Decatur Eagle, Volume 13, Number 27, Decatur, Adams County, 15 October 1869 — Page 1

THE DECATUR EAGLE. PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY A. J. IIIIJL? EDITOR, PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR, OFFICE—Ou the west side of Second Street, over Dorwin & Brother's Drug Store. Terms of Subscription. One copy, one year, in advance . §1 50 If paid within the year 2 00 If paid after the year hasexpired, 2 50 Papera delivered by carrier 25 cents additional will be charged. No paper will be discontinued until all arrearages are paid, except at the Option of the publisher. Rates of Advertising-. i i i I I 3 | H H gi ~ C r S ’?!??- * ■ ’ 2 « Bp.ee. ■ S | f 2 I §* | * i » ( § ■ ■ X'_t. .i J f r : l j Hall Inch.. si»l ion ’SO 2 sir 350 5.5111 s IHI One “ 751 125 2no 3 50! 4511 Gnolo no I wrt ’* ' 1 T»i 2 «H» 3 501 5 (Mt 7 0<»; lojmi 17 no Throe ' ’75 2 731 4 s«i 6fo 9 ( g, n n(I 22 (io Four “ J' 225 330 5 Mil s onjl no 27 00 J 2 75 » 23, 6 23' 9 .50 13 no 2! iM» no ITalf ‘ 1 123 6 20] 9|> 11 63 1A 65 30 00148 00 }- 4 ‘‘ •*» 77; 765120020 so 24 30)39 (>(F6f (>0 v*W t’TjMiiloon I 5 imi<2s 0n.30 no Boolpooo Special Notices.—Fifteen per cent, additional to the above rates. Business Notices.—Twenty-five per cent, additional to the above rates. Legal Advertising. One square [thespace of ten lines brevier] one insertion, §2 00 Beach subsequent insertion. 50 No advertisement will be considered less than one square; over one square will be counted and charged as two; over two as three, &c. Local notices fifteen cents a line for each insertion. , Religions and Educational notices or advertisements may be contracted forat lower rates, by application at the office. Deaths and Marriages published as news—free. officjal directory. District Officers. Hon. Bob t Lowry Circuit Judge. J. S. Daily, ... . Circuit Prosecutor, lion. D. Studabaker Com. Pleas Judge. B. F [lnch ... . Com. Pleas Prosecutor - - j County Officers. Seymour Wor.len ..v Auditor ' A. J. Hill Clerk Jesse N'iblitk .. . . .Treasurer. M. \ . B. Niincoke Recorder. James Stoops, Jr Sheriff. H. C. Pe'ers >n Surveyor. Sim. Bollman ..•.School Examiner.; Josiah. <'i’awi'o.o.l, | JaS irT. > . Commissioner Georg- Im k'v. J Town Officer*. Sam. C. Bollman . ... Clerk. | • has. Stewart Treasurer A Marshal. Herman Bosse, ) D ivil King. Trustees. | Da vi l Sho.v-.-rs, J Township Officer*. I’xiox.—Trustee, David Erwin; Justice of the Pence Wi limn Celiais. and David Gleckler: Conctaales, Geo. B. ( Luc i on-i Nelson I>. Suttits. Boot.—Trustee, »>hn Christen; Justices of the Peace, Henry Filling, and Samuel S Mickle; Co'jitaLiesj Reuben j Baxter an I J o’> n Sehurger. * Preble.—Trustee, F. W. Gallmcver: ■ Justices of the Pence, John Arehbohl ! nnd James Ward; Constables, Joseph E. I Mrnnand Henry Dearman. Kirkland.—Trustee, Jonathan, Bow- ' era; Justice of the Peace Win. I). Hoff- 1 man; Constable, Manassas Sartf and Da- i ▼id Stule. W asiiin.; r >v. - -Trustee, Conrnd Brake ; Justices of the Peace. C. M. France and Samuel Merryman; Constables, Feeder- ; Ick Mcitz and E. P. Stoops. Sr. Many's.- Trustee, Esains Dailey: i Justices of the Pence, Samuel Smith, Win j Comer and S.B. Morris; Constables, S. B. Fordyce; Washington Kern and Isaac Smith, Bluecheek.—Trustee, John Emerv; Justice of the Peace, Williams and J. C. Tindall; Constable, J. McCar- ' die. Monroe.—Trustee. Geo. 11. Martz: Justice of the Pence, Lorenzo D. Hughes. Samuel Smith; Constable. Juhu M. Jn-' cobs. French.—Trustee, George Simisson; I Justices of the Prace, Lot French and V. ; D. Bell; Constable, Edward Leßrun. Hartford.—Trustee Peter Hoffman! , Justices of the Peace, Martin Kizer, sen. I and Benj. Bunyan; Constables, John ' Simison, Lewis C. Miller and David i Runyan. W in i3ii.—Trustee, Henry Miller; Justices of the Peace, A. Studabaker and James Nelson; Constables, Jacob Butch- ‘ •r and A. G. Thompson. ’ Jeefehson.—Trustee, Justus Kelly;' Justice of the Peace, John Fetters; Con- 1 stables, Daniel Brewster and Jesse Me- | Callum. Time of Holding Courts. Circuit Court.—On the third Monday in April,*»nii tha first Monday in No-, j rember, of each year. Common Pleas Court.—On the second Monday in January, the second Monday in May, and the second Monday in September, of each year. Commissioner s Court.—On the first i Monday in March, the first .Monday in lune, the first Monday in September, •nd the first Monday iu December, of each year. CHURCH DIRECTORY. St. M art's (Catholic). —Services every Sabbath al 8 and 10 o'clock, A. M_, Sabbath School or instruct ion in Cate-' •hism. at 11 o clock. P. M.; Vespers at 2J 1 •'clock, P. M. Rev. J. Wemhoff, Pastor. | ‘ Methodist.—Services every Sabbath at 10J o'clock. A. M.. and 7 o'clock. P.. M. Sibbitb School at 9 o'clock, P. M. | Rev. Chariee Wilkinson, Pastor. VaesnYraaiAN.—-No Pastor. Prayer ' Meeting every Sabbath at 1 o'clock, and 8 thbaCh School at 2 o'clock, P. M.

The Decater Eagle.

Vol. 13.

ATTORNEYS. JAn E » it. 0 80 BO , Attorney rxt Law, DECATUR, INDIANA. DRAWS Deeds, Mortgages and Contracts. Redeems Laud and pays Taxes. OFFICE--Opposite the Auditor's Office, vlOnlitf 18. S. PETERSON, Attorney r»t Xwo-xscr, DECATUR, INDIANA. IjROMPT attention paid to all business entrusted to his care. Isa Notary Public, and draws Deeds, Mortgages. , and other instruments in writing. 1 OFFICE—In D. Studabaker's Law Os- , fice. vl2n3Btf i _ i ' ~ ; DAAIEL D. HELLER, Attorney a,t Xwewv, '•DECATUR, INDIANA. TTTILL practice his Profession anyV » wheie in Indiana or Ohio. OFFlCE—Opposite the Recorder's Office. vl()ns2tf D. ST (ID AB AKER, , Attorney at Ijcx-W, " DECATUR, INDIANA. ILL practice law in Adams and ndv V joining counties; secure pensions and other claims against the government; buy and sell real estate; exam nc titles and pay taxes, and other business pertaining to real estate agency. 13-23 PHYSICIANS. i F. A.tELLkFF. W. It. SCHROCK . JELLEFF A SCHROC K, PhyglcianN and Surgeons, DECATUR, INDIANA. OFFIt.E—On Second Street, opposite the Public Square. vßn!stf. CHARLES L. CI RTISS, Physician and Surgeon, DECATUR, INDIANA. HAVING permanently located iirlbis place, offers his professional servi- ’ Ccs tothe people of Decuturand vicinity. I OFFICE—At the Burt House. 11-86 AAD RE U SOR G , Physician and Surgeon, DECATUR, INDIANA. OFFICE—On Second Street, over W. G. Sjwucer tt Brother s Hardware Stoic. vßn42tf. 'A, J. ERUIA, J 3. |>.. Surgeon. ' Dispensary, zKveline Block, j v11n25 FORT WAYNE. IND. S_ C. A 1 E KN, 12 . D.. it I SiDI.NT Ear and. Eye Surgeon, FORT WAV.Ni:, INDIANA. OFFICE—S' u;li west corner Main N .CaUioun str‘Ms. over Drug Store. Ey.sTiiScrtid. 12-44 DENTISTRY. IS. ,T 3. McCOX3>ELL, Surgeon Dentist, DECATUR, INDIANA. AH work neatly executed mid warranted to give sati —v-LX-U-J isfactiiii. Cail and examine specimens, OF Fit' E—Opposite the Public Square over Heller's Law oCite. . , vjln49 REAL ESTATE AGENTS. JAMES R. BOBSO, Real Estate Agent, DECATUR. INDIANA. | rpHREE THOUSAND ACHES of good 1 farming land, several Town Lots, and a large quantity of wild land for ’ sale. If you want to buy a good farm Ihe will sell it to you. If yoU want your land soul he will sell it for you. No ; sale, no charge. vlOnG AUCTIONEER. Cll ARLEX M. FRA ACE, 2ku.ctionccr, DECATUR, INDIANA. 4 NNOUNGES to the public that he is ; A V a regularly Licensed Auctioneer, and will attend all Public Sales when , requested. OFFICE—Iir J. R. Bobo's'Law office. J. P. WAGGONER, Licensed Auctioneer, I RESIDENCE, near Salem, Adams Co., k Indiana. P'.st-Offiee address, Wil- ! shire, Ohio. Fi-jy-Special attention given to crying . public sales. HOTELS. MIE XX E 11 011 XE , I. J. MIESSE, Proprietor. Third St., Oppotite the Court Iloute, DECATUR, INDIANA. r INHE traveling public will find this 1 Hotise a desirable stopping place. Good sample rooms. vlln'J MAYEK HOUSE. J. W. BULL, Proprietor, Corner of Calhoun and lloync Strretf, FORT WAYNE, INDIANA. • vl2n7 If MAIN STREET EXCHANGE. A. FREEMAN, Proprietor, IF<wt .Vain Street, near the I'ublie Square. FORT WANYE. INDIANA, vllnll If I BED EK IN HOI XE, A. J. H. MILI.S, Proprietor,1 On Barr, het ire en Cvlumhia atni Verin Sir. FORT WAYNE, INDIANA. / x ENERAL Stage Office. G.mxl sta- , Vl .bleingin connectioM with thizhouse. .19.0A ' if

DECATTTR. INIX.B'rtIDAY OCTOBER 15 1809.

Dreamland, i A kiss for his lips ( and one for his brow, And two for his sleepy eyes; No dangerous foe in the wide weld Knows where the little one lies. The moon shines soft and the winds j breathe low. And the bright stars twinkle on high, And up from the court-yard the fountains flow Floats in like a lullaby, i The little one's limbs are tired with play He's gons to the land of dreams. To the daisied meadows where he may stray, Or bathe in crystal streams. * 1 To endless forests of stately pines Where each is a Christmas tree! To wonderfu' gold and silver mines. And<the treasures of the sea. To a milk-white pony that he may ride, And down a streamlet clear A tiny canoe his hand may guide _ Wiih_uever a thought of fear. The little one reigns a monarch, now, Whatever he likes his own; A fairy crown is upon his brow, And his is a magical throne. He has fruits and flowers and marvellous toys. And all that is dninty or rare; And troops of merriest girls and boys | Hisfieasures and sport to share. I When morning reddens the eastern sky, And the lights of Dreamland pale, Will he awaken from sleep with a heavy sigh To life that is weary and stale? ■ i i No; his kingdom falls at thedawn of day. Its magical charms grow dim; ■ But the world that to us seems cold and i I R™y I Is still Fairyland to him. FIFTEEN CIFNDKED DOL- i L.ilvS ‘•Don’t fret Jennie, Ir.ss; you i ; shall have the earrings, anti somej thing oyyr for a ftillcd tut-k or] ' w haJeHr you may fancy, (.'rune, ' , take your choice, girl.,, I Jennie come slow ly forward ami ' i rested her hand on her father's . shoulder, as she glanced listlessly I over, the wares’which the pedler spread before her. i ‘•Humph ! it’s not the earrings’ nor the tuck that she's worrying a bout,” observed the mother, glancing up sharply from the inspection 'of ti gay chitilz. “She’s tak''U on ‘ about the lad, Frank Duncan, who. ■ neighbor Burwell told us. is to ■ leave day after to morrow to seek • his fortune as he says.” “And 1 hope he’ll find it.” said ; the farmer, gravely. “He’s a good j enough lad. and I'd have nothing ! against him if he’d give less time ! to books r.nd more to work.so’sto | make money enough fora to ; live on. When young Duncan j comes back with 8300 in hand,: Jennie. I’il think better of him ; j but no daughter of mine shall mar-. rv a peniless man.” As the farmer spoke, he was ’ slowly and carefully untying a well 1 j worn leather wallet, which he had ! , taken frowthe upper drawer of the I old fashioned bureau with brass handles which stood in a corner of the large kitchen. From a goodly sized bundle of notes he selected one of ten dollars, which he handed to the pedler. “I’ve no change,” he replied to ; some remark of his wife. “Tliey’rc ! tens and twenties—one hundfed 1 and twenty-five dollars a in all," he added in a tone of satisfaction. , “Jekyl’s done a good job wi’ the 1 cattle this year, and if the crop ; turns out as well, you shall lifive something better than that chintz, . Hetty, for Christmas time, and you, i too. Jennie, lass.” - . The peddler's small, keen, black eye glanced furtively at the notes as the fanner smoothed them out • upon hi§ knee and replaced them In i bis wallet. “Here's one hundred, clear, for the bank,” he observed, as he tied tiic wallet securely with its rod ta|*e • string. “I’ll take it down to Lo gansville Thursday. Meantime. ■ Hetty, put it away in the little box there.” — Mrs. llallet deposited the wal- ■ let carefully in a tin box, and rel placed the box iu the barcau draw- j ; er, which she locked, hanging the : key on a nail which was driven in i the back of the bureau itself. T Jennie having selected her oar- j ' rings and piece of lace for a tuek. sat down to sew the latter on the < neck of her best blue delaine dress. ' There was to l>e a “lH»e" at neigh- : bor Burwell's that avowing and a , dance and though in no dancing mood, she would go, for site knew that Frank Duncan was to lie there, and this would be their last meet ing before he departed to “seek his fortune” in the city. -■ *- j Poor girl! it was her first sor row; and we all know how hard are such to the young with their j helplessness, their inexperience

} and their ignorance of life. As she i : sat on the side of her little bed, ; ' sewing the lace on the blue dress, ; ' she looked and felt very sad., j Much as she loved her parents, she] could not help thinking them cruel : and unfeeling in this instance, when ■ they must know how dearly she loved Frank, and that she could never be happy without him. 0 He : was so clever, so handsome, so good—and yet they objected to him because he was poor! As if she, or Frank either, minded poverty ! Oh, if he had only that five I hundred dollars that her father had l spoken of. But five hundred dol- > lars ! how in this worlH could Frank ; ever get this enormous sum ? | Iler mother’s voice, calling her ;to supper aroused her. With coun- : try hospitality, the good dame had ■ added some extra dishes to the usual evening jneal, and she looked a little disappointed at the pedler’s non appreciation of the good i things set before him. He seemed absent and reckless ; and declined the proffered night’s lodging, and said be must go “right on” to Logansville that night, in order to 'meet a friend whom lie expected ! there. So, after joining in with a . fervent “amen” to the host’s after grace, and thanking them in a i pious strain for their hospitality, i lie shouldered his pack and resumed his journey. From the wini dow Jennie looked listlessly out, ; saw ins tall form disappear at a j bend of the road about a mile dis taut, and dreamingly heard her fa ther remark: ‘ ~ i “I don’t fancy that stranger, i Somehow he don't look to me like 'a genuine pedler—not sharp ei nough at bargaining: not inter- : ested enough in his business. And , then I notice he never looks you ; rigt in the eyes—always a bad i sign.” “Well,” observed his, thrifty ! wife, “I can't say as I liked him the less for his easy bargains. He ujon’t make much profit by ’em, ; though, I guess, judging from that old camlet coat of his, with its patched elbows and old fashioned long tails flapping about his heels. I can remember my grandfather i had just such another. Jennie, sirl, if you're goimr to the ‘bee.’ ■ it's high time to bestir yourself, • Why, it’s nigh six o'clock already. 11. It was a still, moonlight summer ‘ night, as Jennie llallet walked lingeringly along the meadow path, i > homeward from fanner Biwwyll's. I Lingeringly—for her hand was 'clasped in that of Frank Duncan, ■ and he was talking to her earnest ■ Iy, as they passel under the shadow 'of the water willows, or paused! I for a moment on the rustic bridge ' that spanned the meadow creek. “11l do it Jennie! Here I swear—” “Oh, Frank, don't swear!” “Then I promise—yes, here I promise not to rest, day or night, until, 1 have 8500 to show to your ' father." “But how will you get it, Frank ?" I “I don't know, yet; but I'll find; out a wav —only, Jennie, dear, 1 fear it will be'a long time.” i They walked on in silence. “I wish I were rich !" burst forth i Duncan, passionately. “I never cared for it before, but I do now, for your sake—and mine, Jennie* 1 If I had only one thousand dol lars!” To her idea, he might as well' : have wished for the wealth of! Monte Cristo. “It is not a large sum, Jennie. Yet five hundred dollars would ! purchase that pretty little place' near the old church, that you ad ■ mired so much, and with another' ; five hundred to begin—oh, Jennie, j only think how happy a little mon 1 ey could make us!’’ “It's no use thinking,” said the' girl sadly. “And, Frank, you are so given to thinking and dreaning that"— she looked up with a tender half! smile—“l'm afraid you will never' ' set to work hard enough to make i even the five hundred.” “I'll try, Jennie. Never fear ofi ' that." They had now reached the bottom of farmer llallet's garden, and, here they paused awhile, exhaust ! ing a few last sentences. Then j with a sad, lingering adieu, they! parted. It was 11 o'clock. • Jennie heard | j the old kitchen clock strike as she! I passed slowly up the garden walk I She paused st the gate and looked . back tc ward the meadow with a, - strange yearning ami desolation at | her heart. He was gone, and the I world seemed very dreary to her. I She feared it would never be bright' again So the young always think ■ in their first disoppointinent Turning at length to open the' gale, her foot struck upon some-| thing soft and yielding. She look jed down, and saw some dark ob ject on the ground, nearly hidden

beneath the low lilac boughs. | Taking it up. she saw that it was a i coat, —her father's, she fancied.— . and, with a momentcry wonder as i to how it had come there, she went ■softly into the house, taking the ■ garment with her. As she stole up stairs to her own little room she fancied she beard a slight sound below in the’kitchen adjoining her parents’ bedroom. She heard it again as she was retiring, and then a step on the [ittle back stoop ; and, as she looked out of her window, fancied that she saw a figure disappearing through the garden gate. She wondered who it could be. Was it some one looking for the coat? and, turning to where she had mechanically dropped it on a chair, she examined it by candle light. It was not her father’s. It was a patched and faded, long skirted camlet coat,—-the coat which she had seen worn by the I pedler that evening. “He will come back for ip per- , haps,” the girl thought; and she hung it carefully on a nail in the upper entry closet. But the pedler never came back for the lost garment. And it was understood why. when on Tliursday, Farmer H:d!et opening the bureau to take out his hundred dollars for deposit in the Logansville bank, foi nd the tin box and the wa kt s: f■. but the money all gpne. was made for the pedler, but in va n. No one had seen a personatail answering his des cription,”nniess it was" a pious Methodist preacher who had passed hurriedly through Logansville on a journey to the west as a minsionary to the Indians; and to suspect him would be a shame! Yet, some time later, neighbor I Auawell, reading a description of a noted burglar, who had broken out of prison, and for some weeks | past baffled the detectives, remark I ed, that he and the pedler must be either the same or twin brother*, so exactly did the description tai ly with the appearance of the ped ler. So the old coat hung, unseen and forgotten, in the back entry closet until fall, when Mrs. Hallet. in her quarterly “cleanings,” spied it, “Jennie,” she, said, “I wish you would take that oi l scarecrow away from here. I can’t abide the sight of it.” -what rhall I do with it moth ier?” • “Whatever you like. It's yours. I I suppose, as vou found it; nobody w ill ever claim it.” “It’s too good to throw away,” . said Jennie. “Suppose I take the i long skirts and make a petticoat i for Peggie Burns? It is lined with woolen, and will make a warm : garment for w inter. So Jennie took the coat to her room, and sat*dwww>in the October sunshine to rip up and refashion «the garment. She thought of Frank—she was i always thinking of him now—and . wondered whether he would ever i make thatssOO, oh, that $500! how j it ran in her head, always ! ; Rip! rip! Something opposed j the progress of the scissojs in the . thick wadding of the old eoat. Tearing it open she drew out what looked like a solid greenish rag. It was paper, however, and as she unfolded it, she saw to her surprise that it was a bank bill—a SSO bill! Another and another followed. Through all the body of the old garment were carefully padded these precious bits of paper; and Jennie Hallet, sitting i in her room alone counted them ; ail out upon her lap—81,500! She kept her secret —at least ; from her family. But some days after, she rode into Logansvillee" ■on horseback, alone, as she was ] accustomed to dot and at the exi press office deposited a little package, addressed to “Francis Dun | can. Esq.” And by return mail , came an anonymous letter to Far mer Hallet. inclosing SIOO, “to j replace the money unlawfully tak ! en from him,” which incident set I all the neighbors discoursing on | the power of conscience. And l«e---i fore Christmas Frank Dunean him ’ self made his appearance and • boldly asked Farmer Hallet for the . hand of his daughter Jennie, men- | tioning. in answer to the father’s i inquiries, that he than 81,500 in hand.” And the next I thing was. that Mr. Duncan pnr- ' chased the prettv place by the old church, and thither, in the spring, took his young bride, where they ■ were as happy as new married peo- , pie generally are. I Jennie said that she and Frank ' only borrowed the money, and that it should lie restored whenev- • ery the owny should appear But j they have as yet heard of no claimant. Blue-pill Ayer’s is a candidate . for Congress in t'le Seventh Mas- ' sachusetts District

Western Customers. How a »w«iinncr Man was “Con-elled” by a Landlord's Daughter. Correspondence of the Louiscille Express. I haven’t dated this letter, because I don't know where I am. I am about nine miles from Julesburg, a little settlement on the South Platte River. At daylight tomorrow I am to catch some of the finest salmon you ever saw. They will not bite at any other time of day. I suppose they learn ed this disagreeable habit of earlybreakfasting from the “Bull Whackers,” who navigate these plains. I am stopping at a hotel about thirty by ten feet. The scarcest thing in this country is lumber, settlers having to pay ever so many dollars a foot for all they use, besides what they brought in valises. The land'ord is from Pennsylvania, and seems to be do- : ing a thriving business. I got a myself. It is just large enough for the bed and candle box set on a chair upon which I am j writing this letter. It is in one end of the building, and separated from the next room by a bed quilt, which you must crawl under to ‘come in or out. But it is my room and after tfie jolting I have had upon the Indian pony, 1 expect to have a good night's— Was ever a poor pilgrim in such a fix? Just as I had written ‘might's” above, and had slept on the point of my pen, I heard a knocking on tile floor outside the . bed quilt, “Crawl-under,” said-I Enter the landlord’s daughter, a buxom young lady, about 17 years of age. I should judge. She opened her rosy lips, and spake as follows : “Mister, don't take off your clothes to-night when vou go to bed.” j “Why?” “Because I am going to sleep i with you.” i “Well, if you have no better reason than that—” ■ “Hush! Shot up! You told i par that you wouldn’t sleep with a sick man. Well, 1 have given up my bed to a sick man. I have been hard at work all day, and have to work hard to-morrow, and I can't afford to set up all night. The bed is wide enough, for ns both. I shall stay on the back side, and if yon don't stay on your side, you’d better, that’s all.” As she said this she raised from her dress.pocket an infernal jack knife, such as farmers use in.trim rning fruit trees, and then let it fall back with a chug: I comprehended the situation in half a moment. ami unto this maiden I quoth as follows: . “Miss young lady, your intentions may. or may not, be honorable. I am traveling entirely bv myself. My natural protector* are miles and inih s away beyond the boundless prairie, ignorant ot the perils which may beset their i 101. Thus far I have not been i isulted by your sex. lam a man of fjW word*, but they are always emphatic. 1 will give you a part of that bed. and that’s all I will do. It you attempt, during the silent watches of the night, anything contrary to this firm determination, by St. Joseph, my patron saint. I will shoot yon right through the midriff.” As I concluded, I laid a Slocum pistol on the candle box. A low chuckle outside the bed qnijt gave evidence that pater familag had heard and approved the arrangement. My antagonist laughed, and saying, “Mister, I reckon we understand each other,” bounced over to the backside of the bed. There ■ she is now. pretending to be asleep. I can't do anything. Talk about the trials of the earlier saints—about being broiled over live coals . —about being flayed a ive—about being boiled in oil. What was all that to all this ? Resist the Beginning. The Arabs have a fable of a miller, who was one day startled by a camel'j nose being thrust in the window of a room where he was sleeping *?lt is very cold outside,” said the camel, “I only want to get my nose in.” The nose was then let in—then the neck,, and finally the whole body. Presently the miller was inconvenienced at the ungainly companion he had obtained in a room certainty not large enough for both. “If you are inconvenienced. take your leave.” said the camel; “as for mvself, I shall stay where I am.” Moral— Yield not to the humblest entreaties of temptation. The wedge once entered, the obstacle is over cotne. Let the “nose” in. and the whole body will soon follow. Re sist the beginnings. ! i St Louis gets along with two suicides per day

’ Fishing with a Beardless Hook. ■» Some months ago, business led jme to an out-of the-way place, j where, near by a full of water, there lived two boys, one eight and the other ten. They were brighteyed, I inquisitive little chaps, but generally without either hat or shoes and often with pants and jacket sadly rent. Busied as I was in the repairs of an old mill, these boys were handy to send on errands, bring tools, . look after my horse turned out to J bait in the road, and do number- ! less little things to save the steps i of those who were older. One day, on reaching the mill, I saw the oldest boy standing on | a rock, partly hidden by the sur--1 rounding foliage of the trees, fish ing. and as often as he felt a nibble he would jerk his line as spitefully out of the water as though he bora the little fish some terrible grudge, and wanted to pay it by twitching their heads oft’. I asked him why ’ he did so. and explained as well as i I was able the best modes of taking ; such fish as made the little brook their home. After hearing me patiently and respectfully, he said: “Mister, you fish with a hook that has got a beard on it. and when you hook one he stays. »My hook ha'n’t got I any beard. It’s an old broken one 1 that Liger Green gave me- I | ha’n’t got any money to buy a new i one. Mother wants the pennies . yon gave me I like to fish, like to catch ’em for mother, and I have > to twitch ’em when they bite, or they will wiggle off, and I shall i lose ’em.” I liked the talk of that boy. He I did not grumble about his old I hook, but did the best he could . with what he had ty dq,.withj and day after day, as I saw him doing it, and taking to his mother the re ward of his toil had eaused. him so much care and thought and skill, I knew that he was laying with that aider rod in his hands the foundations of a grand character. That is the way Horace Greeley ibegan. lie fished awhile with a : beardless hook. His father was very poor, and he had scarcely any books, an 1 what he had he was ■ obliged to read by the dim light of j pine-knots which his own forethought had gathered ; but he is i now one of the ablest writers, as well as one of the most influential i men in America. , And so with John Jacob Astor, i He had no money, or comparitive|ly none, when he c me to this 1 country, but he wanted to trade, and so he .carried his little handle of goods around under his arm or - in his hand He fished with a beardless hook. Afterward he bought furs, and carried them on 'his back hundreds of miles to market, and when ue died he had grown from absolute poverty to be the richest man in the country. There is scarcely a great man nr a good man on this side of the Atlantic that di <1 not have a tough time iij.his boyhood, did not fish awhile with a beardless hook ; and of all the boys now in the country those only will arrive at eminence who do the best they can with what they hat** t» do with : never complain. but push cheerfully and resolutely on in the path that leads upward to a noble and good and grand manhood.— Hearth and Hove. . I Women as Jurors. This is one of the phases of petticoat suffrage question now being agitated. Once armed with the ballot, the duty of sitting on juries will be “imposed upon” the ladies. Now, it is a notorious fact that men are far more lenient ami merciful to female criminals than women are toward each other outside of the court room. If they will not spare a weak or frail one now, what wiil they de when clothed with the rights of jurors? Imagine a young and prettv woman, who has “stooped to folly,” brought before a jury in which several irascible and elderly spinsters hold the balance of power; is it difficult to «ay what the verdict will be? •Would the prisoner's beauty or tears or repentance touch them ? Verily, no. If the young thing happened to be the plaintiff in a a suit for breach of promise against a handsome, rich, young swell, would she win her suit? Truly, no. Could the ladies on the jury fipd it in their hearts to give a verdict against “such a nice young man?” Blessyou.no. Thus it is evident that with crinoline in the jury-box neither would get justice. Brigham Young's last proposition is a legislative‘“stunner.” He proposes to confine himself to one woman, if every memlrer of Congress will do the same, y It is better t» spend an hour hanging loose doors and gates than in banging round taverns and stores. America is estimated to contain over ten milliou*4>f square each mile being capable of suataining three hundred and fifty persons, or tour times the preaent »population of the aartb.

STo. 27.