The Two Age*. Folks were ksppy as day* wore ln 111 the old Arcadian times; Whan life seamed oaly a dance and song In the awaetoat ol all awoot clime*. Our world grown bigger, and, atage by stage, As the pitiless years linve rolled. We've quite lorgotton the gotdon age, And come to the age oi gold. Time went by in a sheepish way Upon Thaaaaly's plains ot yore, In the nineteenth century lambs at play Mt an mutton, und nothing more. Our swains at present are lur too sage To lire as one lived ol old; 80 they couple the crook ot the golden ago With a hook in the ago ol gold. From Uorydon'a ree l the mountains round Heart news ot his latest flame 1 Ami Tityrus made the woods resound With echoes ot Daphne's name. They kindly lelt us a lasting gauge 01 their musical art, we're told j And the Pandean pipe ol tho golden age Brings mirth to tiie age of gold. Dwellers in huts and in marble", halls From shepherdess up to queen— Ciuid little lor bonnets, and less lor shawla, And nothing tor crinoline. Bat now simplicity's not tho rage, Ami it's tunny to tliiuk how cold The dross thoy wore in tho golden ago W oald seem in the ogu ol gold. Hi . rio telegraphs, printing, gas, '1 .".acco, bulloons and steam, Air . :;lo events that liavo come to pass Since the days of the old regime; And ■ pito ol Leinpriore's dazzling piure, I'd g vo—though it might seem bold— A hnn ired years ol tho golden ago For a year ol the age Ol gold. H*nry S. Ligh. IN A POCKET. A HOLIDAY BTOKT. "Weil, well," ?aid good Adonijvh Courtney, raising 'lis eyes heavenward. "Providence has indeed alllicted us; but should we mourn its those without hope? Nay, surely not, since all flesh is weak and unabie to meet and with stand temptation in its own strength and our dear boy, Lionel, still gives ut hope of his repentance. All is not los , sister Keziah," and he pressed his spin ster companion's withered and tremt • ling hand reassuringly, as he bade h > pretty, tearful niece (the culprit's sister), to re-read the letter of confessio that had that evening burst like . bombshell in their midst and caused tl. good and simp!e-m nded people gTe sorrow nnd anxiety of mind. Luy G.t,.aty I 'd her brother's singularly jerky and illegibly-written epistle open tieforc her. indeed she had never closed It since it came, but con tinued to pour over its shaky characters in the vague hope of gleaming a ray ol light to illumine the murky record. At her uncle's request, she tried hard to swallow the painful lump that had been apparently growing in her throat ever since her stsrtled min 1 took in the wretched tidings. She was a gentle, shy- mannered girl, of great persoiyil beauty an* equal modesty; but her strong, and as yet untried trait of character was unselfish devotion. She 10-vd the dear old pair who had re ceived her brother and herself in their early orphanage, and who had given every envrgy and thought to the eduea tioa and moral training of the other wise friendless children. Without ever having being outside of Greenville sinss she came there a little girl ten years before—Lily knew quite we i that her aunt and uncle were singularly in nocent and unwordly people, and, thouh she could not help hut fail into many of their primitive ways and illog ical views, she was quite sure that neither of them was fitted to start out in winter and travel to the great city whsre her poor dear brother was in trouble. She had quite resolved from the first that she would go to him her self, and when her voice trembled and he choking sensation oppress -d her most as she read on, it was when the conflict between her native timidity and courageous sense of duty occurred. The note was dated a day or two be fore Christmas and written in pencil so badly that it was .difficult to read. Iu style. too, was unlike Lionel's; in fact, there was no way to account for its ab rupt and uneven uliaracter except the true am". The dreadful snares and tempta tions of that frightful city, against which the elder pair, who had never passed a night in its polluted air, who had so faithlully warned him—had seized him in their illusive grasp. He had suc cumbed ; he tiad strayed and fallen from graos; some evil being had robbed htm, and now, contrite and helpless, ho called homeward for relief His scrawling epistle ran thus; "Mr DEAR UWCI.R Attn A nrr—l don't want Lily to be larmed (It was she who had opened the note), so I do not include her. I have had a misfortune— I trusted to myself in these slippery ways. I was a fool not to listen to coun sel—hut I thought I knew it all; the result is. I became lost, grew confused and fell. Do not alarm yourself, dear aunt and uncle I might have been much worse. As it is, in the confusion, I ioat my poeketbook. The people among whom, on coming to myself, I proved to lie, are not of the class for me to remain dependent on fcr asingle day. Piaass send or come. I inclose address, ttegret to>larm you. With love. UoaMt* In a different hand was a complicated direction, which Isly carefully detached and put it in her poeketbook. That was the first step taken—the rest followed quickly: " Uncle and aunt. 1 am going to tho city. My mind is made up, and please do not say No. You. dear uncle, arc suffering with one ol your worst attacks of rheumatism,and aunt's head is threat ened with her regular January neural gia. Martha is needed to look after you both, and Simon can't leave the barn, poor old man. As for me, I was nine years old when I was there last, but 1 remember the streets perfectly. I could even go to this place " —she pointed to the direction in the poeketbook—" after a little studying of tlx localities." She spoke so confident, looked so brave, and withal so hopeful, that the good couple could only accept her strength of purpose as providential, and " sent" for the trying occasion. 9 9 • • • It was ver. On Christmas day she sat in the center ol the middle car safest place in case of accidents. The eold air had frozen the tears on her cheeks; she look d through tho biur.-ed window at the dark outline of the old family carriago which Simon WILH driving up the lano homeward, and sent the venerable occupants a silent kiss pressed against the unsympathetic glass. The train was a fuil one; at every station new people came in, and at the second piace from Greenville, a gentle man of excellent appearance and ple;is ing manner came in and found no vacant place except the one beside IJly. He wore a handsome sable collar round his overcoat; in Lily's startled eye it seemed like a partial mask to his face, and when, pointing to the seat, he bowed I. is ri quest to be allowed to share it, she assented with a start and imme diately placed her hand protectingiy over her coal-pocket where her money was. She had merely turned her lace once toward the newcomer; that once, however, was quite sufficient to show him a pure, oval outline, eyes soft as velvet sad lovely brown in color, a straight nose and a mobile, red-lipped mouth —a little compressed and formal in its set—but sweet as an opening bud in June. Apparently the stranger was suscept ible to female loveliness; he threw off liis fur wrapping, adjusted his coat collnr and gave a becoming touch to his hat. He was young and good-looking, and seemed decidedly drawn toward the face that had been quickly averted from his view. Lily looked steadily out of the win dow and tried to think of her dear, but Unfortunate brother, who had left home to enjoy a brief holiday before choosing a profession and so soon fallen into life's "slippery way ." "What a pity it is that evil iurks under the most pleasing exteriors," she said to herrclf, with a sigh, and then she took a furtive peep out of the cor ner of her eye at her handsome com panion, which caused her to sigh again. Yes. he was very prepossessing, but it was of just such as he that she had al ways been told to beware. Evil de lighted to put on an alluring guise; but it was to entrap the unwary, and a charming, sniiiinv exterior was too fre quently the mask of the tempter. These solemn warnings all recurred to her mind faithfully, but somehow they gave her no great pleasure. "It is a pity!" she said, and looked out on the win ry prospect, with a fine sharp snow sifting through the gray air and the bare tree-boughs shivering in the wind. The shawl that Aunt Kexiah's thoughtfulneas had added to her niece's wrappings slipped off her knee upon the tloor; the observant stranger quick ly stooped to lift it. Lily bent down also; their faces nearly met and both were forced to smiie. "I beg your pardon?" said Lily, mechanically. Oh, how her face flushed the minute nfterl She had been the first to speak, and had actually addressed herself to a stranger? "1 am the one to apologia" 1 I am very awkward, I am sure!" cried the young man, elaborately replacing the wrapping. Lily recovered her self-possession, bowed coldly, nnd again look refuge in peering into the gloomy outer world. Suddenly, without a note of prepar ation, they shot into a huge nark tunaei. The transition from day to night wna so swift Uiat Lily almost screamed, and, do what she would to recover from the shock, her heart kept beating so that she couid scarcely breathe. Here was n situation totaily unlooked for. Neither her aunt nor her uncie bad prepared her mind for this—alone in the darkness, at the mercy of this deceptive and wily stranger, who had, no doubts many subtle mechanical Jontrivances at command for