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u' A , VJBKKyrJ01j'llNAL-I)Ey f ICTI iEK te AGRrCOTUliEf COMMEltCia AXnv
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NEW SERIES VOL. 1, NO 4G.
lcijgs Cdmitf clcgvaj) jj.
rUBMSHED WEEKLY. BY -
TV . 'A
' AH busineM of th fi im trannncted by
A. B. M'LAVOBLiai
"Who sliould be upplied tc or addressed at
tli "Telegrfph'' OfTme, Pomeroy, O.
TF.RMS OF RUBSCRIPTIO."
In drtnttieo. t ' ' I -' t f. . t
K palil within tha year, : ;
1 mit said wlibln tb year,
TTJK pnver will be dleconttnuea nntu i arrear
P P t b option ef the publlabara.
J THE LAW OF NEWSPAPKns. -i
' 1. Sub-riljere wbb do not pre notlre w
lb ei4r-4 lire eoneldortxt wUblnf to eonUeae
U K'rittrtordor lh. dl.ronUnnnnce oftlirif
fa para, the publisher enu continue toeena vneiu nn
il nil nrrenrcee are rial'l.
3. ir eubtcrlborii n(rletl or rerueo lo take tbelr po
pere from tl.e offlce to whuk tbey are rtlrerUd. they
a r. lieM reaponMWle till thoy eettle their bill, and or-
..... . .t I -n 1 1 1 . II n
. If any anlwcrlber romoree to another place
wilhoal lof.nuln the pbliber, and tbolr p.er la
e-jiilto Ilia furiuurairociiwn,iu -
45. The eortliao 4cl.led thatrof.i.ln.to take a
uewapuiwrlrVoui the uftlc, or remorliKf and loaln?
it oncBllea for, ii.rliuruclootldenco of Intentional
KATES OF ADVERTISING:
ti. ..i.... r...i. t line or if m. one year, t
? !r, I
, ..i.i'mtpih rolutnn one year. t t
I IS Oil
On J-hnlf column one year, t i .
'Miruo-l'ourtha of column ooe year, I
n I ..n -mr : J ! t
S 90 00
Casual wr tranatent uaniimoi.i, "v
f0rAdvartWemoiit not balnit the nnmber of Injor
t'ona marked on copy, will be contluuod until fer
bid, null charited accordingly.
Vua i-vi.mil " ' . , - - ...... I.- ,.,.1.1
T. A. PLANTS, Attorney and Oouncelor
nl Law. Hoiueroy, O. Office In the Court Home.
j mi a. iin. ja oa tmi rt.
II ANN A Js EATIIIART, Attorneys at
taw, Poiueroy, O. All bulno entrusted to their
onru will ri'cp'ive prompt attention.
TilO VIAS CAULETON, Attorney and
CouniPlor at Law. Offl. e, Linn hlreet, euat nle,
.i v..,.. t T. smitii'a Shoo Store. omolte
tbe Hainlncton Hooae. All buinea enlruatod to
Ida core will receive prompt attention.-
T-K-7Tt,sv,.ABL J K. a. CONSTABLE,
in ,h tirm-fifime of CONSTABBE A
CONSTABLE, Attorney nl Law, will practice In
the' State Courts of Ohio and the U. h. Courtv
Ofllce, Stall' atroet, Atlien. Atliein Co.,t. lg
T I'll YWtClANri.
A ATRTcTC. Pliysician and Surgeon
f am.ii City. Va. All calU to the country promptly
DAlTlEL" HATH BURN, Bank;,,
llHiik Blok,Curl-atrtet,romcroj,0. Collectlona
made ind prmMplly ll',.
7li t OlIS i KOChKIKK CLOI inptt--
ISAAC FALLF.H. Clothier,
Hrv Giiod DHlor, flrat Klorn noove ...jiii.u.j
JciiuliiK" , "' 'ho Roinn-Mlll. Pomeroy, O.
Country Morrl.Kiiia are rospect'ully requealeil to
call an'l examine iuy -lock of Grneericn, 1 am
. ..n ...... ii.t i irttini ii unnt;rit)ii '
6. BRANCH & CO., Dealers in Dry
.. . n t..- Uuntviro. Qiieiiwarti. &c
- ts-rt ld of O mrl atreut, three door above the
rner of Front,
. ro r.s T.N-VVAHK.
t Tl i'RALL. Manufacturer of Tinware
-ami Dealer In every variety of Stove, etc.,Coiirt
atreet, Pomrrov. , ''
i. W. JtNES. Pr..pritt..r MiddlejM)rl Sash
i t.ii..i.. 0,11 Kill fill nil ordi-ra in hla
.- i' ...... ...t. . rki iii iiiiirL irHriii I
piViitR ftiiT.Vin fin n oVd-r. in in.
r bn.in i.iiiiduiillr. and at low rutea. by
nttdrooiiiv; or n r.i.l vine to him tit Mlddleport. 1-7
S TEAM SAW'MILL. Front . sli eel. Pom-
irith ron,tuntiT on hand, for aula. ii I
ilLIEIOCK & NYE, Proprietors Coal-
i$mlrl CTri toV Vtan
IiEVGERVILLE Htam (irist Mill N.
Ntiiwarl, Proprietor ha been recently reDuut, ana 1
1 now ureparod to do enod work promptly. " I
JOHN & DAVIS, Juts his Planing Ma-
... i tr . w .. PAtnnrav. in flrood ordor. and
eonrfaut ouerntlJn. Flouong, wBthcr-boarding,
Ac. kept conatantly on hund, to fin order, i-ie
' JKWELKY. - '
i''ETER LAMiiRECHT. Watcbmaker &
pealerlo Watchrs, Clecka, Jewelry and Fancy
Articles. Co-irt atrwet, bolow the now Banking
-Hou!, Pomoroy. Watt-Be, Clock and Jewelry
- carefullr repuired on hort notice.
v7-r-TiTn5KRVVtr.hrnr and Jew-
'.:..ni...i- .nd retail dealer in w.tcho..
. w . t r I. rfw.ii .KittA I
rand Fancy Good, Pront-t..aboo
House. Pomeroy. Particular attcn-I
niriinr III articles in my lino. i-i
tin nuttl to re pa
r" BOOTH AND riHyKS.
1 " I
T. WHITESIDE, Manufacturer ot coots
-ami 8hoe. Front Street, three door above Mono
bridge. The beat of week, for Ladie and Gentle-
... ..4. , . riir. 1 i-i
McQUIQG & SMITH, Leather Dealers
and Findors, court atreuv, j oor oeiow tne nana, i
and oppovite Branch's Store, Pomeroy, Q.
; M AMUTACTtlKES.
I'OMEUOY Kolling-Milt Co. have- con
-atantly on. nandraad make to order, a inperlor
onalitr of Iran of all sixes. - Order promptly exe
cuted, by application to the A (rent at the Mill, or to
- ----- L. F, POTTER, Cincinnati.
CUALPORT Salt Company. Office in
n . l r . A .7.1 . , .
ij a. a v A. rvai i" r wva-Vw i
r' Buiidins; Coaipoit, 6. Salt for country
. Retail, thirty-fly eents per bushel. I-I
bUUAiX-RUJN Salt Uompany. oaitiwen-
. . . , r . ...
ty-flve ente per bushel.
m a . . 1 f-VM.a Ym liienaoal
VIUt tliv Hiiieivw.
bAtrvuA.i. r' ci.
nralnT ouanei, ror uoaatry iraoe. i-i
- . .
DABNEY Salt Company, Coalportj
thirty-tlTeceiiUperboahel for country trade.
, .. . . leLACKHMll HING.
HUMPHREY, Blackaroith, in hi?
new bulldlnir. hartt of the Bankbulldlnr. Pomeroy,
Job Work of all kinds, Ilorso-slioelng.tb., eseeated
with oeatnn aaa alapatcn. - - - l -l
' . PAIXTKKK GLAKIEHf). Z
JF. JjYMAN, Painter and Glazier, back
roowi-of p. Lambresht'a jewein store, west aid
uriP.r,.i...ni,U. -r - -
JOHN EISELST1N. Saddle, Harness and
Trunk Manufacturer, Frent Street, three ' oora be-
.-Vow Court, Pomeroy, vlll exeeuto all work oa
Sraawd to hi care with nealneaaand dispatch, ffad-
. die eottea nn In the neatest atyle. 1-69
JATresvTtTalrT. Saddle and Harness
" Maker. Phop over Black and Rathhurn'a store,
statiano.v. . -
wiOOM MAK1NC. '
PETER CROSBIEr Wagon Maker. Mul-
kerry street, went aide, three door Back atreet.
fries, Carriage, At. All erdare tilled on short
r-oraroy,i6.io. Manufacturer of Wacom. Bur.
X wtice. ; . i-i
t. C. WHALEY,' Sureeon Dentist.
Rummer Building Snd flory, Rutland street.
profenriun promptly porformad. Larita
jkii nprTnuj,, penafiiinc so too
pea al their reaidcare. If deslree).
One iijHHrj. tblrlai-n Jinua or 1
Each ubuonl Inaurtton. t ' : 1
urn) anunro throo moiiihs, t : : ; ; JC!
. in- iiuurc alx month, : : 8 . J
. . . .. - ........ MUp. t t S lOUII
) o f t. r
T TOM HOOId.
I rmtn1r mil "
Th frtole linked 0((tier,
l'T mjod around in full, , ,w . -i -
Llka loaret In wmtrj watbr,tI 'u. :ll ,,
t feel Ilk ona who troid alone '' ' -
foiiMt banquet'liall ileM-nvd, i "-
Whou llftbu are Hod. whne garland'l da4,
AnUali but be dopartxtll
Thii In tbe 11111 r nl(tht, ...-.';
lire l"ioibur cUaln but t.oaod me,
Sd mrrir brliift thn llirlit
Of otbor djiysarouDd me. . :
. A OO0NTBY BOMS.
Ohl gWe me home In the conntry wide,
And a anal by the fnraier'a wnnd Mrealda, .-
-where the are burn brle;B,,J '
On afr.Mlv iilahu . -r - :
Whm the Jeat am) the aonft and thn Unrli are free,
uui tne rartnere norae ti tne uoiua lor me.
Oh! Rlre me a home In the eonatry
vv ben the earlli ccnica out ai a Ulu
bind bride. .
with ber bodaand nuwera,
In thn brlelit aprlne houra.
Hor bridal lone; rlii(tln(T from freah-leaved treat
And melody Dual on the perfumed breete,, , -
In aummor,a aoat la a ahady nook.
And cloae by the aide of a purling brook, . .
V, bore tue viuiet (crown, ,,
Or the i.ale awauip roe
Falntlnn; and airk 'ueutb the aun'a torching team,
Itlpa hor fair petal, lu the coling atroam.
oh' c1re lne " nom ln the country wide,
In lfi jroldi-ii dnya of a fnrmer'a pride,
nbxii hla baruiiarc nllud,
Vreni the flulda he"a tilled.
And he feel that hla yearly tank U done,
8 lulling at wlntur, be beckunablin on.
THE NEW SOUL OF
JOHN MARKKA M .
Fifteen rears bad rolled away since I
stood in the market place of the city of
Hartford. 1 left it when the turf was
green, and the thrushes were making mu
ic on the elms; the turf was green,, and
the birds were singing then. 1 saw a
taid man in black go bv, gravely smiling
to the children and 1 know he was the
settled clergyman, but not the one I left
there. There were countrymen Btanding
by their carts in the market; women chaf
fering with penny-worth purchasers in the
stalls : carriages driving into the street
filled with ladies on an airing from the
watering places near by; old men and
young men, women and girls the manner
of life was even as when 1 left it, the forms,
the faces of that once familiar life were
Ohl futeen years make great diuerences
in a returning man. wnerever ne may
have passed them in a home as cheerful
as the one abandoned, amidst the caresses
of the beloved, surrounded by pleasant
prospects, fondled by prosperity a he
will go back to the old place, let Mm re
member that a chilly pain in the heart
awaits him there, when he shall fee trees
and houses, and the very street stones stay,
but the living pass away and are forgotten.
But when a man has spent his absence
as I have mine for I had not been on the
Continent, listening now to Rose Cheiie,
now to Thalberg, now to the cathedral ca
dences of Volimo; where the floods. break
. . .... .
from his refunding hps under the ever
Diue arcn oi a resounuiuir b.v. j "u huv
Jn U)e enlhe of tlml air wll5ch Juled
th old world Memphis gallants which
iuiig the Howndii now: I had not been liv-
-in wjth friends who, shouhjer to shoulder,
worked with mo hopefully m the daytime
or welcomed me at night toa glowing hearth
in a room where my children sat upon my
nee whve the TOSY fire-light danced With
, , , , J .
beloved hushed down the business echoes
of my heart with a rich, old ballad in a
soft young voice.
I tl.. not often call ud these fifteen rears.
for thev are melancholt.maddeninff irhobts.
But when 1 do, the inusio with which they
stalk into my thoughts is 6Uch as this, a
monotonous sound - ot nammers ciinn,
clink, clink always iri the same measure.
- 1 1 i V 1 rll
Drofeen only by the fall of stone frag
... 1 i e j
ments!a heavy clank of iron doors mer
. - . a.
cilessly shut . in reverDerating corriaorB,
witn notinog out my own impulse coming
afterward: tor X Speut tWV DlteCD Years in
pnsonl .i . . . .
- Do you ask how I came there? The
story is not a long one. I was a junior
partner in tne oanEing iiouse vl my eiuer
brother near Hartford. One evening about
nine o'clock, as I was leaving the steps of
my lodging, a heavy nana fell upou my
shoulder, and I turned to see a Sheriffs
officer, with his assistant, statidinir closely
by me. On the opposite side of the street
the lights shown merily from tne window
of jVg woman T lOVed. .1 WSS On TOY WSY
. - ..a .
I . - . T .
to answer mv invitation, and I feft, as
I m . -
everv true man feels oh such an errand
i ...... s .
gentle towaras an Humanity.
tJJ X Villa IIVFIi
I rvVilv Tiiar SBida tha mtrlnn? liann
.v6m., .. r -
ns ordinarily I would have done, but qui
I etiy movea out irura unaer u, ana saia
"My man, there is some mistake , here.-:
You have taken the wrong person
- Any eme who knows what it ia to loose
o completely, in a fearful .dream, the self
poeaession oo which he would steady him-
belf, that he can no longer say, V'Tis only
I a dream." but begins to know that it is ac
mil sarill iwalizn how th awful truth i.reke
on rne in an instant as the officer an
"That won't do! you are John Markham
of Hartford. ' In the name of the Com
mon wealth I arrest you for forgery.
Just then on the opposite side of the
street, the curtain went down at th lighted
window, and knowing in my soul that it
dropped forever between m and the . one
being who in her hands held all things for
which I lired, I felt quick, eold shudder
of irony run through me, and my knees
smote tocethcr like m coward's, j I said no
more but went with my captor, t .r
The first night in jaill - Ab, that was
terrible! Tbe clammy, echoing stones of
the. floor .over which I paced in the .dark
ness did not hurt mo in thoir hardness.
