Newspaper Page Text
TAMES CHAMBERS, Editor. PVBLISHED EVKBV 8ATDAV AT PAIXESVILLK, LAKE COUNTY, OHIO. TIE FlinnU OT41I ADVERTISING RATES. PMMESVILLE JOUEWA space. 1 1 w. 8 w. 6 w. 8 m. 6 m. 18 m 1 inch. $1.00 2.00 $3.60 $5.25 $8.00 j $12.00 8 " 1.75 8.00 1 65 1 7.00 1 12.03 1 17.00 3 " 2.50 1 4.00 1 6.00 8.50 1 15.00 1 22.00 4 " 3.25 1 6.00 1 7.00 1 10.00 1 17.00 1 88.00 5 " I 3.75 5.00 8.75 1 11.00 18J0 1 82.00 ij col. 4.50 7.00 10.00 14.00 I 82.00 37 JO X " 5.25 aOO 12.00 16.50 25J0 1 45.00 H I 8.00 I 12.50 16.50 21.00 1 85.00 66.00 10.50 16.00 23.00 85.00 55.00 95.00 1 " 12.00 20.00 80.00 47.50 I 75.00 180.00 tW"Counting Boom and Publication Office ... rr I) I I. "r 114 CT Yearly, by ni"ai oTcIlTtk r. ... 4100 Six Months, by mail or Carrier...... 1,25 Three Months, by mail or Carrier . 5 Jfejjf-AtrfW. in all cmm Adrarux I'aywKnt JOB DEPARTMEXT. Book and Blank Work, Circulars, Letter Heads, Bill Heads, Cards anl every des-T-iption of Job Work, executed with dispatch aad in the neatest style of the art. Having an entire new outfit of Types, Presses, and Machinery, together with a force or compe tent and skilfull workmen, we feel that our fa cilities are second to those of no other establish ment in the place. A FAMILY PAPER, DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AGRICULTURE, AND GENERAL NEWS. ed for at the rate of 15 cents per line for first insertion and eight cents per line for each sub sequent insertion Business cards $1.25 per line per annnm. Yearly advertisers discontinuing their adver tisements before the expiration ot their contract will be charged according to the above rates. Transient advertisements must invariably be paid for in advance. Re&rular advertisement VOLUME I. PAIKESVlXIiE, LAKE COUNTY, OHIO, SATURDAY, AUGUST 19, 1871. NUMBER 6. to be paid at the expiration of each quarter. THE DAFFODILS. Down by the woodside, warm and low, Their happv lives they spend; Beside them the watem leap and Bow, Above them the tall trees bend. Around them the minstrel blackbird sings, The thrush calls loudly near, And they wear their golden crowns like kings, The fairest and first or the year. The waves run bright with a sunny flow, All down through the hazel bowers; Sweetly and softly they sing as they flow, A song they have learnt from the flowers. Summer comes on with her plenteous gifts White roses, and hareliells hlue And the stately crimson foxglove lifts Its head where the daffodils grew. The earth is a fair and fairy realm. And the west wind whispers low . Through the heavy boughs of the thick-leaved elm, . And down by the water's flow. Down by the brook that all day long Glimmers under the alder bowers; But itsingetb not the old sweet song That it learnt from the golden flowers. The davs of Summer run swiftly by, But the waves have a sad refrain. Which cannot be stilled, nor its place be filled, Till the daffodil blossom again. A. RETROSPECT. I see it now an orchard set Deep in a garden, rank and green It scarce were older now than then For all the seasons gone between. So every hour the branches spread. Bowed lowly to the dappled bed, Caught by the ivy, nothing loath. Tall purple orchis here and there Shot up its Bpirals to the space, W here white upon the blue expanse. Pale apple-blossdms leaned their face, Or fluttered softly to their rest, Scarce choosing which should lie the best, And pausing midway, fain for both. All interlaced that orchard lay. All rife with greenest things that grow, Tall ferns and matted underground, Where friendly mice would come Here peep up curious from a tent Of burdock leaves all dew-bespent, Or from a primrose-alley show. A pathway ran I tee it now Around the orchard east and west, That for companions of its way .... Would choose the flowers it loved the best So soft, a footpath well might come With less ado than wild-bees hum. And pass beneath the branches low. And so it fell I see her now, , ; A lithesome figure in the way. Just where the grandest meeting boughs Had most essayed to hide the day ; The meek head bent upon the bonk, She peaceful conned with-holy look. As Gabriel some scroll of God, Bidding him hasten on his road. She, too, has such a tiding soon, I think she read it first that hour; Before had waned ajiewer moon, No lithesome figure ill between Stood wrapiied about with comely green She, too, was bidden of the Lord. Some thinker that has thought aloud, (I thank him, for the thought is kind,) Has reasoned that we hold our bliss. That heaven itself is in the mind. I sometimes think my heaven may be A green place, with its orchard tree, And one sweet angel known to me. MARIAM. THE STRANGER'S VISIT "Mama the lady the lady," shouted little Marlam bounding into the room from Sally's domicll, where she had been enjoying a front view of the street and she had hardly said it when a sweet voice spoke outside the door, and the stranger entered. "You will excuse me, dear madam, for taking this liberty," she gently mur mured, after the servant had placed two small baskets on the table "but I thought perhaps some, little delicacy might tempt your appetite, as you are au invalid I hope I have not Intruded." Mrs. Trevor had risen from the chair where she had been sewing propped up by pillows but the lady motioned her to sit down again, and drawing her chair to her sHe, began talking in a low voice and with tender and familiar manner about little Mariam. With what com passion she gazed upon the feeling.fragile creature watched the tremulous glow upon the hollow cheek the fitful lire of her eye the skinny fingers the attenu ated frame, and that ghastly feint of strength, which makes the doomed in valid as much an object of wonder as compassion. And how like a fresh beam of sunlight from 'the open heavens steal ing over purple hills and green sloping meadow-fields, was that visit to the poor widow. ' Oh! we should visit the sick. We should go to them in their darkened chambers with smiles and words of love and consolation. We should carry the beauty and fragrance of sweet flowers, and if possible some seasonable fruit, to let them know that we forget not the poor invalid. And not only ourselves it is well if the bright, innocent faces of childhood are sometimes allowed to cheer the darkened chamber. "It is better than medicine," said a poor, wasted creature, "to see your lit tle boy; what laughing eyes he has, and what a musical laugh ;" and she called Vi I. ..i ..-.. 1 1 I n hn, rill 1 -l 1 11 41 r. 1 t V... I the merry child to her bedside and for got her pain for the moment, as she pulled at his glossy curls and stroked them back from his forehead. It was a slight pleasure that could thus rob her of pahi. Who would not let sunny-hearted child hood thus minister to the sorely strick en? Forget not the sick and helpless; they are dependant very mucn upon sympa thy, and wishing them well, or pitying them is but doing a very little toward their comfort. Visit them often; it is far better than to dance In the halls of pleasure or minister to your own vani ties and selfishness. A day is coming when a soft voice shall say, "Inasmuch as ye did it unto these the least of my little ones, ye did it unto me." . An hour passed so quietly, so pleasant ly, that the poor consumptive hardly thought of her work, and when the pale. but extremely beautiful woman angel she thought her, prepared to go she gently took the coarse flannel from her hand, saving, "If you mill labor, let me send you something to do. I have com mon sewing, for which I will give you at least a fair price, and I question very much whether you get It tor what you door this kind ot work." A flush- of pleasure deepened the hectic as the widow looked her grateful thanks to tne kind stranger. "And may I ask the favor of a visit daily from this dear child?" she in quired, "itwill so lighten my solitary hours, and take my mind sometimes from the laborious occupation I pursue. She will furnish me a delightful theme too and I promise you you shall see her por trait in some fine journal or gilded an nual." The widow gave her willing consent, and they parted. No longer after this visit did Mrs, Trevor feel the slightest anxiety about her charge. "Shall I tell her?" she would often ask herself "but oh, it will be so hard to undeceive the child so sweet that she should fancy me even in death to be her mother ; and if I must, let it be in the lust hour I cannot bear to think of it yet let me have time. Who were her parents, who were her re latives she can hardly dream ever to learn why make her sunny heart un quiet with the vague hone of so doing? Well, I will wait God's time and Provi dence I cannot do it yet. Autumn came and with it that familiar friend, death! "the liberator of him whom freedom cannot release--the phy sician of him ;whom medicine cannot