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EASTMAN TIMES.
A K#nl Ti v r'ountrr Papr.
FrMIBFIFP EVERT THURSDAY MORNING
- RY
n. S.BTJRTON.
TERMS OP KtRM RirriON I
One ropy. or> rear f 2.00
Ono r#py, hii months... .f. 1.00
Ten cnpiftN, in Hubs, one your, each 1.60
Kwfc'e ropiaa ; 6 eta
TO A VKKV OLI) WOMAN.
And thou wert onoe a maiden fair.
A blushing virgin, warm and youn^,
With myrtloH wreathed in goWtau hair
And Rloacy brow that knew no oar*
It|>on a bridegroom'* arm you bung.
The Roldon looks are silvered now,
Thr blnnhing r.hivk is pale and wan ,
Th< Spring may bloom, the Autumn glow
All’s one-in chimney-corner thou
Hitt'at shiverinß on.
A moment—and thou sink'at to rest !
To wake, perhaps, an angel blest.
In the bright presence of thy Lord.
O, weary is life’s path to all!
Hard is the strife, aud light the fall,
But wondrous the reward.
MARK DILLON’S BOLD GAME.
*‘J’n setting into terribly bad habits,
Dora. Breakfast at half past mue ! Just
fancy rav indulging in such hours three
years ago, darling, before the world
made jrip its mind that I painted respect
able pictures, and chose to pay me ac
cordingly.”
And young Melville Austin rose from
the daintily-snread breakfast table at
which he and his wife were sitting.
“ I hope yon are going to remain at
home this morning,” Dora said, in a soft,
coaxing tone, that well become her petite
figure and blonde-haired, girlish beauty.
“ Do you know, Austin, that you have
not, painted an atom of canvas this
week ? There’s your new picture of An
tlionv and Cleopatra ”
“Yes, my love,” the young artist in
terrupted, “ I plead guilty to have
shamefully neglected Anthony and Cleo
patra ; but this morning’s engagement
will not occupy much time, and I shall
be home in an hour, I trust, ready to be
gin work. In the meanwhile, Dora, if
that model of whom 1 was speaking
should make her appearance, just ask
her to wait in the studio.”
1 am anxious to sec this divinity,
Melville. Is she so very beautiful ?” '
" After a certain type, yes,” the hus
band answered, carelessly. Then, while
his handsome face lit up with a sudden
brightness, ho added, in lower rimes,
Aon know there is but one woman in
the world, Dorn, whoso beautv can
thoroughly satisfy me.”
For some time after her husbands de
parture that, morning, Dora Austin re
mained buried in what, judging from
the happy smile that played about her
month, and danced in the blue depths
of her tender eyes, must have been
thoroughly agreeable thoughts.
“Was ever woman so blessed V” she
murmured presently, as if asking the
question of her own heart. “Three
years to morrow since we were married
and still the same devoted love from
dear Melville. Flow foolish F was ever
to dream that this worldly success
Houid cool (ho ardor of that love 1
Nothing can ever change him noth
ing! ”
“ Hie young woman has called
mn am. and is now waiting outside.
, l' ilpr ito Mr. Austin’s
studio?” * *
f 'ora’s rneditathad bean ahiuptlr
broken by the voice of the stately but
ler who stood at her elbow.
“Oh! you mean Mr. Austin’s model?”
► lie said a little i‘onlusedly. “ ics
James. I believe your master wishes her
to wait in the studio till his return. By
t he way, James, you may manage to let
tier pass through this room, i wish to
see her.”
I he man bowed, and departed to eke
i nto Mr. Austin Border, returning pres
ently followed by a poorly-clad woman,
of whose face Dora merely caught a
momentary glimpse as she hurried to
ward the adjoining studio.
How beautiful!” the young w ? ife
murmured ; “ and what a face for Cleo
patra ! She seemed anxious to escape
my notice, poor woman ! I wonder if
she is ashamed of her vocation? You
<old her, James, did you not ad
dtessmg the butler, who returned at
this moment—“that Mr. Austin would
return very shortly ?”
“Yes, ma’am.” t
James was not absent from the break
fast room five minutes before he again
made his appearance there. A rather
shabby man desired to see Mrs. Austin,
“houid Ire admit him ?
•bit the ceremonious butler had
fcnrcely finished speaking when a gruff
' mce sounded from the entrance of the
room,
A rough-looking, heavily-bearded
man was standing on the threshold,
dm ; a 3 'y O PPOte to Dora, who was
vested neftr one of the windows.
'oo may go, my good fellow, 7 the
will! M d * t “ I ve Particular business
w, th Mrs. Austin.”
(>s ~ James—you— may—go. ”
ine words were gasped forth some
, f ™ m u I)ora ’ white lips. If the
i, i, observed the agitation which
~' u ; ( ° n y over Powered his mistress,
■ ' '.is too well trained to manifest the
fr,,n ” nr P riße , ft ud quietly withdrew
jr<m the room, closing the door after
‘‘Oh heaven ! is it you, Mark Dillon ?
1 fought you dead -I
wlii u r< 8 ’ hoarse whisper in
i,./. 1 8 ottered them died- to silenca
Ausfi,, , lla( * • hnished, and Dora
* { C ‘J heavily forward in a dead
£? u !lt the stranger’s feet,
follnn- VI"* 0 * fi er was quickly
the f " | that of an opening door at
A,® rther end of the room, as Mr.
( n u * l wearing a startled look
tho ~h. ea . n tiful face, hurried in from
er’s ni°b. mn ®’ the strang
-oVpr Waß turned to her as he bent
! the prostrate figure of Dora.
p r l * TVas . fi e ft ware of the woman’s
tomUi a i ln apartment until she
and in ,llm hghfcjy on the shoulder,
•ho l i R gather timid voice, said, “is
room I'Vl 1 ’ Rir? 1 w* m the next
JiUwe? , * heard ' Heave “ s ’ M,rk!
uj"*?! rhe mau had suddenly
while smili fac ? toward the speaker,
J i ?°P IDJ|? over Mrs. Austin’s
S'H “Oh, I recollect,” he
Vu *3 Bt ® rnl .V ; “you told me that
woman * as a mo(i “h and thu
2 nd vou ’£ 3 i? ps ’, for y° u being here,
ing so thank your stars for hav
you had fon an ? XCUBe * If 1 thought
The I*° °wed me ”
ished ihe V ,^ as h oX his dark eyes fin
than word a Ben }° nce more powerfully
Tr>mhlln < 0U ll havo ao,ie *
answered i IU ever .7 luub, the woman
thought ’ f P r^ in^y: “ X h atl 1)0
never iirto ■ lowing you, Mark. T
I .> gmedthat yon knew this lady.
Hr fetoi flues.
Two Dollars Per Annum,
VOLUME 111.
“ Leave this house in tantly, Ellen !
Don’t hesitate a moment, but go at
once.”
The woman shuddered, and turned
toward the door lending into the
st udio.
“ I may explain this matter to you
some other time,” the man coutinned,
“ but remember, I warn yon against
remaining in this house a moment
louger thao you can help.”
When the studio door had closed be
hind the woman’s retreating steps, Mark
Dillon once more bent over the white
face of Dora Austin. A faint shiver
convulsed her frame at this moment,
and while his gaze was eagerly fastened
upon her countenance, the silken lashes
slowly lifted themselves from her eyes.
“ Then it was no dream,” she mur
mured, hoarsely, rising from her fallen
Dosture, assisted by the man she ad
dressed. “ You hava come,” she pres
ently continued, “ to reveal all to Mel
ville Austin.”
She sank back into an arm-chair now,
with a weary, gaspiDg sigh.
“ T haven’t come to do anything of
the sort, Dora Dillon,” the man said,
with a kind of sullen emphasis in his
gruff tones. “ I don’t wish to claim
you as my wife. You believed me dead,
three years ago, and married Melville
Austin; there’s nothing particularly
culpable about your conduct as far as I
eau discover. I shall be the last one,
depend upon it, my dear Mrs. Austin, to
rtveal anything disagreeable concern
ing your antecedents.”
“ And why will you reveal nothing ?
Eat there lie no disguise between us,
Mark Dillon. I know your brutal na
ture thoroughly. You came hero this
morning to sell your silence. Is it not
so?”
“ You are perfectly right, Mrs. Aus
tin-or Mrs. Dillon. Which is to be,
by the way ?”
His tones were defiantly supercilious;
his keeu, cruel eyes were fixed upon
the agonized woman with something of
a serpent’s pitiless gaze when the prey
is within easy distance, and possession
has become a certainty.
But Mark Dillon started back with
amazement, as Dora answered him,
calmly, scornfully and decisively, in
the following words:
“ I shall not deceive the man to whom
I owe all the happiness l have ever en
joyed m this world the man whom I
love, honor and reverence, as only a
nature like Melville Austin’s is worthy
of being regarded. When I married
him, Mark Dillon, I acted upon my firm
conviction of your death. Now, 1 know
myself to have been in error, and a
single course remains to me. The in
stant that Melville Austin returns
home, 1 shall inform him of the truth.”
“Are you mad, Dora Dillon?” he
exclaimed, every trace of his superei!
ions manner gone, and nothing but a
sort of furious surprise remaining.
“ Aro you n ad, thus to throw away the
position yon have won? to make of
yourself a beggarly outcast ?—to
“Enough of this, Mark Dillon,” she
interrupted haughtily. “Your game
was a bold one, but it has proved a
failure. Ah, my husband !”
Melville Austin Had suddenly entered
the apartment. Glancing at the ashen
pale countenance of Dora, a look of
amazement overspread his own. Then,
burning toward the stranger, who stood
beside the chair in which she was
seated, Mr. Austin said, “It strikes
me that I heard your voice, raised in
rather disrespectfully loud tone, as I
stood in the hall a moment ago. Were
you addressing this lady, sir? Dora,
who is this person ?”
A slight tremor shook Dora Austin’s
frame, and her ghastly lips quivered
for an instant. But only for an instant.
