Lancaster Examiner and Herald

              VOL XLIII.
LANOASTER, PA.,
AUGUST 18, 1869.
EXABOqiTEB A  HEBAXB.
PUBLISHED KVEEt WEDHEBDAT* At Bo. 4 Koxtli Queen Street, Lane&Btdr, pft
TEHM]^-.<2.00 A TKAB IS APYAKCE.
nno. A. HIKSTAin)   * E. M   Kt-INE, Editors and Proprtetors.
IF YOU SHOULD £V£B GET WAKBIED.
Ifyou staonld ever get married, John,
I'U UU Toa vbat lo do- Go get a little tenement,
Jnst big cnoueli for two! And one apare room for company,
And one spare bed -within It— And If you begin love's life aright,
\ou'd betler thus begin It. In furniture be moderate, John.
And let lho stuffed chairs .wall: One looklng-glMs will do for both
Yourself and loving mate; And BrUB.sels, too, and otlier Ihings,
Which raake a (Inc appeantncc., Ifyou can hotter aflbrd It, they
AVIU look heiter a year hence.
Somo think they must have pictures, John,
rtuperb and costly, too; Your wifo will he a picture, John,
Let thnt suflice for you. Remember how the wise man said,
A tcn( and love within it Js l)etter than a splendid house,
With bickerings every minute.
And one word as to cooking, John—
Your wife can do the best; For love, to make the biscuit rise,
Is better far than yeast. No mutter if each day you don't
Urlng turkey to your lable; Twin better reilsh by-and-by,
Wheu you aro hetter able.
For all yon buy pay money, John- Money that very day!
Ifyou would have your llfo run sniootii, There Is no betlor waj-.
A nolo to pny Is nu ugly thing— If thing 5'ou choose to call it;
When It liunes o'er a man who has No mouey in his wallet.
Aud now, when you nro married, John,
Don't try to ape the rich; It took them muny a toilsome year
To gain their envied niche. And If you should gain the summit, John,
Look well to your beginning; And then will all you win repay
The toil nnd care of winning.
" Oh! no, thank yon, Cousin," she repUed, with a provoking smUe play- Ing around her well-formed mouth. "I am rather fond of driving; besidea, you do not tnow the way as well as I do, and these ponies are apt to become res- tivB snmetfmes: SO I think I had better
, Fred,"
HOW I MADE A FOOL OF MYSELF.
As I sat alone at breakfast, I was Roiiiewliatsurprised on receiving a most courteous aud pressing invitation from my uncle Jeremy, to spend ashort time witli himself aud family at his seat in Warwickshire, previous to my leaving Eugland. The old gentleman and my father had been eatr.tnged from each Other for many years through some sliglit family quarrel, so tiiat 1 liad uot Been my uncle Jeremy, save on one occasion, since my boyhood.
In consequence of my father's death, I had been summoned from America, wbere I Iiad been pushing my for¬ tune with success for a considerable time; and now, having settled my af¬ fairs, I was preparing to cross the Atlantic when my uncle's letter reached me.
Jfy mother aud elder brother, with whom she uow resided, were the only near relatives I had in Londou. Fred hadlongsinee settled down in tlie world with a good and kind wife, and well knowing that my mother would be sure to receive every attention uuder his liappy roof, I cared little to remain in England a homeless bachelor, while anything in the shape of marriage was .still further from mj'rambling tlioughts. Of course, my brother was extremely obliging, would do anytbiug he could lo.serve me, aud expressed himself opeu at any momeut to stake a handsome wager that lie could introduce me to at least halfa dozen angelic creatures, the jiossossiou of any oue of whom would prove a fortune in itself; but to .ill tliese geueiouH oflers I turned a deaf ear. Jjiberty was sweet, and I feltiu no liaste to sacrifice it on the altar of Hymen. Not that I was a wild young gentle¬ man, who did uot care for the comforts and attraction of home; but I didn't wish to have the honors of a household tliriiHt upon me so loug as I felt happy and conteuled alone.
.Six and twenty and aloue! ha, ha? No oue to bntbcr and worry you—no .sliopiiiug—no Midsummer aud C'lirtst- mas bills—freo as the air—caiiital!
I rose from my cliair, jiiit my back lo thomantleiiicce, litacigar, ami smoked away fnr a couple of minutes mostfuri- ouslj', tbeu I con.suUcd my wateli, rang the bell, orilereil handsome, resolved to .see my lirnlher Fred before I accepted or declined my uncle's invitation.
" }Iere's au unexpected ejiistle I re¬ ceived at. my hotel this morning, l-'red, and I waut your advice upon il," .said I, on entering his ofiice.
" What, are you goiug to get married, after all?" lie asked.
"Are you going to drown yourself, .sir?" said I.
"No, thank you," repliedFred, laugli¬ iu g.
" Well, then," said I, "don'task non¬ sensical questions. Uucle Jeremy lias sent mea very polite iuvitation to spend a week or two with him in Warwick¬ shire before I leave England, and I thought I would just run down and ask you what I should do in the matler."
" Why, accept it of couise," said Fred.
" Well, but does it not seem strange?" I asked, " for I always thought thathe and our father were never on very good terms."
"No—they were iiotfor mauy years," replied Fred; " but matters were put right between them .some time ago by Uncle Jeremy apologizing and other¬ wise behaving like a gentleman."
" You never told me of that, Fi said I.
" No, because I thought you would come to know all about it in due time. But I see liere, Tom," continued my brother, returning tlio letter, " he even ofTors his friendship, should j-ou ever settle in Eugland; and that would be Bomething worth having, I can tell you."
" Yes, doubtlesa it would," said I; " but I've gota balance at my banker's, and can manage very well over the water. Hesides, I don't thiuk I should like to remaiu in England, uow that I've got so used to the Yankee fash¬ ions."
" Bosh, all bosh, Tora, you'd become an Englishman agaiu iu no time," re¬ plied Fred, smiling.
" Perhaps so," said I, "but I doubt it. However, I'll follow your advice and telegraph to Uncle Jeremy, saying I'll be at Marston Hall to-morrow."
"But won't you dine with us this evening."
"Oh, certainly," said I; "at six as usual?"
" Yes, at six," he replied.
Aud we dill dine at six, and a jolly eveuing wo had ; but strange to say, not the least alhrnion waa made to my intended visit to Uuele Jeremy'^ until I broached the subject myself, by asking iuy brother if he tliought I should enjoy the exeurKlon, and what sort of people I raight expect to meet there.
" Well, not many ofany sort," he re¬ plied ; " for I don't thiuk they keep much company; but J'OU will have a kind host and hostess, and her daughter Agnes, {who will, I suppose, have to do duty) as your companioii-iii-cliicf."
"Daughter Agnes!" I exclaimed, " Why she was a mere child when I left Englaud."
" Quito true, Tom," continued my brother; "butshe is a woman now, an<l, if you dare hazard an opinion, a very fine one loo." Then glancing mischie¬ vously across the table, he added, "but of course we fjike you to be proof against pycn femiuiiie perfection itself."
" At any rate, Fred," I observed rather snappishly, "I'm proof against any assaulLs from lhat ciuarter."
" All right, Tom; only don't make a fool of yourself, tlmt's ;il)," .said my biolher.
" No fear of that," I replied, now al¬ most wishing 1 Imd declined the invi¬ tation.
Notliing more w.is said on the sub¬ ject during lbe evening, and when I took leave of my biolher and his family I immediately determined not to aQbrd my fair cousin the least reason to san- pose that I had come lo Marston Hall with the iutenllon of falliug iu love with her.
On mj' arrival at the railway station where my uncle had promised to joiri me, I was disappointed at uot finding him, and was about hiring a convey¬ ance to convey me to my destination, when up dashed a dark-pha!ton, driven hy a very remarkaby handsome young lady. She drew up hastily and beck¬ oned me toward her.
"Mr. Lawsou, I presume?" said the lady.
" Yea, that is my name," I replied, bowing.
Sbe at once introduced herself in the most unaflected manner, excused the absence of her father on account of in¬ disposition, hoped I had enjoyed my journey, was vary glad I had come, be¬ cause they saw so Ifttje company; and in fact, behaved herself just aa if we had long been familiar to each other.
At length, after seeing my lugg^e Bll right, I took my seat, and then asked in'"f politest manner forpermission to tate the reins.
Wii^iyif-ffMt'n-i'
keep my post till we get home," I merely  bowed   in   acquiescence,
though I did not exactly like her little
sneech, and the next moment we were going at a terrible speed along a broad, winding path which led through an ex¬ tensive park, beyond which, on a slight eminence, stood Marston Hall,
"See, there's onr house, through the trees, right in front of us. It stands on a lonely spot, does it not?" asked my fair companion.
"Very secluded," I replied laconi¬ cally, remembering the determination I had made about falling in love.
"Well, we shall be there in a few minutes," said she; "aud I rejoice to think that, howeverfatiguiugourdrive may prove, you will not have exhausted yourself with couver.satioii."
"Hang it," thouglit I, " this is right dowu impertinence! though I almost deserve it. By Jove! she takes things exquisitely cool." However, I smiled, and said that I had been trying to take a flying glance at the splendid scenery.
She gave a low, short, merry laugh as she replied, " that's exactly what I've been doing, for want of other occupa¬ tion ; but at this speed one cannot ob¬ serve mucli."
"There you are right," said I; "and ifwe were iu any other place we should certainly be fined for furious driving."
" By the way, are you fond of riding ? asked my cousin abruptly.       ,
" Well—yes," said I, with some hes¬ itation, " but I am not a bold iiorse- man."
" I am sorrj- lo hear that," she con¬ tinued with evident interest, " for it is au exercise of which I am passionately foud. I delight in a good tight run across the couniry; for noihing raises my .spirits half so much. Butsee, papa is lookiug at us through the dining- room window, and John is waiting to take charge of lhe ponies ; so you must be ready lo alight the iustant I stop."
In auother minute my eccentric, not to say incomprehensible cousin, did stop, and I alighted as quickly as pos¬ sible, but not without losing my bal¬ auce, and wondering what could be the meauing ofsuch unseemly haste.
Throwing the reins to the servant, my cousin followed me, but with such agility that Iscarcely noticed the glance wbich fell upon me from her laughing blue eyes, but stood before the entrance lo the flue old mansion, expecting to have the pleasure of giving her my haud.
" Wliy did you not permit me to as¬ sist you?" I asked.
" Simply because I made up my mind some time ago never to give any gentleman more trouble than I could belp," she replied, willi a iieculiar smile.
As she finished speaking, the door opened, and Uncle Jeremy, his venera¬ ble physiognomy beaming with kind¬ ness and good humor, came forward lo meet us, giving me a hearty welcome to Marston Hall. Feeling, however, dissatisfied with myself, and not over pleased with my cousin, I took the earliest opportunity of retiring lo my room, as raucli to collect my scattered thoughts as to dress for diuuer.
"She's a strange, unaccouutablogirl," thought I, surveying the neat and ele¬ gant chamber which had been prepared for my reception; " but I am astonish¬ ed at finding her so miujculine and un¬ ladylike in her manners and behavior. Why, 'pou my (wuscience, she deports herself more like a young fox hunter than a gentleman's daughter." Then I slood gazing at the beautiful view be¬ fore me, slrelchiiig far away as the eye could reach, and linally dismi.5sed my cousin from my thoughts with the con¬ solatory reflectiou lhat the chances were very remote of my ever falling in love with one who appeared lo de¬ light more iu manly .sports than wo¬ manly duties.
Soou afler ilinner my uncle related the cause of his long estrangenioiit from my father, and the manner in wliich tbey became reconciled, concluding with the expression of sincere regret that the misunderstanding had not been consigned to olilivion long before; nud however much I felt inclined to lind fault with tlie odd ways of my cousin, Icould not help admiring my uncle's candor aud good f.'eliug. In fact, 1 dismi.ssed the suliject from my mind, under the conviclion that, like most other family jars, there had been faults on botu sides.      '" * »      «
I had now been a guest at Marston Hall nearly tliree weeks, duriug whieii time I had made my.self familiar with tbe surrounding couutry, invariably joining my cousin in her long rides, drives, and wild, out-of-the-way ram¬ bles ; and, strange lo say, the first few days sufllced to make us tolerably good frieuds. For I soon perceived that she by no means answered my firstdescrip- tion, but, on the contrary, poBseased many good quaiilies. which, in spite of ray bachelor prejudices, I could not help approving, though I could never find courage enougli tp indicate such apiiroval iu words, until I so far forgot myself as lo express mysurpri.se, in a bantering tone, that so accomplished and delightful a companion had not a host of beaux at her feet.
" Sir;" she exclaimed, in a voice and with a glance lhat made me deciiledly uncomfortable, "I do not like trifling. Itis wrong aud foolish in our sex, but in yours it is simply iinenUurable. Flirting is not aud never can be love. I might indeed have many admirers, but 1 do not want Ihem. No, cousin, when I acknowledge an admirer, the feeling must be mutual."
"If I have offended you, my dear cousin," said I, "surely you will not refuse your forgiveness?"
" You have not olTended me," she re¬ plied ; " only I wish j-ou to understand that I feel strongly aud think deeply ou the subject of your remark, aud there¬ fore cannot sufl'er the advances of lovers whom I neither respect for tbeir wis¬ dom nor esteem for their goodness." Then, in a light, satirical tone, she .idded, " but in truth, I do not think I shall aceeptan ofler, however tempting, for » long tirae yet. I love ray own way, cousin, I like liberty and adraire independence. In short, I ara such an odd, queer person, so very unsentiraeu- tal in my conversation with youug geu¬ Uemen, that I verily believesometimes I shall enjoy the exquisite pleasure of dying an old maid."
On hearing lliia confession I laughed outright."
" Of course you may laugh, sir, and BO may 1; but that won't increase my prospect of marriage," she added smil¬ ingly,
" Kg.id, Fred, was right," Ihough I; ".she really Isa splendid giri." I fell my love of bachelorhood growing less. " Now, if .she wereonly lender, delicate and .sympalhizii.g at home, instead of being so iiarlial lo horses, 1 would al¬ most forswear my determination not to make a fool of my.self. But tush! why shnuld J give away to such nousen.se? I'll think no more of her."
"Hallo, cousiu, have you fallen inlo a brown slmly through admiring the color of your nag?" said my compan¬ ion, with oue of her short merry laughs.
" No—no—that ia—I waa just absent for the monient," I slammeroiit out.
" Doubtless present in spirit with .some fair but distant object," she ob¬ served, again laughing louder and more merrily tban before.
Tills thrust roused rae thoroughly, and perceiving thatmycomiiaiiion was bent upou trying to get mo into an ill- humor with myself, I resolved to tell a fill, and nip her project in the bud.
" No, you aro quile mistaken, cou¬ sin," said I very gravely, " for I was just then thinking of theadviaability of returning tn London."
" Well, then, I beg to inform you, in the plainest terms possible, that you are extremely unkind to let any such idea euter your head," she replied iu a half ofrended and half-playful tone; and then, as if desirous ofnot pursuing the subject further, she continued, " But come we shall uever get back to the Hall at this pace. Here is a nice little run before us, Don't be afraid of the fence; itisn'tmuch, and yourhoi-sehas gone over it often."
Away we went at a flying gallop. I followed after her, as she cried, " Keep well up, cousin—you've Improved won¬ derfully."
I did keep as "well up" as I eonld, but on leaping the horse stumbled, and I fell. I don't know how long I lay insensible on the ground, but I do know that the accident proved a serious one. jj[
Many hours elapsed before I recovered CoqseLouBness, and on opening my eyes, I found myself in Marston Hall, feeling very weak, wjth a» fndlstlnct recollec¬
tion on my brain of having had a long but painful dream. As I lay gazing at the various objects around me, I could scarcely believe that I was under my uncle's roof, there seemed to be sneh an air of deathlike stillness reigning over the whole household. I listened for some time, but could not hear the least indication of either life or motion, and was beginning to get weary of my op- preaeive loneliness, when a slight rust¬ ling noise near the door of the apart¬ ment arrested my attention. Then I immagined I could hear the subdued accents of a low, sweet voice, and in another moment the door opened slow¬ ly, and my cousin Agnes stood before me, fairer and lovelier than ever, her handsome features now saddened with an expression of deepest sympathy, her whole manner so changed that I looked upon her as upon some ministering an¬ gel. X made an attempt to speak, but she raised her hand and motioned rae to keep silent.
" Y'ou have been iil, cousin, very ill," she said, in a tone scarcely louder than a whisper, "and now you must keep perfectly quiet. To-morrow perhaps you will be much better, and then you can speak to me, but not now. I have been anxiously waiting until you awak¬ ened, that you migbt lake some refresh¬ ment which I have prepared for you ; but I must beg your promise uot to tliink about anything until you feel quile well again."
I motioned obedience, wilh a faiut, but grateful smile. She theu withdrew as noiselessly as she earae.
Many a weary day and long night elapsed before I recovered from the dreadful shock mysj'stem had received. Many times I listened eagerly during that long illness for my kind and lovely nurse; and every time she came I seem¬ ed to acquire fresh strength and energy to bear bodily pain, which I was com¬ pelled losufi'er.
At length I found myself sufflciently strong to read and walk witbin doors, and the recollection of the happy days I passed as a willing invalid at Marston Hall repays me now a hundred fold for my previous sufferings.
Well, I regained my wonted health at last, but felt uo desire lo return to London. In short, there was some¬ thing that would keep flashing through ray mind, making my heart beat quick¬ er than usual, espeeially whenever I chanced to be alone with my cousin. I becarae dull, pensive and abseut, a change which my cousin Agnes was not long in observingandcallingmelo task for; but Instead of giving a ration¬ al explanation of the cause ofmy mood¬ iness, I lold her that If she would join me in a ramble through the park on the foilowing day, I would then and there make a very important confes¬ sion.
" Confession!" she echoed. " Nay I do not want to be made acquainted with your doings; but if it is anything that annoys you, and I cau help you get rid ofit—"
"My confession is not one of wieked- edness," said I, eagerly interrupting her, "aud you cau, ifyou will, help me out of my urouble."
" Very well, then," said she smiling, "provided you do not ask me to do any¬ thing repugnant to my couscience, I promise you my helj). But, cousin,' she added, speaking very deliberately, "why delay j-our statement until to¬ morrow? There is uo time like tlie present, eapecially for penitent people; so Ifyou will graciously reveal what it is that weighs upon your raind, I will listen to you wilh moat exemplary jia- lience."
I looked at her for a moment in si¬ lence, aud then replied: "No cousiu, uot now. It is not a trifling mailer I wish lo speak of, but one that in¬ volves the happiness of two lives."
"ludeed!" she exclaimed, in aslight- ly altered lone, while 1 could delect a sudden flush ou her uow half-averted cheek.
"Courage!" T whispered lo myself. "Now, Isllie lime forme to ascertidn my fale." Then seizing her hand with passionate tenderness, aaid, " (Joiisiii Agues—dearest Agues—you will not de¬ ny me the pleasure of calling you by that sweet uame? Nay, turn not from me," I contiuued, as ahe madea despe¬ rate effort to release her hand, "until I have told you how deeiily, foudly, truly I have loved you; how, day afler day, I have seen and felt your goodness and worth. Ob, do not then plunge me into utler despair by rejecting lhe offer I now make of my love, my devotion—of the most precious gift man can give to woman, and which even you havo al¬ ready taken from uie—my heart."
I paused, Imt my companion did not .speak. I gazed iuteutly into her inno¬ cent eyes, and there I read her verdict. I was made happy for the remainder of my existence.
"But," said my beloved Agiie.s, speaking very solemnly and looking quite distressed, " I thouglit you had better reconsider your words, for I am afraid-"
" Afraid—of what, dearest ?'' I asked interrupting her. "Thatyou have—" "Good heavens!  tell me," I again exclaimed, "whathave I dono?"
" Made a fool of yourself," she re¬ plied, with a merry twinkle of hereye. I saw through the mystery in a mo¬ ment. Fred's wife had informed my cousin of the conversation which took Jilace between Fred and rayself theday previous to my coming to Marston Hall. So I laughed, and Agnes laugh¬ ed, and then we both laughed together, until the joke had been heartilj' ajipre- clated on both sides.
Aud now it only remains for me to add that I did uot leave Eugland ; that shortly after I had put the question to my cousin Agnes, brother Fred and his family weresuramoned to Mara ton Hall, where a very happy wedding took place; and when my brother reminded me of what I had done In the way of making, a fool of myBeIf,_I told him I did not
 not
care, so loug as I felt convinced that I had shown nothing but sound sense in wooing, winning and wedding my odd, but good and loving coqsin. .' 1.1 .. How TO Lenqtken Lifi!.—Hall's .lournal of Health contains the follow¬ ing rules for insuring long life :—
1. Cultivate an equable temper; ma¬ ny a man has fallen dead in a flt of pas¬ sion.
2. Eat regularlj", not over tliree times a day, and nothing between meals.
3. Go to bed at regular hours. Get up as aoon aa you wake of j-ourself, and do uot sleep in the day time, at least not later thau ten minutes before noon .
4. Work always by the daj-, and not by the job.
5. Stop working before yon are very much tired out—before you are " fag¬ ged" out.
0. Cultivate a generous and accomo¬ dating tompoi'.
7. Never cross a bridgo bofore j'OU come to IL; this will save jialfthe troub¬ les of life.
K. Nevor cat wdien j'ou are not hun¬ gry, or drink when you are not tliirstj-.
!). Let your appoti te al way.s come u n- invlled.
10. Cool OfT in a place greatly warm¬ er than the oiiein which j'on have been exercising; this .simple rule would pre¬ veut incurable sickness, and save mil¬ lions of lives yearly.
11. Never resist a call of nature for a .single moinent.
12. Never allow yourself to be chill¬ ed " through and through ," it is this which deslroys ao many a year, in a few days' sickness ' called, by some, lun tion of tbeluug.s.
l-'i. Whosoever driuka no liquid at meals will add years of pleasurable ex¬ istence to his life. Of cold or warm drinks the former are the most perni¬ cious; drink at meals induces persons to eat moro than they otherwise wouhl, as any one can veiifj' by experiment; and it is excess in eating whieii devits- lales the laud with sickness, suH'ering and death.
14. After fifty years of age, if not a day laborer, and sedentary persons af¬ ter forty, should eat but twice a day, in the morning and four In thoafternoon; nersons can soon accustom themselves to a seven-hour Interval between eat¬ ing, thus giving the stomach rest; ev¬ ery organ without adequate rest will " give out" prematurely.
days'  sickness   froni  pneumonia, g fever or inflama-
The hat was passed around In a cer¬ tain congregation for the purpose of taking up a collection. After It had made the circuit of the cliureh, It was handed back to the minister, who, by the way, had exchanged pulpits with the regular minister, and fie found not a penny In it. He inverted the hatover the pulpit cushions and shook It. that Its emptiness might be known, then raising ha eyes towards the celling, he ^claimed with great fervor, " I thank God that I got my hat back from this congregation."
CHAELEY BEirrON'S SCHOOL.
He was eighteen years ofd, made up of Nature's own vitality, and developed by the gymnastics of farm life—a clear, blue-eyed young fellow, with a broad white brow, and fun lurking around hia honest lips. He was pitcliing ofT cornstalks from a hay rigging In his father's barnyard, when trustee Ban¬ croft came along, and leaning over the barnyard gate, shouted stanchly—
" Charley! What do you say? 'We want you to teach our school this win¬ ter!"
" Oh! yes; I'll teach the school for J-ou," came the response, carelesslj-, as he kept on pitching off the fodder for the cows.
"How much will j-ou teach for?" asked the trustee, beginuiug to cut notches with his knife onthelnpof the gate.
" Forty dollars a month, and board myself."
" Oh! you ean't mean tiiat, Cli.irlej-," said the trustee, with assurance. " We have never paid nuielioverhalf of that. We ought to get you for less. You're a beginner, you know-."
At this Charley Benton turned about and looked at the man he had been talking with. He took ofThis hat, and throwing his brown curls in a somer¬ sault over the back ofhis head, hesaid pointedlj--
" You dou't mean, IMr. Bancroft, thnl j/oit are In earnest in this talk?"
"Earnest? I am, most certainlj-. Whynot?"
"I'll tell J-ou why. I've been to school all ray life with tliese boj-s and girls, and we've beeu children together.
Moreover, I've arranged to go to D	
Academy uext week, for the w-iuler."
"Well, that can he diapenaed with, you know-. We've been talking the matter over, and thought we'd like to have you teach for us. How mueh will you take?"
" Just what I said, Mr. Bancroft. If I teach I must be paid for it." There was HO half-way house In tlie boy's dis¬ position. A sad face would send a tear down in his heart, and a niggardlj- in¬ sult would feel the tonic of his fist.
Mr. Bancroft whittled away at the notch awhile, and then said—
" Y'ou'U give me uutil to-morrow to decide, I suppose?"
" I'll give you until sundown." And at sundown Charley Benton was hired to teach the winter school In which he had been a part and parcel, and whicli was famous forlts advauced scholarship as wen as for having one of the worst boys In the world to deal with. That was Harvey Raymond, the deacon's son. He had been expelled from school for the past four or five successive win¬ ters, and was a conceded reprobate. Tlie deacon was an odd old fellow, with enough of Puritanic notions In his head to spoil a dozen ingenious children aud foster a race of spiritless blockheads that did not possess enough of energy or genius to storm a snow castle. Seeing Cliarley passing a diij- or two later, he hallooed to him.
" Y"ou expect to teaeh our school this wiuter, Charley?"
" Y'es, sir; I expect to," was the re¬ ply.
" Well, whatare J-on going to do w-ith Harvey?" growled the deacon.
" Do with Harvey? Why, he nnd I have always been good friends."
" Yea, I know t/ial. But you know he alwaj-a disturbs the school. Whul are you going to do with him ?"
" You think Harvey a bad boy, dou't yon, deacon?" asked Charlej-.
"Bad? Ofcourse I do. He is one of lhe worst boys I ever saw-, and he'll never know- anything. He will make you troublei" And the deacon sliook his head ominouslj-.
" Deacon, I don't think Harvey a bad boj-. He is-the smartest aud biggest hearted boy you've got, and I am going to treat him accordinglj-, and advise ynu In do the same. 1 don't lliink j-ou do right bj- Harvej-, deacon;" and Charley Benton tiinied his blue eyes straight on the deacon, w-ho might have thonght the lad a conceileil young ail- viser if he had not know-ii him from a child.
Monday morning came, and school opened wilh half a hundred pujiils. There w-ere half a dozen young w-omeli Charley had llirleil with, and tw-ice as many boya about Cbailey's age, anil some older ones. And heretofore he had lieen their jday fei low and compan¬ ion. It was altogether a trying time for tbe young teacher, and his face might have been a shade paler w-lien he made his opening speecli. He slood up quielly furainoment, and aflersending a look straight into each individual faoe, said—
" Scholars—You and I have liecn playmates and pupils togetlier. You kuow all about me, and 1 know all about you. The trustees have hired me lo teach the school thia winler, and have pledged them.selvea to austain mo in whateverl undertake, j-/i//j<ortm-o>i,(/. I iuteiid to help you as best I can, aud I want you to help me. More: if there is a single scholar here who does not come wilh the intention and desire to learn, I want him to leave at once; but I hojie none will leave. In school I am Mr. Benton. In school w-o are to be scholars together, for I expect lo learu lis much as you. Out of school I will be Charley, if you like, and your plaj-- fellow as heretofore."
He had been sucli a jolly, fun-loving J-oung fellow, that the girls, with whom he had always been a favorite, had cackled over the "fun" they should bave In school; and the boys had crow¬ ed In a proportionate manner. But his " speech" suggested other possibilities, and they at once recognized the feeble foundation of most of their prospective mischief. They knew him well enough to know that he had uever failed in anything he undertook, without a big reason for It.
The morning session passed off or¬ derly aud well. In the afternoon one of the girls Chariey had flirted with, and had been on Intimate terms of ac- guaintance, took the Initiative in hav¬ ing the "fun." He allowed her to enjoy it for a short time, and then w-alking to where she aat, bent his head dow-n to her ear, and whispered very confiden¬ tially, " Maria, I wish you would step to my desk a moment; I want to speak with you."
Maria imniediately arose, while a vision of proffered gallantry flitted through her mind. Chariey took up her book, following her, and lUiked her lo take a seat until he should have time —he waa busy just then. He gave her a seat behind a high fronted desk, where she could see no one, and whereshesat until Cliarley found time to talk wilh her, whicii was alter the scholars were all dismissed. The giris went out gig¬ gling under their hoods, and one or two felt a little jealous of Chariej-'s prefer¬ ence. Ihit they never found out what he said to her, and as he didn't take her anywhere, itreipaiuedamj-.sterj-. That Chariey did talk lo her, w'e know of a eerliilnty—lalkeil until tears stood in his eyes, as in hers, and she never theieiifler displayed any more incliua- lion for thai kind of" fun."
Afiiiirs passed on smoothly for two or lliree days after, with the exception of Harvey Itaymond. Charley took no¬ tice in a negative way of the boys be¬ havior, but said uolhiug until, at the ond of the fourth day, ho lapped him on the slioulder wilh—
"Harvey, I wLsh you'd stop after .school a moment; iM-aiit to talk with you. After the boys and girla w-ere all gone, Charley jiassed around lo the atove, where Harvey stood tapjiiug the lop ofit with his leathern mitten.
"Harvey, you and I have always been good friends, haven't we?" asked the teacher.
" 'Veii.firsl-ratc, Charlej-. There ain't a boy in the neighborhood I like belter than I do j-ou."
" Then you believe 1 am vour friend, and honest in what I .say ? "
" Yes, I do tbat, Cliarley."
" Well, now see here, Harvey. Y'ou tliink you are a bad boy, ami slujiid, loo?"
" Yes, I b'pose I am ; everybody saj-a so." And tbe boy's chin went ilow'n towaril bis jacket.
" Harvey, I don't believeone n-ord of it. I thiuk you are the smartest boj- in your father's family. Which of your brothers do yoij think smarter than you?"
"Joe. He reads In Hist'ry, and I'm only in the Firet Reader."
" That Is true. But you beat us all in phiymg ball and wrestling. And ymi can outrun us all, too, can't you, Har¬ vey?"
"Yes, I can. But that ain't like readin' and cipherin'," he urged strong¬ ly, looking up agaiu.
" But you have never tried to excel iu those. Now I believe If you will re¬ solve to study wilh all your might, you will be ahead of Joseph before next spring. And, Harvey, I want to be proud of you, I believe you've the stuff
in you that ruenil^, made of, and I want you to conviaoS your father and everybody else thatlyou are neither bad nor stupid. I'll helfeTon all I can ; If I don't have titne'Jn: school, I'U help you after, or at^anyWue vou will come to me at my room •tfJather's. There's too much of you,E4i^ey, to waste your life lo satisfy ^omeaeople's desire, for you havn't an en'emlyin-tbe neighbor¬ hood who wants you toknow anything. But/do. 'SVIU you <»^, Harvey?" And the strong, true hand ot Charley Ben¬ ton w-ent tow-ard that of Harvey wilh his heart iu it.
A strange look had come inlo Har¬ vey's/ace, flrstof dcsjiair, then of hope, aud then of triurapliaiit resolulion; and taking the teacher's haud w-ilh a grip like life, he said, " I will, Chariej-, I will!" And tho resolution was never broken.
The scholars began to w-onderamong themselves what had come over Harry Haj-inond, for he had good lessons for the flrst time in his life, and was so quiet. About a w-cek later the deacon mado a positive demonstration.
"Charley, what's the matter with Harvey?" he blurted, half savagely.
" Why, I didn't know anything was the matter with him," he replied.
" Well, something is the matter. He sits upnlghtafter uight until midnight, poring over his books. Now-1 want to know what's tbe mallei—w-hat you've been doing with him?"
" Ouly treating hira as he deserves, and as you ought lo have treated him long ago," and the " winner of souls" paased on.
It need hardly be added that Harvey realized his teacher's prophecy, and Is lo-day one of the best lawj-ers in the Westeru Slates. His brother Joe runs a lively establishment; anoiher brother tied himself to a 11 ve weight, in the way of marrying a foreign girl of lesa men¬ tal calibre than his owu ; aud the oilier brother peddles stencil tools. AsforCh.irley Benton, lieisslill J-onng, and a strouger, truer, braver soul does not exiat out of heaven. His " first sehool" was typical of the raan williin hira, and the man williin sits enthroned iu a face I see just over uiy shoulder, and which I honor and love above all others.—.American Plirenolog'ical Jour.
THE FATHEE'S LESSON.
I had been married fifteen years. Three beautiful daughters enlivened the doraestic hearth, the youngest of whom was in her eighth year. A more happy and conteuted household wna nowhere to be found. My wife was amiable, intelligent, and contented. We were not wealthy, but Providence had preserved ua from want, and we had learned that" contentment without wealth is better than wealth without contentment."
It was my custom, w-hen returning home at night, lo drop into one of the many shops that are constantly ojieu in the business streets ofthe metropolis, aud purchase 'some trifling dainties, such as fruit and confectionary, to i>re- sent lo mother and the children. On one occasion I had purchased some re¬ markably fine apples. After the repast, halfa dozen were left untouched, and my thrifty companion forthwith re¬ moved them lo the place of deposit, where it w-as her custom lo jircserve the remains of our knick-kiiacka. A day or two after, when I had seated myself at the table to dine, she said to luosmi- ling, "So father h.is found tbe w-ay to my aafetj'-box, haalie?" I was .it a lo.sa lo understand the meaning, and desired her to explain.
" Have you not been iu mj- draw-cr ?"
" What draw-er?"
" The ujiper drawer in my chamber bureau. Did you not lake therefrom Ihelargestoflhejiiiijiius 1 had jmlnwaj- from the giris?"   "No, 1 ilid not."
"You llid not?" "Not 1! 1 have uot seen an ajiple since tbe evening J jHirclia.seil them."
A slight cloud ji.iRsed'over the couii¬ teuance of my wife. She w-as I rotibled. The lossof the ajijile wius in iLself no¬ thing; lint wu had carefully instructed our children not lo ajiprojuiale lo their use any article whatever of lamily eon- sumption, without permi.ssiou; when the demand was at all reasonable, il had uever been denied thera. She w-as loth to .suspect any one of the oM'ense; we had a servant girl ill the familj-, but asshe w-.ia siipjiosed lo know- uolhing of the iijqde.s, ray wife hesilaled to charge it ujion her. She at length broke the sileuce by saying: " \\'u mu.st examiue the afliUr. I can hardlj- tliluk one of the cliildren w-ould ao act. If we lind lliem guilty, we mimt re¬ prove them.   Will you please lookiiito
The girls were separaielj- brought into my preseuce—the eldest one first.
" Eliza, did you lake from your raolli- er's draw-er an ajiple? "   " No, sir."
"Maria, did j-ou lake from your uiolli- er's drawer an apjile?"   "No, sir."
" It must have liecn taken by the ser¬ vant ; call her lo me" .said I, aildres.siiig my wife.
"Nell, how came you to take from the drawer of your mistress, witbont permission, the largest of the ajiples she liadjilaccd there?" " Wot apples?"
"Did you not lake apjdes frnm the drawer of J-our mistress •:"'   "No, sa."
Nowitwasevidentlhat falsehood ex¬ isted somewhere. Could It be that one of my children had lold me a lie? The thought harassed me. I was not .ible lo allend lo business. I went to the store but soon returned again. Mean¬ while, the servaut-girl had communl- coted to her mistresa thatshe had seen our j-oungestgo inlo the garret with a large apple the morning before. Ou examinalion, the core and several jiieces of the rind were found upon the floor. I again called Mary tome, and said lo her affectionately:
" Mary, ray daughter, did you not go into the garret J'esterday ?"   "Yes sir."
" Did you go there w-ith an apple ?"
"No, sir."
" Did J-ou noiice anytliing on the floor?"
"No, sir,"
I was unwilling to believe my sweet child capable of telling me a falsehood, bnt appearances seemed agaiust her. •rhe fault lay between her and the serv- ant.and while I was desirous to acquit my child, I did uot wish to accuse un- jusllj- the negi-o. I therefore took Mai j- into a room alone ; I spoke to her of the enormity of lying—of the necessity of telling the truth-of the severe peu¬ alty I should be compelled to inflict ujion her if she did not coufesa the wliole to me, and wltli tears in mj- oj-es urged her lo say that she had done it, if indeed she had.
Graduallj' I became convinced of her guilt; aud now I felt determined she sliould confess it. My tlireatenings were not without efl'ect. After weeji- ing and protesting her innocence, ami weejiiiig and again iirotestiug, my tlireatenings seemed lo alarm her; and falling on her knees, sho .said' "Father
NO. 40
I llid lake the apple." Never shall 1 fo
forget lhat moment. My child coufcssed thatshe was a liar in my jneseuce!
Suppressing the emotion, I retired. Mary rising from her position, ran to her mother, and In ajiaroxj-sm of grief cried oul: fVIolher, 1 did iiot lake the apple, but fatlier made mo confess that Idid."
Here was a new aspect of allairs. Lio iiiiiltiplicd ujion lie! Could it be pos¬ sible? My ilear Marj', who li.ad uever been kiiow-ii lo deceive ua—so afli;ctioii- ale, so gentle, .so truthful In all the past —could it be jios,si tde that she was a con¬ firmed liar?" Necessity was stronger than the lenderuesa of the father. I chastised her for the firsl time in my life—severely chastised her! It almost broke her heart—and I may a<l<l, it al¬ most broke mine also.
Yet Mary was innocent! After- events Jiroved that the negro was the thief. She had conjured up the story of the garret, know-1 ng lhat Mary would not deny liaving been there; and to makethecircumBt.ance.'<stroiigeragalnst her, had strewn ajiple-rinds on thefloor. I never thiuk of the event without tears. But it has taught me a useful les.son, and that is, never lo Ihrealen a child into a lie, when it may be he is telling the truth. Theonly lio I ever kuew Mary lo tell me, I myself forced upon her by threateuings. It has alao fixed in my mind the detormjjialion to em¬ ploy no servant in ray family whom I can Jiossibly dowithout.—IIulVs.Jour¬ nal of Iiealth.
A gentleman Indiscreetly asked a la¬ dy how  old  she  was.   She  reflected
" Let me see. I was eighteen when I w-as married, and my husband was thiriy ; now he Is twice thirty, that Is sixty; so, ofcourse, I am twice eighteen, that is tliirty-six.
The first day a littlo boy went to school the teacher asked him ifhe could spell. "Yea, air." " Well how do you spell boy? "Oh, justas otherfolka do,"
said: '
STTSAK'S SISTEB.
A country editor in Illinois has been having a prolonged debate on the wo¬ man question.   Hear him:
I was sittin' In my offlce, speculating in my own mind whether on the whole It wouldn't be best for me to give my¬ self away for the beneflt of my family, wben there came a knock at the door.
There, saj's I, is some one anxious to subscribe for the El Pasco Journal, so I uttered in a loud voice, " Come In."
She was drest In a pair of store boota and an iron gray set of spectacles, and she walked up to me with a majesty Inhermeln. I knew who It was the minute I set my ej-es on her.
It was a woman.
I eracefully aroae and said, " How are you, ma'am, was you wiahin' to sub¬ scribe for the El Paaoo Journal f" at the same time dipping my pen in the ink aud openin' my suliacription book. This alluz gels 'eui. It looks like biz¬ nis.
It did'nt get her.
She flxed her glassy eyes on me and
;id: "Young man, are yew anadvocate for the holy caws of woman's rights?"
"No, ma'am, " said I, "I'm a Pres¬ byterian."
"Air you, " she said, "prepared to embark with us over the sea of ekal suf¬ frage?"
" Madam," said I, " I halnt no objec¬ tion to takin' a quiet sail with j-ou, provided the boat aiu' leakj-, and you'll do all the row-ing."
A smile perused her features for a inoment, and then she said, "I am wil¬ ling to sufl'er for the caws."
" Yes," said I, In a polite and softenln' manner, " It'll cost onlj- two dollars, and we'll send It to auy address for au eutire year."
" Hev J'OU a wife ?" she asked.
"I hev," said I, wondering what she was comuiin' at. " So that yon see I could not marry j-ou ef I wanted to ever so much." I throwed this In as a .soother.
"Air J'OU willin' that she should share with me the burdens aud trials of thislife?"
" I ain't no ways perticklar," said I, " an I'll let her shoulder the hull lot ef she has a hankerin' thus."
" Wood you cousent that she should go to the poles ?"
" She kin go wliere she pleases," said I, " she generally duz."
" Y'ew air a hole soled man" said .slie, and throwin' her armes around my neck, latt wildly.
" Git out," said I, " w-hat air you up to? I ain't one of them men.   Stop."
After much labor I succeeded in un- looseniug her hold and aot her dowu in a chair. I judged from couduck that she stood in need ofa few moral obser¬ vations.
"You air an impulsive female," I said. " Your uature is at once sponta¬ neous and oulbreakiu'. You need a Jiair of marliugails. Cousider what would bo your state ef a man's wife was lo catcli j-ou a huggin' of hira in this style."
«Sbe wiped her face with her dress. She had on a dress. I forgot to men¬ tion this fact In speakiu' of her specta¬ cles.
" I am a worker in the caws of Wo¬ man's Bights."
" Yes," said I, " j-oo air. You ought to bo ashamed of j-ouraelf. I should judge J-ou w-as oue of them lobby wo¬ men the Chicago Tribune correspon¬ dents speaks of. But j-ou can't come your nefarious arts over me, I'm steel¬ ed ag.aiiist 'em all,"
" I should be pleased," she said, " lo go arm and arm w-ilh j-oii to the jiolls."
"No you dou't," said I, in alarm, " nol if I have anytbiug to say in tlie inalter. I w-o'iit go with you—uot a single darned pole."
"Y'ouug mau," said she, " hast thou children?"
"Ihev," aed I, "aeven of them. C;in yon shou- as good a recoid ?"
"Wood you," said she, "Iicvj-our girls grow iij> and be inarried: to base, .sordid men, w-ho woiiM takeaway llieir Jioiitical riles and allow 'cut.no I'raii- ¦ehises?"
"Darn the fratieliise," saj*s I, in a rag(!, thej' are the thing that wonian Jiut on behind togive 'em the Grecian iiend. Ef my darters ever go lo wear- in' 'em—''
"No, uo," said she, " thej- are jian- iiiers."
"Well," said I, " jwnniers or fraii- clii.ses, or whatever .you call 'em, 1 am ojijiDsed lo 'um. Tiiej- are onnalural and hiimjitj-. They degrade the form into a likeness of a camel, aud bring lovely women down on all fours like a cat."
" Then," said she, " come with mc and w-e will emaiicijiate w-oinan from lhe slavcrj' of dre.ss."
" No," said I, with some severitj', " I hev no w-ish to take the close :aw-ay from any woman. Wimmiu without close w-ould be a sad speelakle, particu¬ larly ill winter when the liow-lin' blasts jirewail. Who air j-ou, ally w-aj- ?" I asked of  mj- viaitor.
"I am ajiilgrim," she s:ud, "look¬ ing lo tbe Ar/itator, a uoosjiajier ilevo¬ led to the caws of femail suflrage in Chicago."
"Well," said I, calinlj-, " the wlm- min in Chicago need .soiiitlilug of this sort. Where them that air married never kuow on goin' lo bed at night but what on w-akiii' up In tlie mornin' Lliej' may be divorced, and them that ain't married spend their lime in belliu' how many times they can be married, and divorced within a month. The wiinmin In Chicago need agitaliii' powerful. Keep a stirrin' of llfem up el you please. The more you agitate, the better for 'em."
With these words I arose, and lelliii' her lo set still until my return, I stole softly down slairs. 1 have not beeu back since. What will be the effect of leavin'afemailagitalorslltln'iiimyseat the whole of this time I no not, but if shew-aits until Igo back her iialience will be of cast Iron,
MATBiJtONy.—Mauy persons are ex¬ tremely uuhapjiy in the married slate, because tbey were forced into connec¬ tions against their own choice, or com¬ menced them voluntarily from sordid inolives, and not from the influence of a rational aud reciprocal esteem. Others review their union witb regret, because Ihey matched Ihemselves with unsuit¬ able companions, in a precipitate, heed¬ less, or clandestine manner, or because they indulged expeotalions of happiness whicii uo liumau virtue could authorize, aud which uolhing but juvenile ardor and iiiBxperience could excuse. Many of the best formed alliances are some¬ times changed iuto sources of the bit¬ terest aorrow, by inconatancy and cruel neglect ou one side, or by strange iuat- tenlion, or by susjiicioua levity, on the ollier. Some even lioueataud jiioua jieo¬ ple are know-ii to render e:icli oiher mi.serable by indulging cross temjiers or bj'an ohslinale, uncbaiilable adher¬ ence to din'erent modes of religion. Many also mar tho haj)j)ine.ss their un¬ iou might olherwise ail'ord, by wishing lo exercise unreiuionable autliorily; in which rcsjiect, we jircsuiue, even the ladles are not quile innocent; we may likewise add, the want ofan ojieii ami unreserved coulideuce in everything lhat concerns their niulual inleresLs aggravated by the absence of true re¬ ligion, whoae aalularj- Intliience, if du¬ ly felt, would soften the asjierilies and improve tho endearments of life To these causes the greatest number ofuii- happj- niatches may be ascribed; wliich instead of restilliug from incilation and love, originate in the perverseness of uiankind themselves, and might easily bc removed by muluai candor, jirii- deiice and self-governuieut.
Not long ago an elderly lady entered a railroad carriage at one of the Ohio atjitions, and dislurlied the passengei-s a good deal w-ith complaints about a most dreadful " rhuraatiz" that she was troubled with. A gentleinan present, who had himself been a severe sufferer with the same complaint, said to her: "Did yon ever try eleclricily, inadam? I tried it, and In the courae of a abort lime it cured me;" " Electricitj-," ex¬ claimed theold lady; "yes, I've tried it to mj-saliafaelion. I wasslruc/; bi/ liffhlning about a year ago, but it didn't do me a single morsel o' good."
In oue ofour large cities, ashort time ago, a AVestern editor w-as met by a friend, who, laking him by the hand, exclaimed: " I am delighted to see you. How longare you going to stay?" ¦" Why, I think," said the editor, ¦' I shall slay while mj' money lasts." "How diaappolnted I am," aaid the friend, "I hoped you were going to stay aday- or two."
The boy, who, when asked to what trade hewoulUwish lo be brought up replied, "I will be a Trustee, because ever since papa has been a Trustee we have had pudding for dimier," was a wise child iu hia generation.
BY AND B7.
Byandby!  1¥e say It soltly.
Thinking of a tender hope. Stirring always iu onr tiosoins.
Where so many longings grope.
By ond by!  Oh love shall greet ns
In a time that Is to come. And the fears that nmi dereat ns,
Tlim ShaU all be stricken dumb! By and by!  The monrnfnl sorrows
Clouding o'er onr aky to-day. Shall be gone in glad to-morrows—
Shall be bauisUed quite away!
By and by I  We soy 11 gently,
Looking on onr silent dead. And we do not think of earth-life,
Bnt ofHeavon's sweet life instead.
Byandby! "We look in yearning Toward the harbor of the blest,
And we see the beocou's burning In the ports of perfecl rest.
Byandby!   Our ship shall anchor,
Ifthe tide ond wind nm fair, Some dat/ in tiie port of Heaven,
Wiiero our lost and loved ones are.
By and by! Oh .say it softly. Thinking not of earth nnd care,
Cut tho !>y and btj of Heaven, Woi ting for us over there !
A STOEY FOK XHE LITTLE FOLKS
SOMETHING ABOUT COAL.
Every day at four o'clock, Elina went lo her Aunt Julia's to recite her lessons. But on Saturdays, if she had been a good girl, and learned her lessons w-ell all the week, her auut alwaj-s had some pleasant surprise planned for her. If It was a dull, cloudy day, she told her a slory; but if it was a warm, sunshi¬ ny day, they had a little picnic in the woods, or lliey look a drive In the old farm wagon, or Aunt Julia Invited a few liltle friends to meet Elma at her Ilouse, or they did any ofthe tbouaand aud one thinga that Elnia's little heart hankered after. And Elma always ended her holiday l)y staying lo lea, aud eating a turnover wilh her initials cut in the upper crust.
One bleak Saturday, when the wind whistled in the trees, and roared around the corners of the house, aud the sharp, sliiigiug cold crept in at every crack, freezing the milk in the pantry, and nipping everybody's flngers and toes, Auut Julia drew her chair in front of the warm, eoal fire, aud began her sto¬ ry-
" A great many j-ears ago, there was no North America, uor Soulh America, nor Europe, nor Asia, uor Africa; but the world was all Oeeanlea."
" How many J-ear..-, Aunt Julia?" ask¬ ed Elma.
" Well, we will say two or three mil¬ lions, so as to be sure lo keep within bounds."
"But the world is only six thousand years old," said Elma, delighted at a chance to air her knowledge.
"Nevermind, little wiseacre. Don't you be tryiug lo overthrow all these pretty theories of wise men with your small store of facts, especiallj; when they hajipen to be false. There is uoth¬ iug so charming as a theory, mj- dear. You have lo lake a fact .is it atanda. II is obslinatelj- Imjiregnable. Y'ou can't bring j-our engines of war to bear upon it, but must surrender at ouce. But a theory is au 'airj- nothing' that j-ou can twist and turu aud squeeze to suit the occasion. You can swell it out or you can shri nk it up. Yon cau nnike il large enough to cover a mountain,- or small enough to slip into a i>int bottle, just as you liap|ieii lo need. Now- my slory is going lo be all tbeoi-j-, wilh a fact lucked In now- and then, by waj- of Illustration.
Elma l;niglie<l in a pleased, amused waj', as she always did when her auut talked to her iu long w-ords.
Auut Julia begau again.
"Millions of years ago, the world W.1S all islands, thickly scattered through the ocean. It was one great archipelago. The islands w-ere low and damp. The nir w-as warm and moist. The summer sea kissed tbe low--lying islands. The sumnier sun shone through lhu' mialj- air, and unborn jilants, away down in the wet, dank soil, laugheil with joy and leajied inlo life. From jiole lo jiole the grateful earlh smiled greenly to the loviug siiti- sliiiie and w-arm mists. Ferns shot iiji—"
"Oyes. I've seen ferns. They un- cnri when lliey ojieii," said Elma, glad lo eome lo anylhiiig .sliehadoverheard before.
" Yes, w-e call them ferns w-hen we find them in a hothouse, and 'brakes' when wu come across lliem in the woods. All the islands wero covered Willi I'ern.s-not short herbs, like llio.se you have seen, but tall trees, fifly or sixty feet high. 'Tliey slood so thick that they fornied dense forests. Every foot of ground was coveied with some greeii thing.'
" A liltle, aliniji.sy break m.ike a tree!" said Elma, doublinglj-. "Do you believe it, aunty ?"
" Yes Elma; peojde have found fern trees turned lo slouo, away dow-n in the rocks, where thej- w-eut to aleep ages and ages ago. And, besides, some of their near kin are grow-ing in Java at this very minute—tree ferns, rivaling the palms In height and beauty. What inakes you sigh so?" asked Aunt Julia, as Elma drew a long breath.
"Nothiug, only it issoqueer! Iw-isli I could see one of those trees."
" Y'ou might murrj- a sea captain and sail round the world."
Elma laughed.
" Here is a fern leaf— a frond, it Is called," said Aunt Julia, takiug up a black stone from the table.
" Why, where did you get II?" I thought I had seen everything there ever was in your bureau drawer. I've seen brakes that looked almost exactly like that.   It looks just as If it were a
fiicluie somebody had scraped on it, ike the willow trees on the old stones in the grave yard.   Dosen't it?"
"Yes; butitisn't. Itiswhatiscall- ed a fossil. The leaf w-as buried in the mud, and as tbe mud turned to stone, the leaf left this impression ; or, per¬ haps the leaf turned to slone, loo. It sometimea did."
" Aud coal was made of sueh leaves as that," said Elma, roedilalively.
"It was raade of the great fern trees on which such leaves grew. Such fos¬ sils have been found as far north as Melville's Island. Up In the Frigid Zoue, in the tropics, aud near the Southern Pole, ferns grew luxuriantly. Ice and snow- were strangers every¬ where. Sunshine and summer w-armlh were constant visitors. Tlie climate of the whole earth was iroplcah"
"But in winler itsnowed,7)f course."
"Of coui'sc it didn't, pickaninuj-. Ho the wise men .saj'. It was warm all the year round. The trees were not w-oody, like our oaks and pines, and they did not lake a firm hold of the soil, so that a fierce wind cjisily uprooted them, or a stormj- .sea tore them from tbeirsliglit footliolil. In one w-ay aud another, most of Ihem reached the ocean. Al first they floated; butgradually the air that filled all tbeir crevices bulibled out, and water crejit ill to supply ils jdace. Then the tree grew heavj-, and could no longer float. Suit sunk down, down, down, till it reached the bed of the ocean. Bul il wius not left lo lie alone. Hundreds of thousands of trees floated out and .sank Iu the siinie spot, and tbere they lay together, with their roots clasped and their branches enlw-ined. Fiiiallj-, eartli and sand and rocks were sifted down ujion tliem, forming a thick covering above thera. And the heat from theceiilre of the earth w-arm- ed Ihem, aud tho layer of eartli aud sand pressed them, till they were chang¬ ed to coal—dear, dingy, old coal—lliat cooks our food, .iml heats our houses, and lights our streets, and smelLs onr iron, and drives our engines."
" But how does it get out of the ocean?" asked practical Elma.
" The spot where the coal bed was, aflerw-ard becanie dry land."
" So smutty and so sliiiij', and so black! To think j'ou were overa tree ! 1 nerer!" saiil Elma, giving the coal hod a shake
" Yes, dariing, ages and ages before man was made, God, in His almightj', all-seeing love, knew what he would need, and year afler year, ceniury afler century, tho whole worhl was at w-ork making coal for uh.—Little Corporal.
A young lady once married a man by tho name of Dust, against the wisli of her parenta. Afler a short lime they lived unhajijilly together, and she re¬ turned to her falher's house, but he re¬ fuaed lo receive her, saying: "Dust thou art and to duat thou shalt leturn,
A gentleman, after haviug paid his addresses lo a young lady for some time " popped the question.'' Tlie lady, iu a frightened manner, aaid, "You scare rae, sir!" The gentleraan did uot wish to frighten the lady, and consequently remained quiet for some time, wheu she exclaimed, " Scare me again."
An exchange asks, "What are all the youug men In our country doing? There are noue, anywhere, learning trades." They are all playing base ball or learning to ride velocipedes.
JlEBAL  NOTICES
ADMINISTBATOB'S KOTICE.
Estate of Catharine Firestine, late of
Manor township, dec'd. T ETTERS of administration on said estate ±j having been granted to the nnderslgned, oil persona indebted thereto are rennested to make Immediate payment, and thoao having calms or demands againat the snmo wlil pre¬ sent thein for settieraent to the undersigned residing in said township.
JnIyl4-flt-35 Administrator
ADHIXISTUATOnS' NOTICE.
Estate of Henry H. Kurlz, late of Neffs¬ vllle, Manneim twp., deceased. T KTTERSof administration on said esl.ite Jjwith tho wiil annexed having been gninl- ed to tiie undersigned, aii pensons iu(U.-bti^(l thereloare requested to make immediate pay¬ ment, ond those having elainis or dettiamls against tiic .same will presentthem forKpl.Mc- luent to tiic uudcr.signcd, residing in said townsliip.
CHARLOTTE ICUItTZ.
OEORGE L. WEIDI.ER, aug ,S.C*t Adniinixtrators.
AD31IN-IST11ATOB.S' NOTIOE,
Estate   of John  Kepperling,  late  of Manheim twj)., Lancasterco., dec'd.
LETTEn.Sor.idministrntlnn on said estnle haviug bpen granted to tiieuiidersigned.ali fiersons indebted tlieretoare requested io make iiiinediale payment, aud tiioseliaviiigelaitiis or demands against tne.same will presfiit tliem witliout delay for stittletucnt to tiift nnder¬ signeil, residing in s-tid lownsliip.
J.VCOn KUl'I'UKI-ING, MA.M'L I!. JCEl'PEKLINO, gugt-CL*      -AiiniiniKlrjitors.
Ai>.niNi.vrRA'rwR-.s notjce.
Eslaleof Sarah Gall, lateof WestLam¬ peter twp., Lancaster Co., dec'd. LETTEiaofadmlnistatlon on snld estate hav¬ ing been granted to tiie under-signed, all persons Indeliled thereloare reqnesled to mako iiiiiiicdliLlc paynient, and those havingeiaitiis or (leiuniiilsagaiust tliesame will present tiieni witliouttlelayforselllementto the undersign¬ ed, resiiling in IVqucal^iwiisliili.
lliiNUY IlillEi.DIJAUGII, augl.fit^ Atimitiislraliir.
EXEOUTORS- N<»TICE.
Estate of Johu Leih, lale of Rapiio tow-nship, deceased.
IETTEUS te.sl.iment,'iry on saifl estnle jliaviii;j;beengianledloliieiiiiderNi(;iieil,iill per.sous Indebted thereto, are reqnesled tn make iinmedialo payment,and those liuving elaiins or demands against tiie .same, wili lire- sent them witiioutdeiay forsettlement to the undersigned, residing Insald township, or Ui Jno. 11. Zeller, residing in Wprhigviile.
HE.NUV limtST, aug 7-G*t E.\eeulor.
EXEtUTOBS' NOTICE.
Estate  of Elizabeth  Stauffer, late of Manheim townshiji, deceased.
IETTERSTe-stamentaryon said estate linv- jing been granted to tiio undersigned, nli fersons indebted thereto arc requested to make mmediate iiayineilt, and tliose having claims or demauds against the same will present tiieni witliout ilulay forsettlement to tho nn. dei'sigued.
July21-i;t«
DAVID .STAUFFER, Resiiling in Hnw Hoiiaiid.
EXEVUrOR'S NOTICE.
Estate of Joseph P. Bower, late of Bart townshiji, deceased,
LETTERS testamentary on .said estate hav lug beeu grullleil to the undersigned, ail persous indebted therctoiiro requested to make Immediate settlement, and tliose liuving claimsordemandsagaitistthesame, will pre¬ sent tliem witliout delay for settlement lo the undersigned, residing in said townsliip.
JO.S. 11. FOUIJ:, juiy21.G*t Exeeutor.
E.-CECC-rORS' NOl'ICE.
Estate of Edward Carler, late of the City of Lancaster, deceaaed.
XETTEILS testamentary on the estateof said J dci^cascd having been granted to tlie uii- dei-sigiieit, all persons indebted tlierelo are reiiuesteil to make immediate payment, and those having claims ordeinaiidsiigaliist lhe samewill pre.sent ihem for settlement to the uudersigned, residing in said eity.
EClZABl'Trit fiARTEU, OEOKUB M. KLINE, Jul 10-Gt Executors.
AS.SI«NEE-S N0TI<:E.
Asaigned Estale of Charles Sharjiless aud Wife, of Sadsbury tow-nship, Lancaster countv.
CHARLES SHARPLF,SS, of Sadsburj- I wiL, having by deed of voluntary luiRlgumeul. dated .Tuly Utli. 18li!l, a.sslgneil and traiisferivii all their esUitc ami ell'ects to lhe uiKlersigneil, for tile beneilt of llie crediiors of the said Charles Rliarlile.ss, lie tiiererori) gives notice lo nil persons iiniebled lo said a-ssigiior, lo make paynn-nt to tlto uiidersigued williout ili-lay. nml those iiaving elainis lo present Ilieiii Io WILLIA.M A. MUlt'l'ON.Lancaslircily, jnl 10-IJt A-ssigin-i'.
BANKKIIIT NOTK'E.
Itl tiic nistrict Court of)
tlic United suites for J-   111 llankruitley.
tiio Eastern lllstrlclj
of I'eunsylvanla. EiLstcrn Districtorronnsyivatiia,.ss:
Al L,\xi:astki:, Augu.st!!, ISia. r|10 WHOM IT illAY CONUKHN.—The nuiiis- jL signed iiereliy gives notice of his aiiiioiiil- nieiit as Assignee of tiie estnte of JJ. (ill.LI-;- si'lE tt SUN, of tile lownslilli of iOist i.,aiii|it.- ter. In the county of Laiieiister and .Stale of I'cnn.syK'aiiia, witliin said District, who have iiecuiuljnilgeil ilankrnpts upon tlie lu'titioti of creditors by the llLstrict court ofsald district, D.U. lisliLK.M AN, Assignee,
angll-:!tl ::i>Nortii Dukest., I^'iticaslcr.
BANKRIil-T NO'l'K'i:,
In thc District Courtof tlie 1
iriiited.stalesftirthe Isast'n -In Rankniptcy.
District of I'ennsylvania.   ) Eastern Disfii'lct of Peniisylvuiiin, .ss:
At 1<a.n(;asti.:i:, August ill h, i.sCil. rno wiroMit mav concicun.—tucuudir-
X signed liereby gives noticeof iiisapiiultlt- iilent as iLssignee of tlie esUile of SA.Miri<;L .M. liRlTA, of Leaeoek tW|i., in tliecnutily of Lan¬ ciuster and .Slate of I'etiii.syivania, williin said ilistrict. wiio has been ailjiidiicd a Hankruiit upon tiie iielitioti of crediiors hy the liislrict Cuurt ofsaid district.
D.O. ESIlLEJI.VX, Assignee, angll-:!t aUNorth Dukest., Lancaster.
AIIDITOB-.S NOTK'E.
Eslales of Daniel .Toll, lateof West Noltii'igliniii Tou-iislilp, in tlie Couniv of Cecil, and Slale iir.Maiylaiid,iillilor Jacoli.Inll, bite of Lillle ilriltiiiitnow KulLoii) lownsliip. iu tlicCoun¬ ty of Lancaster, and Slate of rcnn.sylvaiiia, dcccjLscd:
WIlEltE.AS. in pursnanceof all order of llic Orplians' Court of Cliester county, au- tliorizing. uniler tiie provisions of Ilic Act nt Kith Aiu-il, I.s.-^:, lhu sale of a certain Irai-l ol lanii, situale In the townsliiiiof West Not lliig- liaiii, ill tile counly of Chesler, and slale of renusylvania, containing forty acres, more or less, devised by Dan lel Job, above mcniioncd to ills son, Andrew Job, in ftitt. and if iicsboiiiii die witiiont lawful Iieirs, tiu-ii Io ihc three youngest sons of liie testator, or liie survivor of tlieiu; the Irustee, lo wll, Josi'|ili Tiiomas, wiio was appointed Iiy the Court for .said pur¬ pose, did sell said Keal Eslali! at I'ublic .Sale, and filed his nccount in .said Court, sliowing a balance of nioney in his hands for distribulion amongst those entitled thereto: Notice is here¬ by giveu tiiat the undersigneiil. apiioiutcd by saldCourt, Auditor, to make liistriliutioii of said balance, will sit for said purnose, at bis olllce In West Chester, on FRIDAY, the tliird day of SEPTE.MllEK next, at lu o'clock, a. iii.. when aiidiwliere all persons Interested in said fund may attoud. W.M. E. BARUEU.
augl4-:tt Anditor.
lUGHARUSON'S NEW METHOD
FOR TME PIANAFOBTE IS
UNEXCELLED!     UNEliUALLED!     And the Standard llook of Instruction  cm- ployed hy
THE BE.ST TEACHERS,
TItE UF,ST SCHOOLS,
THB BEST CONSBItVATOUII'S.
AND ALL INDIVIDUALS
who desire to obtain .a tliorougli and practical knowledge of Wane playing.
Tliirty tlinus.aiid Copies are sold yearly, and it is no exaggeration to say, that
<tllARTER 4>I.' A MILLION .SCIIOLAItN
Have Become Accoiiipll.slicd Pianists
by using this book. It Is adaplcd alike lo the .voungest and to the oldest; to tiie ticgiiiner forlli'st les-soiLS, and tothe amateur, I'or gen¬ eral lil'actice. Sent postpaid. I'rice, S;l7.'i, OLIVER DITSON it CO., I'libiislicrs,
•277 Wasliingloii St., Uoston. CHARLES IL DIT.SON A CO..   711 Broadway, Ncw Vork.
K II V. M N I']' '/.
WIHTK KiEAn, xiist:,
AND i'OI.OK WORKS.
WF. niannfaclnrea ciieniically luire CAlt- ilONATBOF LEAll.
Also, iiiaiiuraciurcr.s, Iiiiportcrs and liealei-s inaligrailcsanilqimiillesofldO.Mland /.INC fAINl'S, COLOU.S, Ac.
SOLE MANUFACTITllEitS ofthe cclebraleil rernianciitSVIR.VN (iKKKN, with niori-biil- liaticy, beaut] fill shadoof color, body and dur¬ ability tliuu any other Urecli In the market.
Also, solo manufaetiircrsorMcIC.itCo.'s cel- ebi-.iled JAPAN llltVKIl, very thlu, liglil in color, free of scdimcnl, and very strong.
Dealers nlso In OILS.TIIRI'ENTINE, VAU- NlallES, WINUOW ULAS.S, lilttrsilES,iVe.
Trices low.aiidall goods warranted as repre¬ sented.
9[oKni!;1it <K Co.,
Manufacturers, Importers and Wholesiile
Dealers,
TWENTY-SECOND AND UACE .Sts..
I'lllLAllELI'IllA. «S. Send for PRICE LIST. [aiig7-:iin
JACOH ItKlNllOLD,     «0 TO      B. I.. IIKI.MIOl.l),
nEIJVHOJ.I>".S
AND bi;y your Stoves I   Ntovcsir   StovcMlI!
DAllLOIt. COOIC. AND DINING UOOII 1, STOVES, the bestout and the iowest prices.
JIOUSE FURNISIIINO GOODS
In an endless variety, such ils Copper and Iron ICettles,Knivesaiid Forlts, Spoons, Iron Lailli!s, LiKikiug01lui.ses,Tubs, linckcls,Brush¬ es, Pans, Stair Rods, (Queensware aud nuiucr¬ ous other articles.
OIL CLOTIIS, OIL CLOTHS,
the liesl and most beautiful patterns In Lan¬ caster.
Wo give our conntry .and city friends a cor¬ dial luvlUllion to give ns a caii, and examine our st«ck. Wo wiil sell ciieap. We have also on band ageneral n.ssortiuent of IIARD\V.\KE, Nails, Olass, Locks. Uliiges. White Lead, Oils, ruints, Orocories, Ac. Don't forget the place. REINIIOLD & SON.
Corner of Nortii Queen uud Walnut streets.
apl2il-tf'il  r Lanciuter.
FINANOIAL.
A Pacific Kailway
GOLD   LOAN,
$6,500,000.
w
E bcK Ipftvo to nnnnunce llinl wc Iinvo ftcceptnd the nfjency of ilie
Kansas Paoifio Railway Co,,
Fur the snlc ofils
NEW SEVEN PER CENT.
Thirty-Year Gold Loan, free frora Tax. Tills loan ammints to 8n,50»,000
First Morlfjarjn Land-Orftitl ami S!nh- iny Fund Jlomlt,
secured upnn the cxlrnslon of tlic rullwny frnni near Hhcrldnii, in K:iiisiih, In I>unvcT Colfir.ido,.1 dislancriif 'sr: niili's, of wlildi rl miles aro completeil, and itift ii-st Jh under c^jHStructlon, It isiilsoa Mnrt^xm: iiimii K()1I- hiK MtoL'lc and Krnn(;liis« nf lld.H tlrHl-<;l)iN.s railway, besIdcM imw rnnulng Lliri»u(;li ttii; .Slato of KunsiU!, aud
In Successful Oimratinn for ^^7 MilcM
west nrtlif*Missouri rivf-r.nnilrnrniUf; already i-niniiili WMiicfi-ullof U-s I'-YiH-iisfs aiMl t-xl'il- lu<{ oLil!;{Htinns, hosldos
More (haji ihc Jnlcrail itjion ih/n Nuu Lttfin
In addlMnn to llils, the TtoiidH arc aiso so- cured bya (IrsL uiorlgaKeol'thi;
GOVEIINMRNT I.AXP ORANT OK TlIUKi: .MIJ.LIUX A(JUIiS,
PXlondiufjIu altnrunlcscfMousou idlliersnh' of lilt! track, from tlii!:iii'IIh iiillt* j)f).-(ii hi Kau¬ sas I" IVnv*!r. Till! jirnccHls of Ihi'saliMfl tlu'su Iand« are lo hi; invt-stcil by IIii; 'J'rusli-cs in I III! 7 per ceut. liniiils tlieuisi^lves, U|> In I2)i, orliiU, S. Jlnnds, as
A.SINKING FUND KOltTITK ItKDKMl'l'IUN or TUli lIONliS.
Tlio lauds cuibraco s^tnieof tlm driest por- t ions or liie magnl tieen tTerrilory nrCnlnrudo, iiiuUidii)|;ii eoal tlelil and pinery. TlHM'oni- puny aiMo holds :is au assul auoLlitjr iraelnl'
THKEE MirXIOXS OP A<'RES IX TIIE STATE OF KANSAS,
and allhough uot plcd^etl its asecurily for lliis loan,their pn>:scsHi(in adds largely lo the (.*niii- pauy's weutth uud credit.    We estiuiute Llie
VAMTE OF TITK COMrANV'.S rKOI'KUTV, COVKREI> RY THIS .MUKTWAOK. AT
$2.t.(Mio,ooo Xirr. win li-: ti i i-;
LOAN IS MKUKLY «i;,r)<H\mHl. Thfj Uuuds have
THIUTT YEAnS TO UIN.
from Jlay I, ItJKf, nnd will pay
Scrcn per ccnl. Interest in €iol<l
senii-aiinually, on May IsL aud Xoveuiher Ist, aud uro
Free from Qovernment Taxalhm,
theCompany paying the lax.
TiiePUTXCIPALof Iho Loan isumdii TAY- AliLE IN OOLD in the City nt Xew S'l.i k, hnt each Coupou will he
rAVABLK IX   FRANKFORT, LONUON OR NKW YORIC,
nt opt lon of lho holder, without notice, at tlie fulluwing rulers:
On SI.WW Doud In X. York,S:KfKoId)cnch IiK yr "        '*      London,      C'lsK'd
"     Fraukiorl, .S7 lir. ::i) krl/. "    "
Thc AgPulR ofthe Loan, before nrcf^pt illl-1 lie trust, hau lhe eondition of tlie road, aud lbe couutry Ihrough whieh iL runs, earefully e.\- auiiued.   Theyare happy togive tbe Loan an
ciupbalicendorseuieulasa
FIRST-CLASS   IXVESTJrK.VT,
In every respect perfectly sure, and in some csscnilalseveu
RvKoi* than GovernEBivni Securities.
TbcRniids V ill Ijesold fot 111) pnsiul  iL
««,  ANJ)   AC(MUIKI)   liVTKUICST, ViXxWx in Ciirnnw-y,
lho Agents reserving the right to udvau«;(t tin? rule.
ThealteiiMoii nf investors Is Inviied tolhese well-ser 11 red Ilntids, xi-lneb AVe recoiiiiiienrl ts otll* nf th<,Miiost]ii-iiiiialde iiiveslnii^Mls in Ibo niurket.
Cold nnd Covernnieiil. Secirrlties takirii iu paynient all lieir mai kel valne, wilhoiit com- nitsHlons.
rainplilels, will!  maps giving bill iun.rma-
Liuu,sent.nil appllealiiui,
DABNKV, MOIIOAN & CO.,
Nc. rrx Kxeiiauge I'laee, New York.
M. K. jRj4ur Sz. ro.,
No. la riueSlreet, XeW Y»)rlt. nngl  •''"_
Mcoliaiiies' JSaiilf,
N'o. 3(!   Norlh   Queon   Slretrl,
(IN'tiMlllKR I'.lin.DIXO.)
•PHAI-S IN-
UNITIvi) STATKS I'.ONHS.   STOCICS, COMt,
SILVKIt ANIV (rOlM'ONS,
J)r:irtsCiivoiion :jH IIk; rriiiciiialCilu's.
O.JLLKirriO.N'S JIAPK l'i:O.MlTLY a    ^
INTKRKST I'.\II) O.V JiKt'OSlTS.
.lOIIN ir. STKIIMAN, .lOSKI'll CliAIlKSON, SA.MIJKLSLOICO.M, Runkors as stehman, Clarksuu A Co. mar 21 i;tii-Ii»
itANHiNc iior.si: or JCccil, i?S:eC;;E':2nii «fe <:o.
Dealers Iuall klndsnf liovernmouL Uonds.
Buy nnd sell Railroad Ritudsaud Slock ot every description; nlso,Oi>lil, Siiveraiiil Uiiil- wl Slates C<Hipon.'«.
Ui'iou i'aeltli; Railroad Honds bought aud Hold.   Bonds on haml ready to deliver.
1'us.sage Cerlillcutes to and from lbe Old Couniry, for sale; aiso, Dnifl-s tm Dublin, IjOuaon,ParIs,orany olberCity in Kuropi*,
PAY INTKHF-ST OX DKPOSITS.
1 mo.-l percent mar21
C mos. 5 percent.
V2 "    51=:      ••
(iin-ii;
SEVEN PER CKXT. OOLD IIONDS   of the LAKK SUPKRIOR A.MISSISSIPPI RAIL¬ ROAD COMPANY.
First.MoiigngeSinking Kund Bonds, Freeof United Slates Tuxes.
Secured by I,(;:fJ.flOO Al.'RKS OF CIIOICK LANDS, nud bythe Itallroad, Us roll! ni;sl<M-Ii, and franchises; und yielilltig In Ciirreiiey uenrly Il> percent-, peruniutut.
Holders of Ti-ai Bonds eanexehatigelliem for these desirable securities, ataiindit of nearly ao per <rent.
Allinlled amount for sale upon fuvorabb; terms, uud full particulars furnisiied hy
DvVVIIK;. SWARTZ. No. 7;! Nortli Dnke stn-et, npr2S-im'*2-l lijuieusler.
IVllIianisporl Cily ISoiids  .Sale.
WK are autliorized tn oiler fnr sale a limi¬ led numberof the Bonds of tbe Cityof Williumsport nt Ki per cent., including ac¬ crued Inierest.
These b«mds have been Issued hy the Citv nl Wllllamspta-L, in denom inal ious of SI.i.tH|eaeb. bearing semi-aiinual eonpons at tlie rale "'r six perirent. per annnm,iiayalde hi Ntnv York . 11 Mie IstofMareh aud IstofSepteinl.er.
'J'hese Iionds are exempt. Irom :iU tnuiiii-ii>:il (axattoii, antl with Mie interest a(;eriied toriiis date, will enst but Kt, Iieside the pnitR of 17'-; percent. Ibal will enure lothe ludderaMlHir nialurily, j:.VIlt A- SlIKNIC,
fetr.ni IMI Cuiik.TS.
South WattT SL,  LaiicasU-r Cily, Pa.
Manufacturer ofall kinds «»f WOOl.KN IIALF-WOOLKN AND COITON
IILA NKl-yrS tC- ItALMOUA L .'^KIJiT-S,
WHITE. IIONEIM'O.MB ANO
MAIt.SElI^l.ES «*4>IL\TEUl*A.\ll*;,
L-irge sizo, ofevery description.
IIOME-MADK AND   INORAIN   OARPI-Tl'S
Kept on hnnd nml mnde to order.
AYOOLKN, LTXKN A COTTON YAUNS
Ofevery description, flue or coarse, of the best quulily, cniistunlly kept ou hnnd.
SCOURING aud COLORINO of all kiud.s, such as Silk, Colton nud Woiden Uomls, for Men's, I..ndles*nud Cblblreirs Cbtlhlng, doue atshort notiee.   Ooods dyed ludigo Illne.
Stnnllor largCfiuniititleKof Wool tuken in exchange for gntids nr purcluLse'd for cilsIi.
ISTU Cash paid for good Carpet ILigs and I'a¬ per Rags, jnnyrj-i;m-i:i;
ROOFIXt; Nf^lXE^
PRICES UKDUCKD TO SU IT TI IK TI .M l>i.
riiHE undersigned has conKlanlly on huud iafull supply of Luncaster und Y«iikeouiilv ROOFINO SLATI-: of the I!KST QUAI.ITIKS which he Is selling at reduced prices, and wliich win bo pnt ou by the sfinnre, or stdd l>> the tou,ou the most reasouable ternis. Also, couslautly on hnud.itn e.-cti-u light IVucb Bot- t«»mSlate,Inteuded for Slating ou wliingled
Jfaving iu my employ tlio bestsiaterR In the market—all work will bo wiu-raitledlo bu exe¬ cutetl in tbe best manner. As theso cinnlities ofSlate are tiie be.\t in thevinrket, BullderH nud (ilherK wiilflnd it lo tlielr interest to cnll nnd examine at; my Agricultmal t&Seed Ware- nK>ms,No.*^,K:uitKlngKt., two doorH weNt of IhoCourt HouKO. WKO. D.HPRKCJIEK.
'0.'%-Wo huvo ulso the AZBMSTOS UOOKINO, lultTiided ftirllatrtnifs, tir where slute tirsbiu- gleM eunnot be useil. It is fur superior lt» I Mas- liuorOruvel Uuollug. fuul-'ot>-ti