A 6;14*, 1 Z. -
1 z . ' .
HANinaET, Proprietor.
gusintos Sado.
LITTLES do BLASESLEE„
A=istsd Cantedlore at Law. °face the Gee
eettrPledltr Q. P. Lute. ea Nate
etreetoll'aatteee, Pe. MAIM
UnalL a. L. ILLICIZZZIL,
firibisti; Tam% EL McCain.
EAFIROT * 00.
Wilma la Dry Mods, Clothing; Ladles andineses
gee nom. Also, affenta tar the great American
Tea and Coffee Company. plendosse, Pa., 5p.1,10.
CIIARLES N. STODDARD,
Dealer la Boots and nook Hata and eve. Leather and
MrKelm &teat. DI door below Ikeda'. Betel.
ade
lloattose..t an to order. and repalllnig done neatly.
.I.IBM
UMMS KNOLL,
SILIVING AND !MIR DRESSING.
*bop In the new Postale° building, where be will
he found reedy to attend an who may want anything
in ids line. Montrose, Pa. Oct. IS, ISG).
P. REYNOLDS,
AtTCTIONEER-43e11a Dry Goods, imd YeeeLanlze--also
Weds at Vendadt. All mien left at my house will
Teethe ptempt atteatkm. Met. 1. tiao--tt
0. YL HAWLEY,
DRAM la DRY GOOD% GROCERIES, CROCKERY.
Mudware, Hata, Ceps, Boota.Bbeez, Made Cloth
ing, *Wats, pHs, ce.. New 3111161 d, PI. 8, 'O.
DR. 8. W. DAYTON,
PiTTSTCLIN - i BURGEON. tenders his services to
the 'Athens of Great Bend and vicinity. Office at his
residence, opposite Barnum Dome, Grk, Bend village.
Baps. Ist.
LAW OFFICE.
CILAILBEELIN & 111cCOLLO11, Attorney* and Coun
sellors at Law. Othee In the Brick Block over the
Dank. (Montrose Aug. 4,1869.
A. CIILMI311:111.17. . - J. B. 2dceola.trat.
A. a D. R. LATHROP,
DEALERS in Dry Goods, Groceries,
mockery and ghutsware, table and pocket cutlery.
Paints, nth, dye Mara, Data. boob and Am& tole
leather. Perfumery te. Brick Block, adjoining the
Bank, Iltontroac. (duvet 11. 1869.—tf
A. Larnster, - - D. H. Lautner.
A. 0. WABIREN,
ATTORNEY A. LAW. Bounty, Rack Pay. Pension.
and Execs on Claims attended to. °floe Br
oor below Boyd's Store, Nontrosc.Ps. (An. 1. '69.
WIN. AL CROSSMON,
Attorney at Law, Immense, Saves Co. Pa., can be
found at aD reasonable business hours at the County
Conaussioners' Ocoee. Olontrose, Anz. 1, M.
W. W. WATSON,
ATTOSNST UT LAW, Wonaose, Pa. (Mee with I.
P. Pitch. Ofthitivie, Aug. 4, 1.469.
N. C. SUTTON,
Auctioneer, and 'wartime Agent,
suileitf FriendsvUle, Pa.
C. S. GILISEST,
17.. EA.
angi our
.49kAzoticrameor.
Great, Bend, Pa
AM[ ELY,
17. •. 41.3aciticasubar.
Aug. 1, llffl. Address, Brook]Tn. Pa
JOUN _GUOVJES.
PASIllelL&Bli TAILOR, Montrose. Ps. troop Diet
Cassitees Store. AP orders filled In first-case style.
vatting dose an abort entice, sad %strutted to ft.
W. W. tams,
CANDINT AND CRUEL 111ANIIPACTU88E:11.-1..at
of Nes amt. lariDam. Pa. Dug. 1. tims.
ntialgirr,
and Fancy Dry Good'. One luny.
Hardware, Storm Ws p. Otla. add ,Faidin
Dootrand Shoce.liala Cada. Flu., Buffalo Robe'.
Oroncries,Provlidona.c.:o—. Nen DlDord. Pa.
• DR. L. P. Enffings,
flu pow pa c r t .ineatll Matted M
smali g F el s e a a d d mairmle f y o rth epar
OnseLAlle c may b toa d at the ' Jacks= Bam
011ee barn teem a. la, to a. e. m.
IPrlamlastne. Pa,. Ang; 1. leo.
STISOIID & BBOZFiT,
MAD UPC I:ZUMIANCE ARENT& SC
Winks attended to promptly, on fair terms. Ocoee
*est door north of 'Montrose Hotel," west der of
roldtertrenee, Montrose. Pa. can. 1, 1&A.
Manewts erswori. - - Min= L Meows.
JOHN 8.1151r11611,
Y announces that he is caw plc
Wto cut all kinds of Garments fn in the
omble Style, warrauted to St with eleptace
of we. Shop corer the Pout Mum Nostrase. Pa.
'WM IL LIISEL,
&STORMILY AT LAW, logaime, Pa. mace oppo.
one the Tube& Home. &earth': Coert Bosse.
Ass. 1. 18M—tf , .
DI. W. W. SMITH,
DIMWIT. Zooms over Boyd .t Corwin's Ilard
into Mora. 02130: boars front 11. In. to 4p. m.
likratsose. Ant. 1804.—tf
ABEL TERRELL,
DILLtJat to Draga, Patent Medicines, Ctmodeal.
LlWldln. Paint% tollapye buffs, Varnishes. Win • •
Glam. Groceries, Glass Ware, Wall and Window Pa,
ppcv, Stoneware, .Lampe, Ransom. llarldaery
Gunk Aramanttion, Knives, Spectacles
linens, Fancy Goods, 'Jewelry, Petra nrry, dr--
being Mae ache moat numerous; extensive. and
waist& collections of Goods la Basquebsoma Co.—
tidal:Stalked t a n
11348. (Itontrose, Pa.
D. W. SEARLE,
ATTOENST AT LAW. once corer the Mare ..1 A.
Lathrop, la tAis Bela Wor.P., lioctsose, Pa. (60,62
DB. W. I. RICIBLiRDSON,
rantcl*. & SURGEON. tenders his Professional
eertieto to the citizens of KOntrolle and eitiolt7.—
Ogles
Foundryat his reeldtant, on the corner test of
BM
Bsyre
Bros. . 1. I
DB. E. L. GARDNEU,
PIiTISICULTI tad SURGEON. Montrose. Pa. Give.
:weal attention to diseases of the Mart and
Lasts sad AD Berxical Manses. Ocoee over W. B.
peace Bated* at Sessie's Howl: tan. 1. ISES..
SLIMS & NICHOLS,
DIMS ASS in Dram kedidnet, austacalp, Elm
Eats. Basta, 01.1a, - Vandsh.-Liorore. Spiccs. Fitne7
ea., Patent Medlel De s, Perfnmerrand Tales At.
tides. BrPreseriptlans cardnily annixnurded.—
Malin Avanne.abose bearie's Hotel, Montrose, Ps
A. & Sum, . Altos Mama.
Asc. 3. la& •
DD. E. L. HANDPICK,
PRIBICIMA StreasoN, arepeettelly.teaders hb
tootemploaa)serriees to the chute of Trteaderrne
, aadivhdretty. Srelr:HN-e insheothee of Dr. Lees
.limas at J. Detartve- ha g. 1,1801.
NICOL 1110W/US,
lice }Dud Saber, ethane ids thanks ter the ra .. d . Let i
it.o Ithe ambled Mee to tet the bat
hs t Meat dots to den the *bob thorr bat come
an thelbet viral tae , e
Old No load
biota mama in the shop. ihril U.l
D 13157181 7 tY 7
Alithose to ereutOr ; Wee Teeth or other dental vatic
should WI et the °Mee of the entinatben, who are pato
puede) dos!! Studs of wort to their lineal Mott notlee.
ihrthadar anent= paid to snaking tall and
wawa teeth on gold. llThrar, maw:dam plata V il an
Welton% tatit cantpadaton ; the two tatter peeteedde to
nal et —thatchenpn—a andadanees undimmed tor dental pletts.
Teeth oltyounirpersans manned, sod mode tapas is
=nod dope.
The adamant* o l,a alltdo l2B b 7 10
Mad and ninpandltd. . be mina“ to
aft work nesse all 4W =Wu. gm*
Sesos etplete a Ger am Iktreb Cces
allieston. ,
• w. mum a MOM=
Illistnee. avg te.
faro form.
The Two Cluveh Builders.
UT JOUR G. SLUE.
A famous king would build s thumb,
A temple vast and grand;
And, that the praise might be hb own,
He gave a strict command
That none should add the smallest gift
To aid the work he planned.
And when the mighty dome was done,
Within the noble flume,
Upon a tablet broad and Sir,
In letter all aflame
With burnished gold, the people read
The royal buißler's name.
Now when the king, elate with pride,
That night had sought his bed,
He dreamed he saw an angel come,
A halo round his head,
Erase the royal name, and write
Another in its stead.
What could it mean? Three times that night
That wondrous vision came;
Threelimes he saw that angel hand
Erase the royal name,
And write a woman's In ha stead
In letters all aflame.