The foul, coarse rmllet on which at iater
als 1 threw myself in raj bewildered
weariness, did not chafe me by its coffin
narrowness. ' I waa'beyond hurt from such
things; for in tha five minutes between
my lodging and ny; cell I' had lcome
aware that I was brought' to- ai position
whose sublime awfulness could not be
quailed ; by anything- else ; on riarth.-
Qaicker by far than I can write, yet in this)
channel, had my thoughts runi' 1 ;ur '
My brother, three days ago, gave me in
private a heavy draft to. be colieciefi at
another banking house,, drawn in hi fator
by bne of his correspondents And indorsed
bf another, J -remember that ho looked
restless wherf he gave it to me; that hel
nurriea irom tne room lmmeuiaieiy atter-
ward. I presented, the drrfi; I, received
the money; the books .which I kept beat'
no account of it. . . He forged the paper. I
am the suspected one. , T have no means
of proving my innocence, tiniest, perhaps,
t - mi... i
ujr proving ll in Uilk. a ua, uiusi. nan, ,o
imp oesible. . At any rate, what a ferrible
step for a man to take against his . dead
mother's only other child 1 And he l as a
lovely wife whom it would slay. Yet I my
self . have O God! shut out . her image
from me! I must not see it, I shall go
In this grooye my thoughts rolled back
and forward through the night. Facing
this alternative I stood till the day of trial,
just one month. ' My brother came often
to see me; he lavished tears and embraces
upon me; he retained for me the beet coun
sel yet lie always seemed like one in a de
lirium of a fever, and ever just as the turn
key swung back the heavy door to 1st him
out, he would atop for a moment, lremD
ling, and with his lips half-opened, as if
about to say something more to me then,
without meeting my eye t He wonid rusn
from the cell. Suffering as I was, suffer
ing still more, as I was about (o do,' from
the consequence of his sit I could pity
him deeply. I could forbear with the cow
ardness which he could not confess, for ,1
new how priceless liberty muat be to a
man, who, losing it, leaves his other soul
in that most heart-broken of all widow
hood the widowhood of a convict's wile.
She whom I loved visited me many times,
always bringing me sweet messages in her
presence from the birds , and the flowers
and the free Bky outwide- always talking
in a voice intensely sustained into cheer
fulness, of my acquittal; and restoration to
our old hopes. 1 told her I was innocent,
and ohe believed me. I could not tell her
who was guilty. "
My trial came on, . I need not pain my-
solf with a . long recital of the thronged
court, the weary questionings and cross
questionings, the audible' silence of the
crowd when the pleas were made, the mo
ment whose shadow leu upon me, when
the foreman solemnly said "guilty" that
other moment when I was condemned to
the awful alienage of prison for the fifteen
years to come. , . . , , . - i 'I
lhes 1 parted irom home ana ipenas.
My brother did not bid me good-bye; he
lay sick of a raging fever, on whose chances
hung lite, liut she, tne holy, the neoi ic
who had borne all unrigs came to see me
na a j Its 1H
go. Khe clasped my mnnacien nanasin
her own; she pressed one long, last kiss
upon the convict's lips, ond she said, with
a solemn cheerfulness-, "I will wait' for
you!" Then, with b superstition whichi
frivolous though it seem, still crept into
he aw fulness of that hour, 1 stopped my
watch, and vowed inwardly that its hands
should nevermore move till we met again.
After that, the gates of my prison
opened to let in but one message from the
lifo outside. ' The chaplainabroughl me a
lock of well-known sort brown hair, and
told me with a tear in his eye, that an old
man had given it to him for me, saying,
"My daughter is with. God.: She died
whispering that she would wait for John
JUarkman." - ' ' !'" ' '
1 endured the knowledge of her death
with a benumbed patience, uncomplain
ingly; rarely weeping a single drop. -1
went through the unvarying round of day
labor in the prison- yard with a steady.
mechanical industry which snrprised my
taskmaster, for, heretofore, 1 had beeu
taunted as "the weak gentleman' "white
fingers," and whatever other epithet er in
sult the hardened bullies of discipline are
accustomed, at discretion and without fear
of chastisement, to confer upon those who
are placed, in their grasp. At evening X
held up the tress into - the taint twilight
which just Muttered t through the grates,
and, kissing it, seemed to see her by me
for i could' never think of her . as dead.
That realisation was kindly spared me by
the fact that no new void can be felt, po
new unnaturajnees, in the eternal void and
unnaturalness of a prison.
, Bnt one sight coming from . work I
found the tress gone. Asking tbe turnkey
for it, I was told , "Prisoners are allowed
no useless articles.' From that moment
I knew she whom I loved was deed. Like
a wild flood the agony of the knowledge
rushed upon me. . Vith it .came the mem
ory of my burning wrongs the scorn of
man spent upon . my innocent head -tbe
perfidy of my only brother tbe lrredeem
able helplessness of all things. And
Shut myself, up in silent, sullen madness,
A.most dangerous madness it was.' From
the time I lost the tresses fire years were
to elapse before I went out; and if, in that
lime, a revolt liaa sprung up in my- pris
on, I had died fighting in its front, for 1
was ripe for any crime, As it was, I only
bods my! time. Once out. I would wreak
condign vengeance on society -on law
on my brother. . ., , . r ;
. The fire years passed fi ve years of d uat
arid clinking in tbe yard of darkness,
mattering, low, - trmotheriMg, heart-burn
ing in the cell., At last, one morning, the
warden threw open my.door, and I passed
out with a slow lock-step which I had been
practising nearly m quarter of a. life-time'
I was going lo .'cliapel wiih tha 'reati-lfo
hearbt the Prodigal &rt l t Magdalen
hey, the guiliy, but Vrf orned-I, tho
innocent, yet the thrust o-j. Bu the of
ficer stepped me with the. ; three' words,
"You a-fi-eer , .
i did not cheer, nor rlngt- roan's hand;
nor even smile.! " Qne griavs used fo fof
get these wars of the woi! 1 after fifteen
years in prison. 1 ,. ;
But the revenge whichjlltlle by little,
had stretched its fibrous t&j'-s through the
soil of ray heaxtv till .ercp drop of life
juice went to nourish ihci 'nt, new be
gan to put forth its bloss ; and I felt
them bud info' an ecstatic isonous' fra-
f' rancwk,,1,My'Weet,!-iini !r.'-hoped-for
our had corne. T ""'--'. ' more
the "despiwid convict 6lioulXturt open hlsl6wTheer1edr'Look hot on itnot God Is
motley chrysalis, and-be nishing, like a
winged JNemesis, to settle ftccouuts with
a world which had the start bimf by fif
teen ; years. 1 " ' ' :'"- '
X went to the prison wardrobe and got
back that dress which, in tin days long
gone, I had put off with the test of my hu
manity. They were " clean, fastidiously
gentleman-like as when I hid left them.
i seemed lor a moment, at i.ieir aigm, to
be waking from the terrible' eternity of a
bad dream to be finding them folded by
my bedside, where they ind only lain
since the last night.' ' !''''
I had come in with the niaieaty of the
aw a guard on either side.' I went out
alone no danger was apprehended ot my
escaping from the other prison, the world.
Leaving those high gray walls belnrm, 1
struck into the road for Hartford. ' Had
I come eut five years before, I might have
been expressly softened by (be long, un
wonted music of the birds, that, , from
trees and orchard walls, made the air full
of their joy. Now I had lived past the
lime when such' Mi:ngs could touch me,
and walked still in the lock-step, looking
neither about nor forward, but evermood
ilv on the cround. And thua. late in the
asternoon, I came whither . the commence
ment of my recital finds tne,"and stood in
the market-place of the town which 1 bad
seen fade out behind me as I went away in
scorn. i . , . ...
No wonder that by all the passers I was
stared, at as an oddity something .to be
kuspecled and shrunk from, iorniy grii-
gled hair was of the prison cut, my clothes
had gone out of fashion when the fathers
m the streets were children, and , not by
fear, but long use, I looked no man in the
face. : And here and there, in knots, the
people whispered about roe, sometimes
with evident carelessness as to how loud
But I only nursed a deeper and more quiet
wrath..-'V . .-.."
There came along that way a throng of
children just from school.. . Stepping up to
one of them, X asked, "Does Ueorge
Markham still live in this place? The
little girl turned up a sunny spring morn
jug face, and answered, "I am his daugh
ter, sir: do you wish to see him?"
A hellish thought, suggested iteelt to
me. .. I said,, "Yes,' you may show me the
way to his house." I knew we should
take a cross-path over , the fields and pass
a long reach of lonely woods. In the most
solitary part of that 1 might wreak upon
the guilty head of. Ueorge Markham the
most terrible vengeance which could wipe
out his most bitter wrong to me. 1 would
kill his child and bring her home to him,
confessing that I did. it, and glorifying in
tne enu ot mat noma game ot quoins on
whose brst throw he had staked my lieav-
en ana tost it. ...
, i . ?.
Tbe little maiden . took my hand con
fidingly. That might unnerve me; so I
oosed it, and X told her, to go belore while
followed. , She toesed back her curls
and went bounding, ahead at a rate my
strides were hardly equal to. Still X kept
my eye upon her, . After awhile we came
to a low brook -course, between two hills,
ever the foremost , one of which I could
just see the chimney of my brother's house
I looked about me no one was in sight
rescue was impossible. . The devil whis
pered, VNow!" Then X called to her to
stop, saying I must look for something I
had dropped. . She obeyed and stood,
amusing herself with making . wreaths of
tne violets mat grew dj the water-course,
while M stopped to find a heavy stone
which might do mv biddinor of vengeance
surely and silently. All around me in the
bed of the brook were nothing but peb
bles, i X waited a lew steps turtber down
n my quest., The little girl must have
thought me, leaving her, for, all at once, I
heard her call gently, '! am waiting for
youi';., ..... ... ,:, ' :: ;
,. Uracious Uodi . Who spoke? . Do the
loved that are forever lost cry to us out of
raradisex 'X am waiting for vou! floated
down through, the prison bars from her
whom the father bad just numbered with
the saints! ' ,., , ..,...!, .. ', V. '
I stood vp and wandered back, more
dreaming .than awake, to the spot where
lieorge Markham m l daughter sull 'staid,
plaiting violets. She turned to me with a
smile, and said, "L did not mean to hurry
you, sir, but my father is very unwell, and
I ought to be at home. Will you please
to teume now me it uvr ' . .
' - For tha first time after those fifteen
prison years in whioh . knowing toil and
darkness only, I had asked no other meas
urement of time, I mechanically put my
nana to .my breast and. drew, out my re
stored watch. .' Was I sane? - Tbe second
hand, slopped at the last kiss of, agony
give m by roy beloved, whether by mir
acle or the agitation of my grasp 1 knew
. 1 T -1 ,T 1 - ' .A
not, oioTvu ea jutM- aiigBiniriginaBU
rushed on me the memory . of mv vow.
"Till, we meet this watch shall neve; count
time again."; .,.. t, - .'.;, '
Yes we had neet -met ia tltai voice
quiet waiting met vis l this . - wonderous
omen of the watch met when 1 knew not
when she 'was seen bv none bat God
and her sister angels. - And the, wrathful
embers went out in tire breast of John
Markham,' and, viawlesslv ' homing over
him, die long-cherished dead smiled bliss
fully as she -saw ia thai moment there had
ntered into, him a peir squ1vsv;,. . .,(. ,
I clasped the little one, in my,,arma.,; ,1
told : her that her ' fatliftr was' my only
brother, and "then waited 1 humbl to ses
ber teooil from the loathsome :convict
But with . child-like joy she hugged me
closer around 'he neck, . and cried, "Oh, I
am so gladT ,1. am so glad! t Toot papa
has been talking about yon ' those four
days, and saying, .'But; oh,' he must not
die! I cannot die till John comes home!' "
I.With a reverend step, and bowing low,
I came intq the room of my dying brother.
His. pale face flushed and paled again as
be saw me; and then, hiding It in the pu
wreaning nis wraui on toe uevn who naoiru
your life!" -. -'.
."Not so, my brother," I answered sol
emnly. "I, from my soul forgive you.
How much more shall He who pitieth his
children? For me. He hath this day
wiped out the past like a tablet,: and look
ing up to him as both of us condemned in
His sight, let us join hearts, making no
difference, my brother,."
I held him on my breast through the
waxing and the waning of this Strang
night my first night of liberty my first
night with the new bouI. And he sor
rowed with the sorrowing that needeth no
repentance. With a kiss that brought
back the days of our childhood, at dawn
Ms epint departed Horn me. men, Desiae
the little girl who had fallen asleep' from
weariness, I laid him who slept the calmer
sleep -the sleep of calmness and peace.-
The day came for the reading of the will.
Relatives, friends, neigh bore, were all. col
lected in the parlor where my dead brother
used to sit, pining' remorsefully through
the long evenings, with .his motherless
child. Yet thev all sat apart from the
returned convict, looking at me with ah
evil eye. ' But I bore it meekly, with little
Rose in her morning dress, nestled against
my breast, as if 1 were the last thing she
had on earth to cling to.
The lawyer opened the will and began:
"In the name of God, Amen. I, George
Markham, banker, of Hartford, being of
feeble body, but of sound and disposing
mind and memory, do hereby constitute
my last will and testament: ; ..t ,
- ' . ' A .
"X bequeath my soul to, the infinite
mercy of God. if it be possible. 1 be
queath my name to the oblivion of all true
men who shall know the ttuth. J hat l
bequeath to my ; brother, John Markham,
pot of bounty,.. but of immeasurable in
debtedness, in my confession that I alone,
and unaided, am the author of that dam
nable si n which brought the shadow of a
prison,' the loss of all things ou his-innocent
head. And, finally, 1 give and be
queath to John Markham all my estate,
both real and personal, to have and to hold
to him, his heirs and assigns forever, con
fident that he will so have mercy on my
guilt as to be in all things a father to. my
Then, like the friends of Job, my ac
quaintances came back to me, beholding
how I was prospered. Again I stdod an
upright man in the face of earth as well
as heaven, and none uttered an ill whioper
of me. i
Now 1 live alone with Rose, who had
filled the place of the daughter I might
have had but for the fifteen years. fciie
is my child, my companion, my comforter,
my pupil. . And never on earth will I bring
any other love between us; for at night,
when I look up into the stars, I hear a
, j.f ..t :.: fal
low voice aaying, - j. itiu wiuuug iui uuu
"More Truth Tbau Poetry."
An exebansre paper says, "that while
the business raen of America proverbially
live poorer, dress shabbier, work harder,
and during more hours than those of any
other country in the world, their wives
and daughters are ten times more iaie,
more extravagant and more useless."
In the above extract, there is, we fear,
considerably more truth than poetry. We
know a case in point: Mr. Turquoise, of
the firm of Turquoise," Opal & Co., of
Broadway. Turquoise toils from twelve
to sixteen hours a day. : Turquoise last
year made 922,000. Uf this, 910,000
were spent by Mrs. lurquoise tor new
furniture, "to suite the Leons." while a
large portion of the balance was spent in
sending "Blanche and Rose" to Newport,
to show "the Maxwell's" that there were
other diamonds beside those inherited from
a great-grandfather, who found in India a
princely fortune and a diseased liver.
Turquoise has been in trade 6ince 1840.
He does a ' large and lucrative business-
People who have never been in his parlor
and kitchen imagine that he is worth A
quarter of a million of dollars, while those
who have been, are in wonder how he
dodges the sheriff. ' Turquoise is still toil
ing, and still making money, and yet, if
. . ,, 1 . '
lie snouia ate to-morrow, it is quosmona
ble whether his assets would meet his lia
bilities. He will probably end his (lav
bv trvinr? the virtue of a sh'lling's worth
of strychnine. Should we be one of the
.i u i : :
Jurors, we Hdouiu uuug iu um lununiug
verdict: . "Died from the visitation of ac
extravagant wife and two senseless daugh
' A Spark of tnz Argil Lmt. An ex
change says that a number of abandoned
women in. New Orleans, have, since the
breaking out of the yellow fever, in tha
city, been most unceasing in their atten
lions to the sick, and have proved the
most valuable nurses. They have been
tbe means of saving a number of lives, and
in socK angelkt labors for tbe deeds are
heavenly though performed by the daugh
ters of s:n several of them have died-
died at the post of duty and mercy, min
istering to the viutims of the plague.
'A WOMArt'S QIJ KSTipN i
,.- , ,ij'.'wHfsjBTiM l' !:')''.
:! - Befora I Irnat my faifh In ih;i J l.'n
Or place my hand In Ihlni-;, .
"' - Bfor I let tii fiar)ri.-e . !- ''I I 'I t j
Color and form in nilnoi i
Itefora I H-rllall for thee, question tlij sent to.
.,., W.Sv-i ..J HTft.f w.:i Sff ;
, I break all lighter bonfs,nor feel. . , -j
Aafadownf regret;- 1
i I there one link wlihlu the part, : t...
That hold Ifn spirit jetT 1 '
. Or I Uiy faith oa rlear and free sj that wblch 1
- cm plcdgo to tliuuT
' ; Doeatbere wltiilnihj'dimmift dreamt
I . A possible future aiilao, . . ;
Vi'berulu thy life could bcucf forth breathe,
, li atouuhed, uaabared by ailuel , i
If so. at any pain or cost, O, lull im- before all Is
I oat. , -,,.', i i: :,, : I
Look deeper tllf.. If tboa canst fset .!
W Itlilu thy in most ,oul
That tboa haat kt-4 a portion back, .
While I have slaked the whole.
Lot we fate rrtty spare the btvw ha la true
Mercy trll into so.
. '- , , '..-.'.
la there wlihln thy heart a need
'J hat mine cannot fallllf -:
One chord lhat any othur band
Could better wake or still f
. Fprak now teat at so toe future day my whole
lifo wither and decay. (,.. , .,
LIvjs there within thy nature hid " .'
T he dcnion-epliit Chniiga, , , ,
' Flloddlng a passing glory atijl :
Of all Uilng nua eud strsngeT "
II may not bo thy fault alou--bul shield my
liuart against thy set,
Couldsl thou withdraw thy hand one day
And answer to my elalm, i - '
That Pale, and that to-da'a milako
Not tboa had been to blame; '
. Seme ooothe their conscience thus; tlius thou
oh, surely thou will warn me now, .
Jinv, aniwer not Tdaro pot hear
'lue worda would i-ome too late;
Yet I would ipara the all remorse, -Bo
comfort tbue. my late:
Wlintever on my hoart may fall remember, I
woclo rune tt an. . . .
Xlne Toullilul Bride.
Observe that slow and solemn tread
when the youthful, bride takes her wed
ded one by the arm, and with downcast
looks and a heavy heart, turns , her face
from "sweet home,", and all its associa
tions, which have for years been crowing
and brightening, entwining so closely
around the, purest and tendeiest feelings
of the heart. How reluctant that step, as
she moves toward the carriage, how elo
quent those tears which rush unbidden
. . a
irom tue louniain.
She lias just bidden adieu to her home;
she has given the parting hand, the parting
kiss! With deep and struggling emotions
she has pronounced the farewell! and oh,
how fond and yet. mournful s spell that
word breathes, and perhaps' 'tis the last
fare well to'that father, mo ther, brother and
bister. ''.'.. "... '.' ' -
Childhood and youth, the sweetest mor-
ning of life, with "its charm of earliest
birds,", and earliest associations have now
passed, ,ow commences a new, a mo
menluous perk d of existence. " She reads
"n living characters, uncertainty where
home was all iu alUo her. But these ties,
these associations, these enjoyments she
has yielded, one by one, and now she has
broken them all asunder. She has turned
her face from them all, and witness how
she clings "to ''the arm of him for whom
all theso have been exchanged. . .
See how she moves on! the world. is
before her, and a history to be written
whose pages are to. be filled up with life's
oveheet paintings, or perhaps with inci
dents of affecting interest of startling,
fearful record! Who can throw aside the
veil even of "three score years and ten,"
for her and record the happy and mm
bright incidents that shall arise in suc
cession to make invous and full, the cud
of life that shall throw around those em-
belishments of the mind and the heart
lhat which crown the domestic circle with
beauty and loveliness that which sweet
ens social intercourse, and softens, im
proves, and elevates the condition of so
ciety. Or who; with firm and unwavering
hand, can register the hours and days ot
affectionate and silent weeping, who can
pen the blighted hopes. the instances of
unrequited love the loneliness and sor
row of the confiding heart the deep cor
roding cares of the mind, when neglected
and forgotten as it were, by him who was
dearer to her than life when all around,
was drear and desolate, when the garnered
stores are wastened,and the flickering blaze
of tho eaith wanes and goes out, and leaves
her in silence, solitude and tears! Bat
her love wanes not, slumbers not, dies
The brilliant Bkies may shed down all
their gladdened beautieV nature array
herself in gay flowers, and bright hopes
and friends may greet with laughing coun
tenances and kind hearts, but it avails
naught. One kind look one soft and af
fectionate accent; the unequivocal evidence
of remaining ' love one smile like that
which wood and won her heart, would en
kindle brighter and deeper emotions at itB
fountain, than earth with all its splendor,
and gay associations.
Oh, young man, e ver be to thy young
bride what thou seemea t now to be; disap
point her not.' What has she not given
up for thee? What sweet ties mat Donnq
heart to heart, and hand to hand, has she
not broken off for thee? Prove thyself
worthy of all she has sacrificed for thee.
Let it ever be her pleasure as now, to cling
with confiding joy and love to that arm. lt
it be hef stay and support, and it shall be
well repaid. Hers is an enduring and un
dying love. Prosperity will strengthen
it adversity will brighten ana invigorate
it, and give to it additional luster and love
liness. Should the hand of disease fall
upon thee, then wilt thou behold woman's
devotion! for thou wilt never witness her
spirits wax faint and drooping at the couch.
When thine own are failing, she will cling
to thee like a sweet vine, and difiu&e around
thy pillow those sweet influences and at
tractions lhat shall touch the roaster springs
and noble passions of thy nature that
shall give new impulse to life. Her kind
voice will .bo like music to thy failing heart
- liko oil to thy wounds. Yea, she will
raise -then, rasters1 thee, and make thee
happy, ji" any thing less than an gel'can do "t
' Tlie iMSt Mai; v'-.- 5
' Tlie Cincinnati "Commercial" fiotiresa
OurioUa organization of seven young men
inio a sociiiiy, ou ;ue autli- ot ,x.pivwf .
1832, while the choler w aa raging in that
city. Their names "were JoKi-ph R. Ma
son, Wm.Btahebury; Win. DibtierV jr.; Dr.
James lit Mnn.' Fentoti . Lawman, Henry
ij. i J.atem, , and Mr. John. L. Vatuer--T-These
seven young men had met, at the
studio of Joseph R. Mason, who Wan jhe'n
a portrai t pal n I tr, yvhen the cmi verbal ioti
naturally1 turned on" the ''tarnges of Whs
cholera, and they got into a juontroversy
whether the disease was contagious 6f non
contagious. . . , . .
From thitt they entered Into wWn
compnet to meet annually, and ilfn'e to
gether as lofg as "they lived, and thatl
bottle of wine should be sealed and drank
in memorium, by the last survivor. The
6th of October was agreed -upon as tie
day on which to hold the anniversart'.
The bottle, of an octagonal shape; was
filled, sealed and placed in the caket and
locked, and each of the men kept the key
year about. Within the casket, beside lhi
bottle, were small slips of oilod paper, on
which each of tho men had wjiitan his
name, place and tim of birth, aiid'plaqo
of residence at that time, his age and oc
cupation. , , ... ; .. . ,
Whoever held the key fur the year was
to provide the banquet, whether rich or
poor, even if it consisted only of a loaf of
biead and a cup of water; and it was ar
ranged that, however tho number might
be reduced by death, or absence, 6even
chairs and seven pin ten should be set at
each banquet. Sfiotild ai.-y be ' absent,
those present were bound to make inquiries
as to his whereabouts. Lots were cast for
the keeper of the casket the first year, and
it fell to Dr. Vattier. The first annual re
union was held on 'the 6th of October,
1832, since which tlmo tlie full r.nmber
has never been present. - On the 12th of
August, 1858, Ileniy L. Talon died,
leaving Dr.. Vattier solo survivor of this
singular club; and on the 6th of October,
1868, tho Doctor took the last solitary
banquet, there being set six empty chairs,
and as runny empty plates. r
No man is rich whose expenditure ex
ceeds his means, and no man is poor whose
income exceeds bin outgoings. It is no
small commendation to manage a little
thing well. He is a good wagoner whp
can turn in little room. To live well in
abundance is the p raise bf the estate, not
the person. I will study rates how to give
a good account of my little, than how to
make it more. . ... t
Let honesty and industry be thy con
stant companions, and spend one penny
less than thy clear gains; then shall thy
hide bound pocket poon begin to thrive,
and ' will never again cry with hunger;
neither will creditors insult thee, nor want
oppress, nor hunger bile, nor nakedness
freeze thee. The whole hemisphere will
6hine brighter, and pleasure fjningup in
every corner of the heart. Now, there"
fore, embrace those rules and be happy.
Banish the bleak winds of Borrow from thy
mind," and live independent. Then shall
thou bo a man, and not hide thy face at the
approach of the rich, nor suffer the pain
of feeling Utile when the sonB of fortune
walk at thy right hand; for independency,
whether little or much, is good fortune,
and places thee on even ground with the
proudest of the golden fleece. '
Oh, then,' be wise, and letindustry walk
with thee in the morning, and attend thca
until thou readiest the evening hour for
rest. Let honesty be as tire, breath of thy
soul, and never forget to have a penny
when all thy expenses are enumerated and
paid. Then shalt thou reach the point of
happiness, and independence shall be thy
shield and buckler, thy helmet and crown;
thenBhall thy soul walk upright, nor stoop
to the fcilken wretch because Tie has richet-,
nor pocket abuse because the hand which
ofleiS it wears a ring set with diamonds.
Fercoualitieft are often vegardvd as the
zest, but mostly as the bane of conversa
tion. For experience seemB to have ascer
tained, or at least usage has determined,
that personalities are always spiced with
more oi leas of malice. . ,
i But you would nol have mixed conver
sation always settled into discussion of ab
stract topics. Commonly speaking, you
might as well feast your guests with straw,
chips and sawdust. Often, too, it happens
that in proportion as the subject of con ver.
6atior. is a mere Abstract, its tone becomes
more harsh and dogmatical. And what
are the women to do? they whose thoughts
always cling to what is personal and sel
dom mount into the cold vacant air of spec
ulation, unless they have eomethiog more
solid to climb round. You must admit
that there would be a dearth of entertain
ment and interest and life in conversation
without anecdote and 6tory.
Doubtless. But this is very different
from personalities. Conversation may
have all thatis lively and pleasant, without
anything that comes under the head of per
sonality. The house in whii-h, above all
others I have been the intimate of, the lifq
and spirit, and the joy of the conversation
nave Deen tne roost mience, is a nouse in
whioh 1 hardly ever heard an evil word
uttered against any one Gvtutr at Truti
3T"A love-smitten gentleman, after
conversing awhile with hi duluitiea on
interesting topic of matrimony, concluded
at laut with a declaration, and put the very
emphatic quentioii of, "Will you havo me?"'
"I am very sorry to disappoint you," re-
plied the lady, "and hop my refusal will
not give you pain; but 1 must answer no."
VWell, wejl, that wil. do, madam," said
her philosophical lovr, "and m. w tvjjoi
IPC change the suty'ect."