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I CAN OT CALL UR MOTOR.,
The marriage, rite is over,
And though I turn aside •
To keep the guests from seeing..,
The tears I cdulit.not Mae,
I wreathed my fiAce in smiling,
And led my little brother
To greet my father's chosen,'
But•I could not 6,11 her mother..,
She is a fair young creature,
With meek and gentle air,
With blue eyes soft and loving,
And silken sunny hair ;
I know my father gives her
The love he bore another,
But if she were au angel
I could not call her mother.
To-night I hear her singing •
A sung I used to love,
Vk.en its sweet notes were uttered
By her who sings above;
It wined m heart to hear it
And my tears I couldn't smother,
r er word was hallowed
the dear 'voice of my mither
My father, in the sunshine
Of the happy days to come,
Muy - hirlf - forget - the - shado
That darkened our old home;
H;s heart no more is lonely,
But me and little brother
Must still be orphan children—
God can give us but one mother.
They've borne any mother'; picture
Irom its accustomed place,
And set beside my father's
A younger fairer Lice ;
They've made her dear old chamber
-- TIT I 4.) k •I
,? I ,
But I will not forget 1 bee,
y .own—nry I I I o •
itlictellaurous
THE SAILOR'S REVENGE.
The tiger frigate was homeward bound
after a voyage of many months, (luring
tvhich time matters, with some exceptions,
had gone forttard very pleasantly. The
credit of this evidently did not belong to
the captain, for he was a surf•, drunken
brute, d had amused himself during
much of the voyage by approaching the
- men unseen, kicking tinm and striking
them with his rattan, and sometimes with
son►e heavier implement. But the sail
ors dared not rt omit even this treatment;
and ter the sake of the second mate, who
was a great and deserved favorite among
then►, they here it in silence.
Among the crew there was a young
man by the name of Bob Manly. He
was a noble fellow, a goal sailor, and a
general iiivorite %%WI all except the cap
tain, who appeared to have an esteeial
spite against him, simply because he was
a true man.
One day Bob was seated below, when
.one of his favurites by the name of Jeseph
Alete if ; apprombed him aml said :
Bob, the voyage is nearly over.
By to-morroW night we may expect to:ice
(Iry land." •
"Yes, and I thank heaven it."
"Why do you speak so earnestly, Bob?"
"I want to leave the slip."
"1 did not think you were in such a
Lurrv."
"But I tell, .you I am. I have long
felt. an inclination to thiottle that dog;
and then I saw him strike rtt to-day,
Joe, I could scarcely ressraiu myself:"
` . oh, I don't mind. He is a drunken
Least, and not worth noticing, corisidering
that everything else goes along so pleas
antly.
'`i can't look at it in that light. He
is our chief officer, and ot. - rht to be a gen
tleman. If he should strike me, I—,"
"Oh, it is, not likely he would strike
you."
"I think it is very likely.",
"Why so ?"
"I couldn't help but frown to-day when
the wretch struck you. He tabserved it,
and though he did not say anything at
the time, I could read his intentions at a
zlance."
"Suppose he should strike you, Bob?"
"I believe I'd hurl him at toy feet and
place- my heel lipon - his cowardly neck."
"Then you'll swing from the yardarm."
"I know it."
"It would be hard to die - for such 'a
man as he r "
"True. Well, I don't know how I
should act in case-of a blow. I never yet
have received one, and I hope I never
will. I could not endure the degradation.
Why, Joe, I really believe if I were to be
flogged on ship board it would render me
a raving fiend' for the remainder of my
life,if it did not kill me on the spot."
• At that montent Bob was summoned
on deck. Ile quickly obeyed, and set a•
bout performing the duty devolving upon
him wliVionitlacrity-ttal cheerfulness in
keepinelfill) his character. He glanced
quickly.around,:but ihe.captain was not
to be Seen. •
Suddenly Bob felt a violent blow upon
the hoed. He staggered and fell to the
deck. But his sense§ did not forsake Mm.
He was satisfied from whence the blow
tame, and looking op be saw the captain
standing near him.
to
a thorrient Bob bad not the power
to Move, or he certainly would have leap
upon the captain like a tiger. As it
was he could but exclaim, "Oh, you ac
cursed brute! But I will be eves with
you."
'rids' wad enoUgh. A guard of marines.
; Was instantly called; and. in a few mint
! Ines flitunt himself in ;irons: and a.
Boy_at HIS - t
been a sador,.for twenty years, had
-sever received a blew. But now his hook
had arrived and he must submit to that
which he had always . '" believed would, be
the death of him.
The night passed slowly. Morning
came, and the hours of dawn rushed on.
Toward evening the crew were startled
-by the dread summons of the • boatiwain
and mat'etoat the4ipal hatchway
—a 'stun - imps thatAl sends a shudder
through eirery, manly beartin a frigate:
"All hurt& tewituct3.s.punishment, aho y
The cry-Appeared harsh and unrelent
ing..-Jt pierced, every part of the. ship,
and no heart but felt a dismal echo was
there to be found save he who, claimed to
be master there.
In a short time the crew bad crowded
around the mainmast. All must come.
All wore sad races.
' Soon the officers were ranged on one
side, and the captain, takiik his place a
mong them, cried out, `'Master•at-arms,
bring up the prisoner."
All was silent as Bob was brought on
deck, guarded by marines, and plaeed
upon the gratings.
. tain began, "YouTßobert-Ma •
ly, are about to be punished tbr using dis•
tcspe,tfal la-tignage-aud-threats-towa-r
-your-captain.—Have-you got anything to
say ?"
"I've used no disrespectful language,"
- replied Bob in a firm voice."
"What?" cried the captain,
not call •me an accursed brute?"
"I did."
"And what kind ,of
....mi what k.
call that ?"
"Respectful to you."
"How ?"
"It is complimentary, for you are worse
than a brute."
The captain could hardly suppress his
rage, but he did so, for he knew that his
So he asked, "Did
revenge was to come.
you not threaten me?"
"I do not recollect that I did."
"Did you not say that 'yoti would be
even with me ?"
"So maddened was I with the bloW vou
gave me that I might have said such a
thing. If I did, I repeat it now, and 1
swear before my Maker that I will be a
venged for the 'first blow you •gave me
and for every one I receive now!"
"Boatswain's mates do your duty,"
yelled the captain.
"Stop an • instant," said Bob, calmly.,
Then he c‘ontitittecl, "Mates, I can't blame
you fin. striking the blows, because vou
must. Let me say in advance that tiOr
give you fir it. But for you, captain, I
say once more, stop this work or you will
find it the bitterest of your life."
"La) on, mate," yelled the captain.
"My last warning."
"Lay on, mate." . •
Tho keen scourge hissed through the
air and fell with a cutting wiry sound
upon the mark. 8010 trembled visibly,
but his teeth were set and no sound es
caped him.. The first blow barely left a
mark ; but as the successive ones fell,
red ridges began to appear, livid lines of
bruised and mangled flesh were drown,
the muscles rose in knotted cords, and the
whale of the naked body showed a livid
and purple color.
sixteou—seventecn, and the ridges
broke, the blond poured down upon the
deck. Twenty, and a groan—the first—
escaped Bob. Then he cried, aithcugl►
the voice sounded faMt, "Farewell, mess
mates, threwell !"
Twenty-two. Bob sank, only sustained
by the rope - attached to his thumbs.—
Twenty-three and twenty-four—did they
not fitll upon the back of a corpse?
"Cut him down," growled the captain,
as he turned away.
The order was obeyed. Every one ex
pected to see Bob fall on the deck lifeless.
But• not so. No sooner were his bands free
than he bounded up and leaped toward
the captain like a tiger. The officer drew
his pistol as he detected the movement,
but he was not quick enough. The wea
pon was dashed aside by the frantic Bob,
and the wretch clutched by the throat.
Then Bob lifted him from deck as if he had
been. a child.
Nearly every officer rushed to the res
cue of the captain, but it was of no avail.
Over the bulwarks into the rolling sea
went Bob and his persecutor, the wronged
sailor still retaining his grip upon the
throat of his inhuman foe.
Afearful wail escaped the captain. Ef
forts were made to save him ; but the
crimson surface where the. two men dis
appeared proclaimed all efl►rts useless.
, The brave sailor felt that he could not
live after such a humiliation. He resolved
the villain captain should die. with him.
That you may find success, let me tell
you bow to succeed. To-night begin your
great plan of life. You have but one
life to live, and it is most important that
you do not make a mistake. To night
begin carefully. Fix :Your eyes on the
fortieth year of your age, and say to
yourself; "At the ace of forty I will be
a temperate man, I will be as industrious
man, a benevolent•man, a well read man,
a good man, and a useful man. I will be
sue% a one. I resolve, and I will stand
to it." '
Live as lone as you may, the' first
twenty years form the greater part of
your life. They appear so when they
are passing ; they seem to have been so
when we look back to them, and they
take up more room in our memory than
'all the years that succeed them.
Never speak loud to one another, un
less the house is on lan.
.., . .
.
WAYNESBOROc„nAramNICONNTY _ ;Pk; MICIRSIII74_.NOVERBER 13, 1873.
- • .. • . . .
licSin'e - attei.Childreri; 'are ° Grown.
- Nothing on eartlisgrork asfitst-as
dren. It wasyesterday,,and that lad was
. . .
. , .
, -,d-goire-tiow-i--liiifoot-isin the
field,'.his hand is . upbn the'swOrd.
is no. more childhood for him or,for us --
•
Life has claimed -
When atbegiuhig is made, it ie like a
ravelling stocking—stitch by stitch give
way; till all are gone. ' 'The house has not
a child in it. There , is no more noise in
the' hall—the bays, men—,
it is very orderlf,now. ;,Tbere . are no
more skates or slide, bate s r , :strings left
scattered about.
Things are neat enough now. There
is no delay of breakfast for sleepy folks ;
there is no longer any talk before yop•lie
dolvn, of looking after anybody and tuck
ing up the bed clothes. There are no dis
pules tdsettle, nobody to get off to school,
no complaints, no importunities for im
possible things; no rips to mend, no finger
to tie up, no faces to be washed, or collars
_to be_arranged_;_there_was_never such
peace in the house I It would sound like
music to have some feet clatter down the
trout stairs! Oh, for some children's
noise!
What used to ail us that we were hush:,
ing their hind laugh, checking,ih c ir noisy
frolics, and reproving their slaming and
banging the doors ! Nfirevish our neigh=
boys woult only lend us an urchin or two
o nu e a *trie noise in these prelim.
A house without children ! It is like a
lantern and no sandal !—a vine and no
grapes !—a brook with no water gurgling
and rushing in its channel! We want—to
be tired, to be vexed, to be run over, to
hear child life at work with all its varie
ties.
"did you
During the secular days this is enough
marked.' But it is Sunday that puts an
American house to proof. This is the
Christian family day. The intervals of
public worship are long spaces of peace.
file family seems made up on that day.
The children are at home. • You can lay
your hand on their heads. They seem to
recoznize the greater and the less love—
to God and to friends. The house is peace
ful, but not still. There is a low, melo
dious thrill of children in it. But Sun
day comes too still now. There is silence
Unit aches in the ear. There is too much
room at the table, too_ much at the hearth.
The bed rooms are a world too orderly.
There is too much leisure, and too little
care. •
angunge
Alas! what means these things ? Is
somebody giowine old ? Are these signs
and tokens ? Is life wanting?
PAY YOUR SHALL BlLLB.—There is
one evil resulting from the panic which
though comparatively small in itself has
a serious effect upon local trade. It is
the tendency of people generally to get
all they can and to keep all, they get. A,
B and C each owe D $5. The amount is
small but if they would make the eat
io settle it would enable D to pay E $l5
and E in return might close accounts with
F who would then liquidate his little in
debtedness to A, B and C. Thus the
thing works in a circle and by mutual ef
fort at accomodation all are relieved. $5
seems like a small sum—but when one
lacks just that,amount to keep a, note
from going to protest and can't get it, the
figure assumes huge proportions. There
are some yam take advantage of the cry
of "panic" to avoid paying small bills.—
With such, of course, argument is useless
but there are many who thoughtlessly
neglect to settle small accounts which they
are abundantly able to do, that may make
a note of this and go to bed with a clear
conscience, feeling that they have done all
they could—and that is as much as can
he asked—to "'relieve the stringency in
the money market."
HOW,,,LONG AND HOW MANY.--HOW
long do you think it took to write the Bi
ble? Fifteen hundred years. From Mo
ses, who wrote Genesis, to St. John, who
wrote Revelations, it was that long, long
time.
How many people helped to write it?
More than thirty. There were Matthew,
Mark, Luke, John, Paul and Peter.—
['here were Moses, Ezra, David, Daniel,
and Samuel. Some wee shepherds, some
farmers, some fisherman, some tent ma
kers, some kings, some judges, some prin
ces ; some were learned, and some were
unlearned ; and yet they all agree in what
they write. There is not so much as a
word of diSagreement in the whole book.
How could that be ? Because God did
the thinking of the Bible. Thizthoughts
in the Bible, are all God's thoughts.
Those thirty men only did the writing.
They wrote just what God tald them.—
How many different sections of books are
there in the Bible? Sixty-six, all bound
together, making one beautiful whole. It
is a bjessed book. Prize it above all the
books in the wide, wide world. Make it
the man of your counsel and the guide'of
your life. tour life can never be a fail
ure if you fellow its instructions. You
will live for a purpose, and save your
soul, and not thyself only shall be saved,
but others through thee.
SUSPICION.—Some men always suspect
the motives of others, and manifest a
restless spirit in their persuit id life.—
This is the result envy or cowardice,. or
both. They are always . whining about
other persons trying to injure them in
their calling, or detracting from their
reputation ; when in fact few
_people, be
stow a thought. uptin,either. You cannot
draw blood frog' a turnip, neither can you
destroy a good reputation. Men who see
the necessity of constantly defending
themselves have great reason to suspect
something in themselves, which they seek
to hide beneath their own defence.—
Shakspeare uttered a truism when he
said:
"Enspencion haunts the4gailty mind.%
Ott 1) ta
. Oh I ,-no, we,ne'et! forget theet
Thou :h the' blendin". Willeisr waves
' . .lta s shidoitTilviopinkbraricheS:
O'Or:theirloriely peaceful graves. '
• Thookh the fordli loved, , the,eherlshed.
Have lotigidnee from us tied, •
They are still our dearest 'treasures
We ne'er forget our dead. , •
At the - dawn of early-Morning.;
At the evening's - hour, of prayer,
When our path is bright .and sunny,
Or dark wkthelouds'of care ;.
When we boW o ur heads so rrow.
Or whed joys areroinid us'spread7-
Whate'er our lot in life may be,
We ne'er forget our dead..
Tliose who have passed bloominkyoutb.
The bright, the fait, the gay:
Those who - have meekly borne the heat
And burden of the day?- . •
They now are calmly resting , •
In their quiet, solemn bed;
Yet in memory still they live—
We ne'er forget our dead.
What We Should Sleep On.
One may imagine the internal impuri
ty-of a feather bed after it has been slept
u on a month a , ear • but Live ten and
That baffles imaaination !
secretions of, nobody knows
twenty years!
The reekin,
ow many, to. les, in some cases sie: an
dying bodies, are stowed away in these
ticks, -and when they are heated up by
your kindly warmt* thy come out and
attack you with their countless little en
venomed darts, just when you are least
active, , least able to resist them. Is not
this reason enough why languor and head
aches follow such • a nights rest? I al
ways shudder when , I get into a "hospi
table" 'feather beds Some housekeepers
wash them every five years. I should
want them washed every five weeks, and
then not feel safe in them.'
- 'Theirs is reason enough for discarding
feathei beds, but what shall we take in
their place? Hair is elegant and comfor
table, but very expensive, and it needs
cleaning at least once a year—oftener, in
fact, which is an additional expense.--
Clearly, everybody can't have hair. Straw
if often changed, is a good bed for those
who work hard and sleep soundly, and
delicate people sometimes put their feath
er bed under it, spread a thick comforta
ble over it, and find- themselves far more
refreshed than when sleeping on feathers.
But husks are better still—not the coarse,
soiled, mildewed article; but the inside
husk, soft and clean. If we want the beet
bed we can make from them, we will wet,
braid, and then dry , them; then undoing,
strip them with a fork or - guage. as we
choose, or this can be done withcut braid
ing, which only curls them. A merry
evening or two, with the children to help
will prepare enough for a bed. Put them
into an open tick, so that they may. be
readily aired ; spread a comfortable over
them, and you will have a bed scarcely
inferior to the best, hair mattress for com
fort and durability. This material, makes
good pillows also, does nicely for children
who do not mind the slight rustling; but
hair is still softer; and it costs no wore
than feathers. •
PRESENT DUTY:— . IIc) way to make
easy times is as clear as daylight.
Let every man. or woman who owes
money pay it at once ; if it is possible.
Be willing to make a sacrifice in order
to meet promptly ail your
.engagements.
Stop grumbling at the . faults or mis
takes of others, and attend faithfully to
your own affairs.
Deal fairly, leniently, and cheerfully
with all persons who owe you or are in pe.
con ia ry trouble. -
Ii you are out of debt, thank the Lord;
and then go around among yourAriends,
and enemies too if you have them, and ren
der them all the assistance in your power.
Don't hoard your money; but loan it
or use it_ to relieve the needy, on the same
principle as yoti would give bread to the
needy in a day of famine.
Do what you can in every way to re
lieve pecuniary distress, to check the cur
rent of financial embarrassments and re
store public confidence.
If you are a bank officer or director,
don't be cross a minute. Smile, as a Chris
tian, from morning till night. Give an
encouraging word, if possible, to all, and
by all means strain every nerve to help
all who need it.
A BABY Snow.—At the baby show at
Manchester, N. H., the following premi
ums were given : A flue gold necklace to
Mrs. J. H. Stevens, of Bedford, for a boy
under sia'motiths ; gold - cup to Mrs. Hen
ry J. Hazeltine, of Manchester, for best
girl. under 12 months; gold medal to
Mrs. Norris C. Gault, of Hooksett, best
boy under 20 months: $lO gold •-coin to
Mrs. Thomas Gerald, of Manchester. for
baby with the reddest hair ; pair of gold
mugs to Mrs. Charles H. Clement, of
Derry, for twin girls twenty : tivo months
old ; gold medal to Mrs. Thomas Burns,
of Nashua, for twin boy- n years old ;
three gold medals to Mrs: Cyrus R. Bacon,
of West Henniker, for triplet boys. There
will be another baby show next year,
probably- more extensiire than this, for
the committee have doubbled the premi
ums and offered .a gold medal to each
child entered in order to bring their
babies aloqg with their pumpkins and
pigs,' for ebb aulusemet of the pub
lic.
Adversity exasperates fools, dejeeta
cowards, draws out the, facilities of the
wise, puts the mcidest to the necegeity of
trying their skill, awes -the opulent, and
makes the idle industrious, Much may
he said in favor ofadversity, but the worst
of it ie, it has no friends.
"Sam and ,Pile:!":.
* A. -day 'ortwdsince, Harry Blanchaid,
secret service detective , ' hit° , Sagi-'
-naw-,co,mity iittOr eniair-who was charged
with ~hoiing,tan. i pefed with the" mitits.--,,
He had the name and ileibription" of , the
inan, , and Wiiii„infiirmed before
, starting
that lid: would have look .out. or he,
*quid get,WAtni% or a bullet put into
him, aa the'vft4law, •Samuel Large,,bad
')ltated 'that, he Waiildlieverbe taken with='
out `having made a red fight: _ Many ,
direndeftilnaki this -boast, but lacl(the
'backbone" to act up to their words, and
Blanchard did not pay much attention to
.thewarning. After he arrived at Sap
naw he made a' few cautious -inquiries of
an ex-Detroiter, and ascertained,that Mr.
Large was stopping with a relative abOut
twelve miles from Wenona. - He went
down 'the river, and at Wenona learned .
that' Large and his brother-in•law had
left for-home about two hours before, and
armed. He was alio informed, that Large
lad in some way received a hint that
"one of those Detroiters" was coming_ up
to see him and 'would, therefore, be on.
his guard. Blanchard hired a horse and
started for the house over a road a fbot
deep with'mad and water. It was within
an hour of dark when he came in sight of
the place where he hoped to find his man.
He hitched his horse in the woods, looks '
littis • • _ • • -
this revolverand - - - -Iralketfrboldt,
the house. The children badwitneised
. .
• • . were
prepared for him. Large's brother-in-law
opened the door, spoke civilly, and Blan
chard took the seat which was offered to
him. There was no sign of Large, and
it was sometime before the detective hint
ed at his business. lie first made inqui
ries abont pine lands, and thete asked' af-,
ter-the-price-of-real- estate, so -that-, the
man was in doubt whether hie'visitor was
a speculator or an officer of the law.—
Blanchard finally asked, as if merely in
quiring for an acquaintance, "Oh, by the
way, have you seen Sam, Large lately 7'
"Is it Sam or me you ' want ?" replied
the man, and he was not done sp eaking
before be hauled out a' navy revolver,
half as lon as his arm, and held it on a
line with B lanchard's eye. The men wt re
about four feet apart, and for a long thir
ty seconds there was not a move or a
sound to. disturb the ticking of the clock,
The revolver was cocked, herd with a
hand that did not shake, and the two
i i
men looked steadily int( .each other's eye.
The wife sat at the 9the end of the room
&spectator, and one of t e children stood
behind the f'ather's chair. The detective
thinks he lived a whole week's time. in
that half minute. He saw "shootwln
that man's eye, and' was almost afraid of
startling him into pulling the trigger as
he replied in a subdued voice, "Sam is
the man I'm after."
"That's . a different thing," said the
man, lowering his, revolver. "He went
out of the back door . as you came in, and
is three miles into the woods by this
time."
Of course he would say nothing to
criminate his relative, to aid in his arrest,
but he was very friendly with Blanchard
after be bad ascertained that he was not
after any but Sam. He even walked
down to where the detective hitched his
horse, and his parting words were : "If
you'd said you wanted me, or raised a
finger, I'd have bored you thro' quink'n
wink ! If you want to catch Sam, I've
no particular objection, but your best and
surest way will be to shoot him first, and
then arrest him afterward."
TRAT'I3 PURTY Coon.—Stotesbury lost
his nose in early life during an interview
With a patent hay chopper, but he suc
ceeded in procuring a wax nose of such
marvellous construction that only keen
scrutiny 'could detect the fraud... One
night limit winter,' while Stotesbury was
on his way to Miss Johnson's, a tremen
dous fire broke out, and Stoteshury stop
ped to look at it. He became deeply in
terested and drew quite near to the flame.
The heat was so great that Stotesbury's
nose gradually softened, and assumed
seething of the shape of a raw oyster.
He did not notice it, however, but went
calmy onward to Miss Johnson's. When
he entered, the servant girl at the door
gyve one startled look at him and began
to laiikh in a, most boisterous manner.-- 4
Stotesbury, indignant; pushed onward to
the parlor; as he entered, Miss Johnson
rose to receive him. As she caught a
glimpse at his 'nose she stopped, looked
amazed, and then buried her thee in her
handkerchief in a convulsion of laughter.
"\Vbat is the "meaning of -this extraordi
nary conduct, Miss Johnson ?" demanded
Stotesbury. "Oh, Mr. Stotesbury," she,
said, "please excuse me; 7 but .wha—wha
—what's the matter with your nose ?"--
Stotesbury went to the pier glass, gazed
at that cereous oyster on his face--jam
med his hat suddenly on his head, and
fled from the room. As he reached the
entry, he found Miss Johnson's little.bro
ther just in the door, and, as that urchin
perceived the condition of Stoteshury's
face, he gave one wild yell and shrieked,
come here, come here quick,
and look at old Stotesburv's nose!" Then
Stotesbury emerged all at once from the
front door and went home. ,He is now
wearing an 'lndia-rubbei nose, and he
goes past Miss Johnson's without ringing_
the bell.—Max Adder.*
NEVER SAY FAIL.
Keep pn-hing—'tie wiser
Than sitting aside,
And dreaming, and sighing
And waiting the tide.
In life's earnest battle.
They only prevail
Who daily march onward
And never say fail.
Few men are wise enough to Prefer the
blame that Is useful for them, to the praise
that Wimp them.
, „ •
The etkama..,of Life. - •
- There:are. a . thousand. things in this
world to afflict and sciddenbut, oh I bow
many thatitre beautiful ; end good I• The
world' teems , with' beati,ti 4 .- wi th objeds
which gladen .'the eye: and warm the
heart. We; :alight' he hippy if we"would.
There am ills that we cannot escape—the'
approach of dise4e. and death, 'of misfor
tubei.ttie shackling of: 'earthly
, xies, and
the eanker•worm kvi,ef, 77 -but a vast ma
avoided.
of the evils that toliet - us• might he
avoided. • The curse of intemperance; in
terwoven as iils - with all the ligaments of,
society, is one which' never. strikes but to'
destroy. • There is hot'eneinight pa up.'
on the record of its progress..4—nothlng tor
shield it *um the heartiest execration of
the human-"race. It should not exist—k
ought not." DO away with all' this—let
wars come to an end, and. kindness mark
the intercourse' netwecn man and inari.-- 1
We are too selfish;-"as if. the world .was
fe
made-r us glows: • Rol much happier
would.we be were we. to labor more erg
estly to promote•each Mii's good, - G..
has blessed hil'yvith a home which is n
dark. Thetiqs .•
s' sine everywhere—i •
the ski, - upon
,the earth—there would
in mint hearts, -if weould look around
us. The storms • die sway, and a , taight:
sun shines out. Summer drops her Meg :
ed curtain upon theearth, which is very
beautiful
changing breath upon it., God reigns in
,•• -n:--Martnnr - notat - ir-B-•,ZO
ful ; and we can live happier t - han we do.
The Fire That Old Nick Built.
' Here is a capital imitation of the style
of "The House that Jack Built," worth
to become a household favorite; <
War—This is the fire that Old ,Nie
built, '
Standing Armies—This is the fuel. tha
feeds_theArt-thatiOßLNick built.
Military Schools —This is the ax tha n
cuts the wood that feeds the fire that Ohs
Nick built.
Love of Glory—This is the stone that
grinds the as that cuts the wood that
feeds the fire that Old Nick built.
Public Opinion• -This is the sledge, with
its face of steel, :that. batters the stone
that grinds the as that cuts the wood that
feeds the fire that Old Nick built.
Peace Convention—This is one of the
blows wequietly deal to fashion the sledge,
with - its face of reel, that batters the stone
that grinds the ax that cuts the wood that
feeds the fire that Old Nick built
P ace Seeiegy—Thj's is the smith that
works with a Will to ,give force to the
blows that we quietlk deal to flashon the
sledge, with its face of steel, that batters
the stone that grinds' the ax that cuts the
wood that feeds the fire that Old Nick
built.
Etvrnal Truth—This is the spirit so
gentle and still that nerves the smith to
work with a will to give force to.the blows
that we quietly deal to fashon the sledge,
with its face of steel, that batters the
stone that grinds the , 'ax that cuts the
wood that feeds tlie,lire that Old Nick
A GOOD STORY. = We hear a-good sto
ry told of a man who went to the frontier
to see a friend. The family • consisted of
the husband, and two grown sons. The
old lady was the only one of the family
who did not take a little of the "Oh be
joyful." Sittin&by the fire a few minutes
the old man tipped him.a wink, and the
visitor followed him out. Stopping by a
tree he pulled out a long necked - bottle,
remarking, have tolteep it. hid, for the
boys may get to drinking and the old
woman will raise the deuce." They took
a drink and returned to the fireside.—
Soon Tom, the oldest 'son, asked the visi
tor out to see a colt,, and taking him be
hind the ham pulled out a flask, remark
ing, "I.have to keep this hid, for• the old
man will get drunk and the deuce is to
pay,"and they both took a drink and re
turned. Soon Bob stepped on the visitor's
toes and walked off; the visitor following.
As they reached the pigpen, Bob drew
out a good sized bottle remarking, "You
know the old man and Tom will get drunk
and I have to hide this." The visitor con
eluded' he could not drink confidentially
with the whole family, and started home.
"An effeminate man,'" says a recent
wri
ter, "is a weak poultice. He is a cross
between table-beer and:gingettpop, with
the cork left out; afresh water mermaid
found in a cow pasture, with her hauds
filled with dandelions. He is a teacup
full of syllabab ; a kitchen in,tr.)wsers; a
sick monkey with a blonde mustache. He
is, a vine' without any tendrils; a fly
drowned iu oil ; a paper kite in a dead
calm. He lives like a butterfly—nobody
can tell why. , 'He is . as lazy as a slug,
and has no • more hope than last year's
summer fly.' He goes through life on tip
toe, and dies like cologne water spilt over
the ground.
There is a clever lad in Binghamton,
N. Y., who will get his living in this
world and no mistake. For playing tru
ant maternal authority cut Whig supper:
Casting one fond,look at the authoress of
his existence, ha paused at the door to
say : "Mother, I am' going to die, and
when I am nd more, I wish the docfor to
cut me open and look at my stomach."
The maternal heart was filled 'with awful
for tbodings; and the_materrial yoke ask
ed what he meant. wish it to be
known," he answered, "that I died of star
vation." This wag enough.. The small
boy wag triumphant, and retired to his
iittle bed gorged to repletion:':
"Fred," said a young man walking up
street, the other day, after listening to his
wonderful story, "do you know why von
are like a harp struck by lightning ?" 'No,'
says. Fred. "I give it up." "Because a
harp struck by Itghtning guisii lee
$2,00 PER YEAR',
,
kritlint °2
Etit,it;d
On a tombaton
inscribed,- 4 she di
A Supreme Coo
"the best little worn
What is the di
and jeweller?
other saki orate ,
Punotuatilin was first used liteisture,
in 1520. Beforethattimewordwidsentenc
ea weriputtogetheilike is. ,i t - - ' •
- -"You are as u Cain", said a man
to= fiis wife., " "'she replied,-"imi:
are certainlyAbl. > bearit."'
'J he' guardian of a woMan'shahiii
,
ness is 'her husband% love; ' and 'of" bar:.
honor, her-afiktionlok him.
hr, dOes the "girl .of .the period"
Make the best_bousekeeper?:l3ecause-she - makei so Much bustle about a little waist.'
Indiana SACO teacherhad.bis eye
bldekened the other day by telling a far
'in4,4hat the earth revolved. Such non
sense is not allowable in Indiana.
. .
A-Califoritia-paper-tells:-Oont a toy,
, elimbing- a tomato vine to get . away from
a-mad-tioi--jomato-v*. ; :
normous
,size' in California, and so do lies..
Ven some man slaps me on 'der shout:7
der, and say, "I vas glad to hear you vas
so well," nod den stick behind my • back
his fingers to his nose, I haf my opinion
of dot feller..
The editor of the Huntsville (Mo.) ,
Herald pips the question in his paper in.
this fashion : "There's a cedilla
girl "in this town who can carry our - smoke
house keys for life, if shelf WAY say the
word:
A little boy asked his mother what
blood relations meant. She :explained
that,it in:ant near, relatives, .ete. After
thinking a moment, he said, "Then, moth
er, you must he the bloodiest relation. I
have got."
A German, speaking of a severe head
ache he had the previous evening, said to
his companion : ".ISfinetot ! mine head it
ached so pad I couldn't raise it off niine
pillow until I gets up and walks around
a little !"
A spread-eagle orator of New York
State wanted the wings of the bird to fly
to every town and county, to every vil
lage and hamlet in the broad land, but be
wilted whenn naughty boy in the crowd
sang out, "You'd be shot for a goose be
fore you had flew mile."
At a weekly meeting.a straight-laced
and most exemplary dOmfl submitted a '
report in writing of thkdestitute widows •
who stool in need of *lett from thb
congregation. "Are yoit ears, desk"
asked a sober brother, "that.yoa haveent:
braced all the widows I"' Se said be be", .
lieved he had. ,
A Green Bay merchant put out d sign:
of "ice water free." Another put out a
sign of free lemotade, and a third, offered
every customer ten cents in "monl. A
fourth man, who couldn't think .ot any.
thing better, got up a dog fight,. and
drew all the turowd.ti ,
•
• ,4.•
Spinks says that when he is burISV
shall not be particular about the phf; , "
and things on the hearse, but be woul.
like to have somebody in the. procession
carry his life insurance pegs" on a pole,
that the people may see 'what rich !widow
he has left.
"flow now ?" we said to Jones the etl
er morning, finding him loOking Unusual
ly cheerful and sprightly. notwithstand
ing the fact that he had been up, pretty
near all night. "You don't seem ,to,
affected by the crisis." And Jones mere
ly remarked, "No such thing. rts a boy."
Daniel Webster is not the only bright
boy born in New Hampshire. The }34-
ton Globe has heard of another youth re•
siding in Dover—who refused to take a
pill. His crafty mother thereupon se• ,
cretly p)stced the pill in a preserved pear,
and gave it to him. Presently she asked,
"Tom, have you eaten the pair." He re•
plied, "Yes, mother, all but the seed."
In Connecticut a certain magistrate
was called to, ail to liberate a worthless
&A tor. ' •
`"Well, John," said'the magistrate on,
entering, "can you swear thatyou -are not
worth twenty dollars, and that-you nev
er will be ?"
"Why," anstred theotlikvathetcha
grined at the Lion, "I Ciiiliskiti4hift
£am not vmetkihat amount I*7l
"Well, well," 'returned the tee
"I can swear the rest, so go alo
Andrg the man was sworn arid . . fie
ed.
TAE HORSE PPrum:N.—The following
is "The Horse Petition to his Driver," as
published by the Society for the Preven
tion of Cruelty to Animals. It is the de
sire of the lady managers that all chil
dren should commit this pretty appeal lo
memory ;
Up the hill ; whip mesnot ;
. Down the hill, hurry we not;
In the stable, iiirget me trot:; ' -
Of hay and core, rob me nor; •
With sponge and brush, neglect' ma
not;
Orenft. /17 hod,•deprive me not;
If sick or cold. chill me not
Vit.!, bit or reins..ierk me not;
And %%hen you tiro itiittz, sticilfot fie ,-
ENE
:tenday, Prussisi,i4
'ii:torsee
AtikingAnvii TON
iri 4ie world'!:
--nee betweeit a jailer
ruches celli and' 'tlie
• • .