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WEEKLY .\l:ul'.~ M Tm“. Monm- Cmny. V Y ALLII '11! "no! at Prom-Lu Joy (iv-HI II the Inning I hot “on Io run in the Inn mm, A“ u‘n Illa! um. . ud Inn-l. h‘ 0|! II"! b yvy Ohm the mm: In“! In [lnflow amount «4 bounty mull. We m In the mnnm not Olr ud bum lung (or Ihr mm, day. when the lmuhlu n! lilo dull raw. When flu lurk} undo-n nun fie guy. And the bow wc'u- cherished no mm (It ny— lu the «In F" darn-l pure. “(not lhm in gvh-f in the night :4 pain; There . lormwu nml hiuu In". Out but It toned on the hlllmvy main- But the gloomy shadows begin to wane, Pot the glorioun dly Ippurs. anow we Ire and when the rhllllnx hlnd 0! the emu-l of Death lellld 0n the cherlshed Imm: of the household head. And we long and nigh {or the better lend, Where the flowers shell never lsde. I know there I: peace in the “by and by," When the ulnte shall he gathered home. We shell 1m our eyes to the sunny sky, ‘And about. for joy as the ehldowe fly, And the glorious day Ihul come. —Lilla D. Avery. -_-=—___.-:_-= ' Wedding Fee Egfiaordinnry. It is not uncommon to hear of good natnred clergymen who accept a half bushel of beans or a few poun aof dried apples as a. recompense for performing a marriage ceremony; and there are in stances on record w new they have even omeiated on credit. But the Dominion ministers are made of sterner stufi'. A clergyman at East Bolton, Quebec, re cent y seized a bride as security for the non-payment of his fee by the imgecu nious bridegroom. and the husban had to give security for the $1.25 ere he could obtain his spouse. We clip the above item from one of our exchanges, but do not believe that many clergyman ever had a more laugh able experience in that line than one of, our best known New York preachers, who once accepted a strange fee, nolena octane. This is the story. Many years ago, he was sitting in the office of a lawyer who was one of his members, chatting on various subjects, and asthe pastor happened to speak of the hard times, and the dilatoriness of the church in paying his small salary, the lawyer remarked: “Now I hardly agree with you, pastor, ‘ in your assertion that ministers are paid , less for their work than any other class‘ of Yrofessional men. They have a rest dea given to them in one way and an other, donation parties, Christmas pres ents, etc. Then the item of wedding fees alone, which' you seldom hear them speak about, but which must. amount to quite a sum, several hundred dollars in the course of the year, brings them in a good rev enueJ “Do you think 303” said the clergy mnu. “Now to come right down to dots. what do you suppose is the average fee Ith I receive!" “I should say twenty dollars was a low estimate," eeid the lawyer. Here in New York I have often knowu persons to give one hundred dollars, and a fifty» dollar fee is quite common, but consider ing the fsct that you marry s good many of the poor, or those who are only mod erstely well off, as well as the rich, I should think, as I said, that twenty dol lsrs was a pretty low avenge.” “That celculution is rather large," said the minister, “but still I cannot tell exact ly, es 1 have not reckoned up what I have received this test year." “No.l presume not,” said the lawyer. “I have noticed that ministers don‘t gen erally know how much they have re ceived, when the sum is pretty large, but I rather think they would if it was a small one. But I will tell you what I will do. I will give you ten dollars for half your next fee, and don't: believe I shell lose anything by it either. Do you secept that?“ The minister hesitated s moment and then seid, “Yes, well, yes; I'll accept thigh—ten dollsrs for half the next fee." He soon bade him good morning, and went home to his dinner. While he was at the table the bell rang. and the ser vant came'in, saying a man at the door wished to see him a moment. He found I rough-looking farmer standing there, who Iccosted him thus: “Good morning, Dr. A. I came in to no if you could just tie me up, this morning. Sal and Ihave been talking about it a good while, and we've come to the conclulion that ‘tuint any use to wait no longer.“ “Oh, yes." laid the doctor, “walk in. Will in. Where did you want to be mar tied!" “Right here," Mid the farmer, “if you're willin'. 311': in the Wagon, and I’ll bring perju." _ _ ‘ ‘ 80 ha brought in a blooming country maid, and the minister, who had dofi'cd hi: gown and slipped on his best Sunday god-meeting cont, made them one. in his most impressive style. After the cere muy ad the congratulations, the farmer d: “About the fee. pastor, We bain‘t much money. but I thought your children might be fond of pew“) I m‘d Sal [ would just bring one of our pups." Sny ing which be tipped up 3 mm] box, and out rolled I little white pup upon the pine. -. ~'v' 1 1..tl m i‘uu _\' ||"lln h ~ ‘ "' .s-l '.‘-i|"i"_'l'"ll. 'l ‘ . "It ”-1. I -|..A‘ 'n‘fll'ni ' . : ‘.. PM“ I;na-t!I!L""‘i : 4 H '.-!.l'~i::.-v'"un _ " ' . : [- ‘-..'-?-. \ Link Alli-Hm ' x i'.l m ' ‘til‘il":s.|llili-‘Tlitt' an. - '| I ll - 'lil a..~ -'-. '.- Milli.“ I m n-r ‘ m ... uni Imt'iw I vlwl tr IMMi .‘. ~~ ' "l'\ "\ 9.|\ll'_ '29. Q“ 1, ~ M: a. “it i) l ‘H'II'P'J". _\"-l.'l ‘ r " :~ [ll- I:..ig, ’tul i-ii tutni lime in t m. .t s-A'H t- t ‘vm IL-m-i lhnrully :I. m l s! ..u. t Futu- u'u ptui it in: If“! k} v) tail kuuwnl wutuuntryncuuple i“ «iu. mm urem- ,u. h an unu-ual snd unruu'h-‘l it‘i‘, Hem-rally tin-w is not w mm In «i'li'rrrurr ill them. but this mm a pelt-wt slirpll-I' tn the." ‘ ~-_\'.. imi'kihg out. now." suid the law yq-v, "tint hmguin was fuir and square, and you I'lillrt hold to it. ilrre‘s your, uh «I '“lliP; hnnd over the (00!" The minim-r demurred a moment, told , him he should beware how he made such 1 rush promises again; but finally, unfast ening the cover of the bonsnid: “All right, l'll stand by the burgsin." tum bled out the pup upon the lawyer‘s desk, and with the blandest smile upon his lace, waving his hand and bowing polite ly. he said. “Here is the fee—which hay will you tnket" The blank look of amazement and dis gust w hich oversprend the countenance of the lawyer as he looked at the roll of puppiness, was amusing to see. “You don‘t mean it, that you married a couple, and that. was your fee?" “indeed it Was,“ said the minister, “and the farmer who presented it thought he was doing it handsome thing!" Then, with s hearty laugh, the lawyer handed him the gold piece, and told him that he thou ht he had nothing more to say in regardl to the enriching of minis ters hy wedding-fees.—Hra. James 8. Dickinson, in the Standard. The Christian Revenge. Obadiah Lawson and Watt Dood were neighbors. Dood was the oldest settler, and from his youth up had entertained a singular hatred against Quakers. There fore, when he was informed that Lawson, a regular disciple of that class of 'peopl'e, ‘ had purchased the next farm to is. he declared he would make him glad to‘ move away again. Accordingly a system i of petty annoyances was commenced by ‘ him, and every time one of Lawson’s hogs chanced to stray uson Dood's place, he «as beset by men an dogs and most savagely abused. Things went on thus for nearly a year, but the Quaker, a man of decided peace principles, appeared in no way to resent the injuries received at the hands of his spiteful neighbor. Mat ters. however, were drawingtoacriais, for Dood, more enraged than ever at the quiet of Obadiah, made oaths that he would do something before long to wake up the spunk of Lawson. Chance fa vored his design. The Quaker had a. high-blooded filly, just four years old, which he had been very careful in raising. Lawson took great pride in this animal, and had refused a large sum of money for her. One erening, a little after sundown, as: Watt Dood was passing around his corn field, he discovered the filly feeding in the little strip of prairie land that sepa rated the two farms, and he conceived the fiendish design of throwing 011' two or three rails of his fence that the horse might get into his corn during the night. He did so; and the next morning, bright and early, he shouldered his rifle and left the house. Not long after his ab sence a hired man whom he had recently employed heard the echo of his gun, l and in a few minutes Dood, considerably i excited and out of breath. came hurry-l ing to the house, where he stated he had i shot and wounded a buck, that the herd ‘ had attacked him, and that he had hard ly escaped with his life. This story was credited by all but the -newlytt-mpioyed band, who had a dislike to Watt, and, from his manner, suspected that