VOLUME 19. POETRY AND MISCELLANY, ix= OLD CILOC111:11q TED 8111?. Wit I. I. STODDARD. It stands in a cornea the room Behind the door, in the shade and gloom. In a heavy and antique case, Rich mahogany, maple and oak, Reacted and scratched and dim with smoke, And the hands are bent on the face! The knob and hinges nre red with rust. The top o' th' mouldings covered with dust, ' The panels are 11tosv with stains, And a ragged eb liken tattered pall Runs from its side to the sombro wall, And .?ver the u irdow pants The ilCndulunt 'Wings, the wheels go round, Making a dull, Tnotonous sound, Asti; vanishing moments fleet; A " lek,, tike the falling of grains of sand As 'line was pouring from out his hand The d at uryeara at his feet' lave vanished.-forgotten years— h their sorrows and sins and tears, their marks In the 111%11; I,ld have died, the young grown old— rations' have gone to mold, Clock survives them all. 1 card All wi And le The Gen Addy • . Beannifi I girl,' have watched the hours. , Knitti g at stand% fir working flowers In frames Orbroidery tine— And mornings, the yopng folks playing late. Wi.hed the moments fettered to "Eight," g ror the seliool Legan at "Nine:" Motherc with sons in distant land', Sorrowing. Mild its tardy hands. And dreamed of the meeting dear— Aid wives chose hurdiands returned at Melt Marked the time an the fading light. And listened fur foondeps near: Blushing bride• at their toilets gay. ln snowy robes on the happy day. Have waited the hoar to nee; And sick folks tossing on beds of pain. Cared at the Cluck again and And watched beside die dead! But 3 cars have va . piwlictl, and others till Their platl,;and the (41 Clock :datid: th still 'Picking milt' lin pride:— Hummer and I.Vinter, day and night, A Sexton chiming the Hours' flight, Tolling the knell of Tittle: The Old Love; and the New; 0)r, tlte Sequa to o 13a0clo bow. mitt.. cintltasi: H. BUTt Sure there's 1.)T1IC WOilder in thi, Itanker,hief!"—Ot • From this night, thoro seemed to he a tacit under standing between Miclo and nephew, thdt each should do as they pleased, without question or remark. Although professing great inthirerenco, it war easy enough to see, that Mr. EVerleigh was more interested in Walter's movements than he would care to make known: and as the time approachjd, when the "sacrifice of this -fine handsome young fellow to a woman" was to be Ampleted, it seemed to ho Ihis chief desire and study to promote the future comfort and happiness of the y oung couple. ~.. suite of l'OOn were r. . mg •r 1 ea, rind the bachelor even endured uncomplautinly the flittinVnd rustling up stairs and down stairs of women's garments; the scrubbing brushes, and window brushes, wielded by risve'ral respected female friends of old Tunis, who by the way, chuckled greatly over this invasion or the bachelor's territories. In looking over the morning papers. Mr. Everleigli one day noticed a fine collection of plants were to be dis posed of at auction - , in the upper part of the city; and thinking a choice little conservatory would be just the thing for Walter's young bride, he jumped ,into an om nibus for rho purpose of attending the sale. When he first took his Seat. there wore several passen ters. These, however. gradually dropped elf, until. us they reached Fourth street. their remained but one per son in the stage besides himself. This was a young man of dashing air, most fashionably attired, with heir enough on his face to have rendered the clippings quite as object' if speeclatlon to an upholster. Fur a short dis tance they rode . on alone, nod then the driver suddenly reigned', up his horses to the curb stone, a young girl sprang lightly within, and took her seat in the farthest corner of. the, stage, but on the same side as the exquis ite. She was evidently very yoliig, and the slight glance obtained of her countenance, es site brushed past him. convinced Mr. Everleigh that she was also uncommonly charming. c 2 Yet this dangerous fact did not in the least disturb his bachelor stoicism; and ho wotild probably have left the omnibus Without bestowing another thought upon her. had not his attention been suddenly drawn to the move-, insult of the fashionable fop, who, changing his Beat to the opposite side of the vehicitt seemed intent upon an noying the young girl with his bold, rude glances. By degrees he-' had edged himself into the corner directly facing her, and in ruch close proximity. that the blush ing girl could not raise her eyes, without encountering his libertine gaze. I. No saonerdid Mr. Everloigh note the bearing of this pol ished blsickguard toward the young. unprotected girl, than with all that kindness which marked his character, he resolved he would trot leave the omnibus without her; or, at any rats, that ha would retain his place until the presence of other passengers should prove her eafeguard from the fellow's boldness. Ile had ploviously told tire driver where he wished to ho set down, and accordingly the stage drew up at the given place. Jib saw the exult ing look of the young man, supposing_ himself about to be rid of his presence, and met at the same time the ap pealing look of a pair of soft blue eyes; which the young girl bent upon him, as half she seemed prerared to fol low Ilia movements. 1 ve tl l ehall ride further," said Mr. Everleigh to the dri "drive on, I will tell You when to stop." • 1 , he ,exquit.ite muttered a curse. while, as if divining tho motives of Mr. Everleigh, the young girl bestowed sur a sweet grateful look upon him as would have taken co live the heart of any young man—but "Joey 13-,—is tolgh, sit:'. the driver whipped up his horses; in wrath at the Qght sun, which drew the feet of his quondam pawn •ge ato thread ~the gaily bedizzened fingg,ings, and the sago rattled furiously the length of several squares. " 15 this--s treet?" timidly asked the young girl of 3 • Everleigh. lie reply seas cut short by her tormentor, w ith— It is, beautiful creature—allow me the happiness of h ridin g you to the sidewalk, and of seeing you safe It i nc ii , . I'4W" exclaimed Mr. Everleigh , leaning over and ' "lag bis good-sized Fist in the face of the officious i3 ' nnti r'l "Dare to rise front that seat, or intrude your I alt, further upon this young girl, and I will pitch you a or the horses' hoofs—do you hoar me," and with another flourish in the very teethpf the discomfitted Lo -11,111-i°, he nulled the check rein, and taking the hand of he trembling girl, saw her safely upon the flag-stones. "Thank you sir, thank you," said the foung girl, with a sweet smile; "this is my residence sir. I will not trou ble you further." Then with another smile and bow. sh e tripped up the steps of a small two-story house and rung the bell. f)I. 2? gallant bache'cr weted, Sat :a: hand, until ho Iry ~ ,A':[, ,. `lam H . , ' - . 1' E , „ _ _ .. .. . . . , . . .1 .i. . , . _ , i . E _ , _ ._ 08, •S . 1 , his fair charge safely within doom, and then turned to hail some down-town canine, for his benevolence had led him many squares iron:ibis original destination. Now. dear reader, do not think that Mr.' gierleigh bad put himself to all this trouble. merely because the object of his kindness was young and pretty. He would have done the. same foi any unprotected fumale, in like cir cumstances. no matter her ego or condition, whether she wore *`robe of velvet, or the homely garb of a wash brwoman. Turning, therefore. as I hive - said. to purstO his origi nal purpose, the boot of Mr. Everleigh came Suddenly in contact with a delicate cambric handkerchief. Lifting it Ffrom the pavement, a small steel purse dropped from it, ! Which he remembered to have, seen in the hand of his fair charge, and immediately ascended the stops, in or der to - restore the prize to its original owner, he rang the bell. While awaiting the answer to his summons, he me chanically turned over the handkerchief. It was of the finest linen cambrick, s.pparently quite old, for it .was much worn, and In siiieral plaees bore the marks of skillftil darning. It was certainly a pardonable curiosity in our bachelor to cast his eye upon the left hand corner of this dolicatcpiovotion. There was a name, although nearly effaced. Why mounts the blood so swiftly to his countenance—and why does an almost ghastly pallor as suddenly succeed? Why doss his hands tremble, and his limbs almost refuse their , offics? ~ It is bscouse, in those pale, time=worn ctiaracters, he traces the name' f Myra Grey—of Myra Greyi . his false profidious tress! 0, the thoughts which swept through his brain, like a rapid, rolling river! the years that'were lived over in that One brief moment! That name—how Caine it there! to whom belonged that fatal handkerchief . ..which thus, like Othello's had •'magic in the web of it!" "Did you ring the bell, sir?'! asked a little servant maid, who had stood for some moments holding open the door, yet until sho spoke wholly unnoticed by Mr. Everleigh in the duet absorption of his feelings. • Recovering himself by a violent effort, ho - bade the girl ask her Young mistress to come to tho door, and the next moment, from a back room, with a light step and a smile of pleasure, the young lady came tripping through t he hall. Mr. Everleigh bowed: ho could not trust him self to speak, and tendered the purse and handkerchief. "Oh! thank Yon, thank you!" she exclaimed. "1 hnd just missed them, and was fearful I had dropped them in the omnibus, and of course had little expectation of see ing them ngain. Indeed, I am very much obliged to you," she continued amtleesly, •'for I would not have lost the handl:N.(lde( for the world it is mamma's, and ono . I elm highly values as the [gift of a friend since dead.•, , Still Mr. 1 F puke not a word, and the young girl, now for ho first time noticing his ogitation and tho pallor of his countenance, snid: "You are not well, sir; do walk 'in, pray do!" And hardly knowing what he wsi doing, Mr. Everleigh fol loWed her through the hall and into n small parlor, where,' at a lade side table, eat a lady engaged in writing. She might have prtssed .her forte( th year, but she was still eminently hatu.kome, end as she rose to meet the salute of the stranger, her form and bearing were alike grace ful and dignified.' "Mamma," exclaimed the this.is th 45. n., carman Woo Wan Rion to the in me otnnions, and Pi ero too i. the purse and handkerchief which I so cir i elessly dropped." • • • "Aly daughter is under great obligations to you, sir." =7, said i tbe. lad) . bowing, yet evidently a little surprised - At the' intrusion. • . .)Ir..l:vetleighadvanced—those beautiful eyes %veto , M)on he saw before him the only Woman he had ever lot:ed; . he extended his hand. • "Myra-,—Nlyra, don't you know me?" That voice: It was now the+ lady's turn to be,agita tated. She started, and a marble.huo ortr:spriad her features. "Ah, heavens:" she said, "can it be Everleigh!"— And then, forgetting all, save their early love end the r long estrangement, Mr. Everleigh caught her to his bo som and imprinted a long and fervent kiss upon her pal lid c seek. " t is long, very long. since we met!" said Mr. Ever leigh at length, striving to regain some composure. "It is indeed, many, many long years." she replied. "Yes, more than twenty, Myra," Continued Mr. Ey erleigh in a saddened tone; and this is'.your daughter'?" he said, turning to her fair gill, who had been a surprised spectator of the scene. "MY only child and comfort!" answered Mrs. Nes mith, extending her arm to !her'daughter. "Emily, my love. this gentleman is one ef my earliest friends, and the brother of that beloved Emily Everleigh wliese name you bear." "hi it possible!" exclaimed Mr. Everleigh; s glow of pleasure mantling his countenance, "then let that dear anie secure my pardon." kissing as ho spoke the blush ing click of 'Emily. "And your husband?" ho said. turning once mom to Mrs. Nesmith. ••1 am a widow,'• she replied; "my husband died in the second year of our marriage." This announcement caused a very queer fooling about the heart of our bachelor—such in fact as had stirred his bosom in summer twilight's "king Syne." when strolling through the haunts of childhood with the lovely Myra Grey! The silence which enetted was somewhat em barrassing. and then the conversation touched upon tip. ice less dangerous, and in which the fair Emily joined. Indeed they were all very' rational, and, so rapidly passed the moments, that more than an hour lied stolen its flight. ero Mr. Everlaigh thought of the necessity of saying adieu. Somehow hit resentment against the-sex, and against the widow, in - particular, had vanished. Tho jilt .trick she had played him no longer affected him, He even forgot there e'ver existed a dashing lieutenant; with the "front of Jovo himself," and "atter) like Mari." True she was an unprotected widow, while from her eonver sation; and from what he saw, ho' couldplainly discover not in vary good eircutnstances, 'When we consider this fact. we 'must of course agree, thilt it would not have been manly to have indulged in any other than the most kindly feelings, toward one thus unfortunately situ ated. In short. when at lenth'4lr. Everielgh rose to depart. he carried the hand of the widow to his lips. promising he would soon call upon her again. It would be difficult to definethe feelings of etie enti ty bachelor.-as ho bent his steps homeward. Such was his abstraction. that although late. ho forgot to hail a re turn omnibus; ho forgot the buSiness upon which he had that morniug left hie dwelling; he forgot all about poor Walter's young bride, although he passed directly in frontof the store where those MHO beautiful plants. whose rossession he had so lately coveted for her sake. yet embalmed the air with 'boi l :: fragrance; he forgot everything—even to cry, firshal silly boy:" as Walter exhibited a beautiful little work-box which he had just purchased for his betrothod. Never had Walter known his uncle so somplaisint upon the theme of woman; and at length he ventured once more to requestthe presence of Ida neck at the wedding "Wool,, pooh. nonsense. boy. nonsense." was Mr. Eo erleigh's reply; "and yet, if your fair one did Initresem. Me the charming girl I saw Chid morning. thep, indeed. I might,perhaps consent to see you put on the fetters ef metrimeny.n SATURDA MORNING, APRIL 7,11849, "Ab. who was this young lady, uncleVl asked • Wsl• "She was the daughter of—psha—none of your busi ness. DOn't be asking about other pretty girls—a pretty husband you'll make, to be sure!" 'said Mr. Eveileigh. "Fill your glass, boy! Wets to the health of my Emily!" - The next evening saw Mr. Everleigh' again in the lit tle sitting-room of Mts. Nesmith. H• foOnd the widow alone, Emily having iccOmpanied •rt friend to the Art- Union Exhibition. A' more confidential and interest ing tete-a-tete new ensued, in the course of ivhich.Mrs. Nesmith informed him that her daughter wee on the eve of marriage with a fine young merchant. with whom she hoped 'Mr Everleigh would coon become acquainted. "She is very young to be sure—scarcely eighteen." added Mrs. Nesmith, "but it will be' n great 'relief to know that should any accident befal me, I shall not Inane my dear child unprotected." This was the moving theme, undoubtedly,"and im perceptibly the conversation reverted back to olden times, and to the brief season of their love.' • and hap piness. Past injuries, or supposed injuries were all ex plained, and the "wrong made right"—ail that had ap peared to the young lover, so heartless and inexcusible in the conduct of Myra (hey, made clear; how. I can not BIT but as it wph perfectly Satisfactory to the person most interested, it is useless for us to tronblelaricires about it. It was indeed a lamentable fact, which struck heavily upon the heart of Mr Everleigb, that through hie own rashness he had cheated himself out of a charming wife for a period, perhaps, of twe nt y years! Just think of it! No wonder he desired to repair the evil; and there fore he once more offered !ils hand and heart to the ac ceptance of the widow. I At this critical and interesting moment, they were in- terrupted by the en i tranco of Emily and her lover. "rnriel" ..Why—what—eh! Walter—Vialter!" "What does this mean,-my dear uncle?" exclaimed the surprised Walter. "Your uncle: 0 Waiter. is this gentletnati that dear kind uncle of whom you have so often spoken?" said MI i "And is this the sweet girl. that is to be your wife?" asked Mr Everleigh. , "Then Cod bless you both, my dear children!" he cried, folding their hands within his owe Then leading Walter to Mrs. Nesmeth, he said; "Myra, look at this boy; he is Olean(' of our dearest lost Emily. And now, Walter," ho continued, turning ; to his agitated nephew, "in the mother of your bride. behold that Myra Grey. the first and only love my heart hos ever known." ..f A happier circle than was gathered in that small par lor the,lionits of the city' did not enclose. Seeing with half an eye how matters woro liki;ly to end, Waltii'r 1 , fully revenged ' himself upon his uncle, nn suro of tole ration, detailed with great glee, the "estim to 1. woman kind." which his uncle l ad endeavoured to instil into his mind from' childhood. , "Yes, yos, boy." said Mr. Evorleigh.laughing, "take 1., your . raienge; I deserved'. Here I stand: the inveter ate enemy ,of woman, about to assu 3e the ties of wed ded life:" "Uncle. uncle," ttxclaimed Walter gravely "you had. • it h LI 11 g l ittw b g i r n fOr t nigi?o"u n in ritorAe ts WNW pnlitmr i i6 be pushed hither and there 'by"—r little • white- band smothered the rest of the sentence, while a hearty laugh burst from the discomforted bachelor, in Whichz the trio- merriy joined. Having thus brought our bachelor to that state ofsub jection to woman-kind in %I: I llicit (with all due deference to the fraternity) they tnuk i nn sooner or later arrive. I will non briefly state that More extensive alterations and imprhvements rapidly took 'place in the' bachelor's domi cile. Other apartments than 'those intended for Walter Lincoln's young: bride were prepared; and while the neighbors were puzzling themselves to'discover tho mean ing efauch strange proCeedings, an evening paper an nounced': "Married, this morning, at Grace Church by the Rev. —.Jonathan Everleigh, Esq.; of city, to Mrs. hltra Nesmeth; ainftat the same time and place, Walter Lioncolu, nephew to Jonathan Everleigh, Esq., to Miss Emily Netimeth."—Americari l Metropolitan Magazine. GERMAN SII.;;ER.—Few of our readers are probably aware how many, applications nro now-a-days made of this 'useful compdsition: Ike call it composition, al though the majority of tlic/ people imagine that it is a metal sue generic, but such is• not the fact. It is com posed of part of - nickel, one part of splenter of zinc, and three parts of copper; but all 'these substances hove to be pure, and be exposed to great heat before they mix among themselves. The zinc metal which is of a vola tile nature, is not put in the pot until the first two metals are well united together. The refractory nature of nick el, and_ the difficulty of obtaining the metal free fioni , arsenic, iron, and cobalt, aro;the causes that not unfre quently wo see German silver spoons of gold yellow color, while German silver prepared from pure metals? will be equal in whiteheas to sterling silver, and Will not tarnish. Tea and table spoons, kiiives and forks,,,pock et-combs, um:tient and surgical, instrumenti, firemen's and ship captain's , speaking trumpets , pocket-book clasps, tea sets, lamps and gun mouldings, are now mostly made with German silver. Upwards of 50,000 lbs. of this composition is manufactured in this country: annually. for which the nickel is imported from Germany and England. There, are but three localities_ of nickel ore in this country; an ore from Chatham in COnnectieut, yields about three per cent Mettle; another ore from the mine La Motto, in Missouri, yields about ten 'per cent nickle: and lately a nickle ore has been discovered among the copper ore on Lake Superior. German silver was first indroduced hito the United States by Dr.Feuch twanger, of IsiewYorlt who tvtut obliged to pay, on his arrival in this country the custom house duties on silver, the inspectors not knowing the diffe rence". Ho is the first manufacturer of the ,Goimen sil ver in the United States, and he is justly entitled to the paternity of this useful composition. , He received, in 1834. '35 and '36. silver medals from the American In stitute for the crude material, and for hie exhibition of over a hundred different useful articles.-.We regret much that he has ndt realized that remuneration which his perspective powers and ingenuity ought to hav e rowardt ed him, while ether men have realized fortunes, and continued to do so, from the information imparted to them by the knowledge of Dr. Feuchtwanger. In 1838, the Doctor petitioned Congress to grant him permission of issuing $40,000 worth of pennies made of his com position, as an experiment to substitute the German Oil- VPF for the copper currency; end Mr. John Quincy Adams in the House, and Mr. Renton in the Senate, spOke in the warmest terms of this preposition, and it met with the approbation from the President of the Uni ted States, Mr. Van Boren. and the members of both Ho we " He failed, nevertheless. in that also. on ac count of the unfav 'Table report frony t the Director of the United States klint..whosiated that tho right of coinage belonged to the United States Government, and that it required 'some skil to analyze the tierrnan ether.—.Hanno Aforcfnutt's Mewazina. , A Swzrt Youist.—A fellow' tumid Sawa eloped front Canneautville. Crawalrd County. one dOIY lot week, ta king hie wife's Sister with hint and feeifing the said wife sad about eitifle eftiella v LW* IS WARD ..E3 BALL AD or T I RE T1121110)11111T. We were crowded in die cabin. , Not a soul would dare to sleep,— • It was midnight on the craters, ' And a storm was on the deep. TILE KENTUCKIAN AND TILE MINIATURE Daniel Long was a tall specimen of humanity, as his name implies, hailing from Kentucky; he stood about six feet eight in his stockings, and was wanting in flesh, al. though he made up for it in 'stature. 1 - 16:11ad groat star ing eyes, of that p e culiar color which gone - rally apper tains to the feline tribe; a nose commonly called a 'pug:' a huge mauth, which, as the facetious 1):. Valentine ob serves, would go roue 1 his heal, if it was not for his ears; these ornamental tippet% logos wove concealed by a dense shock of hair, of the reddest hue iritagi noble. Ile was veil decently clad, and ono evening, while on his visit to one of our eastern cities, ho sauntered along -the principal streets of His attention was soon ar rested by the display of some miniatureti.in a window; attached was a card informing the passers-by that the 'mast was to 66 found at certain hours, accompanied with a polite Invitation to the public ingeneral to walk up 'to his studio and examine the "collection" on hand, to whicl there was "free admission.'! On hero accepted the invittition'forthwith, and made nis'w y up stairs, and opening a door, found himself in the presence of the pninter; he 'tide an awkward bow, which was responded to by courteous 'ealutatien from the other:- "1 sty, mi-tar," thus Dan opened the conversation. "did you paint all them picters in the Winder down that?" "Ye., sir." replivd Mr. Else!. "Wall." he continued. "they're darned nice Noting, auc) you air an almighty smart chap, I,swotv. flow long does it take ttfellOr to do 'em up slick, eh?" "It depend+ upon the style and the size." "Now look here, stranger, there's n gal what loves ma, an' 1 lovoltei, and wu bot . l on us love t'other; I'm a going to marry . hor..l am; what'll you have for paint in' her 'deter?" • -• 0•If you wialr 11 . low priced article, 1 can accommodate you at twenty-five dollars; but should you desire a moreH finished one, in lily bust style. I increaso nix prico_AsL - . darn your fifty," the Kentuckian interrupted; "I say, mister, you • may begin it right away." "Very well when will the lady lie ready fiir her first %Wag:" inquired Mr. Easel. • ' • • "Her what?" ejaculated Dan. "Her first sitting," rejoined the arti‘t; " when shall I first hatv the pleasure of seeing her?" "Socing her!" our hero repented, " seeing her! W11)'. stranger, she's way out west—sh'o won't be hero at all." "And how am I to make, a likeness, never having seen her, or known any thing of her?" asked the bowil dried painter. "Didn't you toll me, stranger, that You paint/d them pictors down that.. and if you painted :them, you kin point her; she's an all-fired purty - gal as ever I soo or you aeo, or any body else me; jist paint her as putty m you kin do." , •But my doer sir, are you not aware that there nro dif ferent styles of beauty? Here are two pictures" contia- , tied Mr. Easol, "of ditrsrent parsons, though both th e considered bosluties; the one a blonde, the other a bru. Ilene:, you perceive there is a renwkable'distitiction bac tween them." Daniel stAred at them. and, after a moment exclaim ad— "Wall, jist look roam! your shop, an' sea if I can't I , csro upsotnethitt' that's like her, anyhow." =And in siecordanco with' this original idea he ran• his i 1 eye over every one of the paintings with wh i ch the atu• die was adorned, bklt without seeing any thing which icould compare with his Dulcinsa. At last he turned Ito wards Mr. Easel with a sorrowful glance, and t wos about 1 to speak.when ho espied a pair of plaster easts„. and vault- I ing over towards the mantel-piece. on which they rested, 4,'ecelaiined— i,!* "By golly thar she is now! 'ceptin' she's all white." The cast was an Apollo! I , Mr. Easel looked at him in perfect - amazament. re volving in his mind whetherhis visitor was a fool. a mad man, or one playing off is! practical joke. He remem bered, too,' that it wo4 not the first of April. While he was thus undecided. Mr. Long began again. ”Now, Mr. Painteir, here's ten dollars to begin do you pai It her like that lore stater, only make her leek sounthitt' like flesh and bleed, and dresi tier up.sliek. If I didn't know she war alive this moment, I'd mow that is her ghost's "hut sir," responded. the Painter. looking at the note and finding it genuine, "that is a cast of the celebrated •Appollo, and---" - "Never mind." struck in D tu," "whether it's Polly or Nancy ; I say its like my gal, and jest yeti git to work and have , the pictur done igin I go hente." The painter then incau4lcl her !complexion. color of hair. eyes, 4:c., and promised to exert himself to the i , utmost of his power. Dm reft;lthe rtist was in a genuine quandary: but he resolved to try a all events, and suc ceeded in making a, very good looking picture. Our Kentucky friend camp in ovary day to see how his gal's face was "gittin' on " and to correct mistakes. At last the miniature was completed. paid fOr and Dan set off, homeward bound, and in a few days arrived safe and sound. Alas fdr the inconstancy of the fern:an - sex! Mr Long found that a Mr. Short had supplanted him in the atTentions of his lady-love i and male her Mrs. Short. , "Cheated—humbugged!" screamed Dan; "fifty dol lars for, your paintin' that ain't woith fifty coppers to me now! Oh! California is all that's left to me!"--And he took passage that very night.fmericott. Courirr. . How TO TSUI' eyrand had a confi dentieLservantricessively devoted to his Intervale. but withal superlantely inquisitive .-- Having one day in trusted him with' a letter. the prince watched his faithful vallet from the window of his apartment. and with some Surpries observed him reading tho letter. ,On the next . day a similar commission was confided to the serest% and to the sewed letter was added a posticript couched In this fallowins terrine; "You awl send ! a verbal gn awer by the bearer—he is perfectly acquatuted with the, whole affair. having taken the precaution to read this` previoua,totialalivery." Such a PO*CriPt Mist have been, TWO effective than the reVerest reproach''. IT SAX ta i /lUD 'Tis a rearftil thing In wirier To be scattered in the blast, Ii Audio Mar t h e rattling trumpet Thunder, ..43ut away the rump!' So we shuddered there In silence:. For the stoutest held his breallt. While the hungry pea isms roaring And the breaker/ talked with Death As thus we sat In darkness. ,Each one busy In his prayers,— "We ate testi' , the captain shouted, As he staggered down the stairs. But his little daughter whistered; As she took his Icy hand, •Isn't God upon the ocean, Just the stone as on the land!" And' we kissed the link maiden, And we spoke In betterchecr, And we anchored rate rn harbor. When the morn was shlntng clear A LESSON TO THE YOUNG. "If you bad been alood boy. and done u I wanted." you could be a great help to us novi." am the concluding words of a letter. dated at St. ClainOlo, Ohio., and taken from the pocket of a man named Caniday. at St. Louis. This man is under arrest for the unprovoked and brutal murder of another named lloffermati, in tho orgies of a drinking frolic. and undor such cirCuinstances 'ita to mark the murderer fur a just object of the extremist penalty o the law. "firm had been a good boy" says the latter. R. was from the father or mother of the unhappy criminal. It was written, not in an . elegant hand. nor upon - Igilt-edged, perfumed'paper, or in classed i laneage. Hard, reality struggled, with homely. honest affections, expressing sor row rather thou reproach. If those parental counsels had been heeded,— If this young man had been good to those who gave him life—been co iteut with his home—abstain ed from the allurement _strong drink, and the vortex of crime to which it leads—how much better and happier now. , Ho could now be "larva help" to his parents, re paying the OA F t of Mint gretitudo by smoothing their de clining steps to the tomb. Ho might bo a respectable member of sociPiy, fulfilling all its obligations' with hon or and advantage: li&tnight be the partake} of home, happiness end firesiclp delight in the centre of a Vt!loved family circle. But iOhai it he now! An inmate ol a jlaii! . A drunleard and a minim! ' Blood is upon his hands null upon his soul! The criminal box, the arraingmont, trial and condemnation for murder are before him, and the place of ignominious execution looms up awfully in the back: ground! What self-reproaches —Whet torments to which the gallows and the gripe of the hangman are merciful---will not wring his conscience through the intervening time.. _ If he could now go back of all these terrible consequen es of ill-dding, and back of the cause as well as the eft' et,—if ho Mould be again a boy at home—would IM not bo a "good boy" and pur sue the path I:ff fake! duty and_ of manly honor? How fa tal an error it was_ O have slighted the counsels of those parents at home—how certainly degradation and misery and ruin hove followed it his train.l It was INF6TIT - WISDOM, indeed, which commandt'd from amid ple thunder df Mt. Sinui,lto "Honor thy fath er and thy siother that the days may he long in the land which the Lord thy God givoth thee."—Enpiro. THE EMPTY CRADLE ' , The mother glee, in teats and idn, I The flower that she most did lave, Phe knew she'd find them all again. In the fields of light above." The death of a little child Is to the mother heart like dew on a Plant from which a bud has penis! ed, , The . plant lifts up his .head in freshened greenness to the morning light; so the mother's soul gathers 'front the dark sorrow through which she has passed, a fresh brightening of her heavenly hopes. At elle bends over the empty cradle • and in Lucy brings-her esvcet. iafapt before her, a ray of divine light is on the cherub face. It is her son still, but with rie seal otimmortality on hi, fair brow. Sly feels that hea ven was the only atmosphere where her precious flower canna oofista-without spot or blemish. andire ; would not recall the lost. - tun m .. u i.. ...^..e z - ...1.161.7 d*rul %W.:O 11 seems to bring her spiritual presence near her: She , in-1 dulges in that tender 1.4 -ief which soothes, -like an opiate in pain, all tho hard passages and cares of life. The world to her is no longer with human love Land hofie— ill the future, it;" glorious with heavenly love nut' jUy. Sho,its treasures of happiness which the. worldly, un chastened heart never conceived. The bright, frefill flowers with which she has decorated her room, l Me: apartment where her infant,died, are emblems of the far brighter hopes now dawning on her dap-dream. She .thinks of the glory and beauty of the New Jerusalem, where the little foot will Never fi nd a tl?rn: among the flowers to render a ehoo necessary. Nir will a pith:m ho wanting for'the dear bead reposing on thebreast of the kind Saviour. And she knows her infant is there, in that world of eternal bliss. She has marked one passage is that Book—to her emphatically the Word of Life now lying closed on the toilette table, which she daily reads, "Siaffe little children, and forbid them not, to come note me; for of such is the kingdom of heaven." 1 ENATOR HOUSTON A NI, nts Wurx.—The case of Sin atolHouston affords a striking example of the vastintlit encle which a good wife may exercise over any man, •*as is a man." Houston was. apparently, a very tuiproin ising subject for Ilia experiment. lie quarrelled with and ran away from his first wife, lived with the Indians. and was the "victim of his own slavish appetites." lie was then called the notorious ••Sum Houston." nut we have noticed, for some years, that ho has been spoken.of m tre respectfully The secret of it is, as we wereinformed some tnouths ago, , by-o.to who knew hint well,. that he had married a lovely and excellent woman, and she had refbrined hint, or induced hint to reform himself. We see that the matter has now got into the papsrs. , At a large party lately given at Washington by Speaker. Winthrop, Houston took this occasion to give his reasons for declim: ing to attend the various places of amusement to which ho was invited. "I make it a point," said the honorable Senator, "nev er to visit a place whore my. lady, if she wort` with me, would bo unwitting td go. I know it would give h l er pain, as a christian, to attend such places end I will not go myself wherel could -not :ake my wife." A member of Congress prsent alluded' to his Own wife, and added that there was a mutual understanding between him and her that they should each follow the bent of their own inclinations in such matter. "That may do for you," responded Mr. Houston, "but with me it is different from what it is with many My wife has bean the. making of me. She took me when l'Was the victim of slavish appetites—she has ro• deemed and regenerated me—and I will not rio that in her absence which I know would give her pain if she presenl."' •! • I • _ TOUCIII6 INCIDENT.—In giving an account of the loss of ',the steamboat Milwaukie. lately sunk by the ice on Illinois river, a few miles below Naples, the following touching lincident connected with the- sinking of this burls thus related: . When Captain Br;ckehan saw that she was going down rapidly, and that there was no way of preventing the disaster. his first endeavor was to save his son, a_ youth of some seven years old—buton - searching the cabin he c• uld not be found. There was a' moment off agony which or a parent can feel, when, after repeated cells 'and no answer, the father we compelled to save WS own life by plunging-into the icy stream. with the only hope of swimming to theshore; this.ho' did as did _akto five others; but ere he had 'gained an hundred yard. hir turned and gave One last call, as he supposed. to his Ohildthe boy. heard the cry—being with several other persousen an immense. cake of ice. floating dowfii the stream, and answered his parent's call. "Farewell. myabn." exclaimed the father. -"Good-bye. father." screamed the child. and both were't ertain that they bad paned forever; but it was not so to be. They did met t again in a limhonrtefterwerdi on shore safe and sound; with what feelings inky betted(' imagined than desCrib., ed. It is almost it miracle that all. both them who took , the witieetse4 ihoie ;.ho trusted to the ice, should have. el:eared dea'h.' CASE OF ELIZABETH Fruin Nicagy's fluaorlyqf - Among the persons concerned in was a man named James Burton. 'llion, he had been present when the nation was discussed by his .accon conspiracy was detected, a reward apprehension. He was saved from 1 matron if the Anabaptist persuasio Gaunt. This woman, ( With the pe pbraseolpgy which thewilistinghiah largo charity. Her life was passed happy of all religious denomination know a+ constant visitor af• the -jail theological opinions, as !well as here sition. led 'how to do everything in he She procured a boat which took him he got on board of a ship beiantifor moment of parting she ptlintoliis h ey which. fur her means, was very 1 living sokno time in exile,reittrned to i i month, fought - at Sedgem or, fled House of John Fornly, a barbe Failley was very poor. wash 1 He knew that a reward of a latuadr i oilttred by the governmop for tho app I' . ton. But rho honest, m n was inc ono whO, in extreme, : , ril bad corn , dow of his roof. Uph i ll. pily it was * that the &Ter of James was mono atm those who harbored 'Olds than again t f selves. He had publ cly declared I treason, the hiding of traitors from It most unpardonable. Burton knew himself up to the gov rnment; and I against Fernley and Flizabeth G brought The villain whose, ved had the heart and forehead to ap. witness against them. They were was sentenced to the gallows, and the stab:a. ' armor or tho dinonts Own ig was mitbou tnt wss burnt Cornish suir)l 'Even after all the I it itupo3siblo thn jud execution. But the k Irmged, Mi. ttoth Gt the same day On wide' sid.i. She left a peer ,written, in style, yet sues as was read by many I pass on and h mor. 'My fault," which a ptinco'iniglit well have for lieve a poor.family, a d lo! I mus complained of the in olence of tho ty of the jailor, and I the tyrann one, all to tv!iuse ple.sure sho and tints had been saerifie El. la as far , her. she forove thew but in that tl enemies of that good cause which flourish, she left thei 1 to the judge kin xi. To tho last ho preserved which reminded the.spestators of t whi l cii they hud read i i n Fox.. With. exhibitions which humair men gea , i . t) have Irid a strong at raction, ha: side, where he had s on Cornich h order to see Elizabeth Gaunt burn° 1.0.. d thot when,she c hilly disposed in such it manner as to shoiten her etauders brat into tears. It lwas while the foulest judicial murder even those times was perpetrating, such as had not boen known since t hid raged round the death-bed of 0 od Puritans reckoned up, not withou thou, the houses that had been bl ships which had bean cast away. any solution from thinking heaven was moby against the iniquity which" Since; that day no woman IMs suffer for any political alnico TILE MORNIONI Ina plragraph respecting thele r ash,. same days ago, the belief . was domestic polity was soma form of C titnation was,found in a British pap a large emigration of ,those people. zetta gyros a ditrorent account, and al From an extensive acquaintance, waned by residonee of some mouths in their neighbor odd. in Illinois, and front frequent visits to Neuvoo, wo infer that there is nothing Mitt ervommunisot of prope ty or interest among them. Each family lives separate. and each individual labors, and buys and solle,.and gets ain,aceording ,to his own pleasure or necessities. In i t is l respect, we be lieve, there is no difforenco.hotweethem and thetieiti sees generelly of civilized country s. Their blorid of i. union is w:uolly that of implicit ' fait in Joe Sinitklas a PrOphet, alni 111 the 'divinity of th Golden Bible. Or book of M unnon, and the various vagaries and pre ended revelations eJnsaquent .upon their high wrought reli gious enthusiasm. Thidijeligione enthusiasm i indeed tt remarkabable. It carried triumphantly t rough the most appaliug hardships—cord, hunger, rrakedness e sickness, pertc;ention,l loiilof (Winds, and evory earthly • ‘l` • 11 — calamity—to their resent` quiet re sting place in the - Rocky Mountains, which, like the F anban of old. is , to them. with their simple - end indus Hans habits, a 'land flowing withmilk and honey. Th it oxodous from the Mississippi to the Colorado, shoul its history evor int written, will be looked upon as o a of Ithe most re markable in any agi . , , and it is no at all improbable. from the rapidity of ti. air increase, oth in this country and 'in Eweland, that they will in few years, overrun f 0 the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains, between the Columbia river and the Colored . where we hope the government will protect them in t eir, rights—for, Pow over abet' •ti may be their religious' elief. they hate the min right to life, liberty, and the pnrethof happiniess as the rest of the inhabitants of our w r —spread country. BRAYS: Gent...--Wi.ile on the C.l•radO, I *as to d by "tri'ne host" of an !nzident il:ustra 're of the her i olsrn of Texan females, which occurred ne r this place not mane years ago. &party of one hundrc Indiani had killed two men working in a field, and pu a third to fiig t. In these circumstances, a young. worn n, scarcely s Wen years of age, undertook to protect or family. Putting on the captains uniir, with .0 coc e d hat, she, coura geously walked cut f her house an beckoned to the In dians.to corns on, at i the,snme time akingsigns to thous within the hotne (wit • 'in., wonie an d . children. and one old man) to supp es their a i cier and keep still! The Indiana supposing hat the bra•Oe captain's cornpa• ). ny were within, eager t charge. tho . ghtlithest to with- draw from so dange•ou;a post. and t ey accordingly fled! Certainly the Texan congress ahoul. have granted her a Captain's oanimission c rind pay for it. ' Rap. Daniel Bs, ker. • . .. - GOLD= THOIIGHTIL..4 neveryot ound pride In a no• ble nature. Jr humility in• en on strut Mind. Of al l • trees. I observe that God has chesen e vine—a low•plant that creel s upon its helpful wall; a all _beasts. the soft n i patient lamb; of all fowls. the mi • end guileleu dove. When God appeared to Moses. It w wit is the !VT coiar, nor the syretding palm. tut brush, an bumble.. slender. abject bush as If He would by these selections chock ih'o conceited arrogance of m 1. talking pride• eth love like butnilit; rothieg hat , . Gho , kr d . NU BRE 47 'GAUNT rfcs he Rye-ifouse plot Illy his own conies design's of =mei plies.. When the loff red for his eath by an ancient famed Elizabeth uliar manners and d her poet. had e lin relieving the un- and she was well . Her Political and • Inpassionate dispo h power for Burton. o Gravesend, where tnsterdam. At the nds a sum of mon • rge. Burton, atter ugland with Mon o London, took in in Whitschapal.-, staged by credifora. pounds bad LOOII . : eihelleioll of Bur apable of betraying l a beneath the she oon noised abroad ugly excited against .st the rebels them , at of all forms of vougance was the this. Ho delivered o gatiitformatiort (rant. They were IA they had preser r ear as the principal onvicted. Fernley El:z/beth Gaunt to var, many thought d b 3 carried in to pity. , Fernley was live at Tyburn on I red death at Cheap. • llocd, in, no gracefal hou.sands with corn. 'rho aaid,, , .was pile iiven. I did but ra dio for it." She , kidge,'of the feroci. of him, the great so many oilier vie as they had injurell ley i were implacable ould yet revive and • I nent of the King of a tranquil c6nrage, 1 ia hereic deaths of • in Penn, for whom erally avoid seemed toned from Clidap• , I .itgod, to Tyborie in - He afterwards re, the straw; about her !ti 'Tering*, all the by-- much noticed that hich had disgraced tempest burst forth, nt hurricane• which leer. The oppress= a gloomy satisfac ! wn..down. and the Ld derived some con bearing awful testi.:- afflicted the earth....'L. .KI death in England markable enthusi expressed that their mmunium. The in. , r, which ei nnouncsd The Pittsburgh Ga ye of the Mormon-
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