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let. Because its literary contents will, during the year,
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AGENTS GETTING RICH.
The success which our agents are meeting with is almost
astonishing. Among the many evidences of this fact, we
are permitted to publish the following :
GENTLEMEN: The following facts in relation to what
your Agents are doing in this section, may be of use to
some enterprising young man in want of employment.—
The Rev. John E. Jordon. of this place, has made, since
last Christmas, over $4,000 in his agency. Mr. David M.
Beath, of Ridgly, Mo., your general agent for Platt county,
is making $8 per day ou each sub-agent employed by him,
and Megsrs. Weimer & Evans, of Oregon, Mo., your agents
for Holt county, aro making from $8 to 25 per day, and
your humble servant has made, since the 7th day of last
January, over $1,700, besides paying for 300 acres of land
out of the business worth over $l,OOO. You are at liberty
to publish this statement, if you like, and to refer to any
of the parties named. DANIEL Gaaao, Carrolton, Mo.
With such inducements as wo offer, anybody can obtain
subscribers. We invite every gentleman out of employ
ment, and every lady who desires a pleasant money-ma
king occupation to apply at once for an agency. Appli
cants should inclose 25 cents for a specimen copy of the
Magazine, which will always be forwarded with answer to
application by return mail.
As we desire to place in the hands of every person who
proposes to get up a club, and also of every agent, a copy
of the engraving of "The Last Supper," as a specimen,
each applicant inclosing us $3, will receive the engraving,
post-paid, by return mail, also specimens of our publication
and one of the numbered subscription receipts, entitling
the holder to the Magazine one year and to a chance in the
distribution. This offer is made oniy to those who desire
to act as agents or to form clubs. Address
OAKSMITII & CO.,
No. 371 Broadway, New York.
Jan. 13, 1858
CIMPORTANT TO FARMERS.—The
most valuable MANURE now in the market is MIT
ELL Sc CROASDALE'S Improved Ammoniated BONE
SUPER-PHOSPHATE OF LIME. It not only stimulates
the growing crop, but permanently enriches the land. It
is prepared entirely by ourselves under the direction of ono
of the first Chemists in the country, and is warra nixcl pure
and uniform in its composition. It only needs to be seen
by the intelligent Farmer to convince him of its intrinsic
value as a permanent Fertilizer. For sale in large or small
quantities, by CROASDALE, PEIRCE & CO.,
104 North Wharves, one door above Arch St., Philada.,
And by moat of the principal dealers throughout the coun
try. [March 24, 1858-3 m.
ALEXANDRIA FOUNDRY !
Tbe Alexandria Foundry has hoCn
phught by R. C. McCrILL, and is in blast,
and have all kinds of Castings, Stoves, Ma-5P
chines, Plows, Kettles, &c., &c., which he m-gjimiwiCulit g
dill sell at the lowest prices. All kinds
of Country Produce and old Metal taken in exchange for
Castings, at market prices
April 7, 1858
NOTlCE.—Estate of John Hastings,
dec'd. Letters of Administration, with the will an
nexed, on the Estate of J OHN HASTINGS, late of Walk
er township, Huntingdon county, dec'd., having been
granted to the undersigned, she hereby notifies all persons
indebted to said estate to make immediate payment, and
those having claims against the same to present them dul y
authenticated for settlement.
April 21, 1858. ELLEN HASTINGS, Adm'trix.
TO MERCHANTS AND FARMERS.
GROUND PLASTER can be had at the Huntingdon
r and Plaster Mills, in any desirable quantities, on
and after the Ist day of March, 1858. We deliver itfresqf
charge on the cars at the depots of tho Pennsylvania and
Broad Top Railroads,
Feb. 24, 1858
COUNTRY DEALERS can
buy CLOTHING from me in Huntingdon at
WHOLESALE as cheap as they can in the
Cities, as I have a wholesale store in Philadelphia.
Huntingdon, April 14, 1S:58. H. ROMAN.
I / • 1 a • • " I,
Call at the atoro of BENJ. JACOBS.
R. C. 31cGrLL
FISILER & McINIIIRTRTE
LITTLE BY LITTLE.
"Little by little," as an acorn said,
As it slowly sank in its mossy bed;
"I am improving every day,
Hidden deep in the earth away."
