BY IHEYERS A: BEDFORD. WHOLE NO. 2777. VOL .53. Select Poc t r 11. The Well-Digger. AN OWEU-TRI E BALLAD. BY JOHN G. SAXE. Come, listen all, while 1 relate What recently betel Unto a farmer down in Maine, A While digging of a well. Full many a "lay tie dug and delved, And still tie vaii.; "Alack!" quoth he, '-e'en water seerns A Prohibited in Maine!" still he dug and delved away, And still the was dry ; 9'Hprrrhe only water to be found Was in the tanner's eye: For by the breaking of the bank That tumbled from Its Marion, All suddenly his hope was dashed Of future liquidation! And row hi? sands were running fast, And he had died, no doubt, Hut that juyt when the earth caved in, lie happened to be out! "Aha!—l have a happy thought!" Exclaimed this wicked man— "To dig anew this cursed well • A 1 see a pretty piur. : hide me straight, and when my wife And neighbors know What's bajPfel lo my digging here, They'll think that I'm below! "And >o, to save rny precious life, They'll dig the well, no doubt, Jven deeper than 'twas dug at lirst, Before they hud meout!" And so he hid him in the barn Through all the hungry day, To bide the digging ot hu well In this deceillu! way. But list what grief and shame befel The false, ungrateful man, The while he slyly watched to see The working ol his plait: The neighbors all with one accord I nto each other said : "With such a weight of earth above, The man is suiely dead." And then the wife, with pious care, All needless cost to save, iiaid—"Since the Lord hath willed it so, Jp i-.'e" let it be las grave!" [From Forney's Press.] THE SONt-U RITERS OF ENGLAND BY v 11A It LBS MACKAY. Dr. Mackay opened Ins second lecture, on Saturday, by saying that his lecture should be devoted' exclusively to English song-writers. There w ere no records of'ancient English poets. A The rude songs ol those limes referred to war 1 and heroes, and had all perished except such as V McPherscrs had gathered together, and rendered in his peculiar Vityle, as the Songs of Ossian. All the tradition® V the Celts were embaimed in Saxon song. King Arthur and King Cole still found favor. The King Arthur of history was hut a mythical dream, while the King Ar thur of poetry was a living reality. During the early Norman period the min strels played a veiy important part in every sphere ot life. They combined the occupation of modern editor and reporter with that of musician and song-writer, giving all the latest news, and putting into verse tile late horrible murders, NiC. Rum: Hood and the Babes m the Wood are ot unknown origin. I'lie utter" has made the Robin Red-breast sacred in Eng land, and he who kilted ot;e of tliein would be hated by every body. If these little birds knew how many of them have escaped death, through the instrumentality of tins simple ballad, they would warble the praise of the au thor daily. /Prewti ng the art of printing were the rial my f days of mnstrelsy. Richard J- couldnot write his own fume. (Query, Hume savs he wrote poetry.) Nobles did not think it a sham- to be unable to rnj or write. It is said that Richard owed his rel-ase from imprisonment to a ballad which he had composed and sung. When printing was invented, minstrels began to de cline, and very soon thev were classed among strolling actors, and termed strolling vagrants. A>new era of song-writers opened. Chaucer was the m3st prominent. He sang "Merrie England" amid wars and pestilence. B-for- Chaucer a gentleman was incomplete unless h could sing and write. Old songs sold at a pen ny a yard—about live hundred fr a half-per riy. H-nry \ll could find time between fighting with Poj.es and su .jects to write songs. But few songs of this period are extant ; this was but the twilight of an era—the dawn aid daylight were yet to come. When politics were finally settled, (iav | ight ap|M . ared . Sp , :l . ser and began to shed forth a new light. There ar* a great number of old balla.is of this period, too numerous l 0 mention— one commencing "Women are best When they are at rf lyrical poetry lived to be immortal. Mill'", Waller, and Dry den succeeded Shakspeare. Milton excelled the rest, becausehe was a musician as well as poet. He mighlhave been a great song-writer: bnt he is too gre.t, too grand, to produce auc tion we admtr*. revere him. Italian sweet ness mixed with English strength needed little to shake them ir.o melody. Cow lev did n: excel, had 110 melody, could not distinguish, I'ke Woidsworth, one tune from another; 'is verses were very rugged. Dryden's were better adapted to music, hut not to decent sciety. He belonged to a had and degraded mod—the Restoration. Men felt it aliuty as well as pleasure to imitate all the vices of otlvrs. Virtue was a jest. The onlv maiilv vine was personal courage. Po etry was 'consered aitificial, not natural it disappeared and rhyming Lok its place. Prior wrote lit sell down as a tmtor to poe. try ; he was a >ady, anil wrote myine. Few so'mrs of" this period are wnrti preserving. "When this ol< cap was new" Lhowed lorlh that peculiar ritish art of grutiiiing, which the Puritans hrtight across the wean. The period i Paganism succe-ded tiiat of unblushing vie. Ev.ry lover wk a shepherd, anti every lass *i Arcadian she pi .f dess. I here was no such ting as love in iitei.ture. .\iar- was refe ed to as the hviiytiial ailai breezes Were C.led zephyrs iue liion Luna . women, \ enu- Bacchus, tile goifof drunken ness, was fbrevr appealed to by til' poet>. to take Care by !he neck and him in a punch-bowl. Henry Gary, a good musician! but a poor poet, liv : ed a'i'it this time. To hi*. the world owes the sruiol tn ire than thiee hut Ired songs. The music of ■Cod save the is attribut ed to him, thogh some claim the credit for a Dr. John Bel, of the Elizabethan era. ]t ns, howevt, most probab!" that Cirey wrote though (heig a Jacobite) he wai tot allow ed to sing it. He committed suicide! n agarret at an advanceiage. Pope, Gay,aid Collins were esculent poets of a later pf/otf. Tom Duffy also wiote a great many sags, anil King Charles [I walked arm in arm wth him through the pas, Insdogs and courtier* following—the only! instance where such alislioiruisherf [-rivilegefi-as ever granted to a sng-writer. (jay, the aithor of "The l>eggar|tOpera" and "Black Ey Susan," never wrote avthing more popular tfie latter. It is ing more than any otheisong in England, and jk>o these two ijis fame pfiocipui ly rests. David Gaiick, thougii iAt a soife-writer wrote a sea sot g, which ;sa .Ws suia before English sailorsengage in any '.ilion,ail which lias inspired tiem to so many Vleeds L noble daring. Thorson, author of tThe SJisons," wrote "Hole 'Britannia," the ■ isicot- which was compose!/ by Dr. Arne, I nirnas 'ercv, editor of ■•Pfcy's Reliipi-s," 1 | J a te-r, wrote "Oil wilt thou go V |h 1n ,,? con . sidered by mens the best in thl Englisf lan guage. ( lUS. Di.)-I*ll \\' >on<*s wt r.-ol the ofc an, ,-alty. Thes lor is the na tional hero iii2aoland—the s:4di r ranks below him. Nelson was greater thai Wellington. Dibden repreWited to the very ife the sailor, and his songs! :heered their heart, and in manv instances que]-d mutinies. His "Torn Bow- ' ling" is con stem! by some vuigi, but I tl ink i it is far from it on tb- contrary, ita full of true I manly feeling which louci.es t;4 heart with kindness. Asa proof of DiWeii| popularity, the Governor^.t reprinted his wuft some years ago—the only instance of the kul on record. He Jelt a son .ho followed close|| m his foot steps. His sr.igs were in piaise i (he lut|e Island he, likeail other Fugli-CmA so dearly loved, little thmgh it he. Campbell Wis one ol toe best Ing-vvriters. "Iloheiiiinden"Exile <>t Biiij ivx., are enough togivianv man lame. 1 ■ love soni's i were not so .sutvssful. "GertrudeolV v iming" may perish sotier or later, but hisivar songs will live as kpg as England and Aili ica exist. ; Capt. .M >r:s, who w rote u.ti hundred j songs, Thos. Siley, who vrote ej.rtf hundred, ought to be nJhtioned. Toe cat,tail sang his own songs at j e royal table and th •; beeisteak club. He wiie for a class, not I mil- people and his songsjhve perished with it. |Had good intentions, buj i.tent ions do riot 'na# a poet. His songs areafete—dead—buried, j| Bailey's relations is mort solid; H- was railed Untterfl Bailev, on account fa song of that name b wrote —some .-all e was a butterfly. Hi love songs were latk.-fti-ical redolent of peiumed handkerchief*, vjfhite kid gloves, &.C. 1-. M. concluded his If ore bv the recitation; < a little original po-i, which, though not reti ring to the lecture, blcnged to the subject of ugland. It WAS ENTITIW "THE PRIMROSE," an was founded on the billowing little incident: There are n primroses in Austrlii, and, some time ngo.t was announced that prim rose had arri-d at Melbourne er.oi -d m a glass case—at) a great turnout foil ve ( | to see it. The ctvvd was so great that th police with difficulty ,aite room to allow • to be landed withoutlanger of being cms d. It was aflerwanlseit on exhibition, and fought a handsome s|i to its possessor. It flowed the love of hoie and country so strong* cha racteristic irvtb English, and be wood pre sent it as such. Ma who courted an inve|ig6tion, says it isn't lialas good as an aflectioilMgirl. We presume n. k BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY MORNING, JANUARY 1, 185a "MKBItIIIN SHOES '' He have seen j tl an ephemeral news paper paragraph, M , ere , s a|| inscri . )tioi , () „ a tombstone in a a w yard, which runs thus, M D.ed of Thin Shoes." As we do not put ,/L,. con{idente in the j truth of all the paragSfo;, igour ivjWe t() j peruse, we are willing c lC ede that this may i be so or may not be so. It, kes no , ndtler ._l j "Died of thin shoes," , ij?hl , (hH h onest and ! veracious epitaph on th.usai,. of tomt)storn , s j that bear a widely differ.,UOn The beautiful j and crowded cemeteries, p*r. I | ar iy ) lv |uch ! are to he lound in the vie .nag* al | " )Ur A „ w . \ ncan cities, contain scores got \ ims tf) ,| lin j shoes, lying in their cold, unw. n , r j Our town ladies, as everybody ut are | considerably more careful about tl CO stlin.-ss j and elegance, than about the sense utility of their apparel. We meet thetn on . , )U^|lC street, arrayed as sumptuously and * v j| v ~s if they weie on the floor of a brillianthhr. r J u ,j, or at a fashionable and guv assembly. One feels an irresistible inclination .( ire ! at the bedizened creatures as they lingly by. Jt is vulgar and rude to stare. u( how is one to restrain one's self fioin iiavi,, ; pe. pal the fine sights? But the dainty fee, our dashing belles are especially sacrificed the altar, which, alas, is reared in almost evei \ V female heart that beats in this latitude. Thoa day may be a moist and rainy one. The pave, may be covered with water or chequered with puddles, or very damp indeed. Vet everv lit tle moderately minute,or big foot which is cun* ningly exposed to the entranced vision of the pedestrians ol the other sex, will lie encased in a delicate gaiter, or slipper the sole of which is from one sixteenth to on- tenth of an inch in thickness! In such flimsy shoes the worse than silly young women tramp around, "At all hours of the day. And in ail kinds of weather." Thev go out to spend the evening, whether at a parlor party or a public entertainment, in gossamer pedal attire, such as there would he some excuse for wearing if they had to tread on nothing hut a dry and soft Brussels carpel, and would be exposed to no fitiul draughts ot vari ously tempered air. By-and-bv a cold is con torted, which grows heavier and more alarm ing as it is dallied with and disregarded. Con sumption, with all its distresses and terrors fol lows, and there is one more ebbing life, and one more early grave fiiied by the victim ol thin shoes. There is no fancy sketching about this. It is a fact which a legion of the sons of St. Crispin could attest that American women and particu larly our young ladies, are constantly in the ha bit of wearing shoes so light, as to he almost in stantaneously penetrated with water. And we verily believe that these miserably thin things are, in a great measure, responsible for the fear ful inroads, which are yearly made bv that fell destroyer, consumption, upon trie ranks of the feminine population of our great cities. Why can't our ladies imitate their sensible English sisteis, and wear stout, substantial wholesome shoes, when th-y leave the house, even at the risk of never hearing the smothered exclama tion "Heaven ! what a foot !" nor the com mon place compliments of the ball-room, which are bestowed upon the owners of screwed and pinched, but "tiny, tripping" feet?— Boston Journal. THE GRAVE. Oh, the grave ! the grave ! It buries every error, covers every defect, extinguishes every resentment. From its peaceful bosom spring none but regrets and tender recollections.