The Eugene City guard. (Eugene City, Or.) 1870-1899, July 25, 1885, Image 2

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I. kCAMNIKLL, - Proprietor.
O! bonnlo bird, that In tt.o brake exultant
dost prepare lliec
At poets do whose tliouidit are true, lor
wliil'i tlmt will upbear thee
(Ml! tell me. tell me, bunnle bird.
Canst thou not pipe of hope deterred?
Orennst thou nu of naught but rirtng
among lUu golden inendo?
Methlnks a bard rand thou art one) should
tilt hi ""UK to sorrow,
And tell of pain, n well a gain, that waits
u on the morrow ;
Hut thou art not a prophet, tliou.
If natnrlit but Jov -an touch thee now;
If, In thv heart, thou lnist novow that apeak
of Nature antfuUli.
Ob! I have held my aorrow dear, and felt,
tho' poor ami slighted,
Tbe aonn we love are those we hear when
. love l unrequited.
Hut thou art "till the slave of dawn,
Anil canst not niiiif till "iKht be none,
Till o'er the pathway of he 'awn the nun
bcaina shlue and ijulver.
Thou art the minion of the nun that rim In
bla splendor,
And canst not spare for Man fair the oni
that ahould attend her.
The moon, no sad and Oliver pule,
III il rt-XM of the nllfhtllllflllc;
And thou wilt kIiik on hill and dale no (lit
tles In the dnrkni.
For Queen and Klmi thou will not spare on
note of thine outpouring:
Kor thou art free aa .breeze be on Sutures
velvet tloorlnx;
The daisy, with It hood undone.
The grass, the sunlight and the sun
These are the Joys, thou holy one, that pay
thee for thy rIukIiik-
Oh! hush! Oh! biiKh! how wild a BUh of
rapture In the distance,
A roll of rhymed, a toll of chime, a cry for
love' admittance;
A sound that well from luippy
A flood of song whero beauty flout",
And where our thoughts, like golden bouta,
do nee in to eroes a river.
Tbl I the advent of the lark the priest In
gray apparel
Who doth prepare to trill on air lilt lnles
bummer carol;
This lx the prelude to the lay
The bird did sing In (.'leaar' day,
And will again, for aye and aye, In praise ol
(iod'a creation.
O, dainty thin, on wonder' wing, by life
and love elated,
Obi alnK aloud from cloud to cloud, till day
be coniec rated ;
Till, from the gateway of the morn,
The mi n, with all hi light uiiHhorn.
Ills robe of .lark lien round 111 in toru, doth
scale the lofty heavens I
Kric JUiukay (Iomimii), in AT. Y. IndrptndcnL
Her Attempt to Convort a Soore
of Femalo GosslporB.
"A man convinced against bin will I ol
tbe imne opinion still." Anil how much
more a woman! Ht 111 more a clique ol
women. If Bylvy North hod only un
derstood this, ho might have been an
bouored member of Dnlton' church lew
lug circle to thl day. l'erbap thla diu
not eem to her tho height of houor, aftei
her experience. Mi Kylvy was a quiet
honest, liiiile-iiiliilel old lady, owning
tluy houso and garden In Dnlton, whet
alio wa bom, having a few hundred dol
lar In the bank, and supporting hersoll
from year to your by the various arts
known to women of her condition in New
England couutry'town. She took In plain
owing, tacked comfortable, wove car
pel, dyed yarn, knit stocking, and Hindu
it her pi oud boast that sue bud "fended
for boraell" ever since she wu sixteen,
Hue win respected thoroughly lu tho vil-Ihl-!
elsewhere she had small nciiimint-
auee, for she "dwelt unions bor own peo
ple," She was liberal, too, for alio not
only through these fifty year supported
herself, but put u dollar Into the cuulribti.
tiott box eviry second Sunday in the
month, no mutter fur what obJ"ct the col
lection wit iulenileii; uil snareo
Miibn. If '.Suulro Hill, tho richest man
lu llullon, had given u Koods ill tin
same roporiion am
did, hi pra se I have been
in nil tho churches. North was,
moreover, u kind-heart xl creature, and
all the sick in tun town depended on being
fed with dainty und nourishing foul at
her hands, unless they had I und and
friumU which rendered her help needle,
all the children shured the fruit of her
two gr.'at apple-tree, una mo reward 01
merit in her Kiiuday-school class wu an
iuvilation to take tea at her house.
And be wa a good woman, good thor
oughly; .imehiit Impatient at time
with the ill-temper, the deceit und the uu
lrln.lnnaa of her fellow-creat urea : mine-
what et In her way, aud inti.lernnt of
other people' wavsj but on me wnoie an
estimable specimen of an earnestly re-IIl-Ioiii
and candid woinau. She had, how-
ever, led o (pilot and locluded a life that
few temptation nun uesei hit; sun unn
no worldly Wisdom, but tlierowas imnll
need for that In her position; she bought
her wood, her apples, her potatoes, of
Squire Hall, who alway gave her her
motiey' worth and a little more; she hud
one price lor her tewing, and never had
been beaten down bv any customer as yet;
and it seemed t her, when she (topped to
ponder ou the moiaphyaic and myterie
of this life, as she sometime did ou Sun
days, that it wu verv queer that people
should not all lo good and respectable.
She h-'lioved in hell, liecausoshetlioiight
iich a belief was remi red of her lu the
Hihle, but she avoided thinking about it,
because it semicd t her nothing which
concerned her or her nelghlxir. But of
late years, s life IHIton bad set up nil axe
fact tv on It wide brawling brook, and
rows of tcn.'ment -house dotted il hill
aide, the po uUti''i had Increased, the
chur.h wa liotter lllled, and tho sewing
ociety much augmented. If a rolling
(tone gather no mos, a r lling snow
ball catlitr much mass, and laltou did
In earlier dav the sewing circle had
consisted of the minister's, doctor's aud
tore-keener' wives, Mis llorca Viiiing,
our own Min Svlvv, and some eight or ten
farmers' wives f roiu tho outskirts of the
township; women w hose Innocnt gossip
had been of the state of religion, the price
of ugar aud calico, the short-coming of
hem aud rows, or that invaluable tiieme
the variou weather of their native cli
mate: but when the employe of the fac
tory brought their quota of women, not
only lo Increase the society, but to become
a majority therein, they brought with
them a mote vivacious and a more acrid
tvleef nolo and comment, and quite el
aside the lmp' eamenitie that had reigned
beforn. Even lh church music wa reha
bilitated. Mis IWcas mourned biit.Tly
t th a. "Weusedter have nothin' Sab
bath but them good old tune we could
all fall to au' sing, but nobody cau'l toiler
these ili: and quavers; 'tisu't lit for the
sanctuarv noways."
MissSvlvia could tut agree with her,
yet she herse f wss wounded mere deeply
bv another change in atfair. Since the ag
grcsii r- had tnkii hald of laltun and all
it work, with fuii intent to remake it
Into a modern ami lively villa;e, the
ewing circle, lis Sylvia' creal.'st re
rreation ai d social joy,ha I taknu a new
lo.e. liossip ran riot; friend ami foe
alike were harried, criticised and dis
cussed. Mrs. It's new Iwnnet, Mr. A.'i
butcher s bill, Mr. 1).' wav of haviug
company t k often, what Sir. t aid
about Mi. K . anil what Mrs. E siid lokf
had sajd ab.ii! .Mrs. wien s!ie I v.'d :r
Meridan; hints, half-told tales, innu-n-doe,
ull startled and vexed our spinster t
tranquil Mill; sue bjreit for awhile, a raid
lo lilt, up her voice, but ou the day when
she called to mind tho saying recorde 1 at
the head of this story her long paiieiice
had at lat expired.
Mr. Stack had et the tongu In mo
tion even before the quilt wa fairly
"Say !" alio l.e;on, "did anv of you no
tlce Mis' Bunnell a Hunday?" and then
the respoudnt took up the luckles Mr.
Bunnell, and bandied about her manner,
her dres. her housekeeping, and the state
of her soul, as wo who dwell In the rural
district have o'ttimes seen a brood of
hungry chicken wrangle over on little
bug, which each of them eagerly desires
o swallow.
When thia subject was at last ex
haunted, another wa taken up and thor
oughly ventilated; all with uch fore
gone conclusion, ucb wtty ite, su -h
malicious Insinuation, that dear Miss Syl
via' kindly heart burned with Indigna
tion, and on ber w ay home she spake
aloud out of her overflowing disgust,
"Seoin too bad, It really doe."
"What does?" e hoed a volcj from be
hind her.
"Why, Dorca Vinlnz! you skeert mo
out o breath. 1 dldu't know you wa be
hind me no more than nothing."
' I know thut; but what rile you o,
"Why. the way folk I trettlne to talk
In s'clety; goeni a if, by thoir tell, 'most
everybody In Dalton wa a hateful a can
"I,le," curtly rejoined Mis Dorca.
"You don't mean it?" asked astonished
"Jest what I do mean."
"But you don't mean to ay them folks
I tellln' lies deliberate:-"
"I mean to sav they're lyln'. because
they talk about what they don't know for
cert'ln, aud I cull that lyin'. If I was a
hettln' cbaractor I wouldn't be afraid to
bt that they couldn't prove ono carlhly
thing they've told coucernlu' any mortal
this hull afternoon."
"Oh donr!" said Sylvia, piteously; "now
you don't really th nk they're so bad at
that, do ye, Dorcas!"'
"I do. I ain't such an old lambkin as
you lie, Sylvy North, thot I don't know a
wolf bv its howl ef it goe round In a
sheop-skln. I've lived quite a spell to
Hnr'ford when I was learnm' tbe tallorln'
trade, and well I know what sech sort of
folks be. I've heerd 'em time and again,
and I mistrusted these wa th3 same
feather. But you've lived right along here
forever and amen, never bearin' nothin'
worse than the parou' geese cackle and
Dr. Ooodwlu' old mare whicker, and so
you're easy took in."
"Well, now, Dorcas, It don't seem as
though real respectable folks, church mem
ber and sech, would tell them stories
without they knowod they wa true."
"Law! they wouldn't make no bones of
lyln' about iou If they wanted to."
Thl wa awful. A cold shiver ran down
Mis Sylvy' back. Mis Dorca smiled
sarcastically; but what further fruit of
the knowledge of good and evil bIio might
have offered her companion she wa pre
ventod from offering by the proximity of
Sylvia's own door, Into which, for once,
she did not Invito Miss Dorca; an idea had
struck the simple, charitable woman, and
she wanted to be alone to think it over.
The result of this elaborated Idea was
that at the next society meeting, a Miss
Sylvy sat down at the still unfinished
quilt, she took Irom her pocket a doubled
piece of letter-paper and a pencil, and laid
them In her lap, where the quilt hid them
from observation, aud opened her enrs,
attent to take in whatever statement, hint,
or vague rumor went the round of the
church parlors that afternoon. We record
the conversation, but not the needless
mimes of the couversors.
"Say I did you see Susan Brook to
church yesterday? Why, she set there
with her eye shet all sermon-timo jest
like a dead image."
"They ny she don't like the new minis
ter a bit; she did that to slight him, you
mnv depend."
"Wei . If I didn't like a minister. I
wouldn't tuko that way of ahowiu' on't;
'tis tort of insulting to bo so public about
Mis Svlvv made a little noto on her pa
per; "See Susan Brook about sleeping in
Tho talk flowed on.
"Oh, did you hear how old Mi' Cole had
whlnned thoir bou id girl? Tho mislresg
upto tho Hock school-house says tie girl
come to school cry in' like mad, her bauds
all tore up."
"You don't say so! Well, I always
thou :ht Mis' Colo had a temper of her
own. the deacon looks so meek."
MiiKvlvy noted: "Seo Mis. Colenlsmt
Ilepsv lVrkms."
Then a sharp bl'jh voice made itself
heard: "Sue did! Our l.urnnv saw her o'
Saturday night comiu' down Huckleberry
Hill with Sain Coko in his buggy at 'most
ten o'clock. She knows 'twas C.diiv, for
'twasn't a covered lug zv. aud the moon
hone real bright, land l.uraiiv was jct
comiu' out of her folk's door. Vd let her
go home, because her mother lied a chill
Fiidav. and she wanted I.iiriinv to wash
tho clothes Siit'day, and she could leave
'cm in the tubs, and Sharp could bung 'em
out a Monilav."
"Tlmt ain't all, "put in a slow, hard voice.
"Husband wa c nuin' from a neighbor
hood meetin' ill Love Lane only last eveu
iu nud H he wa joggin' along ho passed
a counle down bv the spring walking con
siderablo slow, and he kind of turned
about to see 'em, and 'twas Cella King and
Sam Coke: and w hen be come home lie usK
me if I'd hoard anything about 'em, and 1
ask him what ho liiennt by that, nud then
be told how he seen em that time o' night
out there,"
"llin!" sniffed several of tho company,
and the first voio snapped :
"A bnbv could tell what nhr'11 come to,
a-standin' all day in that shopshowin' off
buuucts, her huir nil did up in puffs and a
curliu' cnto her forehead like a dull I Mie'd
better have gone out for somebody' help;
them good-lookiu' girls that ha'u't not no
body to look alter 'em 'most alway goes
tJ the bad.'
"Well. now. I can toil aouietliin' fur
ther." put in a flat, fnlse voice. " was
goiu' into Miss Case's shop Monday night,
say about ha' past leight, and I stopped to
look Into the winder InMore I opened the
door, and who should 1 see but Sam Coke
In the back part of tho store a-whisperin'
into Celye's car. I might ha' rattled the
knob betore goin' in, but I didn't; I don't
further no sech doin's; 1 just b nmced right
In quick, and vou'd ought to have seen her
juni. 7e walked off di-ivcf, but 1 knowed
there waisoiuelhin' wrong."
And o the orphan girl wa tossed like a
ball from ono to another till In r character
wa well blackened, while Miss Sylvy set
down these i barge ou her pajHT in vileut
Then Mrs. Tine, the widowed daughter
of tbe old minister of Dalton, who bad
"outlived his usefulness," ami wa now
existiug on the small pension his daughter
received trom the Government for her dead
husband' ervices iu the army, eked out
bv her writing smip'e little stone and
bits of rhyme for the "Caddreu't Corner"
of variou new spapers.
"Did vou h Mis' 1'inc't Mack silk a
"I cues I did!" echoed several voices.
"U ell, 1 don't know how he contrive
to get uch a die s that. 'Tw heavy
and olt, too, and c uldn't have cost, bus
band siiv, uud r five dollars a yard; and
husband know he used to keep s:or.', ye
"Yes, aud Inr pa goin' in that shabby
old ulster, aud his bat as brown mud!"
"And her bunnet to match, all set off
with cut jet leads. I priced some of them
be"d to Mis Case' the other day. ami
thev went beyond iiiy means, now I tell
"Lille alway was s'uck-u tiling when
she wanu't nothing but a girl, and setice
' mimed Captain rine you can't touc
brrwilh a ten-foot po!e; but 1 tbould
think she'd )e asham-d to pinch the p r
old i an m tor so herself up :iud e
widd r. too."
II Te was another Item for Mis Sylvy ;
but just us sue put It down the tou-b.-U
rang, und )ock .-t,ii' her u ite, sue weui
out to supper, and laen homo, tor sue
never staid to tho evouiug sjuiubid that
mippljiiieuted the nderuo u o. r ul work.
Much she pondered thut n ght oa the
course of action alio had almost decided
"They don't mean It; I know they
don't," she said to her -if. "1 bey heat
things, and b'lleve 'em; 'tis na.ural they
should, I a'pose; aud I kuow tuey'U be
real glad to find out theya'u't s i. I'll
lookout all tbetn thing to-morrow, frovi
dence permittin', and itraignten 'em out
the beat 1 can, for I kn w real well there's
mistake all round most likely; and I pre
sume to say Celye King I as good a girl
a steps. I know she is."
Ah, dear Miss Sylvy! she judged her
neighbor as we all do by hersell ; if ouly
all our judgments wera drawn trom as
pure and kindly a nature as hers, haw
tranquil our world would lie! So tue n it
morning Mis North put on her best bon
net and siipped into Mr. Brooks' house.
Mr. Brook was the miller of Dulton, and
Susan, his eldtrly duughter, kept his
house, for the other children wore ail mar
ried and settled far away, and the mother
long since dend. Susan was a bright,
prompt, outspoken woman, who did ber
duty with thorough eilieiency, and said
ber ay without thought of anything but
expensing her mind freely and honestly.
Kindly and generous o he was, her
frank speech made her many enemies, for
few of us Hie tho sharp crystals of truth
unless they are lot iu gold.
Susan wa at home; indeed, she ahvayt
was, for her futhor spout the day at tbe
mill, and she had to be ou the premis. s,
not only to do her work, but to take or
der for the mill, which wa the best p- rl
of a mile above Dulton, on tbe bills 'le,
down which poured Yeast Brook to join
Dalton iirook.
"Set down. I'm reul glad to see you,
Sylvy," wa her cheery gree.iug.
"I thought I shjuld llnd ye to homo, Su
san," answered the elder woman.
Yes, I have to 'stay by the stuff,' "
laughed Miss Brooks.
Miss Sylvy was no diplomatist, vet a
suddon odd shyness prevented her intro
ducing the motive of her cull at once; they
chatted a few minutes about various small
matters, and then she took courage and
a kid !
"How do you 1 ke tbe new minister?
"Not very much," was thi reply; "but
then other people UO. 1 xpect I am a lit
tle notional about minister. 1 like to hear
'em preach the gospel out straight, with
out airs and graces, and scrap of forrin
language switched In. What do we Dal
ton folks kuow about his German talk aud
his Latin remarks? I suppose there is
some that think it sounds good, but I
Terhnps they like it tho same as au old
'nniRn l'vn read about who was go over
come with a sermon that she had to
wait and tell the minister how pleased she
was, but when he asked her what particu
lar part mot her case, all she could say
was, 'Ob, that blessed Mesopotamlye!' "
Susan luughed.
"That's something, it's a fact; why. I
haven't really nothing to Bay against Mr.
Smith, ouly he dou't just suit my idees.
He fill the church, aud iut'rest the
young folks, nud that's hi business"
"Well, 1 asked you because I heerod
somebody sny that you set all day a Sun
day In nieetiii' with your eves shut, so's to
hnw vou didn't like him."
"If that n'ut Dalton ull over! Why, if
I hated him like p'sion, Miss Sylvy, 1
wouldn't do such a low kind of thing as
that. I 'speak iu moetin',' when I do
spenk. I don't go round blinking aud
making faces. Truth to tell, 1 had a split
tiu' headache Sunday, but I do hate to
stay to home from meeting, so 1 thought
I'd go and stout it our, but settin; in that
corner ono gets the straight acrost
from the window opposite, aud it hurt my
eyes so I had to shut 'em."
"Well, I thought likely 'twasn't to show
spito you done it; you ain't that kind; but
1 thought I'd nsk ye, s i's to set it right."
"If I w as you I'd let it bile, Sylvy," said
Susan n little iudignnut. "Folks that say
things likj that don't want to have 'om
set right; you won't get no thank for do
ing of it."
"Why, Susan, you don't suppose folks
want to toll what'ain't true?"
"They want to tulk," curtly replied Su
san. 1 he simple, grieved old lace regard
In,' her changed tho current of her inten
tion; she took Sylvy's face between her
hands and kissed her tenderly.
"Well," she said, "have It your own
way, S) Ivy ; you're as harmless us a dove,
if you ain't as wise as a serpent. I didn't
want to have no serpents bite you; that's
And Miss Sylvia, with a puzzled look on
her luce, went her way.
Mi i st.ipped next at a farm-house some
distance beyond tho village, where Dea
con Colo and his wife l.vod. Tbey were
old friends ot Sylvia's, and she had no
shyness here. She sat dowu iu the kitch
en, where Mrs. Colo was making pies, and
attera ecrtniu amount of friendly ta.k,
she said, quietly: "Mary Ami, do you
have much trouble with thut lYrkius
"Sights," says Mrs. Cole, laying down
her rolliu -pin "sight of trouble, Sy i vy.
She is the most coutrary thing I ever se;
you can't lead nor drive her. She don't
want to work and sho dou't want to learn.
I can't inn nngo hor; tho deacon thought
he could Inst week. He' real mild
spoken, you know, but he's real rosolu'.o,
too, and ho alway goes to Scripter lor
everything, so he always fliu,'iu' it at
me that I've spared the rod ou Hepsy, and
llu'liy 1 owned I guess 1 had; but I
couldn't whip her, for I couldn't hold her,
she's so strong. So when he came iu last
week a Monday, and found her entin'
bread and m'lasses, and the dinner pot all
b'iled out, the v ttleg burned t ) the bottom
and the clothes I y m' in the basket not
bun; out lor I'd been culled in u hurry
over to Ed's lions , her teethin' bal
bavin' gone off in convulsion lits, so I'd
left the dinier for her to tinish, and wrung
out the wusliiu' for her to put o ito the
line, and husband come in to dm ier to
Cud things so. Well, slu laughed and
jumped round, nud nc;cd as though she
didn't care a mite; J he took down a
good rod he'd cut a purpose, aud dressed
her dowu pretty smart. She ve led quite
a little, he said, but I guess it done ber
good; she's stepped round pretty spry
tvneo. "
"Well! well!" ejaculated Mis Sylvy.
"Now they're telliu' that ;oU whipped ber
'most to "death; that she was ail wale
when she come to school. I didu't hardly
b'lleve it could be so, and I thought I'd nsk
ye, and tell them tho reul fac's next time
i'cietv meets."
If "I wa you, Sylvy, I'd just stav away
from folk that talk such stories," said
meek little Mrs. Cole, her lips quivering
aud her face flushing with reasonable
auger. "I never laid a hand ou Hepsv
n 'Ver ! I wish't I had ; aud there w asn't a
wale onto her, I know, for the deacon took
a lav lock sprout to her, just stingiu' big,
that's all."
' Thev sai 1 her hand were all tore up."
"Weil, I do declare! I'd been br'iliu' a
fall chick fordmuer Sundav he' notional
about cookin'; don't like 'em lried and I
was in a hurrv: so when I took it oil to
butter it I told Hepsy to take off the grid
iron, aud if she didu't grab it by tbe bars!
just like her; but it scored both her hauds
ncrot with blister. I bad to do 'em up
in sody and k"ep her to home all day."
"Dear me!" said Mis Svlvy;" other
speech wa checked by Mrs. Cole abund
ant tears; and Sylvy "d 'parted, much cast
down bv this second effort to set I lie world
right. "Yet he stopped at the old min,
ter' house to interview Mr. Fine; for
M s Sylvy had a moral doggeduess of na
ture that urge I her ou to diwhat sue
meant to do, though it might be to storm
and scale a redoubt, or assault the walls
of Jericho. She found Mr. I'iue mend n:
her father's coat, but she reeeied a cour
teous welcome; and alter a little conver
sion the hostes herself, luckily for Syl
via, I reached the very iubject she wa ti
mil Ul t ) diacusi.
"Thl i a long piece of work, Mir Sy vy ;
you must excuse my keeping ut it, i"
father ho no better one, and ha caa't ','
to meeting to-morrow uules this i mend
ed. 1 wish be was a loriun:ito a I uiu
I nave a cousin, who 1 a dear irioiid, t 1
and with plenty of money. She I jus
going out of mourning for her mother, u i
is about to be married, so she ha tent me
all ber dresses, her cloak, a heavv biac.
shawl and two ot her bonnets, if oibv
somebody bad sent father a cjat. I woul
gladly have gone without Mtry' things,
for most of them are quite too uio for me
to wear."
"Well, I'm glad you did get 'urn, Mis'
Pine. I don't think there' much thut i'
too good for anybody that' as cleve." to
their father a vou bit."
"I?"aid Mrs. I'in. with a look of as
tonishment. "Whv, Miss Sylvv, he' my
father, and he' all I've got." H T b-au-tiful
eve filled with tears, and Miss Sylvy
winked very bnrd. But she dropped that
subject, only remarking to herself ou her
wav borne:
"I goes they'll all be as pleased as ever
was when I tell 'em about thorn clothes."
There wa only Celio King' case to en
ter into now, and Miss Sylvy rapped at
the door of the little red house where the
girl' widowed mother lived, knowing that
about this time Celia would come home for
her tea, which she took before Miss Case
bail hers, not to leave the shop unoccupied.
C:-lia opened the door, her swollen eye
and tear-stnined chaeks showing that sho
was in trouble.
"Is your ma to home, dear?" asked Miss
"No, 'in j she' gone to Aunt Barclay',"
suid tho very tremulous voico.
"Well, I guL'sa I'd step in a tninnit, for 1
come to see you specially, Celye."
"Oh, you've beard it !" soMied the girl,
a Miss"Nortlj passed her and sat down iu
tho tint chair.
"Well, l'v) heard som tlilugs. Colye.
but that a'u't to s iy I b'lieve 'em. for I
don't. But I have heard 'em, audi come
to have ye tell inn tin rights on't, for I
know yiiii wouldn't do wrong no more than
It wasn't gramma' ical, but it was kind,
and poor Celia coind only burst into a
Hood of tears. Miss Sylvy did not wait to
let her cease crying, but with the tact ot a
tender heart went on and told her suc
cinctly what she bad heard at the sewing
circle, nnd as she told her tale Celia re
covered her poise; her eyes grew cold and
qui"t, her lip ceased to quiver.
"Now I'll tell my story," she said, when
Miss Sylvia stopped. "Vou see, Mis Syl
vy, week lieforo last Mrs. Whito, up to
Feeding Hills, sent down for a widow's
bonnet. The squire died, you recollect,
may be, very sudden, and she must have
it to wear to the luueral, and Miss Case
agreed to have it done; but we were con
siderably hindered by not gettin' tho veil
in time, and it got to bo lute in the
afternoon the day before the funeral
before 'twas done. M s. White agreed
to send for it; and she did. but 'twasn't
ready, so Mss Case said sht'M send it up.
I'd got to go with it to see if 'twas a fit,
and show her bow thd veil went; so I knew
John Harris, who live on tbe luriu next
to Deacin Cole's, took butter np to Feed
ing Hills every Saturday night, aud I said
I'd walk over there aud ride up with him,
to savo Miss Case hiring a team. Well, I
did; but just as I got to his gate I sej his
white horse going over the top of Huckle
berry Hill, nnd I wis beat. I did iV know
anything what to do. Aud just then up
drove Mr. Sum Coke in bis op n buggy.
He comes to our store after his mother's
bonnets aud caps quite frequent. And he
asked me where I was going, and I told
him 1 trif.4H'C going, and why; so he said
he wa going of au errand right past Mr.
White' house, aud he'd take me along
there, nnd stop lor me when he came back.
Well, I thought no hnrm, and tho bonnet
had got to go, so I went, nnd 'twas com
ing back Luruny saw me. Then, that
night iu Love Lime, mother and I had
been over to neighborhood prayer-meeting.
I suppose Mrs. D. mock's bus
baud didn't seo us: wo set close
to the door. And Mrs. 1'ine asked
mother to ridu home with them, so I suid
I wasn't a mite ntrnid to wak half a mue
in the moonlight; but I hadn't got.half
way when Mr. Sam came ulong. He'd
been down to Hop M endow shooiing, and
we walked alon ; sidj bv side till h- got to
his house, and I went th ret of the way
nlono. As lor his w hispering to me. tuut's
just a silly as can be. He wanted a cap
made for his mother lor her birthday tea
puny. She was iu the back shop when he
came iu to see about it; ho wanted to sur
prise her, and was afraid leasj she should
bear, so he was giving orders to me in a
whisper, when Mr, l'ratt bonne- d in with
such a noise w roth jumped. That's all.
And yet. Mis Sylvy, l'v.t ben tn k -d
aoout to Miss Case, and sniffed at I y oik
that came in, and 1 ooke 1 nt us if 1 w is a
rut or a snake, till I can't b'ar it And if
it dines to mother's ears 'twill ka.i k.U
her, and I haven't done a ilnu;!"
Here poor Colia's tours burst out afivsh.
Her pale cheeks wcr oi tl iwd, her
lovelv dark eyes drowued, her sweet red
lips distorted "with distrcsi. Miss Sylvy
did not know what to do, but a bright idea
struck her. nnd she rose to go. "Don't
cry, dear Celye," she said, tenderly "now
dou't ye, Tuius Ml conu out ulf right; I
know thev will. Try to hev put euce." So
sho kissed the pretty, sorrowful girl, and
inspired by her thought inarched off to
Mr. Coke's big houso, rang the bell sharp
lv, and nslted for Mr. S no. .Mr. Sam, a
bright, haudso.iio yo.uig le.low, came out
to her.
"Come iu, come iu, Miss North," be suid,
"I want to see you a spell, Mr. Sam, kiud
of private."
"Come int tho library, then ; nobody '11
disturb us."
And iu the library Miss Svlvy laid le
fore him all that bail Iweu said about Celia
Km her grief, and the probable conse
quence to her character if this talk went
"Now you see how 'tis, Mr. Sam Celye'
a good girl, as good as ever was, and a
pretty-behaved; and what I want is for
you to keep a fur aw ay from her na you
can lor the future. You'll promise me
that, now, won't ye?"
"No. I won't," stoutly replied Sain, his
face Hushing a 'id liis eves sparkling.
"You won't?' Why, Mr. Sam well Coke,
I thought bet ter of ye than that," quaver
ed the grieved old lady.
"Hut I'll tell you why I wou't, Mis
Sylvy," said Sam, smiling. "Because 1
love Celia with all my heart, and I
mean to marry her if I cun; aud how am
1 going to do that if I keep away from
"You don't mean It?"
' I certainly do."
"Hut what 'll your pa and ma say?"
"Mother don't deny her boy anything
he wants, ma'am;' nnd fa'her why,
father marri t a poor girl out of a mil
liner' shop himself, and a better wife no
man ever bad, as he ays every day. He
can't object, "
"Sorter run in the family, don't it?"
aid Sylvia, dryly.
"I only hope it will," laughed Sam. And
Miss Syivia went out of the door as happy
as a good woinau will be iu the happiness
of auotuer.
But at the next week' sewing circle
there whs aa unpleasaut perturbation
w hen, after asking the attention of thd la
dies tor a few m nutes. Miss Sylvy went
ou 1 1 explain the.r mistakes, only remark
mg when s'io arr.ved at C'lia's stiry: "I
cu"sa the'll make manifest how 'twas with
h'T pretiy o.m. Howsoevr. I must say't
s:ie hadu't done a oiit-of-the-wav thing
not one. I tell ye all this liecause I knowed
you' I leel real pleased to th nk them hard
stories wasu't none of 'out si."
I'o r Mi Sylvia! Wra:h rather than
pleasure wa expressed on the various
faces before her; they scowled at her and
low er..l their brows like a htrd of anry
ciit le.
Mrs. Pimock wa the first to speak.:
"Vkeltaid! If I'd knowed there wa
-o uelvidy takin' down all we talked, I
thfuUl have felt consideraUe riled. I
il in't feel cert'in ure now abmt Mi'
Cole; folk can tell their own tory pretty
Sim; d int I'-wk J'lt ri-ht to ave your
own skin by puttlu' the matter ont jm.
husband." , ,
"That' to," added the sharp voico o
""An"' moreover, If Mis' Tine hud hnv
reel lv wanted to get b-r pa a cout, th
could ba' truibd off that ilk gown 1 1
quite a lit le mm. I'd ba' give her U
dollar for't myelf."
"No need to tell me, neither, 't Suir
Brook don't depii the minister. I knmr
he dor. She can talk and lalk nnd Uik
but action peak louder'n word."
"Well," drawled another, "I hope Cely
King can explain herwavs; but 'ti i'
likely she cau. When a girl gel la'ned
about, why she te talked ub mt, an' there
'tis. She ha'u't d one jest wuut sue had
ought to have done, or nobody'd hue
talked about her; theM aint no uoUe
where there aint no fire." '
"Well, I think." snapped another, "that
'tisn't real agreeable lo have folk hnrkiu'
to everything a bodv may av amongst
themselves a 1. might lie, and tbeu go
a-tellin' on't and a-ferretin' on't out for to
throw Into folk faces."
Mis Sylvia hurriedly pocketed her
thimble, thread, aud icissors. threw down
her work, and went home. "I woiildu't ha'
minded if I'd did wroug and knew it.'
shecontld-d to M s Dorca. "but when I
thought I'd done 'e n a kindness, to be o
hectored aud faulted, I tell ye it broke me
uown-" . . . ,, 1 u-
"Tnin't bet to try settin' folk right,
Svlvv," wa Mi Dorcas' comfortless re
ply ; '"leastways not sech folks; they've
got to be made over before you can i It,
and tho' can't nothin' but grace do that,
and some of them would be considr'bie
hard even for grace to straighten out."
But the one drop of comfort that re
mained to Sylvia was tho speedy and
bappv mnrriage of Sam and- Celia, who
were her firm and warm friends ever atw.
She ha 1 boon their friend iu need. But
the sowing circle never for"ave her. Hone
Tewj t'nukf, in IInrjir' Diz ir.
Wnmii.'t K ngilmn and fconm of It Strlk
Imr Misraclrri ties.
Torto'sr-slu'll pins arc in liijrli favor.
Silver galloons have jet stars worked
on them.
Plain ami figured beiges are used in
Hangs must be of the finest possible
curls of crepe waves.
Short dresses will be worn at formal
dinners in summer.
High-standing collars are covered
with beaded galloon.
Painted percale, batiste aud linen
have Pompadour designs.
Holies of b'son cloth have embroidery
in frosted gold and colors.
S lk muslin and muff scarfs have me
dieval stripes and llowergarlands.
Pine black grenadines have jet woven
in them in niediteval designs.
(iold galloon embroidered on India
cashmere is a novelty in trimming.
Kmbnvdery is used for trimming vel
vet a well as cotton and wool dresses.
Black velvet collars, with the edges
worked with straw or tinsel, are worn.
Woolen etamine with velvet stripes
is combined with colored veiling or
Imported woolen lace for overdresses
have also a deep llotmcc to match each
liutlons of dull metal, with ham
mered grounds, have owls, snails and
dolphin in relief.
Cotton ehevoits have the patterns of
their woolen namesakes and are a firm
and durable wash fabrics.
Casliiiiere d'-esses have plastrons,
sleeve-trimmings and sashes of nun's
veiling n contrasting color.
Kpatiletti'S fur dresses or mantles are
in cap shapes or simply bands, with
pendants at either end.
Clu'iii'si'iles are of drawn work with
tucks and of embroidery. For travel
ing they are made of percale.
Pongee and sateen parasols, to match
suits, are tr mined with gtiintire lace.
The canopy top is the pn vail ngshape.
Parasols of etamine have designs in
Holbein ,stit;-h. The.' are mounted on
i frames with elaborately carved
Ornamental pin for the hair are not
W'irii in pa is. The coiffure may lie
ad irned with a buiterlly. a ?tar and a
.-word, but not two p ns alike.
lihtck silks have knife-plaited vet. of
black and wh te, rose-colored, pale
blue or pearl-gray satin surah. Some
times these vests are covered with till e
or French crape the same color as the
The prevailing fah'on of diversity is
visible in some of the lace-covered
parasols. Some ot them have two of
the gores covered with shirred-figured
niece net. while the rest have fr lis of
lace put on very full.
Clasps are in a variety of design.
Horses' and dogs' heads, carved of
tinted pearl ami of dark wood, oxyd.zed
s lver birds, crescents ami class e
heads, en profile, in lrgh relief, are
some of the many sorts shown.
Changeable silks have the under
skirt trimmed with lengthwise of
silk and black Llama insertion, fh
tablier overdress has two breadths of
silk sewed across in front aud gathered
into two drop loops in the back.
Plush lobsters of J liliputian dimen
sions an1 some of the grotesque wh tin
for dress decoration. Some of tlie-o
have the greenish blue hue of the liv
ing creature, wh le others are red.
represent ng the crustacean in its boiled
The fashionable style of hairdre sing
in Paris tor the daytime is quitcsimplc.
Tle hair is raised from the nape of ihe
neck and forms a large curl on either
side ot the head intowhieh a comb with
gold, silver or jet balls is set sideways
or straight, according to fancy.
Fan overdresses pla toil to the belt at
the t are the favorite styles for 1 ght
woolens an I summer s Iks. These are
in ditlereut lengths, soruet rues extend
ing to the bottom of the dress. Others
are short and edged with lace, while
the underskirts have lace frills headed
with wide beadi d galloon. The lack
draperies are full and straight.
Tr mm ngs were never in greater va
retythan now. Lace, galloon, t n-el
and beads are used in every imag w.v 1
eombinat on. In beats the ent regain it
is repre-ented, from the dull lead o
those so like gtm-sho as t be in sUuot;
for it, to the sheen of iridescent beads,
gold, silver, (steel and copjier coiiinli
uiing their share to ti e general bril
baney. Media val a id Or.ental de
are especially adapted to I emb o d
cry. and it is a matter for congratula
tion that hi ad 'd (lowers are gi'n
way to convent onalied forms, tha
are so effect ve in th s style of adorn
ment. Clasps have come into so l'i
":1 use that buttons seem to have iosi
somewhat of their prestige, and those
a.vw employed are of unique design.
Si. Iauu iiiibi-I'ifiocrat.
Nrlntlllatinu with Narram and Ilrll.
llant with Troth.
INcwlVurk CumiiHiodeoo American Rund I! ,bi
Chap I. " Ha Malaria ;" goes to Florida.
Chap. II. "Overworked;" goes to Europe,
" Chap. III. "Ha rheumatism;" goc to Km,
Chap. IV. Ha a row with bis Doctor
The above chapters, Mr. Editor, I
find in a book rcctntly published by
an anonymous author. I have read a
deal of enrcusm in my day, but I
never read anything equal to the sar
casm herein contained. I (suspect tho
experience portrayed is a personal
one; in short the author intimates as
much on page 31. Let me give you a
synopsis :
"Malaria" as it states, is the cloak
with which superficial physicians cover
up a multitude of ill feelings which
they do not understand, and do not
much care to investigate. It is also a
cover for such diseases as thy cannot
cure. When they advise their patient
to travel or that lie has overworked
and needs rest and is probably suffer
ing from malaria, it is a confession of
ignorance or of inability. The patient
goes abroad. The change is a tonic
and for a time he feels better. Conies
home. Fickle appetite, frequent head
aches, severe colds, crumps, sleepless
ness, irritability, tired feelings, and
general unfitness for business ara suc
ceeded in due time by alarming attacks
of rheumatism which Hits about his
body regardless of all human feelings.
It is muscular, in liis back. Artic
ular, in his joints. Inflammatory,
my! how he fears it will ily to his
heart 1 Now off he goes to the springs.
The doctor sends him there, of course,
to get well ; at the same time he does not
really want him to die on his hands!
That would hurt his business !
Better for a few days. Eeturns. After
awhile neuralgia transfixes him. He
bloats; cannot breathe; has pneu
monia ; cannot walk ; cannot sleep on
his left side; is fretful; very nervous
and irritable ; is pale and flabby ; has
frequent chills and fevers; everything
about him seems to go wrong; be
comes suspicious ; musters up strength
and demands to know what is killing
him !
" Great heaven !" he cries, "why have
you kept me so long in ignorance?"
" Because," said the doctor, " I read
your fate five years ago. I thought
best to keep you comfortablo and
ignorant of the facts."
He dismisses his doctor, but too late!
His fortune has all gone to fees.
But him, what becomes of him?
The other day a well-known Wall
street banker said to me, " It is really
astonishing how general Bright's dis
ease is becoming. Two of my personal
friends are now dying of it. But it is
not incurable I am certain, for my
nephew was recently cured when his
physicians said recovery was impossi
ble. The case seems to me to be a
wonderful one." This gentleman for
merly represented his government in
a foreign country. He knows, appre
ciates and declares the value of that
preparation, because his nephew, who
f . . . ..... ,t i .. i ' l.
is a son ol uanisii lce-Ldiisuiciinuui,
was pronounced incurable when the
remedy, Warner's safe cure, was begun.
" Yes," said his father, " I was very
skeptical but since taking that remedy
the boy is well."
I regret to note that ex-President
Arthur is said to be a victim of this
terrible disease. He ought to live but
the probabilities are that since author
ized remedies cannot cure him, his
physicians will not advise him to save
his life, as so many thousands have
done, by the use of Warner's safe cure
which Gen. Christiansen, nt Hrexel,
Morgan & Co.'s, told me he regarded
" as a wonderful remedy."
Well, I suspect the hero of the book
cured himself by the same means. The
internal evidence jioints very strongly
to this conclusion.
I cannot close my notice of this
book better than by quoting his advice
to his readers :
"If, my friend, you have such an
experience as I have portrayed, do not
put your trust in physicians to the
exclusion of other remedial agencies.
They have no monopoly over disease
and I personally know that many of
them are so very 'conscientious' that
they would far prefer that their patients
should go to Heaven direct from their
powerless hands than that they should
be saved to earth by the use of any
'unauthorized' means."
And that the author's condemnation
is too true, how many thousands
duped, and yet rescued, as he was, can
personally testify?
Calling a Station.
Buffalo Express.
Where this particular brakeuian discount
himself is in announcing the next station.
The train has just left North Collins on its
way to the city. The brakeman enters the
. . ...... han.1
ear in an impressive manner, reu u" "
on the arm of the second seat, places the
other on hi hip, crosses his feet, loots
around the car as if to prepare tbe passenger
for something, they know not what, takes a
long breath, and shouts, -Ham,'' holding on
tothe ham long enough for it to spoil, wben
his breath is almost gone aud the remainder
of hi seutence come out together some
thing like "burgsthenextstation."
nro. uaraurrs aii"
No one man in dis kentry towers so bign
above anoder dat he am authorized to ot up
his claim to de highest office in de land, var
am plenty of time yit in which to make up
our minds, an' as a personal friend I'd advise
you to do mo' huntin' fur cabbage-plant m
meddle less wid pollytick. No matter "Bo
am 'leekted, your house rent will be de same,
an' your chill'en will have deir shoes kickw
out 'loas about de middle of Jinuary."
Urilu ol Name.
Inter Ocean.) .
Thackeray's name was derived from u
occupation of his ancestors thicker
thateher. Whittier's nam! came
white tawltr, tanwr cf white k:d leatnc