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.VN'' , 0 w> ? MkMS N i ^Ps^tSjg sw f wmwmÊÈ^. mi m à? - - ■ .->■.- . MSS s JIM r>v a\ ■*«v O' S & <im& nm œ & à j «ä 5 t-kn&ië.. ggSÿ mm. w< KP \ '. <1 I—-L v r^' / » Mfm~ m mmm îjP® ir jgjSP 8 *" % gi (ZliM*." V ' i||1 ' N 11| v\\W ^«2 5c Volume io. Helena, Montana, Thursday, June 8, 1876. THE WEEKLY HERALD PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING. FISK BROS., - Publishers. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. TERMS FOR THE DAIlY HERALD. City Sub«cribi j n» (delivered by earner) per month, $3 00 ( me copy one month...... .................... 3 00 ............... 6 00 One copy nix month«..... ..................... 12 00 TERMS FOR THE WEEKLY HERALD. f>ni ...............|6 00 ................. 3 50 ............... 2 50 I.l \ I N. WRITTEN FOR THE HERALD. Thee and thee only, woman, sweeter than the breath of morn When through orange groves and citron to the sleep ing houri borne, I love, and will forever with sueh unselfishness That my lips shall never open nor tongue speak bu; to bless. In the midst of joy and gladness, as of heaviness and care, In triumph and in sadness graven strong and deeply there, Until death and after, until time shall be no more, [If it he that men remember when they reach the un known shore, What was good on earth] in heaven ; on the tablets of my heart Will be found a page inscribed to Love and you and kept apart From aV. the rest ; and in it I pray you read to find How the tendrils of affection with esteem are enter twined, And how slight the best expression of absorbing inter est seems To the passion that begets it and the bliss of which it reams. AX OLl> MAX'S DIILAM. BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. O, for an hour of youthful joy! (live back my twentieth spring! I'd Mittler laugh a bright-haired boy Thau reign a gray-haired king. Off with the wrinkled spoils of age; Away with learning's crown; Tear out life's wisdom written page And cast its trophies down. One moment, let my life-blood stream From boyhood's font of fame; Give me one giddy, reeling dream Of life, and love, and fame. My listening angel heard the prayer, And, calmly smiling, said: "If I but touch thy silvered hair, Thy hasty wish has Bped. "Rut is there nothing in the track To bid thee fondly stay, While the switt seasons hurry back To lind the wished lor day ?" Ah ! truest soul of w oman kind, Without thee what were life? One bliss I cannot leave behind— I'll take my precious wife. The angel took a sapphire pen And wrote in rainbow hue, "The man would be a boy again. And be a husband too." "And is there nothing yet unsaid, Before the change appears ? Remember ull thy gifts have fled With these dissolving years." "Why, yes, I would one favor more ? My tond parental joys— I could not bear to lose them all ; I'll take my girls and boys." The smiling angel dropped his pen— "Why, this will never do; That man would be a boy again, And be a lather, too!" And so I laughed. My laughter woke The household with its noise, I wrote my dream when morning broke, To please my girls and boys. - — ■*« '-git M- ^ - Death of Another New York million aire. ]New York Correspondence of the Baltimore Sun.] The heaviest stockholder in the Pacific Bank, of this city, also in the Pacific Insur ance Company, died at his residence in West chester county, yesterday. He was a bache lor, aged seventy years, and leaves a fortune of $2,500,000. The property was accumu lated from his business as drover, and what proved to be judicious investments. Mr. Merritt was an eccentric man, and left no will. He had been frequently urged to do so during his recent sickness, but refused on the plea that he would get well. He added, " If I do not, I hope those who receive my money will have as much pleasure in spend ing it as I had in making it." With all his vast wealth, so close was he in his habits (he lived all alone), that he refused to buy a car pet for his floor, aud had scarcely sufficient covering for his bed. Indeed, from his sur roundings, one would suppose him a very poor man ; yet he was the virtual owner of a National Bank and a well known Insurance Company. Mr. Campbell, President of the Pacific Bank, estimates Mr. Merritt's wealth at $2,500,000, while others place it between $:i,000,000 and $4,000,000. A Counterfeit John B. Gough. A fellow, billing himself in the towns and registering himself as John B. Gough, has been delivering temperance lectures in North western Iowa. At first it was suspected that he was an imposter, but when he told the Niagara story and jumped up in the air, cracking his heels together, and split his coat up the back from the tails to the collar, the audience stood right up and said, " This is, of a verity, the créât apostle of temperance." —Burlington Hawk-Eye. CORSICAN LOVE SKETCH. "Siore, it is a beautiful prospect you have from this tower, aud as you are an artist, of course you fully appreciate it ?" Nolan Gordon closed his sketch-book hast ily, and turned from the picturesque land scape to meet the gaze of the speaker. He was a young, handsome, wealthy American, who was spending a season in the lovely is land of Corsica, aud indulging his artistic tastes^iu sketching the many quaint aud inter esting scenes of that romantic island. As we introduce him to the reader, he is sitting in the tower of xYrceui, one of those numerous deserted structures which are to be found in all parts of the island, and which form ro mantic episodes in the history of Corsica. The face which met his gaze was that of a Corsican girl of wondrous loveliness, her dark brilliant eyes scintillating with an inno cent boldness which caused him to lose his self possession almost entirely for the moment. The picturesque costume, the exquisite lace, the graceful figure and musical tones of the girl sent an electiic thrill tbroughjhe whole being of the young man. H is embarrassment was but momentary, however, and he re plied : " You surprise me, fair lady ! You speak truly in regard to the view from this tower. Beautiful scenery abounds in evey part of your lovely island. Who wonders that Na poleon thought Corsica unsurpassed by Par adise? I would be content to live, love, aud die here!" He spoke enthusiastically, and the dusky eyes ot the maiden fell before his ardent glance. "You are an American, yet you are appre ciative of the beauties of lands foreign to your own!" the girl returned, half question ing^» half positively. "Yes, I am an American, and though I am sufficiently patriotic, I must say that there is as beautiful scenery, and thrice beautiful women in Corsica, it you are a sample of the latter. Pray, pardon me—may I ask your name?—mine is Nolan Gordon!" "I am Vinuina Pinelli, and 1 dwell in yon der mansion, half concealed by those olive groves and rowan trees. I did not know that this tower was occupied, or I should not have come hither." " I am glad you were ignorant of my pre sence, if you would have been deterred from comiug otherwise. If I was only more of an artist, 1 should wish to paint your likeness. But I could not do it justice if I should try. I Those mandiles set off the beauty of you Cor | sicaus to a wonderful degree. I wish Ameri can women would adopt the style in pref erence to their present awkward head-dress es !" Yannina's countenance flushed at the com pliments of the handsome American. " You may paint my likeness if you so de sire, siore. It would be very pleasant for me to look upon it, aud think of him who paint ed it!" she said, her eyes glowing. "1 will do my best. Come to me to-mor row at this hour, aud I will begin the pleasant task!" Nolan Gordon returned. The girl gazed a moment upon the dome of a dis tant tower in silence, and then said, with her usual yivacious abruptness: "I will come as you wish. I must go, for I am all alone now, except for the servants. My father died only a few short months ago, and I can not bear to stay alone. You will come and visit me, siore ?" Nolan gazed upon the beautiful Corsican in surprise. Naught but simplicity and purity were visible upon her fair features, and he answered: "I will accept of your invitaton." " She turned to go, but he seized her tiny white hand and raised it to his lips. She turned quickly, and iu a moment was gone. As she walked briskly towards her dwelling she muttered softly to herself : " He is very handsome, and thinks I am also. And he kissed my hand, and is going to paint my likeness, and—and—1 love him!' As she decended from the tower she did not observe the crouching figure of a young, dark-faced man who had been listening to her conversation with the young American, nor did she see him arise and dog her foot steps as she approached her dwelling. As she entered a grove of olive trees near the latter he hastened ahead of her, and stepped into her path with a menacing abruptness. " Vittorio Paoli! whence did you come so suddenly ?" she asked, stepping involuntari ly backward. The Corsican frowned darkly, and said ; "I should think you would ask that! Where have you been ?" "I have been to the tower of Arceni. But what matter is that to you ?" Yannina re torted. "Been in the tower of Arceni with a hand some American!" he said frowning again. " Well ? I did not know he was there." " And be is going to paint your portrait, and you will have to go and see him a dozen times before that is finished. You have ask ed him to visit you, and when you went away you allowed him to kiss your hand! You will love that young American in less than a week!" "You have been acting the spy, Vittorio ! Beg<»ne! I love the young American al ready, and—and—hate you " Her eyes scintillated with passion, her dain ty bands came together emphatically. "You promised to marry me long ago, and you shall keep your word! At least, you shall never marry him!" " I do not know that he wishes me to marry him—perhaps, even, he is already married. Yet I love him, and will marry him if he should ask me." " If you persist in visiting him, you had both better beware." With these words the young Corsican strode away towards the sea, while Yannina entered the dwelling. In the meantime Nolan Gordon reopened his «ketch-book, and attempted to resume the the work which had been interrupted by the a entrance of the Corsican beauty, but he found it very difficult to confine his mind to his sub ject, and at last closed the book in disgust. "Such faces as that of Yannina Pinelli would soon deprive me of my admiration of landscape beauties!" he muttered. "How passionate and impulsive these Corsicans are If I read her countenance aright she is in love with me now. It would not be such an unpleasant fate to be the husband of this fair Vannina, and—but I must see more of her before 1 indulge in schoolboy love-dreams He seized bis sketch-book, donned his ha» and descended from the tower and made his way to Benito, where at that time he made his stopping place. The following day found him at the ruined tower, which he had converted into an em bryo studio. To his surprise he found Van nina Pinelli already present, her mandile thrown back, her round, white arms bare aud her face brilliant in its rich beauty. "You were not so impatient as 1, siore she said. "The later I begin my work the later it will be before I can complete it. You see I am in no haste to end the pleasure of your society," he responded. The gi r l's face grew bright with impulsive happiness. " He wull love me," w r as what she kept re peating in her mind, while he displayed the canvas which he had prepared expressly for her portrait. He instucted her as to the position she was to assume, and arranged her meanwhile with his own hands. His back was towards the entrance of the apartment, and he did not see the dark meancing face which peered in up on the scene. The face was that of Vittorio Paoli, the Corsican lover of Vannina. For a minute he glared upon the unconscious oh jects of his rage, and then with an oath, he sprang forward and dealt the young Ameri can a blow upon the head with lus clenched fist, felling him to the floor insensible. With scream of terror, Vannina attempted to es cape from the apartment, but before she could do so the Corsican seized her light form in his giant grasp, and bore her down from the tower and towards the wave-washed beach, he placed his hand upon her mouth to pre vent her uttering aay cry, and bore her along the beach until he reached a point hidden from the land by high precipitious bluffs. Here be placed lie) upon her feet and releas ed his hold upon lxr mnioh. " You did not heed the warning which gave you yesterday and now you shall suffer the consequences!' he hissed, fixing his snaky orbs upon those of his captive. " You are a spy—a contemptible cow aid !" Vannina reiterated, meeting bis gaze unfiinch iugly. "Be sparing of your epithets, fair one ! I have borne you hither to force you to promise —nay, you have premised already—swear to wed nie, aud no other! You have confessed that you love that joung American, and I know by his every action that he loves you in return. Marry him you never shall! Now swear, by all your hopes of salvation, to be come my bride, or you shall suffer the most horrible of deaths!" Vaunina's dark face blanched, but the re solute look did not leave her eyes. "I hate you, Vittorio Paoli; and I will die a thousand deaths rather than wed you!" she cried, her clear tones rising above the swash of the waves at their feet. He saw that naught that he could say or do would alter her determination. ".Then you have chosen your fate, and when it is too late you will regret your de cision!" As she spoke, the Corsican once more rais ed the girl in his arms aud bore her along the beach for a considerable distance, at last reaching the mouth of a cavern which extend ed beneaththe cliff, and which was nearly con cealed by a huge bowlder poised upon end. Once more releasing his captive, the Corsican said : " A few days ago as I was passing over this spot, I espied the opening of this cavern, and prompted by curiosity, 1 resolved to explore it. As you see the bowlder which partially conceals its mouth is delicately poised and can be easily moved from without, though from the inside to move it is an im possibility. Accordingly, I moved the rock aside and entered the cavern, first having provided myself with a light. I explored it but a short distance before I became aware of the presence of a legion of slimy, venom ous serpents that inhabited every crevice in the walls of the cavern. I made my escape as quick as possible, and swung the bowlder back into place. I said that you should die the most horrible of deaths, and now I am about to execute my threat !" The Corsican while speaking, had moved the bowlder aside,and now he grasped the arm of Vannina and thrust her forcibly into the black, loathsome cave. With an exultant laugh he pushed the bowlder back into its place, thus imprisoning the girl in the vile serpants' den. Without waiting to hear the wild cries for help uttered by Vannina, the Corsican strode away from the spot, leaving her to her fate. The cavern in which our heroine found herself was sufficiently lofty to permit of her standing erect, but it was so very narrow that she could touch both walls with her out stretched hands. Her horrible sitaation forced her to give vent to several wild cries for help, but as the sepulchral ring of her own voice added to the terror of her position, she soon ceased. All was intense darkness within the cavern, save for a narrow stream of light which came in betwixt the bowlder and the side of the cave. Desperately the girl pushed against the bowlder in her attempt to remove it, but her struggles were in vain, for the rock was as immovable, from the inner side, as the cliff itself. In despair she sank upon the rocky floor of the cavern and strove to pierce the dense gloom which surrounded her. Pres ently her eye caught two small, bright specks close to the floor of the cavern, and less than I a in off get In ing ing three yards distant. They were so intensely bright that she gazed upon them in wonder. As she gazed they seemed to transform their phosphorescent whitenes in rainbow hues of marvelous brightness and beauty. As if spell-bourd, she continued to gaze upon them and presently they slowly but sorely com menced to approach her, their hues changing and scintillating, and seeming to penetrate with their horrible intensity to her very brain. An indescribable sensation of horror and dread crept upon her, and she strove to move her limbs and take her eyes from those strangely beautiful objects. But in vain. Strange, celestial music filled her ears with its mellfluent strains, and a subtle charm seemed cast over her whole being. Though she half realized that to submit tothat charm would end in her doom, yet she was loth to cast off its influence. Nearer and nearer drew these objects, more and more powerful became their in fluence, until Vanuina might have touched them with her outstretched hand. At this juncture a hoarse, strange cry smote her ears and drowned the melody which had possessed them. And the cry, as it was repeated, resolved itself into her own name. In an instant she turned her eyes towards the bowlder. The ebarm was broken, and her wild cries of horror, as she realized that those strangely brilliant spots were the orbs of a serpent, filled the cavern, and she drew back from them as far as possible. As she did so, a footstep sounded close to the mouth of the cavern, and an instant later the bowlder swung slowly back, admitting a flood of dazzling light. With a cry of joy Van nina sprang forth from the horrible den, afid sank in a swoon at the feet of Nolan Gordon. The latter had been but momentarily stunned by the blow of the young Corsican, and upon his recovery, be beheld the latter fleeing toward the beech with Vannina in his arms. He unhesitatingly started in pursuit, though taking care not to show himself to the ruffian. When the latter had effected his purpose and returned toward the village, the young man followed along the beach, divining that the purpose of the Corsican was to -confine the girl. He noticed the loose bowlder conceal ing the cavern, and was about to investigate it when he heard Vannina's crie«. The young American raised the drooping form of the girl in his arms, and bore her toward her dwelling. Ere he had reached it, she recovered her senses, and briefly ex plained the horrible position from which he had rescued her. "I must flee from this vicinity at once," she said in conclusion, "or Vittorio will kill me in the end !" Nolan Gordon's heart thumped almost aud ibly as she turned those darkly brilliant eyes full upon bis face. "Vannina, we know lit tle of each other, yet believe me when I say that my intentions toward you are perfectly honorable. If you will trust me I will take you borne with me to America, and there, if I read your face aright, you will consent to become my wife!" As he spoke, the young man bent ond kissed the red lips of the girl, who blushed a silent consent to his proposal. What more shall I add ? Only that the twain did come to America, and that now the warm-hearted, impulsive Corsican girl, is the wife of the somewhat rash, but nevertheless fortunate Nolan Gordon. BOGG'S MISTAKE. He Confides His Business Affairs to His Wife. Fat Contributor " in Cincinnati Saturday Night] Boggs read a paragraph in newspaper the orner day, advising husbands to canfide their business affairs to their wives. It said a great mistake was frequently made by not doing so, and many a man might have saved himself from ruin by adopting the plan sug gested. It is your wife you must look to for true sympathy when you are in the midst of parplexities, and she is the one you should confide in. Boggs laid down the paper and pondered over the matter. He hadn't been in the habit of confiding his business to Mrs. Boggs to any great extent, but he began to think he had made a mistake and he would rectify it. He wasn't in the rectifying busi ness exactly, but he could rectify a mistake. He would go home at once and pour the story of his business affairs into Mrs. Boggs' sympathizing ear. He went directly to his domestic abode and found Mrs. Boggs mopping the floor. It was wash day ; she had got the clothes out on the line and was cleaning the things up. She looked hot and tired, and was vexed, too, withal, because the hired girl had left that morning without warning, and she was obliged to do all the work alone. " There you go, Boggs, tracking the floor," cried Mrs. B., testily ; take that chair on the hearth there, and 1 will fetch you your lunch. Precious littleyou'll get this day, and I have all the work to do." Boggs hastened to pearch himself on the chair, with his feet on the round to keep them off the wet hearth, and with a plate on his knee he proceeded to partake of his frugal meal. He was thinking all the time how to begin the story of his business troubles. He gave two or three preliminary sighs, which attracted Mrs. B.'s attention, causing her to ejaculate: " What's the matter wid you ? Don't that cold mutton agree with ye ? It's all you'll get this noon, M promise ye." Boggs said the cold mutton was delicious. In fact, he liked the cold mutton better cold than hot—that is, too hot. It wasn't that, that made him sigh, he had something on his mind. Mrs. Boggs, curiosity was excited, and she asked him to tell her all about it. " Fact is," said Boggs, "I've been think ing that I haven't done quite right in not tell ing you more about my business. It is to the wife," cried Boggs, flourishing the mutton bone in a highly dramatic waj r suggestive of deep feelings, "that a man must go for sym a to to a of 6ee is met and his out of if to the work! are too pathy when the cares of many for him." Mrs. Boggs, who had resumed her mopping said he was right ; she h id always told him so. She could sympathize with him in all his troubles if he would only let her know. "1 know it, dear," said Boggs, tenderly, "and that is the reason why I want to tell you about those bonds of your dear mother's that you gave me to put iu the bank." "Yes, dear," said Mr3. Boggs quickly, pausing in her labor and leaning in an alti tude of intense interest on the mop handle." "Well, you see, love," continued Mr. Boggs, "1 was going to keep this from you, but Ï am satisfied that a man ought to tell ids business to his wife, and-" "Go on," said 3Irs. Boggs, rather sharply, an eager light coming into her e_w, •• go on nd tell all about the bonds." "Well " said Boggs, drumming on the empty plate with the mutton-bone, " Tripem told me of a good speculation lie knew of if he only had the money ; and there was ' mil lions in it,' but he hadn't the cash to try it on. He offered to give any man two-thirds of