’S
ITTERS.
period, every mem
subject to disease
ily functions; but,
0 and the exercise
y maybe able bo to
secure permanent
nplisb this desired
pursue is certainly
1 natural etate of
f vital strength and
. Hostetler has in
ueparation bearing
v medicine, but ono
rs, giving satisfac
i it. The Bitter*
e stomach, bowels,
to a healthy and
by the simple pro
re, enable the eye.
Indigestion, Nau
jetitc, or any Bilious
a morbid inaction
producing Cramp*.
Morbus, &c., these
x, so generally con
caused principally
lict, will be speedily
f this preparation.
1 is probably mor*
‘8 forms, than any
■rhich may always
us of the digostiv*
jout fail by uaintt
1 BITTERS, as par
irthis disease every
liters of some kina;
known to to infal
dr Bitters, as a pro
igthener of the sy**
them all there Is
ealtliy people than
I 'em*-
which
value-of this great
medical-science.
frying andprovok*
relentless grasp pa
liim to a mere ahn>
udering him phy*
is. ■-.can bo driven
of HOSTETTEK’B
urther.noneof the
o contracted, even
e Bitters aroused
ucy neither create
tc, and render an*
ct or interruption
omote sound sleep
complaint is re*
steut with the pro*
ermanent core]
/ Years, who are
I constitution and
rc invaluable ss a
vigor, and need
iated. And to a
Bitters are indie*
he mother’s nous*
'.2 demands of tha
ngth mast yield,
»d tonic, such M
us needed to impart
;or to the system,
s try this remedy
i, before so doing,
it, who, if he is
f the Bitters, will
•;iscs of weakness,
public against using
counterfeits, bat ask
Stomach Bitkbs,
the words “ Dr. J*
blown on the Side
n the metallic cop
that ear autograph
■ HOBTBTTSIB £
and Bold by all
leaders generally
;es, Canada, South
r
A Eonsh, Altoona; O A
mv, nollidaysVura; and
[Aug 25,1859-lp
tbo praise of
ORDIAL,
> afford instantaneous re
rio' if by magic, and ont
I- hut vuj say ia true. It
<Z OPIATE
I by removing the Sttfif-
Valiniing its sensibilities,
fa- the only reliable pnp
[x TtEtnixa, Duosboa,
k acidity or xu* SMM-
Ci.olt, nho, for soften
on. regulating the Bototis,
|-i.-ing uii anti-spasmodic
I all COof CosmUXOS
i’/> and health if yofff
-j. tl ote sad and blighting
:d' from the use of ndr
r. Infantile Complaints
■r.s's i.MA.NTIIxCoBDUt,
folly harmless, and can*
Price, 25 cents. Fall
Prepared only by
IT.CII A DUPONT,
I: roadway, New-Torit.
:ed
element*, wa
Analyze the Blood of
[,:i .n. Liver Complaint,
nl in fiery instance wr*
~f Blood. Supply thew
i*ll, Tiio Blood Foo»
nee its astonishing »nc-
TIOXS
, Blood in different dto
•iinin, or nny nnect' o "
Inducing COX!CMPZW!*>
• DePBESSION OP SPIUIB,
■,K' Complaints.
nd Nebvocs Pnostw
. .vo. 3 for DvspzPtti.-;
it ia r\KE;;nr I»ort
ircuhition. so *b a ‘ " h *.
lor female Ip*RM ci^“
■ .. s|iccinl directions for
is, Sc-KOFILOCS. KIDNET.
In all cases thodt
Price of the
i KCii & dui-oMV v
i i road way, X
oa.nudG. U.KBYSEB,
!, i rray, UolliJayaburg,
l uighout tbs country.
K GAZETTE-^
in- and Criminal* I* *"
f circulated throughout
Great Trials, Criming
r. the some, logotberwiw
not to bo found in “V
,; $1 for six months, t*
~ ulil write thoir nan.**
re they reside plainly*
M ATSELL & CO*,
Vork Police Gosett*,
jfrtw York City*
-GENTLEMEN
:i’K P. TEODT«U>SJ2v
jU&wjatti Jribunr*
McORUM & BERN,
( B •
VOL. 5.
THE ALTOONA: TRIBUNE
JicCRDM t DBBN, -PnMiaben and Proprietors.
p« innnm, (payable invariably in advance,) «Lso
AH paper* discontinued at the expiration of the tiine
Mid fcr.
nans or Anvzmano.
1 insertion 2 do. Bdo
Poor lines or less, $26 $ s6o
One squore, (8 lines,) 50 76 1 oo
Tee U« “ ) 100 160 200
Three '* (« ) 150 200 260
Over three weeks and less than three months, 25 cents ner
*ptireTor each insertion.
Six lines or !««■,
One iquar*,
Ivro M
Thres
Four" (too 10 00 14 00
Half a column, s 10 00 14 00 20 00
Odo column, 14 00 25 00 40 00
Administrator* and Sxecntur* Notice*, i 75
Werchanta advertising by tUe year, three »quar*s,
with liberty to change, 10 00
Professional or Busiueg* Card*, not exceeding 8
Hue* with paper, per year, 5 qo
Communications of apolitical character or individual in
tirest will be charged, occonllngto the above rates.
Advertisement* not marked with the number of insertion*
desired, will be continued till forbid and charged
to the above term*. 6
BorioMs notices live cants per linoibrovery insertion.
Obituary notices exceeding ten cento a square.
Select
THE BABEPOOT BOY.
bt jomr.a. wmrnan. '
Blessings on thoe, little man]
Barefoot boy, with check of ton)
With thy turned up pantaloons.
And thy merry whistled tunes—
With thy red Up redder still.
Kissed by strawberries on the hill—
With tho sunshine on thy face
Through thy tom brim’s jaunty grace;
Prom my heart I give thoe Joy—
I was once a barefoot boy I
Prince thon art—the grown-up man
Only Is republican.
Lot the milUon-dbllared ride—
Barefoot, trudging at his side,
Thou hast more than he can bny,
In the reach of ear and eye
Outward sunshine, inward Joy,
Blessings on the barefoot boy)
Oh) for boyhood's painless play,
Slelp that wakes in toughing day;'
Health that mocks the doctor’s rules;
Knowledge, never learned at schools;
Of the wild bee’s morning chfae.
Of the wild flower’s time and place,
Plight of fowl and habitude
Of the tenants of the wood.
How the tortoise boars, his shell.
How the woodchuck digs his cell,
the gronnd-molo sinks his well;
wow, theiiobin feeds her.ydnng,
How tile oriole’s-nestis hung;
whitestlili^blow,
Where thefreshestberrWgrow,
Wh«« the gronmhhnt trails in vino,
Where the wood-grape’s clusters shins;
Of the black wasp’s cunning way.
Mason of , his walls pf clay,
And tho architectural plans
Of gray bomet articansl—
For’eschewipg books and tasks,
Nature answers all he asks';
Hand In hand with her ho k.l^
Face to tope with, her he talks, /
Part and parcel of her Joy— /
Blessings on the barefoot boy I.
Oh! for boyhood’s time of June,
Crowding years in one brief moon.
When all things I heard or saw,
Me, their master, waited for.
1 was rich in flowers and trees,
Humming birds ani honey bees,
Per my sport the squirrel flayed,
Plied the snouted mole his spade ;
Per aiy taste the blackberry cone
Purpled Wer hedge and stone;
Laughed the brook )jbr my delight
Through tho day and through the night.
Whispered at the gaiden wail,
Talked with tde.lrom fall to foil;
,Mwe the sand-rimmed pickerel pond.
Mine the walnut slopes beyond,
Mine the bending orchard trees,
Apples of Hesperidesl
Still as my. horizon grew,
*Arger grew my riches too,.
A)i the world I saw or knew.
Seemed a complex Chinese foy»‘
Fashioned for a barefoot boy I
Uhl for festal dainties spread,
like ay bowl of miUcand Bread—
Pewter gpioon* turf bowl of wood, .
On.lhe door stone, gray and rode!
O’ar
Cloudy-ftbbed.the shnwt bent,
Porptocartoined, fringed with gold,
*“ n»“y swing fold;
•vhile for music came the play
Of tho pled flrpge’orchestra; ;
And, to light the jdpigy choir, ,
liit Ihe fly hislunpe of ilre. ■
I wm monarch; pomp and Joy .
on tbs barcfoot ‘bqy,l J V■,
®*eerOy,theji, mylUUe,maii,.' .
tiv« andUogh an boyhood jean I
Though the flinty (lores' be*hirdd- ' ' ,
Stable i#w^rttoiiwaWiauk '
■*
Bpery errailng ftom thy fort
ShaU the cool wtods kiss the heat ; .
All.tooeoonjtheaeiaetnuiathlde
In ;
god,
aeolt’e work beifoba, >
Made 'to tread the inQle of toil,
and down ithe ceaseless moil—
H»ppy If their track he found
Norer oh forbidden J ■'
Hnppy If sink hot iht r / *: ; G
Quick and treacherous sandji of sin.
Ail t that thou conld’st know the joy,
Er ett peaace, bare foot boy 1 '
iiirj "—h AiltJpuTat qffVhftt
ned an enraged schoolmaster.
Yes, sir.”
'
line me “d Bm Jones ,Wwr>lßying buH
thu.sigMldo run
<Xaissk switch
was BohW last Wf. •
* month*. 0 months. 1 year.
$l6O $3 00 $6 00
a6O 400 - 700
* 00 6 00 10 00
6 oq 8 00 12 00
c i i
•*; jr.
likellang
’THE FALSE FHKHBLAX,.
I never liked my ancle’s business, though he
took me when my father died, and brought me
op os bis own son. The good man had no chil
dren. His wife was long dead; he had an hon
est old woman for a housekeeper, and a flour
ishing business, in the undertaking line, to leave
to somebody; but he did not leave it to me, and
i’ll tell you the reason.
When I had been about five years with him,
and had grown worth my salt, as he used to
say, a death occurred in our neighborhood,
which caused greater lamentation than any we
had beard of since my apprenticeship'began.—
The deceased gentleman was a Mr. Elsworthy.
The family had been counted gentry in ihier day.
I should have said my uncle lived in York, and
all the world knows what Yorkshire families are.
Well, the Elsworthys were of good family, and
very proud of it, tho’. they had lost everts acre
of on old estate which had belonged to them
time out of mind. lam not sure whether it j
was their grandfather’s dice and cock-fighting,
I or their lather’s going surety for a friend, who
I did *° m *thing wrong in a government office,
that brought them to this poor pass; but there
was no house in all York where candles wont
further, and tea leaves were better used up.
There was a.mother, two sisters, and a cousin
who lived with them. The mother whs a state
ly old lady, never seen out of the black brocade.
The sisters were not over young or handsome,
but they dressed as fine as they could. The
cousin was counted one of the prettiest women
in Yorkshire, but she walked with a crutch, hav
ing met with an accident in her childhood.—
Master Charles was the only son, and the young
est of the family ; he was a tall, handsome,
dashing young man, uncommonly polite, and a
great favorite with the ladies. It was said there
was some red eyes in the town when the story
got wind that he was going to be married to the
Honorable Miss Westbay. Her father was
younger brother to the Earl of Harrowgate, and
had seven girls beside her* without a penny for
one of them; but Miss Westbay was a beauty,
and the wonder was that she had not got mar
ried long ago, being nearly seven years out,
dancing, singing, and playing tip-top pieces at
all the parties. Half-a-dozen matches had been
talked of for her, but somehow they broke down
one after another. Her father was rather im
patient to see her off; so were her sisters, poor
things, and no wonder, for grow up. os they
might, not one of them would the old man suffer
to come out till the eldest was disposed of, and
at last .there seemed something like a certainty
of that'business. Young Mr. Elsworthy and
she struck up a courtship. He was fascinated
—isn’t that the word ?—at an assize ball, paid
marked attentions at the bishop’s party, and was
believed to have popped the question at a pic
nic, after Harrowgate, the largest' share
holder in the North Eastern Bank, got him pro
moted from a clerkship to be manager? It’s
true he was some years younger than Miss
Westbay, and people said there had been some
thing between him and his pretty cousin ; but a
Lord’s neice with beauty, accomplishments, and
a serviceable connection does not come in every
young man s way; so the wedding-day was fixed
for the first of January; and all the milliners
were busy with the bride’s bonnets and dresses.
It was just a month to come, and everybody
was talking ipf the match, when. Mr. Elsworthy
fell sick] At first -they said it was a cold ; then
it turned to a brain fever; at last the doctor
gave'no hopes of bis recovery, and within tho
same week Mr. Elsworthy died. The' wnole
neighborhood was cast into mourning & prom
ising young man, in a manner the only depen
dence of his family, newly /promoted to a sta
tion of trust and influence, and on the eve of
marriage, everybody lamented his untimely
death, and sympathized with his bereaved Vela
lions,.and hisiutended bride. I think iny un
cle lamented most of aU, None of his custo
mers, to my knowledge, ever got so much of his
,wrrpw. When he was seut for in the way of
business, it strook me that he stayed particular
ly long. The good man could talk of .nothing
but the grief of the ’ afflicted' family—how the
toother Went into fits and .ihe sisters tore 'their
• hair—how the roouaintalked'of wearing mourn*
ing all her days—and how it was feared that
.-.urho' ■ insisted on seeing him,
P»Pfi*»gW» expressions to the public grief
'There was agreatnmnyyerses wrUteuaboutit •
• wmwk.. My .unof/ropje^
iUtended the maktog of the cofißn, as Ihaduever
seen him'do to any other; and when the work
men were gone home, he' spent' hours at night
it by himself. :
• The funeral was to set,out for thefamily vault
'in the Minater church, at Beverly, about three
o’clock in the afternoon. It was'maido.a strictly
fimate affair, though hundreds of the towns
men would have testified their respect for the
de*s by accompanying it aU the way. The
members of the family, in two mourning coach*
es, and the undertaker’s men, were alone allow
ed to follow poor Msworthy to his his last res
ting plape, and the cofiin was not to be brought
till the latest hour. My uncle had got it fin.
shed to bis mind, but evidently did not wish
toe to look at his work, jHo bad a lohg talk with
j t«eJo S.touemap, tyo of hie mos* coufideu-
Ual assistants in the workshop, after hours, and
ALTOONA, PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 30, 1860
they; -went away looking remarkably close. All
was in tritfn, and the funeral to take place the
next; day, when, coming down his own stairs
thqr.were rather steep and narrow, for we lived
in one of the old houses of York—my uncle slip
ped, Ml, and broke his leg. I thought he would
havejgonV. mad when the doctor told him he
must not Attempt to move, or mind any busi
ness for weeks to come, and. I tried to pacify
him by offering to conduct the funeral with the
help pf Steele and Stoneman. Nothing would
please the old man; I never saw him so for out
of temper before. He swore at his bad luck,
the pillows at his hosekecper, ordered pie
to bring him up the key of the workshop, and
kept it fast clutched in his hand. I sat up
with bim that night. In a couple of hours he
grew calm and but could not sleep,
though the house was all quiet, and the house
keeper snoring in the comer. Then he began
to groan, as if there was something worse than
a broken leg on his mind, and“ Tom,” said he,
“ kavn’t I always been kind to yon ?”
“ Np doubt of it, uncle,” said I.
“ Tom, I want you to do me a great
service—a particular service, Tom, and I’ll
never forget it to you. You know Mr. JElswor
thy’s funeral comes off to-morrow at three, and
they ate very high people.”
“ N frer fear, uncle; I’ll take care of it as
well as if you wore there yourself.”
‘‘l knew .you would, Tom,—l knew you
would. I could trust you with the hearsing of
an carPs coffin; and for managing mutes, I don’t
know pour equal. But there’s something more
to be done. Come over besides me, Tom ; that
old woman don’t hear well at the best, and she’s
sleeping now and no mistake. Will yoaji prom
ise me”—and his voice sunk to a whisper—
“ that, whatever you hear or see, yoa’jl make
no remark to any living, and be as cautious as
you can abotit the body ? There’s foul play,”
said he, for I began to look frightened; “but
maybe this leg’s a judgment for taking on such
a business. Howsomever, I’m to have three
hundreds pounds for it fund you’ll get the half,
Tom, the full half, if you’ll conduct it properly,
and give me your solemn promise. I know you’ll
never break.”
Uncle, said I, ** I’ll promise, and keep it
top; but you must tell me what it is.”
“ Tom,” —and he drew a long breath
—“its a livipg man you’re going to put in that
coffin Uribe Workshop ! I’ve made it high and
full of ajr holes; he’ll lie quite comfortable.
Nobody knows about it but Steele and Stone
man and yourself; they’ll go with yon. Mind
yon trust no one else. Don’t look so stupid}
man; can’t you understand ? Mr. Elsworthy
didut d\e at all, and never had brain fever; but
he wants to get off with marrying Miss West
bay, or something of that sort. They’re taking
a queer way about it, I must say; bufthese gen*
teol people have way? of their own. It was the
cousin that .prepared my mind for it in the back
parlor ; that woman’? up to anything. I stood
put against having a hand in it till I heard that
the sexton of Beverly Church was a poorrela
tion of theirs. The key of the coffin is to be
given to him; it will be looked, and not screw
ed down,; you pee; and when all’s over at t£e
vault—it will be dark night by that time, for we
don’t moyo till three, and these December days
are short— he’ll come and help Mr. Elsworthy
out, and pmnggle him off to Hull with his son
the carripr. There’s ships enough there to take
him .anywhere under a feigned name.”
_ “ Could he get off from .the marriage no ea
sier ? said I, for the thought of taking a living
man in ajheorse, and having the service read
over hiw| mads my blood run cold. You see I
was young then.
“There’s something more, than the marriage
init, thppgh they didn’t tell me. Odd things
will happen in my business, and this is: one of
the queerest. Eat you’ll manage it, Tom, and
get my bussing, besides your half of the three
hundred pound?; and don’t be afraid of any
thing coming wrong with him, for I never saw
any man jjook sip much like a corpse,”
I promised npy uncle to do the business and
keep the secret; A hundred and fifty pounds
was no joke to d young man beginning the world
In mi undertaking line; and the old man was so
pleased with what be called my senses and un
derstanding; that before falling asleep, close
upon daybreak,'he talked pf taking me into
! • and jobs wo miglit .expect from
I ttld flocropg»te.family; for the dowager -count
ess was npar foflraoore, and two of the young la
with deolihim Next day
early in tbd afternoon, Steele,. Stoneman, ans I
Were at work,, The family seemed daly moarn
fed ; 1 suppose pb account of the servants. Mr.
WonderfuilyWeil in
and H.oneiiladnpt looked closely intojthe eoffin,
they neyei'woald have seen theair-holes. Well;
we set out; mourning-coaches, hearse and all,
thpongh a fellow fog of a December day. There
.pas nothipg but sad faces to be soeu-at all
the windows as we passed; I heard themadmi
ring Steel? and Stoneman for the feeling hearts
they showed; but when we got on the Beyerly
road, the cousin gave ns a sigh, and
went a rattling pace; a Amend never got over
the' ground at such a rate before. Yet it Was;
getting dark when we reached the old Minister,
and the curate grumbled at haying to dp duty
so late. He got through the service nearlyas
quick as we got over the miles. -The coffin'whs
lowered Into the family yanltj
half filled wi th s|r, Els worthy’s forWatowSvbut
there wae 9 good wide grate In the wall, and ioo
want ©fair; It was all right. Th# eiork>nd
[independent in everything.]
the clergyman started off to their ; the
mourning-coaches went to the Crown Inn, where
the ladles were to wait till the sexton came to
let them know he was safe out—the cousin
would not go home without that news—and I
slipped him the key at the church-door, as he
discoursed to'us all about the mysterious dis
pensations of Providence.
My heart was light going home, so were Steele
1 and Stoneman’s. None of us liked the job, but
we .were all to be paid for it; and I must say
1 the old man came down handsomely with-the
needful, not to speak of Burton ale ; and I was
to be made his partner without delay. We got
the money, and had the jolification; but it
wasn’t right over, and I was just getting into
bed, when there was a ring.at our door bell, and
the housekeeper came to say that Dr. Parks
wanted to see me or my uncle. What could ho
want and how had he come back so soonv? Parks
was the Elsworthy’s family doctor, and the only
stranger at the funeral; he went in the second
mourning coach, and I left him talking to the
sexton. My clothes were thrown on, and I was
down stairs in a minute, looking as sober as I
could ; but the doctor’s look would have sobered
any man. “ Thomas,” said he, “this has turned
out a bad business ; and I cannot account for
it; but far. Elsworthy has died in earnest.—
When the sexton and I opened the coffin, we
found him cold and stiff. I think he died from
fright for such a face of terror I never saw. It
wasn’t your uncle’s fault; there was no doubt
ho had air enough.; but it can’t be helped; and
the less said about it, the better for all parties.
I am going to Dr. Adams to take him down with
me to Beverly. The sexton keeps poor Elswor
thy, to see if anything can be done; and Adams,
is the only man we could trust; but I know it’s
of no use.”
The doctor b apprehensions were well found
ed far. Elsworthy could not be recovered ; and
after trying everything to no purpose they laid
him down again in the coffin with air holes.—
The ladies came back, and wo kept the secret;
but in less than six months after, a rumor went
abroad of heavy forgeries on the North Eastern
Bank. On investigation they proved to be over
fifty thousand, and nobody was implicated but
the deceased manager. His family knew noth
ing about it; being all ladies, they were entire
ly ignorant about banking affairs; but they left
York next season, took a handsome house at
Scarborough, and were known to get money
Regularly from Loudon. They never employed
any doctor but Parks; and his medical manage
ment did not appear to prosper, for they never
were well and always nervous ; not one of them
would sleep alone or without a light in the room;
and an attendant from a private asylum had to
be got for the cousin. I don’t think the matter
■ever left my ancle’s mind ; he never would un
dertake an odd job after it; and all the partner
ships in England would not have made me con
tinue the business, and run the risks of another
false funeral.
A HUSBAND AND PATHEB.
A young man and his wife were prepared to
attend a Christmas party at tho house of a friend
some miles distant. i
“ Henry, my dear husband, don’t drink too
much at the party to-day; you will promise me,
won’t you ?” said she, patting her hand upon
his brow, and raising her eyes to his face with a
pleading glance.
“ No, Millie, I will not; you may trust me.”
And he wrapped his infant boy in a soft blan
ket as they proceeded.
The horses were soon prancing over the turf,
and pleasant conversation beguiled the way.
“ Now don’t- forget your promise,” whispered
the young wife, as she passed up the steps.
Poor thing! she was the wife of a man who
oved to look upon the wine when it was red.—
Bat his love for his wife and babe, whom they
both idolized, kept him back, and it was not of
ten that he joined in the bacchanalian revelries.
The party passed of pleasantly, the time for
departing drew near, and the wife descended
from the upper chamber to join her husband.—
A P an B shot through the trusting heart as she
met him, for he was intoxicated—he had bro
ken his promise.
Silently they rode homeward, save when the
drunken man would break into snatches of song,
or unmeaning Ipnghter. But the wife rode on,
her Babe pressed closely on her grieved heart
‘‘ Give me t,he babe,\Millie, I . can’t trust you
him,” said he, $s they approached a dark
and somewhat swollen: stream which they had
to ford. ■ ;
After eome hesitation die resigned her first
born, her darling babei closely wrapped in tho
great blanket, to hia anns. "Over l : the dark-wa
ter? the noble steed safely them, and when
tßeyreaohed theliank thh mother asked'for the
child- V' :v; '" •
Withmuofa cate and tenderness, he laid the
bundle in her arms, but when she clasped it to
wak there l' It had slipped
from the and the drunken father knew
itnotl v 'V
! ,4. shriek fropi the mother aroused Mmj
fape rise one moment afcpyp (bedark vaTeB, ihea
sink forever.
Wiiat a spccUolel.
temperance. The aognlah'hf
tt»e remorse of tha-father; are better, fcnag&ed.
than described.
!,l '.■ V:♦
Are Women Naturally Polite P ;
Mrs. Wyllys asks that question, and then
elaborately answers it herself)-thus:
Are women naturally polite, did you ask,
dear, good-natured Public 7 )
Did you ever know a woman to make roam
in an omnibus, five on a side) when Number Six
was entering, flounced and velveted, until order
ed by the driver 7
Did you ever know a Utile pair<j>f gaiter boots
to turn one inch either to the right or left when
they could have saved you front a streaming I
gutter by the operation 7 Patent leathers don’t
behave so—not they!
Did you ever know a woman to .say, “I am i
sorry to have given so much trouble,” when the
dry goods clerk had turned things topsy turvy,
without finding the shade or color that never!
existed 7 N ■ 1
Did you ever know a woman who did not
know it was “ outrageous” for another woman
to travel with a baby, or who didn't regard it as I
“ cruel and barbarous,” jf any one objected to I
the crying of Aer baby 7
Did you ever know two women to-talk over a
third without ridiculing her, even if she was her
“ dear particular friend ?”
Did you ever praise one young lady in the
presence of another, without being confidential-,
ly told of some enormous fault; or deformity in
the former which yon hadn’t dreamed of 7
Did you ever teU your wife what a beautiful
new dress your neighbor had girt, without learn
ing that “ it waa>only that dowdy old silk dyed
over 7” , * v;
Did you ever know a pretty woman to moke
an impression without a half a jiozen other pret
ty women ruining the effect of H the instant she
left the room ?
