~ @Z ” en yOL. ay. Bhs awe AFTER ogST OFFICE, CHARLOTTETOWN, P, WONDAY. ffth WAY. Cel gun THE EXamMi! CHARLOTTETOWN, PRINCE “CLOSING AND ARRIVAL OF MAILS, AT TH E. ISLAND, eee ae MAILS ( “~ DUI \ Ww } i. 4 8 ad 7. , silay } Pi ay, « New \ fo " . goatee a Wed } , spand | ite y 1 re } . Mi } i \ ‘ v alternate Sut ~ pest 8 } tmhmmencing Sat » i May, y D> I \ , ¢ I 10- DD ‘ } \ ; reat B é : " Wed and =| p.m Sz t ‘ ver? 3 Sa us (rr A 4 . \ ix i ix. weneriad 7 , Sat i Yailly, Sunday ex Ls? srs” ¢ we . wee seord bal Sunday ex tex . eee ‘ ee 8 ‘ : » eee ) S - § sae 5 ; * uw j e >| , s 4) f goelfas ’ a i 1: I Sedeqe \\ | 4 , 1 & B agckley I Friday 4 . 4 a S ecu ( F) 4 { tiers - \ Regis ¥ z $ i s in LACDONALD, Po8timast Husiness Cards. Ay DD. SHIRK! KF, } jactoneer, Commissiog Merchant, BOK ET: AND GENERAL AGENT. 'HATHAM NEW BRUNSWICA. - CONSIGNMENTS SILICITED. “Mr. C. BYRNE. , 3 . Veterinary &: Surgeon, =. & LONDON. GREAT BRITAIN. Bi that be intee : Charlortt ‘ ie ‘ ARVELL BROTHERS, AU? Lio y i es, Commission Merchants, AND GEWERAL AGENTS. BANK BUILDING, QUEEN Charlottetown, P. E. Island JAMES BRENAN, 5 C n fi 7 a] 39 Tin on Hse, Sign, and Carriage Painter, Paper Hanger & Glazier SOLRIS WEST. is. = ‘ ee ; delers 1873 ly H. R. MUHLICS' Kitchen & Galley, Jals 7, Furnishing Depot. ALSO PEALER ‘LL KINDS OF} Ship Work, QCUPPERS Water ( t, Pipes Lead, Figures, Deep-sea and Hand- leads, Lead Cistertis m : W Cioseta fitted up at t shortest not CREIGHTON -TREET;, OPPOSITE UNION 11OUSE, PICTO! A i ’ i a he : ia u2town, June JOSEPH CREAMER, Physician & Surgeon, CIZY HOZEL, CHARLOTTETOWN. Patients atte: ig #@ltaticry » Rtations give to po zg MONDAYS, from i to4 . oi BANGOR HOUSE, PLEASANTLY SITUATED ON North Side King’s Square, SM John, - - - New Brunswick. J H. RUSSEL, PROPRIETOR. F.M. CAMPBELL. eneral VWerechnane COM Miss 1ON A. 3 3 NE’. AUCTIONEER & BROKER TRINITY CORNER, GEORGETOWN, P E.1. Mandard Life ‘Insurance io. VULCAN FOUNDRY GhORGHrOWwWs”N. 7 VES wi weAle AL re 4 WINDL i 34 f "rr, tr eae . > Sad MACHINERY CASTINGS in geoeral al- F676 os head os , Cash Paid YOR ALL KINI of OLD & SCRAP LRON 3. A. RUTHERFORD & Co, June 2 7 mt % ‘ reetowr 6 x Z WILLIAM DODD, Commissio ss Nerchant and AUCTIONEER QUEEN SQUARE, CHARLOTTETOWN. P. E. ISLAND 8t- Lawrence Marine Insur- ance Co. of P. E, Island. Boarp or Dimecronrs Aucuinatp Kexnepy, Esq. Joun F. Ronenrson, Esq. Aftemas Loup, Esq Ratew B. Peake, Es ie - HynpMan. Esq. THomMas Mognis, W. D. Srewanr, fy le i Esq Esq Risks taken daily at their office. Exchange Building. _ FREDERICK W. HYNDMAN, Ctown, March 16, 1874.—ly Secretary. STRAM NAVIGATION COMP'Y'S STEAHMERS! - ar " sana Att an Wan wren A eee ewe | at SL. Lawrence & ill leave the Company's Wharf, wea< ther permitting, as under: For Shediac and Summerside. eacnactr 19+) Re. eer wee wae [ aaa y Tuesday, 1 lay, ut hursday, and Satur- in the morning. Returning from Shediac, Every Wednesday, Friday, and Monday, on arrival of train from St. John. For Pictou and Hawksbury, tvery Tuesday and Thursday morning t five o'clock, and for PICTOU & GEORETOWN, on Saturday, game hour. Returning from Hawksbury: ivery Wednesday and Friday, and from GEORGETOWN, Monday. From Pictou to Charlottetown, ivery Monday, Wednesday and Friday, on arrival of train from Halifax: F. W. HALES. ROYAL MAIL STAGE! e ° 0’ cleck important to Travellers. \ NE ess Team will leave Georgetown « for Charlottetown, on arrival of Boat f 1 Pictou, every alternate Saturday,com- # July 11, and will return to George- Vn text Ly in t ié to connect with b f ] i Ai rders and pat els for the lor Express must left at the ’Neill House,” opposite W. R. Watson’s Q 1 Street, Ch town. GEORGE O'NEILL, Propriet House’ Vernon River. ? ' : >» 1874 1 9 § HERM‘NS & SON. a i aa Fe | “na ii; <a. seli-Hangers, Gan aud Tin-smiths, QUEEN STREET, \PPOSITE WATSON’S DRUG STORE, gRea tae tba b i “a » lie forthe li sl patro at d C1 Cms >t BE } i} ' 4 ¢ , ee 1% ; A neat Asortment ot TIVWARE, KITCHEN UTENSILS &C., &C.. a&ec. {LL ORDERS in the above BUSINESS w + punctually atten led.o in the itely made large p mses ise Buildere, apeat Mark: s,intended ter i tas Fitting, Water Closets, Bell Fittings, &.. &c., sm prepared te SELL THEM at RATES LOW AS UAN BE HAD IN THE CITY , lw it them ut j ! l workmanlike atyl wenld aay, that al i , oa? joa generoue public, W BRANC«&t Orders in THIS OF OUR BUSI NESS will be attended to with Deapateh 4 Lot of Firat Clase WATLR Cf JOLERS o id Sayer’s “rystal Biue, Sald Cy eaper than ever FIRE AND MARINE INSURANCE iMPERIAL [usirance Company Os H1Te + i ~~ OF LONDON. ~ubseribed and Invested Capital £1,965,000 Sterling. _ MONTREAL Mariug Assurance Commpany. Capital and Cash Assets over $1,000,000 The above OFFICES being of UNDOUBT- ED STANDING, guarantee perfect security and prompt payment of losses. | FENTON T. NEWBERY, Agent for Prince Edward Island ly AVOID QUACKS. A victim of early indiscretion,causing ner- ous debility, premature decay, &c., having tried in vain every advertised remedy, has | discovered a simple means of self-cure | which he will send free to his fellow-suf- ferers. Address, J. H. REEVES, 78 Nas- | sau Street, New York. i Ch’ tow n, Jan. 20, 1873. 