THE BEDFORD GAZETTE II RCAU-HED nvEiiY FIIIUAY MORSI.NO I B1 52. I\ IMEYKIIB, Ai tb lolloping term*, to win $1.60 per annum, CASH., in advance. jj_oo '< ' if paid within the year. j fi.6o " " 'f not P a within the year, j ruhscription taken lor less than six months. ! (j3"\\'o paper discontinued until ail arrearages , ,ra pa id . unless at the option of the publisher, it has seen decided by the United States Courts that (lis stoppage of a newspaper without the payment ,! arrearages, is prima facit evidence ol fraud and is a criminal^offence. gyThe courts have decided that persons e.re ac countable for the subscription price of newspa pers, if the) take them from the post oificr, wbetn- j r they subscribe for them, or not. <D rigi na I |3 011 r5. j OLD MEMORIES. j.Y [mi.] My youthful love, do you remember When we eat 'neath the linden tree ?■— "fwas early in n fair September, , Thou all the world was bright to me. There oft we met when stars were glowing O'er out- heads in evening sky, While at our feet the river flowing In gentle ripples murmured by. The old tree seemed to smile with pleasure, Warn we were 'neath its ample boughs: ; The golden rnoofi from heuvpn's azure The* only witness of our vows. Put soon the light of love was clouded And sorrow took the place of joy; Our early hopes in gloom were shrouded And life was but a sad alloy. Since then long years of pain have vanished, , Die leaves are stripped front off that troo, Our early griefs have all been banished, An 1 once again our hearts are tree. The future still is bright before us, Its clouds roll back before the sun, The present hangs its banners o'er us And we'll love on till life is done. © v t 9 i it a I IE a I e • THE INFIDEL'S TOMB. L;Y DR. C. S. IIIOKOK. I There now stands, or did a few years ago in the days of stage coach travel, beside the great \ .State road leading from the city of !' to j .that of C , about four miles from the liter- ■ .urv villago of N , in the "Buckeye State," I an edifice, if it can with propriety be so termed, I tto which the eye of the passing traveller Is of- J ten directed, on account ol' the singularity of its ! .oonstruction, :is well as the no less singular story associated with it. The "tomb" is enclosed by a high ntel mas- j five wall, built of bricks, with abutments and j clippings of stone, and an entrance through a ; gateway of iron, securely set between two of the j ponderous abutments, with which each corner,, .and the centers of the intermediate stretches of J masonry are braced. If the enclosure presents a singular and an- i liquc appears nee, the architecture of the "tomb" : itself does not tend to diminish the effect which j the view of its surroundings creates at first sight. • It iH built of a light gray stone, peculiar to that region, in that grotesque form, which the union j of the Doric with the Gothic stylo always pre sents. The main part of the structure is a sim ple, oblong square, relieved on the ends, corners and rides, by disproportionately heavy pilasters, resting upon a broad foundation of hewn stone, and surmounted by one entire slab of huge di mensions. From this surface there arise live pyramids, or obelisks, each bring one solid block of stone, sta; ting wide and square at the hasp, and gradually decreasing in size unlil it termi nates in a point. One of these much larger than ] the rest, stands in the renter of the table; the others being placed upon cither corner. I pon the central one is carved in bold, rude charac ters, simply the name and age of tne occupant. In the latter pari of the summer of 18—T started out on an excursion of pleasure, during H college vacation that was too brief to permit me to visit my far distant home. It was near the closo of a hot, sultry afternoon. Nearly all my fellow stage passengers had yielded to heat and weariness, an 1 were napping it away, most luslilv. I was just on the point of following their example, when we were all aroused by an exclamation from my next companion, a real, oiigir.nl yankce, who had fully proven his claim to the title, by his volubility during the day. It was the "tomb" that attracted his attention. "Look'c thar, young man," he said, "I guess you never henrn tell on a eur'ouser look in' con sarn than that is yonder. That thar thing they call the inferdcl's tomb, and the old feller that's lierried thar was more'n a hunderd year old, and as wicked as sin, and he bilt all that ar big pile o' stun his self, and put that nr big, ongain ly lookin' wall beout it, I've hear'n say, jest to keep the devil cout." This speech, although 1 was inclined to make full allowance to the author for that love of the marvellous, so characteristic of his race, which would naturally lead him fo omit nothing that WAR wonderful, in his description of the object, to which ho directed my attention, excited my curiosity not a little, and when I tell my reader that my own ancestors, at no very remote peri od, were yankces, and that very little of their "provincial virtue,"'curiosity, had been lost In its descent to mo, and moreover that I was a youth, at the novel loving age of sixteen, he will not be surprised that. I, with prouth, eyes and cars wide open, eagerly listened to what my com panion this curious structure. V01A.1115 SH. NEW SERIES. Who \v;is ho ?—What was his name?— Where was he from?— Where did he die?— Did he re ally build that tomb?,—Cun't you tell me all a bout it ? were the questions 1 asked in quick suc cession. Any one but a yankce would have found it impossible to answer all my interrogatories, but he went about replying to tlicm, as systemati cally as if there were hut two, or its if an hun dred would have been as readily answered us a half dozen. "Wall, neow; young man, that's more'n I kin tell you; I never could larn who he was, nor wharlie eiun frumczackly. I've hear'n say that he wus a Frenchman, and of high barth, an' had a fuss with his family an' left 'em. Some folks talks beout his b in' a Spanisher, and lie in' in the wars. Soma sez he was an old robber; others blam'd him for bein' a darn'd old pirate. Some sez one thing, some somcthin' else, and arter all, I reckon nobody duh't know mithin' 'beout him't all, no more'n I dew myself. I guess though lie wnr'nt any better'n he ort tew be. Reckon'he was somethin' big in his time, lie died 'beout tew year ago, though he bilt that ar consarn, a half dozen year afore that. 11c lived in that cur'ous heousfl on the hill yander, this twenty year'n more. He wus as ill-nater'il to liis wife as old Satan himself. She wus an angel of a critter, though she hadn't 110 peace with him, and artcr leadin' a wus'n a dog's life, she died of a heart break. Noliody couldn't git the hang oil liiin; he wus as cross-grained and ugly as an old bull dog. They say he did die in orful agony; shouldn't wonder of ho did, though I don't know nothin' 'beout it. Nobody wimt live in his hcouse, case they say its banted; shouldn't wonder if it wus. I wouldn't stay all night by his grave for nuthin", I lie old critter's spent might git riled, and then he wouldn't bo a darn'd hit tew good to lite dcown on tew a fel ler and gin him pcrtiek'lcr Jchosaphat." Is that all you can t II me about him? I asked. "I dun.'no notliin' more'n he wus an orful un believer. lie thought thnr warn't no God, and that thar wouldn't never bo no judgment no more'n nuthlu'. I've hcarn' sav, he put oil that ar big pile o' stun on top uv him, jest tit smash hitn, and keep him from risUi' at ilie Judgment, ef thar should happen tew he sieh a thing.— Thar's no ktiowin'; meb-be the pesky old sinner did git a leetle mite skcer'd arter all. Wall he'd ought tew bo. I tell you, young man, it'll take a mighty sight bigger stun pile'n that to hide the old euss unci keep him from cotniu' when he's sent fur. lie ain't the fust old fool, nur young fool nether, that's got sick uv hisoubelief, when he begun to feel the devil gittin' a hold tew him, and he wunt he the last, I reckon, by a tamal sight." Finding that I coul.l learn 110 more of this ex traordinary character from the yankeo, I ex pressed my determination to find out all about him, soon as I could. "I ruiher guess you'll be puzzled the darndest to find cout more'n I tell you," he replied, "ef any body know'd, I ort to. I've been tryin' to larn übeout )*m this dozen year'n more, and dun' no as much as I did at fust. I tell you, young innn, you might jest as well gin it up." .Tust then the coach stopped, andmyeompan ! ion alighted and T saw no more of littn, nor heard again of the mysterious occupant of that singular burial place (although I visited it dur ing the next autumn) until chance some time .af ter threw his history in my way. It was early in March of the ensuing year, that I had occasion to ride iu the mail coach f rom (< to S . It was just such a bleak, blustering day as might bo expected, early March being the caterer. There were some six. or sev en passengers in the couch. The curtains and windows were all closed, and each one selfishly trying to hide from the cold, was buried in fur thest possible recess of robe, overcoat or cloak. Little conversation was hold among us, ns though we were all afraid to speak for fear the least mo tion should render us more vulnerable to the cold. Upon the seat farthest removed from nie, sat an aged, venerable looking, and well dressed in dividual. apparently a foreigner, if we might in fer any thing from his countenance and costume. Of his speeeli we could judge nothing, for if we talked little, he less: for as yet he had not spo ken even a word. It was not until the middle of the afternoon, when we had been thawed before the hospitable fire of "mine host" of a- relay house, and had brought the "inner man" under the'cheering in fluence .of a hearty dinner, fixed in situ by"a little fourth proof," that any of us were, dispo sed at all toward conversation; and then for a while we chatted together with a volubility that one who might have witnessed our taciturnity in the. morning, would hardly Jiave supposed us ca pable of. It has passed into a proverb, that "travelers by stage cannot long be strangers to each other," and we proved no exception to the general fact, for soon our anecdotes and jests flew in rivalry with the speed of our wheels. From mirth we finally subsided into "tellyig wonders," and each of my companions had an Freedom of Thought and Opinion. BEDFORD,PA..FRIDAY MORNING, APRIL 4, 1862. account to give of some curiosity that had come i under his observation. I, of course, had my share to communicate, and among other things j gave a description of the wonderful "tomb" that had so much occupied my thoughts. IV hen I mentioned the name that was inscri-, bed upon it, the old gentleman I have referred i to, started quickly and exclaimed: "MonDieu! vat you tell me! Ls zat de name ?' You sure zat de name? Tell me, sure, vere zat! iss—ls he near (lis ?" I told him that it was within forty miles, and named its locality. Ile then relapsed into si lence which was uninterrupted for several nun- ! utes. My curiosity, as well as that of my com panions, was excited by the manner of the old : man, and as I now btul some hopes of having • tliu mystery connected with the "tomb" unrav eled, I could not resist my desire to have that ! curiosity satisfied. The mention of the name upon the tomb op- ' pears to interest you sir, I said: would you deem nie impertinent were I to ask the cause of your emotion ? "No saru! no sure! Ido not refuse to tell i you. You sail know de reason. I hear moil Fatre talk of von inan by zat natnc, zat left de home, many, vcr many year, and vos not tuoscli hear from ; after vile vos not hear from vonce— vos gone altogeder. I link dis inus be de same; it iss de name; it mos be de vA same von: Two nantes vould not be von like de oder." The old gentleman expressed hi 3 determina-1 lion to visit the "tomb," and then at our request went on to tell of the man who had disappeared, and from his narrative, and from facts subse quently obtained of the last days of the "Infi del's" life, I have gleaned that which I now lay before the reader. It occurred to nio while conversing- with the oid gentleman, that he might he some relative of the man of whom he spoke, hut this may have | been imagination, for he did not say so,' and from ' motives of delicacy I did not ask him. In the year A. D. 1734 and for a number of: years subsequently, there lived in a province of | Italy, remote from its metropolis, in a retired mansion, bulb its architecture, denoted- several j centuries anterior to the time when my talc com- j mciiccs, S4?nor Leon Del Favaro and his family, | consisting of his Lady nnd their two sons, and j an orphan niece whom they had adopted ns their j own child. The Father Antonio, an aged priest j who had officiated in the chapel of the old man-; sion, ever since lie had taken holy orders, while 1 the Signor Leon was yet a child, still resided with them, beloved as a spiritual father and rev | erenced fur his piety and wisdom. The old i steward and a few servants couple ted the house- j hold. The Signor was a younger member' of a no ble family, descended from 1:11 illustrious ances- j try. Although himself untitled,his wealth, which was considerable, and more especially his high and honorable character, gave him great influ ence among the titled nobility. Respected by the rich and great, he was loved by the. poor and humble for bis invariable kindness, generosi ty and-condscension to them. Not was the Lady Elvira less loved than her noble husband. She had been beautiful In early life, and time and care had dealt lightly with her. The loveliness which had been the charm of her girlhood, lost none of its attraction by being united with the dignity and matronly bear ing which were hers at the period of which I write. If those who were her peers in rank, loved her, much more did the children of pen ury learn almost to adore the kind being who was to tlieni a guardian angel and constant friend. Blessed, thrice Messed arc they who have a home in the hearts of the poor, and fully could Del Favaro and his Signor realize this truth, us they retired to their meditations after a day spent in doing good. Unambitious, and blessed witli more than a competency, they had no de sire to seek after the honors of the world; but in the pious counsels of the good old Father, they lived secluded and happy, spending their time in superintending and aiding in the educa tion of their sons anil niece as it progressed un der the tutorage of the Father Antonio. And never, judging from the promises of their ear ly childhood, could parents have better rea son to hope for good results, as the reward of their labors and solicitude. Never did the eye of parental pride rest on two nobler boys than were their sons Leopold and Alphonzo. Leopold was two years the senior of his broth er. They were equally attractive, anil yet they were the antipodes of each other in form and feature. The form of the young Leopold was robust anil thick set, while that of Alphonzo was tall and slender. The features ol Leopold were of extraordinary boldness of outline, though extremely handsmc. His complexion was even a shade darker than the olive that characterizes the "sons of sunny Italy." lUs hair was crisp nnd curly, and of tho hue of a "raven's plume," and his black brilliant eye was shaded by a brow of the most classic curve. His lip arehod haugh- tily, betraying in the least movement, tce.th of exquisite regularity and pearly whiteness. .The features of Alphonzo, on the contrary, were so delicate and fair, that one not aware of his Italian birth, would have identillod him with the inhabitants of northern Germany. His wa vy auburn hair, and mild blue eye, shaded by its long silken lash, and his mouth that wore a constant smile, formed a tout erwmbk in striking contrast with that of his dark featured brother. In fact, when in repose, and unmoved by any emotion, it would have been impossible for the observer to have decided which were the hand somer, or upon which of the two nature had more strongly impressed the seal of nobility. As they were the opposite in form and feature, so as their passions anil inclinations began to develop themselves, their anxious guardians be gan to discover how equally diverse were those minds and hearts, which they were striving to form alike in the same mould of virtue nnd love liness. Alphonzo was ever of a buoyant, gentle nnd forgiving disposition. His ringing laugh and merry step, shed cheerfulness around. If the Father Antonio, or the Signor, or the Lady El vira found occasion to chide him, his fair cheek might flush for a moment, it is true, or a tear suffuse his gentle eye, hut it would pass as quick ly ns it came, and with the drops of contrition on his cheeks, and words of confession 011 his lips, he would throw his arms around the repro ver's neck, anil Ix'g to he forgiven. The disposition of Leopold was just the re verse. Even from his early youth, he was dark and cruel, and took pleasure in tormenting and giving pain to some creature; and this character "grew with his growth and strengthened with his strength." Of a cold, sullen temper, he was scarcely ever moved, but by anger and a re vengeful spirit. A reproof from his parents would mantle his eye with fire, and cause his cheek to burn, his proud lip to curl, and his teeth to set in fierce passion; and at such times his face would have something so fearful in its ex pression, that his gentle mother would tremble. As he grew older, he bccwiM urnqf alike to ai'iiumss ami severity. For whole days after some supposed offence, would he remain moody and morose, wandering from the house, and re maining in'the forest, which formed part of the parental domain, by himself, communing with his own dark thoughts, and nothing hut the steru, decisive command of his father, could induce him to return until his humor left hint. If Alphonzo seein"d a being created to love and he loved, so did his stern brother appear a creature to hate, and be hated. The young Paulino I need not describe. Suf fice it for ino to say, that her rare beauty was exceeded only by her lovely and gentle disposi tion. I will leave the reader to imagine eyes of Mack, hazel, or blue; hair jet, blonde, or gold en; cheeks of "rosy blush, or lily white;" —to clothe her in whatever similitude may be best pleasing to himself. It is not important that I dwell longer upon 'the curly days of my heroes, save to say, that as they verged toward manhood, the unhappy spirit of Leopold acquired more and more the mastery over him. The anxiety which a per verse childhood and early youth caused his pa rents, gradually gave place to habitual and hope less sorrow, as with the passing-years, that once tranquil home became more frequently the the ater of passion, until finally its peace was con stantly disturbed. Tho consciousness that his was not a character to be loved, although he could not but be sensible, of the cause, instead of loading him to strive to master his unhallow ed temper, but maddened him, and urged his malignant heart into tho commission of fresh | deeds of wickedness,. Often would his kind father In the most af -1 fectionnto terms entreat him for his own well | being and happiness, and for the sake of those j whom nature had bound to him in such tender j ties, to strive to siilxlue his ill-natured disposi : tion. Often would his mother, in loving accents, ' and with streaming eye*, implore him not to ! break her heart; and often would his reverend | tutor spend whole nights before the altar in tho ' chapel, engaged in prayer to the Immaculate I One, that the heart of his ILeopold might he mclt [ ed, and his nature suliduvd by the sweet influ [ enccs of the dews of heavenly grace. Often [ would he by the mildest reasoning, for it was not in the heart of the good old man to # be harsh or unkind, strive to convince him of the "error of his ways;" but it was all in vain. The re proofs and entreaties of his father only roused him to madness, and caused new outbreaks of his unholy passion. Tho tears of his mother might us well have hoped to melt the "nether •millstone," for if the sight of those tears brought, perchance', a flush of shame to his cheek, the consciousness of that shame, nnd its betrayal, only produced a fresh ebullition of his ill-nature. The prayers and mild reasoning of the pious An -1 tonio were alike unheeded and despisfid. ["ooxci.rsiON NEXT WEEK.] U DOI.E 1V118ER.4998. VOL. 5. N0.35. j sl)t Schoolmaster 21 broad-. EDITED BY SIMON SYNTAX, ESQ. QyTtacber* sod friends of education are respect fully requested to send communications to the above care of "Bcdfoid Gazette." / RETROSPECTIVE AND PROSPECTIVE. The advocates of a broad system of popular education, having at heart the prosperily of Pennsylvania, and wishing to see her people el evated to their true position as members of a great agricultural community, have observed with no common interest the progress of the educational reform begun in 18.54-5 through the influence of the law establishing the Coun ty Supcrintendoncy. Previous to that time the only school for the training of Teachers in the state was the Female Normal School of Phila delphia, and its influence scarcely reached 4c yond the corporate limits of the city inwvhich it was established. There was no union among the teachers' no rallying point around which they could collect, no head to teaching, wheth er considered as a trade or as a profession; and 110 one viewing it from a philosophical stand point, had attempted to trace it back to first principles and investigate its. foundation in or der to ascertain what claims it has to rank as a profession. The public looked upon Teaching, particularly in our common schools, as no more professional than laying brick, shoving the plane, or wielding the hammer of the blacksmith; and it Is a lamentable fact-that this opinion was not without foundation. Since that tiiuo two State Normal Schools, one at Millersville, the otheru; Edinboro, have been organized under the act of '55, and they are now sending out their graduates as thoroughly and carefully trained to Teaching as the gradu-' ate of a law school is to the law. Private Normal Schools have sprung up in many parts of the state; teachers' associations have been organized and a professional feeling aroused a ■uong their members; a livelier and more gen eral interest in common schools and a deeper sense of their importance has been awakened in the jjublic mind; and lastly and most impor tant of all, mucli progress lifts ueen mane irt re ducing Teaching to a science and placing it on firm scientific lasis. When wc reflect (liat all this has ac complished during the past six years of finan cial revulsion and hard times, anil that the re sults must have been more flattering in times of ordinary prosperity, we feel like being satis fled with the past and hojeful of the future. And yet, we cannot but regard the profession of [Teaching not as one that is but us one that is to be. The dignity of any profession will depend upon theimportanee of its eft'oets on society, upon the moral rectitude of its members, and upon their mental culture. With respect to the first we may well claim equality with any other; excluding the pulpit, wc should proba bly not suffer in a comparison of the second; but unfortunately for us wc can not say the same with respect to the last: and herein do. we Jose an indispensable auxiliary in elevating our calling. No profession can elevate and dignify the man, but the man must elevate and dignify the profession. You can not build a strong ship of rotten timber. You cannot build up a great profession whoso members nro mentally disqualiflcd to hold a high position among their fellow men. Again, who are our standard uu tliors on the science of Teae' ing, aud what are its technical terms? True, we have plenty of books on nietiuxls but very few on principles and perhaps none that may be quoted as undeniable authority. Method has been tho bane of our calling long enough; we want the principles un derlying the methods—principles on which the human mind can IK*, developed and strengthened wit hout the terrible risk of withering and cramp ing its energies by blind method. Aud who, I repeat, ait the writers upon these principles? who have established our profession on princi ples eternal as truth itself, as has boon done with medicine ami law? An were to those questions reveal tho bar-1 renness of our seionco, an<l drive us to the con clusion that wo are not yet ready to put on professional robes. But give us works on Teach ing which Bhall be to it what Blaokstone and Kent are to the law ; and then, indeed, can wc claim for it the dignity of a science. Such works are the great educational want of the present time, and those who write them will lay the foundation of a fourth learned profession. And why not have such works, and such a profession? Arc there not principles as grand and immutable underlying the development of mind as those on which the professions of medi cine and law are founded ? And are there not men who can develop these principles and lay the foundation of another profession, as was dono long ago for those already in existence ? Assuredly there are and the exjMjricnce of each year demonstrates more clearly the possibility and necessity of establishing Teaching on such | a basis, if we would plaoe it on a level with 1 medicine iyvl la*- One Square, three treexi or less.. ". ,- qq One Square, each additional insertion ltsa : than three months .. . . 9} 3 MONTHS. 6 MONTHS* 1 TVA*. One square $2 00 $3 00 $5 00 Two squares ........ 300 500 #OO Three squares 400 7.00 12 00 i Column 500 000 15,00 i Column 800 12 00 . 20 00 t Column 12 00 18 0 0 30 00 One Column 18 00 30 00 50 00-, The spice occupied by ten lines of this size of type roiyits one square. All fractions of a square under five lines will be measured as a half square : and all over five lines as a full square.. All legal advertisements.will be charged, to the person hand* ing them in. We want contributions to our educational eol urn H. Teachers and friends of education, will you aid its in pushing on the work in which we are engaged ? Give us your thoughts on any of the thousand topics connected with schools and teachers, and you will be heartily welcome to a place in our columns. Give the benefit of yonr • experience and reflection to your co-laborois. We should have one or more correspondents in every township in the county. Discuss the ma ny profitable and interesting questions relating to the principles and the practice of teacliing. This will interest teachers. Or select educa tional topics of a general nature and they will doubtless be generally interesting. We should also like to have brief accounts of examinations and exhibitions throughout the county. Or if there' are any who cannot please themselves in the wide range of topics suggested, let "us have discussions of mooted points in English gram mar, and solutions of knotty problems in arithme tic and algebra. Send on your contributions. Two problems in Mental Arithmetic have been, handed to us, with the request that we should print a solution. 1. A tree is (50 ft. high which is five sixthsof six sevenths of the length of its shadow, dimin ished by 20 ft.; how long is the shadow I 2. A gave away some money and then found 10 cts., which is one half of what he then had, and one fifth of what he at first had; how much did he give away 1 Who will send us solutions? wc will print two or three of the best we receive. It may be. to say that good Arithmeticians differ as to the answers. We have several communications which we do not print, because we have not the real names of the authors. If contributors wish, to go intoprint over assumed names, they are of course allowed to do so; but the Editor mud know the real names of the writers. An examination of some of the classes in the Principal's dept. of the Uedford Union Schools, took place on Friday, the 21st nit. 'Wflstefftitf iWtte* pykyi'sr&iifce wto dance. The pupils acquitted themselves credit ably in tbo several branches. We have no definite information as to the fate of the proposed amendments to the school law now pending in the legislature. We will print them if they pass. ASHAMED OF THEIR PARTY. The llepublican journals ever y where in the North arc preserving an unusual silence in rela tion to the enormous frauds and corruptions, which have been reported to Congress. Tlfcy neither publish the reports nor make any allusion to them.—They are ashamed to expose the ras cality of their own party. Ashamed to let their readers know how they have imposed on the public by preaching honesty, retrenchment and reform, while they were laboring to elevate to political power the most profligute and cor rupt body of men that have ever been known to the nation. Come you boasted, self-constituted patriots, who have such a pious regard for the. welfare of the negro population of the South, t tell the public how much love you have for Un-. do Sam's coffers. Tell how much has been squandered in rewarding political favoritism, and how. much you have putin your own pock-, ct 3 .—Pottsvillc Standard. A NEW "HOOP" DISEASE.—A new disease has made its appearance since the introduction of hoops. It exhibits itself only in cold weath er, and then it is only discoverable in cities where the buildings arc warmed witli furnaces. Two Indies Were standing over a register the other day, talking and laughing, when one en deavoring to sit was suddenly attacked and screamed"violently. The other also tried to sit, and was attacked in the same manner. Tito explanation is that by standing so long over tlia register, their metallic hoops became heated to such a degree that when thev attempted to be seated, it was like sitting on a hot gridiron. Of course they were not a great length of time get->. ting up again, and naturally enough uttered screams—all of which would be very myster ious to a looker on, unacquainted with the mys- k ' teries of hoops. MA tun AGE. —"I never," says Mrs. Childs, ' I saw a marriage expressly for money that did,, not end unhappily. Yet managing mothers and heartless daughters are continually playing tho same unlucky game. I believe men more fro-, qucntly marry for love than women, because they havtf' free choice. lam afraid to conjec ture how large a portion of women marry only because they think they will never have abetter chance, and dread becoming dependent. Such marriages do sometimes (trove tolerably comfort able, but a greater number would have been for happier single." Some wag has resurrected the following jokes upon nnmes: Wnllaeh, of tho AVashington Star, says: There is a place in Pennsylvania, called Young woman's town. AY hat a deuce of aplaceitmust be for fellers! There is aplace ip Pennsylvania, cidlcd Youngmanstown, and is one of tho great est places for ladies this side of purgatory. CST AVhen is a man truly oyer bead arf ears in debt AYhen ho not pd b wig-
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