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faints’ |tort-||oH(j. 
FROM A HUSBAND. 
Fonder, tenderer, ever fonder. 
But increase iny love can know. 
Here on earth, hereafter yonder, 
Hove with me must over grow; 
Loving you, if must he so. 
Dearer, dearer, ever dearer; 
Loved In youth for that fair faeo, 
Now my heart has seen you nearer, 
That first love to this gives place, 
For your soul's diviner grace. 
Ah! how sweet — n > that young passion, 
Caught from fairness, O how fair! 
That fed fall even from the fashion 
Of file dress you deigned to wear. 
When your beauty sunned the air. 
O the life-quake then that shook me 
When on moseemod turned that .cruse, 
When hair, Prow, speech, or laughter took mo 
Captive with a dumb lunn/.a, 
Dazzled with your beauty's blaze. 
Time tiiut charm has not marred blindly, 
If hia touch a burin haa wrought, 
Still soino rarer besuty, kindly, 
Every fondling year has brought, 
8oftcr, dearer to my thought. 
How much more than youth was seeing 
Now I love, with heart grown wise; 
Now the whole dear, perfect being, 
1 have flfclier learned to prize. 
Clear at last to the soul’s oyoi 1 
Dearer through Joys, cares and sorrows, 
Known, how well! through smiles and tour', 
Now 1 feel that all the morrows’ 
Hopes and pleasures, labors, fears, 
Bring but knowledge that endears. 
[Clta/7tbe»V Journal. 
- <r++ - 
WOMEN AS FARMER3. 
Seven sisters, about sixty ruilcs from St. 
Paul, Minnesota, have been proving what 
women can do as tillers of the soil. Two 
years ago lust April they secured there two 
homesteads of eighty acres each, under the 
Homestead law, and have since cleared forty 
acres. Of their crop of lust year, besides 
what was consumed in the family, they sold 
nine hundred bushels of potatoes, live hun¬ 
dred bushels of corn, two hundred bushels 
wheat, two hundred and fifty bushels tur¬ 
nips, two hundred bushels beets, 1,100 heads 
cabbages, and over $900 worth garden stuff. 
The potatoes they sold for fifty cents per 
bushel. 
All the work on this farm, the clearing and 
grubbing the land, the fencing, sowing, plant¬ 
ing, cultivating aud harvesting, and taking 
care of the stock and nil other work, except¬ 
ing splitting the rails and breaking and plow¬ 
ing the cleared land, was performed by these 
sisters alone. 
They aro natives of Ohio, .whence they 
emigrated to that Stale three years ago, and 
to that farm, then wild land, in April, 1807. 
The family consists of the seven Bisters, the 
youngest aged fifteen years, the oldest about 
twenty-five, their mother, and their father, an 
invalid. Their dwelling house, a commo¬ 
dious log building, which the neighbors 
helped them to build, and all Its surround¬ 
ings, betoken the industry, thrift, neatness, 
and taste of the occupants. 
In the course of conversation on the man¬ 
agement of their farm, the mother, a fine- 
looking old lady, remarked:—“ The girls are 
not proud of the hard work they have had to 
do to get the farm started, hut they are not 
ashamed of it. We wore too poor to keep 
together and live in a town. We could not 
make a living there; hut here we have be¬ 
come comfortable and independent. We 
tried to give the girls a good education. 
They all read and write, and find time to 
read hooks and papers.” 
-—+4-4-—. 
MISTAKEN. 
That “ there is a point beyond which for¬ 
bearance ceases to he a virtue” is as true 
now as when the world was young; and we 
believe that by those who are opposed to the 
“Woman Question” that point lias been 
reached. When we find such papers as 
the Independent uttering through one ot its 
correspondents such grave —and false as 
grave—assertions as this,— “The real truth 
is there is not a true Methodist or Quaker 
woman in the land who in her heart of 
hearts does not believe hr the gospel of tiie 
strong-minded,” if we held our peace “ the 
very stones would cry out!” 
Miss Anthony stated in the Chicago Con¬ 
vention that “ Horace Greeley’s great 
objection to a grand demonstration during 
the next session of Congress is that the 
women clo not want to vote, they arc con¬ 
tented ;” “ but,” she adds, “ he is mistaken !” 
“ Give us your hand on that,” father Gree¬ 
ley, as usual, true, and “sensible to the 
last!” 
“ He is mistaken ?” Madam, that remains 
to be proved. Go to some of our rural dis¬ 
tricts and see what welcome tire members of 
your conventions would find for their aching 
heads or weary feet. Wc doubt if even 
Mrs. Stanton’s far-famed oratory, or beautv, 
or gray hail's, would call forth a dozen 
women from the nobility, (we use the word 
in its legitimate sense.) If she did, the num¬ 
ber would he decreased by txcelve if she 
promulgated her ideas on the Dress Reform. 
Our Government claims to ha a Demo¬ 
cratic one, and, think you, Congress would 
i.lare pass a Jaw for the enftrnnohiseinoiit of 
women, when ninety-nine out of a hundred 
of those whom it most concerns would op¬ 
pose it ? Miss Anthony acknowledged in 
the Chicago Convention,—“ Wc do not want 
the question of the enfranchisement of wo¬ 
men submitted to a vote of the whole people, 
for it would he lost.” Very true, Miss A., 
hut very unwise to acknowledge it. Let me 
advise that these ncwly-soxed politicians 
imitate their more wily predecessors, by not. 
making such honest concessions hereafter. 
We do not desire to enter the contest, hut 
if driven to the defensive, our lair sisters will 
find there are women, aud “their name is 
legion,” who will prove themselves a host of 
moral Samsons , true as steel, and invincible 
as “an army with banners;” who will never 
lay down the weapons of their warfare, or 
say “ halt,” while the field is open for action. 
Mrs. Ruth R. Ranger. 
OLD WOMEN. 
This is the season for old men, ranging in 
years from ninety-five to one hundred and 
live, and daily performing extraordinary pe¬ 
destrian feats. So many of these ancients 
have appeared lids summer, that the women 
are becoming jealous, us the women are 
prone to do, and some antiquary has been 
searching out the old Indies who remember 
of reading of the time when Washington cut 
the cherry tree, and who would have voted 
for every President if they could have voted 
at all. Every State has its prize old women, 
and just now there is a brisk competition. 
Vermont boosts of Mrs. Martha Washburn, 
living at Reading, who was one hundred 
years old January 28, lSG'J. 
Connecticut claims the belt for Mrs. Re¬ 
becca Smith of Killingwortb, who is in her 
one hundred aud fourth year. Of course 
both these old ladies are wonderfully active, 
arc in full possession of their mental facul¬ 
ties, and personal and real property, and arc 
always knitting something, if it is nothing 
more than their own eyebrows. But Iowa 
distances all competitors, and presents the 
champion feminine fossil. Sioux City is the 
residence of an Indian woman, Pco-kwa-no 
by name, who says she is one hundre d and 
seventeen years old, and us birth registers 
among tiie Indiana have always been kept 
with unerring accuracy, there can be no 
doubt whatever of the fact. 
• ^ 1 - - 
Correct Teaching.— Never teach false 
morality. How exquisitely absurd to tell a 
girl Hurt beauty i.. of no value, di't s of 
no use! Beauty is of value; her whole 
prospects aud happiness in life may often 
depend upon a new gown or a becoming 
bonnet, and if she has five grains of common 
sense, she will find this out. The great 
thing is to teach her their just value, and 
that there must, he something better under 
the bonpet than a pretty face for real hap¬ 
piness. 
-+++- 
GOSSIPY PARAGRAPHS. 
Eighteen ladies are announced as public 
lecturers this year; but nobody has dared to 
state the number of those who will give pri¬ 
vate lectures. 
The latest new tiling for ladies is to culti¬ 
vate freckles. If the world keeps on pro¬ 
gressing, a boil on tho nose will some day he 
a fashionable necessity. 
It is said to he a fact that a young milliner 
in Washington county lets fallen heir to 
$17,000,000, left by a young Englishman who 
became enamored of her while traveling in 
this country. She has been promised $•>,- 
000,000 in December, and the balance as soon 
thereafter as possible. Miss Gray, the fort¬ 
unate heiress, b said to be about, thirty years 
of age. Bhc has a mother and sister with 
whom to enjoy it. 
A young lady in Auburn, New York, re¬ 
fused to marry her sweetheart unless he stop¬ 
ped chewing tobacco. lie agreed, and the 
wedding took place in due season. Returning 
from the bridal tour in the cars the other day, 
he pulled a roll of something from his pocket. 
She thought it Was tobacco, and clutched it 
and threw it out of the window. Alan, it was 
a rod of money, $2,500 in all, and it lias not 
been recovered. 
A gentleman and his wife, apparently 
occupying a good position in society, called 
at the Refuge on Blackwell’s Island, New 
York, tiie other day, and asked to be allow¬ 
ed to go over it. Having inspected the va¬ 
rious departments, just before leaving, the 
gentleman said to his wife, “ Now I will tell 
you a great secret; I whs brought up in this 
place.” Tiie lady seemed much surprised, 
and astonished all by quietly observing, 
“ And so was I.” 
The personal appearance of the Empress 
of Austria corresponds with her delicate, 
loving, high-strung nature. Her tall form is 
beautifully moulded, her eyes are large and 
expressive, and speak often things which, 
correctly, etiquette forbids her tongue to ut¬ 
ter. Her complexion is exquisitely trans¬ 
parent. Tier rich brown hair sweeps the 
ground when she lets it fall over her shoulders 
to dry in issuing from the bath. 
jv* y , 
felmre 
a 
C. 
mini, 
ASLEEP. 
UY M. 1. S. VrSHVR. 
Gon k l.. her little chamber 
Through the given and grassy dec 
And ive spread a carpet of flowera 
To cover tho chilly floor. 
The house is locked, O Sorrow, 
To can nevor enter in,— 
Tho house id lorkod, and tho keeper usieep- 
Ye cun never touch licr, Pin. 
Gone t o i-loo’') so eo M 
Under to ? blue-bird tree, 
Wl) re the ll’-.Ut mucller singeth— 
“ You can't -you euu't ace ino!” 
Peace, lil tle bird above her, 
Playing your shy bo-peep; 
She cannot hear vour challenge, 
Nor tvaite from tier wonderful sleep. 
Lily-boll swinging your censor 
Sun-lighted umsido the door, 
Tho poppies have Mazed her eyelids, 
hue win awaken no more. 
•-♦-*-«- 
EVERY-DAY LIFE. 
BY LEAD PENCIL, ESQ. 
“What did you mean when you told me, 
the other day, to ‘ lean hard V ” 
Bo asked Blondine of me, Then l asked 
myself the question and thus I answered 
it re I meant that in all our relations there 
should ho mutual and implicit trust; that the 
tenderness and joy of loving confidence and 
faith should have outran!meted course and 
enric h the lives of both; that between two, 
at ieast, life should not be artificial and con¬ 
ventional, but innocent, trustful, unaffected 
and unalloyed by restraints which grow out 
of distrust, lack of comprehension of each 
other’s characters and lack of appreciation of 
each other’s motives. 
“But is such friendship possible?” 
I thought so once; I almost doubt, now. 
For although such loves have had free course 
and been glorified by a glad fruition, in other 
eases the wedge of distrust lms entered to 
sever when both had supposed the cement of 
mutual confidence was strongest. A single 
innocent act, born of motives and impulses as 
holy and pure aa an angel’s life, begets a 
throng of doubts and tho cord of com¬ 
panionship is broken! Distrust of one’s self, 
or distrust of die other, or both, embitters the 
nectar, and the cop which contains it is clash¬ 
ed in pieces. And yet a real reason for such 
dissonance was wanting! 
“ So you have known such cases?” 
Yes. It is EvcryMi*/ I-M . The Mil* 
ionium lms not dawned. The day when 
one’s motives may be ri - illy, interpreted by 
hi3 acts has had no sunrise yet. Education, 
sometimes called Conscience, warps and 
distorts innocence and truth and destroys 
faith and trust. It accust-3 self and judges 
others as it would not he judged. It en¬ 
thralls the life, suppress .’a the natural and 
enthrones the artificial. It. destroys the 
purity of the social atmosphere and wells a 
melancholy dirge over the supposed death 
of all virtue and purity. It detects dust 
and tilth where others see only spotless sur¬ 
faces. It cankers the heart with care and 
imposes sell-penance when, unwarped and 
free, tiie life would he a song of praise, an 
Anthem of Love. 
“ He is utterly selfish.” 
Bo T said of one, in whom, despite the ef¬ 
fort to conceal, the underlying stratum of 
self continually cropped out. Tho habit of 
thinking, calculating and living for self had 
grown into the mail’s life and ho could not 
cover it, up; the internal impulse continually 
throw to the surface the stratum which lay 
nearest the heart—self! I thought, it is hot¬ 
ter to habitually suppress one’s own interests 
a little; to think of others; to live for others; 
to work for others; to submit to others; 
raflier than reveal one’s self at every turn, in 
the strata of social life. Each will win the 
credit which belongs to him or her, in the 
end; and the effort to creep forward is less 
compensatory than the pleasure of being 
pushed forward. 
- ++4 -- 
BIDING OUR TIME. 
I sat lijtcning to the tick of the clock 
over the mantle, tho chatter of musical 
voices, the self-communing song of her who 
eat sewing beside me, and was wondering 
whether liomc-life could he made sweet lt; 
whether hearts could he made purer; 
whether Cion designed a better life for us 
than it is possible for this life to he, when a 
little white-robed figure, kneeling beside her 
crib, prayed,— 
“ Jc-sus, tender Shepherd, hear me— 
Ulosw thy little Jamb to-night; 
In the darkness he Thou near mo; 
Keep me safe till morning light." 
And so the child’s life for the day had 
crystallized in this evening prayer! It was a 
Ilynm of Trust and Faith as well as u 
child’s Invocation! I wondered whether 
the philosphers would sneer at such lisping 
utterances of such Faith ! 1 asked if one’s 
heart could ever grow callous to such music 
as the voice and the prayer made! Coming 
in out of the world, out of the clin of Broad¬ 
way, away from the clutter of hoofs and the 
din of wheels, from the tumult and turmoil 
which invest one’s senses like a night-mare", 
out of the whirl of mental activity aud the 
friction of diverse interests and purposes, 
this sweet little prayer flowed into my heart 
and soothed me like a benediction from 
Heaven, and I said with all my heart—with 
all humility — “ Bless the child I God bless 
her!” 
It is hard work—learning to wait. A 
marked characteristic of human nature is 
impatience, and it can he overborne only by 
persistent willing and watchfulness. That 
“ men are hut children of a larger growth,” 
is never more clearly proven than in the fact 
that what wc work for we cannot patiently 
wait for. If it come not soon, we get wearied, 
and fret ourselves for naught, because the 
fretting does not hasten it at all. Upon this 
subject some one lias wisely advised : 
Every man should wait,—should hide his 
time. Not in listless idleness, not in useless 
pastime, not in querulous dejection, hut iu 
constant, steady, cheerful endeavors, always 
willing and fulfilling, and accomplishing his 
task, that, when the occasion comes, ho may 
he equal to the occasion. And if it never 
comes, what mutters it to the world whether 
I or you, or another man, did such a deed, 
or wrote such a hook, so be it the deed and 
book were well done? It is the part of an 
indiscreet and troublesome ambition to care 
too much about fume—about what the world 
says of ns, to be always looking into tho 
faces of others for approval — to he always 
anxious for the effect of what we do and 
say—to he always shouting to hear the echo 
of our own voices. 
- » +» - - _ 
SATURDAY NIGHT. 
Habit is like the dropping of water upon 
a roc k—it wears into the life, and the marks 
it makes can never he effaced without the 
chisel and hammer of self-denial and self- 
discipline. 
That is the way I thought as I remembered 
the selfish greed some lives exhibit in the 
minor and unostentatious details of their ac¬ 
tions. 
Some one,— it may he Frank Taylor; it 
sounds very like him,—thus beautifully says: 
“ Saturday night makes people human, 
sets their hearts to heating softly, as they 
used to do before the world turned them into 
war drums ami jarred thorn to pieces with 
tattoos. The ledger closes with a clash, the 
iron-doored vaults come to with a bung, up 
go the shutters with a will, dick goes the 
key in the lock. It is Saturday night, and 
business breathes free again. Homeward, 
ho ! The door that has been ajar all the week 
gently close:-, behind him, the world is nil 
hut out. Shutout? Shut in, rather. Here 
arc ids treasures after all, and not iu the 
vault, and not in the book—save the record 
in tho old family Bible—and not in the bank. 
Maybe you are a bachelor, frosty and forty. 
Then, poor fellow, Saturday night is nothing 
to you, just as you are nothing to anybody. 
Get a wife, blue-eyed or black-eyed; but, 
above all, true-eyed. Get a little home—no 
matter how little—n sofa, just to hold two 
or two and a half, and then get the two or 
two and a half in it, of a Saturday night, 
and then read this paragraph by the light of 
your wife’s eyes, and thank God and take 
courage. 
SANDWICHES. 
Sisters of charity—Faith and Hope, 
A race of sculptors—The Chip-a-ways. 
Not a miss—A rich, handsome widow. 
The latest thing in dresses—Night-dresses. 
The greatest composer—Death. 
Dismissed suits —Cast off clothing. 
The lowest class of society—Dwarfs. 
Men are a c.ovet-us set—so say the ladies. 
A Ioan-so.nte place — A pawnbroker’s 
office. 
Current literature — Books in running 
brooks. 
Working for bare life—making clothes 
for a young baby. 
A romance of the middle ages — An okl 
maid’s love letter. 
Many of the richest planters of Jamaica 
live on coffee-grounds. 
To keep your wife in constant check— 
Make; her dress in gingham. 
Incendiary language — “ Thoughts that 
breathe and words that burn.” 
What is that which ties two persons and 
only touches one ? A wedding ring. 
Many a rich man, in bringing up his son, 
seems ambitious of making what Aaron 
made—A golden calf. 
The road ambition travels is too narrow 
for friendship, too crooked for love, too 
rugged for honesty, too dark for science. 
Why is a one dollar greenback better than 
a silver dollar ? When you fold it you double 
it, and when you open it you find it in¬ 
creases. 
mbbatlj limbing. 
I CANNOT COUNT MY LIFE A LOSS 
I cannot count my lire a loss, 
With all Its length of evil days, 
I hold them only us the dross 
About Its gold, whoso worth outweighs, 
For each aud all I give Him praise. 
For drawing nearer to tho brink 
Thut leafleth down to tlnnl rest 
I boo with clearer eyes, I think, 
And much that ve.ved me and oppressed, 
Have learned was right and Just und best. ’ 
So, though I may but dimly guess 
Its far Intent, this gift of His 
I honor; nor would know the less 
One sorrow, or in pain or bliss 
Have other than It was aud Is. 
[Overland Monthly. 
CHRISTIAN AMUSEMENTS. 
There is a time to laugh. Laughter is 
good, and In no wise militates against a 
man’s Christianity. The old Puritanic rigid¬ 
ness of countemmco lias greatly relaxed iu 
these later days of the Church,—for which 
fact all who are not misanthropic or cynical 
in their religion will ever be grateful, lie 
who cannot enjoy innocent amusement,— 
who feels gayety and hilarity to he sinful,— 
if he be a Christian at all is a very one-sided 
one, und needs a new infusion of sunlight 
into his nature. 
But what, is Innocent amusement? Here 
comes the practical question, it must bo 
almost daily answered. So-called amuse¬ 
ments are inviting us continually, in sonic 
form or other. So-culled, wc say. And here 
we find a little light let into what many 
deem a dark subject. Much of wlmt. men 
ure pleased to term amusements are not 
amusements, rightly considered. They are 
dissipations; und dissipations should not he 
engaged in by any of Goo’s people. 
Social gatherings, indulged in without glare 
orgaudiuess, are purely amusements, aud as 
such are not only pleasant but needful. Fash¬ 
ionable parties, glittering with gewgaws and 
fripperies, where money is wasted in fineries, 
and dress, and champagne, nml which last, 
until lato in the night, are dissipations, 
damaging to the health and the morals, and 
demanding the severest protests of all who 
wish the highest good for their kind. 
Public amusements have largely taken on 
the character of dissipations, and for this 
reason should not he countenanced by 
Christians. A Spanish bull-tight was a dis¬ 
sipation of the worst sort; it dissipated 
life and fed brutal passions in the lookers-on. 
If no lives are actually sacrificed in current 
so-called amusements, to-day, there is, not¬ 
withstanding, a dreadful dissipation of be¬ 
ing. All the finer, better elements of men’s 
natures aro either flittered away, or pervert¬ 
ed so as to he worse thanlwasted. Sensational 
scenic displays, consuming long evenings 
with unholy lire, excite the baser passions 
in human breasts, and the tender, true, 
manly and womanly sentiments slowly die 
out in such excitement. An amuaement may 
neither exalt nor greatly benefit, yet as an 
indifferent recreation it may serve a good 
purpose, und he not anti-ebristian; if it 
positively debases it should not bo called an 
amusement, but a dissipation, and as such 
should it he shunned. 
-♦ ♦ ». . 
SECTARIANISM. 
Tiie Rev. Dr. Norman Macleod says: 
“ There is a great deal of cant and non¬ 
sense talked about sectarianism. It is often 
imagined that, if a man is fond of his church, 
he is a sectarian. You might say a man is 
sectarian if he likes his own house and 
family better than any other in the same 
street. The man I call sectarian is the man 
who is not contented with the blessings of 
number one in the street, hut who is always 
throwing stones or mud at number two; 
who is not content with his own wife and 
family, hut talks and gossips about another 
man’s family. Give me the man who has 
honest, earnest conviction about his own 
church, and I extend to him the right hand 
of fellowship. Love your church and do 
all you can for it; hut try and imagine, at 
the same time, that other men are as con¬ 
scientious as you arc, and give them tlio 
right hand of fellowship when they do all 
they can for the church.” 
-++4-- 
Cure for Anoer. —Humility is the most 
excellent natural cure for anger in the world; 
for he that, by daily considering his own in¬ 
firmities and failings, makes the error of his 
neighbor or servant to ho his own case, and 
remembers that he daily needs God’s pardon 
and his brother’s charity, will not be apt to 
rage at the levities or misfortunes or indis¬ 
cretions of another; greater than which ho 
considers that he is very frequently and more 
inexcusably guilty of.— Jeremy Taylor. 
—--- — — ■ ■ • 
Opportunity is the flower of time; and 
as the stalk may remain when the flower is 
cut off, so lime may be with us when oppor¬ 
tunity is gone forever. 
-—wr,"-. -f.-yr 
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