Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 2, Number 36, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 2 March 1872 — Page 6
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sisifes
A r- THE RIVER. A iiutt cuilu, uc UiriiiiiK lair, Wh"M» *Ut ring wave* ot golden hair
U.U IU
ti -uu
BH« M.t, III tit*-
To tiic ocean, wno*e
HI
1
LILNI-V
quiver,
litring wieath* of the woodb ne spray, Q.» lienng ip and colt's-foot gay, WiuX'tix iutriu uui to flout uwtcyt s~f wu ib« river.
A alii, linger-d a« If to *ee
Suetin-itoui
tlit-aOMin-iug m«*ril wh me willows shiver
Yci aw ht* luvti light iu yleaning eyes, Anti ii ard hu the music low replies, Aa
»tiow of tin uoocday «kles,
'I By .e river. si a wo' .in, pau-ing a* 1 to note vf ToeKI«a. wLille it.i -H»-reU' Ij float
Iu
IU.-HUH CI
iniimn q« lvi-r
iSf? O'er wln-e /ace flashed a sudden *ober is gieam. "J As Klir lu ani the changeless voice of the renin,
Aud th»ugui how she dreamed her first joveJieain Bytberlvrr.
A lonely mourner, who tlugered late, Though tiif g.uve was closed, the turf Jay nir.tiglit, Audt-aith vru-teaithS foiever Out iroiu tli'- c'.iuich-yunl pntli he passed, And Mood where the dead had loitered last, Willie the crefO'iii moon her radiance cast
On the river.
S And ever and aye, with the self-same SOllg, Tli mighty water* rolled along "Twixt the uuult.s whe e'iu- wiLowaablver: llnou^h id Iii hood'it laugh and girlhood's high,
While lilt? dn.g-on and old men die,
IIHUII-
Eternity,
Rolls h«-rlv»*r."
[From the New Yora Tribune.]
Trout's Luck.
A H008I Eli (J t-.ORG 1C.„
BY JAMES MAUKICB THOMPSON. t:
'As earlv as 8 o'c.oek the grand entrauco gateway to Hit* Kokomo lair* grouod
W.UJ ihronged with
vehicles of
ulinoit every kiifd horsemen, pedes* til His, dogs »«)d (lust, to say nothing of Certain nondescript conveyances packed within an uce of bursting with sundry humbugs, at once the bine and lilt) of almost every public gathering of the good upholders of American liberty.
This was advertised io bo the merriest day tli it might ever befall the quiet, hones loiksoi Lue rural regions circurn ambient. io Kokomo, and it is even hi
II
led thai the aris ocraiie dauies and businrns plethoric men of the town itBell hid ught somewhat of the excitement fpre.ui abroad by the announcement i.i ibe country pipers and by huge bill* posed in conspicuous pi.ives tououiiiis .pilioii and his monster balloon, ii.illoon .uitl which Le l'apillou v\i'i pictured to the lite, on the 'til pos ei*, in the act of Mailing Over the sun, ami under the picture iu remarkably list met letters—"No Humbug! Go to the Ka.r I
D.isier's Miuhirui Troupe was dancing ami winging attendance on this tigrieu11ur xhioition, too, and somebody's wh.rling pavnion, a shooting11 lory, monk-y show, the glassworks mil vvn it not ot eiiiertainuients '•aiiHi-iim .Hid instructive."
Un il 11 o'clock the noway of the fairground w.is orowd'-d. taiui wagOil'* iruml 1 iug
drawn by sleek, well-
fed plow na„s, and stowe.l Iul ol smiling lolKs, old and young, ill lie and fell! lie. ironi the out townships bug gies with youili mid uden, ihopparkie of bre isi pin .tinl the tleiter of ribbon spring wagons tull of students find bird bits from town carriages filled with etirls lace, flounces, over skirts, fancy kid nlovea, tunny little haH and less boniieis all fermepted into 1 itigtiid motion oy mild eyed ladies omuibiisses that bore il -shy gentlemon who wore silk hais and sm »kod tine clears and mimed in among all these were boys on skittish eolls, old men on (loa-bii "sorrel ami gray mares, with i)iw and then a reckless fellow on a mule. OciMsionally a dog got kicked or run over, giving the assistance ot his sharp yo'ps to the general din, and over all the dust hunu heavily in yellow cloud shot through with the lightning of burnished trappings and echoing with the hoarse thunder of the trampling, shouting, rumbling multitude. Indeed that hot, aguish Autumn day lot fall its sunshine on the heads and blew its feverish breath through the rifts of 'he greatest aud liveliest mass of people that ever assembled in Howard County.
Karl in the day the eyeB of certain of the rustic misses followed admiringly tho forms of Jack Trout and Bill Powell, haiid-iome young fellows dressed in homespun clothes, who, arm in arm, •trolled leisurely across the grounds looking sharply about for some propor place to begin the expenditure of what few dimes thoy had each beou able during the last two weeks to hoard up against this gala-day.
Rising and falling, tender-toned deftlv managed, a voice rung out across tho etowd plending with those who it for most [s golden op-
had long dtwfred a Ijood investment for their moi oarneaily poriunliy
gOU.
^#1 their money, and begging them oarneaily not to let siip thli
Onlya half-a-dellah! Come right this way and try your luck in the great golden scheme! Here's your only Chance to get two ounces of choice candy, with the probability of five dollahs in gold, all tor the suiall sum of half-»-v- dollah! Now is the aocepted time, and" only a half a dollah!"
The speaker was *uch a man as ene often observes iu a first-class railway oar, with a stout valise tx side hiiu containing samples of tobacco or fancy articles, dressed with remarkable neat4 nees, and ever on the alert to form one's acquaintance. He stood on the top of small table, holding in his band a
Jrom
jreen pasteboard package just taken a box at bis feet. "Only hall-a-dollah! Who will try his luck?"
Drifting round on the tideiof impulsive pleasure-seeking, Jack Trout and Bill Powell float past a bevv of IMIM, the prettiest of whom was Stimy Hart, *girl whose healthy, vivid beauty wa« fast luring Jack on to the rook of matrimonial oroDoaala.
proposa—
Jimminy! alnH she? a little sweetvt" exclaimed the latter, pinching Bfll'l arm and glancing lovingly at Mirny, "You're right, boy,T) replied Bill, lag and bowlnf with fluttering
to 'the girla. DOTS
'M blush I And passed on. "Only half-a-dollah! Roll on ye torrents! Hern's your only chanoe to .. «»»i Ave doll .bs in gold tor the small sum ot fllty cental"
kearta the
Bio «n by the fickle, gusty breath of luck, our two young friends were finally walled to tbs feet ot this vendor of .p'riKo-pacltNges, and there they lodged,
IKHS.IUIOII
in breathless interest, to
»wait their turn, each tull ot faitb In ith yellow at.tr of bio destinv, via., a
|II|INI
«»I it of the valus of Tfcoy
SIIKNI attruilvdly watching the reaulta 'ol oth»r men's inveatiueuts, IMlaf 4i»»tr ttnareni tl «gte uo» and then a
III.-Icy iHlow drew the coveted priaa. ditllun will buy alarge amount of
fd-
«uiv
at a Wr wbers almoat any
-ighi" nii*y be h-*d lur "the aiuall aunt .v «iii*for are there not, ittni wfutv *|U rnvr* in Vf
Wituuut Ukiug very derply intoooc-
sideratlon the possible, or, more properly.the probable result of the risk,Bill Powell banded up his half dollar, the major part of all the money he had,and stood trembling while the fellow eut open the selec ed package. Was it significant of anything that just then blue jay fluttered for a moment above the crierV head, ere it winged ita way to the bosom or a neighboring treef
Here you are I Luck's a fortune I" cried the vendor, drawing from the package a five-dollar gold piece and shaking it triumphantly above the crowd. "I'll give you five dollars and half for it in greenbacks!"
Bill took tue proffered legal tender notes with a bund that shook greedily as well as excitedly, and the loookerson cheer-d and clapped bands lustily in sheer admiration of the young mans luck.
Jack Trout stood by with a dollar and a half tigbtlv clutched in his right hand. His face was pale, bis lips compressed, his muscles rigid. He hesitated to trust iu the star of bis destiny. He stood eyeing the bridge of Lodi. the dykes of Arcole! Would he risk all on a bold venture?
Well, who's the next lucky individual?
Only
cry
half-a-dollah! And the
is—still they come! Who wants five dollahs in gold lor the small sum of fifty cents?"
Jack passed up the whole of his money, and chose three packages. Very carelessly and quietly the crier opened them. A cheer that sounded very much like an unanimous jeer roared up from the crowd, as with a
ridiculous
grimace, the fellow tossed to Jack his three worthless packages with the remark "Six ounces of first-rate candy, but nary a prize! Better luck next time! Only a half-a-dollah Who comes next for the gold
Jack floated back on the recoiling waves of chagrin till he was hidden iu the crowd, and the uppermost thought in his mind found expression very, forcibly if not elegantly, in the three little words, "Hang the luck J" It is very probable that of all the unlucky venturers that day singed in the blue flame of that expert gambler Jack recog nized himself as the most badly burnea Puiting bis hands into bis empty pock ets he sauntered dolefully about scarce ly able to look straight into the faces of such of his friends as he chanced meet.
Heactedasif searching for something lost on the ground. So it was a real relief to bis feelings when a kind-heart-ed acquaintance treated liiin to a glass of letnoniide Indeed, to such an extent were his misfortunes forgotten thai when he met Mimy Hart again he was actually smiling.
O, Jack," ied the pretty maiden "I'm so glad to see you just now, for do want to go into the minstrel show ever so bad J"
For a single moment Jack was hiippy but on feeling lor his money and re calling the fate of his laie venture, In felt a chill creep up his bark and lump the size of his fist jumped into his throat. Here was a bad affair for him. He Btood for a moment gazing blankly into the face of his despair, then, acting on the only plHn of escape from the predicament he could think oi, he said:
Wait a bit I've got to go jest down here to see a fellow I'll come bark d'rectly you be right here an' I'll take you in."
Mimy failed to notice his contusion, and so answered him pleasantly. "Well, hurry, Jack,for I'm nearly dead to see the show."
The young man hastened away and plunged into the thicken of the crowd, utterly at aloss what rise to do. In fact, what could be d? Penniless at the fair, and Mimy II rt waiting lor him to take her into the show? Few persons can realize how keenly he now telt the loss of his money. Ho ought no doubt, to nave told the 1 iss at one* just how matters stood, but nothing was more remote from his mind than the thought of doing anything of the kind. He was too vain. "Tell'rl a'in't got tne money No sir-eel" he muttered, as ho hurried hither and thither, intent on nothing and taking no heed of the course he pursued. Ilia cheeks were flushed,aud his eyes had in them that painful wor ried look often seen In the eyes of men going home Wall street.
Meantime that sea ol persons surged this way and that, flocked with a foam of ribbons and dancing bubble- of hats, now li wing slowly through the exhibition rooms, a tide of critics, now breaking Into groups and scattered throngs of babblers, anon uniting to roar round some novel engine sudden ly sot to work or to break on the bar rier of the trolling-ring into a spray of cravats aud a mist of flounces. Swimming round in this turbulent tide like a tisn with but one tin, Jack at length found himself hard by the pavilion of the minstrels. He could hear somewhat of the side splitting jokes with the laughs that were sure to follow, the tinkle of banjo accompaniments and tht mellow cadences of songs, the rattle of the oastinet and the tattoo of the ig-dancers' feet. "Come straight along, gentlemen and ladies! This celebrated troupe is now performing, and twenty-five cents
Sollah!"
aya the bill! Only a quawtah of a bawled the fat crier from his lofty perch. That's right, tak the la dy right in!" "Her lip am sweet as sagab
Her eyeB am bright as wine,' )at yaller little booaah Her name am EmllineT
suns by four fine voices came bubbling from within. The music thrilled Jack to the bone, and he ftelt once more for his moBey. Not a cent. This waa
k^You're the boy for me!" continued the follow on theMgh seat, "take your sweet-heart right in, it's all nice
Jack looked to see who waa going in, and inaUnUy a pang cut through hia breast. Arm-in-arm Bill Powell and Mimy Hart passed behind the pavilion aereen into the full glory of the show.
Dast him, he's got me!" muttered Jack, turning away sick at heart, and this was for from the first throe of jealousy he had suffered on Bill's aooount. In foot it had given him no little uneaalneaa lately to see bow sweetly Mimy sometimes smiled on young Powell.
Yea, 81r," continued J«ok, muttering tohlmeelf, "he's |eat about three length* ahead of me, as these. hoeavaurs aay!" Heartily tired of the foir but vaguely bopefml ot better lock from some visionary source, he strolled about, chewing the cud of utter discontent, his bands for down in histrowsera pockets, and his mouth puckered Into whistling poaitlon.
Onlv a bal f-a-dollsh I Who's the next Incky man cried the prise package follow "Pm now now aeU a aovt oi paokagea, each of which,
JI4» the MMUaout of cfcotoe canQ. eoataiao a pteee of Am Jawaliy Who takee the flat ehaoee tor only a half-a-dollah "'Bra's your mule!" aaswered Mil Powell, as with MJaoy still clinftlnc to his arm he puabed through the crowd and h» nded up the money.
Bravely done P' ahouted the crier
•*T
"see what a beautiful gold locket and chain! Luck"* a fortune! Only half-a-dollah!"
Jack saw Bill pat the glittering chain round Mimy's neck and fasten the locket In her belt, aaw Mimy's eyes suiiie proudly and gratefully, black spots dancing before his own eyes, then turned away whispered sav-
Only halt-a-dollab!" cried the package man. "Jist fifty cents more'n I've got!' and Jack passed resolutely past the table. stopping near the toe-mark of a temporary shooting gallers, where for five cents one might, have two shots with an air-gun, he watched many persons try their marksmanship. It was little satisfaction to know that be was a flue off hand shot so long as not a nil kel remained in his pocket, but still he sttiod there wishing be might try his hand.
"Black
imKJS-HA im. 'KATUkDAY EVENINUMAIKMARCH 2, I87-2.!
*^&rn Mm!" "fsn1 And just here let me say that snch an expression is not at all a profane one for I have repeatedly heard church members use the identical phraae— "Dern 'iin?" It in to be hoped that it conveys nothing demouiacor sulphuric but only a puff of iretfulness.
After this Jack was for some time standing near th« entrance to the "glass works," a place where transparent steam engines and wonderful fountains were ou exhibition. He felt a grim delight in tantalising himself with looking at the pictures of these things and wishing be bad money enough to pay be entrance fee. He saw persons passing in and coining out satisfied—men with their wives and children, young men with girls on their arms, prominent among whom were Bill and Mimy, and one dapper sporting man even bought an extra ticket for his tawny terrier, and patting him on the head, took him in! "Ornery ner a dog!" hissed Jack, shambling off and once more plunging into the depths of the crowd.
Cl'ar the track, here! Let this 'ere lady take a shoot!" A way was opened, and Bill Powell led Mimv Hart to the toe-mark and handed her the gun. She raised calmly, shut one eye, took deliberate aim, and pressed the trigger. '•Center!" roareel the marker, as to the sound of a bell the funny little puppet leaped up and grinned above the target. Everybody standing near laughed, and some of the boys cheered vociferously. Mimy looked sweeter than ever.
Jack begged a chew of tobacco from a si ranger, nrfd grinding the weed furi
ously,
walked off to where the yellow
p.vi'lion with its painted air boats was whirliuu its happy cargoes of boys and girls round and round for the "small sum ot ten cents."
A
red-headed tel-
low in one ot the boats was paying lor a ride of indefinite length by scraping on a miserable fiddle. To Jack this seemed small labor lor so much fun. How he envied the fellow as he flew .round, tiaitii his tunes behind hiiu
Wo'erp there! Stop yer ole ina chine! We'il take a ride ef you don't k(Jer!"pavilion
The stopped, and a boat was lowered for Bill and Mimv, who got in side bv side. The fiddler struck up Hie due
eyed Susie," and Jack
watched that happy couple go round and round till by the increased velocity
heir
two faces melted into one, which was neither Bill's nor Mimy's it was Luck's!
A n't got no money can even nddie for a ride, and I don't keer what be-
With these words Jack wended his way to a remote part of the fairground, where, under the gay awning, the utllers had spread their tempting variety ot cakes, pies, and loaves. Here wenpersons of all aires and sizes—men. women and children—eating at clean, well-supplied tables. The sight was a fascinating one, and though seeing others eat did not in the least quiet his own hunger, Jack stood for along time watching the departure of pies, and the steady lessening ot huge pyramids of sweet-cakes. He noticed one little table that bad on the center of it a big peach pie, which table was yet unoccupied. While he was actually thinking over the pie and trusting to his legs to bear him beyond the reach of a dun, Bill and Mimy sat down by the table, and proceeded to discuss the delicious red-hearted heap ol pastry
Bill's got me sartin. 'Ta'n't no use in talking, I'm played," said Ja«k. biting his lips I a trumped Jack!" He evidently knew a thing or two about "old sledge," though he had never gambled any.
And so it happened that wherever Jack stopped for any considerable length of time, he was sure to see Bill and Mimy enjoying some rare treat, be where he might.
At length, driven to desperation, ae determined to try to borrow a dollar from his father. He immediately set about to find the old gentleman, a task of no little difficulty in such a crowd. It was Jack's forlorn hope, and it had a gloomv out-look for old 'Squire Trout was thought by competent judges to be the stingiest man in the county. But hoping lor the best, Jack hunted him here, and there, and everywhere, till at last he met a friend who said he had seen the 'Squire in the act of leaving the fair ground just a few minutes previously.
Taking no heed of what folks might say, Jack, on receiving this Intelligence darted across the ground, out at the gate and down the road at a speed worthy of success, but alas for his hopes even in this dernier resort! At the first turn in the road he meta man who informed him that he had met Mr. Trout some four milea out on his way home, which home was full nine milea distant!
Panting.orest-follen, utterly defeated, poor Jack alowly plodded back to the gate of the Fair Ground, little thinkingot the new trouble there awaiting him.
Ticket!" said a gruff voice as he started to pass in. He recoiled amased at his own folly sa he recollected that he had forgotten to get a check on going out. Ha tried to explain, bnt it was no go. The aate-keeper said he bad "hearn It thnndor afore this!"
Jack untied sadly and tamed away. Going a little way down the road, be climbed up and sat down on the fence of a late-mown clover field. Taking ont his jack-knife, ho began to whittle a splinter plucked from a rail. His faoe waa gloomy, and his eves lustre* m. Finally he stretched himself, ingry, jealooa, hateful, on the top ot fonce, with his bead between the crossed stake*. His foee thus upturned to beaven, he watched two crows drift over, high up In the torrid reacbee of Autumn air, not as Summer, oven
1 bu the
hotter, and he allowed hia^Uja full For nrivllec* to anathssaias hia a long Jme he lav thus, dlmly coasdooTof the VkNhtUdVaoaf aad the loader sigks of ihttaflMS tatho lenoo-eoraeca. "Mimy Hart, Mimy Hart cried tho msadow-Urteaaad the burden of the grasshopper's dl tty waa, "Only a half-a-dollah
All at cnoe there antes from tho fair ground a mighty ohoraaof yells that went echoing across the country to tho
bluflh of Wild Cat Creek, and died for oft in the woods toward Greentown. Jack did not raise bis head, hut lay there In a sort of morose stupor, knowing well thst be had no part In the 4port, whatever it was. "Let'em rip!" he muttered dolefully. Presently the wagons and other'veblclee began to leav« the ground, from one of which he caught the sound of a sweet fauiiliar voice. He looked just in time to get a
fflimpae
of Hart's spring wagon, and in
t, aide by side. Bill Powell and Muny! A cloud of yellow dust soon hid them, and turning away bis head, happening to glance upward. Jack saw, just disappearing iu a thin white cloud, the golden disc of Ln Papillon's balloon!
He Immediately got down from the fence-top, and began lodding homeward afoot, muttering as he did so: "Dast the luck! Ding that prisepackage feller! Doggone Bill Powell! Blame the old balloon! Dern everybody when he reached his father's dooryard gate it was some time alter nightfall. Hungry, weak, footsore, collapsed, he leaned his chin on the top rail of the gate, and stood there for a moment, while the starlight tell around him, sifted through the dying foliage of the old beech trees and from the far diiA caverns of the night, a voice smote his ear. crying out tenderly but mockiugly, '•Only*balt-H-dollah!"
And Jack slipped to his room and went supperless to bed, often duriug the night muttering through the interstices of bis sleep, "Bill's got me I'
I It [From the New York Weekly.] POBDt/yK VILLAQR. Stranger! hav yu ever been to Pordunk Village, my natitl place?
It is a dear little lullaby ov a place, sleeping between two small mountains in the State ot Pennsylvania.
It kontains about 1 000 souls now,and is watered bi goos crik,which anders thru the vilage az cooked aud as lazy as a skool boy, on biz way to the distrikt tkool hous. 1 wuz born here, and the ground on which the old bous stood is tbar yet. Mi ancestors are »ll here too, but they hav retired from bizness, and are takin their ease, iu the old grave yard, back uv the'little one-story church.
The red painted taveru, where years ago, the iownfolks gathered in. oA Sunday nigh s, to wet their whistles, and brag on their bush beans, and other garden sass, iz gon, and departed.
And Roger Willi 'ins, where iz he? Rog^r waz the village blacksmith! and could Out argy the parson, on a bit of skriptnre, hiz anvil iz still, and he now lives in his new house, with the rest of the old people just back of the little one-story eburcn.
Whare iz Square Watkins, thejustice of the peace? lie knu law, and the stattews just as eazy az lie did the 10 commands, bis little old offiss,.foi 50 years unpainted, iz now no more.
No one of his name iz left, he and Roger, the blaeksmiih,lay side by side, just ck of the little one-story church, ..z still ..zdrth kan make them.
Sue Dunham, the crazy womnn, I don't see her! Poor Sue, she waz not al wus welkum, but no one turned her ,wav, a nitfhts lodging no one refused, she waz butitulstil, when I waz a boy, but 1 shrunk from the fl.ie-h ofov her misterious eye.
The old folks knu her story, it w:tz that sad one, so ofion told, and so soon forgotten, a mans perfiuy.
Sue Dunham raves no more, but in he farthest korner, just back of the little one siory church, whare the ded lay the tbikest, lays Sue.
A weepin willow, sown bi acksident hangs over her grave, and on her hed stone, theze words, almost knawed awa bi time,can be maid out "Sue Dunham, aged 59."
Parson Powell, who led hiz flok bi the side ov stil waters, who wet with hallowed drops at christenings, who jined wedlok, and vvlio asked Go 1 to take the departing ones, I miss him, too peacefully he sleeps just back ov the little one storv church.
Deakon Tucker, who sold sugar by the pound,and inolassisbi the pint, who dolt in whale ile, and bar sope, who kept raizens.and razor straps, who could uiezzure a yard ov kotton, ov kaliko, tew a thred, and who, 4th of Julys, sold 3 fire krackers tew us boys, fora penny, what haz bekum ov the deakon?
Years ago he fled, not far away, but cluss up tew the back wall ov the little one story church, near to Parson Powell.
An odd felow waz Ez Farnham, and withal az keen at a trade az a hornet. Them az swopped hosses with Ez once, didn't hanker to do it again he waz honest, but oh! how fatal to dicker. No one now, in the whole vilage, remembered him he haz gone whare they don't give nor git boot they put bim in the baff aker, just back ov the little one story church.
Job Pierson iz dead too, and so iz Job's wife, and all ov Job's sons and daUtoife.
I go up and I go down the good old vilage of Pordunk the people all stare at tne ax I atop here and there, tew say te# myself, "here it waz that Lige Turner threw Dave Larkins 40 years ago, in a wrasse 1 on the vilage green, and tbare stood the old town pump."
Here old Beverly,the barber shaved for three cents a shave, and there Burbank baff soled boots for a quarter."
Here—let me see! waz it here? Yes Old Mother Benneway sold toffy here, each stick at leaat 8 inchea long, and made out of Deakon Tucker's best Porto Riko molassis." "Tbare stood the little red skool house, right tbare: it waa the forks ov a road, then, it is the korner ov a block now." "Who kan tell me where Daniel Purdy, the schoolmaater, lives now, no one! I hav asked ad dosen, but no one remembers Daniel Purdy."
It is a sad thing tew be a skoolmssler, no one ever seems to kno wbaro tber go when yu miss tbem. Theyiust aeem to depart, that's all. I never knu one to die, and be buried." "Ah, it Is pleasant!—It isaad, to go baftk tew the village or Pordunk, there is more people now thare than tbare was when I waa a boy, but bow different are theyr-or how different am I."
The old trees are the same, man kant alter them goose krick runs Just Wheco It did, with willows in all of iu elbowa, the mountains on each side haven't grown aay smaller, the birds sing the samersongs, bat I don't know any one that I meet, and what is more lonesome, no one thrt I meet ltnows me*
When I go tew Pordunk, and wsnt to see ennybody that I remember, I go down tho main street tow the first corner. loot whare Joel Parker once lived, then I torn to tho left, and keep on for a ways, till I cum tow the little one story church.
Juat bask ov that they are all living •ow. They dont remember me wbeo »wt frn* rsiasmlitr thm It W&t teUrylong bsfoioI«haIl Jteo
IT la reported that
.W^cc- s.
Yale
ART IN DBBS8.
To a man who haa a quick eye for tho pictureeqne, or, let aa aay, the appropriate, the violations of tsste be nieeta in modern drawlng-rooma are more than disKgreeable they are ghastly. I am aaying notkimff about Indecency* That la hardly a portion of niy present sul|jwt. But why. if a woman haa a neck like a akeleton, must she tell the world ao? Why, if fate has made her grow stouter than it ia permitted to be, iuuat she squeeze aud told ber fat into a tight low dreaa because it is thb fashioti? Why must she draw a bard line around ber shoulders, that set ina to cut her iu two, aud wear aleevea which are mere at rape to keep ber gown on, without caring without knowing, whether her arms are models? Why must sh« wear trimmings of great O'a and X'a and Vandykes on ner skirt, so th »t at a little diatance the first thing about her that strikee the eye is the trimming? Why if very tall, must she take the arm of a very little man, and make herself and hi in look absurd? Why will she draw attention to her want of color by wearing red arsenic green? Why, with red hair ia ber dress pink? Why, when in a pale dress, does she lean against the wall which the barbarity of custom has papered with white? why. with black hair, does she carry a heavy burden of let flowers, combs, and impossibly thick plai's that make her bead look like an elephant's on an antelope's body Why will she trust to the very moderate gifts uature haa endowed her with, to fight against the most abnormal disa ,vantages? Wliv —why—but enough these are only sqpne of the insane mistakes that nearly all girls comuii', many of them, girls with artistic tastes and capacities, in every direction except dress, whose eyee you may see sbine with pleasure at a sunset or a bean-flower—which, nevertheless, they steadily refuse to take a hint from
Very few women know what style of dress suits thein best, or what colors: even those who study the art study it wronglv. One may often see a woman who has the making of a dignified goddess te poser en coquette, or a little creature attempt to be stately who can only be simple. The best graoe is perfect naturalness. Our manners form themselves, but we must lorin our setting of them. Nature can do much, but not everything. Art should do something. You viusl ehoosu suitable colors and suitable shapes for your dresses you must study the room you ure to appear in, if you ever mean to look right and if you know what kind of a room you are about to be seen in, or if you know that it is one of the modern white and glaring drawing rooms, a plain black dress (but never with low neck and short sleeves) will always be safe. The reason thai an ordinary low nerk with short sleeves looks worse iu black than in any other color Is because the hard liiib round the bust and arms is too great a contrast to the skin. A low neck always lessens the lieiuht, »nd a dark dress made thus lessens it still moiv, and it strikes the artis" ic eye as cutting the body in pieces, iu this way :—II you se a fair person dressed iu a low d-uk dress, standing against a light bark ground some way off, the efteet will be that ol au empty dress bung up, the I ice, neck, and arms being scarcely dis cernible. On the other hand, against a dark background the head and bust will be thrown up sharply, and the whole dress and body will disappear. This effect, often enough seen, is exe erably bad. If yon must wear a low black dress, let it be cut square, giving the hei«bt ot the shoulders (or better, the angles rounded, for corners ure very trying,) and have plenty of white or pile gauze, or thin black net, to soften the harsh line between the skin ami the dres*. White giuze or lice softens down the blackness of the dress at the edge of the bodice, and thin black stuff has an equally good eff et, as it shades the whiteness of the skin into the dark color of the gown. Only under these conditions does the sudden contrast enhance, as some persons sup-
Erature
Oollogi talks
of giving character to tba base-ball nuiaanee by pu'robaalng a #80,000 plat of ground to bo devoted to ita practice.
ose, the fairness of the complexion. abhors sharp edges. Wo see contrasts in flowers and in marbles but they are always softened, each col or stealing a little of the other at tho junction of the two. Even the sharp edges of a crag or house against the sky are seen by a practiced eye to gather some softening grayness either from the surrounding colors or by mere perspective. Trees grow thin at the edges aud melt into the sky: in a prism, of course, we see the tender amalgamations ot hues more distinctly, the secondaries lying clearly between the primaries. Ruskin had noticed this surely when he said, "All good color is gradated,"each mixed into the next where there are contrasts.
SIMON SHORTS SON SAMUEL. [We give below the most ingenious specimen ot alliteration we have ever seen. It affords quite an amount of amusement to the "grown up folks" to read it aloud.]
Shrewd Simon Short sewed sboes. Seventeen Summers' speeding storms and spreading sunshine successively saw Siipon's small shabby shop standing staunch, aaw Simon's self-same sign still swinging, silently, specifying: "Simon Short, Smithfleld's sole surviving shoemaker. Shoes sewed, soled superfinely." Simon's spry sedulous spouse, Sally Short, sewed shirts, stitcbea sheets, stuffed sofas. Simon's six stout, sturdy sons—Seth, Samuel. Stephen, Saul, Sbadracb, Silas—sold sundries. Sober Seth sold sugar, starcl, spices Simple Sam, sold saddles, stirrups, screws Sagacious Stephen sold silks, satina, shawls Skeptical Saul sold silver salvers, silver spoons Selfish Shadrach sold shoe strings, soaps, sawe, skates Slack Silas sold Sally Short's atoffed sofas.
Some seven Summers slnoe, Simon second son, Samuel, aaw Sophia Sophronia Spriggs somewhere. Sweet, sensible, smart Sopbia Sophronla Spriggs. Sam soon showed strange symptoms. Sam seldom stayed storing, selling saddles. Sam sighed »oniowtally, sought Sohia Sophronla ssmriety, sang several serenades alily. 8lmon stormed, scolded, severely, said Sam seemed so silly, singing such shameful,
8tn»nge^nfa'm should sllaAt such splendid Summer salee!" said Simon. "Struttingspendthrift 1 shatter-brained alsnnlftlAll.'
Sally, sweet-
simpleton. .. "Softly, softly, tiro," said smitten—Sam's spied "Sam's heerte" "Sentimental schoolboy!" snarled Simon. "Smitten! Stop snch stnff!"
Simon sent Sally's snuff-box spinseising Sally's eoiasors, smashed spectacles, scattering several "Sneaking scoundrel! Sam's ing silliness shall sureeseel Scowling Simon rtoppod spsakiaa starting swiftly shopwwd. Sally sighed sadly. Snmmoninn Sam, aha apoke sweet sympathy.
nlng, Sally fir's
dng so stop singing sstensdss stop
hi
short I Sell sa Idles, sonny sell' sad-
phia speedily Sam." "So soon so soon?" said Sam standing stock still. "So soon! surely," said Sally, amiling, 'specially aincu sire ahows such spirit."
So Sam, somewhat scared, sauntering alowly, shaking atapenduously. Sam soliloquises: "Sophia Sophronia Spriggs Short— S iphiaSophronia Short, Samuel Short's spouse—sounds splendid! Suppose shs should say—she shant!"
Soon Sam spied Sophia starching shirts, singing aoftly. Seeing S iu she' stopped starching saluted S^uu smilingly. Sam stammered shockingly.
S^-sp-splendid Summerseason, So-
Soinewhat sultry," suggested Sophia. "Sar-sartin, Sopbia," said Sam. (Silence seventeen seconds.) "Selling saddles still, Sam?" "Sar-8ar-sartiu." said Sam, starting suddenly. "Season's somewhat soporofic,"said Satn stealthily staunching streaming sweat, striking ensibly. "Sartin," said Sophia, sinilingsignifieantly. "Sip some sweet sherbet, Sam." (Silence sixty seconds.) "Sire shot sixty sheldrakes, Saturday." said Sophia. "Sixty? sho!" said Sain. (Silencs seventy-seven seconds "See sister Susan's sunflowers!" said Sophia, sociably scattering such stiff silence.
Sophia's sprightl.v sauciness stimulated Sam strangely so Sun suddenly spoke sentimeutally: "Sopbia, Susai 's sunflowers seem saying: 'gan.uel Short, Sopbia Sophronia Spriggs, stroll serenely, seek some sequestered spot, soiue sylvan shade. Sparkling Spring shall sing soul-soothing strains sweet songsters shall silence secret sighing super-angelic syl.-plis shall—'
Sophia snickered so Sun stopped. "Sophia," said Sam solemnly. "Sam," said Sophia.
1
"Sophia, stop smiling. Sam Short's sincere. Sam's seeking some sweet spouse, Sophia. '•Speak! Sophia, speak such suspense speculate sorrow." "Seek sire, Sam, seek sire."
So Sam sought sire Spriggs. Sire Spriggs said,—''Sartin."
SMALL DECErrS.
Men at first deceive, owing it but by the constant use ol deception thuy case to even know that they are doing it. Gradually it blinds the moral sense. And it is in this direr ion great ties are less harmful than lit le one. M'-n think th a ureal bl-.rk lie is verv oulpable. I suppose it is. but when au armorer wUli'S by scouring, to cut the very surf ice of th metal (l« wn. what doe- h* d«? Take a barot iron and rub it? No betake finery. Its pirti'-les are ..s sin 11 a a pin's point ami these he puts on, nid tiy scouring lie cuts dov\ the sttr-
l0t
.—takes oft the e.iaiml. You think tciai a great lie is a great sin, and a great shame to man but after all, le *e little lies are more dangerous, because ihore are so many ol iln-m and because each one of them is tlia,uoiid-poinied. And these little petty untruths which are so small that you do not notice them, are the ones that take oil the very enamel of the moral sens'—cut aw.iy its surface. And men become so accustomed to it, that ino do not recognize that they are pulling things in false lights, when, by-word, by deed, by indirections, by itgerations, by shifting the emphasis, by various dynamictu means, tliev present things, not as they see ti.cm, but as they want to see them.
Tliisphantasm igoric process by wldeh men are throwing fd«e lignis upon action and motive upon what is happening and going to happen the ten thousand little modes by wlii.-li men are seeking to pervert things, and make them seem different -from what they really are the petty falseness to which men resort iu order that they may realize their vain ambitions life—these are pernicious and demoralizing iu the extreme. And ihe habit of employing them wears tho character more than a great rousing lie told six times a year would do. Yet there are men who, if they are convicted of falsehood in a great transaction, would lose their character forever. Their neighbors would say of them, "We cannot trust sueh men as they are." And those very persons who say they would not trust them, do not hesitate to indulge themselves in five million petty falsehoods, little midgets of lies, in the course of a year. A lion is to be dreaded, to be sure but deliver me from those bloodsucking insects which make me smart and sudor! A single mosquito is not much but a multitude of them, myriads of them,, amount to a great deal. And it is this falseness in little things that tends to dim, to obscure, to almost obliterate, a sense of truth. There are men who have almot emirely lost their sense of proportion, their appreciation of magnitude, and their understanding ot the connection between cause ana effect. Tney look at everything in the light of what they want, so much that they think that is true which they desire to have true.—[H. W. Beecher.
'BESSEMER STEEL.
Of twenty-four mining and manufacturing companies incorporated in London in December 1871, several are lor raising and working iron oree. The flourishing state of the iron trade in England nas stimulated the production of metal. Alarm in several quarters aa to the supply of ore not keeping pace with thia increased production,has been used sa a lever to raise tho necessary capital. The red hematite ores of Cumberland and Lancashire have doubled in price witbin the last two years, and all other ores are advancing, though In not quite the same proportion. Except a considerable quantity of calcareous brown hematites from Devonahire and the Forest of Dean, in Someraetahire. about ail the nig metal oaed ln the English manufacture of Bessemer steel Is from the ores ot those two loealitiee, which together produce some 2,000,000 tons per annum, now mostly absorbed in the immediate vicinity of the mines. The growth of this manufacture and the high price of ore have so greatly increased the cost of Beeeemer pig as to bar® l«d to a strong combination, on tbe part of consumers to supplement the borne supply Jfdn a pore and rich hematite from Spain, which haa been found to fully answer tho requirements of a Bessemer ore. What would they not give in hngland lor our Lake Superior or Missouri specular
oree—withouteveo
PlBotH*eennot
a trace of pbos-
be long before we shall
•eo these unique treasures of our» pu» to their proper use Ihe manufacture and conversion of Bessemer pig—on eealo •—»what to proportion ®u» growing consumption of nutiMll wo promote, by aodbjr. worthy oflbrte of oar Englieh ^lends to got down tho Besoemor raw material bf relieving them of our preeent large demand for the manuf [Goal and lion Record.
tared article.—