Y<>\. VXVI T©HMI&MO. * ■* P-, Our Spring goods which comprises the latest novelties at tainable, in Foreign and Domestic markets, HA V E A. Ft RIV ED. As it i« a consideration of all gentlemen who desire to dress well, what to wear lor Spring, and where he shall pur chase, we invito you to inspect our immense stock, and you can readily select some thing uitahle. See Our Window Display. THE VERY PEOPLE WHO| HAVE THE LEAST MONEY| Are your wages small. TO SPEND ARE THE ONES j Are ynu tl,e °' " I family? OUR HELIABLE CLOTHING j ' „ , ~ .... With marketing bills ftVEANS WOST TO larjje? With house rent a drag on you? TAIW prices ibr honest, long-wearing < lulling will be a boon to y< ur pocket-lxiok and your bacK. Get an Iron-clad Cloth at Sl'J. Suit we know of. Nobody else sells it. Get .1. N i'\TTßl»SOft\S Cloth Suit at £lO. Ft r dress ami everyday wear combined it'.- wonderful value. No matter how fine a suit you want lbr dress or business we have that at a low price. There is U'» open question about Roys' Clothing. We are not only pioceers, but to day's leaders in styles and qualities highest excellence and lowest prices. Kernelnber the place. J. N. PATTERSON'S. One Price Clothing House, 29 S. MAIN ST.. BUTLER, PA. THE Great Fair Now Ready F or VISITORS. Wonderful Display FALL AND WINTER Dross Goods, Trimmings, Sluiwls, \\ raps, and all kinds of Fancv and Furnishing Goods. C a»rpet fE». Oil Cloths, Mattings, Rugs, Arc. BLANKETS, FLAN NELS, YARNS, &c. An i iiimense Stock at the Lowest Prices Ever Advertised. RITTER & RALSTON S. FASHION EMPORIUM. We must confess ourselves completely surprised at the waj our poods Lave been selliDp. On the 6th we opened the largest stock we had ever brought to Hutler. On the 20th our shelves were as bare as Mother Hub bard's celebrated cupboard, and necessitated an entire re stocking at once. To-morrow we open the fresh lot, and there is nothing of the showman's talk about in our warning jou to come at once; it is the truth, from the way our poods are sel.'ini;. Whether wo sell because of cheapness, or (|tiality of goodt-; whether becau.-e of the quantity to select from or the knowing-how to-suit customers: whether from any or all of them, is for your eyes aud judjrnifnt to decide—that we do the business is not doubted. , .luct a moment for a word or two on our latest novelties. The newest thing in dress trimmings is the Surah S>ish, very wide, and very handsome. We have a liue stock, at moderate prices. They are beautiful. Direetoire 4lats are beiug worn a great deal, aud they are very becom ing to almost any face and 6gure. Our slock is unsurpassed and would cer tainly suit the tastes of the most fastidious Our (tinip and Laces for dress trimmings are quite in keeping with the exu-nt of our stock in other lines. We have everything worth showing The price, too, is what tells. While never for a momeut sacrificing quality to rbeapness, (for our reputation is built on this very thing) we endeavor to supply the lx»st in the market at the most reasonable price. Remember that Miss M. H. Gilkey, THE LEADING MILLINER, NO.<iv» S. MAIIN ST, BARGANS in WATCHES, Clocks, Jewelry And silverware. Finest stork of Sterling Silverware in the county and nt prices not to be equalled for cash. \\ atclies and Clocks repaired and warranted, at J. H. GHIEIi'S IS* t». 10 Alain. (Sign of ELEfTttic BEI.I.), butosr, PA. THE BUTLER CITIZEN. HORSE AILMENTS. . . Kcponsct, 111., May 20,1558. My mare caught cold; result: swelled limbs; lump between y,m fore legs and inf.am ",§ff ciation. Cured her JtMflt,i \V i with Et. Jacobs Oil. sM" L °' GAKDN ER Winsboro, Tex., rzt'i '*' ' }"&?? horso was hurt f tzT on hind leg: suffered 10 months; was cared by Pt Jacobs Oil; cure has remained permanent. W. J. CLINK. JOS. CAIRN PIMPSOX, Esq., Pec. Tafifis Coast Blood-llorso Association, sayi: "Being familiar with the remarkable efficacy of St. Jacobs Oil, I rheerf\i!li» and heartily indorse this valuable speciiio for painful ailments." Hon. ODKX BOWIE. Ex-Governor of Mary land. Jockey Ciub, I'rcst. City raja. Railway Co., says: "In my family and my stables I have used St. Jacobs Oil with satisfactory result---, and believe it the best remedy for lh« j>aiii?«l ailments of man and bea.st." AT DHCOOISTS AND T)KAT.FP.». THE CHARLES A. VOGELER CO.. Baltimor*, M 4. EI)UCA r rLON L INDIANA NORMAL SCHOOL, IMiIASA. I'A. Indiana is nsi hool abrenst or the times. No t (Torts .ire litlng spitred to make II the leading professional training school in the country. The facility Is composed of members who are specialists'as teachers and scholars in their re spective departments. There are also college preparatory, commercial, and musical depart / \ SHIMS l'h.l> . I'rin. ! |ial. Curry Business College. ( l ltltv I NIVERSITY. SIXTH STKEKT. I-ITTSItI Rl.'. The bi st liiiulpped and most successful Busi ness < <•liege In l'enn'a. Individual Instruction for everv student from 9 A.M. till 4P. M.. and I r«>M 7 till ID P.M. Actual Business Practice and Practical iiuiikiji<.' are Specialties. The best advantages In shorthand and Type-writing. The University also sustains lull regular cour ses ot study in the classical. Scientific, Semina ry. Normal, Music and Elocutionary Depart ments. correspondence solicited. Send for catalogues. 4A JIKS ( LABK W ILI.IAMS, A. M„ Prest. HIRAM COLLEGE. II Irani. <>. Thorough Classical. Philosophical and Scientific courses. Also a Biblical course and a ■: years' course e specially to prepare Teachers for their work. Much attention given to preparatory studies. New and commodious buildings. I'ine Ladles' Hall under care of l.adv Principal. Location high and very health ful. No s;ilcons. E.\| ens<s ver\ low. Next term begins Sept. 17, lss9. For Catalogue and Informal lon address, E. V. ZOM.AKS. President. Washington k Jeffersoii Collets Washington, Prima, The s:>t!i year begins Sept. 11. ( laslcal, Scien tllic and Preparatory Departments. For infor mation concerning Preparatory Department ap plv to PUOF. J. ADOLPH S( IIMITZ, Prlllj, lor Catalogue or oilier information to PItEST MOFFAT. BEAVER COLLEGE young -rlrl.-> and young ladles. Beaver. Pa. Most fully equipped Ladles and Music School in Western l'enn'a. Thirty-fifth year and no death, lb ill liful and beautiful location. Pop ular rates. Only Hitv boarders received. Send for catalogue. It. T. TAI I.OK Pres. TWO CHOICE SCHOOLS. BROOKE HALL, For Girls and Young Ladies. Short lidge Media Academy, For Boys and Young Men, SWITHIN C 3HORTLIDGE, A M (HARVARD GRADUATE.) MEDIA, PA., (Near Philadelphia.) J. E. Kjistor, Practical Slate Roofer. Ornamental and Plain Slating Of all kinds done oil short notice. Ollice with W. 11. Morris 7, N. Main St., Residence North Elm street, tin tier, Pa. Willard Hotel, W. 11. liEllllNli, Prop'r BUTLER, - STABLIKFL IN CWmcnflK. SAMPI.K BOOM I'orCOSIMKBCIAL TIiAVKLKBS SAMPLKKOOM. LIVKI!\ IN CONNECTION Hotel Vogeley (Strictly First Class.) IIEXRYL. BECK, PROP'R. J. H. FAUDF.L, Manager. Butler, Pa. Diamond : - : Hotel, Fronting Diamond, Hutler, Pa. TIIOMAS WASSOX, Pro'r. Good rooms, good meals, stabling in con nection, everything first class. IITENMHLUB HQfEL, No. 88 and 90, S. Main St., BUTLER, - - P^Y. Near New Court House—formerly Donaldson House—{rood accommodations lor travelers. Good stabling connected. U-9- si; lyi 11 EiTENMUI LEK, Prop'r. INIXONS HOME, sr. N. MCKEAN s r.. BUTLEII. PA. Meals at all hours. Open all night. Breakfast 23 cenl s. Dinner 2."> cents. Supper UT. cents, Lodging 25 cents, SIMEON NIXON - - - PKOP'R. WIIEN YOU VISIT PITTSBURGH CALL OX JOHN R. & A. MURDOCH, s Snilthlteld street, for Trees, Seeds. Lilies, rape Mnes. liardy 1 loses, Canary lilrds.tiold tilsh. etc. Descriptive Fall Catalougo mailed free. 2f-. t C 52 Ai.ao. htoemmln* Wit i' .f. l 8 .j , ,ofot!a.i citiiriit ts jan adv !)>. »!►.« in clucogo, will find it on fi'« 11 . LORD & THOMAS. A CHILD'S QUESTION. BY MAY F. MCKEAX. In a mansion grand and stately. On a wide and handsome street. Lived a man of vast possessions. With his little daughter sweet, lie had lots in many a city. He had houses by the score. He hail broad aud rolling acres, And a dwelling by the shore. And he oft would tell his daughter. As she sat with wojdering eyes, Of their worth an* of their beauty. 'Till before her thoughts did rise Visions of their wondrous beauty. And of all their wondrous worth; Till the child-mind almost fancied That there was as yet on earth Xot a state and not a country Where her father did not own Lands and Farms, and stately mansions Fruits of labor he had sown. But into this home of comfort Came a sorrow as a cloud: Death wdl neither stay nor tarry At the mandate of the proud. Rich and poor, the high and lowly. Each must answer to his call. Enters he the meanest hovel. As he does the stateliest hall; And this man of vast possessions In his costly chamber lay, Resting on a bed luxuriant. Wasting by disease away. Skilled physicians waited on him. Loving lips pressed cheek aud brow, But the utmost skill aud learning Could not change the verdict now. Then one day, the learn'd physician Called aside the little child. Tenderly he stroked her tresses, Spoke in accents low and mild: "Do _vou know, my little darling. That your father soon must go To a far-off. far-off country— Little darling, do you know." Opened then the eyes in wonder, With a sudden, strauge surprise; Then with tears and fears and trem bliug, To her father's side she flies— Climbs upon the bed beside him. Lays her head close to his cheek. In a sudden, dreadful anguish That will scarcely let her speak. Then she thinks ol'all his mansions— (if th" lands so broad aud fair. Of the homes that must await him, And their beauty rich and rare. Slowly now her head she raises. Gone the sorrow aud the fear: Once again she smiles, then, laughing, Dashes from her eyes a tear, As she asks in accents tender: "Papa, tell me, I would know. Do you own a lovely mansion In the land where you must go? Doctor told me all about it— How that you must go awav To a far-off, far-off country; Have you there a mansion; say? For the going will be pleasant And you need not have a care. If it is to your own mansion, In that far-off land so fair." Then that stricken father faltered. For although he'd built with care Many a fine and stately dwelling, He had yet no mansion there. What to him were now the acres With their wealth of golden grain? What to him were farms and houses? What toTiTni was earthly galnt Whit'to him, now ho lay dying. Were the many mansions hero," He must leave them all forever— Ami IK- lititl n» Mansion there.' —Xational Jlaptixt. The Convict's Daughter. A TRI E STOfIV It was early morning. "Is this the way, sir, to Sing Sing?" 'Yes," roughly replied a broad-faced countryman and passed on. It was afternoon. The child was some what fragile iu her appearance. Her bon net was of broken straw, her shoes were much torn; the sun played hotly ou her forehead. She walked on and on an hour longer. "Is this tho way to Sing Sing, sir?" "Yes, little girl, but what are 3-011 going there for?" Tho child trudged on, her lips quivering, but not deigning to answer the pleasant faced old luau who had stopped the jog ging of bis horse to note her hurried man ner, and who liked that little face, anxious and sad us its expression was. The dew was fallen. Katie had fallen too, almost. A rough stone by the way, imbedded in moss, received her tired little frame. She looked so worn and tired, sit ting there, her tangled hair failing on her hands that were clasped over her face. By the shaking of her frame the tears weio coming too, and she was bravely trying to hold them back. "Why. what is the dear little girl doing here?" The exclamation came from a pair of young lips. "A curiosity, I declare!" exclaimed a harsher voice, aud Katie, looking up sud denly, cowed away from the sight of the young lady and her agreeable looking com panion. "Whatever arc you doing here, little girl?" asked Xell Maywood, moving a little nearer towards the frightened child. "Going. Miss, to Siug Sing," said Katie. "Why George! this child is going to Sing Sing—ton miles oil'. Child, did you know it was so far off.'" Katie shook her bead, and wiped awaj the hot tears, one by one. "Why, you little goose, what are going to Sing Sing for? Have you had your sup per?" Katie shook her head. "Have you had any dinner?" Again the child shook her head. "Xo breakfast. Why, George, tho poor thing must be almost starved!" "I should think so,"mechanically replied her brother, just recovering from a yawn, and showing signs of sympathy. "Look here, what's your name? Well girl, you must come up to the house and got something to eat. Follow me, anil we will take care of you to-night somehow, and see about your going to Sing Sing to morrow." Katie followed. What a glorious vision burst upon her view! The palatial house; the rocks reddening in the low western sun; the shining river; the signs of luxury ou every hand. "Susan, give this child a good supper; she is hungry and tired, too, I imagine. After that I will sec what can be done for her." Susan wore a mild face. She looked pleasantly down at the poor, tired little one, and taking her hand, which trembled now, led her into the kitchen. Meanwhile her story, or that brief part of it which we know, was being told in the drawing-room. The sylph-like figure iu white, lounging gracefully in the midst of delicate cushions, accompanied her narra tion with expressive gestures, and now and then a little laugh. BUTLER, PA., FRIDAY. SEPTEMBER G, 1880 "1 should like to know what she is going to Sing Sing for!" she said, leaning lan guidly back. "We must look her up some thing to wear—a bonnet, a pair of shoes ; and then maybe we can manage to have lier carried some distance. Oh! such au : odd little thing." "Who is that, my daughter!" "Oh. pupa, you have come home! Why 1 was talkiug about a little mite of a child; she can't be more than ten. if that. I saw her out here sitting on a moss rock, the most forlorn object. She says she is going to Sing Sing." "I met her on my way." said the pleas j ant-faced old man, "she asked me about j it, but she trudged on. Where is she? It was noon when I saw her." •In the kitchen, papa. Susan is taking good care of her 1 think, and when she has had a hearty supper we will talk with hor." A gay trio of young girls came in. The nettings were put up. the gas was burning brightly, and music and mirth banished all thoughts of care. Suddenly Nell May wood remembered the odd little figure aud clapping her hands, cried, "Oh, I've some thing to show you girls!" and disappeared. Susan was picking gooseberries near the pantry in the kitchen. "Where is the child. Susief" asked Xel 1 Maywood. "On the doorstep. Miss." "Why, no, Susan, there's nobody to be seen." "N'o! Miss." Susan placed her pan down, I held her apron up to catch the stems of the berries aud walked deliberately to the door. Why, she sat there sometime after sup per. I turned and cainc in; she was sit ting theie, looking np. at the stars 1 ex pect. 1 thought she was a mighty quiet child, but she's deep, deep. Miss Nelly; she's gone. Let me see, there ain't any silver around—l should be afeared she'd took something: they're mighty artful." "Why didn't you tell her she might stay all night.'" Xell Maywood was peeping here and there to spy her it possible. "Yes, Miss Nell, aud told her what a good bed there was over the woodshed,but she looked strauge out of them large eyes of hers." "The poor child is iu trouble," said Xell, quite sorrowful that she could not farther relieve her necessities. "I'd have given her something to wear, and we could have sent her to Sing Sing; and perhaps she will she will come back again—if so, will you send her to me?" "If she do, I will. Miss," answered Su san, going at the gooseberries a?ain. But little Kate did not come back. She hail been watching her opportunity to get off, and had already been gone sometime. She slept in an open field; crawled in some hay; she would have walked all night if she dared, but she was afraid of the dark. "Mr. Warden, there's a queer ease over at my house," said a bluff looking fellow, meeting the warden of Sing Sing prison. "We found her last night iu some out-of the way place, aud nothing would do but my wife must take her in. We can't find out her name except that it's Kate,and I ex pect that she wants to see somebody in prison. But we eau't get anything out of her—where she's come from or anything about it." "Bring her over here," said the warden —"my wife is wanting a little girl for help; maybe she's just the one." So Kate stood, trembling more thau ev er, in a few moments,in the presence of the warden aud jailer. Kate was a pretty child. Her large blue eyes wore au ex pression of intense melancholy; her hair had been nicely combed and curled, .-uid some one had put a good pair of shoes on her feet. "Well, my little girl," said the warden, kindly—for he was prepossessed in her fa vor —"where have you come from?" "New York," said the child faintly. The men looked at each other incredu lously. "Do you mean to say that you have come to Sing Sing from Xew York on foot?" "Yes. sir." said the child, frightened at his manner, which had in something of severity. "And what have you coinc for?" "To see my father." The child burst forth with one great sob, and for a moment her little frame was shaken with a tempest of feeling. "Aud who is your father?" asked the warden, kindly. "He is Mr. Lloyd," said tho child, as soou as she could speak for her rushing sobs. The warden look ed at the jailer. "Lloyd; there are three Lloyds here — .Tim. Bondy and Dick" said the jailer "That may not bo their proper names," responded the warden. "That's so." said the jailer, "but I can try 'em all. Little one, was your father's name Jim?" The child nodded her head, or they thought she did; she was all convulsed with the reaction brought on by the termi nation of her journey. "If it's Jim he's a bad one," said the jail er, in a low voice; "he's iu irons this morn ing for 'tempting to break jail; he dou't de serve a little gal like that one, the villiau. Come, child, I'll go and find your father." He took Katie's shaking hand; with the oth er be dashed away the tears s fast as they fell. It frightened her almost into calmness to seethe ponderous door at which the jailer applied the great key. and the stillness of long stone passages; the dimness thrown over all, the constant succession of bars and bleak, black walls were terrible to a sensitive mind like hers. How the heavy tread of the jailer, and the tread of the warden behind him, echoed through the gloom aud the space! It was, in truth, a great tomb through which they moved— a tomb in which were confined liviug hearts— whose throbs could almost be heard in the stillness. On, on they went, now through that passageway.— Every thing spoke of crime—of fierce passions subdued and held in stem control—every thing, from the grim face of the ferocious watchdog to the sentinels armed. Then they turned and went up the stairs, the jailor holding the scared bird close to his side with a tender clasp, the warden following. Another tramp, and at last they came to a standstill. The jailer rap ped at a cell door. Slowly the figure of a mau. with a harsh, hair-covered face, ap peared. "Little girl! you're green," said the man in glum accents. "I've got no little girl, or you would'nt catch me here." "Father," said the childish voice. It sounded so sweet, so childish, in that ter rible prison. But as the scowling face came close to the bars, the child bid her head quickly in the jailer's arm, half sob bing, it wasn't him. "We'll try the next one." He walked farther on atut spoke more pleasantly this time: "Well, Bondy, here is little Kate: don't you want to see her?" "Little Katie " there was a long pause, "I had a Kate once—not a little Katie; I broke her heart—God pity ine! Go 011 it can't be lor me. Again the sweet voice rang out: "Father." The prisoner came up close to the bars; a youthful face, framed with light wavy hair—a face that it seemed a sin to couple with a foul deed, gazed out. It wan a child's earnest pleading, tearful eyes: a dark expression rolled like u wave across his brow: a groan came up from his bosom, and with a low moan he staggered ajrainst his bed; crying: "Take her away; I eau't >tauil the sight of anything pure like that." Katie had hidden her face a second lime a- she feebly cried,"lt isn't hitn:" so they kept on to the third cell. "Jim here's a little girl—little Katie, your daughter, wants to see you." A stupid "what?" came from the bed; the man who had probably jnst awakened. "Your little daughter." There was a sound of rattling irons that made the girl shiver. Dimly appeared the face and outlines of a well-made man—the countenance haudsomo but evil. He seem ed not to comprehend. But as fast as the chaius would permit him. he came forward and looked at the anxious face below. With a loud convulsive cry she exclaim ed: "Father! lather!" and fell nearly senseless against the jailer. " Katie!" exclaimed the man, and there was a nervous twitching about the muscles of the mouth: "Whatever has brought her here?" Th e jailer was calling the child to con sciousness. "Shall we let her come in the cell?" ask ed the warden. dim was dashing his hand across his face. A smothered "Yes," issued from his lips. They opened the ponderous door and put the child within. Her arms were outstretched, his were wide open, and they came together with a clanking sound, to gether ab <ut the form of that poor little child. "Oh. father!" "Oh, Katie. Katie!" aud then there was a quiet crying. By-and-by the man lifted the little head, whose glossy curls were falling on his shoulders, and oh! what a sharp rattle of chains smote on the ear, and looked in her face. After a moment's irresoulution he kissed her, and then his eyes fell under her earnest loving look. "Katie, what made you come?" "Wanted to see you, father," and the head was on his shoulder again. "How did you come, Katie?" Xever mind the noise, they are locking; they will be here again and let you out. How did you come, Katie?" "I walked here"." "From Xew York, child?" "Yes, tather." There was no sound save that of the chains, as he strained her closer to his bo som. "And how did you leave —her, Katie— your mother?" The question was fearfully asked, but not responded to. He gazed eagerly in the child's face; her little lip was quivering. "Katie, tell me quick!" "She died, father." A groan, a terrible groan followed; the man's head fell in the lap of the child, and he wept with strong cries. The jailer and the warden said that they never saw a sight so woeful. And the child tried to comfort him. till his strength seemed to be gone and his sobs were like gasps. "Oh, Katie, when did she die? Oh. my poor May! my poor girl!" "Ever so long ago. I think; ever so mauy weeks," replied the child; "but she told me come and see you and comfort you." "Oh. this is hard: very hard: she always forgave me." "She told me to pray for you, too; she told me to ask you would you be real good after von came out, and meet her in Heav en." "In Heaven! I in Heaven?" groaned the man, giving way in his agony. The child was angel-guided. Her soft touch was better for his soul's good than the stripes aud the chains. He had been hardened; her little love melted down the adamant; had found the good locked up in his na ture, and she had sent her sweet smiles through its prison door.—Long he sat there, his head in the lap of his beautiful, (juiet child. Xone dared disturb him; jail er and warden walked to and fro. "Father, when you come out, I'll take care of you." He lifted his bead; his eyes, red with weeping, were fastened on her face. "Mother said I might." "God's blessing on you. my precious child; you may save your miserable father yet!" "I will, father." Fun With the Old Man. He was a meek-looking old gentleman from the country, and as lie took his seat at the dining-room table the drummers looked at him over their soup-spoons. They noted his weather-beaten face, his wet hair carefully parted aud brushed arou.id over his ears, and his air of diffi dence as he nervously fiugered his fork; and when the waiter girl stood at bis side and winked at the boot-and-shoc man they were all attention. "Soup?" she asked. The old man seemed a bit snrprised at the brevity of the bill of fare, and fidgeted about as though waitiug for her to say something more. "Would you like some soup?" said the girl, with a side glance at the coffee and spice man. "I ain't particular about soup as I know of," answered the old man. "Boil' mutt'n, cappersauce, roas' beef, r's' lamb, rV veal, fricassee chiek'n. cole ham-tongue, chiek'n salad, fritters ,boil'n' baked p'tatus," said the girl with lightning like rapidity. The old man looked kind of hepless, and the boys felt a little sorry for him as he kept his eyes fastened on the fork, which he shoved from side to side with his lin gers. "I guess I'll take —1 guess j-ou'll have to say that again," he said, looking up, aud the girl rattled the whole thing off iu ex actly the same time as before. The old man looked arouud the table and caught sight of a drummer winking at the girl. Then he jerked his head around, and looking her straight in the face, he said: "You may ginune s'm bile corubeef 'u' cabbage, roas' beef, veal 'n' mutton, cole chiek'n 'n' codfish cakes 'n' sassage 'n' beefsteak V a piece o' pumkin pie 'n' cup o' coffee, sis, 'n' now see ef yer kin make yer little legs fly "s fast as ye kin yer ton gue, for I wauter git home; there's a show er comiu' up." The girl hesitated, turned red, and then made a break for the kitchen, while the drummers laughed aud the old man gazed out of the window at the gathering cloud. Tho Vowels. Xickleby—What are the vowels? Squeers—A, e, i, o, u. X. —Xow say theni again, dropping oil' the first one. S. —E, i, o, u. X.—Xow once more, dropping off the second one. S.—l, o, u. X.—l know you do, and I wish to thun der you'd pay up —Want of principle is the principal want of some people. —A» the butcher adds his hand to the weight of the steak, he piously sighs to himself. I love to steal, a while, a weight. An Orthodox Man. Arkansas Traveler.] A luau wearing the of a tire some journey dismounted from a jaded horse at the door of a cabin near the Ar kansas line of the Indian Territory, and. speaking to an obi fellow who advanced to meet him. said: "My friend. I am worn out and am hun gry. Can you give me shelter and -oine thing to eat?" "I dunno 'xauUy, but we mout, as sich things have been did before. Whut's yo' name?" "Marcus White." "Ah, hah! They call you Mark, I reck on?" "Yes." "Wall, my name is Matthew, and I've got a son named Luke and one named John. All uv us tergether would make a sort of gosple team wouldn't we?" "Yes," said Mr. White, smiling. "But the question now is. can I find accomoda tion here?" "Hitch yo' horse and come in. and we'll sec about it." When White went into the house a shrunken woman, mumbling over her knit ting. made room for him by shoving back her chair without getting np. and a jute haired child, with a hunk of corn bread iu its hand, scrambled under the bed. "Set down, Mr. Mark," said old Mat thew. -Tildy, (addressing his wife) you motit hnsslc around now nnd git this here hougry man suthin* ter eat. You mout go out thar and kill that old hen that's been a setting fur two wevks on them pieces of brickbats. Bile her long enough an' I reck on we can chaw her." The woman wiped her nose on her knit ting and went out, and pretty soou there arose the distressing cry of an old hen. "Mr. Mark," said old Matthew,"Ton are religions I hope." "Yes. I try to be." "Glad ter bear it, fur uobody but reli gious folks can claim anything offen me. You believe that Aaron made a steer outen gold, dou't you?" "Yes. a calf." "Air you shore it was a calf?" "I aui quite sure." "Wall, then, we won't argy. All I want is ter settle the fact uv yo' belief, fur. ez I tell you, lam a religious man. dyed in the wool and baptized in the feathers. You believe that old 'Lisha made the he bears eat up forty children, don't you?" "They were she bears." "Air you certain about that p'fut?" "Yes, I am positive." Wall, it don't make rio diffunee so long as you believe it. Xow, lemmo see. It's my habit, you understand, to investigate these things. I wouldn't let au inferdel stay in my house live minutes, if 1 knowed it, fur uothin' in the world. You believe that Moses split the sea, don't yon?" "Yes." "Glad—glad to know that you air a Christian gentleman. But I hear my boys Luke and John a-comiu". They've been over inter Bucksnort County ter settle a little diffikelty." When the boys, two gaunt fellows, came into the room the old man said: "Boys, -this is Mr. Mark. Set down thar, an' tell me how the thing came out. Did you find old man Bender?" "Yas suh," said oue of the boys. "Whut did you do with him?" "Tied him ter a tree." "Good! Then what did you do?" | |"We cut some hickories an' whipped him." "Good!" tiv old man exclaimed. "Did he howl?" "Bawled like er cow." "Good! How many did you hit him?" "Fifty." "Fnstrate. Then what?" "We left him tied thar." "Fnstrate, Mr. Mark," he added, speak ing to the guest, "tL it oughter teach him a lesson." "What had he done to deserve such pun ishment?" "Oh. he sued me tor a saddle 1 borrid from him. Left him tied, eh? Fnstrate!" They continued to talk, and the odor of thi> boiling hen floated into the room. A gathering cloud which all day had been making threats burst into a downpour of rain. "Mr. Mark," said the host, "I wantcr ax you another question. We must have a little liberality, you know, cz well ez be lief. Do you b'l'eve that Adam was made outer dust?" "Well, strictly speaking, I do not." "What! don't believe that Adam was made outer dust" "To tell you the tmth, I do not. "Wall, then, git outer this house right smart: git right out." "My dear sir, this rainstorm " "Git out (springing to his feet) or I 11 hurt you. I don't want the lightniu' ter strike my house jest because I've got an inferdel here. Git out." "Won't you give me a piece of that chicken, please?" "Not a speck. I ain't gwinc to give the lightnin' the slightest excuse for business. Xo inferdel harbored here. Git!" Mr. Mari us White rode into the storm. What's in a Name. I have a girl—a gay coquette— Whose name to me is Margaret. , A Frenchman, whom she calls her 'sweet, Most always calls her Marguerite. A Spaniard, evidently, "sweeter, Addresses her as Margarita. A Portuguese, and quite a leader In drawing-rooms, says Margarida. A chap from sunny Italy Prefers to call her Marghery. An awkward swain from Germany Pronounces it "mein leih Mart/it ." A dude, with trousers wide and baggy. Seems to enjoy the pet name Maggy. Another impecunious wag Diminutively calls her Mag. A park policeman, with a badge, has christened her by name of Madge. He took hor once to wituoss "Xadgy" And, 'tween the acts addressed her Madgy. Some call her Meg. some call her Meggy; Some call her Peg, some call lier Peggy. Aud some, tnoro vulgarly than witty. Contemptuously call her Gritty. But when she's hired as a IHrntt-madekru, Her German mistress calls her <ir> trhrn. —Considerable interest is now being manifested as to the authorship of the fol lowing beautiful aud ingenious poem en titled "Hiawatha's Mittens." and the au thor will greatly oblige the anxious public by coming forward and pleading guilty: He killed the noble Mndjokivis. With tin; skin he made him mittens. Made them with the fur side inside; Made them with the skin side outside: He to get the warm side inside. Put the inside skin side outside. He, to get the cold side outside. Put the warm side fur side inside: That's why ho put the fur side inside, Why he put the skinside outside, Why he turned them inside outside. Whv he turned them outside inside. The Lemons of the Street. <>u the corner* we may CnJ them. Or in cluster- here and there: In the day time ..r the night time. All along the thoroughfare; ' Standing idly and forgetting They should earn the bread they eat, i Are the many who are learning All the lessons of the street. In their homes i* naught inviting: Poverty and want are there; Wasting demons—thirsting ever— Serve to keep the cupboard bare; And the little babies wander Ont of doors on toddling feet. to leant the lessons taught them Every honr upon the street. Shame and Crime, thier ready pupils. Here of every age may find: Sons of wealth and rank, to evil And to idleness inclined: In the school of vile progressing. They with base-born rogues compete. Who have won a high distinction Ftom their training in the street. Maidens fresh iu youthful beauty. Cherished in the heart aud home; Dearly loved ones —vain and thoughtle. | |Froa tbe fn . boMW t>> m>i Knowing not the many dangers And disasters they may meet. By their every day attendance On the lessons of the street. Many a life that started bravely, Full of promise, pride and zeal— Stirred within by holy passion- That the knavish never l'elt— He has been overthrown in battle. Led to sure and swift defeat. By the poison and pollution of the lessons of the street. <>h. ye mothers, train your darlings So to love their homes, that they With the idle and the vicious Will not ever go astray. With a chain of strong affection Hind them to the safe retreat, I That their minds may not be tainted By the lessons of the street. Agricultural. The New Wilmington tUobt says: It is claimed by intelligent farmers in this sec tion. who have given the different varieties of seed wheat a thorough test, that the i Foultz wheat, year in and year out, is the I best that can be procured for this climate and ground. It rarely ever fails. They get at the real value of a cow in Sussex county, X. J., by selling her at so much a quart. The scheme is pronounced by dairymen as the most equitable yet pro posed in the sale of milch cows. The pur chaser pays $2.50 per quart. Thus, if she gives 20 quarts daily, she is worth *-> O. The purchaser keeps the cow on trial for a week. I four farmer friends really want to rid their neighborhoods of sheep killing dogs they might try this plan, devised by a Vir ginia farmer for this purpose. Having suffered severely from the depredations of dogs upon his sheep fold, he built around a number of sheep that dogs had killed, an inclosure of rails twelve feet high and about ten feet square at the ground; the sides of the trap sloped inward until an opening was left about five feet square. Any dog could easily climb a sloping fence aud enter the pen. but not even a grey hound eon Id jump ont of it. In three nights the farmer captured forty-six dogs, including fifteen or twenty that had never been seen in that neighborhood before. This, after there had been a public slaugh tering of all dogs suspected of sheep-kill ing, save one, whose master could not be convinced of his guilt. The trap was built for his benefit, and it caught him the first night. The destruction of fallen apples this sea sou will greatly aid iu lessening the num ber of insects next year. Turkeys should be given full range, as they destroy thousands of insects at this season, when foraging. Kerosene, applied as spray, on the walls, roosts and floors of poultry houses will kill the lice instantly, while the work can also be done in a few minutes. The cellar should be thoroughly cleaned and disinfected now. The air should be allowed to circulate freely, and a dusting of freshly slaked lime given the floor. Whenever the shoulders of a work horse are galled the harness should be examined to remove the cause. A horse in such con dition should not be made to work until a cure is made. Reports of large yields of com from cer tain new kinds should not induce farmers to discard the old varieties, as the soil, ma nure and climate arc the most important factors that enter into the yield of a crop. More butter is injured by keeping the cream too long before churning than in any other manner. The churning should be performed as soon as the cream is ripe, even if there i* only a small quantity to churn. Save the best stalks of corn from which to procure seed, and when the seed is fully matured select the best ears. Seed corn should be allowed to thoroughly dry on the stalk, and when harvested it should be stored in a dry. warm place. Tne cow soon becomes accustomed to the milker, and if treated kindly will cease giving evidence of vices. To strike her places her in fear, aud she will seize every opportunity to kick or move her po sition. Milking should lie performed quiet ly, the cow being given her food just be fore beginning to milk. Dalmatian insect powder, fresh, and kept in air tight tin canisters, is the safest and best remedy for the cabbage worm. Sprinkle it on the cabbage and the worm will be destroyed It very strongly re sembles Scotch snuff. In every case kills the white butterflies seen in the cabbage fields.as the parents of the cabbage worms. Next month grass seed may be sown,as it will grow and become rooted before frost thus getting ati early start in the spring. For lawns a mixture of equal parts of Ken tucky blue grass aud white clover are ex cellent, as both varieties endure the drought well. Weeds will be killed by the lawn-mower next spring if the lawn is mowed frequently. It requires only a few red raspberry plants to afford a large supply of fruit, and the plants quickly become very thick in the rows. The wood of the old canes is cut out during the winter and new canes top j ped in the spring. To have large, well- J flavored raspberries use plenty <>t manure j around the canes, and once a year give J them an application ot wood ashes. An , occasional picking of fruit may be made until frost, as the canes bear for a much longer period than the longer period of harvesting the fruit. Ihe better the cultivation and the richer the soil the larger the fruit. HOMK-M AI>K FKHTILIZI KS.— The farm is. to a certain extent, a manufactory. The , farmer can easily prepare fertilizers on the farm at a reduced cost that will be of bet <j i.iiity than ru be bought. C4uuid«ring the esp.-ii . i.f transportation. bogging, etc. Many Mit.-t.inco- that aro pri>cured , on the uirket a fertilizers can be made tn<>r«' ~or . it-.i .U -.a the farm by changing them in compomtioo. The reduction of bones and other -nfxtance-. that mu-t be pure ha sod, permit- .if the utili.iUon of ma terial.- a.- fertilizers thai can be only pro cured on the farm. If equal weights of bou«» and -uperpho*- pbate be procured th«- latter will contain a larger proportion of free phosphoric acid, readily soluble. while the former will con lain a larger proportion of combined phos phoric acid. The farmer who desire* im mediate r.'-rlts from the use of bone cannot afford to wait until the bones slowly give off their particles, and he is. as a rule. op posed to the manufacture of superphos phate on the farm, owing to the ilanger of using sulphuric weid, which is necessary in changing the insoluble bone into .-oluble phosphoric a. id. but .as the compound* of potash arc soluble (known a* - salts" the bones may be reduced by changing them into something else. Ilone lieing phi«- phate of lime it is insoluble, but by con verting it into phosphate of potash it be comes a- available for plant lood as the free phosphoric acid of superphosphate. To do this the bone- are broken and packed in a hogshead, barrel or cask, with an equal weight of unbleached hardwood ashes. To every 200 pounds of the mixture, twelve pounds of dry lime and fifteen pounds of carbniiate of od.» tua.-liiug .*oda> -hotiUl be added, the whole intimately mixed, when it should lie saturated with water (urine and water is better) and kept moist. The result will be soft and pasty, and there will have occurred several chemical changes and the formation of salts that completely break u,i the original eombina tions. the principal salt beiug phosphate of potash, due to the phosphoric acid leaving the limes ot' the bones and uniting with the | potash. There will also exist in the mass , carbonate cf lime and several salts of monia. the only labor required alter filling the hogshead being to keep the ingredients moist. If urine or fresh manure be added to bones and ashes.and the masses kept moist, heat will quickly be generated, and not only will there be no 10-s of ammonia, but nitrates will be formed. Much depends np ou the degree of heat and the quality of the ashes, but the fertilizer so prepared will l»e rich in potash, nitrogen and phosphoric acid, the three most valuable substances known to exist in fertilizers, aud the bones from animals that die, as well as the flesh, may be utilized in connection with that procured, aud it will thus pay the farmer well to prepare his own fertilizers. Civil Service Examinations. If yon want to be a railway postal clerk. a copyist, a clerk, a poetofiice inspector, a special pensioner examiner, or anything else in the gift of this great and glorious Government, you must go through a civil service examination, and if you cannot pass this civil service examination your name is Dennis or Mud, or anything else denoting that you are left and didn't "get there.'' When you apply for a position under the Government you are furnished a blank ap plication, aud this is put in a numbered envelope. Henceforth yon arc known by that number all through your examination until the result shows that you have, after weary months of waiting, snaked an SBOO clerkship or have been elected to remain at home. The examinations are held at cen tral points in the various States, aud are conducted by gentlemen connected with the examining force of the Civil Service Commission, the applicants being notified to attend on a certain day. Those who arc applicants for positions in the railway mail service arc examined iti spelling, penmanship, copying, letter-writ ing. arithmetic, geography of the I'nited States and railway aud other systems of transportation in the United States, wind iug up by reading the addresses of one hun dred cards, twenty minutes being given for this latter work. The applicants for clerkships in the de partmental service are examined in or thography, penmanship, copying, letter writing, elements of the Knglish language, arithmetic, elements of the geography, his tory and government of the I'nited States. In conducting the examination each can didate is given a printed forui on each sub ject on which the answers are written These forms are filled out and returned to the examiner as soon as finished, and the time occupied in wrestling with the que* tions noted on the blank. These forms are carefully gone over by the Hoard of Ex aniiners. the averages taken and then a general average struck, the latter showing the standing of the competitor. When a new clerk is wanted the aspirant with the highest average takes the cake and its me compauying salary. Learn a Trade, Boys! llurrisburg Telegraph. Boys! -Let Gossip give you a little ad vice. Don't be clerks. Don't imagine that if yon can only get a chance to stand lie hind a counter that you are quite sure to become merchant princes, and when you die die a Stewart or a Wanamaker. The chances are a million to one against you: a million to one that you will continue to be clerks until the coflin lid closes in npon you. Learn a trade. Learn to make some thing; to be useful, fruitful, adding to the world's wealth and to the happiness of your fellow man. Anybody can sell tape and measure calico, aud there is a vast army of men. whom misfortune or physical infirmity takes behind the counter aud keeps there, many of whom would gladly leave it if they were able to do anvthing else. Don't crowd them out. You are strong and able bodied. Be brave and manly us well as strong. Don't impose upon yourself life long drudgery, as yon certainly will do if you enter the army of clerks. And boys! Don't be silly and afraid of being called a "mechanic." Very great men have been mechanics. Those who were intimate with General Cameron know that he oftener referred to the early days when he was numbered among the me chanics than to those later days when he represented the country at a foreigu court or in the Congress of the nation, and he was proud, too, of those early days of hard work. "Mechanic" is a noble title. It in dieates industry, and thrift, aud indejieud enee, and above all else it iudicates use fulness; that you are not a drone but a pro ducer. useful to your day and generation. The remark is often made that the me chanical department of this great nation is rapidly going into the hands of foreigner*, of men trained abroad, in distant lands. This is to our discredit. We ought to be independent of every nation on earth—in dependent in skill, knowledge and useful n< -s. Therefore, boys, let Gossip urge you in nil earnestness to learn a trade; the one you fancy the iK'st; ami learn it well, and wbeu you have learned it you will be rneas urably independent; while the man with out a trade i- always the "-lave of circum stances." —The lad who tails iu hi- effort to rnn away anil be a bandit doe- the bMt be can, and gets a situation as train boy. NO .43
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers