Newspaper Page Text
THE HERALD is Published Every Saturday Morning, At SMYRNA; Del. 0PRUANC3E $ 0 , É'LACKISTON,' Proprietors. TERMS:—$2 Per Annum, Cheap Job Printiiis Office, SMYRNA. OEh. PLAIN AND ORNAMENTAL ÎI JOB PRINTING 0 OF EVERY DESCRIPTION Executed with Neatness & Dispatch OSTKRS, BILL HEADS, CHECKS, Order» by Nail Will Receive Prompt Attention. m CIRCULARS, PAMPHLETS, CARDS, TICKETS, Ac, Advertisement» Inserted nt the I'aual Batea. % jfpilfl jEtfospptr : geboteb to (general anb fötal Intelligente, Agricultural anb Hlecjaaitat Interests, |goliticg an b ^bberthing. VOL. II. NO. 21. SMYRNA, DEL., SATURDAY MORNING, AUGUST 5, 1871 M IT IS NOT TOUR BUSINESS WHY The following lines are not limited to any particular locality, but ure applicable to ev ery neighborhood : Would you like to know the secrets Of your neighbor's house and life? How he live» or how lie doesn't, And Just how lie treats his wife? How lie spends hin time of leisure, Whether sorrowful or gay, And where he goes for pleasure? To the concert or the play? If you wish it I will tell you— Let me whisper to you sly— If your neighbor is but civil. It is not your business why. Jn short, instead of prying s affairs, If you do your own but j ustice. You will have no time for their's. Be attentive lo such manners Ah concern yourself alone, And whatever fortune flatters Let your business be y One word by way of finish— * whisper to you sly— If you wish to he respected, You must cease to be a pry. Into other own. FOU OTII FIlS' SAKE. 'Tis happiness to love our work For its And could we always, none would shirk Or dread to wake. sake, But life is long, and we may cease To love our tusks ; Illusions past, the sober days Throw off their musks. ;ith averted eyes And faded bloom ; The spirit (pin ils and almost dies Before their gloom. They front Ah ! then we learn work has no worth For its own sake; And sordid all the tasks of earth Till love partake. For, truly, only love our lives Can worthy make; And he is happiest who most strives For others' sake. and one angry life. ns was -ftüscflhtucons. 'HP Mrs. Chester's Diamonds. "Well, mv dear," said Mrs. Chester, rubbing her plump, white, little hands until the rings that e sparkled like dowdrops in the morning sunshine, "we've got a splendid day tor our journey, haven't we? Its ulmost like Indian summer." Clu»*a Champfort, Mrs. Hyde Chester's sitting by the win dieted them when he have race most with Then ''companion," w dow, thoughtfully watching tho yellow sunshine creep across tlie pavement.— a tali, pale girl, with heavy «ho w black hair, deep hazel eyeB, and com (he outlines of a plexion colorless as Greek statue—u girl full of odd, peculiar rhom the ser character, concerning talked mysteriously; and whom old Scotch housekeeper hesitated not to pronounce "uncanny." Jlyda Chester liked her, and Mrs. Iiydo Chester's will was law in her own home hold. *'I wish you would not go to-day, Mrs. Choster," said Miss Champfort, abrupt vants the But Mrs. iy. ••Not go to-day ! Why, bless my heart alive, child, what do you mean ?" ''I had a dream last night—oh, such a troubled dream, with blood in it and the shine of daggers, and a man's face, dark and square, with overhanging brows and a cast in one eye! And the darkness seemed closing, closing round you and me, and, somehow, the diamonds were sparkling through it all!" ••Bat aiv dear, what nonsense all this is," said Mrs. Hyde Chester, laughing •• Because you had a had dream last night 1, no reason that we s heuld postpone our journey." "It is a reason, Mrs. Chester. "Now, Clara," laughed the pretty good humored lady, "you are really get ting too absurd for anything. "Mrs. Chester, I never dreamed such a dream as ihat once before, and then i*-" at "Then what happened ?" Clara Chauipfort'B voice fell to a wins per. I tile night before my poor tied out to visit a sick "It was father was summo patient. The night wasdark and stormy The horse, missing Ins road, wandered tlie edge of tho old stone-.uai ry woods, aud both were dash too near in Waustone ed in pieces." Mrs. Chester's pale; but «lie clung own theory. chesks turned a little resolutely to her tho merest dear Clara, it was "My Cb "But,"Mrs. Chester, you will at least let me persuada you to send the jew# s by some hand ?" nn, ov "Nonsense, Clara, why should I? lb y will ho a great deal safer with 1 want to give them to Geraldine myself the evening before sho is There's another good reason for not postponing our journey; I want the evening for a good chat with my favonte niece, instead of arrlvingjust ut the la niinuto before the oeremony. Clara looked wistful and unuoti but she said no more; and M™. Hyde Chester sat down to the breakfast tab e, odor of broiled haul aiose in whence the a most appetizing manner. Mrs. Hyde Chester's niece, Miss Ger aldine Raymond, waste be married the next day betone; and Mrs. Hyde Ches ter had set her warm, impulsive heart on being present at the ceremony; and moieover, on presenting the bride with a very beatiful set of diamonds, which, with their antique case of dark green morocco, lined with sandal wood scent ed satin, had descended from generation to generation in the Chester family, un til the present inboritraix of the having no daughter of her own, had re solve 1 to give it to her favorite niece.— Nor were all the unfavorable omens per taining to Champfort's dream sufficient discouraging to proven ther from carry ing lier determination into instant cution. "I never was superstitious," said Mrs* Chester, laughing; * and I don't mean to begin now. Are the trunks and things all ready, my dear?" ''Yes, ma'am, they are all ready." ''Then, I suppose, we may as well or der the carriage. I can't bear to be bo liimlhnud at a railroad station. Look ! you see I carry the diamonds in my own morocco traveling bag, so they can not possiby be stolen. Does that content you?" "Only half, Mrs. Chester," said Clara, smiling a very faint, indistinct kind of a shadowy smile. Mrs. Hyde Chester, a bustling kind of a person, wns not satisfied until they were at the station, had purchased their tickets, and safely bestowed themselves >ii the train. name, exe Clara Champfort was leaning against the window, idly watching the hurry ing throngs as they perpetual^' came and went, when suddenly she withdrew her face, with a low cry. "Mercy upon us child !" exclaimed Mrs. llyde Chester; "what's the mat ter?" "The faco—the very faco I saw in my dream! ' Claracaid, her own face blanch ed like that of a dead porson. "Oh, Mrs. Chester, it is not too late for back yet !" "Do you moan —" "I mean that he passed the window —with the durk, square face, to turn just and the beetling brows, and tho cast in one eye. Oh! Mrs. Chester, our Pate is following us in his sliapo !" "Clara," said Mrs. Chester, as nearly angry as she could over bo, "I never such ridiculous superstition in my life. Do keep your signs and omens to yourself; you fairly makeiny blood run cold." "But Ike diamonds," muttered Clara, ns if speaking to herself; "their glitter was interwoven through it all. It must list be that he watoliod you bo—yes, it when you got them from the bank—that he is on our track !" "Clara, hush ! I tell you I will not have it !" And Mrs. Hyde Chester's fair, plump race actually looked, for the instant, al most pale. Clara turned toward her with an eager, wistful glance. "We go as for as Terriswode by train. Then Terriswode is twolve miles from Daingerfield?" "Yes—we take that conveyance a thence." "What kind of a road is it?" "Very wild and picturesque." "And lonely?" "Yes," Mrs. Chester admitted, almost unwillingly, "it is a little lonely." "Do we pass over it by daylight ?" "Mostly, if tho train is in time." "Itwill noth» in time to-day," said Clara, quietly. "Clara, how can you toll ?" "I don't know; but I am quite sure ef a "I don't know; but I am quite sure ef i*-" "I wouldn't have my head full of Old World notions as you for its weight in gold, Clara Champfort," said the elder any, trying to repress a little shudder, which, in spite of herself, would thrill through lier frame. But Miss Champfort, stange to say, was right. The train, due at Terriswode at five, did not arrive until some min utes after six, owing to tlie delay conse quent upon repairs on the line. "I knew it," Baid Clara quietly, while Mrs. Hyde Chester stored ot lier, al most beginnig to believe that the old right, and Clara was housekeeper Champfort was "uncanny. several rusty equipages There were waiting at the out-of-the-way little rail road station to carry passengers in vari ous directions; and Mrs. Hyde Chester the most civilized looking of all to carry herself and her young engaged them companion to Daingerfield. "There," whispered dura, as she took her seat beside Mrs. Chester, "did you see that man glide past on the platform ? I told you he was following us !'■ Mrs. Chester stretched her plump neck, but she oould only see the back of the passer's head. ••After all," she said, argumentative ly "a railroad station is free to all." Clara did not answer, bat leaned back in the vehicle. .... ,, Mrs Hyde Chestor chatted merrily, as thov rolled along over tlie uneven roads; but Clara answered hut in tio mood for con versa s y 1 e, in country little—she was U< TlIo November night, chin m,d star ' teas had closed quite dark over the glen Of the autumnal copses, as they began ascend the long, wooded hill that lay between Terriswode and Daingerfield. Both ladies, wearied with their long tourney, wore quite eilent Mrs Hyde Chester had fallen into a doze, whon sho suddenly roused by tho vehicle com jug to a full stop. to was so "Dear me," said Mrs. Chester, sitting upright, "what can be the naatter?" "I'm sorry, ma'am," said the Jehu, his face appearing as it were, in a black foam, at the window of the equipage, "but we've broke down." "Broken down 1" "Yes'm, it's—the axle tree broke clean in halves. "But can not you mend it?" "Not unless I had the tools, ma'am, and there ain't a shop this side o' Terris wod e." "But what are we to do? We can't stay here all u 5 ght. We must walk the rest of the wav to Daingerfield." "It's six miles, ma'am, and a mortal bad road." "But what else can we do ?" "You might, stay at Toby Wooden's just beyond—don't you see the light a twinklin ?" "Is it a public house?" "Well, no ma'am, not exactly, but they does take folks in when they git 'em. And I could ride back to Ter riswode and get another tlirap, and* you'll be at Daingerüeld in good time in the morning." "Oh, dear," said Mrs. Chester, des pairingly, "I wish now that I had fol lowed your advice, Clara. I shall not reach Daingerfield to night, after all." Toby Wooden's proved lo be a ruin ous old farm house built on a hill side in the wood, and distinguished mainly by its high peaked roof and dilapidated porch. "Well, I «'pose T kin take ye in," was Mrs. Wooden's puzzed rejoinder to their potilion for a night's shelter. "There's the upstairs chamber—Simeon can take the seed corn out. We've got two men here a'ready, and-" "Two ly. "What sort of men ?" "One of 'eui's Dan Gilbert, the peddler; and t'other's a likely fellow enough. I dou't know what he is, but he squints <1 red lui bad with one eye." Mis. Hyde Chester could feel Clara's grasp tighten on her arm, with a sort ot nervous energy. "I knew it—I know it!" she whisper od eagerly. "Oh, Mrs. Chester, do not let us come here—do not let us tempt our fate. We had better sit in the carriage all night." "In tlio carriage, indeed ! What non sense !" cried Mrs. Chester. "Show us upstairs at once; Mrs. Woodon, please. I am nearly jolted to death in that hcr rid concern." I ?" interposed Clare, eager less a ries and the I is A silent- a . The apartment, from which a tall, lean-jointed youth was at that moment removing a general chaos of "seed-cars" of corn, was by no means inviting. A dropsical featherbed, piled np"on a high bedstead, and a three-legged wash stand together with one or two cane-bottomed chairs, completed the furniture of the room—a mournful contrast to Mrs. 01 Hyde Chester's elegant suito of apart ments at home. But she was very tired, and, withal, determined to bo pleased, if only out of contradiction to Clara Champfort. Clara, full of vague fears, kept the light burning as long as the slender 'dip' of tallow would last, and then by the stormy moonlight, watched the luckless door, in agony of apprehension. Nor was her apprehension entirely the gruy dawn of groundless; for just tho coming day was blending with the darkness that is alwrys most dense at that hour, tlie latch was softly lifted, and a figure glided in—the figure of a man. Clara lay watching, with her breast til robbing wildly—and at tlie same in stant Mrs. Ilyde Chester, ctartled by the creaking of a loose board in the floor ot the room, wakened. Her first impulse was to utter a pierc ing soream; but Clara's hand was her mouth in all instant—Clara's firm grasp was holding her down. The figure glided directly toward the leather reticule which Mrs. Hyde Ches ter had taken the precaution to conceal beneath the hangings of the window, loosened it noiselessly by means of a bunch of skeleton keys which ho pro duced from bis pocket, and abstracted something, after a moment's noiseless search, with which be witdrew, ly a ghost. Not until his last footstep died away on the stairs, did Clara take lier guardi. an hand from Mrs. Chester's mouth. al i-i of "Clara why did you stop me ! Why did you not let me give the alarm? cried M re. Chester, springing from the bed in dismay and consternation. "Did you wish to be murdered in your bed ?" "Murdered? What mean you ?" Mrs. Hyde Chester's blood ran cold. "He carried a long knife. I saw it shine in the starlight once. Hush !" Clara was gazing intently from the window. "Come here, Mrs. Choster." Mrs. Hyde Chester crept tremblingly to her companion's side. "Look !" And Clara pointed out a dark figure stealing across the meadow, in the in distinct light, toward the woods tliutlsy beyond. "He is gone," she said, with strange calmness, "and en, we are safe !" "But my diamonds !" Mr«. Chester had hurried toward the open traveling bag which lay upon the floor beneath the dressing-table, and her paiuful surmises proved correct— tho morocco case was gone «he uttered v low exclamation ol des pair. ? of hut ' lay long sho com are safe—thank heav "Clara, Claru, how can you stand there so calm ?" "Because I have reason to be calm.— Compose yourself Mrs. Chester. The diamonds are safe under iny ^pillow. * foresaw this—I read it all, in the dim foresliadowings of my dfcani—and, when you were asleep, I unpacked the jewels from their case, and secured them. Let the thief goon his way. The green morocco case, though in itself a precious treasure to the antiquary, will hardly recompense him for his waste of time and manœuvers.'* Mrs. Hyde Chester clasped Clara to her heart, with a burst of tears, which proved an inexpressible relief to her overcharged feelings. When daylight once more reddened over the hills, Mrs. Chester and Miss Champfort renewed t .eir journey, and had the gratitication of presenting the precious parure of diamonds to Miss Geraldine Raymond two hours bofore tlie ceremony which transferred the blooming maiden into a demure little wife. "But if it hadn't been for Clara, dear, rould havo them, safe and you nev sound," said Mrs. Hyde Chester. "Mind I don't believe in dreams, but certainly that was the most unaccountable ooiu cidence in the world !" cidence in the world !" THE REJECTED SUITOR. BY PAULINE J. ARDEN. Agatha Somers sat in the cheerful morning room, gazing out into the gar den, while an expression of perplexity sat upon her brow. Her father entered the room and sat down near her, and scanned her face, and u sigh escaped his lips. "Wherefore that sigh, *ather ?" "Agatha, I see the struggle that is go ing on in your heart, and I would fain assist you to decide this momentous question, but I dare not. Philip and Richard both asked me for your bund in marriage, and I told them you would decide the affair us tho one most con cerned. Do not decide hastily, but ex amine your heart and discover whose image is there enshrined. The marriage relation is the most sifeMd of all earthly ties,and should not bo entered into until are convinced that the man of your choice is all that you desire in a hus band—your ideal of a true man. less you have fouud that one, don't be in a hurry to marry. When a woman mar ries hastily, without becoming thor ghly acquainted with lier husband's character, she is almost invariably dis appointed. »Study well your own heart, and the the mail of your choice is all your soul requires in a husband; one in whose honor you have unbounded confi dence." Un 01 « ,ts of your nature, and see if lie arose and left her alone te think. "I cannot love a man that I cannot re spect, therefore I must choose a husband that will command the respect and es teem of all; a man that would scorn to stain his character by a mean, low act; a man that would spunr with the utmost contempt the idea of doing anything that would call a blush to an honest man's cheek; a man whose noble soul would aspire to only that which is pure, high-toned and elevating. Oh ! I could worship such a man next to God ! but, all, me! the human heart is deceitful above all things, and the cloak ot hypoc risy is too often worn to conceal the hid eousness of moral depravity. How can I decide—oh, kind father! liow can I distinguish the real from the sham ?— Richard Andre is apparently a model young man, but tho bright side of a young mail's character looks dazzling and pleasing enough until the dark side is displayed to detract from its splendor. A man that will do right in the blazing snnlight, and stoop to sully his charac ter by debasing sins committed behind the veil of darkness, is not the husband for me. Philip Tasso" she said slowly, as though weighing him in the balance, "is—is—well, if I were to leurn that he is a villain, my faith in man's honor would be terribly shattered, if not utterly de stroyed." "Letters for you, Miss Agatha," said he lay lier to "D?ar, dear Philip, my heart yearns toward you, and I know that you are a true man, for surely a countenance so full of frankness, candor, and truth, could not screen a base heart. I know that your uoblo mind aspires to some- ' the maid. She took tho two envelopes in her hand and recognized tho chirography of Richard Andre and Philip Tasso. Her hand closed caressingly over Philip's letter, and she pressed it to her heart, while Richard's she tossed carelessly aside, telling, more plainly than words, that Philip was dear to her. «he opened the envelope carefully, as though she wes loth to mar it, and with a fluttering heart, she reud : "My Dearest Agatha The spirit of love prompts me to write to-day and tell you how dear you are to me. I have studied your character well, and I find only the pure and beautiful inscribed thereon. 1 know that you are living a pure, noble, beautifuf life, and as such a true woman onlj' will I ever call by that name, I ask you to become the dearest one on earth to me—my wife. Do not. deem me presumptuous in aspiring to your love, in return for which I oiler you the life-long devotion of "PniLip Tasso." 1 thing beyond tbe glitter tUid tinsel o outside splendor." She sat gassing demurely at the long sunbeams that lay across the carpet like a path of gold, wandering hand in bend through tbe grand air-castles that her imagination erected, with Philip Tasso. At length her eye rested on Richard s letter, and hastily tealing it open, she read its contents. "Oh ! the miscreant! the base hearted weak-minded fool ! Surely his sins have found him out, and I see him as he sham; a miserable excuse for a is man !" As she uttered these words an expres sion of contempt sat upon her face, but it gradually faded away and one of com passion came in its stead. "llis heart is bad, and I would never marry such a man; yet his poor soul is immortal, and from the bottom of my heart I pity him, poor erring mortal, and I pray he may forsake his evil ways." She w'ent to her room and wrote as fol lows; "Dear Philip:—C all this evening at seven, aud receive your answer. "Agatha Somers." When Mr. Somers came home to din ner she allowed him to read the two let ters she had received. "Well, Agatha, I presume this settles the affair. All of this goes to prove that an empty barrel makes the most noise. Richard is one of those who have the knack of attracting attention by his con stant flow of small talk, his witty repar tee; and yet let one of superior intelli gence attempt to draw him out, and he would And him shallow-brained, his theories weak-kneed and ill-jointed; but so goes the world, and man plods along, learning some things by experi ence that ho can learn in no other school." school." Evening came, and at seven Philip Tasso wns ushered into the parlor where die of Agatha met hirn with welcome, and when «he laid her hand tenderly, trustingly, in his, and looked shyly into his questioning, blue e3 T es, n flood of joyful emotions suffused his face, and he drew her to Ills heart and reverently kissed her blushing face. A short time after Mr. Somers found them sweet to ti to or as to Ritting on tho divan, hand in hand, and he exclaimed : "Good evening, Philip; receive a fa ther's blessing, ch ; ldren,and I pray y may prove helpmates, indeed, tor each other, for there are, indeed, many temptations thrown in tlie paths of the young. But hark ! there goes the bell. Come, Philip, we are to have private theatricals this evening, cud we are to be tho only auditors." Before Philip could comprehend his meaning, he had seized his arm, and drawn him into an alcove. "Be quiet and watch and listen," said Mr. Somers, mysteriously. Richard Andre was announced, and advanced into the room, while a win ning smile lighted up his otherwise ex pressionless face. Quarter of an hour passed away, and he arose and sank gracefully upon his knees at her feet, saying : "Darling Agatha, idol of my dreams, I lay at your feet my hand, heart and for tune. Will you be my own uarling wife." A soft, rippling laugh bubbled from lier lip«, and waving lier hand, she said: "Arise, Mr. Andre, 1 pronounce your acting perfect." "Agatha, idol, angel, don't trifle with my poor, pleading heart. Can't you how I suffer—how this suspense is wringing my heart?" "I can't say that I do," she replied, coolly. "You are cruel, my darling, and yet a human heart bleeds at your feet. Be merci lui, and end this susponse, love.— Will you be mine?" "Mr. Andre, I cannot accept the gra cious boon you oiler me—I cannot be your wife." "Oil 1 merciful heaven ! Can it be that the sunlight of bliss is forever hidden from me?" he exclaimed, tragically. "Don't lament, deorsir. See, you havo Ahe moonlight left," she replied, pointing to an opeu window. He arose and stood calmly before her, and looked down into her dark eyes. "Agatha, I w*as mad enough to hope that you loved mo, but I'm aroused at last, and know that henceforth life for me will be an empty farce; and since I cunnut win your love, allow me the hap piness of dying at your feet." Ho drew a pistol from his pocket, placed the muzzle over his heart, and the next instant the report rang out, and utt' ring a deep nioau he sank upon the floor. Philip rushed frantically from the al cove, closely followed by Mr. Somers. "Oh, my God ! this is too terrible ! He is dead! and oh, nierciful Heaven ! you the cause of it, Agatha," cried Phil ip, stricken with horror. "Don't blame me, dear Philip, I could uot prevent it," she said, demurely, while a smile lurked in the vicinity of her mouth. A group of domestics gathered around the door, and Mr. Somers knelt beside Richard, and examined bis pulse. "Agatha, oh ! Agatha, how can you sit beside his corpse and smile? Alas! I was deceived in you, when I thought you little below the angels." a "He is not dead !" cried Mr. Somers, so "Jim, bring hot water—hurry !" "l didn't know thut hot water was beneficial in such cases," said Philip— ' great, honest-hearted Philip, a "Neither do I* yet I am going to try an experiment. No matter if it does scald his moustache otfj it will only bring him back to life." Jim brought the wntei, and Richard moaned, while a sodden trembling aeiz him. Mr. Somers dashed a little of it on his face, and the effect was magical, lie threw up his arms tragically, open ed his eyes, and the word "ouch !" es caped bis lips. *'YV-h-a-t does this mean ?" he asked feebly. "I thought I would arouse you. Isn't it glorious to be an actor life?" Mr. Somers said, maliciously. Richard stared at him blankly. "Oh! don't feign ir nocenc«, young man. This sene is about played, aud we will excuse the prime actor.'' The rejected lover arose, Beizod his pis tol, and left the room, looking rather cowed. "Philip, he is not my victim, after all; and now can yon forgive me for my shnre in the late scene?" "I am bewildered. I feel like one in a dream," he replied. "Allow me to read this note, and per haps it will relieve your mind of all ap prehensions." She drew Richard's letter from her pocket and reud : tlie stage of "Dear Chumî— I received your let tor some time ago, aud seize my first op. portuuity to respond, but as my mind is wholly occupied with the subject of matrimony, I can think of nothing else. "The elite of this little two wheeled, four by six town think me a model young man, thanks to the art of decep tion. I have baited my tnutrimonial hook to catch a golden fish. She is the only child of old I)un Somers, and he's as rich as a fool, and Agatha—well she's proud aud starchy, aud I think I've made a good impression heart. her soit 'I wouldn't have any doubt in regard ccoss if Phil Tasso were in the lie's to my bottom of the lied sea—hang him. ti e coolest hoaded follow I ever knew! one of tlie saintly fools that arc too proud to tell a decent lie. He won't even hon or a saloon with a glance, but turns his faco away as he paysess one, so as not to inhale the perfume of the old king alco hol. But 1 will cbeckmaie him yet, and as the duns are beginning to come thick and fast I must bring matters to Women are soft brained fools, and I am ike ono to teach thou* a lesson. "I'll propose this evening, and if she rejects me I'll commit suicide (with a paper wad) and fall at her feet. She will then throw herself upon my defurc 1 body, kiss my pale lips, and inq lore to come back to life for her, mad of course I'll come. Isn't it glorious to be such an able actor on the stage of life ? "But such things will play out; I've worn my moral cloak so long that it is getting threadbare, and if I don't secure the heiress soon, it won't conceal tlie dark spots of my character. If old Som ers gets an inking of my 'ten nights in a bar room,' it will be 'good by, Joku' with me. "Yoti must hold yourself in readiness to be first groomsman, as I shall call shortly to act in that capaci upon y< tv. I "I'll write anon and give you the de tails of my proposal. Yours truly, "Richard Andre." "This letter was addressed to me through carelessness, and thereby the true character of the wretch was disclos ed. Can you now forgive me for smil ing over his*supposed dead body. Mr. Somers wisely left them alone, and Philip seated himseif beside her, and raised her hand to his lips. "Dear, brave little woman, can you pardon my cruel words!" "I have nothing to pardon, dearest and truest of men. You stood the test nobly, and had you exulted over your faRen rival, my faith in your truth and worthiness would have been shattered. I doubt whether I am worthy of your love, but I will try to be in the future," she replied, pulling his moustache mis chievously. And that moustache was neither black brown, or blondj, but red; and Agatha thiuks it« the loveliest in the world, and never refuses to have it brought in con tact with her mouth, for lie is her hus band now, and the dearest,.kindest, aud sw eetest man in tlie world. An Indianapolis pspor relates how a woman discovered toe secrets of tlie Odd Fellows, and the consequences that fol lowed. It says :—Georgo Staats, Janitor of Odd Fellows' Hall, Indianapolis, hav ing charge of tho private books and works of the Order of Odd FeUpws, has been tried and expelled from that body, charged with allowing a woman, named Mrs. Pillbeuu, to witness the initiation of three • tubers, by concealii. g her in an alcove adjoining the ball, designed for the orgun, and curtained off from the entrance through the main hall. To keep the secrets which had came into her possession, sho demand $500 from the janitor, which he refused to give, in con sequence of which she gave the informa tion w hich led to hi« trial by a commit tee of Odd Fellow's, and expulsion. _,_ At Long Branch, Monday, Josephus Newings was knocked down aud run -'hilo trying to stop a runaway over team, and so badly injuied that he died in two hours. "Working for dear life" is define be making clothe« lor a now' bab [Written for the He aid.] A BARBEROTN NKETCH. Bt JOHN VOSS. "But since no reason cab confute ye'/ I'll try to /ore« you to your duty." —Jfudibrasi In tho vicinity of Third and Chestnut street«, a locality, yclept tho "Bafbary Coast," from the fact, perhaps, that 'tirf there that "shavers" most do congre • gate, a skilful knight of the razor hold** his diurnal "lathering'* levees, and with master hand mows whole acres of hir sute stubble from the chins of his marous customers. A day of t vo ngb, Î dropped [for he abides below the pave,) in upon "Cœsar Augustus," to place myself under his expert manipulation#, and doffing coat and bat, soon had the polished blade rattling swiftly o'er the uneven surface of my unshorn cuticle* Perched upon a chair at my loft band, a burly specimen of the r/tnus homo wi having the last artistic touches applied to a huge and brisli ng moustache, the original color of which was evidently a brilliant red, but now itsobon blackness vied with the raven's wing; and When he arose from his seat and, by the aid of a friendly mirror close at band, surveyed it thoroughly from every standpoint, lie appeared to be perfectly charmed by tbe transformation; his self satisfied air Wäa calculated to cause all those whose locks wore of the Solferino hue, to cry aloud» "Dye one ! dye all ! dye nobly !" "liow much'll yez be afther chargin' fur thot same?" demanded lie of the moustache, in that peculiarly classic di alect which at once betrayed his Grecian origin. "Thirty-five cents, sah 1" politely res pited Civsar. "Phot's thot yez said ? Thirty-toive eint«; do yez take me for a bhroker, a ruillionair, or a dom fuie ! «hure, I niv er in all my born days paid more nor fif teen cints befoor—tin cints for the black« ' foive for the shuve—an', begorra. I'm not goin' to sliwindled by the loikos you or any ither nagur !" "Dut am our reuular charge, call— twenty-five tents for tie opaque applica" .. shun on de lips, sah, and ten cents for do removal ob de capillary. All de prüfe» sors in dis naborhood charge do sniiio, sah, and Use in honor bound to sustain to sustain tho rules ob de profoshioii; bo sitles, no genVnïn ebber dejected to deni reasonable ter "Who the divil said I waz aginthle liion? Hadn't yez betlher wait until I lay clai Oneyiiow, all I ax is fur yez till take the fifteen cints, let me off, I her standiif there, showin' yer ivories loiko a chessy cut. Divil a w in av me'll iver giv yez thirty foive tints fur that yez kin jist make your mind nisy î befo', sab." till tho doubful distiiicshun ? ' don't be af j'>b. upon that score, mi honey." "l'se perfeckly calm, I is—calm ns it »turnin' in May. I golly, you'll find, sab, dut dis chile has do audacity to ad here to the 'riginal claim—thirty-five cents—and not a red cent less, sah, shuah's yer bo'n. Look yeah, Mr. Wkut's-yer-name! I stun' yer, sah, ou de eommutable principles ob justice, an' no airthly power «hill draw yer uncle from do pcsiah; dut's what's da mat ter." ter." "Howld yer whist, ye dirty, black, weazened sphalpeen; there's yer fifteen cints," (throwing that amount upon the table,) "an', be the power« of Molly Kel ly, its all ye'll git off mo, onyhow." With tliatPandeen started for the door but C'rcsor, equal to the great emergen cy, quickly followed, and matching tho jaunty beaver from his brow, bold it aloft as security for the balance. Then» with headlong speed, Hibernia rushed up stairs, cursing the while in Irish most exquisite, and vowing he'd bring down the thunders of tho law upon the closely curled caput of tlie tonsoi iul artist. Whether it was tlie intense rays of the mid-day sun playing upon his uncover ed occiput, or upon a sober second thought he came to tho just conclusion tiiat he had, metaphorically, "put his foot in it," or whether "Consideration like And w'hipped tho offending Adam out Of him." I'm not prepared to state; but certain it is that before "Ctesar Augustus" had ceased sprinkling tbe "popper sauce ' upon my cranium, tbe war-like Greek returned, promptly planked down the deficit sum, picked up his hat that was in "hoe," and leisurely left our presence saying "uiver a word." Phila., Pa., Aug. 1, 1871. angel came, At Bultiin >r , Fcrdin :nd Wi'son, col* o-ed, cUy evening Johnson, has been arrested on suspicion of having committed the murder* Pat rick, alias John Collins,-died on Mon day aft mo< ft, from being struck on tho head by a spittoon by Henry Lntigblin, last Friday, at a beer garden. Lnugblin is unde* arrest. as shot dead on the street, Mon- ■ A colored mart, named A private tetter from an American resident at Para, Brazil, says that the yellow fever there has assumed a very malignant form, and nearly every s ranger in the city has died. The Kng ' lish consul w as dead and his wiftfwas dying. It is better to be laughed at for f.ot Doing married« than to be unable to laugh because yon are. I AdvertibO in the Herald.