BY HENRY J. STAIILE.
38T H YEAR.
TERMS OF THE COMPILER.
IT7 The Repablienn Gin:idler is published
every Monday niorning. by HENRY J. STAIILE,
at $1,75 per annum if paid in advance---$2,00
per annum if not paid in advance. No sub-
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-tblisher. until all arrearages are paid,
the pu
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079tfice on South Baltimore street, direct
ly-opposite Wampler's Tinning Establishment,
one and a half squares from the Court Bouse.
ei ) otEe 13 octtp.
The Best Estate.
BY CHARLES SWAIN
The Heart it bath its own estate;--
The Mind it hath its wealth untold ;
It needs no fortune to be great,
While there's a coin surpaming gold
No matter which way fortune leans.
Wealth makes not happiness secure ;
A little mind loth little mcaus—
A narrow heart is always poor.
Stern Fate the greatest stiltenthrals,
Aud misery bath its high o iinpeers,
For Sorrow enters palace halls,
And queens ate nut exempt from tears
The princely robe and beggar's coat,
The scythe and sword, the plume and plow,
Are in the grave of equal note—
Men live but in the eternal " now !"
•
&till disappointment tricks the proud,
The bravest 'neath defeat.may fall ;
The high, the rich. the courtly crowd,
Find there's calamity far all.
I Tis not the house that honor tnakes—
, True honor is a thing divine ;
It is the mind precedence takes—
IC is the 'spirit makes the shrine !
So keep thou yet a generous heart,
A Aeadfast and contented mind;
And not, till death. bonseut to part .
With that %chi& Friend to friend doth
What's uttered from the life within
Is heard not by the life without;
There's always something to begin .
'Twist life in faith and life iu doubt-.
But grasp thou Truth—though black appears
The rugged path her steps have trod—
She'll be thy friend in other spheres ;
Couipauion in the world of God.
The Snow.
The silvery snow !.—the silvery snow !
Like a glory it falls on the fields below;
And the trees with their diamond branches appear
Like the fairy growthof some magical sphere
ir% bile soft as inui:3ic. and wild as white,
glitters and floats in the pale moonlight,
And spangles the river and fount as they Llow;
Oh ! who JIM nut loved the bright, beautiful snow !
The silvery snow., and the crinkling frost—
How merry we go when the earth seems 'oat ;
Like spirits that rise from the dust of Time,
To live in a purer and holier clime
A new creation without a stain—
Lovely
as Heaven's own pure domnirt.
But. ah like the many fair hopes of our years,
It glitters awhile—and then melts into tears.
Select Stan.
A Christmas Story.
MY CHILDREN IN .ITOPIA.
BY HARRY GRAY.
It was Christmas-eve. and.l was seated in
my easy chair, drawn up before the blazing
wood-fire in my quiet study, lost in a golden
reverie. Beautiful pictures of long ago, kept
green in memory through many twilight mus
ings, were passing before me. The present,
too, with its cheerful realities; and the far-off
future, with its hopeful plans, came to fill my
heart with happiness. How long my reverie
lasted I scarcely know, but 1 was suddenly
aroused from it by seeing the old oak doer—
..that door which had been closed for many a
year, that passed into the chamber where
mother died--slowly open, and timidly and
noiselessly come forth my- two-little ones,
'Mary and Fanny. By what means they had
obtained ingress into that long-deserted room,
the key of which I keep in the private drawer
of my secretary, I never thought. to ask. So I
seated theta, one on either knee,.while they
twined their little arms, caressingly about my
neck. and kissing me with their red lips, said
they had conic for papa to tell them some Christ
mas stories. I felt that God had been very
ktud in bestowing upon tne two such precious
gifts.
Mary, my elder child, has the dark hair and
the sparkling bliick eyes of her mother, and
the very look which,. in my early manhood,
had such power to draw me to that mother's
side. Fanny, my baby-girl, has light hair and
mild, blue eyes, and resembles—for so I think
when in the musing mood—a fair dream of my
boyhood, which faded into the shadow-land
long before I knew how to distinguish between
_love and sl , iterly_allection. -Mary is all vivaci. -
ty and life ; Fanny is reserved and quiet ; Mary
laughs aloud. Fanny only smiles ; Mary moves
about our home like a singing bird, Fanny
like a gleam of sunshide.
'‘And what," asked I, '.shall papa tell to his
little daughters ?"
-Oh,'" said Mary, quickly. "first of all tell
us those funny verses about Santa Claus corn
ing down the chimney, dressed in furs, carry
ing a big pack on his back and with a pipe in
his ttetir, to fill our s-tockings. ,,
"And then." said Fanny, 'please repeat,
papa, that pretty hymn of sheplierds sitting on
the ---- grounil watching their flocks by nig it.
when the angel appeared and tuld thew of
Christ's coming."
