{ title: 'The Herkimer Democrat and Little Falls gazette. (Herkimer, N.Y.) 1869-1876, May 19, 1869, Page 1, Image 1', download_links: [ { link: 'http://www.loc.gov/rss/ndnp/ndnp.xml', label: 'application/rss+xml', meta: 'News about NYS Historic Newspapers - RSS Feed', }, { link: '/lccn/sn83031101/1869-05-19/ed-1/seq-1/png/', label: 'image/png', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn83031101/1869-05-19/ed-1/seq-1.pdf', label: 'application/pdf', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn83031101/1869-05-19/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.xml', label: 'application/xml', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn83031101/1869-05-19/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.txt', label: 'text/plain', meta: '', }, ] }
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^ aB E PffBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY. C, a . WXT.I3-EmaTI 2 SXE, EDITOR AND PROPEIEXOB. T E R M S : Th0 D emossat and G azette m i l be sent to subscribers for S2.W a year, iu adyance; if paid a t tile e x p iration of the y ear. §2,50. Money may hn n.inJ tn neiv^gas -daly authorized by 09 to le - t. F o paper discontinued unless paid, e x cept a t the option o f the DEBOCBAT ESTABLISHED 1842.] i j£k 3 N T 'X > '' 3 E i i X * * “ X ‘X s . 3 © 3 g ^ j O l l E L s i ^ , ' coipt th e a arrearases Publiskero RATES 0:5 ADVEBTISI^fG: )ae week,... Onesiiuare, one m onth, ....................... . 3W f S i i ; | S f e E E E E | | lare, one year,... One One squ£ 3 . ^ 1 ” “ “ “I AM THE RESUREOTIOK AID THE LIPE.!' To life; liow dreadful i s i l b r s a w s ' ? i ^ S P i k mountain Tile ebbias tide oflifo^Ut fortber^outl* ivteSaJfSvStsir^^^^^ S « = S S s « ? h ‘i - i A,^ back o’er memory’s winding track there The h ollow echo o f those solemn words, ' *• £ ariA <0 carfA a n d d««i £0 dust ?’> Vi ero worse th:in de i i ; : s r . f e M'a?;s Oh, mourner, a tfhe ^m b l’^^Ae dead sTiaUit l again,• in e loved and beautiful awaken from The silent grave, a t voice Omnipotent, C. C. WITHERSTIHE, Proprietor. T h e . U n i o n O o p ^ t i t u t l o n , tC jilE T T i: ESTABLISHED iS ‘6 3. T E R M S 00 A Y E A R . VOLUME IIVII. HERKIMER, W ip E S M Y , AIAY 19, 1809. lUMBER 39, [From L ippineatt’s Magazine.] S A M ’S S E B E O H . gli pos- ilance to distinct i” which ince the BY S. W. TU T T L E . A college student, althoi sessiog many points of reseml the human family, is yet of ai a species as any of the “ race have puzzled ethnologists s world began. It often happens that yoi whose .parents were respecta went down to the grave without any gray hairs, from the mere fact of their being connected -with an institution of showw symptomsympb learning, begin to sho S early in life o f being college students. They wear high hats, fondly but er roneously called • bea ve rst he y wear canes j. they sptematically re verse all preconceived ideas of the normal position of the human frame; they invent new theories of study, founded upon experience they utterly lack; are aggressive iconoclasts in regard to the cherished idols of their elders, and persistent reformers in whatever ought not to be reformed. That the Darwinian theory of de velopment has any bearing upon the subject, inductively or otherwise, I do not think. Nor am I inclined to the opinion that it can be solved by the doctrine of inherited tendencies.— w h a t e v e r m a y have been th e ante cedents of the ■ndividual, i in .ev§ry case the result is ’identical. Tempi - - \ - - .... ^ ------ is “ Dry up i I mean this summer, in the fall I am going to ITeW Tork to study law and practise it in that city.” In turn each ; ^ • i ope,. and la le, low was cj pronounced his horo- last of all the one by the lalled upon to speak. scope “ Now, Dunning,” said he on the bed, who had been called Sam, “ let’s Will you i from our a faro Bank hear you prognosticate, devote the learning attained froi Abna Mate^ to keeping or running an ice cart ?” “ I would devote myself to the task of reforming you, 0 incorrigiblejoker I if there was* tha slightest chance of success,” replied Dunning, in a rich, mellow tone, in perfect keeping with his unctuous aspect. “ In the mean time, I am going to enter the Theo logical Seminary next October, and when I graduate from thence I pro pose to preach the gospel.” “ A healthy old preacher you’ll make!” said8am. “ I flould preach your gown right off of you !” “ You !” retorted Dunning, derisive-' ly. “ Why, you are nothing but a universal skeptic, making fun ot “ I f everybody who likes fun is i skeptic., what are you yourself, Franlk •Dunning ? The trouble is, you stud; lignantly. fun is a i THE EIVEE PATH. BV J. G. TTHITTIEE. No rustle from the Mrchen stem, No rattle from the -water’s h em. fe fv“.‘.\.V.