something was wrong. He there fore slipped quietly away from the house, and going through the field in the direc tion of the shot, he suddenly came upon Lawson‘s filly stretched upon the earth, with a bullet hole through his head, from which the warm blood was still oozing. The animal was still warm and could not have been killed an hour. He hastened back to the dwelling of Dood, who met him in the ard and demanded, somewhat roughly, wiiere he had been. “l‘ve been to see it' your bullet made sure work of Mr. Lawson‘s filly," was the instant re to: t. Watt paied for a moment, but rec ‘ollecting himself he fiercely shouted, “Do you dare to say I killed hart" "How do you know she is deadi" replied . lthc man. Dood bit his lip, hesitated a Imoment, and then walked into the house. lA couple of days passed by, and the morning of the third one had broken, as the hired man met Lawron riding in search of his filly. A few words of ex planation ensued, when with a heavy heart the Quaker turned his horse and rode home, where he informed the peo ple of the fate of his tilly. No threat of recrimination escaped him; he did not even go to law to recover damages, but calmly awaited his plan and hour of re venge. It came at last. Watt Dood had a Durham heifer, for which he paid a heavy price, and upon which he counted to make great gains. One morning, just as Obadiah was sit ting down to breakfast, his eldt st son came in with the information that neigh bor Dood‘s heifer had broke down the fence, entered the yard, and after eating most of the cabbages, had trampled the i well-made beds, and the vegetables they contained, out of all shape—a mischief iimpossible to repair. “And what did itbee do with her, Jacobi“ quietly asked Hhatii‘h. “I put 111-r in the fum ytlrul." “llhl the-- hut her?" "i never bllltt'k her I blow." “flight. .ht'olo. tight. hit ulutn to thy “truthful. sud than (IIIDC eating I null nth-ml In tho- heifer " Manly ul‘ta-r he hml tini-hwi Lie to paint law-on mounted in none and Univ over to haul}, who run ~lttingunlhc~ Err-h In tront of the house. mini is- he held thn Quaker tii~mnuut, nuipow-l he Wu coming In QII'II‘IIIII'I [my for hiu titly. uul wrintly more he woulcl hm‘r ill L"! [lt lnl‘ for it, if It!‘ 11111. "(i-HNI tlmrntnu, neighbor 111-ml; how is thy tnmil)!" utluitm-«i titmiinh, us in tuountetl the rite.» untl M'MNI himself in n clnir. "All Well. I believe." mm the reply. “I lun'eniunell ntl'air to settle with thte this morning. and I came 5 rather enlly." “So I suplmm-fl' growled ' Watt. "This morning my run found thy ‘ Ihirlmm heifer in my garden. where she ‘ destroyed it good deal.“ “And “hut tlidj :he do with her!" demanded Dom], his ‘ brow darkening. “Anti nhat Would theej ilmve done with her, haul she been my; lheil'er in thy mudenl" asked ()budith “I'd have ehot. her." retorted Watt, mnd- i ly. “as I suppose you have. done, but we, are even now; heifer for filly is only 'titl for tet.‘ " "Neighbor Dood, thou know eat me not, if thou thinkest I would limrm a hair on thy heifer’s back. She is iiu my furm-yiird, and not even a blow Illls been struck her. where thee can get her at any time. I know thee shot my filly, but the evil one prompted thee to duit, and I lay no evil to my heart against my neighbor. I came to tell thee where thy heifer is, and now I‘ll go home.” Obadiah rose from the chair and was about to descend the steps, when he was stopped by Walt, who hastily asked, “Wlmt was your filly worth'l'y “A hun dred dollars is what I asked for her." re plied Obadiah. “Wait." And Doud rushed into the house, whence he soon returned with some gold. “Here's .the price of your filly. nnd hereafter let there be a nlensuntness between us." Obadiuh mounted his horse and rode home with a lighter heart, and from that day to this Dood has been as geod a neighbor as one could wish to have, be ing completely reformed by the returning of good for evil. Dyspepsia. It‘ a man wishes to get rid of‘ dyspepsia he mustgive his stomach and brain less to do. It; will he of m) uervice for him to follow any particular regimen—to live on chaff bread, or any such stuff—to weigh his food, etc. so long as the brain is in a constant btllte of excitement. Let that have proper rest, and the stomach will perform its functions. But if he .pnss fourteen or