The Waynesboro' village record. (Waynesboro', Pa.) 1871-1900, September 18, 1873, Image 1

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Irr W. BLAIR.
VOLUME 26.
-Hl-4V-A-Y HIS 011,0' VI , ,
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING
By W. BLAIR.
TERNS—Two Dollars per Annum •if paid
within the year; Two Dollars and
Fifty cents after the expiration
of the year.
— ADVERTISEMENTS--One - Square - ( 10
lines) three insertions, $1,50; for
each subsequent-insertion,-Thir
five Cents per. Squar e. Aliberal
discount made to yearly adver
tiser:,
LOCALS.—Busibess Lamle Ten Cents per
line for fi ret insertion, Eleven
Cents for subsea uent insertions
rofessional 4ardg.
J. B. AMBERSON, N. 33.,
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,
WAYICEBBORO% IPA. •
Office at the Waynesboro' "Corner Drug
ore." [Jane 29—tf.
'•_ BRA JUNI IL. RAPPLE v
. PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,
Offers his professional services to the pub
ilic. Office in his residence, on West Main
:street, Waynesboro'. april 4-tf
TAR_ B_ Ba _A. T ,
.Has resumed the practice of Medicine.
OFFICE—In the Walker Building—near
tie - . ow. en • ouse. 'ig ca s s •
made at his residence on Main Street ad
oining the Western School House.
July 20.-tf
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON.
WAYNESBORO' PA.
Office at his residence, nearly opiiosite
The Bowden House. ' Nov 2—tf.
JJOITO-LAZ
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
• • WAYNESBORO', PA.
£ractices ,in the several Courts of Franklin
..and adjacent Counties.
N. B.—Real ,Estate leased and sold, and
Lire Insurance effected on reasonable terms.
,December 1-0, 1871.
R.i, STRIGIUES,
(FORMERLY OF MERCRFtSBURG,
TAFFERS his Professional services to the
IllYcitizens of Waynesboro' and.vicinity.
DR. STRICRLER has relinquished an exten
sive practice:at Mercersburg, where he has
been prominently engaged for a number of
years in the, practice of his profession.
He has opened an Mlle in Waynesboro',
at the residence of George Besore, Esq., 't is
Father-in-law, where he can be forme At al
times when not professionally engaged.
July 20, 187l.—tf.
J. H. FORNEY & CO.
„Pm;!Iwo annntissien Merchants
No. 77 NORTH STREET,
BALTIMORE, MD.
Pay particular attention to the sale of
Flour, brain, Seeds, &e. •
Liberal advances made on consignments.
may 29-tf
L. C. 3E3R.A_CIC3E3I2_MI,
PHOTOGRAPHER,
S. E. Corner of the Diamond,
WAYNESBORO', PA.,
AS at all times a fine assortment of Pic
litures Frames and Mouldings. Call and
eaa specimen pictures. June tf. •
EATING SALOON.
•MITE subgeriber informs the public that
he has opened a first-class Eating Saloon
in the Basement of the Walker building,
which has been thoroughly cleansed and
• repainted. He will be regularly supplied
with Oysters, Tripe, Eggs, and other arti
cles in season. He will also keep a good a*-
,title of Sweet Cider.
aug 14-3 m C. HOFFMAN.
FRANKLIN KEAGY,
ARICHRECT AN BUILDER,
CHAMBERSBURG, PENNA.
Designs,' Plans, Elevations, Sections and
Details of Private or Public Buildings, Bills
•of Quantities; Estimates of Costs ; Drawings
.of Inventions for Applications of Patients,
.&c. Charges moderate. -mayls-tf
3. H. WELSH
WITH
W. V. LIPPINCOTT & CO,
• WHOLESALE DEALERS IN
Hats, Caps, Furs and Straw Goods,
No. 531 Market Street, Philadelphia, Pa.
april 3-tf
THE BOWDEN HOUSE
MAIN STREET,
WAYNESBORO', PENN'A.
THE subscriber having leised this well
known H Ael property, announces to
the public that he has refurnished, re-pain
ted and papered it, and is now amply pre
pared to iiccommodate the traveling public
and others who may be pleased to favor
him with their patronage. An attentive
hostler will at ail times be in attendance.
May 23-tf SAM'L P. STONER.
UDIT3 • HOTEL
Corner of Math gg• ggeell its.,
CHAMBERSBURG. Penn'a.
LANTZ & UNGER, Proprietors.
The UNION has been entirely refited
and re-furnished in every department, and
under the supervision of the present pro
prietors, no effort will be spared to- deserve
a liberal share of patronage:
Their tables will be spread with the
best the Market affords, and their Bar
will always contain the choicest Liquors.
The favor of . . the public solicited.
Extensive Stabling and attentive Hostlers.
Dec. 14-1-y
glutiPetrg.
THB DAY WHEN I FORGOT YOU.
Oh, darling! all the pansy blooms,
Lulled into rest by sweet perfumes,
Will die amid the woodland glooma,
The, day when I forgot you.
The stars will falter as they cross
The blue above, and sudden loss
Will fill the hour with bitterest dross,
--- 7 -The-day--that-I-forget-you
The sunshine will not touch that day,
The green hill, nor the rippled bay;
But all the world will walk in gray,
The day when I forgot you.
ou if not for those you know,
The heart will fill and over ow
In bitter tears that hurts us so,
The day when forgot you.
But, oh, love! that will never be;
My heart will . hold your memory
As shells keep singing of the sea;
I never shall forget you.
Here's rosemary leaf and pansy blue ;
They'll tell you that I will be true
To memory, lar mg, an' o you,
And never shall forget you
Even laying under grass or snow,
When summer's wind or winter's blow,
Above the heart that lies below
I never shall forget you
—Come to-my_gra.ve and you_will see___
A pansy ; and the bloom shall be
A message, love, to you, from me,
That I have not forgot you.
atisteltraious geading.
A CLIENT FOR LIFE.
Vertner Ronalds was seated in lit,
tle law office, one pleasant afternoon not
many years ago, in the town of Helena,
awaiting as he had for months awaited
the coming of some poor unfortunate who
desired his legal advice He was a hand.
some man with a pleasant, intellectual
face elegant form, and graceful carriage ;
he.lmdi been rich, and left an orphan at
an early age.; had been sent to college by
his guardian and the executor of his (e
-ther's estate, and while a student had been
liberally supplied with funds. He had
graduated with honor and returned home;
not to remain, however, for the cruel war
was breaking forth, and called him into
the field.
Through the long four years struggle
Vertner fought nobly nn many fields was
wounded twice, and ended his military
career us commander of his gallant regi
ment.
Returning from the war, Colonel Vert
ner Ronalds anticipated enjoyment in rest
and comft rt in his vast wealth'; bui. his
bright anticipations were at once darken
ed, for his guardian had proved faithless
to the truth reposed in him, and having
lost in his Wardships, ended by taking his
own life, and thus the former heir to
wealth was left with a mere pittance.
Posessing ' a brave, energetic nature,.
Vertner was not cast down by his great
misfortunes, but collected together his ef
fects and sought the far West, determined
to commence the practice of his prosfesion
which was that of law. He was soon set:
tied in the town of Helena, and furnish
ed comfortably, and with law books a
round him, his snug office represented a
business-like look, although months roll
ed by and he never had a client. Upon
the evening in question, when he was sea
ted in the front room of his office, still
longing and quietly waiting for practice,
a traveling carriage, drawn by two strong
horses, stopped in front of his door, and
a gentleman sprang out and approached
his office.
"You are a lawyer, sir," said the stran
ger, abruptly.
"I am, air ; can I serve you ?"
"Greatly I lam in the direst distress,"
answered the stranger.
"Come in and let me know your trou
bles, and = '
"But my little daughter is with me;
will bring her in also," returned the
stranger.
"Do so, sir," answered the Colonel Ron
aids: and the moment after the gentle
man returned and with him a "perfect
dream of beauty," the lawyer thought, as
he gazed upon 'the lovely girl of twelve,
who:c face though pale, was spirit u
al in its loveliness and whose delicate,
graceful figure, was clad in a rich dark
traveling suit.
"My daughter Grace, fir," said the
stranger; and, being seated he continued.
"My nai is Voorhees, sir." and I am
a New Yorker. I must hasten ; for in a
very short while I shall be under arrest.
Last evening, at the roadside inn I had
the misfortune to offend some wild young
fellows from your own town, who were
there "making a night of it,' as they term
ed it. Their language was vile in the ex
treme. I remonstrated for the sake of my
daughter, and they used the harshest lan
guage to me in return. Patience ceasing
to be a virtue, I struck one of them. They
attacked me, and in self defence I drew
my revolver and fired on the apparent
leader. He fell a corpse at my feet, and
the others retired in confusion. At once
leaving the inn. I droVe on here,and know
that" will be arrested for the murder of
the young man. The inn-keeper told me
that he was the son of one of your promi
nent citizens, and that I had gotten my
self in serious trouble. That I have done]
A 'FAMILY EWSPAP Ear-DEVOTED TO L/TERATIDRE, LOCAL .AND GENERAL NEWS. ETC.
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1873.
so I do 'not flCnibt ; &ince I am' now in
your hinds. ' I am not a man of wealth,
sir ; a few hundredsin gold—My carri
age.and'hcirses, aniteilects with me are all
, that I am worth. I am a New Yorker,
and once in 'the metropolis, I can easily
Arrange for, the figure; clear . me in this
unpleasant difficulty, and 'all that I have
with me, except sufficient to carry myself
and - daughter to New-YorkTare-at-yoty
service. Now you know all." Add in
suspense, , Mr. Voorhees awaited Vertuer's
reply.
"-Thankyoui-sirrfor-your-prompt-and
explicit explanation ; do not trouble your
self about payments, sir,
your case is, not
,yet commenced. While here on trial, you
will have to incur expenses fOr board, and
I advise you to come at once to my cot
: ge,Otisliutable..and plain, and, besides
my office, has but five rooms—two of them
are at the service of yourself and daugh
ter, and
,your horses can be stabled with
my own fora horse is a luxury I allow
myself. Now, I will make Miss Grace at
home in her new quarters, and my old ser
vant-Susan-will-look-after her-wants,-while
we gci to the magistrate, for you must at
once give yourself up to the authorities,
and then we can arrange about the bail.
Will this plan suit you ?
'You are, indeed, a friend in need, sir ;
I am ready to place myself in your bands.'
Weeks drag on, and yet the trial of life
and death continued. The Helena au
thorities refused to permit Mr. Voorhee's
release u on bail, and he was confined in
t e town jail ; ut t • roug s t e intercession
of Colonel Ronalds, was made as comfor
table as possible under the circumstances.
Grace Voorhees, the devoted daughter,
still remained in the cottage, and in the
care of old Susan, was made comtbrtakle.
The young man shtin by Mr. Voorhees
_was_the_son_ ofla a en t nabob, and the
stanger's life hung by a single thread, for
there was great prejudice against him.
• The end of the trial came.' Vertner
Ronalds had electrified the Judge,, jury
and all in the court-room by his wonder
ful eloquence in his speech of three hours;
a change of sentiment was visible,the.pros
ecution tottered before his telling argu
ment, and the jury, after five minutes con
sultation, returned a verdict of not guil
ty."
The prisoner was released ; and yet,
though he escaped an ignominious death
upon the gallows, he was soon to be call
ed away by disease, for his long • confine
ment ins damp cell had broken down his
constitution, never very strong. He re
turned with Vertner to the cottage, and
one week after Grace and the young law
yer stood beside his dying • bed.
"Colonel Ronalds, I will soon be gone ;
but ere life leaves me let me prove my
appreciation of all you have done for me.
I was once a rich man, was successful,
and tailed. Grace had left her, in New
York, a large fortune by her mother, and
when she is eighteen she can claim it. I
owe you a large 'fee and I intend to give
it to you now. Will you accept it? Will
you take my daughter .as your ward, be
ing to her as a father ? And may God' in
the end bless you and make you both hap•
"Mr. Voorhees, I accept the charge,
and may God bless'me. as I prove worthy
of it."
Five years, passed away ; the town of
Helena had grown into a 'city, and 'with,
its greatness increased the fame of Colo
nel Vertner Ronalds.
The verdict of ,the jury `!not guilty,")
was the seal to his fotune, and ever 'After
riches came to him.'
Mr. Voorhees was buried, and Grace
was taken by her guardian to New York
and placed at Madame H 's fash
ionable institute for young ladies.
Each year she was visited by her guar
dian, and each year but served to bind the
beautiful girl and . the young lawyer more
firmly together.
At length her school days were over
and Vertner appeared iu New York to
claim her as a bride, and carry her back•
to his handsome home in the far Vest.—
There the two live in happiness, and neith
er of them have had cause to regret the ,1
fee bestowed by. Voorhees upon Vertner.
Every duty brings its peculiar delight,
every denial its appropriate compensation,
every thought its recompense, every love
its elysium, and every cross its crown ;
pay goes with performance as effect with
cause. Meanness overreaches itself; vice
vitiates whoever indulges in it ; the wick
ed wrong their own souls ; generosity
greatens ; virtue exhalts; char:ty trans
figures, and holiness is the essence of
anglehood. God does not require us to
live on credit. He pays us what we earn
as we earn it, go oci or evil, heaven or hell,
according to our choice.
It is the truth which makes a man al
ways angry.
It is good to know our friends' feelings
but not to publish them.
It is better keeping out of is quarrel,
than to make it up afterwards.
If pride were a deadly , disease, how
many would now be in their graves.
It is an evidence of great hardiness to
be more concerned about our sufferings
than our sins.
What an absurd thing it is to pass
over all the valuable parts of a man, and
fix our attentions on his infirmities.
If the whole world should agree to speak
nothing'but the truth, what an abridg
ment it would make of speech.
If you would have a thing kept secret,
never tell it to anyone; and if you would
not have a thing known of you, never do
it,.
Wealth consists in sticking to one
thing "the poor man's budget is full of
schemes."
The threitenings of God rest upon the
same foundation as His promises.
Truths.
The Poor Rich Man.
Look at him ! he is just getting out of
his carriage. He steps with difficulty . ;
his face is seamed with care ; his coat is
rusty—you would not know him in the
street from any hard-working business
man. Yet he owns whole streets full of
houses and miles of unimproved property.
He keeps an army of servants in his house
up-town,and an army of clerks in his busi
ness houses down. town. He has neither
chick nor child, and he lives on a bowl of
gruel fur his breakfast, and the wing of a
-chieken-for-his-41inner-he-tlare-not_eat_
supper. What does he get out of his mon
ey ?
His house, it is true, cost him a hun
dred thousand dollars, but he occupies the
smallest room, hits on the plainest chair,
eats the simplest food, and sleeps the least
of any one in it. While he was saving
the money, he thought he was doing it for
himself, and the thought stimulated him
to save more. While he was'huilding the
house he thought he was building it for
himself; and he consulted architects, and
had-plan-after-plan-drawn-out,_uutiLhe_
believed that he had found one that was
perfection.
But be knows now that it was 'a mis
take all the way through ; he did not save
the money for himself for there is nothing
that he wants of it, now he has got it.—
Lie did not build the house for himself,
for he cannot occupy it; iris simply a
small hotel, which offers luxurious accom
modation tree, and a round sum for pock-
et money to a ozen ma e an' ema e '13 7
niestics, who enjoy it infinitely- more-than_
he does ; who give him as much or as lit
tle as they choose of everything that he
bus, and who consider him only valuable
as a money bag, from which their sup
plies are drawn.
As a lad how-he envied the rich man !
how he dreamed of what he would do
when he became possessed of wealth! how
greedily he looked at a fine house, at a
handsome equipage, at the .insignia of
money, and social ,position.
Aud now he is rich, but he does not re
alize it ; he thinks of nothing but the twin
ges of his rheumatism, the complainings
or delinquencies of his tenants, or the
"tricks" of his "rascally" servants. He
does not really llve in his house or ride
in his carriage, for in the one he does lit
tle but sit and think upon the happy times
when he was a poor boy at home upon the
farm, and in the ether wish, that by giv
ing it, with his fine horses, to the manly
young 'fellow whom it passes in the street,
he could 'buy his health, activity and pow
er of . enjoyment.
It is not what a man has, but what he
is, that makes him rich.
An Atmosphere of Sunshine.
What horticulturist expects a plant to
grow or a 'lower to glow with beauty un
less it has plenty of sunshine ? And how
much more should a child bask in the
smiles of a happy household! The world
has too many morose and dwarfed chil
dren, all rising from the shadow of ill
temner and peevishness in which they are
growing up. Children look a little be
yond the present moment: If a thing
pleases, they are apt to seek it ; if it (its
pleast.s they are prone to avoid it. If
home is the place where faces are sour,
and words harsh, and fault-finding are ev
er in the ascendant, 'be ye sure they will
spend as nmny hours as possible elsewhere.
6olomon'sF rod is a great institution, but
there, are cases not a few where a smile or
a pleasant void will serve a 'better pur
pose, and be more agreeable to both par
ties. Parents will do well to remember
this in the management of their children,
and in the choice of influences by which
to surround them. It is a bitter thing in
old age to have the spectacle constantly
before one's eyes of children who have
grown up vicious, and who are shuned by
the virtuous and respectable. And it is
small consolation to say with the poet—
" How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child!"
Evade the matter as we will, our chil
dren grow up according to the influences
they are under. No healthy, sparkling
child can grow up so in the shade, and no
evil-disposed child ever yct was nurtured
in a household where the sun-light of love
and happiness shone cheeringly all around.
Ah ! how sweet it is, when manhood's
summer,day is merging into a glorious e
vening of old age, to look back from the
shadows of the dark valley, which' will
soon be dispelled by the sun of morning
in a more glorious world, and contemplate
a spent life where no intentional missteps'
can be recalled, and where we can remem
ber no time when, we have stood between
the sun, and those we love ! Then will
the rough and uneven Paces in our path
way look less uninviting in the twi-light
of life, and the bright sunny spots will
sparkle as so many diamonds in the crown
awaiting us. Happy, indeed, are those
whose intercourse with the whole world
has not changed the coarse of their holier
feelin . g,s, or broken those musical chords
of the heart whose vibrations are so melo
dious, so tender, and so touching in the
evening of old age.
A genial and unselfish consideration
of the comfort of others is one of the
rarest things in the world, and when it
is found it ought to be chronicled. A
Cincinnati editor, who has indulged in a
heavy life insurance, is said to be follow
ed whenever he goes a-fishing by sever
al insurance companies affectionately bear
ing life preservers and sun umbrellas. -
In Montevideo, South • America, sheep
are worth ten cents each and cows fifty
cents ; but the. great trouble is that whis
ky is $1 a drink.
Josh Billings says, very truly : "You'd
better not know so much, than to kaciwso
many things that ain't so."
• For the Village Record.
SYMPATHY.
BY HARRY BARNES
Through ninny weeks the burning summer
sun
Has poured its radiance over town and
field.
The fruit and grain, with yearly work well
Stand waiting all their helpful wealth to
yield ;
. : I dilow_er_ttpd leaf
And golden sheaf,
Deep shaded nooks, and softly tinted skies,
Have made a earth again a paradise.
But in dea'r homes, where loving hearts
have watched
And tended little winsome human
ers,
The summer's sun has wilted down and
scorched
The cherished darlingi which we felt
were ours;
An - achin - g - Nvoun • -,
Arad tinny mounds
Wherein a mother's precious treasure lies,
Have made a Rama of our Ptiradise.
Day after day the record still is kept—
Another home gives up its baby dead ;
Another smitten mother's tears are wept
Above her baby's empty little bed ;
No relic left •
!_But snowy,hood, or robe of dainty grace,
And in the house an ever vacant place.
Dear sisters mine, whose tortured, bleed
• ing hearts
Beat with questionings why it must be
That little children charm with their sweet
arts,
Then vanish from our loving ministry,
I know it all—
The vain recall,
The painful stillness of the mother's room,
The dreadful freedom now to go and come
I stretch my empty hand to meet your own
Because I, too, have lost my sweet delight,
And from my nest my blessed birds have
flown
Far out of longing reach and straining
sight.
One comfort still •
These words distill—
The Heavenly*Kingdom is of such as these
I give my jewels up my Lord to please.
Our babes are safe 1• 0 blessed truth!
We gave them life untainted with sin
We' yield them up to grow in Heavenly
youth,
Beyond the earthly pain and toil and din.
Dear hearts look up,
Nor miss the cup
Of sweetness that our suffering Christ doth
bring,
When we have drunk from sorrow's bitter
spring.
Prrrsnuaci, Sept. 8, 1873.
The Black Sheep.
A pretentious house in a genteel up
town street, and a stylish lady very fash
ionably dressed, were the home and the
mother of Fred Vincent.
A showily dressed maid answered the
summons of the mistress.
"Are the children in from school yet,
Martha, ?"
'.No ma'am-les, I should say, for that's
Master Charlie's ring now."
"Well keep their down stairs until dia..
ner ; I want to finish this book in quiet."
3efore Martha could get down stairs
the bounding steps of the romping, rosy
cheeked children, two boys and a girl,
were heard on the stairs, and despite Mar
tha's remonstrance, they trooped into their
mother's presence.-
"Mamma, is dinner ready? I'm near
ly starved !" and hats, books, straps and
slates, were thrown hither and thither on
bed and chair.
"Mercy ! children, you make me so ner
vous ; do go down and play in the yard
until dinner ; but where's Fred ?"
"Oh, kept in again of course," said
Will.
'that boy would worry a saint," said
Mrs. Vincent. "He's continually getting
into difficulties, and he can never be made
to see his faults either."
" 'Twasn't his fault," spoke up little
Charlie, who was Fred's companion when
otherS blamed him. "" "Walter Brent was
taken ill in school—so ill he could hardly
walk, and Fred helped him home. When
he came back he was too late for recita
tion in astronomy ; and he was kept in for
an hour as punishment. lie won't beg
off, as we do, when we're called up ; and
he never cries either; but he feels - badly,
I know, for he turned pale and fairly
trembled, but never said a word."
"Yes, he's too stubborn to offer an ex
cuse. That boy will worry my life out
yet. He's so uncommunicative, so reserv
ed—never comes and tells me his troubles,
like other children. ALI well there must
always be one black sheep in every flock,
they say."
As these thoughtless words fell from the
mother's lips, Fred, who had just come in,
was passing the door.
No one but a sensitive boy knew what
a pang they gave him. It was not the
first time that he had heard the 'remark,
and had gone to his room, his - heart sadly
aching; and when, with urning brow, he
made his appearance at the table, his re
ticence was pronounced sulkiness, and he
was reprimanded fur iinagivary aults.
"Yes, I am the black sheep, surely.—
Oh! why do not my parents love me as
they do Charlie, and Will, and Sue? They
never take half the pains to please that I
do, yet they, are always petted and excus
er) if they don't want to do a thing; but
no one cares for me—no one loves me—
' I'm so miserable, so unhappy ?'
Thus year after year passed away, and
the misguided parents continued to utter
,their complaints about Fred's bad dispo-
Sition—still dulled him the black sheep,
and predicted that his career in life would
be discreditable.
He grew discouraged and reckless, as
his rebuffs and slights, at home continued,
until - he grey? up to manhood.
- With such a training he lost selfrespect,
and became a morose, ungracious, cynical
misanthrope.
His less gifted - brothers were popular,
and also successful in business, while peo
ple held aloof from Fred. He Was never
understood until too late to remedy. the
mistake.
Heart broken and dispirited, he sought
0-bary-in-oblivion-the-knowledge-of-hi:
wrongs by deep draughts of the intoxicat
ing bowl. He died unpitied and un-,
mourned--a poor miserable drunkard.
As the last flicker of his life was dying
out, he roused from his Stupor, and quite
unstrung his mother's nerves by exclaim-
ing :
"Well, mother ; the black sheep will
soon be out of the way. God forgive you
for the cruel words, but they have been
my ruin! Had you encouraged me, given
me your sympathy, or let words of kind
ness cheer my pathway as you did my
brothers, I .would not have laid 'dying of
intemperance. I had no love for the stim
ulating draught, but it brought oblivion'
• I • 1
to drown my desparing thoughts.'
Need we depict the agony and remorse
of those parents as they consigned to the
grave the remains of their lost son I
• Fathers! mothers! take warning!
Watch carefully and tenderly the tem
peraments and dispositidns of your chil
dren. Encourage-them-to coalide-to-your
willing ears all their trials or perplexities.
Make no disparaging remarks to grieve
or chill a sensitive nature.
Wisdom and discretion, tempered with
love, are necessary to the proper training
of your children, but, above all, have a
care that partiality be banished from the
hearth-stone.. This well-doing-and salva
tion of the precious charges committed by
Providence to your care, depends on your
discharge of these duties.
A Female Aeronaut.
Says the Utica Observer of July 5 : At
5 P. hr., precisely, the balloon was filled,
and within five minutes Prof. Squire, had
the basket attached 'and ballasted and ev
erything in readiness for. the entree of
'that sweet little lady,' Miss Nellie Thurs
ton. Our reporter believes he Would die
happy in the air or under the ground if
be could be assured of receiving half the
sympathy of being favored with the small
est portion of the good wishes which MJss
Thurston had expressed in her behallyes
terday. Accompanied' by a lady friend
from West Winfield, the little lady, dress
ed in a neat street costume, stepped into
the circle and took her place in the bask
et with as much ease•and grace mill she
were about to take a ride about town iu
her phaeton. She was the centre or at
traction.
Every eye in the vast Multitude sur
rounding Bagg's Square was turned upon
the occupant of the basket, and the silence
was not broken until committeeman Chap
man gave one of the bands the signal to
play. A few wordp were spoken to the
fiat balloonists by rrof. Squire, Miss . Ne
llie promised to send a special telegram if
anything remarkable' happened iu the' vi
ciuity of Dr. Peter's asteroids, and at 5:07
P.. nr., the air-ship, with its precious
freight, rose almost directly upward for a
distance of about 200 feet.
Professor Squire was satisfied and ex
ceedingly well pleased. He has made
nearly 200 ascensions and directed many
others, but this was one of the most sue-.
cessful in his experience.. He well deserv
ed the numerous congratulations which
were showered upon him for his own suc
cess and that of his fair protege. After
the beautiful direct ascent, .the City of
Utica moved gracefuliy to the southward
until it gained the height of about two
and a half miles. After a little while 4
was met •by a current from the west,
which sent it to the eastward, in which di
rection it remained in plain sight of the
thousands who were watching it for alrut
twenty minutes. About 5:27 r. m. the
balloon came down six miles from Utica.,
in the direction of Mohawk.
A reporter had a pleasant interview
with Miss Thurston and Prof: Squire last
evening. The little lady returned to
Bagg's - Hotel with her balloon in good
order, neatly packed at BP. 3f. She de
scribes her trip as one of the most inter
esting and agreeable she has ever taken.
The prospect of being annoyed by thun
der storms made her avoid a ride into the
upper clouds, which appeared to he charg
ed with electricity. The basket touched
the ground quite suddenly at first, and
the balloon bounced up a little, but re
turned to the earth again, and she alight
ed with perfect ease and comfort. An ac
commodating teamster assisted her in
packing the balloon, and brought her to
Utica. - Everybody in Utica felt a deep
interest in Miss Thurston's success, and
all will be pleased to know that she was
as comfortable and happy, during her stay
among the,elouds as any young lady 'can
be who is separated from terra firma and
man.
One of Mr. Greeley's sayings is reported
to have been that if he had to start in life
Again and the choice was preferred be
tween a classical education and his trade
as printer he would unhesitatingly prefer
the trade.
It is one of the curiosities of Natural
History that a horse enjoys his food most
when he hasn't a bit in his mouth.
$2,00 PER TZAR
NUMBER 14
-- drti i 1 and , `,ll nmor.
"I'm so thirsty," said a boy at work in
a corn field, "Well, work away," said
the industrious hither. "You know the
prophet says, 'hoe every one that thirst ?
eth.'"
The last subject discussed by the
Debatiug Society was, "If you had
to have a boil, where would you prefer to
have it ?" The unanimous decision of the
members was, "Ou some other fellow."
One of the editors of the Cincinnati
litquirer recently saved the cock of• a ca
nal boat from. drowning, and has receiv
ed a letter from the girl's taller, saying :
You' have saved the gal, and she's you r'a.'
No cards. So sa • • • • •tgrap
Little five-year-old annie,' who was
suffering from' a bad cold, went to pay a
visit to auntie. During the day she re
lated her various' success at sdloo,l, and
ended by declaring she could read a g0,,;1
deal better than Sabina, who Was' eight
years old. "Well," questioned suns,
"wouldn't it sound" Setter if some one else
said it ?" "Yes"' answered Annie, with. a
sober countenance, "I think it would • I
have sue t a bad cold I can't saY.dt -:vny
well." •
EQUAL EIGFITS.—The Anti•Railioad
war in Illinois is 'nut without its huinor
ous side, earnest as the opposing parties
"Take your arm 'from around that
woman," shouted out a railroad 4fficial
to a passenger she other day.
.
"Why," replied t 4, man, "she's, my,
wife; I have a right to bave my arm
~..
around her." .
“Not on the railroad,” rejoined the
conductor. ."The new law forbids. all
'unjust discrimination,' and as I haven't
got a woman for every man on tire train,
to hug I can't permit. you.
A London contemporary says : "We
have seen many lazy men and, women
too fbr that matter) in our day and gen
eration, but we do think a Mite tb e
laziest individual we ever met is'a certain
bald headed, oldish:gentlemen, who lives 7
21
somewhert in Islington, near th 4 Angel. ,
Standing the other day with ~ r 'end at
at the corner of 'the City Roa Orating '
for a train, we noticed the su4oo)6ftblii '
paragraph crossing the street' Uktissrm .
in a sling. Turning, to our :aornpanion, ,
who was well acquainted with him, we .
asked : "Why, what in the world has
happened to Mr. D - —'s arm ?". !`,04,
nothing at all," WRS the reply, "he only
wears it, in a sling because he is too hay
to'swing it."
Family Attachments.
One of the saddest thing about a large .
family who have lived happily together
for years under the old root tree ! , is the
scattering to distant hone , 'which' takes
place as they grow up, one by one, to
years of matuity. It is often the case
that, in the cares and bustle of laisiness,
letters grow mote' and more infrequent, •
and, finally brothers and sisters will some.:
times lose sight of each ether. Tllpse,
kindred ties are much too sacred' to .1 1 ,e;
thus lightly severed.' It suchlt!
little while to write a letter, and thC ex-k
pense is so trifling, that there can hardly
be au excuse tact the neglect.
A loving family eirele,thus widely Fevered
adopted a curious but beahtiful !dim Ebr
keeping informed of each other's welfare
The two most remote, on the first efeach
month, write a part of a page of a large
sheet containing the principal news of the
mouth, and this is sealed forwarded to
the family next in oeder. SOrne member
of the household adds a little contribution,
and sends it on to the next, and so on'
until the number is completed. Thus•
the family circle goes its rounds twelve
ti mes a year, and each one is kept wel
informed of the joys and so, row:.. plan
and pursuits of the others. Family ga
eriugs are frequent in such households....
and the old home attachments mver grow
cold.
eons, in particular, away from liiirne
are very apt to grow very neglectful of
letter-writing. If the .knew how many
heart aches such neglect vile:. catn!es to
the loving breast that pillowed their tired
heads in childhood, they would not be so
thoughtless. if they knew the joy a let
ter brought, and could see how its slight
est words were dwelt-upon, Amd talked
over by the fireside, they would not be
so sparing of, those messages.—Are not
sonic: of us sadly in arrears in this par.;
ticular ?
BIRDS OF GLR3tAsy.---The birdi of
Germany, like the crows of Ireland, arc
the pets of the people, both in the city
and the country. They aro protected by
laW, but no law is needed for their protec
tion. They are No tame that many or
them build their nests inside of the bout,
es, and are never dis' wiled by odor
young. Throw down a few crumbs and
they will:nome down from the trees an d
almost eat of yout hand. The conse
quence is that ft uit growers never miter
from the invasion of worms, and the pinta
and damson, which has almost disappeared
from our markets grow here to th.: t:reat
est perfection. The holidays are not
distinguished, as with us% by a throng of
boys with shot gnus pouring into the
country and slayintr•out t%f mere wanton
ness the feathery tr.lr. which is regarded
here as an efficient co-laborer to the - agri
culturist.
He who pokes his nose everywhere,
will sometime; puke is between•a thumb
and fore-finger.
Some Nashville ladies, who esteem it'a
bore to pay fashionable calls are talking
of using postal cards instead.