The Montrose Democrat. (Montrose, Pa.) 1849-1876, April 03, 1872, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

• : ,- - _
.._ -
0 , 14 ,
.-- . - , .
. . •
• .
,• • -
. .
. . .„ .
(1 .
...... .
b - • .
_ ..,. a l N 1
.- --- • -4.i.e.
. • .
• ,
- .
. .
, - - ' .4,...5.: 1 '1"
~• . .
... . 'ly '
• " 1 411 . .' . .
. ...1111p .
.. . .
. , .
- -
..„,_ ..
~ _
, 1 i .
~, , , . .
o l i .
% ' ' '
• s
_ , •
• . -.
. ,
, .
;.., • ...
* ' - ' 4
A •
_ .. .
E. H.' RAW LEY, Proprietors
guointoo Card.
kind= located at Jackson Center, Manufacturer of tad
Dealer to Light and Heavy Harnett re, Colere, Wtalpt,
Trunk, Fladdies,be.bnpinzny strict attention rebind.
nese and Oar dealing. to bare a liberal share of
YeteL pattOtinge.
6, 1672.-600—m1.
131131 NS a NICIIOLS,
DMILaiRS In Drugs, Iletttelncs. Cbentlealm. Dye-
Matta, Paints. Otis, Varn l etq Liquors, Spices. Panes
art.clas, Patent Medicines errnmeryand Toilet At-.
Steles. Tal'Preser:ptlon earcfnlly compounded.—
Brink Block, Montrose, Ps,
A. 11. Ettrnza, /
Fab. 11, 11171
AL,tentaleiera Ether no ?mouth st the chro n ic
Chestnut stmt. Call ma consult In all
mantras% Jan. 77."11,n0i1-11.
2.1102ney at Law. Mon [role. At. (Mee next.daor Wow
the "fatten 41onee. Public Avenue.
Mtmtroee. Jan. 17, 1871.—nce3-17.
011141)WIIN, .
♦r+oxstr sad Copraztim Jer Liar, Great Bola. t,eiatt
Arromray AT LAW. Idol:arm, PA. Mee with Juan
s. Cumlt. fiat.
Alonwww. Augnit 30,1F71.
Attertorrs'at Isla Office No. 221 Lackawanna Avenue.
Sicenron. Pa. .Practtee In the several Courts of Lzt.
vane and Susquehanna Counties.
Sautes, Sept. eh, 1t31.-tt
W. caossmoN.
*Homey at leer, Mice at the Court How. In the
Oataestsilones °Cleo. W. A. Caosaitos.
Weratreae, Sept. 6th. ITll.—tL
*slue in liry Goode, Clothing, Ladies and Mines
Ono noel. Moo, agents for the grant American
Tea and Coffee Company.. [Montrose, Pa,alt.l.ati,
DB.. W. W. SMITE',
Inarterr. Manes at his dpellind. next door east of the
34mddlessi printing office. Odle° hours from 9n. a.
404.7.31. 'Montrose, May 3,„ 1871—tt
'Miley Mortis to the barber. who esn share year face to
.order: Cats brown. Wadi and grierier hair. in his
ardlee.just up start - Thera yon will dad him, over
sacra , * store. belowileßeweirs—past one door.
"Montrose, June 7, ISM.—ti C. XOllBl9.
3. B. & A. IL ?IIIeCOLLUM,
ATTOSACTS A? L•w 01140 Wet the Birk, MODirCie
N. Montrose, May 10, IS'IL tf
121111:111PATIM PSMICIaIi AND StII6ECSir. flu permanently
Souted himself in Montrose, Pa., where he w Myren:opt.
ty attend to all calla In his post:sedan with which he may
be Omura& Whoa and residence west of the Court
naulh ow iamb t. Watson's Ate,
Montrose. PehroaryB, lECI.
FITCD & WATSON. Attoraeya at L. at tha al/laic*
a/Motley & Fitch, Montrose, Fa.
1.. F:rrrea. ' Val:Lit. "ti.[ w. w. WATSON.
DaaWitt Boots and Shots, Hats and Caps, Leather and
Findings, Main *Arne. Ist door below anycvs Store.
Work insde to order, and repairing dons curly,
Metazoan. Jan.l, IS7O.
LEWIS 1K,.% 0 LL,
glop in the new Postai:lee tiolldins, where be Irtil
Le found ready to attend ail who may want anything
Nontrove. Pa- Oct. IA IKM.
manna; 46 SURGEON, tinders tido minims to
tee citizen, of Genet Bend and trinity. 'Once et Ids
residence. opposite Bari:dim Soon, trt Bend "ethers..
♦. 0. WARREN,
•TTOSSZT . . LAW. Bounty, Back Pay. Peurston
oat Brom no Olnizos attracted to. Oat. a
-*or below Boyd', Eters. 10 ontrose.Pc L/Po. 1;69
Auctioneer, and Insurance Agent,
ant at! , Wilendssine,
Great Bend, Pa
IT. Ei.
620 Ott
Q. D. o
at. , 1. Address, Brooklyn, Pi.
rILIMIONABIZ TAI/011, Montrose. Pa. Bop over
CYandleo • . Store. IX orders filled to &stow, alto.
Snail): done 00 abort notice. &ad warrtutted to St.
of Maim attest, ltsmtrosa. Pa. Una. 1. IBD.
business extended to promptly, on fair terms. Orrice
Sat door earth of • Montrose A.tote.,•• west olds ID ,
Public Avenue, Montrose, Pa. , [Ang.1,1869.
&Luso, nrnorrn. - - Cassese L. Hamra.
DILIG.3B In Drugs. Patent Medicines, Chemicals
Upton, Plata. 01.1a,Die ricers, Vandsbes. Win w
Glass, Groceries. Glass Ware, Wail and Window Pa.
per, Stone ware, Lamps, !lawmen.. Machinery Gila.
Trusses, Gans. Amman Dion, Knives. dpeCtarJa•
Lashes, Taney Goods, Jewelry. Parte se--
being !one Wile most immerous, extensive, and
valuable collections of Goads In Snit:Li:tam:lna Ca.—
gstahlinhed In tail.
. [Montrose, Pa.
TTOMNIT AT LAW, ornes ore: the Mare of A.
Lathrop, a the Brick Mock, Montrose, PA. Duarn
lIIIRCIAN IP BURGEON. tenders tds professions
melees to the citizens of Montrose and vicinity.-
0 Cies at hill residence, on the eorneresst of Barre
free. Forindry. LAzg , 1, UM
PIgYSICIAS sod SURGEON, Montrose, Pa. Gloss
especial attention to diseases of the Resat end
Lugs and all Surgical diseases. °ee over W. &
Demi - Boards et Searle's' Hotel. LAtug. 1. 18E9.
Wbolanita ARetailPathanta
. NUTS and wAsams, •
JRO .171.7115.8P05E5. •
i5 ..4" 1 . 0 0,. 5, RA 7 SPINDLES.
nriud : o 4. Huth 24. ISS3. IT
fIUNGEABLE nosed and Doehle Drive Wheel. It
cgs the greu Sew YortStateNational Premium I
it dho zirto. theet 013 1 0 National PretSlSteterhela Neese-
PremluiAel the Peensylvtels, Maryla;ll zed V l s7tiate ls44B
."fte,plb ectsparl. mused entirely from
"r_ eels . and enclosed in a neat case. in the
and" 0 441de, etrectuarly musing It frost grit
The operstim tan be changed Instantly from a lash
e'Read to one a thied eloper. without stop, that adapt.
tat Itself to bad Mance Stst ILfht and hese, gau.
One ashler apparatus is perfect. -NohraM and one
Meat titrahead; te. Is twarslnd doubt -the eLthe.A°2l
aseldes is the world, se4 you alltdePentl tipos
lartectly tellable In every tuth:alai'.
"Neetheee. -
EtWil 4 ,44 l ATIVIR.'*il
win= ci: vrtestien.
Annie and Rhoda, sisters twain," 9
Woke In the night to the sound of rain.
The rash of wind; the ramp and roar
01 great waves climbing a rocky shore.
Annie rose up In her bed gown white,
And looked oat into the storm and night.
" Hush, and hearken I" she cried in fel%
" Hearest thou welling, sister dear 1'
"I hear the sea, and the plash of rain,
And roar of the northeast hurricane,
"Get thee back to the bed so warm,
No good comes of watching a storm,
" What is it to thee, I fain would know,
That waves are roaring and wild winds blow I
" No kiver of thines afloat to miss
The harbor lights on a night like Goa"
"But I heard a voice moot my name.'
Up from the sea on the wind It came I
" Twice and thrice have I heard it call,
And the voice is the voice of Estwiek Hall!"
On her pillow the sister tossed her head,
" Hall of. the Heron is sate," she
" In the toughest schooner that ever swam,
Ho rides at anchor in Anisquam.
Amos Mantua
"And, If In peril from swamping sea
Or lee.shore rocks, would he call on thee t"
But the girl heard only. the wind and tide,
And wringing her small white hands she cried;
" 0 sister Rhoda, there's something wrong ;
I hear it again, so load and long.
"Annie! Annie? I hear it can,
And the voice is the voice of Estwick mar
C. C. Ficare
Up sprang the elder, with eyes aflame,
"Thou Hest! He rever would call thy name
"If ho did, I would pray the wind and sea
To keep him forever from thee and me r
Then out of the sea blew a dreadlial blast ;
Like the cry of a dying man it passed.
The young girl bushed on her lips a groan,
But through her tears a strange light shone—
The solemn joy of her heart's release
To own and cherish its love in pear*.
" Dearest r she whispered tinder breath,
" Life was a lie, but true is death."
" Tbs. love I bid from myself away
Shall crown me now in the light of day
" My ears shall never to wooer list,
Never by lover my lips be kissed.
" Sacred to then and I henceforth
Thou in Heaven and I on Earth r
She came and dmd by her sister's bed:
" Hall of the Heron is dead r she said."
" The wind and the wave their works have done,
We shall eee him no more beneath the sun.
" Little will reek that hart of thine,
It loved him not with a love like mine.
" I, for Ma sake, were he but here,
Could bem and braider his bridal gear.
Though hands should trembleand eyes be wet,
And _stitch for stink in my bean be sm.
4' But ntm my soul with his soul I wltd ;
Thinc the living, and mine the dead r
Dear Aunt Lottiel sweet Aunt Lottle I
With the heaven tight in thy Tice,
Bleeping now the sleep of wonders,
Safe in Jesus' glad embrace.
Tell 119 of thy sweet surprises
As then nearest the pearly gate ;
01 look back and once more bless us
While upon this aide we wait.
Tell us of the crown of glory
And the robe that is for thee;
Search the priceless treasures ore';
Are there any there for me!
Dear Aunt Lottie, when, with seraphs,
Thou en golden harp dost play,
Lean thee over heaven's ramparts,
That the strain may Host this way.
We would hear thy songs of ransom,
Hear thy songs of praise and hie;
We would catch the inspir tions
That did woo thy soul above.
Dear Aunt Lottie I glad the welcome
That awaits thee on that shore,
For thy smile is sweeter, sweeter
Than it ever was before-
Gone thine every care and aorroar,
Gone thine every fear and pain ;
Dear Aunt Lottief tweet Aunt Lottiel
Who could wish thee back again!
Old Time and I the ether night
Had a carouse together;
The wine was golden, warm and bright,—
. Aye just like Summer weather.
Quoth I, "Here's Christmas come again,
And I no farthing richer:"
Time answered, "Alt, the old, old strain
I prithee pass the pitcher.
" Why measure all your good In gold!
No rope of sand is weaker ;
'Tis hard to get 'cis hard to hold—
Come, lad, 511 up your breaker.
Hest than not found true friend more tree,
And laving ones more loving!"
I could but say, "A. few, a few I
Sot." keep the liquor moving."
" Hest thou not seen the prosp•ronit knave
Corns down a precious thumper?
His chests disclose ?" " I have, I haver
" Well, surely, flint's a bumper!"
" Nay, hold a while, Fve seen the just
Find all their hopes grow dimmer:"
"They will hope on. and strive, and trust,
And conquer r "That's a brinamer."
"'Tis not because today is dark;
No brighter days before 'em ;
There's rest for every storm-tossed barque;'
" So be it ! Pass thajorum !"
"Yet I must own I should Itcd mind
To be a little richer."
" Labor and want; and you may. find—"
"Liallowl an etapty Pitcher r
gitvities and atlititiono.
—Of all passions, jealousy is that which
exacts the hardest service and pays the
bitterest wages. Its service is—to watch
the success of our enemy; its wages—to
be sure of it.
—lt is in vain to hope to plum all
alike. Leta cum stand with his face in
wbat direction be will, be toast necessari
ly turn his back on one•balf of the world,
—A losing wife, on the decease, of her ,
husband, sent the following telegram to MC
distant friend: “ Dear John fa dust
Loss fully covered by insurance."
=d; rotellantoup.
I was theik residing in Paris, and'my
concierge, in showing me a set of rooms
more convenient than those I bad occu
pied before, said t "Mensieur will not have
much of a view,bnt ho will enjoy the bene
fit of Mademoselle Sylvie's flowers and
her two canaties;" and pointing across
the courtyard, he glanced up at a small
window very high on the sixth floor, ant=
bowered in a thick trelliswork of sweet
peas, scarlet 'mimeos, and mignonette
boxes, amid all of which huge a brave
little cage, smart with green and white
paint and gilding. It was a costly looking
trifle, this cage, and-one was rather sur
prised to see it so ingh up salt sixth floor;
but the two birds inside hopped from perch
to perch; and piped their trilling notes,
and shook the trim yellow wings they
had just dipped in water with as chirping
an air as if the whole world was theirs, and
there was nothibg en earth too good for
them. "She is a stay-maker " continued
the conclergei "and the ne xt window to
here is that of M. Polydore, a railway
clerk." Ido not know why the concierge
should have thought it necessary to thus
intrude M. Pelydore upon the scene. I
was rather disappointed that he had done
so. I could have wished he,dad kept this
gentleman in the background, or brought
him in some other day incidentally to
something else. But it is a way with
Frenchmen quietly to root up certain il
lusions, and th do it quickly.
I took that rooms, and during several
weeks was enlivened by the sight of the
flowers and by the chirruping of the two
canaries. Of an afternoon,
when alehouse
was in the shade, and the bustle which at
tends the arranging of rooms, the opening
of windows, and the shaking of carpets in
the morning was over; when the yard was
silent and cool, the warbling so clear and
melodious, so 'gay and unrestrained, that I
sometimes laid down my pen merely to
listen to it. But I never saw Mlle Sylvie,
and I was beginning to regard her as a
sort of myth to be perpetually associated
with songs of birds and impenetrable
groves of creepers. One morning,however,
having chanced to rise earlier than usual,
and being seated writing at my desk, I
raised my eyes toward the familiar win
dow and observed a young and bright, but
rather pale fice protrude through the foil
age, and a pair of small hands suspend
the smart cage on its accustomed hook.—
The birds bad been under corer for the
night, and oti being pat into the air in
stantly saluted the rising suit with their
music. Then the small hands disappear
ed and came back again, the nimble fing
ers, armed with scissors, set to work trim
ming the plants, here lopping off one ten
dril, there tying up another, after which
a new eclipse, and then :the small hands
brought the tiniest of water-pots and
gravely watered their ten thousandth part
of an acre of garden land. At this mo
ment, while I was studiously surveying
the scene, the adjoining casement was
opened, 'and , a second head, much less
bright and interesting than the other, and
ornamented by a shaggy crop of uncomb
ed hair and 'a black moustache, became
visible, and there commenced an inter
change of greetings between the windows.
