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8. - .11A.V/LB7, Prppriettit.'" .
‘,:::lluofixejo . ,-. 45au10 7
DR. W. W. snirrn,
DIMITUPT. ROOMS tt h 1 dwelling. next drat east of the
ina r tgksin . prlnttngolltee. Mee boars from OS- I.
a.Montrone, 3Lay 3, 1371—tt
TUB BARBER,-llas Ust Usti
chilie7 Monte lathe tart" who can share your fate to
inter Cute broart4 black and grizaley hair, in h 1
r.=o,stutt opining: There you will d Mtn, ow
note. below Meßeezies—put on door.
Ilestroaeanno T,lB7l.—tf ' C. MORRIS.
B. *A. U. NtecOLLVII,
Artoutree . i . e tair Mho 'over the Bsitik, Montime
Xcrimen,May - 10, tSit. tt
OIL D. A. LATROP.
Ikihnietwitea an offlce,at the foot of Chestnut street, near
e Catholic Much, where he can be consulted at sit
Meteor. April 18n.
CBOSABON & BALDWIN,
ATTOTINSTS AT LAW.—Ofllee over the store of Wms.
J.Nolfeed, as roblie Avenue, 31ontrove Pe.
W. A. Czoeuiow. B. L. 13...mm2c.
Weetrose, Wants 11M. tf.
.11. D. VAIL,
ATIROPUTIITCUS /JIM SITIZGEOR. Rae permanently
'located himself in Montose, Pa, where he will PrwesPr
lp attend to all calls in hts Ipr:deselect with which he may
be favored- °Mee and residence west of the Court
Ileum am Fitch & Watawn's cake.
•. . LAW OFFICE-
Wa WATSON, Attorneys at Law, at the old ova
atley a Pita, Montrom, Pa.
s.. w. strait. •• Paa. It, 'U.(
• CHARLES N. STODDARD.
Orderta Boots and flttoca, Hats and Caps. Leather and
Kahl lst door below Boyd Store.
Work made to order. and repairing done neatly.
• • Weimose. Jan. 1, 1970.
LMCLES & BLAKESLEE,
Atteeneys and Cannon Mrs at La.. Office the one
beteinfare otenoted bl 11.11. & U. P.Ltttle. on Main
street. Montrose, Pa. [April
IL 11. LIM& QM P. LITTLE L. L. =ALM=
NCK ZW2131. C.
C. PAIMOT. W. U. uccArs.
!ffeILENZIE, FAIT/101' ar. CO.
Drialarir in Trey Goods, Clothing. ladles and main
. taa Stoma also; ay,enta tot the areas Amerliiin
liCea and Coffee Company. (Montrose, Pa., ap. 1.10.
1111AVINIO AHD LIAM DRESSCCO.
!Mop In -the Dow Portal:Bee balldinn, where he will
[weed ready to attend all who may want anything
traowltoe. Montrose, Pa. Oct. la, inta.
0. 31. 111A111.F.V.
DEALER to DRY GOODS, GROCERIES. CROCKERY
Bodin:re. Rata, Ceps. itoot•.Shins, Rea& Made Cloth
lag, Mats, 01le, etc., New Milford, Pa. ISept. a, '69.
DR. S. W. DAYTON,
PIITSICIAIt SIIIIGKON, tender hie nervier* to
the eitLy.ana of Great Bend and vicinity. Omcn at his
rraldtmee, opposite Barnum Bonne, Bond village.
flaps. Ist, 110.—if
A. O. WARREN,
•Tf'OBRBT A. LAW. Bounty, Back Pay. Panaion
sad Biwa • on Claims attended to. Wave e
-oar below Boyd's Store, Montroee.Pa. [Au. 1, 'G9
M. C. SUTTON,
Auctioneer, and Insurance Agent,
aal Sett Fillendsilllte, Pa.
C. %. GILBERT,
Great. Bend, Pa.
AEr I ELT,
Q. B. 41..1zoticoricoor.
Airs. 1, 11169. Address, Brooklyn. Pc
—ontose. Pl. Shop OTeT
chandler% Store. A!' orders sfed In QTR-rate 'tyk
e:attics done on awn nottearoad warranted to tn.
W. W. SMITH,
ounurr AND CHAIR XANUFACTURED B .toot
!Uhl street, Illoatmee. Pa. 3.141. ISEA.
DIALER!. Staple and Fancy Dry Goods. Crockery
Hardware, Iron. Stoat-3,11ra gs, 011 r, and Paint.
Mostsand Shoes. [hut Cap.. Purr. Buffalo Robes
liroCerlea.Proalalcum,c;d...Neo Milford. Pa.
- DIL• E. P. DINES,
11as lumrrereittly e lora Frion dirt tor the pnr
- -= " admirtle mai toner satnatesaMV: 112
„ boars tram. s. Loa. p. sa.
Aax, 1. lava.
SIROVR it BROWN,
*air. Aso Lim turJamica Acswrs. sr
bailees, Attended to promptly. oti fate timms. Office
s AIM daor north of • Montrose , lIotsel,•!_ west gee
'Bristiras STOOCn. • VtomZJ L. Ettows.
ALTTOZINSIT AT LA*. Montrose, Pa. Once oppo
site the Tirbeil Tiowie,* pear the Ctnart Muse.
DIALER In Drer,s, Patent Medicines, Chemicals
Liquara. hint; Olis.Dye mulls. Varnisher,
W Win w
Glass. Groceries, Glass Ware, Wall and w e
ner,Stoneorete, Lamps, Kerosene. blachinery Olio
fas. sea. Ones. AnicuCtZtitioD, HAIM, bpOCUM-1. 1,
Erashes,-Pancy Goods, Jewelry, Perin cry. te.—
Ands: :OM of the most namerous, extensive. and
valuable collections of Goods in Susquehanna Co.—
' Established In 1848. [Montrose, Pa.
D. W. SEARLE,
AMMO" AT LAW. office over the Store of A.
Lathrop, in the Erick Block. Montrose, Pa. (aulTO
DIL W. L. ILICIBIATIDSON,
lliysicl&l a SITHGEOS. tenders his professions
'earrtees to the animals of Ileatrose and vicinity.—
Ones at Wsrraidenea, en the tttrner east of Sayre d
Erna. Foundry. ISGS.
. . .
DIL E. L. GARD:MIL,
iiintinitlor and SIIIIGISON. Ho:Arose. Pa.. Glees
OW:alal *Beetles to diseases of Use Heart tad
. Laogs,sad all Sargladdiseases. °Mee over W. B.
' Dess.s, _Hoards at Bearle's Hotel. Vies. I. lira.
la Dru._,..r Medicine., Chemicals. Dye.
cats, Pants, One; Varnish Liquors. Spices. Fancy
air,caca.Painntnedir/nea i'erfaniery and Toilet Ar•
Mies. PlEr Prescription* carefully cumpounde& —
z,Paalla AvesineiaboTa :Made' Hotel, idontrooe, Pa
,41. D. Sours, - Amos Stenoug.
" IWO L• •
• DIL IL.. ILINDRICK,
_,13 prole* ICIAN a s
.. traosos. res , t7l, tendert hi.
writes la the.
lid girollica lathe orate of Dr. Lett
'Bawds at J. Haaford's. . Aug. I,DOD.
p . RAIMON, PA
- - . WANAlialeal Ertel Diweistn,
HARDWARE, .IRON, STEEL,
NAILS,. SPIKES, SHOVELS;
e , RAI PP Laeuras
. - • • •SAILRO or
CiAIUUSUE- SPRINGb. SZLES,. SKEINS AND
BOLTS. NUTS amid IVASHERS, - • •
; . ./4,478/Airaffejt
a a. .
l i ;;TatVl.
_Spar eplimass. polyp.
Vic= TOCKS sEZLLOVArg
,SLED uss. Fad B uss • it e.d
•- • MUM; HAM a NEEL - •
MUMS WINDOW WAAL ur.APatata roDtmos
:•iasll64 Umbel. 3 IF •
V la AIUBBRD
Ardialraltd34l l Speed' lidd DdableDriirs 'lt
lidddidtke Wald Xeldfork44Widtbdsdi Precetwe
/adamant OLIO XstSonal Preelitutth, WUXI Saw
'Mettle Peassibrentei' Umtata and Virginia State
leseivieelas theletheed eattrelytema
the AM" -.11 ; end eacididd to ;intit oese,th the
moo of_thea,claue, elfecteelly *main IMO Vt
i¢eeitesiged lneiasirj reeti
oncto taer. Iw:44mi:a Ma *apt ,
ate Itself to load lk4l4w ad lidta add
Ow =War I. Petted. • NO_Wil ASO one
Peloo. 4o ubt th e' summed
Wiles we:lk relate aeP aP, It. Wet
The Spotted' (Aunm.
In the overt:lna " Monthly" for July, we find
the followlng.report of an animal not entirely
unknown to western travelers:,
The "author of the " Bale Rode" epic has turn
ed his attention this month to` the amens City
use, the glory of the red man and the torment
of every white man, we suspect, who ever had
the misfortune to bestride. this ; plur.ky little
horse. The poem is Oersted with the following
note: s Ainong the fauna, of Oregon the .ipot
tet cerise' may be.taid to be wrupt in the
solitude of his own originality."Re deserves
a place in song and history, and to that end I
contribute the enclosed:
" Now the government mules en unprincipled
And comes as near being a genuine ass
As any that isn't just exactly the breed;
Rut the erookedest t thing that is loose upon
A desmon on wheels, and without au excuse—
' Is an Oregon pony they call the muse.
nes of Indian extraction--a savage at heart,
With an odor of camas and smoke of the camp,
That has scorned the dull life of the plow and
And is now and forever a vagabond tramp;
With a stomach so tough that he'll live and
On a lludson Bay blanket, or piece of old hat.
"I bought a muse, in the days that are gone.
And I think ho was rather too good for this
With his billowy mane, and those natty spots on,
And a tall like a pirate's black banner un
Ah ! surely, his like never strayed among men,
And I piously trust that 'twill never again !
"He had nothing worth mention in matter of
it made him look saucy and rather
For the Oregon youth chew them off, it appears,
And as ions as can last they can manage to
Through the tempest of 'spacing' that follows,
Whenever they mount this ineffable horse
"Ile would wave hia hind-legs with a kind of
If I tried to draw near with a rope in my hand,
And 'I ran till I wheezed like a babe with the
But the frolicsome thing would not come to a
And I dug a deep pit and with branches con
Where the monster was trapped—but, Jehu!
how he squccicd!
"Then he fought like n tiger,and wouldn't ere in
To the touch of the saddle, until ha was thrown
And choaked with a chain ; and it seemed like
As he limbered right out, and grew calm with
But his eye was half closed, and it shimmered
That slanted, me.nulie_ witting terrible ire_
" 0, he looked his disgust at the mental gear,
As he dropped like a butterfly rudely caressed;
And 1 pittied his plight, and was brushing a tear
That hung on my lash, like a traitor confessed,
When the beautifhl fiend—r was a neat little
Made me swallow three teeth with a marvelous
"From the uppermost rail of a very high fence
I slipped down on his back, and at first he
But I wasn't kept long in pangs of suspense,
Wken he started, and—well, I was forty days
"We withhold the benediction contained in
the concluding lines, It being a little too pointed
and ener g etic for these columns.j Whoever has
become profoundly acquainted with the nature
of a mustang, or native California horse, will
not tail to appreciate all the points poetically
set forth in .the csyuse- As for the matter of
slipping down from a raft fence on to his back,
we know bow it is ourselves; and we have a
vivid remembrance of how it was afterward."
The Cherry Pie.
'Tis late in Nay : what do I see ? ,
White blossoms on my cherry-tree!
" Ah, Bowers r says I,
"By nest July
I'll make myself a cherry pie,
lii hod hi bo well pleased I see
White blossoms on my cherry tree."
"Ila rosy Jump - what. do 1 fleet -
Green cherries on my cherry-tree!
" Poor things!" says 1;
" Bat, by and by,
They be fit fora cherry-pie.
11l ho! hi bo! well pleased 1 ace
Green cherries on my chary-tree."
'Ms warm July: what do I sett
Red cherries on wy cherry-tree!
" Oh! now," say I,
" The time draws nigh
For me to make ray cherry-pie.
• Hi ho! hi hot well pleased I ace
Red cherries on my cherry-tree r
But look again. What-do I see!
81x robbins on my I:UM-tree!
"Poor cluusce," says I, •
"Val® they fly, - ••
I have to make my cherrypie. -
• HI he! hl hoi.iliplessed I see .•
Six rabies on toy cheriy-tree."-
But once again; what do I see ?
Leaves only on my cherry-tree!
"I scarce can spy
One cherry Fir a cherry-pie! '
Hi hot litho! iiiide4cil I see
Leaves onl y on my cherry-tree."
botterat old ran:
r_ ti long and aniannarul ridgn--7the deluge.
Ocilla paper thinks it useless to make
seek a Priairtiont Shoaling a coristable--aa there
ate s handiel caddidg ‘ t,ttahe his place:
arhejsrli 'compelled lturrY 'up
their cakes" may And the folkiwing variety, pre ,
Wmfor miters Aontenient to select
Thi bast cake fur PrizeVilentiPound
cake; the m o st suitable for carpenters, plane
cakes ~ .the turret relished by loafers r apcqge cake;
the most palatable, to boatnim,:pirrant cake;
the meet' ano* , . rabic to hangmen , drop:cake;
the lent kir seed esker the kindiWnlg..
ea in tor surglrinsr cAP. O 4Eri; ;the nutst-bealthy_
Au. plumbers, plum cake; the debtors cake,
thus :nicer - the gardizer the-hoe cake;
she Ane-* l sixtPr r wry *Lice irske;-the gn*
foe discotint, ap ost aka; Injoyel ,
b 7 any une t 4of It •
CORA AND AMBER.
One bright summer morning, a young
nursery girl left the house of her employ
er, in charge of u` air of the , brightest,
chubbiest and roalist - babies -that -ever
parents doted . on ; at least so Mr: and
Mrs. Machon thought. Aod well they
might feel proud Of their children, for in
all that city there was not such another
pair. Such violet-blue eyes and yellow
brown hair yellow as gold when the sun
beams fell on it—cheeks plump and dimpl
ed. And then there was an expression of
confiding trust in their sweet baby faces
that went straight to your heart, and you
feel more like idolizing them yourself than
blaming the parents for their almost idol
atrous love. And they looked alike these
twin jewels, so much alike that the father,
in order to tell them apart, had fastened
around the neck of one a string of coral
beachhead gave to the other one of amber.
So he called his pets Coral and Amber,
though they were baptized Mobra and
Ou the morning of which we write,
Mr. Machon came out from his study just
as the little carriage containing the little
ones was being drawn out of sight.
" I wish, Mary, you had not sent the
children out this morning. I was just
going to take them in fur a frolic. I got
lonesome there all alone, and besides I
feel uneasy about them. What 'if any
thing should happen ?'"
Mrs. 3lachou was very busy embroider
ing a dress for Amber. She looked up as
her husband spoke, surprise not unmixed
with anxiety visible iu her face.
" What can happen, Richard ? Lotta
always takes the best care of her babies."
Mr. Machon said no more, but went
back to his work while his wife stitched
away on her dress. One just like it had
been finished and laid away for Coral.
The next day the children would be a year
old, and Mrs. Machou was thinking'
how she would have their dresses put on
them, and change the beads just to see if
the aunts and cousins who were coming,
or her husband would detect the ruse.
An hour later Lotta returned, pale and
terrified, almost out of her senses. The
little Coral was sleeping peacefully in the
carriage, but Amber was not with her.
The father turned pale as the dead, and
sank down upon the marble steps, while
the mother shrieked frantically, and at
last went ott' in a dead faint, when Lotta,
between 8068 and self-reproaches, told
them how she had gone to the bank of
the river just in the place under the great
elm, where she went every morning, and
how, when the children dropped asleep,
she had taken a book out of her pocket,
place, mwhetianr'ani"`"olal—wo"rmar: tyt?,„fin_..id
with a crutch, came hobbling towsldi
as fast as he could, and told her there was
a little boy drowning in the river just a
little ways above, and begged her to go
and save him.
She was too infirm herself, she said, but
she would tend the pretty babies while
the nurse went.
Lotta said she ran up the river a long
way without, seeing or hearing anybody,
then she hurried back to relieve the old
woman ; but when she got back she was
nowhere in sight and little Amber was
gone too. The scarlet blanket was tuck
ed carefully about Coral, who was still as
leep, so Amber could not have fallen out,
as Lotta at first snpposed ; but the woman
must have stolen, her.
But why had an old woman, who could
scarcely walk, and who seemed very poor
besides, encumbered herself with a child
who could scarcely walk?
This question no one could answer,
any more than they could find traces of her
or the missing child. But that night
Mr. Machon muttered to himself as be
paced the floor:
"It might have been she. Her age and
infirmity might have been assumed. Did
she not swear to bring me grief when all
was joy ? But why do I talk thus? She
is dead. I know that she is dead. Have
I not visited her grave and implored her
in the spirit land to forgive the wrong I
did her? I must look elsewhere for a
clue to this mysterious abduction."
And he did look. Year after year / the
Search for the missing child was continu
ed, bat in vain, till at last hope died 'bat
of the hearts of all but the mother. She
never ceased to cherish the hope that
me day her darling would be returned
to her. They had other children given
them—boys and girls whom they dearly
loved, but the lost one's place in their
hearts was never filled. They always
spoke of her as little Amber, even when
her sister Mobra was grown up,-and had
almost forgotten the pet name given her
in her -childhood. When Mrs. Machon's
children were small, each of their birth
days was made the,occasion of a little
festival, to which only.tbe• near-relatives
were invited. The child, whose.utgal day
was, celebrated, if a girl, was crowned
witty zi garland of flowers, in
preaided.over the feast with all the dignity,
and conscious pride belonging to maturer
years. The practice pleased the young
folks too well to be allowed to come into
disuse as they. grew Older. .On every re
currence of gobra's birthday two wreaths
were , prepared, one for the head of the
beautiful girl, the other to be placed in
the empty chair at the table.
When Mobra was in her eighteenth
year, the family removed from their East.
ern home and took -up their libode in
Chicago. After they had become settled
in the Garden city, Mrs. Machon . wished
to excure_the services of a music teacher
for her daughters, awl as she ate 'untie;
quainted• in the , city,' atiMivertiseinent
waslnserk4 in a daily.paper. - The next
day Inntight several 'applicants for the
pbsitian;'ivitb none of whieh the lady was
- - •
• - at declarershe said,'when the last one
had been gone an hear t "I'm afraid we
shalt be disappointelL -It is almost
It that Miss Brown was tot such' an- in
ceiszust talker and so -frivolous,' 1 'sh6ol-1
haver ensagell- her ;retie geeina. , canoe.,
"If You tad only brOughtillistr-Wintel
with , i 4 mamma l ' said Mobrii who was
fitting in the wutdeir;.mali ' &riding"- her
BY HELENA DEXSOR
, WEIrikiWAT - JULY X 26, 1071.
time between a little snow-ball and a
lapdog, and watch log' the street, her berth-
Will face lightning up now and then with'
expectation as footsteps were beard ap-.
proaching, and then settleinglnto into, a
look ottitsappointment as one and'anoth
er passed by. She was not looking for
an answer to the advertisement. All the
music tea#here in the city (amid not baye
commanded her attention just then. She
was:looldlig for Paul Haions,ber betrolh
ed. He had written that he would be
there that afternoon, and she kueti. he
would bop his prdmise.
While she sat thus the door bell rang
and a young girl, very modestly, but very
tastefully attired, was shown in. She was
a blonde and possessed - extraordinary
beauty,- both in form and in face. Her
light hair hung in short curls over her
neck and were blown about her face by
the wind which came in through the
open windows. The deep blue eyes look
ed timidly at Mrs. Machon as though
seeking help for their owner to make her
Mrs. Mitchell regarded. her without
power to speak or move, while Mobra
gazed at the visitor in astonishment. A
strange, wild hope took possession of Mrs.
Machon's soul as she glanced from one to
the other of tho young girls, for there
was a most remarkable resemblance be
llobra arose and motioned the visitor
to a scat. The stranger was the first to
recover her self-possesion, which had de
serted her the moment she entered the
room and observed the emotion evidenced
by the mother and daughter, and the like
ness between the latter and herself.
Mrs. Machon, by a powerful effort, was
beginning to assume her wonted calmness
when the young girl's voice again threw
her into the wildest bewilderment of joy
ful anticipation and painful suspense.
" I came iu answer to your advertise
ment in yesterday's paper," was spoken in
a voice deliciously - low and sweet.
"What is your name ?" inquired Mrs.
Machon, abruptly and eagerly.
" Eva Chadwick."
" Who gave you that name?" And the
lady leaned forward while her bands were
involuntarily extended toward Miss Chad
wick. There was en imploritv , tone in
her voice as though everything depended
on the answer. It came with a smile
evoked no doubt by the strangeness of
" My parents, iu infancy."
"Are they living?" Mrs. Machon had
withdrawn her hands, and folded them in
a listless kind of way in her lap.
"My rather is dead. My mother lives
on No. 9 G- street."
The bright flush caused by the excite
ment into which she had been thrown,
went slowly out of Mrs. Machon's face
leaving it puler than before. Her next
question was prompted more by curiosity
thFirrvou born in Chicago P"
"I was barn iu the house
and I live."
" When can you give the first lesson ?"
" To-morrow at ten, if agreeable."
" Very well ; you may come
Eva 'Chadwick west away wondering
very much at the lady's words and man
and why she was not questioned as
to her charges, capability, but most
of all at the likeness existing between
herself, and Miss hlaehon.
From her seat iu the window Mobra
watched the music teacher as she descend
ed the steps, and waked away. A few
steps from the house she was overtaken 1 1
by a young man, who Took her hand in
his, retaining it a mouent while he said
something which sent u rosy blush over
his companion's face..
" They are lovers,' thought Mobra, as
they walked on to,lether. Just then
somebody else caughtthe Watcher's eye, a
tall y . oisne man with faultlesa moustache
and imperial. She siw him stop as if he
recognized Miss Chadwick, but the music
teacher took no notice of him. Mobra
flew to a mirror to see that she was look
ing her very best, and then resumed her
seat, expecting every minute to see Panl
Havens enter the room, but he did not
come, though it was he she had seen on
After being joined by Wallace Grover,
as the young man was called, the yonwr
music teacher walked to her own humble
home. At the gate her lover left her,
promising to meet her there the next eve-
Ding, for Mrs. Chadwick had forbidden
the yosthg man the house, not because
I she had anything against him, but, as she
said, Eva would he getting Married one
of these days, if allowed his visits, instead
of caring for her poor sick mother as she
When Eva entered the house, she went
straight to her mother's room ; she found
her tottering from the window where she
had witnessed the tender parting between
the lovers, back to her bed, where she had
i lain for weeks. Eva sprang to help her,
but she waved her back.,
" This. is the way you repay me, you
ungrateful girl. See the money I have
given to educate you and flt , you to take
' care of me in, my old age, and now you
I will up and marry that scamp and leave
me to starve on my bed.. If I had saved
the money I have waste on you I would
have had enough. fur, myself." -
I " Don't -worry so mother, I will never
marry without your consent."
r Eva laid off her things as she spoke,
after which shesmoothedthe counterpane
over the sick woman, saying:
". I have found another place. We shall
get on famously, now." . ,
Mrs. Chadwick made no reply. Eva
glanced at. herself in the old-fashioned
" How much I am like her—hair, eyes
Then she said aloud :
"Mother; did yon'evei see two Jiersons
that were no relation,loOk just 'alike,. di
nearly ?". • ' '
" Nti ; wluit 'a silli'questioul wish
you world not stand there looking in - the
glass all night, • I want my tea:
—Eva moved away saying r,
"Mr. Machon's daughter is tho., very
imagantmeionly.she is so beautifnlP r .
,‘" Whose daughter ?".cried the woman;
raising up in bed; while 4 ghastly ptdenesb.
overspread her foe..
t'. l Eviiepeateditin tinme' and :added - that
else tad engaged to give leeeina 'to hie'
daughters., She was going on describing
Mrs. Machon'S 'strange manner to=ward
herself, "when sho perceived that Mrs.
Chadwick had fallen back on the
while a stream of blood was flowing. ont
of her month.
A boy was sent for a doctor, while Eva
applied finch remedies as were at hand.
"You mast never go there, Eft: ' l :You
must not keep`-your engligemeht. Oh,
has he come here Has he found Me at
last? Oh, if I could only get up long .
enough to go away from. here:- Bat I
shall die. B`va you have killed me. Why
did you go there ?"
Just then the doctor came. He -left
some medicine and shook his head doubt
fully in answer to Eva's inquiring glance,
The next morning the dying - moman
roused herself from the stupor in which
she had lain all night, and called for the
boy who had gone for the doctor , . the
previous evening—then, taking a ring
from her finger, she pla ced it tremblingly
in his hand, saying slowly:
" Take it to Richard Mnchon, and tell
him the woman to whom he gave it is dy
ing, and must see him. Go quickly."
It was the thirtieth of June-31obra's
birthday. The day was to be kept as
usual. Every one was happy except the
young lady herself, who was tar otherwise,
and all because she had that morning re
ed a note from Paul Havens, accusing
her of being false to him, and going over
to a new love, and of other silly, and to
llobra, unaccountable things, among
which was the wearing of her hair in
curls for somebody else, when he could
never get her to wear anything but the
odious chignon. The letter ended by
telling her she was free, since she so evi
dently desired to be.
No wonder, after all that, if Molina was
less amiable than usual. "Fie 1 girls, von
don't suppose I'm going to wear that do
you ?" said she petulantly, as her sisters
held up the pretty wreath they had been
making for her. Oue just like it had
been taken to Mrs. Madam to lay in "Lit
tle Amber's" chair.
It did well enough when I Was of your
age, but now—Mobra stopped abruptly,
as the door opened, and her father's face,
pale and distressed looking, was thrust
for a moment into the room.
"Tell your mother I am going oat!"
Machon had received the dying
The boy led him to the house and into
the chamber. The windows were thrown
open to admit air, while the stillness that
reigned in the room told that death was
lurking near. The woman lay with clos
ed eyes and seemed fast sinking away.
On a chair by the bedside sat Eva, her
face burred in her hands.
One glance at the invalid served to re
store Mr. Machon's composure, which
had deserted Wm the moment lie had re
ceived the well-remembered ring, to-geth
ee summons to attend a woman
KLKm for jeep he had thought wits dead.
to her dwelling, went haes" - 67ht..9;tenee
when the ring so mysteriously restored to
him was given as a pledge of undying
love, to Alice Logan. He remembered,
too, false reports lie had given credence
to, and the quarrel which had not ended
in a reconciliation. These thoughts
were dispelled as he walked softly to the
bedside. He saw no traces of his early
love in the face of the attenuated anti
prematurely aged woman before him. The
hair, which fell loosely over the pillow,.
was Frey and straight, while Alice's was
shinin. , black and curly
W hat t was there in " those -
black eyes as they slowly opened and fix
ed their gaze on Mr. Machon, that caused
him to start, turn pale and tremble. Then
a hand was feebly extended toward him.
He took it mechanically, and icy cold
ness made him shudder.
"Richard Machon, I have sent for yen."
It was the voice of Alice Logan ho heard.
The words came slowly and feebly; bat
there was no mistaking the tones.
" I want to bid you farewell and re
store to on your own. I have had re
Forgive a weak woman, Richard.
By taking from your cup of joy I thought
to add to my own, but there was no hap
piness for me. Eva look up, y_on are in
the presence of your father. You are not
my child, though I want you to think of
me kindly sometimes?"
She took from a box under her pillow
a string of amber beads.
"These were on your neck when I stole
you from your parents. Return to them
and be happy."
"My precious child. My long-lost
And the young girl overwhelmed with
astonishment and Toy, was clasped in the
arms of her father.
When Mr. Machon again looked on the
ram of the woman who had caused him so
much sorrow and yet crowned it with so
much joy, her eyes were still gazing at I
him, but they were the eyes of the dead.
An hour later he was on his way home,
accompanied by his newly found danght
er, and Paul Havens—be had . met the
happy father and child while on his way
to the railroad depot, and made the hap!
py discovery that the young lady, with
golden curls and handsome bean the eve
nitig previous, was not his betrothed.
When Mr. Machon led his companions
into the parlor he found the family await
ing his return to dinner. Mobra did, not
come forth to welcome' lint lover 'as was
her wont, but ri:mained'iri her seat on'the
"Our music teacher!" broke in sorrow
ful tones from one of the little girls, as
the young lady lifted the, veil which had
partially concealed'her features. "What
made her come siilaWr We can't have a
lessen ilia afternixiii, because it's Mobria7fi,
birthday and we are going to sing or dance
or play, or do just whiitever we like-after,
dinner. • '
This was spoken inn lOW tone, bu
Machon • heard everfinird;tmd his
trembled with joyful,Cmotions is he 'ans
wered: : ••-
‘!Not your. music' teacher, girls, 'bht
yonr ,sister.. Mary, Lime found' her , -at
last, our Amber." ,t .. • ...I • •
-Ile look bethandathe *eke eddied
her . to Beema 4 ton`nineh'
overcome to &auntie; but she bed ridektn
her. feat Mid Ives standing - with outstretchj
ed bade, and the. next
VOLUMFA XXVIII, NUMBER .30.
ivua folded of lief in.the wild con
frisiciriVhich folkiwed,.Panlatole . around
to the side of ?dobra, and-when she came
forward .to greet her Win-sister, there
was• a happy light in her eye and a soft
bleak her cheek, which told plainly
that she'ivas at peace With her lover.—
When the family . repaired' •to .- the birth . -
day dinner, . the eitipty chair' was filled
and the dainty- wreath was, twined amid
.the Curls of the one ; in whose memory
iiialerly hands had Tishicined it. That
night 'Eva ChadWicklailed to' keep her
tryst -With Wallace Grover, but 'a deli
cately _penciled . ' note Was sent instead
from Marbo Macbon, inviting him to her
futheea house, and he came to hear that
the vows plighted by the poor music
teacher would be kept by the millionaire's
petted daughter, and when the next thir
tieth day of Juno came, two wreaths were
prepared the same as ever, hot this time
they were placed upon the beautiful
twins,' and each decked 'the head of a
The Darwinian Theory.
Darwin's theory concerning the descent
of mania erecting a tremendous sense.
tion among the monkeys.
They have just heard of it, and are ter
ribly excited. They repudiate the whole
theory. That man descended from them
they consider a slur on the entire monkey
race. A cage of John Robinson's monkeys
held an iudgnation meeting the other day,
after the performance. .
A venerable chimpanzee, whose gray
hairs entitled him to the distinction, was
made chairman, and, sitting iu a awing,
presided with the utmost dignity. He
got a little excited in his speech as be took
the chair, but this was quite pardonable
under the circumstances.
"What!" exclaimed this venerable baboon,
"man descended from us? 1 repudiate the
idea with scorn l True, we have our faults.
We am accused of cutting up monkeys
shines, sometimes, and not without cause;
but this attempt to make us father of the
human race is altogether too much. Is it
not enough that poverty, requires us to
travel around the country in this manner
to make a living l to exhibit ourselves to
gaping men, women and children at so
mucha head, when two-thirds of them
haven't any heads to speak of, without
having it flung in our faces that we orig
inated the pack of &iota styled men."
His remarks were received with every
expression of delight possible to the
monkeys. Some stood on their pyramidal
heads, others hung by their tails, while
others, threw flip-flops from one end of
the cage to the other.
A monkey who had traveled much and
seen a great deal, and who had probably
used the cat's paw to pull more chestnuts
out of the fire than any other monkey of
his age, next eloquently addressed his
"This Darwin has inflicted a disgratio
upon. us that no monkey of any self-re
spect will hesitate to resent. I fling his
tnra-ianineekienr i leickiato hTh-. teeth I (A
indeed descended from us, wnff.Altan- was
my . countrymen 1 (Prolonged howl of de
rision.) If I had this base slanderer of
our race, this Darwin, who dar' rein fame
by traducing us, I would r-r-rend him to
pieces with these pentadactylons hands,
and whip him to death with this prehen
sile tail!" (Immense cheering.)
The chairman interrupted the speaker,
to remind him that no puns would be al
"lowed. Nobody but men perpetrated
puns, and a pun was altogether beneath
the dignity of any monkey who had the
least respect for himself. The speaker
promised to be more guarded in his fu
ture, and proceeded with his remarks.
"Look at the follies men perpetrate ev
ery day! Did you ever know a monkey
to make such a fool of himself as they
do? Did you ever know a monkey to buy
a ticket to a menagerie, and go staring
around and making remarks about people
better than himself? Did a monkey ever
I get druhk, or talk about his neighbors,
and wear a ping hat—unless it was fast
ened on his head bb a detestable ringmas
ter—or sue for a divorce, or lace, or color
his whiskers, or go into bankruptcy, or
cheat the printer, or get elected council
man, or run a bar account, or eat hash—
or run for Congress? Never! (Screams
and screeches of assent:)
Man descended from the monkey, in-
deed ! If we were descended from man it
would be sufficiently disgraceful. I get
ashamed when I think there is ti possibil
ity of a connecting link. Look at them
in their political conventions. In our
Most idiotic moments, did we ever howl
and yell as they do? Look at them in
Congress. A whole menagerie on a drunk
couldn't behave worse. And where did
they get it? They. did not get it from
us, that is a sure thing. The kept° their
cussed nonsense is not the monkey, ! (Au
admonishing shake of the ' heed from the
president} Mr. Darwin must seek for his
[ ancestry elsewhere,,and let the monkey
alone. Ile might trace it to the beasts of
the field or the birds or.the air, or—what
is more likely—the jankiiss!"
Tremendous, - applause followed his
speech. After some further remarks on
the part of distinguished monkeys of like
tenor, Cue meeting passed.a series , of reso
lutions latterly repudiating the Darwinian
theory, and adjourned. .
.—Boverick, the French artificer, made
l a chain of two:.hundred link% with its
padlock and key, all weighing .together
less than the third part of a grain. lie
was also the_ maker r of ,a landau, which
opened and stint by springs. The miuia
tare equipage, with six horses attached to,
it, a coachman seated 'on the box, with a
dog between his legs, four inside and four
outside passengers, a. postilion riding one
of tiro fore horses , Wasidntwn with all the
ease and safety , ,im aginable by a well-,
trained flea: - The inventor' and executor
of thisiinerife 'machine bestowed on it
prebably as Mitch time is would have Bur
tloal M.produeo: ,fire; engine... o r
llopplifier's balloon. , , ,
'•libenilhearted • proprudor of ti
lagerbeer aoloon ittahlaridi re
oeutly,look , bia pocketbook oontairdog
$6OO. jt; yralt found Aod ;atoned ,by . 4
youiig ifuOVitid : the .
thdtgovo 4ioiit to his delightt''. b, ydti
iS onO honiituisitgt ychotekiat'ru
do i 111 ehakeyou for the bre... -
Tao vaty`:i*Rite licu.
On a fine summer's day in the country.
a duck was once sittinginlier nest hatch
ing her eggs, but of this , important task
she wait utmost tired, for scarcely nrilr one
had visited her, as the other ducks were
swimming about in the pond, and did not
stay. to gossip -with her. -At last one egg
cracked, then a .second, then a . third, a
fourth, a fifth, and a sixth, 'until a dozen,
had cracked. • •
There was one . large egg however.
Which would not break for some time af
ter the rest. At length it did crack. Oh
bow big and how.ugly tho ~new comer
was; The mother scarcely dared to look
at him .• she knew not what to think of
him. At last she exclaimed:
"This is certainly a curious- young
drake: It may turn out to be turkey;
but we will soon see. Into the water he.
must go, even should I be obliged to push
The next day waif very beaut iful. and
the sun shone delightfully. The mother
duck left borne. With her family waddling
about her. Splash! she went into the
and one duck after the other 'fel
lowedher example, even the ugly grey
last comer swam merrily about with lho
"He is no turkey after all, and will not
disgrace my family," said the old duck.
"Quack! quack! now coma with me, and
I will show you the world i land introduce
you to the farm-yard."
They soon reached the iard, but when
the other ducks saw the large
they cried: . .
‘:What an ugly thing! Ile is not to bo
suffered among us."
And ho was speedily peeked at, pushed,
and ridiculed by both ducks and chickens.
Su the poor persecuted creature knew not
where he might Stand, or where he - might
go; and was quite cast down by the. in
sults which he suffered on acconntof his
Everyday the ducklinc , was haunted"
like a wild animal; even his brothers and
sisters behaved very badly to him, the hens
pecked him, and the girl who fed the
fowls pushed him roughly away.
Then he Tun and flew over the lulling!,
until towards evening he reached a poor
peuswnt's hut, the rotten door of which
had fallen from its hinges, so that a very
welcome chink was left, through wh ich
be could slip into the room. An old
woman with her cat an hen were the only
inhabitants, Here it was permitted to re
main, in the hope that it would larsomo
eggs; but after three weeks the duckling
felt himself seized with a great desire to
swim once more in the clear water. ,At
last lie could bear it no longer, arid ho
spoke his wish to the hen.
" What whim has seized upon you
now ?" answered she, quite angrily; "this
comes of having nothing to do. Lay
some eggs, and then you will be all right."
" But it. is so beautiful to swim on the
water;' answered the young drake sigh
"A mighty ideasuro. tinlv!" scold
e d .
' - ion at vol. luides"
"Net understand you, indeed! If I
don't, who should, you yellow beak ?" ex
claimed pert madam hen.
And so the poor duckling set off again
on his travels. The autumn passed away
without his getting any friendly shelter.
The winter, with its piercing cold and its
biting blasts, came on, and the poorduck
ling was forced to keep swimming, about
in the water for fear of being - frozen:
It would indeed- lie very mournful to
describe all the trouble and misery :that
the poor duckling felt during the cold
winter. Enough that he remained cower
iii under the reeds in a marsh; until the
sun again shone warmly on the earth;and
the larks °nee more welcomedapring with
their songs., •
The the young duckling' riused his
wings, which were much stronger than
formerly, and carried him far away' to a
large garden, where was a stream which
meandered picturesquely through the soft
grass. Oh, how beautiful, how fresh all
nature seemed! And now there came
from out the thicket three noble white
swans, who began to swim lightly on the
water. The poor duckling envied the
beauty of the.stately birds, and_a.feeling
of melonoboly came over him.
" I will fly towards these royal birds;
and they shall kill me for darin - Letw ga
near them—l, who am so ugly."
With these thoughts he swam towards
the three beautiful swims, who, as they
perceived the, little stranger, came to wel
come him. '
"Do not kill me, " said the 'poor bird,
bending low its he ads towards the water,
and muting death in quiet submission;
when lo it saw its own_ iniage ia-the clear
surface, and instead of au ugly, dark
green duckling, beheld a stately swan.
Just then two little children came into
the gardenoaud.ran towards the canal.
"Oh, there is a new one!" exclaimed
the smallest child, and both clapped their
hands and said . :
"The new one is the mestbeantiful—So
young and so graceful !" ' •
Andl the old swans bowed down to their
_! • ! •
Then , the once ugly birtl felt quite
ashamed, and exclaimed is the fulness of
his heart :
"I never dreamt . of each 'happiness
when I used to be called an Ugly Duck
—A story is tom of a liminess meeting
amongst certain Quakers about a propekd
canal ;.wheu ono of the most• influential
men 'present opposed the projtion . ict oi the
ground of its being a specula This
was,. of course, anuuswemble ; het among
other objections, he ,went; on say:
"When God created "the wOrld, if 'lie had
wanted canals, he would havennuletliera."
Upon this, a "weighty frienr(one of their
terms). rose up, nod said slowly, lu art in
toping-voice in,whigh they always speak
in meetiii,,, , i,"and . Jaeoli digged a well,
and wit demo: 'The inilieutial man im
ttiediately retired into private life; but he
benhtsome Pharos in the canal for all
_ A'trtio pietaie • cit despair is a rig
reicising throuet i a bola in the fence to
get at an card ears, ,lat. is 'only it lbw
tuba beyond-W:o • '