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p U. II. MILA. I-IM'IDI, AND PROPRIETOR. _ The Constitution, the Union, and the Enforcement of the Laws, $2 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. V()L- L_ DES ARC, ARKANSAS, FRI DAY, JANUARY 25, 186L NUMBER U. I Ike tfonotitiitioucU Pinion, PPM-ISBEU EVERY WEEK, AT Dcs A !•«*, A. i* 1-. a n s> is s , ■ EDITED AND PUBLISHED BY AV ESTOX II. RIIEA. Office on corner or Biuna Vista mid Ijon Streets, over John Jock son A Co. | Subscription price. Two Dollars per annum, invariably in advance. BATHS OF ADVERTISING. One square, (eight lines of this size type,) for one insertion, §1; each additional insertion, 5u cents. ] 1 am. - Bio. ■> Bio. ■ t> too. 1 I smare, $ 2501$ '»•"> s 800j$l >00|$1500 2 Squares, | 500' 80<tj 10 00 12 (mu 17 00 8 Squares, I 800 10 00' 1200 1500 25 00 i Column, ! 10O0| It 00] 13 00 17 001 SO 00 Column, i 12 00 15 00 17 00 20 00] 40 <>U •< Column, 15 00 17 00 20 001 25 00j 50 00 umn. 1800 2000| 25 001 3000; 6000 Vlvert.isers by the vear will be restricted to their legitimate business. Advertisements displayed by large type, charged double the above rates. Personal communications charged double the rues of regular advertisements. Legal advcrtisci.'ieuts will be charged, for otic square or less, first insertion $1. and 50 cents per square for each additional insertion. Announcing candidates for State and District offices, $7; County offices, $5; Township offices, $3, invariably in advance. Political circulars charged afadvertisements. Advertisements not ordered fir a specified time, will he inserted till forbidden and charged ac cordingly. OFF1CI.11 j I>l l i ICTOKV. I< LBS OF PR 4JO! \ i l . — COUNTY \Nl> I U.OBATIDUDGE, Jame8 J^. Hunt, C li E 11 K , WILLIAM GO CD RUM. s ii e r i r r. WILLIAM A. PLTXKETT. T K K A S l K K K , WYLIE LANK/0HD. C 0 R 0 X K I! , LEVIN II AKllS ON. KfIt.Vr.Y01!, 13. A. HOW'LL. COMMON SCHOOL COMVISION Kit, w. r. phes'on. IVTi: V, N A L IM PI* O V K M E N T'" M MITTE E, B E N J A M I N FV W 0 E T. JI STICKS «F TIE PE ACE# 1’rairG—15. F. Coulter, C. LJeard, B. V. Smith, Janies Glover. (' • Hi — (J. AT. Connor, W*l\. Dobbins. James Knight, Wta. Donnell, S. Coz4. W-,C. Robinson. 1‘rj'oa R-.-xt—Vser l’i|'kiuj'. i>. Robinson, if —II. P. Y&ugbl, T. B. Kent, L. C. Rcmbert, I). P. Black. <—S. C. Paine. B. Dorfuss. iVa t n.itiu;—V«. A. W. M irit \V. J. McCombs. Haiti1 ''mi—T, M. Gra v. J. I’ ker. —T. F. l'idc:. \*!I. Bren.tly. (V. ,tr l.ul—Guinn Barber,aim-' T. N!<-rris. La Gnu—T. .M. Belcher. Tanas Ilarville, C li A S T \ 15 E S . Prairie—Q. T. Webster: Oiler—J. I). Steele: ( — Jt. II. Kreeling: 11 Iton—K. Jarvis; j ■, a , 1—W A. Harper; Vkile River—C- T. oil!..::,: /. \l ivi—W. A. Biker: IFo/fc./, mu-— John Gales. ( nstables of ( ’ ■ r Lake a.1 La Grew Town skips Tailed to till l heir bonds. 8TEA M l',(R rI’ S. LEAVES MEMPHIS LVLF TUESDAY, Memphis. \\ hile am Little Ited River l’atte, A. dmiral; ELIAS TIIOMASSOX, - - - - Master, mills FINE FREIGHT AN PASSENGER I steamer, having been tlnMighlv repaired, will rfln r< uniarly between Meinj s and ihe vari ous points on White river thrni%mt the season, arriv ie at lie. Are on Thur-d-iyven:ngs on a-r up trip, and down on Friday even rs. I or lreiglit or passage, apply on board. janll. ',l-t! LEAV ES MEMPHIS E\ ER V AT 1 RDAY. Memphis, White andLittle Red River Pack*, Gr©:oNL I=»l5.G, FETE FLEMMING, - - - - Master. rnillS STEAMER HAVING F.EN TJIOR 1 otnrhlv relit ed. will malt-regular trips throughout the season, leaving,••mphis <’• r> Saturday, arriving at !)••< Arc <|-.v Moitd- . •« her r.p trip, and down every TueA,-. For l're .. or passage, apply onboard. jy 11, <> 1 -11 Kt";ii!ai' \evt ((ileans, !ii‘e aistl Little Red River lcket, Iside-Wlieel Steaer T A *27 A 1ST ; H. S. EATON,.Master. mills FINE FREIGHT ANflPASSENGER JL packet having been furniflE will. cotton guards. and otherwise repaired, it run between New Orleans and the various pits on White river, during the season, as Menu-monthly packet. nov 23-tf Li tig MEMPHIS EVERY I1S0AY. Memphis aud White Riv l»ac! £t. O <31.1 )EN ST.TE, IIICKS KING,.Master J. B. Russell, ... Clerk. mills SPLENDID PASS FACE STEAMER j 1 will make regular trips from lEiphis to Des Arc, Augusta and Jacksonport, oto Lite river, j For freight or passage, apply on b»d. t OLRC IO* OR WOT C Osii lOA ! fpiIlS IS TO INFORM ALL T110 WHO ARE L owing me, either by note or ncint, to come forward by the 28th of February xt and pay up, or they will have to pay the saao an officer. Money I must have to pay my deb A word to the wise is sufficient. jan!8-tf] JN'Qt. FRITH. TAKE WOTIcrf THOSE indebted to me will calhd pay; As I am obliged to collect want delay, To meet many pressing denial, In many hard dunning hands ianV61-3w. J. H. QUflNLLRRY. 1 > 9 Iti'si > i;ss CA.BDW, J. M. GOG GIN. V. C. TRADER. B. \V. L.IIOLT. GOGGIA, TRADER & 1I0LT, Cjtton and Tobacco Factors, <• It O C K H S, FOBWABIHNG AND COMMISfsiOV MKRCH.IN'TS, !Vo. 16 Front Row, MEMPHIS, ?ENN. WEEKLY ACCESSIONS RECEIVED tl rough " * out tlie season to their already huge and desirable stock of Tobacco, Ragging. Rote, Su gar. Coffee, Molasses. Bacon, Salt. Whisky Flour, and Plantation Supplies generally. WiL Store 1 "'ton, Leaf Tobacco and other 'Produce in out commodious Warehouse on Union Street, it sight < f their business house. No. It; Front Row. We Store and Sell Cotton at Toe per bale. m 30-3m ievui;lstou stove avoeks: GILES F FILLET, MANUFACTURER OF 1 carter Oak, Plynioth Hock, &, Valley Forge ^ ' ° o It i it o- ^ f oves! Also, every variety of PARLOR, ISO A & t .4 TOO*' STOVES, ' 1 and 1»j7 3riiiji ^(rcot. dec 7-tf_ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI, HOFFHEIIVSER BROTHERS, IMPORTERS AND DEALERS IN Brandies, 'Gins, Wines, Cigars, &r., A ISO, DISTILLERS k MANUFACTURERS OF Domestic W ines a n tl liiquors, -II Second St., betw. Main & Sycamore, 3 if._CINCINNATI, 0. r. KLEIN. LEPTIEN & KLEIN, DEALERS in CLOCKS, WATCHES and JEWELRY, Buena VLtu Street, DES ARC, ARKANSAS. Having on hand \ new and selected stock of Clocks, Watches and Jewelry, we respectfully solicit a continuance of the kind pat ronage ol the people of Dos Arc and surrounding country. We are also prepared to do all kinds of v-nfi i;. ( jock and .Jewelry work with care and despatch. All work warranted. dec 7-tf It. I). PERRY, - - J. M. PETTEY. PERRY & PETTEY, ututli si<!t* of Etwirna % i*,<a Street. 1 DES ARC, ARKANSAS, nF.AI.EE* IN STAPLE, FANCY. FOREIGN and Domestic Dry-Goods, Ready-Made ('lo ll,if.' Hats and Caps, Roots and Shoes, Hardware >tid Cuttlery. Queensware, etc. Also, a complete I.-.-,'!; tnent >,f Fancy Silks, Riljl>ons. Trimmings ind f ancy articles of every description. All kinds of goods, by the piece, at wholesale I't'icc'. dee 7-tf EES ARC HOTEl7 BY J. I . TVHHINTON, DES ARC, ARKANSAS. T T \ VINO LEASED THIS WELL-ARR ANGED £ i Hotel, the proprietor re-peetfully informs • \ elers and the i.ublic generally, that lie has coui [ ■ !y ;• ■ '.at,.-! tlie premises, and is prepared :■> a commod.-ue all who may favor him with their patronage. If unremitted care and attention will secure the favor , f all. lie is determined to please. CHARGES REASONABLE. I The Bar attaehedto this House is supplied ivith the best of Liquors and Cigars. nov E. O. NORTON, - - F. A. PRAGUE. E. O. X O RTO \ & < [onvardin:; & Commission Merchants AND DEALERS IN FLOUR, GRAIN and PRODUCE, No. Ni<> Front Row, d< ■ 1 f-2m MEMPHIS. TFNN. F*. >1. ROBINSON, ------ «. J. BRANCH. ROBINSON & BRANCH, (Successors to G. W. Vaden,) WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALERS IN (i ropoeies anti 1 ‘roduce, r;i ! LIVING, FORWARDING A COMMISSION MERCHANTS, DES UP'. ARKANSAS. M L \REX. ------- S. N. JACKSON. MXAREN &l JACKSON, Successors to G. & J. McLaren & Co., DES ARC, ARKANSAS. n TALERS IN STAPLE AND FANCY DRY Goods, Ready-Made Clothing, Hats and l»oi!t.t*tlioors an«l .Shoes, Hardware ana ’uttlery. Hook*. Stationery, etc. Also, Receiving, [•'»r\v;irfling an«l t’ornmission Merchants, nov •>. GARVIN, BELL & CO., IMPORTERS A WHOLESALE DEALERS IN roll :IGX & DOMESTIC DRY-GOODS, AXI> M imfaetun rs oi'( lot hint?. Xom Jiff aud 444 Main Street, north side, nov lO-Cm. LOLISV ILLE, K\. A. ST It WART, WM. STEWART, H. STEWART. STEWART & BROS-, 5 f eoeivingr, l^oi*WMi*<lingr U1I CO.tl.UISSIOV 3IERCII 4YTS, g ARC, \ 1: KANSAS. J. H. QUISEIJBERRY, AUCTION, COMMISSION MERCHANT, A X l> Jfceal Estate Agent, n0T ;>. I)ES ARC, ARKANSAS. R^C IHCCARLEY & CO., DKS ARC, ARKANSAS. Dealers in staple and fancy dry Goods, Ready-Made Clothing, Hats, Caps, Joots, Shoes, Hardware, Queensware, Etc., Etc., ’ortvarding and Commission Merchants, nov3. I>ISSOLI TIOY YOTICE. rHE PARTNERSHIP HERETOFORE EXIST ing between the undersigned in the practice >f medicine, has been dissolved by mdttial con tent. T. Jefferson Woodson is alone authorized o settle the business of the late firm. J. J. LANE. W. 11. CHAMBERS. bes Arc, Jan. 9, ’Gl-4t. __ COOK SII4RIM A LL PERSONS INDEBTED TO ME. EITHER l\ by note or account, will come up by the 1st jf j;i rv next and pay me, or they will be put in he , nils of an officer for collection. '__GEO, w. VAPEN. j SEEDS! SEEDS!! • T AGE LOT OF FRESH HUNGARIAN , V • ••USB Seeds, just received and for sale by 40:. " JOHN JACKSON & CO > ,r J • , profewsional cardm. T. J. JOBE, Attorney at I^aw, DES ARC, ARKANSAS, TVTILL PRACTICE IN PRAIRIE AND T1IE v T adjoining counties. Particluar attention given to Collections. Reeeiiences.—T. J. & C. Powell, Knoxville, I’enn.; Thos. H. Callaway, President of Ocoee Rank, Cleveland. Tenn.; Moore & Marsh, Chatta nooga. Tenn.; Hon. John 11. Lumpkin, Koine, Ga.; Hon. William Daugherty, Columbus, (hi.; Hon. Joseph T. .McConnell. Ringgold, Ga.: William H. Inman, President Northwestern Bank, Ringgold, Georgia._ nov 3. T. B. KENT, Attorney at Law, DES ARC, ARKANSAS, YyiLL PRACTICE IN THE COURTS OF TT Prairie, White, Monroe, Arkansas, St. Francis, Jackson and Independence counties. All business intrusted to bis care shall meet with prompt attention. Office on Lyon street. noL'3-tf, J>i*. .1. J. LANL, Resident Physician, DES ARC, ARKANSAS, rTlENDERR IIIS SERVICES TO THE CITIZENS _L of Des Arc and adjacent country. From his experience, he hopes to share at least a por tion ot the patronage of the public. Office on Ruena A ista street, tit Ralsly’s Drug Store, jy-y r. SANDERS, ------ - - J. E. NEEL. DES. SANDERS & NEEL, It e si 1 tie n t, 1* hysieiuns, DES ARC, ARKANSAS. Having formed a partnership in the practice of their profession, tender a continuation of their services to the citizens of Des Arc and adjacent country. (tiiice, up stairs, corner Ruena Vista and Woodruff streets, nov3 E. T. SWEYER, 3 )entisf , DES ARC, ARKANSAS. VtriLL CONTINUE THE BUSINESS IN ALL i t its branches, including continuous Gum Work. Office on Ruena Vista street, up stairs, Jackson’s new building. nov Hi-tf. RUSS EVANS, REAL ESTATE & GENERAL LAND AGENT. DES ARC, ARKANSAS. ¥ Y P / lA f DT lTTl.’VTTtiV At' T T r TH.’ mi’l'Y (PA 1. all business entrusted to him in his line. nov 3. J. T. PARHAM, Architect un«l litiildcr, DES ARC. ARKANSAS. SOLICITS CONTRACTS FOR BUILDINGS OF > ’ every style. Jle is also prepare I to furnish Designs, Estimates and Drawings of all the mod ern orders of architecture: build, superintend uid furnish working plans for building at mode rate prices. Orders left at the “Citizen Office,” will receive prompt attention. nov 3-y DR. H. ARMISTEAD, H aving permanently located at DES ARC, offers his professional services n the citizens of the town and adjacent country. Iffice on Lvon street. nov 3. T. J. WOODSON, Attorney at lanv, DES ARC, ARKANSAS, A AT ILL PRACTICE IN THE FIFTH JUDICIAL TV Circuit, and the counties of White, -lack mu and Monroe. All business intrusted to his rare will be promptly attended to. . nov 3 C. A. JUBSON, C'arpenter nn<I Joiner, 1)ES ARC, ARKANSAS, Dealer in sash, doors, mantles, Window and l)f or Frames, etc. Shop corner Erwin and Park Streets. N. B.—Coffins made to mler. on short notice. nov 3-y A. W. MCNEILL, Attorney nt Law, DES ARC, ARKANSAS, I)RACTICES in the courts of prairie and adjacent counties. Office, corner Erwin i ind Lyon streets. nov 3 | E. S. HAMMOND7 Attorney a t I^a w, n~ FF1CE: TELEGRAPH BUILDING, NORTH Side Court Square, jay 18-tf. MEMPHIS, TF.NN. W. B. CROCKER & CO., WHOLESALE AND RETAIL Or r o c e r s , First door West of J. II. Quisenberry's Store. OKS 4 U < , 4 SI Ei 4 X S t S. I I rMAKE PLEASURE IX ANNOUNCING TO j I the citizens of Prairie and adjacent counties, , hat they are now in receipt of a large and well selected stock of c; j;oceeies ax r> nardwarj-:. '’onsisling in part of Sugars, Molasses, Coffee, 'undies, Cheese, Vinegar, Salt, Whisky, Rice, Pickles, Sardines, Flour, Fish, Raisins, Figs. Cit •cins. Alntonds. Candy. Soap, Starch, Soda, Crack >rs, Tobacco. Cigars, Nails. Castings. Iron, Steel, Log Chains, Ox Chains, Pole Axes, Spades, Shov Is, etc., etc., with all other articles usually to be ound in a similar establishment. All of which hey are now selling low' for cash. nov 3-tf STOVE AND TIN SHOP! I IV. II. 15 ix r It HAS REMOVED HIS TIN SHOP TO THE house recently occupied by J. W. Wallace, in Buena Vista street, opposite the Nucleus House, where he is prepared to accommodate the public with the best articles of COOKING STOVES, TIN-WARE, md all other merchandise in his line, ever Drought to this market. My cooking stoves are immediately from alarge - . ■ uis establishment, and I feel confident that :b .-<• who want these convenient articles can suit h' : -eHe- from my large assortment. Give me i and examine before purchasing el»e wLvre. nov3 P 1 It'.-lS DREAMING OF THEE. BY HARRY TWIST. I was dreaming of thee, love— An angel’s dream was mine ; Methought 1 clasped thy hand, love, And thou didst whisper, thine. TVe stood beside the gate, love, And not a soul was seen To listen to our vows, love, Beneath the moon's bright sheen. I was dreaming of thee, love; My heart beat high with pride, Arrayed in purest white, love, Thou stood'st, my lovely bride. A joyous throng was there, love, And music echoed free; But. none so soft, so sweet, love, As our heart’s minstrelsy. I was dreaming of thee, love, And thought that long, long years Traced the rude lines of care, love, And furrows for our tears; And yet as true as e’er, love, Thy heart—my heart in bliss Lived but one hope, one joy, love, Our mutual happiness. 1 was dreaming of thee, love— Alas! 'twas all too fair! I ’woke to find a blank, love, A picture drawn in air. This world to me all dark, love, Hath yet one gentle gleam— It is that 1 may dream, love, Of thee I e'er may dream. I was dreaming of thee, love, 1 am dreaming of thee now: And busy thoughts will write, love, That dream upon my brow. ’Tis said. “.Some dreams are true,” love. Oh! grant that this may be, And 1 will spend this life, love. In one sweet dream with thee. -- * A E1 C T U R E. BY CARRIE A. CLARK. Twas of a aaiden, wondrous fair, With wildering curls of raven hair, That draped her snowy nook ami arms, Aud kissed her bosom s dimpled charms, let through whose meshes, dark as night, Came glimpses of her beauty bright, As sometimes, through a cloud afar, On mo glimmerings of the evening star; One snowy arm across her breast, The silken bodice tightly pressed, And nestled 'mid the laces tight, v^.... >1 r....#*• _i ._r:_ As though before the mirror's face With careless and bewio- '. : grace, >Sho dressed her sway • . j erehnnee, To glide through som ••tinirr dance. And then her eyes, s . -o bright, Gazelle-like ill tlicir r. ;,il tight, Beneath whose darkly fringed lid 1 oung Cupid kept his arrows hid, And sent with swift unerring art ’I heir stinging points to many a heart, The lids v re closed, yet all the while, Half trembled twixt a sigh and smile, For love, the rogue, though unconlessed, Had stolen coyly to her breast, Illuming with his tender rays The picture lair, that those who gazed Might drink -omewhat from that sweet face, An angel’s purity and grace, .1 T THE '.in. i /' MILE8TOS /.. Life has often been called a way. a journey, a pilgrimage, and all mortals are pilgrims. To-day the W andering Jew (who in our nine teenth century may be a pedler with a pack or a patent on his restless shoulders.) alter all. stands by the wayside and reads upon the out worn face of some stone image—tin old man with a child’s dreaming eyes resting under the snow vail ot his bosom: *• The Great | Milestone—I am the Past—Weep.” But th ere seems a soul blossoming into a smile on | tlic marble lips ot the dreaming child—dream ing in marble—and a whisper grows into the heart of the pilgrim : 4i 1 am the Future— Smile.” Then tiie stone image of the old man and the dreamimg child vanishes and there is a lonely heart beating in the solitude, and it whispers, ■’ Itegret not—the old vear takes the mortal. Memory, hut the new year gives the angel, Hope.” All of us are that pilgrim ; humanity is the homeless one—ever on a threshold hut never passing over it We all stand at the great milestone of time; we see the marble image —the old man with the child nestled in the snow of his dead bosom, asleep; we read all the traceries of the wrinkled face, li I am the Past—W cep”—and translate the marble dreamer's soul: •• 1 am the Future—Smile.” And so on the great highway of the world we pass the old life of the dead time—always the Present lighted with the soul of the Future. Are there toiling bells, are there funeral trains, are there open graves when we come to the Great Milestone? The year's closing is the type of a great death : the air is full of tolling bells; the darkness is thronged with funeral trains of the vanished hours ; the open grave of the year shows tlie coffins in the vaults of our lives where the holy dead lie beau tiful. And from them arise—for the beautiful faces are only dust—like exhalations, phan tom-likened and ghostly, the souls of the Past. When we pause at the Great .Milestone and read the inscription, I am the Past—Weep.” these are the sounds we hear, or rather the ghosts of sounds, for they are echoes of bells Thai distance of recognizance bereaves; these spirits of the vanished hours, some with asphodels and some with amaranth-bosoms, the forms that follow the year whose Memory is an old man with a child’s head in the drift ed snows of his bosom; the open grave we see are in our lives, and from them the silent companions of thought arise on the hushed stairways of our hearts. Death hears the Angel Life in his arms asleep—the marble Memory of the old hears the marble Hope of the figures that make the pilgrim linger at the Great )i lostone. He pauses and lingers and listc: - '.u Looks before and or, And pines for what is not. He asks stern questions—hut the angels will not answer; and the grave only echoes them. Behind him is the way he has come; before him is the way liis footsteps were going. And he bends down and kisses the marble child and whispers into his ear—“ Winter ?” And the child seems waking from its marble dream and smiling. And this is all; but this is the assurance—“ I am the Future—Smile.” Then the restless world goes on, “ toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing.” We have all passed the Great Milestones before. All of us have seen the old worn face with a snow-fall of Time upon his bosom, and the child that dreams of Spring under that snow-fall of W ter; he whose voice is silence—“ I am the Past—Weep”—and he whose smile is language—“ I am the Future —Smile.” In the Roman Forum there was a gilded pil lar called the .1Iiiliarium Aureum, from which every distance was measured in all directions from this heart of the Empire. And, some times, looking hack, we see the Great Mile stones transfigured in some holy light— The light never was on sea or shore, The consecration and the poet's dreim— and the marble image has a halo about its 1 brow and is a divine form of immortal youth and glory : these are golden Milestones in our lives, and all our dusty paths lead backward to them, and from them the distances are marked upon our brows and hearts; they are crowned with the transfigured Past—the angel and not the mortal Memory. But when wc have the Great Milestones with their stone images of age and weariness and decay, the child that we leave, sleeping and smiling marble in the snow of the old man’s bosom, steals from the arms of each and leaps before us, and presently we see far oft’, where the sun touches some hight whence the breath of morning brings us the souls of diviner flow ears, the true Golden Milestone of our lives standing; and the the marble child, gleam ing witli a glory and crowned with a sun wreath and lifted with wings, from the Great Milestone that marks “the bettes years.” Ah, the better years! We the Milestones of the mortal ebb and flow of Time—we “let the dead Past bury its dead;” we put our own dead beautiful and loved in that dead Past’s hearses, and still we move on and trust the smile and lorgct tears; and still “ On the soul Bright from the hill-tops of the beautiful Burst the attained goal’’— the Golden Milestone of our longing. And we learn the lesson that between Here and There is life, and that the Great Milestones are but devices of the Way. We are pilgrims between HERE AND THERE. Here the weariness and pain, The sultry toil, the dragging chain ; Here in funeral array, 1 n his coffin, goes To-Day ; There, unknown of night or sorrow, Coffin-cradled smiles To-Morrow ! The Meninon-life, so dumb to-night, Sings against that .Morning-light! Here the toiling feet, the eyes Blindly fueling for the skies ; Here the mountain paths of ice Crawling round the precipice ; Here the Endeavor of the Soul; There Aspiration and the goal; The Ideal from the sunny slope Like an angel kissing Hope! Here November bears the bier— There May goes singing the Green Year! Here the statue carved in stone— x ueru ciiiJ'jis iiuan r vginanuu : Here the tears—the Rainbow There, Taking all this rainy air ; Here the slough—the angels wait There at the Lost Edens s gate: Between, how halts our Lite's despair! Jlrre the Earth—and Heaven There! “ I am the Past. Weep. lbtjU.” “Iam the Future. Smile. ISOl.” --— m O -ce— 110 ir TO KEEP THE BA B Y Q UIET. See that the mother hits a contented mind, j That the best receipt I know off. Always j meet her with a smile which the immortal | “Guide to Wives” recommends them, under , mountain loads of perplexity and provocation, to keep on hand for their husbands. Don’t imagine, because home looks cozy and com fortable when you return at night, that it is well either for the baby’s sake, or its mother’s, that you should never take the latter out of it for relaxation and fresh air. Oh. if you knew how a woman loves a man for occasionally ' thinking of these little things—little to you 1 —great to us. 1 know it is less trouble, if | your purse is well lined, to step into a milli- j tier’s and order a new bonnet, which so many [ wives have wanted to throw out of the win dow for very bitterness of spirit, had they dared. A bonnet! which vour ostrich hus band fancies will cover till his conjugal sel- ! lishncss and sins of omission, lie had rather give her this than draw his boots on his slip pered feet alter tea, and take the weary wife and mother out for the fresh air; and then he wonders why the baby worries,” and keeps both awake all night, and why its mother’s eyes look so rayless, and why she heaves that little sigh when he sits down to read his newspaper; and then he settles down to the comfortable conclusion that, “ after all, there is no understanding women.” and reads on. Sometimes he says, “ah,” knows wheth-' or a steamboat is burned up, or fifty people have been made mince meat of by a railroad accident, or Bonner has got another illustri ous contributor.” or the tail of the comet has swished through the milky way. He is too lazy even to talk about it. Now, •• bonnets” don’t cure the heart-ache; and all the rings and bracelets you could toss into a woman’s lap (1 speak of a true woman) are not worth one clasp of your arms round her neck, when you come home from your place of business. We don’t want forever to take it tor granted you love us. We are de monstrative, we woman. There is no need of your breaking your backs to pick up our handkerchief as you used, in the old courting times; (heavens! how you stepped round then)—neither do we want you after hanging up your coat and hat in the hall to sit down in the parlor and cross your legs, without ever coming up stairs to give us the return kiss, which is so potent to make us forget all the little musquito stinging household annoy ances, which are but a feather’s weight when our heart’s are light and happy; for it is not work, but worry, which make leaden hearts and footsteps. Besides, under the discourag ing circumstances to which l have alluded, it is quite impossible to keep up that stereotyped ••smile,” to which the “Guide to Wives” so touchingly alludes. Guide to Wives! As if all wives were alike, or husbands either; as if a doctor had but one kind of pill for all his patients; that’s an unfortunate figure of speech, 1 know; still there are good doctors, and as a class they are much handsomer than any other profession, though 1 have seen some editors—but that is neither here nor there. Ah—now you listen. You have a family doctor; and you you and you. Very good. See to it that you are as agreeable and gentlemanly as he is. lie don’t go to sleep the minute your wife comes into the room; or turn his back upon her and sit down and read vile politics all the evening, with an occasional grunt of assent or dissent, to some invisible person. Nor—does any other gentleman who visits your house. Perhaps now you may think the subject worth considering. I shouldn't be surprised. Fanny Fern. - m • m A Nut for Lawyers to Crack.—A case of the following kind came up recently in Pennsylvania : A. B. married C. D.’s sister. His wife died. A. B. then married C. D.’s daughter; she died. C. D.’s wife died C. D. married E. F. and died. A. B. then married C. D.’s widow, and had children by each wife.— What relationship exists between all the children of A. B'( - ^ m ^ - Count De Flahault, the new French Ambassador to London, was the bearer of the letter of surrender from Napoleon I. to Cap tain Maitland, of the Bellerophon, in which ship he was so treacherously and cowardly conveyed to perpetual exile on fc:t. Helena. ^ CLOSING SCENE OF THE FALL OF JERUSALEM. FRO^I SAI.ATHIAL. The fall of our illustrious and unhappy city was supernatural. The destruction of the conquered was against the first principles of the Roman policy, and to the last hour of our national existence, Rome held out offers of peace, and lamented our frantic determi nation to be undone. Rut the decree was gone forth from a mightier throne. During the latter days of the siege, a hostility, to which that of man was as the grain of sand to the tempest that it drives on, overpowered our strength and senses. Fearful shapes and voices in the air—visions startling us from our short and troubled sleep—lunacy in its most hideous forms—sudden death in the midst of vigor—the fury of the elements let loose upon our unsheltered heads—we had every terror and evil that could beset human nature, but pestilence; the most probable of all in a city crowded with the famishing, the deceased, the wounded, and the dead!" Yet, though the streets were covered with*the un buried—though every well and trench was teeming—though six hundred thousand corpses lay flung over the ramparts, and naked to the sun—pestilence came uot; if it had come, the enemy would have been scared away. Rut the “ abomination of desolation,” the pagan standard, was fixed, where it was to remain until the plow passed over the ruins of Jerusalem. On this night, this fatal night, no inan laid his head on the pillow. Heaven and earth were in conflict—meteors burned above us ; the ground shook under our feet; the volcano blazed; the wind burst forth in irre sistible blasts, and swept the living and the dead, in whirlwinds, far into the desert. We heard the bellowing of the distant Mediterra nean, as if its waters were at our side, swelled by a new deluge. The lakes and wa ters roared and inundated the land. The fiery sword shot tenfold fire. Showers of blood fell. Thunder pealed from every quar ter of the heavens. Lightnings, immense sheets, of an intensity of duration that turned darkness into noon-day, withered eye and soul, burned from the zenith to the ground, and marked its track by the forests on flame and the shattered summits of the hills. Defense was unthought of. for the mortal enemy had passed from the mind. Our hearts quaked for fear; but it was to see the powers of heaven shaken.’' All cast away the shield and spear, and crouched before the descending judgment. We were conscious smitten. Our cries of remorse, anguish, and horror, were heard through the roar of the storm. We howled to the earth to hide us; we plunged into the sepulchres to escape the wrath that consumed the living—we would have buried ourselves under the mountains. 1 knew the cause, the unspeakable, and knew that the last hour of crime was at hand A few fugitives, astonished to see one man among them not sunk in the lowest feeble ness of fear, came around me. and besought me to lead them to some place of safety, if such was now to be found on ea’th. I told them openly that they were to die, and coun selled them to die on the hallowed ground of the Temple. They followed, and 1 led them through the streets encumbered with every shape of human suffering to the foot of Mount Moriah. Hut bevoud that, we found advance impossible. Piles of cloud, whose darkness was palpable even in the midnight in which we stood, covered the Holy Hill. Impatient, and not to be daunted byanvthing that man could overcome. I cheered my dis heartened baud, and attempted to lead the way up the ascent. But I had scarcely en tered the cloud v en I was swept downward by a gust that tore the rocks in flint}' showers around me. Now came the last and most wondrous sign that marked the fate of re jected Israel. M bile L la}- helpless, I heard the whirl wind roar through the cloudy hill, and the vapors began to revolve. A pale light, that of the rising moon, quivered on their edges, and the clouds rose, and rapidly shaped themselves into forms, and battlements, and towers. The sound of voices was heard within, low and distant, yet strangely sweet. Still the lustre brightened, and the air}' buildings rose, tower on tower, and battle ment c battlement. In awe. that held us mute, we knelt and gazed on this more than mortal architecture, that continued rising and spreading, and glowing with a serener light, still soft and silvery, yet to which the broadest moonbeam was dim. At last it stood forth to earth and heaven, the colossal image of the first Temple, of the buildings raised by the nr l C AO t ol* n>on I .11 . . w.isitn.l l.i- tli a glory. All Jerusalem saw the image; and the shout, that in the midst of their despair, ascended from its thousand and tens of thou sands, told what proud remembrance were there. Rut a hymn was heard, that might have hushed the world beside. Never fell on my ear, never on human sense, a sound so majestic, yet so subduing; so full of melan choly, yet of grandeur and command. The vast portal opened, and from it marched a host, such as man shall never see but once again—the guardian angels of the city of David ! They came forth glorious, but with woe in all their steps; the stars upon their helmets dim; their robes stained; tears flow ing from their celestial beauty—“ Let us go hence,” was their song of sorrow. “ Let us go hence,” was answered by the sad echoes of the mountains. “ Let us go hence ” swelled upon the night to the farthest limits of the land. The procession lingered on the summit of the hill. The thunder pealed, and rose over the expanse of heaven. Their chorus was heard still, magnificent and melancholy, when their splendor was diminished by the brightness of a star. Then the thunder roared again—the cloudy temple was scattered on the wind and darkness, the omen of her grave, settled upon Jerusalem. -m m ^ - An Infant’s Sleep.—Dr. James Wilson, in a paper upon “ Affections of the Heart,” read before the Royal College of Physicians, in London, indulged in the following sweet strain, in speaking of an infant’s sleep : “So motionless is its sweet slumbers, that, in watching it. wc tremble, impatient for some stir or slumber that may assure us of its life; yet is the fancy of the little sleeper busy, and every artery and every pulse of its frame en gaged in the work of growth and secretion. Though his breath would not stir the smallest insect that sported on his lip—though his pulse would not lift the flower-leaf of which he dreamed, from his bosom ; yet, following the emblem of tranquility into after life, we see him exposed to every climate—contend ing with every obstacle—agitated by every passion ; and, under these various circumstan ces. how different is the power and degree of the heart’s action, which has not only to beat, but to “ beat time ” through every moment of a long and troubled life 1” * SINCERITY. We are always being exhorted to be sin cere. The minister tells us to be sincere, books tell us to be sincere, and parents and teachers tell us to be sincere. l?ut what if we were really to become so ? In sober earn estness, would it bo right and best never to “ put the best side” on anything, but always to speak the exact truth, according to the thoughts and feelings of our minds? W hen we are requested to confer a favor, and don’t want to do it, ought we to so, in stead of politely^and cordially conseting? When a friend asks us how we like his ser mon, or lecture, or book, or new mustache, ought we, if we feel so, say we don’t like it at all, instead of turning the matter off in some pleasant way ? When we feel lazy, cross, or selfish, ought we to act out those dispositions, in order that we may not play the hypocrite and seem bet ter than we are ? If we don’t like a person, ought we to exhibit our repugnance ? In so ciety people are frequently compelled to shake hands with, and talk and laugh with, those whom they neither respect nor like. What should they do ? offend and mortify one who after all, may he, on the whole, morally bet ter than they are, by refusing to exchange with him the amenities of life ? Then how often do you have company when it is a perfect bore? Now then, to be per fectly true, would be to tell your visitors that you are sorry to see them, and you wish that they would go directly away. Would that be true ? Is it wrong, then, to behave as though you were glad to see them, and to try to ren der their visit happy? Is it possible, would it be even decent to he alwys sincere ? and where is the line to be drawn? There was once a gentleman who, through the effects of a terrible fever, became perfectly open-hearted, lie never said or did anything that he did not feel like saying and doing, and he seldom thought anything that he did not saw All the disguised thoughts of other years were now spoken—he told people just what he thought of them, and just how ho felt towards them. For him there was no more conventionally —he had forgotten that there is a use as well for the quality of secretiveness as for that of candor, and out came his ideas very truthfully. He mortified and offended nearly every friend he had in the world ; for few people eau endure to be •• twitted on facts,” before others espe cially, ana our sincere map naa no regaru ior the number of his hearers when he spoke his mind. He broke the heart of the young lady to whom he was engaged by telling her of things that were her misfortune, not her fault, and by stating that it took him ‘‘ a great while to learn to endure thought of marrying her.” He added that he never should have loved her if he had not seen how d( 'otedly she was attached to him ; and that even now he some times thought “ it must be from a sense of duty” that lie was goiug to wed her, People called this man insane; but why? He at tended properly to all his business, he was as competent as ever to take care of himself; all that indicated insanity was his frightful sin cerity. Alter many months this gentleman recov ered his natural state of mind; and then he wonderec at the manner of all his friends. Several of them he never could regain; and the lady of his love, proud and sensitive, and fully believing in the truth of what he had declared to her. refused utterly to see him; and in a few months she died, leaving him to mourn her loss ; which he did deeply and long, for he truly loved her, though his can-' dor caused her death. We are all imperfect creatures, and in many Ways we render ourselves disagreeable the one to the other; probably those that love each other best often have thoughts and feelings towards each other, momentary, perhaps, if they last no longer, that would cause deepest pain were they expressed. Wives and hus bands, even parents and children, have some times felt an emotion of repulsion and disgust towards each other, Would it he right ever to let such emotions shape themselves in words ? Disguised, choked down in silence, they soon die and are forgotten ; hut he sin cere and own them, and they will live forever in the wounded heart and memory of their object. Eternity could not cause them to be forgotten. We must hide ourselves. Wo cannot always be sincere, if by sincerity it is meant that we are never to subdue our feel ings or restrain our emotions^ assume good •• people would have us believe. The truth is, we should he honest and good-hearted, and should understand that where no principle, or question of right and wrong is concerned, it is our duty to repress nil sentiments which, if expressed, would cause pain to others or ii-avI- inicnlnnl' Am* nnurli^Aro nr BAnmtr ------- - - —• m --—-—— A SKUL EM ASTER WANTED. Coox Creek, June 25, 1889. Our committy of five men lias just adjourn ed. They hav bin for nine days a tryin’ to argree on what kind of a skule master they wanted. Ther was about as much difference in their views as there is betwixt Ginny nig gers and pintcr dogs. One man wanted him to teach the Dolby system in writing. Anoth er man wanted him to know all abont talkin’ Indun and surveyin’. The next man who was a grain the peartest individual in makin’ moves, said that a skule master ought to sifer to t’other side along divishun, spel Constino ple without lookin’ at the word, and turn sum ersetes. This would have passed as slick as ridin but they chairman objected, and swore he’d be dod durned if he would go in. for a man without he could tell by geegrafy when Genncy Lind the signin woman was born, how much Louisiana cost us in clean slugs ; how much the interest will be on the Union Bank bonds by the time we pay up, and what a spotted circus hoss is worth accordin to the last statistics. This brought the meetin to a pint—two in favor, and two agin it, and one astraddle the roop. They argued it three days, never stoppin only to likker. The third day, late in the evenin, the question was voted plum down. One feller sed it would take a pese of paper as big as a section of land to count up ihe interest of the bonds} and such bein the case it was agreed to drap it. All hands then agreed to have a teacher that could spell, read, rite letters, and nowhere to back ’em to that he should kno how to make washin machines, bottom cheers, and nit with a bone. Now, mister editur, cf you no enny man in your eend of the woods that’ll fill the bill, send him along middliu quick, as their is sev eral a watin to get the job. N. B.—-We’d rather he had but one leg, so he couldn’t run away. Tourn til deth. JULIOUS WIGGERMAN. - ■■ ■ m - Tiie Indianapols Journal says there a scheme on foot to separate southern Indiana from the rest of the State, and join the South : ern Confederacy.