.r , Lt. B. Hawley, - - Wm, 0 Grazer. E. B. HAWLEY & CO., rtitiusasits OF THE MONTROSE DEMOCRAT AND GENERAL JOB PRINTERS, Montrose, Susquehanna Calmly, Pa. Once—Wert Side of Public Arline. Business Cards. J. B. & A. IL MeCOLLILII, ,YrullltltY. ST Lam °Mee over the Bank. Waitron f'aMostrose , May 10. IS7I. tf D. W. SEARLE, A IrOHNEY AT Bloc over the Store of U. lle•okauer.la the Brick Block. Stontroee. Ps. tool CO W. A 111 NRT AND UIIAIR MANUFAI.TURERB.—YooI ,r %lath tartlet. Muntruee. Pn. law. 1. 1869. if. C. SUTTON, A ccriosses,lpd EXIMILLXCIL A 011,1 1 .. ,ol Ott Frlendsvllle, Pa. AMI EL Y, Addreer, Brooklyn. Pa A UCTIONEER Juke 1,11:174, J. C. HeIIRATON, - CIVIL ENGIN - Hirt AND LAND SUM /MM. P. O. aOdnas, Franklin FOVICII. nnavichancut Co., Pa JOIN GROVES, loPiAll LB TAILOR, rdontrOlie - Pa. dhop over chandler'• Store. AP order* tilled in tret-rateetyl, us done on short notice. and warranted to tit. 4. 0. WARREN, :TOKNEY A • LAW. Bounty. Bea Vey. Pentrion ..n or be l ow Boyd'. Store. Montrooe. Y., LAA.1.•69 W. A. CROSSMO-V, • worney St 14W, Office at the Coon House, to the ommOsioner's Office. W. A. Coo:axon. Itoutroae, Sew.. • .IfrIiEMI7IF tt CO. alert In Diy Goods, Clothing, Ladles andllisson :,uc Shoe, kleo, agents for the great American Toe and Coffee Company. Moilll - One, July 17, '72,1 LAW OFFIC'E. I ITCH ,t WATSON, Attorneys at Law, at:the old office of U.•otley S. Fitch, Montrose, Pa. I. F PITCH. Wan. u. 'mt w. w, warsolt. ABEL TURRELL, ealer in Dram, Medicines, Chemicals, Palets, 0118. nee stuff, T. Spices, Fancy Goods, Jewelry, Per -11-iner) , Se., Brick Block, Montrose, Pa. Establitned 1na5.1973. BCOI7LL & DEIVITT. Attorneys el Lag and Solicitor. to Bankruptcy. °MCC no. 49 Court Street, over City National Bank, Bing -11. anon. N. Y. WK. U. ScoviLL, Jane 18th. 11173. Jrnoiz I)twwr. DR. W. L. RICHARD SON, VSICIAN k BURGEON, tenders hie profesalona .crvicee to the citizens of 'Montrose and vicinity.— ° Mee at 111 en.edder :e, °lithe comer cadt of da7re dr Bros. Fonndrr f Aug. 1. 1869. CHARLES N. STODDARD, tealerin Boots and Shoes, Ilats and Caps, nyeatly. Leather and wor d k made t Main order,o Stre and rOalring done ß et. Ist &Icor below od's Stare. NiOlArollo Jan. 1 1819. LEWIS KNOLL, • SiIdVING d.ND RAM DRESSING. nhon to the new Partake building. where he will tn- found ready to attend all who may want anything nhL lino. Montrose Pa. Ott. Id 149. DR. S. W. DAYTON, & SURGEON, tenders his services to t Ge citizens of Great Bend and vieinfty. Office at Ole rrsideucc, opposite Barnom Rome, 0 . 1..8end village. Srpt.lst,lB69.--1.1 DR. D. A. LATHROP, di:011114er') ELltoTtln 1 • 11iIIMAL BTU a the Foot of Chestnut street.. Call and consul to ii-I Chronic Olseneca. • Montrose. Jan. V. H BURRITT. - - Dcalcr ,n Staple and Fancy Dr: Goals, Crockery, Hard wale. Iron, Stores, Drags. Olls, and Paints, Boots and Shoat, Hats and Caps, Furs, DoHalo Hobos, ()ro taries, Provisions, to. New-Mtliord, 1 a., Nov, 6, '79—Hi EXCHANGE HOTEL M.J. HARRINGTON wishes to inform the publiethat haring rented the Exchange Llotel in Montrose, he ta n ow prepared to accommodate the traveling nubile tn Orst.class style. Montrose, Aug. LITTLE'S & BLAB - ESLER' ATTORN'ETS &T LAW. have removed to their New Oita, opposite the Tarbell Bowe. A.B. Lrralx. Itostrope,Oct,„ 16,155. BILLINGS STROUD. YIBB AND LIFE INSURANCE AGENT. AD boininc. Attended to promptly, on fair terms. Office 4 rot door east of the bank of Wm. 11. Cooper •t, rohl I c Arenne,ldontzose, PA. jAng.1.1869. Jelly 17.15 M) DII.I.IHQS STROUD. B. T. & K IL CASE, HARNESS-MASERS. Oak lilarnees,llght and heavy, at lowest cash price.. Also. Blanket. Breast Blao o.e. Whips. nod everything pertaining to the line, cheaper than the chin:meat Repairing one prompt ly sod to good style. ind.ose , P., Oct. 29, 1913. CELIBLEY AfORRIS TBS. ILtYTI HER. has moved his shop to the building occupied by E. McKenzie Co., where he Is prepared to do all kinds of work in his Uncouth co MS kinl, whales, puffs, etc.. All work done on short nonce and prices low. Please call and see me. THE PEOPLES MARKET. Purtarelllll% Proprietor. Fresh and Salted Meant. Hams, Pork, Bologna Ban .of c best onnlity, constantly 011 1114IId. it prn.e. to .011 Montroee, Pa„ Jan. 14. 1183--13, VALLEY ROUSE, .11trAY BEND, F . A. Situated near the Ede Railway De. pot It a large and coma:odious hone.. hal undergone a thorough repair. Newly furnished room.. and sleep s apartfueuteeplendld tablea.andellthlog• compell ing a El at else. hotel. LIENRY ACKERT. 1000. Proprietor. DR. W. W. SMITH, . . D esrrre Rooms at ht• dwelling, next doornorthof Dr. lisisey's, on Old Foundry street, where he would be happy to eee all those in rerun of Dental Rork. Be is confident that he can pietise all. both In quality of work and In pries. 011 Ice hours from 9 .s. al. to 4 r. a. Montt...eh Feb. 11, IS74—tf EDGAR 4. TURRELL 11!1=InEEI • . No. 1113 Broadway, New York City. Attend' , to all kinds of Attorney Business. and ton. dhrls causes iu all the Courts of both the Suite, and the utted States. Feb 11. 144.-Iy. E. P. HINES, AL D., iftadaate of the Colreraity of Michi Arm Arbor. h ..z. and o. of Jefferson Medical Colle gan, ge of !Ulla -o,lpala, lal4, has retuned to Frlenderillec, where he attend to all calls In his profeaalon ea owed.— h,mience to Jewel., lioaford'• house. Office the same to. to trtolore. wisvil le. Pa., April =b., 1274.—Cm. BURNS d NICHOLB, OKA. in Drug., Medians.. Chemicals. Dye. Varnish. Liquor*. Biilee..Fanc/ .r:.cies„Pistent Medicines, Perfumer and Toilet A rt,. Of — Prescription. carofully Bompounded.— Brick Block, Montrose a. B, Bump. Axon Mimosa. °el,. 21, MS lOW PREVTIAG Elar.oolztoct AT THIS OFFICE. CHEAP. •try 1:70. ( - 1 % / 9 _7,1 , ~--. 4(b--;•.- 1 P', /I . , i 7. , :,..?--- . _, ar .i, u- \ 11kNTROSE DEMOCRAT: TWO DOLLARS PER YEAR IN ADVANCE. VOLUME 31. IN TOE TWILIGHT _o— In the twilight 1 am musing, Looking 'round with joyous smile On the beauties of the Summer, That my lovely thoughts beguile, Crimson roses by me shedding Forth their fragrant, rich perfume: Earth in June is to me Heaven With its fields of flowery bloom. Tears ago, here, in the gleaming Ere night's shadows o'er me fell, I once stood, and in the zephyrs Felt around a Joyous spell. Ali ! that eve will be remembered Long as fancy has its play, For the heart has many memories That will never fade away. But we know bow buds and blossoms Soon are withered, laying cold How they mock us by their dying When we feign would them enfold. How we sigh to see them scatter All their leaflets to the blast, Like the hopes of youth departed, That were far too bright to last. And we know how ction Brings to us each lovely spot, Where they once In fragrant beauty Smiled on us and gladness brought, How the very breeze around us Told ns of their presence there, And we know it in our spirits, For their breath was on the air. So it Is with many dreamings That for years have moulding lam, Till in darkness, wicrd and mystic They return with mournful strain. Bringing music of the vanished, Music sad, and sweetly low, And we listen, catch the rythm That resounds In gentle flow. Oh 'tis well for us that ever When we madly long for rest, That some thought of yore comes quickly Stills the throbbing in each breast. For on earth are many mortals That would gladly pause and die, Did not memory bring a vision That is sweet to every eye. MISCELLANEOUS READING "It is such a bother to be poor r There had been a long interval of silence in Mr. Jameson's sitting room, when Ger tie made this exclamation. "What is the new bother, Gertie ?" The pleased voice and tone of kindly inquiry made the young girl blush deeply as she replied : "0, mamma, never mind; I was only thinking aloud." "Thinking of what ?" "Of some velvet flowers I saw yesterday which just matched this ribbon," and Genie held up a bonnet she was trim ming. "Velvet flowers are so lovely for a winter bonnet, and this one needssome thing." "I am sure it looks very nice Gertie." "Nice," said the girl, scornfully empha sizing the word ; "yes, it is very nice, and that turned silk is nice, and the short sock math- uu of your old cloak is nice, and cleaned gloves are nice,and—" "Why. Gertie 1" cried her mother, in a voice of amazement. "But there is nothing stylish or hand some in cleaned gloves and retrimmed bonnets, and old cloaks turned into sacks and so I say poverty is a bother." "Gertie, put away that bonnet and come here. Now little daughter," said the widow, gently, "tell me the meaning of this sudden tirade against poverty; at the restless tossing I heard from your room last night ; of the nervous arquiet of my contented little girl since yester• day ?" =ll • There was no reply. "Gertie, what did Leon Payne say to von last evening F" "He asked me to be his wife." The words were jerked out hastily. "And you answered—" "Jane came in to shut np .tbe parlor, not knowing he was there and she stayed: so he got no answer at all." "But be must be answered, Gertie. He has spoken to me and I told him it must rest with you." "Mamma I" this after a long deep si lence. "Ile is very rich. When he marries. his wife can have every luxury. If—if it is I, we can have you with as, and Jane need not teach that horrid school any longer. We were on--street the other day, add stopped to look into a jeweller's window, and he pointed out the kind of jewels he would wish his wife to wear. I need not wear old silks then, mamma." "then you intend to accept his offer?" "I don't know you see, there is liar . If "But Harry cannot offer yon jewels." " No, poor Harry ! If he had only three thousand dollars, Mr. Ingraham would bike him into the firm. He told me all about it last week. But think how long it will take to save three thou sand dollars, and of course his wife must save, and economize till he is able to spendemore freely." "Yes, dear, there would be no varia tions on the turned cloth and retrimined bonnets ; no velvet flowers, no jewels." But such a noble. true heart ; such tender love !" "Leon Payce loves you." "As much as he loves anything beyond his own pleasure and comfort lie is so thoroughly selfish, scr herd, and thinks so much of himself. It is his wife that must be handsomely dressed, ride in her car riage, and reflect credit upon his choice. Mamma, he loves vie because I am pret ty and can sing well, and can manage his house nicely. Harry loves me because it is I." There was a violent jerk 'at the door bell at that instant that called her to the door. She came back with flying feet. ':Two valentines, mamma 1 I had for gotten it was the fourteenth.? "Twos" "Yes, oh, mamma, look!" She had torn the cover from a dainty package in her hand and opened a moron co case inside. Upon the black velvet lining lay a parpre of glittering dia monds, flashing up ; where a stray son• beam fell upon theta,' into a glorious sea of color. "Leon Payne I" cried Gertie. " Are they bdt exquisite ?" Mrs. Jameson's lips quivered a little ae she looked at her daughter's flushed POETRY. IIEART-TRVE. --o MONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAY, JULY, 1 1874 lace and bright eyes, and her heart sent up a silent prayer for the future, trem bling before her eyes. "Look at the other," she said quietly. "Only a copy of verses." said Gertie. "Violet eyes and all that sort of thing But are not these diamonds magnificent? It is the very set I admired so much when we were out the other day." it'is 11 o'clock, and I must go to Mrs. Lewis'. Little daughter,you may have callers while lam out:' She drew her child into her arms, and looked with anxious love into her eyes. "Gertie, my daughter, be true to your own heart." And so she left her. True to her own neon. Gertie Jame ; son ttat down to ponder over those words. The diamonds flashed out their glorious waves of light before her eyes ; the copy of verses lay open 'in the little work ta ble, and Gertie sat musing. Pictures of the past came in succession into her memory. It was ten years ago, but shecould still remember the day, since her lather had been called to the shadow land The luxurious country home where she and Jane. her eldest sister, were born, was sold and they bad come to the city. Her mother, one of the finest amateur pianists Of her time, bad begun to teach music, and they had lived upon her earnings un til Jane was old enough to take the French class in a large seminary, and Gertie to bare singing scholars at home ; but even with these additions their income was very limited. Close economy. self denial. humble fare and quiet dress. Get tie could recall much more distinctly than the wealth her father had squandered. When did Harry Clark come upon the scene? Gertie scarcely knew. He was u stepson of her mother's brother, and come to the city to make his fortune. Far away in the central part of Pen nay). mitt nestled a small farm where Harry was born, where father and mother had died, and which was the boy's sole patri mony. The rent of his domain scarcely sufficed to clothe young . Clark,but he had been winning his way in the house of I. Co., ana now, if lie could make three thousund dollars, might be a partner. The farm might bring part of that sum, where was the rest to come from, queried Gertie. Yet over Harry's memory pic ture the little maiden lingered lovingly. There was no part of her life so pleasant to dwell upon as that where he figured. Long walks and talks, duets over the old pano, chats by moonlight, firelight and gaslight. He was so tender and loving, so boom able and true, so respectful to her mother, so tender to Jane, and so ready to advise or assist Jane's betrothed a fellow clerk, who was waiting the turn in fortune's wheel that would enable Irm to marry. Was not such love as he offer ed worthy of any sacrifice ? Leon Payne came to sue scene only six wor i tto tars musing of upon leer tie. She had met him at a party and had bewitched him by her pretty,piquant beau ty, her grace and voice. He had dazzled her by his handsome face— Harry was not handsome, poor fellow, Gertie sighed— and wealth. But the young girl knew, with a woman's intuition, that under the courtly manners, flattering attentions aud devoted air, there was a hard, selfish nature, a cruel ;ealousy and a suspicious and hot temper, Yet he was so rich, and Gertie knew all the torture and misery of genteel poverty. "Be true to your own heart !" she said aloud as she arose and walked across the room. "Do I love Leon Payne ? It he should lose his wealth would I be a true and loving wife to him still ? Could I wear old bonnets for his sake ?" She took up the diamonds and put them on while she spoke. They flashed brilliantly against the deep cnmson of her neat dress and heightened the effect of her young, fresh beauty. "If he were poor and ill could I work for him—as I could for Harri , ?" It burst Eton . ' her ups in a sort of cry, and sbe tore off the jewels and replaced them in their velvet bed. "1 could bear all this for Harry but not Leon Payne. I will be true to my own heart." • • • • r • The winter was gliding into spring when Mrs. Jameson sat in a luxurious house on— street, waiting the coming of two brides. The parlor in which she waited was richly furnished. Velvet car pets covered the floor. velvet curtains draped the windows, long mirrorrs threw hack the light of large chandeliers ; cost 1y pictures in heavy gilt frames hung up on the walk Above large bedrooms were filled with handsomely appointed furni ture. In one room, laces, velvets, flowers and silks fit for a royal trousseau filled drawers and wardrobe ; the dining room was spread for a rich and varied repast, and the widow's own dress, though only black silk, was rich and handsomely made. "My little Gertie," said Mrs. Jameson, softly, "how will she ever reign over this palace?" A quieter home, but pleasant, too, was waiting for Jane, whose husband had re ceived an anonymous gift that enabled him to accept a business opening long looked upon as an unattainable felicity. But June was to spend a few days with Gertie before going to her own home. and the mother looked for two brides, as I said before. It was nearly midnight when the car riage,drove up. Gertie was the first to her mother's armaand then, as Jane took her, place, the little bride stood in the centre of the long osrlors pale with as tonishment. She bad tossed off her bon net, and the soft gray traveling dress of the mistress of the house seemed oddly out of place. "Where am I?" she gasped at last. "At home, my darling," and her hus band mused his arm around her waist. "Home?" - _ "It is not such a very long story," he said, lookigg down into her wondrous eyes, "bat Tdid not tell you before, be cause I wanted to see if you loved me." "She nestled close to him, letting her bead fall upon his bosom. "The farm, Gertie," he said softly "was full of oil." "Oil "I sold it for more money than Leon Devoted to the Interests of our Town and County. Payne ever possessed. Now,Pet,run up stairs; mother will show you the room and let we see how some of the finery there suits you." "But it is nearly midnight." "Never mind, we want a queen to pre side over thi slipper." Mrs. Jameson led the way, while Jane and her husband stood as bewildered as Gertie had been. Suddenly the bride groom started forward to grasp Hurry's hand. "Are we not brothers ?" said Harry quietly. There was a little talk then, with hus ky voices and moist eyes,. and Jane was still looking gratefully into Hurry's face when the door opened and Gertie flashed in. All the light had come back to her eyes, the rich color to her cheeks, and the shining silk revealeci snowy arms and shoulders, while rich lace fell in folds around the sweeping skirts. Upon her clustering curls rested a wreath of white flowers, and rare bracelets clasped her wrists. She made a low reverence to her husband. "Lovely!" lie cried; "but Pet, wear the diamonds to night." "What diamonds ?" "The ones I sent von for a valentine." "You sent me, Harry! I sent them back to Leon Payne." It wee:mrtainly ten years later when, one evening at one of Mre. Clarke's re ceptions, Mrs. Leon Payne said to her, pointing to her jewels : It was the oddest thing about these diamonds. Somebody sent them to Leon for a valentine years ago. He never could guess where they came from, for of course, the lady must have been wealthy, though why she sent a lady's panire to a gentle. man is a mystery. Are they not lovely, Mrs. Clarke ?" "Very lovely," said Gertie, and smiled as she thought of the day, ten year Ago, when she was true to her own heart. The Strange Guest. , One summer afternoon Mr; Malcom Anderson arrived with his family at his native town. Putting op at a little inn, he proceeded to dress himself in a suit : of sailor clothes, then walking alone by a by path he. well kuew,and then through a shady lane, dear to his hazel nutting days, all strangely unchanged, he ap proached hii mother's cottage. Ile stopp ed fur a moment on the lawn outside to curb down the heart that was bounding to meet that mother. mid clear his eyes of a little mist of tears. Through the open window he caught a glimpse of her sitting alone at the spinning wheel as in the old time. But alas ! how changed 1 Bowed was the dear old form, once so erect, and silvered the locks so brown, and dimmed the eyes once so full of ten der brightness. bk." elewstalupd violets. voice, with which she was croon ing softly to herself. was still sweet, and there on her cheek the same lovely peach bloom ot twenty years ago. At length he knocked, and the dear remembered voice called to him, " Coon ben rcome in. The widow rose at the sight of the stranger, and courteously offered him a chair. Thanking her in an as sumed voice somewhat gruff, he sank down as though wearied, saying he was a wayfarer, stranger to the country and asked the way to the next town. The twilight favored him in his little ruse ; he saw that she did not recognize him even. as one she had ever known. But after giving him the information he de• aired, she asked him if he were a Scotch man by birth. "Yea, madame," he replied, "but I have been away in foreign parts many yrars. I doubt if my own mother would know me now, though she was very fond of me before I went to sea." "Ah, mon ! its little ye ken about mithers ye think sae. I can tell ye there is na mortal memory like theirs," the widow somewhat warmly replied : then added, "and where hae ye lost the Scotch free your speech ?" In India—in Calcutta. madame." "Ay, then it's likely ye ken something of:my son ,Malcom Atnierson." "Anderson I" repeated the visitor, as though striting to remember. "There may be many of that name in Calcutta ; but is your son a rich merchant; a man about my age and size, with something such a figure head ?" "My son is a rich merchant," replied the widow proudly, "but he is younger than you by many a long year, and beg ging your pardon, sir far bonnier. He is tall and straight, wi hands and feet like a lassie • he has brown, curling hair, sae thick andi glossy, and cheeks like the rose and a brow like the snow, and big blue een. wi' a glint in them, like the light of the evening star. "Na ! na 1 ye are a gude enough boy I, dinna doubt, alid a decent woman's son, but yer're nae my Malcom." Here the masquerading merchant, con siderably taken down made a movement as though to leave, but the hospitable dame stayed him saying, "Gin ye hae traveled a' the way from India, ye mann be tired and hungry. Bide a bit,:and eat and drink wi' us. Margery, come down, and let us set oh the supper." The two women soon prepared quite a tempting repast. and they all three sat down to it, Mrs. Anderson reverently asking a blessing. But the merchant could not eat. He was hungry only for his mother's kisses, only thirsty for her joyful recognition; yet he could not bring himself to say to ber—"l am yodr son.' He asked himself, half grieved, half mus ed. "Where are the unerring natural instincts I have read about in novels'?" His hostess, seeing he did not eat, kindly asked if he could suggest anything he would be likely to relish. "I thank you madam," he answered, "it do , a seem to me that I should like some oat meal porridge, such as my mother need to make, if so be you bad any." "Porridge ?" repeated the widow. "Ab, he greens paritch. Yes, we hue a little left fra our dinner. the it to him, Mar gery% But mon I goes it is mid." 'Never mind; I know I shall like it," lie v iejpined, taking the bowl; nod be ginning to stir the porridge with his spoon. As ho did so;Nrs. Anderson gave a start, and bent eagerly toward him. Then she sank back in her chair with a sigh, saying in answer to his questioning look; "Ye mind me of my Malcom, then, just in that way he used to stir his par itch—gieing it a whirl and a flirt. Ah 1 gin ye were my poor laddie 1" "Well, then, gin I were Malcom," said the merchant, apeaking for tie first/ time in the Scottish dialect, and in his own voice ; "or gin yer Malcom was as braw, and gray, aid vent, and as old as I am, could you welcome him to your arms and love him as in the mild langsyne ? Could you mither ?" All through this touching little speech the widow's eyes had been glistening and her breath coming fast; bat at that word "wither," she sprang up with a cry, tot tering to her son, fell almott fainting on his breast. He kissed her; kissed her brow, and her lips, end her hands, and the big tears slid down his bronzed cheeks while she clang about his neck and call ed him by all the dear old pet names,and tried to see in him the dear young looks. By-and-by they came back,or the ghosts of them came back. The form in her embrace grew comelier ; love and joy gave it a second youth, stately and gra cious. The first she then and there bur ied deep in her heart, a sweet, beautiful, peculiar memory. It gas a moment of solemn renunciation, in which she gave op the fond maternal illusion she had cherished so long. Then looking up sud denly into the face of the middle aged man who hae taken the place, she said ; 'Where hae ye left the wife and bairns?' '-At the inn, mother. Have you rooms for us all at the cottage?" "Indeed I have— twa good spare rooms wi' large closet, weel stocked wi' linen I has been spinning or weaving a' these lang years for ye baith and the weans?' " 'Well, mother, dear,uow you must rest' rejoined the merchant., tenderly. "Na, na, I donna care to rest till you lay me down to take my lang rest.— They'll be time enough between that day and the resurrection to fanld my hands in id;eness. Now 'twould be uneoirksome. But go, my eon, and bring me the wife. I hope I shall like her; and the bairns, I hope they will like me." llitiave only to saY that both the good women,s hopes are realized. A. very hap py tamily knelt down in prayer that night and many nights after in the widow's cot tage, whose climb;ng roses and woodbines were but outward signs and types of the sweetness and blessedness of the peace and love within. A. Surprise. The habit of hanging mackerel on a hail near .the door to drip, broke up a match on Essex street Wednesday night. The couple got home late in the evening. and. ening armind hack of the house, so as not to disturb the folks, they sat clown on the stoop to think. During the pro• cess she leaned her head, in a new spring hat, against the house, and became ab sorbed in the stars and other improve ments, while he tenderly eyed his boots. About half an hour was spent in this profitable occupation, when the young man felt something trickle down his neck, 'Don't weep, Julia," he softly murmured. "I ain't,". said she, surpris ed He looked up and his eyes rested on an oozy substance back of her head. "What's that on the back of your hat ?" he cried. She jumped up, at this inter rogation, and instinctively placed her hand on the back of her head, drew it away again full of an unpleasantt flavor ed slime. With a shriek of rage and passion the infuriated girl tore the mack erel from the nail, and trampled it be neath her feet, while she snatched off her hat and tore it in shreds with her livid fingers. The horror stricken young man not knowing what else to do, pulped the first fence and disappeared, and hasn't been seen since by the unfortunate girl.— Danbury News. Not Much. The story of an absect minded man who, meeting his own son in the street, shook hands with him and asked him how his father was, has been equaled by the forgetfulness of a Wisconsin farmer, The man drove to town to transact some business, and- was acoompanied by his wife. Leaving her at a dry goods store, he proceeded to carry out his intention& Having finished his business, he forgot all about the little circumstances &bring ing his wife with him, and started home alone. Arriving there, he put his horses out awl proceeded to do the chores. In the meantime his wife had learned that her husband had lett town without her. Hiring a conveyance she was driven home. She didn't wait to take off her things,but seizing a press-board made her way to the back yard. The husband was just seat ing himself on a milking-stool, and was just opening a conversation on the sub ject of“h'isting," remarking frequently that it was "so,boss.” He wasjust get ting settled down when a whistleing sound, as if something rapidly cleaving the air, came from the other aide of the cow. It was the press-board, and the wife on the other end of it. An instant . after it fell with crushing weight tipon his knees. The cow, having conscien. tines scruples about standing betweon hos• band and wife, left very suddenly, 11011 in her hurry kicked the unfortunate man in the immediate vicinity of his vest pocket. ° The unhappy victim of circumstances scrupled up on all fours, when the pleas board again descended, striking him opposite to where the cow had left her tracks. His wife then asked him if be would ever forget her again„And his answer was plain and to the point, "Not much." As an illustration of animal instinct, correspondent of IValurs - notes that on one occasion, while ho was waiting at an inn door, he noticed some pigeons feed• ingon the oats which. had. fallen, from the nose bag of a horse in the yard; when however, the supply was exhausted, a large "pouters' would fly up and flap his wings in the horse's face, thus causing him to upset his food by a shake of ;the head; when the supply was again exhaus ted the stratagim was repeated. FIFTY CTS. EXTRA IF NOT IN ADVANCE. Idr FILIBA 7 DB IN HEAVEN, —O - sadly miss them, day by day, 'The loved ones who have passed away ; lay heart in earnest, mournful tones .Calla for the dear departed ones. Some were my friends In early years, And shared my childish hopes and fears. My schooiday friends, loved well and long, But they have Joined the Heavenly throng. And some i only lately met, Yet loved too well to o'er forget; Like a sweet passing dream to mo Their memory must over be. mother too has gone beibro, And walks upon life's golden shore ; She lives the better life above Within the land of light and love. Mother, methinks thy home is far Beyond each distant shining star ; We upward look with longing eyes, But alto h no glimpse of Paradise. And yet 'tis sweet to think that thou Art sometimes near us even now. Who knows? Thy spirit oil may come And hover o'er our earthly borne. My friends in Heaven ! No doubt that ye Seem dead to some, but not to me ; The clay may sleep beneath the sod, The spirit lives at borne with God. To me ye are not half so dead As some on earthly sod who tread, Nor seek, nor scarcely wish to liyo The life which Jesus died to give. These are the dead, who live in sin, And life eternal fail to win ; Thaw are the dead, and they shall know The "Second death" in all Its woe. 0 1 may 1 never mourn again For friends beyond the reach of pain ; The ties that bound us are not riven, We'll love each other more in Heaven, A NEW GAME FOB BOYS -0-- It is called "scotch." The contestants con sist of thirteen a side,which Includes the "mas ter? (or leader) of the company. The scene of action is a flat parallelogram, 220 by 50 yards Eadh company with its chosen master takes po sition In the right and left corners at the head of the Place. Then one from each side goes out and is placed by the umpire on the starting line midway between the parties, and likewise at the head of the grounds. The race is to be two hundred yards. And the winning post is to be a small flag pole, snrrounded by a small pennant of the united colors of the contestants The pole may be a neat lance wood stick about six feet high by en Inch and a half in diameter with a wedge shaped bottom, which is to be inserted either in the ground or in the cleft of a block of wood. The capture of this flag pole, which should yield to the forward pressure of the - hand, at once secures a point to the party whose man has taken It and makes a prisoner of his unsuccessful opponent. The first twelve points decide the game. The second master will have charge of the flag Dole and readjust it "immediately after each capture. Each winner is entitled to ron again and again, as often as he takes the pole. But be must not do so un til after the balance of his free companions have orici a spin. if any one or tae uppeme s parties should have the unprecedented good Mona to take a prisoner every race, It will of course win the game right off, making twelve consecutive points to nothing. Sat if, instead of making twelve consecutive points, it should is themeantime have last three prisoners, the master of the captured company is entitled to claim an exchange, and to continue the gaine with the three redeemed, and so on until no out to exchange remains at the losing side, and the game is do facto declared. No exchange is admissable while a contestant remains at either side. GOOD NATURED PEOPLE -o The specially social quality is good nature, amiability, the desire to please, the kindness of heart that avoids giving offence, and cannot bear to hurt any one's feelings. A good natur ed person may frankly disagree with you, but he never offends. He quarrels good naturedly. He boxer with gloves on—when ho fences ever so deftly, them is a great soft butter on the end ofhiS foil. He may satirize, ridicule, open up all your weaknesses and absurdities, but so kindly that you cannot help loving him. He cannot say a harsh, hard, bitter, or contemptu ous thing, because ho has no hardness and no contempt. This is simple, natural goodness' like the goodness of fend and friendly animals. It May not be a high moral virtue there 311 no particular merit in it any more than in beauty or any natural gift ; but it is a very delightful quality, and those who do not posseass it should imitate those who do. Just as we avoid in per son; dress or manners, anything that 'may give disgust or pain, so must wo do in our conversa tion. We must" no mqre use vulgar exprea shins than we would wear vulgar garments. Our talk ilhould be as , clean as our fingers. We should no more bite one with our words than teeth. An angry word is as bad as a blow, and a satirical word is like a sting. If we are nev er to say anything to a person which will give him disgust or pain, we must be even wore caro tid not to say anything of any one which will injure him in the estimation of others. Playful good natured criticism upon the little foibles and Peculiarities of others may be no haim, and even ttselul, but it. ceases to be good natured when it gives pain. Slander is a sin much wetse than thbit. - Charity forbids that we should even tell the truth, when that truth can wetted and Injure. The best rule is to say all the 6od. we can of every one, and to refrain from 'ever saying evil, unless it becomes a clear matter of deity to warn some against him. Small, is the earn that is, required to patronize a newspapaper, and amply reviarded is its pat ran, / care Fot how humble and unpretending •the gazette ;which he-takes, It is next to im possible to / 1311 a sheet with printed matter with out Oiling into it something that le worth the imbsoription price. Every parent whose son Is awayl from home at school, shoold supply him with a newspaper. I well remember what a 'mai'kedfllfference there was between" those of ' seirisrlmates who bad, and those who had not, texl!ISII-to newspapers. Other things being equal the list ,were always decidedly superior to the last Irt debate, cocaposltion, and general intern gence.--Danki Waster. o WCla you wish to live without a trial ? Thee. you would wish to dio half a than. With out trialyou cannot gams at your oval:strength Men Oe not learn to swim on a table ; they meal° pato deep water,tuid buffet the Surges. .Yon wish to understand their true character ;.-it tom would their. whole strength--of ,what they are opable—throw theta olFerboard l ov. er With them—and if they are worth saring,they wilkiwiin ashore of themselysi THE MONTROSE DEMOCRAT Contains all the Local and General Neal!, Poetri, eta. vlds. Aneedotea, If iseellanedus Readierr.Correspor.d. ease, and a reliable this of advertisements. One square. (.1( of an inch sre.).4 weeke, or less, $1 1 month,sl.2s ; 3 months. p. 50; 0 months. $450; I year. $0.50. A liberal discount on adrsttlaements of a greater length. Boldness Locale t 10 eta. aline for first lnsertion. and 5 ets. a lino earls subsequent - Insertion Marriages and deaths, tree; obitsules, 10 eta. a line, NUMBER 26. —o- r A companyof poor children, who had betn gathered out of the alleys and garrets of the city, were preparing for their departure to new .and distant homes in the West. Just before the time of the starting of the cars, one of the boys was noticed aside from tho others, and ap parently very busy with a cast-off garment— The superintendent stepped up to him, and found he was cutting a small piece out of the patched lining: It proved to be his old Jacket, which, having been replaced by a new one, bad been thrown away. There was no time to be lost. "Come, John, come," said the superintend ent, "what are you going to- do with that old piece of calico 4" "Please sir," said John, "I am cutting it out to take with mo. 4ly mother put the lining in to this old Acket forme. This was a piece of her dress, and it is al I have to remember her by." And as the poor boy thought of his dead mother's love. and the sad death bed scene, in the old garret where she died, he :covered his taco with his hands, and sobbed as it his heart woUld break. But the train was about leaving, and Joint thrust the little piece of calico into his bosom to remember his mother, hurried into the car, and was soon far away from the place where ho bad seen so.much sorrow. Many an eye has moistened as the story of this orphan boy has been told ; and many a heart has prayed, that the God of the fatherless and motherless 'would. bo his friend.—New York paper. —o-- The following from the London Meduxd /tor ord will be appreciated. Upon the average, boys at birth weigh a lit tle morn and girls a 'little less than six and a half pounds. For the first nine years the two sexes continue nearly equal in weight, but be yond that time males acquire a decided pre ponderance. Thus, young men at twenty av erage about 143 pounds each, while the young women of twenty average 120 pounds. Men reach their heaviest bulk al about thirty five when they average about 152 pounds, but wo men slowly increase in weight until fifty when their average is about 128 pounds. Taking men and women together, their weight at full growth averages about twenty times as heavy as they were on thb first day of their existence. Men range from 108 to 220 pounds, and women from 88 pounds to 201 pounds. The actual weight of human nature, taking the average of ages and conditions, nobles, clergy, tinkers, tai lors, maidens, boys girls and babies all included is very nearly 200 pounds. These figures ate given in avoirdupois weight, but the advocates of the superiority of women might make a nice point by introducing the role that women be weighed by troy weight like other jewels, and men by avoirdupois. The figures will then stand—young men of twenty 143 pounds each; young women of twenty, about 140 pounds *Mail:lnd so cm, . 171 E BEST BENTIFRIOE. —o— The Lanced says : "An eminent dentist 'in ex amining the teeth of forty persons of 'different professions, and living different kinds of life, found in almost all vegetable and animal para sites. The parasites were numerous in propor7 tion to the neglect of cleanliness. The means ordinarily employed to clean the teeth bad no effect on the pararites, while the soapy water appeared to destroy them. If this be a true version of the cause of the terries-:the action of acids, supplimented by the action of fUngi— then it follows that the great means of, preserv ing teeth'ls to preserve the most scrupulous cleanliness of the mou(b axd teeth,'and to give the rinsing liquids a slightly alkaline character, which: is done by the admixture of a little soap This is not so pleasant a.dentifrice as some, but it is effective and scientific. Acids not only dis solve the salts of the teeth, but favor the In crease of the fungi of the month. No merman of fungi and no action on the dental tissues oc cur in solutions slightly alkaline such as a weak solution of soap. The good effects orstopping teeth, in the light of these exp.riments, aro, In telligible. The penetration of acids and Lime is prevented." If any ono wishes to grow fleshy, a pint of milk taken before retiring at night will Goon cover the scrawniest bones. Although nowa days we seen great many fleshy females, tliere are many lean and lank ones who sigh for the faahlonablo measure of plumpness, and who would be vastly improved in health and appiftz , - • anco could their fingers be rounded with good, solid flesh. Nothing is more coveted by thin women than a full figure, and nothing will so rouse the he, and provoke the scandal of one of • those "clipper builds," as the consciousness of plumpness in a rival. In cases of fever and summer complaint milk is now given with . az. came results. The idea that tallish 'feirerish' has exploded ; it is the shysicians'greatrellance in bringing through typhoid patients, or those in too low a state to be nourished by solid food, It is a mistake to scrimp the milk pitcher. Take more milk and buy less meat. Look to yant milkman,have large sized,well filled milk pitch. era on the table each meal, and you will , also have sound flesh and light doctor's blib.--Ifirts York Commercial Advertiser. Ie PVELII2I2I) EfiIiT ' IVELIX26IY MOAN/1M Advertising Bates: 'TWAS MY NOTIIE.II'S. WHAT WE WOMB. HOW 10 GROW FAT. Among the pieces of gold composing the thousand ounces sent to the coast ity.Ring Cot lee as a portion of the Ashantee indemnity,was the representation of a . human bead, of rare gold, and between fitly and sixty ounces It is supposed to represent the head of a victim in tended for sacrifice A golden ram's head, brought by some officers from the Royal Tem ple at °Ai:nasals weigh's forty-two otinces,and is to adorn the messroom ot the Royal Artil lery at Woolwich, haying been presented to the mesa foe that purpose. . One of the most unaccountable and kenos tibia forma of vandalism is the desecration of a grave-yard, an aggravating instance of width Is reported from Waterford, on the t3omo twenty lota were dielnured, and a me minds] tablet erected to the memory of a Meth odist minister's wlle,and a beautiful stone erect- ad to the memory of a former clergYman, were both brokep to fraZincnts• A women's heart, re 'the only true place for a mates likeifeea Au Instant eves the, Impres sion. sad an age of sorrow and aad chaego .c a nnot effect
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers