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HEN: F. STANTON, KMTOH AND M'llI.IHHKII. TKItMS OK SUBSCRIPTION l ono cupy oii year I'J.OO If iIU nctly In uilittiioe, t.0 fuSINKSS CARDS HHADFOKU. EATON te (ill. rAUDWAKK, IRON. STKKL, 1'OAU Nails, t.'ul Itr.v, HeoiU. Glass. It. llini;. i-daife, 0. Wholesale ma l(tuil. Mill n M. l'HK'llAKD it HAY. MMtKION AND DOMESTIC DK Y GOODS G nit's r uruUli ini! Goods. IIiiIh mill Culm, ocories, Toii, Knit, Fish, I'ork, I.unl iiii.I iintry PhhIhoh. Main Street. ORW GAMHKLL, Jit. nwnliUL'V i. ...kllVLI'l I nu IT I A W Muster mill Sulicitor in Chancery, BRADFORD 1IRA8S BAND. E. WHIIVOMH, LKADISKj L. It. JWe- Diitt'oc, Clerk. Music furnished lit iiMonahle rates. H. 11. ALLEN. HOTOOI!AI'1IIO ARTIST. ANI DKA- ll'l 111 HelonsCimoS ailll. WeWS, Alliums, ill l'ictiirn h'riiiue. Ki-nuio- for W rent lis ill kimlH Kil ted tu Oiiliir. Nu. 15 und Hi urdy's Hiiililini;, G. L. HUT LIC It. ARLOU. CHAMBER AND KITCHEN t iirnttiire, tenuis, l. linkers, itoues, i.iim, IlltllS, Mllslcul IlltrltlllClltS, Sco. 1st uuor mil of Trotter House, Minn Ht, C. JI. IIARDINU. TA TOM IS 8, C LOCK 8. .1 E W E L it Y, T Spooturles, Stationery, und Yankee No- lunii. Watches iiiiu jewelry repuireu nnu u mm led. 1'nstOlhce Huildiujt, J. A. HAUDY. Hlock & WATCH MAKKK, .lEWELEH, Vj Ont-iciun, mill Dealer in reliable Wat -lies. IVork Olllcc iionr hi Residence. Established Ictober IH'J. RO.SW K.LL FAR N II AM. 1 TTOHNKY & COl'XSKLLOIt AT LAW ' Muster anil Solicitor in Chunccry uml 'cusiou mid Claim Ajjent. J. B. ORMS1IV. IIYSIC!AN AND SITRGKOX. ROOMS fnrine.lv ncciuiicd livJ. N. Clitrk. Deli st. Speoiul attention puiif to Female discuses id diseases in riiti iiiiiu. II. STRICKLAND. RON FOUNDER & MACHINIST, AND Manufacturer of Agricultural implements. 0. lfl. l'UTERS. I VERY STAIILE. IHIUU TEAMS KL'R- nislied tit rcusniinhlc prices, Stable ill losideiicc, Main St., Himlfoid. . 0. P. CLARK. KY GOODS, GKOCKKIES.IIIAHIJWAUK it Klour. Suit, l'uper HiiiiKiiiiM. Huts, Caps, liurl Couutrv Produce. Main Slr.'i't. Hi-udfoi-d. DR. J. N. CLARK. DENTIS1 li). ALL THE MODKKN1II nrovvniciits in the art. Knnuis No. II mil i Hardy's llnililiii)!, Hrudford, Vermont. .1. A. WARREN. AD1KS', MISSES' AND CIIILDHEN'S l J Hunts, Shoes., Slippers, anil Kuhhi-rs Wen's I'll irk Kip anil Call Hoots. Hint ouali Lou prices, liouk .stoi-i'.Maiii St.,l-'i'aillot'.l J. II JONES, M D. ITTOMtEOl'ATIIlC I'VSlClAX AND J-irSiirjitoii. Ollico at ltHiilt'iii'v. Jut Door Suiilh of liunk, liniill nil, Vt. JJ. T. 1'ILLKUl RY. IOTDVES, TIN WARE. 1IMN WAKE. WnoiU'ii Ware, Ao. Muin St., Itrnilfonl. C. II. CURTIS. IVEAT AND PROVISION MA It KET. Il'l Mittn, Kii.li V.'utulil.'H, all I'h jIi ail, I iiiiu. 11 ineiiii iit, Mala St., Kruillunl. C. O. DOTY, AGT. 1 ANCEACTL'I.'ER OF .DR. DUTY'S ill Ct'U'brati.iI, Mantli'iiki! Hittri-N.KIavoi'iiiL. Exti'iii'tM itnil i.s((im'cfi, ,Vo., at WlioliKalo anil lift nil. lliaiHiinl, Vt. E. S. 1'K.V.SLF.E. I'.VERY SI'AliLE. U)OD TEAMS KUR J nislii il ul nil ikuiiH, ami at n ioioiiitlilo pri- u.n. Slagt to iiml It'.'in Drpot. Apply nt Sta lilt; Otlirfc. ri-ar of Ti-oltui' Hoiikh. A. A. ll lWliN. ILOI K, ORAIN, MEAL. I'HOVKXDEIf, Slioi'td anil Has,solilat tlm Lowi-st Mar- kut iirko. Mills at thu Smitli unit of Hriul- toi'il il ai.. .1. M. WARDEN. 1.1IXK WATCHES. CLOCKS. JIVELliY, . Silver Wair, Spi'ulai'li H, Cutli-rv, Kevol- vern, rancy t.ooiU ami lov. rai'ticulai' ul- ti'iilion uivitn to Id', minis Kiiii' WittrlioH, Ollico W. U. Til.'ijiapli Co. Hiiiilfoiil, Vt. II. E. HARRIS. rilUOTTElt HOlSK, HRADKOItl), VT. X Coat'li to ami from all paMK;nj;ci' traiiiH, dny and nilit. W. II. CARTE It, M. D. AND St'Kd EON, UK A II- THIYSICIAN lord. V t. OtliL'O at. hi i-t-siiloio.f. 'nfi oiih Mi'dii inal Compounds, of Ug tried expo rieiice, and of moiloru iiuprovoinunt ; prepar ed liy liiuixi'lf, kept pitfiHiiinily ou hand for tlie. Iirnetit of tli itic-K and lumo. 111SS C1IARI.OTTK NELSON. rpEACHER OF PAINTING AND DRAW X int.'- Room in Academy Hniltliii", lirad l'ord, Vt. EAST CORINTH. L. V. FOSTER. HOTEL. FLOUR AND GRAIN MILL. Rent of Flour ami Grain constantly on liaud. East Corinth, Vt. S. THOMPSON. rpiN SHOP. SHOVES. TIN WARE. IKON 1 Ware, Wooden Waro,&e, All kind of Job work neatly done. Kitxt Corinth, Vt. CORLISS & ROGERS, DRY GOODS. GROCERIES. READY Made Clothing, Hoots &. Skoes. c. Largest stock iu Eastern part of Grunge County. Eust Corinth, Vt. H. L. 1HXBY. KW" PHOTOGRAPHIC ROOMS, CHEL ll sea, Vt. Ontu Mondays, Thursdays uud Saturdays. EDGAR W. SMITH. ATTORNEY Jfc COUNSELLOR AT LAW, Wells River, Vt. Office with Judge Uu derwood. E. L. BOOTHBY. pHYSIClAN AND SURGEON, FAIRLEE, A t. Reters by permission to Drs. Carter and Doty, Bradford, Vt., and to Dr. Frost, Hanover, N. II. . J. F. JOHNSON. QTAR II ALL, ELY, VT. LARGE AND C? well fitted up forlaccoiniiiodution of Dances and all kinds of entertainments. Let at reas onable rates. C. II. SIBLEY. CARRIAGE TRIMMER, AND MANUFAC turcrofall kinds ol Harnesses. Repair ing done in the best manner. Alain St., Op posite Hotel, West Fairlee. J II. O L M S T E A D & S O N, Manufacturers of WOODSKAT I'll AI ItK of all kinds. SETTEES & RAILROAD CHAIRS specallty. Cane-Seats repaired. South Newburv. S7yl Vermont. One LIGHT BUGGY WAGON, open body. Palmer Springs, Steel Axles and Steel Tire. Has been run one summer, is newly varnished and in perfect repair. W ill be no'ld at a Bar giiu. 3w4 A. T. CLARKE. National VOLUME 9. The Kld of CwIIIiim (irincii. All Iiulili'iit of tin Klooil In MiiHHiu'liiiitrt t. on May HI, IHM. 1IVJI1MN BOVI.K o'llKII.I.V. No uniig of a Koldier ridiuu dowu To the iiikIihi lllil from WiueheHtiT town j No sonic of it lime thut shtaik Iheiiili'lll Witli tint n.llii.u'. throe lit H uutiou's birth I Hut tliu souk ( a briivi. iiiiin, fn'0 from li ar la Kliei'idiin's self or Paul Revere : Who risked what thev liskod, free from strife. Anil its promise, ol kIoi'ioiis pay IDs lite. Tim neaeeful valh-v has waked ami Stirred And the unsnrriii)! eelnais of life hik heurd ; Tim Hew 'till eliuiis to tlie trees ami tt"i"i And tliefarlv toilers sioilinir nass. An they cluiieeasideat "i whilo-wulled lioiue ill' up Hie valley, wneiv merrily conies The brook that sparkles in iliiiiuoiid rills As the sun conies over thu Haiiipshiro hills. What was it, that passed likn nu ominous lirentli. Likud shiver of fenr or u toiieh of death f What was it ? Tlie valley is peaeoful still, And the leaves are atire on top of tho hill. It was not n souml. uuru lliilm of sense Hut u pain, like the iianuof the short suspense Hint wraps tlie lieiiiK ol tnosn v- iio sou At their teet (lie KUll ul hlernity ! The uir of the valley has felt the ehill ; ho workers iiuiise at the doir ot the null : Tim lioiisewilu, keon to the shlveriiiK uir, i tresis her loot on the eotlaue stair, lnslinetive taiiL'ht liv the iiiolher-love. Ami tliiuks of the sleeping ones above I Why start the listeners ) Why does t lit) Of (lie niill-streaiii widen I Is it a horse, eourse Hark to I he sounds of Ills hoots, the v say, That Kiillopsso wildly Williamsburj; way I (loil! what was that, like a human shriek From the winding valley f ill nobody speak, Will nobody answer those women wuo ery t llie HWllll wuillllius looil.iei uy I Whenee e r. they f Listeu ! And, now they hear The sound of the eallopiuu horse-hoofs near ; I bey win ell the trieml ol tlie vale. Hint sou The rider, who thunders so menacingly, null waviuu iiilns anil wiiriiiui! sereain Tu I he home tilled bunks of the valley stream He draws no rein, but he shakes I lie street . VMth a shoiU. ami Hit' 111101 the i;alloplug feet. And this the cry that he flinjjs to the wind : "To the hilh fur ymir linen ! The flood in oeniiia ; " He cries and is amie; hut they know the worst be treacherous Williaiiisliur 1I11111 bus hurst ! i'he hasiu that nourished their happy homes Is changed to a demon It comes! It comes! A luousieriu aspect, wilh sbaun.v front Of shalt red dwi'llitis, to take the brunt Of the dwellings they shatter whito-iiiaiied ami hoarwe. The luurcile.ss tirror fills the course Of the narrow valley, and rushing raves, Willi Deulli on the first of ils liissiiiK waves, Till cottage and street ami crowdeu mill Are crumbled and crushed. Hut onward still, In front of the roaring tlood is heard flic galloping horse and tiie warning word. Thank Cod, tb.tt the brave man's lilu is spared ! From Williamsburg town he nobly dared To race wilh the liood and to take the road In front of tlx' lerrible swnih it mo ved. For miles it. thundered and crashed behind, Hut he looked ahead with a steadfast mind ; "77iry iitutit be vuriieit ! " was till lie said, As away 011 his terrible ride he sped. When heroes are called for, bring the crown To this Yankee rider; send iiiiu down On the stream of 141110 with tlie Curtius old; His deed as the Roman's was brave and bold. And tiie tale can as noble a-thrill awake. For hu ull't'i'tol his lite for the people's sake. THE OU), OU) XT0KY. "The course of true love ne'er did run smooth." 'Just ton yours a go, on this very spot, almost at this si'lf-saine hour, we parti'il !" cxclainiiMl Mrs. Trev eliyn to herself, us she Nat on a lit tle inoiss-t'overed seat lienealh the sliaile of an old oak. ".Just ten years, yet so lon, loniip)! Why do men say that life is short, and flies! Forme, nothing has flown, but my dreams," ; s she spoke, she shaded her still youthful and love ly face from the bright sunlight, and fell into a revery so dee), as to lie quite unconscious of approach ing footsteps. The intruder was a tall, handsome man, as yet, senrco in his prime, who, catching a glunpseof the lady, stepped quickly forward. I'.ut ere he could speak, Mrs. Trevellyn be came suddenly u ware of the presence of some one, and glancing at the figure- of the stranger, she rose as if to move away. With a half-audible apology, the. gentlemen raised his hat, and in a moment was lost in the thick shrub bery, while the sank back again up on the seat, as she said : " "l is lie ! my God, and ho does not know me ! Only ten years, and I forgotten." Yes, only ten years since these two had parted he a youth ot twenty-one; she the beautiful girl of seventeen summers. Clive Lee was just out of college : and before settling down to the study of his profession, lie was to spend two years in Europe. Jessie Trevellyn was si ill a school girl. But the two had met years before, and a child's love deepened into something tender and enduring enough for the exchange of lovers' vows. "You will write to me often," he said as they stood together beneath the old oak ; "von will write ine often, and on your coming birthday you will let me tell your lather how dearly 1 love you !" "Yes ! when I am eighteen, papa shall know where I have given my heart j meantime, lie knows you are my warm friend, and I well, I shall write you a few words each day BRADFORD, VERMONT, SATURDAY, 31AY 30, 1874. "Not so fast, little one ! Every day, lor a fortnight, ami in six weeks forget fulness of my very ex istenee." A look of mingled lovo mid re proach from her beautiful dark eyes a moment of silence, and he spoke again : " You have your own way, usual ly, have you not, Jessie V "I have rarely been ciossed in my life," she replied with a smile, "and since mamma dietl, poor papa seems only to livr for mo !" "Well, cara mio, listeu I When the fall comes, persuade your father to bring you nbroad for six mouths. You can study music and the Ian guages ; we can all be together. To learn a language thoroughly, make love in it, says an old scholar, Think of a winter for us in Italy! Yes, dear Jessie, if your wishes are commands your father will surely bring you to me, ore long." So thev naited. Clive Lee went over the ocean, and during the sum iner that followed, Jessie proved a most faithful correspondent. Early in the fall, Mr. Trevellyn was taken very ill, so that for many weeks he lay between life and death Letter after letter came from young Lee, which Jessie scarce found time to read, much less to answer. "Cousin John,"she said ono morn ing to Mr. Trevellyn's uephew, a young mini of twenty-five years of age, who had been a constant at tendant at her father's bedside ; 'Cousin John, you know I corres pond with Clive Lee, but poor papa's illness has left ine no time for my pen. Please write Clive, explain the cause of my . silence, and tell him," she added, with a tell-tale blush, "that we do not forget him," As soon as Mr. Trevellyn was able to move, his physicians ordered him South. It was not until they reach ed Key West (the point of destina tion) that Jessie had leisure for a careful perusal of Clive's letters. She noted with pain how they had grown less tender but reproachful in tone, till, at the last, they were colli and infrequent. "I am sure he cau't have received John's letter," she said to herself; nit I will write to day and explain all. Poor Clive! Yes, I will write this very day." For an hour her pen moved over and across the paper, tilling sheet after sheet with details of the past three months. As slits was sealing er letter, a knock was heard, and to her cheerful "Come in!" a tall figure appeared in the door-way. 'Good morning, fair cousin, 1 have just left your father very com- brtable. Have you any commands ?" "Thanks, John, just post this missive tor tun European man. What would papa and I uo without you ! Yon seem like his own son, and my own brother!" "1 am content to be his son, dear Jessie, but not your brother." "Cousin," said the young girl, scarce heeding his reply, "did you write Clive, as I asked you to do V "Did lever break a promise to you Jessie V 'I remember no promise, John, but simply my request. Poor Clive evidently knows nothing of papa's illness." "Oh no ! this pointing to the packet explains all." Weeks passed. No letters from young Lee came to cheer the heart of Jessie, as day alter day she sat in her father's sick-room. She grew pained ; then hurt; finally annoyed and indignant. Meanwhile, Mr. Trevellyn was growing weaker and weaker with each day, and conscious of his approaching end, he begged his daughter to reward the devo tion of young Trevellyn toward him self by giving him her hand. "I used to fancy, darling child," murmured the sick inau, "that young Lee loved you! But ho is far away, and too young to think of marriage. Johu worships you. lie has maturity, and much wisdom. I should die easier to see yon his wife and under his protection." With a heart half-broken at her lover's neglect aud her father's sink ing condition, Jessie consented to his dying request. A quiet bridal iu the sick-room, a few weary, sad days ot watching, and our heroine was au orphan. She begged her husband to take her back to her owu Louie ; aud iu another week she found herself once more nt their country seat, just out of New York. Thu evening after her arrival a letter was put into her hands, ad dressed to her maiden iiarue. She started at sight of tho old familiar "Miss Jessie," and grew pale to faintness as she tor open the en velope and recognized the handwrit ing. "What is tho matter T" asked Mr. Trevellyu, as ho marked her pallor. "I am tired, aud will go up stairs, I think." "Have you a letter !" ho asked. "Only a note from a frieud,'' sho quietly replied. Iu her own room, without wait ing even to close the ddor, she read a long, loving letter from Clive, full of self reproaches, and sympathy for her. An accidental meeting with a friend had given hiin the first intelligence of her father's ill ness, and their journey South. Why had not some friend written him for her ! lie had been so wounded by her silence. Now he begged for giveness for wordr of reproach and coldness. Might he write her f ather and claim her for his own Jessie? Time had no wings while he waited her reply now the impatient lover. Mr. Trevellyu finished his paper and cigar, looked at his watch, then left the room iu search of his wife. Through the open door of her room he saw her sitting silent aud motionless, tho fire of a chilly May evening shiuging upon her golden hair. "What a picture for my home," he softly whiskered, as he bent over her.- A face of marble whiteness, a trembling baud which grasped ihe etter, startled him into saying. "Dear Jessie, there should bo no secrets between man and wife. May I see the note which so strangely affects y ou V "You can not!" was the brief, measured reply, as she rose from her chair, no longer the timid, suf fering girl, but a wronged and out raged woman. "You can not read it, though I tell you from whose pen it came. Dearly I loved this man from whom your perfidy has forever separated me, My answer you shall hear, for I am your wife." she bitter ly added. " 1 1 shall be my care that it safely reaches Mr. Lee." A night of tears and agony for Jessie, of mingled remorse and rage for her husband, and she stood be fore him in the morning light, an open letter in her hand. 'Mr. Trevellyn, you will hear what I have written my friend: 'My Deak Mil. Lue; " After a long winter, passed in the South at the bedside of my father, I havu returned to my old home an orphan, but u wife. In the presence of my dying father I married his nephew, Mr. John Trevellyn. This brief note must be my reply to your letter written a ortiiight since. God bless you forever. " 'Jessus T .' " Years rolled on. John Trevellyn sought in the excitement of political life to forget tho past. Jessie's beauty and grace were everywhere icknowledgeJ; but it was the per lection of the statue which no lov ing heart and hand warmed into happy life. Withiu a few months after nine years of married life, Johu Trevellyn had died, but not before he had con fessed to Jessie in bitter, penitent humiliation, thedeceptiou practiced toward Clive Lee and herself. Free ly, even lovingly, she had forgiven him. But the old wound was not heal ed, and tho rememberance of her old lover now a diplomat at a for eigu court was ever one of mingled pleasure and pain. Ou tho morning of which we write, Mrs. Trevellyn had seen in a daily paper the announcement that Mr. Lee, after an absence of ten years, had returned to his native land for a brief visit. With a world of memories stirring her heart to its very depth, she had amost iuvoluntarily wandered out to the oltl trystiug-place. "Dow strange!" she said, as she slowly started toward her home, au hour later, "how strange that Clive should not know me ! If he but knew the truth ! But I can never tell him ; the honor of the dead for bids it." As Mrs. Trevellyn stepped toward the little stile which divided the woody upland from the meadow be youd, she saw Clive Lee, quietly Opinion setting on its lower step, like one who waits for another. As she came slowly forward, Uo sprang from his seat, and with outstretch ed arms barred her way, as he said "Jessie, I hnvo come for you ! '. demand my own that for which '. have so long patiently waited." There were no "whispering boughs," among tho silent groen trees, to tell us what the lovers said, Enough for us to know that three months later their was a quiet, but very happy wedding at tho old country-seat, and after that Clive Dee nnd Jessie went over the ocean to their new Eden, leaving behind them all the sorrowful past. A Correspondent of the Scicn tifus American writes as follows : "For the last twelve or fourteen yeurs I have been employed in a shop where there are over three huu died men at work, aud, us is the case in all shops of this kind, hard ly a day passes but one or more of us cut or bruise our limbs. At first there were but few that found their way to my department to have their wounds bound up ; but after a while it became generally known that a rag glued ou a flesh wound was not only a speedy curative, but a form idable protection against further in jury. 1 was soon obliged to keep a supply of rags on hand, to be ready for any emergency. I w ill cite here one among many of the cases cured with glue. A man was running a boring machine, with an inch and a quarter auger attached. By some means the sleeve of his shirt caught in the auger, bringing his wrist iu contact with the bit, tearing the flesh among the muscles iu a fright ful manner, lie was conducted to my department (the pattern shop) and I washed the wound iu warm water, and then glued around it a cloth, which when dry, sunk into a rounded shape, holding tho wound tight and firm. Once or twice a week, for three or four weeks, I dressed the wound afresh, aud it was well. Tho man never lost an hour's time in consequence. The truth of this statement hundreds can, testify to. I use of course the best quality of glue." Mr. Gordon Burnham, a patri otic citizen of New York, proposes, as his personal offering for tho ecle b ration of the coming centennial, to erect at his own cost a colossal stat ue of Daniel Webster, to bo placed ou a suitable site in Central l'ark. The statue is intended to be in every way worthy of the man aud the day, and will be a noble contribution to the artistic attractions of tho park, and of the country as well. This is given as tlie initiative ot a move ment of which Mr. W. S. Ward of New York is the author, and tho object of which is to persuade all cities, towns, villages aud individu als, so far as they have the power, to build or endow some monument, school library, museum or other me morial, which can bo recognized as a centeuial gift, and rehiain forever as a monument of generous patriot ism. Mr. Burnham's gift is in one direction, and is worthy of imita tion ; but there are many others equally worthy-. 4-- A. man in a rural town had a pet calf, which he was training up in the ways of an ox. The calf walk ed around very peaceably under oue end of the yoke, while the man held up the other end. But in an unfortunate moment tho man con ceived the idea of putting his owu ueck iu the yoke, to let the calf see how it would seem to work with a partner; this frightened the calf, and elevating his tail and voice, he struck a "diad run" for the village, and the man went along with hqad down aud his plug hat in his hand, straining every nerve to keep up, and crying out at the top of his vojee, Here we come ! llead us somebody ! " We all take things for granted. This was the case at a prayer-meeting in the northern part of Maine, when the pastor remarked that if any had relatives iu distant lands, prayer would be offered iu their be half. Thereupon a man of the peo ple arose and said, "I would like you to pray for my brother. He went away two weeks ago, and I havu't heard from him since, I don't know just where he is, but you needn't pray below Bangor." NUMBER 1. FOR BOYS AND GIRLS How Arthur Man Away. Arthur was a sturdy little fel low about five years old, With hair like sunlight ou n French marigold, and a little freckled face, that was a very pleasant face, too, when it did not happen to have a shade of discontent on it, as it did just now, Arthur was giviug his opinion quite freely to tho great yellow cat, who sat perched ou the gate-post, eyeing him with no very loving glances. You don't remember, but doubtless Kitty did, tho innumera ble times when Arthur had tied the string of "bell -peppers" rouud her ueck, and left her to sueeze her un ollcudiiig head off at her leisure; nor tho time ho tied her to the ves try door by the tail, aud sho faror ed tho company assembled at a Methodist watch-meeting with dis mal howls in varied keys. Well, as Arthur told his troubles to his feline frieud, she listeued witb grave attention, though a close ob server might have detected an ex pression ot latent malice in the small green disc of her eye. "I don't see why great big fellows, five years old, that dress their own selves, ought to be seut down town for a dozou pearl-buttons every time that Miss Scissors comes. Mother never gives me a chocolate-drop when I get back, either, aud Miss Ellis always does, and" Here his eyes fell on a tall angu lar figure, stalking down the lane, enveloped in an unusually gaudy shawl, and carrying a few necessa ry articles, such as a parasol, a bun die of patterns, a reticule, au extra shawl, &c. "Mother, you don't mean Miss Cecilia is coming here again ? " "Yes she is, " was the reply from within ; "and I want you " What she wanted Arthur did not stop to see, but darted up tho lane, as if grizzly bears were iu hot pur suit. Ho finally stopped before a huge old-fashioned house, with lavender, heath, and sweet-williams growing withiu the white palings, and yes, i fair youug lady just stepping out of the door. It was his Sunday school teacher. "Why, Artie," and Miss Ellis stooped for a kiss, "what brings my little boy up here at eight o'clock iu the morning ? " "Oh, I do'know, nothing particu lar," said Arthur indifferently. "I shonld't wonder, either, if I had run away." ltnn away ! aud the blue eyes grew souer, w ny, Artie ! uut i suppose you are going back at once ! Oh no, said Artie disdainfully, that wouldn't be running away at all. I shan't go home till to-mor- ow, anyhow, and perhaps I Bhan't for sixteen years. Miss Ellis smiled, but only said, If you will come with me, Artie, I'll show you a sad little sight, that is very different from your nice, pleas ant homo. The little boy we are going to see, has never walked iu his life ; his mother is dead, aud he lies all alone in his room, while his father is at work. I have been to see him very often, and have read to him, aud taken flowers to him ; but I am afraid I shall never do that any more. They wont into a dark, dirty, street, known as "Bag Alley," aud stopped before a house equally dark aud dirty, but into which a ray of light had fallen four years before. In a small room on a low bed lay a little creature, strangely bent and twisted, but with a face so sweet and touching in its beauty that Ar thur held his breath. The great, wonderful blue eyes had a light more of heavou than earth ; tho white forehead, where the blue veins showed plainly, was shaded by long curls of pale gold color. The face, with its look of patient suffering brightened as Miss Ellis entered, and a little thin hand was held out to her. I'm so glad you have come, he said, with a little sigh. What little boy is that ! It's little Arthur, Ted dy, said Miss Ellis ; he has come to see you, because he is so sorry you are sick. I am glad you are well little boy said Teddy gravely. Is father here ! A bundle of rags, with gray head, above, rose front its kneeling posi tion at the foot of the bed, and came round to touch the little face with a tender, loving touch. How long has he been so, Dennis I asked Miss Ellis. Since yesterday, mum, was the reply. The doctor says he can only last a little while uow, the little saint that he is, father's poor little patient saint t There were tears in his eyes, but he knelt down by the bedside, draw, ing his rough coat sleovo across his face. Little Teddy, asked Miss Ellis beading down, do you sufter much now ! Not much, ma'am : I am only tired now. I think I shall sleep soon. Yes, little Teddy, tho sleep is al most here. The little life of pain and deformity will soon become "one grand, sweet song," the song of re demption. Teddy, could you say a little pray er after me f I will say anything after you, be cause I know it will be so good. ma'am ; and the little voice repeat ed slowly : "Now I lay me dnwu to sloop, I pray the Lard my soul to keep ; II I should die before. I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to toke." Arthur, gazing through his tears, saw a wondrous change upon the little face. Teddy lifted his hand witb a lis tening look. Don't you hear the beautiful music f And after a minute, The bcauti- mnsie and the pretty light, shining for Teddy t Yes, the beautiful light had shone out for little Teddy, and would shine on him forever. After a while a little child walk ed into Mrs. Marden's kitchen and threw himself on her neck. O mamma, 1 was going to, run away and not come back for twenty-fire years ; and I went down to see lit tle Teddy, and he never wal ked at all, and he hadn't any mother, and he is dead ; aud,0 marama,don't you want me to go for some pearl-but tons f Max Adklkr's new book con tains tho following dedication : My original intention was to ded icate this book to the friends of my boyhood. Azanbin, Ghes, the Imauin of Muscat, in memory of the happy days, when together we play ed marbles in the Omen desert,duck ed each other in the Persian Gulf, aud tortured offensive cats on the island of Kishm. But I have chang ed my mind; I have resolved to dedicate tho book to a humorist-, who has had too little fame, to the most delicious, because the most unconscious, bumoris, to the widely- scattered aud multitudinous come dian who may be expressed iu the concrete as The Intelligent Com positor. To this facility of perpetrating felicitious absurdities, I am indebt ed for laughter that is worth a thousand groans. It was he who put into typo an article of mine which contained the injunction, "Do not cast your pearls before swine," and transformed the phrase into Do uot cart your pills before". It was he who caused me to misquote the poet's inquiry, so that I pro pounded to the world the appalling conundrum, "where are the varnish, ed dead ! " and it was his glorious tendency to make the Bubliino con vulsively ridiculous that refected the lino in a poem of mine, which declared that a " coma swept o'er the heavens with its trailing skirt", and substitued the idea that a . "count slept on a haymow in a trav eling shirt." The kind of talent that is here displayed deserves pro found reverence. It is wonderful and awful ; and thus I offer it as a token of my marvelling respect. The current reports about snow drifts and such things remind the Christian Union of a "Vermont story which we heard in our boyhood," On a July day, early in the pres ent century, the mail stage was passing over "Cabot plain," when a passenger observed a woman, arm ed with a broad, wooden shovel, digging into a snow drift by the road side. "Why, madam," said the traveler, don't yon take snow at the top of the drift, instead of tak ing tho trouble to dig so deep!" "Oh! "replied the woman, "the suow that is three or four years old is a great deal the best." Boston has a woman newspaper carrier eighty-seven years old. Ed- hange. The time has been wnen a great -i i i many young women iu uncu newspapers ; but fashions change. Advertiser. - A San Francisco man closed his saloon to allow a lady overhead to die quietly, and now sues the heirs for $350 for the favor.