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The Western advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1872-1874, April 18, 1874, Image 1

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Fvi many a page haa been written,
And the gifted nave aung, in the praise
Of lily-white hands and finders,
In a score of poetical ways
Thin is all very well for a lady
Who lives umonL' diamonds and silk,
But sometimes in life a farmer's wife
Is obliged to do housework and milk.
And woman's best mission thro'out our dear land
Id fullillcd in the strength of the little brown hand.
When the roses are blushing the sweetest,
And the vines climb up to the eaves—
M'hon the robins are rocking their birdies
To sleep 'mong the maple leaves:
The sunshine smile* down 'cross the threshold,
When the labor of love seems bnt rest,
Whether rocking the household birdies
Or keeping the dear home-nest—
Oh I pity you all who can't understand
The wealth uud the worth of a little brown hand.
If I were a man with a fortune,
A million laid by on the shelf—
If I were a youth- if I wasn't, in trntb,
If I wasn't a woman myself—
I know what I'd do In a minute
(While flnjiiT* have often misled),
I'd «e«*k after thoce whose rich tinting shows
Acquaintance with puddings and bread:
I'd iwe nil the eloquence words could command,
A nd be proud might I win a little brown hand.
—Rural New Torktr.
I WAS horribly lonesome. What could
I do with myself? It is only about
Christmas time that the responsibility of
my individuality hangs heavier upon me
my business engrosses me for the most
part for I had been more successful in
money matters than in any other interest
in life. But now the holidays were here.
Everything in my neat chambers was
orderly and comtbi table, and I had a real
satisfaction in the feeling that they be
longed to me. But how lonesome they
were! A fellow just passed my window
with a covered basket on one arm, and on
the other a happy-looking woman chat
tering gayly as she walked. "Well, I
might have had a wife if it had not been
for Charley's perfidy—yes, and Emma's,
too, for I suppose she was as much to
blame as he was.
I wonder if either of them were to
blame? Love goes where it is sent, they
say, and I really suppose they could not
help loving each other. Poor Emma!
Proud, splendid woman I should like
to know what her fate has been. It
seems strange that I have never heard
one word from them since that Christmas
Eve on which they eloped. She was to
have married me before another Christ
mas but Charley was younger and hand
somer than I, and there were
such biilltant indications of genius
about him. Strange that they
have not been realized and surely they
have not, or I should have heard. OU, if I
could only see them again! 1 had for
given them both before the expiration of
the first year, in my anxiety about them,
for how could I forget the charge of my
dying mother? "Take him, Paul," she
said be good, and tender and true to
him all the days of your life. No matter
with wnat ingratitude he may repay your
kindness—forgive him not only seven
times, but seventy times seven. Be to
him more than a brother, my trusted
child fill my vacant place for him. Say
to yourself—it will be true—there is no
crime on earth that would cause my
mother to cast one of her children out.
The more abandoned, the more wretched
thev become, the more my affection shall
comfort and solace them until, at last,
with a patience that never wearies and a
zeal that never flags, and a love whose
strong wings bear all burdens upward, I
will land them within the portals of that
e'erual home where sin and sorrow can
come no more forever.
And now four years had slipped down
the thread of time, each adding to my
anxiety, until 1 felt that I would gladly
give all my accumulated wealth for the
bight of their dear faces once more.
I will get away from these torturing
thoughts, I said I will go out and seek
some adventure, praying my good spirit
to lead me where I can make a Christmas
for somebody, though I may not have
one for myself. I put on my wraps and
started. The streets were thronged how
brilliantly the lights shone, and what an
array of Christmas cheer they illumined.
And then to see the toys! Oh, if I only
had a child to make happy with a gift!
Why, here is a whole bevy of ragged lit
tle urchins, shivering around a pastry
cook's window. Now, good spirits,
whose duty it is to inspire us to generos
ity, I shall commit no act of disinterested
benevolence to-night but I will make
these youngsters happy if vou will grant
me some reasonable recompense. So I
called them in, and bought as they di
rected they were so engrossed and so
joyful they forgot to thank me, and de
parted with arms full of good things for
their different homes. But when they
were gone, the old lonely feeling returned
to me, and I thought uncomfortably of
my bachelor Christmas a^ain.
I passed the next day somehow. I
gave a good deal to the friendless little
ones on the street—God's children—still
holding firmly by my compact with my
spirit friends, and asking frankly for re
imbursement. Why not? Have not we
the promise that, if we cast our bread
upon the waters, after many days it will
return to us
On Christmas morning, as I pulsed out
of my door, I found a child sitting quiet
ly on the step, eating a bunch of raisins.
He looked so hearty and so comfortable,
though poorly clad, that at first 1 thought
he must belong to some of my neighbors.
But no: I had looked at all of these so
longingly and so tenderly, I knew them
as well as if they had been my own. I
thought speak to him.
How d'u do, young man
Dood morny," he said slowly, in a
rich baby contralto.
I did not know what to say next. No
matter—he did. He took a wet raisin
from out his rosy mouth and handed it to
Ain't oo hungry, poor man he said.
I declined his hospitality, but his lips
quivered, and tears came into his eyes.
O yes," I said quicklv, seeing what
ailed him I would like to have some
raisins and stooped down beside him.
His face cleared instantly, and he com
menced feeding me—alternately putting
one grape in my mouth and one in his.
I thought I was doing him a favor he
knew he was doing me a favor, and as the
grapes disappeared began to look uneasy.
Ain't oo dot enough?" he said.
O no, not half enough yet."
E oo is dot enough, now dey'll
make oo sick," and he actually put all
the rest—a good-sized handful—into his
own mouth. Well, it was not fair, but I
reserved my opinion of his conduct, and
asked him his name.
Dotty," he said.
Where is your mother
Don't know."
Where is your father?"
Don't know."
Where do you live
Me's doin to live with oo."
With me?"
E my mammy tell'd me so."
Your mammy told you so? Where 's
your mammy?"
Her's don'd off."
What is your mammy's name?"
He looked at me from head to foot,
mentally gauging the extent of my
idiocy, and then answered scornfully:
Mammy named mammy don't oo know
"And she said you were to live with
Es her said if me would, oo'd dit me
lots of pretty sings."
I felt like the man who drew the ele
phant by lottery. it's most deuced
cool," I said.
"Es, it awfy tool," said the young man,
rising "ets do in de house."
In the house and divested of his wraps
he was as much at home as if he had lived
there always. The first thing he did was
to harness a chair to the head of the
lounge with an old pair of suspenders,
and then to get on himself and commence
driving, "talking horse" most uproar
Get ape now, won't 'oo Get ape!
Whoa, Danuary! Do long dere, won't
He was evidently all right but what
sort of a fix was I in Well, to condense
the matter, I gave him in charge of the
landlady, and went out to see if I could
find his mother. It was of no use I ad
vertised him in every possible way. No
body claimed him, and I concluded that
he had dropped out of the clouds for my
especial benefit. Perhaps the bread I had
thrown upon the waters had been meta
morphosed into meat, and in this shape
had returned to me sooner than I ex
pected. I would be careful how I made
another compact with my spirit friends.
But even yet it seemed that they had not
fully recompensed me tor my kindness to
the children of the past Christmas.
I was sitting one evening with Dotty
by the fire, some six weeks after his ad
vent, when there was a slight shuffling in
the hall, and soon a tiny rap upon my
door. I opened if, and a little girl came
in timidly, with her little finger in her
mouth. At first the light dazzled her, but
she soon peered round the table and es
pied Dotty. He. too, had seen her, and
with a little scream he rushed toward her,
and then commenced the most extrava
gant demonstrations of joy I ever wit
nessed in my life. Of course I was cu
rious to know what it all meant, but they
did not answer my questions. They did
not seem to hear them. It was: O
Dotty!" and O Lily!" kiss—kiss—
kiss,' and Turn up to de fire, Lily et
me shake de snow off oor cloak and
Where did oo dit dat petty horsey,
Dotty?" and then more exclamations and
more kissing. I was utterly bewildered,
and after cudgeling my brains to an ex
tent undreamed of in all my previous
years I gave it up as hopeless for that
night at least, and concluded to sleep
on it as soon as they got done
kissing. In the succeeding days
I found out, partly by questioning
and partly by guessing, that these
children were twins. Who they were, or
what the object in palming them off
upon me, remained a profound mystery
for years. I will just say, in passing,
though a little resentful at first at what
seemed an unpardonable liberty in thus
forcing a great responsibility upon me, I
soon became not only reconciled, but in
finitely happier than I ever expected to
be. My darlings grew in grace and
beauty, and became the very life of my
life. But from the moment of their en
tering my house I was haunted by a
woman, who, in spite of all my efforts,
baffled every attempt to see her plainly.
One summer evening, as I sat in my little
sitting-room with the children at dinner,
I became conscious of some strange in
fluence near me, and, glancing around, I
saw her through the open window, just
melting out of sight in the dim darkness.
And many times after I caught partial
glimpses of a thin, wasted form, but never
once was I in a position to catch or de
tain her. At last, moved by compassion
for what I knew to be in that poor
mother's heart, I posted an advertisement
on all the conspicuous places near my
dwelling, which was something like this:
I the mother of Dotty and Lily will
come to me openly, she shall see ber chil
dren without reserve. But in case she
shall have reasons of her own for not
coming, I would like to let her know that
he to whom she gave them thanks her
with an humble and happy heart for her
precious gift, and will pledge himself
never to prove recreant to so sacred a
Now, so far from this producing the
effect I had desired, it seemed to banish
the mother entirely away and it was
nearly twelve years after the children
came to me that the next event happened
to us.
There was an exhibition in Lily's school,
and she was to have the leading character
in some theatrical performance. She was
pleased and excited quite beyond her nat
ural self. She studied her part with
avidity, and with the most thrilling and
brilliant action she rehearsed it again and
again to me. When the night came, she
appeared on the stage in character, ex
quisitely dressed with court train and jew
els. It was the first time I had
seen her out of short dresses. Who
was it she reminded me of? Surely I had
known some one at some time of my
lite just like my splendid darling. I
listened to her and watched her, with
what pride who can tell until the last act,
when the curtain falls upon her in tableau
—with hands clasped upon her breast, her
tender eyes upraised, the whole wealth of
her pale golden hair falling in one curl
ing, misty cataract down to her waist, the
innocence of angels radiating from her,
and veiling her girlish form with a gentle
jrrace, so wonderfully pure, so tenderly
touching. Through the happy tears that
filled my eyes I saw a halo encircle her
like a rainbow and then the curtain fell,
and I heard a scream from some woman
in the audience. That scream pierced
my heart like a knife, for, lifted out of
myself as I was by the intensity of my
feelings, there came to me a perfect reve
lation of all the inexplicable events of the
last few years—so full of quiet content to
me, so full of agony to others. In vain,
for some moments, I strugeled to pene
trate the crowd whence issued that terri
ble cry. At last I reached her pale,
prostrate, lifeless. Stand back," I cried,
she's mine! O Emma! Emma!"
There is little more to tell. I took her
to her old home—to the chambers she
had brightened with her presence when
a child. She was faded and worn, and
old beyond her years. Her splendid, fra-
grant hair, whose touch upon my cheek
and shoulder had once turned my pulse
to the delicious, maddening rhythm of
IftVA, was nnnr half irrarr lialt miniud
half gray, halt ruine
love wan now
gold." She knew her children, and they
brought all the long-garnered affection oi
their fresh young hearts. But even that
could not save her. She faded from us
daily and at last, with many promises of
reunion in that world where we hope to
rectify the mistakes of this, we parted.
"And Oh! thank God for that older
fashion yet of immortality!" For who
could live to bear the ills of this life if
deprived of the one great hope of a life
to come
Charley had died before the twins were
born, and poverty had pursued her re
lentlessly—bitterly. Oh! if she had only
eome back to the heart that cherished
her. How this thought tortured me,
how it wore upon me and darkened
my life for years! And how those lines
of Whittier rung their endless refrain
through my tortured brain:
Of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these—it might have been."
It was years before the remainder of
the poem "took root in my heart, but at
last I could say:
Oh, well for us all some sweet hope lies
Deeply hidden from human eyes
And in the hereafter angels may
Roll the stone from its grave away."
—Overland Monthly.
A Race for Life*
IN the winter of 1865-6 a couple of
Canadian voyageurs, by the names of
Nicholas and Jules Semineau, were
caught in a terrible snow-storm while
taking up their traps on the head of the
the Big Horn River, in the Rocky Moun
tains. The storm lasted for several days,
nor was there any hope of escape until
the snow should become compact enough
to bear their weight upon snow-shoes.
The voyageurs were yet striplings,
scarcely arrived ot age. 'Hitherto their
father had accompanied them upon their
expeditions, but he was now at home at
his ranch on the great overland route.
The tepoe, or lodge, of the brothers
consisted ot a couple of buffalo robes
stretched in front of an overhanging rock
that overlooked the river.
Here were stowed their furs, neatly tied
up in small bales, made up principally of
the skins of minks, otters and beavers,
with a few pelts of the silver fox. Over
these were laid robes which served them
for a bed. A little fire was replenished
from time to time by the dry branches of
pine and cedar, of which they fortunately
had an ample supply. Thus they were
enabled to pass the days pleasantly, not
withstanding the raging of the elements
Up the canon through which the river
flowed the wind sucked and roared terri
bly. The icy face of the stream was soon
cleared of snow, which drifted into the
lateral canons, gorging them completely.
In order 'o pass away the time, the
young men busied themselves in making
skates from the horns of an elk. The
art of skating they had learned while
boys, on the broad bosom of the St. Law
Their meat running short, Nicholas
concluded to have a run on his skates
up the river, with the hope of killing an
elk, which were numerous on the pine
covered slopes of the mountains.
Rifle in hand, he started in high spir
its, gliding by rocky cape and frowning
promontory, made by the sharp bends
and curves of the river. Where the ac
clivities were gentler, forests of the yel
low pine, cedar and juniper lifted their
dark green heads, now burdened with a
weight of snow. The quick gaze of
Nicholas searched in every shelter for
the mighty antlers of the eik, or the blue
coat of the black-tailed deer, the best of
all venison.
It was not long ere he spied a herd of
the latter, of which he had the good luck
to kill two. The saddles of these he
secured together, strapped them around
his shoulders and started on his return
home, distant about four miles.
He skated leisurely along, humming a
light French air, when suddenly his ears
were struck by an unearthly cry, which
he at once recognized as the roar of the
mountain lion, and he could distinguish,
also, that the cries proceeded from more
than one.
He quickened his pace. His skates
rang hard against the solid ice. The
cries became clearer, and he instinctively
felt that he was pursued.
Fear lent him wings. He dropped a
saddle, hoping thereby to satisfy the
hunger of the lions. He found presently,
however, that they made no halt. It was
the young man they raged after, and
naught but his blood would appease
He now cast aside his remaining saddle
and his rifle, and leaned forward upon his
skates with all the power he possessed.
Yet the beasts gained rapidly upon him.
He could hear their mighty bounds. At
times he fancied he could feel their hot
breath. He gazed over his shoulders, and
the glance revealed the lions, their
mouths wide open, and their blood-red
tongues hangiug over their jaws, while
their cries were as frequent as the baying
of a blood-hound.
He was now compelled to double on
his course, the weight and impetus of the
lions carrying them beyond him. Hap
pily, Nicholas preserved his presence
of mind, and by his skill as a
skater, combined with wonderful ac
tivity, he eluded the efforts made by the
lions to seize him, and drew slowly toward
home. Presently he saw the smoke curl
ing from under the rocky shelf, and as he
shot past his ears were greeted by the
welcome crack of a rifle, and one of the
lions tumbled over dead almost at his feet.
The voyager again turned toward the
rock. Jules had reloaded. His unerring
aim stretched the remaining lion upon the
ice, and Nicholas was saved. It was some
months, however, ere he fully recovered
from the superhuman efforts made by him
in his race for life.
The next summer he served as a guide,
and it was while fishing in the same river
that he related to the writer his thrilling
adventure.—Edward B. Beaton, in What
—The following patent has been recent
ly granted for hardening steel: The ob
ject is heated to a red heat by any of the
ordinary methods for uniform heating. It
is then chilled by the action of a strong
blast of air or gas By suitable variations
in the strength of the blast and the tem
perature of the air any required degree of
hardness may be attained. After this the
substance is tempered as is desired.
A COLQUITT (Ga.) minister is the father
of thirty-two children." How neatly could
he preach a sermon from that olive-branch
text, with illustrations in all the front
OHIO will be seventy-two years old on
Nov. 29.
BALD MOUNTAIN can't be parted in the
middle, anyway.
RONDOUT, N. Y., has a highway woman.
Such is progress!
SHELBYVILLE, Ky., has the first potato
bug of the season.
WHAT this country needs is more fences
or less medicines.
JAMAICA ginger is extensively cultivated
on Dunn's Lake, Fla.
I you are buying carpets for durabil
ity, choose small figures.
A HOT shovel held over varnished furni
ture will take out white spots.
E song of the ladies' temperance
bands—" Going thro' the Rye."
PHILADELPHIA has fcrar establishments
devoted to the production of linseed oil.
PURE love cannot be attracted to un
cleanness and meanness of body or soul.
E woman's movement of furniture
and household utensils will soon begin.
FIFTY rattlesnakes were plowed up in
one day off a Douglas County (Or.)
HARTWELL, Ga., has a man 86 years
old that has just married for the first
A TALKING rat has appeared in Alexan
dria, Va. In other words, it can open
its trap.
A GALLON of strong lye put into a bar
rel of hard water will make it as soft as
Wisconsin, is reported to be worth $16,
IT is reported that Mrs. Harriet Beech
er Stowe will not write any more for sev
eral years.
E awful punishment of doing evil is
that you become evil, so you have no dis
position to do otherwise.
IN a New Hampshire graveyard there
is a tomb thus marked: Sacred to the
memory of three twins."
DBATH has a strange dignity, and
whatever child of Adam he lays his hand
on is for the time ennobled.
WOOD LICE" in frames or in pots may
be trapped with a piece of apple or
potato as bait loosely incased in dry moss.
BRET HARTE'S star doesn't appear to be
in the ascendant. Boston came near
squelching him. California is his ele
ONE of the nicest ways of committing
suicide and of revenging yourself on your
neighbor at the same time is to jump
down his well.
WHAT is better," anxiously inquires
a Western exchange, than a promising
young man?" By all odds, a promising
young woman.
BURNING FLUID is not a good vehicle to
fry cabbage in, as Mrs. Schottenhofer, of
Adrian, Mich., discovered. She thought
it was vinegar.
W E N your pocket-book gets empty
and everybody knows it, you can put all
your friends in it and it won't bulge
out" worth a cent.
PENFIELD, N. Y., has live ladies who
weigh over 200 pounds each, and
when they all sit down at once the jar is
felt all over the town.
THERE are moments when even relig
ious fervor requires a diversion, and nov
elty of emotion becomes as much a neces
sity as a change of diet.
E telegraph message boys of Albany
formed a ring recently, and charged and
received pay for over 2,000 messages that
had never been received,
A HAVANA paper says that America
must be taught a lesson, and that Spain
must be the teacher. Every prudent family
will throw up fortifications right away.
PROF. H. R. PALMER of Chicago, Prof.
L. O. Emerson of Boston, and other noted
teachers hold a four weeks' Musical Insti
tute at Dunkirk, N. Y., beginning July 19.
A DIVORCE lawyer's advertisement:
Hymeneal incompatibilities, as a spe
cialty, delicately adjusted. 'Tis slavery
to detain the hand after the heart hath
A MAN in Wilmington, N is thus
described by a young lady of the same
city: He is so stingy that whenever he
smiles it is always at his neighbor's ex
ARTEMU8 SPINNER, of Duluth, doesn't
care about making a hog of himself, but
he'll wager $1,000 that he. can devour
three pounds of maple sugar inside of
thirty minutes.
AN Iowa Judge has decided that a
feller can wink at a gal in spellin' school
without laying himself liable to a breach
of promise suit," but alas! the spelling
school season has closed.
A DANBURY man having proudly pro
claimed in the presence of his little boy
that his wife was no gadder, the young
man was observed to involuntarily rub
his back, but he said nothing.
A WHOLE generation of parents already
occupies this mundane sphere who cannot
describe to inquiring childhood a warm
ing-pan, a foot-stove, a tinder-box, a brick
oven, a crane, or a candle-mold.
E Rochester Chronicle thinks that
Anna Dickinson is doing the noblest
work of her life," but perhaps it never
saw a young lady scientifically flourish
ing the dish-cloth and the broom.
W E N a Tennessee father walks into a
newspaper office with a shot-gun on his
arm and says: My darter has writ some
poetry which I want you to publish,"
how's a feller going to plead press of mat
ONE of the oldest, ablest and best
known members of the Suffolk bar once
dryly said that there was no such thing ae
knowing what law was until the Suprems
Court had had its opportunity to guess
at it.
W I TH brotherly affection and a fellow
feeling the Detroit Free Press inquires:
Is the new editor of the Milwaukee Sen
tinel perfectly certain that his forte does
not He in chopping cordwood or tending
toll gate?"
E Philadelphia boot-black gives
what he calls centennial shines," and
we suppose the boarding-house keeper of
the same locality presents her patrons
with none but centennial hens. And
this is patriotism.—Rochester Chronicle.
W E N a Sheriff down in Vermont, in
opening the County Court, the other day,
cried: "All persons having causes or
matters pending therein draw near, and
they shall be heard, and God save the
people!" he was a satirist and didn't
know it.
MRS. DELIA GOLDIN, a Washington
lady, died at asocial gathering the other
evening, at the parsonage of Dr. E. J.
Drinkhouse. She was just in the act of
partaking of some ice-cream, when she
dropped the saucer and fell to the floor,
dying in a couple of hours, from apoplexy.
AN INSTANCE of rare honesty, and show
ing how a dog may desire to pay his
board bill, recently occurred inFitchburg,
Mass. A lady saw a dog frequently abou
her house picking up odd bits which had
been thrown out, and one day she called
him in and fed him. The next day he
came back, and as she opened the door
he walked in and laid an egg on the floor,
when he was again fed. The following
day he brought his egg to pay for his din
ner, and on the fourth day he brought the
old hen herself, who, it seemed, had failed
to furnish the required egg.
A NEAT little swindling game of the
bogus detective order has lately come to
grief in New York. One Edward Cox
by some means discovered that John E.
Williams, a clerk in a drug store, had
$1,189 in bank. Ascertaining that Will
iams' salary was only $14 per week, he
jumped at the conclu«ion that Williams
was robbing his employer. Cox sought
and obtained an interview with Williams
employer. As Cox was not willing to
tell the cause of his suspicion, the inter
view terminated without any decided re
sult. It was, however, admitted that
there were doubts as to Williams' honesty.
Thus fortified, Cox saw Williams, and af
ter telling him that he was a private de
tective, and that he knew of Williams'
knocking down $10 per day, offered to
compromise the matter and rid Williams
of the suspicion on payment of $200.
This Williams agreed to, and arranged to
meet Cox next day and pay him. Mr.
Williams then notified the police. The
next day Williams met Cox and handed
him a package of $50 in $1 bills, care
fully marked. As soon as Cox had taken
the money he was arrested. At his trial
at the General Sessions it transpired that
he had lately been discharged from the
State Prison. He was sentenced to one
year in the Penitentiary for confidence
operating and black-mailing.
Peter, the Pumpkin Eater.
Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater,
Had a wife and couldn't keep her,
—Mother Ooose.
He pu. her in a pnmpkine
And there he kept her very well.
IT is an unfortunate thing to have a
wife and to be unable to keep her. There
are several ways of keeping a wife, among
which might be mentioned, keeping her
keeping her at home, keeping her
well provided for, keeping her out of mis
chief, keeping her afloat, in case of a
steamboat accident, and keeping her com
pany evenings in short there is an in
definite number of ways for a man to
keep his wife in case he is capable of
keeping her.
