Plymouth Weekly Banner, Volume 5, Number 2, Plymouth, Marshall County, 3 April 1856 — Page 1

flip ft Sra br3 Lr fcr?s vfl S3 SSI 1:3 1 V A Family Newspaper -Devoted to Education, Agriculture, Comniorce, Markets, General Intelligence, Foreign and Domestic News. VOL.. 5. NO. 2.1 PLYMOUTH, INDIANA, THURSDY, APRIL 3, 185G. WHOLE NO. 201.

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THE BANNER II PUBLISHED EVERT THVUSUAT JlOP.NiU (LTp atairs. in the Old Plymouth Hotel,) BY WJI. J. BURNS.

I f pil i n advance, - -- -- -- - At the end ofsix months, - - - - ti r,0 If leliyed until the end of the year, 2 50! A failure to order a discontinuance at the! expiration of the time subscribed for, will be; considered a neweugagernent, and the paper ' continued. , I tj"x pijrw'.ll be liscontinued unti'all; arre irse's ire paid, unlessatthe option o;the I PuMi'her. rji'xe above terms will be strictlyad herod to. advertTsing. (tex lines or less mike a sat'AnE.) O p sij'iir three insertion or less SI. CO. E ich additional iiierlio!i . . - C5v. li.ii!ie Cird inserted one year 5,00. Leil advertisement must le c;i.h in ndva'ioe or accepted security. Advertisements, time not marked, will le inserted till forbidden, and ch.irged at ihe above rates. i DIRECTORY. M M D ntU mi I II. ti. Dickson propria CHARLES PALMER, Dealer in Dry Coods, Boots & Shoes, Haidware, Queensware, Groceries, and Hats & Caps. "THVH.""j.' VT. BENNETTS office "t his TesiJ dence three doors north of Edwards ; iiotel. on Michigan street. j TJROOKE& Ey.m Des in Dry Good, ß lirocenes, crockery aim nca-iy maut , Clothing; corner Laporte V -dich, streets. T BROWN LEE & CO. Dealers in Dry rL finS'iBj0tSÄ ReaJy raade, Ckthin, Hardware & Cutlery. I-att. T. A. LEMON. Practicing Physician, j and dealer in Druirs t Medicines, Ods, Paints & Groceries, east side Michigan street. , 4 VINEDGE. Dealer in Foreign and Do- j . mestic Groceries and Provisions, east j side Miohienn rer. W i. PtA'PP. m.air n.nbinet maker. dllU IlLp I ia rvci ui miuiw w m'nro rAnin in north room of the old Plymouth Hotel. TIIASET'ON Manufacturer and dealer in Boots & Shoes, and Shoe i ndings, I ... .... i west side Jichit'an street. JOSEPH POTTER Saddle and Harness manufacturer, comer Laporte and Center street. - G" S. CLEAVELAND Wholesale and re- . tail dealer in Dry Goo;ls. Hardware and iroceris, new building, north side Laporte st N- Tl. OGLESBEE & Co. Dealers in Dry Goods Groceries, llnrdware. Boots and Shoes, Crockery &c.; in the Brick Store. OBEKT KL.SK, Dealer in Family (lTnceriet, Provisions and Trnvvate. Bakery auacnea, east su'.e Michigan street. ICE CREAM SALOON, M. II. Tibbits proprietor, up stairs in Rusk's budding. ntvor TTv.nf Tuilnr. and Dealb, iaa a ti uiif - . er inClothin? and all kinds of Furnish ing Goods, in Puisk's building. TXTFJT7nVFT T .V IITU'ITT r)f1r( in V V DryGoodi, Groceries, Hardware Boots' A Shoes, Ready ma'le Clothmj Xc. HB. PERSHING Wholesale and Retail . dealer in Drus Medicines, Oil, Paints, Glass ,fc Glassware, Groceries. &. gincer wine. BROWN & BAXTER Mantifact-irers of TinSheet ron and Copperware, and dealers In Stoves sign of Tin shop A Stove. CH. REEVE, Atty. at Law. Collections punctually attended to in Northern Indiana. Lands lor sale cheap. W. SMITH, Justiceof the peace, will

