I(> wa C ou ill v 1 )emoerat.
\ !; 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
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
• 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
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
“ 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
"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
" 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
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
At first the youth refused to accept
so much, for lie knew his unvvorthi
ness, hut the merchant simply answered
" 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
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
’’ (’harles." he said, " you know Wi<b >v\
“ 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
From that time Charles Aubrey went
cm nobly and truly in the path he had
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
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
'• 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
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
"A ha so you’ve found him. have!
you. Alary " he -.aid. in a happy,joyous j
" 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
With these wonts the lather left the
"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
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
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
( 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
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
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
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
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
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
Professor: Imagine my head to he
the earth; when the sun is directly over
my head its inhabitants know it is
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
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
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
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
“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
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
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
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