Did you ever know a woman to apologize for
haying knocked another woman’s bonnet into
“pi” (that’s printerism, but expressive, notwith
standing,) with the corner of her parasol ?
Did you ever hear of a woman who had an
idea that she was making trouble by her little
airs and grace ?
We, don’t believe ybu ever did) reader. They
are a race of unaccountables, these women, just
ns sweet and piquant as June roses, sometimes,
and then again, bristling like so many veno
mous thorn bushes. •
There’s one thing we never ceased to be in
wardly thankful for—that we’re hot a man, and
oonseqeuntly not obliged v td marry one of ’em. .
Why she would drive us crazy In a week, with
her whims and fancies, her exactions and her
pettish ways. We Would make f the most hen
pecked husband in the world, vmless, indeed,
we had tho nerve to run away from her or shut
her up in a closet for a week, until she promised
to behave bettor. When a woman chooses she
can be the nearest thing to an angel of anything
in the world, and what a pity it is she doesn’t
always choose.— Life Illustrated.
STUPIDITIES.
Hall’s Journal of Health e numerates the fol
lowing. The list is capable of being indefinite
ly entended. Indeed if one should specify all
the silly and ridicujous habits and practices by
which the majory of reasoning mortals are in
juring thepisolvek, he would make it chapter os
long as the Atlantic cable. *
Walking along tho streets with the point of
ar umbrella sticking out behind, under the arm
or over the shoulder. By suddenly stopping to
speak to a friend, or other cause, £ person walk
ing in the rear has his brain penetkated through
the eye, in one of our streets, and died in a few
days.
Stopping in a church aisle, after .dismission,
and standing to converse with others, or to al
low occupants of the same pew to pass ont and
before, for courtesy or precedence, at the ez-
Pknse of a great boorishness to those behind.
To guzzle down glass after glass of cold water,
op getting up in the moming, without any feel
ing of thirst, under the impression; of the health
giving nature of its washing-our qualities.
To economize time, by robbing yourself of
necessary sleep, on the ground that an hour
saved from sleep is an hoargained|or life, when
in realit/it is two hours actually lost and half
a dozen other hours aotually spoilcd. r
To persuade yourself that you are destroying
one unpleasant oder by introducing a stronger
one, that is, attempting 'to sweethh' ybur un
wished garments and person enveloping
yourself in the fumes of musk/ eai de cologne
or rbse water; the b 9 st &daa
skin and well washed clothing;' ' ;
I®? A young man becoming engaged latelyi
traa desirous of presenting his intended wltha
appropriately iqscribeid'; , bjji, jvt : a loes
what to ham eDgratea upon it ; called upon his
father for advice.- ‘‘ Weß,” said the old man,
9 n » “ When tlrter; yon see, remember mei-
Xhe young lodywasmuch surprised ; a few (fays
after, receiving a beautiful ring with this in
scription; ■“ When this you see, remember/ath
fr-’V’ ' ■ : ;.1f : ■ f; ■
■ 8S» A few days since, a barber offered a re;,
ward of $lO for the b«rt Woeipt for “ instantly
removing superfluous hair.’' Among the answer
yra{| ope .forwarded by a gentleman who speaks
%m .experience. W® give it" undertake to
kiss a sgunky woman against her will.” ,
|!S?“ £r®P.ti(je says that between- a Douglas
■fever and Breckinridge sweat, office holders
have a hard, time generally. Their feelings lie
on one side, tbeir bread and butter ion theotherj
and they themselves Its generally.
EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS.
A DOM2&BTIU SOIEANC^
, The papers relate the following story One'
morning last week, a scene occurred on the
train from New York south, which fora time
created quite an excitement among tie paasen
gen. Among those on the train, was a lady
about thirty years of age. She was good-look,
ing and attracted much attention from her air of
melancholy. At Princeton, a sun-burnt but
▼cry handsome gentleman entered the oar in
which the lady in question Was seated. No
sooner had the parties glanced at each other
than the lady swooned. On recovering heftelf;
it appeared that/the gentleman.. was her hus*
band, whom she had. not teen for ten years.
He hod started for California when the gold fe
ver first broke out The porties.at that timete
rided in Princeton, New Jersey. The husband
was taken sick and did hot recover for-some
time. Prior to his convalescence the lady: had
gone South, in the capacity of * goyernem, and
wrote that fact to her husband, who, unfortu
nately, did not receive her letter.. No answer
to his letter reaching him, hO thought hia wife
was careless of his welfare. A feeling of
came over him, and he returned to the,Stats# a
few weeks ago. Meantime 4he lady had fallen
hfirto a large Southern estate, lefthesjiya
member of the family in which she had been
teaching. - These explanations being mode,the
opce more united couple started on a Southern
trip together. There war certainly two happy J ’
persons on that train.
City Toads in the Ctounto**; :.
A gentleman liVing a shirt distance outcftW
city has been for d few weeks past importing
toads from Williamsburg and vicinity to ld*
garden; not, we imagine, with thi benevolent
idea of giving them a Sommer airing, but fo ea
tablish them in a permanent country resident*-,
and for very practicable purposes; Until re
cently this animal has been almost
garded as of no possible use; bat anhobrspent
in the garden watching its movemente, will cob
vince the most skeptical on this point that &ese
little creatures, however uncbnth iheymoybe/
in appearance, are yet a formidable foe to the
insect world. Hopping around among the pianfS,-
and gobbling down the worms and indents by
the dozen, they prove themselves usefbt gaSrdi
ans of the cucumber and other vines, which at«
so infested by vermin at this season of the yeak
The toad feedd on flic?, beetles, and! wbnnsbf
all sorts. As on evidence of Ins voraoloda appe
tite, as many as fifteen beetles have been foiu(d
in the stomach of a single' toad. An anhndl
productive of so much good is snnly r
of more esteem than it receives from tba ftr- -
men. tsi •
cross-grained and surly man, toff
crooked ny nature to keep still, wentovertd
Ms neighbor, Mr, F——, and addresrtd hUa
thus : That piece of fence is mine, 1 ' andyod
shant have It.”
“ Why,” Replied Mr. F
mistaken, I think.”.
‘ “ No, no, it’s mine, and I shall keep it.” • '
“Well,” said F-——.“suppoSewe leave )!
to any lawyer you shall : -
•*I won’t leave it to any lawyer,” Aid tfe
Others ■
“ Well,” continued Mr. F--~%
leareit to any four men in the rillage that ydu
shall 1 selectT” ; : ■■■ P: ’;
“No; I shall have the fence:”
Not at all discomposed, i Mr.
“ Well* neighbor, I shall leave it
say to whomit does belong—to yon’ ot n»e. w>
Struck dumb by the appeal, the frothy mah
turned away. eaying; -
“ I won’t haveanything *> do
that Won’t contend for his own tights.”
Quaker lately popped - the qaestioa to
a fail* Quakeress thus: -
“Htun—yca, verily; -Penelope, the spirit
ahd moveth me wonderfully to’beeitaoh '
hee to cleave unto me, flesh of my flesh! had
)one of my bone.’ }.r’ '
1 4 Hum—trnly, Obadlah, then hut wisely said,
and inasmpoh as lt« hot good fop inaa te be
alone, 1 will-sojourn withthebl” ; •
' A gentleman, Inhis eagernessat the ti.
blpto*nswera call fcr <some apple p!e, owing
to the Imife slippling outlie bottom ofthe'dlsli
fbond his knuckles harried in the eras(,irhen a
wag who sat just opposite to him, Terygrayely
observed, while he' held * his' plate: FU
trouble you for a&t of -pie whUe'yourhapdbj
;
‘ \
A nan from the' country, whose trlft
bs3 elqped and camed : off the feather-bed, wks
ia Louisville in. search of them—not thSt hi
anything about the wife, « butthhftath
ere,” said he, *» them’s worth forty-eight cehte
a pound.” ■ ' ’ ; "
11 shit it Che reasopi that. you
your wife always, disagree?” ' ' ' s '~’ ■*
*« obe jabbers, it’s ! kase. tre’re /botti of qne
she wants to be jnasteri and so dh ft” '
would! learn Hoir to bow, watch' S
mean man when he talks to a gentleman oif
wealth.' ■ ■' ' ; ■
BSu*‘ I got soma, boat in that bargain,** as
«Sid when he got kicked out of ddon.
iQT He that is too good for good advleeig
too good for bis neighbor’s company .
~
U 4O
w
♦
'«! T /,
SO. 30,
■, ‘‘fbu ihast be
t ■. ■ ;
>' •• N
H.‘; f