SINGLE COPIE VOLUIffE KIL-NUMBER: 32. Terms of Advertising. .1 Square [lO lines] ',insertion, - - - 50 1 ii it 3 ,c ---$1 5o Each subsequent insertion less than 13, 25 1 Square throe 01011112, 3 50 1_ usix " - 4GO 1 ii nine - " ~ 5 5O 1 " one year, G 0,0 Rule aud figure work, per sq., 3 ins. 300 Very subsequent insertion, So 1 Column sir. months, 18 00 1 14 ~ 41 10 00 • 7 00 . 4( per year. 3O 00 ci 10 00 Divlayel Sin;le-column, each inner- EMI] (Jou less than four, 3 00 F 3actt additional insertion, 2 00 Double-column, displayed, per annum 65 00 • a six mouths,' 35 00 g' • three " 16 00 . • oito Mont tri 0 - 00 - If ,tt per square .•5f l 0 lines, each insertion under 4. 1 00 . 'arts of columns will be inserted at the same rates. Administrator's or arecutor's Notice, 200 Aftor's Notices, each, 1 50 sheriff's Sales, per tract, I 50 )larriag Noticed, each, - 100 Divorce Notices, each, 1 50 Administrator's Sales, per square for 4 insertions, 8115111053 or Professional Cards, each, not exceding 8 lines, per year. - - 500 Special and Editorial Notices, per line, 10 gar All transient advertisements must be paid in advance. and no notice will be takee of advertisements from a distance, unless tiler are accompanied by the money or sa.tisfactor . ,. reference. giltsilttss tailrz. JOHN S. MANN, TTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW, Coudersport, Pa., trill attend the seyeral Courts in Potter and Ar . Kean Counties. All busiae:s entrusted in his CLlr2 will receive _prompt attention. Office on Main et., oppo site the Court House. 10:1 F. W. li.NOX, TTORNEY AT LAW. Coudersport. Pa., will regularly attend the Courts in Potter and the adjoining Counties. 10:1 ARTHUR G. OLMSTED, TTOPNEY S couNsELLon. AT LAW, Coudersport, Pa., will attend to all business ectrusted to his care, with 'promptnes and fidt:ity. Office in Temperance Block, sec ond door, 31aia St. 10:1 ISAAC BENSON 0. T. ELLISON, RACTICING. PHYSICIAN. Coudersport, ra., respectfully informs the citizens of the vil lage and vicinity that he will promply re spond to all calls for professional services. Office on Main st.. in building formerly oc cupied by C. W. Ellis, Esq. P:22 COLLINS SMITH SMITH & JONES, EALERS IN DRUGS, MEDICINES, PAINTS, Oils, Fancy Articles, Stationery, Dry Goods, Groceries, Ic., Main st., Coudersport, Pa. 10:1 D. E. OLMSTED, EALER IN DRY GOODS, READY-MADE Clothing, Crockery, Groceries, &e., Main st., Coudersport, Pa. • M. W. MANN, Ekl,lllt BOfK.S. & STATIONERY, MAG AZINES and dnsic, N. W. corner of Main and Third sts., Coudersport, Pa. 10:1 J. OLIIbTED OL3ISTED 8,;, KELLY, HALER IN STOVES, TIN & SHEET IRON WARE; Main st., nearly opposite the Court House, Coudersport, Pa. Tin nod Sheet Iron \Vare made to ordet. in good style, on short notice. loft COUDERSPORT HOTEL, F, GLASSMIRE, Proprietor, Corner of &tin and Second Streets, Coudersport, Pot ter Co., Pa. 9:44 ALLEGANY HOUSE, AMUR", M. MILLS, Priiprietor, Colesburg Piotier Co., I'a., seven miles north of Con 4irsport. on the WP.llsville Road. 9:44 LY3IAN HOUSE, C. mu's, Proprietor, Ulysses, Potter Cu. Pa.. This House is situated on the East eoreaer of Main street, opposiie A. Corey' 8; Son's store, and is well adapted to meet the Wants of patrons and friends. 12:11-1y. D. L. & M. 11. DANIELS, BALERS IN DRY GOODS, GROCERIES, Re ady -3 lade'Clothing, Crockery, Hardware, Books, Stationery, Hats, Caps, Boots, Shoes,' Paints, Oils, 1ce..., &c., Ulysses, Potter Cu., 4. U' Cash paid for Fars, Hides and Pelt;. All kinds of Grain taken iu exchang. hr . trade.—l2:2o; Z. J. THOMPSON . , 4 R111.4.GE k WAGON XAKEI3 and RE- P4IItER, Coudersport, Potter Co., Pp.., takes this method of informing the pub? he to general that he is prepared • i!cl do all work in his line with 'promptness, 11l a Inorkroan-like manner, and upon the most accommodating terms. Payment for Repairing invariably required on delivery of th work• kinds of PfttliATCP: Nikes on account of work. . . . . . . . , . .. • -. . • r . -:->e7G'4 41 .41" ~','"' - . - -1 - - . , . • . . . • . ~ . • . • - ..... . . . i . • • . . . . . _ . . . . . .- . .-. - -7-I.'"''.----.71:-...1 • . 1 ... . - - "111-1.4.114, •. . . - . , , ' ' .."••••;.____ '. - :. =--•.. f • '. -, - • •t - ''._..;.,. , „::„..,.....,.. e. .... ... ~. . .., .-. ... T r f' , .- ----.-- --: - - -. • '. • - • :-- , •±.-- . , . • • •-• .... 4 -0 1. vi. 1 • - ....,.. '-. , 0 . . ~ . . . . . - .'"'•,.,.. ~...c--- -"' -.5. . 1111 f„.• . . .. - • , _ --, , ---- • , . . . . .. . . . . . - - i .. I •-- ''• . . .. . . S, } - • --r —_-.= - • . ........e...._......_....... . ._ ._ __.... . . , • ~. Coatutt, • My soul thy secret image keeps, My mi. night thoughts are all of thee I For Nature then iu ;Hence sleeps, And silence breods o'er land and sea; . Oh, in that still, mysterious hour, flow oft froM waking dreams I start, To find thee but a fading flower, Thou cherished idol of my heart; Than bait each thought and dream of - mine— Have•l in turn one tltoughl of thiiiir? • Forever thine my dreams shall be, Whatti'er may be my future litre Only ono bson—a gentle tear. May e'er blest visions from above . - Play gel.tly round thy happy heart. And the sweet beams of Peace and Love Neer from thy heart depart. Farewell! My dreams are still of thee— 'last thou one tender thought of me? My joys like summer birds may lly— My hopes like summer blooms depart— But there's one flower that conttot die— Thy holy memory in my heart. • No dews that one flower cup rimy fill, No sunlight to its leaves be given; But it will live and flourish still, As deathless as a thing of Heaven. My soul greets thine, unasked, unsought— Hast thou fur me a gentle thought ? Farewell! farewell, my dearest friend I Between us soon will broad, blue rivers flow, And forests wave, and plains extend,. And mountains in the sunlight glow; The wind that breathes upon thy brow . Is not tlel wind that breathes on mine; • The star-beams shining on thee now Are not the beams that on me shine; But memory's spell is on me yet— Caust thou the holy past forget? 1 50 The bitter tears that thou and I May shed wilenc'er by anguish bowed, Exalted in the nocu-tide s - I:•:. May meet and mingle in the cloud; And thus. my noicli loved friend, though we Far, far :Tart must live and move, Our souls. when Godshall set them free, . Can mingle in the World of Lo This were an extacy to me— Say, would it be a joy to thee?. So I mused all the morning, watering the sentiment with a bit of a shower out of my cloud ; and when the shadows turn cd theinselve , , I went out to see how old age would look to me in the fields and woods. It was a delicious afternoon, were like a warm dream of nay-making, odorous, misty, sleepily musical, than a waking reality, on which the sun shone. Tremulous blue clouds lay down all around upon the mountains; and lazy white ones lost themselves in the waters ; and tiro' the dozing air, the faint chirp of 'robin or cricket, and ding of bells in the woods, and mellow cut of scythe, melted into one sung, as though the heart-beat of the lus cious niidsunititer-time had set itself to " Why .didn't I marry them, thee ? I tune. sir ~abiu. From 11 .A:lantic Hotel+ly M r LAST LOVE. bad counted many more in my girl- hood,-in the first flush ut blossoming,— and a few, good wen and true, whom I never meet even now without an added color, fur, at one time or another,- I thought I loved ecch of them. For the same reason that ninny another woman dues not. We are afraid to trust our own likings. Too many of them are but sunrise vapors, very rosy t 9 begin with, but by mid day as dingy as any old dead cloud with the lain ail shed out of it. I never see any of those old swains of mine, without feeling profoundly thank ful that I don't belong to him. I shouldn't want to look over my husband's head in any sense. So they all got wires and children, and I lived an old maid,—al though I was scarcely conscious of the state; for, if my own eyes or other peu plc's testimony were to be trusted, I didn't look old, and nu quite sure I didn't feel so. But I came to myself on lily thirty • second birthday, au old maid most truly, without benefit of clergy. And thereby hangs this tale ; fur ou that birthday I first made my acquaintance with my last love. EIMEMI3 Something like a month before, there had come to Huntsville two gentlemen in search of game and quiet quarters for the 'summer. They soon found that a hotel in a country village affords little seclusion; but the woods wer• full of game, the mountaimbrookS swarmed with , trout too fine to be given up, and they decided to take a house of their own. After some search, they fixed on an old house, (I've forgotten whose " folly" it was called,) full a mile and a half from town, standing upon a mossy hill that bounded my fields, square. and stiff and weather-beaten, and without any protection except a ragged pine -tree that thrust its huge liinhs be neath the empty windows, as though it were running away with a stolen house under its arm. The place was musty, rat-eaten, and tenanted by a couple of ghosts, who thought a fever, once quite fatal within the walls, no suitable dis charge froM the property, and made them . - selves perfectly free of the quarters in properly weird seasons. But money and labor cleared out all the cub-webs, (tor ghosts are but spiritual cob 7 webs, you know,) and the old house soon wore a charming air of rustic comfort. I used to look over sometimes, for it was full in view from my ohamber-win dows, and see the sportsmen going off by sunrise with . their guns or fishing-rods, or lying, after their late dinner, stretched upon the grass in front of the house, sinokin,g, and reading. Sometimes a frog went of a song would be dropped down from the laiy 'wings of the south wind, sometimes a long laugh filled all the sum mer air and frightened the pine-wood into echoes, and, altogether, the new neighbors seemed to live an enviable life. They OK2EMIId aliaboiet) to ifie, ?iiiiciples of INN qqa 111 e [uy From: the Louisville journal LES TO - COUDERSPORT, POTTER COUNTY, PA. were very civil people, too ; though their nearest path out lay across my-fields, and close by the doorway, and they often stopped to buy frult or creain or buttery we were never annoyed by an impertinent question or look. Once only I overheard a remark not altogether civil, and that' was on the eVening before my birthday., One of them, the elder, went' away from my house with a basket ot chortles, that he should like to get speech with that polyglot old maid, who ,read,l and wrote, and made her own butter-pats. The other answered, that the butter was cellcnt4it any rate,, and perhaps she had a classical cow.; and they Went dowralle.. lace be_ currant-bushes. " I'mlydot old maid 1" I thought, very indignantly, as I went into the house. a mind not to sell them another cake of my butter. But I wonder if peo ple call me an old maid. I wonder if I am one." I thought of it all the evening, and dreamt of it all night, waking the next morning with a new realization of the-sub ject. The first sense of a lost youth ! How sharp and strong it comesl That suddenly opened north door of middle life, through which, the wintry winds rush in sweeping out of the southern windows all the splendors of the earlier time ; it-is like a sea-turn in late summer. It has seemed to be June all along, and we thought• it was June, until the wind went round to the east, and the first,red leaf admonished us: By and by we close, as well as we may, that open door, and look out again from the windows upon blooms, beautiful in their way, to which some birds yet sing ; but, alas' the wind is still from the cast, and blows as though, far away. it had lain among icebergs. I walked on to loiter through the woods. No dust-brush fur brain or heart like 'the boughs of trees'- There dwells a truth, and pure, strong health within them, an ever-returning youth, promising us a glo rious leafage in sonic strange spring -time, and a symmetry and sweetness that pos sess us until our thoughts grow skyward like them, and wave and sing in some sunnier strata of soul-air. In the woods I was a girl again, and forgot the flow of the hours in their pleasant companionship. I must have grown tired and sat down by a thicket of pines to rest, though I have forgotten, and perhaps I had fallen asleep; for suddenly I became conscious of a sharp report, and a sharper pMti in my shoulder, and, tearing off my cape, I found the blood was flowing from a wound just below the joint: I remember little more, for a sud ' den faintness came over we; but I have an indistinct remembrance of people com ing up, of voices, of being carried home, and of the consternation there, and long delay in obtaining the surgeon. The pain of an operation, brought, me fully to my senses ; and when that was over, I was left alone to sleep, or to think Over my situation at leisure. I'm afraid I had but little of a Christian spirit then. All my plans of labor and pleasure spoiled by this one piece of carelessness ! to call it by the mildest term. All those nice little flin cies that should have grown into real flesh and-blood articles for my publisher, hung up to dry and shrivel sithout shape or comeliness ! The garden, the dairy, the 11047 Lica cut -141, 5 -o wo . y. throcsgirtho beeols es,—my pet scheme,—the hew music, the sewing, all laid upon the shelf for an in definite tune, and I with no better employ ment than to witch the wall-paper, and to wonder if it wasn't almost dinner or supper-time, or nearly daylight ! To be sure,l knew and thought of all the int proving reflections of a sick-room ; but it was much like a mild-spoken person mak ing peace among twenty quarrelsome ones. You can see Idia making mouths, but you don't hear a word he says. A sick mind breeds fever fast in a sick body, and by night I was in a high fever, and for a day or two knew but little of what went on about me. One of the first things I heard, when. I grew easier, was, that my neighbor, the sportsman, was wait ing below-to hear how I was. -It was the younger one whose gun hacrwonnded me; and ie had shown great solicitude, they said, coming several times each . day to in quire for me. Ile brought some birds lo becooked for me, ton,—and came again to bring some lilies he had gone a mile to fetch, he told the girl. Every day he kgilmtioli of i iiljoh#l9, 410. If.eb,s"! / HURSDA ' 1 Ak'RIL 26 1 1860. quire; or to bringsouleVicacy, owers, or a new 61, ,, a2ine for the report of hi . isit 'carne to peeted excite varied. ays wonderfplly. ness and are a neW birth to our senses, s.'' Not only do we get a real cattle to or a fe one, tint be an 'e the dull see'usio ofteuti glimpse f ourselves,7lundecketl and .uri clothed, ut the commonest habits of life, I and th them d , e hinds that' have helped to shape glimpse f bv day, put 'pa a sort of strange ness, a d come to shake hands with us i'again,-:and make ttS I wonder that they shoultthe ju.t exactlyiwhat they are. We getl4teite. primitive Aeaning.'ofithem,stS, ils.s-riibbed off ggLyign -of life ' ~,,,1 1 4- e'rro — aa nowxi - I. tareacts were woven ;, and they come and ,go before us with a sort of old newness tl at affects us much' as if we-should meet Sur own ghost some time, and wonder if we are really our own or some other person' housekeeper. I went through allthis, and came out I. with a stock of sma,l facts beside,—as that the paper-hanger had patched the,i hangings in my chamber very badly - in; certain dark spots, '(1 had got several; headaches, making it out,)—that the chimney'was a little itto much on one side, —that certain board in the entry-floor creaked of their own 4ccord in the night, —that Neighbor Brown had tucked O - few' new shingles into thelloof of his barn, so, that it seemed to hays broken out with ; them,—and any number of other things equally imptatant: At length I got down stairs, and was allowed tosee a few friends, Of course there wasi an inundation of thew ; and each one expected to hear my story, and to tell a companion one, some thing like mine, onlyi-little more so. It was astonishina, the immense number of people that had been hurt with'guns. No wonder I was.sick fora day or two after ward... I was more rudent next time, however, and, as the gossips had got all they wanted, I saw_ my my particular friends. Among the ,e my neighbor, the sportsman, .insisted on being reckoned, and after a little hesittl fit] awe were oblig- ed to admit him., I say we,—fur, on hearing of my injury; my good cousin, Mary Mead, 1 had cotnelto nurse and amuse me. She was one of those sfe, service able, amiable people, made ofjost the stuff for a satellite, and she proved invaluable to me. She was imMensely taken with Mr. Ames. too, (I spak of the ybunger, for, after the first call, of condolence, the elder sportsman never came,) anclqo her I left the task of entertainiw, ° 'him, or rather of doing the honors. of the house, —for the gentleman Contrived to enter tain himself and us. Now don't imagine the man a hero, for he was no such thing. He He was very good looking,—someMight say handsome,— well-bred, well edueated, with plenty of coininso information picked - up in a pro. wiscuous intercourse With town and coun try people, rattier fineitaStes, and a great, strong, magnanimousi i physical 'nature, modest, but perfectly slf•conseit,us. That was his only; charm fo. toe. I despise a mere animal; but, other things being equal, I admire a man who is big and strong, .and aware of his advantages ; and I think =St women and very refined ! ones, too, love phlical beauty and strength much more) tiban they are will ing to aeknoWiedge. , boll had the same l adiniration for Mr. Ain. es that I should I have had for any othei; finely proportion ed thing ; and enjoyed him very much, sittine• quietly in my corner while he chat ted with Mary, or tot& me stories - of trav el or hunting, or read aloud, which he soon fell into the way Of doing. We did try,. as much al hospitality per mitted, to confine his visits to a few cer emonious calls; but ho persisted in com— ing almost every day, and walked-in past the girl with that quit Sort o a f authority which it.is so ditfithrlt Itoresist. In the seine way lie: took possession of Mary and me. -He was sure it Must be very dull for both of ut ; therefoe he was going, if we would pardon the 1, hefty, to offer his services as reader, whileuil , nurse went out for r ride or a walk. ! Couldn't I sit ont..under the-shadow of the he:inh.tview, as well as iu ;that bet- roan' ? He could lift the chair and me r ier featly well, and arrange all. so that I shbuld be 'cainforta hie. . He would like to superintend the cooking of some birds 4 broughCone day. Ile noticed that the g:irrdidn't do them quite as nicely as- be had learned to do them in' the ia , oods. - !and so in a thou. sand , things he quictlylmade undo as he chose, without seetairk,g to outrage any rule of propriety. When I was able to sit in a carriage, he.persnatied me to drive with him; and I had tp lean on his arm, when I first went round the place to see how matters went on. • Once I Vietested ainst his making cl ! a himself so necessary t , us, and told him - that I didn't care to ft;'rnislt the gossips so much focil as we were 'doing. When I fuelled him 'Mit of doors, .be would certainly stay away,i. he said; but - he thought, thp, as long as I was au invalid, I needed sane one to !think and-act for me and save me the- trouble, and, as no one eise seined disposed to take the of fice, he thdight it cs . a.i rather- his duty ! 1 MI and•privilegerespecially, lie added, with a. slight smile, is he,Was quite - sure that! it WAS not very disagreeable to us. Asi for the gossips, he didn't think they Wont& Mike muck out of it: with such an excel lent duenna as Cousifi Mary,-7--and, deed, he heard the other day that he was; paying attention to.her. • I tl7ought it all over by "myself, Wheni, he had - gone, and came tothe conebisii,n; that it was not necessary for motto resign so zreat a pleasitre as his 'society had b come, merely for the fear of What a few; curious people Might say.: ',Even can V. oda as:slier protested 'against, baw•-: a little talking over of the matter among', ourselves, we decided to let Mr. Ames come as often as he chase, for the remain ing month of his stay. That month went rapidly enough, for was well enough to ride and walk out, and half the time had Mr.. Ames to ac company me. • I got to Value. him. very much, as . I knew him better, and as he grew acquainted with my peculiarities; and we were the best friends in the world, without a thought of being more. No one would have laughed at that more than we, there-vas such an evident unsuitable ness in the idea. At length the time came foi him to leave Huntsville; his house was closed, except one room where he still preferred to remain, and his friend was already gone. He came to take tea with. us for the last time, and was as agreeab!e as ever, although' it evidently required some effort to do so. Soft- heart ed Cousin Mary broke down and went off crying when he bade her good-bye, after tea ; but I was not of such stuff, and augh, ingly rallied him on the impression he had made. "Get your bonnet, and walk over to the stile with me, Miss Rachel," he said.. "It isn't sunset quite yet, and the afternoon is warm. Come ! it's the last walk we shall take together." I followed him' out, and we went al most silently across the fields to the hill that overlooked the strap of meadow be tween our-houses. There was the stile over which I . had looked to see him spring, many a time. "Sit down a moment, until the sun is quite dawn," he. said, making room for me beside im on the topmost step. "See how splendid that sky is! a pavilion for the gods!" - "I should think they were airing all their finery," I answered. " It looks more like a counter spread with bright 'goods than anything else I can think of." " That's a:decidedly vulgar comparison, and you are not in a spiritual mood at all," he said. " -You've snubbed me two or three times tonight, when I've tried to be sentimental. What's amiss with! you ?" and he bent his eyes, ull of a sau cy sort of triumph, upon mine. "I don't like parting with, friends ; it , sets'ine all awry," I said, giving back his I own self-assured look. I . wa's sorry to I have him go; but if he thought I was go ing to cry or blush, he was mistaken. " You'll write to me, Miss Rachel ?" he asked. . " No, Mr. Ames,—not at all," I said. "Not write? Why not?': he asked, in astonishment. "Because I don't believe in galvaniz ing dead friendships," I answered. " Dead friendships,. Miss. Rachel ? I hope .ours has much life in it yet, he said. " It's in the last agony, Sir. It will be comfortably dead and buried before long, with a neat little epitaph overit,=—which is much the best way to dispose of them finally. I think:" " You're harder than I thought you were," ho said. "Is that the 'way you feel towards all your friends ?" " I love my friends as well as any one," I answered. "But I never hold them when they wish to be gone. My life-yarn spins against some other yarn,! catches the fibres, and 'twists into the very heart"— " So far? " be asked, turning his eyes down to Mine. it Yert," I said,.eeollyrraifor the time being. You don't play at your friend ships, do you? If so I pity you : . As I was saying, they're like one thread. By and-by one spindle is moved, the: strands spin away from each other, and' become strange yarn. What's the use of send ing little locks of wool across to keep them acquainted 1 They're two yarns from henceforth. Reach out for soma other thread,—there's "plenty near,"—and spin into that. We're made all up l of little locks from other people, Mr. Atnesi Won't it"be strange, in that great Hereafter, to hunt up our own fibres, and return other people's ? It wo xld take about forty-five degrees of an eternity to do that." " I shall never return mine,"he said. " couldn't take myself4o pieces in such a style. But , won't you write at all?" " "To what purpose ? You'll be! glad of one letter,—possibly of two. The it will I be, 'Confound it ! here's a missive from that old maid ! What a bore I ' Now I suppose - I must air my wits in heribehalf; but, if you ever catch me again,'--:•Erit." " and you ?" he asked, laughi g. 'IL. - -Jr . • 0, - }. ME FOUR CENTS. TERNS,--$1.25 PER, ANNWI shall be aa weary as - you, and and it as difficult to , keep warmth in the Om dying bod,y. =No, Mr.' Ames. JAt- the poor thing die a natural death; and-wail wear a bit of (nape a lietluwhile, and get a new friend for the old?! . • "So you mean to ;forget \mo • alto. getlter ?' I ‘g No, indeed I shall recollect you as a very pleasant tale that is taldr=not friend to hanker after. - I. Isn't Alm& good common sense ?" . • "It's . all head- work,-tmere cold ceps laden," he said ;:" Whiin 1,";--;--11e - stop• •.ed and coloied. - • - • rreurgo - a - ,li e, are downright:Wei:- coats," I said, coming doWn from the stile. Their red Mantles are nothing but pearl colored now, and presently they'll be rus set-gray. That whippoorwill always brings the dew, with him, too; so -I - must.go home. Good-night, _and good-bye, Mr. Aines." " I scarcely know how to part with you," he said, taking my hand. -"lt's not so easy a thing to -do." " People say, Good-bye,' or 'God bless iyou,' or some such civil phrase,"nsually," if said, with just the least curl of tny i lip, ,L---for I knew I had got the better of bins. 1 ' He colored again, and then •smilod a :little sadiy. " Ah ! I'm afraid,l leave alarger look than I take," exclaimed. " Well,. 'then, good friendi good bye, had God bless you, too ! Don't be quite so bard as you promise to be." I missed him very taueb,indeed ; •but . if any think I cried after him, or wrote Verses, or soliloquized for his sake. they - Are much mistaken. I had lost friends-- before, and made it a pointio think just its little of thew as_possible, untilthe sore !spot grew strong enough to handle with out wincing. Besides, my cousin stayed Ivith me, and all my good friends In the Village had come out for a call or-a visit to see how the land Jay so I had occupa-: tion enough. Once in a while I used to look over to the old house, and wish for one go .d breezy conversation with its mas ter; and when the-snow came and lay in (me mass upon the old ripf, clear down to the eaves, like a night-cap pulled-down to the eves of a low-brow-ed old woman, I moved my bed against the window that. looked that way. These forsaken nests are g,looihy things enough I . • ' I had no thought of .hearing agaiw_of him or from him, and wa.s surprised, when, In a inotalt, a review came, and before long another, and afterwards a box, by epress, with a finely .kept bouquet,-and mid winter, a little oil-paintiug,--a de licions bit of landscape for my sanctum, he said in the note that accoinpanied it:. • I heard frtin him in this way all Win,- ter, although I never sent Word or mes sage back again, and tried to think I was sorry that he did not,forget me, as I had supposed ho would. Of course i never: thought of acknowledging to myself that_ it was possible for me. toloVe him. I was to{' good a sophist for : that ; and,.indeed, I think that betwean a- perfect friendship and a perfect hive a .fainter distinction exists than many people imagine. I have known likings to be colored as rosily -as loVe, and secu what !called itself love as cold as the chilliest-liking. One day, after spring had been some Lbhe come, I was returning from a_ walk and saw that Mr. Ames's house was open. I Could not see any person there ; but the dony and windows were opened, and a . faint smoke crept out-of the chimney nod up! among the new spring foliage - after the squirrels. I had walked some (lilt.. tance, and was tired, and the weather Was . not perfect; but I thought . I would go round that way and see what was geirtw on: It was one of those charming chill- . dafvs in early May, 'laughing and crying_ all; in ohe,- the fine mist-drops shining down in the sun's — rays, like star-dust from some new world in process of rasp-- ing . up for use. I liked such days.. 'The showers were as good for me as for the trees. I grew and budded-under them, and they filled my soul's soil full of sing ing brooks. • ;When I reached the-lawn before 'the door, Mr. Ames came outto see use,—so glad to meet that he held pit band and drew me - in, asking two or three times how I was•and if I were glad to see hiM. Ile had called at the _house and seen CoUsin Mary, on his way over, he for he was hungering for a sight of as. He was not looking as - well, as tvhon. he left in autumn,—thiritter, paler. and with a more anxious expression -when he, was not speaking; but when - I began to 'talk with him, he . brightened up, and seemed like his old self. Ile had two or three woikwen already tearing down . portions of the finishing, and after a few moments asked me to go round and see what im provements he was to make. -We stopped at last at his chamber, a roamlhat looked threugh the foliage towards my house.. "This is my )oducring..place, . he said, - pointing to the 'sofa beneath the window. I "I Shall sit here with my cigar and watch' yod this summer; so 'be .circumspect I But are you sure that yett.are glad to sea iuo '?!" . . EMI
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers