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F. It. FILDES, Editor. VOL. HI. Ihc (Quitman ganncv. EVGKY FRIDAY. of subscription. For ono year - For hlx month? •• • -** For three months 1 O'* For slugla copy 1,1 TEB MS FOR ADVERTISING. IXVAItUIII.Y IN AIIVINCK. One square, (10 line*, or less,) 11.-t inserticn *2.00; each luHowing insertion, *1 When a.lveitisements are continurU for one month or longer, liu' chavge will be us foilov. s : 12 Mynth*. j: G Month*.!- | 3 Months. 1 Month. I Number | of | Squares. | 1 j $ 5 00 1 $lO 00 j$ 15 00 $ 20 00 2 * 800 ■ 15 00 I 25 00 35 00 s ! \>oo j is oo I 35 (»o 45 oo 4'’. .. I hi 00 I 24 (to j -10 00 63 00 & I 20 00 j 35 00 | 15 00 (0 00 i CoFuial 35.00 I «.'» 00 I 80 00 12<| 00 1 •• : 60 00 I 80 00 j no 00 200 oo Obituary notices, Tribute* <»l ih>|»ect, and all article* of ft peisoual character, charged lor «i* tilvertfocmenl*. For announcing candidate* for office, SIO.OO poetical THE i’UAYER OFTIIE IJETIIOTIIEH. A lade in the St. T*«»uU Vniort, over the sig nature ot • In«leX," portrays her thouglits in the following beautiful verse*, on the eve ol her mar riage: Father, I come before Thy Throne, With 1 H t* aid bended knee, „To (hank Thee wnil a grateful tune, For all thy love to me. Forgive me if my heart this hour, I give not all to Thee, For deep ulFectloii'a mighty power Divides it now with Thee. Thou kno west Father, every thought, 'Hint wuketh in my breast. Ami -low this heart has vainly sought, To keep its love suppressed. Yet w hen the idol worshiped one, Sits fondly by my side, And breathes the tow l cannot shun, To me, his destined bride Forgive me if the loving kiss Hi* Uav is upon my lm w Istboughi ol in an hour like this, And ih: .Us me even now; An i omlorter through life, Eilat" me, oh God, to prove V ioviug, faitlitui w iter lie knows not. Father, all the deep Alloc lion l - mirol. The tUonsami loving thntigUa that sweep Resist tens o'er my “»U.^ Jit* know s not Jrom each fount of love 'i tiitt gushes warm and tree* Nm* can lie ever, ever prove ii\ warm idolatry. The:, guard him. Father! round his way, iliy choic«*st blessings cast; Ami render each succostive day Ftill happier thau the last. And. Father grant us to live, That whi n this life iso’ev. Within the happy home you give, We It meet to part no moie. “THE AGKIF" BY A . POF7T. Once upon an ev eiling bleary, While 1 sat me, dreamy, dreary, In the sun-hiue thinking q or Things that pa* « lays rs yore; While I nodded, near!; sleeping. fJenily came a something creeping Fp my back 1 iL• * water seeping, rivepiug upward Ironi the floor} ••’Tin a cooliug bree/e, :: 1 muttered, “From the regions ’neath the floor - Only this, and nothing more.” Ah ! distinctly I remember. It was in that wet September \\ hen the earth, and every member Ol crew itm tUat it bo e, Had for weeks and weeks been seeking. All along my back the creeping. Soon gave place tc rushing, leaping, As it countless frown demons Had concluded to explore All the cavities the varments Twixt we and my nether garments, Up into ray hair, and downward Through my boots into the floor; Then 1 felt myself a shaking, Gently shaking more and more Every moment more and more. ’Twas the Ager, and it shook me Into heavy clothes and took me Shaking to the kitchen—every Place where tb«*re was warmth in store; Shaking till the “china” rattled, Shaking til! my molars rattled, Shaking, and w ith ail my wanning Feeling cokler than before; Shaking till it had .exhausted All its power to shake more - Till it could uot shake me more. Then it rested till the morrow. When it came with all the horror That it had the face to borrow, Shaking, shaking as before, And from that day in September Day which I shall long remember, It Cuts made diurnal visits, Shaking, shaking oh. so sore ! Shaking off my boots and shaking ; • to bed if nothing more— F inly this, if nothing more. And to day the swallows flitting Round my cottage, see mu sitting Moodily within the sunshine, J,ist inside my silent door. Waiting for the Ager seeming Dike a man forever dreaming. And thv sunlight on u.e streaming rflied no shadow on the floor; For I :tm too thin and sallow To make shadows on the floor— Nary shadow any more! ‘Ah rue,’ said a pious lady, ‘<mr minis ter was a powerful preacher, for the short time lie ministered t he wold of God among ns, he kicked three pulpits to pieces and handed the .oiiards out ot five bibles.’ n MistdUmccmo. V IL, A STWLE IN Till! DARK. A heat v gale was blowing front the southwest, furiously tossing the broad waters- f the l’ueifie, and driving- the j foam in misty 11 ikes over the crests oi i the roaring waves. The moon occasionally emerging from behind the clouds roiling in lorn masses ; over the sky, would for t moment light the vast wilderness of the ocean; reveal ing the summits of the t iwering seas and faintly lighting the walciy caverns be tween . Our ship—the St. Mark—rolled heavi ly as she l>oomcd upon her way under : close reefed top ShiU and topmast stay sail. l-'ote and aft her timbers groaned j like dying men while her three tail masts jerking and straining seemed on the point of going by the board. Crouching behind the windlass to es- | cape a drenching sea, that suddenly burst over the weather bulwarks, i lottiid my self by the side of Arhok—a tall, sttpie i native with shoulders and breast as bioud as those of a lion, and long Ilexi— | i ble arms, the latter of u liich did me good I service ; lor had not the owner tl row j them around my body, I should certaiu | |y Inive been swept overboard, “A thousand thunks ! ’ I gratefully ex I claimed when the danger was past, ''toil j have saved my life !” | “Yes,” answered the Malay-—for such , .he Wits —“me have saved your lib*, but , ;me quick take him if you no promise to i jsay tmlhiug of the mutt whose head me , brake wilh cuopet’s hammer! 1 “What!” 1 gasped, staling upon him | with amazement. "V\ hat and r you mean? You at e jesting !” i The eyes of ill : native Hashed like those of a serpent 1 could see his white i teeth gleaming in the darkness like a 1 dotted chalk line on a blackboard. “Yes, me jest,” hi exclaimed, laughing | I but it struck me that the laugh was somewhat forced—“me only make tun; so me will say ii > more about it.” lie clutched my amt as he spoke, and peering inn. my face with his black eyt s probably read there the sudden suspicion which his singular manner hud really j excited in my mind. •vt. f !>., almost shrieked, duelling mo ;by the throat . t me you ! no say a word about de murder and 'me i let. you go. If not, 1 serve you de sane- I way, and then throw you overboard, tool’ "Admit,” 1 calmly answered, pushing his band from my throat, “you know tin j too well to hope to get a gloat proton e j from me by means ot a threat. I know i nothing and now only have your words for it of your having killed your enemy, i the Kanaka, and—” “Alt ! how you know who, if you not seo me do ii t How yon know it was j the Kanaka that me kill ! ’ ‘I conclude so (Yoiti your having fought w:!h him yesterday in the forecastle and Ihi ha vi ng heat - ’ “He never 1 < it me—Repose my foot not have slipped !’’ interrupted Acimk, grinding his teeth, “lie strike me many tones while me down; and me r w< ar me i take Ids life. Well now so much having ; been said me may as well say till Me I have taken his life. Me struck him down ! with cooper’s hammer and threw his j be- tv overboard, just before you come . belt: I the windlass.” ‘ I though! 1 heard a groan as I come forward,” 1 answered, “hut 1 supposed 1 might have been mistaken. This is hoi - j Hide Aehok, pet feetly horrible ; and 1— ’ : “Promise ! Promise, you !” lie inter rupted impatiently. “Ale have saved your life anc! so you should be willing not to get me hanged." Before he coo Id reply however, he seemed to have concluded to act accor ding to the adage that “dead men tell no tales,” for he again grasped me by : the throat, and raising his kudo would : certainly have plunged it into my bosom il l had hot knocked it from his grasp | bv a heavy blow upon his wrist. I *A desperate struggle now- ensued be tween us, and, as lie was the stronger i party, he soon contrived te bint me upon my buck. Putting both knees upon my : breast, he clasped my threat with his I skinny] hands and I believed my doom ! was scaled. The horrible pains of sub location were beginning to reach my throat j and brain, when a sudden roll ol 1 the ship caused tnv tormentor to fall up jon his side. With it powerful exertion I contrived to loosen myself from his ’ clasp,! and I then sprang to my feet. Quick as lighting his arms were now thrown! around me from behind, and in : spite off all resistance on my part, I was borne to the Ire bulwarks. A ith ins wonderful strength lie lifted nte as I might have lifted a child, and to my hor ror I lulled myself suspended over the foaming cauldron of water that raged a longside oi the careening ship I shout led for help, but my shipmates unfortu nately were in the after part of the ve.s i set, and could not hear my voice above the din of the storm. “Now, then,” yelled the native, “away you go —cursed white man : “Head men tell no talcs ! ’ He let me go as he|spoke,’A>nt I clutch ed at a rope that hung over the bulwarks i and notwithstanding bis efforts to shake rue ftom it, I clung to it with a tenacity natural under the circumstances. The Malay fairly screamed with rage, and suddenly I saw a knife HEAE SHALL THE PRESS THE PEOPLE'S RIGHTS MAINTAIN, UNAWED BY FEAR AND UNBRIBED BY GAIN. QUITMAN, GKO., SKITK.MIIKIi 18, 18(58. gleam tig in lis linm!. lie raised it a liove the rope and my heart sank within me. 1 could not mis: aim his fiendish in tent it'll of cutting the strand. “I will die like a man !” 1 muttered ; “aiu! may God take care of my wife and children 1” ! Bat even as 1 spoke, the ship rolled: her bulwarks under; and the Malay, who h,.d incautiously leaned over them while holding his knife suspended, fell l.ead j Img into the dar k stormy waters, and: was carried, shrieking, far away IVutii the ship to leeward. Seizing the rail, 1 regained the deck, and hastening aft, 1 related my story to my shipmates, whose astonishment may bej imagined and who united in congrat ulating me Upon my escape. “1 never liked the looks oi ( that Malay’ | said an old tar; “and though 1 ain’t in’ tin; habit of speaking disrespectfully ol the dead, it’s my opinion that the chap has met with his just deserts for murder ing the K anaka. ’ TRAGEDY UK INDIAN HIKE. Tim following story, from the Milwaukee II"*- j rnt'siii. reads like a nmmnoe of Cooper's eon-, dciiseil, but, i* sai I to he a record of facta gather- I e,l by a gentleman who is cnlleeiiny material for j a history of the upper Mississippi Valley: ,\ parly of thirty Winnehagoes came j down from the scalp dance at, which the tribe was gathered on the Trcmpeleuu River, in the North, and encamped on French Island, in the Mississippi River, just above the St. Paul’s Railroad depot J at Ha i rosso. The hand was under the control of a | well known chief of the Winnehagoes named V’un-Uee-see-lmong or-cr, or Snake Chief, who had two wives, Se es ka and line nee keo. Se-cska was about thirty years ot age, graceful in appearance, with a p easant look and an interesting face. With whites she was a favorite, while with |jtlie Winnebngoes she was i looked upon very kindly—indeed, adored j with all the ardor of Indian fervor. Snake , Chief was a warrior of the Winnehagoes and was very much liked by his tribe.— lie was a powerful arid brawny fellow, | nud when sober was peaceful and good ’ outlin'd ; when drunk lie was ugly ami ! disagreeable. One of his favorite pas times when in this condition was beating his wives. On Friday last SnakeJGhief returned to j his wigwam drunk. Se es ka was in the i wigwam, and tlm chief commenced bent .../, -—it... bo..ii mi,il shoulders. —: ] Driven to desperation, and unable longer to stand his brutali y she drew her knife | and slabbed the chief twice the blade ; , penetrating the heart of the warrior, who ,|ied instantly, while the firstprotes of the I death song were on his lips. The afluir at on up created a sensation among the j Waiinebugoos, who did not know how to j net. They lined their chief and : v loved their chieftains wife. It is a 'Veil j known “regulation” among the Indians ] i that when a man is slain, a relati ve inust j avenge his death by taking the life ol ! I lie slayer. 8e es-ku knew this. Some of j the bngi.es urged her to fly, but : she would not With line Indian resig i nation, she folded her blanket about lioi and sat down in her wigwam, lacing thej door, and awaited her avenger. It was) believed by. many that lie nee-kee, tin young and favorite wife, would be thej avenger, but she seemed to have no such j intention. She mourned the loss of her husband, but took no steps farther than j to send a runner up the Trembclca n ! where Snake Chief’s relatives were, to notify them of what, had taken place.- M can while, Se-es-ka . .it in her cabin,j j ehanling the death song stoically, indil : fe,ent to what was going on about her, and only talking when questions were asked In r. On Sunday morning, an Indian from j Trempelean made Ins appearance in j camp. He was known as (Jhan-iio-iie ga and had evidently traveled without hal- j ting since he learned the death of Snake Chief. Entering the camp without a word he walked solemnly to the place where the hotly of Snake •Cli'el lay, took j a | on g lock at it, and then turned sullen ly away. Nobody spoke to him, all watched with interest his movements. j Deliberately loading his gun with buck j shot, lie uuiiiterruptedfy walked deliber ately to the wigwam where Sees ka sat, she having remained there since tire niurj dor and took one look at the woman who ! loudly chanted the death song. Not a; muscle of the woman's face moved, to . denote that she labored under any ex eit. incut, but she sat tlicie quietly and calmly her eyes moving upwards, and her voice ns the uncouth song escaped j her lips steady and firm. She knew the avenger was b fore her—that in another t moment her spirit would leave the ltail tenement of clay and seek that of the j chief who had gone before her; yet no look or sign indicated that sue feared the fate. Such is ludiau stoicism and indif ference. The eyes of the two did not meet. In ! the face of Chan-no ne-ga there was a 1 l„„k of mingled hate and rvvenge- De liberately he raised his musket to his I shoulder —deliberately lie aimed it at ! the woman’s head—cooly he fired. Ihe | report rang out through the Indian camp —the smoke cleared away—Se-es ka still ! sat there —her blanket a bout her her 'arms folded—but one s.-.c of her head was completely away—her sp tit had | fled and the code of Indian justice was j satisfied —Wan kee-se-ho ng-er-er was a venged. j The murderer, with just a look to sat isfy him that his work had been well done shouldered his musket and walked delib erately out of the camp. Nobody spoke | to him- nobp.!y ‘dr.-red any interference, | and stepping into his canoe lie paddled to shore and disappeaied in the woods, leaving the NYium lingoes stupefied. THE WORLD OWES ME A LIVING. This is one of Iho vile stereotyped falsehoods that loafers and roughs of nil sorts of use as an apology for their lazi ness and oilier rascalities. The Jeremy ditldler who sponges on society comforts himself w.th the idea that he is only getting some of the debt which the world owes him. The thief sometimes intimates that in helping himself out of somebody’s t 11, he was nictely taking his own. It was a j part of the debt uncaucellcd that society j that enormous bankrupt—had refused to pay. | Tile whole theory is I also and fraudu lent. The rule is the reverse. We owe j the world an upright life, and i t return j the world will give us a living. The lounger about the grogshops, or J other places of loafing, may told his: mines in idleness, under the consolation ; of being so large a cteditor; tmt wo will j just tell lorn the world will pay him tllli-j mutely. It will square off with an in j stalment of hunger, provco ly ami con tempt, degradation, and the almshouse. | It will give him rich dividends ot scorn j and starvation, and finally pay him in lull with six feet of earth in the pauper’s grave. Perhaps as he goes along, he will receive occasionally payments “on account,” by generous orders on the county jail or State Prison. In ttieAat ler uluee we believe the world throws in anew suit ot clothes of beautifully variegated colors. Our advice to young men is to trust to their two good hands, their bruins, tlicir industry, and their honesty torn living. V\ it It such aids—strong sell re liance, backed by indomitable persever ance—-there arc ’ but a few indeed who fail of reaching the goal el which they aim. The world is full of glorious illustra tions of litis truth. Wo see young men rise from obscurity end poverty to tvpu tution and wealth, and we wonder how ' they get along so well. It seems a mys j tery, but the whole mystery lies in qual j ilieations above named. lh ;l 3 com— j menco t ight, and they continue right and lUiw 1 ■ 'ut-l't- If ,ve mark the history ot such a man, jwe shall invariably find that he has ! been a hard worker ami caretul mana ger. He has looked alter the spiggol as ] well as the Lmugholo of his lm moss. — He has husbanded his earnings, and add led them to his Capital, instead of leaving 1 hem all at the box cilice of the theatres I or wi anier them upon Ids back, or pour j ing them down tiis throat. I °\Vo said he was a hard worker. That i we appended, is the great difficulty with jhe loafer, lb; would bn perfectly wil- I lin ,r no doubt, to hold the -hat tl plot i* deuce Would shower gold into it; or ii it ! would rain roast beef, he would have a | platter ready to catch it. But to work, and work hard—“there’s the ruh. ’ Let fortune ■ time to him in any other shape than that. But, young man, work it must be— work, work, work. It was designed from beginning that man should earn I ids broad, not by loafing, but by the I sweat of his brow. Those drops the in- Illustrious man coins into the golden j mint drops that tills his coll rs. ‘Tin-; Wickedest Man in New \oitit.’-- John Allen, of whom so much lots been , I said and wiittetQof late, lias created a j new sensation by closing his dance I house and transforming it into a Magda len asylum. Allen closed his place at I midnight on Saturday, and announced I that it would never be opened again ex cept lor religious purp me. A esterday | morning the following announcement ’ was pasted oil the door of No. 304 Wa ter street. ‘This dance-house is closed ! No gen tlemen admitted unless accompanied by their wives, who wish to employ Magda- Icns as domestics. ‘John Ac.i.en.’ In the afternoon Allen attended the Sunday school and meeting at the How ard Mission, when the fact that the dance house had been closed was publicly an nonnecd. Allen made a speeca, in the cmt.so of which he said that lie hai abandoned the (lance-house business for ever, and intended to devote the remain dor of his life to doing good. In the evening a prayer meeting was held at Allens house in Watei street.— The bar-room was filled with abandoned 1 men and women who live in tiic neigh borhood, and although many were into •- ! ieated, good older prevailed. Mr. Oliver Dyer, Rbv. Mr- Van Meter, of the How ard Mission, Mr. Arnold and Allen made remak). Hymns were also sung. Tim speakers made their addreses fioni he- I hind the bar, the audience being seated at tables wliicli had been placed in the I centre (.1 the dancing room. The street in front of Allens place was crowed with pickpockets, loafers, bur iglars, bullies and dog fighters, l'romi nent among the latter class were ‘Kit Burns and ‘Dele’ Coleman. The refor mation of Alleu was of course the chief lonic of conversation. Hi* course was I commended by all, and none expressed ■ doubts of his sincerity. A prayer meet iny- will be held ut;noon to-day and dai- ly It 'leafier. 'This :s probably the first instance in which a man who kept n house of ill- j fame until 12 o'clock midnight, begun to j exhort sinners to repentance the next; morning. But \v<; live i t rapid times— j Paul, the aposlile, lived three years in ictircinent allet lit; ceased to persecute ; the Christians. But Paul lived in a slow j age. —New York .Post, A BABY’S SOLI LOQP Y. 1 am here. And if this is what they j call the world, 1 don’t think much ol it. i it’s a flamiolly world and smells of pare- j gorie awfully. It’s a dreadful light j world, too, and makes me blink, 1 tell! you, And 1 don’t know'what to do with my hands; I think I'll dig my list in tity j eyes. No, 1 won’t. I'll scrabble at the j corner of my blanket ami chew it up, i and then I’ll holler. And the more pare goric they give me, the loader I’lU'yell.— j That old nurse puts the spoons in thej corner of my mouth in a very uneasy j way, and keeps tasting my nttlk herself all the while. She spilled snuff in it last night and when 1 hollered she trotted ,me. That comes <>( being u two day's old ba by. Never t tind, when I'm a man, I’ll pay her back pood. There's a pin stick ing in now, and if 1 say a word about it I’ll be trotted, or fed, ami 1 would rather have catnip tea. I’ll tell yen who 1 am. 1 found out to-day. 1 heard the folks say, ‘ flush, don’t wake up Einclino’s ba by,” and 1 suppose that pretty, white laced woman over on the pillow is Eme lilte. No, 1 was mistaken, for a chap was in ' here just now, and wanted to see Bob’s j baby, and looked at me, and said I was 1 “a hinny little toad and looked just like Bob ” He smelt ol cigar, and I'm not j used'to them. I wonder who else 1 he-1 long In. Yes there’s another one Iliads "Granina.” Emelino told me, and she took me up, and held me against Iter soft check, and said “It's Granina's baby | it was.” I declare, 1 do not know who 1 i belong to, but I’ll holler and may be I'll find out. There comes snuffy with catnip tea. — The idea of giving babies Catnip ten when they are crying for information ! I'm going to sleep, 1 wonder if 1 don’t look pretty red in the luce? 1 wonder why my hands won’t go where 1 want j them to ? HOME POLITENESS. Should an acquaintance tread on your | dress, your best, your very best, and by accident tear, Imw prnluse yon are with “your never minds- -don’t, think ol it—l | dont care at all.” If a husband does it, j he gets a frown ! if lie is a child lie gets j chasl ised. Alt 1 these are little things, sav yon ! | They tell mightily on the heart, let us j assure yen, little as they are. A gentleman stopped at a friend’s j house, and finds it in cm.lns on. “He { don’t see anything - to apolgizo for—tiev 'or thicks of such matters—every tiling ; is till right”—fold supper—cold room — i crying children-—perfectly coml’or'table. Goes home, his wife li>s been taking I care ol the sick ones, and worked her I tile almost out. “Don't see why things ! can’t he kept in better order—there were : never such cross children before.” No | apoligies except away from home. Why riot he polite at home 1 Why j not use freely the golden coin of collide i sy *f 'llow sweet they sound, those little ! winds, “1 thank you,” or “A .tl are very | kind.” Double, yes thrice, sweet front ! ,e lips wo love, when heart smiles make J lli- eye spathic with the clear light of a. j lection. Be polite to your children. Do you expect them to be mindful of your wel fare ? To grow glad at your approach ? To bound away to do your pleasure be fore your request is half spoken ? Then with all your digni'y and uuthoiity min j gle politeness. Give it a niche in your ] household temple. Only then will you I have the true secret of sending out into ! the world really finished gentlemen and | ladies. * Again we say unto all—be polite. A Maiden's Love. —Unman nature hit !no essence more pure—the vo Id knows j nothing more chaste—heaven lias endow id the mortal heart with none, holier, than the nascent, affection ol a young I vifrin's soul. Tim warmest language of the sunny south is too cold to shadow I forth even a faint outline of that enthti- I siastic sentiment. And God has math I the richest language poor in the satin respect, because the depth of hearts that. J thrill with love’s emotions are too sacred for the common contemplation. The mu I sical voice of love stirs the source of the (sweetest thoughts within the human breast and steals into the profound re cesses of the soul, touching cords which I never v bra ted before and culling into ! gentle companionship delicious hope til : i lien unknown j Yes the light of a young maiden’s first love brea s dimly but . beautifully upon her, as the luster of a .[. ll' glimmers through a thickly wovet bower ; and the first blush that mantles : her chock, as she feels the primal in flu i unco is faint and pure as that which a i roselcaf might cast upon marble. Bn how rapidly does that light grow stroi ger and that flash deeper until the ppw J erf til effulgence of the one irradiates ever} i corner of her heart, and the crimson ; glow of the other suffuses every featun i of Iter countenance I 00 per Annum NO. 82 All <>!(! gentleman whose Style win <;t rmaniz«m 1 wus asked wImV lie thought of signs aml mums. "Veil, I don’t dinks mooch of deni' dine - , mid 1 don’t pcliove avoidings: Imt 1 dolls you s<>niedirnes dere is somedings in Root'll dings ash [d- RC dings. Now do odor night I sit mid road mine news paper, mid mint! Iran she shpeuk und say: ‘ Fritz, do dog ish howling.” ‘Veil, 1 don l dinks mooch of dom dings, mid I goos on und reads mine pa per, mid miim ('ran she say: ‘Fritz, dor ish somedings pad ish hair pen d—do dog ish howling.’ ‘Und don I gets oop mil mineselt m il looks out. iron do wines an do porch, mid tie moon was shiiiin, mid, mine lectio tl- g tie siioomp rigilt up mid clown like aver ydings, mid ho park at do moon, dat vas shine so do vindor, do old roman slier say-: •Mind, Fritz, I dolls you dare ish some pad ish happen. De dog ish houi— ing.’ ‘Veil, I goos to pot nnd 1 shloeps, mid all night long von 1 rakes up dare van dat dog howling vi rser ash never. Und in do morning 1 kits oop and kits mino breakfast, mid mino frau she look at mo mid say worry soliimn: ‘FI it/,, dere ish somedings pad ish hap pen. l)e dog vas howl all night.’ ‘Und shoost den tie newspaper come in, und 1 opens him—mid by sliings, vot yon dinil.s '! dan: vas a man dint in Phil adrlphia- Advaktaok or Ykahs.—-You arc getlfng into yoais. Yes, but tlic years are get -1 ing into you—the ripe, rich years, the genial mellow years the lusty, luscious years. One by one the crudities of your youth arc falling off from you, (he vani ty, the egotism, the instillation, the be— wildoinient, the uncertainty. Nearer and nearer yon are approaching yourself You are const.lidaiing your lorccs. You : are becoming' master of your situation', | On the ruins of shattered plans yon find I your vantage ground. Your broken | hopes, yi nr thwarted purposes, your de- I lea led aspirations, became a stiff ot strength by which you mount to subli me!-heights. With soli possession and self command of all things, the title deoil of e> cation foi foiled, is reclaimed. Tho king - has come to Ins own again, i'.arth I and sea, and sky pour out tlicit; large | ness of love. All the crowds pass down to lay its treasure at your loot . Whom nr. ltr.ui.NDi:i) Unit or.—Artemus Ward once hud an .adventure in Boston, which resulted as follows: I returned in the boss curt part way. A pooty girl 111 spectacles sat near me, and was tell in a young man how much he reminded her ol a young man she used to know in Waltham. Booty soon tlie young man got out, and smiling in a seductive man ner, 1 said to the girl in spectacles; Bout I remind you of someone you use to know ? 'Yes,'she said 'you do remind me of one man, but ho was sent to tho penitentiary for stealin a barrel of mackera!; ho died there, so 1 coucUmkl you ain't him.’ 1 didn’t pursue the con versation. A conductor on a Connecticut railroad passed tree a poor penniless chap recent ly. An officer of the road in the sumo ear called him to account, “I pass him/ said the man of tickets, "because lie’s a conductor on the railroad.” ‘‘lie a conductor ! Why, what makes him dress so shabbily ?’ "Oh, lies trying to. live on his salary,” was the quick reply'. ! Professor Henry, in the meeting of tho i \eadcmy of Science at Hartford sp- k | ing of the electric spark said he "could judge better of the duration of the -parte when seen perpendicularly than li'.oiz-m --tally.'’ Wtieu it appeared in print it read : "lie could better judge of the duration of the squash when seen per pendicularly than horizontally.” That is equal in Mr. Burlingame's eloquent allu sion to the “granite shaft” on Banker Hill —but which was printed the “grog shop” on Uunker Hill. A young laity advertised for ft dress ing maid. Oue applied and ill response u> inquiry it she was quick, she leplied: Oil !so quick, that 1 Will engage to dress you every day m half an hour.” ‘ln half an hour!” reiterated the young lady; ‘and what shall 1 do the rest ol the Ilr.m to the Gbkbk Thr-ink. —An heir to the Greek throne, child ol Queen O'gn was born at Athens August 2d last and hi lim same day received the name ot Constantine Henry Demosthenes, amidst great rejoicing's. The joy of the people it ilie birth of the piiuee is represented to be unbounded, sueli an event not hav ng be I ore occurred within tour centuries fire Queen Olga is the daughter Ot the irand Dutchess Alexandra ot Russia who •villi her two sons G rand Dukes Alexis md Nicholas, were present at tiie chris .Cilillg. There is an oiiecdote told somewhere of a dispute in which a boisterous, Mi ned fellow called lira adversary “no gen ilemaii.” “I suppose you think your*eU me,” was the rep'y- "Certainly 1 do,” mswered the bully. ‘ Then,” said the tlher, “I'm not offended that you don’t; think me one.” It vs a poor matrimonial firm that is three-quarters wife and one-quart or bus. bund