Painesville journal. [volume], September 30, 1871, Image 1

About Painesville journal. [volume] (Painesville, Ohio) 1871-1872

Image provided by: Ohio History Connection, Columbus, OH

                
us iwsm im.
JAMES E. CHAMBERS, Editor
FI tlI!IiEt:VLKV SATIRDAV
AT PAIXKsVII I.K, LAKE COCXTY,
OHIO.
fF Counting Jlnom awl Publication Office
Stockirell liouse Block, Xo. 114 Main St.
TERMS:
Yearlv, lv mail or Carrier .$2,nn
Six Months, bv mail or farrier 1.25
Three Months," bv mail or Carrier 75
B9f.VoMf.-Iu all' - Advance 1'ayiiirnt
in require"'.
JOB DEPARTMENT.
Book anl Blank ork. Circulars, Letter
l-.ill llculs. Cards and every te-.-ription
of Job Work, executed with dispatch aid 111 the
neatest stvle of the art.
llaving'an entire Dew outfit of Type, Presses,
ana Ma.hinirv. together with a force of compe
tent ami skillull workmen, we feel that our ta
rilii ie are second to those of no other estabhsu
ment in the place.
UIVE PRAISK
WHERE
PKA1SE IS
If votir neighlior does his duty,
And pci-1'ornis a noble deed,
J)o not iv he's only trying
'l'uhlic favor to mi-lead:
Ju-t because hi judgment .liners
trotn vourowii elabli-hed view,
J)o not lieu) abuse noon him . .
lint give praise where praise is Hue.
Don't he hlin.le.1 liy your passions,
But he niaiilv. frank anil lair;
Chouse the sunlight, don't lie lurking
In the vile detainer's lair.
Oil true merit vainly struggles,
i 'ft its friemls are faint aw! tew
Jte not backward to encourage,
JJut give praise where praise is due.
Never covet wealth or station,
" Soon their glitter will grow dun;
thnl coui.ts men by north, not acres,
There's no rich or poor to II hn. .
Prosperous wrong is doomed to perish,
"Propped bv fa!ehoods-tho' it lie;
tiohl-clad siii is crushed by Heaven,
Crushed like bubble on the sea.
When von see a feeble pilgrim
Staggering as he strives to walk,
Ilrother. oiler him assistance;
others niav revile and mock,
Hut lie vours a betteriuission.
trenefous deeds none ever rue
Waifiiil'v not imperfections.
If ut give praise where praise is due.
In -the Lane. -
BY CELT A IBAXTOS.
By cottage walls the lilacs blow:
Kich sj.ikes of perfume stand and sway
At oen casements, where all day
The warm wind waves them to and fro.
Out of the shadow of the door.
Into the golden morningair,
Comes one who makes the day more fair
And summer sweeter than before.
The apple-blossoms might have shed
I'pon her cheek the bloom so rare;
The sun has kissed her bright brown hair,
Braided about her graceful .heaiU
Lightly between the lilacs tall
she passes, through the garden gate,
' Across the road, and stays to wait
A moment by the orchard wall;
And then in gracious light ana shade,
Ili-ueath the blossom-laden trees,
'Mill song of birds and hum of bees
She stays, unconscious, unafraid.
Till swiftly o'er the grassy space ;
Comes one whose step she fain would stay:
tilnd as the newlv-risen day,
' He stoops to read her drooping face.
Her face is like the morning skies,
Bright, timid, tender, blushing sweet;
She dares not trust her own to meet
The steady splendor of his eyes.
He holds her with resistless charm.
With truth, with power.with beauty crown'd
About her slender waist is wound,
The strong, safe girdle of his anus;
And up and down, in shade and light,
Thev wander through the Hying hours,
An all the wav Is strewn with flowers,
1 And life looks like one long dciight.
Ah happv twain! no frost shall harm,
No change shall reach your bliss so long
As keeps its place the faithful, strong,
Safe girdle of that folding arm.
Could you this simple secret know,
No' death in life would be to fear,
Kre in another lleeting yeor
I!v cntti'ge walls the lilacs grow.
CELIE.
BY GEO HUE SAXD.
COXTI.VI'KI).
I'lIWT I'AKT.
f C NKED not ask you if you love
vJViSL the counti-y," she said : "Mine.
I('f ll" Blossay lias told me you are
&oV& verv font! of it; but you cau
hardly be fond of the province, and
we are very provincial here, in the
sense that our little village affairs occupy
us more than questions of more general
interest. It is not a bad thing in itself,
for all desire to do good, but it makes us
too positive and consequently tiresome."
"If these things interest you, they
must be interesting."
"That does not follow."
"Pardon me, you do good "
"All, I try to, but in a very timid way.
What one ought to do for the common
interest of an entire province is so veri
ous anil so relative that it is diflicult to
decide, without knowing a multitude of
facts which escape me.
"Does it not seem to you that, in that
;ase, recourse should be had to persons
who make these facts a special study to
M. do Montroger, lor instance?"
"That is what we all do; everyone
consults him. lie decides and draws
upon us according to our means, and we
contribute with confidence.
"M.. tic Moutroger is very much be
loved in the country?"
"He deserves it."
"It is strange that;he is not 'married !
he would have so much more influ-
once"
'Yes, he would do well to marry."
"Then ypu are of opinion that a man
ought not to live without a family?"
"Xo one ought to live without a fami
ly." "In that case von set a bad exam
ple:" "I? Well, yes ; you are right. I should
have married, but I did not think of it
soon enouirh ; and now it is too late!"
"There is then an age which'. must hot
be passed? You make it very short."
"That is a compliment ! Apropos, Mme.
ile Blossay is very anxious to linrl a wife
for you who will make you settle near
her." - ' "'
"lias she consulted you on that deli
cate iwint?"
"Yes, I am an exception. I understand
.nothing."
"Whv?"
"Because I don't know. .. It seems to:
me that we should thoroughly know
those with whom we intend to unite our
selves, aiud I have no great talent for ob
servation;" '
"Ah, you disdain occupying you-elf
with iletiiils of character as-insipid as
those of a provincial life?"
"I have no right to disdain anything.
I am a nonchalant sort of person, in some
respects apt to be absent-minded often,
and. above all. incapable of answering
direct questions about myself,"
"You would be wrong to suspect any
such impertinence from one who has
come here conscious ot tne respect wnien
lie owes you, and will go away charmed
with you; astonishing modesty."
We talked in tins way tor some mo
ments longer, and when we were inter
rupted. 1 remained convinced mac June,
"Muiv.tu'ui was a person of rare superiori
ty at mind, for the reason that she had
said nothing that any one might not have
enbl ii a well as herself ; but the charm
u'lilf-li -wag iii her attitude and her way
of speaking protested, in spite of herself,
a"ainst tne care ivincu sue iuuk w iipp-cm
insignificant that she might remain im
penetrable. M. de Montroger apparently did not
pride himself on being mysterious, for I
saw him a moment afterward filled with
anxiety, which he took no pains to con
ccal from me. "I believe," he said,
'that I heard you speak iny name just
now, and it has made me uneasy, I have
been asking myself if there were wot
some service which you wished to ask of
ine. which l.inay have forgotten to offer
. you."
"And which I should', havekentreated
-"UlTe. .Mcruui'in to ask for ine? Yours is
a very charming ami ingenuous way of
persuading me to ten you uie guou uiey
have just been saying of you."
Ho attempted to answer, spoke a few
disconnected words, laid his hand in
niijje in a friendly, almost a paternal
manner, and withdrew, leaving me al-
most confounded by his good lies and his
awkwardness.
It was unnecessiiiy for me to look any
further to perceive that he yas solemnly
in love with 31 lie. Mcmnenter,cstless,
iealouA, suspicious, and transparent if.
school-boy. fiance soon brought uie
near aii amiable old lady, whom I had
seen at the house of my aunt, and who
like.! not Ii i iilt better than a talk. "You
:n-e observing M. Moutroger," she said
PAINE
A
VOLUME I.
to me ; "lie amuses you ?"
"Xo. I do not permit myself
"Permit yourself to do as you please,
he will not notice it. He is not the least
curious sample of our little world. Fancy
an unobjectionable hero of romance, a
Saint-Preux, a Grandison. Mile. Mer
quem can hardly move a finger but he
trembles from head to foot; it she looks
at him he seems to be ill. This has lasted
now for about fifteen years, and neither
increases nor improves. It would be
ridiculous if it were .not touching, for,
after all, he is the best-natured man alive,,
and this leve makes him very unhappy.
We have all of us done our best to help
him to marry our dear mend, but with
out success, hhe answers that she es
teems him that she has a real friendship
for him, but that she is unable to respond
to his love, and that she does not wish to
marry."
"Does she give any good reasons for
aversion to marriage U s ?;.
"She gives "none at ' all'fo-f" telife has
none. Can you understand why a wo
man should be without love and tthout
a family? There is no excuse; she is
wrong; ehe knows it; she admits it? and
yet she persists. In short, she is an ex
ception, an anomaly, a lively defiance to
nature and society. You think, perhaps,
that the chapter of suppositions, : foolish,
malevolent, or absurd, is exhausted. . But
everything falls to the ground before the
character of one who does nothing but
good, and seems ever' to be ignorant of.
the possibility ot uoing evil, n mere
had been some melancholy or romantic
incident in her life, it might be accoun
ted for. But, pshaw! in the country a
secret cannot be kept teh years". I ' have
known her from an infant; there is noth
ing absolutely nothing. She is neither
melancholy nor morbid nor accentric in
all other respects. She is loved; she is
so perfectly amiable that we could hard
ly forgive her, no matter what. But
then there is nothing in her to forgive,
and that makes, muliv.io.us, yoojile an-Sr'-"
. ' ...
Are there any sucn Here t"
They are everywhere.' .. , . ,.. '
Point me out one. I should like to
hear some evil of Mile. Merquem for a
ehange."
'As vou nlease. Yon shall see how
silly it is, the evil that they charge her
with. But without giving you too much
trouble, I can enlighten you on the spot.
Look at Mine, de Malbois, opposite us.
She has a charniinz daughter that little,
brunette who was here beside us a mo
ment ago. She wanted to marry M. Mon
troger, and moved heaven and earth for
that purpose. Even Mile. Merquem her
self was engaged in it, though she loves
these little affairs little enough. It was
not to be, however, ana at present the
Malbois, who is envious and an in grate,
pretends that Mile. Merquem was treach
erous ; that she is a consummate coquette
who wishes to have an undivided rule
over all hearts;, that After all nothing is
known of her relations with Montroger;
and that some fine day we shall discover
probably some mysterious intrigue be
tween them. That is what is said by all
those who have any designs on Moutro
ger, either on their own account or on
that of daughters ; but the slanderers are
well known. Mile. Merquem cares little
for them, and appears to ignore them.
Wiser people are pleased with her for
enduring patiently and philosophically
the inconveniences attached to the ex
ceptional position she has chosen."
At last we entered the parlor, and I
could see her in the full light. Her face
and her whole person seemed naturally
to refute the slander. Her features tes
tified to full thirty years, but not a day
more nor less, as if a perfect equilibrium
had presided over the events and emo
tions of her life. She showed in her
movements the elasticity of an excellent
constitution, maintained 'by san, active
and well-regulated life, without excep
tional fatigues, and' without germ or
trace of any chronic malady. Her ro
seate treshuess was that of sustained but
not exhubcrant health. She was neith
er languid. nor "brilliant. Hers was a
union of harmonious elements, a strange
grace which consisted in the justness,
the address, ana tne som-iety ot tier
movements and attitudes, Her erimpled
hair, light and clustering, particularly
struck ine. For me-a woman's hair is
an exact index of character. Its silky
suppleness revearls the sweetness of her
instincts.- its natural now represents to
me the abundance and' the happy dispo
sition of her thoughts. This girl in her
maturity seemed to have attained the
complete development of that style of
beauty whien was peculiar to ner. ..11
her features were charming withoufbe
ing such that it could be said of any one
of"them that it was perfectly moulded.
It was as if the design for a beautiful
Greek head had been rubbed down till
its outlines were softened, and, with the
too regular type of the first design were
niingled the mellower traits of French
gentility. This softening of its form
gave to the expression of the face a frank
ana youtntiu ciiaracter wmcn could
never be effaced. Her teeth were small.
and the least smile showed all of them,
while the caressing and confiding charm
of her smile seemed to me irresistible :
the soul of a child seemed still an inmate
"of the 'body of , a ;wonia grwu and
lui men.
She pleased me so much and I so fullv
understood the , charm that iwaS upon
goor Montroger that l.ceasea. to look at
ber,.dreading--almost to be subjected to
the s line fatality. I confined myself to
listening, desiring',' perhaps, to discover
a void in that intelligence which seemed
too peaceful to be complete, but he said1
little. Did she feel that she was observed,
or was it., her habit to ignore herself?
She proposed to the girls and Jhe .young-
peopie tuai iney snouiu nave some music.
.Ernestine haa a pretty voice ana was
dying with anxiety to be heard, and so
had to be urged. Mile. Merquem accom
panied and sustained her so adroitly that.
m v little cousin , seemed really to know
something of music. Immediately after
ward 6he set all the young people to
dancing, at first I thought that she was
nothing of an artist, she showed so little
effort or pretention j but, ' when out of
politeness to the young girls I began to
waltz, I felt myself little by little lifted
up, as it were, by wings. I held the lit
tle Mile- Malbois in mv arms, a ravish
ing creature of eighteen, wonderfully
brilliant and of reckless imuetuositv
whether ingenuous or daring, perhaps
both, she had a look which intoxicated
uie. I forgot everything to wanton in a
glow ot sensualits like a drunken fly in
the sunshine, and then suddenly the
rhythm and accent of the waltz entered
into me like the breath of a spirit which
purified my dream and turned it from its
ideal in an instant. : Mile. Merquem was
improvising. 1 stopped to take breath
and look at her. she appeared to neither
see nor hear ; Believing herself forgot
ten, like a sunshine employed for the
pleasure of others, she had given herself
up to ner own reveries without reserve,
Under her agile fingers, gradually re-
leasftd from mere mechanic functions,
the piano uiterwove the vulgar theme
which at first It had only servilely re-
peaieu lino uie most iuaryei.ous tantasies,
Jt wa4 a" endless succession of gay and
melaijcholy, tender and noble thoughts,
always original and always running off.
nerore mey conn no mmy seized, into
the liioatKklJfill modulations. Suddenly
I -know not how, as the passion of the
changed and idealized themo seemed to
break forth into a perfect storm of power
and vitality, I found myself close to the
piano, and, freed Irom my fatigued piu'
tier. I stretched out both hands to Mile
Merquem, who, without ceasing to play
half rose as if about to follow ine. But
she sat down again, astonished at her
own distraction, and asked me what
wished.
"You make others dance," I said
I lie genius of lile is in you : you your.
eif Aught to dance like wind and
flame,'
'.f
She Joojced .at me .with an astonished
air, us one looks at a fool W.iuu lie had
taken for tt reasonable ereatijre,' IiVp'-
FAMILY PAPER,
paestesvll:le, lake county, ohio, Saturday, September
er dance," she said, still playing.
, "Yhy?" ... . "
. "I lore to see others dance; that is
enough for me." ' . ' ."
"It is not true," said the deep voice of
Montroger close at my ear. "She dances
like a sylph ; at least she danced "
'Once!" said Mile. Merquem with a
gay and jesting air 'But you why do
you not help those girls to dance who are-j on several occasions when Ernestine at
in want of nartners?" : I temoted to ininose her whims utjon him
in want of partners ?
"Do you ask it of me?"
"It would be a good deed; and you
would not fail in that." .....
Montroger, without answering, went
to invite Mile. Emma de "Malbois, whom
I had left utterly forgotten on her chair.
The Mother Malbois, on hers, fairly
started with surprise and joy, hoping to
see the interrupted courtship renewed.
"You play the piano, don't you?" said
the hostess. '
"A little. Are vou tired?"
"Yes."
"What a pity ! You give life, love, and
youth with your playing."
"And now." she said smiling, "you
must give all these in my place , my fire
is exhausted."
She left the piano and disappeared for
some minutes, as if to give orders ; but
perhaps reallv to escape from the enthu
siasm which had taken, possession of me,
and appeared ridiculous to her. She was
absent long enough to make me feel
tired and out of humor. The young
people of .whose choregraphie graces I
was the director, seemed stupid to me
even the delicious Emma and, J amused
myself by striking false notes and mur
dering the tune for the sake of vexing
thefti. Ernestine' covered me" 'with re
proaches, and my excellant aunt, who
took me for a good pianoist, blushed at
my conduct. At last Mile. Merquem ap
peared; it was time. Montroger was
losing his patienoe of : mind, and help
lessly contusing tne figures. ' l nopea, i
know not why, to discover some emo-"
tion in the face of the hostess. She had
all the serenity of a beautiful soul which
had just devoted itself entirely to the
concoction of an iced" punch. She called
Montroger, to say to him that it was his
favorite punch, and that she had super
intended it herself in order to reward
him for having danced. This piece ofJ
piayiui Kinaness seemea to ine a piece oi
gratuitous cruelty, for she almest brought
a tear to the eyes of the poor patito, an
emotion, nowever, wnicnaia not prevent
him from piously enjoying the sherbet.
Sentimental and sensual,'' enthusiastic
and positive, he nftveiled himself entire
ly to me as he dipped his black mous
tache in his dainty glass ot punch, while
his .reproachful look appeared, to. say,
"Crnel!' A if-'fliis" wertnHI cared
for!" !
We separated, country fashion, at mid
night. The carriages were ordered and
everything ready in the court when we
descended the, steps. - These departures
are cnarmmg on a neanniui summer
night in the country. There are adieus
to be said, and conversation to be held at
the door or while mounting, as if each
one wer about to take. v joHi-iwy.i The
horses fret, the dogs bark, the cocks crow,
taking the light of the torches for that of
the morning. We pass the gate laugh
ing and exclaiming, and then separate
in the darkness, and each 'carriage rolls
away with its two, stars,, which seem to
be extinguished and relit at every gloomy
thicket that they pass.
"Well, what do you think of her?"
said Ernestine, as we were returning.
"Yes, .yes,. answer!" said my aunt. "I
predicted that you would fall in love
with our neighbor.. Have I deceived
myself?"
"No, aunt, you have prophesied right
ly. I adore your neighbor. I am in love
with her. I am hers forever."
"How you go on ! It is not in earnest
I fancy.? , .
"It is as much in earnest as the purest
and most honorable sentiment can be. I
do not believe that Mile. Merquem could
inspire any other.. Nothing in her na
ture inspires an evil passion, and she
herself seems incapable of feeling one ;
but the friendship that she inspires is
sudden and unreserved, with permission
of the lovely Ernestine.?'
"Tne lovely .Ernestine, answered my
young cousin, "is not in such a bad hu
mor this evenings and' she has found out
one thing, -and-thafc-Is that Celie Mer
quem is an excellent girl."
How is that?:' said my aunt. "How
did you find it out at last?" ... ....
"I don't know that I can tell exactly,
have felt it in her look, in her smile, in
thousand little things not to be enu
merated in detail, but which taken alto
gether have made the veil fall from my
eyes. I thought before that she was sly,
hypocritical, and jealous ot all who were
younger than thirty ; in short, a pedant
and a fault-finder. I was never before
deceived. She has a heart, and is sincere.
quite approve of my cousin's love for
her."
A few moments after ''this' profbuiid
revelation Ernestine was fast asleep' on
the bottom of the carriage, like a very
child as she was, and my aunt, speaking
in whispers, said to me, "Heaven grant
tnat tne young man may deserve all the
good Mile. Merquem has said of him, for
.Ernestine is certainly in love."
It seems to me, my dear aunt, that
sne is only sleepy. ' ' " ; ' '
Vln these young constitutions every
moral crisis is a sudden fatigue ; but a
surer indication is the justice that she
renders our neighbor, and the benevo
lent state of mind to which we see her
disposed.'' .) S d v . km
And. indeed, when some davs after
ward Mile. Merquem brought the receiy.
er-general and his son to La Plantier,
Ernestine showed the most amiable sym
pathy tor him; and when the visit ended,
she followed me to the garden to repeat
the praises or her excellent neighbor.
Decidedly," she said, "that (Jelie
Merquem is an angels , She is refined.
warm-hearted, sweet-tempered, and like
a motner. 1 wish to atone for the wrong
I did her, and, like everybody else, adore
ner."
All this," I' said, "because she has
found you a husband, and has said more
good to him about - you than , you . de
serve.-
"She has not found me a .husband ;
will undertake that business myself
whenever it shall seem good to me: but
sue nas iound me a lover, and has made
hlin crazy for me. I thought once that
it must be very tiresome to have a lover
but now I see that it is very amusing to
be warm to-day and cold to-morrow, 'it
keeps liim in such a state of uneasiness ;
in short, I am no longer .afflicted with
ennui, anu you must nave lioueeu tnat l
have a very good friend in vou. and
would like to do something for you, to
console you in your troubles or assist you
in your love."
"Another onel What in the: worlddo
you mean by all this nonsense?"
"l nave good eyes, my cousin : You are
in love with Mile. Merquem, or 1. don i
know myself."
"ihen it is with me, perhaps, that vou
are in love?" '
"Heaven forbid !"
"And heaven forbid, I say too. for vou
would make but a sorry lover. 1 like the
little saver-of-nbthings better to whom
tncy are going to sacrifice me.
And to whom are you quite williu
to be sacrinceti tlon't deny it."
. ."I'll tell yon that by-and.by. I liav
not quite made up my mind yet, Per,
haps J may like' old Montroger beU
ter!" -; -. "
"Of what use to prefer hlin? He pays
no attention to you. . ,
"Oh! if I should decide in his favor,
I should know,, wry well how to make
him think me perfect ; but I prefer not
to know Vhat I wish. The state of mind
Is very agreeable during which one
worshipped without being obliged to
trouble tine's self in the least."
"Such coquetries -n these are meant
for your absent lover, and therefore are
qnite useless here. Keen vour wit for
the day of his return ; but don't be too
lavish ot it, or you might frighten him
a :iy. ami vou would lie very nint h cha-
DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, SCIENCE,
grined to have him withdraw."
During the weeks that followed the
young people became more intimate. M
de La Thoronais, receiver of finances,
was an accomplished man of the world,
and a little empty at bottom. His sou
Julien was more sensible and 'no less
amiable. He seemed to me to be endow
ed with considerable force of will, for
he Avould feign not to understand them ;
so she would loose her labor and grow
pettish, threatening in an undertone, and
when he was not near, to refuse him. but
she was too well pleased with his person,
his manners, and his position to dare to
give wav to her spite. She attempted
sometimes to pay particular attention to
31. de Montroger in Ins presence, but
then J alien would give himself up to the
liveliest enthusiasm for Mile. Merquem.
These two grand personages were doubt
less of good service to the quarrels and
reconciliations of the two younger peo
ple; but, on the whole, Ernestine was
gradually giving way. Theself-willed
girlghad found her match inthe quiet,
determined boy. But was it a real at
tachment ? My good aunt lived in a state
of suspense between confidence and
doubt, hope and melancholy. My part
was to prevent her nerves from being
affected, and the affectionate care which
took to calm Her maternal anxieties in
creased the affection which she had al
ways had for me. Thus preoccupied, I
had very little time to think of myself,
and hardly did so at all, employing my
neart ana Drain almost exclusively in tne
interest of the family. Mile. Merquem,
also, however much she may have dread
ed having too great an influence over
the two families, found herself drawn on
to take a considerable share in the busi
ness of the proposed marriage. My aunt
would hear of hardly anything else, and
our neighbor being obliged to assist me
in trying to keep ner calm, foundj her
self brought into closer connection with
our house, and consequently with me,
than she would have been without this
incident. But for all that we saw her no
oftener. Celie Merquem had habits from
which she did not vary. She came once
every week, and on Sunday evening,
with evervbodv else, we returned the
lsit ; but we were on more friendly terms
than belore. e had a little secret in
common, and so were becoming intimate
in the most natural manner.
This relationship presented many dif
ferent phases to me. At first it was a
frank and irresistible sympathy, without
afterthought, and then a sort of indiffer
ence assumed by myself in proportion
as I perceived the graceful indifference
in? which her tranquill spirit veiled itself
from my observation. What had I to
say, and of what could I complain ? Be
cause I was charmed, was it necessary
that the charm should be reciprocal ? I
eproacnea myseit lor tne lolly of mv
vexation, and found that it was wiser
for me not to think too much about Mile.
Merquem in her absence.
Ine remedy, nowever, was; only tem
porary. It was impossible for me to see
her witnout emotion, and not to desire
greatly to see her elsewhere than in
the little world with which she was so
constantly surrounded. But I did my
best to banish the fancy. I know that
she received no one, neither man nor wo
man, during the week, and that in case
of important business it was necessary
to request an audience, x nad no pre
text for that, and to invent one would be
too puerile and in bad taste. No one
paid court to Mile. Merquem ; no one
oulu. , It was years since any one, even
the faithful Montroger, had attempted it.
was sure to be politely rejected, and 1
did not wish to make myself ridiculous,
and nave tne doors snut against me of a
ery respectable and charming house.
where it was in some sort a matter of
pride to be admitted without distrust.
l nad barely escaped tins disgrace on
the first evening. Now, however, my
manner was irreproachable in propriety
and quietness. I saw myself ranked high
on the list of good neighbors and agree-
agie acquaintances, ana mere was noth
ing better for me to do than to consider
that honor sufficient.
Why, after five or six interviews, did
this easy satisfaction become a positive
affliction ? Was I really in love with this
woman, no longer young, and for along
time excluded from all the world takes in
terest in ? I had been in love before more
than once, and even quite seriously, but
never with a view to any lasting union ;
and I had become quite sure that to pro
pose any other relation to Mile. Merquem
would nave been tne most loolisii and
gratuitous of insults. Was I going, then,
to plunge into the abyss of this passion,
resolved to orave an, even marriage i 1
answered myself that it was impossible ;
tnat mis person wasnve years older than
I, and ten times richer; that she would
be suspicious, and that the world would
be malicious ; in short,that,of all the mar
riages the thought of which made me
shudder, this would have the worst mo
tives imputed to it, would be the most
absurd, and probably the most disas
trous.
What reason was there, then for my
suft'ering? It would have been hard for
me to say, Mile. Merquem had actually
no coquetry at all. 11 her real suneri-
prity over all about her showed itself in
everything, it was without her know
ledge and m spite ot her. There were
even moments when she had an air of
positive afllction and dismay at surpris
ing in my gaze the degree of mv atten
tion. Unquestionably, she never willing
ly provoked it; she even took pains skil
fully to avoid or to divert it.
V hat shall 1 say of this? I shall neer
be able to explain a thing the boldness
and spontanuityof which have never
been altogether explained, even to my-
seii. i suDmitteu to tne insensible at
traction of this passion, in spite, nerhaos.
because oi tne enorts tnat l made to free
myself. I joined myself purposely to
M. de Montroger, hoping to cure myself
oy ine spectacle oi a perseverance which
in him nad become almost a monomania
l tried to think him ridiculous. I spent
hours in snearing at him secretly, and
eacn time i took leave oi mm with a feel
ing of remorse, cruelly and fearful for
mysell.-
1 have never met a man who, at first
sigut, seemeu to me so good and so child
like. With a heart open to enthusiastic
anection, joined to a sweet and even
character, good taste, a very handsome
person, anu excellent manners, what
was lacking to make him lord, and whv
did not this cruel woman love him ? He
had so little reserve in his nature that
soon came to talking with him about his
grief, all the while secretly regarding It
as an analysis of my own. He took plea
sure in answering wirnout evasion. It
was so long since any one luul sympa
thized with him in his hopeless and fruit
less situation tnat he was greatly pleased
with me for being interested in his old
affliction. A day soon came in which
he was willing to relate to me the whole
story of his fatal love for so he called it
in perfect good faith and sobriety.
"1 was only seventeen." he said
"when 1 saw Mile. Merquem for the first
tune. Mie was then about five or six.
and still fond of riding on the knees of
her grand-father, the admiral. What a
man the old sailor was! What courage
he had, what integrity, what upright
ness! Of quite a large family, cut off
around him by a series of calamities too
long to relate, he had left only this child,
whom he adored, She was already large
for her nge.biit slender mid quito delicate.
The fear of losing her naturally induced
him to bring her up with absolute i ldul
gence. She learned only what she wished
to learn, and never knew even the con
triidietion. Her wholt'cducation was
smiles and caresses. 1 mention these
details because they may serve, perhaps,
to explain many things which follow.
Celie lias been from her infancy excep
tionally happy. This she has never for
gotten, and for this reason she has, per
haps, always had an exaggerated fear of
being unhappy.
"To give you an idea of the solicitous
A U A li U
care with which she was guarded, I will
mention a single incident. hen l saw
her at La Canielle the child had recently
lost both her father and mother. The
admiral had just bought and settled him
seif in;this property. Celie was still ig
norant that she was an orphan. She wiu
entirely ignorant of it, and for vears
was expecting, sometimes her father.
sometimes her mother or brother. She
knew nothing of the disaster until the
reccollection of those she loved seemed
effaced from her memory. Up to that
time her grand-father was able to con
ceal the secret of his profound affliction,
and even to make all who approached
her conceal it also. He had a theory that
childhood should know nothing of tears,
that it should be ignorant of even the
name of death.
"This education, which seemed fitted
to produce a monster of selfishness,
served only to divert Celie's innate good
ness and gentleness. No one ever spoke
to her of duty toward any one. She
seems simply to have divided it, to have
invented the notion of it for herself.
Besides a strong resemblence to him in
person, she had the same soul as the ad
miral. Of this she availed herself, hav
ing no other instruction in her childhood
than the contemplation of his virtues.
"She learned very late, at thirteen or
fourteen, as she herself told me, what
children learn at 6ix or seven; but as
soon as she had begun to exercise her at
tention and the memory, she had so great
an eagerness for instruction that, as
Bellac was at hand and as her grand
father was himself well educated, she
passed rapidly from absolute ignorance
to a degree of knowledge most unusual
among women. What she knows I can
not appreciate, and you will never dis
cover, so carefully does she abstain from
displaying it; but Bellac has often said
to me, 'I have nothing more to teach
her. At present we experiment togeth
er; she is no longer a pupil, but a rival.'
"When I next saw her she was about
fifteen or sixteen. My father who was
a distinguished suilor,had bet n the friend
of hers. The admiral was very fond of
me ; he had watched over me from a dis
tance, and had intended for me the hand
of his beloved Celie. I was, however,
ignorant of my good fortune ; I looked
upon Celie with adoration, but I had
never allowed myself to aspire her. They
waited, without saying anything, until
I should become actually "in love with
her. I became in love with her, but
concealed my affections. They guessed
how it was, and, not displeased with my
timidity, encouraged me, gave me hope,
and told me that my happiness depended
entirely on myself; I had only to please
Celie.
(to be coxtixued.)
ANECDOTES OFPI BL1C in EX
BY COL. J.Jw. FORNEY.
xo.'xxxvi.
Henry Clay never fully forgave James
Buchanan for the part he played in 1824
'25 in the celebrated bargain and sale by
which it was charged that Clay gave the
vote of Kentucky to John Quincy Adams
lor President instead ot General Jack
son, in consideration of his subsequent
appointment by Adams to the depart
ment of State. Buchanan was then a
Representative in Congress from the old
Lancaster, Chester and Delaware dis
trict iu Pennsylvania. Chosen originally
as a Federalist, he became a Democrat
under the influence ot Jackson's popu
larity, while Clay, originally a Demo
crat, became a violent Whig antagonist
of Jackson and his party. In 182J-'25
Buchanan was in his thirty-fifth year,
and Clay iu his forty-eighth. The accu
sation that Clay had supported Adams
for a place in his Cabinet, long insisted
upon by lus adversaries, aroused the bit
terest passions, and was haughtily and
indignantly repelled by himsell. lie
was made to believe that the story was
started by the young member from Lan
caster, but this was always denied by the
latter, and ne wrote several letters eltec
tually disproving it, but they were not
satisfactory to the imperious Kentuckian.
It will be recollected that John Ran
dolph, of Virginia, was one of Clay's
fierciest assailants, and he carried his en
mity so far that it led to a duel between
them, which terminated without blood
shed. Some ten years later Clay and Buchan
an were both in the United States Senate
together, and the latter was one of the
leaders of the, Democracy. Clay did not
conceal his dislike of the Pennsvlvanian
and soughfevery occasion to show it.
One memorable day he rose and made a
studied attack upon the Democrats, and
especially upon General Jackson. Mr.
.Buchanan was put torward to answer
him, which he did with his best ability.
When he took his seat Mr. Clay rose
with well-feigned surprise and sarcas
tically remarked that 'h had made no
allusion to the senator Irom Pennsyl
vania. He was referring to the leaders,
not to the subordinates of the Democra
cy. Lpon which Suclianau took the
floor and said tnat the senator irom Ken
tucky was certainly in error, because he
had pointedly aud repeatedly looked at
him while lie was speaking. Clav a uicklv
and sneeringly retorted by alluding to
.Buchanan's slight obliquity of vision.
'1 beg to say, Mr. President, he remark
ed, 'that the mistake was the Senator's,
.. . . . i'. -.. . i . ,
iiol mine. i iiiiKe mm, sir, x uo not lOOK
one way and row another.' It was a
cruel thrust; and when a gentleman re
proached Clay for his harshness, he
shrugged his shoulders aud said, 'Oh
d n' him ! he deserved it. He writes let,
fers!' On another occasion Buchanan
defended hnuselt against the charge of
hostility to the second war with England
by showing that he had formed a troop
ol Lancaster horse, aud rode to Baltmore
to resist the invader. 'Yes, Mr. Presi
dent, was Clay's prompt rejoinder, 'I
rember that event, and 1 remember also
that by the time Senator got into Mary
land the enemy had fled. Doubtless
they heard of the approach of the dis
tinguished gentleman and retired before
the prestige oi ins courage.
But time, if it does not make all things
even, monnes tne passions ot men, Mr.
Buchanan was too much a man of the
world too accomplished a courtier-
not to soften the asperity of as proud a
spirit as Clay. They frequently met in
society in after years, especially at the
dinner-table. If they did not become
friends, they at least ceased to be ene
mies. And in 1850, when Buchanan be
came the Democratic candidate for Pres
ident, he had no more hearty supporter
man tne son oi uie ureat Jventuckian
James B. Clay, who, after having served
in the Confederate army, died at Mon
treal on the'ilith of January, 1804.
Benton, who had always opposed Bu
chauan's aspirations, because he regard
ed him as weak and timid, powerfully
championed him that year even against
his own son-in-law, Fremont. Hufus
Choate, Webster's nearest friend, was on
the same side; so were John Van Buren
and his father, notwithstanding both
held Buchanan's lriends'accountable for
the nomination of Polk in 1844. Webster
himself, had he lived, would," I. think.
have voted the same way ; and perhaps
Henry Clay would have preferred the
man who solemnly pledged himself to
put an end to the slavery agitat ion. Thev
both died, Clay in September and Web
ster in tictouer oi ltaa, and so were
spared the mortification of 'hoate, Ben
ton and tie. Van Bureis, when James
Bucliannii yielded to the flrceaters and
tried to force slavery into Kansas.
Never attempt to do anything that at
not right. Just as sure as you do you
will get into trouble. If you suspect this
anything is wrong do it not uulil you
are sure your suspicions are groundless.
Queen Victoria's daughter Alice is
publishing a novel in a llesse-Darinstadt
periodical, written in (criuan and re
lating to the social life of the aristocracy
of south Gcriii.'iiiv.
AGRICULTURE,
CHILDREN'S COLUMN.
GOISC TO SLEEP.
Before I close my eye? to sleep.
Lord, hear my'eveuing prayer;
And deijrn a helpless child to keep -r
With th- protecting are.
Though yoang in years, I have heen iaught
Thv name and love to tear.
Of Thee to think with solemn thought,
Thy gootlucss to revere.
That goodness ives each simple 'flower
Its scent and heauty, too.
And feeds it in ni$rht's darkest hour
VV ith heavens refreshing iletv.
Xor will thy merer less delight
The infant's God to he.
Who, through the darkness of the night
For safety trusts to Thee.
The little hirds that sing all day
In many a leafy wood,
Bv Thee are clothed in plumage say.
lly Thee supplied with food. ,
And when at night they come to sing,
ISy Thee protected still,
Their young ones sleep beneath their wing,
Secure from every ill. '
Thus mayest Thou guard with gracious arm
The hed whereon I lie,
And keep Thy child from every'hanu
By Thy all-watching eye.
For night and day to Thee are one;
Thelielpless areThy care;
And, for the sake of Thy dear Son, .
Thou hear'st an infant's prayer.
Earning an Orange.
BY MRS. CAROLINE A. SOCLE.
T- T 'T ..11 1 t. It ,,
4 Jj sinking into an easy-chir, he"
'sfKB drew the boy between his knees.
has your brother been sick
long?"
Yes sir," wiping off the last tear.
"Very loiig. W; have many times
thought he would die ; but the doctor
thinks now he will get well again if he
can only eat somethiiie nnrishing. This
morning he said we must get grapes nd
oranges and wine for him, and sister
cried becaused we couldn't, and I coaxed
her to let me go out and try to earn
something, and at last she said I might.
She never would before she has always
kept me in school. She can't bear I
should run on the street." - But I am not
going to live on her earnings any more,
sir. I'm going to work. It's a shame
for her to have to support us all.
"And how many are there of you ?"
"Three brother aud sister, and me.
But O, sir, it costs a great deal to live
now-a-days; everthing is so dear. Will
you want any errands done while you
stay here ?"
Perhaps so perhaps so. can you
tell a sweet from a sour orange?"
"I don't hardly know, it's so long
since I've bought one; and yet " and
the tears started again.
"Yet what, my little man? Speak
out."
"And yet once we used to have them
for dinner every day."
"Then you liav'nt always been poor.'"
"O no. no, sir ! But before papa failed,
we were very rich. Sister says it's all
right, our losing everything as we did ;
but but it seems to me it's all wrong.
O, it's awful hard, sir, to be poor, and to
have to eat bread without any butter,
and potatoes without any salt." . . . .
"Awiul hard! les, I should think so.
Se here, my what's your name, dear?"
"Walter, sir."
"Well, Walter, if you're in no hurry,
and will stay and dine with me, I will
treat you to something better than dry
bread and cold potatoes.
lhank you, sir out l must take tne
oranges to my brother first, aud then, if
sister is willing, l will come back. 1
guess she will be, too,for she cries almost
every day because she can't give me
something better to eat." And he reach
ed for his cap,
"I will go with you and pick out the
fruit;" and the two descended the stairs
and passed out ou the thronged pave
ment. A few paces brought them to a
stand and Walter's eyes rested longingly
on the boxes of tropical fruit, the fes
toons ot hot-house grapes, the baskets of
pears and peaches, and the pyramidal
piles ot golden, crimson and russet-
brown apples.
Selecting a dainty little basket from a
string of them that swayed to and fro in
every passing breeze, Ralph Belmont
placed in it a dozen ot the hiiest oranges,
and on top of them carefully laid a clus
ter of Black Hamburgs, and another of
White Chassellas, and then turning to a
flower-girl who stood near with her
pots of geraniums and monthly roses
;ind heliotropes, he culled a fragrant and
beautiful nosegay, and slipping the
stems between the two bunches of grapes,
he handed the whole to vv alter, who had
watched his proceedings with dialated
eyes.
"This tor me lor me to take home,
and I did'ntearn but a shilling?"
"Yes, my little man. And run home
with it quickly, fori have jnst thought
of another errand for you to do after
we have had our dinner." And he
turned away abruptly.
Had Halter's leet been winged, he
could hardly have reaehed home sooner
than he did. For once ne forgot his us
ual caution, and bounded into his sister's
room after the fashion of boys in gen
eral. "See, see," he exclaimed, "see what
I've earned for Alfred and you the fruit
is for him, and the flowers for , you.
And, Lillie, may'nt I go and take dinner
with the gentleman who paid me?"
"Take dinner with the gentleman! Are
you crazy, Walter?" And his sister
dropped her work in amazement. "What
do yon mean? Take time to breathe,
and tell me how you came by this basket
of fruit. You hav'nt been telling any
one of our troubles?" And her cheek's
flamed, for she was not yet hardened to
her poverty, aud the pride of other days
still stung her sorely at times.
"Told do you mean I've begged?"
And the boy's eyes declined the idea
more eloquently than his tones. "No."
and he managed between his gasps to
tell the truth. "And you'll let me go,
Lillie, won't you? Think how loiig
it is since I've had a real dinner, and
then it'll be sych a saving, because I
wont want any supper or breakfast. Do
say 1 may go."
She hesitated a while and then con
sented, thinking it was but some eccen
tric rich man's whiin. and hardly won
dering that ner nttie brother s lair,
bright couuteuauce should so soon have
w on him a generous friend.
Ilis face and hands were washed
and his hair brushed, and his clothes
dusted, he. had but, the one suit, and a
fresh collar pinned on. Then with a
kiss, he danced away and was soon again
in the traveller's parlor.
Dinner was served in a few moments,
and as Ralph Belmont watched the zest
with which the boy discussed the luxur
ious viands, he said to himself, "1 shall
never regret this good deed, whether it
lie he or not, tor the youngster was half-
starved ou ins dry tare." And again
he heaped the plate of hislittl'5 visitor.
"Are. ytiu sure you've had enough
now?" he asked, kindly, as they rose
irom tiieir chairs.
'() yes sir, yes sir, I shan't want to
oat again belore day after to-morrow
and just think what a saving that'll he
to sister. O, I should like to run er
rands all the time, if everybody- were
like you ! What shall 1 do now ?"
".Nothing, just now. lam going out
by-and-by to hunt up some old friends,
and as i am almost a stranger Jicre, J
should like to have you show me about
the streets a little. .sit itown bv me
while I tell you a little of iny storv."
And he motioned the boy to a corner of
the sola, and then sunk Into an arm
chair. But he did not speak at. once
He seemed buried in deep thought-
AND GENERAL NEWS.
bo, i87i.
Carrying him far back into the past.
Finally he began, abruptly, "1 was
engaged once to be married to a beauti
ful girl, whom 1 loved with my whole
soul. Our bridal day was appointed and
everything m readiness, when, suddenly,
there came news of her father's failure.
He fell from affluence to poverty in the
w inkling of an eye. 1 would have had
the wedding proceed as agreed upon,
but " and he ground his teeth for an
instant "I was forbidden by my father
to take a portionless bride under penalty
of his curse and and my darling
would not marry me with a father's mal
ediction hanging over me. So we par
ted ; I to travel with my parents in other
lands, and she she to begin the hard,
hard life of toil. Two years after we
sailed my mother died, blessing me with
her last breath for my filial cave.- A
year ago my father passed away, and he,
too, blessed me, and in that dying hour
revoked his curse, and bade me. seek iny
first, last, only love and marry her."
I,'- , " (to bb continued.) s '
POTPOURRI.
Bulwer says, "The press is the sec
ond Saviour of the world." ,
An Enoch Arden case is in process of
settlement in the San Francisco courts
in a truly American style. Each of the
three parties sues for a divorce.
'Vill you dake sumding?' said a Ger
man teetotaller to a friend, while stand
ing near a saloon. I don' care if I do,'
was the reply. 'Veil den let us take a
valk.' , ,
'AVhat is your consolation in life and
death?' asked a Sunday school teacher
of a young lady in the Bible class, who
blushed and said; 'I'd rather be excused
from speaking his name.'
A client remarked to his solicitor,
'You are writing my bill on very rough
paper, sir. 'Never mind, was the reply
of the latteri'it has to be filled before it
comes into court.'
A conceited young 'parson once said;
'This morning "I preached to a cohgrega-
tion of asses!' 'I thought of that,' re
torted a lady, 'when you called them
your beloved brethren !'
Two Africans thought to throw a
Georgia train from the track, but the en
giueer slacked up, the passengers got out
and organized a syndicate, and thrashed
the villains within an inch of their lives.
A correspondent of an agricultural
paper asks : 'Where can wool be profita
bly grown r We are ol the opinion that
there is no place where it can more prof
itably grown than on the back of a sheep.
An absent-minded farmer, who started
out after his cow, found the cow bell in
the road, and pocketing it, followed its
tinkling for over twenty miles before he
remembered that itwas not on the cow's
neck.
An unfortunate Indiana girl killed her
self, and the Indianapolis 'Sentinel,' in
chronicling her downward career, touch-
ingly remarks: From there, there Were
only two alternatives rerre Haute or
death.'
An old lady in New Hampshire, who
lived near a river, was asked if she was
not afraid that some of the children
would get drowned, to which she an
swered 'Oh, no! we've only lost three or
tour in that way.'
A cowed Cairo paper says : 'A lady
whose husband is in the city jail gave us
fair warning that if we mentioned his
name she would tear our eyes out crush
us grind us into the dust. We are
therefore mum.' v, y h .
The Church known as the 'Christian
Union,' organized during our late war,
reports 300 ministers, 2,000 appointments
1,500 organized societies, 300 meeting
houses, 40,000 communicaiitSj and church
property valued at $600,000. ..: :
The number of applications for ad
mission to the Boston (Methodist) Theo
logical Seminary the coming year is al
ready so greatly in excess of last year's
calculations that the trustees find it nec
essary to lease an additional building for
the reception of students. "
Dr. Davis, of this place, recently is
sued a circular containing alist of reduced
prices to govern his charges for profes
sional! services, - in - the -future. The
charges for officiating in that delicate
operation which periodically comes to all
families that faithfully carry out the
Bible injunction, was stated to be $4
a reduction of one-half. One of these
circulars found its way into the domicile
of a friend, who, having observed that
Bibical behest iu the twelfth edition,
conceived that his duty in that respect
has been done. When the husband was
about to start down town after tea, on
the evening after the circular had been
left, and the good wife followed her lord
to the gate with the circular in hand'.
"Dear," said she, "did you see this?"
and she pointed to the interesting item
in the list. "It is so cheap, we might now
fill up the 'baker's dozen !' " One glance
sufficed, and, turning upon his heel, in
a voice which boded no good to the doc
tor, he muttered, "D n Dr. Davis!"
Bartholomew Democrat.
LIST OF FAIRS.
Ohio State Fair Sept 23-9, at Springflold;
Wnt. i.ang. President; .1. n. Kilppart, Cor. beci
IL S. Bahhitt. Eee. See.
Ashtahula Co. H. J. Nettleton, Pres.; E. J.
lletts, See.
Athens o Sept. , at Athens ;' Isaac Stanley,
Pres.; J. M. Goods peed. Sec.
Auglaize Co. Oct. 4-ti, at Wapakonetta; J.
Kellev, Pres.; O. T. Dicker. Sec.
lieliuont Sept. 7-, at St. C'lairsrille; David
Brose Pres; Win. Hays, Sec.
Butler t'o.-MJct. ,'at Hamilton; Fergus An
derson, Pres.; W. R. Cochran, Sec.
Carroll Co. Sept. 26-28, at Carrolton; Alex.
Simpson, Pres.; Thos. Hays, Sec.
Crawford Co. Oct. 3-H, at lfucyrus; Joshnah
Koller. Pres.; tieorge Keller, Sec.
Cuvahoga Co. Oct. 3-6, at Cleveland; D. L.
Wightmau, Pres.; A. B. Chamber) in. See.
Darke Co. Oct. 3-6. at Greenville; George I).
Miller, Pres.; J. T. Murtz, Sec.
Deliance Co. Oct. 8-fi. DeUance; W. D. Hill,
Pres.; Charles P. Tittle, Sec.
Delaware Co. Oct, S-6, at Delaware; Larris S.
Felkner, Pres.; Fred M. Jo v. Sec.
Krie Co. Oct. 3-6, at Sanduskv; C. Caswell
Pres.; S. M. White. Jr., See.
Fairflehl Co. Oct. 11-14. at Lancaster; B.W.
Carlisle, Pres.: John G. Keeves, Stic.
Fulton Conntv.-Seiit. 21-2R, at Wauseon, H. B.
Boom-, Pres.; It. L. Merely, Sec.
Gallia Co.-AtGallipolis;McCoy Ralston, Pres.;
3. C. Vanillic, Sec.
Ilaucnck Co.-o.-t. S-"?,it FincUay: Hanks P.
Page, Pres.; 1 B Beardslee, Sec.
Harrison Co.-Oct. 4-6, at Cadiz; S. 1'irron,
Pres.; Jacob Jm-ris, Sec.
Henry Co.-sept. at Napoleon ; J. A. Stout,
Pres; A. H. Taylor, See.
Hoe1 .as Co- jet. 6-", at I-ogan; C. Clowe,
Pres.; H. I Wright, Sec.
Holmes Co.-Millersburg; George F. Newton,
Pres.; IS. Herzer, Sec.
Jackson Co Sept 37-211, at .Tai-ksou C II; Green
Thompson, Pres; J ASells. Sect . , .
Jell'erson Co. No organization.
Knox Co. Sept. 4(1-28. at Mt. Vernon; liobcrt
Miller, Pres.; C. K. Critchlleld. sec,
Lake Co. Sept. J7-SH, at Painesville; John
w arrou. Pres.; l. W. Mead See.
Lawrence Co. ironton;c:. F.llison, Pres.;Thos.
I. Murdoch, Sec,
Licking Co. Oct. 3-fi, at Newark; Joseph
White.Pnis.; I. W. Iliclow, Sac.
Logan Co. Oct. 8-6. at ltcllelonlaiuc; D. W.
Harris, Pres.; K. J. llowenstiiie. Sec.
Mahoning Co. Oct. 3-5, at Cantlehl; Richard
Filch. Pres.; F. W. Beaidslev, See.
Medina Co. Oct. 11-lH, at Medina; Uaylonl
Thompson, Pres.; X. II. Hostwick. see.
Miami Co. Oct. l-T, at Troy; Win. B. Me
Clung. Pres; S. U. Drurv, See.
Morgan Co Sept. 2T-1'., at McConnollsvillc; J.
A. McConnell, Pres.; J. S. Allah-, sec.
Morrow Co Sept. 2i(-S, at Ml. (.dead; I). S.
Tahnadge, Pres. i K, c, t hase, see,
Ottawa Co. J. P. I.altimore. Pres.
Perrv Co.- Oct 4-fl, at New Lexingtou; F.ihvard
.Mose, rn; I , i . Miinnn, ch-,.
Portage Co. s,pt, 2.V27, at Uevanna; Peter 11
Bean. Pres: J Mohurir. See.
Putnam t o sept ST-lt, at Ottawa; Win lllod-
gelt, Pres: G D Kinder, Sec.
Sandusky Co Oct 4-7, ut Fremont; William K
Haines, Pres; W II Andrews, Sec.
Sciot.iCo No organization. '
Seneca Co Oct 1(1-1.1, at Tillin; Wm H Gihson,
Pres; lr F Cramer, See.
stark Co Sept 211-SI, at Canton; J II Bail-,
Pres; J I-' Clark, Sec.
Summit o let S-rt, at Akron; Jas. Hammond,
Pres.: s. II. Pitkin, sec.
Tincarawas Co Oct 8-0, at ( anal 1 lover IS
Hat-mount, Pres; K S SinglutV, sec.
I'nion Co -Oct .'Ml. at M.-irysvillei Philip Sny
der, Pi-es; L Piper, Sie.
Wayne o Oct :-, at Wooi-tcr; Cornelius
Smith, IV.w; I Johuto ll, Sjc.
Wood Co-Oci4-n, al Tontogany; Jus WKoss,
Pres; tl Powers, See.
Wviimlolte i o Oct 11 -IS. at I'ppcr Samtiiskcv;
McM. D. Carey, Pres; A Kali, sec.
NUMBER 12.
BITTEBCIPS A7fl DAISES.
BY H. II.
During one of last summer's hottets
days I had the good fortune to be seated
in a railway car near a mother and four
children, whose relations with each other
were singularly beautiful. It was plain
that they were poor. The mother's bon
net alone would have been enough to have
condemned the whole in any one of the
world's thoroughfares, but her face was
one which gave a sense of rest to look
upon; it was earnest, tender, true and
strong. The children two boys and
two girls were all under the age of
twelve, and the youngest could not speak
plainly. They had had a rare treat.
They had been visiting the. mountains,
and were talking over the wonders they
had seen with a glow of enthusiastic de
light which was to be envied, and the
mother bore her part all the while with
sucli equal interest and eagerness that no
one not seeing her face would dream that
she was any other than an elder sister.
In the course of the day there were many
occasions when it were necessary for her
to deny requests and ask services, espec
ially of the eldest boy, but no young girl
anxious to please a lover could have done
either with a more tender courtesy. She
had her reward, for no lover could have
been more tender or manly than was the
boy of twelve. Their lunch was simple
and scanty, but it had the grace of a roy
al banquet. At' the last the mother
procured with much glee three apples
and an orange, of which the children
had not known. AU eyes fastened on
the orange. It was evidently a great
rarity. 1 wanted to see if this test would
bring out selfishness. The mother said :
"How shall I divide this ? There is one
apple for each of you, and 1 shall be the
best off of all of you, fori expect a big
taste from each of you."
"Oh, give Anna the orange! Annie
loves oranges," spoke out the eldest boy,
with the air of a conqueror, at the same
time taking the smallest and worst apple
for himself.
"Oh, yes, let Anna have the orange,"
echoed the second boy, nine years old.
"Yes, Anna may have the orange, be
cause it is nicer than the apple, and she
is a lady and her brothers are gentle
men," said the mother, quietly. Then
there was a merry contest as to who
should feed the mother with the largest
and most frequent mouthfuls. Then
Anna pretended to want apple, and ex
change thin, golden strips of orange for
bites out of the cheeks of Baldwins ; aud
as I sat watching her intently, she sud
denly fancied she saw a longing in my
face and sprang over to me, saying, "Do
you want a taste, too?"
The mother smiled understandingly
when I said, "Xo, thank you, you dear,
generous little girl; I don't care about
oranges."
At noon we had a tedious interval of
waiting at a dreary station. We sat for
two hours on a narrow platform which
the sun scorched till it smelt of heat.
The eldest boy, the little lover, held the
youngest child and talked to her, while
the tired mother closed her eyes and
rested.
The other two children were toiling up
and down the railroad banks, picking ox
eyed daises,butter-cups and sorrel. They
worked like beavers, and soon the
bunches were too big for their little
hands. The5' came running to give them
to their mother. "Oh, dear," thought I,
"how that poor, tired woman will hate
to open her eyes, and she can never take
those great bunches of w ilting, worthless
flowers iu addition to her bundles and
bags." I was mistaken.
"Oh, thank you iny darlings! How
kind you were! Poor, hot, tired little
flowers, how thirsty they look. If they
will try and keep alive till we get home,
we will make them very happy in some
water, won't we ? Aiid you shall put
one bunch by papa's plate" and one by
mine."
Sweet and happy, the weary and
flushed little children stood looking up
in her face while she talked, their hearts
thrilling with compassion for the droop
ing flowers and with delight in giving
their gift. Then she took great trouble
to get a string and tie up the flowers;
aud the train eameand we were whirling
along again. Soon it grew dark and little
Annie's head nodded. Then I heard the
mother say to the eldest boy, "Dear, are
yon too tired to let little Annie put her
head on your idioulder and take a nap?
We shall get her home in much better
care to her papa if we can manage to give
her a little sleep."
How many little boys of twelve hear
such words as these from tired, over
burdened mothers?
Soon came the city, the final staion,
with its bustle and noise. I lingered to
wratch my happy family, hoping to see
the father. "Why, papa isn't here ?" ex
claimed one disappointed little voice af
ter another. "Xever mind," said the
mother, with a still deeper disappoint
ment in her tone; "perhaps he had to go
to see some poor body who is sick."
In the hurry of picking up all the par
cels and sleepy babies, the poor daises
and butter-cups were left forgotten in
the corner of the rack. I wondered if
the mother had not intended this. May
I be forgiven for the injustice! A few
minutes after I had passed the little
group, standing still outside the siation,
I heard the mother say, "Oh, my darl
ings, I have forgotten your pretty bo
qucts. lam so sorry! 1 wonder if I
could find tliein if I went back? Will
vou all stand still and not stir from the
spot if I go?"
"Oh, mama, don't go! We will get
you some more. Don't go!" cried all
the children.
"Here are your flowers, madam," said
I. "I saw you had forgotten them, and
I took then as mementoes of your sweet
children." She blushed and looked dis
concerted. She was evidently unused to
people and shy with all but her children.
However she thanked me sweetly anil
said :
"I was very sorry about them. The
children took such trouble to get them,
and I think they will revive in water.
They cannot be quite dead."
'They will iierer die!" said I, with an
emphasis which went from my heart to
hers. Then all her shyness "fled. We
shook hands and smiled into each others
eyes witli the smile of kindred as we
parted.
As 1 followed on, I heard the two chil
dren who were walking behind saying to
each other, "Wouldn't that have been
too bad? Mama liked them so much,
and we never could get so many all at
once again."
"Yes we could, too, next summer, "said
the boy, sturdily."
They are sure" of their "next summer,"
I think, all of those six souls children,
mother and fail.er. They may never
raise so many ox-oyed dasies anil butter
cups "all at once;" perhaps some of the
little hands have already picked their
last flowers. 'Nevertheless, their sum
mers are certain to such souls, cither
here or in God's longer country.
Iu these days when the leaders of the
woman's rights movements are search
ing their brains and their libraries to
find all the examples on record of wo
man's bravery, ability and intellect,
Zenobia and Joan d'Arc being their chief
corner stones, it niav be well for them to
read occasionally such ungallant words
as those of Thomas Oiway. who flour
ished in the seventeenth century;
"What mighty Ills have uofc heen itotie hv
woman?
V ho was't bet raved t he t 'apitol? A woman !
