Lancaster intelligencer. (Lancaster [Pa.]) 1847-1922, June 22, 1870, Image 1

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    THE LANCASTER PNAJAGENCER.
Punmom] EVERT WEDNESDAY DT
11. 0. SMITH & CO
A. J. STEJ.NNEAN
IL CI. SNIITII
TERMS—Two Dollar; per annum payable
In all oases In advance.
Thy LANCASTER DAILY INTIMLIONNCER 10
published every evening, Sunday excepted, at
85 per cUnIUM in advance.
OFFICE—SoI:IIIIVEST CORNER or CENTRE
°CARE.
j)octrp.
A lady eogespondent sends us the fol
lowing very pretty lines, saying that they
were written by a friend and sent to her.—
It is good poetry.—lies. I NT.
Is it a Min to Love Thee?
Is It a sin to love thee? Then soy soul la deep
ly dyed,
For my ille-blood, as tt gushes, takes its erinl
nun
from love's title;
And I feel Its AMVeS roll tier me and the blush
es mount my brow,
And my pulses ouleken rapidly, in: the love
dreams COlllO and go;
I feel my spirit's weakness; I know my spirit's
poWer ;
I have felt my proud heart struggle In [erupt.:
tlon'w trying hour;
Yet amid the Wu (millet, bending o'er Ilfo's
1111,110lVeli shrine,
Yielding II ny n.. 11 ill. 11.11 - MUNN], I
thine—forever thine.
Is IL it sin I ,lure thee? Nt'llat were existence
Itereft ift all of Ili tteen that lingers still on
Frienilslaii'ii static , . 1111 e gleams of suallgli[,
shed
er the heart ;
Bat the soul cries something more
than tel cal, impart.
Frifzen hearts, Ilke lee-liiiial eyries, that nit
summer ray van 1111.1 L,
Valtily lifilest their power E., vomit., what their
ifearls liliVt• tiever felt;
lilt I f•livy net their glory, the ratan,
Ilia! is wine,
When will] if:11 . 11i,1 seal I tell thee, I am thine
—lerever 1111ne.
I. II tt Sill 1)]..74. lielllit• Vl,ll,l;nmud
lily Bill,
Alla I prt.ss wttrut lwarts nto—tatt I'v r:
,41,t•it lay all.
Whal tlatuglt t-torn fall. .11.-141.• us, and ttur
uat twart.+, la , I- h. !
:‘ly all of earl It I lam 111011.•-Nirill 11101
1,1 r]lr,
rt•l Irl ,1111 t• tatationt tvlttal uur tlarli
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Illy 1”.)111, sti , ll thy wurli
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L.N NI,SI.I:I<,
{tsccllaucoua
The Story of the Second Nate
th. retw.mhor Ncheti IL WaS tlin
ME=
native aillni ridden fitrOttr pretty
tel passenger. It was Itick llalli
day \vim called my attention to it as a
capital joke, tvhilc Nye were yet in the
eiliterranean -a fortnight or so after
vv,t , sailed front Leghorn. \Ve two were
leaning on the quarter-rail, just before
dusk, when :\ I iss came on deck.
" There's the candle," said Dick, "twit
presently you'll see illy moth." lit the
1 . 11111 . 50 of the next live minutes, 3dr.
Jones, our second orate, lounged over
from the opposite side of the deck, and
entered into an animated conversation
with the young lady on the interesting
topics of sharl:s. At least we judged so
by herimestions,which were put in such
it (dear, street voice that the wind, loth
to part with the musical times, indis
creetly within our hear
i - I I e's a sort of death's-head moth,
in loin! of beauty," (•((((tilith(a my
cri(((i ; "Lnl he's neither too ugly 11111
(1111 oltl In sta.:rim uuron furtable singe
log."
I had :1 hal that. I rather
liked the , i ii..1.:111141 Mate, very cer
tain eonvietion that I particularly ad
mired pretty I:try As I disliked
to see the mail make a I'uuluf himself, or
the girl appear ill the discreditable char
acter of a 1•1:41111•ttO, 11111t1I-111111 -
theoyy :ittiloyed ow. I (110 ft) re
11111 k the litii•rty of tut allc di.hclioeiu
it, :111:1 til till st:
had n II lii bet:11111e
Lau 111:1111
There %Vert' rwir of us in the
hor fat 1... r :Lnd myself.
hy,voln.dt::en Leou.rii
to Now York in a -I.lw-sailing, umrlde
laden ,hip, in,toad of returning house
by it q uirk,. fit:46o.am°
rnulo, doe- not pertain to the pre,- , ld
, 11101):Ily lady :\ I iSS
P;IIi- 11,1 t orally \V:In tln Chid " I,lPit'et of
In my friond anal ntysolf. I ler
La her NV:t , el.!, ill, arid enable le play
Nvhist, and ex
tretiny uninn•ro-; hp: fellow ila--olieer.
I , ,,rtunately room pretty
elu.ely, and we saw wry little of hint.
nut his daughter wits the brightest and
most hotvilehiug little wenian that ever
made a long sea voyage not wily endur-
but delightful. She Wati tWenty
live, :Ls she frankly eont,..ssed, and had
spent the three la , t years in travelling
with her invalid fattier. She was ill
tempered, never dull or dispirited, and
though frank and bright in manner,
lieVer trans,glit , seil the titans of maid
enly propriety. She WitA quite aware of
the tact that she was extremely pretty,
and she had all irresistible tendency
toward innocent dirt:abut. Had I been
a youte,ier inaiyir had Dick not possessed
a wife auil a quantity of children at
Ilona?, one or both of us would certainly
have rehearsed the world old drama of
idle love, with ilary Ellis in the leading
female cob., us the critics would say.
As for Mr. Jones, he was the last man
whom any one would have deemed ca
pable of sentiment of any sort. He was
old—for although lie•said he was only
thirty-live, rough weather and a wild,
dissolute life had made hint much older
than his years. His complexion was
nearly the color of the mahogany when
it is thoroughly oiled, though it lacked
the polished surface which is generally
associated with that article in its manu
factured state. His hair was grizzled
and unkempt, and an ugly sear which
stretched across his forehead—the me
morial of a desperate light with a mu
tinous crew—added nothing to his beauty.
Still his eyes were clear and piercing,
and his figure athletic and manly. I
suppose there are women who might
possibly have fallen in love with him.
The Duchess Josiane certainly would.
When one came to scrutinize Jones
spiritual as distinguished from Jones
physical, it was still more difficult to
understand how lie could have had the
alllaZi ng self-conceit to imagine that Miss
Ellis could regard hint with anything
but the barest toleration. He was a bold,
quick, skillful sailor, a man born to
command the refuse of humanity that
man our merchant vessels. He was
hard and cruel to the lazy and ignorant,
and as a swearer, eclipsed anyone whom
Ttx 'gatt?Mtet sintellivitat
VOLUME 71
I ever heard in the devilish intensity of
his innumerable oaths. He was a total
ly illiterate man, and his want of knowl
edge of navigation made it impossible
for him to rise above a subordinate sta
tion in the profession. His conversa
tion had a certain spice of shrewdness
and homely good sense, but was a per
petual defiance of Lindley Murray and
all his works. His code of morality was
summarily comprehended in two rules
—never to be drunk at sea and always to
obey orders. This was certainly a pretty
sort of fellow to take a fancy to a refined
and delicra.te girl. To do him justice, he
was brave and manly in his station ; but
what right had he to look, except from
an infinite distance, at sweet Mary El
lis?
It would have been amusing, had it
not made me indignant to note how the
man watched for her appearance. At
every step that sounded from the com
panion way he would turn, with a look
of expectation in his fare that the dull
est witness could not fail to understand.
WWII she (lid appear, lie would never
be absent from her side, except for a few
moments at a time, while the two were
on deck. lie was perpetually bringing
mattresses for her to rest upon, and
allaWls to scrap around her. I have
known him to keep a sailor ill the miz
zen chains for hours at a time, catching,
floating bits of seaweed and stray jelly
fish for her amusement. NVhat was
more creditable to him, he never abused
the men in her presence. and rarely
swore while she was within hearing.
More than once, at the warning touch
of her hand upon his arm, he dropped
his raised hand and suppressed the half
uttered oath about to be launched lit
some unhappy fellow who hall commit
ted an unusually irritating offense
against the laws of good 'seamanship.
The moth-and-candle business went
on for several weeks. Mary Ellis was,
or affected to be, totally unconscious of
the conquest she had made. Neither
Dick nor myself felt at liberty to re
monstrate with her in behalf of the
peace of mind or the second mate. I
did, however, Wllllll2 are day to warn
Mr. Jones of the attention that his con
duct had attracted. We had grown quite
friendly by this time, and I fancied that
the kindly interest I took ill his welfare
would rather flatter him than otherwise.
lle listened to what I had to say, with
his hands thrust into his pockets, and
his gaze directed miles awayloward the
distant horizon. "And so, Mr. Jones,"
1 concluded, „ von 11111 St See that this
sort of thing won't do. The lady is
quite out of your sphere, and either
don't suspect that you earl. partieularly
for her, or else is amusing Ill•I',C11
your expense."
Ile turned and looked at me silently.
"Mister," s a id he, a Ast, slowly and re
flectively, "like cm igh you mean all
right. (-40 I won't get mad ahem it.—
Ifut you're making the biggest 111111 or
yourself. Talking to me about yet.
spears! Why, I'lll a man, ain't I, and
a white man, too': tillt.'s a Wtallall,
NVllat's yer spear got to do
with any belt(' perlite to the young
woman expect she gets tired of your
infernal jaw sometimes—l know I do,
anyhow, and she don't mind listenin' to
me a hit, fora healthy change. What
I think of her ain't your business, nor
yet nobody else's;
but I ain't gain' to
let any - mansay that she's playin' it on
me. Now you've got your course, and
that's enough. I don't allow no inter
ferin' from passengers, nor nolaaly."—
,sni. he walked away.
After this failure I tried him with no
more advice. Gradually I became con
vinced that Miss Ellis was in reality, a
heartless coquette, who was amusing
herself with a conquest so out of the or
dinary way as to interest her from its
very oddity. The conviction that she
was actually capable of this petty cruel
ty made me necessarily reverse my opin
ion of her; and I ceased to regard her
with the warm admiration with she had
:it first inspired me.
The voyage grew dull and tiresome.
As it drew toward a close I tltt , ' all to
chafe at any lull of the fair wind that
had followed us nearly across the At
lantie and to all paliellta' at the first
breath of an adverse breeze. I have not
yet mentioned our Captain, for the sim
ple reason that he had hardly been seen
by ally OTltt of us since we had left Gib
raltar. Ile was an ill-tempered, ill
mannered fellow, who disappeared in
his cabin as soon as we were clear of the
Straits, and entered upon a quiet course
of retired drunkenness, in which he per
severed throughout the voyage. The
mate navigated the ship, and was in
every way an inteilligentand competent
officer. 1 never dreamed that Wo wore
not proceeding on our course as rapidly
as the ship could be sailed, until I one
day saw the mate chalk eertain figures
on a board and hold them up to the sight
of a passing vessel. 11cr people imme
diately answered by displaying a series
of totally different figures, the sight of
which elicited a hearty oath front the
mate, who said to Mr. Jones: "I knew
our chronometer was wrung, but when
the old num is sober enougll to talk, he
swears a blue streak if 1 say anything
about it."
My newly awakened suspicions that
we were not in the most enviable situ
ation weru unexpectedly verified (Ind
same night. 1 had felt unwell during
the day, and, soon after dark, went to
my state-room, which was in the house
on deck, and lay down in my berth.
Presently I heard voices from the deck,
close to Illy room. Of com'se, I ought
not to have permitted myself to hear—
for listening is not the proper term to
apply to my involuntary share of the
confidence which the sevond mate was
bestowing upon Miss Ellis—but I could
not easily help myself.
'rimy had evidently been talking some
where else, and had sheltered them
selves beneath the lee of the house in
order tocontinue their conversatton un
molested. Mr. Jones was speaking
when I first became aware of their close
proximity to me.
I'm again' to tell you this," he said,
"because you are not like other woolen,
that'll holler and raise Ned the minute
they think there's any danger. You're
brave, if I know what's brave in a gal—
and I oug,ht, to by this time. I want
you not to ,ay a w. , nl ;thaw. 1.111
father, or any body, far it ain't my busi
ne!, to tell passengers anything; but
the faet is, we may go ((shore any time
to-night, and I want you to be ready."
lo ashore to-night!" she cried,joy
fully "011,,that is too good ! Why,
thought we were a hundred miles from
land."
" You don't git ut}• meanie'," he re
" NVliat I timait to say is this:
The mate's ehrommieter is till wrong.
11,. an d I tolvesusitieiontsi it for a creel:
hack, anti, hmlny We got the longitude
from the hark you was a lii kin' at, and
if they NV:LS right, IVO' fc. LLIC
" And \\*hat 411 . that Shnn't Ivt• gvt
(mine all the yuirla•r:'•' she
'Don't you understand ?•' he :tn
swered. "The ohl man—the Captain,
I inean—k gettin' soher,• and he's told
the male not to change his course, or to
take a rag ill' her. First we know we'll
run slap on to I latteras beach, :tint if it
comes on to Idow—and it's a goin' to,
sure—we'll go to pieces so quick that the
old man won't get a chance to get drunk
again."
" Do you mean that we are in dan
ger she asked in a lower tone.
" Yes, I do, hut don't you get frighten
ed. Mebbee we'll go through the night
all right; but if we don't, and any thing
does happen, come straight to me. I'll
be on deck, and I'll lay down my life
for you, Miss Mary, God knows!
She asked him quickly . " Why do
you mind what the Captain says, if he
is not sober? Why don't you and Mr.
Caswell (the mate) do what you think
best
. .
He laughed grimly. " I've been to
sea, miss—man and boy—for twenty
years, and I never went agin' my supe
rior officer's orders. The old man says
to drive her, and that's the end of it.
If lie drives her ashore, it's his own
lookout; and if it wasn't for you, I
wish he would. When he loses a ship
or two, uiebbe his owners will get sober
men to navigate for 'em."
" I am hot afraid, Mr. Jones," an
swered the girl. "If we are wrecked, I
will do just as you tell me. You can't
think how I thank you for telling um
the truth."
Mr. Jones was quiet for a moment,
and I heard her dress rustle, as though
she turned to go.
" Wait a bit, if you please, miss," said
the second mate. " I want to say one
word to you."
After a pause he began : " Miss Mary,
you've no need to tell me what I am ;
as one of them old chaps that's in the
cabin with you did, once, since we've
been out o' port. I know just what I
am better'n you and he could tell me if
you was to try your best and keep it up,
right on end, for a week. I am an ignor
ant brute that ain't fit to touch yer dress—
let alone yer hand. I do my duty when
I am at sea, and I get drunk and play
when I'm ashore—and that's all
there's o' me. But, you see, I never had
no bring' up. I don't even know who
my mother was; and I've been kicked
around Cherry street, when I was a boy,
and knocked round at sea ever since I
was big enough to know the end of a
marlin' spike. I ain't so bad us some of
the sailors thinks I am ; but I'm a hun
dred thousands fadoms below you. All
I want to tell you is jest this. There's
never a man among all the lot you've
knowd that could begin to love you as I
do. For God sake, don't look afraid of
me. I ain't such a fool as to think that
you could ever keer a straw for me, but
I can't help tellin' you how true and
honest I love you. I'd die happy for
you, Miss Mary, even if I knowed you'd
never think of me again. I never meant
to tell you this ; am? I'll never say an
other word about it. But, my God!
when I think of how I love you, and
how there's fifty thousand Atlantic.
Oceans between us, I get wild. I've
thought of it some nights, Miss Mary,
till I couldn't bear it any longer, I've
just jumped forerd, and gone to lickin'
the sailors, to keep from goin' crazy,
and
"Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones, — came the
shall) call of the captain, cutting short
the poor tel confession.
"Ay, ay, sir!" he answered, and went
to meet his sober, hut, by no means sane
commander. " Why haven't you got
the to'gallants'ls set, sir? Didn't I tell
you to give her all she'd carry?"
" The fore-to-gallant-yard's a little
sprung, arid I wasn't sure of its bearin'
the sail," answered Jones. "Set the fore
and mizzen-to-gallanCls and Mr. Jones.
" I'll do the thinking for this ship,
Mr. Jones, if you've no objection," re
urned the captain, don't you start a
sheet until I give you the wool."
Thu top-gallant sails were sheeted
home and the sails hoisted. The wind,
which had been blowing strongly all
day, had freshened as the sun set, and
was now blowing a still' gale from tlw
eastward. The ship staggered and
plunged under tier press of canvas. The
Captain walked the leek with a quick,
nervous step. Ile was intensely irrita
ble, from the efrects of his prolonged
I debauch, and, though quite sober, was
goaded by his unstrung nerves into a
reckless impatience that found relief
only in the exeitement of driving his
ship to the uttermost of her capabilities.
I listened with uneasiness to the howl
ing of the wind through the rigging,
taut debated the question whether to go
to sleep and so forget the danger we
were in, or to go on deck and make my
self uncomfortable by watching for the
danger which I apprehended. lNly de
cision was quickened by :1 sudden enter
from the Captain. " Mr. Jones, set the
main-royal."
" Net the main-royal, sir?" repealed
the ttstonished second mato, in a doubt
ful tone.
"Set the main-royal, sir. Do you
hear'."' roared the Captain. "Loose all
three of them, and set them instantly.
If you don't know how to sail a ship
with a fair wind, I'll show you. ,,
Mr. Jonel hesitated no longer. In a
few moments the royals were spread to
the gale; but before the yank were
trimmed I was on deck.
Miss Ellis hail disappeared, and the
second mate was evidently averse to
conversation. I noticed that a man
lingered near the mizzen—rigging after
the rest of the watch had gone forward.
tio, too, did the captain, who walked
abruptly to the sailor and demanded to
know what lie was waiting for.
