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HERE SHALL THE PBESS THE PEOPLE'S lUGHTS MAINTAIN, UtfAV/ED BY INFLUENCE AND TJNBRIBED BY GAIN. By ben. s. GiLMORE. (joTtA., Saturday" vol. u- --no. 26. . _ _ . - ■■ — !■ .11l . - Persian Serenade. Hark ! as the twilight pale Tenderly glows, Hark ! how the nightingale Wakes from repose . Only when, sparkling high, Etnrs All the darkling sky. Unto the nightingale Listens the rose. Here where the fountain-tide Murmuring Hows, Airs from tho mountain-side Fan thy repose. Eyes of thine glistening, Look on me, listening ; I am thy nightingale, Thon art my ro3e. Sweeter the strain he weaves, Fainter it Gowrs Now, as her balmy leaves Blnshingly close. Better than minstrelsy. Lips that meet kissingly Bilencc thy nightingale— Kiss me, my rose 1 — By Bayard Taylor, r.mmmm.^mmmmmmm^.mmmmmm GLEN ALLEN. A heavy mist hung gloomily above the peaks of the Wicklow mountains, a damp dullness pervaded the atmos phere; piles of sullen clouds lowered from the frowning skies and narrowed the already narrow horizon; a veil of moisture robed the meadows and dnllod the clatter, up the uneaven country road, of the approach of a small band of mounted dragoons. "Halt!" "'Twas a stern, sonorous voice—a voice that would make you lift your eyes quickly and instinctively to scan the Owner. It proceeded from stern, firm but handsome lips. It was en forced by keen glitter of a pair of dark gray piercing eyes; by the majesty of a free commanding form and by an air of native power entirely unassumed. The party drew up before one of those pretty cottages that have so nat urally sprung up in the beautiful wilds of Wicklow. A rustic gate stood half open and revealed a small and taste fully laid out garden with neatly ke"t_ walks, inviting the pressure of the in truder's foot. A porch, half-buried in woodbine, low windows draped in soft folds of white lace, through which the rye might trace a faint impression of a pleasant interior—these met the gaze of Captain Howard as he pushed wide the gardfn gate and strode within. The slow, irregular notes of a harp, as though the player, following a vague fancy, wandered aimlessly over the chords, arrested for a moment the ad vance of the dragoon. With a sudden impulse he turned backward to his •n«», and merely saying, "Wait till my retu'ii," he moved wi'h measured steps to the porch and knocked. 'Twas strange that in the few mo ments between his summons and the ap pearance of a whiteheaded domestic the. image of a sweet face he had seen and loved in another land should present itself so forcibly to his imagination; and stranger still that, as he lifted his eyes from that glance into his own hidden heart, he could almost swear the fate looked at him f»: an instant from the diamond windows near. Slightly moved, he saluted the porter by requesting to speak with the master of the house, at the same time gently insinuating he would beav him com pany as his business was too urgent to admit of even tho delay of waiting the gentleman's permission. "Deed, then, I'm aleard he'll be mad enough with me for letting you come in uninvited, I may say," said the old man; "b',t come along--andnivcr wel come you," he continued under his teeth, ' you Saxon hound. See, sir, here's a gentleman soldier was in sulh ■ hurry to sco you ho wouldn't wait >'or me to bring in his name." Seated in an arm-chair, reading or pretending to read, by a cheerrul fire, the person addressed looked up, laid down his book, deliberately wiped his glasses, and resuming them, surveyed his visitor. Mine is an errand much to my dis taste, sir," the dragoon began." My in trusion would be unpardonable, but that astern duty brings me here, and I have i.» entice but to obey." The occupant of the arm-chair made, an effort to sp ak, bu - , hough his lips moved, no sound escaped 'f.cm. He was a ver> elderly man, and very del icate coking, with a nerv - s twitch ing, closing and uncicsing of the hand iio'ding th' spectacles. He motioned th< v.goon to a seat, and agfiin looked In Mk i^ - * interrogatively. Chjiipj Howard waa less and , less pleased with his mission. He . was a haughty man, but with a good i and noble heart, straight-faced in out- < ward coldness and formality. He was I an Englishman by birth, and did not < consider himself bound in any ungen- ( crous crusade when he offered his ser- < vices to the Government for the pur- s pose of quelling the Irish insurrection, i But taking the field and playing po- f liceman are two different things. At I least, so Captain Howard considered, 1 and 'twas with mortification he found < that the role of dragoon captain in Ire- < land was at the time more than half ' police exercise. Begistering an inward i vow to resign his coramissien at the I first opportunity, the captain returned to the object of his mission. i "This place, is it not called Glen Al- < len ?" J The old gentleman motioned assent. , Unfolding a document, the Captain . continued; "The Government having \ had information that in this house is ] concealed a notorious rebel, for whose \ capture a large reward is offered, lam ] deputed to search the premises and as- ) certain the correctness of the informa- ] tion. As a loyal man you are required j to render all due assistance in the in- j vestigation." , The old gentleman, rising in a stately j manner, signified his willingness, and ( with a strange repugnance to the per- , formance of the duty, Captain Howard , ordered from the doorway half his men , to surround the house and arrest any one attempting to escape, the remain der to enter the house and await his orders. AVhile the search progressed he stood ' with arms folded and gloomy brows, following mechanically from room to room. Suddenly his gaze fastened on ! a picture—an oil painting—of a brown ringleted girl, with soft, hazel eyes, childlike in their candor and innocence, and sweet red lips, occupying the place « of honor over the mantel shelf. It was the face that had haunted him for a twelve month, the face of a girl that he had met in London society, had fol lowed ineffectually and had loved un reasonably. It was a face he had sud denly lost sight of, and sought in vain until now. He learned from the old 1 man that it was the picture - 'of a re- ] lative" at present staying with him. With unconcealed anxiety the captain 1 requested to be allowed to see the origi- 1 nal of the picture, and the old gentle man, humoring his visitor's strange i fancy, left the room and returned pres ently with a young lady whose extreme ; pallor was hightened by her dress of > deep mourning and the melancholy of her soft hazel eyes. At sight of the | stranger a faint blush dyed her cheek, i —Captain Howard, much agitated, ad- i vanced, and, taking her hand eagerly, : convinced itself by her recognition . that his fair London acquaintance stood before him. "How came it I lost sight of you so : entirely after that brief London' carni val," he said, "and how is it I find you j here in this convulsed country—in this solitude?" i "For the first question I can answer, there is nothing more common than for casual acquaintances, in a strange country, to meet, part, lose sight of i each other, Unless some powerful incentive remained urging a pursuance of the acquaintance. To the second I would answer, this is my native land— ( . these are my native hills; what place ; more meet for my residence V" she spoke half contemptuously, half defiantly. i "And your brother, the dark-eyed, Quixotic boy. Great God!" he mutter ed, "it cannot be." A deadly pallor spread o\ or the girl's face; sho raised herself proudly to her full hight and demand, "Well, sir, what cannot be?" He silently handed her the warrant for the arrest of a dark, slender youth, name assumed, whose capture wan im portant to the government, and against whom there was strong information. The paper went on to state he had been known to be connected, on important occasions, with some of the most prom inent rebel leaders, and a large reward was offered for his arrest, alive or dead. : The lady flushed and paled as her eye t ran over this document, and her agita- t tion was not lost on the dragoon. AVith sudden resolve he said, turning t to his men: "There is no necessity to search fur- t ther, I believe." i And despite of tha evident aulkiness I and disaffection of the. disappointed dragoons, he gave the orders to remount I and return to Wicklow. Nor could he fail to mark the sigh of relief that es caped the lips of the fair girl he had sought unavowedly to serve. He, in . t courtly manner, renewed-his apologies j to the host; trusted for the happiness of meeting the lady, and, if possible, ' ' serving her; and, with a new lightness; in his step and the cloud off his brow ; sprang into the saddle. As he did so a oud shout broke from the watch set at, the rear of the house, and the dragoons quickly appeared, dragging with them a slight, dark-confplexioned youth, whose appearance indicated the sharp ness of the struggle he had made tc escape. A week afterward fihe police annalp were full of the escape of the rebel captured at Glen Allen, and the sus picion attached to Howard, the dragoon captain, who was supposed to hay« given him facilities to elude lis cap tors. Though that could not be proved. Howard was ofliciaßy reprimanded for his want of vigilanae, and taking the hint, he retired at oAce from his posi tion in the army. The day Captain Howard's resignation was accepted, i the master of Glen Allen cottage and his fair relative prepared .to join the young outlaw of the family in his refuge at Havre. The cottage bore a : dreary aspect, all except the garden, in 1 which stood the fair lady to whose in- ■ fluence the exile owed his safety, and by her side stood Captain HJoward. t "You will forget that you have ever | seen me. You will forget you should ' reward me," he was saying earnestly and yet smilingly. ' "I," she murmured, brokenly, "shall ' never, while life lasts, forget or cease to be grateful for your generosity; but 1 am poor and obscure, who hiKve been wealthy and influential. What could I do to compensate your generous act— your loss?" "Much, lady," he said, gentry. "This little hand, nay. do not remove it—-is worth a thousand such acts, a thou sand such losses. Let it repay me." Sayings from the Chinese. Human nature came to us perfect, but in process of time our passions have corrupted it. Desire not the death of thine enemy, thou would'st desire it in vain ; bis life is in the hands of heaven. Obey heaven, and follow the orders of Him who governs it. Love your neighbor as yourself; let your reason and not your- senses be, the rule of your conduct. Do to another what you would he should do unto you. Thou only need est this law alone, it is the foundation and principle of all the rest. The tongue, which is yioltf.ing, en dures; the teeth, which are stubborn, perish. • Better be a dog in peace thjm a man in an anarchy. To violate the law is the s.tnic crime in the Emperor as in the subject. The hearts of the people, aro the only legitimate foundations of the em pire or of legitimate rule. Those who labor with thejlr minds rule; those who labor with thfeir bodies are ruled. Pope says: "And those who think still govern tfcose who toil.") A vacant mind is open to all sug gestions as a hollow mountain returns all sounds. When the tree is felled its shadow disappears. (Desertion of the great when unfortunate by parasites.) You cannot strip two skins off one cow. (A limit to extortion.) A man's words are like an arrow close to the mark, a woman's like a broken fan. The Chinese call a blustering fellow a paper tiger. Overdoing a thing —a hunchback making a bow. Who spend their charity on remote objects, but neglect their family, are said to "hang a lantern on apole.which is seen from afar, but gives no light below." The greater fish eat the smaller, the smaller eat theßhrimps,andtheshriru.7's i are obliged to eat mud; said with ref- i erence to rulers of different classes. Patience, and the, mulberry leaf be comes a silk gown. Trust not the flatterer; in thy days of sunshine he will give three pounds of butter, and in thy hour of need deny thee a crumb of bread. A woman's tongue is her sword, and she does not let it rust. LADIES DEPARTMENT. is - " c Fashion Notes. Trimmings and draperies, edged with j i chenille, produce a rich effect. ; j I/louse waists for children and young : 1 giuls never go entirely out of fashion. | Bonnet crowns completely shingled : i Mrith small feathers will be much worn- < Broad bands in Roman gilt with j ( centre ornaments are used for the front f of turbetiis. ' Fairy floss and pompadour wool are the mf>st popular materials for opera hoods and evening fascinators. Lisng French redingotes for street '; wear are made of stockinet, or Jersey j webbing, and trimed with wide bands j' of. fur. The French are combining drab and fcottle-green, and with bright accesso- . , ries the/c shades make very attractive costumes. Tho picturesque quaintness of chil dren's dresses, so popular during the ( summer and fall, is still more empha- ( sized this winter. j The newest turbans of folded cloth i or velvet are without brims, the folds , reaching down to the hair, and are ( witlvbut trimming. j The blouse waistcoat in colored s Surah on costumes of velvit and ot- ] totnan silk is a favorite and beautiful ( atyie for little girls. \ A silk handkerchief, close around . the throat, inside the wrap, is the , proper neckwear with a sealskin jacket, , or fur-lined garment. Brocaded flounces, with the figures , of velvet raised on repped silk, are the elegant trimmings for the fronts of trained dresses of silk or velvet. Black is the fashionable color for . stockiugs, both for ladies and children, j and black slippers and stockings are worn for full dress, whatever the color I of the toilet. . Woolen embroideries, executed with ] fine English crewels, imitate Decca j shawl work, but are much finer. The od-'eat have picturesque resemblances to , animals here and there among the !. arabesque patterns. I« Small ostrich tips of pale colors are j ( worn by matrons in full evening o» , dinner toilette this season, a costly j jewel ornament holding the quills in j place. A great deal of rich white lace t is worn. 1 Floral buckles are used to catch up 1 the folds of the drapery of evening I dresses. These buckles are large and ' square, and are made of cardboard coy- '' ered with silk; small flowers are then 1 sewed thickly upon them. ( Gold tinsel lace trims puffed white tulle skirts of ball dresses. The puffs ' of lace arranged alternately form the j' skirt over its silk lining. The pointed j' waist is of gold-colored satin edged at , the nerk and sleeves with lace. Some stylish boots of tan-colored . brocaded velvet have foxings of bronze kid. Nearly all dress fabrics are con sidered suitable for the tops of but- , toned boots, and each dress has its own pair of shoes where the coat is not an j objection. The most fashionable belts worn | with house dresses are quite narrow, ] and have long, slender buckles of ham- J mered silver, or else of steel overlaid l with a delicate vine of tinted metals. Buckles of Guadamaeile leather are worn upon the ribbed silk belting which cor.y>f with Paris dresses. For general wear, button boots con tinue to be made of French kid, and have either foxings of enameled leather or they are of the one material through out. For wet weather there are strong walking boots of pebble goat with a white sole distinguishing the English make, and red showing American man ufacture. 1 Aniifriiil Eyebrow. s«tv.,l to tbe Hkln. ] At a certain factory a number of s young women were working at small i tables, each table covered with little t instruments and things, the like of ( which I had never seen before. At one t table two girls were threading needles with fine, silky hair, and sewing them t lin little squares on a thin, transparent i gauze, i "Those girls," said the Professor, • "are making some of those beautiful arched eyebrows you may some time ] see in ballrooms. These sewed on the t net are the less expensive kind, and are j only used on special occasions. The \ real brow is very expensive, and cah 1 only be made by a person of great < I skill." I begged him to explain the operation of giving a person eyebrows who was born without them, and lead ing me into an elegantly furnished par lor in which was a large dentist's chair. ; he continued: "The patient sits here. In this ctfsh ion to my left are stuck a score or so of those needles you saw being thread ed. Each stitch only leaving two strands of hair, to facilitate the opera tion a number of needles must be at hand. As each thread of hair is drawn through the skin over the eye it is cut so that when the first stage of the I operation is over it leaves the hairs j bristling out an inch or so, presenting '< i a ragged, porcupine appearance. Now ; j comes the artistic work. The brow must be arched and cut down with the utmost delicacy, and a number of hours is required to do it." "It must be very painful and tedious ?" "They don't say that it is a picnic ex cursion," laughed the Professor: "but eyebrows, small as they are, are very important in the make up of the face. You have no idea how odd one looks when utterly demanded of hair over the eyes. The process I have described is painful, but it makes good eyebrows and adds one hundred per cent, to the looks of a person who was without them. It is, too, much better than the HaAening and cosmetics so many peo ple use. especially people who have mere presence of brows comprising only'a few hairs." "Do your sewed-through-the-skin eyebrows last V" , "For years." —New Orleans ricayone. The Longest Bridge. The longest bridge now in actual use I is the one that crosses the St. Lawrence | river at Montreal—a tubular structure resting on massive stone piers. One opening measures 330 feet, and twenty four others 240 feet each. Its total length is 9,437 feet, of which the tubu lar part measures 7,000 feet. The grandest suspension bridge in the j world is the one now nearly completed ' across the East river, between New York and Brooklyn, at the enormous cost of $13,708,026-, which will reach about $15,000,000 before it is finished and equipped. It is 5,989 feet in length. Another enormous suspension bridge, which will eventually measure more than the one just named, is the new bridge across the Forth, at Queensbury, Scotland, to be completed in 1882. The Forth is rather more than a mile wide at this point, and the necessary ap proaches will make the entire struc ture about one and one-third miles long. A large part of it will rest on piers, but it will contain two suspen sion spans, one of which will be the | same length as the main span of the New York and Brooklyn bridge. There is a bridge over the Ohio, at Louisville, 5,310 feet in length. There are the Barkersburg bridge, West Vir ginia, 7,046 feet; the St. Charles bridge, over the Missouri, 6,536 feet; bridge over the Delaware, 4,920 feet; bridge over the Rhine, at Mayence, 3,980 feet; bridge over the river Tongabudha, near Bombay, India, 3,730 feet; bridge across the Missouri, at Omaha, 2,800 feet; bridge over the Mississippi, at