Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

"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.