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~tlett aetxg.
X AM NOT 11APPY.
You think I have a happy heart
Because a smile I wear,
But none can tell the bitter grief
That's daily gnawing there.
'0: once I had a happy home,
And friends and parents dear;
But now they all are passed away,
And left me wandering here.
But yet I would not wish them back,
In this lono world of care ;
But rather would I leave this earth,
And rise to meet them there.
I, too, like them, am passing on,
Death soon will seal my tate;
Nor do I care how soon he comes,
Nor mourn he stays so late.
Nor do T heed, though frowning wealth
May scorn• my form to see,
'hero they are soon I hope to rise,
Where I am they must be.
But I will strive my talent here
To improve as God has given,
That I may rise at last above,
To share the joys of Heaven.
'THE 11107IPIEEIVS SOLILOQUY.
My hope was all in thee,
My own, my angel boy,
I deem'd not, that sickness,
Would thy fair form destroy
Soon paleness o'er thy brow
Its snow-white mantle spread,
On thy sweet lips the glow
Lay withered, pale, and dead.
Oppressed with woes untold,
To see thee fading there,
lly heart grew chill and cold,
It yielded to despair.
And thou art gone. my child,
Thou art in dust laid low.
Those eyes I thought so mild
Are closed on all below.
Thou east the only one
Left to my care and love,
And now. even thou art gone—
Thy spirit dwells above.
Nistgrian.
HISTORICAL EXTRACTS
DEATH OF JLLIUS C.X,5..111
The morning of the Ides of March, the
clay on which the conspiracy was to be execu
ted, arrived, and there was yet no suspieien.
The conspirators had already been together
at the house of one of the pmetors. Cassius
was to present his son that morning to the
people, with the ceremony usual in assuming
the habit of manhood ; and he was upon this
account, to be attended by his friends into
the place of assembly. lie was afterwards,
together with Brutus in their capacity of
magistrate, employed as usual, in giving
judgment on the causes that were brought be
fore them. As they sat in the prretor's chair,
they received intimation that Ccesar, having
been disposed over night, was not to be abroad. ;
and that ho had commissioned Antony, in
his name, to adjourn the senate to another
Ilay. Upon this report, they suspected a dis
covery ; and while they were deliberating
what should be done, Popilius Lamas, a sen
ator whom they had not entrusted with their
design, whispered them as -he passed, " I
pray that God may prosper what you have in
view. Above all things dispatch." Their
suspicions of a discovery being thus still fur
ther confirmed, the intention soon after ap
peared to be public. An acquaintedce told
Casca, "You have concealed this business
from me, but Brutus told me of it." They
were struck with surprise ; but Brutus pres
4ntly recollected that he had mentioned to
this person no more than Casca's intention of
standing for nedile, and that the words which
he spoke probably referred only to that busi
ness ; they accordingly determined to wait
the issue of these alarms.
In the meantime Caesar, at the persuasion
of Decimus Brutus, though once determined
to remain at home, had changed his mind,
-and was already in the streets, being carried
to the senate in his litter. Soon after he had
left his own house, a slave came thither in
haste, desired protection,
and said he had a
secret to impart. He had probably over
heard the conspirators, or had observed that
they were armed ; but not being aware how
pressing the time was, he suffered himself to
be detained till Cwsar's return. Others,
probably, had observed circumstances which
led to a discovery of the plot, and Cxsar had
a.-billet to this effect, given to him as he pass
ed in the streets ; he was entreated by the
person who gave it instantly to read it, and
,he endeavored to do so, but was prevented by
the multitudes who crowded around him with
numberless applications ; and he still carried
this paper in . his hand when he entered the
senate.
