AUTUMN PICTURES. 
BY ANNIE JENNIE. 
The fleldB are stretching brown and sere, 
Where once the waving corn, 
With rustling music, met the ear; 
And summer Joy* ure gone. 
No more the robin trills his note 
'Neath maple shcit’rtng leaves; 
In pond* the frog* no longer croak 
Through evening's cooling breeze. 
The summer’s soft, white, hazy clouds 
Are changing now to gray. 
And green-robed trees ure tossing proud 
Their added colors gay. 
Down whore the creek goes babbling 'long 
Its daisy-bordered way, 
The noisy blackbird pipes his song 
In happy, sunny May! 
The mother-bird there feeds her young, 
And lulls her brood to rest; 
Now, In the thicket whence they're gone. 
There swing* an empty nest. 
And Just beyond, where to and fro 
The tossing branches part, 
A maiden sits, In pensive woe, 
And holds an empty heart. 
There, oft l/i smiling summer days, 
Two trysting lovers met; 
He won her love by winsome ways— 
The memory clings there yet. 
But when the leaves turned gold and brown. 
They drooped o’er one bereft 
Of love and hope, and all alone 
An empty heart was left. 
O, blackbird nnst In thicket wild I 
O. maiden heart that looseth all! 
He sees thy grief, poor mourning child. 
Who minds the sparrow's tall. 
And so the autumn sorrows come, 
And bo they fall away; 
For seeds must burst before they bloom. 
And open to the duy. 
fonts for JLmtlisfs. 
HOW I SAID “ YES,” 
BY A. E. BARR. 
My godfathers and my godmothers in my 
baptism called me “Olive," and they lived 
to lie heartily ashamed of themselves for it. 
For never was there a child with a more 
mistaken name. A belligerent state was my 
normal condition. I do not remember my 
nurses, but I have grace enough to pity 
them. The mildest of teachers considered 
me “unruly” and you can ask Geoffry 
what lie thought of me a year ago. Now it. 
is different.. I have found my master and 1 
believe I rather like it. This is how it came 
about, Geoffry had asked me three times 
to marry him, and three times 1 had said 
“No” in the most decided manner. Hut, 
that never made the least, difference to him. 
lie only laughed and said, “ I would know 
my own mind better next time." 
“ I suppose,” 1 said, “you mean to ask me 
once a quarter ?" 
“ Ts that often enough ?” 
“ Too often, a great deal, sir.” 
“ Well, then, we will say once in cix 
months, until you come to your senses, Miss 
Olive," and with that he walked smilingly 
away, and began some nonsensical talk with 
father about Dr. Darwin and his bewilder¬ 
ing theories. 
This last asking was just at the beginning 
of warm weather, and father, who thought 
Geofpry’s opinion infallible in everything, 
asked him “ where lie would advise us to 
go for (lie summer?” 
I had made up my mind to go to Cape 
May, and 1 said so, very distinctly; hut 
Geoffry look no notice of my wishes and 
of his meek and mild ways, “ as yon like, 
dear; that gray thing you have on looks 
pretty well, and does not show the dirt.” 
After this remark, of course I had every 
trunk, bonnet-box and satchel taken up 
stairs; and the noise and confusion, and 
even the occasional bad word their size and 
weight called forth, was quite soothing and 
grateful to me. 
“ It is not my fault,” I explained, “ if 
people will build staircases like corkscrews 
—I am not responsible." 
In this amiable mood we took possession, 
and I think if Geoffry had known what 
I was thinking about it, as 1 did my hair 
and put on my while evening dress, lie 
would have lost a trifle of his self-compla¬ 
cency—that is, if men ever do make a loss 
of that kind. The first thing that pleased 
me was the supper. It really was good ; 
particularly the berries and cream, which 
are a specialty with me. I was in an ap- 
We discussed this proposal every day, and 
one day in the middle of one of these pleas¬ 
ant talks, a servant came in and handed me 
a card. The name on it roused at once all 
the antagonism iu my nature. It was 
“ Geoffry Gardiner." 
Now it so happened that the existence of 
this gentleman was the one thing I had kept 
back in my confidences with Mary. So I 
had now to explain who and what he was. 
I wanted her to come into the parlor with 
me; lint no, she would go home first and 
dress and he hack in time for tea, which we 
always took at nightfall in our own sitting- 
room. 