Little by little each day it grew ;
Little by little it sipped the dew;
Downward it sent out a thread-like root;
Up in the air sprung a tiny shoot.
Day after day, and year after year,
Little by little, the leaves appear ;
And the slender branches spread far and wide,
Till the mighty oak is the forest's pride.
Far down in the depths of the dark blue sea:
An insect train work ceaselessly ;
Grain by grain, they are building well,
Each one alone in its little cell,
Moment by moment, and day by day,
Never stopping to rest or play.
Rocks upon rocks they are rearing high,
Till the top looks out on the sunny sky ;
The gentle wind and the balmy air,
Little by little, bring verdure there:
Till the summet' sunbeams gaily smile
On the buds and flowers of the coral isle.
"Little by little," said a thoughtful boy,
"Moment by moment, I'll well emmploy,
Learning a little every day,
And not spending all my time in play.
And still this rule in my mind shall dwell,
"Whatever i do, I will do well."
Little by little, I'll learh to know
The treasured wisdom of long ago ;
And one of these days perhaps we'll see
That the world will be better for me."'
And do not you think that this simple plan
Made him a 'wise and useful man?
3„ cititrt citing.
TRUTH 4.ND HONE STY.
A LESSON FOR LITTLE BOYS.
A revolution of opinions is taking place in
the present day ; sectarian and national pre
judices are giving way to a holy feeling of
universal brotherhood; military conquests are
robbed of their tinsel, and appear in their
native deformity ; and moral dignity, though
discovered amid poverty and ignorance, is
•raised to its legitimate place, exciting the re
spect and admiration of all capable of esti
mating true worth. This latter remark will
plead an apology for introducing to the read
er a young hero, filling a station no higher
than that of a pupil of a parochial school.
Two boys, of nearly the same age, were
one day amusing themselves with that dan
gerous, though not uncommon, pastime, pelt
ing each other with stones. They had chosen
one of the squares of the playground, think
ing by this means to avoid doing mischief.—
To the consternation of the thrower, howev
er, a missile, instead of resting on the shoul
ders of at whom it was aimed, entered the li
brary window of one of the lordly mansions
forming the quadrangle.
" Why don't you take to your heels, you
blockhead ; you will have the police after you,
whilst you are standing staring there," was
the exclamation of his companion, and he
caught him by the arm in order to drag him
from the spot. The author of the mischief
still retained his thoughtful position.
" If your father is obliged to pay for this,
you will stand a chance of having a good
thrashing, Jack," the other boy urged.
" Never mind, Tom, leave me to myself,"
was the reply ; and the young delinquent
moved, with unfaltering step, towards the
door of the mansion, the knocker of which he
unhesitatingly raised. The summons was an
swered by a footman.
" Is the master of the house at home ?" he
with some diffidence inquired.
" Ile is."
"Then I wish to see him, if you please."
" That you can't do, my man ; but I'll de
liver any message for you."
" No, that will not do. I must, indeed I
mustr see the gentleman himself." The earn
estness and perseverance of the boy at length
induced him to comply with his request, and
opening the door of the library, he apologised
for askinc , his master to see a shabby little
fellow ; adding that he could neither learn
his business nor get rid of him.
" Bring him in," said the gentleman ad
dressed, who, having witnessed the transac
tion, and overheard the conversation, was cu
rious to know the object of the boy's visit.—
The poor child, whose ideas had never soared
above his father's second floor, stood for some
moments in stupefied amazement when ush
ered into an elegant apartment ; but remem
bering the painful circmstance which had
brought him into this scene of enchantment,
he in some measure regained his self-posses
" I am very sorry, sir," he began in a fal
tering voice, " but i have broken your win
dow. My father is out of work just now, and
cannot pay for it ; but if you • will be kind
enough to take the money a little at a time,
as I can get it, I will be sure to make it up;"
and. as he spoke, he drew a few halfpence
from his pocket and laid them on the table.
" That's an honest speech, my lad ; but
how am I to be sure that you will fulfil your
engagement?" Mr. Cavendish returned.—
"Do you know that I could have sent you to
the station-house till the money is made up?"
"Oh ! don't send me there, sir ; it would
break my dear mother's heart. I will pay
you all, indeed I will, sir ;" and the poor boy
burst into a flood of tears.
" I am glad you have so much considera
tion for your mother's feelings ; and, for her
sake, I will trust to your honesty."
" Oh ! thank you, sir, thank you !"
" But when do you expect to make me
another payment ? This is a very small sum
towards the price of a large square of plate
glass ;" and as he spoke he glanced at the
four halfpence which the boy had spread out.
" This day week, sir, if you ialease."
." Very well , let it be so. At this hour I
shall be at home to see you." Poor Jack made
his very best bow and retired.
True to his appointment, our high-princi-
.: .. ~
pled boy appeared at the door of Mr. Caven
dish's mansion. As the footman had previ
ously received orders to admit him, he was
immediately shown into the room.
I have a shilling for you to-day, sir I" he
said exultingly, and his countenance was ra
diant with smiles.
" Indeed I That is a large sum for a boy
like you to obtain in so short a time. I hope
you came by it honestly."
A flush of crimscn mounted to the cheek
of poor Jack ; but it was not the flush of
" 1 earned every penny of it, sir, excepting
one my mother gave me to make it up," he
energetically replied ; and he proceeded to
say that he had been on the look-out for jobs
all week; that he held the horse for one gen
gentleman, and he had run on an errand for
another ; in this way accounting for eleven
" Your industry and perseverance do you
credit, my lad I" Mr. Cavendish exelaimed,
his benevolent countenance lighting up with
a smile. `• And now I should like to know
your name and place of residence."
" I will write it, sir, if you please. Indeed,
I brought a piece of paper for the purpose of
putting down the money. I hope I shall be
able to make it all up in a few weeks for .1 am
trying to get a situation as an errand-boy."
" You can write, then ?" Do you go to
" Oh, yes, sir. Igo to a free school !"
And Jack stepped fbrward to take the pen
which Mr. Cavendish held toward him.
" You write a tolerably good hand, my lit
tle man. You may, I think, do better than
take an errand-boy's place. Let me see if
you have any knowledge of arithmetic."
Jack stood boldly up, and unhesitatingly
replied to the various questions which were
put to him. •
"That will do, my good boy. Now, when
do you think you will be able to come and
bring me some more money ?"
"I will come again this time next week, if
I'm alive and well, sir."
" That was wisely added, my lad, for our
lives are not in our own keeping. This, I
see, you havo been taught!!
Another week passed, and again Jack ap
peared, but his countenance wore an aspect
" I am very sorry, sir," he said, " I have
been unfortunate, and have only a small sum
to give you. And as he spoke, he laid three
pennyworth of halfpence before Mr. Caven
dish.- " I assure you, sir," he earnestly ad
ded, " I have offered my services to every
gentleman on horseback that I could see."
"I believe you my boy ; I am pleased with
your honest intentions. ' Perhaps you will
meet with better success another time. Let
me see, you have now paid one shilling and
fivepence ; that is not amiss for the time ;"
and, with an encouraging smile, Mr. Caven
dish suffered him to depart.
Though Mr. Cavendish had, from the first,
concealed his intentions, his heart was plan
ning a work of benevolence which was noth
ing less than to befriend the poor boy whose
noble conduct had won his admiration. For
this end he, a few days subsequently, paid
the parents a visit when he knew that the
son would be at school. He related the inci
dent which had brought' him under his no
tice, and proceeded to ask whether his con
duct toward themselves was equally praise
" 0 yes, sir !" exclaimed the mother, her
eyes filling with tears. "He has ever been
a dutiful child to us, and always acts in this
honest, straight-forward manner."
" He has, indeed, a noble spirit, sir," the
father rejoined ; " and I am as proud of him
as if he were a prince." -
" Would you part with him ?" Mr. Caven
dish asked. " I have something in view for
his future benefit."
" Undoubtedly we would for his benefit,"
was the reply of both.
" Well, then, purchase him a new suit of
apparel with these two guineas, and bring
him to my residence this day week. I will
acquaint "you with my vie ws for him for the
Language cannot describe the heartfelt
gratitude which beamed in the heart of the
parents, nor could find words to give it utter
When nest our young hero came into the
presence of his benefactor, his appearance
was certainly altered for the better, though
no disadvantages of dress could rob his noble
countenance of its lofty expression. Mr. Cav
endish had previously made arrangements for
him to become an inmate of his own house,
and had also entered his name as a pupil in
a neighboring school.
John Williams is now receiving a liberal
education, and enjoying all the advantages
which wealth can procure. Such a sudden
change of position and prospects would, in
many instances, prove injurious to the moral
character ; but with a mind based upon the
solid principles which our young friend pos
sesses, little fear may be entertained that such
will be the result.
The above little sketch is authentic in every
respect except in the names of the parties
concerned. The events occurred a few months
ago, and are here made public with the hope
that the truth and honesty, and judicious be
nevolence exhibited, may stimulate others to
" go and do likewise."
learn your own bread and see how
sweet it will be ! Work, and see how well
you will be. Work, and see how cheerful
-you will be ! Work, and see how indepen
dent you will be ! Work, and see how hap
py your family will be ! Work, and see
how religious you will be ! for before you
know where you are, instead of repining at
Providence you will find yourself offering up
thanks for all the numerous blessings you en
THE SECRET DIVULGED.-It is rumored that
Mr. Rarey, the American horse tamer, uses
a file of Congressional speeches to. subdue the
refractory animal put under his.charge. Af
ter reading about a quarter of an hour, the
quadruped gives in, and promises an entire
amendment of morals.and manners if he will
only stop.—Boston antr.
HUNTINGDON, Pi., MAY 19, 1858.
Spring, Birds, and Insects
The following " Talk about Birds, Scc.,"
we copy from the Portland Pleasure Boat.—
It should be read by every child in the land
and its lessons of humanity and utility en
forced by occasional parental preachments
on the same and similar subjects.
Well, children, spring, beautiful spring is
coming to warm your shivering limbs, to
strew the earth with flowers, and fill the air
with the sweet music; of butterfly, bee, and
You have had a good time through the win
ter, with your books, and schools, and sleds,
and skates, and have been cheered with the
merry sound of sleigh bells, and have most
of you had the pleasure of a ride, now-and
then ; but the scene is changing. If it were
always winter, you would weary of your
sports as well as your labors, and the world
would become a dull, weary place. But the
change of season brings something new to
cheer and enliven, and make you happy.
The snow and ice will soon disappear, and
the green grass and the sweet, beautiful
flowers will soon cover the barren earth,
which has been bound up in chilling snows.
The bees, and humming birds, and crickets,
and other merry creatures, will soon greet
you with their music. The robin, perched
on some tall tree, will, if you are not active,
commence bis songs before you are out of
How sweet his songs ! Though I have,
for many years been too deaf to hear him, I
can remember what he had used to sing
when I was a child, and I presume he is
singing the same song now. One of his
songs used to sound like this ; "Farmer,
cheer up, cheer up I spring's come ; cjieer
up, get the plow, work, work, be happy,
be happy, spring's come !
Then there was the blue-bird, fluttering
about to find some hollow old stump or sly
bola in some dead tree, to make his nest in ;
and the little, busy, sputtering, fussing wren,
that always seemed to me to feel like some
uneasy, scolding children I have seen. She,
also, builds her nest in some little hole in a
stump or tree, or in the framework of the
barn. I did not like the wren very well
when I was a boy, because she quarreled
with the swallow ; but perhaps she has im
proved since then, and as she is a busy little
thing, she gives you a good lesson in indus
try; so you must forgive her naughty tricks,
and try to love her, for she has a place in
the great family, and is necessary, or she
would not have been created.
Speaking of robins, reminds me of a lovely
pair that came three years ago, and built a
nest over my front door, within reach of my
hand. — When strangers came to the door,
the mother bird would fly from the nest and
hide in the shrubbery till they were gone ;
but when any of our own family went in or
out she would not move, for she knew we
would not harm her. When hoeing in the
garden, these robins would come within reach
of my hoe, to pick up worms, and they
seemed as dear to me as though they were a
part of the family. They reared two fami
lies of children that summer, and the nest
spring they came again and repaired the
same nest, by building it a little higher and
lining it anew; but when they had three
eggs, a wicked boy, while passing threw a
stone at and killed one of the birds. The
other flew about the nest and garden, mourn
ing several days, and then disappeared for
ever, leaving the nest and three eggs deso
Robins love to live near the habitations of
man, if they are not abused, and no good
child will try to injure or disturb them.—
They and other small birds are real friends
to the farmer and gardener, and protect the
grounds from the ravages of insects.
The gardener has another friend that I
ought to tell you about, that you may treat
him well. I mean the homely, clumsy look
ing toad. But he is not so homely nor so
clumsy as some of you think for. Look at
his eyes ; see how bright they are ! When
the sun shines he creeps under the door step
or some pieee of board or turf. He is not
very proud or particular about the appear
ance of his house ; if it protects him, he is
If you find the toad when the sun shines
bright and warm, he looks sleepy and lazy,
and some children hate him, and torture and
sometimes kill him. This is cruel, and an
act that no child should be guilty of. Watch
the little, homely fellow, when he creeps
from his hiding place, at sundown, to hunt
for food. He hunts and watches for food, as
much as the cat does for mice, but most of
his hunting is done at night, and this is one
reason why he appears so clumsy and sleepy
in the daytime. Watch him, I say, when he
creeps forth at night, and you will like him
better, for then he is wide awake. He hops
about till he sees a worm, bug, or some other
insect, which he wants for food ; then he
hops no more for fear of frightening the in
sect away, but creeps along softly, like the
cat when she sees a mouse, moving one foot
at a time. When ho comes near enough to
the insect he throws out his round tongue,
which is several inches long, something as
you would strike with a whip lash. His
tongue is covered with gluten or slime, and
when it hits the insect, the gluten sticks and
holds it fast, and the toad draws it into his
mouth. You often see the toad out hunting
in the daytime, after a shower. The reason
of this is, that the rain drives the insects
from their hiding places, and the toad comes
out to take them.
A few of these homely little creatures will
protect a cabbage yard or garden from the
ravages of insects ; and there is no animal—
not even the horse, ox, or cow, that is so
much profit to a farmer, according to his
size, as the toad.
Give him only a bit of board or a turf to
creep under, and he will work all summer
for nothing, and " find himself;" and when
winter comes he does not ask for food, like
the horse or ox, but freezes up, like a lump
of dirt, and there be is till the warm suns of
spring thaw him out.
He can do what you cannot. He can see
in the night as well as you can in the day.—
He can live all winter without food, frozen
up as hard as a stone, and, it is said, if he
is buried up in the earth, he will live for
years and years. It has been affirmed that
toads have been taken out of solid rocks,
alive, far below the surface of the earth. It
is believed they became buried up, and there
remained until the matter in which they were
buried changed to stone.
Now, children, you will not hate the birds,
and the toads, and the insects, any more,
will you ? They are all useful in their places,
and if you will watch them carefully, and
study their history, you will find much pleas
ure in the study, and will learn to respect
even those that appear the most worthless or
How to Earn a Home
The other evening I came home with an
extra ten-dollar bill in my pocket—money
that I had earned by out-of-doors work. The
fact is, I'm a clerk in a down-town store, at a
salary of $6OO per annum, and a pretty wife
and a baby to support out of it.
I suppose this income will sound amazingly
small to your two and three thousand dollar
office-holders, but nevertheless we contrive to
live very comfortably upon it. We live on
one floor of an unpretending little house, for
which we way $l5O per annum, and Kitty,
my wife, you'll understand—does all her own
work; so that We lay up a neat little sum ev
ery year. I've got a balance of two or three
hundred dollars at the savings' bank, the
hoard of several years, and it is astonishing
how rich I feel ! Why Rothschild himself
isn't a circumstance to me!
Well, I came home with my extra bill, and
showed it triumphantly to Kitty, who of course
was delighted with my industry and thrift.
`Now, my love," said I, "dust add this to
our account at the hank, and with interest at
the end of the year"
Forthwith Icommenced casting interest and
calculating in my brain. Kitty was silent,
and rocked the cradle musingly with her
" I've been thinking, Harry," she said, af
ter a moment's pause, " that since you've got
this extra money we might afford to buy a
new rug. This is getting dreadful shaby, my
dear, you must see."
I looked dolefully at the rug ; it was worn
and shabby enough, that was a fact.
" I can get a beautiful new velvet pattern
for seven dollars," resumed my wife.
"Velvet—seven dollars !" groaned I.
" Well then, a common tufted rug like this
would only cost three," said my cautious bet
ter half, who, seeing she couldn't carry her
first ambitious point, wisely withdrew her
"That's more sensible,," paid I. " Well,
we'll see about it."
" And there's another thing I want," con
tinued my wife, putting her hand coaxingly
on my shaulder, " and it's not at all extrava
" What is it ?" I asked, softening rapidly.
" I saw such a lovely silk dress pattern on
Canal street, this morning, and I can got it
for six dallars—only six dollars, Harry ! It's
the cheapest thing I ever saw."
" But haven't you got a very pretty green
silk dress ?"
" That old thing ! Why, Harry, I've worn
it ever since we've been married."
" Is it solid, or ragged ?"
" No, of course not T but who wants to wear
the same green dress forever ? Everybody
knows it is the only silk I have."
" Well, what then !"
" That's just a man's question," pouted
Kitty. " And I suppose you have not ob
served how old-fashioned my bonnet is get
" Why, I thought it looked very neat and
tasteful since you put on that black velvet
" Of course you men have no taste in such
We were silent for a moment; I'm afraid
we both felt a little cross and out of humor
with one another. In fact, on my journey
home, I had entertained serious thoughts of
exchanging my old silver watch for a more
modern time-piece of gold, and had mentally
appropriated the $lO to furthering that pur
pose. Savings' bank reflections had come la
As we sat before our fire, each wrapped in
thought, our neighbor, Mr. Wilmot knocked
at the door. lle was employed at the same
store as myself, and his wife was an old fam
"I want you to congratulate me," he said,
taking a seat. " I have purchased that little
cottage out on Bloomington road to-day."
" What! that beautiful little wooden cot
tage with the piazza and laWn, and fruit gar
den behind ?" exclaimed Kitty, almost envi
"Is it posible ?" I cried. A little cottage
home of my own, just like that I had often
admired on the Bloomingdale road, had al
ways been the crowning ambition of my life
—a distant and almost hopeless point, but no
less earnestly desired.
" Why, Wilmot," said I, " how did this
happen ? You've only been in business eight
or ten years longer than I, at a salary but a
trifle larger than mine, yet I could as soon
buy up the mint as purchase a cottage like
"Well, said my neighbor," "we have all
been working to this end for years. My wife
has darned, patched, mended and saved—we
have lived on plain fare, and done with the
cheapest things. But the magic charm of the
whole affair was that we laid aside every pen
ny that was not needed by actual positive
want. Yes, I have seen my wife lay up red
coppers, one by one."
" Well, you are a lucky fellow," said I with
" Times are hard, you know, just now; the
owner was not what you call an economical
man, and he was glad to sell, even at a mod
erate price. So you see that even 'hard
times' have helped me."
When our neighbor was gone, Kitty and I
looked meaningly at one another.
" Harry," said she, " the rug isn't so bad
after all, and my green silk will do for a year
longer, with care."
" And a silver watch- is quite as good for
Editor and Proprietor.
all practical purposes as a gold repeater,"
said I. "We will set aside all imaginary
" The ten-dollai bill thust go to the bdnk,J;
said Kitty, "and I'll economist) the coppers;
just as Mrs. Wilmot did. 0, how happy she
will be among the roses in that cottage gar:
den next spring!'
Our merry tea-kettle sung us a chddrful lit:
tle song over the glowingfire that night, and.
the burden was "Economy and it home of
your own, amid the roses and the coUntrY
Living Within One's Means
How can the "times" be made easier ?—:
How can the intense " hardness" be taken
out of them? There is one sovereign re'me'dy
—as a general thing it is a cure-all. It id
this. Let every one live within his or her
means. Cut off your luxuries. If your in:
come is four or five hundred dollars, confirm
yourself to your circumstances. Don't let.
your manner of living be as expensive as if
your income was one thousand dollars.—;
Let your rents, your dress, your food,
your pleasures, be curtailed. There is nd
honesty in living beyond your means. If it
costs you $lOOO to live, when your means,
are only MOO, the excess is sponged out of
those who give you credit. There is no poli
cy in thus living beyond your means. For
your credit will soon be exhausted, and you`
will then have a " hard road to travel."
But extravagance in living is not the only
cause of " hard times." The abuse of the
credit system is another cause. Too many
are allured by it to desert the farm for the
store, and employments and business that
are already over-crowded. There are too
many consumers and not - enough producers
—too many go-betweens in business. There
is too great a rush from the country to the
large city,—too great a desire to gain a live
lihood by any other process than that entailed'
upon us by the primeval curse—" the sweat
of the brow."
Power of the Soul over the Body.
