"replied Captain Holmes.
‘ foo/am;
WHOLE NUMBER- 1461..
THE STORM OF THE DESERT."
BY REV. E. A. RAND. ' -
Bow low! bow low! the stormis here!
'It sweeps the desert waste;
A blinding whirl of fiery sand,
A furnace-blast; Make haste!
The tallpalms bend like river reeds ;
The tents missllaped lie;
And faster come the firy gusts.
Bow low! bow low, or die!
With faces bowed, in eager haste,
Each falls before the storm; .
The burning clouds of death speeds on,
But harms no prostrate fornr.
0 troubled hearts, in trial, pain.
The storm is‘sweeping by;
There is no human help for you,
No tent of refuge nigh.
“ Bow low! bow low ! ” the Saviour cries,
“ And touchMy feet in prayer;
For every trusting soul tllat seeks,
Shall find a refuge there.”
For thc Noru'alk Gazette.
in. Little Boat Sail,
——- A N D —-
WHAT CADIE OF IT.
BY ROBERT ClTTiVATJElI,
cnaeraa II. ~
The vessel upon which our young friends
were received ill their dire necessity was the '
Pctrel, Captain Holmes, a barque from-New.-
London, bound for the Pacific. Being em-“
ployed in the whaling service, which has in:
deed greatly declined from its former pros-
perity; but continues to attract some ships,
she wasnow starting out on along cruise into
the Pacific and Arctic oceans after whales.
The reader should here be toldthatEugene"
and Constance, during those hours of agony
and suspense when they were in the skiff, de-
cided that, if rescued, they should assume to
be brother and sister. It was a suggestion of
Hazlitt’s to which the young lady, after some
delnurl‘ing, consented. ’
“ We shall avoid impertincnce,” said
Eugene, “for if we do not take this course,
we shall' Certainly be talked about, and on
ship-board impertincr‘lt gossip is far more try—
ing than onland, where you- may get in a
measure out of its range.”
'“ That seems quite true," answered Con-
stance, “and it can hardly be wicked, to call
ourselves in this way, for in many religious
sects the members ‘brother and sister’ each
other quite frequently, I believe. So it Ought
to be rigllt enough, and you think it is expe-
dient ?” ’ -
“I do, decidedly,” returned Hazlitt, “and
it is not all a fiction, for you know them real-
ly exists the race-relationship, though I sup-
pose We both would have to confess that our
personal recollections of Father Adam are' on
the whole somewhat vague.”
So in part sportively and partly seriously,
Miss Rightmcyer was brought to.look upon
this as in fact a necessary arrangement, and
therefore it was given out to their rescuers on
the Petrel that they were a brother and sister
whose little rowing trip had come so nearly
to a fatal termination. '
To go on now itlr our narrative, it was sev-
eral days before Mr. Hazlitt and his quasi sis-
ter were sufficiently recovered from the expo-
sures and the nervous strain to which they
had been; subjected to admit of their making
their appearance on deck. When at length
they came forth from their quarters below,
they folmdithamsel—ves in-mid-ocean', already-
in the'warrn‘llititudes, with scarcely ‘a possi-
bility of meeting a ship or steamer making
for New York, to which they might be trans-
ferred.
Again they were called upon to reconcile
themselves to the inevitable, and' again their
situation had its modifying circumstances.
.‘aptain Holmes had his wife with him whom
he intended to leave in Honolulu, to reside
there while he took his ship into the Arctic,
which had always been quite a common pin-:2-
tice among the Whalers. MrsfiHolmes, who
was a sprightly, pretty young -]ady from
Stonington, congratulated herself on having
an agreeable companion in Constance, and
supplied her from her own wardrobe with {in
necessary attire. They became excellent
friends at once, and spent their days in each
other’s society, sitting on deck under the
awning which was stretched over their heads
to protect them from the sun, sewing and
chatting delightfully together. . ‘
“Who would have thought, sister,” said
EugeneHazlitt, coming up to them on one of
these occasions, “that when we stepped into
the skiff that pleasant evening for a little
boat sail, we were starting on a voyage nearly
around the world.” ’ .
“Yes, how strange it all seems, but I am
continually thinking how much- worse it
might have been,” repliedCdnstance in her
gentle way. “It might have been a ship
with no woman aboard, but here is dear Mrs.
Holmes to keep me in countenance; It might
have becen a ship bound for the sickly coast
of Africa, where we should both certainly
have taken the fever and died; it might have
been a horrible pirate ship, such as we read
about in novels; it might have been—”
“No ship'at all,” interrupted her fbrother’
Eugene. .
“Yes,” replicd‘Constance with a shudder,
“ we did indeed have a narrow escape from a
dreadful death. .I can never love the sea;
some have a great passion for it, but for my
part I look upon it as cruel and remorseless.”
“Not at all, not at all,” said Captain
Holmes, joining the party, “the sea is a good
friend. It is full of rollicking humor, but its
play 'is. that of 'a giant, sometimes a little
rough—a leettlc too rough for our weak stom-
achs, ell? Hazlitt, "isn’t that so?” he asked
with a chuckle and a nod to that gentleman,
who had been quite seasick. “It requires
familiarity to make you love old Neptune,”
he continued, “ This voyage will change your
feeling, Miss Hazlitt, and your brother’s too.
Before we get through with it he will be beg-
gingme to take him along up to the Arctic
and we shall find you ready to tie up for life
to one of our stoutdle'artcd sailor lads.”
“Well, after what our boat‘sail has already.
brought about, I can not be sure beforehand
bllt that the most improbable things will hap—
pen,” she returned. _
“ That’s it, you’ll come to it in due time,”
“And we have
some fine chaps roaming the waters, too,” he
continued, “not quite so trim and priggislr as
beaux on shore—110 personality intended, Mr.
Hazlitt—but ourkea‘hcroes are staunch, they
are sound as the ships that carry them, true
' as the compass that guides them," striking a
mock-heroic attitude with a merry twinkle in
his eye. “ Eh? Mrs. Holmes," he added,
looking good naturcdly at his wife.
“-NOW, Frank, I see plainly you are fishing
4 fora compliment,” answercdhis wife, “and
it would not become me to deny your asser.
tion, but some ships that sail, You know, 100k
sound, ‘while in fact their timbers are all
gone, and atimc. arrives when they go out of
port and never come back. The compass,
too, you must cmfcss, will vary, and on that
account is not always a true guide. Your
comparisons will hardly hold.”
“Yes they do,” Persisted her husband,
“for your objections relate only to rare ex-
ceptions, and we~must take the world as it is.
There is no absolute perfection in it any way n
“Well, with that allowance-I will not dis-
pate you,” returned Mrs. Holmes, “but yOu
would not wish-3pm to go into raptures about
lants at sea, for who knows but
the 01mg 3'81 .
{maven would be‘getti‘ng jealous? There is,
Mr. . Blake,‘our mate’ for instance; he is a ,
man for any one to admire. But what
Frank wishes, Miss Hazlitt, is ’to have me
say that just about two years ago, I found
one lroblc, honest sailor whom I was willing
to splice to.” ,
They were beginning their third year of
married life. ' ',
“Tllcrc,'tha’t’s the right kind of talk, that
smacks of salt water,” replied the skipper,
laughing. “If she says that and sticks to it,
she may admire and praise Blake or any
other sea hero to her heart's 'eontent,‘ I shall
not care the price of a tal'paulin. Blake is a
magnificent fellow any way, and you will be
both glad tosee him if he ever gets well. He
has been very near Davy’s locker, but I think
is on the mend now. Tyfphoid is a terrible
enerrly.” ’ j. . -
From that time a good deal was 'Said about
.Mr. Blake, and often-inquite extravagant
terms. Time passed oniand he made his ap-
pearance amongst them. It was evident at
once to Eugene and his .‘sister’ that he was no
ordinary man. To afilre physique he added
an open-hearted, gene , s bearing, and in the
many little ways in which character shows
itself, gave proof bf blitzing a strong. and no-
ble nature. His was riot that smoothness of
manner which pleiilses while it allows a secret
distrust of sincerity, which aiming at popu-
larity hides behinda sweet smile a. selfish and
‘unfccliug 'heart. He liad the bearing of a
true gentleman and tllc,attractiveness of that
magnetic power. which M'llls by a subtle influ-
ence peculiarly its own. A splendid searrran,
he knew how to command; devoid of van-
ity he'knew how to defer to his superior.
Mrs. Holmes .llad poken justly when she
said he wasaman__ be admired: her hus-
band declared empl tically he was the best
‘ofiicer he ever saied with, and predicted
that 1‘ would yet aka a great name for.
himself in the work _
If I were engag‘e 'now upon an elaborate
novel,;i_t would be he right thing to intro-
duce here a series of the most marvellous ad-
ventures, shipwreck and disasters, for there
is nothing tOO strang alld startling to happen
on the sea. But to ell the truth our friends
had a very ordinary . rt of voyage, varied of
course‘ as sea life varies with the changes of
winds and latitudes hilt without any frightful
storms. Bright, . blieez‘y days passed over
them and nights ofoine able splendor, the
moon lighting up in . wi \d way the cloud
rack through which ,she assed and flooding
the gently rolling ate with her silvery
glory. The cxllilara ing cnjoymcnts of the
wild free life of the pee were shared by
them all. As the 11 in [hip ploughed her
.way through the gle lnilig waters, sliding
down the crests of tll waves under a strong
and steady breeze, as the long twilights the
last enrbcrs of the day: fires flashed faintly
in the western sky, and the sea began to glow
with its phosphorescent brilliancy, Constance
and'Eugene ‘with their ship friends would
walk the docks in aisicial way, or sit on the
guards and talk over tle exciting stories of
ocean life, which sailo‘ are so full of, and
which fit so well into sell“ occasions and the
moods they bring.
It was a long voyag'c‘
tropics, they passed on nto the far southern
waters, they ploughed leir way through that.
mighty ocean wildernc which lies beyond
Cape Horn. Winter re, it was summer
there, and almost unbr en daylight marked
their proximity to the lanlatitudc.. They
sailed on into the vast cific with its multi-
tudinous bird life and» .yiflg fink, they saw
the Albatross and thong 'of Coleridge’s “An-
cient Mariner,” they sig ted Juan Fernandez,
'and thought of Defoe’s'i'iniznitable romance,
,andJat length they came up.._once .morejnto
'yrm, tropical seas witl soft winds, golden
ays and nights of deliei us beauty.
Days, weeks, months;3 are away while they
kept sailing. As a-matt of course all be-
came mutually well acrk inted. Mr. . Blake
won Li's way more and'inore into the hearts,
of Constance and her ibrothcr,"who were
called. by the rest “curt ssengers.” Eugene
soon saw that Constanc egarded Blake with
decided interest, and it .1 as evident that. the
Whole ardor of the young sailor’s nature went
'out in love to her A; Eugene and Con-
stance were accepted as brother and sister,
the way was‘cntircly clear to Harry Blake He
even took Eugene into. his confidence, and
one day while. walking tile deck with locked
arm in arm, confessed li’s love for 'Eugene’s
‘sister’ and sought his irltirost in his suit. It
was a hard trial for Hazlitt, but he had
watched the progress of afairs' very closely ,
and saw that Constance hal certainly formed
a deep attachment for his rival. She had not
turned herself away from himself with any
repulsion; she was even tinderer than ever
in all her ways find words, opt she seemed to
take the sisterly view of 2, e- question, and
for this Hazlitt felt that he had only himself
to blame.
The light seemed to go ort of his life when
he thought that he must. give her up. He
could not blame Blake ill could not blame
Miss Rightmeyer. Hi ind. never actually
made to her a declaration of love, and how
could he be sure that she 3nd understood him
or had fully'reciprocated' lis feeling? Then
he put himself in comparison with Blake,
and his natural modesty li ii him to, acknowl-
edge that the advantage was against him.
They were different in their? temperaments
and characteristics, and his lival had those
qualities which with most ,w men carry. the
day. It is true that he.wasi ‘good basiness,
,thefj'uirior partner'in, a str¥g New York
house, ‘whilc this hero of in deep Was only
a mate on a. whaling ship,bat Iiss Rightmcy-
er was possessed of corisizle ble means in
her own right and her father .was wealthy.
Harry Blake, tee, anybody Efilfld see, had
come of good stock, and if i lived would
rise to a high place yet in tie world’s active
service; make a figure, no doubt, on a‘WJ'dér‘
field of action when occasion should‘op'e‘lf‘tllé'
way. ‘ ' i - '
So Hazlitt kept .his civil; heart down
with a strong will. He celllilihave told this
chivalr-Ous man that he and. Constance were
not related; that an attachment had already
been formed between them, ind by these rep-
resentations lead him to abanlon his edit at
its present stage;‘- but he judged'that Con-
stance’s affections were all-clay too- deeply
enlisted and he had too much true chivalry
himself, and too much real love fOr her, to
say one word which Would put a barrier
against the happiness of his tnvci friends.
So Constance and Harry Bhke .became en-
gaged. - . .
Her .‘brothcr withdrew ache and more
within himself. Yet he wasalways polite
and kind, and showed 'a tenderer thoughtful-
ness thanever for the welfarebf his friends.
His goodness won the heart '0? young Blake
who wasof a very sensitive lature himself,
and of too delicate perception? for IIazlitt’s
manner to escape his notice: He spoke.
several times to Constance 0‘ how good a
‘brother, she had, but. expressed the fear that
there was some secret trouble-Eveighing upon
his mind. She acknowledged Eugene’s ex-
- cellence with equal ardor, butlnew not what
to say about the other suggestim of her lover.
'Vthn she thought of it more‘ :arnestlv she
had a' slight tinge of feelinggtlia‘ iperhaps she
was not doing quite right in, tilt; course she
was taking. ' ' . ‘- .,
At length their long voyage. ill-cw near its
end. Honolulu would soon be, reached, and
they began to talk over what plans it would
be bestto follow out when‘ they arril’ed at
the islands. v Harry had concluded to rebign
his place, which he could do by procuring a
substitute, an easy thing in a large port 1 e
‘Honolulu. He also strenuously claimed ' 'e
privilege of leading his bride to the 211 r
in the Hawaiian capital, and this prob; a1
suited the somewhat romantic mind of- '-
They crossed both *
" NORWALK,CONNECT~ICIIT, TUESDAY, JANUARY 111876.
youthful Constance. At that metropolis of
the South Seas they would be within the lim-
its of Polynesia, and it appeared to them to
,fit in'well with the whole adventure arising
from the little boat sail, for the wedding to
take place in so remote a quarter of the globe
.——tllc land of the bread fruit and the palm.
So it was arranged that as soon as possible
after their arrival, amcssage to Constancc’s
father should be sent over to San Francisco
to be telegraphed from there to New York ill
order that he might grace the happy occasion
with his presence. And for themselves they
proposed that dlrring the five or six weeks
which would be required for this to be done
alrd'for him to reach the Sandwich Islands,
they would,after resting from the fatigues of
their long ocean voyage, visit , the various
points of especial interest on-tllese beautiful
shores. '
i [1 ’o be continued]
‘ Hill Hill a Wife. ,'
TRANSLATED FROM THE PLATT-DEUTSCH 0F
FRITZ BEBTER, BY M. S.
After the marriage ’Itis too late.
Before the wedding tame your mate.
Meantime I had become an old bachelor.
I had wandered about the world hither alrd
thither, had often laid my head on a soft'
pillow and often on a bundle of straw; but as
I grew older the straw didn’t suit me so well
as at twenty, for one 'wllo is glad to eat
turnips in childhood dosen’t exactly despise
roast goose in after years. People said “Get
married,” and I said, “Consider,” and cir-.
cled around the holy estate of matrimony.
like a fox round a goose-pen, thinking, “You
can doubtless get in; you can easily get in!
But when you’re once' there, can you get out
again?” Blrt then when I thought of the
inmkccpcr’s eternal roast pork, and mutton,
and that my room looked like the world be-
fore the first day of creation, and that one
of myconfounded old buttons was always
coming off, I said “Get married,” and then
the stupid people said, “Consider.” So I
still remained between the tree and the' bark,
the years of consideration passed by, and my
head was beginning to grow grey, when one
day I stood by the stove, after lighting my
pipe, and gazed atthc. weather.
The snow fell gently from the sky; every-
thing outside was 'silent, no carriage-wheels
were to be heard, only in the distance the
ringing cf sleigh-bells; and I felt so lonely,
for it was the hallowed Christmas-eve. As I
stood gazing absently through the panes,
my shoemaker Linsen '. stopped before his
door with a sled full of Wood he had gather-
ed in the city forest; and on the top of the
sled lay a green fir-tree. .“Now just see that
rascal! ” said I. “He ought to be making
me that other pair of boots, and instead of
that he’s gathering wood! I won’t let. the
fellow work for me any longer.” .
I was standing there, when suddenly a
and I said to ,myself, “Of course! A cold,
abad cold! And why not? My boots are
worn out, and Frau Butoun darns her own
stockings with the yarn I gave her, while
mine have no feet. It’s all perfectly natural.
I still stoodin the same place till it grew
dark,.an(l when I wanted to‘ light a lamp
could find no match, and when I did» find.
one the lamp wouldn’t bum,-—Frau ,Butoun‘
hadn’t trimmed the wick;_and when after a
great deal of trouble I' made it burn freely it
suddenly went out,eFrau Bntoun had put
in no oil. Under such circumstances, it’s a
fine thing to have somebody at hand to scold;
but I had no orie there, and what was I to
do ?' I looked out of the window again.”
The shoemaker’s over the way wam bright-
ly lighted, and there was a rapid moving to
and fro accompanied by merry shouts; but
I could distinguish nothing, for the curtains
were tightly drawn. “Now just see that
shoemaker! ” said I. “ He actually has, cur-
tains! ” I had no -‘curtahrs,—Frau Butouu
didn’t understand them; she once put some
up for me which looked like. “nothing on
the earth or under the earth,” and l tore
them down when somebody asked me if I
had children’s shirts drying at my window.
Of course I felt provoked with the shoe-
maker; thé fellowhadn’t made my boots and
wanted to live like 3. lord, while I sat in the
dark without curtains and a cold coming on
I started up and went down into the street.
thinking, “Just wait! I’ll give the fellow a
good lesson! " . '
When I entered the room, the fir-tree was
standing on the table with lights burning
around it, and the shoemaker’s little boys
Carl and Christian were blowing a fife and a
trumpet, while the shouting and screaming
was done by 'little' Marie, who was stretching.
her tiny hands toward the lights and kicking
merrily in her mother’s lap, for she was not
yet able to walk. The Shoemakcr’s wife,
who had put. her spinningwheel aside, tied
on a clean apron; and donned her Sunday cap
and Sunday face, was laughing at the child-
dren and wipping little Marie’s mouth, when
she smeared it. with gingerbread. The shoe.
maker had covered up his work-bench, put
on his slippers, and was now’ sitting by the
stove with along pipe and mug of beer.
Well, nobody could come in here with
angry words. So'I only said,_ “Good even-
ing,” and pretended I merely wanted to see
what the fun. «was about. Everything was
then shown me; the gingerbread and apples,
the strings of bright colored beans, the
seven wheat. rolls, and one bit of candy that
hung on the fir-tree. “ Coveted prizes,” said
the shoemaker ; “we have now brought up three
children safely, except for a blow from the
tail of a hussar’s horse, which hurt Christian
a little, when his mother wasn’t taking care—
yes, I mean you,” he added, shaking his fin-
ger at the little. fellow. '
. “I won’t take my work away from him,”
J said to myself, and felt very happy, though
I had a most violent headache. But while
Linsen was showing and explaining the mas-
terpiece—it was Adam and Eve before the
Fall, beautifully modelled in gingerbread and
coloured yellow with eggs and saffron—and
the two little Linsens, standing on the rigllt
and left of 'our reverened first parents, began
to toot and blow the fife and trumpet, I felt
exactly as if the old wheelsmaker Langklas
piano, forte—in my head, till it buzzed and
rattled, asking me meantime if that was not
delightful? The shoemaker probably saw I
was ill; for, when his two little cherubs had
trumpeted me out of his paradise, he went
'across the street with me, wanted to light my
lamp, and asked whether I had any matches.
only our Lord and Frau Butoun know where
anything is to be found.”
The shoemaker took oftmy boots and said,
"Wet feet! And I haven’t finished your
other pair of boots!” helped me to bed, and
added, “Wait a minute, my wife shall come
over and make you sonre tea." This was
done, but of what happened during the next
fortnight I can tell very little. '
I lay in a heavy stupor. It seemed as if
my whole room was full of fir-frees glitter-
ing with lights, and on each hung a beautiful
cake representing Adam and Eve and all par-
adise; and when I stretched out my hand
for it I held only a worn-out boot and a foot-
less stocking, while Cal-land Christian, with
trumpets blowing and fifes squealing, stood
between me and the Christmas gifts, and the
thousand lights dancing before my eyes, and
when I called out, ”Let me alone! let me
alone! I’ll let your father make boots for me
again! ” and held out my hand for thé beauti-
ful cake, the words were shouted and train-
pctcd in my ears: '
Make beets make them make the ' ' ‘ '
Here's the wherewithal’to make tflgmnlnke them P
But batchelors like you, old boy,
Have nought to do wt'l Christmas Joy.
i
shiver ran through my limbs, my flesh crept, .
was boringjwith silent awl—piano, forte, .
“I have everything,” I answered, “but-
Tllcn the old red pipkin, that stood at the
head of my bed, began to laugh all over its
broad, shining face; and the whole room was
filled with worn-out boots, which all thurst
out their tongues, and shoemaker Linsen
seized them one after another, tied them up
in a bundle, and hung them at my window
instead of curtains. At the foot of liwd
two people were perpetual’; sawing wood,--
one sawed fine wood and the other oak
branches and when the fine wood was salv-
ed Frau Butoun constantly danced her night~
cap up and down before my eyes—up and
down, up and doWn; and when the oak tim-
ber was sawed it seemed as if I sawalargc red
strawberry ina green wood, and I was not
mistaken, for it was my Uncle Mattlrias’ red
nose peeping out over my ‘ green dressing-
gown. ' f " ‘
\Vell. one night, When the oak timber was
again being vigorouslysawed, I felt- as if I
was coming out of the darkness into the
light, and; gropcd 'around me to discover
where I was: I was lying in my bed, the
night-lamp burned ‘ dimly, 'and ill the
arm-chair with the large 'stqucd back lay my
Uncle Matthias, wrap-ped‘to-the nose ill my
green dressing-gown, and snoriirg horribly. '
. “Uncle Matthias! _I ’callcd. '
At first'hc did not bear, but finally
red, and rubbed his eyes. .
“Uncle Matthias,” I asked, “‘ where is
Linsen ‘3 ”. '
“ Boy,” saidmy lmclc—hc always calls me
“ boy,’.’ with about as much propriety as old
neighbor Hamann~ always calls his twenty-
tWO-years-old horse “that filly ”—“boy, are
you beginning that all over again? What
have you to do with Linsen, the shoemaker? I
The man does nothing for you.” _ ' . '
“ Uncle,” said -I, as he stretched himself
out again to attend to the sawing business,
“.is it true, or did I dream, that old bache-
lors have nothing to do with Christmas,
trees ‘3”
“Stuff and nonsense! ” said my Uncle
Matthias. “ Lie still! "
“ Have I been very sick '3 ” I asked.
“God knows you have,” said my uncle,
creeping out of the dressing-gown, taking
the lamp, and holding it before my eyes.
“But really, really, I believe you’ll pull
through, for you look quite different,”—
here he patted me,—-“my little boy. Can
you really see that I am your uncle Matthias, .
and that this is my nose, and not a straw-
berry? And will you stop your strawberry-
picking now? Last night you dashed your
fist into my face twice, when I was nodding
a little.” I promised to behave better, for I
knew -had my sinses again.