fifteen hours a day in his office or counting room, and take no ex ercise, his stomach will inevitably become paralyzed, and if he puts norhiutr into it lit a tracker a day it will not (Tigeat it. Iu many cases it is the brain that is the primary cause. Give that delicate organ some rest. Leave your business behind you when you go to your Ironic. Do not sit. to your dinner with your brows knit, and your mind absorbed in cusling up interest accounts. Never abridge the usual hours of sleep. Take more or less exercise in the open air every day. Al low yourself some innocent recreation. Eat moderately, slowly, and of what you please, provided it. should not be the shovel and tongs. If any particular dish disagrees with you, however, never touch it or look at. it. Do not imagine that you must live on rye bread or.oat meal porridge; a reasonable quantity of nutritious food is essential to the mind as well as the body. Above all. barfish all thoughts upon the subject: If you have any treatises on dyspepsia, domestic medicine. etc., put them directly into the ‘tire. It‘you are constantly talking and ,thinking about dyspepsia, you willsurely ;haveit. Endeavor to forget that you have a stomach. Keep a clear conscience; live temperately, regularly, cleanly; be industrious, too, but be temperate—Ap pletom’ Journal. ONE had a watermelon in n basket and the other ablg piece of corned beef on her arm, as they met at the Central mar ket yesterday, and chatted fur a moment. One had evidently been married but n few days, as the other queried— “ Well. how do you like your second husband?" W110i), he’s fair—very fair, but you see I don't understand him very well yen" was the answer. “No trouble,l hope?“ "oh,lno, though for about a week I feared there might be. He Went around looking and and down-hearted, sighed every five minutes, and wouldn't: answer till I had spoken several times. I really got alarmed." “And what was the mutter—colic, heart disease or nguel" “I couldn‘t make out. as I told you; but he finally explained that he had an other wifo in Cunnde and feared she might comchere. There the poor man wee worrying athout it for days and (lnyn,l and I was thinking he was mad or going: crazy. It wasngrent relief to both of us when he told me the real fuels, and now we shall change our name to Thomas. move into a house facing the alley, and live as happy as bees."—All. Quad) A SIAM. colored boy at Chathnm, Can ada, held one end of a whip-stock in his month while mming, and, falling, the stick was driven through the back of his neck, requiring the strenglh of a power ful man to pull it. out. The spinal cul umn was not hit and the child is again quite well. THEY are going to dramatize the Tweed revelations. An opera Ins already been composed about him.— William Tell. The Dutch l’ahlon {or Washing. Every Saturday morning the Dutch wumcn nah their home. on the outside. scrubbing them {run pavement to «him m-y. Any point tint is toolrigh for broom nr lul-ler may ruch by I {arcing pump. out of ne-rly (-vvry window any be mu I wanna, u'retching hem-If half In, ma. perhn‘ln, lilh a brush Ind clnthu-nch‘ ing u u-r some (untied dirt-rpm! nr duh ing a pail nr wltgr It it. It i!- uuderstnod at this time that thtl {mm is gin-n up tn cleaning. and the lum-n-by ot‘ the pm-o-im-nt brluw lnu'e nu right to enuiplnin it they get 3 Iboict ut' Inter and and‘ over their lit-win. The spiders have been driven uut nt' llullsind, or left in disgust; and I do not think I ever um 8 fly anywhere in the etiuutry. Nu swalluwn nreullnwed tn dirty up their houses nr Mahler. und itrnngo tn my. one‘ see: nu birds about whatever. except the omnipresent stnrku, which are Illuwod,‘ by specinl favor. to build their nests in' the chimney-tops, owing to a particulnrt venerutimn which the Dutch have fur this bird. likely because it is n water-fowl. or rather n Miter and land-fowl; or like the Dutch themselves, an amphibious swamp animal. As you go through a Dutch town the most common sight is the women washing in the canals. ()n tmthpidcmt'rom one end of the street to the other,they nmy be seen at. all times of the duym‘ushing everything from n. bnhy‘s stocking to a tnblccloth; nnd,when they have nothing else to wash. they wash out their brooms and brushes and tubs and themselves. Sometimes the whole canal hes the appearance of flow ing with soup-suds. The Dutch have learned the art of washing and everything connected with it so well that other countries often send their linen there to be washed and bleached, especially the large mnnufnc tories. The meadows outside of :1 Dutch town are fairly white with washed arti cles stretched over them—Ladiu' Re pou'tory. The Canary 11 Very Sensible Bird. As a general rule, you cannot give a bird too much fresh air. Even in the winter time, although it is never safe or expedient to hang the cage in the window, it is advisable to throw open the window once or twice a day and let in the air. Canaries are tender creatures, but they will stand a low temperature—us low as 50 degrees—providing they be out of the reach of draughts. A temperature not lower than 00 degrees is perhaps more desirable, and this should be maintained l day and night it' possible. More birdsl sicken and die t'tfim diseases contracted by exposure to nightchilliness than from any other causes. Again, the air of the romn should not he overheated or suti‘used with gas. If of a morning you should chance to observe the same tinge gather ing on the wings of your‘canary that is constantly noticeable on silver plate in winter, the chances are that coaLgas has much to do with it. On the other hand, the odor of tobacco smoke. instead of in juring, seems to have the tendency to improve the brightness of the plumage, and at the same time to put more vigor into the canary's song. Vere I writing without some experience, I should un hesitatingiy say, never subject your birds at all to' tobacco smoke. But facts ap pear to convert any counsel of the order; for my own birds, whenever tobacco is lighted, will, if the cage doors are open. immediately tiy toward the smoker, and vie with each other in getting Into the densest cloud. Having sniffed .the are rua, they will light upon the shoulder, or the back of the chair, and pour forth the sweetest harmonies of the day. I’er mit me to suggest, then, plenty of fresh air, and even moderate temperature and occasionally tobacco smoke. Be sure, however, that during and after smoklugl a current of fresh air is allowed to pass through and to ventilate the room—Ap pletuns‘ Journal. Thoughts from Emerson. Friends, such as we desire, are dreams and fu'hles. 'l‘he armament ofa home is the friends whu frequent it. Every man passes his life in a search after friendship. Better be a nettle in the side of your friend than his echo. To must of us Society shows not. its face and eye, but its side and back. The t'ountniu of beauty is the heart, and every generous thought illustrates the walls of the chum her. A house should bear witness in all its economy that hunmu culture is the end to which it is built and garnished. I do with my friends as I (in with my books—l would lmve them where I could find them, but I seldom use them. Bushfulncss and apathy are it tough hlh-k, in which a delicate organization is pioleeted I'rmn premature ripening. Love is the (lawn (if civility Mid grace in the course and rustic. It makes the clown gentle and gives the cowunl haunt. We see the heads that turn on the pivot of the spine—no more; and we see heads that seem to turn on a pivot as deep as the axle of the world—so slow and lazi ly. and great they move. The poor are only they who feel poor. and poverty consists in feeling poor. The rich, as we reckon them, and among them the very rich, in a true search would be found very indigent and ragged. Whosn shall teach me how to eat my meat and take my repose, and deal with men, without any shame following, will restore the life of man to splendor, and make his own name dear to history. Tum interments in the cdacombl at Rome are eatimated at 7,000,000. Humorous Waits. How to llml nut ninth in game.— Put it on the buck oi . note. Ir nu van! to keep Inmquitoon out of your Led room. sleep on the roof. Ammonium mine. one of the luxuries of life—rho c-n‘l llugh in her Ilene. . A mum: in 80mm hu mused one of her hens "Mucdutf," to Hunt it may In] on. Tun Ihtchuter Democrat lbinkl Chur ley Rm wu depmiled in I Chicngo 8". mg» Bulk. To muke both ends meet—put your tour in yuur mouth. We Idviw men. 0111].. “toe" (In it. (in mm. llnwmn must want Chief Joseph fur a lecture hurenu. He is cer~ miuly very much afraid of hurting him. Ax nl’lltul' declaring that fortune knocked at every man‘s dmvr once, an old Irishman said: “When she knocked It mine I must have been out." HI‘AUE MANAGER (to cull boy.) “John,. use it the ballet are dressed." John (re. turning.) “Yen, Fir, about ready; they’ve nearly got their clothes off." \ A "our: thrust. Doctor: “Now tell me. Colonel, how do you feel when you've killed a mun ’l“ Colonel: "Uh, very well, thank you. Doctor. How do you!“ Wm lhink Mark Twain must be bored sadly by the manufacturers of new styles of gumls. They all insist, by their print~ ed labels, thut he shall “Trade, Mark l" A LITTLE girl, a day or 3va since, while watching the ruin, turned tuber mother and said. “Ma,l guess the weath er's so warm it's melting the clouds." Tums don‘t grr‘w much better, and families which .uve long ago stolli‘ped talking a paper are nowseriously thin ing of selling one of the dogm—Worcaltr Prraa. A 0001) m'any country teams are bur glarizing iu country towns. They are good cruckamcn and generally make an inner and then an (mum—Nata York Harald. “MADAME," suid un impertinent board er lo his landlady, “your butter is too aris tocratic fur my democratic taste. It is we of the cases in which sweetness is preferable to rank." A rum”. CARD was lately received at. the Fitchhuru, Must. posboiice, ud dressed to “Mr. K—, the mun lhut works in the factory and got the cur-load of po tatoes at Whitefield, N. 11., lust yeah”, \VIIEN you kiss a San Francisco girl, she holds her breath until you get thrnugh, and then limes up, goes into the next. room, and smacks her lips for u. whole hour. A noon little boy who was kicked by a! mule did not my naughty Words or go home crying to his mother. He just tied. the mule within five feet of a beehive backed him round to it and let him kick. “I an, Paddy, that is the woretlook iug hurse ynu drive I ever saw. Why don’t you fatten him up?" “Fat him up, is it? Fuix! the your haste can hardly carry the little mute that’s on him now," replied Paddy. THE best. way to cure a boil is to get a fine ripe peach—e cling stone in better— peel it carefully, eat n—then take the skin, pche it on tho asphaltum aide-walk in front of Baldwin‘s—mud when the boil isn‘t looking slip up on the peel. AT an Eastern uregon wedding. the bride in a playful mood kicked the groom’s but off without. touching his head. All well enough if ul'tcratime herduxtcrity don't take a turn and kick his head oll‘ without touching his hut. AN Irishman frerh from the “old country" saw a turtle for the first time, and nt once made up his mind to capture it. The turtle caught him by the finger, and he, holding it out at arms'-length, said, “Faith, and ye had better let loose the howlt ye have. or I’ll kick ye out 06 the very hox ye sit in, be jabbers." A LITTLE Athol boy, guilty of some misconduct, Upon being asked why he could he so naughty, replied tlmt he thought he was not doing anything wrong. “That's no excuse," said his mother, “thinking doesn‘t. hel the mat ter." “Wt-11, munmm," amid lie, “what’s the use of having a thinker, if you can't think?" OLD Dr. Hunter used to say, when he could not discover the cauae'oi' a man‘s~ sickness. “We'll try this and We‘ll try that. We'llrllout into the tree, and if anything falls, well and good.” “Aye," replied a wug, “I fear this is too com monly the ease, and in your shooting nto the tree, the first thing that gener ally falls is the patient." “Smoxmo in Holland," said atruvel ler,"'is so Common that it is impossible to tell one person from another in a room full of smokers.” “How is anyone who happens to he wanted picked out, then?" askcdalietener. , “Oh, in that case, a waiter goes round with a pair of bellows and blows the smoke from before each face till he recognizes the person called for. Fact,gcntlemen." To REMOVE FLY Tuacxs.-.—-The fly sea son, an exchange cheerfully remarks, is near at hand, and it will cost only three onions to try the experiment of keeping your picture frames, looking-glass framw, ‘etc-o Imm being over by ‘flies. Paint your frames over with the liquid, and the originator says the file! will never them. Whether the size of-the onion must. be determined by the size of the frames or fly the I author of the receipt has not yet divulged.