Published by J. H. & G. G. fulyrover, Corner Anderson and Old Streets, Faydtteville, Fi C
VOL 1
rnTTTTDOTv A X7 i A DT3TT Ci -i OfT A
NO 35
JL XX U llOUil X , -OlI XXXJ iJj XQ 1 "X.
'tin-
North, Carolina Gazette.
J. 11. & G. G. MYHOVEK,
',Sr"xa.'fclSl3.03C!3.
: n:iLirs OFsruscnirnox
i ;n; (in -ailyaucet .......
S-2 5ft
1 -T
75
cr; hates.
s (sent In (me udiii c
ss) with an extra copy J ShHMI
40 00
" " .75 00
illl
i )ir-niiiiui of a fino eluomu, value 65
90 00
iro oo
uiiH'S (siui imii" iiumi'.Hs; wnii an 'xir;i oiy
a
a jin.iiiinii) til a miu curomo, value
i;ATi:(FAliri:RTlSlXG:
n-irt- (: lines .-.olid inniarfir one insertiou 1 00
.. .. .. tvvo .. i -)0
- " " oil.' month
' " Vj' ' three "
- " - " . V twelve "
2 no
5 00
9 00
13 00
ttiseim-utu Ii-it-ii'iI m nr -portion to thj
SiMM-ial Xotiia-H 25 lur ocut. wore thau
', lairs.
tvrl-l Ui'llli Ills.
News Budget.
3UMIAirr OF NEWS
i Week ending April 7, 1874.
f ;".
London Ttn'm acknowledges hc exist
i i i:mi-i :ii I'ufiiic in London, and.attrihutes
:iivt of t hus with which Xv York and
ula have been visited
:!!!.' hdliM-nees of the
combined with the de
Iiiiliun famine. It stirs
i'a
lit:
probably as severe' as
in any
-;:iihh'. l roups to liie uimioer oi io.'.iuo
ir wnv to l'l'hilort'o Marshal tserraiio.
rted that the Carlist General Ul-!o has
'1. . .1 . . ! . f 1 " 1 if ii I
J; ;.-
ii.;.i!i.i;i!!i-d. The final attack' on A'oante will be
i 'I- i w- i. .1 t : ..1
, i . :.- ..a i ti.'sisa v or imhcsii;i . tij. is lt-jiuui-n
I hut. the C-'av!'.st leader liodica was sorioa.-ly
wounded in one -.i' the went engagement before
li'd'oao.; ieJerAmlmv Hansen, (Jcniian aH.;rono
i.ier,. is deail. Carlists assert that the movement.
:f Serrano aga.'u.-t the Royalists before Bilbao has
entirely faded, and that there was no lighting le
tweitu the-th and '30tli of March.
I .MK.-I If.
The 4-oit.tl
ouse at Biirlintrtonv' Decatur
burned Tuesd:iv, with the re-
aiitr, 1
own, -was
ds of the t-omit v.- A In
111'!
number of the. lead
ing iiieivliaiits of liostoa have siiiiied a call for -an
aiiti-jiolatioii nieetih to he held in Fanneuj.1- Ifall
MaUii-dav event!!:! next. Two vontia- men Of Zueiu-
iihi.s' hold a tenth
She-ticket which
;uid a flith of lin-ty hold :i fifth of
drew the capita! pri:;e iu the
Lo'ii. ville Lihrary unnvth'X I ru'Sitay. lit. li.
S. Seiiate'on .the Ml-.t. Wet reseiited a mhioriul
fi !)! 'dw ciuzeiis of Alexandria. La.-, for the .coii-
oHi oi a 01 eaivw atr ei jve.i iivet- a. -i.-.v-'ahdna.
which was ref.-ired to the (Jonmiiuee on
t'etnti'iwe. Kiirlit liatidml troops are at Susaue-
.... ..-.. . i ' i.' .i u..
:.-H.f.
?. si veoew.il of trouble is nmireheiid-
tou tht-ir
,i;.lidraw;J; no a deuce or dhjtuih-
-.-s a;v reported, and .t-verytli-ijig is. quiet; the
iker c';n: toelher atel remain firm: those
L wi.oi-t J he c-:.iHaii,y intends etiiployin liave gone
' x:- .;.: hi th. shi ij?. Proceedings in liankrisptcy
t'.f i' A. .So Sj.; . aie m.aa:iactniiao- eoni
i ivcA UistituttA'a' J'rovidcn. JIarcli 31 hy
: -. Xaiioa a! i:,i!ik of Cointneirt, and fhations
c- -,.::'!. V'i.iit :i"e.iioT v,-T served. oil tin
itelei
,1-
t.
icemen
intenr-e
ot
.i
is proceeding;, this
tneiit among busi-
a i-i
exci
in-.'Ii
to i
1 day,
net a.
: a ca
t
etl'iirts were
susnetiriioii or discontinuance of
ill lias been mad'.; tor a ;;ice:i!'g
rs of the bank to reoucst the di
d action. Fire broke out at ilil
i:;J.S o'clock. in the Cetitfal Hotel.
ctor-i t.i hif-r.-fowii.
f'a.
m :;ed iu-thi- biiitdhur as is believed, ainl
v--;: !ic!v'i vvere burned to death, the Ixxlies
'ia'i'c-o', i-i-esl: their names are : Noah Carfy, of
leaWtt vilfe .('. l.-.-t't. tiennau; Capt. Oiivev,
! i.ir-.(tf: M.'trtin l'Liilips ami Saiiibrd Ac-ent.
i'.'ers: the other partv is unknown; .Nellie Cary
i!jw.l iVo'.n the third-story window of the t't-n'-;.'
llo'el :.ndvas basil y ininred. but issjill alivel
-! c !
ncs un tlic east side of Main street
e-.iekV !:roeerv a:id hai ilwai'e store, in
e Centra! and tiatdon Hotels, die opera
cd and I'hirant's. hard wanr. store and
jr.
ill;
two otner 0U!l!lin":3 sotun; on
5tm;t from Ked Frank's si it-ban;?
tb
si le of Main ,
i. iae
..i'.u-? ihit!er &. Co's bank, express oi-
3"j!!erstow:i i-'avinirs li.ink and Wt-fWriuau s
ocet y up to Bcimei'lVr's. b-Hiuvd room: on iip
vy liock- stivVt, north side, from Fieilerick's
sot and shoe store west to Uarnard's orocery. and
mi ! look's dwelling.' south side of Slippeiy Uoek
reet t;art to Prefi's httUidrv. jachidin-? sixty nine.
iin:.
rs in all. were burned; it is thought; moro
were luirucd. tint have not yet been dis-
)-
Vc;
.1
-A bill isa-sed the Aew York tate bt-n-
"ati- anthoi-izinjf the executors of the estate of Ld
w'u! t o!Tcst to c-oiurbinise with his wiiow. Gen.
Harvey lirovvn, of t!ie I'n.ted .States army, is
".e 1 1, aged ?. At San Francisco, Lav & Frick's
Tnpior store., on Mattery street, was burned on the
1st.; loss, abi'iut ft.'hOOO.: AtTiostoii the vote April
1-t for Senator was Pawes 'Jo. Adams la, .Hoar
.71. i'.anks 0, t'nrtis 75, l'ierce S, Yi'ashburne 1,
Vi'liitta-.r 1, Wendel L: adjourned to Friday, ;
KEVIEW OF THE MARKETS
For the Week -ending April 7, .1874,
I.iveimmoi.. Abril 1. Uplands, nothing l.elow
-nod ordinary, deliverable June and July, SJd.
l.'platKtsT' tiothi'mr beltiw low Aniddiing, shijiped
t-u.,.!i J ridands. noihioii-below low nut.
lia-s. sliituHtl itarcli and April. Hit
Ar.eil : Cotton dulS and iiuchaiiLTedSales of
Kitl l...l..-r;iiieln.lin- 1.000 bales forsiH'Culation
atid export: total sales since htsfeport 51,000, oi
whlcli .(KU were taken for eje-port. and 5.0(H) for
st ,; , h la ion. Stock in port 751.000, iticl udiug 3S-',-
ii;!l ol..i-;l-fni::'.ireeeii.1s.yS.0tt0, includin
rvd.ooo
Aa.erican. Actual export 11,000.
Tl
le
Mies tor
ve
k ineludeXfiOO American. Afloat 4t),000;
Aiiieriean oO.lipO.
A EV ioKK, April 1.
-Gold weaker at ll"3i ii
1 1 (lovw-nnieut bonds tire strong and steady
( 'otti.ii doll at' 17.
Southern flour uready wiui-a
!v.,.,i... .o.i :,,mvvx- common to fair extra si) 40'2
. .1' -()Oi
a-id itUvor of huvers No. :2 Chicago fil'50ei
n i. Arn' closed dull and heavy tor old, steady
f.,r rixnv western mixed SitSST cents; higl
sutxti ahd'Vellow western 7S3 ceut old west
,,,u-.,i -v-.7 ao i.o,tj Pork mm new mess
lij 75: Soirits turpentine "heavy .at 4vf cents.
losin liptivr at f0.'
Atil ' fJol.l tmniT at liai113f. Govern
ment bonds are dull and stron":. Cotton at 17
V? cents. Southern flour is in moderate request
15v..si 55i. Corn firm, with a hur lnqmry,
'losing quiet new western mixed 8390 eents.
l'ork .tirni new mess 10 75. Kosin quiet at i?2
50. Spirits 40
Wn.MlxCrTox. April 1. Spirits turpentine 41
cents per gallon for Southern packages. Rosin
Strained, buyer's option, April delivery, at 1 95;
market' quiet. Crude turpentine 2 SO for yellow
dip and $1 9) for hard; market steady. Tar 2;
market quiet. Cotton No, sales to report.
April 2. Spirits turpentine 42 cents; market
stroiiir. Rosin Good strained and No 2 at 1 -90
and new crop Virgin Pale at 4 6 $5. Crude tur
pentine A2 90 for yellow dip and 1 "90 for hard.
Tar at s2 00 l?bbl.; market steady. Cotton Re
ceipts 03 bales; no sales to report.
April 3. Spirits turpentine Market qniet at
4-J cents. Kosin at4l fc-J- for strained, new crop
Pale at .$5. Crudeluapeutine 2 90 for yellow dip
and 1 90 for hard; market steady. Tar at 2
bbl.; market steady. Cotton No sales to report.
ami without material change in price coramon to
fair extra $6 40-S$7 25; good to choice $7 30a?ll.
- Vhe;tt is in better pviWt demand No. 2 Chicago
Home Circle.
DEATH Oli MARRIAGE.
The ancient clock in Deacon Shermer's
old-fasliioned kitclien was slowly chiming
the hour of nine.. It was no smart toy, no
trifle of bronze or alabaster, but a tall,
sajiare, solid relic of the last century, look
ing not unlike a coffin-case' set on end, in
the corner a clock that had lasted through
four generations, and, judging from appear
ances, was quite likely to last through
several more. Deacon Shcrmer cherished
the old heirloom with a sort of pride which
lie himself would have scarcely confessed to.'
There was a gt;eat, ruddy fire of chest
nut logs in the red brick fire lace; and
the candles in the brightly-polished brass
sticks were winking merrily from the high
wooded nianteVKVliCre they shared the post
of honor with a curious sea-shell and a
couple of vases, each containing a j fresh
osage orange, from the hedge that skirted
the clover-Held behind the barn. At the
window, a curtain of gaudy chintz shut out
the; tens of thousands of stars that were
shining brightly on that autumnal night,
and on the cozy rug of parti-colored rags,
a fat tortoise shell cat purred away the
slowly lapsing minutes. 15ut the tortoise
shell eat was not the only inhabitant of the
farm-house kitchen.
"Timothy! said Mary Bhenher, decided
ly, "if yon don't behave yourself,. Til
-rWk'tt she would do, Marv did not sav;
the1 'sentence was terminate by a laugh
that set the dimples around" her mouth' in
motion, just as a beam of June sunshine
plays .across a clusteij of red ripe cherries.
Mary Shermer was just seventeen- a
plump, rosy girl, with jet black hair, brush
ed back frum a low forehead, and perfectly
arched eyebrows, that cave a bewitchinc:
expression of-surprise to a pair of melting
hazel eves, bhe was rather dark: but the
everest critic would not have fourd fault
with the peach-like bloom upon her cheeks,
and the uewv red ol ner f ull, damtil v-curvi a
ed lips. Evidently
Mr. Timothy Marshall
with Clary's peculiar
a-s quite satisdied
style of beauty.
'Come, Marv!"' said Tim, moving"' his
chair where he could best watch the flush
of the firelight, upon her face, and picking
up the thread ol the conversation where he
had dropped-it, when it became necessary
for Marv to bid him "behave himself'
"you might promise. It's nine o'clock and
your father will soon be home."
nise what, Tim?'' said Mary,
dem
ure! v, rutins' a square oi red m ner patch-
work, aiiM. nit
!v oiiserving tue eliect
ousense.
jiiarv
You
know1 'what very
well. Promise to marry me .before Curhit-
as! I tell you what, Mary, it'sill very
w ell tor von to. Keep .putting a lellow on.
but I can't stand it. What with your fath
er's .forbidding me the house, and that ro
mantic Tom Stanley's coming here every
ttnrdav night-
Marv i
;ave her pretty head a toss. "'As
it -J.XY-. tstauiev
coming here maue any un-
ference in mv fee
lings, Timi"
'Xo; but Marv,
.-v
It
isn't pleasant, von
kn
ow. J m as frood a 'man as xom .otan-
lev, if I don't own railroad shares and'keep
' ...
m account at the llamiltonville Bank; and
I love you, Mary, from the. very bottom of
mv heart J. aow tuis matter lies oerween
you and me only;
no other person in the
o interfere between us.
vorld has a right
Come promise me P lie held both her
hands in his, and looked earnestly into the
liquid hazel eves.
-JJU UU. iv) V u
me, Mary
"You know I love you, Tim.:
"Iheu we may rust as we
.dl-
Hush,
what's thatf ; .
"There .was a portentous sound of draw
ing bolts, tin:d rattling latcjies, in the porch
room beyond, and so-raping .of heavy boots
ahitig the floor, Mary rose to her feet
Avith sudden scarlet-suffused brow and
cheeks.
"Oh, Tim, it's father P
"Uut lie . nnisn't
find vo"u here, Tim !
Hide yourself somewliel-e, do !''
- "What nouseijseMary!" said the young
man, lx-solrutely standing his ground. "I
haxni't5iiie to steal his spoons. Why
1 creep away UK0 a detected bur-
ar
"For my sake, Tim. Oh, Tim, if you
ever loved me, do as I say ! Xot in that
closet; it is close ' to his bed-room: not
through that window; it is nailed down
tight. He is coming ! he's coming ! Here,
Tim. quick P
And in the drawing of a breath, she had
pushed Timothy Marshall into the square
pendulum case of the! tall old clock, and
turned the kev upon him. It was not a plea
sant p lace of refuge, inasmuch as hi s
shoulders were squeezed on either side, and
his head flattened against springs and
wheels above, and thp air was unpleasantly
close; but Tim madtHthe best of matters,
and shook with suppressed laughter in his
solitary prison .cell.
"Well ! a io'llv scrape to be in " thought
Tim. "and no knowing when I'll be' out of
it. Mary's a shrewd little puss, however,
and I can't do better than to leave matters
in her hands."
"So you haven't gone to bed yet, Mary?"
said Deacon Shermer, slowly unwinding
the two yards of woolen scarf with which
he generally encased his throat of an even
inrf "1:,
! -Xot vet, father" said Mary, picking up
the scattered bits of patch-work with a
o-lowing cheek. "Did you have & pleasant
meeting T -,
1 "Well, yes " quoth the deacon, reflect
ively, sitting down before the fire, greatly
to Mary's consternation she had hoped he
would have gone to bed at once, according
to his usual custom "it was tol'bly plea
sant. Elder Huskier was there, and Elder
Hopkins, and well, all the church folks
pretty much. Why, how red your cheeks
are, Mary ! TiredJ ain't you! Well, you
needn't sit up for me, my dear-( it must be
getting late."
The deacon glanced mechanically round
at -the clock. Mary felt the blood grow
cold in her veins. ".Twenty minutes past
nine -why, it must be later than that !
Why, land o' Canaan ! the old clock's stop
ped P The old clock had stopped; nor
was it wonderful, under the circumstances.
"I wound it up this mornin', I'm sartin,"
said tlie deacon, very much disturbed. "It
neveffsarved me such a trick afore, all the
years it stood there; Your aunt Janeused
to say it was a sign of a death or a marriage
in the family before the year was out."
There was a suppressed sound like a
chuckle behind the clock-case as Deacon
Shermer fumbled on the shelf for the key.
"These springs must be out of order some
how," said the deacon, decisively. "How
scared you look, child ! There ain't no
eause for being scared. I don't put no faith
in your Aunt Jane's old time superstition .
Where, in the name of all possessed, is that
key ! I could ha' declared I left it in the
case."'
"Isn't it on the shelf, father?"' asked
Mary, guiltily, conscious that it was' snugly
reposing in the pocket of her checked ging
ham dress. '
"Xo, nor 'taint in my pocket neither."
And down went the deacon, stiffly enough,
oil his knees to examine the floor, lest per
chance the missing key might have fallen
there.
"Well, I never knowed anything so
strange in all my life," said the deacon.
"It is strange,"' faltered hvpoeritical
Mary.
"I'll have a regular search to-morrow,"
said Deacon Shermer. "It must be some
where around."
"Yes, it must," said Mary, tremulously.
"Only," the deacon went on .slowly, re
suming his place before the five "kind o'
don't like to have the old clock stand still
a single night. When I wake1 up, you
know, it seems like it was sort o' talking1
to me in' the stillness." The deacon looked
thoughtfully at the fiery back log. Mary
fidgeted uneasily about the room, "straight
ening table covers, setting back chairs and
.thinking oh, if he only would go to bed !
As lie sat there, his eyelids began to
droop, and his head to nod somnolently.
Mary's eyes lighted up with a sparkle of
hope. I
"Child,", he said, suddenly straightening
himself up in the stiff-backed chair, "you'd
better go to bed. I'll sit up awhile longer
Till the logs burn out."
. "T.ut, father, I'm not sleepy."-
Cto to oeu.
mv chad ! reiterated the
dc
row, with good humored
nthorit
inat
brooked no opposition; and Mary crept out
of the room, ready to cry with anxiety and
mortification.
"If Tim will onlvlkeep quiet a little
while longer," she thought, sitting on the
stairs where the newly-risen moon stream
ed in chilly splendor. "Father sleeps so
soundly and he is sure to go to sleep in
his chair. I could just steal in and release
him as quietly as possible."
She sat there, her plump fingers inter
laced, and her eyes fixed dreamily on the
iloor, white all the time her ears were strained
to the utmost capacitrto catch every sound
in the kitchen beyonjjl. Hark ! was that
the wail of the windi or was it something
to her literally "neaiier and dearer." Yes;
she could not be mistaken now; it was actu
ally a snore. !
Mary rose softly ti her feet with renew-
el Lope. Surely now was tlie accepted
die crossed the hail, opened the kitchen
loor, and stole across the creaking lioards
tf the floor. T,he candles were'lmrued out,
but the shifting lustre of"lhe firelight re
vealed her lather nodding before, the fire,
with closed eyes, and hands hanging at his
sides.
With a heart that beat quick and fast,
like the strokes of a miniature hammer,
she drew the key from her dress-pocket, and
proceeded in spite of the nervous trembling
of her fingers, to fit it in the lock. So ab
sorbed was she in her task, that she never
noticed the sudden cessation of the heavy
breathing never saw the deacon start sud
denly into wakefulness, and look around
him." Love is blind, and it is equally true
it is deaf. The deacon rose quietly up
with a shrewd twinkle in his eyes, and
Marv gave a little frightened shriek as a
hand fell softly on her arm, possessing it
self quietly of the key. .
"Let -rue help you!" said Deacon Shermer.
"Father, I Lfoiuid the key," faltered
Mary. ;
"Found the key, eh?" returned the deacon.
"Well, that's lucky; and now we can find
out what's the matter with the clock." :
Mary's heart, throbbing so wildly a mo
ment or two ago, seemed to stand absolute
ly still as Deacon Shermer turned the key
and opened the tall door of the clock case.
"Hal lo !" ejaculated Deacon Shermer,
as Mr. Timothy Marshall tumbled laugh
ingly into-the room. "So you was the mat
ter with tho old clock, ehf '
"Yes sir," said Tim, composedly, "I
hope I haven't seriously interfered with the
works of the clock."
"You've seriously interfered with mc "
said the deacon, waxing indignant. "What
do you meanr-sir, by hiding in my house
like a thief.".
"Indeed ! indeed ! father," cried Mary,
bursting into tears, "it Wasn't his fault.
He didn't want to hide, but I put him in
there."
"'You did, eli? And may I ask what
for!"
"Father," faltered Marv, rather irrelev
antly, "I love him, and he loves me P
"Is that any reason why he should hide
in the clock-case, miss?"
"'Xo but father ! I cart never marry
Mr. Stanlev. He is. so soft, and I"
Mary's tears finished the' sentence for her.
The deaeon looked down (not unkindly)
on her bowed head and the tender arm that
supported it. Apparently, "the course of
true love," roughly though it ran, w7as over
whelming all his own worldlv-wise arrange
ments in its tide.
"And so you two young folks really
think you love each other!" said the deacon,
meditatiyely;
"I love her with all my heart and soul,
said Tim Marshall, earnestly. "I'm not
rich, I know, but I can work for her."
"And I can work for myself too, father,"
interposed Mary, with tears that shone
like softened stars.
. "And you said yourself, sir," went on
Tim, "that tiro stopping of the clock meant
either 'a marriage or a death.' Of course
we don't wantvany deaths; so don't you
think the most sensible tiling we can do is
to help on a marriage as been as possible!"
The deacon laughed in spite of himself.
"It's late," he said, "Come around to-mor-rov
morning, and we'll talk about it. Xo,
Tl " , 1
l m not angry witn you,
child. I
s pose young loiks
n - 1
will be young folks,
and there's no use try in' to stop them!"
And the deacon re-hung the pendulum,
and set the iron tongue of the old clock
talking'again. Tim Marshall paused on
the front doorstep to whisper to Mary :
"What shall it be Mary ? a death or a
marriage V . - T
And she in return whispered: "aniai-riage,
I hope."
"My darling !" said Tim, "it's worth
passing a lifetime behind the clock-chso to
feel as I do now P ' "i
A YOUNG. MOTHER'S BLIGHTED LIFE.
From the Xew Yo.k Gnipliic
A little Italian woman, with a child in
her arms, hurried through the! gate of the
Eoosevelt-street ferry-house last evening,
and a moment later.. was scarcely discernible
in the dark shadow of the corner in. which
she sought shelter. She was .illy clad, and
the major portion of the. thin, bright color
ed shawl that covered her head and should
ers was wrapped lovingly about the babe
in her arms. Her dress of calico was worn,
faded and patched in places until the ori
ginal pattern was- little more than a patch
itself; yet there were no tattered ends, no
rags. The child nestled close to the mo
ther and babbled in a subdued manner,
scarcely audible a few feet away. When
the boat entered the slip the mother was
the first to go on board. Well-dressed
men and women, and children clothed in
garments of rich, warm texture, filled the
cabins, and the little Italian woman attract
ed no attention, but remained crouched in
the further corner of the forward cabin,
probably unseen by more than the two '.r
three persons immediate-y surrounding her.
Hardly had the boat left the slip when
the chatter incident to a public conveyance
was arrested bv a singing of the first lines
of the ballad "Kathleen Mavourneen." . A
moment later men ceased reading their
papers and listened. All eves were tnrn-
ed to tlie msigniiieant ugtire m the dark
comer. When the last words had been
sung a perfect storm of applause was giv
en, and in return the woman sang one of
her own native airs, a ballad plaintive and
-touching, of one whose home and friends
were far away, while she, the child-widow
mournfully called" on the sea to give back
her dead. Her 1 voice, was marvelously
sweet and clear, and the airfrendered as it
was with subdued stres;fwas very effective.
Several women sobbed aloud, while there
were not a few men preseut who coughed
suspiciously and turned their faces .aside
for, amornent, using their handkerchiefs
"very energetically. That Woman left the
cabin richer by a score of dollars, for as
she glided through the cabin with outstretch
ed palm, bank notes and loose change were
pressed into her hand in lieu of the pennies
usually cast to mendicants for she was but
a beggar. She related her history sub
sequently to a gentleman who inquired in
to her life. She was educated for a public
singer in her native city, Genoa. Her father
was chorister of a popular church. Four
years ago she fell in love with an Ameri-
i ,t r ,111
can who was visiting u-enoa. ner lather
opposed the attentions of the tourist, who,
he said, was dissipated. It was the old
story from that point. She fled with her
1 - t T r n . 1
lover, and a few months later die deserted
her. Bv selling her iewelrv she paid an
emigrant passage to Xew York. Her baby
was born on board ship, bhe searched the
streets for the man she believed her hus
band till she had no hope left. Even if
she found him, he might repulse her. Her
baby was sick, and in devoting herself to
its care she had lost her work. Xow she
was a beggar. Xo, she Would not give her
name; her friends should never know her fate.
The Xoblem a.x's Due am. There was
once a German nobleman, who led a fool
ish and dissipated life, neglecting his peo
ple, his family and his affairs, in drinking
and gambling. He had a dream one night
which vividly impressed him.- He saw a
figure looking at him with a serious face,
and pointing to a dial, where the hands
marked the hour of IV. The figure look
ed at him sadly, and said these words, "Af
ter four," and disappeared. The noble
man awoke in great terror, thinking the
vision foreboded speedy death. . "After
four!" What could it mean? It 'must
mean that he would die in four days. So
he set his house in order, sent for the priest,
confessed his sins, and received absolution.
He also sent for his family, and; begged
forgiveness for past offences. After ar
ranging his affairs witif has man jjof busi
ness, he awaited death. The four days
passed on, and he did not die. He then
concluded the vision meant four weeks. He
did all the good he could, but at the end
of four weeks he was still alive. It ' was
plain now, he thought, that the vision
meant four years; and in the nest four
years he devoted his whole life and fortune
to the improvement of his people, his neigh
bors and the poor, taking ,an honorable
part in public affairs. At the end of four
years he was elected Empercr of Germany,
3fP GLOQM AT 1I03IE.
Above all things there should be no gloom
in the home. The shadows of dark discon
tent and wasting fretfulness should never
cross the threshold, throwing , their large
black shapes like funeral palls over the
happy young spirits there. 0! faithful wife,
what privileges, what treasures greater or
purer than thine! And let the husband
strive to forget his care as he winds around
the long narrow street, and beholds the soft
light illuminate his little parlor, spreading
its precious beams on the red pave before
it. The night is cold and cheerless perhaps;
and the December gust battles with the
worn skirts of his over-coat and snatches
with a rude hand and Availing cry at the
rusty hat that has served him many a year.
He has been, harassed, perplesed and per
secuted. He has borne with many a cruel
tone, many a cold word, and nerved him
self up to energy so desperate, that his
frame and spirit are weakened and depress
ed, and now his limbs ache with weariness;
his temples throb with the painbeat caused
by too constant application; he. scarcely
knows how to meet his wife with a pleasant
smile, or sit down cheerfully to their little
meal which she has provided with so much
care.
But the door is opened, the over-coat
thrown off. A sweet voice falls upon his
ear like a wdnged angel; it flies right into
his bosom and nestles against his heart.
The latch is lifted and the smiling face
of his wife gives an earnest welcome.. The
shining hair is smoothed over her fair brow;
indeed she stole a little coquettish glance
at the mirror hanging in its narrow frame,
just to see if she looked neat and pretty
before she came out. Her eye beams with
love, her dress is tasteful and what?
Why ! he forgets all the trials of that long,
long day, as he folds her in his aims- and
imprints a kiss upon her brow.
A home where gloom i3 banished, presid
ed over by one who has learned to" rule her
self and her household Christianly oh !
he is thrice consoled for all his trials.
He cannot bo unhappy;, that sweetest,
l est, dearest solace is his- a cheerful home.
Do you wonder that the man is strengthened
anew for to-morrow's cares ? '
Woir ax". Mrs. Stevens, the "sweet
story writer," lias, somewhere, thrown off
this eloquent passage :
"Woman, woman ! truly she is a mir
acle. Place her amid flowers, foster her
as a tender plant, and she is a thing of
fancy, waywardness, and sometimes of folly
annoyed by a dew-drop, fretted by the
touch of a butterfly's wing, ready to faint
at the rustle of a bat. The zephyrs 'are
too rough, the showers too heavy; and she.
is overpowered by 'the perrume of a rose
bud. But let real calamity come, rouse
her affections, enkindle the fires of her
heart, and mark her then. How her heart
strengthens itself ! how strong is her pur
pose! l'lace her in the neat oi battle, give
her a child, a bird, anything she loves or
pities, to protect; and see her, as in a re
lated instance, where she falls in the heat
of fierce strife, raising her white arms as a
shield, and as her own blood crimsons her
upturned forehead,' praving for life to pro
tect the helpless. Transplant her into the
k plac
earth, awaken h
to action, and her breath becomes a heal
ing, and her presence a blessing; she dis
putes, inch by inch, the stride of the stalk
ing pestilence, when man, the strong and
brave, shrinks away pale and affrighted.
Misfortune daunts her not; she wears away
a life of silent endurance, or goes .forward
with less timidity than to her bridal. In
prosperity she is a bud full of imprisoned
odors, waiting but for the winds b-f adver
sity to scatter them abroad pure .gold,
valuable but untried in the furnace. In
short, woman is a miracle, a mystery."
t r -r r r nil
HOW A HOME WAS A1ADE. illCre IS,
an interesting story connected with the
origin of one benevolent institution in Xew
York citv "The Strangers' Hest." Many
years ago a friendless lad went to the city
of Philadelphia to obtain employment. He
sought work, and found none. Homeless
and moneyless, without recommendations
and unacquainted with city ways, he was
doomed to that bitter disappointment which
comes to so many who seek to better their
condition in the mazes of a great city. He
slept wherever he could find a semblance
of shelter, and lived on the scantiest food.
In the midst of his wretchedness a resolu
tion was formed that if ever he were pos
sessed of means enough, he would build a
resting-place for those who were as poor
and friendless as he was then. Time pass
ed on; the boy became a man; ho was suc
cessful in business, and he did not forget
his youthful purpose. The result was the
establishment a lew years ago ol "Ihe
Strangers' Rest " in Petal Street, Xew
York. In this retreat those who find them
selves suddenly without employment and
destitute of money will receive a welcome,
and their immediate wants be relieved.
Two substantial meals are furnished each
day, warm bath-roorria are at the service of
applicants, and clean, comfortable beds are
supplied. "Washing i3 done gratuitously
twice a week, and all the arrangements en
courage personal neatness and a sense of
self-respect. In the "Kest", there-is a warm
and cheerful sitting-room, where are con
veniences for writing, books, and newspap
ers. After an early breakfast, those who
desire to find employment examine the ad
vertisements in the morning papers, and
hasten to make early application. Suck is
thft work of one man for the homeless in
New York city. . : i !
A reviewer in the London Spectator do
scribes a new story as "just the sort of nov
elette for a young Jady or a young gentle
man with the toothache."
The Persians say of noiy unreasonable
talk : "I hear the sound of 'the millstone,
but I see no meal."
THE PLEIADES.
"Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising through
the mellow shade,
Cluster like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver
braid."
The Pleiades Were the seven daughters
of Atlas and the nymph Pleione. They
are said to have died of grief for the loss
of their sisters, the Hyades, and the "pd ty
ing gods changed them into stars, in mem
ory of the purity of their lives, ahd as an
eternal testimonial to the power of the
"friendshipsof women,"
This charming cluster of stars is situa
ted in the shoulder of Taurus, which is now
the second sign and third constelkltion in
the zodiac, and may be easily, traced on
autumnal evenings in the evening sky. It
receives its name from a Greek word, mean
ing to sail, because it wra"s considered at
this season of the year, by the ancients,
"the star of the ocean" to the benighted
mariner. ' It is also called the Seven Stars,
and sometimes Virginia?, or "Virgins of the
Spring," because the sun enters this clus
ter in the season of blossoms, about the
18th of May. It comes to the meridian
ten minutes before nine o'clock in the eve
ning of the 1st of January, and then, with
roval grace, this constellation sits enthro-
ned high m the empyrean, and leads the
host of glittering stars that make the winter
sky "tremulous with excess of brightness."
There is a fascination about this group
of stars which is not attached to any other
in the broad concave; there is a mystery in
its history which lends a charm to its spark
ling gems. One of its brilliants has ceas
ed to glitter within the azure depths of
space. What has become of the missing
one among the bright sisterhood? My
thology tells us that Merope married a
mortal and therefore is her star dim among
her sisters. Who was the favored mortal
for whoso love she gave her immortality
and shining place in the starry sky! His
tory is silent as to the details. We once
saw a stereoscopic view of her, as just fal
ling fiom the sky; she had reached the
earth; she lay extended on the ground, the
sleen of death stearins over her beautiful
features, while the torch of life, grasped in
her dying hand, was pointed downward,
and was just expiring. Byron has immor-'
tabzed her memory m
"Like the lost Pleiad, seen no more on earth."
-Mrs. Ilemans has written her eulogy, and
every time we count the shining six Ave
breathe a sigh over the lost glory of the
mystic seTcn.
The names of the Pleiades are Alcyone,
Merope, Maia, Electra, Taygeta, Sterope,
and Celeno. Five of them, of the fourth
and fifth magnitude, are grouped around
Alcyone, of the third magnitude, which,
from being the brightest star of the clus
ter, is called the Light of the Pleiades. On
ly six stars can bo seen with the naked
eye, but the telescope reveals from fourteen
to two hundred, according to its pojver.
One of the first uses that Galileo made of
his newly discovered telescope was to ex
amine this cluster, and, finding there forty
stars, to -triumphantly refute the doctrine
of the human destiny of the universe that
the fixed stars were made onby to light the
eartn.
The ancient poets have celebrated them
as an index of time, and a guide to the sur
rounding stars. Hesiod says:
''When Atlas-bom, the Pleiad stars arise
Before the sun, above the dawning skies,
'Tis time to reap; and when they sink below
The morn-illumined west, 'tis time to sow."
Virgil says:
"Then first on seas the shalloAV alder swam,
Then sailors quartered heaven, and found a iiaine
lor every fixed and every wandering star
The Pleiades, Hyades, and the Northern Car.
Xicnoi,AS I. The Emperor of Russia
Avas very fond of masquerade balls, and one
night he appeared at one, m the character
of the deil, Avith grinning face, horns and
tail, and appeared to enjoy his character
very much. About three o clock m tue
morning he went out, and, throwing a fur
cloak around him, he called a coachman,
and ordered him to take him to the Quay
Anglais. As it was very cold he lell a-
sleep, and Avhen he awoke he found that
the man had taken him in the wrong di
rection; for the Quay Anglais is one of the
most elegant portions of St. Petersburg,
Avhile before him were only miserable nou
ses. Xicholas began to remonstrate, but
the coachman paid no heed to him, and
presently passing through a stone gate-way,
brought him to a cemetery. Then dis
mounting and approaching the carriage
door, he drew a large knife from his girdle,
and pointed it at his passengers throat
saying: "Give me your money and your
furs, or I will kill you!" And do you give
me your soul!" exclaimed Xicholas, as he
threw off his furs, and disclosed his person
ification of the devil. All Russians are
very superstitious, and the coachman was
so terrified that he fell senseless on the
ground, and the emperor drove himsel
back to his palace.
Correspondence.
Reminiscences of a Sojourn of Many Years ia
FOR THE GAZETTE.
the Various Kingdoms and Lmpires oi hurope
so. XII.
Messrs. Editors : We sent our valet
de place to procure us a passage on a steam
er for Rotterdam, Holland. He returned
AA ith -our tickets, and with the word that
wreonust be on board bv 8 o clock tha
night At 7 o'clock that night we took a
cab for somewhere, and were put out on
the bank of the Thames, whence we got
into a small boat with our trunks and were
rowed. It felt to me like we were out at
full sea. At last we came to an old Dutch
hulk. To our surprise wo found that the
cantain, officers, crew, and all the serv
ants spoke only their own language, and
that our English, 1 rench and Uerman dn
not avail anything; so wo could only make
ourselves understood by signs. Rotterdam
is a city of about 100,000 inhabitants. How
" " "mv vmi eveo iu nuiuiuil cUiU Julig"
land, and hov soon one is impressed with
the great change ! The steamer goes close
to the wharf and stops; but the guards are
kept closed, and no one allowed to go
near. Two or three armed policemen then
come on board. I felt all the time as if I
would be arrested. We could neither under
stand nor make ourselves understood. But
at last we found out that they wished to
see if we had passports, and after taking
our passports in their hands "and seeming
ly scrutinizing them, they returned them,
apparently ; convinced as to their genuine
ness. After that, those on the wharf com
menced to put doAvn the gangway with
much formality and piecision. The gang
way was 2 J feet wide, with a bannister on
each side, j After all was arranged, 'the .
guard was taken away. I thought that I '
could run off on to the wharf, as one does
at Philadelphia or New York; but soon
discovered that I was mistaken. We had
to leave the boat single file and at a fune
ral gait. As each man left the boat, and
got on to this narrow gangway, he was
made-to hand up his passport, which waa
taken by one of the armed soldiers or po
licemen, before he could put his foot on
land. Ouii trunks Avere retained, but we
soon received them, after they had been -examined
on the boat. We went to the
Bath Hotel. The proprietor wrung from"
us exactly Iioav many days we would stay,
and then went and reported the same to
tho city authorities, who, through the good
ness of their hearts, graciously granted- to
us permission to remain just that many
days, and sent us a receipt, for ""our pass
ports. Here! I will remark that I have
been? much! astonished, in reading the trav
els of Bayard Taylor and other tourists,
to find thai they show such a disposition to
hide things that any one can Bee in every
day life the humiliation that the people
are subject to, and the disposition of the
governments: Why they have suppressed"
the real condition of things it is difficult to
say; unless that everlasting hobby of Am
erican slavery prevented things from being
shoAvn as they are. I have so far given
things as I could not help seeing them,,
and I intend to continue to so do, though.
some oi tnese accounts may appear rather
plain. 1 lound the Bath Hotel a most ex
cellent house. Like most of the hotels in
Holland and all through Europe, t there
was a table d'hote, and every attention was
paid to strangers, and everything was neat
and genteel looking. Most of the houses
arOjlour stones high, and are built of-bats
and" broken stones, some rough, while oth
ers are a smooth cast, which makes a very
pretty finish. I visited the gallery of fine
arts, and several other places where are-
hung great numbers of pictures, most L oi
which are productions of Flemish artists-
and have those dark brown shades so Pe
culiar to Flemish schools. My friend and
I concluded that we would dispense with a
valet de place, so one morning we went out
to take a walk. We saw so many wind
mills that iwe concluded we would get up
on one and have a hne view ol the place,
and we accordingly went to the door of
one, and, finding it shut, walked around
until we came to where the workmen had
nailed cleats for the purpose of getting to
the Avings to repair them; so Ave made out
to clambeij, Avith considerable risk, up to
the platform at the top. In counting tho
Avmumuis,; w nicn were o in numuer, we
got ratherjioisy, and woke up and brought
out anmniiense, fat Dutchman, who looked
at us with more than astonishment. It
w;as olily then Ave realized our imprudence.
But tiio jovial old soul laughed heartily
over jour embarrassed situation. After wo
had latisfied ourselves with viewing tho
loveTpk'spect, he made signs that he could
show us ii better descent. After we had
gotten beloAy Ave bade the gentleman good
bye with many doavs and loolish gestures.
That cured us of dispensing with -a. valet de
place. Rotterdam is situated on a short
river called the Meuse, which is a mile
wide at the city. 1 he town is surrounded
by a moat that has some 3 or 10 gates. It
has passing1 through it a broad canal, and
the city is intersected by various other ca
nals, so that it rather reminds one of Ven
ice. All these canals have drawn bridges,
and it looks rather strange to see schoon-
ers all through the centre of the city. The
city has a very business appearance. There
are several very long but narrow streets,
which are beautifully built up. The Ex
change is quite a good lo.oking building.
The church called St. Lawrence is quite
large, and one bas a finer view from the
dome, than from any other in the city. -There
are other public buildings, to give
an account of which might be uninterest
ing. Almost all the fine houses have pla
ced on the outside, on each side of the win-doAv-facing,
a looking-glass. Somchousea
have them placed to the fifth and sixth sto
ry. All the dwellings are built on a line
with the Streets and canals, and there are
consequently no jiretty front yards such
as we have in America. The idea
of these looking-glasses is that the inmates
of the room, from arjy part of it, can see
everyone that passes, while at the same
time they cannot be themselves observed,
though they may be close up to the win
dow. Besides the fine blinds ahd curtains,
they have the most gorgeously embroider
ed scenes, which reach one-third op the
window. I have often heard the English
curse the Germans, caUing them "d d
Dutch;" but if there is a time when a Ger
man has a high compliment paid himjit.ia
when he is called a Dutchman. I saw no
people in Europe who appeared more n
dustrious, cleanly, (or, as the Frenchman
would sav. itou3 sont prom eS) polite, obli
ging and happy than the' Dutch. They
remind me of the Philadelphians, for they
appear, to be always washing, and, like
Philadelphia, the city always looks like it
had been Avell washed andfiung out to dry.
YOVAGEUU.