.i..;. er.:;:-Ver;ii-r. „&.;r-ol i- -r . -.C: : - .,- ,..: r' ...-„:,..•':._ • • .
. ,
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3.1 ~-; ~.1!-,- ; 11. , , -,_ ... ..- . . .
fit. -.:.! .... r..a...,,..7,-.: i.; .. .) .
,n, , . ..^.-:r.. 1‘ , '.7 . .:.:.!:., t
H ,a. :;“.. - .7. :: 4 .: •i ' ..,.-
--4.7, - -.', t..--,...q . ~ ., f i! ",., 7 - . ..;-.. , 4 , 1 C; : -1;.
' . • . ):.1 , r.1 -T, ;:i LF'; , ;:-.;r: -- .lflt ---.- ;it • ~,,..
:.:-.:' -: . ' - :ii ', .; L; --, ~,
. ' '..• .. ..,.."..... - , . (
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- • - . •• .. ~,.., 't , ~.,;,•:;f r..;,.7-", 1 - . L. rlf - 1(1^!-;.ri; -- ..-. t......:. Ti J.,...
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:,.., „ m.., - - ti.,
0 . ,,:., 1
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. 1
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.... . , ... . 4111 :
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~ :,;~_
- 11.t1
t _r*i ~~~:..
,: es lulf.1:1r:
-041,,d 4 , 1“w0.).
TrOpnetor...
•
Ituoiutoo gado.
DB. W. W. 81111T11,
brertrr. Rooms At his datelllnsr. text door and of the
/republican totottog office. Mike Writs:rata Oa. x.
/Waimea. May ;1871—U '
Tus-usanzit-liat Hal Solt
: Maria Kanto Is Ow barber. who can amp:utant to
onler; Cult brown, buck and crizaley bolt, In Ma
- Aleleejnytnp stain. There you will Ind him, over
oere'o store.below Mellmales—lnst ono door.
Montane, :one 7,lStl.—tf C. MORRIS.
' J. IL & A. IL BeCOLLIMIL
Ay/01min
uose, Offi
e 18
s Lair ce ove r tbe Bank, 11teitrose
Noo3ley 10, 71.
DM D. A. LATROP.
faU opened an cake, at the toot of Cheatnut street, near
the Catholic Charcit, lettere he can be conatdted at al
MIMS
CROSSMION & BALDWEV,
arioassys AT LAW.—Once over the store of Wen
Jaialfent, on Pablle Avenue, Montrose Pa.
W. 1. enossmos. Fl.'L. Dauarni.
Noitrose.Msreh WM.
3. D. ♦AIL,
tlessarivento Pummel' xerreifielelfoll. Hupatmmeatly
located himself In Montrosle, Pa., where he will prompt
ty mead to ill exib his proreudon widtwhiett be may
be Wove& Odle* and !wider/ea west of the Court
Renee, hear reel d Watson`. °ldea.
Moottoee, February 418:1.
LAW OFFICE•
ntat wATgar. , 4'; Arterners at Lsw, at the old take
of Bentley B Fitch, Montrose, Pa.
t. f. Inca plan. 11, 'll.[
CHARLES N. STODDARD,
Wales. in Boots and Shots, nets mid Blini. LIMB= Ind
Findings, Main Street, Ist door below Boyd . • Store,
Wort made to older. and repotting done nutty. •
Moult° se. Jan. 1, 141.1.
LITTLES do BLAKESLEE ,
attorneys and COLMIIMMUII at Law. Office the one
beretorore occupied by LLB. a 0. P. Little. on Ude
street. Montrose., Pa. [Aprll2o.
It. S. amain GEO. C. LIMA. L L. lIIALICLIBLIni.
B. Mcf[nuts. C. C. Patron?, W. 11. McCort'.
NefEENZIK, FAUTIOT & CO.
Healers to Dry Goods. Clothing. Ladles andMlsses
tine Shoes. Mao. agents for the Bret AZDeriello
Tea and Coffee Company. [Montrose. Pa .ap.
LEWIS KNOLL,
STUMM AND HAIR Daum°
Shop In the new PolitoMee buttdlnc, where be wfll
be found ready to attend all who may want anything
In his line. Montrose, In. Oct- 13. 1339.
O. M. HAWLEY,
DEALSR In DRY GOODS. OROCPMES. CROCKETT.
DArd.care. Data, Cap, Boots-Shoes, Ready Made Cloth
ing, Palate, OIL. etc., New SlTlford. Pa. rant. 8, 69.
DB. S. W. DAYTON,
PRYSICTAN d; SURGEON. tenders Ala easter* to
the tit lulls of Great Bend and etrtnley. Odic* et his
reAddenee. opposite Datuam Ildtute, O't. Bend vinare.
Sept. let, IS(3.—lf
A. 0. WARREN.
ATTORNEY A: LAW. Bounty. Back Pal. Patriot.
and Ezent on Claims attnnded to. Offer
oor below Boyd's Bane. Hontrorc.P*. [An. I.'C9
N. C. SUTTON,
Auctioneer, and Insurance Agent,
aul G3IS PriendurtHey Pa.
C. S. GILBERT,
.A.lisaticoma.e.cr.
Great. Bead, Pa
17. fit.
angt au f
AM[ ELY,
Q. es. .a....2.c0tic.32.00z-.
ET=I
JOHN GROVES,
F trITIONABLE TAIIOI3, Montrose, Pa. Shop oyez
Chandler's Store. Ataorders Mind In 'first-rate style.
tiny; done on short notice. and warranted to at.
W. W. SHITII,
0 .BINET AND (Alain RANITACTIIISRB.—Poo
of Alain .acct, Montrose. Pa. jour. I_ 1369.
IL BITIIIIITT,
DSALE'R la Staple and Fancy Dry G00d... Crockery
Hardware, Iron, Stoves, Dro gn, Oil., arid Paint,
Bootaand Shoes, Oats & Cap Fero, Bu Robe.
Grocerles.Provislons a:e..New Milford al
DB. E. P. HINES,
11.• permanently located at Prlendsvllle for the par
pose af practicing medicine and surgery in all Ito
branches. Ile ma y be found at tba Jackson Bova
Office boars from 8 a. m., to 8. p. m.
Friendsville, Pa., Aug, 1. 16%9.
STROUD & BROWN.
FIRE AND LIPS lIIVJAANCS AGENTS. AP
bastuess Wended to promptly. on [Mr terms. Ofßee
first door north of 'Montrose flora," sat Male of
Public Avenue, Montrose, Pa. Veg. LINO.
Stumm. &mourn. • Casstis 1.. Damns.
- .
war. D. LIJSK,
ATTORNEY AT LAW. Montrose. Pa. Otace oppo.
rite the Terbelt Rouse. near the Court Roam
Ann. L 136 A.--11
ABEL TIIBIZELL,
D 3ALffft in Drags, Patent Medicines, Chemicals
Liquors, Paints, 01.1a,Dyo Stuffs. Varnishes, Win
Glass, Gruccriea, Glass Ware, Wall and Window pa,
per. Stone-ware, Lamps. Kerosene. Machinery Oils.
Truism'. Guns, Ammunition, Knives. Spectacles
Rashes.
Washes. Fancy Goods, Jewelry. Perfu
twin lone of the most numerous, atensive. and
valuable collections of Good. In Susquehanna Co.—
Established In 1848. (Montrose, Pa.
D. Iv, SEARLE,
ATTOttNITY AT LAW. °Mee over the Store of A,
Lathrop, hi th e Brick alga. *mileage. Pa. [aarrta
DR. W. L. RICHARDSON,
PuTster.ts & straGEON. tenders bin profensions
nerviest to the citizens of Montrone end vicinity.—
Oaten at his residence, on the comer east of Ihnyr•
Bros. Foundry. [hug. 160.
DR. E. L. GARDNER,
PLITSICIAN and SURGEON. Montrose. R. Giver
especial attention to diseases of the Boast end
Lungs and all at
diseases. °Mee over W. B.
Dean., Boards at Benrle's Hotel. [deg. I. 1813.
BIIIINS & NICUOLS,
D V.' 1, nBJ3 In Drugs, Medicines, Chemicals, Dye
st Paints , Oils. Varnish. Liquors. Spier*. Panty
art_r_les, Patent Medicines, Perfumery and ToiletAr•
tides. Prescreptiona carefully compounded--
I'l'olle Asenne,alxive scathes Dotal. liontrese. Pa
A. 8. Dumas, Anna Mono:La.
Aug. 1, W:9.
DB. E. L. ILINDEICIL,
PnTsTcL&N & BIIUGEON, respectfully , tenders hL
professional services to the Ctiken of Friendsvitir
and vicinity. Eir*Mee lathe °Mot of Dr. Leet
noerds at J. llosford's. Aug. 1.19&
HUNT BRoTaERS,
sczerioN, PA-
Whotesale a Betel Daslasth
HARDWARE, IRON, STEEL,
NAILS, SPIKES, SHOVELS,
BUILDER'S HARDWARE,
NINE RAIL. COON TEBBONS 4 T BAIL &Arm ,
RAILROAD A WNINO &REPUB.&
PARRIAGE SPIII2TOLA_
_ANLKIS RESINS ANI
poiss. BOLTB, RIM and 'we.smirße,
Ammo RANDS. MALLEABLE
IRONS. OURS.SPWIRS,
ritZ,Zon . .
SEAT SPINDLES. _ aft
aIVVILS. VICES, STOCKS. and DIES. BELLOW
" • . DEERS, SIEDGEII. WILES. ae.ae.
pss $ pfla ITlLLeaws. MOLTEN% PACKING
Al VELE TGWU. _rungs PARIS
M
clown , . OB & GRINDSTONES.
MINCE WINDOW w OLASILL=Ra
FINDINGS
asomstf
autos. EareaSETllta. , . _
imusge4rovenvizi
rinelsozaux sa m g
a kaDe l ibuattrest.
t jloortb eq e .._p yorpuderigg tei t ri,
Aistithedes4tHg e
Geld, in rasa-
Ani the igennsyleanla; *Weedand Tbiptdaltane
Pretebtapr . 0 - e
gemdosigadaenjaAamnaot, mama
the . lams inwns and enalogad ti sliest Use ta um
camera Um Matdddi. rclull!; Kt/urn int
TllO Operation eau tei changed buitaatly fr om a idgb
speed to one a Wed skew,
_without atop, thee aft*
in Itself to bad places and Ilabt and
pd beayy cloy,
a ac a eaten re t o • ge 1
fae;i ramie d i
mi 4au tla le titro oribzt beaM f t a • I
or d o 3 a
Mean !non Abg
prfottly relatio is Gnu"
Zon4ose,lBll—rT lrr perm TkRO,S.
Notfli fount
thcal ths dtbasde for Uutb.
BY lams G. mamma
Ikaresellausenoillar. moo.
The robins sang in the =hat the buds Into
Masson grow;
Little of human sorrow the bads said the robins
knew!
Sick, In an alien household, the poor French
neutral lay.
Into her lonesome garret fell the light of the
April day,
Through the dusty -window, curtained by the
spider' warp and woof,
On the loose laid floor of hemlock, on oaken
rills of root
The bedjurit's thdecTisateheralit, the telmuSi
ma the stand,
The wheel with flaxen tangle u it dropped
liom her sick hand!
What to her was the song of the robin, or warm
morning-light,
As she lay In the trance of the dying, heedless
of sound or sight ?
Done was the work of her hands, she bad eaten
herbitter bread ;
The world of the alien people lay behind her
dim and dead.
But her soil went back to its child-Urns t she
s►w the sun o'erflow
With gold the Basin of Minas and set over Gas
per=
The low, bare ilata et ebb-tide, the rush of the
see at flood
Through Inlet and creek mad river, horn dike to
upland wood ;
The gulls in the red of morning, the fish-haves
rise and fell,
The drift of the fog in the moonshine over the
dark coast-wall.
She SAW the face of her mother, she heard the
song she sang.
AO tar of Glintly, slowly, the bell for vespers
rang!
By her bed the hud-Geed ralatrets sat smooth
ing the wrinkled sheet,
Peering into the face so helpless and &•sing the
ice-cold feet.
With a vague remorse atoning for her greed and
long abuse,
By care no longer heeded and pity too late for
use.
Up the stairs of the garret softly the son of the
mistress stepped.
Leaned over the head-board, covering his face
with his hands and wept.
Outspake The mother who watched him, sharply,
with brow a-frown,
" What 1 love you the papist, the beggar, the
charge of the town r
" Be she papist, or beggar, who Iles here, I blow
and God knows •
I love her, and fain would go with her wherever
she goes 1
"Oh mother! the sweet face mime pleading, for
love so athirst;
You saw but the town-eharge ; I knew her
God's angel at first."
Shaking her gray head, the mistress hushad
down a bitter cry.
And, awed by the silence and shadow of death
drawing nigh,
She murmured a Psalm of the Bible, but closer
the young girl pressed
With the last of her life In her fingers, the cross
to her breast.
" My son, come away," cried the another, her
voice cruel grown
" She is Joined to her idols like Ephraim ; let
her alone r'
Btu he knelt with his hand on her forehead, his
lips to her ear,
.I.nd he called back the soul that was passing:
'Marguerite do you hear r
She paused on the threshold of hesven ; lore's
pity, =prise.
Wistful, tender, 11l ap for an instant the cloud
of her eyes.
With his heart cm his lips he kisied her, but
never her cheek grew red,
And the words the living long for he apake in
the ear of the dyad.
And the robins sang In the hrehard where bads
to blossoms grew
Of the folded hands and the still face, never the
robins 'mew I
Nosy inc Tod, of Nevada.
The wickedest woman I now must declare,
Was Mary..llcTod, of Nevada;
There never has lived one so fidl of
Since Beelzebub first cast a shadols:i
You can Judge for yourself In tending the truth
As told of this Eve's erring daughter—
"is founded on ibct—the experience of
The Reverend Thomas X. Orter.
He sought to recover this woman of vice,
From sin and the gulf of perdition—
And in 'a few words I will tell yrns the luck
He had in his laudable mission.
One nght, when revivals were gomg on strong
This Mary area loud in repenting;
She dragged him bride het and clinging to him
While o'er him her team she ma maw,.
She humid him anderied hke a penitent wretch,
Her heart Irani her sins was sure turning—
lie thought of the glorious triumph for him,
La plucking this "brand from the burning?'
Till sobbing, at lad on the rude door the sank,
The peace of her mind gave Ur gold,
While he his attention to others applied—
Spoke of sin and adjured them to fly It.
Once more then rammed be to reinsure her,
Who had thus become so pure-hearted—
But nowhezi could see her—the "bland" bad
gone out,
, 'And Mary MeTod bad departed.
113 late ibele—lstr thought-40 he smelt fie
• / 1 1 3 tritek
7 Q leolnirProwazsgoing.
#zoi kw" YIN Plb>": 1 0 4P Old to Unser,
&An AV are mmitng;
11610 1 014, 16 .
Kb k . Prigi
"Re VOW 1 1 X 132 4 40 4 0 444 lief iten
NscloeedtbaaWEe WO in deWilledSOlVang.
444 0 144 that /10 ' •
4 be DeTei6 soll o Of maitusloplwll -
comatios ebb emexeme* WON—.
etewaplcti *etch of the b, be gays,
Thal eißltd 11434 e of AlTerade,!
:if UM; •
MONTROBEir - IPA4 lIPNESDAit
JUNE' 28 '-1871::
_i; itictUattujuo.
LOVE EEQIIITED.
Translated from the French.
BY NILS. ILLRYILL LAFFITTE JOlllit3ON
Ono beautiful Jane morning in the
year 18—, General Darly, the tame who
fought under the first Napoleon, was
walking in the park attached to his hand
some domain, situated near Metz. By
his side was his young piece, a girl of sev
enteen summers. Lucy Darly was petit
in figure , and exquisitely formed; her
face was not, strictly waling, beautiful,
her features not being regular; but it was,
nevertheless, singularly interesting and
expressive, portraying each feeling in its
varied shade.
For some days Lucy had obseived that
her uncle appeared occupied, and fearing
ho might be troubled, and thinking a
quiet walk in the park would serve to
divert him, and perhaps lead him to con
fide his cares to her, she had persuaded
him to accompany her to the village, a
mile distant from the chateau. They had
gone bat a few steps when General Darly
turned to her and said:
" Lucy, my dear, aro y ou aware that
you are seventeen to-day e"
" Yes, Uncle, and here is a rosebud I
present you in honor of the day." As
she spoke she placed the flower in his
hand.
" My child, I desire to speak seriously,' 3
continued the General. "I have received
orders to join the army; you are, as you
know, an orphan; I am not willing, my
Lucy. to leave you, who are so young, un
protected, and have decided to accept for
you an offer of marriage, that has been
made you by the baron Dalville. It is a
union I much desire, and one your dead
father was particularly anxious to con
summate. Dalville is a good fellow, a
soldier like myself, who will, I am sure,
do all in his power to render you happy ;
I have but to add that the wedding will
take place in a mouth." •
" But Uncle," replied Lucy timidly,
"I don't know the baron, I am very yonug
and so happy here in my home."
" Nonsense, let me hear no more about
the matter; you will both-like each other
well enough ; I have settled everything,"
said the General, in a tone of annoyance.
This silenced the girl, and the subject
was dropped. On her return to the
chateau Lucy retired to her chamber, to
prepare to receive der guest and proposed
husband. Slowly, and with little interest,
the toilet was performed. Educated with
French views, she did not attempt to dis
pute the authority of her uncle; but she
shrank with nervous dread at the thought
of marriage with one she had never seen
and did not love. Lucy was still in her
dressing-room whetr the traveling-carriage
nrew uo perore the door of the et... -•..
Through the lace curtains she caught a
glimpse of a tall stately, man ; she could
not see his face, as it was shaded by a
military hat, and in a moment more she
heard her uncle call angrily:
•
" You have been at least an hour dress
ing, and should have been present to re
ceive the baron," said General Darly, as
drawing her arm within his own, he led
her forward to meet the stranger.
Lucy had never looked more charming;
she was dressed in simple white muslin, a
blue band around her waist, her black
hair drawn back from her face fell in long
curls upon her shoulders, her cheeks were
flushed and her eyes Sparkled with ner
vousness. As she entered the room Dal
vine was standing by an 'open window;
hearing steps, he turned, and with an
easy moved towards them. . The
in uction Was soon over. Lucy heard
him coldly express pleasure at meeting, a
light pressure of his lips upon her hand
followed, and then seemingly forgetful of
her presence, the baron entered into con
versation with the General, and Lucy stole
quietly away.
The baron remained but a few days at
the chateau, and then took his departure,
it being arranged that ho should return
the day prior to the wedding. During
his stay his manner had been studiously
polite, but never once had his handsome
features and beautifully modulated voice
expressed more than respect, and Lucy
saw that this marriage was looked upon
by him as necessary formality, a wife be
required to received his guests and at
tend to the domestic arrangements of his
house, but that he deemed a display of
love a superfluous adjunct, and so with
no power to oppose and but little strength
of will, Lucy Darly allowed matters to
proceed, and in the short space of four
weeks found herOf wedded to the baron
Dalville, and established in Paris, in one
of the most sumptuous hotels of the
"Chausse'-a-Antin."
The baroness Dalville soon became the
reigning beauty of the gay metropolis;
from being a merry, light-hearted girl, the
bad merged into a brilliant piquant wo•
man, her beauty extolled and her wit
quoted.
Although entertaining a feeling of, re
spect for the baron, Lucy had never
known love; nor did she feign a senti
ment he did not inspire; his manner was
always kind and considerate, but never
affectionate. Her life, however, glided by
unruffled by a single wave of annoy
ance
•
A year after her marriage Madato Dal
vile, gave birth to a little boy ; by her
request he was called Albert; from that
hour the young baronnes ceased to ap
pear iu society. A first delicacy of health
precluded the possibility; but at length
her absorbinglove for her child rendered
even vs' temporary separation distasteful.
When the boy *vas about four years of
age be was seized with Croup, and ISO
nolentiy. attacked that histnether sent in
all haste for Saint Albs; a celebrat43ll pbj
sician and the brother 'et a'attar school-
When Saint Albe entered the robm.the
bright boy lay upon Loey's knees, gasping
for breath. ,
"Save my child r murmured the un
happy mother, tubing ber tearful epee to
An Kind' face - that so plainly ezppared
foliputbynnd interest.
• Lie Panted, dear 'lady, that will do
my, lima s wao the brief ;espouse. ink=
the boy tenderly intiorrint the phy
oimootlaid him upon the coach, and then
4rcw u4truments, and by a silent
appeal implored Luerto.. leave bim.- In
an instant the mother comprehended the
meaning.,the operation of tracheotomy
was to he performal,ancl convulsed by
grief she tarred into an adjoining room.
In a brief space Lacy was recalled; the
child, although, still in a critical condi
tion,thed more freely, and Saint Albe
ezprease hope. The baron was absent
at the me, having gone to Lyons on
bril
blisinesa,of a political nature:
Day }rid night the young
. physician
watchedwith Lucy beside the ruck child.
For some days his life hang upon a thread,
for when the violence of the disease sue
cumhed.to the remedies used, other aymp
toms developed.
It was Saint Alb° that cheered and
strengthened her to bear the trial; his
voice that bade her hope, and prayed
when the words refused to leave her parch
ed and trembling Bps, and be that told
her when the crisis bad past, that the boy
would live ; that W. darling was restored
to her. Both were young, and each re
cognized in the allele° of their.ewn heart
that kindred gyre th y had given birth
to love. Lucy en vored to hide the
thought from herse , and sought to at
tribute to gratitudthe feeling he had l
inspired. When th baron returned, in
.
vain were all his eft' is to induce Saint
Albe to accept renniteration.
"I have one reqneit to make," he said,
in reply, "namely, that you will give me
Alfred's portrait as asonvenir, it is all I
can accept.'
The wish was cheerfully granted, and
at a dinner given in honor of the boy's
recovery, Saint Albe was presented by
the baron with en exquisite miniature of
mother and child. On the back of the
gold case, these words were engraved :
"From a mother, In the preserver of
her child." As he received the gift, the
young physician looked at Lucy; their
eyes met, and both flushed painfully.
Boma mouths passed; Madame Dalvillo
seemed visibly to decline in health with
out there being any apparent cause. One
afternoon, toward twilight, she bad thrown
herself upon a conch, in her boudoir, and
exhausted by the beat of the summer day,
had fallen asleep. She was awakened by
1 hearing a step, and opening her eyes she
saw Saint Albe bending over her.
" My beloved," he murmured, and then,
as though the words had overpowered
him, he sank upon his knees beside her.
"Let use speak this once," ho continued,
rapidly, seeing she was about to interrupt
him.
" Lucy, my darling, although I have
been silent until now, you know that I
love you, wildly—rpassionately. I have
read you secret, yet I implore you this
once to tell me that I am also dear to
you." As he ceased speaking, she rose
slowly ; her mournful eyes were riveted
upon his face, and she trembled visibly.
" Saint Albe," Arask)in s i, his
•• Call NI , you, 110 Q to su a ,we
must part never to meet again ; I demand
this as a roof of the lure you profess;
you will, if you am true, respect my wish."
With these words she moved away, and
before he could detain her, she had left
the room.
A few days after, it was rumored
throughput the city that the celebrated
Doctor Saint Albe had left Paris; having
disposed of his eft:cts, all truce of him
was lost.
Two years elatad. One day while
riding in the Bois, the baron Da!vine was
thrown from his horse and killed instant
ly. As the baronesa had never entirely
recovered her health or spirits, this shock
preyed upon her gteatly, and the follow
ing spring she wasadvised to visit Mun
ich, in order to vinsult aphTsician of
great skill, residing there. Having reach
ed the city, Lucy, on the day following,
called upon Dr. Heimann, who was quot
ed as being a great4ecluse. Ushered in
to the private oftiCe, bile was requested to
wait until he was disengaged. The room
was richly furnished, with every comfort
and elegance, and led into a spacious li
brary. At length a door at the extremity
of the apartment opened, and a tall hand
some man entered; his eyes were bent
upon tin ground, and there was a look of
sadness rn his entire bearing.
As he approached her Madam Dalville
tittered s low cry. In the stranger her
heart Instantly recognized Saint Albe.
He raised his head ; their eyes met, and
with ono word, "Lucy!" he reached her
side.
" We have met once again,' he continu
ed sadly, "after a long, long separation."
" Yes," she murmured, "but it may be
never to part. lam free."
"Thank God r was the fervent prayer,
as ho clasped her tenderly to his breast.
Only a Shadarur.
A story is told of a well known gentle
man who sometimes imbibes to freely of
the ardent, going home latent night re
cently, and mistaking his shadow outline
on his front door for a man. Ile paused
a little in surprise, and then lifted his hat,
very gracefully,. bade him good evening.
The shadow imitated his politeness by
raising his hat, but Of course said noth
ing.
"A Ivry pleasantevening,"said the gen
tleman.
No reply.
"This is my house, I believe," waving
his hand.
• .
The band of the shadow went through
the same graceful curve.
"I should like to get in sir, if you'll
stand aside," but the shadow made no
movements to let him pass
The gentleman was evidently surprised.
Ho repeated his desire to pass in, but the
shadow remained ail.
His wife, bearitig her husband's voice.
l o ok e d tinnuilk.:tha,,window blind, and
seeitvg no one but himself, asked why he
didn t come in.
"So I would, my dear, but this gentle
man," pointing to the shadow,"iniusta on
blocking up the door."
His wife quietly opened the door. re
marking, "that, was your shadow."
"Indeed," said the puzzled citizen:
"well now I thought he was a mighty tine
looking fellow to be so impolite, and
went in. Whenever he shows a disposi
tion no w t o remain out late at night ) his
wife has only to remind him of the shad
ow on the door step to insure a speedy
return.
Starr of a Deserted Maiedon.
Not far from Morristown, N. J., and
Situated on what is known as the Madison
road, may be seen a large and fine house,
standing in the middle of extensive
pleasure grounds, bearing the marks of
having been the abode of persons of taste
and wealth. The condo beautiful park
now, however, presents the appearance of
having been the camping grounds of at
least a regiment of demoralized soldiers,
so numerous are the tracks everywhere of
wanton fires and wanton hacking among
the trees, shrubs and evergreens.
Where once were flower beds d rare
plants, now browse stray cattle d pigs
14
by the score, root to their noses' ontent
ou the soft turf of the lawn. ap
proaching the house • a still more to 'We
scene of ruin may be found. The 1
doors stand wide open, and as the stranger
enters, several cattle. t.,:dadraurvty aim
from their comfortable position on the
drawing room floor. The house is three
stories high and surmounted with a
cupola. The rooms are spacious and
numerous, and were &nished in the best
possible manner when built. Windows
opening to the floor, and consisting of
large and valuable panes of glass, oppose
little or no obstruction to the matte or
pigs, the former generally taking sash and
all with them, when leaving in baste.
On the floor of what has evidently been
the library tramps or mischevons boys
have lighted fires, whose flames were fed,
from appearances, by the doors of cup
boards, stair railings, and other small
pieces of woodwork V the house. In
many places the floor has been burnt al
most through, and how the house has es
caped from a fire is a wonder. "With
carbonized ends of wood, hideous and
revoluting pictures have been drawn up
on the pure, white walls, together with
words of indecent character.
The plaster centre ornaments of the
rooms have been the mark for the intru
ders to shy empty bottles and stones at,
and all are greatly damaged. Door knobs,
bells and their wires, pulls,
water faucets,
the paraphernalia of the bath room, and
every thing of a like movable nature, have
been wrenched from their fastenings and
carried away. Window shutters have also
disappeared, though probably burnt as
fuel and not taken from'the house. Such
a scene of wreck and desolation can
scarcely be found within thirty miles of
the city of New York. One might im
agine such a wreck among the desolation
of the South, but in the prosperous North
its history is unparalleled.
The house has this sad story. Built
but a few years ago, it passed into the
possession of a wealthy New York mer
chant, who used every endeavor to make
it a home of beauty, No expense was
spared, and the house and grounds booarnp
noted for their appropriate belongings.
Tha m ;atm.%pf the, heirm , thr wife thp
owner, unfortunately there sickened and
died. The friends gathered to attend the
funeral, and the body was borne from , its
beautiful earthly home to the cemetery.
The last to leave the house was its owner,
and be, turning the key in the lock, left
it just as it was to its fate. The neigh
bore clamored for days for entrance, but
no one was within, and all attempts to
persuade its owner, who had gone to New
York, to return to it, were unavailing.
Attempts were made to rent or purchase
it, but to neither plait would the owner
accede. If sold at all, the ground should
be sold for a cemtery. On their peril, he
forbade his neighbors to enter the house.
The thieves of the neighborhood soon
found out the rich field, and for nights
pillaged it. The constables hearing of
this, laid in wait in the house one night,
and arrested three men as they were roll
ing up the fine carpets for the purpose of
taking them away. The owner, when
notified to appear and proseente the
thieves, not only refused to do so, but
threatened to prosecute the constable, for
entering his house, saying it was bad
enough to have three thieves breaking in
to a house sacred to the memory of his
wife, without having as many constables
also therein.
Some friends, seeing the peculiar state
of feeling of the owner, removed The
balance of the furniture to a safe place,
and the house remains open to the world.
Bad persona congregate there, and the
house at night is supposed to be the resort
of thieves and robbers.
Some years ago a squatter settled him
self in a little gardener's house on the
property, and plows the land and reaps
his crops tie if the fee simple rested in
him. The owner has refused to notice
him or turn him out. Last spring a cer
tain general in the United States army
offered to rent or buy the property, but
not being himself a cemetery, or possess
ing any of the religious or soothing in
fluences of that locality, his appeal was
rejected. On all other subjects the owner
is said to be most rational, and carries on
a large business with,great success. The
property is valued at $35,000.—.Y. J. Mech
anic.
Fruit .Calturo—Old Errorr Corrcted
1. Instead of trimming np" trees, ac
cording to the old fashion, to make them
long-legged and long-armed, trim them
down, so as to make them even, snug and
symmetrical.
2. Instead of manuring heavily in a
small circle at the foot of the tree, spread
the manure, if needed at all, broadcast
over the whole surface.
3. Instead of spading a small circle
about the stem, cultivate the whole sur
face broadcast.
. -
4. Prefer a well pulverized clean sur
face in an orchard with a moderately
rich soil, to heavy manuring, and a sur
face covered with a hard crust and weeds
Or grass.
5. Remember that it is better to set
out ten trees with all the necessary care to
make them live and flourish, than to set
out a hundred trees and have them all die
iron) carelessness.
6. Remember that tobacco is a plAson
and will kill insects rapidly if property ap
fplied to them, and is one of the best drugs
for freeing fruit trees rapidly of .small
vermin—and is better used in' this way
than to make men repulsive and diseased.
—Country Gentleman.
—The best foot cold—A boot-jack.
VOLUME XXVIII, NUMBER 26.
[From the Weetmlnister Review.]
Hood's !Married Life.
Socrates, Job, Milton, Byron, Shelley,
with many others, have been unhappy
in their wives. It is pleasant, there
fore, to:know that Hoo6's case was a
bright exception. Despite the sorrows,
hardships and life long disease that
crippled his energies and his married life,
the union waS a • singularly happy one.
Mrs. Hood was a woman of cultivated
mind, great moral worth and literary
sympathies. She was her husband's con
stant nurse through au illness that never
left him; cheered him when dull, acted
as amanuensis, and during, the lust few
years of his life, so devoted to him her
whole• time and thoughts that latterly
Hood became restless and unable to write
unless she was near. Seldom have the
words of the great novelist, who was al
ost u. great; Jean, mop. -man) •
realized than in the person of Mrs. Hood - :
"0 woman! a • •
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou!"
Sho needed a sweet temper to put up
with a husband so brimful of fun and
practical jokes as Hood. Nothing seemed
to ruffie her temper, and she was always
ready to laugh, even when against herself.
The reason was that she knew and loved
her husband perfectly. Nothing could
shake her confidence in him, and the
rogue was apt at times to take advantage
of her faith. Sho required to keep a strict
watch on every letter she wrote, for if she
left it for any time in Hood's presence, he
-would take advantage of her absence to
change the "ts" into "Fs," and after inter
lining here and there the most extraordi
nary statements, to add by way of climax
some ludicrously comical postscrip. Their I
children tell us that she was a capital
subject for his fun, for she believed im
plicitly in whatever he told her, however
Improbably, and though vowing seriously
not to be Liken in again, she was sure to
be caught. Her innocent face of wonder
and belief added greatly to the zest of the
jokes. On one occasion, when living 'at
the coast, Hood gave his wife some useful
hints on buying fish. "Above all things,
Jane," said he, "as they will endeavor to
impose upon your inexperience, let noth
ing induce you to buy a plaice that has
any appearaupe of red or orange spots, ai
they are sure signs of ap advanced stage
of decomposition." Accordingly Mrs.
Hood, on the faith of her newly acquired
knowledge, was quite prepared to do bat
tle with the cunning tishwornen, one of
whom called shortly afterwards. As it
happened, the woman had nothing but
plaice, which she turned over and over,
praising their freshness and beauty. Mrs.
Hood, however, was too sharp—she was
not to be taken in—the obnoxious spots
wrro thcic, lu bulli the nsnere out..
protested that they were fresh front the
water. The ran firm fit buyer gravely shook
her head, and with a look of infinite wis
dom, combined with a certain sad pity for
the woman's supposed dishonesty, observ
ed: "My good woman, it may be us you I
say, but I could never think of buyin e ,e
any plaice with those unpleasant red
spots." "Lord bless yer eyes, Mum!" re
plied the astonished fisherwoman, with a
shot, "who ever seed plaiee without
spots?" A suppressed giggle on the stairs
behind her revealed the joke, and turning
her head hastily ' Mrs. Hood caught sight
of her husband hurriedly disappearing in
an ecstasy of laughter, heaving her to up
pease the angry sea-nymph as she could. I
The moat careless reader of Hood's life,
cannot fail to be struck by . the happiness
of the poet and his family in the midst of,
continual difficulties and broken health.
Mrs. Hood is constantly talking of her
husband. Her private letters teem with
sentences beginning —"Hood said this,"
"Hood did that," "Hood took me to such
a place." The intense lovableness of the
man manifests itself in his life and poetry.
He wait essentially a f unify man, joking
with his wife, contriving allkorts of tricks
and games for his children, and after a se
vere night's labor stealing into their bed
room to leave upon their pillow some com
ical sketch to amuse them on waking.
The first few years of his married life
were the mogt unclouded lloodgver knew.
and he much needed some little happiness
to hoard up against the bitter years that
were fast comings The young couple
lived for some years in Robert street,.
Adelphi. Hood was a thorough cockney,
and though doomed by the faults of oth
ers to pass the best part of his life on the
continent, was never at home out of Lon
don. Only a city-bred man—one familiar
with the misery and squalidness and sin
of city life—could have written the "Song
of the Shirt."
Thrilling Story From Patagonia.
The Patagonians have recently fiat
cated their traditional title to being con
sidered the savagest and most barbarous
race on the face of the earth. A British
brigantine, having on American captain
named Barnes, attempted to make the
passage in March last through the Straits
of Magellan, instead of going "round the
Horn." While passing through, the cap
tain's cariosity was aroused as to the i
character of the inhabitants and country,
and notwithstanding the naked giants
who came aboard the vessel gave abun
dant evidence of the'r ferocity, the captain
had the hardihoCtd to go ashore with two
of his men and a boy, for the purpose of
"looking around.'?
The adventurous explorers not return
ing the same night, the mate became
alarmed and proposed to take another
boat and seek them. • Strangely enough,
the captain's wife, who appears to have
been the real master spirit on the vessel,
forbade this. Despite her remonstrances
bowevever, the mate the next day did,'o
ashore, and before he had gone fifty yards,
through the dark and gnarled forest, came
upon the mangled body of captain Barnes.
with both his legs cut off, in a shocking
cruel and haeking fashion, just above the
knees. He had also been stripped of his
clothing and two deep wounds were found
on his person, one on his forehead and
the other in his left breast.
An attack by a larger body of savages.
compelled the party to get back to the
ship with all speed, and the wind favor
ing, they managed to escape from a for
mutable band of pursuers in canoes. The
captain's body had to bo left behind, add
the other three sailors probably famished
a rare Terra del Pamir' feast soon after.
At lust accounts, the captain's• widow,
like a woman of business, wus recruiting
a crew at Punta Arenas to continue the
voyage with the vessel, of which she is
the principal owner.. •
A Word to Stern Fathm.
It never can ho hi°. stronglyimptessed
upon the mind," that nothing, releases„a
parent from his duties toward child. No
waywardness, no disobedience, no rebell
ion, no profligacy, can justify a father in
casting a . son or dangbter adrift, - We
hear of sons being cast off with a shilling,
of daughters being forbidden their fath
er's house, and, without any exceptiki.
such rases are proof, that,, of whatever
sins the children may have been guilty the
father is even more gui_lty,_No_wisoncan
wroptieru- arStillisrbOule MU,
- a - enme
as a father commits who is thus !Else to
the trust which ho himself has imposed—
who thus thrusts off from himself the
soul which lie called into being. A. fath•
cr should be governed by no motive. but
his child's best interests, and ttchild's best
interests can never be served by Anything
but his fitther's constant and loving mire.
If a child is so bad that his influence' is
feared on the other children, a separation
between them may bo effected. If it is
feared that money bestotied on him will
be for his injury, provisos may be made
against that, as in the case I have men
tioned. But when a father, in a St of
anger or as a reward for ill-doing, disin
herits or refuses to see his child, ho com
mits a crime which the laws indeed do
' not recognize, but whose guilt it would
take many a legal crime to outweigh.
There should be, absolutely no limit to par
ental forgiveuess and forbearance. Seven
times, and seventy times seven, should
the father receive the proidgal son
who seeks his face; and if he never seeks
his face; and if he never seeks it, if he
goes, stubborn and rebellions, not one
atom of fatherly care and interest should
relax ; for the child is his child, his off
spring. born of his will, and no violent*
can release the man from his violence ob
ligation to guard and guide, so far us pos
sible, the life which he dared to give.—
Ladies Rtposiiory.
An Abortionist's Fate:
In the case of Dr. Oliver W. Ried, who
was convicted in Philadelphia, of per
forming a criminal surgical operations,
Judge Paxson delivered a lengthy onct
very able opinion, overruling the motion
for a new trial.
This is a very important opinion in a
legal view, fur it decides for the first time
that the wife of u co-defendant not. on
" 4 . 1 competent witness for the Com
monwealth, unless sue cteuthm. fro weary
on the ground that her testimony , might
tend to criminate her husband.
It will be remembered that the parti
ceps criminis was indicted jointly with
Dr..fleid, and several days before the trial-
he married the girl, and then, when the
case was called on, be claimed a separate
trial. The girl was examined fur the
Commonwealth against Dr. Reid, and
without her testimony he could not have
been convicted.
Before sentence was passed upon. him
he said to the Court: "Your Honor, I
feel it my duty to my family and my
friends to repeat now what I have always
said, that as God is my Judge, I- am en
tirely innocent of this charge; I have
been made the victim of a foul conspiracy
to ruin me, and having already suffered
for the guilty party, I am resigned to suf
fer still more.'
The Judge said : Dr. Reid I have heard ;
what you have said, and reply toyon that
your case was tried by an honest and in
telligent jury of your own selection, and
by counsel of ; rent ability, who employed
all their skill and learning in your de
fence, and you have been found guilty.
An earnest effort has been mado to set
aside that verdict, but withoutsnecei3s. •
Years was a crime that has of lite be
come prevalent to. a terrible extent, audit
becomes the duty'of all good citizens to
suppress it with severity and liminess. I
have heard that - upon one of the most
fashionable and wealthy avenues of
neighboring city has been established, ~
palace, within whose walls this nefarious
business of yours has been carried on by
•
the wholesale.
lam determined that no such institit-
Lion shall thrive here. It is painful to ma
to sentence you, but I owe a duty to so
ciety before which all private considera-•
Lions fade out of view. You are a man of
culture, and by a proper course of living
would have been a useful and honorabla
citizen. But you have brought, upon
yourself utter ruin, not in. theiniranit of
any exalted aim, but In the of
a secret acd infamous crime, which lam
bound to punish to the tallest e#ent of
the law. , .
The Sentence of the court is, that you
pay a fine of $509 and undergo an imprts
oument of t; years and 5 months in the
Eastern Penitentiary.
A Small-Pox' Remedy.
A correspondent of the Stockton, Cali
Herald, writes as follows: "I Herewith'`
append a recipe which has been used to
my knowledge in hundreds of eases. It
will prevent or cure small-pox though the
pittings arc filling. When Jenner dis
covered cow pox in England, the world
of science hurled an avaaunche upon his •
head, bat when the most scientific school
of medicine in the world—that of Paris—
published this
• recipe as a panacea .for
small pox,
it passed unheeded: It b 'un
failing as fate, and conquerB hi every in
stance. It is harmless when.taken' by a
well person. It will also cure scarlet fever.
Here is the recipe as I have used it, and
cured my children 'of scarlet fever and
the, small-pox, when learned physicians
said the patient must die, it cured: Sul
phate of sines ode grain ; fox-glove (digi
talis,)-otm grain; half a teaspoonful of
water. When thoroughly mixed, add
four ounces of water. Either disease will
disappear in twelve hours. For a- child,",;
smaller doses, according to age. If now ~
tries would 'compel their physician!, to
this, there would bo no need . of /est... ,
boons. .IFlon.yalne advice - and exiled
ence use this , for that terrible disease.
- 1