111
'~
s. W. AL4ORD, Publisher.
VOLUME XXXvni.
Business Cards.
w. J. YOUNG, .
. ATTOR•SE T LAW,
TOWANDA, PA;-
Oftleo--Reiond door south of the Fi rs t National
Lank Main St., tti, Malts.
0 D. KINNEY,
•
A TToRNEF-AT-LAW.
(Mire—Rooms formerly oeeupledby M. A
I:,ading Ejan.atim.
WILLIAMS 4t,
A ?TOR:COT:4 . T-L Ali.:
oF PIC E,—Formerly occupied by Wm. Watkins,
Et ,
11. S . WILLIA.II4. (0e(.17,17) •E. J.
McI'HERSON,
I.
ATTORNEY AND COCNSELLOR•AT-LAW,
TOWANDA,
.PA
plx't Atry Ern.4:C9
3P SON & HEAD,
ATTORNEYS-dr-LAW
Towauda,ra. Orrice over Bartlett & Tracy, Maln-et
lEEE
F.MAsox
r 4 L. lII . LL,IS, , „ .
..
Lb. R
ATToNty-AT-LAW. -
4 TOWANDA, pm.
office with Sigith Watontanye.' thovii-75
-
F. GOFF,
I_4* •
ATT ORNE Y-A L N•
aln Strretd(4doors north of Ward {tone), Vo
randa, l'n. . {April 12, 1877.
VHIL TOMPSON, ATTORNEY
, • AT LA w, W Y A LI: IV SI NG. PA. 111 attend
‘
to all business entrusted to his care In Bradford,
tuiltran and WI - wiling Counties. Oftiej,- with Esq:
eorter„ ' Vuovlo-74.
EMEill
Ili
ATTOKNEY-AT-LAW,
TOWANDA, PA
itteill
L. 1,,AM8,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,
Vitt..Kr.s-lt.outr., PA.
olloctlons promptly attentletl to.
JOHN W. MIX,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
• ANIS
IL S. COMMI,SSIONER,
, TOWANDA, çA.
Offlee-1 4 1011a Side Public Square. •
Jan. 1418.5
DAVIES R. CARNOCIIAN,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
SOUTH SI PE OF WAS 4) HOUSE.
Dee 23415. . TOWANDA. PA.
R. S. M. - WOODBU N, Physi
cian and Surgeon. Otrice over:o, A. flack's
`rockery store.
Towanda. May 1, HMV'. •
AIADILL CALIFF,
• ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
TOWANDA, PA.
Office in Wood's-Block, first door sont,i of the First
National bank, up-stairs.
ti..l. MADILL. rjans."73l - yj .1. N.CALIFF
G RIDLEV IqYNE,
ATTORNEfI , i-AVLA
South side-Meteor Block (rooms formerly occupied
L) Parys 8 rnrpuchait),
TOWANDA : PA ,
(1.1.77)
MEE=
JAMES WOOD,
.ATTORN EY-A A IF,
. _
Tow.% s Pi
=EI
CHAS. M. HALL,
Attorney-at-Law and Notary,
Will give careful attention to.any bdainess entrust
ed to him. Mice with Patrick St Foyle, (over
Jwirrial Office), Towanda, Pa. fdttuil7'77. •
JOHN P,.SANDERSON;
- ATToItS EY-AT-LAW,
OFFICE.—Means Bultditig (o%_er Powelre; St(ire)
meh94,3
S W. it WM. LITTLE, -•
AT TOR NE FS-.4.T-LAW, TO wANDA, P. 4
Office over, liecicerS Prorl,lou Store, MatitStregt
Towanda, pa., April IS;'76.
ei EORGE D.-STROUI),
.4 TTORNE FAI D , enITNSE I, ho 12- A T-T, A W
r.,
Offtce—Slatn•st., font (idol; North of Ward !loose
PracticA In Supreme lcourt
of Penthiylcanta ;toll 151111.etl TOW A NDA, PA
ipates Courts.—[l-lue7. - 734 . ' -
La STREETEpt,
.
LAW OFFICE,
TOWANDA. PA
aug2o
•
nVERTON & MERCUR,
ATTORNEYS. AT NV,
TOWANDA PA.
Office civet Montanyes Stern. zilay67s
D'A. OVERTON. RODZ: EY A. M ERMR
WM. MAXWELL,
A T TOR NE F-A T-L AIV
OFFICE OVNII DAYTON'S STORE, 'TOWANDA, PA
Atoll 12, 1.476
I ,aTltlCh ~;, ~'OI LI~.,
A froß.vsys-,4 T-LA H'.
Waco, In Mercurs Block
j ANDRE kV Will!',
• ATTOR.VEYA 6UNSELLOR-AT-LAI
A! ire over Cross•'Hook Store, two chum, north of
Long. Towanda, l'a. May be consulte r d
n ernniu. jAptil I^_,'76.]
(IVERtON & ELSBREE, ATTOR
\_/ NErs AT LAW, ToWANDA, PA. Having, en
ca4l Info crpartnersidp, offer their profFfo,lunal
ef ( rvireff to the puldfr, Special attention glyep to
tni•Oneb: In the Orphan's and Itegisfor'h 'on rtf,
E. ”1" FWD .bit. (MO I-70) N. U. ELSII I.: E.
MI
"C. WHIT-AKER,
Bo I
)F. DT R.
Cr , itTER Itt - ILDI Nr.. TII I lib FLOoR,ToWANDA
C S. RUSSELL'S
GENERAL
NSITRAXCE AGENCY
Marzs- - ott
__.FCSLTRANCE AGENCY. •
• •
The
RELIABLE '4IND FIRE TRIED
Compinles represented
A cS,IIIIIE,PIIIENIN,IIO3IE,NIETICII ANTS,
Stin.l, 16, 0. 11. ISLACC.
1S1;4. • • • 1876
rfoIVANDAINSUR ANCE AGENCY
Street : oppoitte the Cotit Ilptees
W.*VINCENT,
M d k AG Eli.
D 1 1 . T. B. JOHNSON,
PIIPSICIAS AND S 11R FOX. •
•
Oftet• over Dr. Porto r h Sores D rug.s torn : , Towanda.
ja•it-75%f.
- - •
V•
•
, 1 , 3 ,. . , K M E F L1X,
fi D i z i, ;;TisT:—Opice
Teeth tusertett 001, Tt ( u )w h a be tu r i . 3. :itt i j . Al
:11:u1 t sae , . Teeth extracted thout palm
•
*D. PAYNE, Vii: T)
r SUN
PHYSICIAN ASP IGEON.