\Vi5ffASteaSi i s f e w i i a f f i r t U S ^ HAY SVEMU&. BY WILLIAM CnLLES BEYANT. The b reath of sprins-tim e. a t this twilight D r M^oks. t h a t through the -wakening meadows Or brink’of rnshy spring 7 Or woodside -where, in little companies. iyow sleeps the h umm Wandered from bloc 3g-bird, th a t in the sun, SlPi^teW a one. N g v eye^igr^hovering insert to his place ■And, through the long night-hours, the flowery A re left to thee alone. O’er the p ale blossoms o f the sassafras And o’er the spice-bush spray, Among the opening buds thy breathings pass. And come embalmed, away. Y et there is sadness in thy soft caress. W ind of the blooming y e a r ! Thy g e n tle presence; that was wont to bless Xhy c oming, is n o t here. Go, th e n ; and y e t I bid thee n o t repair. Thy g athered sweets to shed. W h ere p ine and -»villow, in the evening a ir. Sigh o’er the b u ried d ead. Pass on to homes where c h eerful voices sound And cheerful looks are oast. And where thou wakest, in thine a iiy round. No sorrow of the past. A n d -whisper, everywhere, th a t E a r th rene-ws - H e r b eautiful a rray. Amid the darkness a n d the gathering dews. For the return o f day. THE STREAM OF LIPR. Oh, silvery stream let of the fields T h a t flowest full And free I F ot thee the rains o f spring return. The summer dews for thee s And when thy latest blo?3omS die, ' ^Jn a u tum n ’s chilly showers. The- winter fountains g u sh for thee. J i f f Aiay brings back the fiowera. le t springs ia*“ entirely exempt from the operatlDH of this rule. Time, place, and cii stance have as little influence upon mtial characteristics as has the failure of the grape crop in Europe upon the supply of Imported wines. If I might be allowed, in this con nection, to imitate high-priced’wrjters and advance a theory, I should say that the species in question was “ de-^ veloped” on the plan very successfully introduced b y one D r - Procustes m a n y years ago. T h e system, i s -what does it. ■ Whatever I have said or suggested concerning the class individuality of the college student, may with equal students them s e lves, in minoi of development, the rooms are identical in their general plan. Exempli gratia^ Alost prominent to the eye on entering, is a huge gilt pasteboafd emblem, fastened on w a ll betw een ffie'w indow s, o f , th< gut the ;o whichth thehe t occupant of By the'aid of life th is device ’= cret society t( the room belongs. ingenious jack-kni carved o (artmenl by the society in a kind of tenancy : tail speeial, by what might be called ;s hangs a •ossed, w ith the outer door; and the apartment thus consecrated Ohi-Phi” or “ Psi-Upsilon” is held an inchoate right of door. On the side wall sometimes hang; p a i r o f f o i l s , s u g g e s t i v e l y c r o s s e d , w i t h pendent masks, and perhaps a set of boxing gloves; two or three large en gravings also, with frames, and half a dozen smaller ditto, without; a few country-made photographs of mild eyed damsals impaled on' nails, and a more pretentious one of “ my brother the C aptain.” It being facetiously claimed that colleges are instituted for purposes of study, the college students is always possessed of from twenty to on.e hun d r e d b o o k s , w h i c h , c o l l e c t i v e l y , h e calls Mis library. This varies very m u c h w i t h t h e c h a r a c t e r o f t h e s t u dent. If he has the reputation of bo dy of the classics id, the trans- from thi drawer. ! dust in the If his standin ing preserved lower Ipireau g for piety is of the facul-^ I X —^an un known quantity—^you will notice that the selection of theological works is e x t e n s i v e unu. ---- uuj.xuw e u .. In a ll cases three or four b ig le x i cons may be found lying carelessly on the centre-table, rea% for immediate use, wbile in the midst of this philo logical barricade is a neat-looking ci gar box, which promises Partagas to the eye, but fulfils only Killikinnick to the taste ; and flanking it are half a dozen dirty pipes, each one the dir tiest of the lot, like the various super latives o f th e G reek Agathos. In a room substantially answering is d^cription, at A r is totle College, a May twilight of the year 1862, a group of half a dozen Seniors was gratlieTratkev ed d t o s m o k e a p i p e a p i e c e a n d in a Ma] g e t o s m o k e a p i p e a p i e c e a n d discuss theii' approaching graduation: Four were seated around the table, with their feet thereupon, their chairs tipped back and hypothetical meer^ schaums at their lips, diligently offer ing burnt sacrifices to their patron saint, and mounting in prospective on smoke-wreaths to unattainable castles in some ever-receding Spain. At the window sat another, upon whose face )od nature seemedmed strivingtriving unctuous good nature see s with a certain sanctimonious gravity for the ' last one ^ gravity session. The on the bed, wit the foot-board and his eyes fixed so berly on the ceiling. Smoking is a serious business with students, and there was silence in the room for the space of half a minute. “ I say, fellers!” abruptly exclaim ed the loafer on the bed, rolling over so as to face his companions, “ where are we all going, and what are we go ing to do with ourselves ? that is what I would like to know.” “ A n sw e r for yourself, Sam ,” said a voice from out o f the smoke, “ and then pass i t round.” “ Very well,” began Sam, “ I ’m not going to do anything^” \ Yon never did,” interrupted the smoker. 'erything,” , “ I ’m not,” said Sam , indignantl- 3ry‘ ■ ■ ■ - wl •Dunning ? The trouble is, you study theology more than you do religion, and you get as narrow-minded as a Je' >dcan come - --------------- - ---- he threw himself hack on the pillow with a wrathful grunt. “ Don’t tear your coat-sleeves out, Sam,” said Dunning, laughing glee- hit you pretty old-time freshness for many a day to come. The reminiscences of Graves ana Sam Tickler would not bear repeating. One by one, old companions Were_ re surrected, and information concernin them exchanged. At length Dur ning’s name was mentioned. “ He is settled for the present,” said Graves, “ in a little village iu the Chemung Valley, which goes by the name of Eatvilie. I saw him about a month ago. He is just as jolly and undignified as ever—only a trifle more so—and growing fatter eye^ day.” “ I haven’t seen him,” said Tickler, “ for over two years. I would like to take a look at his countemlnce.” • “ He told me,” replied Graves, “that be expected to be in New York the middle of M a y ; this is the first week in April. You know he’s got a flame' here? N ice girl, I guess—daughti of the Eev. Dr. Somebody, up town, P r a n k is going to spread himself pa-in-law’s pulpit. Sam, do you member the agreement you and Frank made about a sermon you were going to write foi’ him? * You, loft it to me X --------- ..x.i.-.-Tj ---------- -v.ofi'?* Now \ you, to say when it should eomo-ott'l I ’ve got a nice rig on ,bo,th o f ^By--=- - ■e fu lly , “ or I ’l l think I hard,” -Hardl—ns yo'ir head^” said Sam, who had worked himself into quite a state of indignation. “ I can write as good a sermon as you, and every bit a s o r t h e d o x I” suddenly. “ I ’l l hold you to thal [f I write a sermon, you will preach it, e h r ’ ^ “ I am to have the privilege of overlooking it, to see that you don’t put in any slang or quote Co-ca-che- lunk ? Yes.” “ When shall it be?” asked Sam. “ Not till I take orders, at any rate,” replied Dunning. “ Suppose we leave it to George Graves, and when he appoints the time we will both abide l>y it.” “ Agreed T ■ “ W illyoi “ I f one of you. will stop talking tell me ab b o u t , p e r h a p s you a c t as um p ire, G eorge ?” will stop' talkii “ If one of you. w ill stop long enough to let the other ■ w h a ty o ti a r e b l o w i n g 'a o u t , p e r h s I will,” said the smoker addressed. “ Well, then,” said Dunning, 7 the c a s e is t h i s : S a m T i c k l e r th i n k s h e can write as good a sermon as I. I doubt it, and in order to give his un discovered genius a chance to soar, I promise, if he Avill write one—origin al, orthodox and twenty minutes long —that I will preach it. He accepts the offer, and we propose to make you re f e r e e to d e c i d e w h e n th e S e r m o n shall be finished by him and preach ed by me; and we pledge ourselves, when you notify us, to fulfil each our part of the arrangement.” “ Amen,” said Tickler.' “ All right,” said Graves, and the conversation turned upon aome other subject. Impercepiblly the noisy rail lery died away and the jesting re- 3sed into silence. Thicker and ster the smoke-wreaths rise till they become veritable pillars of cloud, ;h w h i c h )m and tl a w a y , t o t a k e t h e i r p l a c e s a m i d th e ghostly memories which haunt the catacombs of the brain. What a convenient and ever-pres ent subject for pathos is the illimita ble flight of Time, as it sweeps, past iuns and stars and planets, into the 'eeeptacle prepared in^ intangible space for immaterial verities! Many a Pegasus that has sought to soar above the Aonian mount till he dwindled it to’ a mole-hill, is fain at last to halt for a brief nibble at this luxuriant pasturage. it has furnished the peonies and sunflowers of rhetoric to many a bar ren pen. It has fired with eloquence many a lover’s tongue when wooing a tardy mistress to name the fatal— mean, happy—day. Amd it enables me to state, with the e p i g r a m m a t i c p e r s p i c a i t y o f t h e p l a y bill, that five years are supposed to have elapsed between the first and se c o n d c h a p t e r s . ” . The yenue o f this ohapter is laid in a lawyer’s office in New York, where the reader is subpoenaed to appear ^ d witness. The most interesting thing to be witnessed iaSam Tickler, sober ed down from the student to the man, industriously laboring in the laby rinth of the law. The frosts of five summers have not silvered bis brow, though we will hope the practice of three winters has greenbacked his pockets. To him entering, a form darkened the doorway, like unto him self in, point of transformation and maturity. “ Hello, George Graves! Old chum. I’m-glad to see you I Where do you hail from ?” “ From Buffalo,” was the reply, as Graves returjoi^d thg.cordial grasp of the. hand and repaid\with Warmth the welcoming sparkle of the eye. . The meeting of two college class mates in the great vast of life is like that of tv/o ships at sea on a long and lonely voyage. Business and disci pline are forgotten. For a time they drift idly from their course. Thoughts of home and old companions make the fragrant. Eager questions are. asked-.aad answered; Memories of by-. Adays stir upi the warm depths of heart, and leave it green with the T virtue of th authority in me vested,’ I' appoint the occasion when lie fills the doctor’s pulpit.’’ “ For Heaven’s sake,” said Sam, “ don’t talk such nonsense.” “ B u t i t is n ’t n o n s e n s e , ” ^ ___ Graves. “ You pledged your word not to back out, and I’m going to bold you to it.” “ You’re not in earnest ?”^ said Sam, imploringly. “ I can’t write dJs and in the other his note book. The’next morning’Sam .sallied forth to purloin a sermon. I may as wel confess the ti’uth at once that hif prdty intimate knowledge of New York did not extend to its churches. . He had a vague idea of the various denominations, but, if questioned very closely, would have been compelled to “ give it up.” Without knowing wlmre to -go, he strolled down Broad way, and, unconsciously turning into Twenty-third street, paused before the brown stone sanctity of S t . V itu s ’s “ This is as good as any,” he said to himself, and entered its sumptuous portals. Modestly seeking the gallery, he found a quiet corner near to the pulpit, and. there, in due time, he transferred to his' note ’book the ser mon which the venerable pastor pro nounced, It was flat burglary no doubt, and should be classed among offences punishable without benefit of c l e r ^ I b u t su c c e s s , l i k e th e m a n tle chai’ifcy, covers a multitude of sin; our day, and nobody is a criminal til he is found out. By the nest afternoon he had it copied off. On Wednesday, Dunning made his appearance to demand Sam’s sermon,, hoping, devoutly in his secret heart t h a t h e w o u ld be justified in de clining tO preach it. . Sam handed him the- manuscript with a triumphant smile. Dunning sat down and read it through attentively. W hen, h e had .finished be drew a deep breath and looked his com p a n ion straight in the You can now as well as you could then,” said Graves. “ No go, old fel low ! ■ I’ll write to Dunning this in stant.” So he s a t down a t T ickler’s desk, took a sheet of the office paper, and produced the following epist’ — ’'-’WCE OP T ickler &S 20 Nassau street, ITisw Y ork , A p til 4, “D ear -F rank : D o you still re member the compact you and Sam Tickler entered into just before we graduated, by which he agreed to write a sermon which you agreed to preach, th e tim e and place o f per formance to be designated by me? I have notified Sam of my decision, and he cheerfully (?) accepts it. I appoint the occasion of your visit to New York lay that on ,ch for Dr. youi month, and the day that you are to preai 3-his-name, No bi ley tell m e you are rather tender the Doctor’s daughter, eh? backing out. sr t ich What’s-his-name, te ll m e yo u a re rath( - % “ by, old boy, §am sends his love. “ Y o u r old friend and class-m ate, “ G eorgi : D avis ,” We must remember thatminisl you would study something else—^^hu- man nature, for instance—you would '^gain far more catholicity in your ideas a n d b e a b l e to p r e a c h a f a r b e t t e r s e r - Dunning shook his head with a du bious look, and then took his sermon and his leave. Tickler was quite ■elated a t - t h e su e e e s s o f h i s r u s e , a n d anxiously looked forwxardto tliQ finale. W h ile dressing for church on Sunday morning, he stopped suddenly and ex claimed, “ Now, that’s funny! I don’t know where Frank is going to preach, I never heard the Doctor’s name. I wonder who can telh me? I guess Gibson can.” tal, and excuse which Dunning E this latter.' Ido ministers ,re b u t m o r - le carnal wrath felt on the receipt not believe 1 receipt of 'e he foi - e s p e c i a l l y y o u n g on< l 1 , and exc the bid lis 1 i.ngi in g S . .xjLa vjrxavca u a u ouggcBLCu, n e was very tenderly disposed toward the Doctor’s daughter, and had hoped to im p r o v e th i s o p p o r t u n i t y v e r y m u c h to his' advancement. Animated iy this desirei, he was already glowing with inspiration on the efficacy of sa cramental grace—one of the old _ tleman’s hobbies—and nightly spout- ed well-turned sentences to imaginary auditors in the silence of his room.— But here was a ruthless invader who smote all his fine air-castles to smith ereens! This sermoi make his fortune, for a dish-water would be an in s u lt to the ac and ruin him forever with the and ex a c tin g divine. W ith a l l his Dunning was too I gen- spo Lon, w h ich m ight ust be thrust aside ‘production, which [t to th e au d ience. wordiiness, however, conscientious to break his thoughough he-felte- word; and h telt as if he were signing his m death-warrant, he wrote Tickler that he would keep his pledge. Although he had no personal inter est at stake, Sam was as much discon- 'ted at the turn of affairs as Frank Dunning himself. - “Thusit is,” he exclaimed, “ that the ffillies of our youth rise up and sit in judgment on our maturer years 1” (He was just twenty-seven.) Onde in a while