The Montrose Democrat. (Montrose, Pa.) 1849-1876, March 30, 1870, Image 1

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E. B. HAWLEY, Proprietor.
guointoo girds.
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
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.
AUCTIONBIIII--Sefis Dry Goods, and Merelmnine—aleo
attends at Vendors. All orders left at my noose will
waive prompt attention. [Oct. 1, 1869—t!
tinideraze, Hats, Cape, Doote.Shoen Reek! Made Cloth
WC Pointe, Olin, ere., Nen Milford, Pa. Sept 8,'49.
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
ORAMBERLIN & McCOLLUM, Attorneys and Conn-
Gallon at Law. Liffice In the Brick Block over the
Bank. [Montrose Ang. tfiBo.
. - J. B. McCourei.
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?.
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.
Attorney at, Law, Illocgrose, Suttee Co. Pa.. eau be
found at all reasonable business boors at the County
Communuess' °glee. (Montrose, Aug. 1. 1869.
ATTORNEY WC LAW, Montrose, Fe. Offlee with 4
F. Fitch. _Dim:arose, Aug. 1, 1869.
Auctioneer, and Insurance Agent,
sin C9t , Friendeville, P..
Great Bend, Pa
17. B.
magi 419:t
A3l 1 EL V,
Q. 13.
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,
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
An. •,
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.
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
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
&ape. afloat:penmen regniatmt. and made to grow In
The advantagent taring work done by pennamently
owed and maymmible pettier, must be vpiomt to all.
all watt warmated. Mem aM examine nod
OAR.of plate work it our office, over Boyd Co s i bard.
W. W. MOTH A 12.01,168.
Yastrow Aug. IF. 2861.-4 r
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
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.
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
q; isctibecouo.
"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
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
"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
"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
"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
"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
"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
"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
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.
"You receive your pay regularly ?"
"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
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
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
"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
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. •
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
, •
"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.