extracting pocket lawks Irom the possession of country victims! Her breath came shorter; she fancied she already felt something touch her pocket. She was no coward—no, she would defend herself —she would not submit to lose her treasure -those crisp green notes of large denomination that were to save Lionel, and put him straight n the paths of rectitude once more. The thought gave her courage; she slipped her hand softly r on* the thick beaver cloth, plunged it quickly into the pocket and caught a man's hand firmly in her own I Ah! well, it was done, and she a strong tight grip. Irom which, strange to say, it made no effort to free itself; hut, though triumphant, no one couid ever tell what that act of justice, that defense of right, had cost her! As she held the guilty member pris oner, her tender woman's heart softened and plead for the offender against her sterner judgment. It was a struggle and a bard one—he might he young in crime, the victim of ternptati/m, of un toward circumstances; Hhc would not give him over to punishment; she would rather shield him from retribution; hut she must protect her money. A pale, grayish atmosphere about them lasts an instant, then out tlicy flash into the clear, bright day, upon which the laggard, wintry sun has just poured a welcome flood of light, allow - ing clearly to her own horrified vision, and the deeply meditative gaze of her companion her little right hand thrust deep into his coat- pocket, which closely adjoined her own, and clinched witli all the force of its pretty pinkish lingers around his quietly imprisoned digits. There arc sonic things that happen in everybody's life of which the one most nearly concerned knows nothing. Lily Courtney never could tell till her dying day how her hand got out of her neigti bor's pocket. She somehow came to herself by-and-bye 'n a dazed way, her forehead resting against the window glass, and a succession of crimson blushes chasing each other over her burning checks. Covertly and by slow degrees she looked around. The seat was empty, the suspected pickpocket— of whom she would never think with out heartfelt shame—hail lelt her to her ruminations. They were not very agreeable ones. She had been taught that we could not be too suspicious—she was ready hence forth to deny the assertion entirely. "J wish I had been robbed rather than have put my hand " she could go no lurther even in thought. A hot blush always interrupted her. " I hope I may never, never see that gentleman again !" she declared, energetically; yet even as she said 80, she knew she did not quite mean it. There was time for no further mental conflict—thank goodness, there was the city ! It was two in the afternoon. Li.y was just in that mood when one ceases to he confidential even withoni self. She would not acknowledge that she saw the stranger as she crossed the depot; she would not admit that she was dubious a!>oui the direct on she should take to reach her brother; in fine, she was vexed and chagrined, un certain and excited, and e >uid not rc cognise herself as the resolute young heroine who had left Greenville that morning, relying on a store of good counsel, backed by her own sagacity. At a little distance from the station she hailed a car, after hastily reading its lettered sides. When she consulted the conductor, she learned she was being carried out of h> r way, and with a i houted line or two t f dire tions ringing nAer her sh'- descended and took an other with a varied but unsatisfactory result. She wished that she had not imbibed a prejudice against hacks and their drivers as being the ac< < -*ories ot mysterious disappearances she had r ad of in those awful city papers; hut. tired and distracted as she was. after two hours'aimless car-changing and mis taking ot points of the compass, she still couid sot trust herself, with night ap proaching to one of those conveyances. She resolved rather to go on foot, ask ing her way block by block, and she swallowed back her Uwrs and set out sturdily despite the cold. She forgot to be hungry, and was at last fairly on her way. Then she saw—she could not tell just with what feeling—directly in advance of her the gentleman with the sable col lar going the same way. After a time she ceased to ask and followed him blindly. She was half-benumhcd now, and she murmured to herself: "I be gan by suspecting him—now I am trust ing him in the dark!" True enough, night was coming on; they were turn ing into mean little streets, having come bark in the neighborhood of the depot. A handsome carriage—whose driver seemed to have waited for the stranger stood at the corner nnd received a ges ture of direction from him. AH three he, Liiy and the carriage, paused at a narrow dowr. it bore the number, and was in the street Lionc. bad sent to Greenville. The gentleman knocked then stood b.wk for bis companion to enter; the door opened Into a close, dirty little room, where poor Lionel lay, on en untidy settee, in the act. of bring made ready for removal by a kind and genial old geutleman, a little hasty in temper, it seemed, for he called out at sight of the young roan whose pocket Lily bad explored: "Well, you've got here at last, have you. Frank Bent ley! I've waited long enough, 1 should sar, and this poor boy suffering from a frac ture and fever in s place like this. The people who picked him up insensible off the ice out beyond in the next street, have been very kind," he added, to the German shoemaker and bis wife who stood by. " Tou found bim with bis head cut by his fall, his pocketbook lost or stolen, and carried bim here where be wrote home—and this morning got his senses sufficiently about him to send for me, wbicli was what he should have done at first." The doctor—for he was the doctor with whom Lionel had it in mind to study by-and-bye—talked on in this strain to relieve an evident em barrassment. Young Dr. Bently. his son, explained (while the sister nnd brother indulged in a singularly fervent embrace, consid ering that they had been hut two days separated) that he hnd received his fatt er'# message per family servant on his arrival at the depot at two o'clock, but 1 hat he was detained by a pressing and most imperative engagement—(be did not explain that said engagement was his own resolution to follow respsstful Jy and unseen to her destination the pretty timid little Lily, of Greenville,' who bad, by the odd process of entering hi* pocket, stolen his heart. Huch things will do to keep,'.as will also Lily's pleased amazement at the family misinterpreta tion of poor Lionel's letter, written in pain and fever. He, too, proud of his early recollections of the city ways, tartcd on foot over its icy pavements and met with a physical, and a moral fall. That little mistake was explained and laughed over, hut Lily did not want hers to share the same late—to keep it secret she tvrn bribed Frank Benely. Once lie threatened—" Oh, do r.ot tell about my hand!"she whispered,entreat ingly. "I won't if you will give it tome," was the answer, in the same key. Well—Aunt Keziah liked him. Uncle Adonijsh found him suitable, and they were married on Christmas eve—a year after her adventure " in a pocket!" Creosote for Bronchitis and Catarrh. When going from Switzerland to Italy, via Mount Cenis, some years ago, the writer contracted a sudden wvere cold, which, in the chill air of Ttlrin, soon brought on a severe attack ol bronchitis. Wo hastened over to the genial air of Genoa, hut it afforded little relief, and the advice ol Dr. l'accioci, professor in the noted Italian medical college there, was called in pre scribed a very simple remedy, which was at once effective, as it has been with many others to whom we have since re commended it. f'ul into a pint or larger Lottie about three gills of water, and add two drops of good creosote. Shake very thoroughly, take a mouth full gargling it awhile in the throat, and swallow it. Repeat this frequently, so as to use up the mixture in the first twenty-four hours, always shaking weil before taring. After the first day u>< three drops of creosote and the same amount of water during twenty-four hours, so eeu successively the wife of an army officer, of an Indian chief, of a t>order highway man and of a Methodist missionary. She died recently just as she had closed a century of life. Peter Hazzard's great joy v.as his violin. He had immense feet, hut he could beat all. far and near, at cutting "pigeon wings" and the old-fashion*d : styles of dancing. He died recently at Groton, Mass., aged lo| years. For the nrniest salary of i*3o per an num, Abraham L. Dickstein, of Herin gen, in I.imburg Germany, is still teaching school at the age of I<4. He is 'he oldest acting teacher in the world, and has been a pedagogue for sixty years. Tie greatest comfort to Ascn Ward 'luring the last years of his life was the relating of events in which he took part in the war ol IHIB. He fought under General Jackson in the battle of Ni w Orleans. Mr. Ward died at Fort Scott, Kansas, r<< v ntly, aged 103. In Delaware county, N. Y., .ived Prudence Larkin, who was never out side the rountry but once. She was !