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ALLEGHANIAN" DIRECTORY.
CllUiCiail.S, MIXISTKUS, &C.
l'reshyierutn Rev. I). Hahbison', Pastor.
i'reailiiug every Sabbath morning at lOi
: clock, and in the evening at C o'clock. Sab-
1 ith School at 9 o'clock, A. M. Prayer meet
;jr every Thursday evening at 7 o'clock.
ildhodist Episcopal Church. Rev. J. Shane,
Trencher in charge. Rev. Smith, As
sistant. Preaching every Sabbath, alternately
: l1) o'clock in the morning, or 71 in the
treuin. Sabbath School at 9 o'clock, A. M.
I'riyer meeting every Thursday evening at 7
o'clock.
V'tleh Iudprndemt Rev. Lt. R. POWELL,
P.utor. Preaching every Sabbath morning at
! o'clock, and in the evening at t o'clock.
Suhbath School at I o'clock, P. M. Prayer
mroting on the first Monday evening of each
math ; and on every Tuesday, Thursday
nnl Friday evening, excepting the first week
ia each month.
Cilciniitie Methodist Rev. Jon Williams,
I'a.-tor. Preaching every Sabbath evening at
2 au i 6 o'clock. Saiibath School at 10 o'clock,
A. 'd. Prayer meeting every Friday evening
fat 7 o'clock. Society every Tuesday evening
at 7 o'clock.
DuripUt Rev. Wm. Lloyd, Pastor Prcach-
every Sabbath morning at 10 o'clock.
i'rUcuUr Ha fit it! 4 Rev. David. Jexkivs,
l'iitor. Preaching every Sabbath evening at
3 o'clock. Sabbath School at 1 o'clock, P. H.
CVAoUkv. M. J. Mitcuell, Pastor.
S:rricei every Sabbath morning at lOi o'clock
ca J Vciiperii at 4 o'clock in the evening.
EIIC.VSIIUKtt I lILS.
MAILS ARRIVE.
E xtern, daily, at 11 J o'clock, A. M.
"Ue.Lern, "at 11 " P.M.
MAILS CLOSE.
Extern, daily, at 5 o'clock, P. if.
Western, "at 6 J " A. M.
fiaTTheMaiLs from Rutler, Indiana, Strougs
tja, 4c, arrive on Tuesday and Friday of
ea-h week, at 5 o'clock, P. M.
Leave Ebensburg on Mondays and Thurs
days, at 7 o'clock, A. M.
&t The Mails from Newman's Mills, Car
rolltowa, &c, arrive on Monday and Friday of
inch week, at 3 o'clock, P. M.
Leave Ebensburg on Tuesdays and Satur
days, at 7 o'clock, A. M.
tiff Post Office open on Sundays from 9
to lu o'clock, A. M.
u iii.no az sciji:ii i.i:.
VTILMORE STATION.
V. est Express Train, leaves at 9.16 A. M.
'' Mail Train, " 7.48 P. M.
Express Train, " 12. 20 P.
Mail Train, " C.28 A.
' Fast Line, 41 8.02 P.
M.
M.
M.
COUXTY OFFICERS.
Ja lj.s of the Courts. President, Hon. Geo.
T!or, Huntingdon ; Associates, George W.
E:vky, Richard Jones, Jr.
J'ruthoitotary. Joseph M'Douald.
lltyitt. r and Recorder. Michael Hasson.
'irf.Uobert P. Linton.
l'oit;f Sh'rif. George C. K. Znhra.
Strict Attorney. Theophilus L. Heyer.
County C'jtnminnioHtrt. Thomas M'Connell,
John l!.;';m r, Abel Lloyd.
Cl.-rk to Commissioners. George C. K. Zahm.
Counsel to Commissioner. John S. Khey.
TrMvirtr. Georgp J. Rodger.
W ll'ivue Directors. William Talmer,
'vi l O frro, Michael M'Guire.
IIut Treasurer. George C K. Zabm.
l'ir Htnsr Sieintrd. Jaines J. Kaylor.
Utrmutilt Appraiser. Francis Tierney.
AuJttors. Rces J. Lloyd, Daniel Cobaugh,
"nry Hawk.
i-'-tinty Surreor. nenry Scar.lan.
rr,ner. Peter Dougherty.
Superintendent of Common School. S. B.
11 Coruiick.
rRR.siii:RG uoit. orncKns.
7 Jn!irfM f fa react. David II. Roberts,
"'"rison Kinkead.
Iliryrt. John D. Hughes.
Toirm
' "rrish, David Lewis. Richard Jones, Jr., M.
Harr.
I'ttrk to Council. James C. Noon.
"oronyk Treaiurer. George Gurley.
.Vnnttn. Davis & Llovd.
Ifirtdort.ii. C. -M'Cague, A. A.
i-ker, Thoma M. Jones, Reese S. Lloyd,
Jward Glass, William Davis.
Jriurer of School Board. Evan Morgan.
"Wt.Uerge Gurley.
J lulUrtor. (jeorfre Gurley.
r""je of Khction.-''"'-?'.r.lMvi.l
. .vu,uiuU 4. 15.
David J. Jones.
II. Ribcrts, Daniel
0.
EBENSBURG, PA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1859.
ORIGINAL POETRY.
For The Alleghaniau.
Sacred to Mcmor)'.
A leaf, a bud, or withered flower,
A book, or trysting-tree ;
A joy that lasted but an hour
Is dear to Memory.
A book touched by a friend we prize,
A leaf, though dead it be
Both bring each word, and smile, and look,
Back fresh to Memory.
The shroud may wrap the pale dead form ;
The moss may grow above
The grave that hides from our fond, eyes
The beautiful one we love.
Then, then each object they possessed,
However small it be,
We prize, as some great treasure rich,
Sacred to Memory,
However simple be the gift,
However plain and old,
We would not part for ocean penrls,
For gems of costliest gold
With it ; a curl, a lock of hair,
Given by the loved to be
A "something for remembrance kept,
Sacred to-Meniory.
The Orange from the Bunny clime,
The wealth of India's shore,
The blue of Italy's sunny skies,
Can charm the eye no more
Than can the simple offering,
Richer than gems of sea,
Charm, yea, and weave a hallowed spell,
Sacred to Memory.
The dew has dried from off the flower,
The book is worn and old ;
Hut would you give these relics left
For heaps of shining gold ?
The form that gave them sleeps in dust
Beneath the Cypress tree ;
And these are all that's left to U3,
Sacred to Memory.
Others may touch with ruthless hand,
May gaze with careless eye,
Upon each lenf, each bud, each look,
Then toss it idly by.
No saddened thought like music steals
To them, as unto we ;
They cannot prize the simple gift,
Sacred to memory.
But let'iAem see each hope decay,
Each loved face pale and die, &
Then they will learn to love the past ;
Will learn the season why
Some weep while gazing on a flower,
Though smiling others be
Then will they learn like me to love
The Past's sweet Memory.
Jexxie.
S E L 'EC t" ftl ISC E L L aTyT
Poor Tom.
I had been prone some weeks on a jour
ney. Glancing over a newspaper issued
iu my absence, I met a paragraph which
troubled me. It concerned a boy, one
Tom Johnson, put in jail for robbing a
gentleman's garden and barn. His ac
complice cscajnid.
"Tom Johnson ! Is that our Tom ? Of
course not I" Yet I recollected not hav
ing seen him since my return. There
was nobody near to inform me. "Tom,"
I kept saying ; "it can't he our Tom. No,
no." The next morning, the first thing
was to ak for Tom.
"Torn, our poor errand boy ? Haven't
you heard ? The poor fellow is in jail,
and likely to go to prison. His trial
conies on the September term and the
circumstances were rehearsed more at
length than I found them in the paper.
"Poor Tom," I could only say it was a
clear, sunshiny day "Poor Tom, caged
up on such a bright day as this he was
free as a bird, and yet I never thought
him a vicious boy."
I determined to see hiin, and took the
earliest opportunity of visiting him in his
new quarters, and I am sorry to pay it was
the Jirtt visit I ever paid him. Pressing
through the narrow, damp, foul-smelling
gangway that led to his cell, on the back
sideof the building, I felt sad enough.
"A set of young" rascals," said the turn
key ; "pity the whole gang weren't here ;
and Tom Johnson's the ringleader of 'cm."
