. . ..
. . . .
. .
. .
. . .
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, • • •