And so, iA bile I repeated good Bishop
Moore's well-known Christmas verses, they
listened quietly. and when I ended. Mary ex
claimed.clapping her hands with childish glee
•O)h, how I should like to see 6,4iita Claus
and the reindeers ! And don't you think,
Papa, that. if I should sit up to-night fur Saint
ICK an ask itn to give me a arge wa x
doll. with eyes that open and shut, just like -I
the one Coui.tit Nina lia4, he would du-it ? 2 -)-
end me a taiuk. lull of pictures aad prett:
Stone. ?" chimed in Fanny.
I had - nut the heart to tell them that Santi.
Clads was but as Luaazzaary beano, for I con-
Xculupaittr----Pruntrit fn Votitirs: 3grirulturr, r itrnaturr, 3tts kritarro, 311arkrt5, (Rural Vumrstir ank farrigu 3utriiipurr, 3hertiging, .Inranutrnt, fir.
sider that these mysteries of our childhood—
this belief in fairies and good spirits—are of
too poetical and beautiful a nature to be rude
ly disenchanted of at an early age. The ideals
of our childhood disappear fast enough before
ones that I would speak to the saint in their
behalf,while they. nestled snugly in bed. should
be dreaming . of dolls and books, and I doubt
not but their wishes would.,be gratified. Here
Mary kissed my cheek and called me her good
papa, while Fanny, held her head upon my
shoulder and looked up into my face, her mild
eyes beaming with gratitude.
They were both very quiet and attentive
while I repeated the Christinas hymn ; and
when I had finished it, they asked• the for
another, and then,another,till I s uite exhaust,-
ed my stock of hymns and had to bring my
inventive powers to the task in conjuring suit=
able stories for the Christmas-eve. I remem-,
ber I told them tales wherein the words plum
pudding and mince pies, roast to-keys and
flagons of ale,the yule log and wassail.had prom
inent place. But I found that they bOth loved
best to hear me tell of things that happened
many long years before to myself, when I was
a little boy, and hung 'up my stocking on
Christmas eves ;:and, among other stories, I
told them how. when I was a very small lad,
not bigger than Fanny, I had gone with their
great-grandmother Gray to the house of an old
friend of hers, who lived in' the country, to
spend the holidays. It was Christmas-eve
when we arrived, and, as we had ridden a long,
distance, in an open sleigh, I was Very tired
and sleepy, and so, soon after supper, I
. asked
to be put to bed. Here Mary interrupted me
to say that I Must have been a very little boy
indeed to want to go to bed so early on Christ
mas-eve, and that, for her part she shouldn't
have been sleepy in the least ; but would have
liked to sit up all night. This I knew was in
tendea as a hint - to allow both Fanny and her
self to stay up beyond the usual bed-time ; so
I let the hour go by without diSintssing,theio,
and continued my story.
The chamber which I was to occupy with
grandmother. was a very large one, filled with
old-fashioned furniture ;. and I remember she
told tile that the greater part of it ;acne over in
the Mayflower along with the Pilgrim Fathers ;
and while she undressed rue, she told me a long
story about Captain Miles Standish and Gov
ernor Carver, and the Indians, and Plymouth
Rock, the greater portion of which_ I can still
recall to mind. Ilere Mary wanted me to tell
her what it was, but Fanny said. "no, wait till
papa has finished telling us about himself."—
So I continued as follows :
"There seemed to my sleepy little eyes to he
quite an army of r chairs ranged about the room,
and, with their high, straight backs and long
slender legs, they looked so strange, it::. - was
difficult for me to keep from watching them.
I half expected to see them step out 'into the
middle of the room and make formal bows to
each other. There was a large black walnut
book-case on one side of the room, filled with
great dusty volumes, that looked - as, if they
could never have been read ; and I recollect
walking boldly up to it, in my night-gown",
and finding that the books on the lowest shelf
were just as tall as I was, I Wondered whether
I. would ever be able to read such hush vol
umes."
Here Fanny clapped her hands, and wanted
to know if, when I came to be: a man, I had
ever seen those great books again; and whe-'
ther or not they had many pictures in them.—
S I told her that they were the very ones she
and Mary so often, of rainy Sundays, were
fond of looking at, and having me explain the
.pictures to them. This piece of news setwz(,..‘
LO astonish them very much, so that they ban
got down and went to the book-case to look at
those wonderful books, which, so many ye r'
before, I had wondered at when a little boy.