Brutus and most of the conspirators had
taken their places a little while before the ar
rival of Cm.sar, and continued to be alarmed
by many circumstances which tended to shake
their resolution. Porcia, in the same mo
ments, being in great agitation, exposed her
self to public notice. She listened with anx
iety to every noise in the streets; she de
spatched without any pretence of business,
continual messages towards the place where
the senate was assembled ; she asked every
person who came from that quarter if they
observed what her husband was doing. Her
spirit at last sunk under the effect of such
violent emotions ; she fainted away, and was
carried for dead into her apartment. A mes.-
sage came to Brutus in the senate with this
account. He was much affected, but kept
his place. Popilius Lmnas, who a little be
fore seemed, from the expression he had
dropped, to have got notice of their design,
appeared to be in earnest conversation with
Cmsar, as he lighted from his carriage. This
left the conspirators no longer in doubt that
they were discovered; and they made signs
to each other, that he would be better to die
by their ovru bands than to fall in the hands
of their enemy. But they saw cf a sudden
the countenance of Lamas change into a
smile, and perceived that his conversation
with Cmsar could not relate to such a busi
ness as theirs.
093SaIff3 chair of state had been placed near
to the pedestal of Pompey's statue. Nnm-
....;1 50
WILLIAM LEWIS,
VOL. XIII.
bers of the conspirators had seated them
selves around it. Trebonius, under pretence
of business, had taken Antony at the side of
the entrance of the theatre. Cimber, who,
with others of the conspirators, met Cmsar in
the portico, presented him a petition in favor
of his brother, who had been excepted from
the late indemnity ; and in urging the prayer
of this petition, attended the dictator to his
place. Having there received a denial from
Ccesar, uttered with some expressions of im
patience at being so much importuned, he
took hold of his robe, as if to impress the en
treaty. Xall, said Cmsar, this is violence.—
While he spoke these words, Cimber flung
back the gown from his shoulders ; and this
being the signal agreed upon, called out to
strike. Casca aimed the first blow. Cmsar
started from his place, in the first moment of
surprise, pushed Cimber with one arm, and
laid hold of Casca with the other. But he
soon perceived that resistance was vain ; and
while the swords of the conspirators clashed
with each other, in their way to his body, he
wrapped himself up in his gown and fell
without any further struggle. It was observ
ed, in the superstition of the times, that in
falling, the blood which sprung from his
wounds sprinkled the pedestal of Pompey's
statue. And thus having employed the
greatest abilities to subdue his fellow-citizens,
with whom it would have been a much greater
honor to have been able to live on terms of
equality, he fell in the height of his security,
a sacrifice to their just indignation ; a strik
ing example of what the arrogant have to
fear in trifling with the feelings of a free peo
ple, and at the same time a lesson of jeal
ousy and of cruelty to tyrants, or an admo
nition not to spare, in the exercise of their
power, those whom they may have insulted
by usurping it.
When the body lay breathless on the ground,
Cassus called out, that there lay the worst of
men. T.lrutus called upon the senate to judge
of the transaction which had passed before
them, and was proceeding to state the motives
of those who were concerned in it, when the
members, who had for a moment stood in
silent amazement, rose on a sudden, and be
gan to separate in great consternation. All
those who had come to the senate in the train
of Caesar, his lictors, the ordinary officers of
state, citizens, and foreigners, with many
servants and dependants of every sort, had
been instantly seized with a panic ; and as if
the swords of the conspirators were drawn
against themselves, had already rushed into
the streets, and carried terror and confusion
wherever they went. The senators themselves
now followed. No man had presence of mind
to give any account of what had happened,
but aepcated the cry that was usual on great
alarms, for all persons to withdraw, and to
shut up their habitations and shops. This
cry was communicated from one to another
iii the streets. The people, imagining that
a general massacre was somewhere begun,
shut up, and barred all their doors as in the
dead of night, and every one prepared to de
fend his own habitation.
EE2EI
Antony, upon the first alarm, had changed
his dress, and retired to a place of safety.—
Ile believed that the conspirators must have
intended to take his life, together with that
of Ca sar ; and he fled in the apprehension of
being instantly pursued.
Lipidus repaired to the suburbs, where the
legion he commanded was quartered ; and
uncertain whether Cmsar's death was the act
of the whole senate, or of a private party,
awaited fur an explanation, or an order from
the surviving consul, to determine in what
manner he should act. In these circumstan
ces a general pause, and an interval of sus
pense and silence took place over the whole
city.
Cassius after the route of his division, with
a few who had adhered to him, had halted on
an eminence, and sent Titinius to the right,
with orders to learn the particulars of the
day on that side. This officer, while yet in
sight, was met by a party of horsemen emerg
ing from the clouds of dust on the plain.—
::This party had been sent by Brutus to learn
the situation of his friends on the left: but
Cassius supposing them to bo enemies, and
believing that Titinius, whom he saw sur
rounded by them, was taken, he instantly,
with the precipitant despair, which, on other
occasions, had proved so fatal to the cause of
the republic, presented his breast to a slave
to whom he had allotcd, in case of any urgent
extremity, the office of putting an end to his
life. Titinius, upon his return, imputing
this fatal calamity to his 'own neglect in not
trying sooner to undeceive his general by
proper signals, killed himself, and fell upon
the body of his friend. Brutus soon after ar
rived at the same place, and seeing the body
of Cassius, shed tears of vexation and sorrow
over the effects of an action so rash and pre
cipitate, and which deprived the republic and
himself, in this extremity, of so able and so
necessary a support. This, he said, is the
last of the romance.
As, from the signal now made, it appeared
to Brutus and the small company who atten
ded him, that the camp was still in posses
sion of their own people, they thought of
making their way thither, but recollecting
that a greater part of the army were dispersed,
they doubted whether the lines could be de
fended until they could reach them, or even
if they should be maintained so long, wheth-;
er they could furnish any safe retreat. While
they reasoned in this manner, one of their
number who went to the brook, returned with
the alarm that the enemy were upon the op
posite bank; and saying, with some agitation,
"We must fly." "Yes," replied Brutus, "but
with our hands, not with our feet." He was
then said to have repeated, from some poet, a
tragic exclamation in the character of Her
cules: "0 Virtue! I thought thee a substance,
but find thee no more than an empty name,
or the slave of Fortune." The vulgar in
their traditions, willingly lend' their own
thoughts to eminent men in distress; those of
Brutus are expressed in his letter to .Atticus:
"I have done my part, and wait for the issue,
in which death or freedom is to follow." If
he had ever thought that a mere honorable
DEATII Or CASSIUS.
DEATH OF BRUTUS
intention, was to insure him success, it is not
surprising he was not sooner undeceived.—
Being now to end his life, and taking his
leave of the company then present, one by
one, he said aloud, "That he was happy in
never having been betrayed by any one he
had trusted as a friend:" Some of them, to
whom he afterwards whispered apart were
observed to burst into tears; and it appeared
that he requested their assistance in killing
himself ; for he soon after executed this pur
pose, in company with one Strato and some
others, whom he had taken aside.
This catastrophe, as usual, set the imagi
nations of men to work ; and many prodigies
and presages were believed to have preceded
it. A spectre, it was said, had presented it
self in the night to Brutus, when he was
about to pass the Hellespont, told him it was
his evil genius, and was to meet him again
at Philippi ; that here it accordingly again
appeared on the eve of the late action.
Brutus was then about 37 or 40 years of
age. Next to Cato, he, of all the Romans,
was supposed to have acted from the purest
motives of public virtue.
Achillas, with a few of his attendants,
came on board with a small boat, delivered a
message from Ptolemy, inviting Pompey to
land. In the meantime, some Egyptian gal
leys, with an intention to secure him, drew
near to his ship; and the whole army with
the King at their head, were drawn out on
the shore to receive him. The size of the
boat, and the appearance of the equipage
which came on this errand, seemed dispro
portioned to the rank of Pompey; and Achil-
Las made an apology, alleging that deeper
vessels could not go near enough to land him
on that shallow part of the coast. Pompey's
friends endeavored to dissuade him from ac
cepting of au invitation so improperly deliv
ered ; but he answered by quoting two lines
from Sophocles, which implies, that whoever
visits a Icing, - though he arrive a free man,
must become his slave. Two of his servants
went before him into the boat to receive their
master; and with this attendance he put off
from the ship.
His wife, Cornelia, and Sextus, the young
est of his sons, with some other friends, re
mained upon deck, sufficiently humbled by
the preceding strokes of fortune, (defeat at
Pharsalia,) anxious for the future, and tremb
ling under the expectations of a scene which
was acting before them. Soon after the barge
had left the ship, Pompey looking behind
him, observed among the Egyptian soldier
a person whose countenance he recollected,
and said to him—" Surely, fellow soldier, you
and I have served somewhere together."—
While he turned to speak these words, Achil
las beckoned to the other soldiers, who, un
derstanding to put the Roman general to
death, struck him with their swords. Pom
pey was so much prepared for this event, that
he perceived the whole of his situation at
once, and sunk without making any struggle,
or uttering one word. This was done in the
presence of the king of Egypt and of his
army, who were ranged on a kind of amphi
theatre, formed by the shore. The vessel in
which the unhappy Cornelia, with her fami
ly, was left, and the little squadron which
attended it, as if they had received a signal
to depart, cut their cables and fled.
Thus died Pompey, who, for about thirty
years, enjoyed the reputation of the first cap
tain of the age. The title of great, originally
no more than a casual expression of regard
from Sylla, continued, in the manner of the
Romans, to be given him as a mark of esteem,
and a name of distinction. He attained to
more consideration, and enjoyed it longer
than any Roman citizen ; and was supplanted
at last, because for many years of his life, be
thought himself too high to be rivalled, and
too secure to be shaken in his place. His
last defeat, and the total ruin which ensued
upon it, wasthe consequence of an unweening
confidence, which left him altogether unpre
pared for the first untoward event. The im
pression of his character, even after that event,
was still so strong in the minds of his ene
mies, that Calsar overlooked all the other re
mains of the vanquished party to pursue their
leader.
Marcus Cicero having got safe to Asturn,
and with a fair wind arrived at Circii. When
the vessel was again about to sail, his mind
wavered, he flattered himself that matters
might yet take a more favorable turn ; he
landed, and traveled about twelve miles on
his way to Rome; but his resolution again
failed him, and he once more returned towards
the sea. Being arrived on the coast, he still
hesitated, remained on shore, and passed the
night in agonies of sorrow, which were in
terrupted oni, • by momentary starts or indig
nation and rage. Under these emotions, he
sometimes solaced himself with a prospect of
returning to Rome in disguise, of killing him
self in the presence of Octavius, and of stain
ing the person of that young traitor with the
blood of a man, whom he had so ungrateful
ly and so vilely betrayed. Even this appear
ed to his frantic imagination some degree of
revenge ; but the fear of being discovered be
fore he could execute his purpose, the pros
pect of the tortures and indignities he was
likely to suffer, deterred him from the design;
and being unable to take any resolution what
ever, he committed himself to his attendants,
was carried on board of a vessel, and steered
for Capua. Near to this place, having an
other villa on the shore, he was again landed,
and being fatigued with the motion of the
sea, went to rest ; but his servants, according
to the superstition of the times, being dis
turbed with prodigies and unfavorable presa
ges, or rather being sensible of their master's
danger, after a little repose awaked him from
his sleep, forced him into his litter, and has
tened again to embark. Soon after they
were gone, Popilius, Dmnas, a tribune of the
legions, and Ilerennius, a centurion, with a
party who had been for some days in search
of this prey, arrived at the villa. Popilius
had received particular obligations from Cice
ro, having been defended by him when tried
upon a criminal accusation ; but these were
times, in which bad men could make a merit
of ingratitude to their former benefactors,
HUNTINGDON, PA., JULY 8, 1857.
DEATII OP POMPEY.
DEATII or CICERO
-PERSEVERE.--
when it served to ingratiate them with those
in power.
This officer, with his party, finding the
gates of the court and. the passages of the
villa shut, burst them open ; but missing the
person they sought for, and suspecting he
must have taken his flight again to the sea,
they pursued through an avenue that led to
the shore, and came in sight of Cicero's lit
ter, before he had left the walks of his own
garden.
On the appearance of a military party,
Cicero perceived the end of his labors, order
ed the bearers of his litter to halt, and hav
ing been hitherto, while there were any hopes
of .escape, distressed chiefly by the perplexity
and indecision of his own mind, he became,
as soon as his fate appeared. to be certain,
determined and calm. In this situation, he
was observed to stroke his chin with his left
hand, a gesture for which he was remarka
ble in his moments of thoughtfulness, and
when least disturbed. Upon the approach of
the party, lie put his head from the litter,
and fixed his eyes upon the tribune with great
composure. The countenance of a man so
well known to every Roman, now worn out
by fatigue and dejection, and disfigured by
the neglect of the usual attention to his per
son, made a moving spectacle, even to those
who came to assist in his murder. They hur
ried away, while the assassin performed his
office and severed the head from his body.
Thus perished Marcus Tullius Cicero, in
the sixty-fourth year of his age.
eittertsting . Rtistettim.
These touching words appeal to everyheart,
and find a corresponding echo in every soul.
To be loved, to be remembered by those we
hold dear is sweet. 0, the sad reflection
that with the departing years our memory
will fade from the hearts we had hoped to
cherish forever.
To feel that when the green grass shall
wave over our lowly bed, and the white mar
ble gleam coldly above to mark the spot,
fond hearts will grow cold, and the once los
ing friends pass by, pausing not to drop a
tear, or breathe one sigh of regret for the de
parted. 'Tis a solemn thought, and one that
calls up the recollections of by-gone days.—
But 'tis better far to close the weary eyes,
and repose the aching brow in death, and lie
(low'. beneath the. pure snow or fragrant
flowers, bedewed even for a season with tears
of sorrow, than to know that while we live
our image is effaced from the memory of
once fond hearts, that before the lamp of life
is gone out forever, we are dead to a world
of hope, love and joy. Remember me, even
when the grave has closed over all that re
mained of the poor frail worm of immor
tality,; and sometimes when life is all bright
and joyous, give one passing thought to the
blest sleeper, resting so sweetly front all
life's turmoil and cares. Remember me !
How sadly sweet these words reverberate in
the heart, haunting us ever with its soft
soothing melody, when the tried and cher
ished friends of youth press upon the brow
the farewell kiss.
Often will these sweet words come over
the heart like the echo of some soul-subdu
ing music, softening down the asperities of
our natures, filling the soul with lung forgot
ten strains.
I have seen the cherished idol of the house
hold close his eyes in death, leaving the
world all dark to me, and now the snows of
many winters have lain lightly upon his
loved tomb, and sweet flowers have lifted
their meek heads above his breast, yet, his
last words of love and counsel arc over pres
ent with me, and my sorrow, mellowed by
time as it is, has made his grave a hallowed
spot.
0, 'tis a pleasing memory, though fraught
with much of childish grief, the memory of
the dear, light-hearted friends of childhood,
and of their unfeigned grief at parting years
ago, when I was a merry happy child. But
alas I it is all past, and we shall never meet
again ; but
Fond memory often Urines the hours.
When life was radiant with youth's flowers
Remember me ! Yes, tho' our paths in
life may be widely separated, and sorrows
may fall heavily on my defenceless head,
making still fainter the weary heart, and
blighting the budding flowers of hope, then
when surrounded by home and friends, with
no clouds obscuring the bright heavens and
beautiful sunshine from life's journey, some
times remember me.
And when the heavens smile above me,
and roses instead of thorns adorn my path
way, I will look up in thanksgiving and
prayer to oar Father, for the constant friends
he has given, and bless Him, that in the
darkest hour He has remembered me.
ECONOMY.—Economy is one of throe sis
ters; of whom the other and less reputable
two are Avarice and Prodigality. She alone
keeps the safe and straight path, while Ava
rice sneers at her as profuse, and Prodigality
scorns her as penurious. To the poor she is
indispensable ; to those of moderato means
she is found the representative of wisdom;
and although some moralist has said, that at
the hearth of the opulent Economy takes the
form of a vice, she is perhaps as great a vir
tue there as she is elsewhere. Iler very
name signifies the law or rule of a house,
and her presence is as much required in the
palace as in tho cottage. The honest man
who lives within his income, and owes no
man anything, is your only true king.—
Economy is an excellent virtue, no doubt;
but like all other virtues, it must be applied
with prudence, or it will turn into a folly or
a vice. In the olden time there were sump
tuary laws, which, while they attached a
penalty to extravagance, set a fine on the
man who let a year pass without asking a
friend to dinner.—Athenamtnt.
rtia..Beauty often fades away, but mod
esty never decays.
REMEMBER ME
BY ELIZABETH J. COLE
Editor and Proprietor.
Thank God for a soul which can drink in
its harmonics. The pulse leaps wildly to the
stirring numbers, which, like the foot falls of
armed men, awaken the fiery impulses of the
slumbering heart. Or its low wail is answer
ed by sobs, and the eloquence of its plaintive
sadness, with tears.
The bugle and the drumbeat stir the blood
like red lightning in the veins. If there is
influence which would make the timid heart
like iron, and drive it madly to battle, it is
that of martial music. Often in childhood
have we watched the columns of soldiery, and
found a tear upon the cheek at the emotion
stirred by the tossing plume, the flaunting
banners, and the drumbeat pulsing regularly
through the whole mass like one common
footfall upon the beaten sward, sending the
thoughts surging through the soul. And yet,
alas! that music should be made the mighty
stimulus which drives host against host in
the battle shock. 1
We once stood„l?y the side of a friend in
the great proccOn which followed one hun
dred thousand'pVtitions up to the State Cap
itol at Albany, demanding the Maine Law.—
As the dense mass of people, like a mighty
monster moved by one heart, wound through
the city and lapped around the very Capi
tol itself, the emotions swelled to the throat.
The music of the bands rose and fell on the
wind, and the ground seemed to shake under
the tread of the people. "Glory!" ejaculated
a friend by the side of us, "I could march to
the Mississippi to that music, and back again
without eating or sleeping." lie was not the
only one who was - that hour chafing under
the wild ecstacy of music.
A few moments since, a shadow—one of
those which will drift without warning into
every sky—lay gloomy upon our heart. But
it vanished as quickly as it came ! A friend
touches the guitar, and the first waves of a
touching melody, filled the world and heart
with sunshine. The chafing spirit is soothed
and lulled, and the gentleness of childhood
steals in where the unworn will was sullenly
fretting in the worn frame. The soul rises
on the tide of a new emotion like a freed bird,
and the melodies there garnered, gush up and
chime out with the airs of the shell. A sum
mer sky is now above us.
How much of holy music there is in the chi
ming of church bells! Tremulous with sil
very sweetness, they rise and fall upon the
still Sabbath air, stealing along until, like
the faint sounds of a waterfall, they drop
down into the heart where it is ever moist
with tears.
Napoleon wept as he listened to the chim
ing of the distant cathedral bells of Barges.
There were places in his heart which had not
been burned oT•er by the meteor blaze of am
bition. The echoes of chimes heard in child
hood were stirred by the distant peal, and for
the moment, he forgot his dream of glory
and gazed tearfully back.—Caiptga Chic,/:
DYING Cox.rEssioNs.—The Toledo Blade,
remarking upon the recent execution of Re
turn J. M. Ward. in that city, quotes the re
mark of Dr. Bond, an eminent physician of
Baltimore, who said that fifty years' experi
ence at the bedsides of the sick and dying
had taught him that the most deceptive mo
ments of a man's whole life are those in which
he lingers on the very boundary between life
and death; and the words then spoken reflect
the prevailing motives of their lives; and mor
alizes thereon as follows :
"People are very apt to think, when a
criminal denies his guilt on the gallows, in
view of such awful circumstances, that he
must be innocent. But the history of crim
inal law shows that nothing is more errone
ous than such an opinion; and the dying
speech of Ward, in contrast with his written
confession, goes still further to show how lit
tle dependence can be placed on a man whose
life is one everlasting duplicity. If Ward
told the truth on the scaffold, he lied repeat
edly before. If he told the truth in his confes
sion he lied on the scaffold. Whichever di
lemma we take, the' result will go to show
that the view of certain death does not make
men honest."
TUE PURCIIASE or MOUNT VERNON.—St.
Louis, (Mo. ' ) has taken the lead in inaugu
rating the 4th of July movement in behalf
of the Mount Vernon purchase. On the com
ing celebration there, a grand demonstration
will be made, in which Senator Douglas,
"the little giant," and ex-Senator ilannegan,
will occupy prominent positions as orators of
the day and the occasion. A similar patri
otic and filial demonstration is in preparation
at the South Carolina Citadel Academy, un
der the auspices of the instructors. The
young lads there design to enrol themselves
as "Knights of the Southern Matron," in the
Order of Mount Vernon. Georgia has also
taken decisive action in the premises, and
the men of Augusta, in obedience to the be
hests of "accomplished Eve," have laid the
free will offering of patriot gratitude on the
shrine of Washington.
THE MOTTLER.----DOSpiSe not thy mother
when she is old. Age may wear and waste
a mother's beauty, strength, limbs, senses,
and estate ; but her relation as a mother is
as the sun when it goeth forth in its might,
for it is always in the meridian, and know
eth no evening. The person may be gray
headed, but her motherly relation is ever in
its bloom, It may be autumn, yes, winter,
but with the mother as mother, it is always
spring. Alas, how lit:tle do we appreciate a
mother's tenderness while living ! How
heedless are we in youth of all her anxieties
and kindness ! But when she is dead and
gone—when the cares and coldness of the
world come withering to our heart—when
we experience how hard it is to find true
sympathy—how few love us for ourselves—
how few will befriend us in misfortune—then
it is that we think of the mother we have
lost.
According to the most recent French
style for ladies' dresses, it will take twenty
two yards of anything hereafter to make any
thing like a pattern. Who is
.going to be
such a fool as to get married at this rate?
NO, 3.
Music.
A WORD TO I3ors.—Boys, what'company
do you keep? what company do you shun?—
We are known by the company we keep. A
boy that keeps bad company is sure to be bad.
1. Those who ridicule parents or disobey
their commands.
2. Those who profane the Sabbath, orseoff
at religion.
3. Those who use profane or filthy lan-
gunge.
:,
4. Those who are unfaithful, play truant
or waste their time in idleness.
5. Those who are of a quarrelsome tem-
per.
6. Those who are addicted to lying and
stealing.
7. Those who take pleasure in torturing
animals and insects.
S. Those who loaf around grog-shops;
smoke and drink whiskey.
A neighbor related to us, the other
day, an instance of feline affection, or good
will, that deserves to be recorded among the
passing events of the day. There is about
the house, a favorite dog, who has become so
old and decrepit as to be in a measure una
ble to provide for his daily wants. A cat,
also about the premises, has become so much
attached to him, that when, a few days since,
her usual allowance of meat was given to
her, she deliberately took the meat in her
mouth, went to where the dog was lying,
dropped it at his nose and walked off as
though she had performed nothing more than
her duty; and, this is not an isolated instance
of her care for her canine cousin, but she
may be seen almost daily evincing her friend
ly care to her friend, by her acts of kindness.
The Niles Enquirer records the good luck
of a citizen of that village, who, while bath
ing in the river, discovered, after an indus
trious scrub" of his person of about five
minutes, a pair of drawers which he had lost
two years before.
A little boy, five years old, while writhing
under the tortures of the ague, was told by
his mother to rise up and take a powder she
had prepared for him.
" Powder 1 powder I" said he, raising him
self on one elbow, and putting on a rogueish
smile, "Mother, I ain't a gun !"
"I say, friend, is there nothing to shoot
about here?" asked Kentucky sportsman of a
little boy.
"Wall, nothin' just about here, stranger,
but the schoolmaster is down the hill yonder--
you might pop him over."
A little boy once said to his grandmoth
er:
"Grandmother, I hope you will dio first."
Why so, my child?" "Because I can stand
trouble better than you can." This hit from
an affectionate and bravo boy occasioned great
laughter.
The Chinese think that the soul of a poet
passes into a grasshopper, because it sings till
it starves.
ra=-Puzzrn.—A lady being asked by a gen
tleman to join in the bonds of matrimony
with him, wrote the word. "STRIPES," stating
at the time that the letters making up the
word stripes, could be changed so as to make
an answer to his question. Who can give the
answer?
"You are from the country, are you not,
sir?" said a dandy clerk, in a book store,to a
handsomely dressed quaker, who had given'
him some trouble.
"Well, hero is an essay on the rearing of
calves."
",That," said Aminailab, as he turned to
leave the store, thee had better present to thy
mother."
Woman, to a little boy.—
your folks all well !"
Little boy.—" Yes, ma'am, all but Sally
Ann."
Woman.—'
ber?"
"Why, what's the matter with
Little boy.—" 0 nothing particular only
she had the hoopin' cough once, and she ain't
never got over it. The cough haint of any
account now, but she has the hoop most des
per'te."
That was a wise nigger who, in
speaking of the happiness of married peo
ple, said, " .Dat ar 'pend altogedder how dey
enjoy demselbs 1"
Blessed are they who are afraid of thunder
—for - they shall hesitate about getting married
and keep away from political meetings.
A Wiltshire dame, the mothor of a large
family, was once asked the number of her
children, "La, me!" she replied, rocking to
and fro, "I've got fourteen, mostly boys and
pirls•
V. - a-The Home Journal is responsible for
the latest definition of beauty—that which has
puzzled the brain of the wisest philosophers.
It says:—" Beauty, dear reader, is the 2roman
:you lore—whatever sho may be to oth
ers."
Irish lady wrote to her lover, beg
ging him to send her some money. She
added by way of postscript, "I am so asham
ed of the request I have made in this let
ter, that I sent after the post-rider to get
it back, but the servant could not overtake
him."
xI.A woman in one of the towns of New
Hampshire who had been ill used by her hus
band on finding him asleep one day, quiet
sewed him up in the bed clothes, and then
gave him a tremendous thrashing
11 shrewd old gentleman once said to'
his daughter, "Be sure, my dear, that you
never marry a poor man : but remember, the
poorest man in the world, is the one that has
money and nothing else..." There is much
in this and we. commend it to the ladies.
rt..-. Boss, I want twenty five cents.
Twenty-five cents! How soon do you want
it, Jake?
Next Tuesday.
As soon as that? You can't have it, I have'
told you often that -when you was in want of
so large a sum of money you must give me at
least four weeks notice.
WANTED—By an ancient maiden lady---
"A local habitation and a name."
The real estate she is not particular about,
so that the title is good . . The name she
wishes to hand down to posterity. Apply to
the above before taken.
110,,..A farmer near 13ingharripton; New .
York State, last year, in order to convince a
neighbor of the usefulnew of birds, shot a
Mellon* bird in his wheat field; opened its
craw, and found in it two hundred weevils;
and but four grains the weevils had bur=
rowed.
Partin ;ton says she has noticed
that whether flour was dear or cheap, she in-:
variably had to pay the same money for a
half dollar's worth.
No " CI ANGE."-A sailor, looking serious
in a church, in New York, was asked by a
minister if he felt any change. " Not .ss
cent," said Jack.
"Jimmy are