BY HENRY J. STAHLE.
3S" YEAR.
Terms of the "Compiler."
gar The Repuyiran Cni.uipiler is,published
every Monday morning, by Ilisity J. &AIME,
at $1,75 per annum if paid in adrance—s2,oo
.per annum if not paid in advance. No sub
t•cription disc' ontinued, unless at the option of
the publisher, until all arrearages are paid.
AdvertiSements inserted at the usual
rates. Job Printing . done, neatly, cheaply,
and with dispatch.
Aar - Office in South Baltimore street, direct
ly opposite Wampler's Tinning Establishment,
one and a half squares from the Court-house,
"Comettsit" on the sign.
eiiciee,
A New Song by - George P. Morris.
Thank God for pleasant weather !
Chant it, merry rills!
And clap your hands-together,
Ye exulting hills
Thank Ulm, teeming valley
Thank Slim, fruitful plain !
For the golden sunshine,
And the silver rain.
Thank God of Good The Giver !
shout it, sportive breeze !
Respond. oh tuneful river!
To the nodding trees.
Thank Him, birds and birdling !
As ye grow and sing!
Dlingle in thanksgiving
I:very living thing !_
Thank God, with cheerful spirit,
Inn glow of lore.,
Fur what we here inherit,
And our hopes above !
Unicersal :Nature • • -
Revels in her birth,
When God, in pleabant weather,
Smiles upon the earth !
e 4 pitt l i
THE WIDOW'S BEAU.
Services had commenced in the neat, little
sanctuary, which the inhabitants' of Harlem
had consecrated to the service of God. The
minister had read the psalms and scripture
lessons, and had repeated the first line of,the
opening hymn. The eyes of the people were
fixed intently upon him, for he was not only a
sound and eloquent preacher, but he was a tine
hinting one, too, and thus enchained not only
the attention of the true, but the false worship
pers. The house was very- still—the clear,
n►elaneholy tones - of the preacher were the on
ly sounds that throbbed on the balmy golden
air, which" the midsummer's Sabbath morn
had breathed into that holy place.
The first syllable of the second line was
trembling op his lips, when a rustle at the
• door, and the entrance of two persons, a lady,
and a gentleman, dissolved the charm. In
_a_Secoud_ exery eye turned. front the_pulpitto
the broad aisfe, and watched with more than
ordinary interest, the progress of the couple.
A must searching ordeal were they subjected
to, and when fairly and-quietly seated in the
first pew, immediately in front of the .pulpit,
- what a nudging of elbows there was—ay, and
how many- whispers, too.
In vain the sound, the good, the eloquent,
the handsome Mr. B. sought again to steal
the attention of his hearers. They had no
ryes, no thoughts for 'anybody else bat widoW
C. and widow C.'s young, gentlemanly atten=
dant.
Iton- she had cheated them. Hadn't she
said she didn't feel as though she could ever
wear anything but mourning ? And in spite
of these protestations, hadn't she come out
all atone% dressed in,white, and walked into
the churelil - n broad daylight, leaning on the
aria 4 - f a young gentleman.
Yes, indeed She had. She would have plead
cruiltT to all these eharTes, ' , rave ones as they
were, and to the last two how many witnesses
had beea suplened! She was actually dress-1
ed in white, with open corsage,- displaying at
elaborately Avn.ught ehimtrite, (Irapery-sleeves
trimmed with the richest Mechlin lace; under
sleeves of the same expensive material, with'
a white lace hat with orange-buds and flowers,
with kid glores and light gaiters—such was
the description every lady had on her tongue's
end, to repeat over as soon as the service was
And the gentleman—he , was dressed in
RtVle—didn't he wear white pants of the latest
'pattern, and a white vest, and a coat of "satin
finish," and white kids, too and didn't he
!sport a massive ehain.,and didn't lie gaze often
and lovingly on the fair features beside him?
Ah, yei, he did so, and there was no fur
ther room to doubt. Widow' C: had cheated
them. She had won a beau, laid aside her
fnourning. put on a bridal attire and was go
ing to be married in church. But who the
beau was, and from whence he came, it was
difficult to solve.
Serricei proceeded. The choir sung and
the minister prayed and preached—the people
mdered when the ceremony would. take
place.