cure, and the comforter of him whom time cannot console." He caine, sum moning the spirit with gentleness but it was all prepared. J lttle Mariam sat in the arms of her new friend, fast asleep, She had wept and sobbed till nature put Imr flotnn liiar Cldpf mill ninatul tho flnvp- like eyes, leaving the tears glittering on and under the long, thick lashes. The-widow had tor hours lain msensi We her fair features chiseled to the clear, strong outline of death. Yet there was nothing repulsive in that dying scene no distortion or nmo or feature no convulsive rattling of the breath no groans she lay like a slumbering infant her eyes nearly closed and dim, but not stony In .their unwitting, steady look. She had no fears to dread, for her life had been as sinless as an erring mor tal s may be she bad no douDt to solve for she knew with a simple, earnest, loving knowledge, "He who is the way, tlie truth and the life." It was growing dark. Sally came in with a candle, and setting it on the table away in the further corner, softly neared the bed of the dying. She no sooner saw the upturned face of the Innocent child, so heavenly in its expression, then she fell to weeping very softly, murmuring in a voice scarcely audi Die, "dear utile darling!" "What of her what of Mariam?" whispered the dying one, feeling about as if for the grasp of some other hand. n soon clasped mat or tne stranger and smiling she turned her head and almost sightless eyes toward that side where she sat, still whispering, "what of Mariam where is she?" "Here," answered a gentle voice, "she has wept herself to sleep In my arms shall I wake her?" A slight pause, and the lips gathering a smile, parted again and whispered, "no no let her sleep." Have you anything to say with re gard to your child?" asked the watcher, anxiously regarding the features of the ay.,ng- My child mine is it miner" asKea the other, laying great emphasis on the word "mine" ''they Drought ner to me she was very beautiful, you can't think how beautiful!" and the smile broke all over her face "but, I had bur ied seven and surely God sent her yes what Is it I would say ? something; oh! I have forgotten forgotten," she feebly repeated. "About Mariam," suggested ner friend, pressing her hand tenderly. Yes yes there is nothing Dut a dox the one under the table you'll keep it keep it for my sake, it is'nt much his log is in it," she continued, rapidly, as if with an enort or the memory, "his log, a few papers, old papers and and I can't remember I " her voice failed her only once more she spoke before she died, and then her thought busied it self with the box, "his log is there and " There came a final hush. The white brow, that gentle heart would never throb with pain again. Watchers were procured the lady tnrew a snawi over the slumbering child, and she was carried forever from her humble home, once more to sleep in the dainty lap of luxury but never, never to forget the being who had proved how sweet, how undy ing the love or a motner can De. , XI. nobody's child. The light plays in the sombre old al ley as well as it can for the dust heaps, and tall, dark houses. Here and there, through the tan of wind and sun, and layers 01 dirt, a spot or wnite, nxe tne leaf of a lily, tells that beauty may dwell even here, sweet beauty of infancy. A child has fallen over yon broken door step it dreams, but not un watched for the homely mother leaves ner suus to steal a quiet look and wish that he may sleep till her toil is over. From little tongues the roll of the blasphemer sum mons spirits of evil to the wretched hov el, and begrimmed imps play tosspenny and rub the dirt deeper in their sallow cheeks. Nought disturbs the old alley, save penury and crime the lormer lodges high among the coDweDs, where it can see the stars at night, the latter brawls and fights in foul cellars,' and throws empty bottles at still emptier heads. Im pudence swaggers and drunkenness stag gers, swinging its lean hands against the rattling window-panes, and crush ing in the old hat crowns that line the brokenjipertures. Here comes a group wortn siuaying. A boy with bright and sunny locks lead ing his little checked-frock sister from the parisli school. Poverty may be his heir-loom, but . virtue locks hands with its meagre mate, and both may carry him safely through life. Well, my boy, and whose child are you?" ""iease I'm jfeggy s iitue ooy wnat takes in ironing and washes. I and sis ter goes to school." Just behind them, with a slower step, but an eve like a hawk, his short, crisp curls clinging close to nis Drown rore head, comes another little fellow. His eye has brightened perhaps at the sound of a pleasing tone and he fingers his rags nervously. "And whose child are you, my little fellow?" Methinks somebody's who needs things and care, or perchance she may be wasting on a sick bed inpoverty or crime. See his head droops his eye fades the curve of his lip changes to griet. He half looks up again, dashing the trem- bUng tear from his dark lashes, . . ... "Please I ain't nobody's child." Nobody's child that plaintive voice that stifled sob visions of neglected graves in the poor's corner, they bring of children clinging to the skirts of strange garments weeping at the harsh voice ot rorced cnarity shrinking irom the uplitted hand or cruel avarice. A obody 's child ! what it his shrinking limbs stiffen with the cold? Who will tear the tattered garment from her own perishing body to gather about her child? Nobody. Who, when the sneer and taunt strike colder than death on the grieving heart. pours the balm of a love almost divine on the cruel wound.' Nobodv. Who, when the vile lay unholy hands upon him and drag him to the dark haunts of sin, snatches him from the breakers at theperil of her life? JN obody. "Nobody, nobody to own me," bitterly murmured a beautiful girl slowly lifting ner lace trom her hands, and dashing away the terrs that the first sudden revel ation ot sorrow hod brought to her eves "oh! I wish I had never known this." it was a strange place lor one so love ly, attired as she was in garments befit ting a station ot opulence, the silken robe fallen ungathered on the dusky floor, from whiclrshe.had once carefully lifted it the thick, glossy braids and curls canopied by festoons of spider webs hanging from grim rafters her seat a rougn deal dox, old anu Drokeniurmture strewed about ghastly window-frames leaning against the wall, through which tne day broke green and gnostiy. exceedingly Deautirui was tne youn girl, with brow so fair and pure, an eyes so deep and gentle, but now the i aint rose that marked ner cheek with health had faded: and still the tears woidd come and hang glittering on the silken lashes. Before her stood a iapanlbox. origi nally of a lively brown color, ornamented with gilt roses and green leaves. But the gilding and the tinting and the bur nishing had all given place to sober rust. There seemed to be nothing but papers in the box, all carefully folded, but tiirown In confusion by the nimble fin gers of the maiden. In her hand she held a stained and yellow manuscript, book it appeared to be, marked in a large, steady hand on me top margin, "Log." But a few moments before she had opened it at random, and was it chance that caused her eye to light upon the fol lowing? "June 10th. Hove in sight of a Bos ton bark going to Mattanzers. Weather little squally excharged words and went on. Toward arternoon the first mate saw something to lee'ard. Proved to be a small sailing craft, a baby aboard I Cap'n had it hauled alongside ; gave it to I me. .mess the IjOnl, oh I my soul, and - 1 rememDer all ills benefits, lor He took seven away from me. and II give me tills, so as I shouldn't be childless in my old age." Much more had the honest sailor re corded, but it was not that that claimed the young girl's attention as much as a small packet that had been pressed in between the leaves, and opening which she found to contain two very beautiful clasps of chased gold, attached to faded ribbons that had once been blue, a scrap of rich lace, being a piece of andnfant's rrock, and a paper on which a lew unes had tieen traced with a tremulous hand, thus: - My" darling little Mariam, I could not bring myself to tell you that you were not my own sweet cWld. But I cannot die in peace without informing you that you were, as my poor husband says In His log, 'June 10th,T a little ocean iounu- ling. My strength will not allow me to pen down my conjectures, further than to say, I think your parents were ship wrecked, though how that could be, when there had been no violent storm, it Is hard to imagine. Sweet child, I can not write any more. May the God of the orphan protect you; He will, my soul says He will. Farewell. When you read these lines I ehall be in my grave." "lust and ashes, long, long neiore this," murmured Mariam, who, it need scarcely be told, had grown into lovely womanhood, and rising, she refolded the paper, hastily closed the box, and taking the log-book in her hand hurried out of the dusky garret to her own chamber. Here the early morning threw in long, wavy plumes of light, and laid his bright beams all robed in gold In among the folds of the crimson hangings, and blazed In the rich casing of the mirrors that lined the walls. It was the cham ber of lovely maidenhood, of luxury, of every ingenious device .almost that taste could fashion. On the marble dressing-table were various beautiful ornaments, and written or marked, or cunningly worked there on, were the words, "to Mariam," "to my sweet foster child," "to the light of the household," etc. In a small grate overtopped by an ex quisite mantel frame In porcelain a fire was brightly burning, for the season was the stormy month of March. In a little recess stood a bed, draped with great ele gance; a series of rosewood shelves held many of the standard authors, and two immense easy chairs of red velvet com fortably lounged on each side of the Berlin rug. Into one or these Mariam tnrew ner- self and held the yellow parchment again before her vision. Then she toyed with the golden clasps, and anon sat lost In thought, a bewitching sadness playing over her pensive features, a look of per plexity making her even more cnanning than the radiant expression of happiness which oftenest challenged admiration. "Who could they be, and who am I?" she kept asking, turning the baubles over and over and scanning them In every light. "Poor and humble they could hardly have been, and they per ished; the great ocean rolls above them. Who, then, are my kindred ? Oh! shall lever meet them? Will they know these? Will nature tell them my origin? No, scarcely. And, dear mother for I must call her by the name I have since infancy how will this knowledge affect her? What when she knows I am no longer the child of the poor sailor's widow ? Will not apprehension rob her of that parental tenderness with which she has forever guarded me? Oh! no, she never can feel less than a mother's love. I know I am very dear to her; and in the hours when pain racks her frame, and some silent, mental sorrow, fills her soul with anguish, how often has she told me I was her only solace ? And now I dread to tell her this new found secret; why I hardly know. I should dread also to have my friends, or my more noble, better-loved Frederic learn it." - - ' -"' ' '- Thus musing and talking by turns, the fair girl laid her acquisition in an escre- toire and placed the ornaments m a nttie box of ebony. Scarcely had she done so when a cheer ful voice, accompanied by a rap, said, May I come in, love ?" and a handsome face, though marked with care and sor row, appeared at the opened door. Manama contusion was extreme; the blood rushed over cheek and brow, the sweet voice trembled, and even the motion of her step was unsteady as she hurried forward, murmuring, "Good morning, dear mother." l grew nervous and lonesome in my room, Mariam, " said the new comer, neither my easel nor my pen attorded me pleasure ; the more I do to your por trait the more childish it seems ; it will resemble her spite of all I can do," she added, musingly. ' . , Who, mother (" asked Mariam, re gaining her self-possesion ; "did you ever have any children?" she added, with forced carelessness, "you frequent ly speak or a little child." r "Mariam," exclaimed tne woman with such vehemence that .the young girl absolutely started trom her seat, "you awakened thoughts, emotions that hoped slumbered lorever," she said. after a pause, "no, I never was blessed with a child; liocl was .good in giving you to me. - No, I. was a poor, ; lonely, uncared-for being, wasting my genius in bitter self-communion, till I saw Le Dunlap, my husband. He was rich I a poor housekeeper you are surprised. Mariam a writer of lines ' breathing passion, utter indifference to life, melan choly ot the most isolated and soui-con- sumlng character. He saw and called me beautiful. He praised my genius: in fine, he loved me devotedly, and I be came, his wife. : Mine, then, were all the treasures I had longed for; mine the plendor of fashion ; mine the wealth of fame ; lor when I became sick there were not wanting those parasites who fawn and flutter before the idol of the hour to do me homage, and sound to the world what capacities, what wonders of talent were mine. My husband provided me tutors, and soon there was scarcely a lan guage spoken under heaven but I could understand. Music was my passion painting my favorite art. Books were sweet and tender friends ; lofty teachers stern rebukers, silent and ever devoted companions. My husband filled his house with amateurs; sculptors and poets gathered at our reunions; and when I looked around on the noble array of the world's great, my heart beat ex- ultingly that I .1, the poor peasant " her voice faltered, "the daughter of humble and almost unknown people, had called thus to do homage to her intellect those for whose fragments of time many a titled aristocrat would part with half his rortune." "And you must have been so happy," murmured Mariam, gazing in wonder anu aamiratton on tne now glowing lace beside her; "nay, you must be so happy now. Everybody who knows you feels nonorea Dy one word, one look. "Poor child," exclaimed the other, in thrilling tones, her face relapsing into sternness, "and do you think all these bring happiness? ao! nor mountain heaps of solid gold, nor thousand fields covered witli glittering diamonds, nor Gabriel's knowledge, nor an angel's capacity for enjoyment, if one thing be wanting that without which heaveu would be as hell innocence, the con science at rest." She had said tills rapidly, without, as it were, taking ttiougnt or breath. Now she cowered under Mariam's mournful asking look, and hid her face in her hands. When she raised it there was no trace of color, all an ashy whiteness "I see," she said, steadying her trem bling voice, "I see tiiat I shall yet have to unbosom myself even to you, Mariam but, believe me, whatever I have done was not from the necessity of a depraved nature. I had been iniured, cruelly in- jured, Mariam cruelly, most bitterly cruelly wronged. You believe me?' and she lafQ one fair, white hand on Mariain's lap. ' "Believe you! Indeed I do. Why should I doubt one whose kindness has showered blessings on me almost ever since I I can remember ? What had been but for you ? A pnor little outcast orphan, dependent on charity, on the cruel kindness of a selfish world. But, Instead, look at the home you have given me: behold how you have surrounded me with choice gifts, the choicest of which are the refinements of a generous and complete education. Oh ! my more than mother, I weep sometimes with very joy when I think of all this. Be lieve you ! I'll believe naught against you. But tell me more ot your wonder ful life." "I have not lived since he died," mur mured the other, wiping away the tears caused by Mariam's tender speech, "save In your love. It was only a year before I met you that he was taken trom me. Just as I began to see new beauties in his noble character to feel new delight in his society to look upon him as the light and life of my life. He was taken in the full vigor of manhood ; well at morning at night a corpse. How I bore the stunning stroke I cannot tell, except to say that 1 survived. Plenty ot wealth a life of ease) all the resources of the rich and talented were left me still I was the theme of all tongues, the wonder, of many eyes. But, oh! the the lack ot real comfort. IK you know," she suddenly exclaimed, with startling emphasis, "that in Malacbi there is this awful denunciation, 'I will curse your blessings i' Think think ot our very blessings being turned to curses; our very wealth our very health our very knowledge all all curses to rot the very marrow of existence." I cannot bear to see you in this mood," said Mariam, tearfully. w eu, it is wrong, I allow, to inflict upon youth such baneful thoughts. Come, forget them. What shall we do? Select the most becoming dress in your wardrobe for your conquest of this young Lord Henry. Come, now, ac tually you are weeping. Don't you see how I have changed? that lam grown merry as a lark? Wake up, my Wrd, and sing to me. See what I have brought you for a birthday present," and she dis played a rare set of costly jewels ; "by the way, we have no exact date of your birth , have we ? I was looking over that old Bible of your mother's not long ago and I do not see your name; that is strange, is it not? I recollect, though, on the wild March morning on which your mother died, she said and it was tne