vol-6^'Hi; NEW SERIES, THE BEDFORD GAZETTE IS PUBLISHED EVERY" FRIDAY MORNING 15 Y MEYERS & BEN FORD, At the following terms, to wit: Si.so per annum, CASH, in advance. S-.00 " " if paid within the ypar. $2.50 it not pai<! within the year. fe?'Xo subscription taken for less than six months. TO"No paper discontinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the publishers. It has tieen decided by the United States Courts, that the stoppage of n newspaper without the payment of ar rearages, ,s prima facie evidence ol fraud and is a criminal offence. GO I'hc courts have decided that persons are ac countable for "he subscription prire of newspapers, il thoy take them from the post office, whether they subscribe lot them, or not. POF.TRV. THE HARVEST HYMN. We copy the following beautiful hymn from the Eondon Farmer's Magazine : Gori of the rolling year ! to Thee Our song shall rise, whose bounty pours. In many a goodly gift, with free And liberal hand, our autumn stores : No firstlings of our iiock we slay, No soaring clouds of incense vise, Rut on thy hallowed shrine we lay, Our grateful hearts in sacrifice. Rome on thy hrealh, the lap of spring Was heaped with many a blooming flower; j And smiling summer joyed to bring The sunshine and the gentle shower; And autumn's rich luxuriance now, The ripening seed, the bursting shell, The golden sheaf and laden bough, The fullness of thy bounty tell. * No menial throng, in princely dome, Here wait a titled lord's behest, Rut many a fair and peaceful home Hath won thy peaceful dove a guest; No groves of palm our fields adorn, " No myrtle shades or orange bowers, Hut rustling meads of golden corn, And fields of waving grain, are ours. Safe in thy care, the landscape o'er, Our flocks and herds securely stray. No tyrant master claims our store, No ruthless robber rends away; No fierce volcano's withering shower, No fell simoom, with poisonous breath, No burning sun, with baleful power, Awake the tiery plagues of death. And here shall rise our song to Thee, Where lengthened vales and pastures lie, And streams go singing wild and free, lleneath a blue and smiling sky : Where ne'er was reared a mortal throne. Where crowned oppressors never trod, Here at the throne of Heaven alone, Shall man in reverence bow to God. HISTORIC A I SKETCH. ATTI I A , THE scocr.Gr: or con. In the early part of the fifth century, when the northern or Co'hic nations were hotly con- j tending with the tottering empire of Rome fur ; the dominion of Europe uh* n new commnni ties were settling in Spain and Cermany, and ■ the Franks were beginning in Caul to assert, t first their own freedom, and then their sway! over their weak neighbors when Christianity was beginning to assert its influence over lne| wild barbarians in the Helvetian morasses and' in the Herman woods, and the dawn of a better j day seemed to glimmer over the world through j the datk shades offcaibarism, superstition, and j cruel! v, there crept a storm over Europe, that had well nigh crushed and blighted in its fury tlie tender blossoms of new civilization. From the st< ppes of central Asia, the desolate le gion lying between the frozen tracts of Siberia and the loftv Himalaya range, there arose a race of men, who, pouring over Europe, like a swa; in . of locusts, devoured every green thing, ami h It ] ehind them ruin, mi; *ry, and desolation. In-j numerable as the sands on the sea shore, pitiless j as the blast that swept their native plains, they | were in themselves sufficiently calculated lo in spire fear in the minds of the half-civilized | tribes against whom they turned their arms: but the terror caused hv their first arrival reached its culniinaling point, when they were marshalled j at last, not "by a rude, unthinking savage, but by a leader who united to consummate cunning and dauntless valor, the most unbounded and unpit ying ferocity; a king, who, by vast success in the field, and the pitiless rancor with which he hunted down his foes, acquired a name pro nounced by his enemirs w itii fear and trembling, j and came to be know n throughout the length ; and breadth ol Eutope as the "Scourge of Cod," 'lie rod with which an outraged Providence w as apposed to smite the nations of the earth. The ITuns, for so these formidable strangers uere called, were wandering tribes of the Tar- ; tar plains. Possessing no fixed abode, they ; wandered irom place lo place, as dwellers in j '* nts and keepers of cattle. Their aspect was! hidious to bt hold. They had Hat noses, huge ! •n ails, broad shoulders, and huge muscular arms. , They weie short of stature, and their thin legs, ' weak and crooked, seemed unable to support : 'he huge square bodies and enormous heads which appeared rather to belong to evil demons 'hats mortal men, Thus they seldom appeared on loot, ail their warlike evolutions, ail their maneuvers of advance and retreat, of attack ami defence, being executed on horseback. When once mounted, horse and man seemed to iortn but one creature, and almost to realise the an cient superstition concerning the centaurs.— I heir skill in archery struck a cfiiil to the hearts even of the brave Goths; and with -their tough lances thrusting sure,' and their harsh voices yelling like the howls of savage beasts above the din of baltle, they swarmed like wolves through the affrighted fields of southern and ct ntral Europe. One horrible enstom they had. that contemplated the disgust and abhor rence with which these ferocious strangers were regarded—they ate their meat raw. Each warrior placed upon his horse's back, be neath the saddle, a great piece of beef or horse flesh; and when the action of riding had render ed the fragment somewhat tender, the savage would devour it with the voracity of a famished tiger, washing down his savage rrpast wit fi huge draughts of sour milk. Such were the Huns. Ferocious beyond the imaginings of the dark times in which they lived, barbarous "beyond the conception of the inhabitants of benighted | Europe, they proved fit agents to execute the i decrees of the wild, cruel despot, who deluged the West with blood, while he called himself an instiumetU—a scourge in the hand of the Almighty. Attiia was one of those mighty spirits which arise from time to time, endowed to all appear ances with tlie power ami will to crush a world. He was worshipped as a god by It is followers ' whom he led from victory to victory, while he ruled them witli a rod of iron. "Where His horses hoofs had trod," said superstition, "the grass could grow no more." Smiling fields and populous cities stood before him; but a bowling wilderness marked the track His sav age hordes had taken. From lite borders of the Black Sea to the banks ol the Rhine he led the Huns, laying waste the country as fie went.— 1 he affrighted populace fled everywhere before j him: and there were not a few who asserted.' in the extremity of their fear, that the end of the world iiad come, and that the final judg-| rnents foretold in the Scriptures were about to j fa!! on the earth, by the hand of 'he "Scourge; of God." The Eastern Empire was the first to suffer from the invader's fury. (>reece was laid waste from end to end, and Constantinople only esca ped destruction by the payment of a tremen dous ransom. Onward through central Europe lov\ arils Caul, swept (lie mighty torrent : and among the country people there still survive tales of the horrors that accompanied the march of these ruthless men ; still art* to be found in various parts of Cermany great mounds and fortification? of earth, erected in the vain hoj e of checking the foe in his onward course, and distinguished by the names of Hun's Mountains and linn's Ditches. Isolated attempts were, however, far too feehle against such an invasion, and right onward, past the Rhine, came the hordes of Attila. .Nothing stopped their pro gress, ar.<! the fate of Europe in the balance. Then, at last, there seems to have flashed upon the minds of the scathed nations of the West tin* great idea that in union alone could a sure defence be found. Franks and Visigoths, Cauls and Romans, forgot for a moment their mutual animosities, and resolved to sta mi side by side to repel the common enemy. Near Chalions,on the broad plains of the river Maine, the nations of the West stood arrayed to make one desperate stand against their terrible antago nist. There stood Thcodoric, the brave mon arch of the Visigoths, with Merovig, tin* great warrior, the founder of the first race of Prank ish kings, and the Romish race of Cauls, under their last brave proconsul, CEiius. On the other side came AfliMa, with l is innumerable legions of horsemen, and a Ciowd of barbarians whom he had pressed into his service as auxilia ries. The monarch of the Huns fully under stood the importance of the crisis : and in his harangue to his troops befoie the battle, promised great rewards to the brave who should insure him victory, and menaced with death the coward who should flee. The battle was obstinafe and bloody. So long as the arrow and the javelin were the wea pons of attack the Huns had the advantage ; but when darts and spears had been hurled, and the combatants came to closer quarters, Roman disci pline and stubborn Cothic valor began to tell. Foaming with rage, Attila saw his promised victory escaping from him : and when evening came, and two hundred thousand of his follow ers lay dead upon the field, lie sullenly gave the signal for retreat ; and the deept ning night put an end to the carnage. Then followed a night of suspense, in which ! neither side knew what the enemy were doing. When morning dawned, it shone upon a sc< tie 1 calculated, in those rude times, to excite the , admiration even of an exasperated fo°. During the hours ol darkness, the Iluns had formed a complete fortification, after their fashion with | the wagons which always followed their train. A ithin tlie inclosure formed by these carriages stood the warriors in a deep circle, rank upon rank, many ot them holding torches in their hands. 111 the centre they had raised an im mense pile, formed ol the wooden saddle of iheir horses, the yokes oi their oxen, and all timber they could collect ; and on the summit of the giant .mound towered, torch in hand, the form of Attiia. Driven to desperation by the unlooked-for reverses of the previous day, the savage king lia<l determined to fire the pile an i perish in the flames, rather than fall a captive info the hands of his foes. Courage even il it were the courage of des pair, was the quality most respected in those days of warfare. (Otitis and Merovig declined attacking an enemy so humbled, yet so proud in his abasement. They remainnd at some dis tance ; and slowly and silently Attiia drew off '.he remains of his army, and retired beyond the Rhine. The "Scourge of God" was broken, j and Europe breathed more freely. Yet another year, and the savage king suc cumbed to a monarchy more powerful and pittiless than himself—even to the grim King of Terrois. He had menaced Rorr.e with the remains of his army—a horde still formida ble, even after the loss they had sustained by their numbers and ferocity. But a dark pre sentiment seemed suddenly to fall upon him; he drew off his men. and retired to Upper Italy) where he died. His- followers mourned deeply for their great chief, They interred him in a golden coffin, I inclosed in an outer shell of silver : ami the j slaves who had dug his grave were all slain? i that none might be tempted by the wealth tie- ! posited there, to disturb the monarch's resting I place. I hen with mourning and lamentation,; the Huns fled back toward the East : and to 1 this day 110 man knows wheie the "!-.cour</e of ; God" lies buried. THE DIKHHSKD LOVER. nv KENT. My friend Tom has a natural affection for dirt, or rather dirt has a natural afiection for ; f orn. It is fr> him what gold \\ as to Mideas. ! whatever lie touches turn.. to diit. No matte! how while the cravat —no matter how immac ulate the vest, the moment it comes within the sphere of Tom's influence, its whiteness is gone: it is immaculate no more. Dogs, sweeps, and j lamplighters never pass him, without leaving i upon his dress unequivocal marks of their pros- i ence. Once, and only once, I saw him cross j the street without encountering the wheels of a ' carriage. loj >. ued my mouth to congratulate, ; and before f could utter one word, it was filled with mud. The careless 1 dock head lay at my feet, full length a the gutter. At mv earnest solicitation, he once purchased a suit precisely mud color. It was a capital idea. He crossi d the street three times, he walked half a mile, and returned, in appearrnc.e, at least, unscathed, i The thing was unprecedented. True, he was ; welcomed by the affectionate caress.of a <iog I that had been enjoying the coolness of a neigh- ! he ring norsepond: true, he received a shower ! bath from the wheels of an omnibus. Hut to j plaster mud on Tom's new coat vas 'to gild! refined gold —to paint the lily.' "Tmn will be a neat man vet,"' I said as I witnessed the success of my plan. In about half an hour it was mv fate to meet a gentleman with seven stripes of green paint on his back —it was my friend Torn, who Lad been leaning against some newiv painted win dow blinds. if is man Car-ar declares that he 'can't see fle use on brak a boot when he nebersfay bracked;' and his washei woman, with a verv proper re-"*, gard for her own reputation, lias been compel- j lt d to discard him, not from any ill-will, but as ; ; she declared, with up-iifted hands, "'if any one •, should ask me it I washed Mr. Smith's clothes, j, what could I tell them ?" Cut tliere were very I ! few tilings in this world with which Tom could ! have more easily dispensed than trie services of j j his washerwoman. Having no other amusement, one morning, I strolled over to Tom's room. I ascended the staus, and heard Ins voice in a very decided tone. "Cut it must be done, and so there is an end to it." "Really, was the reply, "anything within the limits of possibility; but to make a coat in ten hours—l will promise anything in the world, but 1 really fear I shall be unable to perform." "If double your price would be any ob ject " "Certainly, sir, if you insist upon it—cer tainly. I will put every man in my shop up on it —it shall be done in time. Good morning, si r ." Ihe door opened, ami a fellow with shears and measures passed out. What could Tom be doing with a tailor ? "Just the man I wanted lo see," exclaimed Tom. "1 require your advice upon a very iic- Freedom of Thought and Opinion. BEDFORD, lift FRIDAY MORNING, JULY 30, 1858. ■ r- \'lntit affair—which of thcs? cravats do you ' think (he most becoming V And he spread before me some half dozen, of every hue and fashion. • "Now, what in (he name of all that is vvon der 'id does (his mean, Tom ? A fancy ball, is ;it ' Aon have chosen an excellent disguise: n ■ J yon..- nearest friends would never know you.— \ But you cann ;t support the character: ifyou had : ; that of a chimney sweep, now—but that wocnl have been too natural. Tell me, Tom, "sTv-l dues all this mean V' rs.. ! '\V!jy the fact is, Frank,'* passing a hand through his hair, redolent with macassar, "f have concluded—l think T shall be a little more ne-at in future. You doutless remember the good advice yotjgave me some time since: it has had an excelWt effect, I assure you." Aow it so happened that of all the good ad . vice 1 had given Tom, this was the very first I instance in which he had seen fit to follow it. ! So I could not attribute the metamorphosis of my friend to my eloquence. Who but a wo man ever changed a sioven to a fop? "Pray, where are you going this evening," I continued, ''that you must have a new coat so suddenly V' "Going ? Nowhere in particular. 1 had, indeed, some idea of calling on my old friend, Mr. Murray. No harm in that I hope." Conviction began to flash upon me. •'Your old friend Mr. Murray. And hi-s voting niece, Miss Julia, has no share in the visit, I suppose? 1 heard (hat she arrived in town last nigh!."' "Now, upon my word, Frank, you mistake me entirety. I did not know that she was in town last night—when I—that is, when I—l did nt know anything about it." "And so you were there last night, loo) Really, this is getting along bravely," ''Why, the fact is, Frank, you must know everything. I called last evening to sc-e Murray on ? 'm" business about the real estate, you kndw. ] had no more iha of meeting a wo man than a boa constrictor. My beard was three days oid, collar ditto,and therest of my dress in excellent keeping. 1 became engaged in conversation, and somehow or other I forgot all*.' bout the real estate." • Ami so von are going again to-night- and rr r? o O that i- Urn secret of the new coat ?" "By no means, I wanted a new coat, and tailors are so long you know. Do you think blue will become me 1 Blue is her favorite— that is—l mean blue—" "Oh. go on—don't stammer—blue is her favorite i>'nt it ?" '•The fret is, Frank—take another glass of; this wine—the fact is—good wine is'nt it ? j Been two voyages to the Indies—the fact is, I J suppose—l rather fancy—l am a little in love, i i'rv a little of that sherry. What are the; symptoms, Frank, a queer feeling about the \ 'wait, a something which drives the blood j through one like lightning 1" "Exactly ! I believe I have seen Julia ; short and chubby, isn't she—with red hair, and a little squint eyed ?" Frank, I never did knock you down, though I have been tempted to do so a good many tines: but il you do not stop that nonsense, I will." "Quite valiant in defense of your lady love. Well, Tom, I conlt.s she is a lovely girl, and to-morrow —so, good morning." "Well, Tom, what success ?" Would you believe it She did not recog nize me." "Not recognize you ?" No. You know wliot a quiz that Murray is. As soon as he saw me enter, dressed in such style, he came up, shook hands with me, and without giving me a chance to say one word, introduced me to Julia a* Mr. Frederic somebo dy. Arid would you believe it, (lie little witch did not know me. i think I shall not forget her so easily. Nor was that all. Murray said something about the fellow who called there the previous evening—a country cousin, he said, clean enough, but an incorrigible sloven And Julia said he dressed like a barbarian. She shall pnv for that yet. Such eyes and she steps like a queen. Well, Frank, a clean collar does make a vast difference in a man's appearance- Lovely as Hebe herself. Terrible difference clean linen makes." The last time I saw 3'om he was scolding his eldest boy for coming into the drawing room with muddy boots. A JEWEL OF A GIRL.—One of our exchan ges speaks of a beautiful girl who would prove a capital speculation for a fortune hunter of the right sort. Her voice is of silver, her hair of gold, her teeth of pearl, her cheeks of rubies, and her eyes of diamonds. say, friend, your horse is a little con trary, is he not ?" "No sir-ee 1" "What makes him stop, then ? ' "Oh, he's afraid somebody'll say 'whoa,' and lie shan't hear it." MAMTACTI KING WINE I A Yankee pedlar, 011 his way to the west with a two horse load of notions, put up, many years ago, at the bouse of an honest Pennsylva nia Dutchman, and, as it happened, was detain ed at Ins stopping place for three or tour days, by a heavy rain, wich made the road and streams impassible. At last the sky brightened up and he hitched to, out when the reckoning came to be paid, which was trn dollars, Jonathan re quested the host to score it until he returned trom his expedition, promising veryHionestly to discharge it then. This did not suit the Dutch man, however, who insisted 011 the cash, which was at last reluctantly paid him. ♦ It was then the enstom to treat a traveler on payment of his bill, to a glass, and the tavern-keeper was never backward in following the custom. But 011 handing out a mug of clear cider, Jonathan remarked shrewdly, that it would make fine wine, and said he had a secret by which, through a very short process, he could convert it into the best of wine. This put Mynheer on the nettles. Possess the secret lie must, so lie finally took the Y'ankee up at his offer of putting ttie cider into the process of wine making, for It n dollars down, and fifty dollars more when he returned, if it succeeded to the landlord's mind. Jonathan was accordingly conducted into the cellar, and having procured a half inch auger, bored a hole in one end of a hogshead of cider, and directed Mynheer to apply his thumb to it, while be bored a like hole in the other end, and then ordered him to stretch his other arm so as to cover that also. Having thus got the unsuspecting Dutchman into business, he directed him to remain so until he prepared two spiggots for the holes, then walking to his wa gon, he jumped in and was off, leaving His credulous friend to make wine of his cider the b> st way he could, and get the ten dollars back again when he caught Him. ASHAMED OF iJIS MOTHER. A few years since a young clerk was pointed out to the writer, in the city of Boston as an ob ject of special curiosity, for the following rea son : He was handsome, but poor and proud. The clothes on his back and in Ids trunk were ail that he was worth and perhaps more. His mother was a pious widow in very humble cir cumstances, and was much neglected by her unfaithful son. He was suddenly taken sick and a dangerous fever followed. He was soon glad to send for his neglected parent to admin ister to his wants. She carne with a mother's love and watched by his bedside by night and bt' day with a mother's tenderness. Providence interposed and the young man recovered. One day a shop mate cat led to see him when he in troduced his own mother as his nurse! He was ashamed ot her lowly appearance because it di-closed his humble origin, and he took this citie!, heathenish way to mislead his associate. Place such an example of downright barbarity in contrast with the fiiiai devotion of a Law rence and it seems like the deed of some untu tored hindoo or South Sea Islander. Ashamed to confess !us humble origin ! The curse of God will follow him to his grave unless ins life is marked by a change. Every honorable senti ment of humanity condemns such want of affec tion, while it proves the opposite in the faith ful Lawrence. Men despise the one and admire the other. ASK FOR. WHAT YOU WANT. —Several gentle men of the Massachusetts Legislature, dining at a Boston hotel, one of them Mr. M., a gentleman who sat opposite : 'Can you reach the pertators, sir?' Mr. M. extended his arm toward the dish and sa!i>!ied himself that he could reach tiie "per tators,'' and answered : 'Yes, sir.' The legislator was taken aback by his unex- ! pected rebuff from the wag, but presently recov- ' ering himself", he asked : 'Will you sticlc my fork intoone of them ?' | Mr. M. took the fork and very coolly plunged j it into a finely cooked potato, and left it there. I The company roared as they took the joke, and the victim looked more foolish than before. | But suddenly an air of confidence struck him:! rising to his feet he exclaimed with an air of: conscious triumph : 'Now, Mr. M., I will trouble you for the J fork.' Mr. M. rose to his feet, with the most imper- j turabie gravity, pulled the fork out ofthp potato, f and returned it, midst an uncontrollable thunder \ storm of laughter* to the utter discomfiture of; the centleman B . A BACHELOR'S A RGCMENT AGAINST MAR RIAGE. —No single man can be fairly called poor. What double man can with certainty be called rich ? A single man can lodge in a gar ret, and dine on herring; nobody knows, no body cares. Let hirri marry, and he invites the world to witness where he lodges, and how he dines. The first necessary a wife demands is the most ruinous, the most indefinite super fluity it is gentility according to what her neigh bors call genteel. Gentility commences with the honeymoon; it is its shadow, and lengthens as the moon declines. When the money is all Tone, your bride says, "We can have our tea without sugar when quite alone, love; hut in case Gentility drops in, here's a bill for silver sugar tongs." That's why I'm single.—Blitck xvooiL 1 low TO PUNCH A MAN.—"Judge, you say if T punch a man in fun, he can take me up for assault and battery 1" "Yes, sir, I said lhat, and what I say I re prat. Ifyou punch a man, you are guilty of a breach of the peace and can be arrested for it." "Ain't there no exceptions whatever." "Now, Judge, I guess you are mistaken— suppose, for instance, I should brandy punch him, what then 1" "No levity in court, sir. Sheriff expose this man to the atmosphere. Call the next case- 1 WHOLE is7. f Tin: Vcp.y LATEST VET.— During the summer oI 19. says the Knickerbocker, corn being verv scarce in tbe upper country and one of the citi zens neing hard pressed for brpad, having worn threadbare the hospitality of his neighbors bv his extreme laziness, they thought it an act of justice to bury him. Accordingly, he was carri ed to the J place of interment, and being mot bv one of the citizens, the following conversation took place: "Hollo, what have you rot there ?*' W'oor old Mr. S." "What are you going to do with him "Bury him." "W hat! is he dead? I had not hoard ol it." "No, he is not dead, but he might as well be, for he has no cor n and is too lazy to \v irk for any." "That is too cruel fur civilized people. I'll give two bushels of corn myself rather than see him buried alive." Old S. raised the cover and asked in a drag ging tone, Is it shelled !" "\o, but you can shell it." "Drive on l-ovs." THE RODIN'S Love FOR MANKIND. —It is a curious tact that the love ofour race is so innate in the robin as to render him unhappy in an v other society—excepting only in the breeding season, when all the birds are naturally shy and suspicious for the welfare of their offspring.— Do into any wood, walk down any shady lane, enter a cemetery, seat yourself in any country church-vard, or perch yourself on any rural stile —within a few moments you will assuredly have a robin beside you, and he will assuredly introduce himself with a song. It is in vain to say to him, "Nay." He fairl}' fascinates you; he wos your heart and wins it. How many of my successes are attributable to the hints afforded by this open-hearted, all conquering bird.— Kidd on the Robin. THE END TO COME AGAIN. —If "figures don't lie,"' we beg pardon beforehand of those of our readers whom the following frightens to death: The Millerites are again predicting the speedy end of all things lerreslial. The present ve;r, too, is to be the last, and they arrive at'this re sult by a mathematical process, thus: The square root of the cost of Ezekiel's chariot was 8563. From this subtract "prophetic value" of"scarlet lady of Babylon," 1282 and we have 7281. Take from this the cube of the ram mentioned by the prophet as pushing west ward," 4-757, and we have for remainder 252 F. Deduct from this "the remainder of beasts" mentioned in the Apocalypse, G66, and we get the result, 185S—the year in which the end of the world is to take place. WHEN Daniel Webster was delivering his memorable speech at the dedication of Bunker Hill monument, the crowd pressed forward to such an extent that some were fainting and some being crushed. Officers strove in vain to make the crowd stand back : they said it could not be done. Someone asked Mr. Webster to make an appeal to them. The great orator came for ward, stretched forth his hand, and said in his deep stentorian tones, "Gentlemen, stand back!" "It cannot be done," they shouted. "Gentle men, stand back," he said, without a change of voice. "It is impossible, Mr. Webster, impos sible." "Impossible ?" repeated Mr Webster: "impossible ? Noi/iing is impossible on Bun ker Hill" and the vast crowd swayed, and rolled back like a mighty wave of the ocean. SKIRTS AND SCARE CROWS.—A gentleman who recently traveled through the Mohawk Valley states that the farmers of that region, instead of the old fashioned figure of a ragged man with a wooden gun, for a scare crow, now hang up hooped skirts in their corn fields; and the carrion birds are effectually alarmed by this modern fashionable contrivance. 'Slocum, how is it, to-day—can you lake that note up V 'l'm sorry to c ay that I can't—never was so cramped in ali my life.' 'By the way, you are always cramped, are you not ?' •I'm sorry to say that I am ; and yet there is a natural cause fur it,' •And what is that ?' •Why, I was weaned on green apples and water-melons.' 'Jenny,' said a landlady to her help, the other morning, 'Jennj', was there any fire in the kitchen last night, while you were sitting up ?" 'Yes marm,'said Jenny ; 'there was a spark there when I went down, and I soon fanned it into a flame.' 'The landlady looked suspiciously at Jenny, but the innocent girl went on scrubbing and humming, 'Katy Darling.' (Er"Two young misses, discussing the quali ties of a young gent, were heard at it thus : "I like Charley; but he is rather girlish. He hasn't the least bit of beard." "1 say lie has a beard, but he shaves it off." "No, he hasn't neither, any more than I have." '•I say he has, too, and I know it, for it scratched mv cheek the other day." No gainsaying that. Jealousy regularly c stabiished forthwith. ICr'A Quaker having sold a fine looking but blind horse, asked the purchaser, in bis dry way : "Well, my friend, dost thou see any fault in him?" "No," was the answer. "Neither will he see any in thee," said old Broadbrim. 05^A little child in church observing the minister to be very vehement in his words and gestures, cried out, "Mother, why don't they let the man out of the box skirts and red shoes are the latest female agonv. ✓ ... -.-I VOL. 1, NO. :>2
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