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•9 VOLXiM. LANOASTER, PA. WEDNESDAY JUNE 17, 1868. NO. 31 PUBUSHED ETEBS WBDHESDAY, At No. 4 Horth ftneeii Streat, LancMteJ-, Pa. T£IlMS-ei2.00 A YEAB IX ABTAjrCB. JSO. A. mESTAND & E. M. KLINE, Editors and Proprietors. ""'„,^BOB(jaTaE'WMna;^ -? Some hearta go tinngerlng tXciUb^lte^world, And never nod tbe love Ui^'SoeK-; Some Ups WltU pride or scorn are curled. To liide the pwn they may not speak. Tho eye may Hash, the mouth may smile. The voice In gladdest music thrill. And yet beneath them all the while The hungry heart be plnleg still. These linow their doom, and walk their wny Wllh level steps and steadfast eye.*?, JJor strive with Pate, nor weep nor pray; While others, not ao sadly wise. Are mocked by phantoms evernioro. And lured by .seemings of deliglit, Fair to tho eye, but at the core Holding but bitter dust and blight. I see them gaze from wistful eyes, 1 mark their sign on fading elieeks; I hear them brcalho In Rmotliered sighs, And note the grief that never speaks; For them no might redresses wrong. No eye with pity Is Impearied. O, misconstrnod aud suffering long, O hearLs that hunger lluongll the world: For you doea life's dull desert hold No fountain shade, no date grove fair. No gush of waters clear aud cold, Eut saucy reaches, wide and bare. The foot may fall, tho soul maj* faint, And weigh to earth the weary frame. Yet stll! ve make no weak complaint. And speak uo word of grief or blame. O, eager eyes which gaze afar! 0,arms which clasp the empty air! Not all uuuiarkcd your sorrows are. Not all unpitlcd your despair. Kmite, patient Ups so prondl.v dumb- When life's fruil tent at last is furled. Your glorious recompense shall come, O, hearts that hunger tiirough tho worhl: DEBOEAH'S ROMANCE. " Deboi'.ili!"—motlier's voiee raug out sbarp amt clear from the kitchen, as thougli in urgent haste—"Deborah, ruu here quick, will thee?" I flew down to the kitchen in a mo¬ ment, where luothcr stood at the table Witll her hands plunged in a drift of flour, and her eyes lixed anxiously on the oven-door whence a sliglit smoke was issuing. '* Open the oven-door quick, will thee, Deborah '.' those pies are spoiled, I fear!" and as I hurried the dooi-s wide open, little spluttering pools of boilingsugar, hissing aud seeth¬ ing like youug volcanoes, greeted my eyes, while tlie contraband shade of thc rich jiastc of the apple-pies, aud thc properly yellow coat of the pumpkin- pies, iiiiffiug up iuto huge blaek swell¬ ings liere anil there, seemed to tell a direful story to the patient hauds that had beeu Itihoring since sunrise, and now beheld their crowning glory spoil¬ ed. For it was tbe day before thanks¬ giving, and mothec and I had been busy all tho moruiug—mother baking and I puttingthe house in perfect order iu autieipationof expected eoinpany on the morrow. Brother Solon was coining home, and with him Gerald Haynes, of whom I had heard so mueli; Gerald Haynes, Salon's ehuin, and fellow- clerk, and bcaii itlcal united in one! No wonder I longed to see him. AVouldn'tany girl iu hersenses if sho heai'd a young mau praised as I had heard hira; his person, his chavacter, his talents, all seemed to Solon perfec¬ tion itself, and, of course, I should be dazzled. X, a little country girl, who kuew nothing beyond house-work, and a littlcschooling, and whose knowledge ofthe worlti was limited to thevery slight glimpse of it to be oblained in a little rural town in Maine. iSo that wheu the letter came an- uouiieiug that .Solon had invited Geraltl to come and speud Thanksgiving with llim at his country home—for Solan re¬ tained a strong love' for that home in .spite ofall the city glare—and that the invitation had been accepted, it threw mother antl me into quite a fever of ex¬ citement ; mother, because she was so anxious for her reputation as the per¬ fect housekeeper Solon had ahvays de¬ clared her to be, aud I—well, I was ex¬ cited for various reasous. And, first ofall, I began to wonder if he woultl think me a little green coun¬ try girl! I looked over my dresses, wondering what I should wear. There wasmynewcrimson merino I knewthat became me, but Solon had pronounced it too gay the last time he was home ; i he said he liked " quiet" colors better, and that Gerald did too. Then I look¬ edat my old brown dress which 1 had worn for two winters; it looked fairly dowdy, and the braid was fagged out round the edge. No, I couldn't wear that, so the crimson it must be, for "ay wardrobe was limited and my choice only lay betwen those two, unlessi dared put ou my very best, my drab silk, and l kuew mother woulil hold up her liands in horror at the idea; so with a sigh I took down thedress, wishing the sbadel somuch admired wheni bought it was more " quiet," and wondering what he would think ofit. Then I thought of my unfortunate name—Deborah! There were only two of us, aud why did raother give us such dreatiful names! I never heard mine called without thinking what Fauny May said, Fanny lives iu Boston, and is a cousin to Sarah Lawtou, our next- door neighbor. Fanny said to me, after we got acquainted with each other, " Wliat a pity it is that your raother gave you such a name, Debbie! When i used to hear Sarah talk about De¬ borah Waypo, I always used to itnagine atall, gauutold maid—aboiit forty years old." Perhaps I may tell the whole she said without seeming vain. She added, I'I never thought of your being sucli a charming little wild rose as you are!" Jfow I don't get such compliments as that very often. Plenty of people tell rae I am rosy, and plump, aud " trig," but no one has ever said anything like that. Onl.y onee old farmer Daniels oame near it in his homely way, for he saitl to mother as he rested his tired old franio on our front door steps, and I handed him tho plate of doughnuts niother took down from the shelf; " Tiiat gal of yonrn is as pooty as a posy. Mis' Wa^'ue. It doe-i my old eyesgood to look ather!" But, ohdear! Ithink I take naturally to reflnement; atfd these honest but ungraniniatical coun¬ try neiglibors sometimes disgust rae. We were all ready and on the watch when the stage drove up tothe door; mother in her neat drab dress and spoi- lesi cap, and I in my crimson me.-ino and a white bib-apion. Solon always liked me to wear aprons. I peeped throughthe blindsaudsaw them alight from tho outside where they had been riding. Solon's boyish figure leajjed down first, and a tall, manly form fol¬ lowed, which made my heart bound— I don't know why, I'm sure'.' Mother met thein first, and lining back trembling until Iheard, "Where's sis?" and tlien I eonld no longer keep " back, aud rushed to Solon's outstretch¬ ed arms, antl reeeived antl returned his warm kisses. When'I was releastjd to lie presenteil to Mr. Htiynes, I just glanced up in liisfaeeaslputmy hand in llis. warm clasp, but that lopk was pnough to cet my foojish heart to flut¬ tering again. Oh, he v/as sodifrercut from our country youths with their shy, awkward manners, antl nasal voices. His very bov/ denoted the dif¬ ference—much more his voiee and words. Well, we managed to get iuto the parlor; and mother, to my gre.it re¬ lief, devoted herself to Mr. Haynes; ana I waa glad when his great brown eyes were taken oil' my face, for I felt the blushes burning thero, and kuew he would set rae down al once aa an astonishing little piece ol' rnstioily. So I becanio quite at case when his broad baok was toward me, and ven¬ tured on giving Solon two or three little impromptu huge, safe in the idea that hc could not see out of the back ot his head, when lie was so busily engaged talking with mother, tpo, un¬ til I happened to glance in the glass opposite, just after Solon had taken my fitce between his hands aud kissed me twice pr ^rice, for we dearly love each other, as an only brother and sister slioultl—when, I say, on raising my eyes, I saw fhat th.e ^j'hole scene wus Eietured before him; arid i).ltbough his ack was turned fo us, his eyes were fixed upon the glass with a curlqtis look wliich matlo me glai} to run out of the room. Pretty soon mother oauieout, "Uow, Deborah," shesaid, "theecan.stayinthe other room and entertain them, and I win see to dinner. I don't need thee, now, everything is all ready." Boin I had to go again , but thia time the flwnerof those searching eyes was seat¬ ed on the sofa, looking over my album. !4fter one assuring glance, to see if he was really entertaining hiuiself, I took the chair BoIdd beckoned me to, by his side, and submitted td a oatechisn^ re¬ specting all our friends. But fearing wo had a listner, I was soabsurdly con¬ strained and atlSly granimatical, lest I might shock his t^tidlous taste, that at last Solon began to stare with sur¬ prise, "Why, Debbie!" heexclaimed "what in the world is the matter? Have you swallowed a grammar, or a dictionary, or both ? I never thought my little sister was inclined to be pedantic be¬ fore—let me look at you 1" And he faced about and held my face up, burn¬ ing with blushes, to see if he could de¬ tect anything unusual there. I oould not forbear^Iancing at our visitor, to seeif hewas observing the ridiculous picture I knew I was making,.feeling convinced that he knew the truth, that I was overpowered by his presence; but that glance revealed the truth to Solon, ior he burst out laughing as he exclaimed, "Why, Gerald, Idobelieve the child is afraid of you! She glances over to your quarters as a little mouse might look at the fiercest cat, as thougii she thought you might pounce upon her suddenly at any time. Why, chick¬ en," he went on, as the album closed with a thump, and I felt rather than saw the tall figure striding toward us, while the merry laugh of our guest in¬ creased my confusion, "you needn't mind Ger; he's a great big fellow, I know, but he's harmless as a kitten." "But kittens are death on mice," in¬ terposed Gerald, still laughing, "and that won't reassure her, of course. Say I am aa harmless as a caterpiller, or the most innocent little creature you can think of; tell her I am much more afraid ofher than slioisofme—forlam naturally very modest, as you well know." Just then, to my relief, mother came in to call us to dinner, and the attrac¬ tions of the Iable for a while occupied the whole attention of our company; for Solon saitl it was such a dinner as his mother, and no one else in tlie world, could "ge't up;" whieii gratified niother immensely, of course, though she only .said calmly: "Now, Solon, don't thee go to talking so foolish. It's only that it's a homo that makes thee thiuk every I lling is so much better here than thee lias it at Boston." But Mr. Haynes supported Solon so strongly in his opinion that mother was forced to let thein have it their own way, and yielded with hcr usual quiet smile. When the short afternoon had drawn to its close, Solon said; "Now we'll haveagood old-fashioned sleigh-ride to¬ night. What do you saj;, Gerald? This snow is too great a luxury to us to be unimproved. We ilon't see such snow- as this in Boston—do we, Ger'.'" "Nottobe mentioned in the same breath," said Mr. Haynes; "such spark- ling wliitcness is altogether too pure for the city. Ours is yellowish-brown, of the consistency of meal; this is crisp, clean, and sparkles like myriatls of lit¬ tle gems, liow the moon touches it up! Daino Nature isin full dress to¬ night, and has donned all her dia¬ monds." As he said this he stood by the wiudow, holding back the curtain with one liaiid, and turned to me as thougii inviting me to come too, and look at the scene without. I went to his side, niurinuring some confused re¬ ply; for his eyes were bent on mine with an earnest look that ilisconcerted me fur a moment until he had laid his hand ou my head, ami exclaimed, frankly, " Whata litlle thing you nre —a mere child! I always thought So¬ lon's sister Deborah wasa very difl'er¬ ent person from you. Are you quite sure you nre she?" His unconventional touo and laugh entirely restored me to myself, and I answered as frankly as ho had spoken, "Oh, I know what sort of person you thought I wonld be, if you thonght about it at all!" " Now tell me," he answered, folding his arms, and looking curiously tlown at me, "and I'll promise toacknowledge ifyou tell truly; for certiiinly I tlid think about it, but not so much as I should have ilone if I had knowii the truth," he added in a lower tone, whieh agaiu set my blootl to scoreliiug my face; nut I would not be rendered dumb by that, so I answered demurely, " You thought I would be a tall, gauntfemaleofuncortain age, with high cheek-bones and squeaky shoes, in a huge, dark calico apron; now didn't you, Mr. Haynes?" "I really hadn't got so far as the apron," hereplied, l.iughing,"although if I had known what a bewitching lit¬ tle article of female apparel they might be made, I should have done so, no doubt; but I confess I had imagined some such person as you desoribe, only a little more attractive; for Iknew my friend Solon here had an airection for that sister, and he is fastidious in his quiet way. I might have known he had something at home to make him so. He paused a moment, during which I was deliberating whether it was my duty to sit down myself, or offer him a chair, being quite convinced that one of the two would be quite proper under the circumstances, for I had been hard at work all day, when he saitl, with a look down at rae that drove all fatigue out of m J' mind; "Instead of which I find a little browii haired fairy, in a glowing warm- hued dress, a most captivating little white apron, aud—" " Insteatl of whicii you find only a poor little couutry girl, in a dress that Brother Solon dislikes because it is fiery —a girl who even doesn't know liow to entertain hcr brother's visitors witliout talking about herself," I exclaimed, in¬ terrupting him, for I would nothave it go on so any longer. Tlieu Solon came back aud reported: " Wecan eaeh have ahorseandasleigh, anda companion, if we can get one, Gerald, or we can take the double sleigh and all go together. What do you like best?" " If Miss Deborah will go with me I prefer a single sleigh," he replied, glanc¬ ing laughingly at me. " I um still boy enough to bo fond of driving, and it is a privilege I don't often have. Will you indulge me by goiug with me? Do you think you can trust yourlife in my hands?" Now, of eourse, I wauted to go. What young girl wouldn't have had her heart jump at the olTer of a sleigh- ride on a bright moonlight night, with capilal sleighing, and such a compan¬ ion? but I made-believe I wasn't as pleased as I really felt, and asked de¬ murely if he was sure he knew how to drive—if he had ever tlrlven any; add¬ ing ;that I was not fond.of bpipg thrown into a suow drift. " Preposterous ! " o!(olaimed Mr. Hayuos, wlule molhor, who had just eome in from tho kitchen, stood smil¬ ingly by. ".Iust think, Mrs. Wayne, of hcr asking a great long follow like rae ifl ever drove a horse! I think I blood ran riot in my veins. Something —the exhilarating air, the rapid motion or the brilliancy of-my companion- had transformed me lor the tune. I had Sling, laughed, and talked with all the abandon of a child, aud Gerald Haynes had also become transformed into a hoy; andwe gave ourselves up to the spell of the hour; so that when his arm stole arouud my waist, draw¬ ing me close to his side, with a half-in¬ telligible remark to the eft'ect that there must he no room for cold air to creep in between us, and he asked if he inight be allowed to claim me forhis little sis¬ ter too, as he had nono in the wide world, I nestled close to him, and frank¬ ly expressed my pleasure at the retiuest. And when we rode lingeringly home at last (I sighing in my lieart as home grew nearer and nearer,) and we drove up to thegate, I did not resist as he took me in his arma and ran up the ptitli aud to the very door with me ; and I'm afraid I only turned my face away a very little as he pressed a rapid, thrill- iug kiss on my lips—a kiss that burned there the whole night; for I had never received such a one before in my whole life. On Friday we all went up to Uncle Ralph's antl spent the day. My tall, farnier cousins, honest and manly, but uncouth, unconsciously deepened my admiration for Gerald. X could not help contrasting them as they stood in the yard examining tho " stock," Ben and John ill their coarse working clothes, with their broad, stooping shoulders, and their huge brawny hands, red and coar.'^o from hard work, their heavy cow¬ hide boots, and their hearty but coarse voices, and Gerald, with his tall, erect iigure showing to such advantage in his perfcct-filtiiigsuit, his polished boots, and his hands whiter than mine as I had noticed witli shame the night be¬ fore. And yot, strong us this contrast was, it was uot the dress alone, but the clear well-modulated tones, the refine¬ ment of face autl manuer, that struck rae with sucli force that a sickening feeling rushed over me as I thought, must I spend my days among such peo¬ ple when I so long for lefined society! I W.IS growingposilively miserable over the thought, when mother's hand was laid on my shoulder; and lier voice roused a little from her wonted sereni¬ ty, exclaimed, " Why, Deborah, child! didn't thee hear Aunt Ruth ? She has been talking to thee this half hour, and thee looks .as though thee hadn't heard a word. What does thee see uncom¬ mon out there!" Oh, I ditl see "uncommon thiugs." I was feasting my eyes on what was luxur.v for me, but witll a great sigh I choked baek my feelings, aud tried to lake an interest iu good Aunt Ruth's humdrum talk, striving to remember exactly my recipe for the sweet pickles I had jnst been making. But it was very hard. On Saturday Sarah asked us all to tea. I mean Gerald, Solon and mo. In the evoning we played games until nine, wheu wc dared no longer indulge, for we had been brought up to strict obser¬ vance of Saturday night; and even to tieseerate it until niue was an unusual occurence; but Sarah's father and mother had gone to a neighboring town to s))enil Sunday, and lier oldest sister, Martha, who kept house, was evitlently so taken with Mr. Haynes that she not only countenanced usiu our dissipation, but participated in it, performiug her forfeits with great zest. As for Solon aud myself we strangled our conscien¬ ces, and enleretl into the games with al! our liearts uutil the bell rung for nine, when mother's face loometl up boforo me so reproachfully that my courage failetl, and I declared I coiiUl play no longer. "Oh, btit you have a forfeit to pay first," cxeiaimed Geraltl, starting up. " You are not to get rid of that so eas¬ ily," and he marched nie up to Solon, and don't be lenient now, give a good tough one if it's to be her last." " I ilon't know ofa tougher one thau to propose that she shall go through a marriiige-ceremony, as I've often heard her say she should never be married ; and Sarah has one to pay too, she must go through with the same." " I haven't chosen you for my judge yet," .said Sarah, saucily, turning her radiant face to him ; hut I seized her arm, exclaiming,— " Very well, let's be inarriod to each other," and wc instantly walked up to Gerald, retjuestiug him to tie the knot. " The idea!" exclaimed Gerald, with well-feigned horror. " You know very well that two women cau't live in oue iiouse, aud the idea of being tied toeach other for life! I shan't consent to act the parson, but I will olVer my services in auother character—as bride¬ groom," and bel'ore I knew what he was about he had me undor his arm, while Solon bore ofTSarah, and we were mar¬ shalled before Martha, who in a re¬ markable Ct of eotigeniality had enter- edinto the joke, and immediately com¬ menced the words ofa mock-raarrhige- service then in vogue for sucli occa- supper was all ready; bnt when moth¬ er came out, as she always preferred to do, to make the tea herself, there was¬ n't a drop of water in the tea-kettle. "Why, Deborah, child, what ails thee ? Thee has acted all day as though thee hnd lost thy senses. Thee had bet¬ ter come down out of the clouds, aud leornTio be a better housekeeper before thee goes up again." The color rushed to ray face, for in spite of mother's quiet ways I knew sbe was a keen observer, and litlle es¬ caped her sharp eye; so by great effort I succeeded in arousing myself to my usual interest in the afl'airs of the house, resolviug to wait until I could be by myself before I lived over the past three days again. But my solace came. Every letter from Solon had au addition which gave it a new charm to my eyes; eagerly as I had always iveloomed thoso letters before, they were now thrice welcome. At first it was a message, then a post¬ script, iu a bold, manly hand; then it came till by itself—a letter to the "dear littfe brown-haired sister away ofl' in Maine;" and so it wenton, until I be¬ gan to Hnd thatl was two per-ions, liv¬ ing two lives. The one swept, dusted, made puddings aud pies as of old, chat¬ ted with the country folk, among Ihom but not of thera, trying to take iuterest in the petty affiiirs of a harmlessly gos¬ sipping neighborhood. The other tried to keep herself dainty and fresh to please one who had so often spoken of prizing those things in her; she studi¬ ed late at night and early iu the morn¬ ing that he might tliink her improved when they met—as he assured her they shouid soon meet—and she lived in a woi'ld of her own fashioning, surround¬ ed by intelligenee and refinement, till¬ ing her heart by pondering on these things. So the days weut hy, and the hot midsummer came, when wearied city people throng out to the cool retreats of country side- and sea-shore. And the sultry August days brought us our guests again. Solon, taller, more grace¬ ful aud manly, improved in looks and appearance; and the other!—well ifto my eyes he was perfect before, then I demonstrated the truth of that wliich the world had declared impossible— that perfection will admit of increase. If I trembled aud shrank back when he came before, still more did I do so now; now that I was so much raore auxious to appear well in iiis eyes!— now that he had become so much to me! Aud, as I stood at my old post of ob¬ servation, behind the blind, I watched his affectionate greeting of mother, with eager eyes, while even ra.v cap¬ tious fancy could detect no difTerence in her reception of the two. But his eager gianoo shot by her, through the doorway, aud his ardent face anticipated Solon's first question, " Where's Debbie, mother ?" So with ono glance at my own blushing face, I went forward to meet them. As before, I was taken to Solon's loving embrace, nnd when 1 was released and turued to the other, I gave one swift glance at his faee. There was so much in it that my own eyes fell. I dared not look again; and we met with a strong, flrm pressure of hands—a grasp that seem¬ ed never willing to loose itself; and that wasall. But afterward, when the flrst bustle of their coming was ovor, and motlier had left the room for a momeut, Solon followed hor, and wc were left alone, I remember I was stantling by the win¬ dow, carelessly breaking the leaves from an ivy whicii latticed the win¬ dow, not daring to speak or look for a moment. Then, summoning all my courage, I turued sudilenly to address him; there he stood, close by me, with eyes brimful of love aud longing. I could read it plainl.'T; and as I stood before him mute, fascinateil by his look, without the power to withdr.aw my eyes from his, hestretelieil out his arms to me, with unutterable longing in his eyes and voice, as lie said: "Will my darling come to me now, as she never came before? Not tus ray little sister, but as my own true, loving wife, from whicii nothing but death sliall part me forever. Will she come?" .\nil in a moment I was folded close to the heart that was all ray own. My longings were satlsfled; my unrest quieted; I had found my home. must manage to upset her to pay for that." " If you threaten I can stay at home," I said. " Whicii signifies that il I don't you will go," he rejoined. "Thee musn't mind what that child says, Gerald," said mother, with a be¬ nign look at him, that maile m'e sure that she had already gone over to So¬ lon's sitle, and was deep in tidiniration of hini; for mother always thiuks just as Solon does of everybody; 'but I am very different. I choose to form ray own opinions, aiul lam not so easily taken capliye, yoq know. " Who'll thee ask to go, .Sojon ?" said mother, while a rapid telegraphic glance shot between Solon and me, in¬ tercepted by a pair of dark eyes that fixed themselves most pertinaciously ou my face. " TheehadbetteraskMary Bowman. She was saying the other day that sho would like a sleigli-ride, and liadn't had ono for tho winter." "Well, but mother dear, you know how her niother alwaj'S worries when Mary goes anywhere. I am afraid it would mako liur seriously unhappy lest Mary should get oold or be upset. I don't think I'd better ask her to-uight. Perhaps I eau get some one nearer home," and Solon shot out of the door like a flash. " I'll warrant he's gone after Barah Lawtou," said mother, " and she can't even make her own clotlies! There's Mary Bowman does every stitch of sew¬ ing for the family with herown hands, and takes eare of her sick raother; and there isn't a better housekeeper in the village. Thee remembers lier dinner last fourtliday, Deborah," and poor mother gave a little sigh as she thought of her disappointed plans ai(d of Ijer possible future daughter-in-law. Well,-wewent. Solon camein bring¬ ing Sarah with him, her golden hair and blue eyes peeping out from the depths bf her huge " pumpkin-hood;" and as she ran up stairs with me to get ready, we eouflded to each other our delight nt the prospect before us. How bright the moon shone, and how the snow sparkled! how silvery- sweet rang out the bells on the still air, as we glided along, tucked in snugly and ^yarmly with bufl'alo-robes and blankets, ahd hot soap-stones at our feet. I must not try to tell all that wassaid during that delightful ride. I can on. siona, "Bemember you are my little wife," whispered Gerald, as ho detained me for .tmoiueuthefore weetneredourO'.vn door that night; " give me a husband's privilege," and once niorehs pressed ou my unresisting lips a loug, long kiss. Neither did the remembrance of that kiss leave me, even in my dreanjs, that night. On Sunday we went in the forenoou to mother's meeting, where Geraltl aud Solon sat side bj' side, in most decor¬ ous silence, across the aisle from me, through the long forenoon, for the Spirit moved not, until just hefore the hand¬ shaking a good and saintly-faced sister arose, aad with peace hreatliing in ev¬ ery line ot lier face, saivl a few words of Christian consolation and encourage¬ ment. In the afternoon .Solon, Gerald and I rode over to the Congregational church, some two miles away, for which Solon had a decided preference, possibly be¬ cause of the faet that Sarah Lawton's contralto voiee lent its music to the choir; but I am always charitable to- w.ards .Solon; so I won't insist upon that as the sole attraotion. In the eveningmother had one of her bad headaches, antl went to bed early. After I had bathed her head, anil given her thp caniphor-bottle, she said: " Now, thee go right back, Deborah, and stay with Uer.ald and Solon. I will call thee ifl w.ant anything." So baok I went to *tlto sitting-room. Then Solon, after a fow resistless move¬ ments and glances out of the window, exclaimed, as though ithad at tliatmo- raent occurred to him, that he supposed lie ought to go and bid Sarah good-bye, as they would be oil' so early in the inorning. So we were left alone, Ger¬ ald and I. He maue mc cmne and sit beside him, and he held my little red hands in his own shapely white one, while I blushed at the contr.ist foolishly enough. He told tne of their city life, of the opera and dther amusements; of concerts, whicli made my heart burn witli wild desires; of the shops of Art, where-one can feast the eye on the best paintings ^yhenever l)e feels inplineii; and of the places of publie interest; and my poor life seemed sq barren by contrast! I believe I .said soinethiug to that effect, ofmy iife spent in making bread and pies under mother's watchful eye; of sweeping, dusting, and sewing; my tiresome, nionotonoiis routine, every day repairing tlie ravages of the day previous, in that endless round that shall never cease so long tis we remain in thc laberuacle of the body. I spoke of it, I know, with distaste, but he said,— " Don't you know, iny darling, that these very things are fltting you to mako the very best little wife in the world ? The ra.in who gets a wife well skilled in these matters is to heeuvied, if, in addition, sho has a loving heart and bewitchingly womanly ways, like my little sister here," and he smiled ou me so lovingly that my heart ac- know-leilged him as its king from that moment. " You have been my litlle wife in jest—you are my little sister in earnest. What shall be it next?" he said, as'he folded me olose to his sido, and kissed me once more in that sarne mysterious, because lasliiig fashion. Tiien we heartl Solon stamping his snowy boots out¬ side the door. Well, tUe uext morning they went. I believe I felt dreary enough that next day. Never did housework seem so utterly distasteful to me .as then, and in spite ofwhat Gerald had said, I felt that if I lived in the city, and had white hands, and could play on the piano, I should be much better please with myself aud more attractive to my friends. So I went through the day, dream¬ ing day-dreams, such as young girls of¬ ten dream, and was not fully aroused until an unwontly Bharp reprimand from my mother biouKbt me to my lysay my head was In a whirl—the | senses, I had built the flre fortes, and MATTEES MATBIMONIAI. Girls are sometimes sharp in urging men to ask the questions whicii by eti¬ quette they are not allowed to ask them¬ selves. A lover, vainly trying to ex¬ plain some scientific theory to his fair iuamorata, said: " The tjuestioii is diflicult, and I don't see what I can do to make it clear." " Suppose you pop It," whispered the blushing ilamsel. " Miss Brown," said a young fellow to a brisk brunette, "I have been to learn to tell fortunes. Just let me have your hand, ifyou please." "La! Mr. White, how sudden you are! Well, go and ask pa." Thut reminds us of a story of Profess¬ or Wilson. A young man who had gained the affections of his daughter, waited upon "papa" and stated ills case, of whieli the Professor had a pre¬ vious inkling. The young gentleman was directed to desiro the lady to corae to her father, and doubtless, her obedi- dience was prompt. Professor Wilson had before him, in review, sorae work, onthe fly-leaf of which was duly in¬ scribed, " With the author's compli¬ ments." He tore this out, pinned it to the daughter's dress, solemnly led her to her young lover, and went back to his work. Oftentimes a girl says " no " to an offer, when it is plain as the nose on her face, she means "yes." Thebest way to judge whether she is in earnest or not is to look straight into her eyes and never mind hor noes. There are some people that never " pop the questiou" but once. They are cautious; they love with their whole hearts before they ask that all-impor¬ tant questiou, and they uever love again. Others go through life " pop¬ ping" to every girl they are fortunate enough to he introduced to, and tn'be treated civilly by, and are never an¬ swered "yes." He that says bluntly, " Will you marry me ?" lias no music 111 his .soul, or is a widower courting a house or farm. "Poppiug the queslion " in Peru is very romantic. The suitor appears on the appointed evening, with a gaily dreasetl troubadour, under the balcony of his beloved. The singer steps before the flower-bedecked,window, and slugs her beauties in tlie name of lier lover. He compares her size lo that of a palm tree, her lips to two blushing rose-buds, and her womanly form to that of the dove. With assumed harshness, the lady asks her lover; " Who are you, and what do you want ?" He auswera, with ardent eonlidenpe : " The dove Idotidore! Thestarslive in the harmony of love, tind whyshould we not, too', love each other?" Then the proud beiiuty gives herself awtiy, she takes her flower wreath from her hair, and thrq-sys it dowu to her lover, promising to iie his forever. Some people consider these matters very philosophically. A lovo-smilten professor iu oue of our colleges, after conversing awhile with his Duleinea on the interesting topic of matrimony, concluded at last with a declaration, and put tho emphatic question of— " Will you have me?" "I am sorry to disappoint you," re¬ plied the lady, " and hopo my refusal will not give pain, but must auswer 'no.'" " Well, well, that will do, madam," said her philosophical lover; "aud uow suppose we change the subject." A gentleman known by the name of Dodd, who is a matter-of-fact business man, who always gets his goods at the lowest eash price, began to gat ratber advanced in years. He called on a lady frieud, and iuquired of her what she thought about the advisability uf his getting married. " Oh, Mr. Dodd, that is an afl'air in which X am not greatly interested, and I prefer to leave it to yourself." " But," says Dodd, ". yod are inter¬ ested; and, my deargirl, willyou marry me?" The young lady blushed, hesitated. and flnally, as Doddjwos vefy well to do in the world, she accepted him. Whereupon the matter-of-fact Dodd coolly responded: " 'Well, well, I'U look about, and if I don't fiud anybody that suits me better than you, I'U conie back," But often conversations in reference t<> these matters partake more of acer¬ bity. A very diminutive specimen of a man lately solicited the hand of a f^ae buxom young girl. " Oh, no," said the fair but insulting lady: " I oan't think of itfor a moment. The fact Is, Jobn, you're a Uttle too big for a orsdle, and a iittle too amall to go to ohuroh with." THE KECKI.EY-LIHC0L1I BOOK. "Behind the Scene.?." The following extracts from this cu¬ rious book refer to many of the most interesting incidents of the fivo years' life in.the White House, which the au¬ thoress, Sirs. Keckl ,(i, describes: TIIE DEATH OP LMTIiE WILLIE. Finding that WilllCoontlnued to grow worse, Mrs.. Lincoiiiuidetermined to withdraw her cards"orinvitation and postpone the reception. Mr. Lincoln thought that the cards lidd better not be withdrawn. Atieast he advised that the doctor be consulted before any steps were taken. Accordingly Dr. Stoue was called in. He pronounced Willie better, and said tliat there was every reasoii for an early recovery. He thought, since the invitations had been issuetl, It -would be best to go on with the reception. Willie, he insisted, was in no immediate danger. Mrs, Lincoln was guided by these counsels aud uo postponement was announced. On the evening of the reception Willie was suddenly taken worse. His inother sat by llis bedside along while, holding his feverish hand in her own, and watch¬ ing his labored breathing. The doctor claimed there was no cause for alarm. I arranged Mrs. .Lincoln's hair, then assisted her to dress. Her dress was white satin, trimmed with black lace. The trail was very long, and as she swept through the room Mr. Lincoln was standing with his back to the flre, his hand behind himaud hiseyes onthe carpet. His face wore a thoughtful, solemn look. The ru.stling ofthe satin dress attracted his attention. He looked at it a fewmoments, then in his quaint, quiet way remarked: " Whew! our cat has a loug tail to- niglit." Mrs. Liueolu did not reply. The President added : "Mother, it is my opiuion, if some of that tail was nearer the head it would be in better style," and he glanced at her bare arms and neck. She had a beautiful neck and arm, and low dresses were becoming to her. .She turned away with a look of offendetl dignity, and presently took'the President's arm and both went down stairs to their guests, leaving me alone with the sick boy. ¦ThB reception was alarge aud brilliant one, and the rich notes of tiie JIarine Band in the apartments below came to the sick room in soft, subdued mur¬ murs, like tho wild, faint sobbing of far off spirits. Some of the young peo- £le had suggested dancing, but Mr. incoln met the suggestion with an emphatic veto. The brilliancy of the scene could not dispel the sadness that rested upon the face of Mrs. Lincoln. During the evening she came up stairs several times and stood bythe bedside of the suffering boy. .Slie lovnd him with a mother's heart anil her anxiety was great. The night passed slowly : morning came, and Willie was worse. He lingered a few days and died. God called the beautiful spirit home, and the house of joy was turned into the houso of mourning. .1 was worn out with watchingand was not in theroom when Willie died, butwas imniediately sent for. I asslsteil in washing and dressing liim, and then laid him onthe bed, when Mr. Lincoln came in. I never saw a man so bowed down with grief. He came to the bed, lifted the cover from the face of his child, gazed atit long and earnestly, murmuring: "My poor boy, he was too good for thisearth. Gotl haseallpdhinihorae; I know that he is mtibh better ofl' in Heaven, but Uieii we loved him so mucli. It is hard, htird to have him dio!" ! . Great s^ibs checked his utterance. He buried his face in his hantls, and his tall frame waseonvulscd with emotion. I stood at the foot of the bed, my eyes full ot tears, looking tit the man in si¬ lent, awe-stricken wonder. H[is grief unnerved him, aud made hira a weak, passive child. I tlid niitdreain that his rugged nature could Iba so moved. I shall uever forget tliose solemn mo¬ ments—genius and greatness weeping over love's idol lost. | There is a grnn¬ deur as well as a simplicity about the pieture that will never fade. With me it is immortal—1 really believe that I shall carry it witll me|across the dark, mysterious river ofdeath. ill's. Lincoln's grief was inconsola¬ ble. The jiaSo face df her dead boy threw her into convtilsious. Around him love's tendrils hiul been twined, aud now that he was! dressed fpr thc tomb, it was like tearing the tendrils out of the heart by their roots. Willie, she often said, it spared by Providence, would be the hope and stay of hor old age. But Providence! had not spared him. The light faded from his eyes and the death dew liad g.ithered on his brow. I In oneof her paroxysms of grief the President kindly beht over hiswife, took her b.y the arm aiid gently led her to the window. With!astately, solemu gesture, lie pointed toithe lunatic asy¬ lum. "Mother, do you seo that large white building on tho hiUytinder? Try and control your grief, or it will drive you mad, ami we may have to send you there." | DfiDl'.S WERE from foreign potentates, but Andrew Johnson, the successor of Mr. Lincoln, never oalled on.the widow; or even so mucn aa wrotealineexpresssng sympa¬ thy for her grief andthe loss other hus¬ band. Eobert called on him oneday to tell him that his mother would turn the White House over to himin afew days, and he never even so mucb as Inquired after tbeir welfare. Mrs. Lincoln firm¬ ly believed that Mr. Johnson was con¬ cerned In the assassination plot. ' In packing, Mrs. Lincoln gove away everything Intimately connected with the President,'as she said she could not bear to be reminded of the past. The articles were given to those who were regarded as the warmest of Mr. Lin¬ coln's admirers. All of the presents passed through my hauds. The dress Mrs. Lincoln wore on the night of the assassination was given to Sirs. Slade, the wifo ofan old and faithful messen¬ ger. The cloak, stained with the Presi¬ dent's blood, was given to me, as also was the bonnet worn on the same mem¬ orable night. Afterwards I received the comb and brush Mr. Lincoln used during his resideuce at the White House. With this same comb aud brush I had often combed his head. When almost ready to go down to are- ceiition ho would turn to mo witli a quizzical look: "Well, Madam Elizabeth, will you brush my bristles down to night?" There was much surprise when Mrs. Lincoln left the White House as to what her sixty boxes, not to count her scores of fifty trunks could contain. Had the government uot been so liber¬ al iu furnishing the boxes, it is possible that there would have been less de¬ mand for so much transportation. The boxes were loosely packed, and many of them with articles not worth carry¬ ing away. Mrs. Lincoln had a passion for hoarding old tilings, believing, with Toodlcs that the.y were "handy to have about the house." The bonnets that she brought with her from Springfield, iin addition to every oue purchased during her resi¬ dence in Washington, were packed in the boxej and sent to Chicago. .She re¬ marked that she niight find use for the raaterial some da.v, and it was prudent to look at the future. I am sorry to say- that Mrs. Lincoln's foresight in regard to the future was only conflned to east off clothing, as she owed at the time of the President's death S"0,000. Mr. Lin¬ coln knew nothing of these hills, and the only happy feature of his assassina¬ tion was that he dietl in ignorance of them. Had he known to what extent his wife was involved, the fact would have embittered the only jileasant mo¬ ments of his life, I disclose this .secret in regard to Mrs. Lincoln's tlebts, in ortler to explain why she should subse- queiitly have labored under pecuniary embarrassment. It is charged that a great deal of fur¬ niture was lost from the White House tluring Mr. Lincoln's occupation of it. Very true, and it can be accounted for in this way: In some respects, to put the caso very plainly, Mrs. Lincoln was "penny wise ami pound foolish." AVhen she moved into the Wliite House she discharged the steward whose busi¬ ness it was to look after the afl'airs of the household. When the steward was dismissed there was no one to superin¬ tend afl'airs, and the servants carried away many pieces of furniture. In this manner the furniture rapidly ili.sap- peared. SONQ OF THE 'WINDS. now THE DEDl'.S WERE CONTRACTED. Mrs. Lincoln was extreiuisly auxious that her iiusiiand should be re-elected President of the Uuited States. In en¬ deavoring to make a display becoming her exalted position, she had to incur many expenses. Jlr. Lincoln's salary was inadequate to meet them and she was forced to ruu in debt, hoping that good fortune would favor her and ena¬ ble her to extricate herself from an em¬ barrassing situation, " What llo you think about the elec¬ tion,'Lizabetli ?" shesaid tome one raorniug. " I think that Mr. Lincoln will re¬ main in tlie Whito House ftiur years longer," I replied, looking up from my work. j " What makes you think so 'J Some¬ liow I have learued to fear that he will be defeated." " Because he has hecn tried and haa proved faithful to thej best interests ot tho country.—The people of theNorth recognize in him au honest man, and tlicy ure willing to confide in him, at least until the war has been brought to a close. So Mr. Lincoln is eertnin to be rcrelected. He represents a princi¬ ple, and to maintain this principle the lo.yal people of the loyal .States wiil vote for him, even If he had no merits to commend hira. " Your view is a plausible one, 'Liz- abeth, and your confldence gives rae new hope! If he should be defeated, I do not know what would become of us all. To me, to him, there is more at stake in this election than he dreams of." , ^ "What can you mean, iMrs. Lincoln ? I do not comprehend." "Simply this:—I liayc contracted large debtsi, qf whicb ho knows noth¬ ing, and which he w'iU be unable to pay if he is defeated." " What are your debts, Rlrs. liin¬ eoln?" " "They consist chiefiy of store bUls. I owe altogether about S27,000: the prin¬ ciple portion at Stewart's in New York. You understand 'Lizabeth, that Mr. Lincoln has but little ideaof the ex¬ pense of a woraan's wardrobe. He glances at my ricli dresses, and is hap¬ py in the belief that the few hundred dollars I r.btaiu from liim will supply ail m.y wants. 1 must dress in costl.v materials. To koep up appearances I must havo inoney—raore than Mr. Lin¬ coln ean spare for me. He is too hon¬ est to make a penny outside of his sal¬ ary ; consequently I had, and still have no alternative but to run in debt." " And Mr. Lincoln does not even sus¬ pect liow^ much you owe'?" " God, no!"—this was a favorite ex¬ pression of hers--" and I would not bave him suspect If he knew that his wife was involved to the extent she is, tlie thought would drive him mad'. If lie is re-elected I can keep him in ignor¬ ance ofmy affairs; but if hels defeated, theu the bills will be sent in and be wUl kuow it;" and somethiug like a sob escaped her. Wheu in ono of these excited moods she would flercely exclaim : "The Bepublleau politicians must pay my debts. Hundreds of tbem are getting immensely rich off the patron¬ age bf my husband, and it is but fair that they should help me out of mv emhrarassment. I will make a demand of them, and when I tell them tbe facts of the case they cannot refuse to ad¬ vance whatever mouey I require." THE FUKNITDKE OP THE WHITE HOIJSE. For flve weeks Mrs, Itluooln was con¬ flned to her room. Packing afforded qultearelief as it so closely occupied us that we had not much time for la- nientation. JOSS siLLmesisHs. It strains a man's philo.^iophpe the wust kind to lafl'when he gits beat. Awl ov us komplaiii ov the shortness ov life, yet we awl waste more time tlian we use. Don't mislake arroganse for wisdom; many pepel hav tliought tha wus wise when tha was oiila windy. The man -who karit git ahead with¬ out pullin others back, is a limited cuss. ' The principal tlifl'erence between a luxury aud a necessary, is the price. Whenever the soul is in grief, it is takiug root, aud wheii it is in smiles, it is taking wing- " Give the devil his due," but be oareful there ain't much due liim. After a man has rode fast onst he never wants to go slow again. Faith that is foundcil on an arnest aud a truthful oonviokshun, Is beauti¬ ful to beliold ; but faith that is founded slmpla on courage, ain't enuythiug more than good grit. Evra sorrow has its ,,twin joy: the fun ov scratchin almost pays for hav¬ ing the each. Tliose families who are really fust class never ar afraid that tha shall git cheated out uv their respecktabilitj-, while the codfish familys ar always nervous lest tha mite. Jt won' do to stir up a man when he is thiuking, enny more than it will a pan ov milk when the cream is risiug. It is easy enuff to raise the devil, but he's a bard crop to reap. The oula sure resipee tew govern mankine with is the rod; you may festoon it with flowers and case it with velvet, ifyou pleze, but it is the rod af¬ ter awl that dus the bizness. We ar told tbat a contented man is happy, and we inight have been told at the same time that a mud turtle could fly ifit ouiy bad wings. A Wife's Love.—Woman's love, like tho rose^ blossoming in tlie arid desert, spreads its rays over the barren plain of the human heart, and while all around it is black and desolate, it rises more strengthened from the ab¬ sence of every other alarm. In no sit¬ uation does the love of a woman appear more beautiful thau that of a wife. Parents, brethren, and friends have claims upon the nfl'ections-but the love ofa wife is a distinct and difl'erent nature. A daughter may yield lier life tothe prescrviitlonof aparent; a sister may devote herself to a sufl'ering broth¬ er ; but the feelings whicb iuduee her to this conduct are nut suoh us those which lead awife to follow the husband of her choice through every pain and peril that can befall him, to watch ovor him iu danger, to cheer him in adversi¬ ty, and ever remain unalterable at his side in the depths of ignominy and shame, It is a heroic devotion which a woman displays in adherence to the fortunes of a hapless liusband. When we behold her in domestic scenes, a mere passive creature of enjoyments, an intellectual joy, brightening the fainily with her endearments, and love for 1 he extreme joy whicii that presence and those en¬ dearments are calculatetl to impart, we can scarcely credit that the fragile heing who seems to liolil her existence by a thread is capable of supporting the extremeof human suffering; nay, when the heart of raan sinks beneath the weight of agony, thatshe should main¬ tain lier prestine powers of delight, and, by her words of eomfort and pa¬ tience, lead the murmurer to peace ond resignation. O, list to the winds, how lhey whisper and whisper, I.Ike nn Infant tlspcr. That sinks to rest ou Its mother's breast, Wltn dream lug eyes and sort good-ljyes. And.cheelts losc-hucd as the sweet sunrise. O, list to the whispering winds 1 For I feel as a ehlld, so cairn and mild. As if an angel had on me smlleil. When I list to the whispering winds. O. list to the winds, how thoy moan and moan, with a pitiful toue, ' Lllce awidow's cry when the stormswceps by. And clouds of winter bednipe the sky. O, list to the moaning winds! For I feel the smart ofa sinful heart. And In sorrow and dread and terror start. As I list to the moaning winds. p list to the winds, how thoy roar and roar. Ijllte the torrents that pour Frem the cataract's steep to the seething deep, with a broad and a loud and a lerrible sweep. O, list to the rotirlng winds! I'Or I feel this night, in my giant, might, I could battle nn army and wlu the Ilght, As I Ust to the roaring winds. O, list to tho winds, how they swell and swell, Lliroe funeral bell, isound. That shakes the ground with ils deep, ilread And arouses the echo around aud around; O, list to the swelling sounds! For I hear the roll of Ihelr awful toll. And I bury myself in a fathomless soul. As 1 list to the swelling winds. O, list to the swelling winds! A STOEYFOETHE^LITrLEFOIKS. AN ADVENTURE AT THE SK.VSIDE. Little Jessie went with her papa and mamma to spend the summer at the sea-side. She had never been near tlie sea before, and she was almost wild with delight when she saw the beauti¬ ful ships sailing on the water, and heard the sound of the waves, as they dashed against the shore. There were a greatmanychildren living in the house where Jessie went, and every day they passetl hours together, playing ou the beach; building forts and bouses, in the sand, and digging great holes, for the water to fill up, when thc lidesbould come in. Jessie's mamma often told her that she must stay with the other children when they were on the beach, for she was afraid to allow ber to wander off alone. What pleased Jessie more than any¬ thing else, was flnding shells. She was making a beautiful collectiou to give to her papa on his birthtlay, and as she wished it to be a great surprise, shedid not tell any one of her intention. One day, when she was tiretl of buihling sand forts, she started off to fill her bag with .shells, forthe next d.ay would be her papa's birthday. She was so busily enguged, that sbe forgot her mamma's warning, not to wantlcr ofl'alonc,-and she walked along forsome time with¬ out looking up. At last she raised her head, aud looked behind her. What was her surprise, to.seeherlittlofricnds far, faraway; so far, imleed, that they looked like little blaek specks upon the sand. What could poor Jessie tlo? Her shoes were so full ol sand thatshe coultl walk no further; and besides, shewas ao tired! .She must sit down and rest. Directly in front of licr was a large stump ofa tree, whicli had been dug up by the roots, and thrown upon thc shore. It WIUi used by the boys as a kind of nut-door bathing house. " O," thought little Jessie,—" I will just elimb up on the lop of that old stiitup, take the saud outof my shoes, Jiut my shcU-i nicely In ray b.ag, and tiien run home." She felt a great deal better when her shoes were oil', but still her foot ached, and wereso tired tltat she thought she would rest a little while, and run home all tho faster to makeup for lost time. "I'll lay my head against this old root, which makes a fine pillow," said she, "and look out at the waves for a few minutes." .So saying, she arranged lierself comfortably, ami soon fell fiuit asleep. She slept' for .some lime, and when she awoke, she was greatly sur¬ prised to find herself, as shu supposetl, In the middle of the sea. "Water, water, all around her, ami tlie waves breaking up against thc sides of tliu old stump! She screamed aloud in the greatness of her fear, but no one heard her. She got up quickly tind stooil upon tlie stump; and then she saw that she was not in the niitldle of thc sea, because she could sec the shore not far oil', but the water was too deep for her to wade through. Poor little Jessie! All alone on the stump of an old tree, with tho water coming higher and higher all the time; for the tide was coming in. She thought she should be drowned ! The little black specks upou the .sand were no longer to be seen. Tlie children had gone horao. " Papa! papa! " she screamed; " mamma! mamma! O,stiiDeltoclijcome to me, or I .shall die." Tliere was no answer. The sound of her own voice frightened her; and, covering her face with lier hauils, she sank tlown almost fainting. Then she thought of herdcar mother aud how she had promised Iier that she would never walk oil'idone; and now, this was the terrible punish¬ ment far her tllsobedience. 0, if slie could only see her for one moment, put her arms around her neck, and tell her she was sorry! but uo! no oue could hear her cry. No oue would eoiuo to help ber. Suddenly the thought struck her,— "God can altaai/s he.ar mo;"—and kneeliug down, she put lier little liands together, and said: "Pray .Qod send some one to mc, and forgive me for my Saviour's sake, amen." Slie felt so much better after this, and had. so much more hope, that she shouted agaiu with all her might, "Help, papa! help!" and then, to her great delight, a voice answered, "Jessie, I am here; papa has pome." A few moments more, and she wtis safe in her father's arms. O, how glad her dear mamma was to sec.her when she got homo. .\ nice warm supper was wailing for her, and warm clothes to make her dry and comfortable. Theroom never-look¬ ed so pretty before, nor the flowers on the carpet so bright; but, best of all, she was safe at home, with her papa and mamma. No .scolding did they give their litlle daughter, hut that night in Jessie's room, where no human eye i.'ould see tlieni, the. mother prayed tliat (jod would give her darling a thankful and obetUenl heart for Jesus' sake.—-Y, Y, Observer LEGAL N.0TICE3. •. .EXECD'^OBS' NOTICE. Estate of Jacob Breneman, late ofProv¬ ldence township deceased. L^^F^\**'-'^taraeutary oil tiic estate of ...aid ,i„Jf™??'^„^,'">^'nK'"^'=" granted to lhe uu- H.,?l^,^t^n' PTsons indebted to the said es- i,'!,'5i?,„^i?i .i"^'^,''" """"= paymeut, and those '„''M,S*',f„ior«f,™''^<""'""'»>"d pre.sent them to tho undersigned .-xeoutors JAOOli ERKxemXu, residing lu ,„n tt^j-t^^^^^^ B1'''-M':>IA.\', rcsldlus lu ma23^.t-.« ...¦¦ Manor tMrnshrp.' EXECUTOR'S XO'ncsi. Estate ofHenry Weidman, late of Up¬ per Leacock township, deceased. LKTIBRS Icstamenlary on salil estale hav¬ ing been granted to the un.lersijjned, all pel sons ludehted thereto are requested to make Immedialc Ijaymcnl.uud those having cluims or demands against the same W-IU present them for settlement to lho uudersiguetl, residing Iu said township. ma20-C«t-L7 WM. WEID.MAN-. E-VECUTOB-.S a-«THIE. Estate of JacobKreider, lateof the city of Lancaster, dec'd. IETTEnSTestamontari-on said estate liav- jlng heen granted to tho undersigned, all fici-sous Indebted thereto are reiiuested to make mmediate payment, and those haviug claims or demands against the samo will present them wilhout delay forsettlement to the un¬ dersigned, residing in LllMe Brilaiu twp. SAMUEL E. FAIIIL..\.MB, may 20 ot-27 ADMIXISTnATUU'N XOrlCE Estateof Catharine Lutz, lale of West Cocalico township, deceased. LETTERS of admiulsirallon on said estate having heen grauted to Ihe undersigned, all persons Indcbte.1 thereto are requested to makelmmediate paymeut,and those having claims or demands atiuinsl the same wlll pre- sentlhem wilhout delay forsettlement to the undersigned, residiuglu Ephrala lownship. .'i.vilUKL WOLf', jnncIOOt-liO Admlnislrator.' AnMisrisTR.trwiLs- x-oricE. Estate of Andrew Hershey, late of West Hempfield township, dec'd. LETrEHSof administration on said estate having been granted to the undersigned, all i)ersonsindehtedtheretoarc requested tomake Immediate payment, and thosehavingelalms ordomandsagainsttbesame wlll present them without delay for settlement to tho nnder¬ signeil, residing In said towuship. .T. HOFFMAN HERiSHEV, .\BKAHa.M IIEtUJlIEV, m.aylli-5t« ICI Adminlslriuors. AnMivisrK.vTou-s xttriCK. Estate of Mary Ann Leaman (an in¬ fant), lale of East Lamjiet'.'r lown¬ ship, deeeased. LETTEIW of adminLstration on said esUile having heen granted Xa the undersigned, he gives notice lo all persous indebted to said de- dedent to make Immediate payment, and lho.se having claims or ilemands against thc said decedent wili make known tbu same to the undersigned wllhont ilelay. A»RAII.\.M S. LAXDW, Admlnl.strator, ma:!7-i;i-" 'iA\ Residing In E. Lampeter tW],. Al>.«IN'I.STIt.VT<Hf.S .>-«TI€'E. Eslate of Eliza Kain, late of Earl twp., deceased. rElTEILS of adminLstration on said estate J having been granted to the uudet-slgnerl all persons Indebted thereto, arc renuestcl to make immediate paymeut and tiiose haviug claimsor denmndsagainst the same, will jjre. seut them without dela.v for .settlement lo the uniieisigncd, residing in sahl township. ^ .aiHN .SL'IINADER. iti!i'27-iJti IW .Admluislrator. BOOKS, STATIONiERY. &C Boohsi &, Htfktwnevy. A Full a.ssortment of .School linil. Miscellane¬ ous liooks, l<uinily and I'ocket Illbles, con¬ stantly on hand. A LABGE STOOK OF GOOD STATIOXEHV. BLANK FORMS OP ALL KIN US, For I.awyers, Conveyancers, Justices of tha i'eace, Slil. TUE NEW KOUNTAIN PiSN HOLDEB, Holds enough Ink to write frori one to threo pages of paper,securosan evenaowof Ink.and is adjustable toany pen. JACOBS' PATE.VT AH;MINU.m' PENM. These Pons aro elsstic, atrong, and will not corrode. They aru the must durablesteo] pens In the mai-kei. PATENT COMEI.VATION ERASER AXD PEN HOLDER. ,„i';'i"'' '' ".strong-, neat pen holder, furnished for ,,,'!;'!."'-' eraser, the holder serving as acap i^^.™."'?" "''".'° eraser, and forms tlie most Sr^»i^.¦;,','P"".'',"'''"'" '¦' "'^ market. Two sizes-uimmcrclal and Ladles' Pen Holder. KURTS AND JIONAGIIAN'S CELEBRATED GOLD PENS. We feel no hesitancy In recommending these peusiis the hest In the market, as w.7 have bceti selling them f,r a nuinhcr of years and have never heard theiu spi.ken of by our'cns- tomershutln thehlghesttcriusof praise For sale with or without silver cases. Orders respectfully solicited and promotlv attended to. J. H. .SHEAFPER'n Cheap Caah Book Store, mrlStf 18 No. .12 N. Queen St., Laneaster, Pa. BI..\iVK BOOKS, D.\Y BOOKS. CASII BOOKS, JODilNAI.S, LEDQEBS. P.VSS BOOKS, .ME.MOUANDUMa, DIARIES, 'W It I T I N a PAPERS. FOOI.SCVP AND LETTER PAPER, ENVELOPES AND STATIONEBY, BLANK DEEDS, JUSTICES BLANKS, A.t lowest rates, at Bookstore of JOIIN HAER'S SONS, No. 10 North Qneen Street, .laul.'i-tfi) Lancaster AiMIl.Vl.SriC.irOK-.S XOTICE. I'^state of Adam Bitner, late of JNtanor townshii), deeeased. I E'lTKIt^of administration on said estate Jhaving been granted lo ihe nndersigned, all nei's.>iis indt-^bted Iheretoare reiiiii>sle.l lo make Immediate settlement, a.id those having claims or ilemands against tue .same will pre. sent thein forsettlement without delay to the unilerslgned, residing In .said towuship. .VllU.-Vll.V.M llirXEU, ma27-lit^ 2S Ailmlolstrator. EXEClITon'.S XOTICE. Estate of Christiana I'rcy (widow), late of .Afaiior twp., deceased. {ETn-ZlLS testamentary ou .said estate hav- j lug beeu granted to tlie nnilcrsigiicd, all persons Indebted theretoare reiiiiesledto make immediate payment, and those havingclalms or ileiuanilsugain.st lliesaine will present Ihem willioutdelay for settlement to the underslgu¬ ed, residing iu said lownship. m.i2-.|it»: A. 11. WIT.MER. E.tecutor. EXEt-'UTOU'.S XOTICE. Eslatc of William H. Hall, la'.e of V>'ai-- wiek townsliip, dec'd. r E TTE us testamentary on said e.state ILj havlng^hcen gianted lo the nndorslgneii, all [.er.sons ludehted tlicreto. are requested to make imaicdiiite payment, aud tho.se having claimsor demands agaiust lin. same, will pre¬ sent them wlllir,ut d.da.v for settlement to thc underslgued, residing iu said tw|>. KA.M. B. GHOSH, may .10-l!t-2S E.,:cculor. Xew Books! Hifiw BooImI A MONO which are some from the PABIS iJL EXPasmoN. BIBLE.S, Prayer and Hymn Books ofall de¬ nominations. POETS In Blue and Gold, Ae. ANNUALS, , WBITIN6 DE.SKS, ' WDRK BOXES. I JEWELBY BOXES, REGENCY DE.SKS, LADIES' COUI'A.f IONS. DRE-SSING CASES. PORT FOLIOS, ALEU-MS, NEW OAME.S. AUTOti H.VPH- BOOKS, CHEiiS-MEN i nOARD.S. ."""n-^. HACKGA.M.MON BOARDS, ENGLISH TOV BOOK.S. .MOV.VBLB TOY BOOKS. LINEN BOOKS, SWISS BUILDING BIX3CKH, UNIQN COLLEGE BLOCKa. JACK.STBAW.S. JERSEY BUILDING BLOCKS. PICTURE BLOCKa. ABC BLOCKH, TRANSP.ARENT SLATES. OOLD I'ENS. .SHELL BOXES. PtirKKT BOOKS, JfAGIC LANTfcUNS. Pjease call aud examine at J. M. WESTHAEFFER'S Cheap Book Store, No. 41, corner of Nortii Queeii aud Orange sta., Laueaster, Pa. [dec I4-tf-l DIARIES FOR ISGS! DIARIES FUR I86S DIARIES FOlt 1S08 I DI.\RIES FOB ISSS.—A large variety ofslyles and sizes. cont4ilulug Calendar, Rates of Postage, comph'te table of Stamp Dulles, Eras- lable Tablet Memomnda, t.'ash Acconnt and Sumniar.v, Ac.; also Pocket Book form, large aud .small. J. M. WESTHAEFFEP.'S Cheap Book Store, No. 41, Corner of North (^necnund Orange sts NOTICE I.V Sl.VXKRUPrCY. L-\Kc.vsrEit. June 2, ISOS. TIIIS IS TO Grs-E NOTICE: That on the'Sth day of Ma.v, A. D. ISliS, a Warrant iu Bauk¬ ruptc.v W.IS Lssucd against the estate of .MI¬ CHAEL 11. WITWER, of the clly of Lancaster, iu the county ofLancaster and .state oi^ Peiin- .sj-ivauln, who has been atljtiilgoil a Bankrupt ou ills owu petitiou; tli.at the iiayment of auy d.;bls, ami the dellver.v of anv property be¬ ionglug to sueh Uanltrnpt, to nim,'or for his uso, an.i the transfer of any i.njpcMy by him, ure forhld.Iou hy law; that a meetingof the creditors of the said Bankrupt, to prove llieir debts and tochooseoneor morcasslgneesofhis estate, wilt be held ata Court of Bankruptcy tu bo liiildeu atthe otllce of lue Register In n.inkruptc}-, at No. IJ Houth Qneen St., iu the cily of L;LUcasler, Penn'a. before A. Slaymaker, esri., Keglster, ou the 'liih day of JUNE, .\. D., ISiiS, at IU o'clock, A. .\1. JO.-iEPiI G.\INTNER, Dep. U.S. Marshal. Uth DLstrlct,Pennn, jnu 3-::i-'J'J as Messenger. HARNESS. SADDLES, &0. , XOrK'K I.v B.V.VKUUPTCV. LANCASTER, Juiie fi, ISCS. 'JiHISISTOGIVENO'l'lCE: Tlialou the oth L da.v of Juue, .\. D., LSIW, a Warrant in Bankruptcj- was Issued against the estale of RICHARD MOHLER, ofthe cltv of Lanciuster, lu the county of Laucasler.aud Stateof Penn¬ sylvania, wlio has been aiijnilgcd a Ilankrupt on his owu petitiou; thnt the payment ofany debts and delivery ol auy property belonging tosucli Baukrupt, 10 hlm or for his use, and llio transfer of any property hv hiin, are for¬ bidden hy law; liiat a meeting ofthe credltoi-s of the said Bankrnpl, to prove their debts and to choose ouc or more assignees of his estale, will be hold at a court of Buukrniitey lo be holden at the olllce of the Uegister in Bank- ruiitcy, i^o. ii South Queeu su. In tbe city of f.auc.'ister. Pa., before A. .Sla.vinaker, esq.. Re¬ gister, on lhe 27111 day of JUNE, A. D. IStlS, at '2, o'clocic, p. Ul. .rOSEPH OAINT.N'ER, Dc|i. U. S. Marshal, Olli District of Peun'a; jun Hl.2t-10 as .Messenger. Woman's WonD-Booic-Eden-A gar¬ den where bonnets were unknown and scandal nnlnvented. 'SVoman soon gave notice to quit. Engaged—Occupied for a time in makiug n fool ofa man. Enough—obsolete. Eve—The only woman who never threatened to go and live with her mother. Face—A .sketch given us hy Nature to be fllled up in colors. Fan—An article without which no lady's dress ia complete or decent. Fascination—Tile art ot nailing an admirer to his seat. Part of the old Ser¬ pent's legacy. Fashion—The modern Juggernaut, always asking for new victims. Peatlier-The only thing she wants to be, the lightest of creatures. Female—As much an insult to a wo¬ man as " black man " is to a nigger. Fiction—Tales of constancy. Flattery—A refreshmcntshecan nev¬ er have too much of. Future—Past thinking about for the present. iV jovial, fat frieud of ours relates the fuliowing; Jones was, or believed ho was, near his death, and the doctor calling, he held a loug and earnest conversation with him about his chances of life. "¦Why, man," said the physioian, " you are likely to die any hour. You have been living for the last flfteen years without a constitution, lungs gone, liver diseased, and all that sort of thing." " "Vou don't mean to say," rex>lied Jones, questioniugly, " that a mau can live for fifteen years withou a oonstitu¬ tion t" "Sfes, Ido," retorted the doctor, "and A Hoy's Cojii-osition on Corn.^.— Corns are of two kinds, vegetable and animal. Vegetable corn grows in rows, and animal corn grows on toes. There are several kinds of eorn ; there is uni¬ corn, Capricorn, corn-dodgers, field corn, find toe eorn, whioh is thc corn yon feel most. It is said, I helieve, that gophers like corn, but n iierson having corns do uot like to "go far," if he can help it. Corns have kernels, and many eolmicls have corns. \'oge- tablc corn grows on ears, but animal corn grows on tlie foet, at the otlicrend of the body. Anotlier kind of corn is acorn ; these grow ou oaks, but tliere isnolioaic .about tho corn. Tlieacoin is a corn with an indefinite artieie, butthe toe corn isavery tlefinitenrticle indeed. Try It and see. Many; a man, when he has a corn, he wishes it was an acorn. Folks that have corns .some¬ times send for a doctor, and ifthe doc¬ tor himself is corned, he won't probab¬ ly do so woll lUi if lie isn't. Tlte doc¬ tors say tltat corns are produced by tight boots or shoes, which is jirobably the reasoii why w-hen a man is light they say ho is corned. If a farmer manages well ho can get a good ileal of coru on one acre, but I know ofa farmer that lias oue corn tliat makes tlie big¬ gest acher on his farra. Tlie bigger cioji of vegetable corn man raises the better he likes it, butthe bigger crop of ani¬ mal corn he raises the better he don't like it. Another kind of corn is corn¬ dodger. The way it is made is very simple, and is made as follows (that is if you want to know): You go along a street aud meet a man that yon know has corns, and is a rough char.-iotcr,- then you step on the toe that lias the corn ou it, and see if you won't have occasion lo dodge. In that way you will flnd out what a corn ilodger is. NOTICE IS ItANKItUPTCY. Lancasti.;!:, .func fi, IffitS. rilHIS ISTO GIVE NOTICE: 'ihat ou the Cth JL day of June, A. D. Itlia. a Warrant iu Uaukruptcj- was Issuetl against the estate of ROBEKT EVANS, ot the towuship of K.leu, lu llio eounty of Lancnster and Slale ol Penn.syiv.ania. who h.as heen ailjuilged a Bank¬ rupt ou bis ow-n pellliou; that llie payment of an.v debts aud ilelivpry of any properly be¬ ionglug losuch Baukrupt, to him or forhis use, ami the transfer of any pniperty by him are forbidden bj- law; tlmt a meeting of the eroditor.1 of lho Kiild Uankrout, lo prove their ilebts, anil to choose oue or more assignees of his eslatc, wlll he hold at a c'ourt of Banli- riiptcv to bo holdeuat the olUceof the Regis¬ ter, No. tl Month Queen street. In the city of Liuicaster, Pa., beiore A. Slii.vitiaker, esq.. Re¬ gister, on the 2iid day of JIILV, A. D. ISliS, at 11 o-elock, a. III. JO.=lEPIf GAINTNER, Dep. II. s. Marshal. iMIi ilLslrlct, Pa., jun lll-2t-;HI as ^lesseuger. SAI>DLE, HAR^^KSS, & COLLAR MANUFACIOUY. THE sHb-scrlber Informs JifH friends and tba public that lie hou Ica.sed the uew and taand- sDine .Store No. S^5 West King street, uext door below Kauffman's and direclly opposite Coop¬ er's Hotel, whore he willniaiiufacturoandcon- Ktantly keep ou bund ihe largest and best aa- liortment of SADDLES, nAUNE655. r.OTXAIig, .to., everkeptin Lancaster, ITavlng secured the services of some ofTliebesr-workmen In Phil¬ adelphia, ho wlll nmnufaeiure bug^yand fan¬ cy liarucs?j equal to auy fioId In the Eastern cities. JSP-Particular attention will be paid lo the manufacture of COLLARS, and all orders Arom. a distance promptly lilled. ftTjU All goods .sold will be warranted to be of tlm best material and mannfacture, and wlll be sold at tbe lowest possible prices. Peraona in want of anytlilng In my line are particular¬ ly invited tocall and examine the stock. PHILIP H. FISflEn, No. 2.5 West King strt'ct, lnncaster. Pa. CIiea}> as the Cbeapestl AXrOS MILEY hereby Informs tha public that lie tins now on liand a cftmplctc stock ofbiBowu manufacture uf SADDLES. nAUNE.=W. TRUNKS. Ac. He flatters himself that bis FANCY HAK- N KSS cannot be equalled iiy a ny establishment In tnis city, and his prices are moderate. .eS^REPAIltlNG promptly attended to. ilr, Miley Is also agent lor Bakcr'^H Hoof Uniuiciit, tho best article known fi)r Quarter or Sand Crack.Corns.Tlirush.Contmcted.HardorUrlt- tlc Hoofs. 4,Vc., and for general use In place of Stufflng or Soaking. As a dressing for the onl- slde Of the Hoof It has no superior. ^tS..CaII and get a circular, AtA.MILEY'S Saddle & Harness Manufactory, No. 37 North QneenSt.. next door to Shober' Hotel. Lancaster. Pa. you are an example." ** Then, doctor," and a bright smile iUaiuinated the palUd f«ce of the doom- JijetterB of condolence were received ed man, ." then doctor^ VVL go it teu from aU parts of the country, and even I yeare more on (he by-laws," nnd he did. XO'J'IC'E. pL'i'-"=ons are hereby forbhl tr«*spasrfinj; ALI , upon the premises of tb subscribers bv tishing In El'HKATA TllOUi' ItUN. as the full pL'ualry fiftln-iaw will Ih; euHnved wllh- oul ii'^iird lo ppr:ion. ItiAAtrL. UuY]-:u,^ SAMUEL ZERFA.Srt, jun:Mt*2!l ia»W. LANDlrt. ' i- t.VM RSTJt.VY XOTXCK. .VME to the premises of tbe subscriber, in _ "LSI Lampeler iwp., two ol.lSbii'p and tive Lamiis. Tbf ownor is re*iuesie;l to coine for¬ ward, prove property anil pay costs; otherwise the sheep will be s<iJd ai-irording to law. JlEXltYMU.SSEH. niay:;7-;it-*^ Lanwusier P. u., Pa An lionest German, who is employed at ono of the tobacco manufactories in New York, was Usteiiiug recently to an account from a brother workman,of the principles and doetrinesof Miller- ism. Among other things, he was told that the world was expected to (¦ome to an end in two or three mouths. Re¬ marking that the German waa much interested in the matter, the others un- dartook to victimize their listener, by suggesting to him that it wasfull time for him to be making preparation. "Ven do you think it vill be comes to an end?'* he asked. *' Oh, probably in about three months," answered the jokers. "Ho! veil J I no cares for dat!" ex¬ claimed Hans, with a smile of satlsfac- faction, ''I pe going to Puffalo dis Spring.'" The best plan to get rid of noisy chU¬ dren—send tbem to Ylslt the neighbora. The Orcat KIooA Purl iier. S>K. J. rAIIKXCY-S CKLKliUATED BLOOD I'URIFIEU, THEC;UEATEST MEIHCINE OP THE ACE. rnlXIS Medicine wasdiseovi»red seventyycars Xagobynld l>r. Pahrney, of AVashington eo., Maryland, Itwas furnierly put up in pack¬ ages, widely known as the •* Preparation for Cleansing ll;u Blood," but is now pnt up in liquUi by the present proprietor, who has ini- jirovfd U. It is jdeasaiiL to take, aud the dose smaller. This Dlond PuriUer contaln.-i twenty-three Ingredients, and Is composedof Kools, Itarks, Leaves, .Seeds and IJerries,possi's.slng tbe high¬ est dem-ei; of purilying propcrlit's, nml Is so eombinod ns lo opt.'rate tbroutjh tb»* blnod, up¬ on uvery organ and onuiiwrtory of the human eeonomy. This Blood Purill-T Is gooil for all clironlc diseases, such asSicklleaiiache, Scrof¬ ula, Teller, Ilunniug Ulcers. Plmi»les, Scald Itead, WliiteSwelliugB.Di.seastjof the Spim*, Cancers, Ulngworins, Ilbunuulsin, Dyspeps.'-i, Consumption. Costlveness, IJIeedliig of the Lungs, i,lver and Kidney Cuinplalnis. This article Is pn^parc-d to meet the various condi¬ tions of the boily, arising from lmi)nrlly of tbe -blood, and If tlie disL-ase is within llie eontrol of medicine, itcan becured by this article, Testlmouialsof iLs wonderful alterative pro¬ perties could have beeu oblained of hundreds and thousands of individuals who have been cured of diseases ofinany years'standlng. Since the introduction of this Medicine in thecity and eounty of Lancasier, it hasbeen used by huudreds wbo ean testify to its great virtues. Prepared only by— FAHRNEY & REINHOLD, Corner North Queen & Walnut Streets, npr 25-iy*(»-21 Lancaster, Pa. C A K i> r r.ErGART'rJ OLT) WfNK STORE, EstahlisUcd in iTSo. NO.'^ftO EAST KINO-ST., LASCiVSTElI, PA. TIIE repniatlon of UEIGAUT'.^ OLI> WINES ANDIIKANIJIES for purity and excellent quality havingbeen fullv e.'^rubliulied for near¬ ly a t-entury. we regret that (he conduct of some unininelpled deaUTs. who re-tlU with and riell Iroui oprlabeled bottles their delete¬ rious coiupountls, compels us to ailopt the an¬ nexed trade mark, which in future, for the protection of ourselves aud our customers, will be liHiiiil on all our old bottled Wines. Ilrandies, iiiiis. Whiskies, Hitters, A-c, auI.ES •& ACXEB, TIN AND SHEET-IKON WORKEIW, No. 3 West Orange Street, 2d door from Iforth Queeu St., Lancaster, HAVE constantly on hand a large variety ofTINWAttEund Housekeeping Goods. TIN ANP SHEET-IRON -WORK of all kinds promptly mado to ordor, at moderate prices. TIN ROOFING, SPOUTING & REPAIRING of all kinds execated at the lowest caah prices, and In thc best workmanlike manner. D. MILES. H. P. AUXER Spr29 ly'68-24 And further. In order to proleet the same, we hereby announce our deiennlnatlou to proseetttefn the fullest irrtenl of the Act of As¬ sembly, approved :tlst day of .March. IStXt, any persous or ik'i'.souh who shall violate the pro¬ visions of sahl act as .ipplii-alile to onr trade tnark. N. IS.—We rpspcclfnlly rcfjuesl the pnhlle. when they baviM>ee.aslon or iiL-sire touse Old Rrandy at thi> Hotels <»r Uestaurants to ask partieularlv for Uelgart'sOld IJrandj-. Very Itespecilully. «tc., II. E. klaym.\k:er. Agt. Liinc;tsler, :\Iarch •A), isiis. jun 10 'tW-ly-ao. IKAROTIMKF. N E W S T O RE. TREINnOLl) & RON luive opened a new . llardwaru and House I'uruisbingStore.ut the S<intliwej»t Ciirner of N«»rlli Queeu and Walnut streel.i. witha general assortmentol' HOUSE FUnNISHINO GOODS, Huilding Hardware. Cutlerj*. Paluts. Glass. Lliiyeed Oils. Hoiled .ind Kaw; White Lead, Varnlsli. Al>o. a larf;e nnd varletl slock of Cedar Ware, Farming Implements, Forks, Shovels. Ropes, Rakes, Ac. We call paiilcnbir atteu thm toour extensive sloek of I-'loor, Table, ami Carriage OIL CLOTIIS, which for <inantiiy and variety can¬ not be surpassed in Ibis city. A full :issort- mentof GROCERIHSalsoou b.iud, REINHOLD & SON. Cornet of Xorth Queen und Wuluut strKets. apj 29 lf.24 I&OOFIXO StATJE. PRICES REDUCED TO SUIT T^HE TIMES. rnHE undersigned having constantly ori hand X a full supply of Lancasier and York count:' ROOKING SLATE OK THE HE.ST QUALTTIEU which be IsselUngat reduced prices, and which will bo put on by the squ.are, orsoldby-the ton, ou the most reasonable terms. Also, constant- ly on hand, an extra light Peach Bottom Slate, Intended forSlatIng on shingled RoolS.5 Having in my employ lho bestSloterB In the market—all work will be warranted to be exe¬ cuted In the best manner. As these qnalitics ot Slate are the best in the mari: ft. Builders and others will flnd It to their interest to call and examine at my Ajirlcultural & Keed Ware- room8,No.28,EastKingSt., twodoort^west ot the Court House. „ „ « Ll lan l-'68-tf-- GEO- D. aPRECHKK. SI. ATE I SI. ATE I SliATEI ROBERT OWENS, PLA.IN and ornamental Slate Roolor, and deaLer In Lancaster, York, Northampton and Lebtgh county Slate. Ilepairing done at abortDQtlce. All work gaaranteed. OFFICE—East Lemon atreet, betwiaen Bake and I^ime, liCmcaiter, Pa. Orders leftat IMller & Groff's WlU be promptly attended ta „ apl 25 *u-29
Object Description
Title | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Masthead | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Volume | 42 |
Issue | 31 |
Subject | Newspapers--Pennsylvania--Lancaster County |
Description | The Lancaster Examiner and Herald was published weekly in Lancaster, Pa., during the middle years of the nineteenth century. By digitizing the years 1834-1872, patrons are provided with a view of politics and events of this tumultuous period from a liberal political slant, providing balance to the more conservative perspective of the Intelligencer-Journal, which was recently digitized by Penn State. |
Publisher | Hamersly & Richards |
Place of Publication | Lancaster, Pa. |
Date | 1868-06-17 |
Location Covered | Lancaster County (Pa.) |
Type | Text |
Original Format | Newspapers |
Digital Format | image/tiff |
Language | English |
Rights | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Contact | For information on source and images, contact LancasterHistory, Attn: Library Services, 230 N. President Ave., Lancaster, PA, 17603. Phone: 717-392-4633, ext. 126. Email: research@lancasterhistory.org |
Contributing Institution | LancasterHistory |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Month | 06 |
Day | 17 |
Year | 1868 |
Description
Title | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Masthead | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Volume | 42 |
Issue | 31 |
Subject | Newspapers--Pennsylvania--Lancaster County |
Description | The Lancaster Examiner and Herald was published weekly in Lancaster, Pa., during the middle years of the nineteenth century. By digitizing the years 1834-1872, patrons are provided with a view of politics and events of this tumultuous period from a liberal political slant, providing balance to the more conservative perspective of the Intelligencer-Journal, which was recently digitized by Penn State. |
Publisher | Hamersly & Richards |
Place of Publication | Lancaster, Pa. |
Date | 1868-06-17 |
Location Covered | Lancaster County (Pa.) |
Type | Text |
Original Format | Newspapers |
Digital Format | image/tiff |
Digital Specifications | Image was scanned by OCLC at the Preservation Service Center in Bethlehem, PA. Archival Image is a 1-bit bitonal tiff that was scanned from microfilm at 300 dpi. The original file size was 971 kilobytes. |
Language | English |
Rights | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Contact | For information on source and images, contact LancasterHistory, Attn: Library Services, 230 N. President Ave., Lancaster, PA, 17603. Phone: 717-392-4633, ext. 126. Email: research@lancasterhistory.org |
Contributing Institution | LancasterHistory |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Month | 06 |
Day | 17 |
Year | 1868 |
Page | 1 |
Resource Identifier | 18680617_001.tif |
Full Text |
•9
VOLXiM.
LANOASTER, PA. WEDNESDAY JUNE 17, 1868.
NO. 31
PUBUSHED ETEBS WBDHESDAY,
At No. 4 Horth ftneeii Streat, LancMteJ-, Pa.
T£IlMS-ei2.00 A YEAB IX ABTAjrCB.
JSO. A. mESTAND & E. M. KLINE,
Editors and Proprietors.
""'„,^BOB(jaTaE'WMna;^ -?
Some hearta go tinngerlng tXciUb^lte^world,
And never nod tbe love Ui^'SoeK-; Some Ups WltU pride or scorn are curled.
To liide the pwn they may not speak. Tho eye may Hash, the mouth may smile.
The voice In gladdest music thrill. And yet beneath them all the while
The hungry heart be plnleg still. These linow their doom, and walk their wny
Wllh level steps and steadfast eye.*?, JJor strive with Pate, nor weep nor pray;
While others, not ao sadly wise. Are mocked by phantoms evernioro.
And lured by .seemings of deliglit, Fair to tho eye, but at the core
Holding but bitter dust and blight.
I see them gaze from wistful eyes,
1 mark their sign on fading elieeks; I hear them brcalho In Rmotliered sighs,
And note the grief that never speaks; For them no might redresses wrong.
No eye with pity Is Impearied. O, misconstrnod aud suffering long,
O hearLs that hunger lluongll the world:
For you doea life's dull desert hold
No fountain shade, no date grove fair. No gush of waters clear aud cold,
Eut saucy reaches, wide and bare. The foot may fall, tho soul maj* faint,
And weigh to earth the weary frame. Yet stll! ve make no weak complaint.
And speak uo word of grief or blame.
O, eager eyes which gaze afar! 0,arms which clasp the empty air!
Not all uuuiarkcd your sorrows are. Not all unpitlcd your despair.
Kmite, patient Ups so prondl.v dumb- When life's fruil tent at last is furled.
Your glorious recompense shall come, O, hearts that hunger tiirough tho worhl:
DEBOEAH'S ROMANCE.
" Deboi'.ili!"—motlier's voiee raug out sbarp amt clear from the kitchen, as thougli in urgent haste—"Deborah, ruu here quick, will thee?"
I flew down to the kitchen in a mo¬ ment, where luothcr stood at the table Witll her hands plunged in a drift of flour, and her eyes lixed anxiously on the oven-door whence a sliglit smoke was issuing. '* Open the oven-door quick, will thee, Deborah '.' those pies are spoiled, I fear!" and as I hurried the dooi-s wide open, little spluttering pools of boilingsugar, hissing aud seeth¬ ing like youug volcanoes, greeted my eyes, while tlie contraband shade of thc rich jiastc of the apple-pies, aud thc properly yellow coat of the pumpkin- pies, iiiiffiug up iuto huge blaek swell¬ ings liere anil there, seemed to tell a direful story to the patient hauds that had beeu Itihoring since sunrise, and now beheld their crowning glory spoil¬ ed. For it was tbe day before thanks¬ giving, and mothec and I had been busy all tho moruiug—mother baking and I puttingthe house in perfect order iu autieipationof expected eoinpany on the morrow. Brother Solon was coining home, and with him Gerald Haynes, of whom I had heard so mueli; Gerald Haynes, Salon's ehuin, and fellow- clerk, and bcaii itlcal united in one! No wonder I longed to see him. AVouldn'tany girl iu hersenses if sho heai'd a young mau praised as I had heard hira; his person, his chavacter, his talents, all seemed to Solon perfec¬ tion itself, and, of course, I should be dazzled. X, a little country girl, who kuew nothing beyond house-work, and a littlcschooling, and whose knowledge ofthe worlti was limited to thevery slight glimpse of it to be oblained in a little rural town in Maine.
iSo that wheu the letter came an- uouiieiug that .Solon had invited Geraltl to come and speud Thanksgiving with llim at his country home—for Solan re¬ tained a strong love' for that home in .spite ofall the city glare—and that the invitation had been accepted, it threw mother antl me into quite a fever of ex¬ citement ; mother, because she was so anxious for her reputation as the per¬ fect housekeeper Solon had ahvays de¬ clared her to be, aud I—well, I was ex¬ cited for various reasous.
And, first ofall, I began to wonder if he woultl think me a little green coun¬ try girl! I looked over my dresses, wondering what I should wear. There wasmynewcrimson merino I knewthat became me, but Solon had pronounced it too gay the last time he was home ; i he said he liked " quiet" colors better, and that Gerald did too. Then I look¬ edat my old brown dress which 1 had worn for two winters; it looked fairly dowdy, and the braid was fagged out round the edge. No, I couldn't wear that, so the crimson it must be, for "ay wardrobe was limited and my choice only lay betwen those two, unlessi dared put ou my very best, my drab silk, and l kuew mother woulil hold up her liands in horror at the idea; so with a sigh I took down thedress, wishing the sbadel somuch admired wheni bought it was more " quiet," and wondering what he would think ofit.
Then I thought of my unfortunate name—Deborah! There were only two of us, aud why did raother give us such dreatiful names! I never heard mine called without thinking what Fauny May said, Fanny lives iu Boston, and is a cousin to Sarah Lawtou, our next- door neighbor. Fanny said to me, after we got acquainted with each other, " Wliat a pity it is that your raother gave you such a name, Debbie! When i used to hear Sarah talk about De¬ borah Waypo, I always used to itnagine atall, gauutold maid—aboiit forty years old." Perhaps I may tell the whole she said without seeming vain. She added, I'I never thought of your being sucli a charming little wild rose as you are!" Jfow I don't get such compliments as that very often. Plenty of people tell rae I am rosy, and plump, aud " trig," but no one has ever said anything like that. Onl.y onee old farmer Daniels oame near it in his homely way, for he saitl to mother as he rested his tired old franio on our front door steps, and I handed him tho plate of doughnuts niother took down from the shelf; " Tiiat gal of yonrn is as pooty as a posy. Mis' Wa^'ue. It doe-i my old eyesgood to look ather!" But, ohdear! Ithink I take naturally to reflnement; atfd these honest but ungraniniatical coun¬ try neiglibors sometimes disgust rae.
We were all ready and on the watch when the stage drove up tothe door; mother in her neat drab dress and spoi- lesi cap, and I in my crimson me.-ino and a white bib-apion. Solon always liked me to wear aprons. I peeped throughthe blindsaudsaw them alight from tho outside where they had been riding. Solon's boyish figure leajjed down first, and a tall, manly form fol¬ lowed, which made my heart bound— I don't know why, I'm sure'.'
Mother met thein first, and lining back trembling until Iheard, "Where's sis?" and tlien I eonld no longer keep " back, aud rushed to Solon's outstretch¬ ed arms, antl reeeived antl returned his warm kisses. When'I was releastjd to lie presenteil to Mr. Htiynes, I just glanced up in liisfaeeaslputmy hand in llis. warm clasp, but that lopk was pnough to cet my foojish heart to flut¬ tering again. Oh, he v/as sodifrercut from our country youths with their shy, awkward manners, antl nasal voices. His very bov/ denoted the dif¬ ference—much more his voiee and words. Well, we managed to get iuto the parlor; and mother, to my gre.it re¬ lief, devoted herself to Mr. Haynes; ana I waa glad when his great brown eyes were taken oil' my face, for I felt the blushes burning thero, and kuew he would set rae down al once aa an astonishing little piece ol' rnstioily. So I becanio quite at case when his broad baok was toward me, and ven¬ tured on giving Solon two or three little impromptu huge, safe in the idea that hc could not see out of the back ot his head, when lie was so busily engaged talking with mother, tpo, un¬ til I happened to glance in the glass opposite, just after Solon had taken my fitce between his hands aud kissed me twice pr ^rice, for we dearly love each other, as an only brother and sister slioultl—when, I say, on raising my eyes, I saw fhat th.e ^j'hole scene wus
Eietured before him; arid i).ltbough his ack was turned fo us, his eyes were fixed upon the glass with a curlqtis look wliich matlo me glai} to run out of the room.
Pretty soon mother oauieout, "Uow, Deborah," shesaid, "theecan.stayinthe other room and entertain them, and I win see to dinner. I don't need thee, now, everything is all ready." Boin I had to go again , but thia time the flwnerof those searching eyes was seat¬ ed on the sofa, looking over my album. !4fter one assuring glance, to see if he was really entertaining hiuiself, I took the chair BoIdd beckoned me to, by his side, and submitted td a oatechisn^ re¬ specting all our friends. But fearing wo had a listner, I was soabsurdly con¬ strained and atlSly granimatical, lest I might shock his t^tidlous taste, that at last Solon began to stare with sur¬ prise,
"Why, Debbie!" heexclaimed "what in the world is the matter? Have you swallowed a grammar, or a dictionary, or both ? I never thought my little sister was inclined to be pedantic be¬ fore—let me look at you 1" And he faced about and held my face up, burn¬ ing with blushes, to see if he could de¬ tect anything unusual there. I oould not forbear^Iancing at our visitor, to seeif hewas observing the ridiculous picture I knew I was making,.feeling convinced that he knew the truth, that I was overpowered by his presence; but that glance revealed the truth to Solon, ior he burst out laughing as he exclaimed, "Why, Gerald, Idobelieve the child is afraid of you! She glances over to your quarters as a little mouse might look at the fiercest cat, as thougii she thought you might pounce upon her suddenly at any time. Why, chick¬ en," he went on, as the album closed with a thump, and I felt rather than saw the tall figure striding toward us, while the merry laugh of our guest in¬ creased my confusion, "you needn't mind Ger; he's a great big fellow, I know, but he's harmless as a kitten." "But kittens are death on mice," in¬ terposed Gerald, still laughing, "and that won't reassure her, of course. Say I am aa harmless as a caterpiller, or the most innocent little creature you can think of; tell her I am much more afraid ofher than slioisofme—forlam naturally very modest, as you well know."
Just then, to my relief, mother came in to call us to dinner, and the attrac¬ tions of the Iable for a while occupied the whole attention of our company; for Solon saitl it was such a dinner as his mother, and no one else in tlie world, could "ge't up;" whieii gratified niother immensely, of course, though she only .said calmly: "Now, Solon, don't thee go to talking so foolish. It's only that it's a homo that makes thee thiuk every I lling is so much better here than thee lias it at Boston." But Mr. Haynes supported Solon so strongly in his opinion that mother was forced to let thein have it their own way, and yielded with hcr usual quiet smile.
When the short afternoon had drawn to its close, Solon said; "Now we'll haveagood old-fashioned sleigh-ride to¬ night. What do you saj;, Gerald? This snow is too great a luxury to us to be unimproved. We ilon't see such snow- as this in Boston—do we, Ger'.'"
"Nottobe mentioned in the same breath," said Mr. Haynes; "such spark- ling wliitcness is altogether too pure for the city. Ours is yellowish-brown, of the consistency of meal; this is crisp, clean, and sparkles like myriatls of lit¬ tle gems, liow the moon touches it up! Daino Nature isin full dress to¬ night, and has donned all her dia¬ monds." As he said this he stood by the wiudow, holding back the curtain with one liaiid, and turned to me as thougii inviting me to come too, and look at the scene without. I went to his side, niurinuring some confused re¬ ply; for his eyes were bent on mine with an earnest look that ilisconcerted me fur a moment until he had laid his hand ou my head, ami exclaimed, frankly, " Whata litlle thing you nre —a mere child! I always thought So¬ lon's sister Deborah wasa very difl'er¬ ent person from you. Are you quite sure you nre she?" His unconventional touo and laugh entirely restored me to myself, and I answered as frankly as ho had spoken, "Oh, I know what sort of person you thought I wonld be, if you thonght about it at all!"
" Now tell me," he answered, folding his arms, and looking curiously tlown at me, "and I'll promise toacknowledge ifyou tell truly; for certiiinly I tlid think about it, but not so much as I should have ilone if I had knowii the truth," he added in a lower tone, whieh agaiu set my blootl to scoreliiug my face; nut I would not be rendered dumb by that, so I answered demurely, " You thought I would be a tall, gauntfemaleofuncortain age, with high cheek-bones and squeaky shoes, in a huge, dark calico apron; now didn't you, Mr. Haynes?"
"I really hadn't got so far as the apron," hereplied, l.iughing,"although if I had known what a bewitching lit¬ tle article of female apparel they might be made, I should have done so, no doubt; but I confess I had imagined some such person as you desoribe, only a little more attractive; for Iknew my friend Solon here had an airection for that sister, and he is fastidious in his quiet way. I might have known he had something at home to make him so.
He paused a moment, during which I was deliberating whether it was my duty to sit down myself, or offer him a chair, being quite convinced that one of the two would be quite proper under the circumstances, for I had been hard at work all day, when he saitl, with a look down at rae that drove all fatigue out of m J' mind;
"Instead of which I find a little browii haired fairy, in a glowing warm- hued dress, a most captivating little white apron, aud—"
" Insteatl of whicii you find only a poor little couutry girl, in a dress that Brother Solon dislikes because it is fiery —a girl who even doesn't know liow to entertain hcr brother's visitors witliout talking about herself," I exclaimed, in¬ terrupting him, for I would nothave it go on so any longer.
Tlieu Solon came back aud reported: " Wecan eaeh have ahorseandasleigh, anda companion, if we can get one, Gerald, or we can take the double sleigh and all go together. What do you like best?"
" If Miss Deborah will go with me I prefer a single sleigh," he replied, glanc¬ ing laughingly at me. " I um still boy enough to bo fond of driving, and it is a privilege I don't often have. Will you indulge me by goiug with me? Do you think you can trust yourlife in my hands?"
Now, of eourse, I wauted to go. What young girl wouldn't have had her heart jump at the olTer of a sleigh- ride on a bright moonlight night, with capilal sleighing, and such a compan¬ ion? but I made-believe I wasn't as pleased as I really felt, and asked de¬ murely if he was sure he knew how to drive—if he had ever tlrlven any; add¬ ing ;that I was not fond.of bpipg thrown into a suow drift.
" Preposterous ! " o!(olaimed Mr. Hayuos, wlule molhor, who had just eome in from tho kitchen, stood smil¬ ingly by. ".Iust think, Mrs. Wayne, of hcr asking a great long follow like rae ifl ever drove a horse! I think I
blood ran riot in my veins. Something —the exhilarating air, the rapid motion or the brilliancy of-my companion- had transformed me lor the tune. I had Sling, laughed, and talked with all the abandon of a child, aud Gerald Haynes had also become transformed into a hoy; andwe gave ourselves up to the spell of the hour; so that when his arm stole arouud my waist, draw¬ ing me close to his side, with a half-in¬ telligible remark to the eft'ect that there must he no room for cold air to creep in between us, and he asked if he inight be allowed to claim me forhis little sis¬ ter too, as he had nono in the wide world, I nestled close to him, and frank¬ ly expressed my pleasure at the retiuest. And when we rode lingeringly home at last (I sighing in my lieart as home grew nearer and nearer,) and we drove up to thegate, I did not resist as he took me in his arma and ran up the ptitli aud to the very door with me ; and I'm afraid I only turned my face away a very little as he pressed a rapid, thrill- iug kiss on my lips—a kiss that burned there the whole night; for I had never received such a one before in my whole life.
On Friday we all went up to Uncle Ralph's antl spent the day. My tall, farnier cousins, honest and manly, but uncouth, unconsciously deepened my admiration for Gerald. X could not help contrasting them as they stood in the yard examining tho " stock," Ben and John ill their coarse working clothes, with their broad, stooping shoulders, and their huge brawny hands, red and coar.'^o from hard work, their heavy cow¬ hide boots, and their hearty but coarse voices, and Gerald, with his tall, erect iigure showing to such advantage in his perfcct-filtiiigsuit, his polished boots, and his hands whiter than mine as I had noticed witli shame the night be¬ fore. And yot, strong us this contrast was, it was uot the dress alone, but the clear well-modulated tones, the refine¬ ment of face autl manuer, that struck rae with sucli force that a sickening feeling rushed over me as I thought, must I spend my days among such peo¬ ple when I so long for lefined society! I W.IS growingposilively miserable over the thought, when mother's hand was laid on my shoulder; and lier voice roused a little from her wonted sereni¬ ty, exclaimed, " Why, Deborah, child! didn't thee hear Aunt Ruth ? She has been talking to thee this half hour, and thee looks .as though thee hadn't heard a word. What does thee see uncom¬ mon out there!"
Oh, I ditl see "uncommon thiugs." I was feasting my eyes on what was luxur.v for me, but witll a great sigh I choked baek my feelings, aud tried to lake an interest iu good Aunt Ruth's humdrum talk, striving to remember exactly my recipe for the sweet pickles I had jnst been making. But it was very hard.
On Saturday Sarah asked us all to tea. I mean Gerald, Solon and mo. In the evoning we played games until nine, wheu wc dared no longer indulge, for we had been brought up to strict obser¬ vance of Saturday night; and even to tieseerate it until niue was an unusual occurence; but Sarah's father and mother had gone to a neighboring town to s))enil Sunday, and lier oldest sister, Martha, who kept house, was evitlently so taken with Mr. Haynes that she not only countenanced usiu our dissipation, but participated in it, performiug her forfeits with great zest. As for Solon aud myself we strangled our conscien¬ ces, and enleretl into the games with al! our liearts uutil the bell rung for nine, when mother's face loometl up boforo me so reproachfully that my courage failetl, and I declared I coiiUl play no longer.
"Oh, btit you have a forfeit to pay first," cxeiaimed Geraltl, starting up. " You are not to get rid of that so eas¬ ily," and he marched nie up to Solon, and don't be lenient now, give a good tough one if it's to be her last."
" I ilon't know ofa tougher one thau to propose that she shall go through a marriiige-ceremony, as I've often heard her say she should never be married ; and Sarah has one to pay too, she must go through with the same."
" I haven't chosen you for my judge yet," .said Sarah, saucily, turning her radiant face to him ; hut I seized her arm, exclaiming,—
" Very well, let's be inarriod to each other," and wc instantly walked up to Gerald, retjuestiug him to tie the knot.
" The idea!" exclaimed Gerald, with well-feigned horror. " You know very well that two women cau't live in oue iiouse, aud the idea of being tied toeach other for life! I shan't consent to act the parson, but I will olVer my services in auother character—as bride¬ groom," and bel'ore I knew what he was about he had me undor his arm, while Solon bore ofTSarah, and we were mar¬ shalled before Martha, who in a re¬ markable Ct of eotigeniality had enter- edinto the joke, and immediately com¬ menced the words ofa mock-raarrhige- service then in vogue for sucli occa-
supper was all ready; bnt when moth¬ er came out, as she always preferred to do, to make the tea herself, there was¬ n't a drop of water in the tea-kettle.
"Why, Deborah, child, what ails thee ? Thee has acted all day as though thee hnd lost thy senses. Thee had bet¬ ter come down out of the clouds, aud leornTio be a better housekeeper before thee goes up again."
The color rushed to ray face, for in spite of mother's quiet ways I knew sbe was a keen observer, and litlle es¬ caped her sharp eye; so by great effort I succeeded in arousing myself to my usual interest in the afl'airs of the house, resolviug to wait until I could be by myself before I lived over the past three days again.
But my solace came. Every letter from Solon had au addition which gave it a new charm to my eyes; eagerly as I had always iveloomed thoso letters before, they were now thrice welcome. At first it was a message, then a post¬ script, iu a bold, manly hand; then it came till by itself—a letter to the "dear littfe brown-haired sister away ofl' in Maine;" and so it wenton, until I be¬ gan to Hnd thatl was two per-ions, liv¬ ing two lives. The one swept, dusted, made puddings aud pies as of old, chat¬ ted with the country folk, among Ihom but not of thera, trying to take iuterest in the petty affiiirs of a harmlessly gos¬ sipping neighborhood. The other tried to keep herself dainty and fresh to please one who had so often spoken of prizing those things in her; she studi¬ ed late at night and early iu the morn¬ ing that he might tliink her improved when they met—as he assured her they shouid soon meet—and she lived in a woi'ld of her own fashioning, surround¬ ed by intelligenee and refinement, till¬ ing her heart by pondering on these things.
So the days weut hy, and the hot midsummer came, when wearied city people throng out to the cool retreats of country side- and sea-shore. And the sultry August days brought us our guests again. Solon, taller, more grace¬ ful aud manly, improved in looks and appearance; and the other!—well ifto my eyes he was perfect before, then I demonstrated the truth of that wliich the world had declared impossible— that perfection will admit of increase.
If I trembled aud shrank back when he came before, still more did I do so now; now that I was so much raore auxious to appear well in iiis eyes!— now that he had become so much to me!
Aud, as I stood at my old post of ob¬ servation, behind the blind, I watched his affectionate greeting of mother, with eager eyes, while even ra.v cap¬ tious fancy could detect no difTerence in her reception of the two.
But his eager gianoo shot by her, through the doorway, aud his ardent face anticipated Solon's first question, " Where's Debbie, mother ?" So with ono glance at my own blushing face, I went forward to meet them. As before, I was taken to Solon's loving embrace, nnd when 1 was released and turued to the other, I gave one swift glance at his faee. There was so much in it that my own eyes fell. I dared not look again; and we met with a strong, flrm pressure of hands—a grasp that seem¬ ed never willing to loose itself; and that wasall.
But afterward, when the flrst bustle of their coming was ovor, and motlier had left the room for a momeut, Solon followed hor, and wc were left alone, I remember I was stantling by the win¬ dow, carelessly breaking the leaves from an ivy whicii latticed the win¬ dow, not daring to speak or look for a moment. Then, summoning all my courage, I turued sudilenly to address him; there he stood, close by me, with eyes brimful of love aud longing. I could read it plainl.'T; and as I stood before him mute, fascinateil by his look, without the power to withdr.aw my eyes from his, hestretelieil out his arms to me, with unutterable longing in his eyes and voice, as lie said: "Will my darling come to me now, as she never came before? Not tus ray little sister, but as my own true, loving wife, from whicii nothing but death sliall part me forever. Will she come?" .\nil in a moment I was folded close to the heart that was all ray own. My longings were satlsfled; my unrest quieted; I had found my home.
must manage to upset her to pay for that."
" If you threaten I can stay at home," I said.
" Whicii signifies that il I don't you will go," he rejoined.
"Thee musn't mind what that child says, Gerald," said mother, with a be¬ nign look at him, that maile m'e sure that she had already gone over to So¬ lon's sitle, and was deep in tidiniration of hini; for mother always thiuks just as Solon does of everybody; 'but I am very different. I choose to form ray own opinions, aiul lam not so easily taken capliye, yoq know.
" Who'll thee ask to go, .Sojon ?" said mother, while a rapid telegraphic glance shot between Solon and me, in¬ tercepted by a pair of dark eyes that fixed themselves most pertinaciously ou my face. " TheehadbetteraskMary Bowman. She was saying the other day that sho would like a sleigli-ride, and liadn't had ono for tho winter."
"Well, but mother dear, you know how her niother alwaj'S worries when Mary goes anywhere. I am afraid it would mako liur seriously unhappy lest Mary should get oold or be upset. I don't think I'd better ask her to-uight. Perhaps I eau get some one nearer home," and Solon shot out of the door like a flash.
" I'll warrant he's gone after Barah Lawtou," said mother, " and she can't even make her own clotlies! There's Mary Bowman does every stitch of sew¬ ing for the family with herown hands, and takes eare of her sick raother; and there isn't a better housekeeper in the village. Thee remembers lier dinner last fourtliday, Deborah," and poor mother gave a little sigh as she thought of her disappointed plans ai(d of Ijer possible future daughter-in-law.
Well,-wewent. Solon camein bring¬ ing Sarah with him, her golden hair and blue eyes peeping out from the depths bf her huge " pumpkin-hood;" and as she ran up stairs with me to get ready, we eouflded to each other our delight nt the prospect before us.
How bright the moon shone, and how the snow sparkled! how silvery- sweet rang out the bells on the still air, as we glided along, tucked in snugly and ^yarmly with bufl'alo-robes and blankets, ahd hot soap-stones at our feet.
I must not try to tell all that wassaid during that delightful ride. I can on.
siona,
"Bemember you are my little wife," whispered Gerald, as ho detained me for .tmoiueuthefore weetneredourO'.vn door that night; " give me a husband's privilege," and once niorehs pressed ou my unresisting lips a loug, long kiss.
Neither did the remembrance of that kiss leave me, even in my dreanjs, that night.
On Sunday we went in the forenoou to mother's meeting, where Geraltl aud Solon sat side bj' side, in most decor¬ ous silence, across the aisle from me, through the long forenoon, for the Spirit moved not, until just hefore the hand¬ shaking a good and saintly-faced sister arose, aad with peace hreatliing in ev¬ ery line ot lier face, saivl a few words of Christian consolation and encourage¬ ment.
In the afternoon .Solon, Gerald and I rode over to the Congregational church, some two miles away, for which Solon had a decided preference, possibly be¬ cause of the faet that Sarah Lawton's contralto voiee lent its music to the choir; but I am always charitable to- w.ards .Solon; so I won't insist upon that as the sole attraotion.
In the eveningmother had one of her bad headaches, antl went to bed early. After I had bathed her head, anil given her thp caniphor-bottle, she said:
" Now, thee go right back, Deborah, and stay with Uer.ald and Solon. I will call thee ifl w.ant anything."
So baok I went to *tlto sitting-room. Then Solon, after a fow resistless move¬ ments and glances out of the window, exclaimed, as though ithad at tliatmo- raent occurred to him, that he supposed lie ought to go and bid Sarah good-bye, as they would be oil' so early in the inorning. So we were left alone, Ger¬ ald and I.
He maue mc cmne and sit beside him, and he held my little red hands in his own shapely white one, while I blushed at the contr.ist foolishly enough. He told tne of their city life, of the opera and dther amusements; of concerts, whicli made my heart burn witli wild desires; of the shops of Art, where-one can feast the eye on the best paintings ^yhenever l)e feels inplineii; and of the places of publie interest; and my poor life seemed sq barren by contrast! I believe I .said soinethiug to that effect, ofmy iife spent in making bread and pies under mother's watchful eye; of sweeping, dusting, and sewing; my tiresome, nionotonoiis routine, every day repairing tlie ravages of the day previous, in that endless round that shall never cease so long tis we remain in thc laberuacle of the body. I spoke of it, I know, with distaste, but he said,—
" Don't you know, iny darling, that these very things are fltting you to mako the very best little wife in the world ? The ra.in who gets a wife well skilled in these matters is to heeuvied, if, in addition, sho has a loving heart and bewitchingly womanly ways, like my little sister here," and he smiled ou me so lovingly that my heart ac- know-leilged him as its king from that moment.
" You have been my litlle wife in jest—you are my little sister in earnest. What shall be it next?" he said, as'he folded me olose to his sido, and kissed me once more in that sarne mysterious, because lasliiig fashion. Tiien we heartl Solon stamping his snowy boots out¬ side the door. Well, tUe uext morning they went. I believe I felt dreary enough that next day. Never did housework seem so utterly distasteful to me .as then, and in spite ofwhat Gerald had said, I felt that if I lived in the city, and had white hands, and could play on the piano, I should be much better please with myself aud more attractive to my friends.
So I went through the day, dream¬ ing day-dreams, such as young girls of¬ ten dream, and was not fully aroused until an unwontly Bharp reprimand from my mother biouKbt me to my
lysay my head was In a whirl—the | senses, I had built the flre fortes, and
MATTEES MATBIMONIAI. Girls are sometimes sharp in urging men to ask the questions whicii by eti¬ quette they are not allowed to ask them¬ selves. A lover, vainly trying to ex¬ plain some scientific theory to his fair iuamorata, said:
" The tjuestioii is diflicult, and I don't see what I can do to make it clear."
" Suppose you pop It," whispered the blushing ilamsel.
" Miss Brown," said a young fellow to a brisk brunette, "I have been to learn to tell fortunes. Just let me have your hand, ifyou please."
"La! Mr. White, how sudden you are! Well, go and ask pa."
Thut reminds us of a story of Profess¬ or Wilson. A young man who had gained the affections of his daughter, waited upon "papa" and stated ills case, of whieli the Professor had a pre¬ vious inkling. The young gentleman was directed to desiro the lady to corae to her father, and doubtless, her obedi- dience was prompt. Professor Wilson had before him, in review, sorae work, onthe fly-leaf of which was duly in¬ scribed, " With the author's compli¬ ments." He tore this out, pinned it to the daughter's dress, solemnly led her to her young lover, and went back to his work.
Oftentimes a girl says " no " to an offer, when it is plain as the nose on her face, she means "yes." Thebest way to judge whether she is in earnest or not is to look straight into her eyes and never mind hor noes.
There are some people that never " pop the questiou" but once. They are cautious; they love with their whole hearts before they ask that all-impor¬ tant questiou, and they uever love again. Others go through life " pop¬ ping" to every girl they are fortunate enough to he introduced to, and tn'be treated civilly by, and are never an¬ swered "yes." He that says bluntly, " Will you marry me ?" lias no music 111 his .soul, or is a widower courting a house or farm.
"Poppiug the queslion " in Peru is very romantic. The suitor appears on the appointed evening, with a gaily dreasetl troubadour, under the balcony of his beloved. The singer steps before the flower-bedecked,window, and slugs her beauties in tlie name of lier lover. He compares her size lo that of a palm tree, her lips to two blushing rose-buds, and her womanly form to that of the dove. With assumed harshness, the lady asks her lover;
" Who are you, and what do you
want ?"
He auswera, with ardent eonlidenpe :
" The dove Idotidore! Thestarslive
in the harmony of love, tind whyshould
we not, too', love each other?"
Then the proud beiiuty gives herself awtiy, she takes her flower wreath from her hair, and thrq-sys it dowu to her lover, promising to iie his forever.
Some people consider these matters very philosophically. A lovo-smilten professor iu oue of our colleges, after conversing awhile with his Duleinea on the interesting topic of matrimony, concluded at last with a declaration, and put tho emphatic question of— " Will you have me?" "I am sorry to disappoint you," re¬ plied the lady, " and hopo my refusal will not give pain, but must auswer 'no.'"
" Well, well, that will do, madam," said her philosophical lover; "aud uow suppose we change the subject."
A gentleman known by the name of Dodd, who is a matter-of-fact business man, who always gets his goods at the lowest eash price, began to gat ratber advanced in years. He called on a lady frieud, and iuquired of her what she thought about the advisability uf his getting married.
" Oh, Mr. Dodd, that is an afl'air in which X am not greatly interested, and I prefer to leave it to yourself."
" But," says Dodd, ". yod are inter¬ ested; and, my deargirl, willyou marry me?"
The young lady blushed, hesitated. and flnally, as Doddjwos vefy well to do in the world, she accepted him. Whereupon the matter-of-fact Dodd coolly responded:
" 'Well, well, I'U look about, and if I don't fiud anybody that suits me better than you, I'U conie back,"
But often conversations in reference t<> these matters partake more of acer¬ bity. A very diminutive specimen of a man lately solicited the hand of a f^ae buxom young girl.
" Oh, no," said the fair but insulting lady: " I oan't think of itfor a moment. The fact Is, Jobn, you're a Uttle too big for a orsdle, and a iittle too amall to go to ohuroh with."
THE KECKI.EY-LIHC0L1I BOOK.
"Behind the Scene.?."
The following extracts from this cu¬ rious book refer to many of the most interesting incidents of the fivo years' life in.the White House, which the au¬ thoress, Sirs. Keckl ,(i, describes:
TIIE DEATH OP LMTIiE WILLIE.
Finding that WilllCoontlnued to grow worse, Mrs.. Lincoiiiuidetermined to withdraw her cards"orinvitation and postpone the reception. Mr. Lincoln thought that the cards lidd better not be withdrawn. Atieast he advised that the doctor be consulted before any steps were taken. Accordingly Dr. Stoue was called in. He pronounced Willie better, and said tliat there was every reasoii for an early recovery. He thought, since the invitations had been issuetl, It -would be best to go on with the reception. Willie, he insisted, was in no immediate danger. Mrs, Lincoln was guided by these counsels aud uo postponement was announced. On the evening of the reception Willie was suddenly taken worse. His inother sat by llis bedside along while, holding his feverish hand in her own, and watch¬ ing his labored breathing. The doctor claimed there was no cause for alarm. I arranged Mrs. .Lincoln's hair, then assisted her to dress. Her dress was white satin, trimmed with black lace. The trail was very long, and as she swept through the room Mr. Lincoln was standing with his back to the flre, his hand behind himaud hiseyes onthe carpet. His face wore a thoughtful, solemn look. The ru.stling ofthe satin dress attracted his attention. He looked at it a fewmoments, then in his quaint, quiet way remarked:
" Whew! our cat has a loug tail to- niglit."
Mrs. Liueolu did not reply. The President added :
"Mother, it is my opiuion, if some of that tail was nearer the head it would be in better style," and he glanced at her bare arms and neck. She had a beautiful neck and arm, and low dresses were becoming to her. .She turned away with a look of offendetl dignity, and presently took'the President's arm and both went down stairs to their guests, leaving me alone with the sick boy.
¦ThB reception was alarge aud brilliant one, and the rich notes of tiie JIarine Band in the apartments below came to the sick room in soft, subdued mur¬ murs, like tho wild, faint sobbing of far off spirits. Some of the young peo-
£le had suggested dancing, but Mr. incoln met the suggestion with an emphatic veto. The brilliancy of the scene could not dispel the sadness that rested upon the face of Mrs. Lincoln. During the evening she came up stairs several times and stood bythe bedside of the suffering boy. .Slie lovnd him with a mother's heart anil her anxiety was great. The night passed slowly : morning came, and Willie was worse. He lingered a few days and died. God called the beautiful spirit home, and the house of joy was turned into the houso of mourning. .1 was worn out with watchingand was not in theroom when Willie died, butwas imniediately sent for. I asslsteil in washing and dressing liim, and then laid him onthe bed, when Mr. Lincoln came in. I never saw a man so bowed down with grief. He came to the bed, lifted the cover from the face of his child, gazed atit long and earnestly, murmuring:
"My poor boy, he was too good for thisearth. Gotl haseallpdhinihorae; I know that he is mtibh better ofl' in Heaven, but Uieii we loved him so mucli. It is hard, htird to have him dio!" ! .
Great s^ibs checked his utterance. He buried his face in his hantls, and his tall frame waseonvulscd with emotion. I stood at the foot of the bed, my eyes full ot tears, looking tit the man in si¬ lent, awe-stricken wonder. H[is grief unnerved him, aud made hira a weak, passive child. I tlid niitdreain that his rugged nature could Iba so moved. I shall uever forget tliose solemn mo¬ ments—genius and greatness weeping over love's idol lost. | There is a grnn¬ deur as well as a simplicity about the pieture that will never fade. With me it is immortal—1 really believe that I shall carry it witll me|across the dark, mysterious river ofdeath.
ill's. Lincoln's grief was inconsola¬ ble. The jiaSo face df her dead boy threw her into convtilsious. Around him love's tendrils hiul been twined, aud now that he was! dressed fpr thc tomb, it was like tearing the tendrils out of the heart by their roots. Willie, she often said, it spared by Providence, would be the hope and stay of hor old age. But Providence! had not spared him. The light faded from his eyes and the death dew liad g.ithered on his brow. I
In oneof her paroxysms of grief the President kindly beht over hiswife, took her b.y the arm aiid gently led her to the window. With!astately, solemu gesture, lie pointed toithe lunatic asy¬ lum.
"Mother, do you seo that large white building on tho hiUytinder? Try and control your grief, or it will drive you mad, ami we may have to send you there." |
DfiDl'.S WERE
from foreign potentates, but Andrew Johnson, the successor of Mr. Lincoln, never oalled on.the widow; or even so mucn aa wrotealineexpresssng sympa¬ thy for her grief andthe loss other hus¬ band. Eobert called on him oneday to tell him that his mother would turn the White House over to himin afew days, and he never even so mucb as Inquired after tbeir welfare. Mrs. Lincoln firm¬ ly believed that Mr. Johnson was con¬ cerned In the assassination plot. ' In packing, Mrs. Lincoln gove away everything Intimately connected with the President,'as she said she could not bear to be reminded of the past. The articles were given to those who were regarded as the warmest of Mr. Lin¬ coln's admirers. All of the presents passed through my hauds. The dress Mrs. Lincoln wore on the night of the assassination was given to Sirs. Slade, the wifo ofan old and faithful messen¬ ger. The cloak, stained with the Presi¬ dent's blood, was given to me, as also was the bonnet worn on the same mem¬ orable night. Afterwards I received the comb and brush Mr. Lincoln used during his resideuce at the White House. With this same comb aud brush I had often combed his head. When almost ready to go down to are- ceiition ho would turn to mo witli a quizzical look:
"Well, Madam Elizabeth, will you brush my bristles down to night?"
There was much surprise when Mrs. Lincoln left the White House as to what her sixty boxes, not to count her scores of fifty trunks could contain. Had the government uot been so liber¬ al iu furnishing the boxes, it is possible that there would have been less de¬ mand for so much transportation. The boxes were loosely packed, and many of them with articles not worth carry¬ ing away. Mrs. Lincoln had a passion for hoarding old tilings, believing, with Toodlcs that the.y were "handy to have about the house."
The bonnets that she brought with her from Springfield, iin addition to every oue purchased during her resi¬ dence in Washington, were packed in the boxej and sent to Chicago. .She re¬ marked that she niight find use for the raaterial some da.v, and it was prudent to look at the future. I am sorry to say- that Mrs. Lincoln's foresight in regard to the future was only conflned to east off clothing, as she owed at the time of the President's death S"0,000. Mr. Lin¬ coln knew nothing of these hills, and the only happy feature of his assassina¬ tion was that he dietl in ignorance of them. Had he known to what extent his wife was involved, the fact would have embittered the only jileasant mo¬ ments of his life, I disclose this .secret in regard to Mrs. Lincoln's tlebts, in ortler to explain why she should subse- queiitly have labored under pecuniary embarrassment.
It is charged that a great deal of fur¬ niture was lost from the White House tluring Mr. Lincoln's occupation of it. Very true, and it can be accounted for in this way: In some respects, to put the caso very plainly, Mrs. Lincoln was "penny wise ami pound foolish." AVhen she moved into the Wliite House she discharged the steward whose busi¬ ness it was to look after the afl'airs of the household. When the steward was dismissed there was no one to superin¬ tend afl'airs, and the servants carried away many pieces of furniture. In this manner the furniture rapidly ili.sap- peared.
SONQ OF THE 'WINDS.
now THE DEDl'.S WERE CONTRACTED.
Mrs. Lincoln was extreiuisly auxious that her iiusiiand should be re-elected President of the Uuited States. In en¬ deavoring to make a display becoming her exalted position, she had to incur many expenses. Jlr. Lincoln's salary was inadequate to meet them and she was forced to ruu in debt, hoping that good fortune would favor her and ena¬ ble her to extricate herself from an em¬ barrassing situation,
" What llo you think about the elec¬ tion,'Lizabetli ?" shesaid tome one raorniug.
" I think that Mr. Lincoln will re¬ main in tlie Whito House ftiur years longer," I replied, looking up from my work. j
" What makes you think so 'J Some¬ liow I have learued to fear that he will be defeated."
" Because he has hecn tried and haa proved faithful to thej best interests ot tho country.—The people of theNorth recognize in him au honest man, and tlicy ure willing to confide in him, at least until the war has been brought to a close. So Mr. Lincoln is eertnin to be rcrelected. He represents a princi¬ ple, and to maintain this principle the lo.yal people of the loyal .States wiil vote for him, even If he had no merits to commend hira.
" Your view is a plausible one, 'Liz- abeth, and your confldence gives rae new hope! If he should be defeated, I do not know what would become of us all. To me, to him, there is more at stake in this election than he dreams of." , ^
"What can you mean, iMrs. Lincoln ? I do not comprehend."
"Simply this:—I liayc contracted large debtsi, qf whicb ho knows noth¬ ing, and which he w'iU be unable to pay if he is defeated."
" What are your debts, Rlrs. liin¬ eoln?"
" "They consist chiefiy of store bUls. I owe altogether about S27,000: the prin¬ ciple portion at Stewart's in New York. You understand 'Lizabeth, that Mr. Lincoln has but little ideaof the ex¬ pense of a woraan's wardrobe. He glances at my ricli dresses, and is hap¬ py in the belief that the few hundred dollars I r.btaiu from liim will supply ail m.y wants. 1 must dress in costl.v materials. To koep up appearances I must havo inoney—raore than Mr. Lin¬ coln ean spare for me. He is too hon¬ est to make a penny outside of his sal¬ ary ; consequently I had, and still have no alternative but to run in debt."
" And Mr. Lincoln does not even sus¬ pect liow^ much you owe'?"
" God, no!"—this was a favorite ex¬ pression of hers--" and I would not bave him suspect If he knew that his wife was involved to the extent she is, tlie thought would drive him mad'. If lie is re-elected I can keep him in ignor¬ ance ofmy affairs; but if hels defeated, theu the bills will be sent in and be wUl kuow it;" and somethiug like a sob escaped her.
Wheu in ono of these excited moods she would flercely exclaim :
"The Bepublleau politicians must pay my debts. Hundreds of tbem are getting immensely rich off the patron¬ age bf my husband, and it is but fair that they should help me out of mv emhrarassment. I will make a demand of them, and when I tell them tbe facts of the case they cannot refuse to ad¬ vance whatever mouey I require."
THE FUKNITDKE OP THE WHITE HOIJSE.
For flve weeks Mrs, Itluooln was con¬ flned to her room. Packing afforded qultearelief as it so closely occupied us that we had not much time for la- nientation.
JOSS siLLmesisHs.
It strains a man's philo.^iophpe the wust kind to lafl'when he gits beat.
Awl ov us komplaiii ov the shortness ov life, yet we awl waste more time tlian we use.
Don't mislake arroganse for wisdom; many pepel hav tliought tha wus wise when tha was oiila windy.
The man -who karit git ahead with¬ out pullin others back, is a limited cuss. '
The principal tlifl'erence between a luxury aud a necessary, is the price.
Whenever the soul is in grief, it is takiug root, aud wheii it is in smiles, it is taking wing-
" Give the devil his due," but be oareful there ain't much due liim.
After a man has rode fast onst he never wants to go slow again.
Faith that is foundcil on an arnest aud a truthful oonviokshun, Is beauti¬ ful to beliold ; but faith that is founded slmpla on courage, ain't enuythiug more than good grit.
Evra sorrow has its ,,twin joy: the fun ov scratchin almost pays for hav¬ ing the each.
Tliose families who are really fust class never ar afraid that tha shall git cheated out uv their respecktabilitj-, while the codfish familys ar always nervous lest tha mite.
Jt won' do to stir up a man when he is thiuking, enny more than it will a pan ov milk when the cream is risiug.
It is easy enuff to raise the devil, but he's a bard crop to reap.
The oula sure resipee tew govern mankine with is the rod; you may festoon it with flowers and case it with velvet, ifyou pleze, but it is the rod af¬ ter awl that dus the bizness.
We ar told tbat a contented man is happy, and we inight have been told at the same time that a mud turtle could fly ifit ouiy bad wings.
A Wife's Love.—Woman's love, like tho rose^ blossoming in tlie arid desert, spreads its rays over the barren plain of the human heart, and while all around it is black and desolate, it rises more strengthened from the ab¬ sence of every other alarm. In no sit¬ uation does the love of a woman appear more beautiful thau that of a wife. Parents, brethren, and friends have claims upon the nfl'ections-but the love ofa wife is a distinct and difl'erent nature. A daughter may yield lier life tothe prescrviitlonof aparent; a sister may devote herself to a sufl'ering broth¬ er ; but the feelings whicb iuduee her to this conduct are nut suoh us those which lead awife to follow the husband of her choice through every pain and peril that can befall him, to watch ovor him iu danger, to cheer him in adversi¬ ty, and ever remain unalterable at his side in the depths of ignominy and shame,
It is a heroic devotion which a woman displays in adherence to the fortunes of a hapless liusband. When we behold her in domestic scenes, a mere passive creature of enjoyments, an intellectual joy, brightening the fainily with her endearments, and love for 1 he extreme joy whicii that presence and those en¬ dearments are calculatetl to impart, we can scarcely credit that the fragile heing who seems to liolil her existence by a thread is capable of supporting the extremeof human suffering; nay, when the heart of raan sinks beneath the weight of agony, thatshe should main¬ tain lier prestine powers of delight, and, by her words of eomfort and pa¬ tience, lead the murmurer to peace ond resignation.
O, list to the winds, how lhey whisper and
whisper, I.Ike nn Infant tlspcr. That sinks to rest ou Its mother's breast, Wltn dream lug eyes and sort good-ljyes. And.cheelts losc-hucd as the sweet sunrise. O, list to the whispering winds 1 For I feel as a ehlld, so cairn and mild. As if an angel had on me smlleil. When I list to the whispering winds.
O. list to the winds, how thoy moan and moan, with a pitiful toue, '
Lllce awidow's cry when the stormswceps by. And clouds of winter bednipe the sky. O, list to the moaning winds! For I feel the smart ofa sinful heart. And In sorrow and dread and terror start. As I list to the moaning winds.
p list to the winds, how thoy roar and roar.
Ijllte the torrents that pour
Frem the cataract's steep to the seething deep,
with a broad and a loud and a lerrible sweep.
O, list to the rotirlng winds!
I'Or I feel this night, in my giant, might,
I could battle nn army and wlu the Ilght,
As I Ust to the roaring winds.
O, list to tho winds, how they swell and swell, Lliroe funeral bell, isound.
That shakes the ground with ils deep, ilread And arouses the echo around aud around; O, list to the swelling sounds! For I hear the roll of Ihelr awful toll. And I bury myself in a fathomless soul. As 1 list to the swelling winds. O, list to the swelling winds!
A STOEYFOETHE^LITrLEFOIKS.
AN ADVENTURE AT THE SK.VSIDE.
Little Jessie went with her papa and mamma to spend the summer at the sea-side. She had never been near tlie sea before, and she was almost wild with delight when she saw the beauti¬ ful ships sailing on the water, and heard the sound of the waves, as they dashed against the shore. There were a greatmanychildren living in the house where Jessie went, and every day they passetl hours together, playing ou the beach; building forts and bouses, in the sand, and digging great holes, for the water to fill up, when thc lidesbould come in.
Jessie's mamma often told her that she must stay with the other children when they were on the beach, for she was afraid to allow ber to wander off alone.
What pleased Jessie more than any¬ thing else, was flnding shells. She was making a beautiful collectiou to give to her papa on his birthtlay, and as she wished it to be a great surprise, shedid not tell any one of her intention. One day, when she was tiretl of buihling sand forts, she started off to fill her bag with .shells, forthe next d.ay would be her papa's birthday. She was so busily enguged, that sbe forgot her mamma's warning, not to wantlcr ofl'alonc,-and she walked along forsome time with¬ out looking up. At last she raised her head, aud looked behind her. What was her surprise, to.seeherlittlofricnds far, faraway; so far, imleed, that they looked like little blaek specks upon the sand. What could poor Jessie tlo? Her shoes were so full ol sand thatshe coultl walk no further; and besides, shewas ao tired! .She must sit down and rest. Directly in front of licr was a large stump ofa tree, whicli had been dug up by the roots, and thrown upon thc shore. It WIUi used by the boys as a kind of nut-door bathing house. " O," thought little Jessie,—" I will just elimb up on the lop of that old stiitup, take the saud outof my shoes, Jiut my shcU-i nicely In ray b.ag, and tiien run home." She felt a great deal better when her shoes were oil', but still her foot ached, and wereso tired tltat she thought she would rest a little while, and run home all tho faster to makeup for lost time. "I'll lay my head against this old root, which makes a fine pillow," said she, "and look out at the waves for a few minutes." .So saying, she arranged lierself comfortably, ami soon fell fiuit asleep. She slept' for .some lime, and when she awoke, she was greatly sur¬ prised to find herself, as shu supposetl, In the middle of the sea. "Water, water, all around her, ami tlie waves breaking up against thc sides of tliu old stump! She screamed aloud in the greatness of her fear, but no one heard her. She got up quickly tind stooil upon tlie stump; and then she saw that she was not in the niitldle of thc sea, because she could sec the shore not far oil', but the water was too deep for her to wade through.
Poor little Jessie! All alone on the stump of an old tree, with tho water coming higher and higher all the time; for the tide was coming in.
She thought she should be drowned ! The little black specks upou the .sand were no longer to be seen. Tlie children had gone horao.
" Papa! papa! " she screamed; " mamma! mamma! O,stiiDeltoclijcome to me, or I .shall die." Tliere was no answer. The sound of her own voice frightened her; and, covering her face with lier hauils, she sank tlown almost fainting. Then she thought of herdcar mother aud how she had promised Iier that she would never walk oil'idone; and now, this was the terrible punish¬ ment far her tllsobedience. 0, if slie could only see her for one moment, put her arms around her neck, and tell her she was sorry! but uo! no oue could hear her cry. No oue would eoiuo to help ber.
Suddenly the thought struck her,— "God can altaai/s he.ar mo;"—and kneeliug down, she put lier little liands together, and said: "Pray .Qod send some one to mc, and forgive me for my Saviour's sake, amen." Slie felt so much better after this, and had. so much more hope, that she shouted agaiu with all her might, "Help, papa! help!" and then, to her great delight, a voice answered, "Jessie, I am here; papa has pome." A few moments more, and she wtis safe in her father's arms. O, how glad her dear mamma was to sec.her when she got homo.
.\ nice warm supper was wailing for her, and warm clothes to make her dry and comfortable. Theroom never-look¬ ed so pretty before, nor the flowers on the carpet so bright; but, best of all, she was safe at home, with her papa and mamma.
No .scolding did they give their litlle daughter, hut that night in Jessie's room, where no human eye i.'ould see tlieni, the. mother prayed tliat (jod would give her darling a thankful and obetUenl heart for Jesus' sake.—-Y, Y, Observer
LEGAL N.0TICE3.
•. .EXECD'^OBS' NOTICE.
Estate of Jacob Breneman, late ofProv¬ ldence township deceased.
L^^F^\**'-'^taraeutary oil tiic estate of ...aid ,i„Jf™??'^„^,'">^'nK'"^'=" granted to lhe uu- H.,?l^,^t^n' PTsons indebted to the said es- i,'!,'5i?,„^i?i .i"^'^,''" """"= paymeut, and those '„''M,S*',f„ior«f,™''^<""'""'»>"d pre.sent them to tho undersigned .-xeoutors
JAOOli ERKxemXu, residing lu
,„n tt^j-t^^^^^^ B1'''-M':>IA.\', rcsldlus lu ma23^.t-.« ...¦¦ Manor tMrnshrp.'
EXECUTOR'S XO'ncsi.
Estate ofHenry Weidman, late of Up¬ per Leacock township, deceased. LKTIBRS Icstamenlary on salil estale hav¬ ing been granted to the un.lersijjned, all pel sons ludehted thereto are requested to make Immedialc Ijaymcnl.uud those having cluims or demands against the same W-IU present them for settlement to lho uudersiguetl, residing Iu said township. ma20-C«t-L7 WM. WEID.MAN-.
E-VECUTOB-.S a-«THIE.
Estate of JacobKreider, lateof the city of Lancaster, dec'd.
IETTEnSTestamontari-on said estate liav- jlng heen granted to tho undersigned, all fici-sous Indebted thereto are reiiuested to make mmediate payment, and those haviug claims or demands against the samo will present them wilhout delay forsettlement to the un¬ dersigned, residing in LllMe Brilaiu twp.
SAMUEL E. FAIIIL..\.MB, may 20 ot-27
ADMIXISTnATUU'N XOrlCE
Estateof Catharine Lutz, lale of West Cocalico township, deceased.
LETTERS of admiulsirallon on said estate having heen grauted to Ihe undersigned, all persons Indcbte.1 thereto are requested to makelmmediate paymeut,and those having claims or demands atiuinsl the same wlll pre- sentlhem wilhout delay forsettlement to the undersigned, residiuglu Ephrala lownship. .'i.vilUKL WOLf', jnncIOOt-liO Admlnislrator.'
AnMisrisTR.trwiLs- x-oricE.
Estate of Andrew Hershey, late of West Hempfield township, dec'd.
LETrEHSof administration on said estate having been granted to the undersigned, all i)ersonsindehtedtheretoarc requested tomake Immediate payment, and thosehavingelalms ordomandsagainsttbesame wlll present them without delay for settlement to tho nnder¬ signeil, residing In said towuship.
.T. HOFFMAN HERiSHEV, .\BKAHa.M IIEtUJlIEV, m.aylli-5t« ICI Adminlslriuors.
AnMivisrK.vTou-s xttriCK.
Estate of Mary Ann Leaman (an in¬ fant), lale of East Lamjiet'.'r lown¬ ship, deeeased.
LETTEIW of adminLstration on said esUile having heen granted Xa the undersigned, he gives notice lo all persous indebted to said de- dedent to make Immediate payment, and lho.se having claims or ilemands against thc said decedent wili make known tbu same to the undersigned wllhont ilelay.
A»RAII.\.M S. LAXDW, Admlnl.strator, ma:!7-i;i-" 'iA\ Residing In E. Lampeter tW],.
Al>.«IN'I.STIt.VT |
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