And they retire into their holds and pine, 
And long restrained, grow stem. But some there arc 
That in a sacred want and hunger rise, 
And draw the misery home and live with it, 
And excellent in honor wait, and will 
That somewhat good should yet be found in it; 
Else wherefore were they bom V” 
The youth still firmly reserved his apparent cheer¬ 
iness, because per force— 
“-His peace and welfare made 
The sunshine of three lives. The cheerfnl grange 
Threw open wide its hospitable doors 
And drew in guests for him. 
| In blm the eyes at home were satisfied, 
And if he did but laugh the ear approved. 
What then f He dwelt among them as of old, 
And taught his mouth to smile." 
Anon, a faternl day dawns. A day outwardly of 
blossom, and sunshine, and song of birds. Lau- 
rance finds the fair girl Bitting in a wood, “near 
the little station," awaiting the train which is to 
bring her beloved. He comes, hat just before him 
a woman arrives, who reveals the fact that she is 
his wife, and shows Muriel their child. 
“ And down her face the large tears ran, 
And Muriel's wild, dilated eyes looked np, 
Taking a terrible meaning fram her words 
Ere they were half spoken." 
Miss Ingelow paiuts in a few artist words one of 
those vivid contrasts between the peace of nature 
and the auguish of humanity, for which her genius 
is so noticeable. j 
“ And Laura we stared about him half in doubt 
If this were real, for all things were so blithe.,. 
The sort air tossed the little flowere about; 
The child was singing, and the blackbirds piped, 
Glad in fair sunshine. And the women both 
Were quiet, gazing In each other’s eyes.” 
After this denoument, through long, lODg months 
of suffering, Mc;kiel “lay and faded with the year." 
Bnt she could not die. In the 9pring-tirne— 
“-When the violet opened, she rose up 
' And walked, but she was white and wan. 
brought her daughter with her, a sweet girl of 
fifteen named Gertrude. Her two elder sisters 
remained at home in charge of the family during 
their mother’s absence. I was surprised to find 
Gertrude so expert in all manner of housewifely 
accomplishments. Mrs. Truman has instructed 
her daughters in every department of housekeep¬ 
ing. They take turns by weeks in cooking, sewing 
‘ " One week 
BE MERCIFUL IN JUDGMENT 
Where'er her troubled path may be, 
The Lord's sweet pity with her go 1 
The outward wayward life we see, 
The hidden spring we may not know. 
Nor is it given us to discern 
What threads the fatal sister spun; 
Through what ancestral years has run 
The sorrow with the woman born; 
What forged her cruel chain of moods, 
What set her feet in solitudes. 
And held the love within her mnte; 
What mingled madness in the blood, 
A life-long discord and annoy. 
Water of tears with oil of joy, 
And hid within the folded bud 
Perversities of flour and fruit. 
It is not onrs to separate 
The tangled skein of will and fate, 
To show what metes and bounds should stand 
Upon the soul’s debatable land, 
And between choice and providence 
Divide the circle of events; 
But he who knows our frame is just, 
Merciful and compassionate, 
And full of sweet assurances 
And hope for all tbe language is, 
That He rememberetb we are dust! 
[Whittier't Snoio Bound. 
Be droops his plntny, enow-soft wings, 
He waves his balmy hand, 
And wide the gate of silence swings 
That gnard? the shadowy land. 
Forgot is Time, the sentinel 
That et3nde outside the door; 
The gloomy train of cares as well 
That clogged onr steps before; 
O, river of oblivion 1 
Thy draughts are sweet and deep, 
For memory slumbers on her throne, 
Rocked by the Angel, Sleep. 
There is a face whose loveliness 
Is marred by hues of care; 
Bat Sleep hath swept it with his kiss 
And made it smooth and fair. 
There is u worn and weary brain, 
That rests until the morn; 
There is a heart that heats with pain, 
That feels no more forlorn. 
Oh, Death’s fair brother 1 how divine 
Must be that slumber deep, 
More sweet, more calm, more free than thine, 
When His beloved sleep. 
Dear Grannie is with ns no longer 1 
Her hair, that was white as the snow, 
Was parted one morning forever. 
On her head lying softly and low; 
Her hands left the Bible wide open, 
To tell ns the road she had trod. 
With way-mark* like footsteps to tell ns 
The way she had gone np to God. 
No wonderful learning had Grannie, 
She knew not the path of the stars, 
Nor aaghl of the comet s wide cycle, 
Nor of Nebula’s dim cloudy bars; 
But she knew how the wise men adoring 
Saw a star in the East long ago; 
She knew how the first Christmas anthem 
Came down to the shepherds below. 
She had her own test, I remember, 
For people— whoe’er they might be— 
When we spoke of the etrangere about ns, 
But lately come over the sea; 
Of “Laura," and “ Lizzie.” and “ Jamie,” 
And stately old “ Essellby Oakes,” 
She listened, and whispered it softly— 
“My dear, are these friends meetln’-folke ?” 
When onr John went away to the city 
With patrons, whom all the world knew 
To he sober and honest great merchants, 
For Grannie this all would not do 
Till she pulled at John's sleeve in the twilight 
To be certain before he had gone; 
And he smiled as he heard the old question— 
“ Arc you sure they are weetln’-folks, John ?” 
When Minnie came home from the city, 
And left heart and happincse there, 
I saw her close kneeling by Grannie, 
With the dear wrinkled hands on her hair; 
And amid the low sobs of the maiden 
Came softly the tremulous tone— 
* He wasn't like meelin’-folks, Minnie; 
Dear child, you are better alone.” 
And now from the corner we miss her; 
We hear that reminder no more; 
But still, unlorgotten, the echo 
Comes back from that far away shore; 
Till Sophistry slinks In the corner, 
Though Charity sweet has her due, 
Yet we feel, if we want to meet Grannie, 
’Twere best to be mcetin'-folks, too. 
and general management of the family 
the oldest has charge of the washing, ironing and 
mending; the next week she is responsible for the 
cooking and preparation of meals, while one of her 
sisters succeeds her in the laundry. The next week 
she presides at the sewing machine, does the sweep¬ 
ing and dusting, chamber work, and sees that every¬ 
thing about the premises is kept in order. The 
three older daughters, under the constant direction 
and superintendence of their mother, have thus 
been Initiated into all the mysteries of housekeep¬ 
ing, and trained into habits of industry, order and 
domestic economy. 
“In conversing with Mrs. Truman about her 
daughters, I learned that respecting all subjecte of 
delicate and yet vital importance to young ladies, 
they bad learned from their mother whatever It was 
for their interest to know, rather than picked np 
bits of knowledge here and there from schoolmates 
and girlish associates. The intimacy and confidence 
between mothers and daughters cannot be too in¬ 
tense. This is the strongest safeguard of virgin 
modesty and purity, and the greatest security a 
mother can have for the future happinesB of her 
daughter. Very different from Gekty Truman did 
I find my poor little cousin, Katt, who was with 
me all the month of August. Ignorant of every¬ 
thing that is most important for a young woman to 
She can dance, she can sing, she can play 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker, 
LATJEANCE. 
THE SOUL DRESS 
BT ELIZA WOODWORTH, 
“LiUBANCE" is the title of a poem written by 
Jean Ingelow, It is inset in a daintily colored, 
and gilt-topped volume issued by Roberts Bros., 
Boston, under the name of “ A Story of Doom and 
Other Poems." The book is full of beauty. Truly 
if any one desires to read the most enchanting love 
stories, told In the most fascinating manner, they 
have but to peruse some of the longer poems of 
our day. Dr. Holland’s “Rathrina,” though de¬ 
tailing the uneasy pha&ie of a religiously skeptical 
mind, is also a fair picture of Love, and Love’s long 
life. “Laurence,’’—widely different in plot, pro¬ 
gress and termination,—treats of the same grande 
passion, concerning whose varied manifestations 
neither readers nor writers appear to weary. The 
hero is mostly of “The Heir of Redcliffe” type,—a 
purely English creation. He loves profoundly and 
hopeleesly, but without any thought of relinquish - 
Re also marries the charming heroine, but 
know 
the piano, embroider and crochet; but she knows 
nothing of plain sewing, of cooking, or Indeed of 
anything that fits woman for womanly duty. Let 
Fortune’s wheel be reversed, or let Katy marry a 
poor man, and I know not what she could do to 
take care of herself or aid her husband. Her 
mother, under what seems to me a totally wrong 
conception of her own obligations and of Katt’s 
real interest, has brought her up to a life of indo¬ 
lent ease and careless happiness, from which 1 fear 
her awaking to life’s realities and its often stern re¬ 
quirements will be bitter and sad indeed." 
“ March , 1866.—I am delighted with the knowl¬ 
edge my children are getting of the Bible. We 
read it every morning at family prayers, and trans¬ 
late it into child language. Instead of looking 
upon devotions as tiresome, they often beg me to 
read a little more, or to 6ing another verse, for we 
always sing at prayers. We have accustomed them 
to pray aloud, and now they often surprise me with 
the propriety and force of their utterances, showing 
as they do that the very depth and power of 
Christ’s teachings have taken hold of their moral 
and religions natures. Of all things I would dis¬ 
like to Bee religion made a bore to my children. 
Rather let it be, as it now seems, a subject of trans¬ 
cendent interest, and of daily practical value and 
happiness. Puritanism and piety are widely differ¬ 
ent— we cannot have too much of the latter — too 
little of the former. True religion, thus we teach 
our children, is conformity to the law6 of God, 
moral, physical, social, and from it springs beauty, 
harmony, joy, delight, happiness and peace. Kever- 
Empurpled seas began to blush and bloom, 
Dovee made sweet moaning, and the guelder-rose 
In a great stillness dropped, and ever dropped. 
Her wreath abont her feet, and there it lay 
And drifted not at all. The lilac spread 
OdoronB essence around her; and full oft, 
When Muriel felt the warmth her pulses cheer, 
She, laded, sat among the Maytlde bloom, 
And with a reverent quiet in her soul, 
Took back-it was His will—her time, and sat 
Learning again to live." 
The beautiful idyl winds its way slowly through 
many an intricacy, to a happy close. “ Most patient 
Muriel,” won at last to grant the love of Lau- 
rance, “its choice of griefs,” becomes his wife. 
Yet, Alas! after months of marriage, Bhe could but 
think— 
“ What have I done? how shall I do the rest? 
Ah! so contented, La prance, with this wife 
That loves you not, for all the stateliness 
And grandenr of your manhood, and the deeps 
In your blue eyes." 
Her earliest abashed consciousness of awakened 
love; her husband’s prior but silent observence of 
it; his 
“Hidden reserves of measureless content;” 
the Bweetly quiet woman-talks between the fair 
young mother and Laura sen’s grandame—all are 
told in the most simple and unaffected style, and | 
with the most subtile delicacy of feeling. 
“ Love—such a slender moon, going up and up, 
Waying so fast from night to night. 
And swelling, like an orange flower-bud, bright. 
* * * Most beautiful crescent moon, 
Ship of the sky! ’ 
Here, at Muriel’s first self-recognition of love 
for her husband, tbe music-words pulse out, leaving 
the reader to finish the golden song — to infill it 
with all the— 
“ Majesties of human life, 
All its fairest possible sum, 
And the grace of its to come.” 
Montview, (Pekin,) Niagara Co,, N. Y. 
ment. 
does not succeed in winning her affections until 
long after they are united. This formula being 
rather fantaeligue , is very interesting, and the diffi¬ 
cult- story is adorned with many beautiful passages. 
It ofJens with a description of Laurance, who is 
entirely English throughout: 
“ He knew she did not love him; but so long 
As rivals were unknown t,o him, he dwelt 
At ease, and did not find hie love a pain. 
* * * He was frank, 
Fresh, hardy, of a joyous mind, and strong,— 
Looked all things straight in the face. 8o when she came 
Before him first, he looked at her, and looked 
No more, but colored to his healthful brow, 
And wished himself a better man, and thought 
On certain things, and wished t hey were undone, 
Because her girlish innocence, the grace 
Of her unblemished pureness, wrought in him 
A longing, and aspiring, and a shame 
To think bow wicked was the world,—that world 
Which he mast walk lu.-while from her (and such 
As she was) it was hidaen.” 
And henceforth his love uplifted him from gross 
acts and thoughts. 
“In his young heart 
She reigned, with all the beauties that she had, 
And all the virtues that, he rightly took 
For granted; there he 6et her with her crown, 
And at her first enthronement, he turned out 
Much that was best away, for unaware 
His thoughts grew noble.” 
The poetess proceeds to give a description of the 
pleasant home of Laurance. She pictures his 
childhood, passed with those who tenderly regard¬ 
ed him, and the dawning of his youth, up to the 
nour of his first love, which gleams upon him snd- 
He reached 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
WHAT IT IS TO BE A MOTHER. 
A SERIES OF LETTERS ON HOME TRAINING. — NO. V, 
BT MRS. LAURA E. LYMAN, 
Home, July, 1868. 
Mr Dear Julia:—A house full of visitors and no 
help but that of my children, which is a good deal, 
for they save me so many steps, must be my apol¬ 
ogy for delaying this letter so long. 
1 have been looking over the diary I kept when 
Eddie, my oldest, was a little boy, and have copied 
some extracts from it for you. They embody ideas 
1 have on the topics we have been discussing that 
may be of some value to you: 
“Nov., 1864.—Enura is some months over four 
years old, and his father and I have been talking 
abont sending him to school. We decided not to 
do it for several reasons. In the first place to con¬ 
fine the little fellow in a close room with twenty or 
thirty others for five or six hours every day, where 
he will be obliged to keep still, is bad for his body. 
“ * You run about my little maid, 
Your limbs they are alive.’ 
“ Let him play at home and read to his mamma 
in his primer every day. He will learn fast enough. 
In the next place no teacher can possibly feel the 
interest Id my boy that I do, or can understand as I 
can how to govern and direct his will and mental 
powers. The judicious mother is the best possible 
teacher, and no duty, no pleasure compares with 
that of training her oflspring in the best manner. 
“ In the third place, it may be all very well to in¬ 
vent machinery to spin fifty or five hundred threads 
just alike, but in the large schools, where five hun¬ 
dred little mind6 mnst spin along the same grooves 
and submit to the same discipline, the individuality 
of each is sunk, and a dead, monotonous, though, 
in some respects, beautiful regularity is produced. 
As though in a park, oak and chestnut, willow and 
elm, should all be trimmed to the same uniform 
shape. We will cultivate the young olive plants 
around our table, we believe iu “ thorough, deep, 
” but each one shall be per- 
Thb most effective eye-water—Woman’s tears. 
The oldest lunatic on record—Time out of mind. 
The first snake-charmer—Eve. 
A shadow without a substance—The shadow of a 
doubt. 
All ready cut and dried—Sandwiches at a railway 
station. 
A grocer iB like a highwayman when he lies in 
weight. 
The usual leap year advice to young ladies is “ to 
act like men.” 
F asc ination is described as the art of nailing an 
admirer to his seat. 
Married Life often begins with rosewood and 
mahogany and ends with pine. 
Modesty in woman is like color on her cheek— 
decidedly becoming if not put on. 
A young lady desires to know if 
Bills” are the same as Sweet Williams. 
Adam was the only man that never tantalized his 
wife about 
DIFFIDENT MEN, 
deniy, like the rising of a tropical 6uu. 
that mystic point, in life when he felt— 
" A stirring of the heart, a quickening keen 
Of sight and hearing lo the delicate 
Beauty and music of au altered world: 
Began to walk in that mysterious light 
Which doth reveal and yet trauslorm; which gives 
Destiny, sorrow, youth, and death and life 
Inteneer meaning; In disquieting 
Lifts up; a shining light: men call it Love.” 
The charming Muriel and her indifference are 
thus portrayed: 
“Fair, modest eyes had she, the girl he loved; 
A silent creature, though tful, grave, sincere. 
She never turned from Mm with sweet caprice, 
Nor changing moved his soul to troublous hope, 
Nor dropped for him tier heavy lashes low, 
But. excellent in youthful grace came up; 
And ere his wordB were ready, passing on, 
Had left him all a-trcmblc; yet made sure 
That by her own true will, and fixed intent, 
She held him thus remote.” 
Ere long, to the unspeaking youth came the 
“ruthless fate"—the sad discovery that she loved 
elsewhere. He beheld her in the presence of the 
man of her selected thought— 
“And all her face war fair with rosy bloom, 
Tbe blush of happiness. * * O, her eyes 
Were full of peace ami tender light: they looked 
One moment in the ungraced lover’s race 
While he.was passing." 
Here we reach toe best part of the poem—the 
hero’s noble straggle with despondency. His pure 
anseltishDe68 is broadly drawn. He carefully cov¬ 
ered his wound that he might not bring gloom into 
the home where his presence had ever been the 
chief ioy. They who loved him should never know 
“ — iiow that, same day 
Hope with her tender colors and delight 
* * were dead. # 
* * And his greater self 
Arose in him and fought. * It mat ters much, 
It matters all to these, that not to-day 
Nor ever they should know it. I wifi hide 
The wound; ay, hide it with a sleepless care. 
What! shall 1 make these three to drink of me, 
Because my cup is bitter?’” 
But there came au hour in which he met Muriel, 
As he gazed upon her 
When the world was younger, diffident people 
had a much better chance of success in it than they 
have now. Their modesty found favor with the wise 
and good, and they were helped along. Pliny, the 
greatest lawyer of his age, recommended quite young 
men of his own profession to the public, and some¬ 
times refused to undertake a cause unless some 
modest junior counsel was associated with him as 
a pleader. Lawyers don’t do that sort of thing 
now. It does not answer to implore the favorable 
opinion of courts and juries; the advocate who ex¬ 
pects to obtain their assent to his views must de¬ 
mand it. We have popular speakers who simply 
“make a noise in the world." Their heads are 
empty, but their lungs arc strong and their tongaes 
glib. An ancient writer on oratory says that a 
flushed face and an expression dashed with modesty 
should secure the attention of an audience. Alas! 
these evidences of diffidence are death to the pros¬ 
pects of a speaker in this age. A man who over- 
Look at Paul. The old bed of the sea laid bare 
for the foot of Israel, the dry rock changed into a 
gushing fountain, the rotten tenant of the tomb 
rising at Christ’s word, to appear, once divested of 
his grave clothes, with life sparkling in his eye and 
health blooming on his rosy cheek, did not show 
God’s power over dead matter more plainly than 
Paul’s conversion attested His power over a de¬ 
praved heart. What more incredible than yonder 
man, who, with a fierceness, a firmness of purpose, 
and an intensity of youth, standing glutting his eyes 
with Stephen's blood, would ere long be Christ’s 
greatest and most devoted apostle; and should die, 
after a life of unparalleled sufferings, a martyr in 
the very cause of which he shed the first martyr’s 
blood. Yet bo it was. 
Is there anything too hard for me? saith the 
Lord; in other and fuller words—is any heart too 
hard for me to break; aDy sin too great for ine to 
bind; any habits too old for me to change; any 
prayer too great for me to answer; or wants too 
many for me to supply V The blessed lesson such 
cases teaches us is this:—That however great the 
difficulties, or deep the sorrows, or stroDg the 
temptations, or arduous the duties of His people, 
Ilia grace, as He promises, shall be sufficient for 
them. And so they may use the highest, and yet 
the humblest, the bravest, though by no means 
boastful, saying that ever fell from mortal lips,— 
“ I can do all things through Christ which strength- 
eneth me."— Dr. Guthrie. 
and scientific tillage, 
mitted to develop in accordance with the laws of 
its peculiar organization. The vine shall have a 
trellis to clamber upon; the willow shall hang out 
its long pendants, the oak shall throw out its sturdy 
branches, and each develop the beauty or strength 
with which it is endowed by nature. So Eddie 
will not go to school for three or four years yet. 
He has slate aud pencil, drawing cards, a globe, and 
toys. From them and his books he can learn faster 
and better under the instruction of his mother than 
at any possible school." 
“ Feb. 23d, 1865.—Two funerals from our family 
in less than a week. To-day ’Grandma 7 was laid 
in the tomb. She was nearly eighty, and we have 
long looked for her departure to that better world, 
for which she was so fully ripe. But my Hattie, 
my baby, I did not think *he would go before grand¬ 
ma—and as the door of the tomb turned on its rusty 
hinges my eyes instinctively sought out the silver 
stars gleaming on her little coffin, and 1 could see 
the frozen form within that but a few days before 
nestled warm aud healthful in my bosom. It brings 
us all nearer to heaven to know that we have there 
an angel child, and how careful shall we be to train 
these two boys left ue so that, if possible, their 
little sister, though under the tuition of the angels, 
shall not be far in advance of them when they meet 
by-and-by. I would not call her back, but, oh, 
these empty arms, this bleeding heart. She will 
wait for me and watch for my coming, and know 
me, her mother, there I" 
“ April 8<ft, 1865—This is Eddie’s birthday, and 
as our custom is we celebrated it. I made him a 
cake, frosted it, and with the yolk I made some 
gold frosting, and painted his name aud his age 
with it on tne cake. We had raisins and apples and 
candies. A picture was duly inscribed on the back 
with his name and age, presented in form by his 
father and bung on the parlor wall. We always 
Eight-Hour 
“ the way mother used to cook.” 
Douglas Jerrold said Eve ate the forbidden fruit 
that she might have the pleasure of dressing. 
A young lady gives her reasons for using a parasol 
in these words“I raise my parasol to parry Sol’s 
rays." 
The prettiest red that ever ornaments a lady’6 
cheek is that which i6 seen when a compliment is 
paid her. Of course the latter is to he merited. 
Insensibility is the companion ®f drunkenness. 
Man’s inevitable lot—In the graveyard. 
Death is certain; time uncertain. 
Let your apparel be modest, neat, comely. 
A pointed reporter:—Needle gun. 
When is a window like a star? When it is a sky¬ 
light. 
Canine economy—Baying anything that is “ dog 
cheap.” 
Society, like faded silk, mnst be viewed in all 
situations. 
Relatives take the greatest liberties, and give the 
least assistance. 
He who pelts every barking dog must pick up a 
great many stones. 
When coin is largely alloyed, can it be considered 
to have a metallic base? 
and best in the next 
The Wife.— 11^ is astonishing to see how well a 
man may live on a small income, who has a handy 
and industrious wife. Some men live and make a far 
better appearance on six or eight dollars a week 
than others do on sixteen or eighteen dollars. The 
man does his part well, but his wife is good for 
uothing. She will even upbraid her husband for not 
living in as good a style a8 her neighbor, while the 
fault is entirely her own. His neighbor has a neat, 
capable and industrious wife, and that makes the 
difference. His wife, on the other band, is a whirl- 
He who has more learning than good works is like 
a tree with many branches but few roots, which the 
first wind throws on its face; while he whose works 
are greater than his knowledge is like a tree with 
mauy roots, aud fewer branches, but which all of the 
winds of heaven cannot uproot. 
The house that does not open to the poor shall 
open to a physician. 
When the thief has no opportunity for stealing, he 
considers himself au honest, man. 
While thy foot is well shod, smash the thorn. 
There is a great difference between him who is 
ashamed before himself and him who is only ashamed 
before others. 
Teach thine own tongue to say, 1 do not know. 
Not the place houors the man, but the man the 
place. 
Commit a sin twice, and you will then think it 
perfectly allowable. 
and told his hopeless love, 
“ Submiss, and yet not his, a passionate, 
A quickened sense of his great impotence 
To drive away the doom got hold of him; 
He set his teeth to force the unbearable 
Mi so o - back, his wide-awakened eye 
Flashed as with fiame. And she, all overawed 
And mastered by Ms manhood, waited yet, 
And trembled at the deep she could not sound; 
A passionate nature in a storm; a heart 
Wild with a mortal pain, and in the grasp 
Of an immortal love. '’ 
Miss Ingelow tells us that— 
“-Some narrow hearts there are 
That suffer blight when that they fed upon 
Ab something to complete there being fails, 
It it best not to be angry; 
place to be quickly reconciled, 
The geui cannot be polished without friction, nor 
man perfected without adversity. 
Idleness is hard work for those who are not used 
to it, and dull work for those who are. 
The latest novelty in sewing machines is one that 
will follow the thread of an argument. 
What word is there of five letters from which you 
can take two and have only one left ?, .Money. 
What does a telegraph operator do when he re¬ 
ceives the headB of important news?—Wait for de 
tails, of course. 
German Loving and Kissing.— "No kissing!” 
said Goethe’s first love, little milliner, Gretchen; 
“ no kissing, that is so vulgar; but let us love if we 
can!" No doubt the girl, two yesrs the senior, 
was laughing at the impassioned hoy, yet there was 
a rare refinement in her distaste. Wieland, the Ger¬ 
man novelist, must have been a sublime lover. He 
was perfectly convinced that love Is born with the 
first kiss. Zimmerman asked the young lady, to 
whom he was attached, when it was that Wieland 
Baluted her for the first time. “ Wieland," replied 
the amiable girl, “ did not kiss my hand for the first 
four years of our acquaintance!" 
Thanksgiving, New Years and Christmas. These re 
eurring festivals properly celebrated aid to make 
home the most charming of all places, as indeed 
God designed it to be.” 
“Sept , 1865 —My summer visitors are gone, and 
while fresh in my mind 1 will note down some 
things with regard to training daughters, which 
may be of use to me in coming years. Mrs. Tru¬ 
man, an old friend of my father’s family, passed 
