North Branch democrat. (Tunkhannock, Pa.) 1854-1867, January 11, 1865, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    IX ABtVST fclca*Mtß.,-"rrle<or.l
'' l c . -
Terms —1 copy 1 year, (in advance) 52.00.
toot pain within six months, 82.50 will be charged
NO paper will be DISCONTINUED, until all ar
rearages are paid; unless at the option of publisher.
10 lines ork, j I . I
less, make three /our] two three six ont
one square weeks weeks .mo* th mo th mo th year
F TfiO 1,23 2,28 2,87 3.00 5,0
2 do. 2,00 2,501 3,25 350 4,50 6,0
3 do. 3,00 375 4.75 5,50 7,00 9,0
* Column. 4,00 4.50 6.50 8,00 10,00 15,0
\ do. 6,00 950 10,00 12,00 17,00 25,0
i do. 8.00 7.00 14,00 18,00] 25,00 35,0
k .io. 10,00112,00! 17,00122,00} 28,00' 40,0
TOR'S NOTICES, of the usual length, 32,50
OBITUARIES,- exceeding ten lines, each ; RELI
OIOL'S and LITERARY NOTICES, not of genoral
interest, uu-e half" ttie .regular rotes.
lousiness Card* of one square, with paper, 85
■of all kinds neatly executed, and at prices to suit
the times.
WORK must be paid for, when ordered.
Business sotitfS.
Y Office on Tioga street, Tunkhannock fa
I Tnnkhonnoek, I'a. Office in Stark's Brick
Blick, Ttoga street.
\ V lice in Stark's Brick Bloek, Tioga St., 'funk
.neot-k, Pa.
1 Newtou Centre, Luzerne County Pa.
!!-{. .T. C 14K< ' KKII .
Would respectfully announce to tbe citirensof Wy
-ning, that he his located at Tunkhanuock where
he, will promptly attend to all calls in the line ot
his profession.
I*r Will t.<• found at home on .--aturdays of j
each week
£li Bufhlfr jDtuise.
HAUlllSlintfi, I'KNNA.
The uudt rign -d having lately par h.ised the
1 BUEHLKR HOUr-E " t <>p-rtv. ha., already com
iaenc.l mi-h ilfcrit:-u- a d impruvetnf-.uts will
render '.hi- oi l and popular H u- final, if rot supc
n r. '<> an ti •el in ii- f Harrisiiurg
A c.uiti:: j'. oof the pu lie p itron ige IS retpect
fully S-J i -iic I.
.dxV HOUSE /
tTiidi.vic. I, .5 \ OWING CO., PA.
j • ' .1- • • iv teen refitted tti;
j i E 'e:. attonti' i
- iveii.aoi-n of liio-e
-••.IT ind Pnprietor.
• : i 1861.
•RIGHT, Prop'r
. . .tie proprietorship of the above
ii I. die undersigned will spare no effort to
fend.: i the house ail agreeable place ot sojourn for
all who uiay favor it with their custom-
, Jane, 3rd, 1563
The MEANS HOTEL, i- one of the LARGEST
and BEST ARR ANGED Houses in the country—lt
is fitted up in the most modern and improved style,
and no pains are spared to make it a pleasant and
agreeable stopping-place for all,
v 3, n'2l, ly.
M OILMAN, has permanently located in Tunk
• hnnnock Borough, and respectfully tenders his
yrofessioaal services to the citizens of this place and
urrounding country. '
Office over Tuttou's Law Office, near the Pos
Dec. 11, 186/.
In order to faciliate the prompt ad
usun nt of Bouofy, arrears of pay, Pensions and
other CUims, due sosdiers and other persons from
of the United States. The under
yivcl has inll. arrangements with the abovs firm
hom-. expenn, e and close proximity to, and daily
n cieiursi w uh th -lepirtment ;as well as tbo ear
reknowledge, a -quired by them, of the decisions
ai quen ,y being m <l e , enables them to prosecute
;.. "ititfi .' °i C ly 'ban Atiornoys at a distance,
i T ■■ l ,:rson t eutitled to claims ofthe '
a'nnhsVii ' ' V 5 ' bem prop-rly attended
a.noboyliug on iqo eatrusrin, them to mv care
T ,7 , _ fo'Darw A Collins,
, TlkU W tk,Pa !
|loet's Corner,
Th gloomy horrors faw hare known.
That crush the suffering patriot's heart ;
Scenes that would more a haart of stone,
And cause a demon's tears to start.
But, ah ! the world feels not the smart!
Men seen forget, nay, e'en disown
The friends from whom at first they griered to
The rery walls around us here
That form this dungeon where we dwell,
As if through pity drop a tear,
Till moisture fills this lothesome cell ;
Yet of these woes no tongue will tell,
Which drown the hopes that else might cheer,
And make what should be life a gloomy hell.
i*ss. e'en these dismal prison walls
Oft echo back the evening prayer,
As if to soothe the heart that calls
To Him whose hand alone can spare ;
Yet, in the world of light and air,
No voice comes from its sumptuous halls,
To kindle hope, or cheer the heart's dispair.
E'en that dim ray of heavenly light,
That through the rusted grating shines,
But makes the heart's despair more bright,
Aud chills the soul pines,
Till, like a convict in tlPmines,
We learn to hate our very sight,
And love the dreary prison that confines.
The very chains that bind the feet.
Make music in this filthy cell ;
And their dull clankings seem to greet
The place where silcace else would dwell,
And though they cause these limbs to swell,
Tbe sound to us is sometimes sweet,
And breaks the silence like a Sabbath bell.
Yet wrecked and weary with these pains,
And breathing in this feted air,
And wrilhi ng in these galling chains,
Our spirits do net yet despair ;
But these great wrongs we proudly bear,
Nor envy him the tordid gains,
That to indulge his fiendish malice placed th em
Ah, yes, the tyrant's chains now bind,
And these poor bodies sink and die ;
Yet our unfettered spirits find
Some solace even where we lie ;
And in the realms beyond the sky,
The soul will revel unconfined,
And all the powers of earth and hell defy
Select §>torj,
[From the Sin Fiancisco Era-]
T have a mini to tell a little story. That
tis brief, may be seen at a glance ; that it
's true, I most emphatically avow.
About five years ago, or thereabouts, John
An-le."—or ' Pap Ams'ey '' as he was fatnil
>r!y called—was the owner of a handcart,
Mi l earned a living by conveying iniscella
<<>u- parcels fro-n one section of the city tc
another, an J receiving therefore the reason a
ble remuneration of fifty cents per load. To
designate the occipj'i min th prosiest lan
guage possible, he was a handcatt man. and
when not employed c uhl always be found
luring working hours at the corner of Mont
gomery and California streets. His hair and
mng beard were quite gray, and his limbs
'eebie ; and if he could not shove as heavv
a load through the deep sand or up the steep
grade above him as the stalwart Teuton on
the opposite corner, thereby losing many a
job and many a dollar, ail the light loads in
the neighborhood fell to his lot, and kind
hearced men net uofrequently traveled a
square or two out of their way to give an easy
job to "Pap Ainsly."
Four years ago last September, (I recol
ollect the month, for I had a note of four
thousand to pay, and was compelled to do
• <me pretty sharp financiering to meet it,)
i aving two or three dozen volumes to trans
fer to my lodgings, I gave "Pap Ainsley" the
task of transportation. Arriving at my
room just as he had deposited the last artn
.ul on the table, and observed that the old
man looked codsiderably fatigued after
climbing flights of stairs two or three
times, I invited him to take a glass of brandy
—a bottle of which I usually kept in my
room for medicinal and soporific purposes.—
Although grate ful for the invitation, he po
litely declined. I urged, but he was inflexi
ble. I was astonished.
"Do you never drink 7" said I.
"Very seldom," dropping into a chair, a
my request, aud wiping the perspiration'
from his forehead,
"Well, if you drink at all,"I insisted, "you
will not find as fair an excuse in the next
twelve months for indulging, for you appear
fatigued and scarcely able to stand."
"To be frank, said the old man, "I do not
drink now. I have not tasted intoxicating
liquor for fifteen years, since—"
"Since when 7" I inquired, thoughtlessly
observing his hesitation,
The old man told me. Sixteen years ago
he was a well to do farmer near Syracuse,
New York. Ho bad ooe child, a daughter.
While attending a boarding school in that
I city, then a girl of sixteen years of age, she
j formed an attachment for a young physician
Acquainting bar father with the circumatan
| Y H *•
es. he flatly reiused his consent to a union
with a man whom he had never seen, arid
removing her from school, despatched a note
to tie young gallant wRh the somewhat
po>nted information that his presence in the
neighborhood of the Ainsely farm would not
meet with favor. The reader of course sur
mises the result, for such a proceeding could
have but one resnlt. In less than a month
there was an elopement. The father loaded
bis double-barrelled shot gun, and swore
vengeance , but failing to find the fugitives,
he took to the bottle. His good wife implor
ed him not to give way to despair, but he
drank the deeper, and accused her of cncour-.
aeing the elopement. In three months the
wife died ; and at the expiration of a year
when the young prc.pla returned io Syracuse
from Connecticut, where they had remained
with the parents of the husband, they learn
ed that the old man had sold his farm, squan
dered the proceeds, and was almost desti
tute. Learning of their arriving, Ainsley
drank himself into a frenzy, and proceeded
to the hotel where they were stopping, at
tacked the husband, wounded him in the
arm by a pistol shot, and attempted the life
of his daughter, who happily escaped unin
jured through the interposition of persorrs
brought to the spot by the report of the
pistol. Ainsley was arrested, tried, and ac
quitted on the plea of insantity. The daugh
ter and her husband returned to Connecticut
since which time the father had not heard
from them. He was sent to a lunatic asy
lum, from which he was dismissed after re
maining six months. 1851 he came to
Calafornia. He had followed mining for two
years, but finding his strength unequal to
the pursuit, returned to Jhe city, purchased
a hand cart, and—the rest is known. "Since
then," continued the old man, bowing his
face iu his bands in ag >ny, "I have- not tasted
liquor, nor have I seen ray poor child."
I regretted thtit I had been so inquisitive,
and expresse d the sympathy I realty felt for
him. Alter that, I seldom passed the cor
ner without looking for "Pap Ainsley," and
never saw him but to think of the sad story
he had told me.
One chilly, drizzly day in the Docember
following, a gentleman having purchased a
small matble-top table at an auction room
opposite, proffered to the oi l man the job of
carrying it to his residence, on Stockton St
Not wishing to accompany the carrier he
had selected the lace probably giving the
vest assurance of careful delivery of the pur
Furnished with the number of the hou.-o
the old car; man. after a pretty trying strug
gle with the steep accent of California street
reached his destination, and deposited t.♦-
table in the hall. Lingering a moment, tin
lady did not surmi-e the reason, until he po
litely informed her that her husband ((on
such he supposed him to he) had probably
by accident omitted to settle the carriage.
"Very well, I will pay you," said the lady
stepping into an adjoining room. She re
turned, and staling that she had no snihil
change in the house, banded the man a twen
ty dollar piece.
He c uld not. make change. "Never mind,
1 will call to morrow," he said, turning to
"No, no!" replied the lad)', glancing pity
ing'y at his white locks and trembling liinh-,
"I will not put you to so much trouble," ami
she handed the. coin to Bridget, with iustruc
tions to see if she could get it changed at
one of the stores or markets in the neigh
"Step into the parlor until the girl returns,
the air is chilly, and you must he cold," con
tinued the lady. "Come," she said as he
looked at his atlire and hesitated ; "there i>
a fire in the grate, and no one there but the
"It is somewhat chilly," replied the old
man following her into the parlor, and taking
a seat near the fire.
"Perhaps I may find some silver in,the
house," said the lady as she left the room "for
I fear Bridget will not succeed in getting the
twenty dollar piece changed."
"Come—l love little children," and the
child who had been watching him with cu
riossity ran behind the large arm chair, and
hesitatingly approached. " What is your
name, ray uear ?" inquired the cart man.
"Maria," lisped the little one.
"Maria?" he repeated, while the great
tears gathered in bis eyes ; I once bad a little
girl named Maria, and you look very much
like she did."
"Did you?" inquired the child with seem
ing interest, ' and was her name Maria East
man, too ?"
"Merciful God I" exclaimed the old man
starling from his chair, and dropping into it
with hishead bowed upon his breast. "This
cannot be ! aud yet, why not !"
IK caught the child in hit arms with an
eagerness that frightened her, 3nd gazing into
her face until he found conviction there,
suddenly rose to leave the house. "I cannot
meet her without betraying myself, and I
dare not tell her that I am that drunken
father that one attempted to take her life,
and left her husband a cripple," he groaned
as he hurried towards thp door. The little
ones were bewildered. "You are not going,"
said tho mother, reappearing, and discover
ing tbe old man in tbe act of leaving the
He stopped and apparently turned his face
but seemed to lack the resolution to do aught
"lie said he had a little Maira once, that
looked just like rne, mothe r ," shouted the
child, her eyes sparkling with delight.
The knees of the old cartman trembled,
and he leaned against the door for support.—
The lady sprung toward him, took him by
the arm and attempted to conduct him to a
"No, no, !" he exclaimed, "not till you tll
tne I am forgiven."
"Forgiven—for what 7" replied the moth
er in alarm.
"Recognize in me your wretched father,and
I need not tell you," he faltered.
"My poor father !" she cried, throwing her
arms round his neck, "all is forgiven—all
forgot ton."
All was forgiven, and the husband, when
he returned late in the afternoon, was scarce
ly less rejoiced than his good wife at the dis
covery, Whether or not Biidget succeeded
in changing the double eagle. T never learned ;
but this I do know, it took the honest female
all of two months to unravel the knot into
which the domestic family had tied itself lur
ing her absence. "Pap Ainsley" still keeps
his cart, for money would not induce him to
part with it. I peeped into the back yard of
Dr. Eistman, one day last week, and discuv
ered the old man dragging the favorite vehicle
round the enclosure, with his four grandchil
dred piled promiscuously into it.
At Buffalo, recently a justice of the peace
was called to go to a German house tn the
city, and marry a couple. Putting 1n a clean
coliat, and slippiag a marriage certificate in
his pocket he started for the festive scene,-
Arriving at the house und> r the direction of
a blue-legged little boy, who pointed out the
place, he knocked and went in. In the mid
dle of the floor stood a stout German girl
sorry and plump, her blue eyes rolling our
tears as big as butter pats.
"What's th matter ?" said the sympathet
ic justice.
"Matter 7" said the gtrl, "Jat Got Lib
went off ar.d wouldn't uiarry me. A;u"t it
matter enough 7"
The justice said he supposed it was, and
intimated that be had curne to many sonn
one, and requested the old lady to bi ng o<
the lambs to tho sacrifice. The old ird
said :
"Dare vos no lambs. Gotleibish run'd <IT
and v ill not marry mine Ivatrina."
"Well," said tho justice. "Gntleib isn't tilt
only man there is. Send for some other man
t • tnarry her."
At this Katrina's face brightened up, and
she ejaculated—
" Yah—dat i-h good—send tint Hans."
Hans was sent for, but unfortunately could
not come. When her messenger returned.
Katruvi determined not, to give it up, said—
"Sen init Shoseph,"
Shoseph was sent for but he couldn't be
Katrina's heart fell at this news, and tin
justice was growing impatient, dust then
Ka'rina lookel out of the window, and saw .1
short and thick young Gernxiu going by,
when she rushed to tlie door, and hallooed—
"Fr <z ! Fritz !"
Fritz shortly made his appearance at tbe
door, when Katrina's mother said :
"Fritz, you lofs my Ivatrina ?"
Fritz allowed lie did, more as soutkrout.
"Then stand up here !" thundered the
And before Frifz could reaLze his position.
he was man and wife, and Katrina's arm
were around his neck, and her lips pr-ssed to
his, she crying between the calisthenics—
"Mein husband—Mein Fritz !"
Our duty as a direct historian compels us
to say that Fritz hugged back as well as he
knew how.
Thejust'ee, with his head erect, stepped
smilingly out, leaving the lovers to themselv
es, and walked away meditatively, a holy
calm stealing over his massive proportions,
the consciousness of having done hi 3 duty
gleaming in his eye, and honor, honesty and
rectitude in his footsteps.
mine of three cent pieces was dis
covered in Lockport, New York, the other
day, on the death of an eccentric individual,
named Wm. Colley, in the Lower Village.—
He lived slone, kept a grocery, and willed hi
property, vavlued at §IB,OOO to his relatives
in England. lie kept his specie in an old boil
er buried in the cellar. Among tlie depo-its
in this private vault were fifty thousand three
cent pieces.
— -
So you are going to keep house, in
the spring 7" said an elderly maiden to a
blushing hiide.
"Yes," was the reply.
"Qoiug to have a girl, I suppose."
The new made wife colored, and quietly
replied that she "really didn't know whether
it would be a girl or a boy."
Ancieut maiden fainted.
C3T The name Democrat was first applied
to the leaders ot that party which at an early
period stood up for the rights of the people,
as a term of reproach.
■ 1 k-i
Edwin C. Chase, a man about forty four
years of age, married an English woman sev
eral years ago, in Needhuui, Masg., where
they lived for a time m moderate circuui
tances. Removing to Pennsylvania, he was
one of the fortunate seekers after oil, and
amassed quite a fortune, —perhaps seventy
or eighty thousand dollars.
Last July, Mrs. Chase, who is described
as a lair looking woman, wearing curls, went
to Europe to visit her friends there, taking a
considerable sum of money with her.
During her absence, it appeals, her hus
band managed to procure a divorce thro' the
Indiana courts, for the reason, as he says,
that she was a vixim, and he could not live
with her; and that she went to England
against his wishes. About two weeks ago,
Mis. Chase returned from her visit, and pro
cceded to Meedhara, Mass , her former home,
where she learned that her husband was
writiug soft letters aud making agreeable
visits to a young lady "scarce eighteen," who
lived in Fnz Williams, New Hampshire.—
This was a stunner, because, as she says,
Mr. (Thase had written her frequently, during
her absence, each time giving the flow of his
ink a remarkably affectionate turn. She at
once started to investigate the matter, and
was, a day or to after, iu Keene, New Hamp
shire, bcuud lor Fitz Williams.
"it so happened," as the novelists say,
that at the Eagle Hotel, in Keene, where
she stopped, she was surprised, the morning
afier her arrival, to learn that husband
was in the same hotel, and there too, on his
bridal trip, having bet i married on the da)
boEre to tho fair maiden aforesaid. She
kept her own counsel, and went to procure
m 40, which she did in the shape of two law- j
yers who speedily c;r e to Iveene from Bos- j
t >n, brn g'uig a couple of physicians connect 1
ed with the Insane Asylum at South Boston.
C onsultation was had, whiph resulted in
Mrs. Chase's going to the room of her bus
hand that was, aud pulling him out of bed
much to the surprise of Mrs. Chase 21
Then the lawyers and doctors 'were brought
in and there was much contusion. A court
ot sine kind was speedily convened, if it wa
not already in session, and in a quiet way
Mr. Ciiase was brought before it in the char
acter of a:i insane man. His wife swore lie
whs insane ; the doctors knew he was ; and.
f-r so being, lie was taken to the S; uth Los
t 'Ti Retreat of which he remains an inmate.
That he has never manifested any signs o!
• nsantity ; has always been a good business
man. arid that he Lad over forty thousand
d dhirs in Keene with friends claim
to know.
. The inhabitants of Keene are very much
exc ted over tbo matter; they do not uuder
-'and it, and hence gossip is rife. The poor
girl fr<mi Fiiz Williams has been sent home
to ponder. Mrs. Chase is still "at large,"
ei j • ing toe punishment she has inflicted.—
Hartford Cuuraut, December 15th.
GORMANDIZERS —A man has just died in
Paris ol insatiate hunger. lie could not cat
enough. IBs earnings being altogether in
sufficient to satisfy bis enormous appetite,
though he ate scarcely anything but bread
his fell<>wworkmen u-ed to contribute to
wards his support ; but wearied with thus
burdening hi- friends, and worn out by hi-
-ufferings, he at last hung himself. The an
nals of medicine rco rd many instances of
ibis disease, both iu ancient and modern
times, but the most remarkable case, of late
years, was that of Anne Demise, who died in
Pans, only a few years since, - She used to
eat fr: in twenty-four to thirty pounds of
bread a day. When 0:1 her death bed and
unable to take food, she begged her sister to
come and eat near her., and her last words
were : "Since it pleases God that I shall eat
no more, let me at least have the pleasure
of seeing you eat."
A humorous old man fell in with
an ignorant and rather impertinent young
minister, who proceeded to inform the gen
tleman in very positive terms thai he could
never reach heaven unless he was b rn again,
"And have you been born again,"
-aid his companion musingly. "Yes, I trust
I Pave." "Well," sail the old gentleman,
eyeing him attentively, "I don't think it
would hurt )*ou to be born once more,"
PRECOCIOUS. —There is a live Yankee ont
west, who invented a machine, that picks
ihe bones out. of fi-h, an 1 throws the meat
into the months of those who feel inclined to
eat fish—niackarcl in particular. The said
loquacious scion of yankeedom ha also
:ivht ducks to swim in hot water, and with
such success, that thny arc s-id to lay boiled
e2gs. Shades of Fancuil Hall, where art
thou not ?
lie CnosED TO BE AN OYSTER. — An Irish
man, who found on the street a bih of fair at
a recent dinner at the Girat'd House dibcov-
Mpd therein th information of oysters cnok
euTn "champaigne," as one of the dishes
served. "Bedad 7" said Pat drawing bis
sleeve across his thirsty mouth," <I J wish I
was an oyster !"
|- rarT he water that has no taste la our
; ©st ; tho air tkat has no odor is fliesrfiedl ;
i and cf all the modifications of manner, the
most geccrully simplicyity.
- ...
How \fpcii,—"lf a man selU his watch
for SSO ; buys it back for S4O ; then sells it
for 845, how much does be make by the
tjausaction ?" It looks as if he made 815
but ho didn't. Boy can you tell how much 1
dandy smoking a cigar, entered e
a menagerie, the proprietor requested him to
take the weed from his mouth, lest he should
teach the other monkeys bad habits."
ladies think engagements are
like pie crust, made to be broken. We ade
mire the ladies choice of Friday.
Jfcy One of the prjvost guard at City
Point thought it rather odd a few days ago
to see a private soldier wauderingjabout
with a field glass. The man was arrested,
and under his federal uniform was found a
full suit of rebel gray. lie was a spy, in
specting our fortifications coolly with his
glass, and proposing at a convenient oppor
tunity to elude our pickets, throw off his
disguise and make his way into the rebel
fry Take a common poker at a dull red
heat, and move it slowly over old putty, say
at the rate of two feet per minute, and you
can cut it off with a pocket knife.
cotemporary, noticirg the ap
pointment of a post master, says :
If he attends to the mails as well as he
does to the femiles, he will make a very at
tentive and efficient officer.
LOVE in a woman's heart is like ft
fountain in a woodland dell, covered with
mosses and fernleaves. No ray of sunshine
reaches it, and no breath of summer air stirs
its waters. The idle wanderer may roam
around it, may even pluck the blue forget
mc nots upon its brink, without discovering
it. He who can gontjy untwine the clinging
vines, and push aside the drooping leaves, un
til he gazes into the pure depths, will see
reflected upon the bosom of the trembling
waters not only the deep blue heavens and
the gulden stars, but nearer to him will look
up from those daik ling depths his own Itn
"g<" T'uirthld.
LADIES VS. GENTLEMAN, —Three things a
lady cannot do: s
1 Sh catiuul pass a millinery shop with
out stepping. ~
2 She cannot see a piece of lace Without
asking the price.
3. Site cannot eec a baby without kissing
A lady of cur acquaintance turns the table
on the gentlemen as follows :
Three things a gentleman cannot do i
1. Ilacaunol go through the bouse and
shut the door after him.
2. He cannot have a shirt made to sail
him. , . . j T
3. He can never be satisfied with the la
dies'fashions, .. „
AN "INDIAN" and a white man were pass
ing along Broadway, New York, when the
former espied a window full of wigs, and,
pointing to the owner, who was standing in
the doorway, said : "Hgh—him great ""Q
Big brave—take many scalps
W > li •
MOTHER WIT.— A stingy husband threw
off tho blame of the lawlessness of hischit
dren in company by saying his wife always
gives them their own way.
"Poor things," was the prompt reply. It's
all I have to giTe them."
C2C" A Philadelphia merchant sent a ear
go of floods to Constantinople. After super
cargo had seen the bales and boxes safely
landed he inquired where it should be stor
ed." , . ■ • q
"Leave them here, it won't rain to night,**
was the reply . :
"But I dare not leave them exposed. SOftM
of the goods my be stolen," said the snper*
cargo. , j >
The Mehoraedan meichant laughed S he
replied : j
"Don't be alarmed, my friend, there is ftOt
a Christian within a hundred miles of as."
A foppish fellow advised a friend
not to marry a poor girl, as he wonld find
matrimony with poverty "up hill wort^"
"Good," said his friend ; "I would rather (O
up hill than down hill any time."
I wo centuries ago not one tn a hun
dred wore stockings. Fifty years ago net
one boy in a thousand was allowed to ran a|
large at night. Fifty years ago not one fir
in a thousand made a waiting maid of her
mother. Wonderful improvement, in this
wonderful ago. A ~
— •
If you *ish to appear agreeable hi
society, says Talleyrand, you must ooaseot to
bj taught many thing which yost knows)* t
.r d J\ . ... fui eU,mi\
-1 ~ ®
V r OL. 4 NO. 22