Now I Lay Ma Down to Sloop.
i In thf qnlft mtrtfry rh*mt">r
™ t*Uo v pillow* Vrl LH|>t SHNKKI .
?••* thr form* ol liitlr cliiMrnn
JK Knf*lliR, wbitw-roliMl. for thf If i ;
mL All in quiet ritirwrjr h*mler*,
WhIU the <lukv ali*il%ra creep,
Hf*r the vole** of the childret)
. "Now I ley me down to ele*|> "
In thf meadow* end the mountain*
Celmly *hlae the winter atari,
And erroee the (llnteiiing low lend*
hUntethe oiooiilM>ent eilver Uer
In the eileiic* end the derkneee,
herkneea growing wtf II more deep,
LUten to the little children—
Praying (lod their *oul* to keep.
"lf we die"~eo prey the children,
And the mother'* heed drop* low
(One ftvni out her fold I* sleeping
Deep hvneeth the winter* atiow,)
* Tekeour notiU" end peat the ententent
e Hit* a gl Nin of crvytnl light,
P I.lke the treiling of lili garment*,
IVeiklug evet uiure in white.
Little *>ul* tliet tend expei-tant.
Ltatenlng et the getea of life .
(leering fer ewey the murmur
Of the tumult eud the atrlfe ,
We wh>> fight heneeth thoee banner*,
Meeting renka of foemen there,
Find e deeper, bm*dr meaning
lu your *imjle % caper prayer,
M hanliahall graap thia tlaudwnl
Mhlch to-day yu wteh from far.
a ' n y° lir deed* ahall ah.i|w the conflict
In thia uni\erarti war.
"Jfto HI o>, the Clod of Uttlea.
w I tiuae atrong eye can never sleep,
In the warring of temptation,
t tfui and true your oul to keep.
Hheli (he e -aUt end*, and *lwly
( lean the am >ke from out the akiea,
A hen far down the purple distance
All the uolao of battle die*
When the iaet night'* aolerun ahad"**
t*ettlr down on you and roe,
M *y the |oy# thtt never fat let h
lake our souls rnternally.
JOSEPH'S" CHRISTMAS.
I It was very strange, thought ohl Jos
eph Holding, that he couldn't be master
hf his own mind. He had lived a great
inany years, and neither remorse nor J
memory had ever been in the habit of
disturbing him: hut now it seemed to
him as if the very foundations of his
life were breaking up. He was well
through with his day's work—he had
dined comfortably—lie sat in an easy
chair in a luxurious drawing room
whose crimson hangings shut out the
still cold of the I>ecemler afternoon—
he had nothing to do but to enjoy him
self. Mr. Holding liked to enjoy him
self at this season a* much as others did,
for it was Christmas Eve. What though
he was in the habit of spending it -<oli
tarily ?—lie liked solitude.
For many a year on Christmas Eve he
had sat balancing in his mind the great
accounts presented in his ledger, the ac
cumulating coffers at his banker's, the
strokes of business he would make in
Not so n.>w. The year was
orawingtoa close ; some intruding voice
kept whispering that in like manner so
was his career. lie could not put it
from him, try as he would. The voice
| reminded him of a coming time when
his life's work would he all done—even
as his day's work wis done now—when
he would be ready to sit down in the |
evening and look ovet the balance-sheet !
of his deeds, good and evil. Curiously j
the old days came trooping in slow pro '
cession before him. And he had been
able to forget them for so "very long!
His dead wife. He had not loved her
much when she was with him, but bow !
vivid was his memory of her now ! He }
see her moving round the house,
Inojs.-less ns a shadow, never intruding
■ htm att.-r h(
her gruffly, hut going on her
flp*rn meek, still ways, with her face
Jf growing whiter every day. Me began to
I understand, as he looked back, why her
Strength had failed ; and she had been
ready, when her baby came, to float out
on the tide and let it drift her into
Hod * haven. She had had enough to
eat and drink, hut he saw now that he
had left her heart to starve. Heavens .
what a hard man he had been ! He
seemed to see her white, still fare, as h
looked at it the lost time, with the dumb
reprotch frozen on it; the eyes that
would never plead vainly any more,
closed for ever.
He recalled how passionately the
three day* obi baby had cried in another
room just at that moment, moving all
the people gathered together for the
j funeral with a thrill of pity for she poor
j little motherless morsel. She i cat a pas
| fionate, willTul baby, nil thtougb her
OHp>y-bood; he remembered that. She
R^anted —missed without knowing what
lack was—the love and instenanc*
her mother would have given her
■ and protested against fate with all the
I might of her infant lungs. Hut as soon
/ as she grew obi enough to understand
* how useless it was, the had grown quiet
too; just like her mother. He recalled
her all through her girlhood, a shy, still
girl, always obedient and submissive,
but never drawing very noar him. Why?
Because he would have repulsed her as
he repulsed her mother. He could aee
it now. It waa very strange these facta
should come back to him to day, and
their naked truth with them. He had
been a cold, hard, ungenial man. with
out sympathy for any one human being:
j absorbed utterly io the pursuit of money
And so the child, Amy, had
vn up without him.
Y * tut toddenly, when she waa eighteen,
F the old, passionate spirit that had marie
L her cry so when a baby must have awak.
W ened again, he thought; for she fell in
I love then, and wisher! to marry. To
in defiance of his wishes. He re
membered her standing proudly bVcep
IjAini after one of their quarrels, where
1 ' been harsh and bitter, and abus
ivo of the man she wunted to call hus
band. She lmd borne in silence reproach
of herself, but not of him who had be
come to her as her beat existence. Her
words came back to the old man now.
•'Father, do you know anything
against Harry Church?"
•'Yes," lie had answered, wratlifully ;
•'1 know that he is a poor mnn, and
that he cannot keep a wife as a daughter
of mine must be kept."
"Anything else, father ?" looking him
steadily in the eyo.
"No, that's enough," lie had thunder
ed. "I'll tell you, besides, that if you
marry hiin my doors will never open to
you again, never."
He met with a will as strong as his
own. that time. She did marry him, and
went away with him from her father's
house. Mr. Holding lisd known the day
the wedding was to take place, and din
d.lined to stop it. He washed his hands
of Harry Church, and of Amy, his wife,
She wrote home afterwards, over and
over again, but Mr. Holding sent all the
letters hack unopened. Subsequent to
that, they disappeared from town ; and
he had never heard what became of
them. It was at least ten years ago
uow.
It seemed very strange that these
things should have come back to-night
to haunt him—and with a wild remorse,
a pitying regret. He had done nothing
to recall them. Could it lie his sense of
failing health that brought them?—if so
i whnt sort of anguish might he not look
for as he drew nearer aud nearer to the
ending? He began to wish tbut he knew
what had been in those rejected letters
—whether Amy had beenjutfering for
anything that money could supply. The
next thought that struck him was, why
he had opjroaed the marriage so viru
lently. It is true Harry Church had
been but a clerk in his own employ; but 1
he w:i- a well-educated gentleman, and
would ri-e with time. Faithful, int- lli
gent, persevering, respected—but pocr-
In that last word lay the bend and front
of Harry Church's offending. Il, Jos
eph Holding, was rich then : he was fur
richer now ; but he could not help ask
ing it, what special good were his riches
bringing him? He was an old man, tb
span of li r e running quickly on. and he
was all alone. Who would take his gol-i
then He could not carry it along with
lorn. All in u moment—he saw it clearly
—the dreadful truth 'tood naked an I
bare: hi- life and its object lisd been
mistaken ones.
"All alone! all alone !" be kept say
j ing to himself, in a sort of vague self
pity. "I've toiled anil worked for noth
...
j ln £-
Itiit during this time, even now, as he
; -at there, a menage of love was on its
way to him. Perhaps Heaven bad but
been preparing his heart lo receive it.
He heard a ring at the door-bell.
: Heard it without paying attention to it.
1 flings were nothing to hint; people did
\ not come on business to his residence,
I and of visitor* he expected none.
I Down went his head lower and lower
with its weight of thought.
Meanwhile two people were admitted
into the hall below ; a man and a little
girl. The roan took oil' the child's
warm cloak and hood, and she stood re
vealed: a dainty, delicate creature of
some eight years old ; her golden curl"
drooping softly round her face, with its
large blue eyes and it* cherry lips. The
servant who ndrni toil them, not know
ing what to make of this, culled Mr.
Holding's housekeeper, old Mrs. Osgood.
The latter went into a tremor as she
came forward and look at the face.
"It's Miss Amy's child!" she exclaim
ed to the man. nervously. "| couldn't j
mistake the likeness."
"Miss Amy's that Was," he answered.
' Mrs. Harry Church she has been this
many a year."
"I know. It's as much a* my place is
worth to admit any child of hers."
"You are Mrs. Osgood," exclaimed the
little girl. "Mamma said I should fie
sure to see you."
"Hear the blessed lamb! And so she
remembers me,"
".*<he talk* of you often : she says you
were always kind to her; nobody but
you loved her."
"Well, I did love her. The old house ,
has never been the same sinee she went
out of it. What's your name, my pretty !
one?"
"Amy,"
"Amy!" repeated the housekeeper,
lifting up her hands, as if there were
some wonder in it.
"And mamma said you would let me ,
go up alone to grandpapa."
j "And so you that/," decided Mrs. <>•
gcod, after a minute's hesitation. "I
won't stand In the way of it, let master
lie a* angry with me aa he will. He is
up in the drawing room, all by himself."
The man sat down to wait. And the
child went tip alone.
<tpening the door, she went softly in,
not speaking, perhaps the stern look
ing old man, sitting there with bent
bead, awed her to silence. Joseph Hold
ing, waking up from his deep reverie,
saw n letter held out to bits. He took
it mechanically, supposing its messen
ger, hidden behind his large chair, wa
a I
one "of his servants. With a singular
quickening of pulse, he recognized his
daughter's writing.
She had waited all these silent years,
she told him, being determined
: never to write to him again until they
were rich enough for him to know that
she did not write from any need of hi*
1 help. They hud passed ten years in the
Wed, and Heaven had prospered them.
Her husband was a rich mun now, and
i she wanted from her father only his love
—wanted only, that death should not
come between them, and either of them
1 go to her mother's side without having
1 been reconciled to tbe other.
"How did this come hero?—who
' brought it?" demanded Mr. Holding,
' in his usual imperious manner,
1 "I did, graudpupa."
He sprang up ai the soft, timid voice*
us if some fright took liirn, and stared
at the lovely vision, standing there like
a .spirit on his hearthstone, with her
white face and her gleaming golden
hair. Was it real ? Where was he ?
Who could the child be? Itut, as he
looked, the likeness flashed upon liiui
—and he grew hungry to clasp her to
him. It was the little Amy of the old
day* grown into beauty—for Amy bad
never been so wondrously fsir a* this.
"Come here, my child ; don't be afraid.
Tell me what your name is?"
"Amy, grandpapa."
Another Amy! Hrandpapa! He fell
the sob* rising up in hi* heart with u
great flood of emotion ; but he choked
them back.
"What have they told you about
m?" he rejoined, after a long pause.
"Have they bid you bate me?"
"They always told me that ynu were
far away toward where the sun rose;
and if 1 were good they would bring me
to see you some day. Fivery night I say
in my prayers, 'Hod bless papa and
mamma, and Hod bless grandpapa."
"Why didn't they bring you? What
made tbem let you come alone?"
"Mamma sent me with John to give
you the letter." was the simple answer.
"The carriage is at the gate waiting for
me."
"Who is John ?"
"Papa's servant."
"And—where are they staying?"
"At the hotel, We only got here this
, rn wning."
Mrs. Osgood, hovering in the hall,
looked on in wonder. Her master was
coming down stairs, calling for his hat
and coat, and leading the child. He
got into the enrrisgewith her ami it
drove away. Mr. Holding was wonder
ing vaguely whether it ws real.
They arrived at last, and the child led
him in, opening a door at the end of n
long corridor. She spoke rheeringly.
"Murnma, here's grandpapa. He said
lie would cotne back with me."
Mr. Holding's head went off in a sn in
Advancing wkue.< tells upon peopl
in such moments as tbe*<. He sat ■'<•*!
and there were Amy'i arm* In* <-•:■
Amy'S —BISIUI hi* neck. Which oi il
two sobbed the most. cu!d not be to i.
Why had he never known nat be < -i
through all those vanished y e<r ?
•'F'ather, are we reconciled at Ut ? '
"I don't know, ny daughter, unto
you tell me it you forgite inc."
"There should be no talk about for
giveness," she said. "You went < ,< id
ing to your own opinion of what was
right. And perhaps I IK to blame, too
Father, it Is enough th it Hod ha
brought us together again in peace. I
thought that no ens could re't niy
little Amy, least of *ll, her giandpapa."
He looked up. The child stood by,
I silently; the firelight glittering on her
golden hair, her face shining strangely
sweet. He put out his arms and drew
her into them, close—where no child,
not even his own, bad ever nestled be
fore. Oh how much he had mia>ed in
life)—he knew i'.now. He felt herding,
ing hold round his neck—her kisses
dropped upon hi* fare like the pitying
dew from heaven ; and he—was it him
self, or another in hi* place ?
"F'ather, see,"
Amy's voice had a full, cheerful ring
in it. Her married life bad been happy.
Mr. Holding turned at the c til.
"Here are Harry and the boys waiting
to speak to you," she said, in a less as
' sured tone.
He shook bis son-in law's hand heart
ily. Old feuds, old thing*, were over
now, and all was become new. In hi*
heart, he bad always liked Harry Church
jThen he looked at the two boys, bravei
j merry little fellows, of whom he might
proud.
Explanations ensued. F'ortune had
hrorod Mr. Church ; they bad come
back for good, and were already looktog
out for a house.
"No house but mine," interrupted
Joaeph Holding. "It will want a tenant
, when lam gone. You must come home
to morrow,"
"To morrow will be Christmas Day,"
said bis daughter, doubtingly.
"All tbe better. If Christmas waa
never kept in my house, it ahall be now.
I ahall not iiva to see another, Amy."
Hhe looked up at the changed, thin
(see, and cmld not contradict bim
i
Some one, going to th e Western home
hud told thein hw Jossp h Holding was
breaking ; tho new* had caued them
to return prematurely. Amy said to
her husband that if her father died,
unrecouoilcd totfc.-r, she should be full
of remorse forever.
"You will come home to morrow, all
of you, ' repeated Mr. (ioldiug. "And
mind, Amy, you do not go awny again."
"But—if the children should be too
much for you, father!"
"When they are, I'll tell you, he
said, with a touch of the former giufl
ness. "1 he old house is large enough,"
Ife went out and found his way to the
shops-—open to the last on Christmas
Eve—looking for Christmas gift*. New
work for him!—but he entered into it
earnestly. Perambulating the streei*
like a bewildered Santa Claus, he went
home laden with books and toys, and
jewel*, and bonbons. Mr*. Osgood lifted
her hand*, and thought the end of the
world must be coming.
"Help me to put these things away,
Mrs. Osgood. Don't stare as if you were
moonstruck. And look here—there'll
be company to dinner to morrow. Mind
I you send in a good one."
I "The best that ever was seen on a
table, —if it's for them 1 think it is for."
"Well,ills. Miss Amy'* coming home
again."
"Heaven be praised, sir! The bouse
[ has been a dull one since she left it."
i "They are all coming. And they wil)
I not go away again, Sir*. Osgood. If you
want more servants, you can get them."
"It's the best Christmas greeting you
could have given me, master."
And they came. Amy anil Amy's
husband and the pretty boy* were there;
I and, best ol all, the sweet little girl
1 j with the golden hair, sitting next to
j gtandpapa. It was too happy a party
i for loud mirth. And among tbem -Joseph
Holding saw, or fancied be saw, anuth/r
! face, over which, almost thirty years
J ago, be bad watched the grave so-i piled
■ ! —a lace sad and wistful no longer, but
bright with a strange glory. Close ly
him she seemed to stand ; and be be.ird,
or fancied that be heard, a whisper from
j her parted lips, though it might bare
j come only from his own hesrt:
t"ss<* oc tsrh •1,4,-1 (ill m
-
Six Inchon of String.
I ss iNvaxrios TO troutw MUI.II mo*.
TWO roari'Nxs.
"You see that large factory ? It cov
er- the entire Mock. Half a million of
money would't buy it. Well, it was
built by a little piece of cord not more
than six inches long." H*ro the
•}>eaker | aused and scrutinized the
reporter's countenance for indications
i! incredibility, no t to astonishment
But the narrator was ta king to a man.
*ho, since the introduction of the tele
phone, h*s ma )•> it * point of principle
r. ~|v tor anything and to below.-
that he 1,, ir The s|ieaker added .
ght year* ago there lived on the j
••*• side, m tli- third story of a cheap j
tenement, down i.i-sr the North river,
* poor tnach inir. who was kept poor be.
cause he bad a passion for inventing ; it
amounted to a | asoion. He didn't drink
and didn't travel with the politicians;
and all who knev hi* family wondered j
why they *hould he so poor. But at i
la<i ho perfected an invention—the 1
simplest thing on earth and with hi*!
patent in bi* hand he went down town :
One day, at, I called for the head of a j
house whose check WAS current for Ave
fig ires anywhere in 'the stieet,' The
inventor ottered to sell two thirds of hi*
patent foiffSO.OOO it the house would
bind itself to put $lOO,OOO into factories
for producing the liu). thing that he
had invented. The firm signed papers
in less than an hour from the time of
hearing the proposal, and in another. '
hour the inventor had converted the|
firm'scheck for $20,000 into greenbacks, i
I/.U were bought sod s factory was
erected. The business speedily grew to
gigantic proportions and at length the !
firm acquired all the rest of the block
and covered it with brick and mortar, j
and now the inventor is sble to aaso- j
date with the millionaires. The little
glove fastener a piece ol cord about six
inches long and a dosen little metal
hooks or buttons—is the thing that
was invented."
Th.it poor bedridden, invalid wife, si*ter,
mother, or daughter, can be made the
iiictnre of health by a few bottles of
Hop Rittcr*. Will you let (hem imferf
when so easily cured!
—Four cabinets for less money than four
card sizes would cost elsewhere, at Buyer's,
Rlshop street.
—Winter stock must go. Special
bargains at I-ewin's.
A DAWUKROUS CorxTsnrsiT.—There
ero dangerous counterfeit* in circulation
purporting to be "Walnut Leaf Hair Re*
slorer." The strongest evidence of its
great value Is the fact that parties know-
Ing It* greet efficacy try to imitate it.
Kaoh bottle of the genuine has a fmt timite
of a walnut leaf—blown In the glass; and
a Green Leaf on tho outside wrapper. The
"Restorer" Is as harmless as water, while
it possesses all the properties necessary to
restore life, vigor, growth and color to the
'' Purchase only from re*ji*iile par.
tie*. Ask your druggist for d, Each bot
tle is warranted. Johnston, Hollo war A
Co., Philadelphia, and Hall A Ruckd,
New York, Wholesale Agent* 4 i,
~1 ~~ "
" EXCELSIOF. M'F'O CO.
• J
Circat Closing Out Male
or
;! 2
* i
, AT ASP HF.1.0 W COS T TH K ESTHIE STOCK MIST HE SOLE HE
I , OA It PI, ESS OF COST T<) (/FIT HCSISFSS.
Big Bargains in Suits I
I "It MFSFHOM $!) VI I ''"'An PS HU r.v ASP VOCTIIS SPITS AEMOSj
HIVES AWAY. CHILDHES'S CLOTH ISO WAY DOtt'S.
OVERCOATS
FROM %55.00 CPU'A HPS. ALL WOOL MESS PASTS FtlO M to rj , ....
" ARM ' Tma ™DmA%!u!s'o"Slrf w,,r/^/ '''
TAKE NOTICE,
t\t \\!V' ! D purchoei at our Ktorejvill be entitled t,. a
GUAM h IK KI.I to win either of th.- two hanl-.me GIFTS to I*,
drawn by the lucky numbers which ONE AND ALL have the .an..-
chance to ptji-wn*.
Ist. Prize.
~ ° ne poplar woocl, beautifully finished; Double
Enclosed \Yash .Stand; Teapoy Table; one beautiful French Dre~ .
German Plate Gla* 17x30; three fane Seat Chairs; one Cane S,-,r
I too king < hair ; one Towel Hack. fTop of Dresser, Wash Fund Ten
| poy Siaud, imitation Tennessee -Marble.)
2<l Prize.
One beautiful lirxmel* covered Walnut Frame Lounge.
KEYSTONE CLOTHING HOUSE,
Siyn tied Flay. BtlUfunU, Be.
SECII LF.lt ,1' CO., Grocer*, Iliimh lie,time Work, Belief ante, Fa.
NEW GOODS
FOR THE
SPRING mill SUMMER TRADE!!
We have endeavored to get the very bc*t of every thing in our line, and now
have some really CHOICE GOODS.
FIXE CUE A M CHEESE , Extra Larue FRENCH PHI MX
SELECT OYSTERS, SWEET POTATOES,
j LARGE RIFE CRAXRERRIES, FRVXELLES. IMPERIAL EI OS.
BRIGHT XEW LEMOXS, FLORIDA ORANGES,
Princess Paper-Shell Almonds. Evaporated DRIED PEAt II EN
A FULL LINE OF CHOICE CANNED FRUITS.
PRESERVED PEARS, PEACHES, PI.VMS and PRVXELI.ES.
PLAIN CANDIES, FINE CONFECTIONERY,
—AND—
GOODIES of all Sorts and Kinds
tarWe invite the people of Centre county to call and inspect our NICE
GOODS, which cannot fail to please.
uf HECHLER & CO.
Doll ,f Mintrie-- Ih.ftt* ,f ! hue*
; TDIB A H-DDD
Boot or Shoe
THY
—I&QMk 4
FOR
Style, Quality and Cheapness.
We defy all competition. We hate the largest stock—and bought for cash
and sell 10 per cent, cheaper than any store in the county.
W* OUR SPECIALTIES.
REYNOLDS BROIL, Utica and D. ARMSTRONG'S Rochester shoes for
Indies, Misses and Children.
II at bn way Soul© and Harringtons Fine Shoes for Men.
LIEISITIEIRI IBIOIOITIS,
THE KINO OK THE MARKET.
We have a Shoe Polish which will not crack the Leathe
as trood as the best and only 15c,
DOLL A MINGLE.
Bcllefonte, Pa.