Iiiiifei
B. F". SCHWEIER,
THE CONSTITUTION THE UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS.
Editor and Proprietor
VOL. XXVIII.
MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., JUNE 3, 1S74.
NO. 22.
Poetry.
rlBEPA ROSA.
BI EDWiKD EIXO.
0 spirit, duwmbodied though thoa art,
1 cling to thee, and cannot let thee go !
XUy voice rings through the chambers of my
h"art;
Its subtle mnsic echoes all my woe.
It perfect passion, its consummate pain.
Its dreamy rapture and its lofty range
Thrill with a sorrow-laden joy my brain.
Ah, sweet dead singer ! it in aad and strange
To lose with thee the harmony of life;
Why could not gentle Death deign to foresee
That all our souht would be with discord rife
If in bis round he placed his band on thee ?
E'en he shall learn the silences to hate,
Aud half regret he sealed thy sudden fate
i'an will not rise to tune his reed again :
Fair Aphrodite, with her foam-lipped shell,
Will spring no more from bosom of the main.
Her mad, melodious tale of love to tell;
The light that shone from great Apollo's brow
Is dulled beneath the shade of centuries;
The harp of David is neglected now.
And Orpheus into black oblivion flees;
The song of Sappho is remembered not;
The world forgets the glorious Malibran;
Vet. spirit, may thy voice escape the lot
That gives to brightest fame so brief a spaa;
Since its trausceudeut purity may claim
For thy lost presence an etornal name.
1 jke to that splendid Swede who swayed the
souls
Of priuce and peasant, did st thou live and
sing;
So long as Time's firm hand the years outrolls.
The memories of ye twain shall bloom in
spring.
The nightingale your melodies shall chant.
For she alone of all the birds can know
How near ye were to nature; her romannt
Outlives the ages' solemn ebb and flow.
And if some eve the birdling sweeter cries
Than e'er before transfigured by her pains;
If cKiaer home to Heaven her carol flies.
And catches music from celestial strains;
Then shall she make thy notes her noblest
choice
O stainless lady of the matchless voice !
Scrffirter's MottihZ .
I i is c e 1 1 ii ii y .
Those Dear Little Feet.
A well-posted fashion writer ob
serves :
Among the many reforms for which
women have come to be grateful, the
biioe reform is one of the beet. Fine
weather is always given as an explana
tion of streets thronged with women,
but in view of this spring's capricious
atmospheres, that reason surely fails.
It must be the prevailing shoe, broad
soled, sauare-beeled and freer than
suffrage, that has driven forth the fem
inine jiedestrian, for certainly a cover
ing for the foot as "easy" as that of the
present walking-shoe has not been
worn in a long time. Shoes of all kinds
are notably plain; even fancy stitchings
are out of favor, and neatness, only, is
imperative, provided the shoe is excel
lent in tit.
Buttoned boots, made of soft, lustre
less French kid, are the kind preferred,
heavy shoes of pebble goat being ad
ded to wardroles now in preparation
for the country. For sensitive feet,
easily wearied by walking, uppers of
French satin have foxings of kid, only
high enough to give strength and pro
tect the feet from dampness.
For carriage wear, there are dainty
lioots of French satin, which lace up on
the instep, and add a quilling of nar
row black lace entirely around both
eyelet rows. Such shoes, made of the
same material as the dress, are pro
vided with elegant dinner and recep
tion costumes, while others of black
satin with lace-trimmed lappcls upon
the instep are preferred by some for
the same purpose.
For traveling, kid-buttoned boots are
first in favor, but many ladies are or
dering boots of heavy gray and flax
colored linen to serve in dry, hot
weather.
Slinners of linen.cornbuff andbrown.
are being chosen for "negligee"' toilets
in the country, anu inese ininmeu mm
rosettes of black, and bright steel
buckles, are both suitable and pretty of
themselves.
MaHa A ii tinft re slippers, croauet
and garden shoes, and Pompadour
shoes of scarlet or blue kid are among
the fancy provisions of the shoe-shops
No more buff or grav kid shoes are
worn by little girls, black being firmly
settled as the favorite color, or rather
no color. Wee things in their first
short dresses, and bairns just trying in
deiiendent locomotion, wear dainty
buttoned shoes of pink, scarlet or blue,
without heels, and fasU-ned with pearl
buttons.
I .over' Proverb.
Love knows hidden paths.
T.nva makm labor light.
Love makes time pass, away, and
time makes love pass away.
Love me little, love me long.
Ami tnoi vn peu, mai continue
Love me little, bat keep it up.
Love one that does not love yon, an
swer one that does not call you, and you
will run a fruitless race.
Love others well, but love thyself the
most ; give good for good, but not to
thine own cost.
Love rules his kingdom without a
sword.
Love subdues everything except the
felon s heart.
Love teaches asses to dance.
Love, knavery and necessity make
men good orators.
Love, thieves and fear make ghosts.
Love, without return, is like a ques
tion without an answer.
Tv -wnnr fnon.l with llis faults.
Love your neighbor, but don't pull
down the fence.
Lovers' purses are tied with cobwebs.
Lovers' quarrels are love redoubled.
Lovers think others have no eyes.
fnnl to love.
Lover-merchandise is jealousy and
broken faith. ...
Lover-plant must be watered with
tears and ended with care.
Loving and singing are not do be
lorced.
.t, l nnMA slock Bedlam.
Love,being jealous,makes a good-bye
look a squint. . ,
Love comes in at the window and
trrmm -n f at t riA irtrtr.
VlW Mv wvw
Love does much, but money does
more. .
Love is a sweet tyranny, because the
lover endnreth histonnens wiumgiv.
Love is the touchstone of virtue.
Tva im thn loadstone of love.
Love is without prudence, and anger
withnnfc AinnaAla-
Sweetheart and honey-bird keep no
house.
Love will creep when it cannot go.
Wedlock is a padlock.
A Cincinnati seamstress uses a gray
squirrel as a motive power for running
her machine, and well he does his work,
not only sewing straight seams, but
aemming and garnering ruuw
as could be done by human bands.
THE DARKCXOCD.
"WbPM ftM An Mini, T:.n- tt -
------ J - P,"'(S, -"mum I asas
Mrs. Hoadley of her beautiful, gold
haired and fnwh-fawl iiin.M
enters the room dressed for an out door
waiK.
"I promise.! t UV. . 41
- " " " Mlt9
shore with Mr. Shelton this afternoon,"
Diana lightly responds, as though the
whole matter were quite indifferent to
her.
Mrs. Hoadlev'a nala
- - J x , " HU
dens. "You are goinr to walk with
Walter Shelton Tlin. T
told me vestenlaw that tJ..
going to walk with Norman Pomeroy."
uusnes siignuy and gives her
head a little toss, while she stands at
the window and lnnka fisim ft,;. .wto...
across the great sweep of lawn to the
mammow noiei, and thence onward to
the white rimmed beauty of the flashing
lieallv. mamma vnnn in rrtant
nonpareil of memories. But if you
must have facta. I uv II, Pnmam.
last night, and"
"Broke to mnrrnw'a animnamant T
suppose, because Walter Shelton had
asked you to do so," Mrs. Hoadley's
placid voice here interrupts, with sor
rowful intonation. "Ah, Diana, how
easy it is to guess the truth ?"
"Upon my word, mamma," pouts the
daughter, "I see no special reason why
yon should make such a vry great
mountain Out of Such a VPrv small mnla.
hilL"
'ITow can von Rnoat in " Hi, firm-
toned- nerionn.voitfvul inavar 'Ksnt
as important a matter as Normon Pome-
1 1 . 1 1 . . .
ruy s wuoio tuiure nappiness r And Dy
showing this marked preference for
Walter Shelton all rf a an1lon ,nn
are certainly helping to make that h'appi-
ucu m cuuipiew) ruiu, iians.
Another toss of the young lady's head.
'Perhana T am rmn ty Knt than tTiA twA
men are so thoroughly different."
"Indeed thpv are. different " mnrmnra
Mrs. Hoadley, meaningly.
"Yon ftan't vtonftiVtlv wn Ka tiintintr
mamma, that Norman Pomeroy is in
any way superior to Mr. Shelton I"
"I undoubtedly mean that he is
eclipsed by Walter Shelton in only a
single way."
And that 7"
"Is outward style, manner, grace of
carnage, 4c Apart from such superi
ority, Diana, none other exists. Walter
Shelton cannot be compared with a
man of Norman Pomeroy's sterling,
sound principles'"
"Ob, dearl" exclaims Diana, petu
lantly. "I wonder why it is, in this
world, that whenever a person is par
ticularly 'slow' and stupid he is sure to
be called 'sound' and 'sterling' and
other highly moral names. Well,
mamma, dear, I'm sorry I can't prolong
this highly interesting discussion ; but
here comes Mr. Shelton now to take me
walking." And Diana hurries away
from the window, approaching the
door. Just as she reaches the threshold
of the chamber her bright face takes an
arch, saucy look whilst she addresses
her mother in these laughingly spoken
words :
"If I meet Norman, mamma. 111 tell
him that you're getting up a subscrip
tion toward having him puDliciy canon
ized. Au revoir."
Not long afterward Mrs. Hoadley
stands at the window and watches her
daughter stroll leisurely seaward at
Walter Shelton 's side. He is a man of
more than medium height, handsome,
distinguished, graceful in every way.
But as she gazes upon this couple wnicn,
she cannot fail to tell herself, are physi
cally a perfect match one with the other
she signs nevenneiess, ana wiw m
heaviness that plainly shows how the
sight troubles her.
"And yet, after all," she muses aloud
to herself, "I do not believe that Diana
is anything more than dazzled by this
Walter Shelton's mere surface attrac
tions. She does not love the man. No ;
Norman Pomeroy, her old playmate,
her life long friend, has her heart still.
Only Diana sees that here, among these
hotel fashionables, Norman's grave,
quiet manner is of little account, while
Walter Shelton is a courted beau. And
yet perhaps I am wrong ; perhaps
her heart has really become alienated
from Norman ! Ah, bow I hate to think
that thought !"
It is almost dusk when Diana returns
from her walk, with flushed cheeks and
a rather excited pair of eyes. There is
to be a "hop" at the hotel this evening,
and Walter Shelton, who is to lead the
German, has asked her to danoe with
him. This Diana cannot but feel to be
a signal honor. There are at least
twenty girls whom she knows who will
deeply envy her such a marked triumph.
Her beauty, her youth (for she is only
eighteen and just emerging into society)
and the prominent position which her
partnership with the leader gives, all
oontribnted toward making Diana's time
at the "hop" that evening a most emi
nently enjoyable one. She is surrounded
by several gentlemen, and is talking
animatedly first with one and then
another, when Norman Pomeroy joins
the group and asks her for a dance.
We can only say of Diana that her
silly young head is turned by flattery
and success. Jast for the time Norman
Pomeroy's request (plain, homespun
sort of Norman, who has never flirted,
and dislikes balls) wears a tinge of un
warrantable audacity. And almost be
fore Xiana is aware of, what she is doing,
she has given a rather cart refusal
Norman walks away, slightly bowing
as he does so. He looks out of place
in a ball-room ; his face is too strong,
his figure to solidly massive, his whole
ensemble too nnsuggestive of
and its countless sham forms and frothy
fllNotlong after this he smiles bitterly
as he sees Diana rise with most amia
ble look and begin to float over the floor
with Walter Shelton.
The ball is not more than half over ;
the German has not even begun as yet ;
but Norman Pomeroy walks away.never
theless' from every vestige of its festi
vity, and finding a wholly deserted tract
of piazza, annihilates a cigar in sohtude.
After the cigar is smoked he goes up-
t. ivr thi-M weeks pass. Walter
Shelton's attentions continue unabated.
