HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editoh and Pcblishkii.
ELK C 0 UN T Y THE REPUBLICAN PARTY.
Two Dollars pee Anstjm.
VOL. I.
RIDGWAY, PA., THURSDAY, MARCH 16, 1871.
NO. 3.
(TUB three: little chair.
They 'sat alone by the bright wood Are,
The gray-haired datne and aged sire,
Dreaming of days gone by ;
The tear-drops fell on each wrinkled cheek.
They both had thoughts they could not speak,
Ana encn neart nttcred a sign
For their sad and tearful eyes descried
Three little chairs placed side by side
Against the sitllnir-rooin wall :
Old-fashioned enough as there they stood,
Their seats of flag and their frames of wood,
With their backs so high and tall.
Then the sire shook bis silvery head,
And with trembling voice he gently said:
"Mother, these empty chairs 1
They bring ns such sad thoughts to-night,
We'll put them forever out of sight,
In the small, dark room np stairs 1"
Bat she answered: " Father, no, not yet,
For I look at them, and I forget
That the children are away ;
The boys come back, and our Mary, too,
With her apron on, of checkered blue.
And Bit here every day.
Johnny comes bark from the billows deep,
Willie wakes from his battle-Held sleep,
To say good night to me;
Mary's a wile and mother no more,
But a tired child whose playtime is o'er,
And comes to rest at my knee.
80 let them stand there, though empty now,
And every time when alone we bow
At the Father's throne to pray,
We'll ask to meet the children above,
In our Saviour's home of rest and love,
Where no child gocta away."
GRAY SKIES :
Anil How to Brighten Turin.
Seated together in a pleasant pirlor,
in the appointments of which everything
betokened oomfurt, not unmingled with
elegance, were two ladies. The younger,
-who had not reached the meridian of
life, bore in her rounded form, anil clas
sically regular features, evidences of
great youthful beauty, hallowed, rather
than dimmed, by the ten years that bad
passed since she was a bride, .But upon
those fair features there rested a shadow,
indefinable, yet plainly there ; the bright
eye bad a tinge ot melancholy mingling
with its most cheerful glance, and the
finely-chiseled mouth, beautiful in its
repose, looked as if it had forgotten how
to smile. Yet very fair appeared Lucy
Selwyn to the eye of her more advanced
companion, as they sat in that pleasant
parlor on the bright May morning 1
Mrs. Brown was possibly twenty years
older than her friend, but with one of
those bright cheery faces, that the hand
of age never robs of the light of a youth
ful spirit. Wrinkles there were, if you
should search for them crows'-feet
about the eyes, and deeper Hues grooved
in the broad forehead, but the cheerful
light that danced upon the whble coun
tenance so veiled them in beauty, that
few ever noted the footprints which the
years had left in passing.
At the faet of Mrs. Selwyn wag a pa
per ; she had been reading aloud from it
one of those fugitive pieces which come,
with their glimpses of domestic life, like
golden lessons to the heart. The piece
was headed " The Rift in the Cloud,'.'
and as she finished it, she had allowed
the paper to drop carelessly from her
hands, exclaiming, " Never were written
truer words than are those !" '.
There wag a tinge of bitterness in the
expression of these words that caused
.Mrs. Brown to look up from the work
on whioh she was engaged, when, in re-
' look ot inquiry, Mrs. Sel-
isre to you to listen
, Mrs. Brown,
Iks
fade
C X I
1
robeu
move beneath t
heart the sunlight is
" Open your heart to
cy," said Mrs. Brown, in a to
deepest affection " I am an old w
dow, and have, in my day, experience
aany changing skies the sunbright,
tbe stormy, yes, and the cold, dull gray,
as well and my experience may be able
to suggest a way of scattering the mists
that bide the sunbeams from your heart."
" Well," replied Lucy, taking up the
paper which had fallen at her feet,
tr a little sketch portrays lust what 1
have felt the unappreciated
. wite my husband never
. rd I am made to feel
deficient in almost
commenda-
of them
covet it
; for myself, but covS. V?eed,
. I no longer expeot h
"Lucy," said her
voice, " excuse me if I tell you
fault is your own. If you can bear
be truly dealt with, I will show you
whence the gray mists come, and a way
4o disperse them too."
" The fault is mine ! rod this from
you, Mrs. Brown ! But go on ; I will
listen dutifully."
'No, Lucy, I had better be silent
than have you listen in such a spirit ;
you have long proved my love, and
should know that I would not be un
kind, and yet the only way to help you
is one that may give you pain.".-
M Forgive my pettishness, ray dear
friend. I do know that your heart is
kindness itself, but I ant so wearied with
blame that my spirit rises against it,
however kindly meant."
"I have noticed it, Lucy; you love
your husband so well that you wish him
to be blind to every defect ; yon cannot
1 won of oOw jse
bear the expression of dissatisfaction.
but would delight in the approbation of
one so dear to you. I bis I know, but
your husband does not, for your conduct
to him is the reverse of what you expect
from him."
" No, Mrs. Brown, you do me wrong I"
" Do you ever praise your .husband 'f "
"Praise him I No; he. does not want
my praise. ...
" Do you never censure him ?" , .
" I do find fault, sometimes, but how
can I help it, when he is so unreasonable
as he often is r .
" You, then, withhold praise, and be
stow censure upon your husband ; these
things ot which you complain in him
make, you say; your home-skies gray
have you never thought that "the effect
might be the same on htm 7"
Receiving no reply, Mrs. Brown con
tinued : "During the month I have now
been under your roof, I have seldom
seen you hasten to meet your husband
on his return, as if his coming brought a
pleasure with it; I have noticed that
sometimes the first words he has heard
from the lips of his wife, after a whole
day of absence, have been fretful com
plainings. The children have been un
ruly, or the servants have been impu
dent your spirit nag been chafed by
these irritations, and he has been greeted
by s recital of your perplexities, on
reaching the home to which he had
lumen lor a respite irom anxiety.
" You are severe, Mrs. Brown I"
" You may deem me so, but I have
not yet done, sometimes, when Selwyn
has entered the house with a smile on
his face, and evident cheerfulness in his
heart, I have seen his manner, in a few
minutes, undergo a complete transform
ation ; from the sunlight he has passed
into tbe gray shadow. I can only sur
mise the reason, yet I think my suppo
sition is correct."
" Will you favor me with it i" was the
somewhat cold reply of Mrs. Selwyn, as
her triend hesitatingly paused.
" I will but, Lucy, I do it only in the
hope of removing its cause, and of re
storing to you the light which you say
has fled from your home; do not think
me unkind, tor only my love for vou
could induce me to assume so unwel
come a task. Now hear me. When Mr.
Selwyn enters his home, only to find
upon your face the expression of a sober
seriousness, amounting almost to sad
ness ; when his cheerful words are an
swered in a tone that speaks a dissatis
fied heart, his own feelings, however
buoyant and hopeful, sink under the in
fluence of that mental gloom. As sensi
tive as yourself, he feels the absence of
sympathy, and your manner, more than
your words, leads to tbe fear that you
are too much engrossed by considerations
of a selfish nature, to be able to sympa
thize with him.
" Mrs. Brown," said her hearer, rising
from her Beat, " I could have borne such
language from few others. If you are
correct, I am childish to expect my hus
band's praise 1" Here, overcome by the
feelings which had been so unsparingly
probed, Mrs. Bolwyn burst into tears,
and in the passionate gush of emotion,
was about to leave the room, when Mrs.
Brown gently, but firmly restrained her.
" Sit down, my dear Lucy, sit down,
or all I have said will harm, rather than
benefit you. You do indeed deserve
praise, but not for the things I have
named ; your domestic duties are nobly
performed ; your house is a pattern ot
neatness ; your diligenoe, your regard
for your husband's interests, your care
fulness of his comfort, so far as the ma
terial appointments of his house are
concerned, are worthy of all commenda
tion.
"But, if so, why do 1 never hear it
from Aw lips I"
" Because you discourage its express
ion ; if the words were springing to his
lips, one glance at the martyr-like ex
pression your features sometimes wear
would chill them there. The truth is,
Lucy, if your husband had no heart, he
would praise you ; he has a heart, and
therefore does not."
" You speak in enigmas, Mrs Gray !"
"You treat him as if you thought
that big well-kept home ought to satisfy
all his wishes ; he fuels that he should
receive more than this !"
"What more V
" Love the love of his own wifd !"
"Why, Mrs. Brown, do you suppose
he doubts that '("
" What reason has he to believe that
be retains it ? Once he could read your
affections in every act; it spoke from
your eyes, and was manifested in a
thousand little nameless attentions,
which, though insignificant in them
selves, win their way to tbe heart ; he
'mew that you loved him then I
" tie has no right to doubt it now I
, " I ask, again, what ground has he for
bblieving it except that you are his wife '
What you do for him may be the mere
performance of duty ; the peculiar of
hoes of love you have long since ceased
to tender, and he has ceased to expect
them ; it would be a surprise to him to
be met by you as you used to meet him
ere he became your husband."
This was a new phise of the subject to
Mrs. Selwyn; a faint light began to
dawn upon her, a dim suspicion that her
friend might, at least in part, be right ;
but how could the help it '( how could
she express what she did not feel?
This thought, flashing across her mind,
startled her. Had she, indeed, ceased
to love her husband t No ! Why, then,
did she not feel tbe game warm impulse
as of old t She began to be perplexed
and alarmed! Then her thoughts re
verted to the change in Mr. Selwyn ; he
was no longer what e had been so
solicitous for her comfort, so tender ot
her feelings, so deferential to her wishes
and there was a flush upon her cheek
as she replied " The change, Mrs.
Brown, has not been all upon one side."
" No," replied her friend, and were
I speaking to your husband, I should re
mind him of that ; and yet, to you I
must say, tbat had you, previous to the
time you won his heart, worn the'aspeot
whioh - is sow usual - with you, . Mr,
Selwyn would never have sought you us
a wife 1"
" And had he been then as he now is,
X would never have accepted him as a
husband," retorted Lucy, with spirit
"The fault," said Mrs. Brown, "is
mutual; it has had its origin in the
too common conviction tbat, atter mar
riagd, thoBe attentions whici are the inOBt
expressive tokens of love are unheeded ;
and by a fatal mistake, the qualities that
have awakened and lostered anecuon
cease to be exhibited, and the love which
was born of them begins to languish ;
the heart feels a want that is not met ;
pride restrains the tongue from speaking
. . h I 1 . r . 1 1. . 1
or SUOu leeungt, qui. tney are e&uiuium
in the manner ; it is not long ere the
coolness or petulance of one is reflected
in the carriage of the other ; and thus
step by step, a change proceeds, tbe re
sults of which are fatal to all happiness.
With you, Lucy, the change has not ad
vanced so far, but it has progressed till
the sunlight of your skies has faded
into gray let it proceed, and I can pre
dict for yon gloom that will Bh allow
your whole lite 1 Stop," said she, as
Mrs. Selwyn was about to interrupt her,
" hear mn through, and then act ag you
please. If you really wish for the sun
light which brightened your early wed
ded life, you may have it again 1 Meet
your husband, as of old, with a smile ;
let him see that his presence is a pleasure
to you ; make his home the brightest place
he finds ; let those attentions, which once
were so freely rendered, take the place
of querulous complainings in short,
let tbe effluence of a loving heart fill
your home with its brightness and its
beauty, and you will not wait long ere
the gray will brighten into golden light !"
" It would be in vain, Mrs. Brown,"
said Lucy, sadly ; " I believe that with
tbe inconsistency natural to man, Mr.
Selwyn has ceased to value that which
he posseses the very attentions that
were once a pleasure, would now be
wearisome to him."
" Lucy," replied her friend in an earn
est tone, " I speak confidently, for my
words are the result of experience. I
bad not been many years a wife before
I passed into the shadow that is now
enveloping your home; I have felt all
that you describe, and reasoned just as
you now do, and only for what appear
ed a chance event, but in which I now
see the band of a merciful God, I should
have wrecked my earthly happiness.
With me, tbe chauge had proceeded so
far, that I had ceased to hope for any
alteration, when one evening, in com
pany with my husband, I attended a
wedding-party ot two dear young
friends. They had just returned from
their bridal tour, aud never was hap
piness written in brighter characters
than upon those young faces I I stood
there, sad in heart, for I remembered
when I was gay as that fair young bride
as full of hope and joy ; and as I stood
a little apart Irom tbe company, 1 found
myself wondering whether she would
ever feel as I then felt I The white-haired
clergyman who a month before had
married them, was present. At a latter
period of the evening he stood near me,
in conversation with the bride ; a single
sentence that he addressed to her fell
upon my ears it was this: 1 Be care
ful very careful never allow the mere
duties of the wife to chill, or to conceal
tbe love of the bride.' I thought little
of it at the moment, but the words came
to me again, as I was busy in my own
home; I found myself wondering why
he should have spoken these words, and
what it was he meant by them ; and as
I pondered on them, there came to my
heart such a revelation of my own de
ficiencies as startled me ! All that I
have said to you, and far more, I thought
of myself. I saw that I had been self
ish and exacting, and that, while rend
ering the mere duties of a wife, I was
expecting, in return, the expression of
feelings which my own demeanor had
chilled. I then resolved tbat it should
be different; that I would again be to
iuy husband all that I once had been.
Pride said ' No, rather suffer on, than
court the affections ot your own hus
band 1 but reason, duty, and more
than all, my own yearning heart, soft
ened by the new light which had dawn
ed upon it, said, ' Yes.' I resolved, and
in tbe resolve of tbat hour the gray
skies already began to brighten, and I
felt sure that the sunlight would come I
You, who have been within my home,
know how completely I have succeeded."
" Can this, indeed, be so 1" exclaimed
Lucy, in astonishment ; " I had supposed
that yours was a home upon which no
shadow bad ever fallen ! O, how I have
wished that mine resembled it.
" You can make it so ; only be what
you ones was the same to your hus
band as before you called him yours
and you will find in bis heart a depth of
love and tenderness tbat will astonish
you."
Here tbe conversation was interrupt
ed, nor was it resumed until the follow
ing day, when Mrs. Brown, having com
pleted her visit to her friend, left for her
own happy home. Then a single al
lusion to the conversation of the previ
ous day was all she ventured, but as she
pressed a parting kiss upon the brow of
her friend, she whispered" Try it,
Lucy, you will, I know, but do not
stop half-way !"
A year had elapsed ere the next visit
of Mrs. Brown to the Selwyng was made.
It was evening when the carnage that
conveyed her drove up to the door.
lilad hearts and cbeertul voices wel
comed her. A merry group of child
ren was gathered around the centre-
table, which was strewn with games and
paintings. Mr. Belwyn held in his hand
a volume which he had just been read
ing aloud to the little party. The work
basket of Mrs. Selwyn, at the side of
her cushioned chair, showed how her
fingers had been engaged; and over all.
especially upon the faces of the parents,
there was an expression 01 such cheer
fulness, that Mrs. Brown felt assured
her prescription of the year before had
been tried, and not without success.
As Mrs. Belwyn was assisting to dis
robe her friend of her outer garments,
Mrs. Brown ventured a single question :
"Lucy, dearest, are tbe skies still gray ?"
" O, no I it is all sunlight now I" And
those white arms were wound. around
the form of her friend, and a shower of
kisses poured upon the hps which had
taught her the secret of transforming
gray to gold 1
SKETCHES BT A COSMOPOLITAN.
Artatocracv Bt a Discount.
One of the prominent features of the
market are the market produce wagons
that come in nightly from Long Island,
Jersey, and Westchester, laden with the
ohoicest vegetables, which, as is well
known, are grown to the greatest per
fection in those celebrated gardening
regiofis f asparagus, radishes, cauliflower,
pie-plant, celery, kale, cucumbers, peas,
etc, together with the finest specimens
of small fruits: currants, gooseberries,
cherries, plums, pears, eto. ; all for the
deleotation of the favored residents of
the Empire City ; and it is certainly as
tonishing to see the immense quantity
of fruits and vegetables required daily
to satisfy the rapacious maw of the insa
tiate monster. Although this particular
style of farming has its fluctuations, yet
in the main it is highly remunerative,
most of those engaged therein tor any
considerable time becoming wealthy and
prosperous. Tbey exhibit much taste
in the style of their wagons and teams,
the wagons, many of them, being built
in the neatest manner ; platform springs,
iron axles, and the bodies, which are
generally double decked, and have tre
mendous capacity for stowage, are got
ten up and finish td in a very superior
manner. Early in the evening they be
gin to arrive, rolling smoothly down
tbe various streets, and ranging them
selves side by side, close together, with
the back end toward the curb, the horses
being unhitched, and their heads turned
toward tbe wagon, where they are fur
nished with hay.
During the spring, summer, and au
tumn, all the streets in the vicinity ot
the market are thus lined on either side,
leaving only an open space in the centre
for travel. They occupy West, Wash
ington, and Greenwich streets from
Cortland to Canal, and are found in
every cross street, so that when in the
morning other vehicles begin to pour in
to take part in the business of the day,
the streets are entirely obstructed for
hours.
A TERFECT BLOCKADE.
Drivers are sitting on their boxes, or
standing on their trucks, looking at
each other and swearing all the oaths
known to the language, besides forcing
heavy contributions Irom other idioms
with which tbey are most familiar.
" Why don't you move on there ?" fa
cetiously inquires the specimen New
Yorker from his perch upon the top ot
a hotel coach, where he has been broil
ing for the last hour without moving an
inch ahead. You glance at the speaker,
and you see a representative man of bis
class, puffing away at a cigar as he
stretches lazily out on his box, said ci
gar being held at an angle of forty-five
degrees, or rather more. With the great
est coolness aud sang froid he merely
propounds the question to create a sen
sation. The Dutch grocer just ahead looks
round with supreme disgust (which is
all lost on the imperturbable Jehu), and
exclaims contemptuously, " Donder mit
blixen, what for shall I trive to? You
pe von great tthackass. Oh, rutin Cot,
mein Cot, I pe gone dead mit de heat. I
shall pe sun shtroke mit mine head."
"Arrah, be jabers," shouts the irre
pressible Celt on the truck ahead,
" hould aisy, me lad ; ye's can take no
harrum with so much lager under yer
jacket; it's only risin' up, it is, inter yer
hat. Wait till we have Misther U Don
ovan in the Board of Aldthermen, and
then, honey, we'll have an ordinance
passed for your own special conva
nience." "Sucre," mutters the French baker
from his neat cart labelled " Hot Rolls,"
for which his customers are likely to
wait in vain for that morning's break
fast. Down the Btreet the drivers are still
more demonstrative. Several have left
their teams and are having a social
game of fisticuff, the indulgence in which
pastime, by the by, seems necessary to
the existence of your regular New York
carman. The horses, meantime, are run
ning into and smashing up matters gen
erally, in emulation of their masters' ex
ample. Presently, however, a movement is
apparent down tbe street, the surging
mass gives way, the blockade is raised,
tbe impatient drivers urge their horses
to the right hand bide of the street, and
soon two living streams are flowing, one
on either side, one on their way np
town, the other down. We look for the
magician who has so soon and with such
comparative ease brought order out of
chaos, and we readily recognize the neat
blue uniform, brass buttous and badge
of office belonging to a member of the
Metropolitan police force, who, grim
and mud bespattered, passes hastily
through the crowd, ordering each team
into position by a mere wave of the
hand, and in a tew moments alter be ap
pears upon the scene, everything moves
along with as much regularity as is con
sistent with human life in general, and
city life in particular.
ant 1 am digressing again. The farm
ers do not drive in over night with any
expectation of selling their load before
morning as a general thing. They soon
retire to the various lodging houses in
tbe vicinity, leaving their property iu
care of a Bet of special watchmen, who,
for a nightly fee, guarantee its safety
until morning. One Nichols, from
Northport, Long Island, had charge of a
section in our immediate neighborhood.
A bluff- old fisherman was this same
Nichols, who had resided in such close
proximity to the Nutmeg State that he
Lad adopted all the peculiar pronuncia
tion and nasal twang that characterizes
the universal Yankee nation. When he
first came among us his style was so
"outre," and his drawling, sententious
speeches so provocative of laughter, that
he was unmercifully quizzed, all of
which he took with the greatest good
nature ; but he proved to have such a
vein of humor, and withal such a kindly
heart, added to a great fund of anec
dote, which he dispensed in his inimita
ble manner, tbat he was soon unani
mously voted a " brick," and received
into the brotherhood as a valuable acquisition.
As I neared Nichols's post ono night,
I saw him dodging about under tbe
wagons in a high state of excitement.
' What's np, Niohols?" said I.
" Hush !" Baid he ; " come and look at
this tarnal critter a stealin' of old Schnei
der's hoss."
I crept carefully to his side, and true
enough, there was a man stripping off
the harness, whioh he took great pains
to lay up on the wagon.
Said Nichols quietly, changing his
quid to the other cheek, " There's Butbin
ourious about that 'ere team. He can't
coax one of them nr hosses to leave
t'other."
And so it came to pass that as we
looked we saw the matter clearly de
monstrated. And surely that was a
comical horse thief. Atter laying off the
harness, which occupied about half an
hour, he began to examine the fine
points of the animal. He looked in his
mouth, rubbed down his legs, lifted up
his feet to examine his shoes ; then step
ping back a few paces, he apparently
wished to take in all the good points at
once.
Said Nichols in a whisper, " I reckon
he'll find considerable many good points
about that 'ere hoss, 'specially 'bout the
ribs."
It was perhaps as worthless an animal
as could be found in the Btreet.
At last, apparently satisfied as to its
intrinsic value, our hero essayed to
mount ; he made desperate efforts to get
astride the beast by grasping the mane,
and throwing himself in various atti
tudes, but all in vain ; finally clamber
ing upon a wagon he gave a heavy
lurch, and with one tremendous effort
he was on, and over, and there he lay
sprawling, muttering curses not loud
but deep. Soon, however, his attention
wag attracted by a loud guffaw from
Nichols, who could contain himself no
longer.
" I Bay, stranger, you're the darnedest
critter to overreach I've met with Bince
I've been in York. I'll bet high there's
nothing in Welch's circus ken tech a
candle to your performance."
Meantime we were walking up to our
man, who sat on the ground where he
hud fallen. He was a very gentlemanly
appearing fellow, young and handsome ;
and I thought I saw beneath his over
coat a glimpse of an undress navy uni
form. As to his nationality we were not
long in doubt, as he addressed Nichols :
"'Off are you, governor ' hand 'ow's
the missus, hand the little kids hat
ome'f"
" No triflin'," said Nichols ; " when I
get really riled, I haint the pleasantest
chap to deal with. What on airth was
you tryin' for to do with this hoss '"
" Hi don't call that hanimal an 'orse,
but han bass. Blast my buttons, but
he'g halmost broke my' harm, and
smashed my figure-'ead. Hi don't want
to go aloft again in that crazy 'ulk."
Nichols eyed him with a quizzical ex
pression for a moment, and then broke
out:
" Waal, stranger, you're the darnedest,
oncommonest specimen of a horse-thief
that it's been my fortune to set eyes on
lately. Mebbe you would be kind
enough to tell us what you was goin' to
do with this 'ere animal, ef you could
hev stayed on hig back '"
" Honly a bit of a lark. Hi come ho
ver with the lads to 'ave a jolly go of it;
hevery one got drunk but me, and some
where they lost me ; thought I'd make a
night of it ; concluded to take a ride ;
deuced hextensive stud this chap has ;
who can hit be ' Most hextraordinary
cohincidence that I should 'ave met you
just as I was about to ride."
Looking towards the old market, that
loomed up in the darkness, he remarked :
" Devilish shabby 'ouse this chap has
that howns so many 'orses."
Nichols heard him out and then ex
claimed :
" Who in thunder are you, and what's
all this yer blowin' about ' Come along
with me, and we'll see about this bit of
a lark as you call it. Oh, come along ;
it's no use a-drawin' back ; when I once
get my grapplin' irons fast suthin's got
to come ;" at the same time Bhowing his
badge of a special officer, without which
he would have no authority to make an
arrest.
With your true Briton's respect for
law, our man at onoe altered his tone.
" My dear sir, you don't happrehend
that I wanted to steal the hanimal 'i
No, no ; 'twas honly han hunfortunate
hincideut."
" Rayther vnortnit, I take it ; jest you
come on, and yeou can see how we look
on sech things."
Our friend was getting pretty well so
bered by this time, and evidently took
in tbe situation. Said he :
"I belong to the Navy, second lieu
tenant, H. B. M. Macedon.' "
I reckon you belong to me jest now,"
said Nichols, who was somewhat puz
zled ; " what on airth was you doin' here,
anyhow r"
" Oh, bless your 'eart, the governor
took it in 'is 'ead that I was a-sowing
too many wild boats on the other side
tbe Hatlantic, and sent me over for my
'ealth. I beg pardon, sir. I hexpect I
hacted foolish, but I am no thief." Say
ing which he displayed his uniform.
At my suggestion, Nichols was about
to dismiss him, when, in an evil mo
ment, old Schneider made his appear
ance, accompanied by Mike Doole, an
Irish carrier well known on the Btreet.
The Dutchman was in a high state ot
excitement as soon as he understood the
matter. " Mein Got in himmel," said
he to the Englishman, "you shall pe
prought mit de benidentiary for die, you
tundther wedder Shonny Pull."
" Ocb, thin, watchman dear, ye'll sure
ly be afther takin' the miserable thafe
to the station, an' hould him- till Judge
Brannan sits." . - - -
Said Nichols, " I rayther think I'll let
him go, and ef I do it's my affair."
Mike was disappointed; the national
prejudice was strong. The -Dutchman
was furious.
" Och, thin, begorra," says Mike, " it's
compoundin' a felony they are ; if ye'll
take my advice, (Schneider, ye 11 jist ar
rest the pair of 'em."
H Who is this fellow ?" said our officer,
with some hauteur.
Mike was at once full of fight.
" Och, thin, be the howly poker, I'll
mash the head of ye, ye bloody thavin
blagguard; the like of ye'll not be
tramplin on us here ; hooray for ould
Ireland, Erin go Bragh."
The upshot of tbe matter was that
Mike raised such a hubbub among the
Irish in the street that we were obliged
to take our man to the station, where he
proved to Captain Halpin's satisfaction
that he wag not only second lieutenant
of IL B. M. " Macedon," but that he
was son of Sir John Esthaven, conse
quently an aristocrat, and, like Ciesar's
wife, " above suspicion." L. R. T.
Sensible Views abuut Marriage.
Tbe Chicago Times thus condenses its
report of a sermon delivered in that city
by Rev. Robert Collyer, on the Bubject of
" Marriage." He said :
It was wrong to call marriage a lot
tery. He would believe that of most any
occupation, but nothing was surer than
tbat a good man or woman could find
a good woman or man. God would help
those who help themselves. It was a
lottery to those who determined it should
be a speculation. God did not leave the
glory and joy of lite to mere chance.
Every man was sure of a good wife if he
would give diligence to make his calling
and election Bure. Very little money
was needful if they had some other
things that it could never buy. Be
would not cry money down, and had lit
tle respect for those ministers who did
so, for they took all the salary they could
fut, and would break tender ties for " a
ivine call" that they could not resist.
" Love of money" was the root of all evil.
An old farmer told him that it would be
well to marry a woman who had money
if be could love her ; but that it should
not be one of the considerations. It was
not true that when poverty came in at
the door love jumped out of the window
passion might, fancy might, but love
would not, and never did. That Cupid
that sprang out of the Window came
from Venus, the old heathen goddess.
The angel of God would watch over true
love in the cottage and aid the man who
tried to make $10 go as far as $20 ought
to, and make a crust taste better than a
pound-cake.
He wanted a frankness to exist be
tween the parties before they came to
him. There was a sort of semi-deception
practiced by lovers on each other.
They seldom appear as they really are.
Country marriages were apt to turn out
better than those of the city, as the par
ties knew eac'i other in all their peculi
arities. But in Chicago all was chang
ed. He then briefly described a court
ship, showing that it was a game of
cards ; both were anxious not to reveal
their hands ; both intended to cheat,
and when they got married they both
found it out. Tbe deceptions were spec
ified and denounced, lor young men and
women should come to a simple under
standing, for it would cost something to
show the temper after marriage, while it
would cost but little if shown before
marriage. A winning face and pleasing
form counted more with most young peo
ple than the sweetest graces of the soul,
and it often turned out that a great mis
take had been made; though beauty
might often accompany great goodness.
Some of the worst cases that had come
under his observation were where the
man had married for beauty and the wo
man because he was six feet one, had
black whiskers, etc. Marriage was a
religious duty, though not commanded
it was rather a divine fact; and he
liked the Quakers who Baid, when about
to be married, " We have been moved to
do this by tbe Holy Spirit." Men and
women were often brought together by
something that they could not account
for. He related the story of a single
man who on the Pacific, saw a face and
discovered that it was his wife, and he
married her seven years afterward in
Philadelphia, and there was never a
happier couple in the world ; and that
woman told him that she had seen her
husband at the same time, and said to
herself, " That is the homeliest face I
ever saw." All true marriages were
made in Heaven, but there must be a
conviction that they are made above,
and not by the mother or father, etc., on
earth.
He gave it as his opinion tbat the
greater portion of the human beings
who become husband and wife find
themselves rightly married. Tbey sel
dom married the ideal, and there were
often times when they could not see
alike, and there would be trials of faith
in each other, and sometimes a doubt,
and no man had a right to get married
without expecting such things. Mar
ried life had more burdens and also more
happiness. The sweetest wife in this
world has said things to her husband
that she would not allow anybody else to
say, and the best husband sometimes
might sav things that if anvbodv else
had said he would leap at him like a
leopard. Among the ousts to pay were
patience, forbearance, mutual giving and
taking, no treasuring up of sharp words.
and the sun should never be allowed to
rise on the wrath.
Singular Medical Facts.
To show how little lung a person mav
live on, Dr. Nicholson says : " I know a
young man enjoying good health, and is
comparatively strong, who has not more
than two-thirds of a lung. . He lost his
left lung from the effects of a gunshot
wound received at the battle of Shiloh.
The ball entered the shoulder blade and
lodged in the top of the lung. Dr,
Guild, of Tuscaloosa, Alabama, an emi
nent surgeon, attended him two or three
months at the outset. He finally came
under my care. I had charge of him
several months until he was well. He
lost all his left lung, and maybe a little
more tha'n the lower lobe of tbe right
lung. No mortal ever came near dying
surely than he. From a skeleton he
picked up flesh, commenced the business
of a merchant, got' married, and has had
some children.. -
A widower in Twrro." Tf .iiita. Tnrifnnk.
offers to marry any young, amiable,
beautiful, and accomplished girl who
will take care of his house, keep his chil-
uren ciean, ana let mm aione.
MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS. !
A clarionet, cornet and flute have been
introduced into the choir' of the Congre
gational church at Waupun, Wisconsin.
To cure sore throat, take the whites
of two eggs and beat them in with twO
spoonfuls "of white sugar; grate in a
little nutmeg, and then add a pint of
lukewarm water; stir well and drink
often. Repeat the prescription, if neces
sary, and it will cure the most obstinate
cases of hoarseness in a short time.
Bees are exceedingly susceptible of at-
mospherio changes ; even the passage of
a heavy cloud over . the sun will drive
them home; and if an easterly wind
prevail, however fine the weather may
otherwise be, they have a sort of rheu-
matio abhorrence of its influences, and
abide at home. The cause would seem
to be the deficiency of electricity in the
r. . . .
At New Bedford there are now lying
thirty-five vessels whose legitimate ob
ject is the pursuit and capture of whales,
and which now should be preparing to
set Bail for adventure. Nevertheless,
tbey are all in .the most dreamy state of
inanition. There is a large stock of oil
on hand, the price of.it islow, and there
fore merchants will not fit out the ves
sels or hire men. - . .
Rev. Dr. Deems, in the course of his
remarks at the funeral of Alice Cary,
said : " Men loved Alice Cary, and women
loved her. When a man loves woman.
it is of nature ; when a woman loves a
woman, it is of grace of the grace that
woman makes by her loveliness ; and it
is one of the finest things that can be
gaid of Alice Cary, that she had such
troops of friends of her own sex."
It is Btated that during the siege of
Paris the method of making bread out of
the raw wheat was carried out with suc
cess. Under the usual system, it is
averred, 100 pounds of wheat yield 80
pounds ot nour, from which Hi pounds
of bread are made. Under the new
plan of using the unground wheat, 143
pounds of bread, it is estimated, can be
made out of 1U0 pounds 01 wheat.
Some men find life unendurable if
they cannot lay wagers. At Bingham
ton a favorite mode of winning "the
drinks " is for a sharper to bet with a
yokel tbat he can stand an egg on end
" right out on the floor," and the yokel
can t break it with a half-bushel mea
sure. The bet is taken and the fiend in
human shape puts the egg precisely in
the corner, and if you wish to know how
it is yourself, you would do well to try
tbe experiment.
A young man in Oswego, who started
to attend a masauerade party on Thurs
day, attired and accoutred as he supposed
satan usually is, unhappily entered the
wrong house, to the consteration of the
inmates. The old gentleman, father of
the family, especially, was greatly
alarmed, and with a wild shriek," Maria,
save the children I" he made his exit
through the rear door, closely followed
by Maria and all their little ones.
The new German empire, with Alsace
and Lorraine, will contain 40,148,209
inhabitants, and France, without ,hese
provinces, will have 36,428,543 inhabi
tants. United Germany will be the sec
ond nation in Europe in point of popu
lation, Kussia alone leading it. The
larger part of Kussia, however, is in
habited by a half-civilized people, and
it may be fairly stated that Germany,
numerically speaking, is at the head of
civilized nations. The census of 1880
will advance the United States to that
position.
The Indianapolis Sentinel tells a good
gtory of a railroad conductor who resides
in that city. In hig absence his wife
presented him with a fine boy. Some
of his wife's friends, who are of a wag
gish turn of mind, suggested that they
borrow two other bibies in the neigh
borhood, and present the three young
sters to their happy father on his re
turn. The plan was carried out, and.
upon the arrival of the train in the
evening, the young husband, who had
heard that all was well ; hurried home ;
after fondly kissing his wife, he asked
to see the little stranger. Imagine his
surprise on beholding three babies when
tbe coverlet was turned down. After
gizing at them in profound astonish
ment for several minutes, he turned to
his wife, and coolly asked, " Did any
get away '("
Criticism in the newspapers of the
West is peculiar. An Illinois paper thus
touches upon a member of the Legisla
ture : " Mr. Acker, the eminent horn-
swaggler, thrilled the House on Satur
day with one of his most majestio ef
forts, a short-horn reporter describes
the scene as indescribable. Ladiej on
tbe back seats were obliged to climb up
to the back of the chairs to esoape the
torrents of eloquence and things. The
speaker was so charged with the elec
tricity of eloquence that his sharply
pointed spike tail coat frequently stood
at an angle of sixty degrees and trem
bled like an aspen. The orator most of
the time resembled an irresponsible vio
tim in galvanio slippers. He roared,
and plunged, and squealed like three
hundred pounds of petticoats on her first
pair of skates."
Out in Chester county, N. C, lately,
a clock peddler was tramping along,
hot, dusty, and tired, when he came to a
meeting-houBe wherein sundry Friends
were engaged In silent devotion.- The
peripatetic tradesman thought he would
walk in and rest. . He took a seat upon
a bench, doffed his hat, and placed his
clocks upon the floor. . There was a
painful stillness in the meeting-house,
whioh was broken by one of the clocks,
which commenced striking furiously.
The peddler was ' in' an 'agony, but be
hoped every .minute, tha. clnf.k would
stop. Instead of that it struck just four
hundred and thirty times by the aeiual
count 'of every friend in the meeting,
for the best disciplined of them couldn t
help numbering the strokes." Then up
rose Joiie ' of 'the Friends, at the mt of
the four -hundred and thirtieth stroke,
and said Y - Friend, "asTt ia'so'very Tate,
perhaps thee had better proceed on thy
journey, or thee will not reach thy des
tination unless thee is as as energetic aa
tby vehement time-piece."