The Montrose Democrat. (Montrose, Pa.) 1849-1876, January 05, 1870, Image 1

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DEMOCRAT
‘ E. B. HAWLEY, Proprietor.
goinuo (Su do.
LEWIS KNOLL,
MAVIS() AND HAIR DRESSING.
Shop In the new Postallee building, where he will
be toned ready to attend all who may want anything
in his Hos. Montrose, Pa. Oct. 13, 1063.
P. REYNOLDS,
AUCTIONEER—SeIIa Dee Goods, and Mardianlze--alro
Winds al Vendues. All order' , left at my house will
receive prompt attention. pet. I, IBo—lf
0. M. HAWLEI',
DEALER In DRY GOODS. GROCERIES, CROCKERY
Hardware, Hata, Capp. Itoota.Shoca. Ready Made Cloth
int. Paints, OUn, etc., Near Billiard. Pa. ISept. '6%
DR. S. W. DAYTON,
Pfl CIAN - a SUIRGEON. tenders his servires In
the eitizeae of °rest Bend* and vicinity. Office at Ma
tesidenee, opposite Barnum lbs.°. d't. Bond village.
Sept. 1•t, 13u1. it
LAW OFFICE,
CHAMBERLIN S McCOLLUM. Attorneys and Conn.
vellora at Law. Office In the Brick Block over the
Bank. M °lnman Ang. 4. tam.
A. CaAiliasnim. - J. B. McCou.cai.
A. & D. R. LATIIROP,
DEALERS in Dry Goods. Groceries,
mockery and glaermarertable end pocket cutlery.
Palate. ells. dye stuffs. Date. boots and chore. role
leather. Perfumery Le. Brick Block. adjoining the
Bank. Montrose. [lingnet It, 1%9 —U
A. LATanor, • ' - • D. IL Lstarror.
A. 0. WARREN,
ATTORNEY A. LAW. Bounty, &lel; Pay. ?elision
and Exem on Claims attended to. Ware d -
oor below Boyd's Store, Hon t rose. Ps. [Au. I, 'G
WM. A. CHOSSMON,
Attorney at Lass, Montrose, Susq's Co. Po_ can he
toand at all reasonable bucness hours at the County
Commtssooners' Office. [Montrose, Aug. 1, 1809.
W. WI. WATSON,
ATTORNEY lIT LAW, Montroac, Pa. Office With L
1, Met. [Montruae, Ang. 1, 1569.
M. C. SUTTON,
Auctioneer, and Insurance Agent,
ata 6911 FrlendsVllle, Pa.
C. S. GILBERT,
..9.1.2.401t1033-coox -. .
Grent Bend, Pa
Mr. EA.
anti 6911
All ELY,
Q. 8. 11.1.2.citioxiaor.
Ape. 1, 11 , 69. Add Brooklyn, Pa
301E0i GROVES,
MNABLE T JI4 Montrose. Pa. Shop over
Cbandlcre Store. AP order, 61k dln ntat rate style.
Vottinn done on short notlde. and warranted to tit.
W. W. SMITH,
CABINET AND CllAllt MANUFACTUBEICS.--Y.to
c Nagiastrecs, Boranme.. jaug. 1. ISO
H. Et VEC R ITT,
DEALER In Staplc and Fancy Dry lioodo. Crocter3
klardleare, Iron, Stoves, Dra s. , Oils.and Paints
Boassand Shoes, flats b caps, Fars, Swink, Rob.,
Groceries, Provisions, i.e.. New ?dllfeed, Pa
DR. E. P. DINES,
llas penannently loca,rd .t Friendevitle for the pur
pose of pramaclng t0..-41ne and sorgvry In all ft
branches. Jle ma) be I .pnd at Ibe J.scLeun fetter
Office hourrfrom 8 ft. m . to 3 p tn.
Priendsville; Ps., Aug,. I 1689.
STROUD & BROWN,
FIRE AND LIFE 1:7% - :AANCIEL AC ENTIA. AI7
business attended to prunlp• ly. on fair term.. Ordee
Mara door north ofMetal-emu. eidt
Public Avenue., Montrose. Pa. [Ain 1. nuZ.
Bui.cios Sruorro. - - enazu.r.s 1.. Ennuis.
BALDWIN, ALLEN & D'CAIN,
Dealers In Flour, Sell, Pork, Fish, Lard, Grain, and
Feed, Also, Groceries, oneh it. sugar.. )Inl
Tea- Coffee. Syrups, Caudle,. ac Went side of
Public AVetille. [Nlutalose, Aug.
JOHN SA ILTTTE it,__
RESPECTFULLY announcer that he try p,
pared to cot all kinds of Garments in the mos.
fashionable Style. Teal -ranted to At with sic:ans.
Rd ease. Shop overlbe Pool OE - 4 . lhlontrnar, Pa
WM. D. LUSH,
ATTORNEY AT LAW. Montrose. I's. Other oppo.
site the Tart.rn House. near t he Court Hoes,
Actg.
DR. W. W. SYIIITEI,
DENTIST. Dooms over Boyd & Corwin'■ Hard
ware Store. 001 es hoer. from 9 a. m. to 4p. m
Itantrosv, Aug. 1, 180.—U
ABEL TERRELL,
D6ALEI3 In Drugs, Patent Medicines, Chemical.
Liquors. Paiute, CM*Dye MT, Varnishes. Win
Glass, Groceries, Gimm Ware, Wall and Window Ps,
per, Stoneware, Lamps, Kerosene, Machinery Oils
Tr Wises, Gnus, Ammunition, Knives, Spectacles
Brash.. Fancy Goods, Jewelry, Perin . IV.
bete: None orthe most numerous, extensive, and
valuable collections of Goods In Suannebanns Co. —
Entablishcd in 1558. [Montrose, Pa.
D. W. SEARLE,
ATTOIMEY AT LAW. office over the Store of A.
Lathrop. In the Brick Block. Montrose, Pa. IsnlYo
E. L. Wrn,
E. L. WEEKS A. CO
Dealer* in Dry Goods, Clothin:. Ladies and M
flag Mmes. tiso, agents fnr the groat American
Tea and Coffee Complay [Montrone, Pa , nog 1,'9,
DR. IV. L. RICHARDSON,
PITFSICIAN & SURGEON. tenders his professitnnl
ser•iees to the citizen, of Montrose sod virintty.—
Office at his residence, ou tho corner east of Sayer &
Bros. Foundry. [Au:. 1, MS.
DR. E. L. GARDNER,
PHYSICIAN and SURGEON. Ilontrose. Pa. Olrece
especial attention to distmses of the Heart and
Lange and all Surgical diseases. °Mee over W. S.
Dean.. Boards at Searle's floiel. [Aug. 1. MA.
BURNS & NICHOLS,
DZAt .11.8 in Drugs, Medicines, Chemicals. rip,
at ..fts, Paints, Oils. Varnish. Liquor*, Spices. Fanc
ay. t .ca. Patent Medicines. Perfumery and Toll.-? A r
tiler. per Yreecrtpthun. carefully compounded.—
Puolle Avenue, above bearle's Hotel, lifoutrose, l'a
A. 1.1. Buns., silos NicaoLs.
Ave. I, 18G2
DR. E. L. lIA_NDRICE,
PHYSICIAN a BURGEON. respectfully tenders bt
professional services to the citizen of Friend:vale
and vicinit. PEr °Mee hallo office of Dr. Lee ,
J
Boards st J. nosford`s. Aug. 1.180.
SOLDIERS' BOUNTY,
PENSIONS. and DACE PAY.
Thennderaigned. LICENSED AGENT of the GOV.
MOMENT. having obtained the neeciaary forma
&e.. srAl glee prompt attention to all claims Intrust&
to his care. No charge cutlet* eueceasfiti.
GEO. P. corrrial.
Montrose. Jane 4th. 1504.
D ENTISTRY
All those In want of false Teeth or other dental work
should call at the office of the subscribers, who are pre
pared to do all kinds of work in their lineon short notice.
Particular attention paid to making full and
setts of teeth on gold, silver, or aluminum plate ; arl d
Weston'. cast composition ; the two latter preferable to
any of the:cheaper substances now need for dental plates.
Teeth of yommpersons regulated, and made togrow In
Want shape.
The advantage of having work done by permanently la
eated and responsible parties, must be apparent to all.
All work warranted. Please call and examine speci
mens of plate work at our office. Over Boyd eh Co's hard
ware store.
W. W. SMITH & BROTHER.
Montroac, Aug, 11, 1869.—tf
TEE PLACE TO BUY YOUR
GOODB, and to get bargains. is 111
ROSZNIMACT. 4 Co'a.
Notro Corm.
"The Beautiful Snot•."
As we sit by our Sanctum Window, Old
Winter is sending out his sentinels, pre
paratory to taking possession of his King
dont. The little white fleeces
"Fall as silent and still
As snow flakes on the hilL
And we are reminded of that most exqui
site and touching piece, entitled the cap
tion of this article.' We have o ften see n
it in print before, but it will bear a hund
red readings, and new beauties will be
discovered on each perusal.
It was written by a celebrated lawyer
of New York city a few pars ago, and it
was suggested by a poor fallen creature
coming into his office for alms, all cov
ered with .snow—cold, hungry and de
spairing. As she entered, holding up her
emaciated bends, and asking for help, she
said " There is nothing pure abort me
but the' Beautiful Snow !" Seizing the
theme, he produced a poem that will
stamp his name with immortality, alone
of the most beautiful and touching pro
ductions in our language. It has been the
means of saving some, and it may strike
the shaft of remorse deep in the hearts of
others, and cause them to s.sek virtue in
stead of the glittering pleasures of vice :
Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow,
Filll4 the sky and the earth below !
Over the house tops, over the streets,
Over the heads of the people you meet
Dancing,
Flirting,
Skimming along ;
Beautiful snow! it can do no wrong,
Flying to kiss n fair lady's cheek,
Clinging to lips in a frolicsome freak,
Beautiful snow front the heaven above
Pure as an angel, gentle as love !
Oh I the snow, the beautiful snow!
How the flakes gather and laugh as they go!
Whirling about in their maddening fun,
It playa in its glee with every one.
