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VOLUME VI. ASKING a blessing. Ay, but wait, good wife, a minuti; I have fir.J. a word to sav; Do you know what dav to-day is? Mother, ’tis our weddio3-day. Just as now, we sat at supper When the guests had gone away; You sat that side, I sat this side, Forty years ago to-day. Then what plans we laid together; What brave things I meant to do; Could we dream to-day would hud us At this table—me and you. Better so, uo doubt yet I (Sometimes think —I cannot tell— ilnd onr boy-ah yes! I know, and: r, Yes, He doeth all things well Well, we'vo had our joys and sorrows; Shared our smiles a? well as tears; And the best of all, I’ve bad your Faithful love for forty years. Poor we’ve been, but not forsaken; Grief we’ve known, but never shamo; Father, for thy endless inejoies, Still we bless Thy Holy Name. s . . - \ MISCELLAAT. RETRIBUTION; OR THE LOVE OF GOLD. BY T. C. Jf. A man whose age might have been five and-fifty sat in a cosy arm-chair in an old fashioned library. His face was hard and cruel, and bore a strik mg resemblance to the young person who stood at his elbow, and looked over his shoulder upon the mass of jiapers that belittered a writing desk. A casual observer would have pro*' nounced the pair father and son, tor such relation they indeed bore to each other as it was not difficult to sec. Amos Gaston, the elder, had been a ship merchant in one of our large sea board cities, hut had retired to a coun try -seat which had fallen to him by the will of his younger brother James who, with his entire family had been lost on a Liverpool-bound vessel sev eral years prior to the date of our nar rative. It is said that the best sea dealing men breathed fear when the prosperous ship merchant retired, for they called him a scheming rival, and hinted at tricks that were bringing the legitimate business into disrepute. — Aid these tricks were laid secretly at Amos Gaston's door. His son Yoel, a man of thirty-two, retired with him. They shut them selves up, as it were, in the old ho ’se; but they did not remain idle. Day after-day they schemed, invested and schemed again, through agents in the city, until the Gaston coders seemed overflowing with gold. Misd is-liue, everything they* touch* cd seemed to transform itself into wealth. The Gaston .legacy, ns it was called, was a tract of rich land that extended to the lovely banks of the Hudson liv er, and lit for the country retreat of a king. The house was a relict of the days of the Knickerbockers, quaint in style, substantial in structure and roomy as a palace. ‘lt isn't among these papers, though you may look over them if you wish/ said Amos Gaston looking up at his son. ‘lt should be/ was the reply. e l think you ought to take better care of important papers. Don't you know that our peace depends upon the re tension of that document ? I labored a long while upon it, and entrusted it to your keeping, fondly believing that it was safe there. Now see what you have done. Don't lay the fault at my door/" Yoel Gastm was not pleased, as his wards indicated, and his father hit his lip, but did not utter a word in reply. 'lf the will has been stolen, a pretty "Outlook is before me/ Yoel continued tartly. ‘I stand on the eve of mar riage—’ Ilis father started and looked up in such a manner as to interrupt the speaker. 'Going to be married ? You have a business-like manner of making such an announcement/said Gaston ‘I consider it but a matter of busi ness., and treat it as such. We used to contract with Captain Hammerton foi a ship-load of teas. I have con tracted for a wife—that is all.* ‘Truly a business transaction/ Amos Gaston said with a smile. ‘Who is the lady V ‘Miss Stringate/ The ship merchant was on his feet in an instant. ‘Noel Stringate's child ?' ‘Yes/ ‘Yoel, my son, I wish you wonld break the engagement/ the old man said, pleadingly. Noel Stringate and I have been foes for several years. He has poisoned the air about us with sus picion, lor I was his rival years ago in the merchandizing business. He cer tainly has not given his consent to the affair/ ‘lie has, indeed/ was the reply.— ‘Why he seemed eager for its consum mation, which surprised me, as I hap pened to know something of the un pleasantness between you. He is rich and not very far from the grave, and Harriet is an heiress not to bo over looked .' ‘Money, money !' cried Amos Gas ton. ‘While I love to make it, I will forego that pleasure if you will relin quish your suit. There is something behind Noel Stringate’s willingness.— lie is the deepest plotter I have ever known/ 'Deeper than Amos Gaston and son V asked Yoel, rather sarcastical ly'< 'I don't know, but he is a foeman worthy of our steel/ was the answer And so you have promised to marry his daughter ?' ‘Yes, sir ; and what is more I intend to do so/ ‘When ?' ‘Oh, as soon as preliminaries have been perfected/ said the son in a non chalent manner. *l‘ve bought the girl but I shall not press the conveyance of the property. ‘Then there is no love in this mar riage ? ‘I should say not, seeing that Noel Stringale forced his daughter to give up a poor young fellow and listen to me. Amos Gaston, let your mind go back thirty-five years to-cight. Recall your marriage with the woman who gave me birth. You never loved my mother, whom you wedded for the dowery she possessed, and up to the Gay of her death I never saw you give her a smile, much less an affectionate embrace. Your greedy lust for gold took possession of your heart when a boy and it blotted out the finer feel ings of the soul. Now do not growl because 1 am treading in the paths which you have made—because I wor shiped at the gilded altar before which you have knelt and sacrificed to Mam mon for forty years. I have chosen my wife as you chose yours. You looked at the dowery, not the woman; so do I. Harriet Stringate is lovely, but doesn't outshine her gold in a Gaston’s eyes. The time is not far distant when Noel Stringate and your self will touch miserly heads, and plat: how to pile golden dollars mountains high, ‘‘l ca-n't countenance this matcli, Yoel/ the father said, after a moment's silence, 'l which I could, but this does not prevent you from marry ing/ ‘Of coiu se not.’ ‘I knew you would never bring a beggar to the house. Noel Stringate and I need not, of necessity, become friends. That is true—Harriet will get her money, all the same.' ‘Just so. Now shall we take another hunt for the will V ‘I advise it, and let it be a thorough one. This matter causes me no little uneasiness, for it is not absolutely cer tain that every soul on board the Grey Dawn perished. Amos Gaston‘s face grew jdealhiy pale at his son’s which contained a thought that had bothered him before.’ Then father and son examined the papers on after which innu merable ‘pigeon holes’ were rifled of their contents, and drawers peeped into with searching eyes. But the paper which purported to be the last will and testament of James Gas.'on did not reward the hunters, and Yoel Gaston turned suddenly on his heel and left the library with a curse ‘This is very strange V murmured Amos Gaston with a puzzled expres sion of countenance. ‘lt must have been stolen, but by whom ? No per sons save Yoel and myself have bad access to these private papers for five years;; but still the will ? s missing.— And now to add another trouble to the house, that boy is oing to form an alliance with the house of Noel Stringale, a man who never bore me a good feeling since I caus and one of his ships to be sunk in the Malay Archi pelago. Now he is willing that my son shall wed his daughter. lie me? s mething, but I cannot prevent it. I see the storm coming, but cannot fly therefrom. Yoel Gaston, though you are my son, I curse the day that gave you to the world/ If ever a curse came from the heart of man, that one came from the heart of Amos Gaston. He looked like a man on the brink of despair, with mer ciless foes on his track. He parsed the library, giving vent to fearful im precations, many of which were hurl ed at his son, nor did he pause until the door .opened suddenly, and Yoel stood before him. 'Were you calling tne/ he in quired. ‘No/ ‘I certainly heard my name men tioned in a loud tone,’ was the re p’y- For a moment father and son stared into each other's face but did not speak. ‘1 did speak your name/ Amos Gas ton said at last ; ‘but it was coupled with a curse/ ‘Oh, is that all/ sneeied the son.— ‘lf curses do no more harm than your honesty has done l shall snap n?y fin* gers at them. I am going up to the capital. Any messages ?' ‘No. Stay ! you may send Burley, of Burley & Cos., down. ‘Want a lawyer, eh? I can draw up a will for you You know lam an Id hand at the business. Yoel Gaston laughed as he closed the door ; but he heard his father say as he strode off. And your will making is likely to get beta of us into the pouitentiat-y. Then he called aloud : ‘Don'tsend Burley down!' and Yoel passed out. The skeleton beneath the Gaston raof seemed to be causing a great deal of trouble. The dis 00 very that the will of James Gaston was missing was enough to blanch the checks of father and son, who knew that it was forgery, which if discovered would send them to the State Prison. The Grey Dawn, in which James and his family, consisting of wife and daughter, had sailed fm Liverpool, bad been reported lost with all on board, and subsequent informa lion confirmed the report. Then it was the elder Gas ton presented a paper claiming to be a will which his brother had drawn up prior to his sailing, and which gave, in the event of the loss of the testator’s family, during the trip, the beautiful estate on the Hudson to the wealthy ship merchant. The will surprised many people, but as James Gaston possessed no other kin, and as his entire family had been swallowed up by the sea, no objections were made, and the property passed into the forger's hands. For several years the plotting twain had thrived on their ill-gotten gains, and though both were crusty and mean, nothing had occurred to make them at variance with one another till the loss of the will. Living a distance from the ciiy, shut up like a hermit with his money well locked, Amos Gat >n had passed his days. lie seldom walked out to breathe the fresh air, and greet the sunbeams, but sat at his desk, running over files of bills which had brought him money in by-gone years. He did not think it strange that his son Yoel should love money as he did, for he had in herited the insa'iable greed from his father. If Amos Gaston loved his son, it was because he loved gold. The leaves were turning to gold when Harriet Stringate—YoeFs affi anced btidc—fold her* father that the wedding trosseau was finished and had anived i 1 the house. The old man, whose love of money had taken possession of his heart to the exclusion of all other passions save one, desired to see it. The handsome dresses were spread before his eyes and he lifted them iu astonishment. Such an expenditure as it had de manded shocked his guilded heart, and lie turned to his daughter. ‘Pretty, but cost too much money !' he said. ‘Yoel Gaston may repudiate you when he sees it. It speaks of un due extravagance/ ‘lie will not relinquish the bird he has caught/ Haniet said with a smile. There is too much mohey left in the nest. Ikn nv Yoel Gaston.’ EAST3IAN. GEORGIA, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 24, ISTB. And I know both of them/ said the old man, in a tone whicn showed that there was no love between the fami lies. ‘And hate them ? ‘From the bottom of my heart' Harriet was silent for a moment. ‘But that greed of gain over-rules everything, she said at last, and firm ly. ‘Father listen to me a moment.— You know I can never love that cold stein man to whom you have given me, and I have no right to expect af fection ii om him. I say frankly that I do love the man whom you have driv en from our home. With him life would be a paradise, for love would be there ; but with Yoel Gaston, the money lover, the slave to pelf, life would soon become unendurable. Much as I love you, I have wondered why God does not put an end to the life that has made a deity of money. Re consider your determination, and let me put aside these garments; let me wed where T will be happy/ Noel Stringate's face grew dark. ‘No!’he said sternly. ‘I have said that you shall wed Yoel Gaston. Do not talk to me about this matter again until aiier the wedding/ The next moment Harriet was alone and the rich man was walking towards his library with a cunning expression of countenance. ‘lt is putting Harriet to ranch trouble and uneasiness, but she will thank rne after all,’ he said. He retired ‘o his library and wrote a letter which ended as follows : 'The time is near at hand Harriet's wedding trousseau arrived to-day. It is quite handsome. Mr Gaston will consider it in a monetary sense. They do not dream of the coming storm, and the old man has ceased to think of my sunken ship. Be teady when I scud for you. Noel Sti ingate dispatched this let ter from the house by a servant, and then turned to a batch of private pa pers. He was engaged when the letter carrier returned and said : * *The old lady was not very well, but the girl read your letter and told mo to say that they were ready at any time/ Good!’ Noel Stringale exclaimed and returned to his work. Something was afoot, •week was destined to see it end, for the day after this foregoing inc’dent was the bridal day. The wedding was to be very private and take place at the groom’s resi dence at Noel Stringate's request. ‘Why couldn’t the old hater have kept his daughter at home? He knew •hat I would never have crossed his threshold, and now that his plans have succeeded he is determined to cross mine. Ten thousand marriages would not abate a jot of my hatred tor you, old miser/ These words fell from the lips of Amos Gascon when lie learned that the wedding was to fake place under his roof. His sou said nothing, but proceeded with the preparations, aud the day found them complete. It was a beautiful autumn day, and the minister arriving unattended, was greeted by the Gastons. By and by Noel Sirin'rate's carriage deposited his family in the spacious court before the old Knickerbocker mansion, aud for the tirst time in all his life he cross ed its threshold. There a gleam in his eye that told more than his lips had dared to reveal to his daughter, aud it grew intense when Yoel Ga3ton met him iu the cor ridor. ‘Father is slightly indisposed/ said the son. 'He is iu the dining-room, resting. P you would like to see him now— ’ ‘I will!’ said the father of the bride, and Yoel led the way. _ Amos Gviston was seated m the din ing-room, and'the enemies stood face to face. For a moment they-glared at each other, then met and touched hands,and the one said: ‘Nothing can make us friends, Noel. I say this unreservedly.’ ‘Well and good/ was the reply. ‘I would not be your friend for all your money.’ Amos Gaston was startled by the speaker’s look aud tone, and might have replied if the door had not opened suddenly and admitted two persons. 'Good !* mutfeied Noel Stringate.— ‘I knew she would come.’ A pale-faced woman, clad in deep black, and sorrowful of countenance, strode forward. She cai t ied a cane, for there was a slight limp in her gait. Amos Gaston's eyes were invited upon her, aud he presented a picture of frozen horror Ilis son seeing the awful look sprang to his side as the visitor suddenly exclaimed; ‘You recognize me, Amos Gaston? Sot row apd ship wreck have not de stroyed all the traces of your brother’s wiffi. I come for that which is Anne’s and mine!' and she glaoced at the girl who knelt at Harriet Stringate's feet. •My friend, Noel Siringate, possesses the wilhwhich you and your son forged. Is that not eno hto convibt you ? When you placed one of your old ships at onr disposal, you know it was a ro ten hrlk, built io sink. I see the brand of guilt on your face. The ay of * tribution has come!' Guilty and white, Amos Gaston could not move. He knew tnat the woman was his brother's wif°, and at last in the der peraiion of the moment, he flashed tT eyes upon Noel Stringale, and mut tered : 'This is your work I’ ‘lt is indeed ! You sank one of my trading ships twenty years ago, and I have l/ded my time for vengeance Your brother’s v ile and daughter came to my door several months ago, but 1 secreted them orn your sight. I wanted your son to seek my child's liand—l wanted to get him upon the threshold of coffers, that my blow, when it come, should crush him as well as you. Tins is my icveuge, Amos Gaston. My child not marry your sou if he owned the wealth of the Indies. Harriet Siringate looked up into her falker‘s face, as if she could not credit the evidence of her senses. But Noel was in terrible earnest. The revengeful blow had crushed the Gastons, and the people along the Hudson tell to-day how the penitenti ary severed them from their gold, much of which was ill-gotten stolen wealth. The Gaston legacy reverted to its rightful owners, and Noel Stringate told his daughter, that he had used her as an instrument of revenge, and smil ingly bade her marry the young man of heart’s choice. Tins she did, and the old man open ed his heart at the wedding so that the liebuess of the least was a thing of wonder. \one Gaston wasone of the happy guests, and soon afterwards be came a bride herself. It was through Noel Stringale that the forged will was stolen trom the Gaston library, aud it helped to swing doors behind father and son. Severe Examiner—What is a moun tain? First Student —An elevation of ground. S E—Well, what do two mountain's form? F S—The beginning of a chain of mountains. S E—They don't; they form a val ley. You can stand dow. Your ig norauce would make an idict blush. (To Second Student) —What is a mountain? S S—An elevation of ground. S E —Well, what do two mountains make? S S—A valley. S E—No they don't; the} 7 make the beginning of a chain of mountains. You are a g oose of the first water. (Plucks both.) Pine shingles dipped into boiling lime-water will last much longer, I have found, than when used without this prepai ation. Dip the bundles-} and your ioof will not be mossy or mouldy. —Peter Smith, Alliance, 0. The housewife who didn't put up any preserves can’t visit a single neigh - bor now without being asked to step into the store-room and behold the array of sweetness. This is the season when the girl, whose stern father has kicked her lov er out-doors, packs up a few things, writes an eight page letter to her mother, drops a clothes-line from her chamber window, and at midnight, when silence reigns, raises the sash, sees how* dark it is, and—jumps into bed as fast as she can. An Alban}* urchin who has no head for figures, the other day off red one of his school-fellows a big apple and a jam turnover if he would do his sums for him this term. The offer was de clined, the bt-le man to whom it was teudeied remarking that he had not yet reached the hire mathematics. The Marria e of Great Men* Robert Bums married a farm girl, with whom he fell in love while they worked together in a plowed field. lie was irregular in his life, and commit ted the most irious mistakes in his domestic life. Milton ma ied the daughter of a country squire and lived with her but a time. He was an austere literary recluse, while she was a rosy romp ing country lass, who could uot endure the restraint imposed upon her, so they separated. Subsequently, however, she returned, and they lived tolerably happy. Queen Victoria and Prince Albert were cousins and about the only cx> ample in the line of English monarchs wherein the marital vows were sacred ly observed, and siucere affection ex isted. Shakespeare loved and wedded a farmer’s daughter. She was faithful to her vows, but we could hardly say the same of the bard himself. Like most of the great poets he showed too little discrimination in bestowing his affections on the other sex. Washington married a woman witli two children. It is enough to say she was worthy of him and they lived as married people should live—in perfect harmony with each other. John Adams married the daughter of a Presbyterian clergyman. Her father objected on account of John be ing a lawyer, lie had a bad opinion of the morals of the piofession. John Howard, the great philanthro pist, married his nurse. She was al togethsr beneath him in social life and intellectual capacity, and, besides tins, was fifty-two years old, while he was but twenty-five, lie wouldn’t take No fur an answer, so they were mar ried and lived happily until she died, which occurred two years afterwards. Peter the Great of Russia married a peasant. She made an excellent wife and a sagacious Empress. Humboldt married a poor girl be cause he It ved her. Of course they were happy. It is not generally known that Jack son married a lady whose husband was still living. She was an uneduca ted but reliable woman, and was most devoutly attached to the old warrior and statesman. John 0 Calhoun mairied his cousin, and their children, fortunately, were neither diseased nor idiotic; but they "lid not evince the talent of the great State's right advocate. About Babies. Different countries have different methods of dealing with their young. The Greenland baby is dressed in furs, and carried in a sort of pocket in the back of the mother’s cloak. When she is very busy and does not want to be bothered with him, she digs a hole in the snow and covers him all up but his face, and leaves him there until she is ready to take care of him again. The Hindoo baby hangs in a basket fiom the roof, and is taught to smoke long before lie learns to walk. Among the Western Indians the poor lit tie tots are tied fast to a board and have their heads flattened down by means of another board fastened down over their foreheads. In Lima the lit tle fellow lies all day in a hammock, swung from a tree top, like the baby in the nursery song. In Persia he is dressed in the most costly silks and jewels, and his head is never uncover ed. day or rnght, while in Yucatan a p-'ir of sandals and a straw hat are thought to be all the clothing he needs. The good man slammeth the gate and bangeth the door and maketh a noise, for his heart is without guile and he feareth not the giievous words of his wife; but man shut teth the gate softly and stealeth up stairs in his stocking feet, and slom bleth over the rocking-chair, and the last condition of that man is worse than the first. A young fellow in San Francisco suddenly snatched a kiss from a lady friend, and excused himself by saying that it was a sort of temporary insan ity that now and then came upon him. When he arose to take his leave the pitying damsel said to him, ‘lf you ever feel any more such fits come right here, where your infirmity is known, and we will take care of you ' Dr. Lovick Pierce is 94 years old— sleeps well, and has not taken a drink of water in five years. A cold in the head is apt to leas! to blows. As wall papers come down m price they go up on the walls. — Remember Lot's wife, and avoid letting anything turn your head, A short horse is soon curried, but a mule, short nr long, will kick you into the next county. Some lawyers might become great if they would be content with oue ad mittance to the bar. ♦ The washer-woman's motto is ‘soap on, soap ever,' but sometimes she changes it to ‘slop on, slop over.' ♦ . Joint debate—The one held between the heads of the house on whether this piece of stove-pipe will fit that. —— • T I he man who married an incorrigi gible shrew declared to a friend that he had contracted a dangerous scold. An exchange asks: ‘What shall we do with the girls?' Why, do the fair thing by one of them, and give tho other fellows a chance with the rest. An Arkansas constable's pistol be ing stolen, he advertises that if tho thief would return it he would givo him the contents, and no questions asked. An enterprising lowa man has nam ed his daughters Time and Tide, so Iney will wait for no man, and have got a first moitgage on matrimony to begin with.— Is there a scientific man in the coun try who can tell, after a sock gets a hole in it, what becomes of the mate rial that once took the place of tho aperture? A Frenchman has discovered sever ty kinds of whale. Most of us have known but a single whale, and can never separate it from the old limo seb oolmaster. ♦ ♦ . Three daughters of a Kentuckian de termined to be married the other day, and iheir father refusing to approve their resolve, they ah eloped with tho men of their choice the same night. Only in Kentucky do they i such things in this wholesale manner. In ah account of a large funeral in Boston la ely, the writer remarked that “reserved seats were filled bv mourners during the rites/' Judge of his astonishment upon reading what the printer had transformed the sen tence into. “Preserved meats w*ero spilled by mourners during three fights.” The Virginia Cify Chronicle is led to believe that the chronic borrowers 'are getting sharper every day. ‘Have you change for ss?' asked one out ther . Certainly, ’ said an innocent looking fellow, who pulled out a handrul of silver. ‘Thun loan me $2.00/ said the other Without a tremor in his voice, and he nailed the coiu right there. A Medford individual was saunter ing home the oilier night, near the three church clocks of that classic vil lage. Suddenly the £voice of time sounded in his typanum and went on with regular strokes until the three clocks had followed each other in suc cession. Bracing himself up defiantly he ejaculated: ‘Thirty-six o’clock! Keep on. I’ve been out l iter than that!' A grey hair was espied among tho raven locks of a charming young lady. ‘Oh, pray pull it out!’ she exclaimed. ‘lf I pull it out, ten more will come to the funeral,' replied the one who made the unwelcome discovery. ‘Pluck it out, nevertheless,’ said the dark-haired damsel; ‘it's no consequence how mar ny come to the funeral, provided th r all come in black.' NO. 43.