f I iUS. A. J. DFMITAT, Editor and froprlclor OfFICE-Cor. Third nudWnshlnzlou Si I THRMS, IK ADVAKCE: One year- S-1 00 Six months Three months- 1 . l I 09 IADVBRTI8EMKKTS Inserted ou Iteasonable Xcnni. f lor Uic Now Northwest. My Secret. ColU winter, with breath M Icy cliitl. Thai It palnleg the btughof themurmurincrlll And looks the earth In a cold embrace. Sweeping Hie flowers avraj from her face, And turning the flefclc all hrown and hare, Where rattled the grain in the summer al O, Earth, break aiwy from the cold winter klmr, And weieome the warm mid beautliul snrlns Breathe low,xentlewiudK,aiidnsecrct I'll tell Aceeret I've guarded m Ions and co well And III whlcper It low in your listening ear. Ko the Idle and gmatpitlngonoti hall not hear Kor my Mory by them would never le euomhi How Fanny, the daughter of old farmer West, Has owned that khe loves me, her face all aglow. With a warm cfimMMi lltn.li luaiitlln: neck qheekand brew. And whan the June roses are blossoming fair, Jjettaiae perfume to the warm cummer air. "When the tree! are dressed In their emerald hue. When the afcy reumM Its deepening blue. And the bright-winged song-bird's in!titrely l noallng out from tlileket and tree, she will twine the orange "buds in her hair, And I ilMll claim my bride wj fair. A.uu mtw, gnHue wind, that my secret vou know. To the sunny HHtth haiihfli, warm breeze to blew O'er the eW, barren earth, and awnken again The buds and the flowers o'ur hill and o'er hlH, For I-Vniiy,dear 1-Tanny, the treeet of girl. With her roy-ml eheeks ami her Milniu; brown ourl, Has owned llicushe loves me, sitting close by my side. And impatient Im waiting to claim my fair bride. Isota Woirni (Hot Hie Kew Northwest. To Jr. nntl Mrs. jr. ir r. " The angers wakened Julius Out ot his painful slumber, Willi tones of silvery music. To come and Join their number. They brought a crown ofglory TIs ptoee on that dear brow; Tboy wtiMpered, Jeu love yon; Ooe,eome to Heaven now." So to Uie golden city, Wliwe sorrow enters never, Titty bore yourdartlng Julius To dwell with ChrUt forever. .Sate from alt chilling sorrows, In lhat land r love and light, Fraefram life's wad to-morrows, HedweiU an angel bright. Then mourn not for your darl lug, Ir wtten JeMt bids yon come. He will be the flnrt to welcome you T6 Heaven's "Home, Sweet Home." Isoi.A Worth. (Original.) Kplsrnm. ne Rtiilepe, the lowliest of men. Ascends the scale with freedom's diadem. Whilst woman sinks below her common sphere, Slave to the brother who is but her ieer. Srwitrcf Mayiieu. ELLEN DOWD, THEFABMEE'S WTTE. Entered, according to the Act of Congress, In the year 1SH, by Mrs. A. J. Dunlway, In the Of fice of the Librarian of Congress at Washington City.) OHAITEK VL "O, ma'am," said Ellen, addressing the lady, who had thrown herself pros-! trateupou thegrassgrowu-mouud which , ,i0gs which Ziek, who made a precarious covered the mortal remains of her poor living by the chase, kept all the while child from sight, "can't you tell me all around him. Ziek had been busy smok about my mother? I've learned to jug his pipe in the back door for an rcau, ami i nave a story book that tells i of fine houses and beautiful girls and , gay clothes and jewels, and I've won- dered many a time if mother didn't, in . her childhood, live among such scenes? I've sotuchowctt it always, but I never knew for certain." ine cunustoou before them with her, long, uiiKcmpt hair streaming in the summer breeze, her jet-black eyes Hash- ; jug, her bosom heaving, and hor beam- i ing countenance expressive of the most , juwiuv interest. I will tell you all about it another . time, my darling," replied Mrs. D'Arcy. ! "We must now see after Ellen's other i children. Is this the grave of Peter Dowd?" poiuting to the larger mound beside the resting place of her daughter. The child nodded yes, and Bouncer threw himself across it and whined most pitifully. "Good Bouncer; dear Bouncer! be si lent!" said Ellen, fondling the dog, who arose upon his haunches and answered her caress by licking her hand. "May I call you grandmother, lady?" tremulously asked the child. "Certainly, my poor darling," clasp ing the half-clad, barefoot waif in her motlierly arms. "You must be my own uear jsuen hereafter. Come now, and . let us see the other children:" iwo gins, ageil respectively eleven ai ieie years, were buy in the low-1 wnicii, in spue of abject pov-1 erty, was refreshinclv britrlit mill nlonn One was engaged with a pair of cards and a pile of well picked wool, which she was forming into rolls for .the spin ning wheel, that her sister was plying with a cheerful, whirring noise with hicli hor brown, bare feet and war ming oico Kept merry time aud tune. "I don't believe EH0n will ever learn to earn her salt," sai,l she of the card as she vigorously plied her self-imposed task. "It's said can't afford to be a poor family tliat one lady." w.i . !..., laughing reply of the hemi,m r wheel. "Butsec.shter! Yonder COm vitn,. T,.,i! . .?.trooniC8 - VI L lie Ellen, leading two grand stran gers up to the door; and she's talking with 'em as though she might have known 'em all her days." The work ,of each was instantly dropped, aud'hoth.with fluttering hcarfe, prepared to greet the visitors. "My Bisters, Ann and Kate; grand - lather aud grandmother D'Arcy," said . .. . . - - 3 ' "' " 11 ' " " nr-ir imrMi aim ii in. 1, inmi. i in. .. I I mmn - i m i JIL. VOLXJ?I13 1. Ellen, proudly ; but her eyes fell when she observed the critieal gaze of her new-found relatives as they surveyed the squalid surroundings of the rabln and the scant attire or the girls. "There's but one D'Arcy in the lot," said the old gentleman, aside. "Ann and Kate are nothing more nor less than Tcter Dowds all over." Mrs. D'Arcy embraced the children, who shyly returned her mute caress, and then timidly gave their hands to their grandfather, whose greeting was some what severe and haughty "Did j ou have no better home than this while Peter Dowel was living?" queried he, with emphasis, as he sur veyed the cabin in scorn and sorrow. "Mother never complained to any body, and if she could put up witii such a home as this without grumbling, don't see why anybody else should oh jeet," said Ellen, proudly, and her black eyes Hashed like diamonds. "You're a D'Arcy that's very plain, my dear," replied her grandfather, put ting her approvingly unon the head. " Grandfather, " continued Ellen, "you've traveled far to sec us, and we've no accommodations for your team ; so, if you'll go with me to Uncle "Jacob Graham's, I'll get your horses quartered in his barn. lie's a stingy old Jellow, some people say, but he's always good to me. He'll do anything I ask him to do." "First let us go to see the other sis ters. - I must see how many D'Arcy's the family can show before I can pay anv further heed to horses." So it was decided that Ann and Kate should prepare dinner for the visitors, while Ellen would accompany them to Sarah's home. "O, grandmother," said the child, "I love Sarah ever so much! She was only ten years old when mother died, and I was left a tiny baby on her hands, and he took care of me like a real mother for four long years ; and then she got married at fourteen to an old bachelor of fifty, who was always kind to us, and now she has five babies and poor health, and I do expect to sec her dio and leave them all for me to raise." Thus the child rambllngly explained, giving the grandparents such insight into the past life of the family, and pre paring them by degrees to loam of the hopeless past of Ellen D'Arcy, and of the equally forbidding prospects that i opened before her children. i Sarah was busy at the wash-tub. Her ' five little ones were playing iii dirt and rags on the cabin lloor, and she, with hollow eyes, bent form and aching back and limbs, was struggling for life over the wash-board, at work for which she was not fitted, Ellen prevailed upon her relatives to halt a little way from the house while she should go ahead and apprise her sis ter of their visit; but she was foiled in j)er intentions bv a bevy of barkinsr hour or two, never thinking once of lending a helping hand at the drudgery at which his minv wife was occunied. He had very shortly after marriage laid aside the gray backwoods toggery in which the reader last beheld him, and U0Wj JW lie blow m lllu jow. door-way, with his gray eyes shining feebly from behind his shock of carrot-colored hair, which had become well llecked with gray, his long arms hanging limp and motionless over his high hip bones, his iiuge iists half open, aud his bristling, wcck-old beard besmeared witii tobacco juice, he looked, as in truth he was, the personification of the aimless back woodsman, who, living as a beast of prey, is but very few removes above the wild animal which he slays and devours. "Zick Hamilton, my grandfather and grandmother D'Arcy," -said Ellen, promptly, as her brother-in-law came slowly out to meet them. Sarah straightened her tired back, wiped her hands and face on her apron, hurriedly endeavored to quell the riot of the noisy children and put the much disordcreil room to rights, ami then awkwardly advanced to welcome the visitors. "There's D'Arcy blood here, hut It's very much diluted by the Dowd's," In wardly commented the old gentleman Then aloud, "How old are you, Sarah ?" "Twenty last Christmas sir." "And the mother of five children! Sir," turning to the old man Ziok, who, having hitched the horses to a post now entered with a swaggering gait, "there ought to be a law to take this child away from you." "Tan my hide for sole leather, ole man, if I submit to such abuse from you t , .... .iisk. natiy mere wno helped to raise l'etc Dowd's family? Yes, .' while you, with your fine airs and high-toned uignity, stayed away from the seven or phans, leaving 'em to starve, these bauds aud legs and eyes, with the help oi siaunen oiu Jituuaii yonder, kept 'em I Vr .t , ' affwllonalcly pointed to his in pcrvisious," and he exultantly aud if. I . a . . . rule as it hung on its pegs over the mantle. Alas, alas," was the old gentleman's answer, "from the day in which my poor, infatuated child eloped with Peter Dowd, I never learned of her where abouts until six weeks ago. From the been busy prosecuting this journey Oh , Ellen, my loved and lost, why did you - ui ucx uuiu HOW i uavc POTtTIVTSTO, OBEGON, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY O, 1S7S. not let your loving, auxious father know that you had need of him?" and the old man bowed his head and wept. Grandmother D'Arcy asked Sarah and Ellen to lake seats beside her, and grasping the hand of each, she sat there mute and silent. "Grandmother," said Sarah, "it is not right for you to blame my husband. He has been kind to my mother's children, and it is my duty to be a good, obedient wife. I know my lot is hard, but I am trylnsr my best to bear it. Ziek is always kind to me, and I would be con tented, only I know that a woman as young as I, who has already borne five children, and lives in daily dread of her life for fear she will have others, is liv ing too fast to livelong; and my greatest grief Is that I will soon go like poor mother did, and leave my helpless family upon the charily of the world. Ziek is old, and of course can't live many years, and I don't know what's to become of the children." "Pshaw"! Sally. "Women arc born to havechildrcn. Motherhood's their nor mal sphere," said Ziek. "If you hadn't wanted to raise a family, you had no business to get married! There was many a likely girl m incse parts that would have jumped at the chance to get Ziek Hamilton. I've always provided lots of victuals, and our clothes are as good as our neighbors. I can't see what the nation a woman wants with any thing more or better." "I iuarrieL you because it was my duty, Ziek. And I would go on without complaining all 1113- days, only I know how mother li ved, and died, and how her children suffered, and the thought that Ellen here," pointing to the eldest, aged five years, "will follow in my footsteps s almost more than I can hear." "Ole man, we must look out some place to put j-our horses, I reckon. How long do you mean to quarter on its?" asked Ziek, endeavoring to turn the conversation. "Ellen and I have settled that matter, sir. I do not wish to accent your hospi tality. Come, mother, let's go," and the old gentleman arose and left the cabin, turning as he spoke to his daughter's eldest born a" sad, alfectlonate good-bye. "You owe no rightful con nubial obedience to a brute like that, poor child," said he. The grandmother embraced and kissed her granddaughter, and left her there, gazing after the car riage with longing eyes and aching heart. Poor child! She little knew that that ardent desire for further inter course with the dear old couple was the result of her own antenatal circum- stauccs; and as she turned, with tearful countenance aud weary feet, to renew her exertions over the wash-tub, her master's comments smote upon her brain like lead. "I'd a plaguey notion to turn that ole man out of my house," said Ziek. "If he ever dares to insult me or cross my path again, I'll boot him that's flat! Vhat right had he to come sncakin' round here, meddlin' in my business?" "I don't think grandfather meant to meddle, Ziek. He sees that I am dying by Indies, and he kindly told you so." 'Dyiti' be darned ! You're good for a dozen younguns yet. You've never had to go hungry a day since you knew Ziek Hamilton." And Ziek, whose idea of pigs and women wcro upon the same plane, could conceive of nothing In which he had over been remiss 111 word or deed. The D'Aroys wept in silence as they slowly wended their way back to the children's cabin home. Ellen, poor child, saw that they were overwhelmed with sorrow, and not knowing what to say, wisely held her tongue. Meanwhile Ann and Kate were busy with the preparation of the noon repast. The fire-place was not used in the sum mer scxon, so an out-door fire was kin dled in the shade of a friendly tree, where tho inevitable dodgers were baked in the ashes, close by the side of half dozen large potatoes. Meat was broiled on the coals, and coffee made of parched corn, without sugar or cream, was prepared as a substitute for the D'Arcys' favorite beverage, A few onions, gathered from n meager vege table garden In a near-by field, were added as a relih, and, to the surprise of tho old couple, they enjoyed the rude repast very much. Dinner over, the three children ac companied them to Uncle Jacob Gra ham's residence, where, as Ellen had promised, they were able to get ac commodations for their team. Aunt Betsey, now considerably stooj)- shouldcred and very badly wrinkled, weak and pale from excitement over the advent of the strangers, blustered about the house in a feeble, hurried manner. '"Pears to me," she said sharply, "as thouch the Lord had sent you, -V? Darcy, Though, for that matter, why He didn't scud you many years ago is more 'n I can tell. But then we cau't account for the ways o' Providence." "I s'posc you'll be takiu' the children home with you, ole man?" queried Uncle Jacob. "I'll never go unless they'll let me take old Bouncer!" interrupted Ellen "I won't go auyhow!" said Ann. "Xor II" ejaculated Kate. "Hold on, little ones," said the old gcutlcmau with a smile; "1 haven't asked any ofyon to accompany me yet." (To be continued.) Fcee Speech, Fret. Pbes3, Fjiee TEorrr. For the Kcw IJorlhwest. THE WAYS0r LIPE. 1JY CO.NTilSCU. CHAVTnn 1. "So, my dear, you wish to know how I became acquainted with "William Wilson. "Well, bring your chair a little nearer the fire and hand me my sewing. I will have to relate some very sad por tions of my life, but then Into each life some rain must fall, Home dayx be dark and dreary.' I first remember "William AVilson as a line boy of five summers. His mother brought him to our house at that age. Widow "Wilson was cok hi my father's establishment, prcfering that position to a more lucrative one-, as she could keep her boy with her. Faithfully for eight long years she performed her daily task, when death suddenly removed her to a happier clime. Being an only child, I would often slip down to the kitchen to see Willie. You may be sure I enjoyed those visits. Willie would bring out his little store of books anil read to me or explain the pictures. (By the way he was a betW scholar than I). His mother had given him every advantage that her means would allow, and being naturally a bright boy, he hail received several prizes from his teachers for good schol arship. After we had looked at the bool:s until we were tired, I would sing for him, or if the weather was fine, we would play in the garden. In thoe happy days I thought as much of Willie as though he had been my own brother. One brignt spring morning Willie and I were in the garden working, diligently laying out a miniature Uower bod, when I was startled by hearing my mother say, Kate, whose boy is that ?' I replied, 'it's Willie.' 'But who is Willie?' she continued. Willie now came forward, cap in hand, and answered, 'WUIle Wilson, ma'am;' butseelng herpuzzled look he explained 'the cook's boy.' 'Well, sir, I never want you to pre- sumo to speak to my daughter again. Now be oil'!' At that the blood rushed ib his face, but before he could say a word,! had un arms about his neck. 'O Willie,' I cried. 'don't be angry. I hall always love you.' 'Yes, Kittle,' he replied, 'and I shall always lore you, and iioIkmIv can hinder me.' My mother took me by tho arm and led me away saying, 'Willie is a bad, bad boy, and I am surprised that a child of mine could forget herself so far as to associate with a poor eoo; boy. What would the world say? Has my dear Kate forgotten her mamma's position in society?' But when I persisted that 'Willie wits :i good boy the very best boy that ever lived,' she silenced me by saying that she would hear no more about him, but if I were a good girl she would have cousin Carrie and Frank Steadmau come and spend the summer with me. I didn't want Frank to conic. The last time he had been to sec me he chop ped my new doll's head oil; and then Carrie would take all my nice dishes and toys from me. 1 didn't liko her one bit. My mother left mo at the nursery door, with strict onlors to Jane, the nurse, not to let me go out unless she ac companied me. Jsursc wasa person after mother's own heart. Considering poverty a crime, she was always re minding nieof my station. So I knew that Willie and I were as thoroughly sciaratwl as though tho ocean rolled be tween us. But what does a child care for station? I In my Icnoranee (and my mother deplored It) considered all men free and equal. That evening, when my father came home, I wanted him to tell me why it was wrong to be poor. Ho asked mo 'who had put such an idea into his little girl's head?' I then told him about Willie, and that mother had forbidden me to play with him liecausc he was the cook's son and was onr. He said that simple jwvprty was not a crime, but that vice wa, and the poor were more apt to be vicious thau the wealthy. Still he did not want his daughter to associate with any one she would bo ashamed to acknowledge as an acquaintance among her friends. I ashamed of Willie ! I was sure I never should be, no difference what hap pened. My father inquired, 'If you were a young lady wouiii you hkc to ue seen walking the streets with Tom, t,he coal heaver?' 'Xo,' I replied, 'I would not like to be seen with Tom. Ho is drunk nearly all the time. But Willie never will be like him.' 'In all probability,' continued my father, 'he will be nothing but a servant, and It is best you should have nothing more to do with him.' I was silenced, but ever after If I had a nice book that I thought Willie would like, it was sure to find its way to the kitchen. But I nevcrsawhim until the day of his mother's death, which hap pened six years afterward. When I heard of his bereavement, I ran down to find him and offer my sympathy. I was surprised. Could that greaj boy be my Willie? But there was 110 mistak ing when he looked up and said, 'O, Kfttle, Is it you ?' and thcu burst into tears. I tried to soothe him, hut it was some lime before he could speak. He then sobbed, 'you are all I have to love now, Kittle. I expect I will have to go away from here, and then I may never see you again.' His fears were unfounded. He had grown so useful in running errands, scouring the knives and washing dishes, that lie was allowed to remain. Six months passed, hut I saw very lit tle of him. One morning I was in the parlor waiting the return of my father. My mother had gone to a party, and I was alone. A sense of sadness stole over me. I sat down to the piano to try and dispel the gloom. As I ran my fingers over the keys I heard a "suppressed sob, and on looking round I beheld Willie lying on the sofa with his face buried in h!s hands. I ran to him and asked : What is the trouble, and why are you here?' He said he had come to bid me good bye, and that he was going to the Far West to try and find some otitis father's relations, and begged me to play and sing one song for him before he went. I sang till he said ho could stay no longer. Then taking a locket from my neck that contained my likeness I placed it in his hand, telling him to always think of me as his true friend. 'But, Kittle, said he, 'I would rather have one of your curls. It would be better than your picture, for It would be part of yourself.' 'You shall have them both,' I replied; and selecting one of the glossiest he sev ered it from my head witii his pocket knife. Then, after an affectionate fare well, he went forth alone to seek his for tune among strangers. It was late before my father came home, and when he entered the room where I was he seemed not to notice me, although I moved a chair to the fire for him. He looked pale and haggard. I inquired if he were sick. A shake of the head was all the answer. I thought perhaps he was tired ami did not wish to talk. I knew that when he was wearv or perplexed he liked me to sing for! him. I went to the piano, and playing an accompaniment, commenced his fa vorite, 'Home, Sweet Home.' While 1 was singing the second verse I was startled by hearing him groan. I went to him and laying my hand 011 his shoulder I found that he was trembling vidlently. I asked: 'Are you sick? ShalLXieud for a physician?' 'No,' said he, 'I am not sick, but I want to talk with you.' Then putting an arm around my waist, he drew me close to him and told me that all his vast wealth had been hazarded in an unfortunate speculation, and that now he was penniless and would have to go out into this unfriendly world to battle with adversity. Witii all the hopefulness of youth I tried to comfort him, telling him how pleasant it would be to live in a cottage where, when he came home in the even ing, I could spread the table and make the tea with my own hands for him. While I was speaking the door opened, and my mother and a strange gentleman entered. She walked up to my father and asked : 'Is all this I hear about you true? Have you really failed?' He replied, 'All Is gone.' 'You know, James Carter,' she went on, 'that I married you for your wealth. Now that it is gone, I too will go. I never loved you that you know but while I thought my old lover false I en dured you. Now that ho has returned and proved trne I may yet be happy.' Then, taking the stranger's arm, she was about to leave the room. I ran to her, crying. 'O, mother, what do you mean? Yon are not going to leave me?' But she pushed me away, saying: You are the picture of your father. I do not want to be troubled with any thing that will remind me of him." I knew I had my father's dark hair and eyes, hut could my mother forsake me? Could a mother be so heartless? I turned to my father for comfort, but he sat motlonlesu, gazing Into the fire. For some moments he remained thus; then, rising hastily, sought his chain her. I scarcely know how I passed the night. The next morning I remember a servant coining to my room to say that breakfast had been waiting two hours and she had rung the bell several times, but that my father had not yet left his room. I ran to his room and knocked, but received 110 answer, then tried the door. It was fastened. called repeatedly, but could get 110 re ply. I became frightened, and, cal!ln- for John, had him burst open the door On first entering I thought the room empty, but, going up to a great arm chair, that stood with Its back to the door, I was astonished on beholding mv father. There he sat, with his head thrown back. The moment I beheld his face I knew that I stood in the pres ence 01 ueatu. 1 remember of scream Ing. Then there is a blank in my life of nearly two months, hen my mind returned I was surprised to find that I was in a strange place. Every object that met my gaze was new to me. tried to sit up, but found that I was too weak even to turn myself. I attempted to call some one, but my voice died away iuto a strauge whisper. I thought 1 had been piaceu mere to die alone. My agony was great. I doubt much If there are many irsons who hufferwl as x urn at mat time. I must have made some noise, for a. large, red-faced Irish woman rame and stooped over me. She asked, 'Do ye know me, honey?' 1 shook my head. I had never seen her before, hut she seemed satisfied, and when she had straightened my pillow and placed me in a more comfortable position, I felt that I had a friend near me. Then, taking her work, she sat down by my bed. I managed to articulate, 'Where is mother?' 'Ye must be quiet, darling,' said she. 'e have been very sick and must not talk, now.' I could do nothing but lie still and study that, strange face, so different from those I had been accustomed to have near inc. Soon 'Tired Nature's sweet rcktorer, balmy sleep, stoic over me. I think it must have been the next day that I repeated my qucion. Very gently my new friend told me I was at my uncle Steadman'a; that my father was dead and my mother had 1 tin away with a man she had loved in her youth. Buther parents, not approving the match, had by some means induced , . . ' . . . ... him to leave their neighborhood, then finally persuaded her that he was fnlse, and thus prevailed 011 her to marrv mv txior father for his wealth " ' poor iamer lor 111s w eaun. (To be concluded nest week. , CORRESPONDENCE. This department of the Nkw Nor.Tir WKST is to be a general vehicle for ex change of ideas concerning any and all matters that may be legitimately dis cussed iuourcolumns. FIndingit practi cally impossible to answer each corres pondent by private letter, we adopt this mode of communication to save our friends the disappointment that would othenviscaccme from our inability to an swer their queries We cordially invite everybody that has a question to ask, a suggestion to make, ora scolding to give to contribute to the Correspondents' Column. C. H. S., San Francisco: Your favor of the 22d of January has come to hand, with P. O. order inclosed. The address appears in this issue. Mrs. O. F. W., Arcadia, W. T.: Do not know jti.t what the frieght on the sewing machine would be. Will let you know, however. You have authority to canvass just as much and wherever you please. Hope you will meet with abundant success. Mrs. S. C. W., S:ui Francisco: Your note and clippings camo to hand. You have indeed had trouble. There is a brighter and happier world beyond, where the loved and lost in this will be restored to its. A correspondent writes as follows from Greenville: "In your last paper I saw a wish that some one would send a re cipt to cure chilblains. I warrant this a speedy cure: Take a little vinegar and as much salt as will disol vein it, and ap ply morning and evening withacotten rag. The pain will not last over four or five applications." TO THE LADIES 0F.THE JAPANESE EMBASSY. In the name of the women of Amer- cia, the undersigned, representatives of the State Central Woman Suffrage Com mittee of California, welcome to our country the women of the Japanese Em bassy. We congratulate you on your safe ar rival, and truly hope your sojourn among us will be lioth pleasant and profitable. We recognize in this visit of the Em bassy, of which you form a part, not only the enlarging of our commercial interests, but the forming and strength enlngof social ties, which make of all nations one family. The women of Japan and America have, we feel, great reason for encour agement in view of the marked change In lioth of these countries in favor of en larging the educational advantage of women. Your vNit to this country has an cs pedal significance to those women of America who have been and are laboring for the rights and privileges belonging to a broader field of action than has be fore been open to them; and they rejoice that this movement is simultaneous in Japan and other nations, marking, as it does, a new era in the history of the world. With best wishes and kind regards, Mas. Emzaketu T. Scunxcir, President. Miss Jkx.vikPjikm-s, Secretary. Tiik Social Evil. Bishop Hunting ton's report on the "Social Evil" says: "Only let it not be forgotten that in the measure of guilt man shares with wom an equally at the last. He is oftcner the tempter or iustigator, and his account ability must be in tho same degree greater. It sins common to two parties; the strong is not loss culpable than the feeble ; the betrayer thau the betrayed ; the perjured promisor than the victim. So it will be certain to appear at the last, when all false partialities pass away, traditional sophistries arc torn open, secret things are brought to light, and unerring justice is done. If we have here a more direct regard for one sex than the other, it is only because more svmnathv is due to that oue, and be cause a reformation there is of greater ! cause a reiormation there is 01 greater; importance to the health, the home and : the virtue of future generations.' A Jourij.'it far the People levoWtoliie'lliteresdrirumanlrS-" Independent In ToUtlcs and Heltglon. Ulve to all Live Issues, and, Thoroughly Radical In Oppo?IneandExpos(n2tJie Wrong! oi the Mn-e. Correspondent writing nveraammod slena- turcs must make known their name-; -to the Editor, or no attention will be Btyon to. tuetr,' communications. l-nto All. The Mmbeam tile?., Nor arts what star it greet; The raindrop hies Nor xeelcs the enp it meets. A fountain down, Thoughtless what Joy it wakev. Yon tlimit r.. :i 1 ,fte a in. Nor at whom thon shall ble. A "Wonderful Lawsuit. One of the greatest wonders of the tune is me Tichlinmn ii,.-o,. J,0!1.3 r,tilcJ5al ,reay " P to more The man 4i.u,uw. in order to meet this heavy outlay the claimant of tuoTioh bome estate issued bonds to tho amount of 100,000. Besides the funds thus re ceived, lie has tho personal inheritance left him by Lady Tichbonie, who before her sudden death in 1SS0 owned him as her son and made him her heir. Her recognition of the impostor, if ho bo. an impostor, is one of the puzzling circum stances of the case. We add the follow ing particulars : In 1851 the real Tichbonie was report ed lost in the British ship Bella, the vessel being supposed to have perished in the Atlantic with all 011 board. In Mr Jtoger Tichbonie. tlm fhtlinr died, when his Younger son took tho fii i H and entered into possession of the j ,01,?tIy, fVL'h -rVl11 V!lv,e bcIonged to the oldest son if he had been alive. jjjy Tichbonie, it seems, still ente tallied a hope that her oldest son was s,tnl -Jh've and might be found, and tcrofpre, 111 1S03, she put an advertise- ment hl the Tlmcg nnmjnt ti,e in I wh j h he .s snid to j , lost and earnestly caning lor iniormation con cerning him. Two years having elapsed without any answer to this call, the lady was surprised by a letter from a lawyer named (jibbs, in New South Wales, which stated that a portion of the Bella's passengers had hcn saved by a ship bound for Australia, anil had been taken to Melbourne. The lawyer then requasted her to give him a de scription of and details concerning the person whom the advertisement called for, that he might search for him. To this letter Lady Tichborne at once re plied, suggesting that if her son had been saved, he might probably have changed his name and married and she also offered a large reward for success in hunting up the lost heir. A few montlis afterwards she received a letter inform ing her that the lost one was found, and under the name of Do Castro was living in Wagga-Wagga. After a few months more she received a letter signed Itoger Tichbonie, in which she was asked to forgive him for his long silence, which he would explain when they met. She I was also asked to send the writer JES0O ! to defray his expenses to England, as he wished to return home immediately. As the handwriting of the letter was strauge to her, Lady Tichborno did not answer this letter, but she wrote to Gibbs, the lawyer, that she could not recognize her son without seeing him. In reply to this communication she re ceived a letter with a photograph. Though her son had been tall aim slen der when she last saw him, while the picture represented a very corpulent person, she fancied that she detected some traces of resemblance, and there fore sent the passage money asked for. Toward the end of 1SCG Do Castro ar rived in Knglaud, hut instead of at once going to see Lady Tichbonie, who was in raris, he took lodgings with a lamily named Orton, in Wapping, people who formerly lived near the Tiehbornes, and were perfectly familiar with their fami ly history. Only after a considerable so journ in Wapping he went to Paris, and was at once recognized by Lady Tich bonie as her son. L'ntil her death, three years afterward, he was so looked upon and treated by her, but by the rest of the family he was regarded as an im postor and Ids claims to the propertj' in dignantly denied. Looking at the naked faets of the case most people, no doubt, agree with them. The true Hosier Tichbonie was delinatn aud refined in appearance. The claim ant is very lat and coarse. The true lloger was carefully educated, and spent many years In France, where he became perfectly familiar with the French lan guage. The claimant can hardly utter a sentence without betraying the defects of his education, and knows not a word of French. When the true Roger em barked on his last voyage ho had a large sum of money standing to his credit in hank, money never drawn for, whereas the claimant had to beg for 200 to Tiay his passage to England. A severe attack of disease affecting the brain may do much in oversetting the constitution and changing the appearance, but hard ly so much as is assorted in this case. On the other hand the claimant displays the most astonishing familiary with the English life of Roger Tichborne, even with minute details which it would seem impossible for a pretender to master. His power of explanation, also of re moving difficulties and meeting objec tions so as to give plausibility and con sistency to his story, is said to bo amaz ing. The ablest lawyers are thwarted anil confounded by him. If " i", poster, who picked up his knowledge of Kr Tichlmrup's early life and family history at second IUm rv makes him a marvel. It must, how -ever be -mentioned that dozens of wit nesses of unimpeachable veracity, who knew the missing heir, recognize in him the much kidgered claimant. It must, moreover, be admitted that the attempt in which he is engaged was a very uii Iikelv entprprise or tne son of a butcher, settled in Australia, to undertake. Sonie readers may need to bo told that those who dony his Identity with Roger Tich borne believe that his real name is Or ton, and that he Is the son of the family with whom he lived in Wapping on his first arrival in England. And their hope at present is to find evidence in Austra lia to substantiate that view. The pro cess may yet last for months, or even vears.' A THiniln Tl llnl mill Imsllpfill anU by two railroads for attempts tobbsWct their tracKs. jus excuse was iu.in-v had to take a log of wood home, anil if the State is not big enough for him to lay down a load in it without blocking all the railroads, the fault lies with somebody. besides-him. - man says that a woman s niam. , ..,-,irws.-i, changes continually but always ha5a woman's 1 19 mau 111 it. -i iiaimaSm..c . -rfiu.apsi oily" Is what an Ohio critic cans la iTiimv seu.ii una" repa.