THE " JEFFERSQMTAW;7" "
m - " - 1 i.i --. - -
Qcuotci to politics, literature, Agriculture, Science, iJTorolitn, ait encral 'Sntclligcncc.
VOL. 2G.
STROUDSBURG, MONROE COUNTY, PA., AUGUST 8, 1867.
NO. 20,
Published by Theodore Schocb.
TERMS Two dollars 11 year in advance and if not
pU bfif.ire ti'.e end of t he year, two uoljars and filfy
ets. will be charged.
No papertliscoiUinued until all arrearages nre paid,
except at the option of the Editor.
, 1D-V Heriiseinents of one squareof (eightlines)or
less, one or three insertions $ I 50. Each additional
lsertion, 50 cents. Longer ones in proportion.
JfOK PIHXTIXG,
OF ALL KIND8,
Executed in the highest style of the Arl.andontbe
most leasonible terms.
GEOKGE 1j. WALKER,
A larce number of Farms wanted.
Residence at John Kern's, Main street,
Stroudsburg, Pa
C. 15. KELLE!:,
DEALER IN
Boots, Shoes, Leather,
AND FINDINGS,
STROUDSBURG, Pa.
March 23, 1967.
J. L. WYCKOFP,
HUSZ & WULF,
COMMISSION DEALERS IN
Sutter, Esss, and Country
Produce,
No. 250 Washington Street,
Between Robinson &, Slurry streets.
March 21. 1867-ly. New-York.
S. HOLMES, Jr.
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, AND GENERAL
CLAIM AGENT.
STROUDSBURG, PA.
Office Kith S. S. Dreher, Esq.
All claims against the Government prose
cuted with dispatch at reduced rates.
An additional bounty of S100 and of
$50 procured for Soldiers in the late War,
TREE OF EXTRA CHARGE. -JQ
August 2, 1866.
Furniture ! Furniture !
McCarty's flew Furniture Stoie,
DREHER'S NEW BUILDING, two
doors below the Post-office, Strouds
liurg, Pa. He is selling his Furniture 10
percent. less than Easton or Washington
prices, to say nothing about freight or break
age. . May 17, 1566.-tf.
IF YOU WANT A GOOD MELODEON,
from one of the best makers in the Uni
ted States, olid Rosewood Case, warranted
5 years, call at McCARTY'S, he would es
pecially invite all who are good judges ot
Music to come and test them. lie will sell
jou from any maker you wish, 810 less than
Those who sell on commission. The reason
is he buys for cash and sells for the same,
-with less thin one-half the usual per centae
that agents want. J. 11. McCARTV.
May 17, ISCC.-tf.
UNDERTAKING IN ALL ITS BRAN
ches. Particular attention will be given to this
tranch of the subscriber's business. He will
Always study to please and consult the
wants and wishes of those who i rnploy him.
From the number of years experience lie has
iad in this Lranc of business he cannot and
-will not not be excelled either in city or
country. Prices one-third Jess than is usual
ly charged, from 50 to 75. finished Coffins al
ways on hand. Trimmings to suit the best
Hearse in the country. Funerals attended
at one hour's notice. J. 11. McCARTY.
May 17, 15GG.-tf.
MT. VERNON HOTEL,
M. &. T. P. WATSON, Proprietors.
No.'s 117 & 119 North SECOND Street,
(Between Arch and Itce,)
PHILADELPHIA, PA.
Close proximity to the business center of
the city, excellent accommodation, a nd care
ful attentien to the comfort and wants of
guests are characteristics of the Mount V er-
mon. The House has been thoroughly ren
Tated and new-furnished. Tha patronage
of the public is respectfully solicited.
October 11, 16GG.-lf.
Saddle and Harness
Manufactory.
The undersigned respectfully informs
the citizens of Stroudsburg, and surroun
ding country, that be Las commenced the
above business in Fowler's building, on
Elizabeth street, and is fully prepared to
furnish any article in bis line of business,
at short notice, On band at all times, a
large stock of
Harness, Whips, Trun7csf Valices, Car
pet Bags, Horse-Blankets, Bells,
Skates, Oil Cloths, Ac.
Carriage Trimming promptly attended
to. JOHN O. SAYLOR.
Stroudsburg, Dec. 14, 18G5.
Gothic Hull Dm" Store.
William fIo!Iiulicncl,
Wholesale and Retail Druggist.
KTimnnsiimtr, Pa.
V W JL J V "
) Constantly on band and for
sale cheap for cash, a fresh sup
ply of Drugs, Medicines, Paints,
Oil. Glass. Pnitv Vornul. K fr.
oseue Oil, Perfumery and Fancy Goods;
also
Sash, !!iml and Doors.
Pure Wines and Liquors for Medicinal
purpose.
P- S. Physicians Prescriptions care
fully compounded.
Stroudsburg, July 7, 18CL
nt Drs. JACKSON & BIDLACK,
PUISUIAXS AM) SURGEONS.
IRS. JACKKOV Jt, irrrr a rxr
' b uiiyjjnvii., use i
JL " DrenarpH tn tinj .1 -11 -n !
f f e . ""lu promptly w an cans '
01 a lrofessionul character. Office Op- I
April Z), lb07.-tf.
w
"DOWN HILL."
A LIFE PICTURE.
Not long since, I had. occasion to visit
one of our courts, and while conversing
with a legal friend, I heard the name of
John Anderson called.
There is a hard case," remarked my
friend. .
I looked upon the man in the prisoner's
dock. lie was standing up, and he plead
guilty y) the crime of theft. He was a
tall man, but bent and infirm, though not
old. His garb was torn, sparse and filthy;
bis face all bloated and bloodshot; his
hair matted with dirt, and his bowed form
quivering with delirium. Certainly I
never saw a more pitiable object. Surely
that man was not born a villian. I moved
my place to obtain a fairer view of his
face. He saw my movement and turned
bis bead. He gazed upon me a single in
stant, and then, covering his face with his
hands, he sank powerless into his seat.
"Good God!" I involuntarily ejacu
lated. Wil "
I bad half spoken his name when be
quickly raised his bead, and cast upon me
a look of such imploring agony that uy
tongue was tied at once. Then be cov
ered his face again. I asked my legal
companion if the prisoner bad counsel.
He said no. I then told him to do all in
his power for the old fellows's benefit, and
I would pay him. lie promised, and I
left. I could not remain and see the man
tried. Tears came to my eyes as I gazed
upon'him, and it was not until I had
gained'the street and walked some dis
tance that I could breathe freely.
John Anderson ! Alas! he was ashamed
to be known as his mother's son! That
was not his name but you shall know him
by no other. 1 shall now call him by the
name that now stands upon the records of
the court.
John Anderson was my school mate;
and it was not many years ago not over
twenty that we left our academy togeth
er, he to return to his home of wealthy
parents; I to sit down in the dingy sanc
tum of a newspaper office for a few years,
and then wander off across the ocean. I
was gone some four years, and when I re
turned I found John a married man. His
father was dead, and had left his only son
a princely fortune.
" Ah 0 ," he said to me, as he met
me at the railway station, ' you shall se"e
what a bird I have caged. My Ellen is
a lark a robin a very princess of all
birds that ever looked beautiful
sweetly."
or sang
lie was enthusiastic, but not mistaken,
for I found his wife all that be had said,
simply omitting the poetry. She was
truly one of the most beautiful women I
ever saw. And so good, too so loviDg
and so kind. Aye she so loved John
that she really loved all his friends. What
a lucky fellow to find such a wife. And
what a lucky woman to find such a hus
band; for John Anderson was as hand
some as she. Tall, straight, manly, high
browed, with rich chestuut curls, and a
face as faultlessly uoble and bcautilul as
evtr artist copied. And he was good,
too; and kind, generous and true.
I spent a week with them, and I was
happy all the while. John's mother lived
with them, a fine old lady as ever breathed,
aud making herself constant joy and pride
in doating upon her 14 Darling Boy," as
she always called him. I gave her an ac
count of my adventures by sea and land
in foreign climes, and she kissed me be
cause I loved her " darling." v
I did not see John again for four years.
