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The Dansville advertiser. (Dansville, N.Y.) 1860-1866, January 31, 1861, Image 1

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J M Iterated U UCIL MfroeSTS'AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. SUBSCalPTIOX PUCt, One Dollar per Year, in Advanoe $1,60, Dttiveral to Village Subscribers. TCI ADYttTISER IAS THE LARGEST CIBCULAU03 Of any papor in this section, and subscribers aro con etantly coming In. Wo shall aim, as horctoforo, to wake it ono of the best Advertising mediums in tho country, and believe, that wo give our patrons more ihan \talua racoirod\ by the, following lovr RATES OF ADVERTISING: On* Weok, One Month, Three Months, Six Months, On* Yaar, 60 2.00 3.00 4 .00 1.25 4 .00 0.00 8.00 3.00 8.00 12.00 18.00 6.00 12.00 18.00 30.00 8.00 20.00 80.00 60.00 Published Weekly, BY A. O. BUNNELL. VOL. II. DANSVILLE, N. Y., THURSDAY, JANUARY 31, 186L JtiEJSTH WJJYTED. VI* oIT«r the most liberal inducements to agents who would liko to ranvaif for subscribers,—roado known oa application Tho Advertiser ROC S postage fro* In the County, und is but 3'i cents per quarter eliewhera- Address A O DUNN ELL. Dnnsville, N, Y <&%(tl $'m Qook and $ob grinting l>»n>vlUe, N. V . ;*i Panctixa of ovory description, dono with netit mil »nd dispatch, and on rory lovr terms. Presses Tjp«, Borders, Ornaments, Cuts, etc., entirely new— Itcilttien unequalled in this soetion of country (a _Ofn«o in tho New American Hotel Block, en Irtnce through Rogers Bros Storo S. P. WISXElt & CO., Manufacturers nnd Dealers in Out Tobacoo, Snuff & Cigars. Manufactory, Corner School k Tenth Sis., Buflnlo, N. \V\. SiAIX STRUT, - - - D.IVSVIU.E, S ? BY O C TAYLOR. This Hote'l is now llttc.l up to meet the wants of tho travailing c immunity in a superior style, and with ample accommodation for a largo number of guests The table is at all times supplied with the host of the •ftason Particular ittien'imi paid to the pleasure and comfort of thoso whu stop at tins Hotel Sc.' \ FTH. MARSHALL, PLAIN AND ORNAMENTAL BoolL-Binder, And Blank Book Manufacturer, DurnV Block, Turner of Buffulo and State Streets, Rochester, .V Y K K. KoiJKUH £ Co., Agents for Dwiswllo nnd vicinity HmiTxrsciiLick,\ Kaahlonable Barber and Hair Dresser, WENDELL BLOCK, - • MAIN STREET, DANSVILLE, N. Y. Hair, Whiskers & Moustaches Dy$d Jfltr tht .Itotl Jipproved Htylt. A. B. VAN DUZEK, Attornc) and Counsellor at Law. OFFICE WITH D. W. NOTES, HERALD BLOCK. Kf Particular Mtentmn paid to the collection of Atcounts EX OLE HOTEL, CORNER or rwi i IV D JEJFEIISOV STREETS, M L STKUM VN, Pn.pn. ti.r Thli lintel hat Ivcn flttcl up and mn< h improved alnce it c inv into tl,* luinds of u* present u«ticr, who feels conlidcnt th.it hi- erm nn-nl tho wants nf the public in an entirely snt:»foi-tory manner Kf UJlJS'Sl'II.l.E HOME, HI IV J' Li'/IKR. The Panirilln Ifniise is in>\v in better condition for the sccommo.latuin of the public than eier before, and is ffuiiiittt; a wtdo spread reputation fur its supe­ rior miinugoiiient. . Mf r. t \ J.VMMUSS, STRING WATER, >'. Y DEALER IV I'ry f.onds. tirriceri's. l\ul..rs' Trimmings Hosiery, lilorcs, Shirts, Drawers, Ilubberi, Boots and Shoes, I'nitfg and Modi, ines , (locks, Wutches, Juvelry, Yankee Notions, in'., Ac GJEXT'S DHESS~IIATS, Fall Style, l'Wi \lso n lar^o assortment of tho ln- t«st styles of Soft JIafs. pist rei'eivnd. at tho HUSTON Ll.uTUlNtr HOl'SE. Ssptomber, lSiW BIL.L.i .4RlT BOOM. Scott's Billiard Rnnm«, provided with two nun- TSlleil Utiles, are Miunteil in llownrth's now Brick Block, 3d story upen at all reasonable hours 8 A. SCOTT. Proprietor IleauO to JLadles i 13 A PRETTY P1I \PF .ri BONN'KT, TRlKlMIlD IN CiOOD STYLE, A largo assortnii-nt n >w ready at the Kmporiuin of Fashion and First Premium '.Millinery Storo of Mr and Mrs J. B. l'rtisia,' West side of -Main Str/\\!. Dnnsville 9 \SCOTT'S COliXKT'lJAXJ), OmnwvUlt, J\\ I\. This celebrated Band, eomposed of fifteen exeel- lont musicians, is now better prepared than over bo. fire, to execute nil orders for IIIIIMC for .Military nnd Cine processions. Anniversary Exercises, etc., etc Orders rospeetfullv solieitecf Address c \rr \ j^mTT. Dnnsville. N y Tinted, in Color' and Plain, gotten up in every stylo, well printed, and furnished at the lowest rates,\ by A. 0. Bunnell, at the Vdtortisrr (MIi< e JlltS. C. L. BOTTUJf, Msnufaeturer of Hair Jewelry, such as Ear Rincs, Pius, Necklaces, Rings. Bracelets, Crosses, Charms, Guard Chains, Vest 7'hains, Ac., opposite the Amer­ ican Hotel, Main street. 'J .wjjrr/.v HOP, FMhionablo Burber nn<l flair I'resser Rooms ad- J oinhni'Aiawrican Hotel. Mam St.. Pimsville. N Y WeMlMgr and Visiting Cards Ml From the Uomo Journal, ar JOUIX D. IIOLCOM*!. The strcnm is at my feet As of old, And its little billows bent On the pobblos whltonnd cold j A music that was swsot To my our, In the happy, happy days. A When I sung to thee my lays, Fanny, dear I Tho margont blooms, 1 see, { Aro as gny As thoso you gave to ma In that pleasant morn in May. When I breathed my loro to-thee With a start; For I feared your lips would opo But to crush the chorishod hopo Of my heart. And though you did not speak, I could guess, By the blushes on yourchoek, That you fain would answer yes, And 1 prest your lips so mqtsk To my own, That scorned to mine to cling. While I envied not a king On his throne! O loTcly was the bride When she stood At tho alur by my sido, In the bud of womanhood ; Yet faintly I doscriod What was said, Till I heard tho parson s«y t lu his solemn, fooling way k \Ye ore wed!\ Our lives wont smoothly by} I.iko a stroam, And wc had no causo to sigh That our lore had been adfeam, For no cloud obscured tho sky Till thsday When thou didst, like a flower In the chilling autumn shower, Pass away There s a littlo fairy one Near me now— A merry, prattling son, With his mother's oyenndbrow, \V horn a father dotes upon Year bv year, For ho seems to me to bo Like a picture true of thee, Fanny, dear! \No not became it Is their home, for the wide, wide world ia alike theirs to rest in; but it is the spot of love, tho reunion of kin­ dred spirits—because, like me, they have a beacon star, luring thorn onw t »rd, where they shall moot with bliss— bocaUM T have loved you madly, passlonnteiy— this is why for years I have noyer weoriod In searching for you.\ \I havo told you, ere this, I had no love to give; that I could not lovo twice, for tho first still enchained my heart.\ \Lovo 1 Toll mo, fuir lady, was it love thatmade Allan Evorard turn from his gen- tlo wifo, who clung to him for support—nay evonlife? Was it love that darkened his brow, when ho bade her go forth an alien from her own home? If so, it is passing strnngo. Lucy, dearest Lucy, I hav« lorcd as ho never even dreumod of; in secret I have cherished tho dream ofyour happiness;\ and his voico sank low, liko tho hum of star­ lit waters. \I have wealth to bring you ev­ ery luxury ardent lovo like mine could de­ vise,—will you not Ieavo this dreary plaoe, and come with mo 1 Already your beautiful eyes are dim, and your chock pale and wast­ ed, but with mo all this s shall be rostorcd— will you not come?\ No motion—no look to tell ono chord of tho heart was touched, as sho replied in al most unearthly calmnesi— \Tempt mo not; for their sakes I would not sin, lest ray blight bo added to theirs.\ \Hal tho woman dreams ot restoration know you not, fair lady, tho worleT'Yias set tho seal of degradation on yuur brow already? What matter it, then, whether you have sinned or not^ while the world names you On the Death of tt Child. Another littlo form's asleep, Ami a littlo spirit gono; Another little voice is hushed; And a little sister born Two littlo fee t are on the way To the home^buyond the skios, Our heuils arc liko tho vQld that comes When a strain of music dies. A pair of little baby shoes, And a lock nf polden hair; The toy our littlo darling toved, And the .lress sho used to wear; Thebaic gra%e in the shady nook NVliero Uio Uoworcts lotfo to grow— And these arc all of the littlo hopo 1 li.it came threo yonrs Sgo. * The b-rds «ill sit on the branch above, Andaman requiem To tho beautiful littlo sleeping form That used to sing to theSn; • But never again will the.^ttii^lpa^ . To their songs of lore r^j^f— > • , For that silvery voice is bunded, with* , Tho minstrelsy on high;.' ' - ; •'• 2 to jJtovg TWO SIDES OF LIFE'S PATHWAY. DY AMANDA M. DtfUOLASB. CHAPTER JI—CONTINUED. Faster, faster flew tho busy flngors, quicker sped thoughts likelightning 6n, Bringing back every smile, each kind word, and all tho love luvishcd on her once, '.weaving with it darker scenes until tho wllolo sky was cov­ ered—not ono stnr visible. Lower burned the candle; fainter cameitsrays—a moment and it was out, but her task accomplished and she arose with a feeling of relief, but it soon vanished. Then she resumed her seat ngnin, and leaned down her weary head, all alone in that pale, beautiful'\moonlight. When sho had been actively employed, an impetus was given thought; but.now, when the excitement was over, -all strength, both mentally nnd physically, seemed gone, and in the wild chaos of her brain there was noth­ ing but utter desolation. There was a step on tho stairs, and Lucy Everard cowered still lowbr in tho silver light that played nround.her. Could it bo her merciless landlord!—no, nolr to-night; two days must elapse ere hfcr rent would bo duo ; — a. hand was on the dyor knob—it turn­ ed, and before the trcmblifig woman stood one whose coming had woke smiles in. other days, but now a deep loathing. Not less bright and fascinating wai tho oye in its snake like glitter; but on <he arched brow, and around the mouth, were lin$« that spoke ill dissembled triumph—tjut they had all or excitement to hor cheek. But a littlo while and tho toil, tho perplexing cares wore laid asido, and she turned hor weary feet from tho city. No gleam of gorgeousnesd lingored in her heart—it had been too long and soveroly tried; no blessed rest was there for hor, and sho wa^ going whero ono, dearly oved still, might lay his hand upon hor and say, \go in peace, and may God forgivo you ovpn as I do.\ Now, in Ins boreavement, hie heart would bo lost proud, and ho would notrofuso her the only boon sho asked—and then when death came, sho could seek her child's grave, and, loaning hor throbbing head on the grassy mound, sink into drcam- ess quiet. Many a time did her strength well nigh fail her, but well she knew tho race was not to the swift, nor tho battlo to tho strong ; and this thought gave her new strength each day; but when at last Koscdell was reached, it scemod as if sho could lay down and sleep forever in tho grand old woods. Oh, ho w beautiful, tho tall, dark troo3 looked, and the wind swept through tho leafy branches melodiously, and tho riv­ ulet trilled along with a low, gushing song. Through an opening gleamed the vine-clad cottage, but her dyes grow dim when sho gazed upon it, and sadly she turned away, feeling deeper than over her own unworthi- ness. Then sho bathed hor hoatod brow from the limpid stream, and sat down to rest on a mossy stone. There gleamed bright sparks beforo her eyes, and half insensibly a soft dreaminess stole over her spirit—a mo­ ment, and sho was asleep. Tho birds sang lqwor, and the winds breathed softer as if they would fain have comforted her. (To bo^'ontinucd.) Printed at tho Advert .scr OfTice in the most unique , . musical and fashionable stvle. and neatly nut up in cases ex- l ost their power now, ana . im low, musitui presldy fortho purpose ^ A O BUNNELL j w(jko nQ cc j 10 j n her Jicart as.hc said— ••So, My pretty bird, I have found you at last!\ T. EK l»V.V JO.YES, Manufacturer of niit»cio« and Cutters, corner of Pinn j and Spruce streets. Tninsvillc Ho maintfa< turesiho best anil highest finished f'nrrin^es. B IICKI C ters In Western New York Carnage Trim »*le. Bign Painting done to order 12 ps and Cut- rnmmtngs for fJTJX.OfJVE8 For Schools, Nurserymen. Merchants. Mechanics and others, printed at low rates. ( all at the Adve- >»er Office, Dnnsville, N Y A O BUNNELL FKJJVX STKM'JMMOT, Barber and Hair Dresser. Dnnsville, N. Y. in XcdgoB Block, Mum Street. Rooms fit up in the hivst stvtc on short notice, and in li» \ 1' r« l„ | tt „ a t ft,, \,,<, r Offer V •> ItT NSri .I, Sho stirred - not—n ; cith£r did ono pulso quicken as she replied, in 6 cold, passionless tone, \why havo you sought me?\ \Why have I sought 3 'oy?\ and the stran­ ger knelt beforo her. \\V^hy do tho birds sock their nest at eve? why do tho fleecy clouds remain forever in tho sky? Toll mo this Lucy Everard.\ \BCCAUSO she 6aid, an$ hor words soiind- t cd liko the falling of water upon a rock, \bc» ' cause it t> their home.\ among its fallen—and far sooner would Al lan Everard take to his bosom a viper to nurs.o than one who hss once betrayed.— Why should you toil day by day, but only at last to starve or sin, if sin thcro be in smil­ ing on Vovc liko mine.\ There arc limes when the heart is goaded to its utmost by thu iron of stern suffering, until every fibre seems crushed and hienpa blc of resistance; and »<• it was with Luoj Everard, as she \siuil without once rnisinrr her eyes from the floor— \As Evo was restored to Eden, so do I dream of restoration. When the body hath toiled, suffered, until the worn out spirit seeks another sphere, then, and then only do I hope for re-union. Oh, I am not tho vain creaturo to believe he would forgive—but for my child's sake I would not sin.\ \Your child:\ and the stranger's lip curl ed in derisive trilimph, as, tightly grasping her arm until she fairly shivered from the pain, hecotitinuoJ— \lir-tnii Lucy EternrJ; a month ago they said he was dying—dead ho must bo by this time, and they said his rnothor's was an interdicted name. Aye! what of the past havo you to lhe. for iiov, all, every vestige of it ia gone—no trace, no mark left.\ There was a wild confusion in her brain, it feeling that she could fling herself upon tho destroyer's bosom in ecstney of laughter, and tell him she would go whero he went—it mattered not what became of her now, for eTcry light was darkened. And he saw it all; knowing, too, fhat tho cup of cold wn tor, standing on the table, wouIdTestorc to the exejted brain its clearness, scud from the hearth^ the fever vein gnawing nt its very vitals—yet gave it not, but watched for tho light of reason -to waver. But it did not en tircly fail. It was dark, very .dark in tho mist that enshrouded her brain—but slowly there camo a glimmering light, borno by a tiny angel that had orieu called her mother, (\and it whispered, \never more should tho light fade out on her pathway—that he was waiting to clasp her in his arms when sho rcachsd tho portals of death, and but a step divided them.\ No, sho would not yield now, when tho heaviest clouds wcro over and she roso from her seat scarcely less beautiful than the angels, and whllo he thin lip quivered with intense emotion said— \Once beforo I told you my lips should never belio my heart; now I tell you, death misery, privation and suffering of every kind might come,'nnd I would not yield my hopes of heaven for tho brightest bliss earth ever witnessed. No, I can die now, and no gin can bar mo from my child—no unforglv- en crime shut mo from yon bright land. I spurn you—I detest you—and yet may God forgive, and teach mo to do tho samo.\ There was a flood of eloquent words—I had well nigh said love—but that sin can never be—yot thoy fell -unheeded on Lucy Evorard, as sho knelt in the moonlight and tried to murmur, \God bo merciful even un­ to me.\ llour after hour passed, and exter­ nal things riveted not hor attention—nothing save the simple prayer passed her lips. Dimly came tho morning light creeping up tho eastern skies, slow, D *ut not tho less suro; and-ono by ono tho misty clouds dis­ persed until tho wholo east was an inter­ mingling of rose, gold, and fawn color, ting­ ed here and there by blue and ycliow, and then suddenly, like tho uprising of tho lark, camo tho glorious orb of day; still Lucy Evorard knelt- thoro alone. Tho warm breath of summer morn fanned hsr feverod I-brow, and brought calfnnoss to her heart; and when sho rose, there was a brighter light in her eyo than had shono thore for many a ! long day. and new resolves hRd lent the c»l- Three Cents per Copy. ~ NO. k, THIXOS THAT AUK COMINO.-—Manhood will como, arid tho dying b»d will come, and the very last look you shall ever cast upon your acquaintances will come, and the agony of tho parting breath will como, and the timo when you aro stretched a lifeless corpse boforo tho oyos of weeping relatives will come, and the coflln that is to enclose you will come, and that hour when tho company will assemble to carry you to the church yard will come, and that minuto when you are put in tho gravo will como, and the throwing in of tho looso earth into tho narrow house whore you aro laid, and tho spreading of the green sod over it—all, all will como on eve­ ry living creature who-now hears me; and in a few littlo years tho minister who now speaks, and the people who now listen, will bo carried to thoir long homes, and mako room for another generation. Now, all this, you know, must and will happen—your common senso and common oxporienco servo to con­ vince you of it. Perhaps it may havo been little thought of in tho duys of careless and thoughtless unconcern which you have spent hitherto ; but I call upon you to think of it now, to lay it seriously to heart, and not longer to triflo and delay, when tho high matters of death and judgment and eternity arc thus set so evidently before you. POWER OF A WORD.—Wendell Phillips, Esq , in his lecture last winter, before the Parent Washingtonian Society, told the fol­ lowing story: A mother, on tho green hills of Vermont, stood at her garden gate, holding by hor right hand a son sixteen years of age,''mad with love of the sea. \Edward said sho, \they tell me that the great temptation of a soaman 'B lifo is drink. Promise me, before you quit your mother's hand, that you never will drink.\ Said he, for ho told mo the story, \I gavo her tho promise, and I went the broatl globe over: Calcutta, tho Mediter­ ranean, San Francisco, tho Cape of Good Hope ; and in the. forty years, whenover I saw a glass filled with the sparkling liquor, my mother's fnrmby the garden gate on the hill?idc of Vcrmont^raeo, u p before me, and to-day, at sixty, my:; < iips.'are innocent of the taste of liquor._ ~W/ii jijot that sweet evi­ dence of the power^ft,* single word * And yet it was but halfjf-if'fq*,-'* said he, \yester- dav there camo into my counting room a young man of forty, and asked me, 'Do you knowmc?' 'No,'said I.\ 'I was brought Qnce,' said he to my informants 'drunk into your presence on ship-board ;• you were a passenger; the captain kicked mo asido; you took me into your borth, kopt mo there till I had slept off tho intox-ication, and then you asked mo if I had a mother. I said never that I knew* of; I never had heard a mother's voico. You' told tnc of yours at the garden gate, and to-day, twdnty \years later, 1 am master of ono of tho finest paok- cts in Ne w York, and I came to ask you tfc come and see me. \ How far back that littlo candlo threw its beam; the mother's'word on the green hill­ side of Vermont! ' God be thanked for the almighty power of a single word. WHY PKOPLE BIUXK.—Mr. A. drinks, because his doctor has recommended him to drink. Mr. B. bccauso his doctor has ordered him not, and ho hates quackery. Mr. C. takes it because he 's wet. Mr. D. because bo's dry. Mr. E. because ho feels something rising in his stomach. Mr. F. because he focls A kind of sinking in his stomach. Mr. G. because ho 's going to see a friond off to California. Mr. H . because ho's got a friend como from 'Australia. , Mr. .1. because ho's so hot. Mr. K. hocauso ho's so cold. Mr. L. because ho'sgotft pain in his back. Mr. M. bccauso ho's got a pain in his side Mr. N. becau8ohc 's got a-pain in his head. Mr. O. bccauso ho's got a pain ia his breast. Mr. P. because he 's got a pain all over him. Mr. Q. bocause he fools light and happy. Mr. B. because ho feels heavy and misera blc. Mr. S. beoauso he's married. Mr. T. because he isn't. . Mr. L*. because no ono will have him. Mr. V. because ho likes to see his friends around him. Mr. W. bocause he's got no friends and en­ joys a gla^s by himself. Mr. X. because his uncle left him a legacy- Mr. Y. bocause his aunt cut him off with a shilling. Mr. Z.—Wo ahould bo happy to inform our readers what Mr. Z's reason's aro for drinking, but on putting the question to him he was found to be too drunk to answer. HE that knows useful things, and not he that knows many things, is tho wise man SEVEN FOOLS.—The envious man, who sends away his mutton because tho person next to ly m is eating venison. 2. The proud man, who gets wet through rather than ride in the carriage with his in forior. 3. Tho jealous man, who spreads his bed with stinging nettles and then sleeps in it. 4. The litigious man, who goes to law in the hope of ruining his opponent, and gott ruined himself. 5. The extravtignnt man, who buys a her ring, and takes a cab to carry it home. 6. The aiigr}- man, who learns to play the tambourine because he is annoyed by the playing of his neighbor's piano. 7. The ostentatious man, who illuminates tho outside of his house most brilliantly, and sits inside in the dark. ANURT LETTERS.—An angry letter is much fiercer than an angry speech. There tho words remain scorching, not to be ex plained away, not to be atoned for a kiss— not to be softened down by tho word of love that may follow so quickly upon spoken an­ ger. This nt least should be a rule through the lettcr-M riling world, that no angry let tor be posted till four-and-twenty hours shall have elapsed since it wa3 written. We all know how absurd is that other rule of saying tho alphabet when you aro angry. Trash ! Sit down and write your IeUcr; write it with all tho venom in your p™vcr ; spit out yqur spleen at tho fullest; it will do you good. You think- ypu have1 been injured; say all fhat you oan sjiy with all your pois oued eloquence, and gratify yourself by read ing it while your temper is still hot. Then put it in. your* , dcsk«; and,/»s a matter of course, burn it beft^breakfast tho following morning. Bcliovo^ie, that you will then have a double gratification. t v A STRANGE ENCOUNTER.—When Louis Philippe and his queen were in exile, in Claremontj thoy visited the Convent of the Sacred Cffiiir. The nun who conducted them through tho house, was so amiable and agreeable, that tho queen, on leaving, ex­ pressed her extreme satisfaction. \ Per Imps,\ added her majesty, \ you will be in­ terested to know who your visitors arc, This gentleman is Louis Philippe ; I am tho Queen Amolie.\ The nun, bowing pro­ foundly, replied, with a gentle smilo, \And I am Madenioisollo Bonaparte,\ \ MOTHER,\ exclaimed a littlo poet of four summers, \^ston to tho winds making mu­ sic for the leaves to dance by.\ MANY beautiful ladies who walk thestreet seem very angry if thoy arc gazed at, and sadly disappointed if they aro not. THE soul and the bodj' are married for life, and it often proves a most unhappy match—faults and injuries on both sides. - To prevent thesmoll of cooking in a house have nothing for breakfast, and warm i over for dinner and supper. \How did you liko your visit to your sweetheart?\ Oh, I-didn't liko the footing with which I was received by her father. EAST -tillago and scanty harvests charac terizo that kind of fancy farming known as \raising expectations.\ THE women must think that wo men are great robbers; wo aro all the while going about robbing them of their very names. A. LAROE FAMILY.—^A father of threo sons and. five daughters was askod what fam ily ho had. Tho answer was: \ I hav threo sons and thoy have each Ave sistcre, \Mercy!\ replied tho interrogator, \sic family yo maun ha'.\ Q UERY.—When a traveller is delayed in his journey by frequent obstructions on a railroad, is tho misfortune owing to * train of circumstances, or by th'c circumstances of I a trajn ? HZitty Hyder.' KnoeUng by the slraam I saw , Kate, the farmer's daughter, Drinking—in hor roay palm * Dipping'up the water. Sho had thrown hor hat aside, Bare her arms and abouldar; Each unconscious charm displayed, . Kado my lore the bolder. flo I slowly, tenderly, . Wont and k'neU-l^Melwr— . 1 • Drank with h'or'frbm o\it t&i •tre'am— •Blushing Kitty Ryder t \ ' ' Aind I aaid, \The poets thmk, LIfelalllcoariver: . .' .Shall wo not Us water*.drlnk,^ Always, love, togothe^7 l ,, ; Many years have passed uirby, . t, Like tho flowing water, j - . But I drink Ufa's itroam to-day, With the farmer's daughUf. Tho r >ead Wife. In comparison with tho loss of * wifo, all other bereavements aro trifles. The w.ifo ; sho who Alls so large a space in the domostic heaven; sho who is busied, so\ unwearied j bitter, bitter is tho tear that falls on hor clay. Yo'u stand besido her grave, and think of the past; it seems an ambor colored pathway where tho sun shono upon beautiful flowers, or the stars hung glittaring overhead; Fain would tho soul linger thero. No thorns aro eiueinbercd above the sweet clay, save those your own hands have unwittingly planted. Her noble, tender heart lies open to your in­ most sight. You think of her as all gentle­ ness, all beauty and purity. But sho is dead. The dear head that has so often lain upon your bosom, no w rests upon a pillow of cltty. Tho hunds that administered so untiringly are faded,'white and, cold beneath tho gloomy portals. Tho heart whoso every beat measured an eternity of love, lies under your feet. And there is no wbite arm over your shoulder now ~no speaking face to look up in the eyo of love— no trembling lips to murmur, \Oh it is too sad!\ Thero is a strange hush in every room ! No smile to meet you at nightfall—and the clock ticks, and ticks,, and ticks! It was sweet musia when she could hear it. Kow it seems to knell only tho hours through which you watch the shadows of death gathering upon the sweet face. But many a tale it telleth of joys past, sorrows past, sorr6ws shared and beautiful words registered above. You feel that the grave cannot keep her. You know that she is often by your?side, an angel presence. Cherish these emotions, they will make you happier. Let her holy presence bo as a charm to keep you from evil. In all new and pleasant connections givo her a place in your heart. Never forget- what sho has been to you—that sho has ldved you.— Bo tender to her memory.—A r . Y, Traveller. \Always Sinjfinfi;*\ Whilo talking with a neighbor, I heard % sweet plaintive voice singing that beautiful hymn : \ Josus, lover of my soul.\ The child was up stairs. I knew that it was a child's woico from its silvery softness. I listened awhile and then said : \That child bas a sweet voice.\ • \ Ycs,,sho'has,\\ returned my friend, \sho is always singing. V Always singing. Sweet, happy child! Bird of angel wing; Who Would not envy thee that gushing flood- of happiicss within thy soul! A soul strong to will and to do ! a soul lighted with tho smilo of Josus and anchofed-on tho surest hope; a soul that with moro than a childs* strength shall part the dark waves as it goes down the surging tide of death. Always singing. I passed that way again. Summer was herein her fullness, strewing the earth with flowers and tho sky with stars. Tho samo sweet voico was. thrilling on tho air, '• 0, hod I the wings of a dove, I would fly.\ Tbis tiriio the littlo singer was in the yard. I gazed -upon the spiritual softness of hor features; the sweet eyes like \brown birds flying to the'ligb't/j tho.line expressive oyes the dark silken\'.'curls; I felt thot sho would soon* havo hor wish answered, and \find a refugo in heaven.\ Always singing! • Autumn camo ; the wild Swan was turn­ ing toward tho South; the lo 'aves were drop­ ping fr,om the trees,, and spears of frost glit­ tered in tho grass. A strip of crape fluttered from the shutter of the house whero my littlo singer lived.— Hor voico was closed in 'death, and tremb­ ling hands had bound, those • truant tresses upon her white brow. Bythe great white throne, by tho river of eternal gladness, sho was striking hor golden harp and singing i n the gushing fullness of imperishable glory.— Arthur's Home Maga­ zine.. NEOXECTED DUTT.^NO man has any right to manago his affairs in- such a way that hii sudden death would bring burdens and losses on other people. Thero may bo rare oases whero a man cannot really help entangle­ ments, or where, from inexperience, or lack of judgment, ho has brought his affairs into such a state that tho. interests of others de­ pend upon his lifo; but ho should mako all possible haste to extricato himself from such a position. Honor and honesty demand that ho should so conduct his business, that his. death should causo no one to ba wronged.— And as to dying, although all men every­ where believo that all other men will suroly die, yet thoy unito in thinking that thoy themselves are exceptions to this rula; or; at least, thoy act as i f thoy thought so. Thia is radically wrong. It is ovory man's du,ty in every transaction of.lifo, to bo influenced by tho fact tbat at any day or .any hour ho may die, tf

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