Whose could it be ! He gave command
To a about bis throne
To seek the owner of the name
That on the tablet shone ;
And so it was the courtiers found
A widow pour and cone,
The king, enraged at what he heard,
Cried, "Bring the culprit here r'
And to the woman trembling sore,
Be said, " Tis very clear
That you have broken my command ;
Now let the truth appear r
" Your Majesty," the widow said,
" I can't deny theiruth ;
I love the Lord—my Lord and yours—
And so, in simple sooth,
I broke your Majesty's command,
I crave your royal roth
" And since I had no money, sire,
Why—l could only pray
That God would bless your Majesty;
And when along the way
The horses drew the stones--I gave
To one a wisp of hay;"
" Ab, now I see," the king exclaimed,
Self-glory was my aim ;
The woman gate for lore of God,
And not for worldly fame
"rig my command the tablet bear
The pious widow's name r
BREVMBt‘
—A young lady's letter to a friend
closed : " But I must stop for here comes
a soph, who parts his hair in the middle,
and wears a moustache that pricks dread
ful"
—A little boy in Richmond, on be,
asked by his mo th er if he would not l ife
to be an angel and have wings, replied
that he had rather be a hawk and live on
chickens.
—The Indians are not planting corn
this year. Certainly not ; that would be
to localize them, and at any moment Phil
Sheridan would swoopdown on the young
ones and women on-a butchering spree.
—An exchange says : "No one knows
the true worth of a woman till he has
loved her!' Yes, but many a poor devil
finds, after the honeymoon passed, that
the price ruled rather high.
—Rost (who has just finished carving
a turkey)—" will you have a small piece
of the dark meat, or a small piece of the
white meat r Hungry guest (who is ad
dicted to the habit of plain speaking)—
"Thank you, I'll take a large piece of
both !"
—ln the absence of any othor messen
ger, a colonel sent word to the band by
the surgeon, that some music was wanted.
"Cant blow a note," said tbe drum-major
grainy, " for we haven't had any thing to
eat yet." "No excuse at all," said the
doctor ; " blow away, plenty of wind on
an empty stomach."
•
—My deceased uncle, said a humorous
writer,
was Cie most polite man in the
world. Ile was making a voyage on the
Danube, and the boat sunk. My uncle
was just on the point of drownin. Ile got
his head above water for once, took offhis
hat, and said, "ladies and gentlemen,
will yon please excuse ?" and down he
went.
—A woman in Boston who had follow
ed three husbands to the grave, appeared
in a jewelry• store the other day with the
three plates that had adorned the coffins
of her departed partners, and desired
them to be melted over into a butter
knife. So the Boston papers say. and
they don't lie.
—A little girl at Elmira got her eve
ning prayers somewhat mixed the other
evening. She kneeled down and gave
vent to her feelings as follows:
Now I lay me down to sleep,
Yes my darling daughter,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
But don't go near the water.
—A colored doctzesa, of Like City,
Florida, asserts that, a pine knot over
which a cart wheel has run, if grated and
boiled two bours,;will cure , the worst cuie
of inflammatory rbeumathati. That lady
is eligible to a medical dip.
—Mark Twain produces one of the
most striking eases of meanness on ra
ced. He says he knows of an incorpora
ted society, which hired a man to blast a
tuck; and ha was punching powder in
witlra crowbar, when a premature expias
ion followed, sending the man and crow
bar out of sight. Both =me down all
right, and , the man went promptly to
work. But though he was gone only fif
teen minutes, the company u docked him
for lost tine , •
*he its the thinking, :arM eith
dimtiy arindizecUy, do the goveming.
MONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAT, JUNE 8, 1870;
piortibutouo.
A PEEP BEHIND THE EiCENES.
1 "Such a bargain, aunt Fanny! Lay
aside your work and express your admira
tion. Half a dozen of these pretty linen
I collars for one dollar. So nicely scolloped
and stitched; just the thing for the morn
ing, are they not ?"
"Exactly, Julia. They are a very desir
able addition to your bridal wardrobe.
But I cannot but regret that they were
not higher priced."
"Why, aunt Fanny ! you astonish me.
I had no idea that you were one of those
ladies who think nothing worth having
unless it cost an extravagant price."
"And you are much in error if you
think so now, Julia. But in looking at
your cheap collars my sympathy? is called
forth for the poor seamstress, whose weary
fingers performed the task which was to
procure her a wretched subsistence."
"Mercy, aunt Fanny ! How din you
look into things. It is enough for me
that I got the collars cheap. I shall not
trouble my head as to the maker of them.
Besides," continued the lively young lady,
as she noticed a cloud upon the brow of
auditor, "you have forgotten the sewing
machines,- They do all the work now-a
days."
"Not quite, my young friend. I have
had a peep behind the scenes. The scol
loped collars are not stitched by the ma
chines ; weary fingers, as I said before,
perform the task, for a compensation
which will hardly sustain life. You must
remember that when the collar reaches
your possession the wholesale and retail
dealer have both secured their profits, and i
still you justly regard them as cheap.
Only think then what a mere trifle must
have been paid fur the making."
"0, it is all very true, aunt Fanny ; and
I am sure rpit,3 , the poor as much as any'
one ; but as long as this evil exists I may
as well nap the benefit of it. You know
it Is an ill wind that blows nobody good."
Aunt Fanny shook her head gravely as
she replied:
"You speak lightly, Julia. May you
never have reason to know the suffering
which springs from this want of union of
the interestsof the employer and the em
ployed. But enough of this. Let us
speak of your approaching suarria e ,oe. It
is long since you have sought my quiet
room.
"Too long, aunt Fanny ; but my time
has been so much occupied. My neglect
has not been from want of affection, for
you know that I love you as well as if you
had a right to the name by which I love
to call you."
"1 know it, dear. I did not mean to
complain. And now tell me when the
wedding is to take place, and all about it."
"In two short weeks. lamto be mar
ried at my guardian's, of course. You
knowdoes not r ite approve of the
that we should wait until Henry is estab
lished in business; but I have coaxed him
into good humor. You know he might
as well submit with a good grace, for I
shall be eighteen on my weddingday, and
my little property comes into my own
hands."
"Your guardian has been a faithful
friend to yon since the death of your pa
rents, my dear Julia. I trust you will be
guided by his advice." .
"Not entirely, aunt Fanny. He would
prefer investing my money in some safe
and profitable way, for my future benefit,
but I intend to have the present good of
it. Let the future take care of itself.
Henry will be rich, I have no doubt. So
we shall begin life in a style which we in
tend to keep up. A handsome house, well
furnished, and in a pleasant part of the
city. You shake your head, but will see
that it will all end welL"
"I hope so, my child, but 4t strikes me
as imprudent. Commence in a moderate
way, live within your husband's income,
let your own property be reserved for the
hour of need.
"My guardian's exact words! But you
know 1 was always a wayward girl, and
tuna have my own way. And now my—
will you grant the earnesOrequeet of lien
ry and myself, and make your future home
with us! I shall need an adviser, and
yon shall be my second mother.""
"My dear child! your kindness brings
the tears to my eyes. But I cannot ac
cept your invitation—at least, not at pres
ent. A few days ago I received an urgent
request from an agent relative in England
to come to her and be her companion and
friend for the remainder of her life. She
is wealthy, but lonely in her riches, and
being nearly blind, is much dependent
upon the kuldnes.s of those around her.
At present thereare none but servants to
administer to her wants. She was the
sister of my own dear mother, and I feel
it my duty to go to her and do what I.can
for her comfort. I sail in the next steam
er."
"Before the wohling ! Why, aunt Fan
ny, you will not leave us so soon ?"
"51v prayers will be with you and yours,
dear Julia, but it is necessary that l has
ten my departure as much as possible.
Do not forget your old friend, and in the
midst of your happiness sometimes re
member the words of advice which she
has so often spoken."
With many tears the young maiden
bade adieu to one who, though in reality
no relative, had Ion"_, been a valued frieint
Julia .Howard brut become an orphan
in early childhood. Her father's dying
charge placed her under the care of one
who in many respects was worthy of the
trust, and had well pt:rformed the duty
which devolved upon him, but he was a
bachelor, and could not supply a. mother's
place to his orphan ward. The want of
female influence was deeply felt. There
was no one to watch over each develop
ing trait of character—to cherish the
good and gently and carefully to remove
the evil. Something of this was done at
times by aunt Fanny, who bad been an
early friend of Julia's mother ; but her
opportunities were limited, and the lovely
girl grew to womamhood a creature of
=pulse rather than fixed principles—a
luxuriant and beautiful but an unre
strained, unwedded plant-
At seventeen she became attached to
Henry Isorrence. a young man of good
family and unblemished character. Her
guardian heartily approved the come:-
ion, but as Julia stated to aunt Fanny,
preferred that the young couple sbould
wait until Henry was well established in
business, but tins prudent advice was not
followed. Henry's prospects were good—
Julia had a few thousands. Why not be
gin the world at once? So on the very
day, when by a peculiar coincidence, tip
bridegroom was twenty.one and the brid3
eighteen, they stood at the altar and
plighted those holy vows which bound
them together for weal or for woe.
All was sunshine then. The pre nt
was delightful, and the future bore he
rainbow tints. Yearsere the k
clouds of adversity gathered roundround thtm,
but alas! they di4 gather, and the bright
sunshine .faded away until scarcely ne
beam found its way to those once twill
hearts. Affection for each other still re
mained—but even this was chilled and
repressed by their earthly misfortunes. In
some few instances the, spirit may rise
triumphant over the trials of the body,
but in tar the greater portion of mankind
spirit and matter are indissduable, and
the afflictions of one must unavoidably
affect the other.
We will pass over the trait of misfor
tunes which had at length reduced the
young couple to absolute poverty and
want. Imphidence in their style of liv
ing, failure in business, long and severe
illness, were the producing cruses. Few
would have recognized in the anxious,
care-worn looking husband, and the fee
ble, dispirited wife, the exulting bride
groom and happy bride of former days.
There were others also to Mare the suf
ferings. Three lovely children had been
born to them. One had pissed to the
spirit world, the others remained to en
dure the trials of earth. Sad was the fa
ther's heart as he pied upon them, and
tears stood in the mother's eyes as she
pressed them to her bosom. The eldest,
a sweet little girl of seven years, had a dis
tinct recolle6tion of ti happier home ; and,
although with a prudence and sensibility
beyond her years, she never reverted to it,
yet her devoted affection, and her pecu
liarly quiet and somewhat melancnoly dis
position evinced her sympathy with the
trials of her parents. The boy was much
younger, and knew of naught but poverty.
Affliction should have drawn the hus
band and wife nearer together—but, on
the contrary, as we already said, misfor
tune seemed to chill and repress the love
they had borne to each other.
tuaccustomed to self-control, or to the
' denial of selfish gratifications, Julia was
ill prepared to bear the rigid system of
economy which was now necessary. She
became irritable and morose, and thought
lessly added many a drop to the bitter cup
which her husband was drinking.
"Is there no hope of your obtaining the
situation with Mr. Markham which you
mentioned some days ago ?" she suddenly
asked, as her husband rose from their fru
gal meal, one cold morning in the early
present clerk has decided to remain."
"Then we may make np our minds to
starve," was the despairing reply.
The gentle little Fanny drew nearer to
her mother, and clasped her hand fondly,
while the husband replied soothingly:
"Not so bad as that, Julia. Even my
present situation is better than nothing.
Three hundred will keep us from starv
ing."
"It were better to die, Henry, than to
lire-in this way. Life has lost all charms
fur me, and I would gladly be at test."
"But our children, Julia. Think of
them and keep up your courage a little
longer. The day may yet dawn upon us."
"Never, never. My own folly has I
brought this upon me. My guardian I
warned me against marrying one not well
t;tablished in the world, but I slighted '
his advice. Thank God, he is not here to
see how bitterly I have lived to repent my
rashness."
"And do you really regret it, Julia ?
We may regret the imprudence in our
former style of living, and we may sorrow
for the misfortunes which have come up
on us, but we need not repent of our mar
riage."
"Was not that the cause of all?" was
the bitter reply. "It is of no use to dis
guise the truth."
Deeply grieved, the husband turned to
leave the house. On the threshold a gen
tle touch detained him.
"Mamma is sick and sorry," whispered
the soft voice of Fanny, in its most plead
ing accents.
The appeal was not to be resisted, and
the father stooped to kiss her white fore
head as he replied :
"I know it, love. Do all you can to
comfort her."
The cloud had passed from his brow
and Fanny was satisfied, but it was more
difficult to quiet the self-reproach of the
mother: The day was a sad one—and
when an hour or two befufa the usual
time of his return, Henry was borne into
the house by two men, and the unhappy
little family were told that an accidental
fall on the ice had resulted in a broken
leg, the last drop seemed to have been
added to the already brimming cup.
From the night of agony which fol
lowed, Julia was a different, and, in some
respects, a better woman. Hitherto there
bad been a lingering feeling of pride
which had prevented her from coming
forward at her husband's side to struggle
against the misfortunes which had come
upon them. She hid shrunk back des
pairing and powerless. Now she was
roused into energy. Her husband, her
children would look to her for bread. It
would be long ere Henry could resume
his labors, and their slender means would
soon be exhausted. Something must be
done, and with the consciousness of what
devolved upon- her, came an earnest prayer
for strength—a looking upward which
was not her wont.
Her education had been somewhat
showy, but far from thorough, and she
felt quite inemnpetent to teach any of the
various branches to which she had at
tended. Nothing presented itself to her
mind but plain sewing, and this she was
well aware would afford them but a mis
erable pittande. Still it would be better
than nothing, and application was at once
made to a kind neighbor, and. through
her influence work was speedily obtained.
It was soon evident that this exertion
was not mingled for. The pain of the
broken hmb and the anxiety of mind
produced by his situation, brought on a
fever, and for many weeks Henry Law
rence hovered on the borders of the grave.
The grief of the wife was overwhelm.
ing as she watched over him and listened
to the wild ravings of his delirium. He
was again the lover of her youth, the hus
band of happier years. Each hasty word,
or unmerited reproach came to her ears
with fearful distinctness, rand earnestly
did she pray for at least one look of recog
nition, one word of forgiveness and love.
But the hand of the destroyer was
stayed, and feeble as an infant, the hos
t:rand and father looked once more n .11
his little family and bade them bless
that life was spared, and that reason again
resumed her throne.
Almost exhausted in body and mind,
but with a heart filled with thankfulness,
Julia redoubled her exertions for their
maintenance. Every moment of leisure
during. the day, and many weary hours of
the night were employed in finishing
those garments for which the compenss,
tion was so small that if. hardly sufficed
to supply their absolute necessities.
Often when her employers would urge
her to abate a few pennies on the usual
rice, and assure her that it . was for her
interest to work cheap, she would sigh
deeply as she remembered her own feel
ings in former days, and the truth of aunt
Fanny's words forced itself upon her mind. i
The sufferings proceeded from the want
of union of the employer and the em-'
ployed were now her own.
And where was aunt Fanny during the
lapse of years? Faithfully and unwear
iedly had she performed the duties which
she had taken upon herself. The task
was now ended. That aged relative, to
whose wants she bad so ministered, had
at length gone home. Once more Fan
uv's heart turned to her native land:
Friends of her earlier years rose before
her, and she longed to meet them again
face to face. The few necessary arrange
ments were soon made, and ere many
weeks had passed she had once more
crossed the broad ocean, and was. wel
comed with kindly greetings, by many
whom she had known so long.
One of her first inquiries was for Julia,
for it was very long since she had heard
from her. News of the failure of Mr.
Lawrence in business had reached her,
and rumors of various undefined misfor
tunes had from time to time come to her
knowledge, brit not one word of direct in
formation. The mother of Julia had been
a very . dear friend, and aunt Fanny felt a
yearning for her child.
At first it seemed difficult to trace them,
for most of their former acquaintance had
lost sight of them in the humble sphere
in which they were now moving. But
aunt Fanny was indefatigable, and the
difficulties of the task only gave vigor to
her resolution.
"Mrs. Alcott musk be able to give me
some information." she said to herself. as
house in one of the most fashionable
streets of the city. "I recollect that she
was a great friend of Julia's. I will take
the liberty of calling upon her."
"Not at home, madam," said the spruce
looking waiter who answered her ring at
the bell.
An echo of the words met her ear as
she turned from the door.
"Net at home I I thought it was the
poor only who were not at home."
The simplicity of the words caused her
to observe the speaker attentively. A lit
tle girl of seven or eight years stood gaz
ing wishfully towards the elegant man
sion. Her large dark eyes clustering
ringlets and delicate skin formed a strik
ing contrast to the miserable garments
which served as a scanty protection against
the chilling breeze. And yet there was
an effort at neatness and even gentility in
her dress, which could not escape the ob
servation of an attentive observer, and
which gave evidenee of better days gone
by. •
Irresistibly drawn toward her, aunt
Fanny paused near where she stood and
said in a kind voice:
"And why did york, think that it was
the poor only who were not at home, my
child ?"
The little one hung her head, bat an
swered modestly :
"Because I never feel at home now that
we are poor, and I know that mother nev
er feels at home, nor father either. It is
like staying in a strange place. But then
if we are all good we shall go to God's
home. Is not that a comfort ?"
As she asked this question she raised
her eyes and looked with great earnestness
in aunt Fanny's face.
Tears dimmed the eyes of the kind
hearted old lady as she replied:
• "It - is indeed, my child. But tell me
your name and where you live, for I
should like to be a friend to von."
"Oh, thank you, ma'am. And perhaps
you would-be a friend to my poor father
now ho is so sick, and my mother works
so hard. My name is Fanny Lawrence,
ma'am, and I will show you where I live
if yon will come with me."
A few brief• inquiries convinced aunt
Fanny that she had found the object of
her search, and giving her hand to her
little guide, with a• voice trembling with
emotion she bade her lead her to her
mother.
The day had been a discouraging one
for Julia even more so than usual. A lit
tle exertion had brought on Henry's fever
again, and the physician who was sum
moned to attend him had spoken in strong
terms of the absolute necessity for perfect
rest and freedom from excitement. How
was this possible when hour after hour he
must lie upon his back and see his wife
toiling beyond- her strength for their
maintenance? And then it was some
times difficult to procure work, and' Julia
absolutely trembled as she thought of the
sufferings they must undergo should this
means of support be cut off. Some kind
neighbor had advised her to apply at a
collar manufactory near by, where many
women and young girls found constant
employment. She had done so with suc
cess, and at the moment that her old
friend'entered she was gazing mournfully
upon a dozen collars which she bad taken
upon triaL They were nicely stitched by
a sewing• machine, anti she had engaged
to bind them and make three button holes
in each for the small sum of one-cent
piece. "kstaiving pritie, she murmured
to herself, and she seemed lost in a sad
reverie, from which she was aroused by
the soft voice of Fanny.
"Mamma I have brought a lady to see
you. She will be our friend."
Julia looked in surprise as Fanny
spoke,lut in an instant her wonder was
turned - into joy,. and twining her arms
around aunt Fanny's neck she sobbed like
a child.
Composure was at length restored, arid
then there wit so much to tell and to be
told, that the good lady took off her bon
net, and said she would inalieherself quite
at home, and pass the evening 'with them.
"You cannot be at horde here," said
Fanny. "because it is not pretty enough
for home."
Julia sighed as her child spoke, but
aunt Fanny answered:
"Home is wherever we find those we
love, little one. It matters little in what
place we find them. So this is my home
for the evening, and now, Julia, as your
husband needs attention, just give me
your work ainti will sew foi — You. My
thimble is in my pocket as usual. Yon
see I retain ray old habits."
"You are still the same dear aunt Fan
ny," was the reply. "Here is my work—
to bind these collars, Do you remember
our conversation the day that I purchased
those cheap collars ? Every word of it is
fresh in my mind. I was very thought
less then—but 0, aunt Fanny, I too now
have had a peep behind the scenes."
"You have, indeed, my poor child; but
now to your husband, and when he is
comfortably arranged Nile will sit together
by his bedside and have a quiet chat."
The events of years were soon talked
over, and ere aunt Fanny reek to bid them
good night, she said:
"And now, my dear young friends, I
am ready to accept your former invitation
and become an inmate of four family."
"0! aunt Fanny," exclaimed Julia,
"we have no longer a home to offer you.
This is the hardest trial of all."
. .
"Listen. my child. lam becoming in
firm, and 'shall soon need the care which
I have bestowed upon others. There are
none who seem nearer to me than your
self. My means are ample, for my gen
erous relative has added largely to my lit
tle fortune. We will look for a suitable
dwelling, and you will be to me as affec
tionate children."
Tears were her only answer, but these
were sufficient to speak the feelings of the
heart.
In after years neither party had cause
to regret this arrangement. Closer inti
macy only served to endear them still
more to one another. In the midst of her
happiness Julia forgot not the uses of af
fliction, and would often feelingly refer to
her peep behind the scenes.
Discovery of Dines.
The richest and moci ,
by accident—often by ignorant persons
who knew not, the value of their own dis
covery—and by children.
To an Indian hunter is owed the
knowledge of the chief American mines,
and to a shepherd the silver mines of Pe
ru. This latter, leading his docks to teed
on the slopes of the Andes,struck a fire to
cook his meal, when a pebble, heated by
the flame, attracted his attention by shin
ing like silver. He found the stone mas
sive and heavy, and finally carried it to
the mint at Lima, where it was tested and
proved to be good ore. As the Spanish
laws, with a view to encourage mine dis
covery make it the property of the finder,
this lucky shepherd became a millionaire.
The Sacramento gold fields were dis
covered by a Mormon laborer, who work
ed in a saw-mill.
In North Carolina, in 1799, a child
picked up a yellow stone, of which Its fa
ther, a rude settler, thought notrithg ; but
because it weighed fifteen pounds; used it
as a door fastener for his cabin,, for he
was so poor that the door had no latch.
He showed this stone to one of his visit
ors, and he opined it to be a metal of
of some sort, after which verdict the own
er used to exhibit as a curious rock speci
men. Three years afterward, on going to
the market at Lafayette, he took the
thing to a goldsmith, and asked fifteen
shillings for it, which was very willingly
paid. It was in reality a nugget worth
$675. Thus it took four years to discov
er that the yellow stones in the streams of
California %vete gold.
It is fair to state, however, that science
has occasionally predicted where the pre
cious metals have afterward been found.
Sir Roderick Murchison, for instance, af
ter a visit to the auriferous trade of the
Ural mountains, was struck by their sim
ilarity to some rock specimens from East
Australia ; and in his address to the Geo
graphical -Society 'in 1848; prophecied
that gold would be found in the latter re
gion. Led by his observations, one Smith,
engaged in the iron work at Berrima,
searched for gold and found it. He came
to the governor of Vic colony with a nug
get in his hand. " See what I have found,:
give me five hundred pounds and I will
show you the plate," said he; which the
governor declined to do. .
Magregor, a Scotch shepherd, used to
sell grains and Udggets of geld to the
goldsmiths of Sidney. and would never re
veal whence he got them.
It is not usual fir the discoverers of the
precious metals to be prudent; they con
sider themselves "luck" in this particular
line, and will leave to sell a good "find"
for the purpose of finding a better. This
is what the Spaniards call "the minors
frenzy."
'Dins the richest vein of silver in chili
was discovered by Gmbh a hunter in the
Andes. Fatigued by thee chase, he seat
ed himself an one occasion under the shel
ter of a green rock, and was struck by the
color and brightness of a projecting park
Ho chipped the stone with a knife, and
finding that he could cut it (to use his
own expression) like cheese, be took a
specimerrof it to Copiapo. It was found
to be chloride at silver. Ife agreed to
share the profits of the discOvery, with a
rich man, who engaged to work the mine,
They woe at once to-massesof 'Silver ;
but Godey , sold his 'entire r interest for
two thousand eight htindred(pAtitds, and
started to Sad morn inineol and haling
wandered about the Andes far Some time,
VOLUME . XXVII ) NUMBER 2&-
died, having met with no more tack GM'
without a penny.
Two brothers, named Bolakos, &ent
ered at Copier*, in a crevice opened by
some earthquake, an
,enormous block of
silver ore, the cutting, transport .and
ion of which was so easy, that these igria..
rant men effected it without susistam ;
and in less than two yearn realised maze
than one hundred and forty thousand
pounds. They however squandered this
enormous sum in gambling and dhaipa
tion ; and when their mine became awl&
denly exhausted„, they had not even the
wretched pittance left -on which they be
gun. 4
The history of the discoverers of theta.
mons Allison Ilanche, in Nevada, Cal., is
a more satisfactory one. Some poor Irish
men, workers in a neighboring mine,
were so fortunate as to hit upon it. They
were so unlettered as to be, not able to
write their names, but "they were excel.
lent fellows.. They fi rst bailt a chapel, to
thank God for his favors ; then they emo
ted handsome villas, and placed their
workmen in comfortable positions; and
they went by turns every week to San
Francisco to spend their ingots of gold.
They retain their simplicity, though with
an income as large as that of many prin
ces of Europe, but refused to furnish any
statement of their receipts.
The success of Gould &, Curry in their
Nevada silver mines is even more as
tounding • they were so poor that illy
were at &lit obliged to barter two•thirda
of their claim to a grocer for the necessa
ries of life, notwhithstanding which they
have realized enormous sums for then'
own portion. Including the product of
1857, the Gould & Curry Company have
fourteen millions of dollars out of their
mines,
The history of the Monte Catini Mine;
in Tuscany, is very curious. M. Porte its
origrinial owner, was half ruined by kind
sold it in 1837. Immediatelyafter s block
of massive ore was found that paid all ex
penses, and left four thousand pounds net
profit. Then for fifteen years the mine
produoca forty thonzatuip9m3ds a year,
and still continues to yield largely. M.
Porte, who had witnessed the heart-rend-.
ing spectacle of the immediate success of
others where ho had labored in vain for
years, soon died of grief His marble best
adonis the entrance of the principal gal
lery of Monte. Catlini, but his heirs are
poor.
A Sezudble Girl Who Meant Bedizen.
Twenty years ago aiming matt who had
paid attention to a bright, sweetgiri, fora
long time, without making anything that
was even a second cousin to a proposal,
was startled by the question. "Robert do
you want to marry me?" He tried to
evade the point by asking why she put
such a question to him. "Becalm if you
don't want to marry me you mild_ stop
coming Ji, ". 4 -16). L2-3
antiprt took the hint, and with a cool
good night wont home.. What should he
care for a girl so rude as that?
Good company as bees ehsewhere. He
would join the club the next day. He
triedoto sleep but could not. He didn't
quite like the turn things had taken: The
figure plagued him. HIM was then:mak
ing bird, who was the red .brest that he
was keeping from such a partner? "At
any rate, Edna is smart as she is pretty,",
he said to himself, "and she means busi
ness?' The next morning Robert went to
the counting
. room, when
_presently Joe
Mason came in and said, "itellpu what
it is, Bob, you were lucky .in keeping out
of the club. I have just paid another as-
sessment of fifty dollars, and, what is
worse I meet such expensive friends here
that is costa me more than I can earn to
keep it up." "I was just thinking of jo in.
ing the club," said Robert. "It will be
a cool - flive.bundred_a 'tear And _e_vour
pocket, and precious little an on and
no home feeling at that," said his friend.
Robert hummed a tune when left to
himself. It was a long day. - Business
had dragged, Every-body was pm cow l
pied, hurried, cross. • Things went wrong.
He was glad to go home, only it was not home. Ile took a book, but found him
self trying to read the coals in the grate
and find figures on the wall instead of the
ErHe threw himself on the lounge,
it was dreadfully dull, He stood it
for some time and then put on his hat,
and walking down to the widow Crae's
he step up to the door as usual, btitna
was cogged. It seems a Month befell)
she came down.. At last she appeared.
He rose from his seat and met her ICI the
middle of the room, and said, "Edna I
came here to night on business. lam
tired of being your mocking bird, and
want to be your red breast; will you be
my wife ?,' "When yotquy r said Edna,
her floe suffused with Mahe&
"Soon as I can make a nest, dearest,"
Robert replied. "I believe both the red
breasts join in building the netd," said
Edna' "and I want to do my part." This
was twenty years ago. To day one of the
handsome mansions in one of our largo
cities is the nest of a wedded pair,, whose
life has been sweet as a bird's song, and
whose hearts, 'like their alfections, are as
young as ever. There is a great deal more
in putting a little straightfor w ard, bus.
i fleas at the beginning of life than is gea•
entity supposed.
Gillum or ittIIPER'S BAssit—Harper's
Bazar originated in rather a curious way.
A German servant girl, who wait eloPkoled
in the family of Hr. Fletcher Harper, Jr.,
used to receive the Bazar of Berlin Born
her friends at home. The ladies of the
family, happening to see the paper, aug.
vested the feasibility of establisbilig s/ial
ilnr
periodical in this country. Who pr>.
jest was carried oat. and an terangement
was effected, as already stated, to obtain
sheets and duplicates plates from the , Be.
ear. •
—An Illinois pastor received at a dons.
tion paity eightpnino dozen of eggs. A
Maine donation party rivals that instance,
a pastor there having' received thlrty.one
bushels of potatoes, seven bushels doom,
a beef tongue, seventeen mince pies; four
pounds of cheetoi a pair of Pim peg
one pair of with:ll4llva banks of cotton
yarn, and one dollar and flightyloyer.chi