The Montrose Democrat. (Montrose, Pa.) 1849-1876, May 17, 1871, Image 1

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    THE
'E. B. HAWLEY, Proprietor.
guointoo Curcio.
3. B. & A. 11. IcCOLLLIII.
Arronstays AT LAW Ofnee over the Berth, Montrose
Pa. Montrose, May 10, In7l. • tf
DR. D. A. LATROP,
Mas opened an office, at the foot of Chestnut street, licit
the Catholic Chunk, a - here he can be consulted at all
• Mao.
Montrose, April M
CBOSSMON & BALDWIN,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.—Office over the store of Wm
J. Mohoro, on Public Avouttc, Montrose PA.
W. . Contemns. B. L. DALDWL.I.
Eloutrove, March 1,1871. U.
.1. D. VAIL,
Moirsorernic PHTIBICIAN stro Scuorna. Has permanently
located himself In Moutrofe. Pa where he will prompt-
I) attend to all calls in his profession .vith which he may.
be favored. Office and residence west of the Court
Mouse, near Fitch .t Watson's office.
Montrose. February fi. 1871.
LAW OFFICE•
rrrcu & WATSON, Attorneys st Law, at the old office
of Bentley .t Fitch, Montrose. rn.
L. IP. firCLI. pan. ti, ".1.(
CIIARLES N. STODDARD.
Dealer In Boma and Shots. Hata and Cape. Leather and
Findlnga, Melo Street. let dnnr below Boyd'. Store.
Work made to order. and repairing, dune neatly.
Montrose, Jan. 1, 1870.
LITTLES & BLAKESLEE,
.Attorneys and Con,ellors st law. Office the one
heretitore occupied by R. D. d O. P. Little. on Main
street. Montrose. Pa.
IL AL LITTLE.. EEO. P. LITTLE. L. L. IILEEESLICE.
E. MCKENZIE. C. C. P /AMOY, W. H. MCCAIN.
McKEN'ZIE, FAILTROT & CO.
Dealers In Dry Goods, Clothing, Ladles andltisses
Ins Shoes. tlso, agents for the great American
Tea said Coffee Company. [Montrose, Ps ,ap 1:10,
LEWIS KNOLL,
SHAVING AND 'HAIR DnEssrsa.
Shop 10 the new Postortlee bnlldlnc, where he will
be (wend ready to attend ell who may want anything
to his tine. Moutrose, Pa. Oct. 18. len.
0. M. HAWLEY,
HEALER in PRY CiOODS, GROCERIES, CROCKERY.
Hardware. Hats, Caps, Roots. Shoes, Ready Made Cloth
leg, Paints, Oils, etc., New Milford, Pa. ISepL 8, %It
DR. S. W. DAYTON,
PRtIticIAN tender. hie nerriero to
thSriitiaenn of Oren fiend and vit bitty Office nt bin
residence. opposite Barnum House, (Pi Bend Tillage.
Sept I.t. tf
LAW OFFICE
CHAMBERLIN LUM. Amnrneyn, and Conn
... Bore at Law. 00.ce In the Brick Block neer the
Bank [Montrone Ang. 4.1411.
A. eu.km - nEntist. . - J. B. lick:ol4.ra.
A. & D. R. LATHROP,
DE \LERS in Dry Goods. Groceries,
crockery *nd chn..‘eare. table and rocket cutlet,.
Paints. cod.. d , c llnt,. ho. .t• and shoes. t.olr
leather Perfon,ry Se. Brick 1,1,ck. adjoining. the
Bank, Montrose. [ Augn.t :1. 1 , 419.—tr
d. LATIMOT, I..ttznor.
A. 0. WARTLEN,
ATTORNEY A . LAW. Bounty. }bleb Pay. Pension
and Exem 'n Claims attended tn. Of re 11
oor below Boyd Store. Mont rore,Pa. (Au. 1.'69
M. C. SUTTON,
Auctioneer, and Insurance Agent,
sal .9U Prlendsville, Pa.
C. S. GILBERT,
8itiat.1022.0412.1 - .
Great Bend, Pa
F. ei.
aunt uOtf
A!11 EL V,
Q. A. .A.Aa.crticrame.c.r.
Asir. I, 1667. Addrer•, Brooklyn, Pa
JOU% GROVES,
ARMONABLE T All OR, Alontro,e, Pa. Sbnp over
Chandler's Store. order, filled in drst•ratn style.
Uniting done on chart notice. and warranted to fit.
W. W. SMITH,
O LBINET AND CHAIR MAN UF ALTURERB,—Poo
a Main street, Montapae. Pa. 130 g. I. 18n9.
H. BURRITT,
DEALER In Staple and Fancy Dry Goods. Crocker)
Hardware, Iron, Stores. Dm gs, Oils.and Paints
1,14 - cas and Shoes:Ests k. Caps. Fars, Li 010 Robe.
Groceries. Provisions. New Milford, Pa.
DR. E, P. HINES,
flae permanent/y located at Prienrissi Ile for the per
e of practicing medicine and surgery In all Itr
ranches. Ile may he found at tau Jackson House.
Office beers from Ba. m., to 8 p. m.
Prim:o.o,llle, Pa., Aug, 1. Mk.
STROUD & DROWN,
Plng AES LIFE 1.7.137.1ANCE ACENTS. AI
bosh:telt, attended to promptly, on fair terms. Office
trot door north of • Aloutro...e went side o ,
PablicArenne, Idonhose, Pa. (Ang.l.llNi9.
Bn.a.mas Smotrp. enixass 1.. Ba.o.rp.
WM. D. LUSO,
ATTORNEY AT LAW, Montrose, Pa. QMea appe
tite lb. Tarbell House, near the Court Hesse.
Aug. 1. 1869.—t1
ABEL TERRELL,
DEALER in Drop, Patent Medicines, Chemical.
Liquors, Pnints, 011e,Dyc mare. Verniebes, Win u
Groceries, Glass Were, Waal and Window Pa,
per. Stone-ware, Lamps, Kerosene, Machinery Oils.
Trusses, Guns, Ammunition, Knives. Spectacles
arnebeP, Fancy Goode, Jewell", Perini ir, dc.—
Selo; tone of the most numerous, atenslve. and
valuable collections of Goods in Snaquebrinne Co.—
EstaLlialed in IE4B. [Montrose, Pa.
D. W. SEARLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW. office over the Store of A.
Lathrop, in the Brick Blank. Montrose. Pa. i 501.69
DR. W, L. RICHARDSON,
PIIYSFCJAST 7ZURGEON. tenders his rofession■
services to the citizens of Slontrove and vicinity.—
Office at his residence, on the corner cast of Sayre
Bros. Pooodry. EACIg. 1, 1669.
DR. E. L. GARDNLM,
PHTSICIAN and SURGEON, Montrose. Pa. Glees
especial attention to diseases of the Heart and
Lungs and all Surgical diseases. Office over W. B.
Dean.. Boards at Searle's Dote). [Aug. L. 1815 S.
',URNS & NICHOLS,
DI:An o.RS In Dtoos, Medicine., Chemicals, Dyn
e Ate, Paluti, Qile. Varnish, Liquors, Apices-Fancy
er: cree, Patent aledicincs, rcrfiamery and Toilet Ar
ticles, 121fTrescr:ptions carofolly comp:modal.—
Poplin Avenue, above beanie's liOtel, Elootrone, Pe
A. 11. Douse, Axon Ntoloix.
Aug. 1, 180.
•
DR. E. L. DANDRIED,
FETYSICIAN it SURGEON, respectfully tenders hi.
professional services to the citizen of Fsiendsvtlie
and vicinity. arOrtlce loam alert of Dr. [Act
hoards at .1. lionford's. Aug. 1,1869.
PISTOF. XIORRIS,
The Hayti Barber, returns his thanks for the kind pat
ronage that has cnabi:d him to get the beat rest—ha I
M 1 1 hateat time to tell the whole story, but come
and see for youtreres met tho Old Stand. Ito loud
laughing allowed in the shop. [April la, itrlli
H UNT BROTHERS,
SCRANTON, PA.
Wholesale A Retail Beale/sin
HARDWARE, IRON, STEEL,
NAILS, SPIKES, SHOVELS,
BUILDER'S HARDWARE,
YLNE RAIL, COUNTERSUNK B T RAIL SpLITEr
RAILINAD .t ALLYING SUPPLIES.
CARRIAGE APRINGA. AXLES, SKEINS ANL
BOXES. DOLTS, NUTS and' ITAsILOBIL
PLATED RSIIDs. /114LLE4BLZ
tRoNS.ZIERS.SpoKES,
FELLoEs. SEAT SPINDLER, ROWE L dt.
ANVILS, VICES, STOCKS and DIES. BELLOWS
HAMMERS. SLEDOES. F/LC/I' &e.te.
CIRCULAR AND MILLS AWS, BnaiNo , Amigo
TACKLE BLOCKS, PLASTER Ea /8
CEMENT: HAIR A GRINDSTONg9.
FRENCH WINDOW GLASS.LEATUra&MIDLIBIS
mown. Marc
FAIRBAN
.081 1
Y 'S SCALES.
h 21
Agricultural College, of Pennsylvania.
THIS INSTITUTION will reopen for the
SPRING TERM OF 24 WEEKS ,
On Friday, February 10, 1871:
For ?meal Circular, catalogue and other In
formation. Address,
THOS. IL BURROWS, President,
Agricultural College, P. 0.,
Jan. 25, 1810.—tf. Centre Co., Pa.
Noct'o Corner.
A PICTURE.
The following sweet poem is from the pen of
Shillaber—"Mm. Partington"—und is a perfect
picture of his childhood home. It is touchingly
beautiful, and our readers will thank us for
publishing it. A friend and towsmnn of Shil
laber attests to the beauty and truthfulness of
the picture, and they will thank him also for
the pleasure this gem affords them:
There's a little low hut by the river's side,
Within the sound of its rippling tide;
Its walls are grey with the mosses of years,
And Its roof all crumbled and old appears;
But fairer to me than castle's pride,
Is the little low hut by the river's side.
The little lour hut was my natal nest,
Where my childhood passed—Life's Spring
time blest;
Where the hopes of ardent youth were formed,
And the sun of promise my young heart
warmed,
Ere I threw myself on life's swift tide,
And left the dear liut by the river's side
That little low hut,'ln lowly guise,
Was soft and grand to my youthful eyes,
And fairer trees were ne'er known before
Than the apple trees by the humble door,
That my father loved for their thrifts• pride,
Which shadowed the hut by the liver's side.
That little low hut had a glad hearthstone,
That echoed of old with a pleasant tone,
And brothers and sisters, a merry crew,
Filled the hours with pleasure as on they flew;
But one by one the loved oni died,
That dwelt In the hut by the river's side.
The father revered and the children gay
The graves of the woad have called away ;
But quietly all alone there sits
By the pleasant window In rummer knits,
An angel woman, long years allied
With the little low but by the river's side
That little low hut to the lonely wife
Is the cherished stage of her active life ;
Each scene is recalled in memory's beam
As she sits by the window in pensive dream ;
And joys and woes roll back like a tide
In that littledow but by the river's side.
My mother—alone by the rivers's side,
She wai:s for the flood of the heas•unly tide,
And the voice that shall thrill her heart with
Tu meet once more with the dear onm all,
And form in a regiun beautified,
The band tha4 once met by the river's side.
That dear old hut by the rivers side,
With the warmest pulse of my heart is allied,
And a glory is over its dark wall thrown,
That statlier fabries have never known,
.4nd I shall love with a louder pride
That little low hut by the river's side.
- Mouth to Ear
speak po ill, a kindly word
„pin never leave a sting behind ;
And oh, to breath each tale we've heard
Is far beneath a noble mind,
For ott a better se'xi is sown
By choosing thus a kinder plan ;
For if but little good we know,
Lct's speak of all the good we can
Give me the heart that fain would hide,
Would fain another's faults efface,
How can it please our human pride
To prove humanity but lase I
No, let it reach a higher mode,
A noble estimate of man ,
Be earnest In the search of good,
And speak of all the but we can.
Then speak no ill, but intent be
To other's feeling as your own
If you're the first a fault to see,
Be not the first to make it known,
For life is but a passing day,
No lips can tell bow brief the stay ;
Be earnest in the search of good
And speak of all the good we may.
Who marched to battle for the right
When North and South began to BgA t
When darkness palled the land like night ?
The Soldier.
Who smok:Al away his geo4 igar
When battle grim showed many a scar,
Wheu freemen bled both near and far ?
The General,
Who gate the General house and land ?
Who shook the General by the hand
Who made him President high sad grand?
The people,
Who. asks Car charity, some bread?
The crippled soldier, he who bleed,
Who gets no bounty till he's dead?
The Soldier.
, gimitieo and at iticioms.
—An impudent youngster came very
near getting his ears boxed the other
night, at a wedding party, for wishicg the
bride "many happy returns of the day."
—"My dear," asked John, on observing
new striped hose on his only heir, "whi
have you made barber's poles or Earnest s
legs ?" "Because he's a little shaver,"
was the reply.
—Had the marriage of the Princess
Louise take place during Lent, it is stated
that in mauy London churches therowon Id
be a special penitential service at the same
hour as the nuptial ceremony,
—A fellow coming out of a tavern one
frosty morning rather overloaded, fell on
the door step. Trying to regain his foot
ing he remarked; "If it be true that the
wicked stand on slippery ground, I must
belong to the other rings, for it's more
than I can do."
—Rev. Dr. Sraders, Woof Norristown,
N. J., has made a magnificent contribu
tion of property; worth over one hundred
thousand dollars, for the purpose of
hospital in Philadelphia, under the charge
of tte rosbyterian G`burph.
—A 'testimonial to the shill of a chirop
odist, publish in aoguslisli paper, testifi
ed that "four or five years ago be suoces
fully extracted several corns from my
feet, without pain, as also a member of
my family, which, have not returned since
that time. "
—Bewl is to be - $3 a day at Baratogo
this samtacr.
MONTROSE .1-.. E-MO-CRAM
`,:f„,„ tw 2II9NTXOSEi I'AtXEDNESDAY--IviA Yl7, 1871.
a•. P''.
TIRE WRONG PICIIJIIE
" A pretty face—a pretty face indeed!"
I turned the little photograph upside
down, held it off at arm's length to get a
perspective view, and scrutinized it close
ly with my eye-glasses.
Henry Wallis looked pleased ; a man
naturally likes to have his "fiancee" duly
admired and. appreciated.
"So this is the Bessie Armitage I have
heard so much of; really, Wallis, she does
credit to your taste. A blonde, I sup
pose :"
" Fair as a lily leaf, with blue eyes and
the sunniest golden hair?"
Ah ! well, I must say I prefer the bru
nette style, su far as my individual taste
goes, but then, fancies differ, you know."
It was'all very well for Henry Wallis to
go into ectaeies about the palid, fair-hair
ed Bessie Armitage ; he had never seen
the glance of Cecilia Vernon's magnificent
dark eyps. What did he know abort the
true type of feminine beauty?
"As you say, fancies differ." Wallis re
turned, lightly. "But I wish you would
select a handsome frame fur it when you
go t o town next—blue velvet with a gold
rim on the margin, or sonic such tasteful
arrangement."
" see to it," I said, depositing the
picture in its envelope, and returning it
to Inv inside breast pocket.
be very careful of it ?"
" Careful ? Of course I shall."
I smiled a little at Wallis' solicitude and
we parted.
After all glenry Wallis was better off
than I was, fur he was securely engaged
to the dimpled, yellow-tressed little object
of his affections; while I was yet, as it
were, in outer darkness, uncertain wheth
er my peerless Cecilia returned toy ardent
otion, or whether she secretly inclined
toward that unprincipled fellow, Fitzhugh
Trefoil. A score of times I had resolved
to settle the question ; a score of times I
had gone to the Vernuns with the very
formula of declaration on my lips, and as
often had the words died away unvoiced
and unspoken.
If fate had only kf . ified me with one
thousandth part of litAhugh Trefoil's off
hand audacity •! I don't think anything
short of tho beluga' could check that
cool self-possession ; an earthquake
wouldn't and 1 don't think that thu nul
lent urn could!
Howe‘er, love inspires the feeblest
heart with a sort of fictitious courage,
and I was a new man since Miss Vernon
had sm;1(11 upon inc. What was the use
of d•mbting, hesitating, and trembling?
Why nut decide wy fate atone,: ? Henry
Wallis' serene content exercised u stimu
lating influence upon I would fain
have been even as lie was:
There is no sense in procrastinating
matters any further," I said, half aloud,
as I walked up and down the rather limit
ed domains of my little hue office. "I
have been u doubting f ,01 quite long
enough: .
I'm afraid I wasn't a very amiable mem
ber of the domestic circle that afternoon.
" I think Paul is growing crosser every
day," said my sister. shrugmg her little
plump shoulders. " . ...qatunia,l wish you'd
speak to him."
But my mother, bless her wise old soul,
knew better than that. lihf. only looked
at me over the rims of her spectacles, and
went on darningstockings.
"Paul is worried with business matters,
I suppose." She said, apologetically.
"Paul will do well enough, it you only let
him alone."
I went up to my room after dinner,
and made an elaborate toilet; but ail the
pains I bestowed upon it served only to
heighten the general effect of awkward;
nee&
" I've two minds to wait until to-mor
row,'l quath I to m`• self, abrutly stopping,
with my cravat half tied.
No, I might be a coward, but I was not
such an unmitigated poltroon as that. I
had begun the enterprise, and I would
carry it throne, if it cost me the last
drop of my heart's blood. Moreover, I
had had an inspiration. Au entirely orig
inal method of putting the momentous
qnery--"poppiug, the question" is a vulgar
ism that I, for one, could never tolerate—
had occurred to me.
'Hang Fitzhugh TreToil 1" I exclaimed
gleefully, half alound, though there was
no ear to hear my ejaculation. "11l win
the dark-eyed treasure yet, in spite of
Lim !"
I opened my writing-case, and careful
ly took out a II ttlo carte de visile wrapped
in tissue paper, and tenderly laid uway
with a pink silk perfume stionel that 3fin
nee had made for me once. It was Cecilia's
picture; the had allowed me to steal it
away from her, with scarcely a remon
strance, a week before. Then was the
time I ought to have proposed ; but, like
a timorous, doubting moon-calf as I was,
I, had let the golden tide of opportunity
slip unimproved away . from me.
I drew Bessie Armitage's vacant doll
like face from its envelope, and compar
ed the two with a thrill of triumph in
my heart.
" Colorless water, beside crimson, spark
ling champagnel a pale violet in the sha
dow of a royal rose! pearls eolipsed by
the fiery flash of diamond!" I exclaimed,
"Henry Wallis' taste may be very correct
and classical, but give me my radiant
brunette! These bleached -oat beauties
don't correspond with Illy ideal of perfac
tion."
It was a lovely spring evening as I en
tered the wide graveled path that led up
to the broad porch of the old-fashioned
Vernon mansion. 'Squire Vernon sat
there smoking his meerschaum.
"Won't you sit down and have a
smoke he demanded, hospitably, "It's
a real luxury to be able to take a whiff
out of doors, after being shut up in the
house all the winter. Or may be you'd
prefer doing in to see Cecil ?"
Sensible old gentleman ! he had not for
gotten his own young da. I intimated,
not without considerabl e awkwardness,
that the special object of my visit had
been to "sep Cecil,"
" Well, she is in the parlor, all by her
self," said the 'scioire, good II omoredly,
motioning me in. "Wilk in—walk ip."
C e cilia Vernon was sitting in the parlor
Alone, aF her father had said, the bright
4,tliotellancouo.
center of ts ,- cheerfal circle of lamplight.
A bit of crotchet work was lying in her
lap, and an open volume of poems—poems
I had sent her—was on the table.
Cecilia Vernon was always fair to look
upon, in my sight; to-night, however,
she seemed more than ordinarily beauti
ful.
I sat down, and begun hesitatingly up
on the never failing topic of the weather.
A proposal had seemed the easiest thing
in the world as I walked along the dewy
edges of the peaceful starlight-road, con
templating it from afar off; but now that
I was face to face with it, Alps upon Alps
of difficulty and perplexity seemed to
surround its accomplishment. I would
have given all that I was worth to post
pone the evil day but twenty-four hours—
all but my self-respect, and that was im
perilled now.
Cecilia tried her best to keep the ball of
conversation in motion ; she introduced
new subjects, asked leading questions,
and feigned deep interest in the most
abstruse of topics. But even Cecilia
could not talk on forever, and presently,
with a little sight of despair, she subsided
into silence.
Now was the eventful moment of my
destiny.
"Cecilia!" I said softly.
She raised the liquid brown eves to
mine.
" I want to confide in you to-night
have I your permission to speak ?"
" Certainly Mr. Markham."
"I am very much in love, Cecilia; in
fact, my heart has long ago gone out of
my own possession into that of—"
I stopped with the fatal husky feeling
in my throat. Cecilia was blushing
divinely. I drew my chair close to hers,
with the sensation of a man who has just
Nulled the string of a cold shower bath.
" Who is the lady?" faltered Cecilia—
as if she didn't know perfectly well al
read y.
Shell I show you her picture, Cecil
is?"
Miss Vernon inclined her head almost
to the level of my shoulder, to look at
the little carte-de-rieil I drew from my
pocket. I skillfully stole one arm round
her waist.
"See dearest !"
" But, to my horror and dismay, she
snatched her hand from my clasp, sprang
up, and started away, like some fair aveng
ing goddess!
How dare you insult me thus, Mr.
Markham''
'• Cecilia! how—what—"
" Don't presume to call me Cecilia sir!"
sobbed the indignaut bursting into
tears, and sweeping from the room.
I sat like une palsied. What had I
done ? Why was the gracious mood of
my enchantress thus suddenly transform
ed' to gall and bitterness? Sure'y she
would preseD tty retnrw- mod apologize for
her capricious exit ? But she did not re
turn ; and after waiting lone in vain, I
.
sneaked out of aside duor.and - creptdeject
edly home, my heart burning with pon
der and resentment. I had no mind to
meet the assembled family group; so I
admitted myself with the latch key, and
stole noiselessly up stairs, where my lamp
I had lighted with such high and bound
ing hopes!
I threw off my coat viciously ; as I did
so the forgotten oale-de-risile dropped
from my pocket. 1 stooped to pick it up.
It was the portrait of Bessie Armitage!
And there on the mantel, where in my
haedless haste I left it, was the divine
countenance of my queen, Cecilia!
I had shown her the wrong photograph.
All was clear now! Her indignation
and resentment—the whole tangle web of
mystery was unraveled now; I caught up
my hat to rush back to her,-but at that
moment the clock struck eleven.
It was too lute now. All apology and
explanation must be left until the morrow.
And with a discontented spirit I sought
my couch.
Early next morning I walked ever to
the old Vernon Mansion ; but expeditious
as I was, Trefoil had been there before
me. I met him coming whistling down
the walk as self possessed as ever.
"Congratulate me, my dear fellow-1 I
am the happiest man in the world. Ce
cilia Vernon has just promised to be my
wife!"
I started blankly at him, and with one
or two unintelligible murmurs, turned
short round and walked home again. My
rival had improved the propitious op
portunity, and caught Cecilia's heart in
rebound!
Well—so goes the world, and I am a
bachelor vet. There is but one Cecilia,
and she, alas ! is married to Fitzhugh
Trefoi I.
Mount..—When you go courting, be certain
tehme picture you arc carrying next to your
heart.
" Spoiling ti Child."
That domestic atrocity known as
"spoiling a child," is generally looked up
on as a consequence of excessive maternal
love; but if a mother hated her little one
she could scarcely do anything worse. A
spoiled child is one of the most unhappy
of living creatures, and generally sickly;
for, besides the physical evils which the
indulgence of its undisciplined appetites
engenders, its temper preys upon its
health. To pumper the little folks in all
their whims and caprices is a parental
sin, and one which is always visited upon
the unfortunate ones who have been thus
irrationally petted. One of the immediate
penalties of the offense is the dislike with
which spoiled children are universally
regarded. But there are worse conse
quences than this. The youne tyrant is
too often developed into the overbearing
youth, and the overbearing youth into
the unjust and hateful man. Gentleness,
kindness, and reasonable patience are ab
solutely essential to the proper manage
ment of children. When severeity is nc.
cessary, it is usually because some error of
the past has been unwisely overlooked,
or perhaps winked at. In cases- of this
kind every blow that falls upon the ju
venile offender ought, in strict propriety,
to be indicted on the individual who 144-
ed to apply , the mild remedy of remon
strance and persuasion iu due season.
Above all things, treat the little ones
justly, for their sense'of injustice is keen
arid flitter.
New name for tight bootr,-4 corn crib.
Beavers.
A BOY'S CO3IrOSITION
My brother has got a beaver. His
name is Frank. When he told me he
was going to have a beaver I was awfi4
glad . , for my geography says beavers gnaw
down trees and dam rivers. I didn't care
fur the dam, for that is wicked; but I
thought it would be bully fan to make
him gnaw down trees in the orchard.
He said I could see it Sunday, so I got
up early. When he brought out the cage,
which looked like a band-box, Igot up in
a chair to see him let out, and it was
nothing but a stove-pipe bat. I was mad
and said I should go to meeting with him,
and I did.
We went down Broad street, because
Frank—that's my brother—said we were
late, but it was tolled. We saw three
beafers ahead of us, and the big boys
that were under them said they were late
too, and came that way because they did
not like to walk fast on the main street.
But we were really early, and the heavers
all kept together in the entry, and laugh
ed and were red in the face. They all
agreed to go into church together, be
cause they were not used to it; and some
carried beavers right before thew, like a
contribution box, and Frank carried his
upside down—anyway he put it down so,
and father nudged him, and he turned it
over. After he got home Frank said it
was right to put the top down, and that
the top was where the little holes to
ventilate it were, or the part that the
head goes into, I don't know which now.
Fanny—that's my sister—said it was all
down, and told me to feel of it ; and I
did, and said it was felt, and they all
laughed.
The wind blew Frank's but off when
meeting was out. lie did not run for it,
because the papers tell you not to, for
some one will du it for you. Ile told me
to. I did not run very fast at first, for
the meeting folks were all looking. But
I put in. And so did the hat. I got
ahead of it and waited till it came up,
and thee put my foot down—and missed
it. Mary Lizzie stopped it. Mary Lizzie
is Frank's girl—anyway he goes with her.
I told her it was Frank's, and she picked
it up and brush it. Frank was at the
corner waiting for it, and he could not
take his hat off to her, for she had it in
her hand. Ile shook his fist at me, and
I bet I won't run for his hat again, and
~ r et my shoes all dust, and be out of
breath.
I wish that I was big so that I could
wear one, and I bet I would practice with
Frank's so as to get used to the height of
it, and not smash it when I go down cel
lar, the way Frank did ; and would tell
every one to put their hand up on the
wall, just as high as they think the hat
is, and then put the hat down it won't
be half as high.
I think old beavers aro the best, for
you can put a big rock inside them and
put them on the sidewalk, and look
through a knot-hole in the fence, and see
every one that comes along kick them.
I tell you it is fun to see them squirm
and hold on to their toes.
First Prayer in Congress.
In Thatcher's Military Journal, under
date of December, 1777, is found a note
containing the identical " first prayer in
Congress," made by Rev. Jacob Duche, a
gentleman of great eloquence. Here it is
a historical curiosity:
" 0 Lord, our heavenly father, high and
rightly King of kings, and Lord of lords
who dust from Thy throne behold all the
dwellers on earth, and reignest with pow
er supreme and uncontrolled over all
kingdoms, empires and governments, look
down in mercy, we beseech Thee, on:these
American States, who have fled to Thee
from the rod of the oppressor, and thrown
themselves on Thy gracious protection,
desiring henceforth to be dependent only
on Thee; to Thee they have appealed for
the righteousness of their cause; to Thee
do they now look up for that countenance
and support, which Thou alone canst
give; take them, therefore Heavenly
'ather,.under Thy nurturing care; give
them wisdom in council and valor in the
field ; defeat the malicious designs of our
cruel adversaries; convinee them of the
unrighteousness of their cause; and it
they still persist in their sanguinary pur
pose, 0 let the voice of Thy own Unerring
justice, sounding in their hearts, constrain
them to drop the weapons of war from
their unnerved hands in the day of battle!
Be thou present, 0 God of wisdom! and
direct the councils of this honorable as-
sembly ; enable tnem to settle things on
the best and surest foundation, that the
scene of blood may be speedily olosed,
that order, harmony and peace may bto ef
fectually restored; and truth and justice,
religion and piety prevail and flourish
among Thy people. Preserve the health !
of their bodies and the vigor of their
minds; shower down on Mem and the
millions they here represent such tempor
al blessings as Thou seest expedient ' for
them in'this world, and crown them with
everlasting glory in the world to come.
All this we ask in the name and through
the merits of Jesus Christ, Thy Son, our
•
Savior. Amen."
SMART BOY.—Janesville Wisconsin, is
noted for its smart boys. The latest story
is told of a youth of six summers who
was taken to task by his aunt for some
supposed offence, which he persistently
denied,—"Now, Johnnie," said she. "I
know you are not telling me the truth : I
see it in your eye." Pulling down the
lower lid of the organ which had well
nigh betrayed her veracity, Johnny exult
ingly replied : " Yon can't tell anything
about it aunt that eye always was a little
streaked."
—A young couple had been married by
a Quaker, and after the ceremony, be re
marked to the husband t
" Friend, thou art now at tbo end of thy
tronble&"
"A few weeks after, the young man
came to the good minister, boiling over
with rage, (his wife was a regular vixen.)
"I thought you told me that I was at
the end of my troubles?"
"So I did, friend, but I did not say
which nit"
- VOIATME XXVIII, NUMBER 20.
b"}►gnith Women:
It is the smallness of income and the
necessity of looking sharply to the means
of life that makes the young people of
adrid so prudent in their love affairs. I
know of no place where ugly heiresses are
such belles, and where young men with
handsome incomes are so universally es
teemed by all who know them. The stars
on the sleeves of young officers are more
regarded than their dancing, and the red
belt of a field officer is as winning in the
eyes of beauty as a cestns of Venue. A
subaltern offered his heart and hand to a
black-eyed girl of Castile. She said kind
ly but firmly that the night was too
Cloudy. "What !" said the stupefied lov
er, " the sky is full of ttars."
"I see but one," said the prudent
beauty, her fine eyes resting pensively upon
his cuff, where one lone luminary indica
ted his rank.
The spirit is really one of forethought,
and not avarice. People who have enough
for two almost always marry from inclina
' tion ' and frequently take partners for life
withont a penny.
If men were never henpecked except
by learned wives, Spain would be the
place of all others for timid men to marry
The.girls are bright, vivacious, and
naturally very clever, but they have
scarcely any education whatever. They
never know the difference between 1,. and
v. They throw themselves in orthogra
phy entirely upon benevolence. They
know a little music and a little French,
but they have never croosed, even in a
school-day excursion, the border line of
the ologies, They do not even read nov
els. They are regarded as injurious, and
cannot be trusted to the daughters uutil
mamma has read them. Mamma never
has time to read them, and so they are
condemned by default. Fenian Caballero,
in one of her sleepy romances, refers to
this illiterate character of the Spanish
ladies, and sacs it is their chief charm—
that a Christian woman iu good society,
ought not to know anything beyond her
cookery book and her missal. There is
au old proverb which coarsely conveys
this idea: "A mule that whinnies and a
woman that talks Latin never conies to
any good." There is contented acquies
ence in this moral servitude among the
fair Spaniards which would madden oar
agitatresses.
It must be innocence which springs
from ignorance that induces an occasion
al coarseness of expression which surpris
es you in the conversation of those lovely
young girls. They will speak with per
fect ft eedem of the etas-civil of a young
mother. A maiden of fifteen said to me:
"I must go to a party this evening decol-
Oleo, and I hate it. Bening* is getting
old enough to marry, and he wants to see
all the girs iu low neck before be makes
makes up his mind." They all swear like
troopers, without a thought of profanity.
Their mildest expression of surprise is
Atil3 Maria! They change their oaths
with the season. At the feast of the Im
maculate Conception, the favorite oath is
Maria Purissima. This is the time of
special interest to young girls. It is a
period of compulsory eonlessiou—con
science-cleaning, as they call it. They
are very pious in their way. They attend
to their religious duties with the same in
terest which they display a few years be
fore in dressiug'and undressing their dolls,
and will display a few years late; putting
the lessons they learned with their dolls
to a more practical use.—Allantic Month
ly.
Pat and the Post-Office Clerk.
'Faith, an' have vez iver a letther fur
me, ver honor ?'
What name ?' asked the urbane offi
cial.
Why, me ow•n name; ac coorse. Who'd
'What is your name ?' continued official
still urbane.
'Faith an' it was me father's afore me,
an' would be yit, but he's gone dead,'
'Confound you, what do you call your
self i" loosing his temper.
Bedad,' says Pat, firmly, I call taeself
a gentleman, an' it a pity there isn't a
couple av us,' •
•Stand back!' commanded the ofriciai,
with dignity.
'The diva aback I'll shtand ontil I get
me letther.
How can I give it to you, if you won't
tell me who you are, you stupid, thick
headed bogtrotter ?'
'An' is that what you're paid for—
abusin' honest people that ask fur their
rites? Gi' me the letther, or be the
whiskers o' Kate Kearnev's cat, I'll cast
me vote a ,, in you whim I git me papers.'
You blundering blockhead,' broke in
the now really angry clerk, can't you tell
nie how your letter is addressed? '
'llhressed ! How shottld it be dliressed,
barrin' a sheet of paper, like any other ?
Conic, hand up vie;
'The deuce take you! won't you tell me
who you are ?'
Faith, I'm an Irishman bred and born,
seed, breed an' ginvration. Me father
was cousin to one-eyed Harvey Mugra,
the process server; an' me moother be
longed to the ?dooneys, of Kilmathouad.
You're an ignorant ould disciple, and if
you'll only creep out ov yet. hole, I'll welt
yer hide like a new shoe. An' av ye git
any satisfaction out a' me, me name's not
Barney O'Flynn.'
Oh, that's your name, is it?' said the
satisfied official, seizing and shuffling a
pile of letters. 'There's your letter sir.'
EARTH EATING. -it 18 well known that,
in different parts of the world, there arc
people who eat earth; among them are
some of the natives of Jaya, who eat a
red kind of earth as a luxury. This
earth, which is soft and smooth to touch,
has been analysed by a German chemist,
who finds it very rich m iron, with a small
quantity of potassa and soda. Some
tribes eat earth to stay the pangs of hung
er by filling their atomaches, and because
at times they can get nothing better; but
the people in Java eat their earth, baked
iu thin cakes, as an agreeable- variety in
their general diet. The cakes, when
slightly moistened, are rich an unctuous,
and the enjoyment in eating is supposed
to consist in the sensation produced by a
fatty substance. It is a curious face in
the history of hum bWO,
struck by LlSLptyng.
How IT FEELS-A VOICE ED.0.11 TILE
SRAIMW OF DEATH.
The Chicago 71ibune has the fallowing
from Rochelle, 11l On the evening of
the tenth day of July, 1870, I was struck
by lightning under the following dream
stances t lam a farmer, and had gone
to the pasture, three-fourth of a mile
from the house, on horseback to drive
home some cows. A heavy shower bad
just fallen, accompanied by much light
ning and loud thunder, and a little ruin
was still falling—we would say it was
"sprinkling.' While riding through the
field I discovered a small cluster of cock
lebn rrs a noxious weed that infests many
farms in this section of the country. The
cattle were feeding nearme. I dismount.
ed and held the horse with one hand, and
proceeded to pull up the burrs with the
other. While stooping to pull the last
One, my hand grasped close to the root,
the horse standing with his head partly
over my stooping body,
A FLASH OF LIGHTNING
struck the horse, entering his head in and
behind his left ear. tearing two holes ha
the skin behind the ear, end though he
was wet with the rain, the hair was singed
from his head, neck and shoulders, and
one front leg to the ground; hoof course,
was instantl killed. A small portion of
the electric fluid struck me on the right
temple, singing the lashes of the right
eye, and slightly burning or scalding the
face, rendering me unconscious fora little
time. The following were the sensations
and phenomena as I observed and remem
ber them; First, I felt myself enveloped
in a sheet of perfectly white light, accom
anied by a sense of suffocation by hear.
The light could be seen as well through
the back of the head as with the eyes, and
appeared to ezteful several feet on all
sides of me; that' I experienced a sense of
danger, and tried to escape injury from my
horse. Then followed
A TROUBLED DREAM,
in which I was hauling a load of hay in
company with another person, and in
spite of all the effort I could make to
avoid it, the loud of hay was about to fall
lon me. When in the dream I made a last
desperate effort to spring from under the
hay, I found myself standing on my feet.
The first thing I — bbserved tvas that the
cattle, in fright, were twang from me,
and next, that I stood in front of the
prostrate horse. Instantly Icomprehend
ed situation, and listened to hear the
thunder that should have accompanied
the lightning, but no thunder could be
heard. I felt no pain and no sensation.
except a mental exultation, which lasted
but a few seconds. At tirat I thought the
lightning had struck near me, and had
slightly stunned the horse and myself,
Then I observed the water on every hair
and the moisture in the eyes, nostrils'and
month of the horse tole boiling, having
the appearance and making a noise like
fine drops of water on a hot iron, which
continued for several seconds. This WWI
a phenomenon I never heard of, probably
because a person near enough to see it is
most always rendered unconscious too
long to make the observation. Judging
from the distance the cattle had run, I
was unconscious less than six seconds.
Finding that the horse did not breathe,
I proceeded to pall off the saddle and
bridle, and then I felt a severe pain in my
head, which continued for sevensl hours,
followed by soreness which seemed to be
in the substance of the brain, with an in
clination to inflammation, but at the end
of a week no effects of the lihgtning were
felt.
Around the World In 18”.
In these modern days any one may suc
cessfully rival Captain Cook, and without
much trouble, or any great outlay of time
or money., Taking Liverpool as his start
ing point, his route will be as follows;
Fron t Liverpool to New York, in nine
days, 8,000 miles; New York to Chicago,
thirty hours, 890 miles; Chicago to San
Francisco, five days five hours, 2,440 miles ;
San Francisco to Yokohama, twenty Jaya,
4,700 miles; Yokohama to Hong Kong,
6 days 1,600 miles; Hong Kong to Cal
cutta, fourteen days, 3,500 miles; Calcut
ta to Bombay, by Calcutta and Northern
India Railroad, two days, 1,200 mires;
Cario to Alexandria, by Suez Canal, five
hours, 100 miles; Alexandria, to Marseil-;
les, six days, 1,800 miles to Calais, by
rail, thirty-two hours, 615 miles; Calms
to Liverpool, eleven hours, 310 miles.
Making a total distance of 23,765 miles,
traversed in seventy-seven days and tea
hours. Thns has steam reduced a peril-
ous and uncertain journey of years.
What-Girls Should Drink.
Dr. Dio Lewis, in his book "Our
says
am astonished that ayoung woman
who is ambitions of a clear, - fine akin
should drink tea. !Wan great enemy to
fair complexion. 4111111oon as tea drink•
log becomes a reg ;habit, the eye of
the discriminating observer detects it in
the skir. It compromises the complex*
ion, probably, by deranging the liver.
Weak tea or coffee may be used occasional
ly, in moderato quantity, without harm ;
and those who'live much in the open air,
and are occupied with hard work, may
drink either, in considerable quantities,
without noticeable harm; bet I advise all
young women who would preserve a soft,
clear skin and quiet nerves, to avoid all
drink but cold water. It is an excellent ,
practice to drink ono or two Abuses •of
cold water on lytug down at night, and
on rising in the morning. If you hare
good teeth, and can help. the food into
your stomach without using any fluids,
except the saliva, it will, in. the long run,
contribute much to yottEhetilth,
—"l've been thinking," said little ProbY,
"about this here women sullhge business.
S'posing," said be, "that—a—now—Olive
Logan, for instance, should be made
President of this great and glorious
country, bequeathed to us by noble sires,
and ; all that, she'd be President Logan *
wouldn't she ?" We bowed. "Welt, now,
ipoaing ehe was to marry, say, a Wu) •by
the name of—of—arlaus, for ingtll44‘
would Antbe.Ttraident Lepuier rps4l.
4e4t. tfrkirtr"