- - - • - .L 7; ' _F' '" THE• VOLUME XXX. E. B HAWLEY & Co., Proprietors. Business Cards. J. R d A. 11. .IIeCOLLU.V. A TTORVETO LAW OElm over On Rank, Montrovo Pe. Mularrwe, May 10. 1071. tf D. IV. gEARLE, A rTORNEY AT LAW. of oeer the Store of M. 11.1A5uuer, In the Brick Block, liontrore. Pa. Caul 0) W W. smmi, CABINET AND CHAIR MANUFACTIIIIIIRI3,-Poot of Moth greet. Montrose. Pa. lang. 1. 1869. M. C. BUTTON, Auctioneer, and Insurance Agent, avt Off Frlendeville. Pa. C. S. GILBERT Q. 8. .4filizeticazacoor. angl calf Great Bead. Pa A .VI ELY; Cr. 19. 496.N.a.aticorLoor. Aur. 1. Mi. Addres,, Brooklyn, Pa.. JOLLY GROVES, F tntIIONABLE TAM3R, llontroan, Pa. Strop over l'h.ndler'e Store. APonlete atkd In dadeatestra. • urt inn done on Short pollee. and warranted to dt.. J. F. SIIO EVA E'ER, oroe• wt Law. Mootm•o. Office next door to D r Wl,l ,toor, oppo-1.0 Ate b+ok. IlLtutrone, Jan..—nu:-Iy. B. L. BALDWIN, • Al - T.I;IIST AT Law. MOITUTITO, Pa Ofd with ilia. E t.aneait. Fag. lontivoe. August 30, IPn. tL d. 0. IVARREY. ATTORNEY A LAW. Bounty, Back Pay. Pension And Exe7ri ao Claims attended to. Office Or 1. r beloW Boyd's Store. Hootrose.Pa. (Au. 1.'69 W. A. CROSBIION, A Itnrll, at Lao. Cake at the Court lions.. lo the ..inner'. ()Mee. A.Coototatos. Mon tnm. , SenL .Or KENZIE. 4. CO. er. in Dry Goods, Clothing, Ladies god Slim, 'One, kis°. agent. , for the great America. , Tea and Cotrue Company. (Montrose, July 17. It] WI W. 8.1f1711, Dervrio• Room. at [do dwelling, next door esti of the N. priuling ernes. Office horn from OA. 1. , 4 r a, Montroiw.ll4 3, 1031—tr LA W OF.FICE. t IT , It Ir 11 , 0 C, Attornera at Law, at am old fatlice a: Ibmu•p Fitch. Wontro.o. Pa. L r raftl. ',Jut. !L ILL V. V. J. B_l UTTER, F %RIX TAILOR. Slbtop wror J. it. DeWitt', ABEL TURRELL, e Lr In D-n.r , . Cla• mica], Paint.. 011 r, - , ..1T•. Faucy D..ud Jevelry, P.. , irk moutr. :>, (Fri/. I, 1:111. Dit W. L. RICILtRDSON, r •WHOVIN, tarrt•cr , db protev.lono •ttrvlce. 1.. the r•lttzetin of Moattrove mad al. - Inlay.- 0.11.. at 11, ....Ova., on IGO comer espl of Sayre • flatt• Fo.uudri. • I Actg. I. Ir•GS. CHARLES N. STODDARD ri In Bow. , and %hots. flat. and Caps. Leath,.Taw e kl Main I.t door rains Store :4 wade t.. drl..r. and repairing done unatt.y. Hvg.truse. Jan. I. 11470. LE lag A - .2voLi„ BRAVING AND BAIR DRESSING. S , op In the new PoetoMre hnilAitoo. where be wo fo,od ready to Attend all ten° w..ey wool 111,.h0n 14'1;4 I.e. llualrwee Pa. Oct. 13. 1.w19. DR..v. W DA YTON 7 . 45,1 , 1111 ht - HGVON, troder h$ servir,-, 'irls,v. of ,:re-At Ilena r.nd ri• lolly. 1.113 re nt t., :deuce, op,o.ite Baru am fArUd 1! , 69. - If Di D A. .11.17111:0P. TLIVIII•t. Urn, at the Foot of greet. C. 11! auA coaralt Itt ail Chronle s•e•. OEM= monam, Tr!`". H STTI HFIER, hay mowed hit .hop to ttir , 1:11or 0, op , ed by a. H DeWitt, whYre be 1* pre p wed In It.. n I Linde nr nark in 01.1inn.rnal11010*. .arin-bea., pots etc. All sorb done oa !Mort , ce and idiom low. Plate eall and et.- me. 11: BCRIUTT -nd F.ran Dt r enorkerr. H 3rll t • Iron. Ora ;,. Oil-. P A . Yard, Hobc. Gro- EXCHANGE HOTEL, ID A tIeCRAMEN. veivhes to Inform theputelle that tu. In; meted the Ezeherkfre Itotel to tioutrove, he ox pre? tret to ateJaviLhitle the travelleg pobEc In (trot +dap. nty 11 , Mouins.e, Aug. 23. BILLLY GS STROUD. FIR@ AND . UPE 17:37aANCIC ACENT. Ai! ha•int•patletided topromalJ. on ft& terms. °Gee .t floor cam. 4 the bank wr Wm. 11. C.^P's k Co. nr I t Montrose, PA. [Aar 1,11115 D. Joy 17.11575. J azi.LfAcis brawn.. J. D. TAIL. 1.0 trip time Perreitiew web Srcozow. Tito tierwehehtlY eeted bluve,lf he 11lc:retro,. Pa . where he win peeMPt et teed to an mite let DP peofeeelon withorhteh be =my he fevered. °Mee and residence west of the Coon thwoe, near Fitch & Wathson'e office. Montrose. PetwiteiTt en. F. CHURCHILL, Jr•ucc of the Peace: oak. moat L. S. Leabetta's rime. .:--at Dad boroazh. SeNttehanse Con ate. Pente . o. ll..the .et lettieot o 1 the dodtete or the late Itaat ,t.t.00. th,taLsoti. 021 es. boarafrozo 9to 12 tit.oXh n ad from I to 4 o'clock p. m. od, Oct. 2aL B URSS & A7CHO LA In Deng*, Medicines. Chemicals. Dye , 'slots. OM. Varnish. Liquors. apices. Fancy Pstent Medicines. Perfamenrynad Sollemar • rAR - PrestAptiati• dually gotaponniteti— iletek Mock. Montrose, Pa. .k. 11 arum, 111. Int OET ALL KINDS OF JOB PRINTING, E ZUZ;CTED AT TUE DEMOCRAT OFFICE, Wan Sins or Promo Arrsoit. Fact's E'erner -0— I hear In the thicket the brooklet's fail ; A thrush on the lilac spray Sings as of old the vesper song Of the slowly-waking day; And the fragrance conies down from the chest nut trees, In the meadow where daisies blow, As it mom when the under twilight =me, In the springs of long sem Far over the dark and shadowy woods Comes floating the church-bells chime, And I wonder and d.carn, in the fading light, As I dreamed in the olden time, When I lingered under the chestnut bough Till bushed was the bird's sweet strain, And the shimmering light of the moon-beams fell On the leaves like a silver rain. But never again shall I wait anti watch, Fln the hush of the sweet spring night. or a step in Um depth of the rustling copse, And the gleam of a garment white; And never again, 'nenth the dew-gemmed flow era. Shall linger my loco end I. When the tremulous stars through the fleecy bats Look out in the western sky. Yet a Joy which Is nameless and strangely sad Throbs in my heart's deep core, As the sweet, sweet love of the days long fled Is thrilled into life once more. Oh, dear was I to the heart that Is cold, And her love o'ershadows me still ; And the stars shine down on hergravedo-night, lu therehurchyaid on the ItilL LITTTE WIFE. —o— Our table Is spread for two to-night— No Avesta our bounty share; The damask cloth is showy white, The service elegant and bright, Our china quaint and rare; My little wife presides, A d perfect love abides. The bread Is sponge, the butter gold, The muMns nice and hot_ What though the winds without blow odd? The wulls a little world enfold, And the storm is soon forgot. In the firelight's cheerful glow Beams a paradise liElow. A fairer picture who bath ma Soft lights and shadows blent ; The central tignre or the scene, She sits, my wife, my love, my queen— lier herol a little bent; And in her eves of blue I read my bliss anew. I watch her as she poartv the tea, With quiet, gentle grace ; With Lingers deft and movements tree She mixes in the cream for me. A bright smile on her face And as she sends it up I pledge her in my cup. MIR ever man before so blessed? I eccretly reflect. The intssing thought she must ' ace gtt ssel For now draw lips on mine arc p. eine I, An urra Is round my neck ; Dear treasure of my life— 'Clod bless her—little n ire I lie .ffitorg LOVE ON A LOG. —o— Beck y New ton. - Sir. 4 “Will von marry .me ?" "So, I --Very well: then don't, that's Mr. Feed Eeker , on drew awev leis , Aiair. and pu nog his 1,1 npQn p az/.3. d a !1.-asp:ll , -r. NI l:eeky „ bii lr r lip and a;th hers. Nines. Ste woad. t was g t• e Last it. si— r It his ii;.7 for a mon t:i.bia the s-et.e she kid anticipated was not A all like this. S.o. had int.•nded to refit. e him, bat it wit , to be done grac4ully.— She was to remain firm, notwithstanding hisonost eager et:fie:airs Shy was to have told h.m that though respectit g his manly worth and upright character, she omit] never he to him more than an ap pmciatme and earnest friend. She had intended to shed a f. w tears, perhaps as he knelt writhing in an agony of sup. plication at her feet. But instead, he had asked her the simple question, with out any rhetorical embellishment, and on being answered, had plung , d at once int. his newspaper, an thong!) he had merely asked the time of day. She could have cried with vexation. "You; will never have a bettor chance," he continued. after a pause, as he deliber ately turned over the sheet to find the latest telegraph reports. "A biter chance for what?" sho ask ed. shortly. "A better chance to marry a young. good-looking man, whose gallantry to the sex is only exceeded by his bravery in their defence." Fred was quoting from his newspaper. but Miss Newton did not know it. "And whose egotism is only exevedpd by his impudence," retorted the lady, sur eaCeallv. - - "liwfore continued Fred, be ont the market. You chances, are getting slimmer every day." "It won't be a great while before you are ineligible. Yon will grow• old and wrinkled and—" i"Snch rudenrss to a lady, sir,` . is men stmns." exclaimed Miss Kewton, rising hastily, and flushing to the temples. "11l give you a 6..al opportunity, Miss Beam , . Will you mar— " "Rot if von were the King of England," interrupted Miss Newton, throwing down her work. "I am not accustomed to such insults, sir." And so saying she passed into the house and slammed the doer behind her, "She is never so haudsoine as when she is in a rage," thought Fred to himself. after she had ens., as he slowly folded up his paper and replaced it in his pocket.— "1 was a foul to Zed her an. I shall never win•her in that way. But PU have her," be exclaimed ulna "By Heaven-Ell have ber.'cost what it may!" . _ Very diTemati was the Fred .Eckereon of the present; pacing nervously np and down the piazza, from the Fred Eclieistni a few moments ago, receiving hits missal from the : woman he loved, with yuiCh calm and imperturbable exterior,—. For he . loved Be,cky. Newton with al1:-.his heart. The real difrieullY in, the way, as he more Wu:LAW acspectedorka, not, .89 mach with himself ai l i n ii: b pocket. _Becky Newton had at joe! . , tO as empty *OA ''" daughter of im:m== 31Y OLD LOVE. "TRUTH AND RIGHT : GOD AND OUR COUNTRY." MONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 14, 1873. wealthy Lnuisiana planter, reared in lux ury and the recipient of a weekly allow ance of pie-money sufficient to pny Fred's whole bills for a month she had no im mediate idea of changing her situation for one of less comfort and independence. Besides, it had been intimated to her that a neighbor planter of unusual aristocratic lineage had looked upon her with covet ous eyes._ To be sure, he was old nod ugly, but he was rich, and, in her present mercenary state of mind, Miss Becky Newton did not deshe to allow such a chance of becoming a wealthy widow slip by unimproved. But alas for human natrre! If Becky was reallvso i different to Fred E.•k why did she run up stairs after that in terview, and take the starch all out of her nice clean pillow shams by crying, herself into hysterics on the bed ? It was not all wrath, not all vexation not all pique: There was somewhere deep down in Becky Nevr.ou's heart a &ding very mach akin to rermmte. She was not sure that she would not one day be sorry for what she had done. She had no doubt she would ho very happy as Fred Eckeron's wife, after 811. "But," she cried, growing hot with the recollection, "he was so rude, and so insulting! I never could live with such] a man—never!" When Fred Eckerson had walked off some of his feelings on the piazza, he concluded to take a look at the river. The Mississippi, which flowed within five hun dred yards of the house, was at that time nearly at the height of its annual "spring rise." Its turbid waters, rushing swiftly towards the sea, had nearly filled the banks, and in many places bad broken through the leeves and flooded the low. lands for many miles. A crevasse of this description had been made in the farther bunk nearly opposite to the house, and the window's of the Newton mansion commanded a view of a vast and glitter ing inland sea, not laid down on the maps. The main current of the stream I bore upon its coffee colored bosom an enormous mass of floating timber, which was dashed along the holing flood, ren dering navigation wholly impossible.— The waters were still rising, and the fre quent crushes far and near told of the undermining pliwer of the current, as "eetions of the sandy banks succumbed and disappTared carrying with them the trees which overhung' the stream. Now it happened that, by a eunous co incidence, Miss Newton also resolved to look ut the river. She dried her tears and putting on her hat, 'slipped out by the buck door to uveid Fred, and soon mond herself ut the foot of a huge cottonwood tree on the hank below the house. Throwing herself upon the grass, and haled by the buhbling of the rapid fl-ed `ieneath her, she soon fell asleep. Had die poise.sed any rawer of foreseeing the future, it_ would hare been :lie last thing she would have done, for Malone, it Ws. very pleasant dropp.og asleep (here in the .noels, wi:h the soft sunlight tilt_ring through the hates overhead, the awaken ing was oat all to her mind. A terribh erash made chaos of her dreams; the ;wand slipped from beneath her, the tal , N)tion wood toppl.-d and fell: and Miss Ileekv Newton found herself snddenly onnorsed in the cold flood, with her .rtoith full of muddy water. In a mo ient more somebody's arm was areund 'e -r. and she It-it herself lifted up and .e.d somewhere its the sunshineohongh precisely where she was vs yet too beirtld .-red to know. Getting her eves open at ast she found Fred Eckerson a whiskers windy brushing her face. -Well i" -Well!" "Where am I r asked Becky. shivering and looking around her. '• Yon are in the middle of the Mis sissippi replied Fred, " and you are in the fork of a cottonwood tree, and you are voyaging toward the Gulf of Mexico just as fast as this freshet can carry you." "How came you here?" "In the same conveyance wtih yourself. Miss Reeky. In fact, yru and I and the tree all came together, to say nothing of a portion of your father's plantation, which, 1 fear, is lost to him forever." Becky was silent. She was thinking, not of the accident or their perilous post tion, bat of her appearance when she was lying asleep on the grass. "Bow long were you there before t'tis happened?" she asked. "As long as you were. I wrs up in the tree when you came." "Yon had no right to be np there." she said coloring—"a spy upon my move ments." 'Nonsense!" he replied. You intrud ed on my privacy, and while you slept I watched over you, like the sweet little cherub that sits aloft." "Thank 'nn for your service, I'm sure," she said, b! . ..idling. "Yon snored awfully." "Mr Eckerson, remove your arm from around my waist." "Then put yours around my neck." "Licked I mall do no such thing : " "You will fall into the river if you don't." Becky was silent for several moments, while their nnwieldly raft whirled along in the current, mllirg from side to ride, and threatening every instant to turn completely over and tip them off. At last she said: "What are' we to do?" "I think, now that I am started, I shall go on to New Orleans," he replied. "To New Orleans!" exclaimed Becky, - "It is a hundred miles." Yoe, and the chance of a free passage for snob a dis•ance is not to be neglected.— Yon can go ashore, if yon prefer." She lutist into team. "You are cruel," she said, "to treat me so. 'Cruel!" exclaimed Fred, drawing her closer to him, quickly ; "cruel to you ?" There was no help for it, and she re laved into silence.gnite con tekt,apparent ly to r'main in Fred's arms, iihd evincing no . disposition to rebel. For once rn her life she was dependend on a man. "I want to go to New Orleans," continu ed Fred. after s pause, "because there is A young lady ,of my acquaintance re siding there, whom I 'have some inten- Pto of bringing into taus neigltborturod.' "If we don't go to New Orleans, and if we get safe out of this scrape, I shall wnte to her to come any way.' "Ah "I shall obtain board for her in St. Jean, which will be cvoneuient for me as long as I remain your father's guest. I can ride over after breakfast every morn ing, you see." "She is an intimate friend, then P" said Becky. "I expect to marry h r before long," he replied. "Marry her I Why, you—you proposed to me this morning." "Yes, but you refused me. I told you then you would never h .ve another ehanee." Becky was silent again. It is a matter of some doubt whether, had Fred at that moment, sitting astride that cottonwood log, with his feet in the water and his aims round 60. waist, proposed to her a second time, she would have accepted him or not. To be sure a marvelous change had come over Becky's feeliligs since her tumble into the river. She felt just then that one strong arm like that which supported her was worth a thousand and ilec:epid planters; and she recogniz ed the fact that a man who could talk so coolly and unconcernedly in a situation of such extreme peril was one of no or dinary courage. But she was not vet quite prepared to give up her golden dreams. The dross was not quite wash ed out of her soul, and she did not yet know how much she loved Fred Ecker son. Besides, she did not half believe him. Their clumsy vessel Boated on, now root first, sideways, and now half sub merged by the boiling current. Their pre carious hold became more uncertain as their frames became chilled by the cold water, and every plunge of the log threutend to casl them once more into the river. In vain Fred endeavored to attract the attention of some one on the shore. The cotten wood retained a course nearly in the middle of the stream, too far front either bank to make their out cries of much avail. As it grew dark, their situation seemed more and more helpless, and to Becky there appeared to he no escape from certul t death, either by drowning in the darkness or by exhaus tion before daybreak. Yet to die in this man's arms seemed not wholly a terror. She could haruly think if death must come, of any way In which she would rather meet it. Was it she loved him, and needs be brought within the valley of the shadow before she could know her heart? Had she holed him all along? While she was thinking about it, chilled by the exposure and night air, she tell asleep. When she awoke the stars were out, hut she was warm and comfortable. Raising her heath she found herself enveloped in Fred's rv.of "Fred "Well ?" "You have robbed yonr;ielf to keep me warm. You are freezing." "No, I ain't ; I took it off because it was so awlul hot ;" and taking out his h udkereoiet with his disengaged hand.' e at pretense of wiping the perspiration from his brow." •'llow long have I been asleep?" "About three hours. We are drifting in shore now." "Shall we be sawed ?" "I don't know. Put your arms around me neck, fur I am going to take mine away." 13,eky dill this time as she was bid.Sbe not only threw her arms quickly around his nick, but she laid her head upon his I,e -sat without the_ slightest hesibrion. In the darkness, Fred did not know that she imprinted a kiss upon his shirt bosom. '•fluid fast now," he cried." Hold on, for your dear lile." The big had been gradually nearing the chore for some time, and now it shot sud denly under a large sycamore which over hung-its banks and trailed its branches in the brown flood. Quick as thought,Fred seized the limb over his hew], and pulled .with all his might. The headlong course of the cottonwood was checked ; it plunged- heavily, and partly turned overdts top became eranne , led in the sycamore, and a terific crack ling of limS3 ensiled. With a sudden spring Fred gained the protecting branch, dragging his clinging burden after him. Ir. another instant the cottonwood bad broken away and continued its voyage down the river, while the bent sycamore regained its shape with such a quick re bound that the two travelers were nearly precipitated into the stream again. Fred half supporting—half dragging Becky, worked his way to the trunk by a series of gymnastics that would have done no discredit to Blondin, and in a moment more both had reached the ground in safety. -That's a business we are well out of," he said, when he had regained his breath. "Now, where are the?" He look about. A light was glimmer ing trum a habitation behind them,a short distance from where they stood. Becky could hot walk without great pain, and Fred lifted her lightly in his arms and started for the house. It proved to be the dwelling of a small planter, who was not lucking in hospitality. Here there wants were quickly attended to, and, under the cheerful influence of warmth and shelter, Becky was soon herself again. They drove home the following day, Fred having procured the loan of the planter's horse and chaise for that plat , pose promising to return them by Mr. Icearton's servant the day after. The morning was bright and clear, and the fragrance of the orange groves was in all the air. Becky, who bad maintained al most utter silence since their escape from the cottonwood. was no less silent now.— Fred himself did not appear particularly communicative, and many miles of the long ride were taken without a remark from either. It was Becky who spoke first. • "Fred," she said. "Yes r "You have, urea my lit, bare you not?' "lappy . to do itarty.day " remarked, not kaolin's exactly what else to ear. 'I thank you very Etner" "Quito welcome. I'm sure." There was another long silence, broken only by the sound of the horse's hoofs upon the road. Fred himself seemed to hevt lost some of his hail. mil ease, for lie kept his whip in constant motion, and held the rains nervously. "Fred l" "Yes ?" "Are you going to write to that pang lady in New Orleans r s'pose so." "Hadn't you—better—try—again-..be• fore you—before you write?" "Try again Try what BY: "I've been thinking through the night," said Becky, bending low to hide her face, and carefully separating the fringe of her mantilla, "that—perhaps—if you ask me again the same question—that you did. yesterday morning—L might answer a little diftbrent." Becky's head went against Fred's shoal d e r,and her face became immediately lost to view, "Yon darling be exclaimed, "I never intended to do otherwise. The young lady in New Orleans was wholly a myth.. But ivhen, mlty I ask, did you change your mind ?" "I have never changed it," she mur mured, "I have loved you all the time but I never knew it till last night." And to this day, when Mrs. Becky Eckerson is is asked where it was that she fell in love with her Rusband, she answers, "On a log." A Story For Toting Men. —o— I had grown reckless after I moved to M--; that is, I fell in with a crowd of professed friends, who drank, swore and cared nothing for morality in general. At first I held back, I had not been used to it; but I could not withstand the one r rg laugh of my companions which always greeted me when I refined to join in any of their wicked acts, and by de grees I became very reckless. It makes me shudder even now to think of it. I had never been blessed with a sister's love. I relided with my mother in this village of about four hundred inhabitants. Many a night when I would go reeling home from the shop at the north end of the town, I would find my dear mother watching for her son—listening if per chance she could catch the sound of his unideady step. Many a time dii I waken from my drunken slumbers and hear that fond mother sending up a petition toGod in behalf of her intemin sor. Oh! what a wretch I was. I knew that I was bringing dawn her gray hairs in sorrow to the grave. She began to look aged and careworn ; but I kept on my sinful ways until a circumstance occurred to stop me in my downward career. I was starting out one evening to thi grog-shop, when I suddenly remembered that I had spent all my money at that !Awe the evelint , before. tremembe f eed also th it 1 ha seen my mother put a ew pennies(her hard earnings) in a cup that day. I was tempted! I tried to resist. hut my appetite was too strong. I slip. ii-t 1 • a ttiensly to the cupboard, removed he money from the cap deposited it in my pocket, an.l was startLig from the house, w'ien my mother entered. I did not turn my head for I felt guilty—guilty of what I never was before—a theft. My mother called me• ' there was some thing in her voice which I could not resist. 'What is it, mother?' said L 'Oh, Willie! do slay at home with me to-night,' she exclaimed. grasping my hand in both of here. 'Don't drink to night; take my advice just once.' 'Oh ! how many times since I have wished that I had taken her .deice that night. But I consoled her by telling her that I would not stay long. I wended my way to the grog-shop; but my mother's words: 'Oh, Willie! do stay at home with me to night,' kept ringing in my cars far louder than the drunken oaths, and for once I did not stay what I called late; but when I reached home the hells in the neighboring city was tolling the midni'ht hour. A stßinge feeling seized me as I ap proached my home. The light was placed in the window as usual to guide the wand. rt Fs steps. I went to the window and loked in. There sat my mother in her easy chair; her eyes were closed and I thought she slept.. I tried to chase my fears away as I went around to the door; my hand trembled when I laid it on the latch, and it thrilled my very heart when it arose with a sharp click., I had never known such feelings before. I en tered.; I beheld in my mother's band the very cup from which I had removed the money. I laid my hand on mother's shoulder and spoke to her. She moved not; I spoke louder; still uo answer. I listened but could not hear her breathe. I laid her gently on the hed, brought water and bathed her white forehead. Reader, im agine my joy, when I saw that dear moth er open her eyes. 'Oh, mother !' cried I. 'forgive me. Oh forgive your erring boy:, I do,' was the answer. A heavedly smile lit up bee face. 'Meet me in heaven, Willie.' 'By the grace of God I And my mother's spirit bad fled to the God who gave it. It is not necessary for me to prolong the description of the mournful scene. Suffice it to say that from that moment I was a changed 01311—snatched as a brand from the born'ng. ' Since'', that time not one drop of whisky, wine, or anything of the kind has passed my lips, and by help and strength given me from above never will. A SYMPATHETIC Troy policeman, who bad shot an escaping prisoner three times . in And side, offered; on his re: ca p ture, to peek ou t the balls with his pocket knife, but the unappreciative prisoner insisted upon having a surgeon, and the two took a -horse car, in the most friendly manner, in search of medical ' "If poor George bad not blorred into the muzzle of big gun ":eigbed Oruro! widow, at the fpneral of her, husband, lest Eidtar day, "be might hive gird plentLot nide rea. Itvai eacha good for them" Oft* lithe 144 vim bt 'pinto", TWO DOLLARS PERIM/1R TM ADVANCE f r- Tern/Sig, NON row asi .aisvasics, so ars. Exsirsi. Goddess of Slang. —o— rams courting a beautiffil girl one night, Whom I wonahipped as almost divine, • And longed to hear breathed the sweet little word That told me she would be mine ; I waspraising the wealth of her chestnut hair, And her eyes of matchless blue, When she laid her dear cheek on my shoulder and said, "Hurrah! That's bully for you!" • I started In term, bat managed to keep From showing my intense surprise, And rod my Ilan lightly on brow and on c And then on her meekly chard my eyes, I told her my love was as deep as the sea, would elt h i paul. go pittilatter) I wor her always if she would be mine; And she whispered, "Oh! that's what the matter!" I toldher,her cheek would the Fit to shame Her teeth the famed Orient ; And the ocean ' s rich coral cos nevercompare With the lips of my beantifel girl That her voice was like music that comes to the ear In the night time—and sweet was her smile, As that of an angel, and she breathed "On that you can Just bet year pae Funerol Sermons. —o-- "Say nothing but good of the dead" has become so common a maxim, that preachers generally accept it as a rule in framing funerals sermons. As good can not be said truthfully of every man, whose friends have wealth or influence eticagh to procure the services of a cler gyman at his interment, it naturally fol lows that those whose profession is to be better than others, set an example of in sincerity and falsehood. A maxim that has such consequences cannot be sound wisdom or morality. All those who knee the deceased, will have observed in . his life some errors of greater or less magni. tude, and no laudation, however enthusi astic or sweeping, can deceive them. Strangers will generally cam little for what is maim such an occasion, and if they happen to give the matter any at tention, their knowledge of average hu man nature tells them at once that char acters so pare and uuceptionable as the heroes of'ffuneral sermons do not exist in real life. Therefore, no one is deceived in believing them true, and it is the merest wisdom to do that which will not effect the purpossi, however desirable, for which it is intended. But the custom is still more obnoxious io a moral point of view. Men hear praises of deceased per sons who in life forgot all doties,and nat urally their faith in the necessity of being really good wavers and decreases; for if villainy and worthlessness are to be ap plauded in the same terms as honesty and purity, what can be the use of striving to obtain our neighbor's good opinion ? Shall funerals sermons, then, be cata logues of the faults of the departed? By no means. It would be in the highest sl.m.lirilleePrtt nu* man. hnenaa. as aped is earning or piety,to drag private vices from the grave's oblivion and expose them to the gaze of a vulgar and censor ious crowd. When. therefore, the char acter of a man is open to suspicion or ex csption, self respect and honesty require a preacher who is asked to ofHciate at his funeral to be silent. We do not, to soothe the fLielings of a bereaved family,say that ugly persons are beautiful, and we ought not for any such reason, say that wicked persons are good. This whole business of funerals tend to bring the clergy into a contempt which it would be hardihood to call undeserved. And a man who pro. fesses to teach truth should rigidly, con sistently and inflexibly practice it, not by brutally insisting on exposing the faults or crimes of the dead, but by refusing to praise, unless applause has been justly earned by a life of virtue and worth.— Amish Index. ee...------- The Man of Long Life. ——o— There is a great deal of truth in . the following portraiture of the conditions favorable to longevity : He has a proper and well-proportioned stature, without however, being too tall. He is rather of the middle size, and somewhat thickset.. His complexion is not too florid; at any rate, to much rud diness in youth is seldom a sign of long evity. His hair approaches rather to the fair than the - black; ,his skin is strong, but not too rough. His head is not too big; he has large veins at the extremities, and his shoulders are rather round than flat. His neck is not too loug; his abdo. men does not project; and his bands are large, but not too deeply clt ft His foot is rather thick than long; and , his lege are firm and round. lie has also a broad, arched chest, a strong voice. and the fac ulty of retaining Ma breath for a long time witbont difficulty. Generally there is complete harmony in all pits. His senses are good, but not tog, delicate; his pulse is slow and regular. His stomach is excellent, bis appetite good, and his fligestion easy. The joys importance; theythe table are7to him of they tune his mind to serenity, and his soul partakes in the pleasure which they communicate. He does , not eat merely for the pleasure of eating, but. each meal is an hour of daily festivity, a kind of de light. attended with this advantage, in regard to others, that it does not make him poorer, but richer. Be'eats slowly, and has not too mach thirst. 'Too great thirst is alwbys a sign of rapid self-con sumption. In general, be is serene, loquacious, ac tive)ansceptible of boy, love and hope; butinsensible to the' impretsions. of ha tred, anger and avarice. His passions never become too violent or destructive. 1 If be ever give way to anger, he exper iences rather a useful glow of warmth, and artificial and gentle fever without an overflow of the bile. 'He is fond also of employment, particularly calm medita tion and agreeable apectiliitiiiita;ls an op tionist, a friend to nature and domestic felicity, has no thirst after honors or rich es, contents himself With little, and ban. idles all thoughts Lit tomorrow. • Tea cnetoto of payintheir Una sal. ary to members of theFre_ nob Academy in a entail big of gray brown paper orig inatedits the time of Cardinal Richelieu dieltsaday startedutud bap, tined to WI OP NUMBER ga. Religious miles: Anour one sixth- of.our entire popula tion base no church accommodations: A ROYAN CATHOLIC cathedral is to t erected at Hartford, Coon., at a cost of half a million dollars. . , , Canucu attendance sin -Berlin' is/Hirt Out of 650.000 Proteatan‘ only 18,000 are church-goers. • - BISHOP Gtt.noun. of .01ereland,, ,Obio{ bas tuned a pastorial letter demanding; aepeiato achoola for Homan Catholics: " • • ;7 KIND ' th ough hi ore the spice islitnae 91, the spirit, making; a misn's - dhargctertlitety with sweetness. • , 41,..5nw religions society called "The. Brothers of .the Lord" has been organised' in Newport, By. Tan Episcopal Chnrcii esiaMishment; in India costs -tho British Government $2.5,000 a - year. .• • .. .:.; ... 3 Tau Churchman and the.lndtpeliiknf,3 are discussing the relative merits, llva' geligione view, of hair shirts and baptismal pan ts. . • • THE Presbyterians of Scotland ake noiv moving in favor of -disestablishment.— The days of State Churches am Slumber ed. Do not dread possible worldly .trials; - perhaps they will never come, and it they. do, God will strengthen yon.—,St, Francis de Sales. • SOME one, feeling that actions are 1:;et-, ter that' words, has said; "We read or the Acts of the Apostles, bat • never or their resolutions." A Mrrnonier divine, in the BaltimOre Episcopal Methodist, advocates the remov- ; al of all limitation upon the pastoral term: but the Methodist doutits_ the wisdom of the change. ' 7 TUE Young Blea's Christain Agenda. Lion have ,organized in Rome and ar e . prospering greatl T . They have two branches, one of Luglish and the•other of Italian young men. - A BILL is before the New York light islature to change a usage orsixty pearl"- standing in the Baptist Chnrchesinamely prohibiting all non-church members from having a voice in the secular interests of their church. TUE Papal Velum.' is stated : to be ex ceptionally full, and it is said that several millions of francs have been sent by Car dinal Antonelli to"thileountiy far invest ment to the Pope's credit. Mato- bnlliant points in *gone preached are lost by the neglect ; uf sex tons to provide , congregations. with ppre air. Ministers will Boon' Le called upon to eupplement their', appeal, "Let va breathe P • MARY, Queen of Scotsiito be made a.— Smut, ana put upon the Calendar.' Poor Mary. She was very unfortunate, alai - nobody thought she was a Saint whm. she lived or died. But time works great changes, and now.. Mary is canonis ed! ~ For the Ladlei,' Wownw are grandually working into all the school offices throughout the country. A WAS/1011210X belle speaks fire differ ant languagesTbuteannot bake a loaf of bread to wive her life. Wens, preachers are increasing rapid ly. Ten uew names have been added to the list, within the lust six months • _ Wouzs are to be employed as elerks-in the various department of the State Goy ernment of Pennsylvania, so says Govgr nor Hartranft. Env. Mrs. Van Cott has so many calls to preach that she always sap "No" whenever she sees a man with a white neckcloth approaching her. • An' East Tennessee ;riper notices the third tnarriase, on the 16th tilt., of a Mr. Samnel H. Milburn. He married anthems wives within a year, and number two had been dead only twetity.nino days when be took number three. A Yousa lady at Montgomery, New York, has committed suicide because she was too poor to live . like a lady and to proud to "do housework." Well, st Jamul that human nature ahoald..he so weak, but the young lady did perhaps the most , sensible thing possible under the circum stances. Thera is no occasion - for - any one so afflicted to stay in this world. • ' A LADY living at s hotel in. Troy, al lowed her baby to lie around loose,, the result Was that it grit mixed up 'with a lot of dirty clothes, and was carried off. unobserved, by the laundry tame of the establishment When the loss was • discovered, a diligent search was institu ted, and eventually, after sorting over the contents of the laundry, the baby was discovered. Bawd= of females with three aims.— They have no right tome a profusion of limbs and carry them for no good pur pose. A getleman in.& Broadway, stage felt a hand gioping in his side next to a - well dressed woman. •At the - sathe ' time a neat gloved band rested on her lap on the same side, and seizing this as she was leaving the vehicle lag pulled her arm off. , TREY have some girls of the period out in Colorado. Now there is Miss May Biting, only nine years old, living bear_, Fort Coiling, who "broke twenty 'twee' of - new ground last yerr, ard: raised 237 bushels of wheat and 300 bushels of po- ' tatoes, with a cultivator and two spans of; moles. She has no parents, and is blind im one eye. She now has a ten mile . con -.1 tract'of grading on the Jnlesburg Rail road, which is nearly completed." • 'ratan is said to be a guest in the Lu natic Asylum en' Blackwell's Island; who became,deranged from dikappointed love, her betrothed having suddenly , left:.and married.nnother. ,Day after day she site ; silently staring at vacancy t and uopeta if= non or allurement can - Induce her' to speak a word. Once a year it young ma comes tuid._puta a . boquet in herband stit delfl,t& uf, ;k:rfity' binding atom fot sny.ons •tikrifit•to tun it.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers