BY W. GLAIR.
VOLUME 26.
ettrt pottrg.
LT THE LAST.
BY SATE PUTNAM OSGOOD
'Three little words within my brain
Beat back and forth their one refrain,
'Three little walk whose dull distress
.3.Reangeverything alle nothingness,
Unbidden move my ljs instead
Of. other utterance: She is dead.
:Here,' lingering, we talked of late
.Beside the hedge-grown garde% gate ;
Till, smiling, ere the twilight fell
She t tade me take a last farwell.
Those were the final words she said—
' But yesterday—and she is .deadl
I see the very gown she wore,
The color I bad praised before;
The swayed length, whereshe would pass
Made a light rustle on the grass:
There is the •porch'she turned her head
Fqr one.last smile—and she is dead !„
Could I have knoWn what was to come,
Those hours had not been blind and dumb
I would have followed close•with Death,
Have striven for every glance and breath !
13ui now—the final word is said,
The last look taken—she is dead.
We were not lovers—such as they,
Who pledge a faith to last for aye ;
Yet seems the Universe to me
riddle non• without a key:
What means the sunshine overhead,
.The bloom below—now she is dead ?
.So new my grief, its sudden haze
Bewilders my accustomed ways ;
And yet so old, its seems my heart
Was never from its pain apart ;
What was it and shall it be, wed
With that one sentenee—..The is dead
aueolui gradiim.
11 . 11'1
..) -3
THE RAG CARPET.
"A rag carpet ! for a wedding present!"
,cried. Mrs; Blythe Barrington. .
"I never heard of such a thing in my
life," said Miss Florella Arnold, the first
bride's maid.
While Zeuobia Barrington, the bride
.elect, sat among her frills and laces and
inuslins with an expression of the supre
3nest scorn on her patty doll face. And
the obnoxious roll, enveloped in packing
canvas and safely Secured with twine at
.either end, lay on the tluoi in the centre
.of the little vircle.
"For mercy's sake!" lisped Miss Ar
mid, "who is this Aunt tribulation or
Despondency, or whatever her name is 1"
"Aunt Consolation Peck," corrected
Zenobia. "Why, she's mamma's maiden
aunt, and she's very rich, and—and I do
think she might have sent me a set of dia
monds, .at the very Last. The mean old
thing.
"Where does she live 7" asked Helen
Delancey, the second bride's-maid, who
sat by. the table stitching white ribbon in
to jaunty little bows.
"She don't live anywhere," disconsola
tely answered the bride. "She died last
mouth : and she was always telling peo
ple that mamma was her favorite niece
horrid, treacherous old cat—and now she's
gone and served me so 7"
"Shall I call John to open it?" sug
gested Miss Arnold.
"No !" -cried Mrs. Barington, with em
phasis. "A rag carpet open here ! Let
it be taken up into the lumber-room at
once. It's the strangest idea —but Aunt
Consolation always was the most eccen
tric old being in.creation."
"But if she's so rich, I dare say she's
left you a snug little sum of money," said
Miss Delancey rather enviously.
"That she hasn't," Mrs. Barrington an
swered, biting her lip. "It has all gone
to be divided among a swarm of relations,
to most of whom Aunt Consolation would
not speak while she was alive. Too pro
.yoking for anything! What's that, John?"
as the servant came into the room. "A
gentleman -and a lady with a carpet-bag
down stairs? Mr. and Mrs. Docktop ?
My goodness gracious!" with a despairing
dice at her daughter, "If it isn't your
cusin Ruth Ann, that married a,
_farmer,
and lives i n Aunt Consolation's very
house And we shall have to ask her to
stay to thewedding, I suppos,.
Mrs. Docktop, t stout little body in a
dyed black silk iiress, and atrocious yel
low butterflies on her hat, looked admir
ingly_ at the wedding preparations.
"You've got an elegant house, to be
sure. Cousin Barrington," said she. But,"
with a dubious glance at the handsom
Brussels carpet, "I don't nowhere see the
rag carpet that Aunt Consolation left to
Zenoby.
"Humph !" snuffed the bride's mother,
"as if we would use that thing!"
"You don't mean to use it ?"
"Of course. not."
"Well p'raps then," said Cousin Ruth
with a shrewd eye to business, "you'd sell
it to me cheap. I need something for the
best room floor, and if ten dollars—"
Mrs. Blythe Barrington hesitated. They
were a family who made a great show on
a small foundation, and although ten dol
lars was not much, still it would help to
s pay the outrageous dressmaking bill which
ells so dreaded to submit to her husband's
supervision.
"Well," she began, "if am sure I have
no objections, if Zenohia—"
4 'o, do get the old thing out of the
house, no matter how," exclaimed Zeno
bia petulantly, and so the matter was set
tled.
Mr. and Mrs. Docktop remained to the
wedding, and when they returned' honie
they bore with them the rag carpet.
"It's cheap as dirt," said Mrs. Dock.
top. "For Aunt Consolation wove it her
self, and whatever she made was well
made." - •
. "Wasn't good enough for them Baring
.tons though," reflectively added her hus
land. "I wouldn't put it down afore
fall, if I was you, Ruth Ann."
When the fall came showering its red
leaves down on the roof of the old house,
and painting the sumacks and blackber
ry-.vines with scarkt, Docktop came
lime, one day, to where his wife was ab
sorbed in the periodical whirl of housq—
cleaning.
."Heard the news?" he asked, with a
straw in his mouth.
"News ? No. What news ?"
"That there fellow that Zenohy Bar
rington married--he's failed." •
"Failed 2. No 1"
"But he has, though. Smashed clean
.up. Not a copper left to. bless himself
with !"
.Poor Zenobia Arran sat alone in her
elegantly furnished boudoir, with the tra
ces of tears on her cheek, and hands,
whereon the wedding ring yet shown with
all.the gloss of newness, clasped dejected
'yin her lap.
-"lt's no use,_Bridget,"__she_cried petu
lently, to the girl who came slowly up
fr,ona, answering the bell. can't see a
ny. one. Why didn't you tell them 'not
at home.
"Its your relations, ma'am," said Brid
get, in a whisper. "Mr. and Mrs. Dock
top, ma'am, they told me to say."
"0 dea-a-r !" sighed Mrs. Arran, "Why
can't people stay away ? But I suppose
Thave got to see them."
And slowly and unwillingly enough
she went•down stairs to the elegant draw
room, where, upon the extreme edge of
one of the satin damask chairs, with his
hat balanced between his knees, andlhis
wife opposite, sat Mr. Reuben Docktop.
"Well, Cousin Zenoby," he began. "I
don't s'pose you expectedqo see me here."
"No, I did not," said Mrs. Arran rath
er brusquely.
"Well, you see, me and Ruth Ann, we
was a puttin' down our new rag carpet—
the one we bought o' your mother for ten
dollars—well, we VAS unrollin' it, and
out fell a paper. "What's that ?" says
Ruth Ann. "I'm blessed if I know !"
says I. "Well, look," says she. And I
looked—and I'll he jiggeres4" added Mr.
Docktop, with extreme positiveness, "if it
wasn't Aunt Consolation's will !"
`Will I" vaguely repeated Mrs. Ar
"Last will and testament, you know,"
explained Mr. Docktop, with a wave of
his band. "And I've got it, did up in
brown paper in the breast pocket of my'
overcoat, tapping the spot with a brown,
stubbed fore-finger. "I won't say but
there was a temptation, lust at the first,to
destroy the darned old paper, and not say
nothin' about it. But Ruth Ann, says
she, "Reuben, you know" twouldn't be no
pleasure livin' on a place we knoed wasn't
fairle °nen.' And I b'lieveshe was iu the
right."
"Mr. Docktop," cried Zenobia, "what
do you mean r
"I mean," said Reuben, coming to the
point at last, "and I said so, didn't If that
Aunt Consolation Peck she writ n will,
and left all her property—all, mine—to
you, and hid it right in the middle of the
rag carpet she sent you as a weddin' pres
ent, the- week afore she' died."
"It cannot be possible!" • gasped Zeno
bia, feeling as if a golden shower were
falling around her, for Aunt Consolation
was rick in land and gold.
"Ef you don't b'lieve it, here is the will
itself;" said honest Reuben, producing it
form its place of safe keeping.
And Zenobia's heart reproached her
for the oblioquy with which she had treat
ed .A.unt Consolation • Peck's wedding
gift.
She was rich againthis time, with
none of the fleeting wealth that tures to
dead leaves, in the grasp, but real, sub
stantial possessions. But Reuben Dock
top and Ruth Ann his wife dwelt on in
the farm-house under the hill.
"For it is the best I can do, Cousio
Docktop," said Mrs.. Arran, "to beg you
to accept the old homestead as a reward
for your magnanimous conduct.
"Land!" cried Reuben. "I lia'n'a done
nothie but my duty." But we do not
all of us do that in this world.
A THoucarr ABOUT RICHES.—We have
frequently wished we were rich, but ob
servation has changed the bent of our de
sires somewhat. The conduct of some of
our wealthy men leads us to believe that
no wealth is better than to acquire it as
many do. It is a fearful thought that a
strict account will be required iu reference
to the way and manner in which it is ac
quired, and more fearfully important
bow we use it affei it is acquired. If it
comes honestly, and is held by us only in
trust, for He who owns all things, and is
used for His glory and the good of others
it is well; but if acquired by overreach
ing and overbearing, and comes through
dishonest means, it will not atone that we
feed the poor and help the needy, and e
ven give it all away in deeds of charity.
But if acquired by &Ise means, and then
alone used to gratify our own selfish de•
sires, it is a double crime in the sight of
the world's Creator and owner. We of
ten hear the worshipper praying fur the
poor; that is well, but we seldom hear a
prayer for the rich. We think he needs
divine help to enable biro to bear the al
most crushing load that follows him.
The love principle is stronger than the
farceprinciple.
A. FAMILY NEWSPAPER--DEVOTEDeTq.LITEELATURE,.LOCAL AND GEMERAI NEWS. ETC.
VtA.INt`SBOR4;I', FRANKLIN-COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 26, 1873.
A- Romtnce , of .the War.
The San Fran Chico Call ; of recent date,
gives the following • .history
.a.rmiuics
preceding a marriage recently solemnized
at the Grand . Hotel in that cityi"
In 1862, George' arshall; a young law . -
yet' in New Jersey, flung aside his 'law
books and took up arms on the Northern
side, ambitious to serve his country,. and
to win fame on the battle-field. - For bra
very be was promoted t%the rank' of Ser
geant, and'shortly thereafter, whilst near
arper,'s Ferry, he was sent • on a secret
mission by the General in • command of
the division to which his regiment belong
ed: While proceeding in the direction of
Leesburg he happened to pass a farm-'
douse, and heard' a woman's cries as if in
distress. He ruihed forward and saw a
young woman in the hands of, two Con
federate* soldiers, who had - bound - hnd --
were about to p lace had - bound - her a
a gag in her 'mouth.
One of the soldiers he shot, the other '
fled, and the girl was released. Her name
was Ellen Mayfield, the daughter of a
wealthy land owner in Maryland, and then
on a - visit to some relatives, who were ab
sent when the attempt to outrage her was
perpetrated. Young Marshall was favor
ably impressed by the young lady and
sh o e with him, but the rrgency of his ex
pedition was inexorable, and he had to
depart almost immediately.. At Antietam
—a Lieutenant—he was wounded, and
•
was carried to a barn and left there. He
was fast sinking, when several ladies ap
proached, and his eyes brightened when
among them he saw Miss Mayfield. The
wounded officer was conveyed to the house
of her father, who had removed to Adams
County, Pennsylvania, and there, he was
tenderly nursed until able to rejoin his
regiment. The two parted as loverS who
had not declared their passion, but who
understood each other perfectly, and had
esolved_to correspond. Once more the
Lieutenant was wounded—at Nashville—
and thereafter, most unaccountably, the
letters which had been passing constantly
between himself and Miss Mayfield ceased
to pass. Thinking he had given offence,
Lieutenant Marshall gave up writing, and
when the war came to an end he set out
for California, and began business in San
Jose. Three weeks ago, poring over the
overland passenger list, he ,noticed the
name, Miss Ellen Mayfield." Ten years
had elapsed, but the old love returned
with ardor at sight of the name, and Mar
shall sped away to Sacramento to inter
cept the train. In one of the palace cars
heodiscovered Miss Mayfield.. There was
an instant recognition and a glad meet
ing, and marriage was the natural result
as soon as it could possibly take place.—
Now the twain are in housekeeping at
San Jose. The mysterious hiatus in the
correspondence was caused by a thieving,
mischievous p'ostmaster's son.
Symptom of Maidenly Celibacy.
We do not know who is the author of
the following ; nor, of course, do we know
whether the symptoms given are correct.
We give them place, that the curious in
such matters among our readers may have
opportunity to verify them by observation,
if they think the matter of sufficient im
portance to them.:
When a woman begins to drink her tea
without sugar—that's a Itymptom.
When a woman begins to read love sto
ries abedthat's a symptom.
When a woman gives a sigh on'bear
ing of a wedding—that's a symptom.
When a woman begins to say that she's
refused many an offer—that's a symptom.
When a woman begins to talk about
rheumatism in her knees and elbows—
that's a symptom.
When a woman begins to refuse to tell
her age—that's a symptom. •
When a woman begins to find fault
with her looking-glass, and say that it
doesn't show her features right—that's a
symptom.
When a woman begins talking about
cold drafts, and stops up the crevices in
the doors and windows—that's a symp
tom.
When a woman begins to say what a
"Dreadful set of creatures men are, and
that she wouldn't be bothered with one
for the world"—that's a symptom.
When a woman begins to change her
shoes every time she comes into the house
after a walk—that's a symptom.
When a woman begins to have a little
dog trotting after her—that's a symptom.
When a woman begins to have a cat at
her elbow at meal time, and gives it sweet
ened milk—that's a symptom.
When a woman begins to say that a
servant has no business with a sweetheart
—that's a symptom. •
When a woman begins to rub her fin
gers over chairs and tables to see if they
are dusty—that's a symptom.
When a woman begins to go to bed
with her stockings and a flannel nightcap
on—that's a symptom.
When a woman begins to put her fin
gers before her mouth when talking to a
ny one, for fear they should see she's los
ing her teeth—that's a symptom.
AN OBFERVING TURN OF MIND.-A
few days since a gentlemen residing in
Sharon walked from that place to Can
ton. on the Boston and Providence Rail
road, to take the express train for Boston.
On reaching the bridge be discovered
what seemed to him a split nearly across
one of the main beams. On his arrival
nt Boston he called on Superintendent A.
A.. Folsom and told him how the bridge
looked: The popular Superintendent
thanked him, and telegraphed to Sharon
for the next train to be stopped, and for
a gang of workmen to examine it before
any trains passed over. SubsNuently says
the Providence Star, the gentleman re
ceived a yearly pass over the road for his
thoughtfulness.
Subscribe for the RECORD.
REMEMBER 3111' MOVER.
lead Thy mother tenderly
Down steep decline;
OnCe her arm was thy support,
Now she, leans on thine.
See upon her loving face
ThOse deep lines of care;
Think! it was her toil EA. thee
• Left that record there.
Ne'er, forget her tireless watch.
Kept by day =l(3:night, •
Taking from her step the grace,
From her eye the light.
Cherish well her faithful heart,
Which, through weary years,
Echoed with its sympathy
All thy smiles and tears.
- 'Thank God for thritother's love,
' Guard the priceless boon,
For the bitter parting hour
Cometh all too soon.
When thy grateful tenderness
Loses power to save,
Earth will hold no dearer spot
Than ihy mothor's grave. .
How •Local Option Works.
[From the Johnstown Tribune.]
We confess we would like to see some
thing done which would prevent the in
• discriminate sale of liquor; that is, to con
fine the traffic in intoxicating drink with
in such bounds as would not only be cal
culated to cut off the su , ply to those
whose inclination leads them to drink to
excess; but also to throw anout the sale of
it such' safeguards as would render it al
moat impossible for the purchaser to be
come an habitual drunkard. The philan
thropist that can secure a blessing of this
kind, either by means of legislation, or
otherwise, will confer an incalculable files •
sing upon the community at large, as well
as hand down his name to posterity as
one of the greatest benefactors of the age.
But will "local option" meet this much
desired end? During the three months
that the, stringent law placed upon the
statute books, for the prohibition of the
sale of liquor in counties whera a Majori
ty' of the voting population decided a
gainst licensing hotels, we find that rowe
yism and druakenness is on the increase,
and that many - who 'have heretofore im
bibed only occasionally, are bow la:scorn
ing inebriates.
This is a fact that cannot be disproved;
and while the poor sot of the lowest class
iecut from his dram—if he had money
to pay for it—the wealthier class purchase
their five or ten gallon keg, invite their
friends, and coming in constant contact
with liquor the very ban put on its sale
stimulates their appetite for it until they
too become its slaves. Yesterday we made
a note of the disgraceful scenes that were
enacted in Huntingdon, a "local option"
town, on Decoration day. 'Rowdyism was
never as rampant in this city as it was in
that village on Friday last, and now a
gentleman of this city furnishes us with
an illustration of how local option works
in Altoona.
Ire states that on,Saturday morning re
cently he had business in Blair county,
and having occasion to go from Hollidays-
burg to Altoona on the branch train,- he
encountered a sight that•does not.speak
well for the temperance of that locality.
He asserts that between Hollidaysburg
and Duncansville the road was literally
lined with men inn, state of beastly in
toxication, and a great many of them
were possessed of kegs of beer and jugs
of whisky,.that he sags were procured in
Hollidaysburg. All kinds of epithets
were applied by them to passengers as the
train passed, and ladies on the train were
compelled to draw the blinds in the cars
to avoid being insulted' by the most inde
cent exhibitions. On the same evening
he saw a crowd surrounding a brewery,
and trying to force the proprietor to give
them beer. They even threatened to de
molish the building if he would not accede
to their demands, and a force•was kept at
the establishment all night to protect it
from insult.
It is well enough to say ;that if local
option was general this state of affairs
would not occur. We don't think so.—
As long as liquor is manufactured, just so
long as liquor is manufactured, just so
long it will be procured and drank. if
our present license law was strictly enforc
ed it would do more tow.trd inducing tem
perance and moderation in drink than
the provisions of any other la 7 outside of
the total abrogation of the manufacture
could devise. Only respectabro men—
of moral and temperate habits, could then
engage in the traffic, and violating its
stringent' provisions would render them
liable to a pr.secution that they would
u -et every means in their power to get clear
of. The Altoona Tribune, after stating
the various expedients resorted to to ob
tain forbidden drinks, and the excesses
clandestine drinking lead to, closes as fol
lows :
"And thus it goes on from day to day,
and all who like it may swim in beer, and
the local option law seems utterly impo :
tent to put a stop to the traffic. That is
a matter beyond its jurisdiction."
A farmer tent into his field one day,
and found his men "lying or under a
tree, when they should have been at work.
Taking a silver dollar from his pocket, he
exclaimed, "I will give this to the laziest
man among you."
All, save one, jumped and claimed the
prize.
"That fellow has won it," said the far
mer, pointing to the man still sitting on
the ground and he stepped up to hand him
the dollar.
“Won't you please put , it in my pocket ?”
sw the thanks lie received.
Dnsty—our streets
Romance of a Battle.
During ,greneral Sheridan's last visit to
Indiannapoiis, he talked over his cam
paigns with his friends there, says the
.journal, and recalled a preface to one of
his most noted battles in something like
these terms: "There is a mighty sight of
romance and a great many interesting ep-;
isodes connected with the war that the
historians never got hold of. For instance,
there has, been a great deal said about the
battle of Winchester, a little affair in
which I had a hand. Well, it was a pret
ty square fight ; but, do you know, that
battle was fought on the •strength of in
formation' which I received from a young
lady in the town of Winchester, and if
the rebels had known she was giving it to
me, they would have hung her in a min
ute. I was very anxious to get infotma
don of the rebel's strength and movements,
so as to know just when and where to
strike them, but I did not know how to
get it. Finally, I heard of a Union young
lady in. Winchester who could be relied
on if I could get word to her. Her name
was Miss Wright. I think she is in the
Treasury Department at Washington now.
But the trouble was to communicate with
her._' One_day_Lhgard_oLan_old_colored_
man living outside of my lines, who had
a pass to go into Winchester to sell vege
etables. I sent for the old man, and on
talking with him found him to be loyal,
as all the colored fOlks were, you know.—
Finding he could keep a secret, I ask him
lc he would undertake to deliver a letter
tb a young-lady in Winchester. The old
fellow said he would, so I wrote a letter
ou thin tissue paper and rolled it up in
tin-foil.
It made a ball about as big as the end
of your thumb, and I told the old man to
put it in his mouth and deliver it to Miss
Wright in Winchester. He went off, and
in about two days came back with an an
swer rollel up in the same piece of tin
foil. I found I had struck a mighty good
lead, and I followed it carefully till I got
all the information I wanted.. Tae girl
gave one more important information than
I got from any other source, and I plan
ned the battle of Winchester almost en
tirely on what I got from. her. She was
a nice girl and true as steel."
Useful Truths.
Deserve friends and you will have them.
The world is teeming with kindhearted
people, and you have only to carry a kind
sympathetic heart in your own busom to
call out goodness and friendliness from
others.
It is a mistake to expect to receive wel
come, hospitality, words of cheer, and
help over rugged and difficult passes in
life, in return for cold selfishness, which
cares for - nothing in the world but self.—
Cultivate consideration for the feelings
of other people, if you would never have
your own injured. Those who complain
of ill usage are the ones who abuse them
selves and others the ofteuest.
if life to you is not all you would have
it, seek to make it better and more enjoy
able yourself. For at best life is what we
make it.
Employment for the mind is what thou
sands of women are in need of. After the
plodding routine required for material ne
cessities has been gone through with for
the day, and the tired body requires and
enjoyes rest, the minds of many women
reach out hungering and thirsting after
intellectual food. Not having that crav
ing satisfied is what causes unhappiness
for many whose lives seem dark and bar
ren.
Open the windows of your heart, and
let light in to the dark, unhealthy places
you have for years dampened with your
tears,
Send disappointment to the winds; take
life as it is, and with a strong will wake
it as near what it should be as possible.•
Receive at once the potent power which
will lift you above the• ills of Pfe, in the
thousands of books which can be had in
this ag'e. Read books, pamphlets and
newspapers—anything useful, instructive i
amusing, and full of lessons. Get your
mind otf yourself at some rate, or you are
doomed never to amount to anything or
have a friend worth having.
A Hard Test.
A gentleman once heard a laboring man
swear dreadfully in the presence of a num
ber of his companions. He told him it
was a cowardly thing to swear in compa
ny, when he dared not do it by himself.
The man said he was not afraid to swear
at any time or in any place. , tril g i ve
you ten dollars," said the gentlemen, "If
you will - go into the village church-yard,
at twelve o'clock to-night, and swear the
same oaths wkich yuu have uttered here
when you are alone with God."
"Agreed," said the man ; " 'tis an ea
sy way of earning ten dollars."
"Well, you come to me to-morrow, and
say you have done it, and the money is
yours."
The time passed on ; midnight came.—
The man went to the graveyard. It was
a night of pitchy darkness. As he enter
ed the graveyard not a sound was heard
all was still asdeath. Then the gentle
man's words,"alone with God." cam.e o
ver him with a wonderful power. The
thought of the wickedness he had com
mitted, and of What he had come there to
do. darted over his mind like a flash of
lightning. He trembled at his folly. A
fraid to take another step, ho fell on his
knees, and.instead of the dreadful oaths
he came to utter, the earnest cry went up,
"God be merciful to me a sinner."
The next day he went to the gentle
man and thanked him for what he had
done, and said he had resolved not to
swear another oath as long as he lived.
An editor out West has been elected
town toustable, and is now, able to arrest
the Attention of his readers,
A Divorce Romance.
Some twenty years since; says the Cin
,cinnati Times, the daughter of—at that
time—one of our wealthy merchants, was
married under the most flattering auspi
ces. It was not, however very long before
he pair discovered that there was not any
thing congenial between them, and, after
living together some nine years, and hav
ing three children, they by mutual agree
ment were divorced, the children remain
ing with the father, the mother being per
mitted to see them at her own conveni
ence. The wife went home to her father,
who shortly afterward died, hopelessly
bankrupt. The woman,.who, previously,
as the child of luxury and the wife of op
ulence, had never known what it was to
want for a single thing, suddenly found
herself thrown out upon the world, and
forced to seek a livelihood as best she
cculd. At first she undertook sewing for
shops, then attending stores, and finally
keeping a very plain boarding-house, iu
none of whick,dul she succeed. One day,
when almost driven to despair, she mus
tered up courage and went to her former
home and asked the one who had succeed
ed her as the mistress of the house if she
_would_not_befriend_her, even'ever so little,
as she was on the point of starving, as
her wan and haggard condition too plain
ly showed. Women's ears and hearts are
ever open to the sufferings of their more
unfortunate fellow beings. The unfortu
nate woman was invited to remain midi
the husband retnrned, which she reluct
antly did, and when he cam — elhe matter
was thoroughly discussed. It was mutu
ally agreed for wife No. l'to remain and
make her home in the house over which
she had once ruled as mistress. And there
she is to be found to day, seemingly sat
isfied with the change, and apparently not
caring that the love that was once Pledg
ed solemnly before God to her alone is
now bestowed upon another.
How Far is' it to Heaven.?
How far ? we ask ; and we raise our eyes
to the blue canopy above—peering thro'
the fleecy clouds—watching the sun's Bi-'
lent course till lost from view behind the
gold and purple horizon, and the stars
come forth, one by one, from their cloud
draped couch, and the silver moon glides
along its midnight path—yet there comes
no response save the echo of our own voice
how ;—how far? We ask the 'child
at play ; and the answer is : "What Heav
en? God's beautiful home? Iclot Far. It
is just beyond the starry skies;, for God
sees.me, and hears my simple prayer."—
We ask the aged one—whose form is bow
ed, and step is slow—and he replies :
Heaven ! that haven of rest ? A few wea
ry steps, and I will pass the pearly gates.
For years I've toiled to win a crown. My
journey is short—l am almost there." •
We ask the dying Christian. A rA
ant smile lights up his countenance, as he
softly murmurs, "It is just yonder—l al
• most heftr the angel voices now. Heayeu
is not far to the trusting child of faith."
We ask the thoughtless. • With a scoff
of indifference, and a laugh, he turns a
way muttering. "It is a great way off.—
Give me pleasure; it is all I ask; I have
hopes to realize ere I seek Heaven."
We ask the dying sinner, and he ex
claims ; "Heaven that beautiful land !
It is lost to view! It is far—too far away;
I will 'never reach its beautiful shore !"
A sad pillow to rest a dying head upon.
A. Heaven lost ?—a dark doom to. meet!
Well might the heart perish in anguish.
My dear reader, have you ever given a
thought to this question ? Pejliaps many
care not to know. Heaven may be far
off, or at this moment you may be almost
within sound of the Heavenly messenger;
or, like the comet that is wandering from
the sun—the great centre of attraction—
so may you be wandering from heaven,
and destined always to wander.
NEAT SHALL WE DO WITH OUR DAUGH
TERS 2—Apropcs of Mrs. Livermore's late
lecture on the above important question,
the Davenport Democrat thus sensibly
makes answer; •
Teach their self reliance.
'Teach them to make bread.
Thach them to make shirts
Teach them to foot up store bills.
Teach them not to wear false hair.
Teach them not to paint and powder.
Teach them to wear thick warm shoes.
Teach thew. how to ,wash and iron
clothes.
Bring them up in the way tbey shoul
go.
Teach them how to make their own
dresses.
Teach them to do marketing for the
family.
Teach them how to cook a good meal
of victuals. ,
Teach them a dollar is only one hula
dred cents.
Teach them every day, hard, practical
common sense.
Teach them how to darn stockings and
sew on buttons.
Give them a good, substantial, common
school education.
• Teach them to say no, and mean it; or
yes and stick to it.
Teach them to regard the morals, :riot
the money of the beaus.
Teach them to wear calico dresses—and
do it like a queen.
Teach them all the. , M*tqfes of the
kitchen, the dining room und-rarlor.
Teach them that a good round rousing
romp is worth fifty delicate consumptives.
• Teach them to have nothing too with
intemperate and dissolutive young men:
Teach them that the more one lives
within his income the more ho will save.
Rely upon it, that on your teaching de: .
ponds in a grate measure the weal or Wed
of their after life.
A. nigger bas wool, sn has -a sheep; bat
a sheep Is not. a nigger. ,
82.00 PER YEAR;
1 II) Di 11131
Mit and Inmor.
Pretty—the Waynesboro' shop girls.
very woman may be said to. XL at
'forty.
Agassiz says that the evening hours nre
the best for sleep. They are also the best
for sitting up with a nice girl.
A retiring man says mobody .ever paid
him much attention nail he broke out of
jail. and then ho was much sought after.
.si
A Troy woman ay hat ifdeath lore,,
shining mark, it is ngular that he. ha.s
not aimed at her h s and's nose before
this.
a
Wanted—a paten gate hinge strong e
nough to supportsl d lovers. Will hot t
some ingenious man ireet his attentiiiii'
to 'this subject ? " , . • '• ••• •
A fellow in New Orleans is said to have
eaten a box of castile soap, to get rid of
freckle. ,He still has a few on - his:fate,
but inside it isnt freckled a bit.
4.t the recent wedding of a Baiarhui
Nfi s
ailoy officer, 18 Hs brother of
claimed the right to' ' s the bride
responded to each s ack, and wasn't tir
ed
j .
the least bit. ---.'"
e'en some man slaps me oh der shoul
der-und says,-"1-was glad to-hear-you-4as
so veil," and den sticks behind my back
his fingers to his nose, I half my opinion
of dat yeller.
A colored gentleman w • to consu lt
one of the most conscientious laWyers,
and after stating his case said : "NOw,
Mr. Blank, I know you's a lawyer, buti
wish you would please, sir, jist' tell me cle
truff bout dat matter."
A Fairfield, Vermont, mother learned
of her daughter's contemplated elopement
and on the night appointed forllfeilight
put some laudanum in the girl'slea. The
latter fell asleep andsdid not wake-up till
morning, and in the meantime Rome got
tired of waiting and went home disgusted.
He goes with another girl now.
A man out West who married a widow.
has, invented a device to cure her of ',e
ternally" praising her former husband.—
Whenever she begins to descant on, his
noblq.qualities, this ingenious No. 2 mere
ly says: Voor dear man illow I wish he
hadn't died." And the lady immediately
thinks of something else to talk about.
Under a great tree, close to 40Vil
two boys &and a walnut.
"It belongs to me.," said Ignatious,"for -
I was the first to see it.",
"No, it belongs to me,' crieci,Bernerd,
"for I picked it up, and so they began to
quarrel.in earnest. ' -
"I will settle the dispute," said an:old
er boy who had just come up.
He placed himself between die two bays,
broke the nut in two, and said:
"The one piece of shell belongi to him •
who first saw the nut; the other piece Of
shell belongs to him,who first priced it; J
up; but the kernel I keep for judging the
case. And this," he said, as he sat down
andlaughed, "is the common end of law
suits."
NEGRO'S PRAYER TO HIS TEACHER.- ,
"0 Lord, bless de teacher who comes 'So.
far to 'struct us in de way to heaven.—
Rock , her in de cradle of love I Backers de
word of power •in her hart dot She May
have souls for her hire, and ninny stars in
her crown in de great gittin'.up mornin'
when de general roll is called. ,And when
all de, battle. is over, may she fall allkiv
ered with victory, be buried wid de hon
ors of war, and rise to wear de long white
robe in glory and walk de shinire,streete
in silver slippers, down by de golden dun-.
rise, close to de great white throne ; and
dere may she strike glad hands wid, ally
her dear scholars, and prase you, 0 Lord;
forever and forever, for Jesus' sake. L •
Amen."
How TO "COME AOAlN."—SOirita thriq '
ago there lived a gentlemen of indolent
habits in Sussex, who litiritot-n 'business, hi
the winter season, of visa:444s friends
extensively. After wearing out his Wel
come in his own .immediate vicinity last
winter, he thought he wcitild visit an old
Quaker friend, some twenty - miles distant'
who had been a school-fellow of his. .oa ,
his arrival he was cordially received,by. ;
the Quaker. he thinking his visitor had
•
taken much pains to come so far to see
him. He treated his friend with great fit- . .
tention and politeness for several days, and '
as he did nut see any signs of his leaving
he became uneasy, but he bore it, With pa
tience till, the morning of the eighth day,
when he said to him :
"Mx friend, I am afraid thee will nev
er visit me again." )
"Oh, yes I shall,".said the visitor : "I
have enjoyed my visit very much I shall
certainly come.ag,ai.n."
"Nay,' said the 9,ttx&er, "I think thee .
will not visit me again." rt
"What makes you think I will not come . •
again?" asked the visitor.
'lf thee does ,never leave"' said the
Quaker "how caust thee come agam P"
His visitor left.
. John Fletcher says: "Gold eoin is
Most valuable and when it is brought- to
light and made to circulate for eitarnablo
and pions uses, and not when it lies con,-
(Titled in a niiser's strong hot, oriallik:
,dank bosom of n mine:"
Temperance and labor are the twitbest,
physicians cl man ; labor sharpens the a p.
ya;;; A. ft n 't strrv.:^o nee pretests lira front
isdullging is ;excess.
MEI