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BLAtER
VOLUME 25.
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LOU AND LIM
Life is like a stately.temple
That is•founded in the sea,
Whose uprising fair proportions
Penetratelinniensity ;
Love the architect who builds it,
Building it eternally.
' To me, standing in the Present,
As one waits, Beside a grave,
Up the aisles and to the altar
Rolla the:Past its solemn wave,
With a murmur as of mourning,
Undulating iu the nave.
Pallid phantom glide around 8, •
In the wrecks of hope and home;
Voices moan among the waters,
•
Faces vanish in the foam ;
But a. peace, divine, unfailing,
Wzites its • promise in the dome.
Cold the waters where my-feet are,
But my heart is strung anew,
Tuned to Hope's, profound.vibration,
- Pulsing all the ether through,
For the seeking souls that ripen
,In a patience strong and true. ,
Hark! the all-inspiring Angel
Of the Future leads the choir ;
Al! tl,e shadows of the temple•
Are illumined with living fire,
:And the bells above are waking
• Chimes of infinite desire.
. For the'strongest or the weakest
There_is no eternafall ; •
.Many graves and many mourner,
But at lait—the lifted pail !
IFor.the highest and the lowest
,Blessed life containeth all.
O thou fair unfinished temple
In unfathomed sea begun,
Love, thy builder, shapes and lifts thee
In the glory of the sun ;
And the builder and the builded
To the pure in heart—are one.
aniugllautous glutting.
A LITTLE SERMON.
At a railroad-station, notllong ago, one
of the beautiful lessons which all•shobld
learn, was taught in such a natural, sim
ple way that none could forget it. It was
a bleak, snowy day ; the train was late,
the ladies room dark and smoky, and a
dozen of women, old ati young, who sat
waiting impatiently, all looked cross; low
spirited, or-stupid.
Just then a tbdorn old woman shaking
with the palsey, came in with a basket of
little wares for sale, and went about mute
ly offering them• to the sitters. Nobody
bought anything and the poor old soul
stood blinking at the door a minute, as if
reluctant to go out into the bitter storm
Again. She turned presently, and poked
about the room as if trying to find some
thing ; And then a pale lady in black, who
lay as if asleep on a sofa, opened her eyes
saw the, old women, and instantly asked
in a kind tone, "Have you lost anything,
madam ?" . •
"No, dear, I'm looking for the heatin'
place, to have a warm 'fore I go out again.
My eyes are dim, and I don't seem to find
the furnace nowhere."
"H'ere it is ;" and the lady led her to
the steam radiator, pYaced a
. chair and
showed her how to warm her feet.
"Well, now, ain't that nice ?" said the
old woman, spreading her ragged mittens
to dry. "Thankee, dear; this is proper
comfortable, ain't it.? I'm most froze to
day, beiu' lame and aching ; and not sel
ling much made me sort of downhearted."
The lady smiled, went to the counter,
bOught a cup of tea and some sort of food /
carried it berself to the old woman, and
said, as respectfully , and kindly as if the
poor soul had been dressed in silk and fur,
"Won't you have a cup of hot tea? It's
very comforting such a day as this."
"Sakes alive! Do they give tea at this
depot ?" cried the old lady in a tone of
innocent surprise, that made a smile go
around the room, touching the plummiest
face like a streak of snushine. "Well, now.,
this is just lovely," added the old lady,
sipping away with a relish. "That does
warm my heart."
While she refreilaed herself, telling her
story meanwhile, the lady looked over the
poor little wares in the basket, bought
soap, pins and shoe strings, and cheered
Ike old soul by , paying well for them.
As I watched her doing this, I thought
.what a sweet face she had,- though I, con
sidered her rather plain, before.
I felt dreadfully ashamed 'of myself
that I had grimly shaken my bead when
the basket was offered to me ; and, as I
saw a look of interest, sympathy and kind
ness come into the faces around me, I did
wish that I had been the magician to call
it out.• It was only a kind word and a
friendly act ; but somehow it brightened
that dingy room wonderfully. It chang
ed the faces of a dozen women ; and I
think it touched a dozen hearts, for I saw
many eyes follow the plain, pale lady with
sudden respect; and when the old woman,
with many thanks, got up to go, several
persons beckoned to her and bought some
thing, - as if they wanted to repair their
negligence.
There were no gentlemen present to be
impressed by the lady's kind act; so it
was not done for effect, and no possible re
ward could be received for it, except .the
thanks of a poor old woman. But that
simple little charity was as good as a ser
mon, and I think each traveler went on
her way hetter for that half-hour in the
dreary station.
THE LOST. WILL.
Two or three months ago J. Rowell, the
. tu,rniture dealer on Michigan avenue, set
.about overhauling a 'desk filled with old
papers—papers which had accumulated
on his hands for .several years, until he
could hardly say where or how he got
the most of them. After throwing away
a bushel or more of the documents, he
came upon a. paper sealed and tied with
red tape. He could not remember hav
ing seen it before, and was-amazed when
he broke the seal and read, "Last will and
Testiment of Israel Whitworth." Getting
further down, he found that, the paper
was nine years old, and that the will gave
to -"Margaret Davis, my, sister, the Gor
den farm, situated two and one-half miles
from St. Joseph, Mo., together with all the
the sum of $5,000 in bank 'in St. Joseph
(unless I shall have withdrawn it), my
gold watch, my household furniture, and
the one-half of what my honk) in St. Jo
seph may bring at private sale." • •
So read the will as far as the sister and
' her kin were concerned, and then Whit.
worth made bequests to several other rel
atives. The will was dated "Detroit, Au
gust 10, 1863." It occurred to
that the will :might he - of some ac
count to some one, and he wrote to Mrs,
Davis, directing the letter td St. Joseph,.
Mo. In about two weeks he received an
answer from her, dated at Weston, dame
State, his:letter having been forwarded to
that point. She stated that her blother•
had been dead nearly eight years, an that
she had never known of a will. The prop
erty. had been divided among four near,
relatives of the deceased, or should have
been but of three them had Cheated her
out of raost — efWt — fe - 11 to her - m
ing up. She further stated that her bro.
.ther had a Cousin in Detroit. years ago,
and that he was in this city on a visit a
bout the date of the will. The cousins
name was signed as one of the witnesses,
and : a Mr. Johnson, now 111 Cincinnati
was the other witness.
Rowell sent on the will, and Friday
last he received a grateful letter front the
woman, who said that the will had been
admitted to probate there, the witnesses
called on, and that she had. been put in
posession of neatly $20,000 through his
finding the will. She cautioned him to
look out for an exprkss package, and will
probably send something handsome: The
puzzling thing of the whole is that Rowell
can't tell ,when or where he got the will,
nor imagine how the deceased came to
leave it where it would.fall into the hands
of a stranger.—Detrojt Paper.
Home the Centre of the World.
We all agree that home is the centre
of the world. We all say fine things a
bout the hearth-stone and. the altar-fires
and thee household graces, and most of us
dearly love to go visiting, because we find
homeAt little duller than any other place.
Yet marriage is not more sacred, birth is
not more joyous, death is not more serene
than the place they santifiy.. From home
go out the. forces of the world. • Through
home they exist. When a man has estab
lished a dwelling-place, he has attained
a new dignity. But:it is the woman who
makes the home. She is not more the
mother of the race than keeper of its high
est trusts. lithe home be tedious, the soul
of it has missed its aim..
While the education and the home-life
of girls continues the flimsy and aimless
thing that it is to-day, two things arecer
tain. First, that they cannot become wise
wives and mothers, and while the majori
ty of them will not find it out, a majority
of the minority, tormented by an ignorant
longing for something other and, to them,
better, will do much to bring the noble
cause of womanly• advancement into dis
repute. Second, that it is men, the gov
erning class, who insist on a higher stan
dard and a nobler life for woman. For,
until they do, the tyrant' of cook and of
the dress-maker will continue, and, on
many a New Year's day to come, sober
men will have to beseech careless women
not to put dire temptation in their way.,
nor to insult them with the supposition
that permission to guzzle costly liquor and
to gorge costly viands, is.the hospitality
they enjoy and prefer.
THE YEARS.—How long the years
seem when we are young ! To wait a year
a "whole year;" for anything, appears to
fifteen like an interminable probation.—
Looking back when one is fifty, a lifetime
seems hardly longer than a twelvemonth
seemed in youth. As we grow older, the
years between us and the great unknown
future are so few that we can almost see
their moments slipping away from us as
the sands drop in an hour-glass. Child
ren have no idea .of economizing time.—
Time and eternity look to them all as one
there is plenty of space in which to fly
kites and dress dolls. The middle aged
man flies his kite also—fancies, dreams,
speculations, he calls them—the middle
aged woman dresses her doll, and is,
herself the gayest doll of ,all ; but the
middle-aged take their pleasure solemnly
as the-old Frenchman had it—solemnly
but none the less earnestly. The year
1872 goes out, and the. year 1878 comes
in. It means fun, and frolic, and hope to
onehalf the world—to the other half it
means sadness, and longing, and memory.
Yet had we but faith enough, we are all
younifor "the eternal years of God.
The very'vromt of men can make home
happy by—keeping away from it. '
The .devil is not always at one door.
A TAMMY NEWSPAPER-DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWS. ETC.
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., THUBSDAY, APRIL 10, 1873.
HIS OWN DETECTIVE.
Old Jacob Britzer kept the village store
in Bucksport. We say the village store,
because at was the largest,• and, in fact,
the only store of any consequence in the
place. Like all country store keepers, Ja
cob kept foi sale dry and moist goods of
every description, and both village and
suburban gossips made his place their cen
tre and tilting ground. To this the tra
der did not object, because he was himself
of a social turn, and because these hang
ers on were all customers. Occasionally
Jacob missed certain articles from his
shelves and counters which he knew had
not been sold, and he could only imagine
that they had been stolen.. This thing
continued for more than a year, and Britz
er, with all his watching, was unable to
detect the thief. There were several' whom
he deemed capable of the deed, but he
could not fix the crime upon either of them.
At length, one Monday morning, Jacob
Britzer entered his store ; and upon remov
ing the heayy wooden shutters from the
owsledisccatered that the 1 r_ e
glass-top show case, neat the main en
trance, had heen robbed of nearly all its
'contents. At least three hundred dol
lars' worth of fancy goods had been stol
en—a large amount for the country store
keeper to lose. Jacob had locked up his
store on Saturday night, and had not vis
ited it since until now, nor had the keys
been out of his keeping. For a brief space
he was tiun s er struc —t en, or snot ier
brief space, he collected his thoughts, and
reflected. His course of action was resolv
ed upon. His first decided movement was
to lock the door by which he had entered
and draw the curtains over the windows.
Next he replenished the show-case from a
fresh stock which he chanced to have on
hand, making it. look so nearly as it look
ed on Saturday evening that not even his
clerk was likely to detect any change.—
Thus the matter, so far as he and his store.
were concerned, was locked in his own
I ana so tie meaff
ascertained that the thief had gained en
trance by a rear cellar window, and hav
ing so covered the tracks of the guilty one
that his clerk. would not observe then,
he opened his store, and prepared for busi
ness. Half an hour later the .clerk came,
and detected nothing out of the way.—
(This clerk, we may remark, was Jacob's
own son).
The day passed—customers came and
went as usual—the gossips chatted over
their beer and cheese, while old Jacob was
attentive and affable, never betraying by
word or sign that anything had happened
amiss.- In the evening Peter Hawks came
in. This Peter Hawks was a farmer, own
ing quite a place near the outskirts of the
village,who had of late been leading a I*
rather aimless and thriftless. It had . -en
Peter's custom to spend a good part . the
day in the store, but on Monday a e had
not put in an appearance until .` er tea ;
and even when he did come • = failed to
talk with his usual volubility, .ut remain
for the most part silent, wa hing what
others had to say.,
.At length the hour grew late, and one
by one the gossips dropped away until Pe
var was left alone with Jacob and his son.
The solitary customer arose from his chair
and after a little nervous hesitation he spa
proached the storekeeper with,--;-
"Ah, Jacob, that was quite a loss you
met with. Have ye any idee who did it ?"
"Who did what ? asked Jacob, dropping
the piece of cloth which he was folding,
and looking up.
"Who robbed you show-case last night ?"
"Yes," answeaed Jacob, with stern
promptness—"l know exactly who did
it ?"
"Eh, who
"You did it?
"Me!" gasped Peter, quiveringly.
"Aye—you did it. I know you did it ;
and thus far the secret is entirely between
you and me. You are the .only other
living man besides myself who knows
that I have been robbed , at all !. •
And then Jacob went on to explain to
his customer how he had managed to
detect the thief. Peter Hawks Was forced
to own up ; and in consideration of his
returning the goods last stolen,and paying
for those stolen on previous occasions, and
also promising to steal no more, he w
let off. But he did not remain much •
longer in Bucksport. Having settled with
Jacob Britzer, he made' all haste to sell
his farm and remove to parts where the
story of his shortcomings was • not known.
DISAPPOINTED IN LOVE.—In the Lun
atic Asylum on .Blackwell's Island there
is pretty fair-haired girl about twenty
years of age who hits not spoken a word
since she entered the asylum over two
years and a half ago. Her name is Lora
Beekman, and the insanity was cam ed by
disappointment in love.. She was engaged
to be married to a young man who, short
ly before the wedding day, left her and
became engaged to be married to another
woman. The keeper and his assistants
have resorted to many expedients to make
her spellk, but her strange silence remains
unbroken. With her arms tightly drawn
over her breast, she sits on the same stool
and listlessly stares.at the walls the whole
day long, recognizing nObuiy and seem
ingly unconscious of the presence of oth
ers, The most romantic episode in this
deranged woman's life is that once a year
a young man comes and plapes a bouquet
of flowers in her hands, after which he
immediately goes away. The name and
residence of this mysterious visitor are un
known.
It is remarkable that every day in the
week is by diffeient nations devoted to the
public celebration of religious services.—
Sunday by the Christians, Monday by the
Greek, Tuesday by . the Persians, Wednes
day by the Assyrians, Thursay by the
Egyptians, Friday by the Turks, Satur
day by - the Jews.
A LOVING II EMIT..
Give me a loving heart!
'Tis better iar than fame,
Which is at best a fleeting thing-:-
The breathing of a name;
, For laurels gathered - fresh and green,
Where Rowers in beauty bloom— ,
• When bound around a mortal brow,
Soon wither in the tomb.
Give me a loving heart!
To cheer me on my way ;-
Thro' this dark world of sin and pain,
To one of endless day,
For naught can calm the troubled breast
Or holier balm impart.
To the life-weary pilgrim tkere—,
' Than one true loving heart! •
Believe in Yourself.
'lt is said when John C. Calhoun, was
in Yale College he was ridiculed by his
fellow students for his intense application
to study. "Why, sirs," he replied, "I
am forced to make the best of my, time
that Ima acquit myself Creditably when
lin ongras• • aug ow • *‘• t •
he exclaimed, "Do you doubt it? I as
sure you if I were not convinced of my
ability to reach the National capitol as, a
I representative within the next three years
I would leave college this very day !"--;
Let every yciting man thus - have faith in
himself and earnestly take hOld
.of life,
1 scorning all props or buttresses, all crutch
es or .life preservers. Let him believe
with Pestalozzi, that no man on God's
I earth is either willing or able to help any
other man. Let him strive to be a crea
tor, rather than an inheretor—te bequeath
rather than to borrow, instead of wield:
ing the rusty . sword of valorous forefath
ers,- let - him forge his own weapons, and,
censcious of the God in him . and the
providence over him, let him fight his
own battles with his own good lance.—
Instead of sighing for an education, capi
tal or friends, and declaring that 'if he
luid - only - these, - he - would-be -somebody,"
let him remember that, as Horase Gree
, ley said, he is looking through the wrong
end of the tel %tope ; that if he were only
somebody, he would speedily:have all the
boons whose absence he is bewilling. In
stead' of being one of the foiled poten
tialities, of whieh the world is
of, the subjunctive heroes, who always
Might, could, would or should, do great
things, but whose not doing great • things
is.what nobody can understand—let . ;:him
be in the imperative mood, and do that of
Which his talents are indicative. : this
lesson of selfreliance once learned and ac
ted on, and ,every man will discover
in under God, the elements
• • 'Reifies of usefulness and honor... ,
Guarding the Children.
No time, expense, nor zealous care i I.
too great to bestow on the • cidture nut'
correct training of your children. • There;
is no dace higher than that of tvteacher
of the, youth, as there is nothing on earth
so precious as the Mind,' charactiH:• and'
soul. Nn office'shoulg , be regarded; With
greater respect. The first mindif in a•coni. 2 .
munity should be encouraged: to
,tissuate
it. Parents should do all but impoverish
themselves to induce those to become the-I
guardians and guides' of their children=
To this good all their show and luxury
should be sacrificed. There they should
be lavish while they straiten in t every-,
thing else. They should wear the cheap:
est cloth* live on plainest food, - if they
can no other way secure to their families.
the best of instruction. They shonld,htive
no anxiety to accumulate property -for
their children provided • they can place
them under influences which AN ill awaken
their faculties, inspire them with• higher
principles, and fit them to bear a manly
part in the world. No language can ex-.
press the cruelty of that economy which,
to leave a fortune to a cbild,starve I
tellect and impoverish his heart. And"
yet how many otherwise sensible and well
meaning people delegate the care and in
struction of their ofTspringduring the ten
derest days of childhood to ignorant ser
vants! .It is no wonder that they grow
up slangy and wicked. The mother alone,
or some person her equal, should *have
the care of her children.
A Boy at the Palace Glite.
A little boy in England wished very
ch to see the queen ; so he determined
to ,at once to her palace, and ask to : •
her. But the sentinel on guard • : to
only laughed at the boy, and pushed uim
.aside with his musket. The lad could not
give up his purpose, now he had collo so
far. Not till the soldier threatennl jto
shoot him did he turn and run away. One
of the young princes saw hiia crying, and
on learning the cause said, with .a smile,
"I'll take you to the 9 . ueeni." and past
the guards he walked, into the very pres
ence of his royal mother. With surprise
she asked ber son about the lad ; and
when she heard bis story, she laughed, as
any kindhearted mother would, with some
kindly words, sent the delighted boy a
way with a bright piece of money . in his'
hand.
It is a hard matter for tbe poor to gain
admittance into the presence of sal earth
ly sovereign. But the way into the, pres :
ence of the great king is always open, and
even the beggar in his rags is welcome.--,
Just as this prince brought the child who
longed to see her into his mother's prey-,
ence, so Christ takes us by the hand and
leads us into he presence of his heavenly
Father. For the dear sons sake we are
made welcome. Without Him we can
never be admitted. Never forget when
you pray to God, to ask all blessings for
the sake of Jesus, for in no other way will
prayer ever be heard or answered. No
one who longs to see the King in His beau
ty but will find the Prince of Life ever
ready to lead hi up to His very throne.
• Subscribe for your home paper.
The Giving Deacon.
. Once' there was a deacon noted for re-
Maxkable liberality. . To every benevo
lent and Christain enterprise he contribu
ted with princely munificence. His breth
ren became appreheiiiiveethat he would
,seduce himself - to poverty:
'Jager due 'consultation the pastor was
appointed to inform the deacon that his
brethren thought him too liberal, and wish
ed him to curtail his gifts. The pastor en
tered on the performance of the duty with
ill possible delicacy.
".My broter," said the watchful shep
herd, "I am requested by yoUr brethern
to say too you that they fear you are too
liberal, and are in danger of bringing
yourself Ind family to poverty. They wish
y9u to be more sparing in your gifts."
"But," replied the deacon, "I have not
yet reduced myself to poverty my family
are comfortably supported, my children
are receiving an education; and my prop
erty is constantly increasing in value. I
emi , not give less—l have been thinking
lately that ~I ought to give more."
The • astor found the deacon incorrigi-
s y • ent on I tang goo • ; an. re
home, deeply impressed with the words of
the generous man, and earnestly medita
ting on his strong faith, and disinterested
liberality.
Early next morning the deacon saw his
pastor approaching with hurried steps.
"My brother," said the minister, "I was
wrong and you were right. The Lord con
vinced me lust night, in a dream that you
will lose nothing by your liberality. I
thought I saw you standing on the ocean
shore, with a large basket of crackers on
your arm. You took out han#ful after
handful of crackers and threw ihem into
the water. The receding wave quickly
bore them out of sight, and I thought your
crackers would soon be all wasted. But
I looked a little while, and I saw the rais
ing wave bringing them hack to your feet
swelled into large loaves."
, "Why," said the pious deacon, "that is
just - what I -- have — been-taught-by-my -Bi
ble: "Cast thy 'bread upon the waters ;
for thou shalt find it after manydays."
Abrupt Proposils.
Speaking of - abrupt proposals of mar
riage, we will cite the case of a gentleman
who had retired from business at the age
of forty,, and built himself a beautiful
house, determined to. enjoy life to the ut
niest. Ond day . a friend was dining with
him, and said, jokingly:
"You have - everything here that earth
can desire but's wife."' •
"That's,true,:ll.l think of it ;" and then
.rdapsed intn silence for 'a few minutes, at
the end of whiph time he rose, begged to
'be exeuso for a short time, and left the
He siezed 'his bat 'and went to a neigh
or's, and tilts shown to the parlor, with
a itlformatian ,that neither master nor
;'stress, were at home. Ile told the ser
liftb 't a he wanted neither, and requested
Viebousekeeper be sent to him. She
aiAtbe . gentleman thus addressed'
baire .known you for many
aiglihave justbeentold that I want
vafe:',You'aie the only woman I knoW,
that I•Would he willing to trust mrhip
pinees with, end if you agree, we will be,
uptantlk married. What is.your answer?"
Sarah kneLthe man that addressed her,
thathis .offer was serious, and
as w,el),,w i eighed as though considered for
answered him in the same ,
spirit:=' - ' •
4,l, 4a i tte r : l., • •
"Wayink he ready in an hour 2"
"I '
4 R-abalf.niurn for you in that time."
Whiell'his 'did, the gentleman who had
sUggastedilieldea • accompanying him to
the clergyman's. ..Many years have pass
ed since then, and neither pactiohas seen
any cause to regret the abruet proposal.
Here,* another case, which will bear
relating. "kmerchent Who one day . ' din
ing at a -friend's house, sat next' a lady
who possessed rare charms of conversation.
The merchant did not possess this faculty
in a very great degree, but he could do
that which was next best, he could 'appre
ciate—Which he endeavored to show by
the following mode of action :
"Do you like toast, Miss B ?"
"Yes,' responded the lady, slightly sur
• rised at the question.
"Buttered' toast?"
"Yes."
"That is strange; so do I. Let ms get
married." ' •
"There cannot be much doubt that the
lady was taking slightly aback—a fact
that did not prevent the marriage coming
off in a month afterwards, and the acces
sion of the lady to one of the finest estab
lishments in the city.
IMMORTALITY IN A NAME.—Thirty years
ago a young man entered the city of New
York in an almost penniless condition,
and without a single acquaintance in the
great wilderness of houses.' To-day he
is known wherever humanity breathes.—
His name spoken ire every city . is as fit-
miliar,,to workmen in the mines as to
thcss in the mills, and wherever lan
guage is known wad ideas expressed, the
name of this penniless, unknown and un
couth lad of thirty years ago is uttered.—
It was John Smith.
An Irishman once lived with his Lither
as a hired man. The young folk's of the
neighborhood, on one occasion, had a Par
ty to which they did not invite him. Pat
considered himself very much slighted,
but after cogitating over the matter he
brightened up, and exclaimed, "Faith,
I'll be even with 'em yet ; I'll have a par
ty mesilf, and I won't invite nobody I"
Satan is the first tramp mentioned in
history ; he went to and fro on. the earth I
looking for a Job.
DON'T LET YOUR LIFE BE A FAILURE.
—Few sadder sentences fall from tne lips
than this: "My life has been a failure."
And the saddest part is, that the fiiilure
can, rarely if ever be retrieved, because the
conviction, to most people, comes too late
—Comes in the feebleness of old age, when
the brain is weak, and habit strong ; comes
after strength for true work and self dis
cipline is gone. Says Rev. W. H. Mar
i:37
• "Society is full of failures that need nev
er have been made ; full of men who have
never succeeded ; full of women who iu the
first half of their days did nothing but eat
and sleep and•simper, andin the last half
have done nothing but perpetuate their
follies and weakness. The world is full
I say, of such people; full of melOireve=
ry trade and profession, who do not a
mount to anything ; and I do not speak
irreverently, and I trust not without due
charity, without making due allowance
for the inevitable in life, when I say that
God and thoughtful men are weary
I of
i
their presence. Every boy ought to m-
prove on his father ; every girl grow into
e d a no: • ! • -
manhood -au the mother. No reproduc
tion of former types will give the world
fhe perfect type. I know not where the
Millennium Is, as measured by distance
of time ; but I do know, and so do you,
that it is a great way off as measured by
human growth and expansion. We have
no such then and women yet, no age has
ever had any, as shall stand on the earth
in that age of peace that will not . come
until men are worthy of it."
. Young men !—Young women! Don't
let your lives be faihires. Make the best
of what God has given you. Let your
gratitude to Him for life and its noble en
dowments, be expected in' a full devotion
`of will, and thought, and strength, to.
whatever work He brings in His wise prov
idence to your hands. And remember,
that it is only 'good and useful work that
He provides. Shun evil work—work that
harnts your neighbor in any way, as you
would the deadliest thing. No true suc
cess ever comes from evil work. It may
bring a harvest of golden apples, andnpur
ple grapes ; but the apples will be like
those of Sodom, full of bitter ashes, and
the grapes sour.—Arthurs Home Magazine.
TEE Ducs..—Of this bird Josh Bil•
lines thus discours6th :
' 7 '
The duck is a foul. There aint no
doubt of this—naturalists say so. And
kommon sense teaches it. •
They are built something like a hen,
and are an up and down, flat footed job.
They don't kackle like a hen, nor kro
like the rooster, nor holler like the pea
kok, nor scream like the goose, nor turk
like the turkey ; but they quack like the
root doktor, and their bill resembles a
vetenary sergent's.
They have a woven fut, and kan float
on the water as natnral as a soap bub
ble.
They are pretty mutch all fethers, and
when the feathers are all removed and
their innards out there iz just about az
mutch meat on , them az there iz on a
krook necked squash that haz gone to
seed.
Wild duke are very good shooting and
are very good to miss also, unless you un
derstand the bizness. -
You should aim about three fut a head
ov them, and let them fly up to the shot.
I hive shot at them all day, and got but
a tail feather now'and then.
There are sum kind ov duks that are
very hard to kill, even if you do hit them.
I shot one whole afternoon three years
ago, at sum dekoy duks, and never shot
one of them. , I have never told of this
before, and hope no one will repeat it—it
is strikly confidenshall. '
Good Steers.
"1 liked your sermon very much today
with a single exception," said a worthy
pastor to a minister who had occupied his
pnlpit a portion of the Sabbath.
"Well, what was the exception ?"
"I think you used too many technical
phrases."
"Did I ? I didn't think of it."
"You repeatedly spoke of drawing in
ferences. Now, that was Greek to many
hearers."
"0, no ! Most every one, of course,
knows what we mean by drawing infer
ences."
"You are mistaken, brother, as sure as
you live ; I do not believe one-half of my
congregation understand the phrase."
"You certainly cannot be right."
"I am. Now, there is Mr. Smith," point
ing. out a' man just turning the:corner,
"who is quite an intelligent firmer ; we
will overtake him, and I will ask him if
he can draw an inference, and I do not be
lieve he will understand me."
Accordingly the ministers qiuckened
their pace, and as they came up to Mr.
Smith, his pastor said to him :
"Brother Smith can you draw an infer
ence?".
Brother Smith, thus summarily intero
gated, looked at his pastor for some fiftem
seconds quite surprised, and then rather
hesitatingly said :
"Well, I suppose I could. I've got a
pair of steerathat can draw anything to
- which they are hitched, but I shouldn't
like to on Sunday"
A Cincinniii man who suspected his
servant girl of using kerosene to kindle
the fire with thought hewould try her one
night, so he poured the oil out and filled
the can with water. When he landed in
the dining room next morning. there was
no breakfast and no fire to cook it with,
nothing but a stove full of soaked wood
and a very foolish looking girl...
Peopl© wbo live for something usually
find that there is something to live for.
$2,00 PER YEAR
NUMBER 44
Mit and Snmor.
The
_paper having the largest circula
tion. The paper of tobacco.
Why does a . widow feel her bereavnient
less when she wears corsets ? " Because
then shells so-laced.
Defrauding revenue collectors are im
pale& on stakes in Tunis. In this coun
try they, usually . walk off with the stakes.
"You're a man my own heart,
as the cook said witPhe let'her bead
at the back gate.
The man who can't_affOrd—to—take-a
newspaper- paid three dollars for. another
dog secant:ly.
"Six feet in his boots? exclaimed Mu.
Partington. What will the 'impudence
of this world come ,to I wonder ? Why
they might as well tell me that a man bad
six heads in his hat,"
traveler of a Dutch woman. "Only shocrat
a little yap." "It is four, six, eight, ten
miles ?" impatiently asked the manger.—
hYas I dinks it is 'serenely replied the
unmoved gate keeper.
The man who retu n• I is neighbor':
borrowed umbrella Narseen a day or two
ago walking in comp v with the young
lady who'passed a 1 ttg-glass without
taking d a peep. It ' thOught they are en
/
gage. .
Yotrrurtn, generosity was illustrated
in Albany recently, A littlaboy, smear
ed all over, flourishing a. dirty shingle,
.anq screaming at the top of his voice to a
comrade :"Jh Bill, Bill, get as many boys
and shingles as you 'can, for there's a big
hogsit of 'lasses busted on the pavement—
busted all to smash."
A man down in Delaware, who has
been enjoying the 'chills - and fever for
months, read in a paper the other day
that if a person afflicted thus would crawl
down a flight-of stairs head foremost just
as the chill came on, it would get disgus
ted and leave immediately. The Dela
ware man , tried but for the want of
practice, or something, he came down
more rapidly . , than was necessary—muc h more—cleartng four steps at a time, and
executing an admirable pair of admirable
flip flaps before reaching the foot of the
stairs. He has had his nose half sol e d,
and a court pl.ister map of Bo ton', burnt
district on his left cheek . and slue of the
head—and still has no faith in the ague
cure. •
Jim H., out West, tells a good yarn
about a "shellbark lawyer." His client
was up on two small charges, as shell bark
designated them (forging a note of hand
and stealing a horse.) On running hio
eye over the jury he did'nt like their
looks, so he prepared an affidavit for con
tinuance, setting forth toe absence of a
principle witness. Be read it in a whis
per to the prisoner, who, shaking his head,
mid : , "Squire I ean't swear to that dok
yment:" "Why?" "Kase hit paint true."
Old. shell inflated and exploded loud e
nough to be heard all over the room.—
"What! forgo a note an' steal a horse,
an' can't swear to a lie! Hang such in
fernal fools." And he immediately left
the conscientious one to his fate.
A DUTCH SPIRIT.-.A. Dutch widower
out West. whose better half departed on
the long journey to the spirit Land some
twelve months ago, determined the other
day to consult the "Rappers,' and endeav
or to obtain spiritual' cotumuneation, feel
ing anxious respecting the future state of
his wife. After the usual ceremonies, the
spirit of 'Mrs. flaunts," manifested by
raps its willingness to converse with her
disconsolate spouse.
'•lsh dat you Mrs. Haunts?' inquired
the Dutchman.
'Yes dearest, it is your own ivife,whn--
, "You lie, you tovil of a ghost,' inter
rupted Haunts, starting from his seat;
'my vrow epeag nottingaput Dutch, and
she neversays "tearest' mini. life. Haunts
you tief,' or Hauntsyou tirty scamp.'
And the Dutchman hobbled from 'the
room, well satisfied that the 'rapping
spirit' was all a humbug, and that he
was safe from any further emmunication
with his shrewish vrow on'this earth.'
AN Eca STonv.—During the war, one
of the Northern hotel keepers vas on a.
visit to Norfolk. The. eggs Caine to the
table boiled hard.
"Look here;" said the hotel keeper,
"Sambo, these eggs are boiled too hard.—
Now take my Watch, and boil them three
minutes by it."
"He gave the negro his splendid gold
watch. In about five minutes, the freed
man returned with eggs and watchon the
same plate. The watch was wet. "
"What have you been doing with my
watch ?" asked the Northern visitor.—
"Why,-it's all wet.
"Yes, sah," said the nem. "I Wed
de watch wid -de eggs. All right dis time.
5%13 I"
I say Jim, what is the &Terence between
the commencement_ and the beginning of
anything ?"
"I don't know," said Jim.
it?"
"There ain't any," was the reply.
"I see," replied. "Nov you tell me
this : A mule was on one side of a river
and some hay on the other, and the mule
wanted to get tho hay without wetting
his feet. Flow did he do it ?"
"I don't know" said Jo: ms:
up."
' "So did the other lon %wed animal,"
said Jim.
'11 7 114t is
"I give it.