The Southern watchman. (Athens, Ga.) 1854-1882, March 26, 1878, Image 1
by .(OHN H CHRISTY. VOLUME XXIV. the southern watchman PUULISHBl) EVKItY WEDNESDAY. Office corner of JWW H olt Street*. (up-talre.) ' r A'. JO It A1 *S • rr^xro pgxaT,.AJ33 Select fSgi«i «|. ATHENS, GEORGIA, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. ADVERTISING.’ • 4a*«rti*e;i»cul.< will be li» n-rlwl at ONE DOLLAR f ,r.hTn^iSt'.o,1FIFTY CES’fSpe r «m»wtor«* iur nnv time unrter .mo moult., for loufcrim- rOU!illQAUC42, lor ftuy lilOt rtrtrii' "1 liberal tlc<lu< lion will be made. ^ V. legal advertising. Sh.rilTa J»lo». l» >r «10» ra ”" •; ’" ff " "^oo' “ w «"ASSX^^;iV™or(;»ard'. 1 ,. CM SIX FEET OF EA1 I will relate to 70a now, of this world a And (be many atrange people we 1 From the rich man, who rolls in hie 1 To the poor starving wretch In the a Though a man may be poor, and In tattedthad mgr, We ne'er ahonld affect to dieplaa, ltat think of the adage, and remember 1 That eix feet of earth nuke ae all of c There's the rich man, with thoo£mda to a But be haughtily bolds up hie head Aud thinks he’s above the mechanic » And Is honestly la ,if ho choose, with a potato in one hand and a knife In the other: " “3temove this do . 1 * M Bamovs it is sur,.’ said Milce, dropping both knife and potato. But Hhis dog* clearly objected to .jmiug removed. He skipped uimbly around, bark iug all the time in a ‘ what larks i’manuer, darted under the garden chairs; -got entangled in a woodbine that was olimto ing to the roof of the porch, and it down j ‘seized the knife Miko hacld: ’fti his mouth, and made off wahi the “’^riedy manmaUcg after him >ed on the potato aud came down wifH 9k DEfOTED TO NEWS, POLITICS, AGRI6ULTDR£iJtobcA.TI0N AND GENERAL PROGRESS. $3.00 per Annum, in advance, ©AT, MARCH-26,1878. NUMBER 52. sat; the old maid, idly / _ ' flowing: white wi putt, with a gold-1 side §roSiI the leaii, ‘ling kitten: banging! ‘epoor ilarj;Ann !* site [where, «b, where are". ■M raised lu-ii ki:al eje.V you R nr* nth* YjNX Si* attorney-at-law, HARVOW GROVK % JACKSON C0DST1, GA. Smo.ce, slonwboro. Ga. MATTHEWS & OWEN, 31 Physicians and Apothecaries, .t.-cl, A large ami well selecte. always 01. Imi'J. HOWELL COBB as H. conn. 1. Attorneys at ATaKXS> OA . HoiUllng. fel>23 ly JW^OIllce ill Couple ANDREW J. COBII. ALKX. a. BIIWIN. nHNVlN .V COUl>. Ik Attorneys at Lair, Athens, Ba. office c urlier Broad aud Thomas streets; over tli Vhildi*, Nickerson A: Co. David C. Baruow. Ju. iy Pop* Bahhow. nrm ^ a 11AKKOW I»liOr>. 1) ATTORNEYS AT LAW, . 1 Io.1l- rsrofflee over Talmailge I f'. WOFFOBU. ). Attorney at Law, Homer, Go. 'mated to his care. ui.il—tt Will execute promptly all l.ua: Collecting claims u ffiwejoliy. Araons, Ga. I xMOltV SBK1SU, !i Attomey-at-Law, :r-Offlce, Sos.4 and 5, Court llmiae. dects E pWAlfl) 14. HAlllllCN, (Late Judge l. S. Oourta Nebraska uml Utah, aud now Juflgc of Brooks County i unit,) Attorney at Law, Quitman, Brooks Co., Ga. 1 ~>L.OYl> a S1I.M AN, 1 Attorney: at Law, Will practice iu tli- couutioi* of Walto ami Jackson. J. 11..- II.M AN, Jcffcreou, Ga. L* , O’KKLLEVS Tiso'-ogratk Gallery, Over Snead & Co.’s Shoe otorv. Broad flrei t, Atheus, Gvor- tie. ; js* I 11. HUGGINS, •J • Wholesale axul Retail Dealer in Dry Goods, Groceries, Hardware, Ae. f c b!6 Broad Street, Athena, Ga^ J “AMK8 R. LYLE, Attorney at Law, ■ decsl- WATXIXSriLLK.OA. J OHN M. MATT H KWn, Attorney at Law, Lanielsvlllc, Ga. caret attention will ho given to any business entrusted^ many a cost that Is tsttersd ■ Covers many s brave, manly heart, Bat because hc’ahot dressed like his neighbor In silks Society keeps them apart. On one fortnsc smiles, wnile on the other it frowns. No matter what ventnro he tries, Until time In the end calls both to the grave, And six feet of earth makes both mm of one sine. Now, should ever yon see a poor fellow who tries To battle this world and Its frowns. Let us help him along, perchance he’ll succeed, Don’t crush him and still push him down. For a cup of cold water, In charity given, Is remembered with joy to the skies; We are all hnman beings, we have all got to die, And six feet of earth makes ns all of one size. “ I CAME TO ASK.” Two pretty, old-fashioned cottages stand ing near each other on a secluded tree- shaded country road, separated by a little meadow, which, from the birth of Spring to the death of Autumn, rejoiced in waving green grasses and white daisies and yellow dandelions, and after that wore a robe woven of snow-flakes as fair and pure as when they fell from the skies, until old Winter, to whom the robe belonged, hear ing the’returning birds ask for tho violets, gathered it about him aud vanished again In one of them, the larger, in front of which was a neatly kept lawn, and at tho back a small hoLhonso and miniature veg etable garden, lived Miles Guernsey aud bis man Mike, the oue an old bachelor, the other, as he described himself, “ a widdy man, thanks be to the Lord that sint her rest.” In the other—Rose Cottage they called it, for in : ose.timo it was completely sur rounded by roses; they filled the space in front and clambered over the porch and up the sides of the house—had lived a quiet, elderly pouple for many years, until about a month before my story (it it may be dignified by that title) begius, when they went to heaveu on the very same day, as they had often prayed to, loving old souls, aud left Rose Cottage waiting for new tenants. " " \ ' “Just as I’d got comfortal grumbled Miles Guernsey, “ sot again! Dtbcr ofem™ live till they’re a hundred, these have done so, instead id; 5-qu”-iiQ ai: cking-ehair, \ in a loose st a ruffle or iu her hair J and by lper :,,with a squal- " its mouth, ay iug ; “ but her—” wlieu uet the not Eielor. “Glad she said, holding out er, that Of course she did,” interrupted the master. “ Go on.” “ An’ she prayed wid the poorthiug, an’ closed hec eyes; au’ whin she came away she fetched the young wun with her, an’ ‘they "do say "she's goiu’ to’dopf it, and they’ll niver sphake to her agin.” “ Which would bo a great pity!” said the old bachelor, with emphasis, and rather a diabolical grin. IIIm Dotf nud llw Bride. On Wednesday night a .bridal party boarded the train,.at Elizabeth, N. J., I .leant laughter and weeping, aud I knew that laughter and weeping never wont well together, except at weddings. I saw ttye bridegroom, happy, laughing, fussy as an old hen with her last lone chicken, holding i black and tan deg tenderly iii bis arms, Ind clutching his hride’ by the elbow, to KM?. T “ Well, wo don’t live together; we think as we can’t agree, we’d bettor not.” He stifled a groan, as tho child began again, and darted an exasperated look at her. parents. But the little tdrinout would not be quieted, until she exclaimed : . “ Cah’t agree! Thou why dWt vou fight ' it out, as. pa and ma dot” Y • 3 J v “sir g An’now ! suppose we’ll be, ^ er The brattemau shout- afthor movin’, shure, for it only uaded ' u ' - • tho baby to make it. complate; owld—1 inaq^jMiss Osborue—cats, dogs and ba- •’ Hold on; take.that dog to the baggage ear.” f - . Dismay, cohsteraffitiou, terror, came out -- - - 1 / '-e, but “Vougeance is mine,” laughiiivly ret etl the visitor, after “ pa’V-aml <<% d .auged looks of holy hdrfor, folid' .rite inevitable roar. —New Haven fled bat firmly upon his head, and 1 grasping his cane. Out of his own gate he marched in the most dignified style along the path, through the rose-crowded gar den to the door of Rose Cottage. “ I want to see your mistress,” he said to the black eyed maid-servant who answered his ring. “ Which f” answered the girl. “ What I” retorted Mr. Guernsey. “Oh 11 thought perhaps you didn’t know the old lady is laid up with rheumatic- got cold in moving. Will Miss Osborue do r “ Any body,” said Miles, walking into the parlor, as she threw opeu the door. Evidently Miss Osborue was extremely fond of roses. The white muslin curtains were looped back with sprays of half-open ed ones; a vase filled with them stood on the centre table; ou the hearth lay shells from which they peeped, and a vino that ran up the window outside had been coax ed through a broken pane aud hung, heavy with sweet white buds, over the picture of a handsome young man iu the dress ot a clergyman. The guitar leaned against the arm ot a cozy old-fashioned crimsoned sofa; a hanging shelf of books occupied one corner ot tho room; a mirror, whose tarnished frame was almost hidden by a pretty arrangement of autumn leaves, hung in tho other. “Humph! she’s got some taste,” s lid the old bachelor to him self, autl began, without knowing why, to wish that he was at home—in fact, was meditating au inglorious retreat, when the old maid entered the room. Tall, graceful, with chestnut-brown hair parted simply over a lrnnk umvrinkled brow, and gathered into a silken net at the back of her head; honest gray-blue eyes that looked lull at you; aud arched eyebrows two shades darker than the hair; small, straight nose ; cheeks a little faded, but still throwing out pink roses on occasion; lovely mouth, with the faintest suspicion of a shadow at the corners, which was instantly lost iu a sunshiny smile. “ Oar neighbor, Mr. Guernsey,I believe?” she said, in a remarkably pleasant voice. “ Yes,” replied Mr. Guernsey, blushing ' idea of it! and <>’c bachelor, AMKS I.. AX. U., J 0$U* at Jlr. 7 *11 S'/uNlte* Sti.l *1 H<>}* District, Wad- urijia.) to the citizens oC the sur- aug2T Offers his iirufufeioual oanriiih! country _ K kliah, • tiorni'f at Uu, Franklin, X. €. Practices in all fin* I’onrts of Western North Carolina, and ijiy.- 4>V!o,a! Court*. Chiisrs col’e !.(! in nil ;mru* of the J JVKHV, up16—ly i & Mule Mtuhle, (l\\ A RK YKS, I’rtiji'N, t hens, (<a. sV.ll be found at fhelr old stand, rear Franklin House build- Thoinas street. Keep always on hand go**! turn-outs 4JO careful drivers. Stock well cared for when entrusted to our care. S'uck on hand for sale nt all times. dc€25—tf S AMUICL 1*. THUI13IOND, ttoruej at I.an, tli cun, (•». Office ou Bnwul street, over the store of J. M. Barry—will five s|K't ial atfention to cases iu Bankruptcy. Also, to the coJJfjthj” of ull clninm eutrustorl to his care. \Vholesale and Retail Dealer In ViUTIf s,°- 1,... vinleidlv (thy idea < f it! and old bachelor, hung gli hy couldn’t I foi’IfarvtrW ’rf.uid»injs 1)0-. the c«tta f dvin" at cause an old maid -looked at him!”) and the tree; iyf Poor thing 1 She came to^BF^door one cruel cold night last winter, half starved, and with the tips ol her poor ears frozen off. I took her in, warmed and fed her, aud she wouldn’t go away again. To tell the truuh l didn’t try very hard" to-make her, aud I couldn’t bear to desert’ her when we came here, auy more than I could, Waif. He and she, odd as it may seem ire very fond of each otherv»*’But otfe bad habit, I’m sorry to say, I can’t break her of, or haven’t, as yet—a result ot her ear ly vagaboud file in the streets : she steals.” Then, suddenly noticing a queer expres sion on the face of her listener, she con tinued, eagerly, “ I hope she hasn’t been annoying you iu any way I” t Straight into those still child-like eyes did Miles Guernsey look, and say deliber ately, “ Oh, no, not at all. I came to ask if you—that is” (growing a.Jittle incohe rent,) “your mother—of course I mean both of you—would liko a fresh cucumber or two aud some green peas,” (with a flush ol pride.) “ I’m ahead of all the neigh bors.” He meant the peas were.- “ A thousand thanks,” said Miss Os borue. “Nine hundred and ninery-niue too many,” said Milos, actually smiling at her. “ Good-day.” Aud when he reappeared iu tho study, he had a daisy iu his buttou- hole. Mike came out of the diuing-room, where he had been soothiug the canary with a crisp lettuce leaf. “ Well, sir?” said he. llaug the bird’s cage where the cat can’t reach it, lock up the chops alter this_ aud drown thirteen of the kittens,” quiet ly said Mr. Guernsey. “Mad is itf” Mike soliloquized. “He’s madder nor 50 hatters.” “ Good heavens ! what man in his sober senses,” Miles Guernsey asked himself, “ would hurt a frozen-eared ah t” Summer passed away, carrying with her the fragrant roses aud thousands of other beautiful flowers ; autumn, in richly tjuted rustling garments, gathered ijhe gold’*and brown amLcrunsoa leaves ud bade the Barth tare we d flupg dSwny snow. 7i ' ' persona started AlTh “ Tame fur ye, boss,” said Mike, with an ominous shake ol the head. jittering Staple ami Fancy Hry Goods, Groceries, Ac. Lower end of Broad Street, Athens, Ga. «. THOMPSON, » Auoi-noy at Law, A THU VS GA. Office over the Post Office. Special attention given to crimi nal practice. For reference, apply to Ex-Gov. Thomas H. Watts and Hon. David Clopton, Montgomery, Alabama. fcb3 W.J. HAY, t* Attorney and Counsellor at Law, ... MONROK, GEORGIA. trw in K lve prompt attention to all buaiucM eutrnstod to oi» care. auges—tf T --V. XL.KU. . M A1 CUM A Kl:a A D JK WKLRR, We^t door to Reaves X NkhoUou, Thomas si., Atiucns, Ga. All work wai ranted twelve months. septlS D avenport house, By Mrs. C. S. SIMPSON, "OCCQA CITY, GA. Ample accommodations for the public, and especially Sum mer visitors. Good rooms, excellent fare and reasonable prices. Two miles from Toccoa Falls—nearest house to the Depot. _ mayl 6m JAMES R. LYLE. ALEX. S. ERWIN. Watkinsville. Athens. Attorneys at Xia-w, ILL practice in partnership in the Superior Court of J. B. CHRISTY, STEN0GBAP11IC BGPOUTEB FOE TUI WISTESNG1KCUIT, ■\¥TILL attend Courts aud trials (other tlian Superior Court i and furnish accurate rejK>rts of evidence and repor; ci% A cases iu Superior Courts, on reasonable terms. Will also give instruction iu short-hand writing—Stenography— during the *wwlnn« of »h*» «ovml Court*. Medical Notice. T the solicitation of many of my former patrons, I resumo "the practice of Medicine' from”this date. I desire to pay nsneclal attention to the diseases of INFANTS and CHIL- attention u> the _— _ nkRN, and the CHRONIC DISEASES OF FEMALES. Joue tt. 18T6—junlC WM. KING, M. D. INSURANCE. ISSURE your l'rouerty in Safest & Best Co, 1 LIVERPOOL A LOXDltN * GLOBE IXS. CO. A24,SStS,#84 61,110,876 J. M. BARRY, Agent. Assets.. Claims already paid by tho Co Aug, a. 1376. BOOT & SHOE ESTABLISHMENT. i lot of line dress Boots, which hr f PIIE undersigned has a JL offers for sale at $! rt nor pair, for cash. They are flue . . They French calf skin. For $10 a pair of these boots will be sent *rk \ by mall or express. All work warranted TO RENT, allnocesoary out-i>ull<]iiij^, within livu minutes’ walk at tbs baldness part of the city. Apply st once to mart! W.J. MORTON. HARMONY GROVE CARRIAGE SHOP. METIS am now pnitinu up some of the finest and most dura ble Waeons, Baccies, Ac. We aak an honest inspec- IBfiEll , fioe of oar work end prteea. Repairing of all kmda In oar Une done satisfactorily, and at tbe shortest notice, mar. My ECKLR8 A CROW. Northeastern Hotel, HARMONY GROVE, GA. S’? S0£a03x£0XT SEGAB. taro, oomforUble rooms sod most mmonsble prices. tXPassenffen conveyed to and from Jefferson, or other mar. My the early age ol eighty? And there! no I haring uttored fhis monosyllable, he dropp kuowiug who’ll take the cottage. Some-1 h,s hat and put his cane through t body with cats, dogs and babies. I’ve no crown ot it as he stooped to pick it p doubt—three kinds of animals I detest.” again. The hat m fes hand once mm e, went on: “Iv’e called to see it you—that is, your mother—I mi an both of you oi „„ „ .course. In fact,” with sudden inspiration There was something else Mr. Guernsey „ j came toask y0 u if you would like some insisted he detested, and tout was an old ^ t just out of the wate r yesterday.” maid. (<aman,” he used to say, “don’t « 0 ’ h J ( thauk vou ; you are very kind,” need smiles aud kisses and pet names and Miss Osborne a mtle surprise iu her children hanging around him to keep him vojce and a , )UZZ i e d expression in her eyes; sweet, but a woman does. Of course some da ’ tthat , uoment Mi ke’s rough tones of the poor things can’t help their forlorn brok(j |u from outsklo . state; the man don’t propose, or they do „ Fvp t him> b0SSt aml the devil’s own and run away, or their parents cut “P time I’ve had to kotch him. Bedad, he’s rough, or they have iuvalid relations to I tho liveliest tame dog I iver met iu my take care of. I’m very sorry for them ; I ^ aud ke kas . 1u i t down the other vine they have my heartiest sympathy, but, all I aud „ tho same, I don’t like ’em.” I „ Q 0 od-day,” hurriedly said “ the boss,” And so, when Mike came one lovely June flying before the old maid’s questioning morning to tell his master the cottage was k , okS| a „d spinning off the stoop with such rented, adding, with a sly grin, “ An’ shure impetus as to almost knock down his faith- it’s a ow(d maid and bet mother” Mr. J U 1 retainer. Guernsey said something that be ought I «shut up, you idiot!” he said, iu a to have beep ashamed, aud which, for that hoarse whisper. “ Drop that dog, and go reason, I shan’t set down, and then went home aud fasten the vines up again.” on, sarcastically, “And now we’ll have all « Howly Moses 1” ejaculated Mike, as he sorts ot 4 sweet, cunuiug pets,’ I suppose; dis appeared in a hurry; “ is it mad he is ?” but if any ot them come near my premia- « oh, dear 1” exclaimed tho old maid, es”—luriously—“ I’ll poison ’em, drown ra j s i U g her pretty hands and eyebrows as ’em, wring their uecks. Do you hear, s j ie caught sight ot the 4 fine little follow’s’ Mike?” I dirty paws anil drooping tail, 44 he’s been 44 Faith, I do, said Mike, grimly.” I in some mischief; I’m sure he lias; I saw 44 I’ve lived here ten years,” resumed the your mau. What has ho been doing, Mr. master, 44 in quiet and peace, driven here Guernsey ? In the kindness ot your heart by an old maid in the first place, and it you are screening him; I know you are, Will be hard indeed if I am driven away Oh, Waif 1 Waif! if you wern’t lame, I’d by auothey. With a piano or gditar, no I whip you. I picked him up iu the street doubt?’’ one day, Mr. Guernsey”—the pink roses 44 Aither that last or a fiddle, sir,” said 1 were in full bloom now— 41 where some Mike. 44 1 sor the gujrii a carrym it in yis- wicked boys had left him after breaking his terday in its own uate little coffin.” I leg, took him home and nursed him well “ She’ll play aud sing from morning I again, and tho poor thing became so at- till night, out of time aud tune, and I shall taehed to me I couldn’t bear to leave him be obliged to close all the doors and sufib-1 behind when we left the city. cate.” / I “ Of course not,” said Mr. Guernsey, add- 44 Anyhow,” suggested Mike, “there can’t I ing, rather irrelevantly, “ I don’t wonder be no babies.” at it. Good morning,” A ",i =r. t.h« <.<>- ‘Thank Heaven for that!” said Mr. Guern-1 quaiutance began, sey, ferrently; “Though I don’t knowl What a fool I’ve been !” said Miles, as but what tho guitar’s worse. You can 0 nce more he sat on bis porch, he picked scare youugchildren by making laces at «p his newspaper again; “but, bless me, ’em. When do they move in, Mike F’ who’d want to hurt a lame dog ?” 4 ' To-morrow, sur,” Baid Mike. Och, but I a week passed away, during which Mr. it’s dreadful 1” Guernsey only caught occasional glauces 44 We’U go a-fishing Mike. Be ready to- of his lair neigeb ir, as she came out into morrow morning at daybreak, and we’ll the garden among the roses,-with a plain stay away a week. I never could bear straw hat shading her lace aud tied with the noise women make when they’re put- a bit ot blue ribou under her chin. 44 1 tjng a bouse to rights, as they call it; and always liked blue ribbon,” sighed the old it I can’t stand it alter we come back, bachelor. 44 She used to wear it.” 44 She” why, I’ll pull up stakes aud go for good, was the girt he had loved some twenty that’s all.” years ago, aud from whom he had been 44 Yis, sur,” said Mike. separated by the machinations of his fath When Miles Guernsey and his man re- e r and her maiden aunt, turned from the fishiDg excursion, Miss All was calm and serene, wlieu one morn Osborue aud Miss Osborne’s mother and i U g Mike burst into tho library, where his Miss Osborue’s maid ot all work were in- master sat, aud burst out: stalled iD Bose Cottage, and, sure enough >< Thim lamo chops, sur, the dilicate tin the first sounds that greeted the oars of der ones I mint tor your dinner, they’re tbe fishermen were the pleasant tinkling gone, an’ tbe burrid’s most frightened to of the guitar and an equally pleasant voice death, sur, an’ no liss—or may I niver singing an old-fashioned love-song—not spake another wurrid—than fourteen kit- out of time, however, and decidedly in tens in the wood-shed, an’ all ou ac- tune. . count oi Miss Osborne’s cat, the thale uv Aud the very next day a small dog, the wurrild after sniffing curiously about ou the out- “This certaiuly must be stopped at side for a while, squeezed himself nearly once,”«3aid Mr. Guernsey. 44 Give me my flat, and, crawliug under the front gate, hat, Mike aud away he went, growing frisked gayly over the tiny lawn, and Irom thence up to the porch where sat the lawn’s owner reading the newspaper. The intruder was a bright-eyed little ter rier, slightly lame in one o! his hind legs, and he prooeeded to caper around the old bachelor as though in him he recognized an early but long lost friend. * *■ ■ ---■>• 44 Mike 1” shouted Mr. Guernsey. “Sur!”.shouted Mike, runniong out reels of hesiof !>alv doze * t y, a del- ►xrom whom rer pleasant die handsome p the portrait } fifteen years angrier at every step. Ilis lamb chops and no more to be had until to-morrow- good gracious! And fourteen kittens— gracious goodness 1—to say nothing ot the canary in a fit, perhaps its power of song soared awfc’ torever 1 He actually banged the gate of the gar den of roses ; but his anger, which was up to “butter melts”at least, fell to “zero” when he entered the pretty parlor. There met a dozen times, cimes Miles Guernsey learn (principally Irom icately, sweet-laced woman 1 the daughter had inherited eyes) that the picture of I young man in the parlor w^j of Iiosa’s lover, who had die before in a foreign land, \Vhere lie had gone lor his health. “Rosa was well-nigh broken-hearted at first,” said the old lady; “ but time has softened her grief, and now she can speak ot him as calmly as she can of tho darling little sister who died when she was a child.” From the same source he learned that Rosa’s father had been a speculator, unlucky in all his spec ulations, and that when, his last great dis appointment breaking his heart, lie de parted this life, there was very little left for his widow and children. “ Robert, my ouly son,” said the old lady, 44 helps us all he can ; but lately hehasmarried a sweet girl who has patieutly waited for him five years, and uow Rosa aud I will have to live more economically than ever, if that be possible. But, dear me, how I do run on, and how Rosa would scold mo if she knew it! but you are so kind aud sympa thetic, Mr. Guernsey, that, short as our acquaintance has been, I almost regard you as one of the family. Rosa, my dear, I should like Mr. Guernsey te hear that new song your brother sent you last week.” 44 Aud would Mr. Guernsey like to hear it ?” Rosa asks. 44 How can you ask me ?” says the old bachelor. “ I am always pleased to hear you sing.” By which remark you will perceive he had become entirely reconciled to the guitar. It was the evening of Christmas-day. Miles Guernsey sat alone iu his parlor, thought on his brow and a pipe in his mouth, when Mike entered with a dainty, rose-perfumed, thr<5i£cornered note. 44 From the owld- maid, sur,” said he “Miss Osborne, you , mean,” said bis master, steruly. “ Don’t call her au old maid again.” v -~ “Would Mr. Guernsey”—so the note ran—“give Mrs. and Miss Osborue the pleasure of his company this Christmas oveuiug ? Brother Robert and his wile have coiue down from tho city, and there would be a little music, a little supper, and whist.” “Wait, and I’ll 'write au auswer,” said Mr. Guernsey. And while Mike waited he began to talk again. 44 Shure, ye heart] the news, sir ? The village is full uv it, They say she oughtn’t ’a done it; that it’s incouragiu’ wickedness, au’— 44 Who the dickens are you talking about!” asked his master, turning impa tiently arouud, peu iu baud. 44 The owld—1 maue Miss Osborue, sur,” answered Mike. “ Aud pray \chat shouldn’t she have done?” “Taken Bessie West’s baby, sur.” 44 Taken Bessie West’s baby !” Go ou this moment, Mike, or I’ll brain you with this poker.” 44 Well, you see, sur,” Mike thus admon ished, went ou glibly enough, “ye know that uufortonate story about Bessie West, the party sewin’ jjunfll ?” 44 Yes, yes—Heaven knows I do. Not a woman’s tongue withiu ten miles, ex cept oue, But has wagged about it” ■ , “ Well, sur, last night she died, an’ she pint for the owld—I inane Miss Osborne. For she’waa frighted uv the other womeu, they’d been so hurd to her—bad cess to ’em, arf half hv their own; an’ not knewiu’ what they are cornin’ to; au’ the owld— 1 inane Miss Osborne—wiut—” And, the great coaFoii, away Guernsey for Bose cottage once more., 44 Bedad,” said Mike, with an intoxicated wink, “it’s rneself knew ho wouldn’t shtaud the baby.” Miss Osborne’s parlor was that night, if possible, brighter aud cheerier than it was the summer day the old bachelor first eu tered it. Instead of roses, Christmas green dottod with brilliant red berries looped back the curtains, emvreathed tho pictures, aud drooped irom vases and shells, aud light over the tall wax candle burning ou tho centre table, hung a bunch of mistletoe (sent with kindly greetings and a real English plumb-pudding from some kinsfolk across the sea,) its waxen berries gleaming like clouded pearls among its slender, green leaves. Miss Osborue had evidently not expected her guest so soon, for she sat before the glowing grate lire with Bessie West’s baby ou her knees, it’s small pink toes held out toward the welcome warmth, aud itself cooiug and gurgling after tho fashion peculiar to ex treme youth. How lovely she lookcu, with a spray of holly iu her hair, and tho loose sleeves of hor dark silk dress falling back from her shapely white arms, as she held the child with motherly grace, aud softly sang a dreamy nursery rhyme! Miles Guernsey thought of tho beautiful Madonna he had seen iu Borne as he looked earnestly at her, a moment before she became aware of his presence. (The black-eyed maid servant going out iu a hurry as he entered unheard.) At last she started up, the roses iu hor chocks sweeter and pinker than ever. “ A merry Christmas 1” she cried. “ H#w good of you to comedo ear ly ! I’ll go call b. other Robert! 44 1 don’t wan’t to see your brother,” said the old bachelor—“at least, not yet. I came to ask—” “ I was sure you would,” said Miss Os borue, breaking out ihto a laugh like a young girl's. -“ I told mother this morn ing. I kuow what you efimo to-Tisk.” t J “ Are you quite certain you do ?” said the ^oltl BueheiroiY an ochl^mile spreading oven 3 his face, until it daiicqd in hip handsome 'davk-eye3. -ft * ,—- “Quite.certait/” said the (help, Mr. feavfihtn nch.^^oavo enoiMpci with this dear-little oue, sent to me, it seems—don’t think me foolish—as a pre cious Christmas gift on this blessed Christ mas day—the day Mary clasped her beau- tul Boy to her heart in the garden of Beth lehem". See, isn’t she pretty ? And. so . lump! Take her iu your arms. I am sure you, who are so kind to cats and dugs, must almost love this motherless little girl.” Aud she laid the child in the arms of the man who had never held a baby beiore, and who looked down upon it with some thing very like tears glittering iu his eyes. ■ Yes, it is pretty, and plump, and eve ry thing you say, Rose—pardon me, Miss Osborue ; but please take it back, I’m afraid ot it. It’s making fearful mouths at me, and I’m sure it’s going to scream,” said the old bachelor, after holding baby exactly two minutes, the tears, if they were tears, gone, aud the smile hack again. 44 Do take it, 1 beg, or I shall drop it.” The old maid held out her arms lie piaced the child in them. “ Aud now you must go to bed, baby,” she said, turning away ; and then turning back to say, with another merry laugh, “You’ll hardly believe it, Mr. Guernsey, but Waif is jealous, and so is puss and her daughter.” And there they were : Waif on the one side of her, and the cat and her kitten on the other ; all the objects of his detesta tion grouped together iu oue terrible tab leau ! Oue moment, Miss Osborne, before you go,” he answered. I have come to ask you—” 44 Ask auy thiug I can grant,” said Miss Osborue, encouragingly, 44 and I will grant it, for you have been a kind neighbor ; 1 hope I may say friend, and this is a merry Christmas—” 44 You to be my wife,” interrupted Miles Guernsey, a wouderful look of love light ing up his lace. Tho baby would have been dropped then if ho hadn’t caught it. But he did catch it, and the old maid too, in his strong ten der arms. I won’t tell you what she said, hut will say that nowhere oil earth was there a merrier Christmas party tlian that at Rose Cottage that Christmas night; and will say further, that the following summer a Mrs. Miles Guernsey helped to superin tend the culture ot the early cucumbers aud peas in Miles Guernsey’s miniature ioldud his arms arounij«8ho dog ot his heart. 44 No, you don’t,” ho srtouted ; “no you don’t. I’ve got letters for that dog. J have got letters lor that dog. I’ve got a letter for that dog from tho Superintendent of the divisiou. This dog goes with me.” And he danced up aud down the plat form with excitemeut, while the brakeman helped his bride on to the train, and then the youug husband followed, cliugiug to that precious dog. But wlieu tho party came back from the sleeper, then there was a scene. The porter looked at the dog uneasily, and said he 44 allowed it was kind of ouregular to tin dogs into de parlor cars.” Whatever misgivings he may have had ou the subject were speedily cleared by a passenger, a testy old gentleman with a hack as broad as a country atlas, and a breath so short that he breathed three times iu speaking a word of two syllables, au old gent with the baldest head that ever mocked hair oil, a head with a fringe of upright, bristly hair all arouud it. His bare feet spread outou the floor, liis suspenders dangled down behind him, his fat face glowed with rage, and' lie roared out to the porter: “Out with that dog. No dogs sleep where I do. I ain’t used to it; I won’t have it. Trundle him out.” “Holdon, there,” cried the confident husband, “ I’ve got letters ” “Blast your letters,” roared the old par ty. “The whole United States Post Office Department can’t crowd a dog in on us. Tell you, young mau, it aiil’t right, it ain’t decent, aud, hy gum, it ain’t sate. Body of a man in the baggage car, now on this very train, that was bit by a lap dog, two weeks ago, while he was asleep, aud died just eleven days afterward. Country’s fuir of mad dogs.” This was a lie about the dead man, but it woke everybody jip in the car, set all the women to screaming and armed pub lic sentiment against tho dog. “ But I tell you tho dog is not mad,” per sisted thb owner, 44 and he’ll have to stay in here. I have letters from the Superin tendon 4 ; oTthe d COMB BXTO’MR. •A tweeter *ong than e’er waft wiug A not* of cheer from Chri List! a* it vibrates full aneftreo* O grieving heart, “Come uuto Me.” O wise provision, sweet com mm3. Vouchsafed the weak and weary, A friend to ffnd ou either hand, * A light fonprosju'ct dreary. A friend who knows our bitter need, Of each endeavor taking heed ; \Y ho calls to every soul opprest, 4 ‘ Come unto Me ; HI give you re^t.” “ Coruc unto Me.*’ The way’s not long, liis hands are stretched to meet thee; Now still thy sobbing, list thb song Which everywhere shall greet tint 4 . Here at His feet your burden lay, Why ’ncath it bend another day, Since One so loving calls to thee, “Oh! heavy laden, come unto me?” A sweeter song than e’er was sung By poet, priest or sages, A song which through all Heaven has rung And down through all the ages. How cau wo turn from such n strain, Or longer wait to ease our pain ? Oh! draw us closer, Lord, that wo May find our sweetest rest in Thee. mt!” roared the SdiPlIe stood shivering .around tho Cen tral Market, a drop of ram finding its way down his spinal column now and then. Ho recognized the fact that the season had closed and that sleeping under sheds had become cold and monotonous. “I’ve to. ay out plans for the winter,” he was heard musing, as lie dived into his pockets. “ I’m kinder ’fraid that the public are sick of grasshopper and lire sufferers, and 1 know they are up to the snuff on the dodge of the clergyman driven out of Arkansas by the Ku-Klux. Let’s see, I might ho a Rus sian or a Turkish exile hut I can’t talk tho language. 1 might be a settler driven out of Idaho by the Injuns, but the war is ended. Al! these kerosene aud gunpowder accidents are. old; tho public don’t earo any more who gets hurt on railroads, aud my eyes are too good to play off blind. ’Nother hand-organ wouldn’t pay, the chest nut business is too cold, and folks won’t buy any more toothache core. Hang it, all the dodges are" played, and here I am as hungry as a wolf, and clothes all gone. , It looks as if the day wasn’t far off wheif we’ll all hare to go to work aud wear oiu*- es down to the bone to .get a living.^’ lington Mauduaie.?<&. mod tho y6uug ■hiintnj) , board’. Idoo but he can’t stay “But, my dear sir/ man. “ Don’t want to hear nothing,” yelled the fat man. “I don’t travel with a menag erie. Nobody wants your dog in here.” “No. Nobody! Nobody wants him!” came iu hearty fearless chorus from the other berths, the chorus carefully and modestly Keeping itself out of sight, so as not to detract from the power of the solo who was gasping out the most terrific de nunciations of all dogs in general, and es pecially this one particular dog. “ But, my dog,” the youug man would plead. 44 Devil take your dog, sir,” the old pas senger would gasp. “ What is your dog or any man’s dog to my comfort. I say 1 shan’t sleep with him in this car. He can’t stay here.” Well, the upshot of it was, the dog had to emigrate into a day coach, and it is a gospel fact, that that man, just married, with the prettiest bride that has been seen tliis country (since eight years ago) didu’t, know whether to sit in the day coach and hold his dog all night or stay back in the sleeper with his wife. He trot ted in and out from one ear to the other until nearly midnight, keeping everybody in a fidget. vegetable garden, and that a number of rose-bushes found their way across the daisy-spangled meadow and over t'.e fence to the border of the neatly kept lawn wee baby girl tumbled about uureproved with Waif as a constant companion and Mary Aim, the cat, as an occasional visitor, And I will still farther say that the next Christmas there was a grandma in tho house, and a grandsou with his mother light brown hair aud his father’s dark eyes, and the most abject slave to both little oues was Mike, the 44 widdy man.” THINGS THAT OUGHT NEVER TO BE. There’s a groat liffiuy tliiotrs that have been tloue iu this Brotht/V hum self by, drinking too much, amt “.specially regretted the injury it brought to the soUrt ety at Sharon. So one morning he stepped over to Brother Crump’s and found tho old man in a doze in t he little porch. 44 Won’t you take a dram ?’’ asked Broth er Crump, as soon as he was made aware of the presence of liis neighbor. 44 Why, yes. I’m not agin a dram when a body wants it.” Brot h t Crump got liis bottle, and he and his friend took a dram apiece. 44 Don’t you think, Brother Noel,” said Crump, 44 that sperits is a blessing?” “ Yes,” replied Noel, “ spirits is a bless ing that some of us abuses.” 44 Well, now, Brother Noel, who do you think abuses the blessing?” 44 Well, it is hard to say—but people talk—don’t you drink a little too much, Brother Crump ?” “ It is hard to say,” returned Crump, “ sometimes I have thought I was drink ing too much, and «giu I’d’think maybe not. What is man ? A weak worruni of the dust! So I left it for the Lord to say whether I was goiu’too far in sperits. I put tho whole ’sponsihiiityon him ; i pray ed ef I was drinkin’ too much for him to take away my appetite for sperits. I’ve prayed that prayer three times, and lie baiu’t done it. So I’m clear of the ’spoil s'! liili tv, any way.” world. You’ll Duel it so hard to believe; A great many born are quite good of their kind, While some seem but made to deceive. If your attention you'll lend for a moment or so, The theme of my song you will see, My object I’m sure will please oue aud all. Of thiugs that ought not to l»e. Our youug ladies now wear a comical dress, Blown np like a bladder behind; Madame Fashion ordains it should fit tight in front, With a balloon and clothes-prop combined. On the top of their heads a long steeple they wear, ’Tls a mountain of black hair to see; Should it ever fall over they’d never get up; It’s a thiug that ought never to 1m;. I have known a poor girl trudging home from her work, As by some rich top elie would run. Proclaim the attention of some passer-by From this ape iu the form of a man. I’ve seen gallant sailors aud soldiers also, Who were wounded by land and sea, Turning round a hand organ, the picture of woe; It’s a thiug tliat ought never to be. When a poor man Is arrested for stealing a loaf Ilia pale, starving family to save, He’ll go for a year, with hard labor, I’m told, While Ida children may go to the grave. Rut let a swell steal by millions, or else rob a bank, With the mouey he soon will In; free ; They’ll imprison tbe poor mau, while the rich live at ease; It’s a thing that ought never to lie. ..The lesson was the parable about the tares and the wheat, and the lather asked the sou : 44 What is a tare ?” 44 You had ’em 1” 44 Johnny, what do you mean ?” asked the anxious parent. “ Why, last week when you didn’t come for three days,” said Johnny, “I heard mother tell aunt Susan that you wpre ou a tare.” Sohnny was immediately sent off to bed. ..“My Lord, we find the man who stole tho mare not guilty,” said the foreman of a Welsh jury when giviug in the verdict. 44 Fight it Out.” A story is told of a daughter of a promi nent person uow in the lecture field which is peculiarly interesting aud suggestive of unconscious wisdom. A gentleman was invited to tho lecturer’s house to tea. Im mediately ou being.seated at the table the littlo girl-astouished tho family circle aud guest by the abrupt question: 44 Where is your wife t” Now the gentleman, having beeu recent ly separated from tho partner of his life, was taken so completely by surprise that lie stammered forth the truth: 44 1 don’t know.” “ Don’t know 1” replied the enfant terri ble. “ Why don’t you know ?” Finding Chat tho child persisted in her interrogatories, despite tho mild reproof of her parents, hu concluded to make a clean breast of tho matter and have it over at ouce. So ho said with a calmness which was the result of inward expletives; jgpAu Eastern editor says a man iu Now York got himself into trouble by mar ry iug two wives. A Northern editor re plies hy saving he knew a number ot men who bad got into trouble hy marrying one. A Southern editor retorts hy saying he knows of some who got into trouble by merely promising to marry without goiug any further. A Western editor closes up the list by saying that a friend of his got into trouble enough by being found with another man’s wife. Cure for Poison- Taka a heaping teaspoonful of common salt aud as much ground mustard, stirtheol in a cup ot warm water and driuk'qnickly- ”\ This preparation will have hardly reachiaft,,, the stomach before it returns, bringing with it tho cause of the trouble. .iLest any remnant of the poison remain, let- the white of au egg or a teacup of strong cbtr . - foe oe swallowed as soon as the stomaoh . is quiet, because those very common ftriyfcg. tides nullify a larger uumber of virulent’ poisous than almost any medicine. Epit is related of a hero in Scottish ilia- f - tory, that when au ovewhelming force was ‘Tf iu full pursuit, aud ail his followers were urging hint to more rapid flight,jho coolly -■ dismounted in order to repair a flaw iu his horse’s harness. While busied with the * broken buckle, the distaut cloud swept down iu nearer thunder, hut just as the prancing hoofs and eager spears were ready to dash down upon him, the flaw was repaired, the clasp was fastened, the steeu was in.muted aud like-a sweeping- falcon ho vanished from their view. The. broken buck to would have left him au . , inglorious prisoner; the timely delay sept . him in safety to bia.buzziug comrades. There is iu daily life the same, luckless precipitancy, and thb samo profitable de lay. The mau who, frofe his prayerless awakening, bounces 1 off into the buSi'sess ot the day, however good his takuits or.