V V BF. SOHWEIER, THE OOISTITTJTIOI-TEB UU0I-1ID THE UTOEOEHEIT OP THE LATTS. Editor and Proprietor. i ii i . '. VOl,. XL. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA.. WEDNESDAY. FEBRU ARY 17, 18S6. NO. 8. No GutKl-iiigltt Kim. A tbree-yrar maid, of baby charmt, Epitome of bliss. At close of da j to mother' arms Came for her good-night kiss. "Tou were a naughty girl to-day, Who would not do the right; The little girl who can't obt?y I caunot kiss good-ntght!" Tbe little mouth, it trembled so; The bright eye held a tear; She raid, "but jvt Kill kiss km, though In the morning, mama, dear?" "Yes, in the morning, when tou call." Ah! childish grief are deepl She turned her (air face to the wall And wept herself to sleep. She woke not liere: Death called her name, To wake in Il- aven instead: And when, at dawn, tbe mother came, She found her darling dead. 0 mother-heart! thy wrong confessed. What is thine anguish now? She clasped the dead face to ber breast, Kl-soU lips and eyes and brow. 0 grleTing heart! What can atone? Mothers, remember this: Send no child to sleep's land unknown Without a good-night kiss. SO BODY'S SOX. jes, Aorjoay's.xmi iou lave Known Aim in bis prosperity, though you may not be aware of it; but of tbe struggles of bis boyhood you know nothing. The bottle stands; pass it. Permit me to tell you bis story, gentlemen. A ragged Ltd, tr-jure and grimy, be stood in a doorway almost too low to admit bim, and inside there was writ ten "poverty, hunger, and dirt." The boy's eyes wandered iu a hopeless man ner from a slatternly woman crouch ins over the hearth, to the figure of a man lantern-visaged, hollow-eyed, who lean ed against the doonost beside bim. "Will, my lad, dost hear?" "Ay. But where am I to go to?" "Where thee likest. Come, out with thy fist; there's three bob, and I ca-i ill spare it. Xow, go thy ways; be honest and dont lie; but remember that we have done with thee for all evers." Tbe lad lock the money and turned away. In a few minutes be came back again. "Give me a name," he said, looking up into the man's sallow face, "every doz has a name." "But every brat picked up in tbe gutter hasn't." Suddenly the woman rose up from ber crouching posture, and came for ward. "J bad a name once, so long ago that it's well nigh forgot Dunna send the lad away, John; I picked bim up, and he's crowed to my heart's Kkt. Dunna." "Bother!" returned ber husband. Who's to fill his mouth and cover his back? Cut! be off.' march!" "I've not got a friend in the world!" cried out the lad, as be trudged through the muddy bines which led from bis old home "not one in the world." And tbe rain that pattered down from the housetops repeated it doggedly, "Xot one!" "I'm all in rags and dirt," be said, as he reached the broader street) and stared about bim, and a peal ot bells rung out and echoed it merrily, "Kags and dirt, rags and dirt!" "Cut, be off, march!" repeated the boy. "But where shall I march? Every body's busy here, there's no room foi me. What am I to do?" He passed a pastrycook's shop tempting and rich he was hungry, and his fingers wan dered to tbe shilling') in bis pocket wistfully. All at once an idea came to him, and bis eyes glistened. One poor little marble table stood in a dim corner, but it did Lot seem to at tract any one much. "Now, my boy. What is it?" "That un, and that un, and this un,' said the bid, indicating with a singu larly dirty finger the particular dainties he wished to stow away. "I say, you move off. AViil you? I'll teach you to finger things here, you dirty young rascal. March!" He held out his shillings despairingly. "Oh! that's another thing," said the man. "Come, say what you want, but keep your fingers off." "Give us one in," said tbe ltd, watching with his anxious eye every delicacy put into the little basket. "I want to sell 'em." The man looked at bim and laughed, but one more pitiful come up and look ed at him too. "Give him some," be said, angrily. 'You know the price if he's going to sell." The young merchant left tbe shop with a sob still sticking In bis throat, lie tramped the streets and pushed his basket at the passers by, some gave him an angry look, some a poke with a stick or a sharp-pointed elbow. Two cakes be had sold realizing tbe sum of three halfpence, when he sat himself down on the steps of St. Faul'3 Cathedral, and gradually as the sun grew bot and hot ter, his head dropped lower and he slept An hour afterwards, the same ragged urchin darkened the door of the pastry cook's shop, where the one inaible table stood still desolate in its corner. "What, here again, my fine fellow? Come, off with you; march!" It was very odd. "March!" had been ringing in his ears all day. and here it came again. Was everybody going to tell him to march, and where on earth was he going to march to? Great tear-marks covered his face, red and smudged with dirt, as he turn ed towards his former advocate. "I went an sl-p. and somebody's gone and prigged 'em." It seemed as if the perpetual "march" were comiug from bis mouth too, but the owner thereof changed his mind, and examined the face with its grimy tear-marks. "Wboare vou? What's vour name?" "Xame, Johu." "John what?" asked the man. "Mm march," stammered the lad looking round despondingly; lor be had a misty sort of idea that it was a hang ing matter to have no name, and that was the only one he could thing of. "John March, where 's your lather?" "Xowheres." "Your mother?" "Ain't got none," "Whose son are you?" "Nobody's." "Wtjre did you get that money?" "It vi given me by them as picked me up a little 'un and can't keep me no longer: indeed it was." A fresh burst of sobs followed this speech, am. when the questioner put a fresh basket of eatables into tbe dirty hand held out to receive it, they came faster than ever, for the lad didn't know what to say he was so glad. He was told that be must come back and pay his debts when tbe basket was empty, which be promised, with a cu rious mixture of sobs aud chuckles. , John March did come back, holding the money in his band and tn-innlnir He replenished his basket: he came again, day after day; he brought a larger basket and a cleaner face; be was getting on. in spite or tbe rain which pattered down "no friend, not one" in spite of the bells that clamored out. rags and dirt, rags and dirt," he was getting on. Out of the pocket of his ragged jacket peered a ragged spelling book; at corners of streets, on steps, at crossings, he studied it. He was get ting on. For a while we will leave John March with his basket and the ragged books in nis cneeriess lodging. We will go oacK a uttie and enter a very different scene; light and warmth meet us. com fort and luxury have made their abode here, in this room where a man in the prime of bis life sits, dressing-gowned and slippered, before bis desk. But no pleasant thoughts are passing through his mind, and it is with ber he is angry Why, to him she is a child still, a mere infant, bow dare she t' ink of such things as falling in love and marriage? How dare she suffer tbe young spend thrift vagabond to speak to.hiui on the suojecir "When, after all these years of care," goes on tbe father, his tone deepening, "all this painstaking, toiling early and late, with the happiness of my child near to my heart, hoping for it, yearn- ing after it, this beardless rake comes forward to demand my purse, and I am to say calmly. 'Take it. with ray bles sing!" When I have listened to the voices of my mills, aud thought bow pleasantly they sang, hoping always she bids me give them up. and what they have brought me, for this spend thrift suitor to make ducks and drakes of. Xever, never never. .Listen to me. and understand, lou see this niau no more; you never take so much as his name up n your bps. There came a faint cry from the pale girls lips as she stood there a moment uncertain. Bending before him till ber hair touched the hand wandering so restlessly amongst the papers, she strove to take it in her own and plead with him; but be drew it back coldly ana nastily. "Once more," sobbed tbe girl; "only let me see bim once more to say good- Dye." "Still for bim!" called out the mill- owner, bitterly. "Pleading for him I am nothing; this is gratitude and duty. l say to you see bim no more. So be turns to bis desk again, know ing net la it trial and temptation are about bis daughter, that the voice of ber lover is in her ear, pleading with her, urging her to fly with him. How can she listen? Oh. but she loves him. she loves him! and it so hard to think of never seeing bim again, never bearing bis voice. It is so hard to have no one to love! Aud be tells her that when they are married they will come back, and be so submissive that he cannot fall to for give. Tbe old tale, the old music, and she loves bim. Think of it now, old man, silting alone in the midst of riches; think of it as you consult the watch and look around you. Yes, you are right; it grows late, bedtime; but there is no gentle good night for you, no kiss for you to-night, but that sorrowful one which trembled on the band which holds the watch-key. Oh, put it to vour lips for the memory of that kiss. for those pleading tears, for the wistful eyes! iiimk or it now! Jn his old lodging, retained perhaps from the force of habit, perhaps be cause he liked to think of those first days of struggle and failure, hope and fear. John March sat with his lamp a twisted wick of paper floating on oil in a cracked teacup and bis books. This lodging is a room, with five so-called beds and accommodations for ten lodg ers; but he had portioned off his own particular corner with tattered sheets, paying double for it; and keeping it to himself, study and sleeping-room in one. Sitting there however to-night over a worn history for tbe spelling-book had been superceded long ago John March grew restless. In the bed nearest his corner there was a moaning sound, coming at intervals, feeble and despair ing. John couldn't stand this; be drew aside his curtain and looked out. Scantily clothed, but yet in remnants of a richer time, pale, hollow-eyed, mere sat a woman, who looked at him even as he looked at ber, but there was only misery in her eye. John came out from his retreat. ' AVas she ill?" She shook ber head drearily. "Could be do anything for her, get anything?" "Xo." "There is plenty of misery here," said John, "but yours seems a bad case. Can't you trust me?" The woman turned ber large eyes up on him wistfully. "Here is my sick ness," she said, turning down the cor ner of a ragged cloak of fine cloth which she had taken from ber own shoulders. Under it, gathered close to her heart, lay a sleeping child some six or seven years old. John touched the warm, rosy cheek compassionately, aud put off a brown curl that was straying across it "It is all over with me," said the woman. "I am dying but this is worse than death." "I am but a poor lad," said John, straugely touched by the soft tones and gentle speech so new to him. "but I am honest, indeed. Tell me about it, and see if I can't do something." The woman put out her left band, where glittered in tbe rays of his lamp the wedding-ring. Cautiously she put it out and then covered it up again. "It is the only thing I have left; I couldn't pawn that. Yes, I will tell you all, for I am dying. I have known that long; but to night it is near near. Liften. then!" Tbe wick floats on its oil and grows dim, but dawn is breaking for the hol low eyed woman whose head falls back on John's arm, whose fading sense re ceives his promise to care for the little one sleeping on quiet and unconscious while her mother dies. Think of it, now. oh, maa of mills and ledgers, think of it! "But," says John in a startled whis per, "the name, the name, how am I to And out " A raint light comes into tbe glazing eyes and a movement to tbe blue lips. "Seek out a mill owner, named ' Xo more, John, the light Is come,dawn has broken. Shut up the eyes tenderly lay her back gently to rest ia her rags, and take the sleeping child from her bosom. And John rose from beside the dead slowly, his heart touched, his nature soitened. He had to consider about bis stock of mosey in the hands of that first benefactor in the pastrycook's shop, who had never lost sight of bim, nor ceased to befriend bim: he had to think whether be bad been foolishly weak and thoughtless; he had to seek his landlady and leave the child in her charge, promising payment, till he could seek out his friend and take coun sel. A trusty counsellor that green one or the pastrycook's, a loving heart in side its plain case, a true and stead fast friend. Ohl there are good hearts in this world of ours that men call so bad, staunch hearts and kindly, ready to sorrow for another's grief, ready to lend a helping hand to the fallen. With this friend's help, a home was fonnd for the child, and burial for its mother; with his help John's hands were strengthened and his will con firmed to care for the orphan as a sis ter, with bis help, efforts were made to find out tbe mill-owner, but they were unsuccessful. We let the years pass .in, while the ragged books give place t better ones. secondhand, but good and clean; while the lodging is changed, and John March has passed, with his friend's help, from an errand boy to a clerk in a merchant's office. But John was restless, a bad sign, said bis friend. Xot so. He bad a wish to go amongst the manufactur ers; be bad heard of "Wanted a clerk. in a mill-owner's counting-house; and his friend, knowing his meaning shook bis bead in compassion for a hopeless case. He got the clerkship, however and then his l ttle sitter was taken from the cheap schools where she had been Hitherto, and placed in a higher one. John's wants were few, and littls suf ficed for them. His first interview with his new master was not in the counting-house,but in bisowndrawlng room, a gorgeous place, where luxury and riches stared at hi in as an intruder and askod what he wanted there. And the great chief of the firm, a white-haired man, morose and gloomy, questioned lnni, and read bis reference and testi- onials. Such a clmd hung about tbe man. such a heavy, oppressive air there was in the rich hangings, and the mas sive splendor of the pictures and mir rors, that a weight passed from the clerk's heart as he left the room and breathed the fresh air out jide. But it needed all John's hopeful spirit to make light work of this. The very business seemed to have no life in it; tbe counting house labored under a cloud, the books, the stools, tbe win dows themselves looked dead; nothing was alive but tbe mice, and even they seemed to scamper about more softly when the bead himself entered. John worked on steadily in the cloud now and then going to see his little sister in her school; and the mill-owner cold eye marked out his habits with ap proval, lie rose: be dropped tbe word clerk for manager. He talked a little with his chief and with others; he was observant and thoughtful, taking note of things which would seem to have no interest for him. It was strange how, looking from time to time upon tbe mill-owner in bis dead atmosphere, and working on in the cloud, the idea rose in John's mind and grew up till it presented Itself to him its a tangible fact, that bis search was ended here, his aim attained. So strong was this conviction, that if bis principal had suddenly said In his ear the words to verify it, he would have felt no surprise, but have taken them as natural and words of course. And sitting there, working out his idea, while his nngers were busy, no wonder tilled his mind when there fluttered down before bim, from leaves so little akin to it, a scrap of paper yellow and musty, and the delicate lines traced en it faiut with age. "U e only beg for forgiveness. If you would but believe this, my dear father I ask nothing more; I love you so much 1 feel so deeply how wrong I have been. ly take off the heavy consciousness of your displeasure only say you for give." There lay the conviction which bad been growing within bim, verified. l ben John March left the counting- bouse; bouse roofs lowered down about bim, grey in the evening light; men and woman talked, and he heard them, and It seemed as if in all the great world none had so hard a thing to do as he had. It was ten vears now since the hol low-eyed woman lay quietly back in her rags to rest in the cheerless lodging, and Sohn March went again to see bis little sister. He stoed with her on the hearth, her hand in his and her bead on his shoulder; for she called him brother, and knew no better. He drew back bis hand and put away tbe stray curl that fell across ber cheek, as it bad done that night ten ytlrs ago. 'Emmy, little one," Yes John." 'You are old enough, now, to leave school."- She nodded, gravely, but did not speak. "1 must take you home." "Where is that?" 'I have something to tell yoj. Emmy." She looked at him, wondenngly. smiling a little at his grave seriousness. But be raised her bead from his shoul der, still gravely looking into the fire. 'Emmy, I am not your brother." She drew back from him then in earnest, pale and red by turns, half hoping be jested with her. It is true," said John. "What are you, then?" "Nothing. I am no relation to yon." "Xo relation! Xothing! Ohl John." Tears gathered slowly in ber eyes as she looked at him; they rolled down ber cheeks and fell silently. Still look ing away from ber, he put out bis band but Emmy did not move. "Xo relation nothing I And you have been so good all I have in the woiU. I cannot bear it." "You do care for me, then?" said John. "Care for youl" she replied. "Ohl I do, I do. Ought not I to care for you my brother r iei me can you my brother." 'Call me your friend," said John, holding out bis band, and clasping fast the little one placed in it. 'But I want my brother," said Emmv. "How can I do without my brotVr?' He passed his band over the brown head gently; he bent down and kissed her forehead tenderly as a brother might do. "Come, then, Emmy," said he. "Where?" she Inquired. "You must trust raj," said John. 'Your brother still, if you wi 1 have it so. I am going to take you noma, and on tbe way you shall hear all I have, to tell." In the room where the millowner sits the cloud hangs heavily. You may see it in the sombre shadows, in tfhe solemn upngat candies, in tbe st oia nana ciasping nis crow, while foe ara other rests on his desk. Tan may see it in the hair, blanched but dull, in tbe overhanging brows, in the hard lines about the mouth, in the stiff chair, the straight uncrossed legs and slippered feet. There was a time when a touch on his hand, Itears, a loving kiss, bad no power to move him. lie feels them now they burn aim, thev worry bim. He strikes tbe hand in his angry self- reproach or his pride. He bears tbe sob, the pleading voice he hears the rustle of her dress as she moves away. and be turns to watch the door open and shut after her. Where is she? There was a time when letters came to him one after another, tear-blistered blotted. What bad he done with them? How cold the room is how dull tbe light! How heavily the cloud gathers down about bim! bow his money rises np before him! bow the- spectre bills and bonds dance and flutter before his eyes, and heaps of yellow sovereigns glitter down there amongst the coals to mock bimi So heavy is the cloud this evening, that he bears sounds faintly through it-approaching footsteps which pause at the door footsteps which en tera voice which speaks to him, stir ring the mist but faintly. John March, the manager, is there before bim. Away all tbe spectres! business. How cold the room is! how dull and hard his eye, as he turns to his manager! "I have asked to speak to you at an unusual hour," be?an John aud the great man waved bis band as an ac knowledgment of the crime, and a gra cious pardou for it " at an nnusual hour, for my business is unusual. I have that to tell which may interest you. Will you hear me?" A little raising to the heavy eyelid, a little dilating ot the leaden nostril, and the great man bows bis assent, and points to a chair. Xo.'John will stand. "Years ago, be says, "when I was obscure and ienniless, when I had In the world only bop3 and courage, when I had for longing a wretched room, where night after mzht others, obscure aud penniless to, stretched themselves on tbe floor to rest as they could, and where often a brother or a sister crawled in only to die" (here there was a slight change of position in the leaden man, and a gesture of im pailence) "there came to this place of wretchedness," continued John, watching him, "a woman, faiut and worn, old in looks but young in years, rags to cover her, despair to nourish her. Prom her finger she held it out, the golden circlet rolled,, and would have fallen but for her jealous care of it, so wasted were those fingers. I did what I could." Another impatient gesture and a smothered ejaculation. "She bad come from Italy, working her way back as she could, for her husband was dead. She told me how the marriag-e was a stolen one; bow she left her father's house stealthily by night, bow she reiented, and wished to tell bim so; how she wished to tell him that even at that mad hour, with her lover's voice iu ber ear, pleading, the remembrance of a kind word from him would have held her back." He paused for tbe leaden mau start el to bis feet, trembling, with tbe cloud about him still. "Give me my daughter," said be. "I would give you " continued JoliD. "Silence! Give me my daughter, repeated the old mau iu his shaky voice. A Mightier has claimed ber. On her rag bed, in the desolate room," said John, looking upon tbe luxuries around bim, "a stranger's hand supported her at last. On my arm ber head fell back when there was no more breath, nor yearning after pardon. Hear me yet" (for the old mau bad sunk upon bis chair again, and was motioning him away.) "Under the cloak, taken from her own poor shoulders, covered up, warm and healthy, there was something else a child, a daughter." "Give ber to me!" exclaimed tbe old man. "How dare you all these years keep it from me? How dare you " "A momeut more." interrupted John looking at the fire, and it was curious that the leaden man's eyes took the same direction. All these years I have been seeking you. Tbe child knew nothing of her mother's story. I took ber, sir,' as my sister; I left her at a school, a good one, lit for ber; she loves me as her brother, she ' "Give her to me!" repeated the old man. "Hear me but another moment," said John. "I want no thanks for what I have done. I am not rich, I am obscure and nameless; but I will make a n imf. I will toil for wealth and win it. Oh listen to me; and think of your own youth think what we have been to each other, my heart is bound up in her." He bent bis head low, looking away from the glance that met his; for in it there was scorn, and anger, and defi ance. Still they stood there silent, op posite each other, listening to the foot steps which sounded now outside listening to the low knock and lie srentle voice listening to the turn of the lock, the opening door, the rustling dress. There seemed to stand then before the old man's eyes the same light form and wistful face he bad been dream ing of, the same earnest glance, but filled with a wondering light as it fell upon them both. "I had a daughter once." said the mill-owner, put'.ing out his band over the fair he:id, "but she forgot her duty and has been forgotten in her turn. This child has come to make amends for her mother's disobedience. I bid her welcome. " He let bis band sink down upon the brown head; he drew her towards him, and put his lips upon her forhead. And all tbe while he was thinking of his great name and his riches, and wishing the girl had been a son to enter Into partnership with him. "I will make her my heiress," he said; "she shall take my name, and we will look about for one fit to be Iter husband." But she turned to John hastily, and sought to bring them together. 'My brother is here, too," she said wistfully. 'For that man," said her grand father, "for the nameless man, the ob scure clerk, who has dared to presume on his services to insult me, let bim name his price for what he has done." "Oh! no, nol" cned out the girl, starting away from the hand which held her. "John, oh, dear John for give him. John don't leave me. It was good to see bow she clung to htm, and he put his arm about her ten? der'.yj bow he comfoit id her and called ber his best beloved, his treasure, there before the old man, who bad no power to prevent it; how he toll hr they must part for the present, but better times would come, and they would never forget each other; how he put ber away from him gently and bade ber i i i a . i l l hope on, as he would to the end. and. come what may, they should meet again. Then without a word to the mill-' Ciccsus was a King of Lydia, who, owner, looking to the last on the treas- oy a lavish display of his wealth, got nre be left, John March, the manager his name in the papers. Historians was gone. disagreed in regard to the manner in Gone to seek out fresh work, alone, ' which-he laid the foundation of his for missing the charge he had hked to think tune, but it is known beyond dispute of at her school; dreaming now and that be did not lay it filling a long felt then of something to be done for her, want with an eight page morning paper and rousing op to the . remembrance in a back county town, that there was no longer any one de-' Crce3us had a father, which did not pendant upon him, no longer any one surprise him when he heard of it, whose to work for. i bonds were registered in the name of j Alyattes. Alyattes was a frugal old When one fixed idea takes possession kiug who never taxed his people more of a man it is strange how it grows and thaa eighty-four cents on the dollar of hardens, and becomes the moving prin- the assessor's valuation, ne took his ciple of his life. All the changes that son Croesus into partnership in the have taken place, since John March reigning business, which was paying the manager left him. have but thick- very well in those days, and as first ened the mist that hangs bitween the assist King Croesus was quite a success mill-owner and his kind. "All these from tbe start. Alyattes was getting weary months, years," thinks the litt!t old and gouty and tired, so be turned one who watches him, sometimes sor- the work pretty much over to Croesus, rowfully, "have but made him harder but continued to take the bigger part as well as older." of the profits. Alyattes took great His white head is whiter; there is a interest in his income and held on to a stoop in his shoulder, there is a queru- dollar with a beautiful and impressive lous infirmitv about his speech, and bis grip. walk is unsteady and weak. But if It wa3 during this partnership ever he was the poteut h"ad of the firm between Alyattes and his promising the great man, bearing a wide-known and industrious son that one of the came, he Is now more so. i humorists of the day remarked in an In her seat at the fireside, silent and unguarded moment that "Lydia had a meditative, Emmy has no thought now pair or Kings that generally took the of loving him or making him love her; pot" The humorist died next morn once she tried, but all bis heart was ing by request at 9.30 o'clock, wrapped in his great name. He brought ! During his active career Alyattes by before ber a b'lsband, whom he willed close attention to business and his ready her to accept, to whom he offered her and vigorous grip, laid by a neat sum pompously as one who had a right to far a reigny day. and when be closed doit; but Emmy laid her head upon bis labors with a funeral in the year 003 ber hands, and said quietly that she B. C. be left Croesus in very comfort would die first, jable circumstances. It is said, how He takes out his watch and winds it; ever, that when Cioeus looked over the he glances at the fire, and murmurs that it is chilly; he says it is bedtime. and Emmy goes np to him, and puts her Iip3 to bis cheek, mechanically, with the customary good night. He s.ts there awhile musing. AH is still aud secure about bim; buc who knows how thick the clouds are getting over L Is head, or bow soon they shall burst down urton him and overwhelm him? All the while he sits there they am darkening ail thn wbiln ho !m un. conscious in his bed they are covering the sky as they do in Joue before a thunderstorm. A little bit of blue re- mains, faint and lessening; when that is gone let bim beware. Another day, with its fresh load of work for the workman, another dawn over the earth. A great blow has and murdered ana piunuerea ana conns stricken the millowner; shortly, those I cated with a grace and dignity of man- who look down the list of bankrupts wiil see the well-known name he ws so proud of, give him a word of sur- prise and compassion, and pass on about their own affairs. And if you go iuto the great man's bedroom, you will see that there is no more blue sky for him. Stretched on bis bed he lies, helpless and speechless, and one-half of him is dead. A sad time in that house, a sad time for a little one who watches at his bed side. She thinks now that she could love him ir he would let her, even yet. she is so sorry for him. When his senses come back partially, aud he tries to speak, with strangs contortions, her arm pillows his bead, her hands minis ter to his wants, and when he looks at her with his hard eyes so earnestly, with such a painful meaning, she strives to comlort him, and bids bim rest and get better, and all will yet be well. "She is his own child, she will never leave him." But it is not that, ob, not that which troubles bim a3 he sinks back with a groan of pain and anger. His lips will not frame the questiou which ho longs and dreads to ask. His name, his great name, and his riches was it all a dream or did some one tell bim that the new manager had ruined him, ruined him utterly ? Draw aside tbe curtain, he is speak ing; he whispers something. "But what a look there is iu his face, as the doc tor bends over him, "Djctorl that villain! vengeance!" How last the watch ticks; bow the doctor's eye keeps on the patient; and bow that look changes, and shadows come upon the face. How the hand clasps aud unclasps, stretching out af ter something which it cannot reach. Another whisper, but, oh! the look n the unclosed eyes now. "Doctor, doctor, what is it, what Is coming? I feel it upon me heavy, like the clamping of a strong box. Bring her to me. Oh, Emmy! I forgive him; save me." Once Emmy is suffered to bend down and kiss him. On ber knees she clings to his hand, and ber tears fall upon it i thick and fast, and she kisses it Look ing at bim there; seeing the shadow on his face; seeing that which cone can mistake so powerful is it, so wither iug, so solemn she falters out trembl ing, 4,Our Father." In whispers he follows her, catching for utteiance, fixing his eyes upon her, as though sifety lay in that. And i then the doctor puts her away gent- ly and closes the door. The Great House is dead, and the world says a few words over its ashes and forgets it. But, who was to com fort little Emmy, left alone there with the dreary weight upon her in the dark-' ened bouse? little Emmy, so grieved for tbe old man who was asleep quietly in the churchyard? In the room where the cloud had been so heavy where the desk still stood in its wonted position; where the foot stool on the hearth spoke of her usual seat, the little one rose up to meet and welcome him whom she called brother. But be asked for a dearer title. Gentlemen, my happiness, and grati tude for it, are yet too fresh to speak cf. As a prosperous merchant you know me. Some amongst you, young men, still struggling perhaps and rind ing up-hill work, I have heard speak despairingly of success, hopelessly of their own efforts, harshly and bitterly against their fellow men, as though they bore a universal grudge whicn cannot be shaken. I have told this story, if haply it may carry encouragement to any heart that is faint m its work. This is not a bad world; there are in it good men and true, kind aud friendly spirits, ready t help a failing brother. I like to think so, I have found it so. Gentlemen, my wife, Emm)', has not long left the table; allow me to present to you John March, tbe pauper, tbe ragged cake venipr Xobodit's Sox. i "A cigar" remarked old Topco', "is like an advertisement; the less n costs, tbe more puffing it want?." Apropos of the encore fiend, it will be just like bin, when the last trump shall sound to demand a repetition. CRCESCS OP LYDIA. $ome or the Characteristic of the Ancient Millionaire. undertakers mil ana saw now mucn it ; cost to bury a great man be was taken ; with a severe chill and therefore ' dreaded death as long as he lived. I Immediately after the funeral of his father Cicesus opened business at the old stand in his own name. He thanked the public for past favors and ventured to hoi for a continuance of i the same. He announced that there I would be no change in the policy of the ' administration, save that he might have to advance the tax rate. When busi ness got a little dull in Lydia, Croesus i decided to extend bis trade to some of the adjoining counties. I or a time he did a thriving business. He put him- self at the head of an army and pranced out into new fields ana .obbed ner which won mm tne aamirauon or ! all competitors. When be covered the j wealth of a neighbor or personal friend be did not get up any soit of stock : company or other high-toned scheme ' and invite his neighbor and personal ' friend to come in on tbe ground floor. 1 He just went after the wealth, killed his neighbor or personal friend, so that I he might not come to want and be j wealth home with bim. This rlan saved 'a great deal of talk and the ! robbed rr-in a great deal of worry and : loss of sleep. When Croesus had gathered in about all the wealth of the thirteen adjoining counties, more or less, he felt tolerably well fixed for a time, but yet too poor to have a Dret-class, high-toned funeral. He believed, however, that his wealth would allow hin to spend some weeks at a Florida health resort, if he could get half rates on account of the profes sion. But about this time Cioems heard that Cyrus was running an opposition business in bis line over at Media, and be decided, on the impulse of the moment, to go over to Media and see Cy. He found Cy at home. Cy was glad to see him, too, and did all he could to give Ciceius a lively and impressive re ception, wuue tne intercnange oi greetings was going on between this fine pair of Kings, Croesus suddenly re membered that be bad come away with out his umbrella, and as there were in dications of a storm, he started back toward Lydia as fast as he could travel. Cyrus came right after bim. Cyrus was a social sort of King and didn't want Croesus to go away mad. He was afraid he had hurt the feelings of his visitor iu some way, and he desired to overtake bim and learn the cause of his extreme haste. Cyrus followed Croeius all the way to Lydia, and when he bad gone there he liked the country and the climate so well that he decided to stay awhile and rest. He said he needed a great deal of rest because he had to travel very fast to keep in sight of Croesus. Cyrus was a humorist in his way. aud while he was resting in Lydia he decided to play a joke of Cioesus by burning bim at a stake, but at tbe last moment ! he changed his mind and bad his hired I man read four hundred and thirty pages ' of the Congressional Record of tbe coun- try to Croesus. Strange to say, and to the great surprise of Cyrus. Croesus 'survived. But be waj never after ards the bright and joyous man be was before Cyrus trifled with bis feelings in such a I shameful way. Cyrus, who was now running the government, liked Croesus so well after he became well acquainted with bim that he made him Assistant Secretary of State. Cyrus took care of the Treasury and attended to paying out ' all moseys himself. Xot a Good Region Tor Settler. Rear Admiral Bedford Pyni of the British navy finds a plea for Artie ex ploration in the Scriptural command to multiply and replenish the earth. The Admiral, however, would experience some difficulty in greatly multiplying the population of the globe in the regions immediately around the poles. Lieutenant Greely. who Is to lecture before the Scotch "Geographical Society recently, has, since his arrival in Eng land, expressed grave doubts whether the Xorth Pole will ever be Teached, since he holds that the region there is covered with ice many hundreds of feet thick. It may be true, as Admiral Pyni insists, that there is no Scrtptural war rant for exempting any latitude from the command delivered to Xoah and his sons; but there can be no immediate hurry for executing it in any region like the one which embodies Lieutenant Greely's idea of the pole. "Is he really in love?" "Is he? He is so much in love that be has become a letter-carrier so he can get to reading her lettters sooner. Be sides, as letter-carrier he knows if she is getting letters from any other feller.' RAILROADS IX DISTANT LANDS. Advent of the Locomotive Into Re mote Parts of Asia and Africa. By the completion bust Xoveniber ol the railroad from Cape Town to the South African diamond mines at Kim- berley, steam cars have supplanted the tiresome stages and the great ox wagons or the Dutch and British traders for about 700 miles along the direct route toward the Zambesi. The advent of the locomotive into the very region where Maffatt and Livingstone lived among benighted savages is not only an evi dence of the substantial progress of South Africa, but also illustrates the impulse that is now moving civilized nations to penetrate new fields of com merce with railroads. These enterprises seem to be justified by similar ventures already completed. South Africa's l.SttJ miles of lines, all owned by Cape Colony, jaid all work ing expenses and maintenance during the first six months this year, and 3J ler cent, to apply on the interest ac count. The British Burmali railroiuls returned 0 per cent, dividends last year, and have paid a good interest since the day they were oined. Gen. Strachey, tbe greatest authority on Indian rail roads, estimates that the benefits accru ing from her railways to India amount to over 30,000,OK) pounds sterling per annum. England's iron route from the Arabian sea to Afghanistan has reached the Quctta plateau through the Bolan pass. The work on Russia's transcaspian road is advancing day and night. It is now approaching Merv, and Russia expects to carry it on to Bokhara and Tasli kend. For the purpose of giving facili ties to her troops, England loaned the money to Cai Colony with which the railroad to Kimberley has just, been completed. From all corners of the world we are hearing of railroiuls projected, surveyed, or in course of building. In Venezuela, for instance, eight or nine different lines of greater or less extent are under contract, surveys are in progress, grad ing and track laying are considerably advanced on two Hues, and are soon to commence on others, Portugal has grantpil a concession for the railroad from LVIagoa bay in east Africa to the Transvaal border to connect with the Transvaal railroad which it Is reported will be built by German crpital. The more progressive among the Boers say they must have railroad connection with the sea. To its railroads is largely due the fact tliat South Africa now stands tenth on the list of the chief foreign nations dealing with England. It is in the Oriental world, however. that new railroad schemes are mast rapidly advancing. The king of Siam is eager to connect his capital with the rlitliinJA frrtntip In r-iil lino ' .v--v ik'iimii ii, nun tlii.1 jHJll- ised to build this road if the Indian gov ernment will build a rnaal tltmiirrb I'.nr- mah to meet the Siamese system at the 1 frontier. The leading chamliers of j commerce in Great Britain sent agents i to n-jHirt tiKn the feasibility of this ' li'jc.i, tiuu .u- uaudi unit vonpi- hoiui have returned home with enthus iastic endorsements of the scheme. In China the powerful viceroy, Li Hong Chang, has for some time been urging the need of railroads and telegraphs. His influence, aided by the support of other able statesmen, has already given to China over 3,0m) miles of telegraphs, manned by Chinese oiierators, and the little nine-mile railroad near Tientsin, and is paving the way for railroad schemes that, it is believed, will in the course of time reach a large develop ment in China. The railroad that is to connect the chief towns cf Siberia is slowly advancing eastward, and surveys for projected" lines are in pngress in Asia Minor, tlie Euphrates valley, and Persia. Tremendous Se.is. A dispatch from Hamilton, Beimml.i, says: The American bark Idaho, Cap tain Richardson, six days from Xew York, liound to Cienfuegos with a general cargo, arrived at this port in tow of the tug Gladisfen. Captain Richardson reports that she sailed from New York on Wednesday, Jan. Cth. On Friday, the Stb, a heavy gale arose, which increased during that night and Saturday, the sea running mountains high and the vessel laboring heavily. On Saturday at atout 4 P. M. a heavy sea broke on loard. carried away the mam pinrail covering loard and stripped the star-board side from the forward lart of the main rigging to the after IKirt of the after house, leaving the whole star-board side of the ship open and exposed to the sea. The crew were I set to work to nail canvass from the outside of the ship up over the deck. While this was being done the second mate and one seaman were washed over board of tbe port side of the vessel, but were rescued. The same sea which washed them off carried away a part of the port rail. During the whole time the puuil3 were manned and worked. On Sunday the 10th, the weather continued loisterous. The snip's jxwition by ol servation was latitude 34- 2t', longi tude 70 38'. The sea was running very high, and the ship straining ami leaking badly, At 9 A. M while all hands were on deck fitting the topmast staysail sheets, a tremendous sea broke on board abaft the star-board fore-rigging, carrying away everything it met two boats off the house, cargo, der rick, gangway bidder, hencoop, bin nacle, the galley and all its contents, with room occupied by the second mate and cook. The starboard bulwarks and stanchions were smashed, and covering boards split from abaft the fore rigging to the poop. The cook was washed overboard, but managed to grasp the rail forward and was rescued with diffi culty. The deck load was jettisoned, as it was washing about in all direc tions, the main deck being full of water. As the weather moderated the wreck was cleared, and when the damage was ascertained the captain decided to bear up for Bermuda. On Monday the weather moderated, and on Tuesday morning Gibbs Hill lighthouse was sighted. Somebody has figured it out that the United States, if as densely populated as France, would contain a population of 680,000,000. There Is another effort to retire the thieving trade dollar. If it stays an other year, the American eagle will sell himself for a buzzard. "Xow, you young scamp," said Binks senior, as he took hold of bis youngest to give -him a "dressing," "ill teach you what is whatl' "Xo. j papa," rpuea we incorrigible, - you u teach ma which la switch." NEWS IN BRIEF. Xew dinner plates are square. Bismark drinks beer out of a stone mug. The Trincess of Wales is said to be incurlably deaf. Two of Longfellow's daughters are studying in England. Tbe value of a male lion is $3,000 and a female $1,000. The striped hvena, is rated at $5C0; tbe spotted at SOO. "Freddie Langtry," is the name of a Boston Thomas cat. California has 1,003,000 inhabitants but only 900 churches. There are nearly six thousand Am ericans residing in Pari?. It is said that Jay Gould's mortua ry chapel will cost ;v,000. In some parts of Kentucky water ia used for drinking purposes. The latest census gives lo00 squir rels in Xew York Central Park. Last year there were more deaUu from the toy pistol than Irom cycloues. It may be doubted if any man who worked in the right way ever died of work. This year's crop or Rio coffee Is es timated at from 3,000,000 to 3,o00,000 bags. Judea pitch, which is found float ing on the Dead Sea, is au excellent fuel. During the month of Octob?r twenty-one new novels were publshed in London. There are more Roman Catholics In Xew York city than in any other city in the world. In the Argentine Republic 14,300 men are now employed in railroad con struction. The late Governor Washburn of Wisconsin left each of his children a round million. Mauch Chunk is pronounced Movk Chunk, Tucson is Toos'n and Manitoba is Maunetobah. A fine specimen of the royal Ben gal tiger is worth J.500; the female is not so valuable. Pilgrimages began with the pil grimage of the Empress Helena to Je rusalem in o.. Twenty cotton mills in Alabama are paying an average ot fifteen per annum in dividends. Clasp or spring knives became com mon In England about 1000, coming originally horn Flanders. The Japanese game of checkers is so intricate that a mouth is often spent in aeciuing one game. A South Americau panther costs $100 to $ J00. A malo is worth twice as much as a female. A man in Bethel, Conn., gave a party on the 102 aniversary of his birth, and died the next day. Forty-flve thousand people were ar rested in Paris last year. Six thousand i f them were women. The Agricultural Laborers' Un ion, organized by Joseph Arch, has a membership of 20,000. It is said tliat the original walls of London were built by Theodosius, the Roman governor, in 37l. An untrained elephant at the age of 2S or 30 is worth $10,000, aud a per forming elephant ? 15,000. Senator Dan. W. Voorhees wears three finger-ring i on his left hand and carries a silver snuff box. A calculation made at the Postoflice Department shows only one registered letter in every 13,000 is lost. The most expensive drug now iu the market is ergotinin; it costs $:.3.5 a grain, or nearly $1"00 a pound. The Japanese are teaching about 2 - " 000,000 children in their public schools ou American and English systems. The horse population of the United States is now over 11,000,000, or about one horse to every five human beings. Seven great English trade unions have spent in six years. $10,000,000 for the defense, support and relief of men out of work. Victor Hugo's play of "Cromwell," which, though published in 1S27, has never yet teen performed, is to be given for the first time this winter at the Odeon. There are about 10,000 private cabs plying for hire in the Paris streets, and the drivers include persons of every class cf society, from uufrocked priests to broken-down cooks. In England there are women's uni ons of bookbinders, dressm.ikers, pow erloom weavers, tailois, upholsterers, be sides a Women's Trade Council. They have a membership of about 3,000. At Reddicb, Germany, 14,000 per sons are engaged in making needles. The total Production of needles In the world is 2iJO,000,000 per week, or 10, 000,000,000 per year. In England the great trades unions are increasing in membership. In five of them the number of members has grown from 00,000 to 123,000 within six years. Both their incomes and re serves have doubled. The trades councils in England and Scotland are active and large. The Loudon Council represents 14.SC4 ac credited members. Glasgow has 12,000 members, Ediuburg 8.0C0, Manchester 0,000 and Bolton ti,0uO. The Engineers' and Machinists' Union has a membership of 50,000. During tbe year 1S7'J, $700,000 were paid out to members who were out of work. In the past five years it has paid for the same purpose $1,93-3,000. E is much more u-?ed than any oth er letter. For every 1,000 Es used in speaking and writing there are 770 Is, 2i A3, 704 Js, 080 Sa, 072 Os, 0SJ Xs, U4 J Hs, 520 R's, while all the others are below 400. ending with 50 (H 40 Xs, and 32Zs. The returns of the census taken on January 1, 1883, which have just been published, show that the Empire of Japan contained a population of 30,700, 100 made up of 18,598,008 males and 13,121,000 females. The Romans maae expiatory sacri fices at the end of every term of five years, beginning at the term the last census was taken 472 B. C. Tbe last census wvs taken 74 B. C. Tbe use of the phrase Brother Jon athan to describe an American is said to have come from Washington's reli ance for advice on Jonathan Trumbull, first Governor of Connecticut. On the ostrich farm near Anaheim Cab, ostrich chickens are being hatched at the rate of one a da;. When they come out of the shell they are nearly the size of a half-grown duck. They eat ravenously and grow very rapidly. S J.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers