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A LOVE 3TOHY.
lIATTBK OF PACT WITHOUT THE SEN
SATION.
I
About twenty miles from New York
iivee a rich man who has a fine estate,
and ao interesting family, of which
the eldest is a beatiful young lady,
her father's pride and hope. Last
year, while his elegaht mansion was
bniiding, a young carpenter who had
just finished his trade, and whose sole
property consisted in a pair of large
hands, a stout, good heart, and habits
of industry and soberness, came to
work upon the premises. Very natu
rally the young knight of the broad
axe soon fsli in love with the young
lady; and not strange to spy tho
young lady waa equally well pleasod
with him. She spent coneideruble
time in watching the progress of the
■work, particularly that performed by
the young mechanic, and he found
hit greatest incentive and joy in work
ing under the watch of her loving
eyes.
The secret, howovor, soon became
an open one, and finally was broken
to the youug lady’s father. Ho heard
the sad news without apparent con
cern, but iua few minutes set off for
tbe village where he mado diligent
inquiry respecting tho young carpen
ter, who, be learned, was the only son
and support of a poor widow, but was
an intelligent, capable, promising
young man. The father returned
home, and asked her how the matter
stood between herself and the young
carpenter. It was a critical moment
to bet, and for a moment her fears
triumpl.id-ovor all other feelings, and
she burst into tears. The tears wore
followed by a confession of anaUach
ment wbfifb had grown stronger every
day, even with the fear, that it was
doomed tq a cruel disappointmefft;
for the object of it was nothing but a
poor mechanic. “But 1 love him with
all my might, and would give my life
for him,” said the honest girl.
‘•Hoes he reciprocate your affec
tion ?” asked the father.
“That ho does,” replied the daugh
ter; “Wit he knows that you would
never consent to his paying his ad
dresses to me, and has been very re
served about it. Ho talks about go
ing away bccauso he cannot live here
without seeing mo, and thinks you
would bo unwilling to have him visit
tbe bouse.”
Tne father sent for tbo young car
penter who came to tbe room with
the greatest trepidation. Uo suspect
ed what, and, anticipating an imme
diate dismissal, bis heart was in his
throat when tho father said to him :
“Young man how is it that you have
dared to carry on a flirtation with
my daughter without my consent ?”
“That is false, sir, utterly falso, sir,”
the young man replied ; “your daugh
ter came to the house where we were
at work and I saw her and loved her.
I could not keep my eyes from look
ing at het. She returned my look,
and interest, and asked me questions.
Almostevory day she has been to the
house, and her coming makes it seem
a heaven to me, sir. But i knew I
was only a poor mechanic, with a
mother on my hands, aDd that you
would not consent to my offering her
any particular attentions. So I have
kept away. lam going off, sir, soon
as the job is done, for I cannot livo
without seeing hor, and I would not
do anything dishonorable, or that her
father would disapprove.”
The young man turned his face to
ward tho window to hide a few stray
tears which came into his eyes. The
lather looked steadily into his secre
tary as if it contained something of
unusual interest. After a not unwel
come silence ho turned to the young
man and said : “Yon have acted hon
orably in this matter. Yon shall see
my daughter all you please. I hear
that you are a worthy industrious
young man, and I prefer such a one
for a son to any dissolute snob. lam
sorry your education has been so
much neglected. But it ia not too
late to remedy that matter- 1 will
pay your wages regularly to your
mother and will send you to school
for a year or two. After you get a
good foundation laid I will take you
into my business; and if ycu bear
[yourself in a worthy manner, ouo of
ithese days my daughter shall be your
wife. You may <Juit work at once.”
Our readers oan imagine the scene
and tho joy that followed this speech
of a wise aud kind father far belter
than we can describe them. The
young man has jusr finished a year’s
course at school, where he has made
wouderful progress. The father* seems
to to us proud of him as well can be;
and he has found life in his new and
elegant mansion on the banks of the
Hudson, with an accomplished daugh
ter who cannot sufficiently oxpross
her gratitudo for his kindness and the
occasional visits of a noble-minded
young man who is working hia way
up in the world, is only a sweet fore
taste of olysium. If other rich fath
ers .would follow his oxamdlo there
would bo few elopements and far less
misery than at presont, and a groat
many happy hearts and happier
homes.
MAGGIE BOYD’S WHITB APKON.
At last mamma had tarnished that
dainty little apron. How Maggie’s
blue eyes sparkled as she hold it up
arid examined the pretty scallops and
jaunty pockets, all bound with scar
let braid, stitched bo neatly on Aun
tie's “Wheeler & Wilson.” “Oh mam
ma, lam bo happy. I think this is
the very prettiest apron there ever
was.” Some of the children who
read this may smile at Maggie’s joy
over one white apron, for they have
so many; but Mr. Boyd was a car
penter with three boys older than
Moggie and two youngor, to be fed,
clothed nod sent to school. So while
Maggie was always warmly and neat,
iy dressed, her mother conld not
affoid mußy pretty things. Plain
gingham or calico aprons woro more
serviceable than while; and with
these Maggie was contented. But
all tho children were going to a school
festival, and Mia. Boyd had denied
herself some little things that Mag
gie might have the apron she had
bbiitplOTwir"’*' ’ *
After the father and the hoys had
duly admired the apron, the happy
owner folded it carefully and put it
away in her drawer with hor groy
sacquo and blue delaine tftess, and
skipped to school, hor heart so full
of sunshine that her leachor smiled
hack as sko met tho sparkling eyes
of her best scholar, ana felt happy,
at what she scarcely know.
Two hoars later Mrs. Boyd was
surprised to see Maggie rush in.
“Why, child, what has brought you
home at this hour? Has anything
happened ?”
“No, mother, but a gentleman came
to school this morning with Miss
Martin and talked a little whilo to
the children. Ho said he was going
way out West to-morrow to tako
some thing to tho Home Missionaries
and wauled to know if wo could not
give some article of clothing, a pair
of gloves or stockings, any old dress
or apron or hood or scarf. He said
some of tho ministers didn’t have
any money, and some were sick, and
how hard it was to gc, i along. Ho
road us a lottor from one poor man
who had the paralysis and four little
children, and one of tho little girls
was eight years old and had very poor
clothes indeed. So Mist Martin said
she would excuse us half an hoar ear
lier, and we might go home and get
wbat we could and bring tbe
to hor house this afternoon. You
know there are just twelve of rs
scholars, and we will send our things
to one family. All tbe girls are go
’ ing to take something. Wbat can I
have, mother ?”
“Oh ! Maggie,” sighed Mrs. Boyd,
“there isn’t a thing I can spare. I
would if I could, for your Uncle
James used to be a missionary in
Oregon, but your father feels par
ticularly poor to-day. He didn’t
get that contract he was expecting
and cannot let me l have the money
for tbe beys’ clothes, and you, child,
cannot spare oven an apron. So don’t
say any more about it.”
Maggie tnrned quietly away and
took a towe] to hem, but as she sew
ed her thoughts wore very busy.
The color came and went on her
face and her eyes filled with tears.
But a look of determination at last
took the place of uncertainty; she
went up to her mother and softly
said: “Dear mamma if you are will
ing, I should like to give my new
apron to the poor Home Missionaries.
Perhaps it will fit that little giri.
'Please, mamma,l do love that new
WASHINGTON, WlfoES COUNTY, GA., FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 7 M
apron, but 1 feel so sorry for the sick
ministers.
Mrs. Boyd looked in astonishment
at the little pleader, “Why, Maggie 1
would you givo away the prettiest
thing yon have ? jThat will you wear
to the Festival?’'
“Oh, I guess my dross will look
nioe onough without it. I am truly
willing if you are, mamma.”
“Do as you please; dearie,” was the
kind rop;y.
And Maggie went to her drawer
and taking out tho apron, carofully
wrapped ii up, saying : “I guess I
had bolter tako it to Miss Martiu’s
right off, mother; for if I think much
about it l am Rl’raid I won’t want to
send it so much.”
Mrs. Boyd mado no objection, and
in a few moments tho genorous child
was in her toucher's room. “Please
Miss Marlin, put on a slip of papor,
this apron is for the little girl eight
years old, whoso father has tho par-
alysis, from another girl eight years
old.’’ The lady promised and Mag
gie returned homo. Not another
word was said abjut the apron; for
tho bays, boy-hke forgot it by tho
time tho Festival came off; and,
moreover, they thought Maggio, in
her plain blue delaine dress, with
the white ruffle in the neck, “just the
sweetest girl ’round."
And now lot us take a peep into
that far Western home. In a small
bare house a thankful, happy group
is assembled. On a bed in one cor
ner lies the stricken father, one side
forever useless. But pleasant smiles
light up his pale faco us one article
after auother is drawn from the box.
Tho youngest little girl is eagerly
awaiting her portion, but cither tho
article are two small Or too large, and
othors, whom they do fit, claim them.
But what is this ? A small bundle di
rected to “tho little girl eight years
old, whoso father has tho paralysis.”
“Oh ! that’s me, that’s me,” laughs
Jennie, and hor little fingors, tremb
ling wgh
apron, our Maggio.’s gift, “See pans,
it just fits. Aim you glad I can cov
or up that ugly old patch I burnt
in my only good dross? llow pretty
it is. 1 do love the little girl who
sent mo this.”
If Maggie could have soon the
happy smiles on the childish face,
just before so sad, she would huve
been more glad than evor that she
had acted generously.
As it was, when tbe letter of
(.hanks was read to tho school, and
the white apron especially mentioned,
Maggie felt a warm, happy glow in
her lioaTt, that tho woaring of the
prettiest apron would never have
awakened.
Let us all remembor tho Home
Missionaries, and though wo may be
poor, try to do somotliing for others
poorer than ouselves, for wo shall al
ways find it “more blossod to give
than to receive.”
“APABE MOMENTS.”
“Sparc moments aro tho gold-dust
of lime.”
When Queen Elizabeth lay upon
hor dying bed) she cried in the deep
sorrow and anguish, “Millions oi
money would I givo for an inch of
time.” At that moment ho who
would bavo offered her gold, diamonds
or power, more than sho evor boforo
possessed, who would have known to
her tho newß of a splendid victory, or
paid the most delicate compliment,
would have beon thrust aside to make
room for any one who could have pro
longed, even for an hoar, the life of
the dying queen. Time is a priceless
gift of God to weak humanity. We
are placed in this world for a purpose;
and timo is given us to fulfill our al
lotted task. If we act in unison with
tho Almighty, wo find that not one
moment need be unemployed. The
service of God, tho improvement of
onr talents, and the bestowal of char
ity upon those less favored than oir
selves, will fill up every inch of time.
As the minute particle of which gold
dust ia composed glitter in the light of
the sun, »j shall the apparently in
significant actions, which occupy bat
a moment, brighten the page of our
lives, when tbo powerful light of the
dissolving elements shall expose it to
the scrutiny of the All seeing Judge.
In view of such a time should we not
gather up the fragments, tbe minutes
—aye, tbe seconds ? As Bhort a time
will suffice to say that which may
save another from committing sin as
would be occupied in momentarily
gratifying ourselves. Wo cannot
alcul&ta the ultimate value oi hours
j.n'l minutes, hut we know that a?
"iould dust' carefully gathered, bocom
ta valuable, so we may expoet to be
come tbe happy reapers of an
cable treasure harvest, if WeT raTthTnl
ho-garner and cluster time’s golden
fragments.
H
SAGACITY OF A DOS.
£Por the interest of children and
others who take pleasure in
t!,» wonderful sagacity often
!>j“ dogsj we insert the- story' found
below. It is copied iu tho Miscellany
of the New Eclectic from All the'Yed'r
Jif'tnJ. The story is graphicaijy and
sijoply told by tho owner of tho dog,
“4. Bavarian gentlemen resident in
JJkgiand.j t
jpti Wednesday, tbe 27th of June,
1836, Mr. Otto Striodingor, a gentle
rrmp connected with the Royal Victo
ria Hospital at NotloyqwoiyjjkhAwo
fronds to a coquet party
abtat five miles fromnctloy.
accompanied as usual by his favorit
do j Worry—a magnificent black re
tri.ver. The woather being extreme
ly tot, tbe oroquetdid not bogiu before
four o’clock, aud was followed by sup
pe; ; so that it was ton o’clock boforo
arty broke up. The three gen
tlemen then walked back to NetWy
in tho dusk. The footpaijiAiy* wlpafep
they returned lod through a privfifu
pai k, and across a common overgrown
witri heathor. Whon about a mile
froffc Netley, the walkers passed a
reservoir, which supplies tho hospital
with water. The night being hot and
close Mr. Striodingor wished to
give bis dog a swim.—He whistled
again and again, but no Worry came;
so Y’o ,inado up his mind that his dog
hadiboen hunting for his own private
umuqenrejH, and bad lost tho track,
as little scent on the
group’d, vK arry’s master did not
tgp-b”! himself about, his whereabouts
-if 1---OM for. w
jsF' Abtli deg, **
of WititseljF, hnd would doubtless aim
his way homo lntor. Mr. Striodingor
arrived at tbo hospital, and was pre
paring to go to bed, when ho remem
bered that he had tb answer two let
ters, which ho had received by that
afternoon’s post, just as ho was start
ing with his friends to Westend.
These lettors woro of great impor
tance, and when Mr. Striedinger had
locked for them without success he
fell extremely uncomfortable. Ho
instituted u soarcb all over his rooms
urnod his writing-case lopsy-turvoy,
looked through his desk; but all in
vain. He then took a light, and bad
a bunt in evory nopk and corner of
his office; but came back empty han
ded. Thoroughly and discomposed,
be went to bed. Unable to sleep, he
got up in ths middle of tho night to
make another and an equally fruitless
search. At lust tho morning sun be
gan to light up the rooms, which was
a signal for fresh investigation, with
the same result. Then and not be
fore, the idea struck Titrri that, the let
ters, having been delivered just as ho
was starting for tho coquot party, he
must have read them on tho way
thither, and must have then put them
in his coat pofket; bu£ when ho thrust
his hand in to the pocket, and drew it
back empty, ho felt convinced that,
his letters were lost beyond all chance
of recovery. Hoping against hope,
however, ho resolved to make one
more effort.
He rushed off, unshaven, unkempt,
to retrace his steps of the previous
day, looking right and left, turning
over every scrap of papor ho saw ly
ing on tho road, stopping wherever
ho recollected that he and his com
panions diad stopped tho day beforo,
mistaking every object that was con
spicuously light in the distance for
the papers, and growidj; more dis
pairing overy minute. After walking
on for about throe miles he espied a
black object lying close to tho foot
path. It was Worry’s black head
Reproaching himself for having in
bis great uneasiness forgotten his fa
vorite, be wb farcied' to Worry, who
however, instead of showing his usu
al alaority, remained lying motion
less on the ground. His owner sup
posed him to be caught in one of tho
with «fhich he know the com
mon to bo thickly studded; but, on
bis approaching Worry, up jumped
the dog, leaving exposed to Mr. Strie
dinger’s delighted view, the missing
letters, together with a number of
Other loose papers. There had been
a very heavy dew that night, and
Worry’s cu|ly coat was as wet at if
The had had an bour%“B#ffr i *i(Mthe
neighboring reservoir; but the papers
wore as dry, hot, and crisp, as a break
fast roll out of a bakeriwven. There
woro marks of teeth on one or two of
thcnvAiWftKfirti!",, cither that before
having had recourse to his subsequent
and successful expedient for preserv
ing his master’s property, Worry had
oudoavored to collect aad eafTy the
scuttorod manuscript, or, which is
probable, that he had—finding them
too nqgterpus to allow of his acting
on his rfetvi»ving ia*UaeU—brought
all t.hn-nn[.lyingjjj^l < .s« within ronsl, 0 f
the shelterrftis out (stretched body.
It was now eight o’clock. TJuU duvo
ted dog had been on guard over these
papers for sixteen hours, evor since
the friends went to Westend at about
four o’clock on Wednesday afternoon.
It must have been then, und not on
the return to Netley, that Mr. Slre
dingor dropped his lettors; for they
foil out of a breast pocket of the coat,
which he hung over bis arm when
walking in tho sultry boat of the af
ternoon, but which he wore on his
way home at night, when it would be
impossible for the contents of tho
pocket so to escape. Tlio gentlemen
in reluming must have made some
slight deviation from the path by
which they had gone, and in this man
-0 must have missed the sentinel,
Worry.
ASYLUM FOB USELESS YOUNG MEN
In evory community there i&,a cer
tain percentage ofnsoless young men
whose ultimate condition must excite
tbe sympathy and consideation of
ever philanthropist. What will be
come of them ? We do not put tho
qtioslion as to their future state, but
how will thoy round off their oarthly
existence ? They have no visible
means of support; still they hang on.
they vegetate, they keep above ground
fa v ">'tt&in literal sense thoy may
Mto live, move and have a being.
' ' •«!>•»« in ofiftesj
•»IL-4r*jrp«er' amusomentg,
play tho gallant to good naUned ladies
and attend to tho necessities of lap
dogs. Their more quiet and demon
strative life may be described as an
intermittent torpor, in which moals,
cigars, drink and sloop mark the
changes. Their existence would be a
mystery, but for their bearing, rela
tions to othor substantial peoplo
known as “pa,” “rna,” or “better
huts,” who are able to make provis
ion for the waste and protection of
their bodtos in the way of clothing
and food. Still, ought thoso young
men to be left to the chances of pa
rental und domestic affection ? All
are not equally fortunate.
What shall wo do with those whoso
dependence is precarious ? They do
not admit of uny utilitarian disposi
tion. In cannibal countries thoy
could be eaten as a substitute for veal;
their bodies would also make excel
lent fertilizers for sterilo lands; bat
the prejudices of a Christian people
would revolt at this solution of the
problem. A certain number could be
be employed as lay figures in shop
windows to exhibit clothes on, but tbe
tailors might not have confidence in
thorn. Most of thorn could color
meerschaums, but this business would
produco little revenue.—What, then,
shall be done! The tax no w full opens
a few, and it ought to be distributed.
Wopropose, therefore, a State Asylum
fop useloss young men. An institution
of this kind could be easily filled witb
those between tbe ages eighteen and
thirty, who should be grouped and
associated together, so that the rude
jostling and friction of the working
world would not disturb thoir delicate
nerves.
Here they could cultivate their
moustaches, part tbeir hair behind,
and practice attitudes. In this resort,
with a little enforced exorcise to keep
theii circulation in a healthy stato,
with dolls to play with as a compen
sation for the absence-of ladies' socie
ty, these useless young men could bo
supported with ease and comfort, and
all industrious people would be wil
ling to pay tbe expense of this insti
tution, rather than bear the painful
lioit'ilr in regard to the welfare of
those superfluous members of society.
When provision has been made by
tho Stale for idiots, or insane, poor
aged and crippled, it i.« astoun
ding that Asylums have never been
erected for a still more helpless class ?
Lotting philanthropic enterprise bo
started at once.— Watertown Reformer.
VOL II—NO. 42.
GLIMPSES OF TROTH. I
The following has a moral, which requires
but little thought to discover:
It was aix men of Hiudoostan,
To learning much inclined, ,
Who went to sue the Elephant,
Though all of them were blind,
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.
Th» Firtt approached the Elephant,
And happening t a f*H
Against his broad and aturdy side.
At once bsgan to bawl:
“O bless me I —but the Elephant
Is very like a wall.”
The Bteornl, feeling of tbe tnak
Cried ‘ Hoi what have we here
So very round and amootha and sharp I
To me ’lis mighty clear -
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear.’ -
The I'/iinl approached the animal
And happening to take
The equirtning trunk within hie hand*,
Thua boldly up and spake:
“1 tee,” quoth he, “the Elephant
Ia very like a anake."
The Fivrth reached oui his eager hand,
Ami felt above hia knae;
“What most this wonderous beast is like
Is mightvplain,” quoth he;
“'Tis clear enough the Elephant
Ia very likt a tree.”
The Fifth who chanoed to touch the ear,
Said, “E’on the blindeet man
Can tell what this resemblaa most; *
Deny the fact who can.
This marvel of the Elephant
Is very like a fan 1”
Tbe Sixth no sooner had begun
About the beaat to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
‘j “the Elephant ' ~
Is vfry like a ropaJ
And so these men of Hiudoostan
Disputed load end long.
Each in hit own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong.
Though each waa partly iu tbe right
And partly in the wrong .
—Jthn 8, Saxe
GERMAN LADIES AMD FAMILIES.
A short lime since, I attended a fnir
given by the Crown Princess of Prus
sia the daughter of Queen Yictmtu, in
«t«ig*t TdjijU.
w ou ntl erf sold i eijs
Ur and a ’ nutrtlxwr of Bareness,
Countesses, and ladies, and had
an opportunity -of observing closely
thou- dress; and I do not hes
itate to say that I hnvo often span
ladies at the South, with moderate
fortunes, dress far more expensively
than they did. A few days ago, I
accidentally heard of the Crown
Princess refusing to purchase certain
articles which she really needed, be
cause they cost too.much. Any fash
ionable-lady at the S&Uthyvould glad
ly buy tboso articles at double the
sum for which they were offered to
tho Crown Princess. I could write
much more on this subject, but tjiese
simple statements will enable you to
form some idea of the manner in
which ladies dross in Berlin, the cap
ital city of Prussia. Tho idea of
Prussia; the idea of economy and
neatness in the regard to dress, which
an American young lady would inev
itably receive by spending a year in
Berlin, would be well worth the
amount of money required to defray
her expenses, if she were benefited
in no other way whatever.
1 have noticed that in German fam
ilies, family government is very strict
compared wilh llio theory and prac
tice in America on this subject, I may
say, extreme rigid. The rules and
regulations are few, but they are en
forced on all accasions anp under all
circumstances.-- Unquestioning tubmit
eion to tbe parental authority, lies at
the foundation of this government
Children are taught to entertain the
highest respect for superiors and for
age - It is beautiful to see the respect
ful manner in which they deport
themselves in the presence of tbeir su
periors and older persons.' They are
also invariably polite to strangers.
Tbe bidding for pews in Plymouth
church (Rev. Mr. Beecher’s Brooklyn,
New York,) was dull this year com
pared wilh that of last year. Tbe
first choice was sold to Mr. H. W.
Sage for $425, and he took pew No.
90. Last year the first choice wai
knocked down to Mr. H. B. Claffln for
$550. The second choice was taken
by Mr. H. O. Bowen for $825. Last
year the second choice was sold for
S4OO. Mr. H. B. Clnftin took the
third choice at a premium of S3OO.
Last year tho third choice realized
$325.
At wbat age are ladies most happy ?
Mari i-age.