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ri'ICIOE:Vt'ICIALL.
jug 818 AND IRS GRAY.
The loyal Blue and the traitor Gray -
Alike in the grave - are sleeping,
Lying side by side in the sunlight's ray,
And the storm clouds weeping.
'Tis well to forgive the past—
God giving us grace we may, ,- --•
But never, While life shall last,
Can we honor or love the Gray.
Our Boys in Blue voere loyal - ano true,
For their God and their country dying,
With a grateful pride thatia ever new
an t e graves w ere ey re pug.
They were murdered by rebel hands,
They fell in the fearful fray;
Guarding our Flag from traitor hatuhl I
We do not love the Grey.
We would not hate them—our hearts would
fain
Cost a veil over their shameful story,
It will not bring back our loyal slain
To recall their treason gory.
But barriers deep and wide
Divide-the-false-from-the -true!
Shall treason and honor stand side by aide!
'D Lae 1-
Answers each loyal heart to-day,
“They are peers and equals never,
No wreaths on a traitors grave we lay,
Let shame be his weed forever."
Give love where love is due,
-To-the - loyal all honor pay ;- --
. • ; ,wd-Inmor-hektng-le-the-114u;,
_ But what do we owe to the Gray 1_
We-owe-them-three hundred thousand graves,
Where the loved and the lost are lying;
We owe them, wherever our banner waves,
Homes filled with tears and sighing.
Do they think we forgot our dead,
Our boys who wore the Blue? •
That because they sleep in the same cold bed
kaow not the false from the true I
13 ‘.. ‘e; . e it not ! where our heroes lie
The very ground la hoty.
His name who dared for the right to die
Ie sacred. however lowly.
But honor the TRAITOR, Gi/Alr !
Make rr the-peer of the Blue!
One flower at the feet of treason lay !
.Never ! while God iv true !
THREE WORDS OF ETHENGTO.
There are three lessons 1 would write—
. Three words Ps with_a-burning pen—
In tracings of eternal light
Upon the hearts of men.
Have Hope Though clouds environ now,
And gladness hides her face in scorn,
Put then the shadow from thy brow ;
No night but hath its morn.
Have faith. Whert 'er thy bark is driven--
The cairn's disport, the tempest's mirth—
Know this: God rules the4ost of heaven,
-- The inhabitants of earth.
Have Love. And nut alone for one,
But man, as man, thy brother call;
And scatter, like the circling sun,
'i•hy charities on all.'
Thus grave the lessons on thy soul—
Hope, Faith and Love—and thou shalt find
Strength when life's surges cease to roll,
Light when thou else wert blind,
ATIMC)I73T-BIJAL.NW.
FORT SU NI TER A correspondent has
been visiting Charleston Harbor and thus
writes relative to the fortifications therein:
.To day I visited Sunater, where the war
began. Charleston, like New York, has a
river on either side and a bay in front, and
four mike down this bay, on a sand bar equi•
distant from the shores, which here emerge
into a species of narrows, is the far-famed,
long-contested fortress. Originally it was a
handsome stone fort, surrounded by a wall
sixty feet in height and with three tiers of
guns, siege, barbette, and parapet Now it
is a heap of crashed brick, and pounded
stone, with a battery or two and some ex.
temporaneons magazines and quarters under
neath_the rubbish. The parapets are crum
bled, the case-mates beat out of all shape,
the parade ground torn up into sinks and
gullies, and nothing remains to indicate the
fort but the flag eihich still floats, - and a gar•
risen of an ordinance sergeant and four of
the colored troops who • fought nnhly. To
the right are •batteries Gregg and Wagner;
to the left Fort Moultrie, ail in like manner
honeycombed with shot, and beneath man's ,
fury and elemental . war, fast resolving them
selves back into their original element.—
.. Wham the'great guns boomed, there is no
sonhil but the.loon's- cry across- the waters,
betokening, as the boatmen say, the fresh
ening wind. Where .the smoke of powder .
lowered.night And day, the heavens are as
clear as the crystal depths of running water.