Quincy, 2,790 feet, and the railway suspension bridge, at Niagara, 2,220 feet. Protecting His Character. Entering the shop of his tailor the other day he said: "Sir, I owe you $60." "Yes, sir, you do." "And I have owed it for a year." "You have." "And this is the fifth postal card you have sent me regarding the debt." "I think it is the fifth." "Now, sir, while 1 cannot pay the debt for perhaps another year, I pro pose to protect my character as far as possible. Here are twelve two-cent stamps. You can use them in sending me twelve monthly statements of ac count, and can thus save your cards and my feelings at the same time." It is said that the tailor has credited the twenty-four cents on account, and feels that he has secured more of tho debt than he had any reason to hope for. There is many a soul trudging along life's pathway with weary, uncertain steps, sad and downhearted, who would, if there was a kind hand reached out to help them, walk erect and step lightly, and even sing while passing over rough places. Snonflakes, Falling all t!.e night-time. Falling all the Jfly. or7*t*d-wlnf»d nnd voirolff?*. Or. their doiraward way. falling through the darkness, Falling through tho light, Covc-riny with beauty Vale p.ud mountain height— Never fiimmcv blossoms Dwelt so fair as those; Never lay like glory On *!:e field? nnd tre*s. Rire thfl any wreathing. Deftly tamed the scroll. Hung btwoodland arches. Crowning meadow knoll. Freest, chastest, fancies, Votive art, may be, Winter's sculptors rear to Summer's memory. J. I* Cheney, in the Crt He. PUNMENT PARAGRAPHS. A play should be judged by its act*. Silence is the better part of some orator's eloquence. The man who lends his influence rarely gets it back. The meat dealer should be a rich man for hois always ready to make a steal;. The best time to offer your hand to a lady-—when she is getting out of an omnibus. Bow to destiny. One of these days destiny may be polite enough to return the compliment. The man who was hemmed in by a crowd has been troubled with a stitch in his side ever since. A new book is titled 'Short Savings of Great Men." When are we to havn "Great Savings of Short Men?" It takes a girl about four hours longer to Wash the front windows of a house than the back windows. So long as the school-teacher keeps the pupils in his eye nobody can deny that he has a perfect right to lash his pupils. Many a man who snals and growls at his wife in public is very loving and tender when no one else is around. He has to be. "Whistlers are always good-natured," saysn philosopher. Everybody knows that. It is the folks who have to listen to the whistling that get ugly. Somebody has discovered that the correct pronunciation of the word Khedive is "Kedowa." They might as well tell us that the proper way to pro nounce bee-hive is behowa. The town of Paris, Tex., has raised a potato five feet long. The Colorado beetle hasn't heard of that fashionable summer resort. When it does we shall read of a potato hug to match. Don't squander any time over pre historic man, but rather put in your spare hours wondering if the new family on the corner are the sort of people to lend coffee and sugar and baking powder. "Jones, if burglars should come into your house, what would you do?" "I'd do whatever they required of me. I never had my own way in that house yet, and it is too late to begin now— yes, alas ! it's too late 1" "What are you looking around for so much V" asked a mother of her sixteen year-old son, with whom she was walk ing. "I am looking around on your account." "On my account?" "Yes. I want to pick you out a good-looking daughter-in-law." The other day a stage driver in the Black Hills undertook to horsewhip the passengers into getting out of tho stage and pushing it up the hill, but the passengers emptied their revplvcrs into him a few times, held a coroner's inquest, and found that hi; had died of pneumonia. "1 declare," exclaimed a boarder at a dinner table recently, "this is the most affectionate pie lever saw." "Affection ate pie I" cried every one at the table, including the landlady. "Yes,"said the boarder, "the upper and lower crusts are so affectionate that they won't al low anything between them." At a dinner party the little son of the host and hostess was allowed to oome down to dessert. Having had what his mother considered a sufficiency jf fruit, he w;is told he must not have any more, when, to the surprice of every one of the guests, he exclaimed: "If you don't give me some more I'll tell!" A fresh supply was at once given hiui, and as soon as it was fln- F&hed tie repeated his threat; where upon h ■ wot suddenly und swiftly re moved from the room, but he had just time to convulse the company by «jc olii'" ..ng: "My new trousers are mad 9 on ~j |.. ; >\ ..'hi l,,'d! - '.MMii (urtainsj"