i' r
~
' 4 i ~,~'
W. SLAII
VOLUME 25.
~Seigtt poet-IT,,
FASHION'S IDOL.
Such weft thou in thy, youth I—thy youth!
Poor heart, h . ast thou indeed been young?
Where is the freshness arid the truth.
7 at roan. • '
Where arelh'e days—forgotten now,
When gentle joy vas in thy glance,
And thy young steps went gaily through
The mazes of the merry dance?
And where the after years, whose light,
Though false, and full of empty glare,
:Ouzzled thy vain, bewildered sight,
' And made the present ull thy care ?
' , When, victims to thy practised wiles, .
'Hundreds bowed down the willing knee,
And praised thy singing and thy smiles—
. (For none'could sing and smile like thee!)
Where-are those lover-slaves? They kneel
To-some_new_idol of the hour;
And teach some. heart that yet.can fee
To scorn all love, save love of power
I'lessnre, w o or' "'
is :1" 1 11 . 1
His lagging 161111 at length itaB furled;
And dark• e t %It ig=./
Thou urvorite ui a lick :e world!—Selected.
attifiTt
111201111 -- '1
READY FOR COMPANY.
One beautiful afternoon last May, my
husband - proposed - that - we call - on - sane
of our new parishioners; so, armed with
minute directions as to names and places,
we started. We Lira paused before a large
two.stury house of pleasin exterior; - rang
bell and_waited for admittance.i We
'mad hear a hustling and a reeding with
in as if the chairs were pnicticing a 'quick
step.' and alter a time a hurried step is
the hall ; and then the door was opened
the least mite and a woman peered out.
When she recognized us she threw the
door back, saving as she did so : '
"Why, la if it ain't, the minister!—
Walk right in." We did so, and were
ushered into a. ftout room, and seated iu
some of the lively chairs.
"Nov yell% excuse me, won't you ?"
said our hostess. "You see I'm cleaning
house, and everything is up in arms ; you
know"—turning to me- , -"that such times
must come in every housekeepers experi
ence."
I really could not assent to this, and as
she commenced to give a valuable account
of herself; work, and family, I could but
notice her appearance. She was a remark
ably plain woman, and in, her soiled and
tattered dress, with uncombed hair, and
Ale odor of sort soap clinging to her bare
:red arms and hands, she became a perfect
fright. We made our call as short us pos
sible, dud she did not prim us to stop long
er.
"The bad we happened in there t his af
ternoon, wa,n't it ?" quoth my husband
as we regained the street.
"Or else too bad that she was in such
a condition," 1 responded, almost indig
nantly, as her uncumely visage ruse be
fore me.
We went on and decided that Mr. P's.
must be our next resting place, as we bad
been informed that he was "aipt to be a
little jealous if neglected!' Mrs. P., a
pleasant faced old lady came trotting to
the door in answer to our summons.
"Well, there 1" said she, "you must ex•
euse me from shaking kinds, thr I've been
cleaning my stove funnel this afternoon,"
and she hell up her two hla# hands :"
Sybil, that's my daughter, told me some
body would come if 1 did it, but I thought
Dot."
filler sitting room was in order, howev
er, and we should have enjoyed our call
if the "store funnel" could have been ex
cluded from the conversation ; but we
bud to hear how it plagued her, and why
it needed her .attention, etc., until it was
time to take our departure.
Four more calls we made that afternoon
hut only at two places did we find the la
.dies in readiness to redeye us; and it
was really painful to see the flushed fac
es, and the hurried attempts to "fix up"
among those who were under bondage to
housework. Since then we have not al
ways found the majority of the unprepar
ed quite as large; hut in making,halldoz
en calls we expect to find two or three
families, at/least, who groau at the sight
of "the minister and his wi .e." Of course
amoug the very poor we do not look for
taste or elegance, since they have net the
power, usually to spend either money or
time fur themselves; but the examples
given are from that class which is called
"well to du," and were simply the result
of carelessness.
Now I contend that it is the duty of
every lady who is a mistress of a house to
make herself agreeably presentable, at
least, during the afternoon of each day.
Hundreds of women throughout the New
England States do their own work, either
from preference, or inability, to precure
competent help ; and this is all right; hut
it is not all right for half the number to
look from day to day and week to week
like superannuated scarecrows. In the
first place, to most people, old and soiled
clothing is actually demoralizing, unless
they are engaged in labor that demands
such a garb. For example, take.a con•
firmed invalid who has writ' the same
wringled wrapper for a week, who looks
and feels disgusted with life, and 'dress
her in something bright and fresh. She
feels like a new creature. Just so with
the housekeeper. When tie weary round
of duties is done, she is so thankful to sink
into arockins chair and rest her aching
feet. But Oh, the old dresal There it is,
part and parcel of the hurry and worry
of work, sheltering a bad feeling in its ev
vmL.,;„t,,...„5.,Ar_•.:0_:,._•_ .`. " L if
somebody should call I" It must come off
and theiliair_unistfie,combed, good boots
put on, and a.collar and cuffs also, - before
the fretful, discouraged weariness can be
banished.. Self respect -deinands it, and
so does respect for others.
But this "dressing up . ' must not be con
fined to spasmodic efforts put forth on par
ticulary fine atternbons ; it must become
a habit, fixed as the dinner hour, and then
hen some I articularly desirable person
calls, there w► a e none o • f• is
tification that must follow, where one is
'flaind unprepared. But some may say:
"It is impossible for me to get through with
my work until it is• too late to pay me for
dressing." Well, perhaps it is impossible;
although every housekeeper ought to learn
that old saying: "There is more in calcu
lation than in hard work." But suppose
there is more _than can bettecomplished_
in the forenoon? Then let that portion
which admits of neatness in dress,-be post—
poned •until afternoon; ironing, fin. in
stance, in preference to bak:ng.
Many farmer's wives fall unconsciously
Imo careless lalsits - in - regard-to-dress i -or
account of many peculiar duties devolv
cm. I remember that a "city
cousin" when asked his opinion o country
• • •• I • "The couutr -is all right, but
the iudius are all homely
very far from being true. As far mi com
132.
concerned, they are notiT - whit - behitmk - his
own simpering sisters ; but their dress was
so inharmonious that it completely ob
scured all• personal charms.
Now isn't-this all' wrung? Out in the
free, open country, where the breezes are
.so pure, the landsCapa so enchanting, and
everything out of doors so lovely, ought
not the people to be correspondingly at-.
tractive? - Ought not -a-farmer's wife or
daughter to dress so that she can look a
trim robin red breast in the face, pluck a
rose bud 14 her hair; or welcome callers
and visitors without a blush oran excuse?
I saw a large engraving not long since,
called, "An Afternoon in Spring." It rep
resented a country scene; a man was plow
ing in the field, crows sat on a section of
rail fence, a flock of sheep ran hither and
thither over the
. hillside, and in one cor
ner of the field, busily engaged in watch
ing the sheep was a great barefooted coun
try girl. I felt like shaking the artist,
for any one who has lived on a farm, know
that girls in their "teens" have very little
time to leap against a rail fence and gale
at sheep. Nor are they often seen with
bare feet; but, alas the limp, illy. fitting
dress that our artist has introduced, is too
often seen. I could but think how this
same idle lass would scamper for the house
if she should chant* to see a stranger ap
proaching; and hope that she would have
ample time to change her dress.
Thank fortune ! print has once more
reached the good old price of ninepence
per yard, and light print dresses are won
derfully becoming ; so there's no excuse
for housekeeping in city or country. They
may be ready for company if they
for "where there's a will there's a way."
One Nigger in the Corn Field..
They tall a story at Harrisburg of s
conversation between Senator.Granam an
Senator McClure. The story runs that
Colonel McClure meeting Graham began
urging him to join him in his efforts to
Aecure reform.
"Pah ! Aleok," said Graham, "you're
an ass. Now listen. When I first came
to Harrisburg you were in your prime.—
You figured in and fingered everything
within your reach, froni the tonnage tax
straight down. Well, I came to the cap
ital clean bent on reform.' There was
nothing•good enough for me. The world
was a world of rascals. So I set in and
pitched about, and to my own mind,
knocked everything skyward. But some
hew or other, with all •my speeches and
prophecies and forebodings and all that
port of thing, the old world kept moving
along, and our great State got greater,
and the people were plethoric of prosper
ity and so on. All of which I could not
understand. Pondering over the matter,
one day I met ati old nigger, and a runa
way at that, and he seemed to divine my
thoughts. "Dar's trouble on your mind,
boss," he said ; and I told him what it
was. "Well, well, well, Massa," said he,
"bar up till I talk a bit. De poor man
which is me, was horn in Fayquier coun
ty, away down in old Virginia.
Massa Pollard worked two hundred of
on ►he old ground, and we sweeped a
say a corn field like so much dirt. At
the last, dar was a hard time, and one
nigger was sold yar, and anoddor dar,
and de rest elsewhar. And de old man
which is me, went with Massa Wise. And
de old masse had nobody else 'cept Cloe,
and she was de nues. But he had. a farm
full of corn, and do old man, which is me,
was put out to scratch it in. And I work
ed in de field from day to day, and from
de dawn to de dark. And, by gosh! do
you know, massa,. dat dat cornfield no
more seemed to disappear dan de stars in
de sky ! Aud I stood dar and I studied.
And I thought 9f the old times away up
in Fauquier county, when we .two hun
dred niggars used to pull away and do
things, and gedder in de corn in a jiffy.—
And den I tought, lcokin' at de bie field
yet swingin' in de air dat I had gone ov
er till my old bones ached—whar de deb
ble is de use of one nigger in a cornfield
any how—and dat's what's de matter
now." And Aleck, eo far as reform is
concerned, you had better take, as I did,
that old darkey's lesson to heart." And
the saint said he would.
Maidenhood and widowhood—Two hoods
nonetuatly eat far the inveiglenmt of izane
kind. •
WAY.NESBORO', FRANIMN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 17, 1873.
• •
Anecdote of President Lincoln.
New, :anecdotes ,of President Lincoln
are sufficiently rare, but here is one, says
and characteristic, whether we consider
the -President's goodness of heart or the
naivete with which it found expression.—
When Colonel Mulligan's Chicago regi
ment lay in Camp away down south,. one
of the priiiates- -call him Barney D—,
in a moment of pasiiion and intoxi , hition,
stabbed and terribly mangled a comrade.
Barney was one of the hard characters of
the command, and it was a matter of no
sur 'rise when 'the court-marshal sentenc
ed 'him for the last and gravest oi •
ny offences to be shot, and fixed the day
for hie execution. Meanwhile, to the sur
prise of every one, including the surgeons,
the wounded man began to recover, and
was soon pronbunced out of danger. Pub
lic opinion took the usual turn. It was
thought a pity, after all, to shoot a fine
young fellow such as Barney was in his
-better- !nom ents r _besides, ...lie_was one of
the boys, bad been born like them in Chi- • Voices whose owners vrithialidaleiffeetri
cago, grown up with them, enlisted with Now-tread eternityls-shore
them, and fought with them. • • Whose songs have long since mingled
. A movement looking to a petition for With Heaven's archangel choir;
the culprit's pardon was set on foot, in Then the,picture passes from me,
which none joinethmore heartily than the - And gazing long I-see--
wounded man, and the camp, which but An old and quaint cathedral,
yesterday was, for lynching Barney, now A priest in his rosary,
yearned to save his life. But the general And one by one he counteth .
- comuturn• 1,, • 1 i
• - :
the court-marshal and only the President
could interfere,_arid_the_regiment was en
So that, though the necessary documents --
had .been forwarded, backed by strong rec
ommendations, there were grave doubts if
the merciful message which Mr. Lincoln,
was almost certain to-send would reach
the camp in time. An express was sent
to the nearest telegraph station, 30 miles
away, to carry the message with althaste
—and all waited impatiently.
The night - before the fatal day arrived.
'Barney was to he shot at sunrise the next
day. No reprieve bad arrived, and reluc
tantly the adjutant prepared the necessa
ry orders ; detailed the firing party, and
arranged for the parade. The night wore
on. It is safe to say not'an eye closed in
the camp, and every ear was strained for
hoof-beats from the east. Past mid-night
one, two, three o'clock,' There were move
ments in the gray ,eastern sky ; the bril
liant southern stars paled . ; it was almost
dawn.
Suddenly a faint sound was heard, as
of a stout away to the east. The excite
ment became electric. Men rushed from
their tents, half dressed, and gathered in
anxious groups. The officers were hardly
legs excited, and mingled with them.—
Ther in rapid succession were heard chal
lenge and reply as the advancing party
passed sentry after sentry, then the tramp
and splash of hoofs, and at last burst in
view the long-looked-for messenger, cov
ered with mud from head to foot, wan
and worn out, his horse panting and tray
elstained and bruised, for they had rid
en thirty miles since midnight along roads
that were sluices of mud and water. The
rider held his way straight to the Colonel's
tent, and delivered the telegram. It read
thus:
" WABETNOTON,
Mulligan : If you had'nt shot 'Barney
D —, yet. don't. "A. LINCOLN."
They had'nt and they didn't.
Oic IDEA.—The world is generally
ready to deride "men of one idea," even
when its perhaps unconsciously entering
into their labors.
A man thoroughly in earnest in any
great work must always be more or less
the butt of ridicule. It is not that the
mass of his fellows despise intensity of pur
pose, but they cannot look at his special
question, or hobby, from h:s particular
standpoint. They do not possess the key
to what they regard as his fanaticism.—
They want immediate !emits and have
small faith in that perseverance which la
bors on to an unseen goal ; still less in that
lofty spirit of devotion that is satisfied to
march forward in the path of duty because
it is the path of duty, comparatively heed
less of consequences. In the zealous re
former who has marked out for himself a
course, they readily see all that_ is incon
gruous, and all th sharp angles. They
note all his oblivious and glaring weak
nesses, complain of his intolerance, and
resent his self-absorption. llnt by and by,
when his concentration of purpose has
hewn down all obstacles, and arrived iu
sight of its ultimate object, the link be
tween him and current opinion is sudden.
ly restored, and the whole world is ready
to prostrate itself and do homage to the
man of one idea.
BOYS, READ AlirD HEED Tars !—Many
people seem to forget that character grows;
that it is not something to put on, ready
made, with womanhood ; hut, day by day,
here a little, and there a little ' grows with
the growth and strengthens with th e
strength, until, good, or bad, it becomes
almost a coat of mail. Look at a man of
business—prompt, reliable conscientious,
yet clear headed and energetic. When
do you suppose be developed all these ad
mirable qualities? when he was a boy ?
Let us see the way in which a boy of ten
years gets up in the morning, works, plays,
studies, and we will tell you just what
kind of a man he will make. The boy
that is late at breakfast, and late at school
stands a poor chance to be a prompt man.
The boy who neglects his Andes, be they
ever eo small, and then excuse himself by
saying, "I forgotl I didn't think 1" will
never be a reliable man. And the si.ffer
ing of weaker things, will never be a no
ble, generous, kindly man ; a gentleman.
Some men can afford to pay for a city
paper, but for their home /am bornyw
heir neighbor", papsc,
[For the Villairßecorct. ---
PIOTUBIB IN NIB VIBE.
BY JOHN R. BARNES, JR.
The ]ad , The. Barnes, referred to in the
following verses, died at Mt. Alto, March 17,
1871. Her remains were deposited 'in the
Methodist Grave-yard in this place.—En.]
As I sit in the firelight musing,
Strange shapes fill the glowing grate,
And in weird, panoramic beauty
All yield to one fiery fate ; •
There are castles of ancient splendor;
And cities of past renown,
And monarchs that swayed a nation,
D , ein: with blood the crown.
There's-the face of a dying martyr,
And a halo encircles his head,
While across my waking visions
Flit the faces of the dead ;
And memory bids ms listen
To the Voices of by-gone years,
'Till my heart is swelling with sadness,
And. my eyes are dewy with tears.
His holy beads at midnight,
While the Pope his penance tells;
And the vision fadeth away,
As a passing cloud obscureth
The day-god's brilliant ray.
There are cherub faces of children,
And the wrinkled visage of age;
There is laughter and song and dancing,
"Philosopher, poet and sage."
There are turrets of wondrous beauty, ,
And balconies wreathed with flowers,
And miniature fountains playing
To lovers in fairy bowers ;
While birds in gorgeous b auty
Are flitting from branch to tree;
And now uld Ocean's casket
Unlocks its treasures to me.
And then, as the hour grows later,
And the embers burn to decay,
I see the grave of my mother,
In a distant town away,
And my heart like the wont is darkened,
And I bit in shadow and gloom,
And wonder who in my absence,
Will garland that desolate tomb
And I hear the voices of angles,
And list, to the flutter of wings, .
While the air was fraught with a 'perfume,
Such as seraph garment brings,
Caught from the incense of heaven,
Borne to this clime of ours,
Only a breath of the sweetness
Born of innuortal flowers.
And I bow my head in reverence
To the touch or fingers divine,
While I feel that spirit kisses
Are pressing these lips of mine.
And the hallowed voice long silent,
Is speaking in accents mild,
For a mother's departed spirit , •
Bends over her desolate child..
Ah, miniature jems of the evening
Weird fantasies built of the fire
Though ye bring ma something of sadness
Of your beauty I cannot tire.
And I turn from the blackened embers,
And I grope in the darkness astray,
Thinking life but a changeful picture,
That time burneth so m away.
PITTSBURG, April, 1873.
Health and Talent.
It is no exaggeration to say tnat health
is a large ingredient in what the world
calls talent. A man without it may be
a giant in intellect, but his deeds will be
the deeds of a dwarf On the contrary
let him have a quick circulation, a good
digestion, the bulk, thews and sinews of a
man, and the alacrity, the unthinking
confidence inspired by these, und, though
having but a thimbleful of brains, he will
either blunder upon success or set failure
at defiance. It is true, especially in this
country, that the number of centaurs in
every community—of men in whom he
roic intellects are allied with bodily con
stitutions as tough as those of horses—is
small.; that, in general, a man has reason
to think himself well off in the lottery
of life, 'The draws the prize of a healthy
stomach without a mind, or the prize of a
fine intellect with a crazy stomach. But
of the two, a weak mind in a Herculean
frame is better than a giant mind in a
crazy constitution. A pound of energy,
with an ounce of talent, will achieve grea•
ter results than a pound of talent with an
ounce of energy. This first requisite to
success in life is to be a &cid animal. In
any of the learned professions, a vigorous
constitution is equal to at least fifty per
cent. more brain. Wit, judgement, imag
ination, eloquence, all the qualities of the
mind, attain thereby a force and splendor
to which they could never approach with
out it. But intellect in a weak body is
like gold in a spent awimmer's pocket."
A mechanic may have tools of the sharp
est edge and highest polish ; but what are
these without a vigorous arm or hand?—
Of what use is it that your mind has be
come a vast granary of knowledge, if you
have not strength to turn the key?
Every individual found in the streets
of the cities and towns of Rusia in a state
of intoxication, is compelled to work at
sweeping the streets during the whole of
the following day. The rigor and impar.
tiality as to a nation, sex, or condition,
with which this rule is carried out is wor
thy of imitation try many more civilized
nations, •
— fitre - Airless - Moon.
A writer in Harper's Magazine says a
mong the illusions swept away by modern
science was the •leasant fano that the
oon was a wits ego e, i.e e cart ~
is surface diversified with seas, lakes, con
inents, and-islands, and varied forms of
egetation.. Theologians and savans grave
y discus.ed the probabilities of its being
nhabit,ed by a race of sentient beings, with
arms and faculties like our own, and even
propounded schemes for opening corn mu
ication with them in case they existed.—
I ne of these was to construct on the broad
ighlands of Asia a series of geometrical
P.• . • I
Rile from our platieti6- neighbor, on the
supposition that the moon people would
recognize_the_object,and immediately con-
strut similar figures in reply. Extrava
gant and absurd as it may appear in the
light of modern knowledge, the establish
ment of this terrestrial and lunar signal
service bureau was treated as a feasible
scheme, altho' practical difficulties, which
So - Oft - en - keep men from biakingrfools - of
themselves, stood in the way of actual ex
periment; but the-dikussiontept-up-at
intervals, until it was covered that if there ,
were people in the moon they must be a
__ _l3le_to_ live_without_breathing,_eating_ or_
drinking. Then it ceased. There can be
no life without air. Beautiful to the eye
of the distant observer, the moon is a sep
ulchral orb—a world of death and silence.
• vegetation clothes its vast plaius of
A o •vege,
stony desolation, traversed by monstrous
crevasses, broken by enormous peaks ris-
_mg_ i e_gigan c om •a oues_in o_space;
no lovely forms of clouds float in the
blackness of its sky. There daytime is
'only lighthted by a rayless sun. there is
no rosy dawn in the morning, no twilight
in the evening.—The nights a. e pitch_dark._
In daytime the solar beams are lost against
the jagged ridges, the sharp points of rocks
or the steep sides of profound abyss ; and
the eye sees only grotesque shapes reliev
ed against fantastic shadows black as ink,
with none of that pleasant gradation and
diffusion of light, none of the subtle blend
ing of light and shadow which make the
charm of a terrestrial landscape. A faint
conception of the horrors of a lunar day.
may be formed from an illustration rep
resenting a landscape taken in the moon
in the centre of the manntainous region
of Aristarchus. There is no color, noth
ing but dead white and black. The rocks
reflect passively the light of the sun ; the
craters and abysses remain rapt in shade;
fantastic peaks rise like phantoms in their
glacial symmetary ; the stars appear like
spots in the blackness of space. The moon
is a dead world: she has no atmosphere.
How She Stopped It.
An exchange says the subject of bor
rowing and lending came up in the course
of a conversation with one of its subscri
bers the other day, when he suddenly re
collected a funny reminiscence of that
character which had happened in his own
neighb,;rhood. Be said he had a neigh
bor whose family were great borrowers,
but not so' distinguished as paymasters—
they were always borrowing, but seldom,
if ever, returned the exact amount borrow
ed. old Quaker lady, another neigh
bor, had endured these invasions for a
long time patiently, hit upon a very phil
osophical 'mode of eventually putting a
stop to the nuisance. Keeping her own
counsel, the-next time her good man went
to town, he had a separate and express
order to, purchase a pound of the best tea
and also a new canister to put it in: As
he knew she already had plenty of tea and
also a canister, he was puzzled to deter
mine what the old lady wanted of more
tea and a new canister, but his question
ings and reasonings elicited nothing more
than a repetition of the order. ' 1
"Jim, did I not tell thee to get me a
pound of the best tea and a new canister ?
Now go along and dO as I thee."
And go along he did, and when be came
home at night the tea and new canister
were his companions. The old lady took
them from him with an amused expression
on her usual placid features, and deposi
ting the tea in the canister, set it on /he
.shelf for a spec al use. Ic had not long
to wait, for the borrowing neighbor had
frequent use for the aromatic herb. The
good old lady loaned generously, etr.pty
lug back in the canister any remittance
of borrowed teas which the'neighbor's con
science inclined her to make. Time went
on, and after somet%ing less than the one
hundredth time of borrowing, the neigh
bor again appeared for "just another draw
ing of tea," when the oft visited. tea can
ister was brought ought and found to .be
empty, and the good old lady and oblig
ing neighbor was iust one pound of tea
poorer than when efte bought the new can
ister which now only remained to tell the
story. Then she made a little caaracter
istic speech, perhaps the first in her life;
she said : "Thou west that empty canister.
I filled it for thee with a pound of my
best tea and I have lent it all to thee in
driblets and put in to it all thou hast sent
me in return, and none but thyself bath
taken therefrom or added unto it, and now
thou' seest it empty ; therefore I will say
to thee, thou bast borrowed thyself out
and I can lend thee no morel"
. Don't be discouraged if oceasionly you
slip down by the way and others tread on
you a little. In other words, don't let a
failure or two dishearten you ; accidents
will happen, and miscalculations will,
sometimes be made; things will turn out
differently to our expectations, and we
may he sufferers. It is worth while to re
member that fortune is like the skies in
the month of April, sometimes cloudy,
and sometimes clear and favorable.
Most men like to see themselves in print..
Ladies like to see themselves in in. silks
end velvet. • •
Romance in Real Lif~~
A letter from Sandusky, Ohio, to the
Cleveland Herald relates the tbllowin g :
A young lady, residing in the county,
•ujoys a urge cue co c 1F; aces, an
is poseEsed of enough of the things of this
world-to be decidedly a "good-catch"—fori
any young man. A. pleasant home, the
best and an abundance of society, sur•
rounded by a large number of young men
who kneeled at her command or rose to
the highest pitch of earthly happiness un
der her smiles, she had, to all appearances,.
all that, was required to complete her hap
piness. Dame Rumor had her engaged
to the son of a wealth farmer. At this
point the hero of our sketch appears on
the scene of action from the Fatherland.—
In pursuit of employment fortune brings
• — to - the — house-oi-our—fair-damsel-and.
there he gets emplOyment. Scarcely a
month from the old country, our mode of
farming was' new to him. But diligent,
application soon made him proficient in
his occupation, and right faithfully did
- he - serve - his employerforabout - sirmontlt-
About the time rumor was culminating
-the-engagement-between_the young lady
and her country lover, she informed her
mother that she loved Hans, the hired
man, and_was_going_to marry_ him. The.
mother was astounded, and emphatically
put her foot down in opposition to any
such movement. A few mornings after
she and her lover repaired to this city,
!,vhcre-they-, were-bouth-together in bands
which death or the courts alone can sever.
They were compelled to sojourn_iu a land
mother relaxed and her permission was
granted for their return, when they im
mediately repaired to their old home.
Mobilier Exemplified.
An exchange thus illustrates the Amos
and Kellogg check transactions : "An
'old woman who traded in groceries got in
volved in a complicated business transec
tion."
A. customer came - in-one -day-and said,
"Old woman, what do you ask for her
ring ?"
"Three cents a piece," said the• old la
dy.
"I'll take one," said the customer; and
the aged vender proceeded to do it up.
"What do you ask fbr beer ?" said the
customer, as the parcel was handed him.
"Three cents a glass," said she.
"On the whole," said he, "I'll take a
'glass of beer instead of the herring." So
he took the beer and started to go.
"Beg your pardon," said the old lady,
"but you haven't paid for the beer."
"Paid for it 1 Of course not. Didn't
I give you back the herring for it ?"
"Well, but," persisted the old lady,
you didn't pay for the herring."
"Pay for the herring I Of coarse I did
not, I didn't take it did I ?"
"Well, said the old woman, after a
pause, in which she strove to master the
mathematics of it, "I presume you're cor
rect, but I wish you wouldn't trade here
any more.".
SIXTEEN Goon HABITS.-1. Abstinence
from tobaco and intoxicants.
2. Temperance at meals.
3. Daily attention to all the conditions
of health.
4 Constant occupation.
5. Doing at once whatever is requind.
6. Having a time and place for every
thing.
7. Fidelity to all appointments and du
ties.
8. Paying for everything in advance.
D. Regular pursuit in some science.
10. Giving as well as receiving.
11. Aiming at harmony iu conversa
tion.
12. Looking always on the bright side.
13. Associating with some favorite
minister and society.
14. Talking on edifying subjects.
15. Acting always in the right spirit.
16. Realizing the presence of Gud at
all times.
DOMESTIC LIFE.—The banes of domes
tic life are littleness, falsity, vulgarity,
harshness, scolding, vociforation, ineesr
sant issuing of superfluous prohibitions
and orders, which are regarded as im
pertinent interferences with the general
liberity and repose,. and are provocative
of rankling and explosive sentiment.—
The blessed antidote that sweeten and en
rich domestic life are refinement, high
aims, great intersts. soft voices, quiet and
gentle manners, magnanimous tempers,
forbearance from all unnecessary com
mands of dictation, and general allowanc
es of mutual freedom.. Love makes obe
dian,m lighter than libert3. Man wears
a noble allegiance, not as a collar, but as
a garland. The graces are never so love
ly as when waiting on their virtues ; and
where they thus dwell together, they make
a heavenly home.
Dr. Franklin remarked that a man of
ten gets two dollars for the one lie spends
informing his mind. A man eats a pound
of sugar and it is gone; the information he
gPts from a newspaper is treasured up to
be enjoyed anew, and to be used whenever
occasion or inclination calls for it. A
newspaper is not the wisdom of a man, or
two men—it is the wisdom of the age, and
of the past ages too. A family without a
newspaper is always behind times in gen
eral information; besides, they can never
think of much to talk about. And then
there are the little ones growing up witn
out any taste for reading. Who, then,
would be without a newspaper—and who
would read one without paying for it?
An lowa man recently died from swal
lowing a pocket knife and an injurious
medical treatment combined. He got a
long nicely as long as the knife was clu
ed, but the doctor gave him opening mod- .
icim; and it
82.00 PER YEAR
NUMBER 45
Wit nut-,Rninor.
iat is that which thoughlklack
. •.• • ,• •
A prudent clergyman, unwAling to ac
-cuse-a-citizen-of-lying, said he .useil the
truth with Penurious frugality.
According to a Missouri paper, there is
a man •in that State so tall he has to
. get
on his knees to scratch his head.
Dubuque boasts 4.? erman who neve - r - N.
drank glass of rn his life. 1 - 1 , 11/
rn t• " r•
It is said to be as dangerous to ri37:a
gainst a woman's opinion as it is to butt
-against-the-busisesB end of a wasp. ✓
• A Connecticut man prefers to pay $6,-
000 for breach of promise then wed the
girl who spells marry with one r.
---A-contemporary-speakes-ofa.-fashiona--
ble tailor as being "one of the chi war
horses of the . trade,". a heavy charger, we
suppose.
A young lady on being told by a friend
last week that silk dresses were very
much worn, replied that she knew it fur
hers had two or three holes in it.
The "bustles" worn by some Waynes
boro ladies',at present, are very large.—
Wonder how many old ncw•spapers ale
John Randolph was once, on a race
cource, solicited to bet by a stranger, who
said; "Sink') here will hold the stakes."
"Just so," replied the descendant of Poca
hontas : "hut who will hold Smith?"
A San Francisco paper tells of a gentle
man who gave his Chinese servant five
hours leave of absence the other day, and
was somewhat amused to see him walk out
of the-gate-with a-twelve-poundAock-un—
der his arm, which he took with him to
keep the . run of time and be back in sea
son.
A popular clergyman in Norristown
performed the marriage ceremony, and
the couple walked away without bestow
ing any fee. But the bride turned and
said :
"We are very much obliged to you, sir,
and I hope one of these days we shall be
able to retaliate,"
A young lawyer gained a suit for a pret
ty out not over-wealthy client. He sent
in a bill for $lOOO. The next day the la
dy called on him and inquired if he was
in earnest in proposiug to her. ''Propose
to you, madam !. I didn't propose to you !"
replied the astonished attorney. 'Well, *
you ask for my fortune; and I thought
you would have the grace to take me , with
it!" was the calm reply.
It is reported that a Portland (Me.)
gentleman, who had heard unfavoralile
reports of the mischievous proclivities of
the boys at an adjacent village, had occa
sion to visit the village iu question, and
after making a tour of it in safety, met
an acquaintance, to whom he related his
ill-founded suspicions, adding that he bad
not even seen a boy. "Ah," said his friend
"that's because the boys are all atthe oth
er end of the'village, stoning a funeral."
There is a station on ,the Pittsburgh;
Fort Wayne, and Chicago Railroad pill
ed Hannah, in honor cf a deceased citizen
of Fort Wayne. A train stopped there
the other day, and the brakeman, after
the manner of his class, thrust his head
insiJe the door 'aud called out "Hannah."
A young lady, endowed with the poetic
appellation of Haunah, supposing he wyi:
addressing her, and shocked at his ikmiP
irity on so short an acquaintance, frown
ed like a thunder-cloud and retorted, "You
shut your mouth I"
A woman's determination to part 'her
hair at the side broke up a wedding at
Bangor, Maine, a few days ago. The
Company had all assembled, the clergy
man was at his place, and the groom pro
ceeded up stairs to escort his chosen one
to the alter. The lady was splendidly
dressed, but in arranging her hair had a
dopted the "new style" To this the young
man objected in the most decided terms,
saying that it looked to brazen and "fast ;"
that the hair of a bride should be ,parted
modestly in the middle. A sharp war of
words followed, which resulted in a declar
ation on the part of the angry youth that
he had taken a firm stand ; that the hair
must he redressed, or he would never look
upon it again. To this the girl replied
that he might leave as soon as he pleased,
and leave he did much to the disgust of
the people who Came to pertake of the
wedding supper and were turned out of
the house without it.•
•
A German paper contains a reply. from
a clergyman who was traveling, and who
stopped at a hotel much frequented by
what are termed "drummers. The host
not being used to have a clergymen at his
table, looked at _him with surprise, the
clerks used all their artillery of wit upon
him, without eliciting a remark of self
defence. The worthy clergyman ate his
dinner quietly, apparently without obser
ving the gibes and sneers of his neighbors.
One of them at last, in despair at his for
bearance, said .to him-:
,
"Well, I wonder at your patience!--
Hare you not heard all that has been
said against you?"
"Oh, yes, but 1 am used to it. Do you
know who I aui r
"..tio, air."
"Well, I will inform you. Ism chap
lain of a lunatic asyltim ; such remark*
hs,rt , elltuct an sue:"