fifteenth, you remember 'poor little Mariam; poor orphan; to-day she must be six ;' but even then I think she was wandering, for she talked so oddly about you that in heaven it would be hard not to call you her own. x es, she must have wandered. However, I shall always celebrate the fifteenth." :During this recital of old reminiscences Mariam had been unwontedly agitated, the color now coming, now disappear ing. "I, too, have something to tell," she would have said, but a secret mis giving prevented her. "Not this morn ing," she thought, "she has been her self too violently agitated ; I will yet wait a little." She could not help the sparkle in her eye, spite of the tears, at sight ot the beautiful brilliants. She held them over her hand, and rising, threw an arm about the neck of her foster mother and grate fully kissed her, thanking her again and again. l only ask you to look your best to night." repeated the latter: "wear these jewels, and let your beauty shame their lustre. We are to have this noble lord, you know," she added, with a strangely peculiar expression, something that sounded like a sneer, "and he has not the vices attendant too often on nobility: Wherever I hear ot turn he is spoken ot as a pattern of manly virtue : indeed, if he were not innately great he should never be introduced to my Mariam. Good morning, love; be happy," and kissing .her once more she moved hastily out and into her own room. . It was larger and more sombrely fur nished, and yet with a greater degree of splendor. Kare paintings enclosed In massive frames, hung against the walls, and the drapery, though subdued, in gleaming tints caught the full light of tne capricious sun, or lay in deep, rich shadow till some light touch made it glow again. Here Mrs. ie uuniap sat down before a desk of beautiful workmanship, and began assorting the papers before her. But often would she stop and gaze on vacancy, her attitude so motionless that it was statue-like, and sometimes ner nps moved. At length she broke out into audible speech. "It will be a double triumph," she exclaimed, with energy; they will not know It, but I shall, and, knowing, hug the knowledge to my heart. Perhaps some day after I am gonu a letter will inform them and gall their proud spirits. As the daughter ot one who stood first in the esteem of his country who himself descended from nobilty they will not wince when her birth is called in question; but as the child of a common sailor ah! that will bring them down, nor Injure Mariam, se cure as sne win be in tne love ot a ronu heart. As to Frederic, consulting my heart's best inclinations, I had rather she would be his wife; but 1 know not If he loves her, and Lord Henry Walden how the name thrills me I am certain he adores her, and even did before he saw her. Triumph triumph ! She shall cer tainly marry Lord Henry ; she shall be exalted I always knew always felt It. There Is something in Mariam worthy a throne. . When she is married, then, even then I shall not dare to say, 'Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace,' for never, never will peace be a tenant of this bosom." And still Mariam sat in her room often repeating, "alas! I am in reality 'no body's child.' " TO BE COKTINUED. J ' WO TIE IN MEN'S COLLEGES. BY CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER. We are still in search of the question that has but one side. Perhaps that for the higher education of women comes as near to it as any. Everybody agrees (that is, everybody, unless we have to except the majority of the women them selves !) that women ought to have a bet ter education than they now have ; at least, mat tney snouid nave .equal advan tages with men In obtaining it. It is true that young ladies in good position, and with sufficient fortune, and access to books, libraries and educating influences about them, do not as a rule show that eager desire for- knowledge that we could wish ; nor are those less fortunate universally seen struggling against ad verse circumstances to make their own the stores of ancient and modern learn ing. They do not always exhaust the ad vantages of the boarding and day sohools that are open to them. Jferhaps the same can be said of boys under twenty; tnougu tne am union or learning is no doubt greater among men than it is among women. Still, boys' rights and girls' rights, in this respect are exactly alike, and the only real question Is, Shall the higher education for both sexes be given in the same or in separate colleges ? I confess that the arguments for ad mitting women to men's colleges are pretty nearly conclusive; but 1 cannot resist the temptation of standing oft' and looking at the subject in various aspects, before settling down upon the steres- copic view. I lie men's colleges are es tablished, endowed, enriched by antiqui ty and charity; they have libraries, museums, hibratories, all ttie facilities of a varied training; and to their estab lishment women have contributed quite as much as men. The mother's prayer counts lor something, and everybody knows that the gifts and legacies, though in tne man s name, are usually tne re sult of the joint earning and economy of the man and ins wile. The colleges are in full tide of usefulness and opportunity. and. It would be the work of many years to create their equals for women, eyen If it were possible in this new country to duplicate the teachers of learning and experience. The present colleges must long remain the best, and i women are to have the best advantages, they must go to them. This being so, and the right being conceded, there is nothing to do Dut to vote that woman is a man and brother, and open the college gates ; and not only the gates, admitting to the purlieus, the lecture-rooms, and the li braries, but the inner doors where the honey of Hymettus is stored, andthe classic bees are hiving it. Yet, it remains to be said, that when this is done, they cease to be mens col leges, and radically change their charac ter ; that is, the introduction of women would work a more thorough change in colleges and universities than they have undergone in two hundred years and more. Perhaps tins change would be advantageous ; perhaps we have reached a period in the progress of society when such a middle-age, institution as a male college ought to be destroyed. For a good many generations it has been thought neeessary to seclude our young men from general society during their period of mental training for profes sional life. Perhaps they would do bet ter if they were inured to this discipline amid the sweet influence of female so ciety. Perhaps young women would be stimulated to new ambitions In learning, and the drill of the intellectual faculties, with direct male competition ; and It may be that, for both, a united moral and men tal growth would be attained of which we have hitherto had no experience. Without attempting to decide such questions, I only wish to call attention to the fact that the admission of women to men's colleges In any considerable numbers would radically change them. A great part of the peculiar, but perhaps unnecessary experience and education of our colleges, is not in the recitation and lecture-rooms, nor In the official curriculum ; It is in the multifarious col lege life, with its secret and literary soci eties its sports with the club and the oar, and that unreserved intercourse which young men hold with young men, but which is neither possible nor proper be tween the sexes on the verge of manhood and womanhood. Young men have no business to be off in those horrid secret societies, up till dawn, to be sure, and indulging in larks which no well-bred young woman would tolerate. Let us make the world over anew, therefore, immediately. Perhaps the introduction of women into colleges would hasten the downfall of a good many college abuses, and re move a good many of the barnacles in the way of their healthy growth. . Dor mitories for the sexes would be pretty ! sure to be found inconvenient, and pro ductive of greater breaches of discipline than they are now. The college would lose many of its peculiarities, sanctioned by tradition, which now makes it so at tractive, but it might become an opener and more wholesome arena for pure study If we can suppose that the college would be sought only by those eager to learn, and that the students would live in town and be treated exactly like other citizens, being under college espoinage only in college hours, we might have a college where all the best qualities of men and women would be developed In a natural way. But up to this writing, and not withstanding the strongest resolutions, the two sexes remain two; and their coming together in the familiar inter course of college life would be likely to render necessary the same sharp over sight that is now experienced in all mix ed schools of a high grade. For it must be remembered that the college is open to all the world, and where you get to gether seven or eight hundred students, you have some who are neither saints in petticoats nor pantaloons. I know it is said that the moral tone of both the col lege and the ladles' seminary would be elevated were they united iu one; and it is just to keep this in view as we are discussing the probabilities. Physiologists tell us that women in America ought not to marry till they are twenty-one, nor even till they are twenty-five, as a general rule. And it would be a blessed thing If we could keep all notions of marriage out of the heads of girls until they are of age, I suppose. At least it is the entering society with the view to matrimony, at an early age, which interferes with the higher educa tion of women so seriously. The truth is that a3 society is now constituted but few women are willing to give up the al lurements, and pleasures, and opportu nities of society from the ages of seven teen to twenty-one, and devote those years to' the serious mental discipline which the college is supposed to require, or to give so much of the golden period of life to the sweet hardship of learning. The girl matures sooner than the boy, and at eighteen and twenty while he is still dreamily looking at life through the eyes of the poets he reads, she has fully entered into her kingdom. And this ad mitted fact suggests this doubt in regard to the proposed college union : w ould a very considerable proportion of girls in college pursue the course of study with the necessary singleness of purpose, and would there be any lowering of vigor in intellectual pursuits? it only those would go to college who have a thirst to learn, and are willing to do as most boys expect to do, postpone society to learning and training, their presence would be a stimulus. But, notoriously a great many boys go to college because it is 'the thing to do,' and if an equal number of girls go from no higher motive, we shall have a union of elements not very helpful to intellectual culture and discipline. Having hastily touched these points, 1 want to add that it seems to be just and wise to try the experiment; but it ap pears to me that no very striking results are to be expected trom it so long as the requirements of society remain as at present. If we expect women to dress elegantly, be arbiters ot society, make bread, and know Greek at the same time, marriages and thoughts of them will have to be postponed some years. CHRISTIAN commuNioiv. BY WILLIAM S. BALCH. There Is great power In Christian com munion. I do not mean in the outward semblance of eating bread and tasting wine; but in the real, earnest, hearty sympathy and love which are drawn from the lount ot Christianity. There is no friendship so genuine ; no confidence so complete and enduring ; no touch so electric; no joy so pure and perfect; no fol 1 rwnrcl 1 r ark Bwoof anil 1, a 1 su'l n a a that produced by the attaching band of Christian love. That is the spirit of truth; 'the seal of the covenant,' the in dwelling Christ ; 'the fulness of God, God la love, and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth In God and God In him. The pure lu heart see God. Therejis no real communion where there is not love. There can be none, The heart is blighted, withered, relig iously dead, that is not filled witli love The forms of religion may be accepted ; the behests of the church may be obeyed ; every outward observance may be re garded punctiliously, and many and loud words be uttered in praise of the denomination; it all avails nothing, if love to uod and man Is wanting. The forced demands of the church pre vent religion in the soul, and the terms prescribed as conditions ot fellowship beyond the testimony of a loving heart are unchristian and pernicious. The soul must lie free. It is made so in Christ, God In the conscience is the only judge and rather 01 the t iirlstian. lie Is the judge of all. To Him appeal may always ue mane and a true vcriiict be obtained, Nothing has so militated against jiristiamty as assumptions of authority and the opinions of others in the estab lishment of creeds as testn of religious character. There is no authority for such procedure in the New Testament. The rule of Jesus is, 'By their fruits ye shall know mem.' He wrote no creed. established no tests, but in moral conduct and gave no authority for his disciples to Judge one another. The whole ot his religion is condensed into the new com mandment, "That ye should love one another as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men k now that ye are my disciples; if ye have love one to another.' What denomination has accepted this standard and acted upon It? It may be tacitly admitted in all; but by whom has it been given the importance that the Saviour attached to it? By whom is it made the test of fellowship and com munion? Christianity has suffered more from the lack of the Christ-spirit in its professing leaders, than from all other causes put to gether. Vain is it to murmer, and repine, and complain, at the wickedness of the world, the opposition of unbelievers, the hostility of unbelievers, the hostility of inndels, the claims or science, so long as church-members 'bite and devour one Another, and are full of wrath, clamor, and evil-speaking.' No wonder they are consumed one of another ; while sin and shame are rampant the wide world over. Ask thinking, serious, good men why they do not come into the outward com munion of the church. What is their an swer? 'The church is divided, conten tious, wrangling its members are no better really than the world's people ; but are more dangerous, because they pre tend to be so much better. They deceive themselves and others.' . As honest and conscientious men, how can they con sent to put on the cloak cut after the fash ion of a sect to gain admission among religious hypocrites? Broad-brimmed hats and drab coats ;" deep water baptism, and sectarian Shibboleths; ritualistic bowings and priestly orders, do not pro duce nor testify to purity of heart nor ex cellence of life. They possess not the power to produce genuine communion. Christian communion goes deeper and higher. It permeates the whole soul, the heart and thought and purpose and ac tion. It attracts and is attracted. It is a spirtof power. It Is God's work, perfect in His Son, who was drawn to humanity that humanity might be drawn to the Father be reconciled to Him, and live in love one with another, and therefore live in God. The heart that has never felt tWs com munion is yet a stranger to the highest joys of which he is capable, to the bles sings God has prepared ror tnem that love Him. If one has felt the thrill of delight : and. sorrow which rushes through his whole being when brought into full sympathy with another, into whose condition of pleasure and suffer ing he fully enters, as really as if it were his own ; he may have an idea, ap proaching, intellectually, to what Chris tian communion is. But he can never know it, till he feels it; and then he will not be able to find language to describe it. It is a 'joy unspeakable full of glory.' All we can hope to do for others is to give them the assurance convince them that there is such a communion, such a 'fellowship in Christ,' that they may be drawn to it ask and receive, seek and find it. Once obtained it will flow unto the house of the Lord. It will need no fetters to restrain, no cords, no creeds, and sectarian names to bind it. Freely and lovingly and naturally it will live, and walk with the saints of the Most High, and reach out to all men the arms of a pure and loving communion. How Xbe Minister Cured. His Horse 'Well,' said Keuben, the story-teller, father always wanted a horse because the folks in Greene live scattered, and he had so far to go to at tend funerals and weddings, and visit schools, you know; but he never felt as if he coidd afford to buy one. But one day he was coming afoot trom uiidretu, and a stranger asked him to ride. Father said : 'That's a handsome horse you are driving. I should like to own such a horse myself.' 'What will you give for him?' said the man. 'Do you want to sell?' says father. 'Yes, I do, and I'll sell cheap, too,'' says he. 'Oh, well,' says father, 'it's no use talking, for I haven't the money to buy witn. 'Make me an offer,' says he. 'Well, just to put an end to the talk,' rather says, 'I'll give you $75 for the horse.' 'You may have him.' says the man, as quick as a flash. but you'll repent or your bargain in a week.' Why, what aus the norse? .says father. 'Alls him? He's got the 'Old Nick' in him, that's what ails him,' says he. 'If he has a will to go, he'll go; but if he takes a notion to stop, all crea tion can't start him. I've stood and beat that horse till the sweat run off me In streams. I've fired a gun close to his ears: I've burnt shavings under him. might have beat him ' to death and roasted him alive before he'd have budg ed an inch.' 'Ill take the horse,' says father. 'What's his name?'. 'George,' says the man. 'I shall call him Georgie,' said father. 'Well, father brought him home, and we boys were mightily pleased, we fixed a place for him in the barn, and curried him down and fed him well, and father said, 'Talk to him, boys, and let him know you feel friendly.' So we coaxed and petted him, and the next morning father harnessed him and got in the wa gon to go. But Georgie wouldn't stir a step, r atner got out and patted mm, and we boys brought him apples and clover- tops, and once in a wnue rather would say, uet up, weorgie,' out ne didn't strike the horse a blow. By-and-By, he :, 'This is going to take time. Well, Georgie, we'll see which has the most patience, you or I.' So he sat in the wa gon and took out his skeletons ' - 'Skeletons?' saidl'oppet inquiringly. 'Of sermons, you know. Ministers al ways carry round a little book to put down things they think of when they are off walking, or riding, or hoeing in the garden. 'Well,' father sat two full hours, be fore the horse was ready to start; but when he did, there was no more trouble for that day. The next morning 'twas the same thing over again, only Georgie gave m a nttie sooner. Ail the wnue it seemed as lr ratner couldn't do enough for the horse. ' He was round the stable, feeding him and fussing over him and talking to him in his pleasant, gentle way, and the third morning, when he had fed, and curried, and harnessed him with his own hands, somehow there was a different look in the horse's eyes. But when father was ready to go, ueorgie put his feet together and laid his ears back, and wouldn't stir. Well, Dove was playing about the yard, and she brought her stool ahd climbed up by the norse's head. Dove, tell what you said to Georgie that morning.' 'I gave him an awful talking to,' said tne little gin. u told mm it was per fectly 'ediculous for him to act so, that he'd come to a real good place to live, where everubotly helped everybody, that he was a minister's horse, and ought to set a good 'sample to ail tne other Horses, and God wouldn't love him If ho wasn't a good horse. That's what I told him. Then I kissed him on his nose.' 'And what did Georgie do?' 'Why, he heard every word I said, and when I got through, lie felt so 'shamed of himself, lie couldn't hold up his head ; so he just dropped It, till it 'most touched the ground, and he looked as sheepish as if lie hud been stealing a hundred sheens,' 'Yes,' Raid Keuben, 'and when father told him to go, ho was oft" like a shot. lie has never made any trouble since, That's the way father cured a bulky horse. And that night, when he was unharnessed, he rubbed his head against fathers shoulders, and told him as plain as a horse could speak, that lie was sorry He's tried to make it up to father ever since, lor tho trouble he made him When he's loose in the pasture, father has only to stand at the bars and call his name, and ho walks up (inlet as an old 'sheen. Why, I've seen him back him self between the shafts of the wagon many a time, to save father trouble. Father wouldn't take $200 for the horse to-day. He eats anything you give him Sis very often brings out some of her dinner to him.' 'lie likes to eat out of a plate,' said Dove, -it mukes him think he's a folks A REMARKABLE CASE. The Sleepless Girl of Brooklyn A Sketch of Her Life Five Years Without Food, or Sleep. Several years ago the papers were full of the particulars of the strange and dis tressing condition of a young lady of Brooklyn, who, by a series of misfor tunes, had been brought to a state of al most living death. The assertions made at that time were discredited by a great many because the authors themselves had not been permitted the privilege -of personally seeing or conversing with tne invalid, and the statements made . at a later date that she had not tasted food in the interval was received with uni versal discredit. The subject created no little excitement at the time, and the house in which the family resided was visited by hundreds of curious people who, it is needless to state, were refused admittance. So persistent were some of the callers that the aid of the police was required to prevent their forcible en trance. As time wore on, and nothing more of a public nature was said of the case, it passed out of the minds of many, and in the great whirl of public cares and pri vate trials, and the ever varying change taking place about us, the interest of the multitude died out. But for all that, the phenomenon has continued to exist, and to attract the attention of scientific and medical men everywhere. During all these years the poor sufferer has lain in the same painful position, save when distorted by spasms, sightless, In a measure dumb, and without nour ishment of any kind, as yet sne re mains with us as great a mystery and unsolved problem as when almost six years ago she was afflicted. The interest in her is revived, and many and ear nest are the prayers offered by loving ones for her ultimate recovery. ; j The statements made at the time of the occurrence were substantially correct, j and from the many files of newspapers before us, and from the family and her self, we have gleaned the following par ticulars, withholding the names of all j concerned: ' ,; - Un to 186S at the age of 15 she was a healthy girl, although delicately organ- j Ized, and possessed of a nervous tempera-) ment. Althougn rragne in ngure, auu what mifht be termed a delicate frame, I her constitution was strong and capable of great endurance. "At the time men- tioned dyspepsia set in irom excessive application to study, superinducing sick ness, falntness, and a feeling of despon dency. In a few months she was to graduate, and neglecting her physical health, thought only of her books. Early and late she studied, until her nervous system was prostrated, and she was com pelled to leave school. This was a cruel blow to her, and her spirits sank until her symptoms became aggravated, and horseback exercises' was advised as a means of restoration. In riding one day she was thrown from the horse and se verely injured. For nine days and nights she sunereu intensely, wnuuui rest, aud it was very many months be fore she was able to be out again.. In June 1865, on leaving ajstreetrcar in Ful ton avenue, ner crinoline raugui up the step ; she was thrown violenJy down and dragged a long distance, injuring the same side of her head and body that had been hurt before. - Since that disaster she has never moved. A day or two. after the accident she was seized with spasms, of which she has been a victim almost constantly up to the present time. The entire body is anecteu by the spasms, and the contortions are violent; at times she cannot be held. One by one her faculties deserted her ; first sight, then hearing, and then when the power of deglutition had departed, she could neither speak nor swallow. During the time that has elapsed since the spasms began, a period of nearly six years, she has not slept a moment. This who are persons entitled to credit. ' The trance is the nearest approach to rest her body ever knows. While In this condi tion she experiences pleasurable emo tions, and often talks with her mother in heaven, and seems to oe reiresneu ana calmer after each one. They usually follow spasms, some of which are so vio- . ... .... . . Al 1 lent that it has taken two or wm yuy si cians and three female friends, six per sons in all to hold her. So violent would they sometimes be that her body would be thrown in the air. and while held up as high as their heads by the hands of her pitying and faithful attendants, the patient would turn somersaults, and make violent contortions, suspended in the air on their hands; sometunes sne would be thrown from the bed, bruising herself and discoloring her face pitifully. Sometimes she would roll like a hoop - forward or backward. Her lower limbs are twisted entirely around each other, the right and left feet changing places; and the toes Dointlng towards each other. At first nourishment was sougnt to oe administered by enema and inunction, but for years they have not been applied. Her system has maintained a- loathing for food and even the odor of it. Such was the condition of the unfortu nate sufferer nearly six years ago, . and to-day her situation is but little changed. Through the agency of a friend of the family we were admitted to an interview with her. and are thus enabled to place before our readers the following