She had risen now, and was addressing
Melville, who listened silently until
she had ceased speaking, stupefied,
doubtless, by the dreadful import of
what she uttered.
“ That mau, Melville, is my husband.
Five years ago, before you and 1 ever
met, poverty had reduced my Another
and myself to the last stages of want.
On my mother’s death, and while I was
still almost a child in years, Mark Dil
lon asked me to become his wife We
were married, and I soon discovered
that .my wretched, friendless position
had been exchanged for one oi still
greater misery. I had bee me united
to a man from whose vile, wicked life
my whole nature turned in loathing.
One evening, in a fit of drunken fury,
he struck me. Tnat night I fled from
his bouse. During the year that fol
lowed, I succeeded iu supporting my
self comfortably on the proceeds of my
needlework. Two months before chance
had made me acquainted with you,
Melville,lhad learned accidentally of my
husband’s death in France. You know
what followed. To day I learn, for the
first time since our marriage, thatMatk
Dillon lives. ”
“ Oh, God, can this be true?
The words seemed wrung from the
very dentil of Melville Austin's agon
ized sou!. Staring lir*t at his wife, and
then at the moody, orestfal.en man be
side her, bis face expressed the keenest
intensity of mental suffering. And
the icy calmness with which Dora had
spoken meltf and to a passion of sobs.
Stealing toward her husband s side,
she murmured, brokenly : “ Before we
part, Melville, say that you forgive me
for being the cause of so much future
wretchedness— for having brought to
your noble heart a sorrow it has so little
deserved.” „ . , , „
“ Part Dora ? We must not —we shall
not part 1 1
He had drawn her to his breast, with
a wild, impulsive movement At the
same instant the door of the studio was
suddenly unclosed, and a woman s voice
cried out in clear, ringing tones, Mark
Dillon lies, Mrs. Austin when ho dares
to call himself your husband! I—
wronged, deserted, outraged as I have
been, am none the less , his lawfully
wedded wife, married to him eeven years
Tw in Manchester. Let him IWj
it' he dares. You need not scowl and
glare at me,” the woman went on,
hotly; “what I speak ta the troth,
and I do not fear to utter it.
\ low cry of rage escaped Dillon e
infs w he sprang toward the woman
*\ ’ simken. But with a blow of
Tron MsWilhv Austin’s hand hurled hint
backward. Fora moment the villain
his wife’s protector with a
tigerish fierceness in his dark, danger
ous eves and then, like the coward he
was, slunk from the apartment.
EASTMAN. DODGE CO., GEORGIA, 'THURSDAY, APRIL -2!*, 1875.
And from the house, too, never en
tering it agam. An hour afterward his
wife, Ellen Dillon, followed him,
against the earnest entreaty of Mel
ville aud Dora.
“lie will beat me when L return to him,
perhaps,” she said, with a mournful
smile ©n her exquisite lace, “but I must
go, nevertheless. It seems like a curse,
sometimes, that in spite of his brutality
and wickedness, I cannot hate Mark.
But whenever I think of our child at
home, I believe that this weakness is
all for the best. I can guard him
against imitating his father; and who
knows what a son’s influence may do in
future years ? ”
Her sad words left Dora Melville
grave And thoughtful for a long time
after her departure.
“ That woman loves him, Melville,”
the wife murmured, at length, in slow,
musing topes—“loves him in spite of
his villainous treatment. W|iat a mar
velous mystery love is ! ”
“Marvelous, indeed, Dora!”
“ Did you really mean, Melville, that
nothing should part us—not even the
knowledge of being another’s wife—
when you spoke so passionately just be
fore Ellen Dillon entered from the
studio?”
Her soft hand had stolen into his,
her tearful eyes were fixed irpon his
own, with eager questioning in their
blue depths.
Melville Austin’s answer was spoken
with unhesitating fondness : “I meant
that, if all the world had striven to sep
arate us, Dora, I should still have
struggled to regain you. Until to day
I never have known the strength aud
power of my love,”
His arms were clasped about her
now, and she was sobbing forth her
thaukfillness upon his faithful breast.
The Secret of Success.
The Kingi of Trade-Speculation and
.Iniiriiallatii.
New York Letter.
This is the day of regularity and re
spectability in the trade of "art. The
leaders, lieutenants and adjutants even
work hard, wear good clothes, have pol
ished manners, and observe the conven
tionalities. Our authors and journal
ists, of the better sort, have no affiliation
with wild convivialistu, but look on life
seriously and serenely, as something
they should make the most of, however
discouraging the circumstances.
Business men who arrive at altitudes
forswear dissipation. They who have
grown rich, have adopted a system, and
steadily followed it. The veteran Van
derbilt lias, from youth up, been as
careful of his health as if he had been
an invalid. He owes his vigorous
eighty years to the exactest observation
of hygienic laws No heavy dinners,
no late suppers, no unseemly hours, no
frequent drinks for him. Without cd
iieation, Jie has high intelligence, and
wonderful common sense—rarer per
haps than genius.
A. T. Stewart lias been as regular as
a Geneva watch for fifty years. So has
Moses Taylor; so has George Law ; ho
has Royal Phelps. So have all these
who hold big purses and exercise un
seen power.
The Wall street speculators, reckless
as they seem, if they ride long on the
upper waves, preserve their digestion,
and keep their heads cool. Daniel
Drew would have been buried years
ago, had he not lived abstemiously,
and taken innumerable bowls of sun
shine. day Gould may not have a heart,
though he has a stomach, and provides
for it wisely. His brain is worth too
much to him to have it clouded by bil
iousness, dyspepsia, repletion, or shat
tered nerves.
They who live free and fast, like
Leonard Jerome, John Tobin, Henry
N. Smith, and A. B. Stockweil, went
under in due seasou. Dissipation
compels its followers to pay more usuri
ous interest than any Sliylock of Broad
street.
GREAT JOURNALISTS.
Horace Greeley, founder of the Tri
bune, was always an avoider of all ex
cesses save those of work. He never
could have accomplished half that he
did, had he net eschewed tobacco,
liquor, and the common vices. For many
j ears he used his brain from ten to
twelve hours a day, and never needed
other stimulant than a hearty appetite
for labor, which, to his dying hour,
was not appeased.
James Gordon Bennett, who alone
and unaided, created the Herald (mak
ing it the best newspaper property in
the western world out of nothing but
brains, energy, and pluck), was, in his
private life, without stain. Constantly
a 8 he was abused and portrayed as a
moral monster, he never owed anybody
a dollar ; never gambled ; never drank;
never was guilty of an intrigue. All
his faults were professional, and these
consisted chiefly in editing his news
paper in the manner that seemed to him
most effective. He might at times
have been intoxicated with the success
of the Herald, but that was the only
intoxication he ever knew.
Henry J. Raymond, the only strong
man the Times has had, was temperate
in habit, not less than in disposition.
Few journalists here have done so much
work on a paper, day after day, week
alter week, month after month, as Ray
mond did on his. Unless be had been
attuned to moderation, and subject to
hygienic laws, he could not have per
formed the wonderful task of writing
out, as he once did, nine columns and
a half of one of Daniel Webster’s
speeches, at a single sitting.
It is the same in journalism as in liter
ature, art, business, everything. The
men who make their mark, who refuse
to be borne down, and who, if borne
down, come up again, and stay up, are
the men who do not dissipate. There
are brilliant fellows with many vices
who flash like a rocket, but, like it,
they go out in the darkness, and are
silent forever. Good sense and perse
verance out-rank brilliancy, and these,
when sustained, demand ireedom from
dissipetion. Ethics have a value above
ethics ; they are the base and build of
right being. All experience worth
having proves that no sort of perma
nent success can be achieved without
rigid adherence to moral law.
A member of the North Carolina leg
islature, in discussing a bill, asked :
“Mr. Speaker, are we men or jack
asses?” Several North Carolina pa
pers are unable to take sides.
In God li e Trust.
t’pring Styles for Children.
For boys, we find the kilt plaited skirt
will be still in great favor for all under
four or five years of age, but the varie
ty iu material is very great, and there
is a number of new styles of trimming
and cutting. Shirt waists of linen amt
fine figures of cambric will be worn un
der the open jackets of these suits, and
are made with wide collars, or a little
stand up linen collar broken at the ends,
which is very jaunty and dressy.
For older boys, the blouse suit is be
ing extensively revived in the more
fashionable establishments, made with
rolling collar to show the shirt fronts
and necktie, or closed to the throat with
a wide collar extending to the shoulders.
Sailor suits, and suits with a vjest and
open coat will also be in great favor.
Gray tweed, navy blue flanr l, soft
cassimere in all shades, cheviot and a
fine cloth are all stylish and fashiona
ble materials for these suits.
The close fitting turban cap, with
wide broad buckle, the silk worn last
fall and a soft felt, are all in favor for
bojys’ spring hats. Boots are worn,
above the ankle, closely buttoned, while
the striped stocking is universally worn.
Shaded stripes, graduated stripes, and
solid colored stripes are all seen and
the pants fall but little below the knee,
until the full youths ‘suit is adopted.
For little girls the styles are still
more varied, but the combination suit
is the prevailing fashion. Silk and
serge, or silk anil mohair, one of solid
color, one striped or plaid are shown,
and the cut is but a reduced copy of
the fashions in vogue for ladies. Navy
blue suits vary from the sailor costumes
of last season, by uniting solid colors,
diagonals, stripes or cheeks in the same
dress. Serge will be a favorite mate
rial, and is made up in suits both of the
same color throughout or iu combina
tion. The liasque, sacque aud over
skirt. supercede the polonaise or tunic
in many of the imported suits for little
girls, and some of the most stylish cos
tumes arc trimmed with narrow velvet,
ribbons. All over skirts are bouffant©
at the back, three large puffs being a
favorite fashion. Bide plaiting is ex
tensively us?d for misses’ dresses, and
the shirred ruffling is now and in great
favor.
Normandy caps will still be worn, but
are of new shapes, and flowers are being
extensively introduced iuto the trim
mings, tiny clusters among the lace
niching, and buds or sprays in the face
trimmings,
Htnped stockings will be universally
worn aud are sold to match the colors
of walking suits, iu solid stripes, shaded
and graduated stripes. The low cut
ties will lie worn as the weather be
comes warmer, and for these, stockings,
beautifully embroidered on the instep,
are offered.
White chip wi’l be a favyrjje material
for girl’s hats, but. I have seen some
exceedingly pretty ones ui Leghorn and
fancy straw, as well as colored chip.
For wee babies and little ones just
runuing alone, the choice of white goods
is varied and beautiful. Embroidery is
the universal trimming, but, it is impos
sible to describe the many ways in
which it is used. Flounces of fine
needle-work are in favor, and ruffling
eu tablier is also a popular trimming.
The materials are increased by many
novelties both in thick and thin goods.
All the new garments for very vonng
children arc high in the neck and long
sleeved. Tokes of tine tucks and em
broideries are used for-slips, to be
bolted by wide sash ribbons and a tiny
puffed heading to long sleeves, is in
great favor. Standing ruffles of em
broidery finish these yokes at the
throat.
Babies caps for street wear are made
in Normandy shape of muslin and lac?,
and lined with delicately tinted silk,
white for boys, a turban shape of the
same material is extensively offered.
Cloaks of cashmere are elaborately
embroidered and lined with silk, botn
braiding and silk embroidery being very
popular.
Women as Artists.
The Baltimore Gazette, speaking of
women artists, says : “ That the ranks
of the painters should be recruited
from among women as well as from
among men is natural and right. Rea
soning merely from natural laws, a
woman should have all the delicacy of
touch, all the artistic sense of beautv
of color and harmony of effect, and
especially the subtle sentiment requisite
to make an artist. In certain branches
of art she might not be able to com
mand success. But art lias an infinite
variety. It is as wide as nature itself,
as varied as men and man’s life- as
high and vague and imaginative as’ the
unseen world and all the airy creations
of fancy. All women, because they
study art, may not be Rosa Bonheurs
or Angelica Kaufmans. They may not
even reach the level of Miss Hosmer,
and may be compelled to forsake the
congressionally flower-strewn paths of
the Yinnie Reams. They will undergo
a process of sifting as raen do who
make art a profession. They mnst
have the same qualities, love of art for
art’s sake, a vivid perception of the
salient points of beauty, a deft hand,
a true eye, and above all, perseverance.
The poet may be born, not made ; but
the artists has to be born and made
too. All that we have said is, it will
be seen, no discouragement to a woman
artist. Who has defter, more supple
hands? Whose ideas of beauty and
fitness respond more quickly to cultiva
tion? Who can be educated to love
and appreciate art and artistic arrange
ment, and the great loveliness of na
ture, from the perfection of a flower,
aod the wavy beauty of a field of wind
rippled wheat, to the gathering storm
ot a summer’s day ? Her impressions
are quick and vivid. Why should she
not, then, be a painter ? She has in
sight ; why cannot she put the insight
into a tangible form, with technical
skill, proper color, light, shade, per
spective, correct drawing ? And still,
if she cannot do this, the time is not
thrown away for the woman who has
studied art. We do not speak of paint
ing as an elegant amusement, a de
lightful occupation of spare hours, a
source of gratification in preserving
memorable places, persons, and many
of the smaller pleasures of memory
which ordinarily fade away and are lost
to us. We might very well do this,
but it is not the intention with which
we started out. That was the pursuit
of art and a profession by women
artists. In doing so we have dismissed
from contemplation all who have no
special talent. Bnch persons had bet
ter abandon art at once. Its ranks are
crowded enough. There is room for
more, but not at the bottom. Half
way up the pressure is relieved, and at
the top of the ladder there is no com
plaint of want of elbow-room. There
fore it is of those who have at least
some aptitude for art we spoke when
we said that its study was not time
wasted even to those who cannot hope
to attain the highest station.”
The Art of Dress.
The Pall Mall Gazette, in a review of
M. Charles Blanc on the art of dressing,
say# : “ Some of our readers will per
haps be surprised to learn that the
style of a lady’s dress should depend
upon the shape of her nose, jnst as the
colors she wears must be chosen with a
due regard to her complexion and the
particular shade of her hair. If the
nose is classical the toilet must have a
certain style about it, especially when
the person’s features and bearing are
imposing. But what is style ? asks M.
Charles Blanc; and he then proceeds to
tell us that this question may be an
swered by the first principles of decor
ative art—namely, that there is more
majesty in repetition than in alterna
tion, and more dignity in harmony than
in contrast. Few colors, lines that are
seldom broken, an air of simplicity even
in th'e midst of richness, uniformity of
materials, and quiet trimmings consti-
tute a toilette severe. On the other
hands, different shades of color, broken
lines, novel trimmings, and the piqu
ancy caused by contrast are the charac
teristic features of a toilette de genre ,
an would suit a person witli a “tip
tilted” nose, as Tennyson has it, or at
least an unclassical one, a pleasant
lookihg countenance, or saucy eyes.
There are thus two extremes -austerity
and coquetry, or, in other words, dig
nity and gracefulness—as well as a
medium style, which may bo termed
pompous elegance, M. Charles Blanc
compares the three kinds of toilet to
♦he three orders of architecture, and
tells us that by taking a little from one
aud a little from another we can com
pose dresses that will suit any style of
features. A lady, however, in selecting
her toilet, should always bear in mind
that she must adorn herself in such a
manner that, when people look at her
their attention, after resting a moment
on bet dress, will become concentrated
on her person. In this manner the ele
gance and gracefulness of a lady’s at
tire will cause people to admire the lady
herself. How often have we heard it
said, * We saw some magnificent dresses
this afternoon !’ Now, if the clover
dressmakers who fashioned those robes
had exercised a little more ingenuity
the same people would have remarked,
4 We saw some very pretty women this
afternoon.”’
Hell,
The word “bell,” a translation of the
Greek word Gehenna, is a term used to
designate the valley of Hinnom. This
valley bounds Jerusalem on the north,
and lies below Mount Zion—a scene of
sacred and imperishable associations.
In this valley Moloch, the national god
of the Amorites, was worshiped with
the horrid and inhuman rite of sacri
ficing children in the fire. When
Josiah, in his conquests, overthrew this
idolatry, he poured contempt upon the
infernal practice by casting into the
valley the bones of the departed. In
the estimation of the old Hebrews
the bones of the dead caused
the greatest of all pollutions. What
ever person, place, or things they
touched were forthwith considered
“unclean.” Hence this valley of Hin
nom, this “ hell,” having been the re
ceptacle of the human remains which
Josiah threw into it, was considered
a place the most polluted and ac
cursed. From this circumstance it be
came a common receptacle for all the
refuse of the city of Jerusalem. Here
large quantities of decomposing veg
etable and animal matter were con
stantly thrown. This putrescent matter
generated an abundance of worms ; the
worms here never died. To prevent
the noxious effluvia, springing from
this mass of corruption, poisoning the
atmosphere and breathing disease and
death into the heart of the city, fires
were kept burning day and night. This
valley, therefore, was literally a place
where “the worm never died, and
where the fire was never quenched.”—
Rev. Phelps.
The Luck of Storm Lake.
The advent of Storm Lake Brolinska
into this world was attended by more
auspicious circumstances than the fates
usually accord to humanity at the
threshold of life. The western-bound
trains, with several hundred passengers,
were snow-bound at Storm Lake, lowa,
a village on the line of the Illinois Cen
tral railroad, eighty miles east of Sioux
City. The hotels of the place, as well
as the private residences, were soon
crowded by the beleagured passengers.
On one train was a car of Mennonites
on their way to join their countrymen
in Dakota. They refnsed to leave their
car, and next morning it was ascertained
that Mrs. Brolinska had become a moth
er. The report of the occurrence hav
ing become generally known, steps were
at once taßen to welcome the little
stranger. The mayor called a meeting
of the council, which declared the day
a public holiday ; and voted the hosp;'-
* talities of the city to the baby and its
mother. A procession was soon parad
ing the streets, and the mother and
baby were carried in triumph to the city
hall, where speeches were made by the
mayor. Judge Kidder, delegate to con
gress from Dakota, and several promi
ntnt citizens. The announcement was
then made that a five-acre plat of ground
was to be given to the baby, who was
ebrietened by a popular vote Storm
Lake Brolinska. The procession then
reformed and escorted Master Brolinska
to the station, aud the traiu moved on
amid Ihe firing of canuon and the ring
ing of bells.
Anothef. half million of Tweed’s
property (has been attached in West
chester county, New York.
Payable in Advance.
NUMBER 13.
Tlie Forms of Fear.
in various characters fear assumes va
rious forms. Some children, who can
brave an external danger, will su.k de
pressed at a reproof or pueer. It is our
business to guard against the inroads of
fear under every shape : for it. is an in
firmity, if sneered to gain the ascend
ancy, most enslaving to the mind, and
destructive of its strength and capability
of enjoyment. At the same time, it is
an infirmity so difficult to overcome, and
to which children are so excessively
prone, that it may be doubted whether
in any branch of education more disc re
tion or more skill is required. We have
two objects to keep in view: the one, to
secure our children from all unnecessary
and imaginary fears ; the other, to in
spire them with that strength of mind
which may enable them to meet, with
patience and courage, the real and un
avoidable evils of life. For the first,
there is no one who has contemplated
the suffering occasioned, throngh life,
by the prevalence of needless fears, im-
aginary terrors, and diseased nerves, but
would most earnestly desire to preserve
their children from these evils. To this
end, they should be, as far as possible,
guarded from everything likely to excite
sudden alarm, or to terrify the imagina
tion. In very early childhood they ought
not to be startled, even at play, by sud
den noises or strange appearances. Ghost
stories, extraordinary dreams, or other
gloomy aud mysterious tales, must, on
no account, be named in their presence,
nor must they hear histories of murders,
robberies, sudden deaths, mad dogs, or
terrible diseases. If any such occur
rences are the subjects of general con
versation, let them, at least be prohib
ited in the nursery. Nor is it of less
importance that we should be cautious
ourselves of betraying alarm at storms,
a dread of the dark, or a fear and dis
gust at the sight of animals. The
stricter vigilance in these respects is
required because, by casual indiscretion
on our part, by leaving about an inju
dicious book, or one alarming story, by
once yielding ourselves to an emotion
of groundless terror, an impression
may be made on the mind of a child
that will continue for years, and mate
rially counteract the effect of habitual
watchfulness.
The New England Sabbath.
In lfUfi they made a law in Massachu
setts. that if any one “contemptuously
behaved toward ye word preached, or
yo messengers thereof. For ye first
scandalo, to be convenient and reproved
openly by ye magistrate at some lec
ture, and bound to good behavior ; and
if a second time they break forth into
ye like contemptible carriage, either to
pay X 5 into ye public treasury, or to
stand two hours openly upon a block
four feet high, on a leeturo day, with a
paper affixed on their heart, with this,
A W anwn Goswelukr,. written in capi
tal U t ters ; y o others may fear and be
ashamed of breaking out into ye like
wickedness.”
In 1677 the geueral court ordered
that “a cage bo set up in the market
place of Boston, and in such other town
as the county courts shall appoint,
wherein shall be put, to remain till ex
amined aud punished, any one breaking
the Sabbath. ” Officers called tyt.hing
men enforced the observance of the
Sabbath. The law provided that, as a
badge of office, they should have a
“ black staff of two foote long, tipt at
one end with brass, about three inches.”
This staff soon came to have a feather
stuck into one end, with which to tickle
the noses of drowsy sinners, while the
end tipped with brass enforced order on
the pates of unruly boys.. In this man
ner was the congregation kept attentive
during the sermon, which generally
lasted about an hour and a half, meas
ured by an hour glass standing on the
pulpit.
Project for the Civilization of Africa.
- A bold project for the civilization of
Africa is announced, under the sanc
tion of Capt. Sir John H. Glover. Mr.
It. N. Fowler and other well-known
gentlemen. This is the formation of a
canal for commercial purposes from the
mouth of the river Belta on the At
lantic, in the neighborhood of Cape
Juby and Cape Bajador, opposite the
Canary Islands, to the northern bend
of the Niger at Timbuctoo, a distance
of 740 miles. Such a highway would
open up tfce African continent to the
world, and it is believed that no formi
dable obstacle opposes its construction,
but that the conformation of the great
Desert of Sahara favors the scheme.
For 630 miles of the distance there is a
great hollow, supposed to be 250 feet
below the level of the Atlantic, which
was probably at one time covered by
the sea. This low country is separated
from the coast by a broken ridge of
about thirty miles, through which the
river Belta runs for twenty-five miles,
so that all that would be necessary in
order to reach it is to deepen the chan
nel of the river, cut through the ridge,
and let the Atlantic fall into the vast
arid basin. In this way a vast sheet of
water would be formed, the climate
would be improved, the country would
become more fertile for pasturage, and
agriculture and commerce would be
carried into the heart of Africa.
The Canadian Pacific Railroad.—
The preliminary surveys for the Cana
dian Pacific railway are rapiply ap
proaching completion, and the actual
construction of various sections of it
will very shortly be in progress. In
the government estimates for next year
there is an item of $6,250.000 under the
head of “ Pacific Railway,” and on the
occasion of its discussion in committee
of supply, the premier indicated what
the government proposed to do in
furtherance of this undertaking. A
telegraph service is to be established
along the entire route in advance of the
railway, and 81,000,000 is asked for that
purpose. Tne contracts for this are
already let. Two millions of dollars is
for the payment of the large purchase
of steel rails recently made in England
by tbe government; 50,000 tons of the
best steel rail were secured at the av
erage rate of $40.30 per ton, which is
claimed to be a lower rate than iron rails
were sold for during 1873, and a little
more than half. t£e price of steel rails
during the same period.
EASTMAN TIMES.
RATES OF ADVERTISING:
stack. 1 id. 3m. Bm. 11m.
One square $4 00 $ 7 0(> 910 00 9 IS 08
Two square* 25 12 00 IS 00 28 00
Four nquareo .. 0 7f. 19 Ooi 28 UO 38 08
One-fourth col 11 50 22 50] 34 00 48 08
Otic-half col 20 00 82 SO 6S 00 SO 00
One column 3ft 00! _sl> OO 1 WQQoj 130 It
Adwtiacincula Inserted at the rate of 91.50 i**r
square for the first ineertlon, and 75 cents for each
subsequent one. Ten line* or lees constitute a
square.
Professional cards, $16.00 n/w annum ; fw t
months, SIO.OO, in advance.
BAYINHS AND l>ol>S.
Mark Twain deuies that his Gilded
Age was a failure. He says it gave a
poor, worthy bookbinder a job.
The latest eastern slang with which
to come down on a long-tongued boro
is : “ Write the rest, down on a piece
of paper, and we’ll read it Sunday.”
A woman in Switzerland was recently
married to a man iu America by proxy.
This looks as if it might prove to be
the first step toward a system of hap y
marriages. The proxy experiment
should have a full and fair trial.
It is said an article by John C. Gal
ton, on the song of fishes, that fifty
two out of more than 3,000 species of
fishes are known to produce sounds,
and that many of them emit musical
sounds.
Edgar Poe said : “To vilify a great
man is the readiest way in which a
little man can himself attain greatness.
The crab might never have become a
constellation but for the oonrage it
evinced in nibbling Hercules on the
heel.”
One young man who resolved at the
beginning of the new year not to smoke
any more cigars bought his second box
of clay pipes Ho says he
will stick to his promise if it takes every
clay pipe in town. Be brave, young
man, and hold on !
Dry times in Michigan. The artesian
well at Arian has reached a depth of
1,000 feet, and there is still no water.
Only the fact that the well at Fort
Wayne, Ind., is 1,500 feet deeper and
just as dry keeps the originators of the
Michigan enterprise from seeking the
seclusion offered by the farthest west.
The New York saloons pay half a mil
lion dollars a year to the city, and take
in fifty-one millions in the same time.
The city officials aud the grave diggers
wear good clothes and smile sarcasti
cally when the strides of temperance
are referred to in their presence.
What shall be done with an Indian
who kills another Indian, there being
no law for the punishment of that
crime, is c, painful inquiry made by the
Christian commission. The New York
Herald answers, “Give him a gun, a
quart of whisky, a string of beads,
and $5,”
Apropos to the notion of putting
clocks in all the principal streets of
Paris, all combined electrically to give
a uniform hour, the Figaro says : “This
is the last, work of progress, and Paris,
as usual, is in advance of all cities.”
But Brussels had this piece of progress
ten years ago, aud copied it from old
fashioned Ghent.
The women of a Colorado'town got.
up a suffrage meeting the other day, no
men being admitted. No business of
importance was transacted, however,
because some invisible miscreant, let.
down a live rat through the skylight,
and, amid shrieks and screams, the aa
semblage suddenly adjourned.
A nkw Bt.. Louis reporter, getting in
late from a tire, was told to write some
stirring head-lines for his report, and
he did. They ran thus: “Feast of
the Fire Fiend- The Forked-Tongued
Demon Licks with its Lurid Breath a
Lumber Pile !—Are tbe Beenes of Bos
ton and Chicago to be Repeatod ?—Loss
5150.”
A maratime novelty has arrived in
New York in the shape of a stoamer of
1,380 tons from Gothenburg, in Sweden,
called the Bjfrost (Rainbow). She is
built of the best Swedish cliarcoal-raade
iron, and the ribs and beams are steel.
Her furnaces only consume fifteen tons
of coal a day. She is brig-rigged with
five bulkheads and two decks.
M. Loroeril, of tbe French Assem
bly, has excited the French apotheca
ries. He says they sell for twenty-five
cents a medicine which costs them
about a cent and a half; but they say
the medicine costs them at least twice
as much, that is three cents, and they
seem to consider it an outrage that any
one ghould thus question their right to
a profit of 800 per cent.
The removal of foreign substances
from the ear may be often accomplish
ed by doubling a horses hair in the
form of a loop, and, placing the patient
upon the side, passing the loop into the
ear as far as it will go, then turning it
gently. The substance will generally
come out in the loop after one or two
withdrawals. The application will do
no damage if the hair be carefully used.
Two thousand years from this year,
when the compiler of ancient poetry
stumbles upon these mysterious lines,
which are now going the newspaper
rounds, he will wonder what they could
possibly have meant :
I h®ld a hand at “ draw,''
And thinking it worth while,
I “blinded" half mv pile ;
Aud with triumphant smile,
He “ saw.”
I drew one card—’twas red ,
The other four were spades
Straightway that fellow wade*
For me with three old maids—
“ Nuff ced.”
“Rich blue velvet with garniture of
the finest Russian sable, satin petticoat
trimmed with bands of diamonds and
large diamond tassels, and trains of
velvet.” That was what the duchess of
Edinburgh wore at a royal drawing
oom in which she made her finest ap
pearance. Note the use of the terms
“bands of diamonds” and “large dia
mond tassels,” and then imagine the
magnificence of the display.
An Indianapolis detective, being
sworn, deposes and says: “Pearl
chinned me to fake this house-work; this
was not at the Sheenys. He told me
to cheese it on the Sheeny, as he had
given him away. I then asked him
what kick-up he and the Sheeny had,
as my mob had split on me and left me
without a finneff.” What a great Cali
fornia poet that man would be if he
had a chance.
M. D. Conway tells of a lady in one
of the manufacturing towns of Great
Britain who recently had her attention
attracted to the window of a milliner’s
shop by a beautiful and very ex
pensive French bonnet, and she in
quired the price; she was told it was
sold. “Oh, I had no idea of buying
such an expensive bonnet, said the
lady, upon which the milliner said, “It
is a joint stock bonnet —that is, it be
longs to three factory girls, who wear
it b* tnr* Sunday.”