Newspaper Page Text
VOl4. XX. --- NO 36.
...._,..____ . .
fel)t , Aoitatot.
pun... EVKIVE TUESDAY TM
./3.a. rt. ZoTM G E:g SCO 1 /x .77 r' • .
A. f.RkII.NES, _
tr TERMS :--$2,00 per annum in advance. 'all.
RA TES OF ADVERTISING .
nuie. I its 2 In. 9 in. 11n. 1, ( .1Col Neel 1 Col. L
si 00 $2OO $3OO SJ, 00 $6OO $OOO $l4 o 0 -
1 ‘ ...e. k 1 rti 300 400 600 70011 0 1
)W 0.101 , 0 000
3 Weela 200 300 500 000 80013 DO 18 DO
111,}1. , th ,2 50 400 0 001 700 80015 00 20 00
I l i n p i s 1 4UJ 6 00 0 00 10 00112 00`20 00 18 00
3 yt„ ; 0.1H1 5 00 803 12 00 LS 00 15 00 25 00 35 00
6 r. 13 80012001800 20 00 2'2 (10 35 00 00 00
i r e3r . 12 00 13 UJ 25 00 28 00 35 00 30 00 100 00
Adirorusemeutsarooalculated by th , clucli In length
at c'oloinu, and any less gptiO la rated a full Inch.
Forolgu advertisements Must be paid for before in
-6.lrtion,o xcept on yearly contracts, when half-yearly,
li tyraehts in advance will 1.),3 required.
POLITICAL Nortecs, 20 eo. As per line each insertion.
Nothing baserAlor leas than $ l.
Busts aa , N YTICERiII the EaROEILII columns. on the
a3coral page, 5...001s Per line each insertion. Noth
ing luaerteo for teas than, 1.
I, oonr. NOTI CES 111 Local column, 10conte per line if
more Alum five fines; and 50 cents for n notice of five
Rues or less.
A ersourrenstvirs of ISlAnatanao and VET al naorted
tree ; but all obituary notices will ba char ed 10 cents
SPECIAL NOTICES 50 per cent a'boveregulat rates
firsts vo Omme 5 lines or loss, $5,00 perjear.
---- 'r---• i •
Bit simess ',Cards.
I. R. IikTeITELIna
Batchelder & Johnson, ,
goatiAlirers of Monuments, Tombstones, Table
Top 3, c u suters, &e. Call and see. Shop, 'Wahl at.,
Foundry, Wellshoro„ 'e.—July 3, 1872. '
A. Redlie d, •
LRRINEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW.—Collect
joug yrJulpily atteoLleil to.—Lwsrenceville, iclga
'may, P.llll'n., Apr. 1. I/5724m. •
C. H. Seymour,
LA.W, All imainusti eu
tiaztoi will receive prcanut Ett;eutroU.-
Cleo. W. Alerriek,
At AjaSEI: AC L —Well9Lo) C.. P... plli~e to
4,10.0 a 0.1 .-Culf.tEint Ottlee.
q u inirs6 LAW, Claim and li:sartsuir Allenta.
thact 14uaVer.iu ilitaum brick blocb,. ov t
,ul,rsp Store, %Nellsboro, Pa.—Jan. 1,
11701INEY AT LAW, over C. I B. Kelley's Dry aeon
6tore, ltiilght S ltailey's Block ou AJA)II street.
Wellsboro, Jau. 1, 187'2.
ITORNEI: AT LAW & PISTItIeT ATTORNEY.—
o/C0 VI Ith J . 11. N iles, Esq., WiAlsboro, -Jun. I, '79
C. N. Dartt,
DEN r ir.—To. , th matte with the 118 AV 1111110VitENT.
IVtit.th e better satistactiou than any thin else
use. Oi&t, tu• Wright 5: nailoy's Block. Wnlls.
bore, Oct. 15, 157:1.
J. B. Niles,
fOllnT AT LAW.—Will attend promptly to bus
eutra,ted to his care iu the counties of Maga
and Putter. Office on the Areuue.—Wellsboro,
JO. W. Adttnis,
krromiy.y AT LXW, Mansfield, Tioga county, Pa
Wham's prompty attended to.—Jau. 1, 1872.
C. L. Peck,
ATTORNEY AT LAW. All clainap promptly collected
UAW mth W. 13. Smith, liuoarille, Tivga
U. B. Kelly.
Dealer tufero.tery, China and Olaass ware, Table Cut,
nail Plated Ware. Also Table and House lour
atslaq Ccuedg.—Wellsburo, Pa., Sept. 17, 1872.
Jno. W. Guernsey,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.—AII business entrusted to him
Will be prunipti) MA •tided to.—Othee Ist door south. -
‘Yiekuank .v. Farr's store, Toga, Tiog,a county. Pa.
Jas. 1, 1872,
Armstrong & Linn,
iTTOILNEYS AT LAW, Willlawspott, Pa.
W. U. ARMSTRONG. I
"Win. B. Smith,
PENSION ATTORNEY, county and Insurance Agent
C,mraunicatfonm sent to the above address Will re
ceire prompt attention. Terms moderate.—Enox
cille,la. Jan. 1, MI.
Barnes it Roy,
JOB PRINTERS.—A.II kinds of Job Printing done on
Coon notice, and in the best manner. Oi licein Bow
tr, a Cone's flock, 2d floor.—Jan. 1, 1872.
Sktaivn,LE, Tioga Co., Pa.—Benn Bro's. Proprietors
This house has been thoronghly renovated and is
now iu good condition to accomidate the traveling
public in a superior resnner..—„Jan. 3, 1873.
D. Bacon, M.. D.,
PHYSICI IN AND SURCirEON—May be , -tontid at his
dice Ist floor Etst 'of Miss Todd's—Main street.
Wiii ahead prottiptly to all calls.—Wellsboro, Pa.,
Jan, 1, 1872.
Seeley, Coats & Co.,
IiuSKEItS, Knoxville, Tloga Co., Pa.—lieselve money
&vomit, diseonut notes, and sell drafts on New
luck City. Collections promptly roade.
MOea SF.ELEY, 013C0013. NLNE CRANDALL,
JCL 1, 1572., DAVID COATS, EDOTVIIIO
Wr.irlIELD, PA., Gco. Close, Proprietor.—,-Good se
eorrnociation for both wan and beast. Charges rea
muable, and good attention given to guests.
Jan. 1, 1872..
W. W. Burley,
MANUFACTURER OP all styles of light and heavy
Carriages. Citrriages kept constantly on band. All
Work warranted. Corner Cass and Buffalo Streets,
Ihrnellsville, N. Y. Orders left with C. Kelley,
Wohhero, or E. R. Burley, Chatham, will receive
Prompt attention.—June 3, 11373*-6 mos. •
M. L.. Sticklin,
DEALER in Cabinet Ware of all kinds which will be
sold lower than the lowest, lie invites all to take
fl look at his goods before purchasing elsewhere.-
- Remember the place—opposito Darti's Wagon Shop;
West Main Street, Velisboro. Feb. 25, 1873-Iy.
Mrs. Mary E. Lamb.
MILLINERY. --Wishes to inform her friends 'and the
pnlitie generally that she has a large stock Of Millin
ery and Fancy Hoods suitable for the season. which
will be sold at reasonable prices. Mrs.' Jr. E.' Mea
l/an has charge of the making anti /trimming de-
Ortment, and willgive hur attention exclusively to
It. Next door to this Converse 4; Williams Block.—
July s, 1.373.-tf. •
Yale & Van,,Uoru.
lie /re Manufacturing several'hmnds of choice Cigars
Watch we will sell at pries that cannot but please
cue customers. We uso mono but the best Conneet
teal. Havana and Yarn Tobaccos. We make our own
cigar, and for that
,reason can warrant them. We
have a general assortment of good Chewing and
heeling Tobaccos, Snuffs, P pes from clay to the
hest Meerschaum, Tobacco Pouches, dm., whole
elle and retail.-Dec. 21, 1872.
John R. Anderon, Agt.
..s tLE & RETAIL DEALER IN HARDWARE.
'atores, Iron, Steel, Nails, Rotten Trimmings, Me
thnues"rools, Agricultural Implements, Carriage
060,1 5, Axles, Springs. Rims. Am., Pocket and Table
eltlory, Plated Ware, Guns and Ammunition, Whips,
kan 3 P3 —a ood and iron—the best in use. Manufac
turer and dealer in Tin, Copper., and Sheet-iron
' Ware. Rooting in Tin and Iron. .11 il work warrant
t I .—Jan. 1, In 3. •
ST. & THE AVENUE,
Located. and is in good condition
raveling public. The proprietor
.0 make it n first-class house. All
1 depart from this house. Free
trains. Bober and Industrious bost
STOCK OF B&%VER, DROAD.
(MERE, VO3TiNGS. AND ,TRIM;
11 sell very cheap FOS CASH. Tn
talent of Goods ever brought to
us styles. Please call and look
'ergoate, and Repairing done with
as the cheapest.
andeliers & Brack6ts
Life, Fire, ancVdecidental.
Alcuaania ' of Cleveland. Ohio 420,033.44
New York Life and Fire Ins. Co ...... .21,000,000
Royal his. Co:, of Liverpcfol .. 10,615,501
Lancashire, of Manchester, Capital,.. 10,000,000 '
Ins. Co., of North America, Pa $2,050,625 GO
Franklin Fire Ins. Co. of Phila. Pa..., ~$,087,452 28
Republic Ins. Co. of N. Y.. Capital $750,000
Niagara Firo Ina. Co. of N. It" r 1 000,000
Farmers Mut. Fire Ins. Co. York Pa. —909,889 15
Pbcenix Mut. Life Ins. Co. of I.fariTord Ct.. 5,081,070 tit)
Penn'a Cattle Ins. Co. of Pottsville.... 600,000 00
Total $55,431,451 94
iuettrance promptly.effected by mail or 4 otherwiaa,
on al/ kinds otßroPerty. - Ali losses promptly acljuated
and paid at my Gine°.
All communications promptly upended to—Offleo on
Mai Street 2cl door from Main et., Kborißle Pa.
• B. SMITH
Jay. 1. 187S-tf. Agent.
Geneol: Insurance Agency,
, NELSON, r TIOOA CO.,
J• IL &J. D. CAMPBELL ,
ARE issuing policies in the Tollowing Companies
against ilre and lightning in 'Plop and Potter
QUEEN. ..Assets. $10,000,000.00
CONTDIENTAL of New York .. .....2,509,626.27
HANOVER, of New York —983,381.69
GERMAN AMERICA.N, New York 1,272,000.0
WYOMING, or Wilkesbarre, Pa 219,698.42
WILLIAMSPORT, of Wm'sport 113,06 G 00
All business promptly ahended to by mall or other
wise. Losses adjusted andraid at our mike.
Nelson, Dec. 19, 1872-Iy.
V.. A. 2011.103011.
HASTINGS & COLES
Taints, Oils, Glass, Putty,
Brushes, Trusses, Supporters, awl
HORSE & CATTLE POWDERS;
Artist's Goods In Great Variety,
Liquors, Scotch Alen, Cigars, Tobacco, Snuff, &c., &c.,
PEET. a. 'S' : I • ' ' ' tet •E.
Groceries, Sugars, Teas,
CANNED AND 'DRIED FRUIT,
Shot, Lead. Powder and Caps, Lamps, Chimneys,
Whips, Lashes, SM.
BLANK & MISCELLANEOUS
All School Books in use, Envelopes. Stationery, Bill
and Cap Paper, Initial paper, Memorandums, lar g e
and small Dictionaries. Legal paper, school Cards and
Primers, luk, Writirer Fluid, Chess and Back g ammon
Boards. Picture Frames, Cords and Tassels, Mirrors,
Albu m s, Paper Collars and Cuffs, Cro q uetts, Base
Balls, parlor g ames, at wholesale and retail.
Wallets, port monies, combs, pins and needles,
scissors, shears, knives, violin strings, bird cages.
A great variety of pipes, dells, inkstane.s, measure
Fishing Tackle, best trout flies, lines, books,
baskets and rods.
Special attention paid to this line in the season
TOILET AND FANCY ARTICLES.
AGENTS FOR AMERICAN STEAM SAFES
VILLAGE LOTS for sale in the central part of the Bore
MRS. C. P. SMITH,
J'AS Just return from Now Yolk with thelargest
assortment of •
MILLINERY ANDiFANCY GOODS
ever brought into Welb3boro, and will - give her custom
ers reduced prices. She has a splendid assortment
of ladies snits, Parasols, Gloves, rags, real and imi
tation hair goods, and a full line of ready made white
goods. Prices to suit all.
tau. 1, 1372.
GO AND SEE
EDWARD SSYD.E.I,I offers his service to:the public
as a Surveyor. Ile will tie ready to attend prompt-,
ly to all calls. Ile may ho found at the law once of
If. Sherwood & Son, in, Wolisboro, or, 'Ws reel
deuce on East Avenue.
Wellsboro, Pa., May 13, 1873—tf.
ir ETC 11 AIS & COLTS proprietors. First-class rigs
12%.. furnished at reneonable rates. Pearl street, op.
posits Wheeler's Nyagon Bhp.
. A PUBLIC HACK
will be on the street at all reasonable -hours. - Pass.
angers to and from the depot to any part of the town
will be charged twenty-flee cents. -For families or
small parties for pleasure, one dollar per hour.
Wellsboro, July 15, 1873. KETCHAM' & COLTS.
' THE NEW
Sewing Machin e I
The Great Family - Seining Machine of the
- --Civili il TVorkl. . ..
700,000 Wlieeler Witson Finnily Sewing
Machines now in list.
/VIM improvements lately added to this Celebrated
1 Machine have made it by far the moat desirable
Family Machine in the market and have given an im
petus to the sale of it, never before equaled in the
history of Bewiefalachines.
Examine for yourself; consult your own interests
In buying a Sewing Alaenius, and .
DO NOT ALLOW 'YOURSELF
by that ,too common illusion, ..that all LoCk-Stiteli
Sewing ,Machines are good, enough, or that any Ma
chine will answer your purpose if it makes the
stitch-411e on both sides of the fabric.
EXAMINE WELL THE CONSTRUCTION OF • THE
MACHINE YOU HUY,
and not pay your money f o ra heavy-running, slow-
MoUoned, noisy, coreplicased Machine, thrown to
in such a manner as to last just lone, enough
to wear out both ycur body and patience.
There is a great distinctive difference= between the
Wheeler 4k.. Wilson and all other Machines that maim
the Lock Stitch. And it is to this difference that we
wish to especiallysall your attention.
_. . .
It ItiokeS the Lock, (or Shuttle Stitch,) 'buG,
does it without a Shuttle! •
Thereby, dispensing with the shuttle and all mach v ery
required to run a shade; also doing away vdth the
take-up that in to be found in all shuttle fa chines;
and owing to tha peculiarity of its roust -On*
ONLY ONE TENSION LAIEQU ..D.
while all oilier locii-stitch Machines litre two.
GEO.'ROBINS i , Agent,
March 24. '73-am. '- '' , i 1111.5.130110, PA.
F , Soc..,
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HNOXVILLEi 11001.. CO., ra
ASSETS OVER $55,000,000.
Assm or Counting.
HASTINGS & COLES
TO BE BLINDED
L. V. T3IIII4IAV.
TRUMAN & CO.,
New Firm, New Goods,
- A large stock of
FOREIGN & DOMESTIC,
yabies press Opobs,
A,LAPACAS, POPLIIVS, CAM
' BRIGS, FRENCH JA CO N
ETS, 0R G A INDIES,
BLACK j , 'COLOR.ED SILKS,
Beautiful Summer Shawls,
Best Wbite A. Sugar, 127 1 cents.
at very low prices. We keep the beet 50 cent Tea in
A large stock of Crockery.
Opera House Mock.
May 6, 1873
We have Shed the,Shanty 1
if hiIIALIMIN 0( CO
Pana now have but time to ti:ty o our friends and
Our Elegant New Store
Cnil and you will know bow It Is St Elrselve6,
WELLSBORO, TIOGA CO., PA.. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 9,. 1873.
W. VAN VALEENBUNCi
Mistylee, colors and patterns,
HATS & CAPS,
arta plenty of cloth to make more.
A large and choke stock of
Call and see us.
TRUNIAN & 0,0
TIOGA, PA. t
(=towers that wt. tome good
In filled MI of
%t the lowest prices to be t ivied.
TA. BALDWIA ' & CO.
Robert of Lincoln.
'nanny swinging on brier and weed,
Near to the nest of his Ilitce dame. , -
Over the mountain-stile or mead,
Robert of Lincoln is teLUng Ida name;
Spink, spank, apink;
Snug and safe is that nest of ours;
Hidden among the summer dowels, •
Chet. chco, chee.•
Robert of Lincoln is gaily drest,
Wearing a bright - blacii wedding co t;
White are his shoulders inid.white is his crest;
Hear him call in his merry notic
Spink, spank, mink,
Look, what a vice new oda! is mine,
Sure there never was bird so flue,
Chec, ehee, Ghee.
Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife,
Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings,
Passing at home a patient life,
Broods in the grass while her husband sings
Spiuk. spank, spink;
Brood, kind creature, you need not fear .
Thieves and robbers while lam here, -
Cbee, Ghee, choe.
fd'udest and shy as a nun is she;
One - weak chirp is her only note, -
Braggart and prince of braggarts is he,
Pouring, boasts from his little throat;
Spink, spank, spink,
Never was I afraid of man;
Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can.
Chee, Mice, ebee.
Six white eggs on a bcd of hay,
Flecked with purple. a pretty sight
There as the mother sits ail day,
Robert is singing with all his might,
Bob-o -link , bob-o'-link,
Sphik. spank, spit*,
Nice good wife, that never goes out,
Reepiughouse while I frolke about,
Ohee, thee, thee.
Soon as tho little ones chin,the shell,
Six wide mouths aro open for food;
Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well,
(lathering seeds for the hungry brood,
This new life is bluely to be
Hard for a gay young fellow like me.
Came, chee, ohm
Robert of Lincoln at length is made
Bober with work. and silent with care;
Otr is his holiday garment laid,
Ralf forgotten that merry air.,
_ Bob-o'-link, boli-I•3'-link, -
Nobody knows but my mate and I
Where our neat and our nestlings Ile.
Übe% thee, chee.
Summer %%IMO, the children are grown:
Fuu and frolic no more he known ;
Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum crone;
Off he Wee, and we sing an be goes,
Syria, spank, spink;
When you can pipe that merry old strain,
Robert of Lincoln, cornea back again,
()bee; thee, ehee.
BY OEO. W. REARS
Let us say the lives of our sires are, lost.:
That ever our hopes elude and fade;
That the ages are blackened and battle-tossed,
And we gain no Steil in a long decade:
What then ? shall the wrong and crime exhanst
Eternal Justice? and shall no shade
Remain of the life that is crushed and crossed?
Let us say we have gained so much on time,
That we hold some good which their lives have bought
That not in vain at wrong and crime
Have freedom's battles been aimed and fought;
That even failure may be sublime
In its fearfni . cost, in the lessons taught.
And Its deathless lay in the - realms of rhyme.
And all of the good we hold to-Aay
llas cost us ages of toil to wring
Vtorn Hebrew letter, from usage gray,
And the harpy clutches of priest and king
We work and watt for the better way
The snail-paced ages are slue to bring;
But we grind the bayonets as we pray.
(him and =eery, we work and wait;
Por the brighter dawning shall come at last,
We shall find the key of the golden gate,
And take a bond for the bitter past;
And kings antrprelates shall yield to fate
When none of us pay or pray or fast
Per the harlot wedding of Church and State.
—Old and 'New
The Widows•and the Strangers.
AN OLD FASHIONED FAIRY TALE.
Once on a time twopoor old widows lived
in the same hamlet and under the same roof.
But though the cottages joined and one roof
covered them, they bad each a separate
dwelling; and although they were alike in
age and circumstances, yet in other respects
they were very different; for one dame was
covetous, though she had little to save,' and
the other was liberal, though she had little
to give. ,
Now, on the rising ground opposite the
widows' cottages stood a monastery where
a few pious and charitable brethren spent
their time in prayer, labor, and good works;
and with the alms of these monks, and the
kindness -of neighbors, and because their
wants were few, the old women dwelt in
tolerable comfort—had daily bread, and lay
Now one evening when the covetous old
woman was having supper there came a
knock at the door. Before she opened it
she hastily put away the remains of her
meal—" for," ,said she, "it is a stormy
night, and ten to one some belated vaga
bond wants supper; and when there are
victuals on the table, every fool must be
asked to sup." , -
When, however, she opened the door, a
monk, with his cowl pulled over his head to
shelter him from the storm, stepped into the
cottage. litieh disconcerted at having kept
one of the brotherhood waiting, the widow
loudly apologized, and dusted a chair for
her reverend guest;ibut the monk stopped
her string of regrets; adding, " I fear I cut
short your evening meal, my daughter."
" Now, in the name of illAick 'how came
he to guess that?" thought the widow, as
with anxious civility she began to press the
monk to take some supper after his,walk;
for the good woman always felt' hospitably
inclined toward any one, who was
- likely to
return her kindness sevenfold.
The brother however refused to sup; and
as he seated himself the widow looked
sharply through her spectacles to see if she
could gather from any charitable distention
of the folds of his frock whether a loaf, a
-bottle of cordial, or a- new winter's cloak
was most likely to crown the visit. No un
due protuberance being visible about the
monk's person, she turned her eyes- to his
face, and found that her visitor was one of
the brotherhood whom she had not seen be
fore. And not only was his face unfamil
iar, it was utterly unlike the kindly but
rough countenances of her charitable pa
trons. And she could not but notice that,
although ionly one rush light illuminated her
room, and though the monk's cowl went far
to shade him even from that, yet a bright
light always seemed to be on his face, mak
ing his clear skin almost transparent. Her
curiosity must have been greatly stirred,
'had not her- prevailing passion of greed
made - her. more anxious to 'learn what he
brought than who he was. .
" It's a terrible night," quoth the monk,
at length. "Such tempest without only
gives point to the indoor comforts of those
who are wealthy, but it chills the very mar
row of the poor and destitute."
" Ah, indeed," sniffed the widow, with a
shiver. "if It was not for the charity of
good Christians, what would poor folks do
for comfort on 'such an evening as this?"
" It, was that very thought, my daughter,"
said the monk, with a sudden earnestness on
. I tis shining face, "that brought me forth
evon now through the .storm to' your cot
Ho.yen reward your 'cried the widow
"Heaven does reward the charitable!" re
plied the monk.. "-To no truth do the Scrip
- tures bear such constant and unbroken wit
ness, even as it is written: `He that bath
pity on the - poor lendeth to - the Lord', and
look, what he layeth out it shall he paid to
'W hat a bleS,sed thingit must be to be able
to do good!;' said the widow, piously wish
ing in her, heart that the holy man would
not delay to earn his recompense;
daughfer," said the monk, " that
blessing is not withheld from you. It is, to
ask your help for those in greater need than
yourself that I come to-night.", And forthr
. ..with the good brother began to tell how
two strangers had sought shelter at the mon
astery: Their house bed been struck by
lig,htningand.hurned with all it contained;
and they themselves, aged, poor and friend
less, were exposed to the fury - of the storm.
" ur house is a Poor one, continued the
- monk; t , the stringers' lodging room was al
ready fu11,,-and -we are quite without the
Means of making these poor soula comfort
able. You at least,have a sound, roof over
your head, -and if you can spare one or two
Wive fot the night they shall be •
to-morrovi, „when some_ of our gueits de
parV - ,
The widOw could hardlicOneeal her veie-
Won "and' disappointment., "Now t deist
—witticrin Cullen Vryant
heart, - holy, father!" cried she, " is there not 1
a rich body in theAllace, that you come for
charity to apoor widow like me, that 'WU in
a ease rather to borrow myself than to lend
to othersr -
"Can You lend us a spare blanket?" said
the monk. "These pour strangers JutVe
been out. in the storm, remember."
The widow stated. "What meddling
busybody told him that the Baronessi gave
me a new blanket'at Niche:Milts?" thought
she. But at last, very unwillingly, she went
to an inner room to fetch a blanket from her
" They shan't have the new one, that is
flat," muttered the widow; and she drew
out the old one and
to fold it up.—
But though • she had dwelt upon its thin
ness and insufficiency to the Baroness, she
was so powerfully affected at parting with
it, that all its good qualities - came strongly
io her mind.
" It's a very suitable size," said she to her
self, "and easy for my poor old arms to
shake or fold. With careful usage it would
last for years yet; but who knows how two
wandering bodies that have been tramping
milesihrough the storm will kick about in
their sleep? And who knows if they're de
cent folks at . all? Likely enough they're
two hedge birds that have imposed a pitiful
tale on the good fathers, and never slept un
der anything finer than a shock of straw in
their lives. i
The more the good woman -thought of
this the more she felt surer it was the case,
and the less willing she became to lend ; her
-blanket to " a couple of Cheating traitips."
A. sudden idea decided hers
"'Pen to one they bring a fever along
with them!" she cried; "and dear knows I
saw enough good bedding burnt after the
black fever, ten yet rs ago! It would 'be a
sin and a shame to urn a good blanket like
this." And repeati g "a sin - and a shame"
with great force, the • widow restoredt the
blanket to its pla e. 1
"The coverlets not worth intich," she
thought, " but thy good man bought it the
year after we were married, and if anything
happened to it I should never forgive my
self! The old shawl is good enough for
tramps:" . Saying which she took a ragged
old shawl from a peg and began to fold it
up; and even as she brushed and folded,
she began to grudge the faded rag. "It
saves my better one on a bad day," sighed
the widow, " but I suppose the father must
have something." S
And accordingly she took it, to the monk.
"It's not so good as it s hasibeen," said she,
" but there's warmth in it-yet, and it cost a
pretty penny when new."
" And is this all you can spark to the poor
houseless strangers?" asked theimenk.
" Ay, indeed, good father," s lid she, "and
that will cost me ninny a twin e of rhumat
ics. Folks at my age can't lie cold at night
" These poor strangers," said the monk,
" are as aged as yourself, and have lost ev
But as all he had said had no effect in
moving the widow's compasi3ion -lie depart
ed and knocked at the - door of her neigh
bor. Here he told the same tale, which met
with a very diffe.rent hearing. This•widow
was one of those liberal souls whose pos
sessions always make them feel uneasy un
less they-are being accepted, or used, or
borrowed by sonic one else; and she blessed
herself that, thanks to the Baroness, she
had a new blanket fit to lend to the king
himself, and only desired to know what else
she had with which she could serve the poor
'strangers and requite the charities of the
The monk confessed that all the slender
stock of household goods in-the monastery
was in use, and one after another he accept
ed the loan of almost everything the widow
had. As she gave them he put them out
through the door, saying thatslie had a mes
senger outside; and having promised that
everything should be duly restored on the
morrow, he departed, leaving the widow
with little else than the chair in which she
was to pass the night.
When the monk had gone the_storm raged
with greater fury than - before, and at last
one terrible flash of lightning struck the
widow's house, and, though UAW not hurt
the old woman, it set fire to the roof, and
both cottages were soon ablaze. Now, as
the terrified old
hobbled out into
the storm they met the`monk, who, crying
"come to the monastery!" seized an arm of
each and hurried them up the hill. To such
good purpose did, lie help them that they
seemed to fly, and arrived ri? the convent
gate they hardly knew how.
—Under a shed by the wall were the goods
and chattels of theliberal widow.
" Take back thine own, daughter," aid
the monk; "thy charity bath brought its
" But the strangers, good father?" said
the perplexed widow. /
" You are the strangers;" answered the
monk; " and what thy pityl.thought meet to
be spared for thesinfortunate, Heaven in thy
misfortune bath spared to thee." Then
turning to the other widow, lie drew the old
shawl from beneath hislrock and gave it to
her, saying, " I give you joy, dame, that
this lath escaped the flames. It is not so
good as it-leas been, but there is warmth in
it yet, and it cost a pretty penny when new."
Full of confusion, the illiberal widow
took back her shawl, murmuring "lackaday!
If I had but known it was ourselves the
good father meant!"
The monk gave a shrewd smile.
"Ay, ay, it would have been different, I
doubt not," said he; "but accept thelesson,
my daughter; and when next thou art called
upon to help the unfortunate, think that it
is thine own needs that would be served,
and it May be that thou shalt judge better
as to what thOu canst spare." '
As he spoke a flash of lightning lit up the
ground where the monk stood, making a
vast aureole about him in the darkness of
_night. In the. bright light. his counte
nancelippeared stern and awful in its beau
ty—and when the flash was past the monk
had vanished also.
Furthermore, when the widows .sought
shelter in the monastery, they found that
the brotherhood knew nothing of their vis
itor.—sla at Judy's llitgazine.i
She wits a girl in her fifteenth year, per
haps, yet the slight, fragile form and exceed
ing delicacy of skin made her look almost
like a little child.
It was a warm summer day, still she bad
waited, resting in the shadow of one of the
huge pillars which framed the entrance-way
to that quaint old cathedral; bending for
ward eagerly as each step sounded on the
pavement beyond, and:shaking back again
as it died away in the distance, with a look
of keen disappointment on' her young face.
And thus had she sat watching and waiting
—hour after hour riassing, away—till the af
ternoon bad- nearly waned, anti weary, she
was about to leave, when a sudden sound
arrested her. A man's step rang sharp and
clear oti the Marble near, andpassing in the
direction of the gallery stairs, slowly as
The girl's whole aspect changed; she bent
eagerly forward, her hands clasped tightly,
her lips'slfghtly parted. Mt is he! it is lie!"
she immured, the rich color flushing her
cheeks and dying away as swilt as it had
come. -Almost as she spoke she was on her
feet, groping with extended hands lathe di
rection the stranger had taken.
It was the grand master she was follow
l d: • ug, aneven as she scathed the stairs the
low, sweet notes of the organ floated to her
ear. She opened the - gallery door softly,
and seated herself on- one 'of the steps 'of
the choirs .
To Berthold Reimer the exquisite pleas
ure's:he derived from hearing the master as
he „eathe each -day to practice was the one
joy of het- life. She had learned to know
his footstep, and would wait idles each ca
thedral- service that she might. but touch
sum as he passedalong, and then go home
satisfied, with the sound of the mighty mu
sic she had heard clinging to her and help
ing her bear her sad yosing life more brave
lys-for Berthaidavas a poor child, and with
al she "Was blind.
The master had often noticed- the little
figure; and the soft, tender exPression Of
liie child's face ' and -would- have spoken,
but somehow when he had the opportunity
to do so she was always, gone, and 'so the
time passed, trWay . 'and the master: played
and she ;sat .and' listened, wondering and
hopiopthat the 'day might Come when she
could feethis hand dint ' hear the sound, of
Ms voice.. - '', ' ' ~
1 'perhaps the Master Was - not' so - attentive
to bia - dutios,er' Berthald might nap' MO
(dosed the gallery door so sofily tiat after
noon, but, he noticed the child when ,he ca
lmed, and when he had finished hi S piece
arose quietly, and before the girl c uld leave
the choir he was beside her.
You are not afraid of me, ut childl"
he asked, gently laying his ban On her
soft, golden curls.
no, sir," she answered- , eagerly, her
whole - frame 'trembling with excitement;,
" not afraid of you—" she pausedoancer
tain what to say, and lifted her large, sweet
eyes to his face.
" What is your name?" be asked again,
still keeping his hand upon her head.
" Berthold Reimer, the blind girl," she
answered quietly. A ltiok of intense pity
passed over his face, and he did not speak
for. a few moments; then he said, , " Well,
Berthatd;"would you like to hear-me play
again?" The look of joy which passed over
the girl's face and her eager "_Oh, yes, sir,"
was enough. He smiled, and taking her by
the hand, led her to the organ and placed
her beside hint. For a long, time be played,
then suddenly pausing he asked, "Can you
" A little," she answered. - —4, -
He played the prelude to an air sweet and
simple, anti which was well known. "Sing,
this,erthald t child," he said. At first the
blind girl's voice *as low and trembling,'
but as she sang she forgot before whom she
stood, and, all absorbed in the beauty of the
song and her love for it, she lost all trace of
fear, and as the last notes sounded her voice
rang out clear, strong, and beautiful.
" You will sing this." Ile played this
time an anthem which had often been sung
in the cathedral. Berthald sang it through,
her notes rising add falling with exceeding
tenderness, and tilling the grand old place
with their clear, flute-like rneloc:.,y.
" Well done; child," said , h e master,
" well done, indeed. You shall come to me
every day, and I will teach yot i t, and then
you shall sing here."
Beithald's sightless eyes filled with tears,
and feeling for the master's band, she bent
her head and kissed it reverently.
From that day she became a pupil of the
'great organist, and before many years had
passed away, the story of the wondrous
beauty of her voice had spread far and
near, and the cathedral was often tilled with
strangers to hear and see the blind
Offers of the most tempting nature were
made her, but she refused them all, and
clinging to her friend, was never happy save
by his side.
It was a rare sight to see her in the choir
of the old cathedral of a Sabbath day—in
the warmer season all dressed in white, With
her hair, almost golden, falling in a rich veil
about her; no trace of. color upon her pure
face; the light from the great oriel window
streaming in upon her and bathing her in
its softened rays. • All gazed upon her—
standing there, shut out from all that makes
life beautiful, singing her wondrous songs
—as a being allied to another world.
But Bertbald's rare life was not a long
one., Shb had always been a fragile girl,
and now, though everything was done which
loving hands • and hearts could do—for the
master brought her to his own home and
cared for her 'as his child—yet she seemed
to grow tired, would rest often, and though
her place in the choir she always filled, and
her voice rang out sweet and strong as ever,
she would place her hand on her side, and
her breath grew shorter and quicker. And
so nearly a year sped on, and as the pleasant
spring days once more came Berthald seem
ed to grow stronger, and her earnest wish
to sing in the great Easter festival which
was held in the cathedral, and in which she
took the most prominent part, was to be
gratified. There had been much labor and
hard work, for the music to be rendered was
entirely new and exceedingly difficult.
At last the time arrived for the concert;
everybody was ready, each performer in his
place. The vast building was thronged
with listeners, every available spot had been
secured. The grand master took his place
at the organ, and the first low notes of the
opening anthem broke upon the ear. Ber
timid stood, clad in - her uswd simple dress
of white, waiting fop her part. The organ
ceased, and the blind girl's magic voice was
beard upon the stillness; the choruses and
organ joined her, and when the music ceas
ed, thunders of applause followed. The
concert had nearly ended, and Berthald's
last piece was to be sung. She looked very
beautiful as she stood there, and when the
exquisite notes sounded from her parted
lips not a movement-was heard; it seemed
as if no ono breathed. -Then, as the last
faint utterance died away, the people broke
forth in a tumult of feeling; the stage was
literally covered with flowers, and her name
was rung forth again and again. She stood,
one hand resting on it music rack, the other
holding a simple flower, waiting for the ex
citement to die away; then she said, in her
own quiet way, "I thank you, dear friends,"
and taking the master's hand, turned to
leave the place, but scarcely had walked
two steps when she tottered, and would
have fallen, but the master caught her in his
arms and carried her fainting away. They
* took her home and watched her carefully,
and hoped that she might yet live, but it was
all in vain—no power on earth- could save
And the days sped on till the last one on
earth for her had come. ',lt was on the close
of a lefely Sabbath, just as, the sun was•
sinking behind the western hills, that Ber
thald Reimer's blind eyes were opened and
she saw the mighty glories of the other
world. She had spoken but little through
the afternoon, and now, as the evening drew
nigh,she moved her head gently, and, like)
a littehild with its mother, drew the hand!
of the fiend who had been so much to her
on earth under her cheek, and fell quietly
asleep. When the head grew heavy and
the cheek cold, the master. drew his hand
- Be y rthald Reimer, the wondrous blind girl,
The Confederate Seal.
A monograph, containing many interest
ing facts, has just been issued in_Washing
ton, written by one evidently postEd on Con
federate matters, giving an account of the
Grand Seal adopted—bk the late Southern
Confederacy. A. writer in Hai Month
ly, under date of February, 1869, under the
head of "Executive Department and Seals,"
furnishes an exceedingly clever account of
such matters, and in concluding states that
no impression was ever made from the
Grand Seal cut for the use of thin C6nfede
racy by " Her Majesty's Seal-makers," Lon
don. The foe -silage of the seal appears
on the title page of the monograph, and
contains a representation of an equestrian
statue of Washington (after Crafford's)sur
rounded by a wreath made of the principal
products of the Confederacy. Around the
margin tire the words, " Confederate States
of America, February 22, 1862," and the
following motto: " Dee Vindiee." The ar
ticle in Harper's sets forth that the seal was
received in Richmond only in time to be
useless. The Confederate writer, who're
plies, gives his history of the matter to the
effect that on the .30th of April, 1863, a res
olution passed:the Confederate Congress or
dering the engraving of a great seal. Un
der date of May 2e1863, Secretary Benja
min writes Mason, in London, directing that
a seal be obtained according to. the design
prescribed, stating that he wanted the work
well done, without regard to 'expense, as it
was a work it was hoped would "be required
for generations yet unborn." A second dis
'patch relative to - the seal is from Mr. Ma
son, in LonclO w dated February 18, 1864, in,
which he states it would still require from
-to two months to finish it. It was
being engraved on silver, at a cost, with a
press, of eighty guineas.
Mr. Wpm was the artisan by whom the
Work was done. On the 12th of April, 18.
64, Mr. Mason writes again,- and states that
it will be ready by ,the latter part of May.—
It was eventually sent to Richmond by . the
*hands of a Liententuit Chapman, as is indi
cated by a • letter of Mason under date of
July 6 1864, accompanied by duplicate ae
_count& made to Mr. Mason by Joseph S.
Wyon, Chief Engraver of "Her Majesty's
Seals," etc., the total amount beino• ‘,122
10s. Chapman sailed for Halifax. S Tti y 9th,
with orders to run no risk of its capture.
It appears that the great, seal was used in
Canada by - the Confederate Commissioners,
who were planning, raids. _Lieut. Braine
Ruing at St. Albans) held a commission
bearing this seal, as did some others of the,
St. Albans raiders. The "seal did finally
reach Richmond; but wits never used there;
I but impressions were taken - , _and the seal it-
NU wits Saved, and is now in the custody of
some friends of the; Confederate cause.—
The'scal weighs several - pounds. The ob
ject of taking impressions is for their sale,
in order to create a fund for-Southern wid
ows and orphans.
With those who work in tones as with
those who work in stone, or brass, Or pig
ments, there are all 'grades of excellence,
from manufacture up to art. Do not con-,
found the mechanical composer or maker
up with the creator or artist, whose music
is the exponent and beautiful revelation Of
his life. Believe, too, that, in music itself
there is something greater than aught which
it undertakes to . illustrate or adorn; that art
is greater than its subjectsor occasions; that
a true song, or symphony, has something
more to to than clothe a thought, orimitate
a given scene, or tell a story. When Rob
ert Franz, "sets to music" -a little poem of
Rehm or of Burns, he does, to be cure, first
of all make sure that he has caught the spi
rit and inttintion of the poem—nay, the very
soul and - essence of its form - and rhythm—
and then truly reproduces it in tones; but,
at the same time, he has created something
out of himself; out of the tone-world of
which he is a native, which is not found in
Burns . or Heine, which could have taken
form without their prompting, destined to
an equal inrmortality. Arta nobler mission
is to publish its own secret—togiveyou, not
storms, moonlight, battles, hymns, trage
dies, recollections, (for theseyou have in the
original, which is betterthan the copy,) but
to give you music, something which con
cerns you intimately, yet is not published in
any other way.
A great deal is said about imitations of
nature, or stories of human life, running
through music; and there is great joy among
the disciples when some such hint, by way
of explanation of his meaning in some
piece, tulinired We know kit why, can be
got from the great Master. Not content
with enjoying it as music, We ask to have it
repeated to us as thought, which is like ask
ing to have the conscious Condition of the
blessed in another world Made visible to
mortal senses here. To henr . music truly,
you diner the realm of music and feel as if
all the world was music, nothing else; you
forget , your ormer state; histories, persons,
scenes, thou hts, words; sic foreign here—
at least they are superus; it is not their
element. When you cote out of it you can
but say, likh Paul, "linow not whether I
was in the body or out tif the body."
Return to the matter-of-fact life of the
sensesomd ask the compoSer what he meant,
and either he will give no answer, silent as
the Sphynx, or one that will sadly disap
point you. ' Importhned for answer of some
fsort, he will tell you of any fly of circum
stance that chanced to light upon the paper
while he wrote, some stray thought hardly
heeded, " unconsidered trifles," any mo
mentary consciousness i of things without;
which checkered the pure sky of his rhap-,
sedy . atAhe piano. Ask the clear running
stream ft-a- , meaning; you will recognize the
chance reflections of objects flitting over it
—objects beautiful, fanciful, grotesque, o'r
low; but these are not the running stream.
So in art—you may see all things—only not
itself. , .
Imitativexnusie is sometimes wonderful,
but it is notlthe highest. Musid, though it
is at -times so universal and sublimely im
personal, is ,essentially subjeetive—or.per
haps, more strictly speaking, spiritual—and
mere musical Imitations of objects are a
prostitution of the art. They are not art,
any More than a fair photograph is art. 4
The traveler in Freiburg goes
,to hear the fa
mous organ and the fantasia =which under.
takes to represent a concert on a lake inter
rupted by a storm. 'Such things can hardly
entertain -the lover of true music t*ice.—
etqurnal of Music: . 7
Excitement in the Oil Regions.
A. correspondent writing to. 4 Boston pa
per.from Petroleum Center, Pti., says that
the recent great strikes in the oil regions
have caused intense excitement. At the oil
towns of Pleasantville, OiMay, Reno,'Pit
hole, Franklin, and elsew4re new wells are
being started daily which produce largely,
and the oil is of an excellent quality. Most
all these " strikes" have been made on ter
ritory which has been considered unproduc
tive by old operators. Not only have these
important strikes created consternation, but
the flowing, of the "dry holes" made by
disgusted prospectors in the clay of the great
oil fever of 18G4 and 1866 is a nine days
wonder. These " dry holes," which are lo
batedin all parts of the oil region, the larg
er proportion however being at Reno and
Franklin, are made productive by the use of
nitro-glycerine torpedoes, which being cast
into the openings produce sufficient concus
sion to open the interstices in which the pe
troleum is secreted.
A great number of these wells yield as
high as 200 barrels of crude - oil per day.—
Speculators from Philadelphia, New York,
Btston, the Western cities, and , other places
ar " prospecting," and there is every prob.
ability of, there being 'as much excitement
all through the oil regions as there was in
the pabniest days of the oil fever. The ho
tels are filled with excited crowds of oil
producers, brokers, proipectors, and specu
lators, and every train brings in more peo
ple interested—or anxious to he interested—
in the oil trade. As is not4generally known,
:nothing iu the agricultural or horticultural
line will grow in the oil regions, and the
'birds never go there. This is attrihutaillp,
to the fact that the ground and atmosphere
are so thoroughly impregnated with the
smell of petroleum that neither vegetable
matter can germinate nor the feathered spe
cie exist. There is nothing but a dark cloud.
overshadowing the whole region, and the
particles of black dirt which are continually
flying about penetrate everything.
The wives and daughters of the "oil pi
oneers and kings" never attire theme! -es
.in light clothes, but their apparel gener Ily
consists of somber shades. Many iVace . s
are always in ea Erebus-like state, wig ch is
' only hight fled by the aid of lamps. I The
streets are ligl ted with a natural gas sup
plied from the' wells, which comes from the
pipes in one sotitl, hissing flame which burns
constantly day and snight: ' The people have
a begrimed appearance, looking as though
'they had been besmeared . with " crude pc-
troleuni" and then dusted with black dirt.
But through the blackness will be seen spark
ling on the shirt bosom of an " oil prinde"
a x;10,000• or a $15,000 diamond. In this
country to be somebody one must be an oil
prince and sport immense diamonds. Edu
cation is literally nowhere—but to, be well
up in oil-trade parlance is to — be great. and
A Salt Lake paper givs the following ex
tract from one of Brigham Young's recent
sermons: " I wish my women to under
stand; that what I o inn going to say is for
themtas well as for others, and I want those
who are here to tell their sisters; yes, all
the Women in the cominnnity. f I am going
to give, you from this time to the 6th of Oc
tober next . for reflection, that you may de
termine whether you wish to stay with your
husbands or not, and then I am going to set
every woman at libtrty, and say to them,
`Now go your way." And my . tvivesAtave
got to do one of two 'things—either round
up their shoulders to endure, the afflictions
of this world, and live 'their religion—that
is, polygamy—or they nui9t, leave, for I will
not have them about me. I' wilt ,gO into
Heaven alone rather .than- . have scratching
andand fighting about me. .1 will set' all at lib
erty..What, first wife, too?' Yes, I lib
erate you all. I want to go somewhere or
'do something to get rid ott the whiners. I
do not want them to receive part of the
truth and spurn the rest out' of doors. Let
every man thus treat las/wives; keeping rai
-1 ment enough to cover kis body, and saying
to his wives, Take allil have and be set at
liberty; but if you stay 'with me you shall
Comply with the law of God in every re
spect, and that, too, without any murmur
ing or whining." Non,tuust fulfill the law
of God in every respect, and round up your
shoulders to walk up to the mark without
any grunting." ,
Rector (going Ids - rounds)—" An ttneot
monly fine pig, 31r.'Dilitis,'1 declare."
Contemplative Villager--" Alt,- yes; sir,
we was only alt 'of us as fit to die as -bit
sirl" • _
Some person vrho would not hesitate to
g pocket says that the drives at Long
Branch are filled with Jelms, and the hotel
- - -
WHOLE N 0.1,024.
USETUL AND SUGGESTIVE.
Something to Sell.
One Of the best and most successful farm.
ers we ever knew,- once told us that it was a
rule with: him to always have something to
sell, no matter what the time of year,4 In
the spring he always had seed time,
sort—samples of wheat, . oats, rye, barley,
corn—or potatoes, carrot seed, beet seed,
salt pork, hams . , corned beef, or fat • stock,
of spine sort. He, had found that it paid to
take!extra pains to have seed grains_ or veg
etables on band in the -spring; for sincelt
had become known that he always - had these
to sell, he found no difficulty in selling all
that he had at good prices—at prices that
paid him for all the extra trouble and care
in preparing and preserving themi
Another thing he said be bad found use
ful to hiM, and he did not understand why
farinemdid not practice it more: When he
bad a stock of anything to sell he announced
the fact in the local papers, just as the gro
cers and merchants do. He found it profit
able to purchase space in the paper by the
year, and advertise his products •,according -
to season and the stock on hand:- Then it
was a part of his creed to produce' the beat.
His seed was pure and Olean. His stock fat
and healthy. Histruit TOr sale was'alweya
perfect.' His butter was gilt-edged. His
hams we're sugar-cured,smoked just enough,
and peoPle were always glad to pay him
two or three cents more per pound than these -
found at the grocers would bring.
He laid , great stress upon the advantages
of home market for his products. His lo
cal reputation as a producer was of direct
value to him, and he labored to keep it first
class. His graili did not go in bulk to a
grain bttyer who mixed inferior grades. . It
was sold to the local miller,
ford to pay him more for it than the specu
lator, because he knew therewere no screen
ings in it, to depreciate, it value. Thus he
always had ready resources. When vie asked
if he did not find it more difficult to save_
his money when it came to him by dribbled,'
he replied, no. It was no more difficult for
him to save than for the retail grocer or
merchant. He deposited his money in the
bank, and only paid it out in the shape of a
check—except for personal expenses. While
he sold at retail, he bought, so far as practi
cable, at wholesale. Ho sold for cash or ex
changed direct for something be needed—
never trusted any man. He also bought for
cash, and al nays - had money on hand with
which he could buy to advantage.
Now this mode of dealing, we are aware, '
is 144 always practicable; for all farmers (to
not live in large towns nor in populous dis
tricts; but if the :farmer adopts a mixed
system of husbandry, he may always have
something to sell that will meet a local want. -
Something to sell is what the farmer labors
for. The best mode of selling it is an equally
important consideration; and our own expe
rience and observation_ prove that there is
no more profitable way, than to try to sup
ply all local demands first, and then if a
distant market must he sought for any sur
plus, try to put the surplus iirthe least bulky
shape possible. -
1- A Runaway Horse.
A writer tells how a runaway horse was
cured, as follow;' 1 ha,d a neighbor once, a
queer genius,who never lacked in resources,
and seldom got into anYdifficulty from which
be did not successfully extricate himself.—
One he had a beautiful young horse, as hand
some in limb and style as he was speedy
and strong. He was a perfect lirse-beauty,
but he would run away. !Nothing was left
untried to cure him of this dangerous habit.
All the throttle-bits and other deviceS had,
been tried without-success.
He consulted with horse breakers and fol
lowed their advice. But it was all to no
purpose—run away he would. Many ad
visedshim to sell ;tiler-horse to some stage or
horse car company to kill eff as usual. But
they would give no more than they paid for
old hacks - for their use. , Ile was pot hope
less of success,' and setting his .genius at
work he made h study . of setting,
eliyities. He observed - that thrranimal nev
er ran away at night, particularly if it was
quite dark, and concluded that he would not
run if he could not see where he was going.
Acting upon 'this hint he made a hood of
leather, and so attached it to the head-stall
that by pulling a cord the hood came down
1 and covered his eyes, completely obstruct
ing his sight.
Putting it on him he drove to a favorable
place and let him have his will. In a few
moments he was under full sail, when the
cord was pulled and the hood fell. Mr.
Heise could see nothing, began to slacken
of his own accord, and finally stopped stock
still. The hood was lifted and he began his
old prrks again, and again the blinders
coverea his eyes. He was guided' against a
cart stading ,in the road, which hurt him
some. In a little while he. could not be
'whippdd into a run, he was so afraid of the
hood, 'and was completely cured of his bad
Rules for Bathing.
These arc Dr. Hall's directions for indulg
ing in this limurious necessity. They' are
worth thinking about, at least:
1. Bathe quickly, wipe dry, and walk off
rapidly all within 10'ininuted.
w. lit is dangerous to bath when tired or
at bed time;" hence, it is tter to make a
rule to bathe before brew fast, when the i
system . has been rested by a night's sleep.
3. Before bathing, wash the face, hands
and head in cold water.
4. Do not bathe within tWo hours Of - 0- 1 7
ing a full meal; death has resulted from in
to this rule. . .. 1
3. Cold water baths are hurtful tinder
any circumstances to very young or, very
old people; to invalidS; to Consumptives; to
those subject to spitting blood. It is the
safest rule that a woman , should never take
a cold bath other than to rub the Whole sur
face imickly with a soft towel, dipped in
water pressed out; lay the towel smooth on
the hand, and rub quickly the whole body,
within ten minutes. ~
The general health of mankind would be
most benetitted by avoiding all cold' water
or sea bathing; and taking but one bath a
week, and that in a room not over 70 deg.,
on Saturday night, using warm water and
soap, and a common new scrubbing brush,
bristles_at least three quarters of an inch
long; wet the body all over with water;
then rub a piece of soap, over the brush,and
with It rub the body with a will, as far as
can be reached in every direction, r4pidly;
then rinse_otl and wipe dry with alcotton
towel at least a yard square; this leayes the .
skin more perfectly dry than -ft common lin•
en or crash towel; the whole operation
should be performed within ten Ininutes; -
the water should be at least 80 deg.; (this
kind of bathing certainly cleanses the skin,
stimulates the surfate, and leaves , the body ,
in a safe condition. Temperature for baths:,'
cold water, 50 deg., tepid bath, 70 deg.,
warm bath, 80 deg., hot bath, 110 deg., va.
per bath, 130 deg. -
an A Coughing Horse.
I have a very ' , valuable horse which is
troubled with a cough. Can you or any of
your correspondents_ give me a cure I'lle
seems perfectly healthy in every other way
—he has had a light cough for about two
monthS. J.. E., Medford, N. J. " Stone
henge" says this hind of cough may be oc- .
easmined by any disorder of the digestive
_organs and the way to Cure At is to remove
the irritating cause. If the stable Is too
hot, cooling it may do. It may be that the
corn (gram) has been overdone, In which .
case a gentle dose of physic, followed by a
diminished allowance of corn, and a bran
mash orice a week,, will be successful. 'lf
the stomach is muc disordered, green food
will be the best stimulus to a healthy condi
tion, or in its absence a few •waint cordial
balls may lie tried. The existence of worms
s hould to ascertained in doubtful cases, and
if they are present, the proper remedies
must b given for their removal.. Linseed
oil at 1 writs of turpentine, which arc both
excel ent remedies, are highly recommend
ed it chronic cougli. A •very successful
comb nation is— • - 1
'rate of Spiiita of Turpentine—,
3theitage of Ne A ri3,..
1 • Gam Arnmonlacum.
- Mix, and give half a pint as a &mob ev
ery night; the bottle must be well shaken
befoM pouring out.--L-Country Gentleman•.
• westernA2 paper says that a short; thick,
-striped, atar-spangled banner sore_ of "a bug
is beginning to look after the tomata,qo'p,