2 (irijc imcs, New Ulornirftel )a.
whether Time has robbed my nrm of
its Btrength." i1
In half an hour all was bustlo and ao
tivitj in the old blacksmith shop. Tho
wondering neighbors who had for somo
months past been obliged to go ten miles
to the next village, when anything in
that line was required, heard with sur
priso the busy strokes of tho hammer.
Sam Jones almost rejoiced when his
horse lost a shoo, because it gave him nn
opportunity to satisfy his curiosity. Ho
was a rough man, but his heart was
touched when ho saw the old gentleman
hard at work, and it was with almost an
air of deference that he asked if his horso
could be shod immediately, as ho was in
hasto to go to Clydo on important busi
ness. " Without delay Sam. Here Mr. llich,
will you attend to this? or, stay, I will
do it myself. It is ten years or more,
since I have shod a horse ; but I know
tho right way yot, if I mistake not."
The job was about completed, and tho
old blacksmith, with all the interest and
activity of forraor years was bending over
the uplifted foot of the animal, when
another person entered tho shop. For a
moment ho stood unnoticed, but an at
tentive observer of what was passing.
The hand of the old gentleman trembled,
as ho performed the unusual labor, and
ho paused as if fatigued.
" Father," said a well-known voice at
his elbow. " What means this ? This
work becomes not your gray hairs; givo
me the hammer."
" I have a vow, William," was tho re
ply, " that your wife and children shall
never want whilo I can raiso a hammer ;
nor your good name be disgraced with
debts, if I can earn tho means to pay
thorn. God will give me strength."
More affected than ho cared to own,
William walked to tho furthor part of
the shop, and busied himself with some
work that stood ready. For many days
he had been absont from home, and had
returned at a lato hour on the previous
evening. His feelings had been a good
deal softened by the appcaranco of abso
lute poverty his cottago had assumed.
Something must bo done ; and after an
anxious and restless night, he fell asleep
just before the day dawned, with the full
resolution to work steadily for three
months at least, and then see how things
would go.
The bright morning sun streaming in
at the window awakened him. He sprang
up, and the first sound that fell upon his
ear was the busy stroke of the black
smith's hammer. He listened in sur
prise ; Rich was not wont to go to work
without orders. ' Hastily dressing him
self, ho left the cottage and sought his
shop. Pride, shame, and self-reproach,
struggled in his mind, as he watched his
aged father steadily pursuing his unwont
ed task. The latter feelings at length
gained the mastery. .,
" Rest yourself, now, father," he said,
as the old gentleman paused from very
exhaustion. " Fear neither for my family
nor my good name ; for, with God's help,
both shall be cared for.", , .' ,
" Bless you, my boy, bless you," was
the reply. " Your words give me new
life. lie yourself again, Billy. The
dark eloud is passing away."
At the little cottage nothing was known
of what had taken place. With her
mind filled with her own sad thoughts,
Litxie noticed not the sounds that show
ed all were actively engaged at the shop.
Her husband did not return at noon
and indeed she scarcely expected hint,
for he was seldom with them at meals.
She had a lingering hope that he might
come in the evening; but even this was
very doubtful. Her heart beat quickly,
when, iost after the sun had sunk be
hind the Western hills, his step was
heard at the door. The little ones clung
to her dress as he entered, for they learn
ed to fear his approach. '
" Are yon not coming to see father f"
he said kindly. " Yon are not afraid of
me, Willie, my little man 1" '.
" Not to-night, father," replied Willie,
boldly. " Come, sitter, come to father ;
he will not hurl us."
Llitie trembled lost the roply should
irritate him ; but he only sighed deeply,
and took the child in his arms without
speaking. With more cheerfulness than
she had felt for months, Lizzie busied
herself with preparations for the evening
meal.
" Father tells me there is to be a fa
mous lecturer in the village this evening,"
said William as they took their seats at
the table. " Can you go with me to hear
him, Lizzie r Never mind the chil
dren," be added, as his wife glanced to
ward the little ones. " Sister Jennie has
promised to oome round and stay with
them. .! ,
"Then I will go with pleasure, Will,"
replied Lizzie, and the untasted food
stood before ber, for she felt too happy
to eat. ... i ,
u Take some supper, mamma," lisped
little Lizzie ; and Willie seconded the pe
tition by saying t .
u Yes, mammaj take some supper.
Don't it make you glad to have father
home with us ? You always cry when he
is gone." i " i
There were tears in Lizzie's eyes, now;
but a loving glanee from her husband
sent a thrill of happiooas through her
heart, to which it had long been a strang
er. It seemed almost liko a dream to Liz
zie when she found herself actually
walking through tho village of Hose
Valley, leaning upon her husband's arm,
for it was long sinco they had been seen
together. She was silent, for her heart
was too full to speak, and her husband
seemed busy with his own thoughts.
She was startled with surprise when
sho found tho subject was temperance;
and sho wondered, and would havo given
much to have known if William was
awaro of this beforo ho invited hor to at
tend. The speaker was an ablo one.
Most eloquently did ho speak of tho mis
eries of intemperance, of the perfect
thralldom with which it holds its victim.
Admirably did he portray tho homo of
the drunkard Tho wretched wifo and
miserable, neglected children. Then fol
lowed an earnest appeal to those he was
addressing to those in particular, who
stood on tho brink of tho fatal preci
pice, but who had not yet precipitated
themselves into the gulf below. "I'ausr."
said he, "pause, and whilo thcro is yet
timo, pledge yourselves, with the help of
God, to shako off the yoko that binds
you. Bo true to yourselves, and to tho
dear ones that gather around your house
hold hearths."
The plcdgo was produced, and old and
young pressed forward to enroll their
names, to bo installed as members of tho
infant lodge of Good Templars.
"Are there not moro who should
como ?" continued tho speaker, as tho
last signaturo was signed. " Aro thcro
not those who aro still hesitating between
lifo and death ? Remember, that this
plcdgo binds you not to slavery, but it is
tho token of freedom."
Calmly and deliberately William Janes,
the Village Blacksmith, left his wife's
side and advanced to the table. There
was a general murmur of pleasuro
throughout the assembly, but Lizzie
spoke not, and, loan indifferent spectator,
might have appeared unmoved. The
namo of William Janes was plainly
written, tho assembly dispersed, and each
took his way to his own home, or joined
the numerous little group who stood con
versing upon the topics of tho evening.
As Lizzie passed out loaning on the
arm of her husband, many a congratu
latory smile or kind shako of the hand
was reooived, but apparently they were
almost unnoticed. Not one word was
spoken until they were passing up the
shady walk to the cottage door. Tho
sight of the house, with its bright light
within, broke the spell, a full realization
of tho change which might now take
place came over her. The dark cloud
had passed away, and her husband, tho
father of her children was restored to her.
" William 1 dear, dear William 1" she
murmured, and burst into tears.
" My own Lizzie I my dear, true-hearted
little wife 1" he said tenderly, as he
encircled her with his arm. . .,
No more passed between them, for
Jennie was watching ior them ; and with
many assurances that she had been faith
ful to her charge, ' said . she must bid
them good-night, without delay, for fath
er and mother would be weary with wait
ing for her.
William and Lizzie stood watching
her, as with light steps she passed down
the walk, and across the field that led to
the " old place," and then entered the
cottage.
The babies slept quietly ; and side by
side, as in days gone by, they sat down
near the vine-covered casement, and talk
ed long and freely of the past, present,
and future. '
" It has been a long bight, dearest"
he said, " but with God's help, the day
will now dawn upon you.' You have ev
er been a faithful wife and mother. I
have caused you muoh suffering ; but in
future it shall be my endeavor to be what
I ought to be, both to you and my chil
dren." , , ;, .
Lizzie pressed closer to his side, and
looked confidingly ia his face, but he
made no reply : and after a short pause,
William said, hesitatingly:
" Perhaps Lizzie, you, are not aware
that we have still some trials to pass
through. We are in debt, and unless I
can make some arrangements with my
creditors, we must part with our pleasant
home to satisfy their claims."
" Do we owe so very much V asked
Lizzie, a shade of anxioty ' passing over
her countenance.
" A mere trifle to those who have
riches ; but a largo sum to those who have
nothing," was the reply. ," About five
hundred dollars, I believe."
Lizzie gently disengaged herself from
the arm which her husband had thrown
around her, and entered the little room
where the children were sleeping. In
a few minutes she returned, and placing
a small work-box in her husband's hand,
said smilingly :
" Here is a gift for you, dear Wil
liam." " And a rather heavy one, for the size,
to say the least," he replied, as he raised
the hd. " Why, Lizzie 1" was his aston
ished exclamation. , " Where did this
money oome from ?"
Have yon forgotten the three glasses a
a day you indulged me in for so many
years?' replied Lizzie, smiling at the
look of amazement, with which her hus
band surveyed the large collection of five,
ten and twenty-five cent pieces which
formed tho contents of the work-box.
" Is it possible that you treasured it up
in this manner, my littlo wifo ?"
" I saved it against timo of neod, Wil
liam dear ; it is all yours now. Thoro
is moro than Jive hundred dollar there.
We may keep our own dear homo 1"
" And I am a free man once more,
thanks to my own, dear wifo," exclaimed
William, as ho clasped hor to his bosom.
" I accept your gift, love, as freely ns it
is given. Slrange-that both Borrow and
gladness should bo caused by tho three
glumes a day."
Years passed on. Tho busy sound
of the blacksmith's hammer was still
heard in the littlo shop. Tho gray-haired
gentleman still smoked his pipo, as
with a complacent air ho watchod his in
dustrious son at his work, and both, at
tho old homestead and tho cottago, all was
sunshino and happiness. Tho dark cloud
had indeed passed away.
Lost mid Fonnd.
A FEW years sinco a gcntloman en
gagod in the lumber business in
Maine, haviog an appreciative eyo for a
Cdo diamond, and being convinced that a
real gem would, if properly bought bo a
safe investment, accordingly commission
ed a jeweler to purcha.se for kirn a stono
about a thousand dollars in'valuo which
was mounted as a spiral-backed stud.
As months rolled on tho owner was of
fered by connoisseurs constant advances
on his purchase, which temptation only
niaJo him value his gem tho more, and
ho Said to himself, " If it is worth that
to them, it is to me, and I will keep it
until forcod by necessity to sell it."
In April of last year, whilo working
on his boom of logs on one Bido of the
streams of the Kennebec, having on a
shirt, tho stud-holo worn largo by sorvico,
ho saw his sparkling brilliant fall lrom
his bosom, strike the log, and glide qui
etly into the current below.
Determination to regain it, over
powered the regret of his mind. He
kept his loss where his stud should have
been in hia bosom. Sounding the
depth of the water he found it to be about
seven feet; he then decided to wait till
the summer drought should bring the
stream to its lowest ebb, and taking accu
rate measurement of the plaoe, by the
bearing of the rocks and trees on the
shore allowing oightcen inches fur the
change of direction by the current, ho
left his treasure to compote with the dace
and shiner in fascinating the river mer
maid, and returned to his Massachusetts
homo.
The September following, six months
after tho loss, the river being then at its
lowest point for the season, the undaunted
lumberman started for his diamond. The
river full of logs, covering the place, had
been sawed and shipped, and now only a
few inches of water trickled over the spot
where the stud fell. He took with him
a large tin eolander, the holes of which
were of a size to hold the prize, if found.
He had determined to work a fortnight
before giving up tho gem as lost, and to
have all the river bottom go through his
handy kitchen strainer. He made his
first dip of gravel and water, as nearly as
he could calculate, eighteen inches down
the current from where it struck the
surface of the stream, seven feet above.
And a lucky din it was, for at the bottom
of the pan lay the lost gem, bright and
sparkling as when it came from the jew
eller. '
' Bound to de a Wood Day's Work.
Mr. M , of Oxford, don't object
to having a hired man do a full day's
work, at least so we should judge from
the following story :
A short time ago a man went to his
place for work. Mr. M set him to
plowing round a forty-acre field. After
he had plowed faithfully all day, until
the sun was about half an hour high, he
expressed his opinion that it was about
time to quit work.
"Oh, no," said Mr. M , " you can
plow around six or eight times more just
as well as not."
So the hired man plowed around six
or eight times, then went to the house,
took care of his team, milked nine eows,
ate hie supper, and found ten o'clock
staring him in the face from the old
time-piece.
Said the hired man to Mrs. M -,
" Where is Mr. M ?"
The good woman answered, " He baa
rotired ) do you wish to tee him ?"
He replied that he did. After being
conducted to the bedroom, he said, " Mr.
M , where is the axe ?".
" Why," aaid Mr. M , "what do
you want to do with the axe ?"
" Well," said the hired man, "I was
just thinking you might want me to
split wood until breakfast is ready."
t&- S. R. Bailey & Co., of Bath, Me.,
carriage and sleigh makers, have a pat
ent machine for sawing around a log,
and are thus enabled to furnish boards of
any width desired. They recently sawed
out a board fifty-eight feet wide, which
was never done before. They are princi
pally used for sleigh dashers and carriage
panels. : 1 1 ' '
Mr A woman at Oberlin, Ohio, col
lected money for the soldiers' orphans,
and used it to buy a bonnet. She said
orphans, after they got used to it, could
get along without bread, but women must
have bonnets.
Tho Smuggler's Dog.
WHO would have imagined that a
dog had been made serviceable as
a clerk, and thus rollod up for his master
upward of a hundred thousand crowns?
And yet a " big thing" liko this happened
somo years ago.
One of those industrious boings who
know how to mako a chaldron of coals out
of a billot of wood, determined in extreme
poverty, to cngago in trado. Ho prefer
red that of merchandize which occupied
the least space, and was calculated to
yield the greatest profit. He borrowed n
small somo of money from a friend, and
repairing to Flanders he there bought a
pieco of la co, which without any danger,
he smuggled into Franco in the following
manner :
He trained an active spaniel to his
purposo. Ho caused him first to bo shav
ed, and procured for him tho skin of an
other dog, of the same hair .and the samo
shape. Ho then rolled tho lace around
tho body of the dog, nnd put over him
the garment of the other animal so adroit
ly that it was impossiblo to discover tho
trick. The laco being thus arranged in
his canino band-box, ho would say to his
obedient messenger, ' Forward my friend!'
At these words, the dog would start and
pass boldly through tho gates of Malines
or Valencionncs, in tho very faco of the
vigilant officers placed thcro to prevent
smuggling. Having passed tho bounds,
he weuld wait for his master at a little
distance in the open country. Then they
mutually caressed and feasted, nnd tho
merchant deposited his parcels in places
of seourity renewing his ventures as ne
cessity required.
Such was tho success of tho smuggler,
that in five or six years ho amassed a hand
some fortune, and kept his coach. But
envy pursues tho prosperous; a mischiev
ous neighbor betrayed the laoo merchant,
and notwithstanding the efforts of tho lat
ter to disguiso his dog, he was tracked,
watched and detected. Tho gauio was
up.
How far does tho cunning of such an
animal extend ! Did the spies of the
enstom house expect him at one gato, he
saw them at a distance and instantly went
toward the other. Were tho gates shut
against him, he overcame every obstacle
sometimes he leaped over the wall, at
others passed secretly behind a carriage,
or running slyly between the legs of trav
elers, he would thus accomplish his aim.
One day, however, whilo swimming a
stream near Malines, he was shot, and
died in the water. Thero was then
about him five thousand crowns' worth
of lace the loss of which did not afflict
the master, but he was inconsolable for
the loss of the faithful " clerk."
A King as a Detective.
' In August last a young lady, a resi
dent of San Francisco, died. During
the the following October a look of the
deceased's hair, together with two rings,
wore placed in a registered letter and de
spatched toward the East. During the
mail robbory on tho 22d of that month,
the letter in question was opened, and
one of the rings appropriated. When
Postal Agent Barstow took possession of
the debris in the mail car, he found the
lock of hair, one ring, and several pieces
of the letter. After considerable trou
ble, he managed to decipher the name of
the party, forwarding tho letter and that
of the party for whom it was intended.
The writer of the letter, a lady, furnished
him with a minute description of the
missing ring, mentioning that its priooi-
ai feature comistea ot a neart crossed
V two clasped hands. This clue was
furnished to the detectives, and through
its aid they captured one of the leading
spirits of the robbory. But for the ring,
which he had devoted to the adornment
of his own olumsy hand, he might have
escaped unscathed. He has taken up
his abode at the Nevada State Prison,
and the ring was returned to its owner
one day last month. ' . '
. Yery Utile Difference.
A man was once traveling through the
State of Illinois, and, coming to a ferry
and being out of money, the following
colloquy took plaoe between him and the
ferryman :
Ferryman" I say, mister, have you
got any money ?"
Traveler" No, sir."
Ferryman" Have you got any at
homo?
Traveler" No, sir."
Ferryman " Can you borrow any ?"
Traveler " No, sir."
Ferryman "Do you expect to get any
on the other side ?"
Traveler "No, sir."
Ferryman" Well, you had better stay
where you are, for it makes little differ
ence which side you are on.
ttaV Lay your fingers on your pulse. nnd
know that at every stroke somo immor
tal passes to his Maker ; some fellow being
orosses the river of death ; and If we
think of it, we may well wonder that it
should be so long before our turn comes.
Jir A Missionary agent, collecting
funds in a New Hampshire town, was
informed by a church member that he
could not contribute, aa he had no change
less than a cent?
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