__.oo . - ' - §;V ; , •4 '.'',..' . a!gge 6 - ct7'l;ll.44.ls'' ,l Ptr-i,r4 k ., ,,, ,, , ,, A 11 -,4 ,-- 410 iiiia,.s, %;.40Q, !itzde4:4i'&o.4:Ufa64 . , :. ... . , --,.... , . , :,_ - . ...-___ -,_ . . , - - ..,' . . 7 ..---........ - • : - . Z . : ----------- ------ , :, . • •:,•.., . , . . . . _ , , . i - •! \ • i . FA , , ("1 -_, .-.,e" , ; r: . -. .. 1: / \. \ - .7 • _ ._:.-- - . . t.. • . 'C. • \ ...... 1• 1 t 4.... ~, ,----"\ _...„. - \I % -.,.,: \ • : lili ~.Z, Z i! , . '\• : ) Al reT)t' I \. \ ;.; • . .::. • .!. f.. i • .*. .., . . ' . ~ . ~ - „, . 411 • ' : ' I ' ' ' ' . HAWLEY & ORUSER, Fiditors and Prpprietors. 'OLDIE 32. It *3I iontro c D;m6ctiti I toNit.P.I "Ulhalk 6 r t ~ ,r1 r , Pa ~,, , Ss - -,•1. of l'un.le Avenue. • ....., . 4 „,.,.„,. L...va:An.lGeT.errtiNc r.Puelr).stO• 111.,41131.1.-, M Itt t.IMI it L-t,ur Read nA:orrewo i.d -... o .L rellubleelat•ol na,retlee ‘. tu. • 1 ~..' . .i 111 I crl king Italie% : ,• of an latch eintee.ta ta et kr. or tent $1 ;stout he, $2.1,11, It ulttuthr, $3.0; 1 s, t 111 - .1111 ditterturtt TfiTertl.ClTelflyrl ~..• Hunt. ttte Locul., In, u line lot Matt ; t.. ' ;. a line each -lib...yarn; tunattlloll. .1,,,... ant' ; 01,110.1.1,10 CI.. a line. ;ENT - E TO P-RrtsrrENTo• A SPECIALTY' 11;,rk. - Trji r. Business Cards. LISS C NICHOLS, in Drage.. Medic.ut-e. Cheroicabi , Liquors. Spica:s:N=o l'Atoa ,Lcdicince Perfumeryand TollotAr r'ere.crlptlor, carefully compounded.— . \Luc ror Aims NICnOLII. ...gt, of the Col , ..rvity of \hellion, Ann Armor, h • n!..1 iPf .I..tren.n Medical eollege of Phi la- Ipt..s 114, tia4 returned to FrieneL•villee, where he I 5:;..h0l to all ratio in Me profesighn ao usual.— In .lesete llosford's honor. Office the name m g r t•totor, t .I Et April 49th.. 1t , 77. am El,G.t.n . A. TCFB ELL =MEM firtialway„ Neu York City. ,t- k Ind,. 4 Attorney 80th..., tiod coo, .• the L'uorto of both the State and the D.R. lb . B'. • Itfr dwelling_ next door north of Dr or. t,ld Foundry stret.t. where he would he :No al 111 , , , In n ant of Det.tal N qrrk. Hr I hat ,be eon pit. nor all, both lb Quality of rd pr.,, 'Mee hour:. from 9A. to 4 P.l F,.h 11, I 474-I.r VALLEY norsE P. Situated near the Eire Hallway De• .t I 4 largo anti con:mods°ue honi , e, hap undergone •,:tt repair Newly fitratehed mama and e,leep eompria- , • - can , . hotel. HENRY ACKERT, • r ]y:s.-U. Proprietor. 1; T 4 E. 11. CASE, NI Ali F.lO. Oak Ilarm.e4,lldiE and heavy enii, pr.( Alto. Elan nett, Breaet Elan • t • 'st lk p+ r% er)i hi nn pertalzion to :ha line •• t In•npoit. Itepairmg done prompt 7HE PA'ol'Lr's MA ILK h:T. Pftprietor. :alter' .Nleate, Llano , . Pork, Bologna Salt , ,if :13e beet qualay, contgancly on Aland. at wt 1'.t...1.11: 11 in 73 -1v 811.1.1.AG., , 5nev, Lb. r. \NI , LIFE INS7rLANIE AGSN.T :ended to promptl).oo fair tern). Oflic. east of the bank of Wm. 11. Cooper P•-Ang,./,18R9. lIILLIT - At ATIOVL. CLIARLE I' MORRIS • 13.1 - 11 ISA ItllElt, hap moved his ehop to the ,A.np.ed hy E. Mclienzte a Co . wtmre he iv to du ad kind...A work in hit line,such a. ma. pude. etc. All work done on start ~low. Ple ire call and see me. -• LITTLES k BLAKESLEE h? F:1, T LAW, have removed to their Sp the Tarhell lim:se • R. B. LITTLE. GEo. e LITTLE. • r. . 15. 1m73 E. L. BLAReptai.. EIN= , • • !••••ket Cutler) , Stereer.r. , ptc Vtewt, Yetukee etc. Next (luor it, the Post office. Ittout.r..,,e, N . B 14,EANS. . 1,4 EXtll.4 VG E IPITEL II urt.he. to inform the public that L,h,-rented the Exehaueve Hotel le Niotaroee. he 3,,e+r5,,41.te the tree el mg pabt:t r , t) rm., 3a: 14717 11 BURRIT7 n et.npla and Fancy Drs l.ooda. Crockery, Hard . ,• 4 4t.5e., Drugs. Oil,. and PeilotP, 1300(14 Lint- And Cap, Fur, Buffalo nol'en. Urn c: • - A M t a . Nov, 6. OIL 1) A. LATI11:0P, .-t.-r- Et.o. rot, Tanner al. Dames.. .oc Foot 01 - not M 1 troll.. Coll and coneul IL •.l Chronic D 1r IJd ITO 3 Vmlt lAN S. NtlitliEON. tender* his eervlcee to ,itotene of Great Bend and vicinity. OBlceat iris oppunite Barnum Bonne, G't Bend village. 'Any . I,n,l3lill.—tf LEWIS KNOLL, , LiA VING AN) HAIR DRESSLNGe tat uru l'..,t.ulhet hul Wiwi.. where he will • and rtatly who 11112 p want' anything :• n e id outroxe Pa. Ott: 1 1869. P -- ._ C'11..-lILLE , s .qTubIiARD -e!erlc Boots sod Shots, lists and Caps, I:rattler sue Y.nd! oafs, !Jain Street, Ist door below Boyd's Riore. W.rl; made Lu order, and reprdrang done neatly,. .I.Lruee Jail. I 1F:0. Ulf. IV. 1,. RICHARLisaN tentlera hi* ptcoienutions •crvitt.e to the citizens of Kw/trove andvicinlty.--, tJamelat 11111mo/dor on the CONIC I' ellilt%Cor BAY.. 6 tro, Foundry Ann. 1. 11569. sro 17 LL & LE-111.7T. ki••••y• at Ltoc and fiCitolll in Bankruptcy. Otnce Court ntreat.over City National Bank. Ring- EE - fieuv tut, ,tik, 1..7% Jcituze.Dev r Cha•MiCals, Fafnir. 01le. Bifices, Fancy rienfir. Jewelry, Per .. Brickßloek, liontrt , re, Pa. Btriablhilaed f Jan. 1. 187,. LA W OFF/Cif. A WATSON, Attorury6 at Law. al the col, office •s Pitch, Montroet.l'it. L .Jula. U. '71.1 R. IP ...lir/V/4 4 01f . I 0. WARREN, LAW. Flaunty. Back Puy. Panetta, Mime attended to. Office lir, , ev St9re. Morarove.Yx. : Lau. 1,.'69 (Ros.kmos, I , s‘ ”ffic , at the Court .I.lotifie, In the ,tlmc 1•+ I --rf ./ r 1171E.ATON, EN,IN LASD SPETEVOn, P addreee. Franklin Fork.. SuAqaellanna Co., Pa VES YOUEC 51.1 E 611J/it. Xontroec, Pa; Shop ovei s ore Ali "rdere Oiled to llret-rateetylt ft nurt nuttCt. 8111,1 varrgntedtO fit. Ir. w. SMITH • I.N El' I.ND Cll,llll :11,11STPACT011$11Z.—root -• :rut. Montrose. Pa. ;tag. 1. 15169. M. C. SUTTON, Ti , ,N EEIL , aud I NACIANCE AOLST. Frlendevlllie. Pa. • D. W. .1 4 EA:I{LE, IN E 1 AT LLB'. °Mee over the Store 01 M. 1. .11/1.4e Brick Block .Motarolic .Pa. tatllls9 .1 B. Lt., .4. 1.1. ifet'OLlATAit . Law Oaleo us,r tbe'llank, Idotittote !lay 10. 1811. A MI EL Y, Additve, ItruikkynsPa nl IoNLEIC County Business Directory.' Two Riles in this Directory, one year, $1.50; eciclked NIONTROSt WM II NEDITWOUT, Slater, Wholo.alc and haat tester le all kind. of dale rooting, Pbrte paint, etc. Boots repaired with -late paint to order. leo, elate paint for mule by the gallon or barrel, Muzitruat. Pa. 1.1.1.NGs STROUD. Littera Fire and Life (non ance Agent.; al., eel! Hannifin and AccltlentTlckt to Nev York and l',hiladelphla Once or, doormat °Mee Bank: BC ENS t NICHOLS, the place to get Drugsand kiedl clue., Cigar., Tobacco, Pipe., Pocket-Book., Specta clef Yankee ?lotions, tic. Brick Mock BOYD S CORWIN; 'Dealer. if :"Bitntes,: Ilkretwant and Manatactntets WTI!. and 4hantiran niira.corna‘ of Vein antVratnsikoatreot. N. BULLARD. Denier in tirocerlee, Book., Statlone and Yankee at head of Public Avenup,..3:,rl „ WM. 11. Banton: tiell,'Eoreigt . dn. TiCketWOWW4TU.Engrilnlit#4nd Sent. . L. CClROUrnesiiinnker In alr article a.nally ke"ttllq thaltade,nppooltetto Bank. -• JAMES R. CABIFALT. Attornoy at lAw. Otter one door below Tarbell Bonne. Public Avenue. • NEW MILFORD. L. 1.. LaRaY, Dealer In all Moos of farming imple moots, mowing machines, waill curbs, dog poweiv, etc.. etc., Main Bt., opposite Savings hank. inm• SAVINGS BANE, NEW MILFORD.—Fix per cent. It wrest on all Deposits. Doer ik general Booking Bar nese. S. B. CHASE A Cu. II .0 tREET SON. Dealers in Floor. Feed, Ales Salt, Lime, Cement. Groceries nod Proviso ris 1 Math Street, opposite the Depot. AINEY A HAYDEN, Dealer. t o Drugs and Medicines, and Manufacturers of Cigars, on Main Street, near the Depot. S. F. KIMBER, Carnage Maker and Undertaker Main Street. two doors below Ilawley's Store. CAYUGA PLASTER—NICHOLAS S.IIOEMARER,dea et in genuine Cayuga Plaster. Fresh ground. SicCuLLUM BROTHERS, Dealers en Groceries and Provisions, on Main Street.* J. DICK ERMAN. Sn. ' Dealer in general merehandiet Brick- and Clothing, BricStore. ou .Main Street. GIBSON. R. SI. TINGLEY—DeaIer in Stoves, Tin, Copper, Bross and Sheettron Ware. Cast c Also, mann factor er of Sheet Metals to order. Eve Trough and Lead Pip, , loudness stlemied to at lair prices—Glheon Hollow. : Pennsylvacia.-Iy. GREAT BEND. R. P. DORAN, Merchant Tailor and dealer in Reed) Made Clothing. Dry Goods ,Groceries and Provisions Main Street.• SCRANTON SUMS BM 120 Wyonang Avenue, RECEIVES MONEY ON DEPOSIT FROM COMPANIES AND INDIVID UALS, AND RE 'URNS THE SAME ON DEMAND WI MOUT PREVI OUS NOTICE, ALLOW ING INTER EST AT SIX PER CENT. PER AN NUM, PAYABLE HALF YEARLY, ON THE FIRST DAYS OF JANU ARY AND JULY. A SAFE AND RE LIABLE PLACE OF DEPOSIT FOR LABORING MEN, MINERS, ME CHANICS, AND 3uxursism, AND FOR WOMEN AND CHILDREN AS WELL. MONEY DEPOSITED ON OR BEFORE THE TENTH WILL DRAW INTEREST FROM THE FIRST DAY OF THE MONTH. THIS IS IN ALL RESPECTS A HOME IN sTrtrrloN, AND ONE WHICH IS NOW RECEIVING THE SAVED EARNINGS OF THOUSANDS UPON THOUSANDS OF suRANToN MIN ERS AND MECHANICS. DIRECTORS ; JAMES BLAIR, SANFORD GRANT, GEORGE FISH ER, JAS. S. SLOCUM, J. H. STTPHIN, C. P. MATTHEWS, DANIEL HOW ELL,.' A. E. HUNT, T. F. HUNT JAMES BLAIR, PRESIDENT; 0. C. MOORE, CASHIER. Hull Fnper, OPEN DAILY FROM NINE A. M., UNTIL FOUR P. 31., AND ON WED NESDAY AND sATVHDAY EVE NINGS UNTIL EIGHT o'CLOCii Feb. 12. 1x74. TA YLOR'S FAMILY MEDICINES. Pain and Lameness relieved in a short time by the use of Taylor's Celebrated OIL The great Rheumatic and Neuraligic Remedy. This IrrOirlOr is nut v cure all. but is warranted to cure more of the ails and Ills to which flesh is heir thou any other med•cine ever die. covered. Give it a trial ; if you do not find it so. it costs you nothing. It may' be used with the utmost advantage for any kind of Pain. Lameness, 'Wounds or Sores upon man or beast. Will out smart the rawest wound or sore. Full directions for nee around each bottle. Ask your Merchant for a fret. xial. No Cere— No Pay. Taylor's Cough Syrup or Expectorant. for all Throat and Lung diseases. Is very pleasant to the taste and contains nothing injurious. Try it, and stop that clotigh and take the soreness from your Throat and I tinge. Ask your Merchant for a free vial. No eAre— solToy. Taylors Condltb.n Powders for all kinds of stock and poultry. Warrautel the best renovator of the system of ran down ur diseased stock. that Las ever been dis covered. Try them for all diseases Incident to the brute creation. Directions fur .use around ouch pack age, Slo Core—No Pay. All the above medic are (or sale by Abel Turrcll and Burns A. Nichols, of Montrose, and all Druggists and Dealers throughout the country'. If. DOWNING TAYLOR. Im- al—lm. octoher 21, '74.—ly THE GREAT CAUSE OF HUM AN MISERY. Juxt Published, in a &-kled i,,Nrclope. Pik, xir (can. Lecture on the Nature. Treatmantand Radical cure of Seminal Weakness. or Spermatorrhema, induced by Pelf-Abuse. locolumen krumissots. lmputency,Nerv• Ova Debility, and impediments to Marriage cameral* ;• Consumption, Epttepoy, and Pits Mugs, and Physi c:Ml Incapacity. &k.—By HOMER J. CULVIIIeWELL. 11. D.,author of the Green Boob. A..e. The world-renouned author, in this admirable Lem , are, clearly -proves from his own expensmce that the awful connequences of Selt-Abuse may be effectually itenoveti without raedicineond without dangerous sur gical operatione, hoagies, illstrom cuts ring.• or cordi als pointing out a mode of cure at once certain and eget-tun!. by which every sufferer. no.mater what his dondivou may be, may cure himself cheaply. privalsif aad radically. at - This Lecture will proves boon to thousands: Sent under aeal, In a plain envelope, to any address post paid, on receipt of six cents. or to - . 1 poet stamps. Address the Publishers, CHAS. J. C. KLINH A CO., 1Y: Bowery. New T..rk t Post Office "Box. 4565. Nona nortOr! , . . . Iwrite pinkies in the following I:0E11111).00i: Franklin Fire twig:ranee Co.. Phil, Asantsol.3oo,ooo Continental, N Y ..... ........ ........." 4.21 ,000 Gatman la ." 1.4Th.009 Hanorer , " - 1.t.1.0 AKIO Niagara, ... .. .... . ." I.°-50.000 Farmers, York. " 9+0,000 Queens, London. " .10.000.000 $0 - Tiger-Cats - -All National Board Companies, and ass consequence, sound-and reliable, baring long been tried and alwaya Maud ',worthy., as all. - who have met with loam e,at my Ageacy.will teetify. Thome who have patronized me, wil accept my thanks. And to those who have not, can Olgy Pay, t promise to do b them, if they will favor me with an application, as I do by all, give them Insorance valet for their money. Very Reepeetfully. 11ENRY C. TYLER. W. A. e.o.m.Now Hartford Accident Insurance Company Policies writ ten anon one day tome year by • . • MESHY C.. TYLER. dolo the Ilasoule Benefit AssocintlotraCSontuton. Apply t 45 ' uEs . y.r.p, TICLalt. 'Montrose, December 13, 1874.4 f - ORGANS AND MELODEONS. The Oldest. Largest,. Ane. Most Perfect Menotactury to No other Itu , deal Insirn'saent ever attained the tame • POplularlty. lar"S end no Price List Address laM=3=Zl Miscellaneous GEO. A. PRINCE & CO 54,000 IN win aee. IWEVALO, ; 4V.Y. MONTROSE, SIND COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 20, 1875. cOeirci Vottrg: MY GR %ND:MOTHER The look, the light, the sparkling mien, The glow, the bloom of sw,:et el Sier u, Radiant limn every feature, A living beauty in the face, A more than painter's pictured grace- What was the bonny creature ? "Deptn.rit seventeen seventy-two,' So runs the epigraph ; but who The artist ; or his sitter, What she was then no word to tell ; Her name, her birth, both know I well. For she—yet seems it titter To limey that I now behold While gazing on those locks of gold, Some bright immortal being Dowered with the gift of deathless youth, Than own the (lull domestic truth, Anti tell myselt•l'm seeing— An erewhile habitant of earth Of human substance, mortal birth, In yonder picture pendant, From yonder oaken wainscot worn A woman, and of woman born— Ind I—just her descendent, Ah, grandame mine ! when first did care Wrinkle that smooth brow pictured there When darkened first life's landscape thir For as I gaze, it rather Seems right, methinks, that in our race We each should change our lineal place, And I, oh maid of sunny lace ! Grizzled and gray, and void of grace— And I be your grandfather ! London Society. I==il The fisher on the sun-lit tide, Is speeding o'er the ocean wide, His boat is light ; the waves are tree, And sing in solemn harmony. His children stand upon the shore He smiles and shouts "Good-bye". once ' more, Then turns his eyes away trom home But I.tts the wayward fancy roam, To those within his lowly cot, Whose comfort is his only thought. The noon day brir.gs its rays of gold, They s% hit a sheen the billows fold ; Above the azure skies, are fair, With only cloudlets floating there, But, sit ! afar within the west, There is a darker one at rest ; It rises now, with gentle breeze, That rocks and stirs the cradled seas ; The sun looked down, and sadly smiled At sound of billows voices wild. The fisher turns his tiny barque, He sees the gathering tempest dark, And knows unless he reaches land, Before it comes, an unseen hand, sham bear - him down, where mermaids keep A vigil o'er the dead that sleep , Within the caverns, 'loath the waves Where are so many fisher graves Ile shudders, and with whitened fare Goes speeding o'er the waters space. The waves like mountains roll; too late He feels it ; knows his mournful fate ; Soon shall the ocean sound and knell, His death, to those he loves to tell, A moment more. He turns to note How near that billow is his boat It overtakes him, "children, wife," He whispers, then is lost to life. The morning dawns ; upon the sand, A tearful group in sorrow stunt Beside them is a boat and net All dripping with the Waters wet, They need not ask the waves to tell - Where he is now i—they know too well, ffitlectcd ffitog. THE GHOST OF HERON LAKE. Under the young shade of the old trees before the Heron Lake House,llugh , Cheviot tied his horse, and took off his' straw hat to feel the balmy woodland air bathe his temples. It was dewy and sweet with the scent of horse—cheimut blossoms. Through the slopes of birches' and alders the lake glimmered blue like a sheet of steel. Cheviot drew a lung, 1 quivering breath. "Glad to see you, colonel !" called his I nost from the portico. "Yes, I am here at last," responded Cheviot, advancing toward the house,but his gaze wandering alter two white but— terflies waltzing down the slope. "Pine weather," placing two chairs iu proximity on the piazza. "It seems to -me tre most beautiful Spring for years," was the response, as Cniviot sat down, the sunset light strikes full on his face—the face of a warrior. scarred and marked with life, but noble as'stern. "The house is not full, I think you acid ? It will be quiet here Y' "Quiet enough," responded Peter Stew ui shrugging his shoulders "Who are your guests asked Chevi— ot, pulling at his brown beard. "Heron Lake cannot he a fashionable locality ?" with a half-apprehensive look toward a glittering carriage-load of ladies rolling along the tree-hung road. "No, no. Those are from the village, six ntiles away. It's Mr. St. Lambert's team- Nice horses ; see the furthest bay. There's a gift for you l" "Yes, yes. Then they are not coming here ?" "Well, Mr. - St. Lambert's here—some— times." "Boards here ? And who else ?" "A. family named Stamford, another named Rochester. and a few• invalids." Cheviot appeared satisfied. The supper bell rang. After supper, .seized by the enticing charm of the steel-blue water glistening among the trees, he started suddenly to visit it. Ilia host called after him : "It's half a mile a%v'ay r• but lie still 'kept on. The glides were scented and sweet.— The birds twittered sleepily on the branch ea of blossomed bombs or eyed him' with bright, hidden eyes frOin their nests. lle loUnd a tinkling little brook leading down to the lake, aria followed it.. It winded gradually into Abe sheet, of pale bide Water. -Bankful ' , among the darkening green, Heron Like gemmed the fdrest like a pearl: "Why did they give this lovely spot suet) an. ugly titte 7 "' murmured Cher., viot, seating himself upon It' fallen tree: "Stand by the Sight though the Ileavens Mr' Phe fuding light grew dusky ; the si lence deepened ; yet the sweetness and coolness held him until all wee Vlack and still. A rushing nose in the bushes sudden ly startled loin. Was it midnight? He was wet by the dew. Ile rose to his feet, r. calling to his task of returning. But as he turned, a fieure, dimly - 111114e, stood in his path Slight, light and graceful, it waved aside, and was gone. For a moment he doubted that he had beheld it. All was din) and lonoly,and the rustling treetops were monotonously repeating some vague, sad story. - "Had lieron Lake a ghost ?" he asked himself, as he plunged through the ald.-rs homeward. ♦ * ***** * "Mr. St. Lambert, Colonel Cheviot." ' The gentlemen acknowledged the in— troduttion somewhat formally, both pri— vately preferring not to be intruded upon; but Mr. Peter Stewart silently congratu lated himself upon having done the cur n•ct thing. Mr. St. Lambert had been at the Heron Like House full three days, and until now no opportunity of presenting,Colo— nel Cheviot, his favorite guest, to this gentleman occured. Mr.St:Lambert was sitting on the piazza, and Colonel Che viot, lost to thought, .had approached in- advertently. - A cold, well•chiseled, handsome face was St. Lainheri's, with pale hair curling around it. His dress, his diamonds, were -vitsite. He was about thirty years of age . --nearly ten years you i nger than Che— vi t. Each man, you would have said, understood himself well.l The colonel remarked that it was fine weal her. "Yes, but a cursed lonely spot to find it in responded Mr. Lambert, taking qdvabtage of Mr. Stewart having been called in doors. "Yon are detained here againsb. your will :'" '•I hoped to be in Paris this month," was the reply, In three days more Peter was satisfied thathis two distinguished guests would not fraternize. Cheviot was getting the rest of spirit that he needed. And soon, since the Rochesters and the Stamfords were not intrusive, and the heart of the woods was ripen to him, he felt himself slowly com ing to life,tuter years of suffering that had benumbed him. All his hopes in life bad been centered upon a woman who was lost to him. The old story, but never beyond belief to the stricken heart upon which it fulls. Clare Edg_trton's marriage against her will, to the man to whom her father was indebt— ed, had cast a shadow, like that of the grave-stone, down the path of .Cheviot's life. All beauty, all enjoyment was lost to 'him wheh he found himself bereft' of her. He seemed to have died to himself. But noW the sky and the rustling houghg. and the violets looking at him blue and brave-efed from thegrass,aroused and vitalized him. A voice came out of the w"utl's recesses saying : "This is not all. There is more to come." Meantime he ate the trout of the hill el le streams, slept sweetly, was polite to the Stamfords and Worchesters,and avoid 't 1 Mr. Si. Lambert. Ile awoke one night and heard a voice aging out side the window. A woman's voice, sweet and strange, and with vibra• tion.± in it that seemed familiar, Moon— light shone white on the wall, through the branches of a tree. He aroused himself and looked at his watch. It was a quarter to three in the morning. Strange as the circumstance was, an almost, unacountable excitement seized him, as he dressed and went out upon tie upper piazza. But already there were lights a••d the voices of men about the house. Soon a voice—it was very like St. Lambert's—called, "We've got her!' Then all grew still. But he could not sleep again until past daylight. That singing voice so haunted him. Two weeks passed : A wild, rainy spell drove Cheviot in-doors from his accus tomed haunts, and little Mrs. Rochester, who secretly admired the stern man with the sad eyes, invited him to her private parlor, an invitation which, to his own 4 mprise, he accepted. First she tried him with.a bit of gossip. "Have von heard that Mr. St. Lambert is to be married nest week ?" Cheviot had not heard. "'l'o Miss Rosa Grant, of New York, who to staying at the village hotel, six miles off. And they do say Colonel Che— viot, that he has a wife." "A wife ?" "Yes, an insane wile. And that she is kept here in a back wing of the house with her nurse. Mr.St.Lambert is wealthy, though they say it is with her fortune; hut money won't help him to get divorced from a sick wife," continued Mrs. Roch ester, with flashing eyes, which were interpreted by the fact that the little wo man was in delicate health, and had a coarse lonkir,g husband, who treated her with brutal . indifference. "Certainly not," said Cheviot. "I have never seen this invalid woman, St. Lambert says it is his sister, bat I know parties who can prove sbe is his wife. Peter Stewart is in the secret Do yon know that she escapes and wanders about the ground ? And that is what the excitement\was about the other night !" "Indeed ! I distinctly beard some strange, stveet, singing." "She has a heavenly voice. • And she calls, sometimes, a man 's name, piercing. ly, sweetly,it would make your heart ache if yon chanced to' hear it Bat they al ways hush her up and"keep ,her as quiet as poisible. This is my third summer here, or I should rot know so much." "The skeleton in the house," said Che viot'. .."Yes, alirinst literally. They say she is pined away to look like a spirit, more than a living thing." "A spirit ? think I saw one in the woods the nightj came here!" exclaimed Cheviot. "Perhaps it ivas birs. St. Lambert." "Possibly," returned Cheviot, with a start. He sat musing for a while on what he had heard.' • It the coiirse of fete days the strange story becamefamiliar to him. The indif rerence `which he had before felt for St. Lambert now changed for" a tlecided dia. appioW'and• ' --" • • • "A had man," he said to himself, re• garding more attentively the handsome Greek profile and bold eyes. The ilex t week clt,sed the stay of Col— onel Cheviot at the Heron Lake House. , Once more he wandered ating to the lit tle sheet of blue water, and us the after— noon was hot and the balsamic scent of the pines heavy, he fell asleep, couched• luxuriantly on abed of brown, rustling leaves. A violent peal of thunder awoke him. He sprang up. The sky was black. Lines of lightning played about the tree• tops. It was too late to escape ; he could only sink back under 'the matted boughs, trusting to their destiny to protect him from l.he coming rain. "Suddenly, pleading, sweetly a voice called his name. "Hughie! Hughie Cheviot leaped to his feet. "Hughie Hughie !" • How frightfully like the voice of the woman he had lost 1 But she would nev er call him more. No, ncri—never any . more I He threw himself down among the runet leaves again, almost with a sob. How he had loved the lips which had made that plain name sweet ! Oh, God I but thou may witness the strong man's agony. When Cheviot again raised his head, the slight white figure of a woman, stood l beside the basin of the little lake. He gdzed at her, momentarily, his gaze deep ening. Her pure cut features, the wealth of silky black hair unrolled and fulling down the loose gray dress, the frail white hands, the attenuated yet graceful form —.they were like, and yet unlike, the Clara Edgerton he had been bereft o fand again he found himself upon, his feet, and breathlessly fearfully pressing forward. The white figure moved slowly along the bank, his gaze turned aside. Over head the thunder rolled heavily. Suddenly there was a crash among the bushes. The figure of a man leap?d in to view. The white figure turned at the sound. Then, like one who, weak and helpless, anticipating violence,the strange woman flung herself upon h.r knees with the ringing cry : „Mercy ! Mercy !" A muttered ours, and her capture was upon her. By her loose dark hair he dragged her prostrate. With hie booted foot he kicked her feeble body, while she seemed to have fainted. It was a man with the face of a demon that Cheviot sprang upon and choked from a hold upon hts victim. St. Larbbert For a moment the two men glared at each other. Then a Minding light seemed to sear their eyeballs. "Or.e shall he taken and the other left." When Hugh Cheviot regained con— ciousness, a woman's tender band was brushing therein front bie face. Softly her tremulous voice cooed above him : "Hughie ! Hughse !" "Clara I" He looked up into her eyes, meeting -his pitifully under the disheveled hair. 'Non are not hurt, but he is dead," she said. Clara Edgerton was the wife St. Lam bert !—who lay lifeless where heaven's thunderbolt had stretched him Wrapped close in his cloak, and borne in his arms, he carried his treasure back to the hotel. That she was now quite sane they were all obliged to acknowledge. And when St. Lambert was brought in on a stretch er, his seared, blackened and distorted face told too plainly how he had died. Miss Rose Grant drove out in her car riage, but heard a tale of her lover which sent her back speechless and shivering. Devotion and happiness won Clara back to health, serenity and strength.— Her fortune was rescued, and in a month she was the happy wife of a happy hus band—Mrs. Hugh Cheviot. The President and a Horse Dealer Among thf• enterprising citizens who contributed to the St. Louis State fair was Mr. Dillon, who is a dealer in Norman horses- Mr. Dillon has recently import ed a number of these animals from Eu rope, and had a "six-in-hand" attached to a ponderous vehicle on the fair. Driv• ing around the course, the horse fancier metold Sam Buckmaster, of Illinois, and induced him to ace. pt a seat in the cara van. They drove several times around the track, and were the observed of all observers, but finally Mr. Buckmaster, seeing two gentlemen approaching, said; "There coulee the President ; I must get out and meet him." "The President!" exclaimed Dillon; "why that is just the man I want to see. I' wanted w get hold of a man that is.a good judge of hoiseflesh. Which is the President ?" 'iTlie gentleman in dark clothes carry rying the umbrella," replied Sam. "Hanoi" oried Dillon to the stranger; "come here; I want to see you." The gentleman with the umbrella ap proached smilingly and shook Dillon 11 the hand, supposing that 6e was, some acquaintance of other times. •Whot do you think of my team ?" said Dillon. "They do very well," said the man iu' dark clothes. "Jump in and let me show you their pace. Bring your triennia along,' shouted Dillon, heartily. You must exonse me. I .don't want to'be oonspinuous," said the stranger, "Conspicuous ?" remarked Dillon.— "Get iu here and let me give you a ride behind these horses." "No—no," cried he of the umbrella; must be going." "Why don't you get , in ? ,I won't eat you said the horse fancier. At this the gtranger . and the frietill turned abruptly away, and were hist in, the c,'owd. "Well,"exclaimed. Dillon to BUCkM4I3• ter, who stood by dumfounded, "Jiist,to think that the president of a One-horse Mislouri fair. refuse to ride b. hind my team.. What a sop he must he." "President of , Abe fair !" Buckmuiter. shouted in amaze'; "don't you.knoW who ?" that N was "o," replied Dillon; "you i told me lie was the President. "So he is the President," rejoiried Buck. mitister; "but not of the fair. inheare. 'y you,knew him ?" "I'll bilaangedif I did," Dilloti "I win: Value he 'ati president of this fair," "Oh, this iii too' much l" cried Sum.— "Why, that was the President of the Uu ited States!" Dillon gr, w very red in the face, and slowly gasped forth : "Wos 7 --tbef—. Grant ?" "Certainly, it was Gen. Grant." Dillon caught up his reins, dropped his whip and exellirned, "Oh ?" A Rattleonake Joke One day last week four or five Detroit ere went into Macomb county to shoot, squirrels, and kick their shins against logs and fence rails. They had just eaten a cold lunch in the woods one noon,wheu one of the party, a young man named Dougherty, stretcehed out on his back. pulled his hat over his eyes and gave his mind up to the work of assisting his body to catch a little rest. The remain— der of the party, having an understand ing before hand, quietly withdrew, one by one. One of them passed around to a bush near Doughsrty's feet and took a tin rattle box from his pocket. Another stood close to his legs, and in a surpres— sed voice, when the signal was given, whispered : "For heavens sake ! Dougherty don't move so much us a linger, A big rattle- snake is under your leg !" "My God ! what shall. I do?" "Keep perfectly qui , t, it is your only hope ! If you even raise a linger he will dart his fangs into you r The mail with a rattle-box gave it a shake, and reached out and laid a club across Dougherty 's legs while the other man moved off about twenty feet and exclaimed : "Heavens, what can we do ? If we shoot, we may kill Dougherty I" 'Ph , club was rolled off on the ground, and the viotim wnispere4.l; . "Fur mercy sake, kill it !" The club was rolled over his leg again, tht box shaken, and the man wispered back : "Be quiet or it is instant death ! I think the snake want's to sleep, and if you will keep still you will he all right." The box . was shaken, the club moved around,and the 'snake' seemed to Dough erty, settled down on his breast. lie dared not whisper for fear of rousing it, but one of the men called out : "There, it is asleep! We'll move away and wait for it to glide off." The whole crowd moved over behind a bank, and laughed and rolled and tore up the dirt until they were exhausted, while poor Daugherty lay there like a ' not even daring to draw an oruivary breath. The sweat ran down his face and started out from his body until his shirt was wringing wet. The fellows took their guns and tramped away, leaving.dinn thus, and were gone an hour and a hall. When they returned Dougherty .was sit ting up, having discovered the joke about five minutes :previously.' - He didn't.have a word to say, but there was a whole un— abridged dictionary in his eye: They spoke to him, but fora: ansWer he rose up, shouldered his gun and made a bee line for the highway, and none of the party has met him since.--Detroig Free Press. Melancholy Justlee. Ic &trim they have a justice who, while there hi:intich justice in. his decision, has a peculiar way Of giving them. Here is an instance: "Somehow or other, soda w ater isn't what it used to be," sigh,-(1 his honor, as he leaned back behind the. pile of war rents and br.isled tie um:stunts shucks off his lap. "And the world. itself seems_ a dreary waste to me," replu,d Bijah, a, sad look coming to his eyes. "I Sometimes don't care how soon I am called upon to go." feelings, exactly," added the clerk. -.This world has iso more plena• tire ter me." The wind sighed drearily around the gables. A dog under the table uttered a mournful howl. A small how in the dor= ner wiped his eyes on his hut. The en trance of half a dozeen additional spec tators ,together with the thunder-like noise of a passing dray, acted to snap the link of sadness, and his honor forced a smile and told Nall to reach iu and grab the firgt nerson he could get hold of. • • * His name was Winn. He admit ted that he oould not buy a door-knob if brick houses were selling at a shilling apeace, and he further owned up that he had sat on the dock for ours and looked the wolf of starvation in the face. "I don't think this world as any fur ther use fury remarked his honor, after taking ii `Tong look at the prisoher 1"I see you haven't got any get-up-and vote-twice in your natnre, and your char acter has been allowed to tumble around until you feel like an old ominbus horse. "Don't abuse me,'' replied the prisoner in a mournful tone. 13nt it aunoys me to see a big, fat hulk of a lower idling away his life and chew ing appleritols to keep from starvation.— I'd get under a pile-driver, go to sleep oa u railroad track, or . walk off the wharf be': fore I'd drug out such a life. However, it'e no use talking to yon. Consider'yonr self elevated for three months, and when that's out come buck for some more." •' Old Father S. is well known on Long Ward as a colporteur and zilso as being ver? hard of hearing. Last snmmer lie stopped at the Si!lige of- R and going to the. minister of the largest church, asked the divine to give a brief little notice, the following Sunday of a new book he was selling.— The good parson promised to do so. Father S: was on hand n - the occasion which happened to be the Sunday iirc, vions to icnmmanion service. The Min. later. roseacter the last hymn -had been snug, and, OA :customary thatall.parents having •Ohildren • they 'wished: baptized , to bring them forward , and. have their. names registered on; the &arch book. -Father S. heard. nothing , but the word "books," and. thinking the minister.was given oat his. (S's)notice,. , arose to. his feet and-said : • ,• "All who have not got ono, yet. can have one by calling on :me, for the small enm of tit.so.!" "Fred bow is your ilWeerbeart ?" "Pret ty well, I guess ; %he e s uyil lieediet cull any more. It is a fruful to conceal a 'fraud: I, Bad debts, oving grudges; ' ' '4ERIVIS:—T7arip Dollars Per Year - in Advance. nine §tading. MY lIQME. No stately dome, But, a lowly, home; , , A little nest in a sunny nook ; , Where the birds and hees,. In the grand old trees, Their music join to a laughing brook No pictures Mre, • No marble rair, In my home gleams stately and fair ; But always near, Is the fact most dear, The loving heart, that will ne'er grow cold • No, seryantenre-tbere, To give me more cure, And disturb my spirit's calm rest ; For my nimble feet, And my fingers' fleet, This service of love fill the best. No sweet melody, Ras the charm for me, Like the murmuring tones of a lullaby ; Such blessings are mine, I cab. never repine, But in my dear home,l would live and die. BUSYBODIES. It Is a fact. as I've been told, That people, in the days of old, Got rich In silver and in gold, No matter what they bought and sold, By minding their own business. They did not try to wound one's fame, Or slander anybody's name ; They cared not when they wont or came ; They pleased themselves—they did the same If it was your own business. And if a man did what was right In his own mind, and in the sight Of God and Law, by day and night, Ile went ahead and fought the fight, Determined on his business. But in degen'rnte modem days There's quite a change in people's ways, And what a person dues or says • Mast gkkheld unto the gaze Of Wl''" • busybodies. And if you do not tell them, too, Where you are going and what to do They get in such an awful stew, They'll even watch and follow you— These very busybodies. And then they surely think they know Just when you come and when you itco; And they will whisper so and so, To every friend and every foe— These very busybodies. But if we take the pains to see Who these same busybodies lee We find there's not a he or site Who has a decent history, Manzi?tbesa btttybodies. But let us no Enure notice take Of evil tonoes; but for their sake, We'll hope and pray they suon may wake From wickedness, nod money make By minding their own business. A STUNNING LOVE-LETTER MY DEAL' MISS F.- Every time I think of you my heart flops up and down - like a churn dasher. Sensations of unutterable joy creep over me like young gnats over a stable root, and sends a thrill through me like Spanish needles tkrough a pair of linen trousers. As a gosling swimming, with delight In a mud puddle - , so swim 1 in a sea of glory.— Visions of ectitat , c rapture, thicker than ,the hairs in a blacking brush, and brighter than, the hues of a humming-bird's pinions, visit me In my slumbers, and borne on their invisible - wings your image stands before me and I reach out to grasp It like a pointer snapping at a hire bottle fly. When first 1 beheld your angel per fections my brain whirled round liken bumble bee under a glass tumbler-- 31v_cyteistood op en like cellar doors in a country town, and lifted my ears to catch the silvery accents of your voice. illy tongue refused, to wag, and in silent adoration, I drunk the sweetlnfevtion of hive as a thirsty man swallowellt a glass of water. Since the light of your face fell upon my life I sometimes felt as iI . I could lift thyself up by my iniot straps to the top of the Presbyterian steeple,and pull the bell rope for singing-school. Day and night you are in my thoughts. . - When Aurora, blushing like a *bride risen from her saffron couch ; when the lay bird is piping his tuneful lays, in the apple trees by the spring house ; when chanticleer's shrill chariot' her alds the comingmorn, when the awakened pig arbieth from his bed and gnrotetli, and goeth for his morning refr&liment ; when the drawl sy beetle wheels his darning flight at sultry noontide, md when the lowing cows come : home at milking time, I think of thee, and like piece of gum elastic, my heart stretches clear across my bosom Your hair is like the mom of a sorrel- horse, powdered with gold, and the brass pin stream through your waterfall fills me with unbounded awe. Yuut- forehead. Is smoother than the elbow of an old coat. Your eyes are glorious to behold. In their liquid , depths I see legions of little Cupids bath ing like &cohort nt ants in an old army crack er. When their fire hit on my manly breast, tt - permeated my entire anatomy like a load of bird shot would go through a rotten apple.— Your nose is from a chunak:ot Parian marble, and your mouth puckers with sweetness. Nec tar lingers on your lips like honey-on .a bear's I paiv, and Myriads of unfledged kisses urn there all ready, lo fly but and light somewhere; like blue birds out of a rent-nest. Your laugh rings on my • ear.like the wild-luirp's strain'. jor-.the bleating of lambs, on a bleak hillside.- The dimples on your cheek are like bowers in, beds of roses,or hollows in cakes of new home made lam dying to fly to you and pour out Abe burning tiotiuenee of my love, as thrifty h-onse kmpers pour out hot coffee. •. , • ' ' Away front you I am* melancholy as a sick rat.: Sometimes I can . bear the June bugs of despondency. buzzing in my ears, and - feel the lizards Of despair 'crawling , down 'my back.— Unemith feats thousand Aninnows, nibble at my stdrit'and my •soul Is pierced with doubts as an old cheeve is bored with skippers. • AsAhe song, bird hankets tor thetight of day, the cautionsinouss fur bacon, in; the , trup, is a lean puppy bankers for new milk, so I long for I thee. " • -• • ' . You are falter than a stmckled pullet, sweeter than a-Yankeo "doughnut fried in- sorghum mo• lassej, brighter , Ittan' the , topknot•plumagct in the head of•tt mumm . y duck, You are candy, lases, ,ratilns,' cake .. 111:14•sweetened toddy to ;tattier. • ' • " • •:• • If thole few retnarki will enable -you to, see NUMBER. 3. the inside of my soul, and me to win your af fections, I shall be as happy as a woodpecker on a cherry tree, or a stage horse in a ,green pasture. If you cannot reciprocate my thrill ing passions, I will, pine away like a poisoned bed-bug, and fall off from the flourishing vino of life en untimely branch ; and in the coming years, when the Shadows tall from the hills,and the philosophic frog sings his cheerful evening hymns. you, happy in another's love can come and drop a tear and catch a cold upon the last resting place of JULIUS EP.MINOLUB MCGOINI. THE CURSE OF DRINK The appetite fur strong drink in man has spoiled the life of more women—ruined more hopes for them, scattered more fortunes for , them, brought them to more sorrow, shame_ and hardships than any other evil that lived.— The country numbers tens--nay . hundreds' of thousands—in hopeless weeds, because their husbands have been slain by strong drink.— There.are hundreds of thousands of homes scat tered over the land, in which women live lives of torture, going through all the changes of suf fering that lie between the extremes of fear and dispair, because those. whom the} love,love wine better than they do the woman they have sworn to love. There are women by the thou sands who dread to hear the step that once thrilled them with pleasure, because that step has learned to reel under the influence of se ductive poison. There are women groaning with pain while we write these words, from bruises and brutalities Inflicted by husbands made mad by drink. There can be no exag geration In regard to this matter, because no human's imagination can create anything worse than the truth. The sorrow and horrors nt a wife with a drunken husband, or a mother with a drunken son, are as near the realization of hell as can be reached in this world at least The shame, the indignation, the sorrow, and the sense of disgrace for herself and children, the poverty, and not unfrequently the beggary —the fear and the fact of violence, the linger- ing, life-long struggle and despair of countless women, with drunken husbands. are enough to make all women curse wine, and engage 'nit• edly to oppose it everwhere as the worst enemy of their se:. YOU MAY CHARGE IT A simple little salience is this, to be sumand yet It may be eonsideied one of the most insid ious enemies wlttewhich people have to deal.— It is very pleasant to have all the little compd. ities offered for sale in the market,and it is hard to deny one's self of the same when they can be obtained by saying "charge it." But this habit of getting articles, however small the charge may be, without paying for them, keeps one's funds in a low state most of the time. "I have no money to-day, but should like the article very much." "Never mind," says the gentlemanly clerk, "you are good for It." "Well, I will take it, and you may charge And so it is that little accounts are opened at one place and another, until the young man is surprised at his In many instances, if the cash were required, the purchase would not be made, even lied the person the money by him, but to some, getting an article charged does not seem like parting with an equivalent. Still, when pay day comm, as always it does, this delusion vanishes, and a feeling is experi enced of parting with money and receiving nothing in return. It there is an actual necessity of making a purchase, and the means are not at hand, there is a resonable excuse for obtaining the same on credit; but when the article can be dispensed with until payment can be made, it is much to the advantage of the purchaser to du so. PURITY OF CH ARSCTER Over the outer coat of plum and , aprieot there grows a bloom more beautiful than the fruit Itself—a soft, delicate powder that overspreads its rich colors. 'Now if you strike your hand over that, and 4 Is once gone, it is gone forever —it only appears once. The flower- that iii - a - uga in the morning impearled with dew—arrayed with Jewels—once shake 4, so that the heads roll off, and you may sprinkle water over it us long as you please, yet it can nevallbe mule again what it was when the dew fell gently on it tram heaven. On a frosty morning you may see the panes of glass covered with landscapes, mountains, lakes and trees, blended into a beautiful, tau tastic picture. Now lay your bawl upon the glass, and by the least scratch of your finger, or by the warmth of the palm, all the delicate tracery will be obliterated. So there Is in youth a beauty and purity of character,which when once touched and defiled can never be restored—a fringe more delicate than frost-work, which when torn and broken, Will never be repaired. When a young lad or gill leaves the parents' house,with the blessings of a mother's tears still wet upon the cheek, it early purity of character be once lost, it is a 1 loss that can never be made up again. Suzli is the consequence of crime. THE MOUTH The mouth Is the frankest part of the face.— it can the least concert the feelings: We can neither hide 11l temper with It nor good. We may affect what we please, but affectation Will not help . us In a wrong cause it will only make our observers resent the endeavor to im pose upon them. A. mouth should be of good natural dlmenstons,as well us plump In the lips. Wh'ea the ancients, among their beauties, made McMinn of small mouths and lips, they. meant arnail Only as opposed to an excess the other way, a fault very common in 4frica, The say ings in favor of small menthe, which have beim the ruin 01 so many pretty .lucky, are very fib. surd. It .there be an excess either way, it had better : he a liberal one. A pretty, pursed up mouth Ilt ter nothing but to be left to its cont. .plitemicy. Large months are oftener found in onion with generous dispositions than prey small ones. Home is not a name, nor a form, nor a mu tine,'. It Is 'n spirit, a presence, a principle.— Material- and, method will not and cannot Make It must get its light and sweetnms from those who inhabit it; from flowers and' sunshine, from .the -sympathetic nature which In their exercise of sympathy, can layaside the tyitini4 cif' the broom, and the awful duty of endless scrubbing. Bomber's last ileelaration N eltureh la flat reeriNteloi' are government Nal." It that iv tNeology &ow more of it. Whet nation is most likely to sudeil,l in a Moult enterprise? Determination: .