North Branch democrat. (Tunkhannock, Pa.) 1854-1867, April 11, 1866, Image 1
%ti ikmtk ikmncrrtl NEW SERIES, A w#ckly Democratic SUPER, devoted to Poll tics, Sews, the Arts cly V jjjP. and Rc'ienees Ac. Pub- 3k- ft.". jGSb 'A label every Wednes- pay, at Tunkbannock Wywaiing County,Pa U—F BY HARVEY SICKLERa Terms —1 copy 1 year, (in advance) J2.00 ■et paid within six uienths, 5'2.50 will be charged '*• paper will be DISCONTINUED, until alt ar rearages arc paid; unless at the option of publisher, j ADVEHTISIKT Gr. II lines orj . 1 1 f less, make threeTfour i two dhree i six one •ne square ireeA-sjireeAs j;uo'i/i mo'lit mo lit. year 1 fituara TOO 1,25 2,25{ 2,87 J 3,00' 5,C0 0 j. eOO 2.50; 3,25! 3.50® 4 50 ; 6,00 t do.' sj)o| 3 75J 4,75j 5 5(0 7,00 9,00 t Column. 4.00; 4 50; b,o0; B.ooj 10.0b lo.LU | d. 6.00J 6.50 10,00|12.00' l;-O 20,00 1 4., g ooj i.UI 14,0u< IS,OO 0,00 Jo,oo ; I do! loloot I 2 A 22,00; 28,00 10,00 ; "BXECU'FOKS, ADMIXIS'fR AXUha aui Al 11-| TOR'S NOTICES, of the usual length, •BITU \RIES -exceeding ten lin s, each ; RELI OIOUSanJ LITERARY NOTICES, not of genera interest, one half tne regular rules. Business Cavils of one square, with paper, S5- JOB WORK •Pall kinds neatly executed, and at prices to suit he times. , All TRANSIENT ADVERTISEMENTS anl JOB Jlttsinrss fjtolirs. HT COOPER, PHYSICIAN A SURGEON , Newton Centre. Luzerne County ia. GEO. S. TUTTON, ATTORNEY AT LAW , Tunkhonnock, l'a. Office* n Stark s Lrtck . eek, Ttoge stieei. _ _ J WM. M. PI ATT, ATTORNEY AT LAW 0 | fice iq Stark's Drick Llock Tioga t., annock, Pa. "C|f UUflllfU JDoilsf, HABRISRIJB Of I'ENNA. The undersigned having lately pur. based the S'BI'EHLER HOUSE" property, has already coin nen -ed such alterations and improvements as iv.ll render this old aud popular House fqual. if cot supe rior t anv Hotel in the City ot Harris u,g- A centinuance of the public patronage is refpeet f.lly solicited. ogo . j. BOLTON* WALL'S HOTEL, LATE AMERICAN HOUSE, TUNKHAN NOCK, IVYOJHNt, t >., PA. TUIS establishment has recently been .fitfed i.i. furnished in the latest style Lna atttnAi, u m jl given to the comfort and com ei.iei.ee of tiio •k netronize the House. ™ f. B. WALL, Owner an 1 Proprietor . Juakhannock, September 11, 1361- NORTH bransh HOTEL, JIESHOPPEN, WYOMING COl X id. PA Win. 11. CUHTKICKT, Pn p'r HAVING resumed the proprietorship if Hotel the undersigned will i>are no cuert to feeder the h.usc a agreeable place ol sojourn for -J F " U TSKTUWMT. lut, 3rd, 1863 _ • T V<. Xc - 14 IX -KI A • - PHYSICIAN *i SURGEON, Weald respectfully announce to the c•tucnsofM v* Miug that he has located at Tunkhannock here he will promptly atteui to all calls in the line of I.uod b0... .n 0' •eek week §||BlS VOWANDA, TA. D- B- BARTLET, T P BRAISABD HOUSE, KLMIFA, N. Y. PROPRIETOR. the MEANS HOTEL, i* one of the LARGEST •ad BEST ARRANGED Houses iu the country it y fated uo iu the most modern and unproved style, £ad ao pains are spared to make it a pleasant an., agreeable stopping-place for all, v 3, n21,1y eLARKE.XEEN EY,& CO., VAMUfACTIKERS AND DEALERS 131 LADIES', MISSES' & GENTS' ASP JOBBKits IN ■ATS, CAPS, FURS, STRAW GOODS, PARANOICS AND U M BR EM,AS. BUFFALO AND FANCY ROBES, OP LKONAITB BTRKET, BSW ulf •. W.CLARK, J A. KCKNET, > e. LKPEIEY- 3 M. GILMAN, DENTIST. ; M OILMAN, has permanently located in Tunk • hanncck Borough, and respectfully tendcrhi paofhnional services to the citiiens of this placeand awrreunding country. ALL WORK WARRANTED, TO GIVE SATIT IION. •■ee ever Tutteg's Law OS ce near the Post <Mbh A CHECK FOR A CARPET. <% An<l Low about the new carpet ?" Pretty little Mrs. Lai>p spoke coaxingly, with her hands clasped 011 her husband's arm. lie looked down at her a moment, before he answered. She had been his wife for five years, but her face was as sun ny and as girlish as when he first wooed her. Her blue eyes had scarcely shed a tear in those years, except the lazy, luxur ious tears such happy little scnls weep over the ideal woes of storv-book hetoines. Her monthly rose in the French window was not pinker than her cheeks—her scar let geranium was not brighter or redder than her lips—and the pet canary chirping above the blossoms was not gayer or mer rier than the bird-like woman who waited for John Lane's answer. lie smiled as he looked at her. and brushed back her soft brown hair with an unconscious tender ness. "Yes. about the carpet, Annie. If I thought we needed it, I would get it of cour>e. But we use the drawing-room so little. The carpet that is ou it uow is al most as bright as it the day wg chose it, and vou know how prettv we thought it then." The girlish voung wife pouted her dainty "Well, John, bul it s been down five vears, and it's only so nice because I've taken such nice care of it. If I'd been careless and let it gel spoiled, you'd have bought Me another without grumbling,you know you wosdd. It's too had. it I've got to see things round forever, just because I'm careful o? them Don't you get tired of seeing, the same things always, J dill ?'" "Not easily; so long a-, thov are the same fr di and bright as ever. lam not tired of you yet." She laughed, and lier pink cheeks flush ed a little. if "But I'm not a carpet. Ours is only a Brussels, you know, and 1 did so want a Wdton, like Mrs Mofne's ?" -So Mrs. Mayue is the serpent in our Eden? Well. Annie, give me till night ta think about it," and he bent toward her fol io's good-lye. After lie ha i gone, she went into the drawing-room and took a survey of her possess oils. 1 iie carpet was that soft,many shaded, ino-s like-green, on which every— tlfng looks so well. Hhe confessed to her self, that, it had a more refined air than Mrs. 'Maine's lare figured Wilton, which held your gaze, like the eye of the ancient mariner, from tin? iiiomwot you entered the room. Hut, then, she thought, she needn't huv a great, ga"dy thing : and a Wilton was really sn'much more in keeping with her rosewood and hrocatelle. lhcn .die began dusting some of her books and or naments. While she stood there she Uearu the bell nn<*. and a short l>arloy } the do..,—a ch Id's roice, apparently ak.ng for food, and the cook's answer that today there was nothing to spare. A voun", sad yoiee, a sort of uncomplaining hopelessness struck her, and she stepped down stairs just as Bridget was about to shut the door. ''Come baek a moment, little girl," she said in those gentle tones that John Lane liked so well to hear. The child turned, an eager light coming into h( r face for a moment,and then going out. Mrs. Lane was acting on impulse, - She always did : it was a good thing,there fore.that most of her impulses were sweet, and gentle, and true. . "Are you hungry ?'' she asked pitying ly, "It don't matter so .much about me, ma'am. I could hear to be hungry, but T don't know what to do for my mother. I have tried to get a place to work, but no one will take me. They say a child ten years old is more p'ague than profit. Moth er had to work so hard to keep us, and now she's been sick awhile, and she can't work, and we've eaten up everything. So I came out to see if anybody would give me something for mother, and I've asked at every house in the street, and every where they said .just the same, they had nothing to-day." " Where do yon lire, —is it'far ?" Mrs. Lane asked. "Only a few steps, ma'am—three streets off" " Well, then, I'll go home with yon. and see your mother. Come into the house, while I put on my bonnet, and Bridget shall rrive vou some bread and butter and cold meat." Mrs. Lane's swee't young face was full of pity, as she hnrriedly packed a basket with bread and tea and sugar, and a glass of jelly for the sick mother. Then she ran up stairs and tied on her pretty summer hat, and down again while the hungry girl was just, nni-nin<? her breakfast. "Come little girl," she said, "what is your name ?' "Ellen Stantcn. ma'am, but my father ahvavs called me Nelly, and so does my mother." "And is vour father dead ?" "Oh, ves ! that's the way our trouble began. Father died, and mother wasn't used to work so hard to keep baby and me.' ' Mrs. Lane asked no m.iro questions just then. She was thinking more seriously than she had ever thought in Ivor life,remember ing bow she had been borne to case and luxury, shielded all her davg from caro bpw bcr deepest discontent bad beeu when "TO SPEAK IIIS THOUGHTS IS EVERY FREEMAN'S RIGHT. "—Thomas Jefferson. TUNKHANNOCK, PA., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 11, 1866. some other person's carpet was handsomer, or their India shawl had a deeper border. And now she was going where hunger and sorrow were tenants. Ilad shebeen living all this time for herself? She questioned with a sudden pang of terror and self-re proach, whether ever in her life she had done one really unselfish act whether, if the great harvest day were come,she would have one sheaf to show to the Master. She had given of her abundance now and then, of course, when charitable subscriptions had bet n presented to her ; but she had thought it a bore and a burden, not a privilege. Of her own accord, what good had she ever done what man, woman, or child was there to rise up and call her blessed ? "Here we are, ma'am said the child, breaking the silence. It was a two story wooden house, before which they stopped. They went up stairs, and the little girl opened a door. "Mother," she said, "a lady has come home with me to see you—a kind lady, who has given me my breakfast, and brought you yours." Mrs. Lme stood a moment on tlie thres hold of the room, and took in such a pic ture as iu her young, happy life she had never seen before. The apartment was almost hare of furniture —no carpet was on the floor —there was only the bed,three chairs and a table But everything was at neat as hands could make it; and against the wall, at the foot of the bed, hung a framed photograph —the portrait of a man with kin<J honest eyes, and the features of which the child Ellen's were almost a copy. " I have come," Mrs. Lane said, with the sweet grace which had made her a welcome guest in far different scenes, "to see if I could arrange something for your comfort, but first of all, yon must have some toast and tea," and giving her little guide some money, she sent her out to pro cure fuel, an 1 sat down herself in the mean time, beside the bed where the sick woman lay, with her baby asleep upon her arm. That wan, pale fate upon the pillows was not beautiful—Annie Lane could not be sentimental or romantic about this woman she could by no means idolize her into a heroine. Yet there was something good and true in her expression, ami wheu she turned to place the baby mote comfortably, a light and glow ot another love illumined her features till they were better than pret ty. Mrs. Lane was not long in learning her history. ' She had been u-ed all her days to selt dependence. Before she was married she Lad worked on a sewing machine in a shop and she understood that business thorough ly. But when James Stanton married her she had given it up. He was a good mechanic, a carpenter, and his wages kept them comfortably. They had not laid up much, however, for during the eleven years of their marriage three children, be sides the two she had left now, had come an j g Qne —p o qr. feeble little things that cost a great deal for doctors and medicine. Then, just before the last baby came, a scaffolding had given way where her hus band wns~at work, he had fallen from the fourth story of a house, and been brought home to her dead. She sold almost all her furniture, and got along by that means until she was able to be about, and then she bad left baby with Ellen, and gone out to days' work of washing and cleaning. It was labor for which she was not strong enough, but it had been all the occupation she could get, and after a while she had taken a severe cold, and had grown so ill that she conld not go out at all. They had eaten up eveiytliing they had; and this morning for the first time, she had sent Ellen out te try and get something some where, to keep them alive till she could work again. " And it must have been God, ma'am, that sent her to you," she con cluded. Mrs. Lane, helpless, pretty little thing, scarcely knew what to say. Her heart beat witli tumultuous throbs of pity —her eyes were full of tears; in all her sunny life she had never been brought in contact with actual gaunt, miser}- and destitution. At last a thought occurred to her and 6he uttered it eagerly : 4 If yo'i only had a sewing machine now, you could take work home wheu you get better, couldn't yoO, and support yourself and children nicely ?" The woman sighed—a deep unconscious sigh of hopeless longing. " Y r es, ma'am, I could ; but you know that is an impossible if, I never can get a machine. I'll be only too thaukful it 1 can get well enough to go out again by the dav. If I can't I don't kuow what will be come of the children." " But God knows," whispered Mrs. Lane, softly. "He pities us you know, as a father pities his children." Then came Ellen with coal and kind lings, and the subject was not alluded to again. When their five o'clock dinner was over, that afternoon, John Lane went gaily into the sitting room with his wife, lie had a pleasant surprise lor her, and he laid it in her lap, in the shape ot a check lor two hundred dollars. "There, humming-bird," he said lightly, "that's for your carpet. Business has pros pered this year, and what is it good for but to make home bright, and wife hap py ?" She turned her face and touched her hps silently to the kind hands resting on her shoulder. Perhaps John was disappoint ed that she expressed her pleasure so qui etlv. He had anticipated her gay laugh ,of merry exultation, and her delighted chat about colors and patterns. Hef new mood surprised him. lie sat down beside her gravely, and waited for her to speak. She told him, then, the story of her day, leaving out nothing. He could see how deeply she had been moved, by the color which came and went on her cheeks, the tears which gathered unheeded in her eyes. When she was all through, she said hesitatingly— "John, we are very happy, aren't we ?" "Y r es, dear." "And we owe something, don't we, to those who are less so? Think, John, if I had lost you as she has lost her husband ! And if I had only not lost you, but had, afterwards no way to live !" Site paused, as if for some encourage ment, but she received none. John Lane was beginning to get a glimpse of a new pjiase in his little wife's character, and he meant that she should bring out her owrt ideas unaided She went on, timidly enough, but very earnestly : "A paitoftwo hundred dollars, John would buy that woman the necessaries which would make her comfortable, and she would soon be well again, for her dis ease is only the result of overwork and exposure. The rest of it would buy her a sewing machine, and she could get along nicely with that. She wouldn't lieed any more help." Still Mr. Lane was silent, and she drew little nearer to liirn, and began smoothing his big fingers with her own little ones. "I know, John, dear," bhe said, coaxing ly, "that two hundred dollars would he too much to ask you for, in most cases, for any one charity ; but I have so set ra\ heart on really and substantially helping this poor beieft woman. Our drawing room carpet really looks veay nicely—you know you thought it would do this morn ing. A r.d if just this once. I might have the two hundred dollars to do this great deed with, and keep the old carpet down it would make me so happy. Just think, John, that poor widow and those little children would say your name every day in theii prayers, and they would be made comfortable for life. May I, John ?" John Lane bent down and kissed the eager, t.nder face. I'm afraid his eyes were to) dim just then to see all its bright ness. "Are you sure, dear," he asked gently, "that you would be satisfied with the old crapet?" "Quite sure, John. It shall last as long as the Wilton would. Oh, John, I never did any good in my life. Let mo do this little now!" "Annie you shall.' The great, manly heart was too full, just then, for many words; but by the firm clasp which held her so tenderly, Annie Lane knew that her husband was not dis pleased She carried out all her plans. By Au gu>t, Mrs. Stanton was well again, and the sewing machine stood at tlu window of her comfortably furnished room. To her the face of Annie Lane seems like the face of an angel. God's messenger she has indeed been to she widow and fatherless, I think there is one womau whose heart will never again be moved to envy by Wilton carpets, or wide bordered shawls, since she has tasted the luxury of doing good. John Lane loved her well when she was his gay, laughing child-wife ; but he loves her now with a holier, deeper tenderness, that reached —through time, and takes hold on eternity. ART OF SWIMMING. — Men are drowned by raising above water, the un buoyed weight of which depresses the head. Other animals have neither motion nor ability to act in a similar manner, and therefore swim naturally. When a man falls into deep water he will rise to the surface, and will continue there if he does not elevate his hands. If lie moves his hands under water in any way he pleases, hi* head will rise sp high as to allow him Yree liberty to breathe, and if he will use his legs as in the act of walking (or rather walking up stairs) his shoulders will rise above the water, so that he may use less exertion with his hands or apply them to some other purpose. These plain direc tions may be found highly advantageous in preserving life. THE PRETTIEST GIRL. — At a fancy ball at the Tuillerics lately therejwas a quadrille of all nations. The prettiest girl in Paris was chosen to represent France. It was the charming Miss Beckwith, an Ameri can ! She wore a white satin dress with a tri color sash. "Who's there ?" screamed old Squire B roused from hit first nap one bitter cold midnight. "W ho's there ?" u Jelloa, Squire!" was the reply. "We want to get married." "You're ONE. And now" be oft' with you," said the Squire, with emphasis. Snooks says the prettiest sewing-machine he ever saw was about seventeen years old, with short sleeves, low dress, and gai tea boots on. YVliy is the letter C like a generous fairy ? Because it turn 6 ash into cash. • Why is sweariug like a ragged coat ? It is a bad habit. ■ Man's two peril*— war and wotpen. THE OCEAN BOTTOM, Mr. Green, the famous diver, tells sin gular stories of his adventures when making search in the deep waters of the ocean.— He gives me some new sketches of what he saw at the "Silver Banks," near Hayti: The banks of the coral on which my divings were maue are about forty miles in length,and from ten to twenty in breadth On this bank of coral is presented to the diver one of the most beautiful and sublime scenes the eye ever beheld. The water raries from teu to one hundred feet in depth, and is so clear that the diver can see from two to three hundred feet when sub merged, with but little obstruction to the sight. The bottom of the ocean iu many places is as smooth as a marble floo-. in others it is studdied with coral columns from ten to one hundred feet in height, and from one to eighty feet in diameter. The tops of those more lofty support a myriad of pyra midaljieudants, each forming more, giving the reality to the imaginary abode of some water nymph. In other places the pen dants form arch after arch ; and as the di ver stands on the bottom of the ocean and gazes through the deep winding avenues, he finds they will fill him with as sacred an awe as if lie were in some old cathedral which hud long been buriea beneath old ocean waves. Here and there the coral extends even to the surface of the water, as if the loftier columns were towers be longing to these stately temples that are now in ruins. There arc countless varieties of diminu tive trees, shrubs aud plants in every crev ice of the corals where water had deposit fed the earth. They were all of a faint hue, owing to the pale light they received, although of every shade, and eutirelv dif ferent from any plants that I am familiar with that vegetate upon dry land ! one in particular attracted my attention ; it re semble ! a sea-fan of iiuinOpse size, of va riegated colors and the most brilliant hues. The fish which inhabit these' Silver Banks' 1 found as different in kind as the scenery was varied. They were of all forms, col - ors and sizes—from those of the symmet rical goby to the globe like sun-fish ; from those of the dullest hue to the change able dolphin ; from tne spots of the leop ard to the hues of the sunbeam ; from the harmless minnow to the voracious shark. There were also fish which resembled plants, and remained as fixed in their posi tion as a shrub ; the only power they pos sess is to open end shut, when in danger. Some of them resembled the rose in full bloom, aud were of all hues. These were the ribbon fish, from four or five inches to three feet in length ; their eyes are very large, and protrude like those of a frog. Another fish was spotted like a leopard, trom three to ten feet in length. They build their houses like beaVer3, in which they spawn, and the male and female watch tLe egg until it hatches. A RIUIITEOCS DEBT PAID IN FULL.— Some thirty-five years ago, St. Peter's Church in Bainbridge needing a bell, the members of that church and others raised a portion of the amount required for the purpose, and sent Hon. John C. Clark, and Capt. John Newton, then ot their village, and active men of the society, to Troy to make the purchase. YVhile on the way they came across Hon. John G. McDowell, of Chemung county, and then a State Sen ator, and casually made known to Lira their errand, and that they Had not funds enough to make payment in full. With characteristic liberality, Judge. McDowell tendered them the amount needed, exact ing only the promise that the bell should be tolled when he should pass away. The bell was bought elevated into its place in the tower of St. Peter's and hung there for all of those years, calling wor shippers to church, and communicants to the sacrament, arid ringing merry peals for merry weddings ; it has tolled for the dead, and tolled again at their burial And so years havo passed, until a few weeks ago, when Judge McDowell himself passed away, and the old bell which had told of so many deaths of those who had gathered at its bidding, and who are laid to rest within sound of its own echoings, told out mournfully and slow, as it spoke of his death, and who aided in its purchase, and who now sleeps his last sleep among the valleys and hills of his distant home.— Chenango Telegraph, EARLT RISING. — Early rising gives loug days, invigorating liurht in abundance, and healthy cheeks. This beautiful passage from Bulwer's Caxtons, is worthy of per petual remembrance : "1 was always an early riser. Happy the man who is ! Every morning comes to him with a virgin's love, lull of bloom and purity and freshness. The gladness of a happy child. I doubt if any man can be called "old" as long as he is an early riser and an early walker. Aud youth ! —take iny word for it—youth in dressing gown and slippers, dwadling over break fast at noon, is a vcrp decrepit, gli -stly im age of the youth which sees the sun blush over the mountains and the dews sparkle upon blossoming hedgerows. fg[r A young widow who had married an old man was forever speaking of "my first husband." The second lnisbond, at last gently responded. "1 guess" said the young wife, pouting, "Y'ou'll want me to remember YOU when you are dead and gone!" _ TERMS, 32,00 PER. _ £ ' / 77™~yv JZW Little Ella is about four years old* One day she committed an act of disobedi ence and her mother correcting her, spoke in no gentle tone of voice ; the child threw her arms around her mothers neck and ex* claimed, "Dear mama, pray forgive me ! If I had known how spunky it would hte ; made you I wouldn't have doae so." A I'ET LTOK. —A gentleman visiting A house in Algeria, says : —" In a few mo ments the door opened, and a lion entered the room, the man only leading him by the tuft of his mane. He was a magnificent animal, two years old, and full grown, all but bis tuane, which, although but a foot long, made, nevertheless, a respective ap pearance. He did not seem fo care abootf our being strangers, but walked about the room hke a large dog, permitted us to take liberties with him, such as patting him shaking a paw, and 'making him ex hibit his teeth and claws. He showed however, a predilection in favor of old ac quaintances and laying down before them, turned on his back to be scratched. After a scratch or two lie began to yawn, and was fairly settling himself for a nap, when a cigar wis puffed in his face, a proceeding he evidently did not approve of. Risihg in a hurry, curling his lips, and wrinkling ls nose, ho exposed to view a splendid set of teeth, a sure sign that he was not pleased. A hearty sneeze seemed to re store him to good temper; and bearing no malice, he returned a friendly pat, bestow ed on him by Capt. Martenot, who had been the aggressor, by rubbing his head caressingly on his knees."'— Kennedy's Al geria and Tunis. SINGULAR CASE, —Oneot our exchanges says there is a young man in a town°in Y ermout who cannot speak to his father ! previous to his birth, some difference arose between his mother and her husband, and for a considerable time she refused-to speak to him. This difficully was subsequently healed—the child was born, and in due time began to talk—but when sitting with his father was invariably silent. It contin ued so til! it was five year old, when the father, having exhausted his powers of per suasion, threatened it with punishment for at ub bo in ess. \\ hen the punishment wis inflicted, it elicited nothing but sighs and groans, which told but too plainly°that tho little sufferer was vainly endenvering to speak. All wno were present united in this opinion, that it was impossible for the child to speak to its fathers—and time ed their opinion to be correct. At a ma ture ago its efforts to converse with its pa rent could only produce the most bitter sighs and groans.—JV. Y. Ledger. AN EXAMPLE TO MOTHERS.— Queen Y ictoria, when at home, regularly teaches a Sunday school class and Bible class for the benefit of those residing in the palace and its vicinity. How attentive she is to her own children, may be inferred from a late pleasing circumstance. The Archdea con ot London on erne occasion was cate chising the youug princes, and, being sur prised at the accuracy of their answers, said to the youngest prince, "your govern ess deserves great credit for instructing so thoroughly in the catechism " Upon which the royal boy responded, "Oh, but it is mamma who teaches ua the catechism." Many American mothers may take a prof itable hint from this queenly practice. QVSER THINGS ABOUT WOMEN. —About women some queer things are said, which only the professed satirists have the hardi hood to publish. Everybody remembers Punch's abhorsion that "Men want all they can get and women all they can't get," Starr Kinc said in a lecture, "whenever three women are walking together, two of them arc laughing. G have ourselves remarked that of the meu and women wo meet in a fashionable promenade, the lat ter as a general thing have the more cheer ful look. An ill-natured bachelor, to whom wc mentioned the fact, said it was owing to their greater pride of apparel. "A well-dressed woman" said the impu dent churl, "is always happy." It has been noticed that invariably fat women envy the lcau ones, aud the lean ones tho fat. A rect nt writer contributes the follow ing: "The smaller a lady is, so much does she afttct sunflower rosettes, enormous flounces and extra-siied ornaments. Di minutive ladies invariably giant like gen tlemen, and vice versa. Ladies wbo are greatly admired by their own sex are very seldom viewed in the same light by gentle men. If you walk up the street with abo quet in your hand, nine women out of ten will look attentively at it, while not one man out often will notice its existence. It is a curious fact that those women who have made the most acquaintances during a long course of years, have by far the best memory of faces and persons. "Although women are supposed to bo the talkative sex, it is not less truo that in learning a foreign tongue men acquire more readily the facility in speaking it while ladies understand it better aud soon ci when spoken to." A Washington paper gets off the following:—Why is a crazy oil-speculator like the Secretary of the Navy ? lie is giddy on Wells, What paper has the largest eircula tiou i Counterfeit fifty cent currency. 1 • w VOL. 5 N035,