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Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, November 29, 1870, Image 1

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71
J iJ
VOLUME 15-NUMBEIt 48.
BARTON,. VERMONT, NOVEMBER 29, 1870.
WHOLE NUMBER 777.
General business (Carlrs.
BARTON.
J, L. WO'JlIAN,
DEALER Ror.ts, Shoes, and Eindinus, of the
i.i st kind and quality, lOnVred cheap lor cash.
Moreover A. J. t. TwnnljiyV.
0. 1). OWEN,
nFALKR in Korciu and lim'ti; lrr llimd?,
W. I. UimwIk, (iroeinen. Crockery, Flour, Salt,
J-i.-li. .Nails, Ready Maile clutliin, &e.
HALE 4 ROlSINtiSO.N,
TToRNEVS and Counsellors at law. Address
lieu. N. Dale, Island 1'und, J. li. Robinptou,
I'urton.
1). IS. RAMSEY.
(ARMAGH Painting, over Vdurd's t arriajre
j shop, ISarton, Vt.
J. 1!. CASSIDV,
ARRER aiip Hair drewr. Shop on tho corner
1) Main and Water St., liarton, V t.
JAMES DISWELL,
III'KNSM) Auctioneer. Will attend promptly
i to all calls and tor reajonatde pay. Barton,
elluont.
E. E. RAWSO.N,
KALER in Clocks, Watches, Jewelrykind C'on-
I)
WARNER BROTHERS,
DEALERS in St ives. Pino, Tin, Wooden, Glass
and Hollow Ware. Peddlers furnished, liar
ton, Vt.
J. N. WF.I1STER,
INM'RAM E AGENT. Insurance of all kinds ef
I'ected to any amount in lirnt class companies,
Lai ton, V't. 1
II. 0. WUITl'HER,
DEALER in Stoves, Tin, Japan, Wood, Glassand
Hollow Ware, barton, Vt. All kinds of barter
taken in exchange.
E. II. WKllSTKR.
TOB PRINTER. All kinds of Plain and Fancy
l Job Printing executed on short notice and at
iaonaM, rates, liarton, Vt.
WM. W. GROl'T,
VTTllRNEVand Councelor 'at J.hw and Claim
A;i lit. Will attend the Courts in Orleans and
t aiedonia counties, liarton, Vt.
J. N. W EliSTER.
1)IIOTOGRAPUER and Di aler in American and
Foreign .stereoscopic V iews, Mereoseopes and
Picture K mines, llurdm. t.
Lol lS YOLNG,
HARNESS MAKER and Trimmer. Repairing
iloiif iifiitiv and promptly, sliop'next door to
Marble Works, iliirton village.
V,. II. LITTLE,
I jRoPRIETMll of Crystal like IluteL-within
live nl" "i uieoepot. a ltvery raaoie in con-
rt ioii witn me house, liarton, i.
GEO. C. DAVIS,
nKM.EIt in Groceries of all kinds Rutter,
I'ln-ese. Pork. Luvl, I'rcsli l-'ish aud Oysters;
.ii-o 1 1 it :in 1 1 ob:ieco.- N ut.-, Illaiiins aud tanules
Kurt Vt.
o. V. JOSLVN,
Ik I V' KSMITIUNG. Horse Shoring and General
I 1 R p.iirinj;. Has on iuind Cable Chains. ISridie
'11:1111-, Cliuin, liooks, Whitflrtn-o Irons, Neck
okes. Cunt-Hooks, Ac., liarton, t.
A. ('. ROUI.so.,
T H tLKSALK DcaU-r in Uct llrantls Flour.
vt Spiers. AO., Lnno l'liit.rr. OiN, Fi-h. ani
Nlt. lK-M.t St'Tf, Bin-tun villas.' T.-rnm CaMj.
M. J. 8.MITH,
IKlMlli;TtK "f Orleans County Marble Works.
FfR-iii'ii ami A nHTican .Mar tirave-r'torif.',
MonumciiM, A,r., hurtuii. 't. All kinds of Ceiiif
t fry Wulk at greatly rL-iuot.i pnot-?".
Kim K M. ITiUtV. A II li.STAPLF.S.
1 vKNTAL Sl'PjiKoNS, are ptvpan-d to Htrnd to
I I any in-rOiim; tin mtvum-h i-t a iH-ntist. T't:th
ruravtril witli-mt pain y tlic ue of Nitrous 0.tdo
ta-. All w..rk iMuhiiitiy aUi'inlutl Vt. i harcs
r u.""iia lc
l,U I 'll, I. HI!.)
IRASBUUGU.
HoLDRIDGi; i SAWYER.
I'L!!RS in porciirn and Dome-die Drv (ioods,
i l.
is and iiroerries, Crockery, Ilard-
.ire. nil. Naii
id Kl:
HAltl.S I. AIL,
A
TToRNEY. l'.- unty mid I'Ulin Ai. nt,
lrasburh, Vt.
L. E. EIMi :rthn.
1)R.li,P,H:ToR ol Irasbiirxh llou-e. four miles
t'ruiii Coon. A Pa-s. River Railroad. Convey
ance to and from the Matioii on arrival of all trams
AiMiflu I hverv iii connection with the Hon-e.
ha- iilh. S t.
S. STAN 1 1 1RD,
iR'M'EUY ami Varitty Store, where are kept
JI Flour, Pork, Laid. Lutter. Teas. Coflee, Suzar,
Tiiiwure, .stovepipe. Ac. Meals Hu nched to order.
A livery -t;i le in connection with other husiues.
1 1 asiiui h. V l.
W. L. RUSSELL,
DEALER in Drusrs. Medicines. Dye Stuffs, Sta
tionery, Blank Books, Candies, Cigars, To
; .H. Toilet Soap, Eancy Articles, and all the Pop
ular Pat ut Medicine, iras. uriih, t. Also pure
W ile s and Liiiuri, li r medicinal and mechanical
purp .s,
NEWPORT.
W. 1). CRANE,
TToRN EY aiid Counselor at Law. and Solicitor
l in 1 hancery, Tine's lllock, Newport, Vt.
E. S. DoRMAN,
KALER in Poot-s aud Shoes, Hats and Caps.
No. I (V. uru lllock, Newport, Vt.
I)
Pit. K. 1II .NTINGT0N,
ENTIST. All the Mo.lern Improvements at
his oiliee iu True's lllock, Newport, t.
I)
II. BEAN,
1)R0I'P.IET0R of Lake House. Newport. A
irood livery stable, newly fitted up, is connect
ed with the house.
E. B. TRl'E & CO.,
DE LEUS in Furniture, Cnrpetin, Crockery,
ii!a-s Ware. Paper llaiiiiiexs, Window Shades,
Urass, Cojiper. Iron and Tin Waie. Newport, t.
ROYAL ITMM1NGS,
1)R'PRIET0R of the Franklin Printins Estah
lishment. All kinds of printing executed 01
slioit notice, in the best manner, and on reasonabW
terms. Newport, Vt.
P.. E. SHAW & CO.,
I F.A1.ERS in Watches, Clocks. Silver and Plated
I Ware, Jewelry and rancy Goods of every tie
seription : Mus'eal Instruments. Guns, Pistols. Ac.
West W inir ol Meinplireinao Hotel, Main street,
.Newport. i.
J. Y. GREEN,
I )nOI'RIET.R Me dical and News Depot, wliero
ui:tv b found a irreat varietv of yledicines.
Trusses, Supporters, Dye Stutls. Books and Station
ery, Inks. Pens. Ac.; Toys and Fancy Goods. Phy
sicians Prescriptions caretully compounded. New
port. Vt.
B. F. 1). CARPENTER,
TTORNEY and Counselor at Law,
L. West Charleston, Vt.
A. D. BATES,
TTORNEY and Counselor at Law,
Dcrhy , Vt.
. B. LESLIE,
i)
ENTIST. Oilicu over Way. Titus ,1 Co.'s store
lluldw'Ck, t.
D. M. PARKER. M. 1).,
1 )IIYS!CIAN and Sur-eon, All any, Vt. Office in
l .saieiers iiiiiium.
P. 11. LAIRD,
A T ANI FACTl'RER of Grnnite Monuments. All
i)l kinds of Granite work done equally os well a.-
in .Mart le. St. Johns!. ury. I.
E. K. HAMMOND,
M ANl'KACTl RER of True-es and Support-rs
Ainiedu t Aii'ers and Pump Tools. Gun
sin tiling in all its various brunches, done to order
special attention mveii to hdire Tools ol all Kinds
Finally, Bhicksmithini; of all kinds done to per
lection and warranted. Aest Derbv, V t.
I. T. PATTERSON,
I )'10PR1ET0R of Ea jle Hotel,
Craltshurv, Vt.
BARTON LANDING.
SARAII A. STEARNS,
ATILLINER and Dress-Maker. Also dealer in
1 .Millineiiv fancy Goods and small wares,
nop over Austin & Joslyn's store.
L. D. WILSON,
1)
EALER In Dru.-s, Medicines, Dye Stuffs, Te;
aud lobecco, Barton Landing, Vt.
A. D. BIGELOW,
"LACKSM1T1I. Horse shoeing and general re-
1 1 pairing uoue at snort notice, iiarton Landing,
t UlUiOlll.
R. C. SMITH,
ArAN'l'FACTl'RER and dealer in Boots, Shoas
and uu'ibers. Repairing done at short notice,
s'"j in Post Office building.
L. L. BICKLAND,
I TARN F.SSwMlFR and CftrriatsA Trimmer. F A 11
1 1 kinds of repairing clone with neatness and
carton Landing, t.
W. C PARKER.
D.
l1u,'I'R Jn Dnr Goods, Groceries, Boott and
' ShOH- Finn., V,. j. rw. jl,
and Ir; i, ' """OS, loys, tiwu, nauaici
and Jewelry. Barton Landing, Vt.
AUSTIN A inkir-ev
I'm.1.?1. in Gener&l Merchandise. A Tailor
uiwtn. V i """inoii wnn ine store, ana in
py til tnrtlas workman. Terms, Ready
-iljwon Landing, Vt.
TAILOR JOSIJLY
Work w.f',1 attention paid to Cutting
N York V Mwl to ive "atWactlon. Latest
Landing vt J!i"M,reSul"1y received. Barton
Joya'i store P nectlon with Austin A
GRANDV, SKINNER & PARKER,
AITHOLESALK and Retail Dealers in yiour,
Corn, Wett India lioodw. Groceries. Hardware
and Aricullural Implements. Special attention
tiven to the l'aint Stuck Trade. Agents for l.uke
Iluzzell. Manufacturers if Dressed Clapboarda.
uupot street, lurmo Lanuiui?, l.
NOVEMBER 1870.
Austin &. Jeslyn have just ojiened a lare stock
of
NEW AND DESIRABLE GOODS
including Double and Single Shawls,
BEAl'TIFl'L AMI liOI.
elveteens, Cassimcres in .all Gi-ados and Sty les,
Black and BliiCiBroad clothes, kHeavy Beaver.
Good Witer Proof at $1 Upicards.
Domestics at prices that Illustrates the advantages
of our Ready Pay System, and Dress kGoods to suit
all tastes.
COME AND SEE.
"We have (so many customers say) the hest cutting
tailor in Orleans County.
AIST1N 4 JOSLYN.
Barton Landing, Nov. 7, le?0.
s i. i: i a mi s
at the old stand.
LYNDON, - . .
VERMONT.
We offer
The l.urmsl Stock
-AN It-
Cr R E A TEST V A 11 I E T Y
f sleighs for sale that can be found in the State.
All thoroughly built and elegantly finished. Call j
ml examine. (,wN LYNDON CARRIAGE CO. !
THE BEsT SToVE IN THE WORLD:
DOVLES PATENT DOUBLE ACT
ING l'Ll'E AMEUIC,
WITH
: X T E N S ION TOP,
RESERVOIR AND CLOSET.
Also' tho American Improved, C00D CHEER, and
EMPIRE, arc all first class Cooking Stoves and war
ranted in every respect. I also have a good assort
ment of Cheap stoves with aud without Reservoirs.
P.OHA AM) ri.Otr HKI'AIRS.'
Horse Hoes, Cultivators, ic. Also a lull assort
ment of
HOLLOW,
TLX.
GLASS,
JAPANNED and
W O O D E N W A R E S,
urns, Pumps Cast Iron Sink, do. All of which !
will be sold at fair prices fur
CASH OR READY PAY.
All kinds of produce and Peddler's Barter taken
n exchange fo Goods.
Cash paid for veal and dairy skins by
H.O. WHITCIIER.
Barton. May. 1 4, 1-70.
L. V,. HARRINGTON, SONS & CO.
Wholesale and retail dealers in
ORGANS iV PIANOS,
And all Musical Instruments.
Seven Of tare Rosewood Pianos, Carred,
And of fitst-class manufacture, for
$'olo Warranted Fire Years.
Customers should be cautious and only allow con
tinued trial to convince of good bargains.
Deal with legitimate and
special trade
Wit ft those who Deserce Confidence
thronijh lonij experience.
The senior partner of this firm can refer with suc
cess to many in this vicinity, and claims an experi
ence of thirty years dealing in music practically,
ought to induce patronage. Instruments from all
prominent firms. Satistaction guaranteed in every
respect with deal. Write us for catalogue aud terms
lietore purchasing.
L. IS. HARRINGTON, SONS k CO.
St. Johnsbury, Vt. -J7yl
IRA A. SIIATTrCK,
A N D
E N G R A V E R ,
Also dealer in Watches, Clock?, Jewelry, Coin,
Silver Spoons, Thimbles and Napkin Rings ;
a lull line of Rogers & Co.'s Plated
Goods and Hollow Ware,
Cutlery, Perfumery,
and Tooth
Brushes,
Violins, Violin Bows and Strings, Bridges, Ac.;
Pipes, Tobacco Boxes, Toilet and Shaving
Soaps, Thermometers ; in fact,
A COMPLETE ASSORTMENT
F A N C Y GOODS!
All work done promptly and warranted.
ENGRAVING DONE TO ORDER.
Remember the place next door to the Tin Shop,
Hardwick, Vt.
ORLEANS CO. MARBLE WORKS,
AT BARTON, Vt.
3VI . J . SMITH
Wishes to say to the people of this vicinity that he
will sell
MONUMENTS AND GRAVESTONES,
To those wishing, at very reasonable rates. Par
ticular attention will be given to
FANCY HEAD-STONES.
Orders by mail will receive prompt attention.
Shop opdosite Tin'Shop, Barton.
2-2 M. J. 6MITH.
TANNERY FOR SALE.
The subscriber will sell his tannery in CraRsbury,
..irefher will, t )i ul. r Ava - nnvnn hand
He will also sell his house and land the premises
are a very desirable location for any one desiring
to carry on the tanning business. The above prop
erty will be disposed of at a bargain, as the sub
scriber's health will not admit ot his carrying en
the business. I will also sell my farm in North
Greensboro, consisting of 245 acres of land, with
good house, barns and Bheds, together with the
stock and farmiog tools. A. W. WILLIAMS.
Craftebury, Mar. 21, 1870. 13tf
i'octru.
TWILIGHT.
Br CONSTANCE BBUCE,
When o'er earth the night is falling,
Thoughts of thee before me rise ;
I hear thy voice my name till calling,
Through the gloom I see thine eyes,
Iu the twilight rise unhidden
Thought and hopes oflong ago
Hopes that die with Spring's sweet blossoms,
Thoughts that perish with the snow.
Now the stars are calmly peeping
From the sky like angel's eyes.
Art thou smiling? art thou weeping ?
Say; do thought of ine arise ?
Now the moon is proudly rising ;
Soft o'er earth she sheds her rays;
Is her pale light o'er thee streaming ?
Dost ever dream of by-gone days !
Oh : let memory's magic power
Bring my mirage back to thee,
In this calm and holy hour
When night descends o'er earth and sea,
And when, upon the mighty plain,
The stars like gems begin to shine,
Then know on them I sadly gaze,
And that my sweetest thoughts are thine.
THE RICHEST PEARL.
Beside the church door, a-weary and lone,
A blind woman sat on the cold door stone ;
The wind was bitter, the snow fell fast,
And a mocking voice in a fitful blast
Seemed ever to echo her moaning cry,
As she begged ,her alms 'of the passers-by
" Have pity on me, hare pity, I pray ;
My back unbent and my hair is gray."
Tho bells were ringing the hour of prayer.
And many good people were gathered there ;
But covered with furs and mantle warm,
They Lurried past through the wintry storm.
Some were hoping their souls to save,
And some were thinking of death and the grave,
And alas : they had no time to heed
The poor souls asking for charity's meed.
And some were blooming with beauty's grace.
But closely muffled in veils of lace.
They saw not tho sorrow, nor heard not tho moan,
Of her who sat on the cold door stone.
At last came one of a nobloname,
By the city counted richest dame,
And the pearls thato'er her neck were strung
She proudly there to the beggar flung
Then followed a maiden young aud fair,
Adorned with clusters of golden hair ;
But her dress wa. thin, and scanty, and woru,
Not even the beggars seemed more forlorn.
With a tearful look and a pitying sigh,
She whispered soft, "No jewels have I,
But I give you my prayers, good friend,'' said -lie
"And surely I know God listens to me."
On tho poor white hand, so shrunken ard small
Tho blind woman felt a tear drop full.
Then kissed it and said to the weeping girl.
"It is you who have given the purest pearl."
Select .ftoru.
DAISY'S VICTORY.
BY EMMA GARRISON JONES.
The February afternoon was cohl and
blustering, with a skim of isnow whitening
the haro meadows and frozen hills, and
every prognostic of a heavy Tall as the day
closed in.
Mrs. Arnold came up from the stable,
where she had been giving the last wisp
of hay to her one mileh-cow, with a small
tin pail in her hand. A little fairy of a
child, with blue eyes, and golden curls,
met her in the door-way.
"Won't you rive me just a little bit
o'drink, mother?'' she said, eoaxinjrly.
"I'm getting so very hungry, and Brindie's
warm milk is so uiee."
"Yep, my darling," replied her mother,
tutting down her pail, and going to the
dresser for a cup ; "but poor Brindie is
short of food, aud can't give as much milk
this bitter weather ; and poor papa must
have the better part, you know but Daisy
shall have a little drink."
She poured out a lew spoonfuls, which
the child swallowed eatrerlv.
'How nice," she
little mouth. '-Oh
aid, smacking her rosy
mamma ! do you mind
how we ust-'d to have so much milk last
summer, and sweet, white bread, too?
Will it be so again, mamma, when the
roses bloom, and tho preen grass comes ?"
Mrs. Arnold looked down into the little
hunger-pitiched 1'aee, and her eyes filled
with tears. '-I hope so, dear," she replied,
choking down a sob.
Just then she heard her husband's voice
from the adjoiuiDjrapartmeut. She hasten
ed to put away the milk, sayinr, as she
did so,
"Go play with Dollie a little now, Daisy,
and mamtna'will hunt up some supper for
vou, as soon as she attends to poor, sick
lather."
Tue little thing crossed over to the
lounge, and taking up au old doll, all
bundled up in bits of calico and old flannel,
sat down aud begau to pet it.
"Poor Dollie ! poor Dollie! are you so
hungry'?" she would murmur in her sweet,
bird-voice, dropping kisses on the faded
face. "Never miud, summer will come
by-and-by, aud then Brindie will give lots
o'milk, aud we'll all have enough. Oh!
won't that be ni ;e, Dollie ?"
The sound of suppressed weeping from
her father's chamber attracted her atten
tion. She put down the doll and listened.
It was her mother weeping as if her heart
would break.
"Poor Bessie," her father said, raising
his thin hand to caress and stroke her
hair, "poor, overworked little wife, don't
give up so."
But Mrs. Arnold wept on. She was a
pretty, loving, busy little woman, this
mother of Daisy, intensely unselfish, and
very brave and hopeful for the most part.
But the strongest of us break down at
times, and poor Mrs. Arnold was as weak
as a babe that wintry afternoon.
I knew how selfish it is, Tom," she
said, lowering her head until it rested on
the pillow beside her husband.s wan face.
"to tret so, and you so s:ck ; but my heart
was so full ; let me have my cry out, and
I shall be ail right, then.
"But I can't see what we are to do,
Bessie," replied her husband, still stroking
her bright brown hair, "indeed. I can't.
Your lather was right, it was selfish iu me
to marry you. I wish "
Bat her passionate kisses hushed the
words on his lips.
"Not that, Tom," she entreated; "for
God's sake never say that. Come what
may, I bless God forever that you are my
own, my dour, true husband. Oh, Tom !
this waut is bitter and dreadful : but it
can't change our love for each other, can
it, Tom ?"
"Never, darling, never!" he replied,
soothing and caressing her as he would
.have done a child. "If I could only get on
my ieet again, we would soon outride th
storm : but this ami will keep me down
till sprinsr. And you've spent your last
dollar, haven't you, Bessie?"
Poor Bessie tried to prevaricate ; the
truth was, she had not possessed a dollar
for a week
"And the mortgage comes due on Fri
daj ," continued her husband, "aud Dunbar
threatens to sell the house over our heads,
doesn't he ?"
"Yes, Tom !"
He sighed heavily, glancing out with a
shudder at the wintry storm.
"And no fuel, no ibod for you and the
little one," he went on. "God help us, I
can't see what we can do !"
"Let me go to father, Tom," said his
wife, timidly.
Rut his wan face darkened, and his eyes
flashed.
"Never with my consent, Bessie," he
said, excitedly. "You went once, and he
turned you and the little one from his door;
you shali not go again, not if we starve."
: His wife wept silently, stroking his thin
hand the while, her memory going back to
the halcyon days of her girlhood. She
was an only child, her father a proud old
man, who had sot his heart upon making
a splendid match for his pretty daughter.
"I can give you a hundred thousand on
your wedding day," he had said ; "and do
man need seek you who has a cent less."
This was the fiat. Lovers had goue to
the "Elms", to be dismissed by the scores
by the father ; but at last the right one,
as he thought, had made his appearance.
This was Philip Wetherel, a man of three
score, of fine family, and a rhilionaire.
Tho master of the "Elms" elected him as
his son-in-law at their first meeting, and
Bessie was duly warned. For the first
time iu her life she rebelled against her
father's authority.
"I never will marry him, father," she
said, her blue eyes flashing. "I will die
first."
"And why not, pray?" questioned her
angry sire.
"Because he's old, aud selfish, and
miserly, and," she added, stoutly, "more
than all, because 1 love some one else."
Then the secret came to light. Visiting
an old school-mate, the summer before.
Bessie had made the aer jua'ntanee of a
young schoolmaster, Tom Arnold by name.
It was a case of mutual love at first sight,
I believe ; and when Bessie went home to
the "Elms," she wore a plain engagement
ring on her finger She told her father
now, eutreating him, with streaming eyes,
to give her lover a hearing. But the old
man vowed that he would forever disown
and disinherit her, if she ever even so
much as spoke to her lover again. The
end was, that, one dark night, Bessie fled
with her lover, and before the day broke
they were man and wife.
The master of the "Elms" avowed his
determination to disinherit his daughter ;
but unmindful of his wrath, the uewly
wedded pair settled down to housekeeping
as cozy as a couple of robius. Two happy
years went by. The master's school was
sufficient for all their needs, aud to perfect
their happiness, a little, blue-eyed baby
came, and the fanciful young mother called
her Daisy. Then, in the fullness of her
bliss, as soon as the little one could toddle
along, she went up to her old home, intend
ing to make the child a peace-offering be
tween her offended father and herself.
u a bright spring morning, holding
little Daisy by the hand, she walked up
the broad avenue that led to her father's
door. The old man was standing on the
steps, his white hair flouting in the morn
ing breeze. He saw her, aud recognized
her, but before she could speak he turned
on his heel, aud locked the door in her
face. She was no child of his, he never
wanted to see her, or speak to her again.
This was the message his servant brought
' her.
j The young mother returned to her home
I in tears. Soon after that a double dark
uss fell upon them. Owing to some dis
I sensii tis iu the village, her husband's
school lost half its pupils ; and, as if to
make true the saying, that troubles tread
upon each other's heels, in a little while
the schoolmaster himself was stricken
down by rheumatism. Doctor's fees ami
medicine bills, added to the sum of their
daily expenditures, speedily exhausted
their small store of ready cash ; aud we
find them on this stormy February after
noon iu a most pitiable condition. The
husband still a helpless cripple, food and
fuel both gone, and the mortgage on the
cottage coming due.
With her head on her folded arms,
Bessie Arnold sat and thought it all over,
the hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
Aud out in the kitchen, little Daisy, who
had listened intently to what her father
and mother had been saying, sat quite
still, her tinj hands tightly clasped, and
her blue eyes wide and solemn with grave
determination. After a few moments she
slid down from her seat, and stealing on
tiptoe to the corner where her scarlet
cloak aud hood hung, she took them do'vn
and put them on. Then, still stepping
cautiously, she opened the door aud went
out, closing it noiselessly after her. The
wind and tine snow almost took awav her
breath at first, but she faced it bravely;
and running round to the kennel in which
a huge Newfoundland lay asleep, she call
ed softly,
"Come, Rover, come !''
The great dog was at her side iu an
instant, shaking his shaggy sides, and rub
bing his leonine head against her dainty
little face. Daisy patted him vigorously,
then, putting her roso-bud mouth close to
his ear, she said, with an air of crave
importance,
"Listen to me, Rover, and be still.
e're going a long, long way, you and
me, liover. e re going to the 'Llms to
see grandpap. He won't send vs away,
will he, doggie ? No, indeed! AYe'U get
inonev, and lots o' iroodies. won't we
Rover ? Come on, theu, we must hurry
it's a long way, aud m cold."
The dog uttered one or two short barks,
expressive of his satisfaction, ani then
bounded along by her side. The little
creature drew her scarlet cloak closely,
and struck into the village highway with
a rapid step. Two or three times during
the summer, her father, who was just the
least bit extravagant iu his habits, had
indulged his family in the luxury of a
ride, aud poor Bessie had always insisted
that they should drive past the "Elms,"
she longed so to get a glimpse of her girl
hood's home. Little Daisy remembered
all this, and had a dim idea in regard to
the distance and direction.
"I know the way, Rover," she said,
loftily, shaking her little hooded head.
"You just follow me we're going to the
'Elms,' you know. I'm going to tell grand
pap 'bout poor, sick papa, and how mamma
cries ; and he won't send me away, will
he, liover? We'll have a nice time when
we get back ; you shall have a big bit o'
meat, doggie, i'or going such a long way
through the suow."
Prattling thus to her companion, little
Daisy trudged on prist the sleepy little
village, out into the brown pasture-fields,
and under the clauking branches of the
leafless wood. The February day waned
rapidly, aud as the early twilight closed
in, the snow began to fall heavily, and the
whistling wind, keen and searching, drove
it hither and thither, in great blinding
drifts. Daisy struggled on bravely, her
scarlet hood aud cloak all white, her sweet,
infantile face radiant with hope and eager
expectation ; the big, black Newfoundland
trotting soberly at her side. But, by-and-by,
the little feet began to grow weary,
the rose-lips parted, and her breath came
in short gasps.
"I'm bo tired. Rover," she said, as a
great gust drove her back. "We'll sit
down under this big tree, and rest just a
little bit, Rover ; we'll soon get to the
'Elms' now."
She sunk down beneath the tree, resting
her chin upon her knees, aud the big" dog
cuddled down beside her, h;s clear eyes
anxious and wistful.
The darkness deepened rapidly, and the
fury of the storm increased. The little
scarlet head sunk lower and lower, and
presently Daisy was fast asleep. But
Rover was alert and watchful, his warm
nose pressed close to her cheek.
After a while there came a sound of
wheels in the snow, and a cart, followed
by its driver, trolling a merry song. The
Newfoundland bounded out into the high
way like a flash, barking and leaping, and
running to and from the spot where the
little sleeper lay. The cartraan climbed
down from his seat, and peered into the
drifts ; then, with a prolonged whistle, he
raised the child in his arms.
"Come, my fine fellow, you shall ride,
i . n I. : 1 ..1 1 .,,.,.-i n Anr
as he
lOO, lie Bttiu ttuunciiu
remounted his seat, and wrapt his mill
blankets about the child's chill form.
Rover leaped iu after him, and,they rattled
away. .
The master of the "Elms" sat in his
huge velvet-chair before a cheerj fire that
night, sipping his Mocha, and toasting his
slippered feet. His housekeeper entered
hastily, with an excited face.
"Excuse me, sir; but we must bring
her in here," she said. "She's half frozen,
aud the other fires are low. A little child
it is, sir, that John picked up in the snow.
Come right iu, John."
John obeyed, carrying the little figure,
in her scarlet wraps, closely followed by
the great Newfoundland. Daisy opened
her blue eyes, as they seated her before the
fire, and stared about her with a startled,
sleepy gaze.
The old man put down his cup, looking
on in amaze, something iu the little one's
face stirring his heart to its very depths,
and bringiifg up bauished meuories of
happier days. Meanwhile Daisy slowly
collected her senses.
"We must go, Rover," she sail, present
ly, aa Iter eye caught sight of Jttftj dog ;
"we've rested, now we must go."
"Where are you going, child? TThoare
you ?" asked the old man.
"I'm Daisy Arnold, sir; and I'il going
to the 'Elms' to see my grandpa, cause
my own papa's sick, and poor maxima
cries so, and we're all so hungry ; and
Brindie can't give much milk till summer
comes. I stopped to rest a bit, but I
must go now "
She stopped short, something in the old
mau's lace attracting her her quick,
childish instincts comprehending the whole
scene.
"Oh !" she cried, presently, clappiug
her hands, "this is the 'Elms,' and you are
my grandpa ! Oh ! you won't send Daisy
away '?"'
The dog crept a pace nearer, something
very like human solicitude iu his eyes.
The old man stood speechless a moment,
struggling between wrath and love ; but
at last he put out his arms.
"No, little one," he half sobbed, "I can
not send you away."
That had been a terrible night at the
schoolmaster's cottas;e. All through it. in
the storm aud darkness, with what aid she
could summon, the poor mother had search
ed for her missing child, while ths father
tossed upon his bed in impotent despair.
Morning dawned, clear and glorious over
the snow-clad earth. Bessie Arnold came
I out, pale and hopeless, turning her de
spairing eyes toward the rising sun.
"Was not my cup of misery bitter
enough," she moaned. "Oh! my God!
hast thou utterly forsaken me !''
A closed carriage drove down the vil
lage road, on to the crossing, up to her
very door. A window fl.-w open, and a
little scarlet head popped out.
"Mamma! Mamma!" called a silver
voice, "I've come back. I went to grand
pa, and here he is you won't cry now,
will you?"
Before the bewildered wemau could get
her breath, Rover bounded fiotu the car
riage with noisy barks, followed by the old
master of the "Kims." He came to Mrs.
Arnold's side, aud took her in his arms.
"Forgive me, Bessie," he said. "I've
been hand and cruel, but the little one has
conquered."
Bessie sobbed upon his bosom, and then
there was a joyous reunion ; and before
sunset the sc'.uoi.iiaster's cottage was de
serted, the whole party having grje to
live at the "Elms."
Advortisini; Aphorisms.
Judicious advertising always pavs.
If you have a good thing, advertise it.
If you don't, don't.
If you don't mean to mind your own
business, it will not pay to advertise.
Never run down vour opponent's goods
in public. Let him do his owu advertis
ing. It's as ttue of advertising as of any
thing else iu life, it it is worth doing at
all, it is worth doing well. '
We don't recommend advertising as the
best way to get a wife ; but we know that
it is the best way to get a good tride.
Don't expect au advertisement to bear
fruit in one night, like the prophet's gourd.
Like Ayer's pills, advertising will take
effect, but it takes more than oue night to
do it.
lou can t eat enough in oue wees to
last a whole year, and j-ou can't advertise
on that plan, either.
A large advertising once aud then dis
continued, creates the impression that the
man has fizzled.
Injudicious advertising is like tishimi
where there is no fish. You need to let
your line fall in the right place.
A constant dropping will wear a rock.
Keep dropping your advertisements in the
public, and they will soon unit under it
like rock salt.
Large type isn't necessary in advertis
ing. Blind folks don't read newspapers
If you can arouse curiosity by an ad
vertisement it is a great poiut gained
Ine tair sex don t hold all the curiosity
in the worlu.
Don't be afraid to invest the printer's
ink, lest your sands ot life be nearly run
out.
When you advertise, see that you do it
on the same principle that you buy goods,
Get the most you can for the money.
People who advertise only once iu three
months forget that most folks can't re
member anything longer than about seven
days.
"SojouiixEi-. lurra" ox the Fashions.
sojourner docs not believe in the present
style of women's apparel. Her opinion of
it was given in au address at Providence
last week, as follows :
"I'm awful hard on dress, you know-
Women, you forget that you are the
mothers of creation ; you forget your sons
were cut off like grass by the war, aud the
ianu was covered with their Mood ; vou
rig yourselves up in pauuiers aud Grecian
beuduacks aud flummeries; yes, and
mothers and gray haired grandmothers
wear high heeled shoes ai.d humps on
their heads, and put them on their babies
and stuff them out so that they keel over
when the wind blows. Oh! mothers
I'm ashamed of ye ! What will such
lives as you live do for humanity ? When
I saw them women on the stage at the
Women's Suffrage Convention, the other
day, I thought, what kind of reformers be
ye with goose wings on your heads, as if
ye was going to fly, and dressed in such
ridiculous fashion, talking about reform,
and women's rights. 'Pears to me you
had better reform yourselves first. But
Sojourner is au old body, and will soon go
out of this world into another, and wants
to say when she gets there, 'Lord I have
done mv whole duty, aud kept nothing
back.'"
Value of a Word. A young lady of
seeming refinement met the effort of an
escort to awaken her enthusiasm over the
gorgeousness of an October forest in
Maine, by saying, in answer to his well
turned periods, "Oh! yes well enough
but they (the leaves) look pretty well
played." His sentiment and his esteem
went out together.
A eroded horse-ca r: First passenger
(to sturdy laborerstanding in front ofhim)
1 say there ! I've got toes ! Second passen
ger Y-e-s (a gleaaa of intelligence light
ens his face), I felt 'em. -
Give your tongue more holidays than
your hand or eyes.
Time Courting
3Iarria;re.
and
We fiod the following scrap of early
history in the Rutland Herald :
Early in the month of January, 1791,
Dr. Jonathan Arnold, of St. Johnsbury,
and Enos Stevens.. Esq., of Barnet, visited
Charlegtown, N. II., on a very interesting
errand. It was no other than to obtain
for themselves wives, such being the pau
city of females at that early day that
none were to be obtained in the towns
where they resided.
The manner iu whick this was brought
about was this. Dr. Arnold, ' being for
some purpose on a journey down the riv
er, put up for the night with Mr. Stevens.
In the course of the evening their forlorn
condition was talked over, when they mu
tually coincided in the conclusion that
nothing could be done to remedy their cir
cumstances in that northern wilderness.
Accordingly, to employ the language of
31 r. Edward T. Fairbanks, the historian
of St. Johnsbury : "An, expedition to
Charlestown No. 4, N. II., was immedi
ately planned, to take effect on the mor
row ; 4he object being to spy out the
available daughters of the land."
On their arrival at Charlestown they
immediately called on Samuel Stevens,
Esq., a brother of the aforesaid Enos to
whom th-iy made known their wishes,
and after due consultation aud considera
tion, it was agreed to issue invitations to
Cynthia Hastings and Sophy Grout, re
questing their company at tea, it being
understood by the contrivers ot this plot
that the two strangers from Vermont
shoull accompany them home.
In anticipation ot a possible emergency,
it was deemed advisable that Mrs. Squire
West should also be in attendance, to play
the part of umpire in case both gentlemen
should claim the same lady.
lea-time arrived and so did the unsus
pecting maidens. The evening passed,
but when the hour of departure came,
Cynthia Hastings seemed to be in double
demand. The ladies still remained in
blissful ignorance of the conspiracy, Mrs.
Squire West was called for, and consti
tuted referee. She very sagely argued
that Sophy Grout was admirably adapted
to be the companion of a farmer, (Mr.
Stevens was a tiller of the soil) but as
for Cynthia, it was much more suitable
that she should be attended by a profes
sional man.
The wise decision of Mrs. West, especi
ally grateful to Dr. Arnold prevailed,and
before separatinir that uisht, each of the
gentlemen from the north had made
knowi to the parties most concerned the
spe'u! object of his visit to Charlestown.
Sophy G rout suffered somewhat from pa
ternal interference, "rounded on tho fact
that Stevens, durino the war, had espour-
ed the cause of the mother countrv. and
was therefore a tory. But she was final
ly told that if she would marry an old to
ry she might, only she could carry nothing
from the ancestral domain but herself and
a cow. A tew (lavs later ; the afflicted
Grout family witnessed the departure of
Sophy with Stevens.
The Do -tor experiencing less difficulty
in preliminary arrangements, went forward
to Rhode Island, where he remained a few
days, and on his return was accompanied
to St Johnsbury by the aforesaid Cynthia
of Charlestown, who subsequently became
the mother of Lemuel Hastings Arnold,
who nas boru at St. Johrwibury, educated
at Providence, and was Governor of
Rhode Island, in 1841-2. He was also a
member of the Governor's Council during
the Dorr rebellion, member of Congress in
184o-47, and continued to be regarded as
an accomplished and a ripe statesman till
his death, which occurred at Kingston,
June t27th,185-.'.
So much for the son of Cynthia Hast
ings. ow what ot Sophy Grout?
She was married in Charlestown, March
4th, 1791, and her oldest son, Henry Ste
vens, was born Dec. lrfth, or the same
year. I his son, though he beca me no
Governor, was yet a very distinguished
man. He was representative from Barnet
iu'the years 18,20-27, and was President
of the Vermont Historical Society for ma
ny years ;-his historical collections con
sisted of o485 bound volumes, 6500 pam
phlets, and 4UU volumes oi newspapers,
and probably 20,000 letters, bearing date
from 1726 to 18,)4. He also had the old
field-books of all the town lines surveyed
by James Whitlaw, Esq., and his deputies.
He had three sons; Enos, who graduat
ed at Middlebury College, Henry whograd
uated at Yale, and George, who received
his education at West Point, bat is now
dead. Henry, after obtaining his educa
tion, went to IiOndon, where for a time he
was employed in purchasing rare and
valuable books for several American gen
tleman. In 1840 he was employed by
the Trustees of the British Museum, to
make up a catalogue of Americau works,
not found in the library of that institution,
and was then employed to furnish these
works, also a complete set of all the pub
lic documents published by Congress, and
all such books as contain the general liter
ature of the State, a business which very
few meu are competent to perforin. He
was appointed agent of the Smithsonian
Institute, in 1848, aud is still, we are
told, employed by the United States Gov
ernment iu selecting valuable works, and
public documents of the Governments of
Europe, for the Congaessional library.
Such was the romantic marrianre of two
Charlestown girls of the olden time, and
its result.
Postal Matteus. The forthcoming
annual report of Postmaster General Cres
well for the fiscal year ending Juue oO
last will show the receipts from sales of
stamps, stamped envelopes aud wrappers
have been $10,501,000, an increase over
the previous year of 1,400,000, and that
the total cost of transporting the mails,
including tho compensation of route agents,
pasiengers and other transits, $12,355.-
543, an increase over the previous year of
feOi 8,102. I ho lengths of the routes,
however, was 231,232 miles, or 7,507
miles greater than in 1869, au ajrirreMte
distance of transportation of 97,024,006
miles, au increase of 6,301, o93 miles.
The money orders issued represented $34,
054,000, being more than 9,000,000 over
the previous year. Orders paid represen
ted $34,000,000." After paying expenses
there was a net profit of $90,000, The
number of post offices in the United States
June 30, was 28,482 ; established during
the year, 2,359 ; discontinued, 952 ; do
mestic letters during the year, 3,032,045,
an increase ever the previous year of 4 57
100 per cent.; foreign letters received
220,475, an increase of 14 9-100.
The ground-work of a manly character
is veracity or . the habit of truthfulness,
That virtue lies at the foundation of every
thing said. .How common it is to hear
parents say :
"1 have faith in my child so long as he
speaks the truth. He may have many
faults , but I know he will not deceive,
build on that confidence."
They are right. It is a lawful and just
ground to build upon. So long as the
truth remains m a child, there is some
thing to depend upon ; but when the truth
is ooe. all is lost, unless the child is
speedily won back again to veracity.
Children, did vou ever tell a lie ? If
so, you are in imminent danger. Return,
at once, little reader, and enter the strong
hold of truth, and from it may jou never
depart again.
Old
Solitary Confinement.
We remember a few years ago Dr.
Phelps of Windsor made a report to the
legislature upon the case of one or two
men confined in our state prison under
sentence of death. They had been kept
there several years aud the Governor did
not issue his warrant, at the end of the
first twelve months of their incarceration,
for execution, as the law required. Dr.
Phelps gave the most melancholy picture
of the effect of their imprisonment upon
the minds and bodies of these men, and
concluded with the inference that the ex
ecution of the sentence of death by hang
ing was a far more reasonable, merciful
and Christian penalty than solitary con
finement. We do not know that in either
of these instances there was any remark
able severity, anything more than the
wear upon the spirit of a protracted con
finement, shut out from the blessings of
earth, and all the joys of human society.
In fact this is the chief torture of such
a penalty. The murderer who is sen
tenced to imprisonment for life, under our
present system, bids, farewell to hope
when he enters within the sepulchre of
stone which is to be his tomb, long even
before his death. Thenceforth he is not
at liberty to raise his eyes to the light of
heaven. His tongue is to keep perpetual
silence. His miud is to work upou itself
and its wheels are to revolve, not about
any useful work and business of life, but
about its own reflections, sorrows, fears
and hopeless agonies. The spirit is to
work upon itself, without rest or diversion ;
consuming, fretting, wearing and tearing
its own structure. He who enters there
leaves all hope behind him forever.
What can be the effect upon a sensitive
organization but madness, the wildest lu
nacy; and upon a stupid and brutal or
ganization but idiocy ? To such, a slow,
consuming process, in which mind, heart
and body are devoted to perpetual, unin
terrupted torture, the scaffold is a mercy,
aud the guillotine a very angel of God.
But, besides great criminals, others are
subject to a similar discipline in our
state prisons. It may not be the same in
kind. The mau who goes there is subject
in a greater or less degree to the influence
which weakens and demoralizes the moral
and intellectual nature. We do not know
that tho extreme rigidity of our prison
systom has been relaxed in the last few
years. We do not know that the convicts
are more likely to come forth from their
incarceration reformed and better men.
We do not know that the legislature has
made any better or adequate provision for
their religious, moral and intellectual in
struction, for correcting their vicious pro
pensities aud bringing them under health
ful influences. If the system has been
modified and made more corrective and
reformatory and produced a more salutary
effect upon the hearts and consciences of
the prisoners, and given them iu any de
gree more self-respect and self-control,
aud qualified them any better for the so
cial responsibilities they have violated,
we have not yet learned it )u the other
hand, we think our prison system remains
unimproved, aud that our state prison aud
jails still maintain their anomalous and
stationary position in the midst of the
ameliorating influences of our Christianity
and civilization. The moral and relijious
instruction of the convicts is a matter of
routine and formality. No chaplain is
employed for the full time and with ample
remuneration.
The church of the state prison is iu the
corridors of the cells. The message of
God's grace reaches the eats of the prison
ers through the doors of their cells, or iu
the preseuce of all the signs of their hu
miliated condition. No chapel, separated
from the ordinary scenes of prison life,
with its sweet instrument of music and
its hallowed associations, peculiar to the
presence of God, and to the higher and
nobler life, "where for a time crime may
escape from the sight of its penalty, aud
seek pity and pardou at the feet of the
Son of Man, has ever yet been provid
ed by our Christian state for its disobedi
ent and rei'ractorv sons. The Sundav
comes to us, and lures us from our bust
ness into the presence of God ; but no
Sundav with its needful songs and wor
ship and bright associations, and celestial
mpulses ever dawns upon the occupants
of these stone walls, or offers thein its
hopes of reformation and immortality.
lhe prison oujht to have an earnest pas'
tor within it, and not to have a mere per
functory four o'clock service, divested of
all holy associations. But we do not
hear that it has. Aud it is obvious that
something remains to be done ia the b
half of these outcasts of society, who have
exposed themselves to the dread penalties
ot our prison system. W hat that is we
shall soon discuss. Meanwhile we are in
clined to believe that the model prison in
A. D. ltJOO will be more like the Re
form scpool at Waterbury, than like the
the institution which now more nearly re
sembles the Inferno of Dante, than it does
the ideal prison of a Christian common
wealth.
A Simple Weather Glass.
This little instrument, says the Journal
of Applied Chemistry, is prepared in the
following way : Take a- glass about ten
inches in length, and one inch in diameter,
fill it up with the following liquid : Two
parts camphor, one part nitrate of potash,
and one part sal ammonia, aud dissolved
iu spirits of wine, add water until you
have partially precipitated the camphor.
The extremity of the tube can be left open
or hermetically closed. The glass tube
thus prepared is thu fixed iu a horizontal
position against the wall or a board.
1 he changes in the weather are thus
indicated :
1. If the weather is to be fine, the
composition of the substance will remuin
entirely at the bottom of the table, and
and the above liquid will be perfectly
clear and transparent.
2. Before the weather changes to be
come rainy, the precipitate will raise by
degrees, and small crystalizations, similar
in shape to stars, will be seen to move
about the liquid.
3. When a storm is imminent, the pre
cipitate will nearly rise to the top of the
tube,' assuming the shape of a leaf, or an
assemblage ot crystals; the liquid will ap
pear to be in a state of effervesceuce.
This change very often takes place twenty-four
hours before the change in the
weather.
4. The side from which the wind will
blow in a squall will be also indicated by
the particles of the substance floating in
the liquid and assuming the shape of long
hairy needles.
5. In the summer time, the weather be
ing warm and dry, and crystalization will
have a tendency to remain lower in the
tube, the the liquid will also be more
transparent.
The amount of crystalized particles
whieh will be seen floating in the liquid
will be sure sign or indication of a fine or
bad weather ; will depend entirely upon
the suddenness of the change in the weath
er which is to take place, acting in the
most energetic way oil the composition
above described.
The value of this simple instrument to
forewarn of an impending storm, also to
indicate the continuance of fine weather,
will be reaUily appreciated by those whose
occupations are affected in the change of
the weather.
' An over-worked horse is like an um
brella t's used up.
A Test of Character.
BY KEV. W. J. M'COKD
Tests ot character are needed. e are
very liable to be deceived in regard to our
own character, and hence, we need some
thing to show us what is in our own hearts.
We arc so situated, and things are so ar
ranged around us, and events so occur,
that our professions and our piety shall
be tested. We live in a world which is
emphatically a wcrld of trial. No one
can pass through the world without ob
taining some knowledge of himielf, nor
without being pretty well known by oth
ers. We may make what professions aud
pretensions we please, we can not very
well so conceal our own characters from
ourselves but that we shall meet with
something which shall tear away the veil
and give us an undisguised view of our
own hearts. And whatever may be our
professions or pretensions, something is
sure to occur, at one time or another,
which shall" enable the world to read us
through. The matter of benevolent con
tributions is a test of character ; it is an
experiment by which our professed sub
jection unto the Gospel of Christ is proved
or tested.
It in true that this is not an infallible
test. People may give from selfish and
improper motives ; they may even sell
their possessions, as did Ananias and
Sapphira, and yet be hypocrites at heart.
They may bestow all their goods to feed
the poor, and yet be destitute of genuine
charity or love ; and so men who have
not been trained to benevolent effort, may
give with comparative reluctance, or give
but little, and yet be real Christians. Yet,
although this may not be an infallible test,
and a very important test of Christian
character,' it tests our attachment to
Christ and His cause. How much has
He done for us ! When we were perish
ing. He interposed, assumed our place,
and laid down His life for our redemp
tion. He came unto His own, ana His
own received him not. What a life of
poverty aad toil He lived ! What a death
of shame and ignominy he died ! What
an example of devotion and patient toil
did he set ! How irresistable the appeal
from His condescension : "For ye know
the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that
though he was rich, yet for your sakes he
became poor, that ye through His poverty
might be rich ! Look at what your
Savior has done ; remember the blessings
He has bought you with His blood, and
then ask what return you should make,
aud what are dollars and cents in com
parison with what your Savior has done
for you ? What are earthly treasures in
comparison with His sufferings '? Go to
Gethsemaue, and witness His agony ; go
to Calvary, and view the expiring Re
deemer on the cross ; and thus iearn the
debt of- gratitude you owe ! And if Jesus
Christ has done so much, should you cot
love him in return, aud show your love in
acts which cau be seen, iu deeds which
can be felt by your fellow-men ? And how
can you show your love ? See his poos
followers a cup of cold water given to
them shall not be unnoticed ; acts of kind
ness to their Lord ; and He will say, "In
asmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least ot these my brethren, ye have done
it unto me." See the poor heathen, per
ishing without the knowledge of the
Savior ; and can you love Him. aud yet
withold the Gospel from them, when He.'
hassaid, "Go, teach all nations , go, preach
the Gospel to every creature." See the
multitudes destitute of the Word of God,
aud the preached Gospel ; and where is
your attachment to Jesus Christ and His
cause in the world, if you make no effort
to place iu their hands the Inspired Vol
ume which is able to guide them into the
way of life, and to send them the living
preacher ? If, then, an opportunity is
given you to contribute for the Lord's
poor, or to send the Gospel to the desti
tute, or to diffuse the Word of God among
men, your love to Christ is brought to a
test ; and it is a very serious question
whether, supposing it to be in your power
to give, you can possess love to Christ,
and yet withhold your contributions. He
hath said, "Whosoever will come after me
let him deny himself, aud take up his
cross, aud follow me."
'The man who marks, from day to day,
In generous acta, his radiant way ;
Treads the sinie path his Savior trod.
The path to glory and to God."
Who is the Greatest ?
There are many young men in the
ministry and many others contemplating
it, with a desire to devote their lives to it.
These young men, or a majority of them,
at least, desire to be great preachers. It
is natural, yea more, it is right they should.
He who engages in any vocation, and lacks
the zeal and euergy that aspire to some
thing higher than mediocrity, is sure to re
main in the lower ranks. It is this burn
ing zeal to do something great for God's
glory and honor, this noble aspiration to
be a master workman, that enables the
faithful minister to heed Paul's admonition
to Timothy : "Study to show thyself ap
proved unto God, a workman that needeth
not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the
word of truth." ia the ministry, as else
where, "there is room enough upstairs"
the lower rooms may be crowded, but
"up stairs'" never.
But what is great preaching? Who is
the greatest preacher ? There is a divers
ity of opinion. If, as some men seem to
think, the great object of preaching is to
make a name, to draw crowded he uses,
to create a sensation, then surely the
greatest preacher is he who makes the
greatest name, and creates the greatest
seusition. But Paul says : "We preach
itot oursdvet, but Christ Jesus the Lord,
and ourselves voar servants for Jesus'
sake." if the object of preaching is
to overwhelm the mm'! with a great dis
play of ltnruiu.'j, to delig'at the imagina
tion with giowing conceptions, or dazzle
the fancy with scintillationsof beauty and
loveliness, mingling in kaleidoscopibal cor-
ruscations. the greatest preacher is he who
is most successful in these things. But
again Paul says: "I had rather speak
five words with my understanding that by
iny voice I mi:ht teach others also, than
ten thousand words in an unknown tongue."
And airain : "Christ sent me to preach
the gospel not with wisdom of words , lest
t he cross of Christ should be made of uoue
effect" And what says the Master?
How reads the commission ? "Go ye in
to all the world and preach the gospel to
every creature. He that believeth and is
baptized shall be saved ; but he that be
lieveth not shall be damned." Two
things are very plainly taught here.
1. We are to preach the gospel.
2. The object of preaching is the salva
tion of souls. Then the greatest preacher
is he who preaches the gospel most faith
fully, and is instrumental in saving the
greatest number of souls, either by bring
ing sinners to repentance or building them
up in that holiness without which they
cannot see the Lord.
Siiekp Ticks, A writer to the Ameri
can Institute Farmer's Club gives tho fbl
lowing method to expel sheep ticks : "1
feed sulphur. It not only keeps them off
sheep, but drives them. 1 ieed it with
salt mixed in equal parts, at the rate of
three pounds ot sulphur to one hundred
sheep. ; TBen after five days I give anoth
er dose, the same as the first. Before
begin dosing, I let them get' salt hungry."
The Fanner's Home.
Farmers' wives and daughters can do
very much toward making the toilsome
life of the farmer a pleasanter and hap
pier oue. When returning from the field,
the bam, or the dreary winter's ride from
the city, cold, hungry, and perhaps dis
couraged as who is not at times ? tho
cheerful greetiug of a smiling, neatly
dressed woman, and more than all, tho
blazing fire and well-laden supper fable
waiting only for father, will do much to
lighten any burden, and inspire him with
renewed activity for business and life.
No good housekeeper, or duty -loving
wife, delays the preparation of meals of
the day till after or just before the com
ing iu of the men from the field. How
tedious it must be for them to be obliged
to wait for the food which should have
been previously prepared ! How un
pleasant to them to move from this side
to that, and from that to this, that you
may get nearer the stove or the oven, thus
reminding them that they are in the way,
when the fault is really your owu !
Then if you have had trouble with
your hired help, or the children have been
unusually cross, do not weary your hus
band with your fretting and complaints,
and unless you are sick enough to need
his active attendance, or the advice of a
physician, do not tell him of it ; nothing
weakens the strings of affection sooner
than a constant fault-finding disposition.
Do not excuse yourself from the duty of
making home pleasant, because your hus
band is cross and morose. May not your
dilatoriness in household matters have
something to do with this ? At any rate,
try the better way ; make home cheer
ful and pleasant to your husband and
children, and at the same time you will
find that life and home will have new
charms, and new comforts unfelt before
for you.
Making Good Coffee. The mating
of good coffee is a rare thing iu this coun
try ; most persons boil it, thus making a
decoction instead of an infusion ; this
effectually gets rid of the delicate and
agreeable aromatic flavor, aud leaves a
comparatively tasteless beverage. The
following particulars will be found worth
attention :
Never buy your coffee ground, but grind
it yourself, immediately before using it ;
keep your coffee-pot, whatever kind you
may use, wiped clean and dry inside ; a
lamp tea or coffee-pot, acquires a musty
davor that spoils the best tea or coffee.
The cheapest and perhaps the best coffee
pots are those made on the French plan,
:alled eafetieres. If you have not one of
rhese, adopt the following plan : Put your
reshly ground coffee Into the coffee-pot,
previously made warm, and pour upon it
water actually boiling ; set the pot by the
side of the fire for a few seconds, but do
uot let it boil up, then pour a cupful out
and return it back again to the pot in order
to clear it ; having done this let it stand
on the hob or centre to settle, and in less
'thau five minutes a transparent, strong,
aromatic cup of coffee may be poured out.
the proportions ot coffee (whiph should
not be too finely ground) recommended, are
an ounce to a pint or a pint and a half of
water.
The milk used with coffee should al
ways be boiled and used as hot as possi
ble; the boiling of milk imparts a peculiar
aud exceedingly pleasant flavor to the
coffee. White sugar is recommended as
the molasses like flavor of moist sugar
quite overpowers the delicate aroma.
(aermantown l elegraph.
A Little "Wisdom.
After all Josh Billings has some sense
mixed up with his nonsense, as witness
the following apothegms from his ."Farm
er's Allminax," for 171, translated iuto
good English :
All the good Indians die young.
Mankind love mysteries. A hole in
he ground excites more wonder than a
star up in heaven.
Just about as ceremonies creep .iuto
one end ot a churn, pietv wrck-s out ct
the other.
Gravity is no more positive evideuce of
wisdom, than a paper collar is of a shirt.
There are some folks in this world who
spend their lives hunting after righteous
ness, and cau t find any time to practice it.
A man with a very small head is like
a pin without any, very apt to get iuto
things beyond his depth.
lhere is no passion ot the human heart
that promises so much, aud pays so little,
as revenue.
Every time a man laughs he takes a
kink out of the chain of life, and thus
lengthens it.
Secrets are poor property ; if you cir
culate them you lose them, and if you
keep them you lose the interest on the in
vestment. To briug up a child iu the way he
should go, travel that way yourself once
in a while.
Quarter Crack ix Horses' Hoofs.
Many pirns have been devised by which
to heal a quarter crack, such as scoring
with a knit';!, blistering, cutting with a
sharp, hot iron, riveting aud the like ; ail
whieh, in inany cases, have proved a iai!
i::v. Njw, if yua will follow my direc
tions, you may have a sound fiwt iu three
months. Above the crack, aud next to
Uie hair, cut with your knife an incision
ono-ha'f inch long, crosswise of the crack,
and one-eighth or one-sixteenth ot au
inch deep. " Now, from the incision, draw
a line one-iuartef iuch each side, parallel
with the crack, down to the shoe ; theu
with your knife follow those iii.es, and
cut through the eDainel, or crust of' the
foot. Now, there is a piece of the crust
to be taken out. I his is uone bv loosen
ing the top of the piece next to tho hair
with vour kuife, then with your forceps
tike hold of the piece and pull it off; that
leaves a space of one-half inch of the crust
taken out from the hair down to the shoe.
Fill the cavity with tar, and lace on a
soft piece of leather to keep the tar in its
place, i
Keep the animal quiet for three or four
days, aud he is ready to drive. Shoe with
a bar shoe, leaving some spring to the
heel so it will not bear hard upon the
weak quarter, and in three months you
will have a sound foot. The bar shoe is
often exceedingly useful. It is the con
tinuation of the common shoe around the
heels, and by means of it the pressure may
be taken off, in some measure, from some
tender part of the foot, and thrown on an- .
other which is better ablo to bear it, or
more widely and deeply diffused over the
whole foot. It is resorted' to in cases of
corns, pumiced feet, and quarter crack,
etc. In such cases the bar shoe cau be
used to advantage, but it should be left off
as soon as it can be dispensed with. Any
intelligent blacksmith can make them.
Never be sorry for any generous thing
that you ever did, even it it was betrayed.
Never be sorry that you were magnanim
ous, if the man was mean afterward. Nev
er be sorry that you gave. It was right
for you to give, even if you were imposed
upon. You cannot afford to keep on the
safe side by being mean.

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