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GALLAHER’S INDEPENDENT, PUBLtPHBB BYBRY SATURDAY AT ua., J. C. GALLAHER. tKrMs op aunaruiPTioY ■ tiVO DOLLARS par Annum it* Advance. A DREAM. *Tliq Strly mopnliKht, faint and maek,, tVU iu *lsll* lines uruw her bed, and to gems on lash and check Xhe tearn that had but now been abed. Sleep. coming with the ahadoua, brought A slo* relief from grievous thought. It nulled the present sharp distress, The aenso of loss too hard to boar, The haunting thought of lonoiiucHH, The imminence of untried cure. Bhc lost rememb-aneo of the pain That dawn would surtdy bring again. Bho lost the world ; so tardily Another consciousness was born, And then dreamed that she was free, Wandering beyond her life, forlorn ; And soul and body still were wed, Although it seemed that she was dead. Some miglitv power, unseen and strong Had cast her in an angry sea : Bho strove to breast its billows long ; Aud, as sbo struggled wearily, Bbu saw a low black lino of shore, With lights upon it, just before. And, striving atilt more urgently, Shu almost almost reached tmi t wished-for land; Then a great wave rose in the sea And bore her over rocks and strand ; llollcd back, aud left her there, alone Aud helpless iu a laud unknown. But while she lay there, torn and bruised, And dripouig with the chilly brine, She seemed to see, with sense confused, The darkness round abot her thine— To feel a touch that charmed all pain -brm broken frame aud weary brain. ‘And ono bent near with pitying face; Bo grave, so gentle, aud so sweet, Bo lull of promise and of grace, hlie smiled, while lying at his feet*— As homesick children, home once more, Forget the grief that came before. He led her to the inner land— The night wtu* hard beset by day— She was content to hold his hand. (it scorned there were no Words to say, Because she understood so wi ll Whatever there could be to toll.) She saw the place was glad and bright, With welcome strangeness heaven fraught ; Bhc baud not kuown it by the sight, Aud yet it was not new to thought; All happy living things were there, Befitted, u suit a finer air. A little bird flew from above And softly lit upon her head ; She knew it for a petted dove Bhc loved in childhood, long since dead ; The Christ *.oiled, a* she spohe its name, Aud said, “We kept it til]you came.' ’ And there were flowers and trees and sky All wraiths of olden memory ; Each tiny detail, far aud nigh, . With some jmst beauty did agree. The Christ said, “Bee ! they are the same; We k* pt then for you till you came.” Then suddenly abe hoard a voice Like some dear Wcil-rt niembered song ; It made her very heart rejoice At comfort it had wanted long, Hue knew, ere sight could satisfy, lie she had mourned for stood close by. Again her radiant leader smiled i'lro s.uile toll more than words could say: “lon needed uot to mourn, my child, KorOod keeps all he takes away.” Again 11.. *.du, “Tin y an the sumo ; lie kept tttcui for you till yu OjttUo.” They lived a joy that naught can tell; Oolight libit filled infinity : Love, with no former parallel, An utter peace that ndKceii made free. But, breaking through hm glimpse of grace, A murmur scorned to till the plain. The vision faded, passed away, And left the darkuss blank and old ; Bhc mw tli light of dawning day far iu the east. The air was cold : Tho cock’s shrill warning of the sun Told of another day begun. SENT BY EXPRESS 1 Oil, WHAT FRANK EVANS MISSED, Marino Harlan was alone iu the world— her mother just buried, She was a beautiful, brown-haired girl, with soft, shy eyes of violet gray, and rosy li|j compressed to a firmness far beyond her years. For after all she was scarcely seventeen, and so Deacon Gray was telling her, as he sat by the fire spreading his huge hands over the tardy blaze, and asked : ‘But what are you goin’ to do to earn bread and butter, child ?' 'I don't know—l havn’t thought. Ma nia had an uncle in New York, who ’ ‘Yes, yes—l've heel'd tell about him— he was mad ’cause your mother didn’t mar ry just exactly to suit him, wasn’t it ?’ Marian was silent. Deacon Gray waited a few minutes, hoping she would admit him into her secret meditations ; bnt she did not, and the deacon went away homo, to tell his wife that ‘that Harlan gal was the very queerest erector ho had ever come across. ’ In the meanwhile Marian was busy pack ing her few scanty things into a little car pet-bag, by the wierd, flickering light of the dying wood fire. ‘I will go to New Y’ork, ’ she said to her aelf, setting her small pearly teeth firmly together. ‘My mother’s uncle shall hear my cause pleaded through my own lips. Oh, I wish my heart would not throb so wildly 1 I am no longer meek Minnie Har lan, I am an orphan, all alone in the world, who must fight life’s battles with iier own single hands.’ Lower broadway, at seven o’clock in the evening 1 What a Babel of crashing Wheels, hurrying humanity, and conglom erate noise it was ! Minnie Harlan sat iu the corner of an express office, under the flare of gaslight, surrounded by boxes, an,l wondered whether people ever went crazed in this perpetual din and tumult. Her dress was very plain—gray poplin, with a shabby, old-fashioned little straw bonnet tied -with black ribons, and a blue veil, while her only arrticle of baggage, the little carpet-bag, lay in her lap. She had sat there two hours, and was very, very tired. ‘Poor little thing P thought the dark haired young clerk nearest her, who in habited a sort of wire cage under a circlet of gaslights. And then took up his pen and plunged into a perfect Atlantic ocean of accounts. ‘Mr. Evans.’ ‘Sir.’ The dark-haired clerk emerged from his VOL. 111. cage with his *n-u behind his ear, in obe dience to the beckoning Auger of his su perior. ‘I have noticed that young woman sit ting there for some time—how came she here ?’ ‘Expressed on, sir, from Mdlington, lowa,—arrived this afternoon.* As though poor Minnie llarland were a box or parcel. •Who for ?’ •Consigned to Walter Harrington, Esq.’ ‘And why hasn’t she been called for ?’ ‘I sent up to Mr Harrington,s address to notify him some time ago ; I expect an answer every moment. ‘Very odd,’ said tho grey-haired gen tleman taking up his newspaper. ’Yes sir, rather. ’ Some three-quarters of au hour after ward, Frank Evans came to the pale girl's sido with indescribable pity in his hazel eyes. ‘Miss Harlan, we have sent to Mr. Har rington’s residence ’ Miuuie looked up with a feverish red upon her cheek, and her bauds clasped tightly on the handle of the faded carpet bag. ‘And wo regret to inform you that he sailed for Europe at twelve o'clock this day. ’ A sudden blur came over Minnie's eyes she trembled like a leuf. Iu all her cal culations she bad made no allowance for any exigency like this. •Cuu we do anything further for you ?’ questioned tho young clerk, politely. ‘Nothing—no ono can do anything now /’ Frank Evans had been turning away, but something iu the piteous tones of her voice appealed to every manly instinct within him. ‘shall I send to any other of your fete lids ?’ ‘I have no friends.’ Perhaps I can have your things sent to some quiet family hotel ?’ Minnie opened her little leather purse aud showed him two ien-oent pieces, with a smile that was almost a tear. This is all tho money I have iu the world, sir !’ ‘So young, so beautiful, and so desolate! Frank Evans had been a Now Yorker alt his life, bnt ho had never met with an exactly parallel case to this. Ho bit the end of his pen iu dire perplexity.’ • ’But what are you going to do ?' ‘I don’t know, sir. Isn’t tuere a work house, or some' such ,-lace I could go to, until J could find something to do ?' ‘Hardly,’ Frank Evans could scarcely help smiling at poor Minnie’s simplicity. ■They are piittiug out the lights and preparing to dose the office,’ Haiti Minnie, starting nervously to her feet. ‘I must go—somewhere. ’ ‘Miss Harlan,’ said Frank, quietly, ‘my home is a poor one—l am only 9 five hun dred dollar clerk— bnt I am •■lire my moth er would receive you under her roof for a day or two, if you can trust mo.’ •Trust you ?’ Minnie looked at him through violet eyes obscured in tears. *Oh, sir, I should be so thankful 1 ***##*# ‘How late you are. Frank 1 Here—givo mo your overcoat—it is all powdered with snow, and— ’ But Flunk interrupted his bustling, cher ry-cheeked little mother, us she stood on tip-toe to take off his outer wrappings. ‘Hush, mother ; there is a young lady down stairs.’ ‘A young lady, Frank ?’ ‘Yes, mother ; expressed on from lowa to old Harrington, the rich merchant. He sailed for Europe this morning, and she is left entirely alone. Mother, she looks like poor Blanche, and I knew you wouldn’t refuse her a corner here until she could find something to do., ‘Mrs. Evans went to the door and called cheerfully out; ‘Come up stairs, my dear—you’re as welcome as the flowers in May 1 Frank,- you did quite right; you always do.’ The days and weeks passed ou, and still Minnie Harlan remained aninmateof Mrs. Evans’ humble dwelling. ‘lt seems just as though she had taken our dead Blanche’s place,’ said the cosy little widow ; ‘and she is so useful about the house. I don’t know bowl ever man aged without her. Now, minuie, you are not iu earnest abont leaving us to-morrow?’ “I must, dear Mrs. Evans. Only think —I Lave been here two months 10-worrow, and the situation of governess is, ve ry ad vantageous.’" “Very well. I shall tell Frank how ob a'inate you ure.” “Dearest Mrs. Evans, please don’t. Please keep my secret.” “What secret is it that is to be so relig iously kept?” asked Mr. Frank Evans, coolly walking into the midst of the dis cussion, with his dark hair tossed about by the wind, and his hazel brown eyes spark ling archly. “Secret!” repeated Mrs. Evans, ener getically wiping her dim spectacle glasses. “Why, Marian is determined to leave us to-morrow. “Minnie!” “I must, Frank. I have no right fur ther to trespass on yon kindness.” “No right, eh? Minnie, do you know that the old house has been a different bouse since you came into it? Do you suppose we want to lose our little sunbeam? Minnie smiled sadly, but her hand felt very cold and passive in Frank’s warm QUITMAN, GA., FRIDAY, JUNE 11, 1875. grasp. “You'll stay, Minnie?" “No.” She shook her head determinedly. “Then you must bo made to stay," said Frank. "I’ve missed something of great value lately, and I hereby arrest you on suspicion of the theft I” “Missed something?" Minnie rose turning red and white. “Oh, Frank, yon can never suspect me!” "But Ido suspect you. In fact, I am quite sure that tho article is iu your pos session.” “The article!" "My heart, Miss Minnie! Now look here -I know 1 am very young aud very poor, lmt I love you, Minnie Harlan, and I will he a good and true husband to you. ■Stay aud be my little wifel” Ho Minnie Harlan, istead of going out as a governess, according to tho pro gramme, married tho dark-haired young clerk iu Ellison's express office, New York. They were very quietly married, enrly iu the morning, and Flunk took Minnie home to his mother, aud then went calmly about, bis business in tho wire cage, under the circlet of gaslights. “Evans!” “Y’es, sir.” Frank with his pen behind his ear ns of yore, quietly obeyed tho behests of the gray-headed official. “Do you remember the young woman who was expressed on from Millington, lowa, two months since?” “Yes, sir—l remember her." A tall, silver-haired gentleman hero in terposed with eager quickness: "Where is she? I am her miele, Walter Harrington. I have just returned from Paris, when the news of her arrival reach ed me. I want her, she is tho only living relative left me.” “Ah! but, sir,” said Frank, “you can’t, have her.” “Can’t have her? What do you mean? Has anything happened?” “Yes, sir, something has happened. Miss Harlan was married to me this morn tug-” Water Harrington stared. “Take me to her,” he said, honrsley; “1 can't be parted from my ouly living rela tive for 11 mere whim." “I wonder if he cabs the marriage ser vice and wedding ring mere whims,” thought honest Frank; but ho obeyed ill silence. “Minnie," said the old man, in falter ing accents, “yon will come to me and be the daughter of my old age? f am rich, Minnie, and you are all I have iu the world. ” But Minnie stoic her baud through her husband's arm. “Dearest undo, he was kind to rae when 1 was most desolate and alone. I cannot leave my husband, Uncle Walter- I love him!” “Then you must both of yon come and be my children," said the old man, dog gedlv; “and you must come now, for the great house is as lonely ns a tomb." Frank Evans is an express clerk no longer, and pretty Minnie moves in velvet and diamonds; but they are quite os hap py as they were in the old days, and that is saying enough. Uncle Walter Harring ton grows older and feebler every day, ami bis two children are the sunshine of his declining life. Grant’s Third Term Manifesto. The day after the adjournment of the Republican Convention the Philadelphia Enquirer (Republican) said: “It can make little difference now whether the Presi dent speaks or remains silent, for Penn sylvania lias spoken, and with such dis tinctness and emphasis as to carry assur ance to the timid that if any third term aspirations have been indulged, their in dulgence was vain.” From the character of his third term manifesto it is evident Grant understands the real purport and meaning of theaction of the Radical politicians who controlled the Pennsylvania Convention better than the editor of the Enquirer. Grant knows what reliance to put in Radical platforms and resolutions. There was a good deal of jealously among the leaders and sorno honest dissatisfaction among the rank and file of the party on the subject of the third term business, and it was necessary to throw a tub to the whale to serve the tem porary purpose of deferring the issue until the proper time. For this purpose the in geniously drawn anti-third term resolu tion was passed. But Grant’s supporters knew how to get round a question which they dared not squarely and honestly meet, and Grant need entertain no fears that the men who voted for the sweeping and fulsome approval ftud endorsement of his administration will not at the proper time he easily convinced of the existence of a condition of circumstances rendering iris nomination a party necessity, and his ac ceptance of it “an imperative duty.” If we had ever entertained any doubts that Grant really aspired to a third term, his recent pronnneiameuto would remove all such doubts, and we are now equally assured that after all the professed opposition to his renomination, he-avill find no formi dable obstacle in the way of its accom plishment, and that it will be generally ac quiesced in by the majority of his party.— Savannah News. Maine has anew town called Skuteba watch iekatchio. GRAFTING THE GRAPE. In regard to grafting tho grape, Mr. A 8. Fuller says he has better success with fall than spring grafting, although many vinyardist prefer the latter season. For fall grafting, say at any time after the frosts kill the leaves and before tho ground freezes, this author tells us tho operation should he performed as follows: Helcct scions of tho present seasou’s growth and from canes a quarter to three-eights of an inch in diameter, and out into lengths of three inches, with a bud near tho upper end. The lower end should be made into a long slender wedge. Remove tho earth about the stock four to six inches, if tho main branching roots will permit of this depth; then cut off the vine a few inches below the surface,‘and square across; then split it with a chisel or knife, making as smooth a cleft as possible for tho reception of the wedge-shaped scion. If tho stock is an inch or more in diameter, two scions may be inserted—one on each side of tho cleft. Tho outer edge of tho wood of tho scion must be placed even with tho outer edge of the wood of the stock, no atten tion being paid to the uniting of the two, because one will be very thick and tlio oth er very thin. A nice lit of tho two is es sential, and in crooked-grained gnarly stocks, a smooth, even cleft oau only be made by cutting out the wood with a sharp instrument. But it does not matter how it is done, if it is well done. After titling tho scions to tho stock, wind a stout cord about them, in older to bold the former firm in its place, then pack the grafting clay or common soil about the stock entirely covering the wound made and tho lower half of tho scion, but leaving tho bud nnoovored. No grafting wax should bo used in grafting grape vines. After the scions have been inserted as di rected, invert a flower pot or a small box over each one; upon this place a quantity of leaves, straw or bay, then cover all with earth, rounding it np in order to keep the water from settling around tho grafted stock as well us to prevent too severe free zing. Early in spring remove tho covering, and if tho operation has been properly performed, the scion will be firmly united, and will push into growth as tho season advances, i have had Deleware, bum, and similar verities make a growth of from fifty to sixty feet of vino from a single bud in one seasi n, wheu set iu strong stocks in the manner described. . Grafting in the spring maybe perform ed same in manner, omitting tho covering, but it should be done very early, or after the leaves have started and grow th begun. The scions, however, should be out tally and kept dormant in some cool plu:e until wanted for use. Lawn tout Oar don. ■When I Mean to Marry. J. O. KAI'E. Win!! do 1 mean l<> marry? Well, ‘Tie idle tv dispute with futr; lint, if Vf.il to hu&r me *yU IVuy listen while 1 lix the (law,*. When <laii£hto:*B habte with eager foot A mother h toil to whare, Can inahu the pudding** which they oat Ami hieud the HtoekingM Which they wear; When mnidciiH look upon it man Ah in hiturit lf what they would marry. And not aa army soldiers seau A sutler or a commissary; When gentle ladies, who have got The otter of a lover’s hand, Consent to share his earthly lot, And do not mean his lot of land; When young mechanics are allowed, To iind and wed the farmer’s girls Wlio don’t expect to be endowed With rubies, diamonds and pearls; When wives in short shall freely give Their hearts and hands to aid their sponaoH, And live as they were wont to live, Within their sires’ ono-story houses; Then, madam—if I’m not too old— Kejoiced to quit this lonely life. I’ll brush my heaver, ceaso to scold, And look about me for a wife! The Wheat Crop. The Macon Telegraph anil Messenger says in Tennessee it in claimed the yield will reach an average despite sumo injury from frost in certain localities. The game may be said of Georgia and Alabama, though rust i-i reported in places. But the reports from the West are more un favorable. The Chicago Times publishes one hun dred and twenty-two special pispatclies from all sections of the West and North west, by which it would appear that the grasshopper alarm is subsiding iu Nebras ka, Missouri, Kansas, Minnesota and lowa. It seems the grasshopper is no grasshopper at all, lint a specieH of locust which appeared last year, and, after rav aging some sections, deposited their eggs before disappearing. It is the hatching out of the young insect that has caused such a panic. But experience demoustatea Hint they are much feebler than when incubated in the dry and rocky recesses of the moun tains, and are destined to a very brief ex istence. Also that they never fly beyond a certain limit eastward. The people are digging deep trenches, too, in their path, into which the voting insects fall nnu perish by millions. In some places so great lias been the slaughter that the stench is al most insufferable. Poismdny with Paris green is likewise resorted to. Iu California the wheat crop will fall be low the usual product, owing to the defi ciency in the rain fall, which is so esseu lial in that climate. But an exchange es timates that the wheat surplus, after de ducting the requirements of home con sumption, will he three hundred and fifty thousand tans,, with about haf ns much more from Oregon. The two Hiatus will have about $25,000,000 of wheat to spare for the famished East. Iu Pennsylvania and New York the yield will be very short also: But per contra, the adVieek from England, France anil other portions of Europe are iu the high est degree flattering. This will tend to check the exportation of grain, and allow the American supply to bo kept at home to supply our own wants. There is no fear, therefore, of a corner in wheat, or that prices will ad vance very materially. The Western corn crop is late hut prom ising, and the grass prospect excellent. Upon a survey of the whole field, there fore, croakers would do well to dry up and , retire. SHERMANS MEMOIRS. Simonson’s Shot that Killed Bishop Folk - The Tragedy Graphically Described by an Eye-Witness. To the Editor tlio Now York Herald: In your review of ‘Sherman's Me moirs,’ whut purports to be a statement of tlio manner in which Gen. Folk was killed is given, from which it appears that Sher nnin called'General Howard's attention to a gronp of officers on Fine Mountain, and ‘ordered him to compel if to keep under cover.’ Will you permit one who was at tached to Gen. Howard's headquarters, aud who was by his side daily on the Atlanta campaign—one who, beside the Fifth Imtiana battery that fired the fatal shot—to give the true story from my notes made that morning and published in a Western daily a few weeks afterward? There certainly 'a a grievous error either in your review or in Sherman's descrip tion of the tragedy. Gen. Sherman was not there, aud could not lmvo seen tho shot filed. Gen. Sherman may have, however, as he rode to the rear, where he met Howard, called his attention to what ho (Howard) would see when our party reached Gen. David Stanley’s front. Tho facts—in which I am sure l will bo sus tained in the main by Gens. Howard and Stanley and tho stntt' officers present—are these: On June 14 Gen. Howard itilif stuff leF their headquarters for the front, where Stanley's division of Howard's (Fourth) Corps had broken camp and were awaiting the order to attack Fine Mountain. It was just after sunrise. A mile or two iu rear of tile advance How ard met Sliermau, but the conversation between them I did not bear, its the two Generals conversed aside. Howard and staff joined Stanley and his staff on tho road, m full view of Fine Mountain, and as we drew rein and exchanged greeting, Stanley exclaimed: ‘Howard, do you see that group np there on tho crest of tho mountain? 1 wonder who they are. ’ We all brought our field-glasses to bear upon the point indicated, and could plain ly see three persons standing in front of the line of breastworks, and a large group in tlio background. Wo could not tell whether they were officers or privates, but as it was evident they were watching our movements, Stanley suggested that u few shots bo fired to drive thorn under cover. Howard, who igid suggested that Bishop Folk war in the party, made no objections, when Stanley turned to Captain Simon son, bin chief of artillery, with the re mark : ‘Simonson, can’t you nulimber, put a shot into that group, and give tho Bishop a mo ning salutation?’ •IT I try!” was Simonson's laconic reply. And away ho galloped to the rear A few minutes Infer a section of the Fifth In diana Battery (Simonson’s) was unlim bered within twenty feet of us. The Jiieiitenar.t sighted the gun and the shot exploded over and to tho right of the group, Hero my memory fails me, but. my impression is a second shot was sight- I oil ami fired by the Lieutenant with no better effect. Simonson, when the gun bad been reloaded, dismounted, and said, ‘Hero, Lieutenant, lot me try it.’ He I took the range and the messenger of death sped oil its mission. Our glasses were bent npou the group, and wo observed a commotion as the shot took effect. ill the group that scattered to the rear. While S monsoii was upon his knees sighting the gun for another discharge, Captain Leon ard, Chief of Howard’s Signal Corps, sit ting on his horse beside me, read the Con federate signal code that our officers had I interpreted at Lookout Moutain and caught the words; ‘General Folk is killed P With a look of amazement, Leonard turned to Howard aud Stanley and exclaimed : ‘Bishop Folk is killed !’ ‘What?’ exclaimed Howard, ‘have you interpreted the signal correctly ?’ ‘Yes, General ; Simonson’s last shot killed him. They are signaling it along the line.’ The young men of the staff who were cracking jokes instantly ceased, and fora moment nonespoko. Then Howard said : •Well, a Christian has fallen. Such is war.’ Just then Simonson caught tho words, •Bishop Folk is killed 1’ He was sighting the gun, and lifting his eyes, that glared fearfully, exclaimed : ‘What is that, Leonard ?’ ‘Bishop Polk is killed ! Your Inst shot did it. They are signaling it over the mountain,’ I replied. ‘Simonson’s head dropped upon tne ‘vent where it rested a moment. Then, raising his eyes, ho exclaimed : ‘Thank God ! Yesterday they killed my dear brother ; I have killed a Lieuten ant General and am avenged I’ Without discharging the piece Simonson arose, remounted ami joined the staff'. Silently he repaired to his regular duties, and, the line being formed, wo advanced slowly against the mountain, every one of us feeling that we would have rejoiced bad some other than Louisiana’s fighting Bishop gone down before Simonson’s first anil only shot. The enemy was so demor alized that he evacuated the mountain, and half an hour afterwards wo stood upon the spot where Polk fell, and saw the ground stained with his blood. A day or two af ter poor Simonson, the only one of tin who rejoiced at the Bishop’s death, fell, shot on the skirmish line in A''worth Woods. Then was the Oontederaey avenged. It is possible that Gen. Sherman had been to the front that, morning, and. seeing the group referred to, ordered Howard to dis perse it; but certain it is that ho was no where near Howard when Simonson’s shot felt for the heart of Leonidas Polk, the fighting Bishop. — Abolition of Slavery in Portugal. Information him been received at the Department of State, in Washington, of the passage by acclamation, on the 22d of March last, of an net by the Gourtes of the Kingdom of Portugal granting uncondi tional freedom to the remaining Portu guese slaves, known as apprentices or freedmeu. This act has not as yet been ofiioiully printed by the government in tho customary form. Apprenticeship is to cease iu one year. Freedmeu who have no trade or business, or cannot road or write, muy be subject to tutelage by the civil authorities, hut this right of tutelage shall cease April 28, 1878. The labor of those under tutelage is declared free, and they ure to he at liberty to make their own contracts, subject to tho revision of the proper authority, such contracts to lie iu no cuso binding for more thun two years. How They Met—A Street Car Scene. Wo witnessed a pathetic seouo on a street car going to tho Union depot. Be sides ourself, thero was only one passen ger, a lmndsomo lady, well dressed, and just in the prime of life and matronly ma turity. About midway between Main street and the depot n genteel, good-looking man stopped the ear and got aboard. As he stepped into the ear the lady jumped to meet him, with tho exclamation : “Oh, Harry, is it you ?’’ Answering, “Yes, Jen nie,” ho caught her to his bosom in uii im passioned embrace, bis face tllO very liic tlire of happiness; while the lady looked the impersonation of contentment audjoy. Mutual explanations ensued, in the course of which we learned that tho twain had separated from each other during tho war, and had not met since. “Harry” said that he hud wandered over the earth in sadness and sorrow, a yearning for his first lovo always tugging at his heart ma king him restless, nnd causing him.to con stantly bo on the move. He lmd been to California and in the mines of Nevada nnd the Territories. With plenty of money at. his command, he had been inßruzil and other South American States, and was now on a tour through his own country. “Jen nie” had never forgotten him, hut hud nightly prayed for his safety and welfare, and lor his return; sho had wept bitter tears over bis absence, aud hud eveu searched for him at different places. Sho hud forgotten all misunderstandings nnd bickerings between them that so envel oped her life in misery, aud “Oh, Harry,” she said, “if yon will just take mo back to your heart nnd love again I will be tlio iinppiest little woman iu all the world.” Tlio tears were in “Harry’s” eyes as be took her in his strong arms, and kissing her, swore that she was his forever. Ho Hiiid he had “plenty of money to keep yon, Jennie, and the babies in style, and though I was going the other way I will buy a ticket for St. Louis, and we’ll go home.” We could not omself repress a tear of sympathy, and sincerely rejoice that these loving hearts are again united. Let us trust no darkness may over again fall upon their lives, but that they may go down together through tho vale of llfo iu happiness. —Houston Tehyfitph, Boynton s Rivals. On Tuesday last a number of New York business men and officers of life insurance eoinpmiies, nccoinyauicd Captain J. B. Stoner down the bay to test tho efficacy of liis new life-saving suit. The inventor, with four companion's, Miss' Guyner, Mrs. Moore nnd her sister, a girl eleven years old, and John Stratton, remained in tho water for an hour without being wearied or chilled, and the experiment subsequent ly demonstrated the utility of the inven tion. The suit is in tluee parts, eacn of which, when used alone, .will prevent a person from sinking in water. Tho part of the suit first put on is of India rubber, and covers the person completely, leaving only the face and hands exposed. A weight of live pounds is attached to each ankle to keep tho body erect. A jacket with twelve air tubes, each capable of keeping a per,son afloat, is fastened nromkl the body, with straps over the shoulders. A pillow is at tached to the shoulders, which, when in liated, will support the head, if the wearer desires to rest by laying on his back. A buoy which eau be attached to the suit by a rope, continues a flag, flagstaff and rock ets, besides having room for provisions, ■ - Dreaming. What %‘oud i ons consolation comes to us iu those blessed hours when (lie body lies resting. The spirit roams at will, nor dis tance, space, or time can seperato us from onr love. The treasures snatched away by death are ours again. Forms only dust to day, are with us (is in bygone years. Tbo same tint of hair the same shade of eyes; the same rich coloring of lip, and expanse of brow; the same expression. The little peculiarities which endeared them to our hearts, make dreaming a blessed reality. How apt we are to exclaim, when waking "Oh, could I dream the same again!” Be reaved mother, you are comforted when your baby nestles in your arms again; the little fingers thrill you when wandering as of old. The wee face breaks into smilesat yonr caress! You would bold baby thus for ever. Alas! you must awake—awake to find nil empty cradle, empty arms, and u longing heart. There is more pleasure in dreams than in realities. The awakening embitters both. My sister, my brother, have you awakened from the sunny dreams of youth? Are the hopes you cherished dead? Have friends ■forsaken yon? Has disease claimed you for his prey? Because that was so bright, and this so dark, will you allow your life to be a failure? If you cannot he what yon would, will you not lie wl-at yon can? Can you kindle ashes? \Vill you live a rigbt? _ Young Men. This year is sure to lie the hardest one you have ever known. Money will he scarce, provisions high and difficult to ob tain. Now', we wish to tell yon that it is not yet too late to go to work. If yon are in the country stay there; if you are in town fine to the country and pull off your coat and go to work without delay. Do this and you may be saved. “If yon dully you are a (Instant, If you ileubt vmi are damned.” On you and your toughened sinews tlie country relies. The old men of the land can never redeem its lost fortunes. You limy he men if you will; success is within your grasp.—Thcrmopyhe had lint one messenger of defeat, you need have none. Leonidas and his three hnndered perished as heroes; if you starve it will lie as worth less idlers. You have waited long enough for “something to turn up.” Rise like Sampson when he shook the stout cords from his fettered limbs; shake off laziness from your stout arms and seize the plow and ply the hoe early and lute, if you fail blame ns with it. To those wliQ are already in the field wo would beg them be of good cheer, for in the season they shall reap if they fail not. Tremendous explosion recently occur red in San Francisco, caused by the care lessness of a single individual, one Clark, and resulting iu the death of Several per sons. One of the local journals thus pleas antly suggest an epitaph for the man who caused the sad disaster: “The explosion which c6st so many per sons their lives was caused by uspark from a pipe, which tiie man Clark wnssmokiug, dropping into some powder. They need not look for Clark’s brains; but when they get! the rest of him together they ought to lmry the fragments in a prominent square, and erect over them a monument, con taining the inscription: “Sacred to the memory of a d—'U tool!” MISCELLANEOUS. A doiighmeatio difficulty—heavy bread. A miss quotation, "a thing of beauty is a boy forever.” Egypt is a land of donkeys but they have morasses hr Ireland. Jones’horso is troubled with tho heaves. Ho heaves ovory one that attempts to rido him. It is told of rf ftiffflor in Canada, noted for his penurious habits, that ho split his' matches. "Oau animals sffffet pain?” is the latest question. Stick a pin into a ululo’a hind leg and see. Tho Rev. George Oakebread has accent ed a call In Mount Flcasnnt, lowa. Wo suppose lie’s kneaded thero. Husband—“ What’s the nso of going out this muddy weather?” Wife—" What’s tho use of having striped stookings?” It is said that Professor Tyndall has had ocular demonstrations of Bound. Ho has seen his bed tiuk. ft OolUmhus (Tenn.) druggist spelled rhapsody “wrap-soda, and snt down with it smile of beaming self contentment. In Lancaster, Fa., tlicri is a man milli ner by the inline of Gmiu. Ho must have been thC man who originally shot the hut. Considerate father. 1 ‘'You should eat Graham bread, my son; it lifuftes. bone.” Responsive youth: "H’m, I’ui , bout all boues now." “Hullo, Bub I trying to get nn appetit e for your dinner?” “Well, u-o-o,‘ no? ex actly; fact is, I’m trying to get a dinner for my appetite.” An exchange. interogat-es itself after this fashion; “What holds all' tile ebfuff in the world?” And answers, “No one nose.” It's enough to Macaboy laugh. Boor little America and her centennial! 1 Japan has just been celebrating the two thousand five hundred nnd tliAty-fifth an niversary of tho Japanese empire.’ A boy writing a letter to bis sister, said:’ “Sarah Jane Gibbs is dead, and her mother’s got twins They arc girls, aud this is awful lfno Weather for direks.” An Englishman having been solicited to' twin a Black Hills expedition, replied thur “hit fe better to bear the bills wo’live" than lly to bothers that we know not of,” A' Gorman woman iu Brooklyn lately en tered a crockery store and astonished the clerk by asking for “a leetlo Beecher.” A little pitcher was what she wanted. “Every tree is subject to' disease,” said a speaker in a fruit growers’ Convention., "Wliiit aiTirfeilt Can yon find on an oak?” asked the chairman. "A-coru,” was tho triumphant reply. A Milwaukee hired girl attempted sui cide because she broke a saucer. So far so' good. You are astonished, of course, hut listen further r She had hardly recovered when sho broke six plates and swore the cut did it. The worst case of selfishness that ever has been presented to the public, emanated' from a youth Who complained because his’ mother ptit a bigger mustard plaster on' bis younger brothel* than she did off him. NO. 0. Over the shop door of a pork butcher in an English village in an eastern county may bn seen a sign-board representing a man in a black coat brandishing a lmtchot, with the inscription, “John Smith Hlif pigs like his father.” The Middletown Evening Post sfijs that Miss Susie Dewsnnp, of that village, is go - iug abroad rts a' foreign missionary. How seldom it is that young ladies deWsnttp at such opportunities for doing good to their heathen fellow creatures! Here's a Yale College ditty:-—“And if it is a girl, sir, we’ll dress her up in blue, and send her out to Saltonstall to couch the Freshman crew; and if it is a boy, sir,' we’ll put him on the ere-.v, and let him wax the Harvurds, as his daddy used to do.” A good story is attributed to Sheridan’s' son Tom, who being told by his father, that he had made his w’fjl and cut him off with a shilling, said ho was sorry, and im mediately added: "You don’t happen to' have the shilling about you now, sir; do’ you?” "Gracious heavens, doetorl do’ y>ou mean to tell mo that I must do without stimulants altogether?” “Certainly. If by any chance you should feel a. sinking In - twcum your meuls, I can’t object to—a- ’ll/ a -J" “Yes!—yes ” “ WiudgUtss ful of cold water, you kfio'W.’’ Two brothers down east were noted for the earnestness with which they took part in plilic worship. One day the elder brother, in descanting off the characterist ics of each, said: “Brother George cuff exhort and sing, but be can’t pray. I cun' pray liis shirt off!” “Will, John,” said a snndny-sbhonf teacher to anew scholar that hail been' gathered from the highways, “how old are you?” "Six years, mum.” “Have you any brothers or sisters?” .“One —Bob . —that’s all.” How old is ho?” “Ditnno, ma’am; hut he’s just comujonoed for tu chaw terbacker.” “That ar’ pateh of ground’s mem’rible,” said an Omulm man, pointing to a grave’ all by itself outside the town. “I reckon you’ll know that, stranger, when you sen it ng’iu- Tim oekvpant iff that Was the first man Hernia Greeiy ever told to git West—likewise he was hnug tot btealin’ u mewl.” I’at bought a sheep’s head, and waif writing down the receipt for cooking it. when a dog made off with it. Pat gave chase, shouting, “Como hack wid iuu sheep’s head, ye robber, ye!” bnt afti r is stiff inn lie had to givo iu, dead beat, when lie consoled himself with the remark, “Never moiiul; he hasn’t got the. resate.” . A man dropped iirto the post office ami wanted to know how in neb merchandise ho could send in one parcel. “Four pounds,"Was the reply. Then he blandly said he thought ho would send out to Ari zona four pounds of those red toy balloons, inflated; but lie had difficulty in gettiue out of the door in lime to ilodgo a mail bag. “Let me tell you what I heard to-day,” said a young lady to her admirer. “Wei/, tell us it, lam all ears,” responded tho gentleman. The lady earnestly gazed up on the speaker for some moments, and then she said, as though newly impressed with an overwhelming fact; “Well, so you’ are, to be sure. You oughtn’t ever get your hair cut.” A man bought a horse. It was the first one he had ever owned. Ho saw in newspaper that a side window iu a stable makes u horse’s eye weak ou that side; a window in front hurts his eyes by tho glare; a window behind makes him squint eyed; a window on a diagonal line makes him shy when lie travels; a stable without a window makes him blind. lie sold the horse. ( •’