I-lU'NTI)GDON JOIJW\AL
3Dft to Central *ntelltgence, anurtio(ng, Etterature, no alit, arto, Artencro,Rortculture, Zintuoentent, Sze.. Sze.
Vrctonc. •csruzza i , s:g®a Site 23.
PC 1114811E0 IT
THEODORE H. CREMER.
qU I COLL'UZiIigEIc.
The “Joctisst." will be published every Wed
nesday morning, at $2 00 a year, if paid in advance,
and if not paid within six months, $2 00.
No subscription received for a shorter period than
six months, nor any paper discontinued till all ar
reamges are paid.
Advertisements not exceeding one square, will be
inserted three times for $1 00, and for every subse
quent insertion 25 cents. If no definite orders are
given as to the time an advertisement is to be continu
ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged ac
cordingly.
DAY, GERRISH & C 0 1
GENERAL PRODUCE,
Commission and Forwarding
Merchants.
Granite Stores, lower side of Race street,
on the Delaware, Philadelphia.
IfiDESPEC'FFULLY inform their friends
414 and the merchants generally, that they
have taken the large Wharf - and Granite
Front Stores, known as Ridgeway's Stores,
immediately below Race street, iu addition
4o their old wharf, where they will con
tinue the produce commissionlbusiness, as
also to receive and forward goods toad' points
on the Juniata, and North and West branches
of the Susquehanna Rivers. via. the Tide
Water, cud Pennsylvania, and Schuylkill and
Union canals.
— TilisQXl;iisliment has many advantages
over any other in the city in point of room
and convenience for the accommodation of
boats and produce. Being one of the largest
wharves on the Delaware, and the stores
extending from Water street to Delaware
Front. Five or six boats may at the same
time be loading and discharging. The usual
facilities will be given on all consignments
entrusted to their charge, which will be thank
fully received and meet with prompt atten
tion. Salt, Fish awl "faster, constantly . on
hand and for saic at the 1,..v05t market pt
References, Phii , ,delphia.
I. Ridgway,Esq. Hrock, son & Co
Jacob -Lex & Sun %Vaterman 8c Osbourn
Mulford 8c Alter Scull & Thompson
Wilson. Seger & Bro E l Etting & Bro
Ur ay, Bocroft & Co Morris, Patterson & co
' Lower & Barrow.
Lewistown.
I
at J Milliken A & G Blimyer
Paitteraon & Horner .1 McCoy, Egi.
Wuterstreet.
Stewart & Herren E\V Wike, Esq.
February 8,1843.-6 m.
THE GIRARD LIFE INSURANCE.
awsugmauvt za/aw vaMte
COWART
OF PIIILADELPIIIJ.
Office No. 159 Chesnut Street.
Make insurances of lives. Frant anninuities
nod Endowments, and receive and execute
Trusts.
Rates for insuring $lOO, on a single life.
Age. For 1 year. For 7 years. For life.
annually. annually.
20 40 91 60 95 SI 77
30 1 31 1 36 2 36
40 1 69 1 83 3 20
.50 1 96 2 09 4 60
60 4 35 4 91 7 00
EICAMPLX :—A person aged 30 years, by
paying the company $1 31 would secure to
his family or heirs $lOO, should lie die in one
year—or f0r413 10 he secures to them $:000
Or for $l3 60 annually for 7 years, lie se
cures to them $lOOO should lie die during
the 7 years—or for $23 60 paid annually du
ring life he provides for them 1000 dollars
whenever he dies— for $65 50 they would re
ceive 5000 dollars, should lie die in one year.
Further particulars respecting Life Insur
ance. Trnsts, or management of Estates and
property confided to them, may be had at
the office. _
W. RICHARDS, Pi esident.
JNO. F. JAMES, Actuary.
l'hira. April 19, 1843.-6 m.
BOOTS AND SHOES,
Leghorn and Straw Bonnets,
PALAILEAF AND LEGHORN HATS.
Merchants and others from Huntiugdon
and adjacent places, are respectfully reques
ted to call and examine the stock of the above
kinds of goods, which is full and extensive,
and which will be sold At prices that will
give satisfaction to purchasers, at No. 168
Market, street south-east corner of th street,
Philadelphia.
GEO. W. & LEWIS B. TAYLOR.
Pila. Feb. 6,1843.-6 mo.
W. U. Moiuuq, R, M. KIHKURIDE
WILLIAM H.MORRIS&,CO.
CiEJIbIaUIE4
AND
Commissiona - lerchantS,
HAVRE DE GRACE. MARYLAND.
1 - t - pAVING taken the large and comtnodi
aa ous Wharf and Warehouse situated di
rectly on the Canal Basin, are now prepared
to receive consignments of goods for tran
shipment or sale.
A general assortment of Groceries, &c.,
consisting of Loaf and Brown Sugars, Coffee,
Molasaes, Sperm Oil and Candles, White,
Yellow and Brown Soaps, Fish, Salt, Plaster,
&c., together with all kinds of Spices and
Paints—and also ready made Clothing will
be kept constantly on hand and disposed of
on city terms or exchanged for country pro
duce, Coal, &c.
April 19. 1843.-3 m.
BLANK DEEDS, of an improved
tbrm, for sale at this office.
Jleo BLANK PETIM "I FOR
N. 91 UR ALMATION,
POZITRT.
Many of our readers, doubtless, have read and ad
mired the following lines from the pen of some (to
us) unknown but highly gifted poet. To all who
may have any "music in their souls," it must have
a charm that can be felt but not described. We
have read it times unnumbered, and without enjoying
any less pleasantly the kind of bathing of the spirit
which the loosed sympathies spread in benignant
Hoods upon the inner man, calming and cooling the
irritations excitements which the summer heats of
the world's vexations are constantly engendering.
Tail INQUIRY.
Toll me, ye winged winds,
That round my pathway roar,
Do ye not know some spot
Where mortals weep no more
Some lone and pleasant dell,
Some valley in the west,
Where, free from toil and pain,
The weary soul may rest
The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low,
And sighed for pitty, as it answered " No !"
Tell me, thou mighty deep,
Whose billows round me play,
Know'st thou some favored spot,
Some Island far away,
Where weary man may find
The bliss for which he sighs,
Where sorrow never lives,
And friendship never dies I
The loud waves roaring in perpetual flow,
Stopped for a while, and sighed to answer, No !
And thou, serenest moon,
That with such holy face,
Doth look upon the earth
A sleep to night's embrace,
Tell me, in all thy round
Hest thou not seen some spot
Where miserable man
Might find a happier lot ?
Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in wo ;
And a voice sweet, but sad, responded " No !"
Tell me, my sacred soul,
Oh ! tell me, Hope and Faith,
Is there no resting place
From sorrow, sin and death?
Is there no happy spot
Whore mortals may be blessed,
Where grief may find a bahn,
And weariness a rest !
Faith, Hope, and Love, best boons to mortals
given,
Wav'd their bright wings, and whispered, Yes,
in Heaven !"
GOING TO TEXAS.
Our nation's hope, the Temperance band,
In many a town erect is,
And ho who hates what we have planned,
Had better go to Texas.
The pledge, the pledge, it is the thing,
A shield that now protects us;
Nor will we cast it off and wing
The vagrant's flight to Texas.
To touch not, test not, handle not,"
For every one a text is,
And he who'll strive the pledge to blot,
Must slide away to Texas.
The pledge, the pledge, &c.
Let drunkard-makers sigh and weep,
But never dare to vex us,
Or with the pledge their law we'll sweep,
And roll them oft to Texas.
The pledge, the pledge, &c.
The wine and cider toper. quail,
Our pledge their soul perplexes,
But they, with those who guzzle ale,
Must pledge—or off' to Texas.
The pledge, the pledge, &e.
The brewers and distillers prate—
" This pledge so ill alkyls us,
That we roust soon absquatulate,
And hide ourselves in Texas."
The pledge, the pledge, &c.
Let those who sell the poison, groan,
Our pledge their conscience vexes,
When left by whiskey friends alone,
They'll think of death—or Texas.
The pledge, the pledge, &c.
In empty bar-rooms let them cry,
" Our customers neglect us,"
Then take the eagle's wings and fly
Away—away to Texas.
The pledge, the pledge, &c.
NEW BOOTS
Of all the troubles here below,
The wery wust I knows on,
Is the insinivatin' vay
A now boot always goes on.
You goes and tries it on, you does,
It seems a perfect fit,
And lets you walk a square ut least,
Before it hurts a bit.
You rser.s IT TOEN, I feels it now,
Your foot seems all on fire ;
You vaults to lay down in the mud,
You almost ass to swear.
You vents to kick each man you meets,
You do kick all the doge--
The little niggers in your vay,
You treats them vus nor hogs.
The vorid to you is one vast boot,
Vith nought but pain inside it—
If such a thing as joy there is,
You vondcrs verc they hide it.
Boots causes half our misery,
And more than half our crimes,
For tight-fits sour the wary best
Of tempers at such times. Coaws.
A poor scamp getting into a great rage at his wife,
told her she'd never see his face until ho was rich
enough to come back in a carriage. He kept his
word, for in less than two hour , , he wan brought
barb (hull: tot. wtted.b.,o,,.
IILI‘37S27 I :I2 4 UZC3VIXIDa I:Pale g /TCSTZYLIEI Sail * CLE1L341613..
IZIGOZIaLANEOTTI3s
TUE FIRST PIANO-FORTY.
The two heroes of this little history present a
complete contrast. They began, continued, and
ended their worldly career, under nearly opposite
circumstances. One, at first rich, became suddenly
poor through extravagance and dissipation; the
other, originally poor, became all at once rich by
the force of ingenuity and industry. The one glo
ried in his high-sounding title ; the other was proud
of being simply an artificer. The glittering cour
tier revelled in the royal saloons of Versailles; the
laborious operative passed his days in a Parisian
workshop. One finished his life on the public scaf
fold, condemned in 1793 by a populace driven to
excesses by the tyranny of their superiors; the
other peacefully expired amidst the blessings of his
family and friends, his honest industry rewarded by
affluence, and honored by the fever of royalty.—
Finally, the first called himself Armand de Gontaut,
Duke of Latium ; the second was Sabastian Erard.
At the epoch when our tale commences, Sebastian
Erard was a poor artisan whom reverse of fortune
had driven from Strasburg, his native town, to seek
alone, without money and friends, Isis daily bread
in Paris. He was well educated; in his early
youth he had studied drawing, architecture, and
had devoted some time to scientific pursuits. He
had dreamt, with the artless enthusiasm of youth,
of one day distinguishing himself as an artist, a
professor or an architect. Conceive, then, his dis
appointment, when, at the age of sixteen, he found
himself a journeyman maker of harpoichords.—
Pride and ambition unceasingly tormented him. In
the obscure workshop where he pursued his mono
tonous avocations, he frequently gave way to a cer
tain degree of vexation. But, happily, Sebastian
Erard possessed nobler gifts than fall to the lot of
most persons in his humble grade. Even his mel
ancholy was no misfortune to him, for it made him
a thinker. His intelligence again turned his thoughts
to good account, and his ambition made him act up
on them. The presentiment that he should some
day materially better his condition, never left him;
' and, inspired by this hope, he seldom complained
aloud, but diligently pursued his work; for well did
he know that any advancement he should make
must be by following the very path along which he
was now travelling. Instead therefore, of bolting
off the course, as ambitious, but thoughtless young
men are apt to do, Erard reflected deeply on the na
ture of his art, and whether it might not be in hie
power to effect some important improvement upon
it. With a critical eye and car, he at length detec
ted the deficiencies of the instruments it was his
business to make—ill-toned, inharmonious spinets
and harpsichords, with which the ears of the court
were content to be charmed. He remarked that,
from their imperfect mechanism, it was impossible
that they could remain long in tune, and that even
whets their intonation was correct, the sound produ
ced was harsh and wiry. These imperfections,
which constant use of the instruments prevented
some of the best musicians from perceiving, became
apparent to the inquiring mind and opt ear of the
young artisan. But a remedy for them had yet to
be discovered; and for that object did Erard inces
santly apply his invention. At length lie became
acquainted with the principle of an improved key
board, introduced by Sibermann, a German manu
facturer, and that engendered in him a new and
happy idea, the result of which the reader will pre
sently learn.
While Sebastian Bran' employed every spare
minute in working out his new idea theoretically—
for
lie had not the means of doing so practically—the
other actor in our musical drama performed a very
different part. Engaged in the useless employments
and profitless pastimes of a man of fashion, the
Duke of Lauzun sought to revive, at the court of
Louis XVI., the dangerous gallantries and dissipated
manners of the gay, but brilliant court of Louis
XV., and the regent. Nor was he ill-calculated to
effect, by his own example, so evil an object; he
was handsome, rich and possessed of a high flow of
spirits with a good share of intellect and wit. His
conduct, however, was not always pleasing to Marie
Antoinette, the Queen ; but so great a favorite was
Lauzun with the King, that eho never ventured to
show her dislike to him openly.
Among other things which displeased her majes
ty, was a courtship sometimes carried. beyond the
bounds of good breeding, which the Duke had estab
lished with the Marchioness de Milleroy, a lady
whose position as a governess to the royal children
ought to have induced on her part the most guarded
conduct. A e there was nothing positively improper
in Lauzun and her forming a mutual regard, both
took umbrage at the little checks which the queen
thought it her duty on several occasions to give
them. An opportunity to resent these supposed
affronts soon occurred,and by a circumstance which
brought Sebastian Erard most unexpectedly within
the pale of court patronage.
Marie Antoinette, though surrounded by all the
allurements of tho French court, could not forget
the land of her births. " The Austrian," as she wax
correctly called, would often retire to the solitude of
her chamber to call up from the depths of her mem
iory, scenes of childhood and of home. She gather
ed about her a host of objects which served to re
mind her of Austria. The books, pictures and
sculptures which adorned her private apartments
were all from Germany. But one article was wan
ting to make the collection complete. Tho young
Queen of France was a proficient musician, and
loved the melodies of her metre lend ; Irq hew
could she give effect to them with the inharmonious
spinet then in her chamber? She resolved there
fore, to have a harpsichord from Vienna, and soon a
magnificent instrument of improved tone and ele
gant form, well worthy of a royal residence, repla
ced the old spinnet. That it should be displayed
to the best advantage, the young Queen determined
to give a concert, at which she commanded her in
structor and countryman, Gluck, the celebrated com
poser, to assist.
The new harpsichord was constructed by Siber
mann, with his latest improvements, and won the
admiration of all present. Amongst the guests
were the Duke of Lauzun and the Marchioness of
Milleroy.
. . . .
The praises bestowed upon the instrument made
the letter envious of its possessor, dispute the differ
ence in their position and rank; and she demanded
of the Duke de Lauzun a harpsichord of equal ex
cellence and external beauty, to that of the Queen.
The age of chivalry had not even then passed away,
and the lover was bound to obey the wishes of his
intended, be they ever so extravagant, but another
and perhaps stronger motive prompted him. He
saw that by complying with this request, a means
of mortifying her majesty—of, in fact, lessening her
popularity. He took care on every opportunity to
point general attention to the readiness with which
Maria Antoinette preferred the production of her
native to those of her adopted country. And he
undertook to prove, in the present instance, that this
preference was not guided by merit. In a short
time 4 he boasted, « I will produce an instrument of
French manufacture superior in tone and in mogul
cence of appearance to the vaunted importation of
the Queen." He possessed wealth, ingenuity and
perseverance; his boast was therefore not an idle
one.
The Duke made the tour of all the eminent man
ufactories in Paris, but found no one who had
enough of courage to undertake the seemingly im
possible task ho proposed; for all had heard of the
marvellous harpsichord of Sibermann. After near
ly giving up the pursuit in despair, he determined to
visit the manufactories of a humble trade. In one
of these, a young and intelligent journeyman hap
pened to overhear the offer made by the Duke to his
master, by whom it was declined. Ho started from
his seat, and, with a confident brow, declared he
would undertake the commission.
Thi Duke at first took little notice of the young
intim., but v.-en at length by his earnestness and
enthusiasm, consented to listen to a detail of the
improvements in the making of harpsichords, which
in addition to those of Sibermann, the new candi
date for his patronage proposed. With the leave of
his employer, Sebastian Erard (for it was he) has
tened to his lodgings for the drawings and notes he
had made of his new invention. An hour after
wards, he was closeted with the Duke at the resi
dence of the latter. His explanations were so satis
factory, Isis plans so manifestly practicable, that
Lauren immediately engaged him to make the re
quired instrument. A workshop was fitted up with
an expensive assortment of tools and materials in
the Duke's house, in which the young artisan em
ployed himself early and late.
His perseverance and industry were at length
crowned with success. When his work was fin
ished, that of decoration began. This was the first
instrument which had a moveable keyboard, shifted
by pedals, to modulate its tones at the will of the
pleyer—whieh had a soft and loud pedal. It was
in short, the first piano-forte. The Duke of de
Lauzun was delighted, and determined that no ac
cessary ornament should be wanting. Ile caused
it to be enclosed in a magnificent case of gilded
japan-work ; the pedals were surrounded by a my
thological group, exquisitely carved, from a design
by the sculptor Houdon ; whilst the profuse gilding
was in many places relieved by exquisite paintings
by Boucher, Grouse and Vauloo, the most celebra
ted artists of the day. Finally, the triumph of me
chanical skill was placed in the apartments of the
Marchioness of Milleroy, who gave a concert, which
the Queen condescended to attend.
The admiration lately excited by her majesty's
new German harpsichord was now completely
thrown into the shade by that expressed for the in
strument of native manufacture. The tones it gave
out from under the skilful fingers of Piccini, the
Italian composer, who was the first to play upon it.
blending exquisitely with the beautiful voice of the
Princess de Polignac, who he accompanied. The
I Queen herself was not less enchanted than the rest,
and unwittingly hastened on that triumph which
the malevolence of the 'Duke and Marchioness had
prompted them to anticipate.
" Pray," enquired the Queen of Lauzun, as she
broke up a group of detractors, of which he was the
most active and sarcastic, " to whose skill arc we
indebted for this charming instrument?"
To that, your majesty or a Frenchman," replied
the Duke; with as marked emphasis as he (lurid
assume.
~ H is name?"
.. Sebastian Erard."
"Indeed ! that is the person I have heard of be
fore," rejoined the Queen !
'• Unfortunately the names of a few meritorious
Frenchmen," retorted the Duke, laying a stress upon
the latter word, " aro known at the Court of Ver
sallies."
Without noticing this dieeortuos sneer, Mario
Antoinette inquired to whom the piano belonged.
Lauzun explained that it wee made by his direction,
and that he was the possessor.
" You," repeated the Queen, with the good-na
tined orchws, by which she woe always ready to
conciliate the most undeserved ill-will. "And pray
what use can a colonel of hussars make of so ele
gant, so lady-like an instrument V
The Duke replied with an affection of sentiment,
that music was his most cherished relief from the
cares of state and the fatigues of military duty.
The truth was, Marie was so charmed with the
instrument, that she longed to become its pcsiessor,
and demanded upon what terms Lauzun would part
with it. This was exactly the result he wished ;
and with every appearance of sorrowful humility,
he assured her majesty it was not in his power to
part with it.
" How so r she asked a little piqued. " Warm'
own, and --"
"It was mine yesterday," interrupted the Duke,
" but to-day it has become the property of -"
"Of whom 1" impatiently required the Queen.
Of the Marchioness de Milleroy," answerixl Lau
zen, with a low bow.
Where pleasure is the idol, and frivolity the pur
suit it takes but a trifling occurrence to create a
sensation. This was the case on the present occa
sion. The Queen, despising this equivocation,
turned quickly from the now triumphant courtier
and quitting the apartment abruptly, broke up the
party.
Enough, however, had been done to make the
fortune of Sebastian Erard. Next morning he was
sent for, to Versailes, and presented to her majesty,
who not only ordered from him a new piano -forte,
but obtained from the King a brevet, or patent, for
his ingenious improvements. Once honored with
Court patronage, the young artizan's early dreams
of ambition were speedily realized.
Meantime a circumstance occurred which exerci
sed an unfavorable influence over the career of the
Duke de Lauzun. Extravagance had so impaired
his fortune, that his union with the Marchioness de
Milleroy—herself by no means rich for her station—
was deferred till an appointment which he expected
to receive at the death of a relation should become
vacant. The command of the French Guards had
for a long period been vested in the chiefs of the
Duke's family, and his uncle, the Marshall de liken,
hitherto held the appointment. The Marshall died,
and Lauzun believed as a matter of course, besides
succeeding to the title (his uncle left no fortune,) he
would be invested with the vacant and lucrative
command. To his mortification, however he was
disappointed, and through as he afterwards learnt, the
influence of Marie Antoinette. From that moment
he changed his side in politics. 'f he first lowerings
of the revolutionary storm, which afterwards buret
with such appaling severify, had already clouded
the political horizon. He joined the opposition,
then headed by the Orleans family—he wrote pam
phlets against the Court—he composed epigrams
against the Queen—he satirized the nobility. In
short lie performed an active part towards exaspera
ting the populace against their rulers—towards
hastening the deplorable crisis, which had so fatal a
, termination.
During the progress of this terrible revolution, to
so insane a pitch was the popular indignation raised
against aristocracy, that to be nobly born was con
sidered a crime punishable with death. The King
and Queen were early victims; their supporters and
adherents followed. Lastly, even that action of the
nobility who in the beginning led the popular tu
mult were successfully led to the scaffold, The
Duke of Lauzun was one of the earliest sacrifices of
the popular nobility. He ended his carrccr under
the guillotine, leaving behind him the record of
only one meretorious action—and even that was
performed by accident, and out of pique—namely,
rescuing from unmerited obscurity the talents and
industry of Sabastain Erard.
The revolution had no other ill effect upon the
latter, than that of interrupting the operations of a
manufactory which hail rapidly grown to be the
most considerable in Paris. Sebastian Erard, re
spected by his fellow citizens, was entrusted by them
with a responsible municipal office. In executing
it, a part of his duty lay in restraining, as much as
was possible, the wholesale pillage that was going
on in all the residences of the king and nobility.—
He had occasion to hasten to Versailles for that
purpose, and found that most of the apartments had
been already ransacked without mercy. Those for
merly occupied by the Marchioness de Milleroy,
were, on his arrival, undergoing spoliation. "rho
first piano-forte" was still there. Rough hands had
already been laid upon it. His threats and entrea
ties were for a time vain ; but when the pillagers
heard his name, and the story of the instrument,
they desisted. The piano was unanimously ceded
to him ; and it is said that his decendants still pos.
seas several interesting relics of the first piano-forte.
An aged and venerable divine, who discovered
that a mischievous of his son had been racing his old
mare, scolded the young rogue in very severe terms,
and exhausted all his powers of reproof and repro
bation ; but in the conclusion could not resist the
tempetation to inquire how the race tegninated.—
" She beat 'cm," was the answer. "Ah !" said the
old gentleman, "she's a fine creature, Jim: when I
rode her, nothing could pass her on the road."
A New York editor says that the
I> iss mo if
you-dare bonnets" are all the fashion in the city of
Gotham. He seems to think they will be fatal to
many an old bachelor, because they make pretty
damsels look so tempting.
Why in a crying child at church like an whin;
tooth' Bccutt6c it ought to he taken
'3F3illucc)acat lOsco. 0i230130
Misery of a Bachelor's Life.
Poor fellow! he returns to his lodging—l will
not say his "home." There may be every thing he
can possibly desire, in the shape of mere external
comforts, provided for him by the officious zeal of
Mrs. —, his housekeeper; but still the room
has art air of chilling vacancy, the very atmosphere
of the apartment has a . dim, uninhabbited appear
ance—the chairs, set around with provoking neatness
look reproachfully useless and unoccupied—the ta
bles and other furniture shine with impertinent and
futile brightness. All is dreary and repelling. l'io
gentle face welcomes his arrival—no kind looks an
answers his listless gaze he throws round the apart•
1 meet. He sits down to a book—a2cme; there is no
one sitting by his side to enjoy with him the favo
rite passage—the apt remark—the just criticism; no
eyes in which to read his own feelings; his own
tastes are unappreaciated and unreflected ; he has nu
resource but himself—no one to look up to but him
self; all his happiness must emanate from himself,
He flings down the volume in despair; hides his face
in his hands, and sighs aloud, 0! me miscrum.—
Port/awl Tribune.
Taut Fastsic Noaturr.—The woman, poor
and if ill clad as she may be, who blanches her in
come and expenditure—who toils and sweats in
unrcpining mood among her well-trained children,
and presents them, morning and evening as offer
ings of love to her husband, in rosy health and
cheerful cleanliness, is the most exalted of her sex.
Before her shall the proudest dame bow her jewelled
head, and the bliss of a happy heart dwell with her
forever. If there is one prospect dearer than another
to the soul of man—if there is one aet more likely to
bend the proud and inspire the broken hearted—it
is for a smiling wife to meet her husband at the
door with his host of happy children. How it stirs
up the tired blood of an exhausted man, when he
hears the rush of many feet upon the staircase--
when crow and carrot of their young voices, mix in
glad confusion—and the smallest mounts or sinks
into his arms amidst a mirthful shout. God ! it
was a hallow front every countenance that beamed
around the group. There was a joy and a blessing
there.—London Journal.
SNARLIECO-For a man to enjoy himeelf,he must
take the world as it is, mixed up with a thousand
shades and a thousand spots of sunshine--a cloud
here and there; a bright sky ; a storm to-day, and a
calm to-morrow ; the chill piercing winds of autumn,
and the bland reviving breath of summer. He
should realize too, that he is surrounded by individ.
uals of different dispositions and characters, and
take the mass as they are, and not as he fancies
they ought to be. He should look up to heaven in
gratitude for what ho enjoys, and not censure God
for what he has not granted. Then he will cease
fretting and snarling and not before. If there is one
character on earth who deserves the appelation of
fool more than another, it must be that person who
continually frets and snarls and never sees a mo
ment's peace, while surrounded with everything to
please and instruct—Portland Argus.
Pooa OLD 13 c ELORS:In cold weather bathe-
Tors are entitled to much sympathy. A portion of
their miseries in winter has boon thus graphically
described by a member of the rusty fraternity:
" For a man of phlegmatic temperament—a
bachelor—it requires a mighty effort to go to bed of
a cold and freezing night—a mightier to turn over
when he gets there—but the mightiest of all to get
up again Before he goes, lie warms and turns,
and tams and warms—pokes his toes to the lire and
then his heels—rots his hands—bakes his shins—
and then sneaks off to bed.—Then if a shank hap.
pens to stray over the linen, six inches from the
warns place where it was originally planted, ho
snatches it back as though it were snake bitten. But
when day comes--when the breakfast dishes begin
to rattle on the table—hero we must be excused, for
'tis no joke.
Neon° Seaswerrass.--A gentleman sent hie
black servant to purchase fish. He went to the stall.
and taking up a tiah, began to amen it. The fish.
monger observing him, and fearing the bystanders
might catch the scent, exclaimed, " Hallo ! you
black rascal, what do you smell my fish for 1" "Mn
no smell your fish mass." " What are you doing
then, sir?" " Why me talk to himontisita." "And
what do you say to the fish, ch r Why what
news at sea—dot's all, mama." And what does he
say to you ?" Ile says he don't know ;he no been
dar deco tree weeks !"
" John, you've been edging about and lolling
around here every Sunday evening for a great while
—what can you be arter 1" " Why, dear Sally,
didn't you know that I was arter you?" " Lack-a
day ! John—why I thought it was tae that was arter
you; so come and let's both be after the paean,
right ott"
Do not enter a room suddenly, says the spirit of
the Age, where you know there is a young lady
and gentleman sitting, busily engaged in fanning a
flame. Of course not; if you do, you will stifle
the name, and be sure to meet with a cool reception.
Isn't it so girls]
In Asia, there is one newspaper for every fourteen
millions of inhabitants; in the United thates, one
for every ten thousand.
a Those are hard timer, indeed," as the man said
when he was turned out of jail berallt, 111: , trr4jlol,
could not pay his jail fews,