E. B. Hawley, E. B. HAWLEY & CO., PCBLISIIERS OF THE MONTROSE DEMOCRAT, AND GENERAL JOB PRINTERS," Montrose, Susquelurana County, Pa Orrice—Wert side of Public Avenue. Business Cards. J. B. & A. H. ~IfeCO L LUIV, VrtongPSS ST L•vr Office over the Bank, Mostroto r, Montrose, May 10, 18'11. D. IV. SEARLE, rioltNEN AT LAW, office over the Store of M. ae,rduer,lo the Brick Block, Montrose, Pa. tool 69 W. W. N afITJI, k itIN ET AND CHAIR MANDPACTURRRS.—Iroot ..r Mato •creet. Montrom P 4 Wig. 1. 1819. V C. SUTTON, CT lON ESII, sad Ism:mastic Ao .Lut 69tt Prlenderille • Pa All! RI, r, Address, Brooklyn, Pa AUCTIONEER June 1, Zeit, ✓. C. 1171.4.1T0N, CIVIL ENGINEER ♦am Lam Warrens, P. O. address. Franklin Forks, dascastanna Co., JOLLY GROVES, ~,aIuttA.BLZTAILLOIt, Montrose, Pa. atop over Cbistidler'e Store. &Porde:Hl an.ui tiret-rats nineµ done on short notice, and warranted to At. A. 0. II'ARREN, tTT tiNEI A LAW. Bounty, Batt I•ay, Penoo. and Esento. oo Claims Attended to. Odlce drei ~,or below Boyd'e Store, Montrose:PE [Au. 1,•69 W. A. CROSSMON, .Attorney at Law. 0111ce at the Court House, le the Corumoosionce a Office. W. A. Cu...vox. Montroec, SeutAtt LAW OFFICE. r (Tell .t WATSON, Attorney, at Law, at the old oaks os Broder it Pitch. Montro., Pa. i. r rrnn. [411.11,-21.1 Dealer in Brno Medicines, Camden's, Paints, Oils, Li, owls, Teas, tiplees, Fancy Goods, Jewelry Pe s utnery. dc., Brick Block, Montrose, P. Established (Feb. 1,163 6COVILL & DEIWITT. urneys at Law and Solicitors In Ilankruptcy. °Mee 4 0 . an court tit.ront,uvur City National Bank, Bing nainton, N. Y. W. H. Soorts.t., .1011 c 18th. tn7s. J anos: DlC Wrrt. DR. W. L, RICIL4RDSON, re r51(1.4,1 NI."I2G.EtiN, Lenders tife profeselons .erViCee to the citizens of lionitroie sad ViCialty.— at hise.siderne, on the corner east of Sayre Gros. Foundry (elec. 1. 1069. CHARLES S. STODDARD, ,saterto Sousa sod Shoes, ❑at. and Cape, Loatber and F‘odings. Mato Street, 181 door below Mom. Work made to onter, sod repairing done neatly. NI °Larose Jim. 1 ISIT. LEWIS K_ArOLL aNAWI.I9O AND HAM DRESBMI. sop to ;..ha new Poet.ofhee buDdlne. where he will De found rusdi to attend all who may want anything iu Ws line. Montrose Pa. Oct. 13 1869. DR. S. W. D4ITON, ICY altrIAN 6 BURGEON, tendon ala services to the claton• of Groat Bead and vicinity. (Moe at ale ' ,re Wenn,. opposite SAM= UOUSe, : Bend village, iota. let, l &9.—tf DR. D. 4. LATIIROP, A,tna In letter. EfLootoo Tttzaaa. BAUM, $ Slo Foot of Chestoat @tarot. Call Bad costae] to ai Moronic nave. al on tros e. Jan, 17, '72. sto.4-0. H. BURRITZ Ist.ler en Stn.la and Pane" Da Goods. Crocker'', Ilard trate. iron. Staves, Drugs. Oils, and Paints, Roots and dboes, Hata and Caps, Pars, Bailed° Robes, Gro ceries, Provisions, Nos-Millard, k 5.. Nov, 6, "rtl.--tr. EXCHANGE HOTEL M. J. HARRINGTON sashes to Inform tbepablletbal haring rented the Exchange Hotel In Montrose, he It no' prepared to accommodate the treveling public to Arst-clase style. Moatroso. Avg. 38, 107$. LITTLES BLAZESLEE ATTORNEYS AT LAW. have removed to their Now Agee, opposite Ore Tarbell Hone& IL B. ITtort.s, 31 ontrot.c.oeL 15, 1819. BILLINGS ST72O CB 1101 AND LIFE ilfEllad.ANCli &GENT. Al Oneness attended to promptly, on fair term.. Office first door east of the bank o. Wm. H. Cooper A Public Avenue, Montrose. Pa. td0g.1.1862. ■ly 17.1872.1 Bu.s.mos denousi. B. T. .1 . , E. IL CASE, 11AHNESS-MAILERS. Oak Itarneso,light and heavy, st lowest csala prices. Also, Blankets, Breast Blan. Lets, Whine, and everythingpertaining to the line : cheaper Wan the cheapest. 'Repairing one prompt ty and In good style. idont.rose.P.. Oct. 29. ind. CHARLEY MORRIS' THE HAYTI BARBER, has moved his bop tbe building occupied by E. McKenzie 4t, Co..rtirre be is p r l p w d it tcoh do , pu ffs e t c . w 2 o 4 r lk wino h k is ldinoees a o sm abort Deuce and price. low. Plaint Val and see me. THE PEOPLE'S MARKET. Pent4r, r Hasa, Proprietor. Frcsh and Bolted Meats, Flame, Pork, Bologna Ban. 554,,, etc.. of the bast quality, constantly on hand, at priers to snit Iloutrose, Pa„ Jan. 14. 1/473.-Ir iI4.LEY HOUSE. uses Been, Pa_ Situated hear the Erie Railway De pot le a large and commodious house, has undergone s thorough repair. Newly furnished rooms and Weep upa partmenta,eplendid tablea.and all things eanaprlo ng a es at elarts Potel. Kept. 10th, la - M.-tf. Proprietor. DR. W. If. SMITH, Derrurr Booms at his dwelling, next door north of - 13 r. lialsey's, on Old Fotindry street, where he world be happy w son an those in want of Dental %era. Re ft.elo confident that he can plesse all. both in ;quality of work and to wine. Of noun , from 9A.a.t04 r. *- Montrose, Feb. 11. 1814-.-tf EDG.III A. TrEli'Eld. Cot - N0=443 AT L.m., No. 171 8..4..9. New York City. Ann 4o to ali laud. of 0at...10* Bootlaces, and cote se* In all the Courts of both the btote and the Ututea Feb it. g . P. ILINES, N. I) lir:ultimo of the entre7tarl of bablfm. Alm Arbor. A 3,5, e nd u l t . of jefteru t wi Medical allege of Philip dolphh... hot, bee r e turned to frrienclarillee, where he wiL emend to all calls to Al, Prbfoniou_ _be _hrora. — iloriderice to Jessie ficreford't house. 'Juice the Wale a. h.:relator., Priendrville. Pa.. April OWL., 38:4.--6m. BUR_Nti & NICHOLS, 1, ~31011 113 Drugs Stedtclue., Chemical* Dye- Plll2 te,ol le, Varnish, Liquors, Optees,Fancry ,n.clec Paten tidedlchies. Peet:me:laud arPre.cripcln earofully compounded.— Brick !Slack, kto Larose. Ps. . B , &taws. 4120 2 NICHOLs. 21. 1222 szsva otos paretrEte 30.s.ocrestoca. • 7 ' THIS OFFICE. CHEAP. Pry WOW. ,MONTROSE DEMOCRAT. Wm, 0 Maser TWO DOLLARS PER YEAR IN ADVANCE. VOLUME 31. I OFTEN WONDER WRY 'TIM SO Some find work where some find rest, And so the weary world goes on ; I sometimes wonder which is best I The answer comes when life Is gone. Some eyes sleep when some ayes wake And so the dreary night-hours go ; Some hearts beat where lame hearts break, I often wonder why 'tis so. Some wills faint where some wills tight— Some love the tent—and some the field ; I often wonder who is right— The ones who strive—or those who yield Some hands fold when other bands Are lined bravely in the strile ; And so thro' ages and thro' lands Move on the two extremes ol lite. Some feet halt where some feet tread, In tireless march, a thorny way ; Some struggle on where some have fled— Some seek—when others shun the fray. Scone swords rest where others clash-- Some fall back where some move on— Some Sags furl where others Sash Until the battle has becu won. Some sleep on while others keep The vigils of the true and brave ; They will not rest till roses creep Around their name above A grave. THE FOUR LEAF CLOVER. "Theraay," she thought, with a shy delight, "There's a charm in the four-leaf clover ; If that be so, I will find that charm If I search the whole field over ; For, oh ! who knows, if they tell me true, What a four-leaf clover for me will do !" So down to the meadows she sped away To search for the charm there growing, Nor heed, d the sun that kissed her cheek, Nor the wind the golden hair blowing ; But over the fragrant grass bent low To see if the prize hid there or no. But wag it the bird on the old elm tree Who flew with secret laden, And carried to Somebody, near at hand The news of our little maiden ? Or was it that Somebody wanted too To see where a tour-leaf clover grew ? For soon It happened that two heads lent In search of the wondrous clover, The while that a pair of dimpled checks, Were mantled with blushes over, But what if their search proved all for naught Since, with or without, the Spell was wrought ! 1212C1T=1 MISCELLANEOUS READING WORRLNG FOR A LIVING. "Ruined ?" Ralph Hartston made the exclamation in half incredulous and wholly surprised tone ; and no wonder ! Sidney Coster had been the day before the richest of all that wealthy circle of which they were the - representatives. "les, ruined." ''But I do nut understand it, Coster," said Hartston. "Isuppose not. You would if you were in my place," replied Sidney tuttpr ly. "how did it happen—please explain," said Ilartston, lighting a fresh cigar. Efowever mach our friends may loose, it seldom interferes much with our pleas ures in this world. "Simply and naturally enough,"replied Coster,declining with a wave of his hand the proffered cigar. "No, 1 must give up that luxury now; I have no money to spend on cigars. I trusted my money to my uncle, who, by the way,is the best fel• low in the world, and he lost it all for me; that's all. "I am amazed at your 000lness," said Ralph. "No use fretting about in now ; that won't mend matters, or make it any bet ter." is..scratsz . "That's true enough, hut very hard to practice, I imagine. How did your un cle, who, by the way, I should call a very eharp fellow,if he had knoll my fortune for me, loose all this money ? Lame sum I believe ?" "Cool hundred and fifty thousand," replied Coster as composedly as if the sums were but the same number of cents. or belonged to some one else. "And he lost it ?" "Yes, that's just it—speculating," in terrupted Sidney, as his friend glanced inquiringly at him. "And you, Sidney, what wilt you ?—" "Why,go towork of course ! What else is there tp do .?" "Work'. Sidney Coster at work 1 He the daintiest and most wealthy aristocrat of us all, at work ! Why the idea is preposterous and abstitl." The sneering laugh that followed these words nettled his listi-ner, and aroused all the manhood within him. "Why shouldn't I work—or you either, for that matter F God intended that all his ceatures should earn their bread, and because we have always lived and grown in the anti of pleasure, and eaten the bread of idleness, is it any reason wb v we always should ? Out upon such ideas I say! and away with this false pride, that will per.nit a gentleman to swindle, lie , gamble and steal, and not lower himself; but abase him to the dust if he dares to honestly earn his living. It's all wrong, and I will not be bound by it r' • He showed by his earnest look that be ment it, every word. Hartston was aghast at such levelling ideas, and said : "Just as you, please, of course Coster. You are your own master. But, of course, if you choose to put yourself down In the dirt, you won't expect your friends to come down to the same level. I, for one, would never think of associat ing with a man who worked for a living." Sidney Coster's lip curled in contempt of such a character. Harteton contin ued : "Why don't you go ahead, old fellow, and marry some rich girl ? You are a good-looking fellow and might very easi ly do it." "What an honorable thing that would be r Nroaldn't it ? I would rather starve than thus degrade myself and deceive a woman r • • • . "As you please. Good-day r And ore "friend was gone. Coster looked after him a moment, in spite of his , brave words he felt bitter against the fate that had made him a poor man. ft was a pleasant life, this that be had been leading,and it was hard to give i gyp. The n , irt thing to do was to search for POETRY. -0- 04 FATUER RYAN MONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 12, 1874. employment. He possessed nothing in this world but his clothes and a small amount of jewelry—relics of his former butterfly existence—and a heart full of courage. lie did not know how to work, had never attempted even the slightest details of business, but he sat resolutely about the task before him. Ile walked the city days and days but all in vain. No one wanted hire, There were plenty of situations, but when his qualifications were asked he was forced to tell the miserable truth and confess that be knew, just—nothing. How bitterly he regretted now,in his hour of need,tbat he had not spent the hours which he had wasted in acquiring his accomplish- ment, in learning something that would help him in his strait. Regrets were useless, and he went steadily forward upon the hard path of duty. At last he lost all hopes of ending em ployment in the city, and turned his face towards the spreading fields, and shady groves, and contented, peaceful homes of God's own land, the country. He did not know what:he shouldido there—be had not a friend in the wide world,he thought, who cared whether he lived or died. Where his uncle, the unhappy cause of his misfortunes,had gone he did not know, He only knew he was alone, tired, and heart sick, and discouraged, turning with a longing heart from the hot and dusty city streets, to fresh, green mead. owe of the country. He went. For two days he tramped slowly along, sink in mind and in body. lie had tried again and again to thud em• ployment as he came along, but still the same helplessness of ignorance was his bane barrier. He was sick, very sick,and knew not where to lay his weary head. .kt last he fell, and knew no'more. After the long blank and darkness he had a dreamy sense of a pleasant shaded room ; of open, vine-covered windows, filled with pure, fresh flowers ; of a kind. hearty,rugged face that. cams and looked at him and then spoke cheerfully to an other kind at d motherly face that hover ed over him oftener, and smoothen' his pillow, and brushed back his clustering hair, matted iv.th his restless fever-tos singe ; of another face—an angel he dreamed it was—younger and so fresh and sweet that the very sight of it seem ed to put him far on his road to health again. This face did not come as often as the others. It would steal softly in for a mo ment with the other faces:and even then, if he happened to be awake, it would dart out again in a frightened manner, as the days•passed on and he grew better,it did not come at all ; and then he grew impatient to get well and find where it At last the pleasant morning came that he was well enough to walk out and sit on the pleasant poroh, and then, unasked by thern,for they were too kind to intrude upon his secret, he told them all his sto ry, and they listened and gave him their warmest sympathy ; and one face— the timid, fresh, young one—was bathed in tears behind the leafy screen, where it had crept unseen. He had found his heaven at last. Far mer Royston—the good, worthy soul that he was—offered him refuge and a place where he could earn his living ; and he went to work. His whole heart was bent on learning, and he progressed rapidly with his duties on the farm. He made just as rapid headway into the affections of the family. Of the family in truth ; but of the shy heart in particular, he could not feel as sure. That very shy ness that added such a charm to her sweet young beauty, interposed an almost insurmountable barrier to her confidence. He could not tell how she regarded him; she was so shy and reserve, scarcely ever speaking to him, and never remaining alone with him for a moment. The months rolled on and he had been there a year. In that year of independ ence and healthy labor he had grown strong and rugged, and handsomer than ever. lie had improved in mind, also,for his accomplishments were thrown aside, he had gained a store of practical knowl edge that was invaluable to him ; and more ,he was deapirately in love. The young shy face had conquered him com pletely. One pleasant summer evening he strolled down by the river. and unexpect edly came upon Hattie Royston sitting silently beside the old tree that grew noon the water's edge. She started to her feet and word} have run away, hut he gently detained her with his arm. "Why do you always avoid me,Etattie?" he asked, trying to look into her averted face. She made no reply, and only turned farther away from him. "Do you dislike me then so much,Hat• tie ?" he asked reproachfully. The look she flashed upon him was a direct denial of the charge, yet she would not speak. "I love you so dearly and so tenderly that my whole life must be a sad one if you do not love me in return. You do not wish my life to be that, do you, Hat tie ?" The answer came so slow and faint that be had to bend his face close down to hers to hear the soft little answer— "No, not that"' lie bent so low that his face almost touched here, and then he saw it was a rosy red, with now and then a tear spark ling like a diamond. lle thought she was pained and in distress. "I am so sorry Hattie. 1 did not mean to give you pain." She stopped him with a little finger pressed upon his lips; and then looked nu. grown Wider in her joy. "Cau you not see that I am only hap py " That lam crying for that very hap piness ?" and she smiled lovingly thro' her tears. "You love me then, darling ?" he ask ed as he drew her closer to him,and bent down to look within her eves. "Yes, yes ! I have loved you so much over since—" "Ever since when ?" he asked, as she paused in sweet confusion, and her old shyness retur. "Ever since Ole day you fell out there in the road and we brought you in." They said no more just then ; what Devoted to the Interests of our Town and County, need ? the silence is full of words to lov• era, and they were more than content with this. "Will I let you have her ? Of course 1 will ! and glad of the chance to give her to so good a husband !" said Farmer Royston when Sidney asked him for his prize ; and the good wife spoke likewise. And so the days rolled rapidly towards the one appointed for the wedding. And on that very morning a letter came from the absent uncle. It was as follows "DEAR SIDNEY : The speculations that we thought had ruined you, have turned out splendid. I have in my possession over one hundred and seventy-fPe thou sand dollars all yours. Corns and take possession at once. Then followed the uncle's address and signature. Not natal after they were married did he show the letter to his bride. She re joiced at his good fortune—for his sake— and said : "You were poor, Sidney, when I mar. vied you; su you see, I loved you for your- self alone." His rich friends would come back to him. but they found no welcome. He had •tried them, and they were found wanting. TUE CIVIL ENGESEER'S STOUT "It is not much to tell," said the En gineer, as he struck the ashes from the end of his cigar : "but if you want to hear how close I came to passing in my checks, once on a time, I will tell you. One of the most wonderful things about onr late army was, that every pro fession and trade was so well represented in each regiment thereof. I remember how surprised the colonel was when or dered to build a railroad between two points, and completely puzzled how to begin ; but in half an hour, be had the men, who knew the business thoroughly, picked out from his own regiment, and myself detailed to take charge. That's the way we did things. The load was wholly in the rear of our lines, and away from danger, (not that we cared for that,) where the origlonal dwellers were undisturbed—negrops and all ; so you may believe that the change, to us poor fellows that had been in camp I so long, was most agredable. I was for tunate enough to be billeted upon a most intelligent and pleasant Southern family not the least pleasant. member (to rue) of which was a Yankee schoolmarm, who had somehow got strayed there. After runniag levils all day, through woods and swamps, I would come back to delicious "tea," and still more delicious evening with Miss Mary Doe (such was her fit ting namel and, you may be sure tiaose c,euings were never too long. I needn't make a short story long. It came to what such things always come to before long ; soldiers generally learn to do quick woo ing, and in two weeks I was bound heart and soul to the service of thl schoolmarm. We kept our engagemet secret from mo tives of policy, but there was one person who seemed to watch our meetings and movements with most observant and sus picious eye. I have said the family was "intelligent and pleasant ;" but I must except this person—the only son.—lle was a lump ish, brutal, yet mean looking fellow, and I always beleived him to be in secret sympathy with the Confederates, but too cowardly to openly join them like a Alan. It was manifest to every one but Mary herself, that this bore was in love with her ; but she in her innocence, never dreamed of such a thing, and when I told her we must liieware of Carrol Stew art,her eyes were first opened. Then she remembered many little things which told her hew deep a loye the man must have held for her all this long time. Her fears on my account were excessive, and I could not laugh them away. She knew, she said, of many a trtcherous deed done by Stewart, and that he would hesitate at nothing that couhThe done underhand ed, though he would never openly injure any one. One night I found upon my bed an an onymous note, telling me to beware of Mary Doe, for she was u spy of the ene my and had arranged with them for my capture. It implored me to fly back for safety, and was as stupid a production as can well be imagined, considering that it was addressed to a soldier. Of course I knew the writing, but said nothing to Mary. I resolved, however, to be on the watch, as I believed, if I remained, I should have the craft and wickedness of Stewart to combat. A day or two after, while directing my work—l was shot at from a close thorn thicket, which was empty before I could reach it.—Though unhit, I felt by no means comfortable, you may believe, for stick it out as we may in battle, it's bard to go through ordinary business, with the constant expectation of a bullet in some part of your person. Our labor was com pleted at fast, and as I walked back from my section to the house of Mr. Stewart, through the woods, I was pondering my love affairs and arranging the future. in bright lines of castles in the air. Suddenly, before I had heard a sound of footsteps, I was seized from behind, blinded and my hands bound. Struggles were useless, and I found that they only made my situatiod more unpleasant, so I resignsd myself to the fates,aud was led away, not ,far, to some kind of a large empty building, as I judged from the echoing of our footsteps on the walls. Afte my legs had been also bound, I was cast into a small room of this same build ing. Not a word had my captors spoken from first to last, and the only sound I heard from them was a peal of triumph ant laughter as a lock was turned on me. I managed to work off the bandage from my eyes, but though I found my prison anything but secure, I was too tightly bound to think of escaping. My cries— for I began at once, and most vigorously too—brought some one to the door in a moment, and a surly negro voice inform ed me that. if I didh't "quit dat ar' operi zing," I should be gagged. Haying no notion of that I quieted. Hero I lay for twenty-four hours at least, wipont food, or dr:nk, or sleep. At last the door opened to Carrot Stewart, who stood and smiled on me for a little time, and then, in the most blunt manner, told me unless I promised never to see Mary Doe agars I must die. I answered as bluntly, "Die it is, then! and without a word be dissappeared, but ho returned in a moment, and said that I need not hope for rescue, as my com rade had gone back to the army, think ing I were captured by the enemy.-- When he had finally gone,' lay in a state impossible to diecribe or think of now, until a sort of sleep stole over me, in the midst of which I thought my name was called. I recognized Mary's voice in an other secoud,ard such joy as only a lover can feel at such a time, rushed through my veins. But I am talking too long. It seems that she had watched Carrol,and was now come to tell me to take courage, for she would release me in one more day. Alas ! it was thirty miles to the regiment and we could expect no help short of that ! "Every moment is precious," cried the dear girl, and before I could speak she Was gone. The next day passed without food or drink, and my mental faculties partook of the weakness of my physical. I spent a good part of the day actually cursing in a inudlin way, for fear Mary would get tired, or because I was thirsty—but I thought not of death. Shortly after dark I heard foot steps, and soon Carrol Stewart and two stal wart negroes entered and loosed my bands. They tried to make me walk, but I was too weak, and they were actu ally obliged to carry me. I was borne only ashen distance from the building, which, I found to my surprise stood close to-the new railroad, ;list where there was a long, strait, level stretch of grade. A rope was fastened around my neck, and the other end run over the limb of a tree close by which end the negroes held. "Once for all," will you promise as I desire ? coldly asked Stewart. My courage revived. I burled defiance at him, lie motioned to the slaves who instantly twiehed the rope, and I was dancing in the air. flow long I hung I cannot tell; it was years of agony to my brain, when suddenly there was'a distant rumble. The negroes turned, and there, at the end of the track, appeared the monster, shaking the earth as it up proached, and scattering fire. They were filled with wonder, for they had never seen an engine, and at this moment it gave an unearthly yell, which they ech oed, and dropping the rope, fled. I faint ed ; but when I revived, friends were about me,and one nearer than any friend who now sits here as quietly, was bend ing over me, with tears on her cheeks. She bad "run" thirty miles. A Si:meowed Conanidrutti ——o— "John has never given you a ring ?" said Kate's sister to her one day, John was Katie's lover. "Never,' said Katie, with a regretful shake of her head. "And he never will until you ask him for it," returned the sister. "Then I fear I shall Ter get one,"was the reply. "01 coarse you never will. John is too stupid to think of such things, and you can never pluck up courage to ask for one, and it follows that you will new have one." This set Katie to thinking,and to what purpose we shall see. That evening her lover came to see her, He was very proud and very happy for the beautiful girl by his side had been for several weeks pledged to marry him as soon as the business could be properly done, and John was a grand good fellow, too, notwithstanding his obliviousness to certain polite matters. "John," Raid Katie, et length, looking with an innocent smile, "do you know what a connaidrum is "Why, it's a puzzle—a riddle," answer ed John, "Do you think you could ask me one 1 could not guess!" "I don't know, I never thought of such things. Could von ask me one ?" "I could try. 4 "Well, try, Katie." `Then answer this T. Why i 8 the letter D like a ring ?" John puzzled Ins brain over the .prob lern for a long time,but was finally forced to give it up. "I don't know, Katie. Why is it ?" "Because." replied the maiden, with a very soft blush creeping up to her tem ples, "we cannot be wed without it ?" In lees than a week from that date Katie had her engagement ring. Circumbinntlal Evidence. , The Peoria Review is here responsible : "In a vigorous chase after ruts, Friday afternoon, a boy on Jefferson street broke down a shelf to the cellar, and immola ted six jars of preserves. He gazed on the ruins with a sigh, and catching and daubing his faithful dog's nose and legs with the fruit, sent him up stairs, while the boy hid in the coal shed. lie heard feminine shrieks of dismay ; be heard the wrathful objurgetions of his sire ; he heard the unsuspec.ing dog led into the back yard and shot ; and spreading forth his hands,said solem ily, "Another victim of circumstantial evidence." A story of a recent discomfiture of Senator Carpenter is going through the papers. Wishing to enjoy a joke, he sent a page to the document room for a copy of the "mortification bill," telling some of his companions to await the page's re turn and enjoy the discomfiture. At the direction of Senator Tipton, who was in the room when the page made his request the boy was sent back with a copy of the salary-repeal bill. The smile over the face of the witty senator was a ghastly one. "If the wind blows this way for anoth er boar," said a captain on board of a ship in danger of being wrecked, to a passen ger who was a clergyman, "we shall be in heaven." "God forbid!" was the prayer full- answer of the divine. "And John Champlain was lying cold and dead, writhing in his mortal agony," says a New Jersey paper. FIFTY CTS. EXTRA IF NOT IN ADVANCE FARMER JOLLY TO Mts' BROTHER. BY D. N. BBs°. The toil of the week Is ended and my team Is now at teed, Laura her work has dnished and now sits down to read. Our home is very quiet, the children are all at rest, As I write this homely letter to the brother I love best. I have much that's news to tell you, so do:not think It strange To learn by this bit of writln&l'm Master of a Grange r 'Tie true, to secret societies opposed I've always been, But this was before the good of co-operation I'd seen. Wo meet once a fortnight now in Pomona Ball, As we call the furnished upper rooms in the house of termer Ball; Some forty of us farmers, who there can take our wives, And by work and conversation harmonize our lives We ask each other questions in a social, kindly vein, Learn bow to lesson taxes and Increase the yield of grain ; To whittle down our troubles ; to build up for our joys; To beautify our farmer homes—educate our girls and boys. We look In each other's fkces—we grasp each other's hands, As farmers and as neighbors, we protect each other's lands, We watch each other's lambs from dogs and wolves that prowl, And as Patrons vote together, while the politi cians howl. We agree no more to listen to the grand spread eagle speech Of the ring anti monopoly agent, who takes all In his reach, We are learning to live in harmony, and as dowers from the sod Grow to meet the sun light, so we're growing up to God. Our home is now far happier thou e'er it was before, Again the bloom's on Laura's cheek, as in the days of yore. Our house is better fbrnished than it was when you were here, For co-operation a profit left for all of us last year, Our neighbors now call socially when comes the eventide, As peace, friendship, prosperity, do with us now abide, This letter tells the story, so brother, think not strange, If I ask you soon to visit us, and then to join our Grange. RAILROADING IN EARLY DAYS. In the early days of the Indianapolis and St. Louis Railway, says a western exchange, there was some pretty rough times on the trains ; the road ran ,through a country which was nearly a wilderness, and some of the roughest fellows in the country traveled through. The oortductors generally bad crews of picked breicctuell, anu whenever a tight canto ep they were "in at the death." Especially was It so with old Bobby, passenger conductor reaming West. He had two fellows, Pat and Bill, great six footers, who would fight at the "drop of the hat." One of them would go through the train with the "old man," and when a pasemsger was somewhat slow in coming up with his ticket or the money, he would tap him on the shouldsr and remark, "Here, the old man's waiting on you," ana the man generally came to time. If there was any "back talk," there was a skirm ish, in which the brakeman generally came out first best. Then the old man would say "I)-.n good boys of mine ; 171 give 'em #1 extra this time." And he did. He often gave them DSO per month to do his fighting, while the com pany paid them $.15 to do the braking, It was on the same principle, however. Ono gave them money for braking car wheels and the other for breaking heads. Sometimes these belligerent brakemen would get into difficulty at stations where the train stopped, and the old man generally waited his train on them. On ono occasion Pat got into a difficulty at Sandford, and the train moved off without him. When about two Jadies away the old man noticed that he wasn't 'around.— Turning to his other brakeman, Bill, beaked where Pat was. "I suppose he's at Sandford," replied Bill. "I saw him fighting there on the platform, and suppose be didn't finish them up in time." "Well," said the old man, "let's go back after him ; Pm expecting a fight down at Shelbyville tonight, and mast have him on hand." The bell cord was Jerked, and in a few minutes the train was back at the station, and took on Pat, who was sitting down on the plat form resting. When the train reached Shelby- ville, pre enough there was a fight, and a right lively one it was, the old man being severely stabbed. He was not able to be out after it Cot several months. Those o)d days are gone, and with them are gone from the road Borne of the bravest, rough est and toughest Cellos's that ever ran upon the road. Everything Wong the road is changed, and from Indianapolis to Bt. Louis the country has been civilized, and peace and good order prevail. COUETSLUP IN NEVADA In Nevada, even as in New York, the treat business of courtship goes on as briskly as ever though some of the details vary. From the former locality we are furnished with a narra tive which is described thus nly sister Em has got a feller who has been coming td see her 'most every . rogitt for some time. Night before last to have a little Ain, I went in the parlor, and crawled under the sofa on a sly, and waited there till ho and Em had got settled ; and just as be was asking her if she was willing to be his dear partner' for lite, and trust to his strong right arm for protection and support, I gave three red-hot Indian war whooMand bumped myself up against the bot tom of the sofa, and fired off an old boPle , Pts' tot that 1 had borrowed or Brim Johnson, and, my gracious I how that feller fumped up and scooted for the door I Ile never stopped to get lila bat, but went tumbling head oVer heels down the door steps. As for Em, oho was plat that scared that she squatted right down on the floor, and screeched like blue blazes, till dad and mother came running in, with nothing on but their night clothes, and wanted to know what was the matter. But Era only yelled the louder, and kept pointing under the sod, till dad got down on his knees, and saw me there, and palled me out by the hind-leg. When he bad got me out in the wood-shed, be whopped me over his knee. and then went at mo with en old trunk strap, and I haven't got over it real nicely yet."—/farper. Passionate persons aro like men who stand on their head ; they see all things the wrong way. THE MONTHOSE DEMOCRAT Contains all the Local awl General Reire,PoetriAta- TlO 2 . Anecdote•, Miscellaneous Reading,Correspond• once, and a ratable cLau of actvertisententa Advertising antes: One square. (X or an lath tpaceja wetto, lon, $l. t suontb, 61,26 mon th s, $ 460; 0 months, 84.60 r 1 year $6.60. A liberal dtseonnt on advertisements of • greater length. Boslneee Locals, 10 cts. a ltne tor ant baseztlon, and 6 eta. a Ono each subsequent inserttgat.• Atatrlages and deaths, tree; obituaries, 10 eta, a Itne. NUMBER 32. TUE SMALL INBUSTRIES OF PARK& Poverty in France is a thousand times more active, more ingenious, more untiring in its forts alter subsistence, than that of any other country. It is only after a long and sharp struggle that the wrestler with fate sinks to the earth and declares himself vanquished Apart from the minute economy which is practiced in every branch of consumption, whether of food, or fuel, or clothing, there are numerous odd trades to which the indigent resort In order to gain a livelihood. Enough has already been said abunt the rng•pickera whom one meets so constantly at nlght,witb their baskets slang on their hacks, and armed with an iron hook and a lantern. Among that class are often to be bound those who have known better days, and I have been told of one instance where among their rank was discovered a once noted physician, whose professional career bad been ruined by an un• fortunate operation, resulting in the death of patent. A few weeks ago a female rag•plcker aged 53, and a married woman, committed sal• chic for love, and among the members of her own profession who were present at the funeral was an ox-prefect of the Seine, and a man who once kept a fashionable store on the baulevords There are other trades to establish which mast have called for a certain amount of Inventive talent. There is the vender of smoking tobacco, whose stock in-trade Is formed from the ends of cigars picked up in the streets in front of the cafes and theatres, and these cigar ends, chop ped up fine, form his merchandise. It has been estimated that in Paris the consumption of el gars amounts to three hundred thousand dally; so a vast number of cigar stumps reward daily this enterprising dealer and his numerous asso ciates. Then there is the fire-seller and the "guardian Angel." The fire-seller goes round with a brazier of hot coals in a little covered wagon lined with sheet iron, and for a son will heat up the foot warmers of market woman.— Eth makes his appearance at the market as ear ly as four o'clock In the morning In winter. The "guardian angel" is a strong fellow, whose bus iness it is to go round in the wine shops and convey home those consumers who are too drunk to go home by themselves. Some of the large taverns have a, "guardian angel" all to themselves. This celestially named individual must not quit the drunkard confided to his care till he is beyond all danger from the police or thieves. Sobriety is his primary qualification, and the first day that he is found drunk he Is Ignominiously discharged, The seeker of cigar-ends has a companion in the crust-seeker, who hunts for those refuse bits of bread—too dry, too dirty, or too mouldy for human food—which are to be found in the gut ters and in the streets. Thin bread ho sells by the bag-full to the rabbit-breeders to the sub urbs of Paris, for French rabbits are very fond of bread, and consumo largo quantities of It. The dog-shearer drives a thriving trade. It is he who attends to the toilet of those wonderful poodles with white, shaggy manes, and pink, close cropped hinder quarters,their paws adorn ed with neat little frills, and their short tails finished off with a bush like tuft of white hair,. which attracts our attention while trotting at the heels of their masters or mistresses along the boulevards. The potato-maker washes, scrubs, skins and polities old potatoes of small size till they as sumo the silky, light-colored silk of new pota toes, and may then be enveloped in tissue pa per, and sold es the earliest production of the season. The ham•boge maker, the leech-letters the bird-feeders, all exercise odd professions.— The Item-collector is the man who scours Paris in search of items for the daily papers, one of which, If found and carefully written up, may bring him from one to two francs. A dreadAti accident or a fine, a runaway home, or a mason fallen from a scaffolding, are to him precious prizes. Unfortunately be was often obliged to draw on his imagination for material for hie work. The most homble of all these trades is bilis potable that of the sorter or person whose bus iness it is to sort over and classify the rubbish collected by the rag•plckerfl: In the miserable dens where this industry is carried on it often happens that the lamps die out, and refuse to burn, so fetid is the atmosphere arising from the filthy masses accumulated there. The sort either dies soon, or abandons his profession for another for no human life can long endure the miasma engendered by the dirt in which they are obliged to work. `lt somewhat singular to trace the manner In which arose the use of the common beverage of coffee, without which few persona, in any or wholly civilized country in the world, now make breakfast. At the .time Columbus dis. covered America it had never been known or used. It only grow In Arabia and upper Ethio pia. The discovery of its use 04 4 beverage is ascribed to the superior of a monastery in Arab, in, who desirous of preventing the monks horn sleeping at their nocturnal services, made them drink the infusion of coffee. upon reports of shepherds; who observed that their docks were more lively after browsing on the frult of that plant. Its reputation spread through the adja cent countrira, and in about two hundred your; it had reached Paris. A single plant brought there In 1714, became the parent stock of all the French coffee plantations in the West Indies The Duch introduced it Into Java and the East Indies, an the French and Spaniards all over South America and the West Indies. The ex tetil of the consumption now can hardly be re alized. The 'United States alone annually eon tonne It at the cost of landing of from fifteen to sixteen millions of dollars. Bo ready to throw in an odd half-hour or an hour's ►ltpo when it will be an accommodation, and don't seem to make a merit of it. Do it heartily. Though not a word be a id , your employer will make a note of It. Make your. ,sell Indespecuißde to him, and he will lose many of tho opposite kind before ho will part With you. Thom 'feting men who watch the clock to sec, the very second their working hour Is up—who leave, no matter what state of work they may be in, at precisely the instant—who calculate the extra amount they can alight their work and yet not got reproved—who are lavish of their employer's goods—will always be the first to receive notice, when times are &Atha their services are no ranger required. 0 WOID/Uell element—The stitch. LI Priaitinna £nuY iii4VIILIPAT M011311:110 ---S 4 . II i ..%., ----- l HOW COFFEE CLUE TO BE IT En. !lOW TO KR A? 4 817MITION,
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