WHOLE NUMBER 1588.
Sweet Syringas.
Last year, when sweet syringas bloomed.
And filled with fragrance all the air, '
One cluster white, in perfumed steeped,
I placed in my love’s ebon hair.
" Sweet is this olring," I said; .
“ More fair art thou, yet from this hour
Thy nearest type to me is this ”
Immaculate and radiant flower.
That night, in sweet dusk garden walk.
She gave her promise to be mine
When next amid its glossy leaves
The pure syringa flowers should shine.
The air is filled with fragrance now,
The bridal buds are in her hair,
And on her breast and in her hands,
And scattered ’round her everywhere.
Not in dim, odorous garden walks,
In rare and perfect loveliness,
Tender and sweet and pure and proud.
My bride awaits my fond caress.
Arrayed in robes of shining white,
She waits in yen hushed darkened room,
Her upturned dead, seraphic face
Smiles faintly on me thro' the gloom.
lIow shall 1 thro’ the dreary years
Bear all this heavy cross of pain?
Pray God that somewhere we may meet,
Before syringas bloom again.
Manx AUGUSTA llnssar.
#
TWO FAIR DECEIVERS.
What do young men talk about when-they
sit at the open windows on summer evenings?
Do you suppose it is of love? Indeed, I sus-
pect it is of money; or, if not of money,
then at least of something that either makes
or spends it.
Cleve Sullivan has been spending his for
four years in Europe, and he _has just been
telling his friend John Sheldon how he spent
it. John has spent his in New York—he is
inclined to think just as profitable. Both
stories conclude in the same 'way.
" I have not a thousand dollars left, John."
“Nor I, Cleve.”
“I thought your cousin died two years ago ;
surely you have not spent all of the old gen.
tleman’s money already ? ” _
“ I only got $20,000; I owed half of it.’
“ Only $30,000! What did he do with it ?"
“ Gave it to his wife. He married a bean-
ty about a year after you wentaway, died in
a few months afterward, and left her his for-
tune. I had no claim on him. He educated
me, gave me a profession, and $20,000. That
was very well; he was only my mother’s
cousin."
“ And the widow—where is she ? ”
“Living at his country-seat. I have nev-
er seen her. She was one of the St. Maurs
' of Maryland.”
“ Good family, and all beauties. Why don‘t
you marry the widow? ”
“ Why, I never thought of such a thing."
“You can’t think of anything better. Write
her a little note at once; say that you and I
will soon be in her neighborhood, and that
grattude to your cousin, and all that kind of
thing—then beg leave to call and pay respects
etc., etc."
John demurred a good deal to the plan,bul
Cleve was masterful, and the note was writ-
ten, Cleve himself putting it in the post.of-
DOC." ‘
That was on Monday night. On Wednes-
day morning the widow Clare found it with
a dozen others upon her breakfast-table. She
was a dainty, high-bred little lady, with
“Eyes that drowse with dreamy splendor,
Cheeks with rosedeaf tintings tender,
Lips like fragrant posy,"
and Withal of a kind, hospitable temper, well
inclined :to be happy in the happiness 'of
others.
But this letter could not be answered with
the usual polite formula.
aware that John Seldon had regarded him-
self for many years as his cousin's heir, and
that her marriage with the late Thomas Clare
had seriously altered his prospects. Women
easily see through the best laid plans of men,
and this plan was transparent enough to the
shrewd little widow. John would scarcely
have liked the half-contemptuous shrug and
smile whichterminated her private thoughts
on the matter.
“ Clementine, if you could spare. moment
from your fashion paper, I want to consult
you, dear, about a visitor." '
Clementine raised her blue eyes, dropped
her paper and said, “Who is it, Fan ? ”
" It is John Selden. If Mr. Clare had not
married me he would have inherited the Clare
estate. I think he is coming now in order to
see if it is worthwhile asking for, encumber-'
ed by his cousin's widow."
“ What selfishness! Write and tell him
that you arejust leaving for the Suez Canal,
the Sandwich Islands. or any other incon-
venient place.”
" No; I have a better plan than that—Cle-
mentine, do stop reading a few minutes. I
will take that pretty cottage at Byebank for
the summel', and Mr. Seldon and his friend
shall visit us there. No one knows us in the
place, and I will take none of the servants
with me."
“ Well?” , _
“ Then, Clementine, you are to be the wid.
ow Clare, and I your poor friend and com-
panion.”
“ Good ! very good i ‘The Fair Deceiver-s"
-—an excellent comedy. How I shall "snub
you, Fan! » And for once ’I shall have the
pleasure of outdressing you. But has not
Mr. Belden seen you i”
“ No; I was married in Maryland, and
went immediately to Europe. I came back
a widow two years ago, but Mr. Selden has
never remembered me until now. I wonder
who this friend is that he proposes to bring
with him ?"
“ 0h, men always think in pairs, Fan.
They never decide on anything until their
particular friend approves. I dare say they
wrote the letter together. What is the gen~
tleman’s name i" .
The widow examined the note. ‘My friend
Mr. Cleve Sullivan.’ Do you know him,
Clementine ?”
“No; . I am quite sure that I never saw
Mr. Cleve Sullivan. 1 don't fall in love with
the name—do you? But pgay accept the
offer for both. gentlemen, Fan, and write this
morning, dear." Then Clementine returned
to the consideration of the lace in coguillu
for her new evening dress.
The plan so hastily sketched was subse-
quently thoroughly discussed and carried out.
The cottage at Byebank was taken, and one
evening at the end of June the two ladies
took possession of it. The new widow Clare
had engaged a maid in New York, and fell
into her part with charming ease and a very
pretty assumption 'of authority; and the real
widow, in her plain dress and pensive, quiet
manners, realized effectively the idea of a
cultivated but dependent companion. They
had two days in which to rehearse their parts
and get all the household machinery in order,
and then the gentlemen arrived at Ryebank.
Ean and Clementine were quite roady for
their first call; the latter in a rich and ex-
quisite morning costume, the former in a
simple dress 'of spotted lawn. Clementine
went through the introductions with consum-
mate ease of manner, and in half an hour
they were a very pleasant party. John’s;
“cousinship” afforded an excellent basis for
informal companionship, and . Clementine
gave it full prominence.
some; it had been, “Cousin John, do this,"
and “Cousin John, come here," continually; .
and one night when Cleve and he sat down
to smoke their final cigar he was irritable
She was quite \
enough to give his objections the form of
speech.
“ Cleve, to tell you the honest truth, I do
not like Mrs. Clare."
“ I think she is a very lovely woman,
John.”
“ I say nothing against her beauty, Cleve;
I don’t like her, and I have no mind to occu-
Py tlte place that beautiful ill-used Miss
Marat fills. The way Cousin Clare ignores
or snubs a woman to whom she is every way
inferior makes me angry enough, I assure
you. " ~ .
“ Don't fall in love with the wrong woman,
J ohn."
“ Your advice is too late, Cleve; I am in
love. There is no use in us deceiving our-
selves or eachvother. You seem to like the
widow—why not marry her? I am quite
willing you should.”
“ Thank you, John ; I have already made
some advances that way. They have been
favorably received, I think.”
. “ You are so handsome, a fellow has no
chance against you. But we shall hardly
quarrel, if you do not interfere between
lovely iittle Clement and myself."
“ I could not afford to smile on her, John ;
she is too poor. And what on earth are you
going to do willt a poor wife? Nothing
added to nothing will not make a decent liv-
ing." .
“I atn going to ask her to be my wife, and
if she does the the honor to say ‘Yes,’ I will
make a decent living out of my profession.”
From this timeforth John devoted himself
with some ostentation to his supposed cousin‘s
companion. He was determined to let the
widow perceive that he had made his choice,
and that he could not be bought with her
money. Mr. Selden and Miss Marat were
always together, and the widow did not in-
terfere between her companion and her
cousin. Perhaps she was rather glad of their
close friendship, for the handsome Cleve
made a much more delightful attendant.
Thus the party fell quite naturally into
couples, and the two weeks that the gentle-
men had first fixed as the limit of their stay
lengthened into two months.
It was noticeable that as the ladies became
more confidential with their lovers they had
less to say to each other; and it began at last
to be quite evident to the real widow that the
play must end for the present, or the demons-
ment would come prematurely. Circum-
stances favored her determination. One
night Clementine, with a radiant face, came
into her friend's room and said, “Fan, I have
something to tell you Cleve has asked me
to marry him.”
“ Now, Clement, you have told him all ; I
know you have.”
“ Not a word, Fan.
the widow Clare.’
“ Did you accept him?"
“ Conditionally. I am to give him a final
answer when we go to the city in October.
You are going to New York this winter, are
you not i"
“ Yes. Our little play progresses finely.
John Selden asked me to be his wife to-
night.” ‘
“ I told you men think and act in pairs.”
“John is a noble fellow. I pretended to
think his cousin had ill used him, and be de-
fended him until I was ashamed of myself;
absolutely said, Clement, that you were a suf-
ficient excuse for Mr. Clare's will. Then he
blamed his own past idleness so much, and
promised if I would only try and endure ’the
slings agd arrows’ of your outrageous tem.
per, Clement, for two years longer, he
would have made a home for me in which
I could be happy. Yes, Clement, I should
marry John Selden if we had not a five dol-
lar bill between us.”
“I wish Cleve had been a little more ex-
plicit about his money affairs. However,
there is time enough yet. When they leave
tomorrow what shallwe do ?"
‘° We will remain here another month;
Levine will have the house ready for me by
that time. I have written to him about re-
furnishing the parlors."
So next day the lovers parted, with many
promises of constant letters and future happy
days together. The interval was long and
dull enough; but it-passed, and one morning
both gentlemen received notes of invitation
to a small dinner party at the widow Clare’s
mansion- in street. There was a good
deal of dressing for this party. Cleve wished
to make his entrance into his future home as
became the prospective master of a million
and a half of money, and John was desirous
of not suffering in Clement’s eyes by any
comparison with other gentlemen who would
probably be there. '
Scarcely had they entered the drawing:
room when the ladies appeared, the true
widow Clare no longer in the unassuming
toilet she hadjhitherto worn, but magnificent
in while crepe lisse and satin, her arms and
throat and pretty head flashing with sap-
phires and diamonds. Her companion had
assumed now the role of simplicity, and
Cleve was disappointed with thejfirst glance
at her plain white Chambery gauze dress.
John had seen nothing but the bright face
of the girl he loved anti the love-light in her
eyes. Before she could speak he had taken
both her hands and whispered “ Dearest and
best and loveliest Clement.” ‘
Her smile answered him first. Then she
said: “ Pardon me, Mr Selden. but we have
been in masquerade all summer, and now we
must unmask before real life begins. My
name is not Clementine Marat, but Fanny
Clare. Cousin John, I hope you are not dis-
appointed.” Then she put her hand into
J ohn‘s, and they wandered off into the con
servatory to finish their explanation.
Mr. Cleve Sullivan found himself at that
moment in the most trying :circumstances of
his life. The real Clementine Marat stood
looking down at a flower on the carpet, and
. . I
evidently expecting km to resume the tender
attitude he had been accustomed to bear
toward her. He was a man of quick decis-
ions where his own interests were concerned,
and it did not take him half a'minuteto re-
view his position and determine what to do,
This plain blonde girl without fortune was
not the girl he could marry; she had deceived
him, too—he had a sudden and severe spasm
of morality; his confidence was broken; he
thought it was very poor sport to play with a
man’s most sacred feelings; he had been
deeply disappointed and grieved, etc., etc.
Clementine stood perfectly still, with her
He still believes me
Indeed, in a few":
days John began to find the relationship tire-
eyes fixed on the carpet and her cheeks grad-
ually flushing, as Cleve made his awkward
accusations. She gave him no help and she
made no defense, and it soon becomes embar.
rassing for a man to stand in the middle of a
large drawing-room and talk to himself about
any girl. Cleve felt so. .
“ Have you done, Sir ?” at length she
asked, lifting to his face a pair of blue eyes
scintillating with scorn and anger. " I
promised you my final answer to your suit
when we met in New York. You have
spared me that trouble. Good evening, Sir,"
' Clementine showed no one her disappoint-
ment, and she probably soon recovered from
it. Her life was full of many other pleasant
plans and hopes, and she could well afford
to let a selfish lover pass out of it. She re-
mained with her friend until after the mar-
riage between her and John Selden had been
consummated; and then Cleve saw her
among the lists of passengers sailing on one
particular day for Europe. As John and his
bride left on the same steamer. Cleve sup-
posed, of course, she had gone in their com-
pany. .
“ Nice thing it would have been for Cleve
Sullivan to marry John Selden’s wife’s maid,
or something or other! John always was a
lucky fellow. Some fellows are always un-
lucky in love affairs—I always am.”
0
Half a year afterwards he reiterated this
statement with s great deal ofunnecessary
emphasis. He was just buttoniug his gloves
preparatory to starting for his afternoon's
drive, when an old acquaintance hailed him.
“ Oh. it’s that fool Delmar,” he muttered;
“ I shall have to offer him a ride. _I thought
he was in Paris. Hello, Delmar, when did
you get back ? Have a ride P”
“ No thank you. {I have promised my wife
to ride with her this afternoon.” _
“ Your wife! When were you married ?”
“ Last month, in Paris."
“ And the happy lady was—”
“ Why, I thought you knew; every one is
talking about my good fortune. Mrs. Bel-
mar is old Patti Marat’s only child."
“ What '1‘” '
”Miss Clementine Marat. She brings me
nearly $3,000,000 in money and real estate,
and a heart beyond all price.”
“ How on earth did you meet her ?”
“ She was traveling with Mr. and Mrs.
Seldcn—you know- John Selden. She has
lived with Mrs. Selden ever since she left
school; they were friends when they were
girls together.”
Cleve gathered up his reins, and nodding
to Mr. Frank Belmar, drove at a finable rate
up the Avenue and through the Park. He
could not trust himself to speak to any one,
and when he did remark which he made to
himself in strict confidence was not flattering.
For once Mr. Cleve Sullivan told Mr. Cleve
Sullivan that he had been badly punished,
and that he well deserved it.—Harpcr’s
Weekly.
m
A Plot Against Anderson.
The thinly veiled purposes of the conspira-
tors who invcigled James E. Anderson to the
commission of perjury, and refused to give
him a consulship in a warm climate for it,
are beginning to be disclosed. Incredible as
it may appear, it can hardly be doubted,
from the course the examination has so far
taken, that they have actually conceived,
and are now attempting to carry out, a diabol-
ical plan for invalidating his neatly variegated
testimony, by proving him a liar. And as if
to add insult to injury, it looks now very
much as though they were going to prove it
by himself. Does it need to be pointed out
that this sort of treatment of a witness who
has been corrupted and bribed and hired to
swear falsely, and cheated out of his pay for
it, is outrageous ? Is it not possible that
the Republican members of the Potter Com-
mitte are carrying this thing too far? Is it
worth while, merely for the sake of proving
that President Hayes is not a fraud, and that
John Sherman is not a liar and conspirator
and suborner, and that Stanley Matthews is
not a forgcr—is it worth while merely for
this to impugn the veracity of such a man—
let alone his being Night Editor of The Phila-
delphia North American—as James E.
Anderson ? Will the American people look
on quietly while such things are in progress?
Shall these assassins of private character be
permitted not only to blast his reputation by
stories of his stealing watermelons while. he
was nourishing a youth sublime in the inter-
ior of Pennsylvania, but to destroy his value
as a witness by taugling him up in his own
testimony to such a degree that he forgets
which story to stick to? Will the public
permit it? We think not. James E. Ander-
son lies—and it may be so stated without ex;
aggeratlon—he lies so to speak, too near the
popular heart; he has been lying—if we may
be allowed the expression—in that neighbor-
hood too long to be surrendered to such treat-
ment without a protest.
There may be those who will refuse to be-
lieve that any man or set of men could have
e effrontery to suggest so much as a sus-
picion that J amcs E. Anderson is not worthy
the confidence and trust of the American
people. But what, we ask, in the name of
reason, do the conspirators mean when they
lead him up to his former affidavits, contra-
dicted by his present testimony, and ask him
point blank which statement is true, and
which he means to stick to? What object
can these insidious and designing men have
in taking up the details of this noble young
man’s former testimony and forcing him to
specify the falsehoods they contain? Shock-
ing as it is to all our finer feelings to discover
such cold brutality, such heartless and,malig§
nant cruelty influencing the conduct of our
fellow-men, we must, nevertheless, confess.
that the treatment of the witness by the Re-
publican members of the committee is open
to but one interpretation; the conclusion
from it is irresistible that they mean to poison
the public mind with the base suspicion that
James E. Anderson does not everywhere and
always tell the absolute and unconditioned
truth. And he a man whom it took a United
States Senator not less than five minutes to
suborn, and who nobly refused anything short
of a consulship in a warm climate in pay-
ment for perjury. As if it were credible
that a man who put up the price of false afil-
davits at that rate, when the market was
overstocked, would say anything before a
committee that needed corroboration. It is
the most painful feature of this whole trans-
action that Anderson’s word should be
doubted. Especially after The Philadelphia
North American, which unquestionably has
the authority of Anderson himself for the
assertion, has given us the assurance that his
story is true.
For if this witness is to be suspected of
untruthfulness simply because Secretary
Sherman and Stanley Matthews contradicted
his statements, and he himself says he has
lied, what encouragement is there to con-
tinue the cultivation of witnesses for the pur-
pose of reopening the Presidential election?
It was upon the strength of what this wit-
ness was expected to testify to, that the busi-
ness of the country was interrupted“ Con-
gress held a halt for a week, and the peace of
the Nation threatened. Great hopes have
been builded on hitn. He was thought to be
the pivot of a revolution; a revolution which
should open to 'hundreds of thousands
of patriots the doors of offices and the pages
of pay rolls. If this witness is to be so at-
tacked and proved untruthful, there has been
a woeful waste of time and energy and—
money; and Mr. Potter and several other
aspiring statesmen have: made a mistake.
Upon sustaining his character depends every]
thing—the Presidency, the offices, and the
future of a party. . Better prove Hayes a
fraud, Sherman a perjurer and Matthews a
forger, than that suspicion should cloud the
word of James E. Anderson. To doubt him
is to doubt the canning of Tilden and the
sagacityof Potter. If anything is to be
saved out of the wreck let it be the character
for truth and veracity of James E. Ander-
sou—N. Y. Tribune.
”
The New York Heraht, which has no very
great admiration for the methods which the
Democrats are using in this investigation of
the alle ed frauds in Florida and Louisiana,
says of _fr. Tilden in connection with this
business :—
Mr. Tilden is a man who, if not a states-
man, resembles statesmen in this, that he
sees his objects at a distance and moves
towards them with deliberate foresight. If
he succeeds in gettin a majority of both
branches of the next ougress on the fraud
issue we shall see what cards he has. in his
sleeves for the future stages of the game.
.r—.—.—__
The cuttle fish when in danger hides
under an inky fluid with which it is provided.
and in this respect it may be likened to the
cowardly editor who prints that which he
would not dare say face to face ,with his
enemy—Camden Post. .
-—-——-—-O-40>-O—--——
Tun Reason Winn—The New York
Bulktz‘n remarks with much truth that “one
of the most seriOus hindrances to the return
of better times is the vast number of young
men who are adrift in the large cities who
can get nothin to do, siply because they can
do nothing the anybody wants done."
NORWALK, CONNECTICUT, TUESDAY, JUNE ‘11, 1878.
From the Atfa itic for J une.
CAMPING OUT.
Charles Dudley Warns r Describes
Its Delightful Discomforls.
The real enjoyment of camping and tramp-
ing in the woods lies in a return to primitive
conditions of lodging, dress and food—in as
total an escape as may be from the require-
ments of civilization. And it remains only to
be explained why this is enjoyed mostly by
those who are most highly civilized. It is won-
derful to see how easily the restraints of so-
ciety fall off. Many good habits are easily
got rid of in the woods. Doubt sometimes
seems to be felt whether Sunday is a legal
holiday there. It becomes a question of
casuistry with a clergyman whether he may
shoot at a mark on Sunday if none of his
congregation were present. He intends no
harm; he only gratifies a curiosity to see if
he can hit the mark. Where shall he draw
the line? Doubtless he might throw a stone
at a chipmunk, or shoot at a icon. Might he
fire at_a mark with an.air-guu that makes no
noise? He will not fish or hunt on Sunday
—although he is no more likely to catch any-
thing that day than any other—but may be
out trout that the guide has caught on Sun-
day, if the guide swears he caught them Sat-
urday night ? Is there such a thing as a va-
cation in religion? How much of our vir-
tue do we owe to inherited habits?
The Adirondack wilderness is essentially
unbroken; a few bad roads that penetrate it,
a few joltine wagons that traverse them, a
few barnJike boarding houses on the edge of
the forest, where the boarders are soothed by
patent coffee, and stimulated to unnatural
gayety by Japan tea, and experimented on by
unique cookery, do little to destroy the sav-
age fascination of the region. In half an hour,
at any point, one can put himself into soli-
tude and every desirable discomfort. The
party that covets the experience of the camp
comes down to primitive conditions of dress
and equipment. There are guides and por-
ters to carry the blankets for beds, the raw
provisions and the camp equipage; and the
motley party of the temporarily dccivilized
files into the wood and begins perhaps one
trail, its exhilarating and weary march. The
exhilaration arises partly from the casting
aside of restraint, partly from the adventure
of exploration; and the weariness from the
interminable toil of bad walking, a heavy
pack, and the grim amonotony of trees and
bushes that shut out all prospect-except an
occasional glimpse of the sky. - Mountains
are painfully climbed, streams forded, lone-
some lakes paddled over, long and muddy
“ carriers” traversed. Fancy this party the
victim of political exile banished by the law,
and a more sorrowful march could not be
imagined. But the voluntary hardship be-
comes pleasure, and it is undeniable that the
spirits of the party rise as the difliculties
increase.
The spot for a shanty selected; this side
shall be its opening, toward the lake, and in
front of it the fire, so that the smoke shall
drift into the. hut and discourage the mos-
quitoes; yonder shall be the cook’s fire and
the path to the spring. The site is cleared of
underbrush; forked stakes are driven into the
ground cross-pieces are laid on them, and
poles sloping back to the ground. In an in-
credible spacc of time there is the skeleton of
a house, which is entirely open in front. The
roof and sides must be covered. For this pur-
pose the trunks of great spruces are skinned.
The woodman rims the bark near the foot of
the tree, and again six feet above, and slashes
it perpendicularly ; then, With a blunt stick,
he crowds off this thick hide, exactly as
an ex is skinned. It needs but a few of these
skins to cover the roof, and they make a per-
fectly water-tight roof, except when it rains.
Mean time busy hands have gathered boughs
of the spruce and the feathery balsam, and
shingled the ground underneath the shanty
for a bed. It is an aromatic bed; in theory
it is elastic and consoling. Upon it are spread
the blankets. The sleepers of all sexes and
ages, are to lie there in a row, their feet to
the fire and their heads under the edge of the
sloping roof. Nothing could be better con-
trived. The fire is in front; it is not afire,
but a eonfiagntton, a vast heap of green logs,
set on fire of pitch and split dead wood and
crackling balsams, raging and rearing. By the
time twilight falls the cook has prepared sup-
per. Everything has been cooked in a tin
pail and a skillet—potatoes, tea, pork, mut-
ton, slap-jacks. You wonder how everything
could have been prepared in so few utensils.
When you eat the wonder ceases ; every-
thing might have been cooked in one pail. It
is a noble meal, and nobly is it disposed of
by these amateur savages sitting about upon‘
logs and roots of trees. Never were
there such potatoes ; never beans that
seemed to have more of the bean in them;
never such curly pork; never trout with
more Indian meal on them; never mutton
more distinctly sheepy; and the tea, drank
out of a tin cup, with a lump of maple
sugar dissolved in it—it is the sort of tea ‘that
takes hold, lifts the hair, and disposes the
drinker to anecdote and hilariousness. There
is no deception about it; it tastes of tannin
and spruce and creosote. Everything, in
short, has the flavor of the wilderness and a
free life. It is idylic. And yet, with all our
sentimentality, there is nothing feeble about
the cooking. The slapjaeks are a solid job
of work, and to last, and not go to pieces
in a person’s stomach like trivial bun; we
might record them in Cuneiform characters,
our incipient civilizations, and future gener-
ations would doubtless set them up as Arcad-
ian bricks. Good, robust victuals are what
theprimitive man wants.
Darkness falls suddenly. Outside the ring
of lights from our conflagration, the woods
are black. There is a tremendous impression
of isolation and lonesomeness in our situation.
We are the prisoners of the night. The woods
never seemed so vast and mysterious. The
trees are gigantic. There are noises that we
do not understand, mysterious winds passing
overhead and rambling in the great galleries,
definable stirs and uneasinesses. The shapes
of thosewho pass into the dimness are out-
lined in monstrous proportions. The’specters,
seated about in the glare of the fire, talk
about appearances and presentiments and re-
ligion; the guides cheer the night with bear
fights; and,catamount encounters, and frozen-
to-death experiences, and simple tales. of
great prolixity and no point, and jokes of
primitive lucidity. We hear catamounts and
\h’: stealthy tread of things in the leaves, and
the booting of owls, and when the moon
rises the laughter of the Icon. Everything is
strange, spectral, fascinating.
By and by we get our position in‘ the shanty
for the night, and arrange the row of sleepers.
The shanty has become a smoke-house by
this time; waves of smoke roll into it from
the fire; it is only by lyingdown and getting
the head well under the caves that one can
breathe. No. one can find her “ things ;”
nobody has a pillow. At length the row is
laid out, with the solemn protestation of in-
tention to sleep. The wind shifting drives
away the smoke; good night is said a bun-
dred times; positions are readjusted; more
last words; new shifting about; final re-
marks; it is all so comfortable and romantic,
and then silence. Silence continues for a
minute. The fire flashes up; all the row of
heads is lifted up simultaneously to watch
it; showers of sparks sail aloft into the blue
night ;§the vault of greenery is a fairy specta-
cle. How the sparks mount, and twinkle,
and disappear like tropical fire-flies; and all
the leaves murmur and clapp their hands.
Some of the sparks do not go opt; we see
them flaming in the sky, when the flame of
the fire has died down. Well good night——
good night; more folding of the arms to
sleep; more grumbling about the. hardness
of a hand-bag or the insuflicrency of a pocket
handkerchief for a pillow—good night. Was
that a remark P—sornething about a root, a
stub in the ground sticking into the back.
It needs but a moment for the conversation
to become general—about roots under the
shoulder, stubs in the back, a ridge on which
it is impossible for the sleeper to balance,
themon-clasticity of boughs, the hardness of
the ground, the heat, the smoke, the chilly air;
subjects of remark multiply. The whole
camp is awake and chattering like an aviary.
The owl is also awake and the guides who
are asleep outside make more noise than the
owls. Water is wanted, and is handed about
in a dipper. Everybody is yawning; every-
body is now determined to go to sleep in
good earnest. Alast good night. There is
an appalling silence. It is interrupted in the
most natural way in the world. Somebody
has got the start and gone to sleep. He pro-
claims the fact. How malignantly he snorts,
and breaks off short, and at once begins again
in another key! One head is raised after
another.
“ Who is that "f
“ Somebody punch him.”
“ Turn him over."
“ Reason with him.”
The sleeper is turned over. The turn was
a mistake. He was before, it appears, (in
his most agreeable side. The camp'arises in
indignation. The sleeper sits up in bewild-
erment. Before he can go off again,_two or
three others have preceded him. They are
all alike. You never can judge what a per-
son is when he is awake. There are here
half a dozen disturbers of the peace who
should be put in solitary confinement. At
midnight, when a philosopher crawls out to
sit on a log by the fire and smoke a pipe, a
duet in tenor and mezzo-soprano is going
on in thc shanty, with a chorus always com-
ing in at the wrong time. Thom who are
not {asleep want to know why the smoker
doesn’t go to bed. He is requested to gel
some water, to throw on another log, to see’
what time it is, to note whether it looks like
rain. A buzz of conversation arises.
When a party crawls out to the daily
breakfast, after it has washed its faces in the
lake, it is disorganized but cheerful. Nobody
admits much sleep; but everybody is refresh-
ed and declares it delightful. The guides
have erected a table of spruce bark, with
beaches at the sides, so that breakfast is
taken in form. It is served on tin plates and
oakcn chips. After breakfast, begins the
day’s work. It may be a mountain climbing
expedition, or rowing and angling in the
or three miles distant. Hammocks are
swung, ,bowers are built, novel reading be.
gins, worsted work appears, cards are [shuf-
fied and dealt. The day passes. in absolute
freedom from responsibility. tb one’s self. At
night, when the expedition returns, the camp
resms its animation. But whilst the hilarious
party are at supper, a drop or two of rain falls.
rain? He says it does rain. But will it be a
rainy night? The guide goes down to the
lake, looks at the sky, and concludes that if
the wind shift a p'int more-there isjno telling
what sort of weather we shall have. Mean-
time the drops patter thicker on the leaves
overhead, and the leaves in turn pass the
water down to the table; the sky darkens,
the wind rises, there is' a kind of shiverin
the woods, and we send away into thelshanty,
taking the remains of our supper and eating
asbcst we can. The rain increases. The
fire sputters and fumes. All the trees are
cannot step out-doors without getting a
drenching. Like sheep we are penned in
the little but, where' no one can stand erect.
The rain swirls into the open front and wets
the bottom of the blankets; the smoke drives
in; we curl up and enjoy ourselves. The
guides at length conclude that it is going to
be dump. The dismal situation sets us all
in good spirits, and it is later than the night
before when we crawl under our blankets,
sure this time of a sound sleep, lulled by the
storm and the rain resounding on that bark
roof. How much better off we are than
many a shelterless wreteh? We are as snug
as dry herrings. At the moment, however,
of dropping off to sleep, somebody unfortu-
nately notes a drop of water on his face;
this is followed by another drop; in an in-
stant a stream is established. He moves his
head to a dry place. Scarcely has he done
so when he feels a dampness in his back.
Reaching his hand outside, he finds a puddle
of water soaking through his blanket. By
this time somebody inquires if it is possible
that the roof leaks. One man has a stream
of water under him; another says it is coming
into his ear. The roof appears to be a dis-
criminating sieve. Those who are dry see
no need of such a fuss. The man in the
corner spreads his umbrella, and the pro-
tective measure is resented by his neighbor.
In the darkness there is recrimination. One
of the guides, who is summoned, suggests
that the rubber blankets be'passed out and
spread over the roof. The inmates dislike
the proposal, saying that a shower bath is no
worse than a tub bath. The rain continues
to soak down. The fire is only half alive.
The bedding is damp. Some sit up, if they
can find a ,dry spot to sit on, and smoke.
Heartless observations are made. A few
sleep. . And the night wears on,. The morn-
ing opens cheerless. The sky is still leaking,
and Leo is the shanty. The guides bring in
a half-cooked breakfast. The roof is patched
up, There are reviving signs of breaking
away—delusive signs, that create momentary
exhilaration. Even if the storm cleara,.the
woods are soaked. There is no chance of
stirring. This life, without responsibility of
clean clothes, may continue as long as the
reader desires. There are those who would
like to live in this free fashion forever,
taking rain and sun as heaven pleases; and
there are some souls so constituted that they
cannot exist more than three days without
their worldly baggage.
~ m
What Comes From Smoking.
A certain doctor, struck with the large
number of boys under 15 years of age whom
he observed smoking, was led to inquire into
the effect thp habit had upon the general
health. He took for his purpose thirty-eight
boys, aged from nine to fifteen, and carefully
examined them. In twenty-seven of them
he discovered injurious traces of the habit.
In twenty-two were various disorders of the
circulation and digestion, palpitation of the
heart, and a more or less marked taste for
strong drink. In twelve there was frequent
bleeding of the nose, ten had disturbed sleep,
and twelve had slight ulceration of the mu-
cons membrane of the month, which disap-
pasted on ceasing from the use of tobacco
for some days. The doctor treated them all
for weakness, but with little effect until the
smoking was discontinued, when health-and
strength were soon restored. These facts are
given on authority of the Brim}; Medical
Journal.
ConsortNo.—Some one has discovered
that short young ladies generally get married
quicker than tall ones, and that the former
make the best wives. This will be a source
of consolation to the four-feet-flve young
ladies who have been looking gloomyand sad
because their new bonnets don't show above
the pew back at church.
.o—O—-—-——
Hmer's Weekly has no doubt that the
Potter committee, the majority, will report
that the President was not elected. Then, if
the-next House is democratic, it will act on
that declaration and we shall have “revolu-
tion.” If the epic make the House repub-
H
- NORWALK GAZETTE,
PllllIilEll EVEIlfIlESIIAl IIIIIIII.
The Second Oldest Paper in the lute.
OFFIOE IN GAZETTE BUILDING.
' A. H. BYINGTON & co.
A. H. Brmerorz, J. B. Ems, G. N. Eats.
Subscription $2.00 per year, in advance.
Single Copies 5 Cents.
—__.._—_-
Advertising Rates :
Fonriines or less, 1 insertion ‘50 cts.; 3 times 81 00
)neSquare,one insertion, ------- 1 00
Per week, for continuance, ------- 50
0neSquarc,SixMonths,- - ~ - - .' - - 700
” " one year—withpaper - - -15 00
['W0 u u u u u - . _ 2mm
I‘hree“. u so u u . _ . . 3000
Quarter of aColumn, one time, ----- 5 00
unequartcrcolumn, one year, - - - - - 50 00
One half Column, one time. - - - lo 00
me half Column, one year, - - . - - - 8000
FullOolumn, one time. -------- 20 00
FullOolumn, one year, ------- “(00
One inch space constitutes a square.
Special N ollcca 25 per cent. advance onthc
Lbovc.
Local Notices in lteadiug Columns, 25
Cents per line.
Yearly advertisers restricted to the business
contemplated at the time of contract, butarepcr-
uitted to make monthly ch sages of their adver-
.isements.
Marriages and deaths inserted gratuitously.
Obituary or Funeral Notices 15 cts. per line.
All unusual cuts and devices 25 per cent. extra.
REAL ESTATE.
‘To Rent.
The First Floor of a Dwelling House. with
\ANV
\
kitchen, basement, etc; Apply to
n. L. ILLS.
For-Sale.
A cosy comfortable Cottage on one ofthe less-
antest streets in .town, within five III mites
walk ofthe Bridge or Churches. Will be sold at
cost price. A portion ot the purchase money can
remain on bond and mortgage. I’rtce 86.000. En-
quire at this Office.
outrun: PROPERTY
FOR SAIL- I
THE very desirably located homestead, former-
ly known as the McClure place, pleasant!
situated '9n the corner of Main Street and Nor
Avenue. is offered for sale. It is near the busi-
ness center of the town, anti still semewhat retir-
ed and shaded by grand old elms. it is on high
ground,nndina good neighborhood. Apply to
ALLEN G.B ‘TTS, Gazette Ufilce.
For Sale
0r Exchange for Norwalk Prop-
erty.
ONE FARM on Long Island, 25 acres, also TWO
HOUSES in Brooki n. For particulars on-
J. S. ltA. DALE, I’. O. Box 68.
qttirc of
16 N orwalk, Conn
For Sale or to Rent.
1 OFFER my residence .on , Union Avenue for
sale, or to let Furnished to a desirable tenant.
Possession about lst of May. Terms easy.
~ CHARLES T. EONABD.
N orwalk, April 8th, 1878. 15
.To Rent.
ALEX, s. GIBSON,
lake, or fishing for trout in some stream two Office and
The head guide is appealed to. 'Is it going to (Miles corner of Main and Wall Streets. Nttrons- '
dripping, dripping,-and the ground wet. We :
Organist of the First Congregational Church .
Teacher of .
Plume-Forte, Organ and ill-ales]
Composition.
Box 879 P. 0., NORWALK, CONN.
‘ J. Belden Hurlbutt,
Attorney and Counsellor at Low,
Boo-s No.4, [up stair-,1
GAZETTE BUILDING.
G. S. SONS-TOUR, M. D.
Homoeopathic Physician.
_ Residence. Cor. MAIN STREET and
UNION AVENUE. Office hours 7 to 9 a. m.. 12
to 1,.aml 5 to 7. Slate at Glover’s Grocery Store
All orders will be promptly attended. ilm20
CHARLES W.
Surgeon Dentist,
NOBWALK, CONN.
MANY,
Oxide Gas administered .
C. B. COOLIDGE,
DENTIST.
Successor to
Dr. Asa Hill,
3' Gas administered for extracting teeth with-
out pain . - - ’
- DENTISTRY
AT HARD TIMES PRICES,
.E‘or bash. — No Credit t
all work excutcd in the BestManner, at my office
Corner'oi Main and Washington Streets,
SOUTH NORS‘VALK, CONN. '
T. E. SWIFT, D. D. s.
The Norwallt Fire Insurance 00.,
Has now completed its
18th Successful Business Year,
And has not outstanding a Dollarof unpaid losses
or of alarms for losses.
Ill Still" BOMPAIY IISIIIIES AI MINER HATES.
NH. 0 . Swanson, Pres., Sam’s. Luvs-:5, Tread,
GEO. it. COWLEB,Scc’y.
S c w. MITCHELL,
O
At the ever popular
U N I 0 N M A R K E 'I
has always the best of
Beef, Veal, Mutton, and Pork,
at tairliving prices. Union (formerly Model) Mar-
ket, on the Bridge. 18
- scriber.
The “en-d floor of a house on the east side of
West Avenue, near the 2d M.E. Church, to asmail
family. Borough water. Apply at the GAZETTE
Onrrcs.
FARMS FOR SALE.
Enquire of _
CHAS. COMS’I‘OCK,
New Canaan, Conn.
To Rent.
THE Jarvis place, the whoie house or by
apartments, as desired. IAJpply to
10 J. W. Me N,M. D.
To Rent.
ESIRABLE Suites of Rooms for Offices or
Families. Also. the large Brick Building on
Water Street,w_ith Engine and Borier,suttable
for Manufacturing Purgoses. '
EST. JOHN LO KWOOD, Executor ,
6 for Estate of Wm. R. James, deceased.
To Let.
The Property in the rear of the Fair-
field County National Bank,
formerly occupied by Price a Bates.snitahle for.
manufacturing purposes. Also Barn on High St.
50tf . E. B. PRICE.
ll
Desirable Preperty For Sale.
HE Homestead formerly owned and now 0:-
_ cnpied by John Roberts. For articulars en.
quire of CHAS. H. STB ET.
Fairfield Co. National Bank.
Farm for Sale.
A DWELLING HOUSE situated in the Borough
of Norwalk, with or without twenty-eight
acres of land; said land is suitably drvnled into
pasture, wood, plow and meadow land. For fur-
ther intermatlou apply at this Office. or of the sub-
HARVEY FITCH.
Norwalk, January 14th. 1878. . . .3
To Let.
Two Nicely Furnished Houses.
0NE a Cottage, neatly furnished. with Hot and
Cold Water, Bath, Re. The other richl lur-
nished, will be rented to parties without ch! dress
only. Both centgally located, and ill be rented
to esirable parties at a low rent. nqnire at the
. GAZETTE OFFICE. -
For Sale Cheap,
Or Exchange for other property,
One of the neatest.aud cosiest littlc Cottages in
the Borough. Will sell to a good tenant for little
grl 3% money down. Enquire at GAZETTE OF-
Desrrab e Property for sale.
A Ver ydesirable place on EastAvenne.
Also, a few choice BuildingLots situated on
Osborn Avenue,forsnle cheap.
Also, a nicely located House and Lot on Mer-
wrn Street near West Avenue, for sale at a bar-
gam. Enquire of
S. E. OSBORN. EastAvenue,
tfll or to D. W.FITCH, West Avenue.
BAKERS S. LOCKWOOD,
« Fashionable Dram and Tailor
AND
GENTS’ FURNISHING EMPORIUH.
Main Street,Norwalk. Conn.
”WARD P . WEE”,
D R 'U' G- G- I S '1'
Wall Street,opposile Norwalk Opera Home.
A large and well selected stock of
DRUGS AND MEDICINES,
Pcrfumer .Patcnt Medicines, all kinds Mineral
Waters, oulct and Medicated Soaps. Flavoring
and Handkerchief Extracss, Hair Brushes,Combs,
iponges,ChamoisSkins, Sta cry. Cigars, ac”
and is constantl adding to stock all the new
andpopuiar me lctnes ofthe day.
.4
ETNA INSURANCE Co. ofHARTFORD.
Incorporated 1812. Charter Perpetual.
Capital and Assets, $6,716,893.77
[nsures against loss and damage by Firemn terms
adopted to the hazard andconslstont with the laws
of compensation. COWLES J; MERRILL,
Sole Agentsfor Norwalk and vsctnity.
stone's II.'IIAYMOHII, ,
Furnishing Undertaker.
‘ No. 53 MAIN swans-nun Stairs.)
B. S. BLASCER..
At his store in
MALLORY’. BLOCK,
hasconstantly on hand, a general assortmento
Groceries, Crockery, Glass,
Tin and Wooden Ware, Etc.
By devotinghis constantpersonal attontionto the
business he hopesto merit public patronage
Dr. C. II. Kendall & Son,
DENTIBTS.
Are nowprc ar-
ed to r e c e v e
their patrons at
either Nortvaik
Bridge or South
Norwaik. The
senior partner
has taken roon‘
o v e r Sclleck's
Bookstore Nor-
walk. while the
u n i o r retains
the old oflicc. Lauder’s Block. onth Norwalk.
Teeth extracted without pain. and all dental ope-
rations performed at cltherofllce.
C. II. KENDALL, M.D..
G. S. KENDALL, D. D. S.
P. S. Dr. C. H. Kendall wtll devote Mondays to
Ridgeileld. ~
J ohn A . Honnecker,
B A KE R,
FOOT 01" MIL]. HILL.
Bread,Boils. Pies, Cakes,Crullers, Qc..baked
fresh everyda . Everything made out of good
materialsmnd sycaretu land competen tworkmen
Try our Baking.
OR _
, CHICKEN POWDER,
Is a certain preventative of
Games in Chickens and Turkeys,
And is highly recommended by those who have
- > used it. For sale by
”ELM. Os 0. S. PROWIT'I',
.-_-.-__.a.._. ___._____.____—-
C. W. Burritt
Has Removed
To No. 4 Phoenix Block, Wall St.,
Foot of Mill Hill,wherc with increased facilities
he is prepared to do -
FIJUMBING-
in all its-branches. Also special attention given
to Tin Roofing, Tin and Sheet Iron Work and J ob-
roulterei? Friend !-
For Sale.
—.~ A House and Lot, in a health location on
W FairStrcet, above Catharine. he House is
. nearly now, well butlt,convcuientlyarrang-
ed. and will make a comfortable and leasant
home forafamtly of average size. The ot runs
back to the river. There is a wellot‘ excellent
water on the place. and Borough water in the
Street. Price low. and part of the money can re-
matn on mortga e. A fine chance to secsrca
home. Apply at AZETTE OFFICE. 3t!
‘ FOR SALE. ‘
IllWO very desirableBuildin gLotson WestMain
Street. Apply at theGAZETTE OFFICE.
OEOROE WARD SEllEOK,
has constantly in stock at his new store,
No. 9 Main Street.
a choice and fine assortment of
Groceries,
Provisions,
Fla/tor, .
Mutt, &c.,
To which he would invite the attention ofallwho
wish to purchase first-class goods at
Reasonable Prices.
DRIED BEEF. NLIC’ED. A SPEC! A LI Y .
BBS T of HAMgfIITHER WHOLE 0R
Drop in and see him at his new store
‘0. 9 MAIN STREET.
Qg._t‘_riage Painting !
HENRY Afi'ILLY’S.
Close' to Depot, South Norwalk.
Call and examine my work and facilities for
dotng it.
Sign & Wa’gonégttering. tilting,
Glass Signs of every Description.
Carriages Stored and Sold on
Commission.
Furniture -Furniture
If you wish
Parlor, library, Dining and Sittiog
Room Sets,
Walnut or Cottage Chamber Sets,
or anything in the Furniture Linc,ofthc Latest
' Style,Best Finish and Make and for the
Least Money, go to
WM. LOCKWOOD’S,
No. 36 Main Street, N ORWALK, CONN.
General Furnishing Undertaker.
Orders attended to romptly day or night. Resl
deuce with Mr. C. T. Cornwall, France St.
Book and Job
Printing
CHEAPER THAN EVER,
AT THE
VOL. LXI..-NUMBE
contour,
. Liniments.
More than 1,000,000 bottles of the now celebrat-
ed Centaur Llnlsnenss were sold last year.
We assert without fear of contradiction that no
man, woman or child will say that they did not
perform aceordtn g to the advertisement. We do
not pretend that the Centaur Llnlsssensswill
mend a broken leg or perform lmpossibilities.
will come nearer working miracles than anything
ever before discovered. We have thousands of
certificates showing how remarkable cares of ob-
Cakcd Breasts,Poisonous Bites,Scaltls and Burns
Swelled Legs and Stin’Joints, the" have been ef-
fected by it. The certificates all read one way,
and the sale is constantly increasing. We will
send these certificates gratis. Some of them may
he found around each bottle of Liniment. The
Liniments are quick, they are reliable. they are
safe and they are cheap Among the ingredients
used are Witch Hazel, Carbolic, Naptha, Bock
Oil, Months and Arnica. There is no flesh, bone
or muscle ailment which they will not relieve and
benefit. The 'Whlt‘c Centaur Linnaeus is
for the human frame, while the Yellow '1’"
nests is adapted to the tough muscles and fibres
of horses and animals. For Still' Joints, Lame-
ness, Spavin, Bing-bone. Sweeney, Gulls, Poll-
evil. etc.. the Yellow Centaur [Jul-lentil
worthits weight in gold to every farmer, livery-
'man, teamster and owner at animals. A single
bottle has put a disabled horse in the harness.and
a few bottles have rendered a useless spaviued
horse worth two hundred dollars. There ll no
mistake about these Liniments. They are simply
wonderful, and they are naturally finding their
way into the nttermost parts of the earth. No
family should be without them. They are handy
as well as certain.
J .B. ROSE & 00., 46 Dar 81.. New Yonx.
I
_ "Children,
May be made healthy and. strong by the use of
Dr. Pitches-'5 Castor-la, aperi‘ect substitute
for Castor Oil. It contains no morphine and is
superior to any syrup or remedy in use. The
Cnnsorln is particularly recommended for
children. It destroys worms, assimilates themed
and allows natural sleep. Very efilcacious in
Group and for children Teething. For Colds,
Feverishness. Disorders of the Bowels and Stom-
ach Complaints, nothing is so effective. It is as
pleasant to take as honey, costs but 35 cents.‘
and can be had of any druggist.
This, is one of many testimonials :—
"Connwann, LEBANON 00., PA., March 17, ’74
“Dear Sinus have used your Canaan in my
practice for some time. I take great pleasure in
recommending it to the profession as a safe, relia-
blc and agreeable medicine. It is particularly
adapted to children where the repugnant taste of
Castor Oil renders it so difficult to a 'nister.
E. A. ENDE , M. D.”
Mothers who try Casronra will and that they
can-sleep nights and that their babies will be
healthy. J. B. Ross: & 00.. New York. 3m"
Free Reading Room.
THIS uncomfortable room fitted up for the
benefit of the ubnc generally, situated on
east side of South am Street. over Road’s Jew-
elry-Store, Clark and Lane’s Block, nearly oppo-
site Railroad Depot, South Norwalk. Ct. t in
open from 9a. m., to 9:45 p. m. The room is well
ll htod,warm and comfortableg' It is supplied
w th four dailies. two weekltcs. and several
monthly papers and journals. beside a number
30f instructive and interesting books.
COFFEE Room.
There is a Coffee Room on the same floor and it
serve HOME MADE articles mentioned below,
at the followmg prices :
1 Cup of Coffee, with crackers,
1 Cup of Tea, with crackers, ~
Cocoa, - - - -
Brown Bread and Butter,
Sandwich. -
Cake, _
Doughnuts,
Piece of Pie,
Crullers , -
Ham. - - - - -
and Beans, wrth bread and butter, 11:
or
a
43’
C
H .
OGOVICNO‘QOIO
Pork
Stewed Oysters,
1878.
EVERYTHING
DOWN TO HARD PAN.
'SRODERIES,
7 VEGETABLES,
FRESH FISH,
FRUITS, 850.,
arr: mu
Very Lowest Market Rates.
A full assortment constantly on hand, fleshly re-
plenished every day, with
Ohoicest Fruits, Best Vegetables,
and Sea Food.
Goods delivered in any part oftown. Leave your
orders freely with
Demmon cf: Newcomb,
53 Main Street, Norwalk.
William 'Hindley,
SUCCESSOR T0
THEODORE E. SMITH,
DEALER IN
Hard/ware, Cutlery,
AND
Acnlcllllllltll IMPLEMEITS.
WALL PAPER. WINDOW SHADES. PAINTS,
OILS. GLASS, SASH. BLINDS & DOORS.
Main St, Norwalk, Conn.
SIGN PAINTING, PAPER HANGING. cc,
A'l'
Quiutard’s. Furniture Rooms
will befound a complete assortment of
mun-nan, ac.
ncludingeverythingusuallyfound in a first-class
establishment, at Prices to suit the Tunes . Also.
a large assortment of
CHROMOS, PICTURE FRAMES,
Looxmu unasssrs, are.
GisssPlatescutto any size. Repairingdoneln the
best manner, at short notice. Also. old Hair blat-
trassesrnadeover as good as new. .
E. OOIHTABO'S SON.
n. NELSON,
Manufacturer of
Booties, Sloiols Minimum,
BROOK ST., NORWALK, CONN.
a-Broken Carriages ar Wagons neatly and
rmtlyrepaircd.
' WM. '3. SWAN,
Manufacturer of
FINE AND COMMON
HARNESS,
And Dealer in
Horse & Stable Equipments.
Particular attention paid to
REPAIRING. .
Thankful for the liberal patronage of the past.
the subscriber hopes to merit a continued share of
the business favors of his friends and the public.
WM. 13. SWAN.
Shonln rear of Residence, Main Street. lSorwallr
TRY OUR
Orange Flavored Soda Water.
licau there wil be no revolution. That is the
case in a nut-shell. ‘
bing. Gas Fixture of all kinds ke ton hand
Norwalkmprilaz'z . p . '
GA ZETTE OFFICE.
II. M. I. O. 8. PROWITI'.
but we do say and mean that these Liniments'
stlnatc cases of Rheumatism , Neuralgia,Sciatica,'
‘In her home that night, and
lady in attendance from 0a. m., to 9:45 p. m., to '
1.3
R 24
' . :3
Somebody’s Mother.
The woman was old and tagged and 85!.
And bent with the chill of the winter's day;
The street was wet with a recon, t snow,
And the woman’s feet were aged and slow.
She stood at the crossing and waited long.
Alone, uncured for, amid the throng
0f human beings who passed her by,
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.
Down the street, with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of “ school let out,"
Came the boys like a flock 'of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.
Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened, the children on their way,
Nor ofiered a helping hand to her,
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir,
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses’ feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.
At last came one of the merry troup—
VThe gayest laddie of all the group;
He paused beside her, and whispered low, -
,‘I’ll help you across if you wish to go."
Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,
He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his were firm and strong.
Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.
"She's somebody’s mother, boys you know,
For all she’s aged and poor and slow;
And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,
If ever she’s poor and old and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away."
And ,“ somebody’s mother " bowed low her
head
the prayer she
said -
Was, “God, be kind to the noble boy,
_Who is somebody’s son and pride and joy! "
a
Love lightens Labor.
A good wife rose from her bed one morn
And thought with a nervous'dresd
0f the piles of clothes to be washed, and
more ,
Than a dozen months to be fed.
There are meals to be got for the men in the
fields,
And the children to fix away
To school, and the milk to be skimmed and
churned,
And all to be done that day.
It had rained in the night, and all the wood
Was wetssit could be;
And there were puddings and pics to bake,
And a loaf of cake for tea.
The day was hot, and the aching head
Throbbed wearily as she said—
“If maidens but knew what good wives know,
They would be in no hurry to wed."
“Jeannie, what do you think I told Ben
Brown P ”
Called the farmer from the well;
And a fiush'crept up from the bronzed brow,
‘ And. his eye half bashful fell ;
“It was this," he said, and coming near,
'He smiled and stooping down,
Kissed her cheek ; “ ‘twas this—that you
were the best
And dearest wife in town.”
The farmer went back to the field, and the A
wife,
In a smiling and absent way,
Sung snatches of tender little songs
She’d not sung for many a day.
And the pain in her head was gone, and the
clothes
Were white as foam of the sea—
Her bread was light, and her butter was
sweet
And golden as it could be.
“ Just think," the children all called in a
breath,
“Tom Wood has run off to sea!
He wouldn't, I know, if he only had
As happy a home as we." >
The night came down, and the good wife
smiled
To herself as she softly said-
“’Tis sweet to labor for those we love;
’Tis not strange that maids will wed! ”
*
To My Country’s Friends.
Throughout the land this day I see—
Sweet land by blood made dearly ours-'—
Vast numbers wending silently .
To deck our soldires graves with flowers.
Such fragrant offerings they bring—
Perfuming all the slumbrous air—
That wild birds flutter. near and sing
In tribute to the fallen there.
What purer sentiments conldbe ?
These garlands lying at their feet,
And all the words of pussy
Are to the victor's vallor meet.
‘ But, sadly to the patriot’s sight, '
Though wrapped inlegal phrases dark,
Pierce plainly through, as stars the night,
Approaching tumults, discords,—hsrkl
From out the very earth we tread—
Like dragons’ teeth all sown by hate—
Springs forth, defying soldiers’ dead,
A breed of traitors to the Statel
From out the Capitol of ours—.
Whose halls should know but honor’s
breath-
A gloom spread forth that grimly lowers,
Attempting at the nation's death.
Sad, sad, it is that days of peace,
With balm all healing, slow but sure,
Should ever in our country cease,
Should never through all time endure.
But sadder that, or far or near,
Now in our dear Republic’s youth,
It is to think of traitors here—
And speaking “traitor,” speak the truth.
And this is “honor" to the brave
Whose anniversary we keep,
Who offered up their lives to save
What we will lose or brag our sleep.
Wake through the land all honest hearts!
Rebellion once more rears its head.
The viper was but scotched—it starts.
Wake! Wake! ye men .till it is dead l
May 29, 1878. Gso. E. Parrox.
*
. Colonel Bob In rsoll's doctrine of
Hereafter leads the gfelon. Alvan P. H ydeNt:
relate this true story, which is not onlya
“good one," but a good answer to the
colonel: “ In Stafford, some years ago, the
_Rev. Mr. Church, a Congregationalist min.
tster, turned Deisl, and finally disbelieved
on any_ future. He preached a sermon to
prove it, and he felt uneasy. Meeting an
old soaker named Horace Coleburn, Church
said, “Horace, how did you like that ser-
mon ?” “I don’t know,” said Colbert),
thursting out his tongue (as was his manner
when fuddled)—“I don’t know. I’d‘rather
go to h—ll than go nowhere—Hartford
Times.
Ina few years, several hundred young
Chinamen who are now attending the Chinese
school at Hartfggd, will return as statesmen
and philosophers to their native country. if
they are statesmen and philosophers after the
modern Amencan pattern, they will make
things lively for China.
“The prettiest girl in Paris this car"
says the New York Herald, “is an Amzricn’n
girl." What nonsense is this? The prettiest
g_trl anywhere, and at all times and under all
ctrctrmstances, is an American girl. This
too ingenuous newspaper will be telling us
direeectly that apples are apples and cheese is
e se. ‘
Norwalk Chronicler