THE , MONTROSE . Dp4OCRAT,
ECAML:EY, Proprietor.
,Insintoo Cub.
im.. w. w. surrn,
Darter. Rooms at his dwellintr, next door east of the
Republican printing °Mee. °Moo hones from oa. a.
to • r. x. Montrose, May 11, 1871—tf
THE BARBER-11o! Ho! Ho!!
Charley Morris is the barber. who can share your rate to
order• Cuts brown, black and grizzley heir, in his
oinee,just by stairs. There you will dud him, over
fiere's store. below Meltensies—just one door.
- liontrase,stane 1811.—tf C. MORRIS.
J. B. & A. H. MeCOLLUM,
ATIVIIIISTS AT LAW °Mee over the Bank. Montrtse
Pa. Montroso, May 10. IS7I. tr
DR. D. A. LATELOP.
gyp
g o d a
e gn olic . aims . t w tg e ro font o ca f atn eo n n t t, D en t
* s uited at all
times.
Montrose, April 26, ISM ly
CROSSTOWN & BALDWIN,
ATTORNZTS AT ILW.—Ofnee saw the store of Won
1. Matron!, on Penile Avenue, Montrose Pe.
MMM
J. D. VAIL,
Ilortoravarc Parmelee avn Sn Orox. Has permanently
located himself In Montrose, Pio, where he will prompt
ly attend to all calls In his profession with which he may
be favored. Office and residence west of the Court
Roue, near Fitch & Watson's office.
Montrose, February R.
LAW OFFICE•
ITrcii & WATSON. Attnrneya nt 14w, at the old otSee
of Bentley a Fitch, Montrose. Pe.
L. P. PISIIII. Van. 11. It.[
CHARLES N. STODDARD.
Dealer In Boots and Shoas lists and Caps. Leather and
Findings, Main Street, Irt door below Boyd's Store.
Work made to order, and repltring done neatly.
111cretrose. Jan. 1,1970.
LEETLES & BLAKESLEE,
Attorneys and Connedtors at Law. Office the nne
heretofore occupied by R. B. & G. P. Little. on Main
street. Moutroso, Po. [Aprll4o.
IL B. LITTLE. can. P. LITTLE. t. L. BLAKESLEE.
llcHrszte.. C. C. PannoT, SW. IL McCats.
lachr.NZlE, FAUROT & CO.
Dealer, In Dry Goode, Clothing ' La4les and Minim.
line Sheen. azente for the great Ammiren
Tea and Coffee Company. Illontro,e. Pa . np WM,
LEWIS ANOLL,
BRAVING AND lIAIR DRESTN. O.
Shop in the new Postoffice haildine, where he will
be mooed reedy to attend nll who mny want anything
In hie line. Montrose, Pa. Oct. lA, 1569.
0. M. HAWLEY.
REIMER In DRS GOODS, GROCERIES. CRIWKERT
P
hats, Caps, Bonts.Shoes. Ready Made Cloth
kw. Paints, Oas, etc., Nev Milford, Pa. pept. '69.
DR. S. IV. DAYTON,
PRTSICIAN & SURGEON. tender. his I,l"riff. to
the citizens of Great Rend and ri. Inliy indite et his
residence. opposite Barnum Reuse., G't . Bend village.
Sept. lot, if
A. 0. WARREN,
ATTORNEY A . LAW. Bounty. Back pa ,, . Pension
and Exem an Claims a ttended In. Ofree fl
oor below Boyd's Store, 1U ou oure.PA. (Au.
M. C. SUTTON, e.
Auctioneer, and Insurance Agent,
Fricnd•vllle, Pa
C. S. GILBERT,
..a.1.2.0t1.022C , 0r.
Great Bend, Pa
Mr. IS.
anal CD 1f
AMR ELI,
ET. Ei.
Ang. I, ISCO. Address, Brooklyn, Pa
30MLGROYES,
FASITIONATILE TALIOR, Montrose. Pa. Shop over
Clmndler's Store. Mlordere filed In tlnt-mte style.
tgamins done on short notice. and warranted to St.
VV. W. SMVICIII,
.111141ST AND CHAIR !I ANUFACTURF.DS.—roo ,
of Ma* erect, Montrose- Pa. )3ng. 1. ISL 9.
11. BURR ITT,
FiIIALBO.to Staple and Fancy (tooth.. Crocker"
aurdtrare, Iron, Stoves, I)ru gr. 011 r. and Faint.
Ellootsaod Stem flats & Copt!. Farr. tludalo Reba,
41rtfeerTes.Plovie lon s. c:.:., New Milford. Pa.
On. E. P. IMES,
guld:i y neptl located at Fricndsville for tbe per
pospe e
sr practicing ttreditlne and surgery In all Its
branches. Qe ratty bb foUnd at the Jackson house.
°Ate
Fitettdobirerrtt
rtlla, frorn a a.
Ang. 1 . 1 tn.. to
569. S. p. to.
STROVO & BROWN,
ftirm AVM LIFE pjI7.2ATCR ACSNTS.
business attended to prof:aptly, on tale terms. Mee
Ant doornortll ot ,, • lb:lntro:a llotel," wide o ,
Pettit Ave, Lod - tense, Pa. (Aug . [ Ag I. ISES.
naitotte. eIIACLZ.I , L. 6120,r11.
WV L D. Luss,
AVTOELNEY AT LAW, „liontrose. Pa. Office oppo.
olbertlifFutbi . ll IroutfOlatTrzhe Court U .
Ant.
Ant. I. 186%—if
ABEL TERRELL,-
DIALZff in Drags, Patent Medicines, Chemicals
I,lrptort,Palittueolls,itye Vamishos, Win a
tibias, Groceries, Glass Ware, Wall and 'Window Pa,
per. Stone /arc, Ltrffpf.. NerOPClle, Machinery Oils.
Trusses, Guns,- Ammunition Koives, spectacles
lanutte4 Fancy Goods, Jewelry, Perth
being ‘017143 of this most muneroxia, atm:wive. and
valuable collections of MOM, in Fusquelionna Co.—
Established In 18413. [Montrose, Pa.
D. litc S'EAB'EE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW. ,office over the Store nf A.
Lathrop, In the Beek Sloth, Idoutrose, Pa. Nel'ls9
DR. W. L. RICHARDSON,
rritOclAN tr. !A ITRGEON, teeti•ers Yds professions
syryiees to the citizens of 3forarore end vicinity.—
Office at his reaidctice, on the cover eas l t of Sayre
pros. Foundry. I Ang.
DB. E. L. GARDMEES,
?lIT3ICIAN and SURGEON, Montrose, N. Give.
aspects' attention to dieenset of the Heart and
Lutlgs and all Santini diseases. Offen over W. 11.
Dams Boards at darnies Dove.' [Ant. ISI2.
BERMS de: NICHOLS,
M6iin,sl33 in Drngs_, Medicines. Chemicals. Dye
ar.,ds. paints. Oils; Varnish, Liquors, Suite,. Fancy
tr..csers. Patent Medicines. Pezfamery aud Ar
ticles. Or Preeceptions carefully compel:aided--
Pl:Lane Avenue, above henries Hotel. Montrose, Pa
A. B 13tTatts. - Amos Menai&
Au:. 1. 1869.
DR. E. L. lIANDRICK,
FECTSICIAN b SURGEON, respectfully tenders ht.
professional services to the citizen of Frlends*ilde
and vicinity. rgrOffice Inthe orrice of Dr. heet
Boards at J. Ilosford's. Aug. 1,1848.
HUNT BROTHERS,
SCRANTON, PA
Wholesale & Eetall Deviant°
HARDWARE, IRON, STEEL,
NAILS, SPIKES, SHOVELS,
BUILDER'S HARDWARE,
EINE RAIL. COUNTERSUNK Q T BAIL SPIKE:
RAILROAD d KEYING SUPPLISa.
CARRIAGE SPRINGS, AXLES, SKEINS A.Ve
BOXES BOLTS. Nl7Ts and WASHERS.
PLATED BANDS. MALLEABLE
IRON& HUBS. SPOKES.
PELLoRs.SEAT SPINDLES, BOWS. ex.
ANVILS, VICES, STOCKS and DIES. BELLOWS
o,,maitits, SLEDGES. FILES. he. Le.
=CRUM AND MILLSAWS, BFLTING. PACKING
TACKLE BLOCKS. PLASTER PARIS
CEMENT. aAra R GRINDSTONES.
YE ECU WINDO PA W GLASIR BANH S.LEV
SCALES. /WER& FINDINGS
'S
eraataa. March it. 1853. If
MOVED HUBBARD!
PAIIIOI/7Zi NOME lIISIIPACIIIBB t
rrantIGEABLE lipeed and Doable Drive W h ecL It
J holds the Gana Nest York State National Premium
Alsoithe Great Ohio National Premiums, held at Mans
SM. In ItsTO.
ThOdultrbOr Lt timPle.eampsot, removed entirely from
the arm wheels. and enclosed in a neat ease. In the
eentetrat the taattans. ettettnidte mating 11 from grit
and dust.
The opststlon can bo changed Instantly from s 'tdgb
speed to ones third slower. without stop, thus adapt.
Ins Own to had shoes and fight and burry gam
oos estansooomst= b portal. Not eano and one
Issususe, is is beyond doubt tbs Antonym
iiittdmetn world. and San ... .,nso &Pend Non tt4wOng
perfectly rellabla in every
RadrOse, SW a. 1871.--7 SAM BROS.
faro form
DT E. 5011YA9 GIIIMEKEY..
(Dinning the disaster at Pittston, McDermott,
the Engineer of the Breaker, stood at Ithi pad
of duty, hoisting the men Bum below, until his
hair was bunted from bis had, his clothing from
his body and the dames had ambled his engine.
Does history record a higher heroine?)
Ah 1 it Was grand!
In the midst of the fLamo and the smoke of the
Breaker,
There stood McDermott, the lever In band;
Calm at his duty, and swore by his Maker `
Never to leave, 'till the last man bad risen,
Out from the flre and the death of his prison.
Standing alone I
Bravely and sternly, unmoved at Ids duty;
Of the victims,. end round him the firelb=dsf
wild besillar.
No I not alone, far n form there stand by kink
Nerving his arm, that the flames might not try
him
Past his endurance—Gkes eel was nigh him,
Rafter and shell,
Frame-work and net-work, and brace of the
Breaker,
Crumbles and fell, and the breath of the Blakey,
Seemed as destruction! beneath Wm the hell
Of the pit panned; and around him the fire
billows swell—
Flamed from the depths of the perilous crater!
Still there he stood, while his courage rose
131312!=3
granter—
Standing alone with his God and Creator.
Scorched and distlflured, In suffering and glory,
He Is endeared
By the dread ordeal—made deatbloa In story—
Nobler than leader in battle or foray.
Scorn for the men who for =gain sold their
brothers !
Into the bed,
Where vapor and fire-damp disfigures and
smothers;
When all is said,
Ind the last prayer o'er the victim Is given.
Leave. the dark picture, and give thanks to
Heaven,
That one true man, all this foulness could leaven.
GrandfiuherNi Barn.
O don't you iemember our grandfather; barn,
Where our cousins and we met to play;
How we climbed on the beams and the scaffold
so high,
Or tumbled at will on the bay ;
How we sat in a row on the bundles of straw,
And riddles and witch stories told.
While the sunshine came through the cracks at
• the south,
And turned all the dust into gold?
flow we played hide and seek In each cranny
and nook,
Wbero a child could be stowed;
Then we made us a coach of a hogshead of rye,
And nn to - Boston" we rode/
And then we kept store, and sold barley and oats,
And corn by the bushel or bin ;
And straw for sisters to braid into hats,
And flax, for our mothers to spin.
Then we played we were biddies, and cackled
and crowed,
Till grandmother in taste came to see
If the wimsles were killing the old speckled hen,
Or whatever the mutter *Fight be:
How she patted our heads when she raw her
mistake,
And called us her sweet " chiekenAlears r
While a tear dimmed her eye as the picture re.
ranee .
The scenes of her oxen vanished years.
lioci- we tittered and swung, end played meeting
and school,
And Indian, and soldeir and year t
While up on the r,allers the swalkwre kept house,
Or willed through the soft summer atf.
How we longed to peep Into their crwif3l:l l
But they were too tar overhead;
So we wished we were giants, of Winged are
the birds,
And then we'd do wonders we said.
And don't you remember the racket we matte
When selling at auction the hay
And now we wound up the keekrrer leap
From the scaffold down faro the bay?
When we went Into supper our grandfather said
It he had not once been a boy,
He shtfuld thought that the Hessians were sack
log the town,
Or an earthquake had conic icrdittee7
Bow the ye have gone on since in gfandlior
ther's bunt
To play with our cousins we Midi
Our eyes hare grown dim and our lockr &fie
turned gray,
The golden, the brow ; mid the Jet.
Yet still in my heart there's an etefilreehdook,
Where childhood's steer nittnorietratay
And no' mask, to me has a charm that caVe •
Like the Volces of children at pfay.
I stand behind hire/bow chafte
My soft hand rests upon hit hair=
Hair whose silver is dearrer4o me
Than' all the gold of eatth could bet
And-elf eVes of . Mons
Look tenderly &VII
On John, ire Sohn.
The fire-light limps, and laughs' warms,
Wraps us both he its:nil* arms—
John, as be sits in the /mirth glow red;
Me with my hamfteg'hlrc old head—
Encircling ns both
Like a ring of troth;.
Me and xr John.
Ills form has lost [Measly iffaste4
Wrinkles rest on his kindly fitbee
llJahn)" , no longer Is smooth fad hike
For Urge has loft its autograph ettrep
Buts noblo prise
In ray lormg eyes,
Ia John; rr John. -
"My love," he says, and Una his bawd*
Browned by the sun of other Ism*
In tender clasp one mine to lay:•
" Bow long ago wasoat wahlingditre
I smiled through my lb*
And say, "Tears and years,
Ily4ohn, IiZAR John." •
We say no mom, the fire-light glowe;
Both of us ranee, on what—who knows!
My bend drop! down to mute mem—
DO throb army beat is a wit to Mem
With my witirte bees woe*
The heart end tbs booth
Of John, la Jolla.
AT PITTSTON.
'Neath him the moan
Blackened and scared,
Tears for the dead!
JOIEV.
ifONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAY JULY 5, 1871.
: I: ioallaurouo.
CAST OFF.
" Will I forgive you ? How dare you
ask it, Ida Rossiture ? Never, so help me
Heaven I"
There was a fierce glare in the blaek
eyes with which Winfield Grey steadily
regarded the handsome woman standing
pale and with compressed lips before him.
She had been for a solitary walk on the
sea shore, little dreaming she should meet
the man who, in her heart of hearts, was
the only enshrined idol.
She had seen him coming. when his
eyes, keen and bright though they were,
had not yet discerned her graceful figure
wending among the crags and elide of
the rocky, wild beach ; and, with a cry of
intense delight upon her lips, she hasten
ed to meet him.
She was a faultlessly beautiful woman,
this haughty heiress, Ida Rossiture, whose
dark, oriental eves had slain scores of
victims; whose lustrous masses of ebou
black hair bad driven acres of lovers
half crazy. She knew her power, and
how to use it; and before she had seen
twenty-two summers drop their load of
sweet scents, she had acquired the well
earned reputation of coqette.
But every soul has its mate ; and Ida
Rossiture had met the master of her
destiny; she loved. .Yet, so strange is the
inconiastency of woman, that, though
caught and wooed by Windfield Grey,
I him whom she so adored, her habit of
coquetry would not permit her to show
him a preference.
Not that she intended losing him; and
on the moonlight night when he told her
his love in terms so passionate that her
heart almost ached with the joy, when he
pleaded the sweet rumor that was going
the rounds of their engagement, she
gracefully warded him of, fully intend
ing to confess all on the morrow.
Alas, for what we will do "to-morrow!"
Many are the hopes that are crushed for
their waiting for the morrow ; the resolu
tions buried that "to-morrow" was to see
fulfilled!
And Ida Rossitnre, when the morning
dawned, learned that Winfield Grey had
left the shore that very morning while
she was dreaming of him.
She was too proud to inquire; too proud
to write; and when, hours later, she was
playfully taunted with slaying another
victim, and that Winfield Grey, she was
too reservedly hanghty to refute the asper
sion, and by a cold bow, gave credence to
the rumor.
All this, the one precious opisode of her
life, that hail been crowded into one bliss
ful fortnight, two years agone, came rush
ing over her us she saw 'Winfield Grey
walking quietly along, all unconscious of
her near proximity to him.
" Winfild. oh. Winfield. can it be possi
ble 1" She reached forth both her beauti
ful arms, a glorious light that he tumid
not have misunderstood, glowing iu her
dark eyes.
He started, raised his hat and would
have passed on.
" You are not angry with me, Mr. Grey?"
Her tones were pleading, but he looked
passionless as a statue.
"I have not forgotten our last inter
view, Miss Hossiture."
His cold, steely tones raised a fearful
anguish ifs her heart.
" Nor, L I have been waiting ever
since to tell you—to tell you how—l
loved you l"
The proud woman bad spoken at last;
and a beautiful blush overspread her face
as she looked almost wistfully at hint.
His own cheeks reddened, but he never
moved his eyes from her face.
" I am
_grieved the confession has come
too late, Miss Rossitvere. I care nothing
for you."
She stood like one petrified, her eyes
growing bright and wild.
" Not care for me I—not--care—for-r.
me ?" She repeated the words slowly, disk
tistinctly, an awful gray pallor the while
stealing across her face, her eyes riveted
on his handsome countenance.
"I do not, Miss Rossiture ; good mom-
bowediaud walked on
Ile bad only taken a dozen steps, whet 9
there came a clutch on his arm that al
most made him cry out. He turned to
see Ida again.
"Stop it Moment, I am mystifiie
may be crazy for all I know. But I must
have it from your lips again, those lips I
have dreamed scr often about! those lips
that told me the only news I ever cared
to hear."
She spate in a peculiar, dreamy way,
the* / before Grey could frame an answer,
her eyes filled with , tearitiand she laid her
hand on his arm.
"Winfield, my darling, thy darling,
don't my you have ceased to love me I why
don' you know I love you ? I worship
you.
He Wont' hate' fleet fees tfiate Vmhios,
bad not his heart throbbed at her con
fesdion, but he smiled coldly.
"Two years ago, Miss Rossiture, I sned
for that love ;• you cast it off. To-day you
offer it; I ftst tt ofl , Hemember as I do,
the shah, the bitter agony of that night,
I can never forget it or forgive it."
"
To cast me off, you cast me off I"
°That is rather a hard term, Miss, I do
not say so.- Please be Kt podustnexcuse
me."
alio; rm I Onee More ( Winfield, for
give me ; dr do forgive me, will yen not P
can't live without yoliv love Win*UP
She clasped her hands pleadingly, and
rested them• on his arnv. A moment he
gazed into' her beautifu I f stormy face; then
with a vein, almost scornful turn of the
lip, sivokee
"Will I forgive lon ? hoW dare you' ask
it, Ida &ashore I -Never, so help me
Heaven 1"
It was an awftyl blow to the proud wo
man, whose ein was lung too well, and
as Winfield , Grey lengt hened the distance
between them, a look of most pitiful agony
coati:dm& he? features.
Gradually his reeeding figure grew
smaller w 6 smaller ; and as be turned un
angle that hid him, there swept over her
form a perfect gust of emotion:
Unutterable &pair war written ort
averry lineament, and irr the words oho
moa
* ned, lurked a life-time of vier.
••,•• 4r • •
The early Juno sunshine came in a
golden quiver all over the pink and white
carpet that covered the floor of Marian
Thorne's dressing room, and - while it
touched with light fingers the rare. statu
ary, the costly toilette ornaments, it ling
ered longest and most loving on the slight
graceful figure that stood before the dress
ing mirror.
She was a golden haired girl, this dainty
Marian Thorne, with eyes the very shade
of purple violets; Shadowy' serene eyes,
that seemed ever looking out into some
misty, uncertain cloudland.
Now she was looking at herself, arrayed
in a costly robe of creamy white satin,
where fell cloud on cloud of shimmering
lace; where gleamed pure pearls, and soft
white kids.
" What, Marian, surely you are not
growing vain enough to try on your wed
ding dress to note the effect?"
Marian laughed as the young girl held
up her hands in 'amazement.
"Do you consider this vanity? If you
do, I must plead guilty. I wondered how
would look as a bride, so I put on the
robes."
"As if you could not have waited till
to-morrow noon. Well, I guess Mr. Grey
will think you are an angel just floated
down. Oh, Marian chere, you are fault
less—perfect."
Marian smiled and turned again to the
beautiful reflection.
"I think my dress is very becoming,
and I am pleased for Winfield's sake.
And yet, with all the rapid preparations
progressing, you can't tell the gloom that
comes over my spirit at times—as if some
hidden vial of wrath was about to be
poured upon me.
Marian's eyes were gazing away, away
off, as if seeking to wrest the secrets from
her future.
Gracie Rose gave a little scream.
"Oh, yon superstitious girl you—and
yet, Marian, I have heard it was a bad
omen to try on a complete wedding suit.
And here you are, nothing wanting, even
the kids, and the slippers, and the veil
and all."
Marian smiled and shook her head
"Nonsense, Gracie. Yet to comfort
von, please notice I have not on the
wreath."
The young girl laughed joyously.
" Good ; there's hope yet, then. Hark
there comes Mr. Grey, now shall I send
him np ?"
" Yes, I'd like his opinion."
A moment later, and Winfield Grey
stood beside her.
My beautiful darling 1 almost my 'pride!
almost my darling wife I"
He kissed her fondly,' then stepped back
to regard her toilette.
" Perfect, lift le Marian. Pure as angel's
raiment, but none too fair for yon,darhng.
If you only were a little less serious."
Ho laughed as he spoke, but the young
sis.l%.. Are.wr
" I have such a strange feeling, Win
field. Night after night I dream of a
barren seashore where are rocks and crags
over which I am constantly fleeing to find
yon. And there is a tall, dark, magnifi
cent woman who haunts my dreams; with
eyes like a very demoness, that seems
scorching my heart out of my body.
Then when I awaken I am so exhausted
that the fright follows me half the &ay."
Her wistful blue eyes were lifted to his
face, but she had noticed the pallor that
shifted amiss the Fond, handsome feat
ures as she mentioned the "tall, dark,
magnificent" woman.
He laughed, and smoothed her light
curls away from her forehead.
"If I could but target the sensation
the vision causes."
" Perhaps you don't love me, Marian?"
ho said, gravely.
"Oh, Winfield, you know I do; please
don't say so, you hurt me."
He kissed her sweet quivering month,
just as Gracie returned to assist Marian
to remove her bridal robes.
" We'll excuse on now, Mr. Grey," she
said merrily. "1 ll bring Marian down
presently, in a more hngable form."
Ile threw the pretty bridemaiti a kiss,
and went whistling down stairs, happy,
and forgetful of the "tall, dark, magnifi
cent woman."
" I'll take them off, Gracie," 1161 Mari
an, as his, her betrothed's steps' sounded
further away; "but, if I spoke the truth
from my heart, I should say I think I'll
never put them on again."
Gracie glanced in unappreciating onVi
osity at the bride elect.
" You , talk so, and still are sure you
love Mr. Grey ?"
A glorious light came into her blue
eyes.
" Love him, Gentle? You never can
know how much."
. .
"Then. there's no danger that yon won't
wear this in old' Trinity to-morrow at
midda * y," returned matter-of-fact Gracie.
• •• • • • • •
It was a new grave, over which the
flowers of but seven weeks had bloomed ;
at its head stood a costly tombstone, and
a wreath of immortelles was twined about
it.
On its snowy-white surface were carved
letters that were unmistakably precious to
fund hearts . ; and the letters ran thus—
" Sacred to WINPtELD GREY,
aged 28."
On the high, sweet-scented turf, remelt
in pitiful abandon, a young, fair-haired
girl, whose black robes swept the spot
whore her darling lay at rest.
She did nut mono or cry, but unspoken
aeon" was making her slender frame quiv
er with deepest emotion'?
A little day, standing defiant and
stormy, was a noble, commanding woman,
her sable garments trailing to the very
sides of Winfield. Grey's grave.
Her hard bright pyostvere watching the
fragile form that Was laming the sod so
passiodately, all unconscious' of the pres
ence of any one, till her ern] Dame, spoken
in clear, musical tones startled her.
" Marian Thorne :"
She sprang to her feet, and gazed at the
intruder?
"I spoke to you Marian Thorne, be
cause I have aright to do so. Yon loved
him, but not so much as I did—there
don't scream, for I am telling the truth.
I worshipped him- he bated me. Ton
loved him; he worshlpped you: That's
all the difference. Yon were to be hilt
wife ; I was cast cast 4:41! Oh, those
words will ring in my ears through eter
nity r'
Marian sank to the ground, covering
her face with her hands, white, stern and
passionless.
Ida Rossitnre continued.
"The day he deserted rue, that day I
knew a vengeance would follow him. I
knew not what it would be; but when the
papers told me he was dead, had died of
heart disease on the wedding morn, I felt
'twee only just,. He had crushed my heart
and I had to live, just as you live, to miff .r
till the end. He cared not for the sacri
fice I made to win him, and now lying
cold and still under the summer daisies,
he knows not the fearful sacrifice von have
been compelled to endure in giving him
up.
With a reverential tenderness she bent
over Winfield Grey's grave and kissed the
weeping, widowed bride; then, departed
as she came, silently, mysteriously, leavink
alone, in the early twilight, the stricken
girl to bear alone her burden of sorrow.
The Art of Living Well.
A Georgian, who professes to be 9G years
of age, and a carpenter by trade, has been
moved to give his own method of preserv
ing health. He says:
" I get up about five in the morning,
drink about six or eight drinks of good,
solid corn whiskey by about eight o'clock.
By that time I have picked off and dress
ed about five hundred fret c.f plank, more
or less, then take breakfast.
"My breakfast is generally a smothered
chicken and a stewed catfish or two or
three trout; sometimes two or three shad
with beefsteak and ham and fried eggs,
with two or three dozen boiled eggs, fif
teen or twenty butter-cakes, with a little
coffee or tea--say about six or eight cups
—just as I feel about the number of caps.
I then joint, tongue and groove the plank.
By about one o'clock I am ready for put
ting up or down, at which time I dine.
"My dinner is not always the same;
but generally I take about three or four
quarts of turtle or pea soup . , a small baked
pig or a roasted goose, sometimes a quar
ter of a lamb or kid, greens, beans, peas,
onions, eschalots. potatoes, cabbage, and
other like vegetables, by which time I
have drunk about fifteen or twenty drinks
of old, solid corn whiskey. After dinner
I put up or down my plank, as the case
may be; take a few drinks during the
time, say about twelve or fourteen.
"I then take the last meal, which is
generally called tea; don't use any meat;
drink about six quarts of good buttermilk ;
with about one and a half or two pounds
of light bread; take about four drinks to
hold it steady, lay down about eight, and
rest better than if I had crowded my
stomach. I then rest well, dream pleas
ant dreams, and rise early again.
"This has been my mode of living
through life. I am stout and active;
,sigh from two hundred and sixty to two
hundred and seventy-five pounds; health
fine. My head is as black as a gander's
back. lam not very extravagant in using
tobacco; onl) nee '.bunt two or three
plugs a day, say one and a half pounds;
smoke some and chew the balance—vat'
that I like the weed; use it only to keep
my flesh down."
The Way They Do It.
How the Arab ladies perfume them
selves is thus described by Sir Samuel Ba
ker in his work on the Nile:
In the floor of the hut or tent, as it
may chance to be, a small hole is evacu
ated sufficiently large to contain a cham
paigne bottle. A fire of- charcoal, or
simply glowing embers, is made within
the hole, into which the woman about to
be scented throws a handful of drugs.—
She then takes off the clothes or robe
which forms her dress and crouches naked
over the fumes, while she arranges her
robe to fall as a mantle from her neck to
the ground like a tent. She now begins
to perspire freely in the hot air bath, and
the pores of the skin being open and most,
the volatile oil from the smoke of the
burning perfumes is immediately absorb
ed. By the time the fire has expired the
scenting process is completed, and both
her person and her robe are redolent of
incense, with which they are so thorough
ly impregnated that I have frequently
smelt a party of women strongly at full a
hundred yards' distance, when the wind
has been blowing from that direction.—
This scent, which is supposed to be very
' attractive to gentlemen,- is composed of
ginger, cloves, cinnamon, frankincense
and myrrh, a species of sea weed brought
from
.the Red Sea, and lastly the horny
disc which covers the aperture when the
shellfish withdriadts itself fton't the shelL
The proportions of the ingredients in its
mixture are according to taste.
The Crust dr the Earth.
If you bury a thermometer fifty feet be
low the of the earth, the mercury
will remain at the same point the year
round, in winter and in summer, showing
that the influence of the sun does not
reach below that depth. If we carry the
thermometer fifty feet loiver, the mercury
will rise one degree, and will rise in the
same ratio for every fifty feet we go down.
It can be easily calculated at what die
taupe known substances melt. This would
not exceed fifty miles, It will thus be seen
that the crust—or solid part—of the earth
is exceedingly thin; in' propoition to the
diameter; not so thick as an egg shell, in
proportion to the size of - the egg. With
a crust so thin, constantly cooling, it is
not strange the bed of oceans should be
elevated in a single day, and whole cities
have been stink in the sante space of time.
The, side of a volcanic mountain once
broke•Way;and livid masses Hinted out,
forming a river twelve rides wide, which,
in its ctairse, melted' down six Mils COO
feet high, filling up valleys 600 feet deep.
and spreading over a surface of 1,100
squaltridlea—Dr. Roynlou:
—h city miss, newly installed LW the
wife of a farmer, was one day called upon
by Is treighbof of the same profession,
who, 1w the absence of her husband; asked
her for theloau of his plow for a short
time.. 'I aba sure you• would be • accom'
modated,' was the' reply, if Mr. Stone was
at home.— . l do not know though, where
he keeps his plow; but,' she added, evi
dhAtly Zealous to server, 'there is the -cart
in the yard; couldn't you plow with that
till 10. Stone gets back 3'
VOLUME XXVIII, - DUMBER. 27.
Wheat*, Come Booms.
There is an old legend that there were
in the Garden of Eden no roses but white
ones, until Eve tasted of the forbidden
fruit. When the roses saw her do this,
they blushed for shame, in every shade,
from the faintest damask to burning red;
and ever since there have been all the
lively tints that we see.
A different story, however, is told, which,
denies that there were ever any roses at
all in the world until, on a certain time,
at Bethlehem. there was a beautiful young
girl who was charged with a 'crime, anti
sentenced to be burned to death. They
led her into a • field, and piled fagots
around her and set them on fire. But she
being innocent, prayed while they were
burning that some wonderful thing might
take place to show that she was innocent.
And this is what happened ; All the fag
ots which were on fire were changed into
bushes full of red roses, and those that
had not kindled turned into white ones,
also full of flowers. "And these," says an
ancient writer, "were the first rose-trees
and roses, both red and white, that ever
man saw." And the country where this
was done abounds with them to this day.
Another story accounts for the variega
ted kinds. Once there were thirty years
of miserable civil war in England, grow
ing out of a quarrel between the two fam
ilies of York and Lancaster about the
right to the throne. It was a fierce and
cruel contest, during which some of the
best blood in the country was shed, and
noble families became extinct. The
whole nation was divided, taking part
with one or the other. Each party had a
symbol to be known by. The house of
Lancaster chose a red one, which was
worn by all its adherents; upon which,
that of York took a white one.,. So fa
mous did these emblems become that the
war was known all over Europe as the
"War of the Hoses." The strife ended at
last by a marriage between a son and
daughter of the rival amines.. And now
comes the marvellous part of the story;
which is that, alter that, red and white I
roses appeared growing on the same bush.
Sometimes they were almost pare white
or unmixed red, but usually striped, mot
tled, or speckled in various and beantifql
ways. And a rose, quite common in old
: fashioned hardens, has been called to thit
day the "I ork and Lancaster rose."
If we choose to believe the above, we
can account for all the varieties of roses
known—because gardeners have the art
to change greatly Vie shades of a single
color—all except kellow ones. Can any
body tell us where these comes from ? If
so, we shall know also the origin of all the
salmon and pale-buff tints.
Someitody—who is a very con venint au
thority—boldly declares that they owe
their golden hue to no mystery, no mira
cle, but to an experiment. No legend tra
ces the unfolding of the first yellow rose;
but an ingenious gardner, crafted a white
rose upon a barberry bush This does not
sound so grand as an old tradition: but
my readers can find out if it is true. They
are too late by hundreds of years for the
first stories, but not for the last. The
barberry has clusters of little yellow-rose
shaped flowers, and the root and wood are
dyed so deep with yellow, that they could
transfuse a stream of golden sap into the
scion. It is true ? Who know ?
Ladies Handwriting
We continually see thiVertisern'ents of
ladies who can write a good hand, and
wish for work in copying manuscripts.
One lady's "good hand' is all peaks 'and
angels; another's all scrawling dashes;
while the sins of nndottcd i's and uncross
ed t's are lep on ; not to speak of errors ,
in spelling, by no means unfreqnent.
The luckiess employer is driven to dis
truction by the labor of deciphering to
which' is sometimes added the labor of
correction; and lie finally throws down_ -
the ill-done work, with a pardonable sneer
at the incapacity of women for anything
but dress. Of course, she gets no further
work from him. Now to write an ugly
hand may be called a misfortune, if you
will; but to write an illegible hand is a
crime against society. Every one who
chooses can form each letter distinctly,
can make a difference between an n and
an, between e and c; can dot is and
cross a Therefore, no educated woman
who wis'ies for employment as an amanu
ensis or copyist can be excused for writ
ing badly. She ought to be able to write
letters and copy manuscripts clearly and
legibly; if she cannot, she liar only her
self to blame. To those who• feel their
deficiency and wish Ea imprOte here are a
few hints. Write two or three copies
every day in a large hand. Look st your
copy upside down, when the turns of the
letters should appear as well shaped as
they did whet you • looked at them the
right way. Thus, let the letters nn, when
turned upside down, make a good clear
mi, only wanting the addition of the dot
to that i. Never leave an ito be dotted
or at to be crossed till von have flni4led
the line or sentence. hot your i's and
cross your is when yon- finish the word,
at latest. Remember that the lines of
legibility in writing, as of beauty in na
ture, are all curved. Angular writing is
never pretty, seldom • legible. Never in
dulge in making tails to g's, q's, re, or
over heads to l's t's, and similar letters,
running them info the upper and under '
line. Indulge not in turns, curls, or
flourishes of any kind. Stmly . to make
your . writing compact Withont being
cramped; free, without stragenge To
write rather upright than otherwise con
tributes to the union of compactness and
freedom: Never imitate anothera per
son's writing under the idea; that it is
prettier than your own. Many a girl has
spoiled a good handetrifing ia . this way.
Let your" hentkritinglifork itself Item
free, bole copy-writmg' and let it be
thoroughly your ovfn: Cultivate the'fbw
er of writing, and quickly, beante it will
probably be a Weerssity to yoli—certainly
an adraritage. lout esehew" hurry, Legi
bility 'Wrist never be sacrificed, to speed.—
[Victoria Magazine. ,
At the dinner of an Irish• association
not long since the following toast was
given: "Here's to the President of the
society, Patrick O'llafferty, and mirk*
live to eat the chicken that acystobee over
his gave.!'
IFashloisable Mlsel7l.
A few years ago one of the American
magazines published a pleasant paper tilt 4
tailing the advantages of not belonging
to the respectable classes. The writer
meant thereby, not that it was disfetonfa
ble, but that he was not "fashioriable.." He
had no aesnmed dignity to support. No
body knew him, and if ho chose to. stop
on the street to listen to a bond-organ,
or watch the antics of a monkey, or to
buy peanuts and eat them as he walked
along, he did not compromise his dignity.
He was not annoyed by frbtibletottie ye
strictions on his personal liberty. was
ho Matter whether the_polish was on his
boots or whether his hat Was brushed,
On occasion, on a hot day, he could take
his coat over his arm, of on a cold - day,
wrap himself up ire horse blanket:
While, perhaps, the "hugest liberty" is
not desirable, and people on prominade-'
with ladies must consent the proprieties,
there is a fr"edom trot( enjoyable from
fashion's foolish and - unreasonable eon.;
strnint. Many Occupations put fall dims
and formality out of the quastion ; and
they are occupations, too, amongthemust
useful and respectable; There is one a&
vantage which the possessors do not !Idly
appreciate, and which the votaries of fash
ion might well envy. The man attired
according to his bnsiness feat ease and
independence. The fashionable individ4
nal—or person who would be so considero
ed—is not at ease, and dare not do as ha
pleases. He is dreSsed to please others/
Not only is the matter of dress to inala
and female fashionables a thing of filoti
brit in other respects they are exposed to
hardships which would call for the &Ana
tion of a new society for their relief, if
they trete stub poor. folk.
A London journal, the "Pall Mall Gets
zelle," is eloirent upon the sufferings
caused by a "Drawing-room" at Bucking
ham Paruce. Hundreds of Indio sat in
low evening dresses in their carriages for
over an hour, waiting admission in theif
turn. The artenfoon was bitterly cold,
and the coachmen and footmen, without
great coats, in knee breeches and silk
stockings, shivered eten mefelfmn the la
dies. Admitted to the'palace, the victims
of fashions -railed "in' pens" for another
half hour, then paraded before Majesty,
and waited another before they Cbuld get
away. We can hardly wonder , that 801d0
individuals among the "nobility and gely ,
try," having . had previous experierita
these receptions, regretted and staidawny.
This is an extreme Case; and Cannot be
repeated here, &cease not even theingen
nity of our importers of foreign follies=
find the opportunity to introduce it. But
there are other and SIMI iliar mteltieswhielt
"fashion" does impose upon thosewho are
willing to snbanit. There are'l plenty of
customs, demanded by the caprice of the
day, the following of which, .entails dug*
comfort if not absolttte sneering. . There ,
is no need to particularize . ; since every
body's observation can snpfdy instances.
The experience of most people include
the doing of things which they would
much rather not do, and the omission of
things they would like, simply because
“fashion" dein:lnds, or fashion disapproves.
Positive discomfort, unnecessary expense,
absurd costumes, irrational boars, ard
personal subserviency, all these, and
"many more distressibles" afflict our fiusha
ionable republicans. They are the .dam
in kind as the inconveniences which tho
Pall Mall Caielte laments, in the hard
case of the ladies "received" at Bucking
ham Palace. Sensible people make short
work of such disagreeables; and dare to
themselves whatever the "Fulgoni' may
be, or they so modify the "made" in their
own case as to alleviate its Weight, t end
dispense with its eitravaguiet.—Ledger.
Being Drowned:
Some extraordinary mentalpherioniena
occur in drowning< As soon' as respires
tion is suspended, by the drawing of wa
ter into the ftings, consciotrsness is imme
diately extingbished. Mimi ail ,that can
he gathered in regard to the action of the ,
heart, that ,organ probably acts, feebly, a
considerable tuTee after the function of
respiration is suspended. By its muscu
lar force arterial blood isdrivett onwardly
to the head faster tba'n fheY/eiris bring it
back, and consegneritly the mind is plung
ed, as it were, into a profound sleep; far
loss of toitaiofttres.s reaults - frotet ti end:
den appoplexy induced by an extra aced
mutation of blood- in the delicate - texture
of the brain'.
Whew tbb pulkatiodS or. the htert stop,
their. the tenison oil the muscles MU;
and if no efforts at reenscitatiod are made,
vital heat diretinishes gradnally, and the
change is an etttbstori of compressed
gasses in , the cavities of the body, due to
the first processes of Chemical decompixt•
tion. If the body, hoWeVer, is recovered
immediately, evch though respiration end
circnlatibn are quiescent, it is possible to
re-establish the movelbent of the tuns
by artificial inflation of. the lutiga,
continued for a long While. The
trial is not always successful, but so en
conraging that the prospect demands the'
utmost perseverance:-
With the revived action of the
the moment the lungs begin to take in
oxygen from thew forced npon them,
life begins to - reed& So it it admitted by,
physiological philosophers that the seal
is won back, if it had gone, in the act of
restoration; or else' it is morally certain
its departure at death is a gratbial Imam,
which they be interrupted, and rempris
oned in the brairr bj htimatt effort and
skill.
Hot' s tent Wes riscErne..-4 iti
dy residing in a Western City returned
home one evening and heard some noise'
in the room usually,occupied by herself
and
_her liusband. The door being closed
she was reduced to the keyhole, to whiell
place she applied her eye.. She saw the
figure of a Woman; standing by her side
was thebsband of ajealonewilo actually
engaged in adjusting a shawl on the
shoulders of' thelntrading female. Tak
ing a shot gnu she forted open'the door
and shot the woman in tliik back. The
husband .screamed the will's fainted. On
her return to conseinustessnnituldeXpikr
nations folloWed. The body of the woman
shot was brought in and - it was seen to be
a dummy.' The huabaud . is * dry
merchant, and bad brought' the •
inghome to repair the damage it had , •
ed by exposure.. - -