The water-pot paused on the edge of the
mignenette box, the face smiled amiably,
and the shaggy head, putting out a large
band with a pair of tongs in it, anita
basket fastened to the end of the pair of
tongs, leaned forward and passed the bas
ket until it dangled right among the
flowers, Then the nimble hands lifted
something oat, fumbled half a moment:in
a pocket and dropped something in,.and
the basket traveled back followed by an
other amicable smile and a nod.
"Yea, it's like that every morning," ex
claimed the !concierge, who had come up
with my letters, and was standing by me,
holding a shieaf of other lodgers' boots,
letters and hot-water cans between his
hands. That is M. Polydore, the railway
clerk, passing her breakfast to Mlle Sylvie.
M. Polydore rung down at seven every
morning for his own provisions,and brings
up his neighbor's at the same time—two
sons' worth of milk, two rolls at one son,
and a son's worth of chick-weed for the
birds, and that's all. It's never more than
five eons she" has to drop into the basket,
and I'll be bound M. Polydore would pay
it all for her himself, ay, and double that
if she would:only let him."
But here the concierge interrupted him
self, for a second and a more novel scene
was being enacted. The shaggy head,after
vanishing for a moment with the tongs,
had reissued in their comany,,and was
sew passing a new basket, the conical
shape of which revealed its contents; it
was presumably fall of strawberries: 7 ,-
31'11e Sylvie: lifted up her bands as uthei
iog an amtised exclamation took Out- a
strawberry, which she thrust through the
the bare of her cage, then nibbled one
herself, making a little sign to say that it
was good; but, having done this, shook
her bead and was apparently for sending
the rest back. Whereupon a discussion
arose, which; of course, we could not hear,
but the pantomimic eloquence of which,
especially in so far as AL Polydore's ges
tures went, was easy to comprehend. It
lasted two good minutes, and then the
matter was Settled by 3l'lle Sylvie shaking
one or two more strawberries into her left
hand, and waving her right laughingly be
fore her face, as though to convey: "This
is positively all I shall take, 3i Polydore,
so you needn't tempt me." M. Polydore
protested, but finding it was of no use,
gave a shrug,and the pottle moved slowly
back on it way with the tongs. Mlle
Sylvie then: took up her tiny water-pot
anew,•and finished her watering.
- "Yes," said the converge; .approvingly,
"that's just it. M. Polydore la a good
heated young man, of the free and easy
sort; and he and Di7le Sylvia get en very
well together. He goes on errands for ber ;
she mends his things for him; butexcept
they meet on the staircase, all their talk
ing is done through the window. H. Poly
dore, I suspect, would like affairs to take
another turn ; but Mlle Sylvia knows how
to put - young gentlemen back to their
places. 'nu understand, she is , engaged
to a isergeant who will .marry her when he
has finished' his seven years, that is year
after next, I believe; 'slid ha being an
honest man, the match would be broken
snap off if anything went wrong. So she
bides as still as a mouse and stores by
every centime she Can, andi seems to live ;
on air, and she stitches and stiches enough
to wear htr fingcrs away, for she's a deft
needle woman, as Monsieur will find if he
ever wants anything sewn for him and
doesn't mind giving her the fob."
The concierge tetired—worthy chatter
box, whose chief delight was to communi
cate to one lodger the adventures or mis
adventures of the other—but I suppose
613illti of-'hie words lingered after him, for
that dity, buil* out, .I bought a dozen
pocket handkerchiefs, and sent them with
my compliments to Mlle Sylvie,requesting
that she would kindly hem and mark
She was less than a week about the work,
and brought in one afternoon whbn'the
sun had been so lustrous and her canaries
in such spirits that the very sparrows of
Paris, who are the most unconcerned
birds in existence, must have wondered at
and envied them. A slight knock, and
she entered, reserved in manner, bat un
embarrassed, and with that perfect grace
of demeanor which seems to be the appan
age of Frenchwomen. She had not much
of what artists call beauty, but her teeth
and hair were admirable and her eyes
shone with an expression of innocent vi
vacityt very confident, true, and captiva
ting. On the other hand, she was evident
ly overworked. Iler figure was slight and
thin, and'her face much paler than I had
been able to judge, seeing her from a dis
tance of four stories.
°These are Monsieur's handkerchiefs ?"
she asked, and saying this handed me the
little card-board box in which the order
had been sent her. I mechanically exam
ined the work, and was struck with its
conscientious character—every stitch so
honest and straight, and the design of the
cvphet she had wrought in fancy letters so
delicate, painstaking, and able. Then,
having admired, I inquired - how much I
was indebted to her, and she named a vim
so modest that, reflecting on the/ prices
charged for these things by people who
are called fashionable hosiers, I wondered
with some indignation bow anybody could
have the courage to grind unfortunate
needle-girls down in this way.
"But you must find it very hard," I ob
served, "to live on such small gains as this,
M'lle Sylvie ?" "Oh, monsieur," she an
swered, with a little shrug and a smile,
"it's woman's work, and that's never much
She said this so quietly that I wll'asin
able to divine whether there was any
irony in the remark or whether she really
thought that her sex earned as much as
could be expected; so [ repeated:
"I consider it very little." •
"Yet there are women who would sew
for less," was her tranquil answer, as she
smoothed a crease out of the neat white
apron that covered her neat merino gown.
"We are so many women,and so few trades
open to us I Monsieur has never been in
proper quarters ? There are women to he
sego there who make workmen's blouses at
three 801:19 th? blouse; they stitch fifteen
hours a day And earn thirty souse. No
body can have an idea of what wretched
ness is unti t tha has seen these women.—
Imagine sue b -
of them as have children
and sometimes a drunken husband, and
nothing but this money? There are some
who say that all this is the fault of the
employers; but ther(the employers) pre
tend that they can't pay us any more and
women have not the power to raise wages
by striking work as the men can. No
body ever heard of a women's strike. To
begin with, women are not free, and so
couldn't strike if they would, for their
husbands and fathers wouldn't always let
them. But even if they were free,,l do not
believe any number of us women - could
agree together for long. We are so fond
of Inarrelling with one another!"
Here she smiled again, and seeing me
listening with silent interest to her speech,
said quietly : "As for me, monsieur, I have
no right to complain; lam one of the
lucky ones."
"Lucky, Mlle Sylvia ?"
"Yes," she replied, "I earn my three
fiances a day. It's not mtch, but it's
enough, and Pmanage to put by a little for
rainy weather. Sometimes I wish it were
spring all the year around, because of the
cold in winter, which numbs one's fingers
and makes it difficult to sew,but when the
winter's,pver and the sky gets blue and
warm again in April, then I feel glad for
what we have gone through, for it makes
the spring seem better. But evtn in the
winter there are amusement, and I used to
go to the theatre occasionally; but not
now, because my lover doesn't like it."
And here she drew the faintest of a sigh.
"Yon see, it was 31. Polydore. M. Poly
dore is my neighbor, - "she explained simply,
who knew some actors of the Ambign and
Gaite; they gave him tickets, and be gave
them to me, and I used to go with one of
my girl friends, and we used sometimes to
cry all the eyening. Ab !it does one good,
those pieces that snake you cry ! But my
lover is jealous, and woh't let me accept
presents from anybody, and I know if I
were to. take anything again from 31.
Polydore he'd beat me—Oh, monsieur, ne
craignez rine, dest le meillettr garcon do
monde"—she exclaimed, naively, as she
perceived that this glimpse of her lover's
disposition bad not impl'essed me very fa
vorably. "I do with him what I please ;
but then he's a sergeant who has always
been well noted in his,regiment, and lie
says: 'l'm not going to, marry a girl
against whom people have got anything
to say, Sylvie'—and he's quite - right. If
I were a man I know I should be' like
that." •
"Then you work and wait, Mlle Syl
vie ?"
"I work and wait, monsieur," she an
swered. "My lover lays by : what he can,
and when his term of service is overlie
will marry me, and we shall try and keep
a shop. That will ho in two yearii' time—
yes, in two years all but .a mouth," and
hero again came a abort sigh, aethorigh
to say: "It's a little' too long„.but one
must be patient"(
She glanced at 'the clock, andk t t ook
this as a hint to pay her, and otbilnlc her,
endeavoring to
than the
as Tdi&so,
to accept more than then:let:4cent sum
she had meptiondd.' -But' this Was all in
vain. 13ki counted me my chmte -with
painful exactness, dropping a modest, un;
affected little courtesy and Withdrew.
It was several years afterthat,that Pan'
ing through one of the, gabled towns, of
Picardy,l was sittracteit by the fresh, jaunt
look of a tobacconists shop, standing at
the corner of main street, and stepped in
to buy a cigar. A iterate, laughing man,
in shirt sleeves, was seated near the door
giving a chubby urchin of four a ride on
his knee, while another, with the zonnd
clipped head of French youngsters, was
sprawling on the floor crowing. Behind
a young woman, dressed with the wonted
spruceness and dignity of French burallB
- was manipulating screws of caporal,
and looking on complacently, at the scene.
She recognized me at once, and I recoiz
ed her. It was the former Wile Sylvie.—
Of course we fell to talking of old times,
when we were so happy—as Sophie Arnold
used to any—and I reminded DPIIe Sylvie
of her birds, her flowers, and her garret
room on the sixth floor.
"Ah, but she never told you all, sir!"
said her husband, raising and laying a
hand upon her shoulder. "She need to
put by half her small gains every day so as
to have a dower to give me when I marri
ed her. On the day when .I got my dis
charge I came to her suddenly and found
her stitching in her little room without a
fire, It was January and the snow was
falling outside, so that my uniform was
quits covered with it! Can you imagine
that, monsieur? no fire in January!" and
he began to chafe her filigree between
his as if they must still be cold after such
an infliction.
As for her she colored, and tried to atop
him. But he would not be stopped, and
talked of her industry and her privations
with feelings of pain' and pride that were
obvious enough. "Well, monsieur," she
said of last, with perhaps just the faintest
quiver in her voice, "it was a little WO at
times, I know—mais ii vaut mien payer
le bonheur avant qu'apres ;" and she
glaneed fondly and happily at the little
family of winch she was the queen.
I thought the sergeant a lucky fellow.
The Ardennes Dog.
The dog of the Ardennes accompanies
the flock when it leaves the penfield in
spring, only to return when the winter's
snows drives the sheep home again to shel
ter. Each shepard possesses one or two of
these dogs,according to the size of his flock,
to act as sentinels, 1 heir office is not to run
about and bark, and keep the sheaf in or
der, but to protect them from outside foes.
When the herdsman has gatfiered his
flock in some rich valley,these white; shag
gy monsters much upon the ground, ap
parently half asleep; but now and then
the great, sagacious eyes will open, aud,
passing over the whole of their charge re
main for a while fixed on the distant hori
zon, as though they followed a train of
thoughts which led them away from earth
—so sadly do thet gaze into the infinite.
Hut let the mountain breeze hear to his
ever-moving nostril the scent of the hated
wolf, or his quick ear detect an unknown
noise ; then is the time to see one of the
dogs in his glory. His eyes become Week
with fierceness; his hair stands erred;
his npper lip becomes wrinkled, showing
a range of white, formidable teeth; while
a low growl alone escapes from his throat.
When his keen faculties have detected the
wheareabout of his foe, he rushes forward
with a bound that overleaps all obstacles,
a bark that echoes from all the surround
ing hills. Every dog of the like breed that
may be near takes up the.note,and rushes
gleaming through the brushwood to join.
in the attack. lender as the childhood he
protects, woe to him who dare lift a hand
on one of the little ones with whom he has
been brought up. It is not he who buys
him who is his master: it is he who fed him
when a pup, who petted and shared his
pitiance with him—he it is who has his
love, and who recipmeates ei
fection.—Overland Monthly.
Take Care of Yourself.
How often, passing through the streets
do we hear the words at the heads of this
article. They are generally spoken at
th‘ close of a conversation, when the time
comes for parting. Yesterday we saw a
man slightly under the influence of liq
uor, who, after a conversation with a
friend, was bidden" take care of yourself."
Rather unsteady in his manner, he
" Pll do it my boy," and went away
down the street.
They are about the last words of a
mother when a boy makes up his mind to
see the world, and is leaving the parental
roof. "Now, take care of yourself," says
the mother. " I will," is the response ;
and away, in many instances goes- the
youth, too often to tight the tiger, and to
learn that the tiger has. claws, which
leave their marks until the day of death.
"Take care of yourself," says parents
when the young and innocent maiden
goes forth inta the battle of life, and she
replies, equally confident, that there is no
One of the Greeks, said, "Know thy
self,"*Fand the Great Teacher said, "Deny
thyself ;" while in this 19th century we
bare shaped the philosophy into "take
care of yourself."
How many can do so effectually2—The
pleasures of the world allure youth to
danger. They think they are strong and
will dare. They wake up to find that for
bidden pleasures are stronger in their ef
fects than they bad calculated, and learn,
too late, the value of that advice given to
them by their parents.
Ithi too often the case that young peo
ple despise the counsel and warnings of
their elders; and hence has arisen the
rough saying, that young people think
old people fools, while , old people know
young people to be so. "Take mire of
yourself," though oftenspoken, his come
to have little meaning ,
'. It is often used
in mirth, without any, serious intentions
to convey counsels, and 'yet, 'bow much
we all stand in peed of the caution. We
cannot do hitter, in closing the short es
says to which the scene narrated gave
thought, than by the common parlance
of the street "
.Good bye ' take care of
sap he has observell that, the
intirteeite lean'efriefige twleim*e3i
eft . ' "
litlßhaiU yenW il lat; . tilvesimid 114
A iterreapon eta of the Cincinnati C'om
menial writes from /jolt Lake ,City„ as
8131411A1e8 - Valr';&
I asked the Elder' how Macy 'wives
Brigham bad, so art° pt some authority
upon _that dialmted point. ,
" Living•vvith him here in the •lionse,"
replied the Elder, "le . has only sixteen,
but then there an a number of others, I
really don't knaw how many, married to
him allover the Territory, many of whom
he bas not even-seen since the hour they
were married."
"What's the use of that sort of a mirr
riage r I asked, with an eye to the pm
tical as well as the spiritual
"These marriages are for the next
world; they are spiritual marriages. We
believe that marriages are for time end
eternity. Bectsuiel marry a woman it is
ne'sign that I am going to live with her.
She is sealed to me for eternity. For in
stance a lady whom, perhaps, I have never
seen before, comes to me with a letter of
introduction from sonic of our Church
officers, saying that she is a • good, deserv
ing lady, and desires to be united to a
man for eternity, why, I should consider
it my duty to marry that lady, although
I might never see her again in this world."
"But suppose the lady already has a
husband r I added.
"That don't make any difference, she
can be sealed, to me just the same; per
haps her husband is worthless fellow,
and in every way unworthy of her." ,
Wouldn't your wives object ?"
"Oh, no, we understand all that; there
isn't so much objecting going on as you
think, whether we marry to cohabit or
simply for the next world. I didn't mar
ry my second wife until my first had con
sented. I said - I -wanted some more chil
dren, some sons to bear my name. It was
the Lord's will that I should have them.
My first wife consented, and told me to do
the 'Lord's will, and I married again, se
lecting a much younger woman than my
first wife, and she bore me some fine
I give this as a specimen of the sort of
talk one will hear among the elders and
those high in authority in the Mormon
Church. They talk as freely about their
families as they would about their oxen.
And all this wickedness, these brutal
practices, this degradation of woman, has
nothing for its foundation but a pretend
ed revelation to Joseph Smith from heav
en. Of ail the humbug and bosh, super
stition and clerical quackery that was
ever pumped into any creed or sect, the
Mormons have it. Yet 'their diaboli
cal creed is no more marvelous than their
perfect sincerity.
All of Brigham's sixteen wives with
whom he lives have born him children ex
cept one, called Amelia, Amelia•. is his
most noted wife, spirited, pleasant, and of
American birth. She is only thirty-two,
lacking some years of being half as old as
her husband. :His wives are of all ages,
his last two being - quite
„young, mere girls
in fact, when they married him. I asked
a Gentile gentleman of their acquaintance
why they should be such fools as to want
to marry an old man with over a dozen
wives already. Was it for love ? "No,
indeed," said he, "for I know they did not
love him."
"Were they compelled to marry him !'
"Oh, no, they did it of their own free
will, as they thought it a certain way to
get to heaven."
muoxi,m'a CHILDUEIT.
Brigham has sixty-eight children, about
forty of whom are female. They are of
all ages from three years to thirty. Sev;
eral of "his older sons are young men of
promise and position. He is the father of
a good deal of talent, and some of his
children will be heard of In the world
hereafter. Last night, at thetheatre, I
was particularly struck with the good, I
might say superb, acting of a younglook
ing lady, and quite handsome withal. I
made inquiry, and learned that she was a
daughter of Brigham, and one of the five
wives of H. B. Clawson. Clawson being
a man of wealth and standing, and a
devout Mormon, has married two of
Brigham's daughters , in addition to his
other three wives. Isn't that a curious
way to do? It certainly is tons Gentiles;
but to the Mormons it is all perfectly cor
rect and proper. In several of the States
a man is prohibited from marrying his
dead wife's sister, but here in Utah it is
Much the style to marry two sisters at
once, beside having several other wives.
But as long as it is necessary to have two
or more wives, I tbinkthe is a wise man
who marry sisters, if Necessary.
Many of Brigham's child= giro hand
some and lovable. Those by one of his
wives, Mrs. Decker, are particularly so.
He provides well for his numerous sons
in-law, and takes great pleasure in seeing
hie children, well married off and happy,,
if there can be any happiness in the Mor
mon married - state, which I doubt. A
marriage takes place in his family now
very often, as his numerous , flock are
rapidly maturing. One of his daughters
married last'Sunday. I hear of one who
had to run away tamarry. Brigham be,
ing opposed ,to the match because the
young maw who loved his daughter also
loved lager beer. Brigham-tried to break
of the match'ilind keep his daughter at
home, but his borne has so many doors to
it that he cohld not watch them all at
once, and she got away. If this, teaches
any moral at all, it is either to have fewer
daughters.or fewer doors.
—They tried to lay down some concrete
pavements in Providence, R 1., the other
dav, but from the ingenious way in which
the thing was dene,the citizens carried of
most of the stuff on their boots, to tho
manifest injury of carpets, eacl the ee.
couragment of numerous prospeptive law
—This is the way, according to the
Faribault'Leaffer, they do the handsomest
thing in the way of maniaga presents' in
Minnesota. The sheet describes' -a fash
ionable wading- and. says: , "After tho
ceremony, the friends presented the bride
with one dozen beautiful oranges, one
dozen, flue lemons, dye Pounds of now
figs, five pounds uploaded assorted =dies
awl six cans of. fresh oyaters."-.
VOLVME xxix, NUM E ER 14",
Household Purnitore.
The Evening.Pasi tnalFs some Peltil.
vent remarks - on taste in furnishing a
house. It -soya: "A - table 'need net .ba
merelya board to hold a hobk. Nor need
a chair be only a thing to sit upon. Every
object of household use may be a work of,
art, , combining beauty:of form with use,
fulness.ln f e n d llitind . " honsehold 'art la
largely Cultiva , but not so in this conn,
ty. 'What fools r sayi the practical Ameri
can 'business man,' who is willing enough
to spend his money, but demands quid
pip quo in genninebran new' furniWre
or carpets or china, in - which he can'see
cash value, independept of asscciatiou or
artiste effect., The same !practical' man.
will pay ten dollars for a bottle of WI/MOP
perhaps ten tbonsand dollars for a horse,
Had ha not better cease boasting - of "his
'common sense; and seriously compare hi&
taste and culture with -that of the
who pay huge prices for Sevres china-and , -
old_ furniture? , Mr. Gladstone, Prinso.
Minister of En . gland, has lectured upon .
'Ceramics; ' he is an ardent lover of p4l3`
and jugs,and has a-room filled pith choice'
Wcdgewood ware. Ho is only one among
thousands of superiormen who find ttixf
from work in these tastes," -
The beauty of Sidney Smith's sitylngi is.
in their constant freshness._ For instance
what he says of wit is as new and - true to- .
day as ever "When wit is combined with
the sense and information, when it is soft.
ened by benevolenca and restrained by
principle; when it , is in the hands of A
man.who can nse it and disguise it; who
can be witty, and something much better,
than witty ; who loves honor, justice, de
cency, good.natnre, morality and religion.'
ten thousand times better than wit,—wit ,
is then a beautiful and delightful part of,
our nature, There is no More Infuriating
spectacle than to see the effects of wit tip:
on the different characters of men; than'
to observe it expanding caution, relaxing
dignity, teaching ago and care and .pain
to smile, extorting reluctant gleams of
pleasure from melancholy, and charming
even the pabgs of grief. It is pleasant to
observe ho w it penetrates through the cold
ness and awkwardness of society, gradual
ly bringing men nearer together, mi t like
the computed force of wine and oil, giving
every Man a glad heart and a shining
countenance. Genuine arid innocent wit
like this is surely the flavor of the Wed.
If art means anything, if it is worth sop
thing, its mission is to refine. The paint.
er tele a story with his brush, and. the
sculptor with his chisel,just as the novel.
ist does with his pen. They are all artists,
and the pnrpose - of their art is the same.
If they are worthy, they tell us of some,
thing that refines the:feelings, cultivates
thi taste, points a- moral, or in some way
uplifts the man. When art is aught else
than this it is utterly bad, however ad:
mimbly it maybe wrought. The painter's
art is wronged when it is used only to ex
hibit skill, and doubly outraged when it
shocks the esthetic feeling it should eul.
tivate.—Heerth and Home.
—Hrs. Grant used to be very sociable,
easy in her manners,, with plenty of con
versation and a pleasant, unaffected wayof
speaking that was very winning.
perfect simplicity and freedem'of aint's
was very striking and always impressed'
those who,conversed with - her. favorably;
on the contrary , elm is stiff auk re
ticent,and wears an expression of haughti
ness which is as unbecoming as it is out of
piece. She was a great favorite with all
who - knew-her -two years ago ; now-tho
change in her man ner very generaltylet
marked and is commented upon unpleas,
antly. Mks Nellie, the only daughter, p o
a sweet-looking modest young girl of 111 V:
teen, who ip verylniet_and retiring.' She
is always present at her mother's - recep
tion, but takes a place io the backgronnu.
She rarely' gO4B to any entertainments
outside the White House, es she is still
under the care of a governess rind is too.
young to enter general society.—Boston.
. -
—A Frenchman writing to the Ginlois,
gives an account of his sensations while
hanging himself, which-may be of benefit
to persona of a suicidal (urn of mind, and
who would like to know "what the s thing
is like." As if preparing to hang up his
coat. he drove a nail into the wall, and
therefrom suspended him Self by a looped '
cord, which he fastened - around his, neck, •
and, then slowly kicked away his chair.—
from the crown of his head to the soles of
his feet a "general mixing up of the fluids
of - the body." This was succeeded by a
flashing, dancing light before his eyes,and
then concentrated at a single focus, and
thence rippled into space in eoncentrio
circles. His head seemed compressed in
an iron ring; needles without numtier
seemed la dart from the ends of his fin:
grey and toes; then there-was a terrible
snapping at the nape of his neck; and a
serpent seemed. to wrig,gle down his spine
His last sensation was one of pain at his
throat and shoulder blades. Ho' bat ex.
posted to wake up and find himself dead,
but kind—or unkind-4riends ant him
down. vt
—Some "new beginners" are_practising
on such specimens as these "Idow much
does a fool weigh generally t A 'imp!"
ton. In 'what cola;• should a secret be
kept ? In violet." • ,
—An ill-matured contemporary says
that Penns.ylranin should shake in her
Shoes, at the news of the'iscovery of cos)
in-Rhede Island; for,- should the same
p,pxe middling thicl4 entl nnderlie the.
wholaatate,the produce wed), bo its much
as seven bushels. -
A New Ilenipshire Itishmeribeeamek
frightened while being lowered into a deep,
well the other day, and cried out to, ea
men ahove that if they did not hut- bhn
up he'd cut the rope. „save[ the {off
tivy hauled him. up, ; ,
• —oan3ptoni /14-captured a bear re,
cently weighing BZ6 yonds, li:o"e:tract,
ed six. gallons of -hatroik fro:whine. _The.
papers In that vicinity speak, of do, "ex-,
traction" as it tbeyinal only ter tap: the,
animal to get at the hair Kef!ne4;,
scented and bottledt,
True en.