Newspaper Page Text
Now I Lay Ma Down to Sloop.
i In thf qnlft mtrtfry rh*mt">r ™ t*Uo v pillow* Vrl LH|>t SHNKKI . ?••* thr form* ol liitlr cliiMrnn JK Knf*lliR, wbitw-roliMl. for thf If i ; mL All in quiet ritirwrjr h*mler*, WhIU the <lukv ali*il%ra creep, Hf*r the vole** of the childret) . "Now I ley me down to ele*|> " In thf meadow* end the mountain* Celmly *hlae the winter atari, And erroee the (llnteiiing low lend* hUntethe oiooiilM>ent eilver Uer In the eileiic* end the derkneee, herkneea growing wtf II more deep, LUten to the little children— Praying (lod their *oul* to keep. "lf we die"~eo prey the children, And the mother'* heed drop* low (One ftvni out her fold I* sleeping Deep hvneeth the winter* atiow,) * Tekeour notiU" end peat the ententent e Hit* a gl Nin of crvytnl light, P I.lke the treiling of lili garment*, IVeiklug evet uiure in white. Little *>ul* tliet tend expei-tant. Ltatenlng et the getea of life . (leering fer ewey the murmur Of the tumult eud the atrlfe , We wh>> fight heneeth thoee banner*, Meeting renka of foemen there, Find e deeper, bm*dr meaning lu your *imjle % caper prayer, M hanliahall graap thia tlaudwnl Mhlch to-day yu wteh from far. a ' n y° lir deed* ahall ah.i|w the conflict In thia uni\erarti war. "Jfto HI o>, the Clod of Uttlea. w I tiuae atrong eye can never sleep, In the warring of temptation, t tfui and true your oul to keep. Hheli (he e -aUt end*, and *lwly ( lean the am >ke from out the akiea, A hen far down the purple distance All the uolao of battle die* When the iaet night'* aolerun ahad"** t*ettlr down on you and roe, M *y the |oy# thtt never fat let h lake our souls rnternally. JOSEPH'S" CHRISTMAS. I It was very strange, thought ohl Jos eph Holding, that he couldn't be master hf his own mind. He had lived a great inany years, and neither remorse nor J memory had ever been in the habit of disturbing him: hut now it seemed to him as if the very foundations of his life were breaking up. He was well through with his day's work—he had dined comfortably—lie sat in an easy chair in a luxurious drawing room whose crimson hangings shut out the still cold of the I>ecemler afternoon— he had nothing to do but to enjoy him self. Mr. Holding liked to enjoy him self at this season a* much as others did, for it was Christmas Eve. What though he was in the habit of spending it -<oli tarily ?—lie liked solitude. For many a year on Christmas Eve he had sat balancing in his mind the great accounts presented in his ledger, the ac cumulating coffers at his banker's, the strokes of business he would make in Not so n.>w. The year was orawingtoa close ; some intruding voice kept whispering that in like manner so was his career. lie could not put it from him, try as he would. The voice | reminded him of a coming time when his life's work would he all done—even as his day's work wis done now—when he would be ready to sit down in the | evening and look ovet the balance-sheet ! of his deeds, good and evil. Curiously j the old days came trooping in slow pro ' cession before him. And he had been able to forget them for so "very long! His dead wife. He had not loved her much when she was with him, but bow ! vivid was his memory of her now ! He } see her moving round the house, Inojs.-less ns a shadow, never intruding ■ htm att.-r h( her gruffly, hut going on her flp*rn meek, still ways, with her face Jf growing whiter every day. Me began to I understand, as he looked back, why her Strength had failed ; and she had been ready, when her baby came, to float out on the tide and let it drift her into Hod * haven. She had had enough to eat and drink, hut he saw now that he had left her heart to starve. Heavens . what a hard man he had been ! He seemed to see her white, still fare, as h looked at it the lost time, with the dumb reprotch frozen on it; the eyes that would never plead vainly any more, closed for ever. He recalled how passionately the three day* obi baby had cried in another room just at that moment, moving all the people gathered together for the j funeral with a thrill of pity for she poor j little motherless morsel. She i cat a pas | fionate, willTul baby, nil thtougb her OHp>y-bood; he remembered that. She R^anted —missed without knowing what lack was—the love and instenanc* her mother would have given her ■ and protested against fate with all the I might of her infant lungs. Hut as soon / as she grew obi enough to understand * how useless it was, the had grown quiet too; just like her mother. He recalled her all through her girlhood, a shy, still girl, always obedient and submissive, but never drawing very noar him. Why? Because he would have repulsed her as he repulsed her mother. He could aee it now. It waa very strange these facta should come back to him to day, and their naked truth with them. He had been a cold, hard, ungenial man. with out sympathy for any one human being: j absorbed utterly io the pursuit of money And so the child, Amy, had vn up without him. Y * tut toddenly, when she waa eighteen, F the old, passionate spirit that had marie L her cry so when a baby must have awak. W ened again, he thought; for she fell in I love then, and wisher! to marry. To in defiance of his wishes. He re membered her standing proudly bVcep IjAini after one of their quarrels, where 1 ' been harsh and bitter, and abus ivo of the man she wunted to call hus band. She lmd borne in silence reproach of herself, but not of him who had be come to her as her beat existence. Her words came back to the old man now. •'Father, do you know anything against Harry Church?" •'Yes," lie had answered, wratlifully ; •'1 know that he is a poor mnn, and that he cannot keep a wife as a daughter of mine must be kept." "Anything else, father ?" looking him steadily in the eyo. "No, that's enough," lie had thunder ed. "I'll tell you, besides, that if you marry hiin my doors will never open to you again, never." He met with a will as strong as his own. that time. She did marry him, and went away with him from her father's house. Mr. Holding lisd known the day the wedding was to take place, and din d.lined to stop it. He washed his hands of Harry Church, and of Amy, his wife, She wrote home afterwards, over and over again, but Mr. Holding sent all the letters hack unopened. Subsequent to that, they disappeared from town ; and he had never heard what became of them. It was at least ten years ago uow. It seemed very strange that these things should have come back to-night to haunt him—and with a wild remorse, a pitying regret. He had done nothing to recall them. Could it lie his sense of failing health that brought them?—if so i whnt sort of anguish might he not look for as he drew nearer aud nearer to the ending? He began to wish tbut he knew what had been in those rejected letters —whether Amy had beenjutfering for anything that money could supply. The next thought that struck him was, why he had opjroaed the marriage so viru lently. It is true Harry Church had been but a clerk in his own employ; but 1 he w:i- a well-educated gentleman, and would ri-e with time. Faithful, int- lli gent, persevering, respected—but pocr- In that last word lay the bend and front of Harry Church's offending. Il, Jos eph Holding, was rich then : he was fur richer now ; but he could not help ask ing it, what special good were his riches bringing him? He was an old man, tb span of li r e running quickly on. and he was all alone. Who would take his gol-i then He could not carry it along with lorn. All in u moment—he saw it clearly —the dreadful truth 'tood naked an I bare: hi- life and its object lisd been mistaken ones. "All alone! all alone !" be kept say j ing to himself, in a sort of vague self pity. "I've toiled anil worked for noth ... j ln £- Itiit during this time, even now, as he ; -at there, a menage of love was on its way to him. Perhaps Heaven bad but been preparing his heart lo receive it. He heard a ring at the door-bell. : Heard it without paying attention to it. 1 flings were nothing to hint; people did \ not come on business to his residence, I and of visitor* he expected none. I Down went his head lower and lower with its weight of thought. Meanwhile two people were admitted into the hall below ; a man and a little girl. The roan took oil' the child's warm cloak and hood, and she stood re vealed: a dainty, delicate creature of some eight years old ; her golden curl" drooping softly round her face, with its large blue eyes and it* cherry lips. The servant who ndrni toil them, not know ing what to make of this, culled Mr. Holding's housekeeper, old Mrs. Osgood. The latter went into a tremor as she came forward and look at the face. "It's Miss Amy's child!" she exclaim ed to the man. nervously. "| couldn't j mistake the likeness." "Miss Amy's that Was," he answered. ' Mrs. Harry Church she has been this many a year." "I know. It's as much a* my place is worth to admit any child of hers." "You are Mrs. Osgood," exclaimed the little girl. "Mamma said I should fie sure to see you." "Hear the blessed lamb! And so she remembers me," ".*<he talk* of you often : she says you were always kind to her; nobody but you loved her." "Well, I did love her. The old house , has never been the same sinee she went out of it. What's your name, my pretty ! one?" "Amy," "Amy!" repeated the housekeeper, lifting up her hands, as if there were some wonder in it. "And mamma said you would let me , go up alone to grandpapa." j "And so you that/," decided Mrs. <>• gcod, after a minute's hesitation. "I won't stand In the way of it, let master lie a* angry with me aa he will. He is up in the drawing room, all by himself." The man sat down to wait. And the child went tip alone. <tpening the door, she went softly in, not speaking, perhaps the stern look ing old man, sitting there with bent bead, awed her to silence. Joseph Hold ing, waking up from his deep reverie, saw n letter held out to bits. He took it mechanically, supposing its messen ger, hidden behind his large chair, wa a I one "of his servants. With a singular quickening of pulse, he recognized his daughter's writing. She had waited all these silent years, she told him, being determined : never to write to him again until they were rich enough for him to know that she did not write from any need of hi* 1 help. They hud passed ten years in the Wed, and Heaven had prospered them. Her husband was a rich mun now, and i she wanted from her father only his love —wanted only, that death should not come between them, and either of them 1 go to her mother's side without having 1 been reconciled to tbe other. "How did this come hero?—who ' brought it?" demanded Mr. Holding, ' in his usual imperious manner, 1 "I did, graudpupa." He sprang up ai the soft, timid voice* us if some fright took liirn, and stared at the lovely vision, standing there like a .spirit on his hearthstone, with her white face and her gleaming golden hair. Was it real ? Where was he ? Who could the child be? Itut, as he looked, the likeness flashed upon liiui —and he grew hungry to clasp her to him. It was the little Amy of the old day* grown into beauty—for Amy bad never been so wondrously fsir a* this. "Come here, my child ; don't be afraid. Tell me what your name is?" "Amy, grandpapa." Another Amy! Hrandpapa! He fell the sob* rising up in hi* heart with u great flood of emotion ; but he choked them back. "What have they told you about m?" he rejoined, after a long pause. "Have they bid you bate me?" "They always told me that ynu were far away toward where the sun rose; and if 1 were good they would bring me to see you some day. Fivery night I say in my prayers, 'Hod bless papa and mamma, and Hod bless grandpapa." "Why didn't they bring you? What made tbem let you come alone?" "Mamma sent me with John to give you the letter." was the simple answer. "The carriage is at the gate waiting for me." "Who is John ?" "Papa's servant." "And—where are they staying?" "At the hotel, We only got here this , rn wning." Mrs. Osgood, hovering in the hall, looked on in wonder. Her master was coming down stairs, calling for his hat and coat, and leading the child. He got into the enrrisgewith her ami it drove away. Mr. Holding was wonder ing vaguely whether it ws real. They arrived at last, and the child led him in, opening a door at the end of n long corridor. She spoke rheeringly. "Murnma, here's grandpapa. He said lie would cotne back with me." Mr. Holding's head went off in a sn in Advancing wkue.< tells upon peopl in such moments as tbe*<. He sat ■'<•*! and there were Amy'i arm* In* <-•:■ Amy'S —BISIUI hi* neck. Which oi il two sobbed the most. cu!d not be to i. Why had he never known nat be < -i through all those vanished y e<r ? •'F'ather, are we reconciled at Ut ? ' "I don't know, ny daughter, unto you tell me it you forgite inc." "There should be no talk about for giveness," she said. "You went < ,< id ing to your own opinion of what was right. And perhaps I IK to blame, too Father, it Is enough th it Hod ha brought us together again in peace. I thought that no ens could re't niy little Amy, least of *ll, her giandpapa." He looked up. The child stood by, I silently; the firelight glittering on her golden hair, her face shining strangely sweet. He put out his arms and drew her into them, close—where no child, not even his own, bad ever nestled be fore. Oh how much he had mia>ed in life)—he knew i'.now. He felt herding, ing hold round his neck—her kisses dropped upon hi* fare like the pitying dew from heaven ; and he—was it him self, or another in hi* place ? "F'ather, see," Amy's voice had a full, cheerful ring in it. Her married life bad been happy. Mr. Holding turned at the c til. "Here are Harry and the boys waiting to speak to you," she said, in a less as ' sured tone. He shook bis son-in law's hand heart ily. Old feuds, old thing*, were over now, and all was become new. In hi* heart, he bad always liked Harry Church jThen he looked at the two boys, bravei j merry little fellows, of whom he might proud. Explanations ensued. F'ortune had hrorod Mr. Church ; they bad come back for good, and were already looktog out for a house. "No house but mine," interrupted Joaeph Holding. "It will want a tenant , when lam gone. You must come home to morrow," "To morrow will be Christmas Day," said bis daughter, doubtingly. "All tbe better. If Christmas waa never kept in my house, it ahall be now. I ahall not iiva to see another, Amy." Hhe looked up at the changed, thin (see, and cmld not contradict bim i Some one, going to th e Western home hud told thein hw Jossp h Holding was breaking ; tho new* had caued them to return prematurely. Amy said to her husband that if her father died, unrecouoilcd totfc.-r, she should be full of remorse forever. "You will come home to morrow, all of you, ' repeated Mr. (ioldiug. "And mind, Amy, you do not go awny again." "But—if the children should be too much for you, father!" "When they are, I'll tell you, he said, with a touch of the former giufl ness. "1 he old house is large enough," Ife went out and found his way to the shops-—open to the last on Christmas Eve—looking for Christmas gift*. New work for him!—but he entered into it earnestly. Perambulating the streei* like a bewildered Santa Claus, he went home laden with books and toys, and jewel*, and bonbons. Mr*. Osgood lifted her hand*, and thought the end of the world must be coming. "Help me to put these things away, Mrs. Osgood. Don't stare as if you were moonstruck. And look here—there'll be company to dinner to morrow. Mind I you send in a good one." I "The best that ever was seen on a table, —if it's for them 1 think it is for." "Well,ills. Miss Amy'* coming home again." "Heaven be praised, sir! The bouse [ has been a dull one since she left it." i "They are all coming. And they wil) I not go away again, Sir*. Osgood. If you want more servants, you can get them." "It's the best Christmas greeting you could have given me, master." And they came. Amy anil Amy's husband and the pretty boy* were there; I and, best ol all, the sweet little girl 1 j with the golden hair, sitting next to j gtandpapa. It was too happy a party i for loud mirth. And among tbem -Joseph Holding saw, or fancied be saw, anuth/r ! face, over which, almost thirty years J ago, be bad watched the grave so-i piled ■ ! —a lace sad and wistful no longer, but bright with a strange glory. Close ly him she seemed to stand ; and be be.ird, or fancied that be heard, a whisper from j her parted lips, though it might bare j come only from his own hesrt: t"ss<* oc tsrh •1,4,-1 (ill m - Six Inchon of String. I ss iNvaxrios TO troutw MUI.II mo*. TWO roari'Nxs. "You see that large factory ? It cov er- the entire Mock. Half a million of money would't buy it. Well, it was built by a little piece of cord not more than six inches long." H*ro the •}>eaker | aused and scrutinized the reporter's countenance for indications i! incredibility, no t to astonishment But the narrator was ta king to a man. *ho, since the introduction of the tele phone, h*s ma )•> it * point of principle r. ~|v tor anything and to below.- that he 1,, ir The s|ieaker added . ght year* ago there lived on the j ••*• side, m tli- third story of a cheap j tenement, down i.i-sr the North river, * poor tnach inir. who was kept poor be. cause he bad a passion for inventing ; it amounted to a | asoion. He didn't drink and didn't travel with the politicians; and all who knev hi* family wondered j why they *hould he so poor. But at i la<i ho perfected an invention—the 1 simplest thing on earth and with hi*! patent in bi* hand he went down town : One day, at, I called for the head of a j house whose check WAS current for Ave fig ires anywhere in 'the stieet,' The inventor ottered to sell two thirds of hi* patent foiffSO.OOO it the house would bind itself to put $lOO,OOO into factories for producing the liu). thing that he had invented. The firm signed papers in less than an hour from the time of hearing the proposal, and in another. ' hour the inventor had converted the| firm'scheck for $20,000 into greenbacks, i I/.U were bought sod s factory was erected. The business speedily grew to gigantic proportions and at length the ! firm acquired all the rest of the block and covered it with brick and mortar, j and now the inventor is sble to aaso- j date with the millionaires. The little glove fastener a piece ol cord about six inches long and a dosen little metal hooks or buttons—is the thing that was invented." Th.it poor bedridden, invalid wife, si*ter, mother, or daughter, can be made the iiictnre of health by a few bottles of Hop Rittcr*. Will you let (hem imferf when so easily cured! —Four cabinets for less money than four card sizes would cost elsewhere, at Buyer's, Rlshop street. —Winter stock must go. Special bargains at I-ewin's. A DAWUKROUS CorxTsnrsiT.—There ero dangerous counterfeit* in circulation purporting to be "Walnut Leaf Hair Re* slorer." The strongest evidence of its great value Is the fact that parties know- Ing It* greet efficacy try to imitate it. Kaoh bottle of the genuine has a fmt timite of a walnut leaf—blown In the glass; and a Green Leaf on tho outside wrapper. The "Restorer" Is as harmless as water, while it possesses all the properties necessary to restore life, vigor, growth and color to the '' Purchase only from re*ji*iile par. tie*. Ask your druggist for d, Each bot tle is warranted. Johnston, Hollo war A Co., Philadelphia, and Hall A Ruckd, New York, Wholesale Agent* 4 i, ~1 ~~ " " EXCELSIOF. M'F'O CO. • J Circat Closing Out Male or ;! 2 * i , AT ASP HF.1.0 W COS T TH K ESTHIE STOCK MIST HE SOLE HE I , OA It PI, ESS OF COST T<) (/FIT HCSISFSS. Big Bargains in Suits I I "It MFSFHOM $!) VI I ''"'An PS HU r.v ASP VOCTIIS SPITS AEMOSj HIVES AWAY. CHILDHES'S CLOTH ISO WAY DOtt'S. OVERCOATS FROM %55.00 CPU'A HPS. ALL WOOL MESS PASTS FtlO M to rj , .... " ARM ' Tma ™DmA%!u!s'o"Slrf w,,r/^/ ''' TAKE NOTICE, t\t \\!V' ! D purchoei at our Ktorejvill be entitled t,. a GUAM h IK KI.I to win either of th.- two hanl-.me GIFTS to I*, drawn by the lucky numbers which ONE AND ALL have the .an..- chance to ptji-wn*. Ist. Prize. ~ ° ne poplar woocl, beautifully finished; Double Enclosed \Yash .Stand; Teapoy Table; one beautiful French Dre~ . German Plate Gla* 17x30; three fane Seat Chairs; one Cane S,-,r I too king < hair ; one Towel Hack. fTop of Dresser, Wash Fund Ten | poy Siaud, imitation Tennessee -Marble.) 2<l Prize. One beautiful lirxmel* covered Walnut Frame Lounge. KEYSTONE CLOTHING HOUSE, Siyn tied Flay. BtlUfunU, Be. SECII LF.lt ,1' CO., Grocer*, Iliimh lie,time Work, Belief ante, Fa. NEW GOODS FOR THE SPRING mill SUMMER TRADE!! We have endeavored to get the very bc*t of every thing in our line, and now have some really CHOICE GOODS. FIXE CUE A M CHEESE , Extra Larue FRENCH PHI MX SELECT OYSTERS, SWEET POTATOES, j LARGE RIFE CRAXRERRIES, FRVXELLES. IMPERIAL EI OS. BRIGHT XEW LEMOXS, FLORIDA ORANGES, Princess Paper-Shell Almonds. Evaporated DRIED PEAt II EN A FULL LINE OF CHOICE CANNED FRUITS. PRESERVED PEARS, PEACHES, PI.VMS and PRVXELI.ES. PLAIN CANDIES, FINE CONFECTIONERY, —AND— GOODIES of all Sorts and Kinds tarWe invite the people of Centre county to call and inspect our NICE GOODS, which cannot fail to please. uf HECHLER & CO. Doll ,f Mintrie-- Ih.ftt* ,f ! hue* ; TDIB A H-DDD Boot or Shoe THY —I&QMk 4 FOR Style, Quality and Cheapness. We defy all competition. We hate the largest stock—and bought for cash and sell 10 per cent, cheaper than any store in the county. W* OUR SPECIALTIES. REYNOLDS BROIL, Utica and D. ARMSTRONG'S Rochester shoes for Indies, Misses and Children. II at bn way Soul© and Harringtons Fine Shoes for Men. LIEISITIEIRI IBIOIOITIS, THE KINO OK THE MARKET. We have a Shoe Polish which will not crack the Leathe as trood as the best and only 15c, DOLL A MINGLE. Bcllefonte, Pa.