Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, March 04, 1880, Image 1

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    TWINS OP PIIIIILICATIOZ.
The BaaniranD BaroitTat Is published %Mel
Thursday morning by 000DRICII & HISCIICOCZ,
at One Dollar per annum, in advance. .
_-
—Advertising In all cases °keratin of sub•
scrlptlonlo the paper.
SPECIAL NOTlCESinsetted at glee Cain% per
line for drat insertion, and ?mac enTS per linelor
each subsequent insertion but no notice inserted
for less than fifty cents.
YEARLY ADVERTISEMENTS will be Insert
ed at reasonable rates.
Administrator's and Executor's Notices,' .11;
Auditor's Nottees,o.so ; BUSIVI6SS Cards, Avenues ;
' (per year) I% additional lines each.
Yearly advertiser} are entitled to quarterly
changes. -Transientadvertisements must.. be paid
for in advanes.. , ? di
All resolutions Or iissoetstions; eomMitdcations
of limited or individual Interest, and notices of
marriages or deaths, exceeding avenues are chug
rid 'Prins c cars per line, but simple notices of mar.
.riages and de Wm-will be published without charge.
The Rarouvira having a larger circulation than
any other paper In the county, mates it the best
advertising medium in Northern Pennsylvania.
JOB PRINTING of every kind, in plan and
fancy colors, done with neatness and dispatch.
Handbills, Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, Billheads.
Biatements, &c., of every variety and style, printed
at the shortest notice. The IitErOUTILU °Bice is
well supplied taith power presses, a good assort
ment of new type, and everything In -the printing
line can be executed in the moat artistic manner
and at the lowest rates. TERMS INVARIABLY
"CAsil.
73nsittesS garbs.,
JOHN W. COpDING,
ATTONN EY-Alt-LAW, TOWANDA • PA
Office over Mason's old Bank
THOMAS E. MYER
ATTORNST-AT-LAW,
d
TOWANDA, PA
Office with Patrick and Foyle
PECK dr, OVERTON
ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW,
TOWANDA; PA.
D'A. OVERTON, BENJ. M. MECE.
T 1 ODNEY A. MERCUR,
•
ATTORNEY AT-LAW,
TOW AN DA,T A.,
Solicitor of Patents. Particular attention paid
to business In the Orphans court and to the settle•
merit of estates.
office to Montanyes Block SiWr 1,'99.
OVERTON & SANDERSON,
A TTOTIN E7-AT-LAW,
TOWANDA, PA-
ovEnioN..lie
-ITT .
• 11. JESSUI',
ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR-AT-LAN 4 ,
MONTItcYSE, PA.
.111,1ge .leasup baring resumed the practleeof the
law nt Nzultiern Pennsylvania, will attend to any
legal tavilue, Intrurled to him In Bradford county.
Pcrsoui wl•lttng.: to conmlt Mtn, can call on H.
Streeter. Esq.. Towanda, Pa., when an appointment
eat, he made
HENRY STREETER,
.kTTOILNEY AND COCNSELLOU-AT-LAW,
TOW ANDA,,PA
TT L. TOWNER, M. D.,
/1.):11 El tPATIIIC PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
111„.1tesidenen and Office just 'North of Dr. Cor
bin., oil Main , treet, Athens, Pa. 1.111.26-6/11.
1 4 1 L. 111,LLIS.,-
ATTMIN RV-AT-LAW,
T.OWA7s;DA, PA.
71 4 1 4 F. GOFF, t
I .
A TTO N EY-A T -L ANT,
WYALUSING, PA
.4f:envy for the sale and purchase of all kinds of
Nocut itles and for nlideng loans on Real Estate.
Ail business will reV •Ivu careful and prompt
attention. i (dune 4, 1579.
yr H., THO)II I SON, ATTORNEY
e' Vr. LAW, WY A LUF.I Nll, PA. , Will attend
to, all Itusint-s4 entrusted to Ills care In Bradford,
Stillivau and ZSpuwing Counties. °Mee with Esq.
Porter. tnoTl9-74.
11. ANGLE, D. D. S
4
~J•
OPERATIVE AND SIEOIANICAI. DENTIST
uLrc on State Street, second floor of Dr. Pratt's
apr 3
IBM
ELSBREE & SON,
ATTORNEYS-Ai-LAW,
TOWANDA, PA.
N. C. EIMIRES
(I, D: KINNEY,
A TTOTtti EY- AW.
Ottlee—ROOMS formerly occupied by Y. M. C. A
Reading Liam3lll4.
McPIIERSON,
ID!
ATTORNEY -Ai -LAW,
TOWA NDA,
Dirt itry Brad. Co
'T ORN W. Mix,
ATTOILNEX-AT-LAW AND V. S. COMMISSiONXIt,
ToWANDA, PA.
otlice=Nortli Side Public square
ItM W. BUC
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW
TOIV-4. I 7.DA,,PESS'A
Otnee- s —Sontll stile Poplar street, opposite Ward
. [Nov. 13, 11,78.
DAVIES & CARNOCILAN,
ATTOP.VEYS-AT-LAW, •
SOUTH S TO; OF WAFD itorsr
D.c
TOWANDA. PA
ANDREWWILT,
KM
=
0113 Ce over Turlier 3: ilordon's Drug Store,
Towanda, Pa. May 1.. e consulted In derma!).
[AprII 12,':6.)
W. J. YOUNG,
• ATTORN 1:1 - -A74.A W.
TOWAN DA. PA.
fluir7—.o,ond door souttil of the First N - uPunsl
Back Stan St., up staid.
MEMN
ATToit E7"S-AT-LAN
iq'FlCF..—Forrnerly occupied Wm. Witkius,
V
I=llEiE=MEll=!
=
MAXWELL,
ATTOC\hY-.
TO*A N DA, PA.
oftiee nveribnyton's Store
A prll 12, I A 76
ADILL & CALIFF,
It • •
ATTORNEI'S-AT-LAW.
TtiWANDA, PA
Offlre In WxM•s 131,pek, flr't door - muttli of the first
Nu: 1 r 1 hank. up,lal6.
H. .1. rJanS-731y) .1. N. CALIFF.
- EAR. S. M. WOODBURN, Physi
i.Y ctan and Surgeon. Office over 0. A. Black's
er.wk. 11' store.
1 "%an la, May 1,-18721y...
-NAT B. ELLA', DENTIST.—OftIee
Over M. E. Itosenflold's, Towanda, Pa.
Rubber, and Al
unuount luso. Teeth estraeted without 1411 D.
I, n. PA YNE, M. D., • .
-4. I . IITAICIAN ANC. SUltnllo2lt.
I.ty,t o over.Moattin et,' Store. (116 e liours from 10
to 12 A. %1.. and Irotn 2 tO 4 P. U.
zweelal attention ON en to
DI , EASEs 0 DISEASES
and j Or
THE EYE /THE EAR
Nj•
•
W. RYAN,
COUNTY SUPERINTENDIt
Rice (lay last Saturday of each month. river, Tuatigi
& GorlloWs Drug 'Store, Towanda, I.
Towanda, June 1978
INI Rs. It. PEET,
T C E. II OF PIANO
TF.R.11: 4 .-410 per term.
(Residenei... Third street, Ist ward.)
Towanda, Jan. ta,'79-Iy.
II S. RUSSELL'S
Vie
GENERAL
INSURANCE AGENCY
May2x•7ott. TOWANDA. PA.
FIRST NATIONAL BANK, •
TOW AN DA, PA
CAPITAL PAID IN
SURPLUS rusia..
This Bank utters unusual for the trans
action of a geuerarbauklug ',unities&
JOS. POWEI.T., President
EDWARD WILLIAMS,
PRACTICAL PLUMBER et. GAS FITTER
Plase of busliless 1n 3lercnr Block. next' door lto
Joutplof Oitee, opposite Pubic Square.
l'inuMing, Gas Fitting, Repairing Pumps or ati
t -nds, and all kind' of Gearing promptly attended
1.. All wanting work in Ida line should give hlni
- 1. all,
...1 Mc. 4. le7e.
GOODRICH & HITCHCOCK I . Publishers. ,
VOLUME XL. TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PL, THURSDAY MORNING, MARCH 4, 1880.
4 •
•
BALLAD OF THE WORN-OUT SHOE.
This Is the tale of the warn-oat ehoe.T.
A tale ever told and a tale ever new.
This shoe belonged to a little girl
With a sparkling eye ands golden earl,
Aud she was wont with a smile to come
With this worn-out shoe to. John Stetenson.
Stevenson, John, war a cobbler bold,
And be hoarded this shoe like beaten gold;
'And when she came—as she did 'its true—
It was " Please Walt for a day or two."
5ep.25,19
Oh, tie, John! as you peg and sew,
To treat,a fair young lady sol
for she Trent away and she came again
And the story was ever and always the SIM
John worked away with a Studious face,
And pondered mudh on the handsome grace
Of the fair little girl, and bed no heart
To mend the shoe, so the two could part.
So John toekhls time on the worn-out shoe,
(It never was Mended, 'twtxt me and pout
And counted the momenta until she came,
And softly spoke to himself her name.
And often and , often she came, so that
She used to btzi for a while and chat.
And once a customer - swore on a keg
Ile'd seen John teaching her bow to peg
flu this as It may l!caa but tell
That John Into love moat deeply tell;
But he had more courage to take his life
Than to ask the lady to be his wife.
Joils F. SANDEiSON
For she was-ralsed In the finest schools,
lid he was raised to his cobbler's tools;
But stilt she came with her beautiful face,
And made hum a mad In his leathery• place
'Awl he Axed a store for her sake alone, •
And he Axed himself with a brustiand comb,
And he learned to sell and he learned to buy,
For the sake of thelltel with the laughinreje
John, the cobbler, wasnow'no more—
'Mr. "John Stevenson" graced the dock:—
But the lady never the store carne near,
And John was sad and the place was dresr
MITRED
"What tills the lady f thought John at last, ,
At he 'saw her face as It hurried past;
Pertiatis i she has found whom she sood:wlit wed,"
And then - John Stevenson bowed bls head.
Lang were the days till she came again,
And u hen she 'came sheiwas wet with rain ;
"If you please," she said, " Mr. Stevenson,
I will take my shoe if you have It done."
rpovll-75
Ile sadly toot down the worn little shoe.
A fid..hrushed the dust on his waistcoat new,
And stimothed It tenderly, and looked down
on the golden,hair Just tinning brown.
And John, he thought, as he stood there then,
If they should part and not meet again,
He would fee, worse in his splendid store
Than when a cobbler two years before.
As Ile stood there thinhlng, the worn-out shoe
Felon the counter lutween the taro,
And she took It up In her little hand,
•• Dear me. It Is almost too poor to mend.••
•• True." said John. "let me give you a pair
That are, strong and Mont and certain to wear."
No, no!" she said, lu a frightened way,
•• 1 cannot buy any shoes totilay."
And then, as She lifted her hands be saw
That her gown was faded, her linger raw ;
That her little lip quivered with fright or fear,
And In her eye [hire glistened a tear.
This was too much for John Stevenson,
And down .n the 'counter the shoes he flung,
And Into his arms he folded the girl
With the faded gown and the golden curl.
L. ELssnEs
••NO'l no,'• she cried, as 5166 struggled wild,
I'm poor, !dr. Stevenson, poor as a child,
We lost all we had—we are rich no more—
And now 1 tnnsi earn what 1 scorned before."
Then John; with the grace of a knight of old,
Asked for the story—tne story was told—
• The story of Fortune allover the town,
Of hissolng up and her going down:
t feb.l'7B
t
And while she spoke, with an absent air
She eevered the shoe with her hand sO fair,
And lie, In a manner slow• and still,
Placed his on hers—ah, that magic thrill!
Jan. 1,1875
Aud,then when the story was done and told,
Joni, with a manlier quite wanly and bold,
D ee ;wed he v. 0111,1 give her shoes for life
In ex.eliange for the and herself—as wife
And then John found What he ne'er had lost,
And bought the shoe at a willing cost,
And lifted his face with a happyglow,
From the golden hair,on Ills vest bell. .
• •
l'pron the shelf there Is stored away
AttOld worn shoe to this very day.
A add the &toes s that are great and fine,
It stands Ilke the ghost of an olden Unt.
Inv toes i nre out and Its heels are down,
The tongues are lostand the leather is brown,
But often still i.hetween me and you,)
Two hands rest lightly ur on that shoe.
A GREAT TEMPTATION.
Mr. Vaughan,or Squire Vaughan, ot
Barclay Manor, was a man of high
degree in his county—a magistrate
and lord lieutenant. Not only by
virtue of his position was he respect
ed, but by reason of his many virtues '
•
above all, his high-souled honor and
integrity.
...$11113,000
... 66;000
N. N. BETTS, Cashier
Aril 1. 187.9
1111
Nadi r .
selected F:afr.
CHAPTER. I
Mr. Vaughan had been originally a
solicitor, but on the death of Con
stable Vaughan, a - stern old uncle,
whom he had scarcely ever seen,- he
found himself by will the universal
legatee of a noble property, with a
large unincutnbered rent roll. Cuth
bert Vaughan was not a very ambh.
tions man, but the alinost unexpect
ed selection of himself as possessor
of the Barclay Manor estates was
necessarily a source of satisfaction.
But chiefly was it so for the sake of
his daughter Miriam—a girl of noble
qualities, which had been restricted
in a more humble sphere, but found
ample play in 'the region to which
she was, now elevated. She, was a
' very beautiful girl, rather tall and
slim, arid remarkable for her elegance
or manner and speech. Her tastes
were eminently artistic and literary,
and her drawings were the admira
tion of her whole circle, while it was
more than suspected she wrote for the
magazines. But she was without any
excessive pride, and as .affnble and
agreeable as she was charitable and
devoted in her intercourse with the
poor.
The Manor house was a large and
rather rambling building, furnished
in excellent taste, and having a noble
Ilibraiy as well as a picture gallery.
,The father and daughter had "been
tourlYears in possession, the latter
being now nineteen years of age; and
both were already exceedingly popu
lar in the county.
'The Squire bad determined a few
days before to clear out some lumber
rooms and get rid of a lot of rubbish
which had accumulated during some
twenty years, and which was gradu
ally becoming a nuisance. Father
and' (laughter were in the picture
, gallery, looking at the portraits of
their ancestors, and enjoying. as they
walked the cool breeze from the park,
when the butler entered with a work
man bearing a picture.
he
"Sir," said_ the butler, "we have
found this portrait in the lumber room,
and as it clearly is a - family likeness,
we have biought it here to know
what is to be done with
The picture was at the same moment
rested on a chair, and Mr. and Miss
Vaughan examined it. Both strange.
ly enough felt a little shiver as they
saw that handsome face, with the
weak mouth and wicked eyes, which
seemed to pierce the very marrow-of
their bones.
"You donl know who it is?" ask
ed the Squire.
"No, sir,"
replied the butler; "but
I dare say Mrs. Graves. will."
"Seed for her at once," Was the
command. •
' A few .mintites later 'the -house
keeper entered, a staid woman of
sixty. still active, with white hair
and a very dignified aspect. At the
sight of the - portrait she turned pile,
and withn deep sigh she fell upon a
seat.
" You are agitated,eMrs. Graves,"
said the Squire kindly.
" Yes, sir, pardon me, but the sight
of that picture unnerves me. It is
the portrait of Mr. Coxstable's only
son," she faltered. -
" Why put it in the lumber room ?"
continued the squire gravely.
"Ah air, it's , the old story,"• she
answered. " He was wilful, and loved
where his father wished him not.
Both were self-willed and obstinate,
and they separated. Young Mr.
Constable went away, and never was
seen again. The 'father ordered the
picture to the lumber loom, and then
never mentioned his name again."
" Put it upon the vacant space yon
der," said the Squire, quietly.
Where it was taken from ?" cried
the woman, who had been thirty years
in the family service. ,
" And, sir," the butler went on,
" there was this bundle of papers be
side the picture. What shall I do
with them ?"
" Take them ,to my study," observ
ed the Squire ; " I will examine them
by-and-bye. And now, Miriam, to
luncheon."
They went down, thinking of the
stern old man who had sacrificed his
son to a whim, or at best a bitter pride,
and wondering how different matters
might have been but for this estrange
ment.
"Miriam," said the father, when
they were alone, "I feel as if we were
very much like usurpers and inter - -
topers."
• "How so ?" asked his daughter, in
a tone of surprise.
" Suppose this young Constable
left children or a child ? He or they
are the rightful heirs," he remarked
thoughtfully.
" But surely something wonld.have
,been heard of them," she urged.
" That man whose portrait we have
just seen was both weak and, ob
stinate," was her father's response,
"" and • would, after a quarrel, have
kept doggedly aloof from his father."
"What, then, would you do ?"lask.
ed Miriam. •
"The estate has been left to gaipf
the free will of the late Constable
Vaughan," he said,:" and is ours, but
we are so rich thSt, should there — be
any direct'heirs, it is our duty to"find
them and compenSate all to the full
extent in our power for their
_great
loss."
" Certainly, papa," she cried, "that
is spoken like your own generous and.
noble self. How
,will you: act ?"
" I will see the solicitor to-day,".
he-said, "and cause the most search-,
ing -inquiries to be made."
And, after some further conversaA
tion, the subject dropped, and st' the
end - ot the meal the Squire went out
and rode to the county town, where
the firm of solicitors he wished to
consult resided. In the evening,
after, Tdinner, the subject was resumed.
" Have you any news asked
Miriam, noticing that her father was
very serious..
" yes, Constable Vaughan married
two and twenty years ago a lady of
some family but no means. The
marriage was clandestine, and was
only discovered when a chila was
born. Then came the explosion, and
the young man went away to be heard
of no more directly. The solicitors,
knowing that he' was still tie heir,
kept him in sight for some time; but
for many years-no tidin g s have qome,
and it is believed helsdead."
"Rut they are not sure, papa?" said
Miriam
" No; and I hive ordered them to
follow up the trace at no matter what'
cost, my dear," said the proud father:
" Right ,must be done."
" Right must be done," she replied,
in a dreainy kind of way.
Later on in the evening, some
young lady friends coming in Mr.'
Vaughan retired to his study to
-smoke, and as be seated himself in
his cosy arm chair and his pint; of
wine close to his band, observed the
parcel of papers. Taking out his
penknife he opened the package, and
saw at once that they contained legal
documents. Putting on his spectacles,
he began to examine'them.
'There were old leases,
and then, in
a'small parcel tied with black silk, , ;
he found the certificate of young -
Constable's birth, and also that of
his marriage, with that of his baby
boy, Charles Constable Vaughan.
" The disinherited heir, had he
lived," said Mr. - Vaughan, aloud.
" Well, if he is alive, we will And
+dm, and with the . wealth f have at
my disposal it will go hard if I can
not make up -in the:,same way for, hii
loss."
' He now took up another document,
at sight of which he trembled violent
ly, so violently that he could , scarce
ly undo the fastenings. What was
it that made him stare so wildly at
this harmless bit of parchment?
He had read these words: "Deed
of entail." Slowly he opened the
lirge leg al document, and at once
plunged into it. With white face
and quivering lip he read it from be.
ginnirig to end.
"Merciful Heaven 1" be said at
last, " if there is a livibg heir, We are
no better oil •n we were five years
ago. Old I . : table dad no power
to will their hit:llo3es •
heirs male witfiont r , idients:.;
tion."
Cuthbert Vaugbaq
~ 1
1 REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER.
man, but the possible prospect before
him was a terrible one. Four years
of possession had Made him not only
love the old place, but luring that
time he had acquired habits of luxury
and ease which it would be hard to
give up. He glanced at the docu
ments, the lamp, the empty fireplace,
and knei how much depended on a
quarter of an hour's blaze.
As the suggestion arose in 1 in
most mind, he rose sternly, rank the
bell and . sent for his daughter.
When Miriam entered the study,
he:handed her a chair, and in very
brief words told her the .facts of . his
dicovery. •
paria," she answered, not
knowing, in her ignorance of the law,
the full force of his meanina " what
then ?" '
a good
• " My child, if there be a male heir
nearer than myself we must give up
all and go back to our old life at
Brompton. There may be no living
male heir, but if there is, and my re
searches find him, we must retire in
his favor, unleiis—"
"Unless what, father?" she asked.
" Unless we. , now • destroy -these
documents, which alone prove his
rights and invalidate the will."
" Rather die," she said. " No,
father! As you said before, let justice
be done.. I would not hold one penny
through fraud."
".You are right. I will see the
solicitorsto-morrow, and move heaven
. and earth to find. him:" •
On the. following morning Mr.
Vaughan rode over and stated his.
case to the lawyers, handing them all
the documents' found in so strange
and unexpected manner. They,look
ed at him in unfeigned admiration.
"This i 4 :a most serious matter,"
'observed the elder partner,'-" for.be-
tween out selves, I knew of the pre
vious- existence Of this document,
which, 'however, I believed to-be de
stroyed. Of course, should the heir
be found s it plates you, in a most
awkward position." .
" How so ?" asked Mr. Vaughan.
"You will have to give up posses
sion. But if, before producing this
document, you 'come to learn—" sug
gested the lawyer.
" No ; let - there be justice," replied
the Squire. "Do your duty and I
will-do mine."
Both gentlemen shook their, client
heartily by the hand, and then, by
his instructions, sent off •-a special
messenger to Paris. He:was abSent
a week,-and the following telegram
came:
• " The heir ,is folind. There is no
doubt of his identity. He is a rather
harum-scarum student in art, very
poor, but without any of the vices of
his class. There . is the making of a
sterling Englishman in him when
away from his wild associates, Ile
_will come over in a few days. He
begs you say where you are."
It must be said that both father
and daughter felt easier, and prepar
ed at once for departure. The law
yer begged them to remain until the
new heir came over, but they refused.
They wished to slip awr.y-unobserv
' ed. The laWyer urged them to re
movemany things they bad purchas
ed, such as piano, harp and other
things.
"Nothing," said Miriam, proudly;,
- "nothing here belongs to us—we are,
usurpers." '
On the morning of their intended,
departure there came a letter from,
the heir, begging his cousin to make,
Barclay Manor his residence until,
other arrangements might be made.
"If you leave," he said;," you will
make me feel very unhappy and
small."
CHAPTER 11.
When Charles Constable Vaughan,
lifter announcing his marriage and
birth of a son to his engaged parent,
was ordered out-of the house, he
swore a furious oath never to cross
the threshold of the dcior again; ex
cept as master.
He had a small income from his
mother, and with this lie emigrated
to Boaloane, where for.some time he
lived the life of a Bohemian. Then,
influenced by his wife.
,a very talent
ed woman, the -daughter of a clergy
man, he went. to Paris, where both
were able largely to add to their in
come by teaching music and drawing.
When their only son and child was
eighteen, both were dead, leaving
him to the mercies of the world' with
about a hundred a year, and at the
I same time with every_ document to
prove his descent. But the young
artist looked upon • the estate loom
ing in the distance as a myth, and
never thought anything more about
it. He heard soon after of his grand
father's death, of his will, leaving all
to Cuthbert Vaughan, and shrugging
his shoulders went on with his work.
He was.under the cate.and guard.
ianship'of an old French teacher, a
very clever, eccentric painter, who
w.ts deeply attached to him. , The
man was a regular Bohemian and
delighted in artist life. But he was
a man :who worked, and kept his
pupil at work.
It was when Charles was nearly
tweuty•one, during a slack season,
that we resume our 'narrative. M.
Gerard had been very ill, though now
he was getting better. But his ill
ness had been expensive, and his
convalescence promised to be more
so, and Charles had spent his very
last sou. They lived in two small
rooms adjacent to their studio, and
Charles was just putting on his hat
to go out.--
"It is our last chance," he said,
" I will try the bankers. I will not'
be long—not more than an hour." .
Butimany hours came, night passed,
and still Char:es Constable Vaughan
did not return.
" I hope no harm has happened to
him," said the old painter, with a
sigh, forgetting his own sufferings in
his anxiety.
Vaughan had gone out doggedly
to the bankers, with his bat over his
eyes and , his hands in his .poeket.
lie was doing that which his soul
rebelled against. Ile had a belief
that be was doing his duty, but firm.
ly believed that he' should be met
with a refusal. Bu 'how to open the
enblect. tr bow to ex use a t . the first
blush his presene4 Wellx he would
• I:. 1 rb.,'
affect to expect a letter. This would
give him an excuse for backing out
at the last mcment. With this harm
less subterfuge, therefore, he entered
boldly..
"I suppose, " he said to the urbane
clerk, " you ave not got any letters
for me?"
"Yes, sir; one has.lbeen here for
two days, but as we did not. know
Your address, we kept it for you,"
was the unexpected reply, , and the
epistle was handed to him.
It, was addressed to "Charles Con=
stable Vaughan, Esq., immediate and
important." The young man stared
With a look of perfect bewilderment,
and after saying a word to the clerk,
seated himself and read :
"Sin—l wish to see you at, once
lon business of the most vital import
ance, and hope to be favored with a
call. I shall keep in all day, hoping
that you will favor me at your earli
est convenience.
" Edward Leigh, - for ;Messrs. Fox
and Sharp."
".Thank you," said Constable, ut-
Iterly forgetting his errand, and - hur
ried out in the direction of Meurice's.
He found a very polite, middle
aged gentleman, who received him
with great courtesy. After some few
words he said :
"I presume there can be no dim
lenity about proving your identity ?"
"..My bankers have paid me the
interest on my little property for
foul, years," replied' Charles, in be
wildered tones; " but here," taking
out a pOelietbook, " I have the copies
of my father's certificate of birth, his
marriage, and my certificate."
The lawyer examined them meth
odically.
" Sir allow me to congratulate you
on being the owner of nine thoiisand
a year, and as fine a property as any
in the west of England. But you
are faint, sir. Wine "—after a viol
ent ring—"wine at once !"
No more," said Constable faint
ly. " I have been without food too
long to drink." ' •
The amazed lawyer at once order
ed an improvised dinner, and then
proceeded to explain everything.
" So you see, sir, you have been
owner for four years, but from no
fault of these people. Few persons--
ahem 1". he added.
" Would have behaved so nobly,"
he cried, listening in a daze.. " I can
scarcely believe my own good; for
tune, or that 'girl's generous self-de
nial. -It was a great temptation."
`Vies, sir, bravely overcome. And
now to 6linner. You can give 'me
your instructions after."
Constable ate and drank in a
dream' and dictated -letters in a
dream, bui; at last ; he awoke to re
ality. •
"I had forgotten," he said wildly.
"I must be going. I will. see - you
to-morrow."
" I have no check book," observed
the lawyer, "but if a hundred pounds
in cash i 8 of-any use"l
Constable shook hirn heartily by
the hand, took the ! money,- and
"burning the iiavenient," as the
French say, in a fiacre soon reached
his old friend's lodging.: Ills . first
act was to toss the money on the
table, and then to bawl at the con
cierge to go for everything his friend
required.
After seeing him partake of , a suc
culent meal, he told his story to the
amazed Bohemian.
"There is only
. one thing," said
M. Gerard later in the evening—"J
am sorry to part—"
" Part I Never ! l ou shall come and
establish yourself in London, paint
my portrait, my wife's portaait, my
children'sall my friends portraits."
And BO it liapened a week later
the young heir of Barclay Manor
started fOr England, in company
with the• lawyer and the delighted
painter. ' When he reached his home
he found a kind, but proud note from
Miriam, declining certain splendid
offers he made, and intimating that
their course in life must. in future be
apart.
When Mr. Vaughan sold his prac-
tice for a small sum, he invested it.
with a laughing remark, that it would
do for a rainy day, which be never
expected of course would come. It
was now nearly all he had to depend
on. But being determined not to be
idle, he went to the gentleman who
bought his business and frankly told
his story. Knowing his ability, and
abbve all, his connections,
they at
once offered him two hundred pounds
-4 year.
- they took a house'at Brompton, a
house with a garden, and more rooms
than they required. But to obtain
the positiun this was necessary. But
Miriam very quietly- intimated her
intention to take lodgers. Mr. Van-
Ilian started, but made no opposi
tion.
- It was the sight of his brave
daughter seeing to her household
affairs that licipt- him kom repining.
She did not neglect her, painting;
she even hired a piano. But months
passed and no lodgers came. One
day, however, a French gentleman,
speaking no English, came to see the
apartments, which consisted of three
rooms, one of which was very light
and airy. He said •he was an artist,
with one pupil, in rather delicate'
health, and would like to take the
place, if he could have the occasional
use of the garden. They were duly
installed next day, the pupil, Mr.
Spencer being a young man who
' looked rather delicate, and who ap
peared to have his eyes, affected, for
he wore protective spectacles. His
manner was agreeable, and *ore he
had been a week in the house all
were great friends. He was an. en
thusiastic artist, and finding out tep
idly Miriam's artistic tastes, ,was
soon 'a fellow-pupil with her under
M. Dubois, and, before three months,
were over, Mr.Speneer was bard at'
work,at a portrait of his fair land-,
lady.
It was impossible for two young
persons or, similar tastes and habits
to be so constantly in one another's
society and not become friends. Mr.
Spencer was a man of cultivated
taste and much information; above
all, he was an enthusiast in art. So
was Miriam, and by degrees their-re
MI
I=
CHAPTER 111
lationship became more -intimate.
Miriam listened for his footsteps;
her heart beat wildly at the sound of
his voice.. Without a spoken word
they we:e engaged by that sympathy
of the soul which requites no words.
" Mr. Vaughan," said the young
man to the lawyer," I am something
more than a mere art student. I have
ample means to support a wife, and
tiff Taniily is good. If you will only
give your consent, you shall .have
every reference, and you shall be in
troduced to my relations." -
"My deat boy, if you can satisfy
me on that point," , replied Mr. Vau
ghan, "1 cannot wish for a better
son-in-law. We .are - not so rich; as
we might have been, but Miriam is
a treasurer in herself."
" She is. Then . -I.have your con
sent ?" he said, gleefully, and hurried
away to Miriam.
Now, as both loved deeply and sin
cerely, it is needless to say that be.
fore . evening they were engaged.
Next day they were to go to the
Royal Acadeniy Exhibition to see
the picture in its place. Mr. Vaughan'
and M. Dubois accompanied them,
and after some delay contrived to
reach the'spot where it was hung.
" Sold," was marked on it with a
little ticket.
" I made no reserve." replied Mr
Spencer; " but I will make - inqui
ries."
He shortly returned, and said it
had been bought at .the high figure
he had marked to.prevent a sale by
Mr. • Charles Constable Vaughan'.
MiriaM turned pale, her father Cough
ed. and shortly after the whole party
left: the gallery and returned' home.
"Tou seem very much annoyed,"
said the:young artist. " May I ask
why ?"
"It is unnecessary ,to • explain,'i
said Miriam, " but that gentleman's
name is associated with a very pain
fill epoch in our lives, and why he,
should buy my portrait is indeed a
mystery."
•° Because lie painted it," said the
artist in a voice of deep emotion,
"and would allow no other man on
earth to possess either the copy or
the original."
" Sir," cried Mr. Vaughan, " what
do you mean?"
_
That I am Charles Constable
Vaughan, your cousin—in a few
weeks your son-in-law," he• said,
clasping Miraiin tp his heart. "
-
• " Sir," she said, " this is too bad.
You ought to know how I disliked
that man." - .
" And I came to make you love
hini," he answered: " And now, sir,"
he .added, "you and I are the . only
parties interested in the entail."
" The only ones," replied 'the law
yer, moodily. " Our Joint Consent
can end the entail," he went on. .
It can, but I shall not consent--"
But before he could linigh the sen
tence he had torn the deed and thrust
it into ,, a fire, which he had cunningly
ordered, and by dint of a diligent
use of the pokei it was destroyed.
'"NOw, my dear sir. 1 !am wholly
in your. power. You are master of ,
Barclay Manor—will you give . it me
a t t some future - time as. your heir,
and, in the meantime, 'let me take
this fair treasure on security?" •
" Cousin Charles," observed Mi
riam, a little later in the day, •" it is
clear you were not to be Outdone."
" No, my ' darling. I loved you
before I saw you for your noble gen- ,
erosity—when I saw you 1 adored
you for• yourself, and determined to
win you. Have I_d'one so ?" he added.
" - Yes, my lord and master," she
said, with a smile, " you have con
quered." ' •
" I have won a prize fit for an em
perde," he. replied, .
It was indeed '.a gala day when,
after a brief journey to Paris, Mr.
Vaughan returned to. Barclay Manor
with' Mr. Vaughan, junior, and h!s
wife, Miriam. Nothing ever was said
of - the ownership ot the estate to
which only eleven years after, Charles
succeeded. He never. regretted the.
Stratagem by . 'Which. he won a wife;
nor- she the courage with which she
liad helped her father to withstand
their great temptation.
Children's Fancies' and Sayings
A LITTLE boy, (seven years old); trav
eling in a mail train, asked—" Which go,
fastest, male or female trains, papa?'
A SEVEN-YEAIk older, after a Scripture
lesson, was . asked,- "What were the
plagues of Egypt !"- " , The lbws," was
the „reply.
SAID Tom, who is five years and fourmonths old—" Mamma, I want to see
what is in that box." "There isn't any
thing in it, Tom." "Oh, then, I want
to see what there isn't in it."
" MAM3tA,". said a little ,boy of six,
"what does God have for dinner?" - .
"Hush, my dear; lle never. has dinner."
"Oh,. then, I suppose Ile has an eyg for
His tea," replied the child.
CUILD of seven before being brought
into drawing-room. Row heard outside
room. Scream from child. Child in
"alto "—" Tompany (company) or no
tompany, I won't have my face washed
with spit !"
A cum) four years of age, having been
told that we are are all male of dust, ob
serves a large amount lying about in
whirlwind , confusion. " Halo ! there is
somebody being made ; I Wonder if it is .a
boy or a girl ?'
.aged four years and six months,
having been previously scolded . for a too
lavish use of her paint-box, is intently
watching a glorious autumn sunset ; she
suddenly exclaims, with a ;f ro wn..
"Naughty Dud, to' 'waste so many
paints." ~
A LITTLE: boy (five years old) wished
to pray for the brother of one of his fath
er's servants, who had bad a bad acci
dent. " I don't know hisname," ho said
to his nurse, "bat I suppose' God will
know who I mean if I pray for Tom's
brother." ,
ONE e veni n gvg a child aged four and a
half years, while diligently studying a
!attire-book illustrating 'Scripture sub
jects, suddenly asked his mother the fol
loWing question :—" Mamma, who will
bury the last man ?" •
SAID to my little -girl one . day—
" What a large forehead .you have. got !
It is just like your father's. You could
drive a•• pony carriage round it." To
which her brother (five years old) said—
" Yea, mamma; but on papa's you can
see the marks of the wheels." • .
"Mir dear," Said a lady to her little
girl of -bye years old. "do you know
whgre God lives?" • qes, mamma, in a
bottle." replied the child. "In a bottle?"
said the astonished mother. " WhNt do
you mean?" "Why, mamma, you tO s ld
me God was a spirit, and I thohght they
always put spirits in bottles.
t
li , L lrt
1: ,i, __ .. ,
itr_ +
The. Buddhist. Solomon.
We shall give as a small specinien
of. what Schiefner has brought to
light from the canonical books of the
Buddhists two stories, both in .the
Spirit of the story of Solomon's jUdg
ment—the one in a more rudimenta
ry, the other in a more developed
form. .
"A man took off his hat and. boots
and left them on the shore before he
went to bathe , in the river. While
he was bathing 'another man came,
took the boots, tied them around, his
neck, and plunged into the river.
When the first had bathed, he went
on shore and looked everywhere for
ids boots. 'What are you looking
for ?' said the man in the water. 'My
boots,' he replied. Wfiere are your
boots ?' the other said. 'lf you liav•
any, you should tie them round your
neck before you go into the water, as.
I have done.' Then the first said,
But the boots you. have round your
neck, are Iry boots.' Soon a light_
arose r and they went before the
The King commanded his Ministers
to settle their dispute, but after 'sit
! ting in judgment the whole day they
went home tired in the evening and
•could not settle anything. Then a
clever woman, Yisakha by
.name,
when she heard ol• the lawsuit, said,
What is the use of examining and
cross-examining? . Say to one man,
'Take this boot,,' and to the other,
'Take that boot.' Then the• real
owner will say, Why should - my pair
of boots be divided,?' But the ,thief
• will 'say, What shall.l do with one
boot?' The King followed her ad
yiee and the thief was discovered."
The next story approaches More
-closely to the judgment.of Solomon,
and as 'the matter in dispute is set
tled without the cruel order of the
King to cut the child in two, the
Buddhist may even claim a certain
advantage over the Semetic story.
'• A hOuseholder had married a wife,
and when their marriage remained
childless he married a second. When
the second wife became the mother
of a son, she was afraid that the first
wife Would hate'arid injure the child,
and, Out of love for her son, she
agreed 'with her husband that . the
first wife should be the reputed moth
er of the boy. After a time the hus
band died, and.as the house belonged
to the son, the two wives began' to.
quarrel, which of them should live.in
the house with her son. At last they
went before the King. The King .
commanded his Ministers to settle
the dispute, with the usual result
that the judges could make nothing
of it. Then the clever woman. Xis
-akha, came, in and Whit is
the use of examining and cross-ex-
amining these women? Tell - them'!
th 4 we do • not know who the real •
mother is, and that they :must settle
it for them Selves. Let both lay. hold
of the boy and pull him with all their
might, and whoever can pull hardest
shall have the boy and the house.'
When the tussel began the child, be
ing pulled very hard, began to cry.
Then the true mother let him gO and
said : Anyhow, if he is not torn to
pieces and killed, I shall sometimes
be able to see him.' But the ,other
woman, tore him away with' violence.
Then the violent mother was beaten
with a rod and the true mother was
allowed to carry off her (ihild."—
• London Times.
Hecla and Vesuvius
Professor Palmieri's reports of
Mount Vesuvius state the Present
Modest eruption of Vesuvius has
lasted since 1575. It , began at:the .
bottom of the vast and deep crater
left after the eruption of Iti7:2, and
was therefore only visible to those
Who ascended the summit of the
mountain. But now this crater is,
filled up by the new lava which•flOw
ed at 'successive peripds, and there
fore the fresh streams which issue
from the eruptive cone flow down the
external parts of the mountain, gen
erally on the. side toward Naples.
The new eruptive cone has gradually
increased in height until it now pro
trudes about fifty feet above the
edge of the old crater.
Writing on :the I:4tb of last month
a correspondent says : The mountain
has been in an uneasy state for sev
eral years, and slight eruptions have
constantly taken place; but thc ell, :
max seemed to have been arrived at
on the 17th, when the Vesuvitis
changed its mantle of snow fur one
of fire. As the wind blew furiously
from the northeast the lava descend
.eft in the direction of Portici, cover
in!). a large portion of the cone and
presenting a magnificent . spectacle.
On the Lath there was less disturb
ance; but even in its state of great
est activity the Mountain made none
of those awful efforts which form a
grand eruption. There were some
local shocks and a heavy breathing
from the furnace, but there was no
tremendous explosion. The cup *as
full, and it flowed over. ThiS-flow
ing-over however, if continued to
great excessonay produce far great
er disasters than a roaring discharge
which finishes the whole business.
An eruption of IleciaLthe.famons
volcano of Iceland, is so 11 expected.
Miss F. Vetursson, a daughter of the
;Bishop of , Reykjavik, who made, an
ascent of this mountain last Summer,
found that the temperature of the
sides of the larger craters-bad recent
ly undergone a considerable increase;
and from a number of very `small
fissures' and holes• on these craters
there'arose heaVy white columns of
vapor, the sulphurous character of
which was much:stronger than for a.
lOnz time past. Front these circum
stances it-is inferred that a new crop;
tion of the voicano is probably to be
expected. This is considered the
more likely as since the last cruption
the period of quiescence usually- ob
served between the outbreaks of
Heela has already
. been long since
exceeded.. The last eruption took
place in the year
• A.vorNo lady who had been'married
little over a, year, wrote to her matter-of
fact old father, saying': "We have, the
dearest little cottage in the world,, Mita
mented• with the most charming. little
creepers you ever saw." The ohl man
react the letter, and exclaiuted, "Twins
by thunder." .
- MAIO per Annum In Advance.-
■
Garibaldi's Marriage. '
. The marriage of Garibaldi, which
has just been annulled in the court
of appeal, took place under romantic
circumstances, which are mbre.wide
ly known in their general burden
thanin - their detail. Everybody in .
Europe is awarelipw, on the morrow
of his wedding with SignOia Raimon
-di, he .tobk, his departure for
,Caprera,
and never again.consented to see his
wife. How the unfortunate affair
was brought about only a few friends
remember.. It was at the opening of
the campai g n of 1 85 9.
. Garibaldi was'
scouting the country between Varese
and Como, and was about to give his
troops the order to advance when a
handsome. Toling lady on horseback
entered and requested. the_ favor of
an audience. .She was the eldest
daughter of ;the - Marchese Raimondi
by a sister of - the celebrated'eanta
trice Signora RoncOni,and she
brought to Garibaldi, on what seemed
to be undoubted- authority, the news
of a Concentration of Austrian troops,
under 'Gen. LT.rban, on, the Cona route.
.Garibaldi . Profited 'by the advice,
Went through the Borgho Vico l'ass,
and swept the Austrians past the lake.
• - The young Iris on horseback, hois
ever, bad made such an impreSsion
on his stout heart that directly after
the peace of Villafranca he proceeded
• to the Castello Fino, the seat of the
Raimondi family, where he was
ed as the; iberator of Italy by his fair
friend among all others, seeing which,
on the same evening, he asked her
hand from her lather. It may. be
doubted if even a princess would not
- have. considered such a, proposal from
the hero just that. highlyilattering.
When itisadded that the..young lady
•.ivits an illegitimate child and .the
marchese an enthusiastic patriot, it
will be readily understood with what
pride and joy the latter
. at once gave
his consent. Indeed, he never seemed
to imagine that his daughter might ;
see the proffered match with Other
feelings than himself. - He hastened
to 'announce it to'tlie world, and fixed
ah early day for the marriage. Mean
while, the girl vas silent and abashed,
as if overwhelmedwith a sense of the .
honor that befell her, and as the day
of the ceremony approached she
seemed to be unwell and took-to her
bed. Numerous friends had been
summoned.
The illustrious bridegroom's best
man had come orOpurpose- from the
end of Italy,. and
,the whole country
was in expectation of the event. As
the young lady. although she com
plained of general weakness, had evi
dently no serious .ailment, the mar
ehese insisted that on the appointed
day- she should be carried - to chapel
in an armchair.. Sire fainted on be
ing brought to the altar, but the
wedding took place none the less,
acid . thiis 'she bez.me the GeneraN
wife. It was on the following morn
ing- that Garibaldi left tl4 estate, on
the unhviiy's girl's evnlbssion that
she was enceinte. She has since lived
in. Switzerland in -close retirement.—
London Wor/d. • . _
THE Chicago Alliance has a* word
anent the mismanagement of mission
ary societieS. The"-revelations of mis
management which the defalcation
of freaSurer Demond brought to
light are_ fresh in the memory of hll.
We have been:told; it continues, that
the-, affairs of another missionary
board had been sb badly.handled a
few years ago that it was dangerous
for one of its officers to antagonize a
great religious journal, whose - editors
knew of the facts, for fear of =vex
pose. Whether the matter bas-been
adjusted We know not, but 'it is not
to be denied that great care should
be taken in the selection of officers
of these societies, and that:as many
safeguards should be set about the_
administration of their affairs as are
placed about great secular moneyed
institutions.. financial leak the
Alliance would have, stopped, is the
useless missionary publications.
" They are, except, perhapS,l with a
Solitary exception,". it says,.."4pub-i
lished at a' great pecuniary loss. One.
of these 'organs, it has lately traps,
pined, cost a not orerstrong societ3',
a good many thousand dollars last
3-ear, and .wet.believe that the best
paying missionary publication is
is
sued at a net loss of over $5,00u.
VICTOR BELIEF IN PROVI,
oF i sex:—" I believe in a- F'royidence, , l"
said Victor Hugo to a company gath
ered around him in his red salon in
the Rue de Clichy, "because I am a
Providence myself." Some one asked
for an explanation of this, curious
riddle. The venerable poet replied :
" We caught a mouse yesterday eve:
fling. Its death sentence was already
pronounced, when my little grand
daughter Jeanne, with eyes glistening
tears,- beeped for the life of. the
'gray -prisoner: Her mother, hesitated .
whether to listen to the dear little
advocate or not, and in her doubt said,
" Grandfather shall decide." So they
came- 63..xne. For a moment I held
the power of life and death over the
diminutive creature, and I thought
the Heavenly Providence. may find
itself in my situation when the fate,
of a bein g of a higherorder is to be
,determined. Naturally I set the
mouse free, for, when a man u_nder
takes the role of Providence he should
at least imitate its generosity." • -
THE Chicago Alliance 'is severely
critical of the Moody and Sankey
hymn's. :.They .are well meant, it
says, these songs; there are two or
three ofthem that will live, but they
are mostly sentimental' slush. The.
"hymns ; ',' arc full of false sentiment,
false theology, false -figures. The
tunes are.for the most part epheme
ral, jingly and utterly unfitted for the
'worship.of the post high God., They
belong to the 'same elass.as "Nancy
Lee," "Baby 'Mine," and "lty
Graftifsthees_ Clock ;" they appeal
to the 'same' love . of novelty and
- puerile melody',,'and like these intik.-
-tipns will soon" stop short, never to
(T o main ." while "Rock-of' Ages,'!
"There is a. Land - of Pure Delight,"
and "Father,- Whateler of . Earthly
Bliss," - and other religious poems,
born italic sentiment andtigh as
pirations,• like the immortal
brook, go on forever. i•
Professor Asger Hamerik's Ideas
of Music:,,.:
Professor Asger Hamerik deliver- • ,
ed" recently his eleventh, lecture , on
the history-of music. -He 'said : "'in- -
struments are divided - into stringed
and wind Instruments, and subdivid- _
ed into six classes, namely, sowed .
instruments (the faMily of Violins),"
wind instruments, keyed instruments
(piano, and, organ), stringed instru-'
ments (harp, guitar, &c.), instru
ments of percussion end mechanical r , -
instruments. At the head of these
must be plated the humin voice, the -
first and most beautiful of all instru-
ments. Instrumental rausieis-a mel
-ody or a system of melodies appro
priated either to a single instrument
or to several together.. This leads us
to consider it in two points of view—
first, as single music solo; second- -
ly, as concerted music. Solos, wheth
er single or accompanied, compre
hend-au-infinite number of pieces - in
various forms and styles, as studies, -
fantasias, sonata and concertos. The
inventor of the sonata form is Cord. %
snd'of that of the concerto, - Torelli.
By concerted music - se understand '
instrumental music with different '
parts in which all - the instruments
are - equally obligator= Tbis class coin- /-
prises the trio, the - quartet, the,quin
tct. and other pieces where each-
.strument has its separate part. and
the symphony.• Thicherini was. • the
first . who, in 1168 fixed the quaftet -
and quintet, or chamber music. He
was followed by .Giardini, Cambrini
and Pag nani and, in another Khoo!,
FicyeHaydn, Mozart and Beetho
ven. The symphony, improved:since
the middle. of the -list century , by
Gossee, Wanhall and Nmanuel Bach,
was jolts form perfected- by Haydn
and in its instrumentation by Beetho
ven. Other symphony composers of
various schools followed, as,Berloz,
Spohr, Gade, Ruff and Rubinstein.
A symphony orchestra` consists of
violins, violos, violincellos, double -
basses, two flutes, two oboes, two
claripnettes,- two . bassoons, l two 1,
-French • horns, two - trumpets and
kettle drums. It has, during the
last-fifty years,- been, improved with
four French horns, three trombones,
tuba, hdrps and instruments of per
cussion, and-necessarily calls for ad
ditional Itrings 'to balance. .Thus
the modern symphony compekser - has -
at' his command five:colors—strings,
woodeninstruments, brass, harps and'
instruments of pereuiSion—with all
the. sub-variety of shades. BAs to the
number of instrumets, I consider-an
orchestra of thirty-five strings and ,
twenty wind instruments, or about
sixty performers, all that is needed
o render any work satisfUctory
order one baton. ;
NUMBER 40
• .•
- ON making a paitoral visit at the
house of one of his - parishoners re ,
cently, a clergyman of Syracuse im- '
proved the opportunity to catechise a
little boy of four or five years of age.
" What class are you in?" said the
minister. "In the interest class,"
• replied the bog. .‘.‘ What have- 3,-JO,u
learned ?" Answer ! The com
mandments and the creed." • What;
then, is the first commandment ?"
" Nobody shall have . any gods but
me,". said - the !Uri. What is the
creed,?" The little boy thought a -
moment, and then answered, " I he-
Revs in the Holy Catholic Church,
the . forgiveness of sins , and. the Corn
munion
.-
set.",--Vh urcit mad, _ '
Fun, Fact and Facetim.
A GOOD judge of mutton_ ought - to be
wetter wise. -
THE loveliest things in muffs, thus far ;
are• pretty little hands,
As, ounce of taking care of yourself is
better than a pound of- doctors' stuff. -
•TTIERE are grounds for believing that
boarding-house coffee is not always good.•
DURING the deluge Mr. Noah was iu
the habit of calling his wife an ark angel.
THE last time a man goes into'a grave
yard, he does not laugh at the style of the
tombstones. •
LITTLE things are often . impertant.
What would a forty-cent cigar amount to
if you had no match ?- t
WiiY is a gas company like a lawyer?
Because it knows all about Coke and Lit
tle-ton.
.. . ,
.
Sun-TIDES- ought to .be considered suc
cessful people, inasmuch ass they Uccom
dish their own ends.
OLE BEEL's fiddle is 316 year's old.—
Ex. It must have been a little, young
thing v(-11en 0. B. began to make farewell
tours with it -
SOME men are so forgetful that they
never dot their eyes until they are dead,
and then. it is generally done by some
body else for them. - -
To.err is buman,:but to - refuse to drop
into the colle . ition-box the
.leaden, nickle
with . which you have been stuck is divine.
-STARVED tramp said be was ,so thin
that when he had,a pain, he couldn't tell
whether it was a stomach-ache. or hack
ache.
" Wiry,"-the boy asked, "do you blow
down the muzzlii of- your gun ?" "To
See," replied the man -" if it is—" And
then he discovered that it was,
THE young lady who had a
ner in the waltz changed him
skillful one, betause,
_she sa-
lieved in the better whirled.
Tut: manager of a *church
asked if there would be 'musi.
n : r, replied, "No," and t
'but there will be sinking.'?
C±rio used to be the e' bier .
ug marriages ; now-cupid-ity
au inducement of matrimony,'
ish adventurers &invert • int
many.
A 3IAINE editor was paralyzed while
sitting in caureh list Sunday, and-an, es
teemed coteMpoqiry thinks the novi.lty . of ,
the, situation was too much for him..
IT is a mistake ; to -suppose that "every,
body is thinking 'about you. lieu do, so
much or that kind of work, yourself that
you exhaust the subject. It is'a Mistake.- ~
to - suppose that the--dismally pious man
has had a change of heart. 1 The change
is iuhis liver, itanywhere,
RECENTLY a young .woman - limn Ire
l4nd wishing to go from Ellicotville to
S:alamatim, bought-her ticket and had her
trunk checked, and then made the jour- -
.Cky on foot. When asked wby Ole did
not ride, she replied: "They maddme
pay thirty-five cents for me trunk, and
what would they charge for meself?".
PiIot:ABLY you never beard of-a ginger
' bread barometer: A French editor- has
one—a general iu gingerbread.. De huys
one at a fair once a year, and nails it to
the wall at home. Damp weather softens
and -dry weather hardeni gingerbread,.
and the editor can tell by touching the
fig re p wittilis'finger what kind of a day
is going to be. ,
THEY bad a "good sized" show-storm
along the line of the Northern Pacific
Railroad the other..day, and this is the
lay- the headliner of the .Fargo Argue
raves About it :
Oh the Snow,
The Beeiew•tiful 'Snow
It Made Last Night SA Jolly, You
Belating the Trains and Grounding therf.Al-
- Blizzardlog Over the Land
It Fires..
a Olve Lis a Chanie. With a Big Sharp Hoe; at
the Son-of-is Gun Who Wrote
Beautiful Snow
A PARTY of gentlemen were - playing
poker in Louisville, when a terrific storm
arose ; the lightning played as familiarly
about the house as .a duck paddles in a
frog-pond, and ciash after crash of thun
der rent the air. linmediately after a
terrific crash, Colonel CL, arose, throw
down - his band, put on his- ovet-coat, and
said : "I, can't stand this, gentlemen
must leave . you." . "what for?" "If
the lightning strikes' this - building and
kills us all, claimed if I - want We an
gel Gabriel to 1110 rue- with a bob-tail
flush."
U
poor part
for a more
'd, she be-
.fair when
each even
en added,
gent effect
is too ofteit
which self-_,
k ) mattes-o-
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