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""V.
IIKMIY A. lAltSOS, Jr., Editor and Publisher.
ELK COUNTY-THE REPUBLICAN PAHTY,
Two lollar per Annum.
VOLUME III.
KIDGWAY, PA., THURSDAY, MAY 8, 1873.
NUMBER 10
Miscellaneous Selections.
' BLOWN VP.
1IY THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH.
Take ve ndd move me ciisy, boys, nnd let the
iloctoriee
Ft)VsT.-c'j'nyusctotry and pntch what little's
. Jf me.
Tliemr-that'll do. It's all no use t see It in
your eye.
ion needn't pnrso your mouth Hint way Van
ulen's got to (lie)
And if there really be no chance to save a fel
... low's life
cll, well! the blast was quite enough, nnd we'll
excuse the knife.
Just loose my collar gently, bovs, It liurto me
uslliej
Put somethinx underneath my head don't raise
me unite so high)
And let me have some water Ah-h! I tell vou.
that's the stuff
It beats old rye I ought to know I've surely
drunk enough .
lou'll say whatever were my f'lults, to say the
thing Hint's right,
Ihat Jim Van Valin never shirked his liquor or
a light.
The circuit-rider? What's the use? I hardly
think one prnyer,
However long, has power enough my whole ac
count to square t
And ut the day of judgment, when the world Its
work is through,
And all the miners round about account for what
they do,
The Lord above, who knows nil things, will be as
just to mo
And merciful at all events, with Him I'll let
it be.
.Somehow my mind goes backward, boys, tomanv
years ago,
o the valley of the Overprock, nnd the farm
house long and low.
When I wandered on Hie Palisades to gather Tinx
ter blooin,
And, mixed with lilncs, mother placed them In
our sitting-room.
I see them in the lire-place, in that pitoher white
and high
What queer things come ncoss the mind, when
one's about to die!
Why, I can see the orchard, boys, upon the side
ling hill:
The place I Ashed for killles in the crooked Pel-
lum Kill;
The deep hole where the pickerel lay the rascal
long and lank,
I caught him with a nooso of wire, and snaked
him on the bank;
The places in the meadow where. I went to trap
the minki
The mill-pond by the roadside where I drove the
cows to drink.
And there was little Kitty, boys, her house was
close to ours,
The gardens almost Joined, but she was prettier
than the (lowers.
Wc went to school in winter-time upon the Tin-
eek road,
And when I put her books with mine it s,cemed
to ease the load;
lint when we both grew up, somehow I wasn't
quite so near
.She married Peter Brinkcrhoff and thut is why
I'm here.
There was my good old father, boys, Willi stern
and nursed brow
I used to think him hard on mo
I know him bet-
ter now i
And, then, mv dear old mother, with that pleas
ant smiie of here
0 what a gush of tenderness the thought within
me stirs 1
Come father, raise me in your arms; and, moth
er, stroke my brow
Your hand is cool what odd conceit! they're
neither living now.
They're gone, the old Vnn Valens, boys there's
no one left but me,
And 1 am going too nnd so 1 send no word, you
see.
The boys I used to play with, and the girls I used
to know,
Grown up to men and women, have forgot me
loug ago!
I'venot been to Itergen County now for many and
niunv a day,
And no one there would care to hear what I might
have to say.
1 ilnd I'm getting weaker, boys, my eyes are
growing dim!
There's something dancing in the air; my head
besins to swim.
Water! That's good! that stirs me up I that gives
me life again I
You talk about your dead men why, I'm just as
good as ten.
There's something heavy on my breast you take
the thing away
Mother! there's Kiltv Demarest may I go out
to play? Scribner't fur May.
WIDOW M'BRIDE.
Farmer Prindle was a widower, lie
lived si'l nlono in the old farm house that
had been his lather's ami his grand-father's
before him, and how lie lived there no
body knew. Farmer Prindle was not
hospitable; since hi3 wife had died live
years come next November not a human
soul or body had been allowed to enter
the house of mourning. But if lie was
not hospitable, he was very sociable ; not
because he cared much for the society of
his fellow-creatures, but because he wanted
to grumble; and, as every one knows,
good grumbling requires company.
Every pleasant evening Farmer Prindle
visited some of his neighbors, and favored
them with his views ol life. These views
were gloomy in nature and stern in ex
pression. He could take up any bright
subject and blacken it with one look.
Snnahliifi was a delusion and a snare;
flowers were an emblem of man's frailty ;
and a baby was a poor unfortunate little
sinner, who didn't know what was before
Viim
True as were these remarks, they were
not encouraging, and his neighbors got a
little tired of his philosophy. ,
4t vii hml hotter o-et married again: it
will cluer you up a little," suggested a
kind, motherly woman.
Farmer Prindle shook his head discon
solately. "No, I'll never do that. I have
had one good wife, and that's enough lor
me. Marriage ami sucu a iiimiui eiic.
either, when vou look at it seriously. Ant
if tr. wfi-n't cheerful with the best ol
women, as my Lizzie was, what would it
li with one as wasn't so good? Answer
that. Mrs. Crane."
It was a dilHcult question to answer
logically. But Mrs. Crane was ignorant
ol logic. " It is kind ot lonesome lor a
man to be all alone in a rambling old
house," she said, pityingly. "And the
Bible says so, too, you know," she added,
trvino- to fortifv her position.
Farmer Prindle smiled grimly. "Maybe
an. But it is better to be lonesome than
Eestered, and there ain't a woman round
ere as is worthy to tie on my Lizzie's
shoes, anyhow."
"There's Widow M'Bride ; she is a nice,
smart little bodv. and "
"Widow M'Bride! she! I wouldn't have
her for her weight in gold?" thundered
Farmer Prindle.
'I ain't so sure as she would have you,
cither; there's plenty after her quite as
good as you oe."
Widow M'Bride !" repeated the farmer,
"To think of her comparing herself to my
Lizzie ! That beats all I ever heard in my
The truth was that It didn't "beat" any
thna. for Widow Murute nau never
dreamed of comparing herself to his Liz
lie. Had she done so, tne comparison
would have been entirely to her own ad
vanta"e. Mrs. Prindle was tall, thin, sad,
und meek almost to insanity. Mrs.
M'Bride was short, plump, and jolly, al
most to levity, and had, besides, a very
pretty will of her own. She had been a
widow ten years, and during this period
she had allowed several devoted suitors to
console her and to lead her almost to the
brink of matrimony. But having reach
ed that point, she had always retreated,
remembering, just in time, that " her
heart was buried in the grave of John
M'Bride." , ,
The literal truth of this assertion need
not be discussed here; a strict adherence
to facts will be sufllclcnt. And the facts
wore, that Mrs. M'Bride liked to bo con
soled ; that she was rich, and liked to
spend her money herself; that mourning
was extremely Becoming to ner ; nnu
finally, that she considered herself vounsr
enough to wait and choose, beinsr. ns slm
alllrnied, "between thirty and forty."
uy marrying again she woum have de
prived herself of consolation, and would
have been obliged to give up that bewitch
ing widow's can. "And I will never Hn
that, never !" Tims vowed Widow M'Bride
in her sorrow.
But Farmer Prindle was isrnorant of
that vow, and In his Ignorance he grew
wrathy as he thought of the pretty
widow, nnd as he passed her house that
night he silently called her by a peculiar
name that would rhyme very well with
" evil" in poetry, but cannot bo mention
ed in prose. Having thus relieved his
mind, anu made room tor plcasanter
thoughts, he paid a tribute to his wife's
virtues, nnd remembered all she had done,
without the least reference to what she
had left undone.
l et. alas ! it mustbeconfessed that dur-
ing Mrs. Prindle's lifetime what she had
lelt undone had been uppermost in her
lord's mind, and not in his mind onlv. but
also in his heart and in his speech. Hard
work, sour looks, unkind words, had been
her earthly portion, and she had carried
Into practice her husband's theory that
uus worm is a vate 01 tears."
Mr. Prindle was not a bad man. and his
wife was " the best of women." as he was
in the habit of savins. why. then, had
they not been happy togethei ? Because
Mr. Prindle had made a great mistake :
not being himself the best of men, the
best of women had been too much for
him. Her meekness had made hiin hard.
her obedience had made him impatient.
and her tears had made him angry.
" Ana it it was sowitn her. what would
it be with another?" he asked himself.
solemnly. " No, no ! no Widow M'Bride
forme!" Perhaps he was right. But
why lie so fervently objected to the widow
remains an open question ; for he met her
but seldom, and on these occasions she
did not pay the least attention to him, nor
had she at any time annoyed or molested
him by her smiles.
it so happened that, the very next day,
Mrs. Crane, wishing to make griddle-
cakes for supper, went to Mrs. M Bride's
to borrow some buttermilk, "if so be she
had any to spare."
It so was that Mrs. 31 Brule could snare
some, and welcome. Then Mrs. Crane sat
down to have a talk, a thing which most
women can always "spare" and welcome
too.
Having mentioned this, that, and the
other, they finally alighted upon Mr.
Prindle's devoted head.
'How would vou like him for a hus
band'?'' asked Mrs. Crane.
Me'? that old man !" laughed Widow
M'Bride.
" Ho ain't so old, either ; he ain't turned
fifty yet ; nnd he has got a nice place, and
no children, nor nothing to bother."
That's
true ; but somehow I don't
fancv him :
I he is a hard man. And then
much work to be done on a
there's so
farm."
I guess there's no more work nnv-
where than a woman has a mind to do.
You would know how to manage him.
and get along with him. All men are
hard enough. 'for that matter: vet it is
kind of nice to have one in the house."
" But, my dear Mrs. Crane, I don't want
a man in m y house. I h ire men !"
" Maggie M'Bride! And vou a-tlirting
like mad !"
I never flirt," said the widow, with
awful dignity. " You know I don't : and
I is my weeds yet! And as for Mr. Prin
dle 1 wouldn't have him for his weight
in gold."
l hem's tne very words no said aoour,
you no later than last night," said Mrs.
Crane, throwing prudence to the winds.
'"Widow M'Bride!' said he, 4 1 wouldn't
have her for her weight in gold.' Them's
his very words, as true as I live."
"Good land! Did I ever-?" exclaimed
the widow. " No, I never did hear the
like of that. Not want me! Did you
ever ! Well, I don't want him wouldn't
touch him with a pair of tongs! Wo we
are even, you see."
Mrs. craife departed, not entirely in
peace. "1 wish i hadn t said it," sue
thought. But she had said it, and it must
remain said lorever.
So thought Widow
M'Bride, as she
retreating form.
You won't come
And as for that
watched Mrs. Crane's
" You horrid creature,
here again, in a hurry,
old man I declare !"
Then suddenly a
smile shone In her black eyes, and spread
it i . f .'I! i i i i . i . . . i
an over ner lace, nil Biie laugueu niuuu.
" les, l will do it see n l don't:" sne
said, shaking her plump little list in the
direction of Farmer Prindle's "place."
rue next day, about noon, Mrs. M'Bride
went to the bank with a fifty-dollar bill in
her pocket. " Will vou have the kind
ness to change this bill for me?" 6he ask
ed Mr. Plum, in the most business-like
manner.
" With the greatest pleasure," answer
ed Mr. Plum. " How will you have it?"
" In fives and tens, if you please." And
as she said so, the widow looked up at
him with a smile that was not at all busi
ness-like in itself, nor In its effect. Mr.
Plum grew slightly rosy about the cheeks,
and decidedly sweet about the eyes.
"It is a pleasant day," he remarked.
Then looking at the clock, and seeing that
It wanted live minutes to twelve, he sud
denly remembered that his landlady wish
ed him to be punctual. " I believe I am
going your way," he added, taking up his
hat hurriedly, " and if you will allow
me "
" Certainly," said Mrs. McBride. She
knew as well as he did that Elm street
and Pine street were as far apart as two
streets can well be; nevertheless Mr.
Plum's remark was perfectly true he was
going her way.
As good luck would have It, whom
should they meet at the corner of Elm
street but that odious Mr. Prindle ! At
that moment Mrs. M'Bride was so deeply
interested in Mr. Plum's conversation that
she did not see Mr. Prindle. This made
the farmer angry, for he had prepared his
shortest nod and his sourest look for her
special delectation, and he felt that he was
defeated. Mrs. m unite ieiu mat, sue was
victorious so far, for she had prepared the
meeting.
Arrived at her own gate, the widow
said, gratefully, " I will not ask you to
come in now, but I am always at home
in the even'ng, and glad to 6ee my
friends."
Mr. Plum looked delighted, said he
would be very happy, and actually took
off his hat when he bowed himself away
an act of politeness seldom performed
in Appletown, the creed of the Apple
townians in this matter being that '"a man
is as good as a woman any day, and what
was the use of bowing and scraping, any
way? Why, It would wear out a hat in
no time !" And when truth, reason and
economy combine to make things easy and
comfortable,' who would dare to com
plain r
Let no one take a wronar view of Widow
M'Bride. As she had told Mrs Crane, she
never flirted not consciously. Never in
her life had she thrown a broadside glance
at a man, or smiled at him too encourag
ingly. " Courting is man's work," she
used to say. And there was something
about her that helped men to do that
work willingly, if not successfully.
With regard to young men, the fair
widow considered herscll in the lisrht of a
benevolent institution. In the evening
her house was open to ns many of them
as chose to come to It, nnd she welcomed
them cheerfully. It was one of her hos
pitable ways that, precisely at nine
o'clock, tea was brought In, accompanied
by golden wnfers, brown crullers, and
red-checked apples, which were partaken
of In the most unceremonious manner.
While they tasted the cup that cheers,
stories, riddles, nnd witty anecdotes
abounded ; and how well th'o widow lis
tened ! how prettily she laughed !
Some of Mrs. M'iJrido's female friends
had remonstrated as female friends will
but she had smiled at their wisdom.
"Dear boys! they know I don't Intend
to marry them, and they feel perfectly
safe. It only keeps them out of mischief."
And that was why she called herself "the
providence of young men."
Hitherto she had neglected Mr. Plum.
He had lately come from a large town to
fill the position of cashier in the Apple
town bank, and It was snid that "he didn't
think much of country folks." To bash
ful young men Mrs. M'Bride was as ten
der as a mother ; but pride was not to her
taste, and she had been rather cool to Mr.
Plum. However, at the beginning of her
campaign lie seemed to be exactly the
man sue needed to carry war into the
enemy's camp.
Mr. flum was in everything the oppo
site of Farmer Prindle. lie was a "city
man," with city manners and language ;
he was handsome, too, with black eyes,
black hair, and the blackest moustache in
Appletown. It was not the style ot beau
ty that Mrs. M'Bride admired ; but then.
as she said to herself, "that horrid old
thing will think he is an Apollo."
Mrs. M'Bride was right there. The
horrid old thing," Peter Prindle by
name, did think that Mr. Plum was "a
handsome puppy all hairand no brains."
Mr. Prindle was rather bald, and prided
himself on his brains ; and immediately
after that meeting on Elm street he began
to despise Mr. num.
In a lnvrrn tnu'n fur nwnv HinrA llvril a
sweet iittTc girl who honestly believed
that Mr. Plum was "too good for this
world," certainly too good for her ; yet
he had vowed that he loved her. But
thev were poor, and they must wait.
While he waited Mr. i'lum led a very en
durable life, and once a week he wrote to
his love, telling her how lonely he was
without her. Mrs. M'Bride knew noth
ing of the little girl, but had she known,
it would have made no difference in her
plans, for she considered Mr. Plum much
too young to fall in love with her.
This little war of the "weight in gold"
began in May, and during the following
summer Mr. Plum's devotion to Widow
M'Bride was the general topic of conver
sation. "Did you ever !" said the women,
forgetting what they had seen before.
"She's hooked him!" said the men, with
a knowing wink.
As for Mr. Prindle, he spent nearly all
his evenings at Mrs. Crane's, smoking his
pipe by the side of Mr. Crane, and freely
expressing his disapprobation of Mrs.
M'Bride's behavior. "It is a shame! and
she that's old enough to be his mother! It
is her money lie is after."
He had said this so often that Mrs.
Crane got tired of it at last; and as she
had made up her llule quarrel witn the
widow, she determined to stand up for her
friend.
"And why should it be for her money?"
she a'ked. "She is good enough for any
man ; and as long as you don't want her
yourself, why don't you let her alone?"
"Of course" I don't want her," growled
the farmer.
"Oh, you needn't be afraid; she
wouldn't have you if you wanted her.
Whe:i I told her what you said about It "
Then Farmer Prindle got up, and stand
ing in the middle of the room, he forgot
his mother's teachings, and uttered pro-
f.me language I alter which he went away
without saying good-night, and did not re
turn for several weeks.
"And he was as mad ns mad can be !"
said Mrs. Crane to the widow, when sin
related that little incident to her.
"Men are so foolish," said Mrs. M'Bride,
complacently.
Accidents will happen, and an accident
happened to Mr. Prindle : he was invited
to a tea-party.
"I won't go," he said to himself. "Yes,
I will, too. Why shouldn't I? I ain't
afraid of her. if she does know. I meant
what I said, every word of it !"
So Mr. Prindle adorned himself and
went. He looked very well ' in his black
coat and clean shirt, but he did not know
it. In-the matter of good looks men are
either too vain or too modest, and Mr,
Prindle was a too modest man. .
Widow M'Bride was there in her-pret-
tiest "weeds," looking like a lull-blown
rose ia a bed of autumn flowers, for this
was a middle-aged tea-party, and she was
the youngest woman in the room. She
had made herself agreeable to the ladies.
as she always did ; but when the gentle
men came in she felt relieved, and soon
proposed a walk in the garden.
The proposition was accepted, and, by
some fateful chance, Mr. Prindle found
himself walking by the widow's side. At
first he felt rather sheepish. Although
he had meant what he had said, "every
word of it," lie could not help wishing he
had not said it. w as sne angry r ne won
dered.
Angry ? No summer sky could be more
softly serene than tne widow's lair brow.
crowued by the little white cloud she
called her "widow's cap." "I suppose
you have a great many flowers, in your
garden," she said, mildly.
"No ; I don't care much for flowers,"
said Mr. Prindle.
"Don't you? Hove them; I couldn't
live in the country if it was not for flowers
and trees and birds."
"Farm-work wouldn't suit your taste,
I guess."
" Not at all ; I should hate it so ! It
would make my hands so hard and
brown." And she gazed at two white
hands, on which dimples had taken the
place ot "Knuckles."
Mr. Prindle looked at the hands too,
"It would be a pity to spoil them by use
ful work, wouidn t it r" he said, not amia
bly.
"l ttiinK it would. A lady must nave
white hands, you know."
"And yet," said Mr. Prindle, speaking
almost angrily, "I knew a woman, the
best of women, who was as good as any
lady in the land, if she did milk the cows
and make her own butter and cheese. She
didn't think of her hands !"
"She must have been a saint," said the
widow, softly. " I hope she got her re
ward in this world. 1 am not like her."
"No, I shouldn't think you was I Farm
life wouldn't suit you, would it?" said
Mr. Prindle, revengefully.
" No Indeed 1 If I had my choice
would live in New York, or Paris, or Loa
don," said Mrs. M'Bride, trying to re
member which was the largest city in the
woriu. .
" Well, I think you have had your
choice, as far as a city man goes. Allow
me to congratulate you. Mrs. M'Bride."
" Congratulate me ! Upon what Mr,
Prindle?"
" People say Mr. Plum is to be the hap
py man,"
" The happy man I Oh, I see what you
mean ! I hope he will be happy, but not
as people say."
"And why not? If I may nsk."
" Oh, 3'es, you may ask ; it Is no secret.
Because, Mr. Prindle, I never intend to
marry again. Never ! Not if the Empe
ror of China himself should ask me !"
We all nurse an Ideal of some sort. It
appears that Mrs. M'Bride's Ideal was the
Emperor of China; and considering how
Impossible it was for that gentleman ever
to fall in love with her, she might have
been pardoned for confessing her weak
ness. But Mr. Prindle was not in a forgiving
mood. " You would make a tine empress,
wouldn't you?" he said, scornfully.
Fortunately tea was ready. The guests
were called in, nnd Mr. Prindle was di
rected to sit next to Mrs. M'Bride. He
tried to think that he disliked that ar
rangement, and yet he felt that he liked it
better than any other.
Mrs. M'Bride was as gracious as an era
press, and strictly agricultural in her con
versation. She was fond of apples of
brown russets especially and her apple
trees were not doing well ; she was think
ing of having some of them grafted. Did
Mr. Prindle know how it was to be done ?
Mr. Prindle kindly told her all he knew
about grafting, and still more kindly of
fered to come and look at the trees.
When it was time to go home, Mr.
Prindle, to his profound astonishment,
heard himself offering to escort Mrs.
M'Bride. The lady was so used to being
escorted that she was not astonished in
the least, but having to " hold up her
dress," she declined Mr. Prindle's arm,
and trotted independently by his side,
chatting merrily as she went.
"What a cheerful little thing she Is!"
thought Mr. Prindle, "and so pretty too !
She ain't so old, either not near so old as
my" Then he stoppod, and caned nim
8elf"a fool," and Mrs. Crane an old
something else.
The next day he came to look at Mrs.
M'Bride's apple-trees, and was politely
received, but jiot asked into the house, the
widow having met him at the gate. But
the trees must have been very interesting
trees, for he came several times to look at
them. At the end of a month his perse
verence was rewarded by a general invi
tation to "come in any time." And re
membering that Mrs. M'Bride was one ol
his neighbors, Mr. Prindle called upon
her once in a while. Gradually she
seemed to be the only neighbor he had.
tor he came almost every evening, and
never grumbled while he was. there ; so it
must nave improved ins temper.
One thing amused and puzzled tne
idow so she said nnd that was that
brown russets rained anonymoii'ly into
her house. "And they are so nice ! I
wonder who sends them !" Whoever sent
them would have been rewarded by seeing
the widow s white teetn otte into tneni.
Don't eat too many of tliem, boys," she
ouldsay; " the red apples are just as
good. These are mine, you know."
rne merry montnoi way nau reiurneu.
ookingoutof her window one afternoon,
Mrs. M'Bride beheld Farmer Prindle com
ing toward her house, dressed In his very
best black suit. And she looked, she
blushed, and her eves sparkled.
The blush and the sparkle had both dis
appeared, however, when she greeted Mr
Prindle and invited him to sit down.
No. thank vou, standing will do as
well. I will corue to lire point at onee
Mrs. M'Bride. will vou have me !"
Dear me I No, indeed; 1 won t nave
anybody."
" won't say no without nun King, i am
dreadfully in earnest about It as you
would know it you Knew an. '
" Then, Mr. Prindle, I am very sorry,
but I won't have you."
" Why not? isecause oi wnat i saiu t '
" Ob no, I didn't mind that in the least.
But there are reasons"
" What reasons ? Tell me."
" In the first place, you don't love me."
"Don't I?"
" You didn't say so."
"No, nor I won't say it, because you
know it."
That Is not the way, Mr. Prindle."
It is mv way and I can't change it.
Will you think about it?"
"No; it would be oi no use. i cannot
give up my weeds."
(. nr. io H'l .. t 'J' 1
ueeuiir n nut wetnio i
" I mean mv widow's cap. I will wear
it till I die."
Not if you are my wife, I can tell
you."
" But I don't want to be your wife.
Good-by, Mr. Prindle."
" Good-by. But 1 don't give it up ; i
will ask you again," said Mr. Prindle.
And he may not have been far from the
truth when lie had called himself a fool.
Precisely a week from that day Mr.
Prindle came again. " You may wear
the cap If you like," he said, meekly.
" inanK you. nut you are wasting
your time. Please don't think any more
about it."
Another week passed. " Will he come ?"
wondered the widow.
He came. "Now, Maggie, this is the
last time. 'Three times and out.' you
know. What shall It be yes or no?"
No, most decidedly !" said the obdur
ate widow.
Not if I say I love vou, as I didn't think
I could love?"
'Not if you say anything. I won't do it.
There!"
"Then I must leave the place. I couldn't
live here after this."
"And what would the farm do without
you?"
"i will sen it. i tion t mind mat."
"Take my advice, Mr. Prindle. and don't
do anything foolish. Go away for a little
while, li you iiKe, men come oacK and De
friends."
But Mr. Prindle wouldn't take the
widow's advice, and he would do some
thing foolish. So ho went away, and for
a whole month no one knew what had be'
come of him.
Mrs. M'Bride spent that time in several
frames of mind. She was glad, and she
was sorry ; it was a great pity, and yet it
was very silly, sue reaiiy missed Mr,
Prindle, and she felt sorry for him. "But
then 1 couldn't do it the idea !"
About this time another idea dawned
upon the widow's mind, and that Idea was
Mr. flum. She had been so accustomed
to deal with young men on philanthropic
principles that she was Blow to admit the
possibility of "such a dreadful thing." Yet
if a man's eyes mean anything when they
look unutterable things, then Mr. Plum's
eyes meant precisely "such a dreadful
thing."
Mrs. M'Bride felt that an evil day was
coming, and ft she was powerless to
ward it on. coolness did not cool Mr,
Plum, and she certainly could not "speak
first." Then came the bitter thought. "It
is my money he wants !" whereas she well
knew that Mr. Prindle's love naa nothing
to d with her money.
Yes, it was her money Mr. Plum want
ed ; but he was perfectly willing to take
her with it. He had reflected much on the
subject. On one side was love and a sal
ary of. six hundred dollars a small fence
to keep off the wolf from the door. On
the other side was Mrs. M'Bride and
well, why not?
It was to have this question answered
that he came one evening. The widow
was alone, and Mr. Plum taking the tide
of his affairs at the flood, rushed! at once
Into melting eloquence. But fortune re
fused to smile upon him. Mr. Plum per
severed : he stated his case part of it
in glowing language ; all in vain. Then
Mr. Plum forgot his manners, nnd asked
" why had he been led on to hope?"
Poor sinful Hi tie widow! she had a hard
time of it. But she stood firm, and ex
plained matters very clearly also In part.
She was just In the middle of her closing
argument when the door-bell rang with a
peal that startled her. A sudden convic
tion (lashed into her mind that Mr. Prin
dle had returned, and was waiting at her
door. Not for the world would she be
found by him alone with that angry, red
faced man !
With the energy of despair she turned
to Mr. Plum and whispered, " You must
go away at once." She led him through
the sitting-room Into the kitchen, opened
the door, and locked it after him. Then
she went to the front door.
No Mr. Prindle was there ; only a boy
with a yellow letter in his hand. " It is a
dispatch for you, ma'am," he said.
Mrs. M'Bride took It. Who was It
from? Had anything happened to any
body ? And with trembling lingers she
opeiied the envelop.
It was only a business communication,
alter all :
' ' I have a good offer for my farm . Shall I sell
or keep? Signed Peteii Piundlk."
Bridget knocked at the kitchen door
just then, and Mrs. M'Bride let her in.
She was retreating to the parlor, when
she saw her dispatch lying on the fioor;
she picked it up, and sitting down by her
little table, she rend it again. This time Ic
began with "Dear James." "What!"
said Mrs. M'Bride ; nnd opening her eyes
wider, she perceived she was holding a
letter written by some woman to whom
"James" was very dear.
"Poor little thing !" she said, not mean
ing dear James. "Ah, these men !"
many the next morning iuow Munue
took a walk. She went to the postolllce
and dropped a letter in the box. Then
she went to the telegraph office and sent
the first message of the day.
The letter was addressed to Mr. dames
Plum, and contained only the sweet little
missive.
The message was addressed to Mr. Peter
Prindle, and contained only one word :
" Keep."
And Mr. I'nnttie Kepi, irom mat oay
forward, for better and for worse. Har
per's liazar.
MISCELLANEOUS PARAGRAPHS.
Babes in the wood Dolls.
Boston has just introduced the crystal
cabs.
Grkat roles are the favorite food of star
actors.
Whatever a man sewcth, that also
shall he rip.
Tnis favorite cape of Massachusetts
Cape C O. D.
An X lent is an excellent argument
against loaning.
Sai.ixas Valley, Cal., raised 15,000 sacks
of mustard seed last year.
A much needed Civil Service Reform
Putting civil men in olllce. f
Rochester lee dealers refuse to deliver
Ice on Sundays this season.
Ax Albia, Iowa, firm recently." shipped
1S.O0O doen eorrs to an Eastern market.
W hat penance a man will unaergo lor a
pretty woman who
him!
cares , nothing
for
Johm Stuart Mill opposes the private
ownership ot land, and
favors increased
taxation of real estate
Bekcher says that a babe is a mother's
anchor. Wouldn't it be more correct to
call it her spanker boom ?
Rhode Island farmers will plant mini
ature torpedoes In their corn-hills as a
substitute for scare-crows
The latest half-yearly German cata
logue registers 5,483 books as published
there the la'.ter nau oi irz
The Library of Congress has twice
doubled within twelve years, and now
numbers 250,000 volumes.
Kentucky produced in the year 1S72,
90.207.201 pounds of tobacco, ;iO,2:iO,378
pounds short of the product for 1871.
A fascinating widow of eighty-five In
Indiana lately captured in matrimony a
thoughtless youth ot only seventy-two
The booksellers throughout the coun
try talk of having a convention to take
action as regards the publishers' "cutting
under."
Georoia hasn't yet got all the cotton
mills it wants ; but a planter writes that
he has seen an unusual number of cotton
millers. An accepted suitor in California, lately
sold his interest and good-will in his
affianced to a rival for the price of a new
waisteoat.
Paradise. Pa., voted against local op
tion, in -spite of the efforts of the women.
Eve isn't as influential in Paradise as she
was in Eden.
The river on which England's crack
university i-. situated has been just the
thing for chaps this past winter. It was
Cam for ice, you know.
Mr. Mortimer Collins has in prepara
tion a treatise on "Rhythmic Algebra," In
which a scientine notation is apwiieu uj
the science of rhythm.
"What does the sun bring up in spring?"
asked a New Britain Sunday-school teach
er. "Mud," made answer a precocious
Gradgrind of an urchin.
The Chinese sunshade will be brought
Into reauisiiion again next summer ; also
the delicate anair oi niacK lace over wuue
satin and white coral handle,
1TAn a orAiif nrnll-tur Vkr VtO0. In
broadcloth, with thick soles and low heels,
bid fair to become popular lor mountain
excursions and seaside rambles.
White neckties for full dress are now
worn very wide ; our fathers wore just
such neckties, and we shall soon be back
to the " stock" of our grandfathers.
They said they wanted men with
"back-bone" In Jetersville, Va., and
they've got " cerebro-spinal menlnge
ters," ana yet they're not satisfied.
Personal advertisements are like pis
tolsvery pretty playthings, and very
tempting withal ; but, like pistols, they
will burn tne lingers ana are apt to kiu.
Farmers in Ohio say the potato bugs
are already so plenty in the ground that
it will be impossible to raise a tuber un
less a hired man is stationed at each hill
with a shot-gun.
The "National Straw Works" at West
borough. Mass.. seems to be troingr into
drainage pretty extensively, from the re
port that tnere are aw persons employed
in the factory and "2,000 sewers out
side."
The African diamonds are showing
their many shining qualities. Last year
it is estimated that not less than $10.0l0,
000 worth were sent from the Cape, and it
is prophesied that the best have pot yet
beta iouna.
Several of the dozen widows of the
late Rajah of Jodhpur were anxious to
have the rite of tatti performed upon
them, but the new ltaiali restrained the
ladies from this burning evidence of at
tachment to tne dead.
A Fight In a Palncc.
There took place on March 12, at the
Holburg, the grand palace of the Empe
ror Francis Joseph of Austria, nn event
perhaps unequaled in the recent annals of
European royalty. What gave rise to It
was the visit which an old Transylvanian
peasant nnnied llerker Visacky had paid
three days before to the Emperor. The
peasant, and his sovereign were old ac
quaintances and a very peculiar link ex
isted between the two. Their connection
dated from the year in which the Empe
ror's second brother, the ill-starred Arch
duke Ferdinand Maximilian was on the
eve of his departure lor Mexico.
A week or two previous to that event,
llerker Visacky, covered with dust and
bearing every trace of extreme fatigue,
demanded to see His Majesty without de
lay. During the interview the old man
told him that he had traveled all the way
from Transylvania on foot to Vienna be
cause he had had a strange vision in re
gard to the Emperor's brother, the Arch
duke Ferdinand Maximilian. He said he
had seen, in this vision, the latter In a for
eign country, standing up before a file of
soldiers, who were shooting at him. ller
ker Visacky added that he had repeatedly
had other visions of important events,
which had afterward turned out to be lit
erally true. Francis Joseph, like most of
the Hapsburgs, Is superstitious, and the
words of the eld Transylvanian peasant
ma le a deep impression on him. He
thanked llerker Visacky, made him a lib
eral present, and asked him to visit him
again if he had anything further to com
municate. Whether Francis Joseph communicated
the vision of the old Transylvanian peas
ant to ltls enthusiastic brother or not is
unknown ; but certain it is that he re
ceived a second visit from llerker Visacky
in the spring of 180G, Immediately previ
ous to the breaking out of the war be
tween Prussia nnd Austria. The peas
ant predicted to him in the most impres
sive language ana with many startling ae
tails the disastrous issue of the impend
ing campaign. The Emperor listened re
spectfully to the old man, but did not
heed his warning. It may be Imagined
that he looked upon llerker Visacky as a
seer when ins predictions a tew weeks at-
terward were verified, and still more so
when his unfortunate brother. Maxima
ian, in the following year, fell dead under
n. . i .. f I 1 . 1 : t. ik..
Lilt: uuueLS ui uutiicn o bujuigio at ueic
taro.
After that second visit Francis Joseph did
not hear anything further lrom the peas
ant until the 8th of March last. On this
occasion the old peasant said that he had
seen in another vision a Prince of the Im
perial House, as Regent of the Empire,
opening the Austria -i Parliament: that
the Prince had been hailed as liberator of
the country, and had pledged himself to
rule it tnentetortn in a truiy iioerai spirit.
This Prince, he added, was married to a
low-born woman, and for some timft past
had been in Vienna without the Empe
ror's knowledge. Francis Joseph was
startled. He sent for the Chief of the Se
crct Police of Vienna and asked him to
find out whether or not the Archduke
Henry, who it is well known is married to
an actress of very humble descent, and
who in consenuence is not allowed to live
at the imperial court, was secretly in the
city. About noon on the 11th of March,
alter a rwo-davs sejireh..the h,mieror was
informed that the Archduke nad been lor
several weeks incognito at a private house
in wieden suburb.
This added to the Emperor's agitation
nnd he sent at once for the Archduke
Henry, his cousin. What occurred next
is not accurately known, but after a brief
and angry conversation between the two
Hapsburgs the servants in the ante-room
were startled by a noise like that of two
persons engaged in a scullle, mingled with
loud curse. The door was suddenly torn
open, the Emperor appeared with his face
Hushed crimson with anger, and dragged
out the Archduke Henry, whose nose was
bleeding profusely. There coul l be no
doubt but that the Emperor and his Arch
duke cousin had been fighting. Before
the servants were able to recover from
their amazement the Archduke had made
his exit from the ante-room and the Km
peror had returned to his cabinet, where
he remained for several hours afterward.
Next day the servants who had hitherto
done duty in the imperial ante-room were
sent to one of the Emperor's castles
Dalmatia. no doubt to prevent them from
divulging the scandalous affair. But it
has leaked out nevertheless, ana tne peo
ple ot V lenna say that ever since liibenyl
In 1850 wounded the Emperor with a knife
in the neck, Francis Joseph has been sub
ject to sudden and uncontrollable ebulli
tions oi terrible anger, anu mat on sucn
occasions he will at once come from words
to blows. Boston Olobe
Head Lettuce.
A correspondent of the Massachusetts
Ploughman gives the following account of
his treatment of lettuce plants, to make
them head :
I arrived in the country the 15th of
June, and the first complaints were : "We
shall have no head lettuce ; as usual it
will all run to seed." The plants looked
fine and healthy, but already indicated the
running up symptoms. I thinned it out,
then carefully slipped a cotton twine un
der the lowest leaves of each plant, and
gently raised them a few inches from the
ground, and tied them loosely; then I
placed a shingle upon each plant, and a
small stone to keep It firm. Every eve
ning I removed the coverings, watered
each head and replaced the protective
covers in the morning, as I found the
sun's rays had a tendency to cause the
lettuce to run up to seed, and removing
the covering at night allowed it a suffic
iency of fresh air. so that neither mould
nor decay made tneir appearance, i was
rewarded bv larsre solid heads of superior
quality, and the hearts were white and
t i i i. c : l .1 i' 1 1
crisp, xhoii a single piauii mieu oi ueuu
ing and none decayed or bore seed.
The Chamberlain of the Roman Church.
His Eminence, Philippe de Angelis, the
first on the list of the Order of Cardinal
Priests in the Sacred College, was born at
Ascoll, on the 10th of April, in the year
1 , l W lla 1Q finneannantur altfhrir.nna
years of age this present day. Venerable
himself in' years his official function, as
Chamberlain of the Holy Roman Church,
towards the Pontiff, Pius the Ninth, are
rendered especially solemn by the great
age of the distinguished patient. The
Cardinal's present call from a temporary
retirement to the Vatican gives indica
tion that the authorities of the Pontifi
cate consider the Pone's life still in dan
ger. The Cardinal Chamberlain has im
portant duties to perform immediately
after a Pope dies. Indeed, if Pio Nono
were at all a nervous man, the advent of
the Cardinal Chamberlain, coupled with
the fact that hours and hours are spent in
discussing whether, in the event of his
death, he should be buried according to
old custom, and his successor be appoint
ed according to the laws ot the Church,
would suffice to kill him. The ceremo
nies which must be observed at the death
of a Pope, are numerous and interestinir.
As soon as he has expired, his head is
covered, and nobody can toucli him or
move him from his bed until the death
has been duly certified with all the. legal
formalities. The Cardinal Chamberlain
s ushered, by Monsignor, the Master oi
the Chamber, into the bedroom of the de
ceased, several members of the Palatine
Guard and the Apostolic Notary follow
ing him. One ot the private servants oi
the Pope uncovers the face bf the dead
Pontiff, and the Cardinal Chamberlain
having authenticated the death, receives
from the hands of the Master of the
Chamber the Anello PUcaiorio. It is then
the duty of the Apostolic Notary to
write out and read aloud the legal ac
knowledgment of the recognition of the
body, and the consignment of the Anello.
This done, all retire, and the Penitentia
ries of St. Peter's alone-remain in the
room of the deceased, to offer up prayers
for his soul. On leaving the apartments
of the Pope, the Cardinal immediately
signs an order that the great bell of the
Capitol shall announce to the public the
sad event. On the bell beginning to toll
all the churches must follow, nnd funeral
services commence immediately every
where. N. V. Herald.
The Miniature Musical Box.
When Mr. Banes, the elder, returned
from Europe he brought with him from
Genevaa miniature musical box, lonarand
very narrow, and altogether of hardly
greater dimensions, say, than a large
pocket knife. The instrument played out
cheerful little tunes for tha benefit of the
Bangs family, and they enjoyed it very
much. Young William Bangs enjoyed it
to such an extent that one day jiist after
the machine nad been wounu up reaoy
for action, he got up sucking the end of it,
and in a moment of inadvertence It slipped,
and he swallowed the whole concern. The
only immediate consequence of the acci
dent was that a harmonious stomach-ache
was immediately organized upon the In
terior of William Bangs, and lie experi
enced a restlessness which he well knew
would defy the soothing tendencies of
peppermint, and make a mockery of pare
goric.
And William Bangs kept his secret in
hi3 own soul, and in his stomach, also,
determined to hide his misery from his
father, and to spare the rod to tne spoiled .
child spoiled at any rate as far as his di
gestive apparatus was concerned.
liuc mat evening at. tne supper lauio
rnnncr llnnora hml purer hilt. One. mouthful
of bread, wfien strains of wild, mysterious
music were suddenly waited from under
the table. The entire family immediately
groped around upon the floor, trying to
discover whence the sounds eatne, al
though William Bangs sat there filled with
agony and remorse, and bread and tunes,
and desperately asserted his belief that the
music came fronMary Ann, who might
perhaps be playing upon the harp or dul
cimer in the cellar.
He well knew that Mary Ann was un
familiar with the harp, and that the dul
cimer was as much insolvable to her as it
would have been to a fishing-worm ; and
he was aware that Mary Ann would have
scorned, under any circumstances, to
evoke music while sitting on the refrig
erator or reposing in the coal-bin. But
he was irantic with anxiety to nine ins
guilt. Thus it is that one crime leads to
another.
But he could not despise the truth for-
v i v i I ,Uw.-7 ..tnY.t- Ti-li i 1 II Mmfiimilp
was at prayers, William Bangs all at once
got the hiccups, and the music-box started
off without warning with "A Life on the
Ocean Wave, and a Homo on tho Rolling
Deep," with variations. Whereuj on the
paternal Bangs arose from his knees and
grasped William kindly but firmly by tho
hair, and shook him up, and Inquired
what he meant by such conduct. And Wil
liam threw out a' kind of a general Idea to
the effect that he was practicing something
for a Sunday-school celebration which old
Bangs estimated was a singularly thin ex
planation. Then they tried to get up that music
box, and every time they would seize
young William by the legs and shako him
over the sofa cushion, or would throw
some fresh variety of emetic down his
throat, the harmonium within gave a fresh
spurt nnd joyously ground out, "Listen to
the Mocking Bird," or "Thoul't Never
Cease to Love."
So they abandoned the attempt, and
were compelled to permit the musical box
to remain within the sepulchral recesses
of the epigastrium of William Bangs. To
say that the unfortunate victim of the dis
aster was made miserable by his condition,
would be to express in the feeblest manner
the state of his mind. The more music
there was in his stomach, the wilder nnd
more completely chaotic became the dis
cord of his soul.
Just as likely as not it would occur that,
while he lay asleep in bed. in the mlddleof
the night the melody works within would
begin to revolve, and would play "Home
Sweet Home," for two or three hours, un
less the peg happened to slip, when the
cylinder would slip back again to "Life on
the Ocean Wave and a Home on the Roll-
ing Deep," and would rattle out that tune
with variations and iragmenis oi me scaies
until William Bangss brother would
kick him out of bed in wild despair, and
sit on him in vain efforts to subdue the
serenade, which, however, invariably pro
ceeded with fresh vigor when subjected
to unusual pressure.
And when William Bangs went to
church it frequently occurred that, in the
very midst of the most solemn portion of
the sermon, he would feel a gentle dis
turbance under the lowest button of his
jacket ; and presently, when everything
was hushed, the undigested engine would
give a preliminary buzz, and then reel off
"Listen to the Mocking Bird," and
"Thoul't Never Cease to Love," and
scales and exercises, until the clergyman '
would stop and glare at William over nis
spectacles and whisper to one of the dea
cons. Then the sexton would suddenly
walk up the aisle, clutch the unhappy Mr.
Bangs by the collar, and scud dowu the
aisle again to the acconipaniment of " A
Liite on the ocean v ave ana a iiome on
the Rolling Deep," and then incarce
rate William in the upper portion of the
steeple until after church.
But the end came at last, and the mis
erable ofispringof the senior Bangs found
peace. One day wnne he was sitting in
the school endeavoring to learn his mul
tiplication table to the tune i -tiome,
Sweet Home," his gastric juice tri
umphed. Something or other in the
music box gave way all at once, tho
springs were unrolled with alarming
force, and William Bangs, as he felt the
fragments of the instrument hurled right
and left among his vitals, tumbled over on
the floor and expired.
At the post mortem examination they
found several pieces of "Home, Sweet
Home" in his liver, while one of his lungs
was severely torn by a fragment of "A
Life on the Ocean Wave." Small particles
of "Listen to the Mocking Bird" were re
moved from his heart and lreast-bone,and
three brass pegs of "Thoul't Never Cease
t Love" were found firmly driven Into
his fifth rib.
They had no music at the funeral. They
sifted the machinery out of him, quietly
in the cemetery. Whenever the Bangses
buy musical bxes now, they get them as
large as a piano, and chain them to the
re - 1 wall, Forney'i Press.