N
V5Ssl3i '
II. B. MASSER, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
U&&&m3$e-' nFTTTr.Tr. mawrt stp.tt.t opphqitv ttjtt. phqt mrwTr.u!.
iFamfla ilciaspnpcr-Dcbotcli to iioUUcs, Bftrrsturr, XlTOfalfiy, j?orfffjn ant Domestic .fictos, Stfntce ant the arts, CTcrftulturr, luarltets, amusements, &c.
. NEW SKHIKS VOL. -1, NO. S.
SUNBUKY, NORTHUMBERLAND COUNTY, PA., SATURDAY, ATRIL 20, I SSI.
OLD SEMES VOL. 11, NO. 31.
RIC AN,
T 12 II 91.4 OP I1IK A1UKIC1N.
THE AMK1UCAN i publisher! .very tntnr.liy at TWO
TtOLLAHS per annum ti lie f d half yearly in nilvance,
Mo pan" discontinued mail errerairs aie paid.
All eumroniiientiona or kllera on Imames feinting to till
eStce, to insure a'teiiii"". must he POST PAID.
TO CLUBS.
Tare copies to one address, 5fJ'
Seven l' 1 10 0
Fifteen ! 1 tfuu"
Five dollara in advance will pay fur tliree year's lubscnp
tin to the American.
Ona Sonnie of 18 line. 3 timet, f I 00
Crery anlweqnent insertion, 9.1
On ttnuare, 3 months, Soit
Sis months, AM
an year. fl'M)
Business Cards of Five tinea, per nnnnm, 300
Merrhanta and others, nilvertisme liy the
year, with the privilege of inserting dif
ferent advert iseiiieula weekly. 1000
ty Larger Advertisements, u per agreement.
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
SUNBUBV, FA.
Business attended to iu llic Comities of Nor
thumberland, Union, Lycoming and Columbia.
Kelt r to I
P. & A. I'tivni-nr, )
LnWhK & UKIIO, I
SoMtus & ?-.oiiuitss, V'Aiai.
Hut mli. Mt ' lHtlll V Co. I
Spf.hi.no, 'iooii S: Co., J
THE tXi L.4TKST 411K1VAI,
NEW GOODS,
AT THE STORE OF
IP. A T. CLSHE1TT,
"IJTHO takes this method of informing hi
friend nml customers, that he has just re
ceived ami opened a splendid assortment of
N li W G OOD8,
wttich lie olTora to the jmlilic nt the lowest prices.
H is atoek consiKls of every variety aiui (uality,
necessary for the farmer, mechanic, anil laborer.
well "the ijrolVssional man, viz: all kinuaof
Mens' A j) p a r e 1 ,
VCH A9 C LOTH. CASSI.MKRr, SATTINETTS,
VKSTlMiS, Ae.
ALSO :
a liirpe iiBKortment of
Cmlicnt1, Motissclmf Jc Laines, Mpaccas,
Merinos. Slwu-ls. Ilaiutkcrihirjs,
(Hoi, lloiscry. Checks,
Cwiihrits, (.'ing'
hums, be
Alo a larc assortment of
Bols and Siorx, ILiis and Caps,
Gum over Shoes,
Also an Assoktment of
READY MADE CLOTHING.
A general assortment of (iroci'ries, Sugar,
Cufiee, Tra, Oin-cse, Mo
latst's, Sjices.
An usiiortineiit of
Kunlu-iii, Hails, Steel cud Iron.
Liquors,
Such as Brnndy, Gin, Rum, Whixkcy, Sc
iy Produce of all kinds will lw taken in ex
change, anil the highest market price j.alJ for the
am.
Sunbury, Nov. 30. lr,0 ly.
GEE AT ARRIVAL
OP
NEW GOODS!
Market Street, Evmbury, Pa.,
"HOHN W. FKII.INU respectfully informt iiiat
faji irieuds anil ii-lciiiicrn mat lie nas juai rc
eiveJ a large and hainUoinc asaorlmcnt of
Dry (Jootls,
CMi.iRi)iM of ClotliH, Caitsinirrtf, Satt.t.ctU,
Dti Emiho!, 'hluws. Fancy
a lit! Slajde fioixlii.
ALSO:
GROCERIES of every description,
DltLOS AND MKDICiNr.!.
GITEZSSWARE AOT HARDWARE.
Fish, Salt, Plaster and a general assortment of
II suih goods aa will suit all classes; the far
mer, Mechanic, Laborer and (jentlemcn of all
professions.
The Ladies
Will find a great variety of all such article aa
they will need tor the present season.
"ff Country produce of all kinds taken in ex
hanpe at the highest market price.
bunnm.T, Nov. 9, 1H5U.
CLOTHING!!!
Yt lioleftalc & CSetail,
At the PHILADELPHIA WARDROBE,
South Hast Corner, Market and 6th Sts.
Clothing Fashionably I' lit and will Made.
1 K. 3'.BiSS,LE V Co.
INVITE the attention of Wholesale and Retail
Buvers, to their extensive and complete stock
of Spring and rSumiiier Clothing: comprising
every variety of stylo that can be produced.
Our aim is to please and accommodate all; and
in order to do this, we manufacture Clothing at
almost every price.
Belling for cash only enables us to otl'er cloth
ing at a very trilling advance.
Our motto is, ' Viofilt and Quid
Salts.
We are confident that an examination by you
is all that is necessary to confirm what we say,
and secure your custom.
1'. U. McNEILLE &. CO.
Philadelphia, March IS, 1851 lut.
NSW STAGE LINE
FROM POTTSVILLE TO SHAM0K1N.
A new line of stages is now running daily be
tween the above places. A comfortable two horse
stage will leave ML Csriucl for ISbamokin, imme
diately alter the arrival of the Pottsville stage at
that place, and will return the next day from
Bhaoiokin, so as to meet the Pottaville stage on
1U return to Potuville.
," From Shamokin to Trevorton
there will be established a DAILY LINE by next
spring to as to connect with this line at Shamokin.
In the menu time private conveyances will be in
readme at bnamokin on the arrival of pasaen
far,
CONRAD KERSHNER.
Shamokin, Dec. 14, IH50.t.
NOTICE,
AS the subscrilier Intends making new arrange
menu, in his business on the first of Jauua
if 186 1, all persons knowing thoru selves indebted
o him, are requested to call and make settlement
up to that time, by payment or giving their note
far th amount dua.
JOHN W. FRILING.
unbury, Dea, t8, 1S. tf,
SELECT POETRY.
COl RTMIir AD DISAPPOINTMENT.
Miwt Sukey Smith had fla.eii liair,
Her dadlly linil Ihe pett ier,
Hor eyes were. (Jrey, niul looked serene,
Upon her favoiite suitor.
That suilor was a jolly youth,
So nimble, blithe ami brawny,
The yellow ferer took him olf.
One day to California.
And when t heard that lie was gone,
"It's now," said 1, "or never!"
I ahared mysolf and greased my shoes,
And tried to look right clever.
I trisced myself from tip to toe,
And caught and mounted Hobin,
But all Ihu way I rode along
My heart it kept a throbbm' !
And when 1 reached her daddy:s house,
II still kept on a thiimpin',
But when 1 saw that lovely maid,
It kiudui stopped a jumpiu'.
'Twas half-past Inn, when at her feet,
I knell, and yet ere dinner,
With honeyed speech and winning ways,
1 had contrived to win her.
Some months elapsed lo set tho day
I now began to press her :
I urged, entreated, plend in vain
In vain I did caress her.
While matters were thus cross'd and spil'd,
My clothes all growing seedy,
Mv rival from tho mines returned,
Still for my Sukey greedy.
I saw him kinder sidle up.
And slip his arms around her,
When heaven's and earth! she let him
kiss
Those precious lips ! Confound her !
I told her that 1 was surprised
My eyes had sure deceived me
And asked her to renew her vows,
And from suspense relievo me.
When, don't you think, the lartial gal,
Her thumb upon her smeller J
Her finger wriggled as she said
"Can't came it, little feller?"
Skctcij.
THE TIMELY WARNING.
My father, after an absence of three
years, returned lo the home so dear to him.
lie liaa maue tits last voyage, ana rejoiceu
to have reached a haven of rest, from the
perils of the sea During his absence I
had grown from a mere child and baby ol
my mother's for I was her youngest
into a rough, careless and headstrong boy.
Her gentle voice no longer restrained me.
I was often wilful, and sometimes disobe
dient. I thought it indicated manly supe
riority to be independent of a woman's in
fluence. My father's return was a fortu
nate circumstance for me. He soon per
ceived the spirit of insubordination stirring
within me. I saw by his manner that it
displeased him, although for a Jew days, he
said nothing to me about it.
It was an afternoon in October, bright
and golden, that my father told me to get
my hat, and take a wait Willi Dim. IV e
turned down a narrow lane into a fine
open field a favorite play ground for the
children in the neighborhood. Alter talk
ing cheerfully on different topics for a
while, mv father asked me il I observed
that huze shadow, thrown bv a mass of
rocks that stood in the middle of the field.
I replied that I did. 'My lather owned
this land,' said he. 'It was my playground
when a boy. That rock stood there then.
To me it was a beacon , and whenever I
look at it, I recall a dark spot in my life
an event so paiulul to dwell upon, that if
it was not as a warning to you i should not
speak of it. Listen, then, my boy, and
learn wisdom from your father's errors.
My father died when I was a mere child.
I was the only son : my mother was a
gentle, loving woman, devoted to tier cnu
dren. and beloved bv every body, i re
member her pair, beautiful face her sweet
affectionate smile her kind and tender
voice. In my childhood 1 loved her in
tensely : I was never happy apart from
her ; and she, fearing that I was becoming
too much of a baby, sent me to the high
school in the villa??. Alter associating a
time with rude, rough boys, 1 lost in
measure, my fondness for home and my
reverence for my mother, and it became
more and more difficult for her to restrain
my impetuous nature. I thought it an in
dication ol manliness to resist her authority
and not appear to feel penitent, although I
knew that mv conduct pained ner. me
epithet I most dreaded was girl boy, I
could not bear to have it said by my com
panions that I was tied to my mother's
apron strings. From a quiet, home-loving
child, I soon became a wild, roistering boy:
my dear mother used every persuasion to
induce me to seek happiness within the
precincts ot home, bite exerted Dersell to
make our fireside attractive, and my sister,
following her self-sacrificing example,
sought to entice me by planning games and
diversions (or my entertainment. I saw
all this, but 1 did not heed it.
'It was on an afternoon like this, that as
I was about leaving the dinner table to
spend the intermission between morning
and evening school in the street, as usual
my mother laid her hand upon my shoulder
and said mildly out firmly, 'Son, I wish
you to come with me.' I would have re
belled ; but something in her manner awed
me. She put on her bonnet and said to
me, 'we will take a little walk together.
I followed her in silence; and, as I went
out the door I observed one of my rude
companions skulking about the house, and
J knew ha was waiting lor me. tie sneer
ed as I went past him. My pride was
wounded to the quick. lit was a very
bad boy, but being some years older than
my sell, he exercised a great influence over
me. J followed my mother sulkily till we
reached the spot where we now sland, be-
neath the shadow of this huge rock. O,
my boy, could that hour bo blotted from
my memory, which has cast a dark shadow
over my lite, gladly would I exchange all
the world can offer me for the quiet peace
of mind 1 could enjoy. But not like this
huge, unsightly pile, it stands the monu
ment of my guilt forever.
My mother being feeble in health, sat
down and beckoned me to sit beside her.
'Alfied, my dear son,' said she, 'have you
lost all love lor your mother 1' I did not
reply. I fear you have,' she continued ;
and may God help you to see your own
heart, and me to do my duty.' She then
talked to nie of my misdeeds, and the
dreadful consequences ol the course I was
then pursuing, fly tears, and entreaties
and prayers she tried to make an impres
sion upon me. She placed before me the
lives and example of great and good men;
she sought to stimulate my ambition. I
was moved, but too proud to show it, and
remained standing in dogged silence before
her. I thought, 'what will my compan
ions say, if, after all my boasting, I yielded
at last, and submitted to be led by a wo
man V
What agony was visible on my mother's
face, when she saw that all she had said
and suffered failed to move me ! She rose
to go home, and I followed at a distance.
She spoke no more to me till we reached
her own door. 'It is school time now,'
said she. 'Go, my son, and once more 1
beseech you to think upon what I have
said to you.'
'I shan't go to school,' said I.
She lookeci astonished at my boldness,
but replied firmly, 'Certainly you will go,
Allred ; I command you.'
'I will not,' faid 1 with a tone of defi
ance.
One of two things you must do, Alfred :
either go to school this moment, or I will
lock you in your own room, and keep you
there till you are ready to promise implicit
obedience to my wishes in future.'
1 dare von to do it, said 1: 'you can't
get me up stairs.'
'Alfred, choose now,' said my mother,
and laid her hand upon my arm. She
trembled and was deadly pale.
If you touch me I will kick you, said
I, in a terrible rage. God knows I knew
not what I said!
Will you go, Alfied ?'
No,' 1 replied, but quailed beneath her
eye.
i hen follow tnc, said she, and grasped
my arm firmly. I raised my foot O, my
son, hear ine! I raised my foot and kitk-
her my sainted mother! How my
ead reels as the torrent of memory rushes
over me: l kicked my mottler a loeuie
woman my mother! May God forgive
me, for I can never forgive myself! She
staggered baik a few steps, and leaned
against the wall. She did not look at me.
I saw her heart beat against her breast.
O, heavenly Father,' she cried, 'forgive
In in, he knows not what he does!'
The gardener just then passed the door,
and seeing my mother pale and "unable to
stand, he stopped; she beckoned him in.
lake this boy up stairs, and lock him in
his loom; she gave me such a look it
will forever lollow me it was a look ol
agony ; - mingled Willi intense! love it
was the last unutterable pang Irom a heart
that was broken. In a moment I found
myself a prisoner in my own room. I
thought I would fling myself from the
open window, and dash my brains out, but
1 felt alraid to die. 1 was not penitent.
At times my heart was subdued, but my
stubborn pride rose in an instant, and bade
me not to yield. Ihe pale face ol my
mother haunted me. I flung myself on the
bed and fell aileep. I awoke at midnight,
stiflened by the damp night air, and terri-
d with trightlul dreams. 1 would have
sought my mother at that moment, for 1
trembled with fear, but my door was fast.
With the daylight my terrors were dissi
pated, and I became bold and resisted all
good impulses. The servant brought my
meals, but 1 did not taste them. 1 thought
the day would never end. Just at twi
light I heard a light foot-step approach the
door. It was my sister, who called me by
name. 'What may I tell mother from
you V she asked.
'.othmg,' I replied.
'O, Alfred, for my sake, for all our sakes,
say that you are sorry. She longs to for
give you.'
I won't be driven to school against my
will,' said I.
But you will go, if she wishes it, dear
Alfred, said sister pleadingly.
.o, I won't said I, 'and you needn't say
a word more about it.
'O brother, vou will kill her ; and then
you can never have a happy moment again.'
'1 made no reply to tins. My leeiings
were touched, but I still resisted their
kindly influence. My sister called me
but I would not answer. I heard her foot-
steps slowly retreating, and again,' I flung
mysell on the bed to pass another wretched
and fearful night. U God, how wretched!
how fearlu! I did not know.'
Another footstep, slower and feebler
than my sister's, disturbed me. A voice
called me by name. It was mother's.
Alfred ; my son, shall I come in ? are you
sorry for what you have done 1 .he asked
'I cannot tell what influence, operating
at that moment, made me speak adverse to
my feelings. The gentle voice ol my mo
ther, which thrilled through me, melted
the ice from my obdurate heart, and I long-
.... . - . ...Vl'f
ed lo throw myself on Der tiecK, dui i aiu
not. No, my boy, I did not. But my
words gave the lie to my heart, when
said I was not sorry. I heard her with
draw. I heard her proan. I longed to
call her back, but J did not.
I was awakened Irom an uneasy slum'
ber by hearing my name called loudly, and
my sister stood beside me. 'Get up, Al
fred : O. don't wait a minute ! I thought
I was dreaming, but I got up mechanically
and followed mv sister. On a bed, pale
and cold as mnrble, lav my mother. She
had not undressed. She had thrown her
self on the bed to rest ; arising lo go again
to me she was seized with palpitation of
the heart, and borne senseless lo her room.
1 cannot tell you my agony as I looked
upon her my remorse ten fold more bit
ter from the thought that she would never
know it. I believed myself to be her mur
derer. I fell on the bed beside her. I
could not weep. My heart burned in my
bosom; my brain was all on fire. My sis
ter threw her arms around me, and wept in
silence. Suddenly we saw a light motion
of my mother's hand; her eyes unclosed.
She had recovered consciousness, but not
speech. She looked at me, and moved her
lips. I could not understand her words,
'Mother, mother! I shrieked, 'say only
lhat you forgive me. She could not say
it with her lips, but her hand pressed mine.
She smiled upon me, and lifting her thin
white hands, she clasped my own within
them, and cast her eyes upward. 1 fell on
my knees beside her. She moved her lips
in prayer, and thus she died. I remained
still kneeling beside that dear form, till my
gentle sister removed me. She comforted
me ; for she knew the load of sorrow at
my heart heavier than grief for the loss
of a mother; for it was a load of sorrow
for sin. The joy of youth had left me for
ever. My son, the sufferings which memories
awaken must continue as long as life.
God is merciful ; but remorse lor past mis
deeds is a canker worm in the heart, that
preys upon it forever.'
My father ceased speaking, and buried
his face in his hands. I raw and felt the
bearing his narrative had upon my own
character and conduct. I have never for
gotten it. Boys who spurn a mother's con
trol, who are ashamed to own that they
are wrong, who think it manly to resist
her authority, or yield to her influence,
beware! Lay not up for yourselves bitter
memories for future years.
M'lUXJ AD POt-TRY.
The editor of ihe Cincinnati News has had
his imagination exulted by ihe poetic influ
ences of spring, and thus pours out tho tide
of song :
"And now the merry ploughboy
Whistles his morning song :
Along the dale, and through the vale
:Tm eeiioed loud and long,
The farmer's Hocks are rotmg free,
And on tho budding shrubbeiy
His spouse's
Cuw si's
11 1 ovists,
And the martins have returned, and found
A welcome lo our houses;
And Ihu lillle uiggets run aiouiul
Divested of then Uoue."
r.tnoY ami Tin: lot:ui
AN UiJSOCIAELE LEI)I ELL0 V.
OR,
A few months since, a son of Erin, about
nine o'clock one evening, called at a coun
try inn, in the western part of Pennsylva
nia, and demanded lodgings for the night.
L, was evident, from his appearance and
actions that he and liquor had been quite
ollv companions throughout Ihe day. Ihe
landlord was a lazy, good-natured soul, and
had imbibed rather freely that day himself.
"If 1 give yon a light and tell you where
the room is, you can find the place," said
the landlord.
'Och, an' it's meeself that can do that
most illigantly. Jist show me the way,
an' i'll find it as azy as the howly vargin
showers down blessings upon the sinful,"
rejoined the Iri.hnian.
1 lie directions were given him and also
a candle. Hi was directed to go lo a room
in the second story of the house. By the
time he had reached the top of the stairs
his light had become extinguished, and he
had forgotten in what direction he was to
go. Seeing rays of light issuing from a
room, the door of which stood slightly ajar,
he reconnoitereu the inside ol the room,
and found it to contain a bed, in which lay
a man, and a stand with a small lighted
lamp upon it. I- eeling disinclined to make
any further search for the room to which I
he had been directed, lie divested Inmsell
of his clothing, and quietly crept into the
back part ot the bed. He had been in bed
but a few moments, when a young lady
and gentleman entered the loom. The
Irishman eyed them closely. They seated
themselves on Ihe chairs in close proximity
to each other, and after chatting merrily
lor a short time, the young man threw his
arm around her waist in a cousinly man
ner, and imprinted a kiss upon her tempt
ing lips. There was a witchery in il which
demanded a repetition. The scene amused
the Irishman vastly, and being free Irom
selfishness, he concluded that his sleeping
companion should be a participant with
him in the enpy merit of Ihe scene, and to
this end he nudged him, but his companion
stirred not. lie then nut his hand upon
him and found that he was tightly locked
in the embrace of death. Synonymous
with this discovery, lie bounded out of bed,
exclaiming .
'Murthtr! Murther! Howly saints ov
hiven pertect me !"
He had scarcely touched the floor with
his feet, before the young lady and gentle
man were making rapid strides towards the
stairway, terror being depicted on their
countenances. They had just reached the
ton of the stairs when the Irishman came
dashing along as though all the fiends of
Erebus were close at his heels intent on
making him their prey, and the whole
three went tumbling down stairs, and it i
hard to determine which of the three
reached the foot of the stairs first. .The
landlord stood aghast as the Irishman rush'
ed into the bar-room, with nothing be
tween him and nudity but a garment vul
garly styled a shirt, the hair on his head
standing upon end, his eye balls ready to
leap from their sockets and he gasping for
breath. It was a sight that would have
made a man laugh who had worn a vinegar
face from the day of his birth. Nothing
could induce him to seek a bed that night
again. When the young lady and gentle
man found that it was not the corpse that
had so unceremoniously bounded from the
bed, they returned lo the room, (they being
the watchers for the night,) and, doubtPss,
commenced their courting at the point
where it had been so suddenly broken off.
A GENTLE REPROOF.
One day as Zachariah Hodgson was go
ing to his daily avocations after breakfast,
he purchased a fine large codfish, and sent
it home, with directions to his wife to have
it cooked for dinner. As no particular
mode of cooking it was prescribed, the
good woman well knew that, whether she
boiled it or made into a chowder, her hus
band would scold her when he came home.
But she resolved to please him once, if pos
sible, and therefore cooked persons of it in
several different ways. She also, with
some little difficulty, procured an amphibi
ous animal from a brook back of the house,
and plumped it into the pot. In due time
her husband came home; some covered
dishes were placed on the table, and with
a frowning fault-finding look, the moody
man commenced the conversation :
"Well, wife, did you get the fish I
bought V
"Yes, my dear."
"I should like to know how you have
cooked it. 1 will bet anything that you
have spoiled it for my eating. Taking off
the cover.) I thought so. What in creation
possessed you to fry it ? I would as lief eat
a boiled frog."
"Why, my dear, I thought you loved it
best fried."
"You didn't think any such thing. You
knew better I never loved fried fish
why didn't you boil it?"
"My dear, Ihe last time we had fresh
fish, you know I boiled it, and you said you
liked it best fried. But I haved boiled some
also."
So saying, she lilted a cover, and lo! the
shoulders of the cod, nicely boiled, were
neatly deposited in a dish, a sight ot which
would have made an epicure rejoice, but
which only added to the ill nature of her
husband.
"A pretty dish this! exclaimed he.
"Boiled fish! Chips and porridge ! If you
had not been one of the most stupid of wo
mankind, you would have made it into
chowder!"
His patient wife with a smile, immedi
ately placed a tureen before him, contain
ing an excellent chowder.
"My dear," said she, "1 was resolved to
please you. There is your favorite dish."
Favorite dish, indeed," grumbled the
discomfited husband. "1 dare say it is an
unpalatable wishy-washy mess. 1 would
rather have a boiled frog than the whole
ol it."
This was a common expression of his,
and had been anticipated by his wife, who,
as soon as Ihe preference wa3 expressed,
uncovered a large dish near her husband,
and there was a large nuLL-rnoc of porteu
tous dimensions and pugnacious aspect,
stretched out at full length ! Zachariah
sprung from his chair, not a little frighten
ed at the unexpected apparition.
"My dear," said his wife, in a kind, en
treating tone, "1 hope you will at length
be able to make a dinner."
Zachariah could not sland this. His
surly mood was finally overcome, and he
burst into a hearty laugh, lie acknowled
ged that his wife was right and that he was
wrong ; and declared lhat she should never
have occasion to read him such another
lesson, and he was as good as his word.
Too much tor the General. The Mo
bile TVifctoie tells the following tory of
Jemmy Maher, who has so long beeu the
gardener of the Presidential mansion, at
Washington.
General Jackson had heard rumors that
Jemmy was accustomed to get diuuk and
bo uncivil to the visitors at the White
House: so, one bright morning, he summon
ed hitn into his presence to receive his dis
missal." "Jemmy," said the General, "I hear bad
stories about you. It is said lhat you are
constantly drunk, and uncivil to the visi
ters."
Jemmy was puzzled for a reply ; at lust
he said
"General, bedad, 1 hear muck worse sto-
rieat about you, but do )ou think 1 believe
them 1 No, by the powers, I know they are
lies."
A schoolboy down east, was reading
aloud in the old Testament, when, coming
to the pnrase, "making the wastt places
glad," he was asked by the pedagogue what
it meant ! The youngster paused txratched
his head but could give no answer, when
up jumped a most precocious urchin, and
cried out: "I know what it means, master
It means hugging the gills; for Tom Ross is
alters huggiu' 'em round the waist, and it
makes 'em as glad as can be."
Ma. Barkum, il is reported, is about start
ing a monster exhibition to be railed "Bar-
num's American Museum and Menagarie."
It is intended to be the largest exhibition in
the world, and will tiavel through lural dit
tricts of the country duiing the sumtr.er,
The wagons or cars for this exhibition, are
lo be built in this city. Some of them were
completed a day or two since at Ihe estab
lishment of Mr. Thomas B. Pierson. ti
teark Advertiser,
The Widow.
A widow is a dangerous thing,
With soft, black shining curls,
And looketh more bewitching,
Than a host of romping girls.
Her Inugh is so delicious,
So knowing clear beside,
You'd never deem her thinking
Soon to become a bride.
Her dress though made of sables,
Gives roundness to her form ;
A touch of something thoughtful,
A witching, winning charm.
And when she sits down by you,
With quiet easy grace,
A tear may fall unbidden.
Or a smile light up her face.
Her voice is soft, melodious,
And lute like in its tone ;
She some times sighs, "'tis dreadful
To pass through life alone !"
And then she'll tell you, you remind her,
Of the loved one dead and gone,
Your step, your form, jour features
Thus the widow will tun on.
Oh ! listen, yet be careful,
For well she plays her part,
Her lips distil the nectar,
That doth enslave the heart ;
Be guarded or she'll win you,
With sighs, and smiles, and tears ;
1' faith she'll wear the breeches, too,
And box your silly ears.
NUMERAL FIGURES.
The present numeral figures, 1, 2, 3, iie..f
have not been very long in use. They are
said to have been brought to Europe from
Arabic cyphers. The Arabs, however, as
has been pretty clearly established, obtained
them from India, about the year 900. They
appeared in England about the year 1250,
and were at first employed in astronomical,
geometrical and abstruse mathematical
works only. Their use was apparently lit
tle valued till after the discovery of printing
when it was sodn found lhat a stripling at
school, in a country village, could, by the
help of these figures, in a few minutes,
work a sum that the most eminent mathe
matician of the twelvth century could not
have reckoned in a whole day with the Ro
man numerals then in use. The earliest
occurrence of the present vulgar figures
upon a monument is said to be 1454.
In common accounts, they were not gener
ally used until about the year 1500.
A NEW SPATfcR
The Boston Times says that a man cats up
a pound of sugar, und the pleasure he has
enjoyed is ended, but the information he
gets from a newspaper is treasured op in the
mind, lo La enjoyed anew, and to be used
whenever occasion or inclination calls for it.
A uewspaper is not the wisdom of one man,
or two men, it is the wisdom of the age and
the past ages loo. A family without a
newspaper is always half an age behind the
times in general information, beside, they
never think much, or liud much lo talk
about. And then there are little ones
glowing up in ignorance, without any taste
for reading. Besides all those evils, there's
the wife, who, when hur work is dune, has
to sit down with her hands in hor lap and
nothing to amuse her or divert her mind
from the trials and caret of the domestic
sircle. Who, then, would be without a
newspaper f
Tut Leopard. ' This here hanimal, my
little dears," obserred tho keeper of a men
agerie to a school, "is a leopard. His com
plexion is yeller, and agreeably diwersified
with black spots I It was a wulgar horror
of the huueients, that the ciitter vos biuca-
pable of changtn' his spots, viteh vos dis
proved in modern times by observin that
he very frequently slept in one spot, and
the next night changed to another I"
"But, 1 say, Mr. Showman !" screamed
lillle Johnny, "the leopard ain't yellow at
all the Bible says he's w hite !"
"Vere is the text," inquired the showman
majestically '-in the apothecary, or in the j
song of Susannau 1"
It's where it says lhat Gehazi went forth
a leptr as white as snow."
A Dutch widowir, out west, whose
better half departed on the long journey lo
the spirit land some twelve months ago, de
termined, the other day, to consult the
' Rappers," and endeavor to obtain a spirit
ual communication, feeling anxious respect
ing the future Slate of his wife. These
"rappers," be it knowfi, were nnt the genu
ine 'mediums," but of a bogus kind ad
venturers endeavoring to reap a harvest out
of the late mysterious developments. After
the usual ceremonies, the spirit of "Mrs.
Hauntz," manifested by raps its willing
ness to converse with her discousolated
spouse.
' Ish dat you, Mrs. Haunti 1" Inquired tha
Dutchman.
"Yes, dearest, it is jour own wife,
who '
"You lie, you tarn tevil a ghost," inter
rupted Hauntz, starting from his seat, "nvl0d
frau speak nolting but Deutch, nd she
never said 'learest' in all her. life. It was
always 'Hauntz, you tief V' or, 'Hauntz, you
tirty shkamp V " and the Dutchman hob
bled from '.'ie room well satisfied that
the "ripping spirits" were all humbug, and
tat ha was safe from any further com
munication with his shrewish frau on this
earth.
A countryman, being offered a glass of so
da water the other day, rejected it with in
dignation. "Do you think I am a salaman
der," said he, "lo drink, water bihn' hot 1"
JOIIX WESLEY. '
Some century and a quarter ago, John
Wesley was Fellow of Lincoln College, and
Greek lecturer there. With a lev- compan
ions lecoiling like himself from the profli
gate habits of tho place, he took to heart
the appeals of Law's "Serious Call," and re
solved lo live with tho invisible realities,
which with others served but for a stately
dream or a mocking jost. In the cold mid
night, beneath the truthful sky, he struggled
for a faith worthy of so great a sight. Ha
prayed without ceasing, ho fasted in secret;
he passed the mystery on from his own
heart to the souls of others ; and led tha
saintly life with less oflence to creed and
prejudice, than almost any devotee in histo
ry. The son of a High church rector, he
could not be charged with unsacramontal
doctrine or conconformist sympathies ; the
Christain baptism of dissenters, and drove
them from the communion as unregenerate.
He duly proved his spirit of self sacrifice by
preferring a mission to the Indians of Geor
gia to a parochial provision at home, and the
fraternity of the poor Hernnhuler to tho
aristocratic priesthood of F.ngland.
The sequal is well known : how he took
up the labors, while others boasted of the
privileges, of Apostleship; civilized whole
countries ; lifted brutal populations into
communities of or.lorly citizens and consis
tent Cristains ; and in grandeur of mission
ary achievement rivalled the most splendid
successes of Christendom. With what eye
did the Church as a mother, and the Univer
sity as the nurse, of so much greatness look
upon his career f Did lliey avail themsel
ves of his gifts, bless Heaven for tho timely
mission of such rare graces, and heap on
him Ihe work which he was so eager to do?
Did they found an order to bear his nrtma
and propagate his activity T He coveted
their support, and so clung to their alliance,
that seldom has a strong enthusiasm been
combined with such moderation. But in their
most favorable mood, they did but stare and
stand aloof.
It was vain to look to the clergy for their
help, he was driven to a lay organization
and even a lay ministry, tho Wesleyan
chapel became the rival instead of the atix.
iliary of the Pu.ish Church, and tho most
loyal of all popular religious bodies was ab
solutely repalsed from conformity. When
the leaders, with a carl for their pulpit, and.
the field or their church, piuvoked the vi
ces and passions they denounced, and were
stoned and carried off to prison, the rector
was less likely to be their intercessor than
their judge. And in Wesley's college days,
where the premonition of his religious
movement was distinctly given he met no
wisdom and ulfecliun to protect him from
the scum of tho learned and the laughter of
the rich. The apostle of popular piety was
repudiated and condemned." Westminster
Review.
Kost iisKi, the hero of Poland, wishing
to mako a present to a clergyman, cent it by
a young man. and desired him to take the
horse he usually rode. On his return, the
young man said, he would never ride his
horse again, unless he gavo his purse at the
same time, for, said ho, "as soon as a poor
man on tho roads takes off his hat, and asks
charity, tho horse immediately stops, and
will not stir, till something is given the peti
tioner, and as I hud but little money with
me, I was obliged, when it was gone, to
feign giving something, in order to satisfy
the horse."
"Madam,'-" said an old Roger to his board
ing house keeper, "in primitive countries,
beef is often the legal tender; but, madam,"
said he, emphatically, thrusting his fork in
to the steak, "all the law in Chrislcdom
couldn't make this beef tender." Ho look
ed aiound the board for encouragement, and
found it in the fuel that all tho boaiders who
ate the beef held their jaws.
How apt men are to condemn in others
what they practice themselves without scru
ple !" Plutarch tells of a yvolf, who, peep
ing into a hut where a company of shep
herds were regaling themselves with a joint
of mutton, said, "what a clamor they wouM
have raised if ihey had caught mo at such
a banquet." Header, how is il with your
self iu this respect ?
A Nun's Wish. Southey, in his "Omni.,"
relates tho following : "When I was last at
Lisbon, a nun made her escape from a nun
nery. Tho first thing for which 8he inquired,
when she reached the house in v'mth she
was to be secreted, was a loo'iug glass.
She had entered the convent wtien only five
years old, and from that. lime had, vei.
seen her own face."
Hmkdv re.- Sic;; Hkabaciii:. -A f.iend
informs Us that( jf persons who are subject
to sick headache, will look steadily for two
or 'h'ee minutes, at a piece of green baize,
green silk, or other green material, when
they feel Ihe spell corning on, they can
throw it of! enliiely. lie has tried it fte
quently, and never knew it to fail. Fort
land Advertiser.
The Ciucaqo Advtrtistr imitates that
some of the abolitionist are eudeavoring la
steal the "Uiek Slave," to run her intq
Canaua.
Onlt one out of a hundred and three of
the Mexicans iu Key? Mexico, have learns
ed to read. !,-..,
Beauty. The best pait of beauty is thai
which a picture cannot enpiess,