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a7 TheX mark denotes expiration of sab- V0l. IX. WEDNESDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 26, 1873. No. 47.
Done with Neatness and Dispatch.
- A SECRET.
It is your secret and mine, love!
Ak me! how the dreary rain,
With a slow persistence all day long,
Dipped on the window pane!
The chamber was weird with.shadows,
And dark with the deepening gloom,
Where you In your royal womanhood
Lay waiting for the tomb!
They had robed you all in white, love,
In your hair was a single rose;
A marble rose it might well have been,
In its cold and still repose!
0, paler than yonder earven saint,
And calm as the angels are,
You seemed so near me, my beloved,
Yet were, alas, to far!
I do not know. if I wept, love,
But my soul rose up and said:
"My heartshall speak unto her heart,
rhough here she is lying--dead!
I will give her a last love-token
That shabe to her a si;n
In the dark grave--or beyond it!
Of this deathless love of mine."
So I sought me a little scroll, love,
And thereon in a eager haste,
Let another"s eye should read them,
Soma mystic words I traced.
TThn close in your clasped fingers,
Close in your waxen. hand,
place the sero as ni amulet,
Sare you would understand!
The secre1"is your's and.. mine, love!
Only we two may know
What'wordasihone clear in the darkness
Of your grave so green and low.
But i, whea. we meet hereafter
fa the daws of e rairer day,
You whisper those mystical words, love,
It is all I would have you say!
-From a Ar.]nsz for November.
E WAY SHE DID IT.;:
-0
A liberal education, a handsome I
person, anda wealthy and indulgent
father were among the agreeable
things that were vouchsafed Rob
ert Anson by smiling fortune.
His mother had died in his early
youth, and the father and ton
the only members of the family I
left-had afterwards been more I
like brothers in their relations to
wards each other. They had made
a European tour, and had traversed
every nook and corner of America to
gether, seeking in rational amuse. J
ment, the legitimate enjoyment of a
collossai fortune. But at last there i
came a separation of a year. Anson
desired tc again visit Europe, and
hi father preferred a trip across
the continent to the Pacific coast;
therefore each went his way follow
ed by thte..good wishtes of each oth- I
er..
Mr. Anson, senior, spent six
monthaon4he plains and in Califor
Eia, and made a discovery on the:
roturn trip, Stoppn e as
in hicgo,heaccidentally learned
of the existence relative of his de-i
ceased wife's--a girl whose parents:
had not long before died, leaving
the daughter dependent upon her
own' exertions for support. Mr.
Anson sought her out, finding in
Flora Mighitmay a pretty, intelli
gent girl of eighteen, holding a po
sition as teacher in one of the pub
lic schools. He was charmed w~'ith
her, and at once offered her a
home.
"But I should dislike to be a
dnto anybody," interposed the
dependent young lady.
'The obligation would be on the
er side," replied Mr. Anson ; "I
rihand have only one relative
snwho is in Europe. He will
me soon. Both of us have
fill of traveling, and will
settle down in a home. By
~your home with us you will
'liit a social attraction, relieve
being a bachelor's hall, and
be happy as larks togeth
The outlook was certainly alluring
to the lonely orphan,and she accept
ed the offer, returning to New York
with Mr. Anson.
Thereupon the old mansion was
renovated, refurnished, and soon
~became the headquarters of the
brillianc lique. Flora at one took
her place as a favorite, and Mr.
Anson was proud of his pretty pro
tege.
As the return of Robert Anson
was now daily expected, it may be
well.o-follow him on his trans-at
labtic voya;e. He was barely em
'.ked at Liv l before his eyes
Jof a:decdedly I
irt diaMng.roman, a s
w-anbody~66iavet 5'J
by her air of independence.- 1
miuch past thirty, and at the
A Jof her eharms, she was a re
bewl1 ring crtzaure. So Robert
n'ight at Alrat sight~, and so he h
zd her upon acquaintance. A
3. Morrow she proved to be, and I
:was alone and unprotected on
voyage which had been made
visit some distant relatives in
land. The steamer consumed
e days in the passage. On the
day Robert managed to gain a
' g acquai age. Otn the sec
-had improved it so far as toj
be on easy cha.ting terms, and be
fore the close of the third he was
enslaved.
They walked the deck by moon
light on the fourth and fifth ; and I
before the seventh their billing and
cooilig had attracted the attention
of the passengers. On the cightb,
Robert proposed and was accepted,
and on the ninth they reached New
York.
Mrs. Morrow owned a little house
in Brooklyn, and had a modest in
come from property left by her hus
band. To her home Robert saw her
safely conveyed, and then sought
his own. The changes there aston-. 1
ished him, for his father had kept
it all an agreeable surpriLse. 1
"Robert," said Mr. Anson, as he
welcomed hio., "do you recognize f
the dingy old house ?"
"Scarcely, father," was the reply; 2
ieverything is new, bright, and;n
.heerfal. What does it mean ," 1
"A woman."
"Married?"
"No, no ; but hush ! There comes b
;he cause of it all. Clara, this is my
;on Robert."
"Po.sibly the widow, had she
seen the impression that Clara pro- I
luced on her lover, would have felt
ess secure in her conquest. For j
3ara had improved in spirits since i
ir residence with Mr. Anson, and f
xas even prettier than when she g
irst came there. a
That night, over a social bottle A
)f wine, the father explained to his
on the manner in which he had v
ound Clara, and the light and hap. n
iness she had brought to their n
iome.
"And I have formed a plan in re
erence to her," concluded Mr. An- s
;on.
"What is it ?" asked Robert. b
"You shall marry her."
"Impossible." b
"Why ?"
Thus brought to the point, Ro- 1
>ert confessed his engagement to t
drs. Morrow.
"How old is she ?" asked Mr. i
Inson.
"Thirty.".
"And you are twenty-six-how I
6bsurd! People will laugh at you.
31ara is young, pretty, and I know I
ihe will love you." I
"But I love the widow."
"Nonsense."
"Father!"
"There, my boy, don't take of I
ence. I only meant that you have 1
nistaken admiration for love. That t
rou really love a woman four years
rour senior, and a widow at that, is
absurd. You think you do, but
rou don't. Now, I will tell you 1
vhat I will do. Not another word
vill be said on the subject for one e
nonth. At the end of that time, if I
rou persist in marrying Mrs. Mor-i
ow, I shall marry Clara myself."
"I agree," replied Robert.
The month passed quickly, and
Lt the close the situation was about
ike- this: Robert was fenced between I
ove for Clara and his duty to the
widow; Clara is deeply in love with
Robert; Mrs. Morrow was tr'oubled]
ya certain falling-off in her lover's
ardor, and Mr Anson, who had
steadily refused to see the widow.
hoped for the best for his plan.
The father and son met after sup
per.
"Well, Robert," said the formaer,
"the month is up. What have
you decided on doing ?"
"We have always made confidants
of each other," began Robert. ]
"Certainly.'
"And I shall not hide anything
from you now. I love Clara, and
believe sh.e loves me, but I am en-'
gaged to Mr-s. Morrow, and cannot
honorably break the engagement."
"Then leave the matter entirely
to me."
"What will you do ?"
"I will secure your release by the
widow."
"By fair means 'i"
"By her free consent."
And so the interview closed.
On the following day Mr. Anson
sought the home of the widow. She
vas in, and upou learning who he 1
vas welcomed him cordially. She j
Lshed him to be seated upon the so-l
a, upon which she also gracefqly a
ank. Mr. Anson had made uphis x
aind to be..brief s,rid business-like;
mit the gorgeous widow quite upset,i
tm before he even had broached the e
ubject of his _son's engagement. jI
'hey ca.me to speak of him natural a
y at last, however, and the widower
aw his opportunity.
"What a question, Mr. Anson," she
;eplied, showing her perfect teeth2
n a bewitching smnile ; "am I not go
ug to marry him 7"
"I hope not."
"Sir !" and even the widow's pret-.
ty frown captivated hirn.
"I beg your pardon;' he added,
erestfallen, "I mean that I came
to talk the matter over with you.
i)o ypu think th~e match is altogeth
a gond one ?'
FA,T FOLKS AND THIN FOLKS
A
DR. DIO LEWIS' AND THE BANIDG SYSTEM. cQ
- id
Obesity has been re;arded in all T
ages, and by near.y all people, as a tbJ
great misfortune. Some of the to
Gentoos enter their dwellings by a tu
hole in the roof, and if a person is ci
so fat that they cannot get in, they PC
regard him as an outlaw, swelled t1i
out big with sin. In China obesity is c
ii eonsidered a blessing. In that us
great country a man's mind is mea;- w
ured by his corporeal bulk.
e Over Dr. Stafford, who was enor- a
mously fat, they placed the follow- It
ing epitapl: fr<
"Take heed. oh, good traveler, and do not W
tread hard, ad
d For hear liet DW. Staford in all this church
h
h yard."
e Over a corpulent chandler they he
, inscribed this epitaph: 1c
- "llere lies in earth an honest fellow,
Who died by fAt aud lived by tallow."
w
k- Dr. Beddoes was so stout that a
t lady friend used to call him the
t- "walking feather-bed."
At the court of Louis XV., there
. were two very fast noble.nen-ous- Ti
I ins. The king rallied one of them
0 tir
e on his corpulency, and added, "I li
e suppose you take little or no exer
cise a"1
- "Your Majesty will pardon me," I
replied the duke, "for I generally VC
a walk two or three times around my
- cousin every morning."
L, Many remedies have been resort.
r ed to; vinegar and other acids have a
been used. Dr. Fleming advised t
the swallowing of a quarter of an
co
r ounce of common Castile soap every. t.
r night. Fi
r. Darwin thinks that salt and salt Fl
k meat are efficacious.
i- Mr. Banting, an Englishman, be- ag
a came very fat, and strove by all
a sorts of means to rid himself of his v
-- incumbrance, and at last hit upon a
k method, which he took great pains
y to communicate to others. This W
-was, to live exclusively on meat.
L In 1863 Mr. Banting published tb
a pamphlet giving the secret of his
I relief. He tels us that the sortszro
L. food he particularly advises fat peo
ple to avoid are "butter, sugar, po- th
e tatoes, milk and beer." He urges ch
sI that there need be no stint in quan
L th
y tity. The only thing requiring at
4. 1A. L LL- I:,L- T-Tco
,t tention is the quality. He argues .
.t with much force and spirit against
sugar and other sweet things. He te
thinks that saccharine matter is ofe
all the food the most fattening. o.
a Banting's system has attracted
considerable attention. Thousands L
n of the waddling Germans have tried
pa
*e it, but now few believe in it, not di
T- that it will not reduce the flesh-for
it will coi'tainly do that-but be
ca
-cause it reduces it by producing a
*r diseased condition, particularly of o
the kidneys. Many grave cases of
d the kidneys produced by the Bant.o
-ing system are reported from Ger
1- many
d The only safe and effective treat
ment of obesity is a reduction in the
I quality of the usual food, an in
:e crease of exercise, and a reduction
of the hours of sleep. This should c
li be gradually pushed until the reduc- a
>' tion in weight is one to two pounds a
B- week. This camngt fajl; anad will . r
e invariably improve his health. '1
4 SOLD iNTO SLAVERY. t
... at
d "Carl Marsh is sold into slavery." 7C
said a man to me one day.
there any thing like that now-a- 183
y "Indeed there is," was his an- at
swer. qt'
a "Who bought him, pray '?" ig
"Oh ! it is a firm ; and I rrake
e bqlto any they3 Qwn~ a, good manyh
j1 slaves, and they make shocking bad b(
Smasters." 1le
g Can it be so in these days ? re
Who are they '?' I asked. at
"Well they have agent a and run- pt
nors overywhere, who tell a pretty jt
egood story, and so get hold of folks. (so
yBut the names of the firm--I dare af
t. say you have heard of them-arg 1e
e Spmin@4 Tobacco.' tC
jI had heard ofthem. It is afirmn I
of bad reputation ; and yet how ex
tensive are their dealings! What bc
.town or village but has felt their in- m
d fluence i Once in their clutches, it t
is about the hardest thing in the gC
-wor1t o bisdak away from them
Ton aire agl1d, and that iS the end of i
n it-sold to ruin, soo.ner or later.
e- I have seen people try to escape
w fromnthem. Some it is true, do sa
1. make good their escape; but the
ty greator part are caught, and go back
e. to their chains. b
te To the young I would say: Have yC
d nothing to do with them at all. Fight it.
them; give them no quarter; rgagc do
all yo canv to destroy their influence. le
It is in yrpoetotake a firm
'stand against them, and be suare
d tat oudo take it. Boys, now for h:
i!.-Yuncr Raner. B
"I set," and her eyes droppc
ippropriately, "you object becaui
I am comparatively poor."
"Indeed I do not. The financi;
ispect of the affnir has never bet
3onsidered by me."
The widow here pierced him wi.
look of gratitude.
"It was the difference in, in
i. stammered.
"In social position ?" suggeste
he widow.
"No, no--"
"Ah! I see. You mucar in age
"Yes," he replied, sheepishl:
-You divined the reason, and I wi
>e perfectly frank with you. M
;on is very dear to me, and it hc
)een the dream of my life to sE
Lim happily married to some beaut
al and loving woman."
Here the widow iurned her ghl
ious eyes f ull upon Mr. Anson, an
aanaged to show her arm, whic
tappened to be enclosed in a loo
leeve. It was a particularly rouni
mooth arm, and as white as poss
ile.
"I beg your pardon," hastily cox
inued Mr. Anson; "I know tha
on are good, beautiful, and lovi
le, but-"
"Bat I am too old-I am thirt3
Tot so very old either, although
o feel older than Robert. My lov
>r him has been largely of th
nardian sort-I have petted an
dmired him as a mother might.
Lnd he loves me-"
'-But not exactly as he should
rife. He loves another woman
Lot a handsomer or better womar
ay dear madam-but one younge
.nd better suited to be his wife."
The widow burst into tears-:-pr<
umably, at least, as she buried he
yes in her handkerchief, and he
iosom rose and fell tamultousl
.he widower's courage quite forsoo
im at this to him unexpected er
is. A pretty woman in tears is
ielting object, and the effect upo:
Le widower was all that Mrs. Mo
ow could have desired. She san
own on the sofa in her grief, ver
lose to him. He wanted to co!
ole her, and so be took her hani
t was white, soft,-and warm.
"Please don't cry," he said;
Ave offended and grieved yot
'ray forgive me."
"There, don't pity me," said tb
ridow, in a trembling but musict
oice, "I can't hear it. I. have onl
tobert's welfare and happinessa
Leart-if he can be happy I ougli
o be contented."
"Then you release him '"
"Certainly."
"And lose a fortune-you are
Loble woman."
"What is money to me ? I ar
lone and unloved-I shall try to b
~appy in the consciousness of ha'
nig sacrificed myself for your son.
"He will appreciate your sacr
i.e," and Mr. Anson wiped a tea
rom each of his eyes.
Here Mrs.Morrow wept afresh,an
ier head sank back upon the widov
r's shoulder. Her form shook coa
alsively, andl he put his arm roun
ecr waist to support her.
"My dear madam," he said,'
~an not find it in my heart to tal
tobert from you."
"Rubert," she sobbed, "I sha
lever see him again. I have ni
hing left to desire except your r
tpect and estegin, Without tho:
[ should indeed be unhappy."
Mr Anson drew her closeri
ili-so close that she lay trem1
ing on his breast, and he presse
kiss on her forehead.
"You have both and my deepel
"Then I am content. Let Rol
tit mairry the girl of his choice.
nly claim the privilege of retail
ng an interest in his welfare, and
orner in your esteem."
Mr. Anson promised as he had
he widQw ad4ifon at the door, to ca
gain soon. And he kept his pr
aise so well that the next evenin
ound him there again.
"Victory !" murmured the widos~
s she heard hini entekr ihe hal)
ho will propose to me before I
eaves to-night. Robert is a yer
retty fellow, but he is inconstan
Sie father is infatuated withl y
Iready, and the mnoney is all hig.
refer the faher."
She proved r1abl in hr pri
iion. Before her caller had kisi
d her good night he had offere
er his hand, heart, and fortant
na she had accepted a31 three.
The result was a douile wed4,Th
nd the subsequent hapigg gif a
o.ncerned. Mr. Anscon was a~ de
oted husband, and Mrs. Morro
tiade him a faithful and affectio>
te wife; while both paternal]
v'atched over the younger coup]
Lithough so cleverly fooled by t]
vidow, Mr. Anson never suspecte
t, and never had cause to regret.
A Frenchman, boasting of the i:
ren tive trenius of his country, sail
Sie inEented lace'~ruffles." "A;
ad John Bull, "and we add4
I. FINLAYS NEW IEAD OF T,'
HAIR.
IIere is something r-narkable.
woman in New H1av"n was re. Im
utly bereft of her seLlp by the In
iosyncrasies of a shaf: and belt. hi
tIe doctors saw that -o remedy TI
e evil they would have to resort wi
transplanting, and so they ae- w!
ally succeeded in getting a suffi- de
t number of lieces -orn other be
ople's heads to give this un1for- a1
nate noman a new :alp. We H,
pe those New H1aven doctors da
ed more discretion tan diI he kc
'1o attended a man nimed Fin- of
r, who ineL with a sinn i la r th
cident in Oriskany, N. Y., some is
irteen years ago. Bits of scalp ais
)>m seventeen different persors stl
nre secured by this d.)etor, and w
roitly stitched to the h.,ad Of hi
r. Finlay. When it was done, th
ople came miles to see Finiy's th
ad, and Finlay himself, with his is
eckerboard cranium, was the e
ppiest man in Oriskany. But hi
ien the capillary glands got in O1
>rking order, and the hair com- th
,Meed to grow, the top of that dr
fi's head presented the most ex- flc
tordinary spectacle on record. in
ic Doctor,who was about half the th
ae in liquor, had consulted ex- m
diency rather than judigment, h(
d secured that new scalp with- er
t any reference to future de- m
lopments. We never saw any. ki
ing like it. Here was a tuft of vt
Now hair, and next to it a bit of hi
ick, and then a flame of red, and [
little like silk, and more like m
w, with brown hair, and gray hi
ir, and sandy hair, and cream- fif
lored hair scattered over his en- hi
-e skull. And what a miad man w
nlay was, and nobody could is
ime him. He would stand up im
ainst the barn for an hour at a ar
rie and sob and swear. It was sv
ry fortunate that: the Doctor tu
ts dead. He went off two fil
!eks before with blue ague, at
iich is a mild sort of disease. is
nlay kept his hair cut short, but rc
tit didn't make any difference.
ien he tried dyes, but they only Ic
idc .%-Attvv4 woriiLv Then ht p
t a wig, and this covered up ui
deformity; but sometimes at sU
urch he would get asleep, and in
e wig would fa!l off and make di
e childrea cry. Once at the
anty-fair he fell asleep and th.e
g dropped off, and the Commit- Ie
on Domestic Goods, when they' h<
mel around, stood in front of' g:
Finlay's head for some five fo
miutes in rapt delight. They ri
en immediate!y decided that it ki
Ls the most ingeuiou s piece of cc
tch-work in the list, and never mn
;covered the mistake until they vi
temnpted to pin the premium d<
rd to it. At that Fin lay awoke, tc
d knocked down the chairman w
the committee, and chased the y<
hers out of the building. We -
pe those New IHaven doctors at
~ve been miore particular, as it is d~
t a subject to trifle with.
(Danbury .News. II
-- * 'cc
OLD Pu>u.s.-A story is told in tc
-kansas of a pedagogue who once le
me from Tennessee to establish b:
school. He seared aall eabi st
O1lea idge for a school-. y
em, and after giving due notice tc
ened his institution. Presently ir
e door opened and there appeared ei
the threshold two tall, ungainly hi
uths, each with a shot guna on his vi
oulder. After placing their guns ti
a corner of the room these prom- h
ng pupils took seats on one of p
e rea.r benches. The teacher cx- mn
lined them in regard to their re- b:
irements, and found them both w
norant of their alphabet. Onie ofw
e yomig lien was at once taken inm
ud, and the teacher very properly fc
gan with an attempt to fix the hi
~ter A in his mind. The frequent
petition of the name of this l.etter i
tracted1 the attention of the other
'pil, who came forward and asked'
be sh*' n the letter A. His rea- n
nable request was granted, when, si
ber a moment's examination of the *(
~ter he turned up his nose con"
rnptuously, saying, "Doggon A ! 0
that's all he is he'll be no go in Ii
-kansas," whereupon both the f~
>ys shouldered their guns and y
arched off, leaving the schoolmnas- n
alone in his glory. The peda- ti
gue came to the conclusion that
.hdaeamistake in g4jng
s field of operations, .
"Father, I think you ain't wise,"
id a four year old child. P
"Why, child?"
"Because you have brought that I
.by here when mother is sick, and ~
u have to get a woman to attendb
fc
"Go rock the cradle, Lucy, and f
t us here no more of your jabber." a
The young ladies of Ithaca I
LvO a society called "Cackling
) WI II CLASS, OR A :3 EN-, '
LGERIE OF DRUNKIARDU . -
The most. foolish predlicam..t ,a
In ever got into is to "ev drunk. 1r
driikenness every Iman shows o
i strongst.nost airdent pass on fl
ere are six diiirnkard<:, and if you
li ro into a City dinkin plae, S
iere there are a doZeIi ICen IUn
r the i:dflience of liqnior, you wiII
sure to find these six different ii
4inals. The first is apeSt.uni.*
leaps. :ad sirgs, :ad ye'lls, ad S
!CV.-. 1inakii 41g i OrtS (If n. a
yhie"to excito Ithe la'!.Ihlter 0
his fellows! 0; teibLe--1 C silly is tk
e drunketi elown. The se.,ond J
elic-ken drunk; feels- terribly, 13
haied of himn.s-If ald quietly C
als away to bed, as a chicken I
>Ild crawl under the hay or be- Ir
ad a barrel in the corner. The ri
ird is tiger-drunk. He breaks tl
e heads of fellow-caronsers, and 'I
full of blood and thunder. His
es are fired with vengeance and a
isoul raves with niurderousfur r
this sort are those who abuse d
eir families. The fourth is hog. b
tink. He rolls in the diiL on the I
or, slobbers and grunts, and -o- e
r in the street makes his bed in b
e first ditch or filthi corner he d
y happen to fall into. le is d
avy, lumpish, and sleepy, and a
ics in a grunting way for a little
:re to drink. He will weep for
ndness, whine his love and hug .
i in his arms, and kiss you with a
s slobbery lips arid proclaim how h
loves you. You are the best C
an he ever saw, and will lay down e
s money or life for you. The t
th is owl-drunk. He is wise in a
s conceit. No man must differ P
ith him, for his word is law. He n
true in politics, and all matter r
ust be taken a8 authorities. His b
m is the strongest, his voice the f
eetest, his horse the fleetest, his
I-nips the largest, his town the
lest of all in the land. The sixth U
d last animal of our inenagerie t
the fox-drunk man. He is crafty, I
ady to trade horses andcheat if'
can. Keen to strike a barIgain e
15
aring around with low, eunning
mping. th1rough cracks, listening
der t he eaves. watehing forsome I
spieious thing, sly as a fox, sneak. C
g as a wolf lie is the meanest
uIkard of them all.
It was six P. M., as Miss D- J
~t the club one evening to retui-n i
me. Now Miss 1)-had an en- 1
gement at six P. M., amnd there-a
re took her departure most hur-- I
adly-and in her haste, be it t
iown, forgot to put away all tra- ']
s of her late occupation. in the g
ost excited manner, and with t
gorous chews she was scudding 1
iwn the street, when a sudden t
rn of the corner brought her c
ithin a few feet of the fastidious c
~t captivating rever-end-Dr. M *i
,Now M1iss D-, had a pench
t for this clergyman, and was
sirous of walking before him in i
e most faultless, digni fled man-ti
rz-in a way which would be
me the future wife of Dr. M
do-should lie be induced to se
et such an encumbrance. Em
Lrrassod boyond description at the
dden realizationi of her position,t
css D)- put her hand adiroitly tot
her mouth, and exti-acted an
imenser-ollof Maine's unmention
lexport. Con.sider-ablyeonfused,t
>wever, she appr'oacd the di- 1
ne-when-horrors of horr-ors !t
e man of white ties extended
s clerical hand in greeting.
ink and white, Miss D)-coin
enced to stammer-and draw
.ek a w k wv a r- d I y. Then ovei-e
hlmend with the appearanuce she
as makling-and anxious to be
ost loeyin her gireeting, she
i-got everything else, extended
3r- hand at once, and in her be
ildrmot trus spuc and all
to her pastor-'s haind.
MLcII LoVE.-llere i.s a speci
en of Jamaica literature, in thie
iape of a love letter from a
hiool-mnaster to his sweethecart:
Dear Eliza: I take the liberty
myself to inform you thais few
nes hoping you may not of
nd as often is. I had often seen
ou in my hearts. Their are
yriads of loveliness in my hearts
war-d you. My loving intentions
ecre really unto another female,
ut now the love between I and
nd now his the ecpted time 1/
nd to explain to my lovely ap
aarance," (presumably apparent
ye), "but whether if their be any
ye in your hearts or mind to
ards me it is hard for I to know,
at his I take this liberty to in
rm you this kind, loving and af
etionate letter. * * * Your
fectionate lover affriaid. P. S. -
car Eliza, wecther if you are wvi1
gor not. Please to send mue
asure back. Do my dear."
Love truth.
A If U.11AN LIvE .T ST.KE.
*life w;- at stake, was pdayed
i!ter Hotel llielbur. by fm:r
mun-' stuidents, one of* w%homlne
i r .eyer, was Il Ame-wri:3! h
m Cicia-o. It ap;;e!a:rs ba t
.e 111r!m:: ha:d CUery bIn
timlate fr'i d--, and ihey m-.-t it 1 ;;
~erni. )in the aLblve day,V :t! t he ;
V:L m TaLve rl W, cre t he V Irank
o :J, an1d finally bit.-:r : to i
re.O;ie of* tho:n. C t 0- sol
C.>c!;d Mkeyerf a ~>::- 1y sI
n), WhrIupon th hitter 'roing:
eballenged hil. Ottcndorf zle
-pted the challenge iminediately.
eyel, i) a tone of great excite an
en t, proposed that all Four shouid res
-pair to the Ritter Iote! and an
iere play a game of "sixty-six." tiv
he looser shlkld shoo I imself an
ich a pistol. This proposal wa W
C-epted, and the four students on
-paired to the hotel. They or- i,
e r e d wine and c a r d s to be af
roughit up to a private room. and de
uldeken. one of the four, procir- vo
I two loaded pistols from a neigh- i
aIing armorer. The foarth stu a
unt dealt the cards, and Otten th
c)rf and Meyer seated themselves. el
pistol lying by the side of e aeb- er
he firit few minutes the galle qu
-Mained almost even. But when Ii
[eyor obtained a single advan ta e, in
;id Ottendorf, .coing that le ws of
>st, suddenly jumped up ard ex- C,
aiming: "A dieu my friields,"seiz- do
I his pistol, and shot Iliis If th
irough the right temple. He felA th
corpse to the floor, while his com- e
a:ions stood as if petrified for a el
ioisont, LI hI huried f*nlromi the
om11. When the proprietor of tlIe to
otcl hastened into the room ie er
)und the dead count lying on the
oor. IIe gave an alarm, and the
olice started ill pursuit of the T
jgitive students. Late in the af- w
'rnoonI they succeeded in al-resting1' ed
nmich who made the above gi
tatement. Meyer and [udeken a
scaped across the French front- sa
r. Ottendorf was the son of a to
calthy landed p r o p r i e t o r in hi
Vesthalia. At the time of his g<
eath lie was Oily ilineteel. at
-01
A 'ftUE B I L L.-"S o il e days i
ince," says the Annolca (Mirin.) w
lepuMican, "a well-dressed couple, tc
thle pr-ime of life, s'topped at a ti
ol in a neighbor-ing town,f
nid, sending for a justice of the a
cace, informed that functiona-y tI
hat they wished to be mnarriied.n
he justice said, 'All righ t,' and in. n
uired their na:nes. After being i
old, it struck him that lie had t
er-formed the same ser-vice foi-t
he lady sonme years befor-e. Up.
n inquir-ing if such was not tile
ase, the lady said she had been m
*arr-ied previously. 'HIave you a
bill from y-our former husband ?' as
.sked Mr. Justice. 'Yes,' she re- ti
elied, 'l1 are a bill.' This being ti
atisfactory, tIhe ceremony was hi
>er-formeCd, and the couple wer-e mE
Welar-ed 'man and wife.' As thbey)
vere about departing, the Justice, o
vho had never seen a 'bill of di- h
ror-ce,' and having a strong desire j
o behold the document, thought le
his an excellent opportunity to
atisfy his curiosity. iIe, ther-e- h
bre, said to the lady :'hIave you
he bill with you?' 'Oh, yes,' she
eplied. '.I-ave you any objection
o allowing me to see the bill ? n
aid our- friend. 'None whatever- r
lie r-eplied, stepp)ing to the door- t
nd calling to a little boy sonme 0
bree or- four year-s of age, she b
aid: 'IIere Bit! comue herec quick :
ierc is a gentleman that wishes I
o see you.' The gentleman wilt
ArrlnmAI4 S:.s-The con ver
ion of the Color-ada desert into a
;reat iniland lake is not tile on ly
>roject of tho kind no0w in the
wor-ld. All deser-ts hlave at somen
ime been the beds of seas. Some $
vhere there has b)een an inlet
.hriiough which the waters fle d
I.s it i-uns now thirough the Strai ts v
>f Gibr-altar. An uphleaval in the
~arrow pass would convert the U
~iedi'err-anean bottom into0 a de
sert. Some such phenomenon hlas
ilready inter-posed the Sahiara be
twe-en NorthIerni and Sou ther-n Af
rica. A Captain Bouldin has
f'ound that this desert, in Algeri a,j
hfediter-ranean2.- .IIe has brought
the subjet befor-e the Geogr-aphi-.
sal Society of Paris. That body I
as opened a correspondence with
he Government of Tunis, and e
>roposes a survey of a canal ei
-oute fr-om the Gulf of Cabas to tIhe L
[ake McRthir. .lf this is ac-coin- E
>lished, and the waters of the J
fediterranean once swallow the r
sorthern edge of this formidable st
lesert,whlo can tell where they wilfl :
stop, or for-esee the str-ange possi1- Iin
bilities of the pirojeet ?-Ecchkange.
irn of b sirIess. believe nc,there
ow ".nd thnci, a profitable vent
1i doing nothing at all. In
powcr to put business aside,
iding .w an1d thIe-c iII a per
t quiet, things some;ctines solve
%elves, wh! we gi-.c them
It :avani g. which refusCs to
ne clear for :ll o'ur trying. We
know l%, by simply taking
. lexity itio the deepest
:e his side Of death-a good
;'bs .!Cep-we can do better
neti,mes than it we sat up and
ou-it. -at our task all nigh!.
jei Mattiew Murray. of Leeds,
lited to see his way through
ne perplexity iii his inverntions,
1 all other effort was of no use,ho
ed day ai. nig1h t from all noise,
I all uffort Save the effort an ac
e man has to keep himselfquiet;
I the thing he wanted would
al in and look at him, and light
him, and stav. as birds used to
lit on the old hermits, no more
aid ofthem than of the trees un
r which they sat. And mothe,rs,
a may care and toil incessantly
- your little ones, never resting
noment in your devotion, and
n, because you never do quit,
teir your very closet with a little
ek to mend, you shall never be
ite able to take the whole sun
lit and sum of your motherhood
.0 your heart. You will be so full
care about the bread that perish
its to miss the bread that cometi
wn froi heaven. No person in
a world needs so much, now and
:n, to be still, and open her soul
ly to Lie silence as In earnest,
ergetie, whole-hearted mother.
us eternal activity is almost sure
run at last in shallows.-Rob
Collyer.
TnE GENTLENESs op PoWER.
iere is no g e n t I e 1 es s in the
id like that which is manifest
by Power. To sec a strong,
lnt-built man meet in the way
ittle child, arid raise it up, and
Y to it, "b!ess you my darling,
see lis great, coarse hands, and
s arms that areo like bears' Daws,
down. and acCImpanying the
t with some sweet words, Hft
e child to his bosomi--thac is a
ost beautiful sight. There never
as a breast-pii i% a man's bosom
be compared with a sweet lit
child. Tro see a slender, pale
ced woman and mother take ui
child is b,eautifui ; we expeei
at ; but to see a great, brawn)
an take up) a child, with tender
~ss and gentleness, is beautifu
deed. Everybody marvels a
at. 'A little child shall lea<
em."
Nothing is so sweet as the soft
iss arid gentleness of p)ower. A
an that has a gigantic intelict
man that can control battalion:
id armies in the field ; a mar
at has courage and will ; a mar
at has a loirdly p)ride, and know
s strength, and moves amon;
en with power--such a man
ho is subdued by the infltune
the dear spirit of God, and wh
is such sweetness and gentle
ss that he treats all men with
uity and kindness, and forbear
ice arid patience has wvhati
arec meant by gentleness.
( If. WV. Beeher.
"What do you call that ?" indig
aiitly asked a customeri at a chea
ystauranit, pointing out an objet
iat lie had discovered in his plat
r hash. "Wristband. with sleev4
utton atta~checd,sir." sa id the wai
.briskly. 'WVell do you conSic
iat a proper thing for a man t
nd in his hash ?'' asked the eu:
>meir, i : wrath. 'Go od heaven;
ir !"' cried the waniter, -'would yo
xpect to find a ten d"llar sil
umbrella in a fifteen cent n!late<
ash ?"'
Andrew .Jaikson wais onice mnaking~
urmp speech in a country. village ot
Kest. d1ust as lie waus conrcludir:
Lins Ken2dal.who sat beside hin
hi.spered. 'Tip 'emi a little Lati
beneral; they wont be satisfied witl
ut it." The 'hero of New Orleanm
nst:anthy thought of a few phrases i
ne.w. and, ini a voice of thunde
;.,und up his speech, by exclainiir;
1- pl.urIb..us unmum. Sine quai; non. N
las ultra. Multum in pazrvo." TI
ifect was tremendous, and the shou
Taavati nrWEEN~ AiiCA1. A.N
:UoRP.-A DeW route between Nea
ork anid London is proposed. I
unsists of a railroad from the formec
ty to Shippgan, on the Gulf of St
awrance. steamer to St. George's
arbor, Newfoundland. railroad to St.
hm's, steamer to Valencia. Ireland.
ilroad te St. Geord&s channel, and
eamner again to England. It is esti.
ated that the voyage may be madc
seven days and three hours.
(Sientific American.
PASSENGER PIGEONS.
31(z-t boys and girls who live in
the country have seen wild pigeons,
and know what graceful birds they
are. The muscles of their wins are
very large and strong. Audubon says
that these pigeons travel at the rate of
a mile in a minute, and that if one of
them were to follow the fashion. an:d
take a trip to Europe, it could cross
the ocean in less than three days. We
can all exclaim with David; "Oh, that
I had wings like a dove !" But
quite as wonderful as their speed, is
the great power of visio2 these birds
possess. As they journey through
space, they can overlook hundreds of
acres at once, and their sharp eyes
can discover at a glance whether the
country beneath them is barren, or
supplied with the food they need.
On the day I speak of, the birds
flew very low, and hundreds, of them
alighted on the trees in passing. They
often alight in such numbers that
great branches are broken off, and
sometimes the pigeons are crushed to
death. The fields bordering the river
were covered with them; but they
only stopped to rest, apparently, or
perhaps to pick up a little food, and
were again on the wing. As these de
tachments of the vast army pigeons
rose .from the grouud, with a great
flapping of wings, others alighted;
meanwhile the main flock was passing
steadily over our heads. The proces
sion seemed endless, for the day wore
on, and still the swift-winged birds
rustled through the air, and still the
coming flocks looked like delicate pen
eilings on the distant sky. It was a
rare day for sportsmen. Instead of
roosting in a neighboring forest, as
we hoped, the pigeons flew over into
Wiscousin. But every day through
the summer, stray flocks foraged
among the oak groves about us;
and their shadows swept over sunny
slopes and fields of waving grain, like
flitting clouds.-From S't. -icholas
for No r.
THE LIAILITY OF EDITORS TO
THEIR FRIENDs.-What is the liabil
ity of an editor to his personal friends?
Strictly speaking, he should have
none; should attack his father if lie
disapproves his speeches, or lash his
wife's last book if lie thinks it rubbish.
This is, no doubt abstractly true,
as it is also abstractly true to
steal an epigram from an Australian
who once wrote a pamphlet on the sub
ject, that an editor should live in a
cellar, but in practice men will not
comply with either condition, and such
demands would drive all the men with
hearts and tempers out of the profes
sion. It is, nevertheless, excessively
difficult to find a rule that shall be
morally sufficient; for silence, though
it will meet the case of a book, unless
of the first importance, will not meet
that of grave political action. We
ssect that in this ease the isractice
of parliament is still the best guide,
adthat the journalist is bound, as
the statesman would be bound, to do
his duty and take the consequences.
He might he a little more gentle in
his language, a little more apologetic
in his tone, but the attack must not
be deprived of its effieiency for -any
- personal consideration whatever.
(London ~Spectator.
- I
i How TO Gaow BEAUTIFUL.-The
woman who is indifferent to her lookb
is no true woman. God meant wo
man to be attractive, to look well. and
-please; and it is one of her duties to
[P carry out the intention of her Master.
t But that dress is to do it all. and to
e saffice, is more than I can be brought
to believe. Just because I do love to
-see girls look wel as well as live to
-some pup-e I would urgec upon
o them snehi a course of readingr arid
-study sha1l confer such charms as
3no mo,;;'/ canf supply. N. P. Willis
u Iwrote.a very pretty paragiaph on the
k power of education to beautify; that it
'fj asolute!v chiscel the features ; that
-he had seen many a clumsy nose andl
thich~ w'ir of lips so muodified by
a thought. awakened by active senti
t] ment. as to be unrecogiizab,le. Anud
,he put it on that grounr'd that we so
ioften see people. homely and unat
Stractive ia youth, bloom in middle
-. life into a softened Indian summer of
good looks and mellow tones.
* PiiYstcIANs' PREsCRiPTIONs ANTD
THE arAIP TAX.-The Commission
CJers of Intet-1i Revenue have decided
that where a medMe is accompanied
up Uj>y the ,nukerg, z,:ucnuetrer or
cJ:npozunder with the view of giving"
such pecide dtiretionis directly to te
patiezt. no matter f'ro:n whiat source,
sun-h directions and such in formationi
is obtained. from the experienee and
observation of a physician, from umii
eal books or otherwise, the style is the
same. and it is similisr to the style
which the makers and venderr cf pa.
tent medicines adopt. and is liable to