Chasing,
Laughing,
Hurrying by
It lights on the face and it sparkle, the eye
And the dogs with a bark and a bound,
Snap at the crystals that eddy around—
The town is alive and its heart in a glow ,
To welcome the coming of beautiful snow
how wild the crowd goes swaying along.
Bailing each other with humor and song !
Bow the gay 'sledges like meteors flash by.
Bright for a moment, then lost to the eye ;
Ringing,
Sw inging,
Dancing they . go,
Oyer the crust of the beautiful snow ;
Snow so pure, when it falls from the sky,
To be trampled in mud by the crowd rushing
To be tramp'd and trsck'd by the thousands
of feet
Till it blends With the filth in the horrible
Once I was pure as the snow—but I fell
Fell like the snow flakes from heaven to hell
Fell to be tnamp'd as filth in the street,
Fell to be scoffed, to be spit on and beat ;
Pleading.
Selling my soul to whoever would buy,
Dealing in shame for a morsel of bread,
Dating the living and fearing the dead ;
Merciful God have I fallen so low?
And yet I was once like the beautiful snow
Once I was fair as the -beautiful snow ;
With an eye like a crysta I,a heart like its glow,
Flatter'd and sought for the charms of my face !
GI:41-and myself I've lost by my fall ;
ThS veriest wretch thas goes shivering by,
Will make a wide ssssibio, lest I wander too
nigh ;
For all there is on or about me know
There is nothing so pu!'eas the beautiful snow.
IZIEEEMM
How strange it should be that the beautiful
snow
Should fall on a sinner, with nowhere to go!
How strange it would be when the night
comes again,
If the MOW and ice strike my desperate brain
Fainting,
Greeting,
Dying—atone ;
Too wirked for pmyer,: too weak for my moan,
Tv be heard in the streets of the crazy town,
Gone mad in the joy of tbe snow coming down;
Ta die and to lie in my - terrible wee,
With a bed and a abroad of the beautiful snow.
—When must Tinui hang np his scythe?
When he shall be no Mower.
—Opera glas:ei are now used at fash
ionable weddings.
—A conscript beiaig told that it was
sweet to die - for his country, excused him
self on the ground that he never did like
sweet things.
—The light literature of foreign na
tions is not much relished in this coun
try ; perhaps all the iokes are fur fetched.
—" Ain't you ashomed to beg, a stout
fellow like ,you? L should think you
might work.' " Sir,'* replied the beggar,
" I asked you for aline, not for advice."
—lt is highly impOrtant, save Billings,
that when a man makes up his mind to
beltum a rascal, he shOuld examine hisself
closely,and see if he ain't better construc
ted for a phool.
—Boys should JearO a trade—it teaches
them the value of tittle, gives them a way
to make an honest ling in an extremity,
and finally makes pt in practical in pur
suit of any calling.
Drvading to dic
Sister, all—
BRE V ITI ES.
MONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAY, JAN. 5, 1870.
I,tlioceilancou.
THE ART OF RISING
A lIINT TO YOUNG LAWYERS.
" The art of rising!" exclaimed Mr.llo
ratio Luckless, " I wish I had it ; but,
alas! I do not at present see tny way clear.
Here I lie, and for the life of me I cannot
get up. Pump court is never verybright,
and we have had a succession:of mornings
which its oldest inhabitants never remem
bered.
As Dr. Johnson says, shall die ;
convinced that the weather is uncertain."
It must I fear be getting late, but I can
not tell whether my laundress has been
here vet. I hear nothing but the clank
of those disagreeable pattens, which the
washerwomen will wear, in spite of tlfe
request of the butchers to take them off
when they walk through the inn ; and i
here I lie, remote from all the world, with
nut a soul to care whether I sleep out the
whole of the day or no. I wish some one !
would make mo get up ; I wonld; go thro'
a great deal ; I wish to be thoroughly
aroused. I have been all but out of bed
several times, but have always ended by
drawing the clothes tighter around me. I
wish I had more resolution, it certainly !
is a great deficiency-in my character. 1 ;
have many good points. but I cannot get
up in the morning. I make vows in vain
in every night ; Igo to bed early every
night on purpose ; this I am able to ac
complish, but I cannot get up iu the I
morning a bit sooner.
See that window now ; see that horrid
fog looking in at me. Could any one im
agine a morning like this? Nothing can
be worse•except to-morrow morning. Yet
I have heard that a man can accustom
himself to get up at four, if he tries, and
Isere I am at half past nine. Yet, if I had
any inducement to rise, I think I might
be able. If I had anything to work at
then how willingly I world stir ; hut as it
get
" up cannot ; I hare not "the art of •
'
At this moment something with a hen
v sound was dropped through the valve
of the outer d,,ar, and fell into the pas
sage. This might not have attracted any
observation frem Mr. Luckless, hnt it. was ;
accompanied with a clink which to his
unaccustomed organ conveyed a sound
which nature has contrived to be one of
the most pleasing to the human ear. To
throw back the bed clothes, to seize his
trowsers, to put them on, to rush to the i
pas,age, was. in the language of the most
fashionable novels, " the work of a mo
ment.-
And what did Mr. Luckless see? Could
it be ? 1 f it was ma the thing itself, it
was certainly very like It had the ex
act shape of a brief. Ile turned it on its
face : it was a brief ; and thus was it en
dorsed
In t Common Pints, W. It v.±. Lamb.
