.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