MRS. WINTHROP'S STORY.
lT OUISA, who was that gentleman
t A-J that came homo with you ?' '
"Oh it wag one of my friends."
" It wa not Henry Southron ?"
"No. It was not."
" But I thought Ilonry waited ou you to
the party. "
"So he did."
. " And did ho not remain until the party
closed?"
''Yes I beliove so."
A cloud came over Mrs. Burnet's face,
and she seemed troubled. She gazed upon
her daughter for some moments without
speaking further. Louisa was nineteen
years of ago; a bright eyed, happy, merry
making girl, possessing a true and loving
heart, but a little inclined to bo thought
less in her moments of social joy. She was
an only child and bnd been a pot in the
family ; but her love was not confined to
the circle that met around her own hearth
stone. More than a year bofore she had
promised Henry Southron that she would
be his wife as soon as time and circum
stances rendered such a step proper. Ilon
ry wag an orphan, and had just gone into
business ou his own account. He was a
young man of whose friendship any sensi
ble maiden might have been proud ; a gen
erous, upright, steady, industrious youth,
fixed firmly in his moral course, and of a
fair, manly personal appearance.
"My child," said the mother, after re
flecting awhilo, "what have you been do
ing? AVhy did not Henry come homo with
you?"
" Because he didn't choose to, I sup
pose," replied Louisa.
. " That is not the reason," said Mrs. Bur
net, with assurance " Something that you
havo done has caused this. How tell me
what it is?"
" Yon are too anxious altogether, moth
er. There is no damage, I assure you."
," Still, my child, I would liko to know
what you have been doing."
" Well, I will tell you," returned Louisa,
giving herself a rock in the chair. " Henry
is altogether too attentive. One would
think, to see him at a party, that I was al
ready his wifo, and about tho only female
present."
" And you have become tired'of so much
attention ?"
" Of course I havo." , .
" And you havo thrown it off?"
" Yes. I took occasion this evening to
ow him that I didn't liko finite so much
owrsoeing. I talked with everybody else,
ana sufforedMr. Pinegree to wait upon me
down to supper. Poor nenry looked as
though he had lost his last friend. It will
give him a lesson, I guess ; and in fature I
hope he will make a littlo less lovo In pub
lic" '
"My child," said Mrs. Burnet, with
much feeling, " you are trying a dangerous
experiment. The time will come, if you
ever marry Henry Southron, when you
will be proud of his undivided attention.
" It will be time enough for that when
we are married," replied Louisa, with a
toss of the head. " But don't give yourself
any uneasiness, Ho will come around
again all right."
'Did he offer to wait upon you home
this evening ?"
' No. Ho was rather shy of me after
supper ; and when the party broko up I
ran off alono. Mr. Pineerree overtook me
on the way and accompanied mo to the
door."
"I think, my child," remarked the
mother, after another season of reflection,
" that you have been not only very wicked
stop listen to mo. You know that
Henry loves you most truly, that his whole
soul is dovoted to you, and that his atten
tion is but the result of his affection a
1 demonstration of which you should be
proud; for lot mo toll you, an undivided,
unswerving love is something not always
to be secured. Now you have been trifling
with Henry's heart; you have both pained
and mortified him ; and it so happens that
those hearts which love the roost deeply
and truly are the ones which suffer tho
most from slight or neglect, and which
shrink the most quickly from coldness and
trifling. Beliove me, Louisa, you are en
tering upon dangerous ground. If you
care for Henry's love I advise you to ask
his pardon as soon as you have an oppor
tunity." " Ask his pardon 1" repeated the thought
less girl, with an expression of surprise.
" Mercy on me 1 what are you thinking of?
You shall see him at my feet before the
week is out." ."
"Ah my dear one, you don't know so
much about the human heart a you think
you do. A heart may revolve - steadily
around its centre of affection for a long
time for so long a time that It seems fixed
in its course like a planet around the sun
but a sudden strain may snap the cord
asunder, and the stricken heart fly off at a
tangent, and never come back. If . you
must triflo, trifle with anything rather than
the heart We are going to Mr. Winthrop's
to-morrow, and I hope I may induce Tolly
to toll you a little story of her experience
in life."
Louisa said she would be very glad to
bear it ; then she tried to laugh ; and then,
, having told her mother once more that she
was needlessly anxious, she went to her
chamber.
On the following morning Mrs. Burnot
met her daughter, as usual, making no al
lusion to the circumstances of the previous
evening. In tho afternoon they walked
out to call at Mrs. Winthrop's, having an
urgent invitation to visit them. They re
mained to tea, and spent the evening.
" Polly, of whom Mrs. Burnet had spo
ken, was Mrs. Winthrop's sister. Sho was
a maiden lady, past three score, and had
for many years found a homo with her
brother. Her hood was now silvered, and
tmie bad drawn deep marks on her brow,
but still there were traces of beauty left
upon her face. During tho evening she
cams and took a seat besido Louisa, and
after some common place remarks tho old
lady said, in a quiet way:
" Your mother told mo that you would
liko to hear a little of my life history."
" If you would please toll it, I certainly
should, for anything which you may doom
worthy of telling must be interesting," re
plied Louisa.
"Then lot us walk into the garden. The
moon is up, and the air is warm and pleas
ant." They went out, and whon they had
reached the grapery they went into the
arbor and sat down.
" There is no need that I should milo
any preliminary remarks," continued Polly
" for I have come out on purpose to tell you
a short story, and I shall toll it to you as
plainly aud simply as possible, and when I
have done, you may know why your
mother wished that you should hear it.
" Wheu I was your ago people called mo
handsomo but still, with all my faults, I
do not think I was ever proud or vain. I
knew that I was good looking, aud I meant
to bo good. I tried to do right as I under
stood it, aud whon I failed it was from a
lack of judgment aud a proueness to be
thoughtless where I should have been di
rectly tho opposite. Whon I was eighteen
years of ago Georgo Ashmun asked me if
I would bo his wife. Ho was a noble
hearted, generous, upright man, and I
nover experienced a sense of more blissful
joy than when I becamo thus assurod that
his heart's best love was mine. I told him
yes, and our vows wero plighted. We
were to wait a year, and then if we con
tinued to hold the same purpose we were
to be married. I don't know as any one
envied mo ; but I do know that iu all the
country around there was not a better man
than was he who loved mo, nor was there
one whose prospects in lifo were more
promising.
" From my girlhood up I had been a sort
of pet and favorite in our social circle,
and considerable attention was shown me
from all quarters. Georgo was one of
those honest minded, practical men, who
cannot appear different from what they
really aro, who follow a truo and Just
cause straightforward and frankly. When
he had proposed for my hand, and I had
promised to be his wife, ho dovoted his en
tire attention to mo. It almost seemed as
though he could not be attentive enough.
When out upon our social picnics and ex
cursions he was constantly by my side, an
ticipating my every want, and ever ready
to guard and assist me. I allowed myself
to feel that I would like a little more of my
old liberty ; I even went so far as to feel
annoyed by his close, undivided attention.
It was a thoughtless, reckless emotion on
my part, but I was foolish enough to give
it a place In my bosom. Some of my fe
male friends joked me on the subjoct, and
I finally determined that I would not bo
quite so closely tied to my lover. I did
not stop to ask myself how I should feel
if he were less attentive to mo. I did not
reflect that I might have been very unhap
py had he bestowed his social favors upon
others of my sex ; in short, I did not reflect
at all. I was only seized with a reckless
determination to be a little more free and
independent.
" We had a picnic in the grove near our
village. I was buoyant and happy, and
laughed and chatted with all who came in
my way. We had a danco before dinner,
and George asked me if I intended to join
in the amusement.- I told him certainly.
He then took my hand and said he would
boar me company ; but I broke from him
with a laugh, telling him at the same timo
that I was engaged to danco with another.
He was disappointed I could see it at a
glance but he took it in good nature.
Before the second dance he came again ;
but again I told him I was eugaged. He
betrayed no ill feeling at all, only I could
see tho disappointment. In ' a little
while I was among a company of laugh
ing, joking, merry making friends of both
sexes who had been my companions for
years, and one of the geutlemen said I
must go to dinner with him. I knew that
George had made arrangements for me to
take dinner with him ; but what of that ?
Should I be tied to his skirts ? No. I meant
to be free and I told the man who made
the proposition that I would go with him. I
must have been blind, as I know I was
foolish and wicked; but I did not stop to
think. When tho dinner hour' arrived
George came with a happy, smiling, hope
ful face, and offered me his arm.
" For what ?" said I. " For dinner, my
dear," ho replied. Then I to'id him I was
engaged with another, and before his very
face I took the proffered arm of the man
to whom I had riven mv nromiso. re mar k-
' ing to tuy lover, as I tripped away, that he
would have to find some one else. I saw
the look he gave me a" look of pain, of
mortification aud of reproach and as I
called it to mind after I had reached the
table, I felt a little unoasyj but I said to
myself, He will come around all right,'
and thus I tried to pass it off. Towards
the latter part of the afternoon Georgo
came to me again. He asked me what I
meant by my treatment of him. IIo was
earnest and anxious. I told him he must
not question me in that manner. . ;
" But, he urged," " only tell me if you
mean anything by it."
"Yos,"saidI, "I do."
" And he asked me what it was. I told
him 1 meant to teach him a lesson.
" A lesson of what ?" he asked.
" Of good manners," said I. " I want to
teach you not to be too attontive to me.
And, I added, very thoughtlessly, "you
annoy me." '
"Ho did not answer mo. I saw his lip
quiver, and his manly bosom heave ; and
as he turned away, the sunbeams that camo
through tho branches of tho trees rested
upon the big tears rolling down his cheeks.
The impulse of my heart then was to spring
forward and detain him ; to ask his forgive
ness and make him happy. But a foolish,'
whimsical pride restrained mo. I let him
go, and tried to comfort myself with the
reflection that it would come out all right.
" When the party was breaking up, be
came and asked me if he should see me
home. He was very cool, and ' seemed
only to mean that he felt bound to make
the ofl'or, seeing ho had brought me there.
I was not goiug to accept any such offer as
that, and I told him I should not require
his attention.
"Polly," he said, "you do uot moan
this. ' Do not make me think that I have
mistaken you 1" He trembled as he spoke,
and I could seo that he was fearfully agi
tated. " But I hod gone too far to give up then,
and with a light laugh I turned from him.
I went home one way he went another.
All the next day I looked for him, but he
did not come. And a second day I watched;
and a third, and fourth. On the fifth day
I roccived a letter from him. It was from
a distant town whither ho had gone to
visit his widowed mother. He wrote mo
that ho feared he had been disappointed.
If I could trifle with bis heart then, I
might do it again. He said he was going
out west and might be gone some time. If
I still loved him when he returned I might
be sure of finding him unmarried, for ho
had no heart to give another. Still he
would like to hear from me ho would like
to see if I wished it. He wrote as ono who
had been deeply wronged, and there were
one or two sentences in the missive that
touched me unpleasantly. A week passed
away, and I did not answer it ; but at the
end of that time 1 made up my mind to call
George to me and confess my fault ; for
well I knew that I had been very wrong.
I wroto, and my letter reached its destina
tion just twelve hours after he hod started
on his journey.
" I never saw George Ashmun again. In
loss than a year he died in a mad house."
"He did wrong he did wrong very,
very wrong to leave me as ho did. IIo
ought not to havo done it He ought to
have made an effort for his own sake and
mine. I had done a wicked thing a cruel
thoughtless dood it was and the penalty
fell heavily upon me. -.
'.' Louisa, your mother asked me to tell
you my story. I have done so, , If it can
profit you I shall not regret the paiu I
have felt in the recital. That I havo not
ceased to sutler let these hot, bitter tears
bear witness. , Oh, of . all things within
the sphere of your influence, 1 beware bow
you triflo with a trusting, loving heart."
Silent and thoughtful did Louisa Burnet
return . to the parlor, and but very little
did she say on bor way home. On tho fol
lowing morning she wroto a brief notu,
and sent it to Henry Southron. Sho sim
ply asked hiia to come and see her. IIo
came, and when they were alone, she fell
upon his bosom, and asked him to forgive
ber. She gazed up through her streaming
tears, and begged for his love and confi
dence once more. Of course he could not
refuse. Perhaps be was never happior
than at that moment, for surely it must
have been a mighty love and a true devo
tion that could have prompted the course
the maiden had thus pursued.
Louisa never forgot the lesson she had
received. She became Henry Southron's
wife, and when, in after timos, she saw
husbands neglecting their wives, she had
occasion to thank God that she was blest
with the true and undivided faith and de
votion of her bosom companion.
Surely there is nothing on earth of more
worth than a faithful, virtuous aud de
voted life partner, and he or she who cau
triflo with the heart of such a one, only
sows the seed which shall yield a harvest
of paiu and remorse.
Wasn't Certain About It.
One of the most popular steamboat cap
tains in Mobile is Capt. Owen Finegan.
Another equally popular man, a good fel
low, but in "haid luck" (an ex-Confederate
Colonel,) was aooostcd on the street by a
stranger with the inquiry if he was "Owen
Finegan?" " "
"Well, I swear," says tho Colonel, "I
owe most everybody in Mobile, but I don't
think I owe Finegan anything." '
A Banker Sold.
A GOOD story is related of a wealthy
London banker, who is very good
natured but inclined to be a trifle fast In
his views of life. He had a favorite clerk,
a young man of about twenty-one, remark
ably handsome, modest and highly intel
lectual. For those qualities he was liked
by every one, and the banker did not es
cape the general feeling of good will. He
was as poor as his salary, and had no con
nections to push him after fortune.
The banker, on Sunday afternoon, when
no one was expected, would occasionally
ask the young man to visit his family at
his suburban villa ; as the conversation of
the young man was so corroct and clever,
it could not but be of advantago to his
children.
I have not mentioned that there was a
beautiful young daughter of nineteen, but
that may always be understood in any
English family that has known wedded
life long enough. But there wore, of
course, no attentions, on the part of the
young man, other than extremely delicate,
reserved and most proper. '
This will almost always be tho case
with English youth, as Americans well
know. Don't " ahem" after this. '
The youth, in spite of two or throe
days' invitation to the banker's seat to
breathe fresh air and clean his lungs of
London fog and smoke, was evidontly very
ill, and though he declared himself well
and robust, the banker shook his head.
" I cannot make out what is the matter
with my clerk," said the banker to a
confrere who was in the back office with
him, after the youth had brought in some
papers. r
" Well, you are green, I should say,
for a mau of your timo of lifo and exper
ience," said banker number two. "Don't
you seo what is tho matter? He's in
lovo." ' . j
" In love ! bah 1 IIo is modesty and pro
priety itself."
" I tell you it is a fact, and with a rich
old fellow's daughter who would no more
think of having him for a son-in-law than
you would."
"Oh tho haughty old fool ; my clork is
as good as his daughter, and be hanged to
him. Thank you for the hint." .
As soon as banker number two had dis
appeared, the young clerk was called in.
"So, sir, you are in love, and pining
away for tho object of your affection ;
that's tho secret, is it ? AVhy did you
not toll mo before, sir ?" The youth was
silent.
" Well, my boy, I pity you ; but I will
give you a word of advice. If tho daugh
ter is fair sho is worth running a risk for.
Look bore, there aro two hundred pounds,
and two mouths leavo of absence. Run
away with the girl.' Bah I don't look so
stupid 1 I did tho same before you, aud it
didn't hurt me."
The clerk fell on his marrow-bones, and
was upon tho point of making a clean
breast of it, when the old man aroso and
loft precipitately to avoid a sceno.
The young man considered, and acted,
and the consequence was that the next
day week there was no young daughter at
the dinner tablo of tho banker at tho coun
try house.
The house was in consternation, and a
search was niado in every direction.
A note, however, was found on her
dressing table, conveying the customary
prayer of forgiveness, and ono Inclosed
from tho young clork, stating that, boliove
ing the banker had meant to givo him a
hint in regard to his daughter, and was not
able to give his publio consent owing to
appearances, ho had acted on tho sugges
gestion, and, ere his "father-in-law" had
received tho letter ho would be his son-in-law.
Tho pill was bitter, and tho joke a tor
rible one against him, but the banker was
a good natured man, and hated ridicule,
so he took the bull by the horns at last,
and openly declared that he know perfectly
woll what he was about, and that he was
aware, all the time, who bis clerk was go
ing to run away with.
An Enoch . Ardeu
Appeared in Connecticut the other day.
As soon as he mado himself known the
latest husband walked up to him, shook
his hand cordially saying : " I'm mighty
glad you've got back, old fellow. Wo
thought you were dead. But I resign the
lovely partner of your youthful love with
out a muruier. Take her to your arms
again and bo happy with hor." " No you
don't," said Enoch. "I wouldn't have
como back, if I hadn't hoard that the old
gal was dead. I would not be the man to
interfere with, your connubial happiness.
I'm off for where I came from." And he
went away, leaving a disconsolate Philip
Kay in that town.
tW A San Francisco milliner recontly hit
upon a novel expedient to advertise her
store. She had among ber assistants one re
markably handsome young woman, and
having attired this damsel in the choicest
garments of the establishment, placed her
In tho window of the store. The girl stood
iu a half reclining attitude, perfectly still,
and very soon an immense crowd of people
had assembled to see the beautiful millin
er's sign. The crowd soon grew to a per.
feet mob, quite blocking the street until the
curtains were lowered and tho living model
relieved from her position.
Never Known to Fail!
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on TBB
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usual moacs 01 practice, imi ever ana Ague
Powders will effect a core in cases of the long
est standing, as woll as prove a preventive in
the forming stages of disease, Being purely
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ease, totally eradicating it from tho system,
and preventing a return at any future period.
vi ny waste your money ana health in trying
every medicine yon hear of, when Thompson's
Fever and Ague Powders havo never failed to
cure the Chills In any case.
REASONS WIIY THEY ONLY SHOULD BE
USED:
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' menorowaorsnave penormea miracles in
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Thtrt fa no If lair. In Tnlln Tl.- TK
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sult of the mauy nostrums of the day. Physi
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mo nyntviu m u m'uany suite, ana too patient
beyond the probability of a rolapBe.
BEWARE OF nnTTNTF.RWFiTa Tl,
genuine are put np In square tin boxes, with
"Thompson's Fever and Ague Powders"
suinipea on me nay ana the signature of
"Thompson & Crawford," on the wrapper
No others can possibly bo genuine. '
PREPARED ONLY BY
CRAWFORD & FOBES,
' UX Market St., Philadelphia.
THOMPSON'S
11 HEUMATIC
AND
HORSE LINIMENT,
The Great External Remedy for
lthcumatlsni, Neuralgia,
Sprains, Bruises, &c, &c
EQUALLY GOOD FOR MAN OR BEAST.
This Liniment has earned for Itself a reputa
tion unequalled in the history of external ap
plications. Thousand! who now sutler from
Rheumatism, Neuralgia, &c., would find im
mediate relief from all their pain by using this
certain romedy. It Is equally effectual in Cuts,
Burns, Scalds, Stiffness of the Neck, Bore
Throat, Swellings, Inflammations, Frost Bites,
Pains in-the Side and Back, Bites of Spiders
or etings of Insects. . One rubbing will in all
cases give immediate relief, and a few applica
tions complete a cure. On account of its pow
erful penetrating properties it is beyond doubt,
the SUREST REMEDY for the most trouble
soma diseases to which horses and cattle are
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and Sores, Chafes produced by collar or sad
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By Crawford fc Fobcs,
141 Market Street.
29bly PHILADELPHIA.
Neiv Millinery Goods
A.t IVo-wiJort, Ia.
IBEO to Inform the public that I have just re
turned from Philadelphia, with a Inl assort.
uieut of the latest styles of
MILLINERY GOODS.
HATS AND BON NUTS,
itlliltONH. KRKNCII FI.OWERH
FEATHERS, '
CHIGNONS,
LACE CAPER.
N0TI0N8,
And all articles usually foniM in a srst-Aima Mil
linery hstabllshment. All orders promptly at
tended to. mot We will sell all goods as Cheap as
cuu be got elsewhere.
DRKSS-MAKINO done tn order nnrl In tli la.
test style, as I get the latest Fashions from New
York every month. Goffering done to order, iu
all widths. I will warrant all my work toglve sat-
iDiaunuu, ah hoik uoiie as low as possiuie.
ANNIE ICKES,
Cherry Street, uear the Station,
8 16 13 Newport, Pa.
1. M. OIltVIN. t, h. awvia
J Mi GIltVIN & SON,
OoniDiiisMioii aiorclinnttSt
' No. 8, 81'KAR'S WHARF,
II a 1 1 1 m o r e . M 1 .
M.We will pay strict attention to the sale of al
kinds ot oountry produce, and remit the amount
promptly. i tally
New Fension Law.
UNIlKR an act of Congress approved March 3,
1H73, willows of olllcers who were killed, or
died of disease commuted In the service, ale now
entitled to tioo per mouth for euch of their chil
dren. The guardian of a minor child of a soldier who
heretofore only received H.Ot) per month pension
Is now entitled to 810. per inotli,
Holdlcrs who receive Invalid pensions can now
have their pensions Increased to any sum or rata
between $8. and SIS. per month. t
Soldiers who have lost their discharges can now
obtain duplicate.
Fathers and mothers who lost sons In the serv
ice upon whom they were dependent tor support,
cau also obtain pensions.
The undersigned having hsd over 10 jears ex
perience iu the Claim agency business will attend
promptly to claims under the above act.
Call ou or address
LEWIS rOTTElt,
Attorney for Claimants,
New Bloomticld,
Perry Co., Pa.
7 aotr.
Notice In Itunkriipfcy.
In the United States District Court. For the
Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
In the matter of Kilwln Slnimaii, Bankrupt,
To the creditors of said Bankrupt:
NOTIOIC Is hereby given that said Bankrupt
Ims tiled his petition for a discharge and a
eertlncalo thereof from all III debts and other
claims provable under the Kaukrupt Act of
March 2, 1SH7, and Hint thelilli of Heiitemlier, 187a,
fixed for the llual examination before Chas. A.
Harnett, one of the lU-glttnra In Bankruptcy at
his olttce 111 New lllimiulleld, J'erry eo.. I'a., at
lo o'clock a. in., and the IHtli day of Hcpteniber,
187.'), at 10 o'clock a. in., for the llual hearing
before the said Court at Philadelphia.
11 r omnia or Baiu Court.
August 12, 1873.
I