And it was even so; the sickness was over,
but my suffering now first began. I was so
tired and faint that I couldnot stir; and. if I,
turned my eyes Frau Butoun stood before
me, with the 'red-glazed pipkin in one hand
and a spoon in the other, feeding and stuff-
ing me with some kind of gruel as thick as
book-binder’s paste, and very much like it in
flavour, while she said, “Eat it! eat it! If
you don’t cat,'you’ll never get better.” And
during all this torment, the kind-hearted
old creature had such a pitying look as she
gazed over her pot of paste, that I was forced
to swallow it, willing or not. V
Every thing has an end, and a sausage has
two. I got out of the bed, and sat for hours
talking with Uncle Matthias, and discussing
various objects. “Uncle,” said Tom day,
fortlre dream of the fir—tree and the old bach—
elor still lingered in my head, “uncle, we
must both get married.”
“Nonsense,” said my uncle. “ Do you
suppose when I served as an Austrian .ser-
geantin the Imp, enal' army in the _year.!131
ouglit to have founded a pretty Hungarian
race?” ’ ,
“No,” I replied, “I’m really talking
about myself. You see,’I think if I had a
wife—that is, an orderly wife, and a good,
alld a—a pretty little wife, and you came to
live with us——”
“And take care .of the children? Much
obliged to you,” said my Uncle Matthias.
“I didn’t mean that; But I want to get
married, for Frau Butotul’s ‘nursing in this
last sickness——”
“Seems to me,” he interrupted, “ you
were nursed well enough. I myself——”
f‘I’m not talking about that, ” I replied,
“you did everything in your power; but a
wife ” \ ,
“Well, are you on the track?” asked my
uncle. ,
“ I know one,” said I. .
“Will she have you ? ”
“I don’t yet know,” I replied.
“I suppose she’s handsome,” he said, wink-
ing one eye at me. '
“You can see for yourself. Unluckily, I
can’t go with you. She passes every after-
noon, between three and four o’clock, through
the gate near the mill; and you can’t mistake
her, for she’s the prettiest of all who go
there."
“ Of course,” said my uncle.
. "And has atassel on her cloak, and leads
a little boy by the lland,”"I added.
“Are you going to marry a child, too ?”
“What do you mean?” I cried, angrily.
“ It’s her sister’s child.” ' .
“ Heaven preserve us! ” said my uncle.
“Don’t get .into a rage. , What do I know
about it? She 'might be a young widow.
“Well, I’ll take a look at her! ” So saying,
he left the room. .
About five o’clock-in the afternoon he came
in again, lighted his pipe, sat down, andin
nothing at all: This naturally vexed me,
and I also kept silent. We both smoked like
chimneys. But I was too curious; so I rose,
and, standing where he could not. peer into
my face, asked, “Ilavc you been at the
gate ? ’,’
“ That I have,” he replied. ,
“ Well?” I asked. ‘
“ Well,” said he.
“ Did you see her ?”
“ I’ve seen her—and talked with her.”
“The deuce you have! ” said I, turning.
“What did, you have to say to her ‘9 I
haven’t spoken to her myself yet.”
“That’s just it,” said he. “ One of us
must make a beginning, and I suppose I can
speak to my nephew’s betrothed.”
“ We haven’t 'got so far as that yet.”
“ But what is not, may be,” said he, lean-
ing back in the old leather arm-chair, and
stretching out his legs. “I’ll tell you all
about it,” he continued. “As I was Walking
along the street, she came behind me; and I
prepared to take a good look at her, for, she
leda little boy by the hand. I couldn’t see
the tassel, because it hung on her back.”
“Yes, I understand. I suppose you look-
cdvery hard at her." - .
“When I want to see; anything, I open my
eyes,” said my uncle, “and I did so, and she
casthors down with a look as if she were
drawing her bed-curtains together at night ;
and when she passed by I saw the tassel too.”
“You doubtless stared at her finely, said I.
“That I did, but it’s none of your busi—
ness.”
“ Did you like her ?”
“Oh, yes! She has several qualities that
please me. In the first place she hasn’t much
wound around her head, 'and secondly, she
doesn’t sweep up the street with her clothes;
and 'these are two virtues, my son, which are
of more importance than is generally sup-
.posed :for women wllohave so much or. their
heads usually have very little in .them, and
stir-
legs or, which is still worse, their shoes are
shabby. My son', inchoosing women and
horses, you must always first look at the
legs; if the gait is graceful. the legs are all
right, and if the shoes are beat you can de-
pend upon industry, order, and cleanliness.”
“ So you think ”—I asked. ' '
“ I think nothing at all," be interrupted.
those who wear long dresses all have crooked, -
“Let me first tell you what has happened.
As shc’walked before me - towards the mill,
and I followed her I could .not help saying
to myself, ‘Really! you-are a pretty girl!
Vcrv likely your head may be a very little
turned, but that will do no harm : that’s natural
for a woman, but, ‘llow does she talk?
That’s the main thing! “(You must begin a
conversation with her. ’ :‘So, when she came
back again, I stood with my back against a
tree and pretended .to be filling my pipe; and
when she was only a few paces from me I
took my tinder—box from my pocket, and
seized the opportunity to pull out a little
money with it—do you see, my boy? all
done intentionally—so that the two-groscllen
pieces rattled on the frozen path. ' I stooped
slowly down, as if itwere very hard for me
to collect them, and when she saw it she in-
stantly told the little boy to help me pick
them up, and gathered some herself. I
thanked her, and we entered into conversa-
tion and walked back together to the gate."
“ What did you talk about '3 ” I asked.
“ Oh, nothing of any consequence. 'I said
I was your uncle, and asked if she did not
know you—you were always walking up and
down here. She said she had not had that
pleasure; ‘pleasurcé she called it. Tlren I
asked if she had not seeni’a young- man with
ayellow-grey skin, a yellow-grey overcoat,
yellow-grey trousers; ’ahdfiyellow-grey hair ?
No, she said;-but Shel _, . seerr ‘an elderly
gentleman in such clotl ‘V‘élf‘éi‘si‘ifellf “I“ replilt- '
ed. ‘ the elderly , gentlefrll: ‘ . ,was'flrc‘ ' young
man of whomI spoke : ' iit‘was you.’ Then
the little boy cried out, ,’if Aunt, that’s the
gentleman you always sail, looks like a wheat
roll dipped in coffee." “Then she blushed
scarlet, and I could not help laughing, and
said, “Yes, that was you.” 4
I too blushed scarlet, for I was very an;
gry, and said to my allele, “If you had
nothing to do except to make your nephew
ridiculous in other people’s eyes, you would
haVe done better to stay at. home.”
“Oh, I hat,” said be, “but I wanted
something more—I wanted to find out
whether she would marry you.”
“Good lreavcns!”' I exclaimed; “you
didn’t ask her? ”. , ’ '
“ Boy,” said my uncle, smoking furiously,
“ when I take a thing in hand I do it thor-
oughly, but. delicately”L so I asked her
whether she knew what you were. '
‘ No.’ she said,“ perhaps you were a doctor.’
‘Heavens forbid! said I. Show should he be
one?” ‘A lawyer?’ f'Nor' that either.’
Well, this and that? 'And she guessed from
counsellor to barber; but I always shook my
head, 'and at last said she hadn’t guessed yet
~‘ He is ,nothing at all?! This surprised
her a little, and she said you were probably
living on your money.- ‘ Yes,’ I replied,
‘ she was right in one respect ;, you had. al-
ways shown most inclination forthat kind of
business'from your childhood, but that you,
had obtained a situation L'could ' not exactly
say. You were thinking'fof something-else."
‘ What was that '3’ she asked. ‘ Of marriage,’
I said, and asked what she thought of it.
But first I said to, myself, ‘ If she turns pale
at this question, she does "not like 7 him; if.
she blushes she’ll marry; him.’ She grew
scarlet, stooped down and tied the little boy’s
hat, and whenshc rose looked at me from
head to foot, made 'a sort of - curtsy, and
away she went. So I lost the. opportunity
to ask a question I \vantcdé‘to put on my own
account.” _ ~ I I;
“ That would doubtless; have been a_ fine
question, too,” I'said, biting off the end of
my pipe in my rage. - f .
“Oh, no,” replied my uncle, “ I only
wanted 'to ask her ,‘YIICQlé‘i‘ sile_can cook fish
waif” and the old fellowllookefi~ as grave and
important as if my marriage. concerned him
more than myself.