The biographer of Dr. Kane asked that
eminent American traveller, after his return'
from his late Artic exploration, "for the best
proved instance that he knew of the soul's .
power over the body; an instance that might
push the hard-baked philosophy of material
ism to the consciousness of its own idiocy."
He paused a moment, and then said, with a:
pring, " The soul can lift the body out of
its boots, sir. When our captain was dying
—I say dying, for I have seen scurvy enough
to know—every old scar on his body was a
running ulcer. If conscience festers under
its wounds correspondingly, hell is not hard .,
to understand. I never saw a case so bad.
that either lived or died. Men die of it usu
ally long before they are so ill as he was.—
There was trouble aboard—there might be
mutiny. So soon as the breath was out of
his body we might be at each other's throats.
I felt that he owed even the repose of dying.
to the service. I went down to his bunk,•
and shouted in his ear, Mutiny, captain ;
mutiny l' He shook off the cadaveric stupor.
Set me up,' he said, and order these fel 7 -
lows before me.' He heard the complaint,
ordered punishment, and from that hour con
valesced. Keep that man awake with dan
ger, and he wouldn't die of anything until
his duty was done."—Knickerbocker.
A Cute Yankee.
A correspondent of one of the Boston pa
pers, tells the following good story:
"Early one morning, the scholors of one of
our district schools were agreeably surprised
to find written upon the outside door, "No'
Scale ;" and the most of them immediately
made preparation to enjoy the holliday—not
dreaming but that it was a genuine order. It
appeared, however, that a roguish youth, a
lover of mischief more than his books, had
written ih large letters the joyful news. No'
Scule, was the notice posted up ; the idea we'
undertsood, but the spelling was bad. The
after noon brought all together, hnd in the'
stern visage of the master enough was seen to'
convince us that all was not right—he had.
been outwitted, and now came the tug of
"He soon ordered the boys to appear be-:
fore his presence, and one by one, criticized
our spelling, as far as the word school was
concerned. They stood the test until the he
ro, with his comic phi; made his appear;
ance, who with confidence distinctly said .
S-C-14e school." The master took him by
the collar, and with a joyful expression at
the success of his ruse, laid on the birch•
THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATEI.—The New .
Orleans Crescent of the 19th ult., records the'
following melancholy case of sudden death :
Laura Williams, young and beautiful, but
frail, was found dead in her bed on Saturday
night, in the House of Eliza Holley. She
came from Baltimore about eighteen months
ago, and was quite a belle among the wo- -
men of her kind. Latterly she sought in al- -
cohol the comfort which so often Wade' to'
death ; and for a week prior to her . death,
she had indulged to an unusual extent: . Late'
on Saturday night she went to her roonr,, ,
there being nothing the matter with her to
any apparent extent, beyond that of a` Slight
intoxication. Shortly afterwards, one' of the
women went to her and found her dead: It
was believed that she had taken poiSdh.--::
The diceased was twenty-three years of age:
and a native of Baltimore. Among her ef
fects was an old leghorn bonnet and a tihrSe;
which she had cherished as remembrances of
her mother, and the women in the horse;
with that feeling which never deserts woman
even in her lowest state, asked the Coroner
that these relics of her former innocence
might be burried with her ; a request which'
was of course complied with.
A MARRIAGE AS IS A M.vittruoi.-There
were married at Durham, Canada, on the 30th
of January, an elderly gentleman and lady;
involving the following connection
The old gentleman is married to his a:der- -
tees husband's mother in-law, and his &nigh':
ter's husband's wife's mother. And yet she
is not his daughter's mother, but she is' his
grand-children's grandmother, and his wife's
grand-children are his daughter's step chil
dren. Consequently, the old lady is United
in the bonds of matrimony and conk ugal affec
tion to his daugter's brother-in-law's . father
in-law, and hor great grand children's grand
mother's stepfather, so that her son-in-law
may say to his children : Your grandmoth-:
er is married to my father-in-laW, and yet he
is not your grand-father, but he is your grand
mother's son-in-law's wife's - Mother. This
gentleman married his son-in-law's father-7
in-law's wife, and he is - bound 6'Stipporf and
protect her for life. Eiis wife is his own son.'
in-law's sister-in-law's grandchildren's great
re' If we are willing, G - od'*ilt help us ;
if sincere, God will accept US.