Huntingdon Journal

              1 he  xluntin
YOL. 46.
HUNTINGDON, PA., NOYEMBER 1, 1871.
NO. 43.
lie Huntmgdon Journal.
¦\. DURKORKOV,-,       -       -       J. A. XASII,
PtrULISUKKS ANlt I'KOI'IllETOItS.
ccon the Corner vf Ilathand Washington streets.
'lir. UuNTi>:QnoN .Iournal irf jiublished every .luesdiiy, by .1. 11. Duubokkow aud A. A. Xasu, iisr tho iirm name of J. U. Dubboiirow <t Co., at >0 per annum, l.v advance, or $2,50 if not paid in six mouths from, date of subscription, and r liot paid withiu thc yoar.
'o paper diHContinued, unless at thc option of publishers, until all arrearages are paid.
IJVERTISE.MEXTS will bu inserted at Ten- its per line for eaeh ofthe first four insertions,
FIVE CENTS por liuo fur each subsequent inser- 1 less than three months.
.egular monthly and yearly advertisements will nserted at the following rates:
New Advertisements.
rpo   ADVERTISER
S:
rh
1 3m; Gm
2Tu| Too
4 00  E no
0 m
Too
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0 OOil/col
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10 00 liOOI'j "24 00
6 00 10 OOill 00,18 0015J " |34 00
8 00 UOO 20 00 21 ooj
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50 00
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peeial  notices will be inserted at twelve Axn
ALE CENTS JHT liiie, aud b.cal and editorial no-
s at FIFTEEN CENTS per line.
11 Resolutions of Associations, Communications
rnited or individual interest, and notices of Mar-
¦es and  Deaths, exceeding  five lines,  will  be
rged Tr.N cents per lino.
cgal and other notices will be chargdl  to  (he
y having them inserted.
dvcrtisin;; Agents must iind their commission
iide of theso ligures.
11 adcertisint] ttccotints are d,te antl  cdlectahle |
'I the adrertisement is once insertetl.
3C PRINTING of every kind, in Plain  and
cy Colors, done with neatness and dispatch.—
.(i-bills, Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, ic, of every
ety and style, printed at tlie shortest notiee,
every thing in thc Printing line will be oxecu-
iu the most artistic manner and at the lowest
TIIE     HUNTINGDON     JOURNAL.
V U U L I s a E D
EVERY    WEDXESDAY    IMORMXG
J. R. DURBORROW & J. A. NASII.
Office coiner of Wnshiiigtmi :.iid Rath Sts.,
HUNTINGDON, PA.
Professional Cards.
DENGATE,   Surveyor,   Warriors¬ mark, Pa. [apl2,'7I.
\     CALDWELL,  Attorncy-at-Law,
'•No. Ill, :jd street. Office formerly occupied .lessrs. Woods i Williamson. [apl2,'71.
|R.R. R. WIESTLING,
"    respectfully otiers his professional  serviees le eitizens of Uuntingdon aud vicinily. fico removed to No. OlSi Hill  street,   (Smith's :.DIN0.) [.apr.5,'71-ly.
%R. J. C. FLEMMING   respectfully
offers his professional services to the citizens untinjilon and vicinity. Office second floorof ningham's huilding, on corner of 4th and Ilill ot. may24.
|R. D. P.  MILLER, Office on  Hill
" stroot, in tho room formerly occupied by John irCullooh, liuntiugdon. Pa., would res- fully offer his professioual services to tbe citi- of Huntingdon aad vicinity. [jan.-I,'n.
|R. A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offors his
professional services to the cammunity. nee on Washington street, one door east of the .oiic Parsonage. [.inn..t,'n.
J. GREENE, Dentist.    Office re-
•    moved to Leister's new bnilding, IliU street tingdon. [jan.4,'71.
L. ROBB, Dentist, office in S. T.
•    lircwn's new building. No. 520,   /rill St.. tingdou. Pa. [apl2,'7I.
r   GLAZIER. Notary Pnhlic,  corner
L»    of ^\Tsh:ngton  and Smith   streets. Hun-
don, Pa.
[jan.12'71.
THE BEST ADVERTISING MEDIUM
CENTRAL PENNS YliV ANI A.
CIRCULATION 1700.
r    C.   MADDEN,   Attorney-at-Law
*-•    Office,  No. —, Hill  street, Huntingdon, [ap.l'J,'71.
SYLVANUS BLAHl, Attorncy-at- Law, Huntingdon, Pa.   Office, Hill street, doors west of Smith. [jan.4'71.
R. PATTON, Druggist and Apoih-
f ecary, opposite thc Exchange Hotel, Uun¬ ion, Pa. Prescriptions accurately compounded. » Lifjuors for Medicinal purposes.    [nov.2.^>,'70.
HALL MUSSER, Attorney-at-Law,
Huntingdon, I'a.     Offico,  second  floor of :r's new building. Hill street.        [jan.4,'71.
R.   DURBORROW,   Attorney-at-
• Law, Iluntingdon, Pa., will practice in the rill Courts of Huntingdon county. Particular ttion given to thc settlement of estates of dece-
ISoc in ho Journal Building.        [feb.l,'71.
HOME AND FOREIGN ADVERTISE MENTS INSERTED ON REA¬ SONABLE   TERMS.
A    FIRST     CLASS    NEWSPAl'ER
A. POLLOCK, Surveyor and Real
• Estate Agent, Iluntingdon, Pa., will attend urveying iu all its branches. AVill also -buy, or reut I'arms, Houses, and Ileal Estate of ov- kind, in any part of the United States. Send I circular. [jan.4'71.
W'.   MATTERN,   Attorney-at-Law
•    and General Claim Agent, Huntingdon, Pa., iers' claims against the Government for  back bounty, widows' and invalid pensions attcnd- 1 with great eare and promptness. Bcc on Uill street. [jan.4,'71.
"    ALLEN  LOVELL,  Attorney-at-
k-» I...1W, Huntingdon, Pa. Special nttention n to Collections of all kinds ; to tho scttle- t of Estates, Ac.: nnd all other Legal Business ecuted with lidelity and dispatch. 3~ OEce in room lately occupied by 11. Hilton ¦r, Esq. [jan.4,'7l.
'    M. k M. S.   LYTLE,  Attomeys-
•    at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa., will at* end  to ands of legal business entrusted to tiieir care. See ou the south side of Uill streot. fourth door
of Smith. [jan.4,'71.
•    A.   ORBISON,   Attorney-at-Law
V*    Office, .¦'.21 Hill stroet, Huntingdon, Pa.
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION:
62.00 per    annum    in    advance.    82 50
within six months.    $3.00 if not
paid within the year.
JOB PRINTING: ALL KINDS OF JOB AVORK DONE
WITH
NEATNESS AND DISPATCH,
AND   IX   TUE
]«ATEST   AND   MOST    IMPROVED STYLE.
COTT, BROWN &  BAILEY,   At-
torneys-at-Law, Iluntingdon, Pa.    Pensions, all claims of soldiers and soldiers' heirs against Government will bo promptly prosecuted. iTiee on Hill street. [jan.4.'71.
• "¦ ^^"-^-^ !• POSTERS OF ANY SIZE, CIBCULARS,
BUSINESS CARDS,
I   W. MYTON, Attorney-at-Law, Huu-
•    tingdon, Pn.    Office with J. Sewell Stewait, [jan.4,'71-
rriLLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney-
T at-Law, Uuntingdon, Pa. Speeial altention ^n to collections, nnd all other Ijgal business ndcd to with care and promptuess. Office Vo Uill street. [apld.Tl.
Miscellaneous.
'XCHANGE  HOTEL,   Huntino'don,
'    Pa. JOHN S. MILLER, Projirietor.
anuary 4, 1S71.
.LLISON  MILLER. n.   Dl CHANA.V
TILLER & BUCHANAN, DENTISTS,
¦o. 22S liill Street,
HUXriNGDOX, PA. prll 5, '71-ly.
/TILES   ZENTMYER,   Attorncy-at-
-*- Law, Hantingdon, Pa., will aitend promptly II legal business. Offico in Cunningham's new liing- [jan.4,'71.
TEAR THE RAILROAD DEPOT,
COR. WAYXE and JUXIATA STKEETT
UNITED STATES HOTEL,
HOLLIDAYSBURG, PA. :!LAIX ,t CO.,VnopRiETOus. Mchl.5-tf
WEDDING AND VISITING  CARDS, BALL TICKETS,
PROGRAMMES,
CONCERT TICKETS, ORDER BOOKS, SEGAR LABELS,
RECEIPTS,
LEGAL BLANKS, PHOTOGRAPHER'S CARDS, ¦ BILL HEADS,
LETTER HEADS,
PAMPHLETS, PAPER BOOKS, ETC., ETC., ETC., ETC., ETC.,
)OBT. KING, Merchant Taylor, 412
*l    Washington street, Huntingdon, Pa., a lib- 1 share of patronage respectfully solicited. ipriI12, 1S7I.
EWISTOWN BOILER WORKS.
¦^ SXY'DER, WEIDNER & CO.. Manufao- crs of Locomotive and Stationarj-Boilers,'Tanks, tes. EilUng-Barrows for Furnaces, and Sheet n Work of every description. Works ou Logan let, Lewistown, Pa.
ill orders p-?^Tnptly attended to. Repairing 16 at short noiice. [Apr 5,'71,Iy.*
Our facilities for doing all kinds of Joh Printing superior to any other CKtablish- meut in thc county. Orders by mail promptly filled. All letU;rs shoald be ad¬ dressed,
J. R. DURBOBROW & CO.
Indian Summer.
Just .ifter tlie death of tbe flowers,
And liefore tiiey are buried iu snow. There coructh a festival season
Wheu Xature is ail aglow— Aglow with a mystic splendor
That rivals thc brightness of spring— Aglow with a beauty more tender
Than aught whicli summer could bring.
Some spirit akin to thc rainbow
Then borrows its magical dyes, And manilcs thc far-spreading landscape
In hues that bewilder the ej'es ; The sun from his cloud-shadowed chamber
Smiles soft ou the vision so gay. And dreams that bis favorite children.
The flowers, have not yet passed away.
There's a luminous mist on the mountain,
\ light, azure haze in the air, .is if angels, while heavenward soaring,
Iiad left their bright robes floating there; The breeze is so soft, so caressing,
It secMis a niule token of love, And floats to the heart like a blessing
From some happy spirits above.
Thc days, so serene and so charming.
Awaken a dreamy delight— A tremulous, tearful enjoyment,
Like soft strains of music at night; We know they are fading and fleeting,
That quickly, too quickly, they'll end, And we watch them with yearning alfection,
As, at parting, we vatch a dear friend.
Oh ! beautiful Indian Summer !
Thou favorite child ofthe year, Thou darling whom Nature enriches,
With gifts and adornments so dear! How faiu would we woo thee to linger
On mountains and meadows awhile. For our hearts, like the sweet haunts of Nature,
Rejoice aad grow young in tliy smile.
Xot alone to the fields of autumn Dost thou a lost brightness restore.
But thou bringcst a world-weary spirit Sweet dreams ofits cliildhood once more ;
Thy lovliness fills us with memorieg 'Uf all that was brightest aud best—
Thy peace and serenity offer A foretaste of heavenlj' rest!
SILEI^T BILL.
I had been i'or nearly a year roaming over the A\'cst. In the course of my wan¬ derings I came upon au emigrant traiu which was just starting out from "the States," and joined it.
The novelty soon wore off and I found the days fatiguing, the nights and sleep only being desir.able. I had been conscious for days of a fever in my veins, but had scorned to complain, and taking a sort of savage delight in seeking to do au extra amount of toil. It was my turu to prepare supper for our mess, but onco ready I went oft as far as I could crawl from the noise of the camp and odor of the cooking. The last I remeuibcr of that day was my drop¬ ping down by the side of some shrubs.
Two weeks afterward I opened my eyes upon a different team from the one I start¬ ed with, and the driver was the largest, most uncouth louking man I ever saw. I was ou a .-^traw bcJ, made up ou ouc t^idc of the wagon, and in auswer to my call, the strange man bent over me. I asked all the questions I had strength for, and then waited for the answers. He told me in the fewest possible words that I was missed from the train, and he had been sent back to look for me. That I had "been dead fur two weeks, and had better keep still and go to sleep ifl could."
I obeyed, beoause I could net help it. I roceived my food and medicine from the hands of my strange looking friend, but it seemed impossible to get any information from him.
My recovery was rapid, and as soon as I made my appearance iu the camp I was warmly greeted by our company and treat¬ ed to many an extra dish by tho kind- hearted people.
I learned that I had not been missed until nearly noon ofthe day I was left, and theu they had halted, aud "Silent ijill" had volunteered to look me up, had found me, and had taken upon himself the whole care during my sickness. I oould find out very little about the man who had thus brought me back to life. He had joined the couipany, like myself, at thc last min¬ ute, had given only the one name, to whieh the boys added another, until he was called all over the camp "Silent Bill." His team was good, and he was well supplied with provisions, which he handed out gener¬ ously to any oue who had need.
With my returning strength I felt a strong interest in everything, and would gladly have been companionable and use¬ ful, but he never called on me to do any¬ thing, unless some one needed help, theu he would leave the care to me fbr a timo. lie was always ready to walk that others might ride; fatigue seemed unknown to him Foremost when danger threatened us, was hia gaunt form, and it was always his rifle whieh brought in the earliest game. It came about that he held the gratitude of almost every one in the train, but loud thanks seemed to offend him greatly.
I nevor saw him hesitate but once; then some cliildren, two litfle girls, hail boen runuing along with their mother, and she asked him to lift them up into his wagon and give them a ride, as their own team was far behind. He went up to.^hem, laid his hand upon the arm of ono, started back, rubbed his hands together, and finally called to me.
"Put them iu, will you V said he.
I lifted them up and gave eaeh a kiss as I seated them upon the straw.
He was still looking at his hands.
"What's the matter?" I asked, "bothof them together wouldn't be as heavj' as the man you bore to camp that day, only a few weeks past."
lie said nothiug, but held his hands open befijre me. They were browu and hard.    "Are they dirty ?" I asked.
''Yes," said he emphatically, and shook them out at arm's length. Then he start¬ ed up his team aud did uot speak again for hours.
All hearts became lighter as we ascend¬ ed the Sierras, and began to think of find¬ ing an abiding place.
When it came to leave-taking "Bill" was missing, the others started ou with their teams, and I staid by his until sun¬ down. Any number of good-by's and kindly messages wore left with me tor him. One woman gave me a little package say¬ ing : "He was so kind to Willie when he was sick, and his hand made that precious little grave on the mountains." I thought, to kuow thc full value of thc gift. Bill should havo received it, as I did, wet with the mother's tears.
Vi'hcn he came back, wc were alone on the hillside.
lie asked, "why didn't you go on with the others ?"
I answered, "Because I did hot choose to leave you alone, after all you have done for me.    I shall go with you. if you will
let  me,  it does not make much difference to me where."
He looked at rae keenly. "You had better not," said  he  slowly ; "you will wish you hadu't, some day."
We had started a fire, aud I could sec his face by the light of the blazo.
I felt drawn to him, not froui any .sym¬ pathy of feeling, but because I was con¬ vinced there would coiuc a time wheu I could, ia a uieasure, repay him for his kindness to me.
I reached out uiy hand, --We'll stick to¬ gether awhile, old fellow."
He wouldn't take it, but said : 'The kettle boils, we might as well eat our grub as to waste time a talking."
I gave him the messages, which were received in silence, and whon I handed the package ho only suid, '-Lay it down."
We made ready forau early start iu the moruing, then 1 rolled up in uiy blanket, aud with my feet to the tire l.iy down to sleep. When I waked up thc blaze had died dtwu, but I could sco Rill at a dis¬ tance bending over what pruved t) be a hole in the ground. After a while he broke off some greeu boughs, threw lhem in, aud then hastily threw in the earth.
He came and sat down by the fire. 1 watched him for an hour or s.i, but he never moved, and wheu I awoke in the morning, ho had not changed his position. We started off, but I made tin excuse to returu, and hurriedly opened tho grouud where I had seen him workiug iu the night. I do not know what I expected to see, but I certainly was surprised when I found, under thc earth and green bough.s, the littic package, which had been tearful¬ ly entrusted to my care.
I broke the siring and found a small copy ef "Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress."
"I will keep it," I said, "and when he needs mo most he wiil need this too."
When we reached the first miners' camp Bill waked up and was eager enough until he had scanned the face cf every man.— That day he looked weary, and it was the first time he laid down when I did fur the night.
In the niorning lu- sold liis team, all but two hor-jcs; those he packed with our blankets and provisions, aud w-e struek off dowu the canon, stopping wherever any one was at work, and goiug out of our way ifwc heard ofa solitary miner.
xVfter a while he loft off telling mo to leave him, and I think the campanionship made him feel more human. Once he stopped a week wheu I seemed tired out, but was restless aud uneasy, and declared "another day would kill him."
"Tell me," said I onc day, "why you will not rest; this life is -wearing upon you ; you cannot endure half the fatigue you could upju the piaius It'A's take up a claim aud settle dowu, or if you will go on—let me help you; couldn't i 'f"
"No," ho answered, "and I believe you are holding me back. I have felt it ever sinee I first looked upon your face when I found you half dead by those bushes that day.    I wish I had left you to die."
He sprang up and confronted me. "I will have no more ofthis; I shall go ou aloue,   aud   uou't you dare to get betweeu
me and my work or I'll	
Itis eyes fell before mine. "Do you think I am afraid of you, who wouldn't harm even an insect';' Haven't I seen you go out of 3'our way rather than tread the life out of a crawling worm ? Shail all those months of unselfish care for nothing, and your hasty words make mc leave you ? Besides," said I, "I havc a work as well as you." He looked inquiringly at me.— "Shall I tell you what it is ?"
He sat down by the fire which he had lighted.
"Keep still," s.iid ho, "for onc month more, then you may have your say."
In the morning when we started out the air was heavy with smoke. Wheu we reached San Francisco, aftor a day ct two, we found there had been an exten.sive fire. Bill was unwearied in helping build tents for the homeless, and his money went free¬ ly to feed the starving hundreds, who were likely to find only a grave in the land which had promised them so much. I felt that I had never known half of his genu¬ ine goodness of heart until those days, and I leit off watching hiiu as I had done.
We were stopping at one of the places dignified by the name "Hotel," and in thoso "early limes" coiLsidered magnificent in the way of accommodations, quite worth the fabulous prices which were demanded fur them. But our p.arlor was the bar¬ room, and our "room" a bunk, one of a dozen or so in the same apartment. We had been staying there perhaps three weeks, wheu one night I was awakened fruui a sound sleep by the fall of some hea¬ vy body, t listened, but there was no re¬ petition, then I groped my way to Bill's bunk. He was not there, though I had seen him "turn in" when I did.
I took my hat aud passed out through the bar-i-uum into the darkness an'd night. Drunken meu uf all nations and tribes were to be met on the muddy sidewalks, their horrid oaths and obscene jests, mut¬ tered or shouted in half-broken language, reminded mo ofa terrible description I had listened to -nhen a child, of the abode of the lost.
The gleaming lights frum the drinking saloons and gambling hells only added an¬ other touch to the picture.
I hurried on, peering into every place where was light or sound, and I kept up the search until the first rosy tints in the east told of the comiug day.
When I camo round to our hotel, I found I had been sent for three times, and was to remain there until the messenger came again. I waited two hours, and then saw the bar-tender pointing me out to a Spaniard. He beckoned to me, and I fol¬ lowed him without a word. We weut through lanes aud by-paths, until I lost all idea of bcality. Finally wc came to a cabin, and wheu he motioned me to come round by the tide, then he pointed me to look through a slight aperture.
Two men lay ou thc floor, which was covered with blood.
I saw at a glance that one was Bill, and the other bore the same face I had often seen in my dreams.
I thought at first that they were both dead, but a low groan came from Bill, and I rushed to tho door. I knelt down by him and spoke.
"I dii not do it," said he, "but I meant to."
I asked him no questions, only if he was able to be moved.
"Yes, but never mind." We made a litter of a door, and by thc help of some men the Spaniard brought, we carried him toour boarding place.
I suuimoneda physician who pronounced the wound dangerous, but not necessarily mortal.
I watched over him and saved hiin in spite of his own desire. He chi.)sc to die, but by my earo he came slowly baek aud took up his burden again.
One day as I sat by his bed, I took from
my pocket the littic book I had found buried under the green boughs. I read two or throe chapters aloud, then put it up without a word. Ho became interested, aud I read ou f'rom day to day, as he could bear it, until the book was finished.
Then he asked, "Where did yougetit'r" "I   dug  it from the ground," said I, la¬ conically.
He held out his hand fui- it, aud so it passed into his keeping.
AS'hen ho became stroug enough we took walks together, wiiich gi-adually increased in length uutil wo would spend whole days down by the bay.
I knew he would tell uio his stox-y when he could bring hiuiself to it. He was two weeks going over it, sometimes giving me a single picture, and at another time un¬ rolling whole years like a panorama be¬ fore me.
His first remembrance had been of a hovel where rum had left nothing butruiii. Had never heard a kind word, or had a kiss left upou his childish face, but he hated thc meauncss and filth which sur¬ rounded him, aud he ran away to sea,wheu only fourteen years cd'ngc. When he came back, gro-.vn touiauhoud, liis old home had beeu swept away by tho tide of improve¬ ments, and his relatious were all gone, save one fair-haired sister, whoiuight have been his idol, but she vanished out of his life without a word of farewell, and for years he never heard of her or the man who had lured her away.
The year that I met him, he had been through the West; ho couldn't tell what for, except that he had made money aud wanted to spend it. Vico and luxury were strangers to him, si h:s v,-anfs were few and simple.
He came to a cabin, one night, and as it was late, asked to stay; tho man con¬ sented, and bade the woman provide some supper for the traveler.
His host went out, aud his voice could be heard at some distance from the front of the house. Tho woman eyed him closely from a window, then motioning to Rill, led him to a slide window at the rear of the C;ibin, v,-hispere;l to him that'twas only a mile to the next house, slipped a piece of paper into his hand, aud bade him run for his life.
He said he could not tell how it hap¬ pened, but fjr fhe first and only tima he rau from danger. Ho aroused tho people and Was giveu a place on the floor to sleep.
Saying nothing about his adventure, he managed to read by the light of the coals the paper which the woman had given him. Imagine his surprise when he found that ho had seen his long-lost sister, and that she had to save his life by getting him away from her husband, who mistrust¬ ed that he had money, and would not hesi¬ tate to murder him in order to obtain it. She said she had witnessed dreadful things, but begged him not to fry to meet her, as his life would be imperiled.
The next morning he determined to return and have an interview with her, ana if jiossible persuade her to accompany him.
Tlie liouse was closed, boards nailed np before tho windows, and no sigu of life upon the premises.
He luuked for his horse; that, of course, was gone, aud he was about leaving, when ho heard moans. Agaiu he listened, aud traced the sound to the window out of which he had escaped the previous uight. He wrenched off the boards and soon found the sister he sought, but she was in a dying condition. She had been terribly bcHtcn by the brutal husband ; upon her had come the full brunt of his disappoint¬ ment when ho discovered his victim had left. She told of terrible sufferings and crime, but death hastily closed her recital, and poor Bill held a lifeless form iu his arms. He called iu the only neighbors, within several miles, the people where he stayed over nighl. Together they buried tho bruised and mangled body, aud over the grave the brother vowed to revenge the life which had beeu sacrificed for him. He heard of "his man" crossing the plains, and so had followed, nursing all the time the deepest hatred in his heart, novor doubting that he should find him, aud then the end was plain.
Ho held up his hands. "I have seen his blood upuii them all the way," said he. "That night," he coutinued, "I could not sleep, and something wbLspored that ho was not far from me. So I T>'ent out aud continued my search. I heard his voice on the street. I should have known it anywhere. I followed him to his cabin and entered closo behind him. I had something to say to him, and you know I couldn't shoot him dowu without giving him a chance; 'tv.-ant in me to do that.
'-But he turned u;i. ii ma quicker than thought aud gave me this shot through my shoulder. My right arm dropped power¬ less, but I sprang upon him, and as we closed he gave me a stab in my side, his own pistol, pointed towards himself, went ofi', either by accident or design I shall nevor know which, and we fell together on tho floor.
"That Spaniard came in, attracted by¬ the tiring. I had helped his family to food and shelter, so I easily prevailed upon him to go far you, not because I thought you could do anything f'or me, but I did not want you to speud your time hunting me up.
"Tho wretch died; although I didn't kill him, I meant to, so 1 am a murderer to you. 3Iy work ou earth is done, and you had better leave now. I am afraid I shall get to care for you if you stay, and that would be foolish, as there hasn't been any love iu my life, I shan't troublo you ¦with any more talk. I guess I have lost my right uow to the title the boys gave me."
As soon as he was able, we went back iuto the country aud pitched our teut among the grand old trees. Tiiere came days when the hashed stillness brought thoughts of rest, peaco and almost believ¬ ing.
l'nder the branches w-hero the stray sunbeams touched us with light and heal¬ ing, I told the story of Him whose blood can wash the deepest stain from human hearts and hands, and into nature's temple canio the great, invisible, loving presence which stands human as ever, though un¬ seen—in our very midst, and whose coming into any life will lift it from its mire and defilement, into thc lost Paradise which lies about us everywhere.
As I dwelt upoa the wondrous love and compassion, he asked earnestly, "Why has my life been so dark and loveless ?"
All, how many achiugheartshave askod that, as they look back over dwarfed, thwarted lives.
But there came a time when his ques¬ tionings cea.sed, and he changed his life¬ long burden for a cros.s.
And for years, "Silent Bill" was known all through the mines and camps as "The Big Elder."
Best Parlors.
Almost every Americau house possesses one of these dreadful altars, erected to what uuknown goddess it is impussible to guess. It is a Bogy, before whom from time to time people burn gas in chandeliers of fearful design;—to whom are dedicated fhigrant carpets, impossible oil paintings, furniture tuo gorgeous for common days, and shrouded therefrom by customary Hol¬ land. Mu.sty smells belong to this Deity, stiffness, angles, absence of sunlight. The visitor, entering, sees written above thc portal: "Who enters here abandons—con¬ versation." What is there to talk about in a room dark as the Domdaniel, except where ouc crack iu a reluctant shutter re¬ veals a staud uf wax flowers under glass, and a dimly deseribed hostess, who evi¬ dently waits only your departure to extin¬ guish that Solitary ray. 'J'lie voice instinct¬ ively hushes; the mind finds itself barren of ideas. A few dreary common-place re¬ marks are exchanged, tlicn a rise, a rustle, the door is gained aud the light of the blessed sun; you glance up in passing— flap goes the blind, inner darkness is again resumed. Bogy has it all his own way, and you thank your stars that you have doue your duty by the Browns for at least a twelve-month!
And yet, upon this dismal apartment, which she hates, and all her acquaintances hate, poor Mrs. Brown has lavished time and money enough to make two rooms charming. For ugly things cost as much as pretty ones—often more. And costly ugliness is, as Mrs. Rrown would tell you, a "groat responsibility to take care of."— What with the carpet w-hich mustn't get faded, the mirrors which mustn't get fly- specked, the gilding which mustn't be tarnished, thoro is nothing for it but to shut thc room up to darkness and all dull influences. And as families are like flics, and wiil follow the sun, tho domestic life comos to be led anywhere rather than iu the best parhir, aud the -'taboo" w-hich iMrs. Brown proclaim^ is easily enforced.
And yet this Mrs. Brown is quick to recognize the dift'ereuc-o when in other people's homes she is shown a cosy and pleasant room. She sits on a chintz sofa in her velvet and ermine, and glances half enviously at the tinted walls hung with photographs, at tho sparkling littic fire in the grate, the -ivindows gay with sun and green things, the book-cases and tables leadened with volumes. "How I admire an open fire," she says. "But doesn't it make a great deal of dust ? And your plants, too—I cau't think how you make them grow so well in a, parlor."
¦ "A little water and pleuty of sun is all thc secret," she is told.
'•Oh, but how dreadfully faded your carpet must get," she goes on. '-Such quantities of books, too. Well, I should like to have such things !"
It dues not occur to the good ladythat for the price of oue of those useless mirrors which cost her such anxiety and rnhhino with ehamois-skin, a choice company of poets, philosophers and sages could be won to sit forever at her side, informing her with thoir wisdom. Or that for a tithe of the same her fireless grate would sparkle with cannel coal for a winter long. Her furniture, her carpets, the dullness of her home, aro encumbrances truly, but encum¬ brances which she bears willingly and would not be w-ithout.
And people having tho right to live pretty much as they please, so long as they violate no law of the land, it wouid matter little, except that there are so mauy Browns and so many best parlors, that society is seriously afiected thereby. For a system which necessitates great aud troublesome changes in family arrangement whenever a guest comes, tends to narrowuess aud inhospitalify. If the covers mu.st be taken off the furniture, the plated spoons go up stairs aud the silver ones come down, the best china bo lifted from a top shelf, upon the arrival of each friend, bo sure that friend will seldom arrive. Only when what Mrs. Stowe calls "a good liberal average" is established as a rule over all houses, will hearty interchange of social courtesies begin, and the communion of friends, face to face, be regarded as a pleas¬ ure rather than a toil.
To those of us who have been tasting the summer iu the sw-ecl. breadth and freedom of tho country, our homes will seem dull and straitened enough as we re¬ enter them. Now is the time, befoie old habitual scales blind our eyes, to look about with aunointed vision, and see how these homes cau be brightened and broad¬ ened—made more like that lovely out-door home to which nature welcomes each no'.v- coiiicr. Above all, let us cast out the "Bost Parlor." To the sacred enclosure once called by that name, let us bring our daintier tasksof letter-writing, needle-work, study. Let the walls be .beautified with every simpio ornament withiu our reach— the windows opened tu receive the sun, and vines and roses set to catch its sun¬ ning. And over the dnor once sacred to '¦Bogy" iet us write "Welcome." Aud so thc last shadow of the Bogy w-ill depart, and our homes bo homes indeed,
'¦Fi-oiu turret to foundation stoue." —tSrribnr7^'s Monthly for October.
Finger Marks.
A gentleman cmpioyed a mason to do some work fbr him, and among other things, to "thin whiten" the wall of one of his chambers. This thin whitening is almost colorless until dried. The gentle¬ man was much surprised on the morning after the chamber was finished to find on thc drav.-ers of his'bareau standing iu the room, whito fingers. Opening the drawer, he found the same on the articles in it, and also uu a pjckot-book. Au examiua¬ tion revealed the same marks on the con- t-nts of a bag. This proved clearly that the mason, with his wet hands, had opened the drawer and searched the bag, which contained no money, and had then closed the drawer without once thiuking that any onc would ever know it.
The -'thin whitening," which happened to be on his hands, did not show at first, and he probably had no idea that twelve hours' drying would reveal his wickedness. Children, beware of evil thoughts und deeds ; they all leave their finger marls, which will ono day be revealed. If you disobey your parents, or tell a falsehood, or take what is uot your own, you make bad stains on your character. Aud so it is with all sin. It defiles the soul. It betrays those who engage in it, by thc marks it makes ou them. 'These marks may be almost if not quite invisible at tirst. But even if they should not be seen during any ofyour daya on earth, (which is not at all likely), yet there is a day coming in which every sin will be manifest.—Home Journal.
The Diplomatic Scandal.
Mailame Cataeazy a Persecuted Winnaii— Welcomed in the White House, and then '•Cut Dead'—Lore, Romance, Fidelity.
So much has been .said at W'ashington, and so much will be said at St. Petersburg, before the Fish-Catacazy, or more pr;iperly, 3Irs. Fish-Madame Cataeazy muddle will be straightened out that a correspondent gives the following to the public as the inside facts of the great diplomatic imbrog¬ lio. Mrs. Fish, the wiie ofour Wash¬ ingtou Premier, threw down the gauntlet to Madame Cataeazy one yoar ago in Wash¬ ington. At this time Jladame Cataeazy received a social titab which threw the Russian Minister on the defensive, and made too wide tho breach in the diplomatic corps fo be ever closed cv even friendly relations to again return.
Last November Mrs. Fish gave her grand diplomatic dinner. Every forr^ign Ambassador aud luinitter, with their li¬ dies, was invited for the dinner was given to tho honor of the Joint High Commis¬ sion. Mrs. Cataeazy aloue was uninvited. The omission fell like a bombshell iu tht Republicin court at Washington. "Why didu't you ask Jladame Cataeazy':"' every¬ one asked of Mrs. Fish. '-What is thc malter ? " Mrs. Fish looked ominous, the old secc.rsion families of the West End, those parasital relics ofan ancient regular army aristocracy, were rc.'idy tohurl their darts of calumny at Madame Cataeazy ; but the dreadful secret was kept closo shut up in the bi'soms uf a few of thc diplomatic and old f.iuilly aristocracy. Sometimes some go.?siping woman would about whisper Bladensburg—an Italian Count, but the for¬ eign legations generally maintained their frieudly relations with the beautiful wife ofthe Russian ministor.
A SAD STOKV.
rdadamo Cataeazy is a Freneh lady—he- name was Berwick. Eighteen years ago while she was in her feons, she was tbo most beautiful child-woman in all France, iler father aud mother were titled people, aud tho Berwick bluod is the best iu Eu¬ rope. At this tender age sho ivas thruwn into the company of an Italian Count— Count F . Ho was a handsome, dash¬ ing man of the world, knew all its wiles and snares, I'ud could assume thc face and tone ofan augel.
Count F wou the love of this beauti¬ ful, innocent child. Mile. Berwick, mar¬ ried her and took hor to Rome to live. They lived happily for awhile, v.hen he became dissipated, gambled and became a bad man generally, treated his ivife, first with indifi'erance, then neglect, theu with positive cruelty. Colonel Baria, the Italian Charge d'Aflaires, a year or so ago, knew the character of this bad Italian and fre¬ quently said, "He was a countryman of miue, but he was a vei'y bad man, and I do not blame Madame Cataeazy when she did ruu away from him."
SHE -MESr.S JIK. C.i.T.iC.A..'5V.
In Rome, eighteen years ago, 3Ir. Cata¬ eazy ssw the abufieijvife-^thiiu una of the most heauliful women of the Italian capi¬ tal, lie felt a sympathy for her. After¬ wards they met in Paris, when she, tired and sick ofthe bad Count, her husband, had abandoned him and sought shelter un¬ der her father's roof Mr. Cataeazy v/as appointed by the Russian governnient as Secretary of Legation to Wasliington un¬ der Minister Bodisco. Before ho came to this country a strong attachment sprang up betweeu him and thc unhappy countess. Their fondness ripened into love—warm, confiding and pure. From the French and especially the Russian stand point, where almost evory Minister, and eveu the Czar himself supports plurality of households, thc action of the young Secretary and the countess  ivould never be questioned.
TIIEY C'AJIE TO A:MEI!IC'A.
When the time came forMr. Cataeazy to join Bodisco, hor poor lover was de.;olate. What w-as to be doue ? She cuuld not live with her hu.sband, aud she had no divorce. To stay was living death. She could uot break tho intermittent visits and abuso of her husband, whom she despised. The western sky looked full of happiness, for there she cuuld fly from every rumor aud be happy with one whom she loved more than her life. So they were married and came to America. This marriage was uot strictly legal, fbr she was not divorced from her first husband; but it was a moral marriage, and never has a doubtful rumor ever clouded the mural sky uf that s.icred covenant with 3Ir. Cataeazy.
They arrived in this country as ?dr. and Mrs. Cataeazy. After staying awhile in New York, Mr. Cataeazy went ou to Wash¬ ington, taking with him Jlrs. Cataeazy. The young Secretary rented for his beau¬ tiful coiupaniun a pretty cottage in Bla¬ densburg. eight miles from Vv'ashington, where ho spent most ofhis time—he with wild, loose notions of a profligate Russian count, and she simply confiding in the only man she ever loved—and the only mau, she thought, who cuuld daro to call her his wife.
RETIIKX   TO   RUSSIA.
ICight years age Jlr. Cataeazy returued to Russia. Thoy were both received at the Russian Court; feted by the nobility, and thc little spot whieh had caused them so much uneasiness -was forgotteu iu their mutual happiness aud prosperity, 'i'he Czarina of Russia is a tall, graceful woman, like the Queeu of Denmark, terribly de¬ voted to the Greek Church, and very little attention to societj-. Viutr it is true that she, with all her orthodox scruples, re¬ ceived Jladame Cataeazy.
BACK   TO   WA.S1II.N'GT0.V   AS    MINISIEH.
In iS(i3 Jir. Constantino do Cataeazy was appointed by Czar- Alexander as Envy Extraordinary and Jlinister i'lenipolentia¬ ry lo the United States. Accompaiucd by his wife, he arrived ou thc ^'ille de Paris, and proceeded .it onee to V/ashington, re¬ lieving Baron Stoekl. He was received everywhere in official circles with great friendship, his. beautiful wife sharing in all thc honors of hor husband. I myself have seen them together at i'resident Johnson's and also at  Secretary Seward's.
UECEIVED   I.v   NEW    YORK.
Jlrs. James Brooks threw New York so¬ ciety into a excitement by giving Madame Cataeazy a reception at her-beautifnl resi¬ deneo on-Fifth avenue, near Thirty-fburth street, last autumn. Here she was greeted by the best blood of the metropolis. Jlrs. Judgo Roosevelt, who had been presented to the Court of St. James, with Lady Ous- ley, wero there, and thoy vied with Jlrs. Roberts, Mrs.Blodgett, Jlrs. Stevens, Jlrs. Whitney, Jlrs. Vander'oilt, and Jlrs. Stew¬ art, in polite welcoming and benedictions to the fair representative of the nation w-hich stood by the (iovernment during a terrible war, and carried oui' beloved Far- sagut in her arms from St. Petersburg to JIoscow—drinking the health ofour saved Republic in every town in Russia. Mrs. (iioulager, tho gifted singer of St. Thomas'
Chnrch, sang a song of welcome to hev, and the fair face of the Embassador's wife was too happy for utterance.
Madame Cataeazy's beauty was the theme of newspaper writers, and the gossip of the West End. Her parlors on Franklin Square were thronged on reception days with West aristocratic residents and so¬ journers of the Capital. They had been in Washington but a few days, when they rode uver to Bladensburg to see the beaati¬ ful vine-clad cottage, whero years before she had spent so many happy hours Every nook was examined, and as the enthusiastic wife recollected the hours of love and confidence she had spent there, she said she would be happy indeed to live there again. Plucking a boquet from the littic yard, as boautiful to her as Claud's Alpine home, she rode back to Washing¬ ton ; but not before old Bladensburg Mrs. Grundy had recognized the old sweetheart love of the Russian Secretary. She re¬ ported the ,'act to thc quid-nunce of Wash¬ ington.
SOCIAL DESTRUCTION   MEDITATED.
The hereditary Washington gossips now set to work—those ancient female military and naval barnacles who live in West End boarding houses, wear long black dresses, and subsist on gossip about what Miss Lane and Jlr. Buchanau used to do. They talk about Captain JlcCellan and Colonel Lee, and only aspire to marry daughters to higher titles than Lieutenants and Cap¬ tains in tho army. They don't know that Captains and Lieutenants ever get above Blocker street in the exclusive society of the metropolis. W^ell, this set, who flutter around the Carrolls, and Riggses and Cor¬ corans, begin to breathe milder upon the fiiir fame of the beautiful wife of the Ru.s- sian Jlinister.
Jlrs. Grant aud Jlrs. Fish, who had re¬ ceived more than once, and who had more than once been the recipient of her warm Russian courtesy, were takeu in tow. "It is dreadful I!" said one. '-Perfectly horri¬ ble '." exclaimed another, with her hands out lide a great V. "You ought not to re¬ eeive her," said all these female West End lucifers at once. "It's an iusult to send her here." As if she who had been hon¬ ored at the Russian Court—she who had bceu kissed in tho Imperial white room of St. Georgo by tho Czarina and Dagmar and Gand Duke Constantine, could soil the characters ofa fe-w gossiping Washington West Enders, who become self-appointed b.jarding-houso guardians of the national honor. Yes, women were at the bottom of it, just as they have boen at the bottom of more than one White House squabble from Jlrs. Eaton down to Kate Sprague and Jlrs. Lincoln.
THE     WEST    E>'D    ANGELS    ACCOMPLISH THEIR   WORK.
The gossip carried the day, and at the dinner given to the "High Joint Commis¬ sion," Jlrs. Fish opened the barrel of powder which may yet blow up a war be¬ tween Russia and America. JIr. Cataea¬ zy is an excitable man, and when his wife was "cut" thus publicly, what wondcrthat
K»*I<'w-mfn irpiieciofi und ctillcj   l't?l\   -iSii
old sardine, and swore by the big bell in Kremlin that Fish and Jlrs. Fish, and everybody in Washington, could be bought up like a load of cucumbers in the JIoscow superaboskney 'i Jladame Cataeazy has simply played the role of Jlrs. A. D. Rich¬ ardson. She comes from a profligate court, ghc comes from where both the Russian and Freneh traditions are loose on thc subject of divorce and marriage, and from where many women think they are saints if they are true to oue man, married or not. In Russia I have often been in¬ vited to dine with, perhaps, a member of the nobility, wheu I would have to ask the question at which house, for the man kept two houses.
Now that we have got into the diplo¬ matic muddle, it will be hard to get out. But, whatever transpires, reaiember Ma¬ dame Cataeazy is a beautiful woman ; no¬ body qucsti IUS her purity, and nobody doubts thc mutual devotion, the absolute worship of love which exists between the Russian Jlinister and hLs wife.
Grace Greenwood, writing from Den¬ ver, says : ''Nature did antelopes an ill- turn originally, in affixing to them a mark by which they can be seen and 'a bead drawn on them' at a great distance. It renders them especially liable to attacks in the rear, which reminds me ofa little story. A small Colorado boy, who had been out playing, rau into the house in a state of great excitement, saying that he had seen somo antelopes in the gulch near by. At his entreaty his mother went out to look at them, but nolhing of the kind was to be found. She became incredulous, and said at last, -I dou't believe you saw any antelopes ; it muitt have been your imagi¬ nation, my child!' To this the little moun¬ taineer indignantly responded : 'Humph ! I guess my imagination isn't white be¬ hind.'
Miscellaneous News Items.
Jlemphis, Tenn., is to have a .skating rink.
The Savannah, (Ga.) Republican is for sale.
JIaeon, Ga., has sixteen railroad trains a day.
Jackson. Miss., has five thousand inhab¬ itants.
Kenosah claims to be the wickedest town.
Gen. Wattle, the Cherokee chief, is dead.
Kiug Atnadeus is suppressing news-pa¬ pers.
The population of Texas is increasing rapidly.
The Jlilwaukee papers are served by pretty girls.
Archbishop Spanlding is in very bad health.
The tobacco in North Carolina h.ts been injured by frost.
The cotton caterpillar has done much damage in Alabama.
Rain wanted in tho neighborhood of Kansas City, JIo.
A Wisconsin blacksmith is a last heir to that inillion dollars.
The mo.squito crop iu the South has been immense.
The small-pox i^ raging violently at Chil¬ licothe, Ohio.
The Texas cattle disea.se has appeared at Wooster, Ohio.
The ^'irginia Stato fair begins at Rich¬ mond on the Slst inst.
A Frencjijuan has made a lamp wick that will burn five years.
A Jlissouri farmer struek a ten foot vein of coal while digging a well.