the thought entered his mind of backing squarely down and confess ing a failure. But pride held him fast, and the thought of Dunning’s mph banished the idea. What shall I do?” he asked hfm- self argumentatively. “ How shall I begin ? I am. not posted in doctrine. I don’t know anything of theology. I wish I could think of some way to s o l v e th e q u e s t i o n 1” But while he tried to think, time issed and the month o f May came. e x t -w e ek D u n n i n g w o u l d h e in town.' But one Sunday intervened before the fatal day. A cold chill ran all over Sam. Itwas Saturday night. The shades o f a dull Mqy evening were settling over the city, but be still sat his skele- it, and fairly getting lesperate. Something must be done, nd that forthwith. Picking up a pencil. Tickler put his disconnected thoughts on paper before Mm in the same idle spirit which of ten tempts men in perplexity to do something with their hands. He did not write out his ideas, but jotted them down-in short-hand, and the queer little figures, in the* gathering gloom, ;d transformed into grotesque rming all manner of had* partially trid after- had per- many a phonography had helped retime, but, it could not aid him now. Why not?. With the question came the solution of h is difficulty. H e was out of the woods! Short-hand for seemec mnasts Qtastic learned the art in colics ' “ Sam,” he said, “ did you write that sermon ?” ’ “ I did,” replied Sam , prom p tly— “ every word df i ta dd in g In aside to hiraself,. “ That’s only a white l ie ; h^ didn’t ask if I composed it.” “ YV:ell,” said Dunning, honestly, “ I own up. It’s a better sermon than I can write, and I bayC devoted five years t o s tudying theology exclusive- “ That’s just where you fail, my dear boy,” said Sam, with dignity. “ If H e m et G ibson o n his doorstep.— “ Certainly, I know,” said he; I am -oing there now. Come along—we’re They walked rapidly down town, in lim ated conversation, Sam . p a y ing no attention to their route, till Gibson said, “ H e r e we are,” and Sam looked up and beheld with horror tha? exote ric magnificence of St. Vitus’s. - “ N o t here!” h e exclaim e d , catch ing Gibson fiercely by the arm. “ Yes, here,” said Gibson, shaking himoff. “ Why hot?” Tickler sprang up the steps three at time and rushed into the church.— [e must see Dunning before the servi ces began. Alas I it was too la t e ! Prank stood at the desk, reading the lesson for the day. The benevolent . -X , ------ £ -------- him from be- beamed on 1: f e l t a s i f t h e i is sexton Doctor sat beaming o n ! hind, while his blushing daughter Mm from in front. Sam e w e r e b e a m s in b o t h b i s your friend ill 7” whispered the to Gibson as be gave them a “ Something seems to he th ■;h him,” replied Gibson, ouid say he’s got it bad.” WW hatthf — with hat the ed of. Tickler ’\\'■'’IS of bi dees that day c sver knew. aatter msist- ionscious of but one petition: “ From ill evil and mischief, good Lord, de liver US I” And he made the response ) fervently t h a t h e startled tartled th e entire itly t h a t h e s jation. iy get me out of this scrape,” he murmured inwardly, “ and I solemnly vow I never will play anoth- praetical joke.” At length the hymn was ended ; the choir resumed their-interrupted flirta tions j the congregation settled down to be interested or edified, and D u n ning, with grave dignity, ascended the pulpit, announced and read bis text. T h e pastor, s ittin g In the chancel, al- lowed'a faint smile to flutter round his lip s as h e th o u g h t inw a r d ly, “ . the hoy knew that was my last Sui d a y ’ss t e s t , h e w o u l d n o t b e i d a y ’ t e s t , h e w o u l d n o t b e s o w i l l i n g to preach on it.’ ■Utterly oblivious to all this, Dun ning plunged into the merits of his discourse b o ld ly and w ith eonfidenee. I familiar sentence after another im his lips, the smile faded from the Doctor’s countenance, and he bent his head to assure himself that be was not mistaken. Then he grasped the arms, of his-chair and leaned slightly forward, lis t e n i n g in b r e a t h l e s s a t t e n tion. In a few minutes the sexton re cognized the familiar style, and com pared notes with his assistant. One by one the pillars of the congregation made the discovery, and whispered to their wives, and nodded in affirmation to the inquiring'look of the brother across the aisle. The Doctor’s daugh ter, too, sat in blank amazement, her whole fa( ble fri ,rs of the congregation the saving ssons o f b is sermon. Not one oftirese things escaped the o f Tickler, to whose pri eye o ung con- everl .\Witli a wonder&I feeling,-Sam Jamped up , . . ................ ^ , ^ , carefully, stow\ I tioHj. Sam . mentally rAn over all the :et a b o i o f pen - 1 quotations b e could tbink o f having home; first, However, ing away in onepocki reference to hiding places, beginning with the “ rocks and caves” that he The congregation took a long time to disperse that day, for each one had something to say on the genera’ ject, for surely it was as mystii the veriest gossip couM desire, more Tickler thought upon his freak, the more uncomfortable be felt at its possible consequences. Even if Dun ning should tell the tr uth as far as he knew it, it was doubtiul i f the Doctor would believe him. Looking at it which way he would, tlie only feasi ble plan seemed to Doctor and confess thf Tickler and his companion had been 1, tb be to go to the h o le thin I nly fe go to found they were near the Reser- “ 'Where does the Doctor live ?” he asked, abru]^ “ W h a t D o c tor ?” asked Gibson, in return. “ Why, where we’ve been to church, of course,” said Sam, testily. “ Oh! Dunning’s Doctor ? He lives in Twenty-ninth street, near Lexing ton avenue. Why?” “ Nothing particular; only I want to see him.” “ What for? Hold on!” “ Can’t. Good day!.” and Tickler turned and disappeared down the ave- Altliougli the direction was some what obscure, he soon found the house, and' was informed that the Doctor was in bis library. “ Please show me up immediately— m y b u s i n e s s i s im p o r t a n t . ” The scene which met T ieiler’s eye was not calculated to make his task any easier. I n th e c e n t r e o c t h e r o o m S t o o d th e Doctor, his tall form appearing Titan like in his majestic anger. His face,, “ red with uncommon wrath,” was set with unrelenting sternness, -and his eyes flashed wit’L a .very unpleasant gbt. In front o f —we m igh t alm o st beneath—him sat his . pretty timid, shrinking way, stem the torrent of ^ [easore: “ What concfern is it of yours, I should like to know, that you are try ing to excuse this piece of knavery ?” said the D o c tor, severely. Tickler walked boldly into the ' “ I, b e g your, pardon,- sir,” be' said, “ for.this intrusion, but ah occurrence took place at your church this morn- nlng sent v fence?” ' quite .agree >r. “ P r a y , sir, hias in g w h i c h n e e d s e x p l a n a t i o n . ” “ I quite .agree with you,”ou, saida the y s l M r. D m me to palliate bis of- are that I nee,” sail Sam , ealm lys “ A n d as I am th e only person who can explain the affair, with your permission I will do so.” I f Sam had needed ai — ' ---- ’—•'* to make him i looks of the young lady enough. . The doctor, with unrelent ing dignity, motioned him to proceed. Beginning.as has my narrative,with the account of the sportive challenge in college, Sam made a clean breast of the whole matter, not sparing him self, but telling the whole truth; at th e .same tim e presenting as strongly as possible th e ludicrous side o f th e picture, a n d giv in g a -very g r a p h ic ac count of his Startling discovery at the church door. ■When he had finished he stopped. The doctor mused a few moments, “Now, M r. ------ (I don’t remember your name), let us hear your views on this subject.” Thus commanded, Tickler, looking very shamefaced , made his appearani Dunninj astonishmi “Now, sir,” said the Doctor, in a slightly ironical tone, “will you oblige me by informing Mr. Dunning who did write that sermon ?” Blushing deeply, but ^ ing a word. Tickler pointed to the el der clergym a n . Dunning looked at him in blank nt without utter- bewilderment. “Tl: young “ The explanation of all this, friend,” said 1 the Doctor, your friend, couldn’t write a ser mon ; so he visited my church last Sabbath, and to o k mine, which be gave you as his own. When he found out. what had become of it, to save you, he called on me, and acknowledg ed it like a man.” . “I am very sure, sir,” said Dunning, looking at Sam reproachfully, “that I choice, for I had a on the efficacy ol grace, which I pledge ird is orii ’nal.” ^ ” didn't do it froi sermon prepare; sacram ental grs you m y word is or ig i “ Well, well,” said the Doctor, “ I don’t blame you for what you couldn’t help;” and he turned to speak to Tick- M e a n w h ile the young lady, whose nerves had been m u c h wi’ought upon by her fathei’’s anger, gave w a y to the revulsion o f her feelings. T h e tears would come, and she walked to the window to conceal them. Dunning follow e d her quickly. “ W e bad a storm y tim e before joui’ friend came in,” she whispered, Arii^ T Ri-Trci ci-»cnor»fo on-mo- A LEGEND OP 1776. _ draughts from an earthen ju g that Stood on the table. They were heavily bearded, coarse- 1 coking men, and frfim their dre.=s, which somewhat re.sembled the Brit ish uniform , they were evidently T c - her was a stout builL ilad in the Continental young man, cJ unifonn. ur He sat in one corner of the L with Ms face buried in Ms hands. “ Tom ,” sa id o 3 o f th e Tories, ris- ndently was, “ 'Lorn, you and i were schoolboys together, and I love you yet. Now, why. can’t you give -'j your wild notions and join us ?— id jo in r ou are our prisoner, and if you do not we shall hand yon over to the headquarters, to-morrow, while if you join us your fortune is made, for with your bravery and talents you will .soon distinguish yourself in the royal army, and after the rebellion is crush ed out, your cause shall he rewarded by Enighthood and promotion in the army. Now, there are two alterna tives, which do you choose ?” “ Neither,” said the young man, raising his head and looking the Tory steadily in the eye. “ I am now, as you say, your prison er, but when the clock strikes twelve I snal 1 d isappear in a cloud o f smoke You may w a tch me as close as you please, tie me hand and foot if you will, but a higher power than yours or mine has ordained that I shall leave you at that time.” “ P o o r l y i o w ! h i s m i n d v .said the Tory, ly ju the morninjg.” youth w ith bis head again resting in his hands. AVben the clock struck eleven the - ------- ............ \'\le and some tobar sn al 1 disappear in a clou d o f sm o k e, and neither you nor your coniK ujt even myself, can prevent it. h i s m i n d w a n d e r s , ” ‘H e ’ll talk different- lo'rnin And he return- at at the table, leaving the . b is hea d aga in restin g in prisoner drew a CO from his poi Tory leader if h. And I am sure father suspects some thing about us, but it wouldn’t do to tell him now.” Dunning t h e y w e r e _ tain, and the Doctor stood with his back toward them ; so he gently stole his arm about the slender waist of the daughter and whispered words of en couragement and hope. The old gentleman seemed to have recovered his .good humor amazingly. Americans are too fast reply, but pipe, having ,d comi “ Y o u young Americans are too fast for me,” he said laughing; “ you steal •my sermons, and you ”— b e turned to ward Dunning-“well, I should say you jre stealing m y daughter.” “ It’s too late: he has seen us,” whispered Frank, catching her by the md.^ “ Come, let us speak out.” “ I '{lid not mean to steal her, Doc tor,” he said, “ though I confess I am b a t a poor equivalent, and this is not perhaps the time to ask so great a boon at yuiir hands; but”—his voice ohok-_ a l,r i tttl. t l e — “ we> c o 'u ld n ’t h e l p it.” shook his head with a is e n t , ” b e view you sacramental e,” as a bell come down, boi you, and take dinner with me.” with an impassive face. “Yours is a very improbable story, sir,” he said at length. “What argu- )fferf to attest its eredi- ments can you o bility?” “The still greater—^I might say,the your pi eagerly. The same shadow of a smile which we saw before on the Doctor’s face sw ept over i t again. H e was evident ly beginnin'g to relish the joke. “ T h is is certainly a very singular explana tion,” he said. “ So singular an occurrence necessi tates it,” replied Sam. The servant knocked at the d»or.— “ M r . D u n n i n g is ife t b e p a r l o r , s i r , and would like to see you.” “ Show Mm lip.” I am confident,” said Sam , an x - to speak a good word for his friend, “ that Dunning has come to tell you he did not write that sermon. H e is too honest to deceive any one.” “ Suppose you step behind that cur tain,” said the_ old gentleman, his sense of fun beginning to overcome his displeasure, “ and let me hear what he has to say for himself.” Dunning entered, and, just easting a glance at the young lady, addressed h e r f a t h e r : “ Ever since the service. Doctor, my m ind has m isgiven m e, and I h a v e com e to ask you i f I have d o n e wrong. The sermon I preached this morning was n o t m y own.” “ Not your own!” said the Doctor. “ May I inquire who did write it.” It was the result of a foolish ( class-mate, i “Don”t-y< >n”t-you thinh markable knowledge of ^n?” cen ' by an old a lawyer in this city.” hinkit displayed re- f doctrinal asked the Doc- points for a laymai “Yes, sir ” said Dunning, “but lend was always noted at collegt Ms brilliant talents, and he kne little of everything.” 1 pr< lud of tobacco The young man made immediately filled his , . ____ ^ done w h ich h e arose and com m enced pacing the floor. He took half a dozen turns up and down each side of the room, approach ing nearer the table each time, when having exhausted his pipe, he return ed to his seat and re-fillcd it. H e continued to sm oke until the c l o c k s t r u c k tw e l v e , w b e n b e a r o s e from his seat and slowly knocking the ashes out of his pipe, said : “ There, boys, it’s twelve o’clock, and I m u st leave you. Good bye.” Im m e d iately a ll around th e r< ’:s o f fire hissing ;abin was filled i i, amidst r. The ’ sat in their chairs paralyzed The Doctor quizzical expression. ^ “ I s h a n ’t g i v e -m y co said “ till I know what take of the efficacy grace. In ’ tinkled beh In the mean time,” as a bi ' 1 , both of | § f e f r i l a ® | . A ROYAL TOHB. The mausoleum erected by Queen Victoria, within sight of Windsor Castle, for the remains of her husband, has cost about $1,000,000. T h e amount has been expended b; queen out o f her private fortune.— The exterior is of marble of all col ors and kinds. The building consists o f a central octagon surrounded by three chapels or recesses. The dome o f th e o c t a g o n , in c l u d i n g a c r o s s which surmounts it, is 83 feet, the height inside being 70 feet. T b e in terior' decorations are exceedingly e- laborate in colors and, designs, with gildings, paintings and seulpti profusion. A massive sarcop of highly polished Aberdeen granite, resting on a slab of polished black marble in the center of the octagon, contains the Prince’s remains. Thi is a kneeling angel in bronze at ea corner. Upon the lid of the sarco phagus is a recum b a u t figure o f t h e P r ince consort in w h ite m a rble, tbe of Baron Maroehetti. Th( work of Baron dome above has spangled -with golden stars. The ribs o with golden itb g o l d e n of the dom ceiling of blue. iupporl In each of the s a bronze and golden chandelier is suspended. Painted pannels and sculptures adorn the walls with inscriptions and traceries. In the recess opposite is tbe painting of the resurrection ; above it in the ceil ing, a fresco of the Ascension. There is to he a large painting also, in each of the 0th( \\ ither recesses. said- -to b e The „ result IS said- -to be exceedmglv im- presslve. Every thing that affection could dictate, wealth procure, and art achieve, has been done. The entrance to the mausoleum faces east, and is reached by a flight of black marble steps, leading to a porch supported by granite columns, with a ceiling deco rated Avith Venetian mosaics. The floor of the entrance,ntrance, ass wellell as the igns. e a w as entire structure, is form ed o f varie| ed m a rble, polished an d in la id in p nels of various designs. I nvibible I nk .—^A mixture of b on and onion jnice constitutes i with Avhich letters may be writb lice constituti irs may be written and that are invisible at Lemon juice alone will answer, fancy that the onion makes the appear moi sat. This is a cleaner i icret correspondence than that which , .Jvid taught love-letter inditers to fol low. H e suggests writing with new for milk, and, to bring out the inserip- a tions, dustir it, and asked the he had any objection 3 i n tb e les to h i s s m o k i n g . “ N o n e i n t b e T e a s t , ” be said, adding with a laugh—“ that is, if you’ll promise not to diss in a clot s q u i r m i n g ; tb e ci ulphurc were seen strbk s o f fire hissi m . idL.,„. was a clap of thunder. The Toi sat in their chairs pa: LUd i -with ise sulphurous smoke, amidst which fright. The smoke elearod - away, hu-t tlm prisoner 'was nowhere to be seen. The table '.Avas overturned ; the window was smashed to pieces, and a chair was lyin g on t b e ground outside tbe building. The Tory leader, after recovering from his stupor, gave one glance a- round the room, and sprang out of the window, folloAved by his comrades. They ran through the forest^t,the top of their speed in the direction of the B r i t i s h e n c a m p m e n t , le a v i n g t h e i r muskets and other arms to the mercy of the flames, which had noAV begun to devour the cabin. ‘The next day two young men dress ed in the Continental uniform, were seen standing near the ruins of the old cabin. One was our prisoner of let ns hear all ung a two Tories took posses- c o u l d m a k e rVell,\ said he, \last 3 passing t ^ place, ran out o f the cabin and 1 sio n o f m e . B e f o r e I c any resistance they took me in, and Avbo do you suppose I saw as a leader of their party but John Barton, our schoolmate., He talked with me and tried to induce me to join them ; but I told them I couldn’t do i t ; that a out of my head. About eleven o’ clock I asked him if I might smoke. H e said he had no ----- —o filled m y pipe and 1 m enced vpalking th( I had a pound o f gunpowder in my pocket, and as I walked strewed it over tbe floor. 'W hen tbe clock struck I bid thei 10 objections; s lig h ted i t and coi twelv( I had to go ; hes out of my pipe, the powd ignited, and a dazzling flame of fire ^ve J them I had to the ashes out good bye, and told ; and then knocked shot across and all over the room, fill ing it with suffocating sffioke. Be fore i t h a d c le a r e d aAYay, I over the room, ating sffioke. ore it had cleared aAYay, I had burl ed .a chair through the window, sprang out and departed, leaving them to th e ir own r rest.” flections. Yon know the A v m i GOOD IHHE.BOY little laid^ )oys. L a s t Sunday he asked permission oi his mother to go down to the Gould & Curry reservoir, which his mother re fused on the ground of its being the Sabbath. Good little boys sometimes cry a little, and 'Walter'began blub bering. “ W h y, Walter,” cried his mother, I am astonished! The idea of your Avishing to go doAvn to the reservoir m the Lord’s holy Sabbath to go swim- ning with a lot of bad little boys !” “ Boo-hoo I” blubbers 'Walter, “ I didn’t Avan’t to go a swimmin’ with ’em ma; I only wanted to go doAvn and see the had little hoys get drown ed for goin’ a swimmin’ a Sunday’ —^boo-hoo !”— Virginia Enterprise. The Doctor gree with a hearty laugh. { when the sligl isting S( slightb seted this remark catch up the sooty partich I the loving language visible. i ; ^ “ Is Mrs. Blinkins at home?” asked Mr. Saunders of an Irish girl who ansAYered bis ring at tbe door. “ Yes, I blave she is, sir.” “ I s she en- * ... ‘g®d ?” “ is it engaged, you say ? over the paper, Faix, an’ I can’t tell you s i r ; but she [y. humM milk AYouid kissed Mr. Tincent last eveing as if nake she had never seen the like uv him, and it’s engaged I hlave they are, sir.”
