a 
242 
MOOBE’S BUBAL NEW-YOBKEB 
the railway. There would be sections, usually 
tn tho shape of ft pftrallellogram, not large, of 
wheat, of oats ,,f beans, potatoes, etc., and in 
such correct outline that In the distance the 
land had the appearance of patch work, like 
our grandmothers' bedquiltH, If a cow or a 
nraio was being pastured, a stake and a rope 
defined Us ppherc. Yet, with all the regularity, 
everything has a picturesque expression. The 
weather him been cool and delightful, with but 
little rain, I sun told that grains and fruits of 
nil kinds aro abundant in Franco this year, 
which must bo most grateful to this, war-taxed 
people. One sees altogether too many soldiers 
here lor a Itepulilio. Among the taxed articles 
one finds letters. The postage on a single letter, 
so ildu you can almost sea through it, to any 
part of France, is five cents. On the sumo to 
American, is twenty-five cents. On the same 
from America here it is ten. cents. Of all sortsof 
taxes, a postal tax Is the most to be condemned. 
Jt should be a matter of humiliation to Ameri¬ 
cans that the English arc ahead of them in 
having a penny post. 
French Women. 
T do not find the French women nearly so ugly 
tt-S they have been represented. There are few 
fair-haired ones. In shape they are most attract¬ 
ive, straight, plump, finely developed and sym¬ 
metrical. I have yet to see one untidy in person 
or poorly dressed, Black is the universal color 
worn in the street, while gray is occasionally 
seen. The peasant women wear black dresses, 
white aprons, ami invariably u white cap, often 
much ornamented with embnddnrj', but- always 
clean. The ambitious American girl with her 
expansive crinoline, her cotton lace, her dresses 
of red. of green or blue, her “ Milton" jewelry, 
and her jute structures, has no synonym here. 
The material of t he French woman s dress Is al¬ 
ways good, If she can atTord to trim it appro¬ 
priately she does it, ir not she wears it un- 
trimmed, save with a neat fold or two. She 
FOREVER. 
my i,. ltrmnicK. 
Whoever smites tbo wrong, the right upholding, 
In spite of error’s clamoring cries; 
Whoe’er uproots the fuleo, the truth unfolding 
Along the paths where Ignorance ties; 
Whoe’er, opposing vice, Is nobly giving 
To virtue’s cause his best endeavor; 
However lowly life he lives, to living 
A life t.o be forgotten never. 
Whoever lifts his hand ngainst oppression, 
Where’er the plighting curse may fall; 
Whoever makes his life u sweet expression 
Of love of oi|u;il rights tor all; 
Whoe’er, the work of hand or brain bestowing. 
Assists the tyrant’s chnlns to sever; 
Though Imnu.lo deed# ho does, some seed is sowing. 
Whose fruit will gladden hearts forever. 
Whoe’er, to an afflicted brother, needing, 
Extends the hand Of charily ; 
Whoe’er binds up a heart, that’s broken, bleeding, 
With bonds of love and sympathy ; 
Whoe’er, by kindly word or net bestowing,. 
Hinds human hearts more close together; 
Ills deeds, through rolling years. In beauty growing, 
Shall live In memory forever. 
Whoe’er, from sin and shame and degradation, 
Assists nn erring one to rise ; 
Whoe’er with life itself upholds the nation, 
When freedom needs the sacrifice; 
Whoe'er lives not for selfish ends and glory, 
The law of love forgetting never; 
Ills name, though written not in song and story, 
Will live In human hearts forever. 
©ur ^torn-seller. 
OUR ABORIGINES. 
seems to know how to dress herself instinct¬ 
ively, ami she makes up in grace and polite¬ 
ness what she may lack in beauty. 
Thu Frenchmen 
dross equally well, and whether peasant or 
tradesman, Is always so very neat and clean. 1 
cannot in any way harmonize tho neatness of 
the people and the too frequent untidiness of 
their dwellings. 
The Usual Age at which French Cirls Murry 
is sixteen. Ask them why they many so 
young, they shrug their shoulders mul proceed 
to explain that, a French girl has no liberty un¬ 
til she is married, al ter which aho etui do any¬ 
thing she pleases. While a maiden she never 
can soo a gentleman alone,go to church or ap¬ 
pear anywhere in public, even for a walk in the 
street, without her mother or some suitable 
companion. Consequently our advent and 
tarry in this small town is a mutter of constant 
and continuous surprise to the inhabitants. 
They hang out oi the windows, stand in the 
open floors, gather in groups lu tho streets, and 
stare from every nynk and corner whenever we 
appear in tho streets. Sometimes wo ’laugh and 
sometimes aro vexed. Only yesterday I spent a 
couple of hours oil the banks of ttie Seine mak¬ 
ing a sketch, ami so horrified a gentleman who 
passed in my neighborhood that lie caught his 
toes and nearly fell in the river. 
“ And you went atone?" exclaimed a French 
lady. 
“Yes, all entirely, completely alone: 1 still 
live, I am an American. It is the land of lib¬ 
erty." 
“ Ah, it must be delightful to be an Ameri¬ 
can,” site sighed. “ You do not have to marry 
then to be free, there." 
MARY A. E. Wager. 
TOO LATE FOR EXPLANATION. 
Lord Mark Kerr, who distinguished himself 
at the battle ot Fontenoy, was a good but ec¬ 
centric officer, and tt terrible duelist. Ilis de¬ 
but was remarkable. He was a lad ol slight, 
effeminate appearance, apparently void of spirit. 
His father, the Marquis of Lothian, when he 
brought him to London to Join his regiment— 
me Coldstream Guards—requested the Colonel, 
who was Ids particular friend, to watch over 
him, and sec that he submitted to no improper 
liberties, and to instruct him In the way he 
should go, in ease he hud the misfortune to be 
insulted. 
Those wore tho days of laird drinking, “ pro¬ 
digious swearing,” and brutal manners. This 
pacific young scion ol nobility soon became a 
bull at mess, a stop-P«g to hang practical jokes 
on, until at last a captain of « year’s standing 
threw a glass of wine in his face. Ho still said 
nothing, but wiped his face with Ills handker¬ 
chief. and took no further notice of the insult 
he had received. 
The Colonel thought it was high time to Inter¬ 
fere, and invited him to breakfast, tete-a-tete, 
on tho following morning at it o’clock. Lord 
Mark arrived punctually, ate his breakfast with 
perfect composure, tmd spoke but little. At 
length the commanding officer broke ground. 
••lord Mark," said he./’ 1 must speak to you 
on rather a delicate subject, but, as yt 
er r friend. I ana compelled to waive ce 
A 
our futh- 
ceremonv. 
Cantata I. . yesterday morning, publicly 
missed an affront on you, which both your hon- 
oraml the credit of tho regiment require you 
*".‘"v/hat fin you think, sir, 1 ought to do?’’ in¬ 
quired Lord Mark. . . , 
“Call on him for an explanation," rejoined 
t *“ lYi- Vfear, too late for that," replied tho 
vowng ensign, “1 shot him at eight this morn¬ 
ing. and ii you take iho trouble to look out of 
the front window, you will SCO him op a 
shutter.” 
HY DORA WJIEELOCK. 
A rkeAtive of mine, a Wisconsin woman, was 
visiting in Ohio, at a friend's house, one after¬ 
noon, where she met a number of ladies. The 
conversation turned upon our Western coun¬ 
try and Western people, and at length, in a 
pause in tho conversation, one lady eagerly, and 
utmost, under her breath, asked“ Did you ever 
see an Indian ?" 
“Yes," I replied. 
“Did you?” chorused the others, breath¬ 
lessly. 
That wins too funny. One might with almost 
as much propriet y ask a Southern woman If she 
ever saw it Negro. Indians camp in our woods, 
frequent our towns, beg at our doors and along 
our country roads are always to be met, singly, 
In pairs, squads and droves more respectable 
in numbers, limit reputation. Especially is our 
little village anil the lake region about us 
favored (?) with the presence of these noble 
“sons of the forest," and daughters as well, to 
say nothing of the swarms of red infantile hu¬ 
manity. 
Our Indians are “ wanderers upon the face of 
tho earth.” They camp nowhere, now there. 
First at Pnokwaukce, then at Montcllo; now at 
Kllbuiim, and now at the Portage: in Winne¬ 
bago, and down below Merlin, and, again, the 
shores of on row 11 beautiful lake; Puckaway will 
be their resting place. Their wigwams dot its 
banks, and their canoe? its bosom, mul, even 
while here they cannot stay long in one place. 
Like many n family man I wot of. their mania 
for “ pulling up stakes" comes upon them about 
once in “ so of teg," ami Immediately they move. 
A little while they linger near the “ old-camp¬ 
ing ground," then theynrofound on Dig Island, 
and soon again on Squaw Island. And so they 
rove, IshmUclites Indeed, in whom there is much 
guile. 
Taken as o class, they arc a dirty, lazy, shift¬ 
less set of beings, much more inclined to bog 
than to work. But among them are many re¬ 
deeming characteristics. With all their dirt 
and laziness, and diwigrecableness generally. I 
have always had much charity for the Indian. 
I l hink there may l>o some excuse for 1 heir lazi¬ 
ness when l hey can obtain so lillle tor anything 
they may have to sell. Foreran berries, huckle¬ 
berries, game, furs and leathers, anil the really 
handsome mat s made of thorushesor our lake, 
dried and dyed, and woven together with cords 
of bark the white people will give but half 
price, urnl that, perhaps, tn poor pork and poorer 
molasses. I think there has been some improve¬ 
ment in this respect in the last few years, and 
there is still i«om. Those who have hired In¬ 
dians in the harvest field have been well sa« to¬ 
tted with their work. Oh! if some “one who 
loves his fellow men" would devote himself to 
the work of improving and uplifting this neg¬ 
lected part of Gon's creatures, what gratifying 
results might lie his reward. Much might he 
hoped for, with a good prospect that hope would 
end in fruition. 
In their tramps the women and ponies carry 
theburdons, and it is really pitiful to see them 
loaded down ns (hey sometimes are. Colts a 
year old may he seen with a load, and perhaps 
a young Indian on tho top of that. The babies 
aro carried on tho backs of the squaws, 
wrapped in the blanket. “ Do tlieir children 
ever cry?" I have been asked. An Indian and 
a squaw trudged along very unconcernedly Cine 
very lint day, while a wee baby in the blanket 
rolled its little uncovered head from side to side 
and cried at the top or i is lit tie voice, as the hot 
sun beatdown upon it. East Winter a little pnp- 
poose became separated from the rest of the 
party. 1 uswtp’e you he cried quite its lustily as 
ono of our own boys mighf/if he bad “lost 
himself.” 
There aro many original characters among 
the Aborigines which we may style “ours"— 
those who Btay most of the year upon our lake 
shore. And first let me tell you of Hinocker 
and his squaw, Mary ; for lie Is something of a 
chief among his people. In form and feature 
like any other Indian, he has yet much good 
humor beaming in his eyes, and is really tine- 
looking. His block hair is combed (?) straight 
buck from Ills face, with two or three woe little 
braids at tho crown., each lied with a hit of 
bright ribbon. He almost always carries a small 
round looking-glass, sot in a frame studded 
with brass-headed nails, and held by n long han¬ 
dle. His wife is a good-looking squaw, quiet 
and pleasant. She never came begging to me 
but once, and then tn company with old Moldy 
- of whom more hereafter—who did all the 
talking. I visited Hinogker and lady once in 
their own homo. Mary and the puppooses wore 
languidly reclining (on their stomachs) in the 
door of their wigwam, along with the dogs and 
other things. They wore quite talkative and 
entertaining till Hjnockkii was stricken with a 
sudden lit of work. With alacrity he brought 
out a draw shave, and runningdown t.o tlic bank 
of the lake, began to smooth a pole ho was pre¬ 
paring for a wigwam. So we left him. 
The Indians are great beggars. They go 
around to Hie back door and knock, or, if they 
find a window handy, peek in nt that with their 
rough “ Du/.h 00 " (How do?). Then it is, “give 
me piece bread," or pork or'flour or salt; or, 
perhaps a dirty paper is extended In sllenco, 
whereon you rend that tho bearer Is a good In¬ 
dian, doesn't drink whisky nor steal, has a fam¬ 
ily of six children, or is sick himself, and im¬ 
ploring, as you are a Christian, to aid him. 
Signed, “ A Friend," or with the. name of some 
white man. When the paper is worn out, some 
one is requested to w rite it over. A rough joke 
was played on one of them by a young fellow 
who wrote a “ paper ” for him. The unsuspect¬ 
ing Indian presented it to several persons, who 
read “This Is a great lazy coot of an Indian. 
If he comes begging, give him n kick, and tell 
him to PuckiTvce.'' 
1 think an exchange is sometimes made, or 
tho paper given u friend, for I ono day received 
a call from a boy about twelve years old, whose 
paper stated that he was "the grandmother of 
four children, depending on her for support. 
Anything you may have to give will be accept¬ 
able. (Jon loveth a cheerful giver." I could 
have cheerfully given the young male grand¬ 
mother a piece of m.v iTiind, but 1 didn’t. 1 gave 
him q piece of bread, and told him to puckayce. 
One day, as I was at work, the room seemed 
suddenly to grow dark, and a faint -‘oh, mam¬ 
ma ! ” from my three year old boy, caused me to 
look quickly uroutid. Close up to the window 
stood a fat squaw and a boy, looking in very 
composedly. I confess that for an instant my 
heart stopped I was so startled. Genie, who 
was always urrajd ol Indians, ran into the bed¬ 
room. I went to the door, and found they had 
“pish"to sell: but, having no desire for the 
stiff, dry things, 1 did not buy. It is this silent 
stealing In that always so startles me, while 1 
am not frightened. Another day, while sitting 
at work with my back to the door, I felt, sud¬ 
denly, a presence, and with cheeks aflame and 
my heart in my throat, I turned quickly. There 
stood Hinocker painted, tall and, for the mo¬ 
ment, terrible. Hut ho laughed, and said he 
canto in to warm a little; and I felt perfectly 
secure, though I could not still the beatings of 
my heart for some minutes. 
Marquette, Wis. 
-♦♦♦- 
LET ME TACKLE HIM. 
In a case in which Jeffrey and Cockburn, 
when barristers, were engaged, a question arose 
as to the sanity of one of the parties concerned. 
“ is t he defendant, in your opinion, perfectly 
sane?" said Jeffrey, interrogating one of the 
witnesses, a plain, stupid-looking countryman. 
The witness gazed in bewilderment at the 
questioner, but gave no answer. Jeffrey re¬ 
peated the inquiry, altering his words to “Do 
you think the defendant capable of managing 
liis own affairs?'* 
Still in vain. 
“task you,” said Jeffrey, “do you consider 
the man perfectly rational?" 
No answer yet. 
“ Let me tackle him," said Cockburn. Then, 
assuming his broadest Scotch tone, and t urning 
to llie obdurate witness, he began: 
“ Hae ye your mull wi’ yo ?" 
“Ou, ay" said the awkward Citnon, stretching 
out his snuff-horn. 
*• Noo, hoo long hae yo ketit John Sampson?” 
said Cockburn taking a pinch. 
“ Ever sen ho was that high,” was the ;ready 
reply, the witness Indicating with his hand tho 
alleged altitude. 
“An’ d’ye think noo, at ween you an’ me,” 
said the barrister, in his most insinuating 
Scotch manner, “that there’s ony thing intll the 
crutur ?” 
“ I wudna lippen him wi' a bull calf,” (I would 
not trust him with the guardianship of a bull 
calf.) was the instant and brilliant rejoinder. 
The end was attained, amid the convulsions 
of the court. 
--- 
Some editors take the aurora very bad. This 
is how it affected one in Illinois:—“ Here we 
lean over the verge of the infinite, longing to 
grasp its mysteries, lost in the profundities of 
immensity," 
j&aMrath Heading. 
GOD REIGNS. 
nr EMMA HURT. 
A CLOUD came rolling up my sky. to-day, 
Trailing its robes of wrath. It heavy hung 
With hidden bolts ; yet, mattered not a threat. 
The air grow strangely dark; and all was mute. 
“ It comes ! It comes I" I cried, then shrunk to earth. 
And shut my eyes, and huld my coward hreath. 
Instead of Hash, and crash, and shock, and death. 
There came a Voice so »wiiOt—so wondrous sweet!— 
1 think it, must, forever echo, tossed 
From point to point, uilowu the years, 
op’nlng my wond'rlng eyes- Uphold a bird ! 
Poised on a laurel twig. All tremulous. 
It swayed tho hough with ecstasy of song. 
The cloud was broken, and a shaft of light 
I.ay down across the Earth. A song of trust— 
A molten pathway up from Earth to Hcarcn ! 
-- 
OTHER PEOPLE’S JUDGMENTS. 
Dr. Deems sn.vs: There is nothing so good 
that it may not appear evil; to the evil, all, 
even best things, soetn evil; you can always 
make your act good, but you cannot always 
make it “appear" good to another; the charac¬ 
ter of the act depends upon you, the “appear¬ 
ance” of the act on him. Was t here over a vir¬ 
tue that did notseom a vice to a man's enemy ? 
Does not Ids liberality appear prodigality, his 
economy parsimony, bis elieerl illness foolish 
levity, his high conscientiousness puritanism, 
his temperance asceticism, bis courage fool¬ 
hardiness, his devotion hypocrisy? How is it 
possible |.o avoid such Judgments us these unless 
a man could have the whole world lor his 
friends? Can the Heavenly Father demand 
more of you than that you really be true and 
faithful and pure? Must you also fritter your 
strength away in striving to make your good 
life seem good in tho eyes of perverse men? 
No, my brother, there is no such foolish requi¬ 
sition in all God's holy word. Your life must 
be essentially good. 
-- 
THE TELESCOPIC FACULTIES. 
Men’s faculties aro telescopic. Used in their 
lower state, they are, as it were, undrawn out. 
They tire capable of being brought to a condi¬ 
tion In which they will ben hundred times more 
than they are in their ordinary and spiritually 
undeveloped condition. It Is the proper state 
of the Christian to rise higher than this com¬ 
mon, ordinary, and, if you please so to call it, 
normal state of faculty. The consciousness of 
this transcends all other evidences of iho divine 
life. While some men aro perpetually seeking 
to measure themselves, to know whether they 
are in the faith, thereurc those all around about 
them who scarcely ever propose the question 
to themselves. For they are lifted up into that 
region of* moral consciousness which abounds 
and stipcrabounds with the evidence that they 
are the Lord's. 
THOUGHTS TOR THINKERS. 
Who are to be Pitied ? 
Beecher says: “ There are persons who look 
upon all that arc seeking a religious life us 
pitiable, because they do not have liberty; be¬ 
cause they are tied up; because they cannot 
enjoy the world as worldlings do. Hut I affirm 
the contrary--that no man can or does enjoy so 
much of this world as that man who is aiming 
to prepare himself for the kingdom of God’s 
glory. Tho religion of Jesus Christ is not 
ascetic, nor sour, nor gloomy, nor circumscrib¬ 
ing. It is full of sweetness in the present, and 
in promise; and the only suffering which it en¬ 
tails is such suffering as tho liar experiences in 
learning to tell the truth." 
The Universe our Study. 
DANIEL Webster once said;— 41 GOD seems to 
have proposed IDs material Uni verse as a stand¬ 
ing, perpetual study to his intelligent creatures; 
where, ever learning, they can yet never learn 
all; and if that material universe shall last till 
man shall have discovered all that, is unknown, 
but which by the progressive Improvement of 
his faculties, be is capable of knowing, it will 
remain through a duration beyond human 
measurement and beyond human comprehen¬ 
sion.” _ 
No Loss of Time In Prayer. 
“ * A Whet lx no let'— saith the proverb; mow¬ 
ers lose not any time which they spend in whet¬ 
ting or grinding their scythes. Our prayer to 
God in the morning before wo enter on any 
business doth not hinder us tn our day's work, 
but rather whets it, sharpens it, sets an edge on 
our dull souls, and iiniko our minds to under¬ 
take our labors with the greater alacrity.” 
The Value of Recognition. 
“ He who recognizes his king under the coarse 
garb of a peasant will receive him very differ¬ 
ently from another, who, Blinking he sees only 
a person of low degree, treats him accordingly. 
In the same way the soul which sees Hie will of 
God in the smallest things, and in things the 
most trying and overwhelming, repeivp? them 
all with Joy and reverence.” 
Prayer is Israel's only weapon, a weapon in¬ 
herited from Its fathers, a weapon tried in a 
thoqsqmi battles, 
