fcf
Anurifan wf Uoluntht.
'Wife
\BRATTON.
I
ii
PL. 37.
|||teal.
•?<;■“*•«*» cam* -
: tu'.:'-$f h jtftvtae jfonlUUe beggar girl,
v--.Vh ' -BcwiOW she thlngies in tho crowd,
&<>• I- , i '. t/ia rich and proud,
(&£■ • ~ j; • •Aod.beg.aloDg tho street. .
*;■■■- ..ui
r-. ' air, a penny eivo to rao,
1 1 ”JfMjßffopenny give,” cries uho,
..t”-AK“tet roe hurry homo,*
••' v. my mother sick In bed,
;. r.£:»£ air, for want.of broad—
' ■ d ponny-como.
Oilr, In silken drcaa,
•‘C(T r pity mjrdiatresa,
m y parent dear— ,
*'mile ones haa aho to feed,
:: f : { r.hj l Sty A nfcaho |a poor and weak Indeed,
. r «#f norio to did and cheer.’?
• maiden, rich and ftlr,
u;v<Wft" ?a*hi»g robes and Jewels rare,
■ AtObtftotpr 'a pittance give;'
♦ our wants supply—
/ >^ ;i T|TllfhiA»h tho children's starring cry,
i . yAhd let my tnoibor Ilvo.'*
1 j* treat she begging up and down
<• •• 11 swarming streets of that great town,
wantssuppiied—
i 'i f. >*» "baa did the pray, beseech, implore,
■ , ~’\AV death went in her dwelling door—
her molherdlcd.
tn ott, •-*■. T .•
*,;< Sth* /O IhflfV.yc ftivored rich andgreal,
'■ ■ ' Who move along In pomp and state,
■>'" ♦s'" 51 ' * Believe the need/poor;
\ ‘Xj/j'i.-ri : Na*Bt:lei the widow droop and die,
v 7 /for orphan ones for hunger cry,
v ,v. *•- iw>y .'.While bounteous is your store.
From the Boaton Poat.
■ ° ul ' DN ’ T-wop i' D
woolen*! give much for a girl with a bonnet .
c&tt fifty dollar* when Aral 11 waa new:
;A^j|KWiM > ' , apb r ta & large muff with a hairy tail on it,
hang* down in front of it Juat a* it grew.
dq’l give much for this lomalc—
f.' Would You? -
U«J r' -
t:i 'J WoaMnH give much for a woman who prance*,.
. .Promenading oil the thoroughfare* through;
.Giviog tliank* to the cfcrfca, or clae amorous gtancci/
• ‘- ,l _'lSU4ugh to turn her ©yea alt aakew.
’ t give much for ilila female—
i-;-. f i. • Would You?
* n £ afterwards sent in by a lady
YOU 1
much for a chan who it,"
Till bp’*.fuii every ceent of his legacy through,
■■■, VPbftM f|auwflng Chin has a huge goatee on it,
'• '*T|UPb*m^vlown upon it Juat aa It grow.
I fur this fellow—
nuch for a diKp with a collar
*' Tn»y»ttfcJeto stand up, almost over bis ear*.
Vw wWU« WBlie kid gloves that cost over a dollar.
tbfct belongs to some knight ol tho shears.
X wgßkJttyitro much for this lollow—
■tLdi'.fiJif i* t rv"V .»•
Ififcellimeotiflf.
'» r r ■;> !t',v
5 - The .1
pqP/ctorial Dnwlng Room Companion.'
[Wchanl’s Saturday Sight.
> »T MRS. E. O. LOVBBINO.
.*Vk«jk tetisahat we moot with people, who do not,
v WMW^DWBa re, sympathize with the poor. They
.OTOdbMywty contemplate (ho wretchedness of any
qetug; tales of distress must touch their
'compassion. But too many, 1 fear,
fe o nder9 l and and wa>mly commend the
I may so speak, think
the application of that theory tothu
an * B of life. This error is not so much
ofsolfishness or hardness of heart, as of
such as business cares of life too
foster In the most humane bosoms.—
■Tfa.fcilrf.iiTO 1 am about to write illustrates my
. l OperOpJd Salurday evening in the month of Jan*
of appeared in the midst of his family,
with kindness and contentment.
/ of week was overhand be was
*i ..rest* The stern brow of every-day
holered that cheerful home, on a Sa-
Kempton, in dressing-gown;
' not Mr. Kempton in the hablti-
9f tnejoountlng-room, nor did he, like cer
tain, merchants I could name, look upon bis chiU
4rtn*s karoany.day-books and ledgers.
•'.'Mr. KerhpldDsal down, then, in his comfortable
Mttfilgtrdoih, with a group of cheerful faces about
-hlqi, l f Theyooogest—u boy of twoyears—ho took
tf¥w‘h|* llnee, Jfh’lle he questioned Maria, a fair
touching her progress in those inlrl
cilehranpheabr primary education, geography and
’gntmtdar ? !. l}he merchant had a kind word for hie
\\ire, loo,aDd a playful sally for Aunt Edith, and
abook,iuU,pf pictures for Jane, who was just be*
Mr, Kempton really possessed
hearts In the world.
lODOcknswa man, residing in Albany, who
«Ue4iaa little lor h(a family that, on one occasion,
the second of-hls three children was absent from
•bums aweek before he discovered that she took
net bcraccustbmed place at table, nor her seat by
(htttiraßldei Unlike this worthy member of sooia*
tjr, Mr, ; -Kempton, immedialoly on entering the
t)tUß'z«r|wt4« remarked tho absence of his eldest
is Christopher V* ho asked, glancing
- hajit gono to tho library for a book, 1 ’ replied
cried tho morcltant, his eyes spark*
jiM Wlili pleasure, for he loved that son. “I am
nrfia more of books than of rude com
; jMny*AtjfqjMnis boon out of school only since New
> titirsls for reading already.”
Ml ft»i4»edi:wpd Mr. Kompton had taken up the
/ttM «WBh«T'of-lho Family Magazine. There was
tb*door, .
Chrlelopher,’’said Mr. Kemp
ought to havo a latch-key. Do you
trust him with one!” he added
oirfaU Wife.
.'vmight;trust him with anything,” replied
toVfood niolhei I ,' At that moment, a domestic en
tered whh the Information, that, instead of Chris-
at the door.
>, ••Vyho isho, and what does ho wanl?”d6mand
:*>H*#|fwnthat wants to speak with you a min-
sir,” was tho reply,
come lu.”
iufjfefr . Beo you in the entry, sir. It’s
pay 0 .”
-; h'MtilWStefi’a brow darkened. Ho hated a
thought nfadstncaa after bueinoss hours were over;
Saturday night was he always
>dlslb(dllfMftr,tha transactions of trade* Ho arose,
however, without a word, and wont out, to send
theunwwpmvaitilcor away.
‘ ; *AhtWdlU*agt^,^r° u Bbly-olad, able-bodied man,
who had (he'aftMifcranco of an industrious laborer,
~tdokolf hie har, and bowed respectfully to Mr.
Kempton* *r.
•♦BoTcd*’ exclaimed Mr. Kemplon, much ear
tpriswl.- 1 »•'
<•1 beg your pardon, sir,” began the laborer,
•Wfctlirvtrudlrigi but it'e a matter of necessity.” t
interrupted Mr. Kempton, l * whit
i™t ,rio y* y° u pl° a ßOi” replied Mr.
TpMMrohant looked displeased.
v-lj]
“What do you cbme iome,fotl” he demanded
severely.* • “Ourforeman pays the‘men; Why
didn’t yon g 4 to himV* . , i; ,V j
-••l,was aenl off with some goods, sir, ’ replied
the laborer, in an humble lone, “and.beforelcould
get back, the store was closed, and the foreman
gone. ‘ 1 have been Working for. you only a week,"
added the man, “and it’s such a small matter that
•1 hatfed to come to you; but, sir, 3 ’ in a trembling
.voice, “I have a large family, and if 1 don’t have
toy wages at the end of every week, we have but
Utile to comfort ourselves with of a Sunday.”
“That’s not my affair,” exclaimed Mr..Komp
ton with impatience. “1 intend that all my meh
should have their pay on Saturday night; if they'
don’t get it, lam not to blame. 1 oan’t have poo.
pfe running to ray house with tbeso matters. You
must wait until Monday, Mr. Boyce, and X warn
you to be more careful in future.” *.
The man bowed stiffly, and went away without
a word. Aa soon as thedoorolosedonMr. Boyce,
the merchant passed his hand quickly across bis
brow.
. “I.might have given the fellow six or eight dol
lars, as well as not,” thought he, “and perhaps he
really needs it. • He looked earnest and honest.—
But it is well l didn’t, after all. It won’t do to
encourage such proceedings. He will be more
careful next time.
. The,cloud passed from the merchant’s brow, and
the poor. laborer was forgotten, as Mr. Kempton
entered his aitling-roora again, smiling kindly up*
on’hia family, '
Christopher had not arrived. Some time after*
wards* when Aunt Edith had retired with the chil
dren* Mrs. Kempton expressed her concern for his
absence, •
ought to be back by this time,”
observed the .merchant, 1 . . . '
At last; quick, light, merry footsteps wereheard
in the street; and then, the door bell rung again,
and Mr. Kem'pioh knew his son had arrived;
■ A rosy-cheeked-boy of fifteen, flushed with ex
oUement, entered the.room with his coal buttoned
closely under his-chin, and his .throat muffled by a
tippet. He looked handsome, as he stood there,
erect'before his admiring parents, his dark eye
beaming with'generous pride aud kindly'enthu
siasm. > i ;
u O % I’ye had such an adventure!” he exclaimed.
«m telljou about it, as soon as 1 can. catch, my
breath.” . . .. ‘ V
u Gq to the fire, child,”'said Mrs. Kempton,
♦‘you must be cold,”
“Coldt •> 1 haven’t thought of that,” replied
Christopher,, unbuttoning his coat, and taking a
small volume out of hia bosom. . '
Would You ?
“Well, what about your ad venlurel” asked Mr.
.Kempton, , :;
“dYlpu.reraember'the money you gave me for the
Blelgh‘ride''nexlTueBdayl”
“Yes, child/* '
Would Yout
“lluve spent it,’’.cried Christopher, laughing.
“Very .well; 1 told you you could do what you
liked with it,” replied.'Mr. Kempton; interested.
"So you thought, you should like something else
better than a sleigh ridel” -
didn’t cate much for the ride,” said the boy,
thoughtfully, U 1 shall be jusl as weil off if I don’t
go 1 suppose- .Hat i’ll tell you‘how I used'the
money/*,,; • ‘ ~ v.-si.-.-.
. “tJil'down', my,aon,andwe r wifilicar your,ad
venture/* remarked, the merchant* ~f /=
" Accordingly Christopher sat down ,and‘ related
hie story. 1 : ‘ .
“1 satv a poor follow In the street, 1 ’ he began,
“and heard complaimnglo;ariolher man abouthis
hard luck. “I have-not a morsel of meatfor my
whole family, tomorrow,” sald.ho,and lyvassure
he spoke in earnceu . “Il’atoo bad, 1 ' said the other
one, “for an industViou?, hard-working man like
you/ 1 ! thought it Was too bad; 100, Tf the poor
fellow,had spoken the truth. Then I remembered
that I had five dollars, which wouldn’tdb mtmuch
good, if l;went riding, but which might mako a
whole family happy/*, • .
Thu merchanr and his wife exchanged glances
full of pride and affcctidn. Proud, indeed, were
they, at that moment, of that beloved son I
‘•So you gave the poor man your money**’ ob-'
served,-.Mr. Keinptoo»ifn a half-reproving, half*
Indulgent tone. ‘-It was very kind and noble in 1
you, Christopher, but you should
you give, for the world is full of impostori,”
“I know it, father. Dul 1 didn’t think it right
that this poor man should be left to suffer because
another man was an impostor; sol though; I would
find out. the truth of the case, and then give him
ioy money*.if he was not an imposier.”
•*YoU were right, fny son,” said Mr, Keropton,
approvingly.
AS he epuUe, a o)oud darkened the merohani’e
brow. ; Perhaps he remembered the poor man
whom ho had-sent away with a reproof, half an
hour before.
"Dul what do you think I d!dl”’cried Kit, "i’ll
tell you. 1 followed him—l watched him till he
had got home.”. ;
"There’s prudence for you!” exclaimed. Mr.
Kempton to his wife, aside*
"What a noble boyl’Vraurmered the fond mo
ther. •
She could scarcely see her son at that moment,
through the tears which dimmed her eyes. .
, "You followed the man home?” said the merch
ant.
"Yes, he lives in an old house down in Purchase
street/ I was a little frightened at first* to find
myself alone in such a dismal place; but I .was
sure there was no harm in going there, so- I foil
bold again.”
"Dio you go int”
"Yob. Two or three families live In the house,
and the door wasn’t shat* so I walked in for all
the world au if 1 was a rent-collooior or a police
man. Then I was In a fix.”
“Don’t use slang words,child,” said Mr. Kemp*
ton. , , .
4i A perplexing predicament,” added the boy
gravely. “I didn't know tho man's name, nor
what part of the house he lived'in. But'asT haw
people going up and downstairs, I thought I could
so upend comedown again, aa well as any body,
I round, though, that I had counted rny cnlcbens
'—prematurely. The passages were 1 dork; and 1
stumbled on the first flight. That Was a lucky
stumble, in the end; for a door opened at tho lop
of the stairs, and a wmpap oamo out with a lamp .
But 1 had got upon my feet, and eo she went back
Into tho room again, leaving tho ,door open about
so much,” said Christopher, measuring off a piece
ofhla hand. “It was to light the passage forme,
I suppose. But I didn’t go up any
Causo wbyl”
“Slang phrases, Christopher?”
“Shaill expound my motions?” pursued the boy,
smiling at tho amendment. “1 saw my man
doubled up over a miserable little black stove; Ho
had three or four children around him, and they
ail looked hungry and cold. 1 was going to march
right In and stick ray ‘V’ la his fist*—l moan place
in hia hand my half oagto in paper currency,”
“Thai’s bollerl"
“Out then, thinks I to myself, .supposing tbb
man fools insulted, and kicks mo down stairs?—
Besides,! was sure 1 should feel so awkward,
stepping op to him, and saying, ‘Hero, my good
fellow, Is.a check for you—l mean, something to
purchase edibles wliM 1 and 1 foil that I could not
dp it. While I was hesitating, 1 hoard tho woman
ask him ifhecould get no money, and say she had
nothing to last the family over Sunday. “I am
sorry," said ho, “but I can’t holp it; rtewlll hwe
CARLISLE, PA-, THURSDAY, JUNE 5, 1851.'
c' \
to get aTong with crusts until Monday.”. And
then he looked sad, and the youngest children’be*
gan to cry. 1 was still hesitating, when a young
chap came up the stairs, and I asked him, “Who
lives in that room!” “Poor Joe Boyce," said he.
“Boybe!” exclaimed Mr. Kempion, starting.
“Joo Boyce,” replied Christopher/
“Go bn! go on!” •
“Upon that, I stumped down the stairs again,”
pursued the boy, ;
“Without giving the poor man your moneyl”
cried. Mrs. Kempton. ' ;
“Yes—! had on idea, mother. Sba if it was
not a good'one. I ran to Jones’s as fast asl could
go, and there 1 bought a goose and a turkey, and
the biggest piece of beef Jones would let me have
for (Ay money. I remembered the number of: the
house in Purchase street; and 1 gave it to Jones’s
man,-When I paid for the fodder—l should say
provisions, and.said, ‘>Up one'flight—firsl door to
your left* and don’t stnmblo as 1 did, and (ell Mr.
Boyce these came from Mr. Kempton,-and don’t
answer any questions.”
“My. noble boy!” .exclaimed Mrs. Kempton,
oatching Christopher in her arms;
“Why did you say they oame.irom mel” asked
the melchanl, with a severe brow.
.. “Forgive file, father—but 1 was sure you would
not be displeased,-whenyou knew all,” replied
the boy,
Mr. Kempton perceived by his son’s mannbr,
that a portion of his story yet remained unloWU—
Christopher -had not fully explained his motives
for acting ib the manner he hadV, Suspecting that
the affair was connected in some .Way with the in;
considerate manner In which the boot laborer had
been turned from his door on that 'evening, \he
merchant felt interested to know more. ‘ .
“You have kept back something, my son,” said
ho. “I forgive you for using my name, if yod
will confess the whole affair. It is not.noble to
keepanything back.”.
' Thus urged, Kit continued:
“To be frank,” said he, hi was coming home,
and .had got to the corner eiit here, when 1 saw. Mr.
Boyce come out of our house, and meet a man,
who appeared to have been waiting for him out*
side. As they passed me, I heard them talking,
as 1 told you at first. But, Mr, Boyce said, “Mr.
Kempton is a good man for aught,! know,arid one
who k doeS as he agrees; but he is a hard and un
feeling man for allihat.” And when I hear per
sons say such things of you, dear'father,” contin
ued Christopher, “1 always-want to; show them
how wrongly they judge you. 'This is why,l, fol
lowed him. I was eure.il was want that.made
him speak so of you, and I thought you Would
have relieved him if you had known how much ho
needed only a few-dollars. So I said the provi
sions -came from you; for it. is true that ho owes
them to your kindness.”
'“Howabl” 1
“Did you not give me the' money to uael” asked
Christopher. •
“Yes, my dear boy,” replied Mr. Kempton.—
“But when I hsd given U to you, it was yours.—
I am glad that you sent Mr. Boyce the provisions,
but you should not have told him they came from
me. 1 will see him bn Monday and cotrccl the,
error. . I admire, your/eelinga and iiioiives:pvs.boy
—and herd’ls another ‘V.’ as you call it, for the
sleigh-ride onTucaday.” V*!*' '
“O, thaqk '
Mr. Kempton-walked to and. fro, in a.thought
ful mood, for some minutes* then his brow cleared
again, and he smiled on Christopher, who was
beginning to fear that his father-was displeased.
“My son,” said he, in a lone foil* of kindness
and affection, “ you have taught mo a lesson, to
night.” , > t '•
“Yes/ChrietophcT, Mr. Boyce is’‘pne of* my
workmen. He was not paid at thecounting-room,
this.cvening, as he should have been, and be came
to me for money,’ which I refused him, merely be
cause 1 didn’t like to be troubled with business
after business hours. I did nof consider, that 1
was acting uncharitably; and the lesson you -have
taught me, is, this:, always to pause and consider
the importance pf a poor.man’s claims, and the
worthiness of tho individual, before turning him*
coldly away.” 1 . ,
We. may hope Ibatjtlr.. Kempton never forgot
that lesson, and that Christopher, encouroged'lo
do good by such parents, will not Buffer his warm
and generous heart to be chilled by the contact of
the world.
' Ladies, you caged bird* of beautiful plumage, but
■icjdy looks j you pale pete of the parlor, vegetating
in an unhealthy elude with a greenish, white com
plexion, like.,that of ,a potato aproot in a dark, col.
*sr—why don’t you go out in tho open air end warm
eunehino, and add Jueiro toyoiit eyes, bloom to your
cheeks, elasticity.to your steps,and vigor to .your
frames?, Toko early morning exorcise—Jet loose
your corset strings, and run up hill on a wager and
down again for fun. Roam in tho fields, climb (he
fences, leap (he ditches, wade the brook, 3 kpd'go
home with an excellent appetite. Liberty thus ex
orcised and enjoyed will render you hojllny, bloom
ing and beautiful—as lovely as tho grace* and 'pro
lific asDeverra. Tho buxom, bright-oydd, full WaeU
od, bouncing lose—who can darn a stocking, mend
trousers, make her own frocki, command a regiment
of pots and kettles, feed the pigs, milk the cows, tod
be a lady ,withal in company—is just the sort of
girl for, mo or any other worthy young man to mar
ry; but you, yo pining, lolling, screwed up wasp
waisted, doll droned, putty faced, consumption mort
gaged, music murdering, novel devouring daughters
of fashion and idleness—you aro nu more fit for
matrimony than a pullotls to look after a family of
fourteen chickens. Tho truth is, my dear girls, you
want, generally appaking, more liberty and lose
fashionable restraint—more kitchen and Ices parlor
—more exorcise and leas aofa—more pudding and
leaa piano—more frankness and less mock modesty
—more corned beef and leas corsets—more breakfast
and lees bishop. Loosen yourselves a little; enjoy
more liberty and lose restraint by fashion. Breathe
the pure atmosphere of freedom, and become -some
thing nesrly an lovely, and ;at : beautiful as the God
of nature designed.
Mr. Rcca, a wolf known street predoher In one of
the eastern cilice, waa accosted by a would.bo w«g
the other day* and questioned o> follows^
“Do yon believe whal the Bible says about tho
prodigal pon end tho fatted calf?”
“Certainly I do."
“ Well, can you toll mo whether tho calf that was
killed 'was a male 'or female calf?’*
,“,Yea t It waa a female calf.”
“ How do you know that ?”.
“ Because,” said Rocs, looking tho chap In the
Ace, “ I ifeu the male is alive now.”
A drunken; north countryman, returning, fVont a
fair, foil asleep by (ho roadside, ivhero a pi; found
him and began licking his mouth. Sawney roared
out, ** WhoVkissin' mo noo? Yo ace Whal it la to
ho woll Ukot among tbe losses 1”
A Hit,'— ln .olden times tho mooting hoUßoe
were filled vHth two one for each bo*.-**
A minister at Newbury was interrupted one Sun
day In his sermon by loud talking. He stopped
short in his.dUcohrae, and remarked that he wish
ed that the talking would cease In the gallery, di
recting his eye at the aamo time to the woman’s
Side, whereupon a venerable spinelor arose and
said it was net In their gallery, but on the man’s
•Idb.. “I’m glad of it; then,’’ replied thn parson,
“for it will bo likely then to stop thaeponar-” .
‘ODR dobNTRT—MAY I T ALWAYS BK RIGHT—BDTE lallT OR WRONO , ODR COUNTRY 1 ’
To the Girls*
DT DOW, JR.
... CHURCH SCANDAL* .
That tall young fellow’s here to-day!
1 wonder whal’a bis name!
His eyes are fixed upon our pew—
■Do look at Sally Dane;.
Who.ls (hat lady dressed :in green }
>lt can’t be Mrs. Leach! •
There’s Mr. Jones with. Deacon Giles—
*l worideHf he’ll preach 1 '
Lend ifio your fan; it is so warm,
We both will sit at prayers;
Mourning becomes (he widow Ames—
How Mary’s bonnet.flares.
Do look at Nanoy Sloper’a veilj
Its full a breadth too wide;
I.wonder if Susannah Ayres •
. Appears to day a bride!
Lord!-what a voice Jane Rice has got!
.. Oh !-how„ that organ roars!/,
I’m glad .we’ve left the singere’ seats—
HoW- hard Miss Johnson snores.
WliaVpgly shawls are those in front ?
; Did you observe! Ann Wild I ;
Her new bonnet (rimmed with.black! .
I guees she’s lost a child!. •
I’oi half asleep—that Mr. Jones!
, His sermons are so long:
-This afternoon we’ll slay at home,
Aqd practice, that new song.
CHAUiVGTKn.
. What life TS to the.body, or health'to the limbs—
the telescope to (ho astronomer, or Iho oblsol (o ihjj
BCutplor, that character’ is to an individual. -We
might as well expect to bis able to fill: a bottomloal
nlyai tmhope that, without a good oharaotcr, wo can
be respected or esteemed. There is an innate prln.
ciple in mstfrptacod there by the finger of his Crea
tor, whicti obliges him, however degraded and fallen
ho. may bo in the scale of moral existence, to Abhor
that which U base and grovelling, and lightly, to os’,
teem, and even to despise those whoso characters are
debased.' Could wo read tha heart of man, this law
of our nature would bo still moro evident; for why
do we see that uneasy and fretful look overcast (he
countenance of him who is ibout (o'commit noetic
thing, contrary’ to the rcqulromcnlu of a virtuous
life? No doubt hia.own better self is rising within
him aud'chiding, perhaps cursing his folly; yet
bound by the unyielding shackles oflnvolerslo hab
it, ho as well attempt to silonoo Iho upbraid*
logs of his aggravated conscience, as.lo desist from
perpetrating his dark designs. Character, is the
only genuine passport to credit und esteem;. Rogues
and knaves, like iho wolf in iho fkblo, by assuming
•a Delicious .exterior, may succeed foe a time in! do*
coiving tho unwary and unsuspecting—yet their
debased appetites and propensities wilt soon remove
the roa.sk, ohd by disclosing them In their proper
colors, will*,expose them to the odium they deserve.
The valop cf a spotless character can haver bo too
highly c£tHija(cd.> It forms iho only solid basis of
happihdas.hpro pt hereafter, Possessed of it, our
passage life-will bo happy and fortunate,
unruiSed by Iho calumny of (ho inviduous slanderer;
wa can drew the sweet waters of consolation from
the Uhotiedgo of bhr'own innocence; 'without it
U(*eiitela hsapmea » .harder, and. each auceosslvo
monytuijXjyuLaxistenoo adds another to our misery;
ouf pasTlifu wftl bo nko on empty cistofn, emitting
no ofjcoHng ray (u brighten (ho gloomy prospects
of Iho portentous future.
- The fovo of character demands our consideration
—ls an ennobling principle of our nature—disclaim
ing, all connection with pride, it proposes to tlovato
us beyond the ranks of surrounding creation. \Vo
examine it fp alt its aspects; wo sift it to its utmost,
and arc able ' to discover nothing that lessens the
nature of man—but wo can see how beautifully It
harmonizes‘.with the spirit of onr holy religion.
The Grecian felt and owned its purity and Itssancli
ly—lhc Roman'bowed Ih-Bolemn adoration at its
shrine, and sacrificed upon its altars friends,, rela
tions, and even, life itself. Tha tragical death of
Lucrclia, andltho Kill moro modrnful end of Virgin
ia, beggar au comment, exhibiting, in tho most
powerful light,’ tho utter insufficiency of even the
(ondcrcal tier of nature to dampen or extinguish
that, indomitable iovo of moral purity which over
characterized; that queen of nations. For It her
poets sung, Hor philosophers toiled, her heroes bled.
'Twos this (hat lent an additional sweetness to ths
honored narrift of Father, Brother, Friend.
(alcd and modelled their intercourse with each other,
counselled and advised in tho Senate chamber, arid
swayed its powers In dictating terms of surrender
to the vanquished foe, “Love of character was the
Eiglo on -which Rome rose to glory.* 1 Nor 'are
other nations wanting in, their estimation ofCharao
ter. It is (ho boast of our own much iovod country
—hor pride-in prosperity, hor refuge in adversity;
and united with a well regulated liberty, it becomes
(he foundation of her political perpetuity.
Mrs. Partinotom’ii Last.— “ Cease, rude Bolus,
blustering roller,” said . Mrs. Partington, as she
leached out into tho storm to seouro a refractory
shutter, and tho wind rushed la and extinguished
her light and slammed the.door to,end fanned tho
tiro in tho grate,, and rustled tho calico flounces
upon (ho quilt, and peeped into the closet and under
the bed, and contemptuously shook ’Mre. t Parting*
ton’s night jacket as it hung airing ort a chair by
tho Are, aqd flirted hqr cap border, op she looked out
upon (ho night. U was a saucy gust. “How it
blows 1" said sho, as she abut down t,lio window ; “1
hope heaved will keep tho poor sailors safe, Whb go
down on tho tea in vessels; and the poor—God bless
’em—the poor indignant creatures (bat have none
of the comforts of lifo. as wo have, poor creatures
who aro forced to live in one room,and have a. bed
in the very place where they > sleep—how 1 hope
they may bo comfortable (hip blustering night.—
Tint must bo tho' noxious elprm,'' continued she,
“where tho sun crosses tho Penobscot.* 1 She donned
her specke, and sat down to consult Dudley Leavitt
about the fact, and sho found who was right; while
tho wind howled around tho house most dismally.
Education “ Down East.”— 'Tho following adver*
tiaomenl in tho Bangor Jeffersonian,.apoaka well for
eddyeation ,in “Holoton,** a (own down on the bor-1
dcr of Maine, celebrated as (horesidence of a dls
i\ngb\»hcd pollylkloghn oh (wo;
NoHeeffi—Teacher achate in
UoJoloo bein oul or a p/ocoptor (Iho last haven ben
dcschargcd for warnt ov inconipollvonoss,) No wun
node appll without (ha hav (ho follorin qwaUifferha
shuno, 100 whit:—Tha muss not bo agin tho modor
eight uco of fiber dealers Naw we don’t warnt no.
boddl witch belongs to noo chnrcho, aoein aa how
(hat wood progerdia (bo minds ov iho didder: and
jponn upp hoar dont bhjotfo noc slloh.thyngs, ho
Must produce aattlsfooturro ovidonso that ho is
against allAnnytlo aberllsliornast witch hov oflUn
dostrold and dissolved owor gloras union. Ryten
must bo tort at other hyar brsnchii,
Pose skrlpl—lt is oekspeotod that the leooher
will git his iioilh onshborod, in audor that there ma
bee noo intcrropsliun ov (ho skule.
Holoton, March 19, 1851,
" Well, Sambo, how do you like your now place?”
“Ob, burry well, maasa.” “ What did you have for
breakfast this morning?” “Why ynU aeo . minis
bllod free eggs for horeotf, and gib mo de brof.”
ScoTOtfßD.—An examining committee about to
(oat (be capacities of an Individual for teaching, put
the following questions i ''
“At wbat period did France produce her greatest
general?”
“At what period?” pausing and Scratching hia
head, “at whal—ah J you've got me 1 there aura,”
“Well, was U before or after Christ?"
“Before, or after Christ f*«befdre or
old horses, you’re got ms again, coitolnr*
THE EDITOR—By One,
The editor is the dupe of destiny. Hie lot.was
knocked down 16 hlcn a bargain, arid It turns out to
bo a take In. His land or promise Is a mountain
•luffed with thorns. . His laurel wreath is a garland
of nettles. : His-h'onora resolve themselves Into a cap.
ilal hoax, his pleasures are beaky j)enallios, bis pride
la the snuff of a handle, his power but volumes of
smoke. Tho editor istho most ill-starred man alive.
Ao, and he alone, a thousand pretouders about town
notwithstanding, is Indeed the identical martyr,
commonly talked of as tho most ili-used individual.
Ho seems to govern opinion, and is, in reality, a via.
Urn to'tlio opinion of others. Hu incurs more than
nine-tenths of the risk and responsibility, and reaps
less than one-lonth of tho reward and reputation.—
The defects of his work aro liberally assigned to him,
the merits are magnanimously itopuled to his cor*
respondents. If a bad article appears, tho editor is
unsparingly condemned; If a brilliant article bo in
serted, anonymous carries off tho oulogium; The
•editorial function is supposed to consist In substitu
tions of u if it.be,” for tt is, and the insertion of the
word however, here and there, to impede the march
of fine' style.' Commas and colons aro tho only
! marks be.is reputed to make—his niche of famo is 1
merely, a parenthesis—ho is but a hole of admiration
to genius—bis lifo is spent in ushering clover pdVfilo
into deserved celebrity—ho sits as charioteer, outside;
the vehicle In which prodigious talents are driven (o J
immortality, if is his fortune to insert all his con-1
tribuilons In the temple of glory, and to exclude him-1
self fur want of apace. Ho always hopes to go in,
btU expires, unblessed al laat. Ha bestows present
present popularity on thousands without securing
-posthpmbus ronpwn as his own share. His career
ib this life is a tale of mystery to bo continued in
pur. next.” Ho is only thought of when things go
wrong Jn the journal. Curiosity then looks out the
Corncr‘of i(s eyes, and with brows and lips parsed
up,querulously 'ejaculates "who Is ho?” If by
chaocci praise instead of censure should be modita.
ted,'thp wrong man is immediately mentioned.-
People ace only certain of (heir editor when they aro
going to.bowhjde him. - Is thero & bright passage or
two in an indifferent article, you may bo sure (hat
they oro not indebted for chat polish to (ho editorial
pen.' Is .there a dull.phrsse or harsh period in sbtuo
favorite contribution 7 Ob! (ho editor has, altered
; i(» or neglected to revise the proof! But if the’edi
tor is-abused for what ho inserts, ho Is twice abused
for what he neglects. It is a curious feature in his
dcstioy.'tNt if he strikes out bat a single line of an
; article, whether iu poetry or prose, that very lino Is
infallibly the crowning boaptyoftho production.—lt
is not ai little odd that when he declines & paper, that
paper ia'suro.'lo be far-the best thing (ho author
ever Wrote? Accepted articles may be bad—(ejected
ones are,invariably gpod. It is admitted that judg- 1
menl ia llio first essential for an editorship, and ills
at the sahio time Insisted an, Chat judgment Is exact
ly-the'quallty which tho editor has not. An author
is praised in a review, ho is grateful loan individual
writer, whoso name ho has industriously inquired
for—an author is condemned in a review, ho is un
speakably disgusted with (he editor. Week after
week, month after month, tho said editor succors (he
oppressed, raises up the weak, applauds virtue, exalts
talent; ho pons or promulgates the prsise of friends,
of their books, pictures, acting, safely lamps and
steam paddles, but from thp .catalogue of golden
names his own is an eternal absentee.
llqw to.behave at Fired*
Tho moment you hear alarm v scream like a
I pair of panthers. Run way except Iho right
way*—for tile farthcatwoy aroundla'the'nearael way
to Iho fire. lf;your happen to .run on, lop. of a wood
pile, so much the better,you. oaft lb#rr.got a jjood
view of tha neighborhood.. If a llfhi bfeeks.'out on
your vicVv, break for it immediate]^—but bo aure
you don't jump into a low window. Keep yelling all
the time: and If you can't make night hideous
enough yourself, kick oil the dogs you coma across,
and set them yelling loo—''twill help amazingly.—
A brace of cats dragged up stairs by (ho tall would
be a “powerful atixilliary.” If you attempt (his
however, youbad better koep/aneyo elate ward.—
When you roach the scene of tho fire, do all you can
to convert it into a scene of destruction. Tear down
ail the fences in the vicinity. If it bo a chimney on
fire, throw saU down it, or if you cant do that throw
Veil on a rot’s (ail, aftd make him run up, the effect
will bo about the same. If both bo found impracti
cable, a few. buckets of water judiciously applied,
wilt answer almost ai well. Perhaps the best plan
would <bo to jerk off the pump hondle and pound
down (he chimney.: Don't forgot to yell all tho
while, «a it will fiavo a prodigious effect in fright
ening off the fire. You might swear a little, 100, if
you can do it scientifically. If you belong to (ho
” Eagle,” d—n.the “ Hope,” if (o tbo ** Hope,” d— n
tho “Eagle,” andif to neither, don’t bo partial and
d—n both. The loader the bettor of course; and
the more ladies iu the vicinity tho greater the neces
sity for “doing it up brown.” Should the roof begin
to smoke, got to. work in good earnest, and make any
man “ smoke”- that interrupts you. If It is summer ,
and (here are fVuit trees in the lot, cal them down to i
prevent the fire roasting tho apples. . Don't forget to >
yell. Should the stable bo threatened, carry out (he j
cow-chains. mind (be horse—he'll be alive ,
and kicking, and if his legs don't do (heir duty, lot |
him pay for Ihb roast. Ditto as to the hogs—let ,
them skve their own bacon or smoko for It. When
tho roof begins to burn, gel the orow bar end pry
sway the stone step, or If the stops be of wood, pro
ouro ansxo an Chop them up. Next cut awoy tho
wash boards in the basement-itory, and ifthat don’t
■top tbe flames, let the chair boarke on the flrsi floor
■hero a similar fate; Should the devouring element
still pursue the even lentfrof Us way, you had belter
ascend to the second-story. Fitch out the pitchers
and tumble out tho tumblers. Yell all tbs time.
If you And a baby abed, fling it into the second
story window of tho house across the way, but let
tho kitten carefully down in the work basket. Then
draw out the bureau drawers and empty their con
tents out of the back rtlftdoW, telling sume body to
ups&l the slop barrel and rain water hogshead at the
same time. Of course you will attend tothe mirror.
Tho turihor it can be thrown (ho more pieces can bo
made. If any body objects smith it over bis head.
1 Do not, under any olroomslanoo, droo (ho longs down
from tho second story—the fall might break Its logs,
and render (he poor thing ■ cripple for life—set it
•(raddle of yoar shoulders, and carry It down care
fully. Pile the bed clothes on the floor end show the
spectators that you can “ beat the bugs’* at knocking
a bedstead apart ond chopping up tho pieces.
By the time you have attended to ell (hose things,
the lire will certainly bo arrested, or the building
' burnt down. In either case your services will be no
longer needed r and of course you need no further <
direction.
A Oku Fnou an Old Book, —lt hat been do
quently and truly said, tlrs( If Christianity were
compelled to floe from (he mansions of the groat,
the academies of philosophers, the hallofleglaUlora,
or the throngi of busy men, we should fiocTher last
retreat with woman at the fireside, Her last audi
ence Would tor the 'children gathering around the
knees of a mother—lha last sacrifice, the prayer,
escaping in silence from her lips, and hoard, per
hape, only at (ho throne of God ?
Secrecy has been well termed (he abul of all groat
designs ; perhaps more has been effected by conceal
ing our own Intention!, than by discovering those of
our enemy, But greet men succeed In both.
A Lesion in Asituiutio. —Toschor—suppose 1
Were to shoot at a tree with fiva birds on It, and kill
three, how many would there be loft?
John—Three, sir.
T—Nof two would bo left, you’ Ignoramus.
J—No (hern wouldn’t! (he three ehoi would be
left and the other (wo would bejifuui awy,
J ,Some Eastern girl le out In the newspapers, re*
odntmending that etch State Id the UdUn tend thelv
bdlleof beauty to thd WOrM’r Fair InLotideV, a*
•fdclulbne of Afltertotn wonjßiH
AT t 20 1) P E A tflf ij ft; J
XHE *‘FIRE IN THB ltß A'tt
or, DIU Jouei omoag ttie Glrli*
Old Squire Parish woe ah hbspifablo pjd kbiit— (
Every Friday evening it was (bo delight of
of the academy, and tho boys of (ho school* and col*
lege, to go out to old £quiro Pariah's farm; about
1 six miles from town, and stroll In tbs wdbd»,'bVflft
I Ip the creek, search the orchard and tho ban nestt,
land turn every thing about tho promises upside
| down. And old Squire Pariah would sit In htk’etifm*
I noy corner, pipe in month; and tell them stories aboni
the first .settlement of the country, and hpw,," 014
Hickory*/ whipped tho Indians—for the old BqpUie
bad boon In Jackson's army—and cover let the boys
off without at least ono story about the old Than, at
(he Sqoiro delighted to call tho General. ...
Qnp Saturday, sboert tho middle of tho tftofndort,'
Bill Jones—a wild, h'arumsoaram younjf fellohvbf
some sixteen winters—rodo up to the Sqdlrets doit
and hailed tho house. His summons was ansvtared
by that Mack young rascal, Josh, who (old Jones
that the boys were gone squirrel hunting; “but’yVd
belter believe, Msssa Bill," continued* Josh, M lhil
tbo gals is carrying on high. Why, Madia Dill, you
can hear 'em squealing clean up here.’* . . ,
Jones soon learned that tho girl* had gotte jta (belf;
Usual bJthing place, which was at (ho foot oft high'
precipice, and only approached on that side by la dob
itary foot-paib, which was guarded by Dinah. On
the other side of (ho crcok lay a broad sand bank, so
that nono could approach it without being seen.—
/Jones had bean to tho Squire's house so ofttntftrf
he knew all his stories by heart, and It was alrnoi^
I Impossible to find tbo boys in tbo woods, Soho dot
tormined to Imvo some fun out of (hc.girls. : /
About a quarter of a mile up tho crock livedJQjid
Aunt Judy, and (hero Janes and bis atlcridant, Josh,
immediately proceeded. While Josh went lu the
old woman, and for a fo'pcnco purchased thelartfeal
gourd in hot possession, Jones slipped bohlud thd
garden and throw off his clothes, than cutting off
enough of the handle end of the gourd to admjt hie
head, and making two holes for his eyes, he slipped
it on his head and jumped Into tbo stream. Sdiddrf
as the gourd reached the point above the - baU)fo£ .
place, ll commenced Hosting towards the shots until
within a few yards of tho bathers, when it drilled
j against a limb which overhung the stream, and
1 cd. If Jones had looked through (ho loop holes; ((16
swears ho didn't) he would have seen a; sight Uul
would have made tho gourd itself blush.
On one rock were three or four swimmers, a|lf»r*
nalely squatting down and rising up on tholr heels;
and imitating tbo cry of the bullfrog, and when odd
would say “ chug V* they would all plunge into thf
water, frog fashion. At another plaoo they wer«i
striving to duck each other, while a third party wajf
leading by force into the wotor, a coy damsel, who*
had bean too modest to undress before so many folkfti
Bui Jones* gourd did not long remain ntfnoljced W
tho water, and tho damsel who espied It, sailed ,up
to It, seized It, and with alight resistance It came on*,
and disclosed the curly head of Bill Jonpn! : ,M)ss
Betty screamed and BUI Jones yelled I Miss Betty
and the other bathers rushed up tho bank, and Johed •
in his fright anti confusion, followed tharrt. Herd
tbo girls turned oh him, tolled him, and* threw .him
on his face, twino<T his arms around a sapling, ant/
having bound his hands with a .'kerchief, Jones lay
defenceless in tho power of his captors. ,
Tito girls now leisurely dressed thonltelvcS, knd
then ouch provided herself with a trim bUchorWll.
low rod, and without further ceremony, began applyi
Ing (hem to the back, aides, antj ’legs of poor Jones.
Jones twisted; and Jones writhed *, ho drew hirhieljf
op and sprtJpd : he begged and* pray ddi
But -/n Hi* Saptoea Wc?o. fnnmslbfdMoptyj •
arma.wero/stlgtied’flDd (heirrods frayed
lotp.riHoiis; , . , •
1 Alas for’podr Jones!' be wad not yet to eicspe.—i
His’tormentors provided themselves with froth Ini
slrumcnts, and stationed themselves in a row alontf
(ho foot path from Jones* (rco (o tho water's edge;
and, on the rock from which ho Was to plungb, was
posted a stout country lass whose' strength he had
often tried in a wrestle, and whoso cndoraiico bd
had often tested in a rt brondaned." At last he wad
released, and told that ho was to run the gusnllol.—*
Ho could not but comply. Straightening himself
up, end drawing a long breath, ho started at full
speed, as he thought but at every step, something
i touched him that accelerated his motion, and aa he
was about to take tho last; final leap, such ft blow
fell upon hta rear, that the sparks flew oiit of his
eyes, and he bounded half across the stream at ono
leap. This rock has been known as Jones* leap ever
klnco.
Without stopping (o boo any more of bid falf
friends, Jones hastened to aunt Judy *• cottage, dreiiri
ed fu’maolf, gave Josh a thorough kicking, borrowed
a sheepskin from aunt Judy, mounted hia hpraa and
rode *lo wlv back into (awn f And from (hat day (d
this, Dill Jones has never shown hie face, nbf t tad
other part of him, in good old Squire Parish’* bduie)
nor the stream that run* by its door.
A Soldier—many yean ago—was sentenced (of
deserting, to have his ear cut off 1 . After undergoing
tho brutal ordeal, bo Was reported out of ibedborl
yard to the tune of the. rogue 1 * march, He* than
turned, and in mock dignity thus addressed tho nutf
sioiane: “Gentlemen,! thank you! but I have net
further need 6f your services, ftr I bave no ear.foc
music." . : . . . ,
Paul. Pry Puizlrd. —Tho following colloquy.took
dace lately, In an Eeglldb town, between an inquis*
live gentleman and hia butcher boy—" What ‘lire
your political" said the gentleman. "The QooeiPei
air." “What ate the Quean's?” "Molna.slr.'V*
"What’s your name?" "My name," replied the
boy; "is the aamo as father’s." " And wjial la hU
name?" said the gentleman. "It Is the came id
molnc." "Then what atb both your names?”—
“ Why, they aro both alike," said the boy. The
gentleman turned on Ills heel, and the boy shouted;
" Any thing more; sir 7"
The following toast, if it is hot cltiisicrf; rmty
be called caustic. It was given by one of ibai
Boston Marshals, at the plantation of Mr/Potieii
the owner of the reclaimed .fugitive Sims; eudre
fleets credit upon tho wit and (he will of the au
thor: . ’
Tuc North and the South!— May the lints of
the chain (hat binds their Union, be stronger their
ever—lhe?abolltionista pitched into h—l, and Bun*
kor Hill Monument rolled against the gate.
A Now Hampshire farmer,going (a a par lib moot*
Ing, met lII* minister, and told him that hii; society
(bought of increasing hie aslary. "1 beg ofybil
not to think of any auoh thing/* tali) the mlnlater*
"for it ia about aa muoli business to collect my pred*
enl aalary aa 1 wish to attend tot If It sbould bo
Increased, I •hotrld bo obliged (a devote my whom
time to eolleoting It.'*
“My ion,” oatd Mr. Smith to hit boy, who wear
devouring an egg—lt was Smith's desire tb iniliaot
lit* boy—“mv aon,do you know (hat Qhloheul oqme
out ofegga T" . . _ , ,
“Ah,- dtf thcy father/* aald young hopeful] l
thought that eggs come out ofohlckena V* ,»
The elder Smith drew back from the table* aadly
gated upon hU acfc, and then took hla hat and went
to hla work. “
A school mistress aaked a child what #.r-*#pelf
The child hesitated— ** What do 1 do when 1 loop at
you?” aald the mistress. “ Thqulnl," ronned IUo
popll. •. <?c :*
. With lore, (ho heart booomea a fair and fertile
garden, with aumblne and warm hue*, and exhaling
aweet odor a; but without It, it la a Meek deian w
ored with oshoa. • .... .. f , . v
, What pnlbanbftrfness it is (o/prgat ourcooaqla
tlona, and to Wok upon irietibre of grWianokno
think ad much of two br three croaio* aat#f&TMt
a hundred Wcaaipga* . \
Lei’ bf tby (hooghlb bd(«rd«Qd (b}Wlr<
ratUdt (had the tfotld. . ■ , .£l.> 1
ibf-y
-0.-r»
NO, 52.