Every married man should endeavor to
keep his wife happy. I do not affirm that
every married man is capable of doing
this, for many men are so unfortunate as
to be married to women who are incapa
ble of being happy. Such men are mar
tyrs, and deserve the tender commisera
tion of the whole civilized world. The
best thing that they can do is to keep
cool and Keep their wives in good temper
if it is a possible thing for them to do so.
The wife is the central figure of a
happy home. It is her influence that
creates the most perfect home happiness.
Therefore he who has a worthy wife
should use every endeavor to keep her
happy, for upon her amiability and good
nature depend the peace and comfort that
a husband finds about his home fireside.
Keep your wife at home if you can,
that is if you have a home for her, if not,
make it your first effort to. furnish her
with a home. It is no profit to a woman
to be running about the neighborhood she
lives in, acquiring habits of idleness and
to the neglect of her domestic duties. One
of the best ways for a man to keep his
wife at home is to stay at home himself.
Keep her well provided for see that the
kindlings are properly split and prepared
for her to light the customary morning
fires, unless you are patriotic enough to
arise and perform that onerous duty your
self see that she has a new calico gown,
a switch, anew bonnet and a pair of gaiter
boots occasionally, and you will find that
it will produce a marked change in her
disposition and demeanor.
Keep her out of mischief, do not let her
acquire a habit of gossiping about the
various doinga of the neighbors, provide
her with some pleasant occupation, and
take her to an occasional concert or
And so I might mention many other
methods of keeping a wife. A man must
use his own judgment and reason in the
matter. If he is unhappy in his various
domestic relations, let him thoughtfully
sit down and soberly reflect upon his sit
uation, and try to come to some correct
conclusion as to the cause of his various
difficulties, disagreements and perplexi
ties. He will find in many instances that
the fault lies in himself, either in his neg
lect or innate selfishness. He can by a
little tact and kindness make his home
happy and his existence thus quite toler
able, if only he has the mind to do so.
Peter" was at first a very unfortunate
man, not because he had a wife—for a
good wife is a real treasure—but because
of his inability to keep his better part.
Probably his first impulse was to devout
ly wish himself a bachelor again. How
many melancholy male beings have
lived since Peter's time that have lived
long, strangely suffered, and despairingly
died, wishing wishes for a like freedom,
that in the course of human events was
impossible. Peter reflecting upon his
situation determined to make the best of
it he provided his wife with a home. It
was an humble habitation, a pumpkin
shell, but it was better than nothing, and
we can only infer from the conclusion of
his brief narrative that he was subse
quently prosperous and happy.
If a man therefore does as well as he is
able, his wife should never find fault with
him because he does not do better she
should have a proper consideration for
his wordly interests, and not endeavor to
lead him to live beyond his means.
I know of few things more worthy of
emulation than the example of a model
wife, who, having her husband's interests
truly at heart, uses her influence, good
judgment, and her own willing hands to
help him to get a start in the world. The
conduct of such a woman will often do
more than a man's own ambition to stim
ulate him to greater and nobler efforts in
the achievement of worldly success and
prosperity.—Eugene J. Hall, in Our Fire
side Friend.
—The largest tree in Brookline, N. H.,
has Just been cut and sawed. It was a
pine, 180 years old. The first log, 13 feet
long, made 800 feet of inch boards the
whole tree, 3,317 feet.
EIGHT HUNDRED suckers were caught
in a single draught of a seine in the Dela
ware River, a.bove Easton, Pa.
Situations Wanted.
E Galena Gazette gives the following
advice to young men in reference to leav
ing the country for the city:
One can scarcely turn to any newspaper
of any of the large cities without at once
lighting upon advertisements of situa
ations wanted." In the country news
papers such an advertisement is rarely
seen. In the Chicago Tribune, for in
stance, how frequently do we see adver
tisements like this: Situation wanted by
a young man able and willing to work at
anything honest and that will keen him
from want."
We never read these advertisements
without a feeling of sadness. In each we
seem to hear a cry of distress, an appeal
to society to save some one from destitu
tion, from want, perhaps from beggary,
possibly from crime. From events and
circumstances of this nature it is not dif
ficult to derive the inference that, in pro
portion to the country, our cities are over
popuiated. And yet the tide is constantly
setting in from the country to the cities.
Young men are no sooner emancipated
from parental control than they rush into
the cities with the hope of there finding
at once employment that will be light and
lucrative, at which fortunes can be speed
ily made without toil.
The common mistake seems to have no
effect in curing itself. It is constantly re
peated by other victims actuated by like
hopes and deluded by similar expecta
tions. Meanwhile, what is the conse
quence? The population of the country
is actually diminishing, while the popu
lation of the cities, already overcrowded,
is rapidly increasing. And hence it is
that we find in all city papers these stir
ring advertisements headed "Situation
wanted," while nothing of the kind ap
pears in the country papers.
There is to our young men a lesson in
this. In the country you are needed in
the city you are not wanted. The land is
full of employment, and living and wages
are good. The cities do not invite you to
come the country does. Why then do
our young men cling to the cities? It is
no unfrequent occurrence to find men,
both able and willing to work, wandering
in want through the streets of our cities,
with pauperism at hand and beggary be
fore them, when they know that a day's
travel would take them to where employ
ment is awaiting them, with all the abun
dance that farm and garden can afford.
And still they cling to the bustling
street, finding food and sleep in damp and
noisome quarters, when they might
have both in places of health and cemtort.
The facts are ominous of evil. They pro
claim to the young men of the country
who have their fortunes and livelihood
to make, to shun the cities and betake
themselves to the country, where employ
ment never fails, where advertisements
for situations are unnecessary, and where
comfort and contentment are the equiva
lent of labor.
A Serious Piece of Amusement.
SUNDAY afternoon two young men,
named Walter Scott and George Grief,
were target-shooting with revolvers on the
commons near the north end of Prospect
street, when an old man named Sotisky, a
Polander, came along. The young men
saw a chance for sport and they demanded
his hat. He seemed so frightened when
he handed it over that they were encour
aged to proceed, and they next demanded
his coat and boots, and finally left him
with nothing but his pants, socks and
shirt. One of them then said that they
were going to kill him, and the old man
started oft on a run, screaming at every
jump, and did not stop until he reached
his home on Russell street. He was so
thoroughly frightened that he jabbered
away like an idiot, and so exhausted that
he soon fainted away. It is said that the
occurrence has deprived him of his rea
son, and that he cowers in a dark corner
and shrieks and screams like one fearing
some great peril. The young men became
frightened when they saw what their fun
resulted in, and gave a boy named Charles
Harper two shillings to take the old man's
clothes home. This boy was sitting on a
fence about five rods from the parties
while they were demanding Sotisky's
elothes, and he says they were laughing
and joking all the time, and that he readily
understood them to be in fun but the
affair may be something more serious to
them. The old man's friends were con
sulting with the police yesterday, and if
warrants have not been issued they will
be to-day. Grief is employed at the Junc
tion, and Scott is said to be a brakeman
on a freight train on the Great Western
Road.—Detroit Free Press.
Difficult to Find.
The most difficult thing to reach is a
woman's pocket. This is especially the
case if the dress is hung up in a closet,
and the man is in a hurry. We think we
are safe in saying that he always is in a
hurry on such an occasion. The owner
of the dress is in the sitting room serenely
engrossed in a book. Having told him
that the article which he is in quest of is
in her dress pocket in the closet she has
discharged her whole duty in the matter,
and can afford to feel serene. He goes at
the task with a dim consciousness that he
has been there before, but says nothing.
On opening the closet door and finding
himself confronted with a number of
dresses, all turned inside out, and pre
senting a most formidable front, he has
tens back to ask "Which dress?" and be
ing told the brown one, and also asked if
she has so many dresses that there need be
any great effort to find the right one, he
returns to the closet with alacrity, and
soon has his hands on the brown dress.
It is inside out like the rest—a fact he
does not notice, however, until he has
made several ineffectual attempts to get
his band into it. Then he turns it around
very carefully and passes over the pocket
several times without being aware of it.
A nervous moving of his hands and an
appearance of perspiration on his fore
head are perceptible. He now dives one
hand in at the back, and, feeling around,
finds a place and proceeds to explore it,
when he discovers that he is following up
thei nside of a lining. The nervousness
increases, also the perspiration. He
twitches the dress on the hook, and sud
denly the pocket, white, plump and ex
asperating, comes to view. Then he sighs
the relief he feels, and is mentally grate
ful he did not allow himself to use any
offensive expressions. It is all right now.
There is the pocket in plain view—not the
inside, but the outside—and all he has to
do is to put his hand right around in the
inside and take out the article. That
is all. He can't help but smile to think
how near he was to getting mad.
Then he puts his hand around
to the other side. He does not
feel the opening. He pushes a little fur
ther—now he has got it—he shoves the
hand down, and is very much surprised
to see it appear opposite his knees. He
had made a mistake. He tries again
again he feels the entrance and glides
down it only to appear again as before.
This makes him open his eyes and
straighten his face. He feels of the out
side of the pocket, pinches it curiously,
lifts it up, shakes it, and after peering
closely about the roots of it he says By
Gracious!" and commences again. He
does it calmly this time, because hurrying
only makes matters worse. He holds up
breadth after breadth, goes over them
carefully, gets his hand first into a lining,
then into the a?r again (where it always
surprises him when it appears), and finally
into a pocket, and is about to cry out
with triumph, when he discovers that it is
the pocket to another dress. He is mad
now the closet air almost stifles him he
is so nervous he can hardly contain him
self, and the pocket looks at him so ex
asperatingly that he .cannot help but
plug" it with his clenched fist, and im
mediately does it. Being somewhat re
lieved by this performance he has a
chance to look about him, and sees that
he has put his foot through a band-box
and into the crown of his wife's bonnet
has broken the brim to his Panama hat
which was hanging in the same closet,
and torn about a yard of bugle trimming
from anew cloak. As all this trouble is
due directly to his wife's infatuation in
hanging up her dresses inside out, he im
mediately starts alter her, and, impetuously
urging her to the closet, excitedly and
almost profanely intimates his doubts of
there being a pocket in the dress, any
way. The cause of the unhappy disaster
quietly inserts her hand inside the robe,
and directly brings it forth with the
sought-for article in its clasp. He doesn't
know why, but this makes him madder
than anything else.—Danbury News.
Alfred and Alexandrowna.
A LONDON correspondent writes:
The Duke an* Duchess of Edinburgh
have been endowed with an income some
thing like $200,000 a year. They are to
have at least two magnificent residences
in England—one, Clarence House, in
town, and another, not I believe fully de
cided on yet, in the country. Besides,
they will have two establishments at St.
Petersburg, when they choose to visit that
frigid native clime of the Duchess Marie.
This is leaving out of account the freedom
they will be able to make of Windsor and
Buckingham Palace, and Osborne and
Balmoral and Marlborough House and
Sandringham, the residences of Alfred's
royal mother and brother. And what,
then, will be their life? One or two
ladies of noble birth will be attached to
them as ladies and gentlemen in waiting,
equerries and high social attendants.
They will have stables, with an ample
choice of equine flesh for every imagina
ble purpose of pleasure. Their chariots,
coupes, dog carts, cabriolets, pony car
riages will enable then to enjoy every
variety of comfortable and showy driv
ings. They may go where they list, lor
the greatest nobles will be only too glad to
receive them chez eux, and the royal boxes
at theatres and opera and the best palaces
on the grand staDd of the turf will be at
their very good service. If they want to
be talked about and cheered, they have
only to take a turn in Rotten Row of a
morning, or go to the infinite variety of
'public occasions' which are always
turning up, and where royalty is always
in lively demand, distribute prizes and
open hospitals, preside at charitable
meetings and make their appearance in
pauper fairs. But if they prefer quiet
luxury they may retire and remain in their
cosily-elegant town or country nests, with
every amusement which the art of man
has devised within their reach, and with
full power to change the conditions of
their pleasures as they will."
The Gorilla.
The gorilla iz a citizen of Western Af
They are about five foot in hight, and
hav got a wuss temper than a fish
I never saw but one gorilla, and he waz
not filled with lite, but waz stuft with
I don't never want to see another it
weakens mi respekt for mi ansesstors to
look at them.
They are a four-legged quadruped, and
kan walk horizontal or purpendikular
just az they pleaze.
When they do walk uprite, they are the
worst looking relashuns we hav.
They liv alone, and don't congregate
like other brutes, and are more terrible in
a ruff and tumble file than enny animal
that livs.
I hav allwuss wondered whi sum one
didn't import one into this kuntry asd
match him for 2 thousand dollars to fite
in a ring.
I think one gorilla would take all the
consait out ov our shoulder-hitters.
If a fite ov this kind ever duz take place,
I shall attend it, mutch az I am oppozed
to ring battles, and shall bet mi currency
on the gorilla.
May the best man win.
The gorilla haz a good appetight and a
square digestion, and will eat ennything
he can git a chance at, from a nigger to
an anakondy.
Theze festiv children ov Africk's sunny
land are kivered all over with coarse blak
hair and rezemble humanity in menny re
spekts, but taken az a whole they are the
most revolting wretches to look at, or try
to luv, that haz ever appeared on the
stage ov ackshun thus tar.
The gorilla iz no doubt good for sum
thing, but what that iz I kant tell, nor
don't want to know.
They are dreadful strong kritters, and
kan carry an elephant off on their baks,
or the elephant carry them off—I forgit
which way it iz now.—N. Y. Weekly.
—The pneumatic tube in London ex
tends from Euston square to the Post
office, a distance of 4,738 yards. The ma
chinery for operating the line is at Hol
born, which is about one-third of the
distance from the Postoffice to Euston.
The tube is five feet wide and four feet
six inches high. The wagons are ten feet
long, and constructed to fit the tube
closely by means of an india-rubber
flange, and so form a sort of piston, upon
which the air may act to the greatest ad
vantage. The machinery consists of an
engine having two twenty-four-inch cylin
ders, with twenty inches stroke. The fan
is twenty-two feet six inches in diameter,
and makes two revolutions for each stroke
of the engine. The trains are drawn from
the extremities of the line by exhaustion,
and prop elled thereto by compression.
—The total indebtedness of Cleveland
is $4,272,000, and her tax rate $3-40.

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