The Montrose Democrat. (Montrose, Pa.) 1849-1876, January 21, 1868, Image 1

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A. J. GERIUTSON, Proprietor.}
AUTUMN BLOSSOM 3.
How was it that I came to be
,an old
bachelor ? Not because of hating. wo
men, lam sure, for I liked them very
much, and never could have spoken to one
rudely or discourteously for my life. As
pearly as I know, it, was in this wise :
Father died, leaving a family of chil
dren, a wife, and an old father and moth
er, of whom only myself was able to earn
a dollar. lie had never saved anything.
So, after the first great grief, w h en we
had calmed down and were able to look
utters quietly. in the face, there was a
wretched sort of prospect for us. I was on
ly an accountant, and bad a young fel
low's babit of wasting my small salary in
a thousand different ways. I bad been
"paying attention" too, to Elsie Hall,
who, youflg'Od childish as she was, had
71 way that some girl do have of leading
their admirers into extravagance. Of aTI
the trials of that' never to be forgotten
time, I think the greatest was appearing,
niggardly to those baby blue eyes. Ldid
not mind wearing plain business suits,
discarding kid gloves,_and renouncing the
opera; but not, to lay those boquets, and
books, andiee creams, and dainty bits of
jewelry, and multitudinous invitations at
Elsie's.fee t t, was a terrible ordeal. I pass
ed it, though; and if ever man had rea-
Ron to be thankful I had, for the aequisi
t,ve little beauty jilted me in a month for
Tom Tandem, who was rich and lavish of
gift.solud who eloped from her, after a
marriage of ten months, with a singer at
the opera.
I worked day and night, and managed
ta keep the pot boiling, and to drive the
wolf from the door—the gaunt wolf, pov
erty, who howled a good deal about the
horse at first, and seemed inclined to
make a meal of us.-
Sometimes I used to . think how well it.
was for Elsie that she had not realiv lov-
d me, for she could have had nothing but
di,mal prospect of wearing out her
Duth in a dreary, hopeless engagement
.0 one too poor to marry. That was until
lout ran off. Then I thought it would
ave been even better for her to have
,ared our humble home and poor fare,
nd the love - I - coed - have given her, than
Jbe deserted so. And I phied ifer, as if
had not proved helseifheartless. But
never went near hyr,. of course, aid
aver even spoke of her to my mother.
I grew no younger all this white, and
er...rs- year seetnEd to add five to my looks.
I had never been very handsoine'nr very
lerry, and - soon I became conscious of a
T•culiar rniddle'sged look, which settles
sown on some people very early.
Strangers, too, began to take me for
head of the family; and once, in a
tiv neighborhood, the butcher winded to
- my wife:" I found out that he meant
ay mother, and only wondered that it
was not dear old grannie.
She was eighty, grandfather ninety,
and they died one bright ThAksgiving
.ay, before prosperity came to us—died
within an hour of each other—for grannie
'lst said :
"I think 11l lie down a bit, now Lem
ael don't need me. I'm very tired."
Then she kissed me, and said :
" You've been a good boy to your
zrandpa, Edward. You'll have that to
;hint: of."
And when next we looked at her she
ras dead, with ber cheek upon hdr band,
ke a sleeping child.
So two were gone, and we were sadder
':.an before. And then Jane, my eldest
tister, married at sixteen, a clergyman
/lio carried her off to nindostan in her
Honeymoon.
„And we could none of us feel the wed
:.ng, a happy thing.
But prosperity did come at last. I had
worked hard for and anything'a man
makes his sole object itt this life he is very
Eure to attain.
We were comfortable—easy. Ah, what
word that is after years of struggle. At
last we were rich. But by that time I
was five and forty—a large, dark, middle
aged man,-Wittra face - that3Ooked to my 7
self in the glass as though it were perpet
ually intent on figures. The girls' were
married. Dick bad taken to the sea, and
we saw him once a year or so, and Ash
ton was at home with mother and myself
—the only really handsome member of
our family, and -just two and twenty.
And it was on his birth day, I remember,
that letter came .to me from poor Hunter
—that letter which began
'
" Wlienthe s te lines reach you, Ned
Sanford; }shall have my six feet of earth
—till I. ever owned, or would if I had liv
ed to be an hupdred."
We had been young together, though
he was really older than I; and we had
been, close friends ()nee, bnt a roving fit
had seized him and we' had not met for
Years. I knew he had married a young
Soutbern girl, and knew no more, but
now he told me that she' was , dead and
that his death would leave a daughter au
orphan.
" Sbeisliot quite penniless," he wrote;;
` for her mother had a little income,,
which, pee'r:US was, I was never brutp
enough to meddle with, and it has descen
ded to her. But I have been a rolling
"tone,
gatherinwno moss all my life, and.
``v - tutve Wever stiaineng .enough io one
Place to make -friends. Wilt you be her
=IMMEN;ME
guardian ? It is u tlytfig man's; hum rif:
quest--!--" .i r
And ;then• he'iwrote some words, coming
from •his heart,ll knew, which, being of
myselfa cannot. quote even here—l Could
not think that deserved them:
And the result of that letter, and of
another from the lawyer who had Annie
Hunter's little fortune in charge, was that
one soft spring;day found me on board of
p, great. - which: lay at rest after
her voyage in the protecting arms of
great New York, with two little hands
in mine and a pair of :great brown eyes
lifted to my face, and a sweet voice chock.
ed With subs saying something:of " poor
papa," and of how much he hadspoken of
me, and of the lovely voyawe,.and•• the
green graves left behind, ane'l, who had
gone to meet a child- and founai-ameman,
looking at her and feel*, toward her as
I had never looked upon nor felt to any .
other.
Not to Elsie It was not the boy
ish love dream come again.
Aral3zing the emotion, I found only a
great longing to protect and comfort her
to guard her from every pain and ill;
and I said to Myself—this is as a father
must feel to a daughter; I can be a pa
rent to Geo. Hunter's child in very truth.
And I took her hone to the old house
and to my old mother. I thought only
of thoge; somehow' I never thought of
Ash t or.
Shall I ever forget' how she brightened
the sotnbre rooms ? How, as her sad:
ness wore away, she sang to us in the
twilight ? How strangely a something
which made the return home and the long
hours of the evening seem so much
brighter than they had ever been before,
stole into my life. I never went to sleep
in church now ! I kept awake. to look at
Olive Hunter—to listen to her pure con
tralto as she joined the singing. Some
times I cauplit her eye, her great unfath
omable brown, for she had a habit of look
ing at me. Was she wondering how a
face could be so stern and grim ? I used
to ask myself.
Ashton used to look at her also. He
had been away when she first came to us,
and when he returned, she was a grand
iurprise to him.
"Good Heavens ! how lovely she is 1"
he bad said to me.
" She is very pretty," I replied."
Ashton laughed.
•° May I never be, an old bachelor if it
brings we to calling such a girPvery pret
ty,' he said; and I fi-It conscious that my
cheek flushed and I' felt angry that he
should have spoken to we thus, though I
never eared before.
They liked each other very much—
those two young things. They were to
gether a great deal. A pretty picture
they made in the Venetian window in the
sunset. He was a fair haired, blue eyed,
English loooking youth; she so exquisite
ly dark and glowing.
Every one liked her.. Even my old
clerk Stephen Badly used to say her
presence ht the office more than a dozen
lamps, the nearest approach to a poetical
speech of which Stephan was ever known
to be guilty; and I never knew how much
she was to me until one evening, when,
coming home earlier than usual I saw in
that Venetian window where Ashton and
Olive had made so many pleasant pictures
for me, one that I never forgot—that I
never shall forget as long as I live.
She stood with her back to me. ash.
ton was kneeling at her feet; ' The sound
of the opening door dissolved the picture,
but I had seen it, and I stole away, to
bide the stab that it had given the.
I sat down in my .'own room and hid
my face in my hands, and would, have
been glad to hide it beneath mycoflin lid.
"knew now that I loved Olive Hunter;
that "loved her not as an old . mankinight
love a child,•bnt aka younk man might
love the woman who ought to be his wife
—better than I had loved Elsie Hall ; for
it was not boyish passion, but honest,
heart felt love.
I love! I arose, and looked in:mir
ror, and my broad shbuldered reflection
blushed before my gaze.
The,spring time of my life had flown,
and My summer had come and gone, and
in the autumn I had dreampt of love's
bud and blossom. '
Yes, I bad dreamt of it; I knew it now.
And she might have loved me had I had
AshtOp's soft skin, •hlue eyes,'
and grace
ful figure, and his youth and light hear
tedriess. Oh, the bright possibilities' of
that might have been !
I knelt beside My lied, and prayed, that
I might not hate rn brother—that I
might not envy hint. Ills touch upon my
door Startled me; Ilecame in with some
thing in his manner not usual to giro, and
sat down just opposite-to the. 'For a few
moments we were silent. Thei)
speaking rapidly:lnd blushing like a girl
"Ned, old fellow, you—yOu saw me
making a fool of myself just. now, I sup-
pose ?"
" I saw you on your knees," I said.
And thought me a silly fellow, eh?
But you don't knOIVNed. You 'can't
understand, you hare:' been' SO
cool all the days of your, life_ through,
you knoir. She's driving Men:tad. Ned,
I - do believe sbe likes me, but she 'Won't
say yes.'''`l'd give my :'right' for'her
Inve. hive it, and `'think yon
can help me, Ned. From something she
M3=EMMME!MM
MONTROSE, PA., TUESDAY, JAN. 21, 1868.
l'helieve she thinksyou would dis-
Spprovel perhaps that yon are one to mar
ry for money: . Tell her your'e riot, Ned,
dear old fellow—tell her you have no ob
jection, and I'll never forget it, indeed I
won't, l" •
"Taller I have no objection," I re
peated mechanically.
"You know you are master here, and
as much my father as if you really were
one instead of a brother," said Ashton.
"If I did not know how kindly you had
always felt tons both, I shouldn't con
fide in you, for it's a serious thing , to be
in love, Ned, and you may thank Heaven
that you. know nothing of it."
Know nothing of it 1 alt, if' he could
have read my heart just then 1
"I'll do what I can, Ashton," I said at
last. "I'll try my best,
And he sung his arms about me in his
own boyish fashion, and he left me alone
—along with my owu timughts.
He had said truly: I had been like a fa
ther to him.' I was old enonglito be hers,
and no one should know my silly dream.
I would bide it while I lived. As I had
said once," "I've only the old folks and
the children now," I mid then, " I will
only think- of mother and Ashton. ' Let
my own lire be as nothing—l have lived
for them; if needs be, I can die for them."
But I would not see or speak to Olive
that night, nor until the next day was
quite done. Then, in the twilight, I sat
beside her and took her hand.
"Olive," I said, " I think you know
that Ashton loves you. lam sure he has
told you so. And you can—can you not
love him ?"
She drew her hand from mine, and said
not one word.
" I should rejoice in my brother's hap
piness. I should think him happier in
having your love than anything else could
make him." I said " I toad him I would
tell you so."
And then she spoke :
" You wish mo to marry Ashton ?"
Reproach was in her tone—reproach
and sorrow.
" If you can love him, Olive," I said.
She arose. She seemed to ink from
me, though in the dark I could not see her
face.
"I do not love him," she said.
And we were still as death. Then,
suddenly, Olive Hunter began to sob.
" You have been very kind to me. I
love you all," she said; " but I cannot
stay here now. Pleaie to let use go some
where else. I most--=I cannot live here."
"Go from us, Olive ?" " Nay, we are
no tyrants; and once assured you do not
love him, Ashton will—"
" Hush !" she panted—" bush ! Please
let me go away ! Please let me go away!"
The moon was rising. Her new born
light feel upon Olive's face. Perhaps its
whiteness made her look so pale.
She leaned against the wall with her
little held upon her heart, her unfathona
ble eyes full of pain. How bad I hurt her
so ? A new thought struck me.
" Perhaps you love some one, Olive ?"
I said.
And at that she turned her face from
me and hid it in her hands.
" Too much—too much. Yon might
'have spared me that," she said. let me
go away. I wish you had never brought
me here."
And I arose and went to her. I bent
over the woman I loved. I touched ler
with my hand ; her soft hai r brushed my
cheek.
" Olive," I said, " if coming here has
brought pain upon you, I wish I had not.
I would have died to make you happy."
And my voice trembled, and my hand
shook, and she turned her face toward me
again and looked into my eyes. What she
saw in mine I do not knoW,—the truth, I
think. In hers I read this: that I was not
old to her; not too old to be loved.
I stole my arm about her ; she did not
untwine it. I uttered her name, "Olive,"
huskily. Afterwards, I told her of my
struggle with myself; not then. I said :
"Olive, I love you, but it cannot be you
care for me. lam old enough to be your
father."
And again I saw in her eyes.the happy
truth ; and took her to my heart. And I
was not old, or even middle aged, but
young again in the bliss of that bright
moment, and . I think I have been growing
younger ever since.
But we kept our secret for a while, for
we both loved Ashton, and both knew his
wound was not too deep to find a balm ;
and : .within a year, when the boy brought
hoine,a bride, a pretty creature whom he
loved, and who loved him, I claimed
Olive.
And she is mine now ; and the autumn
blossoms of my heart will only fade on
earth to bloom again through all eternity.
Fir A schoolmaster tells the follow.
ing anecdote : I was teaching iu a quiet
country village, and it was the second
morningof my session. Among the scan
ty furniture of the school I espied a three
legged"siool. qs_this the dunce block ?'
I asked ota little girl of Sve. The dark
eyes sparkled, the curls nodded assent,
and the lips rippled out, 6 I guess so, the
teacher sits on it."
•
Pr Raising provisidne for the war—
planting caribou.
DE=WEI!=O
The "Zartyr President" and his Wife's
Old Clothes.
The story of Mrs. Lincoln's old clothes,
as told by the radical press, does not leave
the reputation of the "lamented" Abra
ham Lincoln any purer than it ought to
be. Don Platt's newspaper, the Mat-a;
cheek Press, extreme Radical, in a late ar
ticle shows up Mrs. Lincoln's wardrobe,
and the doings in the White House in a
new light. We commend the following
extf4cts to the attention of the Union
League and followers of this county, and
ask them if it does not present a beauti
ful picture to the world, of the corrup
tions of the White House and its inmates
during the last administration. Don Pi
att says :
" Well, it is shameful enough, God
knows, but in what way it is to attach to
the Republican organization we are at a
loss to discover. .That the advertisement
so widely made at this woman's request,
exhibits not only her greed, but the cor
rupt condition of the government in which
she took so prominent part, we are pre
pared to admit, and in this view it is dam
aging to the late administration. But the
cry of ingratitude is too silly for refuta- I
ton. It was known to the wide circle.
that business or social life brought in con
tact with the Executive mansion, that its
interior was as gross, vulgar and corrupt
as it was possible for any house to be and
retain even a semblance of respectability.
The startled public now reads its history
in a forty thousand dollar wardrobe,
made tip of shawls, laces and diamonds,
the giftt- of "dear friends"—how "dear,"
the poor public is now realizing in the
millions that shameless thieves have sto
len and arc yet stealing. The saddest
part of all this is the tarnish it casts upon
the sainted memory of the martyr Presi
dent. How was it possible that these
gifts from " dear friends" were paid for in
lucrative offices, given under the signature
of Abraham Lincoln, without that shrewd
man being aware of the infamous charac
ter of the official, and the nature of the !
bargain that brought him into office ?
This is a surmise only, but Thurlow Weed "
seems determined to bring the business
home to the late president.
Mr. Weed might have added the fact
that this refusal to approve of a bare fac
ed swindle cost Mr. Smith his seat in the
cabinet, Mr. Lincoln so far sympathizing
with his wife in this extraordinary trans
action. Mrs. Lincoln was not only as
unprincipled and avaricious as the late
sale indicates, but she was and is exceed
ingly ignorant and stupid, and yet how
are we to account for the control she ex
ercised over the domestic life and public
affairs of the lamented president. We
remember how pained the loyal hearts of
the Union were to learn that in the dark
est hour of our national pride, when our
armies were paralysed%y imbecility, and
our treasury was being robbed by dishon
est agents, while the artillery of the enemy
echoed through the very halls of the cap
itol, a dancing, drinking entertainment, or
ball was given -at the White House. This
was shocking, but it became horrible
when the fact leaked out that, while the
noise of revelry shook the time honOred
mansion, in one of the upper chambers a
child of the host and hostess lay djring of
a fever, that had set in and alarmed-.the
family physician, when the cards of invi-
I tation were being issued. We turn away
from the inner life of this White House,
that was indeed a whitened sepulchre; in
sorrowing disgust, and feel ashamed
through all our being that the curtain was
ever lifted to let light in on its loathsome
contents."
What a picture for our own country
and the world to contemplate ! A cabi
net minister is removed by the President
because be refuses to pay a fraudulent
bill presented by the President's wife.
This makes the late President a party to
that swindling transaction. Mr. Lincoln
must have been aware that the gifts from
"dear friends" were paid for in lucrative
offices given under his own signature.
Reader, what think you when you are
told by a personal and political friend of
President Lincoln, that everything within
the White House, during his administra
tion "was as gross, vulgar and corrupt as
it, was possible for any house to be and re
tain even a semblance of respectability."
We had rather these things, for the
credit of the country, had not been made
knowb, but as they are now divulged by
the friends of the late President, we are
in favor of having them ventilated to the
bottom.
agr' An affectionate but playful wife in
Springfield, Mass., sent a note to her has
band recently, written in a disguised hand
signed with a fictitious name, stated she
had often seen and admired him, and if
he would inform her of a place of meeting
she would go over to the rooms and they
would become better acquainted. Uus
band answered the note at once, appoin
ting time and place of meeting. Both
parties met at the appointed time and
place, the 134 heavily veiled, and pro
ceeded to the rooms, where the veil was
moved, and a grand tableamenot dbwn on
the bills ensued. Assurance made on the
part of the husband - that it was nothing ,
but a juke, and that .he kne* it was her
all the time. ,Nife is havi . pg. stylish
bonnet,•ntiv Moak" and elegant silk dreSs
made.
E=E!MEMMWM
=MMiMASM
liblitatton'al;
Proceedings of the Susquehanna, Conn-
The Stisqu'a County Teachers' Institute
met at,Montrose Monday, Jan. 6th, 1868.
Sup't Watson being
.constituted Chair
man, ex officio, called the meeting to or;.
der, and after a few preliminary remarks,
proceeded to complete the organization
and enrollment of Teachers •in attend
ance. Messrs. T. W. Tinker and Elmer
Stuart wereelected Vice Presidents, and
H. N. Tiffany, Seo'y, Supt. Watson be
ing Treasurer, ex officio.. Messrs. W. J.
Tinker, Samuel Wright and O.E. French
were appointed Committee •On Constitu
tion. Prof Charles W. Sanders of New
YOrk City . was,now introduced to the In
stitute as One ofits futureinstructore,and
after some very interesting introductory
remarks, took up the classification of let
ters phonetics, showing not only how
—but why—so arranged. The report of
the committee on Constitution was pre-'
sented, accepted, and committee excused.
The Constitution, presented was adopted.
Adjourned to 6!45 p. m.
Evening session..—Miss Helen Hartley
read an essay on English,Grammar,which
elicited it spicylisousSicin; The Institute
spent a short time discussing a few ques
, dons, suggested by the audience.
Wm. H. Jessup Esq. then delivered a
highly instrective address upon Educa
tional Progress. From the peculiar fea
tures of our System of government, he de
duced its special relation to the youth as
the proper guardian of their interests;
showing that as intelligence is the boasted
corner stone of American institutions, the
stropg arm of legislative enactment must
not only protect our school syStern, but
ever aid it in its contest with willful io•no
ranee and Miscalled conservatism. • Mr.
I Jessup referied to the period when he
taught in thiS county, and remarked tbo
improvement; in school buildings ann . fur
niture, and the zeal for self-culture infus
ed into the Mass of teachers, and their
consequent growing enthusiasm in the
profession. The latter fact was sufficient
ly apparent from the drain made upon
the 'number! of our most experienced
teachers by other counties, who, apprecia
ting their abilities, by enlarged compen
sation made: a successful claim for their
their services. Withprophetic eye the
speaker urged attention to the Power
and Influence of the Common- School in
moulding the past and impressing the fu
ture history of our country and common
wealth.
Sup't Watson made some well-timed
remarks, commending the teachers for
their zealousi support and grand rally.—
Prof. Sanders closed the evening's work
with some very pleasant reminiscences of
his school-boy days, and the memorable
spelling of Eggpit (Egypt), and conclu
ded by reading a humorous poem.
Tuesday morning.—Revs J. G. Miller
made a brief and pointed address, and
then-as , chaplain, conducted the devotion
al exeicises, itftbir which the Institute was
separated into two divisions, which alter
nately, occupied different rooms, listened
to' disebssious on written Arithnietic' by
Profs. S. J. iCoffini of Lafayette College,.
Easton, and W. S. Schofield, of Philadel
phia; Elocution, by Prof. Sanders, and an
explanation Of the principles and practical
application of the metricsystem of weights
and measures recentlylegalized by Con
gress, by Prof. Coffin. Prof. Sanders
then pronminced fitly test words, which
were written by the teachers, and which
were fully as keen as the contestants' ap-
petites for dinner.
Afternoon session.—lmproved methods
in arithmetical instruction were thor
oughly dismissed in the two divisions un
der the charge of Messrs. Schofield and
A. W. Larrabee. The two divisions uni
ted and took up the subject of Algebra, as
presented by Prof. Coffin ; Grammar, by
C. W. Deans, and Elocutionary Practice,
by Prof. Sanders.
Evening session.—Mr. A. Tcrl Larrabee,
Misses Clara Lyon and Stella Morse were
appointed a committee on Resolutions.—
The Practice Of Teaching was the theme
of an origindl poem, read by Mies Clara
Lyon. It Was witty and practical, and
well merited th'erequest made for its pub
lication. "liniqueness in Tea Ching," as
handled by Prof. Sanders, needs no com
mendation. -
Wednesday morn.—Snggest ve remarks
proving that rank and position are in onr
own hands; were offered by Rev: Mr. Mil:.
ler. Messrs': Schofield, Coffin, Deans and
Sanders resumed their previous topics,
and the meeting closed with Welkimed
remarks on the importance of the work of
teaching, by Rev. IV. C. Tilden, of Forest
Lake.
Afternoon session.—The divisions wore
engaged in GeogiaPhy, lucidly treated by
Misses Guernsey and 'Williams and Sup.
Watson ; in'Arithmetic and Grammar by
Profs. Coffin and Deans. A report on
Penmanship was read -by 11. N. Tiffany,
who urged the necessity.of instruction in
this branch, claiming that knowledge and
facility of execution were requisite to it,
Whether considered as 'a science or an art.
That' we event better'teaching, and' then
we'vcill'have better writers.
Evening' Reß ion ;- An `able repart on
.WOLVME XXV, - NUMBER: 4: :
ty Teachers' , Institute.
dratrigiar by *A: W. Lariabee, W,aa ;elf.
lowed by the recitation of a poem, entj• T
tied '"The Everlikinct "Memprial,!' .111 1 ,
Miss Susan 11 ' Responsibilitieopf
parents and teachers in the dill:l6o6*a
children, and how we teach unfirritCFn.
volnines by our every word,' loOk
tion, were most happily discussed totrint."
Allen: Prof. Sanders entertained the In-
stitute by reading, which licyrefaceaSy .
a few interesting suggestions, upon the
importance of looking after the edtleatiOg.
of children.
Thursday morb, , —Theory, Of tholcinii.!
ation of Rock, by E. W. Rogers, Of Proy
idence. Geography, by Prof. Allen, ant
Reading by Pref. Sanders.
Afternoon session.-Gram mar, by Prof.
Deans. This was followed by Prof. Cot:
fin, with an aniroatea and interesting
" History of EaStern Pro.,
Allen talked to the Institute upon Mtscet , '
laneous subjects of interest, and Phonetics'
was taken up by Prof. Sanders._ ' -
Evening, sess.—Concert readirig bysett. 4
en young ladies, and a fine recitatien,hy'
Miss Hattie Fitch. The iMportande,of i
cultivating the imagination, was veri,
ably arid closely bandied and clearlyiln:'
'
cidated by Prof. Edward Brooks,'Pritteti
pal of Millersville State NOrmal Sehoit
The evening closed with an amusing Prob.
lem by Prof. Sanders:
Friday morn.—Miscellaneous exereispEt
by Profs. Brooks and Allen,' which , were':
followed by short animated' remarks by'
Prof. Coffin, Wm. H. Jessup, Esq., Rev.
Mr. Miller and others. Messrs. A. W.,
Larrabee, J. S. Gillem, Misses M. J. Cark',
8.E., Clara Lyon and Susan Belcher were,
nominated committee on Tethers' Perm
, anent Certificates. As there was no otK,
' position, the Institute instructed the Sec
retary to cast the vote, which was dope,
Report of committee on Resolutions ac
cepted, and committee excused. After
very sharp and spirited ascUssion wheth 7
er those who had willfully stayed away_'
from the Institute, or had• tried to keep
others away, should be censured, the gen. ,
eral feeling was to put as lenient a cons
struetion upon the matter as possible, -
reasoning that such had harmed none but
themselves in thus failing to appreeiato
its worth and pleasure. The following
resolutions were adopted :
Whereas, The teachers of - Strqueleaniis
County have under the supervision of
Sup't Watson, occupied the past week in
drill exercises and in counseling each.oth
r regardinc , the best methods of teach •
ing, aided and encouraged by able instruct
tors and authors from abroad, and feel it
a privilege, as well as a duty, to offer the
following resolutioris expressive of the
feeling of this our first County Institute,
held under the provisions of the Penn'a
School Laws, (act of Ap. 9, 1867.) There
fore, be it
Resolved, That §yp't Watson not only
merits the admiration of every member or
this Instittqp for beimj the skillftd lever
which hasVo successfully moved our Ikea,
sions, but deserves the gratitude of the
people of Sasq'a county, for the impetus
be is giving to the cause of education
Resolved, That the labors and. - Immor...
one variety of that sturdy pioneer of Elo- ,
cation, Prof. Chas.W. Sanders, have bees.;
to us a priceless boon, •• , - • •
Iteso/ved,', That the gratitude ofthis In , '
stitute be tendered to Prof.'Seldei
fin for his apt treatment of Mathernattatii
especially the Metric System of weights
and measures, and that we congratulate:
Lafayette College upon having him ituotig
its corps of instructors).
Resolved, That the advice springing'
from Prof. Allen's long and varied ezperi- -
dice shall quicken and encourage us' in
the discharge of our duties, while in, our
daily professions we will practice hisi kW- .
den precepts.
Resolved, That the good seed sown by
Edwaid A. Broo N ks, A. M., which We ,
humbly trust has fallen upon good grelundy
shall be nurtured with assiduous 'care •
that it may bring forth an hundred . ?folk ,
thus bestowing upon him the teaeber's
noblest reward,,the fruit of his Inhere
blessing mankind. i
Resolved, That, while we regret the rib- -
settee of Prof. C. W. Deans in thin the
closing session of our Institute, we tender
our heartfelt thanks for his ready and ear- .
nest instruction in Grammatical AnUlysii, l
O
and may he continue to bless the n 0. ,"
try. R
. I ! • .
esolved, That the School, .....threiatore
present here from day to day, and these
who have so generously assisted'and en
couraged the teachers to attend the Matti
tute have thereby shown us they tompre. 7 .,
bend the condition of the cause of educa
tion, and they will long be remembered . :
by appreciative teachers. . ... . .fe r •r
Resolved, That the thanks of tiiii:Aitie- - '
elation be extended l'o Messrs.,E; W, Re ,
gers and W. S. Behofield - Or; their:able
and timely instruction,' ' 'Aid, to Bei. 'et ' '
G. Miller for his resertiSelAnd tts,sia *Tee.E
also, to Win. • li. essup, Ettiii; for hi abbe'
l i
lecture; also, to ary J: Carr, 11.`E`;',, and.
her class, for they - gyreriastielexercisei t ,'
and to all those who have favorediti*lth
musics during the IRessions. "" ! •''
Resolved, .That we return our Lban.,l-
. r 0
the kind people of Montrose andipiollinri,
for their hOspitality and the lively. T4i r ..
est - .ll9.nifested iaour,lnstit,ute4 and.:espe
eially.to this - Board ofSchool,Diriectokalot ,
,their noble zeneret . iity in' 'neSti 0444, go"'
sofiook that - the' lntititate might illeies
I'o D'lqdt
t
t• i t . rept 1