interest ing account of the visit : In the neighborhood of Clinton and Washington avenues, in a quiet secluded street, we found the house, and in com pany with this mutual friend were invit ed to her presence. The second floor is devoted to the pa tient, and a prettier suit of rooms cannot be found In the city. From the hang ing baskets filled with vines and plants to the pale sweet face lying so still on its pillow, everything evinced refinement and taste. Large folding doors separate the rooms, which, we judge are always thrown open. In the front parlor are wax flowers, crosses of purest white, wreaths and clusters, all made by her, and are Indisputable proofs of the extra ordinary power or second signt possesseu by a sick girl. : On the piano we saw some of her marvelous wbrsted work, and recognized in its workmanship the hand of a skillful master. She was lying on a large bed beautiful ly adorned witli coverings of white and blue, and about her shoulders and arms were draperies of the same colors. The pillows at the head of the bed, and the diminutive one farther down near the centre, upon which rested the head of the child-woman, were immaculately fresh and pure. A musical box placed near her was discoursing its low, sad tones, and a small work-table stood near by, covered with articles wrought by her own dainty, though deformed hands. Taking a seat lieside her bed, she extend ed her letl hand, tne rigui ucing iwisrcu around her neck, aud immovable, and expressed in this outward manner her pleasure at tne meeting. Her faithful aunt is her solo nurse. and to her unwearied devotion ami strong aud well disciplined mind does the sufferer owe her lifo. When the blow first came upon her, and her house was besieged by tho curious public, who de sired to crowd the chamber and satisfy themselves, she protected herself from Intrusion, and claimed that the sorrows and misfortunes of her household were sacred. In this decision she has been sustained bv the attending physician. who is regularly and carefully noting every new development, iu the hope of being able at some time to detect some thing that shall afford him a clue to the mvstery ot his patient s existence. The appearance of tho suffer is most pleasing. Aside from the marble pallor and the rigidity of the muscles about the sightless eyes and closed mouth, there is nothing to Indicate the terrible seasons of pain through which she has passed. The eyes are simply closed, not sunken, and no contraction ot tho lids Is appa- I rent. As she lies on her right side, the right arm under her head, the appear ance is a natural one, and to glance at her position it seems that of a comforta- Dfe convalescent. But the drapery de ceives ; the arm is hopelessly twisted, and the hand resting on the back of the neck is never withdrawn. In this condition she lifts the left hand, which is tightly closed and very small, to her neck, and with her work behind her creates out of wax those perfect representations of flowers seen in the parlors. Her teeth are nearly all gone, but the mouth has lost none of Its former beauty ; the lower jaw is set like that of a corpse, and it is impossible to open it but slightly even with force.- Her neck is small, while the throat is solid, and utterly dead to feeling; when struck it gives back a hollow noise, and the blow is not felt by the patient. . Nearly every functional operation is in abeyance, and all the avenues are cloied. She could not eat, even if she had a desire, nothing but fluid could be forced into her rigid Tips, and any amount of it would throw her intospasms. Oc casionally the aunt has succeeded in put ting the half of a grape into her mouth, and after leaving it there awhile, has found on removing it that the absorption of the juice was scarcely perceptible. The stomach Is utterly empty, and the lower portion of the body Is dreadfully deformed. The head of a grown person could be inserted in the cavity of the stomach, and a hand laid in it readily distinguishes the spinal column in the back. In fact there are no bowels, for the skin alone represents this portion of her body. Evacuations never take place and there is no evidence in the lower portion of the body that life remains. Al together she is a strange problem, and one that has yet to be solved. The assertion has often been made that she was a tool for designing persons and that money was the motive. This is false in every respect. The family are in comfortable circumstances, far above want; and even were they destitute, money could not be made outof this girl. The presence of unwelcome strangers, who, for mere curiosity couiu nuu n, in their hearts to pay for a sight of her, would throw her Into convulsions. Were it not for the tender, watchful care of aunt, brother, and physicians, she could not survive. Even an hour passed in the presence of visitors exhausts her, and it is not probable that she will ever be exposed to the momentary gaze of any but those who by reason of a past friend ship find it their great privilege to con verse with one who is scarcely of this earth. iWhat that child sees, and hears, and experiences, it is impossible to know. Her spirit U not able to commune with the outer world clearly, confined as it is ta her body, and yet it is nevertheless so much stronger than the material that she cannot control its action. When in a trance it is with the beings of another sphere, and when by the still strong cord of life it is recalled, and she is cognizant of what is going on around her, the body is capable of much mental exercise. She is the least material of any living human being, and her spiritual percep tions are therefore clearer and more dis tinct. What is dormant in others is in tensely developed in her, and the veil that separates the visible and invisible world has been rent by her partially en franchised spirit. AVAll'ABLETABLE. The Large Cities of the United States. The following table contains the popu lation of each of the one hundred and thirty-four largest cities of the United states, it snows ail tne cities naving a population of ten thou sand and upward : cities. 1. New York 8. Philadelphia 8. Brooklyn 4. St. Iiouis...., 5. Chicago ... 6. Baltimore. 1. BoSton 8. Cincinnati 9. New Orleans.... 10. San Francisco. . . 11. Buffalo. STATE. POPULATION. . ... New York 942,292 Pennsylvania .674,022 ....New York 896,099 ....Missouri 310,864 ....Illinois 298,977 ....Maryland 267,854 . . . . Massachusetts. . . .250,606 ....Ohio .216,229 . . . . Louisiana. 191,418 . . . . California 149,478 ....New York 117.714 18. Washington. . 18. Newark , 14. Iionisville. . . . . Dist Columbia. . .109,199 ....New Jersey 105,059 Kentucky .iw,iaa ....Ohio 92,829 ... . . Pennsylvania, .... 86,076 ....New Jersey 82,546 Michigan - . 79,577 Wisconsin. 71,440 IB. Cleveland 16. Pittsburg........ 17. Jersey City 18. Detroit 19. Milwaukee, SO. Albany 31. Providence.-. New York 69,422 Rhode Island 68,904 23. Rochester. . 28. Allegheny . . 24. Richmond... ....New York 62,386 Pennsylvania...,. 63,180 ... v lrgima oi,uas ...Connecticut. 60,840 ...South Carolina... 48,956 ...Indiana 48,244 ...New York.v 46,405 . . . New York 48,051 .Massachusetts 41,105 ...Massachusetts 40,928 . . .Tennessee. 40.246 36. New Haven 26. Charleston . . , 27..Indianapolis 2a Troy. 29. Syracuse 30. Worcester....... 81. LowelL ...... 82. Memphis .... 88. Cambridge; 84. Hartforcf.... 35. Scranton. , 86. Reading..., 87. Paterson 88. Kansas City 89. Mobile 40. Toledo 41. Portland.., , 42. Columbus 48. Wilmington 44. Dayton, 45. Lawrence 46. Utica l ....Massachusetts 39.634 Connecticut ... 87,180 Pennsylvania. . - - 85,092 ....Pennsylvania 88,930 ....New Jersey....:.. 83,579 ....Missouri 82,260 ....Alabama 32,034 ...Ohio 81,581 ....Maine 81,418 ....Ohio 81.274 ....Delaware 80.841 ....Ohio 30,473 Massachusetts 28,921 ... . New York 28,804 M assachusctts .... 28,828 Georgia...... 28,335 ....Massachusetts.... 28,233 ....Massachusetts 26,768 ... Massachusetts.... 26,708 ....Tennessee 25,865 .... Kentucky 24.505 Illinois 24,052 . . . .New Hampshire.. 33,536 Pennsylvania 28,104 ...Illinois 82.849 Indiana 21,830 .'.. Georgia 21,789 Pennsylvania 81,295 ....New York 80,910 New Jersey 80,882 ,.New Jersey., 90,297 ...New York 90,080 ...,lowa 20,038 ..t . . Minnesota. .. . .v. .. 80,090 Pennsylvania. 19.646 Missouri 19,565 ...... West Virginia. . . . 19,280 Virginia 19,229 Connecticut 18.969 Virginia... 18,950 ....Massachusetts 18,647 ...Iowa 18,484 Maine .' ..18.489 47. Charlestown... 48. Savannah 49. Lvnn 60. Fall River..;., 61. Springfield 68. Nashville...... 68, Covington. 54, Quincy 66. Manchester. 66. Harrisburg.. . . 67. Peoria 68. vansville 59. Atlanta 60. Lancaster. .... 81. Oswego 62. Elizabeth 63. Houoken 64. Poughkeepsie. 66. Davenport.... 66. St. Paul 67. Erie 68. St. Joseph 69. Wheeling 70. Norfolk 71. Bridgeport. . . . TO. Petersburg. 78. Chelsea. 74. Dubuque 75. Bangor 78. Jjeavenworth... 77. Fort Wavne.... 78. Springfield 79. Auburn... 80. Newburg 81. Norwhich 8. Grand Rnpids... 88. Sacramento 84. Terre Haute. . . . 85. Omaha 8ft. Williamsport 87. Elmira 88. New Albany 89. Augusta . . . VO. 'oboes 91. Newport (a. Burlington 98. Lexington 94. Burlington 95. Galveston 90. Lewiston 97. Alexandria 98. Lafayette 9a W ilmington 100, Haverhill 101, Minneapolis 104. Sandusky 108. Salt Lake lot. Keokuk 105. Fond du Lac ... 106. liinghninpton... 107. Oshkosh 108. Vicksburg 100. San Antonio.... 110. Concord 111. DesMiiinus 112. Jaoksou 118, Georgetown 114. Aurora 115. Hamilton. 116. Kockford 117. Svhenootady 118. Koine. 11. Watcrbury ...Kansas...., 17,878 ....Indiana 17,718 ...Illinois .. 17,864 ..-.New York 17,225 . . ..New York 17,014 Connecticut. 16,058 ....Michigan 16.507 ....California M288 ....Indiana 16,108 ...Nebraska 16,083 ...Pennsylvania 16.080 ... New York 15,863 ....Indiana 15,896 ....Georgia 15.389 New York ..15,357 ...Kentucky 15,087 ....Iowa 14,99 ....Kentucky 14,801 . . . . Vermont 14,487 ...Texas 13,818 ....Maine 13.600 ....Virginia 18,570 ...Indiana 18,506 ....North Carolina... 18,446 . . . . M assachusetts .... 18.094 ...Minnesota 18,066 ....Ohio ; 13,000 ....Vtah 12.854 ....Iowa -. 12.7IS6 ....Wisconsin 12,764 ....New York 18.69S ....Wisconsin 14,663 ....Mississippi 12.443 ....Texas 14.4.V1 ...NewlHampshire.. 12.241 ....Iowa 12,035 Michigan 11,447 . . . . ins t orcoinmoia. ii,m Illinois ii.ua ....Ohio . . . , Illinois ....NcwJYork ... New xork . . . .Connecticut. . . ....Georgia Indiana ....Pennsylvania. ....Ohio .... 11,081 ....11,049 ... 11,028 ... 11.000 ... 10.RJ6 ... 10.810 ... 10,709 . . . 10,800 .... 10.692 I. Macon.... 11. Madison... 122. Alloona 128. Portsmouth 124. Montgomery . . . 125. Nashua 120. Oakland 197. Portsmouth 128. lliddk'ford li. Hanuibal 180. Ogdcnsliurg.. - - 181. Stockton 182txunuil Bluffs . 188. y.aneavillo. 181. Akron .... Alalia ma... .10,588 . New Hampshire . 10,543 . California . .Virginia 10.600 .. 10,492 .. 10,482 .. 10.126 . . Maine . . . .. . .Missouri ..New York . I alil'oruia ..Iowa ..Ohio ..Ohio , 10,076 . 10,006 . 10,040 . 10,011 . 10,006 The Gold Hill (Nevada) Xetes speaks of a place which U described as "out west," where the local papers chronicle the hanging of a horse-thief thus : "Mr. Jim t:lementon Hjuiie alidnctor, of Min nesota, was lately tiie victim of a neck tie sociable." 5IELANGE, Ode to the printer $2. Irredeemable bonds Vagabonds. A . good side show A pretty cheek. The woman question is he married f Hints to mothers Trent vrmr rial kindly, but not cordial-ly. A XV.w Orleans ruYIiromnn arrAatofl a man for "looking scornfully at him." Cincinnati evades the Snnrlau- lnw hir merely going across the Ohio for its drink. w ' In Richmond, Ind., a ludee fined a woman, and she found his nose and pulled it. If Missouri boarders "blow un" the land-lady, she retaliates bv DUttinsr tor pedoes in the hash. A boys' rjauer in Boston ' advises the Humane Society to arrest all persons in the city who bottle catsup. One more unfortunate. Mr. Lanee- mach of Wisconsin stopped thinking about her by shooting himself. A baby who kisses bis mother and fights his father, may be said to be par tial to his ma and martial to his pa. A heartless German in Newark made widows of four women one day last week by blowing out his own brains. A Western cirl wouldn't bother her father for a new dress, but worked ou a neighbor's farm until she had earned one. A San Francisco doctor advertised for "good office cat." He has already re ceived 243 felines, withthesouthern counties yet to hear from. A young man who inquired as to what business would enable him to occupy a high position in society, was advised to try the rooting business. . . It is reported that Prince Arthur is to be made Duke of Connaught. : If this . does not satisfy Ireland, there is good reason to believe that it Connaught be done. Indiana vouneladies'tempt the feet of erring swains from the paths of dissipa tion by sweetly proffering bowls of but termilk instead of the accustomed giu aud tansy. Old Custy says that six hundred young ladles who fainted last ye'ar, more than half fell into the arms of gentlemen. Only three had the misfortune to fall on the floor. A strict temperance man in Connecti cut would not allow his horse to drink out of a trough which had the word "bitters" painted upon it Dy some peri patetic advertising agent. That immense unfinished ruin, the New York City Hall, lias been an efflu- ' entpipe in the last two years to the tune of fifteen million dollars. Every brick added to it has cost more than a Greeley r turnip. ; :A certain young lady was so modest that, while at a watering place, she re-. fused to speak to ner lover, alter ne shocked her by asking her to walk with him and see the heaving bosom of the ocean. ! At New York, on Thursday evening. John January, while eating supper at No. 640 East Ninth street, had the some what unpleasant sensation of having a bullet lodged in bid bead trom one of tne :'Jes-so." The Oswego Palladium says; A little girl in tnis city wantea her father to go to the loafers and get a -loaf of bread. The father went down oil , the bridge and found the loafers, but they were very ill-BRED. A reverend doctor whose chirography bears some resemblance to Mr. Greeley, undertook to say the other day that s-lass windows were used for lights ia 1180,' and he got it, 'grass widows were used at night in 1870 : A couple of quarrelsome colored St. Louis citizens appealed unto the pistol for a decision, aud one was shot squarely in the forehead. It was no use however, for the bullet was flattened out as thin as a penny and did the recipient no injury. The following is from the Terra Haute Mail : 'If the party who plays the aocor deon in this vicinity nights will only .itinnm. V. 1 1. , i .1 a iuwiaoltnftllff rn ait" where we can scald him when the engine has steam on, he will hear something to his advantage.' Little six year old Georgia, having been instructed by his Aunt Katie to pray for his papa, and being one evening Interrupted in his devotions and told by her that he must now pray for his mama, replied : 'Aunt Katie, you just hold your -horses now. Who's running tills prayer you or me?' A moral against old men marrying young wives is forcibly illustrated in, the case of Andrew MeC ready, aged 90, who recently wedded a woman of 30, near Pittsburgh. He undertook to cor rect her one day, when she knocked him down with a flat iron and danced on his devoted head until life became extinct. She consoles herself with the fact that ha will never correct any other woman. Trees for everybody. For gouty people, the ache-corn ; for antiquarians, the date; for school-boys, the birch; for Irishmen, theoch: for conjurers, the palm ; for negroes, see dar ; for young ladies, the man go : for farmers, tht plaut'in; for fashionable, young ladles, a set of firs ; for dandies, the spruce : for actors, the pop'lar ; for physicians, the syca more; for your wife, the willo; for lovers, the sigh press: for the disconso late, the pine; for engaged people, th pair; for sewing machine operators, the hem lock : for boarding house keepers, the aslt ; always on hand, the paw-paw ; who Is this written for, yew. An Old S try made New The plea of Mr.Whittemore.urged so dis astrously to his client by Gen. Butler, that the cadet money all went to the ioor, baa revived tne old story of the miller who sometimes had crazy fits, In which he alw ways Imagined himself to be the Lord judging the world. On these occasions he would imt on a na - yter crown.aseend a pile of meal bags with great aignity, ana can nis neignoorsin succession. The same ones were always judged, and these were the millers in bis Vicinity. The first summoned was Hans Schmidt: "Hans Schmidt, stand opp!" "Hans, vat ish peen your uishnoss In datodor World ?,f "I vas a miller, O Lort." " Vas you a joost man r" "Veil, ven do vater vas low and de pishuess ish pad, O Lort, sometimes 1 dakes a little extra doles." "Vel, Hans, you shall go over mit do goats already yet," And so in succession all were tried ami immediately sentenced to go over to the goats. Last of all, the miller inevitably tried himself In the following style: " x acoo .wilier, s taint opp." "Yacob. vat islt been your Dishness Iu de other world?" "I vas a miller, O Lort." "Vas you always ajoost man, Yacob?" "Veil, O Lort, ven de vater vas a leetle low, and pishuess vas pad, 1 soniedimeit tiake a litue extra dole; but, O Lort, I all de vile give dose extra doles to the poor." AtXer a long pause, "Veil, Jacob Mil ler, you can go ol'er mit ter aheepa but it was a dam tight squetit."