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N UMBER 934--NEW SERIES.
NORWALK, CONN.. TUESDAY, DECEMBER 5,1865.
VOLUME XLVIII--NUMBER 4'9.
NORWALK GAZETTE.
' ' OFFICE IN GAZETTE BUILDING.
A. a. BYINGTON a co.
A. H. meeron, J. B. Ems, G. N. Erma.
Subscription $2.00 per year in advance.
Advertising Rates.
Uuo Square, one insertion, $1 00
“, two insertions, 1 26
“ three insertions, 1 50
“ one month, 1 75
“ .two months, 3 00
‘- three months, 4 00
" six months, 7 00
" one year—with paper 5 00
Tvvo Squai Cr, one year—with paper, 25 00
Each additima! Square, per year, 3 00
One half column, one year, 40 00
one. Column, one year, 75 00
Fifteen» lines, or 100 words,make asquare. Fraction-
_ a1 pcrts of a square charged for as a whole.
(earlymdvertisements payable 1st of January &July.
1 early advertisers restricted to the business contem-
plated at the time of contract. '
W These terms will be in‘flex‘bly adhered town;
WSWESS ”illicit!“
33-” nicenne ’
Prof._0'f V0cal.& Piano Music,
TEA UHEIRSOOF THE
French and Spanish Languages,
Engagements made with parties for Sorrees.
I Pianos Tuned & Repaired.
Office‘at Whitney & Beckwith’s Photograph
Gallery, Norwalk Ct.
MADAM S. RICARD,
French Dress Maker,
~ ' OULD inform the Ladies of Norwalk,
‘ that she can be found at her residence,
lst door south of Mr. Robert Ells, on River
St. Having several years experience, and of
late ”with Madam Demorest-of New York,
91192313? no hesitation, in thus introducing
herself to the Public. Dresses cut and made
to order, plain and machine sewing and Em-
broideriug, &c., executed with neatness and
dispatch. , tf29
James E. Barbour, M. 1).,
_ 'rhysician and Surgeon,
Ofico at the Residence of Sherman P. Eitch,Esg.
’ ’ .WILTON, CONN.
o—n‘p->.
References :
Samuel'Lynes, M. D.,
Ira Gregory, “ Nor-walk, Conn.
J. A. Mc Lean, “
' Dr. E. row‘nnn macs,
- ”Physician and Surgeon,
Office at .the Drug Store of E. Blackman’
No. 11 Main Street, Norwalk. 32
a. s. Locnwoon,
Fashionable Draper & Tailor,
. ‘ 'GENTLEMEN’S FURNISHING
EMP ORI‘UM l '
Main-st, Norwalk, Conn.
5.13;. :oams-rnan a (30.,
I Whol'eSale and Retail Dealers in
Graceries, Flour, Peed, &o.,
14 and ’16 Main-st, Norwalk, Conn.
ETNA INSURANCE COMPANY,
Of Hartford. ' '
Incorporated in 1819, Charter Perpetual.
Capital and Assets, $3,128,820
Insure against loss and damage by Fire
on Terms adapted to the hazard,and
- consistent with the ’laws of _ '-
., compensation. .
GEORGE R. COWLES, Sole Agent
lv3 _.‘ For N orwalk and vicinity.
A. JACKSON 6!. 330.
N o. l Gazette 'Building.
OULD respectfully announce to the
= *- public and their old customers, that
they-have recently made extensive additions
to their stock of goods. We are now prepar-
ed to offer an assortment not to be surpassed
in Fairlield County, in quality or price. We
Wouldcall; particular attention to our stock of
Watches, which is lar e'r than ever before.—
We have a. fine but of ,adies’ Swiss Watches,
in gold’,cases,;at prices varying from $20 to
$75, which we can recommend as bein cor-
rect time keepers. Also, Gentleman’s atch-
es, in SliVCl‘ and gold cases, at any price from
1;? to $.00. We buy of the best importers in
New-fliork, and altogether for cash, so that
our “fail. ties for selling cheap could not be
renter. Our stock of Jewelry, Silver and
I’lateo Wares was never better than at pres-
ent. and comprises all of the latest styles that
are manufactured. A. JACKSON & BRO.
Groceries Cheaper than ever
FOR CASH!
Vl‘HE subscriber would inform the public
generally, that he still continues to sell
the best of Groceries, Provisions, etc., at his
old stand, N o. 4 Skiddy’s Block, as cheap as
the..cheape_st. He offers great inducements
to cash buyers, as he has as large an assort-
ment of groceries of the best qualities as can
be found at any store in the country. We
would invite the special attention of all to his
stock of '
COFFEES, TEAS AND SUGARS, _
which are of the may best quality, and will
be sold cheap. The public are invited tocall
and examine and judge for themselvefl.
A. MOREHGUSE.
IIVIPORTBD CUES-£32,
And SilVer-Plated Ware.
rl‘llE Subscriber, while in England, recent-
ly, made arrangements with the Shef-
ficd Manufacturers for the sale of Thomas
Harrison’s celebrated Cutlery, and has now
on exhibition and sale at his Store opposite
the Post Olhce, a large, and one of the most
complete assortlnents of Sheffield Cutlery
ever offered in this Country, including Car-
ving Knives and Forks; Bread Knives;
Butter Knives; Table Knives and Forks;
Pocket Knives 0! every description, inclu-
ding many curious styles; Scissors, &c., &c.
Also, just received, an assortment of beau-
tiiul Silver-Plated Ware, made by a
new patented process, by the same House
and is” the first lot imported into this coun:
Call and examine for yourselves.
try.
JOSEPH SHEPHERD.
tf'46]
' Business Change !
W ATERBURY & D UNCAN,
tablishincnt.
Lin of
arriage Making and Blacksmitliing.
Carriages made to order, and Painting,
Trimming, Repairing, &c., done by experi-
enced. “”0110“. with dispatch.
Good Carriage timber taken in ex-
change for work.
' buildings thereon,Stores;and buildings to let,
* CAB‘INE1"MAKERs,cc
. OVER FORTY VARIETIE’S and sizes of
OULD announce to the public that
they have purchased the Carriage Ma-
king Business formerly conducted by Mr.
Edson Beers, and Connected it with their
Blacksmith Shop, making one complete .es-
. They are now prepared toexe-
cute in the best manner, and with greater
dispatch than ever before, anything in the
G. 84 G. M. Holmes,
DEALERS 1N
Groceries,
I‘lour,
Provision, ac,
Main Street,
14 Norwalk, Conn
I J. FERRIS.
REAL ESTATE AGENT,
" LICENSED” OEanvANCEn.
5O ESTATES
OR SALE from 1:2 to 100 hundred acres
each, price, from $800~t0 $100,000, with
Rents'cOlleCte’d. Office in Tolles-& Ely’s
Drug Store,South'Norwalk. , Noticefor sur-
veying, may be left at the Gazette Office.
a. corn-ram: or. sons,
ARE nzow prepared to offer to the public
theirs“? andrsstasseumsniof -
'Good furniture,"
comprising every article usually kept in :1
Furniture Store, ever offered in Norwalk,
which will be sold
AT THE VERY LOWEST PRICES.
Our customers and the public generally who
want anything we keep, will find it to their
interest to 'give us a call. Spring Mattresses
of 3 or 4 different kinds, very cheap. Hair
Mattresses, made to order, and old ones made
over as good as new. . .
UNDERTAKING,
We keep on hand a very large assortment of
Gowns of every description, furnish shrouds,
scarfs, carriages, and everything necessary
for the interment of the dead, and at very
low prices. We are just completing another
splendid Hearse, which will give us two
H‘earses equal to any in the State, which we
shall use whenever our services are required,
without extra chaoge.
-*- ' ' E. QUINTARD & SONS.
N orwalk; March 15th 1862.
NEW FURNISHING STORE,
NEAR UPPER END OF MAIN ST. ii
‘ East Side of the Bridge.
I HAVE at my 'StOre in Norwalk the largest
assortmentof
Household Furniture
in this county, consisting of Bureaus of all
kinds, ”Lounges, Sofas, Tete-a-Tetes, Card
Tables, Marble top pier Tables and Center
Tables, Wash Stands,
EXTENSION TABLES,
CHAIRS and ROCKERS of all kinds,
Looking Glasses,
Picture Frames, and everything else in the
Furniture line cheap for Cash.
Repairing,
done promptly and by experienced workmen.
. Undertaking,
' I have on hand a large assortment of
COFFINS, of the best materials, and will
furnish shrouds, carriages, hearse, and every-
thing necessary for the burial of the dead,
cheaper than can be obtained elsewhere. I
have as good a Hearse as there is in the
county; and-will attend Funerals in neigh-
boring towns, without extra charge.
ELBERT RAYMOND.
Norwalk, Sept. 1st, 1863. 44
s-rcvus, HEATERS, RANGES,
Cooking Stoves and Ranges; over thir-
ty varieties and sizes of Parlor and Office
Stoves, notexcelled in beauty of desrgn, per.
faction of operation, or variety, by, any Stove
and COpper Wares, deals in J appan, Brittan-
ia, Crockery, Wooden, and Silver Plated
Wares, Stove Blacking, Coal Hods, Shovels
and Riddles, Brass Kettles, Sausage Cutters,
Matte, Brooms, Bells, Fire Place Grates, Sad
.Irons, Sheet Lead, Lead Pipe, Fruit Jars,
Fluid and Coal Oil Lamps, Stove Castings,
in fact, all that constitutes a well filled Kitch-
en Furnishing Store. Books, describing prin
ciple and management of Stove, free. Lar
gest assortmentr of Pumps in the State. Call
at ’ F. H. 'ASH’S
1v4 South Norwalk,Ct.
Hammer's Champagne Ale.
THE attention of the public is solicited to
the superior quality of
' ii A M M E R’S
Fresh Brewed Champagne Ale.
This Ale is brewed fresh at all seasons of the
year, and its Wing quality, especially of
that brewed during the most excessive hot
weather, is guaranteed for any length of time.
For sale in Barrels and half-Barrels, at
Selleck’s Packet Office, Norwalk. '
JEHIEL GRUMMAN,
Agent for the sale of Hammer’s Champagne
Ale, Wilton, Conn. 2
Norwalk Machine Shop.
THE subscriber would respectfully inform
Manufacturers and others using machi-
nery,in Norwalk and Vicinity, that he is pre-
pared to do all things pertaining to a gener-
al machine shop. All orders for the making
or reparing ofevery description of machi-
nery, attended to with promptness by expe-
rienced workmen. Having added a steam
Engine, (in addition to water-power) to his
works he flutters himself that he is well pre-
pared to do all kinds of work, at very short
notice. ‘ ISAAC CHURCH, Jr. ‘
Machine shop, just back of'the Post Office
and Horse Railway Building.
N orwalk, March lst, 1865. 11
WILLIAM B. SWAN,
SADDLER lit HARNESS MAKER,
ADJOINING Danbury and Norwalk R.
. R. Depot, Norwalk, Conn., keeps con-
stantly on hand and will make to order eve-
ry description of
Harnessdic roe Furniture, Trappings
or Clothing. Also Saddler’s Hardware and
outfits, Truul s, Valises, Carpet Bags, &c.
All in want of anything in his linc,will do
well to give him a call. Orders for any kind
of work promptly executed. Repairing done
neatly and CE eaplv. and at short notice.
REMOVAL.
Saddlery and Harness Store.
(Opposite Horse Railroad Depot in Post
Office Building.)
VIBE Subscriber has removed from his
former stand, and is now located as
above, where he will be glad to execute all
orders in hisline in the best and most satis-
factory manner. A new stock of Goods
will be on sale and special attention paid to
Repairing. STEPHEN SWANN. tf14
Salt, at S. E. OLMSTEAD & CO‘S.
Baker’s Patent Fire Banks.
"l‘HE subscribers have for sale, all sizes of
this simple and excellent inventiOn for
keeping fires, without consuming coal.- ~Just
the thing for these timesmvhcn-coal is $15
per ton. Call and see them.
H. M. & J. T. PROWITT.
in the State.—~ Manufactures Tin, Sheet, Iron .
’ snTo-N, Malsllnl, and all other kinds of
’Norwalk
INSURER ' EflMPlNY,
: “PRWAIE 991‘“.
Chartered-’Oapital "135500.000
Paid up capital $100,000
WM. 0. STREET, President.
, . GEO. R. Cownus, Secretary.
EBEN. HILL, Treasurer.
Norwalk, Jan lst. 1864 1y
Assets 9.... $23,000,000.
GE’O. R. COWLE S,
S AGENT at Norwalk, and issues Policies
for the following INSURANCE COMPANIES.
Home, of N. Y ., Assets J an. 1, ’64 $3,286,270
(
Etna, of Hartford, “ ' 3,128,820
Phoenix, of N.Y., “ “ 722,219
Home, of N. H., “ “ 500,000
N orwich, * " “ 390,501
Lamar, N;'Y;, ‘ “ “ 389,375
North American, Ht’d“ “ 384,0w
City of New Haven, “ “- 330,419
Merchants, Hartford, “ “ 301,443
Western Mass, Pittsfield, “ 236,424
Hampden, Springfield,“ “ 200,000
People’s, Worcester, “ “ 405,593
andother Companies, Stock and Mutual, in
Connecticut, Massachusetts and New York,
with asseté’ 0f $13,000,000. At So. N orwalk
applicatidn may be made to WM. T. CRAW.
SWORDS’
Elll'l'lillli llll'fllllllll !
‘NEAR THE DEPOT, -
South Norwalk, Conn.
.l‘HE subscriber has opened a Clothing
and Furnishing Goods Store in the store
formerly occupied by J. F. & C. R. Bennett,
at the crossing, close by the depot, and in-
teuds to keep on hand and for sale as good
-and cheap a stock as can be found in the town.
All kinds of
Ready Made Clothing,
(or made to order); also Cloths, Cassimeres,
Vestings, &c., Hats, Caps, Gloves, Umbrellas,
Trunks, Leather Bags. &c., &c.,—-in fact ev-
erything in the line. The patronage of the
public is most respectfully solicited.
W. H. S ORDS.
South Norwalk, December lst, 1864. 49
ROBERTSON BROTHERS,
PRACTICAL BooKmNDEns,
AND MANUFACTURERS or
PHOTOGRAPHIC ALBUMS,
Plain and Ornamental Jobbing,
No. 3 Gazette Building, Norwalk, Conn.
WMAGAZINES, MUSIC &c., done up. in
the best styles and OLD BOOKs rebound.
AUCTION SALES.
New Auction & Commission
STORE.
THE undersigned have opened the store
in James’ Block, Norwalk, lst door from
State St., for the purpose of transacting a
general
AUCTION & COMMISSION BUSINESS,
and are prepared to dispose of all kinds of
wares at liberal rates.
N. B. Second hand furniture, carpets, &c.,
specially solicited.
tf19 NASH & MOREHOUSE.
‘EDW. A. B. NORTHROP,
GUN AND 3001! SMITH,
”And Bell Ranger,
SAACS’S BUILDING, (next to Norwalk
Hall,) N orwalk, Ct. Jobbing of every de-
scription. Particular attention paid to re-
pairing Guns, Pistols, &c., Mortice, Rim,
Cabinet and Trunk Locks. Saws filed and
set. Sewing Machines, Clocks, and Pumps
repaired. Platform and Counter Scales put
in order. Skates repaired and made to or-
der, &c., doc. tf44
Hardware, Outlerly, &c.,
AT SOUTH NORWALK.
THE Subscriber would inform the public
that he has purchased of Mr. Chichester
the old established Hardware Business, at
South Norwalk, and will continue the busi-
ness at the old Stand. He intends keeping
always on hand, a large stock of Hardware,
Cutlery, Agricultural Implements, Mechan-
ics’ Tools, Fire Arms, Builders’ Hardware,
Paints, Oils, Varnish, and all other articles
usually kept in first-class Hardware Stores.
It will be his endeavor to meet the wants
of hiu customkrs, and merit the patronage of
the public.
15 WM. S. FITCH.
Notice.
’l‘HE subscriber having taken the old
Horse Shoeing Stand, at the foot
of Mill Hill, is prepared to do Horse Shoe-
ing and all kinds of job Blacksmithing, on
the most reasonable terms.
He also carries on the Carriage Business
at the old Stand occupied by his father for
the last twenty-three years.
JOHN SHEPHERD.
Norwalk, Aug. 29th, 1864.
CARRIAGE MAKING.
Horse Shoeing & Black-smithing.
LYON &. AHERN,
OULD announce to the pa lie that
they have taken the old stand of Capt
Henry Lamb, Main street, where they are
prepared to execute n the best manner and
greatest dispatch anything in the above line.
Carriages made to order. and Horse Shoe-
ing, Painting, Trimming, Repairing, &c. done
by expenenced workmen with dispatch.
Mr. WM. E. BEFRS has been engaged as
Agent and Foreman of the Wood-shop.
Acous'rus LYON, WM.AHERN.
Nor-walk,.Jan., 23d,1865. 1y37
' NOTICE.
‘HE Subscriber having purchased the
1 CLOTHING AND GENTS FUR-
NISHING EMPORIUM, of A. Koerpel, will
continue the Business in all its branches at
the old Stand N o. 3 Main Street, Not-walk.
The Public are respectfully invited to call
and examine the large and varied asort-
ment of .. .— .z:i~
Ready Made Clothing,
FRENCH CLOTHS, CASSIMERES AND
VESTINGS, which he will make up to or-
der at short notice and in the latest Fash-
ionable Syle. E. GUSOWSKI.
N o. 3 Main Street,
Norwalk, February 15th, 1865. 1y10
NOTICE.
CHEAP OIL to be used either in Fluid
and Kerosene Lamps. Call and exam-
ine the article for yourown benefit. War
ranted not explosive. W. B. SWAN.
Pitch’s Home for Soldiers.
VI‘HE Trustees are now prepared to receive
1135.
wish to avail themselves of the benefits of
theinstitution. Applications may be made to
Hon. MOBBGAN Mononus, Presid’t, Stamford,
Josarn . Hov'r Stamford .
CHARLES BROWN, Darien, , Edgr‘rli'ilt‘fge
War. A. Comes, do '
. applications from those entitled, and.
Fr-Om the Round Table.
The Matron Year.
The last poem written by George Arnold.
I. .
The leaves that made our forest pathways shady
Begin to rustle down upon the breeze ;
The year is fading, like a stately lady
Who lays aside her youthful vanities ;
Yet while the memory of her beauty lingers,
She cannot wear the livery of the old,
So autumn comes, to paint with frosty fingers
Some leaves with hues of crimson apd gold.
II.
The matron‘s voice filled all the hills and valleys
‘With full toned music, when the leaves were
young,
While now in forest dalos and garden alleys, '
A chirping, ready song at eve is sung;
Yet sometimes, too, when sunshine glide the morn-
ing.
A carol bursts from some half naked tree,
As if her slow but sure decadence seaming,
She woke againftho olden melody.
III.
With odorous May-buds, sweet as youthful plea!-
urea,
She made her beauty bright and debonafr;
But now the sad earth yields no floral treasures,
And twines no roses for the matron‘s hair
Still, can she not all lovely things surrender ?
Right regal is her drapery now—-
Gold, purple, green, inwr'ought'with every splendor
And clustering grapes in garlands On her brow !
IV.
In June she brought us tufts of fragrant clover
Rife with the wild beo’s cheery monotone,
And when the earliest bloom was past and over,
Offered us sweeter scents from fields new mown
Now upland Orchards yield, with patterlng laughter,
Their red checked bounty to the groaning wain,
And heavy~laden racks go creeping after,
Plled high with sheaves of golden bearded grain.
V.
Ere long, when all to love and life are clinging,
And festal holly shines on every wall,
Her knell shall be the New Year bells out-ringing.
The drifted snow her stainless burial pail;
She faces and falls. but proudly and sedately,
This Matron Year, who has such largess given,
Her brow still tranquil, and her presence stately,
As one who, losing earth, holds fast to Heaven 1
.4.-.
From Harper’s Magazine/‘01- December.
Our Thanksgiving.
“I don’tbelievc we shallhave a bit of fun,”
said Suseyu
“Why, ain’t we going to have a pudding?”
That was Harry all over.
“Oh, I ’spose there’ll be a pudding ’cause
Mr. Smith he sent up some raisins this mom-
ing—I peeked info the paper. But there
isn’t a single sign of a. evergreen trimmin”
put up,nor afiag. nor any thing. - And moth-
er she just looks so sober, and she hain’t
laughed all day long. Oh, I think its real
horrid.”
“I saw her cry too. She sent me after a
clean handkerchif.” .
“She did! Well, I ’spose it’s all about Will.
You know he came home last Thanksgiving.”
“Will allers laughed Thanksgivin’, Sue.
My ! didn’t he put into the nuts and raisings,
and string up the wish-bones !”
“Harry! why how you act !
you know,” .
“I can’t help it,” said Harry, apologetically
“I allers had good times with him. I wish
he wasn’t dead. Didn’t he look funny in
mother’s bonnet after dinner l"
“I wish he wasn’t dead too, Harry, but
then be is, you know, I tried to cry this
mornin’ when mother kep’ wipin’ her eyes,
but I didn’t after all. I wish she wouldn’t
look so horrid sober. You see if we have a
nice time—I know 'we shan’t.” '
‘5Well,” said Barry, after a moments con-
sideration, “there’s the turkey, any how.”
The sitting-room door closed then, and lit-
tle feet pattered up stairs on their'way to bed.
The parlor was cold, and the twilight hung
and darkened the room. Just in front of
me the frost had frescoed 'the‘ window, and.
the light of a faint, rising moon struck
through them, In one little spot the chil-
dren had dimmed away the silver tracery
by their warm breath but. a few moments
ago. Through it, in the shadow of the church
something stood out alone and still—some-
thing which had drawn me into this lonely
room, and fastened and held my eyes on the
cold cruel window--somefhing which no
close-closed curtains or warm home-light
could ever shut but; which the width .ofa
world could not. separate from me; whose
shadow fell across my very prayers, and
darkened the face of God—the grave.
This night it was so cold. The frost,
weaving and weaving their pattern on the
window, chilled it so. What did those chil-
dren mean. How merrily they were romp-
ing into bed up stairs! I wish they would
not—to-night—to-m'ght. -
The frost, weaving and weaving their pat-
tern on the window, weaved out of sight the
church shadow and that within it, Only the
glitter of the silvered picture was left, with
the moon faint behind it. I drew my shawl
over my shoulders and went into the other
room. A bright file was crackling on the
hearth ; the Curtains were drawn, red and
warm and cozy, behind the ivies; my rock-
ing-chair wasin its place, with the cricket
pushed up beside it—that was Susy. She
was always thoughtlul~more like—‘
1 lOund I was chilled through and sat down
by the fire. Then 'I covered my face with
my hands.
God knows how I dreaded this day which
was coming ; how for months I had shrank
from it, and pleaded with it to pass mr— by ;
how I had talked with it in dreams, and been
wakened by my ' tears, and prayed for
strength to live it through ; how like a
phantom it had confronted me, and dogged
my steps, and the strength had not come.—
and now it was .upon me
Our Thanksgiving had bee: no more, I
suppose, to us than any who -JVC the day ;
the tender household memories clustering
\arouud them no sweeter and no dearer than
thousands and thousands ; nor was my grief
more than other mothers grief. But what
was that to me or mine? Our loss was ir-
repairable, my grief as solitary, as if the
Will’s dead ~,
winds of the universe held no other. For
the heart knowest its own bitterness.
He loved these days so—my boy; he
loved them so. For him and because of
him they had always been so bright. And it
was only the last—fonly the last one that-he
was with us. ' Just for a few days the short,
happy furlough lasted—days that brighten
as the distance betweem me and them grows
wider and darker. I remember his face as I
met him at the door. It was only “Mother!"
and “Oh, Willie I” only a- close clasping
and along kiss. All that day I could not
see him except through thick-falling tears;
happy tears I called them; yet howl can
read the prophesy of their pain. God did
not tell me that .he would not come home to
his mother again; but I knew it——fl'om the
moment he crossed the threshold, I knew it.
And there was the day staring me in the.
face. What will you think of me, if I
say that in my children’s prattle that night
1 saw for myself no reproof; that indeed I
was almost vexed with their thoughtless joy
their merry voices stung me; I shrank away
from their little plays and laughter. It was
the silence only that I heard. He—he was
my firstborn, and I loved him. To live
through to-morrrow’s festival without him :
to fill it with old glad customs and the old
rejoicings ; to come to the table and see only
that one vacant chair. to watch the chil-
dren play about the fire,where he had played
among them; to sit and Worship and give
thanks in the church to which he had walked
with us in 'company, and from which we
had borne him to his rest; to keep eyes free
from tears and lips from quivering.
“Mary,” said a voice beside me. My hus-
band had come in from his study and was
pacing the room in his restless way.
“Well?” ‘ '
“I suppose you have been preparing for—-
tomorrow 1’”
“The children shall have their dinner
what else can I do ‘9"
“We do not want them to have a gloomy
day of it Mary.”
“I can not, can not help it.
know.”
He came up and laid his hand upon my
bowed head.
“I know, Mary, I know. I am stronger
to bear it than you, I will try to be cheer-
ful for both of us :- it will soon be over.”
That was just like him; all my burdens
were his own; all my pain doubly his. I
might have known how it wOuld be. Was
this sorrow making me forgetful of my bus-
band. Could I be that.”
“Oh, John. I am so selfish ! but you
knowI loved him so—if I could be brighter
John 1”
“I understand it all. Why, Mary 1”
He took me in his arms as I broke into
sObbing; he took me in his arms like a
child, and sitting there beside the fire we
talked a long time. I can not tell you what
he said. This our child, whom the Lord
had taken, was dear to him as to me; for
him as for me, the path we trod was very
dark. But when at last he left me we under-
stood one another, as in every trouble we
always had understood. We could bear
any thing together.
I heard him take his hat,go out of the hall
door, and close it behind him. I went to
the window which the frost was painting
thicker and thicker with its cold clear pic-
tures, and through it I saw a solitary figure
passing over the moonlit snow and into the
shadow of the church. It was as I had sup-
posed.
As I went back to the fire some sleighing
party in the street shot by, singing a merry
Thanksgiving song. I expect only those
who mourn to understand how I listened to
it. It was a little thing to hurt me ; but it
did. Thanksgiving ! I could have laughed
at the word. Should I give thanks? For
this desolated fireside for that vacant chair
and silent voice, for the vanished smile and
touch and household blessing for these few
dimmed letters and the heart-ache of that
lockof clinging hair, and the grave beneath
the early snows—should I give thanks for
these.
So many memories crowded into the
work: so many pictures came and went, as
I sat there alone in the fire-light. The boy
sitting just here at my feet—he was the only
one then—cracking his nuts, and stealing
the raisins from my pocket after dinner,
looking up into my eyes with the pretty mis-
chief bright in his, so great and dark and full;
no one ever had eyes like Willie’s. He was
such a pretty baby, and so dear; you see, he
taught me the word mother ; it was his lit‘
tle upturned face, and the touch of his tiny
fingers, in which I first read the beauty of
its holiness. How could Ihelp it that he
was what he was to me? What should I do
with all this love that had grown into my
heart for one-aud-twenty years?
Another picture. How the years went
and came ! He was the only one no longer;
but in the group of happy faces his always
stood alone to me. It was he who stilled
the little ones at their quarrels or when the
plays grew rough ; it was he who made the
beautiful Thanksgiving days so bright to
them; it was he who watched my steps
about the room and drew my chair up to the
fire, and followed me with his little smile—
such a beautiful smile it always was! Why,
somehow all the festival days are lighted
with it far down the faint and fading years
I see it. When the school-boy, affecting all
the little importances of the Bucolies and the
first Xenophon lesson, was not ashamed to
come out in the kitchen and stone the resins.
15sec it at the merry dinner-table, and the
twinkle in his eye, and the laugh, and the
jest, his face all aglow with delight. I think
it was a beautiful face.
I see the smile again—older and more
manly, but with the same child’s tenderness
in it; even the moustache of the young col-
legian could not hide it. How we laughed
at him about that moustache! He knew
how proud Iwas of him all the while ; how
could I help it? Those college vacations
are so many sunny days, they were so brief
and bright. I remember how we watched
for him at the door; how the old coach
came lumbering up—it passed the house just
now as I write. I suppose I always hear it.
I suppose I never hear it without a quicken-
ing of my pulse. I suppose I never shall.
I see himbounding up the steps. I feel his
arms about me. I see the children pulling
at his sleeve. I see his face—why will God
give us such faces to be our own, and snatch
them away into darkness ? Yet I would not
now, I w0uld not even then, that night, with
the murming words upon my lips. lose the
sweet memory for ten thousand times its
pain. '
Once more I see the smile; but it is the
smile of a martyr. He knew when he came
to me, with all the hero in his eyes, fired
with his pure bright dreams of sacrifice, lov-
ing his country as only her young men can
—when he came, as lfhe were again a child,
and asked his mother’s blessing—he knew
to what he was a going. So, I think did 1.
Yet I did not say him nay. I did not hold
him back with my weak tears and pleadings.
I thank God for that. I thanked Him 'on
J ohu, you
{that desolate Thanksgiving-eve. And when
I go down the sloping years to meet my old
age without my boy, I shallthank Him still.
I am very sure of that.
But you do not care to. bear the rest of my
story. It is yours, perhaps, as well as mine;
and of its sacredness, you and I know Well.
I was not there to see him die. I can nev-
er go back and be there to help him die.
There was one woman—you have heard of
her, perhaps—she found him a stranger, car-
ed for by strange hands; and when they
bore him to his quick-made grave on the bat-
tle-field, she stooped to touch his face with
reverent lips, and said, “Let me kiss him for
his mother.” God bless her for that! God
bless her wherever she may be! and may
the never lay her first-born away under the
frozen ground, where he can never call to
her, or take her in his arms, or kiss her with
his warm young lips.
But we have brought him home since that
and in the shadow of the old familiar church
he is at rest. AsI sat before the fire, through
all my bitter musing that night, I remember-
ed the solitary figure pacing round and
round the moonlit grave-his father loved
him so. I do not say that even I, his moth-
er, loved him more.
Did I ask for strength to live through this
day which was coming—to live it quietly,
healthfully, thankfully, remembering that
mine was not a thorn-wreath, since “no mor-
tal grief deserves that crown f” I do not
know. Do we never pray for that which
we will not hare? Our Father, who is very
patient with us, alone knows.
And then these facts of sorrow are so
sharp. It was one thing to give him up—a
grand, heroic thing; it was another to find.
him gone-—
“To feel the door-latch stir and clink,
And know ’tis no more lie—nor sink.”
Do you know this “surprise when one site
quite alone ?” But, with my prayers or
without them, the morning came. It came
as other Thanksgiving days had come—with
fresh, frolicking winds, and sunlight, and
blue skies ; with merry voices, with cloud-
less faces, and happy hearts.
The children woke me with the old rap
on my door-Susie and Harry and Bertie, and
May hiding shyly in the entry lest papa should
have a peep at her night-cap, half doubt-
ing, indeed, whether she was not getting to
be too much of a. woman to take part in the
children’s sport. How merry Willie always
was at it! his little rap always the loudest,
and his laugh the clearest of all. I could not
help it, and turned away to hide the quick,
hot tears.
“Momma, don’t talk,” cried Bertie, through
the keyhole. “I guess she hasn’t woke ~up
——Mamma !"
“Come away,” said May, in a whisper——
“mother feels badly to have Thanksgiving
come, you know. Perhaps she isn’t well—
let’s go and dress.” _
And before I found my voice the little bare
feet had pattered away over the entry, and
it was too late to call them back.
I rememember just how yellow and mur-
ky the sunshine lay on the floors that morn-
ing, and how I thought the wind walled
about the corner of the house—to me it had
no frolic. The children came in from coast-
ing while I was at work, all flushed, and ea-
ger, and happy, jostling and pushing each
other at play in the entry. The moment
they saw my face Susy grew sober, and May
began to hush Harry's laughter. How could
I help it ?
“Where’s the evergreen trimmings ?” ask-
ed Bertie, looking round the room with dis-
appointed eves. “There’s a lot picked up
garret, mother.”
Ah, that pretty'celebratiou of the day ! I
had never planned for it. It was Willie’s
fancy, and Willie’s skillful fingers they were
which had always made the old rooms bright
and festive. How I cling to the baby-name!
Yet he never minded it from me; some-
times, from a quick manly look in his eyes, I
used to think he liked to have me call him
so“May ! May? fix the trimmings,” I said,
turning away. “I—I am too busy this morn-
ing.”
“It isn’t like having you,” said May, hcr
bright face falling, and then the children
with puzzled eyes crept one by one away.
Dinner-time came at last, and they gath-
ered round the table gleefully—just as glee-
fully, I thought, with a half bitterness, as if
they had all been there.
“Why! what’s this for ?”_ asked Harry,
stopping. “Mother, you’ve got one chair too
many.”
“Hush, Harry! I know—don’t you see ‘2”
And then I heard Susy whispering to him.
Why had I done it? I hardly knew. To
lay the plates, and set the chairs. and pass
that one place by—that place that always
was by mine-it seemed hard. It was a very
little thing; but you know how dear these
little things become to women sometimes.
Sol had put it ’there—the empty chair;
and with its pitiful, appealing blankness be-
side me, I sat dovl n to the festival meal. I
remember just how every thing looked, as
in a picture—my husband’s face, with its
white; peaceful smile, the same that he had
given to his boy, and the children grouped
around in the old places ; and a fleck of ye!-
low sunlight that had fallen in through the
warm south window upon the table-cloth.
I remember everything. I know that John
had just bowed his head to ask God’s bless-
ing on our food, and the children’s eyes were
closed, when I saw—I saw as distinctly as I
see this paper upon which I write the words
--a shadow fall across the empty chair.
I turned my head, and I saw him—my boy
Willie, I know it was Willie. You need
not doubt me. for I tell you what can not
be mistaken. Should not I know him, I his
mother? I looked deep, deep into his eyes.
I saw the old rare smile ; I touched his own
bright curls upon his forehead ; I spoke to
him; he spoke to me.
“Willie !”
“Mother l”.
The voice was breathless, but it was his.
“Willie! Willie 1”
Again the old, rare smile. With one hand
he motioned silence. His father’s face hush-
ed the Amen, and the children looked up
and began their chatter.
“Did you speak to me, Mary ?” asked my
husband.
“No."
“Why, I thought some one spoke during
the blessing. Well, Miss? May, which part
of the turkey shall I help you to ‘3”
So they did not see him. I alone was cho-
sen. I lookcd into his face, smiling, smiling
down into mine so tenderly—you can not
know how tenderly ; but in his eyes I saw—
and I thought my heart would break to see
it—a certain sad, reproachful look, that I had
caught on his face once, years ago, when I
accused him with some trifling, childish fault
—a look that had haunted me in many a
still hour since. And then I heard him say
distinctly, though to not another car was the
breathless voice audible :
“I want them to be happy. I want you
to enjoy the day. Did you think I should
not be with you, mother ‘3”
He was with me, thank God ! and I was
happy. I talked, I laughed, I chatted with
the children ; their merriment increased
with mine; my husband’s face lighted up ; I
felt my own eyes sparkling. And all the
while, where they saw the empty chair, I
saw the beautiful still face and happy smile.
I saw him pleased with the old familiar cus-
toms. I saw him mindful of the children’s
jests. I saw his eyes, full of their own home-
love, turn from one to another, and back again
to me. I saw and I was content. All that day
he was beside me. He followed us into the sit-
ting-room and took his old seat by the cozy
fire. He listened to his father’s stories, and
watched the children at their games, and
joined us when we gathered round.the piano
for our twilight song. I heard his voice;
the children asked what made me sing so
clearly.
Just as the shades began to fall heavily he
drew me toward him by the frost-bound
window. I know he stooped and kissed me.
I knew he took me in his arms, and said, as
he had said before ,
“Did you think I should not be with you,
mother ‘2”
And then I missed him. I called to him,
but he did not answer. 1 stretched out my
arms after him, but he did not come back to
me. The room grew dark ; my head swam;
I tottcred over to my husband.
“0b, John! I have lost hiln!
John !”
“Mary—why Mary ! what is the matter ?”
and he caught me in his arms.
I looked up. I was not in the parlor by
the frost- bound window ; the children were
not beside me. The sitting-room fire had
died down into the ashes ; the door into the
hall was open, and my husband had on his
overcoat. He was holding me tightly in his
arms.
“How you shiver, Mary !
ling, ,what has happened !"
“John, where—when'did you find me ‘3”
“I have just come in. I heard you cry ;
you called my name I think.”
“I know, I know ! I thought—Oh, John!
John !”
And then I told him all my dream. When
I had finished, he was still a long time,
then— ~
“Mary, perhaps the boy has been to you.”
At this moment the clock on the mantle
struck twelve. We listened to its strokes till
the last one died away.
“It is our Thanksgiving morning,” said
my husband, sclemnly. “Let us give thanks
to Goc .”
So we knelt down and prayed together.
Oh, John!
Why my dar-
_ When the morning really came, with its
fresh, frolicking winds, and sunlight, and
blue skies; with its merry faces, and gay
voices, and the happy children rapping at my
door, I thought of what he said: “Perhaps
the boy has been to you.” “Sometimes I
think he must have been, so real and sweet
is, even now, the memory of his coming.
All that day he stood beside me ; all that
day I saw his peaceful face, and feltthe blcs-
sing of his smile, and heard his low, sweet
voice. What for monthsl hadlooked upon
and feared with the bitterness ofa great dread,
the face, and smile, and voice made almost
painless.
The children’s merry greetings, did not
hurt me; my fingers did not tremble when
they twincd the fresh green leaves about the
walls. Into the very making of my pudding
I threw my heart, and the day became once
more a festival ; just as truly a festival, I
think, as it was when Willie blessed it and
made it bright, because I knew he wished to
have it so.
The older children went with us to church
in the morning. Harry and Susie, finding
the turkies rather an impediment to rcligous
edification, kept guard af.home. Susy’s lit-
whisper at starting did me good I think
.“Mamma, you’re just like the Old momma
you—you used to was.”
God knows I tried to be.
The little church was very still and pleas
ant that morning, and somehow the service
stole way down into my heart. It was no
eloquent preaclie we heard; only a plain
man, with God’s plaincst gift of lnind and
culture. Many a time I slioulc have prefer-
red my own worship to any to which he
could help me. But this morning his heart
was very full. Isaw that the any was real
to him, and I listened.
A bit of Mrs. Brownings music kept sing-
ing itselfin my soul :
.‘I praise Thee while my days go on,
I love Thee while my days go on ;
Through dark and dearth. through firc and frost,
With emptied arms and treasure lost,
Igthank Thee while my days go on.”
I think that I thanked Him—I, who only
last year had sat there with my boy beside
me—so manly and so brave he looked,so
pleased that lhcy chose the hymn he loved,
so happy and at rest while he sang it with
them.
I think that when the dear familiar word
flooded the church with harmony again, as
on that other morning, and John and I
clasped hands silently—I think we uttered
the old, old cry, “Blessed be the name of the
Lord !" .
We stopped after church together where
the boy was lying, to let May lay down her
little green wreath, and I was glad that she
could do it calmly. Somehow I felt as if
tears would be profanation just then. Then
we went quietly home.
It was a happy home that day—~as happy
as it could be when we did not see hz‘m—.
Yet I knew he was there.
“Did you think I should not be will) you,
mother?”
I heard it over and over; I hear it over
and over now; I shall bear it when the next
Thanksgiving sun brightens his quiet grave.
He wished us to be happy ; I knew he was
with us. I think he will always be.
.<.-.
—He whogreedily seeks honors and riches
may be compared to a man suffering from
thirst which he tries to quench with the wa-
ter of the sea. The more he drinks. the
more he wants to drink, until at last he dies
of drinking it. ' -
m grimly. .l- Jaws.“
A Perilous Adventure.
Only some twenty miles from Milford
was the pleasant sea-side resort called Ten-
by, little known in my day, but now a fash-
ionable bathing-place. It was a small tOWn'
of poor houses, built on a projecting-point of
land, with a fine hard sand-beach on each
side, giving the bathers the choice of the
north or south sands. Curiously shaped
rocks form the coast, and one large cave
which is filled with water at high tide, but
remains empty many hours in theday, was
once the scene ofgreat-alarm to a governess
and three little girls who were caught in it
by the tide. ' She; who should have seen to
the safety of her charge, was so absorbed by
an agreeable book that she did not observe
the rising tide, till the possibility of retreat
was cut off by it. To pass away the time she
told-them stories; but they grew very wea‘
ry, and when the bottom of the cave was full
of water, and the waves began to dish up-
on the rocks beneath their feet, they were
much terrified, and it was all the governess
could do to comfort them and assuage their
fears, whilst her own courage: was ebbing
fast; at last the youngest child fell asleep in
her arms, and the other two nestled close to
her on either side. There was no higher
ledge of rock on which they could sit, and
she feared theyvyould fall into the flood be-
low if she attempted to make them stand on
the rock they were sitting on. As soon as
the arched entrance into the cave was cover-
ed by the advancing tide, they were in per-
fect darkness, and that added much to the
fearfulness of their position. At last the
children cried out, in distressing tones that
their feet were wet, and the water was com-
ing all over them. To which the governess
replied, “mine have been wet for some time-
but never mind that ; Idon‘t think it will
come higher than our knees." It was only
after some mental exercise and earnest pray-
er that she was able to say this. Her words
proved true; The tide did rise to‘her lap,
and swelled up against them and all around
them fearfully; but in a few more minutes
its force seemed less, and presently they
could be certain that it began to lower. Re-
lieved from their terror, thctwo older chil-
dren fell asleep, and then the governess was
very anxious lest they should fall from their
narrow perch and be drowned after all.Very
long did thetimc scem before the tide re-
treated fnr enough for a little light to enter
at the top of the entrance to the cave ; but
it length that light came, and not long after
was heard the welcome sound of voices, and
as soon as a boat could enter, one came to
their relief, with the father of the children
in if. He found his little girls refreshed by
their nap. And as lively and full of prattle
as if no trouble had come near them; but
their unhappy governess was utterly over-
come. She could do nothing but weep, and
afterwards fell into melancholy and died in<
sane—film. Farrar’s Recollections.
.49...
@“Burlcigh” the nom dc plume under
which Rev. Matthew Hale Smith writes to
the Boston Journal, tells of a remarkable
robbery in New York. He says: “ The
broker was inside the counter, near the safe.
A man came in without a hat, and with a
pen behind his car. He walked round to
the spot where the banker stood, who was
talking with a gentleman, and said to him
‘PlcaSe to move, sir,‘ and the banker did,
The fellow coolly took out of the safe sev—.
eral thousand United States bonds, and
coolly walked awuy,and has never been seen
iromtliat time to this. Near the closing
hours of business the bonds were sought for
and could not be fbund. The banker turned
to one of‘the clerks and asked him for them
stating that he sawhim remove them from,
the draWCr. Fortunately the clerk was able
to woman a.libi,and then the audacity of. the
thief was made apparent."
"”“‘-h'*- <40». ..
WHOM-n Bunnckcr was a colored as-
tronomerofsome considerable note in the
early days of the Republic. His color plac-
ed no obstacle, in the way of his real merit
asagenius, being recognized even by the
fathers ofthc country. Itwas to this dis-
tinguished negro Thomas Jefferson wrote
the following : .
“Nobody wishes more than I do to see
such proofs as you exhibit, that nature 'has
given to our black brethren talents equal to
those Ofthe other colors of men, and that
the appearance of‘a'want of them is owing
only to the degraded condition of their exist-
cucc both in Africa and America. I can add
wnh truth, that no one wishes more. ardent?
lyto see a good system commenced for rais-
ing the condition both of their body and
pnnd to what it ought to be, as fast as the I
nnbccxllty of'lhcir present existence, and oth-
er_c1rcumstanccs which cannot be neglected
Will admit—S. 6'. Leader. ’
-‘.-.
RussmN RAILROAD Cans—The Nerd
contains adescription of the railway carri-
ages now running on the Moscow and St.
Petersburg line. It appears that for the
trifling addition of two roubles to the usual
fare travelers are received in brilliantly
lighted saloousjaround which luxurious sofas
and arm chairs invite the weary to repose
while reviewing the latest periodicals and
newest novels, which are scattered on the
tables. When the hour of retiring arrives
the valet (1c chambre conducts the gentlemen
passengers to their sleeping apartmentawhile
smart chambermaids point out to the lady
travellers theirbedrooms and boudoirs, fit-
ted up, as the advertisement says, “with ev-
ery model-l: luxury, including baths,” &C.—-
The smoking room has perfect contrivances
for vminlation and the thorough enjoyment
of the sugar, pipe, or hookah.
v<.>o.———_—_
A new use for confederate money has
been found. A lady in Texas stuffed a mat-
tress with $500,000.
A gentleman inquired the price of a
handsome chamber set, in a furniture store in
Boston, the other day, and found it to be
double the sum paid by Dr. Lyman Beecher
for his house and farm of seven acres l
Scarlet Water-proof cloaks are the
mode in England now. The are made with -
sleeves and hoods. ,
The skull of “Ben Jonson” has been ‘
stolen from the coffin by some one who holds
it as a “rare” prize.
The island of Sicily has thus far been
spared of thccholera, and it is attributed to
the very stringent quarantine regulations
established since the first appearance of the
scourgeln Egypt. Neither vessels nor steam-
ers coming from any infected ports, are al-
lowed to communicate with the shore. If
needed, provisions and coal are sent alon -
side the vessel. and the lighter aiterwar s
[S sunk, and has to remain under water
twenty~four hours, before allowed to return
into theharbor.
-<.p-.
WA Pennsylvania seven year old was
rcprovedlately for playing' out door, with
the boys:she was too ‘big for that now.’
But with all imaginable innocence she re-
plied : “Why, grandma, the bigger we grow
the better we like "em. Grandma took time
to think.
Norwalk Chronicler