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About The new Northwest. (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 11, 1876)
A. Journal for the People. Devoted to the. Interests of Humanity. Independent In. Politics and Religion. Alive to all Live Issues, and Thoroughly Radical In Opposing and Exposing the Wrongs of the Masses. HKS. A. J. Bl'MWAT, tenor ana Proprietor. OFFICE Con. Front fe Washingtox Streets TERMS, IX ADVANCE: One year. Six months Three months.- J3 00 1 75 .. 1 00 Free Speech, Free Press, Free People.. Correspondents writing overassumed signa tures must make known their names to the Edltor.br no attention will be given to the)' communications. ADVERTISEMENTS Inserted on Reasonable Term. "VOICOMCE "V. 3?OTR.TJL.AJa, OREGON, FRIDAY, PEBRUABY 11, 187,6. MJMBER M AD4GE MORRISON, The llolalla Maid and Matron. Bv Mrs. A. J. DDSWAY, AtrraoB op "jrDira reid," "ellen dowb," "ascie asb hekrt lee," "the happy home," "one WOMAS'3 sphere," etc., etc, etc TEntered, according to Act of Congress, In the yeaf lS75,by Mrs. A. J. Dunlway, In the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington City. CHAPTER IX. While the changes recorded in the two previous chapters were transpiring, other matters of Importance occupied the inmates of the farm-house at Mo lalla Moorland. As soon as her mother was well out of sight, Madge inaugurated a revolution in the house that drove all comfort away from the premises until her im provements were completed. Among the effects left by the late Mrs. Andrews were two sets of antique bed-curtains that had once been snowy white, but were now yellow with age. To wash and rejuvenate these was her first work. The little cabin, with its two "stick tight" bedsteads upon the first floor, and its crowded rows of the same rough furniture in the one room overhead, was a very uninviting resort for any person with ideal tastes, and these Madge possessed in a wonderful degree, considering her lack of culture. Tbe'stools and dry-goods boxes which had long been the only seats the house afforded, had lately given place to tol erable chairs of ciumsy workmanship) the only furniture the primitive estab lishment could boast which Madge and her brothers had not made. "I'm going to have things ever so nice by the time mother gets home," Madge said to the numerous band at her feet. "You must get me any quan tity of spruce boughs, and every kind of mosses and ferns and flowers you can find; and you'll see how pretty every thing will look when I'm through." Madge's transformation was almost a magical one. The floor in the main living-room had recently been relaid, for there was a saw-mill up the gulch now, and frame-houses began to dot the prairies here and there; and the recent addition of a sash factory had enabled Jason Andrews to procure windows, in lieu of the oiled paper which had hith erto served the purpose; so there was a better opportunity for the gratification of Madge's taste than at any previous period of her life. The wide, flat sprigs of hemlock, gathered by the children from the woods, were trained over the rough walls and fastened with tacks in such a way as to represent running vines on wall paper, with an odd effect of rustic bass-relief that was peculiarly pleasing. The antique muslin curtains were taste fully looped over the rough bedsteads, and so skillfully economized that enough was left to curtain the two win dows, that had been an eye-sore to the young house-keeper from the date of their advent because of their naked ness. Fern leaves were trained around coarse wood-cuts, that, in lieu of better pictures, were pasted upon the walls, and great bouquets of wild flowers did duty in gourds that served as vases. The work in the kitchen was still more thorough, and when the last touch was made in both departments, and a well-cooked supper awaited the return of the marketing party, Madge, in a clean calico dress, with her heavy black hair combed smoothly over her low, square forehead, and depending from her short neck in glossy braids reaching to her waist, sat in the door way, gazing abstractedly nt nothing. "Hulloa! what have we here?" ex claimed a horseman, to himself, as be suddenly drew rein in front of the cabin. "'Pon my word, I like the looks of things!" he continued, as, with the air of an adventurer, he hitched his horse to a post and stepped briskly through the yard. Madge rose to her feet as the stranger approached her, and courtesied bashfully' Her hands, blackened and battered by the hardest and roughest usage, seemed badly in her way, and her feet, clad in unshapely cow-hide, looked a world too big for her short, square body. "Good-evening, Miss," said the blue- eyed stranger, as he lifted his hat with an air which Madge had read of in novels, but had never encountered until now. Again Madge courtesied, while her cheeks glowed like June roses, and her eyes snapped expectantly. "I want supper and a night's lodging. Can I be accommodated ?" "We never keep strangers," said Madge. "That is, mother is away, and we children are aloue, and she wouldn't like it." But Madge really wanted the stranger to tarry. Aside from her sudden inter est in one of the loug-dreamed-of "world's people," she was very proud of her recent home improvements, and wanted to display them. Hesitating a moment, she added: "Mother will be at home in a little while, sir. You may come In." "You are very kind, butl would pre fer sitting here in the shade till sun down." Suiting the action to the word, he threw himself upon the grass, and rest ing upon his elbow, gazed through the open .door with a curious, inquiring stare, and then planted his eyes full upon Madge, who blushed and looked excessively annoyed. "Who papered your house, my little beauty?" It was the first time Madge had ever received a compliment, and it is need less to say that she appreciated it, al though she did not agree with its giver in judgment. "I'm not a beauty, but I thank you all the same," with a delighted little chuckle. "I did the house myself. It isn't papered, though; it's frescoed," she said, turning round to admire her work through the open door. ' ' "That isn't bad, 'pon my word," laughed the stranger. "Do you know," he continued, "that you're a genius?" "What's that?" and TSIadge looked bewildered. "Something good to eat, I guess." "Then you're a simpleton." It was now the stranger's turn to feel nonplussed. "I mayn't be a Solomon, but I know what suits me, and you come nearer filling the bill than anybody I've come across in a month of Sundays. Let's have some supper, please. I'm hungry as a bear. After that I shall want you to come out here and help me read this poem." "Are you a poet?" "People say so." "Well, well !" "What do you gaze at me In that curious way for? Am I not like an or dinary mortal?" "Perhaps." "Which means you don't see it" "You may have more sense than some people, but you're a bigger fool than some," said Madge, nettled beyond self-control at hig peculiar audacity. It was now the stranger's turn to blush. "What's your name?" he asked, at tempting to hide his confusion, and feel ing immeasurably vexed with himself for allowing her words and manner to annoy him. "My name, did you say?" asked Madge, while her eyes snapped mis chievously. "That's what I said." "Smith, if you must know." "Why, Madge Morrison, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" exclaimed her brother Sam. "By Jove! I've struck a capital run of luck!" said the fellow, lying flat upon the grass and laughing immoder ately. Madge was offended with the famil iarity and rudeness thus displayed by a stranger, and abruptly left his presence' to attend to her duties in the kitchen. "I don't want any more gentlemen fooling around here, if that one gives me a specimen of the airs they put on!" she soliloquized, indignantly. And now, good reader, let us leave Madge in the kitchen, and pay a little personal attention to the stranger as he lies upon the sward. Yrou must know that the gold fever in California was at that time in its earlier stages, and though the infection had penetrated to the interior of the great Northwest, and carried oft a goodly number of its scat tered inhabitants, none had, as yet, re turned. This stranger was fresh from the mines, where marvelous "strikes" were made, and where gambling, drunkenness, and every kindred -vice ran riot among all classes. A Had run of luck at a faro table, and the conse quent borrowing, without leave, of a few thousands in virgin ore, was the real cause of his present visit to the rural shades of Molalla. At the time of bis visit to Madge he had already been for several days the guest of the neigh borhood; and he had heard so much about her that he had come upon' some novel adventure bent, and in truth he was getting enough of it, though not in a manner as satisfactory as he had hoped. The few young girTs in the country, that had not been appropriated as wives bad disgusted him with their silly ma neuvering to entrap him. Ko matter how unworthy a man be of the marked attentions of any woman charged with matrimonial thoughts, he wants the glory of the wooing all to himself, and yet he doesn't want the winning ever to be so difficult as to be humiliating. George Hanson, the stranger of whom we write, fancied himself superlatively handsome. He was elegantly clad, in a suit of black broadcloth, and wore a handsome gold chain and other orna ments, the like of which the rustic country damsels had never seen before, His figure was lithe and light, his hands white and soft, and his yellow hair, curled slightly at the ends, blend ed finely with the delicate blue of his languishing eyes, and the feeble but glossy beard that nestled lovingly upon his upper lip and chin. "By Jove!" he said, to himself, as he reclined at easp upon the grass, "I'll captivate Madge Morrison, just to show her that I can !" The last dainty touches had been fin ishedat the neat supper table, and every child bad been fed at a temporary side' board to hush their clamor and render the evening meal a quiet one for the older members of the bqusenold, when the marketing party came home. Every one was full of joyous greeting upon their return except Madge. Her hands were Icy cold, and. her manner so strange and wlerd that her mother paused amid the hilarious throng to study her strange expression. "You're enveloped In the black cloud I told you of, mother," she said, at last. The newly-made bride started as though a serpent had stung her. "How you talk!" she exclaimed, ex citedly. "She'd better not be puttin' on any of her black art airs around this rancbe, or ril take the ox-whip to her," sajd Ja son, grinning as he spoke, with a defi ant manner that was new to every member of the family. "I must say you've become wonder fully self-important since you've been to mill!" said Madge, hotly. "Another word of yer impudence, Miss Pert, an' I'll brain ye with this ox-gad!" cried Jason, angrily. "O, Mr. Andrews !" pleaded the mother, raising her hands with a depre cating gesture. "I've got the law in my own hands now, ole woman, an' I'll show that con ceited smarty that she's done lordin' It over me" exclaimed the husband. "O, mother! what b'ave you done?" cried Madge, as she bowed her head be fore the heavy whip, and raised her hands to avert a blow. Jason Andrews advanced to strike her, but his purpose was foiled by the sudden interference of the stranger, with whom Madge had a half-hour be fore been quarreling, and who had re mained in the back-ground when the party came up. "Hands off, old fellow!" he ex claimed, as he caught the heavy whip and wrested it from the step-father's band. "Who are ye, anyway?" cried Jason, looking abashed and humble. "George Hanson, at the service of the ladies, sir. I stopped to lodge with this family over night, but I didn't know I would be needed to protect any of its in mates from violence." "Thar's yer horse, an' thar's the road, sir! Vamose, skedaddle, scat!" yelled the head of the family. "But I've promised to remain over night. Supper's ready, and I'm half famished. Then, Madge and I are go ing to read a poem together. Sorry to disoblige you, but really, I shall stay." A bully is always a coward. Jason Andrews was no exception to the rule. Belying upon the strong arm of human law, he had returned to Molalla Moor land, clothed with absolute power over a woman and her children. It would be easy enough to maintain his superi ority when tbey were alone, or when men were present who should agree with him; but here wasacase which he bad not calculated upon, and the worst of it was, he did not see how to get rid of the intruder. A coward will always dodge an issue when he finds his pur poses balked by the courageous resist ance of those who meet him in a fair fight; and Jason yielded to the pressure of circumstances over which he, for the present, at least, had no control, and led the party into the house, his wife lingering in the rear to quiet the tu multuous feelings of Madge, who shook from head to foot with mingled rage, mortification, defiance, and surprise. "O, mother! how could you marry that man ? It was all we could do to live under the same roof with him while we had half the property and half the power. What we'll do now that he has secured it all by marrying you is more than I can see." "God help us, child ! I didn't think of that," said the mother, as her heart sank like lead. "We've got to make the best of it, now the deed's done, mother. But you'll see that I hold my own." Mrs. Morrison Andrews, sad as she was, could not resist the charm of Madge's improvements in house-keeping. While she was busy with hercon gratulations, the husband sat down to the table in the kitchen, and began, with his usual voracity, to devour a large portion of whatever was in his reach. "Nevermind the house-keeping now, mother. Let's have our food before it spoils. Supper's been waiting for an hour." The stranger took the seat indicated by Madge, and began, in a cool, uncon cerned manner, to address himself to the viands before bim. There were roast pheasants, 'with mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce; cucumber pickles and preserved crab- apples; blackberries and cream; flaky biscuits and dried raspberry pie, and all were prepared in perfection. The clumsy knives, spoons, and forks were scoured to a silvery brightness, and the cracked crockery was scrupulously clean. "You have a treasure in your eldest daughter, Mrs. Andrews," said the stranger guest, as be buttered his bis cuit, and then paused with a lump of the golden preserves uppn his knife shaking like jelly as he held it before him. "She isn't Mrs. Andrews at all!" cried Sam. "Hold yer tongue!" exclaimed the head of the' family, "or ye'll catch a good tbrashin' ! Nancy is ray wife, an' this ranche an' everything about It be longs to me. Things won't go on here as they used.to.'' The new wife could not speak or .smile. Her appetite was gone, and she with difficulty repressed her tears. "I'm not the eldest daughter," said Madge. "I've a sister Alice, but she's married. I thought there wouldn't be another member of the family caught in acting the fool as Alice did, but it seems there's a pair of 'em." Jason laughed derisively. "Your turn'll come next, Miss Smarty, if you can ever git a chance; an' then there'll be three of 'em." "How very original you are, to be sure'!" Madge answered, with a sneer. "Your pathway isn't strewn with roses," said the guest, addressing his host with a deferential air' that might have been candid, but Madge thought it meant mockery. "I propose to be boss in my own household, let what w.ill happen," re plied the host, as he helped himself to another pheasant. "Matrimony hasn't marred your ap petite," said Madge, savagely. "Does your married daughter live near you ?" asked the guest. "About a dozen miles away," replied the mother. "But I don't have an op portunity to visit her at all, and she only comes home once a year." "Her man don't go' a cent on none o' yer gad-about women," observed the new head of the Morrison family. "A woman's place is in the house, where she can raise babies an' do house-work. Nancy tried gettin' along without a husband, and it wouldn't work." "Much help her husband is to her, as any one can see," said Madge, con temptuously. "Don't you believe in marriage, Miss Madge ?" asked the guest, as he smoth ered his pie in golden cream. "Oh, yes. I intend to get married, sometime." "Then why speak so disrespectfully of your mother's and sister's marriages? They've only done what you intend do ing some day." "Because they didn't marry gentle men. Just wait till you see nw hus band." "Please overlook my daughter's rude ness, Mr. Hanson," said the mother. "She and Mr. Andrews have worked to gether for several years, and she's al ways had her own way." "She'll miss it hereafter," exclaimed Jason, angrily. "We shall see !" retorted Madge. The meal was finished in silence. Al together, it was a sorry wedding feast. The children of both parents sulked and pouted and condoled with each other over what each set considered a viola tion of their individual rights. Madge hurried to wash the dishes and milk the cows, after which, during the long twilight that seemed to her to be very short, she sat upon a bench in the door-yard, listening, with her whole soul absorbed in the theme of a poetic legend, which George Hanson recited while lying upon the grass at her feet, and noting one by one the glittering lamps of night as they emerged from their hiding-places and hung them selves, all trimmed and burning, in the evening sky. To be continued. No Bible in the Schools. The following is an extract from a sermon, or rather lecture, delivered by Mr. Beecher, in Plymouth Church, on the subject of "Our Common Schools:" "Our common schools must be so con stituted that men of all religious sects and men of no creed at all can send their children to them. Applause. You must not call them religious institu tions; they are that in a technical sense, because all things work together for good; but after the manner of the speech of men, the common school must not be regarded as a religious institution. It is secular, and it must be kept secular, and defended against anything that shall make it other than secular. On that ground we can have national schools, and on no other ground can we have them. "It is not fair that I should be taxed for the education of my boy when I cannot afford to send him to a common school for fear his conscience will be perverted. Applause. It is not right nor fair that I should be compelled to choose ignorance for my child or educa tion in a school where he will be taught the things I abhor. Applause. It Is not fair, because my neighbor is in a majority, that be should compel me, a Jew a citizen like him, tax-payer like him, a free American 'citizen like him it is not rigbt that be should make me pay money for the sake of having his child hear the New Testament read, which I don't believe in. Applause. It is not right to read the Protestant Bi ble in the .common school where sub stantial Catholic fellow-citizens are obliged to send their children, fan- plause when they don't believe the JProtestant version is a raitbful version of God's will; it is not right, if the Ro man Catholic population were in the ascendancy, that they should read their JJouay Bible in the common schools, and oblige us Protestants to hear it. rApnlause.l "I have lived only a little time only two or three years ago and the enuncia tion of this doctrine would not have drawn forth this expression of your feel ings; but you have had time to consider. and the men who at first were moved to alarm have at last come to the opinion mac our common scnoois must oe secu lar, and not religious." He came back to his mother lookinz very forlorn, with a big red swelling under his left eye, and four or five handfuls of torn shirt boiling over his breeches-band. "Why, where on earth have you been ?" she asked. "Me and Johnny's been playin. He played he was a pirate, and I played I was a duke. Then be put on airs and I got mad, and " "Yes, yes," interrupted his mother, her eyes 'flashing', "and voa didn't flinch ?" "No'm, but the pirate What Do You TMnk About It ? It is impossible to decide which sex was created superior, or which inferior, while the condition of the two remains' as mixed as at present. Dr. M., who is female, would weigh fifty pounds more than Dr. H., wbo is male, and could lift him in her arms out of any difficulty that his littleness might fall into. His eyes are blue, hers are black. His hair is flax-color, hers, like midnight. His voice is piping and child-like, hers, a full, round bass. He passed into his profession honestly, she, with great ! eclat. He has a small practice, she, one that is overwhelming. He is soft, do cile, amiable, smiling, has pretty white bands and little decision or character, while she is stern, decided, resolute and independent. He would turn white! while amputating a limb; she would not blanch. But what does it all prove ? Noth ing. She is a woman, be, a man. She is superior in some things, he, in oth ers. Why should he be granted rights and immunities denied to her? Which is superior? Bessie sings soprano, and Willie sings alto. Which is superior? Tomf can plough, and Hattie can cook and weave. He might cook and she might plough; would it prove anything? A woman may run a farm or drive cattle; she may take charge of a saw-mill or learn the blacksmith's trade, and, may be perfect in her art in each and all; yet, it would only prove that a woman could do those things nothing more. Not ber superiority, or Inferiority, or equal ity. Nor does it prove that a woman, in following these so-called "masculine employments," needs, or can use, for for ber own benefit, the rigbt of suffrage or the privileges of equality before the law, any more than she can so use them as a maker of biscuits or of dresses. Old Billy Lamb was declared by the proper authorities of Morgan county, Ohio, to be non compos mentis, and en titled to board a ad lodging in the poor house; while his wife, who was so much bis superior that she could scrub and sweep, was denied the same favor. Every woman in. the country whose la bor enriched the nation by making a web of cloth or a pound of butter, or by cooking a meal of victuals for hungry laborers, in just so much helped to pay the taxes, in an indirect way, which gave this "superior" man his board, lodging and clothes. And yet, on every election day for fifteen years, this pau per was brought to the polls to give his vote for every county officer, and stood, in politics, au individuality in import ance equal to the Governor of the State, or even the President of the United States, and could help elect commission ers wbo would let bim into a borne and shut bis wife out of it. Yet, he was the more able to work of the two, and could have scrubbed and swept as well as she. ouly he would get drunk, and he and his peers always licensed the dram-shop. Wbo was the superior ; iiiny .Lamb, or the lady principal of theschool ? Mr. JPutuey inherited a large home with stock, farming utensils, and money in bank. He was father of seven children, lived fast, gambled, drank, and wasted his substance. One day he made a will, and willed away all but one of the children, including one unborn, to strangers. All the property be left to bis wife, aud, like a man, locked himself up in a tavern room and blew his brains out. His will of course was not legalized, and his creditors came together to consult. His wife said to tbem: "Leave me the farm and my children, and I will try to pay you all, in time." And the heaviest creditor said, "Let us do itand save this mother or seven children, the eldest not twelve years old, from bitter poverty and toil." And so it was agreed. The wife took the place of admihistatrix, and carried on the farm as head manager; was mother, house-keeper, nurse, farmer, miller, stock-raiser and book-keeper. She paid off the mortgages. When her children were ready to go out into the world their portion was ready for tbem, and they were ready to rise up and call her blessed. Was he or she superior? A lady had two sons aud one daugh ter. Each attempted college studies. The boys failed; one from stupidity, one from ill-health. The girl went through triumphantly. That was no proof that boys should not go to college. What do you think about it? Frances D. Oage in Woman's Journal. Advertisements. The advertise ments in a newspaper are more read than the thoughtless imagine. They are the map of a large class of men's capabilities in life. The man who contemplates do ing business in a distant town takes up the local paper, and In its advertising columns sees a true picture of the men he has to deal with, a complete record of the town its commerce, its borne trade, the facilities of storekeepers, its banks, and in almost every case he can estimate' the character of the men who are soliciting the public patronage. The advertising page Is a map of the town, a record of its municipal char acter, a business confession of the citi zens, aud, instead of being the opinion ated production of' one man, it is frieghted with the life-thoughts of a hundred. "Miles Standish Adams!" yelled a Boston mother, poking her head out of the window, and addressing ber eldest born, who was adjusting his fishing tackle in 'the back yard, "come right up stairs this instant and get ready for Sunday school !" Her voice probably failed to reach him, as a few minutes later she looked out again and yelled out louder than before: "Miles Standish Adams, don't you hear me? You ought to be ashamed of yourself to be playing with those hooks and lines on Sunday." "Can't help it," said Miles, going right on with bis preparations, -uur boys are coiner to celebrate their centennial this week; they've put me dow.n for speaker, and I've got to have fish three times a day, if I never go to heaven for it." One morning a woman was shown into Dr. Aberuethy'.s room. Before he could speak, she bared her arm, saying: "Burn." "A poultice," said the doc tor. The next day she called again, showed her arm, and. 8aid: "Better." "Continue the poultice." Some days elapsed before, Abernethy saw her again; then She said: "Well, your fee ?" "Nothing," quoth the great surgeon. "You, are the most sensible woman I ever saw." It is said that necessity knows no law. This accounts for people making such a virtue of necessity. "Silence Golden." Yes, "silence is eolden" sometimes. But I have seen instances, where, in my- opinion, speecn wouia nave been more golden. Mr. B. was sictr. and everybody In the house was called upon to oeip care lor toe invalid, to De sure he was not very sick; only a slight cold; but what of that ? He was sick, and Mrs. B. must shake tip the sofa pillow and see by the thermometer that the temperature of the room was right, and must then go and help her liege lord de scend from his chamber. Although he has been sick only the night before. and. has managed to sleep very well through the night,, he seems so be very weak tbls morning, and leans heavily on his wife's arm as they enter the sit ting-room. She, poor woman, has a snapping headache, but she keeps the iact to nerseii, and, wnen Mr. is. is comfortable, goes cheerfully to the barn to do ber husband's chores. Angle, the eldest daughter, is sent by papa to cook tnree or four eggs rorher fathers break fast, and is uudutiful enough to wonder now it is tbat papa can eat so many eggs when he is sick, and how mamma can get along without any breakfast when she is well ? Julia, .the younger daugh ter, must bathe papa's bead lor rear it may ache, and Johnny must stay in the house and tend the fire; for, if papa takes more cold, he may have a fever- All this is quite fine for poor, afflicted papa ror a time, but towards night he gets tired of being "cooped up," and re ally thinks tbat a walk would "do him good." So he puts on his coat, -with his wile's neip, and puns on ms boots, which have been nicely warmed by' Johnny, and takes the scarf which An gie has held near the fire for fifteen minutes, and goes down to the store to let the men of his acquaintance know that, by working very Jjard, Mrs. B. has managed to break up a most severe cold. He does not say, however, that he never thought of thanking bis wife for doing his work in addition to her own. He did not mention the fact tbat he had not thought it worth while to ask her if her head ached, when she pressed her bands to ber throbbing tem ples. Of course Angle did not care if he was silent when she carried him his eggs, cooked just as he liked them. And what was the use of praising Julia lor the deft way in wbich sbe bathed his bead, or of telling Johnny that he had done well in staying so patiently in the house while the other boys were skating on the pond, in plain sight? surely, silence is not always golden. The silence which withholds the pleas ant words of praise, or thanks for ser vices rendered, the' words of love which make labor light and cares easy to be borne, the words of pity which make the heart cheerier, the words of hope which cause us to ever look upward and onward, is never golden. "Speech is silver," saith the proverb, but I main tain that speech is very, very often golden. By-Gone Days. We were conversing with a wll- known gentleman not' long since, and, among other things tbat he spoke of, he reierred to the ract ot his having just re turned from the home of his youth the country home where he passed the first eighteen years of his life. He said: ".Everything that 1 once knew so well I found changed by time; the little stream near the old house; the hillside where in youth I played; the old rustic gate, now hanging to its posts, half decayed and broken; and the fa miliar trees even seemed to have grown grayer, and their once erect forms had become bent and tottering. When I stood in silence, contemplating the change, it seemed as if I should hear every moment the laugh of a sister or the well-known call of my mother, both of whom had long since gone to that land from whence no traveler returns." How mauy of us have the' same feel ings? Often in these calm moments of thought, when the cares of the world are laid aside, how these memories of "by gone days" will arise and cause the tear to start in spite of ourself. It is a sad recollection tbat of those dear relatives and friends of our youth who have long since gone from us. The heart fondly turns to those lirst attachments, and even in old age tries to recall each well- remembered look and word of the "dear departed" more vividly to mind In looking back through these inter vening years, how every little expression of those we knew when life was young will arise, and we find ourselves sayiug within our hearts, "Oh ! what would we not give Tor one look or one worn rrom those who were our playmates and schoolfellows, and those still dearer in the 'old home " These musings upon the mutability of tbls life, and the great "Hereafter to which we are so rapidly passing, should exert a softening and benenctal effect upon our lives and characters, and make us better men and women. In memory's pleasant fields of thought We love to think and ponder, And draw from out their pleasant nooks Old friends and things back yonder. In ripened age our thoughts go back To childhood's rosy hours. And run along the woodland paths And meadows sweet with flowers. The same where we, when young and gay, With life so bright before us, We laughed the neetlng hours away, Or sang in childish chorus. AVhere golden youth, in life's young day. Played on the rustic gate, And Innocence and simple toys Ruled there from mom till late. The children's merry laugh Is hushed, The rustic gate lies broken, And of all the dear, familiar things There's hardly left a token. And thus will memory wander back To cull these by-gone treasures. Though when possessing tears will start, So dear beyond all measures. New York Observer. Living too Past. In our day, both married and single people live too fast A bachelor now bas need of ah income such as would once have satisfied a man with a family; and the husband and father requires for his single household the means which would have twenty years ago supported two families. If not three. Daughters are sent to fashiona ble schoas at .an enormous cost, there .to learn extravagance, and, in short, to become fitted for any thing but to become the wives of poor men. Sons are ruined with unlimited pocket-money, late hours, and almost total absence of pa ternal control. Thus we.notonly waste our estates, but perpetuate the vice in our children. In everyway we are liv ing too fast. THE LIFE TO C0MK. BY GEORGE ET.IOT. This Is the life to come, Which martyred men have made more glorious For us who strive to, follow. May I reach That purest heaven, be to other souls The cup of strength In some great agony, Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, Beget the smile that has no cruelty. Be thesweet presence of a good diffused, And in diffusion even' more Intense. WOLVES. Ye that listen to stories told. When hearths are cheery and nights are cold. Of the lonely wood and the hungry pack That howl on the weary traveler's track, The flame-red eye-balls that waylay By the wintry moon the belated sleigh, The last child sought in lhe dismal wood. The little shoes and stains of blood on tne trampled snow; ye that hear With thrills of Dltv or chills nf four "Wishing some angel had been sent jo snieia tne napless innocent, Know ye the flend that is crueler far Than the gaunt grey herds of the forest are ? Swiftly vanish the fierce wolfs tracks Before the rifle and woodman's ax. But hark to the coming of unseen feet, Pattering by night through the busy street. Each wolf that dies in the woodland brown Lives a spectre and haunts the town! By square and market they slink and prowl: In lane and alley they leap and howl; Each night they snuff and snarl before The Batched window and hrntren innr They paw the clapboards and claw the latch; At every crevice they whine and scratch. Children crouch in corners cold. Shiver in tattered garments old; They start from sleep with bitter pangs a, mc iajucu ui tne pnantoms viewless langs. Wearv the mother and wnm with strife. Still she watches and fights for life; uer uuuu is ieeoie ana ner weapon small One little needle against them all. In an evil hour the daughter fled From her Poor shelter and wretched he,! Through the city's pitiless solitude To the door of sin by wolves pursued.! Fierce the father and grim with want, His heart was gnawed by the specters gaunt; Frenzied, stealing forth by night With whetted knife for the desperate fight. He thought to strike the gboul dead, uuu iviucu uia uroiuer uaau insteaa. O, ye that listen to stories told. When hearths are cheerv and nl?hlx are inlr1 Weep no more at the tales, you hear; The danger is close, the wolves are near. Shudder not at the maiden's name; iuurvei nut ui, tne maiaen'S sname; Pass not by with averted eve The door where the stricken children cry. But when the tramp of the unseen feet Sounds by night through the busy street. wiiw" wuu "ucio iuo BjJtrciers guue And stand like Hope at the mother's side. Be thou thyself the antrel sent To shield the hapless innocent. He gives but little who gives his tears; He gives best wbo aids and cheers; He does well In the forest wild Who slays the monster and saves the child; But he does better and merits more Who drives the wolf irom the poor man's door. Mark Twain's Advice on Domestic Dis cipline. According to my obsevrvation, the most difficult thing to bring up is a child in the morning. You can, some times, though seldom, bring them up in the .morning by yelling at them, but the effectiveness of the process dimin ishes with its repetition, even when not entirely neutralized by the children's trick of stopping their ears with the bed-clothes. The only prompt, effective and abso lute method is to bring tbem up by the hair. If your child has a good, healthy scalp, without tendency to premature baldness, this method will work with most gratifying efficiency. Try it about once a week, and you will be surprised to observe how its influence will extend through the six days, Inspiring your child with the liveliest possible iuterest in the resplendent pageantry of sunrise. The pulling upof a darlingchild by the hair requires the exercise of energy and firmness; but no affectionate parent will hesitate at a little sacrifice of tbls kind for the welfare of bis offspring. Nothing can be more fatal to your discipline than to allow your child to contradict you. If you happeu to be betrayed into any mis-statements or exaggerations in their presence, don't permit them to correct you. Bight or wrong, you must obstinatety iusist on your own infallibility, and promptly suppress all opposition with force, if need be. The momentyou permit tbem to doubt your unerring wisdom, you will begin to forfeit their respect and pander to tbeir conceit. There can be no sadder spectacle than a parent sur rounded by olive branches who think they know more than he does. I vividly remember how my father who was one of the most rigid and suc cessful disciplinarians quelled the in spiring egotism that prompted me to correct his careless remark, when he was reckoning a problem in shillings, that five times twelve was sixty-two aud a half. "So," said he, looking over his spectacles and surveying me grim ly, "ye think ye know more'n your father, hey? Come here to me !" His invitation was too pressing to be de clined, and for a few excruciating mo ments I reposed in bitter humiliation across his left knee, with my neck in the embrace of bis left arm. I didn't see bim demonstrate his mathematical accuracy with the palm of his rigbt band on the largest patch of my trowsers, but I felt that the old man was right; and, when completely eradi cating my faith in the multiplication table, he asked me bow much live times twelve was, I inisted, with tears in my eyes, that it was sixty-two and a half. "That's right," said he. "I'll learn ye how to respect your father, if I have to thrash ye twelve times a day. Now go.'n water them horses, an' be lively about it, too !" The old gentleman didn't permit my Tespect for him to wanemucb until tbeinflammatory rheu matism disabled him, and even then he continued to inspire me with awe until I was thoroughly convinced that his disability was permanent. TJnquestiouingobedience is the crown ing grace of chiTddood. When you tell your child to do anything and he stops to inquire why, it is advisable to kindly but firmly fetch him a rap across the ear and inform him, "That's why!" He will soon get in the way of starting with charming alacrity at the word of command. Vesuvius, after a long penod of rest, gives signs of an approaching eruption. The large crater which has been formed, since the last disturbance, emits a black smoke, always a symptom of volcanic activity, although the time which may elapse before the first symptom and the actual eruption is not definitely known. In December, 1854, similar appearances indicated approaching activity, which did not set in, however, until May, 1855. Elizabeth Cady Stanton was unable to lecture in Sherman, Texas, the hall being destroyed by fire, and sbe was re fused permission to speak in any of the churches.