. . .. . . . . . . . . . . . DEMOCRAT. ... „. ... THE ~ . _, • • • . . . . ..., : oN T RosE . •• .., E.B. HAWLEY, Proprietor. Outdo, DR. W. W. SMITB, trevnirr. Rooms at his &Milan. next door east of the Republican printing omen. Wilco hours from 9a. at. ~. to r. Montrose, Mai ft, ttni••4l • TUE BAUEIER—Hat Ha! Win Charley Morrie Is the barber, who ean share your lace to order; Cuts brown, blade and grtszley hair, hia ' °Mee, Just op Stairs. There you will Ind him, are - 'Mere's atom, below MegenMes—Jast one door. Montrose, lino 4,1821.—tf C. MORRIS. ' J. B. de A. 11. IffleCOLLll3l, ATrOLINETA AT /AY over the Bank, Montreoe re. Montane,May 0. MM. tf DR. D. A..LATROP. Efai opened an office, at the loot of Chestont street. near the Catholic Church, where he can be consulted at all times. 'Montrose, April SG, MI. ly - CROSSIION & BALDWIN, ATTOIINICTS AT LAW.-00ce over the store of Wm J. Mulford, on Public Avenue, Montrose Ps. W. A. Cuossume. D. L. Minim; Moutroee, Mirth I,IEII. V. J. D. VAIL, RoxsorarmePtrreectate LID Shamans., Hu permanently located htmeclr In Montrose, Pa., where he will ptompt ly attend to all calls to hie prormalon with which he may he scored. Ware and reeldenee west of the Caul Boas; nem Pitcl) & Waltaon'e office. Monitore, Febraary 1811. LAW OFFICE" Prren WATSON, Attorneys at Law, at the old office of Bentley Montroee, T. TISCH. Van. It, 'n.( cn LEW. N. STODDAIIII, Dealer in Boole and Shim*, flats and Caps. Leather and Findings, 'fain Street. Ist door below Boyd's Store. Work made to order. and repairing done neatly. .31outrose. Jan. 1,18111. LITTLES do BLAILJESLEE, Attorneys and Connseliors nt Lnw. Office the one heretofore occupied by R. R. & 0. P. Little. on Main street, Montrose, Pa. tAprillo. 1.. LITTLIL GEO. P. LITTLE. IL L. ELAKELILEIL D. Derktsgin. C. C. Facture, W. n. 'Wean. a[cKKENZIE., FAUROT & CO. Dealers in Dry Goods, Clothing, Ladles and Misses ants Shoes. also., agents for the great American Tea and Coffee Company. [Montrose, Pa., ap. 1,470, LEWIS KNOLL, SHAVING AND HAIR DRESSING. Shop in the tow Postaitice buildine, where he will be found ready to attend all who may want anything to his line. Montrose, Pa. Oct. 13, ISM 0. M. lIIAWI.F.Y. DEALER in DRY GOODS, GROCERIES, CROCKERY flardwere. lints, Ceps, Boots. Shoes, Ready Made Cloth lag, Paints, Oils, etc., New Milford, Pa, [Sept. 8, 'GB. DR, S. W. DAYTON, PUTS'CIA'S & • SIIIGEON, tender tits services to the citirens of Great Rend and vicinity. Oifes at tits residence. opposite Barnum /louse, scud tilkire. Sept. tf A. 0. WARREN, ATTORNEY A, LAW. Bennty,l3sek Pay. Pension and Execs nn Claims attended to. Ofnee a . oor below Boyd's Store, blontrove.Pa. [An. 1.'69 M. C. SUTTON, 'Auctioneer, and Insurance Agent, aul G9tf Frlendsville, Pa. C. S. GILBEUT, .ES.Niaticorte,cor. Great. Bend, Pa augt Mt( !tit[ ELT, 17. es. .A.ris.crticsaaor. Auk, 1, ISI9. Address, Brooklyn, Pa JOHN GROVES, FASTIIONABLE T. 1.12 9R„ Montrose. Pa. Shnp over Chandler's Store. All orders tilled In dent-rate style. ceiling dune on short notice, and warranted to tit. . w. w. sums, CABINET AND CRAM MANUFACTURERS.—too of Dahl street. Mentrore, Pa. jam. 1. DOM 11. lIVIIUITT, DgAi.sll in Staple and Fancy Dry Goods. Cream. Hardware, fron,Stoees,Dru Qs, Offs,and Paints Boots►nd Shoes, Bar & Caps. Furs, Buffalo Robes Groeeriea,Pro•tstons. Bow Hiltotd. Ps. 08. E. P. HIVES, liss penasttentri !dented at rrlendsvltte ler the par ,pose al practicing medicine and stozery la all Its hranches. Ile may be found at the Jackson 110aset. -Office boars from Ba. m., p. m. doriendsville, Pa., Aug, 1. 1869. T 0V D & .0111.01IVN, , Alia • , / Jim 1:19 , J.1.040R ACSSiTS. A C business attended to promptly, on fate Mars. Older Int door north of • Montrose Llotel, •• west side e XarbileAsenne, Montrose, Pa. [Aug.1,1369. itrieillas &Mom), - theittees L. &soya. VOL D, LUSlity AiTORNIZtrLAW, Montrose. Ps. Office oppo. -altyAbliViit - tkrizer, ricathe Come Mum 41.Erg...1,1801—tt ABEL TIIBRMM, DSALI3B to Drugs, Patent bledhAnes, Mended' Liquors. Paints, 011a,Dye thulfs. Varnlsbes, Win •.‘ plams, Orocerlet, Glass Ware, Wail send Window Pa, ppeerr,,Stone-Hire, Lamps, Emswese f Machinery Gila. Guns, Anturunidow, flattev. Spectacles linraitoripaney Goods, Jewelry. Perth ry, &e_— being tone of the most numerous, extensive, and valuable collo:11ms of Goods to Susquehanna Co.— Bstabllshed In. MIS. [ifcrourosic,- !V. 0. W. SEAULE, ATTOILTET AT LA.w. ofilee over the Store of A. Lathrop, to the Drltk Sloth. Montrose, Pa. DAM BICTIARDSWifi PnYSIcLIB & itintigEON, tenders his professions services to the citizens of Montrose end vicinity.— °Mee at his residence, on the corner din of Sayre & Thos. Foundry. (Ann. I, ISM. DR. E. C. GFARDNIgIi, PIitSICIAN and strnaEtrs. 31ontrofe, Pa.. Give. especial attention to .41feezmea of the Heart and Lange and all Bargical difieneerr. °Mee over W. B. ,Deana Boards at Seatie's Hotel. [Aug. 1. 1669. BIJUNS & NICHOLS, Dltti.4ll2 In Drnra, Medicines, Cheminsla, Dye- Paints, Oil*, Varnlah, Llgticrrir f Spices. Piney str.,..ues, Patent Medicines, Perfumery seer To ltec Ar. Melee. Presaiptiona caretally compounded.— tonne Avenue, above henries Motel. Montreve, Ps 4. B. Monza, - ' Mon oms. UT. 1, 1109. OIL E. L. HANDnics, rarsici&N £ SURGEON; resptbeldally tenders -61, professional services to the citizen of Friendsville stakvidnity. pa Dr• °Mee Lathe Mike of Dr. Lent boards at I. Dosford's. dog. I,IM. RUNT BROTHERS, SCRANTON. PA. . • . , • Wbotesale & Retail DAelerria HARDWARE, IRON, STEEL, .' NAILS, SPIKES, SHOVELS, BUILDER'S HARDWARE, AiLYZ Sta k c o ori: isaut v - A 6 V p ßirdpLrao dianrAes srßrsos. Arm, SKEINS dIV7 FOX : . L B A TED B A N DS . MA ie L d L XWAASBLELSTIId, _ _MONA HUBS. SPOKES. - 11FiLtdaTd. SEAT ffPINDL.B4 DOM de. manta. wags, wrocKs and IhEB. BELLOWS. HAXAAERS- • i 11.8.2 ,11 :AND LOCKS.WBIATiNOP WEING S PLASTER PARIS ..CRI(ENT,JIII,IR & ORINDSTONRS. • mugs= WINDOW OLASS.LBATFIRRaniortia • FAIRBANICR SCALAR. . itllldon. Ruch 24. DS& 11 impßovo „ :01101ARD :,,t,,PUZMZIS aoxa MAAIMACITaIt I CRILSORABLZ Speed and Donnie Drive WheeL it holds the Geist New YoritStata Ration/ Ptinslast 4editbe Great Onto National Premiums, held @Mat held, in line. • ..late the Penneybratds,- Warylend ad Vizgltda Sias Prealanis 1 The mring eltente.conspect, restored ended, how the 41' "heels. and enclosed Ina not awe, in the centre d the inaeldite, effednally seeming teem geti saildast. ?be - operation an be etreaged Instantly from a edith loped to one it third slower. without Map. thee eilept iiiritieu 'to bad Owe end light and bow, One cutting ennendas Is perfect. Bo braF 144 one paw, laafe, :4011, A ie beyond dada the etunAt aladdaein the +od d. antra can upon perfectly reliable In every nerticelay.depend it. 64Tite1it04. Pao. 'toner. The 'Philosopher and MI Daughter. The following charming poem, which has the merit of combining " instruction, and amuse ment," and of showing the estimation which usually attends learning, was written by Shirely Brooks, and appeared nineteen years ever his Initials in the filnistmt6l London Nem:— A sound came booming through the air— " What is that sound r quoth L My blue eyed pet, with golden halt, Made answer, presently " Papa, you bow it very well-- That sound—it was Saint Pancras bell " My own Louisa, put down the cat, And come and stand by me; Tm sad to hear you talk like that Where's your philosophy That sound--attend to what I tell— That sound was not Saint Pancras ball " Sound Is the name the sage selects For the concluding term • Of a long series of effects, Of which that blow's the germ. The following brief analysis Shows the Interpolation, 311531 "The blow which, when the clapper slips, Falls on your friend, the bell, Changes its circle to ellipse (A. word you'd better spell.) And then comes elasticity, Restoring what it used to be. Nay, making it a. little more, The circle shifts about. As much as it shrunk In before; The bell, you see, swells out, V. And so a new ellipse is made, (You are not attending, Pm aftuid), "This change of form disturbs the air, Which in its turn behaves In like elastic fashion there, Creating waves on waves; Which press each other onward, dear, Until the utmost finds your ear. " Within the ear the surgeons find A tympanum, or drum, Which has a little bone behind— Ma&mut, It's called by some; Thom not proud of Latin grammar, Humbly translate it as the !Easterner. " The waves vibrations this transmits On this, the Incas bone, (Incas means anvil, which it hits,) And this transient the tone To the small as orbiculare, The tiniest bone that people carry " The daps next—tfiename recalls A stirrup's font, my' daughter-- Joins three half circular canals, Each filled with limpid water; Their curious lining, you'll observe, Made of the auditory nerve, " This vibrates next—and then we find The mystic work is crowned ; For then my daughter's gentle mind • First recognizes sound. Bee what a host of causes swell To make up what you call the 'bell." Awhile she paused, my bright Louise, And pondered on the ease; Then, settling that be meant to tease, She slapped her father's face. "You bad old man, to sit and tell Such gibbergosh about a bell r I'm Growing . Old, ST JOIIN G. SAXE. My days pass pleasantly away, My nights are blessed with sweetest sleep, I feel no symptoms of decay, I have no cause to mourn or weep; My foes arc Impotent and thy, My friends are neither false nor cold ; And yet of late I often sigh— Pm growing old I My growing talk of olden times, My growing thirst for early news, My growing apathy to rhymes. My growing love of easy shoes, My growing hate of crowds and none, My growing fear of catching cold, Ah tell me, in the plainest yoice— I'm growing old I I'm growing fonder of my staff, Fm growing dimmerin my eyes, Fm growing abater in my laugh, Fm rowing deeper in my sighs, rm growingcareless In my dress, I'm growing frugal of my gold, Fm growing wtse e rm growing—yes— I'm growing old I reef it iW dif dinner% taste, I see it in my changing hair. I see it in my growing waist. see it in my greeting heir A thousand hints-prod:dm fhb tfulbe As plain-as truth was ever told, That even• in my vaunted yOutir--= I'm growing old ! Ab me t my very-laurels breather The tale in my reluctant ears; And every boon the hours bequeath But makes me debtor to the years E'en Hatterrahoneyed words declarp The secret she would fain withhold, had tell me in "Bow young you are IP rm grtreting old Timthiarfot the years whose rapid flight My sortibef mans too gladly sings: Thankefor the gleams of golden light That tint the darkness of their wings; The light that henna Uteri out the sky, Those heavenly mansions to enfold, There aU are bin:t r end:none sisal sigh riaglnftqrold t guvitito and Witiciaue —No time. is mom sluggish than a clock that don't run. —"Tell that man to take off his hat in court," said a judge, the other morning, to an or . The offender, who turned out to be s lady, wearing the fashionable Tailor lst, indignantly exclaimed, "I'm no man, sir!" "Then," said his honor, "tam no judge." --Savnnah papera complain of pick pekoe who rob ladies' pockets " as clean as & developer ever swept a Stated treasu ry." The "developer" is the. sort of a person who goes down South to "dftel ?pe the resources of the country" by pick ing up any stray tans or anything the that may happen to lay around boss. MONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAY my 19, 1871. pliocellantotto. AN AMERICAN STORY. A little while ago, looking through an old long-disused desk, I found a photo graph, the very existence of which I had forgotten. Those for whom it was taken, those whose hands placed it where it lay, are gone; it has no value any longer, ex cept for the memories that linger about it. One of these days it will be burned, and no one will have any loss, unless perhaps the Genius of Photography may bethink herself of weeping over one of her earliest and rudest productions. In the meantime I keep it, rough as it is; and, it has re minded me not only of a life which is ended, with all its loves, joys and sorrows, in obscurity and silence, but also of a romance belonging neither to itself nor to me, bat to the story of the wandering artist who took it. Far away in the west of Canada, the borders of our little town were washed by the waters of one of the great hikes on one side, and on the other enclosed by the forest. We lived utterly out of the world, but connected with it by channels of com munication, along which flowed constant, though slender streams of intercouse all the summer; while in winter we became almost a colony of hermits. Every day, while navigation was open, great steam ers crowded with passengers, gay with flags, noisy with ham's., went rip and down, stopping for a few minutes as they passed, and drawing the idle population to the wharf to see who came or went, or what news might be gathered ; and twice a week all the year there came through the wood from the larger town, which served as our metropolis, a lumbering stage, bringing our letters from the other side of the world, and keeping us from absolute insolation during those months when we were closed in on every side •by ice and snow. We were a friendly and sociable com munity. If we bad little knowledge of the outside world, we knew a great deal about our own. Not onl' tho faces of our towns people were familiar to us, but even the histories—ir; outline at least— of most of them were so too ; and certain ly few atrangers of hig degree or low, came among us without becoming im mediately the objects of lively, not to say curious, interest. In a large town our photographer would have been nobody; in our town he be came a personage. Our house stood at the end of the prin cipal street—or rather just beyond the place where it ceased to be a street, and became a mad, and after the houses had begun to he scattered, with gardens and little spaces of ground between them. One of these spaces, a little larger than the rest, was covered with grass and traversed by a brook, which, having cross ed the road, was making its way to join the lake. It was a pleasant enough little spot ten xears-ago,though no doubt it has long since been built over; ana It was there that, one spring day, a yellow van made its appearance, and our photograph er commenced his career among ns. He was only a traveling artist, it must be confessed. His studio strongly re sembled one of those itinerant mansions which appear mysteriously at fairs, con veying giants and dwarfs, fat women and living skeletons, from one admiring circle of spectators to another; but then it was a studio—everybody was assured of that by an inscription in large crimson letters over the door, which told us also that it belonged to "James Patterson, Photo graphic Artist"—and, of course, was to be looked at with respect, After all, he did know something of his business, and managed sometimes to make real likenesses. The one I have is rough, and the figures badly posed, but it re presents undeniably the orianals, and that is more than can always be said for works of far greater pretension. So he grew popular, and was in demand for all kinds of photographs—landscapes, houses, pet animals (he was thought to have a specialty for pet dogs,) children, grown people—everything that could be photographed he did. Naturally, he made money. Whether he had brought any with him I do not know ; but at the end of the year be certainly found himself, over and above all his expenses, master of several hundred dollars. I ought perhaps to have said before that when Patterson arrived he brought with him in his van a wife and baby. The baby was a pretty little girl of about a year old ; the wife a remarkable nice looking young woman of perhaps tire and twenty. She assisted her husband in his work, and kept the '.'studio" in the most beautiful order; she and her baby, being seen there all day long, became almost as much public characters as Patterson him self. The summer of their errivat in our town was one of great excitement. Oil had been discovered about ten miles off, and well's being dpg and worked with frantic eagerness. Every one caught the oil fever more or less violently; we talked, thotqht, dreamed of Ts:often but oil, 0( cones, oil became a symbol—it was but the gold fever in another form that raged among rut; and truly the accounts which came to us every daywere enough to stir the most phlegmatic. One day a man, meaning to build him self a house, had dng out a large shillow cellar; coming back in the morning he fouud his cellar a great lake of oil—so many hundred dollars dropped into his band, as it were, in the night. Another day it was a well, which bad been sunk bat a little way when a strong jet of oil !prang up, apotttitto thousands of gallons into the air f scattenng riches to the winds till the stream could be eoutrolled and carried off glibly, By degrees We began to be invaded. Houses for refining the oil were built all around us, and the pure air began to be tainted with the smell of petroleum. Everybody grumbled. Yet I dare say the mere grumbling helped a little to keep up among us the' daily interest i* what our neighbors were doing. Manioc' oar townspeople bought wells, or shares of wells; many of the' lower class among them went away to -Petrolia to try their domes as digien„ ex at any rate tu. Ova in some way the large stuns of money which began to circulate there. All through the winter this continued; the oil still rose, still was refined and sold, and embarked for all parts of the world; and every one looked forward to spring to open new wells, and double the pros perity which last summer bad begun. Great, however, was the amazement with which, ono day, wo saw Patterson's door and windows fast closed, and heard that he had taken his wife and child and gone to'Petrolia. What heal' him there I did not see with my own ryes, but the tale was told me in detail soon afterwards. He established himself with his family at the newly-built hotel--do not attach any ideas of grandeur, nor of comfort to the world—and immediately applied himself to find and buy a suitable place for a well, meaning to make his fortune without partners, or, if he could help it, fellow laborers either. After a careful examina tion of the whole neighborhood, and much weighing of the rival merits of the yet unoccupied sites, he made his choice, and with part of his capital bought a piece of land large enough to sink a well, such as those which were coining dollars for their lucky owners on every side. Ikre he went to work, digging from morning till night, and every hoar. hoping to see the brown oil glimmering duskily at the bottom of the hole. Meantime Mrs. Patterson had shared bat very slightly in her husband's castle building. The prosperity of the last year had been delightful to her; it had consol ed her most likely, for much past privation and trouble, and had made her very hope ful for the future. They had done so well, and she herself was growing so ex pert an assistant, that there seemed a rea sonable prospect of her husband being able to establish himself in some large town, where they could have a real home, and where, by-and-by, her little girl would go to school, and grow up among other children, well clothed and taught and provided for. No doubt every dollar laid by had been a real good to her; the sum, as it grew, seemed to represent substanti al comfort and respectability in the fu ture. It was hard for her to see the.whole store risked in what was certainly a game of chance; for she knew, as every one else did, that though there were many and great prizes to be dug out of the otl field, there were also undeniable and dis mal blanks. \Vhatargument she May have used before they moved to Petrolia, I do not know ; she did not talk of the matter then or afterwards, but certainly after the well was bought, after some of their money had been paid for the land, some foe the materials necessary for working it, and some for their board at the hotel, she took up the part of maktng the best of everything, and doing all she could to help and en courage her husband in the new kind of work he had so rashly undertaken. Patterson was of couse, entirely unus ed to hard physical labor. He worked at Bret w:44. c.ameonatotla - ovuktw,„ and in a few days began to feel that he had over done it. Sunday came, and the perpetual dig,, , nng stopped. Our poor photographer, stiff and weary, could,hardly drag himself down into the rough dining room of the house, where groups of men were as busy talking of oil as they had been all the week seeking fur it. lie went about from one to another, hearing what they had to say, asking the more experienced 'their opinion of his ground, questioning everybody as to the depth below the surface of the ground at which oil had been reached, propping np his hopes till they become certainties. Bnt lie was so tired that he was glad to go up, by and by, to his wife's room, and drop into the rocking chair there for a good long rest. She talked to him for a while, and then he fell asleep. She hung up a shawl to keep the draught Irma the open window from blowing on him, and laid another softly over him; for she bad noticed that he was slightly shivery, in spite of the sunshine. Then she sat down and kept her baby occupied quietly, that he might rest undisturbed. But at one o'clock, the dinner-bell clanging noisily awoke him, and they all went down stairs. Patterson, however, could eat nothing, and his wife began to think seriously about that plague of our neighborhood— fever and ague. There was, as there al ways is in Canadian country inns, tea with the dinner, She carried a great cupful upstairs, and put it beside her husband, when she had persunded him to lie down. Then she took her child and went out in search of quinine—a thing pretty sure to be found in every settlement with a' swamp close nt hand. However, though she got the quinine, it was useless; Patterson would not hear of taking it. " Nonsense, Nelly," he said 'don't go and be frightened yourself; I am all right, only not used to digging all day, like these chaps. Let me be!. I guess I'll be at work again to-morrow as soon as any of theme She was not consoled, but he was ob stinate ; and in the morning, after a rest less, feverish night, ho did go back to work, declaring that the air was all be wanted. But in less tharr an hour be dragged himself back, fairly beaten by illness. Then there came two or three weeks, •which were in no Way pcetotant arms for poor Mrs. Patterson. Her husband, in the agonies of fever And ague, and with his mind stifl running upon that scarce ly-commenced diging, was not an easy patient to nurse; her child suffered from the change into this noisy, dirty house and petrolium impregnated air; she her self, besides the fatigue of nursing nnder such disadvantages, hated the life and sickened for the old, freedom and qtaiet. And it was for this that the little store so hopefully gathered, so dearly valued, was to be wasted! Truly she was hardly tried; and I think it was no small virtue in bar that she never once lost her tem perw or reproaclied her husband with that "I told you so? which is so tempting when ones\ convictions have been over ruled no hers had been. Things, imam"; did mend by the help id Op* and patience. At last, though very feebly, Patterson &gait his work again. But, alas 1 the number of dollars in the bank had fled by more than half) and the hole he dug—how shallow and miserable it looked!—bad been partly filled by some heavy rains which had fal len. It was a new trouble for his 'wife when he i still weak and liable to relapse, would go and work in the damp soil, coming home after an' hour or two perfectly-ex hausted, and keeping her in perpetual restlessness day and night with the fear of those terrible shiveting fits coming on. Strangely enough, however, he did es cape another attack ; and was able to work harder and longer every day. Se got help too, and the well grew rapidly deep er. In a short time it was so deep that when they walked to it together after work was over in the evening, and Pat terson held the baby up to look into it, Mrs. Patterson trembled lest the little one should fall from her father's arms into the darkness and be killed. But there was no oil. Other people all around them had found oil before reach ing this depth. Some of the wells, in deed, were deeper, therefore they did not despair; but so many were shallower, and money wasted so fast! Many things were wanted now, even for the working of this well; and as to everything else, they had already carried economy to the last point. They still lived at the hotel, because there was no other place for them; but they had moved into the smallest and cheapest room the landlord would give them; their clothes were patched till they seemed to be made of patchwork; and if they were clean and tolerably tidy, Mrs. Patterson could have told how difficult it was to keep them so. And finally the last twenty dollars was drawn out of the bank. Then it was that the poor wife Made her last remonstrance. " When theso are gone, James," sbe said, "what is to become of as?" " Wait till they are gone, my dear. Be fork that, perhaps, you will be a rich wo unix" " Perhaps I But if not ? How long have we been hoping now ? Everything is gone. If you spend all this, we shall not even be able to go back to the photograph ing. We owe nearly half of it now. Oh, I wish you would come away, and let us go back to the old life we did understand, and where we could earn enough to keep as." " And lose all we have spent? A wise idea that is I I tell you lam certain we are near the oil. I mean to go on for another weak, at any rate." "And how are we to live! You would not let me try to get washing or anything to do at first; and now I hale no way of doing it—neither a house, nor tube, nor anything. And you must remember that everybody here knows we are at the end of our money, and that it will be no use giving ns credit. Even Mr. Clarke will not trust us for a week's board, after this is gone, you may depend upon it." " Don't you fancy any such nonsense, Nelley. There's the well; suppose things come IXI - Um worst, wv. Shoe." " I'm afraid we couldn't. There's Thompson's well at the pther side of the creek been standing For over six months, and nobody buys it; it has got a bad name, and so has ours." " What ails you to-day, old woman ? You're a pretty Job's comforter." She broke down at that and cried out right, being weakened by anxiety and actual p-ation. "0, Tames! " she sobbed, "let us go away. t us give np this wretched oil well, and go and earn our living *Mr honestly," He put his arm around her and kissed her consoling. He was not unkind, nor utterly foolish only weak and obstinate, or heroically persevering, whichever you lease; but he would not be persuaded. rho last dollars went after the rest. Oue day they were left penniless: Then began the misery of living upon credit—n very short one with them, fur everybody knew their money was gone, and nobody believed in the finding of the oiL " I dare say it's there," one of the' neigh bors said frankly to Patterson; "but don't believe you'll be able to bold out long enough to find it; and after all it might not pay for the getting." During these last days, however, he still worked on, and that with an eager ness which was almost insane. His slight figure seemed thinner and more vehement ly active; his pale face and brilliant eyes' looked those of a man devoured by the intensity of passion; ho notmr left his labor from dawn till dark, except when some tool was needed, which, as he could no longer buy, he had to borrow as he could Aong his acquaintances. And still there was no sig,rr of oil, and still every hour lie said to himself, "Per haps in an hour. If I should have to give it up, so close to it!" And a rage against the more fortunate Wen about him took possession of him. In reality he must have been very near madness. In this way the last day camp. The landlord of the hotel told 3frs. Patterson that they must go' away. They owed him already, not much indeed, hut more than he could afford to lose, and more than they had the least prospect of being able to pay. They had absolutely no motley. He had the ,tools which were in use, some rope and other things, which ho hoped to sell "at the worst," but he could not part with these tilt the last !muesli:ok should be done, and all hope finally abandoned. He would try yet this one day.- -Ail the morning he was iratd r at erotic: Alt noon he found it absolutely necessary to length en his rope. He had still thowhole after noon and eferriug before Irinv f _ ewe in those hours ho might conquer Fate; but without the rope be could do nothing. He went about from neighbor to neighbor trying to borrow, but nobody had rope to spare. There was still the store to go to; brit hie credit therb was worn out. Yet still fie Might try; only one yard of rope—surely they would give it: to him. He went in as' bravely as he could, but the sting of formet refusals - was in his mind, anti he made his request humbly, like the beggee he felt himself, "No,. they rally mufti not sell anything -on treat rope was in great demand—not even a yard)) VCITXME XXVIII; NUMBER 2 9. Hope wasquite over then. Ile turned away, and got bad to the hotel somehow, and to his fifer She was busy putting togethet* the fmamenta of *their ward: robes; but when he'calne in, she under stood at 414 e that he had broken down; in. the d'Cp#l of her own heart she felt the sudden pain of utter failure that was in his. She went to him, and ,taking his arm, drew him to a 'seat beside her, and comforted him ras best she 'could, with love and some poor 'shadows of hope. She had not amord of reproach for him then, not even a thought. Now that all his castles had fallen down, they were as much hers as his. So, partly by the help of her absolute sympathy, he began by and by to bear the consciousness of defeat with a little calmness. • He sat by while she finished her, pact.: ing for to-morrow's journey; and when the baby awoke from its sleep, ho even proposed that they should go ont togeth er, and bid good-by to those who had been kind to them in their troubles. They made their little round;..atid then, with a last wish to look at the scene (.1 so many hopes, which early to-morrow morning was to be stripped of its ap pliances, and left to utter neglect, Pat terson drew his wife to the empty well. She sighed as she drew near it, and would hardly look. Suddenly her husband sprng from her side; he stood upon the rough hank of earth, his face flushed, his breast heaving calling to her with inarti culate words. In a mot:Oat - she was be side him. Yes, Fate was conquered; there at their feet, filling the hollow al ready to its very brim, lay a dark, precious lake—lay the oil, which meant plenty. ease, wealth, the utmost fulfillment of all our photographer's dreams. •---- - ---....m...------- A gomAtie Courtship. A student who had completed his stud ies and was commencing his professional life under very favorable auspices, was on his way home late iu the autumn to make a little visit to the parental roof. It was in old times, when the only mode of conveyance for travelers was the stage coach. Among his fellow-passengers in the coach , was a young lady of very able person and manners, who first at tracted his notice by her kind considera tion for an old woman, who was assisted into tile coach at the way-side inn. fir the course of the day the • gen tleman be came pretty well acquainted with the yonng lady, whose name he ascertained was bleu W—. He began to fedi a strong interest in her, acd it would seem from the result that the ,interest was in some degree reciprocal. In the course of the conversation that they held together in the stage, and also walking np certain long hills, where such of the passengers as were so disposed got out to relieve the horses, they learned mutually many pat ticulars of each other's parentage and history, so that as the day passed on they began to feel somewhat lake old friends. During the afternoon a rain storm came on. The roads became wet and heavy, and. the progress mdse was slow. The sky was overcast, and darkness au pervented at a very early hour,:while the stage was yet several miles from the vil lage where it was to stop. As the wheels went on ploughing tirromixl, the mud and ruts, the passengers became uneasy, for the driver had no lights The young,lady, however, evinced so much calmness aitl composure as greatly to increase the ins terest which the student felt for her. The danger was real, as the event proved, for just as the coach reached the top of the hill the wheels on one side went off the edge of the road into a ditch, and the coach overturned. The sttudent called out to the passen gers to lie still as possible, so as to ipt out quietly, one by one, from the opening hi' the side of the coach which was upper most. Hewes himself near the door on that side, and was the first to escape. lle then assisted the others by feeling, for it was so utterly dark that nothing could be seen. The Iron ng lady came nest tun owe. The road was so wet and muddy, he said. that she could not step in it, and she must let him carry her to the bank on the side. So ho took het in his arms and began to carry her acrosethe'maddy road, feel ing his way in the utter darkness, made more intense by the trees of a forest that horde ed the road. She yielded herself so readily to his grasfri aud reclined lief head so confidingly upon his shoulder that he was encouraged to whisper in her ear, "Mary, are you engaged to be married?" She answered "No. "Are you willing to be my wife?" She gutwered "Yes." lie sealed the promise with the usuul'little ceremony; and then placed his prize on a fiat stone,by the road side, the white sur face of which reflected ,the sky suffi ciently to make its fomr just visible, after which ho. Went back to; assist the ether passengers: They were married, and the boy:After ward often told her friends that she at, ways had the most agreeable associations with the ideas of the upsetting-A)f a stage coach, though , they could not imagine why. ' Sun Stroke. Sun stroke and: stroke of lightning, rays Dr: Hall, as far as present light extends, cause death, in the same manner; the blood is eTpanded and gases are liberated, both tending to distend the vein's, which causes in the brain a species of hpoplexy; this distention of blood vessels induces presure on the brain, and consequently all loss of sense and-feeling; the muscles are paralyzed,- all motion eeasesiand the func tion of the body ateall arrested. Apply cold clothes or ice bags fo the head and mustard , plaster to the trek, with something to act:on the bowels as soon as possible. But something more speedy than-this is an imperative necessi ty in most cases,. or death will ensue in a few tiTtimeirt& SkillM and eminent physicians in this country, upon a trim philosophy, have ascertained • that speedy recovery Sakes place within an hour,'•if the patient is bled from both arms in the old fashioned way: Front the largest distend ed vein the blood may only flow by'dropa at the first seconder two, but as it flows freer, the relief becomes ablest Mill 1013• loos, 'and' speedy aid nomplefiv, - • .-Minalasi leas° built 2,000 aleiglva. liVatcTlng•Plisee: illstaUons. "The dotes ate at theratering‘places," and flirtations will be the order of the day and night kw some time to, come. This, according to a pleasant writer, is about the progiamme The lightness,and flightiness ; the ad venting and retteating; the flight and permit ; the baltiiverkd glances that go the swifter to fhe, Mark ;_the coquettish waYe flitis ad while ' and loot - and speech ; the tantalitatititt on the one side and the 'Vesper/diet ois the other; the skillful intertteaving of Moonbeams and. music into tbe cliampaigni the deliciOns torments and love Cruelty; the affectation i of indifference where all e passion, and of preference where there is nothing bitit the cold mockery of pride , and pique) how will not these various aspects of flittatite present themselveil to the quiet obsertets this season, in the deen.purlors, in the re tired places on the lawn; on the beticheif that face the stfpentirre paths, on the moon-lit verandahs =and etc/Inhere, where opportunity opens to those Who know how to put it to pro.mpl,, Nobody flirts on the sand: ff the wave and the burning sand were - not ilSe sure death of even an affected sentiatent, that harlefpiitiade of flannel, and barefoot et that, would help the solitude to cheek it completely down. But at the hotels the ilirtrng is positively desperate: Esther in bathing suit little realizes how much of her power she owes to the thsgett that have fashioned fiet wardrobe and itistrib uted it over her lovely person: Mid poor, bewildered, bedevilled Benedick t4ill trent= ble with the emotion some little dancing witch has kindled within him fOr herown amusement, and Will run up his motto at once, "Death or a double They will fly front Saratoga4o Newport, and from Newport to Long Branch, as birds hdp from spry to spiny, she calling Mtn on with her little low Whistle that boa. finch magic for mishief in its compass: They tell us ffeSt nand tMuriages totebtimes grow out ottheso, flirtation ctsmilhigns; we should soon look fof ithefe the' thistledown went dancing from the stem,' instead of the prickly spines which we know to be there still: "Yet gitipes made by some myracle can be gatheted• there. The landlords care tint, do that the fan continues fast tied furious enough to swell their charges and mhke gunk dccounts fat and substantial: -No more do we, except as for want of aft other occupation in d term of almost dissolving - beat, them spires de cnur come in with.a pietist esque sort of appetite to efilliten hot/tit that would otherwise be claurtediteslum ber and dreams; perhaps MOO idle than even these unrealities. Fifteen Weitrs In n Diinieoti. We find in alt ofd French volume, the " Memoirs of Count Gonfallence," the fol lowing account. of how long the lamp of conversation will hold out to burn between two hunian bell Only. He say& "I am an old man now; yet by fiftead rears my soul is youncr thorr day body. Fifteen years reriSW hitt I did not live —it was not life.4N 6 ertegrebn ten feet square. Daring six years I tad a cow,. panion ; for nine ,Teap3 , was alone. I could never rightly distinguish the fea tures •of him who shared my captivity in the eternal twilight of my cell The first year we walked. incessantly tolether, we counted our pOst rites, annoys forever - gone, over anti' ofet again. The next *3 communicated to each othefour thoughts, our ideas on all subjects:: The 'third we had no idea to impart; Ornhogan to lose the pond' of reflection. Tho fourth, We opened our lips during the, interval of a , month or soi and asked mind - tea if it, i were iniTeettPbssitle, that the world went on as gay and bustling as it - was-wont to do when we formed en integral part or humanity. The fifth we were silent. The sixth he was taken away,. end-,I never knew, of eveaingniredils.hittlier it was to exeentiofi, oflo' the holy air of Irrellotft4 But was glad he wassone; even solitude was preferable to the dirtr Vision of that pale, vacant face.. After this I was alone only one event breaiing oil ray nine year; vacancy. One day—it must have been a year or two after my companion left - me —the dwrige6n door fts .opened, •and a voice—whence it proceedtil I knew not!,-. uttered these words: - - • " By order of his ritajesfj., I intimate you that your wife died a year agof " The door WM . again, shut anttl. Ikond no more. They ha thrust-this grief upon' my beartiatid.left trio alone to strug gle with all its bitter agony." An Old- Story Worth Repenting. Au old story contains a. lesson Which many married couple hare not yet learn. , ed. When Jonatlian TrunThult..was Gov error of Connecticut, a gentleman called at his house one day requesting a privates intervievr. He said: v.' have called upoft a very unpleasant errand, sir, and I want your advice. ,Ely ail and Ido not live happily together, and' f nn thinking thinking of getting a divorce.. 'What& you advise, sir ?" The Govethof sat re lb* moments lit thought; then turning--to his visitor, said : " How did. you treat M 114.-•-•.....--. -, when you coM.d. her ? andlow did yen feel toward her at the time of your .mar. riage? - , . Squire --•----- replied, "I treated her as kindly as I could, for I loved her dear. ly at that time." 1 "Well, sir." said. the Governor, "go home and court her now just as yon 4E4 then, and love her as wheno marr ied her. Do this ire the fear of for ono year, nod den fell MO Meteor! 6. , e l ". The Governor then said, ,"Let ms pray." They bowed in. ptayeti MO theft sepa rated. . When .a year had passed owtry, be called again to see the Governor, and said: "I have called. to thank you for the good advice you gave me, and to tell you that my wife and I are as happy us when first we were married. ' I earinot ,be grateful enough for - your good - counsel." "I am ghul y) twit, - Mr. --"said the Governor, "and I Tope you will Oti.r tinne to court your wife as long as you live." - - • How :to raise beets—take hohi of ilia tops and. pia, • • •
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers