Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, November 13, 1879, Image 1

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    TERMS OP PUBLICATION.
Toe BRADFORD RRPoi:Mists published every
Thursday mornimt by GOODRICH di HITCHcOCR,
arOne Dollar per annum, In advance. •
Sr - Advertising to all cases exclusive of sub•
scription to the paper.
SPECIAL NOTW ES inserted at TZN CZWill per
line for drat Insertion, and rivz c &NTS per line for
ech subsequent insertion,. but no notice inserted
for less thin fifty cents..
YEARLY ADVERTISEMENTS will be insert
ed at reasonable rates.
Administrator's and Executor's Notices,
Auditor's Notices,tl.so Ilumnesseards, avenues ;
(per year) .S, additional lines fit each.
Yearly advertisers are entitled to quarterly
.changes. Transient advertisements must be paid
for in advanee.
All resolutions of associations; communications
of limited dr individual interest, and notices of
Marriages or deaths, exceeding live lines are charg
ed JriVx CINTS per line, but simple,notices of mar
riages and deaths will Le published Without charge.
The Rtrouralt having a larger circulation than
any other paper in the county, makes it the beSt
advertising medium In Northers Pennsylvania.
JOB PRINTING of every kind, In plain and
fancy colors, done with neatness anti ,ilispatch.
Handbills, Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, Billbeads,
itateMents, &c., of every variety and style, printed
at the shortest notice. The 41EFORTEIT, office -is
well supplied with power presses, a good assort
ment of new type, and everything In the printing
line can be executed in the most artistic manner
.and at theJowest rates. TERMS INVARIABLY
C ASII. . •
- ga usiness §arbs.
JOHN W. CODDING,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, TOIir'ANDA, PA.
Ofrice over Mason's old Bank. •
THOMAS . E. ail ER
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,
TOWANDA., PA
Office with Patrick and.Foyle
PECK it, OVERTON
ATTORNEYS-AT-L/IW,
TOWANDA, PA.
OVEUTON%
ODNEY A. ERGUR,
1111 ,
ATTORN AT-LAW,
To NV A zi_DA, I'A.,
soltritor of Patents. Particular attention paid
to business In the Orphans Court and to the settle
ment. of estates.
(nitre In Montanyes Block May 1, 10.
OYTON-Ar, SANDERSON,
ATTORNE.Y•AT-LAW.
TOWANI)A.
E. OVERTON. Ju,
11. JESSUV,
ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR-AT-LAW,
MONTROSE. PA.
Judge Jessup having resumed the practice of the
law in Northern Pennsylvania, will attend to any
legal business Intrusted to him Jn Bradford county.
Persons wishing to consult him, can call on H.
Streeter. Esq., Towanda, Pa., when an appointment,
can. lip made. .
HENRY STREETER,
ATTORNEY• A ND COL-SiELLOR-AT-LAW,
T6WA NDA, I'A
JAMES WOOD,
A TT() R N ET-AT-T. AW,
TOW A N DA, PA.
j! ,h9.76
11 . L. TOWNER, M. D.,
uoilEorATinc riirsiclANANl,
tot._ Re•llenre"and ()Mee Just North of r. Cor
hto on Main Street, Athens. Pa. Jun26-61h.
LAIILLIS,
.!ITTOIt Elthr-L AW,
TOWA:NDA, i PA.
F; GOFF,
E
JiTTOtt ET-AT-LAW,
' WYALPSING, PA
A-7.' 1, "Y for the" sate ant purchase of all kinds of
and for making loans . Qn Real Estate.
A:i huslness will receive careful and lamina.
at:oil tan. (.Tune 4. 1077
T H. THOMPSON, ATTORNEY
H. LAW, WYALt - sING, Pa. Will attend
to ali mat e ., entrusted to his ere in Bradford,
Stilllvay and Wyoming Counties. Office with Esq.
' (novl9-74.
-
Ti IL ANGLE D. D. S
oI'EItATIVF; AND - MECHANICAL I/ENTIST
i gyre on State Street, seentA flour bt Dr. Pratt's
apr 3 73.
ELSBREE . -k SON,
• ~. .ATTOIINFOCS-AT-LAW,
TOWANDA, PA.
N.C. Et.ssits.K. L. Et.snfr.a..'
0 D. KeNNEY,
• 'AVroitNEY-AT-LAw.
Oflice—Rooms formerly occupied by Y. M. C. A,
Iteadlug Room.
I. McPHERSON,
l•
ATToRSKY-AT-I.•W,
ToW AND A, PA.
Piet Atey . Brruf.
JOHN W. MIX,
ATT , ILNEY-AT-LAW. AND I:. S. COMMISSIONKR,
TOWANDA, PA.
Offlce—Nonh Side Public Square
DAVIEStt CAROCHAN,
ATTORNEYS -At -LAW,
SOUTH SI VE OF WARD HOUSE.
Dec 2345. TOWANDA, PA
JANDREW: WILT,
•
ATTORNSY-AT-LAW.
Oltlce over Turner Ai Gordon's Drug Store,
Towanda, Pa. May be consulted In Berman.
[April I'2, IR.]
J. YOUNG,
ATI2IINEY-AT-LAW,
TOWA NDA, PA.
Offl. 4 —apronil door south of the First Nat'enal
B.lnk Main St., up stairs.
WILLIA.IIS tir, ANGLE,
, _ .
A TTO*C EVF•AT-T,AW,
OF FlCF..—Formerly occupied by Wm. Watkins,
(net.l7, '77) K. J. ANGLE.
=I
11f*XWELL,
A TTORN ANY
TOW A N DA, rA.
Otire over Uayton'y Stote
Aprlll2, Is7ll
' ADILL & CALIFF,
ATTORN iI'SAT-LAW,
TOWANDA, PA
DMlce In WWl's Block. first door south of the First
.N 3:I el , bank, up-stairs.
V. 3. .1 ...DILL. • rjans-7:lly] J: CALIFF
s DR. 'S. MIT
M. WOODBR,
cum, and Surgeon. Office over 07 A. Black's
Crockery %tore.
Towanda, May 1, 1N72.1,••. b y
\\TM. S. VI NC
(GENEitAt.
INSURANCE AGENT,
duly 31, 1879, L i TOWANDA. PA.
'
W. over r }I NI E F L e I E P " : T T I r S a I: ;n7IA. M PT ee
Teeth itoerted on Gold. Ivey, Rubber, ana Al
u nollom Inoe. }Teeth extracted without pain.
Oct. 34-72.
yD. PANNE,
•. PHYSICIAN ; I ND SI - 116E07.C.,
dice over Mon [woe,' Sioro. .orrice hours' trOm-10
LO 12 A. Y.. and train 21. 4 P.
Special attention given to
DISEASES DISFSASES
"E" and
THEE EYE tTHE EAR
I El
W. RYAN,
COC ; ,NTY' ' SUPERINTENDENT
001 Ce day last Saturday of each month. over Turner
....A Gordon's Drug Store, Towanda, Pa.
