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ilWWffl VOLUME 1." NEWTOWN, CONN., OCT. 4, 1877. NUIBER 1C5. JOHN T. PEARCE, Editor and Manager. Subscription Price, SI. 00 A Year. v. v can IJoi' ce. rVBLUBKD ITIWT TIICUDAY, AT NEWTOWN, FAIRFIELD CjUNTY, CONN. A. tt. tow, ftit'r amt rrajt'r. JSaittr and Mmm'r. XsLacrlutiou Price, H.00 A Year. .u AOVBUTIUSU KATES. Iwk. Iwke. liuo. 8laos. 6moe. lyear 10.00 Ji.OO 20.00 26.00 36.00 40.00 I look, , .74 I lull, 1 54 s iuuh, 1-4 Oul SOU 1-2 Col 3.00 1 Col 4 00 1.25 J. 00 3. HI 3X0 4.40 8.00 li.00 340 4 00 4 60 li.(K) 12.00 4.00 7. Oil 0.00 12.00 U.00 20.00 6.00 12.00 14.0V 18.00 22.00 30.00 Upoclal Notice,Tou Cento par llue Brat, and Fi Cents for each subsequent lusortiou. Transient advcrtmug payable iu advance. No dead-beat advertising taken. Yearly advertise menu payable at the end of each quarter. Pro fessional and Busineaa Cards ito occupy not more than five lines $5.00 a year. Regular yearly ad -vortisers, whose bills amount to $10 or over, will receive the paper lreo. PUBLIC INSTITUTIONS. KEWTUWN. POST-OFFICli. MatleOpen: From the South, 11.20 a. m. and .oor.M. Frornthc North, 12.00m. ends. 00 p. a. Mails cloaeiUoina North, 10.30 a. m. and 4.44 p. If. doing boutk, at 11.24 A.M. and 4.44 p. M 2 B. 1'KCK, P.M. CUUUCUES. Teiiott CntracH. Main Street, llev. Newton E. Marble, if. I)., rector, tterviee. 10. So A. at. bun day School, 12 M. Aitenioou service, at 1. CoMousoA-rioNAi. Ma.n Street, llev. James P. Hoyt, pastor. Services 10.30 a. m. buuday School 11,44 A. at. Afternoon Services, 1 p. m. Catholic: Main Street, Hev. Father McCurton pastor, berviuee, 10.14 a. m. buuday bcliool, 12.30 t. M. , SOCIETIES. Oun Bhamch Juvenile Tkxple xo 11. Pub lic meeting every (Sunday afternuou at 6 o'clock, lu South Centre School rumae, ofliceie; lire b N lieera, supt, Miss M F Peck, txc, , Dr. PATatca'a Tempehai.ce Society Kev. rath er James McCartan President, Joun Mooney Vice Preaident, Tuoaias au Secretary, Patrick Cain Treasurer. Nkwtowb Llubabt Ahsociation. K. L. John aon Preaident, Charles Beroaford Vice Preaident, At. F. Feci Secretary and Treaaurer. U. P. pjfc.CU;, Librarian. SANDY HOOK. CHCEUHE3. Methodist. Rov James Taylor, pastor. Ser vices,' 10.30 a. M., 1.30 and . si. auuday school li.45 a. at. Prayer meeting Thursday venina Hr. a. Sr. John's Chapel.-Eev. Francis W. Bar neit aasistaut minister. Services 1 P.m. Sunday School 12 M. SOCIETIES. Gbabitz Lodok Independent Obdeb of Good Templabs: maei In hall over H. L. Wlieeler'a Fumlture Wareroom every Friday evening. Offi cers, 1. P. BlaeJunan, W. C. T, Mrs. W. W. Per kins, W. V. X, Christian Beahler, W. 8., aire. . A. Bennett, W. F. ., Jars. H. L. Wheeler, W. T, Win. B. Terrill, W. M , Miss N. A. Judeon, W. I. ., MissEliaS. Pock, W. O. G, John p. Oriilin, P. w, T. Hibam LOBOl, No 18, F. A. M. Meet in Ma aonic UaU, 1st and 3d W ednesdl j's of each mouth. Ollicers: Wm. I Kandford, W.VI1, John Suudford. br. Wn Homers Croluu Jr. W., James A. Wilson uec't. H. i,. vvneeler, ireaa ana Chapn., wm. Ackley, Sr. Dea., Cheater Hard, Steward, A. W. reluiana, Tiler- Rotal ABca Chaps-bb. Meet Second Thursday oi eacn lnontn. in Masonic rluil. Ulucere: tieo. Vv'otatndeu, U. P., H. L. Wheeler, E., James M. ZtUckuiau, Sciib., Wm. I. bauford, 0 of H-, Jaa A- Wilson, P. S..O. A. Hough, B. A. C. Alpha Jutknii.e Temple No 1. meet in Lodee Itoum over Furniture btore, every Sunday after noon, at 4.30 o'cioce. Alias juia reck, upc. a w Perkins, W C I. TRAVELER'S GUIDE. tNewtown Sl Woodbury Stage Line. Leaves Woodbury at 7.30 a. m., bonthburr at S.So a.m., bouth Britain at a a.m., Beuuett'a Bridire at a. So a. m., Berkshire at 10 a. m.. baudr Hook at 10.30 a. ni. arriving at Newtown to meet the 10.47 a.m. Up Train, and lea vea for Wood bury on the arri'-al of the 11.40 a. in. Uowu Tiaiu, and arrives at Woodbury at 3 p. in., the same time aw the Woodbury and Ueymour stage. tiliOKUia AXLKli, Proprietor. XtwUrnn, Aug. 2d,ls;7. People's Line. I offer my services to the traveling pub'ic, and can be iound at alt mes ready to convey passengers to ai.d from the Derot, or to bandy Wool, aod -Newtown bt. Charges modet ate. Remember tbe "G.'vern.ir," GEORGE kEBSTON E. Nousatonic Railroad. Time Table. To take eft July 10, 1S7T Trains Leave JTnoUivm oin) Jforlh, 10.47 Sl. I .45 l.iu 4. -Sand 7.04 u. iu. 10.47 a. aud 4.20 p. m. trains connect at Brudahuld Juno- tioa with 'trains for baubuiy. Going South, 6.15 and 11.40 a. m., 9.05 and 7.35 p. in. miuuay a raw, p. iu. JVatat Leave HawlegtiUt Going AorfA, 10.57 s s m., 1.20 3.24 4.40 aud 7.20 p.m. 10 a 7 a. m. and 6.40 p. m. trains uuuueut at Drookneid J one Cioa with trains fuv Ltaabury - - . Ooina SoulK S.05 and 11.30 a. a., 4.45 and 7.20 p. in. ounday Milk Train, 7.30 p In jrjij ptopaiijr Railroad. AEaANOBliENT OF TKAIN8, commencing August 13, 18.7. r-MMflVaa TraimM aM ffeviowm at 10.47 a. m and 4. 20p.m. Arrive at lutchneld 2.20 aud 7.5 p. m. Saturday an additional Connection a. made by Xraiu paaviua; Siewtown at 7.b4 p id.. with Train arriving at Litchfield at 10.00 p. m. AVaoaa LUckUld ml a.34 a. m. Monday. L it a. Xft.1 aud a. 80 p m , arriving at llawleyrillt 11.30 a. m. (MiuMiaya 9.10 a. m.) and 7.03 p.m., coa aeeuug with traiua on Hoastttonie R. & AusoViy JfiU: Train learn Lab htleld 4. 49 p. an. and coauiecta witti Hooaatonie Milk Train. C. li. PiiATT, Supt The 3Icndow Spring. "Lauretta llarblmll, wbero liara you been V Tbre wu a despairing emphasis In Mrs. Marshall's Tulce. 8 lis bad let fall the towel with which ilio wu wiping tbe tea cups, and stood a picture of cou steruation and dcspulr. "Only down to the spring mother." "liut look at I hut brau new lawn dress, torn half off you." "The brier hushes did It." Tuuglrl did look rather wofully at the pretty drew half destroyed, hut hud a Hashing, uiiacliievoua, sweet liitle luce thul could, not stay long in ehuduw. "JSever uiind, Ket ; couio here and tell me whut year I bought the while heifer in," said Mr. Marshall, who stood at a desk in the corner making out his quar ter's accounts. Mrs. Mai shall picked up her towel, murmuring despairingly us the girl turn ed toward her father. Two years hist May, father. It was he year 1 wus fourteen," said itet, look ing over her father's work with hia hand on her shoulder. He turned his head and kissed her. "Nice child," he said, approvingly. "Nice child 1" exclaimed Mrs. Mar shall, exasperated. "As if her remem bering about the cuttle was or naif as much consequence as her tearing her dress all to pieces the dress I But up till eleven o'clock lust night to finish. Thoni as Marshall, what do you suppose will ever become of that girl of yours f " Mrs. Marshall always shifted the re sponsibility of the children upon her husband when they showed any Bignsot moral depravity. So Thomas Marshall looked ud at "that girl of his." She was a pretty sight with her hat tipped sidewuy on her curly head, her hulf pout ing, half-smiling rosy little mouth, and her soft, sloe-black eyes turned appeal- iiiKlv upon her father's face. He slbiled upon his girl. He couldn't help it. 'What were you doing down at the spring, Ret f" he said gently. Hath was telling me the legend the legend of the spring, you know, father." 'Where is Iiathburu, and whut is the legend of the spring, daughter ?" Why, he said that ever so many years ago a girl came down me paiu turougu the woods, with a pitcher on her head. to get some water at tbe spring. When she dipped ll$ pitcher in the spring, she saw her face in the water, aud she said to herself : " ' Who ever my true love is to be, Let him look into this spring with me.' And when she was doing that there was a young lord from England riding by on horseback. He saw the girl looking in the water, aud was curious to know what she was looking at. So he got off his horse and came softly and looked in the spring beside her. There be only saw her face, but it was so pretty that he fell in love with her, und afterward idbi ried her. And Kalh says that ever since, if two young people look in that spring together, they will surely marry each other." "Stuff and nonsense I" exclaimed Mrs. Marshall. "X should like to know, Ket, if hearing such Billy stories as that is worth tearing your dress for V But Thomas Marshall laughed. "I'll risk the girl, Sarah," he said while Bet went out at the door. "I'll risk her while she'll tell her father the love stories she hears. She'd better tear her dress than break our hearts with se cret ways. Brother John's girl you know " The mother bowed her head in silence, uud said uo more. Ket stood in the porch watching her brother Huthhurn come down the hill. There wus some one with bim, and w hile she was trying jiurd to make out who it was, "some oue" was as earnestly observing her. He sa'w iu the porch of au old brown, vine-shaded house on a hill, a littie figure in a pink lawn dress, very badly torn, and with a straw hat shading a face that was evidently fair, whiles muss of bruuze curls, swept to one side, fell over a bare, white shoul der. " "What little fairy is that. Rath V ie ( said. 'My sister, ' replied ltatlibarn Mar shall, proudly. "Yon shall have her, Max,'.' he added confidentially. They had been collegians together, Rath Marshall and Max Kinjsley. Max was iust from Europe. The friends had met for the first time for four years. "Is that the little Ret you used to tell about V askdl Max, for they bad been j great confidants to old times. Yes. She was twelve then, she is sixteen now She's a darling, Max I" "1 think it likely. Aud I may have her ?" "Yes j if you cau get bor." "Thuuk you, old boy." The next moment they passed in at tbe door from which Ret bad disappear ed, and to his parents Rath announced: "My old college friend Max Klngsley ; come to rusticate among us for a week or two." It was a frank, good face which the old people looked at a face they were willing to admit to their fireside. Ret came down from ber room in a more presentable dress, and was introduced. That evening Rath repealed again, for Max's amusement the legend of the meadow spring. . The next morning a June sunrise flushed the sky at four o'clock. Max Kinguley awoke, and, aroused by the novelty of arising at that lime in the morning, got up, dressed uud went out- of-doors. Early as it was, a boy was driving u drove of cuttle to the maiket down the long, brown rood, while tbe birds were chorusing in the woods, und the flowers of the fields were all wide awake. He crossed the road and went slowly over the meadows. "The grass was drenched in dew, The lragrant air blew through The honeysuckle brunches That waved about the porch." Half-knee high in the wet clover, he looked back at the house, half bid in honeysuckles and morning glories, to see if there were any signs of Rath or Ret. Was Ruth's pretty sister an early riser ? He wished she wus, and. would share his walk with him. He came to a brook slipping softly through the meadows, and turning, com menced following It to its source, walk ing through the marsh mallows and whit! clover around a knoll, where he found some rare golden violets, and on to a birch wood. Suddenly he heard the shouting and laughter of young ringing voices. Going on quietly, be came suddenly to an open ing, and this scene met his eye as be stood concealed by the bushes. Ret and her little brothers were swing ing on the birches. (And Ret was six teen years old I) Max Kingsley's blue eyes shone with amusement. As his glance fell upon them, Ret was climbing from limb to limb of an old oak tree, not being able, probably, to ascend to the top as did her brother. In fact, Ret couldn't "shin up," but could come down gradually, which she did in Max's sight. High up among the oak boughs, tbe pretty little hoyden grasped she tip of the birch, which, young and lithe, bent slowly with her weight, and down to the ground she descended most royally. Releasing the tree, it sprang back to its ace. That was grand.Charlie !"'she exclaim ed to the bare footed little urchin who was industriously "shinning up" a tall birch. You'd better not let Ruth or that Mr. Kingsley see you !" punted Charlie, half way up. The girl gave a guit k look round "I don't Care for Mr. Kingsley," she said, swinging a bunch of columbine, which filled the air with its fragrance. "You would if you knew what Rath told him," answered Charlie, tugging away. "What was that Charlie?" Charlie, nearly to the top, gave one more writhe of bis supple little body and suddenly dropped his weight from his huuds, ilie tree bent und swung him down to the ground. When hiB little brown feet touched the sorrel, he let go aud the birch lunged back. Charlie contemplated his burning bunds, doubt ful if they were good for another. Ret caught him by the shoulder. ' What did Hath say !"' she cried. "That Mr. Kingsley might have you, answered Hie boy. Ret s pretty face flamed. "Rath hud tetter mind his own affairs and 1 halt Mr. Kingsley 1" Max commenced whistling, and then came slowly sauntering around the sumacs and elderbury bushes. Sud denly he appeared to catch sight of the group Ret and Charlie side by side, uud Charlie chewing birch bark, while Henry, the youngest, was gathering puff bulla, acoius, or pine cones from the ground. . . , Max lifted his hat. Ret, with her fragrant wand, and her pretty face a little paled by excitement, faoed him like a fairy wraith. "A fine morning," he said, taking no notice of her flnshine eyct "Miss Ret und boys, 1 thought I was the earliest riser In the bouse, but you, I see, have beaten me. How fragrant these birch woods are I Charlie, you know the secret of tbe bark, don't you T I used to cbew it In school and get thrashed for it." Charlie's boy heart was won immed iately. He forgt all about the secret he bad overheard, and which seemed to prejudice bis sister so against Max. With bim and Henry the guest Instantly became a fuvorlte. But Ret was another Nemesis. Hardly speaking to Max, she turned around and walked home. Aud henceforth careless, merry, romping Ret was changed to a maidenly young lady. Mrs. Marshall rejoiced in the change, but Ruthburn hardly considered it an improvement when he found that Ret seemed to hold him no longer in confi dence, and his friend not at all in fuvor. Iu vain Max Kingsley tried to win her countenance at leuBt. She would hardly look at him would never smile upon him wus barely civil, and stately as a young Diana. In vain he excercis ed the power of an Orpheus proved himself an Ajux of bravery, a Calchas of wisdom, uu Arion of refined tastes, and an Eacusof piinciple und natural nobility. Ret wouldn't be wooed and won. Bo a fortnight passed away. At last came the time tor Max King sley's return. He had long ago made his way to the hearts of the old people. They were sorry to have him leave. Charlie and Henry wtre bitterly grieved at his departure, and declared it a burning shame'' thut he should go be fore the chestnuts were ripe. Rath came over to the window where Ret wus slauding. "Ret, ain't yon sorry to have Max go away ?" he said, in a low voice. "No," she said, briefly, and turned and walked out of the room. But some thing in her face made Ruth's eyes flush. He turned quickly to Max. "Go find her," he whispered. Max went to the door. Ret had gone. He saw ber little figure winding in uud out through the shrubbery of tbe mead ows. She was walking fast. He followed her, so far behind that she did not hear him, and keepiug from sight, iu cuee she should look back. On he went over the clover and mallows, past the knowl where the golden violets grew, and through the birches. Pussiug through the wood, she sprung over the silent, winding little brook, and knelt down by the meadow spring. Mux thought it place fit for tbe betrothed of fairies. The sunshine fell on the golden sand beneath the crystal water, and the wild pink roses growing beside it were reflected in it. Ret knelt down by the spring. Was she repeating the charm of the place ? Max stole nearer. He was close ut her Bide at last, and she did not see him. Bending over, his face was reflected iu the water, and then he saw what Ret was doing. She was bathing away the tears, or trying to. for they fell us fast as she bathed away their traces. Oh, dear ! oh dear 1" she sobbed, as if Ler heart were breaking. Suddenly she caught sight of Max's face iu the waler.aud stopped breathless. Then she turned ber astonished, tearful face upon him. The young man broke into a low, mery laugh. Ret, Ret," he said, "there Is no use in you repulsing me any louger. Fate has taken the matter in hand. We have looked together in the meadow spring, and you must marry me. For some reason of course it was the work of the charmed place Ret made no more objections.and when Ruth came to find them, two hours later, he dis covered Ihem happily betrothed. So much for the meadow spring. The Trifler's Victim. Slowly tolled the deep-toned bell of the church of M. Louis, while iruui be neath its massive arches issued forth a long funeral procession. By the coffin, covered with white satin, and blazing with ricb silver plates, tbe snow-white plumes of the bearse with its draperies of spotless white, and by the four young girls, who, dre?Bed in white, and wear ing long white veils reaching to tbe ground, each holding in her hand one of the four white ribbons attached to the cofBu, might be known that she whom they were bearing to ber last resting place was youug, while the long train of carriages that followed bore ample lesti owny to the wealth and rank of the de Ceased. The priests clad in their long scarlet tunics, and bearing aloft blazing torches, their company headed by the Rev. Father Antonio de Fedella, passed along two by two, chanting tine mUerere. Slowly the procession wound round the rue St. Limit, aud then proceeding iu a long, unbroken line, entered the ceme tery where the coffin was deposited in the splendid marble vault of the Pascal family, when the priests slowly chanted tho "requiaicattyi pace," aud the circled crowd recovering their heads, left the re mains of Adele Pascal, the young, the beautiful, In their last resting-place. Born of wealthy parents, their cher ished idol, at the same time the darling and pride of her only brother, gratified in the indulgence of every wish, and perfected in every acconiplifhment,Adele Pascal shone the acknowledged belle of every social circle. One of tliose enltm siastic beings who could never be feat is fied with a divided atTection, sensitive aud retiring in her nature, yet withal gay and sportive us a child, "to Bee her wus to love her." Such was Adele Pascal at the lime her parents received a letter from her broth er Charles, then in New Haven, begging permission to invite his friend, Henry Selborne, to accompany him on his re turn to Louisiana. The permission was willingly granted, and soon the two young men arrived at Sycamore Grove, u beautiful Summer residence of the Pas cal family on the banks of the Mississippi. During Charles Pascals four years ub sence within the wulls of old Yale, Hen ry Selborn waB his bosom friend aud the chosen repository of all his joys und sor rows. Selborn was talented and oblig ing, and having received that matter-ot-lact education which most New KuglaBu- ers give their sons that kind of training which tits them to act well their part on life's stage he soon posseesed himself of the warm friendship of the fruuk-heart- ed Creole, to whom bis society became indispensable. When we add to his oth er qualifications to please, a fine person, and peculiarly wiuuing manners, we no longer wonder that one so gentle as Adele, soon owned to herself that Syca more Grove would be insupportabiy dull when he was gone. In general Selborne's attentions to Adele were marked with a frankness that would have prevented any less sus ceptible than herself from thinking that be loved her, but she, poor girl I thus construed them, und soon he became to her, society, friends, the world. Oh 1 could men but know how often their uttentious (slight though they be) are so translated by our sex coulu they but see tbe agony of hopes raised but to be wrecked could they note the flushed cheek, the quivering lip, the "pulses muddeniug play" when a compliment is paid by them, to which, perhaps they at tuch no meaning, or they could on the other hand, see the pillow wet with tears where a sleepless night had followed a slighting word, an a cried look or an exclaunuion of admiration lor another at a time when thoir long continued at tentions hud made tlie kHuusiicm of sucU uo longer a uialler of Uoubl they would hesitate, uor in luturejict the tritler's part. Often a look or a word casually spoken by Selborne would afford Adele hope and happiness, at d aguiu au averted look or an unmeaning titiennou ocaioneu upon another, tortured her sleepless pil low with doubts whether her love was returned. Could she lia,ve seen that it was but his accustomed gallantry, she would have known that he had uo heart to give. Thus days glided into mouths, and still Selborne lingered at Sycamore Grove, a Welcome visitor, while Adele, pleased with the dangerous proximity, lavished her whole wealth of love on him when she wus aroused from her dreaui of happiness by Selborne hurried ly informing liictu that he had just re ceived letters urging his immediate re turn to the i.oith. Alusl for Adele's hopes! So closely enwoveu hud her passion lor him become with every Ihought, that the idea of separation had never occurred as possible, and now the thought was more bitter than death. When Selborne had been absent about two months, her lirother received a letter from him, dated at Saratoga, w here he said he bad met with an old fhune of his buvish davs. Miss Dash fort, a New Haven belle, a young lady whom Char les described as being wealthy and ex tremely beautifuL From this nour the onhappiness of Adele began. Hitherto tbe spoiled -child of fortune, her whole life had been as a bright Summer dream. Sorrow by name alone she knew. Now ber mind was filled with a strange ui.- enainess. turmented by fears (tint "fieii Subdued her to tears. Then ngrtiti !ic would hope on, ami love deeper anl deeper, as the sweet reflection came that bright days might yet be In store for her. And blissful anticipations of his return, of again meeting with him after so much sorrow and foreboding, would steal over her saddened soul, dispelling all gloom, all doubt, all sadness. Those only who have had their dearest hopes darkened, and aguiu suddenly ro-lllumcd can reulize the wild excitement with which Adele heard of Selborne's approch ing return to Louisiana. He came to New Orleans ; but oh I tho agony, the despair of the fond-trusting Adele. ale biought one with him who enjoyed that nume and place which Adele had so fondly hoped would be hers His wife ! the sound rang in 'her ears, the death knell of all ber hopes. She heard of the beuuty and accomplishments of Mrs. Selborne, his bride ; but ber wnrni heart's aspirations haJ been crush ed, and, by the deadly paleness of her cheek, alone might be read that the sun of her earthly happiness had set. As Autumn approached an alarming cough was noted by her physician as tho premonitory of consumption, for such was her malady miscalled by those who understood not that other disease a bro ken, heart ; and in less than two months the tiifler's victim had passed from this to another and a happier world. Alas 1 for the bitter requital too often given for a woman's love. Sagacity of a Connecticut Dog, Our neighbor Chauncey Hart has a dog that is remarkable for his apparent knowledge of the English language, it his owner's statement about the dog n true and as to veracity there is no quca lion. Mr. Hurt is a blacksmith by trade, and lias au acre or so of land which he cultivates, aud during the season of hoe ing he rises at about four o'clock in the morning to subdue the weeds. . His dog is always with him. When the time ar rives for waking a fire to prepare the morning meal, Mr. Hart goes into the house, makes the fire, and says to the dog, "Go call your mistress."' He goes immediately to the bedroom and wakes her. If she does not notice the call, the dog will pull tbe clothing off the bed, and will not leave until she gets tip. If Mr. Hart sees a pack-peddler coming, he says to the dog, "Carlo, there is a pack-peddler coming." He will stait off at once, and prevent his coming on to the premises. On another occasion Mr. Hart walked over to a neighbor's house just as the neighbor came home with some bones ho had procured for his chickens und threw tbem out of his wagon. Carlo got one of them and brought it near where they were talking. When Mr. Hart saw it he said, "Carlo, that bone don't belong to you ; go carry it back where you found it, and go home." Carlo curried the bone back to the place where he got it, trotted off about ten rods toward home and sat down waiting for his master. The neigh bor also had a dog of about the same size that was iu hearing. Seeing Carlo where he had sat dowu, the other dog picked up the bone und carried it to within a lew feet of Carlo; there he laid it down and cume back a little viay. Af ter waiting a while and seeing that Carlo did not lake it, he placed it a little near er, came back as btfore, aud waited for Carlo to tuke it : but Carlo would not. The third time the hone was placed near er very close to him this time but he would not touch it, but sat there until Mr. Hart went home. When . he came up to where the dog was sitting he said, "Carlo, you may have that bone now. 11 The dog immediately picked it up and carried u home. Nothing was said to cither dog but the order to carryback the ooue. nut ootu uogs seemed to know what was said; the visited dog was de termined that Carlo should accept the proffered bone as u pledge of iiiendslim and as a hospitable entertainment Vit- wntvie (Conn) Letter to Hartford Timet. Giving Advica. .' Advice is a first-rate thing when the person knows whut he or she is talking aoout. liut there a.c volumes of advice uud council !.!; are utterly useless, be cause it is simply the result of an uncon trollable de-ue to say something what, makes no difference. Advice, to be wurth anything, needs to be matured in the mind before it is uttered. It is alto gether belter, however, as a rule, to at tend to your business and let other peo ple's alone, unless you are invited iu in terfere. Public men are especially the victims of tbe advice given. All men and women in the world think them selves fi led upon to give a man who happens lo he in public life a sort of ad- . vice, seeming entirely to tone sight of the very uuriaiit fact that auy who has mind eiwugli ! altr ict any considerable .-hare l puldie attention probably has cu.Migh lo uian g- liia owa atfairs. Get jvUT i u aiiairs iu good shape and keep Ihem in n and do but waste so much uf hie in luuking alter other people.