%wtton gpecttttor.PUBLISHED EVERY TUEBDAY HORNING,

BY _*. MATJiZY -teOO.

BATES OF STOSCEIPTIO".The snbsoripUon price of the BrßOiAloa la

m&.OO A- YEAR,STRICTLY ll* ADVANCE.

_»- When payments arenet made strictly laThrie Dollars will be charged.

Bar Anyonesendingns itvb new subscribersmd $10, will receive a copy of the paper foroneyear, gratis.

VOL. 56.

StauntonSTAUNTON, VA., TUESDAY, JUNE 24, 1879.

Spectator.NO. 40.

1ftoitnton 3ytctotor.*\u25a0-- -|--r-g-iin \u25a0ii.ni.rir.il. . v .n -i »?^

bates of advebtisuib.Advertisements will be Inserted at tim r-taofil.oo per square of eight lines oTless for thefirst insertion, and 50 cents for each nutMeansntInsertion. ?

Ag- A liberal discount will be made on advartisements published for3,6, or 12months.aa- special Notices will be Inserted at dou-ble the advertising rates.*9-Obituaries Announcements ofCandidatesfor office, and all communications ofa personalor private character, will be charged for aa ad-vertisements,Address?"Sts-anton Spectator," SUsnton, Ts.

PROFESSION AL DIRECTORY.1 » » \u25a0?

SAMI EL M. BXF.I.TZEB.ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,STAUBTOB, V_.

OFFICE at 100 Augur* t» atreet. nov-t-lyWM. A. HUDBo***. WX. PATBIOB.

HUDSON * PATBHTK.ATTORNEYt3-AT-IaAW.STAUNTON, VaV.,Will practloe in the Courts of Augustaand ad-Joining counties. Special attention paid tocollections.

________

J. B. OUT. B. th BABBISK.

Gr*7* *ATTORNEYB-AT-LAW,Staunton, Va

Office ln Sullivan Building 2nd floor, Auguaa Street. deosV-tf

A LEX. H. 11. STUART.A ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,Havingrecovered his health, and retired tram.

fiublic life, will hereafter give diligent atten-ion to such causes in chancery, aad la the

Court of Appeals at Staunton, aa may be en-trusted to his care. ao3MtJ, R. TUOKHSL H- Bl>. 080. TtTCXKB,

Lexington, Vft. Staunton, Va.rjlliC M^^^*£ Y*^AT-LA"W,

STAUUTON, V*.,Will pra<atioe ln the Courts of Augustaand theadjoining eoun-es. Alsoln the Ceurt of Alt-peals of Virginia, andwill attend regularly theCircuit Court* of Rockbridge. au_t-tf

B. X. TBOUT. . W. B. OLAie.

TBOUT -* CKAIO,ATTORNEYB-AT-LA"W,

Staunton, VaIWe have entered Into Partnership as

lawyers, occupying the old Offices of the Seniormember. The Juniormember wIU aid In con-ducting the old business.

49- Particular attention given to collections.jeis-tf

AHf. HJSNKLE, M. D..? PHYBICIAN AND 80R_B0N,

STAUNTON, VA.,Respectfully tenders his professional services toIh6 public,and may be consultad athis officeatall hours.*_-Bpecial attention given to Surgery.

OrricE?ln his new building on Frederick»t between Augusta and Water streets,

febI?ly

H. K. MATHEWS. ALEX. V. MATMEWB.MATHEWS * MATU-WS.A»ORNKY**-AT-LA"W",

Lkvisbubo. West Va.,practice regularly ln the Courts of Greenbrier,Monroe, Pocahontas and Nicholas counties, W.Va., the Court of Appeals, and the FederalCourts for the District of W. Va.

sarParticular attention paid to Collectionsnd to special cases anywhere ln their State,may 17?ly

GEORGE M. HARRIRON,ATTOI_N_Y-AT-IaAW,

Stauuton, Va.,will practice ln all the Courts holden in Au-gusta county, and ln the Circuit Courts of theadjoining counties.

atS-gtrlct attention given to the collection ofClaims.

Office?No. 10 Lawyer's Bow, Court-houssAlley. oc3l?tf

rpiIOMAS I>. RANSON,A ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,Staunton, Va.

odors his professional services in the Countyand Circuit Courts of Augusta,and in the Hus-tings Courtand the Court of Appeals held inStaunton. Will also prosecute claims else-where throughlegal correspondents in this andother States. may 30?ly.

MEADE F. -WHITE.ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,

Staunton, Va.,Will practice ln the Courts of Augusta, Rock-ingbamand Highland.

Refers, by permission, to the Law Faculty ofthe University of Virginia.

Officeon Court-house Alley. feb 6?ly.

PRESTON A BATLOR,ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,

And Solicitor in Chancery, STAUNTON, VA-

firactlces In all the Courts of Augusta and aid-oining counties.Office?The same formerly occupied by his

father, Col. Geo. Baylor, deed, on Augusta St.,opposite the Court-house. no 21

WM. M. MCALLISTER,ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,

W.bk Springs, Va.Courts?Alleghany, Bath and Highland, Va.,nd Pocahontas, West Virginia.ss-Speclal attention given to collection of

claims and proceeds promptly accounted for.dec23-tf

DR. JAMES JOHNSTON,DENTIST,

Main Street, Staunton, Va.Office:?Over Turner A Harman's Grocery

Btorc. dee 21?tf

T. C ELDER. WM. J. NELSON.ELDER A NELSON,ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW",

and Real Estate Agents,may S Staunton, Va.

RAILROADS.? .h ?

pHESAPEAKE * OHIO RAILWAY.On and after May 25th, 1879, Passen-

ger Trains will run as follows: Mall Traindally except Sunday. Express daily.

GOING EAST.MAIL. EXPRESS.Le. Staunton 2.15 p. m. 1.10 a. m.

" Charlottesville 4.25 " 2.55 ??

" Gordonsville... 5.10 " 3.45 "

Ar. Richmond 8.30 " 7.00 "

Ar. Washington 9.50 " 1.10p.m." Baltimore 11.55 " 3.05 "

" Philadelphia.... 3.40 a. m. 6.50 "

" New York 6.45 " 10.05 "

Kg- Passengers by the Express and .MailTrains connect at Gordonsville for pointsNorth, and by Express Trains at Charlottes-ville lor Lynchburg,and pointsSouth.

GOING WEST.SAIL. EXPRESS.

Le. Staunton 1.85 p. m. 5.35 a. m.- Goshen 2.56 " 6.54 "

' Millboro' 3.35 dinner 7.12 "

" Covington 500 p. in. 8.50 Breakfast." White Sulphur 6.20 " 9.45 "

" Alderson's 9.15 Supper" Hinton 10.50 '? 11.35 "

" Hawk's Nest 2.10 p. m. dinner" Kanawha Falls 3.02 a. m. 2.33 "

" Charleston 6.35 " 4.10 " j" Huntington 9.00 " Ar. 6.30 "

Ar. Cincinnati 6.00 a. m.Connecting with the early trains leaving

Cincinnati.No. 22 leaves Staunton daily, Sundays ex-

cepted at 5.45 a. m., connecting at Charlottes-ville for Lynchburg, arriving ln Lynchburg2.32 p. m., connecting with A. M. A O. R. R.

Via Piedmont Air Line leave Richmond go-ingSouth 10.25 p. m. and 11.40 a. m. Via Atlan-tic Coast Line, leave Richmond at 10.35 p. m.,and 11.35 a. m.

First-Class and Emigrant Tickets to the Westlower and time quicker bythis than any otherroute.'For Tickets and information, applyto or ad-dress

JOHN H. WOODWARD,Ticket Agent,Staunton, Va.CONWAY R. HOWARD,

W. M. S. DUNN, G. P. and T. Agent.Engineer and Supt. may 27

1DRUGS AND MEDICINES.? > . ?

i^^^^^^

VAIaOABIaEITROTHS. WWIf Toaar'ißufTerlnefromgpoor health, or languish-

ingon a bed cf sicknessAakc cheer, lorHop Bitteraflwill Care Yon.

If yon are a mlnlsterßandftave overtaxed yonr-self with your pastoral du-wties ;or a moiher, wornoutwith care aud work,oralf yoa are simply ailing ;

If yoa feel weak aaSßdUplrited, without dear-jknowingwhy, g

llop Bitters willßßestoro You.Ifyou area man of bus-glnoes, weakened by thff

strain of your cverydayßduties; or a inaa of let-ters, tolling over younhiidnlghtwork,

llopBitters willSsircn.tlu-n Yon.If yoa are young, andlsulTcrlna; from any indis-

cretion, orare growingtooyast, as ft often the case.Hop Bitters wilnßelieve Yon.

Ifyoa arc ln the work-flshop,on the farm, at th.ilesK,nny«l!cre,andfeelltha£ your system needscleansing, toning orstlm-galatlng, without iiuoxl-eanus? Hop Bitters ielvVhnt Yoa Need.Ifyoa are old, and yourHpulße Is feeble, your

nerves unsteady,and yourBfacuities waning.Hop Bitters will sire yon New Life and Vieor.

Hop Cocoa Cure la the sweetest, safest and bestg ii Ask Children. HThe Hop Pad for Stomach. Liver and Kidneys Hi

Superior to all others. Itlsperfect. Ask DruggiaUa ,D. I. C Is an.solute and irresistablo cursfor c!raa*£-g

sgnnataua,ascof opium,tobacco aad narcuties. BAll? -onsold by druggist- HopBitten Mfg. Co. R_l_H<r.K.T.[aprl-ly

DR. GEO. ©. WALK£B, sowell and favorably known in Augusta

and adjoining counties, is associated withGEO. W. MAY .ac CO.

ln their drug busintss on Augusta street, oppo-site tbe Augusta National Bank, and will be

61ad to see his many friends at his new place ofuslness. oct°

ADS-WORTH, MARTINEZ * IaOWG-HAN'S

PREPABED PAINT,far economy, beauty of flnlsh, M»bllilj.Is the cheapestand best Paintoffered. GEO. W. MAY 4 CO.,

octß Sole Agents.

\u25a0TIEO. W. M-VY A CO.sell tbe

Jones' Ventilated Truss and Abdomin-al Supporter.

This trues Is nickel platedand will never wearout, and is acknowledged to be the best in themarket. Bend for circulars. octßfri EO. *W. MAY ?- CO., Agents for the

Buffalo __ithia Water,|nst from the Spring octß"f-VB. BAD(]LH*Fi;s SEVEN NKAIaS OF±J OOLDE.V HOMIER. Literally demol-ishespain. GEO, W. MAY & CO., Sole Ageau.

DRUGS AND MEDICINES.

TUTTSPILLS!

INTRODUCED, 1865.

A TORPID LIVERis the fruitful source of many diseasac-, promi-

nent among which areDYSPEPSIA, SICK-HEADACHE, COSTIVENtSS,DYSENTERY, BILIOUS FEVER, AGUE AND FEVER,JAUNDICE, PILES, RHEUMATISM, KIDNEY COM-PLAINT, COLIC, ETC.

SYMPTOMS OF ATORPID LIVER.Loss of Appetite andNausea, the bowelsorecostive, but sometimes alternate withlooseness, Pain in theHead, accompaniedwith a 1)uli aaJ!B__jgj_; tbeback part.Painin the right aid* acd under the showldar-blade,fiilimsi itmrn sii'-Bo,' aißi *--B<**p-.---~clinati onto exertioa ofbody or mind. Irri-tability of tamper, Low spirits, Lossotmemory,with a feelingof havingneglectedaomeduty, Qaneral weariness; Dizziness,Flutteringat the Heart. thoeyes, Yellowjikin, j_aada~hoj**eiierallyover theright eye, Restlessness at nightwith fitful dreams, highly coloredUrine.D? THESE \7A_NI-K53 ARE UNHEEDEDSERIOUS DISEASES WILL SCON BE DEV&CPEO.

TUTT'S PILLSaro especially adapted to suchcases, a single dose effectssuch a ci.ango of feeling as toastonish th9sufferer.

TUTT'S PILLSuxe compouud.d from »nb -faiir.es that arc

I'ree Horn anyprojierliesjlliat can injuriathe n»o»t ileiicatis sirtfws'.aation. TheyHeard., cleanse, Poi io, and liiTisoraioChe entire Sv.tcm. JJy rclievliwj the en-eorged Liver, tliey cleanse tl»e bloodt naaji poi-ouoiishumors, and thus ImpartJinUlh and vitality to the body, ea.U-ln«_tae bowels tis act naturally. without-avhich no ono can fuel well.

A Mcd Divine says:* pr. TUTT:?Dear Sir; For tenyears I have beent. m-_rt> j*t<vQlgiKijilit. Constipation and Piles, LastSpring your Pills were recommended to mo ; I usedthem (butwitb little faith). lam now a Well mun,lfaave good appetite, digestion perfect, rsCW stool-,\u25a0p-i-ps goau. and I -.aregained timypo-iidssolidue-ii.T_tey axe worth fcfcWWf weight m gold.

Rev H. L J-UtPSOX, Louis-nlle, Ky.

TUTT'S PILLS,Their first effect is to fan imam liio Appetite,and cAise the body to 'i'talse on F?e»lj, ihu- th.ejstem isnourinlieil, Bud by liuir Tonic Ac-tion on the I>isre-ti.-e ; ili-*::r.><, -tegularHtools are produced.

DB. J. F, HAYWOOD,OFN.WYORK, SAYS:-

--? Foa, ili-aases exist that cnunotba relieved by re-storing the Liver to its njrmal functions, and fairthispurpose no remedy h?.s ever been invented th-tha- -ah-ppy aneffoci as TUTT'S PILLS."

SOLD EVERYWHERE, PRICE 25 CENTS.Office 35 Murray .Street, Xaw York.

Or-Dr. TUTT'S MANUAL of V_-ul>l« Infor-mation and Useful lieceipta " will be raaiied freeon application.

TUTT'S HAIR DYE.\u25a0Gray Haib ok Weihkeiis changed to a Glossy_Jlack by a single applicati.in ot this I>VK- It im-parts a NaturalColor, acts Insritnt_.iiooiialy, and iaia* Harmless aa spring water. Sold byDruggists, oraunt by express on receiptof iB 1.

Office, 35 Murray St., New York.AamMMmMMuMMMHp%^pMWmsmmMMmmMi9MMm/&m]! OLD AND REUAfifTIJ[Dr; Sanpobd's Lives In-vigoratobSJisa StandardFamily Bemady for 1I [diseases of the Liver, Stomach %**s*3fP<'! ;ond Bowels.?lt is Purely %_jflk* [«[Vegetable.? It never +*£gi i| -TB;Ij [Debilitates?It is _»g MM B M WJ] [J[Cathartic and »«ffl IfS ''

ji \u25a0*? i 8 o°ao*MK ii

£S*4|WlUJP*' * n my practice]!jIUI by tho public,;!gfllW for more than 35 years,]!Smls***** with unprecedented results.]!W^SEND FOR CIRCULAR.]!!$Ss Ts Wa SANFORDi MiDii nzwyobjcoitti

I i IMSBCGOIST WILL TELL YOUITS HKPITITIOJ. j ,

J». JBAMJSSVEGETABLE SICILIAN

HAIRRENEWER

This standard article is compoundedwith thegreatest care.

Its effects are as wonderful and satisfactoryas ever.It restore* gray or faded hair to its youthful

color.It removes all eruptions, Itching and dan-

druff; and tha scalp by its use becomes whiteand clean.

By its tonic properties it restores the capilla-ry glands to their normal vigor, preventingbaldness, and making the hair grow thick andstrong.

As a dressing nothinghas been found so effec-tual, or desirable. ?«-__-_

Dr A A. Hayes, State Assayer of Massachu-setts, says of it:?"l consider it the beslprepara-tion for its intended purposes."

BUCKINGHAM'S DYE,For tbe Whiskers.

This elegantpreparation may be relied on tochange the color of the beard from gray or anyother undesirable shade, to brown or black, atdiscretion. It is easily applied,being in onepreparation, aud quickly and effectually produces a permanent color which will neitherrub nor wa>sh off.

MANUFACTURED BY

R. P. M.-I.lj sfc CO-. Nashua, X. 11.BOLT) BY ALL DRUGGISTS AND DEAL-

ERS IN MEDICINE. Je2s-lyesw

GOOI> NEWS FOR THE I! AIK. GEO.V. MAY & CO. are agents for

OaA-RBOJ-allVli.,Nature's Noblest Remedy, will positivelyproduce a growthof hair ona bald head.

WE oiler to families and contractors, andall who wish topaint,

aPUR-E lead _-ivr> oil.At BOTTOM FIGURES.

OCtS G, W. MAY & CO.

TTENTION FAT HEN.?Use ALLEN'SANTI-FAT. Get rid of your corpulency

?no possible danger from its use. Send forcirculars to GEO. W. MAY A CO.

JH.EBC.KIPTIOIVB accuratelycompoundedand store opened atall hours

the nightand day._

_i._ ._^

octß GEO. W. MAY ft 80.

#POET BY.

LITTLE 80-tNT BLUE ETES.BY T. J. M'-EOGHEOAN.

I'm musing alone in mychamber to-day.And I dream ot the many brightbeauties I've

seen?Those fair, black-eyed daughters of distant Ca-

thay.And the damsels that hall from our Island of

Oreen.Their black eyes would startle a saint from his

trance.They look so bewltchlngjyartless and sly;

But noneof them flash back so gracefula glanceAs the bright little boy with the bonnyblue

eye.

There once was an angel?as least, so I'm told;To Lucifer's conqueror he was akin.

They wanted to give him whole mountains ofgold,

But he shrank back dismayed from thisworld of sin!

This white-wingedangel looked buoyant and?...\u25a0BY?taßßr?-» \u25a0" '"""\u25a0' '\u25a0«'\u25a0\u25a0\u25a0 ----??\u25a0\u25a0\u25a0 - '

His smile seemed a blessing sent down fromthe sky.

It was like a warm sunbeam caressing thewave;

Thus smiles yon sweet child with the bonnyblue eye.

Soft, rich, golden tresses adorn his brow.Like a nimbus encircling a sherub above;

His witchery wins you, I cannot sayhow.But he looks like a bright gleamingspirit of

lovslHe nestles his brow ln his pure mother's breast.

Hid away Ilka the beautiful blossoms that lieBuried deep in the swift-drifting snows of the

West;O, sweet be thy dreams, little bonny blue

eye IMay this blossom, beginningso earlyto bloqm,

Blush on thro' the years with a heavenlyglow,

Unblasted by even one breath from the tomb,Till eternity dawns on our floweret below!

Then, then, when transplanted to realms ofJoy.

May Its fragrance ascend to the throne oahigh,

Till Heaven shall bless us for lovingItsboy.The blithe little, bright little bonnyblue eye.

And when cherubs shall beckon us upward tobliss.

When in rapture our spirits shall heaven-ward fly,

May the first one togreet us with love'sburn-ingkiss

Be our dearlittle, sweet little bonnyblue eye.

THE POOB HAM'S SABBATH DAT.The merry birds are singing.

And from the fragrant sodTho spirits oi a thousand flowers

Go sweetlyup to God;While In his holytemple

We meet topraise and prayWith cheerful voice and grateful lay,

This Summer Sabbath Pay!We thank thee. Lord, forone day

To look heaven ln the face!The poor have only Sunday;

The sweeter Is the grace.'Tls then they make the musicThat sings their week away.

Oh, there's a sweetness InfiniteIn the poor man's Sabbath Day !

'Tis as a burst ofsunshineA tender fall of rain.

That set the barest life a-bloom.Makes old hearts young again.

The dry and dustyroadsideWith smiling flowers so gay;

'Tis open heaven one day ln seven.The poor man's Sabbath Day!

'Tis here the weary pilgrim.Doth reach his house ofease;

That blessed heuse, called "beautiful,"And that soft chamber, "peace".

The River ofLife runs throughhis dream.And the leaves of heaven are atplay!

He sees the golden citygleam,This shiningSabbath Day 1

Take heart the faint and fearful.Your cross with courage bear;

So many a face now tearfulShall shine ln glory there;

Where all the sorrowIs banished,The tears are wipedaway;

And all eternity shall beAnendless Sabbath Day!

Ah! there are emptyplaces.Since last we mingledhere;

There will be missing facesWhen wemeet another year!

But heart to heart, before we part,Now altogether pray

That we may meet ln heaven to spendThe eternal Sabbath Day t

The Lost Baby?A Story of the Frontier.The nameofour littleone was Margue-

rlte.but we calledber LittlePearl, Pbiiipand I. She was our first baby, thedaintiest, deareU little thing that everyou set eyes on cheeks, like half blownrosebuds, hair like rings of sunshine,and eyes as blue as the depths of a Junesky. Darling LittlePearl, how we lovedher. We had been married just a yearandabalfwhen Philip caught tbe west-ern fever.I loved my husband with an intensity

bordering on idolatry, but when he toldme of his intention to leave our beauti-ful cottage and seek bis fortune in thefar West it was a terrible blow to me.?We had lived at Rosedale eversince ourmarriage, and I could see no reasonwhy we could notoontinue tolive there.Truly, the place belonged to my uncle ;but then it would be ours at bis death,and why should Philip fret and chafeso under a foolish sense of dependence?

We had everything?elegant rooms,flowers, birds, pleasure grounds, andservants enough tokeep our hands fromanythinglike labor, and uncle gave itall ungrudgingly. Stillmy husband wasnot content.

"I can't live this life, Bell,'' he said ;"I wasn't made for it. My workawaitsme somewherein the world,and I musthunt it up. My little ones won'trespecttheirfather by-and-by if he is nothingmore than a drone in the hive of life."I was vexed and angry at first, and

said a great many things that were un-wise and unwomanly, but Pbiiip pursu-ed the even tenor ofhis way,all patienceand forbearance. Our preparationsweresoon made, the few things we held mostprecious were packed up, and biddingadieu to our sunny southern home, westarted westward.

The excitement of tho journey, togeth-er with my husband's constant tender-ness and encouragement, reconciled mein a measureto tbe change of life; andwhen we reached our little western cot-tage my impulsive nature, always rush-ing to one extreme or the other, earrledme into an testacy of delight and antici-pation, even beyond any thing my stead-fast husband exhibited. He seemedgreatly relieved to see me growing sothoroughly contented,and webegan ournew life very bravely.

The cottage was comfortable enough,but bare and bumble in comparison towhat we bad hitherto been accustomed;tbe square, whitewashed rooms had adreadfully forlorn look, and the littlekitchen, with its one staring window,and the cooking stove standing in themiddle of the floor, filled me with shud-dering disgust every time I entered it.But I bad made up my mind to endureall and everything, and, as I have said,webegan our new life verybravely.

For the first two or three months |Ihad help, not very efficient help, truly,better far than none. Philip enteredat once upon the practice of law, and ashis office was some distance from homehe did not return until evening, so wehad no great amount of cooking to do,and betweenus we managedtokeep the

cottage tidy and to take care of LittlePearl.

Every afternoon we went tomeet him,taking little Pearl, through the grandand gorgeous prairies, and asoften as hishappy eyes caught sight of us he wouldhasten forward with fond embraces andapproving words.

"Ah, Belle," he would say, "I believeI am the happiest man in the universe;and you are growing contented, too,dear; I can see it in yourbright face."

The glory of autumn faded, and thechill November rains set in, bringingdreary, sunless days, and changing thegorgeous prairie-bloom into endlessleagues of sodden gray. My girl left me,and little Pearl grew cross and fretful inher teething. In addition to hie lawbusiness Philip had gone into farming,and we had twoor three laborers to feedand lodge, which greatly increased thehousewerk. Under tbis accumulationof trials my patience began to give way.I worked lateand early, but I grew mo-rose and fretful, and never had a pleas-ant word for my husband. Buthe nev-er complained.

"PoorBelle!" he would say. "Poor,over-workedlittle wife, be as brave asfou can; better days will come by-and-

y. Just as soon as I get off from mybusiness I'll go to the city and obtainpermanent -help. In the mean timedon't fret the roses from your cheeksand the brightness from youreyes."

But despite my husband's lovingwords and constant help, for be t»ok onehalf the household labor on his ownhands, I continued to murmur at myfate, and one morning thecrisis came.

Breakfast was unusually late, LittlePearl cross to absolute fretfulaess, andthe nick laborer up-stairs in need ofconstant attention; Philip obliged toleave early, and afterceasing aad hush-ing Pearl to sleepI laidher in her daintylittle crib and wentabout my morning'swork.I felt wronged and injured, and while

I worked awaydusting off the soot andashes and scrubbing up the mud thehottears fell so fast as almost to blind me.?My husband had been cruel?heartless,I thought?to take me from a homewhere all was beauty and pleasure andbring me out to that dreadful place towearmy life outin hateful drudgery. Iwould sooner be inmy gravethan to liveon so from yearto year.

In the midst of this despair I heardthe sick man calling from above andhurriedto him. His fever was risingagain. He needed cooling draughts andice-clothsto his head. I went to workto prepare them with nervous haste, ferthe morning was slipping by and thenoon meal must be in readiness for thefarming hands. In the midst of mywork and hurry Little Pearl's sharp,imperativecry camepiping from below.What should I do? I had just spentover half an hour lulling her to sleep,and here she was on my hands again.

"I won't go down," I cried in realanger. "She may have her cry out.?Ob, dear, I wish I had no baby I"

But the instant the unwomanly wishbad passed my lips Irepented of havinguttered it. No baby, noLittle Pearl ! ?

The bare thought filled me with shud-dering terror. Hurriedly administeringtbe sick man's potion, I hastened down,eager to compensate for my unmother-ly words by fond car.ssea.

There stood tbe little cradle in its ac-customed corner, the dainty lace cover-lid thrown back, the pillow still dampand warm from the impress of the curlyhead, but Pearl was gone!

For an instant I stood dumb?breath-less ; then in frantic foolishnessI search-ed therooms, the yard, calling upon thechild's name, as if she could hear andanswerme. And tben at last a happythought broke like sunlight upon me.?My husband had been home, andstolenaway the child to tease me. I set aboutpreparing dinnar, looking every mo-ment to see him come in. In a littlewhile the noon-bell rang, bringing thelaborers from the clearing. I hurriedout to meet them.

"Whereis Mr. Weston?" I question-ed, with my heart in my mouth.

"Haven't seen him, ma'am, siuce thismorning."

"Not seen him? You surely have; he'sgot my baby."

But the men shook their heads, and,catching up my shawl, I hurried off inthe direction ofhis office.

Halfamile from the cottageImet himon his way home.

"Why, Belle," he cried, catching myarm and looking down in consternationat my draggled garments and muddyfeet, "where are you going? What isthe matter?""O, Philip, the baby, Little Pearl,what have you done with her?"

"Done with Little Pearl? Are yougoing-mad, Belle? Tell me what youmean?"

"She's gone?Little Pearl's gone. Icame down stairs and found her littlecradle empty, and I was sure you hadber."

He stood silent a moment, his facegrowing as white and stern as death;then said solemnly.

"No, Belle, 1 haven't seen the child.I haven'tbeen home since morning."

He started on before me, with long,rapid strides, into the cottage, and up tothe little cradle standing in the corner,as if to satisfy his own eyes. Then heturned back to the yard, and began toexamine the tracks in the mud aroundthe doorway. The farm- handswereex-

amining them als6."Moccasin tracks, Boss, said one old

man, significantly, pointing to an in-,denture in the yielding soil. "Injuns,I guess."JMy husband's face grew a shade whiter.

"Yes," he responded, "that's it; comemy lads, we haven't a moment te lose."

He started off, followed by the labor-ers, but a few rods from the house heturned back.

"Poor Belle," he said, putting bisarms round me, "this is terrible foryou,but you must be strong, and hopefor tbebest. The Indians have passed here,anu it was tbey, no doubt, who stole thechild. We must try to intercept thembefore they cross theriver ; we may notbe back to-night; you had better gooverto Mr. Delevan's and stay till we re-turn."

But I did not go. I went into thelonely cottage, and fell on my|knees be-side thelittle emptycrib. God had givenme my wish; I had no baby. Ah, me,the self-torture, the bitterness of thoselong, long hours can never be described.

Morning dawned at last, lurid andmisty; a red sun struggled up throughragged billows of gray fog. About 10o'clock my husband and bis party re-turned, weary haggard, and hopeless.?Tbey had followedthe Indiansall night,but when at lasttheycame up with them,far beyond the river, they could gain notidings of the child; and all our after-efforts were equally unsuccessful. Weoffered rewards, and instituted everymeans of inquiry, but in vain. LittlePearl was gone. I had no baby.

There was ample time for leisure then;no peevish cries, no little baby wants, tooccupy me. But I, who had hated labor,fled to it now as my solerefuge and com-fort. The only ease I found was in con-stant action. My husband worked, too,but his life seemed to have lost its im-pellingforce, its happiest inspiration.

Years went by, and not content withmy simple household duties I tookcharge of a neighboring school; l-tej" 1aided my husband in his office. Mymind expanded; my ideasenlarged. Iwas no longer an indolent, helpless re-piner, but a strong, self-reliant, laboringwoman?a true helpmate for my JIUS"

band. Success crowned our united ef-forts; wealth and renown flowed in up-on us; my husband was elected judgeand spoken of for Congress. But wewere childless; for no more babiescame.

Ten years after our removal to the

West we received intelligence of myuncle's death, and being his only heirswe went down atonce to attend the set-tlement of his estate. Returning home-ward, we made a tour of Niagara andthe principal northern cities.

One September night found usin NewYorkand at the opera. The house wasunusually gay, the music divine, butthrough all the glamourand perfume ofgorgeoustoilets, amid thewailing of themusic and the triumphant strains of tbesingers, I sat unconscious, almost indif-ferent, the old yearning in my heartrousing up to strange and sudden in-tensity. Only one thought possessedme, and that was my lost baby, LittlePearl. I seemed to be living over thatterrible morning and long night again,and my soul criedout for my child witha terrible longing that would not besilenced. Yet in the gay house and ex-quisite music there was nothing sugges-tiveof her short, sweet life; why, then,did she seem so nearto me ? What wasit that shook and thrilled me so?

The opera over, we started for our ho-tel. At oneof the crossings the carriagemadea sudden halt.

Nothiii-j'lut a strap broke loose, allright ml-moment, sir, said the driverin answer to my husband's inquiry.I leaned out while he was arranging

it, looking over the silent city, and upinto the solemn summer night. Thesky wasblue and cloudless, the starsmellow and misty, and a full moonhunglike a golden jewel in tbe far west. Myeyes flll* dwith tears, and an inexpres-sible yearning filled my soul.

"Where is my baby?where is LittlePearl to-night?" I murmured.

"Please, madam, just one penny!"The slender, childish voice, mellow

and sweet as the note of a blackbird,startled me out of my revery, and look-ing down, I saw a tiny figureand an ap-pealing baby-race below in the mistymoonlight.

"Please, madam, I never begged be-fore, but grandmarm is so sick, and she'seat nothing since yesterday."

Just then the driver-sprang to his box,and tbe carriage whirled offagain, leav-ing the little thing farbehind, but Icaught at my husband's arm in breath-less eagerness.

"Philip," I entreated, "stop the car-riage. I must see that child."

"He glanced back hesitatingly, andthere the littlething stood in the moon-light, just as we had left her.""I must, Philip," I repeated; "don't

deny me."And my husband bade the driverturn

back, whiph he did with amuttered im-precation.

"Now, my littlegirl," I said, leaningout and extending my arm, "come here,and tell me how I can help you."

"Grandmarm is sick," she replied,coming close to the wheels and raisingher soft blue eyes to my face, "and sohungry, and I never begged before, ma-dam !"

"And where does your grandma live,dear?"

"Bight down this street, in that rowof tenements."

"Take her up, Philip; we must lookinto this case."

My husband obeyed, and the driver,being promised double pay, turneddowntoward the tenements. I seated the lit-tle girl beside me, and took her littlebrown hand in mine. The bare touchof her slender fingers made the veryblood in my heart thri.'l, and I wantedto clasp ber in my arms and cover herpoor, wan little face with kisses, with alonging that was absolute pain.

"How pretty she is," I safd, smooth-ing back her tangled golden hair thatshaded her white forehead and sweetblue eyes.

"She looks like a frightened bird,"said my husband, smiling; "what willyou do with her, Belle?"

"Keepber forever, if Ican," I replied,with a feeling of intense happiness atmy heart.

Just then we reached the tenements."That's grandmarm'* room," said the

child, pointing upward to a window inwhich a dim light was burning.

We left the carriage and followed herup a long flight of stairs, and into thebare, humble room. In the rude couchlay an old woman, her strong, wornface wearing that pallor which neverknows a change.

"Grandmarm," cried tbe child, run-ning to the bedside, "here's a good, nicelady comeand she'll give you some tea,and you'll pet well now."

The old woman turned her head, hereager eyes fastening themselves upon us.

"Thank God," she murmured. "Ithought I should die and leave heralone."

"What can we do for you, madam?"I asked, bending over her.

"Nothing for me; I'm past help. It'sthe child I want looked after.""Yes, but you must have nourish-

ment. Philip, go out for some tea, andwe'll have a fire at once."

"Woman," she said solemnly, "listento me, lam dying; in a few hours Ishallbe in the otherworld. I could drink adropof wine, but nothing else."

My husband procured it in a few mo-ments, and after drinking it she seemedsomewhat revived.

"Now," she said, "while I'm strongenough, let me speak about the child?when I'm gone she won't have a friendin the world?you look like a rich wo-man, would you "

"I'll take herand be a mother to her,"I interrupted, eagerly.

"Come round here and let me seeyourface."I obeyed,bending down to the dying

eyes that searched my face so keenly.?After a moment she drew a deepbreath.

"Yes," she said, "I can trust you;your face is good and honest?God hassent you?come here, littleBose?this isyour new mother; you must love herand be a good girl when I'm gone."I held out my arms, and the little

thing nestled close to my bosom, look-ing into my face with wondering eyes."I will be good to her," I said; "as

God hears me, I will.""I believe you, and nowI can die in

peace. I should a'been dead long ago,but for leavin' thechild?that kept meback. Sbe ain't a frien' in the world,and she's no flesh and blood o' mine.?Ten years ago, my old man was alivethen and runnin' aflatboatona westernriver, we fell in with aparty of Injuns.They had a white baby with 'em?theprettiest, daintiestlittle thing I everseteye on. I had jest lost my own baby,and I couldn't bear to see them carrytbe poor little thing away, so Ipersuad-ed my old man to buy it. They wereglad enough to sell, so I took the childand raised her as my own. I meant tohunt up her folks, and I nursed it aftermy own baby. I had a great likin' forthe little creature. I couldn't bear togive her up, but I was sorryenough af-ter my old man died, and we come towant. But I've kept the clothes shehad on, and maybe, madam, you mayhear of her people some day."

"Let us see the clothes," gasped myhusband, his face as white as death.

"Look in the box and get 'em, Bose."Tbe child obeyed, bringing a small

bundle carefully wrappedup. I unfoldedit with trembling hands, and then, asmy eyes fell upon the embroideredfrock,the little crimson sack, and the daintyblue shoes?my own baby's clothes?forthefirst time in my life I droppeddownin a dead faint.

When consciousness returned I foundmy husband bending over me with aradiant face, and little Bose?my ownLittle Pearl?closely clasped in his arms."Found at last, Belle," he murmuredtremulously; "God be thanked, we arenot childless!"

A tailorwho was asked if the close ofthe year made him melancholy, saidyes, until they weresettled for.

Immigration to Virginia.

We bublish below a letterfrom J. A.H. St. Andrew, Esq., to Capt. R. Irby,General Agent of the bureau of Immi-gration of Virginia. It shouldbe care-fully read and considered:?

Huntingdonshire, May 22,1879.My Dear Capt. Irby :?

When I wrote to you from Melton-Mowbray, in reply to your kind inqui-ries, it did not occur to me that my ar-rival in Virginia would be too late forurging on the Bureau of Immigrationprompt and effectiveaction for makingknown the advantages of our State tothe immensenumbers ofEuropean far-mers who will attend the InternationalAgricultural Exhibitionin London thissummer. As, however, I sail per the"Ohio" on June 21st, I will not reachVirginia in time to press this matter onthe Bureau, and I therefore hasten topresent to your considerationa few factswhich ought to carry to every candidmind the conviction that Virginia hasnow a grand opportunity, which oughtnot to be lost, for "striking while theiron is hot" In the great Interests of im-migration. 'I havespent severalweeks in visiting

thepurely agricultural districts of OldEngland, and my investigations haveproved beyond all questionthat the greatbulk ofthefarmers throughout Englandand Scotland must sooner or later seekrelief in emigration. The British far-mer has been for several years wedgedin between constantlytightening forces.Rents have gone rapidly upward andlabor has become dearer and dearer.?The farmer cannot live under the exist-ing conditionof affairs. It takes usu-ally many years of bad crops and otherlosses to land an English farmer inbankruptcy. A bankrupt farmer usedto be seldom heard of. Now, however,there are disastrous failureseverywhere,and the honestand industrious agricul-turist is beginning to see only twocourses open to him?insolvency or em-igration. Farms are being thrown upin all directions, and I could mentionwholevillages where the landlordsha>ehad to undertakethecultivation of eve-ry farm on their own account.

Ten years ago whenafarm was vacanttherewould be fifty eager applicants?now there are often fifty farms vainlyseeking tenants. The farmers havekepton hoping that the landlords would re-ducerents, but the Prince of Wales andthe Speaker of the House of Com-mons stand hitherto almost alone inhaving made substantial concessions.?Agriculture is passing through a greateconomical crisis, and it would almostseem that natural causes are bringingabout the socialrevolution advocated byStuart Mill and others, and that in thenet distant future we shall see the classof tenantry largely diminished and theclass of landowners who are also landcultivators largely increased. In themeantime an exodusof English farmersis inevitable.

In all former emigration movementsthe farmers have been the last to takeaction. They arein truth a slow-think-ing and still slower acting race. Theywill never leave their old homesteadsunless driven out. In these timestheyare feeling the whip as never before;they cannot evade the future. Theirprospects are unredeemed by any glim-mer of hopeexcept in the dernier resort?emigration. The vast English emi-gration which has largely peopled thenorthern and western States was sim-ply a movement of labor seeking newemployments. The emigration of theEnglish farmers will be a verydifferentaffair. It will be the transference ofcapital and enterprise from unproduc-tive to reproductive spheres. Withinliving memory there has been no suchstate of things as nowexists.

It cannot be expected that Virginiashould under any circumstances absorbmore than a portion of the emigrationabout to commence. Australia, Cana-da, and New Zealand offer temptingopenings and are incurring expendi-tures in promotion of colonization. Ifthe farmer must, nolens volens "moveon," they will naturally prefer to go tooolonies where they will remain Eng-lishmen and retain their allegiance toQueen and country. They are not thepeople to go to the northern or westernStates, but if they select any of theStates for settlement the probabilitiesare that old Virginia will attract themmost. I submit that we have at least areasonablechance of competing for thefavor of tbe emigrating farmer?achance which no other State in theUnion can expect to have.

The happy conclusion of the Statedebt controversy, which has at lastthrown open the English press to theadvocacy of the cause of Virginia, andwhich has also ended the deadly oppo-sition of Lombard Street to everythingVirginian; the rapid growth of ourmanufactures, the wonderful develop-ment of our mines, especially along theChesapeake and Ohio Bailroad ; the re-duction of the tobacco tax, the peaceand contentment among our colored la-borers, the building of the railroad ofthe State?all these things are eloquentfacts which are significant of "goodtimes coming." The English farmer,loyal above all men to his Queen andcountry, knows that in the Old Domin-ion, as our gifted friend, Gordon Me-1Cabe, Bays. "Ifyou scratch a Virginian jyou find an Englishman.

We have no reason to doubtour suc-cess in immigration if we can only getat the English farmers. Howcan thisbe done? To send agents among themwould be verycostly and would inevita-bly arouse opposition. What Virginiadoes must be done quietly and effective-ly. My opinions have not been formedhastily nor without personal investiga-tion. I place them before the Bureauand the peoplefor what they are worth.

To me, therefore, it appears that theinternational Agricultural Exhibitionis the golden opportunity of Virginia.I have not met a farmer who is not go-ing to see "the great show." Everyvillage and hamlet in the United King-dom will be represented there. Theleading farmers of every Europeancountry will be at the Exposition. Myplan would be to circulate during theExhibition half a million copiesof thefirst report of our agricultural commis-sioner, the Hon. Thomas Pollard. Ihave no hesitation in saying that thesaid report is, for its size, the best docu-ment ever issued in behalf of Virginiaimmigration. It should be revised, nodoubt, but it is literallymultum inparvo.To ascertain the cost of printing thesereports, you can easily arrive at theamount by getting estimates from threelarge firms, and deduct say thirty percent, from the iowest estimate. Theycould not only be printed more cheaplyon this side, but by having them thusprinted the Bureau would avoid all cus-tom-house bother.If the Bureau would take the action

suggested it would not be necessary toincur any great expense in the distribu-tion of the documents. No agent needbe sent here at a cost of several thou-sands of dollars. Virginia has fortu-nately an old and long-tried friend, whois ever ready to help us con amore. Mr.J. M. Holmes, of 86 New Street, Birmingham, has during the past thirteenyears labored earnestly, unselfiishly,and successfully to send us immigrants.Make Mr. Holmes the commissionerofthe Bureau in Europe and I feel fullyauthorized to say?without having con-sulted that gentleman?that he wouldthrow himself heart and soul into thework. Mr. Holmes would, I know,deeply valuesuch a recognition of hisservices to Virginiaas the Bureau couldconfer by this appointment. He onlyneeds asking to willingly superintendthe issuance and distribution of the!

pamphlets for thebare expenses incurr-ed. One or two men would have to beengaged during the exhibition to giveaway the document., but I imaginethat ?400 or $500 would cover all expen-ses over and above the printer's bill.If each railroad in the State wouldcontribute a small sum the Bureaucould easily carry through this greatwork. Once lost, theopportunity willnever recur. Action prompt and im-mediateIs necessary to command suc-cess.

As these are matters of great impor-tance to every citizen, I make no apolo-gy for replying to your courteous in-quiriesin the form of an open letter.Believe me, my dear Capt. Irby,

Yours most faithfully,J. A. H. St. Andrew.

1 . \u25a0»For tne spectator.

The Stuart Papers?No. 8.letters addressed to the late

judge archibald stuart, ofstaunton,

The following was written while Mr.Monroe was United States Minister aiLondon:

London, April 18, 1804.Dear Sir :?I feel a very great desire

while I am here to be useful to all myold friends, as far as I may be able.In that sentiment I naturally look tothose ofmy early life, and especiallysuch as it may possibly be in my powerto serve. You may want books or someotherobjects, in which myself or Mrs.Monroe may render service to you orMrs. Stuart. If such should be thecase, I beg of you to command me. Ifany of our friends of the court, withwhom we both stand on tbe best foot-ing, should have the same desire, itwould also give me pleasureto obey theircommands. In tbe articie of money,you know, I nover was among the for-tunate. Here I am particularly other-wise, from the great expense attend-ing my situation, or rather a subsist-ence, in this country. Still, if you finda convenience in my advancing it foryou, I will most willingly do it.

The wisdom and virtue of our presentadministration will, I think, advancethe prosperity of our country to thegreatest possible height. Itwili confirmthe republican system at home, andmake it more respectable abroad. Wecertainly never held the high ground inEurope that we now do. Our flag is re-spected by both parties, and we enjoyfriendship with both.It will give me great pleasure to hearfrom you. Present our best regards to

Mrs. Stuart and family, as also to Mr.Coalter and Mr. Kinney. When didyou see John Monroe? When you do,remember me to him. How does heget on, and how are his family. I am,dear sir, sincerely your friend and ser-vant, Jas. Monroe.

The watch referred to in the follow-ing letter is worn at this day by theHon. Alex. H. H. Stuart, and has thename "JamesMonroe" engraved on theinner case:

London, Sept. 22, 1804.My Dear Sir :?About the time that

yours of April 15th reached me, youwill have received one from me, whichanticipated your object respecting awatch or any other object which youmight desire me to procure foryou here.I ordered one immediately on the re-ceipt of yours of a Mr. Barwix, who isconsidered one of the best workmenhere, which he has just finished, and isnow forwarded to you by Mr. Sergeant,ofPetersburg. He promises to takegoodcare of and deliver her to you. The ar-tist made her for me, on the suppositionthat being on the ground, he would becareful she was well done. She is aplain watch, double cased, and he saysas good as he can make her. She cost25 guineas, which is thought cheap. Beso good as inform me how she answersthe expectation entertained of her.That sum you wiil be pleased to pay toMajor Lewis, who acts for me in Albe-marle.

Our affairs here stand on a good foot-ing. Our commerce is less interruptedthan it used to be, and this govern-ment and country seem satisfied that itis the wish of ours to preserve peaceand friendship with them. The con-duct which I have pursued here, by or-der of our government, has been perfect-ly conciliatory, and I have observed itwith pleasure, ln the hope that the ef-fect would not only prove beneficent atpresent, but tend to dissipate foreverprejudices which pa9t occurrences ereated and fostered. If our present ad-ministration was unfriendly to thiscountry, there never was a time whenit had it so muchin its power to indulgethat propensity. Its conduct, however,has been of a very different character.lam persuaded that it is seen by Eu-rope, and generally admitted, that itsacts, in reference to the parties to thewar, are fair and impartial, and thatin all other relations with the powers ofEurope, we are entitled to considerationand respect by the general integrity ofour conduct, and by the attention andrespect which is shown to each of themby our government. It is a circum-stance ofpeculiar good fortune, that notsolely for themselves, or even perhapstheir country, but of mankind, thatthose now in power in the UnitedStateshave been called there at the presentspoch. It was important while we arer'oung and virtuous and capableof judg-ng (I speak of the whole American

people) that an appeal should be made;o their good sense of the efficiency ofrepublican government by an experi-ment under an administration which isievoted to it. So far that experimentnas verified the expectationsof the mostsanguine, and that it will continue toio so I have no doubt. It promises tooe the more successful, because at thesame time that it gives the greatest ef-fect to our own principles at home, itivoids all interference with the interiorsf foreign governments, with whom,indeed, we neverstood on better ground.I hope that the course of our affairs willtend to put an end to party divisionsimong us?nine-tenths, perhaps 99 of100 on each side, have meant thesame thing, the good of our country.Some have thought that the end was at-tainable in one mode, some in another.They were compromitted, their pas-sions were excited, and reason ceasedto rule. Let us profit of what haspassed, adhere to principles whichaught to be equally dear to all, since thehappiness of all dependson their preser-vation. But I shall tire you with re-marks that are too familiar to you to beinserted here.

On the state of European affairs I saynothing. Thepapers give you in general» correct view, and the dreadof anythingfrom me, and indeed the impolicy ofit, getting into the gazettes or becomingpublic, however harmless, restrains mefrom saying much to my friends that Iotherwise should do. It gives me greatpleasure to hear from my friends, thoughbut few ot you writeme. Present our bestregards to your lady, and believe mevery sincerely your friend and servant,

Jas. Monroe.Be so good as forward the enclosed to

John Monroe by a secure conveyance.

Eiave never heardof him since i camem Richmond.

[2b be continued.]J. A. W.

. 1 s> ,

'It is a standing rule ofour church,"d one clergyman to another, "for theiton to wakeup any man that he may

see asleep." "I think," returned theother, "thatit would bemuch better forthe sexton, when a man goes to sleepunder your preaching, to wake youup!"

For the SPSOTATOB.OXLY A FEW MORE.

BY BERTIE VALEHE.Only afew moreyears shall roll

Above this storm-tossed head;Only afew more death-bells toll,'Till mine shall tell I'm with tho dead.Only a few more seasonsroll,From Summer round 'till Spring,And I shall reach that shining goal

Where grief no more shall sting.Onlya few more earthly friends

Shall prove untrue to me.And I shall be where friendship blendsIn one gladcompany.

Onlya few more tears shall fallUnheeded on my way ?

Only a little while, and allLife's shadows pass away.

Only a few more years shall roll'Till I shall meet my God;

Onlya little while, and IShall pass beneath "the rod."

Craigsville, Va., 1879.

For the spectator.Ranch Life In Colorado.

Florissant, El Paso Co., >Colorado, June 9, 1879. /

Imaginative individuals, when pic-turing ranch life in the West, are aptto invest it with romantic charms notits due. They go into ecstacies overtheir fanciful ideal of primitive life inthe Western world, and, Cowper-like,sigh for a lodge in some vast wilder-ness.How delightful, they say, to be freefrom the tiresomerestraintsof etiquette,

and to be released foreverfrom the hate-ful conventionalities of society ! Now,for the benefit of all such enthusiasticpersons, as well as for the informationof more practical individuals, I shallendeavor to give a description of thislifefrom an attentive personal observa-tion.

First, as to the manner in whichranches are settled, and titles acquired.There are, throughout this State, im-tracts of unsurveyed land, upon whichany one is entitled to locate. The would-be ranchman selects a valley suitablefor grazing, and having chosen a sitenear a stream, proceeds to build. Hishouse is usually one story high, is com-posed of roughly hewn logs and mud,and invariably has a dirt roof. The inte-rior arrangements are rude, and to East-ern eyes extremely uncomfortable. Theouthouses consist of a small stable andcorral, and sometimesan ambitious fel-low will erect a hog-pen and chicken-coop. Having made these improve-ments, the ranchman is regularly in-stalled, and spends the remainder ofhis time in watching his cattle.

By-and-by, the United States Sur-veyor comes along and lays off thecountry into sections of a square mileeach.

The land is then said to come intomarket, and the ranchman is entitled toone hundred and sixty acres as hishomestead. He also has the right ofpre-emption over the remainder; thatis, he has the refusal of it at $1.25 peracre. When he has complied with theseconditions, he receives a title directlyfrom the government. The ranchmangets his living almost entirely out ofthe profits received from cattle, horses,and hay. The cattle and horses grazeout the year round, and the owners canonly recognize them by their brand.Hay, by constant irrigation, can begrown in meadow lands, and readilyyields $28 per ton. The general char-acter of the soil is poor. It seems toconsist almost entirely of pulverizedgranite, formed by a system of disinte-gration which is still apparent in therocky districts. Few grains attain per-fection ; vegetables are extremely rare,and fruit is a luxury seldom seen. Irri-gation is resorted to whenever possible,and a copious supply of water seemsabsolutely necessary for successful farm-ing.

The mountains are full of deer, wolves,elk, bear, and other "varmints,"and thestreams abound with excellent trout.There are few birds, however, and ex-perience has shown that it is almostimpossible to raise domestic fowl.There is nothing for them to eat, andmany things to eat them. The onlyvarieties of timber which attain anysize at this altitude (8,200 feet) are fir,hemlock, and pine.

The ranchmen lead a life of hardship,which can only be appreciated whenseen. They not only attend to the domes-tic work, such as washing, cooking, &c.but must also be proficient in manytrades. Practical Knowledge is abso-lutely necessary for men who are calledupon to build their own houses, to makemost of their furniture, to repair har-ness, wagons, &c., and finally to shoetheir own horses. As a rule, they arewide-awake, energetic men, accustomedto make their own way in the world?asking favors of none. They have tocombat a climate extremely severe, asoil miserably unproductive, and a sit-uation which is lonely to desolation.And yet, in disposition, they are cheer-ful ; in hospitality, they are generous ;and in hopes of future wealth, arebuoyant.I have failed to hear from these men

a single complaint of hard times, though,contrasted with them, the agriculturalpopulation of Virginia, from whom somany groans are heard, are rolling inwealth.

Would that we could impart this en-thusiasm, this energy and vim, thisspirit of confidence in self and others,into the Old Dominion. How soonwould a new order of things?a newera ofprosperity?attest its beneficial in-fluence. How soon would glorious factsrefute the doctrines of miserable sore-heads, who, bemoaning the present stateof affairs, assert that Virginia is foreverdead. A. G. S.

Guard Your Conversation.?lfyou say anything about a neighbor orfriend, or even of a stranger, beware ofspeaking ill. It is brotherly charity tosuppress knowledge of evil of one an-other unless our higher public dutycompels us to bear accusing witness;and if it be true charity to keep ourknowledge of such evils to ourselves,much more should we refuse to spreadthe evil report of another. Discredita-ble as the fact is, it is by far the com-mon tendency to suppress the good weknow of our neighbors and friends. Weact in this matter as though we felt thatby pushing our fellows forward weshould injure ourselves. We are jealousof commendation unless we get thelarger share.

Social conversation, as known to ev-ery observer, is largely made up ofwhatis best understood by the term scandal.Itwould be difficult to find a talkativegroup of either sex who could spend anhour together without evil speech ofsomebody. "Blessed are thepeacemak-ers," is not the maximby which we arechiefly governed in our treatment ofpersonalities. Better a thousand timesstand or sit dumb than to open our lipsever so eloquentlyin the disparagementof others. What we should do in this,as in all other human relations, is topractice the golden rule. If we do untoothers as we would that others shoulddo unto us, we shall be exceedinglycareful not to volunteer ill words aboutthem. Where other than a good wordis to be spoken, let it be spoken to theperson concerned, that he may knowyour motive is not idle, cowardly orsinister, and that he may have a chanceto defend himself.

> .» IMany beautiful ladies, when they afe

1walking out, seem angry if they aregazed at, but they are sadly disappoint-ed if they are not.