VOLUME 19. TILE WEEKLY OBSERVER, MatZl PA: SATURDAY AIORNING. SEPTEMBER '30.'1848 TAYLOR MEETING For the Erie Observer ou Saturday evening last. understanding that there ass to be a Taylor meeting at the Court HOMO, we walk.' Am to hear what could ho said to uphold that sinking mac . When.wo entered, we •found the meeting thinly ,;tended, and James 0. Putnam, Esq., who had kindly c aseated to come from Buffalo and che'er ,up the des i,,aiag Taylor men of this place, on the stand. From la remarks we judged that ho had just opened his bat tly, as ho was making all the excuses and apologies_ neat at the commencement of a speech in a bad cause. The first half of his speech was consumed in endeavor to make whigs believe that Taylor was a whig—the a d "Dimon pure"—that he occupied a position elevated iNTO the fogs of earth, and hence the very groat trouble ern of candor have had to perceive his whigery, or tell ractly whore he did stand ; in ahem, that Gen. Taylor ,as a superior being, scarcely partaking of human frail 0, or subject to human weaknesses—a kind of poll& : dtiodnerid, calculated and fitted to redeem this bound .llcountry fmni the curse of locofecoism, and that ho— Nr, Putnam, of Buffalo—alone, of all that assembly, 1 , 1 1,1 per' oive it. lie was "on Pisgah's top—could see r aw, bathe freer, and felt more glorious than he tut did before," and tho audience, when they got up to ,h e re he was, and could see Taylor as ho saw him—a c hi t —would feel so• too, would " see clearer, breathe , t r,at,l feel their political strength renewed," and af erconqiiming about an hour in this interesing subject, sid ptoved nothing at all except that the Whig party aro ; :,e greatest „poptital dunces of which wel have any ac aunt. they ieni up a general shout at the proof of their two foolishness and depravity. , . After linishing this part of his speech', he took up what ned forTerly to bo tho Whig principles:, 1 Ile assumed ..he most ultra wing positions relative to internal improvo•t' mats obat die general goiernment had power under the Coitgitution to go to all lengths in appropriating taw,. for building canals, railroads, tunneling moun tilos, and building tape-worms, the very doctrines :hat we h'are beard repudiated over and over again by t whig orators of ibis Community. lie then reviewed he tariff; maintaining the most ultra whig grotinds, a protective tariff to enrich and pamper the ittanufae. :INN et the expense of the farmer and mechanic, and enable glittering wealth to ride down and oppress w•orthi• laborers of our country. fin then attempted to throw a few shot at Mr. Van TM and the Barnburners generally—claimed the Whig rather Taylor party as the only true free soil party on • face of the earth—said that General Tailor was in rot of the IVahnot Proviso, ,and that Gen. Cass was ,•dfied to veto it; said that lie did not blame Mr. Van because Gon. Cass introduced the two-thirds rule .11 the Convention of 1814 for the express "piirpose of leatingitim: thinking that ho could make the people :•I:tve that Gen. Cass was in the CoUvention, and not tually affected by the two-thirds rule with Mr. Van Bu s: in short he filled his speech with a series of the :nit unblushing and barefaced falsehoods that 1 have et L , y time heard from a public speaker, winding up by ying that Gen. Taylor and the universal whi l i g party ere in favor of everT measure for the welfare of the ..nntry, and that Gem Cass was pledged to volo every tnetostra. , Mt.. Pathan' wanted to elect a wilig president and get A. country under a whig administration, fearing that in fitv years; the people would become so in Pressed with 'erorrect policy pursued by the democrats, that they Juld not be induced to change—that if the country could .ce see the democratic policy working in all its beauty, ; %avid bo useless for the whigs to attempt to ever again time power—the only rational thing he said during tic evening. Ile was followed by Mt. Clapp, of tho Buffalo Express. ‘ho ftled himself Mr. Putnani's "dry nurse." told 60111 e "morons flurries, and sat down, showing his good sonso in doing. co. 011.31.RVATUS. IT Col. J. R. Snowden ( Treasurer of the Mint at and lady, arrived in this city, on Saturday ‘.txing. tic is stopping with his brother-itt.law, Jadge tiompßon. TAII or, 011(3.4Ni Dtscos•'Ttstt:u.—Fayotto county a Ohio, ha, heretofore boon it strong Whig county, sup. , oning all nhig papers—•the Banner and intelligencer. lloth have 'been discontinued since the nomination of ;Pn. :Taylor, for want of suppOrt, and Taylorism has no v,:an in that county. •t CHANCE FOR AN AsTo r ocOortt.—,One of the political ;IPtr advertises for an astrologer to read the stars" in /otter, as publiffitecl in the Now York Express' Ifni manic tvl—:Oen. Taylor's last—which the N. Wane says, •.is the next best thing to none at all" —it ii said in Now Orleans was written by the editor of New Orleans Picayune—professedly a neutral print: A eerretpondent of the New Orleans Morning Chronicle, :t only detects the finger marks of the Picayune editor .1 the phrase "riven from the context," and several allich occur in this Second Allison letter, but I.ldA: "The fact, too, of the presence of the editor of the P i'arine, at Pascagola, when it was written, and its ap ;,tarance in the city shoultanously with that of the letter, ce confirmatory proof of what however is sufficiently manifest on the face of the letter." If thin he no, the Picayune 'editor will have a bone to lick with him of the Tribune. • L 7 Gen. Peter Sken Smith, the great leader of tho Philadelphia Nativists, and a brother of Gerritt, the nom t.” of the Abolittoniats, says that Lewis C. Levin has IteilPtaced m notnivation in utter disregard of precedent t , ,ot .g the Natives. Ho says ho intends to vote the Na.. "," itnenene Electorial ticket, and for an independent '''`Algit and Ready candidate for Congress, if any be pre. .Pat,d. lie can't go Levin. Oa Shrank river, Jasper county, lowa, old Hainlin ,4. 