— Who can look down upon the grave even ol an enemy, and not feel a compunctuous throb, that ever he should have vvatred with the poor handfull ol earth that lies mouldering before him. Hut the graves of those we loved; what a place lor meditation ! Then it is that we call up, in long review, the whole history and {vir tue arid gentleness, and the thousand endear ments lavished upon us almost unheeded in the daily intercourse of intimacy, then it is that we dweli upon the tenderness ot the parting scene, the bed of death with all its stilled griels, its noiseless attendants, • its mute, watchful assid uities, I lie last testimonies of expiring love, the f'eetile, fluttering, thrilling, oh ! low thrilling the pressure of that hand, the fond look ol the glazing eye, turning upon us even from the threshold ol existence, tire faint, (altering ac cents, struggling in death to give one more assurance ol aflection. Ay, go to the grave of buried love, arid medi tate ! There settle the accounts with thy con science for every past benefit unrequited—en dearment unregarded ofthat departed being who can never, never return to be soothed by thy contrition ! If thou art a child, and hast ever added a sor row to the soul or a furrow to the silver blow of an affectionate parent, ll thou art a husband and hast ever caused the fond bosom that ven tured us whole happiness in thy arms, to doubt one moment of tliv kindness or truth. II thou art a friend, and ever wronged, in thought, word or deed, the spirit that generously confided in thee: if thou art a lover, and hast ever given one unmerited pang to that true heart that now lies cold and still beneath thy feet : then be sure that every unkind look, every ungracious word, every ungentle action, veil! come throng ing back upon thy memory, knocking dolefully at thv soul ; then be sure that thou wilt lie down soriowiug and repentant on the grave, and utter the unavailing tear, more bitter because unheard and unavailing. Then weave thy chaplet of flowers, strew the beauties of nature about the grave, console thy broken spirit, if thon canst, with these tender yet futile tributes of regret ; but take warning by the bitterness of this thy contiite affliction over the dead, and be more faithful and affec tionate in the discharge of thy duties to the liv ing.— Irving Freedom of Thought and Opinion. I DESCRIPTION OF THE GI'LF STREAM The general description of the Gulf Stream is that of a vast, and rapid ocean current, issu ing from the basin of the Mexican Gulf and ( nribbean sea, doubling the Southern Cape of I lorida, pressing forward to the North East, In a line almost parallel to the American coast ; touching 011 the southern borders of the hanks of New Foundland, and at some seasons par tially passing over them ; thence, with increas ing width and diffusion, traversing the whole breadth of the Atlantic, with a central direc tion towards the British Isles : and finally los iit?, itself by still wider diffusion in the Bay of Biscay, on our own shores, and on the long line of the Norwegian coast. Its identity in physical character is preserved throughout the many thousand miles of its continuous flow ; j the only change undergone is that of a degree, j As its waters gradually commingle with those j of the surrounding sea, their deep blue tint de-. chnes, their high temperature diminishes, and j the speed wjth which they press forward abates. j But taking the stream in its total course, it j well warrants the name of a "river in the! ocean. Ibis epithet is, in truth, singularly ! appropriate to this vast current, so constant i and continuous in its course, and so strangely j detached from the great mass of ocean waters, I 'hich. while seemingly clel't asunder to give i nth to its first impulse, are yet ever pressing ! nan it, gradually impairing its force and ties- i p.ving its individuality. I ' he maximum of velocity where the stream aC* the narrow channel Rimini— which coin- : j|fo*s its egress from the Gulf—is about lour I* an hour: off Cape Hattera, in North W' a ! where it has gained a breadth of! Tg-five miles, its velocity is reduced to On the parallel of the New j|| tl Banks, it is larther reduced to one ! ' j.'TLlf miles an hour, and this gradual I '„ t qM 'f force is continued across the At- j ' d r MV e e,,, f > ** ra * ure * °' '''e current on- , '"m'imilar change. The highest ob- j ■ I jj rVe m l '' 8b deg. Fah. Between Cape i j 3 ' l r ' Foundland, though lessen- I er ut ar< W'- l | 1 e warmth of the stream in w i.i.e r j ()r above that V' '' ' p C 'TI' !I Jh which it flows.—Eilin burgh Aero*. 3 iIISINEs|L ITS (jp AAROX HI RR. I r - ailon work on Burr gives the ; following;ketd>Y ll:uly habits in the lat-! ; ter part ot his lit* u> , |u . author l#y J a gentleman who* ,• • r>,,„ : w : some time in ntiirs office : T| * '1" at t.i>' A breakfast of an egg and a cup of Ct ®j U !ficed fur this mo-t a slemious cl m"nL r he worked among his papeis fi :|L ,- n||H before his clerk | and assistants arrived., as a hard task-master ■ lie "kept us all upon ju l;l p. All day he ! was dispatching and 1 messages, sending i lor nooks, persons ami expecting every I command to he obeyed n-xt to impossible | celerity, inspiring ev vvi!ll hjs ow . n zeal, and getting a surpr.l quantity of work accomplished. "He wa incarnate," said my informant. Abo<; n j„ the evening ; lie would give over, invit-j s companions to | to the sideboard, and take a r| a ss of wine. , Then his spirits would rise"i h Z wou |d s jt I ( for hours telling stories ol pa>( an j drawing brief and graphic stches of cele hiated characters with had acted. Often he was lull of vit at a j Hv a , suc h i limes, "the liveliest fellowmfje world:"! '•as merry as a boy "ne* melancholy" I never ill-natured." About or | a ter. ! lie would lie down upon a j n ! corner of his office, and sleep li H (.{jjjp until i the morning. Jn his personalty was | a thorough going Spartan eatin t t|e drink ing little, sleeping little, He' was fond of calculating upon how a || a surn j i life could be supported, and vised think he ; could live well enough upon seven: V e cents ' a week. A GUILTY ( O.VSCIK.NCI One of the most memorable pass;. e yer ■ ; littered by Mr.-Webster, was in vindiu n of the authority of conscience and of Pro. nc , on a trjal for a dark and mysterious 'der. "The guilty soul cannot keep its own ret. I Jt is false to itself, or rather it feelsan irqj. I ble influence to he true to itself. It | der guilty possessions, and knows not ,t to do with it. The human heart was not rt ; for the residence of such an inhabitant, finds itself preyed upon bv a ;torment whic, does r.ot acknowledge to God or man. A vi lure is devouring it, and it can ask no svmpall on earth. The secret which the murder i possesses, soon comes to possess him : and li j the evil spirit of which we read, it overcom him, and lead* him whithersoever it will. He feels it beating at his heart, rising to his | throat and demanding disclosure. He thinks I the whole world sees it in his lace, reads it in his i eves, and almost hears its workings in the very j silence of his thoughts. It has become his mas- I ter. It betrays his discretion, it breaks down j his courage, it conquers his prudence. When j suspicions from without begin to einbarass him and the net of circumstances to entangle him, the fatal secret struggles with still greater vio lence to burst forth. It must be confessed ;it wilt be confessed ; there is no refuge from con fession but suicide; and suicide is confession." STF"''Fellow-sinners," said a preacher, "if you were told that, by going to the top of those stairs, yonder"—pointing to a rickety pair at an end of the church—"you might secure your eternal salvation, I really hardly beliew any of you would try ; but let any man proclaim there j were a hundred dollars up there for you, and I'll ! guarantee there would be such a getting up I stairs as you never did see." 8JF""I am going to draw this beau into a knot," as the lady said when standing at the ' hymeneal altar. ORIGINAL ANECDOTE OF GEN. JACK SON. In one of our Indian campaigns, which, not recollected, nor material to our story, whilst the army was on its march, still in TVnnpsspp, on its way to the seme of war in AaTLama, a drafted company was expected daily to over j take the main body of troops. This company at length reached the rear of the train. Information of their approach was immedi- I ately carried to I fie front, where Jackson was iat the time. A s the messenger passed from | rear to front, the fact that the company was without arms, having (eft their guns at home, j was made known all along the line. It was kown to the entire army before it reached Jack- I son's ears. Curiosity was on tiptoe to know i how the irascible commander would act under : such circumstances. A storm was anticipated. ! Soon the General was observed making his way rapidly to the rear, and to (he surprise of all parties, seemingly in rather a mood. Finally he met the company. lie saluted them. They look for a volley of course, and an immediate dismissal home—the very thing they desired. Not so, however. Old Hick ory pulled off his hat, and with the politest and lowest bow, expressed his gratification at their arrival, and especially at the fact that they had no arms. Forming them for rapid motion, at double quick step, under his own lead, they marched on till a baggage wagon was reached then