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
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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-