Lancaster intelligencer. (Lancaster [Pa.]) 1847-1922, February 22, 1871, Image 1

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    THE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER,
PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY BY
H. O. SMITH & CO
A. J. BTINMAIT
H. G. SMITH
TERMS—Two Dollars per annum payable
In all cases In advance.
Tire LANCASTER DAILY INTELLIGENCER ifl
published every evening, Sunday excepted, at
$3 per annum in advance.
OFF/CE—BOOTIIWEST CORNER OF CENTER
s4UAR.H.
Vortrp.
'ALICE CAnY spent her last weary summer
lu New England, and there she wrote the fol
lowing beautiful lines. While they serve to
remind us of how much genius must henceforth
he:hidden In the-grave, they disclose with a
plaintiveness and pathos most touching, that
In Alice Cary's nature there was such a
wealth of beautiful thought that her anguish
was often forgotten, even when den . ln was
gat tiering Its deeper shadows around:
=ll
II Sommer toy beautiful, beautiful Hummer'
I look In the thee, /111,1 I long no to live;
ISUI, Mani thou room for all Idle new comer;
Lli all thlngh to take:old nothing to give?
With all things to fake of the dear loving kind-
Tlrv Itto of iliy moo:Moe : 11w drw of lhynlr• (
Mel with nothing to give but the tlettfuess lIIILL
Illloanens
Begot i:t the dVIIi li. or on utter ,levla'.lr•'
A , if the gay harvester meant lint 11/SVII,II her.
'1'111,1,1111!It SliS I:1 her low 1 4 .1111 /Ind
;
A lesson of trust to the tender rc rd glean,
That 1 / 1 2:11, In tier hrott, arms thegoltlClthi•
The Itltte•tartl that trllls her tots lay in the
hushes
Provoke,' front the rola ti :1 suss ler glee:
The rose hay's thl• stilt for Iris lose With her
Mush. s,
And all thing , tile it 1110- /CI
hot toe!
kt even, the lict-Int , t,t Inn ,t 111,.. I;Il ill
Th.' NVI:11, III.• 111,141 Uhl] .11
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And In i t
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.I.lltlitri,lll , ll the ot gh.,hats
11" I lei, ,LL,LLL . IL no., of I lir 11 , .l riShOil
MY II EMOIN TEI E STORY
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1-Iclirtiantott
The Story of a Valentint
now nit..
\Viten my friend, ( 'apt. Terrible,
S. N., dines at my plain table, I am a.l
- a little abashed. 1 Ittiiist that lie
has Leon 11i11 . 11,44/1111211 always to is varie
ty of wines :111.l to a vigareth•
alter each course, and a cookery that
would kill an undeveloped Anierivan.
So, when the Captain turns the castor
round three limes liefore' selecting Ills
eontlintent, and \then his eyes seem to
be seeking for \Vorcest irshire sauce:mil
liurgintily stilly, I reel the poverty of
the best feast I Call furnish him. lam
afraid veteran, :Slagazine readers still
feel thus about the odd little story I
have to tell. For I have observed of
late that even the short stories are high
ly seasoned; i ftanil I cannot bear to dis
appoint readers. So, let me just. hon
estly strife over the gateway to this
story a warnitii.!. I have 1.10 Cayenne
pepper. No \Vorcestershire sauce. No
cognac. No rill.lll'elleS. No murders.
No suicides. No broken hearts. No
lovers' quarrels. No angry father. No
pistols :Ind coffee. No arsente. No
laudanum. .loured detectives. No
trial for murder. No "liiiiirtless co
quette." No " villain with
a curling mustache." if, after this
startling, you have the courage to go im
I ant not responsible.
Robert said I might print it if I would
disguise the names. IL 011 t quite
ineulentally. \Ve sten: discussing the
WC/11111.11 question. I ant a "woman's
righter." Hulett - the Iles'. I tubers
Lee, I it the " First
Church," :mil, indeed, the only church
I in Allentille--is not, though I shifter
myself I have inipreSSillll uu
111111. lilt the i1i. , 1,1-,11111 in
Ifuliert's orcn house, ad, wishing to
give a pleasant turn at the end, I sup
pose, lie told sue how, a year and a half
before, he had "used tip" our woman's
rights man, who was no other than old
Dr. flood, the physician That has had
charge or the physical health of I ltiliert
and myself from the beginning. ['dike
most I Ile doetiir has
alstays been a and even the
wealth that has cause in upon him of
late years has left tit, q uite us Hnieh of
Itailii•al, at least. in theory, as ever be
fore. Indeed the old doctor is not vety
inconsistent in pracitice, foi he lias edu
cated his only dam:Adel*, Cornelia, lu his
:11111 1 believe she took
her L. 1). with honors, though she has
lately spoiled her nrospticts by marry
ing. lint socially lie has bevoine a little
aristocratic, seeking an exclusive itsso
chilion with ' s his stealthy neighbors.—
Anil this does not very well in one
win), when he was temir, was practically
bitter on ":t purse-iiroud aristocracy," I
suppose Hubert felt this. Certainly 1
did, and therefore I enjoyed the eon
versation that he repeated to me all the
more.
It seems tint my friend I filbert hail
been away at the seminary for three
years, nail that having at last conquered
in his great battle against poverty, and
having gained an education in spite of
difficulties, and having supplied a city
church accepta b ly for some months dur
ing the absence of the pastor in Europ,
he came hack to our native village to
rest on his,ltlllrels a few weeks, and de
cide which of three rather impecunious
calls he would accept. When just about
to leave he took it into his head for some
reason to "drop in" on old Dr. Hood.
It wan nine o'clock in the morning,
and the doctor's partner was making
morning calls while the old gentleman
oat in his office to attend to any that
might seek his services. This particular
morning happened to be an unfortunate
one, for there were no ague-shaken pa
tients to he seen, and there was not even
a case of minor surgery to relieve the
tediousness of the morning office-hour.
Perhaps it was for this reason, perhaps
it was for the sake of old acquaintance,
that he gave Hubert a most cordial re
ception, and launched at once into a sea
of vivacious talk. Ceruelia, who was in
the office, excused herself on the ground
that she was cramming for her final ex
amination, and seated herself at the win
dow with her book.
" I urn afraid I take your time, doc
tor," said Hubert.
" O no, I am giving up practice to my
VOLUME 72
partner, Dr. Beck, and shall give It all drawer for stationery. She drew out a
to him in a year or two." little pine boat that Henry had whittled
"To himand Miss Cornelia?" queried for her many years before. He had
Hubert, laughing. For it was current- named it ' Hope,' but the combined wis
ly reported that the young doctor and dom of the little boy and girl could not
Cornelia were to form a partnership in succeed in spelling the name correctly.
other than professional affairs. And here was the little old boat that he
'Either because he wished to attract had given, saying often afterward that
her attention, or for some other reason, it was the boat they two weregoing to
Hubert soon managed to turn the con- sail in some day. The mis-spelt name
versation to the subject of woman's I had been the subject of many a laugh
rights, and the old doctor and the young between them. sow, but I musn't be
parson were soon hurling at one another I sentimental.
all the staple, and now somewhat stale, "It did not take Jennie long to draw
arguments about woman's fitness and an exact likeness of the little craft. And !
unfitness for many things. At last, per- that there might be no mistake about it,
Imps, because lie was a little cornered, she spelled the name as it was on the
Herbert said : side of the boat: "Heat'."
" Now, doctor, there was a queer thing "'There was not another word in the
happened to a student in my class in the I valentine. Sealing it up, she hurried I
seminary. I don't suppose, doctor, that out with it, and dropped it in the post
you are much interested in a love story, ofliee. No merchant, sending all his
but I would just like to tell you this one, I lortune to sea in one frail bark, ever
because I think you dare not apply watched the departure and trembled for
your principles to it in every part. Theo- I the result of venture as she did. Spain
ries often fail when practically applied, did not pray half so fervently when the
you know." invincible Armada sailed. It was an
"Go on, Hu, go on; I'd like to hear uttered prayer—an unutterable prayer.
the story. And as for my principles For heart and hope were the lading of
they'll bear applying anywhere !" and the little picture-boat hat sailed tout
the old doctor rubbed his hands together that day, with no other wind but her
confidently. wishes in its sails.
"'Phis friend of mine,llenry (filbert, - " She sat down at her window until
said liu, " was, like myself, pour. A she saw Henry (filbert pass the next
long time ago, when lie was a boy, the street corner on his morning walk tothe
~ii of a poor widow, the lot on which post-ollice. Three minutes after he went
he lived joined at the back the lot on home, evidently in a great state of ex
which lived a Mr. Morton, :it that time citement, with her valentine open in
a thriving merchant, now the principal his hand. After a while he went back
eapitalist in that part of the country. again towards the post-office, and re-;
As there was a bark gate between the turned. Ile had taken a reply
lots, my friend was the constant play- "Jennivagain sough. theoffice. There
mate from earliest childhood of Jennie we: , p eo pl e a ll aroun d w ith those
laid
\lurton. He built her play-houses out of , eons things that they (•alled imnic val
old boards, he moulded clay bricks for (mtines, open in their hands. And they
her use, and carved tiny t o y s out of : actually seemed to think them funny'
pine blocks for her aniusemen t. A, he She had it reply. It did not take lung
grew larger, and as.lennie's father grew to find her rllOlll alld 01:011 it. There
roller, :Ind iiitme to live in grater style, was another picture of a boat, but the
scary grew more shy. But
. by all the name on its side read Despair.' Aunt
unspoken knignage of the eyes the two the,:e words were added: ' Your boat is
I never failed to make their unchanging ideasantest, but, understanding that
regatil Is 10,1'11 eaell 011101". there was no vacant place upon it, I have
"II( any went to college early. At I been compelled to take passage on this.'
vacation-Linn. the two met. But the slowly the meaning forced itself upon
growing difference iu their social posh- her. Henry had tears that she whom
don could not but b e f e lt. Jennie's he thought engag,ed wascoquetting with
friends were of a different race from his him. I think, Doctor, that you will
tier parents never thought of in- hardly justify her in proceeding further
viting him to their entertainments. with the correspondence.
And if they had a rusty coat and a luck " Why not ? Hasn't a woman as
I of money to spend on kid gloves would ' much right to make herself understood
have effectually kept him away. 3 - le in such a matter 1.0: it man? And when
was proud. This apparent neglect stung ! the social advantages are on her side the
him. It is true that Jennie Morton was burden of making, the advances often
all the more kind. But his quick and Mils upon tier. Many women do it M-
I foolish pride made him fancy that he directly and are not censured."
detected pity ill 1101' And yet " Well, you know, I'm conservative,
all this only made him determined to doctor, but I'm glad you're consistent.
place himself in a position in which he She did send another valentine. lam
could ask her hand as her equal. But afraid she strained this figure of speech
you do not understand, doctor, :is I do,
, 1 about the boat. But when everything
I how irresistible is this conviction (.1 in the world depends on one metaphor,
duty in regard to the ministry. ;it will nut do to be fastidious. Jennie
that pressure my friend settled it that drew again the little boat with misspelt
he must preach. And now then. teas n a m e , A n d thi s li on , she a dd e d live
before hint 1 good ten years ol' poverty words: "I'lle master's place is vacant.'
lat least. What should he do about it " And quite late in the afternoon the
In his extremity lie leek advice of a reply was left at the fluor—'l am an ap
favorite theological professor. The pro- pheant for the vaeant place, if you will
lessor advised .him not to seek the hand I take that of master's mate."
of a rich girl.. She would not he suited "toed," (Tied the doctor; "I always
: I
liberty
to the trials of a minister's lire. But
auvocated giving WOlllOll ovaryy
finding; that Ifenry was firm in his •
• in these matters."
opinion, that this sound general princi
" But I will stump VIM yOl, 1 . 10010 r,"
I.le did not in the least apply to this said Hubert. e'vening (Mogi. was
particular case, the professor proceeded I to lecture in the village, and my : friend
, to touch the tenderest chord in the went, not to hear Gough, but to aee Miss
:young tutu's limit. He told him it Jennie Morton at adistanew SOIIIOIIOW
would be ungenerous.and in some sense in the stupefaetion of revived hope he
dish"nerable, Tor him I n hike a woman I hail nut thought orgoing to the house
delicately brought up into the poverty Ito see her yet_ lie had pestiaawd
and trial incident to it minister's life. his t •
epartur, and had thrown away
IC you understood, sir, how morbid his. I his scruples? Knowing how much
of 110110 r .01.1 would W 011(1( . 1 I
OrIaiSILII/11 he would have to con
at the impression this suggestion made scud with, he th,,tight, if he thought
upon him. 'l'u give up the ministry lat all, that he must proceed with eau
' was to his mind to be 11 traitor to duty I thin. lint some time alter the lecture
and to God. To win her, it he mil" , I began lie discovered the Morton family
was to treat ungenerously her whose wiLliout Jeanie! ;
Slowly it all
dawned
happiness was dearer to him a thous' upon him. She \kw, at home waiting
times than his own,„ I for him w
. He as near the front of the
” I hope he did not gig'her up .aid 011111'011 ill which the lecture was held,
the doctor. I and every inch of aisle was:full of pea.-
" Yes: he gave her up, in a ' l "Mde pie. To (.et out its not easy. But as
spirit of inedia.val sell-sacrifice. Look- I he thought of Jennie waiting it became
lug toward the ministry, he surrendered a matter of life and death. Ifthe house
his love as some of the old monks sae
mu, 00011 011 fife Ile would not have
rifled love, ambition, and till other I been more intent on making his exit.
things to conscience. Looking a t her I Pte reached the door, he passed the hap
h"Pl'h,less, sacrificed his hopes in .t pi 2st evening of his lire, only to awake
more ( hunt knightly devotion to her wel- to sorrow, fill' JeIIIIICS father is ' dead
Gar. The knights sometimes gave thei r set' apt.ll t I t "
I . It lila I.
lives. 110 gave•more. "lie has no right to interfere, - said the
"For three years he did not trust hint- doetor, vehemently. "You see I stand
self to return to his home. But having by my principles "
graduated and settled himself for nine "But if I tell the slury out lam afraid
months over a church, there was no you would not," said I uhert.
: reason why he shouldn't go to see his "Why, isn't it done
mother again. And once in the village, "I beg your pardon, doctor, for having
and the sight of the old school house : used a little craft. I had much at stake.
and the old church revived a thousand I have disguised this story in its details.
memories that he had been endeavoring' Putt it is true, I am the hero ---"
to banish. The garden walks, and es- I The doctor looked quickly towards
pecially the apple-trees, that are the his daughter. Iler head was bent low
I most unchangeable of land-marks, re.- over her book. Her long hair hung
vived theold passion with undiminished about it like a cutlnin, shutting out all
I power. He paced his room at night. I view or the face. The doctor walked to
He looked out at the new house of Ids ' the other window and looke,l out. Hu
rirli
neighbor. lie chafed under the her( set like a mummy. Meter. minute I
! strand of his vow not to think again of 1), hood spoke
.lenitie r‘lorton. It was the old story of “Cornelia
the monk who thinks the world std.- she lilted a fa ce that teas :Warne, -
duel, lint who finds it all at one' about "f'etu's glistened in her 'yes, and 1 doubt
to assume muistery of Idol. I do not not there was a prayer in her heart.
I know how the struggle might have end- " You area brave girl. I had other
cd, but it WaS all at nice' Skipped 11 . 0111 plans. You have a right In choose for
without. yourself. God bless you both. But it's
"'There reached him a rumor that , a great pity lit is not a lawyer. Ile
Jennie %x as already the betrothed wife I pleads well." So Saying he put on his
of a Col. Pearson, who MIS her father's hat and walked out.
partner in business. And indeed Col. I 'Phis is the conversation that Hubert
Pearson went in and out at Mr. Mor- I repeated to me that (lay sitting in his
ton's gale every evening, and the father own little parsonage in Allenville. A
was known to favor his suit. minute after his wile came in. She had
"Jennie Was 'not engaged to him, been prescribing for the minor ailments
however. Three times she had refused of some poor neighbors. She took tne
him. The fourth time in deference to baby from her crib, and bent over her
her father's wishes, she had consented till that sante long hair curtained mother
to' think about it' Mr a week. In truth and child from sight.
Henry had been home ten days and " I think," said Hubert, " that you
had not called upon her, :111(1 all the I folks who write love stories make a
hope Elie had cherished in that dire,- I great mistake in stopping at marriage.
Lion, and all the weary waiting seemed ! The honeymoon never trimly begins un
in vain. When the colonel's week was 1 11, tit conjugal affeetion is enriched by this
nearly out she heard that Henry was to holy partnership of loving hearts in the
leave in two days. in a sort of' despera- I life of ;t child. The climax of a love
thin, she determined to accept Colonel story is not the wedding ; it is the baby.'
Pearson without waiting for the time " What do you call her?" I asked ?
appointed for her answer. But that I " HoPc," said the mother.
gentleman spoiled it all by his own I " Hope Valentine,” added the father
, over-confidence. with a significant smile.
For when he called, atm:Jennie had "And Pm spell the Rape with :mu
determined on this course, he found her I '''," 1 believe," I said.
so full of kindness that he hardly knew " You naughty said Mrs. ('or
how to behave with moderation. And ueltui, "You've bean Von think
as he fell to flattering her, and flattering that love story is interesting to others,
himself at the same time, that he knew I because You oujoY it so much
all the ins and outs or a girl's heart, he
complimented her on the many oth'e'rs
she had received.
'"And I tell you what,' he proceeded,
'there are plenty of others that would
increase them. There's that young par
son, Gilbert, 1 think they call him, that
is visiting his mother in the unpainted
and threadbare-looking little house that
stand:: hcloind this one. I've actually
seen that fellow, in his rusty, musty
elnit step and 1001: lifter you on the
street; and every night, when 1 go
home, he is sitting at the window that
looks over this way. The poor fool is in
love with you. Only think of it! And
I chuckle to myself when I see him,
and say, "Don't you wish you could
reach so high! I declare, it's funny."
"Lt that one speech, (Jot. Pearson
dashed his chances to pieces. lie could
not account l'or the sudden return of
winter in Jennie Morton's
Anil all this sunshine was powerless to
dispel it, or to bring back the least ap
proach of spring.
" Poor Jennie! You Call imago me,
doctor, how she paced the floor all that
night. She began to understand some
thing of the courage of lien ry G bert's
heart, and something of the manliness
of his motives All night long she
watched the light t burning in the room in
the widow's house; and all night long
she debated the matter until her head
ached. She could reach but one conclu
sion. Henry was to leave the (lay after
to-morrow. If any communication
should ever be opened between them,
she must begin it. It was as if she had
seen him drifting away from her for
ever, and must throw him a rope. I
think even such a woman's-right man
as yourself would hardly justify her,
however, in- taking any step of the
kind."
"I certainly should," said the doctor.
"But she could not Lind a way—she
had no rope to throw. Again the Colo
nel, meaning to do anything also but
that, opened the way. At the break
fast table the next morning she received
from him a magnificent valentine. All
at once she saw her method. It was St.
Valentine's day. The rope was in her
hand. Excusing herself from break
fast she hastened to her room.
" To send a valentine to the faithful
lover was the uppermost thought. But
how? She dare not write her name,
for, after mil l she might be mistaken on
counting on his love, or she might offend
hie prejudices or hie pride by so direct
an approach. She went tumbling in a
A Dislike of Twins
A InAik, of twins is widely
In the island of Bali, near Java,
the natives have the singular idea.when
a woman is brought to bed or twins,
tioa it is unlucky,oinen ; she,with her
husband and children, is obliged to go
and live on the seashore, or among
the tombs, for the space of a month to
purify themselves, after which they
may return to the village upon a suita
ble sacrifice being made. 'rhos an evi
dence of fertility is considered by them
unfortunate, and the poor woman and
her new born babes are exposed to all
the inclemency of the weather out of
doors, just at the time when they
need the most care. This idea is, how
ever, far front being peculiar to that
island. Among the lihasis of Hindoos
tan, "in the case or twins being born
one used frequently to be killed; it is
considered Unlucky, and also degrad
ing to have twins, as they consid
er that it assimilates them with
the lower animals.'' Among the Aidos
of Japan, when twins are born, one
is always destroyed. At Arebo, in
Guinea, Smith and Bosnian tell us that
when twins are born, both they and the
mother are killed. "In Niguru, one of
the sister provinces to Ouyanyembe,
twins are ordered to be killed and
thrown into the water the moment they
are born, lest drouths and famines or
floods should oppress the land. Should
any one attempt to conceal twins, the
whole family will be murdered." The
American Indians also, on the birth of
twins, kill one; perhaps merely under
the idea that one strong child is better
than two weak ones.
Wanting Friends
"I wish that I had some good friends to
help me on in life." "Good friends!
Why, you have ten," replied the com
plainer's master. "I'm sure I haven't
half so many, and those I have are too
poor to help me." "Count your fingers,
my boy." Dennis looked at his large,
strong hands. "Count thumbs and all."
"I have ; there are ten," said the lad.
"Then never say you have not got ten
good friends able to help you on in life.
Try what those friends can do before
you begin grumbling and fretting be
cause you do not get any help from
others,"
LANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING FEBRUARY 22, 1871
Obituary
IMMZEZI
Died in New York City, on Sunday
morning, February 12, after a long and
painful illness, Alice Cary, aged 50
years. This announcement will awaken
heartfelt regr , t, in many an American
household and in the breasts of thou
sands who have never looked into her
face, but who cherish the productions of
her pen. To those who knew and loved
her—and their number is very large—
her death will be an irreparable loss.
At the late hour at which the news of
this sad event has reached this office,
we cannotdo better than copy the fol
lowing sketch of her life, prepared by
the editor of this journal and published
in the work entitled " Eminent Wo
men of America," issued by the Hart
ford Publishing Company in 1668:
1 ears ago—a, lull score, at least—the
readers of some religious, and those of
many rural newspapers first noted the
fitful appear!nce, in the poet's corner
of their respective gazettes, of verses
by Alice Cary. Two or three years later,
other such—like, and yet different—also
irradiated, from time to time, the afore
said corner, purporting to be from the
pen of Phebe Cary. Inquiry at length
elicited the fact that the writers were
young sisters, the daughters of a plain, I
substantial farmer, who lived on and
cultivated his own goodly but not su
perabundant acres, a few miles out of
Cincinnati, Ohio. He was a Universal-
ist in faith, and they grew up the same
—writing oftener for the periodicals of
theirown denomination,though their ef
fusions obtained wide currency through '
others, into[which they were copied.
do not know, but presume, that Alice
had written extensively, and Phebe oc
casionally, for ten years, before either
had asked or been proffered any other
consideration therefor than the privi
lege of being read and heard. •
The family of Carys claim kindred •
with Sir Robert, Cary, a stout English
knight, who, in the reign of Henry V.,
vanquished, after a long and bloody
struggle, a haughty chevalier of Arm
pit', who challenged any Englishman
of gentle blood to a passage-at-arms,
which tookk place in Smithfield, Lon
don, and is chronicled in " Burke's
heraldry." Henry authorized the vic
tor to bear the arms of his vanquished
antagonist, and the crest is still worn'
by certain branches of the family. The
genealogy is at best unverified, nor
does it matter. From Ifufler Cary—a
French Huguenot, compelled to flee his
country, upon the revocation by Louis
XIV, of the great Henry's Edict of Nan- ;
tes, and who, with his wife and son set
tled in England, where his son, like
wise named Walter, was educated at
Cambridge—the descent of the ('ary
boys is unquestioned. The youngerWal
terem ignited to America very soon after
the landing of the Mayflower Pilgrims,
settled at Bridgewater, Mass., only 1G
miles from Plymouth Rock, where he
openeditgrammarschoolclaimedtohave
been the earliest in America. Walter
was duly blessed With seven sons, where
of, John settled in Windham, Conn., and
of his live sons the youngest, Samuel,
was great-grandiather to the Alice and
Phebe Cary of our day. Samuel, edu
cated at Yale, becoming a physician,
settled and practised at Lyme, where
was born in 17(1:1 his son Christopher,
who at ISyears of age entered the amok,
of the Revolution. Peace was soon
achieved, when, in default of cash, the
young soldier received a land grant or
warrant, and located these with a home
stead in Hamilton county, Ohio, where
on was born his son Hobert, who in due
time married the wile who bore him a
son, who died young, as did one
ler. TWo More daughters have since
passed awsy, and three remain, of whom
the two who have not married are
the sutijects of this sketch. Their sur
viving sister, Mrs. Carrahan, is a
widow, and lives in Cincinnati. Two
brothers, sterling, thrifty farmers,
live near the spot where they first
saw the light. Alice Cary was born
and was early called to mourn
the loss of her mother, of whom she has
written: "My mother Was of English
descent—a woman of superior intellect,
and of a good, well ordered life. In my
memorY, she stands apart from all
others—wiser, purer, doing More, and
living better than any other woman."
Phebe was born in 152.5 ; and there were
two younger sisters, of whom one died ,
ill youth, greatly beloved and lamented. !
A few weeks before her departure, and
while she was still in fair health, she
appeared for some minutes to be plainly '
visible in broad daylight to the whole
family, across a little ravine from their
residence, standing on the stoop of a
new house they were then building,
though she was actually asleep at that
moment iu a bed-chamber of their old
house, and utterly unconscious of this
"counterfeit presentment" at some dis
tance from her bodily presence. This
appearance naturally connected itself
with her death, when that occurred
soon afterward; and thenceforth the
family have lent a ready ear to narra
tions of spiritual ,as destinies wished
from material! presence,which to many,
if not nmst Perseus, are simply iner di-
The youngest of the family, named
Elmina, was a woman of signal heart,
of mind and person, whose poetic as
well as general capacities were of great
promise but she married, while yet
young, Mr. Swift, a Cincinnati mer
chant, and thenceforward, absorbed ill
other cares, gave little attention to lit
erature. She was early marked for its
victim by consumption—the scourge of
this life, with so many other families—
and yielded up - :her life while
still in the bloom of early wi -
manhood, three or four years since. I
believe her marriage, and the conse
quent loss of her society, had a share in
determining the elder sisters to re
move to New York, which they did in
1 5.50.
Alice lied begun to write verses at Is.
Pheoe, at 17 years of age. Their father
married a second time, and thence lived
apart from, though near, the cottage
wherein I first greeted the sisters in
IS-la and when the number was reduc
ed to lon by the secession of Elm ilia.
Alice and meditated and finally
resolved on a removal to the great em
porium.
Let none rashly conclude to follow
their example who have not their se
curities against adverse fortune. They
were in the flush of youth and strength;
they were thoroughly, inalienably de
voted to each other; they had property
to the value, I think, of some thousands
of dollars; they had beep - trained to
habits of industry :mil ; and
they had not nii-rely the knock of writ
ing for the press which so many mis
takenly imagined sufficient), but they
had, Ihrougti the last tin or twelve years,
been slowly but steadily winning atten
tion and appreciation, by their volunta
ry contributions to the journals. These
though uncompensateil in money, had
won Mr them what now was money's
worth. It would pay to [my their effu
sions, though others of equal intrinsic
merit, but whose writers hail hitherto
won no place in the regard of the read
ing public, might pass unread and un
considered.
Being already an acquaintance, I call
ed on the sisters soon after they, had set
up their household gods among us, and
met them at intervals thereafter at their
home or at the houses of mutual friends.
Their parlor was not so large us some
others, but quite as neat and cheerful ;
and the few literary persons, or artists,
who occasionally met at their in fiymal
invitation to discuss with them a cup
of tea and the newest books, poems, and
events, might have found many more
pretentious, but few more enjoyable,
gatherings. I have a dim recollection
that the first of these little tea-parties
was held up two flights of stairs, in one
of the less fashionable sections of the
city; but good timings were said there
that I recall with pleasure yet; while
of some of the company, on whom I
have not since set eyes, I cherish a pleas
ant and grateful remembrance. As their
circumstances gradually though slowly
improved, by dint of diligent industry
and judicious economy, they occupied
more eligible quarters ; and the modest
dwelling they have for some years own
ed and improved, in the very heart of
this emporium, has long been known to
the literary guild as combining one of
the hest private libraries, with*the sun
niest crawing-room (even by gas-light)
to be found between King's Bridge and
the Battery.
Their first decided literary venture—
a joint volume of poems, most of which
had already appeared In sundry journals
—was published in Philadelphia early
in 1850, before they had abandoned
" Clovernook," their rural western
home, for the brick-and-mortar whirl
of the American Babel. Probably the
heartiness of its welcome fortified—it
did not stimulate—their resolve to ml-
grate eastward, though it is a safe guess
that no direct pecuniary advantage ac
crued to them from its publication. But
the next year witnessed the "Coming
Out" out of Alice's first series of "Clo
vernook Papers," prose sketches of char
acters and incidents drawn from obser
vation and experience, which won im
mediate and decided popularity. The
press heartily recognizeu their fresh
simplicity and originality, while the
public bought, read and admired. Sev
eral goodly editions were sold in this
country, and at least one in Great Brit
ain, where their merits were generously
appreciated by the critics. A second
series, published in 1853, was equally
successful. "The Clovernook Children"
—issued in 1554 by Ticknor &
and addressed more especially to the
tastes and wants of younger readers— I
has been hardly less commended or less I
pop ular.
Lyra and other Poems," published
by Redfield iu 1853, was the first vol
ume of verse in which Miss Cary chal
lenged the judgment of critics indepen
dently of her sister. That it was a de
cided success is sufficiently indicated by
the fact that a more complete edition,
including all the contents of Redfield's,
with much more, was issued by Tick •
nor & Fields, in "'The Maiden of
Thiscala,"la narrative poem of 7:2 pages,
was first given to the public in this Bos
ton edition.
Her first, novel—" Hagar; a Story of
To-day "—was written for and appear
ed in 77i einchmoti (?ilmnrecial, ap
pearing in a book form in 1K52. '•Mar
ried, not Mated,'' followed in 18 6, and
" The Bishop's Son," her last, was is
sued by Carleton in ISM'. Each oldiese
has had a good reception, alike from
critics and readers, through their pecu
niary success has, perhaps, been less
decided than that of her poems and
shorter sketches.
Of her "Pictures of Country Life,'
brought out by Derby & Jackson in
IS.SU, The Literarg tzette (Londonl,
which is not accustomed to flatter Amer
ican authors, said: "Every tale in this
book might be selected as evidence of
some new beauty or unhackneyed grace.
There is nothing feeble, nothing vulgar,
and, above all, nothing unnatural or
melo-dramatic. To the analytical sub
tlety and marvelous naturalness of the
French school of romance she has added
the purity and idealization of the home
affections and home life belonging to
the English, giving to both the Ameri
can richness of color and vigor of out
line, and her own individual power and
loveliness."
Except her later novels, Miss Cary's
works have in good part appeared first
in periodicals—The At/antic Naga:inc,
H01701'5, The Neu , York Ledger, and
The filch pendent ; but many, if not
most, or them have generally been af
terward issued in her successive vol
umes, along with others not previously
published. " Lyrics and Hymns," is
sued in ISiki by Hurd & Boughton,
" The Lover's Diary," admirably
brought out by 'Ticknor A: Fields in
I w;;', and " Snow Berries, a Rook for
Young Folks," by . the same house, are
her latest volumes. Nearly all of her
prose works have been reprinted in Lon
don, and have there, as well as here, re
ceived a cordial and intelligent welcome.
Few American women have written
more than Miss Cary, and still fewer
have written more successfully. Vet
she does not write rapidly nor reckless.
ly, and her works evince conscientious,
painstaking ell'ort, rather than trans
cendent genius or fitful inspiration.
111-health has of late interrupted, if riot
arrested her labors; but, in the intervals
of relative exemption from weakness
and suffering, her pen is still busy, and
her large circle of admiring readers may
still confidently hope that her melody
will not cease to flow till song and sing
er are together hushed in the silence of
the grave.
From her many poems that T would
gladly quote, I choose this as the short
est, not the best :
111,114 h We Maki: lake revh ,, n inq
ron
\V 1, le 01 a rightena, roar,. and are umbel
Out ul ILI, deeps ul 11)Ve We Cannot he'
For, M- those heavy strokes NVai
the tierce are of 111 tav4ll teat
per.ng doubt,
(Mr natures more atol more are hmtten out,
ISEE=I
Ifl have written aright this hasty
sketch, there are hope and comfort
therein for those who are just entering
upon responsible life with no inure than
average opportunities and advantages.
If I have not shown this, read the works
of Alice and Phebe Cary, and lint it
there'
Miss Cary has been an invalid t . or
many years, and the disease to which
she finally succumbed was her constant
companion lor IS months, during most
of which tine her sof lering was very
severe. In spite of this, however, her
contributions b, the press were frequent.
containing no hint or flavor of illness.
1-ter intimate friends were often permit
ted to see and converse with her, and
the memory of such interviews will
be to them henceforth unspeaka
bly precious. During the last Summer,
under the patient nursing of her sister
and nieces, she rallied fur a time, mak
ing a journey to Northern Vermont. At
times strong hopes were indulged oilier
ultimate recovery, but in the early Win
ter it became apparent to her friends
that she could not long survive. Fur
some weeks she has been slowly but
surely sinking, and during her last 4s
hours she was insensible. The faith of
her early years—the faith in (I.od's eter
mil goodness—was her stay and support
to tire very Tribune.
The Books Most Read
01 course it always happens that a
great many people want the same book,
especially when the book is new, and
the librarian consequently buys a num
ber of copies of every publication for
which there is likely to be a general de
mand. He bought five hundred copies
of "I,othair, - and afterward sold about
one hundred and fifty of them, as the
public interest in the work gradually
died away. There are stil.l, however,
fifty or seventy-five copies in use all the
time. More of the surplus stock might
be sold ; but experience has shown that
the popularity of a book k StihjeCt. to un
f,ireseen revivals, anti if r. Disraeli
should die,or become Prime Minister, or
do anything else to bring himself into
prominent notice, there would be a sud
den call Mrall the copies on hand. More
over, 1,,:0ks wear out very soon in a lend
ing library, and it is desirable to have a re
serve to renew them front. Of Mark
Twain's "Innocents Abroad" the library
lots 115 copies, all of which are constant
ly it use and ordered in advance. Of
"Man and \Vile" 250 copies were pur
chased, and the demand was far in ex
cess of the supply. Among the most
I popular of recent publications are Miss
Alcott's "Little Women" and "An Old
Fashioned Girl," 250 copies of each be
ing in constant circulation ; "A Brave
Lady," which calls for 7.5 copies; "The
Oates Ajar," 52 copies; "Hedged 1 n n,"
50 copies; "The Villa on the Rhine,"
50 copies; "The Countess Gisela," 5n
copies; Pumpelly's "Across America
and Asia," 50 copies; Orton's '"the
Andes and the Amazon," A) copies;
Crabb Itobinson's "Diary,'' Co copies ;
Miss Mitford's "Life and Letters," 25
I copies; Leeky's "History of European
Morals," 10 copies; Fronde's concluding
volumes, 15 copies ; Hall's " Health by
Good Living," 50 copies. Most of these
figures apply to the date of the last ma
nual report, and since that time there
has been probably a falling MT in the
d2mand for some of the books enume
rated. There is a steadily-increasing
call for Dickens, which, of course, was
greatly a ugmented2tfter his death ; but
The Mystery of Edwin Brood" is not
much iu demand. " Red as a Rose is
She" was so popular that 100 copies
were called for all the time; and the
librarian was also obliged to buy a num
berof extra copies of two previous works
of the same writer, which had almost
passed odt, of circulation. Of Miss
Evans' " Vashti " 200 copies were for
some time In constant use, but it is little
read now. On the other hand it was
necessary to buy last year 15 extra
copies of " Uncle Tom's Cabin," 12 of
" Beulah," and 8 of the " Marble Faun."
Of so serious a work as Henry James'
"Secret of Swedenborg," there is a
steady use for 5 copies.
There is an increasing demand for
Buckle, Mill, and the essays and re
views
of Macaulay, of which it has been
necessary to enlarge thestock. Tyndall,
Huxley, and Lubbock are very exten
sively read ; and the new theories and
developments of science seem to excite
a great deal of interest among the pa
trons of the Library. If there is no per
ceptible change in the ratio betweed
works of !fiction and standard litera
ture circulated, there is certainly an
improvement in the public taste mani
fested, by the relative popularity of
!good and mediocre in both these
uepartruents. In fiction, for ex
ample, out of 1,000 volumes issued re
cently in a single day, no fewer than .55
were by Thackeray, and 2.5 by Scott.
The steady advance of the popular relish
for Thackeray is unmistakable. Every
year the admirers of this noblest among,
novelists are multiplied, and the libra
rian finds it more anti more difficult to
satisfy their applications. The popu
larity of Sir Walter Scott seems also to
augment. Charles Iteade and Mrs.
Craik (Miss Muloch) are steady favor
ites. The circulation of Charlotte
Bronte's novels has always been large,
and grows larger and larger every year.
Seribnet'd for Febru«ry.
Uncle sam's Strong Box
The Treasury Building in Washing,-
ton covers three acres. Built of granite,
after a Grecian model, its pediments
shaped upon the spot, and its pillar
monoliths, its length and breadth in
true proportion to its height, and its or
naments and fittings, fountains and
gardens, approaches and esplanades,
corresponding to each other and to the
whole—it is, perhaps, more nearly per
fect than any other public edifice in
America.
Within its walls are the (offices of two
Cabinet-Ministers, and eleven Heads ,of
Bureaus. There are chiefs of divisions,
Comptrollers and their subordinates,
Auditors of Claimsiand Accounts, prim
ers of the currency, women who copy,
and men who revise, merchants and
laborers, messengers and watchmen.
operatives and their superintendents,
cunning artificers who engrave and deft
experts who examinc--including,
told, fully three thousand souls. Of the
complex working of this vast living
machine, of its wheels within wheels,
of the grades of office, payments
vices, and specialties of divisions, 1 do
not purpose to write. I wish simply to
describe one bureau—that of the United
States Treasurer, the depositary and
guardian of the people's money. This
office, the 'treasury proper, occupies the
place of honor in the building, the prin
cipal entrance in the magnificent new
north front leading directly to it. En
tering, the visitor's eye is attracted by
an inscription, "The United States
Treasury." 'Phis is over the dour of the
cash-room, one of the finest business
rooms in America. A gallery opening
from a corridor in the second story—nor
the caeh-room comprises two stories in
height—atibrds the visitor a view of the
interior. It is seventy feet long by thirty
broad. The floor is of marble; marble
columns with exquisitely wrought cap
itals and bases sustain the ceiling, and
panels of the same set in frames of a
different hue form the sides. The walls
alone cost sixty-five thousand dollars,
and the bronze railing of beautiful de
sign, enclosing the gallery, cost twenty
thousand.
_Descending, and p:Aing through the
cash-room to a corridor near by, one
sees huge iron panels w h ich appear to
norm part of the walls. They extend
from floor to ceiling, and bear heavy
mouldings. In the centre of each is the
national shield, and the letters U. S. --
These panels form (me side of the great
vault—" Uncle Sam's" strong box. I
had imagined the government treasure
hidden away in some remote under
ground cell, as if it were the hoard of a
miser, but the money-vault opens from
a frequented corridor, receiving abun
dant daylight from one of its broad win
dows. 'Fbe Assistant 'Treasurer, kind
and obliging as lie is efficient and faith
ful, bids us enter. It is a room about
twelve feet square, with little in appear
ace to indicate its character or purpose.
No imposing display of strength im
presses the visitor. The harriers of iron
and depths of granite which stand be
tween millions of treasure and the mid
night torch or burglar's implements, are
concealed behind light wooden cases,
such as might belong to a housekeeper's
linen-press. The echo of his footstep on
an iron floor, and the ponderous door
with its huge lock SO fearfully and won
derfully made, are all that remind him
that he is within the fortress of a na
tion's wealth.
The doors of the - cases opening, one
sees canvas-bags tossed carelessly in
heaps. They contain one hundred mil
lion in gold. Here are two hun
dred thousand dollars which.were taken
(rein Jefferson Davis, at the time of his
capture. The total value of money now
in the vault is four hundred millions.- -
Huge packages of greenbacks, fresh
from the engravers' hands, cut sail
signed, are stored away ready for circu
lation, and box upon box tilled with
fractional currency load the shelves.
Near the money : -vault is another, sim
ilar in appearanceaml surroundings. Its
walls are lined with pigeon holes.--
1' hese are filled with envelopes contain
ing bonds sent here by national bank,
as security for their circulation. The
largest deposit is that of the Bank of
Commerce of N f'W York--seven and
half millions, the annual interest upon
which amounts to over fiatr hundred
thousand dollars. Sixteen hundred a n d
ninety-live banks are represerited. No
other deposits are kept.
The daily receipts of tie Treasury,
from Assistant Treasurers, and from all
sources, are placed in the money-vault.
There are seven sub-treasury offices trib
utary to this—at New York, Boston,
Philadelphia, St. Louis, New Orleans,
Charleston, mid San Francisco. The
transactions of all these offices are daily
reported here to the Treasurer of the
- sited States.
An important branch of the Treasu
rer's Bureau is the redemption division
Each mail brings to the department
hundreds or thousands of dollars in
worn-out currency. It is taken in by
banks and postmasters. When received
at the Treasury, an account is first made I
of it, when it is sent to the desks of the I
female clerks, of whom there are one
hundred and eighty-three in this bu
reau. When smoothed out careful
ly examined for counterfeits and re-'
counted, the bills are done up in
packages, each consisting of notes
whose value is expressed by a multiple
of one hundred. A paper band is pin
ned round either end, upon which is
written the mar roof the clerk who count
ed it, and the result of her (-mint.
equivalent is there made up for the
bank or post-ollice transmitting it, in
fresh new currency. Should counter- •
feits have been sent, they are deducted,
branded, pinned suggestively to the
letter acknowledging receipt, and re
turned. The packages of worn-out notes
are next taken to a machine which
punches a hole in both ends, and then
to a cutting-machine, which divides
them in halves. These halves are pack
ed in separate boxes, one box going to
the office of the Treasurer, the other to
that of the Register of the Treasury,
where they are counted for the third
time. If the result be the some In both
offices ' the count is supposed f he cur
rect. The notes are then burned, and
the Treasury is at liberty to issue new
ones in their places.
This burning is quite a firma! sniff.
If Treasury notes (greenbacks) are to be
destroyed, the burning is presided over
by four officials—one each from the
office of the treasurer, register, and sec
retary and some person outside the bu
reau, who is appointed by the Secretary
of the Treasury. if the destruction be
of national bank-notes, the fourth wit
ness is selected by the bauk-directors.
These witnesses are present to see that
the money is actually burned. Filthy
lucre, literally and figuratively, it is.
Any thing else except money, half so
nasty, would be spurned in disgust.
Many of the women engaged in the
redemption-bureau become exceedingly
expert in detecting counterfeits, match
ing fragments of notes, and counting
currency. The ends of their fingers are
educated to such a degree of sensitive
ness that they discover counterfeits
simply by feeling. A gentleman who, I
think, must have been slightly jealous
of this new competition In the labor
market, said : " No wonder they count
money rapidly, they are so light-finger
ed." But their superior officers bear
witness to the fact, not only that light
ness of fingers enables them to count
money rapidly, but that they possess a
quickness of perception by which they
count with fewer mistakes than men. It
seems hard, though no doubt necessary,
that if, in spite of their carefulness, a
counterfeit does escape their facile fin
gers, or an error occur in their reckon
ing, they are obliged to make up the
loss front their own pockets. New
clerks often lose considerable sums in
consequence of such mistakes.
The proverbial patience of women is
to the excellent account in this bureau.
Packages of money occasionally come
for redemption which have suffered
shipwreck, andlain, perhaps for months,
under water. Many there are, of course,
torn to fragments. Color has disappear
ed from backs and faces. The fibre of
the paper is gone. To touch is to de
stroy them. What was done with these
sorry bits before government employed
women, I do ant know. Imagine the
' pulpy, half-macerated masses sent to the
desk of a man ! Do you not think they
would be emphatically pronounced
worthless, and the whole lot consigned
to the tire forthwith? The lady clerks
have undisputed monopoly of this sort
of business. They patiently sit down
and pick out, bit by bit, the crumpled,
faded fragments, sin.a>the them, match
the pieces, paste them on a new back
' ground, and, in most instances, restore
them in such degree that the domina
tion can be ascertained, and their owner
saved a loss
Notes which have been damaged by
fire are treated in the same manner.—
Charred and blackened inside some safe
which has survived a conflagration, urn
thin that a breath would blow them
away, or a touch reduce them to :tslies,
one of these expert clerks, nevertheless,
with her delicate fingers, tits the tatters I
together, and so arranges the ashes that j
the figures appear again, though in
shadow, dimly yet incontrovertibly at-
testing the fact that such notes have
, once been issued.
()evasion:llly it occurs that persons
who have defrauded the United :lutes
Treasury are troubled in conscience, and
prompted to return stolen money. An
aecount is kept of all such receipts.--
Somewhat over one hundred thousand•
dollars have come back within the past
six years, and been placed to the credit
ul Ihe sink iug fund. Imagine the rep],
thin of the tined States coffers, were ii
Sp:1,111 of retnt,Nv t, vu deli wow' L
army contractors into restitution their
ill-gotten gnins
An account is kepi of all moneys I LL
LLi % L ULL :Lt the Treasury -by whom it
ccines, for what purposes, whether cus
toms, taxes, sale of lands, internal reve
emit., or hams. A similar account is
kept of motie\ s paid Out—it bother on
are of pll [Ale debt, army, navy, di
!Lunatic and department officers,: or
miscellaneous expenses. 'rule business
dune, is,of course, immense. A sight of
the areld yes only bewilders. Vast cor
ridors in t h e basement are lined with
cases; every letter is received and filed
away ; and of every official communi
cation sent, the number of whit•h
amounted tootle hundred thousand last
year, a duplicate is kept. There are
huge registers in which every letter is
classified, so that, if called for, it is forth
coming. There is no confusion. Mis
takes are unknown. System makes
every thingperfeet, even to the minutest
detail. ~Ippitton'.l./uttond.
La iv) er's First Case
A year or two ago, a talented young
lawyer of Ibis city, whose name is not
Smith, and whose briefs have been like
angels' visits, true delighted by linding
in his office a richly dressed lady, who
announced her desire to employ him
professionally. With a beaming smile,
that could hardly lie restrained from
!inciting into a'fulldilown laugh, the
young Blackstone handed the lady a
cushioned unit-chair, and assured her
that he was "entirely and devotedly
at her service."
Seating herself in the prolli•red
chair. the lady ungloved a small, white
hand, that literally glistened with dia
monds, and applied a scented handker
chief to her lips, blushed, and, casting
her eyes upon the floor, said:
" Jly IlUainess is very particular—it is
—pardon me, sir, but you Will l , t be
tray me!"
" Betray you." Not for t h e world,
Madam. Von can confide in me with
the same reliance as in a priest at the
confessional."
"The fact is-1 want - that I Hato
•en unfortunate in my marriage rela-
The eyes of the lawyer glistened with
leasure, and drawing his chair close to
he side of the lady, remarked :
" I see—l see—you want a divorce. •
I inn just the man to get it for you. I
:on perfectly (pi Writ in matters id' this
kind, although I. never had a cane in
court. Ilow long have you been niar
ried'."'
"Nine years."
" Nine 'years! You must ha,. been
very young when you entered that bliss
ful--1 mean wretched state. -
" I was a mere child a Coolish, incx
perienced schiail girl. A doling mother
placed the in the :arms of a neat old
enough to be my father: lutt he wan
rich, and for two air three yearn I did
not know the di iterence— I was as happy
as though my husband had been twenty
years younger. But association with
other married women opened air eyes,
and I became wretched. I pined for—
well fur a heart that was more enrage
ni at With my own. A luau of your age,
now, would have suited me lietter."
" Exactly so!" exclaimed the lawyer,
rubbing his hands and twisting his in
cipient moustache. " But your sutkr
ings will soon terminate ; I will get you
divorce, and then—"
' a dew' me '.—and then—but I must
n ut h e too sanguine. My husband is
very rich, and he will never permit me
to tel a divorce if he can help it."
" Madam, you don't know the law
its niaHty—its glorious certainty--its
magnanimity. Consider yourself di.
voreed, and rest easy."
Well, sir, how shall I proceed '.''
" Let Die see--in the lirst place, give
me a statement of your grievances.".
- That would take a whole week. You
can imagine what a woman like use
must sutler with such a husliand.•'
" yrs—cruel and barldaams treat
ment—condition intolerable—neglect,
and all that sort of thing. I will just jet
down a few of the items. Your name
Y~ni t~iva I:lI \ to ' I ti'-
"Mrs
hand."
" What, the merchant', Ife's rich as
('nexus."
" he's rich but I don't care lar
that—l want a divorce."
The lawyer wrote down a sketch of
the lady's matrimonial infelicities, and
again assured her that lie would have no
difficulty in procuring a divorce, with at
least i , :10,000 alimony.
" I low much are you going to charge
me for making me so MLimy asked
the lady.
" I ought to charge you a thous
and dollars, but, out of consideration for
your sufferings, I will only take a re
tainer of one hundred dollars, and when
it is accomplished you will increase it
to live hundred dollars."
"That is extremely reasonable. I
have no change about me now. 0 yes,
here is a check for two hundred dollars
that my husband gave me toshop
ping with . I will only want half of it
to-day. \VIII you get it cashed for me?"
"1i isafter hank-heurs, but the check
is all right. I will give you one hun
dred for your shopping, and keep the
check."
The lawyer had that day received a
remittance of one hundred dollars from
his father, (and handed it over to the
lady, and, placing his check in his
poc);el.-uooli, bowed his client to the
door. He was excessively happy at his
good fortune, and that night dreamed
of angelic clients, sensational divorce
cases, and a huge pile of one hundred
dollar bills.
The next morning he went to the bank
to get his check cashed, and was thun
derstruck when the teller informed him
that the name of Mr. --- was forged!
Indignant at the thought that his :air
client had been guilty of so base a crime
as forging her husband's Wane, he hur
ried to the store of Mr. --, with the
intention of exposing the lady. lie was
still more astonished when Mr. in
formed him that he was a widower, and
had not been blessed With a wife for
more than ten years.
Young Blackstone seized with a tit of
melancholy, which still afflic:s him ;
for ail his efforts to find the fair swindler
have proved unavailing. He has come
to the conclusion to have nothing to du
with divorce cases, and has written to
his father to send hint another $lOO bill
to replace the one he gave his client for
a bogus check.—St. Louis Democrat.
In the Mississippi Legislature a bill
has been passed giving all persons equal
rights at licensed hotels. A bill has
been introduced revealing the law re
quiring hotels to pay license.
The Bloomington Pantograph of theh
Ist says : "A gentleman in this city
is seriously troubled with iniee, which
run over his table and about his room
showing no fear of anything. This
tine gentleman has a pet canary
bird, which he has been in the habit of
placing on the table and opening the
dour of the cage to allow the mice
admission into the cage, when the
oird immediately pounces upon them
and drives them' out. - Yesterday,
when repeating their performance;
mouse turned on the bird, and quite a
lively fight ensued, w.hielr resulted itt
the utter defeat of the mouse."
NUMBER 8
Royal Vengeance
An Incident In the Early Career of tilt
The Chicago Time. makes the f011, , w
Mg translation from the German:
On the road from Geneva to the won
t derful valley of the Channiunis the tray
eler linda the romantic, beautiful and
much-soughtlma grotto. Across the
Avra, which waters the valley, this
cave makes its way into the mountain
i for as nu nit as seven hundred feet.--
iume three hundred or four hundred
feet from the entrance an immense
abyss opens' its yawning mouth just
1 under your feet, and the rush of the
subterranean waters conies boihng up
from the depths. 'Hie cave is naturally
l one of the most favored resorts of the
whole region for the curious travelers.
In the summerof 1S:13 three young.
Frenchmen came to visit die grotto.
The Sardinian government had station
ed a widow-woman there l'or the greater I
accommodation of travelers, had given
her the exclusive privilege of all that
could lie made front the position, and
only required her to act as a guide to
all who wished to go through the cave.
The widow had a young girl to help
her, and the latter was called out to
show the three gentleman the sights of
the locality and guide them in the tour
of the grotto. Shortly after the party ,
had disappeared in the Cave, another
traveler, With a single sera ant, stopped,
and, dem:uuting the usual courtesies,
the widow herself took him Under her'
direction, and la gait the tour M . imwec-
Lion.
\\*hen the three young gentlemen
who had arrived tirst came out of the
cave. the young girl haunted them the
traveler's register, asked them to write
their 11:1111CS it it, us they had neglected
to do su before entering. tine of I li e
three answered that they never did this.
The speaker occupied it position or su
periority aiming his comrades, although
there was nothing in his age or dress to
indicate a cause for this. The young
man, though refusing to sign, kepl the
hook for a few moments, running over
its pages and reading :timid some of the
names, while they all laughed and joked
about some of the registered travel
ers. Hut when his eye fell at last upon
the anal name in the list, his face flush
ed instantly, and he asked if the stran
ger who had just signed was Still ill the
cave. The young girl answered that he
was. They hind met hint once or Mi..'
ill the tour, httt had not been able to
distinguish his features by the flicker
ing light of thu torches, and had only
caught occasional words of had French
at which they had laughed immoder
ately.
'llw younz limn who was looking over
the boot: now r:tlled his companions,
who, as soon as they StINV the sauce,
looked at eaelt other with mingled ex
pressions of rage and tistonisliment.
Suddenly, the first our• snatched the
hook out of their hands, zuid cried nut:
" 17od has thrown him in our way,
that we may punish him fin• Ilk vil
lainy. as lie deserves."
" Let's go utter him at once!" cried
another, and he had scarcely spoken
before all three sprang toward the en
trance of the grotto, one of them snatch
ing the torch from the young girl's
hand. Such was their haste that they
struck themselves against. the rocks
and stalactites so forcibly as to draw
the blood, but they rushed on without
paying any attention to this. The girl
was almost frightened to death, for she
felt that there was something wicked in
their intentions. The three friends
clinic back almost immediately, seized
tier, Mid forced her to go along with
them, in order that they might not tune
themselves in the tILVe.
All four hurried fora time through
the different galleries without meeting
the stranger, when the sotind of voices
in their vicinity told them that the man
they were looking fur woe separated
from them, only by the distance of a
pat h Wlty.
'Flo/ poor girl's heart beat wildly, for
she feared the worst. I toffekl, the three
frienklkpuslied forw kkrd as soon at; they I
heard the ',,ices and throwing her to
one side, sprang upon the stranger.
'Pike neat thing, the girl heard was
piercing outcry for help, and, pressing
lorWarti us rapidly :is possible she saw
that the three young men had seized the
stanger by the throat and were shaking
him with all their might, he himself
crying out piteously for help, and his
servant, trembling in every linkb, beg
ging fur mercy fur iris master.
" Into the abyss! Throw him into
the abyss!" cried the brinier of the
young men. 'fire others obedient to
ekknimand, threw off the servant who
was hanging on their garments, and
dragged their victim toward the gulf at
the back of the rave. \Vith 1111 the
power of desperation, the stranger en
deavored to make a resistance !remade
nu etiort to grasp at kc:ery projecting
crystal, and held on to every ,tune; liken
occasionally, he would much nut his two
lacerated hands to the women, and
ankkle a heart-rending appeal fur as
sistance. It was all ill vain. The two
women were overcome with fright, anti
the stranger, who was:01411111111M, could
110 t hope to anything against
the united strength of three young men,
I with their original powers increased by
! their rage.
lie Nt :IS tlirOWil to the ground and
dragged along in spite of all that he
could do. When they reached the ter
rible yawning gulf he made another
elthrt to soften the rage of his per
! secutors by supplications, and Ire
pray
ed by all that was holy and dear to
k them, that they would not consign Nina
' to so horrible a death. This seemed only
! to increase their savageness.
i " infernal scoundrel," they cried
" you didn't show any mercy to your
victim, and you niu•ff expect none trim
us."
NVith these words they raised hill,
I from the ground, and his holly was
already stinging over the waters of the
abyss.
This horrible moment scented to bring
to the widow, whose !dmvalid life were
also dependant on the result, new
!strength and eouray - e. She sprang fur-
ward and seized 11171k1 of the feet of the
unhappy man, screaming:
"Merey, mercy, gentlemen ! Have
! mercy on me, at least. You will ruin
e if this happens."
She threw herself on the ground as
she spoke, and the great tears ;not s,,hs
prevented her front saying more. I ler
young companion threw herself down
at the widow's side and renewed tlo• en
treaties.
Whether it was 011 20T011111 of the
tears and prayers of the two women-- '
influence which Frenchmen cannot re
sist—or whether it was only their inten
tion from the first to frighten their vic
tim, it is certain that they drew back
the body of the miserable wretch from
the mouth of the abyss, without, how
ever, loosening their hold upon hint.
" Very well, we will spare his life,"
they said, after consulting together for
a moment. " But von shall suffer a
punishment," they continued to him,
"that is worthy of your damnable per
fidy. Come along.' .
'They now dragged the stranger back
towards the entrance of the cave. Ile
was in a sorry plight when he came to
the light of the day. Ills clothes were
turn into tatters, his face and hands
were bloody, his eyes were tixt d with
terror, he could scarcely hold himself
erect. The women followed the party,
pale and trembling, and uncertain as to
what outrage would happen.
When they passed the entrance, the
three men forced the stranger down
upon his knees before the table, in spite
lof his resistance. He still thought. that
the hour of his death had come, and the
women also feared es niuch.
The traveler& register lay on the table,
and one of the three pushed it toward
their victim.
"We condemn you, you wretch,"
they cried, "to erase your unworthy
name out of the book which you have
disgraced with it.''
The stranger seized the pcu eagerly
to draw It across his name.
" No, no ! not that way!" said their
leader. " You must lick it out with
your tongue."
The stranger again showed signs of
resistance in spite of the threats; hut,
finally, as his enemies forced his head
down over the hook and held it there,
lie complied with the humiliating de
mand.
When he had done this, the three
young men threw him outside of the
cave, and went away themselves with
out saying who they were.
The young girl, a short time after,
went to the neighboring village, where
she knew they must have stopped, and,
asking at the principal unit, discovered
that there had .been a young man there
that day with two traveling companions,
and that his name was Louis Napoleon.
The name of the persecuted stranger,
, as hut half erased after all, was
BUSINF-SS A DVERTISHMKNTS,
square of len lines; SS per year
I lonal square.
RKAL ESTATE ADVERTISING, 10
; lint; and p vents for earls /4
Itnertion.
GENERAL ADYERTISINn, 7 vents
drat, and I cents for each stab
SPECIAL NOTICES Inserted in
15 cents per Ilse.
SPECIAL NOTICES I,rtlcedirS4 II
lleatlOL 10 yenta per line i'or
and 5 cents for every sub:A.(lnel
LEGAL AND OTHER NoTICE4—
EXOCCGOrtV notice, ...........
Administrators' n0tice..... ....
Assiznees? notices
Auditors' notices
Other" Notices," tell lines, o
three times
Hudson Lowe—the keeper
I. at St. Helena. This man
exceeded, in his suspieton
fulness, thostriet imtruction
English Government had gi
regard to the prisoner wilt
garded rts SO d angerous, an
harsh treatment of the grey
whieli had drawn upon him
hatred of the Emperor and
lives, :tint which finally nun
victim of s,) disgraceful a ref
Deaths from Excessive
'rile death (;tittt,Chall:,
piano, ill the net of perform'
vorire conmosition, "I,a I%lor
no means the first cireinns
kind related in inti..3ical an
history. \Vt. retail immediate
and his " talailie !magma
Oiler personage in the emu
sick man, which part was
the author himself. It
fourth night of the run, Moll
and ailing, went on for the
and got through it until the
which his •:llallieSS" was to
dead. Thh.l lie tilt' so well, tha
ease persons in the
deceived. But, alas! it was
for the poor dramatist wits
truth. 1 iighes, the dramatis
an hour after he received lim• I
the ~uccc=s 01 lii, play of "Th
itainascits." :q..),1 3 ., the trage
in the very middle of his pe
lq*Chttith4l, in " :\len,ure f o r
He had keen melancholy
011 arcouut of tile loss
member of his family, awl of
'ling, of tilt play Wa,, ell t‘l
dressing-room and weep. Iti
personation scan much heiler tl
ever heel' belt ; IIIIII•11
llmt Ili, felloNv•aciors remarks
hint, in the seen'. where 'sal
him prepare for execution, ni
savers in the., L,oautitul lines b
Ay, but to die, and go we
where" hevailie
fell to the stage. The audit
moment imagined it was :I II
:111,1 applauded accordingly.
truth was very Soon Made tutu
: 4 0111eWhat ',V:1,4 (110
John Pahner, for %%limn Sher
be said to written " The .
Scandal." 'Flue play was '"l'
ger." Pahncr, who had it
lota.ly, beset with inclanchol3
time before, niter uttering
"
With touching pat ho,, sudden
closed leia eyes, and leaned
Francis of tile evening,, \
had ,pokeit iii.. 1:1,4 ord,
" When rams•
grand lines -"()! • forgive
the trailquil mind! Is'areNvoll
he pau -ed. TlO.ll slowly, .10
the 11111.i' 01 . the 1:1a eatIVIIC
but :is hreal li. •
Iti , p,ring 10 his
tutu dying '" Arid .4,, he watt
Etrt•rt of Itrlcht Ifni on A
‘Ve iiavt. novel' SeL been Hid
tt Sffilliillll 1,1 the curious ell;
sight, (a scarlet, or brilliant o
crimson on some animals. N,
on natural history weever hay
given satislactory explanation
which must often hove 'wen it
the most iamb-crvant. An
says :
" Alany persons have ummine
lost their lives in con-eyiei•t
lag articles ..f dress which pro
niesticated animals to 5111 . 11 11
fury as to lead to melancholy
Fenutles, for example, in allot
cross a pasture, wearing a red
red covering for the head,
dress, or flowing scarlet rillhol
',unsure grazing 11:1culnllhelr Ii
otherwise peaceably disposed
inteusely infuriated :it hllllll.
the sight 11i bright red handl
or almost any article or
titular hue. It is equally
that turkeys manifest the sum
11555:11.11illilli11iail . excitement a
or red dresses. 'l'liciturkt•y cots
occasions aSSIIIIICS eXtromillina
ty, gob b ling most uproariot
creating immense exeitemen
lalit lc, not accustomed to th
Nearly all the wild grazing 11.11
extreme surprise, if it
when a red cloth floats before
Selltstinois
Live for some purpose in II
Isva.ys ail your part «•ell. I.
measure lif duty to others.
yourselves so you shall be ml
sorrmv when you are gone. N
of our species are living in suet
manner that they are not Ill:
remembered alter their disail
They leave behind them sea
traces of their existenec, and
ten almost :Ls though they It
been. They are, while they
saute pebble lying unobserved
million On theshore; anti whu
they ore like that sane pebble t
to the SOIL, WiliCil just ruffles ti
sinks, and is forgotten, \Vi
ing missed from the L ea ch.
!Wittier regretted by the rich,
the poor, nor celebrated by Ili
\Vito has !wen the better for t
Whose tears have the,y dried ui
wants supplied:' \Vhose
they healed \\•ht, would
gate of Ills to re-admit then
envy? or what Mee would g
hack again to our world with
\V retehed, unproductive mod
CIICU! Seili,lllleSS is its own C
a starving vice. The man wl
good gets none. Ile is like th
the desert, neither y fru
log when good cooleth ;
iniscrahle shrul,
Attachment to Newspap
The strong attachment of et
to a well conducted itewspape
confirmed by publishers. ''
paper," words M . dread to to
ners, lose their terror after a j(
been established for a term
So long as a paper pursues a
oratile and judicious course, in
wants or its customers in al
the ties of friendship between
seribers and the paper :ire a
to break by any outside tl
ty as the links which
friends in business or social
easional defects and errors It
paper are overlooked by II
have become attached to it ll
perusal Mr years. They n
times become dissatisfied
account of something which It
into its columns and may stop
but the absence of tiM fain
at their house or ollice for a I
becomes insupportable
lion, and they hasten to re.
scription. This is the (.1)1111 ,
rience in the history of all e
papers. No friendship on ca
constant than that contract
readers for a journal which
honest and earliest dirt to
continued support.—Ex.
A Soft Answer Turneth
loft words are like the gent
which lull in April, reviving
tifying, all nature, while h
are like wintry storms who
blasts spread desolation :trout
ant words are as easy to alt
ones ; how much better, then
ter good than evil' The tr
above proverb is found in eve
aid's experience. \Vim do
member the moment when p
a strong current was ready to
front the heart and lips, whet
ence of a kind word turner
tide of feeling and made n
calmly and considerately?
feels the force of a mother
voice, recalling it from "sin
live way" to walk in the pat
Even a 'refractory scholar is
to love anti obedience by the
of a faithful teacher, and
much of the unpleasantness
room is occasioned by failing
her that a " soft answer tart
wrath." We all need to kee
the conviction that the intl
we exert now is for eterni
every act of our, lives let us
of Him to , whotti we must re
count of every unkind and e
An Elmira farmer wrote
reeley for ail vice as to the l
Lees to keep, and received ai
the effect that '• husking
the best, but fu order to Ma
honey profitably he must n
nest-egg, and blanket his
they are not on the treat,
bran and "
Jerome Hopkins says he
playing upon an old organ
our city eburelies,l that w
coughs, and " eilekh, like a
suppose that I the r.ustai
many a " tuneltil lay" out o