halted, and each man furnished with an axe. Forward march again was the word. As they passed along the line of march the General's object was seen, and laughter loud and uprnrious with many a hearty cheer, salut ed tiiPinas they made their way to the front. There these axe men were at once initiated into their campaign duties. They cleared the roads, they bridged tlie creeks, or carried the wagons piece by piece, the baggage, ammunition, Stc. over on their hu< k,, bridges were impassi ble. T hey were ever in a post or u., h .., irig the burdens of the campaign—sharing none of its honors—the laughing stock of the whole army. A True Sportsman. One of tiie New York Herald's correspond ents has met in the Far West with that great Irish sportsman Sir George Gore, whose hunt ing adventures in the Rocky Mountains con j ducted as they were upon a gigantic scale for ! : the amusement of one man, probably exceeded anything of the kind ever before attempted on this side the Atlantic. Everythingthat a sports ma could possibly require, in ttie way of shoot ing, fishing, eating and drinking, was provided in the greatest profusion, ami all tiansported in safety to the theatre of his exploit. He says : Some faint idea mav he formed of the magni tude of his equipment when I tell you that his ; extensive retinue contained a secretary, assis tant secretary, clerk, guide, llv-maker, hunters, cooks, &.C., &.C., in all numbering about fifty men, with thirty wagons, numerous saddled hors>'s, dogs, &.c., and supplies to correspond. Sir George leinained nearly three years in this | country, and, with the exceptions of one winter, which he spent near Fort Laramie, was entirely ; secluded from the world, and most assiduously j engaged in his favorite sport of hunting. An | accurate account of the amount of game "bag ! ge00 buflaloes, besides numerous elk, I black-tailed deer and antelope—in all amount i ing to the enormous aggregate of three thousand | animals, none of which was smaller than the antelope. i 1 had the pleasure of meeting this modern 1 Nimrod in St. Louis, and was highly entertain j ed with a narration of his exploits, which aimosl | equal those of Gordon Cumming in Africa. He also showed me his equipment of beanti i ful guns of various patterns and calibres, suited ; !o the destruction of all kinds of game from a j snipe to a grisly bear, and among them lobserv i ed the names of Prudy, Manton, and other cel ebrated makers. His outfit must, indeed, have i been most complete. After becoming cloyed with sport in the ! mountains, and killing every variety of the largest and most formidable animals found there, Sir George proposes to winter in Texas, and amuse himself in hunting deer and other small game. He brings with him a host of trophies which will furnish him ample vouchers for liispeifor ; mances. 1 Some of our worthy and staid citizens of 'Gotham will probahlv think it a very singular ''infatuation lor a gentleman possessing a pi ince- Tt V estate, with an income of §200,000 per ari to voluntaiilv withdraw from all society, nes j incarcerate himself in the depths of the Iderness among savage men and beasts for "e long years, exposed to all perils and pri | ons consequent upon such a condition. THE SIZE OF MAN | : s a vet v common opinion that, in the I eaages of the world, men in general jes ses; superior physical properties, and were of ger size than at present. But all the facts! circumstances that can be brought forw.on this subject tend to show that the humaorm has not degenerated, and that men ce present age are of the same stat ure as he beginning of the world. 1 bus, i ail the ains of the human body, the bones, j and parlarlv the teeth, which have been . found uanged in the moat ancient urns and bui places, demonstrate this point i clearly, e oldest coflin in the world is that founuthe great pyramid of Egypt : and this sarcopus hardly exceeds the slZ e of our j ordinary ct,being six feet and a half long. That we arrt degenerating fiom the effects of civilizatio clear, because the savages do not exceed u height. U^Hope-sentiment exhibited in a dog's tail when war for 8 bone. TERMS, PER YEAR. NEW SERIES VOL l r NO. 22. " 1 Cj nin or on s. t Not Had t> 'First class in oriental philosophy stand up. ! Thihitts, what is life V i 'Lite consists ol money, a hoss and a fashiona . ble wife.' r 'Next. What isdeath V 'A paymaster, who settles everybody Ydebts, . and gives the tombstones as receipts in full of - all demands.' i 'What is poverty ?' . 'The reward ot merit genius generally ;e --ceives from a discriminating public.' 'What is religion ?' 'Doing unto others as you please without al lowing a return of the compliment.' 'What is fame V 'A six-line pufTina newspaper while liv ing, and your fortune to your enemies when dead.' BOUND TO RIDE. —Two juveniles (says the N. O. Picayune,) belonging to that particular class of the unwashed who, in the absence of either tickets or sma 11 change, are prone to accomplish short journeys on the tail-boards of omnibuses, were recently traveling up Camp-street, occt>- pying their tavorite place on one of the vehi cles, when, by the sudden opening of the door, one of them was knocked heels over head into the mud. He picked himself up quickly how ever, and in a moment he had regained his old place—addressing his companion with : "I say, Jim, they'se no business to have these cussed doors on the homnibuses, but yer see wat acci dents they cause to passengers. Tse in hopes they'll make some improvements in the build ing ov 'em, so 'twill be more safer for us, but I'm bound to ride any how." SWAPPING WIVES.—The Hightstown (New Jersey) Excelsior says : "We were told by a friend of ours, a few days since, of a most singu lar result of the propensity to trade. A colored St ate came SSiu!" rom a distant part of the and, before departing, they v, s-U.9.?I ls ri . en£ !, s ' enamored of each other's partners. In lni state of affairs, a proposition toexchange wives was made, which, mutually agreeable, was ac ted upon without further consideration. The visitor returnedjhome with a new wife, and the generous host acknowledged it a "fair swap," while his new cnrnsposa has furnished him in dubitable evidence of her earnestness in the matter. KpTr was at a pic-nic : Charley had just turned of nineteen years : he wandered away and got lost with Kate Harcourt, a sell-possessed beautv in high condition for tlirting, for she had had three seasons of hard training. When they had been away from their party about two hours, she felt, or pretended to feel, the awk wan .less of their situation, and asked her cav alier, in a charmingly helpless and confiding way, what they were to do. 'Well, I hardly know,' said Charley, languidly ; 'but I don't mind proposing to you, if that will do you any good.' A fair perlormance for an untried colt, was it not ?— Guy Livingston. Ofp""Sam, how are all the folks at home ?" "Oh so middling, only mothpr fell off the hay loft the other morning and broke her arm." "Is it possible!" "True, but that wasn't the worst : she had three eggs in her hand and broke all but two!" OTP^Teacher —"How many kinds of axes are there ?" Boy— "Broad axe, narrow axe, post axe, axe of the Legislature, axe of the Apostles, and ax my pa!" Teacher—"Good! go to the head of your class 1" f£p*Miss Brown, I have been to learn how to tell fortunes," said a young man to a brisk brunette. "Just give me your hand, if you please." "La, Mr. White, how sudden you are ! Well, go ask pa. 0!P"A ladv was requested by a bachelor who was somewhat advanced in years, to take a seat on his lap while in a crowded sleigh.— "No thank von," said she, "I'm afraid such an old seat would break down with me." Old bachelor looked funny. Qp"i am not afraid of a barrel of cider," said a toper to a temperance man. "I presume not," was the reply ; "from your appearance, I guess a barrel of cider would run at your approach." Qp-Fn Eye ENTERS of concerts who are in the habit of beating time with their feet, are re minded that the stamp act was repealed many years ago. QjP"WHAT is the difference between a woman who tears her dress and one who pads ? One busts her stuff, and the other stuffs her bust. [CP* THE W es'.ern papers say that the Illinois River has lowered a foot. When it lowers the other foot, we suppose it will cease to run. l£p"At a husking frolic "down east," lately two hundred bushels of golden yellow corn were husked, forty-eight girls kissed, one couple mar ried, and seven more "engaged," all in one even ing. Talk of stagnation in business! KP*"Of the six hundred and twenty young lidies who fainted last year, more than half of them fell into the arms of gentlemen. Only three had the misfortune to fall on the floor. Op 5 " A popular preacher received so many., pairs of slippers from the female part .of, hr 1 congregation that he got to himself centipede. j/f IXP*Pants procured on tick ' ed'breches of tru