OCR Interpretation

The Herkimer Democrat and Little Falls gazette. (Herkimer, N.Y.) 1869-1876, February 02, 1876, Image 1

Image and text provided by New York State Library

Persistent link: http://nyshistoricnewspapers.org/lccn/sn83031101/1876-02-02/ed-1/seq-1/

Thumbnail for 1
-*PHE •ppRT,TgTTR» ETBSY WEDIffEaPAY. O. C. W I T b S k ST IN e ' & SOH, EDITOKS ANB PJROPRIETOaS. S g i r 3 . SATES O f ADVESTISIKQi i i s s s t e ^ = l i y S S S f e s s s B One square, six montlis„.. Onesqaare. one year — . (TWI 1 I.VB MNKStAK I liberal di£ ▲QtTABX^) S i be madetotbosf s p e c i a l K OT 1 ^ s. VEGEtiNE P u r if ies t h e Blood, R e n o v a tes a n d In v ig o r a te s t h e W h o le S y s tem . Xts fUtedical Piroperties are ALTERATIVE, TONIC, SOLVENT AND DIURETIC. VEQeTiKE is made esclasively from tlie Jaices ofcarefully'Selocted barks, roots and herbs« and 80 strongly concentrated, that it will effectually eradicate frombe t system every taintofwcrofida, Sccofalone Hiuaeir, Tumors, Cancer, Cancer* jErysipeias^ Salt RHeam* iSypIiilit- ic Diseases, Cutber, faintness a t the Stom* ach. and all diseases that arise from im pure blood, isciatica.. tnfiammatory and Chronic Rhenm- atiamt'Neuralgia, Goat and Spinal Com. plaints, can only bo effectually cured through the bloo&. > for ITlceraand Eraptive Di Pustules, Pimples, Blotcbe Scaldhead and Kingworm, 1 ____________ er failed to effect a permanent care. ' For Fains in the Back, Kidney Complaints, DropsyiPemoIe WeahnessiXienconhcea, aris­ ing from internal ulceration, and uterine diseases and. .General llebillty. VBGBTrsK acts directly upon the causes ot these complaints. It inTig- nrates and strensthess the whole system, acts upon the secretire organs, allays infiammation, cures ulceration and regulates the bowels For Catarrh, Dyspepsia, Habitual C ness, Palpitation of the PUes, Nervousness and f the Nervous System, I possesses a . „us system. The remarkable cures _ effected by VEaETiKE have induced many physicians and apothecaries TThom we know to presoribe and use it in their ‘‘in faot^^YEQETiNE is the heat remedy yet dis­ covered for the above diseases, and is the only reliable BLOOD PUBIFIBB yet placed before .the public. PREPARED BY H. R. Stevens, Boston, Mass. DEMOCRAT ESTABLISHED 1842.1 X a X ‘X \ Q ( 7 ‘ X a 3 E S 3 F ' A h . X a X a S I tGAZETTE ESTABLISHED 1863 O. C. WlTSEESTllirE & SON, Proprietors. The Union and the Constitution. TER M S !-$2,00 a y e a r . VOLUME H I T . HERKIMER. ¥BDHESD4r FEBRUARY 2 , 1870. .|[IIM;BER-25. f l i c i l l l M . They tell me For in*ite* sWei W had efect^pra the^ystmn.^ ^tfenonrishfn^ and sirensibeninir. It acts directly unon tLe blood. It quiets tbe boftous system. It gives son good, svreefc sleep at sight:. It is a great panacea for our asred fathers and mothers ; for it gives ttiem strength, quiets their nerves, and gives them. Nature's sweet sleep»->as has been proved by many an aged person. It is the great iSlood Puriher. It is a soothing remedy for our children* It has relieved and oared thonsands. It is very pleasant to take: every child likes it. THE MASTER’S CALI. solemn story, but it is not sad sweet unfolding my Smiovr’a lore I They say that any moment the Lord of life may To lift i^^from this cloudland into the light of They say I may have no warning—I may not even hear The rustling of His garments as He softly draweth near; Suddenly in a moment, upon my^ ear may fall The summons to leave our homestead to answer the Master’s call. Perhaps He will come in the noontide of a bright vrhen^wit^d^if^rnes all around me, my life seems bright and gay. Pleasant^uat bathe pathway, easy the shming Up f r ^ ^ h e dimmer sunlight into, the light of Perhaps will come in the stillness of the mild and quiet night, . When the earth is qalmly sleeping 'neath the moonbeam’s silver light; When the stats are softly shining o’er the slum­ bering land and sea, ^ Perhaps in the holy stillness the Master wijl come for me. I think I would rather hear it, that voioe so low and sweet, ■ ■ Calling me out of the shadows my blessed Lord to meet. Up thr^gh the^^owing splendors of a starry \see the King in His beanty” in a land of purer light. rM OLD. . Pm growing old. It needs no glass to tell That age has marked my face with lines My totteringsteps and white hair show too well— By every word and look—old ago is there. My boyhood days, how bright they aOem to me. How brave was I, how valiant and how bold; Xvas Y un of&liot from a. sturdy tree, But age has withered me—I'm growing old. And then myyouth—amid what pleasant dream* I spent the few short years that life began: Youth’s bright sun shed o’er my path its beams— What wonders I would do when once a man. laste that independent life. g>, V egetiite *or f tko complaints for wMck it is recommended, is having a larger sale through-h- .out the United-tates ’ cine. Why ? plainu. - ----------------------- :ger sale throug [ S than any other one medi- Vesetiiie will Cure these Ci V A L U A B L E IN P O R M A T I O N . J ^ B ostos , Deo, 12,1869. with pimples and eruption caused me great pain and annoyance, i lufiT it to be a blood disease..! took ms adverthied blood preparation; any quantity of SaYsaparit any benehtantil I^cpmme ing me ot this acute ci— ___ _ „ _______ suftered so intensely. C, fl. TUCKER. Pas. Ag^t Miot. 0. R. R.. 69 Washinsrton Street. Boston* Tegetine is Sold by all Druggists. “ I t works like a charm.'’^ R l N N E ’iS M A G IC O I L . This is a purely vegetable, general family rem­ edy. Keep it in the house in ease of emergency. TRY IT INTERMALLY. It cures Colic, Cholera Morbus. Diarrhoea. Cramps and Pains in the Stomach, Indigestion. Sore Throat, Coughs. Colds. &c. OSE IT EXTERNALLY. It cures Neuralgia, Catarrh, Rheumatism, Sprains, CnteijBmises, Old Sores, Headache. Toothache, ana in fact almost all the aches and pains human ffesh is heir to. Sold by all dealers in Medicines. _ WM. RENNB & SONS, Proprieters, , ■aug!^ylalt Pittsfield, Mass O b s tacles to M a r r iag e . H a p p y R e l ie f f o b Y oung M e n riage removed. New method of treatment.— New and remarkabler remedies. Books and Cir- Philadelphia, Pa.—an Institution havin;; ahish ition havin^r &igh k adact and profes* may26yl TO GONSUMPTiVES. been per asump- ^rVo‘r i S T s e l tS^eTo'PKrwirth”^ reations for preparing and using thesamo, which t^ y will^find a suee ^C ube Xor GowstrsiBTiox, ; \^OTties w i ^ ^ tffe prwoription will please address Bev, B, A- WILSON. ISI Penn St„ Williamshiirgh, Now York, B R H O R S O F Y O U T H . , A GBNTLEM AH who saffered for • years ,fxom Nervous Debility, Premature . Decay, and alltheeffeotsof youthfulindiscretion will, for the sake of suffering humanity, send firee to all who need it, the recipe and direction for making the simple remedy by which he was oared. Sufferer* wishing to profit by the adver­ tiser’s experience can do so by addressing 'perfect confident- JOHN , ----- dec29m6 EAfiM TO LET! I h a v e a F a r m o f 2 0 0 A c r e s , ^ear mo on the Sea Shore, well adapted to mak- 3g BUTTER AND CHEESE, on whioh I want 0 got a thorough H e r k i m e r Co. C h e e s e - M a k e r . mnstu _______ recommended. janl9w4 Then manhood came, ambition reached at last, I brought a young wile home to share with me The path that seemed with roses broadly oast, Alas, poor fools, the thorns we did not see. Wo both were poor, we had no store of wealti Oar daily happiness was more than gold. Till in our Eden death crept in by stealth— Well, well, she’s gone-and I am growing old. Where are the elves that clnsterod 'round my Where nbi There now ______ their mother— „.***.. ,.a»aaig* VaitiZIM But with a heartihat never oan grow cold Until I meet them in that home Where one and all. we never can grow old. W ANTINSAREVIVAI. If, instead o f wanting a revival, imeQ wanted more of Qiriat them­ selves ; if they had a clearer insight into their own relative worthiessoeas ; if tney were more profoundly humble; it they felt more deeply and cofitin- uously what a privilege it is to be allowed to do the poorest work, iu the poorest place, with the poorest results even; if they had a sense o f divine sympathy that made ther name of <5 h : etsx almost bring tears to their eyes all the time—tbeo they would be iu a condition to work for a revival. In short, those who wonld work for a revival should forget the revival, and work for G od in their own souls. If that deepening personal feeling is ex­ perienced by another, and yoR and that person Comie third and fourth in Com together, and i f a 3au be drawn into if, then you will begin to have drops coming together, and you will very soon have so many drops that a cur­ rent will start, and there will be yonr revival. The beginnings ought not to be so much in the increase of ma­ chinery—though that is not wrong, ^'~iuse machinery has a relation to Iding. Every revival b^ins in a deeper sense o f G od in some soul, and then in some souls. When two or more come together iu that element, a current starts, and that is the begin­ ning of a revival. COMMON LESSONS. Jesus preached from a lily and from a handful of wheat, and from the stones of the temple; and from the vines; and from a coin. Lessons of faith and honor and purity and chanty exhale with the morning dew. Every sunrise is the poem, and every sunset the peroration of a noble dis­ course from God to H is Children.— The mao who feels with, and snffers itb, and smiles with Nature, to hom eyery flower and every grain of sand is a thought of God, and every leaf a note in a continnous coronation song, has an ever increasing resource from which to draw as a wise lover and leader o f souls. As Goethe, says, “ To such there come trooping up out of the meadows and singing down out of the skies thoughts like free children of God, crying out, “ Here we are I Here we are!” TAKE AIO/A’ I C E * T H A T the Undersignei xaany, whfl has boenin^he'mHtldS^tes^o^he last ten years, keeps constantly on band and for . sale a valuable assortment of BraxiiilianPebble- . Stoncs.FineFronohCrystalGlasses, of the best quality; and readily cletenaines from an exami­ nation of the eye the exact number required for thesisrht. Ho tendersbiaprofessionalBervicesto • allwhomaysolieithigassistance Hisoffieeisoa Mmn Street, Little F<^iUs, rborebemay beconsnlted on Monday ofoaob M LEVY. Optician Altomey A Counsellor a l law , OFFTCEs Dacjo HoU with Demosrat & GazcHo Odea • ACpAxt. X X e r l i i x n ^ . A H I 6 H B B HAND. A little boy sat in front o f his father and held the reinR which controlled a restive horse. Unknown to the boy, the reins passed around him, and were also in his father’s hand. He saw oc­ casion to poll one o f them . W ith fiftless simplicity the child turned aronnd, saying, •’ F a ther, I thought I was driving; bat I ’m not, am 1 Thus it is often with men, who think that they are shaping a destiny which a higher hand than theirs is really fashioning. They do their own will, ilsd do th e will o f G o d . A «and guides them^—a might- lolds the helm o f their ve! S i r stronger ban ier power hol< sel, and saves from rook and wreck.- Happy are they who quietly yield J the guidance o f an Aimight> hand Si^^The panishment o f sin and the reward of virtue sometimes seem ex cessive. Hot Is n Jt the punish meat or the reward usuall|' the cons qiience of a long courpe of cuituvi, of the paart cufar act f ' *• rewarded or puniatied h d a very small pars, THE THURSTON PRIDE. “ Raymond Thurston, I believe you are insane,” As Amabel spoke her voice had a sharp quiver o f paiu as well as anger. She was very proud of her brother— proud of his hautlsome face, proud of bis talents—and she considered* he iiall: \ ha SeeioL' her pafiaionate outcry had not moved him, she said, pleadingly; “ Have you no pride left ? You who had all the old Thurston pride once?” “ I have just so much pride left, Amabel,”^ he answered, \ that I can­ not sit here eating the bread o f idler ness another day.” “ You know you are more than wel­ come here.” “ I do know it. I appreciate your husband’s kindness at its full value, Amabel. I hope the day will come when I can prove it, And, sis, 1 am only too tbankfrl that you have his true love and strong arm now, when we have lost so much. Now, darling, don’t try to bold me back from honest employmo\!^ ” “ But, taia som< ^ “ I have been trying faithfully for six months, you know with what suc­ cess. There, don’t look at me so piti­ fully, it will come right one o f these days.” “ I wonder what Bertie Haines will tha’s father a merchant o f standing and influence.\ Aside from this the girl had inherited money from her mother. Altogether, Amabel decided the match would be charming. But ‘ Ray- bad the old sun- ng. a hint to that effect met one o f R« ever si never visited his face shiny days. . “ Never speak o f it again, Amabel,” he said. “ I am no fortune hunter to live upon the money o f a rich wife. I’ll carve out my own .way first.” But carving his own way proved te­ dious work till, desperate at bis many failures, he accepted a position, offer­ ed in jesti of driver to fm express wagon. ” 1 do understand horses,’’ he said, ” if I cannot sell goods or keep books.” It proved hard(er than in tion he had imagined. Not the mere work; that he soon conquered; but the slights, rudeness, and stares of his old friend?. Some few recognized the true nobility that accepted honest la­ bor rather than an easyllependi upon wealthy connections, but t! were few. sep •d work, however, the first flush o f his despera- say when she sees yon perched upon the driver’s seat of an express cart?” Ime the forced corn- id’s face was stirred. For the first time poaure of Rayi A dark red flush crept to his very hair, And he rose and walked up and down the room. Glad to have him moved at last, bis sister said: ** With her aristocratic ideas, and the pride that is inborn in her family, she will never recognize you again, Raymond.” “ Then I must lose the honor o f her friendship,” Raymond said, hoarsely. “ Don’t say any more, Amabel I” A n d unable to bear an y f u r th e r re­ monstrance, he left the room, and a little later the house. The Thurston pride o f which Am a- hel had spoken was stinging him sore* ly, in spite o f the brave face he carried Eo cover it. d e was A man o f twenty- eight, and bis life bad held only the pleasures'of wealth, the opportunities money gives for the development of intellect, for twenty-seven of th«e years. His parents died when he was a boy, and, Amabel, his only sister, fifteen years his senior, married before she was twenty, and gave her brother a home, whenever be wrs not travel- ’- j , or in some seminary or college. W bile he considered himself a rich man, Raymond bad accepted this hos< brary, and her children’s play-room bore witness o f ber-brother’s generosi­ ty. Bat suddenly, w ithout w arning, there iwept over ^tbe country one of cr^hes so )f specula­ tion, and Raymond was recalled from Europe by his brother-in-law, inform­ ing him that bis entire patrimony had been swept away. Investments that had seemed to the young man, igno- > in all business details, as seeure as they were flattering, bad fallen to ruin, and a few hundred dollars only ire left o f what had been a noble for- ■8t Raymond did not realize the extent o f his mistbrtune. H e was still young, and well educated, in perfect health, and certainly the world had ome niche where he could earn an lonest living. But weeks of seeking mployment gave him a keener knowl- dge o f J iis misfortune. Friends who lad been willing to smoke his cigars and drink his wines, who were yet wil­ ling to extend every social greeting, shook their heads when asked to con­ fide any portion o f their businessTto his keeping. Brought up to study, to live a life of elegant leisure, Raymond Thurston at twenty-eight knew absolutely noth­ ing of business, nor had he studied any one branch sufficiently to qualify himself for a teacher. He tried faith­ fully to find some employment, spend­ ing what little remained o f nts fortune with the lavish hand that had not yet learned economy.. 8ociety welcomed him home'after two years of wandering, for Amabel Barclay kept open house for her friends, and Raymond was a favorite in her circle. Her husband, many years older than herself, had leng re­ tired from business with a large income, and while he gave Raymond cordial welcome, had no opportunity to aid in finding occupation. lertha Haines, the friend from whom Raymond parted two years be­ fore, in this renewed intercourse be- ca.me to him moce than ever was Daend before. They had not thought of love in the days when tho girl was a ante society and Raymond, one o f ita fatorit® beaux; but when they met after the long parting, some new emo­ tion stirred both hearts. They did not know what made the hours pass BO quickly when they were together, nor recognize the subtle charm that dwelt for each in the othey’s presence, for maoy a week. Raymond was the first to awaken to the knowledge that love was the charm that bound him to Bertha’s side whenever she wae present; that it was love that made her eyes, the dark, sparkling eyes, so beautiful in their ex- ptos-iou; that love tuned her voice so ittn?icaily, lunv luvt* made her tbedear- al «< me.. !U hia A week passed,-when one m o rning, delivering some goods at one o f the most fashionable stores on Broadway, as he went out, Raymond saw Bertha Haines opening the door of her low carriage. An impulse made him start forward to baud her oat, only to draw back' crimson with confusion^ and dropping tho hand he was „ raise his bat. The sweet musical voice he loved, spoke a t oned: “ Please, Mr. Tharston, help me with this obstinate door. It will stick.” H e went forward, then, with all the easy grace of manner that bad ever marked his intercourse with ladies. The little gloved band was extended to meet bis as she thanked him. “ It is too bad you are engaged she said. ” I should like to borre your artist eye to aid me in selecting a dress for my reception on Thursday evening. But you will come and tell me how I succeeded alone, will you not?” She said the last words very ear­ nestly, raising her dark eyes to his “Do you really wish me to come now 7 ” he asked, t “ I do.” “ Then I will cornel I must say good mornlDg,” and he left her with a most courteous bow. But while the great express wagon rattled down the streets, Miss Haines turned away from the. store she had been entering, and re-entered her car­ riage. - - . . ' '‘*To^T»y-'firth«r’s.5*^--»L®-Baid“to-the driver, and a few moments later the merchant looked up from his ledgers to see his only child, in a faultless walking dress, entering the counting- “ Another check ?” he said, moving chair to her. “ How much this time?” \ H o thing! I want to talk to you. Shut the door, so those horrid men can’t hear me.” The door closed, and privacy in the sanctnm secured, Bertha astonished her paternal relative by bursting into a passion of weeping. “ Why, Bertha I” he cried. “ Never mind, papa. It is all over now. Do you remember what you said to me when Raymond Tharston asked for some employment here ?” “ Not exactly.” “ 1 do. You said that a man brought up as he had been would want a sine- cure; that he never would come down- to real work, and that you had no po­ sition for fine geotlemeu; that his ofler to take a subordinate position and learn business was simply a frree.” “ Did I say all that, Bertha f ’ “ To me you did. I suppose you dismissed him politely enough. But, papa, i f you thought be was really in earneat~really meant to work for a living,^ would you give him a chance “ Yes. H e has capacity, brains, and a splendid address. Bat he has been an idler all his life.” He Is driving proved. B u t Mr. ECaiues worshipped his only child, and the burst o f tears in the counting-house, told him the secret Bertha successfully concealed from all others. A selt-made man himself, with an ampl&fortune to add to the one Bertha already held, -he laid no stress upon money in thinking of a son-in-law. Energy, industry, in­ tegrity, these were the foundation stones of his own fortnne, and these were the qualities he desired in a li% companion for the child who was the hope and pride of his old age. The closer ties were bo.qnd that drew Raymond Thurston to him in basiness, (he more he hooored and es* teemed the sterling worth o f the man he so-long regarded as a mare butter­ fly of fashion, one of fashion’s spoiled children. And learning to respect his worth, he had also learned to love the frankjt bright,fac8, the clear, ringing voice, and the ever ready courtesy of the young clerk. It grew to be a vory frequent occurrence for him to ask the support o f the strong, young when the streets were slippery. ireets were slipperyj a,nd a t the door to invite Raymond to a b(— Raymond dine, sure of a beaming look of plei ure from Bertha. There came a day after two long years of faithful service, when Ray­ mond was informed in the privacy of bis counting'bouse that a junior part­ nership was his if he would accept it. Some emotion checked the utterance of Raymond’s heartfelt gratitude. He extended his hand, to meet a cordial grasp, and hear: “ Yes, yes. I know. And now if you want to tell Bertha the news, you lay take a holiday.” “ May I tell her more ? May I tell her I love—that the one hope of my life is to win her love in return ?” “ You may tell her that I have been ir most sincere friend and warmest 11-wisher for two years. You may tell her,” and the old mau’s eyes twink­ led, that I have looked upon you as a son ever since the day she mec you driving an express wagon.” “ And behaved lik e an ai “Yes, yes, busy. Take my love you are not overburdened with your own.” A n d so—you know the rest. There was a wedding, and Am a b el gave the bride a parure o f diamonds, and own­ ed, when in a burst o f confidence Ber­ tha told her the whole story, that, af­ ter a ll, Thurston pride was not so good in the end as Raym o n d ’s pride. you: well 1 an g e l?” re, ye, of eo«™ th^y alwaye There, get along With ^ u . Im if ^commemorating the words of Theo- , Take my love tp Bertha, if ^ritus and Tibullus, spits in heY bos( sel fascinating glances direci ADVICE TO AN EXPECTANT BRIBE . The following^ letter w&s recently idflressed to a lady about to become bride, by a gentlemau ac( “ He is no idler n an express-cart.” “ Bertha!” “ He is. I met Mm not an hour ago. H e thought I was going td eat him. As if,” she added; with magnifi«»nfe scorn, “ I would slight an old m end in adversity.” “ Bless my souU Driving an express .wagon 1 Ned Thurston’s boy 1 Edu­ cated at Harvard? Dear mo! Did you^notice whose wagon it was, Ber- Bertha bad noticed, and tbs old gentleman bustled into his coat and started for the office. A t dinner he informed Bertha that Raymond had accepted a place in his own large es­ tablishment, with a frank confession of his profound ignorance o f all busi­ ness aflairs, but in earnest resolution to learn well and speedily whatever appertained to the duties entrusted to It was not many weeks before Mr. Haines, congratulated himself upon the acquisition o f his new clerk. He told Bertha marvelons stories o f Ray­ mond’s rapid progress and the strides he waa making in hia new life, know­ ing of th9 long nights spent in pouring over ledgeis and accounts, the many misgivings the new clerk felt. The same active brain and quick inteUi- '^n c e the new student had brought to gain college honors now stood in good stead in mastering the intricacies in invoices, book-keeping, and count­ ing-house mysteries, and Raymond gaioed favor rapidly in the eyes o f his employer. It 18 a question whether actual merit e-f al fl- m«.. !u hia eves*. would bav© advasiced him quite SO Amabel Was delighted Beitha was frequentlv as be waa promoted, hard t g m gt her owa fiwc fnend®,! and Ber- us fee worked, and steadily as h© im- e, by a gentleman acquaintance, acknowledgement o f the receipt of her wedding cards. It gains a mel- .nchoiy interest from the fact that th e young wile died soon after her marriage. 1 am holding come pasteboard in my hands, Addie I-*-three stately vlnckings from the bush o f ceremony ! [ am gazing upon a card, aad upon a name—a name with which your gen­ tle life began, \a name with which your throbbing heart was lost. • There is nothing strange about that card The maiden sign still looks up from looked on many a friendly visit, as it lies in many a formal basket. I am gazing, too, upon a cfrd where the nearer parent tells the world she will be “ At Home,” one day; and that is nothing new! But there is another card, whose mingling there puts r . tongue of fire into this speechless pasteboard, enameling fate on com­ monplace I It tells us that feeling is maturing into destiny, and that these cards are but the pale heralds o f a coming crisis; when a hand that has pressed Mend’s hands and plucked flowers shall close down on him to whom she shall be a friend and flower forever after. I have sent you a few flowers to adorn the dying moments . of your single life. Thgy are the gen­ tlest types o f a delicate and durable friendship. They sprinj side when others have they will be found watching over our graves when those should cherish have forgotten us. It seems meet to me that a past so calm and pare as yours should expire with a kindred sweetness about it; that flowers bud music, kind friends and earnest words, should con­ secrate the hour when a sentiment is passing into a sacrament. The three great stages oTour'beihg are the blftfi^ the bridal aad the burial. To the first we bring only weaknesa-r-for the last we have nothing but dust! But here, at the altar, where life joins life, the pair come throbbing up to the holy man, whispering the deep promise that arms each with the other’s heart, to help on in the life-stroggleof care and duty. The beautiful will-be there, borrowing new beauty from the scene. for ing up by our deserted; and borrowing: The gay and the frivolous, they and their flounces, will look solemn foi once. And youth will come, to gaze ou a ll its aacred thoughts pant tor } and age will totter up to hear the old words repeated that to their own lives have given the charm. Some will weep over it as if it' were a tomb and some will laugh over it as if it were a jok e ; but two must stand by it, for jt is fate, not fun, this everlasting lock­ ing of their lives. And now, can you, who have queened it over eo many bending forms, can you come down at last to the frugal diet of a single heart ? Hitherto you have been a cioek, siy- ing yonr time to all the world. Now you are a watch, buried in one partic­ ular bosont) warming only bis breast, marking only hk hours, and ticking only to the best o f bis heart—where time and fooling shall be io union, until theso lower ties are lost in that higher wedlock where all hearts are united around the great im- Heart9falii. CHARMS AGAINST THE EVIL IY E . The supposed liability of the inno­ cent muitilude to the malevolence of the evil eye caused the superstitious to have recourse to many charms, in cantations, and ceremonies to avert ill-consequences and render the poi­ soned glance innocuous; amonj which, as just recorded, prayer and th use of saliva were conspicuous. The wearing of coral brooches, beads, and earrings is stili a popular charm in he evil eye. In N a p les against Scotland,” saya in his addenda, “ a about a child’s neak, (cross of mountain and other ally efficacious in preventinj snee o f evil spirits, evil eyes calamities.” In the Middl the evil eye. “ i n Mr. Graham Dalzell, a red thread ti.ed or a rowan cross, ) are believed in preventing 28, ile Ages an amulet, of a lozenge shape, marked with' the mystic letters A B R ACADABRA, waa worn in the bosom as a certain specific. A cross formed of the wood of the eider tree, affixed to cow-houses and stables^ was supposed to protect the cattle from all possible harm. A branch of the rowan tree was also in great favor, and to hold up but a branch or a twig • in presence of an eye-biter was suffi­ cient to render her deadliest wishes o f no avail. A four-leaved shamrock, which is excessively rare, and all the more highly prized for that reason, was a sovereign antidote. In Paeoek’s Travels in the East he says that the Arabs of Egypt threri salt into the fire as a charm against the effect of an evil eye, or before loading their camels foi a journey throngh the desert, conclud­ ing, as the blue flame arises, that every evil genius is banished. The ejection of saliva was also considered a charm of pecaliaf efficacy. Pliny speaks of it as a certain antidote to “ fascination,” as well as a preservative from conta­ gion, and in pugilistic encounters as certain to aggravate the violence of a blow. “ At the present day, as of ol Jr. Dnlzell. “ a Greek mother iommemoratii critus and Tibul , ^ to repel fascinating glances direci toward herself, and dreading the gas of the sterile on her child, spits in its face.” But the most common of all the charm® ia use against the evil eye is t h a t very vulgar gesture of applying the thumb to the nose, stretching out the'fingers, and “ twiddling” them with a rapid motion for a few seconds, commonly practiced by London street boys, without the slightest knowledge of its origin or meaning, and known in slang parlance as “ taking a sight.” The ployed by boys and others to deni incredulity or contempt for authority , but tne real meaning in ancient times, forgotten and wholly unsuspected in our own, was to show contempt and defiance of the machinations of witch­ craft, and to render the evil eye power­ less. This is the action that so of­ fends the good-natured P io Nono, not for itself, but as a manifestation of the public opinion, that he possesses, independently of bis will, a power that ha would be the last to exercise de­ signedly. This vulgar sign, modern as it looks, is as old as Egyptian civili­ zation, and was known, on the unearthed wal. and Herculaneum abundantly prove, to the street boys and other vulgar in­ habitants o f those ancient cities.— the Year Bound. and chin whiskers.” It couldn’t have been her cousin John, from Brooklyn,” suggested Mrs. Coonton. “ Brother! no!” said Sarah, pet­ tishly.. “ He is short and has brow hair. This gentleman is a stranger. I wonder where she picked him up ?” “ She seemed to keep mighty cloi to him,” said A m e lil; “ bat she \needn’t be^scared. H e looks as soft as a squash. Did you see him tumb­ ling up his hair with his fingers ? I !er what the big ring cost—two 9” on.i fha “ SOLD, BY THHNBER!” One night, recently, a Whitehall gentleman was on the Troy train re­ turning home. At Saratoga a gentle­ man from Rutland took a seat behind the Whitehaller. In a few minutes a conversation was opened between the in was opened between two. Ascertaining that our frien was from Whitehall, the Rutland gei tleman asked him if he knew Wilkini the editor o f the Timm. “ Know him ! I oughlttoknow for he is very intimate with my wife.” “ You don’t say ?” replied the Rut­ land man, in astonishment. “ Y e s , sir. I don’t want i t repeat­ ed, but I have indisputable evidence that he has been on terms of th© clos­ est intimacy with her. “ But, my friend, don’t you live ith the woman ?” “ Yes, sir; strange as it may seem, Ijdo. Q sir, you little know what a man^wDl put up with from the womSEr: he loves. This intimacy has been car­ ried on for years right under my very nose, and yet by the love I bear the woman I have never yet broken with wife.” But you cannot possibly put up with such conduct on the part o f your Wife? If she is intimate with W il­ kins, I should think you would brand the villain before the world. I would not submit* No sir! J would not, never!” The Rutland man had worked him­ self up to a pitch, o f excitem ent, when the train stopped at Whitehall. “ Good night, s ir!” said the W h ite­ hall gentlem an. “ I hope we w ill meet again, I thank you for .the interest you have taken in my affairs;” and the two gentlem en shook hands and parted. , Just then the eohductor entered the ar, and the Rutland roan stepped up ,nd asked him who the gentlem an was h0 was just coversing jyith, ♦‘That man,” said Conductor H o l­ comb ; “ don’t you know him ? That is Wilkins, editor of the Whitehall “ Bold, by thunder 1” said the Rut­ land man, putting his fingers in his pocket and taking out something.— “ Mr, Cocductor, will you please give hi'ii this card and accompanying $5, AETBR DSaDRCH, § It was after the evening service. Mrs. Coonton and the three Misses Coonton had arrived home. They sat listlessly around the room with their things on. Mr. Coonton way lying on the lounge asleep. “ Emmeline,” said Mrs. Coonton, suddenly addressing her eldest, “ did you see Mrs. Parker when she came in?” “ Yes, ma,” replied Emmeline. “ She didn’t have that hat on, last Sunday, did she?” “ No,” said Emmeline. “ I t is her new hat, I noticed it the momeot she went down the aisle, and says to Sa­ rah, * What on earth possesses Mrs. Parker to wear such a hat as that?’ “ Such a great prancing feather on such a little hat looked awfully ridic­ ulous. I thought I should laugh right out when I saw it,” observed Sarah. “ I don’t think it looked any woi than Mary Shuyler’s, with the flarii red how r>n ,'Kd r.ao 1 — ” eo^.^ & bow on the back, I don’t see what Mi iring said Amelia. .ra. Schuyler ci 3 Mary out like ion with a sigh, be older than Sarah, and !3 as if she were a mere be thinking of to dress that,” said Mrs Coonton “ Mary must yet she dresses child “ Did you see how the Widow Mar­ shall was tucked out?” interrupted Emmeline. “ She was as gay as a peacock.— Mercy, what airs that woman puts on I I would like to ask her when she is going to bring back that pan of flour,” and Emmeline tittered maliciously. Coonton. be her father.\ “ What difference do you suppos that makes to her ?” suggested Emm line. “ But I pity him if he gets het. She’s a perfect wildcat.” “ Say, E m , who was that g entleman with E llen B ixby ?” inquired A “ That’s so,” chimed in Sarah spirit, “ who was he?” “ What gentleman ?” asked Mrs. Coonton. “ W h y , I don’t know who it was,” exclaimed Emmeline. “ They came in duriojg ’as a tall felh rin the payer, illow, with light hair ittered. cents ?” and the spi “ S he’s got one o f them \ hats, I see,” said Emmeline. “ I f I had a drunken father I ’d k eep in doors, I think, and not he parading myself in public.” Just then there was a commotion on the lounge, and the ladies commenced to take off iheir things, “ Hello, folks,” said Mr. Coonton, rising up and* rubbing his eyes; “ is church out?” as tracings up- Yes, ^ said Mrs. Coonton, with a Us of Pompeii which communicated itself to Iradflnfl.. her daughtors. ‘ D id you hear a good sermon ?” * Pretty good;” accompanied by another yawn all around. “ See many good clothes?” was the ixt question. next question. “ I suppose you think, Mr. Coonton, that this is all your wife and daugh­ ters go to church for, to look at other leople’s clothes,” said Mrs. Coonton, artly. “ That’s just like pa,” said Emme­ line, with a toss of the head. “ H e is always slurrii went to ring church people.” to bed. M a d e a M ista k e in H is M a n .— A d insurance man called into an es- ios. An insurance man called into an es- igh him, tablishment on Main street the other te with my wife.” day,lay, withith a large account book under w a his arm, and walking up to the pro­ prietor in a business sort o f a way, he inquired, “ H o w ’s business— how’s Stock ?” dull,” returned word, sir, I Oh, business is very, very ned the tradesman. “ ’Pen my word, sir, I haven’t got $900 in the house I Terrible dull 1” and he isedaud looked inqr *”'“-’— . tor. “ Only 0900?’ surance man in surprise. “ ’Pon SoaT,~sTr,J^' repealedTTBe oearer; don’t believe there’s a dollar more—- look for yourself,” and the man looked sad and sighed. “ Then, sir,” said the insurance man, with a good deal of th, “ how does it come that your ’ ‘ ^ * for uiringly at bis ?” said the in- lat confusion, “ I thought you was I tax man ! I was sure you wais ■a the gatherer, or ’poo my soul I would­ n’t a-said that, when, in fact, my stock is worth fully 08,000—look for your­ self, sir I”— Cofioea Eagle. m r A youDg fellow once offered to kissa^uakeress. “ Friend,” said she, “ thee must not do it.” Oh, by jove, but I must,” said the youth. “ Well, it ; but thee must not make of it.” a practice i^ * A n elderly maiden who had suffered som e disappointment thus de­ fines the human race ; “ Man*—a con­ glomerated mass o f hair, tobacco smoke, eonfusioii, conceit and. hoots. Woman—tbe waiter, perforce, on the aforesaid anim sl.” STUDIES AMONG THE SIOUX t [Dakota Correspondence of the Evansvillo Jour- They have a keen sense o f the ridie- ulous, partioularly the women, and somewhat of humor. I think it was Running Antelope who said that “ when he first heard of it be was much surprised that the white men killed their Savior, but now he knew them belter, he had changed his mind.” I recollect once, when a friend and ray- seif were standing rather too near a circle, where they v/ere having a squaw- dance, two hags whose heads were sil­ vered by weil-nigh a century, threw th e ir arm s around o u r necks, an d , arouiQpgiQta i 8 eW e , Cdinpcijal us to join in their gyration*, much to the hilarity o f the rest. But of all ob­ jects of study the women are the great­ est, from the pretty, good-natured girls of seventeen to the tooth- who, in this very tribe, a the bat- young girl: less old baj have been known to come tie-field after the fight to kill the wounded. Much righteous indigna­ tion has been expressed by American writers with regard to the servile la­ bor which is required of the women among the Indian tribes, and this crit­ icism is but to be expected from a peo­ ple whose habit of pampering their women exhibits itself in the absurd etiquette which requires that a gentle^ mau must offer to carry f> parcel for a lady, if it be but an ounce weight and is now resulting in the cry of “ wo­ man’s rights.” B u t these Indian girls are the happiest set I have ever seen, and if the old women are bent from being hewers o f wood and carriers o f ,ter, the men do their part in hunt­ ing and fighting. The girJs are at once both modest and bold. They will stand and gaze in at your windows for a quarter o f an hour at a time, but having once ven­ tured to hint to one of them that her ways were most winning, the poor child was so overcome that she ran away, hid her face in her robe, and refused to be comforted. The manner of love-making among them is strange. When afflicted with Cupid's dart, the young men go about wearing their blankets in such a man­ ner as to cover up all of the bead ex­ cept the eyes, and, having spied the object of their affection, they slip up behind her quickly, throw the blanket over her head also, and, holding her tightly around the waist, compel her to listen to the soft accents o f love. In case of a popular belle, they will sometimes range themselves in a line at the door of her wigwam, and when she comes out, pass her from one to the other as each in turn disburdens his surcharged heart. They have been known to keep a girl this way all day JLastly, the language of tbe Indian is well-known to be picturesque, and no one can appreciate the grace of their oratory without having seen it, and even in ordinary conversation their gestures are profuse. It is the very poverty of their language which makes it sound poetic; thus, for “ the ship sails,” havibg neither tbe word “ ship” nor “ sails,” they say, “ the 1 makes the boat run on the wa- . ’ thus bringing in two of the nat­ ural elements in that one sentence. It is noticeabie^that wheu we sometimes express age by so many summers, they always say winters, and when we say “so many days since,” they say “ so many nights or sleeps.” SEEKING A TEACHER FOR LINDA. She was at one of the union school houses h a lf an hour before school med. She had ‘Linda’ with her. i was a tall woman, forty years old, with a jaw showing great determina­ tion, and ‘Linda’ was sixteen, and rather shy and pretty good looking. The mother said she hadn’t been in the city long, and that it wjis her du- ty to get Linda into school and see that she was properly educated.— When tbe teacher came the mother boldly inquired: You know enough to teach, do you ? I think' I do, replied the teacher, blnshiog deeply. And you feel competent to govern the scholars, do you ? Yea’m. Do you pound ’em with a ferrule, ’ lick ’em with a whip ? We seldom resort to punishment here, replied tbe embarrassed teacher. That’s better yet, continued the mother. I know that if Linda should come home all pounded up I ’d leel like killing some one. I suppose yon are of a respectable character, ain’t Why— ahem — why ■— stammered the teacher, growing while and then I expect you are, continued the wo­ man, It’s well enough to know who our children are associating with.— Now, then, do you allow tbe boys and girls to s it together ? No, ma’am. That’s right. They never used to when I was young, and 1 don’t think Linda is any better than I am. An­ other thing! Do you allow any wink­ ing? Any what? exclaimed the puzzled \tesenBr.*' “ - ----------- - ----- -- Do you allow a boy to wink at a girl ? asked the woman. Why, no ! I was afraid you did. Linda is as shy as a bird, and if she should come ime night and tell me that she len winked at I don’t know what I ’d do. Now, aaolher thing— do you have a beau ? Why— why—was the stammered ’^^f^think •u do I resumed the wo- rerely, I know just how it “W h en you should be e x p laiu- L yol chipelago is you your Rfohard, and , your is a bappy momeflt la a ife when she discovers , w . young girl’s life ___ Central ^ and tell him to send me his paper so that her lover’s mouslacha and her ‘ ieug as (he money lasts*” ^ hair are exacUy the same shade. ing what an thinking o f ) m ind is way, way off* I But, Madam— Never mind ahy explanations, in­ terrupted the woman. I want L inda brought up to know joggerfy, figures, •iting, spellography, and i f you’ve got a beau and are spooking to the theatre one night, a candy-pnll the next, a horse race the next, and so on, your mind cau’t be on education. Come, L inda, we’ll go to som e other bool house .—Detroit Free Press. There is an old maid in Troy who has such a hatred of men tbat sho Will travel miles for the pleasure o f saying to an ill-used wife, “ Ah 11 esel Ealfilling your destiny as wife and mother 1 Ain’t it nice and aweet, and sllthatr

xml | txt