T.• 01/).
.4azi .- iii,biti/r/a::', : sijitta4i' ..- .4t-E.liitti:-.
w. BLAIR.
VOLUME 25.
el.titti tiottrg.
I YONDER WHY.
I wonder why this world's good things
:Should fall in such unequal shares—
•Wliy some should taste of all the joys,
And others only feel the cares !
I wonder why the sunshine bright
-Should fall in paths some people tread,
While others shiver in the shade
Of clouds that gather overhead•!
.1 wonder why the trees that hang
So full of luscious fruit should grow
(Only where some may reach and eat,
While others faint and thirsty go !
'Why should sweet flowers bloom for some
For others only thorns lae found?
And some grow richon frUitful earth,
While others till but barren(ground.?
'I wonder why the hearts of some
O'crfloW with joy and happiness,
While others go theirism_ely_ways
Unblessed with aught of tenderness !
.1 wonder. hy the eyes of Lome
Shoe dd ne'er be moistened with a tear,
While others weep from,morn till night,
There hearts so crushed with sorrow here!
Ah, Nell! We may not:know, indeed,
The whys, the . wherefores of each life ;
But this we know—there's One who sees
And watches us through joy or strife.
Each life.its mission here
And only He may know the end : ;
And loving Him we cattle strongi—
Thowrh storm or sun • ii gjie
~ tiiiuit~ttt~ott i JEnditt~.
Hunting A. Home.
Poor little Nettie.! Homeless baby !
, who would care for her ,now ? She called
in vain for her mamma to wake up, and
asked why she was so cold and.still.
Night and sleep came, by and by,,and
►the next morning the coffin, with its quiet
.occupant, was hurried .away to a pauper's
. grave, with no mourner to weep, as the
earth rattled on its lid.
When Nettie came back to every-day
life from dreamland, mamma had gone
.away forever. There were no loving fin
gers to twine the golden curls, or clasp the
;baby in loving embrace.
In vain she sobbed and cried ; no one
,could comfort her.
"Mom," said little Dave Flint, "fix her
.up, and I will hunt her a home."
"Well, be off with you I" was•the quick
xeply;•'audsee that you don't come lugging
her back. I have no money to spend on
a strange young one."
"Here, Net," said the kind little fel
low, "you may have my little doggie, all
for yourself'. 'Come, now let's hunt up a
',home afore night."
Down the busy street they went, hand
in band.
"I want my own mamma !" sobbed the
child.
"Well, come on, honey, and we'll hunt
her up," and the ragamuffin satisfied his
.conscience with the thought, that they'd
never be able to find a good home, if she
was crying for her mother all the time.
"Come on, you'll get run over," cried
Dave to Nettie: whose tired . feet caused
her to he left far in the rear of her brave
little friend.
"Jesus will take care of me ; mamma
told me so," was the confident reply.
"Well, may be He will, and may belie
wont't. Anyhow, I'm a takin' care of you
.now ; so give me Fido, and hurry up.—
Let us try in here," and they entered a
little store near at hand.
'•i\lissis," said Dave; "here's a littlegirl
: as wants a home;" but they looked into
the hard cold face in vain for any help.
"Clear out of here We don't want any
beggars around us," was the woman's
rough reply.
"Come, Net, quick !" said Dave, catch
ing hold of the little one's sleeve ; "she
-might eat you up,"
On they trudged, and at every step the
little feet grew more weary.
'Oll, I can't go no more!" was the pit
iful cry.
"Let's go in here and beg a little meat
for doggie," said the boy, as they came
apposite a large butcher shop.
"What do you want, little ones ?" said
the kind Voice of an old man, as he came
from the back of. the shop.
I want my mammal" and Nettie look
ed up hopefully into the kind face above
her.
"0, Mister !" exclaimed Dave, entirely
forgetting Pido's meat, "her mother's
dead ; so is everybody she knows, but me,
And I can't always take care of her, May
be you could keep her till morning.
too far to take her back to my house.—
I'll come in the morning and hunt again,
for I'm trying to find her a home," urged
the little fellow, as the old man's face re
laxed into a smile.
"I don't dare to take her back home ;
mother mould skin both of us," he added
significantly. "You see she's mighty pret
ty," and Dave adiniring,ly pulled the
child's bonnet back from her pretty face.
"She's strong,, too, and has a good tem
per. Better take her ! In a year or two
she'll sell all your meat in a day's time if
you'll keep her," for Dave did not quite
understand the queer look which drew
down the corners of the old man's mouth.
"You are a little captain, sonny ! Come,
both of you,and let's talk this matter over
with mother," and he led the way through
the back door, into a pleasant little room,
where a sad-looking old lady sat knitting.
By dint of close questioning, Dave soon
told all he knew of Nettie's sad history.
"How much she looks like—"
"Don't mention her name," said the
old man, sternly.
"Here, sir," said Dave, "is her folks'
picture," and he pulled the little locket
from its hiding place on Nettie's white
neck.
"0, John, its Mary's child !" and the
old lady leaned back, almost fainting.
The old man took up the fallen picture,
and groaned aloud as he gazed at the two
faces.
Five years before, Mary Neighbor, the
only child of these old people, - had mar
ried contrary to their will, and was for
bidden by her father to enter her old home
.again. They had never heard from her
.until this bright summer day.
Nettie had at first found a place in the
old man's heart, and it was enough for
the lonely grandmother to know that she
was "Mary's child."
"We will keep the baby," said the old
•man tearfully, as Dave signified his wish
to go, if they were satisfied with their bar
gain.
"All right, sir ; I will be back in a year
or two to see how she gets along. Net,
p
you - keehe doggierlettget lotofintat
here."
Butt-Cut Kaylor.
About thirty-three and a third years a
go there dwelt, in one of, the rural districts
of Georgia, an old dodger ,by the name of
Butt-Cut Kaylor, who had formerly enjoy
ed the honors and emoluments pertaining
to the office of Justice of the Peace, the
duties of which he discharged with ac
knowledged 'ability' and dignity; and so
far as his neighbors were capable of judg
ing,_he_appeared_to_be_a_ver_y_honest_man._
He had however ac. uired the habit of
'trumping up' accounts against the estates
of those of his neighbors who were so un
fortunate as to 'shuffle off their mortal
coils' within the bounds of his bailiwick.
He had carried this practice on to such an
extent as to arouse a suspicion in the
minds of some of his meddlesome neigh
bors that there might be 'something dead'
some where in•'the seat of his'—financial
operations. Bob Crogan, who lived in the
neighborhood, and 'run' the postoffice at
the cross-roads, being something of a wag,
and having an idea that the Squire's hon
esty should be quoted below par, conclud
ed, with the connivance and assistance of
a few comrades to•'unearth the sly old fox,'
and expose his rascalities. Accordingly,
Bob pretended todie, was regularly shroud
ed and laid out on the cooling board in
the most approved fashion, and sorrowing
friends proceeded to spread the news of
his demise, which soon reached the ears of
old Butt-Cut. He lost no time in repair
ing to the house of mourning, carrying
with him a 'full and complete assortment'
of first-class condolence and sympathy, for
gratuitous distri hada./ among the mem
bers of the bereaved family, and the many
sorrowing friends of the supposed deceas
ed, who were present when he arrived.—
After he had relieved his heart of its bur
den of healing words and had succeeded
in a tolerable effort at crying, and was a
bout to leave the scene, he tenderly spoke
as follows :
3 Ah, poor Bob; I'm sorry he died; he
was a good feller, and I alias liked him.
When him and me went to the race at
Augusta—now nigh unto two years ago—
I loaned him a hundred dollars to beton
to a bay mar, and he lost and has never
paid me a cent of %at money from that
day to this. Poor`feller, he forgot it, I
reckon, but it's an honest debt, of course
I can get it out of his estate, and—'
Butt-Cut didn't finish the sentence; for
just at this point Bob, the -corpse, slowly
raised up in his shroud, and, stretching
out his arms toward the 01 0 rogue, as if
to clutch him, yelled :
'You are an infernal old liar, and •if
-r—'
The din and roar drowned the 'rest.
Old Butt-Cut didn't wait to see or hear a
ny more, but with the hurried exclama
tion 3 Goddlemity l' he shot through the
door, hurried to his home, 'packed his
traps,' and not only left the neighborhood,
but the State of Georgia, forever. _
A TnuTuruL SKETC.II.—Let a man fail
in business, what effect it has upon his
former creditors ! Men who have taken
him by the arm, laughed and chatted with
by the hour, shrug up their shoulders and
pass with a cold "How do you do ?"
Every trifle of a bill is hunted up and
presented, that would not have seen light
for months to come, but fur the misfortune
of the debtor. If it is paid, well and good ;
if not, the scowl of the Sheriff meets him
at the corner. A man who never failed,
knows but little of human nature.
In prosperity he sails along gently, waft
ed by favorite smiles and kind words from
everybody. He prides himself on his
name and spotless character, and makes
his boasts that he has not an enemy in
the world. Alas I the great change.—
He looks at the world in a different light
when reverses come upon him. He reads
suspiction on every brow. He hardly
knows how to move ; or to do this thing
or the other ; there are spies about him,
a writ is ready for his back. To know
what kind of „stuff the world is made of;
a person must be unfortunate, and stop
paying once in his lifetime. If he has
kind friends, then they are made mani
fest. A failure is a moral sieve ;it brings
out the wheat and shows the chaff.
. Live as long as you may, the first twen
ty years form the greater part of your life
They appear so when they are passing;
they seem to have been so when we look
back to them, and they take more room
in our memory than all the years that suc
ceeded them.
i I • - • ; I yy ;; bpi ; • AND GENERA-T. NEWS, ETC.
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 29,1872.
Fmmn:m..rm
Every one has heard this phrase, bat few
know its origin. The following account
of it is good enough to be true:
About thirteen years ago a fine looking
old gentleman from West Virginia enter
ed a store in Nashville, Tenn. • Said store
was owned by a bluff, honCst old trader,
who knew more about the fineness of the
fabrics on it—nevertheless, between the
two extremities of that shelf contriving
to make both ends meet the necessity of
the case. The Virginan cast his eyes a
round the shelves and finally remarked :
"Well, neighbor, I see you've got hats."
"A slight sprinkle," was the answer.—
"Whar ye from ?"
"Old Virginia," was the response.
"Right smart old State," replied the
Tennesseean, "but getting rather too old
to keep her hair on."
"What do-you mean ?" inquired the
old Virginian.
"Well, just what I say, uncle; she can't
keep herhair on ; for instant, now, I should
think you have been a right healthy child
of the Old Dominion, but she has shed
you at last, and, like Samson of old, that's
the way she is losing all the best har off
of her venerable bead."
The old Virginian looked around the
store rather bothered with the libe this
ennesseean was taking with his mo
State, and finally remarkcd :
"I came here to talk about hats! stran
ger, and not bar."
"Well. well, uncle, don't get wrathy
now. I was only venturing .a political o
pinion about population in general, and
on that we don't quarrel, but ;before we
look at the hats, as they are intimately
connected with heads, "spore we ,take a
mite of bald face."
The proposition was agreed to, the li
quor was imbibed, and next followed the
e-merehaat-tossed-down-four-or-fiv
wool hats of various sizes, invited the old
gentleman to select one which would fit
him. He looked at them, examined the
sizes, said they would do, and requested
the store-keeper to throw him a few more.
"That's all the sizes I've got," said he ;
"but here's a few more, if you'd like them
better," and so saying he tossed down
three more.
"Them are all right," said the Old Vir
ginian turning around, and the stout old
store-keeper blowing with exertion, de
scended from his perch, where he was
straddling from shelf to counter. As soon
as he reached the floor, the old Virginian
remarked that he had not got enough
yet.
"Oh, want 'em for your niggers ?" says
the store-keeper. "Well, why didn't you
say so when .1 was up ?" and again pro
ceeded to perch himself up like a mer
chantile Colossus. When he had plowed
himself into his former position, the old
man remarked :
"Why, stranger, I wasn't talking any
thing about niggers !" The fact is, the
old man was enjoying the extra trouble
he bad put the Tennesseean to.
"Well what do you want with so many
hats ?"
"I want them for my sons," said the
old man.
The store-keeper began to count them
on the counter. "Eight," said he, "a
pretty big spread of boys already.
swear, but here goes," and added one and
then another, and then a fourth, and pick
ed off a fifth, and finally seeing the old
man immovable, he tossed down three
more, and was about to descend himself
when the old man told him to hold on
and throw d'wn a few more.
"Oh, come, uncle," said he, "you are
joking ;" but to please him, he threw down
twenty.
"That's just one too many" amid the
old man. .
"What—you don't mean to say that
you have nineteen sons ? Whar, in the'
name of the State of Tennessee are they ?"
"They are in Tennessee—right here in
this city—up at the hotel," said the man.
"Stranner," said the store keeper, "if
you ken show me nineteen boys of your
razin', tbar's the hats."
"Hold on, then," said the old man,
and off he started. In about ten minutes
down the street he came, leading a line
of nineteen boys, marching single file
each bearing a good gun, and followed
by the venerable mother. They entered
the merchant's store, and ranked before
the counter ; the store-keeper ran his eyes
along the line with astonishment.
"And you say these boys arc all yours ?"
he inquired.
"Ask their mother she says they are,"
replied the old man.
"Don't you say so, madam?" he in
quired.
"Yes I do, and I ought to know," was
the reply.
"Well, you might, I'll swear," said the
store-keeper. "Old friend," he added, "I
ain't got a word to say—jest take them
hats, and mine too! ,
THE JOURNEY OF LIFE.—Ten thou
sand human beings set forth together on
their journey. After ten years, one third,
at least, have disappeared. At the mid
dle point of the common measure of life,
but half are still upon the road. Faiter
and faster, as the ranks grow thinner,
they that remain till now become weary,
and lie down and rise no more. At. three
score and ten, a band of some four hun
dred yet struggle on. At ninety, these
have been reduced to a handful of thirty
trembling patriarchs. Year after year
they fall in deminishing numbers. One
lingers, perhaps, a lonely marvel, till the
century is over. We look again, and the
work of death is tinishe d.
"The word "impossible" is the mother
tongue of little souls," said Lord Brough
am.
"Take my Hat"
An Unmanageable Echo.
Up in the Lehigh Valley there is a he.
tel keeper who has a mountain about a
mile from his house, and it occurred to
him that it would be a good idea if he
could fix things so that a magnificent echo
could be heard from the mountain by
persons who stood at his hotel and hallo
ed. He thought the phenomenon might
attract visitors. So he engaged a boy
named Jim Simms, who lived over on the
mountains, to be on hand every day from
twelve till two, and to secrete himself be
hind a little clump of trees, and when
he saw anybody on the roof of the hotel,
and heard them calling, to repeat their
words fifty or sixty times in a voice which
should grow fainter and fainter. He made
Jim practice, and the result was splendid.
So one day the landlord announced that
he nad discovered that a noble echo could
be heard from the roof of the hotel. He
took a lot of people up to let them enjoy
the discovery. The guests called for halt
an hour without hearing any echo. The
landlord was crimson with rage ; but just
as he_was about_to_givait_up_the voice of
Jim came sailing over the river to this
effect : "Bin down to the spring fur moth
er. Fire away now. I'm all right." The
guests smiled. The landlord glided down
tairaatirLtore-over-te=Simm-wherthe
shook James up a few times, and pave
hi lectr -- 1d sr= sh
Aim a lecture and some frash iustructitms.
In a few days the landlord, rushed up a
new crowd of guests to hear the echo. It
worked grandly for a while, but all of a
sudden it stopped in the middle of an im
pressive reverberatior. In vain the callers
strove to awake the echo. It was dumb.
But presently, in answer to an exceeding
ly boisterous cry, the following strain was
wafted across from Mr. Simms : "You
come over here and make him gimme my
knife, and then I'll holler. He's a settiu'
me." — The landlord - dropped — down
'nd char A
stairs and charged over to the mountains.
There was Mr. James Simmis lying prone
upon the ground, with a big boy holding
him down and whacking him. Mr Simms
and his antagonist had engaged in a game
of mumbley-peg, during which the big
boy had seized Mr. Simms knife, and Jim
all at once lost his interest in the echo
business: The landlord went home, as
cended the stairs, and nailed the trap
door fast. No more echoes for him.
Golden Words on Marriage.
The Golden Age concluded an article
under the caption of "Why don't they
Marry ?"
There is no question that our costly
style.of living diminishes the number of
marriages, and indirectly recruits th e
ranks of the vicious and depraved. So
long as fashion demands a style of living
which only a millionaire can really af
ford, and a young married couple must
support an expensive establishment, or be
excluded from the circle in which they
moved before marriage, a bar is raised to
matrimonial engagements which only the
very courageous or the very unscrupulous
will have the hardihood to overstep. The
opportunities that lure to a single life of
easy indulgence and dissipation, have a
constant increasing number of young la
dies educated to a life of ease, display
and extravagance, which only few young
men can possibly support them in, and be
honest. So our fashions put a premium
upon bachelorism and vice on the one
hand, and untold waste and wretchedness
on the other. What is wanted more than
anything in our society to-daylli the cour
age on the part of young men and women
to break away from the present thraldom,
and set a new and nobler fashion of inde
pendence and economy. A. score or two
of examples of that heroism which defies
the foolish sentiment and custom of the
time, and dares to be true to the noble
instincts of the heart, and live simply and
honestly in a small and quiet way, would
create a reform, if not a revolution. The
question comes to every young heart.—
Which shall I sacrifice the instincts and
affections of the heart, or the shows and
shams of society ? Alas, that so many
yield the former to the latter ! For love
is the religion of the young ; and whoever
suppresses it for the sake ofdisplay, who
ever sacrifices it for fashion, commits a
sacrilege for which nothing on earth can
atone. Love is not a thing to be asham
ed of or laughed at, but a sentiment to
be cherished and gloried in; and, at any
sacrifice it may require, is cheap so long
as it adds fuel to the precious flame which
purifies the heart, refines and ennobles the
character, and makes a manhood and a
womanhood worth the saving and worth
the name. k
BOYHOOD'S NEED.—Of all earthly un
dertakings ; none pays better than the
brooding over an ungainly boy. What
shall be done with him? Love him as
none but a mother can love. ' His destiny
is in your hands. Bear with him. Take
an interest in his affairs ; win and respect
his confidence. Go to his bedside at night
with a kiss, and a blessing, and whisper
prayer. He may pretend slumber, but
he will tell his wife of it, with tears in
his eyes, years after you have gone to
your reward.
When he sees that you are less offended
with his boyish rudeness and follies, than
with the slightest want of integrity, that
you are proud of him, content with him,
he will make the mother's great heart of
love a resting place. Let the spirit of ad
venture take him the world over, he will
never forget whose idol and pride ho was
in those days when he was "in every one's
wag, and of no use." If the mothers of
our land must engage in politics, God
bless the boys from nine to sixteen ! They
are friendless indeed! They have lost the
only being capable of steering their bark
safely through the quicksands, rocks and
shoals that lie in the way from boyhood
up to a virtuous, glorious manhood. •
COUNTRY CIIILDBEN,
Little fresh violets,
Born in the wild woods.
Sweet illustrating
Innocent childhood ;
Shy as the antelope—
Brown as a berry—
Free as the mountain air,
Romping and merry. •
Bine eyes and hazel eyes
Peep from the hedges,
Shaded by sun bonnets
Frayed at the edges,
Up in the apple trees,
Heedless of danger,
Manhood in embryo
Stares at the stranger.
Out in the hilly patch,
Seeking the berries—
Under the orchard trees,
Feasting on cherries—.
Trampling the blossoms,
Down 'mong the grasses,
No voice to hinder them,
Dear lade and lasses.
No grim propriety—
No inderdiction ;
From cit
Coining the iurest blood,
Strength'ning each muscle,
Donning health armor
'Gainst life's coming bustle.
Dear little innocents !
Born in the wild wood ;
Oh, that all little ones
Had such n childhood !
God's blue spread over them.
• God's garden beneath them ;
No sweeter heritage
Could we bequeath them !
Col. Fisk and the Newsboy.
Whatever were his foibles and fault•,
there were traits in Col. Fisk's character
creditable in the highest degree to his
head and heart. His unostentatious char
ities and generous sympathies, as illustra
ted by many kind acts to the unfortu
nate, are worthy of emulation. A little
incident which occured a few months be
fore his death is perhaps one of the most
touching that ever was given to the public.
This one Mrs.,Fisk takes especial pleas
ure in recalling, illustrating, as it does
her husband's kindness of heart and read
iness of sympathy and help to those w.ha
needed aid.
Col. Fisk bad often noticed in Twenty
third street a little crippled newsboy, and
one day he spoko to him in his bluff, off
hand manner :
"Well, my boy, how is business ?"
"Not very good sir?' was the reply.
"What is the matter ?"
"Why, you see, I'm lame and I can't
run, and the other boys get ahead of me,
and I can't sell my papers very well."
"Not a, very good look out for you, is
it ? I say my boy, how would you like to
go into business with me ?"
The boy looked perplexed and eyed the
Colonel curiously.
"I think we might strike up a bargain.
You'come to the opera house at 11 this
morning ; I've got a plan for you. Now
be on time."
At 11 o'clock the boy was there, quite
curious to know what the Col. wanted.
Hallo, boy, you're a good one. Now see
here, do you know a good place for a pa
per stand. ?"
"Yes, sir, tip top."
"Where is it ?"
"Down here at the corner."
"How much will a stand cost ?"
"Lots of money; much as fifty or a
hundred dollars."
"You don't say so ; why that's a fortune
Do you. think that money could be made
there ?"
"Yes, I do. It is a first rate place."
"Well, I'll get a carpenter to make the
stand, and I'll stock it; then you shall
take care of it, and we'll be partners, you
and I will go into the paper business."
Col. Fisk then arranged with the boy
what part of the profits he should receive,
and told him when the stand would be
ready, and sent him on his way rejoicing.
The plan was very successful. Trade was
good, and every week the boy carried his
share of the money to his partner. See
ing the boy's determination, Col. Fisk
quickly put aside the money, and one day
gave it all to the boy, releasing him from
his contract to pay any part of the money
to himself.
When Col. Fisk died there was nowhere
a sincerer mourner than this little news
boy, and a stand on the corner was heav
ily draped on the day of the burial.
Josh Billings says : "When we cum to
think that there aint on the face the earth
even one bat too much, and That there
haint been, since, the daze ov Adam, a
single surpluss muskeeter's egg laid by
acksident, we kan form sum kind ov an
idee how little we know, and what a poor
job we should make ov it runnin the ma
chinery ov kreashun. Man is a phool
enny how, and the best ov the joke is, he
don't seem tew know IL Bats have a des
tiny to fill, and I will bet 4 dollars they
fill it better than we do ours."
Yu.. , will alwus notis one thing : the devil
never oilers to go into partnership with o,
buzzy man ; but you will often see him
offer tew jive the lazy, and furnish all the
papital.
Hope has made a great many blunders;
but there iz one thing about her that I
alwus did like, she means well.
Whenever you bear a man who alwus
wants tew bet his bottom dollar, you. kan
make up yure mind that that is the size
ov his pile.
How many of us but use the expression
a dozen times a week, and have it strick
en in the throat, at least half of them ?
It is coming to be a hypocritical append
age of business and social intercourse.
A sponger goes'behind the counter, cuts
off a dime's worth of tobacco or cheese,
with an excuse that he wants a "sample,"
and the grocery man says, "that's all
right."
A customer returns a pair of shoes to
the dry goods man soiled and injured af
ter half a day's wear, grunting, "they axe
too smail,"and the merchant says, "that's
all right."
A church member puts his name down .
for $25 to pay the preacher, and when call
ed on gives only ten, the remark that
"times are too hard," and the parson says,
"thats all right."
A loafer makes' a regular practice of
coming intoa printing office, and begging
just
wants'
copy of the paper, stating that "he
wants' to read it," the editor is short, and
the editor groans with ghastly politeness,
"thats all right."
An extravaaant debtor tells a patient
creditor ever y he meets him that he
he intends to pay the account 'to-morrow,
certain," and the poor man turns off with
"that's all right"
And so it goes. It is all wrong, and
ive_say_it's_all right, and by our want of
spiit and independence encourage laziness
imp es
stinginess, and every other sin
under the sun.
rng
restriction •
The following story is told of one of the
early Mormon elders :
Miracles-were then the great forte of
the leaders of that sect, and this particu
lar elder had imparralleled success in
making proselytes, and always cautioned
his audience against believing in him or
what he said, if at the close of his dis
course they did not see descend and light
upon him a dove in bodily shape," etc.—
This confirmation of his deep truths
took amazingly with the people, who nei
ther could nor would doubt what they
saw with their own eyes and heard with
their own ears. The descent of the dove
generally took place at the close of the
services of the evening, and during a pe
tition for "the seal" to the truths he bad
spoken. One night, however, the peti
tion was finished and no dove descended.
It was repeated again and again, with
so much vehemence as to drown a voice
which proceeded from the loft of the
school house. At length a board in the
ceiling was raised and a red face appear
ed, followed by a voice, saying,—
"Faith, an' d'ye thing I'm dafe or a
slope ? "Didn't I kapo tilling you the
cat's got it ?"
That saint's usefulness as n minister in
that neighborhood ceased with the speech
of the Irishman, and both narrowly es
caped anew suit lined with tar.
GEMS Or TUOUQHT.-A day of idle
ness tires more than a week of work.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with
the mind.
Genius has limits ; virtue has none, ev
ery one pure and good can become purer
and better still.
A promise should be given with cau
tion and kept with care. It should be
made with the heart and remembered
with the Lead.
There are men who, by consulting their
own inclinations, have forgotten that oth
em have a claim to the same deference.
Truthfulness is a corner-stone in char
acter ; and if it be not firmly laid in youth,
there will always be a weak spot in the
foundation.
Memory is a patient canal, bearing
huge burdens over life's sandy desert. In
tuition is a bird of paradise, drinking in
the aroma of celestial flowers.
Every human creature is sensible to
some infirmities of temper, which it should
be his care to correct and subdue partic
ularly in the early period of life.
Rear A.vAY.—A.poor lame lady was
once obliged to send her little boy, on an
errand, late at night. On his return he
came running into the house, quite fright
ened, and on being asked what was the
trouble, said, 'iThere were two men be
hind me, and I could smell tobacco smoke
all the way, and just as we turned the cor
ner, they began to swear, and I ran away
from it
That's it, boys, run away from it j and
you cannot run too fast,nor too_ far. When
yon run away from smoking, drinking
and swearing, you are sure to be running
away from many other bad things. Run
away from tobacco and whisky, and swear
ing, before they run away with you.
Women would do well to remember—
nor can the truth be impressed upon them
at too early an age—all the brilliant
ccomplisbments, all the solid informa
tion, the learning in the world, are
nothing worth, in comparison to a pa
tient cheerful temper, and an affection
for, and perseverance in, the moral and
domestic duties of life. Home ought to
be the temple of a virtuous female ; she
away leave it occasionally, and be happy
imid the beautiful fruits and flowers of
the world ; but let her, like the bee, ga
ther honey from them all, and let that
honey be reserved for her own dwelling
let it be a, palace or a cottage,—Mrs. S.
C. Hall.
Air Castles are old as Adam, as we be
lieve there is not a man, woman or child,
but what has built or is building them.—
And they will continuo to build and be
built as long as there is a living person on
the earth, the child looks forward to the
time when it will have grown up to man
hood or womanhood, and tells what it will
do and be when it reaches that passage in
life.
Guilt is CFPF suspicious and always in
fear.
All Right.
$2,00 PER YEAR
113 Di tilßl
LT it altil Xitmor.
Why are umbrellas like pancakas ?
Because they are seldom seen after Lent.
An impartial Kansas patriot has naiu,
ed his twins Grant and Greeley.
People who are always wishing for some.
*!go: :1 Lew, should try nett-ralgio, once.
The light of a match will frighten
wolf away, it is said, But Jove matches
on't always keep the wolf from the door,
Beauties often die old maids, They set
such a value ou themselves, that • they
don't find a purchaser before the market
is closed.
e story that a man died from injuries
received from falling on the fork of a
country roall j zteis now denied.
The than who never told an editor how
he could better his news paper, has gone
out West to marry the woman who never
looked into a — loisking grass.
An exchange says: There are two
things in this world that are not safe to
trifle witl6—a woman's opinion and the
usinesre I I
' Stephen is a funny little fellow. He
asked his father if the soldiers were all
blacksmiths. "No ; why ?" Cos they're
always drillin' and fillip 0."
'When you can't think of what your
wife charged you to bring home,get 'switch
tenders" (hairpins.) They are always han
dy in the house:
grocer being solicit. • to contribute
to the building • new church prompt
ly subscribed his • mg to the paper in
following
eccentric m : • ner John Jones
(the only place in to .11 'here you can
get 11 pounds good urgar for a dollar)
25 c • nts.
A Pekin, 111., woman was asked by the
preacher if her husband feared the Lord.
She replied : "Fear him ? why, bless you;
he is so 'feared of him that he never goes
out of the house Sunday without taking
his gun along."
Two brothers were to be executed for
some enormous crime. The eldest was
turned off first, without speaking; the oth
er, mounting the ladder, began to har
angue the crowd : "Good people," said he,
my brother hangs before my face, and
you see what a lamentable spectacle he
makes; in a few moments I shall be turn
ed off. too, and then you will see a pair
of spectacles."
The Boston Sunday CourieP says :
thirfty citizen who efected insurance on
the life of his wife to the amount of $lO,-
000, the other day took home a box of
little red Maryland plums and enjoyed a
whole evening in watching his wife eat
them. His enterprise had its reward.—
Deducting $298 for funeral expenses he
is now $9,702 richer than he was a week
ago,'?
A farmer, whose cribs were full of corn
was accustomed to pray that the wants of
the needy might be supplied ; but when
any one ut needy circumstances asked for
a little of his corn, he said he had none
to spare. One day, afier hearinglis fa
ther pray for the poor and needy, his lit
tle son said. to him :
"Father, I wish I had your corn."
..'Why, my son, what would you do
with' it ?" asked the father.
The child replied,
your prayers."
Aha! the centenarian hero of Water- ;
100, the shower of toads, the sea serpent,
the young lady with a lizard in her atom
ache, the mastodon's jaw bone, the ancient
negrese that nursed the Father of his
Country, the calf with two heads, and the
lady that makes a needle-book of herself,
becoming somewhat stale, the vigorous
old woman of eighty-five who does all the
work on a large farm with her own hands,
and supports a numerous 'family of great
grandchildren, has started on the
. rounds
again. She is sojourning just now in
Brown county, Ind.
In a Detroit barber's shop the other day
a purblind colored customer rose from his
seat to take one of the barber's chairs,
when, looking at one of the pier glasses,
he saw, as he supposed, another gentleman
about to take the chair. The old fellow
at once apologized for rising out of his
turn, and was about to do the same. He
again arose, and the mysterious stranger
followed. This was repeated three or four
times, much to the customer's disgust,
when be finally yelled out : "If it's your
turn, why don't you sit down? amidst
shouts of laughter from the rest of the cus
tomers,
The Rev. Mr. Laurie, of Erie, exchan
ged with Dr. Chapin one Sunday, and
soon after he appeared in the desk, people
began to go away. He watched the exo
dus a few minutes, and then rising, said,
•in a deep voice, clearly heard throughout
the Church, and with just sufficient Scotch
brogue in his voice to give raciness to his
words : those who came here to
worship Almighty God will please join in
singing a hymn, and while they are doing
so, those who came here to worship E. H,
Chapin will have an opportunity to leave
the church." His audience did not di
minish after that.
Thirty thousand head of buffaloes were
killed during the month of May, oit tho
South-western plainkfor their hides
The first cost of a bulram-robe is noir lnit
two dollars. This can only result in tha
early. extinction - Or tllesii rumnold; '
( 1 1
1 •
"I would answer