. attend to business in the Circuit aud i h bil,d U)ij gre3l olJ house mosl of Com. Pleas courts. Over the Post office. , , , -- - v"":.. them, b-ine professors or students belong DR. SAM'L. HIGGINBOTHAM, Physician . and Surgeon. Office at his residency on ing to the Uunersity. he east side of Michigan street. Between this old house rind the Uui JOHN COUGLE, Keeps a general assort- jt , large garden, full of trees mentof Dry Goo Is, Groceries, eietables , , , , . ... nd Meatsof all kinds. Cor. Gano & Mich. s:s. j and walks and with a fountain, wh:ch 5ri7DllaRAYrEciectic Physician, will, fell into a large stone, basin, in the midattend to caHs day or nwht. Office four! dje 0r a crass plat, which was not, I am

doors north of C. If. Reeve's residence. i south end of the Bridge, Michigan street. DR. R. BROWN. Physician and Surgeon, j will promptly attend to all calls in his j ptofessioa. Office at Ins residence south Plym. 1 1 . - i A. JOSEPH. Cabinet Maker ana un it dertaker, South Plymouth. DR. CIIAS. WEST," .Eclectic Physicnn. Office at his residence, east side Michi-' g an street. j FAILOR, Cabinet Makerand underta-j ker, cornerCenter Washiugron its. j - - - ; T7DWARD3'HOThL. vm.u. tva;is rroA prietor. corner oi .Hitui&a.u anu naauiiiton streets. T" C. TURNER, House Carpenter & Joiner jT Shop on Washington street, east ol Michigan street. A K.. BRIGGS, Horse Shoeing and Blacksmithing of all kinds done to order. Shop south east of Edwards' Hotel. A MERICAN H')USE, O. P. Cherry & Son proprietors, South Plymouth. A BALDWIN, manufactures and keeps on hand custom made Boots Sc Shoes; east side Michigan street. TOHN SMITH, Manufacturer of Fine Custom made Boots. Shop next door north of the Brick Store. - . JAMES & M. ELLIOTT Turners, Chair Makers, and Siija Painters, Michigan street, 6outa Plymouth. T E. ARMSTRONG, attends to all calls in his line of Daguerreotyping, at his residence north ot Edwards' Hotel. MH. PECHEK fe CO., Dealers in Family Groceries, Trovisions, Conlectionariei' AcSouth Plymouth., : v In the JlEarlzeti WHEAT At the highest market prices tiken on subscription to the Banner, . . . ... T..I.. IO'? delivered at tne otnee. juiy, iojj. . '

XM OF THE OLD TIEE.