Where the war-ships came up, broadside, to
deliver, their fire, are a fete fishing smacks
and a steamer outward boiled.- Where the
armies-camped, and the Sit*, -Magelt ail
ed its monstrous shells upon the city. all ;a
: :
Mr. George Strode% of 04t104100 - ,ti3,,
years, is•the father. of thiiiy
three ehildrens.and'oloctal4beet , intimates
that , eoriiiug.'eireate ettetio 'to "east , their
shadows before.', • •
, • ,
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PENNSIIVANIA,FRIDAY MORNING, MAY 1, 1868.
_ .
[From the Pity4lo
A FOOL AND HAS MONEY
401INNT STEEL," THE LATE OIL PRINCE
John W. Steel, familiarly known as 'John
ny steel,' and somewhat distinguished as an
'oil prince, having.for a considerable length
of time enjoyed the princely income of $3.-
000 per day, filed, in , the United States Dis
trict Court, a voluntary petition in bank
ruptcy. Many of our readers will remem
ber his romantic exploits in the east, pub
lished some time ago,-during -which -he—is
reported to have squandered several hun
dred thousand dollars. After having 'sow
ed his wild oats,' and losing his oil farm, be
found himself in rather straitened circum
stances, and was recently compelled to earn
a living by driving-an oil Sewn. His-indebt
edness, as set forth in his petition, amounts
to overy 8100,000.
new in the neighborhood of twenty three
years of age. He has had but little educa
tion, has no business qualifications or shrewd
ness, and seems especially cut out by Dame
Nature to attest the truth of the proverb
that 'A fool and his money are soon part
ed.' 01 his early youth we know very lit
tle; manhood and riches sprang upon him
about the same time. his interest in the'
famous McClintock farm and oil wells, in
Venango snooty, bequeathed him by his
father, for a number of years yielded him an
income ofls-3;ooo—pur-dur.—This-prineely
income--was.the means of awakening in 'Joh n
ny'-an- ambition - too - seek—other--fields-and
sources of amuserneut than those offered in
the wilds of Venaugo county. We heard of
him first by his lavish waste of wealth in
Philadelphia. Here he made the acquain
tance of Messrs Skiff & Gaylord, of minstrel
fame, and one of his first rash purchases was
au entire - new outfit for the - minstrels; - com - - -
.
; • o ve ve cos : i • • • .
trowsers (many of our readers will remem•
ber-the troupe in this uniform,) To those
eccentric costumes he added diamond breast
pins of the first water, end a new suit of
clothes for each member for the street.—
Several members of Caracross & Dixey's
minstrels, of Philadelphia, were also favored
in the same manner.
Another of 'Johnny's' eccentric acts in
Philadelphia is related as follows. Walk
ing along Chestnut street one day with a
friend, he espied a liettutiful span of horses
attached to a e cartisolt, st timing
down from See - oid.To see was to envy; so,
hailing the driver, Sam Ml----,who as it
happened, was also the owner, 'Johnny'
coolly asked him if he would sell his, estab
lishment.. Sam looked credulously at his
customer, wondering if he Are drunk or
crazy, when 'Johnny' again put. forward
the question :
_'What will you take for the
whole rig ?' Sam with a wink, and while
knocking the ashes from his cigar, doubtless
thinking to frighten his unknown customer,
• • .ed 'Weil, i guet-s about $7,000 will
take the lot. 'Johnny' answered by lay
ing seven one thousand dollar bills on. the
seat of the vehicle, and taking hold of the
reins, cooly said, 'flop out;' and 'hop out!
Sam did, while 'Johnny' drove off, leaving
Sam standing in amazement on the corner.