A few days after, when I could walk a
little: Idid nor go near the mill, for I felt
asshamed'to see her. “I’ll ride up'to‘the
lake for a little ”while,” I'thought, “and look
at the skating and‘s‘leighing.” I did so; and
as I approached the building where beer,
brandy, and punch were bought, I walked
about a short time, and there was my Uncle
Matthias putting an eight-groschcn piece on
the counter, and asking for four groscllens’
worth of cakes and a four-grosellen glass of
punch. This amazed me, for he preferred
rum to punch, and never tasted cake.‘ “ TVhy,
what does this mean?” I thought; .“he is
probably going to treat some children,”
But, ‘no! Without preceiving me, he went
with his pile of cakes and glass of punch to
a sleigh in which sat a lady with a grey veil,
bent his body forward as if he wanted to
‘sprain his back, and slipped about on the ice
so comically that I thought the old man
would loose his balance, and was on the point
of springing forward to seize him by the
arm; just at that moment the lady threw
back her veil, and what did I see? My dear
sweetheart, the light of my eyes! I felt as
if some one had slapped me in the face. '
“The deuce! ”I exclaimed;“ the old fellow
is spoiling the whole courtship,” and went
home furiously angry. ' ~
I sat in the dark, fretting internally, when
the door opened and .my uncle came in:
“Good evening,” said be. “Why are you
sitting here in the dark? Light a lamp.”
This .is the only time I ever failed ,to say
good-day to my mother’s brother; but I rose
and lighted a'lamp, looking like a salt herring
that had lain afortnight in vinegar.
“ What ails you? ” he asked.
“ Nothing,” I answered curtly, but thought,
“ He is my mother’s brother,” and added, “ I
'don’t feel well” . '
“ I do,” said he, looking as jolly as an old
donkey which has been standing in his stall
a fortnight eating oats. “ I’ve been talking
with her again,” he added. ‘
“ I don’t care,” I replied.
“What am I“ to understand by that?”
-he asked, with a very solemn face.
“ I’ve done with the dream." said I.
“ You don’t want to marry her? ” he ask-
ed, putting both arms on the back of the
arm-chair, and looking me sharply in the
face. “ We managed the matter so delicate-
ly—~-so delicately that a dog might lrowl' if
nothing came of it—and now you won’t
marry her! ” ' -
“ No, uncle, I won’t. Do you suppose I’ll
let you take the cream, and be satisfied - with
the scan milk? For in this they all agree—
sce here! Amalie Schoppe, nee Weise, and
Elise vou lIohenllausen, me you Ochs, and
all the rest who have written about this re-
lation——tlle fairest part of marriage is the
intercourse of betrothed lovers; and this you
are monopolizing yourself, and I must look
on and see you treat my-betrothed to punch
and cakes.” My uncle-took the, books, tos-
sed them on the sofa, planted himself in
front of me, and said— ‘
“Iask you for the last time, will you
marry the girl or not ?”
“N0,” said I.
“Well,” he replied gazing steadily at me
witlla very grave face, as if lie had just
made his will and was going to sign it,
“well, the girl shall come to no harm
through me, for I’ll marry her myself 1”
and with these words stalked proudly out of
the room. .
This is a pretty piece of business. At
first I stood bewildered, then threw 'myself
on the sofa and burst into a hearty laugh.
1
agel'rad notithe courage! I tried to laugh
again, but didn'ot succeed very well, for my
heart was notuntroubled; and though I made
my face .broa'd enough-the lauglr,.stlrck in my
throat, and whenI caught in the looking:
glass, a glimpse of- myself ' witlrlthe stupidest
expression in‘ the world, 'I startedfrup', paced
up and down the room in long'strides, raged
right to a fair. hearing in the Church with a
.that the brides of next season will be uncere-
My 'imcle‘,who was at least twenty years '
Lolder than I; would marry, while I at my .
fist, and said, “He’ll do' it—llc’s capable of
it! ' . . ' I
When Frau Butoun came, sire of course
gave me many occasions for scolding; and
whenIhad put things to rights I went to the
club, and played ombre, constantly saying to
myself, “ You can’t allow that,” and lost, and
tllcn murmured, “You would not let that
heart be bought! ” and was beaten. I went
sulkily home, threw myself down and tried
to sleep, bllt could not. I raged against my-
self all night, for I could not give up that
sweet child—~shc had done me no wrong—
and I was never, in my life, to adorn a fir-
trce on Christmas eve ? It I said to myself,
“ Why not ? ” , all my scruples darted through
my brain like a swarm of bumble-bees; and
before my eyes appeared ahugc interrogation-
point, which, if Iintcrprctcd it, always said.
“ But will she marry you ?-
' [Concluded next week]
. . .
' Our New York Editor. 1
BEECIIER Au.ux—Twr-zsn—«Mcrmlm AND Sor-
ClDE—TIIE Ravlvar. SEASON—BUSINESS—
Tna New YEAR. »
NEW YORK, Jan. 1, 1875.
nancnnn AGAIN.
The Beecher case re-opens. in a differth
spirit from that in whichit has been met be-
fore. There is less disposition to search for
Sensationaiaudjfltfréh 'Moulton‘ipress'es her
firmness and dignity that promise her part at
least will be worthily performed. There is
not one sincere friend of pl' fly and order
who does not long to see this ghastly scandal
set at rest, nor left to be the mystery of mod-
ern times, worse than the story of the Iron
Mask. Mrs. Moulton demands her right as a
church member to a hearing. before being
summarily expelled, and her husband is de-
termined not to die without a fight for life.
As Beecher refuses to prosecute him, he will
prosecute Beecher, so that a jury shall decide
which of the two is perjured. So you see
the old scandal is still alive, and will proba-
bly drag throughanothcr year.
TWEED
is not in Havana, that any one knows of.
The man supposed to be the great thief is an-
other man who is so unfortunate as to resem-
ble him. The theory now is that he is in
hiding in New.York, waiting till O’Connor
gets well, that his troubles may be arranged.
Wherever he ‘may be, one thing is certain, the
plundered city will never get a cent of what
has been stolen froin_ it. No New York
politician ever refunded a dollar that he had
stolen, and Tweed is not the man to begin.
THE OLD, OLD STORY.
Last night aman, a woman, and two chil-
dren were found dead in a room on Fourth
avenue, with bullet holes through them. It
was a-ghastly sight, and a ghastly story is be-
hind it. Edward Minster, the son- of a
wealthy man, fell in love with a. woman
whose character was so bad that he would not
marry her, but he did live withller. The old
story was repeated. She drained him of his
money, estranged lrimfrom his friends, and
finally, when he had nothing left, was getting
ready to leave him. Mad with jealousy, he
shot her, then the Children, and then himself.
There are twenty thousand men ilr this city
living in this way, and every week more or
less of them make a tragical ending. .
'rrlr: REVIVAL stirs-ox
Is passing away, but there are no revivals.
Moody and Sankey did not succeed in crea—
ting any enthusiasm in Brooklyn, and their
failure chilled the churches to a degree that
precludes the possibility of a successful
movement against Satan this winter. It was
intended to make a‘decisive clrzu-gc along the
whole line, and extensive preparations were
made to that end, but it has all been alz'lndon—
ed, and the churches are colder than ever.
The temperance organizations are making a
little headway, but they are evidently dis-
couraged and are working with no heart.
Depression ilr business—the struggle for life
that every business man has to make, leaves
little opportunity for purely benevolent or
unselfish operations. I The man up to his c‘yes
in debt and a bad business has but little heart
for work of this kind. There will be no re-
vivals worth speaking of this winter in New
York.
rmsrxess- _
Continues horribly dull—in fact there isn’t
any business. The hotels are empty, the
wholesale trade is nothing, and the retail
trade is not half what it ought to_bc. The
longest faced man in the world, just now, is
the New Yorker who has a store on his hands
for which hepaying $10,000 rent per annum.
His expenses go on mercilessly, and his busi-
ness out of which he is to pay, is nothing.
It is the worst season ever known, and no
one feelscertain of improvement. Happy is
the man who is well out.
NEW ram Torres.
New Year calls were paid with less cerea
mony this year than for many years before.
In fact the fashionables mourn‘the ' small and
quiet ways in which everything is done.
They are afraid that the world inits exagger-
ated reverence for everything old—fashioned
in the Centennial year, may go back to the
custom of doing without wedding tours, and
moniously marched to their new homes and
begin married life without so much as a trip
toNiagara, and take their‘Paris tour out in
a round of teaparties, as their grandfathers
and grand mothers did a hundred years ago.’
Truth compels me to say that the Paris trip
would be the cheaper in the end, for there
used to be deep complaints of old, that these
festivities preyed heavily on the pockets of.
all concerned, and morethan one good trades-
rnan was ruined by lraviug too lnuch compa-
ny. But spite of the money pressure and
the fancy for simple ways, we hear of ladies
receiving in blue and maroon velvet gowns,
that the fashionable gowns for receiving calls
on chv,lYear’s day was of blue and ma-
roon velvet, with trimmings of the new Genoa
point which is a srrt of fine IIoniton lace
witlra net ground which my lady readers
will recogize‘as i. new departure in 'lace.
Yellow and blue diamonds, and cameos which
require the most exquisite creations of art in
their subjects, are the approved jewels to
wear with these elegant toilets. PIETRO.
_.._..__.._____
The Vermont Citlizen, a large and apparent-_
1y flourishing paper, published at Norrisville,
has a way peculiar to itself for treating de-
linquent subscribers. It has a column head-
ed “ Skunks,” in which it publishes a list of
those persons who have defrauded the pub-
lishers, acCornpanied by a few original 'rc-
marks. The following are brief specimens:
“Henry 'II. Bedell lives ill Stowe—We
were sap-head enough to sendfhim our sheet
till We got sight of him,-and then concluding
to“cast pearls before swine,” no longer, we
stopped sending our weekly treasures to him
instantcr. He owcs‘us only $1.25.—‘When
he sheds his bristles he. is going.to.,pay us.
He is l-Iog No, 1, .‘ r. ~ «2 ’
D. II. Wheeler. lives in \VolcottL—‘4He'is‘ :
Exporter list, and so we are s:uck to the tune
of $5.25. He is a carniverous nincompOOp, -
and is Skunk No. 22.” j - .
Saratoga Lakehas again beenilsclccted as
the place for the annual College bout races. ’
Harvard will enter this year, but‘not- here;
after, Yale will not compete: The English
tfcipnteingithree‘, ”fluile‘sil’ei htgayvayraofi insix.
cared boats without 'coxswains,,_but' , have-not,
as yet accepted. ' j. ‘ , :-_ .-:1
had47 changescf officers .in the last . four
against myself, struck the table with my
one of these'polecats that come to us on. the ' ;
. TINA,
builnesihe hopes to incl-it publiepatronags; 9
University-crews have :been invitedtdpar: . '
The State Reform; School ' ‘at "Meridcn 'lras -
NORWALK GAZETTE.
PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY MDRIIIBl
The Second Oldest Paper In the State.
OFFICE IN G A ZEY’TE BUILDING .
A. .11. BYINGTON & co.
A. ll. Bl’lSG’l‘US, J. B. ELL“, G. N. EMS.
Subscription $2.00 .per year, in advance.
Single Copies 5 Cents.
._ __._._‘,____.__ __
Advertising Rates:
Four lines or less, 1 insertion 50 cts.; 3 times 51 00
One inch space constitutes a square.
Special Notices 2.3 per centradvanee on the
above._
LocnI Not-Ices 'iir"’l‘tc.'t:lilig Columns, 0'
Cents per line. ' '
Yearly advertisers restricted to. the business
contemplated at the tinrc of contract, but are per-
mitted to nlakc monthly ch mges of their adver-
tisements. .
Marriages and deaths inserted gratuitously.
Obituary or Funeral Notices 15 cts. per line.
All unusual cuts and devices 25 per cent. extra.
Norwalk Hotel.
ORNER of River and Wall streets, Nor-walk,
Conn, opposite the Danbnry .95 Norwalk all-
road Depot. The subscriber has taken the a ove
well known and popular Hotel, an establishment
calculated by its central position for the acommo-
dation of permanent and transient guests. The
rooms are commodious, the table 00d, the prices
reasonable. A first-class livery. sta leis connected
with the Hotel. Carriages in readiness at all tunes.
LEROY TAYLOR, Proprietor.
Norwalk, Corln. April 16, 1875. -
00NNEOTIGUT HOTEL
Corner Main and‘Wall so. NORWALK. or:
[IE subscriber having taken the above well-
known centrally located Hotel, is prepared to
entertain permanent and transient guests. Good
rooms; good table; reasonable
class Livery connected with the I otel. Carriages
to all trains. Every ctl'ort made to please.
‘ D. B. MOIIEIIOUSE, Proprietor.
ALEX. S. GIIISON.
Organist of the First Congregational Church.
. Teacher of the .
I Plano-Forte, Organ and Musical. V‘
Composition. ‘
Box 379 r. 0.. NORWALK. coxs.
CIIARLES W. MANY,"
. Surgeon Dentist,
monwama, coax.
Ollice corner of Main and Wall Streets. Nitrous-
- Oxide Gas administered.
0. B. COOLIDGE.
DENTIST.
SerCcssor to
D'r. Asa. nrri,
WALL sT-REET, NORWALK,
Office over .
C. J. Gru’rnau’s Dry Goods Store.
Outpaiu.‘ .
EDWARD BANKS,
CIVIL ENGINEEIR,
'AND- BDRDUGH SURVEYDR,
Ofilce at residence of B. O. Banks, Main Street.
Norwnlk, Conn,
S '65 W. MITCHELL,
‘ .
At the ever pepular
UNION MARKET
has always the best of
‘Bcef, Veal, Mutton, and Pork,
at fair living-prices. Union (formerly Model) Mar-
ket, on the Bridge. 18
GAGE INSLEE,
ARCHITECT,
70 BROADWAY, NEW YORK,
Residence, STAMFORD, corvx.
humans 5. LOCKWOOD,
- .Fashionable‘lllaper and Tailor,
AND
GENIS’ F U RNISHING ErlH’OIlIUM.
Main Street, Norwalk, Colin.
N orwal a Fish Market.
The subscriber respectfully announces that at
the Old Bridge Fish Market a constant supply of
ansu Frsu, -
OYSTERS, CLAMS,
and all varieties of choice
FRDITS AID VEGETABLES lit THEIR SEASDI.
crmnmss w. LOCKWOOD.
9‘ Sprrng Chickens Dressed to order. ‘
&c.,
ED‘I’ARD P. WEED, ‘
D R U G- G- I 8 'I' .
Wall Street, opposite Normal]; Opera House,
' A large and well selected stock of
DRUGS AND MEDICINES,
Perfumery, Patent Medicines, all kinds Mineral
and Handkerchief Extracss, lIair Brushes,Conrbs,
Sponges, Chamois Skills, Stationery, Cigars, one"
and is constantlv adding to his stock all the new
alld popular medicines of the day.
DRUGS &.MEDIACINES,
THElulnlersigned would announce to the citi-
zelrs lll this vicinity, that at his Drug Store,
COR. OF WASIIINGTOX it DEPOT STS.,
’ can always be found ' '
P U R E D R U G S ,
I i l r I ' ’ I .
Circlce Wines & Liquors,
FOR J! EDI CI NA L 1’ U RPOS E S,
FAIIBY Jr. TDILET ADTIDIES, PATENT iriEDlDllliS.
I’lrysiciarls’ Prescriptions ca’rctully compounded
day and night. Can be found nights in same
building; entrance on Washington Street.
lyl!) S. F. DECK, South Norwalk.
TNA INSURANCE Co}. ofllAlt'l‘l-‘ORD.
Incorporated 1812. Charter I'erpctual.
Capital and Assets? $5,052,880.19
Insures against in .~ and dalnagcby Fire. on terms
adopted to the llazxrd and consistent with the laws
of compensation, . CuWLI‘JS‘ .‘L'. are ltttlllb,
Ollt‘VAhK-i INSURANCE CO..-
‘N() 1?. WA I. II, CUIVA’.
Charter Capital - - - ’ $500,000
Paul up Capital . - - ," - 100,000
WM. C..§El’.lll~‘.'1‘, I’m-51., (ll-:li- It. (Ion-Lies. Sec’y.
:B. S. BLASCER,
At hlesdrrein rumours “LOCKJIDEC-jllfituul
z'y‘on baud a general :1SSUl‘IluclllUf
l
. llousc contains fifteen rooms besides closets and
One Square, one insertion, ------- l 60
Per week, for continuance, ------- 50
One Square, Six Months. - - ~ - - - '- - 7 00
“ “ one year-with paper - - — 15 00
T‘vo ‘I u ‘5 Kl (r - - _ 25 00
Three u u u u u _ . _ _ 30 00
Quarter of a Column, one time. ----- 5 00
One quarter column, one year, ----- 50 00
One half Column, one tilnc, - - - - - 10 00
One half Column, one year, ------ SO 00
Full Column, one time, - - - - '- - - - 20 00
Full Column, one year, ------- 150 00 ‘ '
~-r,
311116
In.
!
rlces. A first— :-
K‘i' Gas administered for: extractingteetlt with: .
Special attention paid to country residences. ly‘z .
Waters, 1‘oilet and Medicated Soaps. Flavoring _
. Businessllou rs from 9, A. .11., to 12. AL: and from 1
Sole Agents for Norwilik alld vicinity. -
REAL ESTATE.
\J",1\AIVVVVVVWVVW\IW\I\J\I\I\AA
A BARGAIN.
OR SALE—A first‘ratc built House, (on East
. ‘ Avenue) containing nine rooms; will be let
. ll not sold. Also BUILDING LOTS for sale.
- Appi)’ to D. II. FITCH.
Norwalk, 3 av. 27th, 1875. lStl'
TO LET.
I “E First or Second Story cl" a house on East
Avenue. Enquire o! J. l’. l-IANEORD. lt'lS
FIRST-GLASS HOUSE FDR SAiE. '
NEW, FIRST-CLASS HOUSE located on
West Mam Street, is offered for sale. Said
wardrobes; cellar under the whole house, with
room for a large basement kitchen, and dumb-
waltcr, and has a tire-place built tor a. range;
piped throughout for gas and water. It is built so
as to be convenient for two falllilicsit' desired,
llllvlng a kitchen and pantry up stairs, and sepa-
rate stalrwilys. The water is carried up to the
second floor, and the waste water carries out the
water to the cuss-pool. The house is built of the
best materials and in tile best manner. It is now
being finished and will be ready to occupy Janua-
ry lst, 18713. To one wishing to purchasea new
first~class place at a moderate price, ill one of the
most desirable locations ill town, this presents a
good opportunity. If not sold within two months
wrll remit to a responsible party at a moderate
rent. Enquire ol‘ BEEN EATON.
Norwalk, Dccelllber lst, 187:7. ’19
FOR SALE.
‘7 “V0 very dcsirablc'lillillllllgLots on West Main
, Street. Apply at the GAZETTE OFFICE.
F0 R S :1 LE (Jill-ZAP.
(—‘OOD FARM of about 40 acres oflligh land,
srtuate it three miles north or New Canaan.
Apply to A. B. BENEDICT, Smith’s Ridge. .
._._..I. .. I». ”I...—
‘ ' FOR; SALE. ' .~ '
NEAT ltESIDENCE on one of the best, pleas-
antcst and most accessible streets in town.
Has eight rooms, with gas in each, and heater ca-
pable ol‘ llcatill g the whole house. Large barn
with stabllll‘g for several horses. A lple, Pear and
Cherry Trees, just. commencing to car fruit. 15
within five minutes’ walk of the Post Ollice, &c.
Price $7,500. Or will rent it to agreed tenant for
3600 per year. Enquire at this cllicc.
FOR SALE OR TO BERT.
NEW HOUSE,well finished; 4 rooms and
large and convenient pantry and two closets,
sinks, km, on first floor, three rooms and two clos-
ets on second floor; dining room wainscotcd with
black walnut and cedar, kitchen wainscoted with
pine; gas pipes throughout the house; water
pipes, be; situated on Fair Street, about half a
mile from the Bgidge. in a very healthy location.
11' sold. a large part can remain on mortgage. If
not sold soon it will be rented on reasonable
terms. 8 J. E. ELLS.
I
BARN T0 RENEE—A new. Barn with good Sta-
bllng for several horses, near the bridge.
Price $8 per month, Enquire at this Office.
new rail voila whrra PIPES.
Wm. Glover & Son,
Arc ready to put in your WATER, STEAM or GAS
PIPE, at very short notice and at as low a rate as
anyone. \VROUGIIT AND CAST IRON, TIN-
LINED, LEAD PIPES, kc” of every size and de-
scription. PLUMBING ill all its branches.
B. J. some GES,
REAL ESTATE & IiiSUPiANCE
BROKER,
Olllce No. 4 Gazette Building,
NOR “’ALK, core-x.
At cfiice Tuesdays, Tllursda 's and Saturdays,
and every evening after 5 o’cloc '.
Property bought. sold and exchanged. .
Connecticut Farms wanted for New York city
property.
Notary for City and County of New York.
INSURAN CE.
Lancaslrrre, of England, CapltalSlfLOOOAlUO.
Scottish Corllnrcrcial, Scotland, capi’l, $10,000,000.
Niagara, of New York, assets, $1,500,009. '
Metro olitall Plate Glass Insurance Colupan
of New 'ork,'Capltal5100.000.
10 PER CENT. INTEREST '
Fir~ t Mortgage on farm-lands.
5, Per Cent Semi-annually,
no assess. assumes.
- Having made arrangements ' with ‘IIENRY
CLEWS A? 00., Well known bankersr to safely in-
vest money at the above rate, we earnestly beg in-
vestors to call and-examine attire oflice of
Wilson &_ linrlbutt, ~
GAE. ETTE BHJXLDING
J. BELDEN’ HURLBUTT.
Y1
50
. Dorlon-House,- -
GREGORY’S POINT.
11132 subscribers would respectfully announce
that the above house will be kept open during
the winter season, for the accommm ation of Pleas-
ure Parties. ' Guests will be served at all.timcs
with dinner or supper, and everything the season
affords. The House will be found warm and com-
fortable at all times.
that). F. F. STEDMAN S: SON.
FRANCIS J . McKEON.
Draper and Tailor.-
A_clloice selection of new’and fashionable goods'
constantly on hand
Room No. l, Gazette Building.
L A N G L E Y? 3,
PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY,
No. 13 Main so, Nor-walk,"
(over-Gr. St S. H. Holmes’ store.)
I. F. Langley would respectfully inform the in-
habitants of horwalk and vicinity thavllc has en-
larged and remodeled the above Gallery. and rs
now prepared to make all kinds of prctures as good
as the best. at: the lowest prices. Cepying done
and enlargements made from small pictures, and
colored in India Ink, Oil and Water Colors. \‘icws
taken of residences on reasonable terms. Stereo~
scopic Views, Groups and Interiors made. Stereo-
scopic Views of Norwalkat ‘25 cents each. Please
give lnc U. call. Satisfaction guaranteed. ,
ylt 1. I“. LANGLEI , Photographer.
NOTICE TO PATRONS.
Tllb‘. SUBSCRIBER is now prepared to furnish
Soda Water 51"“ Root’teer
STEEL F0 UNIAINS,
to any of his Customers or the Trade,
’ S. GIIUMMAN.
51 )1 Main Street, Norwalk. .
isomers.
The Fairlie]! til. Silllllt Ball
Thursday ‘ficlober isl, i814, ,
'In the Banking Rooms of the Fair.
field 00. National Bank.
’IIT‘EDEST 3"“ BE AllDWED II All. GASES ERDM
THE DATE 8F DEPOSIT.
o’clock, 1’. AL, to 3; and on Saturday evenings
from 6 to S o’clock. ,
Wm. 11. JAMES, President.
“38 Cl 1A5. ll . STRE ET, Treasurer.
Are you going to Paint?
USE
AVERILL’Q
CHEMICAL PAINT!
THE BEST iii THE bill liiET.
It is more heautitul. llllli'mlurabFe, lnu“ ‘ill price,
is all really for use, litlt'S not wash by rain. bcrl'
woonl llrcsel'ver. is water :lllli lire proof, and i: the
best for general uses, eilhl-r itll' wand. Il‘nn or
lbrick buildings. )illlly ol‘ the illlt':l l‘t'SlIiclH’t’S ill
town are painted will.
VOL Lire-NUMBER}.
The following, bye young lady well known
in Westport, was read recently at a Centen-
nial Tea Party given in Portland, Western
New York. ‘
.CENTEN N IAL HYMN.
Come glorify our God and King
With praise and adoration,
Who through a Hundred Years has brought
This great and Mighty Nation.
A Hundred Years of time has flown ’
Since British foes invaded,
And sought to make this land its own
By‘ selfish avarice aided.
But irl our land were hearts as brave w .
As ill any other Nations;
“Then they sent their tea across the sea
\Vewould not pay taxation.
Then ill the sea we threw the tea,
I iThlls llritan’s hosts defying,
And o’er tllc land the cry of war,
From port to port went flying.
But over all the kings of earth.
There ruled the King of Heaven.
And in blessing to our forefathers
A Washington was given.
Through blood and carnage, war and strife
This leader bravely bore them,
And never laid his armor down
Till freedoms’ flag shone o’cr‘ them.
Ass!gossalggsgksaxsars:hereby?!» .-.
‘Coih'e new this” rhiglityiisiimi; ‘ ”3'
Blessed more than any other land
In all God’s great creation. , .r
From darkness into light we’ve come,
From weakness, into power.
Then praise our God with voice of song,
W'ho has brought us to this hour.
‘ ' c. J. r.
m
TWO LITTLE POEMS.
-NOW_I>LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP.
Golden head, so lowly bending,
Little feet so white and bear,
Dewy eyes, half-shut halfppen,
Lisping out her evening prayer.
Well she knows what she is saying,
“Now I lay me down to sleep,"
’Tis to God that she is praying,
Praying him her soul to keep.
Half-asleep, and murnruring faintly,
“ If I should die before I wakcm”
Tiny fingers clasped so saintly——
“I pray the Lord my soul to take.”
Oh, the rapture, sweet unbroken,
Of the soul who wrote that prayer!
Children’s myriad voices, floating
[p to heaven, record it there.
If, of all that has been written,
I could choose what might be mine;
It should he that child’s «pctitimi,
lising to the throne divine.
_ THE UNFINISHED PRAYER.
“Now I lay,”.——“ repeat it darling”——
“Lay me,” lisped the tiny lips
Of my daughter, kneeling, bending
O’cr her folded finger tips.
“Down to sleep”—“To sleep,” she mm.
o rnured,
And the curly head bent low;
" I pray the L0rd”——I gently added,
“ You can say it all, I know.”
“'Przly‘the Lord”—the sound came faintlyfl’
Fainter still—.“my‘seul to kecpg”
- Tllcn the tired head fairly nodded,
"And the child-was fast ‘asrcepr' ‘ - :
But the dewy eyes half;opencd, V_ , ,_ .
When I clasped her to my breast, ‘
And the dear voice softly whispered,
“ Mamma, God knows ‘all the rest.” , '
UNTIL DEATH. , "
Make me no vows of constancy», dcarfnend,
To love me, though I die,thy nibble life Rang,
And love no other till thy days shallgeaif,“
Nay, it were rash and wrong. '
If thou canst love another, be it. so;
' I would not reach out of my quiet grave
To bind thy heart, If it shouldchoose to go—
Lovc should not be a slave. ' -
My placid ghost, I trust, will walk serene
In clearerrligllts than gilds those earthly
moms, . '
Above the jealbusies and cnvies keen
‘Which saw this life with thorns.
Tlr'ou wouldst not feel my shadowy caresgg.»
If: after death, my soul'should linger'h' "
Men’s hearts crave tangible, close tendem ,
, Love’s presence, warm and near.
'5
"a
,,
It would not make me sleep more peacefully
c That thou wert wastingall tlly life in‘woc
For my poor sake; what Tove thou hast for
me, ' .1 A
Bestowftzeg 'I go! _ ‘
Carve not upona stone when I am dead,
The praises'wlri'ch remorseful mourners give
To women’s graves—a tardy recompense— .
Brit speak them while I live. ' ‘
Heap not the heavy marble on my head
To shut away the sunshine and the dew;
Let small blooms grow there, and let grasses
wave,
- And raindrops filter through.
Thou wilt meet many fairerandmore gay
Than I; but, trust me, thou canst never find
One who will love and serve thee night and
day . '
With a more single mind.
Forget me when Idle! The violets
Above my rest will-blotssomujl‘r'st as blue,
Nor miss tlly tears; e’en Nature’s self forgets;
But while I live, bc.true! ‘
i2 . THE LAND, 0’ THE LEAL.
The following'lines, ' almost unsurpassed in
pathos and Christian feeling, were formerly
attributed. to the Scottish poet, Robert Burns,
but they are now admitted to have been the
production of Lady Nairne -:
I’m wearin’ awa’, Jean,
Like snaw when it is thaw, Jean ;.
I’m wearin’ awa’ J can,
To the land 0’ the lea].
There’s nae sorrow there, Jean,
There neither cauld nor care, Jean.
The day is aye fair Jean,
In the land 0’ the leal.
Ye were aye i ‘ and true, Jean, , ,.
Your tasks, on , few, Jean. - -
And rll‘wglgoineyfii -' ‘
To the lands) the lcal. 3—4»:
Our bonnie llairll’s there, Jag,
She was baigh gold and fair,
AVI‘IR! BIBS IE5 El?! ii‘ft L PA EN'I‘
Put up really t'nr'llse ill pails of l. L’ or 3 gallons
kegs of 5.10 U“ 15 gallons, llllll' barn- c-r burn-is.~
All orders promptly filled and any lul'unlllitioll ;
givenilyzlpplyillgtll 1. i
D. H. WEBB, Soiofig’t for Noni elk
‘-OOE“nIx—e r...
cucu‘rpaumonass,
.vD lroooh'x suns, me. are
' By do” tinghis constautpcrsoual attentid'nto the
. \
'_ '_ 'Rafiéisfiiél? 1305!} In.
‘ Practical P lu‘ m b or.
PLUMBING in all its BEAN GEES.
Green Homesifitted up.
- Orders left at Shoppn School Street, ‘or on slate
.at Belden’s Tin Sh‘oplij Jobbing'promptly attenllgelg
to“ - ' -\
.
Goff-1‘0... ~untnum’s ‘
' and .see the new
ms it cells cells area:
~39 T0 BELDEX’S.
Mr. AGUSTUS HAPPLE
Having taken the Shop formerly occu lied bv Mr.h
Ed.-Appell, in ISAACS? BLOCK,WAI. STREET,
is now prepared to serve the public in, the best
manner as regards anything in the Tousorial Art,
and intends making it the
{Most Popular Shop in Town:
‘ The‘Saloon is well furnished throughout, and
will be kept neat and clean. Shaving, Hair Dress -
in .‘Dyeing, Cutting, (be. executed ill a pains-
ta in mauncrlw competentassistants. -
months.
H... Closet Range.
Cal and awe him a trial. .
’9 ' AGUSTUS HAPPLE.
()tlicc west end of iil'iaifi-‘U, SOUTH. NHL'l'r’ALK '
And we grllilged her fight sair r“; »
Totlle lando’ the'leal. ' ' ' 7-,
Then dry that tearful c’e. Jean,
My soul fangs to be free. Jean,
And angels wait on me '
'i‘u lite hilr‘; o’ the leal.
Now, fare ye weel, my ailr Jean,
This war-id’s care is vain, Jean,
We’ll meet and aye be fain
Ill the land 0' the leal. _
gm
Mayor Barnum, of Bridgeport, repeated,
his temperance experience before the Father
Mathew Temperance Society, Sunday even.
ing week .
Norwich has had to pay $239 in physicians" '
and oflicers’ fees in the case of the murderei ,
Richard Robinson, who took-poison'befoie '
he 'was arraigned for examination. -
Rev. W. H. Stetson, chairman of the _Wils~.._-.
limantic camp meeting. association, says that
island is a hoax gotten up by outside
ties.
:'
\1
i.
the story of its'proposed removal to Fisher’_ .2 ~
Norwalk Chronicler