,
4 ': 7l, e "vet' 31mitanyme'Stare. 44alre bolas from 10
i ,, 12. A. 11., and ftren 2 t. 4, 10. )4. Speciiil attention
iv,,,, to (Itteaues of the Eye andlE ar.-- ..--t!ct.194":6-t.f.
.. -.1--------
GERITY & .110Rkt i '.11, !I
•
. , [Eibvi.hed..N., ) ".3
- ,
'S D
-,
'ITOLESALE R I T 1 IT42I(IISTS
1
I)l:l"GuiaTa SUNDIIIE TAI iiNT .11.101CINEIS
\ -I
I . :
II &i: &C.-
. ~.
1:e, LAKE Svcs
} rb. ~, •78
~. 4 s'
- Poetry.
THE,DEARER DEAD
You mourn for your dcad you go •
Clad twyour roues of woo
To the spot where they sleep ;
And you weep, --
Shedding such bltter tears, and there
You strew Soweb fresh and fair ; .
You 'game a white stone at the head
Where; craven etch the sculptor's art, •
We read your fon my of heart. •
And the dear ; name of your dead.
But there aro dearer dead. Yon . know
Not the bitterest woe ,
Till 300 close tae dimming eyes
Of dying Heim—till mourutnl•wise
Yell cross the handset Love,
And sorrow.ing bend ate
The ashewaud dust -
W Honor and Truth and Trust,
For these are the dearest dad.
Ah S these other dead Who dare
Itobes•t,f mourning, for dead hopes wear ? •
'W,)to bids a stone arise : •
T. tell where a dead Love lies?
When did ever a mourner-say,
•' Help me bury these dead away?"
't feb.l'7B
These funerul trains men do not see ;
They more silent!) , /1 /
Down to the heart whore the graVe hj made,
Whsre the dead are laid.
o flowers are strewn there,
No moan is heard thi•re,
Na ritual is said'
Over the dead :
Ilidden.away from sight .
All ttie will years.
•
Only the silent night
Seeth our tears..
AhTlitli IiEAD
Yon are happy tt ho n o for ythirtleittl
By the nide of graven kept green
the lean, you Atett
Who cancan
Lovingly tVhere they slt.ep,
Praylfor those V. lit. Ili ~.,rut
The hearer den t.
M4l , len, I thani: ti ny • for thy
Thy sweet. shy ifl:uu•e of
Fur, froth the hyautv :ma thy grave.
\ly life has won a gill surprise.
July 27,16
I met thee on the,,,er , ..,,ded Fee
A load of care it, heart atol -
And, for a moment, bright and fleet,
The i Won ' made me yomlg again.
And thetl 1 thenthhnght, a , 4 .11 I 'Went.
And struggli:d thr!mgh II p thr"nging ways,
How eVe , y • nu ydement
The age that fothm-:.. ovvtlays.
The yonth upon tho chttft shuts d , vti,
Young manlp.,l d 0..., over youtli„
AO ripe old :1;,:e bit h.. erowsi
That keep, them both In ,•hangele,.3a•talt
Sn, t , vt.ry iiellecl,Pol I
With brow and >hit It .I:uteri:, .1
Awl ,Imple filth and fit.llt•
Find, .~tiil lit tie
TIPW3II every rave :Irel rat rlr., hop, ,
fusty 'bout or call I hour.
Th.• boy itl.to no• yning. xs an joy
And ring..an echo to his cheer, •
123=11
Tha . 111./Vi'd mp Tit it lit:, a lav,zo,
h t • t.. t 1,11111:11 4W
Of yi,iitlCh cLtiall...ing by mottics ?
I=
=I
1%1111.1111g ,Iny thy r,,111311,•,.
Thwi a youtll,ns,tta by,
Wh , Yl rctuncc , d"th,•,•gt ra 1 r glarive.
}'or alt iur youth ',still my "Wil
-1;01111,1 All 1 hi• aiutne or als age
Aud•breat.ll ra..i" bath
'lnt• heavy hat I, I th.• a go. .
-. r Ila
. •
TOWANDA, I'A
Irpra Guild wos the daughter of an
Indian , j.eneral echo died, covered
ith fanie, and left her and
literally friendless in Boinbay, ssherc
he breathed his last.
• lli, (13ing. worls were : " Go home
ny poor, ._:rl, to your Aunt
ford at I ,Elmsley, near London, and
stay with her until you are married
to Wal t
For Genera' Guild .and Colonel
Cray had been friend 44 together atl•
comrades in many a battle, and had
long ago allian'eed their motherless
children to one another, the wedding
to take place :1,- , soon . as the young
man had attained his majority„
So here was the orphan girl near
ing the end of her long; jourm y, and
gazing wistfully •at the strange and
unfamiliar land of her birth. •
There way one vlause in- her (kV
fathers will which re, urred to
Dora;s mind with ever present pain,
ever sinceFhe 11 , d first heard it ; and
that *as, should she, upon making
the actin:lint:lqm * of Whiter Cray, re ,
fuse to marry him. the hulk of het'
fortune should be passed over to'her
cousin Penelope A rlingford.
Towanda, Pa.
JIW-73
That her dear father should think
it necessary to coerce her 'into com
pliance bad wrung from her many a
tear. Wholly unversedin the strong
minded ways of some English maid:
ens, she had never dreamed of dis
obeying him, or chi - fusing a, Mate for
herself.
• The kurney was oN'er.,at last. .
Miss I; nil i found licrsclf in a quiet
country housu, surrounthal 4by :the
nost fervent as'surThwes; of welcome
from her sc,le sirrviving Wlatives . ,
who, of course, knew all abOut her •
;Whirs, and treated her with Efie.most
delicate consideration.
Mr. Arlineord lwas a hlutT and
luarty , rentleman farnieq....Mrs. Ar
lingford a reTrved - ladY, -‘lllo, how- .
ever, seemed Idminesl itself; while
Penelope,. the only., daughter, and
I)ora's possible rival for the fortune
was a ,gentle-faced, eliestnnt;_haired
girl of twenty,...who greeted Dora by
winding her anus round her,and lay
ing her cheeks — to hers without ty,
word.
TOWANDA, PA:
-in the course s of the' evening of
Miss Guild's arrival, while she was
(riving her aunt some account of her
voyage from India, she observed lar
ebusin Pcnolope standing out on -the
lawn talking earnestly with a gentle-
Man.
•It was a brilliant night in midsum
mer; the muon, white and searching
as. a great timelight, sh6ne on the
pair.and showed Miss Arlington's
companion to be not only -young and
handsome, but also a lover.
his naineheld hers, hind his state
ly-head was-often. bent in nrimistak
able adoration close to her tresses,
while she leaned towards him in-all
the loving affection.
Very soon they entered the parlor,
and Walter Cray was directly pre
sented to Miss Guild..
And he the lover of Penelope!.
• Dismay,. consternation ,,
_ fell upon
the heart of the orphan. There could
be no mistake—every look, every ue
tion of.the two betrayed it.
ENE
, +
1
i ' '
1
A GLIMPSE OF YOUIH
ET=
Dora's. Delusion.
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t
She was affianced to a :man • who
ored another,
The cold - toueliof his hand on hers,
the distant salutation, asif, she were
the merest stranger, proclaimed that
he was resolved to ignore the con
tract which was between them. .
Dora shrank inib the darkest:cor- . 7
per of ,the room, find bitter disap
pointment tilled her soul. •
Very • soon, however, the conVersa
tion•going on 'round the table arrest.'
ed her Attention. Walter Cray was
telling Mr. Arlingford and Peneloo
an account of listrange murder which
had lately ocerked. •
"The man," said he, "was rather
a.clever chemist, and accomplished
his purpost in a manner savoring.
more of the exploits of the Arabian
Nights' epoch.than those °Lour day.
lie got possession of her journal, and
impregnated its leaves with a sort of
volatile poison, which she of course
inhaled the first time she made a rec
ord in the book, the result being a
mysterious death which no one could
•
account for."
The eyes of Penelope Arlingford
were fixed upon the narrator. with a
pulsating eagerness which arrested
the attention of OA orphan.
"What could it have been ?" she
almost whispered..
Don't believe it," remarked Mr.
Arlingford, sententiously.
The lovers, were gazing at each
othkr, and there was a half snide on
the features of each other.
Soon After this, Dora, being con
sidered weary atter her railway;jour
-nev. was conducted to her bed-chain
)er l hy • her
. - consin, who again em,,,
e:;;Clug her-in a mute, clinging fast'.
ion, hoped she would rest well, and
left her. •
..Nof one word had been said about
her Itetrothal to - the yowlg man in
the parlor; her 'claims Lad been
wholly inbred. •Her cousin was like
-13--not only to rob her of her inherit
ance, but her husband also.
The voting girl retired to bed with
a feeling of desolation at her heart
which may be easily imagined, and
fell weeping bitterly for the old, hap
py Indian life, where she was the
idol of her father, and the darling of
lien aytili.
• She awoke—or, rather, she .strug-
gled back to consciousness:-- with
these • words running through her
the result being a mysteri
ous death,'whielr no one could ae
count for."
It *as a disa - Arceable remark to
occur tO one in the iniddle of the
night, and it roused. her to a preter
natural .wakefuhiess.
began to ponder: Over the
ev,:nt,s of the past evening,when sud
denly something struck her ear that
sent the blood tingling to her:heart.
It was like the trailing of a long
muslin robe over the thick carpet
which covered the floor, and the Cau
tions rustling of paper; :the one
sound following the other frith the
slow and regular monotony of a ma
chine.
The night was at its darkest, and
the head of the bed Was in a cord', so
that the room could not be seen ; but:
Dora diained, with a choking . .of the
breath., the waning of a_ strange
sound.
Penelope Arlingford was in the
•
rOOll3.
Before she retired, Dora .haul read
a chapter from' a large old Bible
which lay on her toilet table: .
She perfectly recollected placing
it on the end of the sofa near the
window when she had finished-read-
in: , it.
She felt that her rival was on her
knees before the book, impregnating
its leaves with a " violatile poison "
Walter Cray had spoken of, and that
'as she finished each leaf, and turned
it cdowly . over, her long muslin sleeve•
swept, the edge'of the hook, making
the stealthy sounds which had arous
ed I.er ,intended . victim.
Remember, she had grown up amid
scenes of passion and violence ; she
had been among flee helpless ones at
CtiNypore where the Sepoys massa
cred &ft, victims in cold blood ; and
death was not :4(3 strange a weapon
in.th, , hands Ofa, young girl,like her
as it would he to us; nay it
. seemed
the pne weapon by Whith Penelope
lin: , ton would most . I`kels7' strike
for love and wealth.
,) , ,b,tionless, her eyes distended, the
I cold dew '6f agony dripping from
every limb, the orphan girl hiy aful
listened to this evidence of trench
erw.
' All at),once a board - at the side of
the bed creaked, as, though a weary
foot -was passing 4Ker it,'Und the
long swish of the garments followed.
Then \the door softly burst open
as if withOut'hands, a flow of air from
the passUge\rushed\ across the girl's
rigid face, and she heard, Multi the
sutfocriting_thrObbings in her cars,
. ,
the first crow of''some neighboring
chanticleer.
Her terror ended inn swoon.
When 'she came to Imrself it was
broad daylight. •
The golden sm.shine was lying.
across her pillow, and the rich per
.fume of honeysuckle came in through
the window and .fi}led the pretty
chamber,'
All seemed peace and innocence,'
around her, but the soul of—the or
phan girl was ' filled with astonish
ment.,
She' could scarcely. • arrange her
thoug!its at first, so terrible was the
ordeal: through_ which she had pass—
ed, ; but at length she saw that she
must- leave the house immediately;
that 'she mast relinqnish both her
affianced and her fortune, if she would
feel that her life was safe.
" Oh, 'papa! my papa !" wept poor
Fora, "'you have matte a terrible mis
take !".
. :When she joined • the family, in
answer to the breakfast ben, she was
in her travelling dress,:and her trunks
were all , :repaclied.
"Whys, cousin Dora, what - is the
matter? - Are you ill, dear ?" exclaim
ed PenelOpe, in a
.soft, cooing voice,
which seemed habitual to her.
Dora • turned her back - :to her
mid-night 'visitor, .and striving to
speak calmly, said' to Mr Arlingferd,
" I wish to return to London 'to-day,
sir. Please allow some one to drive
me -to the station."
There was a pause of consterna
tion, then they all with one accord
began to plead with . her to change
her mind, and none of the three was
MI
TOWANDA, \BRADFORD COUNTY, PL, THURSDAY MORNING, MARCH 21,
MI
so urgent or so teil \ c \ rly loiing
about it 'as Penlope. ' •
," Just try us, dear cousin !" she
pleaded. "Of course yoil\ will be
lonelYat first—everything is shdiffer
ent—bnt who will make you ha pier
than we can ? Has anything offeno
- you, dear Dora?"
"No," ansirefidDora, shuddering;
"but I , shall prefer to live alone."
"You are so young, so ignorant of
the Ivnys of our twins," said quiet
Mrs,'Arlingfoid, heie cbiming in
anxiously. "Itis a m ad thing for
you to think of, child:"
" I Must go," said th e orphan,
averting her :pallid face that the
"dark misery of it might not be \ seen:
So when the pursnasion of him
self, and the pleadings and tears Of
his woman availed not, Mr. Arling
ford got offended, and cried, "Le t
her please herself, Pensie. Ring the
order Sam to bring the carriage
round."
Dora swollowed a cup of tea, and
choked down a morsel of bread, and
then went to her room to vat on, her
hat. •
Locking bet' trunk took but a few
momenta.
She flung herself upon a chair, and
wept silently, feeling herself ,to be
the most desolate and friedless being
on the face of the earth.
What should she do in London?
. Go to her father's lawyer and tell
him she did not.wish to marry Wal
ter Cray, then live alone in such
lodgings as the remnent of her for
tune could afford her.
Ah! it was; indeed, alerribleMis-
take,,that clause in the will +
But into the midst of hei' musings
stole a sound which thrilled herunce_
more with awe.
The swish-of . a garment, the rustle
of a paper just as it aroused her
last night. , .
Dora gazed abOnt her like one be
re of reason.
i a
The large, old bible lay 'quiet
t ough anti closed exactly where
s' e had placed .it=rio living thing
was in - the room but herself. '
' And then she saw the whole rays.
terv
rj,
The - window was partly open, .any
a slight puff of wind had blown the
crisp white curta7ns in the room,
then receding, had ;sucked them out
ward through the aparture, while the
imprisoned air, running up the blind,
had caused the tissue paper hanging
at the top.to rustle.
There ca-me another 'puff—the
trail of the curtain over. the Carpet,
the rustle of the paper hanging.
Dora sat gazing at the window,
hey face, in its astounding. thankfa
ness, a study for an artist. •
At this moment ; Penelope came hi.
, She had evidently beep weeping. ,
"The carriage:' is ready, (dear
cousin," sighed she, tremulously.
Dora passed her hand over her
head then, facing-her rival-, asked, in
a hurried tone : "Were you up last
night at any time Miss Arlingford ?"
• " Yes" answered Penelope, in stir:
prise. "About four odloek -I :rose
and shut my window. The wind
was rising."
." Did you hear a cock crow as you
did so ?" ' •
"Yes, I did. Why do - you ask,
dear? Stay I know why! You are
fisightened by hearing.a board creak
beside your bed. I'-should have told
you about that board; how stupid of
Me i"
"I heard a board creak," said
Dora, scarcely btdieveing her own
ears.
Yes, it ought to be !fastened.
down. It runs the-whole breadth of
the house and when I tread on one
end of it in- my room : the other
end creaks in this. Listen.
She ran across the passage, shut
ting the door after her, and in a mo
ment the vexita.ble squaking com
menced, accompanied by the click
ing of the door, which had so petri
fied Dora.
When the young lady returned,
the expression of her cousin's
es was so mightily altered that she
exclaimed, " Why, My darling girl, I
do think you wanted to leave us be
cause you , thought. the house wat
haunted'.
"Per—perhaps,—yes," , faltered
Dora; wistfully gazing at her.
" You poor little darling," mur
mured Penelope, in a deep voice of
compas§ion, and she took .Dora's un
resisting hand in hers. " Why
would you not tell me? Don't you
know, Dora," and. a 'smile played'
around her lips," that we ought' to
love each other dearly? We are
both going to - marry a Walter Cray,
and be the closest sort of cousins."
" Are there two Walter Crays?"
ejaculated Dora.
" What !" cried . Penelope, her
countenance slowly. crimsoning as
the situation burst upon - , her; "did
you—imagine—"
She never completed the Sentence
but; snatching upihe poor tired little
orphan to her . . bosoin, strained her
there, and kissed her tearful,
face, which was fully -returned.
gut Dora never revealed the whole
of her terrible mistake.
THE Mom. TimE....Reproof must
"be administered gently, if at all. If
You are annoyed and vexed at people
jukremember it is not the right time
to speak.' Close your mouth, shut
your teeth together firmly, and it
will save \you many a useless and un
availing regret, and many a bitter
enemy. If 'you luippen to feel a lit
tle cross--and\ who among us does
not at some time or other—do not
select that season \ for reproving your
noisy household flock. One word
spoken in passion will \ make a- scar
that a summer of smiles can hardly
heal over. If you area
i 4vi l fe, never
tease your husband when e comes
honie, weary-from his day's business.
ICIS not the right time. .Do 'not ask
him for expensive outlays when he
has been talking about hard times.
It is, most assurely, the -wrong time:,
It he has entered upon an undertak
ing against your adVice, do not seize
on the moment of its failure to say,
"I told you so r In fact, it is never"
the right time for these four mon
osyllables. Oh! if people only knew
how to discriminate between the
right and the wrong time, there
would be less domestic unhappiu 'es?l,
less silent sorrow s and less estrange
ment of the heart.
. .
REGARDLESS OF DEANCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER.
ITN; FACT AND PAOETIIp
.
Sound invpstmant--bufing a ieleithoae.
Spring bonnets will be worn on the port
ear. ,
A coon() remark—" Who won the
race?",
\A spanking team— a pair of dung
mot re. •
A stick in tin e saves nine—sometimes
wben tlib . fire is low.
To lard-Makers :1 If, at first Tou don't
succeed, try, try agldn. ,
A man never uses his thumb nail for a
screw driver but mice. -
How do you Two
Answer : Tread on be
A bit of lemon bone
to give lemon aid to ti
How should love come , to th l / 4 Ioor?
Certainly with a ring but not without a rap.
A cradle hilt Connecticut family is os43r
200 year& old. 'This must be the "rock ,
of ages.
"Earring sister, goln peace," said the
jeweler to the purchaseeer the diamond
pendants;
Why are all games of chess of equal
duration ? Because it takes Aim:knights
to playa game.
A, paper? at Colianhuc Ind., advias
people not' to call a ulna a liar when the
ground is frozen.
The fourl'Alaughters of a York State
man named Pinta, aro known as a half
gallon o"lassea.
The sarvival of the fittest is illustrated
n. the case of It Leavenworth tailor, who
s 101 years i ,old. •
), •
When is neuralgia in the face like the
ancient money-changers? When it is
seated in the temple.
What is that which is neither flesh nor
bone, and yet has four fingers - and a
thumb ? glove.
-
What word is that of eight letters, from
which, if you take away five, ten will still
remain ? Tendency. .
MI
A little boy being asked " What is the
chief end of man" ? replied, "The end
what's got the head on."
It was an apprentice to a merchant tai
lOr who, sponged a dollar greenback to
prevent further shrinkage.
Why is a htuOand like a Mississippi
steamboat ? Because he never knows
when he may get a blowing up.
Why is a reporter like -a- piCkpoc . t ?
Because ho takes notes,, land ; must have
quick lingers to insure snecesa.-
A man - used to say to his barber, "Thin
out my hair a little." Wives wore not
then invented—we mean acquired. '
" How can I leave thee?" said Adam to
Eve. She made no reply, but calinly
pointed to the fig tree in the distance.
A glass bloweritas recently died at the
age of 120 years. Ills great • ago is' an
other proof of the blewglass theory.
In Switzerland, donkeys have bells on
their necks. In this country, it is not nit-
mai to see them with belles on their arms
Women are proverbially severe in their
criticisms of each other's attire. It makes
all the difference in the world whose dress
is gored.
" Silk
fro
covering ho instep, are thirty dollars a
pair," remarks a fasgion editor. And yet
pepple %louder why so many editors re
main single. '
"Don't you think," said a husband in
a mild form of rebuke to his wife, "that
women aro possessed by the devil?"
" Yes," , willi the answer, "as soon as
they are married,"
•
"Papa," said I a bright boy just home
from a 1 slight-of han d entertainment, "I
wide I was a chnjit r." "Why, my son?"
gf I would-turn you into a rat, call up the
Cat, and wouldn't I have 'fun ?"
What's the difference between a inner
al.and, a bar-room This will bo easy
enough after we have_ told _you. At a
funeral th‘e bier holds the casket, but in a
bar-room the cask it hold the, beer.
darkey• gives the following' reason
vy the 'colored race is superior to the
ite race. He reasons—that all lien
are made of clay, andlike the meerschaum
pipe, they a 4 more valuable when highly
colored.' •
•
The coldest storm-wave of thesseason
was experienced by a yong man from Sy
mouse, Who escorted an East Rome girl
home sunday night, and was detected
i by,
her father just as be was in the act. of put
ting his moustache where it would do her
the most good.
Robinson went up to his room the other
afternoon and noticed 'that there was one
match remaining in the box. "Now, if
that shouldn't \ bunt when I come in to
night," soliloquized he, "what a fix I
should ue in." So he tried it to see if it
was 0 good one. It was. •
Lord Mayo imported a female emn.
While his lordshiplwas away from home
She laid an egg, and his perplimed bailiff,
writing to inform him of the - occurrence,
began his letter as follows : "In the ab
sence of your lordship, I put the egg un
der the greatest goose I could find."
In response to written orders, the ex
pressmen of Meriden, Conn., were sent
in great bade to a hotel to take the trunk
of L.A. Phant to the depot. Ttio land
lord/took the jolt() kindly at first, - but as
express - wagon after' express*wagon drove
up the joke bemme monotonous.
A Frenchman, stopping at a tavern,
asked for Jacob. "There is no such per
son here," said the landlord. : ''Tis not
any person I want, ears ; but ze \beer
Make warm widze poker." "Well," , an
swered‘the landloid, " That ' s 'ink"
! yes, saro, you arein ze right ; I
mean Philip."
Now cometh the yong man to his tailor,
o saith.unto him ; " Build me an ul
ster. And make me a pocket in the sleeve
thereof,`of the space of three inehes wide,
that a maiden's bafid may go therein. And
we thou lzAd \ the pocket right over against
my thnny-bone shall come to pass
that she shall 14 tb, now
and shall tell' rr horrid, and
shall squeeze
cross?
la acid
liately.
•
Aockings, will 1 lace medallions
;ORll+4sll)fic(i)gO*Vid
The noble missionary Moffat tells
a beautiful story. — He says:" "In
'one of my early journeys I came
*lib my companions , to a heathen
village on the banks of the Orange
river. We had travelled far, and
were hungry ; thirsty, arid fatigued;
but the people of the village rather
-toughly directed , us to halt at a dis
tance. We' asked for water, but they
would 'not surly it. I offered the
three or four: bnttons left on my
jacket' for a little milk and was re
fused. We had the prospect of moth
* hungry night, at a distance from
water, though within sight of the'
river. When twilight grew on, a
woman approached, with a cooking
vessel on her head, and a leg of mut
ton in one hand and water in the'
other. She sat down withont'ssaying
a word, prepared the fire and put on
the meat. .We asked, her a g ain and
again who she was. She remained
silent till affectionately entreated to
give us a reason for such unlooked
\ for kindness to strangers. Then the
tear stole down.her sable cheek; and
she \ replied, 'I love Him whose ser
vants\'ou are, and surely it is my'
duty to ive you a cup of cold water
k gli
in His n roe. My heart is full; I
therefore teannot speak the joy I
feel to see You in ;t4is out-of-the
world place.' Sri learning a little'of
her history, and ' that she was a soli
tary'light burning in a dark place, I
asked her how she k' pt tip with the
light of 'God in her soul in the entire
absence of the com,rntiniOn \ of saints.
She from her bosom aopy of
the Dutch New Testamentwhiel;
she haP„, received from 'Mr. H elm
when' in his school, some years\be
fore. ' This,' said she, "is the follu r ,
Min whence' \ dtink ; this is the oil\
which makes my lamp to burn.' ' I
looked on the precious relic, printed
by the British and Foreign Bible So 4
ciety, and the reader. may conceive!
my joy, while we mingled our pray
ers and sympathies together at the
throne of our Heavenly Father.
. .
A MOTIIER's IN iLUENCE.—IIt is
hard fin; a young mother. who 'has
not . yet - overcome the wayward tetk
dencies of her own youthful nature,`
to realize the influence she exerts
over her little ones. She isconstantly
surrounded by Critical imitators who
copy her morals and manners. As
the mother is, so are her sons and
daughters. If a family of children
are blessed with an intelligent moth
er, who is dainty and refined in her
manners,' and (toes not' consider it
necessary to be one woman in the
drawing-roim and an entirely differ
ent person in her every-day life, but,
who is a-true mother, and always a:
tender, charming woman, you will
invariably see het habits -a speech
and perfect manners repeated in her
'children. 'Great, rough men, and
noisy, busy boys, will, alst4s tone
down their voices and step quietly,
and try to be more mannerly when
she stops to give them a kind word
or a peasant' smile—for a true moth
er will never fail to say or do all the
kind, pleasant thing she can, that
will in any way help to lift up and
cheer those whose lives are shaded
with_ care and toil. The mOther of
to-day rules the world of to-sorrow.
