Sabbath MedllalloM
BT li HUT.
To nti’CT gw Aral rtolct* of the awing
Anduy titan on,«N<^frf|By^tßß(i!
The „,••
tonrtlfv&h the .pherea.
w*
ttSMfWlhh Imnwtaf ■ > - - •
ltnw*h theull -pineand !■ tf»leo9> tMjjht".
Of branching threat tree, «nd in Urn fin# , r . ;1 Y j.,
Td tWfitehitt Wrapping ihh chilnrf‘*hul- ' L '< ’
In tW i#e« influence biWaplrlt tald.. '
Howfaolyi* ibvaabbatliof the heart t,
In mockety bf whom Earth's Mammon boildtr" -
Her priUce made oftrbdd end atorreWith gilded dome
Aid ptUplsttspptnga and With acartetelotli - .
ttantan alUreepread, >nd eallatfaspiln
.....
Within-eoti plastered riill»,aweMarißg wllhfc«W r -
-With htatliogtatioattd with ailkw floohea,'. -
Wph foWevrinf, and pomp andpridat- i . >
Enewtg on reftot, reading from a. bpok , s ,
With plden clasp; with patwnaing aft
Aa if the/ honored-God by kneeling then '
the wdrid and dtaretieh- - - -
I* Arid ahd wood and mound andrale and can, -.
In the deep ooUlndetand amp haunts, t y
By gently murmuring stream and in the rath
Of jwUdeat .cascade, in the ocean i»Wa,-' -
And where iMbiewen dash Upon tMiMf,- :
And in the ocffaldeptha.of tbs deep wmt— •
And wwabippcm tafr bwAtto
CarollTag *woet»ong», or ciorllog in the *ir.
With' ineeet ham, or howling in the' depth*
Of the lone wood, or baying on the plain -
Or lowing in the pastures green,-or on •
The Im (porting amid the fragrant gra**,-
Of bounding o’er the crag, or nigh aloft
Whirling in circle* on the buoyant air
Till lost from sight, or in the finely hut ’■
Cotered with rag*, or pining in cold want
And (tarring penary to pamper wealth
Or in the swelling bud* and opening flower
And wafting grain and bending bough,
Or the tall soughing pine, hymning Ilia preiae
Id nbrCT cea*ihg andg. '
Hi* altars rlne
On orery spot, where mockery ha* not built ,
A temple to earth's Mammon God and there•
By ereiy altar how the worshipper*
Of the Eternal Ood, whose spirit breathes
In erery thrill that warms to life and lore.
iN IPPBCTINfi STORY.
NANNIE NEAIu
AN AFFECTING STORY,
1 am a Bachelor! Don’t smile or pass
judgment rashly upon me—l must tell, why
i am wlial I am.
I can scarcely remember when my father
removed to the new village of Urookville.
It seems, too, that there is a 'dim remem
brance of an old house by the lake. It is all
vague, dim and uncertain, however. Yet I
sometimes find lingering within me a vision
of an old. brown building, with elms in front,
and a sleepy lake down in the'vnle, and such,
I have beard my father say was our home.
These impressions seem to me es much like
dreams as realities, end no wonder, either,
for the.footsteps of long years have marched
over them. But 1 do remember distinctly a
broad river that we crossed on bur way to
our new home, that is the most distant of
alt—its silvery waves flashing around the
flat ve crossed over bo, are not to be forgot
ten.
The streets of Brookville were not cleared
of stumps when we entered a little cottage on
Main street. There was a newness and a
freshness about everything there. It was not
long before it begun to assume a busy appear
ance, as new settlers came in, and new shops
and new stores went' up. My father was a
bricklayer, and I carried some of .the bricks
and mortar that went into what is now called
•‘the old Coopt House at Brookville,” and I
helped to rear its old walls! Time flies.
Among others who came to Brookville,
was a man named Neal. He had been a
merchant in one of the seapOrl cities, but
failing by injudicious speculations, he bad re
tired with a little wreck of his fortune to the
new village, either to recruit, or spend the
evening of his life in quiet. I never knew
which. He had been a hard drinker during
the last five years—the demon in the wine
glass had been the main rock on which he
wrecked his all.; and his wife he left in the
city, in the graveyard behind the steeple
Church —sent there by his abuses and cruel
ty. So said the old shoemaker who came
with Neal from the city.
Nannie Neal was a bright star gleaming
in the storm-night among the clouds. She
was the only child of the flew comer, and a
lovely being’sKc was 1 She was just my age,
or nearly, not April to June was
the difference, 1 b&ieve...
Neal managed to get a house a few rods
from oun; and he with his daughter; a sour
old dame of a housekeeper, both of whom
came with him constituted the fan>ily M
Nannie and 1 were not long in becoming
fait friends; we met, one Sunday afternoon
down in the clearing at the brookside, after
which the village was named, and there for
a fall hour we played “captive’s hasp” among
the broad walnut and poplar stumps that stood
like watching sentinels in the vale.
The very next day we went out together
on the hills, with our baskets, and gathered
whortleberries and talked and played {among
the rocks, and when we grew tired she sal
down and told me of her mother—of how
she used to weep white she sat at -her feet,
and then died in the cold night with con
sumption and a broken heart, and that the
Priest said she went to heaven to dwell with
the Virgin Angels.. I have since thought
that her mother was a Catholic, but of this I
am not certain.
Neal put up a tavern in Brookville, and
(lie (ettlera gathered there and drank. I re
member the first night there was *a noise
there and laughing, fiddling, dancing- and
singing,, and I thought it must he something
very nice, but my mother told me it wps a.
very wicked place, and that I must never go
there, I often wished my mother had never
told me that, Tor my Nannie was there ( and.
she was tny doarest/riepd. , • ~j
Years passed aa others, had, and Nannie
and, I grew up ( abe was one ofjha loveliest
creatureaof female. beauty L had <;rer seen.
She Was as gentle.as the-whisperingt of the
while winged zephyrs among the April flow
ers, and as pure.astba liUy itattenttonealb
the summer breeze Jo the Wst pf the rippling,
wares of the meadow rill, end yet stews*
reared among the wrecks of a father’s for-
. j£.s. <%
i t-i'i
:ty &?y: ill-
v '
m %^-zm isu?
ufne/4wMtnd heard time after time, the rude,
ctSirta jest; «nddrtßlientiWdnrhf drtmksfe
rneoiaround Ihelittlo banhorfittharkepl.
: Nannie waslwppily- ini possession of iMi
Virtues whieb naohle and beoulify woman's
character; SMiwps kindand
ttjer wild pornwiillirtolyj yeiUtaioveljfcairn
of tbecountenanoo-was litjgedwith tt shndo
of look;4bne,';deed, were
gshileas
iog among Ihe gdtdan dorters; NindieNaat
wits the lored one in Brookville. '
I loved ter when we weie children playing,
bn cophe an‘d rock and -dell; ‘and
Dow4hat »e wera-groi»n,l lored her with
airihapuaoalt»’idciatryor iny fooj»ptaa>
faeofc Not lnve
Vrti tmfilips i and-yfet ilio iecret waa
itraftdfoDdlyhbetWiedrbyeachhiddeD Mart.
Ah! wo wnc/faippyia theiaeeret heart w6r>
ship, Wa were often together, in tba wild
nook where we bad gathered berries when
children; siong.lbe brook -where tM waves
danced o’er their pebbly path that Jed to the
river; in the qld woods, where oak and pine
pointed theit taper spires up to Heaven,'we
rambled and-dreamed and loved in silence,-
with none but nature with us; .For hours we
have salon the-brink of the brOok, watching
the frisking fish gliding like golden creatures
among the crystal waves, and the mellow
sunlight trembling on the tree tops, and fading
away - behind tba bills, and all the time we
felt that our hearts held sweet converge in
breathless whispers—thus a holy tie was
weaving woof and Web into our life and hopes
and destinies. . .
Old Neal became aware of our growing'
intimacy, and became enraged. Oneevening,
when I had gone to. spend a few hours with
Nannie, at her home, (at an inn as it was, I
could no longer - stay' away,) the- old - roan
came to the little silting room, where We were
and sternly ordered me away.' I arose, end
a tear drop bong upon Nannie’s eyelid. I
look my,hai,andael went ont, tha old man
sqng after me—“ Hod canier. rt -
'Dio old housekeeper flaUenetf her ugly
face against the glass door between the two
rooms, and echoed the chorus—“hod car
rier I”
The old shoemaker stopped hammering his
leather, as 1 went out, ood spoke low, and
said ha would see me that evening-.
The rabble in the dram shop, through
which 1 had to pass, caught the notes of deri
sive taunt, end shouted it after mis—“ Ho
d I” The infernal tannt yet rings in
my ears.
That evening the old shoemaker saw me,
and told me Nannie loved me, and that! ww
should seo-each other clandestinely. I then
thanked him, and through bis interference
Nannie and I met almost every day, and
talked and loved.
And in this way we spent some of our hap
piest hours, dreaming of the bliss that wins
to be oure in a fow short months, for when
the summer was post we were to be married.
Love with us was-now a reality, and in the
solitudes about Brookville, we dreamedof .its
bliss, as together we watched the drifting of
the white clouds riding on .the blue ocean of
the sky.
Our dreams were like the clouds. A cloud
was io the sky with a storm in its bosom, too,
but we saw it not. >
Christmas day we were to be married.
None knew it however, except the old. Shoe*
maker and Rob Lincoln. Rob was to con
vey her to a neighboring bouse in a new
sleigh, and I Was to, meet him therm with the
village parson. Such was the arrangement.
The day before Christmas the hills and
houses were covered with snow. Brookville
was all life far the enjoyments .of the season.
That morning two strangers appeared in our
midst. None knew from whence they came.
I mel them on the street early in the day. 1
disliked their looks and turned aside... There
was a lurking look of sin lingering about the
face of the eldestheartless looking wretch.
The younger appeared but little better. .
All day long the revel increased in and
about Neal’s , house. Once or twite there
came near being a fight. Just after sundown,
I met Rob Lincoln running towards hie fath
er’s bouse qt full speed. 1 had P° Ume to ask
him a single question. There’ was Iha wild
est (error flashing front the brave young
man’s eyes.
“Ron with me to Neal’s—run—dreadful
limes there (’’'and he grasped my arm end
started to drag me. I tore myself from his
grasp and bounded away with him.
Hist I the wind blowsaow just as it shrieked
by my ears aslrahup the snow;covered
street of'Brookville on that fdtal 'evening.
Draw your chair closer; 1 wish to speak id
whispers now. Within Neal’s house, when
we reached it, was this scene.
The Old housekeeper stood- with her chap
ped hands in her yellow apron; with her
face Satisfied against- a dirty pane of a glass
door, looking into the tavern. A few of the
village sots were staggering around the room,
or half dozing on the pine benches round the
fire. - The old shoemaker seemed pleading
with Neal, who was nearly drunk,' to revoke
some decree of his; and mjr owni Nannie
was strugglingin the arm* of one of the two
strangers, 'white the otter stood' a little'way
off, grinning -with grim satisfaction! ■My
blood tolled in titelfy knbtted vein. ’ Wifeh I
inio the iareoa, old' KM stammered
into ddrookeaslang. •; t ■ " i
;“So, hai ’Mister- HfidCar rier, I’ve sold
Nan to h city gentlemen I wnd be held opn
roleau of gold coin. A low Jaogtt gUrgied
up thifoat of the infernal purchaser.
‘‘Nannie sold!’ V V-v -
■ I grew dizzy—ihe .room yvidt-iiff tragedy
aderaed lb, ..aroujid with I. jieard
out Nev.how can yptjf.parter your
own pure child away to one wftdte heart is
LHLIiaL
IS-'te
.ki'V.'‘ *^ 4
.** w*
—•- .-iJi
.^r ; '
*- Wirfr !gy
m'.s.vpvt.vi 1 ' 1 H isv v ,
“tok AGivii^i^vammvfa
«•*•* '-
tOfdnyyp blapkssjany purgatory,»fler proms
ising your poprfljeat} wife
bod mothwAOiherldearchildJ’’..
A dnmkeucutse cams .froouhebot lungs
of tbafathoragainsltbe shoemaker ftnd'lusj
own^WM*? “better Ibaathq wifo of an ipflh
' f
, Xsa w'Uw'qht pitted face grinning
: qndMhdnlsaw the mild
d( jnyfpMr^a^'&jnqty. jSTajniie
piptM.^^pgJ(qsm Vhelt spckfelij and htf
fight handi.lnpl pas ihe monßlons
g.rasp t iP?P%'°gly' **>' mefor helji
Sba my. papne, t rushed’ to bejr
rescue. . Bobltyucolawai before me.
;
r; Qld jiqaj was enraged (bat Wp should das
fifty &.Jnfa|ny. towhjcA
he had sold grasping the olcTshpe
maker’s hammer from the bench, he hurled it
ai us. The -weapon flew 'close by Rob’s Oar,
ofld slruck' tho head of ray poor Nanniei
With a low murmur of ‘Mnother, mother I’i
she sanfc in my arms to the floor. The two
strangers fled forever from Brookville. I cal-i
ed agein and again to NaWnie to tell me she
had 1 Dot fled from earth to heaven ; but she
kept her blue' eyes fixed bptm me, and i
changeless smile rested upon her damp face.
And all' this lime, the old'housekeeper kept
her hideous face pressed' against the glass,
grinning through the scene. And old Neal
stood with bis' arms folded, clutching in one
hand Iheroleau of gold,' I called again and
again jo Naqnie; pud like a child, whispered
in her ear that I loved her still ; hut the
changeless smile. Was the only answer. The
p(d,shoemakerranaodjtrought the village sur
geon, He came and knelt down by her on
the tavern floor, and took her pale hands in
his.~ I loved him more than ever for holding
it so softly and tenderly, examining the livid
spot half bid by her auburn hair, where the
hammer had struck. I could bear it no long
er;! whispered "Doctor, is Nannie gonol”
I could not say dead, but. worse I
And be itdd bis finger significantly on bis
noble brow. --
Rob Lincoln, (h» doctor and the old shoe
jnaker carried Nanoiefrom the tavern to the
doctor’s house, and'Hollowed.
And the blood of'the victim felj, drop by
drop, on the pure white snow. t
The next day did Neal went to eternity.
The Angela of Retribution had watched his
step*, Sod bad marked his last going out.
The shad of the'pale Archer had struck him
id vex, and then destroy. In the battle strife'
with the' demon of delirium tremens he was
overcome, end hid spirit shrieking with fears,
wedt to 'be 1 judged tiy fchrn Who weighs idi
mortality in the eternal balance of Truth.
He was buried beneath the anow.web that
lay on the yard behind the village church,
and no eye in Bropkville wept.
Day after day I.watched by the bed side
of poor Nannip, and whispered to her and
wet her dry lips with water. She mostly lay
with her languid eyes closed, but when she
did open them they started out after me with
such terror that I shrunk from them. Arid
she would point her Unger at me, and call
me a monster, and command me to carry her
back Id Brookville to her own dear——.
Oh I how agonizing that was! .To hear her
call my own name, and link with it the fond
est endearments—yet look upon me as the
monster who had bartered gold for her love
liness.
Thus-, days and nights passed, and (he
faithful surgeon all tho time endeavoring to
call back her wandering mind.
It was all in vain!
'The cloud that had drifted in our summer
•Icy had burst upon us in a winter storm that
knew no spring time in lira I
My poor loved and lost Nannie Neal! She
sits in the broad'flock of sunbeams (bat foil
through her window in one of the tildekrooms
at the D—— Asylum, a harmless, dream*
ing Lunatic!* "
'And there she will ait and chatter to her
bird add her straw until the good angels beck*
on her away!
I have sat by her side <ln that'neat little
cell, looking into the dreamy eyes, many a
lonely hour; but ehe bas never known me I
‘ She sometimes‘calls to fier kind-hearted
matron, and bids her, “lake the stranger
awtiy^
And I have sometimes seen tears in that
biod-beorted woman’s eyes as 1 have depart
ed at the same time urging her to treat poor
Nannie kindly. "
And now fair feeders, do you wonder that
1 am a bachelor. r m-.
- Believe this for me, there- never wss but
one Nannie Neal, and she yet lives, but a
Maniac I" -
Rum did all this I
A Sharp Boy.
The Rutland (Vt.) Herald says that fin
the list night of the Vermont legislative see.
sioflj'while the school bill was under discuss
ion,' a member complained that' schoolboys
had lost their politeness and their respect.—
liir,'Biftelt, of Lyndon, said s— ■
'*”l dclthoivledge the truth* of the' gentle*
mahVVemafts. i was‘once , forced to’take
off my,,cat skin cap M every
NoW, iao boy ’uncpyers his head: A. '■ feW
year's 'since I was jridiog through Orleans
. county in a sleigh, and.overtoor ahoy whd
had , attained tho age of nine years; :Ho
stepped otit of lhe'poad jb Jet nth
Tbere he stood crttst, erect, bow andaspir
ing.-Jfcdld.enk doff f Jiia beaver
—W-»d .y,oj»;s)»uld §l.
wayalake off.yqorffitrt |q, a : genlleraan,”r-*
Said he, , „ - T .^ t j
" ; s 6
■ large Ja jd aMachuiwttS,lhaV fertneia hisafto
sell thenS by IheqWrter, like pbrlt, j ThdM
ary chicken? IQcrgw.over,
\r
«!-; 'I
•<!■« frii-
<v
v.*d;
»t M|J.g<|>iOH!> y SOgU. a . , r ' , ,
! v **ldeclarel havdn mind to putthitbed
fltlilt into thowssb to-dsy, it don't reallyneetf
W go, neither,'butLbellevel'ilsend it idown.
iWbyi yotr*ee,‘aunt we * RsvO 'a very small;
trash toiday V tf-snaali that Susan will get
brocket leesi, and 1
sballhavels'pajr i |ter fuit hi mUclnts t bough
She worked till night $ and so- 7 ''’--. tt ' -s :
• ' "Sidp c a'mSlnent ) ('de«f,’ i 'said ; the old' lady
g&)'lly, andthlhk; I'll baptise'
nQile, wouldn’t you Iw slid
before a $w KcuVa of daylight
yddr*e|( |hd,‘ famny,*of better"
«ifl, d J(ew hou rsto’ rest T ‘ U is a
haw way for a woman' to eh.rd_fiqt ;ii»ing ;
begrudge hpf
lar., *lliis,^^ 4 Succession'
plod
ded through jhe.poid ,io jwr,cUBtomers’ hqus».
Let her go at noon if she gets through.. Vyho
knpws but she ntay; haye to come from the
sick couch-of sorae Jovedione, and that she.
counts the theminules—?till she
can return, fearing even she may come one
too. late. , Put it bnsk .0n .the bed, end sit
down while I tell you what one poor, washer
woman.endured.because heremployer did as
yon would, to mpkeouttfae wash.” ■: And the
old lady took her spectacles and wiped away
the tear-drops that drom some cause had gath
ered In her aged eyes, and then with a trem
ulous voice related; the following story.
“There wos never a mow blithesome mar
riage than Adalinh Ralbigh’s; There was
was never a mSideln that went to the mar
riage altar with higher hbpeS or more blissful
anticipations. Wedding the man ofherchoice,
he, : Whose loved (dries had ever filled her heart
like a'ldusid-gd'sh 1 froth the land of light, o'
young, talented, ddble fellow, oneof whom
any woman mighi well be proud, it was no
wonder that mote seemed a gold waif from
Eden: FeW indeed have a sunnier life in
prospect than had she.' For te if years there
fall no shadow t on her. path. Her house was
one of beauty and rare luxury, her’husband
the same kind, loving man as. in the days of
courtship, winning laurels evpry year in hjs
profession, adding comfortate his hotpe and,
joys to his fireside!, , ,And brides these, bles
sings, God.bad given another’.; a little crib
stood by herAedside—- its tenant a.rosy, baby
boyp the image'of ilk-Talheri and dearer to
thode wedded lovers .than aught else earth
coujd pffe.r • • ’ :
“6lit I muit not dwell upon those happy
day ; mya story has to do with other ones.- It
was with them as oil it is wjitb others, just
when the beam is the brightest, the clouds be
gin to gather. A series of misfortunes find
reverses occurred with startling severity, and
swept front,thept everything but love and
their baby, boy... Spared to that and to' one
another, they bore a bravo heart, and in a
(distant city began anew their fortune, Wei)
and strongly did they struggle, and at length
they began to see the sunlight of prosperity
shine again on their home. But a little while
and the shadowy fell* The husband sicken
ed, end lay for months on his couch languish
ing, not only with mental and bodily pain,
but oftentimes for food and, medicine. All
that she could do, the wife performed, with
willing band. She. went from one thing loan
other till, at length, she who.had worn a satin
garb and pearls upon her bridal day, toiled
at the wash-iub for the scantiest living. Long
before light she would'rise every morning,
and loili for the dear ones at home, and then
many of kiss upon the lips of her pale com
panion and sleeping boy, start nut through
the deep, cold snow, and grope her way to
the too alien smoky kitchen, and toil there at
rubbing, scalding, rinaing, starching—not un
frequently wading knee deep through the snow,
to fasten her freezing clothes' upoil the line.
And when night came, with ber half dollar,
she would again grope through the snow -to
ber oft-times lightless and fireless' home,—
and ob, with what a shivering 'heart' Would
she draw near lothem.feariog ever shewonld
be locate. Jt is a faet that for six weeks at
one lime she peyer saw lhe face of her hus
band or child, save by lamplight, except only
on the Sabbath. - How, glad she would have
been to havehad once in a wbilo a small wash
gathered,for her! " .
"One dark winter iinorning, as she was
busily preparing tbe frugal, breakfast and get
ting everything ready before she left,- her hus
band called her to bis Bedside. “Ado,” said
be, almost in a whisper, "1 want you' should
try to gel home early 10-night —be home be
fore sundown—do, Aqa.”
“I’ll try,” answered |sha with a choked ul
lerance.
* "Do try, Ada. I have a strong desire to
see your face by. sunlight. Toidsy is Friday i
I have not seen it since Sundayj I must look
upon it once again.” “ ’ " ’
"Do you feel wpred Edward 1” asked she
anxiously, feeling,QB she Spoke. - ‘
“No, no, I 'think t ot j but 1 do wf nt to see
your face once more by 'gunlTghr’,l cannot
wait till Sunday.” , , ’ , ‘ ~
"Gladly tyould ahs larry by his bedside till
(be.suofighkilol? through their little’window,
but it was not to be. She was ahd
in the dusk of xsorniog must go forth lo la
bor. She: laihhWswbet kisae*. given and. ta'-
kefl and f neelfvordsiwbirlperedjp.the sweet
est love uwei. sShereaqhed tbnhttcheqro’fher
employer, and with'a irooWedfacpwaiietd for
the basket lo be brought,: - AbeauUfuLefHile
playedover her waadaeo as »bo assorted .its
contents. She could get
two o’clock,- and perhaps iftsbe.fhurrsd, by
one. Love and anxiety lent new attength to
her weary srtti«i'arid fivemtootet after, the
tlock slruck one/sfte bung ibe last garment
v-:-'^M'cd) V>l’- v.--,
SrtiK's
•ftatjay
Ipe pxgwar y>Hr w;»«' | ; j i Xl' is v yy.j v ?» " .ti 1
&"f ROrSllJrpßSl *
7 —■ 1 .yz -; i fj, ,■
on ana wasjastAboot-emptying her
t tifia o6fede>iil wilhadobp-
Is ofbad-quilts, saying. *A« you have so small
ydu Ohy do
these JjreM 1 A wait bjj agoiiyf wniDg from,
Ihe keenest'fopmsin of tjh|“hegrjj gushed to
hiir ligs. ' it ‘ai msT sho 'cOuld,
she agaia took Wihe hoardandruhbed and
hungouf..' itwas'h'ilf’(>S«tiiiredwHenagaip
she afafled for Aout to loti.* And
the agedmartyr fobbed.’.’ 1.. . tf
; '>uAn hour toolate,'’'continued she,' ariefa
long pauses Han husband wuadying-4-yes
pltßost gooe. ’ HWhad’stwngtfa given topyiia.
perafew-words to "frantic wir«*Mo’
tpllhai Sow habWlOngedie Wok upod hef
faw.abd’bhWihat nolilibd (dbekathiclrtwo,
he ppuW see, Wf hftef thttf,tbsghiiistrain*
etfevery nerve, be layin theshadow pfdeath.
orin Kour'she pillowed bid head Upon her suf
jfenng'liteaati and then—Aeiearut rest.”
; But for the grudging or thoughtless exaction
of her mislreds, she bad once more seen the
love-light flash in her husband’s eyes, and he
have looked upon her who was so dear.
' Mary, Mary, dear, bp kind to your washer
Woman.''' Instead of making her work as long
as may be, shorten it, lighten it.
; Fdw Women wilf go ‘ but tb’ daily Washing
Unless their needs are terrible. - No woman
ou her bridal day expects to labor in that
■Way, and Bo sure, my niece, if constrained
Id op so, it is the lasi resort.' ' Thepoor'wora
an, laboring so bdrd’jbr'ydu.'has not always
been a washer woman, ' She has' seen awful
trials, too. ' I can read her story in her pale,
sad face.' Be kind'to her pay her all she
asks, and let her go home as early as you
con.
“You have finished m good season to-day,
Susan,” said Mrs. Merton, os the washer
woman, with her old cloak and hood on, en
tered the pleasant chamber Jo ask for her
pay. ,
"Yes ma’am, that I have; and my heart
mp’oro is relieved of a heavy load. I was
ad afraid I should be kept till.night, and I am
needed .so at home.”
(-‘‘Hive you any sickness!” asked aunt
Hannah, kindly.
‘ iTears'gushed to the poor woman’s eyes as
she answered. “Ah ma’am, i left my baby
most dead this morning; he will be quite so
to-raorroW. I know it, I’ve seen it too many
times, and none but a child of nine years to
tend it. Ob.Lmuat go; andiquickly.” And
grasping the hard earned money which she
hMd'ldileif for while herbabjf was dying, that
when dead ii might have n decent shroud, she
hurried to her home.
’ K fc r llbwect i 'her-—thb"’young wile who
had never known sorrow, and the aged mat
ron whose hair was while with trouble—fol
lowed her to her home; the home of the drun
kard’s wife, the wretched home of the drunk
ard’s babes. She was not too late. The
wee dying boy yet knew his mother, yet
craved a draught from her loving breast.—
Until midnight she pillowed him there, end
then kind hands took from her the breathless
form, shut the bright eyes, straightened the
tiny limbs, bathed the cold clay, and wrap
ped jtboul it the pure white shroud. Yes, and
did more. They gave what the poor so sel
dom have—dote to weep.
“0, aunt,” said Mrs. Merton, with tears in
her eyes, assaying seen the little cofßped
babe borne to its lost home, they returned to
their own happy.-one, “if my heart blesses
you, how much more must poor Susan’s.—
Had it not been for you, she would have been
too late—the baby would not have known hia
mother. ' it has been a sad yel holy lesson.
[ shall always be kind to the poor washer
woman. But, aunt, was the story you told
me a true one —all true I mean!"
“The reality ttf that story whitened my
head when it had been but thirty summers,
and the memory or it has been one of the
keenest sorrows. It is- not strange thar-1
should pity the poor washer woman. Ada*
line and aunr Hannah are one and (he tame.'*
Suppose a flock of fluttering birds were
bduhd with strongrcoTds to a barren rock in
a dark'valleys ' High above (hero towards a
mountain, illumed by the sunbeams, and fra*
grant withlhe perfume of cedars and aro
matic groyes. Now, a being whose counte
nance beams-with celestial benevolence', de
scends from the mountain, and cuts- asunder
the cords that bind them. Presently the freed
birds, with exulting joy, fly aloft, and nestle
among the ovetgreei) branches, and make the
air vocal with their artless melodies. Just
so, Christian friends, Goddeals with you.—
He cuts asunder the ties that bind you to a
sin-darkened world. He removes your dear
est friends and. trial you 1 may pre
pare to follow them to a higher and brighter
sphere, where oil is fragrance,immortality
and glory,—Word.
Sevbn Fools.— l. The Envious man,
who sends away his mutton becausehis neigh
bor'is eating mutton. 1
2. The Jealous man, who spreads his bed
with nettles, end then sleeps in it.
-3. The Proud man, who gets wet thro’ in
b rain, rather ihan ride in the carriage of an
interior. ' ! • * - ‘ • ■
4/' The Litlgious tnan, wfrb goes to law-in
the. hope of ruining his opponent, and gets
ruined himself. ...
, ’s.' The 1 ; Elxrrs.vagdrii man,' Who buys a
herding, and ihenforihwilti .prtceeds lo hire
a -cab to carry it horae. , . ’ •
The Angry tnkp, WWlenrn* Hi
phieclyde, because ho is annoyed, wi
, Tv.- w Ji|e K man,, wlip i
fiate#. |bn, outsutei of bis house .brilli
and sitWiosida in ttypdark/ v
, Lvm.K opjiQctuhiueJordding good sin
lected by many who flre' wai(ij)g/qr an
91911 to perform acts of charity,
Am AMtrtii MrmmMi
K#»» » Fteach ill
over, besidftwiag immensely funny s
ibo
fiwill figurtiof aman.tboperfeci semblance
pfc Mf,-Tbifers The
gal, rdMnwjesti.
CSWfWotte ai», and was sodo-loatilo-'rienr
4nfMf «te dood« laswdWeyttmsiwhto
Thanks lb 6 Strbng'Spd Snoringgale/which
, impelled him" on hM course, I balloon-'
mao'arrivedthe same afternoon in tho ught
of Vfinb country hbuteinthe neighborhood
of BftvrO; It was: near the bourof dinner,
odd the lady pf.'thef mansion; tvhonaturally
thought herself perfeciiy occupied
in the mysteries of hertollet* > -ItvWaa a
warm day, and she bad opened (pnvpfihe
wmdovrs Winch 'looked out , upoOtbe - perk;
ihd was safe from any prying eyes. -While
tranquilly engaged; by the assistance of a
corset lacing* in reducing her want, to a
siteandshape that-would reflect credit on
hot husband’s taste; she waasuddenly start
ed by a -blast of wind, 'followed bysst range -
no«ffi' and, immediately the casement 'van
thfbwfr bpen(tod oorlinle btUoon-man en
tctedher chamber-onauoonoed;•• The ’Mr
ptWs a cry df ahd throws • shawl
over her shoulders. ~The ' little man, drives
t>yr the wind, 1 throws himself oponibe on*
happy woman! who, screaming louder than
ever, pushes 'him off, and he Conceals him*
self, under the bed.
fli ' 5
‘iJ i i
Just as the wife, in' a supplicating Voice,
says to (his noVel Don Jdan: “AMMon
sieur, go away, or you will ruin me!" the
husband furiously rushed in crying; “Ah I
the wretch, I have him now I” and goes in
search of his 'sword to run him through the
body.
The wife, mplre dead than reiterates,
in the midst of sobs: “Ply I fly | Monsieur,
and save me the sight of a dreadful-trag
edy.”
The husband arrives, armed to the teeth,
followed by the whole household, who! seek
to mollify his anger. -
While two of his friends hold the husband,
a third, stooping down, perceives oUr little
friend, who, for good cause, utters not a.word,
and catching him by the* leg, draws ■ him
forth from his concealment, when IoT Moo
sieur Balloon no longer, held down by tha
bedside, raises himself erect, swells -out, and
rises majestically to the ceiling, to tbeim*
mense amusement of the spectators, labile
the poor jealous husband slinks away, award
and all heartily ashamed of his causeless
wrath.
An Illinois Jlndgo.
1 knew one judge, who presided at a court
in which a man named Green was convicted 4
of murder, and it became Jiis duty topro.
nounce sentence of death upon the culprit.—•'
He called the prisoner before him and said to!
him:
“Mr. Green; the jury by their Verdict say
you are guilty of the murder, and the law
says you are to be bung. NoW, fwant you
and all your friepds down on Indian creek
to know that it is not I who condemns you,
but it is'the jury and the law.' Mr, Green,
the law allows you time for preparation, and
so the court wants to "know what time you
want to be bung I”
To this the prisoner replied :
“May it,please the court,lam ready at
any time, those who kill the body have no
power to kill the soul my preparation is
made, and I am ready to suffer at any time
the court may appoint.” •
The judge then said:
Mr. Green, you must know that it is a
very serious matter to be bung; it cannot
happen to a man more than once in bis life,
and you bad belter get all the lime you can
gel; the court will give you until this day
four weeks. Mr. Clerk look at the almanac
and see whether this day four weeks comes
on Sunday.”
The clerk looked at the.almanac, at di
reeled, and reported that, "that dayfpur
weeks came on Thursday.”
The judge then said : '''
Mr. Green, the court gives you this day
four weeks, at which time you arelo bo
hung.” • -
. The ca«e was prosecuted by James Tur
ney Esq,, the Attorney General of the Slate,
who here interposed:
_ “ May it please the court, on sotrinnooca
•ions.liki the.present, when ( the life of a hu
man being js' sentencedjaway; for crime by
an earthly tribunal,it isrhuil Vfid proper for
courts to .pronounce a formal Sentence in
which, the leatJiOgTeafutcs of. thecrifne shall
be brought to the recollection of iba prisoner
and ha be duly , exhorted to repentance, and
warned against the judgment in the- world to
coma I’’ , ,
To which iks judge replied s
“Ob, Mr. Turney, Mr. Green understands
the whole matter as well as tf. I had preach*
ed to him a month!" •He knows he baa got
to be bung this day four weeks* ; Yoq n n .
dersland it In that way, Mr. Green,-don’t
your-.. ~ « ,
“Yes” said the prisoner. • ••
Upon which the judge ordered .him to bo
remanded ;to jail, and the court adjourned.
A lady, of our acquaintance has recently
had a remarkable, experience with a now
Irish girl.
"Biddy i. said she one evening, "we most
have.some sapsages. for tea this evening; {
expect company.”
“y«s,raam.^.
Tea time arrived, with it the company;
(he table was spread, thotea was simmering,
but no sausages appeared. .
, ".Where are tbd sausages, Biddy 1” the
lady inquired.. .. ' \
“And sure they’re in the |ay-pof, mam.—
Oidn’tjyou tell me ,we must have them for
tayl” , i-
A fad,. : .
Or
the
A DEttcAM IpCTraoxroN.—A lady’s heart
is a deficale mslilujioD, and should be treated
fts suieh. some brutal speetment
of corduroy that seem to think the little beat.
loss" a jo)te,;a glove, or
a boot-jardc. Youpg men, if you dont intend
lo take it to nulliper anil parson, just U£
Mis* What’s heart pioM right off,
lw>. ”
iumi»
DCfr
>cca-