Lancaster Examiner and Herald

              VOLXUV.
LANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY, JUNE 29. 1870.
EXABIOnER &  HJERAX1>-
PUBLISHED EVEEY WEDHE3DAY, At BO. 6 ITortli dueon Street, lancaBier, pa.
TERMS-82.00 A TEAB Ui ADVAWCE.
JOHN A. HIE3TAXD ATE. M. KLINE. Eaitora and ProprletorB.
THE LOSS OF THE ONEIDA; on. YOKOHAMA'S BAY.
Aliove the wind anrt waves or Ocean's distant caves,
A spirit soems lo say: " Here sleeps tho Oneida's deatl, Within Ihf ir watery bed
Of Yokohama's Bay;
" And ever o'er their graves Shall moan the dashing waves,
Tliat. ceaseless, will not slay To heed th' ImpIorinR hands ITpUned from the winds
or YoUohama.s Bay." All hearts and lioycs heat high, 2»o bosom heaved a sigh,
As on that fatal day Th" Ontida homeward stecrort, And fnnn tho land sho veered
or Yokohama's Bay.
Sweet thoughts of native land, AVhen they should press th« hand
Of kindred lar away. Where joys their bosoms bore. As they parted from the shore
Of Yokohama's Bay.
Alas! the fiUnre hides, In her mysletious tides.
The fate of men alway: Here many sailed the deep. Unconscious of death's sleep
In Yokohama's Bay.
'Twas barely dark as yet. The signal lijihus were set
When sat the snitset's ray: Below, bright comforU glowed, Hilarions spirits flr)\red
lu Yokohama's Bay.
Ihit soon therfi comes a shook!— A irembllng, foarrul knock ;—
Then all wlthln's dismay! Thi^y look: her qoarter's gone! A Demon Ship glides on
UpY'okohama's Bay!
They hall her: vain the cr>', Tho whistle's note on high.
The signal-gun's fierce ray! She speeds—remorseless thing I— As 'iwcro with hell's <iark wlnn.
Up Yotohnmn's Bay!
Klghtscorc and sixteen men Are left to battle then
With all the wild waves' play: But two small boats to save A third from out the gravo
Of Yokohama's Bay.
Fivescore flflecn go down. And those wlio do not drown.
Threescore nnd one aro they: These live lo tell the tale. Those mourns the sighing gale
Up Yokohama's Bay.
In duty's sternest hour. When dangers darkly lower.
Forget tlie hmvest mny What si 111 to life they owe: With Williams it u-as so
In Yokahama'd Bay.
And with lilm sank to rest- To whom In memory blest
The tribute tear we pay— Full many a noble soul. O'er whom the waters roll
Of Yokohama's Bay,
Perfldlons Albion, thon! How oft npon thy hrow.
Since Columbia's natal day, Tliou'st worn the branded name ! And now ngaln the shame
Of Y'okolmma's Bay?
Tiiy Briit.ll Captain Eyre, Of deed so dark nnd dire.
The world nf him wilt say; " His curse sliall ever he The Khameless infainv Of Y'okohama's Ilay." -Lippini'utt's Magazine.
THE FOW^S FAEM.
Johu JrosfT-ir was.1 we.iUIiy farmer, with some few Inimlreil acres ol" land, h.ilf of whieh wns fertile and well tillcil, and the other half a range of rooky upland, from which nature drew forth nothingsavescanty,almostworth- les!S weeds. The better half of the farm was well stocked and well order¬ ed ; the farmhouse was the hest in the village of Dalefoid, and tbe outbnilil- iucs were tho envy of tlie neighbors.
John Siosgar had a knave brother and a foolish son—his only relatives. Ilobert, the brother, by a just dispensa¬ tion of rrovidenee, was a man of com¬ parative indigence, but liis brother John overlooked his faults and saw only his poverty and relationship, and when dying he called Uobert to his bedside, and, placing the hand of his son Daniel iu his, adjured him to pro¬ tect the imbecile for his father's sake.
The fool smiled, and the knave smil¬ ed, too; the one tickled atthe idea of having a uew friend, and the other at Iiaving a new victim, easily plucked .and ruined.
"I will see after liiin, John," said Hobert, with a look of .assumed afTee¬ tion for his nephew. "I will provea father to him wheu you are goue, aud I will turn the farm to the best possi¬ ble account, that your spirit, if it still hover about the earth, may be pleased with what I shall do."
" Enough, Eobert, adieu. AVe shall meet again in heaven. Farewell, my hrain-wrecked son!" gasped the dying mau.
" Good bye, fiither," grinned Daniel, twisting h'is body awkwardly about. " Hope you'll have a pleasant journey —he, he!"
John Mosgar died, and LawyerTwist- well's assistance was called in to settle the affair. It had been the expressed ¦will of Mr. Jfosgar that his estate should be equally divideil between his son and his brother. " Half to one and half to the other," were his words, tliough the wisdom which prompted them was not equal to that of King Solomon.
Lawyer Twistwell, at the instigation of Robert Mosgar, made a cruel con¬ struction of the will, and awarded the better half, all fertile and arable land, to the uncle; whi le the meaner portion .con¬ sisting of meagre woodland and rocks, fell to the share of poor Daniel.
The more hertless and unprincipled of the neighbors laughed at the fool when they heard of the award, and congratulated him upon receiving so rauch "gond upland." He, too, was well pleased, and capered about, sing¬ ing mad songs, to find himself master of so much land. He thought his the better portion .and boundedoveritwith boisterous glee; climbing the frees, tearing up and hurling the rocks abont, plucking lip the hushes, leaping down declivities, and drinking of the stream as if he would convince each inani¬ mate object that he was their sole lord and proprietor.
The rough lyaste that had been he- slowed upon tho witless, friendless <^iealure, tlirough the crafty connivance of the lawver, Twistwell, suited the fool's taste to a charm; for thero he could wander in undisturbed .solitude, in idiot "meditation, fancy free," un- ..¦onsi-ious of the wealth of whicli he had been robbad hy bis nncle. One little hut alone stood on it, and that served for his home; and his hodily wants were supplied hy such of the neighbors .is obtained tbeir fuel from his "farm."
"The Lord will never prosper him who steals his treasure from a fool," said oue of these neighbors to her hus¬ band.
He shrugged his .shoulders with a "humph!" for he was conscious of having repeatedly drawn more wood than he bargained for from tlie "fool's fnrm," and was unwilling to believe in Ifeaven's auger throat.
"Heaven help those who help them¬ selves," he dryly replieil, casting his eye out at the mammoth pile of brush¬ wood, for whicii he had paid but a tri¬ lle in barter.
His wife had seemed to understand the look, bnt she sighed as she poked the lire on the hearth.
"PoorDaniel!" she exclaimed; "I hope he will never suffer from cold or hunger; but he .seems to be in a fair way for it, with his uncle ou one side and a sellish world on the otlier. His half was little enough as itwas, and all that IS good upon it is fast dwindling away. What will ho do when thS wood IS all gone?''
" We had better be thinking of our own circumstances," said the husband snaijpisbly, "tind let the town take eare of the fools. As for Daniel, no doubt he is liappier now than many wise people."
"Happier than his uncle, I'll be bound," said the woman, "well off iu worldly goods though he be. Old JIos- gar always looks distressed—suspicious and timid—asif he thoughtall thenelgh- hors despised him for taking advantage of his nephew. And so they do. And though everything looks well for him in a worldly way, there will come some change, yet, depend upon it.
Perhaps so, and perhaps not," re¬ plied the husband indiirerently. " But get the pudding ready at any rate, for I'm m a hurry to be off "
So they smothered their sympathy with pudding and forgot the fool.
Some one talked with Daniel about his farm and found him satisfied
"What will I do with my rocks?" said he with a vacant, self-satisfied smile. "Pile'em up. Make walla and forts. They will last longer than wood and never burn up."
"But yoa have got no cattle, Daniel, nor crops."
"I couldn't tako caro of thero, if I had. I can get meal and milk to eat, and I dou't want to work. I want to play with thechildron, and walk about. Uncle Eobert can't do it. I am much better off than he is."
"Your wood will be all gone soon. Iben-what will you do? You've got no money."
"It will be lime enough for rae then to pull up my rocks nnd plant seed," said he, looking wise. "And I'U do it all myself, so that the seed will know me when it comes up, and bow to rae iu the morning, when I walk in the morning, in the fields. O, I don't care for anything or anybody, with my farm!" he chuckled, tliuging himself upou .the ground, and turning somer¬ sets in historn clothes. "Ha! ha! ha! But I'm not proud," he added, rising and lookinggrave. "That's the reason I lay with the dogs; and the boys and the geese laugh when I roll in the straw."
The idiot seemed so contented that none cared long to dwell upon thegreat wrong he had suffered; and so his Un¬ cle Kobert was left in undisturbed pos¬ session of what he had fraudulently acquired. Pity for the friendie.ss fool was not deep enough to arouse opposi¬ tion against the influential uncle.
But it was not long before Daniel's wood was thoroughly swept away, leav¬ ing him but the barren surface of the rocks on which to rest liis hopes of support; aud now hunger compelled him to beg at the doors of his neigh¬ bors, for his uncle forbade him to cross his llireshold—averse to the preseuceof such a standing reproach to his iniquity, aud thinking lo drive him upon tlie pauper maintenance of the town.
Alas! the lord of the house wasa pit¬ iable sight to see, as he Avandered, half naked, from door to door in dalefoid, ollering shares in his rocks for bread, and with no more of those vacaut smiles which had shown his elation in his time of imaginary wealth. Dis¬ tress hatl uow joined iiauds with idiocy, aud thedreain of comfort had vanished from the fool's brain. The haggard skeleton, iu his life of chance, found casual sustenance enough to keep his soul with his body still; but that ghast¬ ly aspectof human life was more mock¬ ing thau even his sterile apology for a farm. Blow and sad Avas tho step of the sauntering scarecrow through the town—the melancholy cynosure of the pointing fingers, the desolate victim of shttmeless relationsiiip and a shattered brain. Alas for the spectral lauded proiirielor! Had Heaven's all embra¬ cing glauee no ray to guide his listless feet?
One day, as instinct sent him beg¬ ging, after dinner time, lor the dismal miscellany of his daily food, a summer storm darkened the earth, and peal.-i of thunder started all animated things. Tbe flowers bowed in terror and the in¬ visible milliners who deck lbe bounets of nature flew to their most secret haunts. But the fiiol stalked abroad in the pelting rain, and lifted his black lustre eyes lo thfc furious source of the tempest, half amazed, half delighted, at the interniiilent flics.
Suddenly a shriek was iieard along the road ; and, looking backward, he saw u]ioii a frighlened horse ayoung maiden of the village, clinging to the mane of the galloping animal, which, snorting wilh alarm, approached him. Daniel Jlosgar was .a fool—but he was a man. A wise one might have stepped aside iu fear, but Daniel .seized a broken bough by the wayside, and brandishing the huge weapon fur a mo¬ ment darted into the middle of the road; and, as the wild careering steed came thuudering on with his insensi¬ ble burden, with a well ilirected force the limb was brought in eoulact wilh the horse's head. The concussion was tremendous, and the animal, panting and quivering with swelled veins, fell heavily to the ground.
Happily for the girl, who.=e hold was upon his mane, slie was hanging ujion the opposite side to that on which he fell; and before the half stunned ani¬ mal could struggle to his feet again, the idiot, inspired by the emergency, sprang forward and pulled the maiden from her perilous position. The shouts of approaching meu, oueof whom was her father, now attracted his attention, aud in a few moments thegirl, still un¬ conscious, was in her parent's arms.
" Well doue, Daniel! Ood bless you for saving my daughter's life!" was the grateful e.xclamaliou ofMr. Koiitley, as the party, bearing lbe girl aud leading the uow passive horse, proceeded to his house, uear by. " You have done tliat which I shall uever forget, and I will do what I can to repay, pour fellow—but he does not understand me," added the father, shaking his head, as the fool, unheeding, followed them, brandishing the huge branch with which he felled the horse, and smiling at it. " SVhat agents the Almighty sometimes chooses forhis works!"continuedFoutley. "A fool has beeu the means of saving my only child from a.ride to a bloody grave!"
Helen Foutley was but fifteen ou that day of her gre.at danger, aud was re¬ turning home from a customary jauut when overtaken by the storm. The father was wealthy and centered in her all his most cherished hopes. The lie- roic deed of Daniel atJected Fontley deeply, and filled him with aclive com¬ passion for the youug man. He resol¬ ved to be his friend and he was .so. Outof the mouth of the thunder fol¬ lowed blessings for the fool. With the liassage of the clouds on that day came sun upon the soul of his fortunes.
Having inquired after his aflairs, on the next day Mr. Foutley rode over to the "fool's farm," and made a brief survey of it—Daniel and a few others accompanying him.
"What do you think ofthe division of the property ?" was the question of oue.   " Was it nol cruel?"
" Daniel come to my house. Cruel? Xo!" replied Mr. Foutley, hia face brightening up with a meaning smile, as they left the sterile uplands. "Beh¬ est Mosgar did a greater favor to his nephew by the division than his ignor¬ auce iutended, if I am not much inis- takeued. But we will see, soon, howit turns out."
From that dayD.aniel was amiily pro¬ vided for in the house of Mr. Foutley. and meanwhile the secret of the latter's words became revealed. Tlie "fool's farm" proved rich in coal. The experi¬ enced eye of Fontley had detected, in the course of his visits to it, indications which had escaped the notice ofall oth¬ ers, and which subsequent prospecting proved true. Tliosebarren undulations of soil contained a mighty mine of coal, and the wealth of the grateful aud de¬ lighted Fontley developed the black treosurc for the benefit of Daniel.
Kumerous workmen were soou em¬ ployed upou the before deridoil waste, and Daleford iu a few years derived its chief imporlance from Ihesefields. Cap¬ ital and enterprise were attracted to the towu, and hundreds of nnnilies were supported by labor in the mineral " bowels ofthe hannlesaearlh,"aud the star of the fool rose suddenly up iu the sky of benefaction. Fontley, hispatron aud self-appointed .agent.'was true to his grateful instincts and his important trust, and Daniel Mosgar became the possessor of untold wealth.
As if Heaven's rebuke were desigued to be immediately manifest, the strata did not exteud into the laud of Ilobert Mosgar, aud he saw with double morti¬ flcation the contrasted wealth of the nephew he had dispoiled. Between his efforts to purchase any part of the " fool's farm," or all of it, at any price, stood the sagacious, v.'atchful and hon¬ est Foutley; aud of what pitying Prov¬ idence had held in ni,ysterioU3 reserve for the day of the idiot's destitutiou, the miud and the heart of Fontley became the guard.
Nor was this all the fortune of Ibefool. In his youth he had been " bright," as the saying is; but a disease ofthe brain had settled there, converting it to idio¬ cy. Years of full darkness had left no hope for a revelation of reason, but now the reign of folly had expired. The sudden change iu his lot threw Daniel into a state of feverish exultation, whicli resulted in severe sickuess, from which skillful treatment raised him gradually to health and reason again.
It appeared as if joy had started and loosened from his brain the disease which had made him Idiotic, and the long latent bane was expelled forever. He arose a man! Man, in tbo sane and glorious control of all his faculties.— Man, in the full possession and free use of that immortal mind, without which we would be no kin nor part of the Creator, nor dream that our final home and harbor is tbe bosom of our yearn¬ ing God. A man! Fool no more; and like one who wakes from aome long vision of dread images, be moved and spoke with an unladen mind, and wept
in joy at the coming of the morning of his liberty.
Tlie tears of Fontley aud his daugh¬ ter were freely mingled with his-^a happy trio. And still prosperity, with brighter smiles, marched fondly on him. The darkness fitly on the otber sideof the canvas, and the justice of God was vindicated.
The harvest of Eobert Mosgar became the prey of various misfortunes. They were backwar.i, scant, mildewed, here scorched by too much heat, anil there destroyed by tempests. Sluriain blight¬ ed his cattle, fire destroyed his build¬ ings, and as if the hostility of the ele¬ ments were not punishmeut enough, sickuess prostrated him, and in the midstof his ruining adversity his only children died.
So lleil the promise of the better farm. So perished, like the goldeu mist of .sunset, the vision of the villain. When lie recovered from the couch of physi¬ cal prostration, he learned for the first time ofall the good fortune of the ne- ])bew he had wronged—his reason ad¬ ded to his riches-his further bliss—his union with his benefactor's daughter. Then walked Eobert Mosgar forth iuto the air, and confessed, iu anguish, his wretchedness. He beat liis breast, aud strode among the ruined flelds, and knelt and sobbed aloud.
" Now, oh Lord, I know my sin! And though ray heart is broken, it is purl- fled."
Aud so ends the story of the " fool's farm." So closes it with a moral.— Let not the oppressor be too confident. The changes of New England's A^ril are not so great as the change of raau's vast estate; aud they who exult, iacru- el self-reliance, over tho unfortunate anil unhappy, may take their place to¬ morrow.   	
" COHPASSES.''^
THE   LIKE   AND   DEATH   OF   TIIE   MAN WHO WAS "TIRED 1-IGHTIN.'"
AuntClepsey was tossing her last flap jack from pan to plate, just in lime to give a glauee that caromed round the room, aud pocketing itself in the opeu window, fell upon the four of us—Fosco, Barkham, the colonel and rae—riding toward the house, our hoises tired and dejected and ourselves fit corarades for them.
One wonld think almost as soon of building a hotel in a cemetery, and wait¬ ing for ghostly visitants, as of settling uear Jlud Springs in the heart of a de¬ serted country. But there the house stood—a straggling, one-storied inn, half abode and half rough posts, like a broken spider, tlie supports ofthe shed standiug like gaunt legs. One almost expected to see it moving about the place.
A wild, uncouth placo—a ragged, un¬ shorn bit of nature, iu her most discor¬ dant mood. A narrow valley, fringed, as to ils sides wilh gnarled oaks that crouched in sileuce. and cottouwood, whose leaves seemeil glad to be hidden by theiriliisty coatings. Large boulders ran slow races down the hills, or gath¬ ered in stony groups around a .sober chief; some gray, and smircled with brittle moss ; others broken, aud trying to glisten in the sun. Even tlie binls deserted the canon, at the foot of which stood the house ; and though sometimes peeping aronnd tlie outlet, uever ven¬ tured iu. How the winter wind snarled up the ravine, bufleting everything, and drawing a cloud of dust in its jerky train! How the rain pours down, as if glad to wash out the lanilmarks, pelting and soaking, running new channels, and hollowing out the surface! Ouly the little, threading brook, that twisted ilowu from the spring, laughing in the .sunlight, flashing hack upon the cling¬ ing weeds that conrtsicd to the bright bubbles ou their rapid cour.se. At the fence the brook crept under, and moist¬ ened the flowers and vegetables that were scattered .about the gardens—the pride and care of Aunt Clepsey and the solace of her heart.
Hunting all day ainong the hills, wearied with fruitless sport, we came unexpectedly upon these signs of life, and urging our horses, pushed ou to the dwelling.
" Can wo st.ay here to night?" inqui¬ red Fosco, as the dame came lo thedoor and stood with arms akimbo, scanning our party with curious eye.
" Ye cau try," was the sapient rejoin¬ der—a soniewhat equivocal one—but belated travelers are uot wout to beover nice.
We turned our animals into the yard, and bundled our traps into the frout room—that served for sitting, dining and the bar. The hostess had preceded us, and gave us greeting, leaning off the bar rail. She coolly examined our bag¬ gage, such as it was, and with a sigh of relief, remarked :
" Ye aiu't got any yallar valise, Isee, and ye can stay. Ye may thiuk curus but no man whicli has a yallar valise can lie up here. I'll tell you why this is. Tliere was a peart-like chap oust came here, prospectiug around, which had sich a baggage; andhekeptstayiu' and stayin', which we didu't see any money of his'n day aftor day. But, as we found his valise he.avy—whicb me and Compasses often hefted-we thought it was all right. But, one day, my man didu't come back any more, and when we came to open the valise, we found it nailed to the fioor, empty ; and no mau with sich a heavy thing have we kept sence."
"You are right in beiug cautious when sueh men are around. But where is your husband?" asked the colonel.
" Down in the field, yonder. They call him Compasses, 'cause one of his legs is a little irregular. But you must not keep me palaverin', or you won't git nothing for provender," and she bustled away into fhe kitchen.
A kindly-faced old lady as I ever looked upon; aud she had safely passed the age when women are apt to become blotting papers, to absorb all the milk of humau kindness about them. Tall and spare, a plain priut gown neatly put ou, she had all possible dignity of carriage and demeanor.
A singular room we were occupying. At one eud jutted from the wall a few shelves, on which was arranged a row of bottles. There were seveu caus of oysters—always seven—having the marks of a d.aily polishing. A small jar waa labelled " Solace;" if you rang it there came forth an empty sound. A cigar box, of some faded medieval brand, hugged cIo.se to tbis for company. An old Dutch pipe, huug up by the neck, had been straugliug slowly for years. There was a remarkable print of the deluge upou one wall, where a purple ark navigated among pink whales, that spouted rasplierry soda water ; while Noah, with liis select company, clad in navy unifonns. aud bearing umbrellas, seemed to chaff the struggling creatures with all the efirontery of men who paid their fare. Two panting swimmers—"a pair of pants," as the Barkham chris¬ tened them—strove to climb the rudder, but were pushed oft" by the gold-laced hirelings. Hov/ do these scriptural l)rints get into such ijueer places? A half dozen well whittled chairs and two benches, thatshied up agaiust tbe wall, completed the furniture.
We had hardly completed a survey of our surroundings when we heard the blast of a horn, and close upon it a voice shouting " Silas! Silas!"
In answer thereto there soon appear¬ ed at the door the lord of the manor, surnamed Compasses. He had an un¬ mistakable stifi'leg—not a loose appen¬ dage, but a firm attaehmentto tho body, like I he limb of a tree—and the boot on his foot had all the close fitting sym¬ metry of the skiu of a baked apple upon the pulp thereof. The man, after gazing at us .somewhat in surprise, piv- ote.l into the room, entered the bar and said, " Welcome, geutlemen. Take a driuk ?"
Though we were tnlerablv well ac- qu.ainted with the frontier spirits, none of us were prepared for the pugncncy of this  tipple,   aud wheu  we recovered
NOi 33.
breath 'the lady appeared and, hastily setting a table, laid thereujmn our sup¬ per of bacon, eggs and flapjacks, to which we did summary justice; and when we liad finished we fllled our pipes and sat uuder the porch iu the warm evening, where we were very soon joined by the host and hostess, both as well provided with tobacco as ourselves.
An odd counle, truly. The man, a half waisted form", with a yellow, shaggy beard, an irregular Suez canal running through his sandy hair; the woman a trim, ueat body, and soft voice.
" We were much surprised to find any one living up here," remarked Fosco, by way of heginuing conversation.
" So am I when I wake up in the morning," growled out Compasses.
" Now, Silas, don'l say that," remon¬ strated liis wife. ¦" Yer hadn't orler be disconten ted here. We live well enough and have no troubles. Yer hadn't orler do it."
" Waal, my life haa been chock full
of hadn't orterg any way; and some¬ times I've broken them and sometimes not, aud it don't seem to make no dif¬ ference."
" It arn't never no good' to bnck ngainst things, Silas. Providence isu u- sartin' in his dispensatories, I know; and livin' is always a game of perhaps,' and when' we're young is the perhap- pest part of it, but I guess the Bible's true, and it'll come out all right In the end."
" Waal, for my part, I think Provi¬ dence is a little mixed. It's no use talk¬ ing to me. I had a brother once as ha' made a good sheepman down in Texas, but begot religion, nnd played tbe big fiddle in the church at flrst—which I called it the viol o' wrath—and the way he used lo squeak the wrath out o' that fiddle was a caution to frogs in thealuce. Theu Enos took to preachin'—preach- in', I went for to say, but somehow it'a about fhe same thing, for lhem pious cusses they gets up and preaches on their friends, aud tells the Lord all their short-comes. And if as how we're all sinners, lhem fellers must kinder turn state's evidence. Aud after Enos got to preachin' he tried to convert me, but I didu't convert so much aa I might. You needn't try it on again, Cleps. Each of us does accordin' to his lights, aud some of us have to sweat like a nigger under oath, but the most of us is-bilks."
The last sentence came out like a whip-lash—graceful and cutting at flrst —and ending in a quick snap.
"Well, Silas, I won't dispute the pint before the company."
" Have you lived here long?" inquir¬ ed Barkham.
"Nigh on six years, now," answered Aunt Clepsydra.
" We came on from Texas arter that dry year," added Compassess. " There were mauy of ua left that country in them days; times was hard, aud we was a settlin' a better couutry, but it's about as hard and droughty here as anywhere else."
"But do j-ou have much company here?"
"Travel ain't overdone, but we gets a share. You must 'seuse me, geutle¬ men ; I've got to look arter the stoek," answered Compasses, and he knocked the ashes from his pipe and vanished around the corner.
"You musn't mind what he says," apologized his wife; " he has had many disappointments. That there man has heen rich and prosperous; andsince he has lost his money, he has been unhap¬ py. Disappointments hurts everyhody. Out 'tarnally he may he the same, but his innards is struck."
" Have you uo childreu living with you?"
" We never had only two and one of tliem lies in New Mexico, with his toes pinting toward the wild flowers. The other one left ns long ago. His father was Iiarsli to him, aud he run away, and went to Roosha. I hev heerd as he's been beknighted for building a railroad there, but I'llon't allow much upon it. There ain't no oue but me and Sil.as left now, aud I hope we will go together. We've been like the Sye¬ nite twins almost, and hadn't orter be separated. And Silas has heen agood husband lo me; there's good leads in hini, though the outcroppin's rough and bad like; and he don't mean half he aays. Do you mean to stay with ns long ?"
" We have notquitedecided. Is there anything to shoot .around here?"
" Not much; folks usually does their shooting ainong Ihemselves. You inight flnd a deer or two, if you was lucky."
At this point the host returned and proposed a game of " jiitch-seven up," to which all assented but myself, and were .soon engaged around a rickety ta¬ bic, deep in tlie mysteries of "sinches" and " pots."
" My man is very fond of that ere game," remarked the old lady, " but I dou't like cards gin'rally. Cards and drinkin' go together, and many a young man is broken with 'em. I hev known young men to be bull drivers, and risin' iu the world, fetched clear down by pison. And it seems to run in families. There was Mary Flint, in our town, had a rattle of seven sons, and one after anolher took to drinkin' and died. I think that if the men as make laws -would license drinkin' places aud gambliii' ])laces, and make people do them openly, there would not be so many drunkards, 'cos folks always hankers arter what they're forbidden to git. Are ye all frora San Francis¬ co?"
"All hut one of us, who is frora Chi¬ na."
" Ye don't say from China? I won¬ der if he has ever met my son there? ain't China contagious to Roosha?"
"Notvery; a great many miles be¬ tween them."
"Sinched, bj* Moses!" here iuter¬ rupted the old man. " Look-a-here, Cleps, don't never aay no more to rae about luck. This yer gentleman has had two clatters of four, without tak¬ iu' breath. I do believe as how tliat recording augel of yours, has uever scratched nothing but sinches against ray name. I've had enough of this game."
Compasses arose frcm the table, and refilled his pipe, and seemed to be try¬ ing to relieve his mind by vicious puffs at it.
" Gen'Iemeu, ever since God horned me, everything has petered out. First, I was cleaned out by the drought in Texas. Then I was captain of a dug¬ out ferry, upou Snake Eye river, when the chaps put up a job on me as busted the rifle again. Tliem cusses used lo keep a span of clothes on each side of the river, and pickupabigrock in their arms to hold 'era down and wade across. That let me out in navigation. Aud seiice I've been here my stoek is allers running always, and my ricks burn¬ ing down, till I'm e'n a'most worn out."
"You must have heen rather tried by all these' things," ventured Fosdb.
"You may say that boldly, air,.— That is a good word. I've boen for years in the frying pan, and I'ra only skiramins."
"Dou't remember, Silas, of thatstory of Job, which-wastheunfortunestman iu theScriptur?''
,but
"Yes, I does; and I am very much like Job's oft'-ox. Well, it's gettin' nigh on to bedtime, and I'll say good-night."
We were not loath to retire, and.ioon were rolled up in our blankets; and we thought Compasses must have been iu better spirits, for, ere we fell .asleep wo heard a voice singing the well-kuown ditty:
" Jean TlnptlHle, pour iinni,
.Teiin BiipMsl*^. imnr qnol.
(111. Jean ISaptiste. pour qlloi. pour qooi,
"i'ou Irotl ou my Utile dog'.s tall, by gar!"
When morning dawned, however, our host was morose as ever, and toour inquiries as to the night melodies gave auswer:
" It's that cussed Canadian of a fel¬ ler. That's the only psalm he knows, aud heain't quite sureof that; heain't fit for nothing but fo range my sheep, and I believe it's his. moauiug that gives lhem the scab. Clepsy, she reads the papers, sometimes, and saya he must have the trikina, as he's always singia' about pork war."
" You must see newspapers very sel¬ dom here."
" Yes, thank God! It's plain sailin' to Clepsy. She's a born scholar, and al¬ ways took to readin' naturally, particu¬ larly to noveltry. But I gets mired every inch I goes; aud on lliree sides of the paper there ain't auy partiekler connection; it's boots aud slioes, lard and lumber, hardware and dry goods, and all mixed. A good many charick- tcrs in that ere play, I says to ray wife. But then, a woman's got moresavey in thera things thau a man, which iasup- posed to work all the lime."
" Wou't you go out shooting with us this morning," asked the colonel.
" I rathyer guess not. I hain't been much on the shoot o' late. When I was younger, I was reckoned the best shot in our town, but them days is fled and gone forever. Ye'd better bear to the right, after ye git up the canon, where it splits."
And we left him and he watched us aa we rode away.
Over the brown, hare hills, guiltless of shrub or grass, rolling away to the north in resistless waves. Crisp and brittle the turf under our horses' hoofs, the little puffs of dust risfng at every step. Into their holes tumble the nim¬ ble squirrels, throwing quick glances over their ahoulders. Now a startled rabbit leaps out into sight, und bowls away, unhurt by the sharp "ping" of the bullet. Warm pours down therays of the sun, burning and parching the earth, aud cheeking the haste of our horses.
Lo! adeeria seen in a hollow, rais¬ ing his head In llie air, and snuffing at the intruders. Just one stroke of the spurs and away we skurry in pursuit. A young one,  scarcely showing his
horns, hut he bounds proudly on.— Closer and closer we oome, till thepant- Ing animal turns. Crack! goea the colonel's rifle, and witli. a bound, the tired creauture falls, wilh a bullet in his shoulder. Then the knife—and his life has fled.
Only ono did we rise that (lay and to¬ ward nightfall were only too glad to re¬ trace our steps to the house and sup on venison stakes.
"Not much luek to-day," said Com¬ passes. " Oue deer i3> liltle among so many."
"But the skill of your wife makes us forget llie scarcity."
" Well, gentlemen, that ar wife ia the only comfort I ever had. Clepsy is a master hand at flxin's. There'ssomeas has the doin's and hasn't the know- how-iu's, aud mauy a rich man can't set a good table; but if your woman lias the know-howin'g, a very little do¬ in's is enough. Which words is fouud in the tenth 'pistle to the Californians, or howsomever ought to be."
"What's that, Silas?''interrupted the wife, catching the last words, " You quotin' scriptur'. I'm eenaiuost astou- ished, but am likewise pleased."
"I didn'tgofar toletyouhearit, no harm's done." "Wont, you say it again, old man?" "It's no use to sell your cabbages twice, aays I, and I never repeats." "Like Shakespeare, "inserted Fresco. " Hardly," was the reply, followed by an explanation.
" Waal," contiuued Compasses, "as I ain't no scholar, you must pardiu me for not takin."
"A man must have larnin' to take them things," said Aunt Clepsy, asshe took up a dropped stich in her prospee tive stocking. "Not everybody can get aneddicalion, and there's some as don't proflt by it. A boy might read and spell like a steam engine, without knowin' how to milk; and I've often thought as how eddication was like tun¬ neling for a blind lead ; ye don't know how much it's going to lielp ye. And if everybody has got a trade, he's got somethin' what uo drought cau kill, and uo flood wash away, but is his'n eternally."
"Yer right there, Clep.sy," followed Compasses. " If I had a thousand and one boys I'd give the odd one an eddi¬ cation, and give the other some trade; then they wouldn't rise up agin me at the last day. With his health and a good trade, a feller can fight his way along, partickerly in a country like this."
We sat in conversation some hours, and, on breaking up the circle, an¬ nounced lo our hosts our inteuded de¬ parture the next morning.
"We're sorry to have ye go," said Aunt Clepsy, "for we don't have many visitors, it's seldom where all the peo¬ ple is."
" But we may come to sec you again some day," I a'nswered.
A long, sweet sl^ej), afler a fatiguing day, such :ls is enjoyed in the invigora¬ ting air, is a boon whicii we thoroughly appreciated that night, and at early morning were ready to start; and, hav¬ ing partaken of a hearty breakfast, bade adieu to the old couple, and pro¬ ceeded homeward, wondering much about the waves of circumstauces that had thrown together two such singular waifs, and home them to that distant spot.
It was in the summer of 1S.53 that ray law practice took me again into that district, and aa I sat in llie hotel of the coanty seat, I glanced carelessly at an old newspaper that lay on the table. My eye fell upon the following item:
Suicide.—Luke Grant, formerly of Texas, and proprietor of the Mud Springs Hotel, coniniitted suicide yes¬ terday, at eight o'clock a. tu., by sh'oot- ing himself through the head. He died iuslautly.
The paper was a month old. I could but feel bad for Compasses and for his poor wife, and, after the term of court was fiuiahed, rode over to the place. The old house stood as of old ; the gar¬ den bloomed still and the brook bab¬ bled aseheerfully.aswhen Ifiislbeheld it. Leaving my horse at the fence, I knocked at the door and Aunt Clepsy met me—but oh! how changed. Sor¬ row had plowed deep furrows in the once smooth brow, aud beneath her pure white cap I could see many a sil¬ ver line. She did uot know me at first, but when I recalled to her our former visit, greeted me warmly, Ihough her hand was full of trembling.
" You know he's gone, then ; gone, and left me behind, which never did leave hira for asingle day. In thesun, aud in the storm, when the wheels run well, and when he was mired, we was always together, and never once did we have a harsh word. We never soured on each other oust.
The poor woman's aobs choked her utterance.
" I've sarched the Scriptur' and tried to get comforted, but it don't come," she continued. "Foller me, and I'll show you were we laid him."
Out in the gardeu, among fragaut flowers, was Compasses' grave—a sim¬ ple mound. A row of violets bordered the smiling earth, and the brook still sang its song.
"Not that I blame him rauch, he waa tired—tired of flghtiu'. Some men's lives is a continooalfight, and they has to be strong uot to git underneath. Eut I loved bim.
When the heart broken woman some¬ what recovered, I led the way to the house; and, as we sat at dinner, ahe told me all; he had left her as usual; how she had heard the shot and found hira dead.   A short, sad story.
" Shall you continue to live here ?" I asked, as I shook her hand, forced to hurry away.
"Oh, yes; I.shall wait here till I'm sent for by the Lord."
And there she waited, hoping and trusting, liviiig upou her pa.st love aud her coming joy, till the death augel summoned her to heaven—to Compaa- sea, who watched for her.—Ovcrland Monthly,  	
Looking out for Slights and In- auLTS.—There are some people, yea, many peojile always looking out for slights. They cannot carry on the daily intercourse of the fiimily without sus¬ pecting some oft'ense is desigued. They are as touchy as hair triggers. If they meet an acquaintance in the street who happens to be pre-occupied with business, tliey attribute his ab¬ straction iu some mode persoual lo themselves, .and take'umbrage accord¬ ingly. They lay on others the fault of their own irritability. A fit of indi¬ gestion makes them aee impertinence in everybody they come in contact with. Innocent persons, who never dreamed of giving ofl'enee, are astonish¬ ed to find some iinfortumiato word, or some momentary faeiturnity, mistaken for an insnlt. To say the least, the habit is unfortunate. It is far wiser to face the more charitable view of our fellow-beings, and not suppose a slight is intended, unless the neglect is open and direct. Aflerall, too, life takes its hue, in a great degree, from the color of our owu miud. If we are frauk and generous, the world treats us kindly. If, on the contrary, we are suspicious, men learn fo be cold and cautious to ns. Let a person get the reputation of being touchy, and everybody is under more or less restraint; and in this way the chances of an imaginary offense are vastly increa.sed.	
Belcheu on " Slopping Oveii."-T suppose I do slop over sometimes. Well I never saw a pan full of milk that did not slop over. Take a pintofmilk aud put it in a big bucket, there will be no slopping over then. And a man who h.as only a pintof feeling, in an enor¬ mous bucket, never slops over. But if a man is full of feeling, up to the very brim, how ia he going to carry iiimself wilhout spillingover? He cannot help it. There will bo dripping over the edges all the time. And as every flow¬ er and blade of grass rejoices when the rain falls upon it, ao every recipient along the way which a man with over- flowinggeneroua feelingwalks ia thank¬ ful for bis bounty. How lo carry a na¬ ture full of feeling, and administer il witliout making any mistakes, I do not know, you do uot, nobody doea, nobody ever did, aud so nobody ever will; so we must take it aud get along as best we can. Life is a kind of zig-zag, any¬ how, and we are obliged to resort lo ex¬ pedients and learn from our blunders, whieh nre inevitable. We fiud out a great deal more from men'a raistakas than from their successes.
"No man inthe nation is more in¬ debted to the people than I am," said an ofBce-holder.
"Indeed, sir; how much of their money have you taken?"
Why is a man who spoils his chil¬ dren like another who buUda castles in the air ? Because he Indulges in-fancy too much.
BEAirnFOL.
O flower! tbo sunshluc loves to Iciss, Speckled or streaked, or bright or dull I wbat can we say of thoe but this 7— So beautiful I
Ograss! that lias with glory decked Tbe land that else were bare and dull, Tbislor thy title we elect- Most beautlfal 1
Ostor! thatglldcstall the sea, And fiila the air with splendor full. What Is there to bo said or thee— Save beautiful ?
O child I -with iresses spun of gold. And eyes witii heavenly light o'er lull. Wllftt word has half tliy beanty tohl— Like beautiful?
In truth, when anything I.s sweet. The grass wo tread, the liower wo cull. The star, the child. wtOnust repeat- How beautiful!
FOS THE IITTLE FOLKS.
ROBBIE MALCOLM.
Robbie Malcolm lived in the sea. I do not mean that he was a flsh, and went paddling through the water with fins; for he was a very live boy, who rau on two sturdy little feet over all the laud he could fiud to run on,—which, was not much, to be sure!
I'he house that Robbie lived iu, of all houses in the world, was a lighthouse. Thero it stood on a narrow island, which was a mere heap of rocks and clay, that old Ocean beat at day aud uight as if he were bouud to grind it to powder, aud have thiugs all his owu way. For his way was a very fierce aud destroying oue; and the tall while tower of bricks and iron wliieh had beeu built ou theislaud, and light¬ ed with great lamps every uight to keep watch over his doings, prevented a world ofthe mischief he hud been up to iu the old days wheu he tossed the poor shijis about in slorm and darkness, so tliat, alas! many of thera uever saw harbor more.
However, thunder uud rage as he might, he could uot sweep away the stanch liltle islaud which, small as it rose ubove the water, had a lirm foun¬ dation of rocks that seemed to reach dowu to tlie very heart of the world, expressly to hold np that sliining white tower, where every night Eob- bie's father lighted the lainps, and kept lhem burning till the great sun came up agaiu out of the sea.
A curious life Robbie lived compar¬ ed lo that of boys on shores: he could not go to see other boys at all; the lighthouse people could not make even a eall without a voyage, so they dispens¬ ed with lliat ceremony of fashionable life altogether.
Robbie was not witliout companions, however. There were the sea-gulls, that bull tthciruestsin holes iutheclay bauk; Robbie ul'leu jieeped over and dropped crumbs into the moutha of the little ones, but he was manly enough uot lo pull the helpless thiugs out of their nests, aud modest enough to know that he could be only a very humble iLSsisfaut in their bringing up,—that the chief charge must be left to their black-and-whiie-feathered mamn-as, that certainly uuderstuod their busi¬ ness Iiioroughly, and in a very short time had every callow fledgling of thera darling over the waves, soaring and whirling ou the wild ocean winds as if there were no such joy in life as beiug a sea-gull, aud Iiaving a good hurricane to ride ou.
Theu there was the stormy-petrel, which before a tempest might bo seen dashing aloug the surface of the waves like lightning ; and tho pipiug plover, that ran so fusion the beach, stopping every now and then to inake such a sweet, .sorrowful cry, that it seemed as if even a hii-d knew things weresorae- times very sad in this strange world.
But the sea-bird that Rubble loved best was a jolly fellow ; I dare aiiy Bob¬ bie knew his name, but I know only that this favorite of hia waa a reckless little creature: he delighted in tilting ou llie very foainciest of the waves; aud, when he saw a monster breaker coming iu, he would j-ast take to his wings at tho very hist second before it would cra.sh over ll ira ; theu wilh a flirt and a tilt he wouid go over (in the next wave, morsel aa he was, secure in his quick wit aud wings againsl all tbe Atlantic Ocean.
I suspect that this lilting on the waves was not all for frolic, and thai it had something to do with bugs for breakfast; for breakfast, whether of bugs or something else, is at the bottom of a great mauy showy exercises in this world. At all events, breakfast couldu't have been taken more grace¬ fully.
All these wild creatures of the air seemed at last lo regard the solitary lillle lighthouse-boy asif he were one. of theni: they could sweep close to his curly head, and then shoot with their bold cry far up iuto the clouds, some¬ times darling quickly back agaiu with a shrill, scolding note, as if he were a backward fledgling Ihey were teaching lo fly, and whom they found rather too stupid to learu.
Robbie would watch his feathered companions for hours together, or gaze at the great ocean itself. Close to his feet, whero it broke ou the island, yon could never aay what the waves would bring up next—fragraenta of beautiful sea-plants, growing nobody knew how far away, or broken spars and bits of old iron. Robbie used to Avonder what kind of ship these had belonged to, aud whether she had gone to pieces because there waa no lighthouse lo warn ker; theu he would think that keeping a liglithouse was the most beautiful thing iu the world.
The hundreds of ships, too, that some¬ times came in sight in a day, gleaming for a raoment away off on the horizon, or sailing so near that Robbie could eou n t the men ou the decks—homeward bound ships, ladeu deep iu the water wilh rich cargoes from wonderful lauds ou the other side of the globe- outward going vessels, steering for the same distant ports;—all these were a kiud of society to Robbie, and lold him strange things across tho bright dash¬ ing water.
Small as the island was, it was large enough to hold a few pets for Robbie: he had rabbits that never ran away, because they had nowhere to run but plump into the sea; aud he had a dog that swam oil'famously forsficks in the water; and hens aud chickens,—bless me! such a tirae the latter had before they learned to walk against the wild ocean winds! iheir wings would be blown over their heads, and Ihey would tumble about in the most ridiculous manner: butthey soon adapted them¬ selves l() their breezy home, aud like Robbio himself, raade the best of cir¬ cumstances.
So my little hero lived in the sea, and was h.appy and contented there uutil the sorrows befell of which I am goiug to tell you.
I ought to have remarked, perhaps, that Robbie's pareuls were uot origi¬ nally of the seafaring elass that usually take such places; the liglilhou.se-keep- er was a stranger from iar away, who had sull'ered some great wrong or inis- forlune that made him glad to fly from the haunts of men, aud live out iu this wild ocean home aloue with his wife and little hoy, amid the vast sights and sounds which seemed to breathe, with the large, calra spirit of eiernity, over the troubles of time.
There was a mystery about the light¬ house-keeper's history which I do not fully know,—only that his wife so clung to him iu his dark hours, had so sacri¬ ficed herself for his sake, that he thought her scarce a mortal woman.
One day wheu she felt weak aud ill he sent lo the inaiuland in great haste nnd fear the servant-boy, who lived al the liglithouse, to look np agood nurse, who would come and slay till she was better.
But a few hours after this messenger had goue such a storm arose as raade it utterly impossible for any boat to come back to the island ; and the poor wife, who had eudeavored in her cheerful manner to make light of her illness, was soon seeu, beyond all disguise, lo be very dangerously ill with a fever, which, alas! before midnight so affect¬ ed her braiii that sho no louger kuew what sho said or did.
Wliile the fever raged within the storm raged without-such a storm as had not beeu known before by laud or sea for twenty years. Two days and nights the terrible tempest shook the bed on whicii the poor sufferer Jay, and filled the air with such a thunder of waves as you can have no power to imagine.
All this while, as you may well be¬ lieve, the lighthouse-keeper never clo¬ sed his eyes, but spent every momeut, save those he was obliged lo give to the care of his lamps, in watching by the sick-bed of his wife, with desperate ef¬ forts and prayera for her recovery.
Now it really does sometimes seem in this world that the old proverb must be true, that disasters never corae singly; certainly to this poor family iu the
lighthouse  camo  many troubles, one upon another.
Itwas the third nightof the gale, and the lighthouse-keeper had just been up to the top of the tower, into the great lantern, lo light Ihg lamps tor the night, when as he was coming down the wind¬ ing iron staircase, being giddy with grief nnd watching, and jnst now op¬ pressed with a fresh anxiety because of some extra work that must he done about the lamps, that would keep him away from his poor wife so loug—in his worry and haste his foot somewhat slip¬ ped ou the staircase, and he fell over the iron balusters, slrikiug heavily ou the stone floor before.
The poor lighthouse-keeper lay white aud motionless as if he were dead, with the dark hlood trickling from a wound in his forehead, and away in the little room his unconscious sick wife on her pillow; and saddest of all, poor Robbie yet ignorant of the half of his calami¬ ties; forlhe tall towerof thelighthouse was distinct from thelow brick building in which the family lived; and although a passage walled aud ceiled over coi> nected the two, the noise of the waves was so tremendous that a liound far louder than that which the poor man made in falling could never huve been heard by his Utile son in his motlier's room.
Robbie, however, seeing by the re¬ flection ouL'iide, whieh raade all the i.iland bright, that the lamps were lighted, wondered and wondered why his father did not come. The sick mother had ceased that pitiful moan¬ ing which had madeherseera so unlike Robbie's own mamma, who uercr luur- iDured atall when well; shehad fallen into adeepsleep, aud Robbiealolesoftly out just to tell his fatherthe good news.
Not finding hira in the kitchen, he ran through the passage-way into the lower part of the lighthouse, where were tlie great oil-vats from which the lamps were filled; there 'were windows in this room, tno, through which the lights of the tower cast back their re¬ flection, and Ihereon the .stone floor he saw all that had happened.
It would uot have beeu very strange ifsoyounga boy as Robbie had been too much terrified to do anything liut sit helplessly down aud cry al knowing himself aloue out there in the ocean, with uo human beiug who could hear a cry or lifta hand to help either of his pareuls so lerribly stricken; but after a moment's bewildermentanda choking sob or tw'o Robbie stooped down to see if his father was yet alive, aud flndlng that his pul.se still beat, he began to think what he eould do to save him.
Living where he did, this little boy had beeu used lo sights of great dariug aud uoble courage, and doubtless theae memories nerved his young heart. He had seen shipwrecked peo|)le snatched from theboilingwaves at the utter risk ofthe lives of those who saved them, and brought ill to fhe lighthouse to be labored over for hours by his own father audraother, who uow lay helpless, with nonebuthis childish arm to aid; aud thelittlelighthoiise-l.ad betook himself to his work with a jiresence of miml bom, perhaps, of these solemn experieu- cea.
It was asevere strain aud struggle for the youug child to draw liis fatlier's helpless form along the passage-way in¬ to thekitchen, but it was a bitterly cold uight, aud he knew that he must be brought where there was a fire, or what littlo life was left in him would surely be extinguished. And by that great streu.gth and cour.age which love aud faith give eveu to youug arms this was somehow accomplished, and Rob¬ bie soon had hia poor father's sileut head supported ou pillows betbre the kitchen fire, whicli was burning warm aud bright. Theu he stauchcd the blood flowing from the wound in liis forehead, and hrought spirita and oilier restoratives such as he had seeu uaed for people who lay thua iusen.sible; but though after a time low nioans escaped his lips, the injured man spoko no dis¬ tinct word, nor ever once opened his eyes.
Tlius through a loug, strange hour, between these Lwo the youug watcher went—the sick motlier aleepiug llie sleep heavy with exhatistatiou of fever, aud the father equally helpless and uii- couscious. The awful maddened ocean thundered on without; the deluge of raiii and bliudiug snow had censed to fall, butthe waves rose higlier than ever witll the long fury of the gale; through the liltle windows they could be seeu rearing their monstrous white heads iu the alternate bright light and black shadow that the great iaiiterus made, like a crowd of horrible rushing phan¬ toms who were bound yet todragdown the light-houau ami iill it couLained into their abyss.
There came a fearful momeut when Robbie thought this was verily to be; his young head swam, he eould scarcely see, but surely, surely those bright streams aud black shadows were uot so distinctly marked over the foaming water ; they grew fainter—one loug glittering beam vanished utterly.— Robbie knew the real truth iu a mo¬ menl—the island was not sinking, but the lighls, the great lights in the tower, were going out!
Ala.s.! itwas the anticipation of Ibis that had made Mr. Malcolm's fatal haste and hurry; there w.as soraespecial work that must be done to keep the lamps burning that night.
I suppose with all our imagining we cau scarcely iuiagiue what this new- fear was to the liltle light-house boy. It wfis somethiug that heat iu his blood and breathed in his breath, that, what¬ soever else happened, those lamps must never go out.
" Be faithful! " There are no words of all the words that are spoken that Bobbie's mother had taught him raore earuesll.y than these; that to be truelo your trust, to be as suro and certain to your promise as tho sun to the sky, was the one quality that above all others made a man ; that human beiugs were necessarily so boniid to each other by a thousand mutual wants and depeud- euces that faithless and lying people were the very .worsthe could encounter; because in the very hest aud smoothest tinies men must constantly confide in each other's honor, and iu life's rough aud dangerous ways, ah, what would become of them if they failed theu in their mutual trust ?
What would become of them, the lioor
ni^
uess?
Robbie took one look at the pale, sleeping face of his sick mother, and thought bow, if she could have knowl¬ edge of what had happened, she would surely go upto tend the lamps, eveu if she Weut with her dying feet; and then he sprang away, resolved, if he was at last lo lie dowu and die witii his parents, to first do what he could lofiU their place.
Now Robbie was a very observinir boy; in the serious little life he had lived it had come to be a habit with liim to note carefully wliatever he saw done abouthim, and wlieu he had climbed up tlie long, winding stairway into the great lantern at tlie lop of the liglit¬ house, he know very well what the lamps needed.
There were sixteen of them in all, set with their powerful reflectors in two Vows arouml the circle of the laiile'rn, which was wholly raade of iron and glass, the iron-work painted wliite to reflect the light raore strongly, and the glass very thick and solid, as it well needed to be.
This was unharmed: although the fioor of the giant lantern shook under Robbie's feet, and the whole towtir sen¬ sibly rocked with the gale, the archi¬ tect-ivlio built the light-house had so thoroughly done hiswork, theelcnieuls inight shake hut could not destroy it.
The faithless person was the oil con¬ tractor, or the government agent who had employed him. Whichever was the guilty party, a preciously meau thing they had done.
There were two kinds of oil used at the liglit-hou.se, called the summer- strained and the winter-strained oil, and the former congealed so readily, that it would uot bum at all iu that exposed place wheu the cold reached- a certain intensity.
Now, tlie contractor had placed some extra hogsheads of the cheap summer- strained oil in this year's allowance, making the supply of the better kind so short that Mr. Malcolm had beeu at his wits' end to make it last through the severe wealher. And the last drop had been exhausted before this storm came ou, since it was very late in the season.
Still, late as it was (the month of March had commenced), there had been great showers of snow aud rain, and now that these had censed, the theremoraeter rapidly fell until the cold was as severe as that of any win¬ ter night, and the oil had congealed. Seven of the sixteen lamps were al ready
out, and the others were burning very dimly, when Robbie climbed through the trap door into the lantern.
But one thing could be done, and that was to heat some oil in a kettle over the fire, aud then refill the lamps wilh it one by one; and all this in the bitter cold night, with so many weary steps to go up and down belween the top of the tower and the stove in the little kitchen,—the two helpless ones still to be tenderly eared for.
Those were terrible hours for that lonely little boy, bnt through thera all his brave young spirit walched aud toiled with nuceusiug devoliim.
All night long, fed by one childish hand, some light slill streamed over that raging ocean to tell where the tower yet atood ; .and every extinguish¬ ed lamp those-numb little lingers set ouce again bright and burning iu its place was like a prayer sent up to Heaven to save tho.se in the lighthouse, even as they had tried to sav(» those on the sea. No doubt .somelliing of that great calra and peace which comes from the cousciousne.ss of having doue one's best came eveu iu his grief aud trouble lo the littlo lighthouse boy.
The raornlug dawned at last over the wild ocean waste, and on the top ofthe lower that had so oflen and often shone to save the storm-tossed mariner |ioor Robbie hoisted his little flagof dialres.s.
I do not kuow exactly how many hours it was before help reached hlni, or how long n time jiassed ere that poor father and mother werestroug and well again, but I know they bolh lived to learn the faith ahd courage of their lit¬ tle boy ; and I ain very glad tosay that the government so far appreciated the conduct of this noble lad us to provide for Ilia education till heshould become of age.
I sincerly hope no more summer- strained oil, that must be boiled at midnight to make it burn, has been sent to worry Uiose who have lighthouse lamps to teiicl, whether are grown-up men or bravo little boys like Robbie Malcolm.—Our y'oung Folks.
LE&AL NOTICES.
E-VEOUT«n'S KOTICE.
Estate of John  Wiley, lale of Conoy twp., deceased.
LBTTERSte-Stanienlaryoiisaid cstite hav¬ ing been grained to tin, undersigned, ail fiersons Illdebted theretoare refines ted lo iliaTte' mmediate   settlemeut,   and   those  having claims or deinainls:(gain«t tiiesame. will pre¬ seiitthem I'or settlement, to (;t«e undersigneii. CONaAD ZIKULER. P.L'sidIng Iri Kast Doneiial townsliip. JOHN E. WILEY, Itesldiug In Conov township. KE.N'IIY H. WILKY, ; Residing iu Conoy towuship.
luuel.'iUt.'U j E.\ocutors.
J. li. LlviNOSTOK, Attorney.
¦   EXKOir»'«Jf.«( .VOTICE.
Estate of HiramjS. Harmeii, late of the Cit.y of Lancaster, deceased.
LETTEltstestnmeulury on said estate h.iv¬ lug been grauled to the undersigned, ull (lersousilKlel,led tntrelojireretiuested'to make lmmediale.settlem(:nt.and thosehaviiigolaima ordcmandsugainstthesaiiie wilIjireseut them fnr settleiueiit to the undersigned, residing lu Lanca-ster lownsiiip.
Juui!ana-.; sa.muel miller,
EXEOlTOItS' XOTIOE.'
Estate of Samuel F. Eberman, dec'd. r ETTEKStestnnieiitiiryon tne cstateoCsald Xj dece.'Lsed luiviiVg been grauted to the iin- derelgned, all perstms iiKiebtcd tliereto are requested tr, make inimedi.-ile payment, and those Iiaving ciainis 10 present lhem Io
I A. f. EUEIt.MAN,,
Xo. .TONorlli Front Street, Philadelphia,
' E. .M. EBEK.MAN,
Jiiu2:n;'t.12 .Sti-asburg. Pa.,IC.xccutors.
EXECOTO!fS NOTICE.
Estate of Charliis Kreiter, lale of AVar¬ wick tow[nship, deceased. IETTEK.S te.slamentary on said estate J having been gi anted to the undersigned, all per.sous indebtea thereto, are requested to make immediatu laymeiit.aud those having claims or demands against tlie same, will pre¬ sentthem wilhoul'clehiy forsettleinent to the undersigned, resitlilig in Liiiz. Warwiclc twp. I JOHN n. EIlIl,
jun22fit;{'- I K.\eeutor.
E.XECl-TOItS-NOTICE..
Estaio of George Meek, late of West Lampetdr twp., deceased.
LKTTElt.Stestameiitar.von said estale hav ing been granted to the nndersigned, aii fersoiis imiebted tliereto are request edio make aimeillutesettlem'ent.and tho.se havlngclaims or demands against llie same will present tliem without delay for selllemeut to the un¬ dersigned cxeculoi-s.
j PHILIP MECK.
JOII.V g. Mi-;i;ic, .iun22llt:!:! IlAVIl) .MKCK.
J. tt. LiviNcsToN', Allomey.
AOMIXI.STKATOn.S-.VOTICE.
Estate of John Sweigart,   late of Earl township, dcee;ised.
I' KTTEIwSof ailiiilnl.slrathin ou said estate J having been granted to the undersigned, all Iiersons indebted thereto   are requesled to make Immediate settlemeut. aud those Iiaving claims or deuiands agaiust Iliesame. will pre¬ seut them witliout delay forseltlenient tn the uudersigned.       CHaULRS SWKIGAIIT. Kesiding in East Earl lownship, J-iCOB S. .SHIRK, llesiiling in East Lampeter lown^llIp. juni-3lin:>i  	
.lUJHXLvniAToiw .voricE.
Estate of Williain Conard, lateof East Lainpeter township, dec'd.
Letters of admlnlstralion on said estate having licen grauted to tiie undei-signed, all persons illdebted thereloare requested tomake iinme(llatelia.vnieut, aud tiiose havlngeiaims or demands againstthe same will iireseilt tliem forsettlemelit to tliouuilei-slgncd.
SA.MUEL CONARD, .South E. corner of nth and  Market St., Phil. .rOKEPII CONARD, East Lampeter twp., m-,iy2S(i*t 28 'Administrators.
ADJIIXlSTIt.VTOBS' NOTICE.
Estate  of Benjaniiu  Clia"les, lale   of Lancaster township, deceased.
LCTTEiw of administration on snid estate ha¬ ving been granted to tile nndersigued, all persons Indebted theretoare retiuestedto make lihtnediate payment, and those havlngeiaims or dernandsngalnsttliesiimcw-ill presentthem witlioutdclayrorsettleinent Co the uudcrsign* ed.
r.ENJAMIN U. CIIARLE-S, Kesiding in Lancaster township. UREMNE.MAN U. SHU.MA.N', Kesiding lu Mauor townsliip. ClIAltLES DKNUJiS, Alt'y. my IS-dt-L*?
.VDJIIXISTR.VTOK'.S XOTICE.
Estateof John Gyger, lateof East Lam¬ peter towuship, dec'd. IETTERrf of admluistrallon on said eslate J havlug been granled to lhc undersigned, all persons indehted thereto, arc requ-jsted to make settlement, aud those liaring claims or demands agaiust tiie sanie. v/iilpresent them without delay for S'lttlemeul lo tlie under¬ signed, resiiling in .said townsliip.
ELIZABETH O. E.SHLBM.\N. maySi lit 2s Ailiuinistralrlx.
Al>JHXISTn,\TOIl'.S SOTICE.
Estate of Jacob Frautz, late of West  Cocalico lowuship, dec'd.
r ETTERS or administration on said estate J liaviug been granted to the underslgued. all personsiudebted to s:iid deeeiieut are re¬ quested to make iminediate .settlement, and tiiose llnvlng claims ordemauds against tlie sahie will presentthem Ibr settlement tollie underslgued, residing in said township.
U.-vTHAKINE l-UANZ. JOUN \V. JIKNr7,KIl. iiiay2.5 fill 2.S Adminislralor.
AUIHTOIt'.S XOTICE.
Assigned Estate of Joseph Bowder and Wife, of AVarwick township, Lan¬ caster county.
THE under.slgned Audiior. appointed'to dis¬ lrlbute tile balHuee reiiiainiiig in the hands of Andrew iJ. llaekman. .\.sslmiee. lo and !-amoiig tho.se leg.-illyenlilled (o I lie.same, will sit I'or that purpose on HATUKilAY. the -Jild of .IULY. l.STO, afJo'cIoclvii. ill., ill the Library Room of tlie Courl. House. In the eitv of l.an- eaneasler. whore all persons lulerest'ed In said distribution may attend.
A. .L SANDER.SOX. Jnile22lt:a " Audiior.
E.
PROFESSIONAL.
C.UBEADT,
^ . ATTOBNEY AT LAW,
Ollice No. Hi East Kingstreet,second lloor, over Sklles' new Dry Goods store, Lancaster. Pa.
CHARLES K. OAST, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Onire. No. 27 East Orange street, Lancaster, apt) '70 IT	
UW. rATTEBSOX. ATrORNBY AT LA'W, UiLS removed his oIQco to :No. 08 East KlDg-St. jipUS ly-'liii-22
Dp. ICOSE.V'niM.ER. JR., A'lTOKNEY AT LA'W. Olliee with A. Herr Smith, esq., .South Queen Btreet. -It-lf
1?U.Kit,fi, PTCrEK. ' ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Odice In Wldmyer's Ilow, No. 4 8outh DUEest., Lancnster.Pa. Pensions and Bounty Clalma promptly attended to. fjy ly-tfil'05
J~XO. I'VitEA'; "
ATTORNKY AT LAW. Olllce with O. J. Dickey, esq.. No. 21 a. tiueen street, Lancaster, Pa. • ¦ •'
¦ Xi-lt
ATroKNEY AT LAW, Olllce No. 0. north   corner of Court Avenne. uear the Court Iiouse. l.aiiejLster, Pa.      fje2'fiy
Ci.no.x r. Euv;
O .\TTOnNEY AT LAW.
Olllce with N. Ellmaker, esq.. North Duko Bt., Lancaster, I'a. [sep21 '87 Iy
¦IXr ASUIXtlTOX W. IIOPKIXS,
W                          ATTORNEY AT I^AW, No. 28 North Doke Htreet, Laucuster, Pa. aug .10      .  tr-40
WII.I,IA» TIIO.nA.S, ATIORNKY AT LAW. Ollico with   Hon. O. .1. Dickey, No. 21 Soulh tiueen slreet, LaneiLsler, Pn. apr20 tf iEl
TOIIX M. ZELLEK,  '
J     SURVEYOR An6 CONVEYANCER, Iso gives particular attention to clerklugsales "j!;'i?/„7,','eS7tS;:' '•''"""' =" anydlJtancI
L^^s;,^cgga;^':i'i^^gg?.^g^^^f>^
ATI'ORNEY AT LAW, No. 8.Sonth Duke st., Lnnensler. special at¬ lention p.'iiiltoproRiirin^oropiio.'tlniifdi.scharg- es of debtors in bnnkruptey, prooOuidprfsent- lUlon or cljilras, rendering i>rofcsHion»I osbIh- tiincc lo ns.si<;necH, und iilT business In short counecteU with procoediuK-'J i'> voluntary or Invohintary bankruptcy, whether before tho JRegister or the United HlftteK Courts. Parties li3teMdIuj;toUi]:e tlic benefit of the law will u^uiilly llnd It'iidvantni^eous tn bave a prelim- narv consultation. Juul9-tr-3I
A. BENJAMIN F. ROWE
respectfully informs the public thnt be will at¬ teud lo Crying iSales of real und personal prop¬ erty in any purtof theeonnty.
Those wishinc his servieos are reqnestcd to apply to GERARDUS CLARKSON, Eaq., at the Prothonotary's Ofllce, wbo will promptly au tend to the ntatter.
I.eU«rs addressed to mo at SraithviUe P.O. Lancjisier couuty, wilt be promptly attendedto
DIl. A. A. R<»Tir. HOMOKOPATHIC PIIVSICIAN, respectfully oHerslils professional services to tlie ciii/.i!ns of Lnncnster city nnd snrround- infr couutry.   Calls Into tlic country proinptly atliMidwl to. 0!-'FICE.&[ EAST KING.
OFFICE HOURS-Froiu S to 10 a. m., 1 to 3 ' p. in., and (! to 7 p. m.
KEFEitE^-CES—T, F. Allen. JL D., Ncw Vork; 11. N. Mnrtin,.\LU.,rhiladeip!iin: Cftr- roll Ounhnm, M. D., Sew Vorlc; O. U. Gau.-e, M. 1).. I'lilladclphhi; M. Friese, Al. I)., Ilarrl.-i- buru. Pa. aiilCSmi!!
pTre"& life inS 0 r ancX
XHE A3IEKICAS
liUc Insnrauce Company
OF PHII.ADELPHrA.
.\LEX. WHILLDIN, Presideut.
J. S. WII.SON, Secretary.
GROWTH OP TIIE AJIERiaVN.
Oalo. Jlo.l'ollcle:
isiio, Dec. ;n,      flill, 1801,      •¦       ],]2n!
1S«7,        ." T,(i.5li|
ISOS, " W,2ii-.i'
Amt. Insured.
$1,000,-150 00
1,200,000 Ofl
18,S1:!,47S !W
2-l,-5n,ftlil ,0!)
TIIE AJllciuCAN
Issues rollcles on all dcslrahlo plans, at Inw rates, and for security land promptness in mcetlujr losses Is n»surpas.sed by any com pany In liio Uniled SUUcs.
BOARD OP TRUSTEES.
TION-. JAM ICS POLLOCK.! E.x-Gov. of Penn'a,
DlreclorU. S. Mini.    iJ* J. EDGAR THOMSON, PresIdentPenn'aR.R,,
lEWHoulhThlr.Ist. GEOUGE NUGENT. Gentleman,  rosldenoa,
Germantown. ALBERT C. ROBERTS, President Fourth Na¬ tional Bnnk. PHILl I* B. MINGLE, Seeil Merchant, lOri Slar-
j£et street. iroN-. ALEX,G. CATTELL,U.S.Senator,Mer-
ohant, L7 Nortll Wnlur st. ISAAC ILVALVAlumr, Attorney-at-Law, 503
Withmt si. L, M. WHILLDIN, Merchant, 20 and i: South
Front St. HENUY IC.BKNNETT. Merchant. 715 South
Foiirtli St. GEOUGE W. HILL, Presideut Seventh Na-
tinualBank. JAMKS L. CLAGSOUN, President Commer-
chtlNaliomilBank. JOHN   W-AJSAMAKEn,  Oak  Hall  Ciolhlng
IIouse,s. K, corner^ixlIl and Market sis.,
und HIS and S20 Cliestnul wt.
aUf;I8-Rsep29tf
H. K GARA. ARent, Gii4 E. King St., Lancaster,
€OI.U.MIsrA     1»NCKAX(!E     COMPANY JAMJAItY 1, ItiGH.
CAPITAL AND ASSETS, S670 832T;J.
THIS Company continues to insure Build¬ ings, Meruliiiudise, and other property, againsl lo^isaud daina;:e by lire, on tlie mu¬ tual plan eilher for a casli premium or pre¬ mium nole.
EIGHTH  ANNUAL   REPORT. CAIMTAL ASI) IN'COilK. Am'tof premium notes..,...i:S(p{,r)75!« Less amount expired 21ti,:;:i9 '2t)l
Cash rccolpts, less commissions in'IjT Wi,7iSl.'J
Lon ns .i „  Iii.tiOO Oy
Due from ngenlsand olhers  4,1^1 I-t
Estimated uet assessment No, 7  2ti,(X)0 Ou
Sr-lLllM JUI CONTIIA.
Losses and expenses paid in IS(i7.     B(v22 i;i
Losses adjusted, not due      Hi.5Wi l:i
Balanijc oi^ Capital and Assets Jan. 1, ISGS i C70,Sn2 RI
5751.13) W) A. S. GREEN. President. Gboroe YouTTO.Jr.. SecreJary. Miciiaei. S. Siiujian. Treasurer.
DIRECTORS: U. T. Rvon, William Patton,
Jobn Pendrlch, Jobu W. Sieacy,
IL G. Minich, Geo, Yonnp, jr.
Samuel F, EUerlolii,      Nlchohis McDonald
AmosS. Green
Iliram Wiisou
John B. Baehman, Robert Crane,
I, iiobert.Crau
Michael S. Slinnmn. For iusuranceaud olhorpiirtlcularsapply to UliHUa: RIFK, Real Estate, Collection A Insurance Agents, No. ii Norlh Duke street, Lancasler. nov i tf-5t
AVI>ITOU-.S XOTH'K.   ¦
Asaiijned ICsttile of John Jj. IJiiiklej* and %Vil*e.
TIIEundersUinod Auditor, appointed hy the Oourt of Onumon Picas, of Liin<!;isler co., to disirlbutu tbe Iialauce remaiaiiiK iu the hnnd.s of .fesse Lnndis. esq,, .-Vssiguee of said John L, Binkley and wife.loand amouglhose legally eniUled lo the same, will meet Mio^e Inlerested in said'dislribution. In tiic Library Itoom of tlie Coun. IIous*-, iu the city of Lan¬ caster, on TUESDAY, ,IUIA' Tith, 1S70, at '2 o'clock, p. m. All Interested parties aro Invi¬ ted to attend.
ANDREW M. FKANTZ. JuuS-1130 AudiKir.
AS.SIGXEES' NOTICi:;
Assigned estate of Edwin Stubbs and
ISIury H. his wife, of Fulton twp.,
Lanca.ster eounty.
EDWIN RTUUUS.of Fulton ii>\vnship, hav¬ ing; by tlucdof voluntary asHi^tnuient. tialed MAY it, ISTO, a.ss)(;ncd and Iranslerreii all iiis estjitc and elfecLH to the underpinned, fiu* tho hcnetlt <tf tho creditors of the said Etlwln Stuhtis, tiiey thereforeglve nol ice to all persons Indebled to said assiccnor, tomidce payment to the undersigned ^vltlioui- delay, and those havlui; claims to present Miein to
COOPJCKKTUBIJ^, S. W, V. BOYD, Assignees, residing in Fulion lwp. mylG-fit-SS
XOTICK.
In-tile Court of Common Picas of Lancaster County:
B'jtANCES ANNA Bitl.NK.
hy her next friend John   April T., ls70,No,T.
K. Ebcrleln, j-     Suiipcena in
v.s, ¦  ¦ Divorce, .
Thomas Ri Buixic.
rno THOMAS «. BRINIT. tiie iihove-namea X. respondent: You are hereby notified that hy virtnoofa commission Issued outof the Court of Common Pleas of Lantiaster Couniy, and to me direeied, th« testimony on tin: part of tlie petitioner In the above case will beta¬ ken hy me on SATURDAY, JULY Ilith, 1870, between lho hour.*: of one o'clock a. m, and ten o'clock p. m., at the olllce of H, M, North.esq.,in the borongh of Columbia", when and where you can attend if y on see proper., E. D. NOltTH,
Columhir, Juno 13,1870.       Commissioner,   .
June 15  5t-:tl
 E.STKAY 3r4»TICC.
QTRAYED away from tho promises of the O Hubscrlber, Inthe village of Brownsto\TO. AVest Earl township, Lancaster conn¬ ly, a MULEY cow; of brlndlo color- any Information glTen to the o\ynpr.U^^^^-^ so that he may recover her, will be thimkuuTy received, SAMUEL HOFFMAN,
Junl5 3»t3l Brownstown,
KOTICE TO SMRaIIERS.
THE attention offarmers is called to llie fol- lowim; low rates charei-d by Mie LANCAS¬ TEB CITY ANPOnJNTY FIHE INSURANCE COMPANY on Farm Barns and contenls:
I yi-. 5 iTs. nrkk or Stoue Barns. SO a. or more
from iiouse, per Slot' i>c       Tiio
Frame Uarns, SO feet or more from House, per SIOO a5c    SI 00
Contents at same rates.   Dwellings and con¬ tenls also Insured.
The above systc-m wiJi j)rovo In tho end to bo cheaper than an insuraneo in mu lual Pomp:inh'fi. NO ASSl'::SK,\IKNT.S AUE MADE, and ample securily is guantnleed in il well invested capital of Siw.f.HM), wliieh, loveth- er with a large surplus. Is held for the iirotec¬ tion oftliose Insuring in tlieeomvtany. Losses are seltled as soon as adjusted—no need lo wait until tl'.e money i.-ti'tdlected by Jissess- menlM.  Ample funds ou hand.
DIRECTOHS: Thos. E, Franklin,       II, p. Shenk,
I'resldent. Trensurer.
Jolui U AUee, M. D„   H, (;;*rpeMlcr. M. a, Jacoii Bausman. J.M, FraHtz,
(loor^e K. Ueed, A, i:. Uobprts,
F, Shnider, Juliii C. Hager.
E. nU(.)WN, Secretary, Jul 21-1 f laueaster.
A.   B.  KAUFMAN.
AGENT FOR
The  OI<I   Coiuieollcut Itfiilnal JLife InHiiraiiioe Compnity.
Surplus over    -    -    -    524,000,000 00.
ALL the proflts aro divided .among the poli¬ cy holders, Tho .dividends are the largestof any Life Insurance Conipany. OFFICE. NO. 1 EASTORA.VGE RTREF/T. marl::-lf-17 L.ineaster. Pa.
ALLEN   CrUTJIRIE, lEou.«ic  and   Sign   Paiuter
AND
rAi'Kst 12a:;%gi!:k,
THR nndersiirned respectfully Informs hi.-* frieuds anu the public, thai, he hns eslali* Ushed bimselfin NOltTH QFEEN STItEEf, half a Kfiuare atiovethe IVnii'a lUilrond Ue- itot, In tiie city of Lancaslcr. where he is pre¬ pared to do all kiuds of HOLS1-: AND SIGN PAINTING.   Also,
OIL fSKAIjaXO, in Oalc, Maple. Walnut, Ac,
Having lind thirty years* experience In lho abovo business, lie llatiers bimself tltat Ito cannot be surpassed in this line, either In this city or any other phice. Graining promptly atteuded lo for the trade in uU parts of the country,
PAl'EB HANCISG.
Paper furnlslied and pul on by conti-act. By this method any person can know what lho worlc will cost before It Is done, 43" First filass workmen engnged lo aitend lo thW branch of business.
By giving his personal altenlion to all or¬ ders, lie hopes lorender'satlsfnelion to Ills pa¬ trons. ALLEN GUTHHIE.
Ites id once—No. 29 East Lemon Street, Lan¬ caster, Fa,
AGENT FOU THE OLD MANHATTAN   I-IFE   lASURAXCE  IO.
mar 26] NEW YORK, L' Jt 1**
¦.:^.^.>'«.- ^^;ri^j:^^-i^^;^v>.