HAWLEY & CRUSER, Editors and Proprietors.
OLITME 32.
T I-3 P,
)11ontin,5t la‘mocrat
chit na 'on lit y, Pa-.
`• • : rnioic .\venac
Anti Genera I New , ,Poetry,St.o-
Itrading.Correspoud
-1
. adval vectlev ts.
t(1 erti•ln; Rates;
f :orb rpace.l3 wet ks. or ;eas $1
$l. 50: a Monti._ $4.50; 1
,I.,eouot gal ..averti,ements of a
,:•inert Loral-. 10 , 1 F. a Ilse for drat
h .-tibrytoornl
inrerttnn.—
. oblltiari et. In clr, a lln•.
FINE JOl3 P
MllMPiiill
(2 Ord i1.,r4
133••=93
3asiness Cards
d- V. 4 'K E 1
.nd N. y. have this day en
\;, :0,11 Cu i'artticriltp. for the practice
.11r t *, ry. nr, pr, pared in attend
no- lint . of their profess Son at
,y and turf,.
\p i.-14. ts:s.—a••ll.
II /IAL/ill/N. if. /)..
v•I:t :111 I cIAN, bar located himself at
• .. • s ;i uromd promptly to all pros
• .••••• otru•t... to' is Dire. I.:tlrt. ce
.1.. - nc.t.r.d flour, front. Boards ar
MIIIIIMEI
,• 's Lan Mont mac. Peon'.
t • 1'5,1,110i A' tended to.
•I n to I trp hetet' Court Practice.
J I is. 5511. 400 Public Avenue., °Kw
-te tli t arbeil thine, I eis.
- .
1:1) Broadway, New York City. - -
n" of tt.rncy ueineee, and
• tio k or both the State ..d the COUPONS AN I) CITY AN I) COUNT
BANK CHECKS CASHED AS USUAL.
.1J1; If. SMITH,
.•dwelling. next dour north of Dr
1 ,, I Foundry ptreet. where he would he
* We of Deutal V. ork.
can nlr 011. boal In quality of
tiftirr noun. tram 9 ...a1 to .1 P. N.
:1. :
LILLE)" HOUSE.
,vual ad near the Erie Railway De
• aaa ,nnaetlocia house, Ray undergone
N tr turni.urd room. and .Idey
HENRY ACKERT,
eroynator.
.•- I . I.OPLES ALA IiKE T.
I • ItiLLT 11 /an, Pruprle tor
Men:, Ilamr, Port. Bologna San
boa; ourdautly on hand. at
Ell!!Ellall
131 7 Ro I'D.
ANL 1.1.. k. I:ib;:a•LANCh AtiE.NT. Ale
•• 3trended toprompll3 .on fair term,. Offlr.
-oltt.. bank o , Wm. U. Cooper 4t Co
..nor.Moutrore. Pa. [Aug.1.1&69.
• 31.1..L.u50s
cRABLET MORRIS
hAr lIBAR 13EII. ha. moved his shop to the
pled by E. McKenzie & Co.. where he Ic
1 k kirk in hie IitIe,PUCII ae ma.
a . , etc. All work done ou •Lort
• -•• ..- Plea., call and nee me.
LIT & BLAK ES LEE
AT LA W. have removed to their
, Tarber. Boot,.
E. E. LITTLE,
GEO. P. LITTLE.
E. L. 131-AKE.-EE
rIMINEIM
not n.ner) . Wall Paper, Sete pa
. r.terroecuptc V lege, Yankee
It cloor to the Poet Othee. Montrone.
. It. DEANS.
E.:,(.'11A _VG E Ll 6 TEL.
r• xl..bee , to inform the publlcthal
•%. :he Exchtinf,e ilotel in Blom trust.. b'
t o a-Potortiodate the travelingpnbEr
, Bt
• : • ..,. DrS Goods, Crotkery. Hard
, • - Drug, 0112 , , and Paint., Mott.
• - t up-. Fur, Buffalo Robe, Gru•
Nur
F. U. LA.IIB. M.
ItuE , JS tender,. 'lie profenstou
of 4:reat Bowl and vicinity
rt h 2-4, if
,:'k. D. A. LA
.nc7ll. Pn cuasi 6•r LIS, n FOOl of
•t. 1..z51l itusi ...mill as a.l Chronic
, DA
,\ s ri tendert , ti,, acreicee to
.••/. • gend and vicinity. Otilcr al tlif.
lionee. Bend village
. it I• ji )
AND HAIR DFLESSLNG
i•o.tothe, bnildine. where he rill
• z, end All who m. want anyttlior.
ootroee l'a. Oct.
TODLARD,
mud Shoes, ttatv mud Caps. Leatherand
' NIA Ir. int dour below Boyd's Store.
• . • .-,• repairing done neatly.
U L. RICHARDSON
lAN a , I'I2LIEON. ttmder9 hle profeSelous
• - • , .flzene of Montrose and vkciltity.—
' l ' • • tai the comerenistof geyr‘
f&uf 1. 1869.
0171.1. & .1)B.:11 . 1TT.
- 1. , . SOileitury In Bantruptcy. (Mice
elty , Natium.l hank,
.1 N %A' n. I 3 ScuTtut.
Jrzr.ozz
BEL TL'/ZRELL.
~p;crr. Pnncy Goode, Jewelry, Per
Brlf Mon trk-re, Pa. Eatabliehet
Pan. 1.1675.
F 111CLI,
ITURNF.I t VI NSEU.LOR-AT-1.,&% , Mout
of the Court norm.
r, lG Ipl
- -
• -
WARREN, .
L Botioty, Batt Pay. Pensiut
. Cluime attonded to. Office Cr
"` • blovirt•.e.Px• Len. 2 .' 6 9
_ _
CROH.:3IOIV,
at the Court Bonze, fr the
Offict. W. A. 01086/1051.
IS7l.—tf.
J WHEATON.
I. , bINWEL AND LAND tinnerroE,
P V addreep. Franklin Parke,
Baequebanna L'o., Ps
w. W. 5M171.1,
aiN t:1 A \ MANUFeCTURERS.—trov.
N 1,:: • r.., • . 11‘.:Jirtnse, PA. 11 , 9 g. 1. 1869.
-
UTTOS,
'':CTIUNEEI: .audIN.VRAMCEAOSNT. •
.1,41 Prlend.rflle,
D W. SEARLE,
, ljttNE) AT LAW, once over the Store of M.
t , uttv r .1 c the Brick ItlockJlontrose Pa. i.sul 69
J B a 4. 11. .11cCOLLU2i,
in Yi
urixrre AT Law Office orer the Bank, Montrose
a
11, aaruat, May 10, 18a.
All] ELY,
•
. 71 UNZLIS.
14.1,144, Addreee,Brooklia, Pa
County Business Directory
Two lines in this Directory, one year. 1,1.50; each ad
ditional line, 50 cents
MONTROSE
WM. HAUGRWOUT, Slater, NVholesale and heist
dealer In all ktnde of elate roodng, %late - paint. etc.
Roofs repaired with slate paint to order. Also, elate
paint for tale by the gallon or barrel. dlontrost. Pa.
BILLINGS STROUD, Genera Fire and Life insti"
ante Agents ; aleo,sell Itallroact and AccideniTiekt
to New York and Philadelphia °dee one doureast
ofthe Bank.
BOYD A CORWIN, Dealers In Stoves, Hardware
and Mannfactnrers of Tin and Sheetlron were.cornet
of Main and Tarmalkestreet.
A. N. BULLARD Dealer In Groceries, Provision,
Books, Statlone and Yankee Notions, at bead of
Public Avenue,•
WM. H. COOPER & CO.. Bankers, sell Foreign Pas
sage Tickets and Drafts on England, Ireland and SAL
land. •
WM. L. COX, Ranters maker nod dealer In all article
nsnally kept by the trade, opposite the Bank. •
JAMES E. CARMALT, Attorney at Law. Mho. nor
door below Tarbell hones, Public Avenue. •
NEW II ILFORD.
SAVINGS BANK, NEW MILFORD.—FIx per cent. It
tercet on nil Deposita Does a general Banking Bnr
ness. -ull-tf B CHASE & CO.
.GARRET A SON. Dealers in Flour. Feed. Men
Salt, Lime. Cement. Grocieries and Prov'sn no
Main Street, opposite the Depot.
3. F KIMFIER, Carriage Mit'ker and Undertaker on
Main Street, two doors review Ilawley's Store
GREAT BEND.
H. P. DORAN, Merchant Tailor and dealer In Reads
Made Clothing, Dry Goods ,Groceries and Prpyisions
Main Street.•
Banking, kc
BANKING HOUSE
WE H. COOPER & CO.,
DICONTROSE, 1..E&._
GENERAL BANKING BUSINESS DONE.
COLLECTION MADE ON ALL
POINTS AND PROMPTLY _MA/UN
TED FOR AS HERETOFORE.
DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN EXCHANGE FOR
SI 43.. X-. 33 .
UNITED STATEN S OTHER BONO: ,
BOUGHT ,1NI) S 01.1).
ocEAN STEAMER PASSAGE TICK
ETs TO AND FROM EUROPE.
INTEREST ALLOWED ON :3PECIAL
"1" MOM DEPOI9ITI9,
AS PER AGREEMENT, WHEN THE
DEPOSIT IS MADE.
In the future, as in the past, we shall endeav
or to transact all money business to the satis
faction of our patrons and correspondents
WM. H. COOPEK A. CO.,
NI on trose, 'March 10. '75.-1 f Bankers
Authorized Capital,
Present Capital,
FIRST NATIONAL BAIA,
MONTROSE, PA.
WI LLI A M J. 'IFI 11. LL. Prf , idf
D. D. SEA R LE, [ice Prewidetii
L LENHEIM, - - Casliier
Diredors.
I). U. sEARLE, A
J. GERIETSON. M. DESSAUER
ABEL TURRELL, G. V. BENTLEY,
G. B. ELDRED, Montrose, Pa.
E. A. CLARK, Bii.izi , arritou. N. Y.
E. A. PRATT, New Milford. Pa.
M. B. WRIGHT, Susquehanna Depict,
L. S. LENIIEIM, Gnat Bend, Pa.
DRAFTS SOLD ON ET ROPE
COLLECTIONS MADE ON LL POINTS
SPECIAL DEPOSITS SOLICITED
Montrose, March 3. 1875.—tf
SCRANTON SAYINGS BANK,
120 Wyoming Avenue,
RECEIVES MONEY ON DEPOSIT
FROM COMPANIE> AND INDIVID
UALS, AND RE I'URNS THE SAME
ON DEMAND WI I'HOLf PREVI
OUS NOTWE. ALLOWING 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 MACHINISTS. AND
FOIL WOMEN AND OlllLllltt ti At 3
WELL: MONEY DEPOSITED ON
OR BEFORE THE TENTH W 11. J.
DRAW INTEREST FROM THE
FIRST DAY OF THE MONTH. THIS
1.5 IN ALL RESPECTS A HOME IN
STITUTION, AND ONE WHICH IS
NOW RECEIVING THE SAVED
EARNINGS OF THOUSANDS UPON
THOUSANDS OF SCRANTON MIN
ERS AND MECHANICS.
DIRECTORS ; JAMES BLAIR,
SANFORD GRANT, GEORGE FISH •
ER, JAS. S. SLOCUM, J. H. SUTPHIN,
C. P. MATTHEWS, DANIEL HOW
ELL, A. E. HUNT; I'. F. HUNT
JAMES BLAIR, PRESIDENT ; 0. C.
MOORE, CASHIER.
OPEN DAILY FROM NINE A.lll.
UNTIL FOUR P. M.. AND ON WED.
NESDAY AND SATURDAY EVE
NINGS UNTIL EIGHT O'CLOCII.
Feb. 12.1874.
The Newest Sensation !
GROVES & YOUNGS'
iiilMMlAttlinanllll l lo
32035.7T3E1LAC1P eau,
A RUSH OF CUSTOMERS. Alt Work WARRANT
AM. ED TO GIVE SATISFACTION IN EVERT It.ES.
PEcT. Examine our prices and give us a trial.
JOHN GROVES.
HENRY YOUNG.
Montrose. February 11875.-tf
Singh4ston Marble Works !
MI kindsf Monuments, Headstones, and :Marble
Mantle', m ade to order. • Moo. Scotch Oranktee on
band. 7. P/C/SERINO & CO.,
LIS Court Street,
vr, nenernism,
a. e. /MOWN. Blognamtou, N. Y
Oct. SS, ISM.
The fisherman wades In the turge,
The sailor sails over the seas,
The soldier steps bravely to battle,
The woodman lays ax to the trees
They are each of the breed of heroes,
The manhood attempted in etrife ;
Strong hands that go lightly to l7shor,
True hearts that take comfort in life
In each is the seed to replenish
The world with the vigor it needs—
The centre of honest affections,
The impulse to generous deeds.
But the shark drinks the blood of the fishers,
The sailor is dropped in the sea,
The'suldier lays cold by his cannon,
The woodman is crushed by his tree.
Earh prodigal life that is wasted
In many achievements unseen,
But lengthens the days of the coward,
And strengthens the crafty and mean
The blood of thr noble is lavished
That the selfish a profit may find ;
God sees the lives that are squandered
And we to His wisdom are blind.
MT MOTHER'S CHAIR
'Tis not treasured for its beauty,
For its cushions worn and old
Seem to hide, in love, its rudeness
From the eyes of stranger's cold.
But it stands within the corner
In the ruddy firs-light's glare,
And to me it brings a vision,
For 'twas mother's old arm chair.
Routh: its side we oft have gathered
When as children hi the yore,
Telling her our trials and sorrows
And of simple dangers O'er.
here we learned the sweetest lessons
Ever taught in words of prayer,
And our spirit-shrine grew clearer
11hen beside this old arm chair.
But the years brought with them changes
And the circle by the hearth
Had been broken at G‘id's summons,
One had found a brighter earth
Still we sought our n ttifs blessing,
Lingered near her eNlicre,
When the sunbeams fia parting
(hi her faded old arm chair.
And with just the time fervor
1)1,1 her WOrds of warning fall
On our ears, whllbt bhadows haunted
tViih wierd forms, the cottage wall.—
Sometimes I have half imagined
That an angel waited where
lie could see the happy picture,
'Round about the old arm chair.—
But at length the tired hands folded
In a strange and peaceful rest ;
And we laid some violets gently
On her ever silent breast. .
But we knew that she had lelt us
In our weeping, sad despair,
One all hallowed thing to cherish,
This her treasured old arm chair.
$500,000 00
100,000 00.
So for years it has been standing
In that corner where the light
Shows our eyes it, ever bringing
Thoughts of mothM-, pure and bright
Do not wonder, then, we keep it,
Though its arms arc rude and bare,
For sweet memories round it hover
'Twas our mother's old arm ,hair.
ffiriected ffitorg.
MR. DAYTON'S HOUSEKEEPER.
"WAriTE.D.—A housekeeper. No one but an
elderly person, cnmpetent, and 01 the higliet4
respectability, need apply Call between the
hours of three and lour, Thursday, April 6th,
at :No.—Michigan Avenue."
Kate Franklin read this in the paper
that lay on the counter in the little gro—
cery, while waiting to hive an ounce or
two of tea done up, and a roll of baker's
bread.
.lie tep-ated the number of the house
over to herself, as she received the change
trout the grocer.
She prepared the tea after she retuned
to the little hare attic, and ate her scan
ty meal meettatimalls. She forgot tioa
unsatisfied her appetite still was, in her
busy thoughts.
A stranger in a strange place. success
ively she had tried to fled a situation as
teacher, copyist, in a store, sewing. Sh ,
had failed in the rust three,aml was starv
ing on tilt last.
She would apply for that place, hut she
would need references. Duly one person
she knew is the whole gr-a 4 city, of suf
ficient influence Mrs. Davenport, the rich,
haughty step-sister who had ill-treated
her gentle mother while she lived, and
had hated Kate herself.
Perhaps, Kate thought, she would per
mit her to refer to her, because glad to
have her descend to mental employment.
Kate was competent for the situation.
for during her mother's long illness, and
her father's absence,she bad entire charge
of their large family, and splendid house.
But an "elderly woman." Naw Kale
was not an elderly woman, being only
twenty ; but she remembered with a sort
of pleasure, that in private theatricals in
happier days, she bud imitated the voice,
and assumed the character of an old wo—
man with success. She :knew bow to
stain the skin to give an old and wrinkled
appearance, and she had, in the bottom
of a boa, some false gray hair and a mus
lin cap worn on one of these occasions.—
She did not need to look very old—only
to present a mature and matronly appears
twee.
Mr. Edward Dayton waited at home
after dinner to see the respondents to his
advertisement. He was a handsome man
not yet thirty, with a gay, frank, good—
natured countenance.
lie leaned back in a nonchalant way
with hie feet on another chair.
"There ought to be a Mr& Dayton to
manage these housekeeper matters. Well,
there's time enough."
Two applicants were seen and dismiss•
ed in his gentlemanly way.
A third was usherd in. Mr. Dayton
instinctively laid aside his cigar, and
ced a chair for his visitor. ,
The ladyhkeness and propriety of her
manner pleased him at once. "Fallen for•
tunes," he commenced., to himself.
MONTROSE, SUSQ'A COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 5 1785.
-elect voctrg.
TILE CONTRAaT
BY BAYARD TAYLOR.
"Stand by the Bight though the Heavens thU
She answered his questions readily, but
ui lew words.
"A silent woman—a good thing," was
its inward remark.
-I think you will suit me. Mrs.--
what may I umlerstaml your name ?"
"Fran kh n.'
•"Mrs. Franklin, you will be required to
go out of tow a, about seven miles, to my
country house, Oak Grove—in the town
of Embury, on the Grand Central Rail.
road. The salary I propose to pay is six
hundred dollars per annum. Do my
terms snit you ?" ap
She answered, quietly, that they did.
"Then it is all settled. By the way I
suppose you have references, though that
is a mere matter of Form.
rhe name of Davenport was given
"Davenport? Robert Davenport,l know
them. All right. If convenient,you will
please go to morrow. Mrs. Franklin, or
Ow next day. I shall not come till the
middle of next week. i.nd probably bring
a friend or two with me. Have the chamb
bers in the center and wings prepared. if
you please. The housekeeper there now
will not leave until Saturday. She will
show von round.'
"ls Mrs.—, is your wife there, or to
go
Ile laughed.
-Mrs Edward Dayton ? Nl, she is not
there, and I do not know of her going at
present." Adding more seriously, "I have
not the pleasure, Mrs. Fran klin, of hay
ing a wife." with a slight stress on pleas
-11 re.
A vivid color came into the brown
cheek of the house-keeper, and her man
ner showed evident embarassment.
I thought—l aannot," a;:d
she stopped.
He did not notice it. His mind Mtd
uln:udy turned to other things.
lle robe
••It's all &tiled, I believe. By the way,
you may like an advance, as an evidence
our bargain. It is quite customary, I
believe, to do so," be said, as his eves fell
on the rusts. black di ess.
The housekeeper's hand closed on the
fifty dollars that he gave her ; and the
words she would have said were left nu
mb red. She moved to the door. He
opened it for her courteously.
"Good morning, tustlam."
-Good morning." she replied.
••I cannot starve. I must go. I can
keep up my disguize." she murmured.
Mr. Dayton, accompanied by a friend,
arrived at his country house the middle
the next week. Everything within
and ahout the house was in perfect order.
If the new housekeeper had made a few
mistakes at first, they were soon rectified.
Every room that she touched showed a
magical change.
tier predecessor had been one of the
kind who believed in the sunlight itever
entering a room fur fear of lading car•
p , ts.
Mr. Dayton felt this change without
knowing the reason for it. He looked
round him with a satisfied air.
It was not possible to find fault with
the variety and quality of the food placed
before them. Leer the manlier of its being
served ; and the table appuintmer is were
perfect, and Day ton congratulated him
-
self upon having found such a jewt.l of a
housekeeper.
The weeks lailtssed, and a holiday came.
Mr. Dayton bad gone to town the day
previous to retnam the rest of the week.
The housekeeper had given permission
to the servants to go also. She felt it a
welcome relief to have the house and day
to herself. She locked the doors care.
fully after the last servant. She would
make the most of her day. She would
have no dinner, only a lunch. She had al
most lot gotten her real character in that
she had assumed ; but to-day she could
be herself without fear of intrusion or
dl:covt-rv.
tins laid aside her cup arid gray dresses,
washed the stain from her skin. and ar
ranged her luxuriant hair in becoMing
eurh, and doused a petty, fresh muslin,
which fitted well the graceful, slight fig
tire. This done, she entered the parlor
and stood before the mirror, as attractive
a figure as one would often see.
-Truly 1 have forgotten my own looks,
t am Kate Frank lin,after all! - ' she laugh
t•d.
Removed from the long restraint, her
spirit rebounded. She felt gay, light
he•arted, and like committing any foolish-
"Mi,s Franklin," she said. in the min 6
ing, aff' ctvd tones of an exquisite, "it
would be inexpressible pleasing to hear
the nit/CIC or that long sileet voice."
"it Ivonld he a great pity to deprive
you of it, then," she answered,in her nat.
anti voice, "and myself, also," she added,
and going to the piano she opened it and
played a few pieces with exquisite taste
and skill, and then she sang song after
song. in a clear, sweet, cultivated voice.—
Sh•• chose at first the brilliant and trium
pkint, and then sad and plaintive suc
ceeded. There were tears in ner eyes when
she rose. But to day her moods were ea
pracious.
'Mrs. Franklin, who is playing on the
piano ?" she asked in an excellent mita
mu of Mr. Dayton's voice.
"It is ouly I, sir, dusting the keys.—
hey need dusting so often," she replied,
in Mrs. Franklin's mature tone ; and she
dusted them vigorously with her pocket
handkerchief.
"Ali, met" she said. "Now what other
foolish thing shall I do to prove myself
that I am not an elderly housekeeper, hat
a young girl, who, by virtue of her age.
should be gay, by right of birth, wealthy,
and of consideration, visited and visiting
as Mr. Dayton's lady visits and is visited.
He is noble. good and handsome," she
said with a sigh. "She will be happy.—
How gracefully she danced here at the
party the other evening, when the old
housekeeper was permitted to look on.—
She looks good and amiable, too. Mr.
Dayton danced with her three times. I
wonder if I have forgotten bow to dance?"
and huMming an air she floated grace
fully about the room.
She stopped,breattless,her cheeks bril
liant from the exercise, her splendid hair
disarranged.
"I believe I feel like stiff old Mrs.
Franklin with whom dancing doesn't
agree."
"One more song by that heavenly voice
Miss Franklin,and i shall go away dream
ing I have Aeard the angels sing," in the
ludicrous attcted voice she bad before
imitated.
"Ab," ehe toughen, half' edly, "the
compliments poor old housekeeper Fri rik•
lin receives, 1 hope won't quite spoil her,
and turn her silly old head.
She at down again at the piano, and
sang "Home Sweet Home," then played
one of Beethoven's grandest, most solemn
pieces.
She rose ; closed the piano.
'•The carnival is ended. Kate Frank•
lin disappears from the scene, and Mad
am Franklin enters."
Neither Mr. Dayton nor the servants
would have suspected, from the placid
and dignified deportment of the house—
keeper when they returned at evening, of
what strange freaks she had been guilty.
The housekeeper, as usual, when Mr.
Dayton was alone, sat a at the table. It
had commenced to rain violet tly.and the
weather had grown suddenlY culd.
Mr. Dayton, as he had done occasion
ally, invited her to the library, where a
cheerful fire burned in the grate. He
read the letters and papers which he had
brought with him from town, while she
knitted.
Au hour r more passed in silence; in•
deed, the housekeeper seldom spoke ex
cept when asked a question. At length
Mr, Dayton looked up at her, and said
abruptly :
"Yours must be a lonely life, madam.
If it is not a painful subject, may I ask
how long since you lost your husband ?"
Two hands suspended their employ
ment, two eyes looked up at him with an
alarmed expression. In his serious, sym
pathetic countenance, there was nothing
to tirighten or embarass,bnt the red grew
deeper in her cheek.
"It is a painful subject," she said at
last, falteringly. If you will please ex
cuse me."
One morning he was speaking of the
great loss of children in being deprived
of their parents.
"I never knew a mother," he said. "She•
died before my earliest recollections. I
believe that, man as 1 am, it I had a
mother, I should go to her with all my
griefs, as a little child would. I have
sometimes thought of asking you to act
us mother in the quiet evenings, when I
have longed to confide in some one. Ms•
mother would have been about your age,
I think."
Again there was a vivid color in the
cheek of the housekeeper,such as is rare
ly seen in the aged, but it was unaccom
panied by a quiver of the mouth, and
ended in a cough, but. both mouth and
cheek were quickly covered with a hand
kerchief and quite a violent fit of cough.
leg succeeded.
Mr. Dayton, however, did nut seem to
notice, though he had given her one cu
rious glance, instantly withdrawing, and
he continued :
"For instance, respecting matrimony,
whose advice is of so much value as a
mother's? Who is so quick to see through
diameter, and make a good silection ?
llad vun a son, whom about here would
you select for a daughter-in-law, Mrs.
Fran ?"
"I am not acquainted with any of the
young ladies. Mr. Dayton," she answered,
faintly, after a pause, during which he
,eemed to wait for an answer.
"True, but you haye seen them all, and
are, 1 should judge, a good descerner of
character,from observation; whom would
you select from those you hays seen ?"' he
persisted.
She redden -d and paled.
"I have heard the Misses Grandison.
spoken o'. Their appearance would tem
to prove the truth. I doubt not you
agree wish mc," she returned, quietly.
It was his turn to color, which he did,
slightly.
"I do agree with yon," he answered,
em phaticly.
It was late in September. Mr. Dayton
and the housekeeper were both in the
parlor. He had been unusually grave all
day. It seemed to the housekeeper that
his manlier was changed towards her.
"I haye a few questions to ask, if you
will permit me, Mrs. Franklin."
She felt instinctive alarm at his tone
"Ceriainly," with an effort.
There was au ominous pause.
"I have been told. that Miss Kate
Frail kllll, a young girl, by disguising her
self, palmed herself off on me for several
months as mu elderly lady. Is there any
truth in the story ?" looking searchingly
ut cer.
She started to her feet, then trembling- •
ly sank into a chair.
"Yes, it is true," she murmured, falter- I I
tr gly.
"I confess I fail to see for what object.
My heart you could scarcely expect to
gain in that character."
"Your heart !" she repeated scornfully.
"I had no such laudihle ambition ; 1 had
never seen or heard of you till I saw your
advertisement. Would you like to know
for what purpose I took upon me a dis
guise so, repugnant ? You shall. To save
myself from starvation. I had eaten hut
one meal a day for a week when I applied
to you,and was suffering with hunger
then. My money was all gone except a
few pennies, with which to buy a roll of
bread for the next day's meal, and I had
no prospects of more, for I had been re
fused further sewing. But why should
you find fault ?" her pride rising. "What
matter if I were Miss or Mrs. Franklin,
old or young, it I fulfilled the duties I
undertook ? Have I fiat taken good care
of your house ? Have I not made you
comfortable ? If I have not, deduct from
this quarter's salary, which you paid this
morning, whatever you like."
"I have no fault to find, except for
placing Yourself and me in an awkward
position were this to become known."
Waves of color mounted to the poor
housekeepers temples. .
"I thought—l ineant,that no one should
know,least of all you,besides thought
when I engaged to come you were mar
ried. Oh ; what shall Ido ?" And she
burst into a passion of tears.
Mr. Dayton's manner changed.
"Bute! Kate! I did nottiean to dis—
tress you. Nobody knows but me—no—
body shall know." And be soothed Her
tenderly. Kate look up. "I love you
with all my heart. I want you to be my
little housekeeper—my wile always. Kate
what do you say ?" taking her in his arms
and laying his cheek against hers. "My
own Kate, is it not ?'
She murmured something between her
sobs, that she must go away that minute.
"Nonsense, darling i Haven't you been
here for months ? What difference will a
day longer make ? You are safe with me,
Katie. Oh, because I know you are !Alai
Franklin, will you give me the inexpres—
sible pleasure of a song from that long
silent voice ? Oh, Kate, you bewitched
me that day I lam afraid you will be—
witch me always. But, gpte, let's off
these trappings," untying her cap, and
removing the gray hair, and with this
action down fell the wealth of brown
tresses.
"Oh, Mr. Dayton, yon were not= sure
ly you were not home that day ?" looking
up, covered with confusion.
"Yes. Mr. Dayton was—in the library,"
with an accent on his name which Kate
understood.
"Oh, Edward! and 'on teased me with
all those foolish questions when you
knew ?"
"Yea, my Kate, why not ?"
"But you looked so innocent."
He laughed.
"I shall soon, I hope, have somebody,
it not a mother, to confide in, and Kate,
it is my duty and pleasure to give you a
husband, so that in the future you can
answer without so much pain when he is
inquired alter!'
"You are too generous."
"1 can afford to be generous," he said
earnestly, "when I have the precious gift
of your love. Kate, blest forever be the
day that I first engaged my housekeeper."
The Man who fell Sad
Ho entered a hardware store on Wood
ward avenue about 10 o'cif,ck Saturday
morning, and taking a seat,by the-siove
he beckoned ti) the proprietor and said :
"Sit down here—l want to speak with
you."
He was a man who looked sad from the
orown of his hat to the toes of his boots.
There were deep care lines on his lace,
his eyes were red and anxious looking,
and his tattered overcoat was drawn in at
the waist by a wide leather belt.
"Can we do anything for you to day ?"
asked the merchant as he sat down.
The sad man slowly wiped his nose,
slowly turned around and slowly replied :
"Sir, it makes me feel sad when I re
flect that we have all gut to die !"
"Yes—um," replied the merchant.
- Christopher Columbus is dead!" con
tinued the sad man, "and who feels bad
about it—who sheds a tear at his loss ?
He is gone, and we shall never .see him
more ! You and I must sooner or later
hollow him, and the world will go on just
the same."
"Then you don't want anything to
day ?" queried the merchant after a pain—
ful pause.
"And King James is dead !" exclaimed
the sad man, wiping his nose again. "Is
anybody weeping over hie loss ? Don't
folks laf aid la, and don't toe world go
on just the same ? Sir, it may not be a
week before you and I be called upon to
rest from the labors of this life. Dosn't
it make you feel sad to think of it ?"
"Of course, we've all got' to die," re
plied the merchant as he tossed a stray
nail over among the eight—pennies.
"Andrew Jackson is dead," continued
the sad man, a tear falling QI) his hand.
"Yes, Andrew has been gathered, and a
good man has gone from among us.—
Were you acquainted with him ?"
`•I believe not," was the answer. '
"Well, he was a fine man, and many a
night have I laid awake and cried to
think that he would not he seen among
US no more forever. Yet, do you hear
any wailing and sobbing ? Does any
body care whether Andrew Jackson was
dead or lk ing ? You or 1 may be the
next to go, and the world will move on
just the same as if we had never lived."
"The w, , rld can't of course,stop for the
death of one man, no matter how great,"
said the merchant.
"That's what makes me feel Brd—that's
why I weep these tears I" answered the
man, wringing his long,peaked nose with
vigorous grief. "Willian Penn is dead.---
Once in a great while I hear some.me ex
press sorrow, but as a general thing the
world has forptten him poen the rest.—
Don't it make you feel sad when you re—
flect that you will n•-vor see him again ?
Don't it make you feel sad when you
think he has gone from among us ?" •
"I never have lime to think of these
thmgs," answered the merchant fondling
the coal stnve-shakhr.
"Ahti S•eakeepeare's gone too !" ex
ehoffled the man, his chin quivering with
:wit:Limn. "we may sigh, and sigh, and
10), and wish, and wish, and wish, but
poor Shaky will never be seen moving
among us again ! They have laid him
away to sleep his long sleep, and a bright
lamp has been extinguished forsver."
"Well, did you want anything iu the
line of hardware ?" asked the merchant,
as he rose.
Can ;you speak of hardware to me at
such a Lute as this ?" esclaimed the man.
"Knowing my sad feelings, seeing these
tears and listening to my broken voice,
can you have the heart to try and force
hardware upon me ?"
Toe merchant went over to hie desk,
and the man wrung his nose agate and
went out.
"You may say waist you darn please,"
said Bill kluggins, speaking of a deceased
conned ; "Jake was a good boy—he was
a great hunter ; but he was the thinnest
man that ever breached in the State, and
tie played one of the sharpest tricks you
ever heard of, and I'll tell you how it was.
-I was out shootin' with him one =ruin'.
tell . you the ducks , were plenty ; and
other game we despised so long as we
could see ducks. Jake be was too mean
to blaze away unless he could put down
two at three at• a shot.. Juke was often
blowiti' me for wastin' powder and shot
so ;
but I didn't care—l blazed away.—
Well, some how or Other, while. foam'
around the boat, my powder flask - fell ov
erboard in about sixteen feet of water,
which was as clear- as good gin, end, , : 1
could see the flask lay at the bottom.—
Jake being a good swimmer, and also a
diver, said he'd fetch her op, and in a
minit lie was In. • Well. 'I wasted quite a
considerable of time for him to come up;
then I looked over the other side for old
Jake. Good Jerusalem ! theie sat old
Jake on a pile of oyster shells, pourin'
the powder out of my flask into his'n.—
Wasn't that raean
Our old friend Nohbs, who emigrated
to Texas last winter bought a • farm, ay:
the first thing he does in the morning is
to take a squint down • into the orchard
"to see if there is any one hung - up on
the trees that •he . was ever acquainted
with?
TgRIAS :—Two Dollars Per Year in Advance.
gime fending.
THE BOBOLINK
Once, upon a golden afternoon,
With radiant laces and hearts In tune,
Two fond lovers, in dreaming mood,
Threaded a rural solitude.
Wholly happy, they only knew
That the earth was bright and the sky was
. blue.
That light and beauty, and joy and song
Charmed the way as they passed along ;
The air was fragrant with the woodland
scents,
The squirrel frisked on the roadside fence—
And hovering near them, "Cheq, chee,
chink ?"
Queried the curious bobolink.
Pausing and peering with sidelong head,
As saucily, questioning all they avid ;
While the oa•eye danced on the slender
stem
And all glaa nature rejoiced with them
Over the odorous fields were strown
Wilting winrows of grass new mown,
And rosy billows of clover bloom
Surged in the sunshine and breathed per
fume.
Swinging low on a slender limb,
The sparrow warbled his wedding hymn,
And balancing on a blackberry briar,
The bobolink sung with his heart on fire—
" Chink I if you want to kiss her, do !
Do it I do it ! You coward, you I
Kiss her ! kiss her ! Who will see ?
Only we three ! we three ! we three !"
Under garlands of drooping vines,
Through dim vistas of sweet-breathed pines,
Past wide meadow fields, lately mowed,
Wandered the indolent country road.
The lovers followed it, listening still,
And, loitering slowly, us lovers will,
Entered a gray roofed bridge that lay
Dusk and cool in their pleasant way.
Under its arch a smooth, brown stream,
Silently glided with glint and gleam,
Shaded by graceful elms which spread,
Their verdurous canopy overhead—
The stream so narrow, the boughs so wide,
They met and mingled across the tide,
Alders loved it, and seemed to keep
Patient watch as It lay asleep,
Mirroring clearly the trees and sky,
And the flitting form of the dragon ity—
Save where the swift-winged swallows
played,
In and out in the sun and shade.
And darting and circling in merry chase,
Dipped and dimpled its clear, dark face.
Fluttering lightly from brink to brink,
Followed the garrulous bobolink,
Rallying loudly with mirthful din,
The pair who lingered unseen within,
And when from the friendly bridge at last
Into the road beyond they paced,
Again beside them the tempter went
Keeping the threed of his argument—
Kiss tier! kiss her ! chink-a-Ghee-thee !
I'd not mention it ! Don't mind me !
I'll be sentinel—l can see
All around from this tall beach tree."
But all! they noted—nor deemed It strange—
In his rollicking chorus a trifling change—
"Do it ! do it !"—with might and main
Warbled the tell-tale--"do it again I"
It would be impossible to describe a single
ornament connected with which so much inter
est attaches as to the finger ring. It is of great
antiquity, and during centuries of years has
been associated with the most Important con
cerns of life, both in mawrs of ceremony and
affairs of the heart. It has been used as a means
of recognition, as v credential, and as a form of
introduction which ensured hospitality to the
bearer of ii. Royal edicts were promulgated
through its mediums, and power was transfer
red by its mean& When Pharaoh committed
Inc government of Egypt to Joseph, he took
his ring from his finger and gave it to the young
Israelite as a token of the authority be bestow
ed upon him. So also when Ahasuerus agreed
to Haman's cruel scheme of killing the Jews in
all the king's provinces, he took the ring off his
hand and gave it to Haman as his warmnt,and
afterwards directed that all official letters should
be sealed with his ring. A ring formerly mark
ed the rank and authority of a man, and tile
king's ring was as important a part of the iii•
signia of royalty as his sceptre or crown.
The form of the ring is emblaniatic of etern
ity, and its materials of pricelessness. Lovers
are united by a ring, and departed blends are
often kept ia remembrance by the same token
of affection. All these qualities sufficiently ex
plain the reason why In old tales and legends
the power of the ring is a fruitful source of In
terest. Among many different nations rings
' were used as charms and talismans against the
evil eye and demons, against debility, the po;iver
of the flames, and most of the ills inherent to
human nature.
In these days, inscriptions upon rings are
comparatively rare, but in old times they wore
common. It is supposed that the fashion of
ha% log mottoes, or "reasons," as they were call
ed, was of Roman origin,tor the young Romans
gave rings to their lady loves with the mottoes
cut on gems, such as, "Remember," "Good luck
to you," "Love me, and I will love thee." In
some cases, the stones are made to tell the mot
to by means of acrostics, or names are repre
sented. The Prince of Wales, on his marriage
to the Princess Alexandra, gave her, as a keep
er, one with stones set so as to represent his fa
miliar name of Bertle, as follows: B eryl, E
merald, It üby, T urquoise, I =lath, E merald.
Motto rings are quite popular in France, the
French haying precious stones for all the alpha
bet with the exception of t, k, q, y,and z. Rings
such as these, may be said to realize Shakes
peare'Vldea, put in the mouth of Jaques, of
finding "sermons in stones," tor here, indeed,
the truth is apparent, that stones do symbolize
the language of the heart: .
IMITATION
Whatever good udvice you may give your
children, if the parents pursue a bad and reck
less course of conduct,depond upon it the chit.
dren will fullostthe example instead of follow
ing the advice. They will turn out' ill, and
probably, worse than the parents whose exam
ple they ate imitating. There are few prinel.
pies of human nature stronger than that of, im
itation ; and where , children see a man - end a
wife qusrrellng, the mother dirty and the father
drunken, and the house uncomfortable, it Is not
in human nature possible that those children
Should be, the girls Clean And well conducted,
We eons sober, honest and industrious.
. _
Our most Indifferent acitone bavo .nn
'presa or tndivldonnty ; ire may convey an nn
preaslon not to be effaced for years by an tut!
coneldera word or geetura.
NUMBER, 18.
SUPPOSE YOU RAD A DAUGHTER.
Young men are constantly complaining of
the opposition which they encounter to their
matrimonial schemes from the parents of the
fair object of their , affections. They are very
much in love—so deeply, they generally assure
us, that it is impossible for them ever to get ov
er it but, cruel as it seems, the hearts of the
obdurate parents will not be moved to any
merciful consideration towards them.
When such opposition Is blind and unreason
ing, our sympathies are entirely with the young
men ; but, on the other hand, there are many
eases in which it is not strange that the consent
of parents should be withheld. The best way
to come to a proper understanding of this point
is to suppose that you had a (laughter of your
own ; to ask yourself what kind of a man you
would be willing she should marry; and then
to ask yourself it you are Just sucks Iran'?
What kind of a man would a father be will
ing that his daug'iter—the pot of the house
hold—the unwinged angel whom be trembles
to see grow,bccause he feels that every success
sive day carries her forward towards a mar
riageable age, when he may be obliged to loose
her—what sort of a man is the father of such a
child willing to see her married to ? Can any
huligan being he too good ? Is It possible for
any one fully to deserve her ? lie would fain
have some one—no matter how good he may
be--superior to himself, for he feels that the
darling child of his heart deserves a better.—
He cannot bear to think that even the "winds
of heaven should visit her cheek too roughly."
Let young men who are Impatient at any
questioning, and who grow furious at defined
opposition, think of these things, and the con
duct of fathers and mothers, in very many in
stances, will seem less unreasonable to them.
Every young man should lay down one rule
for himself : to examine his conduct, character,
and habits of life, and see to it thet no good
ground for opposition to him exists in any of
these. As to pecuniary circumstances, poverty
is not a crime—not , a fault, even, in the young
—and there is always the hope for an energetic
and industrious young man to better his cir
cumstances.
Let every ardent suitor suppose that ho has
a daughter of Ins own, and fully consider what
kind of a man he would be willing she should
marry.
THE WORST YET.
The baggage-man is the great American bets
zwir, but in the past his efforts have been chief
ly confined to smashing trunks and boxes, and
crushing the toes of passengers about railroad
stations. Michigan, however, has just produc
ed a baggage-man who surpassed himself by
spoiling a couple of funerals. The two towns
which may be denomitideftbout which
the eilects of this baggage-man's atrocity con
verged, were the towns of Flint and Mount
Morris. At each of these places a person late
ly lived, at Hoard, Morris a white man, and at
Flint one of the nation's late acquisition of new
voters, and each of the men lately died away
from home. The bodies were telegraphed for
and were received in due time by the mourners
at Flint and 'Mount Morris. At Flint the col
ored people had a grand funeral, at the close of
which the coffin was opened for a last look at
the dead brother. Then were the colored breth
ren scared. The negro had changed into a
straight-haired and full-blooded white man,and
the superstitious darkies were greatly alarmed
at the phenomenon. At Mount Morris very
nearly a similar scene was enacted. 'The
mourners at the funeral there saw a kinky-hair
ed and thick-lipped negro in place of their
friend, and were startled enough. Finally the
explanation came. The baggage-man on the
railroad had contrived somehow to change the
bodies, leaving the darkey where he should have
left the white man, rice versa ! That baggage
man is no longer on the same line of road.—
His unpopularity at the towns of Mount Mor
ris and Flint suddenly became such as,to inter
pose a bar to the prosecution of his line of bus
Mess in those localities.
AN OLD ADAGE
"Never cry for spilled milk," is an adage ven
erable for its age, and lull of wisdom, as appli
cable to a great many things'. It is necessary
to your happiness to bear with philosophic un
concern the unavoidable and almost innumera
ble little ills which beset every human path
way.
The wisdom of the maxim which we have
quoted, however, is incomplete unless it be
coupled with another, not usually laid down In
connection with it, which is this : "Don't spill
your milk." If the milk be spilled through
your fault, and you apply the maxim not to
cry for spilled milk, you simply stipplement
culpable negligence with a foolish'indifference.
When any evil or unhappiness befalls yon,
look calmly at the causes and Oees tdon of it,and
see whether more caution on yOnr part might
not have avoided them, and if yetf,Artd they
might, then he more careful to shun' the pro
ducing causes in the future.
It is not worth while to waste the precious
moments of this short life in idle regret. On
the other hand, it is not well to go on repeating
the follies from which one has already suffered
or renewing indiscretions which era sure ,to
bring renewed penalties.
WE ARE PAINED TO LEARN.
A Louisville reporter, having accummnlated
a fortune here, resolved to abandon city life,
with its glittering shams, and he went South,
where be got a :Atnation on a country. paper,—
The village being rather dull, he kad only sev
en or eight items when the week was about to
close, and one or two of these were Puffs of
turnips which had been loft at the office. They
were, however, well written, he thought,- and
he handed them to die editOr: — Air - each of the
turnip paragraphs came under the editorial eye
a smile of approval lit up the editorial counts'
mince, and continued to, light it until the last
of the Items was reached. Hero the editorial
visage underwent an awful change. Thu item
was about an accident that had happened to.a
well-known citizen. Reading Wover several
times, as if to gain time to , check the Indigna
tion which seemed to be boiling within him, he
turned upon the reporter. "Young, man;' ho
thundered, "your services are no longer requir
ed,; I can't have any man ahOut me that
dees'nt say at the beginning of his paragraphs,
"We are pained to learn? "—Courier ;hermit'
Why should we be more shy of repeating
Ourselves than the spring be tired of blossoms,
ur the night of stars? Nature never wearlea
of saying over her floral pater nosier. '
The world never keepa talth with the heart
that trusts It. Ita promltes. of happiness are
perpetually broken. Take. It -.for what It hi
worth, and set your affections oti what is worth
more..
=MEI