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FORSAKEN. 
She stood within the hayed recess. 
And Kiwed out on the Bleeping sea, 
Bathed lu the starlight's loveliness. 
As still as mortal things maybe; 
Far off she saw the Usher’s sail. 
The one lone thing upon the wave. 
She murmured" A h ! the love he gave 
Than that slight bark was far more frail.” 
She leaned against the tapestry; 
The vision of a long lost son 
In faded colors curiously 
With antique shapes was worked thereon. 
Still gazed she—could no more discern 
The shadow on the ocean vast; 
Beneath the horizon sank the mast, 
She whispered " lie will ne'er return.” 
There came up from the darkened west 
A cloud with ever-deepening frown; 
The waves awoke, and, from their crest, 
Snow-flakes hy rising winds wore blown. 
The white cliffs took a wilder form, 
In broken shafts the moonbeams slid, 
The frightened stars their glories hid. 
She sadly sighed " There conics n storm.” 
The fierce night bellowed into day. 
The cruel dav thundered into night. 
Till once again the pallid gray 
Waxed stronger into nooutldc's light; 
The wild winds hush into a psalm, 
And softer sounds the heavens fill — 
A sweet voice whispers " Peace ! be still!” 
She murmurs low ”There comes a calm.” 
God’s acre owns another mound, 
The grass with fresh-dropped tears is wet 
Where loving hands have planted round 
The Illy nn,l the violet. . 
Years pass, There comes across the sea 
A man whose brow is lined with care, 
Ho seeks that grave —he hows him there — 
11 Oh, Lilian ! I come back to thee I” 
DON'T TELL THE GIRLS. 
BY EDITH MELBOURNE. 
“ If girls only knew when they were well 
ofT they would never marry." So the old 
ladies sometimes say; and we have ourselves 
listened to the story of the wrongs of ill-used 
wives until we grew almost faithless. But 
that faithlessness has passed away, and we 
believe there may be unalloyed happiness 
about the family hearthstone. 
Wives, wives, if you are unhappy do not 
tell the girls so. . Because ofyourown wrongs 
do not suffer them to go to t he altar with 
hearts filled with doubting and fears. Those 
very fears may prove to them the cause of 
untold sorrow. You who, with the oft, re¬ 
peated tale of your own grievances, are 
shaking the confidence of your girl-friends, 
are doing them a life-long injury; you may 
not realize this, but it is truth. You may be 
influencing them to shun the other sex ; or, 
by the fears you are awakening in them, you 
may lie taking from their hearts the sweetest 
part of love; for love devoid of confidence is 
hardly worth the having. It, is indeed a 
fearful thing when a man or woman quite 
loses confidence in the opposite sex; such a 
life is without proper balance. This faith 
God implants in the heart, and we have no 
right to abuse it in our own hearts, or sup¬ 
plant it in the hearts of others. 
Wives, you who have learned the bitter¬ 
ness of loveless unions are indeed deserving 
of pity; but for those of you who murmur 
only at the toils and cares of your wedded 
lives, wc have little sympathy. In warning 
the girls to shun these, you forget the cold¬ 
ness and insufficiency there may be in a life 
devoid of companionship. You do not tell 
them how much “ love lightens labor,” nor 
do you realize how much your own life might 
be sweetened by it, were you to cease com¬ 
plaining. 
Would you warn the girls, do it in regard 
to marrying from oilier motives than that of 
a pure and fervent affection; warn them 
against entering other homes than those 
reared by love; tell them of ihcunhappiness 
they may bring upon themselves by acting 
unwisely as wives; warn them of the shoals 
they may have to pass, teach them how to 
avoid them, lmt do not tell them that on 
those shoals they must, of necessity be wreck¬ 
ed. Do this and then let, them marry if they 
will, for they av ill battle more successfully 
with life, if there are strong arms and brave 
hearts on which they may lean for protection 
and love. 
Wives, however deeply you may have 
been wronged, constantly rehearsing all your 
grievances will only seemingly increase their 
magnitude. In doing thus, you leave your 
husbands not alone in fault, for you are 
wronging them. Then lie wise, do not 
magnify the ills of your lives, but rather 
strive to win back the love you may have 
lost. Do not tell t he trials of your wedded 
life; but if you will not heed our advice, if 
you must and w ill tell them, tell them to 
whom else you will, but don’t tell the girls! 
•-♦♦♦- 
GREENLAND WIVES. 
An English magazine tell us that Green¬ 
land women, as a rule, are excessively bad 
housewives. Before marriage they arc clean 
in their persons and attire, and everything 
that an Arctic lover of right constituted mind 
eould desire. But once married they sink 
into slatterns—careless of person, house and 
iViuiily, and negligent of the duties expected 
from every Greenlander’s wife. There was 
a great seal hunter at Claushaven, called 
Timotheus David, known, in one day, to 
have killed twenty-three seals and one white 
whale. 1 saw him once bring some skins to 
trade, which were refused on account of their 
being half rotten. “What, can I do?” the 
poor man replied. “ She," (looking cautious¬ 
ly around)—“ She won’t look after them.” 
This man’s wife, before marriage, was the 
best tailoress in the settlement. Now she is 
a dirty slattern, and will do nothing, not, 
even make her husband’s and children’s 
clothes, nor even dress the skins, as every 
Greenland wife is expected to do. He is en¬ 
camped on an island just off shore, and has 
come for a woman to dress the skins, for 
which service he must of course pay her, 
while his lazy wife looks on. Yet the unfor¬ 
tunate wight cannot, as in the old times of 
Tournourhoak and the heathen Anoekoks, 
send his worthless wife about her business, 
because the Lutheran Church, which he has 
adopted, does not allow of such a proceed¬ 
ing; aud if he gives her a good caning, as 
she richly deserves, or even speaks crossly 
to her, she will inform the “proester” when 
he comes round, and the poor man will be 
read a, long lecture upon the iniquity of his 
ways, and forever there will settle upon him 
the priestly scowl, as he is pointed out as a 
vicious creature, an example to all refractory 
seal catchers. 
---- 
A HINDOO WIDOWER. 
The marriage advertisements in the Ameri¬ 
can papers are often sufficiently amusing. 
But a Hindoo widower surpasses anything 
that we have seen here in that line. This 
disconsolate gentleman invites proposals from 
widows only, stating age and other qualifica¬ 
tions, anti requiring various information of 
their former relations and of the widowed life 
of the applicants. One of the inducements 
which he holds out in aid of bis wooing, is a 
promise of a pension of fifty rupees a month 
to his new wife, should she survive him. 
Among the answers to bis proposal is one 
from a widow, who knowing what it is to 
lose a good husband, desires to secure the 
continuance of the marriage relation; and 
thinking a husband worth more than a pen¬ 
sion, slui inquires if she may rely upon the 
advertiser to undertake the delicate duty of 
securing a third husband for her, to be ready 
in case of his own death ; “ for,” she adds, 
“my object in thus entering into a second 
wedlock is simply to have a husband, and 
should he die like my first husband, I shall 
again be left a widow.” So cautious a widow 
will not fail to make a prudent wife. 
-4-t-»- 
LITTLE CHILDREN. 
Some one has well said of little children :— 
“ I think them the poetry of the world—t he 
fresh flowers of our hearts and homes—little 
conjurers, with their natural- magic evoking 
by their spells what, delights and enriches 
all ranks and equalizes the different classes 
of society. Often as they bring with them 
anxieties and cares, aud live to occasion 
sorrow and grief, we should get on very badly 
without them. Only think—if there was 
never anything anywhere to be seen but 
grown up men aud women, how we should 
long for the sight of a child ! Every infant 
comes into the world like a delegated 
prophet,, the harbinger and herald of good 
tidings, whose office if is to turn t he hearts 
of the fathers to the children, and draw the 
disobedient to the just . A child softens and 
purifies the heart, wanning and melting it by 
its gentle presence, it enriches the soul by 
new feelings. 
-- 
OUR SPICE BOX. 
The old woman’s club—The broomstick. 
The lap of luxury—A cat enjoying her 
milk. 
A fashionable party is now called a 
daughtercu It u ral slto w. 
Why are good resolutions like fainting la¬ 
dies?—Because they want “carrying out.” 
Seeing a cellar nearly finished, a waggish 
author remarked that it was an excellent 
foundation for a story. 
A bachelor editor, who had a pretty un¬ 
married sister, lately wrote to another editor 
similarly circumstanced, “ Please exchange.” 
A sentimental chap intends to petition 
Congress for a grant to improve the channels 
of affection, so that henceforth the course of 
true love may run smooth. 
Amo moment of difficulty does aliusband, 
knowing his own utter helplessness, draw so 
closely to his wife’s side lor comfort and 
assistance, as when he wants a button sewed 
on his shirt-collar. 
A young lady’s opinion of the bonnet of 
the season :—•“ Ob, the bonnets of my girl¬ 
hood—the kind I wore to school! I really 
thought them pretty. I must have been, a 
fool. And yet I used to think myself on hats 
a jaunty miss. Perhaps I was, as fashion 
went; but what was that to this ? Oh, the 
lovely little pancake—the charming little 
mat! It makes my head so level, and so very, 
very fiat!” 
Jfioitf s a nit 
anntrs. 
ON THE WAY. 
Columbus, O. 
Waiting in a civilized depot in the day 
or night time is test enough of one’s patience 
and good nature. But here in the Slate cap¬ 
ital of Ohio,—a State that prides itself upon 
being a marvel m the way of progress and 
civilization,—is a depot that is a nuisance in 
every .sense of the word. Every appurten¬ 
ance savors of discomfort; the atmosphere 
is foul beyond endurance, and everything 
seems to have been arranged with a view to 
confusion and inconvenience. Only lire could 
purify the sickening enclosure and destroy 
the life-giving principles of plagues and tor¬ 
ments that we call cholera, typhoids and 
miasma. The Buckeyes, very justly, point 
with pride to their noble State -house and 
admirable prisons and asylum ; but if would 
take a great, deal of rose water to make the 
Columbus depot bear the test of smell. 
Zanusvillk, O. 
A few miles bring us to this city of soft 
coal and dingy, dirty—everything. White 
is an obsolete word, in the Eastern sense. 
Towels and napkins are sober with Boinber- 
ness. Vet this city is a thriving one, with 
excellent schools, and the people send for 
women lecturers, and came very near hav¬ 
ing Ole Boll play the violin for them last 
winter. 
The city derived its name from one Zane, 
who was employed by the Government to 
survey the lands, mark out highways and 
select sites for towns. For compensation 
he received a section of land at stated dis¬ 
tances. lie was accompanied by a young 
shoemaker mimed MacIntyre, who threw 
up his “ kit of tools'” and carried the chains 
in surveying. Tie was a dissipated young 
rascal, but, nevertheless, married Zank’h 
daughter, who eventually came into posses¬ 
sion of great and valuable real estates. Mac¬ 
Intyre contracted an illicit intimacy with 
an unmarried cousin of his wife, who became 
the mother of a child,—a girl. M AiTNTYKK’B 
wife, who was a most excellent woman, and 
had no children, adopted this child of her 
husband and cousin, named her Amelia, 
and she was educated and reared with all 
the tenderness und largeness that wealth 
could bestow. Bhe died young, leaving a 
host of disconsolate^ lovers, who, of course, 
“ didn’t Care a cenUtxnit her motley!" Soon 
after MacIntyre’s piarriage he, kept a log 
tavern at or near Zanesville, and the most 
illustrious guest he entertained was the exile, 
Louts I’liiLruBE. Dying childless, he left 
his large fortune to be applied to educational 
purposes in his native city. 
Driving from I lie MacIntyre House to the 
river, where navigation begins, thchackman 
asked which steamer we wish to board. 
“ Which one is best? We don’t know, 
and will take your advice,” we replied. 
“ \Vell, l reckon you better go on the 
,J-. The officers on that other boat get 
drunk sometimes, altogether, and it makes it 
rather onpleasant for wimtnin a-t,raveling.” 
“ Yes, one would suppose so. We will lry 
the J-, if you please.” And the sides of 
the long river steamer began to sink down 
as she steamed slowly through the locks, 
suggesting a ship sinking at sea, so that a 
feeling of relief came to us as the last heavy, 
wooden doors swung open and we steamed 
out in free water again. 
A young woman on board evidently 
seemed bent on making an impression upon 
her fellow - voyagers. Her “ impressive 
agency” was a black alpaca dress with a 
long train, which she switched and mopped 
over the dirty deck tloor until wc thought of 
the Columbus depot and sauntered to the 
railing to look into the water in search of 
something clean. 
Why, in the name of all that is decent, do 
not women adopt short dresses when Fashion 
decrees them! It is so seldom that Fashion 
authorizes a sensible style, women should at 
once, aud universally, encourage it. In half 
the farmers’ families one finds the hired girls 
in the kitchen in great hoops and long 
skirts, and cloth, shoes, instead of neat, short 
dresses, without crinoline, and with sub¬ 
stantial, high-ankled leather boots. A woman 
is just as good in a short dress us in a long 
one, but half the people in the world wor¬ 
ship the dry goods she carries instead of her¬ 
self. Not a man who reads this would 
marry a woman in a Bloomer dress if lie 
thought she would always wear it. We are 
not advocating the outre Iiloomer costume, 
however; nevertheless we think it preferable 
in its ungraceful ness lo the slovenly, bother¬ 
some trails and petticoats in the kitchen. 
While on the costume question, wo are re¬ 
minded of a young fellow near Wimisboro’, 
S. 0., who wants to know what he should 
wear on (lie farm so as to appear respectable; 
has some company, and will we not have 
another “ Talk with the Boys?” 
As for the body covering of respectability, 
keep yourself clean and wear what is com¬ 
fortable for your work. Linen suits are cool 
and neat for summer; but a man who drives 
the plow, must, necessarily know the nature 
of dirt, and be somewhat intimate with it. 
But when the days’ work is over, there is 
nothing to prevent him from making himself 
as clean and sweet as a clover blossom, lie 
ought to do it to retain his self-respect. A 
clean, wcll-collarod neck and well-brushed 
head, goes a great way in giving ono a re¬ 
spectable appearance. 
As for a “Talk with the Boys,” wo enjoy 
nothing better, and do talk with a great 
many. They are capital things to talk to, 
whenever they do their share of the talking. 
Wc had a talk with ono yesterday, with 
great dark eyes, full of a religion wc like. 
Honed dear through was he, and one could 
read it as plainly and unmistakably as if it 
had been bound in a gold-embroidered phy¬ 
lactery across Ids brow. None of your stu¬ 
pid honesty, however, which comes from a 
lack of not being aware of any other method. 
All the polish, and cultivated gallantry, and 
studied etiquette that characterizes city-bred 
men, sink into insignificance when meas¬ 
ured by the politeness that is the spontane¬ 
ous outflow from blessed good hearts, just 
such ones as many of these country boys 
possess. Home influences do the, work,— 
more than half, too. Good mothers make 
their boys gentle, ami gentleness is the key 
and the crown to real politeness. 
It is good to be where people have time to 
be glad to see you and are not afraid to let 
you know it. Life in great, cities ia like 
being bound to a wheel, which whizzes and 
whirls and you spin round and round, until 
finally you wish you could stop, lmt, you 
cannot, unless you fiee from the temptation 
and the crowd that, presses and drives you 
on in spile of yourself; and then, when you 
do, some envious mortal, with his feet tilted 
in a six-by-nine office, sweltering in the heat 
of the town, and wrathful because he isn't 
in the country, consoles himself by writing 
of “ Nuisances from the City,” when ho is 
dying to he one himself! Ah! my dear 
sir! Here’s a daisy for you, and a cup of 
new milk, and a dish of fresh berries, and 
some home-made bread, and silver spoons 
with“ Edith ” on the handle ; and Setm has 
come for a game of croquet; and there are 
horses and saddles in the stables and a long, 
picturesque road along the river, w ith never 
a horse-ear or omnibus, or droves of faces 
that are hard, and tired, and wicked, and 
villainous. 
And then you arc so wise, too! You 
might tell the good people here something 
about the bugs that first dest royed the rose 
bushes, but. this year destroyed the grapes, 
and then attacked peaches and other fruits, 
and no remedy has proved available. They 
make a clean sweep of the fruit, like so 
many locusts, and gather in swarms on the 
vines and branches at morning and evening. 
Their season is now over, but the vineyards 
and orchards about Zanesville, and down 
the river, have suffered considerably from 
their depreciations. 
It has rained here every other day for the 
entire season. Crops are backward, and 
harvesting is done with a rush. Wheat 
promises better than for the last few years, 
as many farmers had to buy wheat for their 
bread. 
The secret of long life in a very old 
woman I know, who has always been frail, 
has been, invariably to cease to labor whan 
tired Sbo lias been industrious all of her 
days; and now on the verge of ninety years, 
advises you, if you desire an old age, never 
work when you arc tired. 
Answers to (.'iiriTSPOnilvnlS. 
Fannie N, -Cut Inna cape of tho usual elbow 
cape in length—that Is, .lust, holow the waist at 
the back amt to the elbow on the shoulders. Sew 
in a seam after the plaits ure laid in the back 
piece on the shoulder seam. Cut the tabs twelve 
or fourteen inches in length below tho waist, 
arid about eight, inches in width. It depends 
somewhat on your height. Wear the tabs under 
your belt. Wo have no “ terms " for answering 
Rural questions. 
Nellie ill. Not necessarily n ribbon sash with 
your pique dress. One of the same, with pique 
trimming, would bo quite suitable. Put two 
straight, full breadths of your white muslin in 
tho back of tho skirt. Goro tho front breadth, 
by cutting <>tr both sides, leaving the width of 
tho breadth at the bottom and twelve inches at 
tho top. One width will be suQteFent for tho two 
Side breadths by cut ting it diagonally across, so 
that the width at the top will ho ten or twelve 
inches, and that much less tho breadth width 
will of course be the width at the bottom. From 
four to live yards Is the necessary width of a 
short, dress skirt. It depends on height and size 
of I lie wearer. 
Narrow velvet, or lute string ribbons are worn 
around the neck, being tied in loops at the side 
or back. There should be harmony, if not abso¬ 
lute likeness, in all ribbons worn around Hie 
bead, neck and waist, and of the. color, of course, 
most suitable to the complexion. Black velvet 
neck-ribbon, with a colored throat-tie, Is in good 
keeping. Hair ribbons are narrow, and worn 
without ends, their purpose, apparently, being 
to keep the hair in place, und, by contrast, to 
better show oil its faimeas or dusky beauty. 
A Farmer’s Wife.—“The most proper place 
that modern style has assigned in the parlor for 
the center-table," is the center of the room. 
St. Louts, July, twit'. Mintwuod. 
-- 
To be thoughtful for others, on the way 
of life, is one of the most essential elements 
in good manners; and, like all accomplish¬ 
ments, this can be learned. 
cv-> 
abbatl) il cubing. 
SABBATH IN THE COUNTRY. 
BY GEOltOK W. UUXOAY. 
The whuls have blown tho smoko away, 
Cold Is Hie forge and hushed tHo mill; 
A nd ho wliu toil* can rest lo-ilay, 
Traffic in mute and labor still. 
Tho unharnessed iiorso foods on tho green, 
The laboring ox lies dreaming there. 
A holy calm pervades Uni scone, 
A Sabuatli stiUneSB rules t he air. 
Tho summer (lowers that light the sod, 
Within the soft shade of the Mrs, 
And cover with their stars the clod. 
Are sisterhoods of worshipers. 
Their echo wakened by the hells. 
Whose mlisle peals upon (lio air, 
Seems like a soul among the dells. 
At worship like a hermit there. 
Beneath ids fig tree and his vino. 
Reside the lowly collage door. 
The? tidier reads tho precious lino, 
Of promise to the rich and poor. 
Tim sucred Scripture in Ids law, 
Its promises to mortals given 
Are like the ladder Jacok silw, 
With angels coming down from Ileavon. 
O fragrant, flowers and bees and birds! 
O summer wind and singing brooks ! 
Your psalms of praise shame all the words 
Of poetry within our books. 
CULTURE FOR THE WHOLE MAN. 
Christian culture, the highest type of all 
wrought, out, excellence, should be broad 
enough in its outreach to include all culture. 
In its intent it doubtless is so: in point of 
fact it is often regarded as narrow and one¬ 
sided, and having reference simply to certain 
specialties in man’s nature. Touching this 
matter, a writer in the Phrenological Journal 
says; 
The ministers of religion sometimes seem 
to forget that man has any faculties except 
tho religious that are worthy of culture. 
Man in their judgment, would appear to ho 
made up of two essences, viz., depravity and 
susceptibility to religious impressions—tho 
first being under the dominion ol Satan, the 
second and vastly tho weaker, requiring a 
constant miracle of divine grace to act at all. 
While we confess to depravity in man, wo 
find many other powers, which, under proper 
culture and oneotirgcineut, would lead him 
to yearn after the higher culture of the soul. 
We hold that all talents, tastes, sentiments 
and propensities should lie recognized as the 
gift of God, and property cultivated and 
regulated; then shall we be men as well as 
Christians; heroes, not half-developed cow¬ 
ards ; giants, not pigmies; sons of God, made 
in His noble image, and under His Fatherly 
care coming to perfect men in Jesus Christ. 
The Christian who is wilfully insensible to 
the beauties of art, who despises the cultiva¬ 
tion of science, who sees only evil in society 
unless it don the Puritanic garb, is on kindred 
ground with the ascetic of the desert, and will 
neutralize the effect of bis many virtues by 
the lUllo respect which will be had for Ids 
judgment. IIow noble is the fully and evenly 
developed man ! All is grandly harmonious. 
Yet not only is such a soul developed in its 
calm strength, lmt. also possessed of the most 
exquisite Christian flexibility, moving easily 
in all the accomplishments of refined life, 
graceful as it is strong, wonderful in Us adap¬ 
tation to every demand—for the reformer’s 
pulpit or the martyr’s fagot, and not less for 
the charm of the social circle or the adorn¬ 
ment of home; masters of the principles of 
philosophy, and the niceties of taste, and 
over all, as the crowning glory, thoroughly 
consecrated iu its desire for the glory of God. 
-- 
LOOK UP. 
A lady was recently teaching a class of 
little boys in Sunday school. The subject 
was the story of Saint Peter walking on the 
8ea of Galilee, and the lady remarked that 
as soon as the apostle began to fear lie began 
to sink. “ Yes,” replied one of the boys, 
“ that is just the way iu climbing a high 
tree; just as soon as a boy begins to bo 
afraid, and to look down to see bow far ho 
has come, he is sure to fall. The only way 
is to look tip—up — to the top of the tree!” 
Richard was right, and bis observation ap¬ 
plies to more things than climbing trees. 
The way to make progress in the Christian 
life is to look not downward or backward, 
but up, up to the top of the tree — to Christ, 
who is at once the beginning and the end. 
- ■***■ - 
SO YOU MIGHT HAVE BEEN. 
An eminent divine, remarkable for the 
devoted piety and spotless purii^ of his 
character, was heard to say that ho never 
read or heard of a crime in his life, no mat¬ 
ter how heinous, without feeling an inward 
consciousness that, under certain Conditions 
of education, ho might have committed the 
same crime himself. The same feeling must 
have been experienced, more or less, by all 
reflecting enlightened men ; and yet — and 
yet how little charity there is in the world. 
-*-*-♦- 
If there be one necessary prayer it is that 
we may be better examples. 