2% rR Princess of Wales gon detailed in our last chaptay, 2 LL wef o EDWARD. ISLAND, _____ OTR vB WHO SAYS THAT BRITAIN'S NOON owe OY CS utr: Was not worth considerioy ; that tose who She > vould rejoics, not scoff; had discovered my seeret, and krew wished him well that I bad deceived ber!” and [ was sure a way of life could and would IS OER ; ‘ be found, removing him from home-even to | DEDICATED TO SIR GARNET WOLSELEY another country if he chose—in vaia I repres to draw away the hands in which Mary had Who says that Britain’s noon Is o'er sented his mother’s misery, and the shame | hiddeo her face- That British valor’s fed? ' his conduct would bring upon us all. He *No Kate, she did not say so much, it Who says that Britain owns no more would heed nothing ; and after a long ans! weuld have distressed me less, perhaps, a. akon _— zy : X01 8 hour, uselessly spent, 1 returned, Aav- but she was foo deeply hurt to be angry ; she ing done no good, and burdened with the weight of bad trusted me, and found me nnworthy,and the blow was almost more thau she could Defame her as they may, But Britons now are Britons still. a wicked secret. Unfortunately ae ac for aye my aunt was out when I reached home, and | bear. eae itr eau ene Me —— i did not see her during the whole of the | an evil return I have made! ’ So much she loves her ledger lore, day. Itf had, Leould not have concealed; And with a wild burst of tears, the more cnt ee -adie-vaary mere ty grief, and she would have discovered all, | terrible from her usual composure, Mary hicnmdic. as it wae, [ went on doing what] knew was | threw herself forward upon the bed by which wrong, and deceiving her. Oh! tha misery Who says her knee has learned to bow Th To every tyrant crew ? vt Who says the world may wrong her now, _ Nor fear to meet its due? Ihe bane of war she nobly shuns. : : : i For man and Him on high; ‘ied listening for every sound, lest it should But, rouse her—oh, the British guns | bring tidings of his capture—the artitice and ee oe aie oe a : } is f. h =e = aa lie. tm | scheming to secure avd take bis feod. Ob, } 1€h give acheer for Scotland, oe j ib! For brave, for bonnie Scotland: | Kate, the life I ted doting ewe ene | days, although the wretchedness was well | The land that bred a Bruce of yore, That uv tien z a ; hat glorious Colin Campbell bore, | deserved, was more than I could bear agaia, | | or more then you could fancy. | of that time, I have never overcome it. utes, she raised her head abruptly, and seiz» ing Kate’s hand, exclaimed vehemently— ‘Be warned by my example Kate, and never, never, for any good that you may think to gain—for any entreaties or per-uas sions of those dearest to you on earth—have or keep a simfal secret. Let no false reason- ing, no specious words, blind you. What- ever shuns the light of day or truth, is wrong. Whatever you are bid to hide from those who ought to love you best, is ev'l; and they who wou!d counsel differently are enemies. You are a bving impetuous creature, Kate, easily part | was playing—the weak and wicked | led by those you love, and will not, I fear silence | was keepng. Many and many a| me, be always wise in vuur selection of dreal of discovery, the fear of every living | thing or person who approached—the terris | Hurrah, hurrah. for Scotia. anc ; The flag we all adore. neers ’ | not all the unkindness he ever endured was | The blood we shed, like heros tru: In many a bright campaign At Inkerman, at Waterloo, And ‘mid the vales of Spain Such blood is yet in Brit equal to the remorse of one of them; I[ was} eo full of shame and self-contempt for the | Li gs ae ‘ ag I at time I resulv to brave everything, and | friends. You may love and trust fboss who And Britain's contide in my aunt, but the dread of the | who will not merit either; but while you are For sear, ; ae consequences Should my cousin be discovers | candid and open, shunning all secrets and In many a gallant ah of vas ed and fulfilhis thre:tof never being-taken | consealments, you ill be safe. Will you res rhe foremost flag that Britain bore | alive, deterred me. member, will you promise to remember v kn te ao - = h ind liow it was to end | never dared to think, | this?’ e that very circumstance ought to have opens; ‘ Yes, Mary ; only do not look so strangely. Who sees not in th and ed my eyes at once, and determined me to | You are quite hot with excitement. Lie aed ph a: Cea, a a and be frank end honest at any risk, for it must down dearest, and trust me—do trust me!” The dark marauders foiled, be wicked thing we do, when we dare not| ‘Seein what misery end suffering Henry’e ee heute pg 2 cutonn of old, look upon i's end, but was enthralled, had | disobedient impatience, and my weak folly ki OTrmeda the OPiag AMAL 5 so fettered myself, that 1 could not escape are ended. Had J] told my aunt,as I ought from the net | tohave done, he might have been eaved~ ‘Sometimes I feit that anything—even rescued from that bad man’s power—and I better than thie life,| well and happy with her. But now he is though I had not courage to end it by con- | away, living a life of guilt and terror, bis fession; and at lost t-rrib!y e.ough the end mother nearly bioken-hearted, my dear, good came my aunt and I went to | generous aunt miserable, and I am dying.’’ a lecture; and s'tring tl ere I overheard a A long silence ensued: Both cousins were conversation between two men who stood bes | absorbed in refloction, and it was not until SMANENERSAARAAANASAADANANANANNIMNS | hind, which convineed me that Henry had} the evening shadows fell that either spoke KATHARINE. been betrayed, and his hidingsplace revealed. again. Then Katherine asked— { TALE OF WOMAN'S TRIALS. Who had done this treacherous deed I could ‘Did any oue but your aunt know that you not learn, but I heard enough to assure me | had seen Haury ?”’ CHAPTER IV. that his Without looking up Mary answered by a rue heroes that can still Phe glk of the slain. Phen give a cheer for Wolseley, Our country’s pride, our Wolseley, And one for all the valient cor] 3 That Britain’s flag so bravely bore, rhree Irish cheers for Wolseley, and The flag we all adore. : LITERATURE, uphold i had woven. ries deat itee'f—would be One evening retreat was not safe for another “ Kate” said Mary, resuming the convesa- | hour. How I kept up, and restra‘ned the gesture of dissent. ‘the his- exclamation which rose to my lips, I do not | No more was said that evening. Mary ry I will re’ate should teach you patience | know, for I felt as if my heart stood still, | was too enfeebled, and Kate too much ens under trials, and the danger of rebellion, even | and my blocd had turned to ice; but the grossed by her own musing to talk. It was my poor cousin thought of all I had to do strengthened me, | not therefore until afterwards that Katherine itiently, and never and making some excuse that I was not well, | knew Mrs. Jollis was so much grieved by her | niece’s condact—that although Mary believed d frozen, herself forgiven, and that her absence from against a cruel rule. {i could but have borne | slowed himss “ath k of flight, he would | I whispered to my aunt to go. -, o : not have sunk imto-the sin and m/sery he It was a dark nizht, the rain b did, nor should I have been here; buat if his | and the roads and stre:ta were very slippery- | home wes merely temporary, with a view to example and my suffering shall sive you I) Our progress home, therefore, was slow, fur | recovery, it was most improbable that, unless shall die coutented Hows'trange it seems, | my cunt was fearful of a fali; and believing | sammoned to ber death~bed, she and her aunt hat twice in my short life of eighteen years I} me to be ill, watched ny Steps as carefully would ever mest again. should be placed with such dissimliar peop’e, | #8 her own. To me every moment mein No one—not even Mr. Grove who receive! would bave fown if I could, and exch having the same trial to baar, the same | a0 hour; | Mary from h’s sister—knew of her deter- impulse toresist. Oh! how I pray thit, I trembled at every sound—:very person | mination, and it was fortanate. having failed with one, my words may be It seemed as if, with all my | Daring the week succeeding this conversa- suff.red to have power with the other; and haste, I could never be in time, and creeps tion, the sufferer was much worse, and upon that I may not eee both fall into the same | ing as we did, I must bo to late. At last} avother medical man being called in, he se suare! Promise me, Kate!~promise me to | We got home, abd without waiting to tike strongly advised her being taken to London, bear all in pateince and submission, trustiog | the posset my aunt wished to mske for me, | and piaced under ths care of Mr, , that who passe 1. wholly to @cd for release, never seeking to, 1 ran up stairs as if to go to bed. free yourself from lawful—even if unkind— minutes [ gath-red together the little money | a parent for her child, looked upon Mary as mtrol, until you can do so righteously ! If I bat, and the food [ had prepared daring | a presumptive heiress, insisted upon ob-dis }/ the day, and gliding th | ences you had seen the co-row I have, I should uch the great dark I ball, was soon out again upon my road. | have no need to ask a promise.’ Tpeffsctual were all the poor giri’s remon- ‘Mr Jollis was Henry’s father, (he rocky walks were like glass—I could, strarces and entreaties. Mrs. Grove wae res obey ming it I had one. ooly get on by inches’; and my fears and im— | golate, and only conceding-to Mary’s petition “$> you think now; but be very sure, | patience were terrible, Bewildered by thew | g9 fa: as to take Katherine with them, pre- Kate, that nothing you have to bear, Lowever | I took @ wrong turn; and when I scrambled | pared to start immediately. nel is harder than what my cousin bore. | back into the path | heard voices, and saw,| After sma difficulty it was arranged tbat if unkindness of injudicious management by the gleam of a dark ‘antern, that cther®! Jane and her father should precede them; a sould ever excuse disobedience, he might| were on my track. At this sishé I forgot) plan not oily wise but necessary, seeing that : prudence—ererything but the nec2ss! Mrs, Grove had never been in London before, and had the most extraordisary and vague ideas of its size aud habits Her husband, therefore, guided by Jane’s taste, was to ssoure lodzings, and after sesing the family settled was to return home. Under such influence it is not surprising that the rooms chosen by Mr. Grove were gaudy, uncomfortable, and ill-suited to an ins valid ; and that when Mary was lifted out of the carriage by her father, and carried up to the chamber appropriated for her, sha would glance disconsolately around. fea’s, You saw bim again?’ | sity for speed ; * Yes, many weeks after, but eo altered | danger, I reached t' it I scarcely knew him. All hie frank- | Hesry To arouse and make him | hoarted gaiety was gone, and in ita place understand the peril in which he stood was | dificult; for suldenly awakened from slcep | he was confused, and did not seem to coms | have pleaded it.’ * And did he not? ind rushing on carelees of | o'd summersbouse. | was uzierp. was a nervous, boisterous recklessness, most miserable to see. He was hiding—avoiding discovery by the poliee—for some crime of | prehend a word that I said ; and, with every MeEvoy’s, which, without his victim even | moment so precious, this was frightful. 4 wing what it was, he had contrived to} was almost frantic. At last ho beard the fasten upon him. The place he bad chosen | approaching fout:teps, and then he awoke, casa ruined summer<house in the grounds} thoroughly, There was a+teep path on the opposite sid of the building which led to the | river: if gain that, ho knew he/| ofa large empty mansion, near my aunt's, andi! first learned his neighborhood by hav he could Everything was so unhomelike, full of ns @ note thrown in through my window | would be safe, and in @ quick whisper he| meanness and pretence, so unlike the tiny while 1 was undressinz. I knew the writing | told me his intextion, and bidiog me goods room she had left, and Katherine’s care and instantly, although the writing had no sig-| bye, sprang through the window and roshed | taste had made almost charming, that the nature, and simply entreated me to go ses | noiselessly on, He was #0 light of foot, that! poor girl, fastidious and fanciful, as all eick ii cratly to the summer house, taking some | [| was certain if be got a fair start of his purs | people are, turned away with positive dis- | she sat, and moaned. Then after a few mins | * Bat it was with a good motive, surely | and I'll never give in to believe that if she'd | she could not be angry?’ said Kate, trying | really been as bad as she thinks she’d have | ¢ tee MONDAY, AUGUST 31, 1874. - “~ —- —< ae we | * She s been il] and was jast as peekety when she came home as she ig now; | i such & time, lasted so long; and as she hag, please good- | INDIANS. ne [From the Montreal Herald. A few days ago we had occasion to repub | lish the opinions of an American contem: | | a8 they shoot out of the grounds a | NO. 35. re een it ta the spring, and sprmkleit on hs p It will not only add to their food, but will serve to keep off the legion of insects which prey on the-tender leaves. Whenever you cut your potatoes for planting, place them in a _negs we’l! have her strong end hearty yet!’ | porary as to the paramount excellence of ; barrel, and while the cuts are fresh sprinkle | all such speeches, frequently made in her | was her remark tothose who fain would rouse | } her t> a sense of her daughter’s danger. To | presence, Mary’s only answer was a 8 7h. | | Her mother’s society brought tile com ict | | | | | j > Ob, my dear, dear, kind aunt, what | '° her, and her conversation less, theretore, she never repived when, day after day, 1s | soon as breakfast was over, Mrs. Grove and | Jane, having first given full sud impressive | orders to Katherine totake good care of her | cousin, went out to see sights avd parchase | bargains, preparatory to leaving Loudon, | It was stranze how obstinately the mon | ther’e eyes was ciused agaist the percepts ion of what was so plainly coming—stranze | to see the showy dresses she persisted in | buying, as ifdeath and mourn'ng were mats ters with which she could not poss bly have any connection, It was a melan:!o'y blind- ness, for the unhappy woman, who was s)| soon and sad'y to be awskened from it; bat 8 happy one to Mary, since it procured the peace sea could never Lave enjoyed had her mother seen what to ail other eyes was so | palpable. To be continued. GRIT DESPOTISN, Alexander Mackenzie has but two modes of overcoming opposition—with bribery and | persecution. When former fails he | inyariably resorts to the latter. British Columbia having rejected a semivofficial | proposal to modify the terms of union, is | now suffering the Premier’s vengeance. | The Ottawa correspondent of the Mainland Guardian, a most servile Ministerial hack, says Mr. MacKenzie is well satisfied with | the rupture between Mr. Walkem and the | Combination, since he is now “ happily res lieved from carrying out the proposals to | which, fora time, he stood committed by Mr. Edgar’s letter to Mr. Walkem, of Apri! | last. What may be the result to Columbia of that rupture of negotiations which freed | Mr. Mackenzie’s hands, and of which he showed such promptness, nol fo say eayers ness, to avail himself, is not yet easy to say, It 1s pretty certain for one thing that | the ground will not now be broken upon the Paiifie Railroad anywhere west of the Rock y | Mountains until a survey of Columbia and all | possible vailway routes through it is mad quite satisfactory to the Dominion As to the choice of routes, that would have been irrevocably settled, as to part, had the proposals made through Mr. | Edgar been accepted. Now, judging from | the present aspect of affairs and movements | of surveying parties. it is quite possible, if | not even probable, that the route will quite | cross the Province north of the great bend | of the Fraser; and that the termmus will | be on the Pacific coast far north of the latis | tude of any part of Vancouver Island.” Governs | ment. The correspondent no doubt speaks ‘ by the card.’ fused to negotiate with an irresponsible | agent, is now informed that she is to be | mae : ° { British Columbia haying res / In two | her mother, who, besides the natural love of |“ You would not listen to my Edgar,” says i i | | | i | i j punished for her independent conduct. the Premier, “ because I did not give you a guarantee that I would hold myself bound by the proposal he submitted to you! Well, that proposal is withdrawm and you will get no railroad, if {| can help it, for some years to come. I know I dare not refuse to build one, but if I must cons struct it, I will postpone the work as long as possible, and then run the line where it wil be of little use to the settled portions of the Province. braving ME! ”’ of Grit statesmanship which reminds us of a scene we witnessed last session in the | House of Commons. It was after midnight, late in the session; and a very important Government measure was called for second reading. The Leader of the Opposition drew attention to the fact that there was a | very thin House, the measure was exceeds ingly important, and many members who | would like to discuss it, were absent. | Alexander Mackenzie rose, and with all the majesty of a Cromwell, replied: ‘‘ Well, just because the honorable gentleman doesn’t want the bill read to-night, I'll proceed with it,” and he did proceed with it, prolonging the sitting till daylight in the morning, to the intense disgust of his own followers, who gave vent to their feelings Chat is what you get for | This is another specimen | to became a loafer around an agency. | punish them. the British system of managing Indians | over that practised in the United States. In | the article which we quote it was admitted | that a considerable amount of the Indian troubles across the lines had been caused | over them a little of this plaster and give the barrel a shake. The plaster will stick to the watery surface of the potatoes, and our word for it the young shoots will come out of the ground with unwonted vigor. , Soot from the stoves and chimneys is rich by the rings which had formed to assist in | in fertilizing material, and when the stoves the distribution of the State grants, but in reality toabsorb them. The Indians, too, have been driven from their hunting grounds and transported in many instances to sterile and inhospitable regions, the consequence having been that a feeling of hostility to the United States authority has been engender. ed, which in many cases has been manifest. ed by acts of violence, and in others only suppressed by the presence of armed force. Among all these tribes, quiescant or rest- less, there are always spirits who make it their business to increuse this dissatisfac~ tion, and in order to succeed, appeal to the worst prejudices and superstitions. Among the Comanches prophets have arisen who preach a crusade against the whites if the extermination of the red race is to be avoids ed. The influence which such men as these wield is incalculable. Superstition has ever been one of the strongest motive powers In the world, even among races more intelli- gent than the Indian, whose life and cons stant contact with nature make him receive with deep reverence, revelations supposed to be made to the medicine man by the Great Spirit. Let the untutorea children of the forest once become fully possessed of the idea, that the Great Spirit wills itand then will there be indeed an Indian war of extermination on the side of one or the other. Prophets have beforetime come out before the redmen, and we have seen the result, notably in the great Minnesota massacre. As the New York Herald says : “The redman perceives very clearly, that unless he checks the advance of civilization he will be swept by its tide out of existence. It is natural that he should object to make way for the pale face,and that he should pre fer to die fighting like a warrior than perish miserably by famine and disease. So far the boasted Christian civilization of the white man has brought only death and de- gradation to the Indian. Why it should haye been so is not difficult to dis- cover ; but why this, so great a reproach, | . . should be permitted to continue, cannot be answered so satisfactorily.” [t has been said that the Indian cannot be civilized, but how many instances have we not had and have we not, now, that he is capable, not only of civilization, but of a high degree of education and refinement. We have numerous Indian reserves, par- ticularly in Ontario, in which we tind Indians —individuals if you will~almost, if not quite as good settlers as the whites, These are proofs that the whole race is susceptible of improvement, if it is only attempted in | the proper manner. Certain itis that the same rule would apply to the United States. | If the Indian be the ward of the nation, as | is pretended, do something more for him than supply his physicai wants. He should be trained toa more useful purpose than ‘The true solution of the Indian question, says the Herald, must be found in persuading the to the nomadic life which they followat present, This, it says ‘might require the sacrifice of some mils lions of dollars in the beginning, but would tribes abandon | be amply compensated for by immunity from costly Indian wars and the gradual | lessening of the annual burden as the tribes | advanced in civilization and become ‘ Of the out-look at present At present the supporting.’’ the same paper says: ~-“ duty of the Government is clear. | dications point to the outbreak of an Indian war of unusual proportions ; and while mili. tary expeditions are prepared to operate against the hostile tribes care should be | taken not to leave the frontier unguarded. | The concentrations of troops already effect~ ed appear to expose the settlers in the | Platt and Republican valleys to attack from the hostile Indians should they try a flank movement against the troops marching to If this be so the Govern- ment should not delay in ordering the troops to this point.’’ This alarm does not | appear to be ungrounded, as it will be re- | collected that some few days ago Sioux | of Poland, but was introduced there from a from the North-West, who had been hunt< self. | All in- | food, for the writer had tasted nothing dure ins the last three duys.’ : And you went. ‘ Yes, but I was wrong. and yet I had not courage to refuse.’ I knew it at the time tine, ‘ Retusa would have been crue!.’ Sol thought, aud therefore | went secrets | ly, aa I had bean asked to do, altbough my | conscience told me that I ought not to con- | cea! it from my aunt; and that now, in time | of temptation, I ought to act upon ber res | peated warning thatsceret things are almost | I | any pain, rather than be found where I was. | him the food Le wanted, and some wine, | }as 1 would, lcould sot walk,aad bad just always wrong. But, however, [ did go. toox fo: the weather was bitterly cold.’ ‘Poor fellow, how giad he must been to see you!’ cried Kate, bending fo ward with eager looks. «Yes, almost as glad as | was griervel. | never any one $9 alterd as the little time be had been away had affected him, in saw manner as wellas appearance; and [ was frizbtened at the change. At firet he laugh- | ed at my dismay; bot when he saw how | very, very miserable his reckless language | made me, he changed again, and in bis sors | row told me all—how he had beea mitled | and deceived—made a tool and victim, and | caught in euch a deep and crafty web, that | be could neither escape for the future, nor | justify himself for the paet.’ ‘Bot if he was ionocent, surely be could | prove it?’ | * Alas! Kate, he would not try. Dreads ful as wasthe thraldom in which he was held by McEvoy, and bitterly as it chafed him, yet there was at times a terrible free- dom and lawlese gaiety, which drowned | thought and remorse, and which were pres ferable to the iron rule of home. In vain I} ! Oh, Mary, bow could you? It have | r-| when the door was thrown op*n and three | suers he must escape, and when five minutes passed and sileace remained uubroken, I felt secure, and began to think the men had mistaken their way, and that | could return urseen, “ut the moment I attempted to walk, I found that the pain csused by the was excessive, and that I was nearly helpless. Ob, how frightened I was! In my eagerness to save Henry I had never thought of mysel!—the effect my being there alone at such an hour would have ; and now the shame overpowered me, and made me fee] that I could encounter anything, bear movement ‘But fruitiess wasa’l my resolution! Try gunk upon the seat which Henry had quitted, men entered. ‘ The light of their lanterns feil upon my face, and they recognised me instantly, pro- nouncing my bame in accents of astonish» | ment: ‘J made no reply ; but without pausing or waiting a moment, they proceeded to search | the summer-house. How fearfully my hear, | beat during their absence, lest some trace of | mp poor cousin’s visit should be left to bes} tray him, but all were gone, not a sign was | to be found, and they returned puzzled and | dissappoicted. * After looking carefully into every corner and recess of the room where I sat, they bes gan to question me, but fortunately the pain I was enduring, and which increased every moment, became so evident, that supposing I bad met with an accident and bad thus) been rendered unable to return home, they | ssid no more, ouly offering to assist me themselves, or send some one from my aunt’s | ‘ With a desperate effort I rose to accoms through, God bless you for it ! gust. ‘Do open the wiadow, darling,’ she whie- pered to Kate whan they were alone, ‘and then come and sit beside me. Let me have one bright thing to rest my eyes upon.’ The next day Mr.——came, and in the evening his patient’s father, sad and sorrows ful returned to Birmingham; for the great sarzeon, fully coinciding with the opinion of that of his country colleague, had as. surred Mr’ Grove that his chi'd’s days were numbered, This opinion enraged Mrs. Grove exceed- ingly, and in her wrath she would have cals led in all the surgeons she could find, if her hasband, exerting his authority for ouce, bad not peremptory forbidden it. Mr. had introduced a physician, to whom he aaid the case properly belouged; and had etrongly arged Mr. Grove not to allow his treatment to be interferred with. A few days’ rest therefore, to reerait Mary’s strength after her journey and prepare her for another, and then it was arranged between her father and ir.——that she should be taken home. ‘Be careful of her, Kitty dear,’ said the sorrowful man, wringing bis niece’s hand as he parted from her in the passage—‘I leave her to you, for you have been her nurses all And sie is the best child I’ve got. Have what you want, spend whatever you like, only don’t let her know the mies of anything—here’s a ten pound note, I ain’t afraid to trust you with that, or twenty times as much, 6o if you want more you kuow where to write for it.’ To do Mrs. Grove justice, she really did not believe the surgeon’s report. She had never been ecriously ill herself, and although she could understand suffering from fever, entreated, and even prayed to him, showing | pany them, but stumbling over a broken | small-pox, or « broken limb, she coald not him the danyer of the course he had com, menced—in vain [ implored him to sce and | garden tool, I fell, and I suppose fainted, for | when I recovered consciousnes? I was lying | conceive danger from an anseen cause. She had great faith in energy and determivation, by kicking the desks and pelting blue boots at the Minister of Militia. Such is Grit Statesmanship.—Ot/arve Cilizen. MISMANAGEMENT, RAILWAY The mismanagement of ing forth protestations from the press and people of those Provinces. The Truro Sun of late date expresses itself songly—as having our public works conducted as like to know it. We think it savyours strongly of the most flimsy, foolish, parti~ zanship ever perpetrated in these Provin- ces; Nova Scotians being made to stand kicked about from post to pillar, while ims mediate friends of the powers that be, are men who have been long in the service. we did not feel that such was the case, we should be sorry to say so, as we have no political ends to serve, but when incident after incident is forced upon our notice, shown, we can draw no other conclusions: the will in the manner he was? We know superior to many of those who have recent- division, where he had the good will and | confidence of all our people from Halifax | | to Pictou banished away up North into the | | frosen regions near Rivere-de-loup? Why | thus banished from home and kindred?) Is there any thing wrong about him? On} the contrary we hazard the assertion that | McKenzie, | Brydges &Co. in the matter of the Nova | Scotia and New Brunswick Railway is calls | follows .—We believe in economy and in | cheaply as possible, but if there is somes) thing more than economy in the present | turn out on our Railways then we would | pitch-forked into positions above better | If | Why, we ask, was (eorge Taylor forced to | that this record as a Railway man is vastly | ing across the lines, reported that there was | much perturbation among the aborigines, and that they were preparing for the wars path against the whites. AGRICULTURAL, hia sinners ed ht accinibie PERTILIZERS., We have never found any fertilizer that stood the test so well as barnyard manure. Guano and the phosphates answer a good contain all the elements of good manure. | in their place; but the objection to all spe- | do not furnish plants with the required va- riety of food and do not render the soil light and porous, as domore bulky manur- |es. The thorough irrigation of a garden, the laying it up ina finely pulverized, porous state, so that it will absorb air and moisture like a sponge, is a matter of great impors | tance and seldom fully appreciated by young the blunt of the whole business and be | gardners. This porous condition of the soil enables it to absorb from the greater reser- voir of fertility, the air, a vast amount of plant food. Plants cannot, however, live on air alone, anid many suburban gardner, who keep no stock, are constantly enguir- ing: ‘ Where can we get fertilizers?” We answer : lf the home resources are carefully utilized, there will seldom be any necessity for purchasing commercial mapures. As good poudrette can be mannfactured at wherein the most extreme partiality is | home as by the Lodi Manufacturing Com- |pany. The slogs of the chamber and the kitchen, if placed on a compost heap, would go far toward enriching a small garden. If a few hens were kept (and no family with nery), the droppings of these fowls will be : é | found better than the most of the purchas~ ly been promoted abeve him. Why was ed guano. To economize and extend this | '% Arthur S. Busby taken away from this | domestic guano, the bottom of the hennery | 8°l should be kept well lined with fine char- | coal or plaster or coal-ashes, something that | will absorb the volatile portions of the man- ure. Common sods from the road side are excellent for this purpose, and leaf-mold from the forest is supersexcellent. If a garden is old, and seems exhausted from long-continued cropping, a coating of well-~ rotted muck or leaf-mould plowed in will purpose for a few years, but they do not | Woodsashes and plaster are also excellent | cific and concentrated fertilizers is that they | a garden-plot should be destitute of a hen- | copfile in my aunt; he would not listen. | upon my own bed, with my aunt and @ sur- | believing that most illnesses could be thrown He told me be was miserable, that he hated | geon beside me. | off by resolution ; that the determination not aud despised his leader, companions, and) ‘For many days alter this | remember to be ill gives people the power to prevent bimse'f, but that he would die rather than nothing, only that my aunt appeared always | it—and in thie most humane view Mre Grove return and be again subject to bis father’s | near me, and in in very depressed spirits. 1) is certainlynot aloue—snd therefore although tyranny, and the contempt of everybody | wag to ill to heed this much at the time, and | she saw Mary grow paler and thiuner—if one he is one of the best men onthe whole | sometimes give it a new lease of life, and brought it about. And thus we mig’t go | through the whole list and show that our line and that the cause of his removal is | We will warrant 2 rejuvenation if, together | stu with this muck or leaf-mold, the garden is rate of fifty bushels of unleached or twice this amount of leached to the acre, ashes should be placed near the surface of who knew his guilt. I could say, reminding him that the con» | I could ever hope to be again——that I learned Useless was all that | it was not until I became better—as well as) who ie already a shadow can become less— she would not be persuaded that she eould tempt of those who ridiculed repentance | the reason of my aunts’s altered manner, | Not recover. railway system as at present worked is nos | thing but a huge rat-trap, which we may | possibly do on a future occasion. the soil. Plaster (sulphate of lime) is one of the cheapest of fertilizers, and we advise | and pipes are taken down in the spring they should be cleaned and the soot carefully saved, This dirty stuffcan easily be change ed in the garden into luscious melons or still more luscious peaches. Old mortar from the kitchenwalls or any other old | walls is rich in fertility. It has been abe sorbing gases for years, and should never be thrown into the street, a» is to often the cease. If your neighbors throw their old mortar away, gently rebuke their wastefule ness by appropriating it to your own and send them a few tomatoes or a dish of strawberries, with a extra coloring and flavor derived from this old mortar. We might go on indefinitely enumerating these home resources for fertility; but we have said enough tor tha thoughtful and the heeds less would not be benefited should we say more.—A. Hyde, in Independent, Har.—All observing stock~keepers know that all animals subsisting on pasture and and hay are fond of variety: that all ani- mals, however liberally supplied with the best of hay or the richest add most suceus lent pasture, will eat more or less of coarse, woody and unpalatable grass and hay. It is common to see horses and cattle, and even sheep, that are liberally fed with the best of hay, eat straw and corn fodder with avidity fors change. It has been a general prac- tice to mix clover and timothy, also clover and orchard-grass seeds, for both and meadow. It is claimed by many that the'last two mature so nearly atthe same time that they are adapted to being grown together for hay ; bat I have not found such to be my experience. They do not reach the most profitable stage for hay si- multaneously, and to cure them most profit ably they require an entirely different pros cess. My greatest success in curing clover has been mainly by fermentation, with very little sun or air, but in making orchards grass hay | have been most successful when I have thoroughly teddered and aired it; and [ have never succeeded in making a good quality of hay of it by curing it in the cock. The same is true of clover and timothy when grown together, the clover matures much earlier than the timothy, and the former being generally the greater crop of the two, the first year itis cut for the clover, and the timothy has very little weight or valve that early. When each variety is sown separately each may be hars vested in their proper stage of growth with, out loss of cutting another variety prema- turely. The hay of the various kinds may | be stored separately, so that all may be ac- | cessible, and thus the feed of animals may | be changed as it is desirable.—Cor. Gers mantown Telegraph. WALKING HORSES. | One of the most desirable and valuable gaits for a horse is a walk, and it should be the aim to first develop this gait in the handling of the colt. The good walker will always make good time on the road when a day's journeyis to be made, without wearying himself, while the slow — must be constantly kept on the trot if is tobe made, A horse that will walk five miles per hour will go as far in a day, cons fined to this gait, ss an ordinary horse can be driven when kept half of the time to the trot, and with much greater ease to himself... If one-half the pains were taken by farmers’ boys to make fast walkers of the youngsters on the farm that is usually | taken to make them trot, the result would | be much more beneficial, and we would find plenty of teams that could do their tive miles an hour with ease. But instead of this, as soon as the colt is bridled, the sole aim of ‘the boys’’ is to make a trotter | of him, and both gaits are spoiled. Make the colts walk, boys; make them |extend themselves in a long sweepin square walk,and don’t be satisfied wi | anything less than five miles an r. When he gets to trotting he will go all the faster for this preliminary training to the walking gait, and if he cannot trot fast | enough to best Dexter, or Goldsmith Maid, | er Occident, he will*haye a gait that is in- | valuable for business pur We ho | to see more attention paid to fast walking than heretofore, and we nee urge upon agricultural societies the importance | of offering liberal prizes for walking horses at the fairs for the coming year.—-Nalional | Lire Stock Journal 2; ==: oe Dirrerence Between Rep anp Warte | Wurat.—It is said that the hard wheats are all natives of warm climates such as Italy, | Sicily and Barbary. The soft wheats are from more northern climates, such as England Russia, Belgium, Denmark and | Sweden. There is, however, one excep~ | tion to this generdjgrule, as the celebrated | Polish wheat is har®, and for this reason it has been contended that it is not a native t milder climate. The English atmospHere ‘isso humid that it is impossible to ripen | wheat hard, but in many cases it requires | artificial heat to harden it before it can be | ground into flour. Different soils and | climate materially change the nature and | variety of the wheat. The difference bey tween red and white wheats is not in variety, but is owing chiefly to the variety _of soilon which it is grown. A generous | dressing of wood ashes ‘applied to the | growing season will exert an excellent ins | fluence in rendering wheat of a lighter | color than it would be without potash, | Lime is excellent also for the same purpose, | —New York Tribune, — —-_ “7]F 1 HAD LEISURE.” ‘If [had leisure. | would repair that weak place in my fence,’ said a farmer. had none, however, and while drinking cider with a neighbor, the cows broke in and im- | jured a prime piece of oats. He had leisure | then, to repair his fence, but it did not bring | back his oats. ‘Jf I had leisure,’ said a wheelwright last winter, ‘I would alter my stovepipe, for I | know it is not safe.’ But he did not find | time, and when his shop caught fire and | burnt down, he found leisure to build an- other. | ‘If I had leisure,’ said a mechanic, ‘{ | should have my work done in season.’ The _man thinks his time has been all occupied, but he was not at work till after sunrise ; | he quit work at five o'clock, smoked a cigar after dinner, and spent two hours on the | street talking nonsense with an idler. | «ff 1 had leisure,’ said a merchant, ‘I | would pay more attention to my accounts, | and try and collect my bills more promptly.’ |The chance is, my friend, if you had _ you would probably pay less attention to the matter than you do now. The thing lack~ ‘ing with hundreds of farmers who till the ia, not more leisure, but more resolutis |on—the spirit to do, to do now, If the | farmer who sees his fence in a poor condi- | tion would only act at once, how much might be saved? It would prevent breechy cattle ‘creating quarrels among neighbors, that in | many cases terminate in lawsuits which take | nearly all they are both worth to pay the | lawyers. The fact is, farmers and mechanics have / more leisure than they are aware of, for dy and the improvement of their minds, | They have the long evenings of winter, in anything but honorable to those who | dressed with a coat of wood.ashes, say at the | which they can post themselves op oa ‘the improvements of the day, if they will The | take well conducted agricultural jo’ ‘and read them with care. The farmer who fails to study business and then gets sha’ has none but himself to blame,—Cor. NV. £, | every gardner to secure a barrel of plaster | Farmer. See ee ee ee