Towanda, June 20. lo7s.
_l"' 11. PEET,
TEiCIiER or PIANO 31 ck.tc,
TERMS.--410 per term.
titesidence 'rtilrel street, Ist ward.l
Tegrands,.lan.
• : (1 . S. RUSSELL'S
OENERAL
IN.SITRA: 4 SCE AGENCY
•
Mapes-70cf. TOWANDA, PA.
FIRST NATIONAL B.leNK,4t
TOWANDA, PA
;CAPITAL PAID IN
HU
~FUN D..
.Thig tfarik offer!" anxious' facilities for the tranr,
4-. •
action of a general banking businiss.• _
30'3. PqWLEI I L, President
SF,ELEY'S OYSTER BAY AND
.4
4 - tITROPEAN 11M7S1.:.—A few doob southof
thq Myans tlou,e Board by the day or week on
to amiable terms. Warm meals Banal at all hours
Oyster* at wholesake and retail. tebVt7.
•
j41`,4 H. DORMATTL,
•
•
•
- 325 East Water St., Elmira, N. Y.
Ist Floor DRy GOODS
2(1 Floor MILLINERY
3d Floor CARPETS
ith Flthr CLOAKS & SHAWLS
l'pper floors accessible by elevator.
QA visit of inspectlen Is respectfully solicited.
S"QITEHANNA CotizaieTs IN
STITutz. FirstiWintor Term • will begin
310NDAV, NOVEMBER 3d, 1879. Expenses for
board, tuition and furnished room from 01 72 to .180
per year'. For catalogue or further - artleulars
address She Principal,
EDIVI IN,E. QUIN LAIN, it. M.
Towat.da,'July 3, 1879.
THE CENT4AL HOTEL,
ULSTER, PA.
The undersigned having taken possession
of the above hotel, respectfully solicits the pstrottt.
age of his old friends and the public generally:
augl6-tf. • M. A. FORREST.
Sep. ,79
EAGLE HOTEL,
- •
(SOUTH SIDX PUBLIC BQUAIIIL)
This well-known bowie has been thoroughly ren
noTated and repaired throughout, and the proprie
tor is now prepared to offer first-class teromtnoda-
Ilona to the publie,• op the most reasonablif terms.
E. A. JENNIN/38.
Towanda, Pa, Mart; 1878. r
•
HENRY HOUSE ,
BZNJ. 3!. BECK
CORNER MAIN h WASIII3.IoTON STREETS
TOWANDA, PA.
Meals at all hours. Term suit the times. Large
stable attae ed.
PnoTatzTOn.
Towanda, July 3, '79-tt.
=ll
.1
AI+ R KET.
ROSECRANSE dr, BREWER, •
•
Announce to the people of Towanda and vicinity
that they are now prepared to furnish
•
FRESH AND SALT MEATS,
PO4TRY, FISH, OYSTERS,
and Vegetables In their season, at the most reason_
able rates. Everything purchased of us
delivered promptly free of charge.
Pur location. ONE DOOR NORTH *F
SCOTT'S BAKERY, is convenient for all.
We tiny the best stock; and take great pains to
keep everything In the best order. Givens a call.
ROSECRANSE St BREWER.
Towanda, Dec. 5, 1878. '
Fel) 27, •79
NEW . LIVERY
BOARDING AND EXUHANG - E
STABLES.
The undersigned having rented the. old Means
House Bain, and provided himself with
NEW BUGGIES AND WAGONS,
:AND
GOOD' HORSES,
. Is now prepared to are4 , ntroodate the public at
It EASON A BLE PR IC
SiirNew Buggies for sale cheap.
B. W. LANE.. -
,
Towanda. Pa„ July IS, 1878. 7yl.
[novll-75
MEM
IIEA.T.ARKEter•
E. D. RUNDELL,
Would respectfully announce that he 19 continuing
the Market huslneatt at the old stand W . :Hutton* &
Rundell, and will at all times keep a fun supply of
FRESII
tteb.ll'B
FRESH & SALT MEATS,
GARDEN VEGETABLES,
FRUITS,. Sc.
Ogstaes in (heir Season.
MMI
THE OLD MARBLE '.YARD
The mulersiened .having purchased the MAR-
Y.A it of the late GEORGE' McC A RE, 'de.
sires toAnform the public that having employed_
experienced men. he Is prepared to do all kinds of
work in the llike of '
310.1MENTS
ilin the:very best manner and at lowest rates:
Persons desiring anything in the Marble line are
invited to call and examine work, and sareagents*
commission. .
NEW ARRANGEMENT
The underslrne - a
havtng purchased from Mr
Melicau the Ct !A I. YARD
. ,
AT THE SOOT OF T'IN &STREET., NEAR THE
•
CO.UII.T HOUSE,
Ins - Iles the patronage of his old . frlerrdr and the
public generally;4l shall keep a full assortment
all sizes,
PITTSTON, WU. K ESISARRE AND LOYAL
AND SMALL ROLL AT
LOWEST PRICES FOR CASH
MEAT MARKET!
MYER & DEVOE•,
yeated fn
BEIDLEM, BLOCK.: 'MUDGE. STBEET
FRESH AND SALT MEATS,
_DRIED:BEEF, FISH, POULTRY,.
GARDEN VEGETABLES AND BERIIMS IN
IST OF LEGAL BLANKS
Printed and kept on attle at the ItzeontEß °MCI
Deed. •
Mortgage.
Bond.
Treasurer's Bond. •
Collector'Aßond.
Lease.
Comp'slat.
" Commitments.
Warrant.
constable'2. Return.
Articles of Agreement. 2 forma
Bond on Attachment.
Constable's Sales.
Collector:a Sales.
Execution.
• Subpcena.
Petition for License.
Bond for License.
Note Judgement.
Note Judgement Seal.
Note Jugemetd 5 per cent. added.
Tnan "Met. itcgac.
School order Book.
Summons?
6123 4 000
6G;000
, N. N. BETTS, Cashier
A MI 1. 1673
GOODRICH & HITCHCOCK. Publishers.
VOLUME XL
- g uii it ess §,arbs.
(OW TIM ZUROPEANPLANj
air A❑ Goode delivered Frets of Charge
" E. 1). RENDELL
ToFunds, Pa., June 18, 1879
STILL IN OPERATION
HEAD STOAS,'
• MANTLES and
JAMES MCCABE
Towamia, Pa., Nov. 18. 1878.. 24tr •
MEM
COAL BUSINESS
S9CK COAL,
NATHAN TIDD
Towanda. Pa., Ant. 21, 182 a. 12y1
Keep on hand.
THEIR SEASON, Sc
•7' All goods delivered free of charge
MYER & DRVOt
Towanda, Pa., Mai 25, 1579
at whpleL;ale or retail
IA
1 L
,} .~ 1 ~~vefr~.
. TEE OHENANGO.
Fair river that passes
Through grainfield and grasses,
By corn still a-growing, by meadows at rest ;
_
All the daisies and clover—
All the trees that hang over,
Fall In love with Their photograph dowd In thy
• There, transfigured they stand,
Leaning out from the land, •
Over Beets of wlibte cloud], sailing down In the sea
- O'er the/lowers on thy brink,
That have came down to drink.
And have pitched their white tentsLy thit - Tnargfri
of thee. I
Since the country wi(s young-
Since the morning stars sung
The For:algae of God o'er the cradle of Time,
Thou has flowed from Ills hand,
Through the beautiful land,
Never stopping to rest in thy journey sublime. ,
•
All flashing and flowing !
•
•
All gleaming:and glowing
Mating music for mill-wheels that •waltz by thy
side
All the villages still,
That are climbing the bill, '
Have been down to bathe in thy silvery tide.
0, far-naallng River
Tbou,art hallowed forever,
As the path Where the Angel of Beauty hath trod
And It attempth to ma,
s I gaze upon -thee,
Thou has caught the grand gleam of the glory
yd.
w, - the sorroklul moon
Drops a silver pontoon,
All festooned with rainbows, to float on thy breast ;
And our hearts wander o'er _
To the opposite shore— •
To the,hill where our loved ones aro gathered to
rest.
All the rain drops that lie .
In the depths of the sky,
Hear the psalm of the Saints we are sighing to see
And they sing it in rills,
Down the highlands and hills,
4 1111-1 t ripples at last from the bosom of thee.
O, mount-guarded River.:
Sall seaward forever
Singling anthems to Earth as the ages go by ;
Over willow and sod—.
,O'er the mountains'of God,
Let thy muslc float bark Wits home In the sky
Over rock, over rift, • e
• As we silently drift •
Down the Time to the river of Rest.,
May the stars be as true,
And the heavens at blue •
As those fast asleep In thy beautiful breast.
—C. M. Dickinson, Editor of the Bingham
torn Republican.
g±elcried
By ALMENA B. WILLIAMS
In 'every picture I recall of my
e.trly life, a maiden aunt is painted
Most vividly. Her bold and severe
features precluded any claim to. Gre
cianbeauty ; her imaginary wrongs
added an extra story to her
‘ careworn
fdrehead, and pursed her lips into a
riage of decision. Her character,
made up largely of disagreeable
traits, softened soluewhat::, in her pat
ronage of me. Perhaps this prefer
eiree arose from the fact that the last
time she saw her lovhr he kissed my
baby face and swore by its purity.
My aunt always wore suspended froM
her belt an amulet-spoking affair of
oxidized silver, about the size of an
old-time card case, to which was at
taphed-a small key. This she ever
guarded with religious care, showing,
in-,whatever she might be engaged, a
consciousness of the mysterious ap
pendage. I don't ibink; she would
have answered the most alarming
summons without - first, reassuring
herself of its safety. And I know
that my ehildhdod wa4 only distin
guished :by one dangerous sympm
of precocity,' and that was, I never
ventured a question in regard to this
object of my reverent curiosity.
k i
I gli led from my childhood into
.young 1 dyhood after the moat ordi
nary fas ion: M3' life was a- clois:
tered ont shut in on one side by my
mysterio s old aunt, and on the.oth
er by mV.,silent, solemn father; • but
'my_lifemprisoned as it had been,
was finally unbarred to me by the
event of a visit frOm a relative—a ;
leader of fashion in a distant: city.
She introduced me to society, and in
-opening my eyes upon this world for
the first time, I hebeld; to my young
tpul's satisfaction, a rare youth
i named Richard Sinclair. •4le wits
:ritlli in
. every possession save one,
which to my !stern father meant all
—money. For months Richard de
voted himself to my tastes. I was
fond of paintings ; he pointed out to
me the choicest in the galleriei, giv
ing me the benefit of his valuable and
artistic criticisms.
,I. loVed music ;
the finest( nterpretations I heard by
•fiis side. I enjoyed driving, and was
luxuriously indulged, even though I
knew•the tyrant ,economy shook his
.fist in Richard's face. . His rare mil.
ture and attainments • gave him the
•'entree to the same society to which
my wealth admitted me. During the
consecutive seasons no one but Rich
ard Sinclair ledmie in_the dance, or
appeared with Me at the opera. The
Most infatuated lover couldn't have
been more generous with attentions,
yet he had •not uttered a Sentiment
that might not- have been with puri
tanical propiiety spoken to my mai - -
den aunt. What did it „signify'?
Others were profuse-and eloquent in
their admiration, Richard Sinclair
alone was silent.'
SHELVES,
As for myself, he had so - shut the
door of - my heart against everyone
else that I soon gainedithe popoular.
ity of being invincible. I his spurred
my suitors, but their most flattering
activities ailed to slick' Richard.
His friendly visits continued the
same. I studied his face; was he an
unfeelin g flirt? Every feature be
spoke nobility—he couldn't he a tri
fler. All that he said was so in earn
est ; even his smile was like
nating a' holy altar, so much that
men called sacred shone, through it,
No, I knew ,that there could not, in
his nature, so solid with truth, be
hidden any of society's arts. Sp,
gradually,l truied him as childhood
trusts, waiting patiently I could not
tell for what, and leaning upon him,
God knows I (lid not- then realize
how strongly. ,
1,
• CHAPTER H.
„One Christmas evening the light
was turned low in the library ; my
father sat opposite the grate with his
feet cro4ssv4 on the fendr ; my aunt,
breast.
ONLY A M.
CHAPTER I
TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, A., tHITRSDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 13, 1879.
seated by the table nearest - him, was
tapping her glasses nervously with
the mysterious key. I was thinking
" hew rarely things go right in this
great world of ours;" when my father
said to me abruptly :
" Bertha! Bertha! I don't like
scientific men."
" That's specific !" answered my
aunt, giving a withering look to
,my
father.
" Well, then," he replied, " I will
be explicit. I do not like young men
visiting my house with shining coat
fronts, sleeves breaking out at the
edges, and fringed shirt cuffs.' Do
you understand that ? " he empha
sized, turning upon me, while the fire
shot from his excited eye-.
"1 don't recognize your sketch !"
I stammered. "And I fail to see the
connection between scientific men
and="
" The connection is simply tbis
he interrupted. "Richard Sinclair
spends too much time in the labrathry,
to make headway in the countine
room, and we are going to the devil
fist enough without my only, daugh
ter marrying a half-starved, long
haired professor. You know deal
in words, not volumes,!'
" So deal I!" spoke My aunt, shak
ing the magic case threateningly to
ward my father.
" But really, Emily,',' he answered,
more conciliatory ; " it's a more se,
rious thing than you imagine. Theie
are terrible times, and we cannot
afford this sentimental .bosh about
love in a bottage,' l and I might add,
with bones on the - platterunlesi,"
he added, studying .Iny aunt more
closely, " you will consent to, sign
that paper."
Again my aunt clutched the amu
let as though its• safety had been
threatened, and answered ; ;
" Been buying stocks on a margin,
? I have no money for specul
tors."
" I do not come under that head,'!"
replied my father, gravely. " I only
ask for your endorsement, for Which ,
I t' oive•ample security.
My 'Mint •waslnvincible ; her `voice;
rolled Out sternly and slowly, " Nev-1
er ! neier l"
" Then I am lost 1" answered my
father, with a look of utter despair.
But my aunt on 4 settled herself a
little more preepely in her chair,
and thumped the key on her teeth as
though emphasizing her decision.
My father rose, and walking toward
the door, said : ." Bertha, I met Mr.
Sinclair this morning, 'and gave him
a - modest intimation of my opinion
concerning his visits." With , these
words my. father was gone, before I
could. take in the situation, to say
nothing of an answer.:
"After a few moments' silence, my
aunt walked slowly towardl me, re
adjusted her glasses ; as if th better
to take my measure, stood amoment,
and: then, reverently unfastdning the
case from her belt, turned from me,
opened a drawer of . the secretary,'
took from it.a tiny boi in which she
enclosed something evidently not in
tended for my eyes. Then, after
looking absently into the fire for
some time, she asked : " Who. holds
the key to your happiness?" Such
a queStion ! At*estion involving a
trace of sentiment in it, from my
aunt, was more mysterious to me
than any talisman of whatever magi
cal power. As soon as I recovered.
myself, I answered : •
" I fear there is no key tomy hap
piness." Again she gave me one of
those searching looks, that makes
one feel that one is Wing read by a
supernatural power. dropped my
head and thought.
"Is there any one who unlocks a
knoivn treasure to me? Richard Sin-.
clair has not opened the door of my
happiness. 11% he .did, it was only to
shut it against me." Thus reassured
that my reply was ,a correct one, I
repented, with ray eyes lifted and
looking full into my aunt's face :
" There is no key, l neither is there
need of any."
" The day will come," she answered
with prophetic
. meaning, when you
will say there .s need of a key ." at
the same instant handing me a small
hox. Before Ileould open it, she had
.disappeared. 'Eagerly fl examined
my gift, expecting some rare jewel
would flash - its, splendor upon me.
But what was
~.my disappointment
when _I saw lying snugly on pink
cotton only crkey.
Being accustomed to sudden tran
sitions all my life, I soon rallied from
my`bewildermen,t, and fell into a
comfortable-sort of a reverie. I do
not object to reveries; generally,.
they take otie_saway so effectually
from every discomfort and th every
day .disturbances of one's life. - :But,
somehow, that day I didn'tfiget
far from facts.. Something like this
my thoughts ran on :
" After all, is ant this my aunt's
ofti self in a slightly new form, for
ever asking you to look into-the dark?
A regular. old Egyptian hieroglyph:
herself Who lrolds the key to the
mystic characters of her life ? She
is always causing • one to expect some
thing which one never realizes. Ab,
me!. Ah, me ! how strangely separ
ate is my life from those who should
be-klear to me and one with me 1:
'laan never understand them, and they
don't care to understand me They
are monkish, repressing all demon
stration as a feminine weakness. I
have rarely, if ever, seen my aunt
smile.. My father never calls me
'child.' Ile thinks love a mad poet's
dream. If he once says 'no,' it means
bolt and bars. There is no getting
in or out, and he,has evidently passed
sentence on Richard Sinclair. Others
have sweet companionship in their
homes, and bright things happening
all the time. Only stiff, stately wealth
surrounds me, like, Niagara in the
winier;. so magnificent, but oh!
there is ever such a chill in the cold
'glitter! Many are awed by the fro
zen splendor, but it me! Oh,
why cannot something hapPpn to my
father to change - our grand house in
to a home!"
L, How long my reverie continued,
or any incidents that may Ipve hap
pened in the days following, I cannot
tell. Two facts only were impressed
upon my mindmy father's fear of
-bankruptcy, and 'lain determination
to see his only daughter affianced to
bon& and mortgagee.
it Lirrt L
f
REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER.
CHAPTER 111.
I heard my father say to his pri- .
vate secretary, one morning, " If the
Sparta is- lost, my ruin is as certain
-as the sun is to rise." This in a
measure prepared -me ;for the near
and dark future: The cry of failure
is usually not much mote than sound
ed _before innumerable vultures scent
the track. It, was preeminently so in
my father's Cie. , I could, however,
only kupw how calamitous matters
were becoming by my father's terri
ble silence towardtilme. • I felt the
stifling_ presence oicieasing - day by
day, and cried- aloud for some one to
whom I might unburden my bearti
Why could not Richard . Sinclair
brave my father's displeasure, and
give me the needed sympathy ? This
was the one tormenting thought.that
followed me like. a spectre.' Finally
the crash came; the very thunder
bolts were emptied upon us ; every
conceivable advantage was taken of
my father by his merciless creditors.
We were driven at once, with-one old
servant, to humble lodgings. My.
aunt refused to accompany or aid us.
I forgave her afterwards, but then 1
thought, her
. heart made of granite.
Time sped on. Trouble did not
soften my father's feelings toward
me ; it did mine for him. It is said
that "Night brings out the stars;"
but my poor father only saw the
darkness grow darker.
About the time our poverty seemed
the most desperate, Mr. Livingston,
,it gentleman of safe fortune, proved ,
himself a timely friend by engaging
my Vocal instruction for a, yourig
girl of immense wealth. At,p, first a
false pride overmastered me. Must
the voice only accustomed to carol
to the.taste of admirers, earn my daily
bread ? But Fate was unflinching,and
at last I met it4gratefully. Mr. Liv
ingston prover! an -enthusiastic pa
tron, and my one pupil soon increas
ed to a large class. It did not take
a Very.quick eye to discover that-Mr.
Livingston'S interest in my welfare
was seriously deepening. His visits
became frequent I could not object
- to them.. wor should I?' He was
-fond of music; so was I. I .felt that
I could never cease to be grateful to
him. And on that basis I encouraged
his viSits,hclievingthat I had at last
found one man in the wide world
with sense enough to look an honest
friendship squarely in the face, and
abide,by its terrns.,... -
One evening he was sitting nearer
me than was his custom, and perhaps
I was looking into his face morejut
tently than was my wont, when Rich
ard Sinclair entered. I felt myself
change into stone, and said, mechan
ically taking his hand :
. " This is a surprise. Mr. Living
ston, Mr. Sinclair!" They might as
well have ordered coffee and pistols
for two on the spot, as to have Itiblied
the challenge that flashed in their
faces as their eyes met. This was
the first time that I had ever seen
Richard Sinclair lose his exasperat
ing self-composure ; he soon regained
it, however, seated himself at the
table, *opened a -volume of Compte
and played off absorption in the new
philosophy to a perfection that uitic
puzzled me. Mr. Livingston was se=
%
riously discomfitted, his " good ev -
ning " ' was nervous, an I I detected a'
tremor in his voice, as he attempted
to say resolutely, a§ he left me, "Miss
Clayton, I shall be here to claim the
)romised drive."
Alone with Richard I was •silent,
and half indi g nantly reviewing the
past, confusedly recalling the joy and
suilering he had caused me, when he
abruptly - took the review from me,
and went baCk through the past, step
by step. He told me of his vows ;
how he had said that he should never
take the from a palace to a cottage,
and of his determination to tell Inc
this, with a better hope, the very day
my
.father so wounded his pride.
Then in words, each seeming a sep
arate heaven, he offered me the pro
tection of his strong, sheltering love.
I did not refuse it. By this time, be
it known, my father thought more
considerately of long-haired profes
sionals, and received the news of our
.engagement with becoming compos
ure:
What a despot the law of reaction
is ! In less' than a month from this
time, Richard told me that he must
leave me another year; that an im
portant engagement called him sud,
denly to a foreign city. I shall never
forget his face in that "good bye,"
spoken. as confidently as if earth
contained no tomb" or gulf even
more dreadful. A h as my
eyes followed him, What fate is kicked
in the horoscope of the future
revelation is vouchsafed to us. Ex
perience alone is ours—l dare not
forecast too favorably. A chilling
dread paralyzed the, and- could the
power have been given me, I' would
not have rend one word of the un
opened months that lay before mt.
CHAPTER IV
" The promised ride " iproved of
solemn import, to me. Of one thing
I am certain—l had never by wiles
or art sought to lure Mr. Livingston
into an avowal of his love. I will
also do myself the justice to say that
that gentleman sadly misinterpreted
my sighs, silences, and soft replies.
And I. will furthermore do him the
honor to state that most
expeditious
was the
expeditious and persevering captor
that ever besieged a walled heart.
For reasons quite satisfactory: to my
own conscience, I did not tell him of
my engagement.
There are crisises in our lives when
it seems as though all circumstances
which directly affect us converge,
giving all their force to the one. point
'raised against us; About this time
my father sickened with a contagious
feyer. I watched him day and night,
until my strength was nearly gone.
Mr. Livingston was the, only one to
offer relief. I was driven to accept
it. Beside the rest he gave me, he
furnished every delicacy and luxury
to my poor father ; his kindness con
tinued untiring until my father was
gone where he needed care no longer.
Letters came from Richard often.
I read them buiTiedly and excitedly.
I was being diN'erted from him ; not
by any new interest in Mr. Living
stnn, but by my unaccustomed duties.
My letters during my father's illness
had become brief and abstracted. I
could not tell Richard in my anxie
t
ties how much I needed:him, and in
the attempt to suppress my strongest
feelings my words became formal.
and almost unconsciously. frequent
and enthusiastic expressions of grat
itude toward Mr. Livingston crept
into my letters. -
When my father died, the very
hour I longed for sympathy most, he
who alone on earth could give it,
wrote, upbraiding me for !my indiffer
ence. Just as I finished the fetter,
which seemed so unjust in its reproof,
I looked up and saw Mr. Livingston
standing
.before me. His 'face
,was
eloquent- with its old pleading. I
lifted my eyes toward his- he was
deadly pale. His extended ' hand was
übsteady. I took it, in honest,'.grate
ful sympathy. " Oh, don't look so
dreadfully ill ; • don't tremble so! "
I cried. " I can never . forget your
kindness to himto me—l can never
forget your—" .
"My love for You ; can you—tan
you forget that ? can you ?" he re
peated. " Can you ?"
God forgive me. I did not answer.
I looked kindly, assuringly toward .
hiine nay, more—and then left him
abruptly. Scarcely Was my mind
.itself again, when word was brought
me that Mr. Livingston . was critically
ill and must see me at onee. I went
and saw that, without • doubt, the
fatal. fever of my father was upon him.
When seated 'by his: bedside, he
repeated his story; in broken, trem
ulous breath. SO faintly the words
fell, I barely caught their meaning—
that he had created a new world out
of the hopti my last look gave him—
he must die—he knew it, as life here
and the hereafter passed before him,
there was but.one central figure, and
that was Bertha Clayton—his fortune
was immense—lie without an -heir—
would I not consent to bear his name
—might not his dying lips call me
'wife.'"
" Impossible Impossible 1" I re
peated, firmly. But., oh 1 how the
disluinest look given him at our last
interidew, the morning I held his
trembling hand, haunted me. I could
have torn time from eternity to have
recalled it. But lit was too late.
Slowly 'he lifted his hand toward
mine—could I have refused it, and
still have been human ? I took it.
A smile struggled in his haggard
face - as he said :
Bertha !.Bertha! T believed in
you ; that i look was kinder than your
words. My rector is in the library ;
let them call him! Bertha! Bertha!
man's prayer.- There is
no ICaii'67-Tiitznreilualef.44ll--it,Allere
be a memory of you. as my wilOn
Why didn't some power beyond
me streigthen my weakness? I shall
henceforth believe in a personal devil.
Distinctly I heard him whisper, " An
easy way to restore lost fortime; all
will be ended in an hour's time—no
longer' separation . from-the'inan you
love, no more drudgeries, no more
dependence upon the bounty of oth
-0. •
ers."
As I was gradually yielding by
refusing the help of a better influence,
another whigper came—
" You are not .made for poverty
One,experienee in it ought to satisfy
ydu."
" Bertha, have you no mercy ? "
,agonized Mr. - Livingston. .
Again the other .voice sounded
1( ‘ Proud Richard Sinclair will never
maro: so' long as he is a poor man,
and eery hair in your head will be
white before he is any other."
Mr. Livingston's eyes were fixed
on mine. I yiehled=" T-e-s y-e-s,"
. I faltered. I'4-less than an hour: the
fatal words were spoken, and I had
retired to anothe\room. Never was
any victim in greateTiOrment. Every
deception of my life appeared, and
distinctly I heard. them say, "We
have helped - on this, the greatest and
'ruining one of your life."- All the
minor deceptions previously regarded
as n. cessary politeness, flew toward
me like so many scorpions. Oh! what
pit so dark, so deep, as the one into
which I had plunged myself. There
I larat the very bottom, while 'the
sins which cast me there hovered
above, mocking my efforts to escape.
I could see Richard Sinclair, with his
lofty aoodness, his spotless honor
and noble b face like an angel he ap
peared'unto me, but not as my deliv
erer.
• What wi l ful years l Avere those hours
that.rassed as I watched and waited
for the morning; how the first break
of day glared in upon me; how its .
brightness convicted and condemned
me. But 'the end came. A. tap at
my door; I opened it.
" Madam, the doctor Lids me tell
you that the crisis is 'past ; that there
is hope of Mr Livingston's recovery."
I staggered and would have fallen,
but for the glipport of the nurse. I
refused to ,go with her—refused to
see my husband I stole from his
house and went to my rooms, where
I felt like a prisoner within prison
walls. T-he first - thing that met my
eye was a - letter from Richard; it
was written in one of those moods
common to all men while reveling in
the hallucination of their love. Eve
ry word in that -letter seemed aimed
at my life ! What should Ido ? The
one abeursedlook,. and all to- which
it has led me, was vivid to my mind.
At last, the thought that I was actu
ally waiting for any human being to
die, and that being my husband,
drove me to despair; despair drove
me to a confession. I wrote the full
truth to Mr. Livingston, ill as•he was,.
and, in words that I wonder did not
consume the paper on which they
were written, I sent a still more de
tailed account to Richard Sinclair.
The days that intervened between
my writing Richard and his fearfal
answer of sarcasm and condemnation
are sealed—l hope forever—and but
one it an has any right to open them.
must have been "pretty thoroughly
huMbled, for .those terrible words
seemed but deserved. •
Weeks dragged on- 7 their iron
wheels dragged over me—l felt their
.crushing weight—this was _the tor
ture—they did not kill.
Mr. Livingston convalesced slowly;
he sent repeatedly for me 4 but I ern
e* and persistently refused: to see
him: Even the days of threatened
relapse diki not, move my decision
never to see him.
Sty efforts at economy in my houie
hold expenses proved futile. I •lie
came more iuid or jutolved 7 an 4
•/i^
/.„
• + •
how -I was to extricate mySelf be
came- an.every-day question, These
very practical inquiries linked theM
selves with those more sentimental.
Was
.it wise any longer to spurn
love that could bear the strain of
such a course as mine hal been ?.. By
what right was I thus separnted from
my husband_? If he ever sent for me
again, should .I not • go'to him' and
Offer myself in all devotion ? He was
- still weak and, suffering ; did he, not,
need- my care'?` Why ,not yield •to,
these better influences and go to him
at once?. Was -it not my duty?
With this last queStion ringing in my
mind; I sought diversion—sang old'
songs' , ,until the dead past Seemed. a
living, present. Sang my heart and
conscience quiet again ' and was just.
enjoying the luxury, when a messen
ger, whoin I recognized immediately
as Mr. Livingston's, broke in upon
me in greatest, excitement, and' told
me that " I must hasten with him at .
Once, as Mr.. Livingston. in his morn
ing drive had been thrown from his
carriage, and had been dragged some
distance in the lines; that the two
physicians' already called gave little
hope." I believe if heaven records
vows, his
those I made, asil hastened too
his edside, . are registered there.'
Would _I not now sacrifice all in my
watchfulneSs of himq Would I nOt
now care for hiln with such tender
ness that he must soon recover?
mother could watch over the cradle
of her sick child- more faithfully I
Could 1 not now_repay the debt of
gratitude I owed him All that,a
mother could do for her child, all a
sister toald sacrifice for a : •brother,
would I unreservedly bestow 'upon
him. For days and nights I did all
that and more—l prayed the
Christian prays. Tor hours at a time
I watched those eyes,• so often elo- .
quent in their love for me, for one
look of recognition. I kissed for the
first time the motionless, lips;
whispered in his ear the name I knew
.was dearer than all other name_ s—not
" Bertha," but that other,- so sacred
that heaven Would, not be heaven
'without its memory. When his life
ceased we knew not, so silently the
angel came—no farewell wasr . hpoken.
(if . the condition in which my mind
was left, it is not wise or necessary
to write; but, if there be anything in
intensity of feeling to prove immor
ality, then never ask any
other proof.
No -sooner were the last ceremo
nies paid the dead, than. ,the_nsual,
- SlideWig — haste wars manifested to
read-the will. Whatever change Mr:
Livingston might -have contemplat
ed, I was left sole heir and trustee
or his estate. The temptation
could not.have come at a time Of
greater need. I had already sold' the
fugitive pieces broiight from -our old'
home, even to the great chair once
my mother's, only the piano and one
rare geta of art were now left me'
from my former affluence. Should I
part with them (limy stolen treasure?
Gold and all - its glitter maddened
Inc, one hour ; of Poverty mooed me,
thb rest,l struggled 'for day 4, yield
ing-first to the one, then to the oth- -
er, until at 'last, I was lifted above
my temptation by a hand stronger
than man's. I made private and offi
cial in - craries as to the remaining
members of Mr. Livingston's family.
I learned of a needy and widowed
sister living scantily in the remote
West, 'between whom - and Mr. "Liv-,
ngstone there had been-an estrange.
ment. To her I gave two-thirds of
-the property, and the remaining
third to a benevolent institution in
which he had been greatly interested.
Thus freed, the weeks. 'no longer
•
pour-cc s th eir molten lead- over me. I
knew no such law as gravity. I float
ed above every hardship, every trial, ,
every memory. Debt and scanty
rooms had but little power to disturb
me now. I reconstructed myself, and
was living a happier and better bah
anced life than I had ever known. It
was not long, however, that thietven
flow continued. One evening I -was
making a confidant of my piano",
singing as much of "a day that was
glme " into an evening that •was pres
ent is it was possible for me to do,
when "the, door opened noiselessly.
Unobserved, some one entered. On
and on I sang, forgettincr . myself in
my'Lethe of song, when c. l was arous
ed by a soft toilet' upon my forehead.
A strong arm supported me. Stead
fast eyes were looking their gospel
of forgiveness into mine.. . • -
° A few days later there came to me
by express a veryx. unpretentious
package. I opened it,'And, to my
surprise, found the identical amulet
Which in the other days had been
such an embodiment of mystery. In
vain Richard tortured his ingenuity
to open it. " There must, be, some
secret spring," he said, carefully
scrutinizing it under the light.
• "Oh, that, key !" I exclaimed.
"The strange present from Aunt
Emily. It is somewhere in my desk."
After a-tedious search I found the
almost forgotten box,- and from it
took "only a key." Richard turned
the pressed prong. over the lock ; and
the cover flew open. On a yellowed
paper,-in a few curt sentences, was
my. aunt's disposition of her large
property, There was also added; of
more recent - date, these Word's :
" W_hen'your old home on Fifth aV . -
entie was sold, I was the purchaser.
The deed in your name is in the
hands of my 'old lawyer. You can
at once take possession -of theihome
of your childhood, and a only '
will unlock, quite, enough to answer
ydnr full needs.
" Your aunt,
WHENEVER KRUPP, the maker of large
cannon, wants to honor an European po
tentate ho presents him with a big gup.
When an Amerian of great sagacity.
wants to gain the good-will of a fellow
sovereign, he donates him a large pocket
pistol, loaded to the stopper.
Is a run on a ba,nk the anxious deposi
tors "go as they please." • • •
NOT an impracticable, though a highly
undesirable, ism is ruffianism.
Ara. the big lish of English society fOl
low in the wake of the Prince of Wales
THEY call the old folks the parents be
cause they have to pay the'rents.
A MAN threatening to "make things
hum" cannot - be easy in his mind.
THAT well known Oriental personage,
Ali-bah-ball, was a black shoe.
NM
CHAPTER V.
EMILY CLAYTON
Elli
81.00 per Annum In Advance.
•
• INE SUMMONS.
I think the leaf would sooner
Be the first to breakaway, • '.
Than to hang alone ii the orchard '
In the bleak November day.
•
Arid I think the fateof the flower,
That falls In the midst of bloom,
, Is sweeter than if it lingered '• •
To die in the autumn's gloom.
Some golden glowing morning,
p l . the heart of summertime,
stand la the perfect vigor
, And strength of my Youth's glad prime,
When myleartis light and happy,.
And the World seems bright to me,
I would like to drop from this earth-life
♦s a green leaf drops from the tree.
Soma day, when'the golden glory
Of June Is over the earth,
A na the birds areisinging together
In a wild, mad strain pY mirth,
When the skle's are u clilar and cloudless
As the skies of June c4n be,
I would like to have the iunnnons •
Sent don from God •tC me.
I would not Walt for .the furrows,
/For the faded eyes and hair,
pass out, swift and sudden, •
Era I grew heart-sick with care,
• I would break, some morn, - in my singing,
Or faiT•ln my springing walk, - •
As a full-blowri flower will sometimes -
Droriall abloom from the
" So, In my youth's glad morning,
While the summer walks abroad,
•• I would like to hear the sun/Mons
That must cume, Some time, from (lat. -
Iwould pass 'from the earth's perfection
T 9 the endless June above, „
:From the•fullness of. /lying and loving
To the noon Of immortal love. •
—Ella Whetter, in the later-Ocean.
MISCELLANY IN BRIEF.
SIGNIFICANCE OP POETS' NAMES
What a rough man said to his son
when he. wanted him to .eat—Chau
cer.
.
A lion's ,house on the side of the
hill where there, is no water—Dry.
den. ' -
Many, pilgrims. and ilatterers have
knelt lov -to kiss him—Pope.
Makes and mends Itir first-class
customers—Taylor.
Represents the dwellers in civiliz
ed countries:—Holmes.
A kind of linen—Holland.
Can be mini on the head—Hood.
One name that means such"hery
things, I can't 'describe its pains atici
stings—Burns. • .
Belongs to monastery—Abbcitt.
Not one of : the points of the corn,
pass, toward one of
them—Southey. ..
. What - an oj;ster heap is apt to be—:
Shelly.
Always youthful .you - -see but be
tween you. and me never much of a
ainerican manufacturing town
--Losell. •
Hunch-back but not deformed—
A:ten-footer, whose name begins.
with fifty—Longfellow.
A worker in precious metal—Gold
smith.
A vital part of the bOdy—llart.
A lady's garment—Spencer. • -
Small talk and heaVy weight--
ChattertOn. .
A diSagreeable fellow to have on
one's foot—Bunvon.
A maptitatured metal—Steele
• 'An to Which is the greatest poet,
William ,Shakspere or Martin Tup
per.?"—Willis (Will. is.)
Meat,' what are you doing ?
Browning.:
Red as an,aPple; black .as night, a
heavenly sign or a perfect fright.—
Crabbe.
A' domestic worker=tOok.
A ; Siang .exclamation—Dickens.
Midi away clOsely, • never scatter
and 'doing so you may get at her—
Stowe. , •
young domestic animal—Lanib.
One who is more than a sandy
shore—Beecher-,
A girl's name and male - relation--
Addison.
• Put :in edible grain twist an aunt
and 'a bee, and:a 'ucuch loved poet
you will plainly seeJ4ryant.
A common domesti animal, and
what be cannot do-Cowper.
Each human head is time; 'tiS
will turn to him though he is dead,:-
Gray. • ' . _
A barrier built of an edible—Corn.
well. • • , •
Coines from an unlearned pig—
Bacon. .
•
A:oam and a dis6ase—Datniney
—Albany Press. -
POOR ITDO.
As She Stepped on the platform of
the outgoing train the other evening,
with her.!illow-white, poodle hid affec
tionatelyin her arms, she looked the
persdniticatien Of independent. prim
ness and starchy dignity. She. was
entering-the smoking`ear, when the
timid conductor remaried that gen
tlemen usually:smoked in that car.
" I guess none of 'em 'll dare while
I'm around," she replied confidently,
as she walked in. She was the • sole
oocupant until just as the train, was
about 'to move off, when a \Vest Side
young Man, Henry F., came in and
took a scat just behind her. On be-:
•ing assured he was in the right car
he dt;cw a fragrant . from his vest
pocket . and lit it for a comfortable
smoke. After . puiling leisurely for a
mothent - or. so .he was holding the
weed between. linger and thumb' and .
gazing idly out of the window when
4,he dignified lady turned. about, and,
taking the cigar from his Sand, pitch
-0 it out of the window', remarking
' If there's anything I detest4ad de
pise it's to see a man. smoking."
. IleiirV seemed somewhat surprised,
, Ipened hiS - eyes a little wider, but
oeing very polite, though a bit
.of a
joker himself, he said nothing. In a
little time' after 'Miss Frim . took Fido
on the scat beside.. her. for a frolic,
first looking about, to see that the
conductor was.notnear. Henry, no
ticing the pup out of the lady's affec-.
donate arms, seized him' gently but
quickly and let him drop out of :the
window, carelessly remarking,. "If
there is anything _l' despise it - is to
see a woman-kissing a
,poodle dog:"
, It was only through the combined
:efforts of theL.Conductor and4wo pas.,
sengers wholjust then entered that
the conglomeration of hair,. fingers
and female were separated -from the
poor young , man. . • -
"IT is not all of death to die," sang
the poet. He was 'right. The greatest
part of death—aboilt, ninety-eight out of
a possible hundred— is •to leave you
in such shape . that your children will.
got, nearly a's much of it as the lawyers.
5 5.031 E to stay--The corset manafao•
'I'm:RE is no help for it, the moon Ia
Dian.
Tun old man of the sea was' an ocean
buoy once.'
TioNiNzis are getting larger in anticpa
tion of the theatre season.. --
TnEign is no vine that contributes more
sustenance to man than the the bovine.
Tin: flower named "bachelor's button"
is so Called_ because it is apt to fall off.
A nu; headls no more an 'evidence.-of
brains than a paper Collar , is of a shirt! •
No matter how well a horse - can lope, -
he never can be taught to cantalopd.
WirEzze of fortune uphold the cars- of
well-paying railroad companies. • -
Ix his historic ride from Boston town
Paul Revere bestrode a nightmare.
NOWADAYS the gateway. to Justice is
too often obstructed by an investigation.
EVERY tyro of a school-girl can distin- -
guish between graudmar and grammar.,'
WHEN there is a count about, marriage
able Americanzirls want to be counted in:
TuE duty of the - hour is to mind your
own business, and not your neighbor's
baby.
ORATOLIS who wish to strengthen their
voices during the fall-campaign Should
eat
_onions.
NUMBER 24
T.oeliang6 window-glass to tin—leave
the window open when it...rains, and it will
beat in. .
• , • - . '
Jtlit9EY lightning has. destroyed the
honest insulation of-many a railroad con
-duttor. '
THE more clam's are eaten, the faster
they grow. They are clamorous for con
summation.
A Nomy assemblage' ' where all shoni, at
once, may properly be styled
. a clamor
chowder, • •
A wAo being - a:Wed if - there-Was much
jewelry visible' at Manhattan now; re.
plied, " 0-nyx."
Can'do nothing. to aid the
unfortunute individuals who are weak in
their mind's eye.
IF you are ambitious to move In the
highest circles', - joinithe next expedition
to-the Arctic circles.
- WitY is a young lady. dependent, upon
the letter 7 ? Because" without it she
would be a youn4 lad.
TEie pedantic I fellow who-,is. forever
pointing out mistakes in . giartimar is al
ways in the. indicative
Pious persons sometimes neglect the
church-pates, but never the pie-plates.
They cannot forget their piety.
No coroner has ever yet: heldan-inquest ,
over an American citizen of African de
scent drowned in a waterndlon.
- A TOWS in the Western apart of New -
York has a woman underta'ker.' She coin_
plains bitterly of the fickleness of the op
posite. sex. -
A MAN who, habitually treats - other
menls wives more politely than ho does
his own, will have to pay cash in idvanes
at this office, -
- - •
•
A TRANIP who was recently found lock
ed.in a freight car, on heing7chafged with.
vagrancy, - denied it on the gtound that he
was a car-pent-er. .
IT is better to be caught out in a-thun
der-shower with another man's - umbrella
than to be -caught in an ice-cream saloOtt
with another - man's wife. "
'3l,tx is a.- contrary creature at best.
People who have not the slightest trouble
to make ,both ends ineet always . have fish the front end - of their dinners.
NONE of England's 'writers sof naval
songs ever - invoked the Muse on. behalf-of
the cat-o'-nine-tails: That allegorical
nautical creature mews for herself..
"How are you off for funds to-day?"
asked a collector of
,an impecunious,
though classical, debtor. "I am semper
idem7-•always the sani . e,. emphatica lly'' change. l -
.•
'WHEN Pete stoic a suit of - clothes and,
kot kao.a neighboring. State before heWaSt
arrested; he explained that it was only
joke. Put the ofticers - declared- that he' •
had carried-it too.
TILE pluxitp, nice looking spring_ chick
ens that are. allowed to roam about the
lawns in the; vicinity of sea-side hotels aro
merely walking advertisements. They are.
not intended for table use:
.
" WitaT Soup is this, - waiter_?", asked
the diner. "Ox tail," responded the nap
kined knight,' "All right," said the hun
gry ore, pushing away the dinner roll,
unA let's have the bread stale.";
Stir.:says she used to be quite.ca.. belle,
. ud had scores of adtbirers who deClared
that.they were willing to "die - foil. Ifor,"
but iiince she commenced buSities.i not
one liad been as good as his word. r
;.t. l s•ro.Niku : "What do you think of
th& Bishop's sermon ~last Sunday, Mr.
Wigspy Hairdresser: "Nell, really,
sir, there was a gent a gittin' in front 0'
me' as lad his 'air parted that crooked
that I couldn't 'ear a word." •
"THERE is a belief, sir, that .free or
ders to the theatre are a modern custom,
but I think it must be admitted that it
was an ancient one, when we_ remember
that Joseph was•put into the pit for noth
ing by his brethren." I,
WREN is a married man a bird? When
he comes home at.tfo A. u. P. S.—For
the benefit of bachelorg (it not brine ne
cessary for the married faction) We ex
plain.that when a man comeshome at the
hour.nhnied his wife makes him quail.
"3l MA, I don't think the people who
make : dung are very pious people, said a
little girl to her mother one day. " Why
not; my child?" "Becauge you "can ne
ver make them kneel. I always have to
lay my doll on 11pr:stomach. to say her,
'prayers." -
FUN, - 110 T AND PAOETIS;
IF wonians'-rights had had any show in
the-early morning of the history of the
human family, we might now know some:
thing of Mrs. Noah's housekeeping in the
Ark, what she had for dinner on Sundays;
and how she got on with her daughters : .
-in-law.
AFTER BE.tCONSFIELD gets the Zulu,''
war off his hands, he is going - to giveihis
attention tathe proposition to establiska
colony of milktiaids on the Isle of Cowes..
The sun never sets on British statesniatk..:
ship, and Gladstone's gtunibling circles •
the globe. "
A tot - No Parisian lady, l
after being re
lieved of a tormenting tooth, laid , `down
ten francs in payment. Looking at the
fee cOntemptuouslY, the dentiA, - asked "if
that was for his servant. "No, sir," re
sponded Madame, with a sweet'sme,'" it
is for both.,,of you." -
A country' woman stopped, some ten
niinutes- in front of a stern the other day
to gaze at a patent ily- trap in operation,
which was' pretty well filled, and after
studying the placard, s;.i ' .intbutly, moved .
ion, after piping out, t. 9 the - great Amuse
ment of the bystanders : Tew dollarsi
I wouldn't give two cents for all the flies
in Boston."
A GATE §,TORY..--=‘' Serena, .dar
ling," he mnrmured nd the old
gate scarcely. creaked as it swung - to',
and fro beneath her, lightweight, and.
the silent stars looked down with
tenderer glances;"and all South Hill
seemed to" hold its breath to listen."
" Serena, s-weet,"
_he said, and the
radiant-blushes that - kindled
. over the
pearly broW l anCcheeks, softened the
silent lovelightin..cher luStrous eyes.
" Serena, my owii44 . -if every glittering
star that teams above, iT every pass
ing breeze that stops W.-kiss thy' -
glowing cheek;.if every rustling leaf
that whispers to ithe night were liv
ing, burning, JoVing thoughts; if
every—Oh-h-ho-ho! Ow-w.! Wow=
ow ! Aw-w; oh, "oh, oh! • Oh, jiminY.‘
pelt! Oh; glory ! 011,.mtirder,Mur
der,, Murder Oh, dad rang the
swizzled old gate to the, bow wows!
Ah-h-h-h!" And she i slid,.stilllyi that;
no 'gentleman who could .use such
language-in the presence= of a lady
was an aurnaintance of hers, and she
went into the .house. And he pushed
the gate open . and pulled his mangled
thumb out of the crack of it, and:
went down the street - sucking-the in
jured
.member and declaring that,
however' lightly • one • hundred and
sixty--five pounds of girl might sit on
the heart of a man, it was a little too
much pressure when applied to an
impromptu thumbserew.-._ And the,
match is drawn, and all side bets are
declared off.'