The day was spent in riding about the city,
and spending money lavishly; toward even
ing he, had employed a man to drive, and
finally while winding up the day, he reach
ed the Girard [louse, alighting on the pave
meat, he asked the driver as to his circum
stances, and learning that he knew 'the grip
of poverty,"Johnny' made him a present
of the horses and carriage, telling the driver
not to offer thanks, but to 'drive off quick'
While in Philadelphia, one of the eccen
tricities of his morning walks on Market
,or
Walnut Streets, was to watch for a man
with a shabby hat, jle would then follow
him until he got in front of a hat store, and
then, with a swoop, he would laud the offend.
ing hat into the middle of the street, at the
soak time apologizing to the wearer, and ask
ing him inta the store, where he would buy
him the best to be had.
"Johnny" never carried 'any baggage with
him while traveling, purchasinr , everything
as he required it. Having resolved one day
to stop at the Continental hotel, instead of
his usual retreat—the Girard—he. was driv
en there in company with a friend, Mr. Wm.
B—y, a noted merchant, of our own ci
ty. Sauntering up to the office, he made
known his desire to 'stop a while' The
clerk asked him as to the whereabouts af his
baggage ; 'Jobony' replied that he had none.
`Then,' says the clerk, 'you must pay in
advance; that is our rule.' 'Johnny' cast
a glance at him, and wondered that he was
not !mown So, winking at his friend B ,
he asked the clerk if the proprietor was in ;
receiving a reply is the affirmative, the land
lord soon made his appearance, when a con
versation of the. following tenor ensued :
J. S.--'You are the proprietor, I believe,
sir—the responsible man
Mr. K.—(Yes, sir.'
J. S wanted• to make a short stay
with you, but that gentleman (painting to
the clerk) says I must pay in advance'
Mr. sir.'
J. 8.-‘llaw'nruch do you consider. your
whole house worth - for a day •
Mr. K
J. S.--',11.1 take 24 hours anyhow, add see
how it , goes.
'Johnny' then• counted out the mon sr, and
turning to his friend r saya ,'Now, Bill, jump
in and play clerk. . Rumor says this was B's
fiat and only te;periencein- hotel keeping.
Tbetenre many anecdotes . related
. khout
hitn,hut the above will suffice to *ow, the
'general abaraeter of tilt:kraut.
,Vl'hon, More
recently, the avalanche of Aioßey-bad ea
,
Initiated itself, we hearaef"JuhrtnyLacting in
the etitilteitY.ordoor•keeper fortbrOvely Same
band r ,af.tuinstrels the tortiters, ( of,wbielt ho
bad.giiin,the diamond pins and' et:Mit:ll2s.
4 t. . ,
X3a.cleipeisclorLt El'ark3.ll - yr I•TE3l7,;ri!talartieote.
STORY FOR SISTERS.
Twenty five years ago this bright October,
when the maple trees were covered with
crimson and gold, and ,the chrysantheums
and asters were blooming, and the golden
quinces ripening, a lovely little girl played
with her sister in a happy home. Her beau
ty was rare. Health and grace were in ev
ery feature. ,$o brilliant Bed beauteous was
the expression that this child's face ever
wore that passers by and strangers often
paused to admire and comment on her unusu
al-loveliness Her voice - was - musical as the
tones of a bird. I can, through all these
years, still hear her silvery tones as she war
bled the hymns and songs so familiar to her.
I can see her joyous face lit up -with pleas.
arc as her scarcely - lase happy__ grandfather
turned-his great -base-viol and -said, 'Come,
Irene, let us have
Her name, Irene, is the Greek word for
peace. Ido not know that her mother knew
that, however, when - she gave it to her, but
never was, a name more fitting. So gentle
and kind ' as her disposition that it seemed
next to impossible that strife and contention
should be where her mild voice *was heard,
Among her schoolmates, as well as in the
family, she was known as the little peace
maker.
Fivo years her little life made beautiful
this earth, and then the Lord had need of
-her.
One still October Sunday, such as these'
'are-now; Irene-repeated - foe - the last time her
favorite psalms, and sang her anthems and
chants; and read with her mother the clos
ing chapters of Revelations, her sweet spirit
glorifying God all day.
At night the angel who comes to all of us
came to her. Before another Sabbath dawn
ed the dear child, who hi - id truly loved the
•-• while ',h - gTle
..viour while on earti.,, was called
by Him to sing the song of redeeming love
before His throne in heaven.
During her illness a friend sent some fine
fruits to cheer her weary hours with their
sight and fragrance. Among these wore
some large, ripe golden quinces.
Her sister Mary, a child of nine years,
was passionately fond of Irene. ,she was
however, an ambitious student, with thoughts
and studies far ra advance of her years. Int •
pulsive, ardent and intense in ber nature,
her power of loving_was_only equaled-by-her
_eapaeity_forsuflering.
One noontime, when busily figuring a.dif
ficult sum in arithmetic, she was disturbed
by Irene's request for a fresh drink.
'Yes, pretty soon,' she answered abstract
edly, without looking up from her slate.
A few moments passed and again Irene
ettlled—
'Mary—Mary) do get me some fresh wa-
• 'Yes, in a minute. Nine into seventy-six
eight times and four over,' tid Mary, all in
ona breath.
Again her sweet voice pleaded
'Oh, I-do wish I had a drink I. Won't you
lend we your slate and pencil to make me
some pictures. Mary ?'
But Nary, annoyed by the constant ask
ing and intent upon the finishing of a long
line of sums before school time, had lost her
patience and crossly exclaimed— •
'Oh, Irene ! you bothering little thing !
you've made me forget this whole row and I
shan't have time now to finish my sums be-
fore school time. What a plague!'
Then, fur the first time, she looked up
and saw the flushed cheeks and fevered lips
of the sick sister and her heart smote her.
• "1 didn't know you were doing your sums,
Mary,' said the sweet voice, regretfully.
But Mary could not answer. She hold
the glass to her sister's lips and sighed sad
ly. tier impatience was gone, but the grief
for her unkind words was too sharp for
words. She caught up her bonnet and
walked elowly to sohool.
The next morning a sound of hurrying
steps through the rooms Awakened Mary,
from her sleep Her eyes rested on her
mother wbo was weeping bitterly. A sud-
den agony of fear swept over her.-
‘ls not Irene better r she asked.
'She is worse—she is dying sobbed her
mother.
To dress and descend to Irene's bed side
was the work of but few moments.,
Too late ! The sweet spirit hovered on the
border of the beautiful laud and the glory of
heaven already rested on the lovely comae.
mince. The gendo lips murmured constant.
ly, 'Oh ! who is it that I sec all dressed is
white, so beautiful ?'
I stood by that bedside and saw the sad
parting and 1 knew that no one of all that
band of sorrow-carried so sharp a cross as
did that remorseful sister; for I knew about
the hasty words and the ungracious favor.
The nest day, as Mary wept beside the
white robed form that lay so still and cold
in the darkened parlor, she kissed again and
again the waxen brow and murmured pas
sionately between her sobs, 'Oh, Irene I
rene! if only I hadn't been Bross. to you 1'
The golden quinces still lay upon the man
tie and all the room was perfumed with their
fragrance. And this week, as I , walked in
the quince orchard that belongs to Mary's.
beautiful home, admiring the plow fruits
thickly dependino b on the boughs, I spoke of
their delightful fragrance. Mary said :
*lt . is a. quarter of a century to-day since
Irene died, yet it seems to me but as yester
day. Through all these years I have never
smelled the'fragraiice of the•ripening quin
ces without being instantly .transported to
that childhood home and having the whole
panorama of Irene's sickness and death come
up before mo vivid and ,distinct in every
partieubr.' She sighed ; sadly.
'ln every particular.' ' • •
'Oh •I I knew that the metotirY . Of those un
kind words atil rankled like a sharp arrow
in her.heart.
Oh, little darlings who read this true -sto
ry, be laud , to your sisters 1 An unkind
word may cause the pleasant orchard smells
to give you pain %quarter of - a century to
come. -
Be good to your sisters.
Shutting Doors
'Don't look so cross, Edward, when I cell
you back to shut the door; grandpa feels the
March wind. You have got to spend youi
life shutting doors, and might as well begin
to learn now, Edward.
'Do forgive me, grau'pa. I ought to be
ashamed. Bitt what do you mean T 1 am
going to college, and then I'm going to be
a lawyer.' - -
'Wolk % admitting all that, I imagine 'Squire
Edward Carter' will have's good many door!
to shat, if he ever inakei fetich of it man.' -
'What kind of doors ? Do tell me, grand-
'Sit down a minute, and Pll give you a
list. In the first place, the door of your
ears must be closed agaiust the bad language
and vile counsel of the boys and young men
you will meet at school and college, or you
will be undone. Let them once get posses-
sion of the door, and I would not give mach
for Edward Carter's future prospects.
The door of your eyes, too, must be abut
against bad books, idle novels, and low, wick
ed newspapers; or your studies will be neg
lected, and you will grow up a useless, ig-
norant man. You will have to close' them
sometimes against the fine things exposed
tor sale in the store windows, or you will
never learn to lay up money, or have any left
to give away.
The -door of your lips will need especial
oare, for they guard an unruly member,
which makes great use of the bad company
let in at the door of the eyes and ears.—
That door is verp_apt_to_blow open, - and if
not COD ;t . • r _,,,z
trifling, or vulgar words. It will backbite
sometimes worse than a March wind-if it is
left-open too long I would advise you to
keep it shut much of the time till you have
laid up a store of knowledge, or, at least, till
you have something valuable to say.
_
The inner door of your heart must be
Well abut against temptation; for conscience
the doorkeeper, grows very indifferent if
you disregard her call, and sometimes drops
asleep at her post; and when you may think 1
you are doing very well, you_are-fast—going- 1
down to rui
f you carefully guard the outside doors
of the eyes and ears and lips, you will keep
out many cold blasts of sin—which get in
before-you think'
calf' shutting &ors, you see, Eddie, will
be a serioue business—one on which your
well-doing in this life and the next de
pends.'
Ronianee in Real Life.
Some two years since there arrived in Di
nois,-from Switzerland, a young man of good
ly appearance and fair educational acquire;
wants. So wail was he pleased with hie new
home that be soon reported to his friends a
cross the water the many advantages that an
honest, indutrious imigrant found here. A
young lady io Switzerland—an entire stian•
gor to him—learning from a lady friend of
his-happy situation in America, wrote to him
through the friend that she would like to
visit his adopted home, and along with the
letter she forwarded her photograph. • He
was pleased with the picture—the features
were faro to look upon, and the letter indi
cated a well educated mind,'so he sent her
his photograph. Thus commenced a cones
pondenco that in a few months attracted her
across the ocean to meet the man she had
learned to love, though had never seen.—
With a friend she arrived the last of Octo
ber, when her unknown lover met her as she
alighted from the cars —inquiring, like one
of old, if she were his Katharine—and there
he first saw and kissed her as his affianced.
Within two . days the couple, thus, strangely
and romantically brought together, were
married, both seemingly as happy as if there
had been a five years courtship.
Humanity•
All are striving after . wealth, honor and
power The poor are claiming wealth on) y
that they may be above wast, the rich are
seeking, to add thousands to their millions ,
So we move. No one appears to think how
soon he may sink into oblivion— that we are
One generation-of millions.—Yet'such is the
feet. Time and progress hive through count
lees ages come Marching hand in.hand--the
one destroying. the other building op.—
They seem to create little or no commotion,
and the work of destruction is as easily and
silently accomplished as a child will pull to
pieces a rose A hundred years hence and
much of that we now see around us, will,
too, paFs sway. it is but ihe.simple;repeti
tioe of I:fe's story. We are „born—we
live—we die—and hence we wilt not grieve
over those venerable piles finding thp com
mon level of their propotypes in nature—an
ultimate death.
• :It is pleasant, to say to'all the brotherhood
and sisterhood of ugliness arid lameness, that
that there is every reason to believe that
there is no such thing in [leaven us a one
• iegged or, club-footed soul—no such thing
as an, ugly or misshapen soul—no/suet thing
as a blind or deaf soul—no such a thing as
.a soul with tainted blood ill-, its vein; and
that out o £ these imperfect bodies .wil
spring spirits-of consummate perfeetioo and
and angelic leatityr—li beauty obasieoed and
enriched, by the humiliations that were visit
ed upon their earthly habitations
A Mrs. Tiaolr, lidag ant West, named
her first baby GrienAn'editor ia :speaking
of if; mai? be holiril the little green•back•was'
a legal-tender.
Wits a Curiosity':
It is a Ouriosity to find a politician who
will hold an argument with an opponent fat
half an hour without getting angryv -
It is a curiosity to find a person who does
not think his own children possessed of more
talent and accomplishment's, thap those. of
his neighbors.
It is a curiosity to find an artist who does
not think himself perfect in bis profession.
' It is a 'curiosity to' find & Nies of .fifteen
who has not began to think-of getting a hus
band. It is a curiosity• to find an_ old: maid
who does not wonder that she has not long
before been married.
It is a curiosity to receive it letter froin a
lady which has not aP. 8. attached. to it. •
'lt is a curiosity to meet with a woman who
Stammers in conversation.
It is a carioaity , to find a' laWyet WWI
pleads a ease aucoessfully for you and then
. : portion ef_fria_feca
It is a curiosity to find a physician who,
having restored you,to health does not Wish
you to think he has performed a wonderful
cure
It is a curiosity to find a dentist who will
not tell you he can extract a tooth and 'calm
less pain than any one , else.
It is a curiosity to find a sohool•master
who does not wish to be understood that he
knows more than anybody else.
It is a curiosity to find an 'editor who does
not know every thing, and more too. '
any oEce who does not — tbiok he is fully f eu.
titled to the suffrage of his fellow citizens. .1
A Plea for garly Mairiages
Rev Henry Morgan lectured in Boston
some time ago on the subject, 'Young Men
and Early Marriages.' lie said, among oth
er thingS:
___2Nature,_histor
and_revela tion—declare
'lt is not good that man should be alone.'
Ile needs a hell mate—a wife is the balance
wheel, the regular guardian angel of a
husband's trust, confiepee and prosperity.
Politically, socially, morally and spiritually,
it
man requires a wife. Man needs a home.
The Romans gave • bachelors no le,ganies
Corinth denied them sepulchers. Athen- .
iana scourged them. .Tn Plato's common
wealth, at the age of thirty-five they were
fined. Man is but ball a man without a
_wife. In all_your_gettings, get a wife, and
never-rest-f rota-getting-6 11-you-get-marrietl.-
Bettir live in an attic, under the hallowed
influence of a wife, than revel in a palace
of dissipation. Man needs a home. Marri
age is the legitimate basis of a genuine
home. Look at - the deplorable condition of
tfittioung men of every city without homes.
Boarding houses have no elevating society
of women, no home influences, no - place of
mental or moral improvement, no, altar of
prayer., no angel of love.'
The Ancient Roman Woman.
The ancient Romano, in some respects,
were in advance of the present ago 'in' their
practical physiological knowledge. This was
especially the ease in the habits of the wo
men. They seemed to be fully• aware that
a hardy race must be born of healthful
mothers, and consequently any usage 1 -Dr
practice likely to effect injuriously the health
of women was viewed by the State with
suspicion. The muscles were systematically
educated. Frequent bathing was required
by law. Large bath-houses were establish
ed, which were places of common resort.
For 'levers' centuries of the best ages of
Rome it was a criminal offense for a Roman
mother to drink intoxicating liquors. At
the time of our Saviour coe earth, and for a
long period after, it was considered infamous
fcr a Roman'woman to tacle winr. For a
guest to offer a glass of wine to one of the
household was looked upon as a deep insult,
as it implied a want of chastity on her part.
History records several cases where they
were put to death by their husbands be
cause they smelt of 'tomotum.' The conse
quence of this physical training and absti
pence from all intoxicating liquor was thet
the Romans were noted for their endurance
and strength.
Elam Barrett, the learned blacksmith, is
said to have studied many languages—more
than fifty-- while working at the anvil. Shoe
makers have become legislators and states
meri ; and a good taylor may be promoted to
a high office. Gen. Grant was d tanner and
currier. All great men, or men who rise in
life have ben real workers and bard students.
Nor is it wise to be over nice as to the calling
So that it be useful and honorable. Too ma
ny, who are dot fit for them, aim for -tbe
learned professions,
not realizing the feat,
that it is better to be a good mechanic, farmer
or merchant, di: n a poor lawyer, doctor or
preacher. The question should be, 'in what
calling can Ido the most gocid be most Use
ful? succeed the best?' , 13u. if you would
not become a dependent pauper, a miserable
vagabond, go to work and do ,something—
make brooms or baskets, fish nets or fanning
mills, and thus call the faculties into use,
and devel !p them. It is wicked to be. idle.
.
What are you doing ? .
Iti area property case before' a _French
judge at an early perio(F at the: Revolution
(the story is told by the elder Berrycr), the
defendant, whose title was contested. proved
that the estate had beau in his, family for
more than two hundred years. , IVell, then,'
said the judge, 4 it is now-fall time for anoth
er family to have a-turn.' . . .•
A Priit —A fellow who wai lirotight to
Ktiy, jri+thea , could 'eat. it wink alibi, a
whole sheep at ti meal. •41%rhat•erso call he
do,' asked the' king r ittiororihan other men?'
,bl.9ibitig,t.weß th e rep o,,,-, gllang him thou,'
Said hates, bfor it is a pity a man slionld live
who eats (ho Share of twenty won,
,and — can
do n 6 mote than ono.'
isaick) - 3Peak• "Itepaz•
, , , . r
- NUMBER 48
All for. his Child.
A about time shwa; a !tither ittigh-apliear•
ing man from .the remote, interior. walked in.
to the Granite Rank, Augusta, Me., and in
quired—
,; ,
this /Ir.'`Jehiison, the cashier.'
• 'lt is; sir whet wilt you' hive'?'
'Do you pay any of your Old•bank bills pout'
'Certainly'
'Well, now, that - is good. Yon see I had
some of your and the:other day I offer.
ed them, at the, Sandy River Sank; but they
,didn't riant them,and said you Would take
them; bo here they die.'
The eaahiet 6otintod the bills=..about $lOO.
He then inquired
'fLow long have you had these bills ?'
'lt's about six years.!.
'How happened you to keep itli,em so long?'
'Well, you see I had okay one ebild—a
girl fifteen and a half years old t and she died;_
ken I didn't care ahlirif the money and
prat it away into afi'old bony-dad there it has
boon. . . ,
The lunip,ume.to his throat, and the tears
streamed down , his furrowed cheeks u he
turned aside, in • memory of his child for
whom the money bad been flayed.
How TO RAISE FRUIT EVERY YEAR..-..
If rightly understood, few trees, unless ab
solutely dead or rotten, need occupy ground
without yielding a plenteous erop. After
a long and varied series of experiments,
I
-gradually-adopted - the - following mode..
soon as the winter has sufficiently disappear.
ed, and before the Aar. ascends, I examine
my trees; avery'dead imagh is lopped -off;
when sap has,riseit sufficiently to show where
the blossoms Will be, I cat away alI the oth
er brantSbes having none on,'and also the ex
, :re a l:l: b y o f e very limb, the lower part which
bears a considerable number of buds, thus
coneentrating.the sap of the, tree upon
- -- nolas — f - - lcl
. .
Jation of antisaving that
which would be a useless expenditure of its
strength.
In the quince, apricot and peaoh tree, thin
is very important, as these ate very apt
to be too luxurient in leaves and destivute
of fruit. Yon may think this injures the
trees, but it does not O'er you will find trees
laden with fruit, which formerly yielded
nothing. Of course all other known precau—
tions must be attended to ; such as cutting
out worms from the roots, plicing old iron
on the limbs,' which not es a tonic to the sap
ry it, ye w
Rate, nye Josh Billings, originally name
from Norway, and I wish they had originally
staid share.
They are about an d uaealled For AO a pane
in the email of the back.
I suppose there is between fifty and six
ty millions of rata in Amerlea—l quote now
entirely from, memory--and I don't suppose
there is a ceeeeseary net in the,Whole lot.
This shoirs at glano how menoy taste
rats thane
Rats enhance in numbers lister thin shit.
pegs do by machinery.
'line pair of healtilvy rats all that enny
man wants to start the rat biSuez with, and
ie 9D dase,-without eny outlay, ho will be
gin tew have rats—tew turn Opk.
Rats, viewed from enny platform you can
build, are unapeakibly cusaid,
RATHER. A HARD STORY.—Tbe Salem
(Ind.) Dimes tells the following yarn. You
may believe it if -you want to, but we most
respectfully decline :
"Abner Fields, living in Howard town.
ship, Chit county, had a cow which was de
livered of twenty-eight calves in one day.---
The two largest are about the size of ordina
ry twin calves, the next about • half size, and
the remaining twenty-five about the size of
an orainary rat._ They are all dead—moth
er included—except the two largest, which
are doing well. We bad the statement above
given from Mr. Fields 'himself, and from
several-neighbors• of his who witnessed the
sight, and who are fully entitled to belief as
any persons in the warld. This is the most
singular freak of nature of the kind of which
we ever heard."
A eountry schoolmaster, preparing for au
exhibition of his school, selected a class or
pupils and, wrote down the qoestioos he
would pu t
, to them on examination day.—
The day arrived, and so did the hiLpetuls,
all• but one. The pupils cook their places
as had her arranged, and all went on glibly
until the question of the absentee came,
when the teacher asked, whom do y. u
believe ?"Napoleon Bonaparte,' was the
answer quickly returned. 'You believe in
the .Establisbed Church, do you not 1' 'No,'
said the youngster, 'the boy that believes in
the eh urehlasn't some to school to-day
' The Columbia Chroni lte says: Asa t h'n
a3an, was recentl y walkiug up frotn Green
ville depot; he found hitnselt pertinfielouery
followed by a ferocious 'dorg.' Not liking
the eye of the beast, the traveller asked a
boy; 'what that htingry idoking Wound 1 , 7 .$
fblfoaing him for ?' „
'Can't say, eortaio, itrang4: was the icu
pudent-repty of the yoanas!er s 'but rtookua
he takes you fur a 'hone.'
To tothet the bitter''taite' that cranber
ries satnetheei have, 'add to them' trh , le
stewing as Una poda as you can take'upon
the pobit 'of a penknife,:
Me . Persians have a sayitz,' that • 'ten•
measures of talk were seat down upon earth
and the women .
41 111orking-foi , liare tite" defined' to be
waking clothes for a new baby.
toogue like a hocip
cause there is nu, eiuttp ; u. ,
To stlit ptitues'rdttilia—iit
Y'a._.
a...:'L
0 bare failed in raising
----