0 iti.i. me where the dove is flown, To build her downy nest, And 7 will search the world all o'er. To 'in her to my breast. 1 sought her in the prove of Jove, 1 knew her tender heart; But she had flown, the pensive dove. Has left the traitor's dart. I sonsht her on the flowery lawn. When pleasure holds its strain. But fancy flies rom flower to flower. So there sought in ain. Upon ambition's era pry hill The pensive bird mitht stray,'" I sought l.er there, but vainly Iii, She never flew that way. Faith smil' d and shed a silent tear. To see my search around. And whispered w;ll tell you where The dove u.ay yet be found. By meek rtcÜsion's humble cot, She builds lier downy nest, O seek the sweet, seclu !e 1 spot, Anl win her to thy breast. rtludaiiic Goctzcitbcrgcr's Christ, in a a Eve. CY MARY H0W1TT, CHAPTER I. I I Wish you had all been ot old Frau , Goetzenbe rgei's last Christmas Eve! But !hs you were not, and you know nothing about it, the beat thing I can do is to HI exacll how ;t WaS who was lhere pf . Old Frau Goetzenberger lived, or rather lives but we will peak of it in the past trnse-she lived. I i.r.in.n 1 university town ,n tne soum o. uermany; a very old fashioned town it was. . bH gQrts of olJ mPmoripg a(1 lradi. t;ons connected with it. The Univarsity, with its tall, red roof, looking as daik and ancient as the church, which had a tall, red roof to correspond; and the j church looked quite as old as the grey ,;mo gton8 rwcka whh 8tooJ ik r nun Ifnirntnir irnllc rnniirl th, littlA ÜUI, IU II UlUg II UIIJ, IVUUU IUV llllll town. Not fir from the University stood a large, beivy, dismal-looking stone building, like a great, gloomy town hall; the lower f'ont windows, which looked upon the strcc were all'guardrd with 6tron: iroii-wotk, composed of upright bars. ot1i inn crrnll mnne t hm t.i it very much the nppenrance of a prison. In the centre of this building was a wide, round arched gateway, in the projecting kev-stone of which grinned a stone face. The face protruded its tongue from its leering mouth, its nose was curled up. and its ears were of an unusual Tennln. Pn whole, as ugly a face n you would wish to see, and il Efemed to grin down upon every body who approached the gateway. So wide was this gateway that a coach and four might have driven into it; and, on either hand, 6oon after you entered, yoa came io n wide, stone staircase, with iron balustrades, which led up to the dwellings- of many .families of a dozen at least who inJ sorry to say, by any means neatly kept. with sickles for their cows. This garden to a certain exten?, was public; that is, wag co.nrnün lo about a dozen different . . . iu-u houses opening tnto it, and which were all occupied, more or less, by people con nected with the University, who had . ' . thus, as it were, a privileged private entrance either to the great University library, or lo ordinary lectures and classes. . ... . . oneoilla a. v. ta w w w v - f D jnto lhis r,u-rsif Garten, as it was called, brought a higher rent than any S others, and the people residing there were looked upon as the elite; it was, in fact the Belgravia of the town. - On the principal floor of that great, old house, with the grinning face over the door, lived the- most celebrated professor in the. whole University the Herr Von Hoffman, Professor of Roman La w, a very learned man, whose fame extended .over all Germany. So great, indeed, was he, that the King, not many years before, had presented him with a patent of nobility, and hence it was that lie had Fori before his name. H war, in fact, 'the lierr Baron Von Hoffman; but he preferred being called simply the Herr Professor, because he bad more pleasure in being a great teacher than in being a Baron' He was not,, however, an old man, he was only a little tcrned fotty, and thiiwas his first year at the famous old Unirersi1t. when I introduce him to your knowl- -. V j . r, ;:,..!! edge.- " ' ' " He was a very quiet, domestic man. , LA Tvas this Professor Von'. Hoffman, ind

wished so much for as a sweet tempered, good little wife, and a dear, happy family of pretty children. When he was only twenty, and a 6tudent at the old University of Greifswald, his domestic wishes were all the srinie. But he' was a very poor man in those days; nevertheless, he made up his mind to marrj as soon as he was able to main'.bin a wife and family; and more thnn that, to marry no oneele than the pretty Ida, the youngest daughter of old Professor Schmidt, under whom he had eliidied Roman Law, and the sweet tempered and pretty Ida had promised to be his wife whenever tie should be ready

to offer her a home. But things did not fall out a9 either the student Eberhard or his fair Ida hoped. Old Professor Schmidt would not eon?ent to part with his daughter Ida, who was his favorite. He was. unfortunately, a vary sour-tempered, abstinate old gentleman; he said that Eberhard wa3 to poor to marry, and could not affvird to have a wife. In this way year after year went on, Ida's sister Marie married, and went away to her husband's home, and hr mother the old Professor's wife, died, and then there was nobody left to look after him but poor Ida, and, what wns worst of all, the old gentleman's temper grew still more nd more tyranical, becauso he now suffered 6o much from rheumatism and toothache. There did not now seem to be the least chance in the world ttiat Ida could ever leave her father. Eberhard hail been away two years, and he grew very impatient. He had risen from privat docet. without any salary, to be Professor of Roman Law in the University of Tubingen. He now could abundantly afford tu mait.taiu that dear liitle wife that was only wanted to complete his happiness; so he wrote to Ma, saying that she must consent to marry him at ones, and tht, to make all easy ar4d agreeable, the old gentleman, her father, should. live with ;hem. Ida was delighted with the proposal; not sd the old Professor. For what was he to leave Griefswald? No he had no intention of le& ing it! lie had not many years to live, bud he was not oing to be torn "up ty itie roum rr uy body! ' It would be the death cf him. No! No! he should stop at Griefswald, and Ida might leave him, if fhc liked; but he would never give his blessicg loan undutiful child! It was very hard both on Ida and her lover. They waited yet awhile longer; but Tubingen was m very dull place, and all the professors there wero married, excepting Lbeihard. So at lat he wrote to Ida, ßnying tint if she coufd not marry him he must look out for another wife. lie quite expected that this would have determined Ida, by one means or another, to obtnin her father's consent; but, in stead of that. Ida, who was the most gen erous-henrted and most self fcrgeUing creature in the world, could not again anger and distress her old father by urg. ing her wishes; nnd. es she knew what a loving, domestic heart was Eberhard and that without family life he could not be happy; she wrote, in reply, that, though it broke her heart, sho must give him up, for that, to leave her old father in his present state, was impossible. She retnrned to him, therefore, the betrothal ring which she had faithfully worn so many years, and, with anguish of heart and many tears, of which she said nothing, sent off her letter. The Professor received the ring, and read the letter with the deepest grief, disappointment, and 6ome little anger. He believed that Ida's love for him was nothing in comparison with what he had felt for her. He returned to s her the ring which he too had worn with equal fidelity, with a long letter which, instead of comforting, only added to her misery. For several weeks he felt very unhappy and desolate; but all his married friends and acquaintances thought it their dnty to be doubly kind to him. What sisters, and nieces, and .cousins, all beautiful young ladies, were introduced to him at suppers and little tea parties which were got up expressly for the occasion! and at length il appeared to him that' the beautiful Caroline, only daughter of (he rich Oberst or Colonel Hoffman, might probably fill the place in his heart left vacant by the loss of his Ida. Caroline, or Lina as she was called, was reckoned a great match, for her father not only wore many orders at his button hole, hut was possessed of a handsome estate'ahd house io tho Saxon Switzerland which, having come, to the. Colonel hy his wife, would pass direct to his daughter on his death, with' the simple condition of her husband taking the name' of Hoffman. , A very iiv: i.- bWh. e - good, match was this for the. Professor, who, though he was growing into great reputation for learning,' had 'nöthing but

his head to make money by, and his good heart to make a wife hapy with, and these do not always rank as high in value as gold and silver, houses and lands. The Trofeesor married the beautiful Una, and not long afterwards her father

dying, her husband came into possession of tho fine house and estate in the Saxon Switzerland, and essumed the excellent name of Hoffman, henceforth dropping his own undignified family name of Grtin, and by which he had been betrothed to IJa Schmidt. The next event that occuned to him was the birth of a little daughter, who was called after her mother Lina, and soon afterwards he received from his sovereign that patent of nobility which I have mentioned, and which was bestowed upon him in consequence of his great learning, and henceforth he was the Herr Baren Von Hoffman. But wonderful as wns tho Professor outward prosperity, his domestic liippiness wns not to be of very long continu ance. Four years after his marriage, hisj wife died, leaving him no other child than his little Lina, then about three years old. Very desolate' was now the Professor's heart nnd home. As time went on, and the acuteness of the grief caused by the death of his wife a little worse off, he thought about equally of Ida, his first love, end Linn, his child's mother. People wondered that he did not marry again. With his reputation, his title, and his fine estate in the Saxon Switzerland, he might marry any lady in the land. I believe he knew that very well, but, as I said before, ho thought a great deal about poor Ida and her hard life with the crosa old ' gentleman her father. He thought so much, indeed, that five years after his wife. death, when his little Lina was eight years old, he set off during the University Ferien oi holydays on a journey to the north, taking Griefswald in his way. He did not tell o single soul that he did so, but I montion it to you in confidence. Well, the first thiog ho did when he arrived at Griefswald was to inquire after old Professor Schmidt and hia tmy. He made inquiries from one old woman wnu was KD'itmg by the tide of a wood. while a white goat, fastened to h;r apron string by a long chain, was feeding, and she was keeping two cows, which were likewise grazing, within bounds. Of Herr Professor Schmidt ask you? said the old woman, 'he's been dead aud buried these six years.' And Frauleln Ida?' 'No; she's not here. She ms an angel! What a daughter she was! She never thought her duty hud; ani yet it is unknown what she h id to bear, and vet I know, for I was sick nurse in that family for years. Ah, Fraulein Ida! she would have mide any man happy: she was such an angel; many's the good chance for herself that she tacrificed to her duty to her father You never knew Fraulein Ida, then?' asked the old woman. The Professor made a sort of sound which she understood to mean no, therefore she went on: . 'Then you never knew what en angel she was?. She was cruelly used, sir, by a student: but he's a learned professor now, they tell me; ono Eberhard Grun. You, may be, may know him, for he studied in Griefswald?' Again the Professor made that peculiar sound which passed for a negative, and the old woman went on: No; I dare say you don't; but no good could come to him. that's certain. He's married, however, and was betrothed to Fraulein Ida for several yars. I never shall forget her reading of his marriage to htr father, for she always read the newspapers to him, and he would have every word: she dropped down in a fainting fit when she read that, and if it had not been for me, who had just come in to tell the Herr Professor that his bran bath was ready, she would have fallen on the stove. Por Fraulein Ida! and when her fr'ends said to her, as many did at first, how heartless was that Eberhard Grun, to leave her as he Had done, she used to 6ay, with tears in her eyes, Dop't . blame him: I don't blame him myself, t It is a good thing if he does not suffer as I do; and T hopo he doesn't'." That was the way she talked. But she's gone from Griefswald now,' continued the old woman. ; When the ; Herr Professor died, he left her nothing but his books and papers, and tneyV'ere not worth much; and toon after his death, Mrs. .Bernhard, the eldest daughter, died also; she had been a widow1 some years, buf she was well off; she left a child, a "beautiful Tittie. girl, , to Fraulein Ida's care, with a small legacy, which brings her in a littlt tie income, and' after that Fraulien-Ida and her little orphan 'niece we'nf to live

with an aunt of the late Herr Bernard, but where nobody knows. They did live at Cassell for a time, but they are gono away; but go where she will, heaven's blessings will light on her, sooner or later; of that I am sure." Perhaps,' said the Herr Professor Von Hoffman, in a voice which was very husky, but which the old woma'n, not know-

ing him, supposed to be natural to him. J perhaps she may be married by this , The old woman almost screamed at the iJa. Married! repeated she: mariied bv

this lime!' and, in her impatience, she j Ida " ho WB9 iust like an angel. Lina . ... . now knew what angel must be like; they gave the poor litte coat such a Kudden ,c. . o K . . T. . . trb , must be like oinchen s aunt Ma, if she pluck by its chain, that, thinking the j only had wings. She wore such boautituft of. yellow ragwort at which it was j ful light silks; and the had such luvelv smelling was some forbidden fruit, it set j hands, and such a beautiful face. Oh,

u n a sham bleat aud pats n threat lean so! - c o . far in a contrary direction, that the old woman was pulled in her turn. 'Married by this time' repeated she once more rr.., noml.m.n ix... i r. , j vuiivuiii niiu ii nvtwiii: v . i c t - 1 1 c u . . about women! Fraulein Ida Schmtdt will never marry any man but Eberhirt Grun, because she can never love another as she loved him; and it may please God to make him worthy of her, because, ns the Bible says, all things are possible with God! Amen!' said the Professor, strangely afTccted. The old woman wont after her goat, which had now grown very wayward; and he pursued a solitary path which led deep into the wood, and which, in thr.se far-distant dava which tho old woman had so sadly recalled, he and his beloved Ida had often trcd together. CHAPTER II. The tiding which the Professor had thus obtained left him in no state of mind to call on any of his friends in Griefs wild. He continued his journey into the. north, even as lar ns Ypsala, where, in the library of the. old University, he added etill more to his amazing amount ot learning, and then returned to Tubingen, w!:cre he delivered his lectures as formerly. The next thing that happened to him was. that he was appoiutad by govern meat to take the Law Professor's chair in that still more famous University where we first fuund him. Hither he removrd early n the year, and took- up, as I told you, his quarters in the principal sutie of rooms in that gloomy old house with it. a Z ms V ..ail i ti ! " I K a ivirt , . . ii- i face over the cateway. His snare hours . . . ..I .1 no spent in arranging ant cataloguing ' bis immense library, and ths rest cf the: day in delivering his famous course of

lectures, which very poon brought such access of students to the University, that, with the tradespeople and the middle classes at large, who lived principally by accommodating students, as well as by nil the young ladies who were thu provided with as many agreeable partners at the public end private balls, he was considered quite a benefactor to the town, end consequently, very popular with every one. There-was something, however, peculiar in the. Professor; everybody agreed in this; finding it, nevertheless, not difficult to be ccouuled for, because he wns so very learned, and all learned men are unlike common people they have a right to be odd, and even oisagreenble. if they chooee. But disagreeable Professor Von Hoffman was not; he was only very grave, aud hud an anxious, self-absorbed look. . , . Tho truth was, though nobody knew it. he was very unhappy about poor Fraulein Ida. and could not gel her sorrows out of his head. It is wonderrul what a number of letters he wrote to ail parts of Germany, to ascertain, if he could, whither she had betaken herself with her little orphan niece, or " here this old Madame Bernhard lived who wa& aunt to the child's father. But he could obtiin no satisfaction. Now and then he fancied he was upen the right track; but when he came to pursue it farther, and he took many long journeys for this purpose, it always ended in disappointment Thus time, wore on. He lived in a dream of hope and disappointment, busied uver the endless arrangement of his bookstand looking neither to the right hand nor to the left, as he crossed the great. University garden to his lectures Oa summer afternoons the . 'garden was full of people,1 who turned out from the surrounding houses. ' Ladies sal with their kuilting on the various branches and uuder the trees; children played about; and the mjlk women cut the grass for their cows. Everybody ' know him, but he knew nobody ttok notice of nobody. . , 'That is the way,' said they, 'with all these learned men; their eyrs are turned inwards.' . ",; .' ' It must have been a verv dull, unnatural sort of life for little Lina Von Hoff, man, if she had no more cheerful person with her than her fatheras he appeared to' the world; but' I assure you her life was by no means without its pleasures.' Io an evening she wm with ber father, and then came out something of the joy and affection; which lived" in his large, warm heart!' " Little Lina knew very well what aglnriöua rind noble human being was her father, and to him she opened all ber little heart. , She showed ' him how her knitting proreB8eal and hov mänjr

eddiliorinl flitches she had done in her Berlin wool work; but not a word did she say to him about those beautiful slippers which, soon nfter Midsummer, she had begun to work for him. Oh no; nt a word of them, they were a great secret in her heart, aud were to remain so until they should be brought forth by the wonderful CIuit child at Christmas, who 6he knew, from old experience, would then bring something very charming for her. Of these things Lina spoke

j 10 her father, but most of all she spoke of her little friend Sinchen. vho lived j out at the end of ihe garden, in such ; prety room3 whh hef oU groal.aunt Goetzenberger. who was quite blind, yet such R checrtul old ladv. and with aunt . .. . iaui lua bmuea as she did. It was wonderful wh;t pleasure our Professor felt in hearing his darling Lina thus talking of her friends. There was ! a " x p te i s i b i ö charm to him in that - ---- j Bweei name oi ua. Jt it Had not been fn . , , , , , . , , " j for the old lady, and nunt Ida. as he bej neVed. beinc called tloetzenherr b might, perhaps, have taken it into hi - - - f---a head that this might have been his own long-lost Ida. But he never did; and when little Lina saw hitn walking from his afternoon lectures across the garden, and ran to him saying. 'There's aunt Ida! he never even gave himself the trouble to look at her, bit catching up the child in his arms, carried her to the house with him. Aunt Ida. on her part, saw him only at a distanc?; there was something about him which painfully reminded her of an old, long-lost lover, and for that ! VPr' """on she purposely avoided meeti : cl. j; i . ... .. in mm. cue cuu noi wisn io want nver the grave, as it were, of those buried feelings, cn the death like repose of which alone depended her own pence cf mind. Little Lina- went very often to Frau Goetzenberger's. She fouiid it much moro cheerful there than at her own home. Her father's rooms were all lined with dark, old books, piles of which lay on the floor, and over which she was sure to tumble if 6he did not take great care; besides which, there waa alwats suche smell of tobacco smoke; for. like al learned Germans, tia was a great smoker. If I had a wife said he to himself, I should rarely smoke; but it is now my only amusement.' So the rooms were full of n smokecloud, which circled about hertatners hfn:l, and curled up int. n!l tho darkcorners end into the vacant space a on the shelves, aud which filled the curtains m.d I even her father s hair wit i a nevcr-dym" i. ,, . ,." UJ,M inen ot tobacco, very different were! rreu Goetz-nberger's rooms. All was light and cheerful here, and a fresh, delicious odor seemed lo parvade everything. Tho floor' cf the sitting room was of inlaid wood, which garo a very pretty effect, and a very beautiful carpe of needle work, deeply fiinged, was laid before each of the two 6ofas. On one of these two sofas always sat the old Mini lady, in her rieh black 6Hlin and large grey hawl. To look at her, nobody would have supposed her to be blind, for there was nothing-unsightly or strange in the sppearance of her eyes, nnd yet they could see no more than if they were stones. She appeared lo be, end was really, very cheerful, had learned to go about their rooms by herself, the only difference between herself and other people being that she walked very slowly, feeling her way from poiiit to point, and treading as if her feet had been shod with velvet. Sha was nlwas employed in knitting, and thus prevented time from seeming long to her. Ida. as little Lina often told her fathei. was like a gentle, loving angel; not because she wns so young and beautiful, but because she looked so pure and good. Aunt Ida, indeed, was no longer young: she was considerably turned thirty; was thin and pale; her countenance, to thoughtful observers, looking as if at some former time she had known great sorrow, t'jough now her soul was bright and cheerful in the peace of resignation and faith in God. Her joy Icy in the fulfilment of her duty, and this now was no longer pninful. She surrounded the blind lady with objects of beauty; though they L would not cladden her sieht, still she said their influence was felt. Everything was elegant and pure. Beautiful flowers in pots stood in the windows, and gathered, flowers in av glass vase. Btood over on the table, among cheerful, spirited books, from which Ida read at least half the day. Sometimes she played exquisite pieces of music to her: and this the blind lady loved best of all, for Ida played divinely. .-i ? Lina often told her father about aunt Ida's playing, and at length one evening Barbe t, their maid, accompanied her home with a request from aunt Ida that the Professor would permit his little daughter to take in future her music lessons with Sanchen, which would be such a pleasure to every on. ' " ' The Professor could not object; he returned a message by Darbet which was satisfactory to all parties. : The Herr Professor .Von Hoffman, was much honored by the interest, which, the Fraulein Ida Goetzenberger took in his liitle daughter's progress in-music, and that he should' feel infinitely obliged if she would condescend to .instruct her viilh her niece; and. that the Herr.pro. feasor hoped before long to.havethe honor of Ihankiog in. nersootbe JFrsu,an4

Fraulein Goetznberger for the kincness

mey nao so daughter. . a long shown to Lis itlle Birbet was very clever in delivering verbal messages; she did not, therefor-, omit or vary one word. Ida smiled. My name is not Goetzenbcrger,' ssid she. 'but that is of no moment. From that time little Lin tk her lessons with Sanchen. and thus the Lest understanding grew up between the two familie, the hpads of which bad never r.s yet spoken to each other. 'I ! liuie gir1 was much moro at Frau Goetznbr-rr r's than at her own home, and thus the Professor found his room more dfEolate than ever. 'BjI never mind, EaiJ the gee! inn. 'she is much happier with her cheiful neighbors than hhe enn ba wit h m 3. He sighed and thought of that fair Ida who existed still, but not for hin, and blew tremendous puffs of strike uu. f his long, handsomely-painted pi;e. To he Continued Homely Wernes. We like homely women. Wo hav always liked them. We do not carry the. peculiarity far enough to include the hideous or positively ugly; for, hince beauty and money are the only caj it l the world will recognize in women, tiiov are more to be pitied than edmired. t:.t we have a chivilric. enthusiastic regard for plain women. Wo never saw ose who was not modest, unassuming, and sweet-tempered, and have seldom come across one who was uot virtuous ntal In i not a good heart. Made aware early in life of their went of beauty by. the s-üh' ed attentions of the opposite sex. vanity and affectation never take root in their hearts, and in the hope of supplying attractions which a capricious nature h.ii denied, they cultivate the graces of tho heart instead of tho person, and give to the mind those accomplishments which the world so rajely appreciates ia woman but which are more lasting, erJ in the eyes of men of sence, more highly prized than personal beauty. See them in tha street, at home, or in the church, and they are always the suine, and the tn:ib which ever lives upon the face is m-t forced there to fascinate, but is the tpontaneous sumdiiue reflected from a kind heart a flower which takes root in tho sou and blooms upon the lips, inspiring rc pect i nstend of passion, emoliulis ol" ulmiration instead of feelings of sensual regard. Plain women make good wivc3; good mothers, cheerful homes, ana happy husbands, and we never seo one but n; thank heaven lhat it has. kindly errate some women of sense as well es taauiy; ror it i?, indeed, seldom a rem.). ; foUUj posstssing both. To homely women we thereior na JUt .-t;U" iu 'iespect: the world will extend the same courtesy iu beauty. San Francisco has but few plain women, but all such we intend to mak? life subscribers to the Golden Era, in xizw of their worth lo society.- Golden Ur-.i. B -4 ca An ArrECTisa Incident. An afifecting occurence look'place some time cgi in a seaboard town in .England.' Six lit. tie children got into a boat on t!ie '. and a mischievous boy shoved it cfi The boat drifted away to the sea be.' rt. the children were missing. Terrible wa-. the agony of the mothers when they knew it. A number of men wentctT I.i all directions, and every boat was on t' . look out until far in ihe night. Day1. relumed, and still there were no tidi:)j from the helpless children; tho day wore away, and still nothing was heard frc-ni them they were either lost ia :l:9 vide expanse of the ocean, or buried witi.i" unfathomable depths. A Plymouth i':iherman, fishing early next i-.orniiig, recovered something ßoalinr, in the I:.-?aca He bore down to it, 8nd tliscoverej it to be a boat, nnd in the bottom six childrtn, all huddled together like a nest of birds, fast asleep -God having mercifully ivsj: them that blessed solace after a day cf ! terror and despair. He took them aboard and feasted them with bread arid cheese. and gladdened their despairing litlUhearts with the promise of taking thrr home. Between three and four in tl afternoon, the fisherman was seen in the offing, the boat astern. All eyes turned eagerly towards him. The i n spy-glass in the town was rubbed rii a and again, and at last they could f..i'i; see that it was the identical boat. The news flew through the town the ir:;':ers came frantic to the bench, for t'jrc were no children discerned in til'? ö; none to be seen in the sloon. Il;;j was the agony of suspense, nnd t'l nhV shared it with the parents. At lf tl r boatcame in; and the word went round They are all safe; and many etrM;hearted men burst into '(ears, worr."n shrieked for joy, and became almost frrntic with their insupportable-liaopirf sr. It was, indeed, a memorable "ay: h ' prayer, eloquent for its rough ainceii'y.' was offered op to Almighty God," who, :; His infinite mercy, had sp-.red these in-' nocent children from tha perils and frrrors of the sea during that fearful night. Five'of these children were undnr Titp years tf age, and the sixth but nine years old. ," " A writer truthfully remarks that f.'U U not crimes, uch as robbery and pnerdr which destroy the,. peace of, foclety.tc. much as the village gostip, fanijly.qua.rrels, jealousies and bickerings bef.vv;cn neighbors, meddlesomeness nud.. tatt Jinr. which are the canker, which eats int" ail social, happiness."- . Meddlers and l.usjbodies hereabouts please take notice. - ! m , Minnesota contains as much. territvrJ as four Siatej as large as Iowa, and ve u- t t,i:.J- - the size cf Indiana,