1h3 two sons murdered Nieoly, a boarder in their and burnt his body to ashes in the night. Their wa $lOO which Nicoly poured. The ruffians aro i'sted, and one of the sons has turned state's evidence. Fotirteen different lives of (Ten. TnylOr have.boen i'4%.Atfd adapted to all sorts of tastes and shades of '?ni.n. north and south, and in all Ilia live languages Fqh3pl that number of lives is not too many for a can : , date who is now in tho receipt of abuot four times tha :Amber of rations a day. it Two miles of the track of tho Galena and Chico. Railroad has been laid down, and a car is now run rig alien it loaded with rails to continuo the road. It ttpe, ted the road will he finished rtetleci the wet prairie"' to thn Olt Vortfit, Ton 7111: Witomi CAM:AM:Tr.+ The raverenti gentleman in Tennessee tvho conducts the June,boto' Whi ;! , has concluded at length to support Gen. Ta)ler. llis reasons are: rim That ii i 4 ptmaible that the Whigs may get en' l' o :.ms‘un l of the old General, and manage him and it•M schnlion na they please. That it is possible that Gen. Taylor may in the course of four years; and then Fillmore, an ~Titseonatic Whig, will take his place, ,-•-, _ , . . , i [ . . i• .. ..- • . __ ~ . , 1 '' , , ' i::-ff ' •' ,--' , - e , • , - . :: ' 1 ... ..., -11: - ,, , e , ,i,",hlif:. I'' 1 ` : I , . 4 0. `.4 , - 'V " I :11 •` - 1,,q, , L ' f' i..i , . '" ''.: ' '4 :: • 't/I' . . , F ..„.„.... ..........,,,, ! . , ... . :,.., ~ „. ~....,.. ~. _,.,„,,,,.....,....,.../.........i. . ~....... .. . . ..., .... - 4 „,.....,.... , I , ;...., .„, • ...... „ ...... . . fielett poetra anb WHERE. BY REV. RALPH WITT. • A nurrte youth would follow Hope, To roam through pleasure's fairy land, The portali of delight to ope, , To feast the eye and All the hand, To drink of fountains fresh and clear; And rest in bowers safe and fair. But still as oft as Hope Bald;—here !• And bade Wm slezettrobliss !retore:, The disappointed youth said—Where • I lie wandered from his . nntive vale, Allured by voices from afar, Boft breezes fanned his ready sail, And o'er the wave arctic' a star ; Ile trusted then the tranquil sea, Some Paradise to seek and share, But In the fairest Eden, he O'crworn with weariness and care. Ftill sad and listless, murmured—Wherel Then, instant, as he lookcdheyond, Sonic new teintation would arise, Some seeming angel fair and fond, Some casket that contained the prize, ' 'l' were hut a moment's space to reach, The briefest Journey liere . to there, Hitt ;Inn could soon encaiiipass each, Yet as lie grasped the empty air. Some distant cave would echo—Where' Caine Beauty dazzling then his eye, And cast her spell around his heart, midnight seemed a sunlit sky, ' Such glitter did her glance impart: lie sprang enchanted to adore, To thitte"r in her silken snare; C., Alas: the vista; soon was der; A blighi—andigl the bower willitiet ~, • And Beauty's rode witaimilig Vitae? Then heard he on the Mr a blast, A wildly sweet inspiring strain; - Aloft a niournicd look lie cost, And there was Hope's bright form agnint • Before Min rose a rugged steep, lts sunlit bore a temple fair; • Up; said Ambition, onward sit cep, For fame's immortal Joys prepare; But still his weary heart Enid—Where? So tasted he life's choicest wine, Wealth, honor, all they can secure; • ' Yet did his longing soul repine, They were not tasting, true, and pure: Still seemed the guerdon far above The proudest height his foot could darer Then came the word of heavenly loN'e, fly yonder dews go breathe a prayer, Ile knelt, and 10, his Ilser was There! From Morris & Willis' Homo Jouriml THE LbST GLOVE; OR. Tux LADIPO PRZIBOINO-DIAID. AT Ivn.ss msrrA vtcronlA rvituit, ellArTlill 1. A LITTIA: GIRT, was sting in the September sunshine that fell in checkered gleams across the old wooden steps in front of a decayed and totter ing building, in one of the by -streets of the Empire City. The sunlight seemed like it pleasant visitor, as it crept from her little nuked feet and ragged dress up over lieedimpled arms and shoulders, and nestled -amid the shining earls, hanging in dishevell ed profusion around her sweet and childish face.— But as it grew more inquisitive, and stole under her drooping lids; to discover the color oilier down -I,[llll. t . ' , " OC, IL • sorrowful-looking tears, just creeping down to the edge of those silken lashes. Just at• this moment, a young man who was'pass ing by, stopped short in his hasty walk, to gaze for a moment on the sunshine, the tearsoind the beau tiful little creature before him. He was a poet and a painter: and struck by the exquisite grace and beauty of hersface and attitude, perfect in their un conscious and unstudied loveliness, he • sought to impress the image upon his mdmory. " What a glorious picture I have stumbled on," said he: "I must have that picture tears, sunshine, and all. It will win me fame." ,Tlre little maiden threw up the lashes glittering with moisture, and perceiving a stranger, with an artless but sad smile, held out her hand, and said "Please, sir, just a sixpence for my mother." The stranger looked at the little, pleading hand, and forgot the beautiful face. It was just such a hand as he had dreamed of, had sought for, but, hail never before found. Even though belonging to a child, its tiny proportions were moat exquisitely de veloped—rounded, delicate, dimpled, tapering, pew lea! In the rapture of an artist's joy, the yonng man caught the beautiful little hand in his ant pressed it to his lips. The child looked surprised and frightened, but she said, meekly: • • " Only a sixpence, sir," in her childish, musical voice. "Certainly, certainly," replied the artist, for the first time comprehending what she said,' and empty ing a handfull of dimes in her -lap. "Oh, thank you!" stud she, her large blue eyes darkening with a flash of delight; ."you are very kind sir." " I should like to paint your portrait, pretty one: and 1 will give you as much more money, if, when f,come for you to-morrow, you will go home with me, and let me take, youi. likeness." " What is that?" asked the wondering child'. "Oh; I.( will show you, to-morrow—something very pretty." " Well, I will go, sir, if mamma will let me." • The artist, all enthusiasm at his precious cry', stepped gaily down the street, and the little girl bounded away in the oppesite direction, to buy a loaf of bread for her sick mother. " See here, Mr. Baker!" said she, joyfully, spring ing into a little bakery where a hard-featured .man• stood behind the counter—" I may have the bread, now, for mother—mayn't I?" and she held out her little hand, grasping 'tight the shining pieces of silver. • "Eh! where did you get that, little girl? Of course, you can have the bread, when you can pay for it." "Given to me, sir." - "Humph! on account of your bright eyes, I sup pose. Catch me giving bread; or 'money," either, to folks, because they are pretty;" and laying out a loaf of bread, he took one of her dimes in exchange. "Ohl" exclaimed the child, her eyes. falling on a a? few or gee ranged in the window,. "I'll take an orange, ,too—it will please mother so." , Ario ter dime was taken: and with . the loaf of bread/and the orange, she flew back to her comfort less and destitute home. . "See here, mother, what I've brought you!" she. exclaimed, - gaily, bounding ihto the' wretched apart ment; but she. stopped short, and letting fall her treasures, sprung 'Abe bedside, where, pale and motionless, a woman lay dying, alone and unatten ded.. , • . The ashy lids were 61oSed over her sunken eyes;' her colorless lips were parted, and the breath came slow and struggling,-from her scarcely heaving bo som "My mother! my poor mother!" shrieked ,the child, winding her arms around the emaciated form of her' parent, and covering her cold, clammy" hrow with kissei. • " My eitildi" said the mother, faintly—"l am dy , log, my Stella." _ "Oh, mothet:!" sobbed the little girl. And these two words, and the tone in which they were said, coming, as they did, from the heart of a child, were fraught with an agony of grief and suffering: "Stella," continued the dying woman, "title ring, SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 30 . 1 (with a strong effort taking it from her Anger 'and giving it to the child,) keep - it alWaysl—never, never pait with it—it may sometime bring you friends. , Stella—God bless thee, my poor orphan;" and clasp ing her child convulsively to.her, bosom; she heav ed a deep sigh, and sank back Upon her . dead. • All that night, the little girl sat alone on the . .wooden steps, now drying her eyes to look up a(the• sweet, bright stare, where she thought• her mother , had -gone; •-• and again. sobbing and wailing most touchingly, tilt, just as; the rosy, tint of dawn crept,. over the great•city, froth ; mere exhaustion t 'the fell, asleep on her hard , That day the artist did not' come. An affair 'of itnpoitapce called hirri fitn the city for a 'couple of weeks; and when he returned; and still fulf Of the thought of the little maiden, went to look for. `her, she was - gone, and the old house _wasruntentinted.. =NM A month afterward, he sai l ed fur gloriou CHAPTER 11. Eight years after this occurrence, on ti evening of October, soon after:sunset, a gel was promenading through Broadway. .Jut vance of him, tripping gracefully over the pi a young girl of tight and elegant form, in a but rather plain dress, and close cottage h was admiring her graceful tind gliding ate he suddenly paused. She h i ed dropped ont gloves. He picked it up, It was a dui!' creation of white kid, just the least bit in tl soiled by'cOntact with the:pavement. " Exquisite !" muttered' he, hurrying al fair loser, with - tree commendable intention of ing it, and, perhaps, making the acquainta ady who wore suck a glove. . _ But berwas a moment toolate; for, just a overtaking her, she turned suddenly and the steps of an elegant dwelling. &lane pretty feet on the edge of the marble door stood forlialf a moment with her hand on ished knob., The hand was ungloved,, - snow s and beautiful as.it could be. She op door without ringing the . bell, and disapp the hall. Of course, she resided there . .The gentleman placed the little glove in I! et, took down the number of the residence, a' ed aWay. It was twilight when lie reached his 1, and going immediately to his, rome, - he' tht. self into an arm-chair by the itulowyand a reverie; from whickhe, was awakened by once of a visitor, whose, unceremonious put to flight a whole clotid of 'angels gloves, and little, matel hands' without thi - "Why, sky, Ernest, haw do you do?- 7 . hear me?" • "Is it possible! I beg your', pardon! my Hal—, how are your ex e laimed the springing from his, chair, lid shaking hi most sensibl y by the hand. "Why, how changed; eight years have improved you must confess." "I can return the compliment, with intetJest," re, plied Hal, gazing admiringly upon his friekid's ele gant form arulatrikingly handsome and in Ilectual countenance. "European polish has doe much, even for you. . But 'how have :youlared; ow sue ceeded? have you realized, half your, your dreams, of glory? has the artist been as successful as the poet ?—for we have occasionally been-taw red here with some of your luxurious fancies, done 1p admi rably in beautiful verse." "I fear you flatter me, Hal: but with regard to my painting, I have been almostas successfulas I could ,wish—tlittt is, for one who pursues it mere ly for. his. owniamusement.". , "Quito an accomplished amateur, ell?" The two friends sat, down to converse times, and the happy present, and the pi ft. pr. Ernest Dunmore had indeed, not spent ei in travel in cultivating his line taste and inti gifts, without returning to his cluntry an' ingly refined and fascinating man. "By the way, Hal," said he suddenly i ing his friend in a, glowing description of cipations of the future, "can you tell me wl lady resides at No.—Broadway?" "Why, Isidore - Allen, our city belle. I seen her? She is a beautiful - ,creature—ii all of . us. , ,And that just reminds , . me tha with a pressing invitation from the Bentley! to attend a grand party there to-night. will of course be there." "Then I shall, certainly!" was 'the anir "Why, Ernest, you must hove seen this of beauty. In love, so soon, after resisti blight eyes and beivildering smiles of for fection for eight years!" "Indeed, you tare mistakene. lam n that I.have seen thisbelle of yours—at ler never seen her face." , "Well, you shall . see her `to-night. The WEN', have heard of your arrival, and are on tip oe to be- , hold the wonderful Mr. Dunmore, the poet, the, painter, and the millionaire." "How very nattering!" returned Ernest, smiling a quiet but perfectly satisfied smile, as hel turned to the mirror to arrange his Wet fai the el'ening.— What_ gentleman possessing grace, accompliSli- ' ments, intellect, and the advantages o personal` beauty arid great fortune,-would not be little in clined toward a pleasant feeling of vanity? . None, certainly—at least, not Mr. Ernest Dunmore. h was laic in the evening When Hal I-In leton rind his friend entered_ the brillant and crowds rooms of the Bentleys. A lady was at the Man . It was Miss Alen, and the gentlemen edged t rough the throng, - and . reached the instrument jut.. as the sweet voice of the belle was trembling o the con cluding stanza. She was certainly a bea tiful crea ture,ti,. just nineteen, with glorious dark ey s,Sweep ing lashes, an exquisitely' curved mouth nd finely chiseled' featuresti graceful form, too; hut her hand—a 'shade of disappointment darken d the fine face of Ernest—it was a very pretty hat d, slender and tapering; but it was not the hand—it could not wear such a glove. "A radiant' creature! isn't she?" whis l es she rose from the piano: "Very pretty," was the disappointed r "Very pretty!" was the rather indigo !talon. "She is peerless, unequalled, di ."But her hand!" ~ At this moment, the ed towards them, and Hal prm.ented his Ernest Dunmore; and soon the two most d ed personages present—the belle and millionarie—were:promenading through t assembly. Ernest found his bright comp ly - bewitching. ,She ,was witty, learne beautiful—he would.certainly , have been had itnot been for the little kid glove Alia on his heart, and the perfect little hand I on the door:kitOb. - . ;.. As it' Was, his heart palpitated slightly ,be,neath its tiny Areas colored twice,and.stammered once—the , 1 ed' Mr. Dunmore! The belle was unusually charming.' she had made a decided- and most ogre quest; she had quite a passion for painti would hitve, a room prepared fur the exhi, works to hisfriends by the day after to •tte would be happy to wait on her ther•, her opinion: no doubt' tier criticism .value. And they'separated; triittonlly p 1:, little glove! what, will be thy fate? , - _lsidore Allen was slOwly proMenadh the exhibition-room ? leaning on the en Dunmore. lie Was more thin ever en:i her grate, her fine taste, and her lovelt was- very entliuSiastic; and her cbservatit correct judgement and • cultivated test sighed as he stole aglance at her hand— was not a perfect erm- r -and thought of ti Carefully laid=on his dressing-table. rirorryrAnzo_,m „ , CHAPTER, HI. of Ernest j ichtintid '-She shriived te. • Ernest -it certainly the glove so "This," said Ernest; as ha'-'threw ak ,which hung - civet-a paintinffs "Iconsidt. piece." . "Beautiful! beautifu !""said - Isidore, and the tears 'sprang uucalled.into her dark,! soft ey it, at the ex treme loveliness of picture.. Err est Preceived them; and, thmighti them the !deares Arlbute that could be paid to his powers es an arti t. It was a picture of ttie little. girl, the sunshine, - and the - old 'wooden stps. ,I"bere \vat' thexhildish, ;graceful attitude, the ittle f pleading hand ,so prettily, the daneingg curls of gold, and the tear ful fringes ' ili Oki it': Lop 'fkiiii' " her' large; mournful, ;beautiful eyeP, and overall „the rich, . warm, glow ing light, slumbering roftly,over-the rightlyb sor 'rowful picture.. - .. . -,. • , 1., ~ • . : ' : . "Precisely!" exclaimed Isidore, afte regarding it an instant; "it , iis:theiVery •fikeness of Stella May, k my pretty little dressing.hnaid. - • One I would think it copied froth her, jest a . she looked eight years ago, when mamma hiedtither home as my com panion and assistant." I . ' - "Indeed!" said Er est,l while a flash Of .surprise and delight beamed o er his face; "will you tell me something about your! St4lla May!" I • • "With pleasdre; for I. at her alWays in con nection with some romance or another; she is so pe culiar, such a strange being. I woe! only a child myself, when, one day, mamma mks visiting several poor people, to whom she frequently afforded assist ance, when she noticed a little girl Sitting. in the doorway of an old building, weeping bitterly. She spoke to her kindly, but the little girl only raised her head aJnoment,and then sobbed more wildly than ever. !My mother—my dear I mother—they have buried my mother!' was all she could make her say. Touched by her grief, and maims to know if she was left frieddlesl,," mamma entered the house, "which she found eilely deserted and unfurnished. What little wretche furniture had remained,'had been seized by the neighborsin payment for•various little articles which they had sometimes given the woman before she died... The mother had been bur ied by the puor officers, and the child was left un pitied, unprotected, homeless and destitute. Mam ma took the 'little' si,eifferer into her carriage, and brought her home. poi. days she refosed'all conso lation, weepitigall day and . sighing all night, as if, her young heart had broken with its grief. But we were all very kind to her, and, gradually, she be came inure contented; and _when,. .at length, she smiled, or warbled le herself notes . of music that she had .heatd, ehildl as I was, 1 loved her for her beauty and sweetnesp",: We" knew there , Must 'be most unused circumstance connected with her, for she had a ring, engraVen, on the inside, with her name, 'Stella May: l , and• then she was so naturally lady-like and refined; so tasteful and intelligent, it seemed as if the very- spirit'of :grace breathed and lived'in everything' she said or did. Mamma con gratulated herself on having found IMO a treasure of a companion for her daughter; an', as for, me, Stella was my dependence--for she youthful patience by a dried and withered specimen 'of of governess.—. Though three, years the 'youngest, he was more ready than I id every branch of stud', which mem ma allowed her to . pursile, merely to'g miry me. Mu ,sic,-of course, Who not included. 'But ror this she had such a passion, and- iseenied so' utterly wrapped up 'in it, that I really felt grieved not to bate hershare inmy lessons. She never said anything about it, but the tears ,would Start to leer eyes when 1 left her for the practice-rpm; so, at' length I persuaded mamma to let her rake 'teasel's, too. And such a mitered talent as she has iA really wonderful!—she performs the most divinely on the harp of - any one 4a.....-1.....d I - Theo she hes such an exquisite taste in dress! I ,do 'notl pretend to exercise the least judgement : with regard to the . arrangement of icy wardrobe—site so far - excels ice in all such matters. - Dqhfittil4§sl n Y,,itaitmar. mtlllll9 - e.oliagrol -- tt thesbing-maid! 1 d'o believe, if she'Were to be bro't , out:.-despite the'ethjantages of foitune;—sho would throw me - quite intolthe shade!". "That would'he 'quite impossible, Miss 'Allen.— But do you, never introduce this fair ,!wonder to your friends?"' f I . "Al4l see!", : said the lady laughing, . . Italy. pleaeant ntlema n at in ad live, Was tasteful t. He ry when 4 of her ity little e world fret the return co of a I he was nounte4 ing her sill, she he pol hite. as lened the eared in is pock d walk- gings; ow . him .nnk into he pros , ntrance kite kid wi't you lid chum !reamer, s friend ou hare r natty, 1 upon old rotnising 0 tut years ellectual exceed- terrupt hie anti at young like:to get a glimpse other rare beauty! ,Cory well! —as you are an artist, and she look's so very much like this painting of yours, I wilt huinor_yriii;' if pes sible: But she has too much native delicacy to ev er yield to my anti itations to appear in the parlor; j so I shall have to bring her here. , • Mr. Hazleton will call for us Jo-morrow?" she said, tu3 that gen man approached. "Certainly; I shall -only feel too much •,honored:" And the three continued oh their . way round the room. - - I—. are you eviitches t I came s for you iss Allen nted re- ! paragon lig all the eign per- The nest day, as the snowy fingers 'n't Stella May were wreathing 1114 dark hair of• her mistress into shining braids, Isidore said—" Would you not like to visit the exhibition-room of our now artist this afternoon, Stellar .t certain I have "Yes, lady, very pull," replied the young girl; but—" "Nay, Stella, yoil moat 'go, just to oblige me.— There is a picture tliere that I admire very much, and I know you wo uld . love to Bee it." • • "Indeed, lady, l' l cantioi tell you how much I lovei everything. beautiful—my harp, my Bowers , and,my ovyn beautiful Mistress," said the y oung maiden, in a trembling and slightly mournful voice; "but such things make.ine Sad and unhappy; when I know I ought to be grateful and contented. {But I willgo." How wildly the , heart of Ernest Dunmore throb bed and palpitated When his eyes met those of Stella May. Thebtightpstdream, the loveliest fancy, the sweetest vision cif fliis poet's soul, looked on . him through those eye S---the one embodiMent of all his heart had longed An; and not found lived, breathed before him! The Pure, girlish, spiritual brow—the deep, dreamy, shadowy eyes—the _sweet mouth, beautiful in its expression, of subitied repose—the eloquent color,Comidg.abd going in ter cheek, jest s s the thoughts carneand went in hereon!: There was u proud reserve mingled with the ineffable grace of horinianner, that nn princesi could surpass. , Ernest almost forgot to notice her hand, till she raised it to smooth back a truant cud that had stolen from the 1 confinement of liei• straw hat. It 'Was the hand he had looked for eightlyeand, She wore but one glove —where was itsi i Mate?. •Ernest - lsmiled, and his heart gave a bound against the little white treasure, that had again found its way - to his vest-pocket.- And he had once held that heautiful 'hand in Ids— had'pressed it to' hislips:'ivould he ever clasp it again? For ,EineS(Dunrnore,was a proud million. aire..and'Stella MY was a dressing-maid! They paused firatbeforea lovely Ipict. Tea' sunset —an Italian seeng. ; Stella vied at it with a flush ed cheek and brightening eye: ',...,;'• :: , 'Do you love Italy?.—would you Alike to visit it,, Miss Mayr 1 tl • ":I have dreamed of, it ever," replied the young girl, raising her soft eyes innocently to hercoMpanr: ion's face. I;; There was something peculiar in his earnest gaze, and the silken lashes drOpped slowly toward the deepening color i t her cheek. Isidore Allen observ cd the manner of both, and when'Stellti , raised:her 1 eyes, she ,curled her full lip very slightly, but it ealletlthe crittison to that' gentle brow, and a 'bash of pride to tliose, l 'deep, beautiful eyes. Isidore was sorry in a moineni—sheiviis . usually_ so' kind,and considerate; but I! . .kn i est - ha excited her athbitiOn, and she, was jealousi—of her dressing-maid. , 'Rut she Itnew,Mr.Dtininore to be proud and fastidious, f a e n a d ra. the next, ino nein she smiled at her own. , vain 1 : c "And now for the pictur I told you of, Stella," said Isidore; art the four paused in front'of 'the veil ed, . ;• . . „ .• painting. '{ ,` .• -' 1 ' “Cfnly ii'slicpence, please; sir, my -- mother;' 'repeated Ernest, fixed on' the maiden's face, as he I win. ! - , --, o'red Hal, ME nt ejacu / iner lady turn 4ietid, Mr. stingnisb he artist ic brilliant nion real 4, brilliant, fascinated, wars lying c had seen h u lled and , re, and ' he ceonylish -1 • bethought able eon igs.,,Ernest ition•of orn.mi;3lld I , and bear, I could be of lased. Poor g throug h ide the cloth r my master- 'ou would CHAPTER IV. to buy bread far keop,ig his eyes rew Aside the cur- , - Stella gazetilit it a momryand then up into.the t face of 'the 'artist, 'with a I ok of we deri lig ' inqui ry.' Their eyes met, and fella burs into teark— 'Peithaps' iv WWI the memor3 Of her mo her—perhaps 'it was this thoughtless and,Fruel remiMiing of what ; she had been—that so tan ted her. ' The artist was' embair seed. It subject' to mike • apologies for; and il and Miss Allen both looks surprised, and 'said 'frankly—"Forgi e me, M have wounded your feelin g . It and; indeed, I em verthay to meet tle girl who,' you see, I ha4'never foi "Then' this is a portrait ii id• our Stet lsidore,caressing the you g girl to i j ured 'fallings, '' l ' ' "Let us return, Miss 'Allen; I do said she; in n low 'done; told they That evening there was nib compan, and'Stelltichme crowd, at' Isidore's rl for her. "Oh, that Mr.', DunmOr• ,lovely upon the canvass'," watched her - beautiful cOm over the hirp, lost in he! rounded arm gleamed out like moulded snow, as the si ly band swept over the rp shadow of a fluttering ro.i, color hovered on her cheel al eyes were cast upward gainl look, as her bright,' gush of music thrilling u and melody. • •• , I The two maidens were I did not•hear;the . ring of Ith gentleman who stood, hat parlor. It was Mr.' ID charmed into silence, and till tho last quiver of the dore, perceiving him, exch “spell-bound, Mr. null - Stella started and blul hastily,'would have retro but Ernest detained her song. She recovered her lately, and complied grace The evening passed by a man of rare accomplish sources of amuseihent atid first time Stella hattevet booksstid her own highlti companions. It wee nn ing eagerly to every see; drinking in the enthuehis she forgot herself, her cirri, ness of her life. But she was doomed to, dream: Isidore saw it a! from her eyes as she saw the sweet loveliness atilt Stel In , you may retire, and stingingly. . • The young girl's cheek arose with the proud digni' ,Mr; Duminito good event A flush of indignation n head of Ernest Its she 'disa l , became cold and constrain! Isidore saw she had ma ten her position as a lady her life felt humbled. Si butishe failed; a visitor loft. • Whoscan tell the deep phin's heart, as she •thret strove ttr hush its wild ever cast its dim elutdOW young heart,, and now the ! ! Storm of anguish•that thre e flower •of hope she liat) , dir i l had ever appreciated hdr - away to the pauper's night ebe sobbed herself A I The iteit morning Stel nothing, though her head face burnt with-fever. I! her with her cruelty; but I! Would only deepen the wo ly that AO might keep he I Solitude•ivas grateful to tl BRIM Three veeke passed 'll%l had called but once on'th, winning liti , regard, she 1) with Hal ilazleton,:for she bad the most destingue. „ The Aliens nem all l i o Stella had gone down to seating herself by the epq her face in her hands. she still sat motionless, struggled up from her almost incoherently:— "And this is fate—my happy—cherkhed, loud, Oh: I am BO 0 11efir v l 'PY r - "Would to'be loved, el you happy, dear Stellar in tones of thrilling ten, round, her waist and line; "Ernest!" murmured her beautiful young foe " Stella! vision of my of mine! beautiful etnbo painter ever yearned for . my Stella!" 1 I i There was a hush thrJ broken, at last, by a !owl heart too full of happinei 1:3103 - It was a beautiful J tin light and heavy vitlt pc! the air floated over a de% the close, populous city. the chinch that morning,' the elite, drawn thither glimpse of the bride of aire. It was rumored,ll dressing-niaid to' be the complishthents.. Theiv sneers, and still more Wo were all hushed %hen' tl walked up the aisle. ' miration was all the sou to the rare loveliness of There was no bashfulne cple—only a beautiful t graceful as the veil that stood by the'side of her Isidore Allen and Hal lltt The' priest; in his •el comimenced the Orem thought—who should 4i important momenta no, prime Of life, stepped fo, daughter! . .7 It' wari rid t' ceremony p r oceeded.'l .• gtelln May wasrthei The bride and groom with their attenlants World stared in 'time su •nouticed wife. • .