The Montrose Democrat. (Montrose, Pa.) 1849-1876, March 30, 1870, Image 1
THE MONTROSE DEMOCRAT. E. B. HAWLEY, Proprietor. guointoo girds. CIIIABILES N. lITINMDATILD, Desist In Boots and Shoes, Rats and Caps. Leather and Findings, again Street, ad door below Searie's Hotel. Work made to order, and repairing done neatly. atobtrose, Jan. I, ISM LEWIS KNOLL, SHAVING AND HAIR DRESSING. Shop In the new Poutotace building, where he will he found ready to attend all who may want anything la hie line. Montrose, Pa. Oet. 13. . P. REYNOLDS, AUCTIONBIIII--Sefis Dry Goods, and Merelmnine—aleo attends at Vendors. All orders left at my noose will waive prompt attention. [Oct. 1, 1869—t! HAWLEY DEALER In DRY GOODS, GROCERIES CROCKERY tinideraze, Hats, Cape, Doote.Shoen Reek! Made Cloth WC Pointe, Olin, ere., Nen Milford, Pa. Sept 8,'49. DR. 8. NV. DAYTON, PHYSICIAN BURGEON, tenders his services to the citivms of Great Bend and vicinity. Office et his residence, opposite Barnum House, O't, Band village. Sept. Ist, 11369. Lt LAW OFFICE ORAMBERLIN & McCOLLUM, Attorneys and Conn- Gallon at Law. Liffice In the Brick Block over the Bank. [Montrose Ang. tfiBo. . - J. B. McCourei. A. & D. IL. LATIIIIOP, DEALERS in Dry Goods, Groceries, ace-km and glassware, table and pocket cutlery. Pliitltll, oils, dye stuffs. Hate. boots and oboes, ode leather. Perfumery Ac. Brick Mock, adjoining the Bank, Montrose. [ Miguel 11, 16611.-1.1 A. LATIIIIOP, - • D. B. Ladino?. A. 0. WARREN, ATTORNEY A. LAW. , Boanty, B Pay. Pension, and Essen on Claims attended to. Otdce dr oor below Boyd's Store, blontroee.Ps. [An. 1.'69. war. A. CROSSEION, Attorney at, Law, Illocgrose, Suttee Co. Pa.. eau be found at all reasonable business boors at the County Communuess' °glee. (Montrose, Aug. 1. 1869. W. W. WATSON, ATTORNEY WC LAW, Montrose, Fe. Offlee with 4 F. Fitch. _Dim:arose, Aug. 1, 1869. M. C. SUTTON. Auctioneer, and Insurance Agent, sin C9t , Friendeville, P.. C. S. GILBERT, I:\aa.c)ltioacit.or. Great Bend, Pa 17. B. magi 419:t A3l 1 EL V, Q. 13. 41.12.4:41.3.a.a..mr. Aug. 1, 1863. Address, Brooklyn, Pa .1011% GROVES, F kaItIONATILS TA1.1013, Montrose, Pa. Shop over Cliandler`s Store. Mt orders fled to drat-rat. style. cutting done on short notice, and warranted to IL w. w. smrrn, C BIN AND CHAIR BLANUIPACTURRIM—noI Sr Main street, Montrose, Pa. lion. L. 1859. II nusurrr, DRALERIn.StapIe and Fancy Dry Goods, Crockery Hardware, [ron, Scores, Drs g., Oils, and .Psint• &Krland Shoes, Karst Caps, Fars, Banal° Robes Groceries. Provisions. c Le., Ness it Mord, Pa. DR. E. P. HEVES, Has peratanently located at Frienderlile for the pur pose of practicing medicine and surgery to all Its breaches. He any be found at the Jacksou Haase. Once boars from a a. m.. to B. p. m. Frieadssilbk Pa.. Aug. 1. 186 g. STROUD & BROWN, MEE AND LIPS INSURANCE AGENTS. AC badness attended to promptly, on MD terms. OEMs drat door nort4 of • Montrose Rotel," west side o. Public Aseno♦ Montrose, Pa- [Aug. 1, 1/169. iltcusas Srentrn, • • Cusasis L Enowy. JOIEW SAIITIVER, ItiCSPECTIPI:LLY annoluires that be Is mmi pared to eta all. kinds of Garments in the mos. holltionable Style, warranted to St with electree ad ease. Shop over the Post Onme, Montrose, Pa. UM D. LIUSIEL, ATTONNICT AT LAW, MOlatillie, Ocoee erppo. die the Tarbell iloue4 near the Court liottee. AU. L 1149.—ti DB. W. A. smrru, MOMS?. Booms over Boyd & Condo'', Bard ware Store- Omni boors from 9a. m. co 4p. cc. liestrose, Mtg. 1, 16e9.—tf ABEL TERRELL, DEALER in Drugs. Patent Medic:lnca Chemical Manors, Paints, Of*Dye nude. Vandsties, Win Glass, Grooertes, Wars Ware, Wall and Window Pa, pee, 6toneaare, Lamps, Kerosene, Machinery 01lc nsiies, Gana. Ammunition. Knives, !Spectacles Brushes. Fancy Goods, Jewelry. Peen rv, Mtas tone °Me most numerous. extensive, and valuable eollectious of Goods In Susquetwaroe Co.— Established In 18113. (Montrose, Pa. D. W. SEARLE, ATTOILNIET AT LAW. oftice over the Store of A. Lathrop. la the Brick Block. Montrose, Pa. (Aare E. L. WF.ESS & CO. Daahrre to Dry Goods, Clotting. Ladles and Nimes tine Mimes. Liao. agents for the great American ffea and Coffee Company. [Montrose. Pa.. aog. 1,11. DS W. L. RICILIRDSON, 6 SURGEON, tenders his profeselonal AKTViCeII. to the CitiZZEI Of Montroso and Ogles at his rerdrience, on the cooler east of Sayre dt Bros. Foundry. (Aug. I. MS. DR. E. L. GAUDNER, PRTNICIAN and SURGEON, Montrose. Ps. Otte. impede attention to diseases of the Heart and Leap and all Buret:ll4l.4=es. Otdos over W. B. Dams Boards at Smrie's Dotal. (dog. 1. IEO. BURNS & NICHOLS, DIU" ARS in Dings, Medicines. Chemicals. Dye. s:.cis. Paints, 011 s, Varnish. Liquors. Bplcen, Fancy at . .ea, Patent Medicines, Perfumery and Toilet he riche. oar Presalptions cuefully conmoundeeL— PaatiC A►saae, shore ecaria's Lintel. Montrose. Pa A. B. Br Imam An. •, Dit.' E. L. EIANDELICIL, riTTDICiAN i SURGEON. mpeclihrly traders big profeulonal services to the citizen of Fricadsvilis end vicinity. sarol intleoftles of Dr. Lee Beards at J. tiosford's. Avj. 1.1.80. SOLDIERS' BOUNTY, - PENSIONS. and BACH PA. e titufseiL LICENSED AGENT of the GOVT EILSDIENT. baying obtained Out &c.. win give prompt satection to all lia =nto to kis care. No dome Wass soccoodhl CEO. P. smarms. agosarom. Jane 6th. Val ][FKTISTIIY. Alt those in vxmlot Iblae Tuft or Mbar dental work wtonkl calla the Mike of the ontweribera, who see pro pared to do 'dads of work in their itneon abort mallet Particular attention paid to making faller amp or teeth on gold, ellrear or elmninum plate atl a n Weston's ma competition the two litter preferable to any of thCobeaper entwiancer now used for dental plata n en Teeth &ape. afloat:penmen regniatmt. and made to grow In tral The advantagent taring work done by pennamently owed and maymmible pettier, must be vpiomt to all. all watt warmated. Mem aM examine nod tams OAR.of plate work it our office, over Boyd Co s i bard. 1•11212 W. W. MOTH A 12.01,168. Yastrow Aug. IF. 2861.-4 r pEBBLE SPECTACLES—aIso coal il ereetarlao, saw Newly, _tor taux . eurooli. Rem VO, UM. ARIEL faro Corner. ;) 1 The pure, the bright, the beautiful That stirred our hearts in Youth, The impulse to a worldly prayer, The dreams of love and truth ; The longing after something lost, The spirits yearning cry ; The striving after better hopes— Those things can never die. The timid hand stretched forth to aid A brother in his need, • The kindly word in grief's dark hour That provts a friend indeed ; The plea for mercy softly breathed' When Justice threatens nigh; The sorrow of a contrite heart— Those things shall never die. The memory of i clasping hand, The pressure of a kiss, And all the trifles sweet and Ilan That make up love's first bliss; If with a firm, unchanging faith, And holy trust and high, Those hands have clasped, these lips have met, These things shall never die. The cruel and the bitter word That wounded as It fell, The chilling want of sympathy We feel but never tell ; The hard repulse that chills the heart, Whose hopes were bounding high, In an unfluled record kept— These things shall never die. Let nothing pass, for every hand 31ust find soma work to do; Lose not a chance to waken love, Be firm and just and true. So shall a light that cannot fade Beam on thee from on high, And angel voices say to thee, These things shall never die, Donning the Motley. DT ♦ CONTRIBUTOR TO FUN Fond fathers talk to little boys Of life and life's conditions, And ask what most of all employs Their juvenile ambitions. Some answer money, some renown My own desires were humble ; I had a wish to be a clown, To paint my face and tumble. I envied in my early day That rough but ready joker, Who drive. the world at, large away Before a reddened poker. With !melt a lot In life, said I, Could mortal ever grumble! What happiness, was all my cry. To mint my bee and tumble! But years have given me, I thiak: d little more discretion ; If there's a trade Boni which I shrink It is a clown's profession. The paths in life are manifold, dad life itself &jumble; I should not case, when growing old, To paint toy thee and ramble And yet my Own career, It seems, Has little more than clever ; I'm waking from ambition's dreams, My lover's dreams areover. My castles in the air dainty, Their wails begin to Crumble, Fate says : Be funny, writeaway, Come paint your face and tumble! Wee Waif! Down at our depot, upon the arrival of our morning train, on last Friday we observed emerging from the cars, Constable Wowed, of Bristol—taurfully holding in his arms neither band-box nor bundle, package nor plunder, but still a something cosily concealed, which awak ened our cariosity as to what treasure it con tained of which he was so cautious and chary. Stating our awakened interest to the official, he courteously solved the mystery byjcmcrving the folds of a fitded shawl, enfolded in which in life and loveliness lay, what women of sympathy and soul would say was the dearest, flintiest, darlingest dove on which eyes had ever eagerly rested. Alone and abandoned! without legal father—a recently buried mother—with no sister or brother—in the morn of existence through no sin of her own—Minnie! for by this name her unwedded mother blessed her e'reahe died— at the age of eight months only, was being con veyed to our Alms House—and there now with in its pauper walls her day 02 life is dawning. Beauteous as any bud unfolded In'the garden of greenbacks—pine as any princess whose fairy footsteps spring to the sound of silver sandals— we well know that this little one will be watched and warded over in most motherly manner by that model matron of our charitable and benev olent institution. If Minnie lives she may be the jeweled love-light of some happy home ; if she dies, straight as an arrow to its mark win she go to glory—altliough only a pauper whom nobody owns. We pen only her present—for tell not for her future—abruptly adding—such is fee ?—fropiarrown fkriaxrar. "Done Diking Rue." "Oh, he is done taking la a phrase some ' times beard even to this day, and is used when a gift is not appreciated, or a Camay, by some good fortune, is inclined, as the phrase Es to cut their acquaintasur- it had its(ongin in this wbe ' Mani Team ago Were lived a porn-but worthy family in *small hamlet somewhere is 0012121:Ce tient One night the house took fire and burn ed, with all the goods—the family only escaping with a little &idling. Great was the compas sion of the people far: and near. A place was provided for them to live in ; prorithots began to flow in from all quarters, and in greatest ablindance was rye, the staple bread mad staff of life of the poorer class in a little time the family. was never before so rich, and actually be. to put on airs, as if a degree or two bleier in the Social scale. One day there appearbe farethe house a youngster astride of a horse, with a brig of the inevitable rye. The family, spying him, sent oat Jonathan, Jr. "My fs, ther," said he on the horse, " bas heard you was burnt out, and has Sent you a bushel of rye," and tirade a motion as if to dismount. " Yon needn't get otr said Jonathan, "my father nye be's done taking rya." rein assay partataflilisols the ',Windom is ssprisented to be almost entirely WWI out tvitr &WM* tit*/ sae (haft whki ameatiges amp vomit MS IMP b* • !hhe aIISOLOCRIX OPlediteTlL MONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 30, 1870. q; isctibecouo. THE ROBBER'S HAND. "Let me see," began Mr. Worley, in re sponse to a request to tell a story, while we were seated around the stove in Hill's bar room, one blustering night last win ter. "Let me see. Twenty-two years ago I entered the store of Day & Co. as clerk, and twenty-one years ago, on the night of the first of February, I bad an adven ture which I shall never forget" We drew our benches nearer the• stove and the retired merchant, who we knew had a good story in store for as. At my side, on the oaken settee, sat a man—judg ing by his silvered hair—about five-and sixty. He was a traveler, and a stranger to our entire party, and during our con versation previous to the merchant's nar rative, had been taciturn and moody. But when Worden began his story his eyes were fixed upon his face. "I was not seventeen," continued the narrator, "when I became a clerk, and it was a great event in my life. The firm told me that I would have to sleep in the store. I felt proud of being allowed to do so ; it showed that they bad great faith in my honesty. So a lounge was brought in and placed under the counter, and there, after locking the door, I would lie and dream till daylight." "During the first part of the winter of '4B, our neighboring county (Herkimer) was infested with a gang of daring rob bers, whose depredations were both bold and alarming. The good people became excited; and well they might, for the vil lains scrupled not to take the life of any one who dared to defend his property. "Vigilance committees were formed and the gang broken up. Several of the vil lains were captured, and their cases deci ded by Judge Lynch. Those who escaped the committee went into neghboring coun ties, and ours received a few. During January several bold robberies were com mitted in Dialton, which threw our citi zens into the highest state of excitement; but all efforts—and those made were strenuous ones—to catch the robbers were unavailing. "Day & Co., during the excitement, sat back in their easy chairs laughing at the people's scare. They fancied their store secure, and when I asked to be permitted to keep a gun at my bedside, twitted me at what they termed my cowardice. It was not cowardice, boys; but I wanted to give the robbers a bold reception if they paid me a visit. I thought they would not fail to do this, for my employers held in their hands many sums of money be longing to other people; in short, they were the bankers of the village. The money was enclosed in a safe which I knew would not resist an experienced burglar. But Day & Co. thought their safe seenfe, and refused to grant my re quest. - "1 had made up my mind to arm my- ; self, let the firm call me what it wished. I lived in Montauk then, a few miles from Dialton, and one Sunday night, the last of January, when I returned from a visit home, I brought along an old sabre, which my grandfather had used against Saraton, at Sander's Creek. That Sabbath night, as I well remember, I did not retire until near midnight, for I sat up polishing the old blade. At last, when the light shin ing upon it blinded me, I put it in the • sheath and stood itsgainst the head of the lounge and went to sleep, feeling that I could overcome a dozen of the fiercest robbers that ever made woman or child tremble at the mention of their deeds. "The following morning ushered in the last month of winter, and I forgot to stow the old arm away out of sight of the firm. When Dewees, the junior partner, stepped behind the connter my preparations for defense met his gaze. "Well, John!" he said, seizing the Rev olutionary relic, "what in the world are you going to do with this ?" "lintind to defend the safe and myself against robbers," I answered, blushing. "I believe you're crazy, John," he said : "I would like to see you wield this clum sy old thing. Take it home, or sell it as trash. Day and I will have a hearty laugh at your expense." `•I do not care for your laugh, Mr. Dewees," I answered, "and as for the sabre, it shall remain here." "Do as yon please, John ; and, if you say so, I shall puraase a dozen cemetery lots in which you can enter your dead. But, boy, look at the doors; suppose a robber should pick the locks, the strong bolts would remain, and ten men could ucrer remove them." "True," I replied; "but breaking bolts is not the work of an experienced robber. He would cut a bole through the door, insert his hand and push back the bolts." "No use to talk to you, John," be said turning to rearrange some boxes on the shelves; "but if a robber should attempt to enter, I'll increase your wages." "The old weapon was replaced, and when Day entered, the firm had a hearty laugh at my fears. "When night came I built ups rousing fire, and sought my couch beneath the counter. Outside it was very cold, and the snow was falling in blinding flakes. I assure you I (et comfortable under the additional coverlets Mrs. Day had sent me that morning. Before I retired I had unsheathed the sabre, so that in case of emergency it would make no unnecessary noise. "It must have been near midnight when I awoke. The storm was still raging, and the room retained but a small degree of heat from the stove. I was about to rise to replenish the fire, for we did not want our large stock of ink to freeze, when I heard a noise as though a rat was gnaw ing for dear life. I listened, and soon discovered that the noise was at the front and double door. I rose and cautiously struck a light, and donned my pants and stockings. The lamp I turned - low, and grasping the old sabre approached the "Sure enough the nobs - Yea on the out side, and I knew a man irasentting &bole below the strong, large iron bar. The work accomplished, he could insert his band, noiselesslyremove the bar, and push the doo r open. With bated breath and wildly bastiog/wart I liststislto the us. ins; the sales was imbed Owe my had and along side of the door. Plainer and plainer grew the noise, and at last a cir cular piece of the door was pushed a little inside. Then I saw two fingers grasp and draw it out. "I waited for the insertion of the band, for I had determined to sever it with the sabre. I heard no noise outside, and sup posed the robber was alone. Not long did I wait, however, for the reappearance of the hand. It was thruSt in, and the fingers moved toward the bar. I struck with all the strength of my right arm. The robber's hand fell at my feet, and the bleeding stump was quickly withdrawn." "Then above the war of the storm, which seemed to increase at every mo ment, I heard words and a noise as of a person forcing his way through heavy drifts." "I can never use my right hand again," I heard the man groan. "Oh, God! I might have known that that strippling was fully armed. Curse my folly!" "I picked up the severed member and examined it at the light. It looked as if it belonged to a man in the meridian of life, and the little finger was encircled by a heavy gold ring, with a solitaire dia mond setting. It was a right band, and the tip of the thumb was missing. I wrapped the hand in cotton, laid it in the desk, and replenishing the fire, watched the door until, through the fatal opening, I saw limbs bending under their load of snow." "1 opened the door, but saw no tracks; it had snowed all night and covered up all traces of the robbers. When Dewees came—he always reached the store half an hour before Day—l showed him the hole and the hand. Of course he was as tonished." "By George, boy 1" he exclaimed, "your fears were not groundless. You may keep that old sabre till it rusts; and from this hour your wages stand increased." "Of course boys, I was thankful, because he had knocked under to me, and because my wages were increased. Great search was made for the robber, but he was not found and I remained in possession of the ring and the hand. Five years later I left Dialton, which had not been disturbed by robbers since that memorable night. I kept the robber's hand in spirits for near fifteen years, when neglecting it, it spoiled, and I buried it in my lot.' "But what did you do with the ring r asked the traveler, when Mr. Worden con chided. I had noticed his agitation. "Kept it. Nothing could have induced me to part with it." "Would you not return it to the owu- "Perhaps he did not come by it honest ly—he was a robber you know ?" Mrel ; tr„ltali . A 'Whet do you know about the ring and the robber ?" said Mr. Worden. "A good deal Look there:" and turn ing up his sleeve he displayed to our gaze a handless wrist. "The robber!" the ei.merehant and half a dozen of our party exclaimed. 1, for one could not keep back the word "robber!" "Yes, sir," said the stranger; "robber once, but one, thank God no longer. The loss of my right hand reformed me. Oh, never shall I forget that night—my march through the drifts to my companions in the suburbs of Dialton ; how I was com pelled, to save my life, to hold snow upon the stump. While my comrades in crime were binding up the wounded member, I swore by my God to forsake my calling. I have kept my oath," he went on, "I sought employment when the wound had healed, and, learning to use my left hand, I was successful. I have amassed wealth— wealth enough to enable me to spend my remaining days in travelling for pleasure. And now, my reformer," he smiled, "I would ask you to return my ring. Did I come by it dishonestly I would not make the request; but as there is a God, I did not. It is my mother's. Upon her death bed, one year before I fell into bad com pany, she gave it to me, and told me to wear it always. She placed it on my fin ger, and I wore it through all my burg larious operations. Give me the ring, sir, and name your price." Mr. Worden raised his hand, and we saw the ring. It was very beautiful. and must have cost not a small amount of money. The merchant slowly drew it from his finger, upon which it had glis tened for twenty years, and passed it over to its long lost owuer. The stranger drew out a roll of greenbacks. "Beep your money," said Mr. Worden ; "I have enough of them. The returning of the ring is reparation for the injury I inflicted upon yon." "I am sorry, sir, that you will not ac cept the money," returned the stranger. I value this ring above riches. Come, let us be friends. Excuse my left baud," and, laughing, the two men grasped hands in a hearty shake. "And now, gentlemen, step up to the bar and drink. Had I not abandoned the habit long ago, I would join you." We rose, approached the bar, and in a bumper dunk the health of the stranger. "'Vow, landlord," he said, "show me my room. I can enjoy sleep to-night, for once again I possess that dear old ring. Good night, gentlomen." I never learned his name. Poor Posterity, Perjury was once looked upon not only as a terrible crime in the sight of God, but an infamous one in the eight of man. Men may change their moral code, how ever, but we are not prepared to believe that the immutable God adjusts his laws or judgments to snit the changes made by mortals. This being the case, how morally guilty and hopelessly impious must the majority of our . Congressmen appear in His As radicalism, how ever, concerns itself very little about di vine decrees—and in fact believes itself sufficiently potent to overrule them as in the'case• of making the negro the oral to the white man—and looks uperattnw through simply sensual optics, doubtless their violations of the moral law ars not matters to be judged by the ordinary moral code. ....It bat been odeiall7 saftatitund tbai wing Wyatt' will be tap, ller than ever. A Roattatee of the War. A gentleman who witnessed the play of "Enoch Arden" at Deßar's Opera House, St. Louis, relates a circumstance very similar, in its details, to the.sad stor7 of the castaway sailor. The following IS the statement of his own words: "That play recalls to my mind a circumstance that happened in my own experience. A sergeant in my regiment was wounded at Chickamauge, and was reported dead. He was seen to fall in the heat of the en gagement, and our lines being pushed back, the body was not recovered until next day. When the poor fellow was found he was so mutilated by being tramped on by the cavalry that his face could not be recognized. A comrade, however, found in his breast pocket a minatnre of his wife, and sent it to her, with an account of his death. It turned out that the body was not that of Tom C—, but a sergeaneof another compa ny. Tom, desperately wounded, fell into the hands of the enemy, and was sent to Anderson villa, where the Confederate sur geon cut off one of his arms and one of his legs, and in spite of his bad fare, he recovered in due time. I never knew why they kept Tom so long in prison, except it was for the purpose of exchanging him for a sound man. "When poor Tom returned to his home in Pennsylvania, be was a mere wreck of his former self, and nobody in the village knew him. His wife had removed to Il linois with her parents more than a year previously. Without making himself known to any of his old acquaintances in the village, Tom started for Illinois to hunt for his wife. When he arrived in the neighborhood -where she was living, he learned• that she was married to an old friend of his, who had followed her from Pennsylvania. His first impulse-was to make himself known to her and claim her as his own ; but when he saw the snug cabin in which she was living, and beard how kindly she was treated by her husband, he changed his mind. 'Sup pose I go claim her,' he said to himself ; 'how can I support her? What can Ido for her, with only one arm and one leg, and a body weakened by months of suf fering at Andersonvillel No; she is happy and contented, and thinks me dead, and I will not destroy her happi ness and become a burden to her.' "Tom acted upon this resolution, and worked his way to New York, where he set up a small business as a curb-stone merchant, selling nuts, and cakes, and soda water, and getting along prosper ously. .He soon made money enough to buy him an artificial leg, and after a while he got a patent arm made; and to see k-........ W' sig g gleh a e l° l46, tat more than half a man. He was a good business man, and in the course of a year enlarged his stuck in trade and opened a regular retail grocery. He made money fast, and became a prosperous merchant, respected by all who knew him. "In his prosperity he never forgot his wife, and always cherished a hope that she would be restored to him. He was a regular subscriber to the village paper, published at the town near which his wife lived, and read it with great interest. One day he saw in this paper the announce ment of the death of the man who had married hie wife. He lost no time in starting for Illinois. He found his wife iu deep mourning for her late husband, and she bad added another infantile link to the family tircle. Tom made himself known to her, and was rejoiced to find that she still loved him as fondly as ever. It was some time before he could con vince her that he was not a ghost returned from the other world. In order to make things sure, the parson was called in, and Tom and his wife were married over again. They went to New York, whey:, they are still living, as happy a couple as you will find in Gotham. 'l'hey live in a biown stone front, and the family, a hen I saw them, were preparing to add another lit tle link to its circle. Of course they do not tell everybody about their family mat ters, but you can rely upon this story as strictly true. The ending is rather better than that of Enoch Arden, and I think Adams would do a good thing if he would depart from the version of Tennyson, and in the last act get Philip Ray ground up in his own mill—accidentally, of course— make poor Enoch step in and enjoy the wife and the fortune left behind." "What about the picture of Tom's wife, found in the pocket of the dead soldier?" "Oh, I forgot about that. Tom says when he was wounded and left upon the field, a straggler came along and Tom stopped him. Supposing he would bleed to death he gave the picture to the strag gler, with a message for his wife. The cavalry made a charge soon after, and killed the straggler, with the picture of Tom's wife in his bosom,and carried Tom off to Andersonville. That accounts for the picture being found, causing every body to believe that Tom was killed." rdErA good story is told of a certain prominent railroad gentleman of Phila delphia, who is equally renowned for his ability to make and take a joke. A rail road employee whose home is in Avon, came on Saturday night to ask for a pass to visit his family. . "Yon are in the employ of the railroad ?" inquired the gentlemen alluded to. "Yes." "You receive your pay regularly ?" "Yes." "Well, now, suppose you worked for a fanner instead of a railroad, would you expect your emplyer to bitch up his team every Saturday night and carry you homer This seemed a poser, but it wasn't. "No," was the man's- prompt reply. I would not expect that; but if the farmer had his team all bitched up, and was p ing my way, I should call ham a darned mean cuss if he wonld'nt let maxide." Mr. Employee mune out three miuutm afterwards with a pus good for twelve month& EA tads; caschistos bi schol ar the following gnottton: Mist was WAG to give light to the war "Matetwo." and Olio of um rwitglltowk after a 'herb pm* Bobby Babb% Singing-Lawn. One day as Bobby Robb said, "every body was out, only the girls," the young gentleman proposed to have a music-les son. "All right," said the girls, "we'll do it." "We'll have to hurry," said Bobby, "afore the boys come in ; cos they always spoil the music-lessons hollerin'. But we haven't got voices enough." "What do you know about that?" laughed his'slib.r Kitty. "Wh,y everything. Didn't ma say you couldn't have a consort without lots of voices? Fetch out your chin'ren." At this, Hitty the eldest, Nannette the youngest, and Julie the _middle one, all rushed for their dolls, declaring, "Yea, so they would—it would be splendid." Then, under Bobby's directions, they made a sort of a three-story bench of the nursery piano, and arranged the little la dies in proper order. "Haven't you got some paper to pin to their hands for music ?" asked Bobby, looking around with a troubled air. "They don't look like nothin' just sittin' so. Tha's right! Now stick out Mely-Ann's feet, as if she was tryin' to sing awful bard. Now pull some of their eyes open wider (0 bother wha's the matter with the little one next to Mely-Ann ? More I'd have chil'ren without wires to their eyes!) Now, all go get your musics, and rn fetch the barrel O' my gun for a thing to shake time with. Tha's right ! Now take your places, quick 1 Kitty (in an awful voice), you're laughing!" "No, I didn't upon my word I didn't," Kitty answered solemnly. "I only looked so, coz I like music-lessons." "Well, tha's right. Now look at your musics while I explain what ma told me. You see a little whirligig thing on the five lines at the beginning, kind u' with a tail ?" "Yea." • "Well, tha's the treble clef. An' -you see an 8. with a jiggy line after it ?" "0 yes!" tha's to tell you to go up ever su far. You see two funny fs stuck togeth er r "Lots of 'em," said Julie. "Well, tha's—tha'ii---oh I yes, that means you must ban' , --no, pn must hol ler—like forty. Tha 9 s all I know. It's time to commence. Don't laugh so. Now! All at onset! Don't laugh 1 Sing!" By this time, Bobby, between flying about the room fur gun-barrel and bench, and lecturing and jumping up to his post, was so out of breat that for an instant he could only stare and flourish his stick. "Don'tget so excited," said Nannette, hreaking the chorus. a..#e to no - emu. xnan-t. slu g ke teacher down to the Snoday-school con sort get 'cited? Course he did. Now, you a'n't doing nothin tsit screech. Sing `Yankee Doodle.' or 'Little drops o' water, or something ! An' if yon don't stop laughin' I won't play. Dia's right! Loud er, all of you! Now you're goin' nice." "Little drops of water Little grains of sand, Make the mighty ocean And the bounteous land. "And the lit--" "Stop," cried Bobby suddenly, "stop, whoa! Here comes the boys. Nu use try in' to have a consort now. They'll laugh awftil. Hurry an' put up the chil'ren fifearth and Home. The Sun Spots. A correspondent of the London Times writes: On Thursday, February 10th, there were not leas than eight groups of spots visible oq, the sun, some of them of enor- MOUS magnitude. Of these groups four were situated in the sun's northern hem isphere, two in his equatorial regions, and two in his southern hemispheres; and the largest single spot (in the northern hemisphere) had a tang : tirof 2 min. of arc by a mean breadth of t min., whidh, hi other words, is equivalent to a superficial area of not less than one thousand four hundred and fifty-eight millions, of square miles, or seven times the superficies of the terraqueous globe . I have not been able to catch a glimpse of the sun to day, but yesterday hie north ern hemisphere presented a most remark able linear series of six groups of spots, parallel with his equator, each group sep arated by about the average length of onagroup from the next iu order, and the whole forming a chain of apparently con nected phenomena not less than four thousand miles in length. We may well believe that we are again arriving at the anticipated maximum of solar-spot ac tivity, and we may also very probably be observing further auroral displays (as was the case very especially in 1859), seeing, that these latter phenomena are believed to be not unfrequently dependent upon the former, though this, perhaps, requires yet further corroboration. Cartons Warts In Itegard to Sound. The following anrions observations in regard to the transmission of sound have been carefully verified by an extended series of experiments: The whistle of a locomotive is heard 3,300 yards through the air; the noise of a railroad train, 2,- 800 yards ; the report of a musket and the bark of a dog, 1,800 yards ; an orches tra or the roll of a drum, 1,600 yards; the human voice reaches to a distance of 1,000 yards; the croaking of frogs, 900 verde ; the chirping of crickets, 800 yards. Distinct speaking is heard in the air from below op to a distance of 600 7ard4; from above, it is only understood to a range of 100 yards downwards. It has been ascer tained that an echo is well reflected tem the surface of smooth water only when . the voice comes from an elevation. The Rocky Howdahs. According to the observation made last summer by the exploring party under Professor J. D. Whitney, the approximate height .of the principal peaks of the Reeky Mountains are as follows: Mount:Ham; std, 14,210 feet; Graff' Peak, 14,245; Pikers Peak, 14. 218; Mount Lincoln, 14, 123; Mount Yalei 14,780 ,• long's Peelt. 14,030. It. isstated that; no point *jet beenlounitin th eßeek, -Moult; tains ai high* enteral tha Sans &- min. • VOLUME XXVII, NIIMBEILI3. One Saturday, three little • girbi Were about to put up a swing somewhetw—they didn't know exactly where." They had thirty cents to buy a rope with, and the day was before them. On Monday, their cousin was coming in from the conntrY, to spend the afternoon with them, and it would be "so grand," they said, to have the swing all ready. Just as they were a bout starting to buy the rope in came their brother Benjamin. " Poll" he ex claimed, when he had heard all about it; "how can you girls make swing ?— Leave it to me. On Monday morning, pytit up for yon in a jiffy.. 7: • u Da it now," coaxed the girls. - q.t.! " Can't," answered Ben, "I'm going to the library with Bill Saiinder&' spend your money foreomething elAe. Tilinan age rope and every thing on Monday' be fore school.". Mid" off ran Ben with his hands in his pockets " Isn't it splendid to be a boy said the littlest girl, Susie, looking after -him in great admiration. Well early on Monday morning, Ben sprang out of bed and dressed himself in a hurry, whistling with an air of greet importance as he did N. Then rushed off to get a fine long rope that be rempti bered having seen somewhere-At* might have been in the woodshed, or the garret, or in some of the barrels, in the back kitchen area. But it wasn't in any of these places, and time was flying; so be ran to the kitchen to beg Norah for a strong clothes-line that he could double for the swing. . . "Arrah ! is it a bit of me do's-line that you're after want& this time? Sorra a bit I've got for the likes of you," an swered that young lady indignantly. "Sure an' what—" But Ben, nothing' daunted, concluded he would just run out to the back-yard while she was finishing her speech, and look for something that would do for 'a swing board. Unfortunately, all the boards were so long and so- full of -nails that Ben had to hate a claw-hammer and saw befure he could do anything. There were no hammer and saw in his tool-chest fit to work With ; so he ran with all his might to borrow Bill Saunders'. Bill Saunders said ho was quite welcome to use any tool of his be could find, but for his part be had no idea where in the world that hammer and saw could be. So, Ben rummaged in Bill's tool-room, in a half whistling, half-breathless way, as if he was sure of finding them, until he and* denly thought that his father might start fur down-town before he had asked hire whether he could hang the swing from the apple-tree in the bacitlard. In this case, there was nothing to do but to rush on; outain the desired permission, and thou run back again to look for the tools. S u , B en fl e w home, but his father bad eaten breakfast and guue. "0 dear!" he exelaimed.- "But never mind, the big beam in the garret will do— nobody'll care about that." '•Ceine eat your breakfast, Ben !" called out his mother. Ben swallowed a few moutbfbils in • a prodigious hurry, lobked at the clock, saw he bad just ten minutes before school time, rushed hack to Bill Saunders', and in riunthlg for the hammer and saw, found an iron ring. "Wonder if I couldn't do something . with this?" he panted. "If I only had a mate to it and a couple of hooks, it - would be grand Hi: there is a ring id the bar : . rel in our cellar, and there wasn't any ring there. "Bother exclaimed Ben. "But that's , nothing. 1 needn't have hooks and ringss. at all. I'll just tie the rope over .the beam." , • "But you can't," said one of the girls anxionsfy ; "the big boards are close down' on it." •'Whew ! that's so," cried Ben as he scampered„pell-well out of the house. "I'll run and get an augur awl bore holes iri the beam." Soon he came back. He' hid found the' augur, but there watail'any point on it. -.-: "It's school time, Ben r Called out .his other sister. "You must go Aght off; ma says so. Is the swing ready "Not quite," called - out Ben Cheerily ; "but rve done all that I could about it." And so he had—poor fellow l The girls were sadly disappointed, but they couldn't possibly be provoked at such a dear, good, obliging brother as Ben. Hie mother, who had slily taken notice of all that was going on, felt that it would prove quite a lesson to Ben. showing him the advantage of keeping thin;Ts in order and in their right places. It s not in the least likely that it did, however.—Hearth and Home. Universal Attributes or Women. I have observed among all nations, that the women ornament themselves more than the men ; that, wherever foilnd, they are the same kind, civil, obliging, humane, tender being ; that they are ever inclined to be gay and cheerful, timorous and mod est. They do not hesitate, like men, to perform a hospitable or generous action; not haughty nor arrogant, nor' supercili ous, but full of courtesy, 'and fond 'of . So ciety, industrious, economical, ingenious; more liable in-general to -err than man, but in general, also, more virtuous, and performing more good actions than he. I never addressed 'myself in the language of decency and fricidship, to a woman, whether civilized or savage, without re ceiving a decent. friendly answer, . With man it has Often been otherwise. In wandering offer the barren plains ,Of inhospitable Ilenrnark, through hottest Sweden, frozen Lapland,' rude .ana %chur lish .I.inlarid, unprincipled Reeehliintei the wide-spread regions of. the wandering -Tartar, if hungry,,dry t cold, wet, sick, WO man has ever beeeenn- friendly to Me; arid uniformly so ; 'and to add to this - 'tittle; so worthy tho appellation of benevolent"' these,actions have been ifolliled so free and kind a mannerthat if was dry, I drink the sweet draught, and,lf bungr7, ate the coarse morsel - with a double 1• , e,. ---Ledyard's Siberian Journal.. . . or" , Why, dear me, Mr. lexaginnd• IoV, raid .11$00d old lady, a hqv ouvlon- Mat a whole - gash of that hard Cider &tile drairkht •• "I beg pardon, madam, but upon my mill it was ao hard I couldn't bits it of Almost a StVlllj.