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Worcester daily press. [volume] (Worcester, Mass.) 1873-1878, April 07, 1873, Image 1

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EVERY MORNING, MUNDAY EXCEPTED,
—AT—
UH per annum; 7 a eta, per mouth.
£be Mttldy srt»s,
EVE R Y BATU KD A Y MORNING,
At 82 per anaunu
EDWARD R. FISKE & CO., Proprietors.
K. It. FIRKK. J. A. RPALPINO.
New Advertisements.
P R 1 N G TRADE.
Carpets!
R. B. HENCHMAN,
Han now in wtore a full aKHortiuontof every grade
of
BRUSSELS,
TAPESTRY,
INGRAINS, AC.,
WINDOW SHADES,
rugs,
MATS.
L(M)K AT MY
EXTRA BARGAINS!
Best Body Brussels
from 51.75 to 51.90 per yard.
English Tapestry
nt 81.25 per yard.
50 ROLLS
Straw Matting,
at 25c. per yard.
THE LARGEST ASSORTMENT OF
Oil Cloths
in this market, at the LOWEST PRICES, can lx?
found at
R. B. HENCHMAN’S,
No. 1 Fouler St., cor, Main,
al-tf
P I N E AR T 8 ’.
LOVERS OF THE FINE ARTS
will tind at my store one of the best collections of
Fine Steel Engravings; English, French,
German and American Chromes,
in Oil and Water Colors, to be found in New
England outside of Boston.
Stereoscopic Views,
Prangs’ Beautiful Productions
Photographs,
BRACKETS AND WOOD CARVINGS,
PICTURE FRAMES
MADE TO UKI.ER
from latest patterns of mouldings.
GOLD FRAMES, BLACK WALNUT, &C.,
of all desirable kinds. Picture Knobs, Cords and
like fixtures.
Particular attention given to re-gilding old
frames.
A. E. PECK, Art Dealer,
alts Lincoln House Block.
JJICE, WHITING & BULLOCK,
RANKERS.
Corner Main and Pearl Streets, Worcester,
Buy and sell Railroad, City and County Bonds.
Special attention given to orders for the pur
chase and sale of Stocks at NEW
YORK and BOSTON
BOARDS.
Agents for the Various Lines of
European Steamships.
Persons contemplating going abroad will find
at our office Cabin Plans of the Steamers of the
several Lines, thus enabling them to select and
secure rooms without the delay ami expense of
applying at the principal offices in New York or
Boston. Letters of Credit furnished available in
alt the principal cities of Europe.
Drafts Drawn Payable in any City in Europe.
tip-United States Passports procured without
charge. ts al
STRONG & ROGERS,
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL
DEALERS IN COAL,
Fire Brick, Clay and Kaolin.
Office, No. 4:10 Main St.,
ai dtf WORCESTER, Mass.
JOSEPH CHASE & CO.,
375 MAIN STREET.
F. E. Smith’s & Co.’s Crushed Wheat, delicious
and nourishing.
The best Canada, Scotch and Irish Oat Meal.
Baltimore pure Hominy and Meal.
S. G. Bowdiear’s Maize Meal. Try it.
PURE SPICES.
The best Teas and Coffee to be found in the city.
Pullna and Seltzer Waters, warranted genuine,
al 3m
QLD GOV’T. JAVA COFFEE,
3 rounds SI.OO.
Bi l t Black Oolong Tea per lb., - -90 c.
Best Uncolored Japan Tea per lb., - SI 00
Other goods in proportion.
Enterprise Tea Co.,
al I2t No. 540 Main Street.
n . J O U R D A N,
Wholesale and Retail Dealer in
ANTHRACITE AND BITUMINOUS
COAL.
OFFICE: I YARD:
S Lincoln Block, I Green Street.
WORCESTER, MASS.
alts
_ At FULLER’S Coal Yard,
Buv Coal black and hard,
vises' To keep the fire bright
Bv day and by night.
’Th better than gold
To keep out the cold.
Softer coal for the cook
Will do like a book.
fpHE CENTRAL STREET COAL
A YARD, is in a central location, easy of ac
cess, near Main street, and there is kept constant
ly <in hand and for sale
Franklin and Chestnut Coal I
Lehigh Coal, Four Different Sizes, for
Stoves and Furnaces!
RUFUS FULLER.
alts
ARTIN KELLEY,
FASIHONADLK
Boot and Shoe Maker.
Repairing Neatly Done.
No. 398 Main Street, - - Worcester Mass.
a2dtf
Mnwter Bait® Press.
VOL. I, NO. 0.
New Advertisements.
JUS T OP E N E 1» I
01)11 SPRING ASSORTMENT OF
< ’I A )TI IH
FOII Ol'll
CUSTOM DEPARTMENT,
In the choicest varicth s of Foreign ami Domestic
manufacture.
The reputation of our house for lino garment*
is well known, and all desiring to h ave their or
ders will do well to call early before the rush com
mences.
D. H. EAMES & CO.,
One Prlee CMhiers,
CORNER MAIN AND FRONT STREETS,
•I WORCESTKH, MASS. Uly
SPK I N G
over Coats,
NOW’ READY',
A good assortment of the most approved styles.
Prices from 8 J to 820.
Spring Suits
Foil
GENTS AND BOYS
In all varieties and prices, now in stock, at
D. H. EAMES & CO.’S
One Price Clothing House,
CORNER MAIN AND FRONT STREETS,
al WORCESTER, MASS. dly
^y E O F FER TO-DAY,
465
PAIRS ALL WOOL CAKSISI ERE PANTS
AT ONLY
$5.00
A PAIR, FORMER PRICES FROM SIX TO
EIGHT DOLLARS. THIS IS EESS Til IN
THE CLOTH IS WORTH. WE BOUGHT
THESE IN A JOB LOT, AND GIVE OUR
CUSTOMERS THE ADVANTAGE OE IT.
WE ALSO OFFER TWO lit NDRED COATS
AND ONE HI NDRED AND FIFTY VESTS,
AT EQUALLY LOW PRICES.
D. H. EAMES & CO.
a» <lly
]£N OWLTON BROTHERS,
NO. 282 MAIN STREET,
WE AKE RECEIVING
Sprint/ Importations of
CROCKERY,
FRENCH CHINA,
FINE CRYSTAL GOODS, *
BRONZES, CLOCKS, &c.,
direct from Manufacturers, thereby enabling us t
to sell our Goods as low as any house in the
country. Our stock of
SOLID SILVER AND PLATED
WARES, CUTLERY,
Lamp Goods and Gas Fixtures
IS COMPLETE IN EACH DEPARTMENT,
And will Bear Close Inspection.
Orders from country trade promptly attended
to.
Knowlton Brothers,
282 MAIN STREET,
alts Opposite Bay State House.
E W E N G LAND
Concrete and Roofing Co.
CONCRETE
Walks, driveways, ground floors, &e., by a com
bination of the important features of the most
approved methods. Scrimshaw's. Ford A: Moor's,
Snow & Davis’ ami the Latham patents have been
purchased by this company, and no expense or i
pains have been spared to qualify them to pro
duce the most perfect bituminous concrete Jhat
can be made.
GRAVEL ROOFING,
Of best material, and applied with superior skill.
Ready Roofing, Widely and Favorably Known.
SHINGLE PAINT,
Shingle paint is great economy. If taken in time
no money for repairs is so judiciously expended.
ROOF PAINTING IN OIL OF ANY COLOR,
Ornamental or plain. Painting confined exclu
sively to roofs. By making roof painting a speci
alty we can do it 20 per cent, cheaper than any
other parties.
Shingle Paint for Tin has no rival. Concrete
and Rooting Materials for sale,
In quantities not less than 40 galions at manu
facturers’ prices. Raw and Distilled Tar, Black
Varnish, Asphalt, Pitch, Dead Oils, Napthas, and
every form of Bitumen.
OFFICES—3OO Southbrhlge St., 20 Pleasant
St., at Knowlton & Baron’s Paper Store.
P. O. BOX 285, WORCESTER, M ASS.
T. C. Rice. - - L orin Foskit.
Concrete \
Having disposed of mv interest in the Concrete
Bossiness to Messrs Rit'E FOSKIT, of this
city, 1 take pleasure in reeom numding them to
tho patronage of myoid custoir.ers and the public
generally.
al dim J. J. RANDALL.
G. II I L 1) R E T II
" Would respectfully inform the citizens of
Worcester and vicinity’that Im* is still engaged
in the business of undertaking, as heretofore,
although entirely disconnected from Air. 11. C.
Willson, his former partner. 1 Lis present place of
business is at No. 15 Waldo street, first door
north of Waldo House. Orders left at Ne. 7
Waldo street. Residence No. 32 Oread street.
al d3m
OHICKERING & SONS’
CELEBRATED PIANOS,
FROM 8425 ITWAIiUS.
The Best in tb.e Market.
— AT —
S. R. LELAND & CO.’S.
JJALLETT r DAVIS & CO.,
HAYNES BROS., HALLETT & CUMSTON,
And Other Noted Pianos,
at prices that defy competition, at
S. It. LELAND & CO.’S.
IVEW ROSEWOOD 7-OCTAVE
PIANOS,
From 8300 Upwards,
— AT —
S. R. LELAND & CO.’S.
MASON & HAMLIN? BURDETT
■L’A ORGAN CO.,
Smith American Organ,
Ami Other Organs, from 87X00 Upwards.
— AT —
S. 11. LELAND & CO.’S.
-piANOS AND ORGANS SOLD ON
A EASY .MONTHLY PAYMENTS,
— AT —
S. It. LELAND & CO.’S.
PIANOS TUNED, REPAIRED,
POLISHED AND MOVED.
Work Guaranteed.
— AT —
ally S. It. LELAND & CO.’S.
WORCESTER, MASS., MONDAY MORNING, APRIL 7, 1873.
New Advertisements.
J H. CLARK & CO.
would invite the attention of their customers and
the public to their largo stock of
NEW DRY GOODS
— FOR THE —
— TRADE.
ATTENTION is SPECIALLY INVITED to our
Superior Stock of Black Silks.
We have all grades from $1.25(f0r the chea|n*st
silk in this city i and upwards, that for real value
cannot bv surpabsed in this city, Boston or New
STRIPE SILKS
arc much cheaper this spring. We have a large
stock in
WHITE GROUNDS,
with hair lines and fancy stripes.
Black Grounds,
with white stripes,
GREY GROUNDS,
with black stripes, and many other styles and
colors, at from r_” 2 t025 cents a yard less than
last season’s; rices.
Black Brillantiiieß,
Black Mohairs,
Black Alpacas.
Wp have the same superior makes in these
goods that have given perfect satisfaction to
our customers for two years. Selling at satis
factory prices.
10 Ps. Black Cashmere and Hen
rietta Cloths,
JUST RECEIVED.
Netv Goods Opening
Daily.
OUR STOCK OF WOOLLENS, LINEN GOODS
AND DOMESTICS LARGE AND FULL,
AND PRICES WILL BE
FOUND LOW.
J. H. CLARKE & CO.,
al 5t 353 Main St.
4 T CHAMPION’S KITCHEN
>- STORE,
No. 13 Pleasant Street, (North Side,)
You can find a great variety of the most useful
goods, consisting in part us
Clothes ami Reels, Wringers, Baskets,
Lines, Wash Tubs, Clothes Frames, Wash
Benches, Rolling Pins ami Molding Boards,
Chopping Trays, Pails, Tin Ware, &«., &c.
Call and see for yourselves. Goods at low
PKK'ES.
R. CHAMPION.
al eodlw
ESTABLISHED A. D. 1850.
R. McALEER
Successor to D. Brown,
Manufacturer of
Fine Harness
AND DEALER IN FIRST CLASS
Stableand Carriage Goods,
228 Main St.
_a Idtf
yy A T CHES!’.
• My life work has been the manufacture, sale
and' repair of Watches. If this experience, to
gvther with a large and carefully selected
STOCK OF WATCHES
Bought, not on Credit, but for Cash, my intimate
connection with the largest Manufacturing and
Importing Houses in the country, and my very
small store expenses, are of any advantage to
me, I am abundantly able to make it so to my
patrons.
Mv unexpected success in my new enterprise
has encouraged me to fill my store with a com
plete stock of
Genuine Waltham Watches,
And to resume the sale of
Celebrated Chas. E. Jacot (Swiss) Watches,
(Having introduced them into Worcester when at
tin* old stand), and a fine stock of LADIES AND
GENTS’ (SOLD CHAINS, RINGS, STUDS, BUT
TONS. SETS, LOCKETS, &c., Jtc. This stock
w ill bear inspection as to price and quality.
I solicit tine ami difficult Watch Work, ami shall
take no more than I find time to do with my own
hands.
IBA G. BLAKE,
Formerly Superintendent of Watchmakers’ De
partment at Waltham Factory, and Manager of
the Watch Department in the late firm of Blake
& Robinson.
480 MAIN STREET, opposite the Common,
ally
JEORGE R. SPURR,
DEALER IX
DRUGS, MEDICINES, CHEMICALS,
FERFUMERY,
Soaps, Brusli«*s, Patent Medicines, Pure
Wines and Liquors for Medicinal Pur
poses. Agents for the Great Uniteri
States Tea Company.
337 Main St., Worcester, Mass.
Phvsicians Prescriptions Carefully Compounded
a iff at all hours.
OMST OC K & EVE B E T T,
Wholesale Dealers in
Pork, T.ard and Hams, Poultry, Sausages and I
Dressed Hogs. ITiccs as low as any house in
New England.
No. 21 Soutlibridg’e Street.
JAMES K. COMSTOCK,
EDWARD S. EVERETT.
Worcester. April I,l«ra. al jliwlw
VGG S ! BUY THE BEST!
The best Eggs to hatch are from
Healthy Thoroughbred.
FOWLS,
whether they are awarded first premiums or not.
I elaim lo have the largest and best collection of
Thoroughbred BroWn Leghorn Fowls of any man
in the world; legs free from disease, and the
fowls pefectly healthy. Circulars on application.
FRANK J. KINNEY,
No. 3 Olean st., Worcester, Mass,
al dTuTStniA w4t [Tatnuek.]
4 V EBY DAVIS,
413 Main street, Worcester.
The public are invited to my spring opening of
piece goods for
CUSTOM GARMENTS,
Fine Furnishing Goods and Ready Made Cloth
ing. which is complete in all the latest styles and
novelties.
FINE SHIRTS
inanil tn meamire and warranted. I’attcrna cut.
Cloths sold by the yard and cut to measure n
desired. _ d
Ji O R SALE,
Clothing, Hats, Caps, Furnishing Goods, Boots
ami Shoes, &c., &e.
The subscriber wishes to sell his entire stock at
once. Terms reasonable. A good chance. Kent
low. K. MONTAGI E,
NorthlMiro’, March 25,1873. «t-al
DH. WHITTEMORE’S MEAT
• CUTTER will cut two pounds of Pie Meat in
one miirntc ami Hash for the Family in one halt a
minute. Works extremely easy. Sells for S 3.
May be taken on trial at &7V Alain st. al jlm
gh^
MONDAY MOKNING, APKIL 7.
THE ROBIN.
BV JOHN G. WHITTIER.
My old Welch neighbor over the way
Crept slowly out in the sun of spring,
Pushed from her cars the locks of gray,
And listened to hear the robin >dng.
Her grandson, playing at marbles, stopped,
And cruel in sport, mm buys will be,
Tossed a stone at the bird, who hopped
From trough to bough in the apple tree.
“Nay I” said the grandmother,“have you not heard,
My poor bail ls>y I of the fiery pit,
And how, drop by drop, this merciful bird
Carries the water that quenches it?
Hu brings cool dew in his little bill,
And lets it fall on the souls of sin;
You can see the mark on his red breast st ill
Of fires that scorch as he drops it in.
My poor Bron rhuddyn! my breast-burned bird,
Singing so sweetly from limb to limb,
Very dear to the heart of our Lonl
Is he who pities the lost like Him!*'
“Amen!" I said to the beautiful myth:
“Sing, bird of God, in my heart as well:
Each good thought is a drop wherewith
To cool and lessen the fires of hell.
Prayers of love like raindrops fall,
Tears of pity are cooling dew,
And dear to the heart of our Lord are afl
Who suffer like Him in the gooil they do!”
UNASKED.
White as the snow is the garment I’m making;
Fleecy and filmy, and foamy, and firn*,
And every stitch that my needle is taking
Pierces ami tortures this sad heart of mine.
There is mirth and music to-day in the palace-
To-morrow the liells will be ringing with glee;
And robed in this garment, the fair lady Alice
Will wed with Duke Harold. Ah, woe is me.
It is not strange that the tender young blossom
Wakens to life 'neath the spring’s balmy skies;
It is, then, strange if, within the maiden’s bosom,
I»ve wakes unasked in the light of dark eyes?
He was as far as the heavens above me,
King of my castle ami night of dreams;
I never thought—never hoped he could love me,
Yet I’m sewing my heart piece by piece in these
scams.
Sitting an<l sewing through long summer hours
Here at my window I watched him pass by;
Sometimes he’d toss me a bouquet of flowers,
With a kind, pleasant glance from his bonny
black eye;
Sowetimes he’d bring me a bundle of sewing,
Anri lean in the window a moment to rest;
Then off to the hunt, or the chase, little knowing
The love and the passion that raged in my breast.
1 kept each bud, like the gift of a lover,
I keep them still, they are dearer than gold;
I lived our moments of meeting all over
Again and again, ami they never were old.
To-morrow the bells all will ring for his marriage,
J pray the skies may hold never a cloud;
He will pass by with his bride in the carriage—
Would to God this robe were my bridal shroud.
MISCELLANY.
MILLY MORE’S LETTER.
I'm Aunty Gunter. Job Gunter is my
husband. We keep the Anchor Port post
office and a store, and sell groceries and gar
den sass, calico, shoes and medicines, like
other folks in mir lino, when anybody
for ’em.
When the ships come in, and the sailors
come home to their wives and mothers,
trade goes brisk. The housekeejiers do their
best, and the raisins and dried currants, am!
eggsand butter, go off finely, and its worth
while to lay in ribbons for the girls, and
smoking tobacco and long pipes for the men.
Jack and his wagits make old Anchor Port
brisk for a while, but at last he sails away,
and all the women seem to ask for will be
letters, letters, letters, letters, when they
have a right to exjiect them, and when they
haven’t all the same.
It’s '‘Please, Aunty Gunter, look over
them, and see if there aren’t one for me;”
and it's “Please Uncle Gunter, it might have
got mixed up and overlooked shomehow;"
often and often—God help the poor souls’—
after Jack lies at the bottom of the sea, and
nothing will ever reach them but the news
of his shipwreck. But plenty of letters come
after all, and sometimes we have to read them
for the folks, Job and I, and so we get to
know something of their lives.
Milly More could read and write herself,
but still I always knew when she had a letter
from Will Masset. I knew it by the hand
writing, and I knew it by her blushes, and
by that happy look in her face. When he
came home, she bought ribbon!* and bits of
lace by the apronful; and I knew where the
packages of candy that he bought were to go.
And I used to keep Job from fishing down
in the Pullman creek of afternoons, because*
I knew that was where Milly and Will liked
to walk. Courting time comes but once in
lifetime, and I always like to see it prosper.
At last he sailed away, second mate of the
Golden Dove, and when he came back from
that voyage they were to lx* married.
It was a sad day when that ship sailed.
Mrs. Captain Rawdon and her girls were
crying from the shore. Twenty women from
the Port ami five from the Hill were there
to see it set sail.
It was a grim day, and the voyage was to
be a long one.
It was under an old sycamore that Will
took Milly to his breast.
“Don’t fret, darling,” he said, “I'll come
back safe and sound. I couldn't drown now:
I’ve too much to live for.”
Poor boy! in spite of that, the Golden
Dove went down in mid-seas, and only three
men reached Anchor Port to tell how Cap-
I tain Rawdon and the rest were lost, at dead
of night, in a most woeful storm.
Captain Kincaid brought the news to Mrs.
Rawdon. lie’stopped at our store to tell
about it. A nice old man; a bachelor still,
at fifty-eight, and as handsome, with his
white hair and red cheeks, as a picture.
That was twelve months ago, the night I
went into the store to sort things out, as I
always did Saturday nights. Through the
week Job used to get everything mixed up
letters in my tea boxes, candles in the letter
l)ox, eggs where they oughtn’t to be, and all
the place askew. It was a warm autumn
night, and Captain Kincaid’s vessel was in
port, and we had plenty of custom. Job
served the ]K*ople while I tidied up. 1 found
half the last mail in the sugar box and
clothes pins in the ground coffee canister,
and I just dumped them out.
“Gather up your letters, Job,” said I.
“What possesses you, old man?”
And he laughed and piled 'em up. And I
made a vow to myself that I'd keep the sugar
box full, after that, so that he shouldn’t use
it for the mail.
I had twenty-four pounds of sugar known
as “coffee crushed,” because it was prepared
especially to use in coffee. That was the
finest sugar Anchor Hiil folks often bought,
though I had a little cut and powdered by me
in case Mrs. Rawdon, or Mis. Dr. Speer, or.
the minister’s lady should send in; and 1
took the pap<T up and tilted over the japan
ned box, pouring it in a nice, smooth stream,
when who should come in but Milly More.
She was not dressed carefully, and her eyes
were red with crying, She asked for some
tea, and while Job was weighing it she whis
pered to me:
“Qh, Aunty Gunter, have you looked to-
day? Isn’t there a letter from Will? He
said he couldn’t die. I don’t feel ns if he
could. Mightn't he write, after all? Do
look.
“My pet,” says I, “it’s a year ago that the
Golden Dove went down. It isn't likely.
And He don’t let those live that want to al
ways. It Isn’t likely, dear, but I’ll look.”
1 took the letters in my hand, one by one.
Many of them would make hearts glad Ir*-
for<* the shutters were up that night, but
none for Milly, of course.
I told her so, but I took her into my little
back parlor, and made her sit down then*,
1 talked as good as I could toher, but what
good does talking do?
“Oh, Aunty,” says she, “I know it seems
as if I was a fool, but I waked up hoping this
morning. I don’t believe he is gone. I can’t,
I can't.”
“When baby died—the only one we ever
had—l thought I never should believe it,”
sai<l I. “But I had Job. and you have your
mother and sister Milly.”
Al that she burst into tears, and 1 put her
head down on my knee.
“I must tell you,” said she. “They want
me to marry Captain Kincaid. He's court
ing me. He fell in love with me the night he
brought the news to Mrs. Captain Rawdon:
I was there sewing and heard it all. Oh, how
cruel to fall in love with a poor girl at such a
time. And he asks me to Ik* his wife.. And
mother and Fanny shall always have a home,
he says, and you know how ]ioor we are. And
they are angry at me for saying no. And how
can I. how can 1, when my heart is in the
sea with Willie?”
“Captain Kincaid!” I said, and I couldn't
say any more; she took my breath away.
She was a nice, pretty girb; but the Captain
was rich, elegant ami stylish. An old family
he came of, too. It was an honor for Milly
More.
^•'Not just yet,” said I after a while.
“Perhaps you'll feel better. lie's old, I
know, but he's a splendid man.”
