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E 'A., ♦MW Per Annum, _• <« Hemal Vigilance is the Price of Liberty.” In Advance. -~ ----K INC WOOD, UKKSTON COUNTY. W.YAA^ATURDAY. SEPTEMBER 8.1877. NUMBKK 1. tmi; i *t'ih<iNii»:i» i.trrTt.H. .. . Nu tt PlUDWUOU. DkakJ**xy; r “ ' rrarbwl here tl»ls punning, I <*iu I'.tker. Not hsiiisnl ami f ; *'** tom see that, layplty at your warning, I he end of our Jouruey is nigh. Hie redakiM—'#tw-ane w..rih a meniion, '*"i» « worry ahyol iue, I prat— i 1 ■*' •• show II IIS (to little all* HI |a ^ - i onlound Ihriii! —along on our way. •4 Poor Neil's got a ball In the idioulder_ Another one just graced miv aide- — It'll pshaw' ere ae're Imlf a day older W «• II W at tin* « n«l of our riur. 44 We’re camped here for breakfast. Tolu’s splitting Koine kindling wood, oil in tlie pine., And astridea dead cedar I'm sitting To limit ily |k*ii you tbw-M* line*. i4 A courier from BNuIwwcmI—we i*M him Ju-Ht now with a mail for the Stair*. (Ah. Jenny, Til never fnrvrt him).*, for this most obligingly ‘rails. o„ t too. the iiilners are earning » V 'odlao a day, every man. tl illoa here comes Tom -he’s retcining_ And running as lust as he can. 4* It’s nothing. I guess; he la only At one of his practical " hang' And sharp through that solitude lonely, The crack of Kloux rirte shnta rang. And as the dire volley came Mended tN 1th echo from cannon uml pass, The letter to Jenny was ended— It's writer lay dead on the grass. _ \ mibmliii drama* ''hat a sigh was that! not noisy, hut profound ami eloquent at once of an old griet and a fresh jierplcxitv. Boh i Withers, the gentleman in his shirt ' sleeves In-fore the mirror, had heaved that sigh every night for ten years : simultaneously with the act of rcmov- ; ing from his head the line chestnut wig ; which conceals the almost complete des- ' ti tut ion ol the natural covering. The grief is therefore an old one, but an ele- ] ment of perplexity has mingled with I this nightly sigh more lately—namely, since having wooed and won Angie Me Lane in his wig, he has lH*en screwing up his courage to the point of revealing to her that it is a wig, as he feels in fairness he ought to do. He has just put it off, and put it off, never finding just the right opportunity for the confession, until now the wedding is hut a month off, and the task seems harder, more iin* j possible, than ever. He is at present spending a couple of days at the house of the Me Lancs in the country, with a view of getting Acquainted with the family. For the sake of enjoying un alloyed the pleasure of Angie’s society for this short time, he has com promised with his conscience by resolving at once on ’caving to write to her and tell the \ truth, aiul by no means to procrastinate \ fyrther. Meantime the process of getting ac quainted with the family docs not irct on very prosperously. Bob is a poor match from a parental |>oint of view, and a hitter disappointment to the Mc I'Hites. Nothing hut Angie’s resolute character could have extorted the grudg ing consent which their engagement had at length’received. The family consisted, besides Angie, of her father and mother, and two brothers, John and (ieorge. Mr. Me Lane kept his room, lieing a con firmed invalid. John, strong-willed and arrogant in temper, ruled the family with a rod of iron—(ieorge lieing kinder tompered, but of much less strength of character. Angie was the only member of the family whom John could not rule, and she had carried the |Miint of her en gagement against his hitter opjiosition. Mrs. McLanc was a mere shuttlecock lie tween John and Angie, receiving an impulse from one which lasted until the other got hold of her. John had ac cepted the engagement with exceedingly bad grace, and made scarcely a decent* pretense of concealing from Bob his con tempt and hostility, and his desire to find any pretext for forcing a quarrel. This was particularly unpleasant and demoralizing to Bob, because the injury to his own self-respect by the sense of the tacit deceit he was guilty of as to his wig left him unable to meet John’s overbearing insolence with the quiet dignity he would have liked to assume. After going to lied he lay awake a couple of hours thinking over these em barrassing circumstances, and the delight ful fact of Angie's love, to which they were offsets. In the course of his toss ings he liecame aware that his seal ring was noton his finger, ami instantly rc incmltcred that, after using it for n* for feit in a parlor game that evening, he had forgotten to replace it. Vexation at his carelessness instantly made him tviiln u tvul/n Tlis. rtnif *»«■««# lvA a 1_ library table. If not, then he knew not where; and, if there, it might lie filched by a servant in the morning. Associa tions made it invaluable, ami he found himself so uneasy alnmt its safety that he could not sleep. Perhaps the liest thing he could do was to quietly step down stairs in his stockings without dis turbing anyltody, and make sure about it. lie knew that he could, even in the dark, steer his way straight to the ' library. In this sleepless, excited state I of flind the slight tinge of adventure in , hiM plan had an attraction. Jumping out of l»ed he put on apart of j his clothes, and, softly opening the door ' of his room, went across the hall and j down the -(airs to tho ground floor. It i was quite dark, hut he found his way ^easily, having a good topographic in- J stinct. From the lower hall he entered the dining room, and from that the ! library. The sea-ooal fire in the grate ! „ was still dickering brightly, iltumiuat- I - mg the sumptuously-furnished room ! with a faint, soft glow of peculiarly rich ctlc< t. ^ ^There on the table his ring glittered » eh the fitful firelight, and, as he slipped it on his finger, lie felicitated himself on ft is successful enterprise. The room was »*n charmingly cor* that he felt It Would he a sin not to Huger awhile. So, throw- ; ing himself m a «ofa before the grate he Jell into a delightful reverie. ; J list, there, in that, chair, Angie had sat during the evening, and there he ! pictured her again, finally going and, leaning over it in a care«*ing attitude fondly cheating himself. Over there ! had sat Mrs. Melons, and the chair hack at once transfixed him with two critical eyes, till he was fain to look away. The brothers were there-. „nd there. Boh chuckled with a loud sense of hurfuptitiouwies* »« he thought how ! they would stare could they see him now. Hie subtle pleasure of clandestine things is douhtles*. the exaggeration of the personality which takes phieeas the pressure of other minds i» withdrawn, lo pecsona of Boh's sensitive mental atmoaphere that pressure is painful when sueh minds are hostile, and often jrk some even when they are friendly, if not in jterfeet acconf. Si that now it was with a (sisitively voluptuous sciisa tiou that his personality expanded till it tilled and felt the whole room. The tire burned, and liuKly Hew the shuttles of his fancy, weaving ouce again tin-often varied' patterns of the future. Those shuttles had little leisure now-a-days, for all the well must be un raveled and rewoven, that through it all might run the golden thread of Angie’s love. How rarely did it light up the fabric, liefore so null and dark ! The bronze metal-clock sounded with a silvery tinkle at thchour of two, hut the sound fell ap|iarently unhei*de<r on the ear of the dreamer. It was a full minute liefore the impression reached his mind. I hen* are times when the thoughts throng so that each new sensation has to take its place in the cue and wait its turn to get attention. Then lie stirred and roused himself.emerging reluctantly from tin* wurpi. voluptuous atmosphere of imagination, as one leaves an enerv at ing hath. He had been lying thus a full hour, and it was high time to return to! bed. He left the library and started aeross the dining-room with a hasty step. Perhaps long gazing at the lire had dazzled fiis eyes, or {lorhap* his haste, together with an undue confidence in his skill in navigation by dead-reckon ing. rendered him lesseareful than when ho had come down. However that may he, a light stand which he had easily voided then, he now blundered fullv a pon. imuwuj- knows mat wncn one i stubs the t<k* in the dark, instead of do livering theldow when the toe is moving slowest, at the beginning, or at the end 1 of the step, it always hap|>cnsso that the toe trikes with the maximum inomcn- ! turn. So it was this time. If Boh had been kicking football he could not have made a nicer calculation of force, and the shock sent the stand completely over. ft would have made noise enough any how, but it must hap|K'n that on this stand the family silver was laid out for breakfast, and tlie clancor was similar to that of Apollo's silver now, that time be let fly at thotJrecian host l»cfore\rroy. Bub stood paralyzed with horror. X'en the anguish of a terribly stnblied too was forgotten in an overisiweriug sc use of the awful mess lie hail made, and the unimaginable consc«|itcuces that would at mice ensue. As the hideous clangor and clatter rang through the house shat tering its sacred silence, he shrank to gether and made himself small as if lie could impart a sympathetic shrinkage to the noise. The racket to his own ears was splitting enough, but lie fell, in ad dition, as if he heard it with the curaof all the family, and he wilted lie fore the conception of the feelings that were at that moment starting up in their niinds toward the unknown cause of it. Ilis first rational idea was to bolt for bis room, and gain it before any was fairly roused. But the shock had so scattered his wits that he could not at once recollect his bearings, and ho real ized, with indescribable sensations, that he was lost, lie consumed precious mo ments bumping himself all around the room Iteforo he found the right door. Ashe reached the*footof the staircase voices were audible almve, and lights wore gleaming down. Ilis retreat was cut off; he could not go back to bis room without being discovered, lie now distinguished the voice of Mrs. Lane in an agitated tone entreating somebody to l»e careful and not get shot, the gruff Voices of the brothers responding, and then their steps rapidly descending the stairs, should he go up and take the risk of a volley while announcing him self? It would make a pretty tableau. Presenting himself in such a guise and under such circumstances, what sort of a reception could he expect from John, who treated him w ith undisguised con tempt in the drawing-room, and whose study it was to place him at a disadvan tage? He might have hesitated longer, hut at this moment the voice of Angie, crying (low n to her brothers to In* care ful, decided him. He could not face her under such ter ribly false circumstances, and without his wdg. oil nil* mh)k place lar quicker Ilian l could write it. The glimmer of the de scending lamp already shone dimly in the hall, ami Boh frantically looked nlsxit him for a hiding place. But all the furniture stood tip too high from the floor, and the corners were distressingly hare, lie sprang into the dining-room, hut in the dark heenuld not see how the land lay, and hurried on into the library. 'The dying fire still shed a dim light around, and he eagerly canvassed the various possibilities of concealment which the room offered. Youthful ex perience in the game of hide-and-seek now stood him in good stead, and showed him at a glance the inutility as refuges of half a dozen places that would have deluded one less practiced hy the spacious hut too easily guessed shelter they af forded. Vainly seeking a safe refuge, he ran round the apartment like a rat in a trap. He already heard the brothers in the dining-room picking up the silver and wondering to find it all there, when, obeying a sudden inspiration, he clam bered up a lofty bookcase that ran across one end of the room, Arching al>ovc the dining-room door, and reaching within a few feet of the ceiling. In cold blood he never could have scaled it. I.yingat full length upon the top of the Issikcase with his hack to the wall, the bulge of him was still visible from the further part of the room, in case it should occur u» his pursuers to look so high. The latter now entered the library; and, peering over the edge of the l»ook ca*e, Boh recognized with singular sen- i sations the two gentlemen with whom he hail l»een quietly conversing a little earlier in the evening. Then they were arrayed in faultless evening dress, and their manner, although supercilious enough, was calm and |Kilished. Now he saw them half dressed, with disheveled hair-John carrying a student’s lamp in hUWfthand, and in his right an ugly looking cane-sword. with n Made pain fully naked, whileticorge held a revolver at tult cock. talking in a low tone, a.** they called out* another * attention to various spot* where possibly the burglar might !*e con cealed, they went slowly from corner to corner, prolung every recess with the sword, ami in an attitude of strained at tention to t very sound. There faces, grotesquely lit by the mingled lire ami the lamplight, showed a lieree hunterV, l<s*k that nia<ie Hohfairlv siek. Hcdid not dare t«* look at them long lest tin* magnetism of his gaze should at tract their involuntary attention. Nay. he even math* a frantii:effort not to think of them, from the fear that some physical current might have the same c licet-—for be l»el»eved strongly', tbough vaguely, in the mysteries of animal magnet ism, and had a notion that a js'rson sensitive to such influences might detect the presence of his victim by the very terror the lat ter had of him. lie could scarcely lndievo his fortune, when a moment later, the two brothers passed again iHMieath him hack into the dining-room. * From there they went on through the nsiius Itcyoml, and the soumlof their footsteps died away entirely. IVrhnps live minutes after, they re turned, that is, as far as the dining-room — and Hob gathered from their conversa tion that they had found one of tlie fast enings in the basement in a condition in dicating that the burglar might have es caped there, Mrs. Mcl.ane and Angie, having satis fied themselves that the coast was clear, descended to thcdiniug-i ooin, and a lively discussion of all aspect* M the problem ensued, which was highly edifying to Hob. I hen the conversation Ih'caiuc still more interesting, as it turned on himself. He heard Mrs. Me Lane saying: “lie must be a ban! sleeper, for I knocked several times on his door.” I hen one of the brothers grunted something contemptuously, and he hoard Angie’s voice excusing him on the ground that he must Is* tired after his long journey. T'MI ntiir juii lUUMimrrvwnPrO ill tin* library?” wiu. Mrs. Mil,a tie’s next question, at which a cold sweat started out on Hob’s fare, lie bad just begun to feel quite comfortable. John and (it*urge, however, declared that they had looked everywhere. “ Did you look under the sofa?” “ Behind the window curtains?” ‘In that dark corner by the ls»ok oaso?’’ asked the ladies in succession. Ingenious cruelty of fate! Kven A ngie was racking her brain to guess his hiding-place. What if it should Ik> she who hit upon it! Bob drew a breath of relief as John replied, with somo a«|»erity, to all these questions, that he had told them once that they looked everywhere. This silenced tlu-m, but Angie said, a moment after: “Just let me ask one mors question: Did you look on ton of the lmokoaso?” It seemed to Bob that be died then, and ciime to life again to bear John re ply, contemptuously: “ < >ver the bookcase? There’s no room there; and if there were, nolsidy hut a monkey could get up.” “There’s room enough,” |K>rsistcd Angie, “and I have often noticed, when sitting in the library, what a nice hiding place it would l>e. What if he should nr up there now, and hear what I’m say ing! ' she added in an agitated whisper. “ Nonsense!” Haiti John. “ Well, the re is no harm in looking anyway,” said Mrs. MrLane. “Come along, then,” grumbled John. “ You shall see for yourseIves.” At this Boh shut Ids eyes and turned his face to the wall. Thcnstrieh instinct is the human inMinct of despair, lit* tried to fly away from himself and leave his body there as a derelict. The cflort was desperate, and seemed alm<*>t suc cessful. But lie could not quite sever the connection, though his soul appeared to Ik- hovering over his body, only attached by a single thread—hut a thread which, alas! would not break. A moment after they all passed through the door directly beneath him, and. going to the other end of the- library, stood on tiptoe,and peered at his hiding place. There seemed to lie eyes in his back, which felt their scrutiny. But the lamp they carried did not suffice to bring out Iim figure clearly. “ I’m sure I see something,” said Angie, getting up on a chair. “ It’s only the shadow of the firelight.” replied John. • '•uni inr gas ann ici us make sure, said Airs. Ale Banc. George stood upon a chair under the chandelier and lit one of the hurners. An inarticulate ejaculation fell from every mouth. A human, figure was distinctly visible, reclining on the top of the bookcase, with his fare toward the wall. The ladies would have forthwith run away hut for the fact that one door of the room was directly beneath the Isiokcase, and the other close to it. l)|K>n Itoh’s paralyzed senses fell the sharp words of John: “ We’ve got you. f let down V1 lie did not move, tint at the summons his soul with inexpressible reluctance and disgust, began to return from the end of its floating thread, and reinhahit the qiurters for which it could not quite shake" If responsibility. “Get uii, or I’ll sh«s>t!” said George. “ <>h, don’t slnsit him I” cried Airs. Ale Banc, while Bob, still motionless, dimly ho|ied he would. ' Get up!’’ reiterated John; and he did get up. His own will was inactive, ami John s was tin1 force that moved his muscles, lie turned around mid set up, his legs dangling over the edge of the IsHikcase, and his wet, white wretched face blankly directed toward the group— a m«»st pitiable figure. “Jump down,” said John; “and if you try to escape you will get shot.” w>li let himself drop without regard to how he was to alight, and in consequence was severely bruised against a chair and the edge* of the Ixsikcasc. He st/xwl facing the group. His eyes mechanically sought Angies. What was his surprise not to jereeivc in her expression of mingled curionity and fright the slightest sign of recognition? A glance showed him that It was the same with the others. John and George evidently supposed they were dealing w ith an ordinary burglar, and the others were apparently quite as devoid of sus picion as to his identity, llis wig! lie had forgotten all about It. That ex-' plained their singular demeanor. > I lie l»ald man in stockings, grouser* and shirt, caught hiding in the library after an attempt on the silver, quite naturally failed to recall to their minds the youth of rather foppish attire I and luxuriant locks who bade them good night a few hours previous. As this fact ami its explanation broke U|m>ii Hob s mind he felt an immense sons*' of 1 relief, instantly followed hy a more poignant perception of the inextricable falsity and cruel absurdity of his iiocm tion. lie had little time to think it over and determine hi* heat course. John step|Hxl forward, and with the jH»int of his cane sword motioned him into a corner, thus leaving the way clear for the ladies, who at once hurried into the dining-room, throwing glances of fear and aversion ti|K>n Hob as they passed. Angie paused at the doorwav and asked: “ \Vhat are you going to do w ith the dreadful man?” Hoh even then was able to notice that , lie had never seen her -o ra\ishiuglv i beautitiil as now, with hi'r golden hair fulliup over her ih w hile her eves scintillated with excitement. She would have blushed to have been seen bv him in such an inidri** toilet, but. with an odd feeling of lieing double, he perceived that she now regarded him as she would have an animal. [ “(ieorge mid T will attend to him. I ! \ ou hud lietter go to ls-d,” replied | John to her question; nnd then lie sent (ieorge after some cord, meanwhile | quietlv standing in front of Bob with corked revolver. Had he scanned his prisoner closely, he might have detected something familiar in his lineaments, hut in careless contempt he took him in ! with a swooping glance as an average burglar, whose identity was a question for the poliee. Bob had not uttered a word. In the complex falsity of his jiositioii he could not indeed muster presence of mind to resolve on any course, hut regarded with a kind of fatuity the extraordinary direction events were taking. Rut when ! (ieorge returned with a ro|H>,and ordered him to put his hands behind him, lie said, in a tone so quiet that it surprised himself: “ Hold on, Mr. McLnne; this joke has gone too far. I am Robert Withers, at your service, and respectfully decline to la> considered in the light of a burglar any further.” < ieorge s jaw drop|ied with astonish-! ment, and John was scarcely less taken aback. “ Hanged if lie isn’t I” ejaculated the former, after a moment, in a tone of in- I credulous conviction, as ho recognized at once the voice and now the features i of Roh; “ blit where’s your hair?” Roh blushed painfully. “ I wear a w ig,” lie replied, “ and to night coming down stairs after you were all alicd to get my ring which I had left on the table here, I did not fully dress. j doing hack It was my luck to stumble! over that cursed stand in the other room!” “But what did you hide for?” asked John sharply. Roh just touched his bald head and replied : “ I heard the ladies up.” John pitched the revolver on the sofa and stood (tensive. Finally he said, with a sardonic smile: “ Mr. Withers, how do you propose to get out of this? Shall I call the ladies in and let you explain? They will •»res ently lie wanting to know what we have done with the burglar.” Roh made no reply. Already bitterly humiliated, he saw no way of avoiding indefinite nnd yet bitterer humiliations. John thought a few' minutes longer, and then he said: “Take a seat, Mr. Withers; I have a proposition to make.” 'I hey sat down. “ You are aware,” continued John, in ' the calmest, most iinficrtiirhahlc tone ! “that I don’t like your match with my ' sister, and have done my liest to break | it ofl. Rut she is an obstinate girl, and I had pretty much given up hope. These peculiar circumstances have most unex js'ctedly put you in my power, and I propose to make the utmost of my arivan tage. If I were to call in Angie now and introduce you, f feel tolerably well assured that it would lie the end rtf your matrimonial expectations in that quar ter. Still, you nave a chance for your life. I will call her if you say so?” And John rose. I* ‘»r (bid's sake don't let her come in j here!” groaned Hob, in abject panic. .lohn grinned, stepiied toward the door, and then turned hark irresolutely, ! muttering: ” Wonder if it wouldn't be the short est way out of it to rail her down?” Then, with a saving reflection upon the uncertainty of a woman's course under any given set of circumstances, he came , hack, and reseating himself opposite j Hob, said, with a sardonic smile: “Ho you don't like my little suggestion of giving you one more chance with Angie 7 On the whole, f think you are wi«e. The , other alternative is to leave the house at once, relinquish your engagement, j and never sec her again. Make your choice, ami asquieklvas convenient, for I m getting sleepy/’ ami he yawned j I lazily. Bob sat in an attitude of utter deice- ! tion, staring at the ashes of the fire, i which an hour ago had blazed as bright ly ! l as his own love-lit fancies. He was j completely demoralized and almost in- ' capable of thought or resolution. There was something so pitiable in Bob’* odd looking, dismantled figure, half-dressed, with that queer, white, hulhous head, dimmed, muck eyes, and expression of crushing shame and defeat, that it would have moved almost any one to compas sion. It did stir compunctions in drttrf,re, hut there was no mercy in , John s still, blue eye*. Two or three minutes passed in a silence so complete that even the almost noiseless movement ( of the French clock on the mantel was distinctly audible. M You are taking altogether too long to make up your mind, Mr. Withers. It will make shorter work to call Angie,” finally said John, sharply, his patience i «|»iito nl an end. He rose ami stopj*od to the dmir as he s|>oke. "It won't Ih> iicivwsrv, John—here l am!" said a clear voice, with a sharp ring in it that the family had learned to know meant decisive work, and Angie •tepped into the room, her blue eyes flashing with indignation and her lips trembling with scorn, beautiful as a gt*d dess. Hob startl'd up from hisahjcct attitude and atom! facing her with the look of a man waiting his doom from the tiring s<jiiad. As he stood there, drawn up to Ins full height, with jttst a touch of a|v l-eal softening the defiance of his ex pression, it was a manly face and figure in spite of Jill. Hut licr brothers re ceived Angie's first attention. " ^ «»u mean, cowardly fellows!” sh, said, in tones of concentrated content »t. I would not have believed that men were so mean!—And I am almost as milch ashamed of you, Mr. Withers,” she added, turning to Hob, with a softer, hut yet angry voice. “ Hid you think, sir. that I took you for your lteauly ? I don’t rare if you wear forty wigs, or none. \ oil are absurdly vain, sir. She was smiling now. "You should know that when a woman loves a man it is of grace and not of works. Anyhow. John." she added, turning to him', as if contrasting his slight figure with Hob's line phytique, "Mr. Withers doesn't wear shoulder puds.” With that fair ting shot she dtHup|>curcd into the dining r«N*m, in a moment rcap|>curiug to say: Mr. Withers, you may forgive them if you want to, I’m by no means sure that I shall. And now go to lied, all of you, ami don’t lie keeping us awake.” ’I here was an outward silence for a few moments. 'I hen John said : “ I don’t ask your pardon, Mr. With ers, Itccaiisc I meant to succeed, and I'm sorry I didn’t. Hut I know when I'm beaten, and you need expect no further opposition from me. Let's go to bed.” Mounted Infantry Officer*. Il’sll Mull Unrrltr.] Tin* necessity of mounting all Cap tains of infantry companies, if the officer* arc to perform their duties efficiently, is lieing again dwelt u|ton l<^ the French military press. In the French nrniv. as in nearly all other Continental forces, a company on a war footing, iiuiuIht* two hundred and fifty men, and it is urged that it is simply impossible for the Cap tain, however active he may lie, to properly superintend its working if he lias to move about on foot. F.xtcndcd in skirmishing order, a formation which has now become it* normal lighting order, or employed as an advance or roar guard, a com puny of two hundred ami lifty men covers a long stretch of ground, and ran, it is argued, only I * * adequately controlled hy a mounted officer. After a march, again, the captain of a company ought to look after the comfort of hi* men, visit them in their bivouacs, satisfy himself that they have received their proper ration*, and see that all camp duties are properly performed, lint if he is fatigued hy a long march on foot he will l»c but too likely to |N'rform his work in a (icrfuuctory manner; and consequently his company will sillier. .Moreover, now that a slmrt-wrviee sy« tem prevails in nearly every European army, the captain of a company will generally lie one of the oldest, if not the oldest man in it, and therefore not so well aide to endure fatigue as the younge/ men under his command. For all these reasons it is generally recognized as necessary that the captain should lie a mounted officer. In the German army lie i* provided with a horse, and in time of war even with two. In Austria and Italy the mounting of all captain* ha* only liccn temporarily po*t|*mod from considerations of expense, and in France a captain, when on a line of march or during maneuvers in the field, may ride if he choose* to provide himself with a horse at hi* own cost, lint unfortunately the small pay re ceived by them doe* not allow many of the French officers to avail tH'mseltres of this permission. How to he Welcome. What a ceremonious alf'air we make of entertaining company! Too many of it* lose all sense of lieing at home the moment a stranger crosses our thresh old, and he instantly feels himself to lie a mere visitor—nothing more—and act* accordingly. The inan who knows how to “ drop in ” of an evening, draw up hi* chairto the hearth, as if it were his own, and fall into the usual evening routine of the household a* if he were a member of ib—how welcome lie always Is! The man who comes to stay under your roof for a season, and who, with out lieing intrusive or familiar, make* you feel that he is “ at home ” with you ami i* content in hi* iisiihI fashion of occupation — how delightful a guest he is! And the house- ah, how few of them!- into which one can go for a day or a week Hnd feel sure that the family routine is in no wise altered, the family comfort is no wise lessened, hut on the contrary, increased by one’s presence- — what joy it is to cross their thresholds! What harlmrs of refuge they are hi weary wanderers! What sweet remin i see nee* they bring hi the lonely and homeless! Thr other day a woman walked into a bank in ('hemnitz and aaid that aixteen yeara ago *»he had drawn Home money from it, ami on reaching home found that ahe had received two ducat* too milch. Mcing in proaaing need at the time ahe Imd kept the money, and until now had lieen afraid to return it. Hhe waa tohl by the bank officer* that ahe might keep the dltcat*, whereupon ahe became highly excited and inaiated upon returning them with compound intercat which, together with the principal, amounted to over forty mark*, which «um waa thereupon handed over to a p»ior family. KfUTU’H mamma waa aiek, and the little fine felt,a* ahe expreawed it, “very mournful.” At night ahe prayed: “O Ixird, pleaac to make my near mamma well again. 8hc muat have eaten aome thing that didn’t digest. f>on’t let her he aick any more, for it’a no fun to her, nor to me aithar.” A Famous Itide to kimi-lon. • lAHwm Kx|»n •»» | I'ho writer *ut in a well-known saloon at noon yesterday, eating a delicious salad and sweltering over a cun of hot tea, when tile proprietor stepp'd up. “ The Is*vs have a'nice day for their excursion at King-ton,” -aid he. “ They have, indeed. K.vor hccu then* f “Ye-; I t€s»*|c a couple of (tank, robbers down then* twenty tixe or thirty years ago." ♦ * “ Indeed!” ^ os, sir. Never told you about ,1 hut affair, did I ?” I “No.” M ell, I will. It wa- let me sue in 1810. I was working at the Old Tingle I Hvorn ; had a couple «if nice InirM's, and for a young man, was doing a line busi ness. Those days there was neither railroad- nor telegraph. The stage coach was the only mode of public travel, and i it xvas tin* event of tin* day to sec the coaches from the West und Now York hustle into tho tavern yard. You knoxv where the tavern stood, don’t you?” “ N-uo, 1 think not.” “t'oilier of Hroadxvay and Ilaniiltou. Well, one cold morning, in the middle of 1 Vcenihor, I xxas jn-t stepping out from the office to the long xvondcit veran dah, when | noticed two xxell dressed gentlemen, each carrying a good-sized traveling satchel, hurrying toxvard the hotel. One of them addressing me, said: "Stage fur Noxv York gone vet?” “ Yes, sir.” “ Hnxv long?” “ Mor’n two lumrsngo.” I I hey xve re much excited over the I iicxvh, and asked xvliat they could do to get to New York speedily. I told them I didn t know, 1 lie boats had stopped miming a mouth, although one of them still ran to Kingston, the river being open that far up. She xvould leave that evening for NoXv York, and the stage coach xvhioli left Albany a couple of hours before xvould transfer its passen gers and mails to the steamer at King ston Point. Then the gentlemen said they must get that bunt, and asked if I knew of a couple of fast homes in the city, and if they could hire or get a car riage to heat tho stage in. If xvas a mnt '*•!* of life and death, they said, and they would pay any price. I asked what price, and they told me they xvould pay six hundred dollars to beat the stage to Kingston. It xvas a big sum, and I xvliistled, but I told them I'd take them, and off I rail. I found a friend of mine — Ilauk l<ewis we hitched up the horses to a four-seated sleigh; the two gentlemen Isiught some whisky, and axvay xve went "hollersplit” for King ston. liord, hoxv we did go! Two hours behind the stage, and yet Indore xve reached Athens xve passeil it. NearCat skill the horses gave out completely, and xve had to hire a new team. I didn’t want to go any further on account of the horses, hut one of the gentleman asked “ Wluit is that team of yours xvortli?” “Three hundred dollars,” I said. “ Drive on,” he answered, ‘‘I’ll nay for them.” Once wo tipped over, and half an hour was s|>eiit in getting to rights. Then we went at it again, and at half past four we drove up to Kingston Point, where the steamer lay all loaded, hut waiting for the Albany mail. The two gentlemen went on hoard and asked for Captain Demi, lie came aft, and they told him what they told lewis and I coming dowf). Mow they resided in ('a mu I it, hut were sons of an Knglish nobleman, who had died recently, Wav ing a valuable estate. Their prose net* was needed immediately in lamdon, if they would save the estate from a de signing relative. The packet sailed from New S’ork for Liveriiool on the first tide the next morning. They must get it or wait thirty days for the ne*‘ ship, and so lose their fortune. Tlu^r oflered the ('aplain two thousand dollars if he would leave then and there, and mako certain of catching the ship. u Would like to make that two thou sand dollars, gentlemen,” said Captain Dean, hut my orders are not to leave till I get the Albany mail, and I can not ac cept.” They deemed much disappointed, but said “it couldn’t lieex|>ected,” and then they made themselvesairreeahle toeverv Imdy about. They pain me the six hun dred -dollars promised, gave me three hundred dollars for the lost horsed, and gave the driver and the men over one hundred dollars each. We waited until the stage came in; the mails and pas sengers were transferred; away went the Iwtat in a hurry. Then we rode leis t urely hack to Albany, it lading a line night, hut before we got there we met the mounted jiolico furiously coming after our passengers, the dead noble man's Isigtis sons. They were hank rohl»ers, and those two satchels they held contained over non in gold and Hank of Kngland notes, the proceeds of a big Montreal robliery. “ Did they catch them ?” “Catch ’em! No. When the boat started that night they talked with Cup tain I>chii am) ottered him live hundred dollars if he would put them on board of the outward lanind ship before lie landed, as she would la* lying in the ehannet. Captain Dean accepted, and just at daylight the stcamltont lay along side tllC vessel, and by the time Captain lH-an got to his pier and the passengers awoke, the ship wassailing through the narrows and away to Kngland.” “Ami the robbers were never heard of?” " >ever. \\ by they had a start of thirty days, and, lieing young men, they are |ierha|>s living in elover in some Kuro|**an country on their ill-gotten wealth. They were smart enough to take us in by their smooth talk and gentlemanly address.” .lust then the salad was finished, and so was the storv. The writer nicked up his cheek and Sir. Vea/.ic walked to an other part of the dining room to see that his waiters were paying pro per attention to other hungry enstomers. The story has the merit of being liter ally true. T mb average < Connecticut farmer will suffer all day with colic liefore spending a cent for medirine, hut let om of his oxen look embarrassed and tiff tho old man rifles lor a veterinary surgeon. w in in i r •' Willie, lirro’a 0 foniilhtruoi! Wliy'n • " Then 4* she Maiiinumi ami |*au*t*l In think, llcrllnl. “ Shi ml 1C nil! W hoO|i'el III*, 'l.iaal IU-» y' I’ll iftiewn II qulrkiv'n a wink.*' “ Wall, tutpalkenec! litre me a mlniim-**" She |iload«*l, I hen Mild, •* What crime l« a lai—”* Ami Mm k nine inure. " There'* a gout Joke loll!" she wUiil, while he, *' Mow *low you arel" Avaln 'he l*« gall, •• Wlial etime iloew a *allor, In a Rotdlrr'a quartern token Mek, li.'i-iiil.le! Now. than, >onm*l»y rniler! Juat kuc" It! Clive ii*X!*io mii«n <|iilck!" lie gin'mxI Ilir»w» w«*'k», amlilliln'l gel niglill; Ale lloli to 'ImuHlIieO III' |ilnM>|>liorlr litalu, N t nil hi* liigenioii' friend* In try ll; I lien got »haii«|MMMi«d, nn«l weul nl it again. \t ln-t lie gave u|>, ami'lie lolil l lie aii'wrr: " A xallor took kick In mu-Ii a |*laee, Will, l» lik*' an alieiu|it liiuunlMa man, air! You mx* lie’a a Mill wtlliln lent took III!" A klirlek like the wIiimi|H*I a Sioux lie littered, ■ Then fell In a aw««>u< They luuillleed hi* hood j III ft week they xiw tlial III' |iiiIm‘ 'till itnlli ie<l ; In a moo Hi they l»>l'lere<l him ii|>Iii InxI. Ng, The doetiir m>h^IiI I ll/a to la'll ligr, “ Yoiii dill In H) I'i lurv ; ol"fi tc dial giln ; III* nit ml 'dll wainler*; you'll kill dial (ellei •'l you e\ei ixniumlruiii to him aglul" -•Af« Tor* li'myAk, KYUUY'DAY SPUEK1ES. Wlir.RKVKU there is much to offend, there is much to pardon ; ami when there is anything to pardon, he assured therein something to love. IIoWkvkk many friends von have, do not neglect yourself. Though you have a thousand,not one of them loves von ho much as you ought to love yourself. Sim»av is the strongest of all the days, for the others are week days and tins is hot. And yet Sunday is oftener broken than any one of the week fel lows. No character will please long which is uniform. To lie always jocose is buf foonery ; always pathetic, silly; always wise, sententious; always grave, tire some. KI.KIIY IN A COUNTRY 1'ARMltOVHK, 11Y A SI MMKl( MOJOl’IINKIt. Know >«> I lie tt|> where theuauey uhMiuIh' Kver >Iiuks tliroilult the milk hihI getn tmiglnl In Where lhe liitir* me n.i roll iin the youth Ihry en twine, The hue iiuhiI eni luuitlun, the null I- nilMt ill vine1 ’ l l* (he |||i of •* your* truly,** tlie tmnl of th«*kle*, 1 Tile llmt at the tahl^tlie hot one to tine. J —At., in / niton lilobr. Tin: fly which awakens you at early I dawn, hy crawling over your nose, may | drop into your neighlstr’s butter dish before dinner, and be served up in your own sauce for supper. ItociiKKTKH Pntiocraf: “Money in a nutshell" is the title of an article in the Cincinnati ({turtle. We shall not trust our money in so large a receptacle as J that. It would get lost. Ai.uany Art/tut: At a fashionable wedding recently when the bridegroom knelt down, “$Jf.r»0" was plainly seen on tin* soles of his shoes. There1 is noth ing like economy in beginning married life. A on BAT philosopher says: In the economy of nature nothing is lost. The inside of an orange may refresh one man, while the outside of the same fruit may serve as a medium for breaking another man’s leg. Woiutxtkh The grittiest chap in the country lives in Napa County, California. A cargo of rock : splinters was blown Into him hy the nrreinature discharge of a blast, ami now ic resembles a section of patent gravel j cement. IHKill: arc* but three way* for a man to revenge himself of the censure of the world: To despise it, to return the like or to endeavor to live ho iih to avoid it. The first of these in iiHiially pre tcudcd, the hint is almost impossible; the uni vernal practice in the. second. I'.v reference to the mortality rciMirts, *ays an exchange, it will he found that fourteen death* last week were attributed to (dd nge. This deserve* ncrious con sideration, and the Board of Health ought to take effective steps to prevent such a disease assuming the proportion* j of an epidemic. gt'MMKK THOUGHT*. Upon n imwHy knoll in the fore*!, I hay looking upward al the eteriml 1dm* ill tlielnfliih* and utili 1 lioiion*, through The oak-h'af and the licmlo, k'n iminiir, And now and then a rloiul went drilling hy, , hlatli km and alow, and changing to I lie view, llow like inv fh-ctlng anninier thought,) to you, Culm, peaceful cloud*! Ami now the evening *ky A deeiier, darker, lovelier a/.urc hath, The liirdH have cesucd their alnglug, and the breeze U tilled with Iiiiiii of Inweta; diirkiiou. Wltli the flrat few alars twinkling itixmgli the Ireea— ^ That night hath ,'onie. A little while, and death hike night, will eml life’s Hummer reveriea. —tfctilntrr. Many si young man *|>cnda his money like a prince for ice-cream to tresit hi* girl on Sunday night, and is willing to stand at zero hi the estimation of hi* friend* all the next week, by hi* per sistent lagging of a stray chew of to Intern, in cniisetjlienee of the ifhpecuni osity produced by one Sabbath's gener osity. Who can explain the operation ‘of that sentiment, which create* around the one object of our love a halo of life and beauty, which extend* to all animate and inanimate nature, anti of that other sentiment which, when we cease to hive, strip* the object of our latejpa**ion of all its adventitious charm* ano reduce* it to i the ordinary level ? Mrs. 4'r*H|mi*h Trip. Mrs. 4‘rapo, who with her husband has just crossed the ocean iri a boat, writes lioiiie t«i Now Bedford confirming the s(4»ry of their hardships. Hhe slept on a wet bod all through the voyage. They had several gales, the last Is'ing very hard but,” she says, "(h d was with us, nnd lleealnu d the sea so that we were able ls» make sail. The next morning OikI spoke t<» me. and said, * I am with : thee* don’t fear. Trust in me, and f will land thee safe on the shore.’ The teara ! dropped down my face like rain." Mrs. ! ('ra|H»comi>laineaof pains all through her 1 Iwsly, and she fainted twiee on the passage. The husband, U*>, was badly used up, and ls*th have unite enough dory voyaging. “ We would not under take this voyage again for eonsidcrnble. Nothing eon In make us go,” Thu pay of th#- French army officers has I sen increased, A Marshal of France will get ♦•»,'.Kil » year; a General of l )i vision, $8,8X8,and a Brigadier General. $2 692. ( ha plains will be paid $475, and Adistant C haplain* $60.