Newspaper Page Text
• Wm. 0. enmer.
E. B. HAWLEY & CO.,
E. B. Hawley,
TILE MONTROSE DEIOCRAT,
AND GENERAL JOB PRINTERS,
Nenlease, Susquehanna County, Pa.
Onna—West Side or Public Molloy.
18. A. IL MeCOLLUM,
kriveerre at Lew OPlre over the Reek. Mastrove
Pc Mastro., May 10. 1071. tf
D. W. SEARLE,
•rroRwEY AT LAW. •mc• lover lb. /t•r• et 11.
/..saw, Is tk• Brick Bi•ck, Y•atrew, Pa. [awl U
W. W. RIITTH,
•ARIACC AND CHAIR lIANUPACTURENS.—Iroo.
Math •treat. Montrose. Pa. Taal. I. 1869.
H. a 80 - 17021,
AUCTIONEER, awl brapaasaa ►.a:r,
aal OL( Frlandsville. Pa
UNITED STATES A WCTIONSER,
♦ee. 1., Isif. Add iron, a roolitys , Ps
CIVIL E.NGINZEit AND Lao SMRTZTOII.
P. 0. addreae. Fraokllo Forks,
anequehauna Co., Pa
111110:U11LE TALL:Mt, lloatrese, Pa. Skop eye!
CLadlar'• Star.. ♦it orders tilled la draterateityla.
C• 1 flag do.e oa abort notice. and warranted to It.
A. 0. WARRILY,
A TTOIMET A A LAW. Beauty, Back Pay. Pen.lon
sad Bum, oa Claims attended to. Office dr
•eor below Boyd's Store. Ideatroae.Pa. (Al. 1.'69
W. A. CROSSMON,
Acoraoy at Law, Mica at tha Court if...., I. tba
Cua•lni.an'. Mkt. i►. ♦. Cartearrou.
11.•troaa, soot. 1611.—tf.
JOICHRZIE, 4 CO
Dealers I. Dry Goods, Clothing, Ladles a■d lii.see
A.. Shoes. Also, agenta for tha great American
Tea an! Co(.. Company. [Montrose, July 17, '72..]
DR. W. W. SMITE,
Daaarra Roam. at his welling, next door Clot of the
R•pablicart printing oface. Orlea boars from 9 A..
t• I P. lloatroaa, Iday 3, It37l—tf
LA W OFFICE.
FITCN t WATSON, Attorneys at Law, at the old ofEca
at Us tley t !Itch, Montrose, Pt
F. lITOZ. (Jan, 11 . '71.1 V. W. WATSON.
Diuler le Drags. Medicines, Cberniula. Palate, 01le,
D. stalk. Teas, Spice*, Fancy Geode, Jewelry. Per.
fawery, Le., Brick Duck, Mont.ae, Pa. Established
I,all. (Feb. I. 1311.
SCOVILL & DEWITT.
♦ttornga at Lan , •nd nolitinna in Danknlptey. Office
431C•art Street,•rer City National Bann. Dm:.
ha entoo N T. Wm. 1L Scomt,
DR. W. L. RICHARDSON,
PK TSICIAN L !SURGEON', Leaders hi•professiona
serricesta the citizens °Cilantro's° an d vicinity.—
Dice at hisrs•idence, oa the corner east of Sayre •
Ire.. Fo•ndrr. (Ariz. 1. Mi.
CHARLES N. STODDARD,
>ea:arta Bards •nd Wt.*, Hats and Caps. Leather •nd
~udmg•, Nato Street, let door below Boyd'• kers.
W•rk made to order. and repairing done neatly.
Moat - ass Jan. t IM.
SHAVING A\D HAIR DRESSING.
'hop le the MeV Pesti:like bendier.. where he will
or foetid rawly to attend all abo any Want. ahythiop
It la lit, Montrone Pa. Oct. IL leib9.
DR S. W. DAYTON,
1 tiOItGEON, tenders his 'entre, to
the cuirass or Great Bend and vicinity. Odic. nt hie
residence. opposite Barnum Haase, CS% Bend
DR D A. LATHROP,
d.nWotan, Fist run Traar•t. Barns. •t the Foot of
street. Call and co►salt in all Chronic
?RE RATTI DAUBER. bar moved his shop to the
building occnimed by J. it lie Win. wt." he ir pre
pared to do ail kind* at work in hi• lin, each a. ma
king •witcbe., pada. etc. ad work done cm short
name and pricer low. Please nail and ler Era.
Dealer at Staple and Fancy Drr Goods. Crockery, Hard
•. Iron. Stove.. Drugs. Oil, and Paints, [toots
and Shoe.- Hats •nd Cap*, Fare. Buffalo ft•bea. Gro
ceries. Srovisioos. to.
N. -Ytilord, t a., Nor, 6, —.ll—tf.
If .1. II ARRINGTON winbes to Inform tbepahlic that
baring rectal the Exchange Motel In Montrone.. he
tr now pnroare4 to accomaodate the travel.: pobllc
In Bryt.clann sty'.
Montrone, And. VI,
•TTORDETS AT LAW, har e removed tu their Neu
Office, opposite the Tarbell flame,
It. B. Lrrrt..x.
BILLINGS STI2O UD.
FIRE AND LIFE INEI7 AA:WA ACENT.
OrL•toeon attended to prompOy, on fair terms. Office
lir•t door east of the book n• Wm. U. Cooper *Co.
Publir avenue, liontroet, Pa. Aug. LIFO.
any 17,18711 BILLING* NINGLID.
B. 7'. d E. IL CASE,
U kttNESS-It AKERS. Oak Barnes.. light and heavy,
at luvrest cash wire.. Also, Blankets, Breast Blan
kets. Whips and everything pertaining to. the line,
cbesper than the cheapest. likpairing done prompt
). sod in otod style.
klont.usc, Pa.. Chet. Z. IT./.
J. D. VAIL
U•seorsrnl2 PISTP ICI 41.21 atro S IMO Ens. Has permanently
;mated himself In Montrose, Ps.. where he will prompt
ly amend to all 001. In his profession with which be may
be favored. °Mee and residence west of the Conn
Meuse, near Fitch & Watson'. office.
Montrose. February 15,1871.
THE PEOPLE - 8 MARKET.
PIULU} Bann. Proprietor.
Fresh and Salted Mew,. flam.. Pork. Bologna nap
alm etc_ of !be bon qualiiy, conatantly on band, at
pocca co .alt
llontrope, Jan. 14. 14,21.-14
6taar Boni, Pa. Situated near the Erie Railway De
pal • large and commodious boast, des undergone
• thromagb repair. Newly reirrostied rooms and /deep
ing apartment...splendid table...nod all thing w p. la-
log • Fl st clay. hotel. 11E.NRY ACKERT,
101. h, Proprietor.
Justice of the Pere: oftice over L. S. Lenhetto's Store
Great Bend borocch. tinequehtions County, Penn's.
B the net letnent of the docket, of the late least
fteckhoer, deceased. Orate boor, front 9to 111O'ClOCk
• ma , sad from I to 4 o'clock p. cu.
Great Bend. Oct. Yd, Mt.
BUR VS & NICHOLS,
ellig.e.itS In Drugs. Medicines. Chemical,. Dy.
•tlll,,Pslnts,olls, Varnish. Liqopre, Spices. Fancy
art.des,Patest liedlthaca. Perfumery and Toilet Ar
e,.. varProteeption. earofmlly colapocuzded.—
Br.k. stud., Montrose, Pa.
A.. el Bunn..
u. 21 PM
i 0 . . It ELM)
met Noty aud Cliou
AT THIS OFFICE.
';'' . 'is. .i:. ONTROSE iEVIOCRAT.
TWO DOLLARS PER YEAR IN ADVANCE.
What If your life had been a barren thing—
Barren of all that made it good and wise,
But rich in all that fetters the free soul,
And calm before the world's close scrutinies?
Think it one day upon that desert waste
A grerft light fell, and, dazzled and struck
Too wrapped it like a mantle round your heart
Nor asked of fate what followed close behind,
Suppose sometimes it glowed clear, warm and
And li ft ed you above all common need;
Sometimes It faded pale. and wan and weak,
And of your toilsome track took little heed?
Whereat you gathered, trembling and afraid
The treasures of your life—all that was good
The sacred trusts kept clean from alien hands
By years of melancholy solitude.
And cast them down—a costly gift—to stay
But for a little time the lessening light,
Dreading so much the purposelem, dark way,
The solemn, dread eternity of night.
Think if the bribe were powerless, and you lay,
Voiceless dethroned—no retugt—none to save
Would you not doubt the love of help and and
And ask of Earth one boon—naught else -a
THE TWO BRIDEGROOMS.
A wild scream of agony, a few smoth
ered groans, uad the young man after two
or three more stabs sunk to the ground
ut death, as the murderers who stood over
"There, that has finished him I guess,"
said. the more ruffianly looking of the
"Yes," said the other, "but had we not
better make use of it?'' pointing to the
ocean close by,-.
"Perhaps so," and the nal) shouldered
the dead man, carried him to the cliff of
ricks which overhung the water's edge,
gave one toss, and the dark, wild waves
passed overlie body of George fitigston
as he sank in the deep waters.
"Well, there is one good job done," ex
claimed the one who had stood still dur
ing this part of the scene.
"Yon as well say so, for it leaves you
sole heir to the millions of money and
other possessions of old Merrill," said
"You shall not go upaid; here are five
hundred dollars, and call on me to-mor
row for two thousand more. The fair
bride and guests will wait long to-mor
row eve for my cousin the bridegroom,
(re the sea will give him op. Ile should
hare known wetter than to step between
me and a torte ne, and aboie all, to win
the only girl I love. I always bated him
Thus saying. he and his companion
mounted their nurses, and. mid the dark
ness and gloom of the night, and the
torrent of rain which was pouring down,
rode away from the place witch had wit
nessed the deed hf blood.
As they rode along by the edge of the
forest the cousin of the murdered man
thought he heard a sat castle laugh hot ne
along by the wind, and stopped to listen.
'What is it ?" asked his companion.
"I thought I heard some one
"Oh. it is only the wind among the
trees," said the other, and then rode
Ah ! James Leonard, that wild. fearful
night was a lilting time fur your hellish
deed, but you know not tout one besides
God witnessed ‘t, and you would have
shuddered had you dry a, ,t of the rei ribs
Lion which was to follow.
On the afternoon of the day followti,pi
the above occurrence, if we could bare
looked into one of the rooms of that an
cient mansion just back of the town of
T., we would have seen Alice Noble re
clining on a sofa, dressed for the wedding.
She was eery beautiful, just medium
height, with a finely rounded form, high
intellectual forehead, clear complexion.
and teeth as white as pearls. As the
beams of the setting sun streamed through
the open casement and rested on her
golden hair, they almost seemed V) form
a halo of glory around it. A sweet smile
was on her face as she murmured to her
-To-night I will be the bride of my
dear noble George. But aby d,,es he not
come? It is four o'clock, and he was to
be here at half•past three;" and she arose
and looked out of the window. "Jennie,"
calling to one of her bridesmaids, "has
not George come? I wonder what Call
keep him so long, and this our wedding
But be did not come. Two hours
passed, and no bridegroom made his ap
pearanc.e, until all in the house were anx•
Just after dark a earriage dashed up to
the door, from which James Leonard
alighted and with almost uncontrollable
grief said that his cousin, was missing:
that he went out d tv before on horseback
not expecting to return th it night, hot
about midnight the servants had heard a
clattering of hoofs, and going out he had
found the horse standing riderless by the
stable door. Search had been made for the
I missing master. brit all that was to t
found was a bloody dagger near Ale sea
h speaking Lang
Alice had given a shriek and fainted.—
All was now confusion The gnt eta went
home with vad and Alice awoke
fit only to go into the
from her fainti ,- 6
brat fiv er . kor days her life was des
paired of She recovered at last, though
b u t D S, that George was dead, would
be the same bright Alice she was
Ia the meantime nothing had been seen
or heard_Of the missing bridegroom, nor
could a single clue to the murderers be
found by the best detectises. It was long,
too, before James Leoliatd seemed to get
over the blow. He sympathized deeply
with Alice, and as had always borne a
good reputation, she received him as a
frequent visitor. Her fattier welcomed
him now because he had received all of
the immense fortune which had fallen to
George from their Uncle. Alice, though
had never thought of loving him, and
was unutterably surprised and pained
one day when be asked her to marry
"Oh! Mr. Leonar&no do not ask that,"
mid ell', 'I shall nerves marry. My heart
A Q VESTION
MONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAY, FEB. 11, 1874
is with Getr,,e, and I can never love an
He told her that he did not ask her
love now; if she would only marry him,
he would !rust to the future for that.
"I cannot, I cannot," said she, "do not
make me crazy."
But Le, , na.d, nothing daunted, went
to her father and broached the subject.—
The old man favored it for particular
reasons, and at night asked his daughter
why she 01 jeered to Leonard.
`Father }on know that I can never
love another now that George is gone."
"But," pers.sted her father, "Le..nard
is honorul le and respected, and withal
worth his millions."
••Oh I father, why will yon talk to me
thus? I tell you I cannot I will die first!"
and she burst into tears.
"Well, the then, fur I say you must
marry James Leonard ; remember, girl
I cay you most. It is the only thing that
wi!l save your father from bankruptcy,"
and he left the room.
The old man was angry now, and be
sides that, he owed Leonard a large sum
of numey, which he could not pay, and
his creditor had offered to cancel the debt
if Alice married him,
The next day when his anger was
was cooled, Alice's father told her of the
ci,eumstaucesin which he was placedand
said that only her marriage with Leonard
would save him from ruin, and urged her
until she consented ut last.
In a few dap Lenoard came to receive
her answer from her own lips, and she
told him, that 119 het father wished it, she
would marry him. but though he receivi-d
her hand. her heart would always he with
the one who was dead. and begged him
with tears and sobs nut to 111:.j,11 nn a
thing that would almost kill her. Ile was
inexorable, though, and would not release
As he was riding slowly home that
night dreaming of the future, he was
roused from his reverie by a baud placed on
his arm, and looking up be saw a dark
visaged man walking by his side, who ex
"Ila! thinking of your wedding, were
yrui ? You had better be thinking about
esenping the gallows, for I say. James
Leonard, your time has nearly come.—
Justice is on your track, and the sooner
you leuve the country the better."
"Get out of my way! You most be
crazy! Wko are you, any way ?" said
"John Mario! Surprised are you
You thought I was dead ? No, no. if that
dose was deadly, there was another that
counteracted it. James Leunardoce wer•
friends one.•, but von, thmking I knew
about too nay ofyour deed s.t honzh
to put me out of the way, and gave Me
poison. I did not die,as )ou see, for reas•
ons of my own am here to warn you to
flee for %our life if you would i‘ave it.—
The officers of josiice will soon be after
you to ;must you for the last murder you
committed. Ha! you] Shudder, do you
It was out enough that cunr hands were
yutir COUSIICS ldnod, but Viii
must almist force his attinanced bud: to
"I do not know who you are or what
von are talloug alymt ; so let me pass of,"
3,, id Leonard. - It you rant money. here
-Money ~- eicluimrd the man, -I was
had enough once, but I would not torch
the money of s murderer to-night it
were ;tart ing."
''IS-'ware w oat cay. if you value
you lifer . ,e armed Lenlinrd.,... fairly
raving with anger, as he put i•purs to h i ,
n.o,e and left the unto just in lime to
hear old, the words"your wedding night"
and :allotted dose, the road, mit tteting
to himself, "lie had not better cross my
path again, for I swear if he defeats mi
purpose this tine, I will murder him as I
would u dug."
it was just one year from the time diet
Alic e Noble aas to have been married to
George fingslomand again she was robed
in her wedding garments; for to-night
she was to be thy brideoldurms Le.inurd .
All was fesiive and mirthful in the housi
except the bride, who, with pale cheeks
and tearful eves,would nut have been rec
ognized as the happy, smiling Alice of a
year ago. She was thinking t f George
now. but oh! whist difterent thoughts
from those she-had when we first Saw her.
The change that the year had brought
almost made her cry out in agony. Must
it be that stir must marry one whom she
had almost learned to hate in the past
few weeks. and with him drag out a liv
ing death tor years ?
Her thoughts were stopped, though. by
the bridegroom coming in to lead her
down where the guests were assembled to
witness the marriage. Again she made
one last despairing appeal to hint to:re•
lease her, but in vain, and they descend
to the room, where all were waiting.
If she was tearful, site looked radiant
ly Leonard stood with pride
by her as the minister proceeded to per
from the ceremony.
lie had said only a few words, though,
w i le .. a man rushed into the room, es
"Iliad! I forbid the bans!"
Ile was a stranger to all but the bride
groom, who.as he recognized John Bark
turned pale for at moment, but think! g
to mislead' the company, said with ap
"It is only a crazy man who has escap
ed from the asylum. I knew him once.
so do not mind him, but go on with the
"I say you must not!" exclaimed the
man excitedly. "Will you unite that
pure young being with a murderer of the
blackest dye ? yes, mot-rime whose hands
are died iu the blood of his kindred."
"What do you mean ?" exclaimed a I.
"I will show you. George Hugston,
come and claim your bride, ' and us he
spile, a man pale and etarciated stepped
into the roum.and wasat once recognized
as the one whom all thought had been
Again as a year &fore all was confu
sion. Alice wish a cry of joy threw her
eels into the arms of hint whom she had
loved so faithfully, while all gathered
around in wonder.
"He has escaped r exclaimed the man
who Ent came in, as the galloping of a
horse was heard in the road, and all look
Devoted to the Interests of onr Town and County
ed around to see that Leotard was not
'•Let him go," said George, this night
has been punishment enough for him be-
sides what his euns.nenee will trouble
Then came questions to know how that
Georg-, whom all had supposed dead. was
yet alive and there. He said that on the
night when his horse came home alone.he
ails nick ID the edge of the woods on the
seashore by two men, one of whom drag
ged him from his horse before he could
defend himself, and the two stabbing him
several times,wleprived him of conscious
ness, but not before he had recognized
one of them as his cousin,James Le(mard.
They threw hint in the water then, but
that revived him,and he still had strength
1 1 enough left to strike out for the shore,but
wonld have drowned had it not been for
the man-John Harlo, who had seen the
attempted murder, and came to him in
his boat. Harlo lived miles away and
took hint to his house where he .had
but just recovered from Ills wound and
his sickness. He had not informed them
of his whereabouts for several reasons,one
of which was, he could not bear to think
that one of his own blond should be are
rested for murder, and so bad warned
Leonard through Harlo to escape; but he
meld wait no longer and' so had come
just in time to preveti the marring
All were horrid at the wickedness of
Leonard, but knowing well that he would
leave the country, agreed not tol follow
him. ;Now that. friends were there and
preparations were made, it Wa3 th 3 ugh
lust, tf Abe- and George were willing, to
have wedding yet. They were, and so
Alice stood up a second time. but now
with the 0..) of her choice. When the
ceremony was concluded, George clasped
her lc his arms, exclaiming, "Mine, now,
de.ith did almost claim me a
year ago," and both looked happy.
That night as Alice ascended the stairs
she again looked, but fir herdiale cheeks,
like the bright, happy bride of a year be
James Leonard was never heard of after
that. nor could any trace of his 11000111 -
Mire be found ; and in after Years Alice
used to tell her grandehildr•n how heady
their grandfather net his death on the
night before he 1111 d she were to be mar
ried, and of the two bridegrooms to oi.e
A PARISIAN NOVELETTE
She was only a poor-sewing-girl—noth
ing more. Her d.tys were spent in a flu.
tore, where, sub hundreds of ut hers, she
winked early and late to turn the jour
tat,ee that Inrmed her d4dy bread, and
her nights were spent up in a garret,whete
she now lived. She was u.•t even a Chris
!ant— few in Pars ar , , I believe—and
then churches are not for poor Fa_opteo on
knew—and when her sinitlcys came Chet
were such days of rest alter her hard,hard
week that she was glad to be natty fruit
the ciutvd and rattle and noise, andsu L
Ohe day there came to Li'e fac:ory sort
gedtlrtn. It. all fri,ilds or the propuetot
wallitt through and looked at the
machines. Low the girin worked then',
how nimbi,: their lingers wen-, and boa
the cloth 6 were cat—all Matter or fact
ettotigh It, the girls, but cations to theist.
II all laughed and joked and said
ovot.,tlltt.g to the girl, and one stopped
berme her chair art i said. "Whitt beauti
ful liair! - touching just so gently some
one of the long g,11,1-11 strands. She
blushed 'cry out, and they a alked on.
- Mane," said the proprietor. 'fee,
pretty hair, hut nothing elsr, she is only
a poor se‘‘in,g-girl, sot even, one of the
heads of the department; only a very
poor lorl. Monsieur."
As the strangers walked out there
caught in his P. , at a long thread of hair,
who h he laughed at, smiled, then Modem
ed slowly. placed it in the rich locket he
wore on his chain, and then passed out.
lie did not return again, but one day
passing the Boulevards she heard her
name called, "Marie !" A gendarme in
uniform stepped up and handed her a
card: 'Monsieur Henri de latrines,
:Noe %las surprised. Gentlemen do not
bother themselves about poor sewing girls
often; and then a Marquis. Who was
he? What Gould he mean ?
"Ile is here, Mam'selle, and Avisheit.to
speak to you. Will you go?"
She followed, she did not know why.
and when the soldier stopped at a rich
saloon, and the door opened, she stepped.
and saw the gentleman who spoke at
the factory 8. prno weeks ago.
Then she buret into tears—" Monsieur,
don't fur God's sake, Monsieur. I am
only a poor girl, and what can a marquis
want with nit ? For God's Sake, don't
plenre;" nod she buried her face in her
*1 he long fair hair fell in its two braids
d.osti over her shoulders, and as &be monk
almost on the floor it. coyered her almort
like a cloud.
Monsieur arose; he was an old man,
pa•t fifty, his hair was gray and his face
was jiard. clear cut., and cold, and his
eves were like steel, just so clear and
Aar') and cold ; he walked' to the window
01 the rich Bahian, and then, returning
half way,leaued with one hand on a chair
and the other tenderly, even so tenderly
fora hard old man, rested just for One
moment on her fair hair, and it trembled.
By malty strange ways and :each blood
had Monsieur come to be standing in that
place, and then for one moment there
seemed to float before him a vision of fair
Lorraine, a youth long ago, a face sitting
in a cottage. and two long braids of hair
a promise that when he returned, with
wealth and fame, she woulti be his. Years
of rod and pain, of success and triumph,
and a return to find her married to a
churl, and common country peasants and
trey both gone to Paris..
Since then Monsieur was known 'to be
a hard man—a very herd man ; and when
will) his legions in Africa it was said he
was a fierce one ; but lie was high in court
and all praised and hpnored him.
"He stood for a moment thue.and then
wondered to hiniself half aloud: "Marie,
is that your name ?"
"Your mother's name?"
"Was she from Basile in Lorraine?"
The hands were removed from the face
now and the fair soft eyes were raised
wondorously, but the face of Monsieur
was hard again, only just in the corners
of his mouth,where the curves were,there
was a trembling, a vague dream of some•
thing to be said, which died with the un
He took her hand, though tenderlv,and
as he held to the dour he stooped as she
turned and kissed her. Befurenhe look
ed he was gone.
After that she worked hard as ever in
the factory, and though she said nothing
she thought often of the great Monsieur,
and what it could all mean.
The time came, though, when she was
taken It Caine upon Ler in the street
when she would have fainted and fell but
that some 000 caught her. She was in
sensible for a long, long time, but in her
sickness she could hear no noise front the
court, and when ono day she awoke she
was lying in a rich room hung with pic
tures of marvelous beauty. Over the pil
low was her fair hair, and her hand was
thin and pale, and she was very weak.
Over by the window war the figure of a
man—an old man. she thought—half hid
in the heavy curtains. As he arose, how
ever, she was so weak that she clo , ed her
eyes, and then half sleeping and dream
ing, she could !eel him standing by the
Who it was she did not know, and
was too tired :mil weak to care hardlyi at
all; but one even ing,as the sunset stream
ed into the room, she found ..n the pillow
b•sale her a picture of a lady Viet eh.'
thought she had once Sal. It was a fair
lady —a very fair lady—and the lone.hair
hung in two braids down over the breast.
\h., was alone and looked at it curiously
and saw underneath inscribed. "Marie
de Lisle." "Marie de Lisle," that was her
mother's name, and the poor weak hand
wandered up to the pale face,
wondered what could IL mean.'
Well, the days passe-d, and she recover
ed. It was in mid July, and she must
go. Those around the chateau said, not
hint she could not stay. Somehow her
heart mild not let her; and so one night
when all were sleeping, she arose and
wandered awry back to Paris.
the (hit not'go back to the factory. He
might tied her there, and she dreaded
him now, somehow. with an indefinite
fear of she knew not what : and su. with
other Igor girls, she worked iu the cafes,
when• there was much talk now of the
war. Tioire was revolutionary talk, too.
01 what "the reds" would do were the
army away, anti once iii a while when she
.late d oak, she made t Microns inquiries of
- Monsieur the Mart i nis," she called him,
and once when his name was rend aloud
as,th, leader of a desperate charge, min
only retr , ated a hen borne back by soldiers
'fills time also passed, and Paris, iu
and - red yips" was in au up
roar. Napoleon had surrendered. Paris
had fallen. and alter the enemy had left,
the (Iry ,vas crazy, wild, mad and furious
with bid and Ike; but she morked on.
%% Lit .vas it a;1 to her, only a poor sew
ing•gol. rie, pt that bread was hard to
41 ..1, and at that very poor and dear?
llut one day she heard there was to he
an eseent•on ? What was that ? (July
something she had never seen ; and so
in the pi as of the srond she hastened to
where La Commune sated its red flag,
end where the (Mori, blackened walls
s .owed w here La Commune's vengance
Tie _re was three hostages—only three.
One a young nian, a chasseur, in his rich
un firm. Ile was handsome, all said.—
His eves were bound ; he stood against
t,h , ti wall. A crash, a roar, and he fell
:Convert' on his face,while his gilt uniform
ivas draggled in the dust.
The second was a priest in his black
sombre dress and heads; he looked tip
once, and then died, as the other hefore;
and the third, he was a general, they said
and had defied the people. There was a
pn-es forts and to see, and Marie was push
ed forward to the foremost rank. She
looked. lie was a man 01 over sixty,with
white hair and features, clear-cut and
hard, and very cold then ; be stepped up
proudly and smiled.
"The lied in command gave the orders,
"one," "two"—there was a rush from the
foremost rank, and sudden cry, aticl then
a girl's form was seen to be lying in the
arms of the hostage, "three, fire," shout
ed the lied, but somehow, the muskets
didn't roar, and somehow the Sabbottee
in the crowd raised a faint cheer which
deepened into a roar, and a suggestion
Was heard to put the lied in his place.
Paris, especially cotnmon Paris.is quick
of feelling. and when the poor girl ex
plaitied in her tears that "the general"
was dear, very dear to her; that he had
saved her life, mice when she was very
ill. Ave, more, he was her mother's lov
er long. ago ni Loraine; that she had
died while married to another man, and
—aid—that she loved him. Wrth' they?
She was not fair; she was 1114 pretty
even • but her pale golden hair covered
him like a halo and cloud, and fled Paris,
eistwhile so furious for his blood, raised
him and her on their shoulders, and
wild furious array marched down the
street to where Lri Commune sat with
closed portails. La Commune was, how
ever, easily got at. and when the wild ar
ray burst ill with its hostages borne aloft,
it was only too happy to grant what was
wanted, and when they returned, like is
sea going out, the two were landed close
together, and he, the great general, the,
proud marqms.folden her in his arms and
kissed her, while the tears stood in his
eyes. They were very happy.'
• • • •
Do you eee that couple younder—that
tall gentleman with gray hair, riding be
the Marshal of France ? Well, that
is Monsieur the Marquis, and the tali
lade. with hair like a sunbeamis his wife.
They are married: Yes, and though
the red ashes of La Commune are crushes
out dead fore ver, as they ride on the bonier ,
.ard many a cap is Woollen that way, for
they are always very kind to Paris in
"sabotea," she_ never foreettiug, though
she Is now Madame the Marehioness,that
she was once a pour sewing-girl.
FIFTY CTS. EXTRA IF NUT IN ADVAA'E.
Oh I for the kistwe to 1M and dream
By some wood' land well, or 80/110 rippling
With a cowl green covert of trees overhead,
And tern, or moss for my ♦erduoba bed!
To rest and trifle with rushes and reeds,
Threading wild berries like chaplets of beads,
Letting the breeze fan my feverish brows,
nearing, the birds sing their summery vows.
Oh I for the leisnre to lie without thought,
Upon the mind's anvil the ingot upwrought ;
The hammers that bent in my temples at rest;
Calm in llle's atmosphere, calm in the breast I
To 101 l or to saunter, to laugh or to weep,
Waken the echoes, or silence to ke^p,
With no human being at hand to Intrude
Or question the wheretore of manner or mood.
Oh ; for acme leisure to rest and to stray
In green haunts nt nature, if but for a day,
Through leaven to look at the sky from the sod,
Alone with my heart, my hopes and my God?
LETTER FROM TILE WEST.
Kassa.% Enrrorts :—.Sometime has duped
since I sent a letter to your good paper, there
fore thought I couldvat spend the few leisure
moments to a better advantage than penning a
few lines to the DEMOCRAT, which cornea to me
promptly, and h inileed a welcome messenger
to me, while a sojourner in a strange land, and
often among strangers.
Owing to the financial Crisis, times are very
dull here, thousands are out of employment,
their families suffering tbr the needful necessa
ries of life. On all the railroads centering at
this place, the employees have formed a brotS
erhood, and ceased to take out their trains, on
the account of 10 per cent. being struck 'emit
their wages. Therefore at this present time, no
trains are running, only mail !rains, which are
taken out by some of the head men. it Is hard
to tell at present how this will turn OtlL, us one
thing is certain if the road employ other hands,
It will lead to trouble, as the strikers will raise
a muss, it others attempt to take out any local
trains So at present things assume a very dull
appearance, together with much excitement and
the result is now the topic of conversation, ig
all circles, and by all classes.
In perusing the DEstocitar, it awakens in my
mind many pleasant remembrances of home
and friends, for who has not felt the power of
that charm which binds the heart to the twine
of its early day s—to the spot blessed by a fath
er's smile, and a mother's love? Amidst all the
bustle tied occupation of advanced life—amidst
all its disappointments and trials, the thoughts
will wander back to those happy days when all
was bright, a nd life and lure ; and fondly ling-
er over them as the green :spot. in the desert
wilderness. Surely the sue then attune more
brightly; the trees stayed a richer foliage! and !
the waters murmured with a softer melody'' I
Life was then one dream of beauty—a bright
vision which received its coloring 61-1.. m that
freshness of feeling which made life fraught
with enchantment, ere the young heart had
learned to harbor one suspicious thought,or One
generous and ardent feeling had been chilled
and a ithcred by the worldly wisdom and sel
fish prudence of a cold, cold, heartless norld.
In those hours when sleep asserts her duznin
ion, and fancy seems to delight in blending in
one fantastic grout., the past and the present,—
who has not visited the home of infancy and
felt his heart beat quick as he aguic trod the av
enue of. that sweet. serptestered spot, and heard
the kindly welcome, and saw that look of ten
der love, which was wont to reward every in
fant exertion In the acquirement of knowledge?
There is the cheerful affectionate band of glad
companions, who played and sung in harmless
glee, who with smiles lit up the hall, and cheer
ed with scgigs the hearth—Whose voices min
gled In one hymn of praise, anti who bent the
knee around one family alter. Sweet and cher
ished recollections! Yes! in dreams we may re
visit that hotue,and all—even the loved,t he lust.
are Liters'. The heart may ferui new—it nt)
form dearer and stronger of affec
tion to he severed only by the hand of death ,
but there is one feeling which can never be felt
a:ruin—that unsuspecting confideneef hat warm
enthusiasm, which lent tts kir. lip glow to all it
met. We may love-well—we may reJtdce in the
possession of a more rational. More latent-meal
happiness—but the drat charm u: lite has pass
eti away, like a loaf on the str•must,tuat will ere•
In conclusion I would return tny smeer.•
thanks to a very worthy and intelligent yo,n.;
lady of Ilarford. for is wed written and limit.,
sive essay read before the Teachers' Institute of
Ilarford township sometime ago. It is evidenc.-
that Ler whole heart is alive to the advance
ment of education.
HARRT D. CASSEDT
Jeffersonville, Ind., Dec. 29,'73.
JUSTICE AND MERCY.
No obligation of justice dots force a man to
be cruel or to use the sharpest sentence. A just
man does justice to every man in everything;
and then, if lie be also wise, he knows there is a
doubt of mercy anti compassion due to the in
firmities of a man's nature; and that it is to he
paid ; and he that is cruel and ungentle to a sin
ning person, and does the worst to him ties in
Lis debt, and is unjust. Pity and forbearance.
and long suffering and lair interpretation, and
excusing our brother, and taking in the beat
sense, and passing the gentlest sentence, are as
certainly our duty, and owing to every person
that does offence and can repent, as calling to
account csn be owing to the law, and are to be
paid, and he that does not so ts an unjust per
Life runs not smoothly at all seasons, even
with the happlud ; but after a long course, the
rocks subside, the view widen, and it flows on
more equally at the end.
We sleep, but the !nom of life never elope;
and the pattern wbieh was weaving when the
sun went down, Ls weaving when It cornea up
All men who do anything must smith.° a de•
predation of their efforts. It is the dirt which
their chariot wbetla throtir np.
The wise carry their knowledge ne they do
their watches—not for display, but for their
If a man is dissipated, bis fortune will proba
bly won be co too.
Never open the door to a
,AtUe vice, kit
great one ehould enter alito:
HE MONTItOSE DEI.IOOUT
Contains all the Land end Oda end "roes, Poetry,Stee
des, heeedottre, idiscellaneette Hauling, Cornapeatte
elite, led a tellable dais of aavezalseatate.
One square. (X of an inch susee.)3 srtlikr. or len $l.
1 month, $1.23; a month*. $4.60; 6 months. $4 00( 1
year. $6.60. A liberal disconnt on sdvertisements of a
greater length. Business Locale. 10 to.. s line lot first
insertion, end 6 cts. a line each subsequent tmertion.-.
Marriages and death., treerubituarles. 10 Me. • line.
0 072SELVSS AS OTHEES SEE U.
1 . cannot say that I fully agree with Barad,
when he Says:
"Oh wad some power the glide gie as
To :see ourselves as [tilers see us."
True, It might,
"Frae many a blunder tree us,
And loolish notion ;" P
But would our happiness be Increased thereby I
Does not halt the pleasure which we fincl to
this life cons.st in the satisfaction we tak e in
qualities belonging to ourselves or'our surround.
imp, which have no existence save In our Ina.
aginations t ' • •
Everybody knows the extravagant, unreason
log admiration which every mother possesses
for her own Individual baby. In nine cases Oat
of tett the little Imps are expressionless Infea
lure, and uninteresting in action, even when
they are nut,posltively cross and fretful, and ug
ly and inane us it Is possible fcr infantile lin
rnanity to be. What good would it do to tell
the motheriso? In the first place they would
not believe yoti ; anti in the second, II they did,
you would be taking right out of the world
some of Its purest and must unselfish happi
ness. The ideal babies are each paragons' of
beauty and hatellignece to each individual moth
er, and so in charity let them remain.
Mary Anne has made herself a new hat or a
bonnet—l really du not know by the look of It
which it is. It is in the height or the 'fashion,
but that fact does not prevent Its beihg waren].
ly ugly ; and when it is perched on the top nt
Mary Anne's enormous jute braids, she •"loo':s
like a trainer." At nay rate, uo artist would be
tempted to adk her to give Lim a sitting. But
Mary Anne admires her new bonnet, and ad
mires herself in it. I would not for all the
world tell her she looks like a fright; for If she
believed one, I should be destroying a great deal
of innocent enjoyment, and perhaps make her
suspicious of bonnets farrier niter. And bow
does it injure any one if Mary Anne does make
a guy of herself out of a mistaken Ideal of beau
ty? She certainly is not singular in that matter
even in the line of bonnets. Alter all, it is prob
ably not the hideous thing Itself that she wastes
her imagination upon, but an ideal bonnet
which really may possess certain elements of
beauty, and which she imagines her bonnet to
resemble. Let her nut see herself as others see
My neighbor over the way bas built himself •
home. He planned and made it all himself,frOM
the eccentric cornice to the overgrown bay win.
dow. 1 know not what structure of beauty
dwells in my nelghixa's mind. and goes by the
name of this house or his. But Ido know that
the real dwclliug has to the visible eye a pile of
Inerhigruities and unpleasant irregularities.. If
he Is satisfied, why should I complain? It Ido
not like the looks or uts boo, i phoot
screen of evergreen•, which will shut off its tig.
linens from my drily sight.—Mrs. E. B. Duffey.
A woman tells what she can do, as follows :
Six pairs of hose, nt 30 cents, will cost $ 1 80.—
Twu pairs of boots, at $550, and a pair of rub
' bens, sl—sB. This, if preferred, might be chang
ed into one pair of bouts, one of shoes, and.
is pair 'ol slippers. The rubbers must be had for
wet weather. Next should be bought 8 yards
of flannel at 9 shillinga per yard, Costing, ;a—
ntis will make two pairs of drawers and two
under vests. The Shaker flannel will be the
bat for these. Next, the under wear in cotton
will require 40 yards of cotton, which may cost
t 5 cents a yard, and for which a very good qual
ity can be purchased. This will make three
chemises, 7 1 4 yards; three pair drawers,o yards;
two night gowns, 10 yards; two outside skirts,
10 yards, and two under-skirta, 6 yards. Next,
for wet or cold weather, a gray flannel skirt, to
be worn next to dress, requiring 3 yards of flan
nel, at 50 cents, will take $1 30. A heavy ready
made dress can be purchased for $5. We have
seen one recently, made of water-ptOof, which
seemed to be just the thing for constant wear
in cold weather. Another dress for a change or
to be worn on Sundays, might also be bought
for $5, or made up of alpaca at home,but would
then possibly cost more, though 12 yards of
alpaca, nt 37 cents, would cost $450, leaving 50
cents for waist linings, facings and buttons.—
Hardly etteugh, though it might be made to an
swer. Thu best plan would seem to he to buy
the dress ready inai:e, of stone reliable firm.—
Next, A cloak or sac pie of cloth, at $3, These
are ire mently offered in very good material,
and cut in a style corfespontlilig with the cus
,ornary mode. Two hats—the winter one cost.-
ing $3 and that for summer s2.' If one 11111
taste in thme [natters, and can buy the material
and do her own millinery, she will ha able 10
make this amount produce very satisfitelory re
sults. Next, n shawl, for which from $l5O to
$2 may be paid, anti which will be pretty in tho
spring. Two print dresses at $3, and a Victoria
lawn or muslin, 12 yards, at. 20 cents—costing
$240. We have now left trout our $5O the
amount of $2 BO. A yard of linen, ut 50 cents,
will make cutlass and culls, w Well might be
dune at home.; OM 75 cenis more will purchase
worsital and a crochet needle, with which a nu•
bia can be crocheted. This IMAM but $155,
which must he used for gloves.
Small Is the aim that is required tovatronize
a newspaper, 1113,1 most amply rennineratetl.l3
the patron. I care not how humble and unpre
tending the Gazette which he takes, it is neat to
Impossible lo fill a sheet fifty-two tin.es a year
without puttana Into It something that is worth
the subscription price.
Every parent whose son is OfrElWay from hlm
at school, should be supplied with a newspaper,
I well remember what a differenr* there was
between those of my schoolmates who had, and
those who had not access to newsmen. Ober
things being equal, the first were always decid
ly superior to the last. In debate and composi
tion. The reason In pinto they had command of
more facts. Youths will puttee a newspaper
With delight'when they will read nothing else.
What a wonderful thing love is to a w omen !
how It helps her to know that wane one Is al•
ways fond of iter,and relaters when she rejoices,-
and sorrows when she grieves; to he sure that
her faults are lowal,and that her fire Is fairer to
one, at least. than tams that are more beautiful
,—that one great heart holds her 'tarred to its In:
Demon recesses above Al other women !Idle can
do anythlear. suffer anything. thus upheld.' She
grows prettier under the sweet Infinente,brlght.'.
-Cr, kinder. atmnger,arat life seems but a rurttUktg
orlmaton. and All her drums are gold.
Is P^•^lzD EMIT WEDirrnmi Mamma.
FIFTY DOLLARS A YEAR,