...9 , . D . _ ~.: 2 MIIIIIIII E . '..-...'....,.',.• , ......-: . ....,,.. . ~....... .. , T ~,.. . ~.. ~, .....• ~. : . :......,...,:_:......., ~,,.....,,,_,.. , A.1.....,H, ~ ~ ..,..,... H . . ..n.... . .. . .• .. ~ • ~...., .„ .. ...... , ~. .. . ._..,•:.4,.. .....,.„. „..,..,,,;„.,......,,,,„:, ... 2'.34 antleZCntrt 2t2t 11341134111117 Wax 221' ang1335212G VOLUME X. GRACE WARNER, THE RAH MAWS WWI:, IIY HARRIS I'ItESCOTT CHAPTER I " I can never love him, mother, not even re• I spect him," said Grace Warner, a fair maiden of eighteen summers. " But, why not, child ?" asked Mrs. Warner. " He is too old to love, too meam to respect : " " He is not very old." " Old enough to be my father." " He is not over forty, if he is that." " That is too old altogether lin• a girl of eighteen : but if he were only twenty, I Could not love him." "It is all a whim, Grace." •' Call it what you please, mother. Ido not even respect him." " That is a foolish prejudice." " He has the reputation of being the mean est man in town." " It is a false report, you may depend upon it." " Ilis meanness is the only reason why he not married before." You wrong him, Grace." And now that he has got old enough to need a nurse, he is going to marry to provide one." "You are too bad, child. All these reports aro mere malicious slanders. Have you no confidence in the judgMent of your father and mother ?" IE9 Yes, mother, but even if there were noth ing against Mr. Dightbn, 1 could not willingly become his wife." " Why not ?" You know the reason, mother," replied Grace, with a slight blush. " What ?" I love another." Pooh ! i thought you had got over that." No, indeed, mother." " But you are not engaged ?" ' " No, but I ldve James Henderson, anti I am sore it would make him eery sad to know that I had falsified my words." " lie will soon get over it." " But I should not." " Yes, you would. Mr. Dighton, you know, is very rich. lie lives in a great house, and you would be a queen." " They say he starves, the poor woman who' keeps house for him." " It is false ; and then you would he so hap py, and have everything you want—" " Except James Henderson." '" James Henderson again ! What is he ?—; A poor journeyman carpenter, and likely to re main so all the days of his life. No, child, don't have anything to do with him. Never see him again." " Nay, mother, he is an enterprising young man, and in five years he will be in good eir- cutnstances." •• One bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.' If you consult the wishes of your pa rents, Grace, you will accept Mr..Dightou's offer." " I cannot. mother.. I do not love him." " You will love him after a while. Not half of the folks love One another when they arc married." " Then they ought not to be married." " But they soon learn to love one another.— I am sure, I almost hated your father when let were married." Poor Grace was not saucy enough to say what her observation had taught her was true, that they did not agree any too well now. " Now;Gmce, in one word, if you marry Mr. Dighton you will be happy : if you marry James Henderson- you will be miserable. Think well of it. I never can consent to your wedding Henderson. It would be like permit ing you to sacrifice yourself." Mrs. Warner made a very long speech, and used a great many very specious arguments— the same arguments which had been used a hundred times before, and . will be used a hun dred times again. Everything that could be said to torture the poor girl into compliance waq.ssid, and the result was that she finally ›Prelded. It was, a sad day for her when she severed the tie that bound her to her lover—a bitter day ; and all the consolation she could derive from the act, was that it was in obedience to the wishes of her parents. She Made a great sacrifice, but it was made in the spirit of filial obedience. In duo time she was married to Mr. Dighton —a man twice her ago, and whose sympathies, feelings and aims were as entirely different from hers as light is from darkness. He was rich—rich in the goods that perish, in the dross of earth, but not in that wealth which makes a ixuktt—and the parents of Grace, flattered by the ptospect of so brilliant au alliance, had used extraordinary means to bring it about.— They succeeded, with what results let the se• quel show; though our 'feeble pen can only out- PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY HAINES & DIEFENDERFER AT ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS PER ANNUM. lino the clouds which the reader's imagination must fill up with the direst black. My space does not permit mo to narrate all that poor Grace suffered as the wifeof Mr. Dighton. For a time ho was kind alinclul gent to her—at, least till the lioneytn n had passed, and the novelty of his situation liad in some measure worn off. Then he began to exhibit his true character, and it was very much as Grace had predicted it in the interview with her mother which I have given the reader. He was not only harsh, unjust and unkind, but ho was little, mean, and contemptible. Even the promised joys of wealth were denied her. Her labors could not have been