a THE EXAMINER. VOL. \ = CHARLOTTETOWN, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND, MONDAY, AUGUST 8, 1874. ~ CLOSING AND ARRIVAL OF MAILS, AT THE POST OFFICE, CHARLOTTETOWN, P. E. ISLAND, APTER MONDAY, ttth MAY. — — MALLS CLOS] DUE. Nova S Monday. W: sdlav a Monday, Wednesday. an : Friday. p | Friday, 6 p.m gatario,Qaucd New Br'ns- ) M ee & Frid m.jMon., Wed... and Friday, wick and United States, 4 10-30, p.m Eve Ite Friday, n-| mencing Friday 15th . M ay at 9 p. 1 About every alternate Suat- Gre B .. iX Supplementary m every i tinday, commmencing Sat- ernate Sunday, 2-50, p.1 urday, 16th May, 10 p. m., my? ot Sun Trl 7 Ma Creat I 4 via Queo | ! ' Friday, 10-30, p. m ‘ Great I 1? Monday, W . 1 Mond., Wed., and Friday, States ‘ Friday, 9 } 10-30, p.m. New! 4 West ? Same as G Britais viajSame as Great Britain, via Indies ‘ Halitax. Halifax. ggmmers 2 Daily, Sunday e 2 Daily, Sunday excepted, 2 ate off ae p.m. Georgetown a » Da Sunda , Daily, Sunday excepted, 2 ate es ‘1 p. m. West Fignish, A a~w sday.Saturday, 9 p. m. Tuesday, Friday, 2 p. m tet ‘ Fast St! 3.8 5s.) M vy. The Wednesday, Saturday, 7 p.m. &ec. ) Sout M ~>M I Wednesday, Saturday, 2 p.m Belfast. & ‘ B »M Ww s aM Wednesday. Friday ‘ ) 2 p.m Brack ul. 2 M I . Puesday, Friday, 9 a. m & ) Pisqu Johns 3] »F 2 Friday, 10 a x y s Regis . pos 8-30) ) stag 1 Registration fe s ‘ I "ostag $ News s s for ¢ livery must be pre-| sid Letters t Box 1 Steamers up to the time of their | a A. A. MACDONALD, Postmaster. os I I Ma 74 P. E. ISLAND Business Cards. Mr. C. BYRNE, yr. Vv STEAMERS! a. - \ Veterinary Surgeon, Summer Arrangement A - On and After Tuesday, 12th Mav. rHE sTEAMERS SL. Lawrence & Princess of Wales leave the Company's Wharf, wea- S.A, &e LONDON. GREAT BRITAIN. vo nace ther permitting, as under: ae @ ,Q . = ae so Por Shediac and Summerside. Charlottetow i Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Satur- day,at o'clock in the morning. Returning from Shediac, Every Wednesday, Friday, and Monday, on arrivai of train from St. John. Por Pictou and Hawksbury, Every Tuesday and Thursday morning at five o'clock, and for PICTOU & GEORETOWN, on Saturday, same hour. CARVELL BROTHERS, AUCTIONS ERS. Commission Merchants, AND GENERAL AGEMTS. BANK BUILDING, QUEEN STREET Charlottetown, P. E. Island JAMES BRENAN, House, Sign, and Carriage Painter. Paper Hanger & Glazier SOURIS WEST. H. R. MUHLICS’ Kitchen & Galley, Every Wednesday and Friday, and from GEORGETOWN, Monday. From Pictou to Charlottetown. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, on arriyal of train from Halifax F. W. HALES. ly e Farnishing Depot. ALSO DEALER IN ALL KINDS OI! important to Travellers. . r —_— Ship Work, A. 8 Express Team will leave Georgetown OCUPPERS ar Water Closet. Pin + for Charlottetown, on arrival of Boat Ss a F al “D cia iam ait Shad from Pictou, every alternate Saturday,com- = Ls : em : ‘ ep i | i mencing’July 11, and will return to George- Phones Se es ees ae ~~" town next day in time to connect with boat sets edup a ie shortest notic: ng Naosccn CREIGHTON STREET. NOTE All lers and parcels for the OPPOSITE UNION HOUSE, “ily mail or Express must be left at the | ** ONeill House,” opposite W. R. Watson's ricTtow. N. Ss. Esq.. Queen Street, Ch'town. Ch’town. June 1 =74 GEORGE © NEILL, -“ . Propriet JOSEPH CREAMER, Halfway House” Vernon River. } dune 29, 1s; h 2m Physician & Surgeon, HERM‘4NS & CITY HOTEL, | ON, CHARLOTTETOWN. 5 risine cacao pot gowns» Bell-Hangers, Gan and ‘Tin-swiths MONDAYS from 1 to 4 p m. uu My 3 j April 20, 1874.—tf QUEEN STREET, OPPOSITE WATSON’S DRUG STORE, BA N R H 0 J S E aye to return their thanks i 1e seneral j public forthe liberal pa re extended PLEASANTLY SITUATED ON o them since their commence rs : ask for a continuance of the same Phey North Side King’s Square, rave stanty on hand 4 neat Asortment ot TINWARE, KITCHEN UTENSILS &e., &¢.. &c. {LL ORDERS in the ab BUSINESS be punctually attended io Having St John. - - - New Brunswick. J H. RUSSEL, PROPRIETOR. F.M. CAMPBELL. General Merchant COON VIIiMSS TKN ANCL ELNOT, AUCTIONEER & BROKER TRINITY CORNER, GEORGETOWN, P. ELL. AGENT FOR Life Insurance (Co. Sept. 1, 1873. 1 VULCAN FOUNDRY ve w lately made large purchases in the ach as Gias Pitting, Water Closets, Bell Pittings, &.. &€., Pur Mandard Orders in THIS BRANC#i NESS wil! be attended to with Despatch GEORGETOWN. band. ps0 pny yolesale and reta WINDLAS: SAVER’S CRYSTAL PLUE, Sci MACHINERY CASTINGS general ai ways on neil, or cupolied of the shortest netics Sold Cheaper than ever Cash Paid Nov. 11, 1871 FOR ALL KINDS of OLD & SCRAP IRON J. A. RUTHERFORD & Co, FIRE AND MARINE. June 2. 1473 Georgetowr WILLIAM DODD. INSURANCE. Commission Yerchant and serrate | IMPERIAL Fire Lusurance Company OF LONDON. Subscribed and Invested Capital £1,965,000 Sterling. MONTREAL Marine Assurancs Company. Capital and Cash Assets over $1,000,000 AUCTIONEER QUEEN SQUARE, CHARLOTTETOWN, P. E PRINTING. Power & Gordon Presses, And a Good Variety of The Newest Styles of Type, ISLAND The above OF FICES being of UNDOUBT- ED STANDING, guarantee perfect security and prompt payment of losses. FENTON T. NEWBERY, Agent for Prince Edward Island Ch’ tow n, Jan. 20, 1873. ly AVOID QUACKS. A yictim of early indiscretion,causing ner- vous debility, premature decay, &c., having tried in vain every advertised remedy, has We are prepared to do al! kinds of BOOK & FANCY JOB PRINTING ¢n the Lowest Terms, at the EXAMINER OFFICE. which he will send free to his fellow-suf- erers. Address, J. H. REEVES, 78 Nas- sau Street, New York, POETRY. isthe irnitnntiriahinant tata ensmtnin Marinas NOT THE RIGHTEOUS, BUT SINNERS Comrades, that ‘ight in life’s desperate bat- tle, Marching in mud and mire, laden with care, Hearing the cries that rise over war's rattle, Blind with its smoke and confused with blare, Though ye be stricken sore, lo, where the standards soar! Faith, Hope, and Charity, Duty and Right, Close round each precious flag, though it be but a rag, Tattered and rent, bear it on in the fight. Stumble and rise again! Let the blood fall like rain— Wounds in the battle have smart Flight is but folly; give volley for volley; God helps the soul that does bravely its part. no time to Ave! and his love raises up e’en the dying! Buts in the timid a heart that won t quail, Cheers the despairing, and rallies the flying ing, Comforts us, strengthens us, knows not to fail. Comrades! with sucha guide, say, shall we turn aside, Lay down our arms and submit to be slaves; After our heavy pains put on still heavier chains, Chains that will bind us when cold in our graves? No! step out lighter boys; grasp the sword tighter, boys; Shoulder to shoulder press on for the prize, Help one another, and should some weak brother Fall, though we totter, let’s help him to rise. What? Shall a wound, a false step, or fall, daunt us, dying—I hope now that I shall soon die. I heard mamma’s last words—I had her last kiss —uand theo I fell down on the flcor by the bed, and was ill for many days.”’ A long silence, broken only by the deep breathing of Katharine, followed the lat words; and, although the widow's heart ached for the mighty sorrow which hed fallen on one so young, yet there was a brave, enduring look in Katharine’s face, that forbade the commonplace of pitying talk. So the silence went on, until the girl, startled from her reverie by some passing thought, looked suddenly up; aud then, bes coming conscious of her long abstraction, blusked painfully. She felt that her grief had made her rude and selfish, and that, in its indulgence, sho had forgotten everything. Few grown-up people, and still fewer childs ren, would have felt this, or thought othe ~ wise than that so great a sorrow as the deatb of their dearest earthly friend, was excuse suflicieut for any amount of abstraction or negleet of form or ceremony ; but Katharine Nugent’s most beautiful virtue was her up» selfiehness—her ge uine preference of other people’s comfort and happiness to her own— and her generous readiness to sacrifice her own wishes to theirs, All these feeliogs were, to Katharine’s sensitive faney, out- raged by her self-absorp‘ion ; and, with a burning cheek, she was about to express her contrition, when a sudden summons to receive a visitor carrie! away hcr hostess, When they met again, the Captain was near, with a plan anda proporal. ‘I’ve been thinking your journey over in | Not so! we live and die for our hosts’ Lord my mind, lassie,’ he said, ‘ and talking about Things that are common to one and to all, | it with Aunt Betty Give to the freeman fresh reason to taunt |} " s us, | deal too long for you to take alone, even if Cowards that fly at the very first call? you were used to Enzlish ways and customs, which you are not; and, as its impossible | for me to go with you, and present you to It wou'd be a great on high, Trusting His mercy, and pity, aud love, Welcoming sorrow, foreknowing the mor- row | | your aunt myself, I must find some one else STEAM NAVIGATION COMPY'S | Who boast in him if Returning from Hawksbury. ROYAL MAIL STAGE! ‘heapest Markets,intended fur dlouse Builders, lam prepared to SELL THEM at RATES AS LOW AS CAN BE HAD IN THE CITY, A Lot of Firat Clases WATL.R COOLERS on | | not listen to her. Changes our pains to the gladness above. On to the thickest fray! strong make way, Way for the charge of the halt and the | lame! Not unto us, oh Lord, quering sword, Nut unto us, Lord, but unto Thy name! that we bear con- Ah! who can tell of his might but the weakest? Who know His life if not those who were | dead ? not those that are meekest ? Who trust but those from whom Earth's Hope has fled? / } Water from out the stones, flesh on the dry | except my unt Grove,’ and } dead bones, These are his works, God: our Redeemer Press to the battlefield, He is our sword and | shield; On! though our life's blood ensanguine the sod: On, o'er remorse and pain! On, for our way is plain! Those who were last must be first in the | fight. Courage ‘our sinning was but the beginning, God biess our ending for Him and for right. LITERATURE. KATHARINE. TALE OF A WOMAN'S TRIALS. BY MRS. BURBURY. Katharin’s voice which had hitherto been | clear and rapid, full of feeling and energy, | you would like to delay no longer than is now sunk into a broken whisper, thick and low. Her eyes drooped, and her hands were clasped tightly. ‘From the moment she was scized with | the fever. I never left her ; they tried to take me away, but 1 wou'd not go. was dead; and while mamma lay there, no | Even if they bad, it would have been of no use, I should not have obeyed. From the first L knew that she would die. The doctor told one had aright to command me. —wany had, but I had no hope—from the very firet I had none. that she might know me before she died. I heard people say that I should also cutch the } } fever. And then [ was frighteved, not bes cause | might die, but lest it should be before | mamma; so I took all the care of myself I could. to leave mamma ; and [I was quite well to the last. I was who * Late at night the deirium went. alone with mamma, for the woman helped me down, and | sat and watched her alone. The moon wes vers bright, and I could sce every corner of the cabin, everything about, as plainly as if it was day. I saw mamma’s eyes open, and her lips move, and I saw that she knew me. Before then, | used to think that if such happiness ever came I should cry with joy, but when it did come, I was as quiet as if 1 didnot care. I knew] did care, and that my beart beat terribly, but somea how I could not show I called for the doctor,as I had been to!d to do, and he ite | came, and gave mamma something, and, when she closed her eyes and slept, he took me away. I knew what ho was going to tell me. I had heard him @ay it over and over again, thoagh he said it softer to me than I had ever heard him speak to any one before, | but I did not heed that—the words were the same, and I was angry that he had taken me away, even for a minute. I went and will fitthem up in agood workmanlike style | back quickly, and never stirred from mas | fo a generous public, we would say, that all ' OF OUR BUSI} ma’s bedside again. her to awake and speak to mo; I was so wretebed, and many, many times | was) going to move, that she might arouse, but | | the thought of the doctor’s dreadful words | came into my mind, and I was afraid to breathe. At last the long night went, and when it was daylight mamma awoke, She had seen Mary die, and she knew what was going to happen. She told me so, and tried | to comfort me, for now that she spoke I | eried bitterly, and for @ long time I could But when I saw how uns happy aod faint, and weary my sorrow made ber, I tried with all my will to be quiet and attend to what she eaid. She told me a great deal about papa and herself, and Gens ernal Eyre, which I was too miserab'e to ‘understand, for talking made ber so weak | that she could scarcely speak Jouder than a whisper, aud I begged her not to try; but she would not rest until she had told me where to find her sister—the only relative she had in the world—and what to do when she was dead, and I arrived io England. 1 | tried very, very hard to listen, and under- stand all that she wished me to know, but I could not, I could only think that sbe was going. At last she could speak no more— she could only look at me, and hold my | hand, and then | did not ery. was coming—I saw it in the doctor’s face— and | felt as if I was going mad; but! discovered a simple means of self-cure | mastered the wish to scream, and spring an the bed beside her, I held my breath, and was quiet as if | wasdead—I hoped | was | who is trustworthy. Stout men and | | By the bye, though, have you Mary | to nurse her had gone to lie | Oh! bow I longed for | I knew what | { Of course Mrs. Grove does not know of your arriv@l?’ * No.’ ‘Then you must write forthwith. She ought to come up here to meet you; but, perhaps, under the circums'ances, it may be better that you should go to her at once. It was your mamma’s wish thet you should, was it not?’ ‘Te.’ * Of course, then, that decides the matter. any other friends in or about London ?’ ‘No, I donot think I have ang at all, ‘ Bat General Eyre 7° * I never beard of his having any relations except a cousin, whose name I never knew, and who lives in France, and mamma sad that he and the General were on bad! | terms.’ ‘Ah, well, I do not think, even ifsit| that affects you, lassie. A stepfather’s cousin is not likely to inter- were otherwise, | est himself about the counexions by mars riage of a man with whom he i3 cn bad terms ; especially if he hears that she is with her own mother’s sister, who is clearly, to my mind, the fittest person to take charge of her, The only thing, therefore, now to be arranged, is your journey to Birmings ham; you must go under proper care, and at ths moment, I cannot fix upon the per- son to whom 1 can entrust you. Of course | needful?’ ‘ No.’ * Bat you cannot go directly,’ said Mrs. Manon, ‘else ' ‘What?’ asked the Captain, as she paused! ‘Why—but reaily I donot like to mention it, it seems so inhospitable, but Harriet Lennard remember aud bes husband—you | the Leunards, he was pur-er on board the ‘ ow Thames when | me to cheer up, for that ehe might get well | going to Liverpool to see his mother. | will pass through Birmingham on their way, My only hope was, | in her—are They came home and would, I am sure, take every care of | Mise Nugent. Harriet is not very chatty o1 amusing aS @ companion, but she’s a very | good girl, and Miss Nugent couldn’: be in | safer hands. The only objection toth: plan 8, the time being 60 short.’ I did all the doctor told me, except|'’, ,, kat hae | * How long ?’ | ‘They goto,smorrow. I[ would ask them | to put off the journey @ day or two Jonger, if it were not a case of illness, but Lennard is very anxious to sce his mother, and of course Harriet couldn't delay him.’ ‘No, certainly,’ said Katharine, ¢ but if they would take me then, I could be ready { shall vot be tired tosmorrow.’ ‘Oh, my dear child,’ cried the widow, ‘1 can’t think of allowing you to travel again 60 80On at least.’ *But then I should lose this opportunity, and it would be so much better to go with some oue known to you and Captain Elliot ’ *So it would, and that is why I men- tioned it, only I can’t bear to think of your setting off again directly, after such a long | voyage. Il almost think you had better wait | afew days, and take your chance of some other protection offering.’ ‘No, thank you. If thie lady will take me, I would rather go with her. I shall be quite rested by tosmorrow.’ * Your spirit is greater than your strength,’ said the Captain; ‘nevertheless, I rgree with you, that if you are able to travel with the Lennards, it would be infinitely better. At any rate, it is worth making an effort for.” ‘Oh, yes; indeed it is.’ Well, then, [ will senda note round to | Harriet, and ask her to come in this afters | noon, and we can talk it over. Perhaps | they may be able to stay another day,’ said | Moe. Mano. with | love, into your bedroom; there is a cosy | fire there, so you’ can writs your letter, and | then lie down until divner, or longer, if you can sleep. No one shall disturb you ; and | I will take care that whenever you awake, | eomething shall be ready for you.’ | Kinder even than ber hospitable words were the pleasant manner and cordial smile of the widow; so that Katharine felt, when | she was left alone to write her letter, as if something that ehe loved was gone again. | And this letter, what a terrible and difli- | cult taek it was! Like all children, Katha- rine disliked letter-writing ; and about th's letter there was something peculiarly sad. Even to one expert and fluent, the composi- ‘tion of such au epistle as this would have been a formidable task ; but to that young, sorrowful, inexperienced girl, it was a severe ordeal. To write to an unknown relative— You must have a few days’ rest ‘And now come me, one ignorant of all, save her mere existence, —to claim from hera home and tenderness iu the name ot the dead—to fix upon the sen- tences and phrases best caleulated to find favour, and best befitting their relative posis tien of aunt and neice, suppliant and bene- factress—was indeed an ardous undertaking. The more so, that never, until her mother’s last illness, had Katharine heard of ber aunt; and now, whether she were young or old, rich or poor, in * good society’? or in none at all, the girl was utterly ignorant. With thoughts of tie letter, came also vis~ ions of the cabin death~bed; memories of her mother’s looks, and words, and wishes; a craving, intense und passionate, to be with her again, even in death, in her eolemn sea- grave ; or, if that could not be, to look upon ber sister—the being nearest, and of course the most like her in the world—to throw her arms arOund this second mother, and hear the echo of the now silent voice say ‘My child, my child!’ With feelings such as these, no wonder Katharine’s pen ran rapidly over her paper, and that the ill.written, larve-lettered words were full of a strange passionate eloquence. They came strainght fiom her heart—her bursting, loving, trustful heart,; and she neither knew nor heeded that thephrases were unconnected, and the word:,—some of them, —badly spelled. Mamma’ssister—her own sister, and there- fore her image—alike, of eourse, ia looks, and words, and ways,—how was it she had never thought of her thus before ?—how was it that she had voluntarily consented to remain from her this unnecessary day ?—what had she been thinking of ? But now that she had thought—that she did ;emember the great store of joy preparing for her—she woald think of, remember notl ing else. And so, the letter finished and sealed Katharine teil asleep, And to her dreams came a bright vision of angels, wearing the features of hor dead mother, aud leading towards her a fair young ereatare—only by her mortality less radiant and lovely than themselyes,—and the inetinet of Katharime’s heart called her—Aunt. Oh! sad and weary hearts, toil*driven, or bereav- ed, thank God for dream:—for those fair glimpses of the unseen world, which, while they last. or their sweet memories remain, cqualise you with the happy ! Somewhere there is a charming legend— of Germany, I think—of astudent, who, poor, miserable, and hopeless, dreamt one night so bright a dream, that it haunted him all day, rod when evening came retuinced; not, hows ever, as before, but a continuation,—a new chapter, as it were, of a life, in which he played the hero. Night after night this dreamslife went on, each vision taking up the glittering thread where the last had laid it | down, until at last the studert Jived two ac+ tual, real lives, each roing on side by side or rather each commencing where the other cased, and so a'teraating. Dut whata con. trast !—the day all poverty and strugg'es isolation and despondency ; the night all joy and wea!t! » fame, r the dream became peopled with brig} ase, and loye—yes, | shapes, and one the student loved. wonder, then, the day paesed heavily, and | « | the starving youth pined for the night, which | released him from hunger and want, and | gaye him happiness and plenty , weak from positive hunger, the order of things, learning life asa hideous dream, and his visions as | realities. months, and men wondered more and more, what could be the hidden power which kept the poor balfiamished being alive,for to none | Eon had he revealed the darling eecret of his life. At last his fair youug dreamsbride diced, and the frail existence, which had been a} miracle s> long, sunk atterly. He lived | long enough to confess his strange tale to his priest, and then full of a strong Lope to meet his:piritevife, expired. It was lata in the afternoon ripe awoke. happy,—appier than any she had enjoyed since her mothei’s death ; but all the evens | ing after, there Was an abstraction in manner ani words, which showed how deep= she was musing upon her newly-fonnd trea- sure,—the relative whom Ler dreams seemed | ;, to have made personally known to her. In this mood she was introduced to Mrs. | Lennard, who, relieved from any ap; rebens | sions that she might have formed, of finding | her proposed companion either noisy or | | troublesome, willingly consented to take charge of her. | ** Although, time is short,’’ she said, * and | John is anxious to get on without de'ay, | fear | | | ' | that I shall be unable to remaim longer than is necessary to place Miss Nugent in the care | of her aunt.”’ returus | ed Captain Elliot. “ Of course, her aunt wiil meet her at the coach-office; and, judging of | ‘» Nothing more will be requisite,”’ her by the very litule I saw of her sister, | | Mrs. Eyre, 1 am sure that, once in her charge, | no child can be otherwise than happy. She | will not require us then—will you lassic?’’ And the child’s heart, dwelling upon its happy dream, answered— “No.” The next moraing, by the faint light of a | wet March day, Katharine and her chaperon left London. Her kind friends accompanied her to the coach, and the widow’s voice was t:emulous as she bade the young stranger | farewell. CHAPTER LI. THE RECEPTION OF KATHARINE GROVE. BY ‘* Well, if here isn't a pretty thing! I thought something would happen after my dreams last n git. I kuew they couldn't be for nothing. Why, Mr. Grove, who do you think is dead, and has sent her child here, as if we hadn’t plenty to do for our own?" “ Lord ! how should I know? * Why, you’d never guess. sister, Nugent!’’ ** What, that pretty thing that I gave the doll to, when we were married—she dead ”’ “Yes; so this letter says. Pretty, you call ber? Well, I never could see much prettiness in her; and 1 don’t think she’s acted very prettily now—going and dying, Who?” My tali- aud sending her girl, without saying so much | 97? as ‘with your leave, or by your leave. It wouldn’t have made much odds if she had, | suppose; would it? Folks don’t die to order, generaliy ; do they?” asked a heavy-looking youth who sat beside his mother, devouring bis breakfast. it would be a good thing, father, to invoice off a rich uncle or two now and then wouldn’t it 2?” “ Ah! but I guess Kate died poor enough. else she’d never thought of sending her child here. Rich peopie’s children don’t need to go begging for homes.”’ “ No more ought a sister’s, be she poor or rich, Lord knows we've enough of our own; but, for all that, ae good, and we can No] « and that, moti his mind bes | not came enfeebled, aud in the end he reversed | kui to look upon pul So things went on froin weeks to | ' when Katha- | i lier sleep had been long a:d|_ her MR’. | If they do, | afford to give share and s! are alike to one of own kith and kin who wants it ; 80 mak@the child welcome, poor thing, when she comes, there’s a good girl; and now !et’s hear all about it. Poor, pretty little Kate!” The last was an unlucky exclamation ; since the \ery plain and vulgar Mrs. Grove resented beauty in others as a crime; and there was no surer way to her ill graces than than to be more lovely, elegant, or admired than herself. “ Pretty, yee; that’s all you men ever think of; and a nice thing some of you'd make of it with sech nollies for wives. It’s a_ pity you have:,.’t got one, just to teach you—’’ “What, Meg ?—that handsome is a8 hand- some dues! Come, wife, don’t be crose. I shall take to the child for your sake, pretty or ugly, never fear, so now tell me all about her, for time’s short. We've a large order in tosday, and I must be off to the faetory When’s the child coming?’ “Tosnight, eo she says. I never read such a letter in all my life—it’s downright non* sens°, nothing but ‘ dearest and loves and dears all through, aunte,”’ She’s a hypocrite, I°m sfraid, or else a little fool. rare NO. 31 Sch Maca Pe EE THE ARMIES OF EUROPE. War is exceedingly expensive, and soon tells upon the resources of even the wealth- iest nations, but peace, if it be spent in continued preparations for war, is not much cheaper than actual hostilities, while it lacks the stimulus and excitement which war naturally brings in its train. ‘This has been very strikingly illustrated by certain tables supplied in the London Times, in order to show the increase which has taken place in the military force of the principal European States during the last fifteen years. Theamount of industrial capability thus thrown idle and thrown for support on the rest of the community, is positively aps» palling. Nor does it prevent war. It rather tends to provoke it by making neigh» boring countries little better than en trenched camps, and neighboring people ready at any moment to fly at each others’ throats. Thus stands the record :— - be > 2s s m. < 283 Year. ne ea8 s 35” ° > ? fe e bh) DURA iiiececseckews 1859 634,000 443,800 es 1874 °*856,980 °452,450 European Russia. ...1859 1,134,200 694,100 “ 1874 1,401,510 665,810 Asiatic Russia....... 1859 89,950 75,655 - 1874 118,300 87,550 Etaly .........c0.cc:s0-30Oe SLLee Ae - 1874 605,200 322,600 FOCONOE i. 6ssccenvens 1859 836,800 483,700 “ 1874 1,261,160 710,130 France & Algeria ...1859 640,500 438,000 “ 1874 977,600 525,700 BOL PION os siaenes 1859 =80,250 53,800 ‘ 1874 93,590 59,140 Holland 1859 58550 42,200 as 1874 64,320 32,430 Great Britain.........1859 245,800 17,300 as 1874 478,820 71,869 Denmark. .1859 57,550 38,450 u 1874 48,700 30,500 Sweden & Norway...1859 134,900 46,300 “é 1874 204,510 54,910 *Increase 222, * Increase 8,559. The drain upon the population to keep these immense armaments may be seen from the following table, which gives the number of soldiers in the different countries for every million of the population : NUMBER OF SOLDIERS IN EACH MILLION, 80, I never can understand so much feeling and and rubbish. It would have been more to the purpose , | think, if she had written to ask if we'd take her, before dearesting me in this way.’ Ah, she was a goose for that. She should have known what she wa to t for her blarney first, mother ldn’t she? She isn't Ifwide awake, I can see “ How vulgar you do get, Edward !” said lis sister, a tall, handsome girl, dressed in the extreme of showy fashion “ Blarney! wide-awake ! where do you get your words?” Where you get the money for these trum- peries,’ replied Edward, tossing up with his fork the embroidered reticule that lay upon the table, in the shop, where it would d g t J as ee | show jy girls il i f I hould |] ‘] dare say you would,” interrupted Jane, loring- with anger, and snatching away her bag; “but y > not very likely to have what you like. Mamma, if aunt’s dead, shan’t we—you and I, at least, and Pa’— have to go in mourning Why, I don’t know end - imstances a good dea What she’s left ; el laughed the th, a ] was nv - g 10 I 1) p, 5 I i a | lim he - " | B meal Oh, no, Y But, M i ha . nly | thi ! ‘ ! t Peopl b Lit w t them ilking B s vere gt i ail i l a } \ trimme ape, 1 it leep— cra] on the 1 y Ww be ough, and a ricl lark silk s I an anything. I st { lj al { re we shal hear of 1 ig tim ist Jet me 10W something a y new visitor that’s eviing ; and then | leave you to settle pes and tl em-bo} ! your heart's nt, I 8 b man ; what ‘ J t he makes ab g here, ad it your i And, witl t tuous h lillie Katt va wn across the tal | a tie t mur- L th i { to himst ‘mother ss au herles sa hard bed t ( And h tt s to the table here v il nois ' ! ‘ wel t break ist i nt hia t 1 w and show git 10, “all-al bed in t juestion of l ng,had quit gotten the friendl g stranger who was even now nher way to claim their protection an lle tn 1 aw th g and then ig Uy from tal . i ( - bi >M \ [ sea lg 1 ther ors! 1? “« Me well] r heard anything like the thouglitlessness of mer Don’t you know ls Frida -stairs clean la How on earth do you think I am t ured to run afler a child, wl an ' { ! ad from the Nels ip here I Wa the Indies tot W ney l, Vilg \ tea an | r iat ry Valk Vn an meet the coach, and bring tl hild up. Wi you g dal ‘." usin ind kind ? Oh ves | }? \ i 1 coach of irse, for the st horrid lirt and I yuldn't lik Pp ny “Oh, ah! Jenny, a coach and four; or if we cant get that, there’s a spare trolly at the factory you can ha \ hall down in style, don’t you fear !” cried Edward as he followed his father from the room Poor, gentle, loving Katharine, and is thi the home,—are these the yMpanions to whom you are coming; and with eagerness to see whom, and recognize your dead mother’s sweet features, you pine and grow heart-sick with hope and expectation ? To L continued. LT TI Success in life mainly depends upon perse- verance. When aman has determined to follow a certain line of business, he must at the same time resolve to persevere until suc- cess crowns his effort. He must never |; cast down by bifficulties which may beset | | his path—for whoever conquers difficulty, | conqners a weakness of his own frail nature likewise. How many men have commenced business under the most favorable auspices and yet when acloud has momentarily over shadowed their path, have lost ali command over themseives and fied before the temporary gloom, instead of persevering on until the cleud has been dispersed, and sunshine on more smiled upon their efforts Others more fickle, have thought their business, in some miner departments, unworthy of thei yerseverance and energy, and forgetting the | 5 5 good old maxim that, “ whatever is worth do ing is worth doing weli,” have ceased to whole busines become greatly neglected We are too apt to attribute success in | business to good fortune, instead of great perseverance. Thisis a great evil, and should be eschewed as it leads many to suppose that Dame Fortune will do that for them which they are unwilling to do for themselves. The history of every great success in busi- ness is the history of great perseverance. By perseverance the mind is strengthened an‘l | ed so formidable is a second time surmounted witn ease and confidence, Energy and great perseverance are never thrown away on a good cause, or left unre- warded ; and to every man of business, pers severance should be his motto and then lhe may look with confidence to fortune as his | reward. 00 — In arecent argument between a body of men under Major Jones, of Jacksboro, Texas and Kiowa and Apache Indians, the Sons of | the Forest were armed with improved breech- | loaders. si © 24, 3-2 428 28 -3= §*6 ae aS Austria ....... sosnenaebenen amen ine 15,674 European Russia and Cau AE oss wigunnecidonseneoniin 20,085 10,021 Italy ... ose eee oe 13,863 Germany .. u .., 06,815 20,624 France and Algeria .» 29,059 16,290 Belgium ..20 333 15,013 Holland ... 19,230 2,894 | Great Britain . ..16,088 2,935 Denmark .-- 030,392 19,748 Switzerland . . 77,624 40,251 Servia . 105,913 69,977 "| good for those who are playing at soldiers, KINDLY SUGGESTIONS, -| paternal acres,”’is on which every right the | This is especially the case when the pater- debts. ‘| 2. The work on the farm should be better systematized than it is usually. It is im- "| lost at the last moment in thinking what be | persevere in small matters, until sleth has | entered deeply into their minds, rnd their | invigorated, and the diflicylty that once seem- | Rounaania 30,196 The ServiaMs and Swiss have no army, but only a militia, How long is this game of mutual exhaust-~ ation to be continued? It may be very mn 10,029 but it is very bad for those who have to pay. 1}—Tvronto Globe. | | THE —_——_— + wees LIFE OF A FARMER—SOME The life of a farmer can be made easier, pleasanter, and healthier, and his home | more attractive, beautiful, and enjoyable, | by a carefule attention to certain rules too | often forgotton. 1. Too much work is frequently unders taken, or more land attempted to be cul- | tivated than the means at his command will fair'y allow. Less land, better tillage, and | fewer mortgages would do some of our countries an immense amount of good, and | not only keep the minds of embarrassed owners easy, but ultimately bring them, by | concentration of means and power, and in» crease of prosperity. The statement under- |lying the desire to preserve intact “the | thinking mind willrespect. But there is a point at which sturdy adherents to it tends to work serious injury to the owner of pro- , perty which has become an incumberance. | nal acres ars sadly weighted with paternal portant that the work should be so arrang» {ed that there shallbe time allowed for | doing everything that may be required to | be done without undue strain, and allowing | for contingencies, so that there shall be a fair margin to count upon any event. When once such regulations are laid down, they should be rigidjy adhered to, for any de- parture from them, unless under excep» | tional circumstances, would likely to prove embarrassing. More time is frequently todo and how to do it, orwhere the means to do it shall be found,then in performing the work when once determined on and begun with method and conducted with precision. Think, then, beforehand ; |} map out the things to be done and it will | be a matter of surprise, after a while, to tind how eas'y the day’s routine runs in its groove. Of course, perfect regularity, under all conditions of time, place and weather, is not to be expected, for the best plans sometimes fail, just as the best re-~ gulated railway may break a wheel, or be thrown of the track bya damaged rail. 3. Pay more attention to the health of the body. Care in changing from thin to thicker garments, or the reverse, as the case may be, in accordance with the varia» | tions of the weather, will often prevent severe attacks of sickness. The farmer is constantly exposed to sudden alteration of cold and heat, and is further liable to suffer | from checked perspiration, when severe | labor demands a short period of rest. Itis such things as these, combined with hard | work, that breaks down, after a while the strongest constitution. 4. Make the home life cheerful and MISCELLANEOLS. A trip around the world can be made for $1000. The Carlists have shot 160 Republican prisoners. The truth is said to be always beautiful . but some people are always afraid of it “ Young in years but an old eloper,” is a portion of the description of a runaway wife which was left at an Indianapolis station house.” ‘“['m net in mourning” said a young lady frankly to a querist, “but as the widows are getting all the offers nowadays, we poor girls have to resort to artifice.”’ The Mayor of Philadelphia has issued a proclamation offering a reward of a $20.« 000 for the capture of the abductors of the ae boy Ross, and the recovery of the child. While Mohammedanism is asserted to be rapidly gaining ground in India, Dr. Ham- lin, of Constantinople, says it is losing in Turkey, Persia, and the signs of its decas dence are numerous, A woman has just died at Harrisburg, Pa., at the age of 101 years. She was a married woman, however, and she never res gretted her age. Fancy the misery of the poor girl if she hadn’t had a husband. President MacMahon thinks the proclaims ation of the Republic would disturb peace and order, but that if the laws he asks for are voted, the Septennate may become a Government to inspire respect and confi= dence, A youth who attended a Scotch revival meeting for the fun of the thing ironically inquired of the minister «‘ whether he could work a miracle or not?’ The young man’s curiosity was fully satisfied by the minister kicking him out of the church, with the maledictory, ‘We cannot work miracles, but we can cast out devils!” Some excitement was caused in Montreal yesterday by the arrest of the partners o' the firm of Brown, McMinn & Co., grain dealers, at the instance of the Bank of Com$ merce, for alleged irregularity in connects ion with a loan on some grain. They have been released on bail, and will go into bankruptcy. Other grain houses ere re~ ported in difficulties. The iron trade of Great Britain has keen considerably affected by the long labor strikes, so that the idleness of the furnaces is telling strongly upon prices. While the consumption bas been reduced fifty per cent, the production has also been reduced in the same ratio, so that stocks have run down, the article is called scarse, and there has been a general improvement in value, with symptoms ofa revival in Englond,Scot« land and Wales. In the Lords on the 24th inst., the quess tion of the recognition of the Spanish Gov~ ernment being under discussion, Earl Derby said Spain had not asked England to re~ monstrate with France for connivance with the Carlists. He considered that the res cognition of the Spanish Government at present would be premature. When the time arrived, it would be better that such recognition should be the collective act of European Powers. The new iron bridge across the Schuylkill at Philadelphia, is one of the most beauti- ful structures of the kind in the country. It is one hundred feet wide and a thousand feet long, and is of the truss pattern. Every post and staunchion is made ornamental, and the driye-ways, walks and walls are finished in the most elaborate manner, while bronzes and guilt, bright colors and colored lamps add a gorgeous aspect to the struc- ture. ‘The entire cost of the bridge was a million anda half ofdollars. The contrac~ tors have finished their work much in ads vance of the allotted time, and the Bridge was open to public travel on the Fourth of July. The Commonwealth remarks that the various gentlemen who, in different parts of the country, are straining their powers and risking their lives to walk impossible distances in incredibly short space of time, will be very mueh taken aback by the an nouncement that a young woman in Eng- land has just accomplished the difficult feat of walking 1000 miles in 1000 hours, What is more, she did it neither for honor or for glory, but simply to enable her father to win the paltry wager of £50. The feat has been performed we believe, but three times, first by Capt. Barclay, secondly by Donahue, who walked at Springfield, and who nearly killed himself in the effort. A few more achievements of this kind and we shall have to revise our notions of the ‘f weaker "’ sex. Blackwood's Magazine for July, the first number of a new volume, is now belore us. The most noticable articles among its con- tents are: ‘* Family Jewels ’’ “Two Cities— Two Books” and “ Brackenbury’s Narrative of the Ashantee War.”’ ‘The first is a collects ion of gems of verse which have a family likeness ; examples of one subject variously treated by poets of different ages. The writer says; ‘‘We have directed our reads ers aitention throughout to no case of spuri» ous imitation bybaser hands of noble jewels, ¢ nor to instances where they haye been meang ly purloined ; we have aimed at exhibiting their descent in the right line to one gens eration after another of the royal family of poets.’’ In the second we have a picture of Florence, in connection with George Eliot s “ Romola; ’’ and Venice, with which is associated in like manner George Sand’s ‘ Consuelo.” The third of these articles is a review of an ‘ authentic memoir of that extraordinary war which England made on the Gold Coast last winter.’ The book tells of the ‘ancient history of the region: the troubles of the governors and rulers of old, the Ashantee invasion which Jed to this last war, and the steps taken to meet it; ’ its results acd the prospects of the settlements, giving altogether a very fair idea of the whole subject, The serials ‘ Alice Lorraine’ and ‘ Valentine and his brother,’ are con- tinued. In ‘Quid sit Orandum’ a short poem of three or four pages, we are pre~ sented in a concise form with the principal arguments in favor of the efficacy of prayer. There is scarcely anything more needed everywhere, but especially in large cities, than a proper and regular analysis of foods and drinks. The amount o! disease of vari~ ous forms which is the result of adulteration bright, as well as comfortable, see that the house is made pleasant by neat adornments _and that it has also pleasant surroundings, books, papers, pictures,{music. these at least, if not all, are within the reach of those whose minds crave them and whose eyes appreciate them. When homes are bleak, bare, and careless, life is robbed of one of its chiefest blessings. The out- ward beauty of a country dwelling is a matter of no little consequense. Its adorns | ments, though simple and inexpensive, may yet be made to add a new charm to the inner comforts. Flowers over the porches, and srubs and flowers on the lawn, are nature’s art, and though cheap, are in their natural beauty more attractive than any | other thing that the costliest art can supply. — Witness. ~_- —In the new edition of Tennyson's | poems now published in London he has in- | cluded again the youthful poems which his taste once rejected from his works, but which he admitted under the title of “ Juve-~ nilia’’ in the edition of 1872. Mount Vesuvius is to have a railroad to the top costing $4,000,000. The upper sta tion will be guarded by a pent house, 60 as to protect it in case of eruption, and the line is to be constructed in such a way that the utmost danger to be apprehended is the loss of a few feet of rails. Kate Mulvey and Eila Higgins, of Coving-~ ton, two young ladies of high reputation in a certain or uncertain circle of society, had a regular ie fight in that city the other day, and fought sixteen rounds by the laws of the ring. The combatants retired with highly variegated eyes, while their sole re- maining garments were curtailed to the di- mensions of a small hand towel, and a very ragged one at that, — Louisville Courier Journal, Some of |must be very great. People constantly buy and use articles of diet, cheap as well as dear, of known home manufcture or pro- | fessedly foreign, the constituent parts of which, if they-knew, they would reject them with indignation, or shrink from them ‘in terror. This is more especially the case , with drinkables, some of which it would | only be justice to lable as poison. It is the |case in a very marked manner with the | dearer kinds of wine and other liquors sup- | posed to be imported. But, im fact, the | evils extends, where there is little or no chance of detection, to all the articles of daily use. In England this was made | manifest lately by examinations conducted | by chemical experts. The researches of these gentlemen were not confined to what | we generally regard as adulteration, but included all attempts to deceive the | public by the representation of certain foods to be nutritious which were not 50, On this last point, however, there was considers ‘able divergence of opinion among the an- alysts. ‘he movement is a good one, and _ although at first eaters and drinkers may be | somewhat shocked to learn that they have | been so long beguiled, the ultimate tend- 'ency cannot be but benifiicial. But the | publication of such knowledge, at long in- ‘tervals, which allow of forgetfulness and | relapse into oid habits, is comparatively |worthless. Every city, town or village ought to have one or more, according to population, skilled analysts, whose duty it shouid be to see that the meats and drinks scld are what they claim to be. The check on our markets by meat inspectors is cer- tainly a great boon, but it is not enough, and, in fact, there is far more danger of sickening npn ve ves ete po whose condition is easly perceptable, there is of their a slowly poisened by skillfully disguised adulteration, Seaeiiianeneniaemmsinemnetinanieentiineionddientnediemmmenmesiiemmmenantamntadiiities cattails Mena. ee x