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HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher. NIL DESPERANDTJJI. Two Dollars per Annum.
VOL. VII. BIDGWAY, ELK COUNTY, PA.; THUBSDAY, JANUARY 3, 1878. NO. 46.
i-. . -.
Poem by Two Little American (jlrln.
St. Nicholas Magazine.
Elaine and Dora Read Goodale, the two sin
ters tome of whose poems (re here given, are
children of thirteen and ten years of age.
Their homo, where the'r infancy and child
hood have heen passed, is on a large and leo
lated farm, lying npon the broad slopes of the
bean tif til Berkshire hills of western Massa
chusetts, and is quaintly called " Sky Farm."
Here, in a simple country life, divided be
tween books and nature, they began, almost as
soon as they began to talk, to express in versa
what they saw and felt, rhyme and rhyme
seeming to come by Instinct. Living largely
out-of-doors, vigorous and healthful in body
as in mind, they draw pleasure and instruction
from all about them.
One of their chief delights is to wander over
the lovely hills and meidowj adjoining Sky
Farm. Peeping into mossy dells, where wild
flower, love to hide, hunting the early arbutus,
the queen hare-bell, or the blue gentian, they
learn the secrets of 'nature, and these they
pour forth in song as simply and as naturally
m the birds sing.'1
The Urumbler.
His Youth.
His c iat was too thick and his cap was too thin,
lie couldn't be quiet, he luted a din
He hnted to write, and he hated to read.
He wax certainly vrry much injured indeed s
He must study and work over books he de
tested, HU pirents were shirt, and ho never was
rested :
He knew he was wretched as wretched could te,
There wag no one so wretchedly wretched as he.
His Maturity.
His farm wis too small and h's taxes too big,
li was selfish and lazy, and crosi as a pig ;
His wife was too silly, his children too rude ;
And juxt because he was rmcomnv'nly good,
Ho never bad money enough or to spare,
He hid nothing at all fit to eat or to wear ;
He know he was wretched as wretched could be,
There was no one so wretchedly wretched as he.
His Old Age.
He Kudu he lias sorrows more deep than his
fer.
He grumbles to think he has grumbled for
i ars :
Ho grumble) to t'link he has grumbled away
Ills home aud l is fortune, his life's little day.
JSnt, alas ! 'tis too late it is no nee to say
That his eyes are too dim, and Lis hair in too
gray.
He knows he is wretched as wretched can be,
There is no one more wretchedly wro'ched than
h.
Dora Gnnlale ten years old).
June.
For stately trees in lich array,
Fcr fnuliiht all the harpy day.
For blofBoms radiant and rare;' - i.
For skies whin daylight closen,
x For Joyous, clear, outpouring son;j
'' From birds that all the green wood throng,
For all things voting, aud bright, aud fair,
We praise thee, Month of Roses !
For blue, blue i'dos of summer calm,
For fragrant odors breathing balm,
For quiet, cooling shades where oft
The weary head rcponc,
For brooklets babbling thro' the fields
Where Earth h? r choicest treasures yields,
For all things tender, sweet and soft,
We love thee, Month of Roues !
Elaine (lootale (thirtnrn years old).
Ashes of Roses.
(Crown people often write in sympathy with
children, but hero is a littlo poem by a child
written in bj mpatby with grown folks :
Hoft on the sunset fky
Bright daylight closes,
Leaving, when light doth die,
I'ale hues that mingling lie
Ashes of roses.
When love's warm sun is sot,
Love's brightness closes ;
Eyes with hot tears are wet,
In hearts there linger yet
Ashos of roses.
Elaine Goolale thirteen year old).
An Impudent Puppy.
Pretty, sauoy Kitty went swinging up
and down, tip and ilown, her light
niuslin drees waving and fluttering iu
the breeze.
"Glorious, Rupert, isn't it?" alio
cried, calling to her pet and companion,
a huge, shaggy dog. 44 But where are
you ? Why don't you answer, sir ?" And
swinging more slowly, she looked every
where around her.
Kitty was down at the bottom of tke
old-fashioned garde at the back of her
father's farm-house, where a swing had
been put up for her in a little grove of
trees.
Suddenly a merry voice cried out,
" Here 1" aud a handsome young man
leaped the low fenee, and advanced
towards her, laughing merrily, and
doffing his hat.
Kitty was out of the swing and on her
feet in an instant, her eyes flashing, her
figure drawn up to its full height She
looked prettier than ever in her indig
nation. 44 I beg your pardon," said the in
truder, bowing half-mockingly ; "but I
was taking a short cut across the field
when I heard you call me."
"Call youl"
Kitty looked as if she would annihi
late him.
"Certainly," with the utmost cool
ness, 44 You called Rupert,' didn't
you ?"
"I was calling my dog, sir," said
Kitty, with infinite hauteur.
" well, I'm not exactly a dog," was
the laughing answer ; " but I've often
been called au impudent puppy at
your service, miss."
He boved again, profoundly.
" I should think so," snapped Kitty,
stamping her little foot And she
muttered to herself, not expecting to be
beard: "Impudeace!"
The stranger heard th word, never
theless, nis manner changed. He
became as serious and deferential aa the
most chivalous knight of old in tke
presence of his mistress.
' I I ieg pardon : I'm afraid I'm trea-pa-t-iug.
but the path through the
field was troJdea eg if one bad the right
of wo? tliere,ottJ I heard yen call-well,
I made a mistake." Again the mirthful
look danced in his eyes, " Good morn
ing." He swept the very ground with his
hat, aa he executed another profound
bow, and then turned and, putting his
hand on the top of the fence, vaulted
over, and the next moment was out of
sight.
Kitty did not swing auy more that
day. but went back to the house, mut
tering: "Impudent fellow 1" while the
real Rupert, who had started off chasing
a rabbit, reappeared at this juncture,
and accompanied her. But this was not
the Rupert she mennt, when she said
" the impudent fellow."
A week passed. Kitty saw no more
of the stranger, though she often won
dered whom he could be, and if Jie were
staying in the neighborhood. At the
end of that time she attended an eve
ning party at Squire Stacey's. Almost
the first person she saw on entering the
room was the handsome stranger.
"I wish to introduce you to my
nephew," said the squire, leading that
personage up to Kitty. " His name, by
baptism, is Rupert Mortimer ; but he is
such a saney fellow that he is best
known among his friends aa ' that impu
dent puppy.' "
The eyes of the young people met.
Young Mr. Mortimer's were dancing
with fun. For the life of her Kitty
could not help laughing. So they
laughed in concert, and he said, bowing
low, and repeating the same words he
had used in the garden :
"Yes, 'that impudent puppy at
your service, miss.' "
"He is making sport of me," said
Kitty to her3elf, and drew herself up
haughtily ; aud for the rest of the inter
view she was cold and reserved, confin
ing herself to moiosyllabio replies.
Very soon, at the a'Xiance of one of
her mnny admirers, iieexcused herself,
and went off to claims?.
" A bit of a Tnrtiir, I'm afraid," solilo
quized Rnpert Mortimer. "But how
pretty she is. She looks, too, as though
slio had a noble character ; and she can
take her own part, as I have found to
my cost. But I'm afraid she has been
i.poilt by admiration. To get into her
good graces one must go on his very
knees to her ; and, faith 1 it is almost
worth while to do it. But no, Rupert
Mortimer, my boy, keep your self-respect"
Then, with a laugh, " ' Is thy
servant a dog, that he should do this
thing?"'
Yet often that evening Rupert found
himself, as if by some magnetic attrac
tion, drawn to Kitty's side. Kitty, too,
could not help occasionally glancing
admiringly at his handsome face aud
graceful figure.
- Balls, pio-nics and croquet parties
followed each other in rapid succession,
for the summer waa a gay one. -' Kitty
and young Mr. Mortimer were together
almost constantly. Somehow, Kitty fell
into the habit of expecting Rupert
always as her special escort; and he
began to feel that no one but he had a
right to Kitty, and to be very jealous
when others attempted to pay her atten
tions. As yet, however, no words of
love passed between them; for Rupert,
now thoroughly enamored, feored to
ruin all by a too premature avowal ; es
pecially as, once or twice, when he had
ventured to approach the subject, Kitty
had suddenly grown haughty and cold.
A final pio-nic had been planned to
close the season. It proved a great suc
cess. The day passed merrily on until
luncheon time. Rupert had made up
his mind to have a quite ramble with
Kitty after this meal, and if things went
well, to speak of his love. But he had
counted without his host, for when
luncheon was over, and ho had got rid of
his aunt, Mrs. Stacy, who had called
him to her side to wait on her, lo 1
Kitty had disappeared. Full of jealous
fears, and determined to find out who
was his rival, he seth frth through the
woods to discover Kitty.
He had not gone far before her favor
ite dog came bounding toward him,
jumping and barking, and manifesting
the greatest delight at seeing him. But
when Rupert stooped to pat his name
sake, the dog darted ahead ; then stopped
and looked wistfully at Rupert, and then
rushed on again.
" What can he mean ?" said Rupert.
A sudden fear seized him that some
thing was wrong, and he hurried on,
the dog rapidly leading the way.
At last, in an opening of the woods,
on a moss-covered rock, he saw Kitty,
pale, breathless, and apparently in pain.
In a moment he was at her side. All his
jealousy was gone. Love was upper
most now.
"Oh! darling," he cried, "what is
it ? Thank Heaven I have found you."
"Oh! Mr. Mortimer," she cried, with
a little sob, " how glad I am to see you.
I began te think I should have to stay
all night alone. I've sprained my ankle
and I can't walk. What shall I do?"
And she burst into tears.
Our hero took both the little hands,
and held them tightly in his own, while
he questioned her anxiously as to the
accident, relating meantime how he came
to find her.
" But how," exclaimed Kitty, ruefully,
when he had done" how am I ever to
got back f I don't believe I can walk a
step."
" Of course you can't. Who said you
could ?" cried Rupert " But you'll get
back right, all the same, for I intend to
carry you."
" Carry me !" Kitty gave a little
scream, aud shrank bak, and covered
her face with both her hands, for she
felt the hot blood in her cheeks. " Oh,
no ; that- will never do ;" and she blun
dered out unthinkingly, " what will peo
ple say?" N.
But Rupert did Ept stop to reply to
this question. Very lyttle cared he what
people said. WitVmt A word he put his
arms around Kitty, and, lifting her
bodily from her feet, walked off with her
as if she had been a feather-weight
At first, Kitty struggled a little ; but
the strong, manful arms held her closely,
and soon she began rather to like it, and
to think it all very delightful
"At any rate," she said to herself, " I
can't help it ; he is too masterful to
resist "
With this comforting conclusion, her
fair head sank on his shoulder, and for
the first time in her short life Kitty
knew what it was to bo supremely
happy,
Rupert cftfriad 1U lovely burJta to
his own carriage, which stood apart from
the crowd, and carefully placed Kitty
in it.
"There, now," he said, "I shall take
yon home immediately, and stop for a
doctor on the way. Nobody can drive
you with so little pain as lean," he
added, seeing she was about to object.
" Besides, yon must begin t obey me,
so as to get your hand in, for sometime
yon are going to be my wife, you know."
" lour wife? cried Kitty.
She gave a pout and a toss of her
head, but she blushed, and not with
anger either. Yes ; blushed to the tips
of her dainty ears.
" Of course," retorted Rupert, as he
stepped softly into the . carriage, and
took his seat beside her, looking holf
fondly into her eyes which fell before
him. "I have meant- it all along.
Didn't you, dearest ?"
" Really, you are the most 'impudent
puppy' t ever saw," retorted Kitty,
bursting into laughter in 9pite of her
self. But, for all that, she did not repulse
the kiss with which, before starting,
Rupert thought it necessary to fortify
himself for the journey.
What more it there to tell? Very
little. For Kitty and Rupert were mar
ried early in the autumn, and were su
perlatively happy.
"Do yon know," said Rupert, one
day, " that it was by the merest acci
dent we ever knew each other? I had
come down to my uncle's for a single
mgiit only, when 1 saw yon iu tue
swing, and my whole life was changed.
I fell in love at first sight, and resolved
to stay and make your acquaintance,
even if it took all the summer."
" So I owe my happiness," answered
Kitty, archly. " to my faithful dog dear
old fellow being off guard that after
noon." "And to an 'impudent puppy ' coin
ing along." retorted Rupert with a kiss,
"just in the nick of time, and taking
his place.
The Story of a " Hired Uirl."
A Wheeling ( W. Va. ) correspondent of
the Detroit Free Press tells the follow
ing story : One day last summer a friend
of mine called npon me, informing me
that her girl wished to see me in regard
to taking music lessons. Of course, I
was somewhat surprised at the idea of a
hired girl wanting to take music lessons,
Mrs. D , her employer, seemed to
look upon her with the greatest respect.
The children, from baby Lucy up to big
Tom placed all confidence iu her, and
would run to Tillie with their little
troubles in preference to mama, some'
times. After seeing Tillie, and making
the necessary arrangements, it was her
desire to come for her lessons in the eve
ning, when she was tree from her 1av,'s
work. Mrs, D had given her the
use of the piano for au hour or so in the
afternoon. I was struck with her prompt
ness and lady-like manners, and could
but think her ambition was quite natural,
All the autumn and winter Bhe came out
untiringly, perhaps her evening would
pass aud 'she wonid not come, but os sure
as the next day came, with it came a neat
note excusing herself on the ground that
"the ironing was so large." or "Mr.
D came in so late for supper," but I
always missed the bright, sunny face
when she failed to come. How I used to
watch those poor red, stiff hands toiling
over the Keys. "Musio and kitehen
work do not agree very well, but I love
my music so, it makes my task lighter in
the. kitchen," she would say cheerfully.
Can it be, I would think, that she is to
be looked down on simply because she
was compelled to slave for somebody?
Ah. no. she was doing her duty. It was
the m'ssion God had set out for her and
her reward wordd come by and by. One
evening Tillie handed me a letter saying :
" I want you to read the offer of another
situation I have had." I little guessed
the contents as I took it from her. To
my astonishment and pleasure it was a
manly, noble heart pleading for her life
to be placed in his keeping. Every word
spoke the true man, nothing sickly or
sentimental ; just such a letter as I would
want to receive under similar circum
stances, and the writer, I knew the name
well, and knew him to be a perfect man.
I could but ay as I handed back the
letter, " I hope you accepted." "Yes"
and there was a wealth of happiness in
the clear blue eyes, and some tears, too,
I im agined. ' I never knew what it was
to live before. Just the thought that
there is one person in the world to care
for me in such happiness." Then she
told me how, after receiving his letter,
she wrote to him telling him she was but
a poor girl, it would be better for them
not to meet "he came to me in a few
evenings telling me he knew exactly how
poor 1 was, he asked me for nothing but
my heart and hand could 1 reiuse l
Blessings on such girls. In place of
foolishly running the streets, the devoted
her spare moments to music and good
reading. My Tillie presides over a pleas
ant lutle home all ner own, and looks up
to her handsome lord wondering like the
old woman, " Can it be 1 f
Military Surgery iu Turkey.
The following details will seem in
credible to those who are not acquainted
with the peculiar ways of the Turkish
administration. An artillerist had his
knee shattered at Sistova by the explo
sion of a shell, and after his wound had
been temporarily dressed he was trans
ported from the Held of name to Con
stantinople. In spite of his intense
sufferinirs. he listened with the greatest
interest to all the news from the seat of
war. On his arrival in Constantinople,
amputation was found to be necessary,
bnt before the operation could be per
formed permission had to be obtained
from the ministry of war. This permis
sion must always be obtained before an
Rmnntatinn can be performed im a
Turkish hospital, and it not infrequently
happens that the patient dies beiore the
civil functionaries have ceased deliberat
ing on the demand of the surgeons.
Fortunately for our artillerist his ease
was pushed through with exceptional
rapidity, and the ..desired permit waa
given after a delay of only eight or ten
days. The brave soldier, who had
awaited the pleasure of the administra
tion with the most exemplary patience.
bore the operation with heroic courage:
nere is wn nope mm m wpi
dated.
MARK TWAIN ASD'1 HE MISER,
fllnrk's FIrxt nnd Only Attempt la Travel
oa Ilia Nnm lte Flumr The Rxtrner
ilinnry Uneat KB Old Winer Ilnal.
The Boston A d ertt$er gives the fol
lowing report of the remarks of Mr.
Samuel L. Clemens, at the banquet
given in honor of Mr. John G. Whittier
in that city recently s
Mr. UHAiRMAJt : 'luw is an ocoasion
peculiarly meet for the digging up of
pleasant reminiscences concerning liter
ary folk ; therefore, I will drop lightly
into history myself. tandiug here on
the shore oi the Atlantic and contemplat
ing certain of its biggest literary bil
lows, I am reminded of a thing which
happened to me fifteen years ago, when
l had just succeeded in stirring np a
little NevadianlifceKjry ocean-puddle
myself, whose spum-llakes were be
ginning to blow thinly, Californiaward.
I started an inspection tramp through
the southern mines of California. I was
callow and conceited,? and I resolved
to try the virtue of my nom de plume.
1 very soon nad au opportunity. 1
knocked at a miner's lonely log cabin in
the foot hills of the Sierras just at nighs
fall. It was snowing at the time. A
jaded, melancholy man of fifty, bare
footed, opened to me. . When he heard
my nom ds plume, tin looked more de
jected than before. "He let me in
pretty reluctantly, I thought and after
the customary bacou'tand beans, black
coffee aud a hot whWy, I took a pipe.
This sorrowful man jiad not said three
words up to this time. , Now he spoke
up and said in the voice of one who is
secretly suffering : " You're the fourth
I'm going to move." "The fourth
what ?" said I. " The fourth literary
man that's been here in twenty-four
hours I'm going to. move." "Yon
don't tell me !" said I ; " Who were the
the others?" "Mr. Longfellow, Mr.
Emerson and Mr.... Oliver Wendell
Holmes dad fetch the lot 1"
Yon can easily believe I was surprised.
I supplicated three hot whiskysdid the
rest and finally the melancholy miner
began. He said : :
" They came here just at dark yester
day evening, audi let them in, of course.
Said they were goir.g to Yo Yosemite.
They were a rough lot but that's noth
ing, everybody looks rough that travels
afoot. Mr. Emerson was a seedy little
bit of a chap red-hfded. Mr. Holmes
was as fat as a balloon he weighed as
much as 300, and hfcd double chains all
the way down to his stomach. Mr.
Lonnrfellow was built like a prize-fighter.
His head was cropped and bristly like
ns if he had a wig made of hair brushes,
His nose lay straight down his face, like
a finger with the end joint tilted np.
Thpy had been drinking I cohKI see
that. And what queer talk they used I
Mr. Holmes inspeciod this cabin, then
he took me by tue button-holo, and
says he :
" 'Through tho deep caves of thought
I hear a voice that sings:
Bmld thee more str.ti '.y mansions,
O my sonl !'
" Says I. ' I can't afford it Mr. Holmes,
and, moreover, I don't want to.' Blamed
if I liked it pretty well, either, coming
from a stranger, that way. However, I
started to get ont my bacon and beans,
when Mr. Emerson came and looked on
awhile, and then he takes me aside by
the button-hole and says:
" Give me agates for my meat;
t live me cantharides to eat ;
From air and ocean bring me foods,
From all zones and altitudes.'
" Say I, ' Mr. Emerson if you'll excuse
me, this ain't no hotel.' You see it eort
of riled me; I wasn't used to the ways of
littery swells. But I went on a-sweanng
over my work, and next comes Mr.
Longfellow and button-holes me, and
interrupts me. Says he:
" Honor be to Mndjikeewis !
Yon shall hear how Tan-Fuk-Keewis
" But I broke in, and says 1, 4 Begging
your pardon, Mr. Longfellow, if you'll
be so kind as to hold your yawp for about
five minutes and let me get this grub
ready, you'll do me proud. Well, sir,
after they d filled up I set out the lug,
Mr. Holmes looks at it, aud then fires up
all of a sudden and yells,
" ' Flash ont a stream of blood-red wine !
for I would drink to other days.'
44 By George, I was getting kind of
worked up. I don't deny it, I was get
ting kind of worked up. 1 turns to Mr,
Holmes, and says I, 4 Looky here, my
fat friend, I'm a-runnmg this shanty,
and if the court knows herself, you 11
take whisky straight, or you 11 go dry.
Them's the very words I said to him
Now I didn't want to sass such famous
littery people, but yon see they kind of
forced me. There ain't nothing onrea
sonable 'bout me; I don't mind a passel
of guests a-treading on my tail three or
four times but when it comes to standing
ou it, it's different, and if the court
knows hetself , you'll take whisky straight
or you 11 go dry. well, between drinks,
they'd swell round the cabin and strike
attitudes and spout bays Mr. Jbong
fellow,
" ' This iu the forest primeval.'
Says Mr. Emerson:
" ' Here once the embattled farmers stood
And fired the shot heard round the world.
44 Says 1 : 4 O, blackgnard the premises
as ranch as yon want to--it don't cost
you a cent.' Well, they went on drink'
ing. aud pretty soon they got out t
greasy old deck and went to playing cut
throat euchre at ten cents a corner on
trust I began to notice some pretty
suspicious things. Mr. iiimerson dealt,
looked at hia hand, shook his head,
says :
'"lam the doubter and the doubt-'
and calmly bunched the hands, and went
to shuffling for a aew lay-out. Says
ue,
' 4 They reckon 111 who leave me out i
They know not well the subtle way
I ktep. I pass, and deal again!"
44 Hang'd if he didn't go ahead and do
it. too I Oh. he was a cool one. Well.
ia about a minute, things were running
pretty tight, but of a sudden I see by
Mr. Emerson's eve that he indeed he
had 'em. He had already oorraled two
tricks, and each of the-othera one. So
now he kind of lift a .little in hia chair,
and says :
" 1 1 tire of globes and ace 1
Too long the game U plajed !
and down he fetched a, right bower,
Mr. Longfellow smiles as sweet aa pie,
and aayg ;
" Th"ki, thanks to thee, my worthy frlepd
t ot tot iteeen auw uaj fangot y
and dog my cats, if he didn't down
with another right bower I Well, Sir,
up jumps Holmes, a-war-whooping, as
usual, and says :
44 ' Ood help them If the tempest swinge
The pine againat the palm ! '
and I wish I may go to grass if he
didn't swoop down with another right
bower. Cmerson claps his hand on his
bowie, Longfellow clasps his on his re
volver, and I went under a bunk. There
was going to be trouble ; but that mon
strous Holmes rose up, wobbling his
double chins, aud says he : ' Qrder, gen
tlemen J the first man that draws. I'll
lay down on him and smother him ?'
All aniet on the Potomac, yon bet you I
" They were pretty iiow-come-you-so,
now, and they begun to blow. Emerson
says, 4 The bulliest thing I ever wrote
was 44 Barbara Frietchie. ' Says Long
fellow, 4 It doesn't begin with my 14 Big
low Papers."' Says Holmes, 4 My
41 Thanatopsis" lays over 'em both.'
They mighty near ended in a fight
Then they wished they had some more
company, and Mr. Emerson pointed at
me and says :
" 4 Is yonder squalid peasant all
That this proud nursery could breed. '
44 He was a whetting his bowie on his
boot so I let it pass. Well, sir, next
they took it into their heads that they
would like some music ; so they made
me stand np and sing, 4 When Johnny
Comes Marching Home ' till I dropped
at 'thirteen minutes past four this
morning. That's whatl've been through,
my friend. When I woke at seven, they
were leaving, thank goodness, and Mr.
Longfellow had my only boots on, and
his own under his arm. Says I, 4 Hold
on there; Evangeline, what are you
going to do with them ?' He says : 4 Go
ing to make tracks with 'em ; because
" ' Lives of great men all remind ns
We can make our livee sublime
And departing, leave behind ni
. Footprints on the sands of Time.'
44 As I said. Mr. Twain, yon are the
fourth in twenty-four hours and I'm a
going to move I ain't suited to a liter
ary atmosphere."
1 said to the miner : " wny, my dear
sir, Uiese were not tue gracious singers
to whom we and the world pay homage ;
these were imposters.
The miner investigated me with a
calm eye for a while, then said he
4 Ah. imposters were they ? are you ?"
I didn't pursue the subject, and since
then 1 haven t traveled on my nom ae
nhime enough to hurt Such was the
reminiscence I was moved to contribute,
Mr. Chairman. In' my enthusiasm I may
have exaggerated the details a little, but
you will easily, forgive me that fault,
since it is the first time I have ever de
flected from perpendicular fact on an
occasion like this.
- - Canceling n Church's Debt.
The New York Tribune of a recent
issue snys : xue uuurcn oi tne noiy
Trinity (the Iiev. Dr. Steven H. Tyng,
Jr., rector) yestenlay pi. dged $f lou.uuu
toward canceling its heavy debt oi SfUdb,
COO. This remarkable result was due
largely to the earnest and inspiring ap
peals of Hidward Aimuan, tne "cnurcu
debt raiser." as he is sometimes called.
from his remarkable success in relieving
churches ot crushing burdens of debt
and of Dr. Tyng, Dr. Charles S.
Robinson, and Roswell C. Smith. It
was announced from the pulpit yester
day morning that the debt would be
raised then and there. Checks were
passed around, and while addresses
were being delivered, papers all over
the house were being rapidly covered
with significant figures. Tho munifi
cent gifts of one person after auother
were received with a quiet satisfaction
that spoke volumes for the success of
the plan ; and the rapidity with which
checks were handed iu, and their
amounts, showed an enthusiastic devo
tion which took no thought of hard
times. It was pleasant to note the in
terest tuken in the subscription by the
women and girls, and the many Tittle
clubs they formed, pledging themselves
to sums largo and small, were practical
proofs of their zeal. t
Before the morning wore away 110,
000 had been subscribed and enthusiasm
was at fever heat. The church was
crowded and the remarkable success of
so short a season aroused hopes of rais
ing the whole amount that day. It was
not thought wise to dismiss the congre
gation while in so satisfactory a mood,
so a nice little lunch was provided for
all, and all were invited to remain.
Messengers carried explanatory notes to
many homes. Those who sent no word
received many calls of inquiry during
the afternoon. In fact the courteous
ushers were kept very busy, reassuring
anxious friends, who came to discover
why the most regular persons iu the
world, who had never been away from
home before without sending word, had
not returned. When the character of
the extra meeting was learned, numbers
came in more rapidly than ever. Occa
sionally some overwearied lady would
leave the church, but her place would
soon be filled by a fresh arrival. The
gentlemen sat quietly through with tire
less patience.
The morning session did not really
end until half-past five. Then a short
recess was takeu until half-past six, the
evening session continuing until nearly
eleven o'clock. Among the subscrip
tions made during the day and evening
were seven pledges of $10,000 each ;
nine of $5,000 each ; one of $3,000 ; two
of $2,000 ; eight of $1,000, and the re
mainder in smaller sums. The subscrip
tions are to be paid within six months
on condition that the whole amount of
the debt is subscribed.
An Aged Apple Tree.
There is standing in tho towu of
Wethersfleld, Conn., an English Pear
main apple tree of mammoth dimensions,
measuring, one foot from the ground,
ten feet and eleven inches in circumfer
ence. It yielded fruit, according to tra
dition, for nearly a century before the
revolution, waa brought from England
by William Try an, and set out on hia
farm, which haa since been divided into
smaller ones. Upon one of these sections,
now belonging to a Mrs. Loveland,
etanl tlits venerable tree. It is in a
good bearing condition, having borae
exeellent fruit last year.
We have more power than will, and it
is often by way of excuse to ourelvf g
that we faaoy thing are iinpoMfble,
A Fox Hunt on the Old Plantation.
The Constitution, of Atlanta. Ga.,
saya t The scourge that swept slavery
into the deep sea of the past, gave the
death-blow to one of the outgrowths of
that peculiar institution. The results
that made slavery impossible blotted
from the Southern social system the
patriarchial we had . almost written
feudal establishment known as the old
plantation. Nourished into life by
slavery, it soon became one oi tne
features of Southern civilization a
peculiar feature, indeed, and one which
for many years exerted a powerful influ
ence throughout the world, it waa a
cherished feature of Southern society,
and it is not to be doubted that its de
molition haa been more deeply deplored
by our people than all the other results
of the war put together. What days
they were those days on the old planta
tion I How vividly you remember the
slightest incident ! How picturesque
the panorama that passes before your
mind's eye ! There was the fox hunt
planned for the espeoial benefit of Miss
Carrie de Compton, the belle of Rock
ville. Yon remember her lying in
a state between dreaming and waking,
as Aunt Patience heaven rest the good
old negro's sonl I comes into your
room with much ado, bearing a steaming
cup of coffee. You remember what an
impression the fair Carrie made upon
you in hr trim riding-habit and how,
when with one dainty hand holding the
gathered folds of her skirt, she stooped
to caress yonr favorite honnd Flora, you
lost your heart utterly. It is all indel
ibly impressed npon your memory the
ride to Sir Reynard's range, the casting
about oi the hounds, tne sndden burst
of canine melody as the fox gets up
right in the midst of the pack, the hard
ride at the heels of the hounds for a few
moments, and then the sndden inspira
tion on your part that it would be well
to gnide the fair De Compton to a point
near which the fox (an old customer of
vonrsl would surely pass. You remem
ber how you vainly endeavored to con
vince your skeptical charge tuat tue
slight, dark shadow stealing across the
hillside not a quarter of a mile away
was the veritable fox the dogs were after;
how your whole framo tingled with de
light when t he soul-stirring music of the
hounds was borne to your ears on the
crisp breeze of the morning,, and what a
thrill came over yon as the pack burst
into view your ilora far to the iront
ana nymg line a meteor i
How Congressmen Live.
Says 44 Gath," in a recent Weshing-
ton letter to the Cincinnati Knomrer
Diet, exercise, little company, no public
dinners, home habits, secretiveness ;
these are the hfe-bneys of a Congress
man. I see some men here, guiltless on
every other score, who are wrecks from
dining out merely, The high climate
of this country would soon kill the roost
seasoned English statesmen if fed as well
as at home. There ia the bitters of
concentrated Angostura or the brandy
cocktail before dinner. The larded
meats are pressed upou the palate by
wines which inevitably drift into long
potations of champogues, ranging from
the lightest Verzenay to the brandy
strong green seal. A tor all this, aud
animated conversation, iu whose wisdom
the intellect has appeared to touch the
gods, the man is put to bed, and sleeps
under nature's deadest convulsion uui il
morning, when he relies upon the bath to
revive the hot skin, and release the braiu
to public work. Frightful is the waste
of tissue ever going on. The animated
mind is tho speediest lost ; in the time
of potution come the familiarity and
temptation, tho loose tongue and easy
commitment, the snare of women aud
the social injury. Theie are public men
in Washington who pour out the wine
they never taste, and still it seems that
they also are caught up with by the
consequences. I see sick men here who
offered the cup and never drank. Hebo
had no brother ; he died before she
came I the cup.
Slioemaking.
The shoemaker is a relic of antiquity,
aud lived and had his being as early as
the twelfth century. He was accustomed
to hawk his goods, and it is conjectured
that there was a separate trade for an
nexing the soles. The Romans, in class
ical times, wore cork soles in their shoes,
to secure their feet from water, especially
in winter, and, as high heels were not
then introduced, the Roman ludies, who
wished to appear taller, put plenty of
cork under them. The streets of Rome
in the time of Domitian were blocked np
by cobblers' stalls, which he, therefore,
caused to be removed. In the middle
ages shoes were cleaned by washing with
a sponge and oil; soap aud grease were
the substitutes for blacking. Buckles
were worn on the shoes in the fourteenth
century. In Ireland a human skeleton
was found with marks of buckles on the
shoes. In England they became fash
ionable many years before the reign of
Queen Mary. The laboring classes wore
them of copper. Other persons had
them of silver or copper gilt. Not long
after shoes roses came in. Buckles re
vived before the revolution in 1789, and
finally became extinct before the close of
the eighteenth century.
Life in Dreary Iceland.
Men and women, masters and servants,
all inhabit the same room, while the
cleanliness is not much attended to;
bnt poor as they are, and accustomed to
great privations, they set an example of
cheerful contentment. The beauty of
the young girls is remarkable ; their
fair hair falls in long plaits, partially
covered by a black cloth coil, daintily
worn on one side of the head, and fin
ished at the top with a tassel of colored
silk run through a silver or steel buckle,
whioh floats on the shoulder. It reminds
the traveler of the Greek head-dress,
but the blue eyes, with their sweet.
benevolent expression, soon recall to hia
mind their Danish origin. The dress is
made of the cloth woven in the country,
and on festive days the bodice is gayly
adorned with silver braid ana velvet,
while the belt and sleeves are ornament
ed with silver devioef, beautifully chased
and often of great value. On wet and
oald day the shawl becomes a, useful
mantilla, oompletely enveloping the
head, and defending the wearer from the
etrecta of the frequent urm,,f 'ham
ben' Journal, ;
Early Morning Sights In a CHy.
It is interesting occasionally to arise
early in the morning and see the city
get up and shake itself into wakefulness.
Scarcely a sound is heard as you walk
out, bnt presently the street-lamp man
comes dodging along on a rapid walk,
stopping at every point to turn out me
gas. tie disappears around tne corner,
leaving a track of semi-darkness behind
him, and then comes the paper carrier,
with a great, heavy sack dangling at his
side, whioh he gradually lightens by
pulling out the damp sheet,one by one,
sticking tnem nnaer aoors, lossmg uvh
transoms, and throwing through npper
windows with an unerring precision of
aim quite remarkable. He dodges about
from one side of the street to the other,
aiming for this house, missing that, and
then darting over again to the opposite
side to repeat the same manoauvre. After
him comes the grimy laboring man
with a tin dinner-bucket, hastening to
his work on the other side of town, hur- .
rying by and paying no heed to the ine
briated loafer embracing a lamp-post,
and accosting him with :
44 TJh-nh-ick ! Myfrenwat uu-icn s
yonr hurry?"
Then comes a Deiatea mun-cuii, nu
tting oyer the cobble-stones with a noise
notlung else under heaven can make,
turning the corner on one wheel, and
disappearing like an ill-founded hope.
The noise dies away in the distance, end
then comes an omnibus on its way to
the depot, regardless of dreams and
visjons.
In the all-night saloon two or three
ill-looking men, with breath like pesti
lence, are standing at the counter with
half empty glasses, condemning the
conduct of some absent one who had
done something scandalous, and " went
baok on his pards, who alius treated
him white, an' would a' died to do him
a good turn. " The barkeeper rubs his
sleepy eyes, looks uneasily at the clock
quite frequently, pours himself out
something very red, gulps it down with
watery eyes, takes a walk to the door,
looks impatiently out, slums it with a
disappointed bang, returns and says:
44 Brandy Bill is at his old tricks agin."
The other drain u.oir places, after
many hand-shaking all round, and
when a man with a shocky head and a
gift-book cover staggers in, and swears
he never .drinks alone "if there's a
stranger of white principles in the
room," and wants to know 41 what pizen
suits 'em best," he at once takes the
position of honor, and inhales more
foul breath iu the shape of friendly
protestation than a mule would put up
with, without kicking the roof off.
At the hotels the scrubbing brigade
has commenced its daily battle with dirt,
and the clerk yawns on his stool and
twirls his moustache with the air of a
task. . .
A littlo later and the newsboys are -ot,
with noses u-l-"Ui c6it'., ohrmtiug
their journals in quavering tones, and
importuning every straggling passer-by
with a persistence encountered in no
other calling. Then come the street
cars with yawning drivers, and now and
then a passenger, who rubs his eyes,
and thinks regretfully of the recently
vacated couch. The footfalls on the
sidewalk become more frequent and
less reverberating. In the market the
scene is lively aud animated. The
torches fliiro and splutter in the wind,
aud at slight distance give to the view a
weird, fantastic look, but on closet ap
proach the abrupt outlines mellow dowu
aud fade away. The potatoes and cab
bages jostle the poetic element out ot
sight, and the matter-of-fact plodding
faces of the venders remind you that
life is sordid and stem.
The gray dawn rolls owoy. and the
first straggling sunbeams clase each
other over housetops. Shop-boys are
busy unbarring and opening up, sweep
ing out and getting things in trim for
the day's battle with profit and loss.
Thicker come the passing feet; men and
boys, girls and women, hurrying forth
to 'take up the yoke of toil for bread.
Stir aud bustle soon take the places of
quiet and rest; the streets are noisy with
the roll of vehicles and the sound of
business. Tlie great city has thrown off
her clumbers, aud the cares and duties
of another day are ushered in. Cincin
nati Jl?eal;)ut labic.
A Confidence Trick.
On Suudny eveniug, says a late num
ber of a St. Louis paper, a well-dressed
young man called iu a West End Metho
dist church, and asked one of t he deacons
if he knew who had the collection money
of the morning service.
The deacon informed the young man
that the money contributed that morning
to the serv ice of tho Lord wiu at his re
sidence; and he added the inquiry:
May I a6k the reason of your question ?"
44 Certainly," the courteous young man
answered; "I attended the ministration
of the Gospel this morning at this church,
and, desiring to aid the cause, I dropped
my humble mite into the plate. I thought.
it was a silver piece of currency, but 1
find now Unit it was a piece of Canadian
money which I value highly as a pocket
piece." The worthy deacon recollected that a
piece or Canadian money was found
among the coins, and he told the young
man that there would be no trouble in
getting it. But at present the whole col
lection of money was at hia houe.
However, when he went home he would
pick out the particular coin and bring it
down town to his place of business the
next morning. The young man said to
save trouble he would call at the deacon's
house on Monday morning. This was
agreed to, and the deaoon's address was
given to the stranger. This wicked
yonng mau then went straight to the
deacon's house and made the bold state
ment that he had been sent for the morn
ing's collection to take it baok to churoh,
in order that Deacon might pick out
a certain valued coin which an old gentle
man had inadvertently dropped in. The
ladies of the household believed the
Soung man, and had they known where
le money-bag was kept they would have
handed it to him in all confidence; bnt
fortunately they did - not know. The
deacon's partner in business, who lived
in the house, was asked whether he knew
where it was kept- He did, bnt he pos
sessed to much worldly wisdom to be.
.taken in by the young man's story and
'good-looking faoe, There were about
ixty dollar in (He pojltftit,
v