2)lj fiiiiiicii """ '.- -"- JX 7"rr- - B. F. SCHWEIER, THI OO5STITUTI0N TH1 UNION AND THI ZCTOfiCEMEKT 07 THX LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XXXI. MIFFLINJOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA WEDNESDAY, MAY 16. 1877. NO. 20. K!ITTEG. With a blooming maiden titling. While she nimbly plies her knitting. Pleased I Km zed upon her beanty. While I nil my happy duty, "Paying cat" the zephyr doable. Richly paid (or pleasant titrable Just to watch her nimble fingers. And her ruby lips where lingers Many a beauty in her smiling. All my loving soul beguiling. J oat to feel the wond'rona thrilling. Of my heart with rapture filling. While beside the maiden sitting. "Paying out" while she is knitting, I rm thinking how our knitting Is an illustration fitting Of the real life we're living ; Of the mercies God is giving In the active world around him. When to woman man has bound him. Then are love and labor making All the joys our souls are taking. Bis to labor are supplying. "Paying out" life's thread, and trying Ever to undo ite tangling ; His to give life's thread and hold it ; Hera in lore to gently mould it luto forms of use and beauty. Thus they link their love and duty." The Blind Man's Ward. Gleasonwood was the name of a mag nificent castle, half ruinous, yet pictur esque and very beautiful, ' with ite turrets and towers, jutting abutments, long corridors, leading one scarce knew whither. It was surrounded by grounds once in the highest state of cultivation, but now sadly neglected. In the drawing-room, furnished with almost Eastern splendor, sat Mr. Glea son, the master of all this wealth ; the crimson cushions of the couch he occu pied brought into bold relief the band some profile. A grand face it was, with the midnight eyes and raven hair, the broad white brow and mouth tender as a woman's. But the face had lines of care, as of one who had learned to suffer and be strong ; the light of the beautiful eyes had gone out years ago, and all had been darkues thenceforth. Lie was be trothed to a lovely woman, and their marriage was soon to take place when the darkness fell, shutting out the beautiful world ; and tiie haughty belie' refusing to walk in the shadow which hail fallen upon his life, left him in Lis desolation. With a heart embittered, and faith outraged, be had retired to his country seat, resolved to mingle no mote with the world. Here lie had dwelt for three years with only his servants- hi3 faith ful valet, Lewis, being his only com panion, except when a few fi lends sought him out, which was seldom, for the dark, silent rooms, and the cold reserved master chilled them. In part he had learned forgetfulness, and the old pain had died out of his heart, while the picture so long enshrined there had become indistinct, and had not the ower to move it as of old. He was thinkirg of all this as he sat waiting the arrival of his ward, Grace Moore, whose father, dying, had ap- jiointed him her guardian, and he could not refuse, though be shrank from the change which her coming must make in the quiet of Gleasonwood. "Miss Moore has come. Shall I show her up?" announced Lewis, breaking in upon bis train of thought. "Certainly, show her up inimedl atelv. And he waited with a little flutter of the heart until a soft footstep sounded oc the carpet and a little hand was laid In his, and a voice of sweetest music said, "Mr. Gleason, my guardian, I be lieve ?' "The same. And this is my ward, Grace Moore?" he said, clasping her hand warmly. "Bather a troublesome one. I fear you will find me. I can't be dignified, so you must not expect It. I am so glad that you are not old and ugly, as I Im agined all guardians were. I know I shall like vou. and you must love me a little. Won't you?" "I think that will be an easy matter, Miss Moore." "Oh! please call me Grace. Papa always did." "Well, Grace it shall be. But pray be seated, now do you like Gleason wood ? Is Is not a rather pretty prison ?" " 'lis beautiful ! more so than any thing my imagination ever pictured. I should be contented to stay here al ways." "I used to think it very beautiful ; but now " He sighed and left the sentence un finished. "I am so sorry for you !" said Grace, with a quiver of tears in his voice, while a tear fell on the hand of the blind man. He started quickly, while his face flushed and paled alternately ; and when he spoke his voice was strangely husky. "No tears for me, Grace ; I do not need them. It was hard at first, but I do not mind it so much now. I have rare pictures stored away In my memory of the blue sky and sunshine, the green fields and Gleasonwood as it was then. I miss my books more than I can tell." "It will be a pleasure to read to -you, If you will pe-mit me." "I shall be happy to have you. But 'tis near our dinner hour, though' 'tis scarcely worth while to dress for dinner when you will only meet a blind man." "Oh, but is it though ? I will dress, and Lewis will tell you how I look. So au reroir!" ; And the little witch tripped op stairs to her room, humming a gay air. ' "How handsome he is ! I do wish he could see," site said with a little sigh as she surveyed herself in the mirror. A pretty reflection It was of a slight form, a fair, sweet face framed In curls of golden brown, clear truthful eyes of the same hue, the sweet mouth with Its twin rosebuds revealing the pearly teeth, and over all the picture of a kind radiance, an emanation of the purity within. Changing her heavy traveling dress, for a fairy I ike texture of blue, and twining a few roses in her curls, she descended to the drawing room aud stood a little proudly waiting for Lewis to give his opinion. to "Well, Lewis, what Is It? Surely you have made a decision," said Mr. Glea son, laughingly. -a scarcely Know, sir. The young lady is more like a picture of the Ma donna than anything I can liken her to." "Thank you," said Grace; and she took the arm of Mr. Gleason, and guided bis steps to the dining room. A pleasant companion she was, with ner cneery, sunny nature and sweet voice; she was, withal, Intelligent and well informed, winning that grave man irom ms gioomy sorrow ere he was aware of it, and his happy laugh rang out as In the olden time. A very sunbeam she was, charming all in the house. Her bird-like voice rang through the long, silent rooms, making sweet music for the blind man to whom she was fast becoming dearer than life. The broken tendrils of the old love bad twined around this fair young creature with a true, fervent love, beside which the old seemed but weak passion. Into every fibre of his heart she crept with her sweet ways and, well content, he cherished the image as the most sacred thing in life Very tender and kind she was, reading and singing for him, guiding his steps through the cool recesses of the beaut! ful forests surround ng Gleasonwood painting the beauties of earth and sky until he could almost see them through the sightless orbs. One gloomy day, when the clouds shut out all sunshine, and the rat precluded the hope of an outdoor ram ble, she asked him to go with her the picture gallery. Jt grand, gloomy day it was, with the portraits of his an cestors looking dark and stern in their armor, and paintings of rare beauty from the hands of the old masters, that he had collected in his rambling. He had forgotten none of them, and gave her the history of each. "I his is my mother. A periect wo man, I can hardly think her earthly Ah ! if she had lived, my life would have been different." It was the picture of a fair, delicate woman; her beautiful face was sur rounded by rich waves of raven hair, the blue eyes full of a tender light such a face as one would want for home angel. "Who is this?" asked Grace as they passed before a dark, brilliant woman with a face proud as June, but a rare beauty. "What do you think of her?" he asked, with a kind of tremor in his voice. "1 do not like her, for all her won- drous beauty. She lacks soul, and wouli crush in the way of ambition, even her own heart. Who is she ?" "Come to this wiudow seat and I will tell you her history." Seating her beside him, with one arm thrown carelessly about her waist, the little bands clasped in his, he told her the story of his love and its betrayal keeping back nothing except the new love that had blossomed into life. As he proceeded he felt the hands nestled in his grow cold, but he could not see the pallor of the bright face, or the look of pain that crept into the brown eyes, as she looked Into her heart and found how dear this handsome guar dian had become dearer for his blind- ness aud dependence upon her. But the light came back to her eves as he told her how his love for the false syren had died a speedy death, and peace had come back to him once more. It was your hand, Grace, that led me back to the sunshine, giving me new hope in life. I can never repay you for your kindness, and the sweet blossoms you have cast over my life. What shall I do without you For, If I remember rightly, you are to return to school in a few weeks." "I will not go back to school. Tou need me, and I am happier here than elsewhere. Please let me stay;" she said pleadingly, with an earnestness that was hard to resist. "I cannot, Grace," he said, drawing ber closer to him. "I must not be sel fish. I will try to be content until your school life is ended, when you must stay with me until you are marri?d." Swiftly sped the intervening weeks, bringing the time of separatiou. Mr. Gleason determined to execute a plan long thought of, to visit Germany, and bear from a skilful oculist there If there was any hope of restoring his sight. If so he would try to win this sweet flower that had shed so much fragrance over his life ; if not but he would not think of that. - - Seating himself at the piano one even ing, be drew forth a few rich notes; then as bis thoughts wandered back to the past, he gave them utterance In an improvision. As he closed the piano, he turned to her, feeling her presence intuitively. Grace, you here?" - -. , ; Yes, I have been listening to your music W bat Is it that pains you so?" "Nothing now. I can have no pain while you are with me, my sunbeam." He drew her to a seat beside him, and clasping her closely, as If to defy the world to separate them, said: Grace, Grace, I cannot let you go. I love you so with love that Is more than love. I know that you cannot re turn it. I could not ask you to link your sweet young life with that of a poor blind man. Forgive me, darling, I did not mean to tell you this, but In the thought of separatiou I forgot all but the" pain It would bring. Only tell me this, Grace. If we had met earlier, ere the darkness came, could you have loved me?" i Her face had grown very white, as she listened; but the crimson tide rolled In rosy waves over neck and brow as she answered softly have loved yon from the first; More precious than any thing else in life Is the love of Henry Gleason." "Grace, do not deceive me. I could not bear it. Tell me truly. Do you can you love a blind man I", he eried, with a face whiter than her own. "Tou obdurate mortal I Can't you tell that I love you, since every action proclaims how dear you are to me? Dearer far, on account of the darkness shrouding your life," she said, creep ing closely into the shelter of his arms- With a low cry of intense joy, and face radiant with this new found hap piness, he gathered ber to him, press ing kisses on the dewy lips, calling her by every sweet, endearing name that comes so readily at such times. "I am going to Germany to-morrow. I have faint hopes that my sight will be restored. If not, and I come back blind still, will you be mine?" "Tours always. The greatest happi ness of my life will be to make the sun. shine of yours." Six months sped quickly by on golden wings, freighted with joy and sorrow, sometimes sunshine predominating. At Gleasonwood all was bustle and prepa ration, servants tumbling over each other in their zeal to have all prepared for the coming of their beloved master, who was returning home, but whether with restored sight he did not say, and his silence they attributed to disap pointment. What a state of excitement Grace was in fluttering from oue room to another, like a humming bird, and glancing down the long line of road to see if he were coming. She had donned a dress of white with clustered forget-me-nots embroidered over it, the delicate lace sleeves looped up with sprays of the same, while a cluster, nestled in green leaves, trembled in her bosom. She had changed little, save that her face had grown fairer, with a loveliness that seemed scarcely earthly, and the white brow expanded, as the thoughts and aspirations found fulfilment. She had grown weary of waiting, and nestled In Henry Gleason's chair, drawn in the shadows of the crimson curtains, where she could see the arri val of the carriage, had fallen asleep, beautiful picture she made, with the white lids veiling the brown eyes, the little hands, like twin snowflakes, quietly folded. So thought Mr. Glea son as he openen the door noiselessly. aa he stood with brimming eyes, gazing upon the sweet sleeper. Fairer than ever his fancy had painted her, was the face that had been his guiding star, the one sweet hope in life, tie kissed ber softly. The brown eyes opened, and rested upon his face a mo ment in bewilderment; then as she re cognized him, they grew radiant with joy, and with a glad cry she was folded to bis heart. iiut you do not ask me about my eyes? Can you still be the wife of Dim a man. i will release yon if you wish." I see you want to get rid of me. But I will not accent my freedom. Tou are dearer to me than all else in life. Will that content you, unbelieving mortal ?' she asked placing over his mouth one little band that soon grew rosy with his kisses. "More than content, my sweet song bird, for heaven has given me the best treasure 'n life in your love and also re stored my sight." And the dark eyes gazed down into her own with a radiant joy that almost blinded her. For a moment she could scarcely comprehend her great happi ness; then a glad cry went ringing out Into the darkness, as the strong arms that were to be ber protection hence forth enclosed her, while a grand thanksgiving swept up to the golden portals from two grateful hearts. So we leave them, knowing that their lives will be full of a perfect joy and love that casteth out fear, and that after the darkness a glorious drawing came, promising a blessed fruition. Tke Law or Stasias;. Wonders of the Waters. Among the most wonderful fish to be found in the world is the blind Proteus, which is found only in the subterranean lakes of Krain, in Austria, Six fine specimens of this creature have just been received at the Aquarium in New Tork city, with a consignment of sub marine wonders from Europe, and with proper care it is hoped they will live for a considerable time. - In color they are yellowish pink, which, however, on exposure to light, becomes mottled and subsequently turns to a dark brown. They have long flat heads and four short slender legs, the fore feet ending n two nailless toes and the hind feet in three. Strange to say, coming as they do out of utter darkness, the creatures have eyes. They are small, however. ud are ordinarily completely hidden beneath the skin. Somewhat similar to these fish is the Mexican Axoboth, an other strange creature just received. Lang Tsing Tee" is the name of a beautifully colored fish, two specimens of which have just been sent from China. These are of a bright golden yellow, tipped on the fins with black, aud they have each four lace-like tails." London papers make mention of a Glasgow widow who has brought suit against a man for kissing her. with damages laid at $2,500. There is of late an alarming frequency of this class of actions, which seems to demand that our codes should be so extended as to in elude and properly describe and limit the offence. It cannot be the intention of the law to put an end to all oscula tory exercise: for there are occasions when kissing is as legitimate as pleas ant. What is needed, then, is such statutory regulation as shall inform the anxious man, accustomed to set his face resolutely against every labial temptation, just whom he may kiss and whom he may not, and what shall be the measure of damages in case the law is broken. One of the ancient despots was accustomed to have- his laws written in the smallest hand and posted in out-of-the-way places, so that there might , be more punishment for those who unwittingly broke them. Bat such a barbarous practice is not to be followed nowadays let our lips know the danger that threatens them. It is quite clear that damages cannot be levied on kisses in the abstract, for they differ as widely as do-fishes in the sea. For "the kiss snatched hasty from the sidelong maid," for example, only the smallest possible damages should be awarded. The word "sidelong, as we interpret it, means that the maiden was not altogether averse to the pro cess, and it is doubtful if even an action for trespass in the case could be sus tained. Replevin, perhaps, would lie; at all events no man of honor who had stolen a kiss from a "sidelong maid" could hesitate to return it when in formed that she was indignant at the theft. But referring to the authorities most quoted on this interesting question of law we find frequent record of kisses of a much graver character, In the case of Paris vs. Helen (Marlow on Faust) it is laid down that Helen in the process of kissing was guilty "of suck ing forth his soul' a practice so rep rehensible as to merit the heaviest damages. A case is mentioned in Sha kespeare also where the plaintiff alle ges that the defendant "then kissed me hard, as if he plucked np kisses by the roots, that grew upon my lips." Here we have both trover and trespass, and it is not clear that criminal indictment for highway robbery could not be had. In the case of Donna Julia vs. Don Juan there was "a long, long kiss, a kiss of youth and love," wherein specific dam ages might be demanded, on the prin ciple that time is money and that a gret deal of it was wanted. In the fa mous case of Fat i in a, also pleaded by Tennyson, counsel for the crown, the prosecutrix testified: O lore, 0 tr ! esc be drew With ere !oag kirn my whole eral tl rough M j lip, aa anlifbt drroketh dew. For this explanative process we should presume the heaviest damages would lie. Of another line of kisses. similar to that of the moukey who married the baboon's sister, Mr. Swin burne has treated so long and ably that we may suppose the court to be fa miliar with the principles laid down in his interesting work. It is related of the author, Mr. Swinbnrne himself, that some years siuce, at an English dinner party, so entrancing and seductive was the bloom of a fresh cheek close to his own, he could not help but "print with velvet lip upon her cheek such lan guage as the tongue has never spoken, Speedy judgment was rendered in the case for the summary ejection of the criminal, but execution was stayed on the plea of emotional insanity, the con sequence of too much sherry. Bat it is useless to multiply instances it will strike the reader at once that there are kisses and kisses, and judg ment ought not to be rendered on the face of the certificate. No fair est! mate of damage is possible without go ing behind the returns to ascertain the character of the act. It might be nec essary in particular cases to permit the jury to view the premises, or, perhaps. by testative experiment, to determine the quality of the article stolen. In this Glasgow case, for example, it is difficult to understand the ground upon which so large a claim as $2,500 is made widows beiDg ordinarily bo familiar with processes of that character as not to be taken by surprise, and to be open in such a case as this to suspicions of re sistance after the fact. But, after all, perhaps, the best plea to the jury which counsel for defendant could make would be that cited by the Rev. Charles Kingsley in the case of Pelagia: Lips are made only to kiaa: Haada ara auade only to toy; yee ara made only A Historical Pair ef aelaaara. Among the relics loaned to the Old South exhibition by the town of Con cord are a pair of scissors of which the following interesting story is told : A young English staff officer waa fre quently sent to Uonoora to tne nouse of Colonel James Barrett on business connected with the commissary depart ment, and while waiting for a reply would amnse himself by talking loyalty with James Barrett's oldest daughter Millicent. to hear her rebel replies. He asked her what they would do if it should become necessary for the colo nies to resist as there waa not a person that even knew how to make cartridges. She replied that the--would use their powder horns and bullets just as they shot bears. '-That," said the young man, "would be too barbarous. Give me a piece of pine, ana i will scow you how.'r : After whittling the stick to the proper form, he took the scissors and eat the paper for the pattern cartridge. The aeqnel shows how apt a scholar she was, for all the cartridges were made nnder her superintendence by the wo men of Concord, ner only male assist ant being ber youngest brother, the later Major James Barrett, who -drove the last load of cartridges from the bonse after the British eame in sight on the 10th of April 1775. Albany Fne Preu. ing away down the hilL to the consid erable damage of its stock and barrels. 1 picked myself np, however, and by dint of hard running arrived above and parallel to the bears, and commenced a running fight with them, in which my chances would have been a good deal better had I had a breach instead of muzzle loader. At last one of them came round up the hill at me, rising on his hind legs, pulling down branches ana dancing and spluttering in so ludi crous a manner that I eould scarcely shoot lor laughter, when I did, he got both barrels throngh the chest, and subsided. loever got the other. aa it had sufficient headway to escape into some hollow rocks near the river road. A wounded bear will often charge with great determination. He comes on like a cannon ball ; and the DODular idea that he will rise on his hind legs in time to give a shot at the "horseshoe mark on his chest to pen etrate which is fatal, is, as a rule. mistake. But a shot, when he is ten or hfteen yards off, will nesrly always turn, if it does not kill him. The most successful way of getting bears is to get up very early, and go np to some commanding position that overlooks the pathways taken by the animals on their return from the low gronnd. where they go nightly to feed. They can then either be intercepted or marked into some cover, and after wards beaten out. It is a sport of which a little is great fan : but one soon tires of it, the animals beicg gen erally so easily killed, and famishing neither trophy (an Indian bearskiu beiDg a poor affair), nor food. Most sportsmen ere long oome to agree with the natives and let the adam-zad alone. except when they turn np by accident, Aheat Jockeys. To lure oa tbe lonely. The lorinc aad lonely, and drows them la Joj. Bear Haatlna; la ladla. BT A HOTTER. The common black sloth-bear of the plains of India ( Urtnti labiatut) is very plentiful in the hills on either side of tbe rtarbada, between Jubbuipnr and Mandla. Indeed, there are few parts of these highlands where a bear may not at any time be met with. They are generally very harmless until attacked. living on roots, honey and insects, hiefly white ants, which they dig out of their hillocks. The natives call them adam-xad, or "sons of men," and con sidering them half human, will not as a role molest them. Really, their ab surd antics almost justify the idea. Sometimes, however, a bear will attack very savagely without provocation generally when they are oome upon suddenly, and their road of escape is cut off. As a rale, in frequented parts they do not oome out of their midday retreats, in eaves and dense thickets, until nightfall ; but, in remoter tracts, they may be met with in tne middle of the day. I was once charged by four bears all all at onee, which I had come upon near the high road between Jub bnlphnr and Domoh, feeding nnder a mhowa tree. I had two guns and hit three of them, bnt had to bolt from the fourth, who chased me about a hun dred yards, and then dived ' into a ravine. Jieturning to the scene of ac tion, I found one sitting at the foot of tree, bewailing his fate in the most melancholy whines, and finished him with a ball in the ear. . The other two had gone down the elope of a hill, and started off to bead them. The gronnd rocky and very slippery, and I had not gone far when I fell, my rifle slid- In England the chief jockey is par excellent the manikin of the period Petted like a prima donna and made a companion by sporting lords, his ser vices are intrigued and paid for with a power of diplomacy and at a rate of re muneration known only on "the turf." His movements are chronicled as care fully as those of a priaee of the royal blood. His carte de vUite are in con stant demand. Moreover, he earns a larger income than a Prime Minister. To readers not versed in the ways of racing it may be explained that when a jockey is so fortunate aa to win a race he is paid for his work with a fee of five guineas, but when he is not successful in achieving the first place he only re ceives three guineas. He is likewise paid two guineas for tiding in trials on occasions when it is desirable to ascer tain the power of some horses to win a particular race. A few jockeys seldom heard of as winners of races, earn a great deal of money by riding trials. Payment for trials is sometimes, how, ever, included in the retainer a jockey gets irom nis master. Jockeys of ce lebrity are often retained bv noblemen and gentlemen specially to ride their horses in preference to those of other competitors, for which thev receive handsome wage or retaining fee. in ad dition to the usual payments for their services in tue saddle, win or lose. The fees earned by a successful jockey, speaking roundly, form the least portion of his income, as the presents given him by owners of horses and numerous "admirers" in the shape oi betters, wno nave backed his mounts are Irequent and valuable. Gold watches, diamond rings and breastpins set with rubies, riding horses, dog carts ana yachts, as well as suits of clothes, new hats, boxes of clears and cases of champ-igne. are freqnentlv be stowed on jockeys who win important races. A noted professional horseman of ten years ago received in two sea sons as many boxes of cigars as wonid have stocked a modest shop. The same lad waa also presented in the course of his career which, although oi snort duration, was exceedingly snc cessfol with eleven gold watches (he always used a silver one) and seven finger rings set with diamonds, as well as with other valuable jewels. Money gifts to successful jockeys are now, however; the order of the day, and that such gifts are often of great magnitude there is abundant evidence to show. It la well known, for instance, in turf cir cles that the jockey who rode Bosebery (tne cnief jockey), the winner of the last Cteurewitch at Xew-market, was presented by the owner of the horse with a check for 1.000 : a similar sum was given to the jockey who rode the winner of the Cambridgeshire, which rice was aU o won I y Bjat-be r . Such sums, large as they undoubtedly are. extravagant as they may indeed appear in tne eyes of non-racing people have been more than once bestowed for work well done on the race course. So far back as the year 1824 Benjamin Smith was presented with a testimonial of nearly 1,000, subscribed for by a num ber of persons, on tbe occasion of his admirable riding of Jerry in the great St Leger Stakes at Do n caster. Ten years ago the jockey who rode the win ner of the sensational Derby of that period was presented by the owner of Hermit, the winning horse, with a sum of 3,000. Another gentleman cave him what in racing parlance is called a "monkey," which is 000. while a present of 100 was bestowed by a third person. Numerous offerings of lesser value, as also some rifts of jewelry, were likewise sent to the hero of the race, who is said to have netted over 1,000 by his exertions on that one occasion, which is about double the sum paid to Sir Walter Scott for writ ing his celebrated poem of the "Ladv of the Lake.' Temple Bar. The Pretty Market Gir: Cheap Batter. Commercial enterprise in England takes many forms. A soap-boiler, sit ting in his counting-house a short time since, was waited npon by a drummer, and was asked what nse he made of some peculiar refuse from his factory. "Get rid of it," said the soap-boiler, "in the easiest way I ean. I generally pay to have it taken away, and am very glad to get rid of it on those terms' "Well. then. I snppose." said the trav eler, "you would have no objection to let me have it upon a contract for three years, at a small payment?" "Cer tainly not." said the soap-boiler. "If yon will guarantee to take it away at my tune. . . x ne two eame to terms and tbe contract was drawn no and sinned in due form. Payment for the first quarter was made, and over a class of sherry the soap-boiler asked his visitor out of mere euriosity, what he did with the rubbish. "Well, in confidence," said the traveler, "I don't mind tell ing yon. We want it to make cheap butter." . Cincinnati boasts of a centenarian In tbe person of Mrs. Angela Onetto, better known as Podesta. who Is in the 109th year of her age. This venerable lady is probably tbe oldest persou In Ohio. "Dear me 1 I'm sure 1 don't know what to do ; if ever anybody was in fix I'm in one now." "What is it, auntie, can't I help yon out of your fix 7 "sakee alive I no, Lntie dear, yon can t help me one bit. "Now, don't say that, auntie ; I'm certain I can be of service to yon you will only allow me. Why, I've bean here a whole week, and Fve done nothing but uress, read, eat and sleep, and I'm as useless as the staffed owl npon the bookcase in the library, and more in the way. "Whv. child 1" and good Mrs. Bently stopiieu in her work of preparing turkey for the market, and looked lov ingly upon her neioe. "1 don't like to hear yon talk that way. Why, bless your dear heart, the loved child of m dead sister can never be in my way. "Well, auntie, I shall not feel like coming out here to spend another Thanksgiving if yon will not allow me to be of some service during my stay, Come, tell me all about your fix and see if I am not worth something besides running around and amusing myself while other people are making them selves useful." "Ob, Lntie ! there is nothing you can do, although I II tell yon all about it to pacify you. ' Yon see, all this poultry and a lot of batter and eggs were to be delivered to-day in the city for the day after to-morrow is Thanks giving : and Jones, oar hired, man sick with a cold, and can't leave his bed ; your nncle is sway, and won't be till to-morrow night, aud how nnder tbe sun I am going to deliver these things according to contract, is more than I can tell." To Mrs. Bently's surprise, Lntie clapped her hands and danced around the room crying "Just the thing 1 capital ! capital 1" "What on earth do you mean, child? she managed to say, at last. "Wtr, that I will go to the market and deliver the goods myself. Now don't say one word, auntie," she con tinned as her aunt elevated her hands and opened her month as if to give vent to an "Oh 1" "Don't say one word ; the idea just suits me, and I am determined to go if you will allow me she added. What, you ! the dangtber and heir ess of Judge Haines ? Tou, the belle of the city, going to market with turkeys, butter and eggs I 'Yes, auntie, and I can do it just as well as Jonas would. Sow don t op pose me 7 lnat s a good, deer soul. Mrs. Bently really felt distressed to know how to fulfil her contract, and was thankful for the prospect of assist ance, but she could hardly reconcile herself to tbe idea that her niece, the beauty and heiress of whom she was proud, should perform the role of market girl. Lntie s arguments, however, pre vailed, and she went to her room to prepare for her expedition. Borrow ing a short dress from tbe "help" she donned it and then folded a shawl in the shape of a mantle across hershoul ders, and with her rich tresses hanging over her shoulders, she looked like lovely country girl. Placing a dainty bat upon her bead, she tripped down to the kitchen for her aunt's inspec tion. "Well, I do declare !" exclaimed that wortbv ladv "whoever would know you ? Why, Lutie, If I had met yon face to face I shonld never have guessed it was yon if 1 hadn t known. "I am glad to hear you say so auntie for I don t propose to be recognized by any one. Oh, 'twil be rare fun," and with a gay laugh she waltzed outcf the room. "Are the things ail ready 7 she asked, stopping to take breath. les, but the old horse must be har nessed : can yon do it ? "1 don t know, auntie, 1 think so : at least 1 can try. She skipped away to the stable, and after a half hoar's patient toil she led old Billy up to the door, all harnessed and attached te the wagon. In a short time the said wagon was filled with the important articles for somebody's Thanksgiving, and Lutie climbed to the high seat, took the reins and whip with a flourish which would have done credit to a coachman. "Have you got some warm gloves ?" asked Mrs. Bently. "Nothing bnt kid, but they will be warm enough." "No, indeed, they won't ; wait a mo ment. She hastened into the house and brought out a pair of woolen mit tens. "Here, put those on, Lutie, yon will need them, for it is very cold." Lutie obeyed, and the plump little bands looked exceedingly "funny, as the young lady expressed it. In a few moments more, having received her in structions, Lutie drove away. "Don t forget to deliver those four largest turkeys at Colonel Ormsby's," called out her aunt. "Oh, no ; but yon haven't told me where he lives," said Lntie, stopping and waiting for the information. "I declare, I don t know, bnt yon can find out at the market where yon are to deliver the rest." "I think I can find it " replied Lutie and drove off. In due time she arrived at the market Explaining the cause of her coming, she delivered the articles that were to go there, and then inquired for the res idence of Colonel Ormsby. I cannot tell yon miss, replied the proprietor ; but if you'll step into that restaurant on the corner. I think yon will find out" Lntie hesitated ; shonld she allow herself to enter a third-class saloon, where she wonld be likely to come in contact with low fellows who make such places tboir daily resort ? In a moment she decided to go. Lightly she tripped across the street. and of the slovenly looking girl behind the counter she made her inquiry. "l don t know, myself, miss, bnt if yon will wait a few minutes I'll go into the kitchen and ask one of the girls who used to live there. , Again Lutie hesitated. She disliked the idea of remaining here even for a few minutes. What if some of her ac quaintances should chance to pass, snd lookmg in, recognize ner 7 Seeing she hesitated the girl said : If you don t like to wait here. - yon ean step into the sitting room," Lntie confessed she wonld rather go in, so the girl threw open the door of the sittirg room and Lutie entered bnt started back and almost fainted, for there, seated at a table, with a bottle of some kind of liquor before bim, and a half-emptied, glass in his hand, she be held Leon Lancaster, her aflianeed hus band. , , "Ho I ho ! my pretty one." he eried. rising and coming toward her with a drunken leer npon his face which made him actuallv loathsome. "What do yon fear that yon luck so alarmed ? will not harm vou ; come, give me I kiss." "Back 1" she eried. raising her hand "Ah I the ltttle beauty is going to be dignified, isn't she ? bnt yon must be more kind ; give me a kiss." "Back. I say I or I will call assistance. I merely came to make an inquiry of one of the servants, and did not expect to meet a drunken villain. "How spirited she is. I like that,' he said, stooping and picking up a mit ten she had dropped. "Ah !" he eon- tinned, starting back, as he noticed magnificent ring she wore npon her for finger, "where did yon get that ring ? Let me see it, won't you ?' "No, 1 will not." "Where did yon get it ?" "It matters not now, since I came by it honestly. I will give it to you the next time I see yon ?" "Bnt I must see it now," and he stepped toward her. "Stand back I" "I will see that ring. "You shall not, air 1" "We will see." So saying he caught her by the shoulder, but as quick as wink the lit tle hand came down with a smarting blow npon his cheek. "Ill have a kiss for that, I swear 1" he cried ; and holding her fast, he pressed kiss after kiss upon her lips. At length, by a violent effort, she freed herself from his grasp and rushed from the room, when he called after her : "I shall keep the mitten, mv dear. until we meet again." "lne girl now entered the front shop whither Lutie had fled from the em brace of Leon Lancaster. She re ceived the desired information and hur ried away. she completed her business and drove home minus one mitten, bat she was so thoroughly angry that she did not notice that one hand was nnmb with the cold when she got there. Thanksgiving day arrived, and with it numerous guests came to enjoy the good old festivities at Farmer Bon t It's. Lntie had taken a fancy to spend the week with her auntie, and when she left her city home for that pnrpose, it was understood that Leon Lancaster should come out and take dinner with her on Thanksgiving Day. As he was Lutie's affianced husband, he was of coarse a great favorite of Mr. Bently. Before the dinner hour arrived Lntie went to her room to dress. Hurry down, Lutie." said her aunt for the company have nearly all arrived and I wish to introduce yon before dinner to those with whom yon are unacquainted." I will, auntie ; and here let me beg of yon not to find fault with my dress when I come down," said Lntie. "Of course not. child : wear what pleases yon ; only be quick for Leon will soon be here." Lntie bounded away wearing a queer expression npon her beautiful face, and Mrs. Bently bustled sway to watch tbe progress ol the preparation for dinner. la a few moments a stylish turnout drove np to the door, and Leon Lan caster, looking strikingly handsome, in elegant attire, sprang out, and after being cordially greeted by Mr. Bentlv. entered the house, where Mrs. Bently met Lim, escorted him into the parlor and introduced him to the guests a ready there assembled. "W here is Lutie Y he asked, show ing the least particle of annoyance that she had not been there to greet hin when he first came. She is in her room finishing her toilet, 1 suppose, she will be in in minute, replied Mrs. Bently. As she left tbe parlor and passed through the hall, Lutie came tripping down stairs. .Mrs. Bently gave one glance at her attire and exclaimed : "Why, Lutie Haines, are yon crazy? "Never more sane in my life, auntie. ill yon present me to your guests now ? "What do you mean, Lutie ?" ever mind: til explain after: a while," said Lutie. She word the same costume in which she had gone to the market two days before. Upon one hand she wore one of tbe mittens which Mrs. Bently had urged her to wear npon the occasion re ferred to. Mrs. Bently offered no further oppo sition, and led the way to the parlor, followed by Lutie, whom she intro duced to the party assembled. A portion of them looked with sur prise npon the costume of Lutie, and others noticed only the rare beauty of her face. She greeted them with a qqeenly graceful bow, and advancing to Leon Lancaster she said : Mr. Lancaster, I think I promised at onr last meeting that when next we should meet I would exchange this ring for the mate of this mitteu," and she removed the gemmed circlet from her finger. He started to his feet. "Great Heaven !" he cried, turned pale, "what does this mean ?" "It means, air, that 1 am the person whom you met in a low restaurant on street, and whom yon so grossly insulted, mistaking mn for a poor market girl. It was a freak of fancy which prompted me to assume this dress and take some things to market for auntie, as nncle was away and her hired man was ill. I shall always thank my lucky stars that I was led to do so, for thereby I learned your true character," she replied, her beautiful eyes flashing looks of withering scorn and contempt npon him. "Lntie, there is some mistake about this. I " "Sav no more, sir ; I am not mis taken ; I saw you there in a state of in toxication and yon grossly insulted me; aye, yon even dared to lay violent hands on me. Here is yonr ring: take it; I never wish to see you again I" and she flung the bauble at his feet and swept from the room. When she returned in a short time after, dressed in her becoming attire, aud looking regally beautiful, the seat which Leon Lancaster had occupied was vacant. She entered with zest into the fes tivities and rejoiced that she had been saved from marrying a man wholly un worthy to bear the name of husband. sitz, they fought a!mot to the point of extermination, and offered a moral re sistance wheu that of arm no longer availed. 1'he Northern Wends accord ingly cease to have a history of their own after one or twoceiituriss. Those of the Elbe and the Spree alone survive in the little colony of the Lausitz swamps, aud in the memory of a brave but useless struggle for altar and home. Their strange repugnance to the new civilization, the brave, prolonged, and desperate warfare which they waged against it, the sullen and apparently organic incapacity to discard their pe culiar habit.- and character even after they ceased to defend them by force, suggest so many points of resemblance to the North American Indians; and in the fate of both people there is the same element of plaintive and romantic sad ness which appeals to every generous heart. The Wends were carried into North ern Germany by the vast movement of people which took place in the fourth and fifth centuries of the Christian era. As fast as the Suevi. Franks, and other original German tribes swept over the Rhine and down uiwui the fair domains of the Roman Empire, their places were filled by other barbarians from the vast plain, of Asia. In tho adjustment oi these races in the West it hapiened that the SclavesorSclavouian acquired nearlv the whole region tmiu the tlb eastward, including Silesia, Poland, Prussia, and much of what is now Kus- sia. 1 hese were not, in leetl all emls. This term seems to have been given bv the Saxons to such Sclaves as were their immediate neighbors in Northern Germany, and was hardly derived from any corresoiiding distinction made by the Sclaves themselves. The Wends were also further subdivided into local families, such as the Lutritaus and Att orn tan. Bv the fifth centurv the Wends were firnilv settled in their new homes. In culture and refinement, in the arts and convenience of life, in agriculture, trade and other industries, they were not behind the Saxon, their neighbors. Thev liveil in towns and village, and possesed a rude system of civil gov ernment. Ih"ir domestic Institution revealed but too often their Oriental origin, and in no respect more pain fully than the position given to woman. She was little more than a menial. Polygamy prevailed. Mothers often strangled their female infants to save them from a more painful life; and in the same way decrepit parents were put to death by their sons, as in More' I'tnpia, because, thev were burdens upon the public, and a violent end insured a happier life beyond the grave. But they were a remarkably honest people, abhorred a thief or a liar, and were kind to the poor. They were no less warlike than their German predecessors. On land or sea, mounted or on foot, in the opeu field, in the swamps, or behind their forti fied towns, they fought clumsily, but bravely and desjterately. Their weap ons were not unlike thoe of their neighbor in style and quality. Their religion was a species of poly theism. They believed, indeed, in one supreme fixl Belbog: but he seems to have been a Selavie Jove among le-r divinities, such a i 'zernbeog. the evil spirit, and Kadegat. the god of war. Other branches of the Sclaves had other rsls, for no universal svtem existed. The priests enjoyed great honor and power, and they were the mo-t re I ute in oition to the German. That which the latter firt demanded was conversion to C hristianity .t de mand which could not lie agreeable to the interpreters of the rival religion. 1'iiriiig two centuries the Wends Knd Saxon lived at cace, and even in frieudliip. The commerce of the for mer, which began with jM-tty local traffic, rose to a scale almost iiiiMing along the Baltic eoat. It i aid that three hundred hiis were sometimes seen in their harbor ol Wenita. Traders flocked thither from Denmark, from Germany, from other Sclavonic land, and even from the Orient, bringing metallic wares, cloths, jewel, and coins, ami carrying away .-miner. lurs. and similar goods. In the middle of the eleventh centurv the citv of Wenita was captured by the Dane, and Wend ish commerce then rapidlv decayed and died. lUu-r' M'tijiiziite- The Tklcvlaa; Mania. The Pnuaiaa Wends. This title describes the remnant of a people once numerous, warlike, and powerful, and the region where they a refuge centuries ago from the con quering arms of the Germans. It is. indeed, the only colony which retains any thing of tne ancient speech and habits. Elsewhere the Wends accepted the German religion, language, aud laws, and gradually lost their distinc tive character, as iu Pomerauia, Meck lenburg, and other provinces: or, as in the Mark of Brandenburg and in Lau- Dr. Gall mentions having seen a per son in prison at llibnrg, who had set Are to his house four times in succes sion, and who, after he had set fire to it, tried to put it out. Some have an Irresistible desire to steal, without any other mark of insanity. Gall says that the first King of Sweden was always, stealing trifles. Instances are mentioned of a German who was constantly pilfer ing, and of another who, having the desire to steal, entered the army, hoping the severe discipline there would re strain him. But he gave way to the propensity even there, and was very near being hanged, ne then became a friar, with the same hope; but he still felt the same desire, and carried all the things he could to his cell; but as he could only get trifles, he was not noticed. Gall also mentions that a per son at Vienna, in the babit of stealing, hired a lodging in which to deposit his thefts; and when he got a stock, he sold them. He stole only houehold matters. The wife of a celebrated phy sician at Leyden never went into a shop to buy anything without stealing; and countess at Frankfort had tlio same propensity. Another lady, notwith standing all the care with which she had been brought up, had the same de sire to pilfer. Tou will find it related of a physician, that his wife was always obliged to examine his pockets in the evening, and restore to his patients the things she found there. He always took something as well as his fee. MeriU speaks of a criminal who, at the moment he was ataut to be executed. stole the confessor's snuff-box. Dr. Burner, who was oue of the physicians to the King of Bavaria, ieaks of a per son who enjoyed abundance, aud had been well educated, but who, notwith standing, was always stealing; and was made a soldier by his father, and at last got hanged. The son of a cele brated and learned man himself very clever, and respectably connected Iu every respect could not resist thi propensity; and I could goon to furnish yon with instances without end of in dividuals who acted thus (a it would appear) from insanity ; not from any criminal motives, but from a bold desire too strong for them to resist. Elder Evans, the leader of the Le banon Shakers, has started a graveyard on a new plan. T e graves are to be twenty feet apart, with a tree planted over each, so that in time there will be a handsome grove. I! i 1 i
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers