1 Hates of Advertising. One Square !1 ln li,) one iiiKertion - $1 One Square " mm month - - 3 (iC OneSquare " ihrce nionHm - rt 0(1 One Square " one year - - 10 Oi. Two Squares, on year - 1" Of; Quarter Col. ---- m Of. Half .. - 50 00 One " .--- 100 00 Legal notices at established rale". Marriage and death notices, gratis. All bills for yearlv advertisement ' ! looted quarterly. Temporary ndvcrfb'. ments must be paid for in ndvfince. Job work. (JuhIi on delivery. JIN3 w ( L. XIII; NO. 47. TIONESTA, PA., FEB. 10, 1881. $1.50 Per Annum. mi 1 f Pacini r Ion t3 S u fly in ery feet HO (I ned Imo ac. rec- Det lm- Wro irra I in lesa, and pii- nale the , by e's ' II dve ffs: aey ik a' et le I , ,U1B "I ;ic'. on Vvly nob ies: wira For d; me rol. 1 1 For , tale ney - TOf Uy t Jd u ta On, ; Bwilt j ' - . Pleasure, dimnnye--!, bohob' - ?bei. hurry on; Anil love, strong love, loi l s back throngh pafwionate tenia; Like tlie bright meteor that scarce appears, Soon ere they cone. Oh, the fleet hour. ! Why, what is man ? thoir poppet em!, their slave; , At first hi letters wreathing with fair flowers Then galled and worn an-1 rctibed of all his , powers, . , Gaining a . . Vale ! we cry, . Watching in youth the sweet June roses fall; They blnoiri i -ain buisll matter it they die, Ah ! yi.a, thoy bloom; bnt canker worms will 1 be, , Doubt not, in all. Vale! The word litter has smitten us with mortal pain ; Rung out the doath-knell ol dear hope, or stirred 1 ! lips whose earthly voioos may be heard Never again. Then does it wake Sad recollections, haunting thoughts that grieve; We know the cruel wound some iarewella make, ftre learn to dread the nothingness, the break Farting may leave. So the years run ! Vale ! we soon must bid this briel estate; But for that heritage which shall be won When the treed soul with time itsell has done Trusting, we wait. T)tt Jlrfoiy. HIS REWARD. " Yoa are moBt unjust, Charles, and I know the Lord will one day sting your conscience for your cruelty, and your heartlessneBs toward that dear child." The speaker was a comely lady of about fifty, tall, slim, and upright, and neatly clad in widow's weeds. Charles Pemberton, her eldest son, a handsome, stalwart young man of eigbt-and-twenty, whom she addressed, answered impatiently: " Confound the boy, I wish he was dead." , He did not mean that; for he loved his little brother, and delighted to make him happy, But his mother had a fatal I'M ity oi tonguo, and for the last three lews she had been attacking him on i i'i 9 subject -with agirressive meekness. Apd now, out ."f his grief and his impa- .vnco, he flung forth those bitter words. iini'irywua uirase.i as ue Old so, and Wol eto leave the room, lest his over f wilouvht temper should botray him fii.lUif r. His mother flung a parting sU A 'ct him. ; v a may have your wish sooner thsAu on ex nect, Charles, and more than thhlt. lie will probably not trouble you many years, lor he is very delicate: and 1 shall not outlive him very long. The a I suppose you will bo happy." Charles Pemberton saw the cambric prepared for the shower, and shudder ing lied; whereupon Mrs. Pemberton etired to her bedroom to pray that her as tiara fieurt migut be soltened. Aad then; from a curtained recess at e end. of the room, there came a little 07 ofl treive, vntn blanched, serious hftif rarted lips, and wide dark s. ow:;ra the close of Mrs. Pein ton'stlecture he had entered the room 'an open window, unpercoived. and. Sin? that ha was the subject of the Jl, j ,.1'ounw, . iind concealed himself. w-i hail in ;i! V onlv the concuding Vwords, M tbey chilled his very lite- oiwu. iia btooii now witn one band clutching the curtain, t oo Chfiri''" wj-' I wp.s dead, does hfr 9 1 am going to die U iieasn wonder vVhat coin? t, die. till- ut 1 won't. I iier thmk I am only said it hy should he ihought he was : he was nearly sob, which he '"cy.1 ' I won- Iftnu V nt: I'm yjtJllOklV- V; -r breakfast, Aien the inci t .iking a ball, bhLher, who taul I t of the previous d.iy d'tut: " oet your t J eddy,and hive half an hour's practice. tljey were vnlkin down to the 'ldward suddenly startled his ei by asking: Vould it be any good to you if I lead.tharles ?" xd to me' Why, Teddy, what I tliinmng oil" ill, yesterday you said you wi Vaii ; and you wouldn't wish ahed that Vld be no jioou to you would i stepped abruptly, and said, 'nnesa: "Who Uld you thatP'' idy. I just came into tlie room Vd it. hud you dMa't see me. since I have been wondering 'iiberton flun away the bat was carrying, and clasped hia arui9, kissing him, and u, like & girl with a new ly, Teddy, Teddy," he said : j tongue bad been torn out ts betore I fcd said such a , 1 didn't mean it, Tedd' , You pjjht I pitiint it, did you? I wou i.'m't lose you for all " itle playfellow, my for me to com . nd when I have pened that I vlal I didn't ou know for rnuot fiii ;'.'t 'her thai 1 .and that aooi, and "Hill ; and that I didn t care for you, and lectured n.n prided me all the afternoon, and then I forgot myself which I ought not to havo'done, for I know it is only her love that makes her over-anxious and I said those hateful words, that Itnever, never, never meant, Teddy." " I thought you never could man it, Charles," said the little fellow. He had borne up with wonderful stoicism till now, but the overwhelming sense of re lief was too much for him, and be began to weep and sob convulsively. Shortly, he sprang up and slasped bis brother s neck, saying: " I'll go to nchool, Charlie, and I'll do just as you like, pnd you'll see if I won't be a man, and I'll win the Greek and Latin prizes, too, if I can ; but you know I'm not clever, Charlie, so you mustn't be disappointed if I don't do that all at once, will you P" " I'll trust you, Teddy, my boy, to do the best you can, and none of us can do more than that. I shall miss you sore.y, Teddy, but there'll be jolly long holi days, you know, and we shall have pleasant times together thea. And now come on and let's see how you'll guard your wicket. If you don't do me credit as a cricketer, I'll sit on you." The poor lady's heart was very sore when her boy had gone, and she felt herself alone, and many and dread were the misgivings that darkened her mind. And Charles, too, felt himself alone. Mrs. Pemberton's married life had been outwardly calm and uneventful ; but she was out of sympathy with her husband, a man of easy, jovial tempera ment, who scarcely noticed her cold ness, and never troubled himself about it; and she had soutrht consolation in religion. She had fallen under the in fluence of certain meek persons, who held that "the world," and things of the world, were forbidden to them. When her husband died, leaving her only a life-interest in a moderate prop erty, and making his eldest son sole guardian of the boy, she had made some efforts to win over Charles to her views; but his honest, htalthy nature, was absolutely impervious to these nar row notions ; he was, according to the jargon of her sect, " given up to a re probate mind," and day by day the icy crust of reserve in which she lived be came thicker and denser; and it was rendered more hafd by the feeling of bitterness inspired by the provisions of her husband's will. Charles felt all this acutely. He tried to be, and he was, a good son, but all attempts at filial con fidence were repulsed. The kind of fatalism which she had accepted made her bow with resignation to tho will which had decreed the eternal perdi tion of her elder son. in common with that of the overwhelming majority of the human race; but with something of inconsistency Bhe prayed with passion ate earnestness that ber younger son rnisht be given to her, and might be gat hered into the fold of the elect. The boy throve at school. His health, now thai he was freed from maternal coddling, improved rapidly. As waa to be .expected be did full justice to his brother's diligent coaching in athletics, and what no one had expected, he devel oped a wonderful faculty for mathe matics. Nothing could be more satis factory than the reports of his conduct and progress; and npthing brighter and more beautiful than the lad's healthy confidences with his brother in his happy holidays, when he described his school life and the young hopes and am bitions kindling within him. When the term of Teddy's school life was drawing to a close the head master of the school strongly urged that he should go to Cambridge; and the lad himself, pleased with the idea, was en couraged in his desire by the fact that the dearest of his school friends had just entered there. ' But this was an extension of the educational course which had not been contemplated. By the will of his father, only a very moderate sum had been assigned for the boy's education, and this had already been doubled by Charles out of his own limited means in order that he might have the advan tages of a superior school. If he went to the university, the funds must come entirely from his elder brother, who would have to deny himself in many ways to arrange matters. And it was especially hard to do at this time, for the opportunity had just occurred of purchasing on advantageous terms some fields on which he had long looked with an eye of rational desire. . Mrs. Pemberton i 1 been liking forward with hungry -,ire to tue clos ing of the chaptei ui Teddy's school experience. He was still young and ioupres: ible, and she would have op portunities daily and hourly of guiding bis thoughts in the only dire tion in which, according to her- viet s, they could be profitably employed. der na ture, which hardened more ar 3 more to all . the rest of the 1 world, c.jiioenti e,ted all its tenderness and af U'cUun on this boy: and her dearest hope on this side of the grave wa?vtbat itmiiht bo through her instrumental ity that he Btiouid separate himself from the world, even as she had done. When, therefore, Charge announced to her his intention of sending the boy'to CambriJ it was to her a cruel and a bitter bio-.- For a few moments she sat in silence. the gloom deepening on her lace, and her heart growing icier than ever within her. ' "It will not be with my will or with my consent," she said at length, " that he goes, liut, I know my will and my wish have no weight with you, and that you delight to thwart them." "Kay, mother," said he, mildly, "I am thinking only of Teddy's good. It would be far pleasant r for me to have him at home, but both Dr. Vardv and Mr. L'Oste have assured me that Teddy ha remarkable abilities, and that he ought t go. The boy himself is eager to go; and I know he will distinguish himself, if honest work can bring him distinction." "And what good,'.' fihe flashed out, "will hi distinction do himP ' Knowl edge pvuteth up.' and it shall vaniab ih'Si i b-.w l.- to know, and of that he is likely to learn little among gay and thoughtless youths, whoso homes are all of this world. You arejwilling to gratify your own small and worldly ambition, by facrificing the boy's only true interest." "Mother." he pleaded. "I wish you would be a little more reasonable" "Ay, ' reason V" she broke in. "Reason is the will-o'-the-wisp that leads you astray, not only to your own undoing, but that of others. You think yourself wise; and you may be wise in the ways of this world, but God has said, "I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, I will bring to nothing the under ttanding of the prudent.'" She was ready with quotations at every turn to justify herself, and to con demn rerson. He would gladly have avoided giving her pain, had he known how to do so, tut having made up his mind as to what was best for the lad.he did not Bhrink from carrying it out; and as he walked the fields alone, month af ter month, he was oppressed by a dull sorrow, which he was compelled bo bear in utter solitude, for to no living soul could he complain of bis mother. His only consolation was, that in his college career Teddy fully justified every expec tation that had been formed of him. His Inst Ion? vacation had come, aad he was to spend it with his old school cbum, who had been hia dearest friend also at college, but had left the univer sity in the previous year. Turcnne Jer mjn was a young man whose friendship was worth having, clear-headed, fnund hearted, of exuberant vitality. He had often heard from Teddy of " dear old Charlie," and in arranging for this Ion? vacation an earnest invitation had beim given that he should join them. It ofleied a tempting break in a dull, monotonous life, and was accepted. Sir Frederick Jermyn's seat lay on tho slope of a lovely Berkshire hill, shut round by woods, but overlooking a wide and charming landscape. As Charles Pemberton passed the lodge gates, and saw on either side the evidences of wealth and Focial station, he began to regret his acceptance, feeling that he would scarcely ba at his ease amid sur roundings bo much above his own homelier state. The cordiality of his welcome, however, soon chased away these misgivings, and he had not been many hours at Wilmore Court before a new set of feelings took possession of his mind. He had exchanged greetings with Sir Frederick, Turenne, and his brother, was reading, with their assistance, the noble view from the window, when he was suddenly conscious of another presence in the room, and turning beheld Miss Jermyn, concerning whom, curiously, Teddy in his letters had said nothing, but w hose presence, as he thought, made of the hall a temple. Not that she was a beauty. A fair-haired girl, with large gray eyes and rather blunt features, there was nothing of classic grace about her: but in every line of her fair face t here shone the light of a beautiful soul. There was a faint flush on her face, and two good little dimples marked her p osant smile, as, looking straight into his f with frank, clear eyes, she held out Jjli. hind to greet him, and made a captive of him forever. Your brother," she said, " is already one of the family, and he has made you so well known to us that I teel as though I were welcoming an old friend." Thank you very much," said he. "I hope I may yet be privileged to give you batter reason for regarding me as such." That night, as he sat in hisroom.long after the household was asleep, he could but ask him.-elf, with a beating heart, whether it were possible that there was in store for him a compensation for much weariness in his life hitherto, so immcasureably rich as the love of this irl. Was he too old to hope for such liasP He was barely thirty-seven in years.and he was younger in that he had never been hackneyed in the ways of love, and his heart had never bowed ta a meaner passion. Whep he descended next morning, there was the light of hope and love in bis face. "Why, Charlie," exclaimed Teddy, "how younjr you look! If you grow backward at this rate while you are at Wilmore Court, mother will hardly know which is which." He watched Teddy and Lilian in frank and happy Intercourse, and thought with delight that they were already as brother and sister. Her manner to him was c Aitideiitinl, almost atletionate He was sure of hi3 ground; more and more sure each day until the very last, on the eve of which he sat in his bed room, musing much, for he had deter mined that lie would know his fate on the morrowr There was a tap at the doo "Come in." he cried, and, turning, saw his brother, with a brilliant flush on his face and a strange fire in his eyes. "Charlie," said he, in a voice that quivered with some deep feeling. " I want to tell you something." "Ye8,"said he, kindiy, and scarcely noticing these signs of unusual emotion. ." And I have, I think, something to tell yon. What is your news?" Teddy walked to fhe window, and stood there, looking out for a few sec onds before be asked, speaking abruptly, and without turning: "Charlie, what do you think of Lilian Jermyn P" Had the boy then discovered his secret, and was he coming to urge him to the step on which he bad already de termined P His agitation was eo great that he could scarcely find -Aords to speak, but he began to ans wcr slowly, in low tones : " I should, perhaps, have spoken to you earlier, Teddy" The young man turned to him impul sively. " Ah!" he exclaimed, " you have seen it all. I might have known that, dear old brother. Charlie, bless me, con gratulate me. make much of me; she has promised to be my wife." He had thrown hid arms round his elder brother's neck io the old childish way, and was for a nvnent or bo inco herent in his joy; 1, aid not obscrw , if he did Qr V:, attribute wrong cause hia brother's emotion, though he felt in every fiber of his frame a thrill of grateful recognition as his brother kissed his forehead and said: "God bless you, Teddy, and make you worthy of such a treasure." An ftour later, as Teddy waa leaving him, he said : " Oh, Charlie, there was something you were going to tell me. What was it!" "Oh, that was a small matter, we will not mix it with your joy to-night." A Broker's Romance. It is a very touching incident. We heard a Southern editor telling it on an elevated train yesterday and he wasrin a great hurry to get home and put it in his paper and make an affidavit that it was true. The scene of the romance opens in a palatial mansion in New York. A lady sits in a parlor filled with the most costly luxuries. Diamonds as bic as filberts glitter in her ears. Lace costing $36 per yard almost hides the color of ner dress from sight. A clock costing $18,000 strikes the hour 4 p. m. At this moment her husband rushes into the house, pale, haggard, suspenders broken, hat bunged up, and his boots all mud. ' " Have you have you caught the epizootic P" she gasps, as she starts up. "Oh, wife! we are busted ruined gone up Bmashed flat as a shingle!" he moaned In reply. "How." " I invested $75,000, in tlie Crooked River railroad at 98, and it has declined to 4! Jay Gould hps bought and con solidated it! We mubt leave this palace and all these luxuries and works of art and take two fourth-story rooms over in Brooklyn." She laughed merrily and long. Had the sudden news ere zed her P He thought it had: bur he was green. She left the room for a moment and then returned with a pillowcase containg $200,000 in greenbacks. " Let the Crooked River railroad crook away!" she laughed, as she emo tied the money at hia feet. " You have given me this money during the past live years, a few thousand dollars at a time, to buy little articles for toilet. I had saved it up to get me a pair of stoc kings for Sunday, but I cheerfully hand it over to my good husband to set bun on his pins again. Take it, my dar ling, and if you can get a whack at Jay Gould bite him hard, and I'll back you with the $50,000 I had laid away to send to the heathen." Tiiey embraced. All was joy and peace.-- Wall Street News. The Banana. The Cuba correspondent of the Bos ton Commercial Bulletin writes: The manner in which the fruit is developed is quite interesting. From the midst of the leaves and at the top appears a large, smooth, purple cone hanging down gracefully at the end of a staUt. The flowers are all wrapped up in this cone, which consists of a large number of closely packed snathes. By-and-bye the uppermost of these spathes disengages itself from the rest, curls up and dis clones a row of three or four long blos soms, with the young fruit ol each be ginning to form . While this row of fruit is tender the spathe remains hanging over it like a roof, but when the fruit has acquired some size and strength the protecting shield drops oil and the next in order rises up with a similar row of young fruit over which it stands in the same watchful attitude till it also drops off, to be succeeded by another. When one circle of fruit is completed another is commenced below, and in due time another, while the common stem around which the fruit is disposed grows constantly longer, and the cone of spathes diminishes in size, till it is all unfolded, and a monstroas bunch of bananas is finished, which seldom weighs less than twenty or thirty and sometimes as much as seventy or eighty pounds. Of all kinds ol vegetable nutri ment the banana is perhaps the most productive, and most easily raised. After a plant has produced its bunch of fruit the stem is either cut or is suf fered to wither and fall on the spot. In the former cuse it is good fodder for cattle; in the latter it forms good man ure for the young shoots wliich have been springing from the root, and which are soon ready to bear fruit in their turn. From these shoots or sprouts the plant is propagated. Importance of a Clean Skin. Most of our invalids are such, and millions of more healthy people will be come invalids, for the want of paying the mo. t ordinary attention to the re quirements of the skin. The membrane is too often regarded as a covering only, instead of a complicated piece of machin ery, scarcely second in its texture and sensitiveness to the ear and eye.. Many treat it with as little reference to its proper functions as if it were nothing better than a bag for their bones. It is this inconsideration for the okin that is the cause of a very large porportion of the diseat.es of the world. If, as claimed by Kome scientists, four-fifths, in the bulk, of all we eat and drink musteithcr pas oil' through the skin or be turned back upon the system as a poison, and that life depends as much upon those exhalations through the skin as upon inhaling pure air through the lungs, it must be of the most vital importance to keep the channelf ree. . Just In from the Flats. A disgUHtcd-looking man with a double-barreled shotgun came wearily up the avenue. " Well. Jones," said t. friend, "just in from the Flats?" "Yes," said Jones, dropping the butt of his gun heavily on the pavement. " I'm in from the flats. Six of us have been eiuiu: in the rain in a wey' boat for two days, looking for duck! Not seeing any sport in this, I left. I'l.o other five are there yet, and I am f t your opinion ti nt they're Hal Y , sir. "should rru? i " ' ?, 'ui jut iu ii True to One's Self. Speak thou the truth, let others fence And trim their words for pay; In pleasant sunshine of pretense, Let others bask their day. Guard tbou the fact, tho' clouds of night Down on thy watch-tower stoop, Borne from thee by their swoop, Though thou shouldst see thy heart's delight. Face thou the wind." Though safer seem In shelter to abide, We were not made to sit and dream, The salt must first be tried. Show thou the light. If conscience gleam Set not the bushel down, The smallest spark may send a beam O'er hamlet, tower, and town. Woe nnto him, on safety bent, , Who creeps,lrom age to youth, Failing to grasp his life's intent Because he tears the truth. Be true to every inmost thought, ' And as thy thoughts, thy speech, What thou hast not by striving bought, Presume not thou to teach. Then each wild gust the mist shall cler We now see darkly through, And justified at last appear The true in Him that's true. HUMOROUS. On tlie spot A detective. The way for a bad boy to go on a bender, is over his mother's knee. Like a ferryboat, 1881 runs equally wel 1 either end ahead New York Oraphia A pretty girl mny talk slang, but ah never says, to her beau, " None of your Up!" - A burglar sometimes breaks into a man's chest with false keys, but a woman attempts to break . into his heart by means of false locks. Russell Sage has $1,000,000 per annum income, Jay Gould $5,000,000 and-Var-dcrbillj $210,000,000. These figures are all the more disheartening when it is remembered that scores of us hve to squeeze through a year on only $1,000, 000. If there is anything that will make & man rip etavin, roarin, bilin mad, it is to have the cook appear before him at breakfast with the announcement that the two pounds of lamb chops purchas ed by him the evening previous, during the wee small hours disappeared down the capacious maw of the family Thom as cat. "Do you love me for myself?" Bho' asked, as she gazed dreamily through the isinglass windows of the " Morning Glory" into the glowing coals, whicli threw back a rich tint upon her fair face. "I do," bo answered, pressing her hand: "I do but I am not selfish. ( am willing to kiss you fcr your mother." "Ah! 1 always knew you had a good, heart," she murmured. Curtain. Twos SuttJay eve and the small boy stood With bis eye to the keyhole pressed, And he saw his sister Bessy's head Oa Absalom Thompson's vest. Then be ran to his parent stern and. told, A nil thA nflrnnt Htttrn i-at1iai1 I , . -Wji- "There ain't no harm in a vest; slide out But tho I - 'i relused to slide. " There am t no harm in the vest, I know,' And bis eyes flashed bright that minute, " lint isn't it dangerous, dad," he asked, " When Absalom Thompson's in it?" Loti Pott. How Our Cities are Growing. We have now the returns of the popu lation of all our citie3 which contain ten thousand inhabitants and over. There are 245 such cities, and their total population in 1880 was 11 109,201. In 1870 we had 181 citierwith a popu lation of ten thousand and over, and their aggregate population was 7,672,933. These cities have therefore increased in number sixty-one within the ten years, and they contain 3,427,663 more inhabit ants. y Our total gain in population since 1870 has been 11,594,188, and nearly a third of this increase has been in the cities. If we included all the munici palities, those of between eight and ten thousand inhabitants as well as those of greater size, we Bhould probably find that our total urban population in 1880 was over eleven and a half millions, and toward three and three-quarter million more than in 1870. This would make the increase in the cities fully one-third of the whole increase ol population in the Union. The cities contained about 8.000.C in 1B70. to 1 1,600,000 in 1880. They tb fore have been increasing in inhabit far more rapidly than the rest o' country. While thd general ai been only about t wentv-five per that in the cities has been forty-3 cent. And this growth of the cities expense of the country genera been becoming more marked dui e whole of the Jast fifty years. In 130 our total urban population was only about one-sixteenth of the whole. In 1850 it had grown to he one-eighth. 1870 it was one-fifth; and in 1880, of about 60,000.000 of inhabitants, r than 11,500.000 lived in the cities. II the cities go on increasing du the next ten years at the same which the last ten years have sho . J, and the country, as a whole, advances in population at the same rate, we shall find more than sixteen millions in the cities, to about forty-eight or forty-nin millions in the rest of the country. A like tendency to build up the tor at the expense of the country appear the figures we are ot ' ining of the man census taken la' t year. modern tendency, ,1 we. it a modern evil l.y tous consequent A.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers