Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 2, Number 29, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 13 January 1872 — Page 2

that

Aw&t? Dving^ifher prfeie, and luxpry everyWlttl ev«iy thing uld ask--^veai»e!

satin the parlor below mber thinking or lhi»,

be* tMnib-. and of* what t1

•m

r.«nn»iiipgray-haired pbysitfaH had said him Mit one short hour before. "I bnpe all the tales I hear, owy not be true?" a* Id the old man gr«vrty el. pityingly. "I hope you have been a good husband to yotir wife. What is she dying of, r"o you ask? There is no ftuelt thing in realiiy aa* broken heart, but she h:i« (jone *B ne«r to it as any human being can. I hope, I sincerely bo,*, that 1' is not your fault!"

Tbat WHS what the old man had dared to a»y there to his face. And he. hot-tempered and impetuous as be was well known to be, had borne it in sllencc—bad uttered no word In his own deiense. Tb-tt was what they would I'll aay, friends and enemies alike, ere long for she was dying—no human skill or aid could save her. And tbey would say be had killed her! What could be answer then? What could be answer now

Even as he sat there wrestling with his misery and remorse, the distant notes of a piano fell upon bis e*r, and the sweet tones

of

food-bye—and

a

:itanx

a woman't voice

soon followed, singing one ot the songs he loved. He buried his fic in his hands and gro ined aloud. Oh, tbat be had never heard that voice—never seen Ibat latul free!—not beautiful but gifted with a charm more l.ital than beauty—tlio deadly gift of fascination, wbieb had laid him htlpless at tbe enchantress' very leot.

He rose and paced the room till the song bad cased. It came from the open windows ol a room in the hotel opposite his bouse. Fie glanced up there. The lights were briiri.t within, and as the lace -urtains swayed to and lro in the summer evening air, he saw the songstress sitting at the piano, and a tall and manly form bending down to turn the leave?. He ground his teeth at the sight. Jealous! and upstairs his wife lay dying!

He went slowly up to that deathchamber. witn a pale face and aching heart. He sat down beside the bed. Her wasted face bright* ned all over with a loving smile at his approach. The weak, cold hand tried to seek bis own.

Come nearer," she whispered, He bent bis proud bead. It was a strange, sad contrast his glorious manly beauty, and his stately'form instinct with life and strength, and the wan, worn figure gasping olit its last breath beneath bis saddened gaze. "I know all. dea.," she whispered. "I understand it all, and I love, and pity, and forgive you. You could not help it dear. I was no fitting wife for you, with all your glorious gifts. I oould not comprehend you, ana so you turned to/ sympathy to her. But I loved you and so it grieved me—and I am here!" "I know it! I shall never forget it! Your pale, sad face will haunt me till I die!" be cried out suddenly.

Oh, no do not say that. When I am gone—when 1 am gone, dear, have no thought of mo that is not sweet and

gentle and pleasant. I shall be safe in nothing can grieve or pain me there. I have forgiven all, dear—oh, believe me, I have forgiven all! It will soon be over now and vou—you will be free! Be happy With her, aear. I shall leel no pain! Only give me one kind thought now and then. Say to yourself—oh, my darling!—say that I always loved you, ana must rejoice in your happiness, whatever it may be. You loved me once, doar—at least vou thought yon did, and even the mistake was enough to make me happy. Kiss me now, lor the sake of that old time. Kiss me

!leaven—and

forgive—forgive me that

have lived so long, my darling, and kept you away from her!" Forgive her that she has lived so long!

The siren's song had died away. Only the fulling accents of the dying wife were heard. Had he been mad indeed, lor the past seven weary months Was this, alter all, the woman whom he truly loved—this gentle uncomplaining creature, who had kissed the hand that had dealt her a cruel death-blow?

He clasped her to his heart with a sudden rush of tender memory that might well be tender love. "Forgive me, my dearest!" he said in a broken (returning voice. "Only live to bless mel Do not let let that old man's words prove true. Show that I have not broken your heart, or killed you by my cruelty, and I swear before noaven to make amends for all! Kisa me love, and say

The form that had leaned so lightly against his breast was leaning more heavily now. The bright bright blue eyes tnat had sought his own so lovingly were closed: the Hps he sought to press were coldly fixed In a sweet, 8*d smile. He laid ner down upon the pillows, and stood back, with (olded arms.to view his work. Dying? No—but dead! Ami with the smile that had greeted her late return to honor and to love, she would look down upon him hencoforth from heaven.