I reached his borne in tho evening. He
was not in, but bis wife and mother were
there to receive me, and two curly-headed
boys were at play about Ellen's chair. I
knew at once that they were my friend's
children. Everything seemed pleasant
until the little ones were abed and asleep,
and then I could see that Ellen became
troubled. She tried to hide it, but a face
so used to the sunshine of smiles, could
ot wear a cloud concealed.
At length John came. His face was
flushed and his eyes looked inflamed, lis
grasped my hand with a happy laugh
called me "Old Fellow," " Old Dog,"
said 1 must come and live with him, and
many other extravagant things. His wife
tried to hide her tears, while his mother
shook her head and said
" He'll sow these wild oats soon. My
darling never can be a bad man."
" God grant it!" I thought to myself;
and I know the same prayer was upon
Ellen's lips.
It was late when we retired, and we
might not have done so even then bad not
John fallen asleep in the chair.
On the following morning I walked out
with my friend. I told him Fwas sorry
to see him as I saw him the night before.
"Oh," said he with a laugh, "that
was nothing. Only a little wine party.
We had a glorious time. I wish you bad
been there."
At first I thought I would say no more;
but was it not my duty? I knew his na
ture better than he knew it himself. His
appetites and pleasures blinded his own
vision. I knew how kind and generous
he was alas! too kind too generous!
" John, could you have seen Elleu's
face last evening you would have trem
bled. Ca you make her unhappy f" He
stopped me with
44 Don't be a fool; Why should she be
so unhappy?"
" Because she fears you are going down
hill," I toll him. 3
" Did she say so V be asked with a
flushed face.
" No I read it in her looks."
a reuecuon ot your own
thoughts, he suggested.
" I surely thought so when you came
home," I replied.
Never can I forget the look he crave me
tlren, so full of reproof, of surprise, and of
pain.
C , I forgive you, for I know
you to be ray friend ; but never speak to
me
again
iiivc ma 1.. x iroiuiruown 1 xou
know me better. That can never be. I
know my own wants. My mother knows
me better than Ellen does."
in, naa mat mother been as wise
as
she was loving, she would have seen that
the 44 wild oats which her son was sowing:
would grow up and ripen, only to furnish!
seed for re sowiDg ? But she loved him
loved him almost too well or I should:
say too blindly
But I could say no more. I only pray
ed that God would guard him ; and then
we conversed upon other subjects. I
could spend but only one day with bim,
but we promised to correspond often.
I had finished my meal, and was loung
ing in front of the hotel, when I saw a
funeral possession winding into a distant
church yard. I asked the landlord whose
funeral it was.
44 Mrs. Anderson's," he said, and as he
spoke, I noticed a slight drooping of the
head, as though it cut him to say so.
i( What John Anderson's wife?"
" No," he replied. 44 It is his moth
er;" and as he said this he trudged
away ; but a gentleman who stood near,
and overhead the conversation, at- once
took up the theme :
44 Our host don't seem inclined to
converse upon the subject" he remarked,
with a shrug the shoulders. 44 Did
Mrou ever know John Anderson J
44 He was my shool-mate in boyhood,
and my bosom friend in youth, 1 told
him.
He led me to one side, and spoke as
follows :
Poor John ! lie was the pride of
this town six years ago. This man open
ed his hotel at that time and sought cus
tom by giving wine suppers. John was
present at most of them the gayest of
the gay, and the most generous of the
party. In fact, he paid for nearly every
one of then.
Then he began to go down hill ! And
he has been going down ever since. At
times true friends have prevailed upon
him to stop ; but his stops were of short
duration. A short season of sunshiue
would gleam upon his home, and then
the night came, more dark and drear than
before. He said be would never get
drunk again ; yet he would take a glass
of wine with a friend ! That glass of
wine was but the gate that let in the
flood. Six years ago he was worth sixty
thousand dollars. Yesterday he borrow
ed fifty dollars to pay his mother's fune
ral expenses ! The poor mother bore up
as long as she could. She saw her son
her 44 Darling Boy," she always called
him, brought home drunk many times,
and she even bore blows from him ! But
she's at rest now ! Her " Darling" wore
her life away, and brought her gray hairs
in sorrow to the grave ! Oh ! 1 hope
this may reform him 1"
" But his wife f I asked.
44 Her heavenly love has held her up
thus far, but she is only a shadow of the
wife that blessed his home six years ago."
My informant was deeply affected, and
so was I, and I asked him no more.
During the remainder of the afternoon
I debated with myself whether to call
upon John at all. But finally I resolved
to go, though I waited till after tea. I
found John and his wife alone. They
had both been weeping, though I could
sec at a glance that Elleu's face was
beaming with love and hope. But oh !
she was changed sadly, painfully so.
They were glad to see me, and my hand
was shaken warmly.
44 Dear C , don't say a word of the
past," John urged taking my hand a sec
ond time. 41 I know you spoke the truth
to me five years ago. I was going down
hill! But I've gone as far as I can, I
stop here at the foot. Every thing is
gone but my wife. I have sworn, and
my oath shall be kept. Ellen and I are
going to be happy now."
The poor fellow burst into tears here.
His wife followed suit: and I kept them
company. I could not help crying like a
child. My Cod, what a sight! The once
noble, true man so fallen become a
mere broken glass, the last fragment only
reflecting the image it once bore 1 A poor
suppliant at the foot of Hope, begging a
grain of warmth for the hearts of himself
and wife! And how I had honored and
loved that man and how I loved him
still! Oh! I hoped aye, more than
hoped I believed he would behaved.
And as I gared upon that wife so trust
ing, so loving, so true, and so hopeful
still, even in the midst of living death
I prayed more fervently than I ever pray
ed before that God would hold him up
lead bim back to the top of the hill..
In the morning I saw the children
grown to two intelligent boys now and
though they looked pale and wan,' yet
they smiled and seemed happy when their
father kissed them. When I went away
John took me by the hand, and the last
words he said, were
" Trust me. Believe mo now. I will
be a man, henceforth while life lasts."
A little over two years more had passed
when I read in a newspaper the death of
Ellen Anderson. I -sorted fcr' ths towp
J where tlicj lived, as soon as possible, for
IT r r..i
x ujiiil uciu some one. i. jenriui
pre-
sentiment had possessed my mind
I stopped at the stately house where
- ) w asw wavi-a
they had dwelt, but strangers occupied itk with his hair rumpled, his chest collaps
4 Where is John Anderson ?" I asked. ed, and his back rounded out in the shape
" Don't know, I am sure. He's been 0f the latter C. "Such a headache !"
gone these three months. His wile diejl
in the mad-house last week.
And the children?"
" Oh! thev both died before she did.1
.1 1
I, JLI It .1
staggered back and hurried from the
, r 1 1 1 1 .
place. I hardly knew which way I went,
r.. -'
Hut inch nif lArl m A th. K .. . V. ... A
1 found four graves which had been made
1 Jn
three years. The mother, wife and
two children slept in them.
" And what has done this?" I asked
myself. And a voice answered from the
lowly sleeping places
But this was not all the work. No, no.
The next I saw 0, God! was far
more terrible? I saw in the city court
room. But that was not the last not
the last!
I saw my legal friend on the day fol
lowing the trial. He said John Ander
son was in prison. I hastened to see
him. The turnkey conducted me to his
icell the key turned in the huge lock
the ponderous door swung with a sharp
creak upon its hinges and I saw a dead
body suspended by the neck from a grat
ing of the window! I looked at the hor
rible face I could see nothiog of John
Anderson there but the face I had
seen in the court-room was sufficient to
connect the two; and I knew that this
was all that was left on earth of bim whom
I had loved so well!
And this was the last of the Demon's
work, the last act in the terrible drama!
Ah from the first sparkle of the red
wine it had been down down down
until the foot of the hill had been finally
reached.
When I turned away from the cell, and
once more walked amid the flashing sa
loons and revel-halls, I wished that my
voice had power to thunder the life-story
of which I had been a witness into the
cars of all living men.
Sensible.
At a social party one evening I met a
fair young friend, scarcely eighteen, from
one of the best seminaries in the State.
In the course of the evening we chanced
to be together with two or three newly
married ladies mutual friends, who
playfully rallied my friend of the semina
ry respecting a 4 beau.'
44 1 have none," she replied.
" Honestly ?" asked one.
44 Yes, honestly, and I do not wish or
intend to receive particular attention from
any gentleman until I leave school."
4
Why notf I asked demurely.
I will tell you," she answered, turn-
ing to
me with great seriousness. 44 1
thick it diverts one's attention from les
sons, to be thinking of, and writing to a
special friend. The poorest scholars in
school, each year, have been those girls
who were " engaged." They were all
the time thinking apd talking of, and
writing to, their gentlemen, and as a con
sequeuce their lessons were never learned,
and they took very little interest in school
exercises. Of course they arc minus of
much they ought to know. I cannot help
thinking that a girl needs a great deal
of knowledge, in oriler to read character
correctly, so that she may judge wisely
in so important a matter as matrimony."
44 Ah ! I guess she is opposed to mar
rying," laughed one.
44 Not at all. I hope to have an excel
lent husband some day, and I want to
know enough to be an excellent wife, you
see. Time enough for mo a year or two
hence. My education is the business in
hand now."
Sensible girl! School days are indeed
too precious, too important, to be trifled
away in
vain thoughts of vain men. E.
C. C. Stevens
Seasonable Hints.
The oil of pennyroyal will keep mos
quitoes out of a room, if scattered about
even in small quantities, lloaches are
exterminated by scattering a handful of
fresh cucumber parings about the house.
No fly will light on the window which
has been washed with water in which a
little garlic
has been boiled.
The great tabernacle of the saints at
Salt Lake city is now finished. It is two
hundred and fifty feet wide, and fur
nishes comfortable sitting room for ten
thousand persons.
To Remove Paint Marks from Dresses.
Solten it with any kind of grease, and
then apply spirits of turpentine or ammo
nia to remove the mark made with the
grease.
llev. Henry Ward Bcecher has said
that more public men of eminence started
from the business of type setting than
probably from any other occupation.
Twelve old ladies met at a tea-party, in
Palmyra, the other day. Their aggregate
ago was o'Ja years; the average, i.
The oldest was J3.
From the assessment rolls of the city
of New York for the year 18G7 it appears
that the value of the taxable estate for
the city and county is 5831,836,513.
The centre of tho United States has
been fixed at Columbus, Nebraska, nine
ty seven inilt:3 west of Omaha.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith's Headaches-A
Lesson lor bomeDooy.
"Such a headache as I have !" croaned
Smith bo ntpro.l tlm hrenkfast-rooni
,(PprhnM ;f na tha ,.. vnn nfp
fore going to bed," remarked his wife, as
vum, . invito UVtllill" UJUII3 HUOIt
' (v 1 r . A , ,
somethan cake before going to bed, cs
' ,-0ii imif 10 -.i
TieCiallV filUm-ClkO nnaworml Smith
answered Smith,
.
dropping into a chair.
Mrs. Smith, feeling indisposed at that
matitudinal hour for an argument, assent
ed. "Try a little tea," suggested she.
"Tea ! an old maid's remedy ; no tea
for me."
"Well, coffee."
"I don't think I want anything,"
groaned Smith.
"Oh, dear ! I'm going to have a day of
it!"
Mrs. Smith bad it on her tongue's end
to say :
"Well, that is the usual result of a
night ofit;"butshe closed her teeth
and bit off the exasperating and truthful
rejoinder.
"Isn't this room awful hot?" asked
Smith, opening six doors, without waiting
for her reply, which, if uttered, wcAild
have been that she was shivering with
the draughts.
Then seating himself at the table : "I
think I will have tea, Mrs. Smith ; it will
be sure to upset or cure me , it don't
matter which," he adds, with a despair
ing groam ; "and I may as well eat a
piece of beefsteak, while I'm about it
4in for a pound oh dear !"
"I think I'll come and sit in your
room, Mary," said Smith to his wife af
ter the tea and breakfast had gone down.
"It looks nice and pleasant, here, and I
like to stay with you when 1 have the
headache."
Mary turned her back, that he need
not see the smile lurking round her mouth
at the conclusion of hi3 sentence, and
brought a pillow to the sofa for his disor
ganized head.
"Not that no, not that ; it will only
heat my head, oh, dear ! Mary, (solemn
ly.) do you know I think I made a mis
take in eating that beefsteak ?"
Mary, with a heroism which should
place her name in "Fox's of Martyrs,"
did not reply :
"I knew it at the time, Smith, and my
only chance of preventing you from eat
ing was to refrain from asking you to eat;
so I didn't say so."
"Mary," said Smith, as she seated her
self to sewing, "Don't you think I should
feel better if I had a jug of boiling water
at my feet ?"
"Perhaps you would," said Mary, drop-
1 1 i.i- ! 1 .
ping uer upoois ana inimoie ana Duttons
on the Hoor to hunt up the jug and hot
water herself, for foinith had the opinion
that a wife should attend pcrsoually to
these things, although, three rreat ser-
vauts might sit sucking their thumbs in
the kitchen and cooking their heels on
the range.
"Perhaps you would."
"Mary," asked Smith, after this ar
rangement was carried out, "don t you
think this bottle miht be pushed a little
closer? I don't .feel it. except on one
foot." .
"Yes," said Mary, dropping her work
once more.
"Is that right ?"
"Oh, yes," answered Smith, rolling his
left eye in ecstacy, as the heat penetrated
the soles of his feet ; "how nice it is to
have you round when I am sick."
The same funny look came again round,
the corners of Mary's mouth, but Smith,
bless his obtuse soul, didn't see it.
"Mary," said Smith, "I think I cbuld
go to sleep now if you would close those
curtains aud things, and carry that d d
bird down stairs, aud shutout the light."
"Yes," said Mary, "and I'll take my
sewing in the next room."
"Do," said Smith.
And gathering up her work basket and
Smith's pauts, that had several vital but
tons missing, and which ho wished re
placed, Mary departed.
"Mary," said Smith, suddenly appear
ing at the door of the room where she had
seated herself, with his hair rampaut, and
blanket shawl sticking to his back, "it's
no use. I don't feel a bit better. I'm
sure I don't know what to do. Do you
really thiuk it was the cake ?"
Mary's patience was waning. "I know
it, John it always makes you sick.
Don't you recollect I asked you not to eat
it at the time ?"
"Well, all I can say is," said Smith, "I
don't believe it. Oh dear, where arc the
morningapers ?"
That was another way of asking Mary
to read them to him, which she did, aud
without saying, as Smith did oa similar
occasions : '
'Oh, there's nothing in the papers this
moruiug but the same old tariff discus
sions; in fact, they are quite dull here
they are perhaps you cau pick out some
thing for yourself."
Blessed bo the Lord ! At twelve,
Smith sank into arms of Morpheus, and
slept till three ; but alas ! waking, begged
for his wife and a washbowl. Both were
forthcoming, as also the expected result.
The rest of tho day, till dark, the blinds
were opened and shut ; tho bottle of hot
water on and off duty, and Mrs. Smith
stayed by to see him be sick. About
seven in the evening he despairingly
siguificd his wish to retire, addin
MT
"I suppose, of course, you don't fee!
sleepy at all ?"
"N-o," said Mary, looking from the
window at a lovely moon that was just
rising, 4'N-o, not very."
"Well," said Smith ; "don't como, if
you don't want to, but I can't sit up any
longer, and I have an idea I shall get to
sleep."
So Mary went to bed with her bearded
taby.
A week had elapsed. Smith was in good
health and spirits. He could smoke.
The world wasn't a charncl house, after
all. Mary was flat on her back with a
nervous headache.
"Sick?" asked Smith.
"Shocking pain in my temples," said.
Mary.' -
"Vhat a pity ?" answered Smith, par-'
ing his nails at the window, without
turning his head. "It's going to be such:
a lovely day quite like spring. Have?
you the least idea where my gray pants
are ?"
"No," said Mary, faintly, feeling for
the pillows, "I think in the" closet "
''So strange," paid Smith, "about'
those gray pants; I don't think they've
worn very well do you ? And do you
know, Mary, about the milk bill, whether'
it is right or not ? And. bv the wav. did
w 1 J - - j w
my shoes come home last night ? and haa
that man been to fix the front door V
"My Head aches so bad," said Maryr
"that I can't remember anything. Biddy
will tell you."
"Well, I'm sorry for you," said Smith,
tying his cravat at the glass. The very?
best thing for you is to keep quiet, and
I'll take myself out the way. Sleep is
the thing for you." So Smith put on his
heaviest -pair of boots, and went all over
the house, and lefthe door bang, and whis
tled the "Stars and Stripes," and ate his
breakfast, and then came up to her to dis
cuss the respective claims of pork and beef
and chicken for that day's dinner, clos
iug by another recommendation to 'keep
quiet and not bother herself about any
thing. "No better ?" asked Smith, reproach
folly, at six o'clock that evening; wao
better? I thought you'd be well, cer
tainly, this time, after a day's quiet."
Quiet? She had hadlhe whole kitchen
retinue after her all day, asking more
questions than there are in the assembly's
catechism ; and the frout door bell' ring
ing as if by order of the fire department j
but she had said nothing at all about that ;
if she had, Smith would have replied with
that lordly wave of his hand with which
meu dispose of such matters ; "You
shouldn't allow such trifles to trouble
you."
"No letter, then ?" Smith inquired, a?
if in gratitude to him he rally deserved a
modification of her former reply "no
better ? Well, sleep, after all, is the best
thing ; and, as I can't do anything for
you, I thiuk it is such a lovely night that
I will stroll out awhile. There, there,'
patting the end of the blanket "go to
sleep now." And close upon his retiring
heels she heard the thuudering bang of
the front door.
After divers and many comparisons be
tween male aud female headaches, and
the seeming iucongruity iu the male mind,
of the same course of treatment for both,
Mrs. Smith fell asleep, to be woke about
twelve by Smith, who thumped up stairs
in his boots, maue a raid after the cork
screw iu the cloet, and a paticular tumb
ler of a particular shape, he wanted in
connection with it; and advised her again
as to the efficiency of sleep, in cases of
female headache ; then filled the house
with the nauseating fumes of tobacco, at
an hour when it was impossible to air it.
Then Smith went to bed, and slept the
sleep of tho just, with not a glimmering
of an idea that he was not the unselflshcs
and loviugost of husbands. Indeed, had
his wife questioned it, he would have
pointed her to that column in tho daily
papers where accounts are given of hus
bauds who make it a practice to crack
their wives' skulls once a week ; and plac-.
ing his arms akimbo with a stern look,,
would have asked her with his nose close
to her face :
"What if she had such a husband aa
that?"
This World Cannot Satisfy.
Priuce Tailleyrand, who had served
fiHy years a great diplomatist, it
Frauce, under five different governments,
at nearly all the courts of Europe, a few
yenrs before he died made this melan
choly confession. He wrote it by the
lamp on his table in the chamber of hi
palace in the city of Paris, and it was
read when he expired :
"Eighty-three years of life arc now past
filled with what anxieties, what agita
tions, what vanities, what troubled per
plexities ! aud all this with no other re
sult than great fatigue, physical and mor
al, u profound scntimeat ui discourage
ment with regard to the future and ef
disgust for the past" thus proving that
this world, with it pleasures, its honors,
aud its gains, can aeyer fill up the heart
id' man. This tho ' life of God iu the soul
of uiau" aloue can accomplish.
Quite a number of persons out West
have lost large sums of money by holding
thoir wheat after it had reached very
high figures. Ouo mau in Wa&hingtou
lost three thousand dollars ou five thous
and bushels.
There uow remain undisposed of l.fo
lfS,0000 acres ef United States publU
lands.
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