Who lost Mark Antony the worldf A womtin!
Who was tito caici' oi'a long ten vear's war,
.nd laid at la-l old Troy m nshes? Woman!
lliese enthusiastic reformers attempt
in csiamisii a general riue upon ecei-
tionai cases. Him are onen umi to glorify
ili'womon u-lcit ,.oil,l 1. .i.-L-.,.,-!...!. ...!
in the other sex as merely the perform
ance oi a regular line ot duty, demand
lug no coniniciulutiou whatever.
ADVEKTIKING 11 ATKH. J
sp tcn. 1 1 w. 3 w. 6 w. 3 m. 6 m. 13 in
iluch. $1.00 $2.00 3.50 tj.iB S.0Q fi-lM
2 " 1.73 1 3.00 5.25 1 7.00 12.00 1 17.00
" 2.50 4.00 1 fi.OOl S.50) 15.00 22.W
4 " 3.25 5.110 7.00 10.00 17.00 2S.li(i
5 " 3.75 5.50 8.75 11.00 18.80 82.(I0
I col. 4.50 7.(l0Ti0T00 I 14.00 I 82.no 37.51)
j ' I 5.23 a00 12.00 16.50 25.O0 45.IIQ
ii, " I S.00 12.50 1B.IS0 21.00 35.00 ti...(IP
U " I h-50 I 16.110 23.00 a.00 S5.W I 113.1)1)
1 " 12.00 20.00 30.00 47.50 I 75.U0 I 13.U
Business notices in local columns will he charg
ed for at the rate of 15 cents ner line for lirst
insertion and eight cents per line for each sub
sequent insertion
Business cants $1.25 per line per annum.
Yearly advertisers discontinuing their adver
tisements before the expiration of thoircontrnctB
will be charged according to the above rates.
Transient advertisements must invariably he
paid for in advance. Regular advertisements
to he paid at the expiration of each ouarier.
MKLANGE,
Shot-guns are epidemic in Mississippi.
The Saratoga Daily Sun has set for the
season.
Grasshoppers chew tobaccoj in Con
necticut. Mrs. Appolonia Threedonble is a Louis
ville litigant.
A San Francisco Pole blew his poll olT
with a pistol.
AVhat ailment may we look for on an
oak? A-corn. ' . . ..
When is a lawyer strongest? When
he is fee-blest.
A bandy tune "Fortune" It is not
common metre.
A Canadian boy has a menagerie of
twenty-nine mud turtles.
A Georgia negro had a duel with a lo
comotive. Age unknown.
If you are out in a driving storm,
don't attempt to hold the rains.
A Long Island Mormon lias fix wives
and only one house, poor fellow.
An old woman of Wisconsin has miss
ed only two meals in seventy years.'
How to make a hot-bed Go to sleep
with a lighted cigar in your mouth.
When "is soup likely to run out of a
sauce-pan? When there is a leek in it .
When a person savs lie wouldn't give
a fig for a thing, does he speak figura
tivly? Many young men arc so improvident
that they cannot keep anything but late
hours.
Bats measuring sixteen inches from
tip to tip are mistaken for musquitoes in
Chicago.
Why is a grain of sand in the eye like
a school-master's cane ? Because it hurts
the pupil.
AVhat does a grocer do with all his
things before he sells them? He gives
them a weigh.
Port and sherry form nearly two-
thirds of the consumption of wine in
Great Britain.
The latest poisoner is a boy of four
teen, in Oregon. He dosed his own
mother to death.
A summer boa'der demanded a reduc
tion in his bill on account of having lost
two teeth. Xext!
Mr. Cash, a hard case of London, was
put into the lock-up for a change, and
there did hang himself. ,
An old lady writing to her son out
AVest warns him to beware of bilious sa
loons i nd bowel alleys.
The Mississippi took a new departure
and cutoff a thirty-six acre lot at Arkan
sas Bend the other day.
The saving that 'it is more pleasant to
give thai- to receive,' applies only to
lacks, medicine and advice. .
Some people allow their affairs to be-
bomeso deranged that their liabilities
quite go out of their mind.
Richmond has a society called "The
Daughters of the Golden Candlestick."
They are probably snuffers.
A man in Atlanta, Ga., takes his di
urnal dram in fonrteen bottles of liorter,
and calls it light drinking.
AA'hen is the most dangerous time to
visit in the country ! AVhen the trees arc
shooting aud the bull rushes out.
Biddle (copyright secured) AATiy do
some trees grow so fast? Answer Be
cause, they have nothing else to do. :
Query Ought an advocate of the
policy of non-interference in every diffi
culty to be rewarded with a meddle.
Having got. rid of the Prussians,
France now mourns the advance of the
phylloxera vastatrix which is a bug.
He who asked the daughter and got
the fathers boot had the consolation of
knowing that his wooing was'nt boot
less. An Indiana groom was ninety-one,
and the bride one hundred and six. They
were married without the consent of
their parents.
A certain writer boasts that he directs.
all his shots at error. It is all that he
has to shoot at, for he never gets within
gun-shot of the. truth.
A youth of six is up before a Cincin
nati court, charged with outraging a
girl of twelve. X'ice mess the father of
the little girl made ot it.
Du Chaillu, who invented the gorillaJ
is on his return from Xorth Cape, the
jumping oil" place of the European Con-:
Uncut toward the pole.
Mr. Harder of Kansas, mourned be
cause he had not married a black-eyed
girl. To soothe his grief he blackened
his wife's e3-es. This cost him $50.
Fond Father. ! see ve've put my son
intil grauniiuar and jography. Xoo, as I
neither mean him tae be a minister or a
sea-captain, it's o' nae use. Gie him a
plain bizness eddieation.'
'Sonny, does your father take a news
paper?' 'Yes" sir, two of 'cm. One of
'cm belongs to Mr. Smith and the. other
to Mr. Thompson, 1 luniks 'em both off
the stoop as rcg'lar as can be.'
Stern Parent. 'Leave oft" that noise
directly, Sack, you naughty boy! It's all
over now, and Kertha s left oil crying
these ten minutes.' .lack. 'B -B
Bertha began crying before 1 did ! Boo-
noo:
A wise gentleman, who knew all
about it, on retiring from business, gave
the following sage advice to his son and
successor: 'Common sense, my son, is
valuable in all kinds of business except
love-making.'
'Don't stand there loafing.' said a pro
fessor at Franklin and Ma-shall College
to three students, standing where they
iiouki nor. vt c re not loanng,' sai.l one
of them ; 'there is only three of us, and
it takes leaven to make a loaf.
An Indiana man has succeeded in play
n ir a thorough confidence iraine iinon
tlio itot.'itn Ion- llo ),1-iiifoil u irr. i i ,xf
corn in each potato lull, and as the
o.iimo im first tlio lino-c tliiio-lit it
corn
was a
cornfield and started 'for other scenes
- i, n.ii, v ..,1. v ix.-.
water-snakes which had partially swal-
lllM'fwl .'-loll fltllOl 1v-lil CllllL-O lUlliinui,,.,
ou swallow nig at rue oiner s tail
swallowed until their heads met.
nnt tle.-itli I nl orf'oreil it. 14 vimiuw.ul
and
Had
............ - ... - ..-.-. . , , 11,11,
each snake would have entirely devour
that
ed t lie oilier.
Ai.i.i nixu to the United States loans "
one of the English papers savs: A mn-.
eminent which has. within five years re
deemed nearly five hundred millions of
the obligations created in ilio conduct of
a great war, and which has at th saiuo
time largely cut down the fiscal burdens
of the people, stands in n position which
investors Know now to appreciate.
Mr. Coulter was the- victim of a ml.'
take in Missouri the oihef day. Several
of his friends gxit together and fitted a
rope around ins mvk and drow hlin u
to a limb to make him confess to the par
ticulars of a murder. lie wouldn't con
fess, and they let him hang just a min
ute more. The coroner's jury returned
a verdict that 'the tleoensed came to his
death by the improper car xenHsed by
the Tom Taylor Vigilance Committee' "
A rural gent of eighteen summers in
vested in n hunaua on the cars Monday..
He carefully removed the peel and put'it
on the seat hy his side; then he broke
he fruit up in small Im'is, eyeing it
anxiously a he did so. When 'this wass
done he picked up the peel, shook it Lu
his lap and finally threw the juoees out
of the window, remarking as he did so
'That's the fust of them prize, packages
I 1 ever iHiught, an' it's the last, you bet.