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"B*LUMEtrS INDEPENDENT,”
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT
QUITMAN, GA m
BY
J* C. GALLAHER.
TKAES MT BWCRIPTIONI
TWO DOLLARS per Annum in Advance.
ISAAC DREAMS
BT FRAME OLIVE,
tlmractlYs Winn
t*VB dreamed a dream. Would *twflrr interpreted
At dreamt were wont to be, of old! I d**eatned
that I wet dead,
And that bit spirit soared at once toward that
realm of bliss,
To which I always meant to go when I was done
with this.
The gates of shimmering pearl were closed. Im
patiently I knocked,
Por rates of swell magnificence my sober notions
shocked;
'Straightway, above the barrier, a stalely head
was raised,
Whose eves almost abashed me, as on me they
sternly gatod.
'‘ls thy name Petes f H queried I. “The same,"
its lips replied,
"Why dout thee then unlock these gates and let
me pass inside?**
M Nav, first show thy credentials,** said he, with
lowering brow;
*‘Was*t thou a just gud honest maa? Tell mo,
Whence com cut thou ?**
••From WaMhingteuL,** said I. "That’s bad." said
Peter, wtth a (town;
** *Tia years sinoe any were admitted here from
that vile town.”
‘•Nay. 'twaa not Bay abiding place. I simply tar
ried there
To serve my fellow men,” said I. Quoth Peter,
**Ou the square?"
•‘Well, Peter, I shah not deny," said I, ‘‘that
cltance of gain
Hath tempted me to swerve some whs t, and
temptofi not in vain;
When worth? projects languished, or my patriot
spirit tired,
A little filthy lucre oft my seal auew inspired.
"Thee’ll see, l trust, ’twaa better than arnuo vir
tuous man like me
Should intercept those perquisites, which else
would certainly
Have gone iuto the pockets of the sordid and
depraved.
And Usus been worse thin wasted; whereas
’tWas dearly saved."
' Hast stolen much F* asked Peter. "Well, tech
nically, nav*.
Opinions though, may cl Ter Concerning that
lack pay."
"Hast ever lied?" “Nay Peter, I scorned tube
thus low,
Uhless it were by proxy. Therein I’m pure as
snow.
"Although temptation hath sometimes my lofty
soul unstrung,
The praise of virtue was a theme that aye in
spired my tongue.
Thee will oba<srve, go*kl Peter—and I say it with
Mtte pride—
That even in my fai ,J igs I leaued to virtue’s
side.
Thee knows me, Hannah, End thee knows a brief
tale would suffice
To catalogue my slight familiarity with vice.
I felt assured of eutrauce, fur lie .‘amhied with
his key.
And his countenance grew milder as he listened
unto me.
"Hast thou repented?" queried he. * ! Yea,
verily f" said I,
"That was my lasi proceeding 'ere I started for
the sky."
"One question more,”., said Peter: ‘‘What did
men think of thee ?"
1 proudly said, " lauU month thf SCiwUe vindicate
"Begone! Begone ? Thou foolish wretch!*
mared Peter wrathfußy;
"A Bnate ‘vindication’ argues moral leprosy!
Away! Before I spurn thee to the realm of end
less night !*'
t saw that he "meaut business” and woke in sore
affright.
TIIK MERIAH.
BT ACSTIN WEST.
"Johnson,” said young Cranch to the
W.*k-keeper of his father’s firm, as one
lazy summer noon they Wens eating their
lunch together in the back counting
room, "Johnson, you’re not a Spaniard
are you ?’* "No sir !” replied the party
addressed emphatically, and in a tone
that would have proclaimed him all Ameri
can, had not his countenance betrayed
him to Vh) a foreigner.
"A Moor, then T*'
"No !"
"An Italian f”
"No !"
“A Fifteenth Amendment?”
"No 1” somewhat indignantly.
"What the deuce are •you then ? for
blame me if I haven't bothered my brains
vainly, for the pust two months, to find
ont. ,r
The hook-keeper stopped eating and
with a piece of bread half way to his
mouth, turned his magnificent black eyes
suddenly on young Cranch with a look of
such intense agony, that that illustrious
representative of American youth in the
nineteenth century stopped eating, too,
and started.
"Good gracious !" cried he, "I did not
mean to hurt your feelings.”
"You have not hurt them," returned
Johnson, "but in recalling me to my
nationality you drive my memory back to
climes and scenes that, for me, at least,
were better forgotten forever. However,
as you evidently intended no harm, it is
due to you that I should answer your
question —I am a Meriah !”
"A Meriah, Johnson—what’s that ?’’
"When I told you, I was well aware
that yon would not know what a Moriah
wag. I will explain, if you degire it, bnt.
the explanation, to be clear, will involve
my life-history, Shall I tell it ?"
“By all means.”
“Well, then, to please yon, I will,
though the story is a painful one for me
to relate.
I was horn in the Orient—in the in
terior of Hindoostan—
My early recollections are very dim—l
remember neither father nor mother, nor,
in fact, any relative whatever; but from
the practice of selling yonng children in
my country, this is not strange.