They were very anxious to know how it. came
to pass, that I now owned them, and I told
them that, one day, the good old lady, -their But I heard the church bells ringing mid
grandmother's friend, who first possessed them, night, and proclaiming to all the world the
died, when all her furniture and .books were glad tidings. "that unto- us this night is horn.
sold, and I had bought these with many others. in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ
Here Fanny said, —poor old lady," and cross- the Lord." And my voice joined in the migh
, I • • • .
IA bleb Li ;Lend.
looking up into usy face must piteously, while
her eyes filled with fears. But Mary asked,
.‘where was her husband ? why didn't he keep
her books ?" So I bad to tell her that he had
been a soldier, but was killed at the battle of
Bunker's Hill, soon after their marriage.
At length I continued :--“Among other
things in the chamber that particularly attract
ed-my attention were several portraits, in gilt
frames, upon the walls, so old and dusky that
I thought to myself, they, too, mast have conic
over in the Mayflower. There were two oval
framed mirrors in the room, and a great bunch
of peacock's feathers in one corner.
4•But the bedstead itself was - the crowning
wonder ; so grand and gloomy did it look that
I quite feared to sleep in it. Heavy, blue vel
vet curtains surrounded it on every side,up
held by four, tall posts at the corner. When
my grandmother, however, parted the curtains
in the middle, and roofed them up at the sides,
with the great silk tassel, thereby revealing
the white counterpane and lace-edged pillow
cases, 1 began to think that there might be a
woise place for sleeping in than that would
prove to be. So raised was the bed from the
floor that I had to be lifted into it, as it quite
excelled my powers of climbing, even by the
aid of a chair. When I sunk down in the lea
coirkl-tart-jest-ste the top orray grand=
mother's turban, as she stood at the bedside
smoothing the coverlet about me. After I had
repeated my prayers; and my grandmother had
gone down stairs, and I was left alone, with
only the ticking of the clock upon the mantle,
and the light ot the blazing wouct-tire upon the
hearth, to keep we company, 1 remembered
that it was Christmas-eve, and that, occupied
as I had been, I had forgotten to hang u p ivy
stocking."
Here Mary got down from my knee, and
crept quietly to the chimney corner, where she
bun' tv) a clean, white stocking, with wbleu
her mother provided tier, and coining back,
L!tighing, said she wouldn't forget such - a
thing
fur all t h e a ,i1.1(1.
`..Nor kill 1," -aid Fiume-, "So soon as papa
finishes hIS story." Su kissed my little
daughters, and oynzinued :
" What to do I thrt not khow. I eould - nnt
get out of bed will' any certainty of being able
to get hack again ; and a. for going 10 ,ieep
With never a storilung_-_for.S.trita__l.2l;..us_to-fill-,-:
it wa.s not Ltiou-at uf. So [ determined to
wide - awake - , till either the good saint or
7„-randrantirt=xhouid arrive but I round it
. y difficult for miry sleepy eves to keep oi.;en.
every le W liniments the old Sand-malt calu,: ,
Ing and (bopped black Baal into them, LIN
it one cle..,ed ar.,l then the other; and a; 1.15 t,
GETTYSBURG, PA.: MONDAY, DEC, 24, 1855.
in spite of all T could do, they both shut up
tight and went to sleep."
Here Mary opened her large eyes very wide,
as If to let me see that no sand-man had come
to trouble her yet.
rs g
time, I was suddenly aroused-by hearing the
tinkling of sleigh-bells, and a% I raised myself
softly in bed, I saw just, by the fire;place,••
Sania Claus himself, like asbe is deseribedin
the Christmas verses."
here Mary clapped her hands, but Fanny
nestled .closer to my side.
- "lle appeared to be looking for my stock
ing, which he could not find ; and just as I had
mustered courage to tell him where it was, he
stepped up before the portrait of a gravedook
ing-gentle man ,-whO-w ore-a-pow-dered-wig;-n nd
displayed an' abundance of ruffles to his shirt
front and around his wrists, and asked him—
these were his very words—could he tell where
little. Barry's stocking was- hung.? But no
answer came from this _fine gentleman ; he on
ly shook his head, and seemed to draw back in
to the depths of the canvass. So Santa Claus
put the Same question 'to the next portrait,
which was that of a. prim and starched - gentle
woman, evidently the wife of the first ; but she
only pursed her. lips and said nothing. So he.
questioned the. third';' a jolly-looking person,
with a red.nose, and yellow waistcoat and gilt
buttons,- who nodded and winked in return,
but spoke not a word. At last in -despair, he
turned to a portrait of a dainty-looking crew
ture, dressed in white satin, with a red rose on
'her breast, and who had golden hair and blue
eyes, and evidently wanted to get up a flirta
tion with the good saint. But he seemed so
indignant at the treatment he received, that tie
turned his back upon her and would have gone
off in a rage, had I not softly wished him a
merry Christmas."
"Oh. papa, how brave you must have been,"
said Fanny ; "I am sure I wouldn't have dared
to speak to him."
"Pshaw," exclaimed Mary, "I would, and
I'd have told him, too, exactly what I wanted."
"Well, my children," I continued, "my
greetirg acted like a charm, for he instantly
opened his pack, and took from it toys. and
books, and candy, which he put upon the table,
at the bedside. Just as he finished, a loud
gush of music came up from the rooms below,
and quickly shouldering his pack ; he,passed,
with a "Merry Christmas" on his lips, direct
ly up the chimney, and the next moment I saw .
the shadow of his sleigh and reindeers glide
across the frosted windowpanes, while, with a
beating heart, full of wild, wishes for the-Mor
row to come, again t fell asleep."
As I finished my story. a. soft hand • was
placed over my eyes, and a fond voice exclaim
ed, -Barry, Barry, what a romancer you are !
How - can you fill our children's minds with
such foolish tales ?" But I soothed my too
matter-of-fact wife with the promise of a new
set of furs on the morrow, and taking her hand
in mine, drew her•to the chair beside me.—
Fanny crept close to' her mother, and: putting
up her rosy lips fora kiss, told her not to scold
dear .papa. And so. With the fire-light still
flickering on the wall, and the wind roaring
and blustering without, we passed our Christ
mas eve. And still I repeated many a pleaS
ant tale, and my sweet wife sung many an
olden song, and the children prattled en nay
knees. •
But as the midnight came, the light grew
dim, the fire mouldered on the hearth, the songs
and stories ceased, and the children's prattle
died away. And as I stretched out to -
my wife's hand in mine, I groped about in
vain ; my little Mary's artn no, longer.clasped
my neck,. nor' Fanny's head rested upon my
shoulder. I started up and. found that all had
been a dream—that wife and children of mine
lived not yet upon the earth, but had a place
only in that far-ofi land of Utopia, where su
many men's possessions and treasures ever re
main.
,:norous, "'co :rum a. :iris, ,ota arose,
•Glory to God in the highest.; and on eatth
peace, good will toward men."
Zetect illisccitann.
An Auction of Ladies.
An auction of unmarried ladies used to take
place annually in Babylon. The most beauti
ful was first put up, and the man who bid the
largest sum of money gained possession of her.
The second in personal appearance followed,
and the bidders gratified themselves with hand
some wives, according to the depth of their
purses. But, alas ! it seems there were in
Babylon some ladies for whom no money was
likely to be offered: yet these also were disposed
of, so provident were the Babylonians. When
all the beautiful virgins," says the historian,
"were sold; the crier ordered the most deformed
to stand, and alter be had openly demanded
who would marry her with a small sum, she
was at length adjudicated to the man who
would be satisfied with the least ; in this man
ner, the money arising from the sale or the
handsome served as a portion to those who
were either of disagi eeahle looks or that had
an other imperfections." This-custom pre
vailed about 500 years before Christ.
Daniel Webster's Marriage.
The manner of Daniel Webster's engagement
to Miss Fletcher is thus pleasantly told
by a fetter writer:
••He vvus then a young lawyer in Portsmouth,
N. H. At one of his visits to Miss Grace
Fletcher he had, probably with a view of util
ity an,: enjoyment, been holding skeins of silk
thread for ner. when suddenly he stopped, say
ing, "Grace, we have thus been engaged in un
tying knots ; let tis see if we c.in tie 3
01 ie—w rrre 1-- no
then took a piece of tape. and, after beginning
a knot rd a peculiar kind, gave it. to her to
comp:etc. This was the ceremony and ratifi
cation of their engagement. Arid now in the
little box lilan‘ed oy him with the v.urd.i — Pre-
CVJU.s DUCLIIIIen " containing the letters of his
e.irly courtship, this unique memorial is still
to lie found—the knot never untied."
1 - 7 -- A married. women in Pottsville. a few
days ago, was, stfely delivered of three clid
urea a 4 a ,iugle 1)110 - i - , - . — (;ki:i:ifit:Tii - ig this her
nunbauri tla:, tieett atment iu l'..alita llid for the
1 iaA two )ears, (oavicig returued but a day or
two ago) the result /6 A pl)):A.,:oz,ical pbeno-
Menon.
IS MIGHTY, AND WILL PREVAIL."
.‘About the end of the eighteenth century,
whenever any student of the Marischal College,
Aberdeen. Scotland, incur red the displeasure of
the-humbler-citizens, he was assailed with the
question. 'Who Murdered • Downie ?' Reply
and rejoinder generally brought on a collision
between 'Town and Gown.' although the young
gentlemen were accused of what was chronol
ogically impossible. People have a right to
be angry at being stigmatized as murderers,
when their accusers have probability on their
0 - de - T - buttlio - ltaking Downi - coectir red
when the gownsmen, so maligned, were in
swaddling-clothes.
•'But there was a time when to be branded
as an accomplice in the slaughter' of Richard
Downie, made his blood run to the cheek of
many a youth. and sent him home to his hooks,
thoughtful and subdued.
..Downie was sacrist or janitor at Marischal
College. One of his duties 'consisted in secu
ring te gate by a certain hour, previous to
which all the students had to assemble in th e
cominon hall,. where a Latin prayer. was de
livered by the principal. Whether in discharg
ing thin function; Downie was more rigid than
his predecessor in office, or-whether he became
stricter in the'perfw mance of it at one—time
' than another, cannot now be ascertained ; - but
there can be no doubt that he closed' the gate
with austere pUnctuality, and that those who
were not in the common hall within.a minute
of the prescribed time, were shut out, and were
afterwards reprimanded and' fined by the prin
cipal and professors., The students became
irritated at this strictness, and took every pet
ty means of annoying the sacrist ; he in his
turn, applied the screw at other points of aca
demic routine, and a fierce war soon began to
rage between the collegians and the humble:
functionary. Downie took care that in till his
proceedings he kept within the strict letter of
the law; but his opponents were not so care
ful, and the decisions of the rulers were
formly against them, and in favor 'of Downie.
Reprimands aiid fines having failed in produ
cing, due subordination, rustication, suspen
sion, and even the extreme sentence of expul- '
sion had to be put in force : and in the end,
law and order prevailed. But a secret-and
deadly grudge continued Le be entertained
against Downie. Various schemes of revenge
were thought of.
"Downie was, in common with the teachers
and the taught, enjoying the leisure of the
shjrt New Ye:IT'S vacation ; the pleasure being,
no doubt greatly enhanced by the annoyances
to which he had been subjected during the-re
cent bickerings ; when. as he was one evening
seated with his family in his official- residence
at the gate, a messenger informed him that a
gentleman at a neighboring -hotel wished to
speak with-aim. Downie obeyed the sum
mons, and. was . ushered from one room into
another, till at length he found himself in
large-apartment bung with black, and lighted
by a solitary candle. After waiting for some
time in Oda strange place, about fifty figures,
also dressed in black, dud with black fartsks on
their faces, presented themselves. They . ar
ranged themselves in the form of a court ; and
Downie- was 'given to understand that he was
about to be put on trial.
"A judge took his scat on the bench ; a clerk
and public prosecutor sat Wow ; a jury was
empanelled ; and witnesses and spectators
stood around. Downie at first set down the
whole affair as a joke : but the proceedings
were conducted with such persistent gravity.
that, in spite of himself, he hegaieto believe in
the genuine mission of the awful tribunal.
The clerk read- ,an indictment, charging hum
with conspiring against thefilierties of the stu
dents ; witnesses were examined in due form :
the public prosecutor addressed the jury ; and
the judge summed up.
'qkotlemen,' said Downie, 'the joke has
been carried far enough ; it is getting late, and
my wife and family will be anxious about me,
It 1 t • been I,
nave been too strict with you in trine past,
I am sorry for it ; and I assure you I wail take
more care in future.' '
'Gentlemen of the jury,' slid the judge,
without paying the rslightest attention to this
appeal, •consider your verdict ; if you wish to
retire, do so.'
‘.The jury -retired. During their absence
the most profound silence was observed ; and
except renewing the solitary candle &hat burnt
beside the judge, there was nut the slightest
movement.
."The jury returned and recorded a verdict,
of •Guilty !'
'.The judge solemnly assumed a, large black
cap, and addressed the prisoner :
." 'Richard Downie! The jury have unani
mously round you guilty of conspiring against
thepst liberty and inn' mities of the students
of 3 ariscAal College. You have wantonly pro
voked and insulted those inoffensive lieges for
so:ne months. and your punishment will as
suredly bw condign. You must prepare for
death ! In fifteen minutes the sentence of the
court will be carried into effect.'
'•The judge placed his watch on the bench.
A block, an axe, and a bag of saw-dust were
brought into the centre of the room. A figure
more terrible than any that bad yet appeared.
came forward. andprepared to a thepitrl-01 . _
doomster.
,• ft was now past midnight. There was no
sonnd audible save the ominous ticking of the
judge's watch. Downie beeatue more and
more alarmed.
" 'For God's sake !gentlemen,' said the ter
rified min, let me go home. I protnise that
you never again shall have canse fur complaint.'
" 'Richard a)wnie,' remarked the judge.
'you are vainly wasting the few moments that
are left you on earth. You hands
of those who demand your life. 10 human
power can save you. Attempt to utter one
'I:I - 3 :373U lire seized. and your floolu is complete
before you can utter another : - Every one here
present has r,worn a solemn oath never to re
veal the proceedings of this rii,tht ; they arc
known to mule but ourselves ; and when the
object flr w htch We have ;net i, rt eeom plish e d.
we shall disperse, unknown to any one. Pre
pare. then. for death : another nnuntes will
he al towed you —butt no more
--The-unfortunate--trnt-c - a , ohin - any - ndea - 4; -
' •
Iy terror, raVell and shrieked for mercy ; but
th avenger' !nit' no heed to hi Cries. /11%;
fevered. trent - hi - mg Tfs then moved a: if in al
ien( prayer ; for he (dh that the brief space tie
tween bun and et,dnity was but a fuw tuore
ticking,: of that ominnus - wateh.
exclikiaied the judge.
The Murder of Richard Downie.
A FRIGHT AS GOOD AS AN AXE
We are indebted to the Knickerbocker for the
roduction of the followin: true stor
.of the
ME=
4 Tour persons stepped forward and seized
Downie,. on whose features a cold. clammy
sweat had burst forth. They bared his neck,
and nride hiM kneel before the block.
•
Strike l' exclaimed the 'udge.
•,'m executioner stritc - t axe -on tto
floor an assistant on the opposite side. lifted
at the same moment a wet towel, and struck
it violently across the neck of the reCinnbent
criminal. A loud .hiugh announced that the
joke had at last conic to an end . .
“BuCbownie responded not to the uproai i
ous
"They laughed again but ,still he moved
. not. They lifted him, and Downie was, dead !
“Flight bad killed him as' etfectually as if
the axe of a real headsman had severed his
t was-a tragedy to all. The medical stu
dents tried to open a vein, but all was over ;
and the conspirators had now to bethink them
:lielves of safety. They- now in reality swore
an oath among themselves ; and the affrighted
young men, carrying their . disgaises with
left the body of Downie lying w the hotel.
'.One of their number told the landlord that
their entertainment *na not quite over, and
that they did not wish the individual who was
left in the room to be disturbed for,some :tours.
This was to give them nll time to esenpe.
„ Next morning the body was found. Judi
cial inquiry was instituted, but no satisfactory
result could be arrived at. The corpse of-poor
Downie exhibited no marks of violence-internal
or external'. The in-will between hint and
the students was known ; it was also known
that. the students had hired apartments in the
'hotel for a theatrical representation ; Downie
bad been sent tbr by them, but beyond this,
nothing %Val known. No noise had been heard.
and no proof of murder could be adduced. : Df
two hundred students of the College, who could
point out the guilty or suspected tilty3 More
over, the students scattered orei the city and
the magibtrates themselves had many of their
own (hinnies among the number, and tt was
not desirable to go into the affair too minutely.
"Downie's widow and family were provided
for, and his slaughter remained a mysterY:
until, about fifteen years atter its occurrence,
a gentleman on : his - death-bed disclosed the
whole particulars, and avowed himself tebave
belonged to the obnoxious clasS of students
who murdered 'Downie."
Bullying i Witness.
One likes always to see an inipndent lawyer,
whose forte is to banter _and bully witnesseho
brought up with a round turn by some victim
of his ill natured bearing. We heard a recent
instance the other day, which is worth relating,
A case was being tried on Long. Island, about
the Soundness 01 a horse, in Which a. clergy
man, not very conversant, in.suth matters. wag
a.witness. l.fu WAS a little confused in giving
his evidence. and a blustering fellow of a law
yer, who examined him, at last exclaimed:
-Pray, sir, do you know the difference between
a horse and a cow ?" "I acknowledge my, ig
norance,"..replied the clergyman ; hardly
know the difference between a horse and a cow,
or a Gaily and n bull, only that the bull -hag
horns, and a bully, (bowing in mock respect
to the pettifogger,) luckily for inerhas none !"
'You can retire, sir," said the lawyer, "rye
no further - questions to ask you.''-IV. Y.
Dutchman.
Tho Philadelphia Sun, which has a rare
eye for - - qiieer WIN, gives the following as• a
warnint; specimen of what a reporter once did
when July armei and equipped according to
law with a brick in his hat, a snake - in his
boot and a shut in his necit :
Yesterday morning _at '4 o'clock, P. a
small man named Junes, or Brown, or Smith,
with a heel in the hole of his trowsers commit.
',Ltd urseitie by swallowing a dose of suicide - .
The verdict of the inquest, returned a jury that,
the deceased came to the _facts in aecordunce
with his death. He leaves a child and six
small Wives to lament the end of his untimely
losn. In death we are in the midst, of life,
MR- SNIPES' LITANY. --Frain doctor's pills,
• " •
Prow want of gold'. and wives that scold,
and ►uaidens old, and sharpers "sold," deliver
us.
From stinging flies, and greenish eyes, and
baker's files, and baby's cries, a man that lies,
and cloudy skies, and love that dies, and fickle,
ties, and gaudy dyes, deliver us.
From bearded females, strong-minded wo
men (this don't jingle,) female lecturers and
all other masculine ladies, deliver us.
From creaking (lours, a w ife that suores, con
kiunded bores. deliver us.
Froth colic gripes, and Mrs. Snipes, deliver
US.
From modest girls, with waving curls and
teeth of pearls—oh, never mind.
fl• - "A curious point of law has just been de.
cided by a county court judge at Exeter, Eng
land.—The question was whether an inhabitant
of a town was at liberty to keep an:mais whose
noise proved a serious annoyance to their
neighbors. It was sworn on the part of a Alr.
Abrah.mt that his neighbor, .11r. Minty, had a
cock which crowed 150 times in 25 minutes.
The learned judge thought this vtras an amount
of crowing wineh human nature was not bound
to put up with, and awarded to the pla.intill Is.
damages.
SHOULD TRIOAT
sian poet gives the following instruction on
this important point : ••When thou art mar
ried seek to - please thy wife ; but listen not to
all that she says. 'ron► man's right side - c
rib was taken to form the woman, and never
was seen a rib (rite straight. It breaks but
bends not. Since then, it is plain that crooked
is a woman's temper, forgive her faults, and
blame her nut, nor let her anger thee, nor cor
rection use, as it Is vain to straighteu What is
ctookedl"
Covsciusx[ucs•--The South-.. Carolina Con
ference have resolved to sell their interest, as
individuals , in the stock of the South Carolina
It:till - oaf! Company. "lieCanse Lf4A Cump:u►y
would worli on the Sdhhatl► flay, a n d they du:
not Wish to partake ►u tualtiup money on t h e
fZ.7.".1.071)," said a man to his friend. “I
think it highly dinigerou , to keep the hills of
siii,lll banks on hand now-a-days." —'lll.lv,"
at -s' t te, Ot
than dangootts."
• TIIEYELLOW FEVER FeNn.-_1 correspo,vient.
or the I'eto-:,1,i,r,; Express says that tho
row ri bu Lions for yello..v fever 'sulftrers in
I. , :ortoik and Port4Lauuth have autoaated Lo
10,000.
laira more ukWault
TWO DOLLAP.i)
Marriage Notices.
.
Reader, if' you are married. or' hope to fia
married-6.n hope which is said to spring eter. • -
nal in the human breast—pray tell us, , if you
In.bew_weLltre_to-phrase-it-.—A re 'you. for.
i nstance , married to a 'lady : or are you married -
with a lady. or should we say that you and a
lady are married ? Such is the question - we
have been discussing with severalsof our learn.
eil master.% Of . the English langung,e through
the past -week. Some of them _bring a deal or
wisdom and sagacity to bear upon this mo. •
mentouti point, some deciding in one wtty,
while others. as peorl i e will, decide different.
ly. It is asserted
. that the words ..tuarried,tu
a fatly" are disrepectful to the lady,.and there. .
fore - _it 'is Inure - proper to say • •tand"---John'
Smith and Sarah Caudle, thus placing thepat
ties on a more, equal footing. 'The authorities
are, "no doubt.'ell in favor of the 'old" phrase.
ology. Milton , has it ..married to inuntrrtat
verse," and Shakspeare speaks of being •nnar.
ried to a \vile.", But you . know that precedent
and authority ire nothing ag.linSt reirolutionnty
innovation, which attacks grammars -and Yu
calutlaries as relentlessly es t hatters down ,
thrones and upsets euriPireS. Will yOu then
4-tnarrieci: to." or 'quarried with - ," or .wniar..
ried and ?" There - is, however, another Way,
whirls may "reconcile these ,difficulties. .Ilow :
if it were worded as follows : . -• •
"Jfarricl tozelhcr, by Rev. Mr. PuutiateZ4
John Striith 80-Sarah Caudle." • • '
" The ..disrepeet" ir3 hereby di videdt'ind et.,
cept as regards the precedence or ..n [ uit, a wr , t,,
feet, eknulity of announcement iK attained.'
You that are single, marry, and tvi say trtitb`'
Lady bliabeth—=.
upon the order . yo ring( . ;
But go atuuee," and marry to a lady:
• —=.lfrid:g•ettun
A Jog.ic i,r SPIV , : OF 1119 TEIKTR, —Some - peep'
ple rimy Imagine that the knreitsicin
with the toothache" • is- a mere phrase
the following.joke made by en individual wherk,.;
Suffering under acute pain in one of his-utebirs4 c ,
affords proof of the existence of what.may be*
called dental' insanity: While rolling in ago►
ny from one side 'of the hod to the other; .144
Unreasonable questiou,being asked himself
.the inicAlle of the night, ", What, property iY A ,
man likely, to come into. if all his lower teeth
!Mould beCome affected ?" The. reply Wiis'iou=
mad as' the question, ' , About at dezen
in Rotten Row," Sorely this matt's friend*,,
had" better take out his teeth. or. take out
commission of
=Old Tiiek4 wnR 11TO1V1 -
ttu could be heard furtherthan bbieltionitlea.
forge ; but his- wife. became' so' accustomed to
it.that it soothed her (,), repo!. They .rere
very domestic! couple ! --trv,ey, slept,,spart,fur_
many years. At length' the old coin wait:re
quired to attend court at . stutio• ilisuitite:' • • The
tlrst night after. his departure his' , Avife,lnever
slept a wini‘,..; she missed, the ; smtring,4 Vito
second night passed away, in, thksainemanner
witliout.sleep. • She thus' getting' into •ti
bad way, and probably Would -hare died; had"'
it, not been for the ingenuity of the !servant.
'She lank to,grinding elffeein ; her stistreneseitase.-
64r, and the vase put herlu steep ut.unee
KILLING HOGS IN °LAWNT:I4Z —The Romanw
were notoriously fund of pork. So t hey, stuttied ,
every 'artistic tnethod to improve tts flavor, and,
add to its delicacy'. A living Ing WaS, taken:
made to swallow vinegarce great varietrof'
herbs. all,boiled together, and then huntedlato.
ly whipped to death. and
_then r - dosted forth.,
with. The Norrrians' had a still inure barbarous
way of killing piggy, in order to render hiS
fleshrtnore . palatable., mode of killing
wus peculiarly savage. They thrust a red hot
spit through the body of
,the pig and sytfored,
it to dio with Out . bleeding. Even if by this'
method the flesh • was'nvide - teitsieri the retert;':
tion of the blood- changed its . :color.
posed it to a more speedt putrefaction. •f;
IT - 7U is said that Roht. Owen. well knrsvri
for many years as one 9f the staunchest_ intl•'
dell of the day. and aleader . among theft'', has
f+eetr-eo►+verted—to---Spirit+ialimn;ti
though, tit) years of age. quite active ia London
in issuing pamphlets upon that' subject, eounw.
teraeting the efforts which he gave to the cause.
of infidelity ftir lialf a century. - •
.talking.match lately "came off" _at
New Orleans foi five, tliAlars a side. It contin
ued, according 'to the Advertise 4 - for, thirte en hours, the rivals being a Frenchman and Ken
tuckian. The bystanders and judges were
tallied to sleep, and when they waked op in
the morning they. found the. Frenchman dead.
and the Kentuckian whispering'in his
a:7'The - Providence Postman says that
"kissing in the abstract" tneans kissing a pret
ty girl, all alone by one's self. We do not
know anything about • - kisser; in the ab
stract." but we can testify that kissing a pret
ty girl in the entry, just before bidding her
"good night," is no very unplea:sant operation:
SIIMIP.—A certain newspaper in Cleveland
having advertised that they would .4end a copy
of their piper gratis for one year. to a person
who would send them a club of ten. received
the lets yid of ciubo from a young lady in the
count! .
EDITORIAL CASUISTRYA Pe:Ml.4ylvanitt
itor says, f•Soi►lebody brought one bottle of
soured water into - ota office, with the request
to notice it us Lemon Beer. If E.%;au was greea
enough to dell his birthright for a mess or pot.
tage, it does not prove that we will tell a 4
Willing lie, for ME CENTS."
t r-7A queer gatherer of statistics says that
of 158 pretty woman whom he met in the
streets of a fashionable resort in a given time.
100 iver6 bliCklUg their parasol handles.
rQA good book and a good woman are ex
cellent toings for those - who know how juLitly
to appreciate—their-value: There- -are- anep - ,
however, who judge boat Crum the beauty or
thdr conversation.
k emphatically the poor man's
para(ll,,e. The rich. with their many resouree.
too often lire a way from the hearth-a:use, is
heart if not as Enron.
PENNSVIX k NIA FISASOKS.—Tho receipts or
the PvtubylNAn___State_lx.ew,ury—dating—Ltie__
year end ink; on Ole Ist of December, mere 85.-
aud the expendaures 65,385.705,-
52.
aalt is said' there arr more lies told in
brief sentence, "1 am glad to see you." than 411
any other DinolB beauxce la the Eagliah Jittr
gunge.
NO• la