Brief for the defendant. Mr. Horatio
Luckless. Two pia's. With sun. Mr.
I- rftni t helluurtl. Jenkitii and
And on a slip of Paler tliich ancom
panitd it wenr these 'w r,1.: ' 'l'h s eatzse
stands Nn. 4, on thn lint for to -day."
And where were the two ridne . in,?
he deceived in the sound of money ? No,
they were neatly wrapped up in a p'ece of
white paper• and they lay on the floor.—
How lwautifid they looked, how superior
to any other sovereigns the gold seemed :
and how much more lovely than any oth
er silver the two shillings looked. They
were, in fact, well worth a half a crown
each. and he wouldn't have parted with
them on any ar.•ount for that sum. How
charming her Majesty's prodle lo ,ked on
them as he turned them over. 'Phis was
sacred gold ; it Wile the first. he had ever
received ; it must be set apart and hand
ed down to his children as an heir-loom.
fur children he might now think of.
Jenkins Lind Snaggs ! Huw• many soft
emotions were raiseZlhy the former name.
It mi , rht not be a very musical one, but it
was E, Q oglish—Saxon to the backbone. If
the respectable firm of Jenkins & Snagg
took him he the hand his fortune was
made. MI this did he ejaculate in his
shirt and nether habiliments, when sud
denly he thought of the mysterious slip of
paper—" This cause stands No. 4 in the
list to-day."
The de - uen it did. and he had not read
a word of it. What N% as to be done ? Ile
took up the brief and read a little of it ;
next he put on a boot. Then he read
again the interesting endorsement, in
which his own name appeared so con
spicuously ; then he began to bhave. All
this took up s. time, and his anxiety
r.ith , r retarded than forwarded his opera
tions.
In less than an hour, however, lie was
dressed and ready, but be had no tweak
fa,t. Appetite, indeed, he felt but little ;
he was too much pleased, too nervous to
eat. Taking up his valued hrief in one
hand and a crust of bread. in the other.he
told his little boy, who had by this time
arrived, with a somewhat important air.
that he wile going to Common Pleas, and
thither did he bend his way with hasty
steps. lie shouldered his way through
the groups of witnesses, clerks and idlers,
gene rally found loitering about the doors
of the court, slipped on his wig and gown.
and pushed into court with a look seem
ing to say that the affairs of this world
rested pretty much on his shoulders,
lie f.rst ran to the paper of causes and
found with dismay. that the cause of Wulf
T 4. I anib was actually on ; the jury were
in truth in the act of deivering their ver
dict. Ile was just in time to hear the
foreman say. "We find fur the plaintiff,
damage. £160," and to encounter in the
well of the court the displeased face of his
client, Mr. Jenkins.
lie had no opportunity to speak with
his leader, who was in the next Cause
which was called on. He found that of
the three causes which had stood before
that of " Wolf vs. Limb," the first had
been undefemled, in the second the record
had been withdrawn, and the third was
submitted to arbitration. '
Mr. Jenkins came round to bim for his
brief, which he had scarcely been able to
mad, and on receiving it said to him with
gravity, but with some good native, "Al
low me, Mr. Luckless, as an off member
of the profession. to remind you that the
only way to get on at the bar is to learn
the'art of rising."
1 MOTHER PATER % PIIMPRIN
Long ago, in a year when pumpkins
were very cheap; and sugar cost but little,
and nearly everybody could buy flour, and
butter was not more ; than twelve cents a
pound, Thanklivingday approached.
On the outskirts of a small village there
lived at the time an old woman named
Mother Pater. In her garden was a
pumpkin vine, on which had grown quite
a number ofpumpkins ; but as the old la
dy only desired two of these vegetables,
she had picked off all the rest when they
were but little green things.
One of these pumpkins," said she, " is I
for my Thansgivin" pies. The other is a
sinking fund." . I
By this she merely wished to convey I
the idea that if one of these pumpkins
failed at the festal period, she would fall
back upon the other. Ido not know
whether she always made herself under
stood on the subject or not. At any rate
one of these pumpkins did full—failed
most decidedly, and died: so all her hopes
were centred on the other one. Her son
Isham, a fine boy of fourteen, unusually
old fer his age, tended this solitary vege
table (or fruit—whichever it was) with all
possible care, but when the day, which
was three days before thanksgiving, ar
rived. it became evident to his mind that
" that sinkin' fund punkin" would not be
ripe in time. (It may be here remarked
that Than,gsg,iving clay used to come a
good deal earlier in the year than it does
now.) When Mother Pater come out and
looked at her pumpkin, it became evident
to her mind that her son !sham was right;
there was no hope of the pumpkin ripen
int,b in three days. Mother and son look
edat each other. What was to be done ?
They were both persons of resolution and
energy, never acenstorned to giving way
to obstacles. Folding their arms as they
stood in the little garden, they busied
themselves in thought. In a few mo
ments they troth too": bcr sa cb.rne cm1,11,-
Si WI —t here was nothing to be done but
to ask the govern n- to postpone Thanks
giving day. Accordingly Mother Pater
went into the house, put on her mob cap,
her speetiu-les, her Sunday short gown,
and petticoat, and with her umbrella in
her hand, and her trusty stall in the oth
er, she sat off for the governor's house.
As she went out of her little gate, her son
put into her hand a card on which was
written the earliest. date at which, in his
opinion, the pumpkin could possibly ri
pen. The old lady put this in her pock
et, and told Isham that were she in his
I place, she would gravel the front path,
and whitewash the fence that morning.
" To be sure," said she " nobody may
eome, but although the governor will be
-lit,ve me, of course, when I tell himfabont
my pumpkin ; still to satisfy the people at
the state house, he may have to come and
see it himself."
So off went she, trudging bravely along
the road, hut as for Ishani, he only wai
ted until she was out of sight, and then,
instead of trying to Rs up the old:home
stead, he nn of to tell all the village that
Thanksgiving dav was to be put off.
When the people heard that mother Pa
ter had gone to the governor to have this
done, they mourned front the bottom of
their hearts, for they knew that she never
undertook any thing that she did not ear
ry out. And what would become of them?
Every thing progared or nearly so; in
houses the pies even made, and the tur
keys and geese already killed and hung up
to tender," and all arrangements made
to celebrate the following Thursday. If
thanksgiving day was put off, a gloom
would settle over the entire community.
So, from every hill top. bonfires blazed
and bells were rung, and horns blown,
and men mounted in hot haste and rode
hither and thither to arouse the populace,
and bring them together to consider their
impending fate. Everything was shortly
in an uproar; all business was neglected,
and the roads were erowdedtx , y the coun
try people hurrying into tow.n.
In the meantime Mother Patt-r walked
by the most direct road to the town, and
marched up the main street to tho gov
ernor'shouio. On the way she met a good
many persons whom she knew, and when
they asked her what brought her to town,
she told them right out. If possible, the
town folks were more excited about the
matter thiin the country people. They
rang their alarm belie, and fired off can
non on the green:and shut up their stores
and the circulating library closed, and
free lunch was given at all the taverns,
and the firemen got out toheir apparatus
(fur who knew what might happen ?) and
the schools were closed. Such a hubbub
as arose in that town in about an hour
von never heard.
When Mother Pater rrached the gover
nor's door, she knocked on the knocker,
and then straightening herself up, she
waited to be let in. . In a few minnt - s an
Irish girl mme to tile door, and Mother
Pater informed her that she wished to see
the governor.
'• And where's your card ?" said the s•:r
cant.
"My e.inl ?" r •plied mother Pater.
" How in the world yon should have
found out I had one, I don't know, but
here it is. What do you want with it ?"
" To take it to his honor, sure, and if
hell see yon," side' the girl ; and leaving
cue old lady in the hall, she went
up stairs with the card which Isham had
given his mother. Before she reached the
governor's study, she looked at the card,
which was one of an old pack which Ish
ham and his mother ust.sl to play cribbage
with before eight of the hearts and sit - of
the clubs got 'lost.
" Arrab !" said the girl. 'The queen
of spades, is she I' If I'd known that, I'd
taken a better look at her. 'Tisu't every
day that the queen of spades is to he seen
%catkin' about with an umbrella."
When she handed the card to the gov
ernor, he glanced at it :hid turned pale.
Being a profound man, he felt sure that
the card meant that a game was about to
be played—in' other words, treason—and
thatit would-ripen twelve days ! Hasten
ing down to meet the mysterious messen
ger, he found it was mother Pater.
When ho heard what she had to tell
him, through relieved, he was still very
much relieved, he was still very much
troubled, especially as he saw the ' ' matter
had got out, and that the street and green
in front of the•iiouse were filled by snap-
toted crowd. What to say to satisfy the '
old lady he knew not, and he asked her if
she was sure her pumpkin would not be
ripe in time.
" Pm as sure us sure can be," she re
plied, " and so is my son Isham ; but if
you are not satisfied, or if any of these r
other gentlemen are not srtistied (for the
cabinet had now come down stairs,) you
`yourselves.' perfectly welcome to come and look for
yourselves."
So the gtvt 7 rnor thought it would be
better, perhaps to go and see exactly how
the thing stood ; and he therefore called
together a committee composed of gen
tlemen from the legislattrie, a couple of
clergymen, some merchants, and a presi
dent of a hank, and they all went out to
look at mother I'nter's pumpkin.
When they reached the garden, escor
ted by Isham and his mother, they saw in
a moment the old lady's story was correct.
Even if laip in the sunniest part of the
sunniest shed in the village, it. would be
utterly impossible for that pumpkin to ri
pen by the following Thursday. Without
a word, they looked at each other, and
dismay sat upon eve 7 countenance. Then
assuring Dame pater that her case should
receive his earnest attention, the gover
nor, followed by the committee, returned
to town.
When he got home he found all the
citizens, together with all the country
people who had come to town, axionsly
awaiting his report. When he told them
what he and the committee had seen,
such a commotion arose as never before
was known in the town. For a while the
governor thought that there was danger
of a riot, and he had the militia bell rung.