I disliked Geoffry, and yet I was glad 
to see him. My mental faculties were rust¬ 
ing for want of some attrition. Father 
would not quarrel with me, and Mary was 
my only face card; I could not throw her 
away. Besides, I rather liked to see his 
great handsome figure in the room. 1 le was 
pio.ichahle temper alter them, and willing so full of life that he seemed to vitalize even 
to allow all the good points in the place. the chairs and stools; they tumbled about 
“But, father,” I inquired, “are there any and got out of his way in tbe strangest 
Christians here beside ourselves?" 
“It is to be hoped so, Olive. I saw a 
little church at the foot of the hill.” 
“Pshaw, father! I did not mean Church 
Christians; I meant Society Cluistians.” 
“Ah! so you think they are different, do 
yon ? What do you think of Augusta 
Pennington for a Christian?” 
“Augusta Pennington! Is she here?” 
1 asked in amazement. 
“No, she is not; but her brother lives 
within two miles, and he has a daughter 
about the same age as yourself, Mrs. Pen¬ 
nington wrote them we should be here to¬ 
day; they will doubtless call in the morning.” 
“ Well! 1 did not care if they did. The 
dresses in my trunks were of a stylo and 
make sufficient to inspire any woman with 
comfortable satisfaction. The next morn¬ 
ing I made a beautiful toilet. The people 
in the dining-room wondered, if they did 
not appreciate it; but neither Mr. nor Miss 
Lacklles called. Just at lumplighliiig I 
heard a little stir and bustle on the. stairs, a 
sweet, rippling lauglj, the rustle of silken 
robes, and leaning on her father's arm Miss 
Lacklles entered. She was beautiful; I 
saw that at a glance. Her eyes were soft 
mid large, and brown, and she had a trick 
of casting them down, and then suddenly 
flashing them in your face, which must have 
had some peculiar charm in it; for I noticed 
that much as it bewildered them, the gentle¬ 
men liked It. She was tall and pale, and 
lady-like, reminding you of a fair white lily. 
Such was Mary Laoelles; and being such 
I gave up at Once all my intentions of 
patronizing her; hut we soon struck up a 
friendship — a girl’s friendship, I mean. 
Some one has said that ‘ there is no friend¬ 
ship between the sexes,’ and * some one,’ I 
think, is mistaken ; for the world holds no 
safer friend for a woman than an honorable 
man. A woman’s friendship is very likely 
to he the result, as Mary’s and mine did, as 
one of convenience, contiguity, or of being, 
as lather rather sneeiingly remarked, “ That 
of the only Christians within hail of eacli 
other.” Mary showed me all her dresses, 
and told me all her secrets, and I returned 
the Compliment, mindful, however, of Robt. 
Burn’s advice. 
"Ay, froo-off han’ your story tell, 
When wi a bosom crony, 
lint still keep xometltlng to yourxcV, 
Ye wad mi tell to ony." 
I have said nothing of Mr. Laoelles be¬ 
cause he was just another of the stereotyped 
Virginian gentleman—courteous and hospil- 
y day, and “ I could carry you myself.” 
liese pleas- “ Could you ? I don’t think you would 
anded me enjoy the journey.” 
t once all “ Will you dare me to do it?” 
It was “ Not to-night; I should like to insure my 
life first.” 
istence of “Olive, you have been crying.” 
[ had kept “I have not, sir,” indignantly; “and if 
ry. So I I have, what is that to you?” reproach- 
t lie was. fully. 
arlor with “ A great deal. Oh, Oi.tve ! you teazing, 
; first and bewitching, provoking little mortal. Can’t 
vliich we you see how madly I love you? Do marry 
n sitting- me, my darling.” 
“ It is not six months since the last time, 
was glad Geoffry.” 
rare rust- “ I don’t care; it looks like six years; and 
Father Olive I can’t and won’t bear this any lon- 
[ary was ger. You know you love me.” 
hrow her “ I do not.” 
.) see his “ A on have loved me ever since you were 
lie was eight years old.” 
alize even “ I have not.” 
led about Now you must take me forever, or leave 
strangest me forever, to-night. I have asked you 
manner. I confess too, that I had missed three times before.” 
him at our quiet tea table. There was no¬ 
body to argue with father or contradict the 
“ Four times, sir.” 
“Well, four times 
Odd numbers 
newspapers; nobody to throw the cream are lucky, here is the fifth. You know what 
over or tread on my skirts, or do anything 1 want, Olive— your promise to be mine. 
to break the calmly-propcr routine of our 
bread and butter. I told him about Mary 
Laceli.es, and warned him that he would 
lose his heart; and he gravely told me that 
lie had none to lose. 
Is it to be, Now or Never?” 
T suppose ever)' one has a good angel; 
mine must have been at its post just then, 
for a strange feeling of humility and gentle¬ 
ness came over me. 1 glanced up at the 
Imagine six feet two inches of humanity handsome face, all aglow with Lov 
without a heart! 
We waited tea for Mary, hut she did not 
come till quite dark, and we had begun tea. 
She said she had been detained by company, 
but I knew better than that. She was dressed 
with refereuco to candle-light effect, and 
would not lose its influence on her first np- 
vine light; at the eyes full of gracious en- 
irnity ; at the arms half stretched out to en¬ 
fold me. Yet Pride struggled hard with 
Love. 1 stood up silent and trembling, 
quite unable to acknowledge myself van¬ 
quished, until I saw him turn away grieved 
and sorrowful; then 1 said, “Geoffry, 
pearance. I never saw her look so lovely, love! Come back ; it is Now.” 
Talk about “Beauty unadorned !” Give me That is the way I said “ Yes;” and I have 
Beauty iu silken robes and line laces. At never been sorry for it. My temper gives 
any rate, Mary’s rose-colored dress, with we a good deal of trouble yet, and if I live 
its broad glancing bands of white silk, won- t<> be the age of Methuselah I shall never 
derfully enhanced her charms. Geoffry be a meek woman ; but still I suit Geoffry, 
looked delighted, and she gave him the full and 1 take more kindly to his authority than 
benefit of her upward and downward 
glance. Then she retired to an open win¬ 
dow. She would drink her tea there, the 
breeze was so delightful; and of course, 
Geoffry having carried her cup to her, 
bod no resource but to take his own and 
stand beside her. When tea was over, 1 
Went out of the room a tow minutes, and 
when 1 leturned found Geoffry and Mary 
silting opposite each other with the chess¬ 
board between them as an excuse for flirt a- 
tion. The move had been so rapid that i 
was astonished, and a little angry too; and 
father did not improve matters by whisper¬ 
ing, as I passed his chair, “ Check-mated, 
Olive.” 
It was not a pleasant evening to me, and 
it was the beginning of many unpleasant 
ones. 
“ How it came let doctors tell;” but I be¬ 
gan to like Geoffry just as soon as he 
began to like Mary. 1 called up Pride to 
the rescue, but. it did not help me much; 
and I suffered a good deal iu watching 
Geoffry’s attentions to Mary and listening 
to her prattle about him. I thought her 
supremely silly, and I told her so. She was 
astonished at my petulance, but 1 don’t 
think she suspected the truth. Only father 
did t hat, and lie looked so, “ Serve you right, 
miss,” that I longed for him to be a woman for 
an hour or so, that 1 could talk back to him. 
One day after Geoffry had been a month 
ever 1 did to the paternal rule. Father 
laughs with shy triumph at Geoffuy’s vie* 
tory; and he sent me as a wedding present 
a splendid copy of the “Taming of the 
Shrew.” 
®lit antr 
uni or. 
proposed some out-of-the-way place among genuemun—couneous aim nospn- one nay alter geoffry had been a month 
the Virginian mountains. Then he painted ?V le \ with a stro "S stmiu of despotism iu with us, and we were beginning to think of 
it in such unnatural colors that nothing . character; the natural result of genera- going home again, a riding party was pro- 
would satisfy father Imt a personal invest!- 1,0,18 <>f poWer 80 (k8polic as to be able to posed to the top of the mountain. Father 
gallon. It was all Geoffry’s doing, and I f y to a " aromid ’ “ Come ” and th ^ came; and 1, Geoffry and MARY-that would be 
told him so at the railway station “Tt is ' ’, aud tk,y went; “ Drt ,his '” and il the order, of course, and I was prepared for 
your doing, sir,” I said, “ and l shall remem- T" 1 ° ne ‘ 1 he , s,luallou of centurion or that; but there is a last straw in every bur¬ 
lier you for it” slaveowner would have suited me exactly, den, and my last straw was this incident: 
“Thanks, Olive,” he replied - “there is ( p wr y.-How would it have agreed with They were mounted and waiting for me 
nothing I fear so much as forgetfulness » “ r ?,°° r uuder auLjl0,i ^ wl,en Mauy dr <>PPed her gauntlet. From 
7 . , . , , . . Lite settled down into an unexciting, but my window I saw Geoffry nick it un nut 
tn im i^T l , 11 ,”’ tl,e e,uUmil,k Mary and I visited each it on the little hand laid in his! and then kiss 
moved and I felt it would only be other, read novels, aud arranged our next it. After that 1 was not going to ride for 
lion* and lT lifled his^tff T‘ V ^ wiul0r ’ 8 campaign; for 1 had invited her to “ King nor Kaiser” I sent a" positive re- 
, Q pi? and snnled us P ass tt» cold weather with me in New fusal to all entreaties, aud only longed for 
:r£ lf 1 bad glVeU him twenty rea - York. And I think it was very good na- them to get out of nyl sight, soVat I might 
it in such unnatural colors that nothing 
would satisfy father hut a personal investi¬ 
gation. Ii was all Geoffry’s doing, and I 
told him so at the railway station. “It is 
your doing, sir,” I said, “ aud l shall remem¬ 
ber you for it.” 
“ Thanks, Olive,” lie replied; “ there is 
nothing I fear so much as forgetfulness.” 
1 wanted to speak saucy to him, but the 
train moved and I felt it would only be 
a waste of material; so I looked my indigna¬ 
tion, and lie lifted Ids hat and smiled as 
sweetly as if 1 had given him twenty rea¬ 
sons for it. 
A t the end of the second day we got to 
our destination. It teas a pretty place, I 
must acknowledge that. Nature had done 
all she could for it; but Art and Civilization 
had passed it by. The men were simply 
“ frights,” and the women were—well, none 
too good for the men. The houses were 
log cabins through which daylight peeped, 
and the wind blew wherever it listed. But 
of course there was a big, white hotel_ 
there always is; I have no doubt, if we had 
gone to Tahlequah or Bannock City, we 
should have found a hotel and a proprietor 
—the institution is ubiquitary. We pro¬ 
BREAD-AND-CHEESE AND KISSES. 
One duy, when I came home fatigued, 
And tell inclined to grumble, 
Beeunse my life was one of toil, 
Because my lot was bumble, 
I Said to Kate, my durltug wife, 
In whom my whole life’s bliss is, 
“ Wlmt have you got for dinner. Kate?” 
’* Why, bi'ead-and-ehoose and kisses.” 
Though worn arid tired, mj heart leaped up 
As those plain words she uuered. 
Why should J envy those whose bread 
Than mine's more thickly buttered ? 
I said, “ We'll have dessert at once.” 
“ What’s that?” she asked, “ Why this is. ” 
1 kissed her. All, what sweeter meal 
Thun braid-aud-cbeese and kisses? 
1 gazed at her with pure delight; 
She nodded and smiled gaily; 
1 said, “My love, on such a meal 
I'd dine with pleasure dully : 
When I but think of you, dear girl, 
I pity those Une misses 
Who turn their noses tjp and pout 
At bread-Und-elioese and kisses. 
And when I look on your dear form 
And on your face so homely ; 
And when I look iu your dear eyes. 
And on your dress so comely; 
And when 1 hold you In my arms, 
I laugh at Fortune’s misses, 
I’m blessed in you, content with you, 
And breod-und-cheese and kisses.” 
[ Selected. 
- 4 ~*~*- 
GOOD-NATURED PARAGRAPHS. 
Why She Didn’t Have a Goose. 
’i oung lady (to Mr. Septimus Softington.) 
thee, Meary, how do’est thee think that oud 
1 and la’am as I be, I can go raunging all o’er 
heaven to find thy first husband?” 
Couldn't Find the Verdict. 
At a recent session of one of the courts of 
Soutii Carolina, an entire negro jury was 
f empanelled. A case was brought before 
them, the witnesses examined, and the at¬ 
torneys made their respective arguments. 
The Judge, after laying down the law and 
recapitulating the testimony, gave the papers 
. into the hands of the foreman, a rather intel¬ 
ligent looking darkey, with instructions as 
soon as they found a verdict to bring it in 
without fail. 
Thirty minutes or more elapsed, when the 
jury returned, headed by the foreman, and 
stood before the Judge. 
As the foreman appeared to hesitate, the 
Judge inquired: 
“ Mr. Foreman, have you found a ver¬ 
dict ? ” 
“No, massa Judge, we habn’t found ’em 
no how,” replied the ebony juryman. 
“ It’s a very plain case,” said the Judge. 
“ Can’t help it, massa; couldn’t see it,” re¬ 
plied ebony again. 
“On what grounds?” inquired the Judge. 
“We don’t look in de grouns, massa 
Judge,” replied the foreman; “deossiferdid 
uot take us out into de grouns, but he took 
us into a room and locked us in, and told 11 s 
when we found de verdie he would leave us 
out, so we begun to find de verdie, and search 
ebery nook, corner and ere vis, and ebery ling 
was iu dat room, but we found no verdie— 
no miffin’ oh de kind dur.” 
Josh Hilling*’ “ A lirinnnx.” 
[OFFICIAL BTZZNKS9.] 
Offls's ov “JOSH BILLINGS FARMERS i 
ALLMAN A A for 1871.” J 
Mi Dear Editor : —Sum men are horn 
grate, sum git grate after they arc born, sum 
have grateness hove upon them, aud sum 
aint troubled with neither. 
But (mi dear pliello) the ohjekt in writing 
this epistol is not this, hut to inform you that 
i shall let loose about the middle ov Okto- 
ber, 1870, “Josh Billing’s Farmers All- 
MANAX FOR 1871.” 
No family who keeps a two boss carriage, 
should be without this Allmanax. 
Az ansluml Knower, phull of phaith, let 
slip the pure and innocent duv from his Ark, 
so doth i let siip this Allmanax, and hope it 
wont come back. All good housewifes will 
find in this Allmanax, how to train up their 
husbands in the way they should go, and 
they wont, depart from it, and also how tew 
make a lively slap jax. 
To the weary wanderer this Allmanax 
will be a gide board, showing the nearest 
cut to the next town, and to the sorry, a 
soda fountain ov giinnastie delight. 
This Allmanax gives the biography, eti- 
mology, syntax, and prosidy ov hugs, beasts, 
and little cod fishes, and tells us, with the 
fondness ov a step parent, the right time to 
trade oph a dog. 
In konklushun, it gives me grate plezzure 
tew remark, 
That kussid are lobsters and milk for sup¬ 
per, for they hav no bowells ov mercy, nor 
mercy for bowells. 
With grate flexibility of karacter, I am 
your limber friend. Josh Billings, 
Allminacter. 
The Foolish Thiuu Snmttoii Dill. 
An amusing incident occurred recently at 
a rural school. The subject was the history 
of Samson, and the question, “ What foolish 
thing did Samson do?” Expectation was on 
tiptoe to ascertain his peculiar weakness, 
when from a front seat came the reply,given 
with a solemn preciseness ami irresistibly 
ludicrous accent, “ lie went down among 
the Philistines and got a wife!" 
The Pillow* ar Cape May. 
It is said that, a man who was staving at 
one of the Cape May hotels last week woke 
tured in me to do so, for I did not, really indulge in a good refreshing cr\ r . 
care much about her, yet I had been touched, As soon as I was sure they 
womanly, by her description of matrimo- gone, I threw off my habit a 
nial chances available iu the neighborhood, pinned my chignon aud then tl. 
W by, Olive, she said, “ There is liter- lace downward on the bed. I c 
ally no one, even to flirt with. Young Pey* to sleep, and woke about dusk c 
ton used to be a good beau; but since calmed and with a new-born pui 
freedom, his whole soul is in steam-plows heart, which comforted me worn 
and bone-dust. Then there is the man who key note of which was “ She stc 
keeps the variety store at Four Comers and quor.” Yet I did not dress agai 
the Methodist preacher. 1 had some slight they were to stop to tea at Mr. 
Hopes when this hotel was building of a and so I threw my dressing gown 
‘ gentlemanly proprietor;’ but you see bow and taking “Red as a Rose is S 
shamefully I was disappointed in the crea- hand, 1 ordered a good cup of stn 
HTGll t rntn n! til*. ~ _ A _ 1 
—the institution is ubiquitary. We pro- ture” 
cured rooms, and my trunks were, with I could not help smiling at her descrip- 
same i it cully, got up the hill and tbe flight lion, and sympathizing in her situation, so I 
“ , r r ’ nu men KUi6 >’ (>,J ,lot to accept our invitation to dinner on 
jt. After that 1 was not going to ride for Sunday. We only had a nasty piece of 
Aing nor kaiser, I sent a positive re- roast beef, but if you had come we should 
tusal to all entreaties, aud only longed for have had a goose /” 
them to gel out of my sight, so that I might J_ 
indulge in a good refreshing cry. Finding Her First Husband. 
As soon as I was sure they were fairly The Rev. E. L-1, who resided some 
gone, I threw off my habit and hat, un- years at Hampton Court, near London, had 
pinned my chignon aud then threw myself an old parishioner and communicant, whom 
lace downward on the bed. I cried myself he had been visiting during a short illness, 
to sleep, and woke about dusk considerably At last the medical attendant called and in- 
calmed and with a new-born purpose in my formed Mr. L-1 that, the old man was 
heart., which comforted me wonderfully, the dying; whereupon be immediately went to 
key note of which was, “She stoops to con- him to administer the sacrament; alter 
quer.” Yet I did not dress again. I knew which he told the. old man’s wife lliat her 
they were to stop to tea at Mr. Lacelle’s, husband would not live long, and if there 
and so I threw my dressing gown around me was anything she wished to say to him, she 
and taking “ Red as a Rose is She ” in my had better do it whilst he was able to under¬ 
hand, 1 ordered a good cup of strong tea and stand her. 
went into the sitting-room. As I walked in She immediately went to his bedside and 
at one door, Geoffry walked in at the said, “ John, Mr. L-1 says you’re goin’ to 
oll * er ' dee. I wish when you git to heaven you’d 
I came to take you up to Mr. Lacelle’s, lookout for my first husband and tell him 
—“Oli, Mr. Septimus! it was too bad of up one morning and couldn’t fiud bis pillow 
of wooden steps, and landed iu the hall. 
“ I suppose,” I said, with a resigned look 
at father, “ there is no use taking them up 
stairs. What possible use can I have for 
my dresses here ?” 
“ As you like, Olive,” he replied, in one 
answered, “ Keep the variety clerk and the “ I came to take you up I 
Methodist preacher for the forlorn hope, Olive,” he said. 
Mary. Come with me next winter into the “ How do you propose doing it sir? For 
great, market, place ot New York society; unless you tie me hand and foot and get a 
depend upon it some one will hire you, couple of darkies to ‘tote’ me there, your 
Ueai ’ chances of success are small.” 
anywhere. Just as be was about giving up 
tbe search, he put bis band to bis head and 
found that the pillow had got jammed in 
his ear. The regulation allowance at a Cape 
May hotel is one feather for a pillow aud 
two for a bolster. 
Remedy lor Rheumatism. 
A negro had a severe attack of rheuma¬ 
tism, which finally settled in his foot. He 
bathed it, be rubbed it, and swathed it, hut 
all to no purpose. Finally, tearing away 
the bandage, he stuck it out, and with a 
shake of his fist over it, he exclaimed:— 
“Ache away, den, ole feller, ache away; I 
shan’t do nuffin more for yer; his chile can 
stan it as long as you ken.” 
I’ve been doin’ pratty well sin’ he iaft me, 
an’ I often wish 1 might see him agin.’ ” 
The old man turned his eyes upon his 
wife with a deprecating expression, and 
raising himself a little, replied, “ Lord help 
1776—1870. 
Dr. Franklin described the farmer’s 
condition, in 1776, as follows; 
“ Farmer at the plow. 
Wife milking cow; 
Daughters spinning yarn, 
Buys threshing in the barn— 
All happy to a charm.” 
Another gives the account of 1870 as fol¬ 
lows: 
“ The farmer gone to see a show, 
His daughter at the piano: 
Madam gaily dressed In satin— 
All the boys are learning Latin, 
With a mortgage on the furm.” 
