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willlm'in'omptly attended to : Fancy Bills Business Cards, (JircularsJuw Forlns,_Bill Heads“; Blank Checks, Drafts, Bldnk'llfideré,‘ Receipts, Letter Heads,Fancy Cards, Pamphlets, Large and Small Posts”, and every “they kiml of Letter-Press Print- Uui‘nei' ‘43 g andgfléu'ti'e Btr have wififijfiifiyon'hnfifi a, good assorfmen uf' Drugs, l’aiuts,‘ Perfumery, Chemicals Oils, Toilet Soaps, Medicines, Varnislies Faligyzgri,i:lcs, Dye Stuil's,'l’utent Medicines mil "allot ier articles kept by Lll'uggisha dgiierally, .Duiasltocl; ,of medicines warrant- ed genuiné, and "of the best qualities. Richmond Hill, Jan 25, ’7‘.‘ V _ . 705 ()ne inch, one year”. . .. .. . Two igchlgs, one year. 'l‘hl‘ué‘j‘incilusv, one year... .. Aficfijsfiéfi s for a shorter period All transitory advertisements from 1‘6gil- lar or irregular customers. must be paid iur “wen handed in for insertion. ev'ég, t5; floatest and printifiE-m‘ 'éve'fy déscription aning made large mg nutmial, “we are 1.4“: ~ 'DENTISTIKYJI ii , h A. RUBINSUN’S, L. I). s. '; T‘iw‘fl'achGd of extracting teeth without 1- }“pai’n, Shy the use of Ether Spray,which afiééfl‘ihés bnly. The tooth and gum surroundin becomes insensible with the. extefhfl agincs') when the tooth can be ex- trziétei‘i no pain and without endanger- ing‘thé'fife,"$ 'ih‘ the use of Uhloroform. Dr. Robinson" ’will‘ be 'at the following place- prefia‘i‘efl i) éfim‘ct teeth with his new aps paratus. All ofiice operations in Dentistry performed in :L worknmnlike manner : Aurbrai zliti 313d, 16th and. 22d of each mont Newmarket......... .. 2d ‘ Richmond Hill, 9th and 24th “ ” Mt.Alllv)lcrL....,..‘....,.........15th “ “ ’l‘hor i1 ,. ..23i‘d “ “ Map??? ...-.,..-V..‘.26th a “‘ “ Burwic . . i . i . . . . . .. .. 8th “ “ .29 th “ ‘ Kleiuburg ..30th ' “- “ Nobleton .A All letter; :uldressml to the editors must b: post-paid. Mil (lispululiu l to subsurilmrs by the earliest n‘uils or utlier unn’uynnu‘s, when so desired. 'l‘m: Yum; ll mum; will always be found Lu cuntiiu tlx: latest and most important l‘lumlgu :ml lnuil Nm’s:\.11<l Markets, and Lila grcutcst care will be taken to render it :.;_:cptul)lc to the nun of business, and a. ulu thc lflmiily Newspapcr. 'l‘mnls: 0:1: Dinar per annum in ad- \':).‘la53, if n it pill within two months, one lull w will Fifty Cents will be charged. ' No 1) war (lissontiuued until all ari‘earages are will ; and parties refusing papers with- out' paying up will be llcltl accountable for the subscription. . than one year, insertion” Eachsubscqucut insertiou‘...‘.. H ‘12 inches to be considered one column Advertxsements without written direction Inserted till forbid, and (fllzll‘gml acgordingly. ESTABLISHMENT.- Orders for 1311)} of the undermentioned dos cription of “" Ink: HERALD BOOK & JOB PRINTING mini g Coibrea Job Work realerw-m Drugs, Medicines,“ Groceries ' \Vines, and Liqum‘s, Thornhill. By RuyaF-Letters Pf'afcnt has been appointed Is- sneluuf rhlgxl‘i'iage Licenses. RICHMOND HILL DRUG STORE, D aéwa onfhan‘d thebes} of;Beef, Mutton, Lam , Veal, Burk, Sausages, 810., and sell at thalm‘vgsfg prices for Cash. Nf‘hTrous‘ O’xifl'p' Gab la] Aui'éiffil' "7' : £41m, -Apm-2s::zsv.o 'l‘lm‘fiighcst market price given for Cattle, 8139:? 3k Lhmbs, Syp. I I -Ri(§lxmqfifi Hill, .O'qt. >24, ’72. , 745-ly 1’ Civil Engineer and Draughtsman. _ Orders, by letter should State the Concession, Lot and liamolur of Survey, the subscriber llaV-iug'fife“01d Field Notes of the late D. GIBSON and other surveyors, which should be consulted, in man); cases as to original manumanf’s. c.“ previous to commencing l..: , « work. ‘ M39 ‘ ()0;de and Spiced Beef, Smoked and Ufieav arias: ‘ ’ i V - . . IOfiX’fiA’gRUN; manufacturer and dealer 9 151511 lgn'ds of hgots and shoes, 38 \Vcst Marliqt fiilgc’flforqntu. . Fm 7v ' ' Bootsvand shoes made to measure, of the bust llldtegfi’létfid “Zorlmngmship, at the low- ast remuneratlnu prlcos. , i m ‘i-dil.‘ n ‘01-!- Ofide 5t “'ILLUWDALE, Yunge. Street, in thé TQWRSIQR gin 8170121}. I ‘1- ADAJH ELEYERS, JIL, (£41!de Duygan ES' Meyers,) AIIRISTER,‘ ATTORNEXl A'lflLA‘V, Sowun‘on 13 .L‘amxcnm, L‘()N\_‘EYANCXR, -i 4 &(2 OFFICE; ~f\'u. 12 Yuri; Chambers, South east C(n‘nqx- of Toronto and Court Streets, E very Friday Morning, Jan’y '8, 1873 wJ. H. SANDERSUN, ETERINARY SURGEON, Graduate of ‘Torohto University College, corner of Youge and Centre fits. East, Richmond Hill, 3gs to announce to the public that he is now pracfising with H. Sanderson, of the same place, Where they may be «unsulted arson- ally orbylettc'z', on all diseases of onset, cattle, &cl A11 m'dcl‘fl from a distance promptly at- tended to, and medicine sent to any part of the Province. THE YORK HERALD Alienate?! examined as to soundness, and also bou ht and sold on commission. ehmond Hill, Jan. 25, 1872. 507 FAARETE}KS’{B()b3"AND SHOE STORE Toronto, 0nt_ ‘ J :mnm'y‘ ‘15:] 873 1’1‘1'1‘1<)13_;”s._‘ G1 BSQN, anuguifxll L4;in ‘SURVEYOR, ‘â€"Yn_NuE Sin, RICHMOND HILL heap Book and Job Prz'ntz'ngEstablishmml , kWâ€"m ’f‘ 3: rm.”va Toro;1i0,"D-édg3‘, 1867 U"CHERS, RICHMOND _HILL, HAVE Hi ‘UBI‘ISHER AND PROPBIETOR OF Tum $1 PER ANNUM IN ADVANCE VOL. XVII. $5.11}, $5; . 1:... ~yuusij, (50(‘c12550m'1b_3\". \v. cox,) AD VERTI SING RA T ES DRUGUISI‘S. H. SANDERSON & SUN, "i‘HOMAb ' 0’): iil'e' Gab ' 31w ay 5 ‘tTnga, YORK HmALp “(EPRIE'IO PUBLISHED additions to the print- bettcr prepared than st and most beautiful N0 44 24th 15th 23rd 26th 28th ‘2‘.)[311 30th 0n Land at 615-“ 756-1y s4 00 3 50 3 00 The world's estimate, after all, is an estiâ€" mate of some sort. By our own experience of failure and desire for the sympathy of others, we should interpret the failures which are every day taking place in the Va» rious pursuits of life around us. “'0 fear that we are very apt to be very sellish in our troubles. Imaginuig no grief like our grief, our particular misfortune becomes to us the dark hollow cone through which the experiâ€" ence of others. appears tinged with a brighter sunshine. But our experience should lead us to think that failure of one sort or another is continually going on in the world around us, and help us to understand what failure is to those who fail, not merely in the meney mar- ket, but in anything in society, no matter how trivial ; it may be the loss ofakingdom. or the loss of a lawsuit ; it may cover a field as vast as \Vaterloo or as narrow as the hu- ean heart. To the boy who misses his school-prize, it is like Bonaparte losing his crown. All those manifold efforts and stratagems by which food is first secured, then prepared by the elaborate ingenuity of cooks, then diA gested by the elaborate machinery of the di- gestive apparatus, and then conveyed to various organs by the Wondrous machinery of the circulati011,-are set ageing to bring a litâ€" tle liquid into contact with the delicate membrane of a cell, visible only under the magnifying powers of the microscope. Every organ of the body is composed of millions upon millions of these cells, every one of which lives its separate life, and must be se- parately fed. To feed it thousands of men dig and plow, sow and reap, hunt and fish, rear cattle and slaughter them ; thousands as cooks ; and each has to satisfy the clamorous demands of his own hungry cells. The sim- pler plants floating in water, or the simple parasites living in the liquids of other ani- mals, feed without this bother and this pre- paration. The higher organisms have to devote their energies to secure and to prepare their food, because their simpler cells cannot secure it, and must have it. In man self-in- dulgence and indolence often weaken the digestive machinery, which has therefore to be stimulated into activity by condiments, by flavdrs,‘and by’mental exhilaration ; his meals become a, banquet. The stimulus of festal excitement, the laugh and conversation of a joyous dinner, spur the lazy organs of digest- ion, and enable men to master food which, if eaten in solitude, silence, or sorrow, would lie a heavy lump on the stomach. Eating seems a simple process, until long experience has taught us its complexity. Food seems a very simple process, till science reveals its metamorphoses. Our estimate of man's work Bin the world, may be all summed up in our estimates of failure and of success. Success and failure ‘1 these words cover diverse'meanings, some of them quite limited, some of them very deep. First, there is the world's successrriwhich, of course, to a large degree, must he an estimate from the outside ; and yet it is not therefore necessarily and entirely :1 false estimate. The external success is about all the world has to judge by. Outward achicvenmnt is, in some. sense, the sign of inward power. No man gets plaudits, no man holds his place for any con- siderable length of time, entirely upon a sham. For some time past the clerks at the sta- tion on Fourteenth and M aiu streets, Louis- ville, have been annoyed by goats that Infest the immediate locality. Not satisfied with the other mischief these sly rascals are guilty of, theyjchew all the tags ofl‘the cotton bales sent there for shipment, thereby causing a great deal of trouble in shipping the cotton. The other day the clerks surrounded about a dozen of the goats and succeeded in driving them into a box car alongside the platform and fastening the door. That night there was a ear-load of goats going north, hitched to a freiglit‘train. The'ca'r was left at I115 (lianapolis, and the next day therdoor was thrown open and the goats rushed out and made a raid through the town, upsetting and butting clerks, hands, boxes, bales, etc., as they escaped. Not being apprised of the shipment by way-bill, the Indianapolis clerks chased them all over town, endeavoring to capture them, of course believing the com‘ pany would have to pay for them as “ lost freight ” if they were not caught, By night all were caught and put back in the car. A dispatch was sent to the station man in Louisville, “Send on your way-bill. Got all the goats." A dispatch was sent back promptly, “Don't want any. Let ‘em go.” The race in Indianapolis was said to he Very exciting. An English inventor suggests that we «lis- pose of the sewage of our cities by making gas of it. It is said that whereas it takes to produce nine thousand feet of coal gas a. ton of the best English coal and a large quantity of furnace coal to maintain the requisite heat, to make nine thousand‘feet of the proposed gas, it takes only one hundred and thirty-five pounds of furnace coal, and the necessary amount of sewage, which we may hope is very considerable. The Cost of making one thousand feet of this gasvis expected nowhere to exceed a shilling, and in most places to he as low as Sixpence, sterling. l} ver Watches, Jewelry, ML, 113 Yong: Street, Toronto. “'M. MALLOY, BARRlSTE E, Attorney, Solicitor-in-(‘han cery, Conveyancer, «kc. OFFICEâ€"No. 6 Royal Insurance Buildings, Toronto street. Toronto. Dec. 2, 1859. 594 Sold by Druggists generally. The Dominion \Vorm Candy is the medicine 0 expel worms. Try it. 700»y LSO, the Pain Victox'is lnfallihle for Diarrhoea, Dyfientery, Flax, Colic, Ulolem Morbus, Pain and Cramp in the Stomach and Bowels, &c. Directions with each bottle and box. N ’1ranufacturcd by v H. LIUSTARD," Stands permanently above every other H dy now in use, It is invaluable. D USTARD’S Pills are the best pills you can get for Dyspepsia, Sick Headache, Billiousness, Liver, Kidney Complaints, 8L0. AVE you Rheumatism,\Vounils, Bruises, Old Sores, Cuts, Burns, Frost Bites, Piles, Painful Swelllngs, \Vhite Swellings, and every conceivable wound upon man or beast ‘1 WIIUSTARD’S Catarrh Specific Cures Acute i and Chronic cases of Catarrh, Neuralâ€" gia,Headache,U01ds,Coughs, Group, Asthma, ronchitis, &c., it is alsoa good Soothing Syrup. J. SEGSWORTH, EALER IN FINE GOLD AND 811 Good Company and Digestion. PATENT M E DIG] N ES. I’IKOCI,.AMA’1‘I()N- Success and Failure. Sewage and Gas THE KING OF OILS A Goat Story. Proprietor, lngersull, tem “But 1 do not ask you to do it now. I only ask you to give me hope. Only say that in two or three years you will be my wife, and I shall be the happiest man in all Italy. Annunziata, if you will not promise me that, I believe ] shall go and drown myself I“ Aununzinta burst into tears. “I cannot promise itil cannot,” she sohbed. “ How can 1 tell whether I shall be free in two or three years to leave the stage? Very likely people will only then be beginning to listen to me. I don't\ rant. to marry anybody. Oh dear! oh dear! l wish there was no sueh thing as marrying in the world I” Luigi was very much moved and humili- ated at her distress. He dropped on his knees before her, clasping his hands. “ For- give me, my dear, forgive me 1” he said. “ I was rough and rude; but you do not know how I have suffered, You may sing at the Opera to the day of your death, if you will, if only you will give me the right to go where “ Ah ! now you want to quarrel with me ; but 1 will not quarrel. Listen, Luigi, and try not to be so hard and unjust. My life is no longer my own to dispose of. Signor Sassi has given me money, clothes, teachingâ€" everything ; and I must go on the stage, ifit were only to repay him. I do not say that I would give up my profession now if I could "â€"I would not. But you must see that I can- not, and that it is cruel and illJSlll'll to ask me to do such a thing.” “ That (Inigo possible,” remarked Luigi gloomily. “ Anmmziata," he resumed ab- ruptly, after a short pause, “ J hawe it on my mind to say something to you, and perhaps it had better he done at once 1” “ 011! 110, disagreeable my first. day disagreeable! Do not say it~wlo not spoil my first day at home 1” “ It is not disagreeable that I know 0127 only I suppose that it will be of no use. I want youto say you will marry me some day there 1" “Oh, but, Luigi, you know that cannot b0 “ Cannot be ‘1 I do not know that it can- not be. Why should it not he? Because I zun poor, too ignorant, too common for you 1" You did not always think so. But I sup- pose uothing less than a duke or a prince will suit you now-a-days." {nose Iorelgu counts and dukes Y" Annunziata burst into one of her old hearty laughs. “An enormous number 1" she said. “Luigi, you are a. true Italian ! It is lucky you were not with» me in Paris. If you get jealous when I mention that stran- gers have made pretty speeches to me, what would you have done if you had heard them made ‘3 I believe you would lmvehoeu capa- ble of thrusting your knife Into some of those poor young 1110114” Annunziata looked up, smiling through her tears. “As if] could let my husband oc- cupy such a position as that! Believe me, dear Luigi, it is impossible. It is not your fault, nor mine ; but our lives must he sepaâ€" rate. I cannot come back to the old life here, nor could you be happy among the peo- pie 1 hell have to associate with.” you go, and live whore you liwvw‘, l niaed very little to live upon, as you know. I shall al- ways be able to can] my own living, and no one need see me or hear of me but you. I could pass as your servant if you wished it. God knows you could not have a more devo- tod one E" “I know I zun not fit to mix with your friends; but I can learn. I will take les- sons in reading and writingâ€"I will educate myself. \Vhy should I not learn to he a gentleman, since you have become a lady ?” jfiinunziata laughed. “\Vhat a pretty compliment !” she said. “No one under- stands paying compliments as we Italians do. The French are $00 formal and forced - the V , Germans are too clumsy; and as for the English, they never pay compliments at all. But You are not to call me ‘Siwnorina’ if i O , you plenge. Have you forgotten my nu.an already .7 “ T will call you Annnnziatu, if I may; I (lid not know whether you would like it. They paid you many compliments, thenâ€" tlmse foreign counts and dukes ‘2” Annunziata saw a loophole of escape, and rushed at it. “ If you only mean that, Luigi,” she saidâ€"“ if you could do that~but it; will take a long time, you knowwstill, if you can “ There is but one belle Sorrentiliu," he said ; “ and as for news, I do not think there is any to tell. You will have heard that old Giuseppe is (lead of an apoplcxy, and thth Maren Naldi is betrothed to the daughter of 'Masucm, the blacksmith at Torre (lel Green. For myself, 1 have done pretty well in the way of business, thanks to the Saints 1 wind that I think is all ; except that the sun ceased to shine the day you left, Signorina, and that we have neither sunshine, 1101' flowers, nor Song of birds since then till now," Luigi was pleaSed, happymperliaps, too, a little overpowered. He had hardly expected to be greeted so warmly. Bub lie sat down, as he was bid, and presently began to talk in his deep, soft voice, answering the questions that had been put to him in order. "llAP'l‘ER ll.~â€"CUN'IL\‘I'H). “ You dear, good Luigi !” she exclaimed, “l knew you would come as soon as ‘ou heard I was here. And 110w are you? nd what have you been doing all these long, weary months ‘.’ Has the fishing been good“: Why have you put on your Sunday clothes, you foolish boy? I like you best in your everyday dress. Do you think I have he- come such a line lady that my own host friends must dress up when 1 come to see them ? l have not got the clothes I used to wear, or I would put them on while l am here. 1111 Zza has killed a fowl, and is gone out to cut salad for my supperhis it not silly of her? Now sit down there, and tell me all the news from the beginning to the end. “'here is your guitar ‘1 I thought you would bring it, and sing ‘ La Bella Sorrentina’ as you used to do. But perhaps you have found another bellzt Sorrentiua now 1’" LA BELLE SORRENTINA. TRAVELS BY THE FIRESIDE From them I learn whatev x‘ lies Beneath ouch changing 7,01“; And see, when looking with their (‘3 w: Better than with mine own I fear no more the (lust and hour, No more I fool fatigue, While journeying with anothor‘s foot O‘m‘ many a lcngthcnvd Magma Let others 11'chl‘l-‘C film and land, And toil through various clinics, I turn the world round with my hand Reading those poms‘ rhymvs. I journey on by park and spire, Beneath ccmonuinl trees, Through fields with poppies all on fire And gleums of distant seas. I saw ihe mnvcm‘s gleaming wall Rise from its rmves of pim‘. And mwm H of o d cathedrals ml], And r-uat‘us by 1110 Rhino. It drives me in upon myself And to the fireside gluums. To pleasant books that m‘owd my shelf" And still mun: pleasant dreams. In fancy I can hear again The Alpine torrent?» roar, ’l‘lm mule-hells on the hills of Spain The son at Elfiinore. 1 mad whatcVur bards havo sung of lands beyond the sun, And the bright days when I was ynnng (‘omv throngng buck m nun The 001180101“: min if falling fast And yondm‘ gilded vmm, Immovable for three days past, Points tn Ike mi ' main. something to you, and perhaps .n he done at once . dear L11ingnot1fit IS anytlnng LONHYLIALOW RICHMOND The last notes of the overture sounded, the curtain rose, and the opera begun. \Vith just a slight and not unpleasant tremor, Annun- ziutu felt that there was new no retreat pos- sible for her. She set her teeth, and her breath came quickly for a moment or two, but she was quite composed again before it became necessary for her to step out and face the audience. Many people may remember the thrill of surprise that ran through the whole house, when the Vannani for the first time appeared upon the boards where she has since become so well known. Her graceful carriage, her self-possession, and her marvellous beauty, set off by the diaphanous draperies that she were and the diamond stars that rested, like a eoronet, upon her masses of dark hair, till» ed every one there with amazement. In an unbroken silence she began to sing. Clear, round, and sweet each note rose, lilling the vast building without apparently any efl'ort to the stalls began to nod appi'ovingly. But Signora Sassi, who knew that this beginning was mere child's play, was scarlet in the face, and fanned away more violently than ever. Then eame ripplng runs and trills, and there was a murmur of applause, as will sometimes he the ease with English audienâ€" ees, even in the middle of a solo. The Van- nini went on singing like a nightingale ; and higher and higher rose her voice, till Signera Sassi dropped her fan and grasped her neigh- bar’s arm with a force that nearly made the poor man cry out. The critical moment had come; the note >~the great notefithe won- derful, terrible noteâ€"~was out, and out sue- eessfully. The Signora, feeling as though she had had an operation performed upon her, sank back with a huge sigh of relief, and al- most immediately the aria came to an end. Scignor Snssi, who was behind the scenes, was very pale, and his hand shook, though he endeavored to keep up a demeanor of jannty carelessness; the manager himself looked worried and anxious ; Signora Sassi was perspiring in the stalls, fanning herself vigorously with a huge fan, and keeping up her courage by sniffing at a bottle of strong, sweet scent, whereby lunch ill feeling was engendered among her immediate neighbors. The coolest of them all was the principal person concerned, who, oddly enough, was perfectly at her case, calm and self-confident. She was conscious of no other feeling than an intense desire to succeed, and a strong deâ€" termination and belief that she would suc- coed. New Signor Sassi, knowing that his pupil was capable of accomplishing this feat, and knowing also how great would be the fame that would attend her achievement of it, had not been able to resist the temptation of risk- ing much on the hazard of her triumph. She had sung and acted the part over and over again, not only to him but to several other competent judges, and he thought he was jus- tified in the venture, Nevertheless, consid- ering the youth and total inexperience of the performer, it was not surprising that many of Annunziata‘s friends were terribly nervous when the important evening arrived, and the Opera House began to fill. Then the applause begunia roll and a rat- tle that swelled and grew till the Vannini was frightened at the thunder she had evok- ed. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes spark- led ; applause was intoxicating to her thenii it does not occasion her much emotion 110w. She had to sing her song twice again, and poor Signor Sassi passed a. very agitated quarter of an hour ; butall went off well, and then the successful cautatrice was free to re- ceive the congratulations of her friends be- hind the scenes, and to repose herself till her The opera that had been chosen for her was Mozart's “ I’lauto Ma ice,” and her rOIe was that of the Queen (3% the Night, and part which perhaps was never before selected for a debutante. It will be remembered that the Queen of the Night, though she appears but three times in the course of the whole opera, and remains on the stage only a few minutes on each occasion, has, during these few minutes, a task to perform of which many of the most famous prime (lonne have been found incapable. The part can only be taken by a pure soprano of aImOst abnormal compass, and any lady who undertakes to fill it may feel assured that she will produce a sensationvi-either on account of complete failure or of equally complete success. She spent that winter at Milan, working harder than she had ever done yet, learning, practising, and rehearsing over and over again, with the indefatigable Sassi to encourâ€" age her, and a host of critics, professional and amateur, to praise her and prophesy for her a glorious career. The manager of the English Opera came, in the course of the winter to hear her, and expressed himself very strongly as to her improvement since she had left London. In the spring she was taken to England ; and then, at last, the m0- mentous day dawned on which, for the first time, she was to sing before it public audi- ence. The fatal (lay of departure came, and An- nunziata, as she leant hack in the carriage, covering her face with her hands and $01)- bing as only an Italian woman can, almost wished that she never had been tempted to leave her tranquil home at Sorrcnto at all. It was a natural feeling, and doubtless it was equally natural that she should overcome it as soon as she was in the train flying northâ€" ward toward Signor Sassi and wealth, and distinction, leaving Luigi, poverty and peace behind. l In spite of the restriction placed upon him, l Luigi enjoyed to the full every hour of those glorified, but alas I too swift-footed, seven days. Annnnziata was so gracious, so kind, so merry, so like her old self ; she seemed to take so much pleasure in going over all their Old haunts with him, and in sailing in his heat under the shadow of the cliffs that the orange trees and olives hand over, that the young fisherman felt himself in all earthly Paradise, and would gladly have consented to lead the same kind of life forever. Once, by dint of much pressing, he was induced to get his guitar out from its hiding plaee, and sing “La Bella Serrentina ;" but he would not do so a second time. “ You have learnt music now, and know that 1 have neither ear nor voice,” he said. And so the guitar was put away main. Luigi made no protest“ against the injus- tice of imposing conditions when no engage- ment had been entered into. llo sighed, and yielded ; and so well did he keep his word that no further expression of love escaped his lips during the week that Annunziata spent in her native village. Some eloquent looks he did indulge in; but of these she either was, or a‘lfected to he, unconscious. But she drew back. “ ’mmember, I have promised nothing,” she said. “And Luigi, 1 make one c011diti0n~~y0u must speak no more of this to me so long as I am here.”‘ But this encouragement, slight and vague as it was, sufficed to transform the despomL cnt Luigi into a, radiant and exu]tant con- queror. He started to his feet, and paced to and fro in the little. room, beaming with hapâ€" iness. “ Now I have something to live for I” he shouted. “ NOW I can face the whole world ? And I will learn quick enoughâ€"oh, I am not such a stupid fella ' as I look! Three years I What are three years '3 1 would wait three centuries. 0h, Annunxiatu, dear Annunziata, what a happy day this is I” And he stepped toward her, if he would have taken her in his arms. learn to talk and behava as gentlemen do, so that you can associate with them without being unhappyi-l might, in three years or soilint no I I will make no promises. Three years is such a. long time, and so many things may happen 4A 7" Hi LL , ONTARIO, CANADA, FRIDAY, MARCH 31, 1876 - U V ow to me, on the other hand, refinement and elegance are as :1. second nature; but then, to he sure, 1 am of noble descent. I could mention names among my relatives that would astonish you, were it not that boasting is a thing foreign to my tempera- ment. But,” continued Antonio, having an eye on his suppers, “it is early days to des- pair yet. Let us continue our course; per- haps in the end, I may make you present able.” Bottiglia did not quite approve of this sug~ gestion, which entailed a greater amount of exertion on his part than he had bargained for; but he gave in at length, in considera- tion of a somewhat increased allowance of wine, and theneeforth regularly produced, after supper, a greasy dog’s-cared volume which he had picked up for a few soldi, and read from it in a sing-song voice, till his auditor was first asleep~a consummation which it seldom took more than a quarter of an hour to effect. Sometimes it was Tasso, sometimes Ariosto, sometimes a novel, and sometimes a newspaper. It did not greatly signify ; the result was always the same, and was considered equally satisfactory by both parties concerned. “ Alas ! yes," sighed Antonio, “ You can- not turn a thistle into a. rose, or an ass (with- out being offensive to you) into an Arab steed. You are a common man, my poor Luigi-Nu very common man ; and 1 fear that, as you say, there is little use in trying torefinc you. n . .. ‘. _ _ . “ Nu, I\'u,”answcrcd Luigi ; “itisa vasto of tune and trouble. You shall read to me instead, and improve my mind.” Thus, in a slow, dogged fashion, Luigi set about the work of his education, having al- ways before him a dim expectation than An- nunziuta would one day come back to Sor- Upon this question there was rather a lengthy discussion, each man trying to get the better of the other, after the time-honored Italian fashion ; but finally it was amicably arranged that Luigi should provide his per- ceptor with supper three times a week, on which occasions the latter was to give the benefit of his experience in the matter of de- portment and polite conversation, while one evening in every week was to be devoted to the study of ealigraphy and literature, at an outlay of one hm per lessonWâ€"the mental strain demanded from the teacher on such occasions being, as Bottiglia pointed out, exâ€" ecsswe. The compact was rigorously olism'ved for a few times on both sides ; but it soon became evident that that part of it which related to the outward appearance and conduct of a. gentleman was hardly likely to prove a suc- cess. Luigi, after practising bowing, hand- ing a chair, leaving and entering a room, opening the door for a lady, and so forth, during three weeks, was fain to give it up as .1 bad job. He burst into a. roar of laughter one night, when old Antonio was hacking and posturing before him, and throwing himself into a chair, declared he would play the fool in this way no longer. “ It is no use, Bottiglia," he said. “ You will never make me into a noble Signor. I am as God creatcdme, and so I must rennin. Afte - all, what does it signify whether aman l)0\\'S in this way urin that, so that he does what is civil?” no V-V~. “ Nevci‘ mind that, Bottiglia. J rhow, what payment vlvi'll you ask 2'” r “Gently: gently, my dear young friend; (10 not let us lose our tempers this warm weather. “‘ell, 1 will do my best with you, and certainly you were right to come to me ; perhaps there is no other man within twenty miles who could have helped you as I can. But what in the world you should wish to be like a gentleman {mg-yon who are a simple fisherman, and never will be anything else.” .1 \rr - “ \Vhat has that to do with it ‘1 I tell you what I want, and I offer to pay for it. If you don’t like the job, or can’t do it, say‘so, and I will go somewhere else.” “ Bottlgli'a', ” said he, “HI want you to teach me to behave like a. gentleman. How long will it take you, angl \‘vha‘t will ypn charge ‘3" “A gentleman, indeed I" exélaimed Lhot- tiglia, looking up over his horn spectacles with infinite scorn. “Have you come into a fortune, then, Luigi .Ratta. ?” Now, Luigi, mindful of Amuiuziata’s pro- mise ~or half promise had resolved, imme- diately upon her departure, that he would heuceforvard set himself heart and soul to work at the task of learning to be a gentle- Reading, Writing, and a trifle of arithmetic he had already been taught, after a fashion ; but; something more than this would, he pre- sumed, be necessary before he could be con- sidered fit to associate with foreign dukes and princes. He therefore began by closely observing the manners and demeanor of the rich foresticn‘ who frequented Sorrcnto during the winter months, and who often hired his boat to sail over to Capri and the famous Blue Grotto; but after long and conscien- tious study, he found himself unable to ob- tain any hints from them. That there wasa difference between his ways and theirs he could easily see, but in what it consisted he ‘ could not, for the life of him, discover ; nor ‘ did he think that he should ever succeed in imitating those gentlemen with any appear- ance of ease. 111 this pcrplexity he decided on applying to Antonio Bassano, surnamed Bottiglia, who in those parts enjoyed a great reputation for sagacity and knowledge of the world, and who, according to his own account, was a man of much culture and refined education. He owed his nickname partly to an alleged penchant for drink and partly to the peculi- arity of his figure He was a wizened, wrinkled old man, who should by rights have been lean, but who, by a freak of nature, had become afflicted with a stomach of the bow- window order; so that, with his long neck and spherical body, he did bear some resem- blance to the bottles in which many of the ‘outh Italian wines are kept. He lodged in Sorrento, and lived principally at the ex- pense of his neighbors, contriving to accept favors in such a manner as to convey the im- pression that the donor was the obliging party. Q T6 this astute person Luigi presented him self abruptly, (me_ gyeuing: Such was the opening of the grzat Signo- riua Vannini’s career. The details of that career cannot here be dwelt uponâ€"space being insufficient; nor indeed (lid Annunzi- ata's life differ much thenceforward from that usually led by the distinguished mem- ; hers of her profession. In the course of the ‘ two following years she sang in all the great capitals of Europe, and was everywhere re- ceived with enthusiasm. There was much pleasure in herlife, plenty of work, some ex- citement, and also some anxiety. But she made a great deal of money ; and we may he sure that one of the first things she did van to place her Old aunt, Marta Vanuini, in a position of ease and comfort. If amid the din and turmoil of the world she became a little forgetful of some of her old friends at Sorrento, 1 do not think any one can Wonder or blame her much. But she blamed herself ‘ when, returning home one evening at Paris, after singing at the Italian Opera, a letter was put into herhaud, signed “ Luigi liatta.” Alas! had she not almost forgotten Luigi’s Very existence ‘3 second appearance in the third act. In this also she was triumphant. She left the thea- tre with the applause still ringing in her ears, followed by Sassi, whose arms were filled with bouquets ; norwas there probably a happier supper party in all London that evening than was formed by the good sing- ing master and his wife and their fortunate pupil. CHAPTER III LORI) CHIEF JUSTICE COUKBURN is to pre- side at the next annual festival of the News- paper Press Fund, London, which is to be held on the 2d of M ay. The island of Ceylon is very beautiful, the scenery lovely, and the soil productive in spices and many kinds of fruit ; indeed, it is said that it alone might produce sufficient coffee for the consumption of the entire world. The natives are, however, far from pleasing ; they are generally of short stature, yery ef- feminate looking, apathetic, and such liars that it is impossible to depend upon their word. If they may but repose for hour after hour under a tree, with a piece of bread fruit heside them, they seem to care for little else. The men wear their hair turned up behind with a comb, the height of the comb denoting the rank of the wearer. This and their small features gives them altogether such an efl‘eni- inate appearance that it is difficult for an European to distinguish them from the females. A visitor lately entered one of the schools, and seeing a row of boys sitting with their backs toward him, and each with a comb in his head, unconsciously asked if boys and girls were educated together. One of the natives of high rank was lately called on to give evidence at a trial, and swore such com- plete falsehoods that he was imprisoned for perjury. He applied to the English governor, and, with surprise, asked why he should be punished for what his people did. “My father,” he said, “ was a liar, and my grand- father was a liar, and my greatâ€"grandfather was a liar, and we are all liars. It is the custom of my country. Why should 1 he punished ?” Nobody who reads this, however, needs sufl'cr martyrdom in pursuit of fresh air. Cold rooms are dangerous, as well as close ones. Ventilation is only perfectly secured where there is at the same time a. sufficient amount of heat and a way of introducing pure air and allowing the escape of that which has become exhausted. Our stoves and furnaces are most of them so planned as to be hygienic successes, if we will only re- member to let our windows down a trifle, a. halfâ€"inch or so from the top. Churches, pul» lie halls, Sunday-school rooms, and audito- riums generally are better provided with the means of ventilation than formerly, but there is still great room for improvement in our homes, in hoardingâ€"school dormitories, and in some of our public schools. \Ve wish we could inspire every woman who reads this to the immediate making of an effort. Take Mrs. Chick’s role at once. Don’t be satisfied because your own room is all right, but to-morrow morning delay your appearance at breakfast, dear matron, for at least five minutes, and just go through the house. Look into the chamber the boys have left, and step into your daughter’s pretty room. If the one has a general, allâ€"pervading odor of boots and shaving-soap and the other, notwithstanding its scent of New-mown Hay, or \Vest End, has a. heavy, oppressive, stuffy atmosphere, you may be sure that all is not right. Open the windows and go to break- fast. Then issue a. general edict, that every member of your family shall invariably, no matter what the temperature, open the win- dows, top and bottom, before leaving .1 room after sleeping in it. And see that your order is obeyed. So much has been said and written about almost everything that is connected with health, that it would seem as though every man, woman, and child in the country must be well-informed on the subject. Fresh air, digestible food, warm clothing, temperance in living, and the importance in their turns both of exercise and of rest, have for years been discussed in the papers, talked about upon the platform, and taught in the schools, yet the people perish partly from lack of knowledge and partly from failure to use the knowledge they have. “ Very few people,” remarked the late Dr. Guthrie, “ die a natu- ral death, A few are murdered and a great many commit suicide.” \Ve are quite of his opinion, and have a word to say here coli- eerning only one branch of a large subject, fresh air. 'l‘o sleep habitually in the impure atmosphere of an ill-ventilated chamber, may not so soon conclude life as it would to i sleep upon occasion in a hermetically sealed apartment in company with a lighted char- coal brazier, but in the end the results are not very different. The slow systenietic poison of vitiated air does its work effectu- ally if it have but time. There is many a beautifully appointed bed-room, elaborate and tasteful in its furnishings and luxurious as regards curtains, and carpets, which holds all winter long the seeds of disease for its occupant because said occupant has a terror of outdoor air. There are weather-strips at the windows, there is list at the doors, and there is a furnace sending out volumes of heated air all the time till the wonder is, not that the family gather in the morning with palid checks and listless eyes, but ra- ther that they are able to care for breakfast at all. “But,” says somebody, “you for- get our grandmothers." We beg pardon. Our grandmothers are so constantly held up to us in the way of example that we are not very likely to forget them. “’0 know that they were dames of grace and presence, and that they did marvellous things in the housekeepingline, and never complained of headache; that their bedsteads were high- posters with thick curtains of damask or chintz, and that the beds themselves were smothering masses of feathers, yet they lived and flourished, and the ages On their tomb- stones surpass the three-seore and ten of the psalmist. They (lid not have the modern improvements, and they could not keep out their houses the blessed life-giving oxygen that made its way through loose sashes and cracks in the floor, and came gloriously down the chimneys, uncomfortable but beneficent, and so they were healthy in spite of them- selves. And then Luigi would walk sadly away, with his head bent down, and would not 1111- frequently quarrel with Bottiglia afterward. He had long since confided his hopes to that worthy, who had laughed them to scorn, till he found that by doing so he was in danger of losing his pupil, when he had, of course, adopted a different line of conduct. It was he who suggested that Luigi should write a letter to the ahscnt fair one, and who under- took to compose for him such a one as should at once touch the heart of the recipient, and nhow her that the writer was a man of edu- cation and acquainted with the best literary style. “ She (1033 not mention your name,” Marta would say impatiently, in answer to his re- peated inquiries. “ \Vhat wmildvyml have She has other things and other people to think of new.” From 01d Mairta, who us now in easy cir- cumstances, thanks to the money sent her by her niece, he got occasional news of the triumphs of his beloved. Messages, too, were frequently transmitted to him from her at first ; but as the time went on these mes- sages became rarer and rarer, and at last ceased altogether. ' rento, be satisfied with the progress he had made, and consent to their speedy nuptials. That it might be well for him to Seek her out was an idea that had not as yet suggested itself to him. He certainly was a young man Hf remarkable patience. pan/z /WA~, A Nation of Liars. [TU 111‘) LTUIVI'JNUEI). <«~â€"<-»4>»â€" 0n Ventilation >~o~< AFTER the present year British mails for America. will be despatched by vessels whose efficiency is proved, the compensation to be determined by the weight of matter carried. N0 contract with any particular line will be made. “ 'l‘tht’s going too far,” as the Boston man sand, when his wife ran away to San Francis- co with another man. THERE will be 350 exhibitors at the Con- tennial Exhibition at Philadelphia. from the Province of Quebec. Their goods were shipped this week. On Saturday :11 Mormon by the name of Fuhnmg says the Salt Lake Tribune, who had been chosen among the faithful to go on a mission to Arizona, called upon Brigham Young. “ Married ‘2" queried the Prophet. “Not any,” said Fulmer, o’er whose brow forty odd years had left their imprint. “\L,,i n .‘ v. . “ Must marry, Brother Fulmei, before you go to Arizona to build up the Kingdom.” ’ “Don’t know anybody who will have me,” was the reply. “I‘ll find some one. Do you know Brother Brown in the Seventeenth \Vanl‘.‘ VVeIl, he has several daughters ; you go to Brother Brown’s and tell him I want you to marry one of his daughters.” Fulxner left and obeyed counsel to the lat- ter. K mocking at the door, he was admitted by Brother Brown, who, upon learning what was wanted, called in his several daughters to be selected from. Fillmer taking his choice, Brown told the girl to get ready in fifteen minutes. “I’ll do as you say,” was her meek reply, as she walked out. “ That’s the way I raise my daughters ; if they disobey, there’s war in camp.” 'l‘he wedding festivities take place to-night. Wearing thin slices and stockings and in-_ sufficient clothing in cold and rainy weather ; loading a lazy, excited, theater-going, dam» ing life; sleeping on feathers in a 7 by 9 room ; eating hot, stimulating food, too fast and a great deal too much of it and at im- proper times ; beginning with tea and coffee in childhood, and adding tobacco and spirits in due time ; marrying in haste and living in continual ferment, thereafter; following un-y healthy occupations to make money; taking hitters and confections and gormandizing be- tween meals ; giving way to fits of passion, or keeping in perpetual worry ; going to bed at midnight and getting up at noon, and eat- ing when you catch it. To which may be added a recipe for killing children : paregor-‘ ic, col‘dials, candy and rich cake ; and when they are made sick thereby, mercur 7, tart-M'- emetie, custormil, and sulphur. IT is estimated that fully twenty barges laden with coal foundered in the Thames during the gale of Tuesday. It has been the custom since time imme- morial for gentlemen who are engaged to be married, to offer their intended brides a. ring, this ring is worn until the wedding ring replaces it. There is a fashion for this as for everything else. The ring varies in value according to the position of the giver. There are certain stones more suitable than others for this purpose. Diamonds are not considered in good taste for a young girl, neither are pearls. The latter because they are perishable, and because it is said, too, that pearls are unlucky stones ; in evidence of this, it is stated that pearls composed the favorite parures of Marie Stuart, Anna Boleyn, Marie Antoinette, and the unfortu= nate Duchess de l’raslin, who all met with such terrible deaths. Consequently the stones most generally favored are emeralds and sapphires, the first being the emblem of hope,‘ the second that of endless love, ac- cording to the Oriental belief. The emerald was for a. long timethe favorite stone, 'of the Roman ladies. ' \Vhen emeralds are deep in color they are mounted in open work. \Vhen they are pale they are mounted on foil. Ull- fortunately one thing is against this stone~r the facility with which it is imitated in glass colored by oxide of chrome. Old maids, upon the whole, are a blessing to the world, They take care of sick sisters and brothers, they make the clothes for lit- tle nieces and nephews, they cause Sabbath schools to flourish, they hind churches to- gether, they beg for the minister, they are on the side of good morals everywhere, and society would find it a difficult thing to get along properly without them. ’ Long may they flourish ! Or, she may never have met one who has called forth the strongest and deepest feel- ings of her nature, and she may be wise enough to know that marriage is never what God designed it should be unless it be enter- ed into by Again, death may have taken from her the chosen of 1101‘ heart, and 1101' nature may be too loyal and true to admit of her enshrining another in the plsz of her first love. Frequently circumstances, from which there is no esuupe prevent} girls from marry- ing. Aged relatives, whose waning and bro- ken lives need the fostering and gentle care of a daughter, may stand between her and happiness ; and, with a self-sacrifice that costs her only 11 uLven knows how much, she may yield up the love fur which her heart cries (lunihly, on the altar of filial duty, and stamps herself with the dreaded stigma of old maid. ‘ And though we believe that nlarriauc is a divine institution, ordained of God am? bless< ed by him, and though we believe it is far hotter to marry than to be single, yet 2:. wov man had hotte‘ a thousand times he an old maid than to marry it, man whom she cannot love, and for whom .shc feels no sentiment of rcspcct. The majority of old maids are not unmar- ried because nobody has “ asked them,” for we do not believe that there is a woman liv- ‘ ing who has reached the age of thirty With- out having had an offer. ' ()ld maids are, generally speaking, girls who in their youth were belles and beauties, and who set a high value on themselves;t00 high to accept the proposals of common men, and so they have, to use an old expression. “gone through the woods without picking up a stick," for the sole reason that they were afraid of picking up a crooked one. A girl who holds herself too high to stoop to wed where she can neither love or respect, is very likely to be an old maid. Age does not make her any the less particular, and as she goes along her life journey she sees, per- haps, those who were girls with her unhap- pin wedded to husbands who are unkind, or dissipated, or careless, or unfaithful, and she is strengthened by the right to go on her way alone. Now, we know lots of old maids, and nearly every one of them is plump instead of lean, and not one of them wears corkscrew curls. Some of them are, Without exception, the best women We ever knew. Stm'y writers always describe their old maids as tall, £11111, and angular, with Sharp noses, corkscrew curls, and the neuralgia. v , . . . n . . .â€" Terms: “One Dollm per Amman in Adm“: THE YORK HERALD Ten Ways to Commit Suicide. ‘UBLISHED AT THE OFFICE Issued “'eekly on Friday Morning Two souls with but a single thought-â€" Two hearts that beat as one." The Engagement Ring. ‘ONGE Sr, RXCBMOND HXLL Mormon Courtship. ALEX. SCOTT, 1’30?le 01d Maids. WHOLE IO ’23.