"Mr. Jones ordered me to stand by
the halyards, sir," answered the man.
"(to forward!" yelled the Captain.—
''Mr. Jones I want you to understand
that when I'm on deck I can sail this
ship without any interference. Let
me see any more of it and I'll put you
in irons for mutiny; by —2"
Poor Mr. Jones gave no answer. lii
nt
self the most intolerant and cruel of dis
ciplinarians, tie did not resent the rating
of his commander. When that amiable
officer turned away, his subordinate
passed over to the other side of the deck,
and leaned silently against the bul
warks.
An hour passed away. It was a star
less night and to the danger of running
ashore was added the other danger 11.4 a
possible colision with seine passing
vessel. I thought of this and was about
to pick my way forward, to satisfy my
self that the look-out was not asleep,
when the second mate suddenly placed
his hand to his car, and bent forward as
though listening intently. In another
moment a sharp, piercing cry rang from
the forecastle—" Breakers ahead!"
" Let go
. yer royal and to'gallant hal
yards, fore and aft!" roared the second
mate. "Stand by yer topsail halyard.
Man the port braces, some of us; and
stand by to slack the starboard braces.
Call all hands. 'Bout ship!"
But, while the light sails were yet
fluttering in the calls, and before the
yards could be swung, so as to change
the vessel's course, she struck heavily,
bows on—the main and fore topgallant
masts going over the side, and dragging
the mizzen topmast with them. At the
same moment an enormous green sea
boarded us on the quarter, sweeping
away the wretched Captain, several of
the crew, and the first mate, who was
on deck a few seconds after she struck,
Luckily, I was too far forward to re
ceive the full force of the wave, and, :is
soon as the deck was clear of water, Mr.
Janes made his way over to my side and
said, "Geo below and brings the gal feer
ward to the fo'eastle. Steady, now ; and
don't get yourself overboard."
By narrowly watching our opportu
nity, Dick, Miss Ellis, her father and
myself managed to gain the forecastle.
Mr. Jones, bare-headed, and with his
coat off, was busily superintending the
cutting away of the masts and the clear
ing or the wreck, which wets thumping
against the side with dangers violence.
Believed from the weight of the top
hamper, the ship rose somewhat, and
drove further in upon the sand. 'l'lle
seas boarded us less. frequently, but the
ship pounded on the beach with a vio
lence which placed her in inmeent dan
ger of breaking up.
When he hail done what he could for
icier momentary safety, Mr. Jones called
the crew and said : " t*any of you \Valli
tee try the boat, you can do it. 1 sheen'!.
You can't be no more use 11, , re, but it's
the safest place for you. Ilowever, if
you want to take the boat, I won't stand
in your way."
" We'll take the boat, Mr. Jones," re
plied nee of the men. "Sh'll go In pieces
in half an hour, and you'd better come
I with% us."
Not 1," returned the second mate,
laughing. " I don't take no boating ex
cursions in this weather. Wear away
! the boat if you want to, and good luck
to you." And then turning to the pas
sengers, he continued : " If you take.
my advice, you'll stole aboard. She'll
last some time yet, but them fellows in
the boat 'll be swamped in ten
untu
utes."
" We stay with you," said Mary,walk
ing up tee Mr. Jones, and placing her
little hand in his rough, brown paws.
That settled the question for her and the
rest of us.
The men cleared away a leaky boat
that lay bottom upward on the - house
amidships, and, casting off, vanished in
the darkness. Mr. Jones told us to keep
where we were, While he went aft for a
moment.
We watched him carefully working
his way aft to the wheel-house, which
was still standing. Presently he came
in sight again, carrying a life-buoy. We
knew for whom it was intended.
But just as he had passed beyond the
line of danger, he was struck by a
mighty wave that tore him from his
hold, and dashed him against the stump
of the main-mast. Receding, the wave
left him clinging to a bolt, hut unable
to rise. Dick and I dragged him for•
ward, and laid him with his head iu
Mary's lap. The brave fellow never
lost his hold of the life-preserver:
He was insensible for a few moments,
and on coming out of his swoon, said:
"Tell her to keep this on. We must be
near the shore, and if she holds together
till daylight, they may be able to get a
line to us."
"But you are hurt, dear Mr. Jones?"
cried Mary.
"I'm done for, Miss," he answered
shortly. "My leg's broke, and my ribs
is stove in. Why the don'tsome
body hist that lantern where it can be
seen?"
We took the ship's lantern, which
was still aglow, and fastened it to the
yard of the fore-mast, which had been
oroken just at the slings of the yard.
"I hope you fellows knows what to do
if they gits a line aboard?" he asked
doubtfully.
!-We assured him that we did. Then
LANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING JUNE 22. 1870
silence fell upon us, as we sat waiting
for death, or the dawn.
We were huddled together under the
ice of the bulwarks. The old gentleman
said never a word,'but from the frequent
movement of his lips, was doubtless
praying for our safety. Dick, who was
tho coolest of men, filled and lighted his
pipe, confidently expressing his convic
tion that the ship would hold together
until daylight. Mary was silent, strok
ing with geutlehand the weather-beaten
brow of the second mate. Did her ten
derness spring from remorse at having
won his love, or was it possible that ehe
really cared for him? Who shall know
the fathomless mysterit.s of a woman's
heart?
Hours had passed away when Mr.
Jones suddenly opened his eyes, and
asked, "Has any body seen anything
of the boat yet?''
I looked over the side, and, by a sin.
gular coincidence, caught sight of a boat
drifting by us, bottom upward.
The second mate actually laughed.
"1 knowed," said he. " I told 'eat the
boat couldn't live in that sea. And if
you had gone with them fellows, it
would a' been all day with you by this
time."
He relapsed again into silence, and
apparent insensibility. When next he
spoke his mind was evidently wander
ing. " I tell you," he suddenly cried,
in a voice that startled us with its wild
insanity ; " that chronometer's
wrong„ and we'll be ashore before morn
ing. And if that pretty young ereetur's
drowned, I'll drown the old man myself,
so help me Hod."
The night passed slowly on. The
wind gradually lulled, and the sea per
' ceptilily went down. " Daylight will
soon be here," cried Dick, " we shall lie
saved yet."
Mr. J ones raised his head and looked
out into the night. The calm and re,“,
lute look hail returned to his eyes. I
see the dawn, boys," he said: "stick
by the ship. Those:Cs going down, Ana
you're as safe as if you was ashore."
" We won't go ashore without you,
Mr. Jons," said Mary. " I will nurse
you day and night until you are well."
Nursin' won't do me no good, Miss
Mary,'' he answered. You needn't
take me ashore. I'd a great sight rather
be hove overboard as Slll/11 as the breath's
out of me." . .
It's growing light fast." said Dick,
after another pause. Ilut the second
orate never opened his eyes.
" Miss .Mary," he whispered, in a
faint voice.
" zigoing now. Just let let nie hold
your hand, if you don't mind."
She placed her hand in his, and a tear
dropped on the hard, red face of Mr.
Dick' and I did not venture to approach
nearer to the awful presence of Death.
" dyin' but I'm glad of it.
I couldn't have lived without the sight
.f you ; and I sin happier now than
ever was before."
. -
The tears fell again, and the sweet
girl bent over and touched her pure lips
to the forehead of the dying man.
A bright smile softened his stern,
worn face. " May thud Almighty pay
pin for your goodness," he whispered,
huskily. "I don't know whore I'm
again' to, but if ever you conic there,
you'll let me look at you sometimes,
won't you? I'll never bother you, but
I could not bear to have you rut me."
A dull report came floating front the
invisible shore.
"'There's the gull," cried Mr. Jones.
"They see our light ashore, and they'll
have a surf-boat here before long. Ilood
by, Miss Mary. You'll make it all right
for me up aloft, I know. Tell 'em
obeyed orders and done my duty by the
ship. Tell 'eta you kissed me when I
was atlyin'. They won't be hard on me
if they know that. Make somebody take
the luate's log-book ashore. Ile was all
right; but the lubber that wrecked
the ship with a fair wind. Let me look
lat your eyes once more. My God how
I I have loved —"
-And the Second Illate was dead.
Will He Succeed
In nine cases out of tell, no 1111111'S life
will be a success if he does not bear bur
dens in his childhood. If the fondness
or the vanity of father and mother kept
him from contact Ath hard work ; if
another always helped him out at the
end of Ids row ; if, instead of taking his
turn at pitching Mr, he mowed away all
the time—in short, if what was light
always fell to him, and what was heavy
about the same work to sonic one else ;
if lie has been permitted to shirk till
shirking has become a habit—unless a
miracle is wrought, his life will be a
failure, and the blame will not be halt
as much his as that of weak, foolish pa
rents.
On the other hand, if a boy:has been
brought up to do his part ; never allow
ed to shirkany legitimate responsibili
ty, or permitted to dodge work, whether
or nut it made his back ache, or soiled
his hands until bearing heavy burdens
became a matter of pride, the heavy
end of the wood his from choice—pa
rents, as they bid him good-bye, may
dismiss their fears. His life will not he
a business failure. The elements of
success are his, and at some time and in
some way the world will recognize his
capacity.
Take another point. Money is the
object of the world's pursuit. It is a
legitimate object. It gives bread, and
clothing, and homes, and comfort. The
world has not judged wholly unwisely
when it hers made the position a loan
occupies to hinge more or less on his
ability to earn money, and somewhat
upon the amount of his possessions. If
lie is miserably poor, it either argues
:1/111(' defect in his business ability, some
recklessness in his expenditures, or a
lack of fitness to cope with inert in the
great battle for gold.
When a country-bred boy leaves home
it is generally to enter upon some busi
i
tress, the end of which is to acquire
property, and he will succeed just in
proportion as he has been made to earn
and save in his childhood.
If all the money he has had has come
of planting a little patch in the spring,
and selling its produce after weary
months of watchings and toil in the
fall, or from killing woodchucks at six
cents 0 head, or from trapping muskrats
:toil selling their skins for a shilling;
setting snares in the fall for game, and
walking miles to see them in the morn
ing before the old folks were up; husk
inglllll fora neighbor, moonlight even
at two cents a bushel; working
out an occasional day that hard work at
home has made possible—he is good to
make his pile in the world.
On the contrary, if the boy never
earned a dollar; if parents and friends
always kept him in spending money—
pennies to buy candy and lish-hooks,
and satisfy his imagined wants—and he
has grown to manhood in the expectan
cy that the world will generally treat
him with consideration, he will always
lie a make-shift ; and the fault is not so
much his as that of those about hint,
who never made the boy depend upon
himself—did not make him wait six
months to get money to replace a lost
jack-knife.
Every body has to rough it at one
time or another. If the roughing comes
in boyhood, it does good ; if later, when
habits are formed, it is equally tough ;
but not being educational, is generally
useless. And the question as to wheth
er a young noon will succeed in making
money or not depends not upon where
he goes or what he does, but upon his
willingness to do "his part," and upon
his having earned money and so gained
a knowledge of its worth. Not a little
or this valuable experience and knowl
edge the country boy gets on the old
farm, under tutelage of parents shrewd
enough to see the end from the begin
ning, and to make the labor and grief of
children contribute to the success of
subsequent life.
She has no Mother
What a volume of sorrowful truth is
comprised in that single utterance, "no
mother!" We must go down the rough
path of life and become inured to care
and sorrow in their sternest forms before
we can take home to our own experi
ence the dread reality no mother, with
out a struggle and a tear. But when it
is said of a frail young girl, just passing
from childhood toward the life of a
woman, how sad is the story summed
up in that short sentence ! Who shall
now check the wayward fancies? Who
shall now bear with the errors and fail
ings of the motherless daughter? Let
not the cup of sorrow be overflowed by
the harshness of your bearing, or your
sympathizing coolness. Is she heedless
of your doings? Is she forgetful of her
dirty? Is she carelessof her movements?
Remember, oh remember, she has no
I mother.
Fashions for the "Sterner Sex
We copy the following sprightly ar
ticle from the columns of the New York
evening Post. It ;may prove both in
teresting and instructive to some of our
fashionable gentlemen :
Man's costume may be said to have
arrived quite at a point of perfection.
After various insane teudings toward
bagginess and pinchiness, we have fix
ed ourselves upon a solid pedestal of art
and nature, from which the world and
his tailor declared we shall not budge. '
We have pantaloons which define
the limb, but which are comfortably
and sensibly loose.
We have a coat which fits with a neat
grace every curve of the form, and which
has a certain artistic dignity about its
quiet ornamentation.
We have a waistcoat as comfortable
as it is appropriately graceful in shape.
We have boots which are being made
more and more to follow out the natural
lines of the foot, and hats which are at
once a beauty and a protection.
We have no Inure ugly "stocks" and
preposterous abbreviated garments—
short-waisted horrors. Common sense
be praised.
The coat of die season (says a New
York correspondent of the Cincinnati
(hazette, from whose letter we quote
these items) is really a little triumph.—
It has a closer tendency than ever, a
more generous curve of seam and more
simplicity of natural expression. The
frock is emphatically the fashionable
style. Men are beginning to under
stand that a little artistic grace is much
better than a great deal of material.—
Those impudent little sacques, lit for
nothing but smoking and shooting
coats, arc principally observed now
hangji ' n , upon bean-poles of oftice boys
and old clothes venders in the streets.
Augustus, who loved [ltem last year,
now turns up his nose at 'em in con
tempt, and habits his neat, athletic
figure in a close-llting, elegant jaequette
fastened in front by a pretty, pointed
strap of the material. The lapels roll
low, and the whole garment is bound
with delicate silk braid. Perhaps it is
dark blue or mulberry colored broad
cloth, or it is mixed tweed or olive cas
simere. It is quite certain to be of some
dark color. The light greys and drabs
are not so much worn as last year.
For promenade one sees a multiplici
ty of frock coats, of elegant shape, fast
ened by four buttons, and having hand
some rolling collars, simply stitched.
Supporting them arc lavender legs of
graceful cut, and beneath them repose
dainty vests of white marseilles.
Fancy a complete costume of narrow I
striped gray goods, the coat with narrow
collar and small lapels, rounded at the
ends, and lined with silk of the shade of
the darkest stripe. It is very beautiful,
indeed. And another of mulberry broad
cloth,
with silk facings and raised seams,
elaborately stitched. White waistcoats
must always be worn with this color.
Don't wear black dress coats. _Blue, '
with brass buttons, is emphatically the
fashion, and you deserve to be ostracised
if you put on that solemn old black. It I
has usurped the black so completely
that the latter is beginning to be looked
upon as a personal belonging of re-
I spectable waiters and sympathizing un- 1
dertakers. There's a lightness and'
brightness and dash about the blue coat
that is quite bewitching. And then—
there's the button's—so deliciously daz
, zling to the female eye. And that re
-1 minds me—uniforms are no longer per- ,
' missible for full dress.
With the blue dress csiat pearl gray
pantaloons must be worn, and a silvery
silken waistcoat fastened by their sil
very silken buttons. Also, pearl gray
; gloves, and ashirt bosom made up with
one large plait.
I Pantaloons are charming in cut. They,
fit just enough to be graceful, and curl
over the boot as easily and tenderly as
anew-blown daisy curls its little leaves.
1 Side bands arc worn as much as ever for
morning dress. Checks and irrational
mixtures are going out. There are fash
ionable horrid suits of blue, green and
j gray speckles, reminding one of boa
, constrictors mid crocodiles and all that
sort of thing, but this won't be worn
1 long.
Vests are cut very low, and most of
them have the rolling collar. If you
would be a man of fashion, do not pre
some to wear a double-breasted one.—
, Augustus would expire with horror if
1 lie were called upon to do this.
1 Neither would he wear a white beaver
hat for dress. "The black—the Id:tek—
tite black for me!" And in best taste,
too.
One generally sees very tall youths,
with very spindling legs and very big
noses and very little moustaches, wear
ing these white beavers.
The brim of the new hat is a little
broaderand inure rolling than last seasloi,
and the crown is not quite so high.—
The brims of all round bats are also
broader, and the crowns retain their
sweeping curve. _Mourning bands must
on no accou , nt be worn by anybody but
mourners.
. .
Why are women credited with all the
falsities of make-up?
There's a neat little shop in New York
where " wholesale " is written on a neat
earl in its one neat window, and where
Whalebones and scraps of white goods
are always lying about. 'rho genius of
the place is a scrawny, scraggy, wiry,
springy, chattering little Frenchman,
who is always skipping about, despe—
rately and vociferously shouting replies,
inquirres, and instructions. Neat green
boxes, rather long and slender, are piled
in rows upon his . shelves and magically
marked—what?—"gentlemen'scorsets."
In this neat little shop is a large number
of these articles yearly manufactured,
and the little yellow Frenchman is as
enthusiastic over his twists and lacings
and bookings and embroiderings us if
the world depended upon his efforts to
supply the trade. Ile makes handsome
corsets, but not so handsome as those
which are imported.
Another thing Augustus wears—the
cheat! Pasteboard in his shoulders—
his coat's shoulders. Just to make them
very square and manly and terrible, in
deed, calling up remembranees a Vik
ings and awful warriors of Brobdigna
gian proportions. Pasteboard can do
intiCh, but not exactly this.
Boots and shoes arc no longer box-toed
. .
and flourishing wild whirligig, of white
embroidery and inserting. Toe, are
growing round, and the whole
.4: the loot is severely plain and simple.
In fact, in everything but the blue dress
coat man's taste this spring inclines to
the utmost .miet in tint and construc
tion.
Gloves, too, are quiet in color.
and ousels and dark green are the most
fashionable colors. Not :1 particle of
embroidery must be seen 11.1.111 them.
Augustus likes the seamless ,gloves best,
and wears pearl gray and lavender des
perately whenever it is allowable.
Don't wear shirts with blue, lavender
or bu ffstri pus edging the plai Ls. Exceed
ingly had taste, ant trying to the com
plexion. Always the whitest and stiffest
of linen is demanded. Emblematic Of
the beauty, truth and holiness of the
heart beneath, you know.
Very small diamond studs are allowed
fur full dress, while for morning cos
tumes the prettiest ornaments are little
golden shells with sleeve buttons to
match. Tiny pink"eameo beads are al
so worn.
Standing collars are growing still
more unpopular. The Von Beast is '
still worn, but men begin to appreciate
its ugliness. "The Senate" and the
" Florence." both turn-overs, are best
liked.
Flaring cuffs make the hand look taper
and small, but they are so very difficult
to do up nicely that very few wear them.
'rho straight elfin are not quite so large
as they have been.
Neckties are loose, and thin, and airy,
fluttering—made mostly of grenadine
and light silk. They are large, easy
bows, either plaid, striped or plain—
generally plaid. The thick Stanley and
Derby scarfs have disappeared, and pins
of all kinds are worn no more. Those
scarfs were always ugly, obscuring, as
they did, the glossy white bosom, and
necessitating a sash, which, after its
first washing, was always crooked.
After a season of English side whis
kers, the simple and lonely moustache
is again coming into favor. The ends,
however, are never waxed, but are per
mitted to droop persuasively toward the
chin. It is the fashion now to leave the
hair for full dress au naturc/—not to curl
or torture it in the way it was not meant
to grow. A very proper fashion, but la
mented over by the hairdressers.
H. H. Williams of New Cumberland,
was drowned in the Yellow Breeches
Creek at 11 o'clock on Monday night,
while assisting in removing rafts from
the river into the creek, He leaves a
wife and family of children to mourn.
The swollen condition of the:stream has
rendered it impossible to recover the
body.
A Gem of the Sea—Coral and Its Origin. I "One-and-Twenty."
In the last number of Chamber's Jour- i With youth no period is looked for
no/ a writer on Coral says : , ward to with so much impatience, as the
, hour which shall end our minority—
As to fashion or taste for coral,
win ' 1 with manhood, none is looked back to
can trace it to its 'origin ? The Greek
.with so much regret. Freedom appears
name local-lion, ' sea ornament,'
de- to a young man as the brightest star in
notes at once an admiration for it ; but ,
the firmament of his existence, and is
they were woefully at issue about the
;Bever lost sight of until the goal for
nature and origin of the substance. The
which he has been so long traveling, is
ancients used coral as atnulets,
al an I reached. When the mind and the spirit
ornament for bucklers and helmets, as a'
r ;ire young, the season of !nunhood is
charm to protect infants from disease,
reftected with a brightness from the
and (treated in various ways) as a toed- .
. , f , u , tt i re c , o l i v d h r ic e l a t li n t o y t . hing•can dim but its
icine against fever, ophthalmia, and
i
other maladies. During the middle
The busy world is stretched out before
ages coral was very seldom mentioned
! our boyhood like the exhibition of me
by writers, and is supposed to have been
chanical automata—we behold the titer
but little used. Francis the First gave chant accumulating wealth, the scholar
a start to the use of this pretty sübstance
his foot upon the summit
for ornamental purposes, and it has re- ,
of the temple of fame, the warrior twin
mained in favor ever since. It is now
, , ing his brow with the laurel wreath and
made into negligees, beads,
bud ' s ' we yearn to struggle with them for su
boutons, bracelets, brooches, earrings, ;
; premac. In the distance we see noth
tiaras, combs, hair-pins, links, studs,
1 ing but } the most prominent part of the
scarfpins, charms, settings for rings, , . picture, which is success—the anguish
parasols, garnitures, cameos, ..c. The ,
of disappointment and defeat is hidden
irrepressible nigger' is said to be very 1 f rom our view ; we see not the pale
found of coral ornaments and we sltall
' cheek of neglected merit, or the sulli,r
perhaps be not very uncharitable if we [
ings of worth.
suppose that he is occasionally an LI II -
But we gaze not long, for the season
suspecting purchaser of falseor imitat Mu ,
n ,
t youth passes away like a moon's
coral ; such sophistication is known to 1 ,
, oeitin from the still water, or like a dew
be practiced by the use of cinnabar and
' drop from a rose in Jour , or an hour in
other red and pink colored substances. 1 t ., l , l , e a c v i , re a l i e . i , f
. f e ri fi e r t i i d ds o ti r i s t e . l ,
e l s ' o u t: t t lLt i t i a i s i r t
With regard to India, as the Hindoos I
are often buried with their personal or- 1 ~. i • ,
„, tint, great theatre upon w Weil we
'laments on them, and as these orna- •
have so lor '' , gazed with interest—the
melds often include coral, there is here 1
paternal bands, which in binding have
a commercial source of exhaustion,
upheld us, are broken, and we step into
which encourages a commercial inerca , e
: the crowd with no guide but our con
of supply. ;
science to carry us through the intricate
But the really grand growths of the
' windings of the path of human life.
coral are almost distinct from those for- 1
The beauties of the prospective have
orations which are found in the Alegi- I vanished—the merchant's wealth has
terranean, and which supply the omit-',, furrowed hm ts
is cheek, the acquireen of
mental spechnens. These gran
d g r°w ` ds ; the scholar were purchased at the price
are the coral reefs. Mr. Darwin, smile
! of his health ; and the garland of the
years ago, prepared a map iu which a
, 1 eonquerer is fastened upon his brow
were put down all the reefs of coral !
with
a thorn, the rankling of which
which surrounded the numerous islands
shall give him no rest on this side of
in the Pacific. In one almost straight ,
: the grave. Disappoint went damps the
line of ten thousand miles front Pitcairn
, ' _ [ . s lurof .air first setting out, and mis
island to (thins, those reefs stud the vasi. ' fortune follows closely hi our path, to
ocean. The reefs are classified for con
finish the work nod close our career.—
venienee into three groups : 1. The ftfo/
i How often amid the cares and troubles
reef is a circular or curved ridge of coral :
01 manhood do we look back to the
visible at low water, and having a trail- 1
, sunny spot on our memory, se
mory, the ason
quil lake in the centre.
The dianhi " lr I 4if our youth ; and how often does a
varies front one mile tosixty miles in dif
wish to recall it, escape front the bosom
ferent examples; and the shape is usually
' of those who once prayed fervently that
an irregular oval. There is generallyi
' ,it might pass away. Front this feeling
profound depth of ocean at a very shorte
we ,10 not believe that living man W:LS
distance from the atoll. In one CaSt•
ever exempt. It is twined around the
the depth is a thousand feet, at a dis-
I soul ; it is incorporated in our very fla
t:wee of less than a quarter of a mile ; ,
Lure, :not will ever cling to us.
Lot far more noteworthy than this, :
-- ----
there is one atoll at two hundred fret
from which no soundings could be found
with twelve hundred feet of line; :Ind
another, where seven thousand feet
found no bottom at a mile and a quar
ter distance ! The intAirior lake or lagoon
is never profoundly deep. We may,
therefore, picture to ourselves an atoll
as the top of a steep conical submarine
mountain, with a kind of crater at the
summit, I. The barrier reef difiers from
an atoll in having one or more !stands
within it; it forms, in fact, a barrier
:round an island or islands at some con
siderable distance, separated by a mote
of very deep water. Some of them run
along parallel to the shore ; in some the
islands have joined to form a continuous
strip of dry land; while in many hi
stances the island forms a lofty mouo
tain. 3. The shore reef resembles a har
rier reef in having land within or near
it ; •but the dry land is very shallow;
while in most instances there is no is
lands ur inlets, the whole reef being
submerged at high water. In all the
three kinds—atoll barrier and shore—
the reef has been formed by countless
myriads of coral insects, working at the
construction of their hollow dwellings.
Mr. Darwin, by tracing a local connec
tion between volcanoes and reefs, arriv
ed at a conclusion that Wherever an atoll
or a barrier reef has been formed, the
bed of the ocean has subsided ; while at
the spots where shore reefsoccur, the bed
of the sea iseither uprising or stationary.
Islamis and mountains in the Pacific.
have been submerged by the subsidence
of the ocean bed; and where the subsi
dence had taken place to a certain ex
tent, coral insects set to work at their
busy labors; for, whether in the Pacific
or the Mediteranean, the insect always
works in the water, but at no great
depth below the surface. All three
kinds are satisfactorily accounted for on
this view, as being in three stages of de
velopment. The shore reefs are formed
first as a fringe of coral around the coast
of an island ; by further subsidence each
becomes in time a barrier reef; mid each
of the latter develops into an atoll reef,
by the insects constantly building at
the top of it. The Pacific coral is doubt
less as beautiful as that of the Meditera
nean ; but being more remote front in
habited countries, it has not so much
chance of being worked.”
Luther's Snow Song
On a cold, dark night, when the \ri e l
was blowing hard, and the snow Was
falling fast, Conrad a worthy citizen of
a little town in Germany, sat playing
his flute, while Ursula, his wife, was
preparing supper. They heard a sweet
voice singing, outside—
- Foxes to their holes have gone
Every bird into Its nest;
But I wander here alono
And for me there is no rest."
Tear filled the good man's eyes, as lie
said, "What a fine, sweet voice! What
a pity it should be spoiled by being tried
in such weather !"
I think it is the voice of a child. Let
us Open the door and see," said his Wile,
who had lost a little boy not iong before,
and whose heart was opened to take
pity on the little wanderer.
Conrad opened the door, and saw 0
ragged child, who said:
"Charity, good sir, for Christ's sake !"
Conte in, my little one," said he.—
" You shall rest with me for the night."
'The boy said "'l'hank God," and en
tered. The heat of the room made him
faint, but Ursula's kind care soon re
vived him. They gave him some sup
per, and then he told them that he was
the son of a poor miner, and wanted to
be a priest. He wandered about anti
sang and lived on the money people
_wive hill]: 1I is kind friends would not
let him talk 11111U11, but sent him to bed.
Mien he was asleep they looked in upon
him, 10111 were so pleased with his pleas
ant countenance that they determined
to keep him, Jr he was willing. In the
morning they found that he was only
too glad to remain with them.
They sent him to school, and after
ward lie entered a monastery. There
he found a Bible, which he read, and
from which he learned the way of life.
'rim sweet voice of the little singer be
came the strong echo of the TleWS—',Jus
titled by faith, we have peace with God
through our Lord Jesus Christ.' Con
rad and Ursula, when they took that
little street singer into their house, lit
tle thought that they were nourishing
the great ehampion of the Reformation.
The poor child was Martin Luther! tie
not forgetful to entertain strangers.
The following is the whole of the song
which Luther sung on that memorable
night:
Lord of lwaven ! lone and sod,
lilt op my heart to Th
Pilgrim Ina foreign land,
(irachms Father, look on me.
I shall iwither faint ma . dic,
While I walk beneath Thine ey.
I will stay iny faith on Thee.
and will never fear to tread
Where the Saviour Master buds
He will give me deliy bread,
Christ Wiei hungry, Christ was peer
He Will feed Die (rural his store.
Foxes to their holes have gone,
Every bird unto its nest;
But I wander here alone,
And for ire there is no rest.
Yet I neither faint our fear here.
Ifthe Saviour, Christ, is
If I live, he'll be with me;
If I die, to him I go.
Ile'll not leave Ille, I will trust him
And my heart no fear shall know
Sin end sorrow I defy,
For on Jesus I rely.
How to Drive A Young Horse
We find the following floating, and
do not know its paternity, but it is good
advice : " In teaching a young horse to
drive well, do not hurry to see how fast
he will trot. Keep each pace clear and
distinct from the other: that is, in walk
ing make him walk, and do not allow
him to trot. While trotting be equally
careful that he keeps steady at his pace,
and do not allow him to slack into a
walk. The reins, while driving, should
be kept snug; and when pushed to the
top of his speed, keep him well in hand
that he may learn to bear well upon the
bit, so that when going at a high rate
of speed he can be held at his pace; but
do not allow him to pull too hard, for it
is not only unpleasant, but it makes It
often difficult to manage him."
The difficulties in Dickinson College,
at Carlisle, Pa., have been satisfactorily
adjusted. The order of suspension has
been recalled, and the members of the
sophomore and junior classes present
have resumed their college duties.:
'Smiling.'
In a mining camp in California, when
a man tenders you a "smile," or invites
you to take a "blister," it is etiquette to
say, "1 lere's hoping your WWII pan out
gay." In Washoe, when you are re
quested to "put in a blast," or invited to
take your "regular poison," etiquitte
zolmonishes you to touch glasses and
sav "Here's hoping you'll strike it rich
Jiro., lower level." And in Honolulu,
when your friend the whaler asks you
to take a "11,1" with him, it is simply
etiquette to say, „ Hero's eighteen hun
dred barrels' old salt." But "drink
hearty" is universal. This is the ortho
dox reply the world over. I n San Fran
cisco, sometimes, if you °trend a man,
he proposes to take his coat, and in
quires, "Are you on W."' If you are,
you can take your coat off too. In Vir
ginia City, in former times, the insulted
person, if lie were a true 111:111, would
lay his hand gently on his six-shooter,
"Is he heeled But in Honolulu, if
Smith offends Jones, Jones asks (with a
rising inflection on the last word, which,
is excessively aggravatig), "How much
do you weigh?" "Sixteen hundred and
and forty pounds—and you "Two ton
to a dot ; ut a quarter past eleven this
Mrenoon; peel yourself—you're my blub
ber."
The sentimental method of asking a
person to drink, is in the formula, "Sup
pose we shed a tear." The operation,
strange as it may seem, is identical with
" taking a smile." There is a frequent
toast in some places, which seems to
contain considerable truth, viz: " Well,
here's another nail in my cofiln." On
the Mississippi river they take a very
practical view of the ceremony, and say
to their friends, " Won't you urine and
wood up ?'"l'hus Implying th;tt strung
potations supply the fuel of life. in
cholera times a false notion prevailed
that imbibition would prevent one from
taking that disease, and a popular style
of invitation was, " Let's disinfect."
'Phis may iLs well be oMet by a mention
of the Western bar-room salute, "Won't
you hist in some pizen*.""l'he last form,
however, is almost too strictly correct
anti literal in its character, to be appro
priate in this article.
Story of a Sunbeam
I am an old man, know how full the
world is of trouble and suffering, and it
does my heart good to look upon a scene
like this. The sunbeam of which I
speak is a ray from the Sun of Righteous
ness, and it has its home in the heart of
a young and lovely girl. She is the
daughter of a rich man, who built a
church in the city where he lives, solely
for the benefit of the poor and the ob
scure. He is, moreover, a t tnan who
gives away in charity a liberal propor
tion of his income. Now the child of
whom I speak, although surrounded by
all tile blandishments of the world,
early chose that good part which can
never be taken away front the posses
sor, and joined herself to those who
take delight in serving their Divine
Master. She then besought her father
to make her his agent for the distribu
tion if a part of his charitable fund, to
which proposition he heartily assented;
and from that time to the present, that
lovely sunbeam has been shedding its
sacred influence among the dark haunts
of the lowly and the poor. Music., the
society of gay and happy companions
and the manifold pleasures of a pure
and thoughtful life, she dues not scru
ple fully to enjoy, us is her right and
duty ; but 111/1/0 of these things have
power to draw her affections away from
the pour. In and out of their homes,
and along the sail-looking streets,
she follows, like an angel of
merry, the promptings of her lov
ing heart. The deerepid and the sick,
upon their beds of suffering, talk about
her as if she were their child, while the
little children run after her, to enjoy
her kindly words and smiles. Ask
those whose official duties take them
among the poor, what they know about
her, and they will tell you that they
meet her everywhere, and that her pres
ence fills ninny a sorrowing chamber
with gladness. And if, in the fulfilment
of her self-imposed tasks, she finds her
self unable to accomplish all she would
desire, she has a kind of magic power
With which she summons her compan
ions to her aid, anti you May be sure
that she does not let them lag in their
labors, even if they would, for she knows
that they will be made happier by do
ing all the good they can.
But the sunbeam of which I am
speaking was lately clouded by a deep
sorrow, which occurred as follows :
Among her destitute friends was a very
old and a very good man, whose weak
ness and suffering were such that he
was constantly confined to his bed.—
Daily, with her own hands, did she
make a delicate broth to tempt his ap
petite, and if, when ready, she had not
a servant at command, she would don
her cloak and hood and trudge off to
deliver it in person. This had she been
doing during all the winter months,
when one day the silver cord gave way,
and the old man died. This was early
on Sunday morning, and when the
news was brought to the Sunbeam, she
was at her accustomed post in the Sun
day school. It came upon her suddenly,
and the effect was to overwhelm her
with grief; she could hardly have wept
more bitterly if she had been left an
orphan. Some of those who knew the
cause said, half aloud, " It's only a pau
per who is dead, and why should she
make all this fuss ?" A cruel speech,
may hereafter be remember with bitter
ness. The pauper is in his grave, but
the Sunbeam that cheered his withered
heart, even to the very last, is still liv
ing and toiling in the pathway ,of her
choice, and long after the poor and the
rich of all the world, as well as the old
mart who writes these words, shall have
passed away, will she be flourishing In
immortal beauty above the skies.
Knighto of lit, Crispin Hoot and MKS
Chinamen
BOSTON, Juno 15.—Seventy-five China
men arrived in North Adams, Mass., on
Monday to work in the shoe factory of C.
T. Sampson Sc Co. A large crowd assem
bled at the depot to witness their arrival.
They were followed from the depot to
Sampson's factory by the crowd amid omi
nous hisses and hooting from the Crispins.
Two men were arrested for assaulting the
Chinamen with stones. Tho Crispins are
deeply excited.
NUMBER 25
The Cuban question
A Strong Speech from General Banks, of
Massachusetts.
