The Montrose Democrat. (Montrose, Pa.) 1849-1876, May 07, 1873, Image 1

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    THE MONTROSE DEMOCRAT.
VOLUME XXX.
E. B. HAWLEY & Co. , PrqepTietors.
Business Card&
1. & & iE AfeCOLLEIG,
Arrontrees sT
L. Offlea ores the Mink. Montrose
Pa. Montrose, May 10. 1871,
D. W. SEARLE,
A TTORNET AT LAW. once over the Store of U.
Da.uocr, to the Brick Block, Moat/ore. Pa. LAM
W, W. BIRTH,
CABIN= AND enAnt NANDPACTIIREMIL—too
alien meet, Montrose, Po. Saar. LIMO.
SUgTON,
Itectionter, and Insurance Agent,
iul SStt PriendyrUle, Pa.
• C. 2. - GILREBT,
Cr. Et. 49.‘1412114C01111eer.
augl 6:ltf , Great, fend. P.
AM! ELT,
11. M. gkotloaoor.
Ain. 1, leek. ' Address, Brooklyn. Pa.
JOHN GROVES,
ASIIIONA.DLE TAIIOII, Dlontrnee, Ps. Sbop over
Chandler's Store. All orders gilled In Orst-ratestyla.
Cutting done on short notice. and warranted %Ont.
J. F. SHOEMAKER,
Attorney lit Law, Montrose. Pa. °Mee next door to J
R. DeWitt's More, appoalte the tuna.
Montrose, Jan. n,1072.-003-17.
B. L BALDIVI.V,
Arronarr AT Law. Montrose, Pa Ofßea will, James
E. Cart:nail,. Ksq.
Montrose, August 30,181.tf.
•
A. 0. WARREN,
ATTORNEY A e LAW. Bounty, Bank Pay, Pension
and &nem • on Matins attended to. Ocoee dr
-.oar below Boyd's Store, Montrose. th. (An. L '69
W. A. CROSSMaN,
Atterney nt L. Office at the Court H0u..., 1■ the
Comminnioner's Office. W. A. Cage - saw,
Mum true". 'Scut MT. 1871.—a.
& CO.
1):.alero In tier -floods, Clothing. Ladies and Maser
Joe Shoe•. llpo, agents for the great American
Tea and Coffee Company. [Montrose. July :24
DI:. W. W. S.VITH,
Demur. Rooms at his 414/minor, next door east of the
ttepuhllotn print log ogler. ()Mee hours from 9♦. ■.
to 4 r. a. Montrose. 3day 3, 1671-4(
LAW OFFICE.
FITCH k WATSON, Attritheyr tt Lavr,•l the nla office
.4 hominy .t Fitch, Himtcht.c, Fa.
1' rtrcn. Pan. IL
J. SA UTTER.
FigIITONIBLE TAILOR. Shop over J. IL DeWitt's
•ters.
Moutroee Feb. 1916 1973.
ABEL TURREL.I
Paster In Dror*. Medicine., ettemiralr, Paints, 01Is,
Dye p.a.. Teas, Spire, Fancy 11...0d, Jeweirr. Per.
utaery. de.. Bllek Mock. Monti.. Pa, Pa. Estacilisbed
[Feb.
DR. IV. L. RICHARDSON,
PITRICIAN & SURGEON. tendert hi. professions
•oreleas to the citizen.. of Mow...a and etaluity.—
Mike at hhtruaidence, cc the comer clod of Sayre ac
Bros. PaitrldrY. f Anc.1.4140.
CHARLES N. STODDARIL
)salerin Boots and Shoat, Rats and Cape. Leal hsr
Finding., Vain :street. Ist door below Ltoyd - s Store.
Wort made to order. nod repairing done neatly.
Montrose. Jan. Is la 11.
LEIVLS' KNOLL
SITAVING AND HAIN. DRESSIND.
Shop lit the near Pa..lnce buildloe . whet. b. .111
ba tonnd ready to attend all who May sant a nythluy
in Ala line. Montt . ... Pa. Oct. 13. lap.
DR. S. W DA Fro
PIITSICIAN d SURGEON. tesder hip tn ,
the effisens of Great Rend nod el. lull). tllllce at his
teeltienee. trppoolle Bart.:lm native, WI Bend .111.&e.
Sept. Isl. 1151. M.— If
DR. I) A. LATHROP,
A isslulotere Mter run hare., at the Prot of
Chestnut street. Call and conselt In all Chronic
Diseases,
Montrose, Jan. 17.
CHARLEY MORRIS,
Tilt HAYTI RU:SER. has moved Ms shop to the
buntline occnpled by J. U. Dc Witt. where he Is pre
pared to do • , I kinds of work In Ms nee. such as ma
king switches. puffs. etc. All work done oa than
WPM* and prices lOW. Plexee call sad see me.
IL BITRITT.
Dealer du Staple and Fancy Dry Good.. Crocker). narff.
tram Iron, Store*, Dead, 011., and P.lnta, Boots
and Stores, flats and Cops, Fors, Buffalo Robes, (80ed...
ed... Provisions. •c.
New-Miltord, 1 a., Nor, 6, '72—tr.
EXCHANG'E MOTEL
D. k. MeCRACKF.7.I.I winhen to Inform thepohllethat
6a. the rented the Sechno:e Motel to Motatroor, he
In non , prepared to accommodate the traveling pobite
In Ornt.e.lano style
Montrone. Au:. 2I It
mu..13 - GsSTROUD.
FIRE AND TAPE CIEMIANCIR AGENT. AI!
bo.ine.s attended to promfo ly, on fair terms. Mee
first door east of the batik of Wm. 11. Cooper it Co.
bl le Menne, Montrose, Pa. [Age. 1.1 /MD.
Joly li , 187 t.) Drumm. Srsoun.
J. D. VAIL
PHTIMAN Aso Scutlema. Has permanently
located hinotelf to Montrone, Ps, where he will prompt
!) attend to all calla in his pmfeaalen with which he may
be favored. Mace and maidenly wort or the Court
Holum, mho. Fitch 6 Without's other.
Montrom. February P. MI.
F. CHURCHILL,
Jn.ttce of the Pcsee: oftice °Ter L R. Lcobelm'a !tom
(arra% Bend Suequchatins Connie. Pen's,
liaa the set lement of the dockets of the late bone
Itecbbow. deceased. Oboe hours/roma 9to 12 o'clock
■ ea . and from 1 to 4 o'clock p. m.
Great heed. Oct. 211.1572.
A 011ie cf; NICHOLS,
1 .“ Gab to billgr. 1141cluer, Chem!este.
Ltqaorg. Spices. Fancy
r , .rlea. Psc.nt 31.4Leinso. Partawaristia Toile Al',
111P"Pmarlptlaryk ouoiallr tomposinded.—
s 3,l c l c Rlosk. Itastraso,PL
A • U.• • kNOJI NUMMI.
V*. 41,13511.
Orr iikk lII.YDR OF
JOB PRINTING, ETC.,
nzvv,..„ .T. Tug
DEMOCRAT OFFICE,
TirriN EIDE or PUB.LIO AVESOL
Zile Ninfo goner.
mADitialAL.
—o—
BY ROWAIID otrytr.
—o—
robin-redbreast takes himself a mate ?
Say the birds, sing the birds, "It is wrong to
wait
Till the lily-footed t-pring glides In at Summer's
gate."
So II heard tho birds sing, once upon a day;
Oh, my treasure! Oh, my pleasure! Caust thou
say me nay
Birds' songs and bird? nest' and green boughs
together,
All gone ! love alone laughs at bitter weather,
Summer days, or winter days; little reeks Love
whether;
If so be that Love have his own, his darling
way,
Ab, my fairest! Ah, my rarest t .Canat thou ny
me nay?
In the wood thawlnd•ilower is sunken out of
sight,
Low down and deep down and world forgotten
quite,
Ent do you think the le:nd forgets that she was
sweet and white
Then listen to his sad voice a little while I
firri9
0, my cruel! 0, my jewel! Clnst thou say me
nay?
The sun stole to a will rose and wiled her leaves
apart;'
May dew and Juno air had wooed her at the
start;
lint was't not fair the-sun should have hat gold
en perfect heart I
Let toe choose one short word for timid lips to
say
Alt, me precious! My delicious It shall not
Le nay !
—Atlantic Monthly
MART'S DREAM.
—a—
They parted in tears at the shining bay.
And her heart was sad and her cyes were
dim ;
And het love seas gone for a year and a day,
And she looked o'er the waves and prayed for
him
And still she heard by the land or the le
The wail of the moaning sett.
She dreamed that she sea late one stormy
night,
When the h Ilows were high and the wind
• was loud.
he ship was losing, the wsyss were white,
And the black. hull seemed like a drifting
shniud ;
The sun shone out on the morrow morn,
And Mary went down to thy quiet shore,
l'o see her lover all white and torn,
And kiss the lips that would speak no more,
And still slm hears he the land or the lea
The wail of the moaning sea.
iThe ffitorg
MR. BO‘SALL'S 31ATC11131AKING
My uncle, Alexander M'Farlane, was
waiting breakfast, an event very uncom
mon with him, for Aunt Nancy wits the
soul of punctuality. Nevertheless she
was a little late this morning. Eight
o'clock was the breuktod hour, and it was
now fully ten minutes past.
Aunt 'Saucy was not my Uncle M'Far
lane's wily. he was a widower of some
fifteen years' standing. Fifteen years be
fore his wife had left him a delicate little
boy for a 10-cps:lke, told had gone away,
whispering with her last breath that she
was very happy. Ilvr mother and „sister
who haul collie to the house to nurse her,
after her death, according to
ruck lirKirlane's particular request.—
He would be so glad, he said, if it were
not exacting too notch of a sacrifice, to
have Mrs. 'lowan] and Nancy stay with
him, keep up his house. and attend to h:s
little boy. So Mrs. Howard, who was a
widow with a vary straitened income,
rented her little house in the New E.,g
land village where she had always lived,
and came to preside over Mr. M'Farlane's
spacious mansion and liberal housekeep
ing in Greenwich street, New York—my
Uncle M'Farlane lived in Greenwich
street, a fact which marks the date of my
story with sufficient exactness.
Mrs. Howard had been dead three months
and still Aunt Nancy presided over Uncle
M'Farlane's household. Neither of them
had ever thought of a change as either
necessary or desirable. Nancy had been
a fair, pram. and somewhat quiet girl
when she came to live in Greenwich street.
She was_still a fair, somewhat prim wo
man of thirty-five. with pretty,soft 'arown
hair, violet tjue eyes, and a pure soft.
somewhat changeful complexion. She
was not in the least like a modern young
lady's heroine. She bad no particular
aspirations beyond the limited and old
fashioned one of doing her duty in that
state of life to which it had pleased God
to call her. She did not consider her
self a martyr to uncongenial 'circum
stances, because she made Uncle M'Far
lane's shirts and mended his stockings,
and even the fact of going down into Vie
kitchen, to do up his iminacifite ruflt-s,
when old Mrs. Brown's hands were too
lame, rod the chaimbermaid's too un
skillful to be trusted with,did not awaken
in her mind any desire to rush out into
the world in search of a career. No such
fancy had ever entered Nancy Howard's
head. She was absolutely "contented
with her present condition. willing to
goon making Uncle M'Farlane's shirts.
keeping his house, spoiling his child, and
"making it pleasant for him," as she
simply said. Her great pleasures con
sisted in doing muslin, embroidery, visit
ing the poor, going to church, and read
ing the English classics, with now and
then s novel if she had any trials she
kept them to herself, confiding them to
no spiritual director, newspaper editor,
or female friend. Such was Nancy How
ard at five-and-thirty.
My Uncle M'Farlane was a fine gentle
man in the true sense of the phrase. He
was unimpeachable id integrity, unspotted
in morals, ID matmersubsolutelyperfect—
a little set in his, ways and possibly some
what particular in eating and drinkin g . o He
was also given to amuseing himself in a
quiet way with the peculiarities of those
about him. But be never wellingly hurt
or neglected any-one. and he had a certairr
cenitil graciousness of manner, which
made all his employees, from Mr- Saun
ders, his confidential clerk, down ao Black
Sam, the carman, and Davy, the errand
boy, feel the better when he spoke to
them. .
."Miss Nancy is a little late this morn-.
lug!" observed Uncle M'Farlane, • as
"TRUTH AND RIGHT : GOD AND OUR COUNTRY."
MONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 7, 1873.
Brown, his man, brought him the pa
per.
"Yes, sir. She was out till after twelve
last night, at Sam's, sir!"
"Indeed I How was that ?"
"Well, vm see, sir, Sam's girl was took
with a quick consumption last spring,
and his wife ain't very rugged either.—
Miss Nanny, she's been there a good deal,
and when Busy was struck with death
last evening, she sends for her. So Miss
Nancy, she went and stayed till it was all
over. It a great comfort to them, sir.
Yon see Sam's wife,she's got a little young
baby, 04 and altogether it comes hard !"
shonld.say so, indeed. We must see
that everything is done, Brown. Find
out when the funeral is to be, and let me
know, and tell your wife to send them
something comfortable when she goes to
market. But here comes Miss Nancy.—
Scud utibreakfast, Brown."
Breakfast was usually a somewhat si
lent meal, sate for Alick's chatter with
his aunt; for Mr. M'Flarlane always read
theitape,r, invariably asking Miss Nancy's
permission.
"Whit do you look at me so closely,
Alick ?" asked Miss Naincy,as she caught
her uewhew's gaze fixed upon her.
"I was thinking how pretty you are!"
answered Alick, with his usual frankness
"I think you are a hundred times pret
tier than Miss Regina Schuyler, that 'hey
make such a fuss about. And I don't
Want her for a stepmother. So there!"
"What is that about Miss Schuyler ?"
asked my Uncle, laying down his parr.
"It strikes me that you are taking rather
a liberty with that young lady—to say
nothing or myself."
"It wasn't me, father; it was Mr. Bon-
sail," answered Alick. Bonsall asked
me if I wouldn't like a pretty young lady
like Miss Regina Schuyler to come into
the house; and I told him no—l didn't
want any one but Aunt Nancy. Then
he said Aunt Nancy was an old maid;
and I said, if she was forty old maids she
was a hundred times prettier than Miss
Regina—and so she is!"
"We won't discuss that matter!" said
my uncle, annoyed, but repressing his
annoyance, as usual. "You need not
mind Mr. BousalL We all know his
waver,
There was something in his father's
tone which made Mick aware that h.•
hail better drop the subj cL Uncle
SlTarlane went on with his paper, but
now and then glanced over it with an
expression of some interest. "Nancy is
pretty rhe said to himself. "There is
something in her face which reminds me
of my mother."
Breakfast. bring over, my wick put on
his overcoat, asking, as he did so, his in
variable question, `•have you any com
mands for the city?"
"And,by the way, please see that every
thing is done for Sum's family. The pour
woman will perhaps be the better for
some port wine, or ale, and let everything
be nice about the funeral. I will take
the expense on myself. Sam is a good
faithful fellow."
"Really Nancy is very pretty r said
rap uncle, us he walked out of the house.
"1 never thought, much about it before,
but she is dkidely pretty. Miss Regina
Schuyler, indeed, Really Bousall is too
bad to put snch notions Into the boy's
head." And Mr. M'Farlane pursued
his way to the office, unconscious of the
fate awaiting hint there.
"Any letters, Saunders?" he asked, as
he passed the clerk's desk. "I see the
packet is in."
"Yes, sir. They are on your desk. and
Mr. Bonsai] is waiting to speak .to you
in your room. What ads Mr. MTarlaran ?"
said the clerk to himself, as his principal
passed on. "I don't bdiece'he ever be
fore forgot to ask for my wife. I hope
nothing is wrong." Mr. S.tunders had
uti invalid wife, who was indebted to Mr.
31 - Tarlane fur many little comforts.
Mr. Bonsall was waiting in the office.
lie wet a stout man, with red hair and
whiskers, and a bluff, uncompromising
manner. Ile had a habit, on which he
prided himself, of always "speaking his
mind"—that is. of saying everything and
anything which came into his head—a
habit which did not cause him to be be
loved by his acquainteuace. He and un
cle MTarlane had once been partners.
and they still kept up a kind of intamacy
at which many people wondered.
"Well, Bonsai), how goes the world
with von?" asked my uncle, leisurely
taking off his coat and overshoes.
"Oh, well enough. If it dou't go to
suit me, I make it, that's all!" answered
Mr. Bonsai]. "But, see here, bl'Farlane,
I don't come to bandy complimenti.
want to talk to you abdht a serious mat
ter."
"Well, what is it ?" asked my uncle,
preparing to listen, not without a long
ing glance at his foreign letters and pa
pers.
"I'm going to speak my mind, as I al
ways do :" said Mr. Bonsall. "I want. to
know what you mean to do about Nan
c e
y
"About Nancy."" repeated my uncle,
with a little start.". "What about Nan
cy?"
"Aye, what about her ?—that's just it.
Of course you can't go on as you do now.
It was well enough when the old lady
was alive;
but her death changes all
that, and folks will talk. Nancy's an old
maid. to be sure—forty, if she's au
hour—"
"Thirty-five!" said my uncle, correct
ing him.
"Well, five years don't matter mach.—
She's an old maid, as I said. Still, folks
will and do talk, and ypu ought to 'get
rid of her. The troth is, M'Furlane, you
ought to marry again ; and of course you
can't with Nancy in the house."
"You think so ?"
"Why, of course, not. There's Miss Re
gina Schuyler, now. She'd jump at the
chance of matryir.g you; but you don't
suppose sho would set up housekeeping
with Nancy Howard, do your
"I must beg, Bonsai!, that you will not
hring Miss Schuyler's name into ques
tion." said my uncle. "Such liberties are
not to be taken with respectable young
ladies." •
"Liberty or not, she would have you in
a minute. And •there's another thing
about it. Nancy 'Howard is dead m love
with you herself, nod of course you can't
marry her—that is out of the question'
"Nancy Howard t" repeated my uncle,
in a tone of bewilderment
"To be sure, man. Any one but you
would have seen it, though Nancy is not
the Woman to throw herself at any man's
head, I'll say that for her. My wife has
known it this long time, and I can see it,
too. Of course you can't marry her.—
She is old, ana poor, and plain, and in
delicate health besides. So, of course, all
you can do is to get rid of her. Send her
home to her native place with a pension,
marry Regina Schuyler, and begin life
anew."
"Does Mrs. Bonsall really think that—
that Miss Howard entertains such senti
ments?" asked my uncle, as Mr. Bon
sall paused a moment. "Women see
such things more clearly than men."
"Of course she does. She was talking
of it last night. 'Nancy ought to have a
change,' says she ; `if she don't she'll go
otf like her sister. She's a quiet, patient
creature,' says shs ; 'but it is easy to see
what ails her.' Now, you see, her being
consumptive is another reason why you
can't marry her. So, there! I've spoken
my mind, as I always do, and I hope yon
will have sense enough to act upon
it."
"I shall certainly act upon it !" said my
uncle calmly.
"And soon, I hope!" said Mr. Bonsall,
rising. "The sooner the better."
"The sooner the better 1" echoed my
uncle. "I quite agree with you. Thank
you; Bonsai', thank' you!"
"I think I did a wood piece of work
this morning!" said Mr. Bonsall to his
wife, as he was preparing to go out; "I
spoke to M'Furlane about Nancy !" And
he repeated the substance of the conversa
tion. Mrs. Bonsail was a quiet, kind
hearted woman; but, like her husdand.
she sometimes spoke her mind. She did
so on this orcasion.
"Bonsall, you are an idiot! Most men
are,in such matters, and you arc a perfect
one.
Mr. Bonsall looked as if some one had
thrown a wet towel in his face. "Why,
Mary Anne! What's that for ?"
"You'll find out soon enough. Go along
do, and leave me in peace."
Mr. Bonsall was always very meek when
his wife took these rare fits of plain
speaking., and he shut the door without
another word. Mrs. Bonsall sxt looking
at the tire with an expression of vexstion
which gradually changed to one of kind
ness.
"After all it mght be worse," said she,
speaking to the tire. "Nancy issii good
soul, and as sweet as honey. She will
make him happy, and be happy herself,
and it will be good for the boy. Bat I
think I see uonsall's face when he hears
of it!"
Fur tit° hours my uncle sat looking
through 'lie office window without oven
thinking of his letters. Then he drew, a
deep breath, as of one relieved of a doubt,
andlurned to his correspondence. lle did
not go home to dinner, but left the office
early, stopping at a florist's where he
bought some ?eauiful hot 110118 C flowers,
and two nice hyacinth bulbs in pretty
0116z:es, nhich last he sent to Mrs. Saun
ders.
•'Father. may I go up and see Tom
Saunders?" asked Alice after tea. And
Sauey was sitting :it her work table, fresh
and neat from top to te. She was com
posed as usual, but my uncle fancied he
observed a slight change in her manner
towards himself. Probably Allele remarks
might disturb her a little.
"Certainly, my son. And be sure to
ask, particularly, how Mrs. Saunders finds
herself. I quite forgot it all this morn
ing. I was the more ready to let Alick
go t s I wish to consult you on a matter
of great importance to us both." And
then, in his usual kind, somewhat formal
manner, he opened the isuiljrct. Ile was
desirous, he said, of going abroad for
some time, perhaps for years. Ile thought
the change would be good for Alick who
showed signs of delicate lungs.
Aunt Nancy's heart fluttered, and her
color went and came ; but she had long
been schooled in self control, and she
made no other Sign. "It won't be for
long!" said the quiet, breaking heart to
itself, little guessing what was in store.
My uncle continued. I don't know
exactly how he worded it, but he made it
plain that neither he nor the boy could
live without Nancy. Would Nancy con
sent to become his wife, mid be a mother
to Alick in fact, as she had long been in
name? And so in an Lour the matter
was all settled
"We are asked to a wedding !" said
Mrs. flonsall to her husband some six
weeks afterward.
"A wedding—whose wedding ?" asked
Mr. Bonsall. not greatly interested.
"Nancy Howard's!"
"Nancy Howard's—yon dent mean—"
The idea which occured to Mr. Bonsai!
fairly struck him dumb.
"tes; Nancy and M'Farlane!" an
awered his wife, enjoying her lord's dis
comfitore. "They nre to be married a
St. Paul's, very quietly, and sail for Eu
rope as soon as possidle."
"The deuce they are. And after all I
said to him!"
"After all ynn said to him!" echoed
Mrs. Bonsall. "The moment you told mo
what you said to him,ane especially as to
Nancy's being talked abont, I knew you
had made the match. You could have
got him to marry old Miss Paget in the
same way."
• "But such n sacrifice. Mary Anne!"
"Oh, well, I don't know. I dare say he
might feel it a little of a sacrifice just at
first ; bnt by this time he has persuaded
himself that then, never was such a wo
man, and that the favor was all on her
side. I don't think, for my part, Bl'Far
lane will over regret it."
And I don't think Uncle M'Farlarii
ever did.—From the Aldine for. May.
Tag Lutheran Sunday School of
Mifllintown, Pa., has thrown out of its
library all such books as are commonly
termed "Sunday School novels," and the
managers of the school express their de
termination to buy no more books of that
character for their library, believeing the
reading of such books by the young to be
an injury to them rather than a- bene
fit.
Pious Eccentricities.
——o—
The Fulton street prayer meeting is
certainly the people's institution, and very
many of them have unbounded faith in
its efficacy. Among the written requests
sent to the last meeting was this: "Pray
God to give me means to make a living
for myself and family." Another reques
ted prayer "for a blasphemer." Another
"for a young man in this city who is was
ting his snbstauce in riotous living." A
sincere "sister" wrote the following: "I
ask your provers to know how toserve God
and do good to my fellow man." An
anxious sinner" wrote : "Pray for me. I
have asked yoh to do it two orthree times
before, but your prayers . have not been
answered thus far. I have refused to give
my heart to Jesus so many times that I
am now afraid I shall be ruined forever.
If I wait any longer I shall surely be
lost. ,But if I tu to be a Christian, it
cannot possibly be ally worse for me, and
I may perhaps be saved. Won't you pray
for me until Inm a Christian? Another
wrote : "Pray that our pastor may be re
moved from us. Ile has broken up our
little band, and we are a scattered flock."
A tempted sister wrote: "A minister's
wife, away from her husband and little
ones. fears that while she has taught oth
ers the plan of salvation she will herself
be a castaway. If this fear be a delusion
of the tempter, pray that her misgivings
be taken away, and she may be able to
return to her family rejoicing." Another
wrote: Please pray that all my backslid.'
ings may be forgiven. lam in great dis
tress of mind on account of my sins. Oh,
do earnestly pray that to-day, now, this
present hour, I may find joy in Jesus."—
Occasionally the proceedings border on
the ridiculous. One speaker, for instance,
asked the congregation to congratulate
him. lie had "been to Washington, that
sink of iniquity, and got back alive."
Suspected the Lawyer
-=o—
The,lacv provides a defender for every
arraigned criminal, no matter how well
known his crime, but it will not do for
a bad man's counselor to try to make his
crime a joke, and try to ridicule it out of
court. Socha course fairly leaves the law
yer himself open to distrust.
Counselor Higgins, of the State of —,
was exceedingly adroit in defending a
prisnor, and would sometimes laugh down
on inditme u t fora small offense. ,A fellow
being on trial for stealing a turkey, the
the c .unselor attempted to give a good
humored turn to the affair. "Why, gen
tlemen of the jury," said he, "this is real
ly a very small affair. I wonder any one
could bring such a complaint into. court.
If we are going on at this rate, we shall
have business enough on our hands.
Higgins then alluded to the "foraging
exp,..ditions, of his college days, and the
boys thought it no harm to take poultry
here and there once in a while when they
wanted a sly supply. But not with
standing this appeal, the jury convicted
the prisoLer.
After the Court arose, one or the
jury—a pluin old farmer—meeting the
counselor, complimented him ou his in
genuity.
"And now, 'Squire" said he, thing a
rather knowing look upon him, "I should
like to u:ik you one question: Which
road du you take in going home—the
upper or the lower one ?"
"The lower," said the counselor.
"Well, then, it's no matter. I only
wanted to ohsery that it you were going
my way, I would just jog on before you
and lock up my hen-house."
Pickpockets
—o—
Ttte New York Tribune of Tuesday
contains the following considerate note
from a pickpocket:
To Me Editor of .The Tribune :
Stu:—Please advise your readers al
ways to leave their names and addresses
in their pocket books. It frequently hap
pens in our business that we come in
possession of porte mutinies containing
private papers and photographs which
we would be glad to return, but we have
no means of doing Sr. It is dangerous
to carry them about—so we are forced to
destroy them. I remember an instance
where I met with serious trouble because
I could not make up my mind to destroy
a picture of a baby which I had found in
the pocket book of a gentleman which
came into my hands in the way . of busi
ness on the Third avenue road. I had
lost a baby myself, the year before, of the
same age as this one, and I would have
given all I had for such a picture. There
was no name in the porte moonaie,
and no way of finding out who was the
owner, so like a fool I advertised it and
got shadowed fur it by the police. Tell
your readers to give us a fair show to be
decent—and always leave their addresses
in their pocket books. We want to live
and let live. Yours, truly,
A PICKPOCKET
•.----
Kor'n You'll Keep.
Some years ago, an old sign painter,
who was very cross, very gruff and a lit
tle deaf,was engaged to plaint the ten Com
mandments on some tables in a church
not five miles from Buffalo. Be worked
two days at it, and at the end of the sec
ond day , the pester of the chinch went
to see how the work Progressed. The old
man stood by smoking a short pipe,. as
the reverend gentleman-ran his eyes over
the tablets.
"Eh I" said the pastor, as his familiar
eve detected something wrong in the
working of the precepts "why you cat
less old person, you have left part of the
commandments entirely out; do you not
see ?"
"No, such - thing," said the old man,
patting on his spectacles ; "no, nothing
eft but, where?" 'WhY, there," persisted'
the pastor; look at them in the Bible,
you have left some of the cominand
ments entirelyout." • -
"Well, what if I have ?" said old ob;:
stinancy,-as he ran ,his eyes ..completely
over his work.. "There' more there now
than you'll keep!" ,
Another and more .correct artist was
employed the next day. •
PAIIIPUL suspense—Hanging.
~
j T DOLLARS PERTEAR IN ADVANCE; :
Terms/IF NU T PAID IN ADVANCE. 60 cTs. Exrig4,
flow lie Saved St. Nlfeline's.
-0-
DT .VILS. H. L. P. OTAISBDUAY.
-0-
So you beg fora, story, my darling—my brown
eyed Leopold—
And you, Alice, with face like morning, and
curling locks of gold;
Thai come, if you will, and listen—stand close
beside my knee—
To a talc of the southern city, proud. Cbrieston
by the sea.
It was long ego, my children, ere ever the sig
nal gun
That blazed aboverort Sumter had awakened
the north as one;
Long ere the wondrous pillar of battle cloud
and tire
Had marked where the unchanged millions
marched on to their heart desire.
On the roofs and the glittering turrets, that
night, as the sun went down,
The mellow glow of the twilight shown like n
jeweled crown,
And. bathed iu the living glory, as the people
lifted their eves
They saw the pride of the city. the spire of St.
Michael's rise.
High over the lesser steeples, tipped with a
golden hall.
That hung like a radiant planet caught la its
earthward fall,
First glimpse of home to the sailor who made
the harbor-round,
And last slow fading vision dear to the out
ward bound.
The gently gathering shadows shut out the
waning light ;
The children prayed at their bettsulm, as you
will pray to-night ;
The poise of buyer and seller from the busy
mart was gone,
And in dreams of a peaceful morrow, the city
slumbered on.
But another light titan sunrise aroused the sleep•
ing street,
For a cry was heard at midnight and the rush
of. trampling teet ;
Men stared in each other's faces through min
gled tire and smoke,
While the frantic hells went clashing clamorous
♦troke on stroke!
By the glare of her blazing roof-tree the house
less mother tied,
With the babe she pressed on her bosom shriek
ing in nameless drtmd—
While the fire king's wild battalions sealed
wall and cap-stone high,
And planted their flaring banners against an
inky sky.
From the death that raged behind them and the
crash of ruin loud,
To the great square of the city, were driven the
surging crowd,
Where yet firm in all the tumult, unscathed by
the fiery flood,
With its heavenward-pointing finger the church
of St. Michael stood.
But e'en as they gazed upon it, there rose a
sudden wail,
A cry of horror blended with the roaring of the
gale,
On whose scorching wings updriven, a single
flaming band
Aloft on the towering steeple clung like a
bleodthand.
"Will it fade ?" The whisper trembled from a
- thousand trembling lips,
Far out on the lurid harbor they watched it
front the ships--
A baleful gleam that brighter and ever brighter
shond
Like a flickering, trembling Wlll4-Wisp .to a
steady beacon gown.
"Uncounted gold shall be given to tha man
whose brave right hand,
For'the love of the periled city, plucks down
yon burning brand!"
So cried the mayor of Charleston, that all the
people heard.
But they looked each one at his fellow, and no
man spoke a word.
Who is it leans from the belfry, with face up
turned to the sky
Clings to a column and measure the dizzy spire
with his eye?
Will he dare it, the hero unanunted, that terri
ble, sickening bright?
Or will the hot blood of his courage freeze in
his veins at the sight!
But see! he lies stepped on the railing, he
climbs with his feet and his hands,
And firm on a narrow projection wall the hal
fry beneath him he stands
Now once, and once only, they cheer him—a
single tempestuous breath—
And there falls on the multitude gazing a hush
like the stillness of death.
Slow. steadily mounting, unheeding aught save
the goal of the tire,
Still higher and higher, an atom, he moves on
the face of the spire.
Ile stops ! 'Will ho fall? Lot for answer, a gleam
like a meteor's track.
And hurled on the stones of the pavement, the
red luand lies shattered and black!
Once more the shoots of the people have rent
the quivenn,g air,
At the church door mayor and council wait
with their feet on the stair—
And the eager throng behind them press tor a
touch of his hand—
The unknown savior whose darling could com
pass a deal so grand.
But why does a -sudden tremor seize on them
while they gaze?
And what meamith that stilled mumur of won
• der and amaze?
Us eton4.l in the gate of the temple he had per
iled his life to save,
Mad the Nee of the hero, !iv children, was the
sable face of a slave t
With tolled arm he was speaking, in tones that
were clear, not loud,
And his eyes ablaze in their sockets burnt into
the eyes of the crowd ;
"You may keep your gold—l scorn it—but an
swer me, ye who can,
If the deed I have done before you be not the
deed of a inanr
lle stepped but a short space backward, and
from all the women and men
There were only sobs tor answer, and the may
or called fir n pen,
And the great seal ;of the city, that he might
read who run ; - -
And the slave who saved St. Midges went out
from its door a man.
—Aldine fur May.
UNLESS all the old-time predictions in
regard to the coming crops prove false we
shall have a wonderfully bountiful season
not only for fruits,but fcr cereal products.
The winter has been remarkably favor
able for the 'grain, and the knit prophets
predict such a supply of apples, peaches,
strawberries, etc., as will ont rival any sea
son for twenty-five pare past.
A WASP, with ageltow bustle, is no in
signifibant agent in dispersing a crowd
but a nervous woman making through
a crowd with a valise in one hand and un
umbrella-in tho other, is ahont us tip
palling an object as Slie human mind can
,conceive and maintain its balance.—Dan
bury .21'eFs • . ,
GoLoshosto; N. C., is entranced by
tho oratory-of a colored clergyttinnaii-j-
NUMBER. 7 9,
Odds and Ends.
——o—
A YOUNG woman in Portiandloat . ber
heart the other day—but can't remember
whether she lost it in church or at the
theatre.
Tun late George A. Clark, of Paisley.
England, the thread maker, left. $lOO,OOO
to hid native town for building a 'tottn
hall, and $lOO,OOO to Glasgow Universi
ty. -
A SAN FRANCWO flrm bas contracted
with parties in Providence_ for :twenty
eight car loads of oysters of various ages,
which are to bo transported in Pacific
waters.'
Wile:: you see a horse start off for EL
walk, shout "whoa?" at the top of your
voice, and flourish your hat nnd handker
chief, it soothes and tranquilizes his feel
ings amazingly.
"How is it," asked an enthusiastic
English nobleman of a Polish refugee of
high rank, "that you regard. your coun
try's misfortunes with such stoical indif
ference "You quire mistake me," - was.
the reply; "I have married a Russian la
dy, and am doing my best to make her
miserable."
Two Dartmouth students were put off
a train on the. Grand Trunk Railway for
insisting upon riding on tickets the day
after their date, marked "Good for this
tmiu•only." The ejected persons brought
suits fur damages against the cohductor.
and one of them has recovered $l5O.
A LITTLE Concord chap; wholived next
door to Emerson, was engaged ode &yin
digging a bole by the roadside. A world
ly trifler, passing by, asked him, "What
are you digging after little boy? With
glee, gravity he answered, "After the In
finite."
THE roof of Westminter Abbey, in
London, Tong supposed to be of oak,
when recently examined as to its sound
ness and found to be perfect, was at the
same time discovered to be chestnut. It
has stood for eight centuries already.
"I wonder what causes the eyes of
young men of the present day to be so
weak ?" said a young town lady to ticoun
try aunt, who was reading the "Pilgrim's
Progress" in the smallest type without
barneys. "My dear," was the tart re
sponse, "the ewe of young men are in the
weakest part."
A STORY is told of a French gentle
man, who having lost the bulk of ids
property through the rascalities Of friends
in whom he trusted, lost his mental bal
ance, and for the remainder of his day!
found his only delight in riding in omm.
buses and passing fares from passengers
to the driver, taking care whe4chan,ged
to add to it a son or two from his own
pocket and watch the effect on the receiv
er. In nine eases out of ten, as the store
goes, the passenger, counting over his
change and finding as' he supposed that
the driver had cheated himself, would
look bewildered for a moment and then
pocket the change with a quiet chuckle.
Nor long ago the old hippopotamus at
the London Zoological Gardens suffered
much from a decayed tooth. In former
times he would have been shot, as was
poor "Chance," the elephant at Exter
'change. Mr. Bartlett, superintendent
of the Garden, however, determined to
pull out the tooth. He ordered the
blacksmith to make a pair of "tooth
forceps." and a tremendous pair they
were. The "bite" of the forceps just
fitted the tooth of the hippo. By skill
ful management Bartlett managed to
seize Master Hippo's tooth as he put his
head through the bars. The hippo, roar-
Inc frightfully, pulled one way, Bartlett
and the keepers pulled the other, and at
last out came the tooth, and, Hippo soon
got well again.
Religious Notes. --
-0—
TIIEY reserved seats at the re.
vivid meetings . in Denver, Colorado.
THERE arc 35 comity townships in North
Carolina without a Baptiat house of wor
ship.
Porn hundred conversions have taken
place in Plainfield, New Jersey, since the
opening of the year 1873.
THE Rev. W. W. Ileberton, has accept
ed the call to the I'resbyterian Church in
Elkton, Md.
TILE records still show more than .800
Presbyterian and 175, congregationa
clergymen without pastores. ,
Tin Irish Evangaixt reports numerous
revivals in Ireland, the first extensive.
awakening since 1858.
TII E: Presbyterians in the United States
average ninety-eight communicants to It
church.
A 31 im , ionist camp meeting i 8 to be
held this Spring nt Cedar Lake,lfichigaU;
tenle for five thousand .pcoplo aro to bo
provided.
Tuz Episcopal Church has now seven
missionary Bishops and 215 other mis
sionaries equally distributed in the South
and West.
THE Baptista oflouisrille, Ky, beve
organized a committee of women to la
bor for the eva igelization of the German
population of that city.
A Panticn.spenking . Presbyterian
church was organized in •Brooklyn on the
9th inst., at which forty members were
received by letters and on confession.
Over 2,000 children arc in dm Ameri
can Methodid,Sabbath school in Sweden.
India has 1,600 3lethOdist Sabbath echon)
oho:ars-800d them in Lucknow.
RElf. C. C. Thtizey, of Billerica, Mon,
besng sick lest Buildup his daughter r6ll
a sermon and otherwise 'assisted' in the
pulpit service.
I• Tns observance of Lent this year . has
been much more general and devout than
ever, and some f the special services
have been attended with grout interest.
. Ray. IL A. Hough, -:a Methodist,
minister of Wilton, Vt., broke,
promise to a yarn% woman, and tho con: 1
fesince suspend( d him from the...mit:lit/.
or Invhcele4esir. -- • •