THE . .,,..8 .- i(ONTROSE DEMOCRAT
E. B HAWLEY & Co., Proprietors.
VOLUME 30.
THE DEMOCRAT
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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.