Hates of Advertising. One .Sq'inro (1 i!ieh,)ono Insertion - i OnPiSiiaro " one month - - I! i ' One Square " three months - (! ( 0 OneSqnare " one yeur - - 10 0( Two Nq"Rres, one year l-r f o Quarter Col. --.- .!() (O Half -. - MMO One " " - - - - 100 00 Legal notices at established, rates. Marriage and death notices, gratis. All bills for yearly advertisements eo! leoted quarterly. Temporary advertise ments must bo paid for in advance. Job work, Cash on lelivoiy. 'A V : A in rrni.innn dviiiv wkim shay, bi O-. ZZ. WX3 1ST 2 J; omen is Ronton & rofiKEira bijileiko r.LM PTEEljT, TIOUraTA, FA. TERMS, $l.fO A TEAR. No Subscriptions roeoived for a shorter j.iii icl Hum three months. r.i ! p.J,)n,l,i,,nf,0 Holiclfpd from ail parts i the eonntiy, No notico will betaken of anonymous cmiinuiiieiitions. ( ' r 1 1 ' A A A; ,m!K WW WOT VOL. XIII. NO. 11. TIONESTA, PA., JUNE 2, 1880. ' $1.50 Per Annum. n t I W "V' vv y , mum. Husband Nine, That h 1o Bo. Thnnth I would r.nt jnako It, publio For a pockwtlul ol gold, Yet I'd ;ko to know a secret Tlir.t has never yot boon told ; In your ear now lot tna whispor IcRt my blushes you might see Thin: II I am to have a husband, Pray, who is tho nrin lor mo? Is bo palu or ;i ha ru Hy ? I an woak or Is ho strong ? Is lio flUa I with prou I amViliot? Or content to piod along T - Will ha make intt very happy? Tin a lottory, you'll a.reo, All ab-vit tHlt string) oui?n Husband, mine, th it is t.) hi! I ho sa l or is ho morry ? Is ha short, or U hstnll T Kye ol gray or bl ick or az iro Which will hold my Ijoact in thrall T Will he lova ma as no oihnr? And shall 1 at constant ba, 11 n l-sring Ii-tnj9 to tho helpmate Wont by heavoi to oomtort ma T IYay don't think ma bold or forward, For ns maiden in the land But would like tJ take a sly psop (.jHt lor fun you understand?) At tho " obi-mi " of the lutnrer- Tlmt dulintlul snystery, 'That so mtkos one's poor heart flutter . Husband mine, that is to be! M. A. ICilkr, in Bsldwi'n't Mint hly. FIFTEEN, F00BTE2N, THIRTEEN. It vrai on a blustering evening In Miu-chtliat Mr. Alexander Ashe, pus ins in his rapid progress tlirous;Ii one ol the tree-christened street9 which bisect the city of Penn, took from his pocket a letter, and holding it well up to catch the rtomewhat uncertain light of a lamp, studied the address with a zeal sharp ened by sudden apprehension. Confound Uncle N.-it I" . he mur mured. ' I wish he would learn to put tails to hia 5'n. 1314, no; 15U, no; that quid certainly must mean a 3. -Well, this is really too bad. It never occurred to me till this moment ttiat there could be a mistake, but oertainly it U 3, and cot 5. A nice business it would be to make a blunder in heiress bunting Pshaw! But it's to. please Uncle Nat. He's been good, to me in his way, the old fellow has, and I can't well refuse so slieht a favor as that 1 should call on these what's their names? Ashursts. even if he dors go on to air what lie calls hi," long-matured hopes'1 that the call ty lekd to something more interesting. It won't, though. J tever saw a girl Wilh money yet that wasn't altogether detestible. 1514, 1314 which is it P Never mind, this is Thirteenth Btreet; so much is certain Now let's 86 the house must be on this side. Perhaps the name is on the door. - By Jove! I never thousht of that. , Sure enough, the name was on the door ' siiurst" revealed plainly enough 1 y an opportune street lamp directly opposite; and Alex Ashe ran the bell, muttering to himself : " A good hit that It's lucky I didn't go off in search of 1514. Still, I wish Unoie Nat wou!4 mend the tails of bis5V ' A narrow entry presented itself to his view when the door opened, for the bouse was small, ard the misfortune of a small house is that each new-comor instinctively makes his measurements, and deduces from what , he sees the probable extent and compass of what he does not see. The ladies were at home," and a white-capped maid took his card into the parlor, and returning presently, ushered him in. What a pleasant room I" was his first thought as he entered. Not a "handsome parlor " in the least. lie was ussd to Uioso parlors where every mirror, bronze, curtain, and piece ot furniture was the exact complement of similar articles on the other side the party-wall on either hand ; where sohis and chairs wore tine clothes on occasion, and com uton petticoats for common days, and nothing seemed intended for use, com fort, or the indulgence of unauthorized or impromptu pleasures. This was a room of different type, not handsome at all in the conventional sense, but full of individuality and charm. Thick ru-like hangings of the cheap Abruzzi tapestry of Italy draped doors and win dows; the walls, of sole harmonious tint, were hung thickly with pictures and drawings, among which wandered, apparently at will, the shoots of a magnificent ivy. A bright lire of can-nel-coal shown in the low grate; there were books everywhere; the piano stood open, and strewn with music Bheets; a writing-table, heaped with papers, in one corner, and an easel and paints in another, showed that busy ' people used the room, and worked there when so inclined a thing not often permitted in parlors kept for show; and on the chimney-piece stood a bowl of fresh violets, which diQujed a spring-like odor about the place. Two young ladies, evidently listers, rose from seats beside the lire, and came forward to -receive the guest. The elder, who held the card between her fingers, had a sweet and sensible countenance.a remarkably pretty iigure. and a manner lull of gracious dignity and composure. She was of that type ot woman whom other women wonder that all men don't fall in love with: but they don't. The younger was in a totally Uiuerent style lair, round, brilliant, smiling, possessed of a thou sand untaught graces, which,' lent to her manner inexhaustible variety and caarin, but withal with the sunnv candor of a child shining in her clear kuie eyes. Amy Akurst was alto gether an en.-liuiJ.ing creature, and .ilex Ashe, biruek suid dazzled, mut tnred to himself, with sudden excite ment; "By Jove! Uncle Nat has hit it for once. Here is a girl with money who bcat9 hollow all tho eirls without any that I ever met. I am everlast ingly indebted to him." And while theso thoughts whirled through his mind, Miss Ashurst was enunciating her soft little sentences of welcome. " Wo are glad to see you, Mr. Ashe, and mamma will be very glad when she comes home. I am only sorry that she should happen to be out this even ing at Mr. Berguin's eerde, but thay al ways break up early. She had a letter from your aunt, I think it was, in the autumn, in which she said that there was talk of your coming here toward spring; but she named no time, and mamma did not know when to look for you." ' My uncle, probably. He is not mar ried. I had no idea, however, that he had written to Mrs. Ashurst so long be forehand, though he bade me call upon her without fail." "Your under" repeated Miss As hurst. doubtfully. " I thought I recol lected; but of course I might easily be mistaken. Pray sit down, Mr. Ashe. Oh, not on that chair; that is only com fortable for ladies. - -Try that big square one. What a blustering night it is!" " I thought so till I came in, but no one would suspect it from the atmos phere of your room, Miss Ashurst. What a delightful roomit is!" ' I am so glad that you think so,'" put in the beautiful Amy, whose voice was as sweet as her face., " Florence and I are always pleased when any one praises our rooms, because they are mamma's doing, and we think that she has the most perfect taste in the world." 4 Nothing could be pleasanter, I am sure. It is thoroughly individual, and yet has such a look of home, and that is not an easy look to produce in a city house, it seems to me." "No, it isn't; but mamma is a real wonder-worker; she always gives that look." cried Amy, eagerly, dimpling and Hushing, and looking twice as hand some for the pretty glow of pleasure. We hear occasionally of love at first siirlit, and we smile at the notion as ro mantic; but for all our disbelief and our derision, the thing does sometimes happen even in these matter-of-fact days, audit happened that evening in the case of Alexander Ashe. His ex cuse must be that nothing in the world was easier than to fall in love at first sight with Amy Ashurst. Apart from her beauty, and her remarkable charm of manner, which in itself would have been irresistible outfit for a far plainer girl, every moment spent in her company made it more and more apparent that this outward loveliness was but the ex ponent of a nature lovelier still, pure as her cheek and tender as her eyes." it would have required a tough he irt in deed, or an already occupied one, to have resisted her spell, and Alex Ashe had neither. He had been rather indif ferent to young ladies up to this time, and piqued himself a little as beauty proof ; out he melted like frost in sun under the influence of Amy's sunny looks, and with a feeling akin to that of the old woman ot the nursery legend, wondered if this were indeed he, as he drifted unresistingly on under the be witchment ol the occasion. Two hours sped like two minutes. It was ten o'clock before Mrs. Ashurst walked in horn her cercle. Her coming was like the breaking of a dream. She greeted, him cordially, but there was a little per plexity in her manner as she said: "I am very glad to see you, but somehow you surprise me a good deal. I was not prepared for anything 80 tall or, formed. You know, 1 recollect you as 'little Albert,' and your Aunt Carry never mentioned that you were so astonish ingly grown." ' "Albert Aunt Carry!" thought the mystified Alex ; and then, with a sudden sinking of heart, he began to surmise a blunder. " I do not quite understand," he stam mered. "1 Can there be I am half afraid I may have made a mis take, i am Alexander Ashe, not Al bert." Mrs. Ashurst looked more puzzled than ever. Florence blushed deeply. and became grave and embarrassed; but Amy's blue eyes met his frankly, with suuiiasparxleot kindly run in tuem that Alex tcox courage to go on. "fray let me explain," he said. "The mistake, if mistake there be, comes in this way. My uncle, Mr. Nathaniel Ashe, of Boston, whom possibly you may know by name, wrote me this note" taking it from his letter-case "in which he laid upon me his com mands to call on his old friends the Ashursts before I left Philadelphia. He should write in advance, he said, to mention my coming, so they would be prepared to see me. My uncle writes a blind hand, as you may perceive, and I was quite at a loss whether thirteen or htteeu was the number; and while I was casting about I found the name I was in search ol upon your doorplate. and made sure that 1 was right. Miss Asburst seemed prepared to receive a Mr. Asne, wulcn couurmed my impres sion, and so-- In snort, you see how it is, 1 trust, and will accept my assurance that the blunder was unintentional, and madd in perfect cood iaitn. "It was a perfectly natural one," g-jid Mrs. Ashurst, pleasantly. " And ISw pray resume your seat, Mr. Ashe, and let me explain in my turn. I have a dear old friend, Mrs. Galloway Cum' mings, of Newburyport, whose sister married Mr. Jcrancis Ashe, of Salem She wrote some months ago to sav that her young nephew, Albert Ashe, was coming on to study in the medical school of Philadelphia, and we have been looking for him in a vaeue way since February ; so when my daughters read your card, 'Mr. A. G. Ashe,' they naturally took it for granted that you were he. You see, there was a blunder on both sides, and we have apologies to make as well as you. ' "I cannot regret my share in the mistake," said Alex, rising to go, "since it lnis procured me one of the pleasant- e.-:t evening of my life." He glanced at Amy as us spoke. W as there a little answering gleam in her eyesP He half dared to hope it. " But about these Sal'jm Ashc," said Mrs. Ashurst, desirous to set him at ease, and end the interview without embarrassment, "are they your rela tives in any way?" "I am afraid it is a distant cousin ship, if any. uncle, I think, has spoken of some mnote connections at Salem or Marblehead, but I am not sure of the facts. And now I must wish you good-evening, with renewed apologies, and go in search of these other Ashursts, at 13 no, 1514. That will be two squares farther up in this same street, will it not?" ' Yes, and I think 1514 is Mr. Walter Ashurst's number. He is a distant con nection of my husband's, but we havo never met them. They are old residents in Philadelphia, and we new-comers,you must know. You see, we have mixed up obscure cousinships as well as names and numbers in this odd double misun derstanding of ours, Mr. Ashe." So, with courteous farewells, Alex took his leave, and finding it too late for further calls, went back to his hotel heavy-hearted, for with all her courtesy and pleasantness, Mrs. Ashurst had not asked him to call again. What could bo doneP for go he must and would; that he was resolved upon. His spirit rose when, a little later, he missed his letter-case. " I shall have to call to ask for it," he thought; and fortified by this reflection, went to bed and slept soundly. Next morning he devoted himself to the " other Ashursts," who were easily found. No. 1514 proved to be a man sion of pretensions, wide and ample, with bays, balconies, carved stone-work, a stable alongside, and in all respects belonging to the order of architecture known in newspaper parlance as the "truly palatial.'' Mr. Ashe was ushered . through a marble-paved hall into two dimly lighted and magnificent drawing-rooms, where rivulets of satin meandered down either side of lofty, close-blinded windows, and a parterre of huge pale-colored flowers from the looms of Aubusson covered the floor. Each gilded and carved chair and sofa wore a jacket of linen for the protection of its silken glories, each table and console boasted its unmeaning strew of costly trifles; chandeliers, pic tures, mirrors, all were swathed in tar latan as a protection from possible flies i while the family hearth was represented by a lacquered register which grinned uncheerfully from the midst ot a slab of marble, monumental apparently, which tilled the whole opening of the fireplace. This chill and gorgeous soli tude Alex had to himself for a quarter of an hour, before a rustling on the stairs announced the approach of the ladies of the family, and Mrs. Ashurst and her daughters appeared in a re splendence of French dresses. She, a stately dame of the conventional type, welcomed him graciously, and invited rum to dinner on the next day but one. It was but short notice to collect a party, she remarked, but they would do their best. The young ladies, three in number, were handsome creatures, very like each oilier, and like half a hundred girls whom Alex had met before. They talked enough for animation, and not too much for good taste ; their attitudes and movements were studiously grace ful they had shrill, high-pitched voices, and were so perfectly at their ease as to give the impression of having been born equal to every social emergency which could possibly arise in the course ot their lives. Alex mentioned his mistake ot the night before, and found the tale received witn ratner contemptuous amusemenli. There was a family of that name, Mrs. Ashurst believed, but she knew nothing about them. They lived near Thirteenth street, did I hey? Ah! very odd, to be sure. Hadn't she heard somewhere that they taught something or other P appealing to her girls. Miss Ashurst thought that they did, and with a faint very faint degree of interest asked, "Isn't one ot the daughters rather pretty?" after which the subject dropped. Alex Ashe was conscious of a sense of relief when, the call over, he found himself again in the street. "What tiresome women!" he muttered. Yet why were they bo tiresome P He had been familiar with just such women all his life, but never before had found them unendurable. "But then I had never seen Amy Ashurst," he medi tated. " Marry one of those girls ! Not if they owned the mines of Goloonda. and Uncle Nat went down on his knees to me." His call of inquiry after the note-case he timed so as to hit what he suspected to be the leisurely hour of the family, in the later evening, lie was fortunate : the ladies were at home, and evidently expecting him, lor the letter-case lay conspicuous on tue table, and Mrs. Ashurst began with apology. "I should have sent it to you had we known your address, but you gave us none, you remember." "I should have been most unwilling to give you that trouble; and besides" candidly " when 1 missed it, 1 was very glad, for it gave me a pretext for seeing you all again." He was so frankly handsome as he spoke, looking straight into Mrs. Ashurst's eyes the while, that she was great Iv pleased with him. " We are glad to see you, without any pretext," sho said. "And now, Mr. Ashe, sit down and tell us if your quest of to-day has been successful, if you have found your uncle's Ashursts, the real Simon pures." So began another evening of en chantment. This time when our hero took leave, Mrs. Ashurst cordially in vited him to come again ; and while he eagerly thanked her, Amy, taking the forgotten letter-case from the table. handed it to him, with a wicked little smile, saying. "You mustn't forget this, Mr. Ashe;" and he, quite unable to keep from laughing, replied, " Mo, since Mrs. Ashurst is so kind as to say I may come without an excuse; other wise I should try hard to leave it for the second time.' Other evenings fol lowed, each pleasanter than the last. There was the sweetest atmosphere about the mother and daughters, Alex thought; they were so cordial, so intel ligent, so unaffectedly fond of one an other. Little by little he gathered the facts of their history, nt from any for mal revelation, but by chance hints and casual allusions. Mrs. Ashurst, as he conjectured, had been left slen derly provided for on her husband's death, and with far-sighted wisdom had used her little capital in giving her girls a first rate education in Europe, with a view to their becoming teachers. They had but lately returned, and were not yet thoroughly at home in their own country ; but already Miss Ashurst was instructing large classes in French and German, and Amy giving music lessons to a number of pupils. Their evenings they kept free lor the enjoyment of each other and of the little home which they bo valued ; and entering into the spirit of this life, so bravely busy, yet so tran quilly content, Alex realized fr the first time what the charm of home may be, where each inmate has independent oc cupation, but where all interests are shared and united as only they can be in those homes where love is lord and king. He dined duly with "the other Ash ursts," and duly paid his " digestion visit," but there the acquaintance rested. The insipidity of mere fash ionable intercourse struck him so keenly, as contrasted with the domestic life he had iust learned to understand : the elaborate graces taught to worldly schools seemed so poor and shallow compared with " the mind, the music, breathing m the face" of Amy. that it struck him as sheer waste of time to devote his hours to them. "Who would care for a doll, though its clothes were of lace. And its pettiooats trimmed iu the fashion?" he hummed to himself, as he walked home after his second call at 1514; and from thenceforward he gave himself up with heart and soul to the cultivation of his " happy accident." Uncle Nat was grievously disappointed when his favorite nephew, after a stay in Y hila delphia so prolonged as to justify his most sanguine hopes, wrote to announce his engagement to an entirely wrong Mi9S Ashurst. A girl without a penny, sir, 1 give you my word," and it was long before the old gentleman could forgive the outrage. He never did for give it, in fact, till Mrs. Alexander Ashe came to Boston In propria persona, and then she made such a conquest of Uncle Nat as left him nothing to say in his own justification or to the reproach of his nephew. He lived to thank heaven for his own bad handwriting. "For." as he would explain. " if the tails of my 5's had been one whit less indistinct than they are, you would never have gone astray, in Hemlock street that night, my boy, and we 6hould never have had this little jewel of ours tor our own, and a sad thing that would have been tor us all hey, now, wouldn't it?" To which Alex Asbe repliedwith emphasis : " Rather !" Harper' Bazar. A Ceremonious Nabob. I have told you, writes an English traveler, very little about the nabob (pi tue (Jarnaticj, although no day passes without messengers from him in the morning to inouire how I sleet. and in the middle of the day to present ..: i. t r J . a t r . . ai;iiiiui iiuii aau nowers. lie insists oh my seeing these messengers with great silver sticks and returning my salaams by them, which is a great and grievous oore twice a day. After my first visit he sent me a dinner of at least fifty dishes, each of which was brought on the head of a black damsel. This feast was displayed on the floor of the colonnade, and I was brought forth to see the embroidered covers taken on, and to admire the cook-shop. I made my salaam, and the repast was devoured by LordWilliam's body guard. The present of a dinner is an established custom in the East. The nabob is a very fat, thick-bearded person, about thirty. At my first visit he received me at the door of my coach, having bar gained that I should do the like when he returned my visit. He embraced rue as soon as I was out of the coach with most affectionate huss, saying each time: "How d'ye do, governor general?" This I thought a very suit able salutation at our meeting, but it seemed less neat and appropriate at my departure, when, at the coach door, he repeated the four embraces, with " How d'ye do, governor general P" four times again. During the reception he sat on a sofa in a great hall, in which was also the rausnud or throne, I on his right side, Lord William on his left. Then our in terpreter made us mutually happy by assurances of each other's perfect health, and the nabob returned thanks to God for the health of the king, the queen. the Prince of Wales and the princes and princessess, the court of directors, the house of peers, and all the members of the house of commons, every one of whom I assured him I had left in the most bloomjng health. We were then still mor deeply affected by our extreme attachment for each other, and by the singular felicity of beholding each other's faces. Many other similar affairs of state w.?re trans acted between us, and when the pain ful moment for parting arrived, his highness dropped a few drops of attar of roses on my handkerchief, then sprinkled me profusely all over my best Vienna embroidered coat with tobs water, saying affectionately that he knew he was spoiling my coat (but what is a coat to tho ehusions of friend ship?). Then he put on my neck a gar land of white nowers, gave me two packets of botelnut and then two roses The first thing a man does when he rpt mitt'eil at. IiM lnral r.nnsr hpriinA it failed to notice in pica type that he naa wmtewasnea nis uen-iiouse, is to come in and order it stopped, just as though the whole concern would stop because one paper had Deen aiscon tinued. Waterloo Observer, Street Lights. In the reign of Louis XIV., one of the most magnificent spectacles was sup posed to be the general lighting of the streets of Paris. The world was invited to witness the novel scene. It was be lieved to be the highest achievement of ropdern civilization neither the Greeks nor the Romans seem to have thought of the wonderful invention. Yet the lights of the great city consisted only of oim lanterns and torches, dispersed at distant intervals, and, compared with the bright glare of modern gas, would have seemed only a dusky gloom. Whether the Greeks and Romans lighted their cities at night is still in doubt. It is probable that Rome, except in rare instances of festive illuminations, was left in darkness. Its people, when they went out at night, carried lanterns or torches, or else wandered, in moonless nights, exposed to robbers and stum bling over obstacles. Antioch. in the fourth century the splendid capital of the Fast, seems to have set the example of suspending lamps through its princi pal streets, or around its public build ings. Constantino ordered Constanti nople to be illuminated on every Easter eve with lamps and wax candles. All Egypt was lighted up with tapers float ing on vessels of oil at the feast of Isis ; and Rome received Cicero, after the flight of Catiline, with a display of lan terns and torches. Yet the practice of 1 , 1 - i 'l. naming up a wuoie cr.y at mgui seems, in fact, a modern invention. Paris and London dispute the priority of the useful custom. At the opening of the sixteenth century, when the streets of Paris were often infested with rob bers and incendiaries, the inhabitants were ordered to keep lights burning, af ter nine in the evening, before the win dows of their houses; in 1558, vases filled with pitch and other combustible matter were kept blazing at distant in tervals through the streets. A short time af:erward, lanterns were provided at the public cost. They were at first only employed during the winter months, and were Boon kept constantly burning. Reverberating lamps were next invented, and were usually surrounded by throngs of curi ous Parisians. In 1777, the road between Paris and Versailles, ior nearly nine miles in length, was lighted ; and in the present century, the French metropolis has steadily improved its street lamps, until the introduction of gas made the streets of Paris as bril liant by night as by day. its light was never quenched until, in its recent humiliation, its glittering boulevards and sparkling parks were hidden in unwonted gloom. London claims to have lighted it streets with lanterns as early as 1414, but the tradition . seems doubtful. About 1CG8 the citizens were ordered to place lamps in front of their houses every night during the winter; but as late as 1736 the rule was imperfectly obeyed. Robbers filled its narrow streets, and life and property were never secure in the darkness, (jas lamps were next introduced, at the public expense; the number was rapidly increased, and toward the close of the last century the citizens of London were accustomed to boast of tueir magnificent system of street-lamps, which far surpassed that of Paris. The roads running from the city for seven or eight miles were hoed with crystal lamps. At the crossing of several of them the e fleet was thought magnificent; and what would now be a dim and dismal array of smoking lights, seemed then one of the wonders ol the time. Novelists and poets celebrated the nightly illumination of the over grown capital. Vienna, Berlin, and other European cities followed the ex ample of Paris or London, and New xork and fhiladeiphia early adopted the custom. Rome alone, still clinging to the usages of the middle ages, re fused to light its streets; the popes steadily opposed the heretical inven tion, and preferred darkness to light. At length came a wonderful advance. For three centuries civilization had prided itself upon its lamps or lanterns; it was now to shine in novel brilliancy. The Chinese, who seem to have origi nated without perfecting most modern inventions, had long been accustomed to sink tubes into beds of coal, and carry its natural gas into their houses, and even their streets, lor the purposa of illumination. They also used it for manufactures and cooking. But they had never discovered the art of making gas. In 1792, Mr. William Murdoch first used gas for lighting his otlices and house in Redruth, Cornwall. The Birmingham manufacturers at once adopted the invention. The unparal leled splendor of the light at once at tracted public attention. The peace of 1802. transitory as a sudden lllumin ation, was celebrated by the lighting of the factory of Watts and Boulton, at Bir mingham, with a flame that seemed to rival the brightness ot the stars. The invention spread over the world. Lon don, ashamed of its once boasted array of endless lamps, now glittered with hundred of miles of gaslights. Paris again called the whole world to witness its tastelul illumination. The cities ot the new world lighted up every coiner of their busy streets. Even Rome yielded to tho useful invention. Doctor Lauder Lindsay in his new book, " Mind in the Lower Animal in Health and Disease," observes that " even as regards man himself it must be borne in mind that there are count less thousands many whole races that are intellectually and morally the interiors of many well-trained main mals, such as the chimpanzee, orang, dog, elephant or horse ; or birds, such as the parrot, starling, magpie, jack daw and various crows." Mamma seeks to console her crvjng child. " Why do you cry, John? What ha hurt your ' "Mamma (and he bawls more lustily than ever), yester day I fell down and hurt myself." esterday ! Then why do you cry to day P" "Oh, because you vere not at home yesterday." Sometime. Sometime! Sometime? Luring cry! Chiming, rhyming, over and over, Out from the heart-tree branches hih, Where birds ol promiso flutter and fly, Now nesting low in the hof eyed clover. Now soaring np to the voicolul sky ; Sweetest prophecies soltly singing, Soltly sweet, liko the voice ol a lover; Rythmic measures roundly ringing Hinging singing over and over. Tenderly, gladly, floats the cry Sometime, dear heart! by-and-bye! Sometime! Sometime! Birds in my breast. Chanting lays ot a glad to-marrow, Out Irora a broken, desolate no it, Bravely rearing each golden orest, Flaunting your wings in the lace of sorrow, Singing the while of coming reBt, Further than mine your gaze is reaching! Let me your prescient cunning borrow ! Answer make to my sad beseeching; Comes there indeed a glad to-morrow ? Is it ior me ye soltly cry Sometime, dear heart! by-and-bye ? Lucy Marian Blinn. ITEMS OF OTEREST. Two persons die every second. Slow rivers flow four miles per hour. The average human life is thirty-one years. During the past thirty years 2,500 000 people Lave emigrated from Ger many. The young man of the period wears a queer-looking high hat, but then, you know, that's his tile. New York Mail. Boston has seven colored lawyers, six of whom are in active practice, one ot them being a graduate of the Harvard law school. The lower jawbone of a mastodon has been found in a sand bar in the Loup river, about twenty-five miles from Kearney, Neb. When a deep sleep falls on a man h does not mind it so much as when a tew square yards of plastering come down or a chimney tumbles over on him. Keokuk Gate City. When you see a man take off his hat to you it is a sign that he respects you. But when he is seen divesting himself of his coat you can make up your mind that he intends you shall respect him. Statesman. A mining company at St. Clair, 111., dispensed with the services ot a hun dred men at $1 a day by the use of labor-saving machinery ; but they em ployed fifty men at W a day to guard the apparatus. Remains of lake dwellings have been A iaimrnxA) in a nflaf HtflP nOQT 1 1 JlTl - and in a street in Milan excavations for house have brought to light what are believed to be vestiges of the old Roman theater. This year's Russian famine. Bays a Berlin dispatch to the London Standard, mainly aflects the Caucasus, in nun dreds of Armenian and Mohammedan villages the whole of the inhabitants are dead. The Russian press dare not allude to the subject. A drunkard fled into the woods near Nashville, Tenn., while wild with de lirium tremens, dug a grave and was found lying in it dead. His wife was made frantio by the sight and she loudly called upon heave i to let her die, too. ft happened that on ner way nome lightning struck and killed her. Onlv a woman's hair, Binding; the now to the past, Only a single thread Too frail to Iat. Only a woman's hair Threading a tear and a sigh, Only a woman's hair Found to-day in the pie. Sleubenville Herald. " Strong Jamie." The Berwickshire journals in 1844, gave much information concerning this remarkable man. jnougn snori oi stature.he possessed prodigious strength, which earned lor him the familiar cog nomen ot " Jamie Strang," or "Strong Jamie." A writer in the Berwick Ad vertiser said: "We have heard him state that the greatest weight he. ever lifted from the ground was lu5 stone.and that he had lifted eighty-five stone with one hand. When the Forfarshire mili tia were encamped at Eyemouth, he went to see an acquaintance among them. While there, a dancing-master was boasting much of his strergth, whereupon one of the soldiers, knowing Stuart, engaged to piovide a drummer who would lift more than the boaster c.uild. Stuait, dressed as a drummer, was brought in. A piece of ordnance wis lying before them which the dancing-master raised to the perpendicular, and then allowed to fall. He asked the drummer whether he could do that. Stuart pretended that he was not very sure that he could ; but placing his arms round the cannon, he raised it entirely from the ground, and carried it to some distance. At another time, when at Velvet Hall, near Berwick, some countrymen were laboring to get a cart laden with hay out of a miry bole into which by some accident it had stuck fast. Stuart was appealed to for assist ance. He desired them all to stand aside, and, going underneath the cart, removed it with its load to the opposite side of the road." This extraordinary man (it is averred in many quarters) actually went fiddling about tho country till nearly 114 years old. A .small sum was then collected for him, toward which the queen and the late Sir Robert Peel contributed. Stuart declared that he " hadna been sae weeloff this hunder year." At length his career closed, iie died at TweedmouLh on the eleventh of April, 1844, and was buried on the four teenth in the presence of a vast con course of spectators. The Berwick tf veriiser, few dsys afterward, contained an advertisement relating to statuettes. of the veteran .T-Ciumiera Journal,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers