r
VUl^UJIK ].
UXFOlU), X. t’., \VKI)XK«!)AY, JIH.Y 7, 1X75.
NUM15KK. 27.
From {lie Yot'itb’s ('oiii|'uiion.
Tllli Mt:03t0»S ItlA’Q.
i;y kffkcca iiafdiyg dayis.
XoM' I. hope—bet, as I I'eineni-
ber Ibe way.s of garbs and boys, 1
nm not at all srire—that you will
find til's story more attractivebe-
cause it is in all essential particu
lars absolutel)- true.
It is of a curious thing that
hajipeued to an old gentleman—
i’arsou Adams-^ivlio taught the
little ciiiljreu in Vailstown their
A, B, C!’s in his diniug-ropm, and
made them ready t(> g'O to tlie
big woodeli academy, cstatilish-
ed at the toj) of tlie street, by two
Youug felloivs from colleg'o.
Now every term the number of
the jiarson’s siiholars grew fewer.
N'ot tliat the people in Y^ailstowu
had not the profouiulest respect
for tlie old man. No. bVhen lie
Was a vouiig man he had gone
out as a missionary to Brazil,
with his wife,. and labored there
for his Master until he came liome,
old and broben down. And ’\biils-
town was a little vain of having
a citizen who could talk, as an
e\ er\ -(la3^ matter, of the Amazon
and cott'ee-fazondas. Whenever
a stranger was in the villuge,
I’arsoii Adams was sure to be
a.sked out to tea with him.
But teaching the children was
another thing. The old man ivas
one of the most godlr' and iin-
ifo'fldl v.of men,—that everr bodj-
iickiiowledgod,—but the \-oung-
sters did as they pleased with
him. lie was read}' any day to
lav down the )irimers or slates,
and toll them hunting or snake
stories hv the hour. Besides, the
academy wa.s so magliificently
(ircek, as to jioriico, and its
Young “i’ernapabs” so full to ov-
crtlowiiig of all elas.sic.al kiiowl-
-dge, tliat the town felt a jiridoiii
snpiiortiiig it, and eveiy mother
tl lio sent her little Bob or Betty
to it, had a vague conviction that
she thus became allied, .somehow,
to Homer and Thuevdidos.-
d'he old pfirsftti, tod,- w;ss sub'
jeet to file inflammatory rheuma-
ti.-ni, and as the sipiire’s wife said
to Mis. I’otts, ‘‘Of course the poor
man was not e-vactly to blame;
but for a teacher to sit with one
leg bandaged rvith red flannel
was nut calculated to imbue his
scholars rvith that—tiiat venera
tion for learning which—if there
bo one thing, Mrs. Potts, ivhich I
desire for mv' Joe, it is vouora-
tion for learning,—and the par
son has been swathed in red flan
nel Jfow for three weeks.”
Joe, therefore, with Mrs. Potts’
Bill, were sent to the aeadeny- at
the first day? of the next quarter.
The old jiarson, who had dolf-
ed Ilfs red fianuel, and gone back
to ordinary trousers,: sat all the
morning waiting fot sclmlars-.
When noon came, Mrs. Adams
and Dolby^they had Init one
child, Dolly—‘had to ring the din
ner-bell two or three times before
fh« jiarson came hobbling out,
laughing and rubbing his hands
as usual.
AVell, mother, I hope we have
something good. Pm fairly rav
enous, I can tell v’ou. llillo 1
Potatoes and milk. No tea, Dol
ly ?’
‘The tea’s all g.one, father,’
what about meat ?- Why,,
it’s- lii-ere tliaii weeks since
wc had meat. Not that I want
it. I’m better without it. Ihit
.^•ou’ro a strong-, growing- girl,
Dolly, and mother, here, begins
t(.) look pale and ])eakod.’
‘It couldn’t be managed, father,
that’s a fact,’ said Dolly, laugh
ing. She was like her fatlier,
and could extract a laugh out of
tlie very poorest materials for a
joke. ‘The last chicken is killed,
and it took every penny of the
tuition money from last term to
pity tlie hills. Ihit we shall have
plenty now. There were a good
many children to-day V
diie old gentlemaids face grew
sad, and ho fingered Ids baked
potatoes nervouslvi
‘There were just—two, Dolly.’
There was a blank silence.
‘I am sure,’ said old MrS; Ad
ams’ gentle voice, ‘as long as we
have potatoes and milk we ought
to bo thankful.’
‘jUit if we could double our
thankfulne.ss with a chop or
chicken !’ said Dolly. And then
she and her father turned tlie
whole matter into a very g'ood
joke.
But a week later she came to
him with a letter in lier hand,
‘Father, Pm going to leave
YOU. I wrote to Mrs. Sands, in
Brookl}'!!, to know if she still
needed a governess, and she is
willing to take me.’
‘Dollv, iin’ dear,’ stretching out
his hand to her, as though he was
su'ldenly blind, ‘1—wly, you
can’t go !’ — suddeiil v —‘ Ytou’re
nothing but a child !’
‘No, I’m a woman—seventeen ! ':
Audi must, father ! In a little
while—we’ll—we’ll starve, sir, to
state the case plainlv.’
'But the old jia.r.son found no
j)laco for a laugh, now. lie wont
oiit and wandered aboiit, looking
more shrunken and older each
(lav-.
‘Doll\',” said her mother, ‘t-our
lather will die without you.
Dolly winkeil the fears from
her eyes' resolutelv.
‘We shall all die together if I
stave’
‘Don’t joke about it, mv' child.’
‘1 do not feel like joking,
mother.’
‘If ho or T are sick next winter,
wlio will take care of us V
‘I. have thought of all that.
But this is summer, and God will
|)rovide for us for the winter.’
Dolly laid lier hand over her
breast, and looked straight out of
the window.
When her mother said, with a
sob, ‘I thought I could have kept
V'oii with me, Dollv,’ she did not
dare to look at her, as she knew
she would cry out with the j)ain
tugging at her heart.
She started to Brooklyn the
next Satiirdavz N othing haj)pen-
od worth noting, excejit that she
heard, for the first time, a strange
stor)’-. Her fatlier always wore
a Icommon-looking ring of jflain
gold, with a black or brownish
stone. lie jiut it on Dolly’s fin
ger the night before she went
away, saying,—
‘If is a lucky stone, my dear.’
‘Who gave it to v'ou, father?’
‘A negro I used to know. It
is of no value. I liad it set my
self, and thoro is but little goM,.
as- 3'ou see:-
When he had' gone' out Mrs.
A-daais said.,,-
‘I believe v'our father is sujier-
stitious about that ring, and wants
to give )'ou the good fortune that
goes with it.’
‘Wlio was the negfOj iHother?’
‘Yes, I will tell ') (.m. I should
like you to hear the stor\-. Y^our
father’s he'iiltli failed in Brazil, as
3‘ou know, after thirt)' jmars’
ivork therCj and the jjliv'siciaiis
ordered him horno: You were a
fat little girl of ten then,- Y'our
Uncle John wrote to us that if
we could reach liome bv’ a cer
tain da_v, the 8th of Aj-n-il, I tliiiik
it was, v'our father could obtain a
])Ositiou as librarian in a large
juiblic librai’v' in Pliiladclphia.
But the post must be filled b\’ that
time; to dela\’ was to lose it.
The salar}- was large. It seemed
as if comfort and hapjiiness wore
provided for us for tlie rest|Ofour
lives. We had some dear Iriends
in Philadelphia, too, and we re
membered some cosov old liorl.ses
in the suburbs, —Germantown
and Camden,—in one of which
we planned we -would live.
‘ The San Juan was the vessel wo
were to sail in,—the only one by
which we could reach the States
ill time. The evening before our
dav" for dejiarture we went out to
Took at Rio de Jeneiro for the
last time. I remember looking
at the black jieaks of the Organ
Mountains against the red sk\’,
and the wliite sails moving softh-
across the great glittering bay ;
and then at the strange old Span
ish houses, half decaved, hidden
behind jmhiis and brilliant mass
es of scarlet flowers ; and the nar
row street witli its filtlij- gutter
in the midst; and contrasting it
all with prim, neat, homo-like
Philadelphia, and longing so eag
erly to got awav'.
‘Y'our father had left me, for a
few minutes, seated on a jiarajiet
that was built just above the bar-;
but lie came hastily back, lead
ing a negro by the hand. Doll v,
you can liavo no idea of the-mis
ery of that poor creature! He
was one of the public, porters in
Rio Janeiro, wlio carrj^ loads in
stead of mules. lie was covered
with sores, half naked and whol-
Ij-' starved. If v-ou had seen liim,
standing in the midst of the won
derful flowers, oven tlio beetles
that flow about him looking like
jewels, YOU would not have blam
ed vour father for what he did.’
‘lie did jierfocth' right. YVhat
was it f
‘‘riiere was no place, no hospi
tal or asv'liun there then, V'ou un
derstand, to which ho could take
the mail, and he was dying. So
—so—lie brought him to our own
house, and took care of him until
he died.’
‘And gave up the appointment
in Philadeljihia I’
‘Y'es; but what else could lie
do, Doll}' I YVe could not leave
the poor creature to die when
God had sent him to us. And
V’Our father tlioiiglit if he told him
of Jesus, even so late as it was,
he might understand and believe.’
'And did he ?’
‘1 don’t know,.’—thoughtfull}-—
‘I don’t know. It was- ver}' lalo,
you see. He was verj' ignorant,
and had lived aiuoiig tlie moun
tains.. Aataf t'li'e' miners- at Serra
de Frio* are a bad class- of men, 1
am afraid.
“YVhen vour father would ask
liiin if he believed; lie would say,
‘I believe itl.t/ifit; seilver,’ itud did
not seem tq be able to go farther
than vaftir frttlief'fi goodness. It
wail two weeks liofore he died,
and then we sailed.”
“But the .stone I”
“0, the stone! He-gave it to
j'our father the uigllt liS died,
saying it iVas it eliafmed Stone,
and that it tjlessirig (if some Sjiirit
went with it; diie itegfoes be
lieve in stitih thiiig's.”
“I thiiik a blessing of some sort
ought to go witli it,” said Dolh',
turuiitg it on her finger, the tears
in her eyes;
Someliorv this picture of the
tropical cif-j' had cast a glow over
tlie little street qf Yuiilstown, and
the story made he'f own sacrifice
appear small and light;
Dolly did not meet, at Mrs.
Sands, with the legitimate fate of
governesses iii novels. She was
not treated cruellj'i—tiot even
snubbed ; nor did au}' handsome
son of the famih- fall in love with
her. She liad a comfortable
enough time, and was ver\‘ fond
of Mrs. Sands, and the children,
especiall}’ tlie baby.
But the salar}' which the Sands
were able to jiay her barely suf
ficed to keep her father and moth
er on the haresf necessaries,
with no chance of saving a pen-
»y-
It was in November when the
summons slie liad dreaded all
through the fall came. Her fath
er was ill, and she was needed at
home.
She packed her trunk, her heart
heavier than ever before. YYhat
was to be done for the winter ?
If she had but a few dollars to
take home with, her! But she
liadbutlittle more than would pa}-
her fare.
It was not Dolly’s habit, hoiv-
ever, to go v-eojiing through tiic
da}'. She went down to the jiar-
lor with a clieerfnl face.
‘I am ready to go in the morn
ing,’ she said to Mrs. Sands,
‘but for an errand to Crosby’s,
the jeiveller’.s. I left iny ring
there last week. The stone wtis
loose in its setting/
‘1 shall go with you there,’ said
Mrs. Sands.
She had become very much at
tached to Doll}’, and was more
disajijioiiited at her summons
homo than she had thought it
right to say. 'rhe two women
walked in silence down the street,
Dolly’s brain full of wild plans
for making money. If she should
write a book, now whieli would
have a great success, and sell for
thousands of dollars! But she was
a stujtid girl, and it was not liko-
iy that—
‘Dolly Mr. Crosby is speaking
to you.’
They were standing in front of
the glas.s counter, and the jeweller
was turning the ring over with a
singular tenderness of toucln
‘I beg your jrardoii,’ said Dol-
ly.
‘I su-pjrose you know Miss Ad
ams, what is the value of your
ring I’
‘It has no Value,- my father told
me, but as a, souvenir’
‘I must beg your pardon then.
The stone is- a black diawioiid,
from the' BVatdlraW mines, I infer,
and exceeding!}' rare’’
, ‘About how much,’ said- Yfrs.
Saiids, sBeillg that Dolly v as
speechless,—‘about liow liiuch is
it tVofth f
‘If tile young lady is inclined tj
part with it 1 trill give her tlii‘h6
thOu.siind ctollars. But I think
it only fair tc) tell yOil that yOii
could Oblain a much higher sufii
from a New Y^Ofk dealer, I have
;i different class of custollieis frbni
theifSi*
Doly was illiiiOSt stunned ivitll
the .shock; There is no use
lingering ou the sttfly. Tlie iiext
day Jlr: Sands took the stone ami
sold it to Ball ife Blat'k Ibr eeVeil
tliousaud dollars. So Dollv Went
home trith soma money lit her
pocket, after all.
They are living no-iv ili bile of
the cosey old houses in Geriuau-,
town, just as her inother had
jtlamied long agb. 'I’he old par
son loiters out, jjart of every day,
in one of tlie great libraries,
thankful that he has not the car e
of them, and then goes libmo to
dinner, frequently taking some
old crony with him. And there
is no brighter Or rosier face than
Dolly’s to-day, in the Quaker city.
Oood Food uud ^ood jiei<li.
The following article ou good
food and good liealtli, -which -we
take from the Carolinian may
pay for a careful perusal:—
liecordev;
‘Upon this topic Professor Blot
thus expresses himself “Tlie man;
who does not use his brain to
select and prepare his food is not
above the brutes that take it in
the raw state. It is to tlio physi
que what education is to the mind,
coarse or refined.- Good and well
prejiared food beautifies the mind.
People’s taste is in food as iff
dress, difibring not only in colors,
b',it also in sliape, therefore by
our variety of dishes and our
difterent sU'les of decorating
them, by the ease that they can
be jn-eparod in the clieap-est as
well as in the most costly wti}',
we think we meet all wants ami
and tastes. In fact, to use a very'
trite remark, ‘you cannot make a
gentlomau by feeding him on
cod-fish.’ ” J'here is no country
where there is so much dyspep
sia as in America, because our'
people pay but little attention tet
food and eat to much Jmeat for
the exercise they take. If one
has mental labor, fish every sec
ond day, at least is requisitOj
Soup sets all the glands at Work,
and ju-ojaares tlie stomach for the
most importantjfuiicti onsof tligesj
tion, and therefore should be ta
ken at dinner every day. Beef
broth i's to old age what milk is
to the }'0ung. Cookery properly
attended to keeps man in health ;
if the stomach is out of order the'
brain is aftbeted. Wo have the
soft and hard jiarls in our anato
my, and the bile,; and therefore'
it is- requisite to vary our food.
We should eat mofe fruits vege
tables, soup and fish.- Fish and
cheese are the best articles of di
et to give the children. Wo of
the United States have the most
money of any people, and the
greate.st abundance of raw materi
al, yet we live mc're j)oorly, com
paratively, than any civilized na
tion.- For instance there is a mil
lionaire in Brooklyn who has j)ork-
and beans every second day for'
dinner. YV'iinkles arc jiroduced
bv the want of a varictr of food.-