%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
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ADVEHTISIKT Gr.
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OIOUSanJ LITERARY NOTICES, not of genera
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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.
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VOL. 5 N035,