"Vet I never saw any vicious leanings
in the boy," I said. "Perhaps you don't
know as well as you think for," said the
turnkey. Perhaps I didn't, and so I did
not stop to argue the point. When we
reached the cell, whose door grated on its
hinges as he unlocked, opened, aud let
me in, Tom was lying on his low cot, hi3
head wrapped in the quilt. He started
up, and rubbing his eves, looked pleased
when he saw who had come ; then, a3 if
suddenly recollecting where he was, his
head dropped on his bosom, and he began
to twirl the bedclothes with his fingers
"Why, Tom, my boy, how are you ? I
akcd cheerfully. "S, o," he answered
without looking up. "I did not expect to
find you here, Tom. How did it happen ?
How came you here ?" "Oh, 'cause they
put me in," answered Tom. I motioned
the turnkey to leave us.
"Didn't you know 'twas wicked to steal,
Tom ?" said I, sitting down by his side.
"Yes, sir; but didn't think much about
that part of it." "Didn't you learn the
ten commandments in Sabbath School,
Tom ?" I asked. "Never went to Sabbath
School." "Never went to Sabbath School ?
Why not, Tom ?' "Nobody ever asked
me to go." "Nobody ever asked you
Well, you ought to have gone, of course."
"Didn't 'zactly know how," answered Tom.
"When the Dow boys got their handsome
paper, all pictured, I wished I could go,
but nobody asked me." "Don't you go to
meeting, Tom ?" No, sir." "Why, Tom,
you ought to have gone to meeting, then
you would never have' come to this vile
place." "My clothes weren't fit. The
meetings you go to wouldn't have such
such folks as I be. Good many times I
saw you go in, but was 'f raid to follow ;
they'd turned me out." "You've a moth
er, Tom, haven't you ?" "No, sir ; she's
been dead ever since I trave up sellincr
candy ; had nobody to make it after she
died.
'Any futh
"No sir, he's
been dead always. I live with my
ins' folks ; but thev firht me."
cous-
boy, why did you never tell me all this
before?" "You never asked me' said
Tom, piteously.
When I. first knew Tom, he used to
come to the store with a clean box well
stocked with molasses candy, and his clean
and tidy appearance was a decided recom
mendation to his wares. There was a
frank, prompt, respectful air about the boy
which took my fancy, and he became our
errant boy. He did well for
paid him well for his small
us, and we
ser vises.
J5ut did our accout end
there?
Did dol
lars and eeuts pay all I owed him ! Ah,
I began to be afraid not.
"I don't want to stay here," at length
Tom said, bursting into tears; "it makes
me sick. I feel awfully." "You see
what comes of associating with such a
of fellows, Tom. They led you into evil
courses." "Well, they liked me," said
Tom sobbing, "and I didn't know much
of anybody else since I went to my cous
ins." "But you knew it was wicked,
Tom. "Yes, sir; but it was meant more
in sport than wickedness. We bet who
was spryest". "Tell me how it happened."
Tom told his story, a perfectly straight
forward one, I have no doubt, leaving a
wide margin for those palliations of the
wrong which the civil law cannot always
fully recognize and allow. There was a
pause. "Can't you get me clear, sir?"
asked Tom. "I'll do what I can for you,
my poor fellow." He, squeezed my hand
as I arose to go, and sobbed violently as I
left him.
"The young rogue," said the turnkey,
meeting me in the hall ; "did you make
much headway with him ?" "I don't
know," I said, and quickly- left. How
much I thought of poor Tom all the day
through. Two or three spoke about him,
and the way they spoke pained me ex
ceedingly : "The little scamp," "The
young rascal," and the free use of lan
guage whose harshness and heartlessness
fairly startled me; and yet they were or
dinarily accounted kind-hearted men. But
they were ignorant, as I had been, of the
slate of society from which just such a
class of boys naturally springs an igno
rance, however, which my conscience
Avould not allow me to excuse. "The
poor child," said Conscience ; "you have
helped make him what he is." I twinged.
II what had I done ?
"You left undone. you did nothing"
said Conscience. "You did not pay the
debt of moral obligation which you owed
him. God threw him in your way, a poor
friendless, uncared-for orphan ; and if you
did not know who or what he was, you
ought to have known. What might not
your advice, your instructions, your warn
ings, have saved him from ? What might
not your friendly interest in his sorrows
aud needs have made of him ?"
The next day I went to see Tom again:
I took an orange and a picture-book to
him. "The boy says he is sick," said the
turnkey, "and I really believe he is."
"Well, Tom," I asked, sitting down by
his side, "how are you ?" "So, so," he
answered with a faint smile. I put the
orange in his hand, and laid the little book
on the coverlid. Oh, how I wanted to
talk to Tom about his soul ; but I did not
know where or how to begin. Indeed it
was awkward to begin now a friendly care
for him, neglected all too long; for aught
I knew, neglected till too late. And it
was a bitter thought to me. While Tom
was sucking his orange, I slipped out and
borrowed a Bible of the jail-keeper.--"Don't
you want me to read to you, Tom?"
"What's it about?"- he asked. "You
listen and sec." I turned to the giving
of the law on Mount Sinai, and read the
account. "Big thunderstorm, wasn't it?"
said Tom, after I got through. I talked
about the commandments, but he listened
with very little interest. "Tom, you've
read about Jesus Christ, and Judas who
betrayed his Master ? He was a thief,
and do you know what end he came to ?"
"What ?" he asked. "He killed himself."
"Killed himself? Perhaps he hadn't any
body to care for him." "Yes, he had ;
Jesus Christ cared for him."
Finding ni3'self making small headway
with the poor lad, 1 comforted myself with
the hope of doing better next time. Tom
grew sicker. The jail-keeper moved him
to his own hoitse, and I ordered every
thing to be done for his comfort. But it
was his poor soul which weighed most
heavily upon me. One day when we read
to him the story of the cross, of Jesus
Christ loving him and dying for his sins,
tears ran down his cheeks. Tom's ear
was gained, his heart was touched, and he
listened to the pra3rer put up for him with
serious and heartfelt attention. All ex
hortation, and warning, and instruction,
xhort oj this, had failed of producing any
strong impression upon the poor boy's
conscience ; this, the simple story of a dy
ing Saviour, moved and melted him as I
had never seen him before. Then I felt
hopes for Tom. "lie will be a good man
yet," I said to myself.
" The next day his mind was wandering.
I hasten to the sad end. A few more
days and he was no more, and I followed
him to his grave, his chief mourner.
There is a large class of such boys as
Tom to be kindly cared for. There are
multitudes of boys and girls outside the
church, outside the Sabbath, outside all
reliprious and moral instruction, who may
well say, "Nobody cares for my soul."
Many a promising child is growing up in
ignorance, to be a blot upon society, a
worse than useless citizen, a loxt one, not
withstanding the death of Christ and his
healing, who to all human view might be
saved. Who is responsible ? We must
seek them out, as a man does his lost sheep,
or & woman her piece of silver. This is
our proper Christian work. He are re
prtutilfe. "To whom much is given of
him will much be required."
Labor aud Walt.
Yes, young man, learn to labor. Don't
go idling about, imagining yourself a fine
gentleman, but labor; not with the hands
merely, while the head is doing something
else, (nodding, perhaps,) but with the
whole soul and body, too. No matter what
the work be, if it is worth doing at all, it
is worth doing, well, so put your whole
mind upon it, bend every energy to the
task, and you will accomplish your object.
If you are a clerk with only a small sal
ary, don't be discouraged, work away keep
your eyes open, be strictly honest, live
within your income; labor with your heart
in the cause, patiently wait, and your time
will come. Other clerks have risen to em
inence, why not you?
If a mechanic, stick to your business,
hammer away, let nothing entice yon from
the path of integrity, keep your mind on
your work, persevere in all you undertake,
do your work well, always keep your word,
respect yourself; labor cheerfully; though
small your compensation, " the good time"
is surely coining, you will yet be appre
ciated. Many a mechanic has built the
the ladder by which he has ascended to
high honors. So may you.
If you belong to any of the learned pro
fesions, don't hangoutyour sign, then fold
your hands and go to sleep, expecting to
be roused some day and invited to take the
highest seat in the land. That is no way
to gain distinction, unless it be as a drone;
but keep wide awake, stir about. You
will improve your health by the exercise, if
nothing more. If you have no business
calls to attend to, dive deeper Into -our
books; you can study, if you don't practice,
and be gaining knowledge, if not money,
Keep straight forward in the path where
your feet have been placed; labor with all
your might, mind, and strength, and your
reward is not far distant.
Whatever be your occupation, make no
haste to be rich: if you are long gathering,
you will be more careful about scattering,
and thus stand a better chance of havimg
your old age supported by the industry
anb prudence of your younger days. It is
by drops that the ocean is filled, yet how
vast and deep! The sea-shore is com
posed of single grains of sand, yet how
far it stretches around the mighty waters!
Thus, it is by single efforts and unwear
ied labor that fame and honor are attained.
'Saratooa and .Newport, you've seen them,"
Said Charley, one morning to Joe ;
"Pray tell me the difference between them,
Kor bother my wig if I know !'
Qnoth Joe, :ti3 the easiest matter
Ai once to distinguish the two
At the one. you go into the water ; '
At the other, it goes into you !'' -
General Putnam.
Among the worthiest who figured dur
ing the era of the American Revolution,
perhaps there was none possessing more or
iginality of character than General Put
nam, who was eccentric and fearless, blunt
in his manners the daring soldier with
out the polish of the gentleman. He
might well be called the Marion of the
North, though he disliked disguise, pro
bably from the fact of his lisping, which
was very apt to overthrow any trickery he
might have in view.
At the time a strong-hold called Ilorse
ncck, some miles above New York, was in
possession of the British, Putnam, with a
lew sturdy patriots, was lurking in its vi
cinity, bent on driving them from the
place. Tired of lying in ambush, the
men became impatient and imjortuued the
General with questions as to when they
were going to have a bout with the foe.
One morning he made a speech something
to the following effect, which convinced
them that something was in the wind :
"Fellers You have been idle too long,
and so hare I. I'm goingdownto Bush's,
at llorseneck, in an hour, with an ox team
and a load of corn. If I come back, I'll
let you know all the particulars ; if I
should not, let 'em have it, by thehokey!"
He shortly afterwards mounted his ox
cart, dressed as one of the commonest or
der of Yankee fanners, and was soon at
Bush's tavern, which was in possession of
the British troops. No sooner did the
officers espy him than they began to ques
tion him respecting his whereabouts and
finding hiin, as they thought a complete
simpleton, they began to quiz him and
threatened to siezc his corn and fodder.
"How much do you ask for your whole
concern V they inquired.
"For marcy's sake, gentlemen," replied
the mock clod-hopper, with the most de
plorable look of entreaty, "only let me off
and you shall have my hull team and load
for nothing; and if that won't dew, I'll
give my word I'll return to-morrow and
pay you heartily for your kindness and
condescension."
"Well," said they, "we'll take you at
your word. Leave the team and provender
with us, and we won't require any bail
for your appearance."
Putnam gave up the team and saunter
ed about for an hour or two, gaining all
the information that he wished. He then
returned to his men, and told them
of the disposition of the foe and his plan
of attack.
The morning came, and with it sallied
out the gallant band. The British were
handled with rough hands, and when they
surrendered to Gen. Putnani, the clod
hopper, he sarcastically remarked "Gen
tlemen, I have only kept my word. I
told your I would call and pay you for
your kindness and condescension."
Bu The Rome Sentinel relates that a
three-year-old girl accompanied her father
upon a visit to her grand-parent in the
country, where a blessing is invoked by
the white-haired patriarch before each
meal. The custom was one with which
our little friend had not been made famil
iar at home, and, of course, on the first
occasion she was silent with interest and
curious watchfulness. But when the
family gathered around the board the sec
ond time after the commencement of her
visit, she was prepared for the preliminary
religious ceremony, and observing that
her father did not seem duly conscious of
the approaching solemnity, she called
him to order by sayinr. with stern grav
ity. "Be still, papa grandpapa's going
to talk to his plate pretty soon I
BSF" A city servant girl, in a letter to
the "Old Folks at Home," thus describes
the prevailing fashion of low-necked dres
ses : "As for the lo necs. the loer it is
the more fashunabil yu air, an the les cloz
3Tu ware, the more fashunabil yu air drcst.
Mis Goolra give me a blu silk ov hern and
i cut its nee orf and Suzin Simmons cut
orf hern, and we attrax a grate eal of at
tenshun to our. necs, prominadin' in the
streets lyke nther ladys and holdin up our
cloz. Nobody isnt nothin now which
d us nt hold up her cloz, and the hier yu
holds them the more yu air thot ov."
Csf "Patrick, the widow Molony tells
me that j'ou have stolen one of her finest
pigs. Is that so ?" "Yes, yer honor."
"What have you done with it?" "Killed
it and ate it, yer honor." "Oh ! Patrick
when you are brought face to face with
the widow and her pig, on the judgment
day, what account will you be able to give
of yourself when the widow accuses you
of the theft?" "Did you say the pig
would be there, yer rivirance ?" "To be
sure I did." "Well, thin, yer rivirance,
I'll say, Mrs. Molony, there's your pig."
JfcSuT Copper coin is not a legal tender.
NO. 4.
WIT AND WISDOM
Xteiy Wit is the soul of Wisdom.
W3k- DT the doctors order bark, has not
the patient a right to growl ?
A writer on school discipline says :
Without a liberal use of the rod, it is im-
possible to make boys smart.
E3u The horse's coat is the gift of Na-"
ture, but the tailor very often makes a
coat for an ass.
An Irish lover remarked that it was a
great pleasure to be alone, especially when
you have your sweetheart with you.
Br?VCommentator3 arc folks that too
often write on books as men with dia
monds write on glass, obsenring light
with scrathes. - .
J6S7" Gratitude is thes fairest blossom
which springs from the soul, and the
heart of mau knoweth none more fra
grant. J2f Fashionable circles were never so
numerous as they are now. Almost eve
ry lady that appears in the streets is the
centre of one.
"Woman the lover of union, and the
friend of annexation. Like our country,
her manifest destiny is to spread her
skirts."
JSS To ascertain whether your wife is
jealous, lace up another lady's shoes, and
let her catch you at it ! If that don't
make her round shouldered, nothing will.
12?- A G erman write observes that in
the United States there is juch scarcity
of thieves, they arc obliged to offer a re
ward for their discovery.
5?- A chaplain at a State Prison was
asked by a friend how his parishoners
were. "All under conviction," was the
reply.
B3 You win a woman by appealing to
her impulses ; you win a man by appeal
ing to his interests. It is all the differ
ence between a compliment and a bribe.
B A newspaper, desirous of paying a
compliment to a minister who lately of
ficiated in one of the fashionable chapels,
says, his prayers were the best ever ad
dressed to an audience.
ZSaFA dancing-master was taken up
in Natchez recently for robbing a fellow
boarder. He said he commenced by cheat
ing a printer, and that after that every
thing rascally seemed to come easy to him.
r-i? The progress of knowledge is slow.
Like the sun, we cannot perceive it mo
ving ; but, after a while, we perceive that
it has moved nay, that it has moved
onward. ,
$3? It . is a beautiful custom in some
Oriental countries, to leave uutouched the
fruits that are shaken from the trees by
the wind ; these being regarded as sacred
to the poor and the stranger.
BB, One day J crrold was asking about
the talent of a young painter, when his
companion declared that the youth was
mediocre. "The very worst ochre he can
set to work with," was the quiet reply.
3?- "Father," said a cobbler's lad, as
he was pegging away at an old shoe, "they
say that trout bite
good
now.
'Well,
well, replied the old gentleman, "you
stick to your work and they won't bite
youl"
BQ? If men judged their neighbors by
themselves, they would imagine there were
more fiends on earth than in Tartarus ;
but, as they judge themselves by their
neighbors, they think there are more an
gels on earth than in heaven'.' ' -
CST A stranger meeting an editor in
the street at Boston, a few days since,
roughly accosted him with, "Here, I want
to go to the Tremont House !" The de
liberate reply was, "Well, you can go, if
won't be gone long I"
B."What shall we name our little
boy ?" said a young wife to her husband.
"Call him Peter." "Oh. no! I never
knew anybody named Fetcr that could
earn his salt." "Well, then, call him
Saltpetre."
Bg.A clergyman who was reading to
his congregation a chapter in Genesis,
found the last sentence to be: "And the
Lord gave unto Adam a wife." Turning
over two leaves together, he found writ
ten and read : "And she was pitched
without and within." Ho had unhappily
got into a description of Noah's Ark.
3y The Springfield American says :
44 A youug domestic in a family in tho
city complained a few nights since of hav
ing sprained her ancle, and said the in
jury had struck to her stomach. Later
in the evening the appearance of two lit
tle ancles solved the mystery, to the aston
ished gaze of tha family with whom she
lived." . " :
IF-