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BY W. BLAIR,
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SAWATR MORN,
BY AilA B. 170517. R.
When ushered in, on piers of light, in Ori
ent the day is horn,
A. softer. sunlight crowns tlae. hills in the
fl !.11) hush of Sabloath morn.
The faithful plough forgets to worlr, the
loud-voiced loom at igngth ; is still.,
And on th 9 river's paossy, 1),r14 in siApnee
fAuuds the weary mild,
The shouting winds are spiv; now the
brook sends forth a softer elihne,
And on the heavy •sands of life {gore slO,Fly
roll the whepls of Time. •
Upon the dewy air serene fall lower hum
iniugs of the bee,
And in a half r hushed inadrigal float the
, biro} Marbles from the trpp.
And mingled with th9s9 pastoral sounds
comp the voice ofswe9t church bells,
ASdiffeltsaMiTrifiCtiirciliiirp3l—through
the wild romantic dell.
.The well worn church paths now are trod
by light and rev i rent feet ofall ;.
And pensivs, groups are now pouring forth
from the.:low cot and ived hall.. ,
To where thechapel the green uplifts its
slender spire of white,
Like snowy finger pointing up to Ehining,
courts of starry light.
The aged pastor's holy words now soothe,
subdue the spirit-strife,
And yearning souls swift plume their wings
and soar beyond the clouds pf life.
A beacon-light to guide my barve across
file's troubled, drowning sea,
A spring-brook in the desert lone, so is the
holy day to me.
God,"when off this drooping brow i,s laid
life's weary weight of thorn,
1 pray my spirit may find rest in Thy eter
nal Sabbath Morn.,
01i5411a4eptui
BY B. G. I:ItANFS.
In a sniall but handsomely furnished
sitting-room in A I.,:ondon hotel, a young
lady was sitting, in an easy chair, before
blaring fire, one dreary 'November af
ternoon. Her hat and clotk lay upon
the table beside her, and fr(nn the eager,
impatient glances she turned toward the
door at every sound of a foetstep on the
staircase outside, it was evitient that she
expected a visitor.
At last the door opened, and a tall,
aristocratic looking young rnaa entered
the room.
"Oh, harry, what a long time you
have been !" she exclaimed, springing up
from her seat. "What does your fluffier
say about our—our marriage ?" hesitatiog
with the shyness of v. bride, at the last
words.
"Read for yourself, Helen," replied her
husband, handing her an upon letter, anti
standing opposite her, leaning against the
marble mantle-piece, 'watching intently
the expression of her fair young face as
she read :
"In marrying as you have dace, you
have acted in direct deliberate opposition•
to my wishes. Front this day you are
no longer my son, and I wash my hands
of you forever."
"Oh, Harry why did you not tell me of
this before?" exclaimed Helen, as she
read the hard, cruel words, looking up
through her tears into her husbands face.
'"My darling, what was there to tell?
How could I know that my father would
act in this hard-hearted manner? I knew
that he wished me to marry the daughter
of a nobleman living near Marston Hall,
and so unite the two estates, but I had
no idea that he would cast me off for dis
obeying his wishes. And even if I had
known it," he added„ fbudly clasping his
young bride to his heart, and kissing a
way the tears from, .4 t er eyes, "I should
not have acted differently. My Helen is
worth fifty estates, and as long as she loves
me, I shall never regret the loss of Mar
ston Hall and its fiiir acres. But, my
love," he continued, more seriously, "there
is an end of your promised shopping expe
dition in Regent Street. You will have
to do without diamonds, now that your
husband is a penniless outcast, instewl of
the heir to fifteen thousand a year."
"Hash, Harry please don't, talk like
that," she said, hurt at this bitter tone ;
`.`you know it was not of the diamonds that
I was thinking. But what are you going
to do, Harry ? she continued, laying her
!land upon his arra, and looking up sadly
into, his pale set face. "You cannot work
for. a living.
.And why not work for a living," hp.
expla t imed, in a determined voice, "be—
cause I happened to be the son of a no—
bleman,, brought up and educated without
any kr,kowledge or idea of business ? But
I will work for a living, and shoiV my
wife that I um not unworthy of the trust
she reposed in me, when she placed this
little hand in mine," he added, stooping
to kiss the stual,l white hand which rested
upon his arm.
. It was while pursuing his favorite study
of oil painting. among; the famous galle
ries of Rome, that Harry Marston wooed
and won Helen Tracy, i governess in an
F.nglish family residing in Italy. and the
orphan daughter of an officer in the Eng
lish army. Before he had knowa her a
mouth, Harry, 'who had been in lone—or
fttocied himself so— with at least half a
dozen different young ladies in as many
mouths, • felt that he had at last met his
fate.
Delighted. at the idea of being hayed
for himself alone, he had not told her of
his real position, and it was not until af
ter the marriage ceremony—which took
place at the British consulate—was over
that Helen sliscovered she had married
the eldest son of a baronet, and the heir
to fifteen thousand a year.
. It was not without some inward mis
givings that Harry wrote to his fitther,
telling him of his marriage, which were
wore than realized by theresult, as we
have seen by the letter from Sir Philip
Manson, which awaited him at his club
on his return to England with his bride.
But full of confidence in his ability to
maintain himself and his young wife by
his own exertions, Harry troubled himself
very little about his lost inheritance; and
tho Ugh their new home—consisting of
three small, poorly furnished rooms, in a
back street—was very different from the
grand old mansion, to which he had hoped
to take his bride, he sat to work cheertal
ly at his favorite art, and tried hard to
earn a living by painting pictures and
_portraits.
But he soon founcl that it wad not so
easy as he thought.
It was all very well when he was heir
to Marston Hall, and studied painting
merely from love of art, but picture deal
ers, who in those days, had been all flat
tery and obsequiousness toward the young
heir, now that he really wanted to sell his
pictures and sketches, shook their heads,
and politely, but firmly declined to, pur
chase.
At last one dreary afternoon, when
E EhAing Post
Harry wad sitting in the little room e
called his studio, trying to devise some
new scheme to replenish his slender purse,
the servant opened the door and ushered
p i white-haired old gentleman intoithe
room.
Placing a chair by the fire for his visi
tor, Hairy inquired his business.
"You are a portrait painter, I believe,
sir," said the old gentleman, looking at
him through his gold spectacles.
"That is my profession, sir,' replied
Harry, delighted at the thought of having
found a commission at last.
`l'Vell, sir ,, I want you to paint the
portrait of my daughter."
"With pleaaure sir," said 'Harry, ea
gerly. "When can the lady give me the
first sitting ?"
"Alas, sir I she is dead—dead to me
these Anty years—and I killed her !
broke her heart with my harshness and
cruelty !" exclaimed the old man, in an
excited voice.
A strange chill came over Larry, as
the idea that his mysterious visitor must
be an escaped lunatic crossed his mind;
but mastering with an effort, his emotion,
- he stranger continued :
"Pardon me, young sir. This is of no
interest to you. My daughter is dead,
and, I want you to int her portrait from
my description, as ]remember her
years ago."
'"I will do my beat, sir, but it will be
no easy task, and yon must be prepared
for disappointments," said Harry, when
having given him a long description of
the form and features of his long-lost
daughter, the old gentleman rose to de
part; and for weeks he worked incessant
ly upon the mysterious portrait of the
dead girl, making sketch after sketch,
each of which was rejected by the remorse
stricken father, until the work began to
exercise a strange kind of fitecination o
ver him, and he painted and sketched
face after lace, as if under the influence
of a spell,
At last one evening, wearied with a
day of fruitless exertion, he was sitting
over the fire watching his wife, who sat
opposite, busy upon some needlework,
when an idea suddenly flashed upon him.
"Tall, fair, with golden hair and dark
blue eyes! Why, Helen, it is the very
picture of yourself ! he exclaimed, start
ing from his seat,, taking his wife's fair
face between his two hands, and gazing
intently into her eyes.
With out losing a moment, he sat down
and commenced to sketch Helen's • face
and when his strange patron called the
next morning, Harry was so busil,ey en
gaged in putting the finishing touches
upon his portrait that he did not hear
him enter the room, and worked on for
some moments, unconscious of his pres
ence, until, with the cry of "Helen ! my
daughter !" the man pushed him aside,
and stood entranced before the portrait.
After gazing for some minutes in si
lence, broken only by his own half sup
pressed sobs of remorse, the old man turn
ed slowly around to Harry and asked him,
in an eager voice, where he had obtained
the original of the picture.
"It is the portrait of my wife," said he.
"Your wife, sir ! Who was she ? Where
did you marry her ?" said the old man
excitedly. "Pardon me for asking these
questions," he added, "but I have heard
lately thnt my poor Helen left an orphan
daughter,. and for the last six months I
have bean, vainly trying to find the child
of my lust daughter, so that, by kindness
and devotion to my grand child, I might,
in part at least, atone for my harshness
toward her mother."
Harry had commenced ,to tell him the
story.of his meeting with Helen in Rome,
and their subsequent marriage, when the
door opened, and his wife entered the
room.
Perceiving that her husband was en
gaged, she was about, to retreat, when the
old gentleman stopped her, and after
looking her full in the face for a mcuuent
exclaimed:
A FAMILY NEWSPAPER-DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWS.. ETC.
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, . ITNE 27, 1872.
"Pardon me, madam—can you tell me
your mother's maiden name ?"
"Helen Treherne," replied Helen won
deringly.
"I knew it ! I knew it ! exclaimed the
old man, in an excited voice. "Thank
God, I have at last found the child of my
poor lost daughter." -
In a few words Mr. Treherne explain
ed how he cast off' his only child, on ac
count of her marriage with a poor officer,
and refused to open her letters when she
wrote, asking for forgiveness.
"But thank heaven !" said he, when he
had finished his sad story, "I can atone
in some measure for my harshness toward
my Helen by taking her Helen to my
heart and making ;ler my daughter."
It is needless to add, that when Sir
Philip Marston heard that his son had
married the heiress of one of the finest
and oldest estates in the country, he at
once rote a letter of reconciliation to
Harry, and, after all, Helen eventually
became mistress of Marston Hall, in
whose grand old, pic hire gallery, full of
old masters, no pain ting is more valued
or treasured than "The Mysterious Por
trait."
The Honost Thief
There once lived in St. Petersburg an
aged man, who, though poor, had always
been ,noted for strict .nonor and integrity,
and whose whole course of life was regu
lar as clock-work. - Each - morning lieleft
his modest dwelling precisely at the same
hour, passed through the old clothes'-mar
ket to his bureau, and after six hours' la
bor was accomplished, returned by the
selt-same route. His garments were shab
by of long service,and.the covering on his
cap was worn to shreds. The urgent so
licitation of his daughters finally induced
him to replace the latter article, and see
ing some of a green color one day in a
window, he went in and inquired the price.
' he shopman, however;rrefused—to—sell
them on the plea that they were already
bespoken, and offered to show him others
of a different hue ;, but the old man had
set his heart on green.
"Well, then," said the man, "if you must
absolutely have it, take it, and, if needed,
I can finish cne by to-morrow in its place.'
The bargain was accordingly concluded,
and the next day no Small excitement was
created by the appearance of the cap,
which elicted from his colleagues smiling
congratulation on his successful purchase.
Two days afterward, the heat being in
tense in the bureau, he felt in his pocket
for his handkerchief, in order to wipe his
lime, and he drew forth, to his great as—
tonishment, one of the fine India foulard
silk. He showed it to his colleagues,and
inquired if he had by mistake appropria
ted another person's property; but one
and all disclaimed all knowledge of it,
and agreed unanimously that it must be
a surprise from one of his daughters.
"Children," said he, upon his return to
his house, "who has done this ? Do you
wish to make me vain in my old age ?"
His daughters also declared their igno
rance of the matter, and, after random
guesses, finally made up their minds that
it must have been put into his pocket by
their cousin, who spent the last Sunday
with them, and the handkerchief was care
fully put aside by their father. ,
On the following day, as lie was care
fully spreading his coat-tails in order to
seat himself at the desk,he felt something
hard in both pockets, and putting in his
hand, brought out from one a gold watch,
and from the other a well-furnished purse.
This time his reason was overwhelmed ;
but, after a long reflection, lie formed a
sudden resolution. He had been more
,punctual than the other officials,determin
ed to say nothing of his discovery, and as
soon as the office-hours were over,he went
directly to the chief of police, and solici
ted a private audience. He then produc—
ed the watch and purse, and related the
history of the handkerchief. After the
chief had fully possessed himself of all the
particulars, be said :
"It is very singular! Has nothing of
the kind ever happened to you before?"
"Never before last week."
"Have you made any change in your
dress within, that time !"
4 N0."
"Recollect,"
4 0h, yes ; certainly ! I bought a new
cap,!"
'i en me how and where you bought it"
The old Man told him everything con
nected with his purchase ; upon which
the chief laughed heartily, and exclaim—
ed:
"Poor, honest man that you are, you
have become a member of a gang of
thieves. Do you not perceive? Their twen
ty caps of the same shape and color were
to serve them as a mark for recognition,
and as every pickpocket seeks to divest
himself as quickly as possible of his stolen
goods, they have taken you for an accom
plice and transferred those articles to your
pockets. We are greatly indebted to ac
cident and to you. Take this money,and
buy another cap from one of the maga
zines ; then bring this one back imme—
diately ; fbr as I hope to have the whole
gang in my power to-morrow, you must
not run the risk of being arrested also."
The old man went into a shop and pur—
chased another covering for his head; but .
as he was about to tin up his cap in his
handkerchief, in order to take it back to
the police-officer, he found in the crown,
to his no small surprise, a small piece of
lace. He hastened to delived this fresh
booty into the handy of the chief, who a
gain bunt into a peal of laughter when he
beheld the despairing countenance of the
honest thief.
The necessary measures were• immedia
tely taken. TWO dozen detectixes were
made acquainted with the form of the cap,
and simultaneously, .1t precisely the same
hour, every possessor ; of the sign was Om,
ed in durance vile.
The Church of God.
Some fifty years ago, perhaps a little
angrier to that period, says the Mechan
icstown (Md.) Clarion, a gentleman by
the name of Winebrenner, raised in the
Glades settlement of this county, between
Fredeiick and Woodsboro', went to Fred
erick and studied Divinity under the teach
ings of the Rev. Jonathan Helfenstein, of
the "German Refbrmed Church," so-cal
led at that day. He was a tall, portly,
good-looking man, with long arms and
sharp, bony, pointed fingers. We believe
he was regularly ordained as a Minister
of the Reformed Church, and was regard
ed as a fine pulpit orator; but believing
that the old school system of getting re
ligiou was not sufficiently progressive e
nough, and too devoid of passional attrac
tiveness to keep pace with the times, he
began as a revivalist aspiring to a higher
sphere in religious polemics. The Rev.
John 'Winebrenner, for that was his name,
took a new departure in the school of ref
ormation ; he believed in immersion and
woods meetings, and creating a revival in
the pure air under the canopy of the azure
blue. He also believed in feet washing.
"The groves are God's holy temples,"and
the "rivers and creeks are God's — brooks
of running waters to wash away the sins
of the world." Thus reasoned this pious
ly inclined and fervent preacher of the
Gwpel.. With this idea in his head the
Riv. - Wifi - ebrenner was i re. wit , a new
zeal for the love of God and the conver
sion of sinners..He was not expurgated
from the old church, but took his depar,
ture from the Classis and Synod.- under
which he was raised, and established a
method of his own, or as he said he was
going to found anew the primitive CHU6.CH
OF GOD. He was sincere, zealous and en
thusiastic and soon had a large number of
followers. He made proselytes hither and
yon ; it was 10, here ! and 10, there ! and
many-approached-the_mournershenchnnd_
were converted, and added to the house
hold of the elect! The Rev. gentleman
first turned from the Western sun to the'
East, in search perhaps of the Star of ,
Bethlehem. He left the Glades settlement
on the Western side of the Monocacy and
removed in the direction of Uniontown,
East of the Monocacy near Pipe creek.—
From Israel's creek, where he first im
mersed many of his disciples,he proclaim
ed the glad tidings. "To your tents, 0
Israel !" and old Isaac Appler said his
words were words of joy and holiness ! As
his followers and disciples increased in
numbers, they dropped the personal pro
noun of "Winebrennarians," and assum- '
ed the more imposing and awe-inspiring
nomenclature of THE CHURCH OF Gon.
After tarrying forsome time in Uniontown,
where he was very popular, the Rev. gen
tleman went to Harrisburg, where in ad
dition to expounding the oracles of God
verbally, he established a newspaper, de
voted to dissemivatingthe peculiar views
lie entertained upon Christian unity and
the spread of Gospel Truth. His success
appeared to be great. Subsequently, we
believe, the Rev. Winebrenner left. Har
risburg, and resided for some time at
Troxell's old place on Tom's creek.
And now we are told in Pennsylvania,
in Cumberland and Dauphin counties par
ticularly, the Church of the New Dispen
sation has largely increased in numbers
and spread all over the great West, until
the Eldership of the church of God is
regularly established in eleven of the
States of the Western Continent, with a
orking organization in as may more.—
Recently at Mt. Carroll,in Carroll county,
Illinois, a council was held—the Tenth
Triennial Council—in which 200 Elders
participated. Its proceedings were marked
with. unanimity, and the Mt. Carroll anir
ier says the Council has made a vivid and
favorable impression in that locality.
The Rev. 'Winebrenner preached in as
many as 1.5 or 20 places, probably more,
in this county, and his familiar lace and
voice is still remembred by many persons.
He was a close reasoner, an impressive
speaker,profonndly versed in biblical lore,
and made his mark on the sands of time.
There is no telling to what height and in,
fluence the Church of God may yet reach
in the United States.
BE HAPPY Now.—How old are you ?
Twenty-five? Thirty? Are you happy
to-day? Were you happy yesterday ?
Are you generally happy? If so, you have
reason to judge that you will be, happy by
and by. Are you so busy that you have
no time to be happy ? And are you going
to be happy when you are old, and you
have not much to do? No,; you will not.
You have a specimen of Aiihat you will be
Ivhen you are old. Look in the face of to
day.' That is about the average. That
will tell you what you are going to be--
What you are carrying along with you is
what you will have by and by. If you
are so conducting yourself that you have
peace with God, and with yogi fellow men
and with your fimulties; if every day you
insist that duty shall make you happy,,
and you take as much time as is needful
for the culture of youtsocial faculties,;
you will not be exhausting life, and it
.will be continually replenished. ,- 4 But if
you are saving everything up tilltYon get
to be an old man, habit will, stand , like
tyrant, and say, "You woul d enjoy
yourself before, and you alnakfliot - now."
How many men there are .who 'have
ground and ground to make Money, that
they might be happy by and by,..but who,
when they have got to be fifty or sixty
years old, have used up all the enjoyable
nerve that was in them. During their
early life they carried toil and economy
and frugality to the excess of stinginess,
and when the time came that they expect
ed joy, there was no joy for them.
Dolly Varden noses are the latest out.
Old topers have'em. "Santa Cruz" and
"Old Jamaiky" get up tbP most stunning
styles, •
KEEP TOILING.
Ho! traveler, o'er the mountain steep,
Why sink beside the way?
The night is dark, but never weep,
Soon will arise the day ;
Toil on with firm, undaunted heart,
Until the top is won ;
Strive on and fill the worker's part,
Until the toil is done.
Ho, eagle, soaring in the sky,
Sink not again to earth,
But towards the clouds of heaven fly,
Where had thy spirit birth.
Fly on, with strong, undrooping wing,
And give no look below,
Until you hear the angels sing,
And see God's roses blow.
Oh ! toil then up the steep of Fame,
Look straight toward the prize,
And win for thee a hero's name,
To live when others die,
Have faith in God and thus toil on,
And never sit thee down,
And say, "I'll never see the dawn,"
Toil on and win the crown!
Longevity.
BY DR. DIO. LEWIS
Long life comes of inheritance and_go,
a' its. We rarely see a very old person
who is not descended from a long-lived an
cestry. But this old man my have broth
ers and sisters who died early. For the
most part; this difference comes of differ
ing personal habits. In order to live long
we must inherit the capacity, and this in
must be supplemented by good
habits. The two must go together. No
matter though a man's parents may have
lived a hundred years, if he is a glutton
lie will not probably surviAe seventy years.
The person who promises long life is of
medium size, good lungs , slow pulse, good
digestion ; strong teeth , firm muscles,tough
skin, corse hair, with smallish head and
quiet, cheerful temper.
It is rather too late to advise a man
with reference to possessing these qualities,
or with reference to the parents of whom
he has been born,but it is not too late to
advise any or every man with regard to
his personal habits. These constitute the
most important factor.
Among the more important habits I
name the following :
One must live in the strong sun-light.
Even a slight .shadow means bad diges
tion with plants, animals and men. A
plant removed from the window to the
back end of the parlor, even though it be
light enough there to read, soon'becomes
pale and refuses togrow. A woman who
spends her days within doers becomes pale
and sickly.
Good air is ituportazit. An unventila
ted house produces an irritable condition
of the tissues. Then - instead of that un
conscious, perfect working of the several
parts, there is a feverish friction which
prematurely exhausts the vital forces.
Temperance is vital. Temperance in
food is especially important. One may
drink wine, or beer, or spirits to pcca.sion
all intoxication, and live M old age, but
a big eater rarely reaches seventy years.
A bottle of wine will make a man stagger
and talk like a fool, but it will not clog
and foul his system like a Thanksgiving
dinner.
There is no system of diet or class of
food which carA justly present spec 1.11.1
claims; it is moderation, temperando.—
And no definite rules can be given. 'rhe
hod must be adapted to the individual
and to his occupation. A young man is
at work upon a farm mowing, digging
and perspiring. Two pounds of solid food
are needed. Igt lie changes to the house
life and sitting of a college. His .food, as
to quantity and quality, must be reduced
at least fifty pet cent. The fool, I repeat,
must be adapted to the person and his oc
cupation. But, lam again asked for some
rules. The larger my experience, the
more extended my observation, the less
becomes my confidence in definite dietetic
rules. It is safe enough to say that A
mericans eat too much ; that their food
is too rich, in too great variety, and bad
ly cooked.
Beyond this Ido not venture. Every
person must observe his own experiences
and conscientiously regard their sugges
tions. A man who won't do this is not
likely to ibllow any definite rules given
by smother, and at best is hardly worth
saving.
Another important condition of longev
ity is regular and abundrint sleep. I have
never read the details of a remarkably old
person's life in which "early to bed" was
not a feature. One may seem to thrive
for awhile on six hours' sleep, but his
life will not be a long one. To reach nine
ty years you must. have at least eight
hours' sleep. More than two hours should
come before midnight.
A certain amount of exercise is neces
sary to longevity ; but hard work is . not
necessary. Neither hard work, nor great
muscular development are needed. Indeed
it is doubtful if they are not rather un
favorable. Great moderation here, as in
food, is most favorable to length of life. =
Gentle labor, in the country, as in moder
ate farming, is, on the whole, most favor
able. It is practically desirable that the
occupation should be an agreeable one, a
dapted to the tastes, and that it shall sat
isfy the ambition.
Marriage, with its homeloves and mod
erate excitements, is particularly favora
ble to long life.
The absence of all unholy ambitions of
anger, hatred and jealousy, and the pres
ence of an aimiable,cheerfol, hopeful tem
po. contribute greatly to our stay in this
world.
Camels, angry cats and:eross \vices al
' ays have their backs up..
CHEOPS.—Have any of our readers an
adequate conception of the vast size of the
.Egyptian Pyramids? A man who has
lately returned from thence, and has vis
ited the great pyramid' of Cheops, wading
in the deep sand fourteen hundred feet
before he had passed one of its sides, and
between five and six thousand feet before
he had made the circuit, says, that taking
one hundred city churches of the ordina
ry width, and arranging. them. in a hol
low square' twenty-five feet on a side, you
would have scarcely the basement - of the
pyramid. Take another hundred and
throw the material in the hollow square
and it would not be full; pile on all the
bricks and mortar in the city of New York,
and the structure would not be so high
and solid as this great work of man. One
layer of bricks was long since removed to
Cairo for building purposes, and enough
remains to supply the demands of a city
of half a million of people for a century
to come, if permitted to use it with per
fect freedom., Cheops was built 2,123
years before the Christian era.
TJrE OPEN DOOR.—The daughter of a
poor widow had left her mother's cottage;
led astray by others she had forsaken the
Guide of her youth and forgotten the cov
enant of her God. She had entered upon
that path of sin which leads down so
quickly to the chambers of death.
F-erientrb - clioving, - prayer — waa - now the
mother's only resource, nor was it in vain.
He who heareth the cry of the afflicted,
heard the cry 45f that poor widow.
Touched by a sense otter sin, and anx
ious to regain that peace to which she
was a stranger, late on night the daugh
ter returned l a
home:
It was mar midnight, and she was sur
prised to find the door unlatched. "Nev
er, my child," said the mother, "by night
or by day has the door been fastened
since you left: — I knew you would come
back someday, and I was unwillin . to
keep you waiting for a single moment."
Oh ! how does this simple story set be
fore us the tender compassion and love of
our Father in Heaven, and his readiness
to receive back his wandering ones. "Thou
Lord, art good, and ready to forgive, and
art plenteous in mercy unto all them that
call upon Thee."
The Waterbury American tells the fol
lowing story : "A. gentleman visiting
here from the West went to visit an old
schoolmate who lived here. After a con
versation about old times, the subject of
the boarding house where they used to
live was brought up. Mr. A. asked Mr.
8., the visitor, if he remembered the two
girls, daughters of the couple who kept
the boarding house. "Remember them !
exclaimed Mr. 8., "you're right, I do.—
Regular old maids, too ; wonder if they
have got their false teeth yet. Don't be
lieve they have if they had to pay for
them. Ha ?ha ha ! They were a pre
cious pair weren't they Jack ?" During,
this time A's face grew long, turned red,
and all colors of the rainbow, and he fin
ally shouted out: "There, you've gone
far enough, Mr. 8., one of those girls is my
wife 1" With that A. shot off like a rock
et, and 8., after recovering himself, went
in and took someting, and immediately
started for the city.
Old Colonel S—, one of the State
Senators of Minnesota, tells this of him
self :
He was going down to St. Paul to join
the session,whcn a train-boy passed through
the car, and approaching the old Colonel
and shoving his wares into his lap, sung
out:
"Buy a deck of cards, sir nly half
a dollar."
Turning to the lad wit an expression
of countenance calculate to impress him
with the enormity of the offense, the Col
onel slowly and solemnly said :
"Myson, I never play cards ; I am a
member of the church."
"0 !" exclaimed the disgusted urchin ;
"I thought you was a member of the Leg
islature'
During a class-meeting held several
years since by the Methodist brethren of
a Southern village, Brother Jones went a
mong the colored portion of the congrega
tion. Finding there an old man notori
ous for his endeavors to serve God on the
Sabbath and Satan the rest of the week,
he said :
" Nell, Brother Dick, I'm glad to see
you here. Haven't stole and turkeys
since I saw you last, Brother Dick,?"
"No, no, Brudder Jones ; no turkeys."
"Nor any chickens, Brother Dick ?"
"No, no, Brudder Jones ; no chickens."
"Thank the Lord, Brother Dick ! Thats
doirg well, my Brother," said Brother
Jones, leaving Brother Dick, who imme
diately, relieved his over-burdened con
science by saying to near a neighbor, with
an immense sigh of relief:
".lEthe'd a said ducks, he'd a had me."
AFFLicrioN.—Stangely do some people ,
talk of "getting over" a great sorrow
ver-leaping it, passing it by, thrusting it
into oblivion. Not so, Not one ever
does that—at least no nature whicli 2 can
be touched by the feeling of grief' at all.
The only way to pass through the ocean
of affliction is solemnly,slowly,with. hum il-.
ity and faith, as the Israelites passed
through the sea. Then its very waves of
misery will divide and become 'to. us a
wall on the right side and on thaleftf, un
til the gulf narrows and narrows. before
oureyw.
man down Rayne, Kass., it is said
made so many pairs of shoes in a day,
tbatit took two days tp count them. He
was a smart one, but not equal to a ma
spx, in New ET.ampshireovho built so ma
ny: miles of stone wallthat: it twtt, bier all
t4a.. next day to get home again.:
82,00 PER YEA R
Mit and ,Yui`nor.
The word love in the Indian language
is "schemleudamourtehwageretar."
1 yis a bad picture like wink tea?—
Because it is not well drawn.
How long did Cain hate his brother.—
As long as he was Abel.
An , honest hack 'driver has been found
in New York. He is to be killed!, stuffkAi
and placed in Barnum's museum.
Why is a thief on a garret an, honest.
man ? Because he is above doing a bad
action.
The coquette, who wins and sacks lov
ers, would, if she were a military conquer
or, win and sack cities. . •
He who takes an eel by the tale and, a
woman by the tongue, is size to come• off
empty handed.
0. W. Holmes says that crying widows
mary first. There is nothing hir,ewet
-
weather for transplanting.
Franklin says ; "If any one - "tells you
that a workmen can become ricli other
wise than by labor and_savingolo—not
listen to him—he is a poisoner."
Greely says there will be no doughnut
crop this year. He says the cold March
weather killed the buds on all the• dough
trees.
The manner of advertising for a hus
band in Java is by placing and empty
flower pot on the portoco roof, which is as
much to say, "A. young lady is in the
house. Husband wanted."
If a sweet disposition does not come to
- altidrby nature, it wiJ come o er sy
express—if the express brings her a new
bonn -t.
Before hanging a man. in Louisiana they
let from fifteen to forty newspaper repor
ters interview him for three weeks. The•
pool fellow is then not only willing but
anxious to be hung.
The Dutchman whii had a rush• of
blood to the head, and turned himself
heels up to make it rush back again, has
since died of strabismus in his spinal
contortions.
A minister who had received a 'uber
of calls and could not hardly decide which
was best, asked the advice of his faithful
African servant, who railed, "Massa, go
where de most debble."
An editor in Ohio says he was never
happy but once, and that was one warm
day when he lay in the laps of twabloom
ing maidens,being fanned by a thirst, and
kissed by all three. •
The Belfast Journal says that . •re is
a man in that city whose boots.are so•
large that he can't turn around in meeh
less space than a - quarter of an.acre. He
got stuck on the depot grounds the other
day, and they had to put him on the turn
table to set him pointed 'sight.
A Dutch women kept a toll-gate. One
foggy daya traveler asked,."Madani, how
far is it to B—?" "Shoost a little ways,~
was the reply. "Yes, but how far ?" a
gain asked the traveler.
"Madam, is it one, two,. ibur, or five
miles ?" The good womrn ingeniously
replied, "I dinks it is !"
A gentleman nailed Dunlop remarked
that he,had never heard his name punned
upon, and did not believe it could be done,.
"There is nothing in the world more easy,.
sir," remarked a punster. "Just lop off
half the name and it is-Dun."
Belfast has a dog which goes for the
doctor when anybody is sick, without be
ing asked. "We once had a little cur,"
says the Bangor Commercial, "that would
not only "go for" the doctor, but any—
body else that passes the house,and when.
no one was sick, either."
Two eminent clergymen of Brooklyn,---
the one an Episcopalian and the other a.„
a Unitarian—met in crossing Wall Street ,
ferry. Joking being in order, the church—
man said, "Brother—, if I were not an.
Episcopalian, I would be a Unitarian."
"Why so ?" was the questiOn, "Because.
I always had my mind made up to be ei
ther something or : nnthing,', l was the an—
swer.
Julius, ef ac mob,oh clikkens cost.tert
dollars, what will a pair come to ?"
"Who bought em ?"
"What yen ask dot fill'.
"Ease, ef my wife bought em, I could
tole what they come to, mighty quick?!
"What ?" •
",T,tvo potpies and a friceass2e.'
"Look here culled frieu' daft% come ,
your eireunnunbient jokes on, dis chile„
or•he'll broke yer jaw short off bade luku
dle, hear dat."
A clever old lady;,apparently just atr
rived on a train from the, count. y, entered , :
one of the refreshment rooms at the.
Springfield (Mass.) Railroad Station the
other day, and said she •liad ]eft her para
sol on the settee. A general sehrch com
menced and lasted for some time,. Filial
ly one of the waiters asked the old dame
when she had left it to which she answei
ed, after counting up,, On her fingers,
"Well, it was just three. years ago- last
Fourth of July." There ti asgeneral
roar, much to the astoastuatut of the old,
lady, who wenraaway u!ith a very puzzled..
look upon he4-e,ountenauee.
NUMBER 4