[HE PEOPLE,
PUBLISHED BY
CCHARLES C. PEARSON CO.
e Office in State Block.
Tarms—3ingle coples per year, in advar e, $2 00
Sabseribers living within the thickly settled part @i
the cscyy, can have their pa{m-s delivered to theirdoo:s
L¥ paylog twenty-five cents additional.
CLUB RATES:
‘L'wo copiss one year, diret oa e eoD
Three ooyiefine year, 0 e SRk 6.00
g‘&u’ COpies one year, b smy Ral e e 6.50
e copies one year, N e 7.60
Fiy coyiiea one year, P sTers. LS 62.50
Huudred copies one year, 100.00
Orders to be aocompanied with the Cash.
s@ Money remitted by mail at the risk of the sender.
e e
Professional Card
rofessional uvardads.
w,u:sn.u.r. CHASE, Attorneys and Coun-
Al scllocs at Law, CONCORD, N.H. s Soldiers’
Back Pay, I}ountg and Pensions, procured, and other
Aemy and Navy Claims prosecuted.
ANSON S, MARSHALL, (Its) WILLIAM M, CHASE.
lEO. STORRS BLANCITARD, At-borne}{ and
X Counsellor, and Notary Public, Exchange Block,
CoxcorDp, N. H. Its
J WARE BUTTERFIELD, Attorney and
o Counsellor at Law, Sticknoy’s fnock, CONCORD,
N. I FE Its
Dll. A. H. CROSBY, Surgeon, Stickn%f’s Block,
Opposite State House, Gosoog_li_. N. H, 15!‘.___
DE.‘\’T!STRY..
CUMMINGS YOUNG,
Office—Phenix Block CONCORD,
wo doors south Phenix Hotol.
B. G, COMMINGS, D.D. 8. (2-1 y @.A.YOUNG.
J W.BARNEY, M. D., Concord, N., H. Oflice
e with Dr. Crosby.
RESIDENCE— Corner of Warren and Merrimack
Streets.
January 12, 1871,
S L. F. SIMPSON, M. D., Surgeon and Phy
e Siclan.
Office and Residence, 87 Main street, Concord,
N.H. 391 y
T VAL S ST A P el A T Wl T R TSI, SN AR S DN TS RIS

Business Direetory.
JOHN I. EASTMAN,
Dealer in i
Guns, Rifles, Fishing Tackle,
snd Sporting Articles generally.
City Gun Store, CONCORD, N. H.
Guns and Rifles made to order, and all kinds ox
Repair'mq done in the best manner, Orders by Ex
press will receive careful attention. Its
JAMES STEVENS,
Real EKstate Agent,
OPPOSITE THE DEPOT,
CONTOOCOOKVILLE, N. H.,
Calls attention to the large amount of Real Estate in
his hands, which is offered to purchasers at very
low rates. 1t consists of Farms, Village Resi
dences,Pastures,Wood and Timbexj lf’,‘,"f,"f’; LR
WORKMANSHIP UNEQUALLED.
i ill
Circular and Mill Saws.
GAGE, PORTER CO.’S SAWS,
Manuflactured at Fisherville, N. H., after many {eea.rs’
use in ail parts of the country, are admitted to be the
BEST in the market.
Having made many improvements in their works
they continue to manufacture the Best of Cast Steel
Baws, of all kinds. Also, Cast Steel Whiflletree
Springs, warranted superior to any in use.
Saws repaired in the best manner. Orders by mail
or express promptly answered.
CALVIN GAGE,
JOHN C. GAGE,
Fisherviile, Jan, 17, 1871, 29tf ISAAC K. GAGE.
NG MACHINES
SEWIN
IF your Sewing Machine wants cleanip%or r%mlring,
send oy bring it to GW. WILSON’S Rooms,
over Morrill Silsby’s Store, and have it put in first
rate condition at a moc},erahe expense. 47tf
Cencord, May 14, 1870,
S. G. ILANK,
i
Real Estate Agent,
CONCORD, N. H. 4-ts
PURE LIQUORS,
DOUBLE DISTILLED.
IWe constantly hold a LARGE STOCK of
the finest and purest liguors in the United
States, Whiskeys--Monongahela, Rye, and
Boarbon (J.Gibson’s Son Co.’s brands,) Gins,
Drandies, Cherry Juice, Bitters, Essences,
Port, Sherry, Claret and Madeira Wines f
Refined Cider, Gulnness’ Porter, &c. i
HAYES CO.,
WIIOLESALE DEALERS,
Manchester.
N. B.—lmporters of Basg’ Burton Ales, agems for
Caldwell’s Newburyport Rum, and Reuter Alley’s
Ales, &c. Circnlars sent on application. 1y26
T MASSACHUSETTS

Mutual Life Insurance Comp'y,
SPRINGFIELD, MASS.
C. RICE, Pres. F. B. BACON, Sec’y.
V., B. EDGERLY, Superintendent of Agencies,
MANCHESTER, N. H,
This Company is strictly Mutnal, giving to its members:
n equtable ratio, all the profits. Its assets are ove
$82.000.000.
Annua: Dividends hereafter on the Centribution Plan
thus urnishing Insurance at exact cost.
J. 8, THOMPSON, Agent
W Concord, N. 11.
Houses and Farms for Sale,
HOUSE Lots; Intervale; Plain; Wood and Tim
ber Lands, in Concord. Also, Farms in New
Hampshire; Vi](lage Property; Mifls, and Western
Landlz]; for sale or exchange, by
J. B, RAND, Real Estate Broker,
EXCHANGE DUILDING, Concord, N. H.
Jaauary 1, 1870, 28tf
WILLSON
T
SHUTTLE SEWING MACHINES.
N P A PRI E
oy CE,
N
/N
(A FORTY-FIVE
N
A RETLSO A
JX DOLLARS.
SINPLE, DURABLE AND RELIABLE
!y 5
More important and essential elements, embodied
in this celebrated machine than any other in the world.
Does every variety of work. Its Mechanism is wun
excelled. CERTIFICATE OF WARRANTY
FOR FIVE YEARS furnished by the manufactur
:zrs with each machine, secured by a half million dol
afghnccments offered worthy the careful considera
tion of capitalists.
Send for circulars and sample sewing.
AGENTS WANTED in unoccupied terirtory,
9
R. 6. BELLAMY Co.,Gen’l Ag'ts,
G 623 Washington street, BOSTON.
Sept. 18, 1871* 13-3 m
HARVEY, MORGAN CO.,

f,_‘i‘-.',y,;- XU
Manufacture (o order
00, 8 PASSENGER
(OACKES, EXPRES
WAGONS.
And all styles Buggies, Phaetons, Cabriolets, and
Bretts, Constantly on hand
Light and Livery Carriages, and Jump Seat
CORD,
CONCO y N. H.
J, C, HARVEY, R, M. MORGAN, 0. P. MOORE.
Mortice and Rim Locks
MADE BURGLAR PROOF BY
BEAN'S IMPROVED BURGLAR FOIL.
PRICE, FIFTEEN CENTS,
Sent b&)mail to any address on receipt of price, or
four for 50 ets. Agents wanted,
Address, R. E. BEAN
Btf Franklin, N. H.
AND
AL INSTRUMENTS
MUSICAL
The Largest and best stock in the State, comprising
CIIICHERING SONS’, and HALLETT
CUMSTON’S
PIANOS GF VARIOUS STYLES,
SMITH’S “AMERICAN,” and GEO. WOODS CO.’S
PARLOR AND VESTRY ORGANS,
Violins, Guitars, Accordeons, Flutinas, Concertinas
Flutes, Flageolets, Strings for all Instruments and all
Musical Merchandise usnall{ kept in a well minted
Mugeic Store. My stock of SBheet Music and ks is
very large and complete.
Second-Hand Instruments for Sale and to Rent.
WARREN K. DAY,
TEACHER of the PIANO FORTE, ORGAN
and Cultivation of the Volce.
MUSIC AND PIANO FORTE WAREROOMS

Nos. 2 and 3 Merchants’ Block.
VYVOLUME 4.
THE HOWE MACHINE (0.,
e 136
et
R WASHINGTON STREET,
Ty
’/:l; Boston.
.‘;J BRANCH OFFICE,
Y ~No. 161.
MAIN STREET, COLUMBIAN BIOCH,
CONCORD, N. H.
New Hampshire Savings Bank,
IN CONCORD.
TK.IS BANK is receiving money on deposit, on
which it pays five per cent. per annum, free of
all Taxes.
Two Dividends of two and one-half per cent.
are made semi-annually each year, and interest is
computed for one quarter on prior dividends, in mak
ing succeeding dividends.
2% An Extra Dividend of the surplus earnings
is made each five years.
A%~ Any further information will be furnished by
addressing the Treasurer.
A5~ Bioney received on Deposit, and paid
out on Check at sight, without interest.
Drafts for money, furnished for remittance.
Baunking Rooms opposite the State House.
JOSEPH B. WALKER, President.
CHAS. W, SARGENT, Treasurer.
oncord, Jan. 1, 1869, 20-ts
r v 1
TONA SAVINGS BANK,
TILTON, N. H.
ASA P. CATE, PRESIDENT.
WM. T. CASS, TREASURER. 50-6 m 1
Penacook Savings Bank,
Located at the Post Ofiice,
FISHERVILLE, N. H.
DEPOSITS received from 5 cents to $53,000 00—
Declares a dividend on the first day of October
of each year of 5 per cent.
Interest commences the first daZnOf each month.
Deposits free from all taxes. ‘An extra dividend of
the surplus earnings declared each ¢wo years.
Money received on depoeit and ‘Paid out on check
at sight, without interest. Drafts for momiz furnish
ed for remittance. Office hours from S&tg 11 A. M, and
2to4kP, M. HENRY H. BRO President. l
SAMUEL F. BROWN, Treasurer. 9tf
MORRILL SILSBY,

PRINTEBS, BINDERS,
AND STATIONERS, I
AND DEALERS IN

Blank Books and Fancy Goods,
Central Block, Opposite the Depot, l
CONCORD. 2t
F. 8. CRAWFORD,
i
Book Binder,
e
Blank Book Manufacturer, z
Statesman Building, corner Main and Depot Streets, I
CONCORD. N. H. 19u|
TR
"Trade
Mark.
MANUFACTURED FOR THE TRADE ONLY, BY
D. ARTHUR BROWN CO.,
FISHEBVILLI,:I,‘[Coscoxn] N. 11.
-1y
Adams’ Ale House.
G. Jl. C. G. ADAMS,
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in Gaul’s, Flem
ming’s, Massey, Collins Co.'s, and
Cook’s
Sitock Ales.
And Agents for Fisher's Present Use and Stock Ales
Main Btreet, Opposite Phenix Hotel,
44-ts CONCORD, N, M.
Price Reduced!'!
GENUINE ELIAS HOWE
SEWING MAGHINES,
SOLD FOR S3O AT
8. 6. NOYES’ VARIETY STORE,
FISHERVILLE, N. /1.
Watches, Clocks, Jewelry, L—l;;ical Instruments,
Books, Stationery, Faney Goods, Confectionery, &c.
SECOND HAND SEWING MACHINES
for sale and to rent. 30 ts
R. ILEWIS COEK,
AUCTIONEER,
WILL ATTEND TO TEE
Sale of Real Estate and Personal Property,
Promptly, and on tlle‘most reasonable terme,
it IR i
ALSO, ASSISTANCE, RENDERED IN PRE
PARING AUCTION BILLS,
GIIATUITOUSL‘Y;;&VE{EN DESIRED.
All Orders, by Mail ‘or fopress, addressed to
R.Lewis Coe, Centre Harbor, N.H.
WILL RECEIVE IMMEDIATE ATTENTION, 48-6 m
C A l
—AND—

Palmer’s Springs.
HAVING a full stock of the above celebrated
Axles, we are prepared to furnish them in any
quantity also, Wheel Rims, Spokes, Ilubs,
Seats, Bolts, Mall. Iron, and all other materials
used in the manufacture ot Cnmiafies.
WARDE, HUMPHREY DODGE.
A LARGE AMOUNT OF
Real Estate for Sale or Exchange
Consisting of Farms varying in prices from 800
to $;’(;,00%.
Houses from SIOOO to SIO.OOO. House Lots, Wood,
Timber, Pasture and Interval Lands. Also
Mills and Water Powers. For sale by
WM. G. ROGERS, Real Estate Ag’t,
PLYMOUTH, N. H. 88-ts
Blacksmith’s Stock and
Ml Tools
OF ALL KINDS,
L SOLD BY,
ABD’E. NUMPHREY DODGE.
E. KNIGHT,
DEALER IN
Fine Watches, Jewelry, Silver
Ware and Faney Goods,
Opposite American House,
CONCORD, N. H.
an‘gm:?gfi tgtli?cn and Jewelry carefully rop%d.
o
$240 in Six Weeks
Just cleared by one of our agents. More men
wanted to sell ‘‘Year of Battles,” or great War
between France and Germany, Splendidly illustrat
ed. Selling rapid?.
Also, New and Beautiful Map of U. 8. and
the World. New M?IB of Vt, and N. H., just fin
ished. Together with Last Supper and Crucifix
oh ok ek ir t od
pply at once ror Agency if you want a go
business to D. L. GUERHSEY, Publisher and gook
seller, Concord, N. H. 45-ts
Phenix Hotel,
CONCORD, N.H.
J. R.CROCKER,
PROPRIETOR.
E‘)E?B(’)?sr_;-}ugj: to and from the Depot. 'B¢
A Cabingt Organ in Every Family!
Are now prepared to furnish Societies, Lodges,
or individuals, with CABINET ORGANS
&\or MELODEONS of any desired size,
S ‘:o\with from Two to TWELVE STors,
With /?\nnd containing all the latest
thetr pre- \improvemenu, at LOWER
gent improv- QUCES than ever before.
ed foclities for 0 0 Their Instruments are
manufacturing, are FULLYWARRANTED
also enabled to sell, if and five years al
desired, upon MONTHLY 0 lowed to test
PAYMENTS. Thirty-Eight the sgme.
Sizesand Styles. NEW SOLO 04
STOPS! Call and examine, or send 4
for Price-Lists and Circulars. Orcans 0
and MELODEONS to rent. Address o
PRESCOTIT ORGAN €oO.,Concord, N.H N\
ITHE PEOPLE
Poetic Gems.
MINE.
Safe by the firelight I hear the winds blow,
Out of the window are wild wastes of snow;
Here as'l sit by the firelight alone,
See the drifts glitter, and hear the winds moan,
Children’s fair faces look in through the night,
One and another, the pale and the bright;
Dear to my soul while it Joves will they be,
But when they called Mother,” they did not call me!
One fell asleep on the flelds of the Wost,
A soldier’s blue jacket Wram)ed over his breast,
No more those dark eyes w! brifhten for me,
Never again that keen smile shall I see,
Never be clasped in the arms of my boy.
Yet is he mine beyond death to destroy,
Mine in the love that knows future nor past,
Mine while the pulses of tenderness last:
Livinslor dying mg child he will be
But when he called Mother,” he did not call me,
One wears a shadow across her fair brow,
But {‘hg shadow is brighter than sunbeams are now;
Her brilliant face softens, her roses grow Jmle, v
In the glow of its whiteness—her new bridal veil.
%lvy loveliest baby God keep thee as pure,
hile thy llis and thfv love shall together endure,-
As the first hour I held thee, asleeg in my arms,
Serene in the halo of babyhood’s charms.
God send thee sweet children to stand at thy knee,
Who, when they say “Mother,” shall say it to thee,
Two little faces with glittering hair,
All the long day-time hang over m‘{ chair;
Faces I watched over morning and night,
Eyes that once blest me with deepest delight,
Voices that thrilled to the depths of mY soul
Shake it with longings I cannot control
Oh! if those dear lives should falter and fail,
The veins of my heart at their sources would quail;
Life would forsake me though death should forget
All that I have on their being is set,
Dearer than livin§ or loving can be;
Yet when they call ‘“‘Mother,” they do not call me.
—Galaxy.
THE LIFE HARP.
The noisless moving hours are bringing
Changes ever changes ringing
On the harp of life, whose measures
Beat to solemn sounds and pleasures.
With low tones of misery mourning,
Slowly, aad:iy, in the morning;
But the shades of evening stealing
O’erus hear its merry pealing.
Changing, changing, ever changing
Oh! lfi'e h;u'p thy strains are blendln'x
Earthg tones with heavenly breathing,
Holy thoughts mid cares enwreathing.
O’er earth’s wide wilderness it sings
Till death with rude hand sweeps the strings,
One wailing song, the harp is broken,
Its dying notes are sadly spoken.
But when the strings are rudcly riven,
The echo sounds afar in heaven,
And greets the soul just newly come
In welcome to it heavenly home.
Thro’ the days of our rejoicing,
Thro’ the days of grayer and fasting,
When demon doubts around us sweep,
In darkening robes and bid us weep;
When hope, with gentle guiding hand,
Points upward to that better land,
Its measured murmers still beat on,
As fall the life sands,one by one.
Oh! dear life harp, what hand would stay
Thy fitful music for one day,
One hour, one moment let it be,
In life or death ’tis destiny.
We would not know when we were blest
If all our hours were hours of rest:
Nor would we know the depths of love,
1f human hearts could never rove.
For those who suffer most, love best,
Know most, feel most, from out of the past
They lessons learn, and memories sad,
Of other days make these seem glad.
A Domestic Sketch.
Mrs, Dana'’s Secret.
The Lawrences are going abroad,” said
Robert Dana to his young wile one evening,
“I met Tom to-day, and he said he and Car
rie would sail on the 26th, and the furniture
be sold at auction.”
Oh, how we shall miss them and what
a pity to have that handsome old furniture
scattered among strangers! We have had
man{ happy times there, Robert.”
Yes, Annie; it wasthere I first saw you,
do you remember? You were playing chess
on that old Chinese chess-table, so absorded
that you did not see me come in; and I
stood wondering who that maid in blue could
be. I don’tlike to have that table seld at
auction, dear; I wish it would occur to Car
rie to send it to us as a farewell present.”
That would be very nice; but as she is
not at all romantic, she hasno idea how or
why we value it." o
I suppose if I offered to buy it, Tom
would not accept any pay; and then we
should feel asif we had begged a pres
ent.”
“Yes; and, besides, we cannot saftord it,
Robert.”
“How much is it worth
*Jt must have cost a hundred dollars when
it was new but I presume it will go for fif
ty, as it issomewhat defaced. We must not
think of it, though, dear. You know the
last of our ‘luxury fund’ went for Dickens’
reading, and we agreed to have no more
treats till fall. I dare say we should not
play very often if we had it—reading aloud
is so much nicer.”
Thus the brave, conscientious little woman
turned away from the tempting theme, and
it was not resumed between them. Annie
Dana, however, had a great fund of that
tough quality which is now blamed as ‘‘ob
stinancy,” then praised as ‘“‘firmness.” The
more she told herself that the chess-table was
unattainable, the more did a persistent inner
voice reply, ‘I must have it?” But how?
Dozens of schemes occurred to her, but none
that seemed practicable. When she awoke
in the night, the weary question flashed
back, and with it, like an inspiration, its an-
swer. She would write a story for the—
and so earn the needful money.
Had she not at school, several years before,
sent two or three anonymous stories to a
country weekly, just fur the frolic of it, and
‘had they not been printed? To be sure they
were not paid for. She would have almost
‘scorned money then, so deliciously sufficing
was it to see her own words in print. But
there must be the sordid reality of payment
now and how delightful to surprise Robert
with the table, show him her article, and en
joy his appreciating praise! But before this
dizzy climax could be reached much must
be done. What should she write about?
When find time? How bid for the table?
And all without Robert’s knowledge P Ab
sorbed in these questions, she appeared sad
ly absent during breaktast, greatly to her
husband’s surprise and mortification. After
she had put two spoons in his saucer, asked
for butter when already supplied, and pour
ed maple syrup over his steak, he began to
be alarmed, insisted on feeling her pulse,
and inquired if she had slept well. Annie
disclaimed sickness, but admitted that her
night had been restless; and finally, to
please him, promised to take a nap during
the day. Never having concealed anything
from him before, the weight of a secret was
far from pleasant; but she consoled herself
thinking how it would all end. For the first
time since she knew him she was glad to have
Robert go, 8o eager was she to be. free to
plan, perhaps to write, her story. Her usual
duties about the house were faithfully per
formed but the outline of a romance was
flitting through her head all the time, and
she was glad when free at last to sit down
to her desk.
3[ For an hour her pencil flew busily ideas
thronged at her bidding words came freely
'to express them. The first sentence only
‘troubled her. Five or six beginnings were
‘made only to be scored out; this seemed too
iformal. that too abrupt, another too senti
'mental.. She feared she must resort to the
charming formular, ‘‘once upon time.” But
the right words came at last, and then all
went on bravely, till a neighbor came in,
and the already beloved heroine bad to be
exchanged for Robert’s afghan and every
day chat. Then came other interruptions
and duties ;no more writing that day. The
Eromised attempt ata nap occurred about
alf an hour before Robert’s return, havin
been entirely forgotten till then; and thougfi
Annie lay on the sofa with her eyes con
sciously closed, for fully fifteen minutes,
her thoufihts were on her heroine all the
time, and once she sat up and made pencil
memoranda on the back of a letter, hastifiy
Bocketed as her husband’s step was heard.
y the second night her plot was fully
sketched in her mind, and it only remained
to put it upon paper. Sometimes a whole
day would pass, and not a moment could
she find for writing, though exactly in the
mood for it. Again, she would have leisure,
but an almost unconquerable aversion to her
pen; and if she tried to rally her powers ’bdy
reading what was already written, it sound
ed like arrant nonsense: certainly no sane
editor would accept it. The na.t.{ve ersis
tency of her character, however, enab};d her
to finish her task, jn defiance of many inter
ruptions and discouragements, and the
rough draft of her stox;y was completed in
two weeks. It was a funny looking ffair,
CONCORD, N. H.,, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1871.
‘on no less than twenty-three pieces of pa
per—half sheets and whole sheets, backs of
envelopes and concert programmes; white,
‘brown, and tinted paper; some in pencil,
some in ink—a most disreputable mediey
but she was a happy little woman, as she
scrawled the last line, straightened her
cramped shoulders, pusbed her hair back
from herflushed cheeks, and whispered,
“Done at last!” A timely term of bad
weather gave her leisure to copy it ;l)rompt
ly. Sheinew enough to be carefully legi
ble, and to write on oxly one side of her pa
per, but was profoundlyignorant of the prop
er length of a magazine article. In order
to make some estimate, she read first her
own MS., then a monthly installment of
*“The Woman's Kingdom,” and finding the
time occupied was about the same, began
her copying hopefully. Three days more,
and this tedious work was done. She was
arranging .her neat pages, when Robert's
step was heard on the piazza. She nervous
ly crushed the MS. into her port-folio, and
was Just turning the key as her hushand en
tered, but looking so guilty and confused
that he exclaimed
*‘How scared you look, Annie! Did you
take me for a burglar
“Oh no, but aren’t you early There’s
no bad news,-is there
«No, no, little woman, nothing of ‘the
kind. Been writing to mother She’ll be
Flad to hear from you. Are you going to
et me read your letter P Annie was in the
closet getting his slippers, so he did not see
her troubled face as she made some evasive
answer, and changed the subject. Robert
referred no more to her writing, and Annie
believed his suspicions were not excited—
that he would think of it. no more. This
was far from being the case, however.
The day before Lawrence sailed, Annie
mailed her precious MS. It was too larEe
to be put into a street box, nor would she
have dreamed of intrusting so sacred a se
cret to anything less imposingly official and
safe than the central office itself. Had not
a dreadful tradition reached her of lighted
matches dropped into the boxes by fiendish
boys? It was not pleasant to go down
State street alone. ghe hoped she should
not meet any one she knew—Robert least
of all. Fortunately his office was safely re
mote in Pemberton Square. At last she gained
her destination, pushed by the crowd, flush
ed from being stared at, breathing fast with
hurry and excitement, but quite resolute,
and with a sort of vague belief that she was
more likely to succeed in her plan because
it was painful in execution. In her igno
rance of postal law, and her fear lest some
harm might befall her MS. she had wrapped,
tied and sealed it with comical security,
thereby doubling its weight. She was some
what surprised to be charged thirty-six cents
postage but had you told her to cut open
the ends, label it ‘‘Author’s MS.,” and put on
a couple of two-cent stamps, she would have
been shocked by the insecurity and publicity
of such a method. In her anxiety to make
the address legible she had printed it so that
«“Editors of Magazine,” etc.,"might have
been read across the .street. Inclosed with
the story was a note asking the editors to
accept Stella’s Summer by the Sea,” and
address reply to ‘Mrs. Cynthia Sullivan,
Brookline, Massachusetts.” This elegant
nom de pluwe had been adopted, after many
days of deliberation, for two sage reasons:
*‘Cynthia” was so uncommen there would be
small probability of its bein% borne by any
one else, while the common Irish ¢‘Sullivan”
might induce the postmaster to suppose,
when she called for a letter, that she inquir
ed in behalf of her cook. She could not but
laugh at the sagavi? and ugliness of the
combination. Her darling was now fairly
committed to the rude world. She fels like
a woman on the mariiage of an only daugh
ter, as she hurried away, frightened, proud,
hopeful, and was soon homeward bound in
a brown car. Ah! Annie, you little knew
that your husband’s eyes were on you as you
flitted through that crowd that his evil gen
ius was whispering that Tom Lawrence’s
office was on State street, whence you came
with that agitated look! All the evening he
expected to hear his wife mention her trip
to the city but having had but the one se
cret errand, she made no allusion toit, and,
of course, her silence confirmed his fears o
something to conceal, and was laid awag' in
his memory, with many another little
mystery, to be brooded over in solitude.
Annie was naturally so entirely ingenuous
and confiding that it was impossible she
should have secret occupations without be
traying the fact in a hundxed little ways,
ang her husband having—unfortunately for
both—a suspicious and jealous disposition,
had heen tormenting himself all this time in
silence, and giving a dozen morbid interpre
tations of the pre-occupation, the changes of
color, the willingness to be alone, the reluc-
tance to account for her time, and the lock
ed desk—all of which he had noticed since
the Lawrences decided to go abroad. Yes,
he had been keen enough to date the change
correctly, but his unhappy temper led him
to argue thence in a sadly unjust manner.
In his defense, let it be known that his child
hood had been a warped and unhappy one;
that until he met Annie, he had been a lone
ly, almost a misanthropical man, who hav
ing contended long against poverty, injustice,
and repeated loss, had acquired a certain
cynicism, a want of faith in others’ sincerity
or his own success. Brighter days, truer
friends and Apnie’s love had done much to
free him from these chains, but the tendancy
was still there. In an evil hour he remem
bered that Tom Lawrence had once been a
suitor for Annie’s hand,and fancied that per
haps she now regretted her choice. Was
not Tom rich and successful, and a far
more genial and lovable man than he?
‘This demon of jealousy, once admitted, was
‘not_easily exorcised; and though Robert
struggled against it, and sometimes banish
ed it for days, it would return and torment
him, till even Annie’s caresses seemed but
indications that she was acting a part, try
ing, from a sense of duty, to love him.
With such a fire within, no wonder his
moods were fitful—his manner now strangely
harsh, now mournfully tender. Sweet-tem
pered Annie ascribed it all to the cares of
business, dull weather and east winds fear
ed he was dyspeptic, and strove with forty
sunbeam power to charm him into sevenity.
As days went on she had her own inward
anxiety to bear, for no reply came from the
editors. Every other day she inquired at
the post-office for *‘Cynthia Sullivan,” but
without success, till, at last, during the third
week of suspense, an envelope bearing that
graceful name was actually handed out to
her. Well was it that the postmaster was
boxed in behind a high wooden barrier, or
he must have observed Mrs. Dana’s strange
agitation over her cook’s letter. She lost all
sense of the ground beneath her feet as she
hurried through the village, and out on a by
road, where, seated in a gap of the wall, be
hind a tangle of clematis vines and barberry
bushes, she read, through happy tears, these
beautiful words
Mgrs. CYNTHIA SULLIVAN,
Dear Madam,—Your MS., Stella’s Sum
mer by the Sea,’ is accepted for Maga
zine, and we herewith inclose for it our
check for forty-seven dollars and fifty cents.
Yours, ete.” 3
There was the cvisp, orange lettered
check, the more than realization of her wild
est hopes She felt that these editors were
her dearest friends, and longed to do some
thing to express hex;(%'ratitu e to them. It
was almost too good to be true! and, as
she walked happily home, one hand in her
pocket clasping the wonderful letter, she
feared she should wake and find it all a
dream. Goiniin, she found on the table
her husband's hat and an unopened letter,
with a Liverpool postmark,addressed to her
in Tom Lawrence’s well-known hand-writ
ing. Of course it was from Carry; she
never would direct her own letters. But
where was Robert She went through par
lor and sitting-room seeking him, tearing
open the letter meanwhile. Not finding
him, she was about going up stairs, but, re
membering the precious check in her pock
et, turned back smiling happily as she re
called its contents, and locked it safely in
her desk, quite behind the bay window cur
tains. Yes, he had seen her come in, more
joyously than for weeks past, with Tom's
letter open in her hand seen her look eare
fully about the rooms, hastily secrete a bil
let in her desk, and pocket the key. She
never used to lock that desk, or have any
secrets. To be sure, she showed him her
letter afterward, but that was from Carry;
the inclosure, so earefully hidden, was
doubtless from Tom. And yet, while all
his worst fears were thus revived, Annie's
eyes were 50 pure and true, her manner 8o
loving and happy, he could not doubt her
long. Aftera nizkt of reflection he resolv-
ed that if she had a secret it could not be
an unworthy one; he would trust her and
respect it. If her heart ever did regret its
choice, he would win her back by patient
tenderness; for he well knew that if ever
man had a guardian angel, his little wit‘el
was his.
Now followed many happy weeks, during
which Annie showed no absence of mind,
made no mysterious journeys, received no
private letters. Robert’s resolutions were
easily kept, and he almost forgot the pertur
bations of the summer. Coming home by
an earlier train than usual one frosty eve
ning in November, as he turned up the hill
from the station he saw his wife, a few rods
before him, coming from the post-oftice with
a letter in her hand. She went slowly
homeward, reading as she walked, too much
absorbed to hear him behind her. What
can interest her so?” he wondered. Just
then the envelope, a common yellow one,
fell from her hand and fluttered down the
icy path toward him. He picked it up, in
tending to laugh at her carelessness, but one
glance at the address drove all color trom
his face. Mrs. Cynthia Sallivan,” in a
strange, masculine hand. For a moment
Robert stood still; the November night
seemed close, dark and celd around him
with a chill that penetrated to his heart.
Looking up at last, he saw his wife’s light
figure for an instant on top of the hill clear
ly traced against the lowering Sk(f" then it
turned into their own avenue and disappear
ed. Sintram-like the husband stood listen
ing to the demon within him. Every half
forgotten mystery rose as an accusation
against poor Annie, carrying all good reso
lutions away like a flood. A secret cor
respondence A feigned name What could
it all mean Crushing the hateful envelope
in his hand, he strode fiercely on, determin
ed to show it to her and demand to be told
all. He reached his gate just as Annie en
tered the house. The light from within
%leamed down the path a moment, then the
oor closed, and all was dark and cold.
She does well,” muttered Robert, bitter
ly: ¢“she shut- me out of her confidence
long afo.”
Suddenly the door re-opened. Annie
came quickly qut and down the avenue tow
ards him. Does she see him? Oh no! She
is searching for the lost envelope. Her hus
band drew back into the shadow of the
hedge, watching, unseen, her flurried mo~l
tions.
What shall I do?” she exclaimed, in al
low, troubled tone, close beside him.
His jealous mood swept over him like a
wave: he stepped suddenly out before her
saying, in a cold, hard voice, as he thrust
forward the envelope,
Perhaps this is what you have lost!”
His unexpected appearance, passionate
gesture and rude tone gave Annie a terrible
shock. Starting backward, catching her
breath with a gasp of fright and pain, she
lost her footing on the icy slope, and fell
down an embankment of several feet to the
carriage drive below. Terrified and re
morseful, Robert was beside her instantly,
only to find her lying white and silent, on
her side, her left arm broken under her.
Neither of them ever knew very clearly
what happened during the next half hour.
Robert took his wife into the house. The
doctor came, set her arm, prescribed for a
disposition to fever, and ordered entire
quiet. Annie scarcely spoke. The doctor
was surprised to se¢ one 8o usually bright
and brave now apparently entirely subdued
by pain. How could the good man know
that the husband, whose loving concern was
shown in every lcok and movement, had
been the cause of the accident and of the‘
mental distress, beside which the physical
pain was nothing? Annie had been perfect-%
ly aware of her husband’s state of mind
when he sprang out upon her. She knew
that he suspected her of something wrong;
that he was angry; had prejudged her
cruelly. With all her sweetness of temper
and warmth of heart, she had a good share
of personal dignity and womanly pride;
and to be condemned unheard, on a mere
mystery of appearance, was more tban she
could well brook. She was too much hurt
to offer any explanation. How could she
when he had asked none? No; she lay per
fectly still, submitting passively to all they
did. Rebert was more wretched than she,
for he felt guilty. The white patience of his
wife’s face, her silence, and the bandaged
arm across her breast, reproached him hor
ribly. He showed the doctor out, and re
turned to the chamber. Annie did not look
up. Martha, the cook, who was very fond
of her young mistress, was sitting beside
her.
¢lf you please, Mr. Dana, I'll stay with
her while you have your tea. It’s all ready
below, sir.”
Aunie did not speak, so he went down and
made a forlorn attempt at a meal. How
empty the room was without its queen!
how utterly desolate! He kept trying to
think what he had said in that wild moment
at the gate. He knew he had called her by
every loving name while he was bringing
her in, but he could not remember that she
had returned oune kiss, one loving word.
She had only said, Take care, Robert; it
is broken and afterward, Don’t mind, it
does not hurt much but her eyes had been
averted, and her voice had a repressed tone
that he had never heard in it before. By
and-by he went back, sending Martha away.
Annie’s eyes were shut, but he felt sure she
was not sleeping. Her cheeks were bright
ly flushed, her breathing rapid.
She is as unhappy as I am,” thought
Robert. How can she have the perfectre
pose the doctor ordered till we understand
each other and are reconciled? This silence
is killing us both. Somebody must speak
first. Itis she who is in the wrong, surely
it is; and yet why cannot I look at her and
believe it Why do I feel myself the guilty
one
He leaned over his wife and studied her
sweet face eagerly, as these thoughts agitat
‘ed him. She felt him near, and yet how dis
tant! Hot tears sprang to her closed eyes,
‘hung on the thick lashes,ran over her burn
ing cheeks, but she dared not look up. Pride
‘was afraid of giving way. Robert saw her
lip tremble, her tears fall, and he broke
~down.
Oh, Annie, m§ wife, speak to me! look
‘at me! I am afraid I have been harsh and
‘cruel to you; but why, why do you have a
secret from me
Wide open,honest, fearless were her eyes,
then.
*‘Robert! Robert! it was no harm. Could
you not trust me But I will tell you every
i thing. I never will have another secret. I
hated myself all the time. But it was only
la story for a surprise; and I am so glad
'that I need not be sly any more And then
'she burst into such wild sobbing and erying
‘that Robert was fairly frightened.
He had never seen her beyond her self
control before, and, like all usually quiet
and serene persons, her giving way was en
‘tire, and most distressing. It was a long
‘time before she could tell her story coher
‘ently. In vain Robert begged her to wait
till morning, assuring her that he was per
fectly satistied. She felt assured she could
‘not sleep till every cloud was cleared away
80 at last interrupted by her own tears or
laughter, by his tender caresses and self
reproaches—the whole history of the manu
script, the table aud letters was told. How
the husband felt, as every link in the chain
proved her so tender and true, cannot be de
scribed. Suffice it to say thut he, in his
turn, laid bare all his heart before her, and
that upon these hours of suffering and con
fession, of humiliation and joy, their mutu
al confidence and love were rebuilt upon a
tried and perfected -foundation. The next
morning a reply was mailed to the editor’s
letter, the innocent cause of the trouble. It
contained merely a request for permission to
alter the name of Mrs. Sullivan’s story;
and, with Annie’s acquiescence the corres
pondence ceased, and Mrs. Cynthia Sulli
van” was known no more in the literary
world.
A few weeks later, on the evening be
fore Robert’s birthday, his wife failed to
meet him at the door on his return from
the city, but in the parlor he found her,
blushing and radiant, sitting at the dear old
chess table, trying in vain to keeE the tra
ditional look of absorption in her game.
The only drawback to the correctness of the
picture was the sling in which she was still
obliged to carry her arm. Perhaps it was
this which sent the rare tears to her hus
band’s eyes as he kneeled beside her and
held her close to his heart.
Thus the quaint old Chinese table became
one of the most cherished of their house
hold gods, the companion of many a cozy
winter eveninF, the silent preacher to Rob
ert against all impatience and suspicion—
to Annie against any concealment or disin-
genuousness. When February’s magazine
was published, Annie was entirely strong
again, and she enjoyed to the full the long
desired pleasure of hearing her story read
and praised by the voice dearer to her than
all the world beside.—Harper's Weekly.
General Miscellany.
Writtenfor The People.
FLIGHT OF WILD GEESE.
While through this bleak November day,
We’ve heard the cry of crow and jay,
Far sweeter sounds have come to me
From out the shoreless, upper sea.
The air is chill and flecked with snow,
Wktich, drifting in the gales that blow,
Spreads, far and wide, a vesture meet,
For earth a robe, and winding sheet.
But in the luil of wind and rain—
The crow’s lament—the jay’s refrain,—
Upon my ear has fall’n the ery,
Of wild geese voy’ging through the sky.
While list’nini to the lonesome wail
That tinkled through the sleet and hail,
How quick again returned the s]inell
It o’er me threw, when first it fell!
It seems scarce more than Xesberday.
Since children—at our children’s play,
We heard the mellow, flute-hke sound
Descend in ripples to the ground.
How watch’d we with our wondering eyes
The knotted thread drawn through the skies,—
How anxiously, and half in fear,
We saw it, quiv’ring, disappear!
x
Years by decades have passed away,
Since, with the children at their play,
We heard the cry and caught the sight
Of wild geese in their southward flight,
Be mine the joy, pure, undefiled,
Through life to feel, as when a child,
E’en as to-day, when blest my eyes,
The flight of wild geese through the skies.
Ludlow, Vt. Nov. 9, 1871. C. A M.
LOVE AND DELUSION.
A Chapter on Husband=Choosing.
[From the Baltimore Sun.]
“When a girl marries, why do people
talk of her choice? In ninety-nine cases
out of a hundred has she any choice Does
not the man (probably the last she would
have chosen) select her P
A very clever correspondent has sent us a
letter containing this query; and she makes
out her case ably. She says: I have been
married many years; the match was con
sidered a very good one, suitable in every
respect—age, position and fortune. Every
one said I had made a good choice. Why,
my dear Mr. Editor, floved mfl husband
when I married him because he had by un
wearied assiduity succeeded in gaining my
affections but had choice been my privilege,
I certainly should not have chosen him. As
I look at him in his easy chair, a huge dog
at his feet, a pipe peeping out of one of the
many pockets of his shoc.ing-coat, I can but
think how different he is from one I would
have chosen.. My first penchant wasfor a
fashionable clergyman, a perfect Adonis;
he was a flatterer, and he cared but little for
me, though I have not yet forgotten the
pang of his desertion. My next was a bar
rister, a strong man of immense talent,
smooth, insinuating manners; but he, too,
after talking, walking, dancing and flirting,
left me in the lurch. ~Either of these would
have been my ‘choice,” had I so chosen but
my present husband chose me, and therefore
I married him; and this, I cannot help
thinking, must be the way with half the
married folks of my acquaintance.”
There is both sound sense and truth; but
is it not better that men should choose than
that they should be chosen? And isnot our
correspondent much happier with her present
husband, shooting-jacket, pipe and dog, in
clusive, than she would have been with
either the fashionable clergyman, or the
clever barrister Men are proverbially in
constant, and after maraiage, when the
trouble and inconvenience of children are
beginning to be felt, and, when (the most
trying time of all) the wife begins to neglect
her husband for her children, unless there
was eriginally a very strong attachment on
the husband’s side, there is little chance for
happiness. A wife’s affection, on the con
trary, always increases after marriage; and
even 1f she were indifferent before, no
well disposed woman can help loving the
father of her children, Children on her side
are a bond ofunion, and though she may
appear, for them, to neglect some of those
little attentions which men naturally seem to
expect, it is only because the child is the
more helpless being the two; and the
true woman always takes the side of those
who are most feeble.
It is a strange but meloncholy fact that
when young girls fancy themselves in love,
they are seldom, if ever, happy if they mar
ry the object of their choice. The fact is,
in most cases they find the husband they
have chosen quite a different person as an
individual from the imaginary object he had
appeared as a lover. The imagination in
most girls is stronger than the judgment,
and as soon as the first idea of love is
awakened in a female heart, the imagina
tion is set to work to fancy a lover, and all
possible and impossible perfections are as
sembled together in the young girl's mind
to endow the object of her secret idolatry.
The first man whose appearance and man
ners attract a girl on her entrance into soci
ety is generally invested by her with the
halo of these secret thoughts, and she fan
cies herself violently in love, without the
least knowledge of the man she supposes
herself in love with. No wonder, then,
that if she marries she is miserable. The
object of her love has vanished, never to
return, and she finds herself chained for
life to a man she detests, because she=-fan
cies she has been deceived in him.
On the otherhand the man who, with very
pardonable vanity, fancied himself loved for
his own merits, and who was perfectly un
conscious of the secret delusions of the girl,
becomes, when he finds her changed after
marriage, quite -indignant at her caprice.
The friends and relations on both sides
share in the same feelings—‘‘what would
she have they ecry—‘‘she married for love,
and see the consequence.”
The consequences are, indeed, in such
cases, generally sad enough. When the first
delusion is dissipated, and the truth, in all
its hard and stern reality, comes around it,
both parties feel indignant at the false posi
tion in which they find themselves. Mutual
recriminations take place, each accusing the
other of deceit and ingratitude, while the
apparent iojustice of these accusations,
which is felt by each party alternately, first
wounds the feelings, and then, if repea‘ed,
rankles in the wound and becomes incura
ble.
PRESIDENT PORTER'S PRINCIPLES.
President Porter, of Yale, gave the follow
ing advive to the students of that institution
the other day: “Young men, you are the
architects of your own fortune. Rely upon
your own strength of body and soul. Take
for your star, self-reliance, faith, honesty,
and industry. Inscribe on your banner,
*Luck is a fool, pluck is a hero.” Don’t
take too much advice—keep at your helm
and steer your own ship, and remember that
the great art of commanding is to take a fair
share of the work. Don't practice too much
humanity. Think well of yourself. Strike
ont. Assume your own position. Pat pota
toes in a cart, over a rough road, and the
small ones go to the bottom. Rise above
the envious and jealous. Fire above the
mark you intend to hit. Energy, invincible
determination, with a right motive, are the
levers that move the world. Don’t drink.
Don’t chew. Don’t smoke. Don’t swear.
Don’t deccive.. Don’t read novels. Don’
marry until vou can support a wife. Be
in earnest. Be self-reliant. Be generous.
Becivil. Read the papers. Advertise your
business. Make money, and do good with
it. Love your God and fellow-man. Love
truth and virtue. Love your country and
obey its laws.” If this advice is implicitly
followed by the young men of the country,
the millenium is near at hand.
Making dwarfs and beggars is a common
busines in China. For the first, a child of
three or four years is taken and a heavy por
celain vase is put over him, 8o that the head
alone is free. This is taken off every even
ing so that he may sleep, but is put on again
in the morning. The child thus advances in
age in this inflexible mould, until he can no
longer grow. Then the vase is broken.
The horrible sufferings that must be experi
enced in this process are even exceeded by
the practices in certain establishments in
Pekin, where beggars voluntarily submit to
having their eyes taken out and their limbs
:)iroken in order to excite public commisera
on.
NUMBER 22.
WHAT CONSTITUTES HORSE-POWER.
The term “‘horse-power” is a unit of force,
introduced by Watt to cnable him to deter
mine what size of engine to send to his cus
tomers to superscde the number of horses
which the new poswer, steam,was to replace.
Watt, in order to determine this, visited one
of the London breweries, whose horses were
renowned for their strength, and ascertained
that the average force exerted by the strong-'
est porse was to raise 383,000 lbs. one foot
high in a minute; thus an engine of 200
horse power would be a force equal to that
of 200 horses, each lifting 33,000 lbs. one
foot high per minute. Watt had two meth
ods of comparing his engines—uviz., by the
power and by the duty. By the power is
meant the quantity of work which an en
§ine can effect in a given time; by the duty
s meant the quantity of work which it can
effect by a given expenditure of fuel. Now
it is evident that without any change in the
size of an engine, its power can be increased
simply by increasing the pressure of steam
—that is, the load remaining constant, the
speed of the piston may be increased, the
number of strokes may be increased, and
consequently, the work done per minute will
be larger. Hence, it is difficult to apply a
a limit to the power obtainable from the
smallest cylinder, provided the boiler be
large enough to evaporate the increased
quantity of water, and strong enough to re
sist the increased bursting pressure. In fact,
no size cylinder can be reckoned as having
a particular power, since the power depends
not on size so much as on strength, and thus
engines rated as 50-horse power can often
be run at much greater power.
Nevertheless, in modern engineering, the
term horse-power” refers rather to the size
of the cylinder than to the power exerted,
and the value of the unit has undergone
many changes, so that in an engine to-day,
a horse-power may imply 52,000 Ilbs., or
60,000 Ibs., or 66,000 Ibs., one foot high per
minute. The plan now adopted for ascer
taining the performances of different engines
is by an instrument called an indicator. This
consists of a small cylinder fitted with a pis
ton, which is pressed down by a spring. By
the hight to which this piston rises against
the spring, the pressure within the cylinder
of the engine is indicated and the number
of pounds pressure on the square inch mul
tiplied into the number of square inches in
the area of the cylinder, and by the number
of square inches in the area of the cylinder,
and by the number of feet traveled through
by the piston per minute, gives the impelling
power; deduct in large engines about one
tenth for friction, and the remainder is the
efficient moving power, which divided by
33,000, gives the actual horse power.—Bos
ton Commercial Bulletin.
THE MORNING STAR.
Venus is at her brightest now, and is a
brilliant object in the eastern sky before the
dawn. We had the good fortune to catch
a glimpse of the starry queen yesterday,
just as the stars were paling in the morning
light.
gA charming sight it was to behold the
fairest of the stars hanging in the sky like a
golden lamp, whose beams came to our eyes
through the intricate net-work of the brown!
branches of the elms, shorn of their last
leaves by the recent storm.
The star was alone in her glory, and as
‘we watched her, she took on as many phas
es as a chameleon, now hanging like a lamp
suspended by golden chains, now gleaming
like a diamond, now tinged with the chang
‘ing hues of the opal, and now appearing
like a brilliant sapphire.
We never saw a more beautiful view of
the planet than the one;we haveattempted to
describe. She took on the aspect of a young
moon rather than that of a star, and the
sight of her lovely face is well worthy the
trouble which is needed to obtain it.
The planet Venas is now passing from
her inferior to her superior conjunction.
During this period, commencing on the 26th
of last September and continuing for 292
days, she is on the west side of the sun,
rises before him, and is our morning star.
On the Ist of Novemnber she reached her
point of greatest brilliancy, and on the 6th
of December she will reach her greatest
elongation, or greatest apparent distance
from the sun. Those, therefore, who wish
to see the morning star under the most fav
orable circumstances, must improve the
present opportunity.— Providence Journal.
THE CAMEL'S HUMP.
Modern research has determined a curious
circumstance of an organie- contrivance in
the camel and leech, unlike as they are in
structure, functions and habits, which has
reference to supplying them with food from
storehouses in their own bodies till supplies
are attainable from other sources.
The hump is an immense collection of fat
stored in reticulated cells piled one upon
another, which is concentrated food. When
fodder cannot be had, as frequently occurs
on their long caravan travels in the desert,a
pecualiar set of absorbent vessels draw upon
the magazine—the hump—carrying the fat
into circulation till food from without puts a
stop to the draft on the back. The hump is
very sensibly diminished at times—even be
ing almost completely leveled, but that
which was thus borrowed to sustain life
temporarily is immediately replaced when
the stomach is set in motion again in its ac
customed manner.
The medical leech or bloodsucker, low as
it is in the organic scale of life, is as care
fully providefi for in regard to the contin
gencies of life as the king of the country.
As the blood passes down the gullet of
‘the leech the current divides right and
left to enter two lateral tubes, instead of en
tering directly into the stomach. These ca
‘nals are folded zigzag, backward and for
‘ward in loops, as it were, from the head to
the tail. When perfectly filled the leech
lets go its hold. It is then plump and full,
with a stock of food on hand that may ordi
narily last from one to two years, in case it
has no opportunity to take in anotherin that
long time.
BILL OF FARE AT THE NEW HAMP
SHIRE STATE-PRISON.
Sunday—Breakfast—baked beans, brown
bread and coffee. Supper—rice pudding,
brown bread and coffee,
Monday—Dßreakfast— flour bread, brown
bread and coffee. Dinner—corned beef,
vegetables and brown bread. Supper—flour
bread, molasses and coffee.
Tuesday—Dßreakfast—corned beef, warm
brown bread and coffee. Dinner--codfish,
potatoes and brown bread. Supper—tflour
bread, molasses and coffee.
Wednesday—Breakfast—fish hash, brown
bread and coffee. Dinner—fiesh beef soup
with vegetables, and brown bread. Supper
—flour bread, molasses and coffee.
Friday—Breakfast meat hash, warm
brown bread and coffee. Dinner—baked
fresh fish or chowder, potatoes and brown
bread. Supper—flour bread, molasses and
coffee.
Saturday—Breakfast—meat hash, brown
bread and coffee. Dinner—fresh beef soup
with vegetables, brown bread, molasses and
coffee.
THE MYSTERIES OF A HAIR-BRUSH.
A writer in the American Journal of Mi
croscopy has been exploring the forests of
bristles in a hair-brush surreptitiously pur
loined from a lady’s toilet stand, and,
though it contained nothing which we are
accustomed to regard with unqualified hor
ror, the results of his investigations prove
that there are mysteries ordinarily undream
ed of in this simple appliance of the toilet.
There are concealed in the damp lint of hair
brushes, unless kept clean by the use of bi
carbonate of potassa or carbonate of soda,
many living things, too small for detection
by the naked eye, some of which we are
told are of more than suspicious character,
being known as the originators of scald
head and other diseases of the scalp.
The author concludes his article by a cau
tion against wetting the head, recommend
ing dry brushing instead. e also recom
mends the use of a weak solution of carbol-
ic acid, or sulphite of sodd, as a cleansing
material for hair-brushes. 1
Emproyment. This is one of the happiest
pieces of nursury jingle from Christina Ros
setti, in the last Old and New
What does the bee do?
Brinfi home honey.
And what does father do
Bring home money.
And what does motherdo?
Lay out the money.
And what does baby do?
Eatup the honey.”
THE WISCONSIN FIRES.
Losses of Life and Property.
Mr. F. A. Moure (formerly of Mauches
ter), who has traveled through the burnt re
gions of Wisconsin, thus gives, in the Mil
waukee Wisconsin, the loss of life and prop
erty in the country through which he pass
ed:—
After making deduction of exaggera
tions, I had supposed that five hundred
would cover the number of dead on the west
side of the bay. I now learn from reliable
sources that the actual number of interments
up to Monday night counted up to five hun
dred and four. Add another hundred for
remains of ashes and charred bones at Pesh
tigo, and I think we have not far from the
true number on the west side. Add one
hundred and fifty for the east side—making
seven hundred and fifty in all—and the death
roll is nearly complete.
It is impossible to figure the aggregate
losses of pine timber and farm property
with any degree of closeness. It is the in
terest of mill men to underrate the amount
of fallen pine that must be secured this win
ter to save it. A medium estimate of dam
age to pine lands in the Green bay region is
$400,000. The damage on the Wolf is fig
ured at $300,000. There is abundance of
hard wood left in places; the damage to in
dividuals may amount to $300,000. The
loss of the fifteen sawmills burned is put at
$225,000. The loss of cordwood, ties, hem
lock bark, ete., is set at $200,000. The loss
es of fences, buildings,wagons, cattle, crops,
among the six hundred farmers, cannot be
less than $600,000; making a total aggre
gate of more than $3,000,000, aside from
those at Peshtigo.
There are three hundred or more woun
ded sufferers remaining in hotels, boarding
houses and hospitals about the bay. Fifty
of the Peshtigo sufferers were at the Dunlap
house, Marinette. Half of them were able
to be about. Burned cars, faces, hands and
feet were common to nearly all. Many in
rooms could hardly stir in bed. There were
women with great burns on the sides and
limbs,with faces like kettles and hands like
claws, burned to the bones. Men could
gfht better and dare more than women.
ost of them perished by suffoca
tion. Little children are sadly maimed in
their feet and faces. I saw one with a heel
gone, and another with an eye. Nearly all
will recover without loss of sight or limb.
I could fill a book with stories of the hospi
tal. Most of them suffer more from hurts
of mind than body. Ihave a sad memory
of a poor widow who lost her crippled boy
'who went on_crutches, and a sprightly-little
girl who fell between the burning logs.
They were all of her family. The screams
of both,’ she said, ‘seemed forever sounding
in in my ears.” There is a future, and no
'doubt compensation for all these suffering
ones.
““Most of the cabins that are left are
crowded with two and three families each.
I saw one with four men, five women and
sixteen children two of them suckling.
They had just received an outfit of clothing
—warm hoods, thin shawls, thin gaiters,and
light-colored dresses for the women and
girls; old-fashioned hats, boots, thin jackets
and summer coats and pants for the men and
boys. -There were some occasions of laugh
ter, but none of ridicule; all were glad and
surprised at getting what they did. I saw
no immediate want of provisions. Flour,
pork, and hard bread are distributed to all,
packages of tea and coffee to most. There
are nearly potatoes enough in the country,
if distributed. The stock that is left has
been driven off to meadows and fields not
burned over. Ome large-hearted old farm
er was keeping eighty odd cattle belongiag
to his neighbors. Without stopping to con
sider the ways of Providence or the uses of
philosophy, these simple-minded people
seem to have understood the art of helping
one another.”
““PUNCH” ON CHICAGO.
Says Punch: We suppose that the most
costly pail of milk ever heard of in the
world was the pail which burned Chicago.
The gallant Americans are the last people
to ery over spilled milk or burnt cities. Chi
cago will quickly be Rediviva. She has
very likely accepted the omen that she will
soon be flowing again with milk—and honpey
—has elected, in her cheery way, to call
herself the Cow City. Therefcre, Bull,
evince the affection of a relative, show that
you have what Benedick calls an Amiable
Low” (needless to say that we do not allude
to any keeper of the public purse), and that
you come of the stock of the Golden Bull.
With which sweet, choice, and dainty con
ceits to lighten the way, let the pensive
public be off to the Mansion House with
their help for the homeless by Lake Michi
gan. The Americans remembered us in the
days of Ireland’s hunger, and at the cotton
famine,and must now allow us to remember
them. And let's be quick about it, or the
city will be rebuilt before the money gets
there. Right away—this very now,” as
they say.
A most amusing story is told of Judge
B——, now occupying a high position in the
Pennsylvania State Government. Traveling
some years since by rail to Harrisburg, on a
blazing hot day, with some friends, the iron
horse had stopped to water, when suddenly
he drew his white handkerchief from his
pocket, and began waving it vigorously in
the air, at the same time bobbing his head
out of the window in a very energetic man
ner.
What are you bobbing about, Judge
asked Mr. Q., without rising from his seat.
Why, don’t you see yonder? There’s a
lady waving a white handkerchief, and I'm
returning the salute.”
Who is she, Judge asked Q., as he
lounged in one corner.
Well, the fact is, I don’t exactly know;
I'm quite near-sighted and I can’t recognize
her, but she is dressed in gray silk, and
stands yonder, under a big maple tree, near
my friend, John B.’s house.”
Mr. Q. hobbled over to the Judge’s side
and gazed in the direction indicated, but
saw only that the Judge had been exchang
ing salutes for ten minutes with an iron
gray mare, whose long white tail, as it flap
ped away the flies, had been taken by him
for a white handkerchief, waved by a lady
in a gray silk dress.
The buttons that were subsequently pick
ed up in that car are said to have been ex
ceedingly numerous. The Judge didn't
swear, but he changed the subject to saw
mills.
e eb e e
HIBERNIANISMS.
An Irish lover remarked that it was great
comfort to be alone, ‘‘especially when yer
swateheart is wid ye!”
Two good-natured Irishmen, on a certain
occasion, occupied the same bed. In the
morning one of them inquired of the other:
““Dennis, did you hear thunder last noight
*‘No, Pat; did it raily thunder?” ¢‘Yes, it
thundered as if hiven and airth would come
togeather.” “‘Why in the divil thin didn’t
ye wake me, for ye know I can’t slape when
it thunders.”
““There are two ways of doing it,” said
Pat to himself, as he stood musing and wait
ing for a job on the street corner. “If Isave
me S4OOO I must lay up me S2OO a year for
twenty years, or I can put away S2O a year
for two hundred years. Now, which way
will I do it?”
Patrick Maloney, what do you say to
the indictment? Are you guilty or not guil
ty P Arrah, musha, yer worship, how
can I tell till I hear the ividence
e e G e
FLASHES OF WIT.
Peter,” said a mother to her son, ‘‘are
you into them sweetmeats again?” No,
ma'am, the sweetmeats is into me.”
Josh Billings says ‘‘rats originally came
from Norway,and nobody would have cared
if they had originally staid there.” A lady
friend remarks that they show their gnaw
way origin.
A gentleman, learned in the origin of so
cial customs, was asked the meaning of the
custom of casting an old shoe aftera newly
married coui:le as they start on their trip.
He said: To indicate that the chances of
matrimony are very slipper-y.”
A good-natured traveler fell asleep in a
train and was carried far beyond his desti
nation. ‘A pretty good joke this, isn’t it
said he to a fellow passenger. Yes, but a
little too far-fetched,” was the rejoinder.
““Young man,” said a minister to a youth
of his congregation, ‘‘do you know what
relations you sustain in the world Yes,
slr, two cousins and a grandmother, but I
don’tintend to sustain them much longer.”
SPARKS OF WISDOM.
Desire is a tree in leaf; hope is a tree in
flower, and enjoyment is a tree in fruit.
Men are content to be laughed at for their
wit, but not for their folly.
—Be not angry that you cannot make
others as you wish them to be, since you
cannot make yourself what you wish to be.
—This world and the next resemble the
east and the west; you cannot draw near to
one without turning vonr hack on the other.