Mr. Banks pruceeeed to address the Ito use
in support of the joint resolution. Ile had
listened yesterday to the message of the
President without having his views on the
subject changed or modified. There never
could lie peace in the country till the rela
tions of Cuba to the Unite,l States were
definitely settled. He knew that the peo
ple of the United States bad been religious
ly faithful to their duties, although they
had the reputation abroad of:being filibus
ters. No State in the world had so clear
and honorable a record in that regard as
the United States had. The present move
ment in tuba originated out of the revolu
tion in Spain. The people of Cuba natur
ally expected to share in the benefits of the
revolution. But General Lersundi; with
despotism in words and manner. checked
the idea and 111/11111aed non the sacrifice of
a few live., would save greater and more
painful hisses. The people of Cuba had
thereupon risen against the government of
Spain and established a government for
themselves. They had adopted a constitu
tion as wise in siiine respects wiser
than that of the United States. They held
three out of the titer States into wlfieh the
island was divided, foul had fought from
October, ISfisf, till 110 W, 11 a persistency,
bravery and fidelity that 1111,1 rarely been
exeeef led.
Ile had heard mention made in the Pres
dent's message yesterday losses by the
Spaniards trout an 1111111.4, and
recognized the source iron, NVIIii•IL that -
pres,itin ClllllO, but it was not an "occa•
siimal bullet', that lost t h e lives of fitly
thousand Spanish soldiers. There had
been 107,11110 wen eniiiiiiyed to suppress the
insurrection. The diet military t'oree in
the field at the present limo 110
to 110 abillit 111,001), or
000 Cubans. The coolliet hod 1,. - omi carried
out with a barbarity never he 110..• equaled,
tvhieh W 11.1.1 rOll.-4011 for Iho
terferonl.ll of the United States ttever,
Mehl-
The propositions sn b w l l t r , l W
They gave offehee bt te, nation. interfered
with the rights or neither party to the con
test, and Were in With OM ',re
cede:Ms established by all the Ent - emu:in
governments in the late rebellion in the
United States. Spain had reesignionl the
rebellion days after the
tiring at Fort SUlllter. Ile pnipose d todo
only that for the island of Cuba --not within
sixty days after the beginning of the Cull
test, but twentv-ono months after it, and
after thousands of lives had 1411 en in the
war. Ile reminded the I louse oldie inse
curity of tin United States eitixens and Mb
eers of Cuba. lie had seen a letter Yester
day slating that a United States Consul
there, Whose name hu could not repeat, was
preparing to leave the island, in the belief
that his life was not sate there. There was
eni indignity and no wrong which might
not bo iiill)oNed 111)011 Awcricauw there.
An Admiral of the United Stales Navy
had been sent there some time ago to in
quire into the circumstances of the murder
eila young man from Pennsylvania, mud
alter the show and farce of a trial, and the
Admiral reported that the man had boen
brutally murdered, and to that report the
President had assented. The Admiral re
ported also tint the British government
had power to protect its subjects, and that
they muttered no violence whatever befit
the anarchy in Cuba. The Stieretary
State wrote tit an American eonsul there
inquiring what there was in British legisla
tion that gave their subjects protection
which American citirous had not, and the
consul until not itilitWer the rlurstiun. Hatt
lie (Mr. Banks) eieuld It'll.
It was because the British government
protected iLs uNVii subjects and never took
the side of the oppressor :mil of the tvrant
against its own people, :Ls the t . nitedtaleS
gOVerlllliellt had nearly done. (Murmurs
or applause iu one or the galleries.) The
British government did not atiSa i ll its peo
ple as liars and onwards. but protected them
whether they wore right or wrung. When
ever the American government tontc the
like ground Americans would lie perfectly
protected, :Ls Englishmen, Frenchmen,
Swedes, Danes, Russians, or Prussians are
lie wanted that protection given to
Americans there, anti the flag of the i'ollll
- unmolested on Lhe seas, especially in
the Gulf of Mexico. Ile referred to the ar
guments ill international law in the Presi
dent's message yesterday, and compared
them with similar arguments communica
ted some tilee ago by the Secretary of the
State. Ile could not but li instinctively,
on hearing the message read, that the per
son Who had prepared them ha' the one
party had dune it also fur the other, and
that the same person might also be in the
pay of the exiled queen of Spain, in the pay
of the Spanish government and in the pay
of the government of the United States.—
That might be an error (in his part and he
hoped to Hod it was, but he was inclined
to believe it.
A member inquired—Will the gentleman
state to whoni he refers?
Mr. Banks—No, sir, not at all.
Mr. Ingersoll-1 would like to he Inform
ed on that point.
Mr. Banks proceeded to refer to that part
of the President's message referring to the
brutalities committed en both sides, all of
which, he said, might have collie from the
Spanish Minister. (Sensation.) It would
become the Spanish Minister better than
the American Minister of State. Ile would
say for the Cubans, who were ill instil.%
with the character of the American people,
that if they had been left to conduct their
contest under the rules of civilized war
fare, not one man would have been butch
ered by them in a cruel and unjustifiable
manner.
lie would not attempt to justify the re
ported murder in wholesale of six hundred
prisoners of war by one of the chiefs of the
insurgents, though they could do nothing
else but retaliate or see the country deim- •
ulated by the Spaniards. He did not blame
the United States fur not interfering.
Congress had taught the President that It
was dangerous for him to entertain an
opinion or do an act that might be called a
policy (laughter on the Democratic side),
and, therefore, if he saw those things done
and said nothing it seas not his fault, but if
member, of Congress would claim absolute
and unlhnited power ill the administration,
and if the government saw these things and
permitted them, and justified them or gloat
ed over them, they ought to be numbered
among the damned forever and ever. The
curse of Dud should rest upon them. ( Ap
plause, suppressed by the speaker). They
were responsible fig these things.
There had nut been a prisoner of war
butchered in Cuba, nut a woman or child
sent to eternity, for which Congress was
not responsible, for it had the power to
cheek such barbarity, and did nut exercise
it. Twelve hundred millions of people
would join the United States in the cry of
condemnation against it. Ilut Congress
dared nut utter a word against such whole
sale butchery of the defeiteeless people of
Cuba, and now they were told that so lung
149 the Spaniard. murdered women and
children, so long as there was no war the
United States had no right whatever to in
terfere with them in any stay. That was
what was called law.
lie did not: blame the President for It.
Nut at all. But a lawyer who for anything
but pay would send to the representatives
iif the people a doctrine like that for them
to ant upon, ought to be forever reproved
and forbidden the presence:if , ' vilised men.
( Applause ill the gal I ery and laughter
among the Democratic members.)
The speaker stated that any manifesta
tion of applau, Wa, positively forbidden
by the rides.
Mr. I it gersoll
ty to-day.
Mr. Banks went on losay that then! Were
Somr , other passages which he notice)! in
the President's message, which had a
familiar ring to his ears, and which lie had
also found in the Spanish Minister's in
structions to the Committee on Foreign
Affairs through the Secretary of State. It
was said that the Cubans haa no towns and
no cities, and therefore hail 110 rights.—
Where did a doctrine or authority like that
:sane from 7 It had been said afuretime,
that " hod made the country and Irian made
the town." The Cubans had country, and
could defend it, and if left to themselves
could govern it in peace, prosperity and
happiness. The informatiou given by the
President, that the Cubans had not 10,000
stand of arms, reminded him of the state
ment of Rdmund Burke, two years after
the Declaration of American Independence,
"That the American grand army did not
number more than 10,000 to 12,00 U men,
who prudently enough declined a general
engagement, and that all army which was
obliged at all times and in all situations to
decline an engagement, might delay iLS !
ruin, but could never defend its country."
But, said Mr. Banks, commenting on the
last sentence, "it did it devilish well
(laughter), and what such an army did for
the Unite d. States, it will do fur Cuba, and
nothing else will du it."
Mr. Banks then referred :to the Presi
dent's allusion to the use of Cuban bonds,
and his intimation that these bonds were
expected to influence Congress. Ile did
not believe that ally such attempts had been
made, but he knew that efforts of another
character had been made. Tho whole
country had been flooded with rumors that
the purity and integrity of the House of
Representatives had been perverted and
destroyed, until at last it came from the
President; that was a matter for Congress
to look into, and see that it did not affect
the judgment or stain the integrity of
members. He did not believe that any
such attempt bad been made, but he did
know that foreign governments hero have
endeavored to sustain their purpose and
and their object by appeals of that
character. A year and a half ago
• the Spanish minister in Washington
said to a reporter of the House—a cor
i respondent of a prominent journal in the
neighborhood of which he (Banks) lived,
and without the approval of which journal
he could not sustain himself at home, and
intending that what he said should go to
the public prints—"thatfaeu.Bankii had no
Let 1,4 have a little liter
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•
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other motive to sustain the Cuban ques
tion except what influenced hint in sup
porting the acq uisition of St. Domingo,
in which ho had large and impliedly
dishonest territorial possession." If the
Amer;ean Minister at Madrid should
as
sail In that manner an officer of the Spanish
government or Cortes, he (Banks) would
say to the Spanish people that that Minis
ter ought to be dismissed out of the coun
try ; and Ile did believe, if at present an
American had the slightest chance of being
protected and supported, the Spanish Miu
tster ought to be asked, after reflecting it
year and a half on this f o al calumny, to
snbstantiate the truth of what he had falsey
declared. Ito I Banks) did not need to say
that in the Cuban question, and in the San
Domingo question, he had Ile personal in
terest whatever, and IVILS animated only by
that feeling which animated and controlled
every man in this country. This man (al
luding to the Spanish Minister) who sought
to destroy the reputation ,if the gvvortt
ment by assailing its officers with a coward
ly and Infamous falsehood, was unworthy
the privileges he enjoyed by the courtesy
and generosity of the American people. 11,.
wont Id ask the President, when he sent Con
gross another message ell the StlWll.
of
perseelli to express his (minim,
en le the IllaehhettitelS anal letteeelellh4
the Spanish NI Mister on this subject.
The norinl of l'harlem 1)1ekV11.4...111%
Body luterre4 lu Weotmho
oter Abbey.
,luno It —At six a. in., to-day,
the remains of Charles Dickens, svero
lsni
voyed from his late rosidoimeat a tail's 11111.
by train to Charing-Cross Station. There
waited at the station a plain hears' aril bout
the 11.131 English trappings, and throo
plain roaches. 111 the tirsl e arh waro
placed the ohildron of the dovoased (11 is.
and Harry harkens, Minn Ilirkrua, 311,1
l'haries Collins; in the IlIW.llltl coach
snore >t ins I logarth, sistordn-lasv, and M rs.
.ktistiii,sister Mn.r 11101:ons; Mr. Chard.,
lairk cis, jr., and John Forster; in the
third coach wore Frank Beard, l'harlos
:\ Ir. (iwory, \Vitt:le Potties and
Edmund Ili,kens.
The entire party were In deep Intl simple
mourning, without bends or searts. There
waste' crowd at Charin 4 Cross Station, and
the procession wa.s driven at lens. to West
minster Abbey, whore the reinains were
received by Leant Stanley and other offi
cials, and placed in the "Poet's Corner," at
the foot of [lambi! and at the head of Sheri
dan, with Macaulay and Cumberland on
either side. The mmui [lowers were strew is!
upon the bier. Dean Stanley read the
burial service, anti the collie wits deposited
in its final resting place, and the ['mineral of
Diekens WAS ended. U pin the eollin-plate
were inscribed the words: "Charles Dick
ens; born February 7, 1512.; tins! June
IS7e."
. .
Thousands of citizens have i•rowilud to
the Abbey during the day to look upon the
spot where the great novelist rests.
The Times, in an article on iron-clads,
fears that Captain Coles may be rush and
push the turret principle too far. It re
quires a sacrifice of desirable qualities ill a
a cruiser, and its too general adoption
might impair the eilleitincy of the navy.
'1 be Queen authorizes a disclaimer of the
unfriendly remarks ascribed to her in the
World's fleangelical Conference, to It,, held
in New York nest autumn.
The local column of the Altoona sell of
Monday contains the tv if following stories
Nathan Denny was killed on Saturday
morning by tho Cincinnati express west,
at Warrior's Ridge. When the body was
discovered. his faithful dog was found by
his side with a broken back, showing that
he had risked his own life in order to save
his master front the jaws of death. And
when the persons who discovered the body
of his master attempted to rsmove it, the
brok em backed dog, nearly dead as he was,
manifested such u degree of ferocity that it
was found impossible to approach him.
Alter repeated efforts to secure the body
had failed it WILY Mund necessary to sh e et
the faithl ul sentinel, and ho breathed eat
his faithful life on the body of his dead
master.
•
A well known citizen of Altoona the other
evening locked up his house and with his
family retired to bed. Some time during
the night he was awakened front sleep by
a dull blow on his face. 110 was somewhat
astonished to lied that it favorite cat hail
sprang directly on his face, I Wing very
drowsy he threw the eat from hint and im
mediately went to sleep again. In a short
tune the cat repeated her singular action
and again he threw her from hint. Vet
again she sprang upon him, Mitt this
being thoroughly awakened and suspecting
something unusual, lie raised himself in Lino
bed and gazed toward the open door of the
room. lie was startled to see a pair of bril-
Haut eyes flashing on hint from the gloom.
Rising and striking a light, he was sur
prised to see a nuuninoth black dng stand
ing on the threshold of the room looking
fixedly at him. Alter a brief examination
of the mysterious canine, our friend walked
deliberately past him, opened the door and
I called him down stairs. The dog °bops],
and walked forth into the night with per
fect docility. The question is, whence canto
the dog, and was he mad The singular
action of the cat, which is a great pet in the
family, manifests a degree of intelligence
truly astonishing. Iler fidelity to her mas
ter rid him of an 11111i1PaSalit visitor, and
ninny have saved his life.
A Preacher Prosecuted for Seduction.
Upon the docket of the supremo Court,
by Counsellor Dougherty WILY vestorday
entered an affidavit, upon which, thin morn
ing was arrested it young man licensed in
a Baptist clergyman. lie studied divinity
in the University at Lewisburg,. Ile Is ap
parently _ft years of age. Ile is wiry, meth
odical, and apparently as closely calculating
and as deeply deliberate as the pasteboard
circles sold in the stores of stationers to
oxpedito the calculation of Interest.
The complainant against him is a young
woman, delicate in physiq tie, but rich in
the wealth of a noble eountenance and a
queenly mien. The town of Lewisburg
trout her home. What her affidavit repro
scan i 5 that the accused beguiled her into
sin. She deposes that in October, ISCS, she
first made tits acquaintance. in February,
1070, the accused graduated front the Uni
versity. He left for Philadelphia. A cor
respondence, states the affidavit, was kept
up between the parties. The entente was
caused by the reception of a letter froMhint
by the young lady. Its contents were to
the effect that he had concluded to withdraw
hie promise of marriage, but that as a pe
cuniary plaster he was ready to Hupp!y
whatever might be ordered.
In the meantime the young lady became
a mother. She in no fur front friendless
that Hon. Dan lei Dougherty has been se
cured LIS tier counsel. 'rho accused was
this morning taken into custody by a Depu
ty, whose name Is /etc. But that the
reporters casually encountered tau 1111.111-
hero of the bar, they would have been
prevented from examining the doekets Up
on Which the circumntancus are recordist.
Hut for the assistance of the professional
gentlemen above named, the incognito of
the accused would have been effectually
treserved.--Pha. Bunctin.
==!
A Young . Lady Driven to SPII , DPStriIe
lion by nk Cruel Step-Mother.
UNIONVILLE, Orange county, N. J., Juno
>5.---Miss Carrie Jones, a pupil at Oak hill
Seminary, about ono mile west of this vil
lage, attempted suicide on Monday night,
by taking a dome of corrosive sublimate.--
A physician was immediately called, and
remained with the young lady through the
night, endeavoring in every way to assuage
her sufferings, but with little avail As she
continues sinking alt the while, and is now
almost beyond the pale of suffering, no
hope,' whatever being entertained of her
recovery.
A letter was found on the stand near her
bed, addressed to her father, stating the
muse of the terrible act. llor father resides
at Newark, N. J. To her step-mother she
was an object of dislike. For the past five
years she has been attending school at
Mount Retirement Seminary, near Decker
town, N. J., and her father, to carry out the
cruco designs of the step-mother, paid her
board, etc., and kept her from home. Re
cently she had attended the school at Oak
hill, and a few days ago her father notified
her that he would no longer ho rosponsi hie
for her board, and that she must hereafter
rely on her own resources for support, as
she could not return home. This intelli
gence, as well it might, very much de
pressed her spirits, and to end what ap
peared to her a life of cruelty she has
poisoned herself. Miss Jones is described
as being a young lady of about 20 years,
amiable and intelligent, and in every way
worthy of better treatment by her paronto.
Negroes In the Common Schools.
Mr. Conway, the State Superintendent of
Public Schools in Louisiana, is said to ad
hero firmly to the position ho has taken in
favor of giving negroes the same rights as
whites in respect to having their children
educated in those institutions. His full
adhesion to this view was doubted by a
correspondent of the New Orleans Timr.r,
and it is said that a statement reaffirming
his position failed to obtain insertion in that
paper. It is reported that the teachers in
the schools, although the pressure of local
prejudice is against such views, will otter
no objection to performing their duties in
•' mixed schools" organized under the new
law, and about 1,0110 now applicants are
ready In C 11613 of need to fill their places.
It is expected that a vote on the question of
a school-tax will throw light upon the
views of the majority of electors concerning
this subject, which now greatly agitates
the people of Louisiana.—N. Y. Tribune.
A Pittsburgh painter, at work on the
third story of a building, caught at and
broke several rounds out of the ladder ill
his fall, but at length he struck a strong
one, which shot him through a second
story window, sprawling on the floor
unhurt.