Norman is stiU at the hotel, though in
. juntnif mnod he has more than
once told himself that it will be far
better to go away. Unfortunately,
however, he cannot go back to work and
there absorb himself, for he has made
such positive arrangements for a per
manent vacation with h? "JPK
partner in his prosperous little Arm that
heia simply ashamed to return before
the stipulated tune n ci
h calls upon an
Hoadley, crossing the lawn from the
hotel with bent head and a general pro
occupied manner.
Mm. Hoadley receives her
most cordially. "I
is not at home," are almost the lady's
nrsT word, ifter they are e.ted.
"She" (and here there follows a rather
confused looking pause on the part of
the speaker)
"Has gone driving with Mr. Shelton,"
finishes Norman, composedly. "I saw
them start. But it was not Miss Diana
whom I came to see, Mrs. Hoadley."
"Whom then, Norman?"
"Yourself. I wished, however, to
talk with you concerning your daughter.
I know that what I intend saying is no
possible affair of mine, and doubtless I
am taking the most reckless of liber
ties." "Speak on, Norman," Mrs. Hoadley
softly encourages.
Norman Pomeroy's dark gray eyes are
fixed very steadfastly now on the face
of Diana's mother.
"Mrs. Hoadley, I believe that your
daughter has become greatly interested
in Walter Shelton."
Mrs. Hoadley looks right troubled at
this. "Oh, Norman," she presently
bursts forth, "if you only knew what
an effort it has oast me to bring myself
into acknowledging that Diana really is
fond of Walter Shelton! I do not like
the man ; I have never liked him 1 And
Norman" lowering her voice to regret
ful semi-tone "there was a time, you
know, when I firmly trusted that
that"
"Yes, I know," he breaks in, a little
coldly, though his eyes shine almost as
if from unshed tears, "Bat that is all
past now all irrevocably past, Mrs.
Hoadley." Then he suddenly rises and
walks toward the window, stands gazing
from it for a moment, knits his brows
worriedly once or twice, and at length
turns toward Mrs. Hoadley, speaking
with most rapid tones and in an excited
voice: "Close observation can show a
man a great deal, and it has shown me
this : Every fresh day that Diana Hoad
ley is in Walter Shelton's company she
becomes more and more attached to
him. He fascinates her, as he is trying
to do. It is his trade."
"What do you mean ?"
"He has ne other occupation in life,
one might almost say. He is the sort
of man who counts up his 'conquests'
every year very muoh as an Indian brave
might count the number of scalps he
has taken. Marry? Not he! If a woman
believes the nonsense he talks to her
and pines for him after he has gone away
among 'fresh fields and pastures new,'
why the more fool she is that is all."
"Do you mean to tell me the man is
like this, Jiorman?
"I know it But in the case of your
daughter I propose at least giving him
the benefit of the doubt"
"I don't understand."
"Let me explain : With your permis
sion I mean to meet this man and hold
an interview with him. As an old friend
of his family I shall ask him whether he
has matrimonial views or not it he
tells me a falsehood I shall very soon
detect it should he positively state
that it was his intention to ask for your
daughter's hand, then I shall have no
further words with him."
There is a slight silence, now. Mrs.
Hoadley levels upon Norman looks of
ill-concealed admiration.
"This is so noble and kind of you !"
she at length bursts forth. "There are
not many men who would behave in so
disinterested a spirit !"
"Oh, do not speak of that," Norman
murmurs. "There is one point in this
coming interview," he progresses,
"which somewhat bothers me. I mean
where to hold it My room at the
hotel is so small, and what one say so
nearly sure to be heard among the next
door apartments, that '
"Let it be held here," interrnpta Mrs.
Hoadley.
"Here !"
"Why not?"
"But yon cannot arrange it"
"Do not be too sure of that" Mrs.
Hoadley looks thoughtful for a few
seconds. Presently she goes on, with
considerable earnestness : "Altogether,
Norman, I would rather have you meet
here, for more reasons than one. And
as for its not being practicable, I really
doubt if you can have thought much
on the question, to decide so. We can
very easily arrange the whole matter."
IL
On the following morning Diana is
occupying the sitting-room, with a visi
tor on the sofa at her side. The visitor
is Mr. Walter Shelton. He looks ex
tremely handsome this morning, in his
elegant suit of white duck, relieved by
a rich blue-silk cravat He is reading
Tennyson to Diana, who bends above
some embroidery that seems to occupy
her attention much more closely at cer
tain times that at others. Beading,
that is, in a very irregular way ; for
both he and his companion pay Mr.
Tennyson the frequent disrespect of in
truding their own thoughts (often com
monplace enongh) among the poet's
charming numbers.
Suddenly Mrs. Hoadley enters, fol
lowed by Norman Pomeroy. The look
of dissatisfaction that crosses Walter
Shelton's face is indeed ill-concealed,
as he rises to pay his greeting. Diana
is lady enough in her own house to smile
with the proper amount of courteous
ness. "I am very sorry to tell you, my
daughter," Mrs. Hoadley immediately
commences, "that you will have to leave
both these gentlemen in my hands for
some few minutes perhaps a quarter
of an hour.
"Why so, mamma ?" asks Diana.
"Because, my dear, Mrs. Wainwright
has sent her maid for you from the hotel
to bo over and cure one ot her neau
aches. You know how wonderfully you
cured her last one by just passing and
re-passing your fingers over her lore-
head.
"Yes. mamma : and since I have dis
covered that nature has endowed me
with the sweet privilege of at least call
ing myself good for something, I am
only too happy (speaking with laugh
terful earnestness) to hurry towards
poor Mrs. Wainwright s succor.
"But is she not very suddenly at
tacked ? I saw her less than an hour
ago, and she was looking quite well.
"Neuralgia comes on quite suddenly
always," responds Airs, noaaiey.
Jnat now Norman Pomeroy is won
dering silently to himself, "How is Mrs.
Hoadley possibly going to manage mat
ters? The headache of Mrs. Wain
wright's is a myth. Very well ; as soon
as Diana discovers it she will return.
That will make altogether too short a
time or my conversation with Walter
Shelton In afraid. Jura, xioaaiey is
rather bungling the affair, it seems.
- Diana leaves the room presently.
promising to return very soon, and
politely requesting both gentlemen to
await her recurn.
No sooner is she gone than Mrs.
TTnadlev rises and follows her. calling.
"Diana. Diana." as though desirous of
oonunnnioating some important matter
niwrionalv forgotten.
The two gentleman left together re
main silent Three good minutes
elapse. Presently Walter Shelton
makes a languid remark about the heat.
and Norman civilly assents. Meanwhile
no Mrs. Hoadley.
Norman wonders whether he is ex
pected to begin ; concludes yes, and is
just about to do so when he glances
towards the soft blue curtain that makes
a sort of arras (and a very tasteful one)
between the sitting-room and the adja
cent sitting room. The curtain is drawn
aside now, and a servant enters the
apartment
"Mrs. Hoadley is very sorry," the
servant begins, "but she wants to know
if the gentlemen will excuse her for
about ten minutes, or perhaps a little
longer." Saying this the servant dis
appears by the door leading into the
halL
Norman sees now how Mrs. Hoadley
has managed. But he is far from liking
the probability of Diana's returning
from the hotel at any moment, annoyed
with her mother, and interrupting him
in his interview at a most mat apropos
time.
However, the best plan is for him to
begin promptly. Norman decides, and
condenses what he has to into as few
words as possible.
immediately after the servant has
quitted the room he glances toward his
companion and speaks these words in a
voice 01 perfect composure :
"Air. Shelton, 1 desired an opportu
nity for some private words with you.
and am glad to see that it has arrived."
W alter ahelton bows coolly. Tsorman
Sroceeds, remembering that he has
ttle time and must make the best of it :
"I am a friend of Mrs. Hoadley, and
have known her late husband intimately
enough to feel privileged even beyond
the limit of most friendl I therefore
ask you what are your intentions re
garding Miss Diana ? Do yon mean to
ask her to become your wife ?"
v alter shelton aits the picture 01
utter amazement for some few seconds.
staring at the man who had thns dared
to address him. At length he responds,
as coolly as surprise will let him :
"I do not consider yon authorized to
put that question, sir."
"1 nave an excellent reason for doing
so."
"What reason?"
Norman's eye is fixedly levelled upon
Shelton's handsome, rather effeminate
face. I suspect that you are merely
enjoying yourself with Miss Diana
Hoadley flirting with her, in other
words and that you mean no serious
results to come of your present inti
macy." shelton s lip curls with a sneer now
under his handsome mustache. "Do
you call that a reason t" he questions,
with a short, contemptuous little laugh.
"It is part of a reason. The second
part is this : I believe Miss Diana to
be rapidly falling in love with you.
"That is more flattering, surely.
"And the third and last part of my
reason, Norman continues, "is its most
powerful portion : I hold her in suffi
cient regard to feel unwilling that her
future shall be made unnecessarily
miserable. This is why I speak with
you, Mr. Shelton, on so delicate a sub
ject If you mean marriage with Miss
Diana, and tell me honestly that this is
the case, I shall say nothing more and
apologize for having spoken at all. But
11 not
"WeO if not.' Mr. Chivalrous?"
There is so much insolent scorn in
Shelton's tones as he utters these words
that Norman bites his lips to keep his
anger under good control. Hat he re
members their place of meeting.
"If not, sir, why I shall have Miss
Diana warned against you."
"She will not listen to you dont
deceive yourself."
"She will listen to her mother, how
ever, who suspects, by the way, just as
I have suspected, that you are merely
trifling with her. Acknowledge that
you mean to marry her that is all I
ask. indeed he goes on, nis voice
suddenly softening most noticeably
"I beg yon to tell me the real truth re
garding your true feelings."
"Beg as much as you please, my dear
sir," is the scoffing answer.
'Norman s voice rings hard, cold
challenge now. "I dare yon to tell
me."
Norman has calculated well. Walter
Shelton's nature a combination of
weakness and vanity has not power to
resist these few defying words.
"You dare me, do you ?" he laughs,
bravado to the very finger-nails. "And
suppose I should tell you the truth, my
fine fellow, who is going to be a whit
the wiser ? Do you fancy the fair Diana
would believe any story of yours ? Or,
even if her mother should credit what
you said, how much influence would
she have against me ?"
Aorman sees very plainly now now
this childish, egotistical nature may be
managed. The truth at which he wishes
to arrive may be reached rather
promptly. No very hard mining re
quired in such soil as this.
"Nevertheless," he sternly states,
"you have not yet dared to tell me what
your intentions are regarding Miss
Diana."
"Dared ! ha! ha ! ha ! Dared ! hear
the man ! Why, I mean to amuse my
self with her society till I am tired of
it And now, my fine friend, I dare
you to repeat what I say. Mnch good
it will do you if you attempt such a
thing."
"There is no necessity for that Mr.
Shelton. I have heard you already."
As these words fall upon the ears of
both men they both start with an equal
surprise. Pale as a ghost, Diana Hoad
ley emerges from behind the blue,
arras-like curtain.
She walks straight toward Norman
Pomeroy and puts out her band. "I
thank yon with all my soul," she mur
murs, fervently, and the next moment
reels with a sudden faintness, just in
time for Norman to catch her by means
of an opportune arm-sweep.
"Coward I" now comes from between
the white bps of Walter Shelton, whilst
Norman is bearing her to a near sofa ;
"I see well what your contemptible
game has been. You stationed the girl
behind that curtain "
"It is nntrne !" exclaims Mrs. Hoad
ley's voioe, whilst that lady, having
entered the sitting-room unobserved,
now hurries toward her daughter. "I
stationed her there, unknown to Mr.
Pomeroy. He thought the story of
Mrs. Wain Wright's headache a ruse to
get her away ; he did not dream that
the moment I met her in the hall 1
made her go into the dining-room with
me and listen to everything that was
said there."
At this moment Diana, whose faint
ness has been of very short duration.
heaves a great sigh and uncloses her
eyes. They chance immediately to rest
upon the face of Walter Shelton.
"Oh," she shudders, "has not that
dreadful creature gone yet V
The dreadful creature tries to smile
engagingly as he disappears ; but the
smile does not rank among his visible
successes.
Mr. Shelton goes away vowing terri
ble vengeance against Norman Pomeroy;
bat t subsequently proves, one cold
half-indifferent glance from the latter's
grave, gray eyes the next time they
meet lays low all such blood-thirsty in
stincts on the valiant part of Mr. Shel
ton. It is always darkest before dawn, we
have many of us heard ; and Norman
Pomeroy, who is now the accepted
future husband of Diana Hoadley, ot
truth has reason to credit this meteor
ological fact
"If ever a man had given np all
hope," he tells Diana on the day of
their happy reconciliation, "it was L
When I held that interview with Shelton
I had not the least idea, Diana, that any
remote chance would ever possibly make
me your husband. And yet what strange
thing happens 1"
"I have something to tell you, Nor
man," the girl now whispers, "that per
haps you will consider equally strange.
It is this" and she places her mouth
close to Norman's left ear : "I loved
you best all the time, and I hardly ever
cared the least bit for him."
Norman shrugs his shoulders, and
wears the nonplussed appearance of a
man who thoroughly "gives it up."
"Then, Diana, may I inquire for
what earthly reason you behaved as you
did?"
Diana is thoughtful for a moment
Then she suddenly imitates his own
shoulder-shrug and exclaims, whilst
shaking her head in a sort of impotent
and ludicrous manner :
"I can't tell you Norman indeed I
can't We women, you know, have a
way of doing things sometimes that we
can't explain afterward."
If you are a man, O friendly reader,
we can plainly imagine the mental
alacrity with which yon will speed to
endorse the above statement
The Good-by Hospitality.
The half of hospitality lies in the
speeding of parting guests. Lavish
welcomes are easily enongh bestowed,
but the hospitable thought must be
very genuine, indeed, which dares to
leave the guest as free and welcome to
go as to come. We all suffer, now and
then, from nndne urging to stay when
we prefer to go, and nearly every one of
ns is himself a sinner in this regard.
too. No sooner does the guest intimate
a wish to terminate his visit than we fly
in the face of his desire, and urge him
to stay longer. We sometimes do this,
too (do we not), as a mere matter of
duty, when in out hearts we care very
little whether the guest goes or stays.
We feel ourselves bound to show our
appreciation of onr friend's visit by
asking that he prolong it Now, true
hospitality ought to learn its lesson
better than this. Our efforts should be
from first to last to make our friend's
visit thoroughly pleasant and agreeable
to him. We strive for this result in
welcoming him. It is the desire to do
this which prompts ns to offer him the
most comfortable chair and to set out
our best viands, if he break bread with
us. It is that he may enjoy his stay
that we talk only upon agreeable topics.
In short, from the time he crosses our
threshold until he rises to leave, we
courteously endeavor to make the mo
ments sup by as pleasantly as possible.
But the moment he asks for his hat our
courtesy fails us. Hitherto we have
studied to anticipate and to gratify his
every wish. Now, that he wishes to go,
however, we endeavor to thwart his
pleasure. We selfishly try to turn him
from his purpose to ours. We wish
him to stay, while he wishes to go.
Courtesy would prompt us to give his
wish precedence to our own, but, as a
rule, we ask him to sacrifice his own to
our pleasure.
Tobacco Smoke Good Tor the
Teeth.
It is only fair on tobacco to point out
that it is gradually clearing itself from
many of the serious charges brought
against it It has been frequently and
persistently alleged that among other
ill effects (besides death and madness)
produced by tobacco is destruction of
the teeth. This, it appears, is entirely
a mistake. Instead of tobacco causing
the teeth to decay, it is the very best
thing in the world for them, and those
who wish to preserve their teeth should
immediately take to smoking, if they
have not already indulged in the habit
At a lecture on teeth, laughing gas and
electricity as connected with the dental
surgery, delivered last month in Lon
don by Mr. Thomas Brown.the lecturer
observed that it was popularly consid
ered that the practice of smoking de
teriorated the teeth. "There could,"
he added, "be no greater fallacy. It
was true that it sometimes discolored
the teeth, but it did not cause decay;
on the contrary, it prevented decay on
account of the disinfecting properties
of tobacco smoke." This leaves the
British Anti-Tobacco Association and
other kindred bodies in a very disagree
able position, for it destroys all confi
dence in the awful predictions they are
in the habit of uttering as to the fate of
smokers. If tobacco does not injure
the teeth, but is in fact good for them,
perhaps it does not shorten life, but is
even favorable to longevity. Every
Saturday.
ffamti'i VBappreeiated Work.
After all, the greatest amount of the
necessary but nnobstrusive work in the
world is done by the women. It is their
province in comparative retirement to
supply the essentials of all well-regulated
life and all civilized society. They
find recognition from all true men, and
they find reward both in the results of
their labor reflected upon themselves
and in the self-consciousness of their
usefulness. Whatever is successfully
accomplished in the way of reform and
progress, of added happiness and of
salutary change, is remotely or directly
prepared in the general committee of
womankind, and in the special com
mittee of the household. The fact that
the real work of the world is "without
observation," is demonstrated in the
relations which exist between the sexes.
It was the "Great Frederick" who asked,
when any casualty occurred, "Where is
the woman ?" He would have added to
his greatness had he conceded that in
good as well as evil, in prosperity as
well as in adversity, the same question
would be quite in order.
Coaveaioat Apologies.
A respectful public functionary in
Dundee, of parsimonious habits, was
one day rallied by a friend from the
country upon the extreme shabbiness
of his attire. "Hoot man," answered
the bailie, "it's nae matter ; every body
kens me here ;" meaning that his char
acter being perfectly known in the place,
it was quite unnecessary that he should
fortify his pretensions by fine clothes.
It happened that the same friend met
him afterwards in the streets of London;
and, finding his clothes no better, ex
pressed still greater surprise than be
fore, adding that surely his former ex
cuse would not now avail him, "Hoot
man," answered the pertinacious miser,
"naebody kens me here !"
A Barbarous Bull-Fight.
A Mexican correspondent says : "The
Spanish bull-tight loses nothing of its
barbarity here. We found an enclosure
prepared expressly for feats of this
character, containing already some )
to vw person men, women anu cnu
dren. They were seated on a platform
so elevated above the circle in which
the tight was to take place.giving them
a fair view of the performance, and at
the same time were perfectly safe from
the infuriated animals. Bauds of mu
sic were in attendance, together with
exhibitions of terpsichorean feats, pre
paratory to the first attack upon a
huge wild bull. His entrance into the
ring was accompanied by four men.nni
formed in bright scarlet, who held red
blankets directly liefore the eyes of the
frightened animal, at which he made
his first plunge. These were suddenly
snatched away causing him to rush
past. The operation was repeated nntil
tear was changed to rage. The men
rvere prepared with sticks nlwmt two
feet in length, to which rockets were
attached.
"The sticks were ornamented with
nations colored tissue paiM-rs and
sharp-barbed daggers were driven in
the end, with which the bull was
pierced. They were left sticking in the
flesh, the pressure licing sufficient to
explode the fuse of the rocket, causing
a reMirt like that of a pistol. During
this time the poor brute went liellow
iug and charging around the circle at a
furious rate, making passes at the men
with blankets, who took good care to
keep out of his reach. After torturing
and tormenting the infuriated animal
until he was so completely exhausted
that he would sutler without resistance,
he was ejected from the ring. Hut if
too stubiom, two horsemen would ap-
ear and lasso and drag him away,
hiring this cruel performance, when
the bull would make a dash, causing
his merciless assailants to scale the
wall, the crowd would cry, 'Bravo!
bravo!' and when the animal was taken
from the ring numerous voices shouted.
'Otrotoro! otrotoro!' (another bull !
another bull !)"
An 1 nlweky Tallyman.
Several of the Paris journals express
great sympathy with the misfortunes
of a Frenchman who, being in Dublin
at the time of an execution for murder
some time ago, determined to possess
himself of a piece of the rope used upon
the "mournful occasion." He is said
to have had an interview with the "cele
brated Calcraft," and for the snm of
five sovereigns to have purchased the
whole rope, which he brought back to
Paris in triumph, believing himself to
be henceforward protected from the
shafts of fortune. Within a month one
of his children was nearly hanged with
this rope by her brother, who was play
ing "hangman," and, though the father
"cot her down" in time, she has never
fully recovered from the shock. Some
time afterwards the owner of the rope
went to Havre on business connected
with his trade, and as he had a large
sum of money in his possession when
he was returning to Paris, he placed it
in a box, which he made secure with
the "lucky rope." The box was stolen
during the journey, and though it was
afterward! discovered at the Paris ter
minus with the rope around it the
money had been abstracted. It might
have been thought after two such dis
appointments, the rope would have
been got rid of as a talisman of evil, but
that such was not the case is evident
from the fact of its owner, who had ex
perienced heavy losses in his business
since the robbery, having attempted to
commit suicide with it so recently as
last week. Just as he had "cut down"
his daughter, so his wife "cut down"
him. and according to last accounts he
is almost convalescent When he is
completely restored to health he will
probably see the propriety of parting
with such an unlucky purchase, and,
as there are no lack of collectors in
Paris, he may, by a skillful recital of
the dramatic events attached to this
rope, get rid of it at a profit
Cotton Factories in the Sooth.
Xo branch of industry has proved so
successful in the Southern States since
the war as cotton factories a numlcr
of which Iiav5 within the past two years
sprung up iu Georgia, Alabama and
other States. Instead of shipping cot
ton in bales to r.uroe and -New tug
laud, and importing the manufactured
article at high prices, in several of the
States the cotton is manufactured with
in a few miles of the plantation, aud
thus the cost of export and importation
is saved to the producing States. One
company the Granitevillet'ottoii Com
pany, near August;!, Georgia last year
divided over twenty-two per cent, on
their capital bctweeu stock holders, ami
even more gratifying results have liecn
achieved by other attempts iu the same
direction. The Southern press, from
these experiments, advocate the erec
tion of cotton mills wherever water
power in the cotton-producing region
is attainable. All the States are blessed
with abundant water power, ami there
is no reason why the nversof the South
ten years hence should not le dotted
with manufactories like the rivers of
New Kngland, aud alxmt them spring
up towns swarming with honest, indus
trious oeratives. New Kngland has
had a monooly of the cotton manu
facture long enough, and the South, or
at least those States that have esca l
from canet-bag rule, bv fostering care
can successfully compete with her. As
an extra inducement for capital to seek
investment South the Legislatures
might wisely enact laws exempting the
mills from taxation for a stated jM-riod.
The benefits sure to accrue would more
than compensate for the remission of
taxes ou this kind of property.
Aaeient Americans.
The workmen engaged in opening a
way for the projected railroad lictwecii
Weldon and Garrysburgh.N. C.struck,
alont a mile from the former place, in
a bank lieside the river, a catacomb of
skeletons, supposed to be those of In
dians of a remote age, a lost and for
gotten race, The bodies exhumed were
of a strange and remarkable forma
tion. The skulls were nearly an inch in
thickness; the teeth were filed sharp as
those of cannibals.the enamel perfectly
preserved; the bones were of wonder
ful length and strength, the fenr.tr
being probably as great as eight or nine
feet Near their heads were sharp
stone-arrows, some mortars in which
their corn was brayed, and the bowls
of pipes, apparently of soft soapstone.
The teeth of the skeletons are said to
be as large as those of a horse.
The bodies were found closely packed
together, laid tier on tier, as it seemed.
There was no discernable ingress or
egress to the moumL The mystery is
who these giants were, to what race
they belonged, to what era, and how
they came to be buried there. To thes
inquiries no answer has yet been made,
and meantime the ruthless spade con
tinues to cleave skull and Inxly asun
der, throwing np in mangled masses
the bones of this heroic tribe. It is
hoped that some effort will be made to
preserve authentic and accurate ac
counts of these discoveries.and to throw
some light if possible, on the lost tritw
whose bones are thus rudely disturbed
from their sleep in the earth's bosom.
Yoiitlis Column.
Safe FIous Onxk More. On the
coast of Massachusetts, there are small
towns, where the fishermen dwell close
by the salt sea. The fisherman has to
run great risks ; and his family often
pass many anxious hours watching for
his return. Daring the year 1S7J more
than fifty fishermen belonging to one
small town lost their lives at sea.
John Payson lived in a little house on
a bank near the beach, ne had a wife
and four children, two of whom were
girls, and two boys. Mary, the eldest
child, took care of the youngest, who
was a baby. Paul and Jerry went to
school, and were bright little scholars.
Once, when John Payson was absent
on a fishing-trip, a great storm came
up, and many vessels were wrecked.
Several days passed by ; and no news
could be had oi John or his vessel. At
last, on a bright day in autumn, Mrs.
Payson put on her bonnet and shawl,
and, telling Mary to keep house, went
to the village post-ofiice to see if she
conld get a letter.
While she was gone, Jerry, the
younger of the two boys, who spent
nearly all his time on a rock near the
shore, looking out for his father's ves
sel, all at once gave a loud shout of
joy ; and then ran leaping into the
house, with the exclamation, "I see
'The Nancy Payson I' She's coming np
the harbor ! Father's safe ! Oh. lsu t
it too good 1"
"The Nancy Payson" was John Pay
son's little fishing vessel. Sure enongh,
he was coming back safe and sound.
When about an eighth of a mile from
the land, he got into his small boat,
and rowed ashore. Jerry, with bare
legs, ran into the water to meet him,
jumped into his arms, and gave him a
kiss. Mary with baby in her arms,
followed by Paul waving his hat, ran
eagerly to greet him.
"But where's mother?" asked John
Payson, after he had embraced all his
little ones more than once.
"Mother's gone to the village after
news," replied Mary.
They had not been seated long in
their little house, when Paul raised the
cry, "Mother's coming 1" John Payson
stepped behind the door, and hid, mo
tioning to the children to keep quiet
Mother came in, looking very sad. "Not
a word of news about yonr father," said
she. "What will become of us ?"
"Papa dar, dar !" cried baby, scream
ing the words out with all her might,
and pointing in great excitement at the
door.
The next moment mother and father
were pressed in each others arms. What
a happy hour it was for the poor fisher
man aud his family 1 You may be sure
their prayers that night were full of
gratitude and pious content
I.n- the forests of Brazil grows a curi
ous plant, about as high as a man ; with
a twisted stem covered with knots. This
is the mandive; and from its roots come
two things, bread and poison : the sweet
white flour which forms the bread of
the people, and the deadly poison in
which the Indian dips his arrow points.
The white flour is farina, and it goes
all over the world as a delicacy for sick
people and well people ; but you never
wonld guess, that when the mandive
roots were crushed to prepare it, the
juice that flowed out was deadly enongh
to arm the Indian's arrow against the
great beasts of the forests.
That is not all ; the natives know how
to make from this same juice, a liquor
that will make them as tipsy as any of
their white brothers can get on gin and
whiskey. The women do the work, 0
coarse. Your savage is too much of a
fine gentleman to serve himself : so the
women gather the mandive roots, and
slice and boil them quite soft When
the roots are cool, they are ground
quite fine ; in a mill, do you suppose ?
Not at all ; these useful women chew
them, and spit them out in a vessel of
water ; when they have chewed them
all up, the whole contents of the vessel
are boiled and stirred, and finally
poured into jars, and buried in the floor
of the hut, with the months tightly
stopped. Wen the liquor is sufficiently
fermented the drinking feast begins,
and the crazy Indians go from house to
house, dancing and singing until all the
jars are emptied. Then they go to
sleep to get sober, and wait for the
women to make some more liquor.
A Child's Pleadiso. The Louisville
Courier Journal vouches for the follow
ing : Oue afternoon, as a beautiful
spaniel dog was passing down Walnut
street, near Fifteenth, his dreaded
enemy, the policeman, came up to him
ready to give him a button, but, just as
he was in the act of poisoning the dog,
a little three-year-old black-eyed girl
said to him, "Please don't kill that
dog." The bright, innocent expression
of the child caused the policeman to
pause and ask whether it was her dog.
"No sir," was the reply, "but if you
will let me, I'll put it in my yard and
keep it there." The dog seemed to
understand this little pleader for his
life, and running up to her, caressed
her hands and showed every manifesta
tion of joy and gratitude. The plead
ings of the child succeeded with the
policeman, and the spaniel's life was
saved. A gentleman, stinding by, in
quired of the child her name, when she
answered "Kosa Lthel Johnston ; 1 live
with grandpa."
Do toc know that the cuttle fish, a
bit of whose white chalky bone you
hang np in yonr bird cage, carries an
ink bottle of his own ? in fact, he may
be called the inventor of ink, since he
undoubtedly was the very first one to
put it to any practical use. He uses it,
as many of his betters have done, for
defense against bis enemies. He has
plenty of them, lobsters, eels, sea
wolves, and so forth ; and when he sees
them close at hand, he empties his ink
bottle into the water aud blackens it so
that he has a chance to escape in the
darkness. Little Corporal.
Charape. I am a won! of three syl
lables ; cut off my second and third,
and I am a boy's nick-name ; cut off my
first and third, and I signify large ; cut
off my first and second, and I am an
insect ; my whole is the name of a river
in the t nited htates.
Answer : Tombigbee.
One of the most beantif ol specimens
of floral workmanship was a full bark
rigged steamer presented to a bride re
cently in the Cunard steamer Calabria,
It was an exact fac simile of that mag
nificent vessel, and was four feet long
and eight foet high. The hull of the
floral steamer was one mass of pinks,
and the masts were gaily decked with
silk flags. Tue funnel was a red satin
ribbon, and the sails were of white satin.
On deck were evergreen chairs and
benches, and above all, on a spiral, was
a live dove with a bine satin collar.
A good sermon is like a kiss it re
quires but two heads and an application.
"Vm-ietiess.
Spicer's son, who works in a candy
shop, says he prefers handmaid kisses
to machine made ones.
A Missouri jadge has decided that a
woman is not an "old maid" until she
is thirty-five years old.
An Oahkosh judge lately received four
bars of soap for a marriage fee. Could
this be considered clean cash !
"Pa, what is the use of giving onr
pigs so much milk ?" "So that they can
make hogs of themselves, darling."
When a bit of ostrich feather is found
by a wife in her husband's beard no one
can blame her for being down on him.
A Western paper is dead. Iu its last
gasp it faintly whispered. "Two hun
dred subscribers, and only thirty-one
paid np."
Valedictory of nis Honor, the Mayor
of Denver: "Thank God, ita over with !
I wouldn't take it again for a kingdom,
not if I know it"
An old gentleman at Columbia Falls.
Mo., aged 83 years, was recently married
the ceremony being performed by his
son, aged CI years.
Temperance and labor are the two
best physici&ns of man ; labor sharpens
the appetite, and temperance prevents
him from indulging in excess.
The Captain-General of Havana has
issued a decree imposing a tax of 10 per
cent on all incomes ex -eediug $1,000,
only the army and navy being excepted.
A Parisian tradesman, named Lassenr,
who was recently sick, having swallowed
a fork, has now picked np his health,
and seems to have forgotten the trident
in his stomach.
It is reported that upwards of seven
thousand paintings have been sent iu
for the ensuing exhibition of the Paris
Salon, and that the works of sculpture
contributed are fully as numerous.
A Chinaman on trial in California for
larceny proved that he was not within
a mile of the property when it was
stolen. He was let off with one year's
imprisonment for contempt of court
La Mothe was not a great writer, but
he understood human nature. Finding
that his book had a slow sale, he pro
cured a prohibition against the reading
of it, aad every copy was disposed of.
Duties are ours, events Gods. Thia
removes an iufinite burden from the
shoulders of a miserable, tempted, dying
creature ; on this consideration he can
securely lay down his head and close his
eyes.
Barbara Freitchie's nieae spoils an
other romance by asserting that her
aunt did not wave the National flag in
the faces of the rebels as they marched
through Fredericktown, bnt only poked
them with her cane.
Phebe Couzins doesn't dress like her
brothers of the bar. Sue wears a heavy
silk with a polonaise richly trimmed
with black lace, roses in her bosom,
white frills around her neck, and spark
ling aigrette in her hair.
Truth being founded npon a rock,
you may boldly dig to see its founda
tions, without fear of destroying its edi
fice ; but falsehood being laid on the
sand, if yon examine its foundations
you cause it to fall.
The gold fields which De Soto and
many others after him vainly tried to
discover in the interior of the country,
are said to have recently been found in
Arkansas. They are said to be in the
mountains, near the Choctaw line.
Muzzle-loading guns can be altered
into breech loaders without difficulty.
This will be a welcome fact to many
sportsmen who have a great reluctance
to give up their old pieces to which they
have become attached and with which
they have done noble duty in times
past
An Institute for the Promotion of the
Fine Arts, to which are attached a mn
seum, library and reading-room, is about
to be opened to the public at Sterling.
It was founded by the late Mr. Thomas
Smith, of Fitzroy Square, London, who
left by will $110,000 for this purpose,
and also a fine collection of pictures.
The Princess Marie Hohentohe is at
the head of the Vienna kitchens for the
poor. She is a lovely and elegant woman.
bnt she goes every morning to the great
hall, accompanied by Sisters of Charity,
and, putting on a large apron, devotes
two hours to cutting bread and meat,
and ladling out broth to the hungry
creatures who come to her for food.
They who are the fullest of faith and
richest in good works make the least
sound; when their hearts and lives,
like the face of Moses, shine brightly
with grace and holiness, they do not
they will not know it They consider
their greatest light and lustre is bnt a
reflection from the Father of Lights,
and therefore they have no reason to
boast at all of borrowed goods.
A company is to be formed to raiso
the treasures which are still lying in the
Latine, a ship which went down about
one hundred years ago in the Zuyder
zee. On thn Island of Uri a special
station for observation is to be erected,
in order to snatch the favorable moment
in which the work of diving can be
undertaken, a moment which occurs
only some number of times in the year.
The man who has placed himself at the
head of the undertaking, Vermenlen,
has discovered a special diving appara
tus with which work can be done also
nnder the sand. The wreck of the ship
is now estimated at 12,000,000 gulden
(1,00(),0U0) in ready money, while about
fifty years ago about eight millions was
brought to light
Inspired by the report of Rochefort's
escape from New Caledonia, M. Jules
Claretie contributes to the liubpeml
ance lirtge some of those ever-attractive
tales of similar events which seem to
excite the sympathy even of the most
law-abiding persons. The best of these
dates from the time of the Reformation,
when a certain Lutheran named Ccelins
Cnrion, falling into the power of the
Inquisition, underwent the usual pro
cess of suasion carried on by its fami
liars. An immense log of wood being
fastened to each of his feet escape
seemed hopeless. One day, however,
he induced his jailer to remove the log
from one of his feet which was swollen.
He then, when alone, took off his shirt,
stuffed it into the stocking be removed
from the freed limb, put a shoe on the
dummy, anil covered the real leg with
the folds of his cloak. He next begged
the goaler to change the log to the other
foot This the man did, thinking it
could not signify which of the prisoner's
legs was hampered, and having carefully
fastened the heavy piece of timber to
the stuffed stocking, left Callus Carion,
as he thought, safely manacled. As
soon as night fell the Lutheran resumed
his shirt and stocking, climbed out of
bis dungeon window, jumped over the
moat nd fled to a place of safety,
where he soon began to fulminate as
before against the priests, monks, and
Inquisitors, who all attributed his es
cape to magic.