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About The new Northwest. (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 1, 1876)
- i i n in i i - ni null ii iiw r i hi i iii iia iii iiii i ii i Mi in .Miiiiii .in iinimiiii in mil i in mini ' i urn iiiiiiinniirrwiiiiraimf rwntTmtinr Hits. A. J. DlJilffAI, Editor an Proprietor. OFFICE Co 2. Frost & "Washisgtox Streets TERMS, IX ADVANCE: A Journal for the People. Devoted to the Interests of Humanity. Independent In Politics and Religion. Alive to all Uve Issues, and Thoroughly Radical In Opposing and Exposing the Tyrone of the Masses. ' Ono year.-. Six months ... Three months ..S3 00 175 1 00 Correspondents WTltlngover assumed signa tures must make known their names to the Edltor.or no attention will be Elven to their ADVERTISEMENTS Inserted on Reasonable Terms. PORTLAND, OREGON, rRIDAT, DECEMBER 1, 187G. 3NXTSXBEK, IS. communications. 3-- Ng US J f H Nr -sir f V ' Njr r us N7 v -K" V I Free Speech, Feee Press, Free People. . - - . . - NO STOET THIS WEEK. We regret to announce that Chapter VII. of "Edna and Jobn" did not come to hand this week. We cannot under stand the cause of the delay, as a letter from Mrs. Dunlway, under date of No vember 8, states that she 'started the story at the same time. All we can do is to ask our readers to watt and have patience. DEIVEN TO DEATH. nr n. E. c Benjamin Duncan had at last retired from the bakery business in favor of bis only son, Benjamin Duncan, Jr., a step he bad long contemplated; but the youthful Benjamin had previously man ifested matrimonial tendencies so start lingly peculiar to the steady-going, old fashioned notions of bis respected par ents, that it had induced the old man to retain, under his own supervision, the long-established and well-known bak ery until such signs of a change in his sou's affections had become sufficiently apparent to deem his retirement pru dent. Several generations of Duncans had dispensed the staff of life, not to mention other sundries, from these self same portals wherein the youthful Ben jamin was established. Benjamin Duncan, Sr., from the hoards of his progenitors and his own bard labor, had amassed a considerable fortune, and as young Ben was his sole descendant, it was an understood thing that he would inherit all; consequently, the youth considered himself a very im portant member of society, and was looked upon as such by all bis acquaint ances. Ben was a jolly, good-natured country la.l, up to all the "larks" the village offered, with a vast idea of his own experience, although be bad never wandered beyond the limits of bis na tive village. But to come to Ben's love affair the affair which had nearly proved fatal to his prospects in the bakery business. The youth had actually fallen in love with of ail beings in the world a cir cus rider ! a girl who jumped through hoops and rode a horse bare-back round the circus ring! No wonder the pious old Methodist baker and his wife, who had never at tended anything more enlivening than a prayer meeting, were appalled aud horror stricken. They looked upon the circus as an institution of the Evil One all actors therein his miuions. Ben's juvenile feet had never crossed such a profane threshold at any time when a circus company had visited bis native village, and as this little village was far from any great metropolis, the advent of a circus was a rarity. Ben had but a faint recollection of the last which had appeared in the village in his boyhood. He dimly remembered the gorgeous pageant which passed through the streets with enlivening music, and his own piteous screams and entreaties to bis inexorable pareuts who had kept guard over him lest his feet should find their way to the "tents of wicked ness." But about a year previous to the retirement of B. Duncan, Sr., from the bakery, a circus compauy had again pitched their tents in the remote little village, preceded, as usual, by flaming hand-bills, announcing, in gorgeous red letters, marvelous wonders to be seen at "The Great World Eenouned Circus, etc. Ben, with all the rest of the vil lage youths, stared with wild excitement at the alluring advertisements, well knowing his parents' objections, but thinking himself perfectly capable of judging for himself now. He wisely kept silence while his parents piously groaned over the prospect of such an ar rival to disturb the quiet of their little village. On the eventful day, Ben left the par ental roof, with its odor of sanctity and hot bread, and made directly for that "institution of the Evil Oue," namely, the gaily decorated tents of the circus, He entered. Never in all his simple imagination had he dreamed of such splendor! The tinsel and gold, the tawdry display, everything, seemed genuine magnificence to him; the mu sic, the feats of horsemanship, all quite took poor country Ben's breath away but to cap the climax and crown his day with bliss untold, there rode into the ring at last a pretty little blonde in fairy-like costume (if so small an amount of vesture might be called a cos tume) of .gossamer-like material, with silver stars and fringes, standing in white satin slippers on a milk-white steed! Ben watched her spell-bound and with bated breath, as the novelists say, as she floated lightly through the uplifted hoops as the horse went round the ring in full career; descending, she aanced on one foot and went through other wonderful performances. Ben could scarcely believe the bewitching creature to be real flesh and blood. He left the tent when the performance was ended in a maze of bewildering excite ment. He could not tear himself from the place which contained the fairy-like being who bad so entranced him: be lingered about the tents in everyone'; way; was pushed about and sworu at by the men of the company, but was heed less of all, heedless even of his supper (for the first time in his life); he "still clung to the spot until his watchings were rewarded, for after the gossamer and sliver fairy had divested herself of her ethereal vestments and had most humanly partaken of a substantial sup per, she strolled outside the tent and along the green enclosure. She bad not gone far when she met her rustic ad mirer. Ben recognized ber in an in stant, although clad In habiliments suit able to this mundane sphere, and not looking quite the child she had appeared before, but a really pretty girl of about sixteen years of age, and not at all re sembling the scraggy, paiuted individ uals who accompany these institutions as a rule. When our hero saw her bis heart took a sudden mighty stride into his throat, and when she approached and spoke to him, be felt as if he should choke to death with delight ! Ben's angel's salutation was in tiiis vi9e : "Good gracious, Ben Duncan ! what are you staring at ?" Though startled by her familiarity, which, though unexpected and decid- dly brusque, was not coarse, and the light laugh which accompanied the words was musical and like a child's merriment, Ben's gallantry did not for sake him as he replied, ardently : "At you, most beautiful angel !" This was a most novel beginning, but Mille. Angela De Leon, which was her high-sounding title on the play-bills, laughed agaiu merrily and said : "I know you liked me; I saw you ad miring my performance this afternoou." "Did you ?" said Ben, eagerly; "but how did you know my name?" "Oh, some of our fellows went to buy some supper at your latlier's bakery and they saw and heard all about you." "Did they ?" responded Ben. "Well, there wasn't much to hear, was there ?" Yes; I heard your father was very rich, and you are to have it all." Ben laughed. "Yes, and my father is going to give up the business to me," he added, confi dentially, "and then" What, the bakery !" interrupted the angel. "Isn't that awfully slow kind of living?" "No, indeed,"said Ben; "there is a ind of excitement about it at times." "Excitement about a bakery 1" laughed the angel. "Impossible ! If you call that exciting, wliat do you think of my life? Such wild ridiugand umping and dancing ! Oil, it is glori ous ! I wish you could try it." I wish you would try mine !" said Ben, with a teuder glance aud persua sive accent which made the angel laugh again. Soon, however, they became very con fidential, and the angel told Ben much of her past history; how her parents bad belonged to a circus company, and she bad always lived among these people, aud been taught to ride, etc.; but some times, she confessed, she felt tired of this roviug life aud would like to settle down quietly; and then she gave Ben a tender aud sly glance, which he re- turned with an ardent one, and In bis turn told her be was a lonely bachelor, and sighed for some one to love, him, etc.; and then more teuder glances were exchanged, and shortly after Ben pro posed a walk, aud she consenting, Ben walked her past the bakery, but be did not invite her to enter. Fancy his par ents' wrath should their saintly portals be desecrated by the feet of Mille. An gela De Leou ! Ben asked his angel's opinion of bis home, and that young lady expressed herself highly delighted with the outside, and intimated that the nside might be even better; but poor Ben dared not take the hint. They re turned to the circus barely in time for the evening performance, which put Mille. Angela in a state of fluttering trepidation. Of course Ben went in again, and again watched her as she re appeared in her gossamer drapery, and was even more completely bewitched than before. Again he lingered after the perform ance, and she rewarded him a second time with a tete-a-tete. Ben told her how his heart had been in his throat be tween pleasure and fear as she flew through the air, and, in fact, he added it had left him altogether and she alone possessed it! Mille. Angela received the declaration with equanimity, remarked that it was rather sudden, but that she, too, had experienced as sudden and spontaneous an affection for him, and, although she was not yet quite prepared to relinquish her present occupation, whenever that time should arrive, when she would be williug to do so, no man would suit ber as well as Beu Duncan, Jr., and as sh spoke she thought of Ben Duncan, Sr.'s bank acconnt; nor was she at all dis pleased with the honest, good-looking youth beside her, whose love was genu ine, notwithstanding its sudden inspi ration. Before they parted, Ben had promised to make bis appearance at another per formance the following day given at an adjoining village, which promise he kept, and then his gossamer fairy floated away from his path of life and left him disconsolate. A year had passed, and Ben had heard nothing from his angel, yet her memory was still fresh in his heart. The villagi maidens thought him singularly dull and uninteresting of late, but none sus- pected Ben's secret love. When our hero's respected parents, through the medium of some kind, dis interested neighbors, beard that he had been to the circus, actually entered the tents of ungodliness, not only twice in one day, but bad gone ths followingday to attend two more performances in the next town, they were appalled at the enormity of his crime; but when Ben not only confessed bis guilt, but gratui tously offered the information that be not only loved but was loved by "The Great Equestrian Female Performer, Mille. Angela De Leon," and that when she was ready to. renounce her present oocupation, he intended to make her his wife, the horror, the grief, the despair f his worthy parents knew no bounds. His mother with clasped bands and treaming eyes entreated him to spare them this disgrace. His father, in early as frantic a state, wondered why such pious pareuts were afflicted with so perverse aud God-forsaken a son. They prayed, emplored, and threatened Ben by every argument in their power to forsake his angel, but in vain. He held to his faith stoutly and said, "If they chose to disinherit him, he would turn circus rider himself." Whereupon his' mother fainted, and his father went to seek counsel of the good old Methodist divine, who wisely told them not to turn adrift their only sou, but to pray for the prodigal, which advice old Duncan consented to take, but commanded Ben never to mention n their presence the unworthy object of bis affections, nor to let any oue hear of it, for they would die of mortification if the villagers should become aware of is folly. But because Ben was silenced, be only dreamed the more of bis augel. However, after a few weeks' despalrat the separation and the silence of bis be loved, bo regained his spirits, and to all outward appearances seemed to have forgotten her. So the time passed on, aud the old people congratulated them selves that in reality Ben bad forgotten her, and Duncan, Sr., with many words of good advice and blessings for his son's future prosperity, resigued the bakery to his hopeful. Old Duncan dared not so much as mention Ben's disgraceful love affair to that youth to warn him against It, fearing the mere mention would revive, might be, forgotten memories. And Ben was therefore formally installed as his own master, did a famous busi ness, drove a fast horse, and was quite a swell" In the little village. The vil lage belles were lavish of their smiles and glances whenever Ben appeared raong them, but he was impervious to all. Affairs were thus progressing most flourishingly, when one day, as old Duncan was walking down the village street, he descried a man standing be fore a tempting high board fence, with pail of paste and brush in band, affixing upon the aforesaid fence a flaming cir cus advertisement ! Poor old Duncan ! Petrified he stood, betwixt fears for Ben and disgust at the whole affair. But soon, as well as bis trembling legs would allow, he hurried home and poured into the ears of his confiding spouse the tale of woe ! However, events must take their course. The circus company nat urally would not forsake the village on Ben's account, and Beu could no longer be controlled, and so it came to pass that on the eventful day the tents were pitched on the same old grounds, and it proved itself to be the veritable com pany of the previous year. Ben was among the first to welcome the troupe back to the village. Mille. Angela was nowhere to be seen before the hour of the performance; but when the gay strains of music struck the ear, in due course of time Ben's gossamer angel again appeared aud floated, with the same angelic grace, through hoops and over bars, to the intense delight of her adorer, who could with difficulty restrain his inclination to rush from his seat and clasp her In his arms as she floated along. However, he managed to control bis ecstacies until the close of the performance, when a most affecting meeting took place between tbe lovers the angel assuring Ben be bad never been forgotten, and be, in turn, inform ingherof his improved condition, and begging her now to share the profits of the bakery with him. Mille. Angela replied that her circus life was drawing to a close, as she was about to enter upon an engagement to drive a chariot in the races at the famous Hippodrome in the city of New York. Poor Ben was miserable, but no per suasion could Induce her to "relinquish her new engagement. "It will be such fun !" she said, "and it is but a short engagement at best." And at its conclusion she promised to consent to all he wished. Ben was obliged to be content, but made Angel; promise to visit his home before sheen tered upou ber new career. Ben knew his parents would almost expire at th idea, but if Angela was to be his wife. they might as well know ber fir3t as last and get used to her. The circus left the village, and th time arrived for Angela's promised visit Ben bad not told his parents of his bride elect's coming, nor bis still firmly determined purpose in regard to her; but now the time had come, he could no longer delay, and, although Inwardly quaking, yet outwardly bold as a lion be told them, and iq a tone and manner that they saw would brook no dispute, all be had to spy. The feelinffS of the old people were much the ufme as they bad experienced the year before, only more so; and when the .day dawned which was to bring Mille. Angela to the house of the Dun cans, Ben's mother took to her bed, overcome with grief and indignation, and his father was a most miserable specimen to behold from thesamecause. Ben drove his fast horse to tbe station to meet his beloved, who was very mod- istly and prettily attired and eagerly anticipating her visit to Ben's home. The poor fellow was obliged to warn her f no very cheerful reception. 'You see, the old people are queer," he explained, "awfully pious, and all that sort of thing. And they think the circus is ,is well, something very dreadful." "Then, what do they think of me ?" exclaimed the angel, anxiously. "Oh, they'll think you all right when they know you," said Ben, encourag ingly. On arriving, Ben conducted his angel nto the presence of pater familias, and Angela, although disappointed at what she had just heard from Ben, deter mined to be friendly, and extended her little hand with a pleasant smile. The old man was at a loss to know how to act. He was surprised at Angela's very outhful, pretty, and modest appear ance; yet when he thought of her as "a creature who wore tights and jumped through hoops," his sense of what was proper and becoming was so shocked that be could not endure to notice such being, much less to take her hand; yet could he be so inhospitable as not to say a word to her ? It was a trying moment, but he finally compromised matters by pretending not to see the ttle baud, but bowing low, he said he had no doubt it was a great pleas ure to Ben to have her here !" Ben asked for bis mother. His father informed him, with a mel ancholy shake of the head, where she had betaken herself. Beu swallowed his motification and anger and devoted himself assiduously to his lady love. Supper was partaken of In absolute silence by all three, old Duncan steadfastly regarding his future daughter-in-law all tbe time with sol emn eye. His conclusions were that she did not look so utterly God-forsaken as he had Imagined her, and from a true sense of duty he determined to try to convert her, as from ber profession she could, indeed, be nothing less than a heathen. Accordingly, as Beu and An gela were sitting snugly and affection ately together on the sofa in tbe little parlor after supper, old Duncau entered, and takiugachair and seating himself directly before them, commenced abruptly, looking at Angela : Have you ever attended divine ser vice V" The young girl looked up astonished and rather frightened at the solemn as pect of her interlocutor, and replied: "Yes; but not often." "Indeed, I am relieved to hear you have been there," said the old man, with much emphasis and more coode- cension. "But as tiie future wife of my son, I feel it my duty to try to bring be fore you a knowledge of the evil of your life, aud to entreat the Lord to change vour heart and occupation. .Let us pray." The old man fell upon his kuees and n all true sincerity poured forth a long and earnest petition for Mille. Angela's conversion. Ben and Angela remained sitting, Ben with crimson face aud bit- lug his lips angrily, Angela bewildered and thoroughly embarassed. The old man at length arose, aud without further remark, wished them a solemn good night. The young girl was really touched with the genuine fervency of the old man's prayer. She and Ben sat for a few minutes silent after he had left the room, and at length Ben spoke In a con solatory and apologetic tone : "You musn't mind him, Angela. He don't mean anything. He often prays at me like that. He's a real good old fellow, if you only knew him well." In the meantime Ben's father had gone upstairs and was holding converse with his faithful spouse. Tbe latter had aroused herself with much curiosity, de spite her headache and heart-burning, on hearing the approach of the familiar footsteps, eager to know the report her husband had to bring. She was horri fied and plunged In deeper distress when she found that a somewhat favorable impression had been made on her worthy partner's mind by his future daughter-in-law. "Are you, too, going to side with the Evil One?" she groaned. "Ob, you men are all alike, young and old. pretty face hides all disgrace. A circus woman to be upheld by you, Benjamin, and to think of your position in the church I" "I do not uphold her profession," meekly remonstrated tbe old man; "but she certainly did seem impressed with my prayer, aud she is a nice, modest little girl, and Ben .might perhaps have done worse." "That is downright vanity, husband, cried Mrs. Duncan, determined uot to be ruu over. "You thought you prayed well, and she must necessarily have been Impressed with your flow of Ian guage." Thereupon the old man. nearly lost his temper, and for. tbe first time In thel lives some sharp words were uttered be tween this faithful old couple. But af ter the manner of Tennyson's "My Wife and I," they soon "kissed again with tears," and Ben's maternal ances tor finally submissively and meekly atoned for her display of bitterness by appearing at the breakfast-table tbe next morning, and with most favorable results. Angela conducted herself with much credit, showed such amiability nd evident desire to please, that in spite of herself the old lady could not ut be friendly. Ben was charmed beyond power of expression, and tbe few days of bis an gel's visit proved more of a success than all parties bad deemed possible before hand. Angela and Ben parted in high spir ts, and both more in love than ever, and looking forward to the conclusion f the former's engagement at the Hip podrome, at which time they were to be married without further delay. It was the evening of the last appear ance of Miile. Augela De Leon in the chariot races at the Hippodrome, and Ben, according to a promise given to Angela at their last meeting, now made is first visit to tbe city to witness his angel's triumphs and last feats iu 'horse manship. The vast place was thronged to overflowing, its thousand lights flash ing, the music inspiring! One brilliant display succeeded another, until the chariots with their fiery steeds dashed into tbe arena. In blue and silver Mille. Angela again appeared, standing in her chariot and firmly grasping the reins in her tiny hands, confident and happy as she glanced up at Ben. Wild with excitemeut, the horses dashed with headlong speed along the course, passed and repassed each other, when suddenly there was a crash, a shriek, a groan, a cloud ot dust, a rush of grooms and attendants, and then, as the whole of that vast assembly arose to their feetspell-bound and breathless with horror, tbe bloody and lifeless form of Mille. Angela De Leon was carried from the scene. Miss Eva Parker. The following sketch of this fair daughter of Illinois, whom we remem ber years ago to have associated with n the traditional "red school-house," Groveland township, we find in an Eastern exchange: Miss Eva Parker, the daughter of a farmer of Groveland, Tazewell county, III., the wife of Robert Ingersol, the great llepubiican orator, would be con sidered a rare woman iu auy age. An affectionate, teuder, true-hearted, and loving woman, she transformed the reckless, careless, heedless geuius into a great-souled, strong-brained, versatile, and pure-minded man. Two daughters are the result of this union. Few house holds equal this in strong but teuder af fection, manifested simply aud natur ally, without alt'ectatiou aud without concealment. When he goes on any ong journey his family always accom pany him. Together they went to Eu rope, togetner they made the campaign iu Maine aud New York. Nor is hers the masculine intellect that partakes of all triumphs aud drives him forward be cause she is ambitious. Dress aud so ciety -aud place and position are things she cares as little for as he. Iu iutelleut she does uot strive to be his peer, but in ail womanly qualities, in devotion to him, in. witely regard, in the domestic virtues, she surpasses most womeu as much as iu masculine strength and vigor he surpasses most men, and he re pays this affection with a constancy, a care and attention, a delicate deference to ber wishes, and a loyal devotion to her, that reveals the Ideal lover of the romantic school. There is, however, in all this no sentimentality and no gush Good Living and Dyspepsia. Good living is said to cause dyspepsia but the most healthy people I have ever known have been among those who lived well who ate freely several times a day of the most nutritious food. By some it is said that tobacco, snuff, tea coffee, butter, and even bread, cause this complaint, but whoever will make inquiries on this subjeet throughout the community, will hud that this is seldom true. In fact, dyspepsia prevails, ac cording to my experience, altogether the most among tbe temperate and care ful among those who are careful as re gards what they eat and drink, and the labor they put on tbe stomach, but ex ceedingly careless how much labor they put upou tbe brain. Such people olten eat nothing but by the advice of a doc tor or some treatise on dyspepsia, or by weight, nor drink anything that is not certainly narmiess; they chew every moutuiui until tuey are confident, on mature reflection, that it cannot hurt the stomach. Why. then, are they dyspeptic? Be cause, with all their carefulness, they pay no attention to the excitement o the brain. They continue to write two or three sermons or essays every week besides reading a volume or two, with magazines, reviews, newspapers, etc. and attending to much other busiuess calculated to excite tbe mind. To me I is uot strange that such persons have nervous and stomachic auectious. The constaut excitemeut of the brain send an excess of blood to tbe head, and therefore, other organs are weakened and morbid sensibility is produced which renders the stomach liable to de rangement from slight causes. Dr. Hoi- brook's "jAver Lompiamt." Tiie Socialists. The vastn ess of the Socialist organization in Germany re vealed itself at tbe congress held at Gotha. when 101 delegates, elected by 37.747 votes and sent by 284 districts, took part in the deliberations, in ere are 145 accomplished public speaker connected with tbe movement. Tbi congress received communications from Socialist societies in Spain, Portugal, Switzerland, Brussels, London, and Paris, all urging the point that the in terests of workingmeu were everywhere identical. Vice is sufficient of itself to make man thoroughly unhappy. Aristotle, Professor Huxley on Evolution. Professor Huxley, tbe distinguished English scientist, when In this country (which he has just left) gave a series of lectures in New York on "Thn T)Irpr. Evidence of Evolution." The following are the closing words of the last' lecture of the series: "When an inductive hypothesis is demonstrated by facts in etitire aceord- uce with it, and such as might bave been reached by deductive processes, it is firmly established; if the doctrine of evolution had not been fully established as firmly as-and iu tbe way that theCo- peruicau system has been demonstrated, beyond the possibility of cavil, nothing has ever been or can be proved. Tbe only escape is to say that all these dif ferent forms were each created sepa rately and at separate epochs, a belief Inch can never be demonstrated, and not supported by any other evidence or pretended evidence. The time will come when such endeavors to escape tbe conclusion will be looked upon as are the views oi those not yet wholly ex tinct writers who hold that fossils are no indications of animals, but either the sports of nature, or, as has been recently gravely asserted, special creations to test our faith. All evideuce favors evolution, and there is none against It. To tbe unin formed it seems an insuperable objec tion that geologists, astronomers, and physicists say that not sufficient time has elapsed since the earth grew cool enough to support life for all these changes of form. We look to tbe geol- gist and physicist for information in regard to the time necessary for the production of these forms, the existence of which we absolutely know. Let them set the time; with that we have nothing to do. There is no foundation for tbe assertion that evolutionists demand an mpossible time; the biologist bas no way to judge of time; he takes his facts from the geologist, who tells how long t took to lay the rocky deposits. If he says 500,000,000 years, we suppose he bas good grounds for saying so, aud so long t took for the development; it he says 0,000,000 years, that was the time In which evolution performed its work. Suppose Sir William Thompson says that life could not have existed at such or such a time; evolutionists will tell him to discuss that question with tbe geologists we take what they say; it does not concern us."- Health and Happiness. Health and happiness go together. There is no use of talking about it, for they do. jNot all the medicines or creeds in the world can make a bilious, nerv ous, sick person nappy. Jtle must be well before be can say, "I am iu good coudltion in mind and body." There are a great many wrong notions in the world, and everybody has imbibed some of them. All have prescriptions for whoever complains. Some take this or that nostrum; others lay an uuhappi uess to the heart or conscience, while the seat of trouble is the stomach or liver. And it will be so as long as tbe world stands, unless a reform be made n our habits. In the first place, a man's house should be the most healthful, quiet, rest ful spot on earth to him. The religion of a man's life should begin here; find its spring and nurture here. All tbe churches and meetings under the sun cannot do or undo what his home does, When be enters there, aud shuts the door behind him, be should feel that the cares, duties, business, noise, smells, and everything else of the outside world are shut out. Here are relaxation and rest. He throws off his former life as he throws off his coat. When be sleeps, he should do it as going iuto the laud of forgetfuluess to come back refreshed and new. When he readsor chats with his family, it should be as he would sit dowu In an orchard to enjoy its fruits, or in a flower garden to be delighted and soothed by its beauty and fragrance. Home should be the club, library, picture-gallery, aud sanctuary. But there are material arrangements, con nected with our social lite; and not the least among them are cooking and breathing. Poor or partially cooked food will drive health out of the body and happiness out of tbe heart; and bad or no ventilation will ruin the peace of any house. Une of the best and great est blessings in a house is aji open fire place, it is where the members of tbe family mostly congregate, and are in he best spirits. The hearth-stone bas witnessed more cheerfulness, and lis tened to more pleasant words, and seetr brighter, happier laces than any other place in the world. The ouly prescrip tion we give is, go and make your home bright and healthful, and it will be happy.. Not Ashamed of Work. Two of the most agreeable girls we ever met kept a grocery store yes, and kept I well, though they had beeua rich man's daughters. When that father lost his wealth, and became a confirmed invalid did they sit down and wring thel hands? Did they go moaning all thei days, beggiug men to give them a little sewing, a little teaching, a little copy ing? Notthey. They began, in a small way, to Keep a dry goods aud grocery store. They gave fair measure and righ change. They kept what people wanted and it anything was called for which they had not, they put It down In the list of their purchases. They had th cleanest, tbe nicest grocery for miles around, hired a clerk,- bought a horse, built a house, and are at this moment independent property-holders, as well as piquant and agreeable womeu. It paid them to step out of the beaten track and hnd a uew road to fortune. A good old minister in the south of Scotland had a servant man, Sandy who bad an inveterate habit of either over or under comprehending the truth The minister had labored long to con vince Sandy that his conduct was sin ful, but to no purpose. On a certain oc casion, having been put to cnnsiderabl inconveuienco through Sandy's bad habit, be again lectured him about hi besetting weakness, but utterly failed to convince bandy as to his shortcoming, Still pressing the matter more closelv home, he said, "Well, Sandy, if it's not a sin, wnat oo you call it Y" Sandv shrugging his shoulders aud looking very innocent, replied, "Weel, 'deed sir, I think you may ca't a moral squint." Twn fhlncrn inrltsnonQlhlo fn QiinpaQQ. knowledge of one's self and knowledge oi iuu worm. Old-Pashloned Thanksgiving. The first public Thanksgiving in New England was held in December, 1621, about a year after the landing of tbe Pilgrims. The harvest having been gathered, and the severest labor of tbe year having ended, the Governor sent out four men, with guus, to procure ma terial for a feast, that In a special man ner they might rejoice and give thanks. The day was, as Its name would indicate, day or thauksgiving to uod for his many mercies. It was also a day of general rejoicing. In short, it was a re ligious festival, without tbe formality aud restraiut of the ordinary Puritan Sabbath a festival in which religion did not exclude sociality, but in which the two were happily comblued. As the colonies grew iu size and in num bers, and friends became scattered. Thauksgiving gradually came to b5 a day or reunion of families, a day when all tbe children returned to tbe old homestead to meet familiar faces and exchange friendly greetings. Still, it maintained the same general character. It was pre-eminently a day of public thauksgiving, a day when all united to praise the Lord and to return thanks for blessings, special or ordinary, for peace and prosperity, for abundant harvests, aud for freedom from any public ca lamity. it was customary also to remember, , this time, God's goodness to us as a nation. His providential cuidauceof the Pilgrims to our shores, aud his merciful protection of their interests. They ac knowledged also the blessing of good governmeut, of free schools, aud of 11b- rty, equality and justice to all man kindwhich blessiugs they fully en- oyed, as they supposed. It was also a day of private thanksgiving, when In dividuals called to mind whatever mer cies they bad received, and expressed tneir graiituue ior tue same. All hasten to tbe village church. where the pastor directs their thoughts above, and urges upou them tbe duty of obedience to the "Father of all mer cies." Then comes the dinner the old New Englaud dinner, so famed iu song and story; tbe table filled with good things aud surrounded by happy faces; for a moment, all voices are hushed, while the aged sire, with beau tiful simplicity, invokes the Divine blessing. Again, at evening time, after the pleasures of the day, the whispered secrets, the delightful little chats, the romps and games of the childreu are ended, the grandfather calls them all to gether, and, taking down the old famil iar isibie, reads therefrom a chapter. and, all kneeling, he pours out his soul in praise to God for this Thanksgiving day aud all its privileges. buch was the day to our fathers a day of thauksgiviugand rejoicing. Now what is it to us 7 Mas its character changed: yes, to some extent. It is still a season of religious and social festivity, but the order Is reversed. It is uo long er thauksgiving aud rejoicing, but re- oiciug nrst, and thauksgiving some thing secondary and of less importance. Thanksgivingday is gradually losing its old religious flavor. All the sociality is retained, as it should be; but tbe relig ious elemeut is being slowly crowded out. Public services are, it is true, held in our churches; but too often tbe preacher makes it an occasion for ex pressing his political views or display ing his kuowledgeof the principles of government ail of which Is entirely out of place in the pulpit, and tbe ten dency of which is, not to awaken grati tude in the hearts of his hearers, but to engender strife among them. Further more, the custom ot attending public services on this day is rapidly becom ing a thing oi the past. Again Thauksgiving day is getting to be more of a name than a reality, on tbe part of individuals. As tbe com forts of life have Increased with the pro gress of civilization, we bave learned to take them as a matter of course, with out considering from whom they come, not that we are less grateful than our fathers, but that the day of gratitude is less faithfully observed by us than it was by them. iv. Jr. Observer. Idle Ladies. It is a pity that so many young ladles look upou domestic service with marked contempt. Many of our social difficul ties would be almost eutirely mastered if young ladies would consent to become lady-helps in their own homes. Noth ing can be more Intolerable than tbe mismanagement and discomfort to be found in countless households, where there are plenty of grown-up daughters, who bave really but little to do but grumble at the dreariness of their lives, and tret themselves into permaneut ill- health, .remaps they take sumcient in terest in the house-keeping to wonder contemptuously how their mother can be troubled with such inefficient ser vants, "creatures" who cannot even make palatable coffee, or keep tbe sil ver bright. They have no patience with the shortcomings of the over-worked housemaid, from whom they expect as much attendance as if she had only a lady's maid's duties to perform. How ever unreasonable their demands, they expect any servant iu the house to beat all limes in readiness to answer mem. Half the young women one meets sink Into a state of eemi-imoeciuty, irom idleness and want of interest in their surroundings. From mere thoughtless ness and ignorance they grow np exact ing and unreasonable. From want of active exercise they become the prey of hysteria, dyspepsia, and spinecomplaint. They marry any one who will have them, simply because tney are so oorea that any change is welcome. Tuey mase bad wives, because they have never learned the rudiments of domestic econ omy. When me uniortunate motnerot such daughters allows herself to be per suaded, against her will, to add a lady help to tbe establishment, the height of absurdity is reached. Four or five com mon-place, stupid girls may lounge about the house one with a piece of soiled fancy-work, another playing snatches of dauce music, a third reading French novels on the sofa, while per haps a pretty, graceful lady lays the fire, dusts tbe room, and endeavors probably in vain to bring order into the uncomfortable and chaotic estab lishment. Mr. Samuel Smiles says that "Those; whom God has joined iu matrimony, ill-cooked joints and ill-cooked potatoes have very often put asunder." A Minnesota girl has been serving on a railroad for some time as a brakeman. She dressed in male attire, and was not; suspected for some time.