“You, too!” she said. “You, too! No
body understands. Il isn't as if I had made
up my mind, like all the rest. Will will al
ways be a living man, to m - mind. I don't
thjnk any one ever loved but me. Nobody
understands —nobody.”
■“I kissed her and coaxed her, and I said
no won 1 about her changing her mind: but
for all that I kept thinking of it in a kind of
maze.
“Captain Kincaid! Such a gentleman as
that! Old as he was, could she fail to see
the honor?
But when I told Job says he:
‘•Jerusalem! a young, pretty girl like
Milly! Why don’t he go after some witldiT.
or an oldish gal? Milly is too young for
him. Poor! What a pity! They just
suited each other.”
I couldn’t help it, though Mrs. Captain
Kincaid would hav<* things that Milly More
could never think of—silk dresses and velvet
cloaks, jewelry, and stuffed chairs in her
best rooms, a silver ice-pitcher, if she chose,
like Mrs. Captain Rawdon. She might have
a carriage, too, and a pair of ponies. And I
liked Milly, and wouldn’t have envied her
luck one bit ami I didn't Yonder al Mrs.
More and Fanny.
Once having given me her confidence,
Milly didn't slop; and Mrs. More came over
to talk about it. too, until at last I fairly up
and sided with the old lady.
“Milly,” says I, “Will is gone, and you
aren't his widow, to wear weeds all your
life—not that many do, if they can help it,
it seems to me—ami Captain Kincaid is as
good as man can be, and .you will be happy
with him. You can’t help loving him as
much as there’s any need to love.”
After that she stopped talking much tome.
She used to give me strange looks, though.
I knew all about it. 1 knew that her heart
was in the sea; but Will was gone, and why
should she refuse what Providence offered?
The Captain staid at the Port three
months, and al length we worried her into
promising to be his wife—old Mrs. More,
Fanny and I. She just gave up at last.
“It don’t matter much, after all,” she
said. “I must be going out of my mind, for
1 never can stop watching and hoping. I
shall die soon, I suppose, whether 1 marry
or not.”
After that she never spoke of Will, and
Mrs. More told me she was engaged; ami
she wore a diamond ring on her finger. And
the day before the ship sailed she was to
marry Capt. Kincaid, so that she might go to
Eurojie with him.
A year and three months since the Golden
Dove went down. Well, no one can tell
what changes a little while will bring. 1
used to hope that 1 hadn’t in it. after all.
when I thought it over, and remembered
l>oor Will, when he took her in his arms
under the sycamore.
But then you see, Mrs. More’s sight had
failed so that she couldn’t do line sewing,
and Fanny wasn't of much account, except
to look at. It was a hard life that lay before
Milly. It was good for her to marry Capt.
Kincaid a:»d have comfort, wasn't it?
••To-morrow is the wedding,” said I to
Job. “It’s going to be in the church. Miss
Salsbury is finishing my silver-gray poplin.
It sets splendid. We’ll have Ben Barnes in
to keep store, and go, won’t we? You'll like
to see Milly oil, won't you?”
“1 wish it was Will Massett,” said Job.
“Poor Will,” said I, and went on tidying,
though it was Friday, as I should be so
busy the next day. I got out my big paper
of sugar, and I got down my japanned sugar
box, never yet empty since the day I filled it
up. And then Job, sorting the letters,
looked up at me.
“Never begrudged you anything so much
as I do that box,” says he.
“Best thing I ever put mail into. This
here wooden thing with a slide is a pesky
bother.”
“Law me!” says I, “if I’d knowed you
wanted it you should have had it. I didn t
think you had any plan in it; jest stick ’em
anywhere; I thought you would. I’ll empty
the box: I've got one that'll do. And I’m
glad you spoke before I filled it up.”
So with that I spread a big pajK*r on the
counter and emptied out the sugar.
It had packed a little, and came out in a
sort of cake. There it laid, white and shiny,
and on the top of it, whiter ami shinier, laid
a letter—a letter with a ship mark upon it,
and this superscription:
“Miss Milly More,
Anchor Point, Maine.
United States of America.”
Three months ago—poor stupid —I had
emptied my best coffee crushed in upon it,
and there it was.
Three months ago she luul come down to
me and asked for a letter, and I’d thought
her half crazy: and I’d have given more
money than there was in the till to have
dared to tear that letter open on the spot
and read it, though I knew the hand was
Will Masset’s.
“This can’t wait,” says I.
“No, says Job, “it can't with that wed
ding coming off to-morrow.
Then I stopped and thought. Ix*t it lie un
til it is called for, and she'll be Mrs. Captain
Kincaid, with her silks and her velvet and
her fine house and her carriage, all the same,
this comes from a shipwrecked sailor, poor
er now than when he went away.
“Perhaps I'd better wait until the wed
ding is over. Job,” said I.
Ami my old man came across the room,
and put his arm alMUit my waist.
“Nancy,” says he, “you and I was young
folks once. 1 uno<l to think Homvthing was
belter than money and fine doings then.
And though we old folks may get a little
hard—though to Im? up in the world seems ho
much, and all that Hweetness so silly, why,
it will come back sometimes. You reinem
ber how he kissed her under the sycamore;
and, Nancy, we couldn't wait until after the
wedding, cither of us.”
I put my arms about Job’s neck, and I kiss
ed him; and then I got my sunbonnct ami
ran over to Mrs. More’s.
Captain Kincaid was there. I stood at the
door, with the letter behind my back.
“Won’t you walk in?” says Mrs. More. ’
“I—l haven’t time,” says I, “It’s only an
errand, it’s a little singular. Milly, there’s
a—a —”
“My letter! my letter!” cried Milly. “It
has come at last.”
How she knew it Heaven knows. She
hadn’t had a glimpse of it.
It was the old sailor’s story—a shipwreck,
a deserted island, wretched months spent in
hoping for Huccor»and a sail at last. A ves
sel outward bound luul picked him up. lie
would be home in three months.
“Three months!” said Milly. “Oh, can I
wait?”
And then says I:
“Milly, forgive a poor old stupid gnoae.
This letter has lieen lying under my best
coffee crushed three months and a day; and
there’s a vessel in the oiling now.”
So it was Will, after all, and -Job and I
went to the wedding with happy hearts. And
no need to pity Captain Kincaid, either, for
he married Fanny More before the year was
out.
OUR RAILROAD SYSTEM.
Our railroad system may Im* said to have
begun in the year 1827. In 1829 twenty-five
miles were added, and in the years 18:10
and 1831 twenty-six miles mon* were built,
ami it was not until 1850 that the yearly in
crease of roads reached a thousand miles.
At that period—only twenty-two years ago—
the whole length of roads in operation was ’
9,021 miles. Now the total for the country
is over 75,000 miles, with an average yearly
increase for the last five years of 5,000 miles.
If this rate is maintained to the end of the
century—as then* is every reason to believe
it will be—we shall then have over 200,000
miles of railway. The aggregate cost thus
far is variously stated in round numbers at
from $3,000,000,000 to $3,500,000,000. The
amount is several hundred millions larger
than our national debt at its greatest, but
the figures of both are sufficiently near to
be quite suggestive on the different ways of
spending money.
The. importance of our railroads as
thoroughfares of travel, as carriers and dis
tributors of products, and as a means of de
veloping the country, transcends all calcula
tion. —we might sav the imagi noHon I
It is estimated, for instance, that the freight
transiMHted by the railways of this country
amount annually to $15,000,000,000, or
nearly six times the sum of the national
debt at its height. This stupendous move
ment goes on with the regularity of clock
work in all seasons, without regard to water
courses and other natural lines of inter
communication, and across even the most
formidable barriers of travel. What an ele
ment of stability in production, distribution
ami consumption we have here! The lo
cality that was “out of the world” is pierced
by the highways of commerce, the area of
perishable, commodities, and ephemeral
transactions is indefinitely enlarged, and it
may well be doubted whether the United
Slates would not have outgrown the cohe
sive principle and of their political institu
tions, and fallen assunder years ago, but for
these iron bands that wed ocean to
ocean, and bring the remotest commercial
ends of the continent together. Our rail
road system is declared to Im* yet in infancy,
and yet these are its triumphs already
achieved. Great cities have sprung up at its
bidding, and the surest way to guage the
prosperity*of a State is to count its railroads.
Accordingly, while we see that Massachu
setts has the greatest number of miles of
territory, Illinois had the greatest length of
track last year, (over 6,900 miles,) having
passed Pennsylvania in 1870. The States
next in order are New York, Ohio and
Indiana, followed by lowa, Missouri and
Georgia.
But there is another side to the history of
railroads in this country. Some of their
greatest, though not most reputable engin
eering feats, have been accomplished in our
money markets, in our courts, and in our
legislatures. So domineering, exacting and
oppressive have they grown toward the in
dustrial interests of the country, that the
product that should deposit a profit in all
hands through which its passage from the
producer to the consumer, is almost eaten
up lM*fore it gets into market, by the exces
sive cost of its transportation. The great
problem of the age, therefore, is how to con
trol legislatively jhat which actually, in
nate these dangerous and unscrupulous
corporations to the will and well-being of
the “sovereign people.” It is very likely
many eases controls legislation; and sulMirdi
that if our fathers had the growth of this
enormous system, they would have estab
lished a constitutional principle for its regu
lation. As it is, however, the question is to
Im* solved by this generation. It is the
chronic problem of our political future. The
outcry for the overthrow of this system of
railroad despotism is already too loud and
penetrating, to lx* any longer disregarded.—
Monticello (Iowa) Express.
One would suppose that the obstacles to
the complete opening of all the Japanese
ju>rts to foreign commerce were very slight.
It is now said that the whole question binges
on the willingness of the foreigners to*sub
mit to the local laws. That requirement is
certainly a reasonable one, though some of
the Japanese laws are curiously oppressive
in their exactions. Japan will have a na
tional code before long, however. It is now
said that the Mikado has been examining a
system based on the Code Napoleon. That
he rejected this need not discourage the hope
that laws which can be made just and equit
able to foreigners and natives alike will be
finally adopted in the reorgiuiized empire—
AT. Y. Tribune.
In Mrs. Stowe’s Florida book, Palmetto
Leatesy a curious fact is stated in regard to
IK*aches. Trees from the north retain their
northern habit so obstinately that .they can
not Im* made to observe the Florida times and
seasons for blooming and bearing fruit.
“We set a peach orchard of four hundred
trees,” she says; “the trees came from the
north, and year after year, when all nature
about them is bursting into leaf and blossom,
when peaches of good size gem the boughs
of the Florida trees, our peach orchard
stands sullen and leafless; nor will it start,
bud or blossom till the time for |ieaches to
start in New York.”
PRICE 3 CENTS.
FUN WRITING AND WIT.
Conde writing, like skating, seems a very
easy thing to do. The careless insouciance
of the style, the lightness of the matter, the
off-hand, spontaneous character of this kind
of composition, make it seem as easy as blow
ing soup bubbles. Those who read it areapt
to entertain a rather eont<*mptuous idea of
the thing as brain work, and imagine they
could do quite as well, or better. It is only
when they attempt it that they find out the
difference between easy reading and easy
writing, and learn that in literature as in
dress, the studied negligence of demi-toilette
requires more art than full costume. But the
art must Is* well disguised. The moment
there is a suspicion of elaboration, or of starch
or stilts, then the laugh dies a premature
death. But care must in all cusps be taken
that ease d<M*s not degenerate into slipshod
slackness, nor happy audacity into coarse
ness. Comic writing require also simplicity
of expression and a terse, epigrammatic
style, for the best jokes an* weakened if we
must peer through a cloud of words to dis
cover the point And all this refers only to
the mode of expression—the outer hull—but
unless there is a sound kernel of humor with
in, the joke will not be worth cracking. So
comic writing is not so easy as it seems, and
if the fun making talent is not inherent,
then mauling rails or reading Mr. ’s
novels through without skipping is a light
pastime compared to it. Yet the great cor
poration of Goosequill embraces many such
regular ticklers of the public mid-rib and
scores of pens are employed in filling the
comic papers, comic almanacs and the
jokers’ column of weekly ami daily journals
with wit, or what purports to be wit.
It is consoling to know that these are al
ways sure of readers. There will always lx*
a large class who go to the play for the sake
of the farce, and who seize upon the funny
column of a newspaper first of all. and pe
ruse it to themselves with quiet grins of ap
preciation, or aloud to their friends (if socially
Inclined) with guffaws of enjoyment. Hood,
and Lamb, and Maginn wrote for the hu
morous columns of their day; and Elia, in
his inimitable way, gives us a picture of
himself ekeing out his slender salary by man
ufacturing witticisms for the Morning Post i
at a penny a joke. Writing them, too, at 5 j
o’clock in the morning, without so much as
the stimulating cup of bohea, that was so !
dear to the wags of that period. Had he
only had a cup of the genuine case noir, one
cannot help fancying that the jokes wonld
have been of lx*tter quality than they really
wen*, if we judge by that one specimen alxuit
the “pink stockings,” which he has given us
as the lx*st of the batch. Such as they are. he
frankly owns they cost him a deal of trouble,
and one can imagine him savagely scratching
his head over their concoction, as was said
to be his habit when composing. And par
parenthese, I remember noticing when a
child that every circus clown I chanced to
see had a bald head, and wondering if this
was the normal condition of clowns, or if i
they rublied their pates bald in their efforts j
to originate funny things. Poor motley
IrntohtM rJ ♦>»» saw<li»«» rin?! 'l’her earn
their wages without doubt, having to make
people laugh as a business, when often, most
likely, their own hearts are heavy enough.
But the jokes of the Charles Lamb period,
and of an era preceding it, consisted princi
pally of quaint conceits that sound affected
and far-fetched at this day, for fun has its
phases and fashions as well as anything else.
The quirks and quibbles, and plays upon
words, that constituted wit in the Eliza
bethan era would hardly b 3 tolerated now.
The old British dramatists (Shak<*speare not
excepted) must have used up a deal of good
brain material in originating the smart say
ings and quibbling retorts of their dramatis
persons, which are now l<x>ked upon as
blemishes rather than beauties, and usually
omitted in stage representations. For one
thing, they are by no means delicate, or
even decent. They jar upon the nuxlern
sense of refinement, and smack of the pot
house or the kitchen. They contain double
meanings ami coarse allusions that would
not lx* relished by the least fastidious among
a modem audience. But the rouged and
diamonded court belles of that day listened
to those not only with complacency but
with applause. From which it apjx*ars, that
though melancholy moralists groan over the
degeneracy of the day, and sigh for the
“gotsl old times,” yet, in most respects, we
are better than our ancestors. If not more
modest in fact, we are certainly so in apjx’ar
ance. The truth is, there is not so much
evil abroad as police report would have us
believe. The people of the “good old times”
covered up their wicked deeds with darkness
and silence; ours are trumped abroad by the
thousand-tongued press, while sensational
artists and reports show them up in the high
colors of imagination. Progress has set a
sentinel line of telegraph around the world,
and the press has lit a watch-fire upon every
height of civilization. There is not more
wickedness than of old, then* is only more
light.— N. O. Picayune.
A Woman with a Penchant for Di-
VOBCES. —A queer story Is told of two pros
)x*rous merchants in West Broadway. One
of them was married, rather late in life,
some two years ago. ami, after he ami his
wife had gone to housekeeping, he invited
his fellow-merchant to pay him a visit. The
latter went, and was much pleased with the
new wife, who apix*ared to be very young.
They grew to lx* firm friends. He told her
he could not resist the conviction that he
had seen her befon*. at which she laughed,
and said that she was the impression ob
tained from all sympathetic natures. Their
cordial relations continued for a g<xxl while,
and, one day, the mercantile admin*r re
ceived a letter from an intimate in Boston,
informing him that his friend had, some
time Wore, married an eccentric woman,
Mrs. , who had the reputation of being
several times divorced. This set the ad
mirer to thinking and tracing out circum
stances within his knowledge. The result
was he discovered that ■ 1 the wife
of his friend had, seven years Wore, been
his own wife, from whom he had obtained a
legal divorce, for g<xxt and sufficient reasons,
six months after their union. Anxious to
corroborate this, he went to Mrs. and
asked her if it was not so. She replied in
the affirmative, and without hesitation added
that she recognized him from the first, but
did not care to impart any information he
did not himself possess. She had been lit
erally in the divorce business, having had
no less than seven lieges in twelve years.
She understood the art of making herself
look young, and at thirty-five she did not
appear more than twenty-five. It was the
art that had deceived the friend, and' caused
him to regard her as somebody else than her
real self.
Advices from Brownsville, Texas, state
that the United States sloop-of-war Wyoming
is cruising off tho Rio Grande. She is the
first American war vessel that has visted the
vicinity for some years, and the circum
stance, taken in connection with the ex
pected visit of the Secretary of War and
prominent army officers, is supix>sed to in
dicate a lively interest on the part of the
Government in frontier affairs.
Jaiifi |hess.
AnVIMMHINO KAHM:
Ona •qnar«. inanition 01 00
M anch itiibMqnaHt insertion. 50
•• ° ona year 30 00
HTHrhedule of full rates furnished on appli
cation.
Publication OMm:
CROMPTOM’S BLOCI, MECHANIC STREET,
WOKCKKTER, MAHH.
MISTAKEN IDENTITY.
A CURIOUS CAME.
Tn 187-, on the steamer , from Txiuis
ville to Bowling Green, was quite a large
party of passengers. We had gotten some
distance up Green river, when, at some land
ing, a gentleman and lady came aboard, regis
tered as man and wife, and wen* duly as
signed a state-room in the ladies’ cabin. The
boat’s cabin presented the usual taried scene,
some rea<ling, several groupes at the card
tables, and knots hen* and then* engaged in
conversation. In a few minutes a waiter
came forward and tohi the captain that the
lady just come aboani wished to see him in
her nxjin, who, a little surprised and wonder
ing, went immediately back and knocked at
the door, which was hesitatingly, cautiously,
and with evident signs of trepidation, opened.
They wen* both unmistakably much alanmxi,
and the lady appealed to the captain pite
oualy for protection. To his astonisht*d in
quiries about the cause of all this, she ex
plained that, in passing down the hall, she
recognized a man who had been her husband,
but from whom she had separated and mar
ried again, and who had driven them from
their homes with threats of violence and fol
lowed them with every possible annoyance;
that they had just left a place in Indiana, as
they thought, secretly, when lo ami behold,
here he was after them in Kentucky! She
was in despair, and implored the captain to
protect them. He assured her that he would,
but begged her to point out the man. as he
was acquainted with nearly all, and could
not imagine which one it could be. After
much importunity, the curtain being par
tially drawn so as to secure her from view,
she was at last prevailed upon to pass cau
tiously out, her husband standing behind
her and evidently equally frightened. The
ridiculousness of the scene presented here
maybe imagined. Her eye, with terrified
fascination, at lasts rests upon him, and she
points out a Mr. , well known to the
captain—a gentleman whom he had known
for years—well knew he was not married
and had every reason to believe never had
been.
The captain assured her she was mistaken;
that he knew the fact above related in regard
to the man, and that it could not lx* true.
She answered, “I know it is him. Do you
think it possible that I could live with a man
three years in the relation of wife, that only
a few weeks should intervene since I saw
him, and then be unable to recognize him or
mistake another for him?”
This was a poser, sure enough, and to a
stranger to all parties, convincing and un
answerable. But, then, there stood the liv
ing, ineradicable, insurmountable fact that
this was John , and not Mr. . 1 had
known for five or six years that he was not
married, and had not been within that time.
So we had it, neither being able to convince
the other. I proposed to bring him up for
closer inspection but she was too much afraid
of him to consent; but repeated assurances of
protection at last prevailed, and I went out
for him. Calling him out from his card
party, I briefly told him what luul occurred,
and in his wondering amazement he uummwi
something of the appearance of a frightened
culprit Brought face to face, the ludicrous
ness and singularity of the case culminated.
He commences:
“What is this you accuse me of, madam;
of being your former husband, of following
you with threats to kill, etc. ? Why, I do not
know you—never saw you before on earth, to
my knowledge, and I never had a wife.”
She, answering:—“What, sir? You deny
that your name is , that you were once
my husband, and that we separated in ,
Indiana?”
He:—“Yes, madam, I do deny it, each and
all, and most emphatically.”
By this time quite a crowd had been at
tracted as witnesses and auditors. She evi
dently was not convinced of her mistake, and,
after a slight pause, says:—
“Well, there is one way to decide this
question of veracity between you and my
self. If you are Mr. . and my former
husband, you have a deep scar in the edge of
and hidden by your hair, and at the top of
your fofehead.”
Imagine the scene here. All an* eager to
see the result of this test, as he pulls off his
hat, and stooping, presents his head for close
inspection. She nervously raises his hair,
looks, and looks again; then* was no scar to
be seen. He feels that he has triumphed,
and the company present acquit him; but
she, amazed and confused, seems but half
convinced. Here the case rests. I have
never since seen or heard of the strangely
deluded lady, but the gentleman, the sub
ject us this delusion, is still living on Green
river, a respected, good citizen, and the hun
dreds who know him know this was a mis
take, but a mistake utterly incredible and in
comprehensible—not committed by an ac
quaintance, nor even an intimate friend, but
by a wife, who had lived with a man in mari
tal relation for three or four years, and only
separated from him then for a few months.
As a case of “mistaken identity,” it cer
tainly is without parallel.— Bowling Green
( Ky.) Pantograph.
A Tiioßouoni.Y Astonished Shaker.
A well-known Shaker entered one of our
prominent business houses, yesterday, fur
the purpose of delivering a dozen brooms,
and while thus engaged a perambulating
merchant approched one of the boys em
ployed there and solicited him to purchase
some of his oranges. The boy succeed
ed in engaging the Shaker and the orange
vender in an animated conversation, and
while so engaged transferred two or three
oranges to the capacious pockets of the
Shaker. When the vender got ready to de
part, he observed that some of his merchan
dise had been removed from his basket and
commenced an inquiry as to the cause of the
disappearance. He was made by signs to
understand that the missing articles wen*,
in the Shaker’s pockets, and charged him
with having abstracted them, while the
Shaker stoutly denied the accusation, but
was prevailed upon to hx>k into his p»M*kets.
His astonishment at finding the oranges
there can be more readily imagined than de
scribed. The orange vender was extremely
incensed, but after an explanation both
parties departed in the best of humor.—
bany Argus.
His Holiness the Pope gave audience to a
considerable number of persons, among
whom were American officers in their naval
uniforms; they’were officers of the ships
Wachusett, Wabash. Brooklyn, and Con
gress. of the Mediterranean squadron, at
present lying in the Bay of Naples. The
Pope, shaking hands with one of them. Cap
tain Sumuer Nairn, smilingly said: “In case
1 should go to America, should I be well re
ceived?” The gallant officer returned a
flattering answer to this complimentary en
quiry.—Home Correspondence Swiss Times.
A Californian thus demonstrates by figures
that mining is a paying business. lie takes
for his starting point the assumption that
50,000 people an* engaged in gold-mining
there, and that their wages average *2 50
per day. Giving them three hundred work
ing days in a year, this would make the cost
of labor for the year $37,500,000. The gold
product for the year 1872, however, was only
$20,000,00), so that each dollar actually coot
$1 87*.

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