<*> years of age when sin di'-d, but ha/1 been nnxi' us for the change for fifteen years. A son eighty years of ago, a preacher in the South, came to visit his mother just before her decease. Robert Walcot. of Philadelphia, is a centenarian who claims under oath to have fired Ibe fatal bullet that killed Gen. Sir Isaac Brock, the illustrious British commander, who captured Gen < rai Hull's army at Detroit in the war of 1-12, and h i! at the head of his troops in the battli of Huecn-town. November 13 ol t ba' y< nr. The Rev. F'athcr George Brophy, ol Davenport, lowa, was on term# of in timacy with Presidents Tj. i, Polk, li.lin . Buchanan,Pierc. and l.inco.n. He was proficient in the Fr< nob, Spanish, Italian and Eng.isi !angua,< s. lie knew Dan ton, Rotx piem d Marat, central I figures in the reign o! ! rror of 1723 in France, and spoke of thtoi as human ti'nds without parallel in history. He died in October, aged 105 years.' A Woman's Terrible Experience. Mrs. I.u/y A Still, of Sharon's Mi.ls. Pa., has passed through a most thrilling experience. She started from her home in that place to visit a sick son who lived near Darney Swamp, about seven miles trom here. Mrs. Still is sixty years of age. but as spry as a cricket, and she determined to walk the entire dis tance through this dismal swamp to tier son's house, a feat she had frequently | accomplished. She started at about three o'clock in the afternoon, and be fore she got half the distance a violent snow-storm set in. nnd in a short time the road was bidden from sight. Dark t ness. too, soon came, and the old lady straggled trom the road and became fast in a deep mire. The more she struggled the deeper she sank, until at inst. weary from exertion, she gave up ail attempt to extricate herself, and prayed for help. She remained in this mire for a whole I day and night. Then, after almost super human efforts, she extricated herself, nnd made her way to a small hemlock tree, which she climbed. She kept alive by continually moving ber hands and arms. No food paused ber Hps for up wnrd ol 15 hours, except a lew crackers she had in her pocket and aome whisky which she was taking to ber son. She was compelled to quench her thirst by eating snow and drinking the vile water ol the bog by which she was surrounded. She was rescued from ber perilous po sition on the seventh day ol her cap tivity by a party of hunters who had beard her faint cry of distreaa. She was taken to her son's bouse, where her men tal faculties gave way. and a serious ill ness followed. The doctors say she will never regain ber mental powers. While last in the mire Mrs. Still saw several bears and scores of deer, and was at tacked at one time by a panther. She gave terrible screams as the animal ap proached her, and h ran away. A "drop" is a variable quantity, al though many people never think about this fact. The Journal of Chemistry says that the largest drop is formed by syrup ol gum-arabic, forty-lour to the dram, and the smallest by chloroform, 250 to the dram. As a general rule, tinctures, fluid extracts and essential oils yield a drop lee# tban one-half the site ol water, and acids and solutions give a drop hut slightly smaller than water. _______ A man writes to ediantor for ft " be cause he U so terribly short," and gets in reply the heartless response: "Dou I do; stand up on a chair." Longfellow's Home. A correspondent of lthe Nashville Atniriam writes a* follows of a visit to the home of Longfellow: He received m e cordially, nnd invited me immediately into his ntudy, a room of eomfcnlnble dimensions, a Urge table in the center, an old-fashioned hearth will) andirons, and two windows open ing upon the lawn. On either side of the fireplace was a large, comfortable chair, one being that recently presented •o him by the children, made from " the spreading chestnut tree-" There were books to the right, to the left, behind, and in front of me, and the walls were covered wltu pictures. A thousand ob jects, each with its own interesting his tory, crowded the corners of the room, busts ol Shakespeare, Goethe, and Dante. In a small giass box was a i>i' '-e of the t ,flln of the greatest of Itai ion poets; near the door an ex -client crayon drawing of Mr. Ixjwell, and a painting ola scene on the coast of Maine, the work of an artist frieno, Il lustrating the poet's b'nutiful lines: A wir ,! rn,<- up out ol tin- M, Aral r-airl " (J riiists Tnake r<*tui lor roe." i ll irhiier] ite ilii[m bad cried, "Hail on, 1 e mariner s, tin, riigkl i gooa." On the tab.r (,o.< ridge's inkstand, an,•— o| ),i- -yiw and the hols si his mouth, | Hall whistles end hall groan*. 1 here is a marginal note opposite, in J pencil, "To be i-truck out, ti. T. C." , and according to his wish it Las beam omitted in übo jumt t-oitioi. . After showing me these treasun -, we passed into the adjoining room. A piano, a qutw, stood in the center, vrith Mendel- * !• .oijn's "Krmgs Without Words" open upon it, as it some on- had just left the instrurac<