The Waynesboro' village record. (Waynesboro', Pa.) 1871-1900, July 06, 1871, Image 1
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TOLUIEE 24. fottrig, CIIILIIIOI9 LAID. There is a beatitifbl, far-of land,. = Lying in stmlit setts, But never a- ship to that magic strand, Was wafted by fitful breeze: - .For where her radiant shores unfold, Night stretches her purple bars, -, And fastens it in with her gates of geld, And gourds it with sentry stars. Over the fathomless summer skies snowy clouds come and go ; Through ever valley that dreaniing • Musical rivers flow. Mountain and forests and glen and glade, By the soft south-wind fanned, .' • Birds and blossoms that never.fade, Brighten ttds..thiry : • , • Even vanished, forgotten day, ' Scatters its sunshine there; , • Ends unfolding that passed Are living more fresh and fair. loving deeds` that the handshave done Sheaves of life's ripened grain ; Work, unfinished that souls begun, Made perfect, there live again. en-have-sought4t4Or-weary yea Yet lae'er to their yearning eyes The glow, of the mystic light appears, Where the land of the beautiful lies. Yet all have wandered its bright vales, In the quiet of peaceful hours ; Each heart the calm of its joy once knew And the sweet of its deathless flowers. lint hour to hour from the hidden shore, - Our feet bevcrOrrneying gone And days that faded can knoW no more, The light of its tenser. dawn: :Yet wemayfindigtlae great Somewhere, Its ttretehes of pearl-white strand; The blown; beauty that dwelling there, Makes Heaven the Childhood Land. IF lOU Lou TELL CIE :SD If you love nie;tell me so; I have read it *your eyes, I have henrd it in your sighs, But my woman's. heart replies, If you love me, tell me so Should I give you yes or, know! a, girl may not Confess , That her answer would. be "Yes," To finch questioning , unless I3ewho loteS tor-teps her so. ' If you love Me, tell Me'so, • • Love giVes Strength - te,iirateWaud wait, Trust, gives heart fOr'iuiy fate ; Poor or rich, tutittiolvti':or great, If you love me, tell me so. gliscdtaneors gleading. UGLY BARBARA; or, A WOMAN'S niurr. "Upon, my word; Barbara, think 'you' grow-uger every day I" said Ernest Eth-' erington cooly, as ,he lighted his segar at the softly 'shining light beneath the rose colored glass shade, 'and surveyed his tall cousin as he did so, . ' Barbara Moyle. `shrank ' back as if ho bad dealt her an actual corporeal blow. Poor Barbara! She had been watchligall day for the tardy train to b • 1 . 1 ;4 some cousin from college. She' fM , ed her hair so carefully, and z":.:r! - •!. 4 ," ; :ilie very prettiest white dretis, 'with blue ribbons, from her whole scanty 'ward.; robebecauseshi had ' once heard Ernest, say t hat he liked white, and hung the eon. ..al.clrops that Uncle Montague had sett her from India in her ears ; and this was his verdict, after all! . , "I can't bell) it !!,' cried Barbara pas sionately, while every drop of blood in her :body seemed to concentrateltself at.:-once in her burning cheeks. "I know I'm a great, ugly, gawky thing; but you oughn't to twit me with it, Cousin Ernest."' Mrs. Etherington, kind, motherly soul : that she was, was in the dining-room, busy . with preserves andlarts innumerable, to tempt her newly arrived' son's appetite, when Barbara Moylo rushed in like a whirlwird. . /'Aunt Effie, tell me; am I so very ugiy?' "Qoodness gracious 1" cried Mrs. Eth erington, nearly upsetting a .glass dish of -quince jelly in her amazement. "What has come to the child ? What , on earth do you. mean, Barbara?" "Ernest says I'm uglier than ever," sob-% bed the tall, ungainly girl, as she sank des lpairingly on the cushions in front of the ooking-glass. ' "He's only teasing you, dear." "No he's not. He n speaking the truth. But I don't think he owght tb tell mese Barbara surveyed. herself With dolorous earnestness. A swarthy, not to say muddy complexion ; heavy brown hair arranged very unbecomingly; and great wine-dark eyes ; lips too thick for beatq, and fea tures -whose heavy Mould, 'however much it might promise for the future, was cer tainly groteetpudy inappropriate for a girl of fifteen-,-411 these returned - no answer ing delight in am ugly," 'sighed Barbara, "and Ernest only spoke the truth. • 011, Aunt Effie, I wish I were a man. An ugly wo man is like a soundless instrument or a colorlont flower,. Men can fight against their own fate, arid mate themselves a r ace s in the world; women are utterly help , And from •tat time Barbara : . 3foylis character seemed to undergo a rehange, imperceptible yet entire. She withdrew more within herself; she cultivated resources, and depended less on the c.ompanionship and tip wet of others. ".Dear me!"siabet . cl Aupt Ether ington ;"I only hope • our Barbara isn't growing, strong-minded. If she Should turn public lecturer or artist or authoress, I rainy don't know how I could standit." "Let her alone, mother," said Ernest." "All girls have to undergo a transition more than common in little Barbara. If she wasn't so ugly; I really: should get in terested in her.. I always did liketo study' character.". . „ • "Well," said Mrs. Etherington dupi ously, "she mao,landsome, but - for all that I don't know how I eouldspare Barbara?! "I don't love him," said Barbara Moyle meditatively to herself; "but shall accept him. I want to proVe to Ernest that there is some one who. thinks me not absolutely frightfully !" A dangerous experiment, Bar barn, and one "thatmany - a woman: ,wiser than you has lived to repent. Marriages from pique are the marriages which fill our divorce courts with sorrowfUl tales, and make out the records of broken and blighted hearts. 'But Barbara confided her secret senti ments to no one, ,and Mils. Etherington wrote a long account to Ernest, ilow loung ing among. therAins Of Pompeii and Her culaneum, of whh`t a brilliant match Bar bara was about to make. Ernest wrete back --a congratulatory letter, and sent a lovely set of pink Neapolitan coral, which Barbara never once put on. Colonel All ; n!made i n "old man's darling" of her and she. had no lack of brilliant jewe And yet Barbara was miserable:7 „.. "Child," sail Mrs. Ethering, one even ing, as she sat' in the room which Mrs. Allston had just entered, dressed for a party in cream-colored silk 'and diamonds, "do .you know how youlave changed dur ing the past year ? , I never in all my life saw such an alteration in any one." "Italie I?"' said Barbara mdifferantiv. Yet, as she looked in , the glass, she could not but see itherself "I, wonder if Ernest would think me `ugly' now ?" she said, striving to speak lightly, but with a concealed tremor in her voice: " "Ugly!" echoed Mrs. Etherington.-- 4 Why, Barbara, you are beautiful!" She was. The large features were in harmony now with the rest of her face; the complexion had cleared to a creamy softness, with roses blooming on her cheeks and carnations on her lips: the nut-brown hair drooped, in satin waves on either side of her head, and the large wine-dark eyes were full of shadowy, mysterious depths' beneath their fringed lids., Yes; Barba ra saw that she was liar to look upon, and her woman :heart rejoiced within her. As she turned, stately and jewel-decked like•an oriental Sultana, she saw that a stranger had entered the room unannounc ed, and stood as if rooted to the floor, close to the door-way. "Ernest!" cried both aunt and niece ig one breath. "Yes, I am Ernest Etherington,' he an swered, shading his eyes, as if dazzled by some' over-bright vision. "But pardon me ; was told that cousin Barbara lived here.? . • Mrs.-Etherin,gton started to her feet " Ernest,. is it possible that - Am don know your cousin ?" The diMples came to Barbara's cheek, the radiant • softness to her eyes; this was a triumph worth having. She advanced with gracious . gracefulness. "I am Barbara." And She saiv i,ti eyes the. marvelous change - wrought 13,y, the inscrutable old alchemist Time. . That.uight, when Barbara came home and sat betbre her mirror, unclasping dia mond fillet - and bracelet, and loosening the dusky waves of her hair, and saw the 'peaceful face4nd white hairs of old Colo • nel Allston on the pillow beyond, she put her hand suddenly to her heart. Was it a sudden pang? was it remorse? was it a.conicionsnms, all too late, of the mistake shelled made? Di& she discover then, for thafirst time, that she had loved Ern est Etherington all these yeali, and 'that at last he was. her captive? rising softly,, - she crept across the vel vet piled carpet, and knelt silently beside the, pillow, pressing her ripe red lips a gainst the scattered iron-gray locks. never thought of this," sheriondered, "No; I -never dreamed what might come, to me when I • beheld him once more.