- - - • - .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.