NEAR THE LAKE WHERE DROOPED THE WILLOW 
Arranged by WILLIAM MASON. 
Written for Moore’s Rural Mew-Yorker. 
GIVING. 
MORNING AND AFTERNOON 
®Y PHlEBK CART 
BY ADELAIDE STOUT 
1. Near the lake where drooped the wil - low, Long time a - go; "Where the rock threw back the bil - low, 
Fair girl, the light of whose morning keeps 
The flush of its dawning glow, 
Do yon ask why that faded woman weeps 
WhoBo son is sinking low ? 
You look to the future, on, above, 
She only looks to the past; 
You are dreaming yonr first sweet dream of love, 
And she has dreamed her last. 
Yon watch for feet that are yet to tread 
With yours, on a pleasant track; 
She hears but the echoes dull and dread 
Of feet that conje not back. 
Yon are passing np the flowery elope. 
She left so long ago ,* 
Your rainbows shine through the drops of hope, 
And her’e through the drops of woe. 
Your night in its visions glides away 
And at morn you live them o'er; 
From her dreams by night and dreams by day 
She him waked to dream no more. 
You are reaching forth with spirit glad 
To hopes that are still untried; 
She is burying the hopes she had. 
That hare slipped from her arms and died. 
You think of the good, for yon in store, 
Which the fbture yet will send; 
While she, she knows It were well for her 
If Bhe made a peaceful end I 
O! nerves that vibrate to the touch 
More quickly than the wire 
O’er which electric currents run; 
01 slow consuming fire 
Within my soul, in vain, in vain. 
The small hands come to me 
With hollowed palms,—they only touch 
My soul to agony l 
In vain the little hand doth catch 
My drapery’s somber fold, 
I scarcely count enough of wealth 
To fill its tiny hold;— 
Ah, yee 1 I have enough—of pride; 
My cheeks’ concentrate glow, 
The white, white ashes of my lip 
Its smothered fire do show. 
A child’s quick impulse stirs my heart,- 
Too proud to learn to dole 
Its scanty pittance out, to throw 
For any hand the whole,— 
My very soul is sick to hear 
The dull metallic riDg 
The mite makes. In the treasury, 
That scomfally I fling! 
More bright than snow; Dwelt a maid be - loved and cber-ished By high and low; But with au - turn’s 
Rock, and tree, and flowing water, 
Long time ago; 
Bird, and bee, and blossom taught her 
Love’s spell to know ; 
While to my fond words she listened, 
Murmuring low; 
Tenderly her soft eyes glistened, 
Long time ago. 
Mingled were our hearts for ever, 
Long time ago; 
Can I now forget her ? never— 
No, lost one, no! 
To her grave these tears are given, 
Ever to flow; 
She’s the Bfcar I missed from heaven 
Long time ago. 
' r u 9 r 
leaf she perished, Long time a - go. 
0, heart, a gentler mood steals o’er I 
My God Thy hand hath smote 
The rock: the long pent waters gush, 
Sweetly beneath Thy stroke t 
The nerves that innate pride hath braced 
Like firm, cold bauds of steel, 
Trill with the sympathy that runs 
From heart alive to feel 
The woe of others; yet how firm 
To bear the brimming cup, 
The small, sweet charity that love 
Bends low in dipping up; 
And “In Thy name’’ the cooling draught 
With ready hand I lift, 
“ As unto Thee,” 0, Christ, bestow 
Meekly the smallest gift! 
[From the Normal Singer published by Mason Bi-others. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
AUNT DOROAS ON SAVIN’. 
garden, and destroyed a good sight of his veg’ta- 
bles. The next mornin’ Martha asked Josiah 
if the price of pork was still goin’ up, that he 
could afiord to keep the hogs in the garden. 
Come again, Mis’ Brown, and I’ll tell you 
about my house keepin’. 
guish one from the other. They will stand 
beneath Niagara, and listen to its mighty thuu- 
derings, and behold far above thorn the resistless 
flood rushing down with a might and majesty 
such that the truly sensitive mind can but lose 
Itself in the contemplation of God and eter¬ 
nity, and amidst the dashing of the Bpray they 
will exclaim, In the fullness of their unbounded 
enthusiasm, “Isn’t it sweet?” —in precisely 
the Bame tones in which they would speak of 
a pet kitten. 
What a waste of exclamation points there has 
been since the world began! — especially in these 
luttcr days, when, on every conceivable occasion, 
wemustsay, “Row lovely!” “Howglorious!” 
“ Bow splendid 1 ” What is the use of it? How 
does it benefit right minded, intelligent men and 
women who are made to do good in the world, 
to cultivate this 6ickly sentimentality which 
leads to dreams, and reveries, and sighings, and, 
finally, murmurings and discontent? 
L. R. Mellis. 
BY MAY MAPLE. 
How’d ye du Mis’ Brown; I’m wonderful 
glad you’ve come over here; I’ve been wantin’ 
to seen yon ever since I got back from my visit 
to my son's. Yon know I’ve been gone three 
or four weeks. Here, Sara Ann, you come and 
take Mis’ Brown’s bonnet and shawl and lay 
’em on the spare bed. 
Well, as I was sayin’, Mis’ Brown, I’ve been 
wantin’ to Bee you ever since I got hack. You 
know Josiah married Martha Bayne; well, if 
he realized half how things was goin’, he’d think 
he’d got a pain in good 'arnest. It’s enough 
to put one on the rack jest to see how things is 
wasted there, in that house. She keeps two 
hired girls all the time, and she works with 
’em a good ’cal of the time, and they don’t all 
three manage to du as much in a week as I 
could du in half that time, even now, and I’m 
ena-most seventy-four years old. And then jest 
to see the waste;—whole pans full of dried 
bread thrown into the swill barrel every week. 
Once 1 asked Martha to let me have some o’ 
the dried bread. She was willin' I should have 
as much as 1 liked, though she couldn’t sec 
what I could want of those hard crusts. I told 
her I wanted to make a puddin’. I picked out 
some of the best,—for some, of course, had got 
musty,—and crumbled Into a pan of milk, and 
let it scald till the crumb6 were all soft; then, 1 
beat an egg with a cup of sugar, and as much 
sweet cream, and stirred into the pan of broad 
and milk; this was set into the oven and baked. 
And I tell you, Mis’ Brown, they all thought it 
They 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker, 
SENTIMENT vs. SENSE. 
Some people are poets, move are not; some 
soar upon the wings of fancy, others plod along 
on foot; some subsist upon ambrosia and dis¬ 
tilled nectar; the majority eat bread and pota¬ 
toes. It’s a fine thing to be able to make poetry; 
it’s doubtless rare sport to fly; and the food of 
the gods may be very palatable to those who 
relish it; but it is well that a large proportion 
of the human race are content to find their em¬ 
ployment, food and means oflocomotion within 
the limits prescribed by our earthly constitution. 
Did everybody take to soaring, somebody would 
come to want. Life is real, and they who live 
must needs conform to its laws. Star-gazing is 
a sublime occupation, but docs not secure its 
followers against falling Into ditches. 
Nature is full of beauties, and to he incapable 
of appreciating thee) is to be narrow-minded; 
but there is such a tendency on the part of many 
people to give undue prominence to that which 
should be only secondary, and, still worse, to 
affect exquisite sensibility in the most common¬ 
place affairs, that the term sentimental has come 
to be synonymous with soft. These people lose 
sight of the practical in their cagc-r contempla¬ 
tion of that which appeals to what they call the 
finer feelings. They forget that the chief end of 
man cannot be attained by indulging iu idle fan¬ 
cies, or by gazing admiringly upon gorgeous 
sunsets. They will go into ecstacies over a well- 
defined rainbow, and will talk eloquently of the 
exquisite blending of hues; yet let them be 
called upon to stripe the colors in a rag carpet, 
and they will frankly and fearlessly acknowledge 
that they have no taste hi that direction. So 
far from combining the dvlcc with the utile, they 
leave the utile out of the question entirely. 
Really, the more one thinks upon the subject, 
the more he will be convinced that sentiment is 
all nonsense. We have to deal, for the most 
part, with things practical We are placed here 
upon earth to make a living, be good and do 
good; and whatever goes beyond this Is, at. least, 
superiluous. He who does this much aud docs it 
well, will find little time or inclination to indulge 
in serial flights and fruitless fancies. One may 
sit at his window for three-fourths of the 
WHAT A WOMAN CAN DO 
The Milwaukee Wisconsin publishes the fol¬ 
lowing interesting account of an cnteq>ri6ing 
lady just married in that city: 
A young lady at the East, dependent upon her 
own resources, was adopted into the family of a 
gentleman In this city. This gentleman was 
transacting a business ol millions of dollars 
annually, and employed numerous clerks and 
accountants. The young ludy alluded to was 
taken luto the counting room and Boon rose to 
the position of chief book-keeper and cashier of 
the bouse. She filled the position and per¬ 
formed the duties with singular fidelity and 
satisfaction for several years. All the large 
transactions of the house passed through her 
hands; the daily cash transactions alone amount¬ 
ing to $30,000 to *50,000. 
We had the satisfaction of examining this set 
of hooks, and can truly say that no accountant 
in Milwaukee can show a better record of neat¬ 
ness and accuracy. Several bankers have also 
examined the work of this young lady, and pro¬ 
nounce it well nigh faultless. The young lady 
has balanced her hooks, closed her accounts, and 
left her position to take charge of the personal 
and household affairs of a young business man 
In a neighboring city. 
0HABITY 
“ But the greatest of these is charity.” Faith 
and hope are good, even full of excellence, but 
of the beautiful trinity spoken of by the apos¬ 
tle, charity is best. 
It 6cems to us that now Is the fit time to 
preach a short sermon on charity,—now, when 
the cold of unkind Winter chills many a hearth¬ 
stone where the fire burns low. There is a 
sweet charity in the Summer for all the poor 
aud needy. The warm air aud glad sunlight are 
theirs in a peculiar degree — theirs for blessing. 
They have common lot in all the joy of the 
long, balmy days. All the peace and plontiful- 
ness of seed time aud harvest are theirs; but 
these fade away with the green leaves and the 
flowers. 
From the dreariness of Winter every warm 
glow of charity dies out. All the gladness and 
brightness aud cheer of the ohilUng days is 
forced and artificial. God pity aud help those 
who have not the moans to produce it! For 
such, the hope aud faith are all that remain- 
others must have the charity. Such may hope 
for the swift coming of suunier hours—others 
must aid them as they may in wearing off the 
leaden present, 
“The poor ye have always with you, and 
whensoever ye will ye can do them goodmore 
especially arc they your care when the summer’s 
charity is withdrawn. A passably good Samari¬ 
tan may go by “on the other side" when the 
skies wear a smile for all, and there is warmth 
and love in the air; but when the blasts cut 
keenly, and the cold is sharp and piercing, he 
who thus goes by is no Samaritan at all. Dole 
out your miserable pittance, O ye rich and pros- 
pered ones, when the collection plate is handed 
around, but think not that thus are the ends of 
charity fully met. “ Whensoever yc will ,”—and 
when wUl you ? Once a week; or at every op¬ 
portunity? Spasmodic generosity is weak and 
narrow. It lacks heart, aud is not reliable. 
But that kind whose “ whensoever" runs along 
through all the hours, and seeks its objects 
everywhere and always, is the noble and true. 
Sitting by your glowing grates or well-laden 
boards, be not wholly unmindful of grates 
where the ashes are cold, and of tables that 
want food. Such are “ always with you,” nearer 
than you may suspect. Out of your abundance 
you may give much; even out of your moderate 
hoard that may be bestowed which will create 
warmth aud cheer where are only dreariness and 
gloom. Great gifts can have scarcely more 
power to bless than the small, Bweet charities 
proceeding from generous and 6unny hearts. 
These may be love and light and life to many 
who hunger for something more than food; and 
shall they not he granted ? 
HIRAM POWERS. 
A cokrkrpondbnt of the Cincinnati Gazette, 
writing from Florence, says that most Ameri¬ 
cans had absented themselves from the city, 
owing to fears of the epidemic. ITc, however, 
found Hiram Powers hard at work in giving 
his finishing touches to the “ Last of the 
Tribes.” It represents an Indian girl looking 
back toward the scenes of childhood as she de¬ 
parts forever. The sculptor is likewise at work 
upon a model of Ills dead friend, Edward 
Everett. It is to be given as a present, to 
some society or association at home. Though 
considerably advanced in years, Mr. Powers 
has an erect form and a cheerful, youthful coun¬ 
tenance. Alluding to his earlier labors, he said 
the plaster bust of the first President of Miami 
(Ohio) University was one of the first two or 
three works executed by bim. Since its com¬ 
pletion he has spent Bevcn years in the Western 
States, three years in Washington, and thirty 
years in Italy. He affirmed that, except in the 
matter of finish, he had never surpassed his 
earliest attempts. 
was delicious, especially the children, 
wished grandma would make puddln’s every day. 
Why, la sakes, Mis’ Brown I I never thought 
of losin’ a piece of broad as big as my hand,— 
and my old man used to think I had the purtiest 
little hand of any body, in our young days,—from 
one year to another, when I was keepin’ house. 
If I chanced to have any bread git dry, I either 
made puddin’s, pancakes or toast of it; and it 
was eaten with a good relish. But hired gii’ls 
never seem to care how much they waste. 
One day they were goin’ to have a great lot 
of men to dinner, so Martha told the girls 
they might boil some meat and veg’tables. 
Dinner was served iR good order,—lor Martha 
would have her table look well, if nothin’ else 
did about the house. In the course of the 
a’rternoou Martha aud I wont down to the 
orchard,—and, by the way, Josiah has some of 
the finest fruit I ever did see; when we came 
back she said if I wasn’t too tired she’d like me 
to see what a fine garden they had. Tired, 
mercy! I did’t think of such a thing. But the 
garden was veiy llourishin'; there were all sorts 
of veg’tables; a good many of them hud for’in 
names to ’em. But the fence did’nt speak very 
well for my son. I told Martha I’b afraid they’d 
lose half o’ their garden if Josiah didn’t have 
tlie gate fixed and a new fence. She said 6lic’d 
tried to have him fix it, up; but he hadn’t got 
quite ready to do it. We went in by the way o’ 
the wood-house, and here I chanced to cast my 
old eyes towards the swill barrel, that stood 
near the door. I never saw anything beat it iu 
my life. Says I to Martha, “ What makes this 
look so funny ?" and I pointed to the barrel. 
She went to look, and there the clear, white 
grease lay more than half an inch thick, that 
had been thrown in there from the boiled dinner. 
She called one of the girls and told her to 
skim it off, aud cleanse it, and put it by with 
some other for soap grease. While we stood 
there talkin', Josiah came in, and, of course, 
she had to tell him about it. “ Well," says he, 
“ I shouldn’t be surprised to find two or three 
pounds of pork, a pie or so, and any quautity 
of bread, now; ft wouldn’t be the first time.” 
And he took the old dipper and began stirrin’ 
up the contents. And sure enough, there it 
was, jest as he said. Martha was surprised, to 
say the least. 
“If pork wasn’t briugin’ a good price I could¬ 
n’t stand so much waste,” was his remark, and 
away he went laughin’ to see the look o’ dumb 
surprise still on his wife’s lace. 
You kuow Josiah is one of the easy ones, he 
never lets anything trouble him long at a time. 
Afore the week was out, the hogs were in the ' 
GOSSIPY PARAGRAPHS. 
The “music of the belles” is caused by the 
gabbling of their tongues. 
Blue-eyed girls gather the vintage alongside 
of the men in Switzerland, and they have a dance 
after each day s work. Work Is fun If it’s done 
right. 
A modest pair in the Nutmeg State announce 
that their golden wedding will come off just 30 
years from now, and offer a liberal discount on 
any presents their friends then design to make 
them. 
A Western girl tried to drown herself because 
her lover refused to marry her, but she only got 
into a quagmire up to her knees, and it took 
Henry half an hour to scrape the mud off from 
her etockings. 
Kisses, like the faces of philosophers, vary. 
Some are as hot as a coal of fire, some as sweet 
as honey, some as milk, some as tasteless as long- 
drawn soda. 
SANDWICHES, 
Idleness buries a man alive. 
The language of the sole—creaking boots. 
Proud looks lose hearts, but courteous words 
win them. 
What is better than a promising young man ? 
A paying one. 
The oldest business ia the world —the nur¬ 
sery business. 
In prosperity we need moderation; in adver¬ 
sity, patience. 
He who has good health is a rich man and 
rarely knows it. 
A great mind will be easy in prosperity, and 
quiet in adversity. 
hat kind of a face should an auctioneer 
have ? A face that is forbidding. 
He who asks no questions is queer, but he who 
asks many questions is the querist. 
Learning is wealth to the poor, honor to the 
rich, and a support and comfort to old age. 
Who aims at excellence will be above medi¬ 
ocrity ; who aims at mediocrity will fall short 
of it. 
Presence of mind 
even¬ 
ing, drinking in, with greedy eye, the splendors 
of the starry heavens, and may profess to be 
stirred to the very depths of his soul with sub- 
limest emotions; meanwhile his fire will go out 
and he will catch a sore throat. 
A friend of mine assures me that it is the 
highest kind of enjoyment to wander through 
the forest in summer weather, to seat one’s self 
upon the trunk of a fallen tree, aud there to 
muse. But while seated securely upon the log, 
elevated above all sublunary cares and perplexi¬ 
ties in a sublime appreciation of the unspeakable 
grandeur of the enchanting scene, or enveloped 
in the glorious mists arising from yonr own fer¬ 
tile imagination, snakes and lizards are crawl¬ 
ing beneath, and worms and spiders, and all 
manner of noxious vermin are quietly making 
their way in home-Like fashion over every por¬ 
tion of yonr garments. Now, sh arm-chair in a 
well-furnished parlor may be a lees romantic 
place in which to muse, bat I cannot conceive 
why it should not be considered quite as agreea¬ 
ble, and it is a thousand times more tidy. This 
same friend is apt to become enthusiastic over 
the crystalline beauties of a simple snow-flake, 
and to expatiate in glowing language upon old 
Mother Earth enveloped-in a fleecy mantle of 
purest white. But, alas! all the poetry and 
most of the substance of snow melt into noth¬ 
ingness, when compelled, week after week, to 
supply the place of cistern water. But my 
friend is sincere, is really susceptible of very 
Stolen kisses are said to have more 
nutmeg and cream than any other sort. So saith 
a Funny-fcrnaJ sister. 
At a wedding, recently, when the officiating 
priest put to the lady the question: “ Wilt thou 
have this mau to bo thy wedded husband ?” she 
dropped the prettiest courtesy, and with a mod¬ 
esty which lent her beauty an additional grace, 
replied: “ If you please.” 
Da. Brown having long admired a very beau¬ 
tiful young lady, made a point of always giving 
her for Ills toast. Being ouce told it was time 
to change, he replied; “1 believe it is, for though 
I have been toasting her for these twenty years, 
I have not been able to make her Brown yet.” 
An engagement riDg given in Brooklyn, L. L, 
is thus described: “ It is made of plain gold, in 
which i& set a single diamond, of remarkable bril¬ 
liancy and great value. The setting iB entirely 
new in design, and the engraving on the inside 
beautifully executed. The wording of the in¬ 
scription is novel and beautiful, being as follows: 
“ From -to-October 30,1867. Each for 
the other and both for God.” 
Brigham Young has issued an edict ordering 
all the young men in his domain to marry, and 
not to stand upon the order of their marrying, 
but to marry at once. If thi6 measure of policy 
does not soften the hearts of all the fair in 
Christendom towards the Mormon chief, we 
don’t know what would. Only think of the 
effect which such au order from some competent 
authority in the State of New York, would 
produce! 
Money Christians,—I n regard to some of the 
fashionable and rich churches in New York, the 
Rochester Democrat correspondent says:—In 
fact, the wealthy churches m New York do not 
want a poor man either in their pulpits or their 
pews. Tflere is such a strong money-worship 
prevalent in these societies, that a sermon be¬ 
comes better by degrees, represented by the 
weight of the preacher’s purse. “ I like to hear 
Dr. -preach,” exclaimed a purse-proud 
saint. “ He is one of our class and can feel for 
us.” For every $10,000 in the preacher’s inven¬ 
tory his sermons are the better, and to suit the 
place perfectly he must indeed be a D. D. in the 
full significance of the title “ dollars,” “ dollars.’’ 
is doubtless good in very 
many cases, but in nearly all of them absence of 
body would be decidedly better. 
The man who knew no North, no South, no 
East, no West, was found to he as deficient in 
other matters as in Geography. 
“Well, George," asked a friend of a younglaw- 
yer, “how do youlike yonr profession ?” “Alas! 
sir, my profession is better than my practice.” 
Brown the other day, while looking at the 
skeleton of a donkey, made a very natural quo¬ 
tation. “Ah," said he, “we are fearfully and 
wonderfully made.” 
One of a party of musical friends referring to 
an exquisite musical composition, said: “that 
song always carries me away when I hear it.” 
“ Cun any one sing it?" asked Jerrold. 
Faith and Practice.— We should act with 
as much energy as if we expected everything 
from ourselves: and we should pray with as 
much earnestness as if we expected everything 
from God.—Fuller. 