^Kwt'ATms in lli'srna.—The Russian Government is taking means to further tho cause of education throughout the Csar's vast domains. And judging from the statistics published there was great need of such action. In 18.VJ, with a population of 65.000,000, Russia had but 450,000 pupils in her schools.

According to the last census her population amounts (o about 78,000,000. and if the Increase in school attendance kept pace with the population, the number of children attending school would at this time be only alioot half a million in the whole empire. But in reality there has been a tolling off in the school attendance wince the teachers have been confined to the exclusive rise of the Russian language, the people in the western part or the empire having a decided aversion for the national tongue. Russia has excellent colleges what she now requires is to bring witbin tbe reach of all the means of obtaining a common-aenool education.

Tub Sjiaix-pox in AmcirntTixk*.— The ravages of the disease in the thirteenth century, at which time the Cruxadera met in the Kaat were fearful. It was a worse enemy than the Harsren, and is to lie counted among the ntanv things, evil and good, which date in fcurope and this country from (be effort* ot the Christians to recover the Holy Land from its Mohammedan possessors. Beginning its ravages in Spain and France, (he small-pox first appeared as an epidemic in Germany in 1486. Military expeditions and invasions were the «o»t notable means of the transmission of the fearful

From Oern.an.v and France

soourge. roiu wntiwiy the disease spread *11 over Europe, and rune thence to this continent.

yon impreshuns sre sed tew be lasting. Kuny man who has only been

ol a hornet once will aware to

this.—[Josh Billings.

SAME OLD SPEECH. »h Williams, of Columbia oount New York, was a most graceful speaker ml any tolls pwtbet* ly Itself.

and his voice,particular le tones, was uiel All who remeiii voice (he was call fellow-members York,) cau apprj oratorv of Mr.

"tKa FItte"ftfr biff theT bar late the*«»elli|Hnottt lianas.

His power over Jury was astonishing. He swayed them all with the wand of an enchantress and it was very seldom he failed to secure a verdict for bis client but on one occasion he did it in such a ridiculous manner that a crowded court aud grave judges on the bench wern convulsed with laughter at the burlesque of the result.

He was completely discomfited by an ignorant impndeut, unlettered pettllogger, who knew no Isw, but soma bow or other bad the credit of shrewduess, and the reputation among his neighbors of being har.l to beat.

Tho case, if we remember rightly,was an act of murder. Mr. Williams, of course, on the

ground

of his power over a jury, was

tor the defence. His peroration was exceedingly touching and beautiful. "Geutlemen of the jury," said he, "if you c«n find the unhappy prisoner at the bar guilty ol the crime with which lie is cuarged, after the adverse and irrefragable arguments whi--h I have laid out before you, pronounce your verdict. Send him to lie in chains oil a dungeon floor, awaiting the death which be is to receive at your hands then go to the bosom of your families —go lay your heads on your pillows aud sleep it you cau."

The effect of these closing words of tbe great legal orator was at tirst thrilling and by-and-by the pettifogger, wno had volunteered to follow the prosecutiug attorney, arose and said: "Geutleuien of tbe jury, I should despair after the weeping speech that has been made to you by Mr. Williams, of saying anything to you to do away with his eloquence. 1 never heard Mr. Williams speak tbat piece of his'n bet ter than he spoke it just now. Once I heard him speak it in tbe case of stealiug down in Schagticoke then he tpoke It ag'in in the case of rape up to Esopus and the last time I been) it before jest now, was when them niggers was tried—and convicted, too,th was—for robbing Van Pelt's hen house, over beyond Kingston but I never knowed bim to speak it so elegant and affVctin' as what he spoke it jest now."

This was a poser. The jury looked at one another, whispered together, and our pettifogger saw at once that be bad got them.

He stopped at once, closing with tbe brief remark: If you can't see, gentlemen of tho jury, tnat this one speech don't answer all cases, there's no use ot my sayin' any more."

And there wasn't: he had made his case, and they awarded his verdict.

THE PROGRESS OF REFINEMENT. Those who study the world's history, in tbe way ef eating and drinking especially, cannot tail of observing how refined even our coarsest people are bb to what they were years ago. Among tbe civilized portions of society of modern times, the number of those who often over-eat is very limited. But what can be said of the older civilizations? Look at those of ancient Persia and Romerand even that of our forefathers in Great Britain and Northern Europe. With them, gluttony was a prominent, it not universal vice, among those who could obtain the material on which to be gluttonous. Tbe vice is a relic of savagery—of a social state When food was scarce, or at least uncertain, and men were tempted to gorge themselves in order to compensate for the famines ofthe past and anticipate those that were to come. 'Savages, and those immediately progressed from them, also have so little intellectual culture and so few amusements, that the gratification of appetite has limited restraints but witn the rise of modern culture, with the vast multiplication ot books and newspapers, with the varied oppor-

tunities for literary and social activity and recreation, in lectures, public worship. in political gatherings in the multitudinous cares und details of science, art. scholarship, education and trade, ana with the varying and incessant demands of fashion, and, in connection with all these activities, with an improved moral sense and consequent growing repugnance to coarse vices, crimes of evyy kind are either disappearing, or, retaining their oontined essence, nsiume a more refined character. Thus the love for bull-tights and the gladiatorial arena, has given way to the pantomine, the tragedy, and the itely fo

ballet.

And, immediately follow this,

we see tbat intemperate drinking, which only halt a century ago was almost universal in tho leading classes of Great Britain and the United States, and was held in esteem, has now become among these classes an exceptional vice, and is held in great reproach. Ardent spirits have, to a certain extent, been replaced by the milder stimulants, tea and coffee, and chocolate. Similarly, also, the disgusting habit of tobacco-chewing has slowly yielding to tobacco-smoking, and, carrying tbe refinement further still, the filthy pipe has been cast aside infavorof tbe meerschaum, the cigar and the cigarette aud, at last, these are gratjuallv losing favor, till we find the most refined are throwing away all narcotics and stimulants, and breathing a more asstbetio atmosphere. All these former habits of intoxication, from the sturdy women of Queen Bess's reign, gulping their beer by the quart, to the fashionable lady ol West End or Fifth Avneue, delicately sipping her weak chocolate or tea. have, a common basis but the difference between the former and the lstter represents the difference between the coarseness of the sixteenth and tbe culture of the in

J-fiUNDA SCHOOL STORIES. We never tried to write more than two juvenile books, and those were written in response to a request from one of the managers of the Sunday Union. He desired to have a story which should teach the value of oaring for little things, and of tbe importance of patient industry, and one which would show the sinfulness of theft. So we wrote him one tale, and called it "The Wool Gleaner." It related how a little boy named Sammy Jones picked a handful of wool from a hedge one dav, and went home and planted it in his little garden. When the plants grew, he watered them, and cared for them tenderly, until they ripened, when he replanted tbe seeds, and Increased his crop from year to year, until he became the greatest wool-grower In the country,

and

got to be very rich,

and had money enough to «p» to the sirens whenever be wanted to, and spend all his time ptanrtttg hop-scotch, snd eating vellow-jack, and enfoylng himself. -What a noble tenon, my dear children, I* taoght by U»e example of Sammy Jettes, sad how ardently

in those paths which lead

Hoflteanl.

TERRE-HAUTR SATURDAY EVENING MAIL. JANUARY 13,1*72.

I ought you to strive, like him, to walk

train mel ad enjoyment of the ctfwi

a p&)es ftom I IWrfiers orchard. Aj spues hewou otl of 4 feiice, aH of a

ffcrtteri

always managt to slide limb, sod~^llnH» ovw-ihe sudden, 'before the mrm-

er's dog oould reach him. But one day while this scandalous bov wss up tbe tree, the farmer came along with his dog, and told the dog to lie down and watch for Tony. And Tony laughed, and vowctM to tne farmer that 11 the dog Wits not ottlfed off he wouldest all the: farmer's apples. So Tony began, snd cleaned off a half a bntthel of'fruit but before he conld eat any more, the gas in tbe apples exploded, and the miserable boy was blown into fragments,aud flew all over the field, where he was eaten by the farmer's dog.

Strange to say, tbe manager up at the Union seemed to think these thrilliug stories would hardly do, and they have never been in print yet. We are willing to sell them for a small consideration to any father who desires to teach his children deep moral lessons in an attractive form. [From the Uolden Age.}

DO WOMEN WANT SUFFRAGE. The Times wants to know what pro portion of women throughout the country "ask" for the suffrage. We cannot tell, except tbat their name is legion. There are no accurate statistics. We used to be inquired of by th«j abetters of slavery. Wlni proportion of slaves "ask" for freedom? Nobody ever could tell, but the bolitionists al ways thought it sate to guess a very lar^e figure. The result has proved them correct in their surmise.

But there is ample and written evidence, in the form of women's signatures to petitions for the franchise showing that probably leu thousanU times as many women have "asked" for their enfranchisement, as there were negroes who "asked" for their emancipation. We call.to mind a single petition which went to Congress a lew years ago containing the names of one hundred thousand women, making the very demand concerning which the Times inquires.. Three years ago, the editor of the Golden Age (then conducting another journal) published a brief advertisement in the press at large, asking to be furnished with the names of persons throughout tho United Slates who took an active interest in woman suffrage and the return let ters, every day for six or eight weeks, filled a satchel crammed full twice a day and before the responses finally ended, the names footed up to eighteen thousand! Let a public speaker be ad vertised to lecture on woman suffrage, and (judging from our own experience) the audience will generally consist of about one-third opponents, one-third indifferentists, and one-third friends.

There are certainly more women in this country who have "asked" for the suffrage than there are men who have "askea" for a tariff, or for free trade, or for the Washington treaty, or for the Northern Pacific Railroad, or for the public school system, or for any of the great political measures which the Times opposes or advocates.

But will the Times con less that question of right is to be decided merely by numbers? How many free negroes "asked" for the ballot The ballot was given to them without their multitudinous asking. It was known to be their right, ana was accorded to them on the score of principle, not of multitude. A just government should not wait to be "askra" to do justice it should do it without asking. If not a solitary slave bad ever "asked" for his freedom, nevertheless the slavos should have been Ireed. If net a solitary freed inan had ever "asked" for his ballot, nevertheless tbe freedman should have been enfranchised. So if not a solitary woman should

('ssk"

for the

equal political rights which justly belong to all citizens, nevertheless women as well as other citizens should be endowed with each and all of these rights.

Bi ut women are "asking" for the suffrage, as is evidenced by the fact that they are holding conventions, distributing tracts, giving lectures, writing petitions, interviewing committees, publishing journals, holding bazars, and doing a hundred other busy thingsjust as the Sanitary Commission did during the war—to carry forward their peat movement to success. Not the east of these later evidences of vantage gained is the fact that the Times itself utters a generous testimony in behalf of their claim, accompanying it only with such doubts as always present themselves to every fresh thinker on a great reform.

WONDBRPUL IMPROVKMBNT IN FlWSarms.—"That's a pretty solid piece ot oak," said General Leggett, the Commissioner of Pensions, picking up a stick sixteen inches thick, through which there was a small and remarkably clean cut hole. "That hole was made by a rifle-ball, and, after making the hole as you see it here, the same ball went through eight pine planks, in all nine iuches thick. The oak, you see, has a knot when the ball came to that, it was turned about ten degrees from a straight line, and thence went straight on and through the pine." Thislllustrates one of the most recent and at tbe samtf time, most wonderfal improvements in firearms. Tbe rifle from which the ball having such wonderful force was fired is supplied with extra chambers ranged along the barrel, which are loaded and explode one alter another as the ball, having received its first impulse, passes them. It is estimated that a ball shot from one of these rifles would go at least 2}4 miles, if it met with no obstacles. Experiments with heavy artillery operating upon this principle have been made In Englsnd, and tbe results indicate a probability of extensive changes in the construction of large guns.

What u» Taos PotrriMtiiss ?—I believe it is best to be known by description, definition not being sble to comprise it. I would, however, venture to call it benevolence in trifles, or the preference of others to ourselves, in liule daily, hourly occurrences in tbe oommerue of life. A better place a more commodious seat, priority in being helped at table what is it but sacrificing ourselves in such trifles to tbe convenience and pleasure of others?, And this constitutes true politeness. 1 It is a perpetual attention (by habit it grows easy and natural to us) to the little wants of those we are with, by which we either prevent or remove, them. Bowing ceremonies, formal compliments, stiff civilities, ai.d too obtrusive attentions in the society of| the Gair sex, will never be politeness: that most be eaay, natural, unstudied,,? manly, noble. And what will give ibis but a mind benevolent and perpetually attentive to exert that amiable disposition in trifles towards all von converse and Uve wifch?—(Chesterfield.

j4

Tub Methodist bsllt four churches a day last year.

4

[From Dark Bine.] ON CRIME.

Onr preseut method of des! erime is entirely tbe j'after represented- by punWinMit, what Is pMlelMftenii Funi«fcmef|t is a "counteinctlm In f|» wrong place," by which tttfiik «t impresaiug the individual fjiat |MS done the

M«e

tiou in tbttwrong place,'* that the disagreeable eflTenta produced by it are to react upon himself in disagreeable effeot. At the bottom of punishment there is no curative principle it is a mere social "tit for tat." But all social action that isnot curative, or progressive, or proiluctive, to wasteful—wasting the powers tbat ought to be pro duetive in tbe individual, and wasting the substance by which this unproductive individual is maintained. If we did not indulge in so much wasteful humanity, would that unproductive tail to our social system exi»t as it does now? Whit effect has punishment, or thesoci il "tit for tat," upon mankind? A curative one? No to some extent a restraining one, requiring a continual reapplication, a continual v:st machinery to keep it going costing man dear, in misapplied substanoe, to keep those individuals in restraint tbat will indulge in action in tbe wrong place." But tbe individual tbat baa, by punishment, or counter-action, once Ixteu placed beyond the pale ot "worthy me'nberxbip," never «n recover it* pristine glory of innocence aud this feeling of conscious deterioration lies at the bottom with all such people as "habitual criminals." Take from a man or woman the idea of worth mem bersbip, aud what Remains to him or her? Despair, and cons* quent d' timw of such member ship. Wbeu any one ventures to look a little deeper into the workings of tbe human heart, into the component laws of society, how virtu bus and self sufficient men laugh and sneer at him "Fudue and nen» n*e,'" tbey say "hang a murderer, imprison a thief, transport a forger, cudgel a housebreaker, and destroy the whole brood, if you can. You may do something in reformatories with young flesh and blood, but the grown-up criminal Is incorrigible." Then Philanthropby steps in, pats him on the back, and says, "Repent, and look upward." Why,the deteriorated creature does not know what that means it wants first human help to guide it, tbe other it is always sure ot God requires but one sincere look upward to forgive man wants years of sluggardly life in prisons, In* convict colonies, in degrading Work and degrading associations, to forgive and when he does forgive, and restores this deteriorated member to society, be makes quite sure tbat it isbonlcl ever remember it never can regain its former place. There are men who begin to look deeper into the meaning ofthe word "Crime," and begin to say a word (or its wasted human ity, and that ot "Pauperism." It inav require much time and thought, before our ideas can become clearer and juster on the point but what can we do now to fight those over-selfish desires, that "action in the wroijg place," and to stem the current of wasted life The only useful method is, an ever-constant exertion to tiain men and women into regulated channels, and to make these channels wide enough for the more and the less successful, that they may get some gratification of desire out of them. As long as gratification only rests with the successful, as long as minkind will not take into account that it must form its grander principles than of success," so long shall we remain social muddlers, wasteful of human substance. In every institution—if we may call prisons such—now maintained for restraint and punishment, a curative, not only a religious method ought to be employed, to restore some pristine vigour and mental health to that deterorated social member, who, unless received back into membership, must repeat the "action in the wrong place." We only require reflection to overcome many aversions towards sinare all of removthe accident ot birth, training, or social influence. The more we lesson pauperism and crime, the higher shall we rise in humanity, for the less will be tbe waste of that existence, which is onr own, and the more shall we cast off tbat first sneer of our forefather, Cain—"Am I my brother's keeper?"

judgment on tne "accident

THE SENSATION OF LIMBS.

ABSENT

It has long been known to surgeous that when a limb has beeu cut on tbe sufferer does not lose tho consciousness ot its existence. This has been found to be true in nearly every case. Only about five per cent, of the men who have suffered amputation never have any feelinK of the part as being still present. Of the rest there are a few who in time come to forget the missing member, while the remainder seem to retain a sense of its existence so vivid as to be more definite and intrusive than is that of the truly living fellow member.

A person in this condition is haunted, as it were, by a constant or inconstant fractional phantom of so much of himself as has been lopped away—an unseen ghost of the lost part, and sometimes a presence made sorely inconvenient by the fact that while bat faintly felt at times, it is at others acutely called to bis attention by the pains or irritations which it appears to suffer from a blow on the stump or a change in the weather.

There is something almost tragical, something ghastly, Tn the notion of these thousands or spirit limbs haunting as many good soldiers, and every now and then tormenting them with the disappointments which arise, when, the memory being off guard for a moment, tbe keen sense of the limb's resence betrays the man into some effort, the ffcilure of which of a sudden reminds him of his loss.

Many persons feel the lost limb as existing the moment they awaken from the merciful stupor of the ether given to destroy tbe torments of the knife others come slowly to this consciousness in davs and weeks, and when the woana was healed bat. as a rule, the more sound and serviceable the stump, especially if an artificial limb be worn the mora likely is the man to feel faintly tbe presenoe of his shorn member. Sometimes a Mow on tbe stump will re-awaken such consciousness, or, as happened in one ease, a reamputation higher np the limb will summon it anew into seeming existence.

With others it is a presence never absent. save in sleep. "If," says one

(From the Indiana Cbil-tlan Advocate.) THE MEANEST A correspondent of the JHw Y«rk Obeeryer, hapg heard

rviait fVouWI anonglhem a lieelft and then iedaeted five dollaimjrom bis •alary on acoovnt ftf the W»rd thus fammed, offered fifty dollars JM* a specimen of ibeannesa that should eclipse this.

One correspondent tells of a Congregational flock wbo sent a committee to estimate tbe value of the truck raised by the minister in the garden attached t« (he bouse rented by himself. Thev fixed th" V4lue at eighteen dollars, and. ItMStnocb as it was raised by him, and he was hired by tbe year, tbey deducted eighteen dollars from his salary.

Another tellsof a donation party giv en to Baptist preacher in mid-winter.

The wife provided a supper for all who attended, but at tbe settlement every article was charged, including five cents apiece for two palm-leaf 'fans donated about New Years.

Another claims the prize for a vestryman of an Episcopal Church to whom a stranger gave five dollars as he retired from the church in consideration of the interest he had felt in the sermon, as a present to the rector. The vestryman nanded over the money but charged it oil account of salary.

A Reformed Dutch brother says he kuows the meanest man. He was called to preach for a neighboring pastor who had just buried two children, and two uiore were sick. As he came down from tbe pulpit one ot the elders offered him a bank note whose value he did not notice. He thanked the elder, and returned tbe money with the request that it be given to the afflicted pastor with his love and sympathy. The elder conveyed the love ana sympathy, but never the money.

A pastor of a congregation near a fashionable watering place, last summer, held occasional service in the parlor of the hotel. In consideration of his attentions the boarders made up a small purse as a present to the preacher. His session deducted the amount irom his salary.

If the fifty dollars has not been ap propriated we we would like to have it jlbr a Methodist brother, who owned a 'large farm near Greenfield, Indiana, within the memory of many living. He came to Greenfield with a load of

he drove to the parsenage and present ed it te the preacher. Himself and wife and daughter accepted an invitation to dinner, end his two horses were fed in tbe preacher's stable with the preacher's corn, but at the next quarterly meeting, a bill of twentv-flve cents was presented for the busnel ef meal. Wasn't ho the meanest man

THE WIFE A COMPANION. Make a companion of her in the fullest acceptance of the tertn,'and do not consider it beneath your dignity to suit your conversation to her tastes and intellect. Tbe price current may contain matter vastly more interesting to yon, but it is very probable that your young wife would as lief hear you discourse of other matters than the prioe of cotton or the texture ot broadoloth. Study diligently the art of pleasing. Cultivate those thousand and one nameless attentions, which are so much prized by the female sex, and learn to take an interest in whatever occupies her attention. Do not affect an air of listless tolerating condescension, when she Is pointing out tbe progress of her embroidery,and shun the treason of yawns asshedwells upon the little details of her domestic government.

These hints may seem trifling, but the non-observance of them may be attended with the most serious results. If we could anatomize the human mind, bow frequently would we discover, £hat the seed from which tbe upas tree of estrangement hath sprung, is of a scarcely preceptible minuteness. Be as much at home as possible. A pregnant source of discomfort in the nuptial state is unsettled habits of the husband in this respect. Nothing can be inore galling, or disheartening to a young wife, after the first few honeymoons have passed, than the frequent absence of her spouse in the evenings. A suspicion is immediately excited in her mind, that the flame ot affection begins to burn low. and that she hath lost the power of pleasing, and whenever this feeling occurs, tbe risk is great, that the wish to please will soon cease to exist. There is no rule without an exception, bflt in general, would hold that a young husband should have few engagements of an evening, where his wife aid not accompany W

OvkRpotno It.—It is the hardest thing in the world to do a thing just enough, without burning It, from a beefsteak to an act of good. A story illustrative of this comes from Detroit, where mechanic named Dubois took to drinking, and was speedily transformed from a hard-working man into a drunken sot. His good wife scolded, entreated, diminished tbe thickness ot bis bread without the use of a razor, but could make no change. One night Dubois arrived home and found that his wife and his coat had changed places—the latter lay on the floor and the tormer was suspended from the hook. Up rushed Dubois to tho rescue, took his wife down, and after much labor, brought her to her senses. Tbe attempt at suicide completely sobered him, and like Obadiah Old buck, he turned over a new leaf. He promised never to drink again, and probably would have kept his word ir his wife had been able to keep her own counsel. But she was jnst smart enough to Inform several of her neighbors thst tbe apparent banging was a put np job, the rope being tied under her arms. The knowledge of this liule practical ioke coming to Dubois' ears, he first thrashed the whole family, then performed some extraordinary feat of furniture-smash-ing, and finally left tbe premises, and has not been seen since.

A *Bwi,Y-ii«ViUfTED fly-paper in Tlis covered with nitromo lasses.

tusville, I'a.,

ic glycerine, glue, and molasses. T&e

man, "I should say" I am more sure cf flics, attracted by the molMnes, 'light, at and are stuck fhst by tbe glue. Should the leg which ain't than of the one that »»I ftuoss I should be about correct."— any get away they proceed to rub (Lippiueott's Magazine. I their legs together in ecstacy, when

the

1

Whkbk Britain Gifts Hkk Hkvkxitb.—Nearly halt of tbe internal revenue of Great Britain is derived from inland duties on malt and spiritous liquors and licenses for their sale. For the year 1W9 the amount of revenue obtained from these sources was nineteen millions sterling, or ninetyfive millions ot doltamr

friction or their own shins eaoses

the nitro-glycerfne sdhering to their limbs to

feet and them to atoms.

THE LITTLE FREEDMAN.

Passing often by onr freedman attracted const tlon, especially one wjio child, had hagLmetfgpw groom of tMP^Khleai^ Hi half a dosen

*%tena slave

tosed itifp a charge of ponies,.

xe|pgNB

1

Another tarnishes an account of a donation viait paid to a Presbyterian

Eis

reacber, at which every donor affixed name and the value to each article furnished. At tbe close, there was found a parcel of ground pepper not appraised by the giver. The elders weighed it and valued it at two cents and this, with all tbe other articles was charged to the preacher, and deducted irom his salary.

iter, riding and most dignity as

whom he drove daily to behind them on th^. .ol sedate one with as moc 'ever knight of old bestrode bis Arabian chanter on the plains of Palestine. The fait hftilness with which this little sable Leonidas performed bis task induced us to venture upon an acquaintance with him and knowing that asking a favor, Cor which I would reward him with money, would be the most pleasing to him, and being tond of cats, we proposed to him to bring us a kitten, for which we would return a stipulated price.

His keen bla*k eyes d-mced with satisfaction, as bis bare heels twinkled round the corner and in the course of half an hour, he appeared, bat in band, and a kitten in the orown of it, about the sise of a pint cup before he unrolled it, and with glistening ivories, displayed its tiny velvet paws and white breast. "So, your name is Leonidas Mason and what are you going to do with your money?" asked I, as he depositi*d the 8*rip with a banker-like air, in an old purse, which he placed in th^ old pocket of bis pantaloons.that were altogether too high, too low, and too broad for his small, elfish figure. Ot course, -I knew he would go and buy sweetmeats for his jaws grealiy reseuililed a pair of nut-eraekers, And his mouth looked as if it might contain two whole ounces of sugar plums at once.

Leonidas rolled his eyes around with an air of pleasant anticipation. Ho placed his bands in his pockets—not a gentlemanly practice at all, by the way —and responded, "I'se goin' to save 'um." "It won't do you any good lying in your pocket," I ventured to suggest, "Goin' to git more to put with 'um."

Ah I see. You want to buy enough for a large moulhful, when you buy at all.!'

Leonidas didn't quite understand. The cavity in his face broadened perceptibly, and the "windows" above it enlarged. At last he caught the idea. "Ain't goin' to put 'um in my niouff." "Where, then?"

Hew ts becoming rapidly enlightened and with a one sided smile on his shining visage, ho answerod, "On granny's back, when Christmas comes."

I began to feel ashamed of my foul suspicious. I thought of the wasp and bee—how an ugly object by its works became beautiful. Granny was old and blind, and sometimes not quite comfortably cared for. Leonidas was going to buy her a shawl, to help keep her old shoulders warm.

I determined to assist Leonidas in a similar manner, till he should be able to accomplish what, to him, was a heroic undertaking, By the time ho bad huuted up another kitten for a playmate to the first, and brought a little pig, some chickens, and a puppy, which were all gratuitous gifts from some of bis sable patrons, who were small property-holders, be had enough to buy a shawl, and on Christmas morning, I asked to go with him, so as to be preseut at the presentation. I knew just what the grateful old woman would do. I expected to hear her '•bress de chile," and see her crv, and bold up her hands with astonislimen and gratitude. But she didn't do any such thing. With the utmost deliberation, she spread the shawl out on her lap, and bent over it, as if straining her sightless orbs to dtsoover the colors and texture. After she had passed her hands over it carefully, she said, "Well, chile, I kin set up nowadays. I genully lies abed dis cold wedder to keep warm."

I was disappointed whether Leonidas Was or not. As we left the cabin, 1 watched him, unobserved, to see if I could discover any lack of tho pleasurable feelings with which be had approached gnnny's cabin, with tho siirtwl under his arms. He seemed in .a more oemfortable state of mind than before. At last, I ventured to say "T thought granny would be very much surprised with your gift but she was quiet cool. Why, shedidu't even thank you either, Lonny." "Dun make no diffunce to nie. nohow," he replied, with a complacent shrug of his shoulders. Then his features assumed an expression of comical gravity and benevolence, as he added,

I know she'll be more comfort'ble. whedder she knows it or not dat's all de pay I wants." :elt rebuked, and said no more upon the subject but I thought a good many things, and one was, "that now many peo{He, in bestowing their gifts, do it more for the praise and flattery they may receive in return, than for the design of doing a real kindness to the one upon whom their gifts are bostowed.—[Merry's Museum. --Ul

Oakky Hall's Papkiu—The New York Leader, a Tammany weekly, has perished, after an existence of seventeen years. It was successively under the editorship of James H. Welch, Douglas Taylor, John Clancy, Henry Clapp, Stephen R. Fiske, Henry Morford, C. G. Hal pine, De Witt C. Van Buren, J. C. Goldsmith, and Oakey Hall. Tbe last number contained this paragraph: "There is a story connected with the Ledger office that any man who comes on the paper is sure to die. Tnereisbut one printer living who was on the paper ten years ago. when the number or dead men is considered, there seems to be some truth in the legend. When the present editor took charge of the paper, on the death of Mr. Van Buren, ne was gloomily and patronizingly told that be was a doomed man. But ed that rather hands, be would have the paper die on

veniion Feb. ventioi

Convi Feb. Cbnven]

explode, blowing

TnK daughter of the postmaster in a (own took advantage of her father's official position to collect money for the soldiers' orphans and bought bonnet with the proceeds.

he replied that he guess

ed that rather than ale on the paper'i die oi bis hands. This la the last Leader. 'Gentlemen, this is a serious joke,' said Mark Tapley. 'What's the use ot being jolly?'"

CoNVKimoMfl.—Calls for State and national political oonventicm^y&ve been issued as follows:

Jan. 17—Maine TemiMMtf* State Convention in Augusta, Jan. 24—MissouriLi' Suite Convent]

jfepubifoan on City.

Feb. (M)baarfnRMMMratic'8tate Convention Feb. 1

Labor Keform Con-

liMtonU tfemperanoe Con* CUvariNMkO. lodiaasmte Republican jin IadWBMMlto. lfisrtaif Swablican State-

Feb?

In JeAttKfe ttty. aB»i»Bipahlkian filiate Con*

June

vention

ATE

CM rimary

school word on th each child on. One da. and this Is the way a little boy ed in "I do ftot wear a chimnev, for I not a girl, for if I was a girl

have to wear a chimney."

am

1

1 would