more_ severe in the home of a jour neyman mechanic, and she found it very diffi cult to squeeze out of him money enough to furnish her with the necessary articles of cloth ing, to say nothing of luxuries. Thus she lived for some six years. Two children were added to their household; and Mr. Dighton had grown meaner and meaner every day he lived. To Grace, life was little more than a strug gle to obtain decent food and raiment for her self and children. But she was a patient woman, and though disappointment and sorrow had worn deeply into . her heart, she had en dured all with fortitude. But things had come to such a pass that pa tience was no longer a virtue. She could not, she felt, longer bear up against the woes of her situation. If she had loved her husband, and necessity had doomed her to suffer, she could have sustained it without a murmur. '• Mother," said she, one evening, when she was spending an hour at home, it no longer." "Why, what's the matter, Grace ?" asked her mother, alarmed by the air of despondency that her daughter wore. I cannot even get enough to cat." " Why, Grace !" " It is true." " Why don't you make him provide what you want?" • Italic him ! I cannot !" " Yes, you can. Spunk up." " I have said all I can gay." " But you are too gentle with him. Why don't you make the house too hot to hold him ?" " I can't do that, mother." " Yes, you can." "We have not seen a piece of meat for a week. and as for clothing, I can't get a dollar out of him." ' You are too tame. You haven't got spunk &hough." " I am afraid of him." " It is his policy to keep you afraid of him." Grace thought for a moment, and new light broke in upon her. Her mother was right, and yet, if she played the virago, her life would be even more miserable than it had been. " Where does he keep his money? Why don't you help yourself and provide for the family ?" That was a good thought•. The money was in his drawer, and she began to derive new strength from these suggestions, pernicious as they were, or would have been under any other circumstances. It was quite dark, and as she was about to go, her brother, a stout fellow of twenty, en tered the room with a cowhide in his hand; and proposed to accompany her home, and they left the house together. . Grace had no idea that her brother had over , heard her conversation with her mother, Or she might have had some suspicions as to the pur• pose to which the cowhide was to be applied.' But as her father was a farmer, and Henry had just driven his team into the yard, she paid no attention to it. They were passing through a dark lane, deeply shaded by willows, when they encoun tered Mr. Dighton. " So, Mrs. Dighton," said he, roughly, " you are coming home at last !" " She is, you d—d infernal, sneaking whelp!" said Hefiry Warner, as he grasped Dighton by the collar. " What do you mean, you villain ?!! said the wretch, striving to shake off the grasp of the sturdy youth. " Half starve my sister, you—" we will not write the strong epithets he used. " She didn't tell me, but I found it out, and now I'm going to give you some. Run along, Grace." " Let go my collar, you scoundrel !" roared pightpn. " I'll teach you to abuse my sister !" and the stout fellow commenced lashing the rich and respectable (?) Mr. Dighton till he called for mercy. But Henry heeded not his cries, and laid on the cowhide till ho was fairly exhausted. " Now, you contemptible villain; you may go. Hell is not hot enough for you, and I mean to warm you up q little before you get there.— Tf you abuse her again, I will repeat the oper ation." CHAPTER II " I can endure Allentown, Pa., March 12, 1856. Dighton dragged himself home, but he could not leave his room for a week. His rage knew no bounds. He threatened the youth with all the terrors of the law, but Henry gave him to understand that he would flog him again if he prosecuted, and repeat the dose as often as he misbehaved himself. Men like Dighton are always cowards, and Henry escaped, and pub lic opinions justified his act. CHAPTER HI Grace, through the good results of the coW hiding, and by her own energy, soon obtained the upperhand in the house but if possible she was more unhappy than before. She loath ed her husband, and his very presence was hateful to her. Cowardly. mean, and contemptible to the last degree, she could scarcely endure the sight of him, or even to remain beneath his roof. However much sho respected and loved her mother, sho felt that she had done wrong in persuading her to marry Dighton. She real ized that it was her duty to have disobeyed her parents, when they refused to permit her union with Henderson—at least to have diso beyed their command to marry Dighton. It would have insured her happiness, as she only could judge whom she loved as a•wife should love a husband. To make her sad situation the moro appar ent, James Henderson had just returned from California, whither he had gone at the time she had discarded him, with a fortune in his pos session. He had called upon her, and the ' old flame' had been rekindled, if, indeed, it had ever been extinguished. Dighton was furious at this in trusion, and exhibited his character in a very clear light, by ordering him to leave the house. Don't go, Mr. Henderson," said Grace, promptly. "By Heaven ! Am Ito be snubbed in my own house ?" continued the indignant wretch. " Leaye my house, or I will kick you out !" "iMy visit relates to this lady," replied Hen derson, more disposed to laugh than to run. " I know it, and that lady is my wife. You have no business to visit her." " The lady must decide that fur herself; in the meantime I will not be insulted myself nor permit her to be." " We will sec," said Dighton, as he rushed out of the room to seek assistance, fur he never could do anything alone. The tears came into the eyes of Grace, as she gazed at her former lover. The contrast between her present situation and that which her fancy pictured if ho had been her husband, overwhelmed her with grief and disappoint ment. " You are very sad, Grace," said he, tender ly. "I am sorry for you." " He is a monster !" sobbed she "Why do you live with him ?" " I would not, if it were not fur my child- ren." "It really makes me sad to see you in this situation." James llenderson was a man of quick sensi bilities, and he felt all that he said. They con versed together for half an hour, and then he took his departure. The visit was repeated several times, till at last Mrs. Warner hinted to her daughter that it was not proper for a married lady to see - an old flame' so often. " People will talk about you," she added. " Let them talk. I have been talked about enough not to mind it." " But it is improper'for you to do so." " Mother, I have suffered so much, that I don't care much what I do." What a rebuke to a managing mother ? About a week after Mr. Dighton missed his wife and two children. They could not be found in the village ! It also appeared that James Henderson had departed that day on his return to California. It was a plain case ;—ho had eloped with Mrs. Dighton ! She had taken her children with her, and a subsequent examination into the affairs assured the husband and the mother that the elopement had been contrived several days before, for Grace had carried off her own and her children's wardrobes. They soon obtained intelligenco from New York that the guilty parties had departed in the steamer for California. Dighton raved and swore for a few days, and Mrs. Warner wept. By this time she had be gun to see that she had done wrong in counsel ing Grace to marry a man she did not love. Our story is a very simple one. We wish distinetly to declare that we do not approve of elopements—that nothing can justify a criminal elopement. And yet we find a great deal in Mrs. Dighton's case to extenuate her conduct. As for Henderson, though he still loved Grace, probably the idea of running away with her would not have occurred to . him, if he had not .commisserated her sad situation. They had lived in California but a year, when the news of Dighton's death reached them. Immediately returning home, they were mar ried, and public opinion to far forgave them that Henderson was appointed the guardian of his wife's two children, and he was in reality a kind and good father to them. .Such marriages are seldom happy, but this was, and the parties still continued devotedly attached to each other. A NEW SONG. " Jeannie Marsh of cherry Valley." WORDS BY 0. P. MORRIS, MUSIC By 1110.11.1.9 BAKER Jeannie Marsh of Cherry Valley, At whose call the muses rally; Of all the nine none so divine As Jeannie Marsh of Cherry Valley. She minds mo of her native scenes, Where she was born among the cherries; Of peaches, plums mid nectarines, Pears, apricots and ripe strawberries ! Jeannie Marsh of Cherry Valley. Jeannie Marsh of Cherry Valley, In whose name the amen rally ; Of all the nine none sordivino As Jeannie Marsh of Cherry Valley. A silvan nymph with queenly grace, Au angel she in every feature ; The sweet expression of the place, A dimple in tho smile of nature! Jeannie Marsh of Cherry Valley FLING AWAY THE RAZOR. Each hair is furnished with a distinct gland, elaborately and beautifully complete: Under the facial are innumerable nerves, immediately connected with various organs of the senses, ramifying in every directiou, and performing Most important functions. This hair, when in full growth, forms a natural protector to the nerves and also holds, as it were, in suspension a quantity of warm air, through which the cold Or, in breathing passes, and becoming rarified or tempered, enters the lungs without giving to their delicate texture that severe shock which arises from the sudden admission of cold, so of ten the fore-runner of fatal disorders. Any one putting his fingers udder the hair of his head will there feel warm air. The hair also wards off east winds, and prolific sources of toothache and other pains, and so tends to preserve these useful and ornamental appendages, the teeth. It is said that an intimate connection exists between the moustache and the nerves of the eye, and that many diseases of the eye are trac able to shaving. Who has not felt his eyes smart under the application of a dull razor ? May not shaving, by depriving the lungs of the male of their natural protection, and by ex posing them to the uninterrupted action of cold air, tend to weaken the chest and that weak-. ness being transmitted in an increasing pro portion from generation to generation, at length inducing consumption and consumptive tenden. cy ? Persons who wear their hair under their chins, do not, except in rare cases, suffer from sore throats, There is in the crypt of Hyde Church a vast pile of bones, which were gathered many years after a battle fought upon the sea-shore, be tween the Danes and Saxons, about one thou sand years since ; and among them the skulls of aged warriors, finely developed, the teeth in many of which are so perfect, so beautifully sound, and firmly imbedded in their sockets, that you cannot move them. The owners of these teeth wore beards ; and the writer re members witnessing, several years ago, some excavations on the site of the old priory at Spalding, when many stone cpfilns were dug out, whose inmates-had, almost without excep tion, sound, entire, and elegant sets of teeth. Did not. beards grow on their chins ? Shaving occupies on an average, fifteen min utes. A man who shaves every morning for 50 years, thus employs in that time upwards of 380 days, of 12 hours each. Is this a profita ble application of our fleeting moments ? The face exposed to a microscope immediate ly after shaving presents a most unsightly ap pearance, the stumps assuming the forms of marrow bones sawn transversely. Did not the teachers of the faculty approve of moustaches—and aro they not of opinion that they play a most important part in the animal economy? Is it not probable, that by unduly stimulating the growth of the hair by shaving, we draw too largely on, and so cause an unnatural action of the nerves, producing an injurious effect, no matter how slight; on the brain ? Did not patriarchs and sages ' of old wear beards, and were they not remarkable for lon gevity, as well as for being exceedingly fine looking fellows ? Is not shaving a boreand does not a man, while undergoing the operation,.look extremely ridiculous ? And if it is right to rasp the chin, why not the eyebrows and the head also ? Does it not appear foolish to shave on a cold morning that which nature has provided to protect us against the cold ? Do we not despise and hold too cheaply a beneficent arrangement, and infringe a natural law, when we cut off what Providence, says so plainly shall grow?' for the more a man shaves the more the hair grows, even to the hour of his death.? The head shall become bald, but the face never ! In conclusion, when man was created he had given him a beard, and who will dare say tha it was not a good gift I Turn to the first chap ter of Genesis, and you will find that God sti. everything that he had made, and behold it wa • very good !—London News. Siberian Sledge Dogs The - se dogs are said to resemble the wolf, t have long pointed, projecting noses, sharp an , upright ears, and long bushy tails : color v ' rious—black, brown, reddish brown, white an. spotted. They vary also in size, but a goo, sledge dog should not be less than two feet seve. inches high. Their howling is that .of a wol In the summer they dig holes in the ground fo coolness, or lie in the water to escape the mos quitoes, which in those regions are not les troublesome than one of Fharoah's plagues. winter they burrow in the snow and lie curie. up with their nose, covered by their bushy tails The preparation of these animalsf or a journey is carefully to be attended to. For a fortnight at least, they should be put on short allowance of hard food, to convert their superfluous fat in to firm flesh. They me also to be driven from ten to twenty miles daily , after which, Von Wrangel says, they have been known to travel a hundred miles a day without being injured by it. " We drove ours," sometimes at the rate of one hundred wrests (sixty-six miles) a day. Their usual food is fresh fish, thawed and cut in pieces ; and ten frozen herrings are said to be a proper daily allowance for each dog. A team consists commonly of twelve dogs ; and it is of importance that they should be accus tomed to draw together. The foremost sledge has usually an additional dog, which has been trained as a leader.—On the sagacity and do cility of this leader depend the quick and steady going of the team, as well as the safety of the traveller." A Chil3ll Prayor I=2 Sweeter than'tho songs of thrushes, When the winds are low; Brighter than the spring -time blushes, Reddoning out of snow, Were voice and cheek so fair Of the little child at prayer. Lilco a white lamb of the 'meadow, Climbing through the light; Like a priestess in the shadow Of the temple bright, Seemed she, saying, " holy Our, Thine, and not my will be done." Which Is the Weaker Scx t A question of some significance is asked by a writer in the Pictorial Times, viz : ' which is the weaker sex ?' The question is answered by the same writer as follows : Females:are called the weaker sex but why ? If they are not strong who is ?—When men wrap themselves in thick garments, and incase the whole in a stout overcoat to shut out the cold, woman in thin silk dresses with neck and shoulders bare, or nearly so, say they are perfectly comfortable ! When men wear water proof boots over woollen hose and incase the whole in India-rubber; to keep them from freez ing, women wear thin silk hose, and cloth shoes, and pretend not to feel the cold. When men cover their heads with furs and then com plain of the severity of the weather, women hang an apology for a bonnet at the back of their heads; and ride or walk about in north east winds and profess not to suffer at all !' THE SEXES. There is a natural difference between the sex es, not in the number, but in the degrees of the primitive powCrs of the mind. Some are strong er in the female, others stronger in the male. The girl loves a doll, the boy wants a hammer --showing, in infancy, that they are destined or different occupations in society. Each sex should be cultivated, and employed in those pursuits for which nature has evidently fitted them. The claim to justice and merit is equal —their duties only differ. (r) -We are indebted to Mrs. Caudle for the following lines : Men broody drink and never think That girls at all can tell it; They don't suppose a woman's nose Was over made to smell it. Disadvantages of a Homely IVlce. You can't get along in this world with a homely wife. She'll spend halt her time in looking in the glass, and turn and twist, and brush and fix, till she gets completely vexed with her own ugliness, and then she'll go right off and spank the baby. She'll never be pleased with herself, and that's the reason why she'll be always fretting or scolding at somebody or other girls in the neighborhood. And then she must have so many finger rings, ear jewels, flounces and ostrich feathers —so much all-fired expensive, flaring toggelY, to make her look any ways nice at all, no rea sonable man can stand it. AUMBER 24. HOW MANY HOURS enter the house of a weaver who is making cloth and you say he is a valuable man ; visit the blacksmith's shop, where you find him making pickaxes, hammers and plowshares, and you say this man is essential; ynu salute these skillful laborers. You enter the house of a shoolinaster, salute him more profoundly. Da you know what ho is doing ? llc is manufac turing minds. A C)thl) itULE A man who is very rich now was very poor when he was a boy. When asked how he got his riches, he replied :—" My father taught mo never to play till my work was finished, and never to spend my money until I had earned it. If I had but one. hour's work in a day, I must do that the first tiling, and in an hou•— and after this I was allowed to play ; and I then could play with much more pleasure than if I had the thought of an unfinished task before my mind. I early formed the habit of doing everything in time, and it soon became per fectly easy to do so. It is to this I owe my prosperity." Let every boy who reads this go and do likewise. LABOR-SAVING SOAP.—Take two pounds of sal-soda, two pounds of yellow bar soap, and ten quarts of water. Cut the soap in thin slices, and boil together two hours ; strain and it will be fit fur use. Put the clothes to soak the night before you wash, and to every pail of water in which you boil them, add a pound of this soap. They will need no rubbing ; merely rinse them out, and they will be perfectly clean and white. To PREVENT On. LAMPS FROM Take any quantity of onions, bruise them, put all into a retort, and distil ; pour a little of this liquor into the bottom of tlic lamp, and it will give no smoke. • tiO 60.15. I:llndustry.—Lovd labor—if you do not want it for food, you may fur physic. Ir.7Wheir a young lady grows quite impa tient, is she stouter or taller ? Oa•llappiness can be made quite as well of cheap material as dear ones. [a• Pleasure is a rose, near which there ever grows the thorn of evil. 0:7 - Why is a Shanghai chicken like a dirty housemaid ? Because one is a domestii: fowl, and the other is a foul domestic. [J . • I really can't express my thanks," as• the boy said to a schoolmaster when he gave hilia a thrashing. is said that American ladies flirt more than any other nation, and yet make the truest and best wives in the world. 1 - If you see a gentleman with his arms around the waist of a young lady, it is morally certain that they are not married. U 7 The Spaniards say "at eighteen marry your daughter to her superior, at twenty to her equal, at thirty to anybody who will have her." • We'll gayly chase all tare away, And tmid' every aorrow; Subscribers, pay your• debt; to-day, And we'll pay ours W.-morrow." 10 - liarly marriages, are apt to engender grey hairs, plenty of children, round shoulders, rheumatism, and thin looking wives. Young folks, look out for these and sundry other squalls. • COIMCDRUM FOR sunscnlngits IT= I' Y• UD OU 0 I A P WE FO W ONS RYO UR lUO YE I' APE W O I T RP A BED YU EII [l:7 - When was it in the early ages man led-a life of innocence and simplicity." When was this period of innocence ? The first man who was horn into thu world killed the second: When did the time of simplicity begin ? lIMEEMI
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