— But, ohl•irty husband, manly and tender, from whose lips I never heard an unkind word; my nOble, loving guardian and °protector, I will be true to thee!" And Barbam's.vow was registered in the high heaven above. When she walked the next morning, the servants were tapping at her door aiith confused utterance, and white, fright ened faces. "Master had fallen in a .fit or something? •He had not begun.to drink his coffee at the solitary breakfast which was his usual habit, when his features grew rigid, and he fell from his chair; dead. • - And before the sunset of the short win ter day 'reddened the west Barbara was A- year Afterward, when She stood it the 'altar second time, her hand in that ofErnest Etheringten, it seemed as if her past life had been but a dream—as if she 'were flow beginning to exist, for the first time-in reality. "Ernest," , she whispered to him, as he led- her to- the carriage, "do you remember how you used to tease me about being ug g ly ?' 'What' makes you think of that just. now, Barbara?" he asked, smiling. "I don't knoir it all seems to come back to me, like a vision. Ernest, it may be very wicked, hut I think I loved you all , the time, ungainly, awkward • child though I vas." " "My 4 queen," kimurmui:od softly. • ucly &ilk ouag are better Fast asleep .thari"fa_st awake." A rrnPir WAYNESBOR(rx , are indebted to the Portland Argus for the followingsthrilline story : • : If we are not mistaken we heard or read somewhere "that truth is stranger than fiction.", . An instance strictly, true, has:come to our knowledge 'which vividly illustrates that, and also exhibits with al most.startling effect, the danger of mob law.- • . A young Maine man, who is engaged in the commercial traveling business for a Chicago house, was recently,traveling out in the far West, when he - was taken poss ession of enthe train b 3 two men who simply informed him that they were officers and wanted hinm. He expostulated, ex plained, demanded explanations, etc., but all in vain. No one on the train .knew him, and there were those who did know the officers. All he could get out of them was that he was the man they wanted.— In 'this way he was taken ninety miles in to the intoner. Upon his arrival he had no longer to remain in ignorance of his supposed offence, the whole Village being out to welcome him with such cries as "Here's the d—d horse, thief caught at • keit, and let's string him up." The officers made some show of resis tance, but, the excited mob took possme ion of their victim and married him into town, near the centre of which a noose was s i g over e imiof a tree. Our *len thought it was all up with him 'sure., Ex postulation was received with derision.— Eversybody recognized him as a notorious horse-thief whose depredations in the vi cinity. had.been long continued anclexten sive. A horse thief in that section is look ed upon as something worse than an aver age murderer. There was not a pitying eye in the crowd and the universal howl was to lynch him. He tried to pray, but the commercial traveling business - had ruin ed him for praying! While waiting under the noose a happy thought struck him ! His Masonry ! He was a Royal Arch Ma son., In all that crowd Iheir must be Masons. He gave the Grand, Hailing Signal of distress 1 'We are not at liberty to ex plain how it was done for several reasons, the chief one of.which is we don't know ! But he gave , it,. and in an instant one of the foremost ,of the citizens of town sprang to his side, tili d he gave some more Mason ic signals, and the, risoner was quickly surrounded with twenty or thirty deter mined men, who held the' crowd at bay with drawn pistols. Our friend explain ed to the l‘ading nagn who he was ; they organized a committee, of investigation • telegraphed to Chicago and verified all his statements; and the brutal mob slunk a 'way heartily ashamed. Our friend Ira made as comfortable as possible by his Masonic friends, but he, says he never ex perienced such intense anxiety as he did when he stood under that noose. The above is strictly true in all essen tial points, We have the names •of par ties an. dates.. • The young man has one or two , irothers living in this 'city. The m: j. • • o rescued him proved to be an old d of his father's. First Failure. - Yes, indeed, if we have the right stuff iy us, these failures at the outset are grand materials for success. To the feeble then are, of course, stumbling-blocks. The wretched weakling goes no farther ; he lags behind, and subsides into a life of failure. And so by this winnowing, "process the number of the athletes in the great Olym 'pies of life is restricted to n'few, and there. is clear space in the arena. There is scarcely, an old man among us—an old and suc cessful man—who will not willingly admit that he was made by his failures ' and that what he once thought his hard fate was in reality his good fortune. And thou; my bright-faced, bright-witted child, thou thinkest that thou' canst carry Parnassus by storm, learn to possess thyself in pati ence. Not easy the lesson, I know ; not cheering the knowledge that success is not attainable, per &ilium, by a hop, step and a jump, but by arduous pacsages of gal ' rseverance, toilsome etibrts I. sustain, . , and, most of all, by rep , , ted failures. Hard, I know, - is4hat 1a word grating harshly upon the ear df youth.— Say then, that we molify it "tilittle,—that we strip it of its outer crustacemrsness and asperity• nd trittliftillv t,nay We, do, so, my - dear ' Fir' thege faiblies V.re,' - as 'I have said, but teppitti,:stones to 9tice6e;"gradus ad Purnassam,—rat .the.WorSt,, non-attain ments of the. desired end before that time. 'lf success were to crown thine efforts now, where won rest success .of the hereafter It is ,the ve resolution to "do better next time" ' 'that lays' the sub trateof all; real .greatness. 14anreprom ising-reputation has been prematurely des troyed by .early 'Success,Thd good Sap runs out from thetrunk into feeble Offshoots or suckers. T 1 e hard discipline of the knife is wan I repeat that it is not pleasant ; but hen thou feelest the sharp near of,the edge, think that all who have gone before thee have been lacerated in like manner. , "How Bin Toy. no Loos'!"—Don't say that. - .Whznot give the poor, sickly one an encouragiag word, instead ? It will be far better.. You may be startled to find your friend,• or, your neighbor, 'or some stranger whom you meet, looking so - ill. But don't show. your surprise; keep yoer self-possession and do not attempt to ex press sympathy by telling him •he looks "poorly," or. "terribly," or shockingly."— Onasuch word is sometimes enough to topple over all a . poor fellow's courage and m leave hinishinagatt depths of despoil deney.- Speak cheerfully 'always to • the sick. Look at. the better side. Keep up their hope by leading them to see how well thevare rather than ho sick they are. _ . When - oc.. atespi!. city most mem .When i 41 being'shenctr. • FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., TIEURSDA A Thrilling Story. . , ~ ~ .:', . .,,...,, J ~..% TO .~.. Two Honest Men. ' David Davis, one of the earl • citizens ofLewistown, Me., now gone his ,re ward was a most. excellent 'euaker—s, man of unspotted integrity. Sometime be fore his death he went to his son-in-law, A. Wakefield,. and said to him : "I hear there is a pasture for sale (naming it) for $lOO, and, I believe buy it. He bought it, but, told the owner it was worth $125. and paid the owner that sum for it. Shortly after, the person of whom Da vis bought the, pasture wanted a loan of $4O, and Davis. gmntecl him the loan taking his note for that sum. ,Before long Davis was taken ill, and feeling that it was his last illnes.s, he called Wakefield to his side, and said to him :•'' "I have a note of $4O against A., and I want thee, after. I am gone, to destroy it." Wakefield wondering and 'asking an explanation, he said : '• ' 'Thee knows ~I bought that pasture from A., and I didn't pay him; as: much as it was worth, and I don't feel that. he ought to pay me that note."' "But" said Wakefield, "y-Ou paid him all and more than he asked for the land." "Yes," said Davis, 'that is true, but it makes no differenclM‘worth $4O more than I paid 'him, and I want that note destroyed." ShortlyLafter_Davis passed away; and Wakefield in the performance of his duty as administrator, looking up the deceased's effects, came upon this note. It -was a good note for forty dollars ; but in accor dance, with the old' Quaker's dying re quast, he threw it into the fire. Not long after, A., of whom the pasture was bought, called on Wakefield. , , . "You'v got something against one, hav en't you ?" "What iq it. for?" said Wakefield. • • 'I gave a note to Davis for s4_o_,_pogiey borrowed of him, and I want to pay. it." "I've no such note,' said Wakefield. But this estate certainly holds such • a note against' e: -, • - "I can't help it—we've none now." Very soon Wakefield explained the. mystery, and tears rolled down the aston- .. ished man's face as he learned tint the note had been burned—a witness to the - wonderful conscientiousness and integri ty of the sure-footed Quaker, one of the' worthy first settlers of Lewistown. Such iriert will do for any age—the more the, better. - THE Mor,AL Lusztres.Tox.--The ; great lubricator which make, severythirig iu hu man'life run :without friction,is' goal tem per: As soon. as this-is exausted, the. Journals ; of the human machine begin to. heal, and wear, and screech, and the en tire mechanism becomes noisy and ruin ously wasteful of power. "The horse that frets * is the horse that sweats," is an old saying of horsemen, and is just as true of m ,en.as of horses. The man that allows • hinaaool to be irritated at every little thing that goes amiss in his business, or in the 'ordinary affairs of life, is It man.that,. as a rule, 'will accomplish little, -and wear out early, • He is a man for whom. bile Ind dyspepsia have a particular fondness, - audio_ whom children have a particular aversion. e rt-with a perpetual thorn in his flesh, which pricks and wounds' at the slightest movement ; a mart for whom, life has little pleasure, and the future small hopes. To "keep jolly" under all provo cations, is perhaps a Wk which only Dickens' Mark Tapley couldperfor u . rt never have met Mark Tapley in our cape-, rience of human nature, but we have seen him closely approximated ; and it would be well if people in general could approach more nearly that inimitable character. In all the phases, -emergencies and occupa tions of human life, good temper is a com modity for which: there is great demand ; but in those which bring an individual into daily contact with others, it is per haps in greatest demand and most imtted supp tbacretalt--. Bachelors, Look Out ! A few weeks ag,o,:a poor, lonely bachelo . rl, whb had never loved nor been loved, left his dreary. home for the sake of a-little exercise. The morning was bright and sunny 'and as he promenaded in the Park he gazed-along at the girls as they pas sed him and thought of his own wretched condition. As he saw their bright and smiling countenances, and the hapPf - fa ces of their male companions, hecouldtiot but contrast his own lonelyness and 'sin gle misery. — These thoughts weighed, up on him, "and he became quite melancholy: As he was standing on the sidewalk, gar,- ing listlessly about,/ he - saw a' beautiful young laoil iali minfiv toward him leading' a venerable b h . man. Thuninclfill of the danger she Inc; from the pissing vehicles, her yholthought was devoted to her charge, *hi hshe finally landedin safety on the sde walk. He thanked her for her kindn ss, and - she left him.— The lonely bachelor saw the whole trans action, and it struck him so forcibly, that all his ideas concerning the, gentler sex of the ,community were changed,. - He took a 'rill look at the young lady, that he might know her again, and bent on. his way.. He subsequently described hei to some of his friends, and after ascertaining who she was, procured an introit 'on.— He found she was an good as he t hught her, an& now h 4. is a limarrio... , I-- Of course, he told herofthe incidentbi h led to their . acquaintance. She, in 'turn told it to her-lady friends, and the conse quence is, that a newsocietyhas been start ed, Called "The Young Ladle? Human- , itarian Associationforhelping BM:algal across tha'strect." • Bacheltiti look outr Ofie of the, most curious things wit] :which we are acquainted is that a . w j should keep perfectly dry when it - dinning spring inside. Jimy 8, is ' 'Too Good Company for Me." It was one evening last summer, when a lady who belongs on the editorial staff of one of the leading dailies of New York had been detained'by office duties until rather a late hour. Living on the heights, in 13rooklin, but a short distance from Fulton Perry,' it Was not 'much of a ven ture to, go home without eseort, and so she started. On the boat, standinc! outside en-. . . joyhig the refreshiugbreezes after the days " toil, she perceived a gentleman (?) in rather close proximity to where she was leaning over the guards, t said nothing. "Are you alone ?" said e, as the boat neared the slip. "No,, r," said the lady and without furtherinterruption when the boat touched sh e ' stepped. Oil: "I thought you were not alone," said the fel low, sttppuig to her side again. '"I am .not," replied the lady, "Why, I don't see any one ; who is with you ?" "God Al ' mighty and the angels, sir; I'm never a lone !".,.,"You keep too good company for me, madam ; goOd night !" and he shot for a Fulton avenue car, their nearly a block away. The heroic woman was per mitted to "keep the right as the law di rects," and enjoy the full measure of qui et satisfaction one always feels from keep ing good company. , - According to a Noith CarMinit' writer, the influence of the moon of vegetation may be. etermined by trying the experimedt "Take any given quantity of common peas,, nd divide the same into four parts, keeping them separate. Then.: on any ground at all fit for vegetation, when the season approaches, sow the contents of the first parcel on the first or second day of the new moon ; the second parcel sow near the same spot 'on the gist or second day of the second quarter; the third parcel sow on the second-or third day before the full ; and lastly, sow the fourth parcel on the second or-third day before the moon is out.. Now; the first parcel, sown under the new moon,, Will grow very fast blos som most beautifully, but will not bear much fruit; the second will blossom and bear, very, little; the third parcel will not only blossom beautifully, but will bear , fruit in abundance, and the fourth and last parcel will scarcely rise from the' ground. Likewise, . all fruit trees, set at the new moon, blossom, but three days be fore the' full 'moon, bear abundantly.. In pruning trees; the same abet takes place, thr a tree pruned at the new moon, will shoot forth branches, but will prove un productive, --but if pruned at the full, it will bear abundantly. • . Dui's . or Tun Oextn—The success. which has attended the laying, of subma rine cables has set aside the erroneous idea of an ocean 'without bottom at rat forever and given an impulse to the effort to irk. vent new means of sounding and dredg ing. The soundings made in the Atlan tic shOws its bottom • to be an extensive plateau, varying in depths at different points. The , average depth is 12,000, though the steamer Cyclops obtained 'depth of 15,000 feet. This ocean flooi- be gins about one hundred and fifty miles 'fn — the Irish coast; there the - demi from the shallmir to-deep water is very rapid, reaching 10,500 feet inifty giving tin' angle 'of 'descent greater 'than that of the Italian Alps? The deepest part of the Atlantic is on the American side, near the banks of Newfoundland, where 'a great basin exists, ranging cast nd west for nearly a thousand miles, and whose. depth is believed to exceed the high. est of the Himalaya mountains. WIZAt, is .touching sadly.true is the following simple pieture of human life, without the light of imaaor , tality upon. it: • A little crib beside the bed, • A little face tiboe the spread. . ' A little 'frock behind the door, little shoe upon the floor. - A little lqd 'dark brown hair, It little blue-,eyed face and fair, ' little fende'that leads to school,' • A little Pelitil, - slate and rule. • • . . • • ".A. little' blithiome, winsome maid; " A little hand . within his laid; A little cottage, acres four, A little old-time-fashioned store. A little family gathering round • A httle turf-heaped, tear-dew'd mound A little added to•liis soil,. ' A little rest from hardest' toil. . A little silver in his hair; `A little stool and easy chair, A little night of earth-lit gloom; - A-little cottage to‘the tomb. Nrimr 18 NOTCHARITY."-It is note , - ity forgive a pennyto the street m: i di eaut,,ef whom nothing is known, while we higgle with..a poor man, out of employ ment, for a miserable dime. It is not char ity to beat down a poor seamstress to star vation price ; to let her sit in her wet clotb.es sewing; a day ; to deduct from her pitiful 'renumerktion ifthestorm delays her prompt arrival.'. charity to take a poor rel Vive into ;Our family, and ,reake hera slave to your whims, and 'taunt her continually with her dependant situatio It ispot.charity to turn a' man 'Who t of work - into'the streets, with his ily, because he cannot pay his rent.: is not charity•trigivc with a supercilious air and patronage, as if God had Made 'you, the rich man, of different blood from the shis‘ Bring reeiiient, Islx.conly crime is that be is , poor:' , It is not. charity'to be an ex , tortioner—: ,•• ttot though you -bestow almsjoy thousands. ho has Teen much tiro frlaf it says: ara . dng to love,.ard VA good man 'world and-is ~ grand essentials thing to do, comet thingtohope for." EiilEMSliii ~ .~., .. ' ~.~ a. 13.4iLEK 0 . 8 orG exis.—The cat is called 4Mtlestie anitnile—but have never able to tertwherefore. Icant.trust one any more than you kat . a ase of the gout. There is only one iatiztEd ..ing tbat you -kan .trust a cat with, one come.out even, and that is a bar of hard soap. They are as naefik as Mosis, but as full of diveltry as Judas Iskariatt... • Tha,will harvest's dozen ofyoung chik ens fazleu, and then steal into the sitting room - as softly as an undertaker, and lay, thenlielveit down on the rug at your feet'. Mall of: njured innocence and chickens, ' anciAlream uv their childhood days. Alh there is about a cat that is domes tic, that l.kpow of, is that you leant lose one. : You mad send a cat out uv the State duiup in a meal bag, and marked C. O, D. and the nest morning yu will find him, or her`-(accordino—tew her sex) in the old spot, alongsid e' the kitchen stove, ready to be stepped on. Cats have two good ears for melody and often make the night atmosphere melo dious with her opera music,: Yu, may kill one as often as you luive mind to, and tha begin life anew, in a few ininuts with a more flattering pros pect. Dogs I luv, they carry their kreden shul9 in their faces, and kart hide them, burth - ebulk — of — a — cat's — reputatiotriays buried in her stomak, as unknown t ew themselves as to, ennybody else. WHAT THE MICROSCOPE REVEALS.-:- Lewenboeck tells us -of an insect seen with ,the microscope of .which 27,000,000 would equal a mite. Insects of various kinds may be sequin the cavities of a grain of sand. Mould is a forest of beautiful trees, with the branches, leaves and fruit. Butterflies are fuly feathered. Hairs are hollow tubes. The surface of oar bodies is covered with scales like a fish ; a single :pain of sand would cover 150 of these Scales, and yet a scale covers 200 pores. Through these narrow openings thesweat forces it self like water through a ceive. The mites Make 500 steps a second. - Each drop of stagnant water contains a world of animated beings, swimming with as much liberty as the whales in the Each leaf has a colony of insects graz ing on it, like cows on a meddow, , Moral: Have some care to 'the air you breathe,_the food you eat, and the water you drink, ' How IT WAS DISCOVERED. — An alleged discovery of a cure for cancer from a spe cific derived from a plant w hich grows in Ecuador is exciting much interest in med ical circles. A. curious story is told of the manner in which the anti-cancer vir tues of this plant were first discovered.— For a long time previous to the discov try the plaq, had been regarded as a poi son. Acting upon this belief, an Ecuador wife 'who desired to rid herself of her hus band gave him a decoction of this plant in his drink., The fellow was already dying slowly °fa-cancer in his stomach, but her eagerness, could not wait for the ordinary sequel in such cases. She applied the noxious distillation to his drink, and wait ed to see -him fall ather feet. But instead of that the happy husband survived. The subtile essence benefited • his cancer, and the fellow finally recovered from•his dis ease to make. known the blessing to the world. A,nicely dressed zoung':gentlemsm en= tered a barber shop in a somewhat retired portion of the- city a few days ago, for pur pose of getting Shaved. The tonsorial ar tist spat oirthe brush and proceeded to lather, when he was stopped . by, .the hor ror-stricken customer, who inquired what he meat byspitting . on the brush." "Why," said the barber, "ain't you a gentleman?" "Yes." - replid the stranger: "Well," Said the barber, "that's the way we; treat gentleman ; when a rough comes in, we just -1 erely spit on his face.' A Boston trader called at a house in Maine some time ago to buy cheese, but when he came to look at the lot, ho con eluded he would, n 4. take it—it was so ful of skippers. As'ho was going off the farmer said to hiM. , ,Look here, mister how can I get my cheese down to,Boston the cheapest?" The trader took another look at the cheese, and seeing more ,and more evidence of its being alive, replied:. "Well let it be,a fewda,ys or two longer and I . ess yciU Cakdrive it down." Prrne,kernal is felt in a hogshmtd—mil . op, of water helps to swell the ocean—a : spark of fire helps to give light to the world. You arc a small man passing a mid the crowd, you are hardly noticed; but you have a drop, a spark within von that may be - felt tiitong„b, eternity., 7Do you believe it ? Set that di-op-in give win g s to that spark, and beholil the results ! may renovate the world:clione. are too small—too feeble—too poor to be be of service. Think of this, and act.— Lif is no truffle. r - Let parents make every possible effort to have their children g,oto sleep in a pleas ant humor. Never, scold or give lectures,. or in any way wound a child's. feelings as it 'goes to bed. Let all-banish builiicss-and every worldly care at bedtime, and let sleep come to a mind at peace with God_ and 11 the world. . IV6steni Taper announces.the illn piously adding ; "All 'good absoribem are requested . to men in their iiityers, ThO others „da - the 'prayers of thificitod. iling; according to aiithor- igiVilMilliii and Oringt. , GrOOO24E.7:—A handsome bath. clerk in one' Oreur 'most popular ail' , goods stores, is smitten with a fa*resident of a neighboring city:. The fatlub. of the young lady mine ..to.A.tlanta recently and regis tered at the: hotel...where our 'bachelor friend boards,: :As 'soon as this discovery Was made, theeld gentleman was looked up and made the recipient of 'earnest at tention (such iis , kill of :sus have and are disposed to pay the, Parents of the "hoped for,") to ingratiate 'xiself into Lis 'pa rental favor. ' • ' Just before going uri.to.dirtner, the old gentleman wanted inforinatien , from' the young one, where he-emit:l get a drink of good "peac h and honey.' "Well, I don't know imyself, , but I've heard that at the bar, rooms, good' liquors are kept," was the innocent'reply.' "The old gentleman asked the young one to show him the way.: , "Certainly. Though I don't drink my-,. self," replied the teetotaller. ' Arrived at the bar the'svant4 of the 01d gentleman wits made knOlvzi,heu. 7 , he bar-tender, turning -to . the-young wait, coolly remarked, "I suppoSe iahe gin and sugar as usuallfr. r---2" • He "had orter" winked sooner. --- respected Knickerbocker, on, the , slisdY side of fifty--a widower with five chil dren —full of fun and frolic, everready for a joke, to . give or take,*as bantered ' the otherevemng by a miss °ive-and-twen ty, for not taking another wife; she ursze'd that he was hale and hearty. and deserved a matrimonial mess-mate. The Judge ac knowledged the fact; admitted that lie was convinced by the eloquence of his fair . friend-that he had been thus. far. very re miss, and expressed contrition for the fault confessed; ended in offering himself to the lady, telling her she could-not certainly reject him after pointing oiit. • his heoions offence. . The lady replied she would - be' most, happy to take the situation so uniquely 'advertised, and become bone of his.bowi and flesh of his flesh, but there was one, to her, serious obstacle. "Well," says 'the Judge, '"name My profession is to strmount . such impcd. iments." "Ay, Judge, this is beyondynur ppsven I have vowed if 'I ever marry a widower, he must have ten children," "Ten - children f. Oh, that's nothing," says the Judge, give you five, nolv, and my rorr on demand in installrrients, for the balance." Pact • • A - darkey was boasting to a 'grocer of • the cheapness of ten 'pounds , of an gar he had bought at a rival Abp.'. "Let me weigh the package,", said the grocer..' The &rimy assented, and it' was two_.'pounds • short. The "colored gentleman"'said "Guess he didn't cheat dis.chile Much, for while he was gettiu' de sugar,. I stole two pair of shoes." A lady promised togive her 'maid 825 as a manage portion. The girlgot mar ried to a man of low stature, and hex mistress, on seeing him:was surprised,srid said: "Well'ltary, what a little man you have got?" "La," , exclaimed the. girl„ "What could you expect for $25 ?" "Tatoes !" cried a darkey peddler in Richmond. 'flush dat r ack.et—you di - tracts de whoJ neighborhood," came f Top a colored woman in a door-way. 4 You kin hear me, kin you ?" ',"Hear you • I kin hear you a mile." "Thank God for, dat'—l is hollowin' 'to be heardL- 1- -tate I' Palace sleeping.-cars for hogs area n&- elty on Western Railroads. Each hog has a berth, with hot and cold watct on the European plan and'wheri They to cincinati, a Rminn bath is furnielcd which tikes thelair right off. An old farmer sail to. hi3,sons : don't you overspackerlate, or wait forsua:.- i..t to turn up. You miliht ju:lt, es • whit dpwu on a stone in the medder,‘ wi - poi .o. mast, your lags, an' Wail. fn-a cm to back„ up to 'you to be milked." Here's : a marriage•for you:2•3l:trrici. At ,Flintstone, by theßev. Mr:lV hid ton?. Mr. Nehemiah Whetstone,and Miss Sandstone both of limestone. , -- Look out for imstono and little 1 4 . r h(11 • stones next. A miniefer at Corry, N. Z. o couple i fately. When he made the usu al proclamation concerning 'impedimentt, e blpshing brido replied.: "Go. , • .s uger,,l'm all right.' 'flie other day, a tobacconist of eitcl-. land long in front of his shop the foils-; mg "notice," written on board : "Want ed-7A Girl to Strip?! , . , , - :_the newest variety of lager is rall&I ".Hecht Importirtes 'Brannehweiger pel-Bier." A omit 'who has tried it says that all short cubit:it, wealth are over-ero" When is a soldier riot a half soldier ? When'he's in head quarters.. ' . . wheirmar,the rata , A be looked rn as a dead letter? Whea,it is in death. - I th e • Whiti is letter 'll most flurzi4xl?'— 'When it is in- confusion. • • is theinttoi. most uncertain etfe . ' :eouSe it in doubt. ` 'Why is letter En , inost travagant letter! •Beca.tte i 5 and never nut of dt..llt. *2,00 PER, YEAR NUMBER 2.