H. D. Hawley, • • Wm, 0 Maser.
E. B. HAWLEY & Co.,
PUBLISHERS OF
TEE MONTROSE DEMOCRAT
AND GENERAL JOB PRINTERS,
Susquehanna County, Pa.
OrrteE—West Side of Public Avenue.
Business Bards
BURNS & NICHOLS,
..its In Dreg., Medicine', Chemical' Dye
• ento tr,Oi Is, Varnish, Liquors, Bpiee".Faney
,r:.cies,i'acent Medicines, PerfnmerTand TolletAr
carofally compounded.—
linen fno k, Mootrone,Pn
S, it. 3,73`4,.
eb. I. 1372
E. P. DINES, M. D.
G ',dears of the Cult-crafty of Michigan, Ann Arbor.
end ~lso of JclTorson Medical College of Phila•
delph la, ISI4, has rot limed to Priendevillee, where be
wth attend to all culls in his profession as Usual.—
It.slth. no., in Jessie liostord's house. Office the same
hrretotore.
Friend.vtlle, Pa., April 29th., 1.974...-GIII.
EDGAR A. TURBELL
1:11111IGMTIM
No. 170 Broadway, New York City
Attend,. to ail kinds of Attorney Badness, and eon•
d acts Coupon in all the Courts of both the State and the
United Stat.,.
Pub :1, 18:4
R . W. SMITH,
lictm-ner. Rooms at hie dwelling, next door north of Dr.
ou Old Foundr direct. where he would be
happy t o e<a aU ibo.o in want of Dental VI orb. He
fe-n , confident that he can pletee all. both In quality of
wort nod to peed. Ornco hours Death A.M. co 4 P. X.
Montrone, Feb. 1/, 1074-1 f
tiar.r linsn, PA. Site/lied near trio Erie Railway Da
11.. large ADO commodious house, has undergone
A taon.,.,:h repinr. Newly furnoined rooms and sleep
ing apwinont.,epleudid tables,a ndallthings ening:l,-
INi a gist class note?: I.IIOIRY
Sept. 11110, 1:5:3.-11% Proprietor.
B. T. .1. E. IL CASE,
iIARNESS-MAKERS. Oak Harnett, light and heavy,
al lowt,t Cant , peke, Also, Blankets, Breast Blatt
keta. at.it everything pertainiug to the line
Cae.4per itian the cheapest. Repairing done prompt
It and It ;toed etyle.
ont.ure, l'a.. Oct. 29. Ism
liE PEOPLE'S MARKET.
PIIILLIT Hans, Proprietor.
Fre+h and Salted Mco:e, llama, Pork Bologna Sao
tage.eic., of :he best qualay, conatantly on nand, at
prwt, 10 .011
Idontroe.,:, Pa,. Jan. 14.
BILLINGS STIW UD.
IRE AND LIFE 1 1 / 3 17.1ANCE AGENT. Ale
ba tl these act en dafcrto p roMp tly, fair terms. Ottc.
h rot door east of the bank a. Wm. U. Cooper A Co:
Public Avenue, Montrone, Pa. (Aug. /.18139.
2 I y 17.1874.1 821.1.1k0a STROUD.
CHARLEY MORRIS
TILE UAyTI BA ItilE It, has moved his shop to the
bend tin occupied by E. McKenzie .t Co., whore he la
prepared to do ail kinds of work to his line,ancli as ma.
log switches, puff., etc. All work done ow abort
notice and pr 4 e•. tow. Please call and eee in..
LITTLES if BLAKESLEE
ATTORNEYS AT LAW. have removed to their New
Office, oppomite the Tazbell Route.
IL B. LerrLl,
I=EM
EIEZE2E2
DEALER in Books. Ptationery, Wall Paper, News fa
pers. Pocket Cutlery. Stereoscopic Vtewo. Yankee
Notions, ttc. en door to the Post Office, Montrose,
Ps. . B. DEANS.
eept..lo, ltr4
EXCHA-VGE HOTEL
"M. J. 11AltItINGTON wishes to Inform theiMillcitust
bating muted the Esunange hotel in Montrose, be
in no prepared to accommodate the traveling pi:Mite
in first-clael ttyle
ontreae. Aug. m, lel3.
II BUIWIT. 7.
Unmet Staple and Fancy, Del Goods, Crockery, Hard-
Wale. iron. stoves, Drava. Oils, and Paints, Boots
and Shoee. Elate and Caps, Fors, Bonk, Robes, Gra.
Caries. Provision, &c.
New.ttiliord, i a.. Noe, 6.
DR. D. A. LATHROP,
A.dratulotere Eu.cruo TUZILILI. Rains, a lake Foot of
Utze.tnot e treet. Call and .25111 ID D-1 Chronic
1./.l6Cue.cf
outrusi.t. Jan. 17, '7l tio3—..f.
DR. S. W. 119 YTON,
fITSIc %N G' SURGEON, tender,. his service. to
the cit.i.enn of Greet Bend and vicinity. Office at nis
reetdonce. oppoene Damara Honed, ,Bend
Sept. tat, leG'.— lf
LEWIS KNOLL,
SHAVING AND I.IAI/1 DIUISSING.
hop In the new Posy: dike belldlne, where be will
be retied ready to attenttall who may want anything
In his Dm, Montrose .I . a. Oct. 18. 1869.
cHA itiES V STODDAJW,
lealat In Soot. and She., Hata and Caps. Leather and
ern dm_., Niain Street, 1.4 door below Soyd'a Store.
W o rg mod, to order. and repairing done neatly.
ti d ..l.co,a .1.. 1 WA/.
DR. IV. L. RICHARDSON
P .IY SIC l&N & tenders his professions
•orviee,. t, the clilzens of Montrose and vicinity.—
lice sr his resider ;e, on the corpereastof &
Bros. Foe udrr I Ang . 1, 1869.
SCO VILL & DEWiTT.
Attorneys at Law and Solicitors in Bankruptcy. Mace
No. 49Cottrx street, oror City National Bank, Bing
hamton. Y. Y. Wm. 11.Scoatts,
Jane 113th. ltiVt. haunts Dzsnrr.
ABEL TURRELL
Dealer in Deno Medicines, Chen:dada, Paints, Oils,
Dye tuff, Tea., Spices. Fancy Goods. Jearel27 Per
tumary, Dada Block, Montrose , Pa. Established
IFeb. 1, 18711._
. .
LAW OFFICE.
FITCH & WATSON, attorneys at law, at the old omee
of Bewley m Fitch. Montfort. Pa.
t.. r. moo. Ono. '71.1, v. sr. 'WATSON.
A. 0. WARREN,
A T TORNE Y A . LAW. Bootty, Back Pay, Pension
and Exec un Claims attended to. °eke fro
toot below Boyd's Store. 2fontroae.Pa. Lan. 1. 'a
W. .4. CROSSMON,
attorney at Law. Office at the Court Haase, Jr the
Com:l3l.lone., Office. W. A. Caosesos.
Mon trot, Sept. . 1871. —t f.
MM=M
Cn - a. Exorsarti aim LAND Straarros,
P. C. addrera, Franklin Forkr,
Sorquetianaa Co., Pa
GROVES & YOUOO,
IIIuNAIILE TALL OHS, Montrose, Pa_ . Shop over
eb sndler'e Stara . Al l orders filled In itst-ratestylt.
;otting done On ..bort SMUG!. and warranted to lit.
IV. W. SMITH,
.3:II3INET AND CIL!Ili MANUFACTURERB,—YooI
or Hain street.. Ito=roue. Pa. hug. 1.1889.
M. C. SUTTON,
AUCTIONEER, 1113 d iNscriutScs Aciprr,
sat sou Frlendeville. Pa.
D. W. SEARLE,
A rTORIVEY AT LAW, office over Abe Store of kt.
Ucvecovr. to the Brick Block. M ontrose .Pa. Lint tB
J B. E. A. IL MeCOLLITAI,
Arrow:rya AT Law Office over the PAO. Nolaroal.
Pa Montrose, May 10. 1671. -
A. 411 ELY,
Address, 'Brooklyn, Pa.
AUCTIONEER
Joue t,
mss.
JOB PRINTING
3Elsecraxti:#,4:t
AA' irintriNF/Pitir4 ; effEAP. 7"
L
lr^~.._--its
_ - .
TWO DOLLARS PERAEAE IN ADVANCE.
VOLUME 31.
LOVE AND LABOR
We die not all; tar our deeds remain
To crown with honor, or mar with stain
Through endless sequence of years to come
Our lives shall sneak, ,When out lips are
dumb,
Altos Ntonou
What though we perish, unknown to fame,
Our tomb forgotten, and lost our name,
Since naught is wasted in heaven or earth,
And nothing dies to which God gives birth-
Though lite be joyless, and death be cold,
And pleasures pall as the world grows old.
Yet God has granted our hearts relief,
For Love and Labor can conquer grief.
Love sheds a light on the gloomy way,
And Labor hurries the weary day ;
Though dbath be fearful, and life be hard,
Yet Love and Labor shall wiu reward.
If Love can dry up a single tear, • -
If lifalung Labor avail to clear
A single web from before the true,
Then Love and Labor have won their due
What though we mourn, we can comfort
patC
; ;.;
What If we die, so the truth be plain;
A little spark from a high desire
Shall kindle others, and grow a tire.
We are not worthy to work the whole ;
We have no strength which may have a
soul;
Enough for ue it our lite begin
Successful struggle with grief and sin.
Labor is mortal, and lades away,
But Love shall triumph in perfect day ;
Labor may wither beneath the sod,
But Love hves ever, for Love is God.
THE WASTE OF WAR.
-o--
Give me the gold that the war has cost
Before this peace-expanding day—
The wasted skill, the labor lost,
The mental treasure thrown away—
And I will buy eaciftviOd 'cif soil
In every yet discovered land,
Where banters roam, where peasants toll,
Where many peopled cities stand.
cloth each shivering wretch on earth
,In needfutlitiy,.in brave. attire ;
Vesture befitting banquet mirth,
Which kings might envy and admire.
In every vale, on every plain,
A school shall glad the gazer's eight,
Where every poor man's child may gain
Pure knowledge, free as air and light.
In every crowded town shall rise
Halls academic, amply, graced,
Where ignothnetrmaY soon be arise,
And coarseness learn both art and taste,
To every province shall belong
Collegiate structures, and not few,
Filled with a truth-exploring throng
And teachers of the good and true.
A temple to attract and teach
Shall lift its spire on every hill,
Where pious men shall feel and preach
Feace, mercy, toleration, good will ;
Musient bells on Sabbath days
Round the whole earth shall gladly rise,
And the great Christian song of praise
Stream sweetly upward to the skies 1
MOST MYSTERIOVS.
-0--
While I was with Troy & Robinson,
my first clerkship, by the way, I used to
count a great deal on my vacation—it
was four weeks in September—and lay a
good me ny plans about spending it pleas.
antly. Of course an invitation to some
nice place vas acceptable, for a junior
clerk's income is not often large; and this
year, 18—,no matter fur the figures, I was
very much in hopes of two—one from
my maternal grandmother in Virginia,
another from my old friend Charlie Pell,
who had some months before promised
to ask me to his mother's residence near
Boston. Now my grandmother was a
rich woman who had been a beauty, and
was very much of the opinion that she
would always remain one. She had plen
ty of company, and her house was very
pleasant indeed, and I knew that Mrs.
though an etcellent woman, was
very formal, and seldom opened the cold,
best parlor, where the piano was kept in
solitary confinement, except for a prayer
meeting.
If my grandmother invited me,l should
excuse myself to Charley and go to her,
and flirt-with the girls and play whist,
and enjoy myself generally ; but if she
cheated me, as she sometimes did, why
then I'd accept the Pell? onvitation.—
Charlie was a pleasant fellow; and I was
a very little in love with his sister, who
would surely be home from boarding
school. These were my plans, but as
time passed on and biought no letter
from e'ther of the parties, whom I had
supposed to be my expectant hosts, my
s?irits sank, and I looked forward dreari
ly to the hottest room in a cheap country
boarding-house, or the alternative of
staying at home at Mrs. Ferguson's and
hearing how all the absent boarders were
enjoying themselves at the seaside.
Just eel had quite begun to despair,
however—indeed it was the twenty-eighth
of July—the earliest post brought me
two letters, one a pale blue envelope, on
which I recognised my grandmother's
fine running hand ; the other a white,
business-looking affair, bearing Charlie
Pell's wild scrawl
Two invitations at once. I chuckled
with delight, and having hurried up to
my own hall bedroom quite forgetful of
my breakfast, I tore open the blue Nave.
lope, out of which tumbled--semething
crisp and green, which, on examination,
proved to be a banknote for one hun
dred dollars, and which astonished me
very inuch,for my grandmother had nev
er made me any presents of more value
than a flat pincushion and a pen-wiper
at Christmas time, and read these [nye
terious words :
"DLLs Wanton To-1 know you expect
an invitation, and I meant to ask you,
but ntrctimatances have *enured- that pre.
vent nie'fmmlutyine the plettsure: Tim
more - your -friend than- ever,Aut . I fear I
can never ask you - to visit -- me aiitin. It
=ma t` logse- my pooi
company, foiZ-stuill" senalvu-what you,
POETRY.
STORY TELLER
MONTROSE, PA., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1874.
find enclosed every month, and will al
ways be, Yours devotedly,
C. HICHUOND.
"P. 8. I will explain in my next."
"Singular !" I said. And quite unable
to suggest a reason for my grandmoth
er's singular conduct, I pocketed the
present and opened the oth.'r note. It
was equally as mysterious :
"DEAR. ktca.—You promised to come
to me for the vacation, and you must,
but not to my mother's iioilB3. I. am at
—, at the hotel there,and Lave arrang
ed matters so that we may have a guest
Come at once. You will be very much
surprised by something which I shall
tell you when we meet.
Yours ever,
CHARLES PELL"
"No use trying to solve this problem
either," I said to myself. "Well I'll go
to Onarlie. He seems to want me. The
hotel will be jollier than the old home.
stead."
And then I went down stairs to break
fast, and ate- cold hash and drunk flat
coffee without complaint. There were
but three days more of it, and then came
a month of lounging, smoking and en
joyment. At least I was young enough
to hope so.
It was night when I left the train, and,
portmanteau in hand, entered—. Just
at the depot stood a light carriage;
"Rich., old fellow." cried a voice, and I
hurried forward to grasp Charlie Mrs
hand.
'l'm so glad to see you, aid he, 'and
I've so much to tell you—jump in. Let
me take your traps. Now shake handa
again and congratulate me—l'm married.'
'Married !' I almost shouted, 'Why,
bless your heart, Charley, accept my very
warmest congratulations And how aid
it come about ? And what does your
mamma think about it, anu—and—'
'My dear Rich.,' said Charlie, 'that's
the unhappy part of the story ; they are
furious. They have said and done the
most dreadful things. I think they want
ed me to live at.d die an old bachelor ;
but at one-and-twenty, my dear fellow, a
man must think of settling, you know,
and it's absurd for them to be so implac
able. And my lady is, perhaps, a year or
two older than I am and very lively—a
gay young widow, you know— and that
they find fault with.'
`Don't bring her to my house,' says
mamma—indeed she did ; but you—you
I know, have sympathy with me. You
comprehend that I could not forget one
I adored, because an old lady and a little
girl told me to do so. You'll understand
that no one in my place could, when you
are introduced to Lottie. I met her
while on a business trap for the house. I
—but here we are. We sup in our own
little parlor. Luttie has quite a fortune,
you know, and lives in style at home.
shall manage the place for her hereafter.
The waiter will show you to your own
room, and to our parlor when you are
ready for our society. Number twenty
four John.'
And away he flew, while I hastened to
number twenty four, made a careful tot.
let, and hastened down stairs, within? , a
pretty speech which I in:ended to make
tartly friend's bride. When I knocke•i
at the door I heard a suspicious flutter,
and doubted not that some of the billing
and cooing necessary to the situation was
going on, but Charles opened the done
for me, and I saw a lady in a lilace silk
ani plenty of lace sitting near the win
dow. Being very near sighted I saw no
more, except that she had a fan in her
hand,and was trifling with it.
`Come in, Richmond.' said Charlie.—
'Sfy dear Louie, this is my old friend,
Richmond Walters—my wife Rich.'
I advanced. The lady arose. She was
stout and blonde. 1 saw her face. She
saw mine. For one moment we stood
perfectly silent ; then she put out her
hand and I took it. Neither of us said
a word, but if my face flushed as redly
as her's did—and I think it did—it is no
wonder that Charles Pell stared at us,
'What would she do ?' I asked my
self. 'Women are quicker than men.'
She did nothing ; she merely gave me
an icy bow aid turned,away her heal,
and I, dropping her hand turned to the
other sviiidow,wli ile Charlie stood Between
us looking auspiciously at me, and grow
iug very pale.
'You have met Mrs. Pell before, per
haps ?' he inquired at last,tryiug to speak
very gayly.
I stammered.
'Once a long while ago,' said Mrs. Pell.
'I don't think the gentleman remembers
me.'
And then she fanned herself in silence.
.It was very uncomfortable. I have al
ways had a tell-tale face, and I could see
that Charlie read a great deal in it. Re
knew that I knew his wife much better
than her words admitted. In vain he
strove to talk of different subjects, and to
do the honors of the supper-table. It
was a very dull evening, and I pleaded
headache and retired early. Before I
slept a waiter brought me a little note.—
It ran thus :
"Keep the secret. Go away tomorrow. If
you have the least love for me, go."
It was not signed, but I knew that
Charlie Pell's wife had written it.
Go ; of course I would go, and the
sooner the better.
I slept little that night. At day break
I arose, and scribbled a brief farewell to
Charlie. A telegram from my employer,
I stated. called me away. Best wishes,
compliments to Mrs. Pell, etc. I had just
addressed and sealed it when some one
rapped furiously at my door, and open
ing it, I found Charlie,who strode in and
locked it after him.
'We have been friends for many years,
Richmond.' be began, 'and I have had
great confidence in you. Perhaps you
can restore it. Perhaps you can explain
the meaning of your embarrassmect at
the sight of my wife.'
'I really—' I began.
'No prevarication, you know each oth
er. She sent you n note last night. I de.
mand a sight of it !'
.What does she eq?' I asked.
'She has not been asked to sly any-
Aling,'said Pell, ".1 . leave her to her
conscience. Let me see the note ?'
'Really,' I began. •I aware you.
'You are acquainted • with Mra. Pell 2'
nAiittSha;lie. „ • '
Devoted to the Interests of our Town and County,
'I have been. Yes.'
'it is nothing to-her discredit,' said I.
'Believe me,you had better let the matter
rest. A mere—a coincidence. \
'The note related to it ?' said Pell,black
in the face with rage.
iu a measure.'
'Show it to me,' roared Charlie.
can't,' said I. 'Ask Mrs. Pell to ex.
plain. I must not show a lady's letter to
any one.'
`Her husband demands it,' said Char
lie.
'Charlie.' said I, 'what a fool you are !
There !'
And I cast the little note his wife had
written toward him.
He seized it, persue.d it eagerly, repeat
ed the words :
'lf you have the least love for me, go.'
And he instantly ola•.ched me by the
throat.
I went down he 84 upon my chest and
choked me.
I couldn't help it then. I had tried to
keep Mrs. Pell secret, but self-preserva
tion is a law of nature. I wrenched niv
cravat from his halide, and grasped his
wrists firmly. -
- - -
'Let me speak,'"l said.
give you a moment for confession.—
Speak before you die,' he said.
'I know Mrs. Pell 'very well, better than
Ido you. We have been very fond of
each other. She kissed me when we part
ed last, and called me her dear Rich—
Stop a moment, let me confess all before
you choke me. She's my grandmother.
She was Sirs. °harlots Richm>nd before
you married her, Wasn't she? 1 was
name's after her.' "
Poor Charlie - Pell stopped trying to
choke me and got up at once.
'Your grandmother? why, she's only
teen ty.eigh
'People become grandmothers very
young sometimes. Ido not know her
age,' said I.
Then Charlie let me up, and went and
sat with his face on his hands near the
window before he left me..
An hour alter I received another note
from my grandmother.
'DEAR Mon.—Don't go nnless you
choose. I've explained matters to Mr.
Pell. Yours, C. PELL.
I found out afterwards that my grand
mother bad told a dreadful fib about my
being an adopted child ;' but it really did
not matter what poor Charlie Pell thought
about that, so I never contradicted the
statement And really now that golden
hair-dye has come in, and she has been
exquisitely done by Madame Blanc, the
enameler, my grandmother has grown so
juvenile in appearance that I think she
begins to believe that she is not out of
her 'teens herself.
TUE MUTINEERS
"Mau the mast•lTZle Were!" was the
order from the mate of the Statesman,on
a bright, clear morning in the tropical
latitudes of the Pacific.
Th? order was obeyed by those whose
turn it was to take the first look-outs of
the morning. But the youngsters whose
station was in the fore &gallant crass
trees paused in the foretop, and threw a
rapid glance round the horizon.
"Sail on the weather bow !"he reported
"A boat with sail set, coming right at
The announcement caused a stir at
once on deck, and brought not only the
captain, but all the watch below up. The
all important morning duty of washing
off decks was suspendtd fur the time be
ing, to gaze upon tne unwonted specta
cle of a whale-boat alone upon the ocean
coming to board us in the morning, like
the veritable barber—Neptune, of the
equatorial notoriety.
The boat was not more than a couple
of miles from us when first discovered,ap
proaching swiftly under the combined
power of sail and oars. The captain's
telescope was brought to bear, and it was
scem ascertained that she had at least a
full crew. We tacked the matintopeail,
and hove to,waiting impatiently to know
more, and making various shrewd guess
es and speculations as to her history and
character.
''l'hey've lowered for whales and got
lost from their ship." suggested one.
"Likely enough," returned another.
"The captain makesout eight men in
her," said a coxswain, coming from
aft.
Here was a new phase of the mt.tter,
and our theory was blown to the four
winds. Nobody would lower in pursuit
of whales with any more than six in a
boat.
"Castaways, of course," was now the
unanimous opinion. Ship foundered or
burnt at sea and some of her boats lost
with her.
But we were not long kept in suspense
for the strangers brought their frail cralt
alongside as rapidly as oars and canvass
could do it and leaped on deck. In a few
minutes we were in pessession of the
whole story—a parody on the old one of
Bligh and Fletcher Christian.
The boat contained Captain Watson,
his mate and six others, from the bark
Newcastle, of Sydney, who had been set
adrift the day before by mutineers. The
second mate, named McGrgeor, was
the head of the conspiracy, which bad
been most artfully planned and carried
into execution, while he hat: charge of
the deck.
It was supposed that McGregor, the
new commander, intended to carry the
bark down among the Marshall Islands
and there dean)y her, taking up his resi
dence among the savages. There were
still twenty men on board ; but how
many of them wereactively engaged in
the plot,or how many were merely cowed
into submission to the new authority,was
more than the captain could tell.
"And how far do you suppose your
ship to be from us now ?" asked Captain
Bent.
"I have steered west northwest,by corn
p_aso as near as I could," said Captain
Watson ; "and have run, I should judge,
about eighty miles. The Newcastle when-
I lost sight of her, was by the wind on
the northwest tack, under easy Sail. She
ought to bear nearly due east trom us."
"Come, below, and let's lay off your
course on the chart... I don't know as I
can do anything Pot you, even if keitould
fall in with your ship, but it might be
some satisfaction to see her."
The two captains went into the cabin,
and soon the order was passed, along to
make all sail on a wind. Nothing was
seen during the day, and at night we
tacked back again. And the first gray
light of morning showed up the bark—
recognized at once by Captain Watson
nod his mare as their own vessel—run-
ning down across our course.
"Of course ho wont pass near U 9 if he
can help it."
"No, I suppose he will avoid us; but I
ant going to signalize, at any rate. Haul
the mainsail up," said Captain Bent, to
the officer of the deck, "and set the en
sign at the gaff."
The orders were obeyed ; and much to
our surprise, the mutineers altered their
course u little, with the evident intent of
speaking to us.
"What cite it mean, that he is so ready
t sp,ak to a straager?" was the qu , ..sti on
that passed from one to another of the
group.
"Now I think of it." said the mate of
the Newcastle,"l think I know his object.
If he really means to wind up his cruise
at one of the Marshall Islands, he will
want to make a trade for tobacco and
fire-arms."
"You've hit it," returned the captain.
"Thus moat be McGregor's object. There
;811% much tobacco on board mid but lit
tle powder. He wants to buy more. Cap•
tam Bent, let's you and I have another
talk by ourselves," be added, seeming to
have conceived some new idea.
Their conference was short; but judg
ing from the expression on their faces,
when they came on deck and took the
mates into their conference, it seemed to
have been productive of something of
importance. The bark's boat, iu which
the wanderers had been picked up, was
placed overhead on the skids, as if she
had been one of our own, and a sail
thrown over her that she might not be
recognized. The crew were instructed to
keep themselves out of sight while the
two vessels were communicating.
"What bark is that ?" asked Captain
Bent, innocently, after he had given his
own MIME'.
"The Newcastle, of Sydney."
"Who commands her ?"
"Watson," \VILOIe reply,
"One of our hal his kg broken
yesterday," hailed our captain, "and I
would like to get the service of your stir.
geon."
"Certainly. I'll come aboard,and bring
the doctor with me. I wish to see ycu
to trade with you." And with a farewell
wave of a trumpet, as the vessel passed
out of hearing, be luffed to under our
lee, and then lowered his boat.
Now the doctor of the Newcastle was
at that moment in our own cabin, he
Saving been sent adrift in the boat with
the captain ; but McGregor would, of
course, bring some one to personate the
character. This would take seven men,
from her crew ; and it was also certain
that he would man his boat with his
choice spirits,for it he brought any doubt
ful or lukewarm ones. they might prsttle.
We had .cur instructions, and within five
minutes after the seven men stepped on
our deck, they had all betn decoyed be
low and quietly secured.
The boat was veered after by the warp,
and the maintopsail filled on a wind, just
as if we had made arrangements for a
days -gam," according to the frequent
usage of whale-ships on cruising ground.
Of course our partner followed our lead.
keeping company with us all day, with
out the least suspicion. The remainder
of our plan to regain possession of the
ship could only be carried out under cov
er or darku ess.
NIcG rept. and his associates. in crime
were ironed and placed in the run for safe
keoping After dark we hove to and set
a light in the rigging, which was at once
answered by another from the Newcastle,
as she closed with us and lay under our
lee.
Away went a boat from us in charge
of our mate, with a picked crew ; while
a short distance astern followed another
with Captain Watson and his whole par
ty. The ruffian who was in charge of
the hark, calling himself mate of her,
was amused by the first corners with a
slory that his captain had made a bargin
for a quantity of ennpowdsr and tobacco,
and that our mate had been sent for the
money in payment. Suspecting nothing
he invited his visitors below, to drink and
enjoy themselves awhile. .Our men man
aged adroitly to engage the attention of
those on i.eck, and the second boat was
silently alongside in the darkness, before
her approach had been observed by them.
The alarm was given by the cry "Boat
ahoy !" hut too late. As she touched the
side•, her crew sprang up to assist ours,
forming a superior force, with all the ad
vantage of surprise. McGregor's lieu
'heant was knocked down by our mate
in the cabin ; the few men who really
had any heart in the mutiny were quick
ly disposed of ; and in fess that two min
utes from the time the boat was hailed,
the quarterdeck of the Newcastle was in
possession of her former officers.
McGregor and the other principals in
the revolt, stilt ironed, were carried to
Sydney for trial. As our season was up,
we kept company with Captain Watson,
and niacle our port there, where we were
liberalty rewarded by the owners . of the
recaptured vessel for our share in the bus
iness.
A curious incident recently occurred
or. a Western train. As the oars were
moving away from the Term Haute de
pot, a pr tty young woman came from
the ladies' car, and rushing into the
smoking car, frantically appealed to ev
ery body to stop the train, Catching
sight of the conductor, she exclaimed,
piteously, "Mr. Conductor, do please stop
the train 1 I've left my baby 1" The train
was stopped, and baby recovered, amidst
the hearty cheers of the peiiple on the
platform and the passengers; and while
the young ;nether laughed and cried and
hugge.il her little one, she , trled 'to explain
how the baby was such. a sew one that
she
she hadn't got used to it yet.
olrelt slippers"—Those It by children
in their rude young day&
FIFTY CTS. EXTRA. IF NOT IN ADVANCE.
MISCELLANEOUS READING.
THE SIGN OF DISTRESS.
Twas a :wild, dreary night, in cheerless De
cember;
'Twas a night only lit by a metem'a gleam ;
'Tway a night, of that night I distinctly re-
member,
That my soul jouneyed forth on the wings of a
dream ;
That dream found tae happy, by tried friends
surrounded,
Enjoylug with rapture the comforts of wealtlr,
My cup overflowing with blessings unbounded,
My heart fully charged from the fountains of
health.
That dream left me wretched, by friendship for
taken,
Dejected, despairing, and wrapt in dismay;
By poverty, sickness, and ruin o'ertaken,
To every temptation and passion a prey ;
Devoid of an end or an aim, I then wandered
O'er high nay and 6y way, and lone wilderness
On the past and the present and future, I pon-
dered,
But prido bade me tender no sign of distress.
In frenzy the wino cup I instantly quaffed at ;
And habit and time made me quaff to excess;
But heated by wine, like a madman, I laughed
at
The thought of e'er giving the sign of distress;
But wine sank me lower by lying pretences,
It tattered my raiment and furrowed my face,
It palsied my sinews and pilfered my senses,
And forced me to proffer a sign of distress.
I . reeled to a chapel, where churchmen were
kneeling.
And asking their Saviour poor sinners to bless?
My claim I presented—the door of that chapel
Was slammed in my face at the sign of distress.
Strolled to the priest, to the Servant of Heaven
And sued for relief with wild eagerness;
He prayed that my sins might at last be for
given,
And thought he had answered my sign of dis
tress.
Staggered at last to the home of my mother,
Believing my prayers there would meet with
success,
But father and mother, and sister and brother
Disowned me, and taunted my sign of distress
Lay down to die, a stranger drew nigh me,
A spotless white lambskin adorning his dress ;
My eyes caught the emblem, and ere he passed
by the
I gave, as before, the sign of distress.
With godlike emotion that messenger hastens
To grasp me, and whisper, "My brother I bless
The hour of my life when I learned of the Ma-
80138
To give and to answer your sign of distres."
Let a sign of distress by a craitman be given,
And though priceless to me is eternity's
Hay my name never enter the records of Heav
en
Should I fail to acknowledge that sign of dis
tress.
DANGER OF MATERNAL DECEPTION.
Ever since "-Rebekah, the prime actor
in maternal deception played off her
successful plot upon her blind and aged
husband, the patriarch Isaac, the world
has not been destitute of mothers who
intrigue with their sons against the hus
band and the father. Sometimes the plot
is to secure a greater portion of the pa
ternal estate fur a favorite son, but more
frequently in matters of smaller amounts.
The eon wants more money to spend
than the father is willing to furnish, and
the mother plots to obtain it. She may
honestly think the father is too close fist
ed with the boy, and does tot give him
the amount which true parental regard
would dictate ; and so impelled* by her
maternal love, she seeks to make up the
' deficiency by 'some scheme, which will
outwit the father, and get the money out
of him by deception.
Such a course is detrimental in the
greatest degree. It tends directly to in
jure the object of her maternal love by
breaking down all nice distinctions of
honor and of honesty. If a boy may de
(*ire his lather for selfish ends—that
father whom he is bound to respect, love,
reverence, and obey above all other men
--and does this with the approbation and
assistance of his own mother, how can
that boy be expected to have any fine
sense of honor arattionesty toward other
men;? The inevitable result of all such
practice of deception will be to destroy
in the mind of that boy all high refitted
for the truth, and lead him to seek to ob.
taro his ends by any means, however an;
justifiable, which seem to promise sue
cess. And thus he grows up to manhood
with a character noticeable. for—being
tricky, dishonest, and dishonorable.
But it is not necessary to wait until he
arrives at manhood to see the fruit. Hav
ing learned, by maternal assistansm,to de
ceive his father, he contrives like plots
against his mother. After a time she is
greatly surprised ut that same boy playing
off the grossest deceptions upon herself.
At first she is astonished above measure,
and grieved beyond expression. She can
not conceive it possible that the son for
whom she had done so much should turn
against her with so much ingratitude.—
She does not stop to think that he is on
ly practicing on her the very lessons site
has taught him; that she herself has
been one of the chief means of destroy
ing within hint all nice sense of honor,
and all true parental respect. And yet,
such are the exact facts in the case, nor
is it anything uncommon to hear boys
justify the deceptions they practice upon
their mother by saying. "Oh! pshaw 1
she cheats the old man, and I cheat her.
It's all on the square."
Too great care cannot be observed it,
maintaining the strictest honor and hon
esty in all home transactions. Everything
done and said should be the very soul of
truth. More boys—arid girls too—are
morally ruined in their homes, and by
home influence and example, than any
where else, or in' any other way. It is
done by the false lessons there taught
them; by the tonic ideas there engender
ed in iheir minds; by the deceptions
there practiced; and by the white lies
trere .spoken and enacted. Under the
influence of these they grow 'up with no
high sense of honor, with no staunch ad
herence of integrity, with-no firm-princl
ple sufficient io LW them to. the right,
T. MONTROSE DEMME AT
Coatslas all tbe Local and CI mural New s,Poetry.lito•
rtes, Anecdotes. IdiscrtOmends Besditot.Coire votd
mate, find a reliable class of advertisements.
One square, ($( clan inch space,)3 weeks. or less, it
m0ntb41.4.5.• months ,- b 0; 6 months. et 50; 1
year. $6.50. A liberal discount on advertisements o: a
grater length, Business Lotalo.lo eta. a line for Eat
Insertion, and 6 as. aline etch subsequent z usenion.—
Marriages and deallui,tree 10 eta. a nue.
NUMBER 51.
and to barricade them against the assaults
of temptation. Aud this must be tho
case, whet' home life is not the soul of
honor in all its ways—the correct prac
tice of truth and of integrity in all its
acts.
If the father deals by trickery,and seeks '
gain by fraud, and wins by intrigue, bow
can the son reasonably be'expecteeto do
any better ? If Abe mother deceives her
neighbors ; is glad, beyond expression, to
see visitors, when speaking to their faces, :
but berates them scandalously as soon as
they have departed from the doorstep,and
thus practices the thousand and one en•
acted lies of social and domestic life, bow
can it be expected that her daughters will
be guileless and truthful?
In .view of these facts,we feel that it is
of the greatest importance that mothers
should be brought to consider the danger
to their children, which grows out of
those maternal deceptions which are too
prevalent in many homes.
There is another point on which we
should like to say a few words in warning
and caution to mothers. It is to enjoin
them to check any tendency which they
may observe on the part of their children
towards cruelty.
Children are not born with en instinct
of cruelty. They are gentle as .ungels,
and it is the fault of their parents if they
become monsters when men. Freiri - eheer
thoughtlessness, and before they begin to ;
reflect, it is common for them to do many
cruel things—to tear off the wings of in
sects, or to transfix them with a pin ;
when a tittle older, to kill small birds for
pleasure, or to put small animals to grief.
These short steps toward habit lead on to
great strides. Nero had the mild and
philosophic Seneca for the instructor of
his intellect, but Agrippa for his mother.
The records of our own times, from day
to day. are stained with deeds of blood
and violence equal, in enormity, to those
which marked the wont periods of de.
clining Rome. Heathenism, in. its most
gloomy phase, could exhibit instances of
no more glaring depravity than those an
account of which is to be found in every
newspaper we take - up. All will have
their small beginnings; the child who
tortures dumb things grows up to be a
wife-beater and a ruffian.
We have all of us met with instances
in which a word heedlessly spoken against
the reputation of woman has been mag
nified by malicious tongues until tho
cloud has become dark enough to over
shadow her whole , existence. To those
who are accustomed—not necessarily from
bad motives, but from thoughtlessness
to speak lightly of women, we recom
mend a few hints as worthy of considera
tion.
Never use a lady's name in an impro-
per time, nor, except with respect, in
any company. Never make assertions
about her that you do not know to be
true, nor allusions that she herself would
blush to hear.
When you meet men who do not Ger&
ple to use women's names in a reekt.sse
and unprincipled manner, shun them,
for they are the worst members of society
men lost to every sense of honor, every
feeling of humanity.
Many . a good woman has had her char
acter ruined and her heart broken by a
lie manufactured by some villian and re
peated where it should not have been
heard, even were if the trnth,in the prey.
euce of those whose little judgement
would not deter them from circulating
the foul report.
Respect the name of woman for your
mother's and sister's sakes, and as you
would have their fair names untarnished
and their lives unembittered by slander's
serpent-tongue, heed the ill that your
own words may bring upon the mothers
and sisters or the wives or some fellow
men.
BAD LANGUAGE.—There is as much
connection between the words, and the
thoughts as there is between the thoughts
and actions. The latter is only the ex
pression of the former, but they have
power to react upon the soul and leave
the stain of count:4bn there. A young
man who allows himself to use one vul-
gar or profane word, has not only shown
that there is a foul spot upon his mind,
but by the appearance of that one word
he extends that spot and InfhtMed. it, till,
by indulgence it will pollute and ruin the
soul. 'Be careful of your words as of your
thoughts. If you can control the tongue
that no improper words are pronounced
by . it, you will soon be able to control the
mind, and save it from corruption. You
extinguish the fire by smothering it or
preventing bad thoughts bursting into
language. Never utter a word anywhere
which you are ashamed to speak in ths
presence of the refined female or the most
religions man.
Glum—Girls do not always know
their . power. It is far greater than they
thine, and were they true and brave
enough to exert it, they inigljt almost. in
a generatiou, revolutionize society about ,
them. Exert your power for good among
young men who are privileged to enjoy
your society. Gentle and good, be also
brave and true. Try to exhibit the ideal
of a woman—a pare and good woman—
whose life is mighty as well as beautiful
in its maidenly dignity and attractive
loveliness. Do not let it even seem that
dress and frivolity constitute your only,
thoughts; but let the elevation of your
character and the , usefulness of your liie
lift up the mau that walks by your side.
Some, of ybn are in intimate associations,
which, under exchanged promises, look
forward to a nearer and more enduring
relation. In these bears "do nothing to
lower but everything to refine and enno.
ble each other's character. •
One who menteth "esteem need never
Lack it friend. •
A strong mind may be tempted; but
will not yield,
• We all have enemles, and all have need
of friends.
A proud heait and lofty mountain are
never-fruitftil; •
L hThILISICILD,RTIST WICOTSIDAS Moo
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WOMAN'S IMWTATIOI9