Nebraska advertiser. (Brownville, Nemaha County, N.T. [Neb.]) 1856-1882, February 04, 1875, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    0
E
o
e
:
3 !J
i-
fc.-.. ,-
na
-HE ADVERTISER
THE ADVERTISER.
j .... , H-l-l J-" ' ''' - .
Pabllshed every Thursday by
?AIBBBOTHER & HACKER,
Proprietors.
. . ir.nu..nnta Itlnrk. UDhtBlrii
jjgee """''"'
BROWN'VILLE, JSiiBKASivA.
Terms, in Advance:
)Uecpy.eycar
S2 00
. 100
50
no copy, si ""'""
aecopy.inreemoniua.
,7TdIXG3IATTEIIOX every page
SOCIAL DIRECTORY.
LODGES.
. . . i . -v. is. K. P. Meets every
;eClior ". jfftsonlc Hall. Visiting
Wean"-i. ..,-,,, j c McNauoiiton.
JFV P e.Johnson, K. It- S.
"-"- ... t ..!.... Vn. S. I. O. O. F.-Regnlar
rolV. TnMday evenlnBol each .veek.ln their
J . .. rrpr Low-man's store visiting oroiuera
ta-w.";,':r Invited,
i :...l. A fi f3TE3. JN.U. JA1U3
A.G.
rfr.'r.'l.sppr.
QjCIin . -
rownvii."- " Friday evening In Odd
.illp mv
., Tl.'iuinn ."o. 12F, r'wt" -.-
- -m .B .n . . ''.,.,
P""1"2.,- tiaii over Xlckell's drug store. Main
- 3tWSstrancere or our order visiting the city
6"c"I-atnemt ith US. B. M. BaILKY, W.
e. Meets every
g.IX"kwood'K'S
iftSKS tfey eVen
se
S.J
- --... ,..-v. .f.R.A.M.-Stated
Irl 'ic , Moh lav night Jin each month,
I gs first Monday
nrn? .lIVMonJw ta e5i month
3. ,.? S.B.3I.J
sa'-i--"""" T . - m -SintPrt
r.ti. . -
d ,. ,, ".-Order ot the Eastern siar.
idnh Chapter -so-.-. Mnnd,v in each month.
CHURCHES.
.. .... Mi . Services each Sabbath
KIIethqcIHtK.iiij-. m. sun lay School at
u 'I prayer Meeting Thursday evening.
j ILHi .. Servlces each Sabbath
PrehJ ter.a n""1 ; nfrraycr Meeting Wed-
oti -a-r- S?'" thhath School at 2 o'clock
..-.. rrcnlugs.
Sabbath School it:
i.i. . j . v. ii . i
j T Baik". 1'astor.
J), o.
CITY OFFICERS.
r-... .. -!?!: Mnndav In each
Citr f'X?. A. Tisdel. Allermen-JIrst
l ' r V rtJ. n. Docker. Treausrer, J i.lake.
F .3J-:ga J. fa-stun.
COUNTY OFFICIOS.
,-J. HiCglns. Aj.mK-
I1MIU
McCo-
r XI rrar,-, ..-.-. "----- - w pjer80n.
Trcasjrer,
f, v-rt. v jaiuj oui-;.-
.3RAEGE DIRECTORY
OHlrert of the ?ntIonni itbubi..
... .j Mo.tor Wankan. Iowa. O,
ii.
x .ey.Sccn.ti ry. Washington. IX C
' niccr of the State Oransc.
W-j B. Porter, Master;
Wm ilClllg.secreiajj.
L'ncoin. .
Ncmahn County Central AHsociation.
Phurch IIowe.Pre?ldent Jiherman ,s -Q. n.
-e-Prf'SldolJl liownru; .- --"' T,,-iJnvlllP
PP-J- S W. Kennedy, TrH-i-nrer. UrowmlUe,
VBt"rTF:-WM,?r.dge'PerU: J. Mariatte
llrciii-ile: S.Kobcrtson. Howard.
GRANGES.
OBANOr.
-. ty -
MASTKR. 5EtRBIAni.
Cliurcli Howe..,Wm. P. Frlss
O. P. Avery It. H. Bailey
J. Gilbert.. ..
it. V. Black 'O. Watliau
.!.-. ir.i.in.irnrrt An I.eerer.w
Wllr:-
K 1
Lnrt rO.ik-.
irtt.rj'. t
V J "Harnies Mrs.L. Schnyder
Kit Wod I Koht. Sklilou
(UrA-J lTa.riir-
I -i-a- i .
X. P Meaner
II. Glasgow
t i.nii'
C Meadr..
JW.V. Smith.
H : j'l'n K.
III :3 Hautl.
i"ir Poery W. II. Harris.
weoiicr.
-rtv u
H.Childs F. Patrick.
lLa'i'i '"
J Higginft
V. M stokes,
S. Hotiert.on
T.CKImsey.
INr--.at.ft -
V a"iCs '.trt
Win.
Watkin".. Thos. Kurress
-it ft a-.e.v
A. Waltz
T. J. Majors
C. Campbell
Wm Jcncs
I,eUoy?:ason..
John sitral n..
o. It. He-.ett
it. f. senior
J. M. Petti t
Koht Coleman-
J. Mariatte
L.l..Ma;on
C. Harm's
J. B. Piper.
r ift!
F-v.fitKdee
n-aJiitVa'ley
1 . . 1 11.11
Yt I "n
1Y ,---
"I .1 r 1
Perrv Iinckeis, ..-
Wm.-Bagley. 'w. It J dge
A. J.Skeen if-o. Oroxv.
Wm. F. Paris ll.O.MIn ck.
S Pochrnn J. Maxwell
Chas. Blodgett O.J Matthews.
J. A. G iel CM.O -el
ill l-c'-tar
til- m-in
IWa-uTglon
EZ!:t
time sfrEmxs J
RAILROAD TI3IE TABLES.
. - r .lllantltt
fifurllnsou & Mmsonn uiTcr.v.....
in -itiirnsHB.
MAIN LINE.
lil.iaill.iwic '-"" !,..,. m locrp
u I Piattsmoutn - p.ni.ni-i-4. c
Lincoln 11:1B a.m. leave
. L-iwrnnv June 5:45 o.m leavd
i-.li". nm niritr. 1 -Kearney June I 5:45 a.m
..0.. . I Lilian n ii.i .ii. -.. -
. .mt... .:". .:..
OMAHA BUANCH
1 H p. m. leave 1 Plattsniouth 1
2;o n.m. arrive Omaha I
12:15 a.m. arrive
10:50 a.m. leave
BKATIUCE HltANCH.
; p ul. leive '
ip.ia.arnel
.Crete
7:45 a.m. arrive
5:45 a.m. leave
lleatrice
Chlcftco & XortU AVeatcni Rnllwaj".
Vralr.sctC nnBlulTs arrive anuaepa" """
....-..-M Tll.D 1 PT
j Ot V1 W EST AKIIIVK 1 uui?iu wii ";"-
VKl
111. I
. ti.. . ..-o 1.1'S.kii ill I I1AV KTUrtSttMM o.-f ..
1 X?. t 1 xrrc.s" ftlSalm. I Night K-cpress. 4.0.1 p.m.
Kx. Freight 10:V)a.m.
W. U. STKNNETT. Gen. Pas. Agt.
Kansas City, St. Joe. &, C. K. Railroad.
Trains leave Phelps Station as follows :
VSot-.s Njrth
V30 a. m. I Going South, 9A"i a. m.
4 05 p. m. I Going South, G:45 p. m.
A. C DA WIS, Gen. Pass. Agent.
3a.z; North
Midland Pacific Railway.
Dam "i-Cinml Nebraska City 12:00pm 450pm
Inn 8 rib in 1 -r . , f I MRU am lui 1 in
! niSS I Jpm I -Ltncoln wam ,ftu,a m
S 4C pm l-tij i m J Seward I 9-OOam tK.SU a in
J. N. CONVERSE. Sjupl-
BUSINESS CARDS.
ATTORNEYS.
II. O. 3PftrUer
. ITTIIIXFT AT LAW. LAND AKU TAi
A l'-i z ent. Howard, Neb. Will give dilll
! r--a'U..r.. n toauy legal buiincbsentru:td to his
f lir 16mC
E. E. Eljrlglit,
TT1IIVI Y AT LAW. Notary puhlic and Heal
' I --e t;p'it. OUlce lu Court House Build
' Cr.Aaihe Neb.
T. L. Schick,
TT ir.Nl Y AT LAW. MAY BE CONSULT
V ti 3 t'ie Ceriiun language. Olfice next
- rt( j-i-y Clerk's Offlce, Court House Build
's: Br,-. iv.lle.Nebraska IS-Cy
J. S. St nil.
ITTir.NFY VND COUNSKLOU AT LAW.
-V O , No. 70 MaInstrDet.(upitaIrs,)Urown-
v 'e.XtS lby
J. II.
Uroady,
UTnNEYAXIl mnXSELOlt AT LAW.
o:-i
e jrer Stato Bank, urowuvun ,.cu.
E. AV. Tlioinas,
TDItVF Y AT LAW. Olhce. front room over
A fnjn& Cross's Hardware Store. Brown-
v.. . Nc'j.
IV. T. Rogers,
TTOr.'NFY AND COUNSELOR
AT LAW.
Wi 1 give dlliccnt attention to any lesal
2s re-ss entrusted to his care. Office in Court House
1- i aj.Brownvllle.Ncb.
PHYSICIANS.
S. HOLLADAY, M.D.. Physician. Surgeon
V- .. nstrinian. Oraduated in 1S51. Loca-
Tel in urownville 1855. Office, Lett & Crelgb's
Dr 5 stare McPherson IBlock. Special attention
r 1 to Obstetrics and diseases or Women and
v.Y:irc-i. L0!11
HL. MATHEWS. Physrclan and Surgeon. Ofllce
. In City Drug Store, No. 32 Main street, Brown
'Ms,Neb. Notaries collection agents
Ij. A. Bergmann,
VOTARY PUBLIC AND CONVEYANCEU.-
a-s O'Hee. No. 41 Main street, Brownvme.ep.
1.AND AGENTS.
WILLIAM H. noOVEU, Real Estate and Tax
iirn- irani nnf in District Court Room.
w"lg.ve prompt attention to the sale of Real Es
"Ue a:.d Payment of Taxes throoghouttbe N cmaba
wai D.slrfcl-
BLACKSMITHS.
,T. V. Gibson,
lH.VKSM.rnr. AND nORSE SItOER. First
s'r-- "bet iveen Main and Atlantic. Browcville,
N W irk dime to order and satisfaction guaran-
r;i.
HOTELS.
V MEMO AN HOUSE, L. D.Roblson. Proprietor,
t Fx i t;treet, between Main and College. Good
. atm Livery Stable In connection with this
T.ETTER HEADS,
fcsa
fflgi BILL HEAD
NeatlyprlntedRt this offlce.
It- t;rme.v.o-j-d-a7 r each moutn.
- ....nn1f.1l
i oi"'w ";---.- . ,.i- rvinntr (JierK..
.. . All! Tflltalti fill 111
V-ey.Joinit. o - r-TTnr. her
W1 ia'1Ac"- Vir niimore surveyor. J
r f'.'.l i...l.no Tnrtt-P. E. JM.
ESTABLISHED 1856.
Oldest Paper in tho State
.
THE OLD LETTER.
The following poetnfrom tho Sedalla
Times, -written by a young lady of that city,
tellBthesad story of many a tender, true,
loving heart that has grotto, cold to all the
world, but which has, hidden from human
Bight, a great deal of the leavcri of a holler
human nature, that only needs to be touch
ed by the soft hand ol love and pity, to bring
forth an hundred fold of love and sympathy,
and kindness for all that Is worth loving.
The Ink is pale, the letters dim,
I scarce can trace their faded lines;
But yet how plain the tracings bring
Sweet pictures of the "olden times'"
Once more I'm crowned with girlhood's
years;
My bark's afloat on youth's bright stream,
I care not for the treacherous reefs.
The ruling charm Is "love's young dream."
No warning volcelcan brealr the spell
Which holds me in Its glittering thrall,
Nor disenchanting hand remove
The rosy cloud enshrouding all.
For he, to whoiri my young heart turns,
Although so many mlleS apart.
The precious message pens to me,
That he has given "heart for heart."
And adds, with sweetly, tender thought,
A postscript, saying. "Love to you,
Through coming time, what'er befalls,
Nay, even death will And mo true."
O, world-worn heart, how faiq would I
Win back the faith which bound me then.
Ere I had learned such words meant naught
But perjured vows from lips of men.
Alas ! the knowledge came too soon.
And I awoke from out the dream.
To And my bark a floating wreck.
Pierced by the rocks beneath the stream.
While all the precious "pearls of hope,"
With which I'd freighted every part,
Were cast aside aye, crushed and torn,
Like fibres from a broken heart.
To-day, they 'call me cold and proud,
Nor know that 'neath this marble calm,
A heart lies dead which once knew love,
And what he made me, that I am.
OLD FLAMES.
A CA31P-3IEETING ROMANCE.
"It's too aggravating, so it is ! Dear
rue! I wish I never forgot any
thing." "No, no! for mercy's sake, don't
wish you never forgot anything; for
then you'd nlwaj'3 have to remember
all the disagreeable things that ever
happened to you in your life. Be
lieve me. it's vastly better ns it Is. If
we never forgot anything at all, then
we'd haveto carry down to our graves
the vividjirecoliection.of all the grief.
LojrowTor 'pafii we mriffergggft
alrthetatefal things folks have said r
to usf&Bd about us, and, above all,
5
of
everjT time in our lives when we've
made f6oI of ourselves. You will
find that it's much to be thankful for
if you can forget the occasions on
which you've made a fool of yourself
when you come to be an old maid like
j'our Aunt Laetitia."
Alice Kildare laughed.
"Not much like being an old maid,
is it, seventeen, and already engaged
six months ?M
'Well, I was engaged at sixteen,
and have been engaged three times in
my life, and yet here I am an old
maid in eye-glasses, rind intend to die
the same, please God. Think, now,
what a budget of heart-breaking rec
ollections I'd be obliged to carry about
with me the rest of my life if I had to
remember it all. Don't wish you nev
er forgot anything, Alice. On the
contrary, thank Heaven we do forget
things."
Again Alice Kildaro laughed.
''Sue and I are going to have our
fortunes told, Aunt Laetie. Go with
us, venerable mother, aud seo that it's
done right."
"I can tell yours without looking
into a globe of mesmerized water.
You'll be an old maid ; mark the pre
diction. You have the elements of
an old maid in your soul one sort of
old maid, that Is."
"What are the 'elements of an old
maid,' Aunt Laet ?"
"Oh ! of your sort of old maid a
high spirit, a bright mind, a sharp
tongue, aud an uncontrollable love of
fiirtmg. You'll be the sort of an old
maid that takes to woman's rights
and things not the sort that takes to
cats xnd religion. Once more mark
the prophecy, Alice Esmerelda Kil
dare?" For the third time Alfce laughed
her bright, spunky, ringing laugh,
and then clapped on her gypsy hat
and went with her friend Sue to see
Mine. Minchauski, the great clairvoy-ante-sibyl,
who could miraculously
see the shadow of coming events in a
globo of mesmerized water at so
much a head.
Alice was betrothed to aslim, hand
some, long-haired college student.
who wrote poetry and had an Eollan
harp in one window and a rose-geranium
in -the other, and meant to go
into the literary line as' soon as he
was done college. He was very much
in love, and Alice was oh ! dreadful
ly in love, but that didn't at all pre
vent this truthful young lady from
flirting with a" dozen other young
men all at once, and telling no end of
white lies about her engagement. She
was exceedingly attractive, but not so
pretty as she was bright, piquant and
spirited. At this very time when she
lay awake nights thinking of her be
trothed, and never .went to bed with
out tenderly kissing his photograph,
at this very time she was flirting. des
perately with Tom Creighton, her
lover's class-mate, a rich man's son,
who was heme on a three months'
leave of absence which had been reo
om mended by the college faculty.
Worst of all. she bad allowed Tom
Creighton, in the presence of a third
person, to toll her a slanderous story
about her lover, one whioh she knew
must be false ; and there she eat and
listened to it without the faintest at
tempt to fight for her lover's good
name, just for fear Tom Creightou
would think she was engaged if she
said anything. I don't defend her,
mind you ; I think such conduct was
simply scandalous, and such a young
lady don't deserve ever to have any
body fall in love with her, no, not if
she lived to be a thousand years old.
"Well, what doeB the sibyl say ?"
asked Laetie.
"She's a humbug," said Alice, sav
agely. "I'm sorry I went. It's real
silly and wrong to encourage such
wicked imposture, besides." -
This time Sue laughed.
"The sibyl didn't say Alice was to
be married, and so she thinks the sib
yl Is a humbug," eald Sue. "We
went into a darkened room, and in
one oorner there sat a little, ghostly,
waxy -looking old woman, with great
hollow, black eyes. ' She ha.d a glass
globe of water before her on a little
stand. The water had been magnet
ized, she said, and she, being a clair
voyant, was able, by her second
sight, to see in the water beautiful pic
tures and visions of events to come.
Then she took Alice's hand and press
ed it against her forehead, and began
to wink And roll up her great, hollow
eyea in an uwful manner. It was real
scarey, Aunt Laetie. By and by she
bobbed her head about'and mumbled
something, and, still, with her eyes
rollel back and half-shut, she began
looking into the globe of magnetized
water. Then presently she opened
her ghostly-looking lips, and in a sort
of sing-song tone said to Alice : 'My
ohild, I see pictures of your future
spread out here and there before nay
Inward eyes, like a moving panorama.
I see lovers, you will have plenty of
lovers, but I see ho picture of a wed
ding. Strange! There is no wedding-ring
in the circle at the bottom
of the globe. How is this, my child?
I see one dim pic"ture, a long way off
In the future, it must be, because it is
so dim, and In it you stand up sur
rounded by people ah ! let me see,
they are children around you, and
you are greatly changed, taller, paler,
thinner, but there is no wedding, no
wedding. The water is not clear to
day, you ill us t come again. Mercy !
what is this? Here is a great crowd ;
they are making a noise, aud, looking
at two men young -la'dyv thetwo
"wewmreiiigkliHgaadjAlHwivoBS l&the
waterturns ret? ; it Is blood,, blood I
m- -1"" MMi 6
But I Bee no wedding.
I see blood,
but no wedding.'
"She looked so Weird and dreadful,
Aunt Laet, that I was afraid to have
her tell my fortune after that. She
told us to come again when the water
was clearer . and then we came away,
and Alice has been cross ever Blnce.
But I'm sure I wouldn't go back again
for anything."
Whereupon and finally Aunt Laet
had her laugh.
"What did I tell you, Alice? Did
n't I say you were to oe an old maid?
It was foreordained by the fates. On
ly, Alice, let me request one thing of
you, yea, two things, come to think.
Don't you ever go to petting cats, or
dyeing your hair with vile-smelling
sulphurous stuff when white threads
begin to Sneak in around your tem
ples. I'll never will you my tea-pot
or eye-glasses if you do that."
Aunt Laetitia, who liked to tease
people, laughed again.
It was the season of peaohes and
melons, the roasting season when idle
people hunt cool places, and devout
people hold camp-meetings. Alice
went to a camp-meeting with her
father, mother and Aunt Laetitia. Is
there anybody here, I wonder, who
doesn't know what a camp-meeting is
like? If there is, let her go to the
next one and find out for herself.
Father and mother sat up among
the worshipers, close to the preachers'
platform ; Aunt Laet sat half-way
back in the congregation, like one
who was doubtful in her mind as yet
whether to separate herself from the
world or not, while giddy-pated Alice
didn't pretend to sit among the con
gregation at all, but hovered away
back on the extreme borders, where
the preacher's voice could scarcely be
heard at all. Their position in the
camp-meeting audience was an exact
barometer of the'devotlonal status of
these excellent people, namely : Fath
er and mother, Laetitia, Alice. In
point of faot, the young people on the
outermost borders of that devout as
sembly were flirting with' all their
might. Alice Esmerelda Kildare was
fiirtlne with Tom Creighton. Her
betrothed, the slim, long-haired stu
dent, was coming home to-morrow.
"When the cat's away the mice will
play, and the mouse will play till the
very last minute before the cat comes
back," Alice had said" to herself as
she admired her bright, brunette face
in the glass that morning.
So she sat upon one of the' rude
wooden benches under a tree, and let
Tom Creighton talk soft nonsense in
half-whispers to her. Was all this
wicked, of a Sunday, at camp-meet-inr?
Yes. certainly It was, but two-
thirds of the young people about
them were behaving in the same
wicked manner. Suddenly Tom
Crelghton's soft, lazy voice ceased, and
Alice looked up, presently, to see
why. She could hardly keep down a
cry as she saw, approaching them,
her own betrothed, the slim, hand
some student, who had been gone a
whole year. Somehow she felt dread-
jfully guilty as she oaught his bright
BROWNTILLE, NEBRASKA,
gray eyes. It was such fun to flirt,
but dear me !
The slim student passed her with a
cold bow. His mother was on bis
arm, and he led her to a seat up
among the devout people around the
preacher's platform. Alice's heart
beat a little queerly, and Tom Creigh
ton watched her keenly. It wasn't
pleasant, and Alice hated unpleasant
things. Suddenly her betrothed oame
back toward them- He had seated
his mother and left her. He touohed
his hat to Alice.
"I beg pardon, Miss Kildare ; but I
wish to ask you something, in pres
ence of this person. I may not have
the opportunity again. Imaynotsee
you again soon, Indeed."
He took a paper from his pocket
and unfolded it.
"Read that, If you pleaBe," said the
slim studenb to Miss Alice, who, by
this time was beginning to be con
scious of a powerful inclination to run
away. The paper contained an exact
copy of the slanderous statements
which Alice had allowed Tom Creigh
ton to repeat to her concerning her
betrothed.
"I only wish to knbtf,'' fiald the
slim student with simple dignity,
"whether you allowed this person to
tell you the stuff thst is on that pa
per?" Alice did not answer. She wanted
worse than ever to fud away, but to
save her life she could not have gone
past that wrathful, gray eye, which
was fixed on her like a siege gun.
"A very short answer is sufficient,
yes or no, Miss Kildare."
"I won't tell you," said Alice, pout
ing. "Do you think you can make
me do anything I won't do?"
"I beg your pardon," said thB slim
student with icy politeness. "I would
not for the world ask you to do any
thing which is disagreeable to you.
Allow me to wish you good morn
ing." But as he strode away and left
them Alice didn't like the looks of
him. Consequently she flirted hard
er than ever. During the dinner re
cess after Tdnl Creighton had gone
awoy and left Alice, suddenly there
arose a terrible roar and rumpus in
the edge of the woods. Then there
was a pistol shot and the next mo
ment were heard cries of "Prize
fight!" "Murder!" "Part 'em!"
"Give it to him,.little one !"
-WPhoee who rushed to the quarter
whence the crles'catoeSafJaslende?
, . . ... L. ...- x
Riatv'allwootiy--at)a"-l&acatn I'Ke a'
wild beast, madly heating and pound
ing a big fellow who was trying faith
fully to shield himself from the blows
which were raining down upon him.
And before they could bo separated
the sllaS student had beaten Tom
Creighton half to death.
"And good enough for him too,"
said everybody who saw the encoun
ter. "Bui who'd have thought that a
slim fellow who wrote poetry could
doit?"
It seems that iuo two rivals had met
somewhere in the grove. Angry
words had passed between them ond
at Inst Tom Creighton, who' seemed
to be in constant terror lest the other
would "pitch into him," the boys
said, suddenly drew his pistol, with
out a moment's warning, and ex
claiming, "Don'tyou come near me!"
fired fit the slim student.
The blood streamed from the young
man's arm, and he fell to the ground,
wounded and stunned. Tom' Creigh
ton turned to run away, but had not
taken three steps before the slim stu
dent who wrote poetry was upon him.
He sprang up, covered with blood,
and leaped madly forward, with a
roar like a lion.
"I'll beat your infernal head off,'
he howled. "I'll kill you!"
He was In a fair way to do It, too,
wounded though he was, when the
camp police appeared aud arrested
both the young men in the name of
the offended majesty of the law.
That evening this note was put into
the bSnds of naughty Alice Kildare,
who had caused ail this trouble :
"I return you ydeff troth. It is
nothing to me now, because I know it
is nothing to you. I know now, too,
that women are incapable of steady
truth and faithfulness. I suppose
God made them so. But I do not
know why it was ordained thataman
shall pour out all his soul, all his
soul, all his manhood and earthly
hopes at a woman's feet and for com
pensation have only the satisfaction
of knowing he is a fool. I shall not
return to college and you will not see
me again. But I hope you will al
ways be happy."
Alice took the letter up stairs with
her, and cried all night over it. In
the morning she bathed her red eyes
very carefully, and looked at hejself
narrowly in the glass as she combed
out her dark locks."
"And so I'm to be an old maid for
all time,"-she Baid, very scberiy.
That is the romance of one camp
meeting. n.
"Oh ! botheration !" remarked Sam.
"Sam Harrington ! before heaven
I believe you are the -laziest, slovenli
est, crossest, uncivilizedest old bache
lor that ever vegetated outside of a
grizzly bear's hollow tree. I can
hardly believe you are my cousin any
more, as I think of what you were
fifteen years ago when you visited us,
and look at 3'ou now, stout, chuffy,
slovenly and rich, caring for nothing
on the earth or under the heavens
but your nasty pipe. An old bache
lor i9 a disgrace to humanity, any
how. Sam Harrington I 6ay for
the Lord's sake, get up and -put on
this clean shirt t"
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1875.
Sam grunted. The little woman
poked him energetically in the ribs.
"Your duty to your health impera
tively demands it," she said.
Sam groaned. The little lady pok
ed bim again.
"By all the laws of reason and loglo
thia duty Is pressingly incumbent on
yotf. Allow md to put It td you in
the light of public duty which j'ou
owe to your kiqd, as a member of a
oivllized community, and not a Hot
tentot or a red Indian. Moreover, I,
your cousin, implore you with tears
in my eyes to oblige me immensly
and go and change your linen, and
not to disgrace irie before the world.
There, now, is a consideration whioh
ought to inpve a heart of stone."
Sam elevated his right foot across
his left knee and regarded attentively
a hole in the toe of his rdgged right
slipper.
"Oh, pshaw!" gays he. "There is
no pest on earth equal to a woman."
"And besides that sooiety expects It
of you," continued the little woman,
punching him with great vigor.
He arose and slowly stretched him
self. Then he disappeared and pres
ently came back, having reluctantly
made the required change of raiment.
But the wristbands were Unbuttoned
and Ihe collar and bosom terribly
crumpled. His cousin eyed him dis
contentedly. "See tho man now !" she said; "and
that beautiful bosomtoo, looks as if
you'd been rolling down somebody's
shed roof. I declare you're enough
to drive a woman mad. And you're
going to our camp-meeting with us
tor, atrd I wanted; so much to intro
duce you to.WIdow "
"Drat all women !" said Sam, re
flectively. "Drat all women especi
ally widows."
"But our widow isn't a widow at
all ; she's she's an old maid. I do
not know why everybody oallH lier
Widow but that's the name she is al
ways known by. She used to be rich
when she was young, but she was real
bright and learned then, very learned
for a rioh man's daughter. Her fath
er died, they io'st their fortune, and
Widow had to work for a living. She
came here and has actually been
principal of our village High School
for the last seven years. There never
was a woman held the place before,
and there never was a man who filled
it half so well. Her graduates make
theibest wives and the -beat school-
iw -&- t . im i mi a i m" '-- - -
Sam. I used to be a sohool-mistrese
myself."
"Yes," said Sam.
"Modest, you
know."
"And the Widow has dode an 1m
measureable lot of good among the
girls here. She has made them like
herself, as far as they've sense enough
to be it brave, strong, honest and
wise. There never was another like
her, Sam. She supports her mother
out of her earnings, and and dresses
like a lady, too," said Sam's cousin,
adding the 13St as the climax of all
praise.
"I don't like paragons," said Sam.
"Awful tiresome."
"At any rate, you're In no danger
of being taken for one yourself" re
plied the sharp little w'omanr "You
had the world before you, and we
were all so proud of you, and had
6uch high hopes of you. You were
gsiDgo be a famous poet, reform
preacher, ,aud the Lord knows what,
and you've not been any of it. When
you die, I shall have this label tacked
across your coffin : 'He began life a
poet, full of graud hopes aud aspira
tions, and he ended by being a slov
enly old bachelor, who made a for
tune in the brick-pressing business."
"Cousin Mary, Jet's start to the
camp-meeting."
At the camp-ground Sam Harring
ton and little Mrs. Gerty sat among
the devout part of . the' congregation,
aud listened to the sermon like old
folks. When it was over aud they had
all left the wooden benches, a tall,
pale lady, with lustrous black eyes,
and dark wavy hair, stood up facing
them. An aged lady with silvery
hair and esweet, plaold face leaned
on the other's arm, and the younger
lady carefully supported her feeble
ateps
"That's Widow and her mother,"
whispered Sam's cousin. "Isn't she
lovely ?"
Sam looked. The fine, delicate
face was the least bit faded and tired
looking, but not a bit soured or
gloomy. Oh, no! not the least. It
was a clear, true face fine, strong
and pure, like steel or silk, or some
thing of that sort. Little Mrs. Gerty
caught the school-rrifstresses's hand.
"Widow!" said she, "this is Cousin
Sam Harrington, a rich, slovenly, old
bachelor. I wish vou'd take him off
my bauds. Sam Miss Kildare."
"Wh-a-at!" screamed he, crazily.
"Don't hurt my urm so. What did
you do that for?" said Mrs Gerty.
"Mr. Harington and I used to know
each other long ago, when I was
young," eald the' school-mistress,
calmly, but with and ineffable look
from her dark, sottly-fringed eyes.
T mat Tr. TTn.rrin'rfnn flftppn veara
J. U.- ..--. .U.W.. ..,. .,
ago at a camp-meeting. I have never
seen him from that day to this."
Then she moved on in a calm,
graceful way, with a little spot of
quivering sunshine glancing across
her gray dress as she passed. And
the first thing Sam Harrington did
was to look sheepishly down at his
dusty old boots, while his face red
dened slowly with the memory of an
old flame. He laid his hand upon
Mrs. Gerty's arm.
mistresses in" theountry. School-n(rowejraijlyX-
nkigoadwjiga.
f i
"Cousin Mary, you said awhile ago
that I used to be a poet and an enthu
siast, with bright hopes aud grand
aspirations, and it has all ended in
my being a useless, slovenly old bach
elor, who got rioh at patent briok
making. That woman knows why."
"Then I'm sure you wronged her
more than she wronged you. She is
the truest, best, brightest woman I
ever knew. I do wonder if you are
the man she nearly broke her heart
about long ago? I've heard a whis
per of that, I'm sure. You wero al
ways too hardand unforgiving, Sam."
Little Mrs. Gerty, romantio as a
girl, watched them narrowly. Were
the old flames kindling into life
again? Sometimes little Mrs, Gorty
thought they had never died entirely
out from the heart of either. Sam
Harrington began td black his boots
and button his wristbands.
One summer moonlight evening
Alice Kildare sat on the porch of the
little cottage in which she lived with
her mother. She was looking down
the avenue of trees in front toward
the west, where the sun was sinking
in the glowing sky. Sam Harrington
came slowly up the walk and joined
heron the poroh
"Widow Kildare,". he said, "I've
come to bid you good-by."
"Have you?" said Widow. She
would not ask a word more.
"Yes; I must go back to my muck
raking. Bricks, you know, and clay
and furnaces and things. I meant; to
be a poet when I used to be in love
with you fifteen years ago,
a brick maker."
Used to be! That was
had staid ati old maid'for.
Now I'm
what she
Her heart
wa9 like lead in her bosom but she
smiled and said : "After all, a briok
maker is as good as a poet."
Are you sure that you think that,
Widow Kildare?"
"Yes ; quite sure."
"Wouldn't you like to see 'em the
great brick-yn'rds, and the huge fur
naces, baking the patent bricks by
the half million?"
"Yes ; answered Widow. "I could
tell the school-children about it, you
know."
Sam Harrington made a face. Then
he looked at her and saw that, in spite
of the brave, proud head which she
held up so stately, her face was pale
and sorrowful as face could be, a9 tho
she were parting with a last- great
uPe- "TSTi . - . :W
And he actuallyBmlled to se
She had tortunwlmbitterlyM1
see
;it.
i
nnnA
4 T- "-. 1 ! " W JM
fn "
He threw his hat aoross the the floor
and sat, down on the edge of the porch
at her feet.
"Alice," he said, "why haven't you
been married ? What have you stay
ed single all these years for?"
She looked at him and tried to an
swer, but the sound died away in sor
rowful, bitter sobs, and she covered
her face with her hands. The brave,
proud woman was crying. He took
one of the slim, cold hands in both
his own.
"Alice I never got over it the old
hurt you gave me" once. I never got
over the old love either. Bo my wife
now darling, and let us begin all new
again."
A little, old fashioned portfolio lay
on her lap. .Sfie took from it a slip of
paper, all yellow and oreased with
age. She held the paper toward him.
"Samuel.Harrington ! You said in
this note that a woman wa9 incapable
of truth or faithfulness. Will you
take it back ?" shesaid, softly. "Will
you take it all back?"
He tore the paper into shreda and
fragments and blew it away through
his fingers, and I don't know where
the wind carried it.
"So, please Heaven ! my hand shall
remove ull that gives you' pain or
trouble as long a you live. God bless
you, my wife! God bless us all!"
In spite of tho globe of magnetized
water, Alice Kildare didn't die an old
maid.
"There is no love like one's first
love, after all," said little Mrs. Gerty
to her cousin.
"No, there isn't that is if one's
first love changes' so as to suit as oile
grows older," answered Sam, with o
miserable attempt at being philoso
phical instead of sentimental.
And that is the romance of the' sec
ond camp-meeting.
Keep Mirroks Out of the Sun.
It does not seem to be generally un
derstood that the amalgam of tin foil
with mercury which is spread on glass
plates to make looking glasses, is ve
ry readilyjcrystalized by actinio solar
rays. A mirror hung where tho sun
can ahine on it Is easily spoiled ; It
takes a granulated appearance famil
iar to housekeepers, though they may
not be acquainted with tho cause of
the change. In such s state the arti
cle Is nearly worthless, the continuity
of the surface is destroyed, ond it will
not reflect outlines with any approach
to precision.
At what what time did Satan make
his appearance in the garden of Eden?
Some time in the night. He certain
ly came after Eve.
Miss Ros3, a Chicago epinster, has
recovered $10,000 damages for a breach
of promise of marriage from George
H. Fancher, a wealthy California
ranchman.
Horse thieves in Texas are serenad
ed by stringbands.
A fishing smack Kissing' a' girl
when she is pouting.
VOL. 19.--JST0.
rJ
"WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT.
If you've any task todo.
Lot me whisper, friend, to you,
Dolt.
If you've anything to say.
True and needed, yea or nay,
Say it'
If you're any thing to love,
As a blessing from above.
Love it.
If you've anything to give.
That another's Joy may live.
Give It.
If you know what torch to light;
Guiding others through the night,
Light It.
If you've any debt to pay.
Rest you neither night or day,
Pay it.
If you'vo any Joy to hold
Next your heart, lest It grow cold,
Hold 1U
If you've any grief to meet
At the loving Father's feet.
Meet It.
If you're given light to seo
What a child of God should be.
See It.
Whether life bo bright or drear.
There's a rnessago sweet or clear
Whispered down to every ear; "
Hear it.
SJEI& .'JACKSON'S COURTSHIP.
It was a law in Tennessee, in early
days, that a man could be divorced
from his wife only by two successive
acts of the legislature, aud it took two
sessions of the body to accomplish the
feat. Application for divorce was
made personally before the legislature
and it was" decided by a vote whether
the cause should be heard or not at
the next session. If the decision was
favorable, the case was investigated
by a committee, who reported at the
next session favorably or otherwise,
according to the evidence, and the de
cree of divorce was granted or refused
as the" case might be.
Mrs. Jackson's first husband was a
miserable scamp named Roberts. She
loft him and induced him to apply
to the legislature for a divorce.
He did so, and she, supposing the de
cree granted, after a year or more,
married Andrew Jackson. After a
time it was discovered that Roberts
had not taken the case to the legislat
ure for its second hearing, and a de
cree had not been granted, although
Jackson had been living with Mrs.
Roberta for two years as his wife. But
a divorce was finally obtained, and
Mr. and Mrs. Jackson remarried ao
cqdlng tojlawIZ This innocent trans
gression of eUwt-iendthe
the Hermitage. This led to tWjkfthr
of Dickinson, and was the cauBe of
nearly all the seventeen duels in
which Jackson was engaged. He
would allow no man to reproach his
his wife for unchastity ; and she, it
seems, was quite' as sensitive. In his
camDaicm for the Presidency this
scandal was revived, and there is no
doubt it shortened her life. The as
persions upon her character crushed
her; that she, who had been a chaste,
faithful wife for thirty-seven years ;
the guide, the leader, and the orna-
meutof a religious circle, should be
dragged into the public prints and
held up to the contempt of a nation as
an adulteress was more than she co'd
endure. She died of heart disease.
Said one of her friends : "Her heart
was broken ; It was a clear case of a
broken heart."
Tree Peddlers Tricks of tlie Trade.
The following is from the Iowa
Homestead. There are occasionally
honorable exceptions amongst the tree
peddlers, yet the tree planter would
do well to heed what the Homestead
says :
What western" farmer's premises
has not at sometime been invaded by
the "brush peddler," a dapper little
fellow trimmed in tight pans, bob
tail coat, patent leather shoes, plug
hat and "kiliingest" kind of a neck
tie. Armed and equipped with a half
dozen fruit tree catalogues of popular
nurseries, and one of thoBe beautiful
Fruit Piece Books, and an order book,
ho is prepared to "forage on the ene
my." He is a wonderful smooth
talker, always represents the identic
al nursery you want to deal with, and
can" fill orders for any variety of fruit
you are partial to. He seldom fails to
get an order for something, often for
a large bill of fruit, shfuhbery and or
namental trees.
When spring or fall comes, and the
trees come, the buyer almost invaria
bly finds that he has been most
shamefully swindled. You have no
redress, for you have taken the bare
assertion of an irresponsible tree ped.
dler, who has no local habitation, no
character or responsibility, nothing
under heavens to recommend him to
the public confidence, but a smooth,
oily tongue fashionable clothes and a
nicely painted fruit book.
Thousands of western farmers have
been victimized by these 'bummers.'
Now we have onljT to say In conclus
ion, that if the people will still contin
ue to give orders to thee tree peddl
ers, after repeated expositions of tho
tricks of the trade have been publish
ed, they do so knowing!-, aud have
no excuse for grumbling when swin
dled. There are plenty of reliable
nurseries In the western States, whoso
proprietors have a reputatiou built-up
by long year3 of industry, experi
ence and honest dealing, that they
will never forfeit for temporary profit;
they advertise in the leading agricul
tural papers ; they know what varie
ties of fruit are adapted to the differ
ent localitie, and there is no risk in
sendiDg ordera directly to them.
ADVERTISING RATES.
Space.
I '-I i-btSSjffi-
I Inch
3 inches..
6 Inches.
12 Inches.
;4 Inches.
11 00 I $2 CO I
2 50 400 I
4 00 I 600 I
7 CO I 10 00 j
12 00 I 18 00
l 00 I $10
150 I 20
2 75 I 36
5 00 I eo
8 00 1 1C0
Legaladverttsements atlecal rates: One square
(lOHneof Nonpareil space, or less,) first Insertion
$1,00; eacbsubseqnent Insertion. 50a
5-Alltransclent advertisements must be paid'
orlnadvance. .
OFFICIAL PAPER OF THE C0TJKTT
TOWELS.
It Is aot uncoinmohV in country
houses, for all members of the family
to use the same towel for wiping their
hands and faces. I am often surpris
ed to see how this practJce; prevails,
even among people of considerable
cultivation ; frequently the towel is
made of three yards of good crash,
sewed together at the end arid hung
over a roller. This seems to be very
generous and nice when it 1$ clean,
but not bo after it has hung there two
or three days, used morning, noon
and night, by half a dozen persons.
We may bs'able to enduY"? a great
deal of our own dirt, when we are ob
liged to, but it is no fa morbid delica
cy that shrinks from usiDg a towel
soiled by other persons. Each hu
man body gives forth its own peculiar
excretions from every pore of the
skin, waste matter, more or Iessfiltby,
bo it is not merely the impurity de
rived from external "sources that wo
wash and wipe when we perform our"
ablutions. It is also this one's dys
pepsia, that one's billiousiiess, and thet
other one's tobacco'; ugh !
Give me a clean towel, please ! And
give every child its own towel and ita
own comb as soon as it is old enough
to use them ; and now I'wnnt to add
please, O, fellow citizen ! give ev
ery human being n ohance to bathe
tho whole body, privately, whenever
one wishes' to do so, in a comfortable
bath-tub, and all the.cleaxi towels de-'
sired. AmericanTAgriculturist.
Smart ciiiLmueiVf
Connected with the Presbyterian'
ohurch on N street, Is a very
flourishing Sunday-school, which,
with most all' the Protestant schools
in the city, commenced on January
1st, the study of the International ser
ies of lessons, begining with the Cre
ation of the World. The second les
son was about the Garden of EdeiiC
The teacher of the infant class, which
numbers about a hundred boys and
girls, on Inst Sabbath was question
ing these little ones on the previous
lesson, to see how much they remem?
bered of what bad been taught them.
As she wenff over the successive days'
of creation, obtaining very satisfac
tory a'nswers, before proceeding to the
proper lessons for the day, she inquir
ed who was the first man created, and"
"Adam" was the unanimous rep'y.
"What was the nexrf slop ihVcref
linn 9" ccl-ort tliet foanhnr --SkJSBi
t!'jEv," was the prompt, reply.
Then one or two qneatlo&s as-
- i i
toj
how Eve wan created edtl forwhat
purpose, were asked and answered.
Then came the next question.
"What wan the next thing crea
ted?" Expeotiug, of course, that tho
"Garden of Eden" would be the
prompt reply, the teacher was some
what astonished that there was" no
Immediate answer, but she was still
more astonished, and most effectually
silenced for the remoinder of the les
son, when a little girl smart beyond
her years, spoke up s'ha said :
"I gues3 it was a.little baby."
The class was promptly dismissed,
and we presume the child will be rec
ommended for promotion to a higher
grade.
The construction of the Centennial
buildings at Philadelphia is making
favorable progress. The estimated
cost of the enterprise in its details has
been published, and it appears that
the greater part of the required sum
is already secured. This includes the
means for the structure uA follows :
Main building, $2,000,000; arifgaHery
$1,500,000; machinery building, $800-
000 : nud conservatory. $200,000. To
tal, $4 500,000. The following expen
ditures have yet to be provided for:
Agricultural machinery building,
$250,000; water, gas grading, rail
road facilities, and sanitary arrange
ments, $1,000,000; general adminis
tration, $500,000; and an addition of
25 per cent, for errors and contingen
cies, the whole amounting to $2,025,-
000. It is gratifying to learn that
there is no reasonable doilbt of this"
sum being obtained within the inter
val of time remaining, and reports
show a largely increasing interest
throughout th country In favor oX?
the enterprise.
Secretary Bristow has officially de
cided that journalism is a profession,'
under the folIowing"circuinstance3:
An American journalist who was re
turning from Europe, bringing with
him a considerable quantity of books
for his own library, held that the
books were entitled to be entered du
ty free, under that eectlon of the cus
tom law3 which makes provision for
the free importation of books for the
library of a pby&ician, a lawyer and
a clergyman. The custom-housse'offi-cers
at Baltimore, where the books
wero entered, decided that journalism,
is not a profession, and that the hooka
must pay duty. An appeal was tak
en to the Secretary of the Treasury
who has reversed their decision.
Prince Georger of RusslS fs writing
a drama, the subject of wiiioh is taken
from the Old Testment,
General Sheridan was sustained
and thanked by a meeting of colored
citizens at New Orleans.
Benton G. Bo'oue the new Speaker
of the Missouri House of Representa
tives, is a grandson of Dan'el Boone.
Drains on the public purse need re
i.
n
g
HI
I
ii
i l i
If1
YM