the profits who would furnish the capital." "Yes," said Mrs. Boggs, breathing harder through her set teeth (both upper and lower set, on rubber), and her fingers playing nerv ously around the mop-handle, "and you re collected the bonds." " Recollected 'em ? Had 'em in my pocket, going to the bank just that minute. Now my dear, I never would have told you this if I hadn't read an article in a newspaper about confiding—" "Go on. Boggs," said Mrs. B., in a voice preternaturally calm, " Tripem told you what his scheme was, and you—" "Yes; Tripem told me all about it, and he would not have told any one but me, neither. He said it was the Centennial year, and every body would be just crazy for some relic or another of the Revolution. He knew where there was a lot of Centennial money that could be bought cheap, and it would sell for almost any price we were a mind to ask for it. He would do all the business, buy the Centennial money himself, and go to the Centennial Exposition and sell it ; and I thought it was a great chance—never happen again in a lifetime, at least not once in a hun dred years. Such an opportunity, too, to in vest your dear mother's bonds; for, as Tri pem said, United States bonds must bust up, but Continental money is good any time. Bless me, what<n relief it is to tell one's busi ness to one's wife! What—" "But, dear, you didn't trust all of mother's bonds to Tripem? said Mrs. Boggs iu low soft tones, creeping a little closer to the old man, whose back was towards her, and softly spitting on her hands as she trailed the mop along the floor, with the handle under her arm. "Oh, yes I did," cried the unsuspecting Boggs. "Tripem's all right ; he's off hunt ing up that Continental money, aud when he sells it—" " Boggs!" There was a cry like the combined yell of a dozen infuriated wildcats, accompanied by the quick, damp whisk of a mop through the air, and Boggs caught it on top of his bald head, sprawling him out on the domestic hearth. Thick and fast rained the blow T s de livered by that enraged female, mingled with such cries as, "villain! wretch! defaulter! robber of the widder ! embezzler ! confide your rascality to me, will you? Oh, you vile confidence man ! Centennial money for mother's bonds; I'll pay you in an other coin," etc., etc. The uproar brought Boggs' mother-in-law T upon the scene, and when she was taken in- to confidence too, as it were, and learned what had become of her bonds, she conclud- ed the matinee by tipping a tub full of hot suds over him, which nearly washed him in to the back yard. Boggs hasn't been seen outside of the house since, but the doctor says he thinks he can get enough new skin on him so that he can go to Philadelphia about the Fourth of July, and see how Tri- pem is getting along with the sale of that Continental money. - — »► *--- Living; Throng'll Tears Again. In a certain farm house, twenty years ago, a great blank book was kept and labelled "Home Journal." Every night somebody made an entry in it. Father set down the sale of the calves, or mother the cutting of the baby's eye tooth; or, perhaps, Jenny wrote a full account of the sleighing party last night; or Bob, the proceedings of the Phi Beta Club, or Tom scrawled " tried my new gun. Bully. Shot into the fence and Johnson's old cat." On towards the middle of the book there was an entry of Jenny's marriage, and one of the younger girls had added a description of the bridesmaid's dres- ses, and long afterward there was written This day father died," in Bob's trembling hand. There was a blank of many months after that. But nothing could have served better to bind that family of headstrong boys and girls together than the keeping of this book. They come back to the old homestead now, men and women with grizzled hair, to 6ee their mother, who is still living, and turn over its pages reverently, with many a hearty laugh or the tears coming into their eyes. It is their childhood come hack again in visible shape.— Scribner'8 Monthly. The Yelled Nlother-iu-I.uw. [From the Burlington Hawk-Eye.] A McGregor (Iowa) man consulted one Mme. Ludorico, "a veiled prophetess and in- spired sorceress," lor information where he could find his affinity, what she would look like, and how he would know her when he met her." She described a ravishingly beau- tiful and delightfully rich young lady, and the grateful man paid her double her fee. And then the veiled prophetess removed her veil, and he knew his mother-in-law. He rose to his feet with a cold, hollow laugh, and went out into the street a raving maniac.