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I(> wa C ou ill v 1 )emoerat.
•/ VOL. XII. ir. \ !; EV K KIE ' (l hevomt our uiulil of darkle in no morn fiin vi r UrijlU: If from out tin- (tarkiio* comes no rav >i ptrlot iisht; Shull wo aro 0111 wax more drain, jin our ihoudiis amt reason I v >" -.hall wo Miho tho problem truly. What wi are. amt mo to be? If wo know that itoatti would llill-h. Kiul tltostrife annul the pain; If from out this ourtltlv snuggli' Cnmoii no thoi _;bt of future iram Would we wastt the day In wisUun;. Amt upon our set rows brood': Would there be within the vanguard Leaders that are true and itood ' 1! hovi.rid Ibis vale there lietb Mo lung but the eaithly tomb ; ff within tin' darkened future We will sink to endless doom; A euld we care to form those friendships V> hick now make our life so dear : Would these few short hours repay ip If all love-lies ended here; If beyond this day’s rough journey We shall meet our loved no mon , If with those our souls have cherished We shall mingle nevermore: Would the 1 fe he wot 111 the livim-. If Itevond life's little span (here was not Mteh perfect rvthm In Love’s every littir plan? Let ns. then, take tip life’s burden Taking hitter with Ihe sweet; (n the end w all shall tlml that Nature'.- plans are all eoinpleL , A ml our souls from out the shadow Sh II emerge in perfect light. To find there's hut one tied above in. And he dooth n l things right TUB I,AM SIXI’KNTH. ft was ti chill, bleak moming in No umber Unit Charlob Aubrey emerged rom an old shed where he hud passed ! he last part of the night under a pile of ■beep skins. Ah young Aubrey stood there now his lips wore parched, and his limbs shook as though with the palsy. Ho mechan ically placed his hand in his pocket md took therefrom u sixpence. He searched further—felt in every pocket— hut ho could find no more That single sixpence was the last of his for tune. • Ah, Charley, Charley," he mur mured to himself. you've run your aeo. Now where are the friends who iave long hung about you? One ;voor sixpence ! It w ill buy me one glu-- of grog to allay my burning thirst. Oh, would to Hod it would buy me one true Viend 1" He raised his eye- and beheld an old woman with bended back, who canto •ottering on slowly and In mblingly. Her garments were turn and tattered, vnd th> thin gray hair hung matted md uncoined. i>he stopped when -he came to the spot where the youth stood, and leaned heavily upon'’her Half. “ Charity, good sir," she said in hoars*' md tremulous tones. “Hive me whete vith to purchase a single meal, and 1 11 *sk Got! to bit's,-, thee.” “By my life, good woman, you tire the .no I have been wishing for. Here, it is *1! I have it is my last sixpence 1 Take t. I have only wished that it could buy me one true friend.” “ But what would come of that while vou continued to curse yourself?" The youth started, but he spoke not. ‘ If you would love me for a friend, vill vou listen to me as a friend ?’’ ‘ Listen? Vo." ■■ Then let this lie your lowest vale of ife," said the woman, with startling -olenmity. “Turn now anil go up hill, fid up, up, until you have reached the sunshine once more. I knew your mother, Diaries Aubrey, ami I remem ber well how kind she was. Oh,did she >vor think that her well beloved son would 'ink so low | Stop, stop," groaned the unhappy vouth. “Oh. who shall give me the first ift to regain all I have lost"" “ I will," ■You' Who an you? You say you ;nrw inv mother. Who are you?" •Never mind. Suffice it for you to know that 1 nutlVred a> deeply as you verdid. I know what it i- to sulfer. I -ay I can give you tin tir-t lift. I mean Av that 1 can show yon the way. Follow mv counsel, and you may yet recover all that you have lost." “N' no, not all. < >h, there i- me loss I can never make tip I" and as he spoke he bowed his head and covered his face w itii his hands. Ixt no such feelings be with you tow. First resolve that you will turn from the evil which lias brought you low: You know what it is as well as T do. <an you do this?" ■ Are 1 find done it ore you came Then take the m-xt step. Cos and vin a friend who can help you further. ■ lo to Amos Williams, and " No, no. not there, oh. not there." uterrupted < 'baric*. ■ Cos to his store and freely confess to him till vottr fault.-.' resumed the kind iid woman, without -e. iumg to notice •‘ne interruption. " I el! him all and ask tint to trust vihi once more. No, no. I’ dare not go to him ' •Hut :i'ti n. I heard Mr. William' e,v witi hi' own lit- that he would help vou if la- emtld : that h< would give you hi- hand if you would only help Your-* If." „ ■ Ihd ;-s s.iv that h utt< r. and nam *. •n great earn* -tm--. Hedid. And now. Charles Aubrey. a.-'ured that you have not 10-t vervthing. Let people know that you mea arisi and be a man. and all MINERAL POINT, WTS., FRIDAY, FEBRUARY S, IS7S. wh<*se good will is wi'rlh having will give you tluir hand-. G> to Aunv- Willinm- first ’ ' I will go." ■ Then give me the sixpence.’ Amos Williams slootl at the gfi .it de.-k in hts ev'imting-room and he was alone. While he thus stood, easting up a col umn of figures on a page of utte of the ledgers, the door was opened and Charles Aubrey entered. He was still pale and haggard, and looked as he did when w ( -aw hint two hours ago. Tho merchant started hack with an utterance of pain and surprise as he reeogni/ed in the miserable form before hint tho one*' happy and beloved youth whom hi de lighted to honor. "Charles." he uttered, as -oon as he could command his speech," why have you com* here ?" •’ Mr. Williams." spoke the hoy. in a choking voice, " 1 have come to to tell you that my course of wickedness i run, ami from this moment 1 am Here he stopped. He hesitated a moment, and then his feelings over came him. and. bowing his head, he hurst inti) tears, and sob-, loud and deep, broke from bis lips. The mer chant was deeply aM’eeled, and with the warm tears gathering quickly in his own eyes he started forward and plan 1 his hand on the poor hoy's head. '• Charles," he said, in a tremulous and eager voice, “ have you resolved to be a man "With God’s help, 1 will be a man once more." was lb*' y- utb’s reply. “ Is your money all gone?" " Yes, sir. This morning I had just a solitary sixpence left, and that 1 gave to a poor old woman, who hade me come to yon." " Aye. 1 know her. She is an unfor tunate creature, and has suffered much. 1 bade her, if she saw you, and you were east down and repentant, to send you to me. for 1 heard yesterday that yon were at the foot of the precipice. Now, if you are determined, you shall not want for help." In eager, broken, sobbing sentences, Charles poured out his thanks and staled the resolution h*' had taken. “ And now," said Mr William-, after the matter had been talked over some, "we must, find a place where you can recruit your strength a little before you try to work. There is my brother, who owns a farm at M . He would be glad to have you come there and stop awhile: and when you fully recover your waste*! strength yon shall have a place here." At first the youth refused to accept so much, for lie knew his unvvorthi ness, hut the merchant simply answered him : " Von can pay me for all thi> if yon choose, so yon need not feel delicate concerning it ; and as for your nnvvor thiuess when the k>-t ones of earth are not worth redeeming, then some other standard of worth must he re garded than that simple on*' which Jesus of Nazareth gave to hi- fol lowers.” So it was settled that (-barley .should go out into the country ami remain for a time. He found Mr. Williams, the brother, ready and happy to receive him, and there he soon began to regain [his health and spirits. In two weeks he was .as strong as ever, and at the end of one month the marks of dissipation had all left his lace. Then he returned to town and entered the store. Amos Williams gave him a lucrative --t;ili<n. and bade him remember nothing of the nast save the one great lesson he had learned. ’’ (’harles." he said, " you know Wi<b >v\ Swan ?” “ Yes, sir. *• Well, I hav" < ngagi and board for you there. I hone the arrangement will suit ! y on." *• Ye-, -ir.* returned the youth, with emotion. From that time Charles Aubrey went cm nobly and truly in the path he had marked out. Little did (."nark’s Aubrey know how closely he had been watched. Amos Williams knew his every movement, even I" tin prayers which V.e poured I forth in llie privacy of Ids own apart ment. rims passed away three months, and at the < ml of that time Mr. Williams called the young man into the counting room one evening, after the rest of the people had gon*. *• Well, Charles," tho merchant began, " how would you hk<- to change ym boarding place There was something in the look and tone of the man a- he spoke these word* that made the youth -'art. The blood rushed to hi- face, and anon he turned pale. '• If will would like.” the merchant resumed, in the same low. strange lone, "vou may come and board with ini'. I 1 will not deceive you. (.'barkl util I could know that you Would entirely n form, I dared not carry you n, my hou-e. But lam satisfied now, lhav< not for a moment doubted you, but I would prove you, Ami now, if you please, you may inform Mr-, -wan that you -hall hoard with h* rno mo* '. ,-h* will not b* di-apmiinted. f>>r I have - poked her on the suhj* ct,’ With th*-i words Mr. William- left the store, and a* - sm a.-Cliiirk -*oukl recover from the strange emotion- that had almost overpowered him, lx- called for the porter to eome and lock up, and then having locked up the great -ale. he took hi- departure. ihi th,■ next morning lu came to the -tore, and when his employer came, he informed him that lu had given his no tice to Mr-. Swan. " \ cry well," return*'*! th* nieiehant ; "this evening. t!i'n, you will go home with me." Fuelling came, and Charles Aubrey aeeompank and his old friend liot.,e. Tea was ready, th** rest of the family having eaten an hour before. A Her tea I harles w a- conducted to the sitting-room, where Mr. Williams informed him he could amuse himself by reading. Charles sat down there anil hi- cm plover went out. but he could not read. He -at there, when the door wa- slowly opened, and a female appeared within the apartment. With a quick step he -prang forward, turn without a word lu* caught llu* fair girl to Ir.s Im-uin. " Mary," he uttered, as he ga/ed into the sparkling eyes of the fair being who —till clung fondly to him, *' you still love nit yon forgive me all and trust me once more ?" "Yes," she m>mmured; and ere she could speak further her father entered I the room. "A ha so you’ve found him. have! you. Alary " he -.aid. in a happy,joyous j ione. " Mr. William-, uttered Chari*'-, -till holding Mary by the hand and speaking with ilillienlty . " 1 hope I'm not de reived. O, you have not brought me here to kill me! Vou cannot have passed this cup to my lips only to dash it away again !' "Of course not." returned Air, Wil Hums. " But you must know the whole truth, and for fear my child may not tell you all, I’ll tell you myself. This noble girl has never ceased to luv e you, and when you were the lowest down she loved you the most. She came to me and asked mo if she might save y ou if she could. 1 could not (ell her nay, and sh*> went at the work. She has still ered much, and, Charles, it remains with you to deride whether her future •dial! he one of happiness or not, She knew that you were down, that your money was all gone, and that your false triends had forsak* n you. Then her love for yon grew bold ami strong. She wondered if you would repulse her. She knew not what migH be your b'et liiil's. and to save her-.-It (lie pa ill of a direct i-.|.* 1 1 . from you,-lie assumed a. disguise, so that -lie might approach you without being known, and get some idea of your feeling- and save you if she could. I think she lias done well. At any rate she ha- r* gained you to herself, and it must now be your own fault if tin silken tie is loosed again." With these wonts the lather left the apartment. "Aon. Mary'; Yon in disguise be queried, as soon it* be could speak. "Aye, dear Charles, and yon know th*' reason why I did t. Here do yon remember it? And as she spoke she took from her bosom a small silken purse and showed him therein a six pence. Charles recognized it in an instant. "Oh!" he cried, as lie pressed the noble girl to his bosom. " What can I say? Mary Mary my own heart's truest and dearest love let my life in the year-to eome tell my gratitude. O, my all of lif*• is yours, and my la i breath shall bear your name in grab tilde to Hod !" And ('hark - Aubrey never forgot Ins promise. Will, this noble companion by his fide be travi led up the hill, and in his path the Mowers of life grew thick and fragrant. I '|>oii the wall of hi- sitting room there hang- a picture. It is a sph mini painting of the prodigal son's ret urn. I'poll tlie face of a heavy gilt frame vi-ilofs observe a small blemish, but | widen upon elo.-er examination proves :to boa small silver coin, Our readers in ed not be told why that bit of metal i- (bn- carefully preserved. The Bight Time. Ki proof i* ll is( be administered g* litly, if at all. If you are annoyed and vexed at people, just remember it is not the right time to -peak. Clo-e your mouth, shut your teeth together firmly, and it will save yi u many a useless and una vailing n gret. and many a him r enemy. If you happen to feel a little ero— and who aimng ns lines not at some time or other do not -* lei t that season for reproving your noisy household think. One word spoken in pa-simi will make a sear that a summer of smiles can hardly heal over. If you an a wife, never tea-e your husband, when he comes home, weary from hi- dav's hu-ine--. It i- not the rigid time. l>o not a-k him for ex oen-iv e out lays when lie lias be* n talking about haul time*. It i-, most assuredly, tin* wrong time. If be ha entered upon an undertaking again-l your advice, do not seize on the moment of it- failure* to say. I told you-o' lu fact, u is never tin-rigid time for these fuur mono-yllahkoh! if pcopk only knew how to discrimi nate between the right time and Hie wrong time, there would h< less dom* -- lie unhappiness, le-s silent sorrow, and 1* estrang* mciit of the heart. Lxperi* n< ■ may Ik? a dear lear n* r. but she i.-n't any dearer than a p etty schoolman; ( A F IT IH If. It m ilde L\|i* ri*'ii*a> of a rarly who Went to the National Park —One tail) and One little birl in (lie Niinnher—-The story fold In a sur vivor. Mll\\ Mi k*C VAN' I i-l August a parly of tourists set out fiom Helena. Montana, to make a ’ trip into the National I'.u k of Wyoming I’errilory lying south of them. The (company consisted of nine s ml-, there being two among them of the gentler -ex Ida Carpenter, aged thirteen years, j and her married si-ler, Air-. Cowan.! This parly, particularly tlit- feminine portion of it, lias become historical since that fateful pleasure bin, and with the view of an authentic narration for the readers ot the A, r.g touching the circumstances which rendered them so, a reporter ha- interviewed Air, Frank IV Carpentei who accompanied these ladies, hi-sisters, and who shares th*' distinction which ha- fallen on them. Air. (’atpetii* ri- man of dd, of me dium height, intelligent countenance, good physique, modest mannei-. and is inclined, evidently, to reticence. He lia- been employed by the government in the assay otliee in Helena but has been familiar with Indians all ids life, Notwithstanding the temptation of Ids situation lie dot's not y iekl to Ihe Texas Jack style of dress, oratory or ehevelnre. The reporter was somewhat disappoint ed at the iksenei'of these features for th*'sensational in action or speech is expected in such eases. Air. Carpenter relates that on a eer lain Thursday morning in August last, the party having determined to start hack for Helena, awoke t<> I'md three Indian pickets approaching them. This trio brought information that Chief Joseph, with fa in Indians, was in camp half a mile distant and on the only road to Helena. A subordinate chief re joicing in th<- name of “ Poker Joe" or “White Bird," took possession of the little party of nine. Joe seems |o have been well disposed, for on bis return from interviewing Joseph, the chief, he told the parly, after some delay , that it could go its way, hut that he would not be resiKjnsit'le for the action of had Indians in hi- bano. * e.eeinri suugln counsel from one Shively , u (nipper, compelled by White Bird toaet as a guide. Shively had a simple philosophy to the elleel that it didn't matter much when or how a man died, and in a tight place always left out Hus insignificant factor in the menial calculation which determined his aelion. Carpenter and ids companions struck out into the neighboring timber. Poker Joe's " had Indian.-" soon hemmed them in tin re. There were some fifty of them under a villainousliiokiii;' horse thief chief. This select crew hovered alsiiit th* in apparently procrastinating th*’ contemplated sacrifice, enjoying it in anticipation and unwilling lo lire, lint as Indian gennily, like the mon* civili/tsl article, has found no way of keeping pi** and eating it too. a well aimed shot came at last, paralyzed one of Cowan’s legs, and gave Ihe signal for an impartial hntehei y. The little horse thief ehiel raised his gnu at the iiiofleii sive looking gentleman from whom this i account was gleaned, hut being a dis eiplined ami well regulated Indian he took <ii lihi rate and careful aim. It would seem as if all further eommmii cation with luwspapei reporters were at an end for Mr. Carpenter: It would i seem unlikely at least, that only a few [weeks thereafter he would be exni’ess : mg tin' warmest sentiments of friend ! ship for this aboriginal "etiss," who! | (lien anil then* had Ihe drop on him. j Itul the exeessivi 1 1 el ihe rat ion of the | little eld* f gave an opporlunilv for the! play of imagination. Air. C.irpeulerj dovi down, so to speak, into hi* inner! ■ consciousness ami rutin' up with u| liiipny thought. I knew," stud this j quiet man, " that these Indians hail hud ('atholii mi-sionaries among them, and i ihe eireiimstiieees were so solemn Hull I fell warranted in making Hie sign of I the ero,— rather ostentaeionsly.” This' | wa- what saved Mr. Frank Carpenter i from torture and his (wo sisters from I outrage. In laiignag* more expressive l than refined, it was a pious dodge width lie unreeled " ju-l fora fiver.” To make a long story short, Airs. Cowan, her sister Ida ami Mr. Carpenter were taken to tin main body of In i dians. While Bird resisted several ap peal- from his chief men looking to the eMahli-hmenl of immediate dome-lie reliUions with the ladies, and the bro*h er succeeded in mounting guard over his sisters that night. The next morn ing there was an alarm of approaching 'soldiers, and it became necessary at one** to establish Hi* : Vitus of Hie cap tive-, A council wa-* held, and the chi* f in-, -ti and on permitting them to depart The poor woman, whose lu haud had b* en butchered at her side on tin previous day. and Ironi whose body the savages tore her from by main force, the exhausted little girl and their surviving brother were present. They watched with infinite agony the reception ot rejections of the pipe which when smoked is the indica tion of ascent. The deliberation resul ted in their being taken across the Yel lowstone river by Poker Joe in person. He gave Mr-. Cowan a piece of bread which vva* the only nourishment these , three human beings received from 1 I’huisday night till ll' following Sun i dav night ;it I** o'clock. Tlu' humane I chief hade them good l*> r, pointed out ilu' trail to Ikvseinan. 100 mil*'.** distant, provided llu'in with two ponies and j agreed to m\ > tln<iu a halt' bonis start of m pursuing Indians Hut here Min Cowan* mind seemed to give way mo mentanlv, and she insisted on going to llir sjiv>t where her linshaud had hri'n killed, and remaining w ith him. Met brother whom no ealamilv seems to have overhome. Mieeeeded however, hy elnh argument in propelling the ponies sixty live miles toward Ikvseman Indore morning. lie also eluded the renegade Indians who pursued them alter the half hour of grace had expired and who met an unsuspecting party of ten whites the same nignt and murdered them all t>n Snndav mornine, 1 nut. Schofield of the Montana militia and live cavalry men on a seoul ran on to this forlorn hut heroie little trio, lie cave them the he*l he had and sent tnem on their homeward wav Her* 1 ends the eritieal period ol then expcri: nee, Mrs. Cowan's luishand who though shot in (he forehead and through both legs and then had a large roek thrown on his skull to insure certain death, revived and crawled twelve miles to where he was rescued hy I', S. troops. Mr. ('ovvan and his wife have now settlml down m Iv’adershurg, and discourage pie nie parties to the geysers of the Na tional I’ark. In conclusion it is proper to stale that both Mr. Cowan and Mr. Carpenter am W iseonsin men the former mixing re sided in Uipon and the latter at Black Knrth where Ids uncle David I>. Istgun is living. Iltiiiior. A man m vi'i uses his lluimh nail fm a screwdriver hut once. Since the discovery of the petroleum in the lllaek 11 ills everybody Inis gone to digging wells. Kvery tinu> a minor puts tiis shovel iu the ground he strikes soil. Professor: Imagine my head to he the earth; when the sun is directly over my head its inhabitants know it is nr too Since the “Sweet Singer of Michigan" has laiinmeuecU 1... Davis hasn't been heard from. Can it he possible In l she it can C It’s too horrihle to think of. Ollieer: What thoughts arise iu your mind when yon see your country's llag living. Private That the wind is Mow ing. Maueli Chnnek, Pa., now eotues forth ami demands the medal. It has a man who is the father of thirty children lie is looking foi anew territory to rent. If the proverbial early bird was to purchase a ipiai t of chestnuts, it might i/aleh lots of worms and not get un earlier than noon, either. In Virginia, when a young lady de dim s an oiler to convey her home, the lover asks permission to sit on a fence and see her go hy. Twin ever 1 1>itm: from rlilldliootlV hour NVVvf HtM'H our ftuul'fl liojiih ilmiy i’ll*- lire wciil out. I li#f lint I•• i h hmi r \\ r nn l linvt' huckwtiuilt rttkea to-(111/ . “This is (he maiden all forlorn," who often wished she had ne'er been Imrn, and turned up her nose in petulant scorn at the girl who last season's hat had worn. li’ltmiu l,t nisi.A ion "Wind siii You lake me for one who can he hrih ed ? on insult my sense of honor hut in ease I f willy in tr k'K'li a muri, hovr miieli would you give me?” Anew song is entitled, "Trust Me, Darling, I’ll he True." That's what they all say. Hut don’t trust him on a short aeipiaiiilanee. The prohahili lies are that he has n wife in anotlo i t- wn. “The vv icked stand in slippery pine os," hut for a perfect pielnre of reckless insecurity, yon want to look at a fright clad woman trying to stand on a camp stool to keep out of the way of n mouse. Sciential" say that the age ol iron in approaching its ••lose, and that steel will eventually lake its place. The i scientific gentlemen are a little slow; we have been in the midst of tin* age of steal for some time. St, l/inis is to have a ten (eet-liigh statue of Shak-peare. The City Fathers merely asked the sculptor if tin! do i eased Shak-peare was a Chicago man, 1 and when he said no, they replied, “ All right; si nip the old stat." It is a single faet’ihal a girl who when she is alone can | nt her hands on the top rail of a fence and skip over liko a iamb at play, will, if her bean is along, give him as much trouble in helping In r over as though she was a rheumatic locomotive. Many a man w ill sit on the river hank and wait patiently two hours for a idle hie, and think it fun, who will scold his wife, pinch his children and introduce a young volcano into his household, if hi* ims to wail live minutes for ids break fast. In spite of this fact, Mr. Beecher 'says he doesn't Ilelievo in eternal pun ishment! ISO. &5.