The first person I can call to mind was
an old native priest—a Brahmin—who
had entire charge of me and was bringing
me up in a small inland village. He was
like the rest of the Indian sacerdotal caste
—a bigot—who, with a profound show of
learning and piety, was about as ignorant
as a man could well be, and about as truly
gious as those roughs who attended Kit
,urns's dog pit in New York. He was an
astrologer, a sorcerer, an alchemist, ami
bis knowledge was the same knowledge of
bumbng and money-getting that yonr Jiar
num so well understands, and your Frank
lin has so highly lauded. His priestly
office comprehended the elucidation of the
mysteries of the Brahaminical religion to
nonces, and hence, as I grew older and
stood with him in the temple, and heard
his beautifully modulated voice tell how
the {great Brahma created the world and
all upon it, and how that all-powerful
deity, as the monarch of Heaven and the
first person of the Trinity, had unques
tioned power over the entire universe, I
lsaUnl)rr’s 3 tirnnuVnt.
VOL. I.
fondly imagined that I was intended, when
my niorits should be sufficient, to don the
sacred mantle and officiate like him at the
altar. The rererential nwe, too, of the
people whenever they beheld me but
added weight to this supposition in my
youthful mind, and though I was awfully
misled, as the terrible sequel proved, I
could not but experience much internal
satisfaction when I thought of the estate
of power and importance to which I
fancied I was slowly but surely coming.
I was endowed by nature with a quick
comprehension and a fair intellect, and,
above all, I was industrious; hence it is no
wonder that I speedily outstripped my in
dolent companions in mastering the few
branches of imjvorfeet education wo had to
study. I soon grew famous as a scholar,
not only in my own immediate neighbor
hood, but even in regions afar off, and to
this fact I attributed the vast multitudes
of natives who yearly visited me to pay me
tributes in money and respect. One
thing, however, puzzled me greatly, and I
could not fathom its cause, do what I
would—that was, that w hilst the pilgrim
strangers (as they were called in our ex
pressive language) paid dutiful and re
spectful attention to my fellow students of
divinity, 1 received ft more god-like
homage, and was rather worshipped than
admired. My companions were asked for
no keepsakes, no ‘remember me’ tokens,
but I (poor, unsuspecting fool,) was fairly
overrun with prayers and supplications for
even such trivial donations as a lock of my
hair or a scrap of my cast off clothing.
This went on for several years, and finally
I regarded it as a matter of course.
All this while, though 1 was rapidly
learning all the mysteries and ceremonies
of the Itrahmiuical caste, I was never al
lowed like my companions to assist the
priests when they performed their ser
vices before the people. This I thought
strange, but it did not vex me like my
total exclusion from the sacrifices, for I
bail been taught to believe that in the
sacrifice was god Brahma’s greatest de
light, and that after death ho peculiarly
honored all those Brahmins who had par
ticipated therein. On several occasions I
remonstrated with my protector, all in
tears, on this point, but to no purpose, for
he invariably told mo that the first duty
of the sacerdotal novice was submission to
his superiors without murmur.
Betore these re monstrances 1 had been
free to go and come when I liked, but
after them I soon discovered that a strict
watch hail been put upon me. I was in
dignant, and went in a fury to the Brah
min to complain. He did not attempt to
deny the fact that. I was surrounded with
spies, but justified himself by saying that
such a course had been required to pre
vent damage from the insubordination I
had recently shown.
However, all hough I was watched and
dogged by the underlings of the temple,
1, nevertheless, remarked that the homage
before mentioned, extended to me by the
villagers and the pilgrim-strangers, in
creased year by year; and, further, I
noticed that, whilst the severity of my
protector and his creatures toward me
daily grew greater and greater, the feasts
in my honor in the temple and Brahamini
cal quarters became more frequent and
assumed the air of religious festivals.
I was now grown to man’s estate, and I
was still under dire misapprehension as to
my destiny.
I still imagined I was ordained by
Brahma for his priesthood.
About, tliis time reports reached our
village o{ an approaching Meriuh sacrifice,
away off to the southeast of Nagpore.
I determined to go, happen what might.
The sacrifice was to take place within
ten days, and, if I would reach the spot in
time, I must start at once.
I fixed on a certain midnight, when
Braluna was said to help his chosen, for
the attempt to escape. I say encnpe, but
yon must bear in mind that I intended
that my absence should be only tempo
rary, as I did uot regard myself as a cap
tive, and had not only the wish hut the
design to return, after I kid witnessed
the. sacrifice. I have saiA I did uot like
the preference shown ta- my companions
in the religious exercised, and, also, that
I was indignant at boiim watched, as I con
sidered there was no need of either action.
I had become zealous in my faith, and
desired but to be admitted freely to all
its privileges.
I was favored beyond my most sanguine
expectations, and left the Brahminical
quarters undiscovered and unsuspected.
I reached my destination fully three
days before tin! forthcoming sacrifice.
On my arrival I found myself among
strangers. The Meriah, as was usual for a
short period before the ceremony, had the
entire freedom of the town, and, whilst
the people gave themselves up to pleasure
of every species, everything was his to
have, to hold and to enjoy.
This particular Meriah was a young
native of very fine and commanding
presence.
He fully understood his position and
what was soon to happen, but, sustained
by the excitement of his unlimited license
or fired by religions zo,a), he ran riot on
all sides, and shouted and committed deeds
that I should blush to tell yon of.
At the time I first saw him lie was nearly
nude, and, with a crown of bay leaves on
his head, was reeling through the streets
under the influence of that key to Para
dise—opium. A crowd of men, women
and children in disordered robes, and al
most as drunken as the Meriah himself,
followed him dancing wildly and singing
chants or songs, the character of which
was disgusting in the extreme.
Now and then some of the turbulent
company would advance upon the stag
gering man, and drawing hairs from his
head would conceal them in their bosoms
with cries of joy —these hairs were sup
posed to secure the possessor from all
earthly harm or the anger of the gods,
I beheld these proceedings for three
days, when the Brahmin in charge pro
claimed to the people that tire preparatory
rejoicings being at an end, the, sacrifice
would at onca begin. The Moriah was
immediately seized by two stout under
priests and bound.
A wide piece of bamboo was then put
into his mouth so that the ends kept the
jaws stretched and apart.
Thus he was led about the village in
solemn procession, the inhabitants chant
ing the death songs and annotating their
heads with the spittle that flowed in
copious streams from the comers of his
open and now swollen mouth. After the
procession had been through the village
three or four times, the head Brahmin sud
denly arrested it before a great statue of
the creator, and turning towards the
Meriab, whose countenance wore an cx
QUITMAN, GA„ SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1874.
pression of religions exaltation, he chanted
in a low, solemn voice: “Now is the time
when to the great and sublime Brahma,
the founder of the universe aud father of
all tho lesser gods, the prosperity offering
of the people shall go. Now is tho time
when Brahma's lessor gods shall convey
to him tho Merfah’s siiirit, and with his
blood and flesh wash aud bless the torrid
and parched earth. Como first, then,
divinity of lethargy and enwrap the Me
riah for the awful rite.”
The victim during this time had boon
brought face to face with the idol, aud,
when the head priest ceased, from the
statue's eyes, nose and mouth burst a sud
ih'n sheet of smoke and flash which, for a
moment or two, completely enveloped the
Moriah.
When tho smoke cleared away the
Meriah lay stupefied upon the ground.
Hi) was picked up senseless by two of
the younger Brahmins, and held upright
between them with his head hanging
heavily down upon his breast. The head
wax then placed between the rift of a bam
boo, and the young Brahmins supported
each an end with shoulder and hand.
The victim was left dangling in the cen
tre, a mass of unconscious inanity.
While he swung hither and thither
helpless, the head Brahmin advanced
chanting in n loud voice: “Now let the
people prepare to c msiiiumatc tho grand
sacrifice of the Meriah 1 Lot them pre
pare 1 Let them prepare! So said the
great Bialnna to tho nations of old when
first he ordained the rite, and so say I to
the people—-I, his n pi'esentativo now 1”
He then caught up nu axeand continued:
“With Ibis sanctified instrument —which
great llrahma himself possessed, anil
which wo his unworthy children have
had preserved to us by our father’s care
aud our ancestors’aid -with this sanctified
instrument shall tho Meriah over be pre
pared 1”
Whilst thus chanting he uplifted the
weapon, and, advancing upon the un
happy victim, broke with it in turn all
his joints!
Then, as the head Brahmin retreated,
the mob in fury fell upon the mass of
quivering flesh that was lately a strong
man, and literally stripped that living
flesh from its bones!
Then might be seen each happy posses
sor of a morsel, running joyfully to bury
it in his fields that the season might be
jm ipitions.
Thus ended the l ife of the Meriah, the
most terrible spectacle I over witnessed,
and I must avow that, pagan ns I was, I
was human enough to be disgusted !
I turned, sick at heart, to leuvo the
piece.
1 turned towards home.
I did not get beyond tho limits of the
town when 1 was seized by men already
too well known to me !
They were the spies who had watched
me at home !
I was the captive, yet still they treated
me with a respect and reverence that did
not comport w ith their forcible detention
of me I
The strangers around, of course, were
curious, but a word spoken to them by my
captors turned their curiosity into that
awe and respect which I everywhere re
ceived when known I
As I was being led away, an unguarded
whisper on the part of one of tliq stran
gers, to another, shot through me like a
thrill of fire, and seemed to dry up in me
everv sense save utter despair !
That whisper was this:
"A Meriah escaped from Janpore I”
I was the wonder of this crowd and the
dread whisper meant me I
I fainted, so terror-stricken was I, and
when I came to my: elf thoroughly—for
they told me I had been Jong in a delir
ium—l was once more at home in the
Brahminicnl quarters.
No need now to ask why I was uot per
mitted to act as priest or to attend the
sacrifices—no need now to tell me why I
was reverenced and respected above my
companions !
In my prison, for since my return I
had been closely confined—though tho
odious respect and awe even followed mo
to my cell—l learned that, as it was known
that I had penetrated the secret of my
life and destiny, and as it could no longer
be concealed from me as of old, the cole
-1 ration of the rite of the Meriah, in my
case, was to he advanced and take pluce
in two weeks instead of two years from
that, time !
I was stricken with horror and know not
what to do !
Escape was impossible !
I must then remain and suffer, when
the awful period came, all tho torments I
had so recently beheld 1
A week and a-half passed and nothing
different in my situation 1
The thirteenth day arrived and still no
change !
The fourteenth day dawned and found
me a grey-haired, broken man 1
But with it came the roar of artillery !
I started up when 1 heard it, and for
the first time in my life delighted that the
oppressor was in my country !
Those guns were English, and English
shot was playing upon those who had in
tended to sacrifice me tlxat day !
Were the English my enemies any
longer ?
Oh, no ! my foes were of my own race,
and the English wore my friends—my
brothers 1
A ball crashed through the walls of my
prison ! I made for the cleft it made and
in an instant was in the open air- and
free 1
I crept on hands and knees to tho En
glish camp, and tearing off my white tur
ban waved it as a flag of truce 1
A sentinel saw mo, and, calling a guard,
sent me to the officer in charge of tho
c imp.
lie understood Hindoostanee and hoard
my story as I have told it to you.
He protected me, and, after the capture
of the village, took me with him to Cal
cutta.
There I learned English, and from
thence I went to England, where I became
a professing Christian. From England I
came to New York, and here I am this
summer noon telling the story of my ori
ental life to you, a young American, who,
until now, never dreamed of what might
be the lot of, or who might be —a Meriah. ”
— Phila. Nat, Mail.
Two warm-hearted young ladies in
New Haven got up a subscription for an
old woman who broke her leg. When
the sum reached $25 they divided the
spoils and purchased anew bonnet apiece,
of the very latest style. Thev said a wo
man with a broken leg wouldn’t he able
to wear a bonnet much this summer, any
how.
A SLIGHT ACQUAINTANCE.
dressy Mitchell and John Martin met
at it little picuio party in a country village,
where she was passing a few weeks of the
intolerable hot summers, aud he—well he
was reading law for the present with Es
quire Morgan, tho village oracle, and
working übout the squire's farm to pay bis
board.
John Martin was a handsome young
mau, and as good as lie wits handsome.
So said Mr:, Morgan and all the old ladies
of tho vilhtgo, as also did the children,
who lovod him dearly for his kind acts and
the ehoorful words which he had for every
one.
The yonng ladies all seemed to have a
great deal of regard for him, for they each
and all foresaw that such a good young
man must make an excellent husband; and
besides, they felt assured that he would
becomo very rich, os well na influential;
for was he not reading law with Squire
Morgan, who lmd gained riches and in
fluence iu tho practice of his profes
sion ?
But somehow, John had failed to ap
preciate the regard of any young lady
until ho met Cressy Mitchell, and from
that time lie felt that liis heart was no log
ger liis own.
Cressy was a beauty, and she know it.
Slu doted on it. It was passing strange
that she should feel willing to deprive
herself of the homage of her many suitors
and banish herself to a country village,
even for a limited period. But she hod
planned on making her appearance at the
summer resorts of her fashionable friends,
when the season was half over, coming
fresh and hearty from her country retreat,
while the belles of fashion would have be
come already worn and weary with fash
ionable dissipation.
This was the rnnon of her seclusion,
and, witli a swift, comprehensive glance,
she scanned tho faco ami featuioi of John
Martin, inwardly rejoicing that such a
handsome and agreeable young man was
to be her companion during her stay in
the village.
She did not have one thought that he
would fail to present himself as a candi
date for her favor. She knew her power,
and felt sure that John Martin's love would
Hoim be hers.
It was even as she had anticipated, At
every picnic, pleasure excursion or party
gotten up ill tile village, John Marlin was
her escort and companion, and ere the
time which she had allotted herself to stay
had passed, slio was sure that she pos
sessed all tlio love of Joliu Martin’s gener
ous, noble heart.
She had learned to love him also. His
superiority over all other men with whom
silo had associated, forced her to yield to
him tlio respect which was due him, and
respect soon ripened into a warmer feeling,
which Creasy Mitchell would not acknowl
edge even to her own heart.
The time drew near for her to take her
departure from the village, and John Mar
tin had called to say good-bye. Without
preliminaries, and with no words of cring
ing flatterrv such as her former suitors
had invariably made use of, lie told her
in a strait-forward, manly way, of bis love
for her, and asked her to give him her
band in marriage.
For a time there was a severe struggle
in the breast of this beautiful creature of
fashion. She loved John Martin. She
knew it, and lie knew it, anil her better
nature cried loudly for a hearing in this
case.
But pride and ambition whispered in
her ear, "You must not thus fling away all
your bright hopes of the future; you may
form a splendid alliance; become the wife
of a millionaire; wear' luces and diamonds
and revel in wealth and luxury; do uot lis
ten to the promptings of your heart, but
let reason guide you.”
Thus importuned by the voice of selfish
ambition, she put tlio one love of her
heart away from her, and, turning to the
man who stood with folded arms awaiting
her decision, she said: •
"Mr. Martin, I cannot afford to indulge
in romantic dreams; that I love you I will
not deny, but you are poor nrid I am uot
rich; consequently each must form a more
prudent alliance.”
He stood for a moment, ns if transfixed,
while the cold worldly ideas expressed by
Cressy were floating through his brain.
Was this to be the end of tho bright
dream of happiness wbieli lie hod so ten
derly cherished ? Alas, he felt that all the
worid must bo false and cold, now tlmt
his idol had fallen, and his beautiful
Cressy, whom he had invested witli all
tho charms and virtues of an angel, had
changed into a cold, scliemiug, worldly
creature.
But he recovered his self-possession, and
extending his hand, he shook hers warmly,
and with a “Good-by, Creasy, God bless
yon and make you happy,” ho hurried
away.
The next day Creasy joined her fashion
able friends at the ——— Springs, and,
for tho time forgot John Martin and his
love.
*******
Summer passed, and winter came with
its round of metropolitan gayety. It was
midwinter, and the “affair of the season”
came off at the house of the leader of the
“ton;” none but the elite were there of
course, and indeed, they were of the “ex
clusive” set.
As Creasy was promenading tho spacious
saloon, leaning upon tho arm of a cavalier,
her eseoifc suddenly paused before a tall
gentleman, who stood leaning against a
pillar viewing the gay throng with a weary
air. “Miss Mitchell,” he said, “I
am happy to be able to present to you a
valued friend of mino, who informs me
that he hail the honor and pleasure of a
few weeks’ acquaintance with you during
the past summer.”
Cressy raised her eyes, and met those
of John Martin fixed earnestly upon her.
Her heart gave an impulsive bound, but
she checked its mad pulsations and re
plied coldly:
‘ Ah, yes; I believe I did have a slight
acquaintance with the gentleman.”
Without another word she moved on,
and, as the gentleman led her to a seat, he
sail:
“Really, Miss Mitchell, you are a won
d> r of your sex.”
“Indeed, sir; and why?”
“I don’t believe another young lady
present would have treated John Martin,
the millionaire, as coolly as you did just
now.
“John Martin the millionaire,” she
echoed.
“Aye; he’s as rich as Croosus.”
“But when I knew him ho was a law
student.”
“Oh, pooh! that was one of his odd
freaks; he always feared he wonld lie val
ued for his money, *nd not for him
self."
As soon as Cressy could free herself
from her obsequious escort and admirer, she
sought John Martin, and endeavored to
explain her conduct; hut ho would give
her no opportunity to do so, and persisted
iu treating her as “a slight acquaint
ance.”
In a few Weeks he brought his bride to
tho city, and introduced her to his fashion
able friends. Hhe was only a simple, in
nocent, country girl, but, as the wife of
John Martiu, she was welcomed to the
best society. And Cressy never ceased to
regret that she pronounced Murtiu only
“a slight acquaintance.”
A Return to Sobriety.
The hext morning you wake up with a
feeling in your mouth as though you had
made a hoartv supper off the apple* of
Sodom, and they hail, after their custom,
turned to ashes.
Then vou remember that your head
aches. And this fact, once firmly esto.b
lished in your mind, does not depart there
from nil day.
Ton lie awhile, thinking maybe the ache
will go away. But it don't.
Theu you think, perhaps, it may be
time to get up, and you look for your
watch, and don’t find it under the pillow,
where you usually keep it. Thou you
start to get your vest, and when you get
half way across the floor your mind
changes, and you sit down on the side of
the bed ngaitl, thinking, maybe, if you
wait a while your neck may get rested,
and yon will be better able to hold your
head steady.
Pretty soon you get tired waiting, and
holding your head with one lmml, while
you steady yourself by the back of u chair
with the other, you get over to your vest,
and sit down again.
Your watch isn't there, but iu it’s own
particular pocket is a little green piece of
paper with Simpson's name on it.
Then you remember that yon got broke,
up at “1212,” and you didn’t have enough
to pay the hackdriver until you had struck
your uncle for a short loan.
And you remember having words with
tho hackdriver aliout. the amount of his
fu:o. Aud you think, suddenly, that you
hit him. Then you look iu the glass and
remember distinctly that you did hit him.
And that ho hit you.
But this was late iu the evening, now
was it you got in sltch it desperate frame of
mind as to render such exploits possible
for so steady a man.
First you went to the theatre with Sum
and Jack. That is quite vividly in your
mind. And between acts you went nut,
aud each got a clove to cht-w on during
the succeeding nets.
Somehow the last of the play is not
clearly before your mind, The last scene
is enacted in a different house, to a differ
ent audience, although you don’t remem
ber goiug from the first theatre to the
second. You remember, however, that
Sam tells you that this is tile sequel after
witnessing “Led Astray.” You sat at a
little rotlml table, mid hammered on it,
and shouted madly for lieer. Suddenly
you missed Sam and Jack, and asked the
youug lady who appeared in some mys
terious way, like Columbine in tho pan
tomime, where they were.
She told you they were in tho wine-room
and you said you wuuted to go there,
too.
The beer Was not very good.
So you gave her a tcn-dolhir bill, and
slio brought you a small bottle of wine,
and fifty cents change, and led you away.
You tried to figure the change, and
couldn’t make It cotno right, but she look
ed at it and said it wus right, and you
thought you were mistuken, as you still
think.
The music was too loud, mid as you
went out into the nir you told Sam that
of all the poetry you knew, you liked
“0, Summer Night!” the best. And you
try to sing it to him. You were getting
aloug very nicely, as you thiuk now, but
that policeman interfered. Then you re
member kissing tlio ace of hearts, uud
coppering some girl's nose with a double
X instead of her mouth. And played
lobster salmi and eat roulette in a French
walnut, high-top barroom, until you were
tired and went to sleep, mid white-robed
angels in high heels turned 'you 0,1 1
doors.
Then you hear the clock strike ten, mid
yon conclude it is no use to get up till
dinner time, and you drink three or four
quarts of ice water and go to bed.
The chambermaid looks in nnd says,
with her nose high in the air, that she
believes you have lieen drunk. You thiuk
you lmve.
Gems of Thought.
Better be upright with poverty, than
unprincipled with plenty.
Submission is the footprint of faith in
the pathway of sorrow.
Permanent rest is not expected on the
road, but at the end of the journey.
The good man’s life, like the mountain
top, looks beautiful because it is near to
Heaven.
It is not till the storm comes that we
find out the real building and the timber
of a vessel.
It is a higher exhibition of Christian
manliness to ho ablo to bear trouble than
to get rid of it.
Innocence is a flower which withers
when touched, but blooms not again,
though watered by tears.
Passion gets less and less powerful after
every defeat. Husband energy for real
demand which the dangers of life make
upon it.
It is not until the flower has fallen off
that the fruit begins to ripen. So in life
—it is when the romance is past that the
practical usefulness begins.
The man who cares for nobody, and for
whom nobody cares, has nothing to live
for that will pay for keeping of soul anil
body together.
If you wish to live the life of a man,
and not of a fungus, be social, lie broth
erly, bo charitable, bo sympathetic, and
labor earnestly for tho good of your kind.
Remember that every person, however
low, has rights and feelings. In all con
tentions let peace be rather yonr object
than triumph; value triumph only as the
means of peace.
Happy indeed are they whose intercourse
with the world has not changed the tone
of the holier feelings, or broken those
musical chords of the heart whose vibra
tions are so melodious, so tender, and
touching iu the evening of age.
The Temperance Whirlwind in the West,
The crusade of the women of Southern
Ohio against the liquor saloons increases
in extent, and importnncOi A dispatch
from Cincinnati says:
At Franklin, Warren county, tho ladies
nro Seriously besieging all the saloon
keepers with prayer meetings. One of
the German saloon keepers have signed
their pledge add Joined iu with the servi
ces held iu liis former bar-room. The same
man had hired a hand last Friday and
tried to give a ball, while the ladies were
in front singing hymns and praying.
Towards evening the dancers went to the
dwelling of the manager and told him
they could not stand this. They aban
doned the holding of the ball at his house,
and went to the extreme lower end of the
town to a hall that was away from the
prayer circle.
At Woynesville, Warren county, SeVeral
saloon-keepers hold out, aud it is said the
roughest met! find it sometimes Impossibl"
to restrain tears as the ladies kueel on the
flags in the cold or storm. A picket of
ladiei watched the saloons oil Saturday
night, and immediately surrounded the
doors when any man tried to enter for a
drink. One of the saloon-keepers lias
sold his stock to an active promoter of the
crusade, and he W. 1 mote West. Depu
tations of ladies visit each suliion daily.
On Saturday at Waynesville, the largest
temperance meeting that lias yet beeu
held assembled. The * enthusiasm Was
such tlmt the meeting continued for over
three hours. At one time the packed
multitude rose en masse to testify that
they would never cense their efforts till
the last vestige of the whisky traffic is
banished from the towm
At London, Madison county, the ladies
are visiting the saloons, groceries and
drug stores, The druggists there have
unanimously signed til i pldege. The
saloon keepers number twenty-five, some
of whom are hostile and some non-com
mittal. If ordered out of a saloon, the
ladies immediately organize their prayer
meeting on the ri ewalk. In a temperance,
s.i ec the Rev. Mr. F uley said: “YeS
we will send the ladies to these places, and
if an insult is offered them, let us see it;
let them dare to touch my wife; we will
rise as one man and enforce the laws of
our country.”
At McArthur, Vinton comity, the ex
citement is the r" tense ever known
in the village. 1 _ idies are making the
rounds of the saloons daily, and at each
one they present the pledge to the
proprietors to quit the sale of intoxicating
liquors. One of tho dealers capitulated,
closed liis saloon, and signed both the
personal and dealers’ pledge. The re
mainder of the dealers have agreed to quit
the business as sooti as they can dispose of
their stock on hand.
“Making Up With Her."
We old fellows have all been there, and
we can remember all about it. We loved
her—guess we did I—and we knew that
she loved in return. But one day she
gave Sam Tompkins a smile, or she let
Tom Watkins Walk home with her under
mi umbrella, or she did some other simple
tiling, and we got huffy. We loved her
all the time, but we sat down and Wrote
her a letter, dating it at midnight, saying
that we wanted all those letters and that
ring and that photograph back. We
hoped slio wouldn't return ’em but we
felt H malicious pleasure in punishing her.
The letter was sent, or handed to her per
sonally, and we met her with a cold "good
morning," ns she came to school, but be
stowed our best smile on Litvina Wedge,
tlio homliest girl in the town.
Our heart, ached when we looked across
the desks and saw her slyly reading the
letter and trying to keep back the tears;
but we went oVef to the third girl behind
to borrow a geography, nnd to tho second
girl in front to borrow a grammar, and we
were entirely unconscious of the presenoo
of the girl we loved. Wo Btood beside
her in tho class as straight ns a polo, never
letting on Hint we saw her, and the mutual
agreement that if one missed the other
should do the same in order to keep to
gether, was broken. We tried to feel
maliciously glad when We Went to the head
nnd left her uear the foot, but we couldn’t
do it.
It went on this way for throe or four
days. Once in a while we caught her
lookiug at us with a sad, sweet smile, as if
she were some poor orphan with no friend
in the world; and her note said that she
couldn’t part with tho letters and the
keepsakes. We held out bravely until it
began to hurt us tho most, and then we
got ready to "make up.” It couldn’t be
done suddenly, that would lie acknowl
edging our wrong. We waited until noon
time, and then as she eat her dinner in
her seat we begun lookiug for a lost book.
We thought it was under the seat next to
hers, and while wo were looking for it she
spoke again. Then we coldly replied, but
sat down near by and asked if "she had
those letters with her. ” She said no, and
we moved nearer. She said it wasn’t her
fault, and we said it wasn’t ours, and
somehow onr fingers touched.
No one knew what a burden of anxiety
was rolled away in five minutes, and how
much clearer the afternoon sun shone for
it. She seemed dearer than over before,
and when the brown eyes cleared the team
away and the merry dimples came back,
wo wondered how we could have been
such an unfeeling wretch; and yet it was
the same thing over in less than six weeks.
Ah, me ! Those lovers who have had a
smooth path and married without having
qnnnels and make-ups and jealousies will
never know what true love is.— M. Quad,
in Our Firetide Friend.
An Innocent Man Sent to Prison fob
Ten Years. — Quine;/ IU. February 4.
The Quincy whig this evening contains
the written confession of Mathews, the
Joliet convict, to Commissioner Bane,
relative to the imprisonment of Maurice
Strauss, now serving a term of ten yearn
ta the New Jersey State prison, charged
with crime never committed. Mathews
confesses committing the robbery for
which Strauss is imprisoned assisted by
McWilliams,Chief of Police of Jersey City,
who planned the robbery, and contrived
the plan for throwing the blame upon an
innocent person, who lias been .in prison
three years. Mathews, who has been in
prison in several States, was arrested a
year ago in this State for larceny, and sen
tenced to Joliet for four years. His state
ment is evidently truthful. Commissioner
Bane saw Strauss in Trenton prison
nliout a month since, and made the facts
known to the authorities.
The more we do for another’s happiness,
t ie more we promote our own.
MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS.
will tike! Gushing ah hosier thing
10 sit on thah Sickles.
The seat of the Chief justice lifts becki
long in filling, yet it was Cosy to Waite.
female fowls are best for disjicpticsv
because they Set best Oh the stomach.
When gbod-will goes gadding, he khust
not be surprised if ill-will sometimes
nkeets hital oh tllo Way,
Dou’t punish too much bait whiskey. It
is wrong to injure yourself in your efforts
to put your enemy doWm
NO. 42.
There Art) MVehty-ono thousand fivO
bundled aud sixty-four Miles of railroad
in the United stales.
til Arkansas when A Matt Wulks into a
house and shoots the proprietor Mid others
he is styled "ttn intruder.”
A‘genius is popularly snfd to bo one who
can do everything except make a liv
ihg.
The Persians say of noisy. Unreasonable
talk: “I hear the sound of the millstone,
but I see no moah"
A crusty old bachelor says that loVo is a
wretched business, consisting of a little
sighing, a little crying, a little dying ana a
deal of lying,
"I should have no objection to my wife's
reigning,'' ssid an affectionate husband,
“if it were not for the fact that when she
reigns she is so apt to storm also,"
"Experimental philosophy—asking a
young Indy to marry you. NutUhil philoso
phy—looking indifferently und saying you
were only ill fun when she refuses you. ”
"Well, Bridget, if I engage you I shall
want, you to stay at home whenever I shall
wish to go out. ” “Well, lnn’am I have
no objections, providin’ you do the same
when I wish to go out,"
A horse forty-two years old has to drag
il family to church every Sunday in South
Durham, Me,, after his W-eek’s Work ana
that is what they call Christian piety iu
that putt of the country,
A New Haven editor spent last Sunday
in SlaWsorl, and attended church. Wheri
tho Contribution box came around lie was
in a doze, but Oil being nudged, hastily
exclaimed, “I have a pass."
“Consider tho lilies of the field; they
toil not, neither do they spin.” This is
wliat our flowery daughters tell their
mammas. Yet Solomou in all liis glory
was not arrayed like one of these dani
sellsi
A lady of the shoddy aristocracy found,-
on returning from a walk, some cards off
her table. She culled a servaflt Iff great 1
haste, saying: “John, John', take these'
and run quick ! them ladies is forgot tlicit
tickets,"
A man if! Fayette county, Penn.,read inf
an ulmiumr- that his feet could be kept
warm by tilling his boots with ceyenno
popper. He doesn’t feel much like. Walking
now, but he says he Would like “to find'
the man what put that in the almanac.”
The celebrated Rothschild family, now
having some twelve business houses, are
found to possess fuff onu thousand mil
lions of dollars, including tho private
property of the principals—a sum equal
to the not indemnity paid by France to -
Germany.
A returned soltliernt Northampton,Mass.-
swears that he saw the following inscrip
tion on a brown slab above the grave of a
deceased wife in the White fitmr region of
Arkansas during his campaigns:
She washed the children, fed fhe fowls,-
Aud made her home rcßouud with howls.
A strutting broker in New York lately
asked iliiotner, who had a bald pate, why
his head was like' h-hasli in a b-boardiug
house. The disgusted friend, on admit
ting that lie didn’t Iciro 1 # Was Informed
that ’twns because th-tliero's a h-hairi
h-h-bero attd th-there.
An absent minded Man entered a shoe
store the other day and Wanted his boy
measured for a pair of shoes. “But
where’s the boy ?" asked the dealer. "Sure"
enough,*’ Raid the man; “I’ve left the boy
at home 1 I’ll go nnd get him;” and off he’
started for his house, six blocks a#ay.
A youth, passing dowft Fourth street,
saw a handsomely embellished specimen’
truss hanging in a shop window und sus
pended from it a tag with this legond:'
“Patent Rupture Truss—none like it.”
“Well,” said Rnsticns, eyeing it with
suspicious look, and edging away, appre
hensively, “I shouldn’t thiuk they would
like it.”
Daughter of the house to a privileged
old friend of the family; “Dear Mr. Lu
pus, yon don’t seem to be enjoying yonir
self. I should like to hate yon Waltz this l
once with me.” Privileged old friend:
“My dear child, I don’t dance; but, if it
snits yon, I wouldn’t mind sitting here
with my arm around your waist, while the
others are making themselves dizzy.”
A New naven revivalist the other night
painted tho future state of the wicked in
gloomy colors, and saying that his father
died a very wicked msn nnd had gone to
hell, was proceeding, when a young man
rose to go out. The preacher at once an
nounced that there w; s a youug man going
straight to the same burning region, when
the seceder stopped and coolly asked:
“Well, elder, don’t you wnut tosend somo
word to your father ?”
A gentleman was walking with his lit-110
boy at the dose of tho day, and, in passing
the cottage of a German laborer the boy’s
attention was attracted to a dog. It was
not a King Charles nor a black and tan,
but a common cur. Still the boy took
a fancy to him, and wanted “pa” to buy
him. Just then the owner of tho dog
came home from his labors nnd was met
Viy the dog with every demonstration of
dog joy. The gentleman said to the owner:
“My little boy has taken a fancy to yonr
dog, and I will bnv him. What do you
ask for him ?” “I can’t sell dat dog 1"
said the German. “Look hero,” said the
gentleman, “that is a poor dog any way,
but as my boy wants him I will give you
five dollars for him.” “Yaas,” says tho
German. “I knows he is a worry poor dog,
and he ain’t wort almoso nottin, but derc
ish von leetle ding mit dat dog vot I can’t
sell. I can’t sell tlio vng of his tail ven I
coomes home at night.”
There is a most ingenious marshal in
Flnßhing.il. I.,'a gentleman who is remi fli
able for the success of his little games on
people. Just before New Year's a little
girl gavo him two dollars to get her a
pair of gloves in New York, for a present.
The Flushing marshal got the gloves for r>
dollar and a quarter, told the little giil
they cost one dollar and threoiquarte’' ,
gave her a quarter change, put the hah
dollar in his pocket, anil nearly chuckled
himself in to a ca e of genuine apoplexy
over tho sncccss of his operation.
New Year morning his wife presented him
with a pair of g ov -r.and explained how she
had secretly arranged for their purchase
with a little girl. The Flushing marshal
put tho gloves in his pocket., smiled lightly
and narrowly escaped fainting dead away.
We purposely avoided bringing out thi
hero until after President Grant had sa--
cared hie Chief Justice.