But to their utter astonishment, they were
left to wonder: A •
For when the benediction was pronounced,
widow C. and the strange gentleman walked
with the rest of the congregation quietly out
Of the church. When they reached the pave
ment, he offered her his arm very gracefully,
and she placed her hand very confidentially
on the beautiful coat sleeve, as they passed on.
What a mlrning that was in Harlem:—
What a world of conjectures, surmises, in
quiries and doubts rolled over and over in the
brains of not only gossipping ladies, but sober,
natter -of-fact gentlemen. The like of such a
thing
,had never occurred in the annals of the
village , --there was something new under the
sun—a hilly had a beau, and nobody knew it.
Widow C., didn't your ears burn that day?
And we wonder they didn't drop off; surely
they must have been crisp and crimson.
The Rev. Mr. B. preached to a crowded
house that afternoon ;- no compliment to him,
though. Every one was sure the wedding
would take place then, but everybody was
sadly disappointed: and if. tongues had run
at railroad speed before, they travelled then
on eh.Ctrio wire The min'ster might,
preached in Grek that - day. and the sermons
would have been quite as edifying. But one
suliject occupied the village mind—the widow's
beau.
It actually seemed, too, Is though the lady
EQS . l)4_l(etwp4pei . --_-bebofeb jr.ifec-4110-e, R9iiiettiftilre, 1..0e41 Aqb eleryik-41 bifelligeqee, abei•iisL79, Sce:
tried to make all the talk she could. After
tea, arm in arm with the strange gentleman,
walked the whole length• of the village,
and away out. into the country, and never re
turned till the moon was high. •
"A nice looking dress I guess she had,"
drawled out grandma, W. as she listened to the
story of the handsome widow's wanderings.
"I'm ;lid I hain't . got to wash it, all drabbled
up with.dew, as must have been ; but I
don't 'spose she thoughtnr cared a word about
it, she's so carried away With him. But I'll
give hers, piece of my mind the first time I
have a-elance see if don't."
Bet thi good old dame began to fear She
would wirer have the desired chance. .
'She hurried through her washing on 'Mon
day, and hobbled over to the widow's as soon
-as possiblY, bailie-door-was locked, and one
of the neighbors said Mrs. C. and a gentle
man - went -- off in a carriage, noliodv — knew
where, very early in the morning , —"Yes, and.
never gotlanne until nine o'clock in the even
ing." Look out, widow I your character is on
the carpet.
If she knew it, apparently she didn't care,
for the next day she went a sailing with her
bean, and the next day rambled with him off
to the woodlawn, and the next forenoon went
with him_in . acarriage to the railroad station:
and there not only wept as she parted from
him. but actually embraced and kissed him!
"What ! in broad ,daylight !" exclaimed
grandma %V. "Well, if I ever heard or seen
the like on't."
Little Nell, the old lady's youngest grand
child, wondered to herself if it was any wOrse
in broad daylight than at other times. Per
haps you will wonder, too. We did at least.
There was a large attendance that: after
noon at the weekly meeting of the village sew
ing society. Everybody went that could 'pos
sibly leave home. And what a clattering
there. was When the bustle of assembling
was over. There was but one topic, but that
was all-engrossing—the widow's beau—for
the gentleman :mud he her beau—or at least
ought to be.
- Everybody had something to tell, something
to wonder at. But - suddenly every magic
tongue was hushed ; an universal stroke of
palsy seemed to have fallen on the group as,
looking up, they perceived the very lady about
whom they were conversing so eagerly, stand
ing in the doorway.
"Good afternoon, ladies," said she In her
usual quiet way; -"I am glad to see so large
and happy a gathering. It is a beautiful day
for our meeting."
And then she proceeded to the table and
helped herself to a block of patchwork, in
quiring for the sewing silk, which having re
ceived, she sat down in the only vacant chair,
and commenced hemming at red bird with a
yellow wing on a very green twig, which lat
ter had already been hemmed on to a -square
piece of white cloth, and the whole, when
completed, was designed to form the twentieth
part of a bed spread. She seemed all engross
ed with the bird's bill, and spoke to no one.
Everybody wondered if she had heard what
they were _saying - Avhem_she_canm in ; buther
placid countenance soon reassured the most
fearful, and every one longed to conunenec
personal attack.
Old grandmother W. was the first to ven
ture. She meant to do up the matter very
delicately, and in so round about a way that
the lady would not suspet-t her of curiosity.
So she began by praising Mrs. C.'s dress.
"Why, it's really a beauty. Where did
you get it ?"
"I bought
"lime ?"
"Where then ?"
"In the city, last spring."
"Oh, you did, did you ? But I thought you
was never going to dress in anything but
black amain ?",
All serutinized the lady's face in 'search of
a blush, but. it continued as usual, while she
answered—
"I did think and say so one,butalaK-.
finally altered my mind."
"You have, eh! What mule you?"
"Oh, I had good reasons."
Here the hearers and lookers-on winked
and looked very expressive at each other.
"But did'younot spoil your beautiful white
dress tire:other night, wearing it divuy up. to
the burying ground?"
"I (lid not wear it.;'
Here was a damper for the °Mindy, She
had such a long lecture to read on, extrava
gance,and she determined to do it, too, when
unfortunately for her eloquent strain, Mrs. C.'s
dress hung up in her wardrobe ail the time,
and she had worn an old black silk, 'd
After a while the old lady took a fresh
start. She would not be baulked again. She
would find out all about that beau before she
went home, "that she would." She begin by
saying—
" Your company went away this morning,
didn't he?"
"lie did."
"He did not stay very long, did he ?"
"Not so long as I wished him to stay," was
the reply.
And how the ladies did look at each other.
was as good as a confession.
"When did he come ?"
"Saturday evening."
"Were you looking for him ?"
"I bad been expecting him for a fortnight
or more."
"Why, du tell if you had - then, and you
never told on't either. liad he any 'business
in the plaee?"
"Ile had."
"What wa.s it ?"
This was rather more direct and blunt than
the Old lady had meant to Put, and 8 lie forth
with allobygised.
But.the widow-interrupted her by Fnyin
"0, I'd as lief you'd know as not; he came
toßee me."
0, widow C., your good name did g 6 down
then, Be careful what you say next, or you'll
hale only a remnant of character left to go
home with, and remnants go very cheap.
Ile did, did . 1?'?, and he didn't come for
nothi n g else, then. But was 'you glad to see
himr
"Indeed I was. It wag one of the happiest
mennents of my existence."
"Nell, well," said the old lady, hardly
knowin 7 how .to frame the next (nos •(
• well, w - ell, he is a very good-looking man,
any way."
"I think so, too, and he's not only good
looking, hut he'R good-hearted---tine of the
best men I ever knew."
GETTYSBTJRG, PENNSYLVANIA : MONDAY, MAY 5, 1856.
"You don't say so ! But is he rich ?" •
"Worth a hundred thousand or so," said
the lady earnestly.
"Why. du tell if be is. Why, you
live like a lady, won't you? But what is him
name?"
The old cariosity - was now raised to
a high pitch.
"Henry Macon." '
"Macon! Macon! why, wasn't that your
name before you were married ?"
"It was."
"Men le's a connection, is he?"
"He is."
"Du tell who lie is then. Not a cousin, I
hope. I never did think much of a marriage
between cousins."
"Ile is not my cousin."
:"Ife - isn't? Not vour cousin ?• But what
connection is he? tell now?"
"He is.►►►►/ younge.vt. brylher !"
If ever there was a rapid progress made in
sewing and knitting by any circle of ladies, it
was by those composing this society, for the
ext fifteen minutes. Nut a word was utter
el, nor an eye raised. Had the latter been
- done, and the roguish and expressive glances
seen which 'passed between Mrs. C. and the
minister, who, unobserved, had stood on the
threshold as a silent spectator and - a
.curious
hearer, perhaps—mind yhu,.we only say per
hapB—:.they might have guessed more correct.
ly the imme,charncter, standing and profession
of the widow's beau.
. Remarkable Dream in a 21farder
31r. Stirling was recently murdered at Burnop
field, in Scotland, under mysterious circum
stances. his parents resided near Dunbarton,
on the Clyde. On the night of the Ist of No
vember, the day on which the murder was
committed, Mrs. Stirling had a remarkable,
and what she termed fearful dream. She
dreamt that sonic persons were about the
house intending to break into it. In a short'
time a man with dark cemplexion and dark
d .ess, lookedin upon her at the window, pre
sented a pn, and discharged it at her. At
this juncture; she awoke in great alarm and
trepidation ; and since then, the dream—most
strongly impressed upon her mind, by , the
fact of her sun's murder, intelligence of which
would not reach her until ti or 7 days later than
the dream--has ever been vivid in her recol
lection. ,Mrs. Stirling accompanied her hus
band to Durham, for the purpose of being pre
sent at the trial. She expressed a great desire
to see the two men, accused of the murder ;
and, fur that purpose,* visited the prison on
Wednesday. Several men were walking in
the yard at the time, including Cain, Rayne,
a turnkey, and three or four, others. Imme
diately on perceiving Rayne, without being
told the names of the men, she recognized in
him the features of the man whom she saw in
her dream fire through the window at her,
pointed him out and burst into tears. Mrs.
- Stirling still esiiressesher positive conviction
with respect to Rayne - . The circumstances
We have mentioned may 'appear strange, but
are perfectly correct.
A Tiek/ish Exprriment.—A . curious event
oceurred'a few days ago .in the University of
Leipsic: Dr. Reciam, professor of legal med
ici_nes, was lecturing on nicotine, and to show
the deadly effect of poison, he adminis
tered a large doseMt to a big dog.. The an
imal. which was lying on its back, was imme
diately seized wit t y convulsions, and ejected a
eonsiaeraldc portion orthe poison with great
violence; it struck the professor in the face,
aMi some of it entered his mouth. The doc
tor was immediately seized with all the symp
toms of poi - soning, but antidotes Were prompt
lv dire - w a - s - rs'!oo ohm tof dan
ger ; but he suffered greatly and had to be con
veyed home.—Lorithin
lii-ne—ktrontlutsias tie re-ronautrirn
noses to the people of California to run a line
of balloons betwqn San -.Francisco and St.
Louis. to depend upon the great easterly cur
rent of the upper and return trades liar its pro
pulsion. Ile says: "thirty miles an hour with
out delay front station or brook of gua;2:e—no
fear ofcollision, and no possibility of running
olf.the track—will bring a balloon in three days
front the shores of the SZT:l9ll , llth to the fitot
of the Alleghenies, owl land her freight and
passengers fresh, healthy, and almost at the
very threshold of their homes."
ra-At a Printer's Festival at Boston a short
time since the following capital toast was
drank: The Edifi».:—'file man who is expect
ed to know everything, toll all he knows, and
guess at the rest : to make oath to his own
good character, establish the reputation of his
neighbors, and elect all candidates to (ace ;
to blow every bid::: suit'evefyltody, and r e f o rm
the world to live for the benefit of others, and
have the epitaph on his tombstone, "Here he
lies his last :" in short, he is a locomotive Tuli
n ingon the track of pu bile notoriety his lever
is, his pen; his boiler is filled- with ink, his
tender is his scissors, and driving wheel is pub
lic opinion ; whenever he explodes it is caused
by non-payment of subscriptions.
4 .. . e 'Franklin was an observing and gensi
hie man and, his conclusions were seldom in
correct. lie said that a newspaper and Bible
in every house and a good schoo in every dis
trict—all studied and appreciate( ; ,a,c merited—
are the principal supporters of virtue, morality
and civil liberty. -
Salt
. for Wheal.—Theodare Perry says, in
the Prairie Farnicr, that he sowed one and a
half bushels of salt per acre, upon one half of
men acre field, just after seeding it with Spring
wheat, and the result was, that the salted por
tion was ready for the sickel five days - earlier
than the unsalted portion, and not a particle
of rust, scab or smut could be found, and the
increase of crop he estimated at five bushels
per acre,
xe'Daniel Webster once said that "the sin
of America was the sin of suretyship." There
is written in mournful letters in the history of
every man, the record of suffering by endorse
ments. It would make the most extraordina-
in this feature of business were, written.
:ErWhich can "smell a rat" the quickest
—the man who knows the most, or he who has
the most nose?
"TRUTH IS MICUTY, AND WILL PREVAIL."
seicel i)jiecillkoi,
low to Dispose of Old Stock.
A pedlar of tin ware, who had been
travelling from plantation to plantation with
his cargo of "notions," found but a limited
sale for his lanterns; an article of which ho
had a very large stock. In despair of not get
ting rid of them, he offered them at what ho
called "a, very reduced price,"
i yet he found
purchasers as scarce as clover in sand hills.
At length, a tavern-keeper directed him to a
farmer, who, he said, - was very much in want
of the article. To the house otthis ready ens
tomer went Jonathan, determined to get his
trouble's worth out of him. The first person
he met was the overseer, who was lounging - by
the side of the road.
"You don't want to buy a lantern, do ye ?"
asked Jonathan.
"Yes, though, I reckon I do," returned the
overseer, "him much. uxought you - ask for
one?"
"Only 37+ cents."
"Well, suppose you gin me one."
The pedlar accordingly gave him a lantern,
and receiving his money, proceeded onwards.
"You don't want to buy a first rate lantern,
do ye ?" said he to the overseer's wife, who
was washing in the spring.
"Yes," was the reply, "Mr. B. has been
wanting one this long while."
Jonathan accordingly served out one at the
same price he had bargained with her hus
band for. At the tarn, before he re►iched' the
farm house, be met the son of the planter—
" You don't want to buy no lanterns, do
you?"
"I don't want one myself,
,but I'll take one
for father, who has been after one this long
while."
Jonathan accordingly pocketed another thir
ty-seven and a half cents, and beeaufe_one lan
tern lighter.
- llc UONV advanced boldly up 'to the house,
and meeting the old lady at the door, immedi
ately put the question to hol.---‘.You . don't
want to buy some first rate lanterns, do you?"
"Indeed; but- 1 do," said the old Indy, "my
husband has been wanting one these six month's
past—and I tun glad you hanconte."
Jonathan accordingly deposited a lantern
with her, and received- in return another thir
ty-seven and a half rents.
lie now departed, almost satisfied with the
spec'he hind made. At r.osne distance from the
house, in a field by the side of the road; he es
pied the old gentleman himself, and hailed him
with the old question :
"You don't want to buy a first rate lantern,
do von?" -
‘";How much do you ask a piece," inquired
the planter.
''Fifty con tr 4, and !guess that's cheap enough,
con siderin' they've come all the way from Con
necticut." ,
Well, I'll take one," said the old gentle
man.
"Hadn't you better take a half a dozen?"
asked Jonathan, "there's no knowing when a
fin merchant 11111 V pass this way again. If
you will take a half a dozen, I will let you have
them-for-A i r ty-HP MI- 811 a -hilic-rents Tr-pierm" -
The planter took him at his word—and the
pedlar took to his route, after having disposed
of ten lanterns where only one was really re
quired.
ar.Neatness may be *carried to excess.
Mr.. Slasher is devoted to whitewash, On tak
ing a house in the country,. he whitewashed
the trunks of all the treem, affirming that it
gave them 'a niver appearance. lie was next
proceeding to improve. the hollyhocks in the
same style; when Mrs. S. .dragolsl him away
by the coat tail, &Oaring that she had borne a
good deal, but she couldn't stand that.
ter'A. lady made a complaint to 'Frederick
the Great, King of Prussia. "Your Majesty,"
said she, `•my husband treats
"That's none• of my business," replied the
King. "But he speak+--•ill of you," said the
holy, "That," he replied, "is 'none of your
•
business."
semCol. Bodens, who was very fat..beitig
accosted by a man to whom he owed money,
with "how d've do?" answered—
• "Pretty well, 'I thank you ; you find I hold
my own."
"Yes, sir,"...rejoined the man, "and mine
too, to my sorrow,''
rdrA gentleman was promenading one of
our fashicinable streets with a bright little boy
at his side, when the little fellow• called out:—
"0, pa, - there goes an editor!"
"Hush, son," said the father, "dim't make
Sport of the poor man ; God only knows what
you may come to yet!"
10F,15".." Why, my dear sir," said a dandy re
provingly to his boot maker, "you have made
my boots large enough at the toes to bold a
bushel of grain."
"I thought," replied Snob, cooly, "that
corns were grain."
t...e"An editor out West the other day exhib
ited an astonishing absent mindedness by copy
ing. from an exchange paper (me of his own
articles, and heading it "Wretched attempt at
wit."
rtei"lf we dill but know how little some en
joy the great things they possess; there could
not be much envy in the world.
MrWe should not isolate ourselves, for we
cannot remain in a state of isolation. social
intercourse makes us the more able to hear
with ourselves and others.
DEa'qntegrity is the first moral virtue, benev
olence the second, end prudence the third;
without the first the two latter cannot exist,
and without the latter the two former would be
often useless.
'Punch says that editors are very apt to
have their manners spoiled, because they re
ceive such vast numbers of evil communica-
tions
:Er At Funchal, Madeira, it is the fashion
to wear white boots instead of black ones. A
lump of chalk 'serves in the place of the black
ing box aw,Lchrush.
--
4417 yOU must -cep a ter you
given it to another ?—YoUr word.
The happiness of every one depend
mnreThn big own mind, than upon any or all
external circumetances.
The Three Jolly Husbands.
Three jolly husbands, out in the country',
by the names of Tim Watson, Joe Brown, and
Bill Walker, sat one evening drinking at the
village tavern; -until being pretty well corned,
they agreed that each one on returning home,
should do the first thing that his wife told
him, in default of which he should the next
morning pay the bill: They then separated
for the night, engaging to meet again the next
morning, and give an honest account of their
proceedings at home,-so far as they related to
the bill. The next morning, Walker and
Brown were early at their posts, but it was
some time before Watson made his appearanee:
Walker began first:
"You see, when I entered my house the
candle was out, and the fire giving but a
glimmering of light, I came near walking into
a pot of hatter that the pancakes wore to• be
made of in the morning. My wife, who was
dreadfully out of humor, said tome sarcasti
cally 'lllB, do put your foot in the batter!'
.
'Just as you Say, Maggy,' said I, and without
the least hesitation, I put my foot in the pot of
batter, and then went to bed."
Next Joe Brown told his story: "My wife
had already retired in our usual sleeping room
which adjoins the kitchen, the door of which
was ajar ; not being able to navigate thorough-,
you know, I made a dreadful clattering
among the household furniture, and my wife,
in no very pleasant- tone, bawled out: 'Do
Greek the puddiny pot !' No sooner said than
done; I seized hold of the pot, and striking it
against the chimney jamb, broke it in a bun
dred pieces: After this exploit, retired to
rest; and got a curtain lecture all night for my
pains." •
It was now Tim Watson's turn . to give an
account of himself, which he did with a very
long face, as follows : "My wifirgave me the
most unlucky command in the world ; for I
was blundering up stairs in. the dark, when
she cried out: 'Do break your 'heck, do,
Tim t"l'il be curseitif I do, Kate,' said I,
as I . gathered myself up, sooner pay the
And so, landlord, here's the cash for
you and this is the last time I'll ever risk five
dollars on the cominaud of my wife."—Na
tional Intelllyeneer.
CrocketVs
The Washington correspondent of the Cin
cinnati Times, in a recent article, thus refers
to Crockett's rifle, which did such gallant ex=
ecution itt the bloody massacre of the Alamo,
in the Texan war for Independence :
Calling* into the Patent Office a fifw
tnents to-dad, I saw a very interesting relic
in the shape of a rifle, which was presented
by the young men of Philadelphia: to Col;
David Crockett, in 1835, just before that gal
lant soldier engaged in the Texan war of In;
dependence. Col. Crockett used this weapon
through his campaign, and for the last time at
the bloody massacre of the AlamQ, where he
fought his last fight.
It is a very fine weapon, though somewhat
marred by usage. On-one side of the handle
- 1 - K1 the word - "Crt etf," atfdllfe other-hidcele
brated motto, "Go Ahead !" The rifle and the
identical tomahawk carried by Crockett were
presented .to the National Institute by 'Capt.
Ben. McCullough,-of the old Texan Rangers,
and will be carefully preseived'.as.mementoes
of that generous and chivalric gum, whose
daring deeds have rendered his" °name almost
immortal. "Always be sure you're 'right,
then go ahead !" is a sentence never to be for
gotten!
The Orergyery,of Assuranee.—Seventy-four
miles of - telegraph wire cable which was to
have been laid between Nova Scotia and New
foundland, in August last, was insured
England for $75,000. While engagedin lay
ing it, one of the steamers was obliged to cut
i t_duri ng-a -fu riou s-gale,----to- save the vessel
and their lives. Forty-four miles of the wire
were thus lost. An officer of the telegraph
company recently applied in London for the
insuran ce,-and-was-metr-by-the-sin rep . ly-:
"There is no loss,
as the wire cable is - Ast
where you wanted to put it,--at the bottom of
the sea." On this quibble they actually re
fused to pay. Of course the cable Cannot be
raised, being sunk to the depth of 1200 feet,
and embedded in sand.
!per The Boston Times tells of a member of
the Massachusetts Senate who, while re
turning to his home in the cars, was asked
by a fruit laid to buy some oranges. He
bought three or four, and gave the boy a five
dollar bill. The, youngster "stepped out" to
get the bill changed, leaving his basket of
fruit with the Senator; but the young huck
ster forgot to return. The cars moved on, but
the Senator was determined riot to be a suf
ferer, so he hawked the oranges through the
train, and realized five dollars and forty cents
by the sales. He made forty cents besides
eating his full of the delicious fruit.
Aftsyrian Discovery.—lt is stated that Col.
Rawlison, who is at present engaged in pros
ecuting the discoveries commenced by Layard
and Botts, and in exhuming from the mounds
of the long; lost rival cities, of Nineveh and
Babylon the instructive - remains of this once
gigantic power, has lately discovered, in a
state of perfect preservation, what is believed
to be the mummy of Nebuchadnezzer. The
face of the rebellious monarch of Babylon, cov
ered by one of those gold masks usually found
in Assyrian tombs, is described as very hand
some—the forehead high and commanding, the
features marked and regular. This interest
ing relic of remote antiquity is 'for the present
preserved in the Museum of the East India
Company.—N. Y. Journal of Commerce.
itkir Tobacco packed in lead-is - poisonous, as
the moisture contained in the tobacco_mill
oxydize the lead with which it long in
contact, forming a peculiar poisonous 'salt.
The tobacco becomes covered with a lay©r of
acetate, carbonate, chloride, and sulphate of
lead, amounting to frowsix to thirty grains in
a half pound.
ree•A man who had a cause in court said,
"that if he lost in the Common Pleas, he would
appeal to the Supreme Court, and from thence
to Heaven." "And there," replied a gen
tleman, "you will he sure to lose, for you will
not he resent to answer for yourself, and nu
are attorney is ever a• nutte
}.The best cure fur trouble is labor—
the hurler you work the legs you think. IVho
ever heard of ft wood sawyer committing
suicide ?
strlt is the distinguishing characteristic of
merit, to be ever active in laudable pursuits.
air There is a meaning in all, things. Even
virtue itself hath its limit, beyond which it
ceases to be a virtue.
serwNo vengeance is more heroic, than that
which torments envy by doing good. ~
ser . .if men wish to be held in esteem, they
must associate with those only who are esti
mable.
If you would have a thing kept secret,
never tell itlo any one ; andif ;on would not
have a thing known of you, never do it.
air The happiest man in , the world is the
man withjust :wealth enough to keep him ,in
spirits and just children enough to make him
industrious.
p,When you get into a fit of passion lust
walk out into the air ; you may speak: `your
mind to the 'winds withoithurting any one or
proclaiming, yourself a simpleton.
Ser"The proper study of mankind is man,"
says Pope—but the popular study is , how to
make money out of man. That's sot •
. ,
*rile sum of all ,is to serve God
well and do,no ill thing. • -
iiirThe Yankee has been styled
developed interrogation point.'
Writ is wiser to prevent avorrel before ,
baud, than to revengeit a ft erwards. ,
• .
Mar The 'story is faMiliar ofthe man' 'who
took -passage in a flat boat from Pittabtatto
New Orleans. • Ile passed many dreary, list
less days on his way down the, Obionntl * 9 -
sissippt, and seemed to' be de,sPotitfing,ibrivant,
of excitement'. Superileially,lititras gebd
via
tured and kindly disposed. • In the ii.ioutve of
-time the-craft, uport-whichle-was-npatettmtter
put into Napoleon, in the State of Arkansas,
for groceries. _At the moment, there!, wati;zi
general tight extending all along,the fruntef , ,
the town, which at that time consisted - qa
gle house.
The unhappy passenger, iftertidgetingsbent
and jerking his feet Upend down as if he Were
walking on hot bricks, turned . to a used up .
spectator and observed :
"Stranger, is this a free fight V° •
The reply was prompt and to the pe,int.
"It ar, and if yowl wish to go in, don't stand
on ceremony." • - -
The wayfarer did go in, and in less time than
we can relate,the circumstances, he was liter
ally chewed np. 'Groping his way dtiwti to
the boat, his hair gone, his eyes elosedihis lips
_swollenandhis facagenerally-ntpiwod nat;ho6--
sat down on a chicken coop and solilnquikett
thus:
1E32
Tll7O DOLLARS A-YEAR.
SANDS OF GOLD.
Arlatociary.
One of the parvenue ladies of Cincinnati,
who would be wonderfully aristocratic in all.
her domestic concerns, was . visiting a fete daysdays
since at the house of Major G--, (all know
the old Major,) when, after tea, the following
conversation occurred between the Major's old
fashioned lady and the ."top-knot,"in copse
queue° of the hired girl occupying a, seat at
the tea-table : ,
"Why, Mrs. Cr., you do not allow your hired
girl to eat with you'at the table? . ' It's horri
ble !" •
"Most certainly I do. You know this , bas
over been my custom. It was so ivlion yin!
worked for me—don't, you, recollect ?"
This was a "eooler" to Silk and satin'great
ness—or,
gfeat
ness—or, as the boys call it, "codfish aristoo:
racy." After coloring 'end stammering, she
answered in a very loyyeice, "Y-e -s„ 1
i-t w-a-s,"
What a withering rebitke I 'And . - how ad
miral4y it appli es to much Of our strattingar- ,
istorrlus : When will the world :,learn that ,
poverty is not the evidence of ineannese and
degradation, nor silks and satins the stire.evi--
denim of a true and noble hearted worn=
"So; :this is Na-po-leon, is it'?--VpOn my
word it's a_livelrpluce,_and_the only-one-ht
which I have had Any fun since I Taft home."
Considenry.—The quincy Herald ati:YSlL
"The abolition paperer (in the 4anie breath)
denounce the repeal of the Misiouri Cmaifra
mise, which restored to the people of Kansas
the right to make their own laws, and charge
the President with not sustaining . , by the mil
itary power of the country, the rights; which
they contend should never have been granted!
Can incongieteney go farther than this? None
but a Ilindoo would have sufficient impudence
to blame a man for not doing what he con
tended should not be done."
Specie.—The shipments of specie from the
United States, thus far this year, are but lit
tle more than one half the amount foi the
same period of last year. They foot up $4,-.
452,373—)f which $3,802,373 were from New
York, and $650,000 from Boston,--against
57,420,512 in 1855. The receipts of specie
from California for the same time this year
amount to $8,845,057, or about double the
shipments. The receipts from the same
source for the like period of 1855 were great
ter by $649,232. ,
Tough. Story.—The Hampshire Chronicle,
printed in Springfield, Mass., in 1787, relates
the following account of a hostile meeting be
tween the rebel Shay, of Pelham, and Gen;
Lymnn :
Gen. Lyman at one blow out off Shay's_ right
arm, a nd . Shay,seizing it by the wrist with his
left hand, killed an aid-de-eainp with the bleed
ing stump upon the spot. At this moment a
light horseman coming up struck oft' Shay's
head ; but the rebel not at all dismayed by the
accident, took his head between his teeth, and
swimming a neighboring river, made his es
cape.
Beautiful.--There is a sentiment as beauti
ful as just in the following lines :—"He who
forgets the fountain from whieb he drank, and
the tree un.dir whose shade he gambolled in
the days of his jouth, is a stranger to the
sweetest impressions of the human heart."
,'Society without children would be like
the earth without flowers, the sky without
stars, heaven without angels.
S"Amon? other blessin
ran a man son t•an • !fit or
vanity, because it makes hinrfeel happy."
SerF. N. Ripley, a yowl& doctor from New
York, vas frozen to death in Minnesota last
winter,.and devoured by wolves.
CI
NO. 32.
" staid Dr.