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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:
.. 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)'
ADVERTISEMENTS Inserted on Reasonable
3?OTR.TJL.AJa, OREGON, FRIDAY, PEBRUABY 11, 187,6.
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.
While the changes recorded in the
two previous chapters were transpiring,
other matters of Importance occupied
the inmates of the farm-house at Mo
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
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
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
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
"Who papered your house, my little
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
"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
"Something good to eat, I guess."
"Then you're a simpleton."
It was now the stranger's turn to feel
"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
"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
"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
"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
"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
"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
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
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
"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
"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
"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
"Nevermind the house-keeping now,
mother. Let's have our food before it
spoils. Supper's been waiting for an
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
"She isn't Mrs. Andrews at all!" cried
"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
"I propose to be boss in my own
household, let what w.ill happen," re
plied the host, as he helped himself to
"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
"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,
"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
"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
"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
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
"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.
"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
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
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
"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
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
It is said that necessity knows no
law. This accounts for people making
such a virtue of necessity.
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
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.
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
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
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