Think of it, dear sisters, and guard
well your home-treasures.
ft
E LAUGH OF CIIILDIMOD.FOI-
lo ipg is a selection from the lecture
of I. Bob. Ingersoll:
Tere is no day so sacred but that
the laugh of a child will make it ho-
Tier-still. Strike with hand of fire,
0 weird musician, .thy lyre strung
with ApcilO's golden hair. Fill ,thee
vast xathedral aisles with synphonies
sweet and dim, deft toucher of organ
keys. Blow, bugler, blow, until your
silver notes do touch and kiss the
coon -lit waves, and charm the lovers
yandering -on the Vine-clad shore;
but know your sweetest strains ate
discords, all, compared with cbild
hOod's happy laugh—thee, laugh that
fills the eyes • with light. Oh, rip
pling river of laughter, thOu the bles
sed boundary line between beast and
man, and every wayward wave ,of
thine loth drown some fretful fiend
of care. LauOter Should make . duif
pies of joy enough in thecheeks of
the world to. catch and hold all the
tears of grief. -
AN IMMENSE (EVIL AND THE REME
DY.—"" An ounce. of prevention is .
worth a poUnd of cure," says an old.
proverb. Let us apply this to . tem
perance. A long line of reeling,stag
gering candidates for perdition,
150,000 in number, one after another,
drop out of sight and memory. And
still the death march goes on. Is
'there no way to stop it?
Why, certainly. Drunkards grow
froin inoderate drinkers, and wider)
ate drinkers from the untaught, or
wrongly educated children 'of our
homes., There is a point 'where the
stopyan 'be put On,'and that is in the
home. Ev,pry parent is responsible
for the intemperance o!: his child,- if
he has not by example and precept,
done_ everything to prevent it.
It. parents would take as :. much
pains to furm a pure, healthful taste
in their children as. they now take,
surely, though 'sometimes/ uncoil
eiously, to form a taste for stimulants,
we should see fewer entering the path
that leads to a drunkai a's grave. .
IT Is A mistake which many parents
make, theta trying to make men out
of boys, and holding them aloof from
all the emotions, symphathies, pleas
ures awl pursuits of youngsters. I;
is not natural for boys to be so - staid,
reserved, nor always well-mannered,
and the discipline that, makes them
so before .their time - will probably
distort or cripple some of their finest
qualities. The roots of a young tree
must have room to spread, and if
they are inexorably crammed into a
bole big enough for only one-half o:
them,,some are sure to be grievously
damaged. As for educttion, it must
'always be remembered that what a
boy learns in books is but a small,
portion of his education.. That,
which he gathers from : his; suraqundl
ings and from his home, pleasant or
repulsive, from his associations; ft Can
nature, from everything he sees and
boars, goes to form his mind and
vbaracter, , .
878.
. (Selected foe the IMPORTER.)
VEHMESIG OP HOME.
1 tim.thinking of home. of my 'Father's house, _
Where the.rnany bright mansions be,
Of that city whose streets are all covered with gold ,
And the Jasper walls, pure and fair to behold,
Which the righteous alone ever see.
CRIOIIIIB
Oh home, sweet•boak
I arrr i tltlnklng and loneng for home,
Beyond the pearlY 'gates, many a mansion watts
For the weary ones who journey home. •
I am thinking of home, of my loved. ones there,
Dearest friends who have gone before,
With whom we went down to the dark river side,
Audio sadly thought as we watched by lheelde
Ot the thrice happy morning of yore.
Churua—Oh home. etc.
'I am thinking of home, Ism homesick now, - .
And my spirit doth long to he In -that far better
013
Where the saints ever slog, •
Of the love of Christ, their Redeemer and King,
And of mercy so costly and free. '
Chorus—Oh home, etc.
I amtlituking or home, yes of home, sweet home;
may we all In that home unite •
With the white-covered throng, and exultingly rise -
To the triune, God's twee testantbemxof praise,
Singing glory and honor and might.
Chorus—Oh home, etc.
- I. For tho 'REPORTER.)
WEARY.
BY MRS. ANNA Mr. HOOD RIVER, OREGON
Weary of lielpg, so weary.: •
Longirig to Ite down and - dlo;
To BO for my sad heart, and dreary, '
The endot life's pilgrimage nigh.
Weary. suireary of wlshlng.
;For a form that Is gone from my sight,
For a yoke that Is hushed to tne ever,
For eyes that to me were so bright.
For a hand to he laid on my forehead,
For a glimpse of the dark chestnut hair—
For a step that to me was sweet music;
And a brow that to nio was noble and fair.
Weary, so weary or waiting,
Welting for sympathy sweet;
For some one to love' and It ., cherish,
And pleasures that are trotAtto fleet
Tired, eo tired or drifting
Adown the dark billows of life ;
Tired of breasting the billoWs—
The billows of toll and of strife
Wishing,-and wat frig so satily-
For love, that.Ayas sweetest and hest ;
Willing to die, ,so gladly
It that would bring (Inlet andrest.
STANLEY'S JOURNEY DOWN THE
- CONGO.
\The following is tin extract from
Henry M. Stanley's letter to the New
York\-Berahi describing his journey
down the . Congo River.
I have`eMleavored to take you rap
idly through \ the thousand and one
experiences-As \ we struggled through
the dense darkness • and mystery ,Of
the unknown intoight. A few ex
citing contests I haTe briefly describ
ed—contests with \human • demonS
who delighted 'in fiiad, ,treachery
and cruelty, who regarded us much
as we regarded the noble east that
rove over the plains of tre4unia, as
so many herds of seasoned game to
beslaughtered and carved and\broil
ed and eaten. They attacked us \ w4th
spears, assegays poisoned arrows and
muskets, and at one time they -act>. ,
ually surrounded our camp with hid--
den nets. They drove poisoned sticks
into the ground,.so that in the charge
to scatter them from the neighbor
hood of the camp our , people might
have their - feet . pierced with these
instruments of torture.
.41)n all' sktes
death stared us in the face; suet eyes
watched us day - and night, and a
thousand bloody hands were stretch
ed out to take advantage of the least
carelessness. ..We defended ourselves
like men who knew that puSillani,
mity Would be our, ruin—that mercy
was- unknoiVn to the" savages. Out
of i the charity and regard for my own
people, and tnyself i asivell, on whom
devolyed the respOnSibility of tak,
ing • this expedition through these
savage regions, I wialted naturally that
itnlight have been otherwise, and
looked anxiously and keenly for any
sign of forbearende and peace, as I
saw my African cOmmdes drop one
• b. 4. one from my side in the oblivion
of the terrible Wilds. -We thank
heaven that tho4e dark days are
over.
..
Yet we had sort brief intervals of
pleasure even_ during that stormy
period: - One pacific tribe—the day
after a desperate battle with a mar
tial tribe-'above who, it seemed, - had
oppressed them greatly—Warn'ed by
the, bilge thati sounded the
approach of strangers, turned out in
dense crowds along the river bank;
while the boldest, of their warriors:,
manned their enormous canoes , and,
bore down on us ; ' taking care , how
ever, to cry out the magic word
"Sennene !" which caused tiS to drop
our guns - and eche the -happy word
with such fer;or;of lungs that' the
thousands.on the balk, who might
.have -been a little'diStrustful, instant•
ly distinguished its hearty. sincerity,
and repeated it, With equal fervor, un
til fora time, :even after they had
ended, the .forests across the- river
'seemed to thunder mysteriouSly
"Sennene! Sennene!" We dropped
our stone anchorS:abreast,- and near.
enough to the vast =crowds on the'
-banks, ind invited the warriors in
the canoes to aPprOach.
,; .
From childness shyness they would
not come nearer than - fifty yards or
so, and two old women—ladies, I
ought to call them-"nianned" a
small canoe, and, coming -straight to
my boat, they b rought their tiny ves
sel alongside, unit after an introduc
tory laugh offered us. palm-wine and
a couple of chickenS4 • PresentlY the
wart ions, shained out of their. shyness
—it was not fear—drew their canoes
alongside—enormous things; ,twice
the length of ourT i boat—and complet."
ly hid, almost criiSheO, the tiny canoe
Of the women; but the most pleasing
sight to me, to Which - My eyes " were
constantly attractedwas the faces of
the two women, and *the. tiny- mes
senger of peace and comfort to us in
the midst of _our: days - of .trial. On
looking into the great warrior canoes
I observed, with pleasure, that there
'was not-one spear or bow and arrow_
in one of -them, which .cattsed
- to confirm my opinion of their . tact
and .delicacy—to look, more atten
tive at the crowds - On the ba nk, and
there was not - One 'weapon of , -war
visible anywhere: Presently • ob
served one huge canoe make off ,for
the shore, load doinds of palm wine
•and baskets - I of potatoes, and 'return,
each man l itinging enthusiastically.
'The potatoes were for me, the -palm
wine formy people. - • -
4,
When I asked how it happened
that they were so kind to. strangers,
when we had fought three , times the
day before, they said that though the
drums above-river summoned them to
fight us, some of their people 'bad
been up-river' fishing among the
islands the day before, and the dr • ms
had caused them to hide themselvei
and see what took place. They had
seen us talk to the natives, offer
cloths andlbeads, And had seen them
refuse all proffers and fight Us. "They
are always fighting us and stealing
'our people, but we-Tare not
_strong
enough to kill them. "This 'morning
yhen you left that island where you
Slept last we sent very early a canoe
with 0 , 0 slaves—a boy and a woman
—in it, with potatoes and palm Wine.
I f yciu were bad peopleyou would have
caught that canoe and made those two
slaves-your own, but when you allowed
saying "Sennene," we knew that , you
were good people, and we did not
beat our drums for war, but fOr peace.
If you had taken that little canoe this .
morning you would have had tofight
us now. You killed our- enemies
'eSterday and yob did not injure bur
two slaves this morning. You are
our: friends." '
BITS OF WISDOM.
The eyes of other people are the, eyes
at ruin us.
Never affect wisdom. Great men are
most like children.
Ideas are oft times iiby,of the close fur
niture of words.
Men are like words; when not properly
aced, they lose their value.
Avoid formality as you would the mea
sles. A good marksman is not'a day in
taking aim." r..
A man's fortune is frequently decided
by his first addresS... If pleasing, others
at once conclude he has merit ; but if un
graceful,. they decide against him.
The blessing of a,. house is piety. The
onor of a house is hospitality. The or
ament of a house is cleanliness. The
appiness of, a house is contentment.
Lost, . yesterday, somewhere, betifeen
sunrise and sunset; two golden hours,
each set with sixty dianuind Minutes. .7"To
reward is offered, for they are gone.for-
12123
Say nothing respecting yourself; either
good, had, inditferentnothing good, .for
that is vanity: nothing had, for that is
affectation; . .nothing.idditfprent for tha',is
,
silly. - _
Philosophy is to poetry what old age•is
to -youth, and the stern truths of pliil6so--
phi.are as fatal to fhb oue as th&cbilling
testimonies of experience are to the hopes
of the other. - - -
Affection - can withstand very: severe'
storms of rigor, but not a long.populai
frost of indifference: • Love will subsist
on wonderfully little hope, but not a i l&
"gether without' it. ~ - , ~ / ,
Contentment abides with. truth... And •
\
,you generally suffer for wishing/to appear
oler than you_ are, :whethei it be the
riche or more learned. Tv. mask soon
become • ainstrunierit oftorture.
If we m. ke mist:* s• solving the prob
lem\
. ' - ..
' •/ "
of life, oir verSjblundering niay teach
us to eNertise-`motre care. If • ,welearn to
1
know our error and gain. a little wisdom,
we shall be•b tterprePared for a higher
life. I• . •,.
•
It is a high, - soleniu, almost ' . akful
• thong t for eyery individual that his
earthly influence,' which lilts had b a com
mencement here, ; will never, \ through .all
tige.9, were he theyerymeauest \ ef ni - 1,
'have an end. : • \ ,/..• •
' If 7c would get, We rmist.:gii.C./_,Wben
the -pump will -not work, Fn pour a Bain
water into it, andlhat s enabllS it to bring
up more. The hind that is closed lets in
nothing just as truly as it lets out nothing,
•and seltishfiess 4 tbus outwits itsel6_ This
is tree spiritually as; well as in temporal
and pecuniary . matters.
A good aim well kept to is -n good deed,
ro live with,ihigh ideal is a successful
life. It is/not what one does,' but what
he tries that Ankes the soul strong
and tit-for a noble lareer. All life is a
_ . - •
discipline; and if . ice are brought to take
(.4.il
o's will as otirkiwu; .we gain tbe high
,,est success 'that; is possible to man.-LE.
P. Kenney
•
REST- FOR THE MlND.—While the-,daily
occupation 'is monotonous and engrossing,
a full supply Of excitement for the leisure
hours may be desirable; but where the
mental powers have been • taxed to their
utmost throuAli the hours of labor, it is
absolutely necessary to• health,and happi
ness that they be entirely released for at
least a' portion of the time that is left.
" • DrunkenneSs eXPels reason, drowns the(
memory, - defaces beauty, , diminishes.
strength, inflames the blood,eauses;ititer
nal, external, and ineurable'vvoumis ; is a
devil to the soul, a • thief 'to qui purse ;
the beggar's.compabion,: a wi(e's'woe and
ehildien's sorrow ; Mal r ies t ti strong . nian
Weak, and 4 wise:man a fool. :He iS worse
than'a beast, anilis.n self-murderer, tvhi;
drinks another Oodpettlth and robs him
self of his oWn. •
.let toward others as you - iVeuld they
should act, towards yourself. It. is the,
same in life / asin the midst of the sea •
for everyjmNigater . there is the same sea,
the same dangers to be aware of. - °AB long
you are borne on a tranqUil surface,
bele thoie who have. suffered 'shipwreck.
/ WI o can say that you will not be over=
taken by a storm ?—:yOu• are not yet in
port; the same conduct that you. have
shown % to..the unfortunate will be shown
to you by yourfellowsoyagers. r . , . ,
Our manner of life should be such that:
we may be known as- servants of God;
but we 'should not try to pass for what
we are not. St. JOhn tells the Jews that
he is not Elias. He who humbles himself
shall‘be exalted. - Our Lord declares than
he is Elias ; and if he: be not really Elias
in body, We makulso'say thatthe sanctity
of his 'life and theitnportanceof his mis
sion' make him ,greater than Elias. He
resembles Ellas in his rude, austere` way
of living ;. and ins from Elias burstOorth
impressive eloquence, startling, __striking
as the lightning; so does it burstfrim St.
John the Baptist: His mission is higher
ge‘en - thair that of Elias. He is sent to
announce the coming of, our Lord.--tie-
Boyleive,
- .s'',
:=, , ; , t' , -'-',
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A 2 perAnnuntin.Advamie.
i kith; 42.
PULPILLIENT 'OUDITAKEL
"Men mark.when they .hit," ob.•
serves Bacon, "and never mark when
they miss ;"'and to this circumstance
he, attributes the belief in dreams
and popular predictions. , No donbt •
•
anal
mainr of fulfilled
iprinusges and prophesies- could eaSily ,
be collected; There are, for instance,
!few better attested facto thin the, eel.-
',tainty of his death which Nelson,en
tertained before the battle of Tin" fal
gar. As the captain of , the "Eurya
lus " took leave of him on the morn-
itig of the - 21st, of October, "God .
bless you, Illackwood," - he said." I
shall never See you again," . It is,
however,, equally certain tbstlieLson,
by wearing his full-4:km uniform,
with his four orderi of, kufghthood,,°
did his best to accomplish the mourn
ful. foreboding wfth which he was
haunted. First , esmelhe feelings of •
gloom and then a recklessness conse
quent upon it. The .rest followed
naturally enough.- M.. Campan..re
lathe, another singular presage - which
occurred to I,ifarie Antoinette. The
Queen, who usually went to bed very
late, was sitting in her room one eve
ning toward the. end of May, 1789,
talking to a fewiitimate friends over:
the ,events of the day, which had
been a troubled one. There weie
fOur candles on - her dressing table.
One of these suddenly went out of
itself. Madame Campen relighted it.
A. second then went out of itself, and
a third. The Queen shuddered, and
seizing 11fadamiitampen's hand, mid:
" Misfortune can make one supersti
tious ;if the fourth light goes out
like the others nothing will prevent
me from regarding it as a sinister
pressage." The fourth light went
out. Her attendant, however, point: '
ed out to the • Queen that the four
candles had probably been., cast in
the same mould, and that a flaw in
one had naturally l been repeated in •
all.' In confirmation of this view-it,
had been noticed that *the candles
had gone out in the order in whick-i
-they had been lighted. '
REMEDY FOR TROUBLE-WO k is
your true remedy. If misfortune bits
•ou ,hard, you hit something else
hard ; pitch into something with a
with , There's nothing_liye goal, sol
id, exhausting work to / cure trouble.
If you have met' with losses, you
can't want to. lie awake and think
'about them. You/Want sleep, calm,
sound sleep—and` eat your dinner ; -
with appetite. /Bit you can't tffiless. •
you work. Ityou say you.dton't feel -
like work, get loafing all day , to •
tell Tom, // lick, and Harry the story
of your does, you'll lie awake and
keep your wife awake by your- toss.
ing,Apoil 'your'temper and your, /
breakfast next morning, and begin
tmorrow feeling ten times worse
ban you do to-day. There are some'
great. troubles that only time / can -
heal, and perhaps some 'that / never -
can be : healed at all; but all' can -be
helped by the great panacea work.
Try it, if you are afilictdd.- It is not'
a patent medicine. It has piovell its .
efficidncy since first/Adam and Eve
left behind them, with weeping, their
beautiful Eden„ ./ /lt, is an e ffi cient
remeny. All good- physicians pre
scribe it in. of of mental and mor
al disease./It operates kindly as
well, leaving no disagreeable effects,
and we assure you that we halie ta
ken a large quantity of it with most
beneficial results. It 'will cd re
. more
complaints than any nost rum in the
materia medica, and comes nearer to
dieing a "cure all "'than any' drug or(
compound,of drugs in the market.
And it will not sicken you if you do
not take it sugar-coated. =
A You NO MAN AND MIS COMPANY.
—A young man,just launching into
business, should make it a.point not -
to mix with -those of,whom he would ,
be '\ ashamed of in years to come.
Thqre are many who start inlife with 7
good 'prospects and intending . to.,act
in good \faith and lead honest' and
upright liyes, and would' have un
doubtedly done so had they associa
ted with men \ of unsullied character,
whose names, Were above
,reproach;
but no,. the frivOlities of the other
-picture, they were \ unable to under
' stand. Society can be appropriately
named temptation. If.a person's in
tentions were good' and he should'
accidently fall into bad society, he
would eventualy, from being thrown
continually into - such company, ay.
quite like habits, and finally. -find•
himself in a position from which -it
would beimpo isible to extricate him
gelf. Simi' cases as these • are daily
oceurruig in our m idst.. . How. _ow many
of us know of men who.have bad
golden , ' opportunities, men._ who
lost wealth, position, and honor
through the influence of immoral so
ciety. Look: at the.numbers of well
educated men traveling from door to
door in search of foCid—men who
have lost "their names and standing ,
in the worhl, and. have fallen so low
that they have lost all shame. We
think we have drawg the picture . well"
enough to satify the young man that
now. is the time—now is the harvest,
and if they fail to take these advan
tagcS, they are lost.
TrxE Gnu; THav7s 4:3100n. - -The
higher and more perfect the tiaining
woman has received in all woman-
ly essentials, the better wife and.
mother she is prepared to become.
She will not want for suitors "who is
worthy of then]. Men are not blind.;
ed by glare and glitter, by long ring
lets of false hair, by mammoth pa
niers, artificial insteps, , unnatural
complexion, arid that long languish
of the eye-lashes due to deceptive
arts—not even when the soft rustle
of silk is thrown over this, and is
softened by draperies of, real lace,
And embellished with the gleam of
costly jewels. Most of them carry;
deep in their hearts, a love of home
and 'real womanhood. Now, it is the)
business of all true woman to (All
out this feeling in men ' their doing'
so is . necessary foi the life - of society,
for the prosperity of the world.
" Men are what women make of
them," it has been said. Well, be
fore woman can call forth any good
in man, they must themselves be good
and pure, and', trueki every. law of
health, mental anti physicad.—Heara
and Dome.
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