VOLUME 19,
POETRY AND MISCELLANY,
TDE STOILIUS AND STAR
Dr REV. J.tMEI UItDORNE. a. 1.. D.
Ihrial lithe voice, and loud the war
Of storms In that ungenial time.
Mien, leaving Southern lands afar.
'Meson wakes up our Northern clime
The long white surges of the deep
'ilieribreak on et ert wailing shore,
And foaming down each rocky steep.
The LW/WIWI' torrents rage and roar.
Like rapierddrivim with vengeful
On breast and brow• the cold winds beat,
,Ind the tierce hail, or troubled dust,
Sweeps the rough road and echolgag street;
The groaning nUOdi arc bleak and !pare,
The bid glimiliers yet 1111%(4.11,
Anil the wide flcl i nud plpititreit wear
t% (iconic ititt ofeartlil) green.
nut Cod, wlth all a father's love,
{Chou Earth 011111 roll of beauty lies,
lle% eats in blazing pomp ahuve, •
The mlnnler of Il se rail lent elsieg;
loe,k theti on N Ight'e'refulgent are
%Viten that rude hour tit...! gladnege tahre
Awl thou eltalt and in raging March;
The 1101/01 at onceof bonne and 4•lrg
Fur lo' the great Orion turr4,
De..rending in ttu• cloudless West,
And red .\return. now
Ileauuleg at et e, a •n 'red gae•tt
Far op in circles broad a•ul bright,
'l'h,• Beat and 1.100 1110% 0 and shine,
While `iron lifts his orb alight,
Ind hils our 11C.InS o ith 010111;11th do hue
evcr thus, w hen storms arise
And all I. dark and :0) leNs here,
errs hefure our longing eyes.
The glories of that tufty inhere;
%%lien sorely tried, we grid e alone,
nr ~ ink Iwneath Oppre,ion'.: rod,
Ile n bkper- from his starry throne,
"Low: rp, 0 M ..SD rat Wr• rr Got,"
TIIE POOll STUDENT,
111 VIE JoILI 10111' s 1 , . I)
-nip hide Jerry Hull!" So the old man was called
:r lOwn over. Ilow or why the whole region Ph.iuld
Maim to be his millers and nieces is more than I can
, 11. Dut n hen 1 come on the stage or childhood, tho
Maim bad been long established, 011,1 ho was Undo
Jerry, by what the law calls the right of possession. hit
le did the old loan caro who claimtd to be of his family,
To% idea be could make them all help him. Ile was a
:rgo, square-built roan, with a face Broad ond deoply
';mooed, and an evo lie had that tOdiletl brightly
..dienever the spirit that peeped out of itwas glad. hlo
t!rtats wore cloth that his own sheep had first grown,
ud it was always of the some muddy red, colored by his
en butternuts. lie lived in a low, red house on the
orner facing tho South, with his long row of barns on
.e street that ran North and South, so that the t ards
Id cattle wore diieetly tinder his , eye. 'Flier. , was the
dl at the corner of the house, with the long well-sweep
'pple, so common and so peculiar to New En l iiand in
'lra times. There was the horse shed and the great
sternut tree, under which stood the grindstone, at
.iien nit it“, nufgftr , v4flvtiat true invir grinning. r tiny
ruld have felt hurt and injured, had he rctuovod it, or
iestioncd their right to use and wear it ter fast as
,ry pleaed.
Uncle Jerry hail two strong sides, hnt to had one
eak one. lie did love--!money 1 Ho was a good man
• the main, u go-to-meeting, Sabbath keeping man, a
rafessor of religion, and all that, and few moll ever tried
irder to gall) two worlds than he. Ono Ito did obtain.
'ant do it he never gambled, or speculated. or ran risks:"
.only toiled nod saved,toiled and saved. Not_ol tg, to the
[neat of a husk, was ever lost a'nitit his premises. he
.resold straw except by•the bundle. His workman
implanted somewhat of their food, hilt they had-alwr9e
lenty of hard cider to drink—for, (rude Jerry had pr•iv.
'lit to demonstration, that if theY drank freely of eider.
•rt wanted !ram food, Once, however, they played - him
vary trick. Joe limn was Uncle Jerry's bay of-all
-ores—a gnarly, tough, tight-grained fellow—a perceet
beam—you,cpuld neither split or cut him. Where
name from, nobody knew. The old man used to
State" hint with a cartwhip, as he called it; and Joo
teuld sulk, and dog and snarl, but neither cry nor run—
hs had his own way of revenge, and amply did ho
ale n. I will give you a single specimen.' Uncle Jar
s had cow—old Siba—so ktoss that sho ;was said fe
Hk at her own shadow. By groat pains-taking oho
its fettered, and fatted well, and Uncle Jerry's cues
rly snapped whenever he dared to go ni.ar enough to
t her sides. Just as she was ready fur emu butcher,
els Jerry was met one night as he came home by Joe
taut. There was a wild eye in Joe, but a secret re
-ash smile under terror, as b l eat lighting will sometimes
ett out front behind they dark cloud. "Uncle Jerr !
V-10 Jerry, old Siba is sick—just gone!" Out to the
.ta bounded Uncle Jerry, and sure enough, there she
a, apparently an the agonies of death. The old man
n,e hut one look. "Joe," says he inn whi.per,
01 her instantly, before she dies. She'll do for the
tea:" Kill her Joe thd, with many an•inw.ard chuckle.
lie rogue had watched till he saw Uncle Jerry coining
a:a*, sod thou had made . tho coos , swallow a pint of
ted lard—enough to make her sick for half an hour?
!unit would all have passd away, Joe gave the wren
enough to prevent Oleic loosing their appetites, as
1.6 palwed away die “sick beef." There was no Luis
:'(ea which Joe was not au adept. Ilad there been a
:tlrgo for the study of roguery, Joe \Stink' haie receiv
k:qas highest honors,
tacle Jerry would be rich—even though ho pierced
coweience through with many sorrows, 110 lived in
u obscure, back town, and in the furthest nook of the
+r a, far up among the wild, ro4y hills and the low
sveatsins covered with wood. Tito valleys between
'lrblls were small, springy and cold.' He owned NO
t:ashundred acres of this rough and ragged land. Al
4ough there was no place nt which ho could buy are sell
;eater than sic or eight miles, yet Undo Jerry defied all
frowns of nature, and as people supposed—grow
'O. Secretly and :stealthily did the neighbors creep to
;la red house and leave their notes for a few dollars to
outthe year,Butas
to eke ho would never lend
!roue y nnless tlie borrower would take a few sheep on
fares, it u:Mil on known that almost every_ body were
wing sheep on shares—lust to try it:" Then ho used
sell—runt! Net by the, gallon or glass, but simply
the pint and quart. Ho was tho centre for .six miles
round iu thu i respect, and truly there were two decided
in this: first it was said that his liquors
:ere jun in that stole, you might "drink quest
~ n d nut f eel and secondly , the people used to whisper
4 al by some unaccountable process, the bottom of his
1 111 pint and quart measures, were roundotl pp, as if bat
't'ed ou the top of a canon ball, so thqt a pint or quart
l'"med "a dreadful little." However, that might be,
rot taeighbi r in the region could kill a pigt hat would
I,''''eigh eight score," without being nerved tipby "some
.
:u sr •
.04 , horn Unele Jerry's."
451111,0 1i.i. who kept a largo dagbingoutrusting store
4fte miles oft were great friends to Uncle 4crry. There
:r Went to till his barrel, .'to hear the news," to "hear
5. great folks talk," to learn the gossip for ton wiles
and be treated with peculiar intently'. He
- .
•
THE
"
SE.,.
•
'V E R
•
•
a or =Anon.
might fill his glass, or his tobacco box just as if at home—
that he might! As many its six or eight times a year he
went to see the'Wilsons, and as often they wore glad to
see him. To be sure they used to ask him to put his
name on a little piece of paper with theirs, "just for
form's sake"—nothing more. How heartly the old man
need to laugh at their extravogance!—for they always
gave him a hard dollar just logo through that form!—
There was a bank some fifteen miles'off, and the Wil
sons were men of business. Into the• large, leathern
purse dropped the dollar; and it seemed to chuckle as it
went in—for money that went into that purse, like that
which goes into China—never conies out again. It was
a great mystery to Uncle Jerry how people need be poor.
He could see no necessity for it. Why need they lose
their property; he never lost, hie—not a dollar in all his
Ilfo. Take care, Uncle Jerry! Thy sails are full, and
thy :seas arc smooth now. But take care, breakers are
called so, because the) break the waves and the chips
too: Take care!
Cynthia was Uncle Jerry's only daughter—and if not
hissmlyidol, certainly a favorite one. Many an idolater
has worshipped a more unlovely idol than Cynthia- 7 4f
she was beautiful. Small in stature, untamed by any
maternal control—for her mother died when she was a
mere infant:—she was as wild as the squirrels that played
in her father's butternut grove, and as merry as the lark
that shouted over his green meadows. The best scholar
in the new, rod school house, the lid of hor teachers,
t`te envied of her mates and companion in study. She
grow up'into seventeen, before time had laid a wrinkle
on her face, or care had lift a mark from his pencil, or
she had—as far as known s —roceived a single scratch
from the arrow, that comes from the quiver of Venus's
son. Her father never crossed her, and he was careful
to show to her as few weaknesses us possible: He some•
times thoughe'she would be always a little girl at home
with him, and then he would dream of hor marrying a
rich man and hying in a large brick house, in the great
city
Whether any thoughts on this subject ever en
tered Cynthia's head, is more than we know. She ap-
peared to pass on "in maiden meditation, fancy troy,"
and we arc bound to believe the best.
Even before the pretty Cynthia had reached this age,.
there were few youths in ihe region who did not know
that shii was fair, and her father rich. Awkwardly did,
they apkoach her, but all received, the cold side of her.
face—unless we except John
two
orphan boy, who
lived with an aunt a mile or two off. John and Cynthia
were school mates when they were children, and though
John knew that oho was dressed tidily and neatly, yet,
es they stood at the , kends of their respective classes, on
opposite sides of the school house, she never seemed to
know that John wore coarse linse: Woolsey. John was
a strong limbed, awkward fellow, and many a ride did
he give Cyutha on his sled across the ice of that big pond, ,
in going and coming from school. John was anything
but handsome. Indeed, to do him justice, ho was a home
y fellow. His body seemed long and his legs short.—
II is hands were dangling about as if not knowing what
to do with themselves, His face was a granite face, and
his head louked as if it had worn out to or three bodies.
But John bad a way of his own, and he and
,his poor
aunt used to houtinuo to battle fortune and keep want at
a little distance, though ha would there stand and eye
them sharply.. By merest accident, as was supposed
butternut grove one afternoon. Ile had some chat, and
then the conversation grow more sober, till . the young
urin let her so far into his confidence as to tell her his
pl fns—to talk about "ping, to college," and to ask her
adv;ce on certain points. Whether the advice which
she felt called upon to give, wont against her conscience,
or whether it was tho responsibility of being called mien
to advise a young man,—l never know—but it is certain
that she went home more thoughtful aid sedate that af.
ternoon than ever before, and John went to put his plans
into execution. It was soon reported that John was go
ing to college, nod then peruile shook their heads with ,
in
credulity, and blamed the ambition of the aunt, and pi
tied the toilful the boy. Uncle Jerry declared it sheer
madness to take a boy who was good to, work, and spoil
hiin by making him into a student! Cynthia merely
asked if a young man who did ono thing well, would
nut another, when her father wondered whore she got
suck a notion into her hood, and told her she knew
nothing about it. i
But through "rough and tumble," John was on Ws
way to college, a-foot, with his books under one arm and
clothes under the other. And then he was in college—
no body knew bow ho got there, or how he was supported
there. He never told his sacrifices amid pinching% keep
ing school by day and studying by night, his enconomi
sings and his doings without; how twice every year there
CalllO a letter containing a small but valuable amount of
money. It was directed in a neat, studied, and evident
ly ;I'5U med hand, and never dropped twice into the same
post office. Ile never knew the unseen friend and had'
no right to guess, why concealment was designed. Ile
came out of college with a reputation and character
which was capital at mice. Whether the goilaunty did I
not feel somewhat proud of her' John as ho went with
her to church the next Sabbath—her boy actually through
college—and whether the smile of Cynthia,' as they met I
at the dear of the church by the tnerest accident, wes
not a little trignphant, I will not Undertake to say. But
Uncle Jerry tithed upon him as a lost boy.. Ho wanted
ban*. .nd not beads,—matter, and not mind. Every '
body s a d that he went through college just because he
would a; but they saw no US3 in havinl folks a) wilful
and determined. What's the use in putting the foot down
so hard! •
In a fete days John made it convenient to drop M at
Uncle Jorry's; and though I don't pretend to understand
it, at a time of day when he must have thought most
likely that Unclo Jerry would be out. And when he
came home, ho found him there, and saw that John•and
Cynthia seemed contented and happy. Uncle Jerry felt
rather sour. He supposed that a college was a good
place enough, but it always scorned a pity to him to spoil
a boy who was good to work, by 'sending him where ho
could do nothing but study. He, was so cold and crab
bed, though he tried bard Mho civil, that John forgot
his errand to him, if he had any, and soon loft. After ho
was gone,-Une)e Jerry sat and looked in the fire. Cyn
thia OA-omitted : hot knitting work. Harder and harder did
Uncle Jerry gaze into the fire. He put one hand on
each knee, and opened the patois of his hands as if to
warni them. .At length he said; without looking °Witte fire.
.W hat, in hater, is John Doon going to do fora living
now? I'd like to know that!" -
"Ile is going to study thetlogy. I helium" said Cyn
thia, and fastCr flow hor knitting needles.
"Theology! to bo a minister, suppose) Why, he'll
atom to doath!"
••Perhaps .not. They call him a promising young
- i
man."
•Tromising!. Eh; Well, we shot! see. For my part I
think it a mighty easy way whorl poople get too lazy to:
work, to put themselves upon other people, and make
them support thorn! Why can't he go to work 04 ,tlio
farm, and earn something?"
"fiowilluch eoilid hp earn on a term, do jou sup
pose?"
"Why, a hiinclred, ore hundred and twenty dollars:"
Yes, but ho is to Imp 44 hundred dellsol this year the
totiehing.'s
"The douep Ile fel sow, rt don't bat/TO that; Who
told you?"
"too himself.," '
SATURDAY MORNING, APRIL 14, 1849.
"Indeed! And how comes John Doon—poor as pov
erty—to come to you with his accrete. I'll toll you what.
I don't like that fellow. and the sooner he knows it the
bet er. That's all. So depend upon it. he shall knots'
it. That's all."
ut of the house Uncle Jerry flung himself in full
t i
wr tit against poor John for two crimes. first for being
poo . and second. for having made Cynthia his friend.
W en the human heart wants the devil to aid him, the
dev I ulways gets wind of itnud is ready. Joe Hunt was
in fight. Now Joe hated the student mortally, first. for
the ama reasons that Uncle Jerry hated him. and se
cond, because, on a certain occasion, when Joe had made
It '
too reo with Mr. Howell's hen roost, John had met him
in_ he hands of the constable. and had delivered him
fro' the grip of the law. at the expense of half his purse.
Jo could never forgive him the kindness.
• Joe, what have you been doing,all the afternoon?"
• Getting the, grain and corn for Mr. Howell—six bush
els of coach. Ho said you told him to come and not it."
• Yes: but you can't measure grain. Why did'nt you
wa t till I came come?"
• Cause Mr. Howell wanted to gvight off to the mill.
I n ensured it just as you do." .
' • How's that?"
• Put it in lightly with the Olive], and was careful not
tohit and jar the half bushel measure. I did'nt heap it
uplas you do when . you send to mill yourself."
"Well, I wondorwhen Pmfo get my pay for this grain.
an. for the cider. Did Mr. Howell say anything about
• t
'No. But I hoard him say the other day, if John
D. on would pay his note, he could pay you up."
'John Doon's note! What does John Doon ow• him
fo and how much?"
1 "1,IVIty, whoa his aunt was lick last summer, Mr.
Howell took care of her, and all that, and John had no
money—the poor coot-4nd so ho gave hint his note for
thirty dollars."
"I understand. 1 would take that note for pay, just to
oblige Mr. - Howell, if he would give it up. Do'you think
he'd bo
"It's easy to make him willing."
Uncle Jerry's eye twinkled, and Joe's eye snapped;
they knew that they mutually understood each other.
The night following was dark; but not so dark, but
that Mr. Howell's old mare, Kate, found her way into
Uncle Jerry's six acre oat field. Sits wait a peaceable
old jade usually, but that night it seemed as if the spirit
of mischief wok-have rode or driven her. Over and
over the field she went, crosswise and lengthwise and in
all directions. It would seem that she Must have trav
eled hard and fast to do so much mischief. With n long
face did poor Howell go, the next morning, to Uncle
Jerry, and tell hint of the doings of Kate, and make his
apologies. With hasty strides did Uncle Jerry go to his
field and behold the injury it had received. - With a low
chuckle did Joe Hunt see them go. Uncle Jerry was
too warm to have his anger put in print. lie stamped,
and raved, and threatened; till he had completely sub ,
clued old Kate's owner. And he came away with thirty
dollars damages, and with poor John Doon's note made
over to him, instead of the money. Thou ho felt better,
A great noise it made among the neighbors—the ruin of
the oat field, and the damages caused thereby. The
thiMeßrnat fftnorirtnt tr - arre - timntriTia - ahh;
transfer of the note. John heard it all verycooly, asked
some questions about the fences, the habits of Kate, and
the like, and wont home with Mr. Howell. Nobody
c Md guess why. In the Ineautime, Uncle Jerry had
c lied on the little dapper, lnwor that always sat in his
o ice liko a small spider, with his eye wide open, and
li o 'the spider, &ught none but very small .game.—
'1 he note against Joltri,was to be sued at once. The
1 wer was glad and prompt.
All the aftornoon had John Won boon examining tho
o t field Wane. Just - at night Mr. Howell came to him.
"Mr. Howell, is old Kate easy to bo caught, by a
stranger?"
"No. Unless a stranger knew her pretty well, he
could not catch her. But I havo no difficulty." •
'"Do you hve'to carry a dish of oats iu order to catch
her?"
"Sometimes I do, but not often."
"Have you carried oats lately?" .
"No. But my wife caught her with an oar of corn,'
last week*"
"Are you sure that it was not oats that she used?"
"Yes, we have not had an wit in, the house for a
• '
year."
"Well, Mr. Howell, you have been imposed Upon
and injured. That horse of yours never did that mischief
without aid."
"1 thought the Evil Ono mast have helped her."
"An evil minded one. to be sure. I find the field
pine through vary nearly,straight, as when men plough,
and the horse went quite through it, and then' butted
round and wont almost straight back again; and then I
find that in somo places she trotted; and hero and there
pulled up a mouthful of oats and ate them as tiho won t
along, and she kept agoiug. Now a horse does not do so
of its own accord. Then I found a few oats scattered in
her Pasture, which she must havo spilled while being
bridled; and thou I found this little strap, which may be
a throat-latch to a new bridle , and lastly, I ro und the
tracks of a man just by the brook whore she Wcaught.
She was ridden through the field by somebodyOf that
I feel certain!" _ -
"Well. well; who would havo thought of it? Does
going to collogo make ovary body so cuto?. It's just as
plain as day. But who do you think did' it? I can' t
think my neighbors would."
"Whose throat-latch do you think this to be?"
"Why it looks as if it belonged to Cynthia Hull's now
bridle."
"And those square-toed tracks look to me as if they
belcinged to Joe flunt, your friend of tho hen -roost mein.
orv."
"Did you oyor! Now that's just it! I could swear it
was Joe."'
'_'No you could not. But you could swear it looks so
like him, that yon believe it was Joe."
well—but what's that white stains' your hand?"
"Plaster of Paris."
"What aro you going to do "With it?"
"You shall see. Just call your hired man, whom I
see yonder, that he May see What I do."
The hired man ca Me; and greet was their wonder to
see Doon make a cast of two foot-prints by the brook, so
PerfOilt that tho very nail-heads were every one to bo
seen.
"Now if that don't beat alit What good will those do
yotti" •
!Why, Mr. Howell. if we can find 4 bridlo which this
throat-latch will fit, apd a pair of alines that answer to
these cams, we shall come near tho rogue. shan't we?"
"Well, who'd have thought of it? Why you are as
"cute as a lawyer, and 1 thought you was to make only
a minister."
"A, minister wants comon sense, and the power of
reasoning, don't he? But say not a word about hall this
till I see you again. Let your hired man keep these
casts safe till. we want Own. Don't show Amp, nor
break them. Good night."
About a week after Mt s. awofficer called ott John *on
with a Writ for his POW. His icliniCtirolre,r• obtain
the molts)? or the body. In irain,he begot! the otiloer to
Spew him time to consult his Mends. to tai. here rtit,
c~o.orwsaa;~
Bented that being Mon to jail would injure him as a
teacher in the town where he.espected te be loc'ated in a
few weeks, if not daft. lii vain the poor old aunt wept,
and on," as if John were about to be hung. "and
all.'► she said, "out of kindness to her." The officer was a
kinf-hearted main and told John that. on his own respon
sibility, though at an increased expenot. ho would "give
hlmn•a day to turn himself in." Thankfully John accept.
ed it.
Is' few hCours. he, and Mrs. Howell, and the hired
mat were seen coming up to Uncle,Jorry's galr i . At the
gat.- Stood Cynthia's pony. saddled nud ready tor. her to
rido. l Uncle Jerry saw them; and. having an instinctive
feelin g that their visit had something to do with John's
being sued, he came out to meet them.
"Hr. Hull," slid Doon, "1 was sued last night, at Jour
direction. I understand.".
"Verly likely. I was in !topes you was in jail before
This to.
- .
"thank 'yon for yotir good wishes. But you took my
note from Mr. Howell for damages which his horse did
to your oat-field. Had it not Won for'that you would not
hays had, the note, and would of have sued me."
' Jotry nodded assent.
now, sUppose I can prove that you yourself
did all that mischief to the on would you then have
sucdthe note?"
-"Does the fellow mbar to insult me?"
".Dy no moans. 'Bill won't you please, call Joe Hunt
here?"
Joe came, dogged, end !poking askance, as if he felt
that something was in tho wind. As he came up, Doon
spid to Uncle Jerry, "how comes it that Miss Cythia'a
new, white bridle, has an old, flick throni-liteli?"
LT:icle Jerry looked, and so it was. Ho frowned nt
Joe, sod Joe declared it was lost—ho know not when nor
where.
"I know When ane,where. Now Joe. when S•on
caught the old more. that night you rode her so many
hours idtho what did you do with tho oat-dish
with which you caught her?"
"I didn't have no oat-dish."
knowy3u didn't. Joe, hwe any dish; and ea you took
your cap, and in eatitik the oats. old Katelore out a pieco
of the lining. Hero it is: lot us coo how it fits.'!
Joe looked this way and that way, and began to run.
But the hired man triP i pTd his heels. and then took his
cap and shoes oft The piece of lining told its story on
being placed in the c l ip, and the shoes and thy, casts
seemed to laugh 'at t .ir relationship. Doors then reca
pitulated the evident.. which he had, that Joe had done
the mischief. I •
Uncle Jerry's chin fell. lie stood amazed. Atlength
ho said. solemnly, “lohn Ddon, do you believe that I
know of this?"
"No sir, I'do not
upon, first by your
Hunt, who is not far
Just thou the taco
ation
"Mr. Clark.-you
It was a mistake."
''•l OM glad of , it. r
but you."
"Me! well, wh i st orino? I should like to know what
tiltVlVlktlrerrarisrinirtif.lF . "" -"7"
"Mr. Hull, the Wilsons have failod—broke all r to
piCces."
"I heard so this morning. Poor fellows, they were too
venturesome." , _
1
4 .1 em sorry to say, that ion are holden, [ for the notes
yell—"
"I never sig,ttell any notes. I only.l just for the finm,
put my Immo ion 4 bit of paper now en d then." '
".And those bas of paper , sore note_ to the prink. and
i i
you are held ler thirty thousand dollar ;" 1
Uncle Jerry trembled, and staggered, and partly fell,
and partly sat down on the ground. He said not a word ;
more. And while the officer proceeded to attach all his
goods, lands, cattle. even to the pony of hiti daughter,
Doors, was trying to comfort and sustain him: They
helped the old man into the house. and laid him on the
bed. John told Cynthia the whole attiry frankly; but she
was young, and did not know what it was ,to want or to
earn money. She oUly lilt for her father. And truly the
blow did almost kill him. John Doors stayed by his bed
aid's. southod him, and helped to comfort him. Most
faithfUlly did he tell the old Inert that he thought that cov-•
aloneness had, been his [besetting sin, end that the demon
of avarice had hardened his heart, and made him forget
the object for which he was created, made him forget his
religious professions, and his solemn vows to heaven.
And gently did the Spirit of the Lord deepen these ini
pressions, and open his eyes. He. put his business in
John's hands, and by was enabled to contpromiso with
the creditors of Wilson, so as tol save about half of the.
property. Ho gave himself up to tho work, and in a
your, presented all the receipts rind accotint4 and a bal-:
atice shoet, showing just how matters stood. -The old
Mall said that John was ason, and what 'he should do
without him, ho could not tell. Cynthia blushed, and
hinted that she thought it might be arranged so as not to
do without him. - II ,
..Well, child, if von can ar r raiiio it so; I•m sure it will
suit me."
Cynthia sold he would "soo sdhust it."
FALIAN ROTALTY.—The Paris correspondent of the
Boston .1 1 / a s gives the following informdtion respecting
the ex-royal family. "I was ushered into a drawing
room on the ground floor, (says the writer) wherein was
seated the Queen and the Ouellette do Nemours. Her
Majesty-was occupied in writing, while the fair yotmg
Duchess was engazod upon, some kind of noedle-were,
which, from its bulk and homely appearance, certainly
did not present many of the peculiarities of a lady's fan.
c y work. lip and down upon the gravel path before the
long windows of the apartment, strolled or rather shuf
fled an aged man, bending his shouldebt to the sun, and
leaning upon a 'lng l e knotted stick: He was folloWed by
a large white spaniel, which seemed to subdue his peace
to that of his maston and altogether the scene presented
was one of the most forlorn and melancholy description.
I cannot tell how I was shocked when ibis flied man en
tered through a glass door. shivering and compleining of
the cold—and I recognized the features of King Louis
Phillippe. his face was much bloated, and he is older by
ten years than when I saw him in January last. Ho
knew me, however, on thet Inatcint, endeavored to joinin l
conversation, but soon sank into thefts:buil by the fire.
and seemed presently to Ito absorbed in deep thought.—
The Queen was cheerful enough—almost gay. Her
excessive devotion has created a degree of fatalism in
her mind like that of the Orientals. She beholds every
'hint that has happened as the will of God. and cam
plains not. II is believed that she even regard!' It as an'
expiation. and accepts it In a chastened spirit according
ly, I will net tell you the general im+seion that prevails
in the royal household with regard to the King. but ii is
such es to make one regret that he met not his dead' on
the threshold of Tuelleries, so that hie body might not
thus have eutlive‘l his soul."
•
UTA gentleman reclining Opp' n a sofa oriel summer
day. called his waiter to bring UM his handkerchief....
The order wee instantly obeyed. " Hold it fn my nole."
ir
iassaather demand. The servant did se. After hold.
tag it them a minute or two. the sprawling gentleman
sprang to the floor and lent him headlong. at the same
, time remarkhti•gerlran great ,what'eal. you know ,what' l
vittantsd;wiirdida i t Ten'ttlewt"
I believe you have* been imposed
wn prejudices, and then by Joe
ruin State's Prison, us I fear."
canto ttp in great haste and !rapid-
ay to that suit against John Doon
But, Mr. f1u11, , 1 am not after hint.
Tun grin:lama Wain
The maiden sat by her cottage door - -
Through the long morning hours;
, A tiny stream by her flowed on
Through a bed of wild-wOod flowers;
Beneath the shade of an old oak tree.
*here the mocking birds sang niftily.
And now, and then, with aqenniie
Anti:licked the whirl of th spinning wh •
The maiden sits by her Celine door.
And Ilse noon-tide hour is past;
But a weary shadow her face steals oper,
As the twilight deepens fast;
A silent reverie clouds her brow,
Her Minds Ile clasped and idle now,
Tlwibirds have gone to their rest, and sal
•
ls thc,busy hunt of of the spinning wheel
3
-- • ' The:maiden s its by the cottage door,
lint the clam( front her brow is gone:
With a rosy cheek and a brightculngeye
Nb longer she site alone. • -
The stars swile dcin n thro' the old oak .
• On the *rusting heart and the lover.; vow
To•ritoiiow—to-morrow! she will not fee
11cr weary task lathe *pinning, Wheel.
THE RUSSIAN PEASANTRY.I
The houses of the lower classes in•linnsia. n
ral extremely warm and sub.itantialt they ara
moat part. of unsqunred lois of deal, laid one
Cher, and firmly secured at the corners where
the timbers cross, and aro hollowed, out so as
and hold one another; they are also fastened
wooden pins and uprights in the i interior.
corners i are supported upon large stones or ro
so that there is a current of .air under the st.
servo the timber from damp; in the winter. e
up all around to exclude the cold; the intersti T
th logs are stared with moss and clay, so tliat uo ra
ea,' enter. Tho windows are very small, and aro fry
!ently cut out of the wooden wall after it is finished. I
. centre of the hoMie is a stove, called speech. (pechka
' ich heats-the cottage to an tamest unbearable degre
warmth, howerer, which a Russian peasant loves t
[joy within doors is proportioned to the cold which
required to support without;' his bed is The top of hi
ech, and when h enters his house in the winter, pie
1
, d with cold, the t rows oil' his sheep 7 skin oast, stretch
1 I •
himself 'ou his .stove. and is throughly syttrinvd•in
minutes.
The richres of the Russian gentleman lie in thp lab;
his serfs, which is his study to turn to good accoun t
dhe is the more urged to this, since the briar whi
e.mpels the peasant to work for him. requires hint
aintain the peasant; if the latter is found begging, tl
f rmer is liable to a fine, lie is therefore a mast ,
who Mail always keep a certain number of worktne
whether they are useful to hint or not; us every" ki
of agrieultwo and out-door employment is to stand st ,
during ho winter he naturally turns to the estublishine'
•
of a utauufactory as the means of employing his peasan
rind a source of profit to himself,
In somo cases the tnuntifactory is at work only anti' g
the winter; tho summer is devoted to agricultur , ;
though, beyond what is necessary for home consumptio .
it is but en unprofitable trade in most parts lithe empire.
from the badness of the roads. the paucity and di_ tan ••
"""”"'".-- - --5..u.-.;,saseouent. difilf4tv in.aelli Z
produce. I
The alternate enployinent of the same man in t •
field and in the factory, which would be attempted it
rit
most countries with little success, is here re dered prs -
licable and easy by tho versatile genius !of he Russian
peasant, one of whooe loading national Oliaracteristics is
a general capacity oft turning his hand to nyi -kind 'of
t,
work which he might be required to undetta e. 'Ho w'll
plough tarday. weave to-morrow. help to build a hen a
the third 'day. and 'the fourth. if his master needs an e -
tra coachnian, lie will mount the box and drive fo tr
horses abreast, as though it was his daily ( aceupatio .
It is probable that none of these operations, except, pit -
haps, the last,'will be as well performed as in a couut :
where the division of labor 'is more thoroughly undo -
stood. They will all however, be sufficiently well do e
to tern, (a fovorite phrase in Russia.) The people a o
a very ingenious race, but perioverance h is wanting; a d
though they will carry many arts to a high degree of
excellence, they will generally stop short of the point Of
perfection. .gad it will he long before their manlike+
re n t cau rival the finish and durability of English goods.
L
- I
1
II-
Lsertosi.—The awful disease of leprosy still axis
Africa. Whether it be the same leprosy es that
tioned in thu Bible, I tl4 not know. btlt it is rogarde
perfectly incurable, and so infections that no one dar
come near tho leper. In the South of Africa there s a
large lizar-house for lepers, It is an immense space. ei -
,
closed by a very high wall and euntnining fields w ti h
tho lepers chltivate. . There is only' one entrance, wti h
is strictly guarded. When any one is found with tt a
marks of leprosy, upon bud, he hi brought to this gate old
obliged to enter, never to return. No one who cote sby
that awful gate is over allowed to come out agai t:
Within this abodo of misery there are multitudes o le
pers in (Insteps of the disease. Dr. lielbeck, a miss mi
ssy of the Church of England, froM the top of a no 0-
Louring hill saw thOtit at work. Ile noticed two partied
lady, sowing poliS in the field. The one had no hanthi,
the other- had no feet—these nit mbers being wasted
away by the disease.' The one who wanted the hat+
was carr Mg the mime who had no feet, upon his back,
and ho, again, carried in his hands the bag of seeds 'mid
dropped a pea every now and then, which the otherpreas
i
ed into the. ground with his foot, and so they manag d
the work of ono man between the two. Alt! bow lil t e
do wo know of the Misery Oaths in this world. Such a
a i
this prison house of disease. But you will ask who car s
for the souls of the helpless inmates; VIM will ventu a
to enter again: Who Will forsake f her and teethe ,
houses and tend,' to carry the message of a Saviour o
these poor lepers.. Two , Moravian sur4donaries, impelled
by a divine love for souls, have chosen this lazthouse
as their field of labor. They entered it never to c me cl[tit
again, And. I stn told, that as soon as they die. other
Moraiians are quite ready to fill their I place. Alt! my
dear friends, may we not blush and be ashamed before
- God. - that we, redeemed with tho'sorne blood, and taught
by the saute spirit, should yet ba so unlike 'these men in
vehement, heart-consuming love l of Jesus 010 isz,v:o'.'i
of men. '
TAKINa a CUULLT.-A Gentleman residing in a elfin e
not many miles from Exeter, in this State, E finding th t
the diMinution of his wood pile continued after his fir s
were out. lay awake oneinight in order to obtain if pass:-
ble, some clue to the mystery. At an hour When "all
honest calks shiiidd be in bed," hearing an operator t t
work in the; yard; he cautiously raised his chamber
window. and i saw a lazy brother endeavoring to get a
large log on his wheelbarrow.
"You're aletty fellow." said the wnsr. "to co l e
hero and eteal my wood while I sleep. '
"Yea." rephe4 the r "and I suppose you would
stay up there nnd see no break. my back with, Mimi.
beforelyeted ofibr tooornstiewn. and help rite,"--4 .0 4 -
. _,l
land Atesseager. .
IrrA. weldor* :PAM havbei seateueed s (elm, is
hanged, added tha mesa axpression of "WY' uorlo
tare moray Plli year mum , “Ames." says the rser.
"Amp. judge: tued may the Lord eteroeoY Como or menlj
your old out tor-twvor kw r sg r had). 4 " 4 7 af t
you bed prsytiliirtherurs.
CAN EVIL CONSEQUENCES RESULT mom
. - SOCIAL CARD.PLAYINGt
The question has' so often been propounded to the
writer.by those who occtudonally indulge in the timocent
amusement of family or social card playing, that he Iwo
been induced to an/B*er it by telating• melancholy
dent which happened to (tome under his own observa
tion. and which forcibly illustrates'the evil tendency and
danger of playing cards for amusement.
In the year 1837, while on board a steamer bound fat'
New Orleans. from Louisville , Ky.. I noticed that many
of the passengers were deeply engaged at cards, appar
ently for amUsetnent, as no money was visible, although
several professional gamblers wero seated at the garbing
tableS. One of the players was a gentleman, of high re
spectability, who was accompanied by his, family, con
sisting of a wife and four children. on their way South for
the benefit of the health of the lady, who was, a delicate
and eensitiie creature, rendered still more the object of
solicitude. by the manifest certain approaches of eon.
eumption. The gamblers soon discovered that the gen.
tleman was fond.of playing cards :for amusement, and
judging by their former experience. they knew they could
Overcome his scruples against batting. rind laid their
plans accordingly. I •
They'firet induced him top i ay fot the crude; then for
drinks and cigars; next for a Innen sum of money "just
for amusement." or "to make the game interesting:"—
Having decoyed their victim thus far. 'the rest of the
o:in gone•
6 built for
von ono
he ends of
to receive
gother by
The four
• Is of trees,
11611 to pre
• rth is piled
es between
work was easy: in two days from the time he common-
cod playing for atuusetnent. he was gripped, not only of ,
his money. but of all his transferrable property.
The captain of the boat was one of those iron•hearted
men. who seem to have no human impulses; ant when
ho ascertained that the gentleman could not pay his fare,
n he sternly- ordered him to prepare to
,leave the boat at the
- next landing. He begged to be allowed to proceed to
n NewlOrleans where ho would pay him. The wife also
.) i added her entreaties, and the claims of he'rydungchildren
: and her own ill-health. but all was of it° effect, the Captain
could bo incivcd by nothing but the
,mOney and ordoied
them to prepare to land. Accordingly, the anfortunot?
fatnily were mustered upon the forward deck. The boat
"came."o," opposite ono of those floating wharves so com
mon along the Mississippi river. The sun had set ; and
the darkness of night enshrouded the Melancholy group
as they took their departure the father leading the way
I followed by the wife and child. 'the eldest daughter iq
the rear, bearing the infant in her ems. As she at,
tempted to step upon the wart. she fell into the river.
but was fortunately rescued by the *nog arm of Ono of
the steamer's men. _ •
The mother heard the fatal plunge. and rushing to the
I brink of the wharf, frantically implored the bystandere
;to save the i child! SIM was told that her child was
safe; but heeding not Mil assurance, she. attempted to
throw herself into. the stream to rescue the idol of her
' heart; in this she was prevented by a fellow-passenger.
Iwho, pointing to her wet end shivering daughter, said.
P.do not y o u see your child?" "Yes"' said the agonized
lit i
othe, " t here stands my daughter; but the infant she
carried in her arms, is still in, the water. and will bo
drowned!". Nu pen can justly 'describe the exciternsql
of this moment; but high• above the frantic wailing' of
the mother and children and noisy exclamations of exci;
ted passengers!, was heard the stern, strong voicl of the
Captain ordering the hands to npuith off the boat!' They
obeyed: and left the panic-stricken father cad wretched
emily alone upon tho wharf, pennyhiss in a land of
sir - angers—sorry victims of the fashionable folly of play
ing cards for amusement—Neto York Day IPA,
EXTENT OF
.THE GOLD REGION,
One thousand steamers are constantly plying upend
Lein the Mississippi mud its trilintaries, averaging from
two hundred and fifty to fourteen hundred s tons burden.
Mr. Catlin, in a late lecture, said that Ito bia crossed and
recrossed tho great valley on the Mississippi in nearly
every latitude, and ho could plant in that valley fitly mil.
lions of lumen beings. ile,describes California as; one
thousand miles square. He had boeu over a greater
part of the country betnven the Groat - Salt Lake. the
Sierra Neveda, and the Rocky Mountains; and said this
tract (four hundred ) miles east and west, 'and lie hundred
to eight hundred mirth and south,) he had fohnd, for the
great part of the way, to bo most boautifylly variegated,
fine and fertile. in a great part it Walwatered with fine',
fresh streams. He believed this tract to be equally rich
in gold with that west or the Sierra Nevada, where they
were now digging; nay, he believed gold would be fOund
and worked with equal success east of the ROA). Montt.
wins. Thirty 'thousand Mormons. who had been the
first diggers in the present gold region, had suddenly
left 'it to go to the Great Salt Lske neighborhood. This
meant somethiog. By therlast accounts it appeared that
they had discovered gold near the lake, still more abun
dant than upon the hanks of the Sacramento, at a al..
lance of from four hundred to eight hundred miles up
that river. He believed that the three mountain chains
of the Sierra Nevada, the Rock) : Mountains and the Al
leghailies, had all Geed upraised by some great volcanio
or other subterancen forces and in being upheaved they .
broke the crust of white, milky quartz, lyirig horizontally
all over the country, and which experientie had shown
to be the native bed of gold. The uphea+ed mountain.
would shod this quartz and its ores into the valleys on
both sides; antkhence 'the latest accounts from the gold
region described them as breaking the lumps of quartz
with sleigh-hammers and picking out - the gold with
bowie-knives. The Rocky Mountains must have shed
this quartz with its gold deposit to the east a 4 well as the
west. lie mentioned finding the Camanches, the KW
v ay. and other tribes of Indians, teearing large lumps of
gold as neck ornaments; and ono old Kioway chief told
hint it was found seven days travel west of his village.
and offered, if he would stay, to send his young men
with him' to the- place; but Mr. Catlin being attacked
with a biliouS fever. and meeting with a party of dra.
goons. just then returning, made his way back to New
Orleans. The place indicated would be oast of, l the
Rocky Mountains. The present gold' region had an
area not lees than that of Great Britian! and he firmly
believed that in six mouths a tractnot less than la
thousand miles square would be fours -to contain, and
1
1 1 would be dug or mined' for, gold. 1 e referred to the
liberality of the United. States Government. opening the
f.
gold region to all the world, op condition of eaoh adven- -
turer payteg to it only fbur pee cent, of the gold he got;
s and expressed his conviction that a distant country like -
England would benefit mare by obtaining a fare Share'of
' gold in exchange fbr manufactures, than the country
near the "diggings." where rash and wild speculation
would prove ruinous to thousands. ' '
APT Qucrt4A follow who desired to make love to a
young girl. went to ask her father's permission: "You
have a tianghter. said he. whose fair fame enchants
met" "She is as heaven made her," replied the flat
tered father. "What, does the girl go naked?" enqui
red the suitor.
Irrln airing rooms. both the upper and lawer parts
of U' weadoir should be opened, as :the bad and heated
air. tern Ito- lightness. will pass out at the top. and tho
hos& pool air came in at the bottom.
EleCtiffee shOuld never to boiled. as boiling extra c t s
and dispels the fine aromatic oil tritielt gives it *vat cad
strength: It should be made by pouring' Ong water
titnnigh meets iR n 114TANOffl1
II
NUMBER 48.