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IR. H3. WILLIAMS,
STAPLE AND FANCY
CIGARS, NMirr, PJCPfS,
TIN WARE, QUEENSWARE & GLASSWARE,
All of which will be sold as cheap as the cheapest.
Sharp's Old Stand, Main
BOOTS, SHOES, HATS & OAPS,
KKI'S a large, extensive and
llought direct from Manufacturers;
rf.l : r
Champions 3S333E35333353H333 ssuoiduivqf)
Cham 1)10118 S
Champions i.iao ttBuoidm!,)
HI l) O) CD 8) Bl M
Champions 523HH2SE3SEES3H2BE3 tmoiduitnjf)
Champions JijljjSJSjSjSJSjSjSjSjSjljSjSjjS suojduiuq f)
Champions) yuoCDoDS; suotdumto
Exclusive Kight to sell ihc Celebrated Champion Shoe
WHICH HAS 15KEN UKDUCKD FROM $3 CO TO $3 OO.
ITT Kvery pair of Champions Is warranted good, honest and wrvlcealile, in eery
particular, equal to me nest custom mane nuoe and worm tbe money.
Will not bo undersold. Call and examine before purchasing elsewhere.
Sign of the Big Boot, Corner Main and Market st.
And Etey & Co.'h, Geo. "Woods and Loriug & Blake's
PARLOR AND CHURCH ORGANS,
27-t Second Street, A urea' Building, Memphis, Term.
i. IHMXEJfRKItO Is a Practical Piano unci Oivan Builder. Particular attention
luid to tbe pun-banc, sale and renting of second-hand I'ianos and Organs, an J to
Tuning aud Rcpalriug' I'ianos and Organs.
1AM now rec-lviiig a very largo and select stock or everything in the DRUG and
MKD1C1NK line, together with a very tine ami elegant assortment of the choicest
Fcrfumcry, Colognes, Hair Oils, Pomades, Combs, Brushes,
Etc., Powder Puffs and Puff Boxes.
All ir niv goods nre purchased direct from the manufacturer am! Importers In New
York and Philadelphia, at their lowest cash prices, coneiuciitly I can oiler superior
Inducement to all cash till vers.
I would call particular attention U my una utock of Pure Laiuor,
f RENCH BRANDY, WINE AND PURE WHISKIES,
r which I have the finest goods in the city.
We make th IllllnR of preacrlptiona a specialty, and hope by the most cart ful atten
tion, and I be ua of none except the very beat and purest drug, to maintain the repu
tation and standing of my house tor the past Ave years.
1 also have on hand a very larga utock of the best brands of
White levari, IiliMccd Oil,
And Paints of all kind, and on which I cannot be undersold by anybody.
CUBBIN, GUNN & COOVER,
Planing Mill and Lumber Yard.
lMr, Sahti, ltliiid.H, Mould insrs, llaliiHterH, Newel Posts, Flooring:,
Celling, Siding, l'allng, brackets, i;tc, 1-Ztc
A LARGS STOCK OT
1st, Sl ami 3rd luallty of White llno,
Yellow Pine, Cypres, Laths, Shliigles, &c
A'o. JOt, 1G3 and 165 Washington Street,
Match 18, 1871-12U1. MEMPUIS, TCNNESSEE.
FULL AND COMPLBTE SUCCESS!!
LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY.
ASSETS, NEARLY ONE MILLION DOLLARS.
T. A. NFI.SON, rrcsident;
AMOS WOODRUFF, and
F. M. WHITE, Vice-President;
T. A. Nel.-on,
tien.Johu K. (iordon,
t. It. Townsend.
II. A. Partec,
K. C. Brinkley,
vIVIDKVUS ileulaml annually at the end of each policy year.
All l'iili-ics nim-lorfeitia uhrr two annual payments.
PriKlenlly, honestly and economically mauuged, it 'oilers special inducement to those
Activeauti reliable Agents wanted.
THOMPSON & SIMMON'S.,
Geaeral Agents, Memphis, Temi.
Ir. J. P. BIcGEE,
Ueu'l. Agent for West. Teun., at Trenton, Tenu.
OF SAINT LOUIS.
Oilers its services to the- people of AVcst Tennessee as a candidate- for
Life Insurance, and in doing so will be controlled by all the wise and lib
eral features known to the science.
Jits XNIicIeH are All Nou-ITorfcitable!
After the payment of ONE Annual Premium.
So restriction i imposed on travel or residence in the United
States, British Provinces or Europe.
None but reallv extrahazardous occupations restricted.
tn liberality of n.aturo, abwluw security
.l I'V biMuaila claims for preferment.
Th lManl ol oilicers stand unsurpassed ir - teir skill and ability as '11
nancters, anj are national iu their reputation
JAMIW .1. 'K VI.I.OS, President.
A. M. Itlil lTON, Vicj President.
S. W. lA M A X, Secretary.
II. S. Ufcll'll, AssisUut Secretary.
Jas. II. I.ucax,
A. M. Krittoii,
I. J. if Fallon,
S. A. Hatch,
J as. Laipe,
Home OGleo No. 213, North Third Street.
Wheeless & Hamilton, State Agents, trahvllle, Tennessee.
1C. u. DASU1 Ef.Ti, M. I4 Medical Examiner.
Street, Jackson, Tennessee.
exclusive dealer in
v?ll assorted stock of Ladle-, Misses
and Men, Boys and Youth's
Hats and Caps.
- - ii i iiit'ii
to SO ts V
aaaaas-aaaaaaaasa a fuoifiuitft'f)
(S fll OS OB ffi CO
M. II. Cuovkb.
HKN. MAY, S. oretarv;
C1I AS. T. I'ATTEKSON, Ass't Sec;
F. S. DAVIS, Treasurer.
K. M. AVhite,
W. V. Ireland,
C. W. Kr:u!rr.
J. W. JlcCown.
('has. Kortret ht,
W. H. t'herry.
and prudcut management, the MUL'NU
C. O. McaATl'OX. tieneral AirenU
Vf. K. UAHVKY. Consultim; Actuary.
THUS. A. Kl'SSKLL. AtU.rnev.
W. HATCH, M. U., jacdicid Uliicer.
A. M. AVaterman,
A. li. Garrison,
J. M. Harney,
TUos. A. UuV-ell.
WHIG AND TRIBUNE
PUBLISHED KVERY BATURHAY,
, W. GATES. DON CAMERON,
I. M. WISDOM. J. T. UU.no,
Under the Firm and Stylt of
W. "W. GATES &c CO
Tkiims ok Scbhcription. Two dollars
i year, jtriO''(y aaoance.
Single copies l cenw.
Advk.rtisino Katks. Adverti.emenU
inserted for a lefli W'rnj than turee inontii
w ill be rbanrnl 1 W p-r wjuare or eu'h
lines, or less, for the lirst insertion, and
lor . ach subsequent insertion.
12 month a.
I square, f
f 20 IXJ
i column. W
U " 50 00
1 " 0 00
3" One inch spare constitutes a square
Where advertisement are ordered to !-
unusually Jisnlaved they will be enarvei
forac oniinif to the space they occupy; one
inch to constitute a square.
Khoritt. ' -rks am i:an"ers. wno sen
us their patronage will receive tho v lug;
r7yc:NtiiDiTK For announ!ln? ran
ili.lHten lor ( ounlv ollices ami th I'jfi-I
turc, H; for Congress for Municipal
and civil district oliieea. t5 all in advance.
lAl.Sti AI UtAB.
1 have been through the cabinet,
And, kcarchini;, I found there,
Apart from other relics set,
A lock of chestnut hair.
A letter with a crimson Mai,
A letter with a black:
1 1 wished I could not think or f I,
For then old limes back.
Oh, chestnut curl, bo bright and warm:
You waved above a brow
Undiinmcd by care, unscathed by tturm-
Methinksl see it now.
And yet the gold thrs ads glancing through
Your fold so glossy fair,
I know should be of sable hue
To match the stain 'hey bear.
Oh, letter with the seal of red!
You have some witching lore.
Sweet as was ever sung or said
In fairy days of yore.
Oh, letter with the seal of black!
Your spell has thawed my brain,
The pent up tears come gnsblug back
Like heavy, blinding rain.
And now in either hand I hold
These relics ol the past,
Yearning for once warm lips now cold,
And joys that might not last.
I read the false sweet legend on
The lying seal ol road;
Then strike my heart, as strikes a stone,
These three words "Ho is dead."
In the summer of 1813, a band of Se
neca ludians were encamped on tho
banks of the Oenssee river. They
wore on their return from a hunting
expedition to their main reserva
tions near tho shores of Lake Erie,
and were anxious to hasten their
movements, for tho purpose of of
fering their services for tho defence
of the frontier to their American al
lies, in the war pending between
them and Enerland. But their pro
gress at the timo referred to was de
layed, owinpr to tho circumstance
that one of their number, a favorite
a prirl'some fifteen years of age
had been taken ill on the march, and
was then delirious with fever.
The disease had baflled tho usual
skill of the few squaws of the band.
A consultation was held by the war
riors, to determine whether to re
main with tho girl, and await the
future of tho disease, orto.'lcavc her
at tho nearest settlement of whites,
in charge of one or two of their num
ber, (and then proceed on their
journey. The latter prosposition
was vehemently opposed by the sa
chem of tho band, the reputed father
of the girl. At this crisis, tho deep
baying of tho hounds around the en
campment fires betokened tho ap
proach of a stranger.
"It is our good brother,' tho young
white hunter," ejaculated Ulue
Coat, tho sachem, in broken Eng
lish, as a young man in hunting cos
tumo, and with a riflo in hand,
bounded into encampment.
A vigorous shaking of hands en
sued, aud grunts of satisfaction were
heard on every side
Waltar, or "Wally," as ho was
known by the Indians, was inform
ed of the subject under discussion;
and he was taken to the couch
of bear skins on which tho sufferer
lay. His heart felt pity; his deepest
sympathies wero instantly aroused,
lie had never before sccu tho faco
of an Indian femalo that interested
him so much.
"Night has overtaken nio in tho
chase, ten mile from home," 6aitl
Walter; "I will tarrvwith you till
early morn, when Fawn shall be
taken to my mother, who will care
for her as for her own child: and the
white mcdicino man shall kill her
disease. A few of your number
may remain with her until she is a
blo to resnmo her march."
Tho counsel was at an end. Grunts
of approval was the reply to Wal
ter's proposition, and ronewed shak
ing of hands followed. A bountiful
supper of roast venison and cakes
of pounded corn baked in hot ashes
was prepared, of which all save the
invalid ate heartily; aud, after a
lengthened smoking of pipes, the
partv, wrapped iu Indian blankets,
sought their night's repose.
Walter Wallace was of good pa
rentage, and well educated, llo was
left fatherless at an early age. Dr
Arnold.Uiis stepfather, though a man
of abilities, had but a small practice,
lie was not generally liked. His in
creasing wealth, therefore, was a
matter of surpriso to all, and suspi
cion to mauy ol his neighbors. The
matter was once bo boyishly, rafor
red to by Walter, in conversation
with his father, who answered on
ly by a scowl of resentment. Wal
ter at once comprehended that he
was treading on forbidden ground.
At length the overbearing dispo
sition and imperious will ot Dr. Ar
nold becamo insupportable to Wal
ter, and at tho age of ninsteon he
indignantly abandoned the parental
roof. The sting ot regret which
troubled him was the parting from
a dearly loved mother; and though
this was proposed agaiust her re
monstrance, yet he was concious of
her secret sympathies. Placing a
purse of live hundred dollars in his
hand, she kissed her manly-hearted
and darling boy for her last time.
To strengthen his health to cul
tivate and develop his physical sys
tem. Walter determined to devote
two years to adventure and wild
sports in the West. With this ob
ject in view, and with good sup
plies of arms, ammunition, and huu
tingt atire, he found himself in due
time in tho Genesee Valley at that
time abounding iu bear, the Ameri
can panther, tho wild 'cat, deer, and
lesser game, llo took up his abode
in the house of a settler on the banks
of tho Genesee. He wrote to his
mother by every possible convey
ance; but at the end of a year, learn
ing of her death, ho felt as if the
great tie of civilization had been
sundered; and for ever afterwards
he acknowledged the kind wile of
the settler as his adopted mother.
At tho time of his meeting with the
Indian encapment, ho had resided
in tho country two years, and dur
ing that timo had scoured tho coun
try around as far as tho shores of
Erie and Ontario. He had becomo
acquainted with tho Indians, their
langauge, costoms and manner ; and
was a favorite and privileged person
Under the influence of good treat
ment, tho health and strength of
Fawn was restored. Walter was
strangely fascinated with her beau
ty, and surprised at her intelligence,
ft he spoke the English aud Indian
languages fluently, aud had fre-
quentlyactcdas interpretei hot ween
parties of the two race. AV'aiter
could scarcelv believe that she was
of Indian blood; yet Mic tleelared
that 6he had no reason to t'aink oth
erwise, save that of a dim, iindefined
dream of an early life with"n civiliz
Her jet hair, her -black eyes,
though rather full and round lor an
Indian, her cheek bones anil bronz
ed complexion, seemed to denote an
Indiadjorigin; yet her elastic, spring
ing gait her intelligence, ler quick
perceptions, and the play of herfea
tures, which exhibited the various
emotions of the mind, indicated oth
erwise. Walter was puzzle he be
camo abstraced, save when in her
presence. Her rather winni ig way
and smile, her gentle nature and af
fectionate heart, pulled strongly
on his sensibilities. A vague desire
took possession of him to return to
civilization with the maiden, aud to
educate her to becomo his wife.
The sachem, between wh;.rn and
the girl there existed a strong at
tachment, remained with her. On
his departure with her and the few
attendants, he pressentcd Walter
with a belt of waininim to !: worn
by him as a badge of good fellow
ship with the Senecas, and at a to
ken of bravery.
A year passed away. uu a
foresight creditable to las years,
Walter hail purchaseu lor u small
sum three hundred acres of laud on
the shores of the Genesee river. II
was becoming weared with Lis wild
snort and pursuits, aud f-trenghtcn-
cd and invigorated, was about to rc
turn to the centers or civilization,
and embark in the business of life.
Uut an -irresistible desire to see
ain tho Indian maiden induced
him to change his purpose for a
while. Accordingly, depending on
his rilllc forsunnort, he ina-lc Li
wav through tangled wooda and
swamps, until at icugin, at iuo ciose
of a da v, weary ami footstore, he
found himself on the bank of Buffa
lo creek, and but a few miles south
of tho still smoking ruins of the vil
1'ltTA rf ltllfl'rlllV
While reposing himself at the foot
of a large tree, he was startled by
tho report of a rune; tne nest, mo
ment an American panther lay
dead at his 6ide. Starting to his
feet he gazed around 'twas but
for the moment a crackhug of the
bushes and "Welcome Wally!"
from the old sachem, greet. id his
Walter, fortnnatelv had como
upon the grounds and near the wig'
wain of his Indian irieud, and had
by him been saved from a terrible
conflict, if not death, as the beast
was at the point ot springing wneu
tne Duiiei pierceu ins ucari.
Great was the joy and satisfaction
, ll iT , L" I. -
of t awn, which she was too unso
phisticated to conceal on the -lrrival
oi waiter, xueausence iron mm
had been the means of manifesting
to herself her attachment to him.
Time, since their parting, htvl de
veloped inmate feelings which' con
vinced her that the Indian charac
ter was not in sympathy with; hers
and that Walter was her real hero.
She, therefore, in confident Blmpli
city. told Walter that a young In
dian, called Wild Cat, so named on
account of his more than usuiu fero
cious instincts, sought her hand in
marriage; that she despised him, and
that her father, the sachem, h id lor-
bado him the wigwam. And furth
ermore, that Walter's association
wth her would arouse his jealousy
and wrath, and Wild Cat would
urcly6cek his life. The belt ol
wampum, tie6ingcd as a.pass or saie
ty, would be tho mark i'or tho bul
let. Fawn a apprehension were well
founded. A deadly animosity was
soon'animosity by Wild Cat to
ward Walter. Yet Walter took no
pains to avoid him. His heroic na
ture spurned any betrayal of fear.
Several weoks elapsed when the two
abruptly met in the forest. Instant
ly, the Indian's gun was aimed at
Walter; it missed fire; and ere the
Indian could re-prime, lie vas in
tho tiger grasp of Walter, thrown,
disarmed, and bound.
A council of warriors was held,
and Wild Cat was condemned to
death by the Laud of Walter. But
at his intercession, the sentence was
commuted to running tho gauntlet
a punishment of the deepest dis
grace, and equivalent with us, to
being drummed outwi tne regiment.
The punishment was immediately
carried into effect. On the banks
of tho creek, near its mouth and
unction with Lake Lrie, two rows
of men and squaws facing each out
numbering several hundred,
werejformed. As Wild Cat passed
down between them, as he was o
bligcd to do to save instant death,
each person' as ho or she felt, dis
posed, gave him a cuff, a blow, or a
kick. Then, running swiftly to his
canoe, ho darted across the foot of
tho lake to tho opposite side, six
On the Canada side, near where
Wild Cat'lauded, the remnants of the
Pawnuck" tribe of Indians were set
tled. Though their dialect: was
similar to that of the Seneca?, yet
thev possessed tho least intelligence,
and were the most borbarous of any
tribe on the frontier. To this tribe,
Wild Z Cat immediately b ait died
himself, and related to them a glow
ingly false account of his wrongs
A short time subsequent to lid
Cat's punishment, the old sachem
was taken .seriously ill, which de
layed Walter's return to the et-st, as
he' had intended. All of Walter's
eutreatise and persuasions touiduce
tho old chief to allow him to place
Fawn within tho pale of civilization
wero unavailing. Only death
should separate the warrior and his
As Walter was attending the
couch of the sick chief one evening,
during the temporary absence of
Fawn, a band of six Indians, headed
by Wild Cat, suddenly burst into
the room, Walter was quickly
bound, aud, beforethe alarm could
be given, he was thrust into the
bottom of a canoe; and the party,
with swift moving paddles, made
their way rapidly and safely ucross
the foot of the lake.
Great was the exultation of Wild
Cat over the capture of his hated ri
val, who, when tho party lauded,
was unbound; and while his enemy
flourished a tomahawk around, and
iu close proximity to his head, he
was taunted with jeers, jibes, and
derisive laughter by the pa:ty.
Walter was too well acquainted with
tho Indian nature to offer any re
monstrance, lie maintained in his
looks a stolid inditlerence to their
proceedings. Wild Cat would have
cleaved his skull on the spot, but
his savage companions desired to
share together the pleasure of tor
nientinsr him to death.
It was determined that the ictim
should be burnt oil the eusuii.g af
ternoon. An opening, or cleared
spot in the woods, near the thore,
of several hundred feet in diameter,
was fixed upon as the place of execu
tion. In the center of the opening
stood an enormous tree. To this
tree Walter was bound, and fi ggots
of pitch pince were placed hi h a
roundhim. The torture cornuenc
ed by throwing the hatchet. This
was "done iu a manner similar to
that of impaling by the Chinese
the object of the savages being to
leave the hatchet sticking by the
blade into the tree as near tho head
of the victim as possible. Having
practiced this sport, with s-houts
of laughter, to their satisfaction,
they prepared for the death.
After joining hands, with
whoops and yells, they danced the
death dance; after which, sitting in
a semicircle a few rods from thj iree,
in front of the victim, they united
iu tho guttural death song. This
being'ended, one of the party arose,
and with blazing torch advanced to
fire tho pitch.
While he was stooping forward
for the purpose, aud while Walter
was ejaculating a prayer, the nharp
crack of a rifle was heard, and the
savage fell dead upon and extin
guished tlie torcli, With howls the
savages sprang to their feet; each
expected to drop next;a hasty glance
.it the ambush, and panic stricken
they tied prccipitacly up the beach.
"Thank heaven, my aim was
true!" exclaimed Fawn, as she cut
the bonds of Walter. "We are a
lone follow me quick quick!"
They hastily ran to the lake &hore,
jumped into a canoe, and shot out
into deep water. Fawn quickly re
loaded the rific, and placed it on the
lioor of the canoe; but ere long, as
both were making vigorous use
of their paddles, they discovered a
canoe coming in a direction to inter
cept their progress. It contained
but one person Wild Cat.
He had caught sight of Walter
and Fawn, as they pushed out into
the lake; having recovered from the
shock of surpri-e, aud frenzied by
t he escapes of Walter by the hands of
Fawn, he was determined to over
take and destroy both, or perish in
On flew the canoes with the speed
ot arrows. Wild Cat had the ad
vantage in lightness of canoe and
that dexterity in the use of the pad
dle which only great strength, unit
ed with long practice, could impart.
The course of Fawn's canoe to the
American side was across the migh
ty volume of the water of Frie, just
where it enteres tho mouth, and
forms the majestic Niagara liiver.
In the center of the course tho cur
rent runs at the rate of seven miles
an hour, and increases in rapidity
in its descent, until twenty miles
below the waters leap the world
Wild Cat's canoe gained rapidly
on the pursued, and had reached
within a few rods of the latter, just
beyond the greatest strength of the
current, when the savage suddenly
stood erect, and had just poised the
unerring hacthet, when a bullet
pieced his heart. lie reeled and fell
backwards aud lengthways into
his canoe; it swuDg round, was
quickly drawn into the current, shot
down the river, aud was engulfed
beneath the cataract.
Joy and satisfaction sparkled in
the eyes of Walter and Fawn, as they
pursued the rest of their voyage.
Grunts of satisfaction were heard,
and nods of approval were seen iu
every wigwam at the safety of Wal
ter und Fawn, and the deatli of
The death of Blue Coat, the old
sachem, was at hand, lie called
Walter to the side of his couch.
"1 am going, said the sachem, in
a feeble voice, "to the spirit-laud.
and soon shall be on the happy hunt
ing grounds. 1 roinisc me that you
will take Fawn to be your wife, and
l die content. &ue is ot your own
race; not a drop ot Indian blood
flows in her veins. My wigwam
was once on the shores of Lake
Champlain, and near an old settle
ment of whites. Her parents were
my friends, and frequently were in
my wigwam with the child. I lov
ed the little creature, and called her
Fawn. Before she was four years
old, her parents died; and, one day,
a man came to my wigwam, leading
Fawn. He gave "her to me; she had
no other home. He also gave me
live hundred dollars in silver; I have
never used them they are here. In
a little box of clothing for the child,
was a picture of a man and woman
her parents; it is iu this packet-
The old man could say no more.
What was Walter's astonishment.
on examining the picture, after the
burial ot the sachem, to find inscrib
ed on the back the name of "John
aud Alary Arnold."
r awn was a niece of his stepfather!
He had now the first clue to the
sudden wealth of Dr. Arnold.
Securing attendants, Walter, with
Fawn, immediately set out for Al
ton, wht re they arrived m duo time.
and without trouble. Procuringthe
services of an experienced and ex
pert attorney, an investigation was
commenced; and by a course of for
tunate and fortuitous circumstances,
it was ascertained that John Ar
nold had left, though without writ
ten will, twenty-five thousand dol
lars to his only child, Mary (Fawn).
Ho had, in confidence, placed this
money before his death, in the hands
of his brother, Dr. Arnold, and re
quested him to act as her guardian.
On iJr. Arnold s return irom tho
place of the death of his brother.
some two hundred miles distant, he
reported tho death of the child to
the very lew that had known of her
With proofs in their prossossion,
Walter and his attorney sought a
private interview with Dr. Arnold.
They found him far gone in con
sumption, and broken in siprits, but
apparently, contrite and repentant.
He acknowledged the enormity of
the offence, but wished tho matter
to be kept a secret, and expressed
rcat relief ol mind that Mary had
been found and restored. By mu
tual agreement, and bv his desire.
he at once signed deeds in her favor
to the amount of fifty thousand dol
lars being the one-half of his estate.
Alary entered a female seminary,
where she remianed three years ; at
the end of which tiine4 cultivated
in mind and manners, aud the age of
twenty, she was unitediii marriage
with Walter Wallace.
Ten years supseouentlv, Walter
visited his estate of tho Genesee ri
ver, lie was astonished and delight
ed with the improvements of the
surrounding country. The "wil
derness had indeed blossomed as the
rose." Tho Genesee valley had be
come thegarden of tho empire State,
lie improved his grounds, and erect
ed an elegant mauson, iu which he
has since resided, happy in domes
tic relations, and in good fellowship
with all. Aud now, though bronz
ed with years, the hospitalities of
Walter and Fawn are cheerfully ex
I think old women I don't ouite
like the word " lady." because it
does not mean anything nowadays
are the most beautiful and lovable
things in tho world. They are so
near Heaven that they catch the
glow and brightness which radiate
from the pearly gate and illuminate
their faces. When the hair begins
to silver, and the embers in the fire
grow cold, and the sun has got so far
around iu life's horizon that the
present makes no shadow, while the
at stretches down the hillside to a
ittle mound of earth where we will
rest for a season a little mound not
big enough to hold our corner lots,
and marble fronts and safes, which
we shall have to leave on the other
side of the hill, but big enough, I
trust, to hold our memories and
fancies, our air castles and secrets;
and when the journey is nearly
done, and the night is setting in, and
the darkness begins to gather around
us without any stars, and the birds
sing low iu the trees, and the flow
ers wither and die, and the music
we hear comes from afar, strangely
sweet, like sounds coming over the
water, and like little children we
live withyi ourselves, and the world
gradually recedes from us then I
should like to be an old woman, full
of blessed memories and peaceful
An ingenious author asserts that
the length of a man's life may be esti
mated by the number of pulsations
he has the strength to perform. Thus
allowing seventy for the common age
ol'iuau and sixty pulses in a minute
for the common measure of pulses in
a temperate person, the number of
pulsations iu his whole life would
amount to 1'.,,'.,u7,.VJ0,(a(.i; but if, by
intemperance, he forces his blood in
to a more rapid motion, so as to give
seventy-five pulses in a miuute, the
same 'number of pulses would be
completed in litty-six years; conse
quently his life would be reduced
Anger is the most impotent pas
sion that accompanies the mind of
man. It effects nothing it goes
about, and hurts the man who is
possessed by it more than any
against whom it ia directed.
From Applcton's Journal, ilay 14.
Come not with empty words that say,
"Your strength of manhood wates away
In lou, ignoble, fruitless years!"
I live apart from pain and tears,
Wherewith the ways of men are sown
Nor dwell I loveless and alone;
One tender spirit shares my days,
One voice is swift to yield me praise,
One true heart lcats against my own!
What more, what more could man desire
Than Love that bums a steadfast fire.
And Faith, that ever leads him higher
Along the paths which point to peace?
Oh, far and faint 1 hear tbe din
Ol battle-blows and mortal sin
from out tha stir and press of life;
Those hollow, muffled sounds of strife
Seem rolled from thunder-clouds uncurled
About a dim and distant world,
Below me, in the sunless gloom;
But round my brow the amaranths bloom
Of sober joy with heart's-ease furled;
For more, what more caa man desire
Than Love, that burns a steadfast fire,
And Faith, which ever leads him higher,
Where all the jars ol earth shall ctasc?
A present g!ry haunts my way,
A promise cf diviner day
Illumes the flushed horizon verge;
And fainter, farther still the surge
Of buffeting waves that beat and roar
Up the dim world's tempestuon- shore
Beneath me In the moonless alro;
Alas, its passions, sorrows, cares!
Alas, its fathomless despairs!
Y'et dreams, vague dreams they seem to me,
On these clear heights of liberty,
These summits of serene desire
Whence Love ascends, a quenchless tire.
And sweet Faith ever leads me higher
To pearly paths ot pert act peace!
A CASK OI CONSCIENCE.
It was the hardest of hard times
via wen-established houses were
failing all around. No wonder that
tho smaller concerns were fairly
swallowed up in the crashes going
ok 5n the business world. No won
der that Harry Tyndall, a young city
merchant, sat in his office gazing
with despairing eyes at the 6pectre
ruin which stared at him from no
great distance. He had weathered
the storms or three Drier years he
had soon hoped to weather this, but
the loss of a thousand pounds held
by a friend deprived him or the
means of making a payment due in
three days, and he felt that all was
indeed lost, for his efforts to nego
tiate a loan in the present state of
the money market nad been worse
The prospect before him was not
a cheerful one. It is rather hard to
begin life over again at thirty, espe
cially when one has reached that age
after years of poverty, toil and self
exertion. In his younger days, Har
ry Tyndall had known ant in its
crudest, most savage form ; he had
battled its grim legions and risen to
independence ; and now, at the
threshold of a higher life, he was
hurled back, with just a glimpse of
the enchanted grouuda within.
As he sat confronting the heap of
papers on his desk, the office door
opened and a lady entered. Mechan
ically Harry rose and placed a chair ;
but as tho lady threw back her vail,
he exclaimed in surprise: ''Miss
" Pardon my intruiion, Mr. Tyn
dall," said the most musical of
voices. " I have been on tho upper
floor looking for the office of Graves
& Waldron, and was told they were
on this floor. I wish to give Mr.
Waldron this package. May I ask
you to deliver ltf i win remain
here. Of all things I dislike to lose
myself in these dark passages hunt
ing for offices."
Harry took the package with alac
rity was gone but a moment, aud
on his return found Miss Berwick
standing by the window idly looking
down the street. She turned at his
entrance, thanked him with a smile
and a bow, and then took her bright
presence out of the room, and iiarrj
was left to his meditations.
" I may just as well give it up. I
have not a friend who could help me
in this strait," ho uttered after half
an hour's deep thought. "I will
make an assignment or go into bank
ruptcy, and then depart ror Ameri
ca, where toil is better requited."
And as he spoke he rose to his
feet, his eyes falling on the floor.
He was vaguely conscious of some
dark ob!ect at his feet, 6tooped care
lessly to lift it, and 6aw that it was
a pocket-book leather, and rather
the worso ior wear, dut. was very
plethoric, llo sat down again and
opened it. There were various com
partments, but all of them empty
save enc. That one contained just
ten one-hundred-pound notes.
Just the sum that would save him
from ruin. If it were his he could
pay that bill falling due, sell off his
stock, and seek a situation until the
panic was past !
tie looneu me pocsei-oooK over
again, xhere was no ciue to the
owner, yet he felt convinced that it
mast of course belong to uiara uer
wick. She was the only person who
bad been in his office that morning.
It was a terrible temptation to Har
ry, liau nia visitor oeen any outer
than Clara Berwick it is hara to say
whether conscience or inclination
would have prevailed: as it was,
conscience won the day, and he
started out after Miss Berwick.
She was net to bo found, however;
and Harry concluded she had gone
home. So thither he bent his steps.
Clara was an heiress and something
of a belle, too. She was not classic
ally beautiful, but sho was young,
and had a good figure, clear com
plexion, frank grey eyes, and very
abundant hair; all of which good
points she made the most of, as every
daughter of Eve is bound to do.
Sh came down in response to Har
ry's double knock, and looked quite
surprised, though she endeavored to
When Harry showed her the pock
et-book she looked at it attentively,
and laughed a merry peal of laugh
ter. " Why, Mr. Tyndall," she cried,
you must think I have poor taste,
to own such a purse as that. See,
that is my pocket-book ; " and she
drew out a dainty purple velvet
purse, to which was appended a gold
" But no one has been to my office
to-day save you."
"Indeed I ine pocKei-uooK is
certainly not mine," she responded
" W hat snail i uo witn it z " saia
Harrv, in perplexity.
" Why keep it. of course," re
sponded Miss Berwick, with a bright
smile ; and she seated herself upon
the sofa and began a discourse on
She and Harry had often met in
society, but he had never called up
on her before, aud when he rose
from his chair to go, she said :
Really. Mr. Tyndall, I ought to be
grateful to the owner of that pock-
et-DOOs, since it gaiueu me me
pleasure of a call. May 1 tope that
you will repeat it some time when
you have no stray articles to dispose
Harry blushed, murmured some
thing about the pleasure all being
on his side, and hurried away.
"Oh dear," he said to himself,
"she actually believes that I trumped
up that story of the pocket-book for
an excuse to call on her. Wealth
privileges her to be impertinent.
But oh, if I only dared to use it !
And just the amount, too! But I
must advertise it."
Harry Tyndall did not advertise
the lost pocket-book, and when,
three days later, his bill fell due, he
paid it, and was a free man.
It is not necessary to recount the
successive steps in temptation w
finally led to the first dishonest act
of a hitherto spotless life. How the
pocket-book came there ho could;
uot even guess. But it was there;'
it just supplied bis necdi, he appro
AUGUST 12, 1871.
priated it, and was henceforth
branded a thief in his own ev es
those months of financial embar
rassment that followed were safely
tided over, aud then he devoted
himself to his business with a mel
ancholy desperation bom cf con
scious guilt. He went little into so
cjety, aud especially did he avoid
uiara Berwick', who, with a per
versity oi mocking mischicr, tor
tured him with allusions to the lost
pocdet-book whenever sho chanced
to meet him. She was thoroughly
good uatured about it, so utterly
careless and trifling that he could not
accuse her of malice; yet hiH own
conscience was his sharpest accuser;
he imagined knowledge of his guilt,
when in reality there was none.
He did not conceal from himself
that the desire to remain in Miss
Berwick's sphere was the principal
cause of his rash act ; yet, now that
he was still where he could meet
her, he shrunk from making an
avowal of his feelings he dared not
approach her with his love. So he
argued to himself, thinking he was
strong enough to withstand the
temptation, although he knew he
had yielded to a lesser one.
But, diguise the fact as wo mav.
we are all creatures of circumstance.
c say, " I will not do 60," aud lo !
in a mouth or year we have done
those very things, audit has become
a matter of course that we should
have done so. Kven as, in spite of
himself, Harry Tyndall had appro
priated what was not his, also, in
spite of his wilL. h3 was at last
thrown into just such circumstances
as forced from his lips a declaration
of love to Clara, though he doubted
as he made it.
Clara arched her brows a mo
ment in pretended surprise (as if
6he had not known his struggles all
along), then her old merry, mocking
smile flashed over her face, aud
some bantering words rose to her
lips ; but they were unspoken ; for
there was earnestness enough, and
enough of passion and pain iu his
face to subdue even her. He scarce
ly knew what she said ; but he went
away feeling as if his head woidd
6trike the stars, because Clara lovd
and would marry him; but as he
walked along he thought of the
pocket-book, and his ecstacy died
away. Why should he, a common
thief, rejoice because uuder false
colors he had won a good woman's
heart? But he must play the ac
cepted lover, and ho did 6o, forget
ting when with her, his own uu
worthiness. Sometimes he thought
to tell her all; again, he shra;ik
from her scorn and the loss of her
But one day when they wero to
gether, after a short silence between
them, Clara said suddenly, " Harry,
did you ever find ou whoso purse
that was you iounu in your omce r '
lie turned pale as death, was his
sin about to find him out at last ?
"No," he said, huskily.
" Was there no clue nothing to
indicate who was the owner ? "
"None at all."
" Have vou it yet, Harry ? Well,
I should like to see it. Will you go
and get it ? "
" I have it here," he said.
Like many criminals, ho had never
parted wiih the witness of his crime.
Clara tooK it in tier nands.
"Now, Harry," said she, " I have
a confession to make. 1 don't mind
telling you that I foil in love with
you at first sight ; and that when I
learned from my lawyer that you
were on the verge of ruin, and that
so small a sum of money would save
rou, i was grieved ior your suner-
ngs but rejoiced to think I
Here she opened the purse, slipped
the penknife between the two com
partments, drew out a folded paper,
which Siie handed to Harry, who
read it :
Use this money to take up that
outstanding debt. A Fbiknd."
Ho looked at her smiling face and
light broke in upon him.
' So it was your purse, after all e "
XTy llnttir i iiroa rt v r mi ien
.l J y UlU A J f At llVIl MM.AJ 'Ml OV
I found the old thing in the garret;
but it was my money. Tell me, did
it save you ? "
"Yes; oh, yes! And all these
years I have borne about a needless
burden, ana morning, noon aud
night called myself a thief, and
dared not tell you- of my love be
cause of it. Ah, what have I not
" And I am the cause of it all,"
cried Clara, throwing her arms
around his neck, with a burst of
tears, " Can you forgive me ? "
"Forgive you?" said Harry
fondly, " I would go through twice
as much to save you a single pang!
And, at last, I can hold up my head
among them with a clear con
"Of course you can. Don't you
remember I told you at the time to
use it ? Yon might have known it
was all right?"
' Yes, I might, but I did not. It
would have saved me much sorrow
f I had. However, I do not regret
Love. Never be ashamed of ever
having loved any one. If perchauce
you have hated, then blush for it,
but not for love. It does not matter
at all whether the person on whom
your affections fixed themselves re
ciprocated the sentiment. Where
there is no shame in loving, in itself,
the fact of having given love with
out reward can bring none wiih it.
You have only bestowed a gift more
priceless than any jewel can be upon
one who did not thank you. Since
there is sorrow to one's self m it, it
is best to struggle with the heart,
and keep it until it is asked for ; bat
if it goes irrevocably forth, despite
all effort, no need to feel like a gudty
thing, and long to hide irom your
very self, rrovidence gave you
that great love, and I believe that
somehow it will mingle with the
life of the one it hovers over, and
shed a perfume and lend a sweetness
to it, though it has never been
Many a woman's me nassnriveieu
away under the weignt oi disap
pointed love, merely because her
shame in it was so great, i ne laise
sentiment that teaches her to scorn a
natural feeling has worn her beauty
away, robbed her of all hope iu the
presence of the future. I think it
would be better if eveu a woman
dared to sav, " I loved bim, but he
did not love me," with the same
sweet sadness with which, when
years have glided, she can utter the
words, " I loved him, and he died."
I remember, at Gettysburg, a cool
case of unadorned bravery. It was
at the extreme left of the line where
it rested on Little Hound Top, a
mass of up-piled boulders. Down
below, and not a hundred yards off',
was a rocky labyrinth called the
Devil's den, in which was the ene
my ; and in this situation there was
between the two forces a long and
bitter fight. Crawling up Little
Round Top from . the rear to see
what was going on, I found a
rough-looking patriot who had seat
ed himself ou a huge rocky ledge
that overhung the hill, with'his legs
dauglii g over, and his whole body
h view of a thousand sharpshooters.
Well, he would coolly load his rille,
bring down his man, and sav, in a
kind of grim sotto voice, " correct; "
and so again aud again, aud each
time he brought down his man there
was the queer refrain, "correct,"
"correct." Win. Stcinfon's Lec
ture. Most young men consider it a
great misfortune to be poor, or not
to have capital enough to establish
themselves at their outset in life, in
a good comfortable business. This
is a mistaken notion. So far from
poverty being a misfortune to them,
if we may judge from what we every
day behold, it is really a blessing ;
the chance is more than ten to one
against him who 6tarts with a fortune.
When should the
My husband said. "It is timpnr.w
thc honeymoon was over, and we be
gan real uie. I hese sentimentalities
will do aw hile, but cannot last."
And is it so? And must it be that
my happy dream is over, and shall I
be forced to see that it is indeed a
dream? I said yea, I felt it was
not so; I believe that in the grave
ony my "honeymoon" would go
down. Sho was too bright, too full,
too steady on the zenith ever to de
cline. 1 joyfully, wildly, passion
ately my husband says madly
gazed upon her, and in my trans
port I wanted nothing more thrj
world could give. Aly heart was
ever full, so full that it could not
but pour itself out in gladful song
all the day when duties prevented
its outpouring on the bosom where
I felt that it emptied itself into re
I know my husband loves me ; that
his heart is as surely mine as when
he called Heaven to witness the sa
cred vow. Then why call these
things unreal? It is said that we
must lay aside "such sentimentali
ties and turn to real life." Is a tale
of tedious prose more real than the
same in measured, musical rhythm?
Is a scene more true to life when pic
tured iu harsh, unattractive cuts
than iu a softly, finely shaped en
graving? Is bread less the staff of
life because served in a nicely sea
soned and shaped loaf ?
And is my life to be no longer wa
tered aud gladdened by the sweet
honey dew, except at intervals when
it may not appear sentimental ? Do
the trees refuse to receive it lest
they become dwarfed ? Do the flow
ers refuse to taste it lest their bloom
become unreal? Docs the crass re-
fase to drink it, fearing it may be
less nutritious? No Onol Nature
no more refuses the honey dew than
the hard, stern, blighting frost. The
one is as real as the other, and na
ture rejoices and gladdens, and pro
duces iu tho influence of the one
whila she drinks from aud shelter-
eth herself against tho other. The
heart is a tender thing. Is the day
more real when the suu is obscured ?
Ah, is it not indeed day when his
warm, glad, genial rays pour aud
continue to pour down t Why
should married life be shaded by
this setting of her light? Ah, it is
real though slow death when love
of tho expression of it begins to de
"John Anderson, mv Jo." proves
that Horns, at least, believed iu an
old honeymoon. Caledonia.
A moment f Emotion.
The Vourrier tie San Frattci$co of
the loth, lias a thrilling article, en
titled as above, in which it is stated
that Mrs. Turner, while visiting in
the neighborhood of Russian river
last week, encountered an enormous
panther in the middle of the road,
tbe animal coming directly toward
her. Mrs. Turner 6toioedousoein!?
the beast, but tho panther continu
ing to advance, she fled, raising her
voice to a pitch that would have
done honor to a prima donna of the
grand opera. Happily for the lady,
:icr cries wero heard by some butch
ers, who went to her assistance.
The panther seeing an extra force in
tbe held, weutupa tree, but sooa
came down by an application of gun
powder. The animal, by measure
ment, proves to be the largest of the
kind ever killed in the country.
Tub Wife. If you wish to be
5 happy and have peace in the family,
! never reprove your husband in
company, even if that reproof be cv-
ci tu nguL, at no uv irnuueu upcus.
not an angry word. Indifference
sometimes will produce unhappy
consequences. Always feel an in
terest in what your husband under
takes ; and if he is perplexed or dis
couraged, assist him by your smiles
and happy words. If the wife is
careful how she conducts, speaks,
aud looks, a thousand happy hearths
would cheer and brighten her ex
istence, where now there is .nothing
but clouds of gloom, sorrow and dis
content. The wife, above all others,
should strive to please her husband
and to make homo attractive.
"Too Relici iocs." Too relig
ious, iu the proper sense of the word,
we cannot be. We cannot have the
religious sentiments and principles
too strong, or too deeply fixed, if
only they have a right object. We
cannot love God too warmly, or
honor Him too highly, or strive to
servo Him too earnestly, or trust
Him too implicitly; because it is our
duty to love Hiin "with all our
hearts, and all our soul, and all our
mind, and all our strength."
But too, religious, in another sense,
we may, and arc very apt to be; that
is, we are very apt to make for our
selves too many objects of religious
Now Almighty God has revealed
Himself as the proper object of re
ligion as the one only Power on
whom we are to feel ourselves con
tinually dependent for all things,
aud the one only Being whose favor
we are continually to seek. And
lest we should complain that an In
finite Being is an object too remote
aud incomprehensible for our minds
to dwell upon, He has manifested
Himself iu His Son, the man Jesus
Christ, whose history and character
are largely described to us in the
Gospels; so that to love, fear, houor
aud serve Jesus Christ, is to love,
fear, houor, and serve Almighty
God, Jesus Christ being "one with
the Father," and "all the fulness of
the Godhead" dwelling iu Him.
Root them Oct. From my wiu
dow I have many times watched,
with intense interest, the untiring
efforts of a gardner, to rid his gar
den of a little . vine, which, if per
mitted to grow, choked out all the
good sown there. From time to
time he used many means, but to no
effect, until he commenced to root
them out upon their lirst appear
ance. Just so it is with our hearts; we
receive good impressions, and in
tears resolve to be made better by
them, but we are defeated and driv
en back with our own sword, for the
little sins we have almost unconsci
ously allowed to remain there,
spring up and choke out all the good,
leaving naught but fear and self
distrust, aud in our confusiou we
often resort to many means where
by we may overrome, but to no pur
pose. Oh! how wise it would be to learu
alessou from the judicious garden
er, remembering that the ouly safe
way to rid ourselves of besetting
sins, is to root them out from our
hearts, for to retaiu is but to cher
ish, and "he who would be wise,
mut be wise for himself."
Moral Ixflvence. The influ
ence of example is far-reaching; for
our experience and conflicts with
the world lead us at times to indulge
miaauthropic sentiments, and charge
all men with selfish and impure mo
tives. The plav of pride, prejudice,
and passion and the eagerness, man
ifested by the great majority of men
to advance their own interests, often
at the expense of others, and in vio
lation of the golden rule, cause us
to look with suspicion on the best
intents of others. Arrogance, hy
pocrisy, treachery, and violence,
every day outrage justice, till we
arc almost disponed to distrust hu
man nature, and become discour
aged. But amid all that is disheart
ening in this busy, noisy world, uqw
and then there is presented to us a
life of such uniform virtue, that we
recognize in it a character that brings
hope for the perfect development
and ultimate regeneration of our
race. Such characters are precious,
and such examples shou'd bo held
up to the world for its admiration
and imitation; they should be
snatched from oblivion; and treas
ured iu tho hearts and thoughts of
aM to aid iu the process of formin"
habits and maturing character.
BY W. A. POLLOCK.
I could not Veep my secret
A ny longer to myself;
I wrote it in a song book
And placed it on the shell;
It lay there many an idle day,
Twas covered soon with dust;
I gt aved it on my sword blade,
Twas eaten by tbe rust,
I told it to the zephyr then,
He breathed it through the morning;
The light leaves rustled in the breeze.
My fond romances scorning,
I took it to the running brook,
With many a lover's notion,
The gay waves laughed it down the stream.
And Sung it in the ocean;
I told it to the raven sage,
lie croaked it to tbe starling.
I told it to the nightingale.
She sang it to my darling.
BY KCCY MORTIMER.
It was almost dark, when a car
riage drove up a long shady avenue
and stopped iu front of a beautiful
gothic cottage that was almost em
bowered in vines and flowers.
"And is this home?" asked a mer
ry voice, while a bright "face pecied
out of the carriage window.
"i es. this is home." said a tall.
manly fellow, kissing the unturned
face, "aud you are verv welcome."
A stately Old lady that stood In
the doorway came down to greet
'IThis is my wife, mother," said
the gentleman, as he assisted the
little Jlady to alight, "and I trnst
you will love her dearly."
She took her in her arms in a good,
motherly fashion, and impriuted a
kiss on her soft cheek, aud then
said, "I know that I 6haII love you
as dearly as if you were my own,
and I hope that not one cloud may
dim your future love. Come, let us
go in; you both look tired."
"Have you uccn waiting supper.
mother?" asked Arthur Trenton.
"Yes, this half hour."
"I am sorry, but I met Tom Ford
aud hiswife at the depot, and it was
as if we never would get away from
1 hem; but come, let s have supper,
for I am dreadful hungry. There,
don't laugh, Lillian; you don't know
me of old, as mother docs. I was
always a hungry little boy, and I
guess I have not improved much
since 1 have grown up; but 1 tell
you such a journey as we have had
sharpens a fellow's appetite wonder
fully. I knew yon will agree with
me there, Lillian."
"Well. Lillian," said Arthur Tren
ton, the next morning after break
fast, "as you are mistress here hence
forth, wouldn't you like to look ov
er vour domain?"
"Oh, certainly; l couldn t rest
contented here another hour with
out knowing what that house con
tained." "What a great bump of cariosity
you mu6t have," said he, laughing.
"Oh, yes; and if the theory you
men preach is true, we all have
them so you cannot laugh at mo
"I do not care what their theories
are; but as tor mine, I say they are
all that is good and true, if they are
"There, don't praise me; you do
not know what a naughty girl I may
im. liiii come auu enow uie ine li
brary." Lach room and its furniture was
inspected and criticised, and pro
nounced perfect from garret to
"Oh, I shall bo so happy here!
said she as they walked out - arm
and arm on the verandah; "nothing
can ever trouble me in such an Eden
"I am clad vou like it. for I an.
lAta,l svosvikinff with n-ront -n
suiting your tahto as nearly as I
"And I could not have suited my
self half so well. How can I thank
you for it?"
"How can you thank me? What
a question, you silly child! Why.l
think I have had my thanks already
in seeing how happy it has made
you. Good gracious! how late it
ih," said he, opening his watch.
"Indeed I must go. There, don't
look so sad, Pet. 1 hate to leave
you, but you know I must uot neg
lect my business if I would be some
thing more than a confidential clerk
some day. You won't be lonely,
an mother is with you, aud undoubt
edly you will have cuite a number
of collars to-day. Give me a kiss.
There! Good-bye, little one." i
She watched him until ho drove
out of sight, then felt as if she
could have taken a good cry. "But
I am not going to do it," nald the,
her face brightening. "I have been
a child long enough; now I am go
ing to be a woman."
"Crying, Lillian?" asked Airs.
Trenton, coming out at the door.
"Pretty nearly, mother; but you
must think me very silly."
"Not at all, for I was just like you
when I was first maaricd. Come.
let us go and look at the flowers. Is
not that rose beautiful? It is Ar
thor'efavorite, I believe."
thus skillfully did Mrs. Trenton
draw her attention until she had
gained her wonted cheerfulness;
then sent her to her room to dress.
"Well, Lillian, and how have vou
passed tho day?" asked Arthur
Trenton that night, as his wife ran
down the steps to him.
'l can hardly tell, so many have
been here; and, Arthur, I know
those Gaylords think I am a little
ignoramus; Miss Agatha particular
ly." JSow, little one, for once vou are
mistaken, i met miss Agatha just
as I was leaving tho city, aud she
declared I had one of the sweetest
little women for a wife that she ev
er met, and that I really deserved
praise for the choice I had made.
Now you kuow she is one of those
vinegar faced old maids who always
say just what they think, 60 we can
depend on that compliment &a a sin
"I am glad for you sake that they
like ine, for I want you to be proud
i eiiouiu oc mat even if no one
nrcnaftfl vrtu f simn nl.u r-..... n
1 ' JV . WAUV, DUlllU
thing," said he, euteriug the parlor
auu ujKjning piano.
"What shall I play?"
"Aly favorite, Auld Robin
Lillian had an excellent voice and
played well, and when the last sad,
tender words died softly away. Au-
thur said, "I am a selfish wretch to
bury yon in this place, when you
have a voice like that. Why. vou
would make a fortune ou the stage."
"How cruel iu you to say that,
wncn you Know i only care to sing
"I did notmean to bo cruel, Lil
lian; I only meant that it looked sel
fish in me to keep you here where no
ouo wouiu nave tne cnance of ap
prec aungyour voice out myseir."
"Aud is that not enough?" said
she, smiling through her tears.
"I tell you, Lillian," 6aid he bend
ing over her and softly stroking the
glossy brown hair, "I am ready to
re-echo Miss Agatha's sentiments iu
regard to my choice."
"And may you, my husband,"
said she, looking up fondly into his
face, "never have cause to retract
them by word or deed of mine."
"I have no fear that I shall Lillian.
We may both do wrong, for we
are but ioor, weak, erring mortals
at best, but our aim shall be to make
each other truer and better; and
with such a purpose in view, the
love that blinds us to-day will but
grow purer and holier as we grow
old, and I know full well as long as
that exists you can never change to
"Ah! Arthur, if men were only
all good and kind like you, how
much trouble would be spared us
poor women, for a loving word
lighteus a woman's burden wonder
fully." "Now who is flattering?" said he
playfully. "You don't know what
a tyrant I may be."
"It doesn't matter much if you
are, for ust now I believe I would
rather like to be tyranized over in
" Take care, you may regret that."
"Oh, I am not afraid that I
" Do you think you can get along
without me now, Lillian?" asked
Mrs. Trenton one day, alter she had
been with them three or four weeks
" Oh, certainly, mother ; but why
can't you stay all summer with us V
" That would be impossible ; you
know I have a family of my own.
But I have a word to say in regard
to Catherine. There is not much
but what she can do, but she has a
very high temper, and it will be
best not to show her that you fear
her. If you do she will show you
that she will be her mistress there
after ; and perhaps it would bo best
to watch her a little, for I don't
qnite like the looks of soma of her
friends 6he brings here.
" But, mother, hc frowni when
ever i even go into the kitchen."
"Well, show hrr too intend to
rule, and I don't think yon will have
Sirs. Trenton weit home. Cath
erine was left to herself, and every
thing went on smoothly for a while.
" Lillian," said Arthur, one morn
ing, "I wish you would please tell
Catherine not to have supper until
eight, as I cannot be home aa early
as usual to-night,"
Lillian quaked inwardly, but late
in the afternoon went to obey Ar
" Catherine," said she, putting her
head timidly in the kitchen door,
" Arthur said please not to have sup
per until eight, as he cannot be home
"And is it tho likes of ye tobeor
derin' me about? Faith, 1 knows
me own business."
" But I thought I would tell you,
Cathcriue, so your supper would not
be spoiled by waiting."
"And do von s'pose 111 do it?
No, indade ; 1'se going out with me
" Yerv well, Catherine, you will
do as I say or leavo the house."
"And leave I will, and ye can git
supper and do the irouiug." Aud
having said this she threw down the
iron and left the room.
" I do believe she Is going to
leave," thought Lillian. Yes, sure
enough, for hero she came with bon
net and shawl on, and marched out
coldly past her.
" Well, I guess the ouly thing that
can be done," said Lillian, gazing .
vnnfiitlir at llm liAfclrpt lit utiironetl
I clothes, " will be to do it myself. I
declare these blurts arc not even
starched, and Arthur will want one
in tho morning. But how in the
world do they make starch. I'll
pour a little boiling water on some,
anv how. Dear, dear I that will nev
er'do, it is all iu lumps. I'll try
again. Oh, it is just like it was be
fore. Well, I won't waste any more
time with it." said she, tossing tho
shirt in the basket, " for I can iron
tho rest. Timo to get supper," said
she, glancing up at tho clock. " I
guess I will make biscuits, as Ar
thur is very fond of them, and fry
tho fish he seut here this morning."
Alter consulting tho cook-book
for a long time, the biscuits were
made aud placed iu the oven. Then
she put on the fish. First, the fire
was too hot, and they burnt fast to
the skillet ; then it was not hot
enough, aud after a half hour of
fruitless endeavor to make the fire
burn, she found tho fish in about tbo
same condition as when she first
placed them there. " It is no use ;
I can't fry them," said she, jerking
them off the 6tove; 'Arthur will
have to be content with cold meat
aud biscuits. Oh. by tho way, I
guess they must bo done by this
time," and a vision of light snowy
biscuits floated before her eye. They
are well browned, it is true, but, oh,
my I as flat as when she made them.
" This is the result of my boarding-school
training," said she; sit
ting down on the floor with a hope
less look on her face ; " I just can't
do one thing properly. Oh, dear!
what will he think of me?" And
having arrived at this point, she
laid her face in her hands aud cried
like a very child.
Arthur wondered what had come
over tho houso that night. Tho
doors were all shut, no lights wero
lit, and everything was as still as a
mouse. " Where can they all be,"
said he, entering the hall ; and lie
searched first ono room and then
V Why, Lillian, what is the mat
ter?" said he, as he caught a
glimpse of a blue dress in the kitch
en. " Oh, Arthur," said she, springing
up and throwing her arms around
his neck, " I am ao glad you have
come, for I have had such a time 1 "
" Why, what have you done ? "
"I havn't done anything, but I
havobecua trying to, but I can't
cook, I can't bake In short, I can't
" W'here is Catherine t I thought
that was her work," said he, rather
severely, looking at tho tear-stained
" Why, I told her not to get "up
per until eight, and 6hc said she
knew her own business, and would
uot do it. Your mother told me not
to give up to her, so I told her she
must do as I said, or leave the house.
So she left, and I tried to get supper
myself, but 1 didn't succeed, as you
"Don't. Luliau," said he gently.
as sho began to cry again. You
must try aud learn to control your
"But I kuow you will be ashamed
of me, now thst you have learned
how ignorant I am."
" No. Lillian ; I am proud of you
still. The fault is uot yours, it is
your education. 1 am quite sure
you would have learned all these
things if you had had a chance. But
come, let us see what kind of a sup
per we can get together."
The next morning Catherine ap
peared, saying she was only in fun
the day before, and wanted to take
her old place, but Lillian would not
hear of it, and Catherine packed up
her things and left in a fury.
Lillian did the best she could un
til she got another girl, then spent
a portion of each day in the kitchen,
until she knew something about
" You don't kuow what trouble
it i9," said she, one day when Ar
thur was asking her how she was
All worn i troublesome," said
he, " but it will grow easy by aud
Now, this happened long ago, and
Lillian since then has become a mod
el cook, but she says her troubles
have taught her to appreciate the
old adage, that " where there is a
will there is a way," and that no la
dy's education is finished until she
has learned these all-important du
ties. How a Miser was Taken in.
Everybody has heard of Vclpcau,
the great French surgeon, but few
persons are aware of the fact that
he was very miserly and disagree
able. A story has recently been
told of him to the effect that, having
successfully performed a very peril
ous operation oh a boy, the mother
of the patient waited upou Vclpcau
"Monsieur, my sou is saved, and
I really kuow not how to express
my gratitude. Allow me, however,
to present you with this pocket
book, embroidered by my own
"Oh, Madame," replied Vclpcau,
"my art in merely a question of fecl
Ing'. My life has its requirements,
like yours. Dress, even, which is a
luxury for you, is uccesary for me.
Allow me, therefore, to refuse your
charming little present, in exchange
for a more .substantial remunera
tion." "But Monsieur, what remunera
tion do you desire? Fix the fee
"Five thousand francs, Madame."
The lady very quietly opened the
pocket book, which contained ten
thousand francs in notes, counted
out five, and after politely handing
them over to Vclpcau retired.
"Phancy his pheelinks."
Are we the brethren of Jesus, be
loved and chosen" by our Father,
born again of the same Spirit, par
takers of the same grace, heirs of
the same promises, travellers to the
same kingdom, and shall we not
love each other?
Mitchell says: Man's love is but
ono of many feelings; in the scholar
it is subservient to his thirst for
knowledge; in the patriot it yields
to the worship of country: rrlorv
halves the heart of tho soldier; but
with women tho affections are om
nipotent; they absorb all other
thoughts, and make all other pas
sions their slaves.
Ponder the path of thy feet, and
let all thy ways be established.