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,