As most of the disorderly persons belong
ed to the militia, and had to go to their
halls to put on their uniform when the
bell rang, comparative quiet was soon re
stored. Then to the sensible people who
remained the governor said that, as far as
he was able to judge of the matter, he
aat .2-.4 4 holp putting
off Thanksgiving day ; but if any of the=
could think of any other expedient lie
should be happy to hear it. For a time
silence reigned, and people looked at each
other with blank faces. At last a happy
thought struck a citizen and he cried out,
" Let somebody give her a pumpkin r;
.
Like a flash of electricity, this idea ran
thro' the crowd, and altogether they set
up a great shout—
Give her a pumpkin r .
Tho very lightning rods trembled, and
all the weather cocks turned round. so
tremendous was the burst of enthusiasm.
Then every man of the citizens rushed
home and got a pumpkin, and hurried
away with it to mother Pater. And every
man among the countrymen mounted his
horse or his mule, or ran as fast as he could
and got a good pumpkin from his pile and
hurried with it to mother Pater. About
sunset they began to arrive, and in an
hour Dame Pater's gardenzher front yard
her cellar, her parlor , her tchen, her bed
rooms, and her garrets w - . all filled with
shining yellow . pumpitin . In the crowd
shed mother Pater and I ham had to cat
their supper, and in that shed, although
the night was cool, they had to sleep.
The next day these two arose to look
at their pumpkins. A fine large one was
selected for the Thanksgiving pies, and
the rest Dame Pater determined to give
to the poor. So she sent out Isham on
Mr. Scott's horse and gave him the din
ner horn, and he went all over town and
country for two days and invited the poor
to come and eat pumpkin pie on Thanks
giving day. Hearing of this, a great ma
ny folks gave flour and sugar, and butter
(for, you know, they were all cheap in
those days.) and all the women set to work
and every one of mother Pater's pump
kins was baked into pies.
And on that Thanksgiving day there
was not a poor person anywhere within
twenty miles who had not as much pump
kin pie as he could tat. and even the
smallest child had a whole t one. Every
body who was rich could eat 'dinner that
day without thinking that any body else
was suffering ; and everybody who was
poor had no occasion to envy the rich.
All looked happy and gay. Joy sparkled
in every direction. I suppose the folks
could have got np a thanksgiving dinner
for the poor even if mother Pater'spump
kin had not ripened, but then, you see,
they didn't, think of it.
As Gar the governor, he was well satis
fied with the way things had turned out;
but he didn't want to put thanksgiving
day in such jeopardy again. So the next
year he made it came a good deal later,
when even• body's pumpkins would be
sure to be ripe, and it has been that way
ever since.— Hearth nod Home.
THE TWO FATHERS
BY ILO E CSSO R WILSON
There was the sonnfi of stifled robbing
throughout the whole house, the fires were
extinct on all the hearths, and by the
glimmer of neglected lights small groups
of weeping friends were sitting in remote
rooms, silent, or now and then uttering a I
few words from which all the tones of hope I
had faded away, and that struck their
hearts, at intervals, like - the very toll of
the passing bell. In one apartment thhre
was a perfect hush, and no more motion
than that on a frozen sea. Therein lay
on her death bed, but still breathing, as
sweet a child as ever folded hands before I
God,—over her countenance, white us the ,
shrouded sheet, her parents had long been
hanging, and dropping their last kisSes on
the closed unconscious eyes—he whose
skill had been in vain bestowed on the
sufferer night and day, stood at the foot of
the couch with a solemn face, overspread
with that profound pity Which melteth
not in tears—and the holy man who had
continned to read to her the words of him
who died-to save sinners, even after her
speech was gone and her resignation was
seen only in a few fast vanishing' smiles,
now bowed down his silver haiiB in in the
gloom, am: Lilt the very moment of her
sours departure to heaven remained in
the posture of reverential prayer.
The change from life to death, gradual
as it may „have been in its progress, mites
the "loving heart that beholds it with a
pang as sadden as if there had been no
previous despair. There bad been a faint
regular breath tor the parinhi to listen to
—there had been a motion otthe'bosom
for them to gaze on—a quivering of the
eyelids that, miserable though it was, to
see, showed that theirehild wasyet among
the living. But now breath or motion
there was none—her name was the name I
of a shadow—for her life had ceased to be
—she has left the world in which they
dwelt and would continueto dwell ;—the '
separation was infiuite, the loss beyond
the lower of their smitten hearts to con
ceive, and, religion itself, that had hither
to borne them up, deserted them in that
extremity, and they 'both Funk down to
gether on the floor. No foot approached
them—no hand was stretched out to suc
cor them in their swoon—for the friends
who beheld the agony stood aloft in their
awe, and left them to the care of Him
who in His most dreadful judgments is
still the God of mercy.
For an hour the parents were left atone
in that chamber—for scenes of suffering
there are, which to witness is alinost to
profane. None went near them; and the
few dear friends that were in the house
dropped away, one by one, to their own
homes. The servants w etched every lon
dergroan that echoed through the still
ness of the dark, and in whispers spoke of
the saintly character of the beloved dead.
" Too good was she," they said ; " too
bcautful to live long ;" and she who had
tended her from her birth, showed a ring
let of her hair cut offdnring her late mor
tal sleep, while many a tear fell on its gol
den glow from eyes little used to weep,
and sentiments were expressed by those
humble folk, most affecting in their puri
ty and solemnity ;—such is the influence
of sacred sorrow on the spirits of all the
children of the dust.
Hurried feet were beard descAding the
stair, and the sound died away at a dis
tance in the outer night. The old nurse
ventured into the room. and lo! with one
arm below the head of the corpse, and the
other across its breast, lay the mother in a
profound sleep ! Both faces were alike
pale, and the same angelical smile was on
both.—butito one else Iraq. r u-,,,at. /.11,1
was plain that the father had sought, in
his distraction, the less insufferable soli
trade of the woods or glens, now shone
over by the midnight moon and stars.
On he went, blind and deaf, to all out
ward things, vet unconsciously drawn, as
if by the power some of invisible spirit,
towards the solitary parish church that
stood among its multitude of burial heaps
under the gloom of an old pine grove.
Lonesome was the road he took, up a ra
vine darkened with trees, and filled with
constant thunder of waterfalls. To his
ear the place was silent as the grave. Cl -
appalled he passed along the edges of pre
cipices, and close to the brink of many
an abyss. like one walking in his sleep,
and to whom danger is not, because he has
no fear. The confused sense of some un
imaginable calamity drove him along; for
his soul in its passion could no longer
grapple with realities, and all it knew was
that there had been most dismal death.
Misery more than man could endure was
cretking rat hie heart=-but his reason was
so shaken, that it lost hold of the muse
why of all God's creatures on this wretch
ed eartq be should be the most wrerched.
and thus ordered out for ever and ever in
to the haunted wilderness.
There came a pause to his agony, and
lifting up his eyes, once more he knew the
heavens, and wept. Then the image of
his child lay before him, with its face look
ing up to all those glorious luminaries,
and he remembered that she was dead.'
His scat was a gravestone—the shadows
of the church tower lay across the moon- ,
light.burial ground—and the far off rays- 1
terious murmur of midnight was as a
sound from another world.
Then arose in the silence of that lone
some church yard, the clamor of a griof
that knew not how great it wits till, far
away from human voice and eye, it thus
poured itself forth like a torrent, sounding
along when all living things were asleep.
All the blessings that Providence had be
stowed,—so many, so pure, so high, and
so undeserved,—were now all forgotten;
or remembered in bitterness of spirit, al
most with an upbraiding ingratitude.
" What means the goodness of God, since
he has gathered all his gifts into one and
then destroyed them all by one dread de
cree ? Better, oh better far, that she had
never been born,—that smiles such as
hers had never been, since they have all
passed away—that mine eyes had never
seen her kneeling in prayer,—tha— Oh
thou great, and thou dreadful God Is
her voice indeed mute for ever ? Can it
be that our Baseline Is dead, and soon,
soon to be busied among these hideous
tombstones? He dashed himself down on
a cold stone slab, green with the mosses
of many years, and writhinglike a woun
ded worm, muttered curses on his exis
tence, supplications for pardon, wailings
for the dead, and prayer. 4 in behalf of her
over whoth, although he knew it not,
God had thrown the mantle of a profound
sleep, out of which she was to awake in
perfect resignation, even with her only
child lying a corpse in her bosom
A shadow moved over the chnreh yard
there was a sound a- of steps, and the mis
erable man felt himself in the presence of
some one whom he could not yet discern.
The feeling of that presence disarmed his
grief—i-sotnei II int: like shame tor his
weak doss blended with the recollecion of
its rueful cans. , ,—and starting to his feet,
by a sud kh den eti;)rit of self command, he
prepared himself to be seen and spoken to
by one of his ,fellow Christians. The tig
ore of an old Innis sinful close beside him,
and he at once rec• g,nized the solemn
conntenanre 14 bins who had beenlim
ing to his do ughi. ron her death_ bed. It
seemed as if tears were in those aged eyes;
pity oversnreinl all hit features. pity was
nt his locks a hie as the -now, pity trem
bled in his I: Odell hands, and pity bent
down that body more. than the weight of
three score and ten years. "My son this
is a sacred place. and (Tod' Will to the
provers of a. contrite neart send down
peace from heaven—even the Holy Ghost
the Corn furter. I hid thee to be of good
cheer,—for where Can mortal, creatures
like us so feeloh.i vanity of sorrow as iu
the - field of griaves ?"
There was a long silence, during which
the heaven.* became ; more serene, each,
large lustrous} star seeming nearer to the
earth, and OM solitary church yard to be
teceiveli into the bosom of . tho sky.. The
soul of the bereaved hither felt its immOr.:
VOLU9 XXVII, NUMBER L
ality arid the dreadful darkness tOlded.off
from the decree of the Providence. The
mystery of the dread of life grew more
84pintable : and he thought be heard
the voice of an angel singing a hymn.
Well known and dearly beloved was that
voice ! For many blessed years it had
been heard amidst the shadow and em -
shine of this earth ;.hut now it wave-ed
away far off into the blue celestial depths,
murmuring a holy, almost a joyful fbre
well.
The old man bent orer his son az...!
wept.
"0 father, for by that name from ye7,th
upwards have I loved to call thee, jom
with me in humblestsupplication to - he;:y.
en for pardon of my mad impiety.
They knelt down together—he, 1 1 -4 1
grey headed man, who bad long been fa
miliar with sorrow, and well acquainted
with grief, and he that had never before
bowed down at the bidding of a broken
heart The sighing and the sobbing were
all now from the breast of him who had
seemed unassailable to earthly troubles.
Drenched were his wrinkled cheeke with
tears, and he bowed his white hairs down
even to the flowers that smiled in the
moon light on a grassy grave.
" 0 my son !pray thou also for thy poor
old father !for know that only a few hours
before I left my home to pray by little
Emeline's bed, my own daughter—the
sole daughter of my age—was called away
from me—my Lucy lies like thy Emeline
—no more—no more'than dust l"
0 the great goodness, and the exiiteed
ing love of the human heart, that all life
longs has been under the inspiration ota
heaven born faith ! Utterly desolate was
now the house of this aged minister of
religion ; no one now to accompany him
on his evening walk—to read tlll chapter
at morn in a and evening prayer—to watch
the daily (mange that steals over the face
and the frame of him who had nearly
reached the hill foot of his pilgrimage;
and to close his eves at last when Willing
ly thay ➢hall buret booome , blind to this
weary xould !
The son now laid Limself down '
at his
father's feet, and in tenderest and most
reverential embracement, bathed them in
contrite tears. It was now his turn to ba
the comforter ; and in that awful trance,
his own affliction changed into a sadness
near akin to peace. He remembered that
God chasteneth those he loves; the image
of his wife so beautiful in her resignation,
and at that bon r cheered and strengthened
b,y dreams sent from heaven, was brought
suddeilly before him ; the promises con
tained in the Book of Life ,
. holier and
firmer far than any vows that can ever
breathe from the lips of creatures of the
clay, became embodied in those scriptural
expressions SJ charged %%lilt love divine ;
and between the place where he and his
father now stood, once more tranquil and
without. a groan, and the light of all those
glorious stars and constellations, appeared
for a moment the shadow and Cross.
The•dldeman was the first to speak, and
after that short fit of passion, his soul bad
subsided into the habitinal and holy
that broods over the declining years of
the pious. Old age too, by a gracious n,s
pensation of Providence, hecorne
iu all its affection. Intense emotion it
can contemplate with quiet sympathy in
others; hut when standing on the
lines of another world, rightly consiners
all such emotion in its own case vat; ity
vanities. 'rhe rant is as a painful or a
pleasant dream ; the future is felt
the sole reality. He had parted wit.- 'll3
daughter for a little while, and why rhould
that little while be disturbed, blends,:;; as
it was perceptibly with the dawning an
eternal day ? "We shall meet rn...
nll the sabbath day, in the house of 1'7 , 4.
One funeral sermon will suffice fo . em
both—your Eineline and my. I,ncY --few
.tears now have I to shed—you ma.-.•
many—let them flow frcely at
and evening sacrifice."
Again and -again they enibrac.:a
another, with mutual benedicticns: and
then parted, each on the way to h:a own
dwelling; the old man into the Flo - :n
the upper glen, and his son away ~.2.wr
the light bathed the yule widen:r.s to
wards the plain and the sea.
,A curious marrige custom, which is reo.
ported by an Austrian paper, as being
practiced by the inhabitants of the West
tee llochebrid , e between Bohemia and
Moravia, and is a primitive custom with
the Transylvania Ronmanians, might as
well he adoi.red by those who have daugh
ters for sale among us. On the 11th and
12th of .f lily the annual " maiden market"
was held in Ealyudza, in the aforesaid
mountains. On such occasions it is cus•
tomary for some thousands of people to
assemble there from all the surrounding
villages,in order to look at the girls "in
the market." The fathers drive their
daughters with them in their beat team,
white their complete outfit is loadedupon
carts or part, as the case may be.
riving at the market the fortunate pos
sessor of (laugh terz commences to Cry out
m a loud sod distinct voice; "I have a
daughter ready for market, who has arida
that t J l'ngags with her ?" With
whoeverstep; up to say that he . would
have her, tne bargain is first haggled
about, and finally the trade is concluded
with drinks all around. The father re
turns home alone, and his daughter and
the new husband r,rt: driven home.
—The proprietor of Buskin bone-mill
advertises that -I , ersO i tis seeding their
own bones to he ground will be attended'
to with punctuality and disp*tch."
—John Adams was eight year older
than Thomas Jefferson, who was eight
rears older than James Madsen, who was
eight years older thar James Monroe, who
was also eight years older than John
Quincy. Adams, so that each of the fonr
last mentioned persons entered on the
duties of the Presidential office in the
Same year of their age.
THE GREATEST MAN.,--The ratat
tan is he who elioses the right with in
vincible ; who resists the sorest
temptationi from within ad withont;
who beat* the heaviest burdens ebeerftilly
who is calm in storms, and Most fearless
underrienaees and frowns whose
auce on truth, on virtue, on pod, Kmoity
tinfaltering.—Vkinning.
Carious Marriage Custom.