•• • • "My daughter! • 0. child! -and.may yoni heart's choice!" and the his *unie and kissed her Soniething told*Ste,ll. she wound her tuir itrth eat her warm tips to his 4 ! Stella!" said Ernes is a mistake!" !' "Let thia.be tho nro l l king a gold locket frOwl as a delicate is friend Hal but lie rallied, iss May, if I uintentional; again the lit gotten." la, 'is iir sa id .emove her in- of feel well," etired. in the_parlor, i quest, to play °. could pi .l thought 1, anion,'whl wn sweet from he mall fingeri livering at .o-leaf on a ; and her h ith a drea pa tremble' I from a suull !tore her thus - IWore, as she was leaning (melody.m tier ailing sleeve, of that love ings; like the lily, the soft right, spiritu iny; clear, for- I with the rich full of beauty Itbed that they nor notice the st inside the I"e' too, was nd motionless and•lsi iingly: oth so ohs( door-bell, in hand, ju nmore. ` wood mute 1 . arp died ,1 lined, long' 'lmre?" .hell crimsc led from tl y begging self-poziei lolly to his i elightfully ems and infortUritiot et with al oughts had !under, the nt of his ti i t of his dati iumstances, Vin, and . rising t ic apartment, for nnother .sion immedi regaest. Ernest was inexhaustible It %vss - the i ,teu a person; been her only , that listen ie and soul-lit eyes, all the sad- quick svn and disphl int bile v young or p now,'! ing from 'her rsure flashed is rivalled by ,Enid, quietly ! pale, but slid n, and bidding • partmenti ie white fore- . hid manner rew dead! y of a quee g, left the • ounted- to t 1 peared, an, I,cl. le a mis-ste , had for,t;nt and, for Ou r tirat time In e strove [el be gay and ,d in a few moments her isery in thp desolate or- herself briter couch and ,ItiolAin,g? • A 'cloud had In the 'happiness of that I loud had In.rst in a wild tened to annifillate,every cherished. Sensit i to frOrAlit; &roitii - ince they bard . her l-6 mOther i• l•place. Long after mid r, sheep. a was ill; But she said iched intensely and her .idore's heart reproached ':he knew that an apology ind, so she told her kind room if she was well. e orphan's heart. IMMO tty, and Ernest Dunmore belle: Hopeless of ever d renewed her flirtation phom, perhaps, after all, , if he was not quite" so t to a brilliant bridal party. be deserted pa Hors, Jim) ndid centre-table, buried ulf an hour passed by, and ,ut by-and-by the words bing, heart, broken and fate-I—while Isidore is so worshipped, even by him retched-:—so very piny- cashed, worbhi Heti, make said a rich,'_ manly voice, erness, as an arm stole her to her feet. e frightened girl, hiding in Lis bosom. _reams! radiant spirit-lave ment_of all the puet or the I am thino—all thine ugh the lofty apartment, sob, coming up from u Ert VI. morning, radiant w ith silt-t -riune where, occasionally, y garden in the midst of There was a wedding at 'and it was crowded with ut of curiosity to get a nest Dunmore, the million had chrism-. Miss' Allen's ariner of his wealth and ac. were many smites, sonic. dering remarks. But they lebridal-party entered and suppressed murmur of ad d, os every eye was riveted he bride's yount,r, (item—, .9, no awkwardness to ridi midity, as softening and as . floated round her, as she etrothed before' the altar. leton were their attehdahts. iqal robes, stood tip and ny, when they suddenly l e the e the bride away? - At this le-looking man, still itt the ward.and gave away—his e for extdanation, and the . ,1 • 're of Ernest Dunmore. mucediateiy 'changed places, ntb the Whole fashionable" priielia the good man pro d Harry 'Hazleton man and btosai yoti my, beautiful hdppy KMi your v • oUng ffireingp r folded Stella in v bite brow 'fondly:, . it Was indeediter father, and I , around his iieek'and press leheek:- ' • • in surprisp,giperhaps this eno !the stronger, to hie bOotn, containing two miniatures—one, evidently a likenes the other the very counterpart of the "NoUr mother, looked just, us you d I married her," said :tlr. May, regard daughter with eyes dim with tears.] " But!we parted in bitterness, and we and when I repented and went to se she had gone none ;knew whither. learned her mournful fate; but I Ott h have been for many years. to-day, , Beaten bless those who have been and he lookedgratefully at Isidore, to her husbanth "I always knew Stella May won mance." ,ct A'nd so we must go South, first, the orange flowers and myrtles nrou romantic, home, mpst weT' said Ern he handed his bride into the earriag Italy afterwards?" "If be wishes It, Ernest. But, eiiiiiosion I have dropped one cif — rny •'Oh! never mii4l, dear," said' Er] little white glove out of hie vest poet ing it to his wife with a very demur. "this will answer." ' "The glove I lost last fall!" said tt look of wonder. " Ahem!" said Ernest A Visit to Mount Ve I shall omit the description of th sions, and describe my visit at midni mit or Mount Vesuvius. ' Stepping numerous' tiacres on t' , e stand, at hist evening I was at Naples,.l w alone for Kesina, at the toot of the miles from the city. The ride alo through the pretty -suberbs, with the the waters of the bay, the approa and the development of the red (bawl, the mountain was a rare sight was seated on a puny, attended b mounted, and having u large torch. and animals are at the station alw there is a tariff of, prices for them. der the direction of the police, who watch iilng the route half way up t route to the hermitage i's a circuitu quired nearly three hours. From th view is had of the Bay and City of lava stream and belchings of cinder: and lava every few minutes from th stream, which a few days since had es, now merged together, was about three or four - rods wide, and lost space on the mountain side, where, coaled. The'crater, which is a regil top of the mountain, was sprinkled 1 red-hot pieces from the beichings, from the crater, in nearly a perpend 'great height, then falling . on the cid and rolling down the sides. Havit g ascended a few miles ahoy at the termination of the path, an, practicable for e horse to go, our an and then came the most difficult asc Tha whole . mountain, rising ,steep mile, want a mas 4 of volcanic - matte ditii;ront eruptiolis, and composed o lava, and- cinder S; and beside and i l beds no th ing by ashes , which is o substance It is impnsible o ascend god beds or roc e, and equ lly so tc , sand, where you cannot k ep your way is to go along the ed e of lavt foothold in the sand as mu h as pos on to the rocky edge; but t io'n we : 1 4 0 114..clitt.WX-.4earlY .1341 ...wil, fra light, stOpping,•every few moment, exha:ted :tretigth and roc ver brew eleven o'clock at' the su tmlt. I negtion thdt there are tw. attenda log of the ascent to assist, by rope. traveler;' but i refusedthei oars', n outdone by a,guide. Rest ng a fell wetting our dry throats, 1 e starter; the•cruter, and, - gropping ' ur way the immense masses of la a, in le hour we *ere withimeacl irot the t. which rolled down the craer. Hel view the showers above, Which se they would on owl heads. sight, and at every erupti.n the ro, cussion within the crater , dded mu In returning we passed o ,er beds hot, which had been ejecf , d from four days' prev:ous. Ha ing a rri% the descent was over a be. of sand' cumbered with a single tone, an, and rapid one; for, what with the every stride ‘t.as equal to .ix feet, t rapid from the impetus fo ward, tin matter to keep our cquilib iurn. us to where we left our I and which ha 4 taken an OVetCtOttle Remounting our nags, station, where, having pa in the (lucre which bud w solitude of the early mar along the road to Naples, glad I had been, and not 13ostuti dal Itogion Et tract of a lent r addre! kin to the Xavy Depar MONTIIRRY, (Cali "This part of CaWorld of great excitement from extensive gold region on II menu) river. MI our to‘l gold is obtained on tl three feet deep—the woH axe and shovel to, dig up t *wash it in. Many men, and June last, obtained ti I have niy.ielf see,, eight age filly ddllars each per I was with! them. This has been finli4l, over a tru e, We ; understand there in Wnshit4tcli about ti „inn, with ;specimens of of Culiforniln nre rapidly Yet Mr. Webster once s thins Were not worth n dl this (Weription that the recede! We have had the plea Shipman Edward Fitzge evening in the southern es faun Commodore Jon navy agent at Monterey, Pas on the Ist of Angu• Pacific to Vera Croy, period of 10 ilnys—from miles) NI 48 hours. Ills 'despatches, and *flogs, enntirm ,what is above of this new El Do f nothing like this gold r; by aeeident'.. The ice towns, the seamen the of gold, which is said to surfaee in great abut,* details last evening,at t' them out this morning. tonibb our reatiers in our IE7- A writer,spookin stirs that he should not no tin t n the night to visit niwife that was a physlt her called our, a n d kept NUMBE Num of himself, ride. now, when ng his bright e both proud; rch for her, 1 hare at last !Tier than I daughter.— ina to you," ho whispered d have a NI, nd roam amid d your lather's st Dunmore as , "and go to really, in the loved." /ebt, taking o •et and hand countenance, !ol bride, with a, uvitts. :le other excul-- !. !lit to the sum into one of t1.,1 :is o'clock, the s, on my way mountain, lire ig ,the shorce, setting st:n on h of darkness, tream of lava ,In an hour I ~ a guide, also These guides ays ready, and They are un- nantain a's;rict he ascent. The is one, awl re mce a beautiful .Naples, and the. , red-hot stones, a crater. The several bra nch a mile:long, and 'tself in 'a level it collected and liar cone' on the with myriads of which shOt up cular line, to a pe of the crater, the hermitage, I t ! as far as it is mall were tied, nt Fever made. above us for a thrown up by beds of rocks, between these a coarse black over the rug go up over the foothold. The keeping your .iblo by holding lipped at • every • to recruit our h, we arrived at have forgot to is at the begin— : the exhausted .t wishing to be moments, and for the foot of .ver and among t than half' au i d pieces of lava le we tarried to -med as though It was a fearful obling and con -11 to the scene. f lava yet quite Ithe crater only led at the brink, and ashes unin -1 it was a 'novel step and slide, Ind they were so kit was no easy len minutes bru't iilc in distance,- . much labor to rses, a t tour of s due time at the e, I took my seat eturn, and in the rapidly whirled and aking limbs, go again—Cor. se were i; the no.' ited my I• i s r i g th :t s. ar ' i ishing to . fCalifo sed by mend, du liontas 0. Lim id fly 1, ISIS. MEE esent in a stato Idkcovery • .of un e s of the Sacra coining Vacated. of the earth to ring only a pick a tin • pat) to . a is at pr, he late he branc , ns are bt , e surfuc men nee 'te dirt, u luring th .0 10 thir • months of Muy y dollars per duy. company) avcr o or three duys,l . public land, undL , intuited miles'," en (in t ay fur t% old is on t of °tie ire fuller Is extrao he gold. Idevelopi lid that tli !liar! is l ehigs art. detuils received dinury gold re. The resources g themseh•es.—. l ese new acquisi it a country -of to ret-, !log Passed-Mid whoarrived last brings despatch. Ir. Larkin, our a. lie left San aveled from the recedented short , Yera Cruz (275 lure of se, aid Beale oat. li es, and, Californ t, and t the tin) lexica t mints he hiinself Larkin's letter i'ere is said to be .ently discvered re deserting tho sels, iii svatch etl over a large 'o received these !n hour to brio:: II mouse' and as . IF'cts 1 / 4 • Union. - I the ucc aid is NI ado. T Tion, re !tellies be gath6 ance. m late They wi i ext pap 1 !female iihysicatia • [e his Wife called mat), If we had mould like to bare) against Ice to ha an other ' btu, t• lout too.
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