. : J3LLAR PER *N NUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOWANDA : TDnrsday Morning, January 2,1862. Sdectfb THE SEA FIGHT. rhe fiin hath ridden into the sky, And the night gone to her lair ; Yet all is asleep. On the mighty deep, And all in the calm , gray air. All seemeth as calm as an infant's dream, AA far as the eye may keen ; But the cannon blast That just BOW passed, Hath awakened ten thousand men. AD order is blown from ship to ship. All round and round it rings ; And each .-ailor is stirred By the warlike word, And his jacket he downward flings. He stripped his arm to hi.s shoulder strong ; He girditb his loius about ; And he answers the cry Of the foeman nigh, With a cheer and a noble shout. What follows ? a pug. and a flash of light, And Lhe boouiing of a gun ; A nd a scream that shoots To the heart's red roots, aud we know that a fight's begun. . a thousand shots at onee let loose ; aiuh tiies noni its brazen den, (Like the plague's swift breath,) Ou it* deed of death, And smites down a hie of men. X;... g ,ti- in their thick-tougued thunder speak, a : the frigate all rOck and ride, And timbers crash, Aud the mad \va\e* dash, y all far and wide ; And as the skies run piercing cries, and ltiliug.oiie tale ol woe ; i hat tbe struggle still, Between good and ill, Goes on in the earth below. ,**♦** [i •, tuses iii gloom, oil his western road ; i. c moon returns again ; H .t.ofa! who looked bright, In the morning light, Then are mil} a thorn-arid men. 1 k"V • 1 l '' lc brooding clouds ou high! h.ok up,at the awlul sun! A d, behold—the'sea flood! Is all red with blood ; lj. d, i battle islost—ana won ! £e I e 111 i £ a li. The Criminal Witness. ) A LAWYER'S STORY. 1 the sprinti of 1348 I was called to Jack Alabama, to attend court having hen gaged to delend a young man who hud been used of rolibmg the mail I arrived early the warning, and immediately hud a long mlt-rence with my client. The stolen mail ig had been i cover-d. us well as the let ers m which i lie money hud been rifled. These tnr> were given me for examination and I domed tliern to the prosecuting attorriev livi'. j got through my private preliminaries ut no, >11, and as the case would not come I until the next day, F went into the court in - afternoon to see what was going on. The itv.MSit that came up was that of theft, aud :hf prisoner was a youug girl of not more than *r >c i years of age, named Elizabeth Mad 1 tli She was very pretty, and bore that : i innocent look, which we seldom find in a wprit She had been weeping pro'usely, but * she found so many eyes upon her she be :.iiie too fr ghtened to weep more. The complaint against her set forth that 1 had stolen one hundred dollars from a fc Naseby, and as the case went on, I found this Mrs. Naseby, a wealthy widow living .oe town, was the girl's mistress. The poor fi declared her innocence in the wildest •'Hi, but circumstances were hard against A hundred dollars in bank notes had stolen from her mistress' room, aud she •* die only oue that had access there At this juncture, when the mistress was up *• U>e witness staud, a young man came and lit m<- by the arm He was a fine 'onk ' man, and the big tears stood in his eyes They tell me you are a good lawyer,' be ,r i'-p>Tt-h I IQI n lawyer, I answeied. Tiwu do gave her You certainly can do ' • " r dt is innocent ' H die Ayiir sister V N °, " lr , he udded, 1 but, bot—' 11-re he hesitated H is she no counsel ?' I ask'-d - ri" t at is good for anything—nobody 1 *ill do anything for her. O ! save her, '■l ii give you all I've got. I can't give . • iuijcli Lut l can raise something.' r ' liK'ied a moment I cast my eyes to 1 • the prisoner, and she was at that nao -1 1 coking at me She caught my eye, and v utile of humble entreaty 1 read iu her ' ireolved me iu a moment. I arose and 'o trie girl and asked her if she wanted dih nd her. She said yes. I then in ,, ®"J iLe court that I was rendy to enterin and wa.> udimtted at once The t „- '" !iriJlUr > of satisfaction 'hat ran quickly w ""'irii tire room told me where the sympa " ,af 'hf people were. I asked for amo - cessation that I might speak to mv cli t We, 't and sat down by her side, and fit " r 10 hlHte candidly the whole case, irlr' me R l ,e ' ia H lived with Mrs. Naseby j two years, aud had never any trouble Hi,, About two weeks ago, she said, her e unssed it from her drawer,' the girl taw • me ' a as ' Die about it. 1 said I .\" '"Alt'fig about it. That, eveniug I know ► t , y I-'"her told Mrs Naseby that she saw ■ - money from the drawer—that she THE BRADFORD REPORTER. watched me through the keyhole. Then she went to my trunk and fonnd twenty five dol lars of the missing mouey there. But, sir, I never took it, aud somebody must have put it there.' I then asked her if she suspected any one. ' I don't know,' she said, ' who would have done it but Nancy. She has never liked me, because she thought I was better treated than she. She is the cook, I am the chambermaid.' She pointed Nancy Luther out to me. She was a stout, bold-faced girl, somewhere be tween five and twenty years old, with a low torehead, small gray eyes, a pug nose and thick lips. I caught her glance at once as it rented 00 the fair young prisoner, and the moment I delected the look of hatred which I read there, 1 wus convinced that she was the rogue. ' Naucy Luther, did you say that girl's name was ?' I asked, lor a new light had bro ken in ou me. ' Ves, sir.' ' Tbeu rest easy ; I will try hard to save you ' I left the court room and went to the proa eculing attorney and asked him for the letters i had handed him—the ones that had been stolen troin the mail bag. Selecting one which 1 promised to res-.ore by night, 1 returned to the court room ami the case went on. Mrs Naseby resumed her testimony She said she entrusted he room to the prisoner's care, and that no one else had access there, save herself Then she described about the missing money, and closed by telliug how she found it in the prisoner's trunk Sin- could -wear it was the identical money s'~e luid lost, in two tens and one one live dollar bank notes. '.Mrs. Naseby,'jl said "when you first missed the money, had you any reason to believe the prisoner had taken it V ' No, sir.' ' Had you ever before detected her in any dishonesty? 1 ' No, sir.' ' Should you have thought of searching her trunk, had not Nancy Luther udvised and in formed you ?' ' No, sir.' Mrs Naseby left the stand and Nancy Lu ther took her place She came up with a bold look, as if to say, ' trap me if you can.' She nave her evidence as follows : She said that n the night the money was taken she saw the prisoner going up stairs, and from the sly manner in which she went up, she suspected all was not right. So she followed her up. ' Elizabeth went to Mrs. Naseby'a room and shut the door after ln-r I stooped down and looked through the key hole ; and saw her lake out the tnonev and put it in her pocket Then she stooped down and picsed up t In* lamp, and as 1 saw she was com ing ou I hurried away ' Then she went on and told how she propos ed to search the girl's trunk I called Mrs Naseby to the stand ' Von said that no one, save the prisoner and yourself had access to your room,'l said ; ' now could Nancy Luther have entered the room if she had wished ?' ' Certuinly, sir; I ineaut that no one else had any right there ' I saw that Mrs Nasebv, though naturally a hard woman, was somewhat moved by poor Elizabeth's misery ' Could your cook have known by any means HI your knowledge, whero the money wus ?' ' Yes, sir ; for she has often come to my room while I was there, and I have given her money to buy provisions of market men who happen to come ah ug with their wagons. ' One more question. Have you known of the prisoner's baviug auv money since this was stolen V ' No, sir.* I now called Nancy Luther back, and she began to tremble a little, though her look was as Oold and defiant as ever. ' Miss Luther,' said I, ' why did you not inform your mistress at once of what you had seen, without waiting for her to a.ik about the lost money?' ' Because I could not at ouce make up my mind to expose the poor girl,' she answered promptly ' You say you looked through the keyhole aud saw her take the mouey ?' ' Yes, sir.' ' Where did she place the lamp when she did so ?' " Ou the bureau.' ' Iu your testimony you said she stooped down when she picked it up. What do you mean by that ?' The girl hesitated, and finally she said she did not mean anyting, only that she picked up the lamp. ' Very well,' said I, ' how long have yon been with Mrs Naseby V ' Not quite a year, sir.' ' How much does she pay you a week ? ' A dollar and three quarters ' ' Have you tuken up any of your pay since you have beeu there ? ' Yes, sir.' ' How much ?' ' I don't kuow, sir.' ' Why don't you know V ' liow should 1 ? 1 have taken it at vari ous turn s, .just as I wanted it, and kept 110 ac count.' • Now if you had wished to harm the pris oner, could you have raised twenty five dot iais to put in her trunk Y ' No, sir,' she replied, with virtuous indigna tion. ' Then you have not laid up any money since vou have been there ?' ' No, sir ; ouly what Mrs. Naseby may owe me.' ' Then you did not have any twenty-five d liars when you came there V ' No, sir : and what's more, the money found iu the girl's trunk was the money Mrs Nase by lost You might have known that ii you d remembered what you asked her " This was said very sarcastically, and was intended as a crusher upon the idea that sheshouid have put the money in the prisoner's trunk. However, I was not entirely overcome. PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. GOODRICH. ' Will you tell me if you belong to this State ?' ' I do, sir.' ' In what town ?' She hesitated, aud for a moment the bold look forsook her, but she fiually answered, ' I belong to Somers, Montgomery county.' I next turned to Mrs Naseby, ' Do you ever take a receipt from your girls, when you pay them.' ' Always.' ' Can you send and get one of them ftr me?' She has told the truth about the payments,' ! said Mrs Naseby. ' O, I don't doubt it, but particular proof is the thing for the court room. So, if you can, I wish you would procure the receipt.' She said she would willingly go if the court said so. The court did 60 and she went Her dwelling was not far off and she soon returned aud handed me four receipts, which I took aud examiued. They were signed in a strange stag gering hand by the witness. 'Now, Nancy Luther,' I said, turning to the witness, aud speakiug in a quick, startling tone t and at the 6ame time lookiug bcr sternly iu the eye, ' please tell the court uud jury, aud tell me, where you got the seventy five dollars yon sent in your letter to your sister in Somers V The witness started as though a volcano had opened at her feet She turned pale as death, and every limb shook violently I waited un til the people could have an opportunity to see her emotion, and then I repeated the question. | 'I never—sent —any,' she gasped. ' You did !' I thundfred, for I was excited ' now ' I d n't,' she faintly muttered, grasping the railing by her side for support. ' May it plea-e your honor and gentlemen of the jury,' 1 said a soon as I had looked her out of countenance, ' I came here to defend a man who wa o arrested for robbing the mailpind I the in course of my preliminary examinations I had access to the letters which had been torn open and robbed of money. When I entered upon this case, und heard the name of this witness, I went out and got this letter which I hold in my hand, for I remembered having seen one bearing the signature of Nancy Lu ther. This letter was taken from the mail bag, and by looking at the post mark you will observe that it was mailed the day after the hundred dollars were taken from M ra. Nase by s dniwer. I will read it, if you please.' The Court nodded assent, and I read the fol lowing, which was without date, save that made by the postmaster ou the outside. I give it verbatm : SISTER Doners : I cend you hear scveuty five dolers which i want yu to cepe fur me til! i cum hum i cant kepe it cos im a feerd it will git stole dont speck wun word to a iivin sole abou' this i dont uuut cuybody to no ive got eny inuny yu wont now will you im furst rate hear only that good fur nothin snipe of liz mad worth is hear yet but I hop to git over her now yo no i wrote to yu bout yer giv my luv to all inquirin freus this is from ycur sister til death NANCV LUTHER. ' Now, your honor,' I said, as I gave him the letter, and also the receipts, ' you will see that the letter is directed to Dorcas Luther, Somers, Montgomery county. Aud you will observe that one hand wrote that letter and signed the receipts, and the jury will also ob si rve. And now I w ill only add it is plain to see how the hundred dollars were disposed of. Seventy fivedollars were seat off for safe keep ing, while the remaining twenty five dollars were placed in the prisoner's trunk for the pur pose of covering the real criminal. Of tbe \ tone of parts of the letter yon must judge. I leave my cliant's case in your hands.' The case was given to the jury immediately following their examination of the letter. They had heard from the witness' own mouth that she had no money of her own, and without leaving their seats they returned a verdict of ' Not Guilty.' I will not describe the scene that followed, but if Nancy Luther had not been immediate ly arrested tor the theft, she wonld have been injured by tbe excited people. The next morn ing I received a note handsomely written, in which I was told that the within was but a slight token of the gratitnde due me for my efforts in behalf of a poor defenceless maiden It contained one hundred dollars, and was signed " Several Citiaens." Shortly afterwards t he youth who first begged me take up the case called upon me with all the money he could , raise, but I showed him that I had already been paid, and refused his bard earning. Be fore 3 left town I was a gaest at his wedding —my fair clieut being the happy bride. MRS. PARTINGTON'S LAST —Ike goes for a soldier. Mrs. Partington makes a farewell address. " Ike, my son, stand up while I dre.-s you—hold my bonnet and specks Fellow soldier Ii is the abandoned doty of all to be patriarchal in these times, and to baud dowu, unrepaired, the glorious flag of a'l seceediug generation " [Here Ike commenced couuting off ihe new fashioned cheer, swinging the old bonnet up and down as he went in—one, two, three, tiger ] " March hesitatingly into the contented field, and if a rebel demands your quarters, tel! him you had but three, aud the lust oue is speut ; then, if he wont quit and leave, ' quit yourself like a man,' aud may you have a glorious cauipaigu oi it. son of tbe Emerald Isle,who in tell ing of his adventures in this coantry to a friend said : " The first feathered bird I ever sew in Ameriky was a porkentine. I treed him un der a hay-stack, aud shot him with a bam shovel ; and the first time I shot him I missed him, and the second time 1 hit him where I missed him before !" man in Germantown says he has a little machine iu hia house which has acquired perpetual motion It is a simple contrivance, requires no weights, lines or springs to make it go, but go it does, and not only will not stop, but to save his life he caouot stop it,— It is hie wife's toDgue " REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANT QUARTER." The White Angel. Some children stood in a group before the door of the village houso one lovely summer evening. j "Tbey were all talking pleasantly together, , from Kline, the son of the rich and proud | Hoffmeißi:er, to the little bine-eyed Carl, the only child of the poor baker. It is very true that Kline wore a velvet j jacket richly embroidered, while Carl's coat was old, and bis wooden shoes were roogb enough in all conscience. But what of that ? If they were good friends what difference did that make, I should like to know? Wait till children become grown people, for pity's sake, before you expect them to measure oth er's worth by what they possess or wear. " The new schoolmaster, Meinheer Fried rich, comes to-morrow," said Otto. " 1 am so glad. I am weary of old Master Hoff man, with his crooked problems and hard les ; sons." "So was I, truly," said Kliue, who although a good merry boy, hated his books as he did medicine. " Ah ! thoa didst always like play better than work, my Kline," said Max, " and so do I, Meinheer Friendrich which will be wise if he keeps thee and me apart during school hoars. But, come—see which can get home first—one, two, three 1" and away they all scampered, laughing and shouting as only school boys can. The followiug day the boys were standing around tbe school house, when the door opeu ed, and Master Friedrich himself appeared,and cried, in a cheery, hearty voice : " Welcome, ray children 1" " Welcome, master 1" cried they. And uow they entered and took their seats, aud were quite still while the good master read a short chapter in the Book of Books ; and then reverently prayed thut the dear Savior would guide them in his teachings, and bless them, and send His Holy Spirit to watch over them all. School began ; the thumb worn books were brought out ; the lazy boys began to sigh and frown, and wish impatiently for the recess,and wonder why Latin dictionaries were ever in vented ; when, as if by magic, they found them selves listening to tha pleasant voice of Matter Friedrich, and actually understanding their les sons—so clear and simple were his explana tions;and the time of recess came,to their great astonishment, long before they had expected. When the studies were over,the master drew from hi 3 desk a box and whilst the children gathered around he opened it, and drew out charming little white and pink sea seells.pretty pictures,and many other beautiful things, which be gave to the children with loving words. But the most lovely thiug of all was a little porcelain statute of an angel. She stood—so so pure—with her small white hands fold ed over her breast.and her eyes uplifted,and the children gazed, euehantingly. " Oh, the dear angel, the beautiful angel," cried they all. " Wilt thou not give it to me Master Friedrick ?" But the gooi master smiled and said : "The liuie angel is too lovely to be given to any boy who is not good and true cf heart.— We shall presently see who shall deserve her He who brings me to-morrow the brightest thing or earth shall have the angel." At this tbe children looked at each other,,as if wondering what the good master might meau. But h said no more, and they went home thoughtfully. The next day, after the lessons (which had now become so pleasant) were finished the children clustered around the master, to show him what they had brought. Some of the smaller ones had picked up i sparkling stones on the road, and as they held 1 them in the sun-light, were sure they must be something bright and precious. Sine had polished up a shilling till it shone like a little crown; one brought a watch crystal which his father had given him, aud which he considered a wonder of transparent brightness; and Kliue, the rich Hoffuieister's son, had brought a paste buckle, made to imitate diam- j onds, then which, in his opiuion, nothing could be brighter. All these things were placed on the master's desk, side by side. The shilling shone away famously, the pebbles and watch crystal did their best, but Kline's buckle was tbe bravest of all. " Ah ! mine's the brigbest I" shouted Kline, i clapping his hands. " But where is little Carl ?" said Master Fiiedricb ; "he ran out just now." All eyes were turned to the door, when pre- , sently in rushed Carl breathless. In his hands held up lovingly against his neck, was a poor little snow white dove Some crimson drops upon the downy breast showed that it was wounded. " 0, master !" cried Carl, " I was looking for something bright, when I came upon this poor little white dove Some crnel boys were tor menting it, and I caught it quickly, and ran here Oh, I fear it will die." Even as he spoke the dove's soft eyes grew filmy, it nestled closer in Carl's neck,then gave a faint cry drooping its little head, and died. Carl sauk on his kuees beside the master's desk, and from his eyes there fell upon the white dove's poor broken wings two tears large aDd bright. The master took the dead dove from his hands, and laid it tenderly down on the desk with the bright things ; then ra : sing Carl, he softly said " My children, there is no brighter thing on earth thsn a tender pitying heart." The boys were silent far a ruomeut, for tbey felt that the master decided that Carl bad fairly won the angel; then Kline cried out : " My master, thou didst not fairly explain to ns. I pray thee give ns another trial." " Yes, dear master!" said Max, give us one more trial." " What safest thon, Carl ?" said Master Fredrich. " Yes, dear master," answered the generous boy, The good master smiled thoughtfully, and his eyes rested for a moment loviuglv upon Carl, then glancing around he said : " He who brings me the loveliest thing on earth to morrow shall have the angel." The children clupped their hands and de parted satisfied. 1 After school the next day Kline was the first to ran to Master Fredrich and lay upon his desk what he considered the loveliest thing I in the whole world, his new soldier cap, with the long scarlet feather, and bright golden tassel. Max came next, and placed beside the cap ' a small silver watch, his last birthday gift with a bright steel watch chain attached. Otto brought a great pictnre book, just sent to him by his good-mother. Rudolph, a tiDj marble vase, richly sculptured ; and so OD, until a more motley collection than before lay upon Mister Friedrich's desk Then poor little Carl stepped modestly up, and placed in the master's hand a pure lilly. The rich perfume filled iho room, aud bend ing over tbe flower, inhaling the delicious frag rance, the master softly said—" My cbildreu, the blessed Word of God says, " Behold the lilies of tbe valley ; they toil not, neither do they spin, yet Solomon, in all his glory, wa3 not arrayed like oue of these." Carl has right ly chosen." But murmurs arose ; the children were not satisfied ; and again they asked for another trial. And as beforo, good Master Friedrich in quired: " What sayest thou, Carl?'' and he ausv/er ed as before, with generous haste. "Yes, dear master." " Now this is the last time," said the master; " and he who brings me the btst t/nagon eartA shall have the angel." "The very best thing on earth is plum cake," cried Kline on the third day, as he walked up to the desk, bearing a largo cake richly frost ed, with a wreath of sugar roses around the edge—this he placed triumphantly before the master, sute of the prize. "Nay, thou art wrong this time, Kline," said Max. " I asked my father what was the very best thing on earth, and he gave me this golden guilder—the prise is mine." " Ah I but my father said that the very best thing was a good glass of Rhenish wine," cried Otto, "and I have brought a bottle of it thirty years old—tbe prize is surely mine." So t hey went on till all had placed their offer ings before the master. " And thou, Carl," said he, " what hast thou brought which thou thickest the best thing on earth ?" A crimson flush rose to the little boy's fore head, aud coming softly forward he too* from his brtast a small worn Testament, pressed it to his lips, and tbeu reverently laid it down with the rest, as he said, iu a low, sweet voice —" My mother, dear master says that God's precious Testament, is lar beyoud all earthly possessions." " Tis thine, my Carl," cried the master, snatching the boy to his breast. " The white angel is thine ! for there is nothing iu the wide world half so precious as the blessed words of Christ and he placed tbe angel in the hands of the irembliug boy. Kline kuit bis brow and gazed with anger und disappointment at little Carl, and the rest, seeing hiu do this, felt themselves aggrieved ; i but suddenly the cloud cleared from Kline's fuce, and rushing forward he caoglit Carl in his arras, crying, " Forgive me, dear Carl, now I am right glad thou bust won the prize." Ah ! the blessed effect of a bright example ! Quickly joining hands, the children danced joy fully around little Carl, who stood iu their midst, the white angel pressed to his heart— bis hair falling in curls on his shoulders and his eyes full of tears, i The good Master Friedrich also went with joy, and prayed from the depth of his pure and , simple heart that the Savior would b'ess this lessou to the children's everlasting good. He had tarued away, that none might perceive his tears But One iQ Heaven 6aw them, Master Fried rich. A Capacious Swallow. We stated in our last that a whale got en tangled iu the cable of an emigrant vessel at Pambeu. Tbe published letter from J. T. Reidy shows that the animal swallowed the anchor, and got hooked by its flukes. We mentioned that the vassel had been dragged thirty miles in five hours, or at the rate of six miles an hour. Mr Reidy computes the total distance at fifty miles, and the rate of reaching the railroad speed of fifteen miles an hour ! The case is one of the most extraor dinary on record A ship takes to angling, using her anchor tor a book—catches aw hale and finds that the case very much resembles the celebrated one of ' catchiug a tartar.' The whale runs away with the ship and a couple of hundred human beings ; playing all sorts of fantastic tricks ; finally gets sick and casts np the anchor. Here is Mr. lleidy's accouut of this strauge encounter between the ship aud the whale. We wish we could get the whale's accouut of his proceedings aud seusntious. If he survives this will be a lesson to him to be more choice of his feeding for the future. Irou is certainly useful as a tonic, but our cetacious friend mast have misapprehended his doctor's prescription when he took to swallowing it in the mass. Sydney Smith hoped his friend Selwvn would disagree with the New Zealun ders if they swallowed him. We fear the re maining fluke will disagree with our marine friend—if he will allow us to call him so. I have tbe ho ior to inform you 1 left Devi pitbauj on the 20th inst., with the two schoon ers having ou board 240 coolies We arrived here (Taltmanaar) ou Saturday, the 24tb iu staut, at 4 p. m. Having the wind diree'ly against us on coming opposite to Ramisserain bagoda, we aachored there at 6 o'clock, p. m., intending to start during the night for Tab m anaar, wheu the wind would change. About 8 o'clock, p. m , 1 was silting ou the small poop, when suddenly the bow of tbe vessel was pulled on a level with the sea ; then came a slight shock and a large shower of spray ali over the vessel, after which we shot off at a railway speed. I was very much alarmed by VOL. XXII. 3STO. 81. *~T T I- • KKJQ'M " IV the shock and spray, thinking we might have drifted on some of the coral reefs. In about a mionte a whale, some forty or fifty feet long, made bis appearance forward at cable's length from the vessel ; then, for the first time, I knew how matters were. Very extraordinary, indeed, the whale had swallowed oar anchor, and was firmly hooked. At the time the whale hooked himself we were in six fathoms j the evening was very calm, and the moos ap peared above the horizon. All the coolies were very much alarmed, and indeed so were we all. I was going twice to cat away the anchor and cable, but having only another ca ble on board, I did uot like to do so, as, if I had, I should stop the vessel, as I would not risk her in this weather depending on one ca- I ble. I think the way the whale got entangled most Save been when he was feeding, ranrflng with moatb fully extended, when, coming with his under iaw against the fluke of the anchor, ! he seized it up, and having turned it in his mouth, was unable to extricate himself. Ido not otherwise see how it could have occurred. ; The whale got hooked about 8 o'clock, p. m. He then went off at full speed ahead, then I stopped, and whirled us about rapidly; then I went on forward again fully at the rate of fif teen miles an boor ; again whirling us about, and puding us right and left, and showing him self, and spouting every naiaute ; aud this con ; tiuued until one o'clock, a m. From his site ! I do not think he could have been a gram pus, as I feel certaiu he must have been forty or fifty feet in length. He took us N. by N. ' E. over iifty miles. At ono o'clock on Saturday morning the vessel stopped running and the whale lifted up his head out of the water about ten feet, and went off, leaving the anchor (Lifting to tlio vessel. lie was hooked five hours and was nearly dead when the anchor got loose.— We then turned the vessel set sails, aniLstood in for Paumben light, which we made by day light., aud eoutinued UDder sail until we ar rived at Talemanaar. — Ceylon Observer, DOX'T GET DISCOURAGED.— Don't get dis couraged ! Whoever gained anything by draw ing down the corners of his month when a cloud oame over the son, or letting his heart drop like a lead-weight into his shoes when misfor tune came upon him ? Why, man, if the world knocks you down end jostles past you ID its great race, don't sit whining under people's feet, but get up, rub your elbows, and begin again. There are some people who even to look at is worse than a dose of chamomile tea. What if you do happen to be a little puzzled on the dollar and cent question ? Others be sides you have stood in exactly the same spot, and struggled bravely out of it, aud you are neither halt, lame nor blind, that you cannot do likewise I The weather may be dark and rainy very well ; laugh between the drops and think cheerily of the blue sky andsnnshiue that will surely come to morrow ! Business may be dull; make the best of what you have, and look forward to something more hopeful. If you catch a full, don't lament over your bruise, but be thankful that no bones are brok en. If you can't afford roast beef and plum podding, eat your codfish joyfully and bless your stars for the indigestion and dyspepsia you thereby escape ! But the moment you begin to look over your troubles and count up the calamities you may as well throw yourself over the wharfs aud be done with it. The luckiest fellow that ever lived, might have woes en ough, if he set himself seriously to work look ing them up. They are like iuvisible specks of dust ; yon don't see 'em till you put on your spectacles to discover what is a great deal better let alone. Don't get discouraged, little wife ! Life is Dot long enough to spend in inflaming your eyes and reddening your nose because the pud ding won't bake, and your husband says the new shirts you worked over so long " set like bad." Make another pudding—begin tbe shirts anew ! Don't feel "down in the month" because the dust will settle, and clothes will wear out, and crockery will get broken. Being a woman don't procure yoo an exemption from trouble and care ; you have got to fight tbe battle of life as well as your husband, and it will never do to give up without a bold strug gle Take things as they come, good aud bad together, and when you feel iuclixed to cry, just change your mind and laugh ; never turn a blessing around to see if it has got a dark side to it, and always take it for granted that things are blessings until they prove to be something else. Never allow yourself to get discouraged, and you'll find the world a pretty comfortable sort of place alter all. LIFF. —At best is not very long. A few more smiles, a few more tears, some pleasures, much pain, sunshiue and song, clouds and dark ness, hasty ereetiugs, and abrupt farewells— then our little play will close, and injured ant) injurer will pass away. Is it worth while to hate each other ? QUAKER'S Anvics.—Never marry n woman worth more than thou art. When I married my wife, I was worth just fifty shillings, and sb" worth sixty-five ; and whenever any differ ence has occurred between us since, she has always thrown up the odd shillings. tea?* Bashfnlness is more frequently connect ed with good sense than we find assurance ; and impudence on the other baud, is often the effect of downright stupidity. Btjf* The Chicago Trifaivf has Information from an unquestioned s<.o:ee, that five thou sand acres in Illinois will be planted with cot ton the coming year. St&° A little boy being asked in Sunday school, " what's the chief end of m*D ?" an swered, " The end what's got the bead on.* I®* The girls say that the times are 60 hard that the young men cauuot pay their address es. 6ST In order to deserve a true friend, you must first learn to be os*
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers