The Aatama Wind maple irrore in rahna of peerlm Ajr , Thn om'rald sweep on eofUr elofang hills; Transparent streamlets swiftly flowing by; Each Inter blootif beside the [4n<nd rilltt— And Nm< dome rounding silently alio* e. Disclose, in measures more than we could link, The perfect inanifeet of heaven's lovo, The new aorounte from Nnture'e golden tank. Gliding tln ■ nigh this unblominhed antumn U^ti There come# n i-oet from the nrctie binds; And though hin form csui never meet our sight, Ills viewless harp, an swept by cunning hands, Now seems to mourn a dirge for summer's death. And now to gayly load the harvest songs; But when the leaflets feel his sudden breath. They flutter down in rainbow - shaded throngs. Oh valiant northern sprite of nutmnn wind ! I love thy music and thy nerviug touch; And when thy monarch, Frost, shall come, and hind Earth's many forms wiUiiti his certain dutch. Then ringing skate and sleigh bells' merry chime, And glad huzzas of urchins just from school, ■Shall tell the regal pleasures of our clime, While ancient winter holds his sturdy rule. —AddiMm f. Itrmvnr. FLORENCE'S WAGES. " Ami so you have really and truly enjoyed this month in the country, Cousin ("live?" " I have, indeed, Florence ; and the only tiling that takus the sting from regret at leaving this dear old place, is the thought that you are to return with me, and that I may try my utmost to make you enjoy the next month as I I have done this." "To introduce inn into society, to oring me out I suppose?" said Flor ence. M Hut don't you think I am rather old for that sort of thing? I have seen twenty. Cousin ('live." "Without one season in New York,*' said he "without one admirer save the clownisii young men of the neightsir liissl, without asingleofTer of marriage, if I mistake not, Floy. It is really , shocking to bury your lieauty for so long in such a remote place as this." "As to offers of marriage, you are wrong," replied the young lady, laugh ing. " I have lieen honored by two— one from .Mr. Sam (Jregory, who, with a great deal of hashfulness and fidget ing about, asked my consent to IK* Mrs. Sam, and the other from the Kev. Westrop I lean, a poor curate who couldn't sound his r's. I didn't accept either." .Mr. ('live Hardinge liftisl his hand with a gesture at disgust, and, shaking his head, replied, dolefully: "Which it will eventually come to, perhaps, if you are not quickly lifted out of this mediocre class inb that higher grade ! of society to which yon are entitled by birth ;uid position. I am very glad you are going to my mother for a little time; for. although there is not, my dear cousin, a more ficrfect lady in all New York than you, yet thn constant companionship of this so-called upper class of the village might in time cause you to forget that your superior birth precluded the |Mssihility of your ever choosing a husband from among tin young men of tin- families you are in the habit of visiting; for it would ill beneem the blood of a Hardinge to mate with one beneath her." The hot bps*! flew up in a torrent to the girl's face as her cousin uttered these words, for she knew that her mother had been so considered to de mean herself, when, two-and-twenty years before, she disobeyed the com mand of a stern parent and u sterner brother, and proudly placed her hand in the strong, warm grasp of a man who had no sin against him hut his poverty, his ;unhitimis day-dreams and his love for her. She remembered how, in this obscure spot, they had eked out his meager pittance; how the glorious productions of art that his glowing im agination had vivified into almost liv. Ing creations had passed away, and left the noble face drawn and sad, and the large, eloquent eyes, that hail fought so bravely for them, a closisl volume of blindness and death. Then the struggle for life, for existence, the long years of suffering and sorrow of her early life, and subsequently the one thousand dollars a year that some un known relative, dying, left them. She had never seen a single member of hT mother's family until n few months tiefore, when (Hive Hardinge, son of that brother who had scaled up his father's heart against his sister all the days of his life, came suddenly upon them in their quiet country home, was struck with the refinement that per vaded the atmosphere in which his aunt and cousin lived, and charmed with the raro grace and fresh beauty of the young girL He hastened to cre ate an amiable understanding between ibis mother and Mrs. Lysle, which, being easily effected, as Mrs. Hardinge en tertained no foaling at resentment against a woman she had never seen. he suddenly fancied that t lie cool, ft-esh breezes of Hillside might have a bene ficial influence on bis town-bred consti tution ; and, therefore, without any circumlocution, he gave a broad hint to that effect. His aunt took the hint and invited him. During his stay*lie and Florence had been a great deal thrown together, and, with a constant interchange of thought and opinions passing between them, grew in a month pretty well to know and appre ciate each other. ('live Hardinge was neither hand-1 some nor young; but he possessed that which our people, and our women es pecially, value more in men than cor rectness of feature, or even youth strength, eourage and manliness. Five ami-thirty years had rolled over his' brown bead, and left the wavy hair' still brown, and the gray eyes un- \ dimmed in the tire of their boyhood. j He consider himself a middlc-ngcd man now; a.id, if any midsummer day-dream ever had tinged with a tran sient brightness the even tenor of his life, it was long since rolled up in the forgotten past. He took an interest in Florence, a deep interest, by reason of tier lieauty, her innocence and Iter un pmtectinn. Maif of the world as he was, thoroughly understanding all the ins and outs of society, he felt tliat his cousin was no common girl—that she was at once adapted to till a higher position than that in which she had yet moved. He tpok this interest to heart, and acted ratlmr vaguely upon it. In the pause that succeedi-d this last remark his keen discernment instantly detected the insult ho had unintention ally offered her, and, with a slight em barrassment in his face, he bent for ward and -aid: " Forgive rno, Floy; do not misunderstand my meaning. I am referring to yourself. You will be en gaged before you leave New York. Mark my words." The flush ditsl out of her face ami a merry sparkle danced in her eves as she said, gayly: " What, in one month! My good cousin, how quickly you arc going to dispose of me! Make no such rash prophecy, thou oracle of evil." "Hut I do," said ('live. "Let me bet you a dozen jsair of gloves that my prediction will come true." "Against what?" -he asked. "Against a kiss." he replied. "Sir, you surprise me J" said Flor ence. " Hut you would lose your let." "If I lose I will pay," said he; "and if you lose you must pay." "Hut I shall not lose. Cousin Clive,'* said Florence. "I am sure that none of the gentlemen to whom you intro duce me will satisfy my fastidious taste." " Wait until you see them, my dear child," said Clive. " You are very un sophisticated. I only fear they will tind too easy ingress to that little un- 1 tritsl heart of yours." She laughed a laugh that had a ring of scorn in it. which made him look up with a puzzled expression, as though he could not quite fathom her, as she left the room. ♦ • • * Mrs. F.arldale's saloons were crowded i with fashion, lieauty and wealth. It ' was her last ball of the season, ami the most brilliant she had given. Among the assembled ladies it was evident that one was the center of attraction. 1 the dazzling star around which the smaller stars*-cased to shine. She was quite surrounded by gentlemen ohtru-1 sivc in their attention and tiresome In their flattery. She seemed to feel it i acutely, as she stood, with heightened color and disdainful lifts, mutely in the midst. She scarcely lifted the curling hishes from the dark hlaek eyes, or gave the least movement to the hair that covered her white shoulders like a golden veil. She was perturbed and distressed, and wanted to get away from them. All the evening she had been herself merry and gay; but her most careless glance had Iss-n met by one almost passionate in Its admira tion, her laughing tones answered by the most fiillsnine flattery, that, angry with herself and them —having aptly learned in three short weeks to heartily despise the hol low mockery of what the world calls pleasure—she now stood this last hour in the tmllrooin in anything but a happy frnme of mind. At last there was a break in the circle, and the low tones of the votaries of fashion ceased for a moment, as a young man of quiet gentlemanly ls-aring made Ids way up to the young lady. " Miss Lvsle," said he, " permit roe to conduct you to the conservatory. Yon were speaking of—" They had passed through the rooms, and she turned to thank him for bringing her away. "But where Is Clive?" she asked "Are we not going home? I am so tired, Willi".'* " Tired of dancing, or of New York j dissipation, Florence-—which?" he 1 asked. I •• Both," *1€ tvjiiird. " I wouldn't live here for worlds, if F am to be draggesl about night after night like this." "Then such a life has no charms for you?" he said. " N'o. indeed," was the reply. " 1 am disappointed in Olive llardinge.. I thought him superior to such frivolity, lie seems to like it." "There you mistake, Floy," said her companion. "It is society that courts him—not he who courts society. As you say, he is superior to it." "Then why does he go into it so much ?" she asked. "He is performing a sort of pen ance," was the reply, "and mixing in gaycty, which lie detests, for the sake of one Lie cares for much, to see if the pure gold of spirituality in her heart will stand the test of the scheming world." She looked up into the clear dark < dive's dearest friend; hut beyond the smile upon her lips, and the slight pressure of her hand upon his arm, the could read nothing. " I am going home in five days," she said, as they pass*si through the rooms. "Are you sorry or glad?" he asked. "I shall he glad to see my mother again," she replied; "hut 1 shall he sorry to leave my aunt, she has been so kind to me—and and Cousin Clive." " He is rather old, di-n'f you think. Floy?—something of the old bachelor aWuit him too old to marry, in fact." "Who—Clive?" she said. "He is not old—is he? 1 never noticed it. His",hair is not gray, and his face is not wrinkled. lie is very handsome is Cousin < live. " Handsome, Flov? You must have put <>n love's spectacles, surely; friend as he is, I could never call him hand some yet." " Don't talk nonsense, Willie," s:iid Florence, pettishly. " I repeat ('live Hardingi* is handsome. lb* has more strength, might and majesty in his countenance than a dozen ordinary men. Hero he come*; now, judge for yourself." If a very weary lo<*k and a pole face denotes! a handsome physique, Clive Harding'* certainly jMisse-ssesl it at that moment, lice-ame* forward to Flor e*nce*. "Would you like* to go now?" he said, kindly; "mv mother is already cloak id and waiting for the- carriage." She quietly took the- profT<-res| arm. and. e-xte-nding ht-r hand tee m Clive'* frie-tiel, bade- him good-night. Miss Lysb- silt at work in he r aunt's morning roeon the- day be-fore- 10-r de parture- beerne-. The* blue* eaahinere* rolie she Wore suited we ll the purity of he*r complexion and the* rich curls eif glittering hair. She looked marvel* eeusly pretty, ami so thought"live* Hnr dinge, as he* male- it his special btisi ne*ss te> visit the* room that meerning. But he-r e-vchishe* Were We-t; she looked as if she- haet bes-n shedding a te-ar or twee, sile*ntly, there- to he-rse-lf; and,per haps, the- seeftne-s*arul tenelernessin he-r face* niaeh* he r nppe-ar meire lewiutiful still, ("live- carries! a king, narrow Nx in his hand, eef blue cnaine-1 ami gilt, anel places 1 it unele-r he-r eye*. " The* lie-t. Florence-," said be. " Had veeu forge>tte-n it? You have ween it quite* fairly, or you w ill have elone so tee-inormw. for there* remains yet one more elay In-fore the uieenth is com pleted. Xeew, will yeui tell me why you have see coldly declined the twei offers of marriage you have lie-en lionoresl with since your stay with us?" " I have not felt myself honored," she repliesl. "One was from a spend thrift and debauchee ; the other from a brainless fop who possessed lint one idea in the world—that of admiring his own figure." " But you have repelled admiration so jiersistently," said ('live; "others who certainly admired you, miglrt have—" " Thank you. Cousin Clive, for the lx't. May I look ?" interrupted Flor ence Lysle, as she put out one baud for the box. "Certainly not, until to-morrow,'• was the reply; " then you may wear home the prettiest pair of glove* the I MIX contains, if you like; nnd when you are gone, perhaps I shall lie able to get hack my rest again and my ap petite*. You have robbed me of both since you have lieen here." "Cousin Clive!" she exclaimed. " I say you have robNsl me of both," repented Clive. " Be-fore I saw you I was able to eat like any other ordinary mortal; hut now the dazzling things at the tat dee nre not thee plate anel crys tal. but a pair of snowy hands that keep moving up and down, and mes merize my black e*ye* to look at them. Be fore you came, I could sleep soundly enough at night, and wake refreshed in the morning; but now my dreains are wild and feverish, of liewilderlng eyes and glittering gulden hair, nnd one ethereal form that coition between me and slumber." - life ■ - _ FJLJ T*• J " Please don't, Clive," said Florence* i "But 1 will," said he. "Oh, you | shall fairly win your bet, my little Floy, I am a cross old bachelor, cousin; hut for all that, I mean to tell you that I love you with all my Herat and soul." Her head dropped down suddenly, and the long hair fell over hot cheeks, and her hands trembled and clasped themselves together on her lap. There was a painful pause*; and when Florence dared to lift her eyes she saw ('live Hardinge's face hurled in his folded arms, cjulet arjd still. She rose hesitatingly, and then went up to him, placed one soft hand on his hair, while with the other site* ex tended the unopened box. " 1 don't want your gloves, Cousin ("live," she said. "Why not?" lie asked, with white lips. " Because I have lost my bet," she replied, turning away her shy face. " Florence—iny darling Floy, have 1 won it?" he exclaimed, rapturously, starting up and catching her hand. " Vcs, and me, too," she murmured, as she lifted her blushing face to his, ami his arms closed around her in a tight embrace. Hugs. When an American buyer arrives in the heart of the rug-making country in Asia he selects the Iswt agent he can find and gives him an order for, say, Psi rugs, ~f almut th<* colors and sizes of certain samples which he may find in the bazaars. The Turkish agent tle-ii employs natives of the villages where the kind of rugs selected are wanted, giving to each a hag of gold and instructions to {order four rugs. The subagent then gee* among tin* families and talks rugs with them, drinking many cups of coffee and dis cussing the price for days at a time. When a bargain is conclude! some money is furnished the family for wool, dyes and feed, and the agent goes away -nr that in the course of a few months the rug will he ready. Up*-n a carpet measuring eight fist by twelve a whole family will work for months. The cotton or woolen threads which form the groundwork or warp of the fabric are stretched upon a huge frame the width of the rug, and the family, or such memlicrs of it as are able, sit on the floor and tie knots in the warp threads with the colored wool tufts, tightening the finished fabric now and then with a rough comb. Kah worker take* about twenty seven inches of the rug and works along this strip. From two to four inches a day is the speed at which the rug advance* if the family is large enough for the whole width of the rug to advance at the same time. A rug eight or nine feet wide requires four persons, who work side by side. The finishing of the rug, smoothing, clipping, etc., is a work requiring skill and judgment. The wages are very small and the payment is according to the number of square feet. The work ers know certain patterns by heart and dve their own wools. The old dyes have in some instances ls*n suje pbtnted by aniline colors, which do not keep their tones, and fade without giv. ing to the rug the softness of tint which is the chief glory of a fine Eastern rng. Si many merchants have refusal to buy the caqiets in which aniline dyes have been u*id that the use of them may eventually Is* stopped. The rug-makers as a class are poor in money, very ignorant and very re ligious, hut live comfortably. Espe cially around the borders of the'C as pi an sea, in the country watered by the riv ers from the Caucasian mountains, are the people in comfortable circum stances, although alsuit three centuries behind the resit of the world. The rugs and carpets are brought in from Persia ami the neighboring districts on camels' backs, the arrival of camel trains l>eing one of the curious sights of the town. A Helpful "01" An eminent clergyman sat in his study, busily engaged in preparing his .Sunday sermon, when his little Iwy toddled Into the room and, holding up his finger, said, with an expression of suffering: " Look, pa, how I hurt P!" The father, Interrupted in th * middle of a sentence, glanced hastily at hiin, and with just the slightest tone of Im patience, said: " I can't help it, son.'* The little fellow's eyes grew bigger, and as he turned to go out, he said, in a low voice: " Yes you oould; you might have said, ' 0/ " " Didn't von tell me, sir, you could hold the plow ?*' said a farmer to an Irishman he hail taken on trial. " Ar rah. IH< aisy now," saldi Pat; " how the deuce can I hold 1A and two horses drawing H away from we? But give it to me into the barn and bo jabcrs | I'd tumid It with anybody." I'IIK FAMILY DOCTOR. VIWKOAB KOII TUB RICK BOOM. — There is a French legend connected with the preparation colled vinaigre a guaire voleurs. 'During the plague at Marseilles a band of robbers plundered - the dying and the dead without injury to themselves. They were imprisoned, tried and condemned to die, but were panloni-don condition of disclosing the secret whereby they could ransack houses Infected with the terrible i scourge. They gave the following re '■ cipe, which makes a delicious and re freshing wash for the sick room: Take of rosemary, wormwood, lavender, rue, sage and mint u large handful of each. Place in a stone jar, and turn over it one gallon of strong eider vinegar; cover closely, and keep m ar the fin-for four days; then strain, and add one ounce of powdered camphor gum. Bottle and keep tightly corked. It is very aromatic, cooling and refreshing in the su k room, and i* of great value to nurses.— N<>r Y<,rk Tribrme. lii nss.—Protect from the air by cotton wadding or lint -aturatnl with olive oil, linseed oil or glycerim*, con taining five <lr<>ps of earlsdic acid to the ounce of oil or glycerine*; or apply : common baking soda, well pow-bred, and cover it with a wet cloth; or apply a mixture of equal parts of linked oil and liine water, with twenty drops >f pure liqu''ti<*d carbolic aid.— In. F<*i\+'n ll'nlth Muuthhj. Mi i>i< Ai. I -i -or LIMB WATMI.—- If g*>ol milk <li.igre<-s with a child or grown p< r- on, lime water at the rate of three or four tabb-spoonful* to the pint, mixed wit It the milk, <r talon after it. will usually help digestion and prevent llatulenec. Lime water is a simple ant-u id. and i* a little tonic- Pure lime water, even though pretty closely corked, soon <b*t re-rate-* by ur l.ni<* acid in the air. wbi< h unites with the lime and settles as an insoluble! rarlstnate. To have it always ready and good, and at no cost, jmt into a tall pint -r quart glass Nettle of any kitel a gill **r so of good lime just slaked with wider. Then fill tie Nit tb* nearly full of rain <>r other puro water, and h*t it statel qui* tly. corking well. The lime will settle, leaving char line* water at the top. I'our **lT gently a* want*l, adding more water as needed. Sine* carbonic acid will enter, hut the carbonate will settlo upon the sid<*s of tie* Nettle, and freshly saturated water remain. The lime should be removed and a new supply put in once a year *>r so, unless kept very tightly corked. Mew Wheat IMstrlrts. According to the F<trm'r, an exten sive wheat-gr>>wing ilistrict is about to lie opened up in India. The pajeer says: The India office is lending its .sanction just now to an enormous scheme f*>r the reclamation of the waste lands of the Punjaub. The waters of the five rivers which give the name to that region flow* wastcfully away to the sea, leaving a large tract of desert land, some of which was once fertile, to lie the home ,of nothing and noNidy. Those same rivers arc sufficient to make that same desert blossom as a r<se. The work of cutting canals which would afford means With lor navigation and irriga tion would N> enormous; but so far is it thought feasible that the India office has undertaken to use the canals, jeaying tolls for its transit, and to buy the irrigation water, undertaking on its own account to col lect the water rent from the natives- Engineering experts declare that the special work can easily l>e done, and reports have lieen made to the India office which show that the land to lc reclaimed ha* soil so rich in alluvial deposits from the Himalayas that we , may reasonably anticipate tlw time wb<n a great region now suffering only from want of water will become | the great wheat-bearing territo. y of j India Some portions of the great I doab which it is proposed to reclaim—a ! doab of 50,000 square miles In extent —have undoubtedly l>oen Ixeth inhab ited and highly fertile in their day. In some pla<*es the canal is almost male, the unused IKS I of diverted rivers ly ing ready to be again filled with the life-giving stream; so that the earlier portion of the great work will be com paratively e*y. But whether easy or hard the reclamat ion of 50,000 square miles of land In an over-populated country, the Irrigation of a tract so enormous in a country visited by fam ine, is atasktheinagnifleeneeof which, from an engineering and from a politi cal point of view, almost overweight* the imagination. The only woman In the Vermont State prison is Mrs. Meeker, the mur deress; and as she is to le hung next April she knows of no inducement to ' behave herself, yells hideously-at night and is so savage aud Intractable that j she Is kot locked In a sottttr cclL The Illot. 1 From Jersey to Mauluittan shore. Aero** the Hudson'* pulsing tide, 'l"be I'ilot, skilled in nautic lore, devolve* hi" wheel from "><l to side. j In "ilent ways be wui* lu* hay*, i Hi* mold i "trong. hi* face i* dun, Bronzed by the kiting, amorous ray* Blown from the nostril" of the "tin. When Night's brown hand uiieoila her hair, And spread* it o'er the water* blue, The pilot'* eye "he fire* with rare, And bind* hi* breaat to dnty true. The lazy tog i* dim!) -tarrd . Willi ball* of red and blue and green, And screaming whi*tle* -tartling guard A [rntmatr felt, but all unseen. All groping through the rnu*king mi*t, The (UtfimlKiata MCH.". like |.re-ing "in, Ajid cling to soul* that wont<#W^|*t < )n day, one hour of life to wfnlX^ The life that fill* the pilot'* hand lU[ond to heart* with baled breath, While faith aw-end* to hi* command, And doff* it* phantom raiment, death. Hwjh f'urrar Jfr/xrmof'. ITNtiENT IWItAI.KAI'HS, The gil<h*l youth of the present gen eration ia generally lined with brass. Ono of the lie i t aggravating of Wes.is a spiral stud on a close-fitting shirt bosom. .Man proposes and woman diagnoses. More particularly so if it's a plate of vanilla < ream. Tears are merely a leakage of the eyes. Onions, when young, are a Species of leek. " This is an early fall," as the man said when he dropped on the 5 o'clock banana p■< I. The artist who painted "the perfect picture of despair" was the first man to draw a long face. Many a man is not satisfied to live on the face of the cartb. He tries to live on his own face. A young man at Chester, Pa., got ( in.nl and fled to part* nnkn <wn because , his girl would not pay f. r his wedding suit. Such . stingy girl does not de , serve a litlsls'ind. K<- inomv is certainly an excellent . thing, but it has never succeeded in i making cornel lxsf and lsiiled cab ■ bagc taste quite so g.**l as tenderloin . steak and mushrooms. " I)o you own this fence?" savagely ■ inquired a farm< r <>f a tramp who was ! hanging over the structure. " Xu, 1 i don't own It," grinned the nomad, •but I've got a lean on it." " I like your new hat very much." lie said; "it's 'chic,' there's a sort of ' abandon'—" " There Isn't any sort of a band on it," she said, pout* ing, "it's a real ostrich feather." Says Josh Hilling*: When a man kumsto me for advice, I find out what kind of advice he wants, and I give it t<> hiin; this satisfy.* him that he and 1 are two-as smart men az there is J > living. | Ah Yu Sing, the secretary of the Chinese legation, ha* thirteen sons aad eleven servants. If lie werean Ameri can with so many children and ser-' 1 vants he would at once change his name to Ah Yu Sigh. The retort courteous: He (after proposing and being rejected)—"l sujqxise in the end you w ill Ik> marry ing some fool of a fellow—" She (breaking in) —"Excuse me, if I meant to do that I should have ac cepted your offer." [SilenceJ. A fashion item says the Wile of the period now wears at her wai*t-!>elt a little music-lmx, faintly playing a single tune. We suppose this is to enable the gentleman to explain to anylwdy who comes along unexpect : wily that he was winding the box. !j "Pray," said Mr. to a gentle man he overtook on the road, " will you have the complaisance to take my great coat in your carriage to town ?" | " With great pleasure, my dear sir; but how will you get it again?" " Ohl very easily," replied the modest appli cant, " I shall stay in it." koskt sail Momrr. 1 lore you, love, for good or ill, A* blown bees love sweet honey— I love yon, love, soul, heart end will. For sober nkiee or nanny. And yei 1 j<au*e I falter milt, ForOl one doubt; one fear doth thrill My (Uriitit. my darling. My darling have yon money ? My darling, my darling, My darting have you money? I love yon, lore, I love yon. lore. But O yon mast have money— A red rose is a raw. my love, B" 1 if It hold not honey. The busy be*, he will not May, But humming aim he hie* away. My darling, my darling. My darting have yoo money? I —JtHUfmim Miller. I haw the weather change with the 1 moon? Bir William Thompson tells ' 'the British Science Association that there is no connection between the two things, as far as he can discover, and he has studied them. Hale county, Ala, is looking out for jher m<*yju(UtrT, and is gathering % ttaa f 1 • ta
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers