THE . .,,..8 .- i(ONTROSE DEMOCRAT E. B HAWLEY & Co., Proprietors. VOLUME 30. THE DEMOCRAT I. Published Every Wednesday Morning, By a fl Frawley &. Co. TERMS :-4.1 a year is alrance, or 011.30 if not in advance. RATES OF ADVERTISING :—Three•fnnrths inch of space, or less, matte one squnre. One vinare, 3 teeeks or ice, $1.00; 1 month $1.23; 3 months 42.50 6 months $4.50; 1 rear, $B.OO. Quarterly. halforenrly and yearly Raver tigements inserted at a hberid reduction on the above rntes. 'When ..nt without any length of time specified for publication they will be con tinued until ordered out and charged according- ly. Auditor'. Notices. ExeAlltOr'S MO Ad ministrator ' Notices. $3.00. All, communica tions of limited or individual interest, 10 cents per line_ Oldrnary Notion.. 10 cents pet Aloe.— Marrince and Death Notire. free. JOB PRINTING ,--Every Style of Job Work neatly, promptly, and cheaply executed. BLANKS:—need, Noteq, Justnes', ("musts bles', School, and other blanks for sale. Business Cards J. R. & A. IT IfeCOLL Arennotm ♦t Law Office over the Rank. Montreal Ph. Montrove. May 10. 1571. tf D. W. SEARLE, ATTORNSY AT LAW. nfEre neer the Store nt W. bessaner. tCI the Uri& 131. k. Montrose. ?a. Nell/ W. W. 9.117777, 17•1311017 ("HAIR MANl7FACTrlitß9.—tons •• ••••..e. IlAnntrom. Pa. Wig. 1. /862. C. SUTTON. AtICTiONTEER, and Iwsun•Nes kecwr, asiloiftf - Friend," 1111 l Pa. AMI EL T, UNITED STATES AUCITONEER. Ass. 1, JAM Address, Brooklyn. Pa J. SA L'77l[l. ASITIONABLR TAILOR. Shop over J.lll. DOWI/01 "tor, 31untrote Feb. 19th 1973. NSW TAILOR. Shop arra l'oxin.'s 800 Starr. next to the pnstoffict. Work 41,. , a In :h.• heat eqle. Give rue. !nal. Montrone. ocl.ls,lM—lna OHO. U KALESIL JOI.LY GROVES, • TALI liontrove, Pa. Slop over ettendler't. Store. Al.ordery flllvd In drwratvetyls. '•iting done on then nottee. and warranted to et. 40. IVA RILSW, ATTORNgY A. LA W. Bounty, Hack Pay. Cession and Es.tcl on Claims attended to. (NrOco dr ...or helo. Boyd', more. Montrose. P.. [Au. 7,'60 Iv. .4. CROSSMON, Attorney at Lae. OfZee at the Cowl Yong.% to tke ComMisoloure• emtros.. Scut_ Cak. 141.—tf. McKEIVZIF:, d , CO. Dealer, In Dry Good., Clothln, Ladles and Misaer A. .ingoe. %lon, Jr:reale far the grad! •Ameriaan Tea and Coder Company. ploacrome, .Toly t 7, '72,) DR W. W. SMITH, Dmrsrire. Rooms at Mt .isaallioe. next door mat of tb• Hepobliraa prinlaug ofnc, t ;Zee hours from IP a. a. to(r.u. 'do:um...May 3., 11:71—tf L. 2 W OFI7Cg. f ITCH .6 WATS:(I!i, 4ttornayo At Law, at Um old elle* of Bentley &Flub, Morar.e, 6 T. rrtca. Idan. It. '7l.[ v. • wraelrom, ADEL TURRELL, Dealer to Braze. ItceDeluca, Cb , oaic-ile. Palate. 011 e, Dye rya, spiced. Finer Jeteretry, Per fakery. se.. Brick Black, illoalr ea, Pa. Eatehe.bed 16.13. Feb. 1. 1813. SCUVILL & DEJVITP. At/oral/Fa I , Law sod '.dldtan 1., Balllcnaptcy. Office Vu .19 Court 'tact. over I.;sty Aatiuital Bauk, tiara, 'a. N Y. W W. II Scovna... E=l=2l DR. W. L. RICHARDSON, PHYSICIAN &UtolN, readers his professional service. to the citizen, of Korvin:me and OtEce at till - ssideace, On the earner moo of Sayrk Bros. Poo udr). (Aug. t. 11369. CHARLEN N. STODDARD lealer in Banta Ind ,none, Rau and Caps. Leather anti Findla4., Na , n lat du,r . `,Gov Boyd*. Gore. Kurt t and repairt,yr neatly. atnt.:,at Jan. 1 I. LEWIS KNOLL SDAVICIa AND !LAIR DaEssma. chop in the nog/ Yeaeoflce bnildihe, where be will am found ready So attend at who ta•y Ws[lt litilyta/O1 in 41.1 tine. liontroge Ps. Oct. IS. InGii. DA S W. DAYTON, YEITOTCIAN & 14 7 1IGEON. trzelerr oeivieeo to tne eittzono of Great Mend and Orinity. Mice at his reoideoce. opposite ?carom floure, G't Dotal value.. Kept_ Ist, tf DR D A. LA ?WHOP, Admiciaer• EL Tao PaccoL. at the Peat of Chestnut street. Csll and wevoll in ail Chronic pismires. . Iloutrosr, Jan. tt. *72_—onS-11. CIIARLEY MORRIS, TrIETATTI BARBELL ham moveA hie 1410%) to the bottdion ontapied by J. H DeWitt. *tibiae be Is pno p teed to di.* 1 kiwi* nf work In hie Ilea. each le itita *tug owltrbett, putt. eta. All work done en Aort notice and prince low. Mears call and se- me. IL BURRITT. Deem Supt• and Fancy Drs Goad., erackerjr, Hard wage. Iron. St.'s+, DrILTIB. Oita and Pmilota. ant Axt• eap., Fars, tlatrato Babes. Gro ceries. PruTi.loms. Nerr-Ihltord, . s., NOT. 0, .73-11". lacir.4 GE HOTEL M. J. lifillitEICSTON wiener to inform inepuhltetbst Darin; reurod the Exch4nre !loro In Vontrw..., h. Jr nen% woo , onceaninlo.iste the Meeting pablle In firri-clor.rtyin • Murano., Ann. 1373. LIT 7 LES <E• BLAKE"9- 4 1R. ATTPTINEYB AT LAW. blvo rcrnol-1 tap their Few Oince, op went the Terbell ilunee. R. IR. Lrrrts. GEO. P LEETR.T.. BLESUEOLES. Moutrope.ocL S. IS3. BILLINGSSTROITD. FIRE AND LIFE INVJAANCP ACP:NT. Al.' Driatae.r stranded toprmaro ly.oll fair tamp. Off et aro dour ra-t ..f bank or Wm. 11. Cooprr d Cam_ onhlir Arenas, 3inattorr. Pa. f Avg. 1.1869. .Inly 17. Ira.] RILLINGI STHOTIbb P. T. d E. IL CARE, if A rvcrss-v: AKERS. Oat Ibtroeso.llgbt and heavy, tuvre.l cm) , prireo. AIM, Ii .nk t% &snit Blau ketr. Whllott g,td terarything pertalnlna to :ha line; ehaonor than +he vhcapeet. Itcpairlug dna() prompt. Ir olnd In cued tape. Mont.ose, Pa.. tics. 21, Ins. I. D. VAIL Ito almorierinCPUTAtclear ATD 811110 Mit Me , peralinently located bira.elf to Ifontro...rll., wlit're be .111prOMIA -1) .utii6 to alleallo la hi,. profcsiktorkwith whlcb be may he lionterE Mice and reoldesten won of the Coon Hoare, eon Plicti .h Aratmon'a office. /Om:Arose. Febnarsls.lBll. VALLEY ROUSE., GRZAT DiarD. PA. &United near the grielleflweille. pot. I. a Tarr , and covotodtiona houve.ttas tindergoas a thoronth repair. 'Scrip furteeeed maw and oloe.p• Mot acrotmegmeplemildtable*.and alit.bthre.notopele he: a Mat e.t.a howl. 11.81.41tY ACK KRT._ Fain- tOsti. „ Proprietor. P. CHLRCIIILL, Jo.bee of tba Peace: Office over L. S. Lancelm'a atom, gr,et 8.1,4 botoattb, tiasottebiforot Comity. Penh's. game act lenient of the docketa of the tate Witt naektiow. deceased. Office boar. from 0 tollo'clock a. ro , and from t to 4 o'clock p. m. Picat 14f44, Oct. ed, 1872. • BURNS 4 NICHOLS, OSA, ..aRS la Drop. ettguittals: Die. stts.Pllnta.,OlicSasal•b. Liquors, aPtet. , aneS trt-tles.Pateatiloilielacts..Partniserysnd Toilet As = title., 111.Preteripttan. catortati lioatrtrio. Ps, •. 8. Sr.'', 1114 TUE 1341i1E14 TIME. -o- DT D. TATLOIII. -0-- Oh, a wonderful stream is the River Time. As It flows tbrough the realm of team, With a faultless rhythm and a musical rhyme, And a broader sweep and a surge sublime, As it blends Is itb the ocean of years. How the winters are drifting hke flakes of snow And the summer like buds between; And the year, In the sheaf—so they come and they go On the river's breast, with its ebb and flow, An they glide in the shadow and sheen. There's a insatesl isle up the River Time, Where the softest of airs are playing; There's s cloudless sky and a tropical clime, And a voice as sweet ass vesper chime, And the Junes with the roses staying. And the name of this is the Long Ago, And bury our treasures there; There are brows of beauty and bosoms of snow— There are heaps of dust, but we love them so! There are trinklets and tresses of hair. There are fragments or sonethat nobody sings, And apart of an infant's prayer, There'S it harp upswept, and a tote without strings, There are broken Tows and pieces at naps, And the garments that she used to wear. There are hands that are waved when the fatty shore By the mirage is lifted in air; And we sometimes hear through the turbulent roar Sweet voices we heard in the days gone before, When the wind down the river is fair. Oh, remembered fur aye be the blessed Isle. All the day of our hie till night, And when evening comes with Its beautiful smile, And our eyes are elesed in slumber awhile, Iday that "Greenwood" of soul be in sight. MISCELLANEOUS READING LIESBAIND'S FIEST WIFE -0- BY AMY EINDOLiII -0- "Such a child to be married !" said Aunt Tabitba. "Not sixteen yet!" said old Mrs. Met win. "I don't know what this world is com ing tor' said Desire Higgins who at forty-six, was an unguthered rose upon the hush of "maiden meditation," Yee, it,atis all quite true. I was very yoong to-be married, and yet it seemed as if I had lived a whole century since first I had seen Edward Rayner. Only sixteen, and yet us I walked down the broad aisle with the orange wreath in my hair and the gleaming wedding-circlet on my linger, i could hardly realize that it was only yesterd..y I was playing with dolls and chasing butterflies down the shady aisles of Aunt Tabitha's garden. "I hope . you won't regret your preci pitancy, child," said Aunt Tabby. '•I know I shall not, aunt," I flashed back. Fur was no' my hero stainless as Galshead; without fault, King Arthur's sett? MMt= "Oh yes," said Aunt Tabitha, in that dry way of hers that I particularly de , tested ; "that's what all young wives think. I've beard girls talk just so hetore." All this was very provoking, but what could Ido Only preserve a dignified silence, and leave Tame to disprove all Aunt Tabitha's gloomy fiirebodings. Oh, the cloudles Summer shunshine of those first days of my wedded Mel Shall I ever forget them, if I should live to be as old ac Joyce Beth ? Our sunset walks on Goat Is'and, the wild flowers we used to bring home from the Canada meadows; the sweet. low singing of the birds, audi ble even midst the thunders of Niagara! I remember. ever now, how people used to pause and look at us, and whisper one to a .other how handsome Edward was, and What a youthful bride I seemed! Niagara was very gay that season, and when a telegram unexpectedly arrived, summoning my husband hack to New York on business of vital importance, he left me with the less apprehension lest I should be lonely. "It will only be for a week, Rosa," said he. "And you must be as gay and hap py as you can until I come back." So he left me. And in that first eve ning ot his departure I put a knot of white rosebuds . in my hair, and went down into the great, cool verandias gay as a lurk. Mrs. Ingoldsby Bennet was there—a friend of mine.from New York,with three blowsy, overdressed daughters— and she smilingly made room for me, and intro duced me to a friend sitting at her side. "Mrs. Rayner—Mrs. Tennington." Mrs. Tennington bowed and nailed in an automatic Sort of way. ME=M "Mrs. Ed ward Rayner, of Budding Vale r !vinyl]. in scone enrprise 6 E.r•aetly so," ELM Mr& Temfington. "The world is quite frill of clarions coin cidences. I knew your husband's first wife, Mrs. Rayner. I colored and then grew pale. "I think you must be mistaken in the norson. Mrs. Tenningtxm," said T. "Mr. Rayner—mu husband—has never been =wrier! before." "Ab r Raid Mrs, Tenningtmi, with a little contemptuous laugh that made me hair her cordially- "It's en naturil fOr a wife to believe ass she choose&But that don't aster the true facts of the ease. Mr. Rayner was married three years ago, to Isabel Morti mer, i friend i , f mine—and two rears ago he was divorced from her. Yea. yea, I remember it all very well. People gos siped a good deal—they always will in a small place like Budding Vale—and bow you ever lived there without. hearing of "Bat i never lived in Budding Yale."l interrnpfed hotly. "I am only pat from New York.' "0!" raid 3fre. Tennington, "that accounts for it. A - nd I dare say I'm telling tales out of school, if Ide.Yrier. himself has chosen to keep his counsel on the matter;" and the nodded more pro vokingly than ever. , Just then to my infinite relief, a paste of friends - swept up to Mrs. Tenuington t s corner, and I was able to slip away, with wildly throbbing heart, and cheeks alter. nately 'gushed and ashy pale. • We this trnel Had my husband then deceived me? Was 1 the wife of a di lazaskAmi!pa,.! MONTROSE, SUSQUEHANNA. COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY, DEC. 24, 1873. POETRY. "Di. you really mean it, Rosa ?" "I dn." "lett me, first, what is the accusation which you have to bring agaiust me?" Le persisted. ._Never?" I satd, haughtily. • "Am I, then, to be coudemned un heard ?" - Leave me:" I reiterated, passionately. "For I never will call yuu hubliand. again !" "Rosa r he. eahl, gravely, remember that the decision of this hour will last forever.."' 'So let it he!" I uttered. He turned WNW ; hut as he turned a cold hand encircled my wrist—the lovely Lady in black was by my side again like a phantom. "Stop a minute," she murmured. "1 am your husband's first wife "Isabel!" he cried. starting as if some stunning blow had stecken him. "Yes, Isabel," she answered, "vrur un worthy, sinning, yet repentant wife. Now listen, Rosa Rayner, to the story of my life, and your husband be acquitted or condemned according tht:reto. And in a low, monotonous tone, like one reading a death warrant, she told of how an old lover had wooed and won her away from her wife fidelity, ere yet the honeymoon had waned over her bridal flowers; how she had fled with the guy Lothario; how judgment and repentance come all too late, when her false lov er left her to her fate. "My life is blighted," said she. "but it is 130 reason that yours. too, should with er. The only reason fur Edward Rayner's silence is a sense of pity and delicacy to ward me—toward one who am not worthy .of it. Oh. child child! his heart is a heart of gold ; be thankful that you have won its love. I speak this as one may speak from the grave." I rose and tottered toward my hus band. Edward—can you forgive me?" "Mv Rosa!" And all this time he never spoke to the shadowy form in black. - - - The/next morning Niagara Falls was all in a commotion. Mrs. Mortimer, the pale beautiful widow, whose room had bteu next to mine.had accidentally stsay ed too near the ledge of rock that over hangs the American Fall, and this boil ing Whirlpt,ol below had been at once her con) and her gray... Two or three little bop had seen her fall. "She walked right •orer," said they; "just like she was blind, and didn't see the water." "May Heaven hare mercy on her sonl r f whispered. And Edward, drawing me closer to him, marmmed : "god bless you, for those words, my wife!" Saw Lord John Russell to Hume. at a social dinner, "What doyen consider the obj et of legislation "The greatest good to the greatest flambee' "What do -you consider the greatest number r eon tinned his lordstup. "Number one, my, lord," was the commoner's prompt reply. "Wind"...your boviness r meted &Plage of a prisoner at.the bar: := epos, you might call me a locksmith.* "When did you last work at yeartrade 1* "Last night; when I heard a call for the perlice I Made atott for the front door." SAW 0 pompons husband, whose "rife had stolen op behind nod given him a kies. "Madam, I mosider nub an set indecorous." "Krause roe," said the wife, "I didn't know it was you." Tn higher we take the thermometer np a mountain the lower it Om TIRIL Cr•PME 8.T•7320 111.2C;FEST 0 G1,4=071) 136.1)TX) CiTZI , IIL CPCII:II2I7'X'IRV4. yorced man ? the successor to a heart which had lost all the bloom and fresh ness of a tint love ? . I was crying and sobbing with all the agonized anguish of a sixteen-year-old bride, who first finds out that lite is not all a rose twined holiday, when a soft,coul hand fell on my lrow. "Pardon me; but I was passing your half- opened door, and I could not help hearing your sobs. I, too, have seen trouble, Will you let me help comfort. you ?" tine was tall and slight, with dewy, lovelike eyes, u face like Raphael' Ma donna's, and a dress of deep mounting t that made her ivory skin appear whiter than it actually was. . . The tender light of her pitying eyes ; the aweetaympathetie 'tunes of her Tuive went to my heart at once; I fell weeping on her ehoulder. "I don't know who you are," sobbed I; "but, oh, I am. Very unhappy." She listened to tuy tale with soft, wist ful interest. "Do not judge him harshly," she said. "Remember be is your husband. Wait and let him speak for himself." "Never!" I cried, indignantly. "He has deceived me ; that is enough. Where are my trunks? I will return borne at once, and never look upon hunface again." "Of whom are you speaking. RONA ?" I started and uttered a low cry—my unknown comforter and. companion hur ried from the twilight room, murmuring some incoherent apology as she went.— In the opposite doorway stood my hus band. "Edward !" "Yes, Rosa, it is I. Before I had reach ed Buffalo I discovered that I had left dome important papers behind,hy mistake. My journey is deferred until to-morrow morning And now will you give me stone explanation of this meet, ry ?" By this time my pride had nailed to the rescue. "The m3stery is very simple of volu • tion," said 1, haughtily. "Ouly that lam about to leave you—" -To leave you—ut once Ind forever!" I repeated firmly. "The 11to,band of a divorced a ire ; th cold-hearted, treacher ous deceiver—" "top," he sand, a'•d with a strange tremor of repressed eiciti-ment in his voice; "say no more. Rosa! Rust ! Surely I mat be dreaming. This never can he truer' "Letve Wease," I said, faintly; "I would rather be alone." WUAT Tnicy DID. DT 1189. A. M. NIZEM,AN Solomon Brown had five daughters.— The oldest of these was twenty-six, the youngest eeventeen. In wined/ the heath en countries it is considered *misfortune when a girl is burn. Solomon Broin's mind may have been colorer' with this heathenism—though he owned a pew in the clinrch,and contributed conecieatious• ly to the donations—fur he shook hie head in solemn disapproval as his family increased, declaring that girls were, and find been since the world began, a failure. Dear lit tle Mrs. Brown emphatically de clared her skepticism as to this broad ,fts saying with some spirit,"that the girls could nut be dispensed with, and as the great Father had seen fit to create them, it must have been with the con eciousness that they might he pronounced good. Of course they were good." She would just ask Mr. Brown, what there was, that might be said truthfully, in dis paragement of their own children ? "If they were boys, Lucy," says Brown footing up a dry good bill, "they would be self-supporting. If, fur instance, Ma tilda had been named Solomon—and, you know, that name has fallen to the elaest in our family fur generations--she, or hr rather, might have learned a trade, and would now be able, not only to care for 'himself, but to render needful assistance to the family. lam sure, I never blamed Betsey Trotwood. though I didn't under stand her, that she couldn't forgive Da vid for not bring a girl. I have never for given one of my girls that they disap pointed me." "Dear me, Solomon, I'm sure the girls are doing the best they can. Matilda is a very good dress-maker—" "Bosh!" cries Solomon, impatiently, "the country is over run with dress milk ers. I tell von aN this feathers, fuse and flummery is ruining us—that is the peo. - ple. Don't you understand every addi tional girl is ad additional burden to some one ? How much do you suppose, Luce. I paid nut for ribbons last year? Only one hundr.d dollars?"" qiut, my husband, there were fire of the girls you know, not counting myself, and that makes twenty dollars only,. fur each. lam sure that isn't extraragent at all. - There's deacon Smart's Sallie paid that much fur one Homan sash. Our girls are very handy about turning their things and fixing th.m up as good as new. There were only twenty-four yards in tha dears dresses this Spring—that is in the dress of each—while Mrs. Million used thirty fire, and I must eay that our girls' were much the prettiest." "And would have boas. er•fti.:M atilt if they'd been made out 'of eight," growled Salomon, desperately footing up the un ciani r 8 again. Figures are obstinate facts, Solomon, in lacing tiie aunt total of united columns, became an obstinate man. I tell von, Lucy,we can't go on in this way, that certain. Something must be dune. Why don't they get married ''•' But that was a useless question.for this was a New England State, and there were several thousand more women then men, and as one Inat. was allowed only one wife, it wail quite impossible that at could be provided with a husband. "Dear me, Solomon," said the little wife, smiling humorously. "You forget that this isn't Utah—that there is actu ally no one to whom we nay seal the dar lings; that you, yourself, would quite disapprove of theirgoing basband bunt ing." Now, while Solomon bad been talking thus complainingly and confidentially, to his wife, his five unappreciated daughters had been listening from the next room. "The old bear," cried Matilda, the old est, under her breath. "Nur pupa," said Lucy, the youngest, her blue eyrs full of tears. "Poor papa, indeed." snapped out the second sister.. "1 do believe he begrudges us the. bird's allowance which we eat? "Bird's allowance! Josephine, I'm lure there isn't a heartier family of girls in this country than ours. No Canary's por tion would do for me—of that I'm sure! I do think it a shame.that five great girls able to work u we are. should depend up on one little ohj broken down man for their support. Come now, 'Tilda, isn't it ridiculous? Don't you think thst might do etimething?" ' "I'm sure," Matilda said, "that I've been tryit,g just the best that I knew how.— You know I bought the machine, and then—then—" "Well," Lucy said, laughing, "poor pa pa had to make the payments on it." "I'm sure 1 culdn't help that, because I had expected to get plenty of sewing to do, and sewing you see—" "Is a drug in the market. No 'Tilde. and Jiisephine, and Farah, and Flora, all of those pretty, traditional ways of a woman turning an honest penny are out of date. I've been thinking this over, and I've made up my mind. Come girls will . you stand by me? ' Have you the courage to, lay aside your dainty slippers, to en ewe your feet in heavy shoes, to let the sun iies brown freckles on your face, in fact—to wear a bloomer ?" "A bloomer," the tons cried together " Yes, my dears, fur of course the work, that I have Lihrout for us to do, couldn't be done in trains. I have been thinking that we had better take Jacob Sloam's farm fort veer," and, Miss Lucy, as she spoke, opened her _pocket knife and com menced whittling a bit of stick in true Yankee style. "Jacob Eloam's farm!" they cried aghs.ss. - , "Yes, dettis,l tag over talking to Ja cob yesterday, and he's quite delighted that we should have thought of making the experiment. lle issuer, be says, that it will he a success. Only think girls, how nice it would be, if wecould betpthe old farmer now; 'after all of 'her trouble he has had with ns! And what a tri umph, too it we could prove to him, that girls area blessing, at least; if not ex actly that, atilt worth being born. What say you? ' Will `von Oat your Dint/ to the contract? Come tow, don't be cow. ardly, tortry to Mud excises foi shrink ing a duty. Jacob am, hot ea, able-bodied people than we are." "But what will the world say? And then, dear Lucy, you have had an offer you know. Will Frank Lawler be esti& tied that his tuture wife should engage in an unladylike occupation. "If he is dissatisfied that a woman should do what she may do well, I'm very glad to have an opportunity_ of learning it beforenn Mrs. Frank rawler,itistead of Lucy Brown. If I have girls, yon may rest assured that they shall .be self-sup porting,quite indepciulent of outside help toward gaining a livelihood. If they have a talent iur music above the ordi n try possession, they may become teach ers; if not, they will not spend four hours a day, in useless beating of their white, helpless fingers against some ill used piano keys. If they are greatly gift ed with superior intelfigeace, they may go into the professions, if not, they will learn 'trades—l don't mean milliners and dress-makers, and so on—but nice little light trades, like watchmaking, and en graving, and drafting and, indeed, heavi er ones, if they have the muscle. Be all have muscle. There is no excuse that we should remain idle. The world is full of work, and I can't understand many honest calling should be unwomanly.— Come girls. let go and sign the contract, which binds us to work old Jacob's farm." "Dear me, Solornon,said the wife Lucy. in the evening, "you could never guess what those girls have done." 'Perhaps porchased each a new silk, growled Solomon, without lifting hiseyes from his paper. "so, indeed not," cried the wife indig. nantly. "They've rented Jacob Sloam's farm—eighty acres, and twenty of it in fruit." "What," ci ied Solomon, the paper fal ling helplessly at his feet. "You don't surely mean our girls, not Matilda, Josephine, aud Sarah, and Flora, and Lu cy ?" "I mean no one else's surely," the wile replied, a little crossly. •"They take pos session in the morning. Jacob Sloam is to find everything, and they are to have one-half." "I'll just tell you, Lucy, what it.-is.— This is the most consummate piece of humbug I ever heard of. It will be &dead failure, and they'll make themselves the laughing stock of the neighborhood. Farming, indeed! Why "filth' is that afraid of her hands that she never sweeps even, without gloves; and Flora wraps ner head in a towel to dust. I've seen Josephine do the breakfast things with a fork i and Sarah wraps her lingvrs with a bit of cloth, each one separately it she has vegetables to prepare. Brace farmers they will make!" And Solomon Brown went back to his paper with a scorund, obocale. - Solomon, too, was sans of a fogy. Wo men were women; and women they must remain to the end of the. chapter. A pr.-at pity, he haul often raid, that it was so, hut nature could not be tortured out of her old, w.ll worn channels by educa tion. Ere, he considered. as having been a vicious sort of little body. bending poor Adam's nose down close to the grindstone at.il there her daughter had relentlessly held it, through all of the !Ong years since that first tragedy. Solomon believed in progression. He thought that the sciences might be better uuderetood.that new discover* were to be made; that the Atlantic would be cross ed in a balloon ; but Solomon's radicalism didn't include the possibilities of the corn ing woman. She was to be what she had been from the beginning. So he pooh poohed at his daughters farming, not be lieving that any good thing should come out,of Nazareth. It was an up hill road. to those five dainty daughters of Solomon Brown's.— But in• one thing they resembled their father. They were obstinate, and when they learned his prediction us to their failure, they were quite determined not to They were op early and worked late.— Their strawberries were a success. They gave Erployment to a number of girls in the village in gathering their email fruits, thus recogniz ing the true policy, that wo men must help each other. 'Riley kept one hired man, and under his instructions theae-,yourg ladies learned to turn a ready hand to all kind of farm labor. Old Solomon Brown's "pooh-poohs," grew less emphatic-and he began to speak with a sort of shame-faced pride of "Our girls' place." Then when the fame of these women farmers had traveled far,and people came from a distange to iropect personally their success. Solomon begun to feel proud in saying, "yes sir, they are my girls." "Your girls are all boys then ? said one smiling, quoting Rip Van Wrinkle. "Just as good as boys," said Solomon Brown blushing, at the retraction of old sentiments. But theories roust fall before convictions, sad well filled wheat. fine potatoes, good corn, ect., were more convincing to Solomon of his daughters' worth, than volumes favoring the "Sub jection of Womaii:r . .SolomonTrown's daughters still 'hold Jscaib Sloarri's fain. Lucy the youngest is married to Frank - Lawler, but instead her going home to him, SR is the manner of the - world. he camp home to her. Under the homestead laws woman that isn't at the head of a family—that ie widow—ca.mot pre-empt land.. If this was mot the este. I do believe: that one of Solomon Brown's girls would go west and take np a piece of land. As it is, there are all gong in the spring and Solonicin will enters hundred and sixty acres in hie own mune, which-in reality will tie long to his daughters, as it will be pur chased with the pmilts of their farming Jacob Sloan* land. •.-A CLAY eonnty, Hentneiry, anetiquerr pulled out a, revolver : and announced: ."If any, roan .gors to frolieing sronini aline the sate is going on 1 - shall inter rapt - him in his career. Tot ibem sbot guns over 'by the fent* no' leave 'est Ovum to :a var among the - dry-goods merchants a Denvermilicoes were redue • _ ed to two cents . per yard; and every editor, reporter and ininister In the ,place now wean a shirt-lcaudy in come matances, bit Stillwell*, Two.nroLtA ROI PER TR* R ADVARCP, Termsliv Nut PAID IN ADVANCE. 50CTS RZTIS4I4. 111 E VOICELESS. We count the broken lyres that rest Where.the sweet wailing singers slumber? But o'er thetr silent sisters breast The wild Cowers who will stoop to number! A few can touch the magic string. And noisy fame is proud to win them: Alas for those who never sing, But die with all their music In them,. Nay, grieve not for the dead alone, Wham song has told their heart's sad story ; Weep for the voiceless, who have known The cross but not the crown of glory; Not where Leucadian breezes sweep O'er Bappho's memory haunted billow, But where the glistening night Jews weep On nameless sorrows church yard pillow. O hearts that break and give no sign, Save whitening lips and faded trtwses, Till Death pours out his cordial wine, Slow-dropped from Misery's crushing presses ; If singing breath or echoing chord To every bidden pang were given What endless melodies were poured: .as sad as earth, as sweet as heaven —O. W. D.omcEs. (Cc.mmuu!Wad j INFLUENCES AiT HOME. Of all the blessed opportunities, privileges,and responsibilities God vouch-safes to man, none is so great and holy, and none so lightly assum ed and so tampered with, as when one Is called upon to be prophet, driest, and king in his own household. You sir. who have invoked of high Ile-men this grand prerogathß, and who by Divine favor kayo been ordained to this holy of fice, accept and hold it I pray you, with clean bands and a pure heart, remembering that you 0011 find such privileges and opportunities to honor God nowhere else. Remember, too,that having invoked and obtained these oppurtuni• . tits, there is now no 'middle ground. Through you henceforth—in time and in eter nity—Gcd is honored, and mankind are blessed or cursed. I speak not to 'those. who, with perverted tastes and low desires, abandon the family hearth to seek enjoyment at saloons and club-mums, but christian or christian-like men, who sit, night after night, In the midst of your family group around the evening lamp, like a night-mare, hushing their prattle and their sports, that you may have rest and quiet, yet meaning in your heart of hearts,to do your last for those whom you love with .a strength far greater than you love your life. The poor, the sorrowful, the lost of this world have claims upon you, which as you hope fur heaven, you must not slight; but do not, I be seech you, earn for your children, so much money, and come to them, once in a while able to give them a taste of your sympathy, your counsel, your love. Liave you any idea how hungry they are for this? Their appetite may he dormant never having been whetted by the taste; but try them by once letting them know the flavor, and it shall be a new rich joy to your . own AnaL There are moments in my past life, that finger friendly in my memory still, and cause my heart many a throb of exquisite delight, when ray mind wanders back to boyish sports and boy hood's home. Depise no to win those souls to linked to yours,thun,by any or all innocent arts. Take your cbildren,boys and girls,into your con fidence; make them, by' word and act, familiar with every avenue to your heart ; let them have no excuse fur breathing' Into any elk of those who have a whit less right than you to Lear it, the story of their temptations and sorrows,their conflicts, their defeats And victories. flake them acquainted thus with you and learn to thoroughly know them. Study the character ol that eldest of yours, and turn his mind by gen tle leading, from Its swift rush down the track its taking to viler things, through the narrow crowded gateway of dime literature. Oh give him, I pray you from the storehouse of wisdom you have garnered by long experience, with a liberal hand, and season it with that richest of earthly tannings, a father's love The memory of a mother's constant virtue, and unwatching love may win the boy back to the phis of rec titude; but a babas steady hand may, int with:111;10st always hold bins and lead him shad ! . Ily there. It is fur you, even more than for his mother, to make the memory of his earliest borne the sweetest, the holiest, the happiest of his life. Do you not know that, almost inevi tably, your son will begin life by speaking, thinking, praying, or swearing as you do. Bind him then to virtue, to honesty, to truth, by cords which no time can sever, which no alter influence can break. So win him and hold him. that,ss be becomes a man like you, it may be his pride and glory to be like you, because to him you are the illustra tion and the word or all manliness and godli ness. You tremble as you see him coming to man's estate, and know that the way into and along the world,tor thew dear ones, must be be on the right band and on th left, behind anti before, with temptation in every form and wearing every disguise. Haring done this fur all your children, you will have endowed them with a heritage greater and more precious than silver and gold, and Louses and lands. Be not over anzlous,either, about that other best or gifts, an education in schools and colleges fur your children. Stir io'lheir willing minds a taste for the bidden things of ' , dence and iiter atm, and you will foster such a biltager and thirst fur knowledge; that in due time. "'they shall be tilled." Leave only the ground unoccu pied and troops of evil spirits will march in, to build their fir» and burst their sactiSess on your neglected family altar. We blesa,or in jure by our influence. Our affections are , the batteries of life—the menhir» of our bodies-- tbe of our eliarecte». 1 have already in this letter, over Trachea the •free gives in the alumna of this - paper. And in a figure letter 1 will gin my busquehanna County friends, a •1101 41164730°n of the In'. ditinapolls Xrporition. roe the petivfe of the nourishing city of Intiianaindin 1 can sincerely gay have an eye anc a taste for all that la heautiftd that cannot be excelled. Danny D. CAZUOT. ,-Jeifentonvne.TtuSrna. VEBI7BMG. An who enrol any account in imsineso,deas vial, or lti a social senee, are bend ited s ofleu as their seines are brought before the Time the grass, Immeasurable advantage of ad. eerti.ing. It b the most effective and the most legitimate way in which to become known M a Mainervierse: tio parses, In ancient, or mod. era throes hes made his mark in a business, a polideal, or SOCUIi point of OTT whose borne had not become popular by publicity. °Men= hy: Is she opposite of popularity; and ell alw °haute who are not generally known, and how coura - paroan ia. tossintem become lamina wire ffe*llM cdvarticrl _ •-:'- NUMBER 52. Mummaladed.] "711 E OLD HEARTEISTONE." It was a pleasant placr—the hearth of our earlier years. There were but few . gathered thereat, but their love and worth were great, and Ilia's ehowest blessiagi were flung around them. Each to the other was a friend and companion ; 0 1; the sunshine of happiness played upon out heads. But all this changed at last. Death tame and stood at our door, and there WAS mourning and sorrow In our house. She, whose love was to ns as manna to ttus famishing had passed over the Border Land, and for us there seemed neither hope or corn• fort. There was fresh clay on the hcartlpstona that weary, wintry night, for our feet had te tcked it there from her grave made on the As time wore on, our little band scattered np and down the world. There was osa whose restless feet grew warty of the cl.l beartbicone, so be went away one night, and has never come back again. But sty feet always found arovion the old hearthstone, and its memory shall linger ever with me as the sweet incense rising Irons the June-fleids of the past; and come what may, In the future, I trust, we shall never prove unworthy of the baptism that a 3rotto , , prayers brought down from Heaven upon us, era site wandered forth from the hearth-stone to the still land of the Immortals. Illy her In• Munch be ever with the brother, who has strayed afar otf, at hl as 1 recall the past, I east not refrain from asklnz,:-- Oh r why on this darks/amt. en:P*4 ht• evenlcg of rain and fleet. Rest m• ice eh alone on the hi-Whiten* Ohl latices ere those tither feet, ' &re they treudhog the ;Whiny of "tripe . - That trill Lir, us t,esth," shovel , Or here the? trrlde•trps tint will sampan A Winer • "totems lute I° Vimi MOTHER' g 11008 E: now many happy umoglits am called ep by those two beautiful words! Is ther.r—can . there be any place so full of pleasant Memories 'as "mother'simuse." Whether our paths may be through dark or pleasant places, beneath the waving palms of sunny isles, of in the chilling shadows of icy mountains, our hearts turn with unalienable love and longing to the dear old house which sheltered us In childhood.— d friends may beckon us to newer leen - ea, and loving hearts may hind us Gist to ' pleasant homes but we are not satisfied with them abut* for there is one place more fair and lovely than them all, and, that Is the beloved "Mother . ' House!" It may be old and rickety, to the eyes of the stranger Thu windows may have been broken and patched long ago and the tblos worn through and mended with pieties of tin, but It 10 -etiti-mother's htrxitrona r whletr ia looked tot.t at life with hearts lull 0: hope, building wouderlul castles In cloudland which railed long ago; but thanks to the good Father, mother's 'house IS left us still, and weary with the busy turmoil of We, weary with Ourselves, we turn our steps to. ward the dear bcuse ut rmt, and et Its thrwholl lay our burdens down. . Here we have watched lire come and go.-- Here we have folded still cold haulsover hearts as still, that once beat full of love for us. Here we hav!welconted brothers and aisters into llfe, watched for the Brat word from baby lips, guided the tottering baby feet from help lessness to manhood, and here have watched. with aching hearts, to see the, dear one turn from the home nest, out Into a world which his proved hut a snare and a temptation, to many wandering feet. And-here we gather strength to take up our lives again, and go pattatitiyAn. to the end. But though the world calls us, end we may find friends good and true, we turn to the dtar old home, when tmubles come. forhelp and cquifort. God grant that Cur us 'all there may long remain a "motheeellanse." • SATURDAY lUGHT. Ilow many a kiss have been glverki-bOltr many a caress—how many a lookothauHto, many a kind word—Low many a promise has been broken—how • many '• heart; hal .been wrecked—how many a soul lust--how miny'•a loved one lawe:eiriU the narrow chamber—low many u babe Ims gone forth Irma ear* to_beay. en—how many a little crib, or emote stands 's lept now, which last SatordaX night field.** moat of the treasures of the heart. A. week, to a Listmy. A week mat o! events of garrote:or of gladness, which people need heed. Go home you heart-erring wanderer. On !tonne •to the cheer that awaits jou.wronged waifs entente* hillove. Co home to youctarnily, man of least. Ilea. GO Loma to I:host:you love, mar of toll, and give one night 14 the joy e and et;mthrts feet dying by. Leave your books with, eompleied figures—leave everything—your ttirty shop- 7 - your business store., .Dest with those you love; for God alone knows what neat' .. - atarday alght may, bring them. Forget the world of emceed battles with which lire rarrovied .We Draw close around the family hearth. Eittur. day, night. Las awaited your coming with' sad.' nest, In tears and saence: Go home to those you love, and int you .bask in• the laved pres ence and meet to return the embrace. of your heart's pets, strive to bo a better, man sad to bless God for giving hits weary children ao dear altepplug stone In the Ova to the Eternal; as Saturday night. • ' • - ' • '- BE CHEERFVL Emerson says: "Do not hang a dismal Oletore on the wall, and do not deal. with sables. and gloom In your eonrirsition.7 Veerherfollow& with Away with their fellow/ whogoLowllng through life and dl the whre ;suiting for birds of paradise. 11.'401 cannot laugh and bogey should tnik well to himself.. Heshould last and pray moil_ hi, tux breaks tomb Into Ihrbt.", magi then takes up Ilia _strait: : "Aurirpeoplp base an'-Idea that they comfort the Meted when 'ibey groan over them. Don't diire home tbrough man'isuaL When you bind up a broken bone of the soul, and you ;want splint* do not make them of ellit•JM3l.",iAfter such counseling' and admonitions, - lay adds your longtime*. , Iftestaarra bee titere mites pt railroad than 3laanrLu.ett■, the former having 1,00, and the latter I,tql& In 103 Massatbasatta Lad triSk and Minnesota only 131 mike _ - ' ltddy.isedet femme bps be. so great In grightnd that . theytin be Lad asagl ligg4 Si two eb1014; gage.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers