m i £ iiß JJ? JOHN B. BRATTON. I VOL. 38. W#fi t •»,' poetical. Tt r«.y u.: SONO. ■‘■•’“Sl.V v ' , Aliveme tho drink which naturedistils ■ *•• . i Deep }n tlio hcart of tlio motmlaln, x j ; uWhleli gushes forth hi sparkling rills, ,- w . .U' s Its never failing fountain; • • . . ... --Sphere's health In tho draught when freely .quanta, •'V °> iSnll 4t frees tho heart from anguish; 1 f.* t'i'-f Atiidit'cu'ols the hrain, asautmner rain. »v jOpils tho earth and flowers that languish. i. Uow swonl to the ear the sound It makes, 1 SiQver’tlio precipice rushing! ■• v ••• aontiy thrmish meadow hrakes, -o. i'll APrafeup from the groan award gushing; . tK along It hears a song to tho ghinous Giver, gave to the earth of priceless worth, . ,’ ‘ r fountain, and rill, and river. : I When cleaves to the mouth the porched tongue, , When fovor within is rngingl r/fiynrds havu not told, nor poets sung 1 • How sweet is the draught, how assuaging; 'i' ■ e'l- 'tfheit fancy teems, with glorious dreams ■i- ‘ . • Of waters In deserts welling— '. . Or green moss that cling to rocky springs, ■ ; .i, 'And of rills to rivers swelling I i . Then gi*o me the drink which nature distils, 1 ' -Been tn the hooit oftho mountain, . ■'.jf t'.’r Which Rushes forth in sparkling rills, - r From its never lalllng fountain, f VTfftoi-/ Away with the bo«j. which brings to Ilia soul i Jt Out shame, and rnsgracu ami madness I n '* P* vo mo the draught, when freely quaffed, r>> Thai blesses the heait with gladness. HAPPV DATS. BY CHARLES UaCKCY. jack—come back-thou youthful lime ( i Jny and Innocence were our*,' . l(o was in Its vernal prime, redolent ofaweutaaml flower*. . iack! and let ns ruAm onco more, •hearted through life'* pleasant ways, liber garlands ns of yoro, 1 back-come back—ye happy days! mck—come back—'lwas pleasant then herish faith In Love ami Truth; tiling in dispraise of men sour'd tiie lumper oi our youth's iackl -ami let us still believe gorgeous dream romance displays, ml the tain that men deceive, back—come back—ye happy (lays I jack, oh freshness of (he past I n every fttco siMimcil fair ajul kind, sunward every oyo woe seal, nil the shadows fail behind ; ’rack I 'twill come: true hearts can turn r own Decembers into Mays I ;rci ho it ours to learn, come—they come—those happy days 1 ■ii' ■ : to** l latwmw. froStf CHILD ON THE PRAIRIE. 11111 l £ Ami a little grave they made her, V ‘lioclmrch-yar.l cold they laltlhor— ' ho* 1 «'>fuy down to rent, • a vvliito rose on Jjprbteait— i • r Poor little Neill" ' .* Mas. Nicnou, BV MARY mviNQ, \ jOinhft’osly morning in November found us jour. I,t?g t 9*ar the prairie. ll wus past the hour of the .'A' ;.j n, y£W' l * lul, Bh the sullen luminary had nol do. Ihl corner veil to give ‘sSßßjM||£fr(lng peep. Tjip'cqid sweep of twenty iniltft lo llm.»oqibyuTd' t Qumo m*. e»r»s;}T{ Wei rt g vtl trb ug f»" ef e ry*j»dro_ oC muffling*, 'and. ,fihulJyNileo; uyyuy. in: •skiriipg our western t aS*»nj , .f Mb* *%bVta dft' ‘npb n the ocean shbrd; The roads jiudbeeii'' g thrown into rlMos by “ the cqujuoxl.il 1 * and Itslnirr | .‘ .Blonnef so thol wo hud been dragging | in rough, the day at a most unsatisfactory rale of | |r«Vel,'and were far enough from our anticipated ha. 6 .ton, 7 y •* Dear !is (hero not a house on (Ills cvcrlasl. 4ng’prairie 7” spoke, at lasi, one of the company, in lonoihalf Binoiliered by (ippel and buffalo robe. ■!, ‘'Plenty of log cabins in the woods yo dur,” re turned ttie one addressed, “ Would you like lo make «em is there not a public house, a tavern of ind, where u liall'.lrozuiriraVeller might find law his fingers by ?** «—we shall oomo to - *a Corners directly. .there la the house, away beyond that swell g-ttwo story—d’ye see 7" is (ho village, cli7 n w/v "i say it wus a village! It is a point ■} Where four? foods meet, nml cluoisey enough Toads | • they are;too;to bo sure!" ■ _ J,’ As wo drew near lo (ho house, a curiously huddled - i together combination of logs, mortar and whitewash, ' * more from convenience (Inm elegance, we took no. % lice of'tin upright polo in front of which once, ’} -evidently, held up a grateful invitation to gners by. '■! -But .now It only creaked must taiilulizingly and ~ inhospitably-In the wind. - “TheyVe.iSkrn down the sign, you see— oata are l’ soliloquized nur driver, recun* . i noiterlngv , 1 * But never mind—l calculate wo can *j findaocommodation.* 1 | AApr;'*;, moment's parley with an old mnn in a \\ brimlets white hat, who sauntered through (he door* • way.at'buMpproach, and nodded assent, with un air of dignified,nopehulonco, to our eager inquiries,-we f were Tilled (Vomour carringo, gl.id enough (o unbend ' • our stiffened sih(isclcs by ttio blueing firo llial had I toeokohoaiie'tnfough (he window-pmee, , r A soon smoking before us, fit for a ,V; hungry. U«Veller«—a bruco of prairie chickens, fresh I frpm, Ink feqoetand nooks where they swarm at that - .’|-f -gupon, fcprntsbid with minor dishes of onions, saui. - ' Jiges end ‘‘eodr-kraut,” llio favorite dish of tho tier .l daughters of tho old host had sprond the |tPQ«rd, 'before us; und after their tusk was finished, I ytttjofrd Jhst both went at once to tho window, laid VWplr'neias each against a pane, and peered anxiously ?*»Tiiey?»ron't coming, bo they 7" Inquired the knocking the ashes from his pipe irv \ j Mi, It's high limo they wore bock. There's ill tho cnws lo milk and fodder yet, and then—" ' i f The nosr tramping of hoofs cut off iho girl's'son. /rt#nce,«nd {n a few minutes a couple of young men their shaggy overcoats and shaggier aooki, end drew up to tho blazing logs, to unsllflbn T tiholr benumbed fingers. I ' •" What'eibo nows?" * j ! Anything found, Royal?" inquired the sisters, tesgofJy proofing to hia side, while the father throat Iho corner of hia mouth unllglilod, In to catoh the answer. 10 1'* replied Ro_y«l slinking his bonded ally, so that hia long, black hair Toll r hia oyca, that wore fixed on the glim* ' never*ll come to light alive!” exclaim* Blurting up to face üb, in front of the isnda clasped behind his back. ’ " Nov. I on the prairie this biller cold night I fh enough to kill a clever coon, much of a little girl like her!" '#!” responded the slater, feelingly, r'hiloP* * afio’a boon out q'duors, and f . “T’. 0 .‘ h ' r N Blel ' l J w ' ,n ' 1 0,1111 > illo this.. She won't / <«Uod It joef may depend on that.” 1 do ?’h oul •» " ,l ," r.m.rkcd 111. * d ° "* no now pink morning glory, tho dor. Jlng!” interrupted one of the daughter*. 11* Party enoua h to ’tlce some of (hn child iteafers straggles about! I’d lay my little finger she's £rnrenongn away by this day ?" Whose child Is lost ?" we ventured to put la at a ofa moment, i Nel,y Warin ®» oia’am—child to John ■■ -fe'-l:'* -Waring, that lives over three Imilcs yonder, on tho prairie. .You see,'Miss— ' ’ ' But I will give llio short slory In my own words, with additions and .emendations that I aftorwirda gleaned, from others. :* John Waring hod come from. New England to “the weal," with his father’s family, to win a sub sislenoo from a more generous land-(ban tho.homo of. hills and valleys. The parents remained in the part where they landed ;.but John, with 'the helpful, ready wilted und ready handed “wife of his youth,” resolved to improve (ho templing facilities, for farm* Ing. So lie purchased a lot on our prairie, built him a snug “ nest,” and took home his dove to cheer it. • They, were fur from any neighbors, but that mut tered little to them. : Each was u little world to the other—and very huppy, as well .us very prospotptft, were they in their flower girt retirement. Towards the closed- the third year, John hud laid by,enough la build what a thoroughgoing farmer ranks for. bo* fore a house in importance—u good, capacious barn. Very spacious It was, with dns, stalls and lofts in abundance, where ono might, indeed, 44 lay up-much goods for many, .years.” Ond coiild. not blamo lls framer, for the thrill of satisfaction (hat warmed h)s heart, when (ho last rafter and clapboard Were nailed, and tho-complete building, in its newlcost of red paint, blushed in the bluzu of sunset. His busy, cheerful helpmate, with hands lucked up under apron, came out by tils side to minglo congratulations with his delight, • And she came not alone; a wee blos som, Toiror than ever prairie in Its wildness bore, had budded hi her arms two years before. % Little Ellen Waring was a child of most uncom mon beauty. Her eyes had caught their tinge from llio violets that open to the eye of Spring, in tho edge of the woods—her check's were changing os the soil clouds of a July noon, half fleecy, half roseate, Cush* ioned languidly on the light,blue pky. Her baby forehead seemed, purely radiuhl with tho-smile of her guardian angel, half shadowed by curls of ming led! chestnut and gold j bul a smile, all tier own, twinkling'in her eyes, and dimpling in her. checks, linked her to earth, and. to at! hearts so lovingly 1— Every one. marked the child, at first glance, as a pearl of exceeding price. Cynics may sneer at it os (hey will—beautiful it the “ open sesame” to the universal human heort — and there is no beauty so sweetly winning—so (ike a dew drop purely fresh from Heaven, glowing in Us glory yet, os the beauty of e lilllo child ! When the was carried to tho oily, tho home of her grntid.pnrcnts, her tottering stops were often arrested in the streets by strangers,-who pressed forward to exclaim Involuntarily, “ what a beautiful child!”— ”An angel!” “JSho’s not for.earth, tong, sure!” This last foreboding seemed to grow into a presen timent in the mind of the grandfather. In.vain did the eyes 01. little Ellen look into his, mocking uII Ms fears.' In vain did ho sco that she was springing no ns. healthy end hardy ns a wild rose or a prairie chicken ; he pressed buck her curls always onxldtisly and looked Intently into her face, often pressing her in his rough srms, as though ho feared that some unseen hand .would snatch her away, even then. “ Little .pet 1 take carp of. her! don’t let anything come to her, John!” wd§ his last parting charge, ns ho .kissed her on both rosy cheeks, and lifted her carefully into the wsgnn after her parents. 41 Never you fear, father ; ynn’ll see how «ho shall spring up in the pruirio grass!” “ Well,-well. God knows {"-replied thegrandfather, drawing his. left sleeve actoai his eyes. “ Good bye, and God bless you all !'* ' Two evenings previous to the one of our stay at ihe log tnVorn, John Waring went out to his barn,- lo secure his cattle for Ibo night, and,.go.lhrqugh lliaj indeßprrbriVln routine of nomprisiDi uniti'r’ (Its eonvenionl nn rrtS'On. ratlin res.’ 1 Little Ellen.’plfnded logo Willi him, ‘‘Sbe-diaß been tmijding cub ensile**before - Iho henrlh HU a peony iflusli l bloomed on one hoi little cheek; and then, tired of her play, she inid been toddling nrnnnd in (he wake"of hpr busy mamma’s footsteps, clinging rest. Icssly Id her dress. " Slay by pnpit, Ellie, pet I** said the,mother, ns she lied the llitle blue {mod under her chin, and pinned a warm, while blanket over the bare dimpling stionl dors. “ l.lln go with papa !” laughed the little fairy, dancing gleefully under her ninlher’s hands. "Come, Ellie. 11 culled papa, reaching-out his -hand, ns he fastened (he last button of his working truck. She sprung to him, and swung her little self out of (he dour by his strong lore finger. The barn was Juki across (lie rood t tram the house. Skipping, tip the platform, Oirongh the unfolding leaves of the great barn door, she clapped her bahy hands lo the scamp, cring chickens, shouting lo the echoes, climbed up lo peep through'the tails at tlte “red calf* and scrambled down In terror of-the cow's nervously shaking her horns. At Inst she (rotted demurely, in pursiiil of hen’s nests, tossing and tumby ling on (ho nbw-mndo.hay, wiirbling like a.merry turn swallow nil the white. The father was in anil out, hero and there, occupied with his varying bus!. ness. The sun went down, and the shadows of the long, dimly-lighlcd ratters began to deepen and blacken. With half a sigh of weariness, the little onu rolled off lha soft huy mow. "Como in liniiso, papa, Ellin tired," ahe besought, looking up, coaxingly into Ilia face. "Is Ellie tired? Elite may go to mamma, then Hu stooped to kiss her cheek, swung hack the door, opened Iho gale, and saw her Inddlu through it, and turned again to his.unfinished work. ' Half un hour pissed, and ho walked, whistling carelessly, towards (he house, the duties and toils of the day all over. His wife turned hastily toward him mb he set down the brimming milk.piiil upon Hie well scoured plno table. ** What have you dune, with Elite? Il’e late for her to bo out." *• Ellon I why t sent her in half an hour ago I" ho exclaimed, startled.' "You sent her in! She has not been boro! I have not seen her!" returned tho mother—and. fiing. ing open tho.donr, she called, quickly, " Ellen I" . Tho sound rang shrill over the prairie, and echoed loudly and lingeringly from the blank walls of the barn—but no Ellen's voice gave answer. The mother clasped her hands, and u quiver of ogony trembled on hnr compressed )l]fc. " Don't be frightened, Mary—she's strayed a bit down (ho path, ll'e likely S I’ll bring her In a minute or two." John Waring sprang nvor the stops as ho apnko, and rushed out of her sight, around the corner of the born. “ Gliie, Ellis, my pet! Elite, dear I" ho called and oaltpd again, and he listened for on answer until his ears ached and his brain reeled with the utter silli ness. Then he plunged Idto Iho long, wild .prairie grass, trampling down (he'purplo and golden flowers like weeds. "Whore Is she? Where ie the 7", brenlhod tho mother, with a sunpresaed shriek, so her husband burst open (ho door again, In the gathering night. " Mary.” ho uttered, in a lone of ogony, “slip la not to be found ( Give mo the bridle, quick 1 I must go for help before it grows 100 into? Oh, God! there Is no moon to night t Mary, dear Mary," he added, catching one look of her anguish froxen face, Vwo shall find her yet! God will keep her—don’t lose heart!" • Elliot'Elite! my child I" . Sho‘ liAloned. The echo muttered back her call confusedly, and died away in silence. 11 Elllo, darling,'come to mamma 1” she called, more gently, as though Touring to have frightened bar Tnilo ono by'the former wild cry, but ullwas unheeded.' ’ She look two wavering, steps from the door; then tho sudden crackling of (ho Bre log culled her back, and aroused her. to n second thought. : “ No,'l must hot'go oui!”'alio exclaimed throwing herself down upon the hearth,-“ I could nol trace tho dour cronturo where ho has Tulledf und I must even wait! “ Oh, God! give mb patience and strength ?” That prayer was never raised in vain. Mary Waring grow calmer os she sat, with her head buried in'her apron*, moveless ns a statue, save thectmvul sive quivering of her lips and chest. How many minutes that thus passed, she knew hot;.but a hand on the latch string startled her lo.hor feet In on in* slant. It.was thu wife of her nearest neighbor, who come in.wil'h'it cheeked blanket shawl folded round her head and shoulders, . •*.De«r mo Miss ’Warin'ain't youdreadful lone some like? Mr. Wsrin* cams thunderin’ up to bur steps, and I says to Humphrey, says I, there’s some body took sick on o sudden, and they have sent for mo! I hadn’t more than, rolled; the words off rny longue, afore John burst the door nail; and, says he, * Mr. Humphrey will you do a neighbor a kind turn 7 My child is astray on tho prairie!’ ’ Sorry cools we would ha* been, if we hadn't help a neighbor in thno o’, (rouble! Humphrey fetched up old Sorrel in a twinkle, while John drove ahead to Warner’s. Says I to Humphrey. It’s distrncled-liko Mary Warin’ will be, poor body, takln* over her baby j und it being all she had, and the beautlfulesl creature, too, that over—” • f Oh. don’t Mrs. Humphrey I” exclaimed Mary, breaking, for (he first lime, (he tangled string.of her well meaning visitor’s would bo consolations. : “There! well, I didn’i mean In rake up your feel in’s dear! but* olj is, Bays I to Humphrey, I’ll slip on my shawl in a jiffy, and trot across lo Mary's.— Siio oughl’nt to be alone tills while, and I’ll cheer her tip lo hoping a bit, may be.” Some less garrulous comforters would have been more congenial lo poor Mary; in her hour of silent sorrow. Dul slio was grateful for tho godd will that prompted her neighbor’s visit; and she knew lhul.lt is not always good to bo alone. So she strove to smite thankfully, and even lo converse with her chat lering'guest, though every sound grated bn her ner vous cars, (hat were aching to' catch the slightest echo of-a footfall without. . The. con Is crumbled luw on tho hearth', nnd Mary’s hnpo went down with (heir (fleam. Like (ho hum of a spinning wheel,'her companion’*'low, monoln nous (ono wns ringing in her cars; hut she look no nolo of her words, as sho pneed heavily across tho boards, or by a violent effort, forced herself to sit calmly a few moments in her rush.rooking ahnlr.— At intervals, a distant call startled both to tho door, and they Heard die namo of “ Ellen” swell and die over tho dry; Whispering grass, whilo dim lanterns, like shooting stars, glanced and swayed In tho dis. lance. Not until morning did one of (ho anxious scorchers enter (he house, and then ho brought,no tidings. That day, fifty men mounted on horseback, and as many an foot, trucked tho prairio up und down ; buck und faith, lor many miles. They pushed into tliu woods ih.tl skirted ono rdgo of the firm, leaving nolb stone or log ulitui ned, frightened every timid squirrel and pnrtridgo from' its nook, with the ono cry uf-*“iSncn'liltlo Ellen I" ' :s ■ • •' • and (he.next night- .Uoftjrtiwoeod,; VYWuh : w/ns the d-ty qno hundred and 'fitly .•hpriuinbn, (you would not hard supposed ihstlho thinly dotted pml. rio could have furnished llidf number, unless (hoy hud sprung up, like the armed men from .(ho sown dragon's teeth,) followed in the truces oftho others,— and, like them, dime buck at night wjth tho full con* vieliun that they hud nut left a bush.ndr a sod untried or untrodden. A mensago had al firs! boon tent, to the grandpa* renin—mid comhtg with nil possible speed, (hey or. rived «n •ho morning of third day, Tim poor lather of the lost Ellen, worn out with (haling, watching nnd agony, fell down in a swoon ul his mother's feet, it a lie rnsu to receive herl Mary was more calm; and limy fluid she 101 l (ha pang loss keenly. Woman like, sho hud learned lo hide tlio lliom that was piercing her heart, nnd lo smile white Ihnl hunrt wan bleeding. Thai the child must have been stolon, seemed now lo lie the opinion of every ,one. “Oh! I could boor to know thut she la dead, 11 were olinoGl the first words of John Wiiring, on re* covering from l>ls fainting Jit; “ but this uncertainty, thin suspense, it will kilt mo." Who could have stolen the child, snd with what motive, were questions not to be satisfactorily an . swvrcd., Perhaps sumo strollerj wlio. hud caught n sight oChcr sweet luce In the city—and thu parents' hearts thrilled will, new terror at the' thought— an old Indian, wandering oil, tn (ho neighborhood, who hud sometimes been provided with u supper on lllajx hearth, mid « bed in their barn; , , •a* An advertisement Was inserted in nil the papers of the region, describing the lost child, nnd offering n la rgu reward lo any person who would bring tidings of her. Still the search was kept up near homo, though almost hopelessly, The neighbors could not rid their minds of the impression that somoiraco, shred of her dress, some . little shoe or shoo (ruck, might yet lead lo (he dlsooyory of her body—llio spirit must long since havo.taken wjng, One morning, it,wus nearly a week after (ho little one hud 101 l her homo, one of those gleaners of u forlorn hope was pacing the prairie slowly, thinking of his nwn. beloved 'children, nnd of (ho anguish stricken parents in their loneliness, when his eye caught (ho sight nf a dark object, dimly scon through the waving meshes of the prairie sedge. Ho tOok ono bound forward—nnd the veil of mystery was rent from little Ellen I There she lay—cradled In a hollow hntwoon two hillocks nf the prairie, so narrow as to bo unobserved except in one direction, within ana short half mile of her homo ; there, while her friends, In tendorcsi tones, were calling her—trampling all around, and almost upon, her, sweet Ellon hud lulu, silent and cold, five freezing nights. The man for onn moment,stood transfixed by sur prlso and grief; and then, with t\ deep breathed groan, springing to the spot, ho lifted up the stone* like form of (he child,and looked Into her face. It was like a waxen statue In its pure beautiful while* ness. The angel of the frost, who had opened the goto of death (a her spirit, hid transfigured cheek and brow, when lie breathed Ills chill blast upon them. She had dreamed a.swool dream bnfuro she owokoin Paradise, for a smile was frozen on her still face, like the first flush of a sunbeam after a shnwer. Her eyes, like half opened violets blighted by the storms of nn early spring, lay weighed down with-ioy dew. She had fallen upon her face, proba* bly in her weariest hour, and the angels had looked down in pity—they had taken in (ho poor benighted little wanderer. The lips, when life had ebbed ‘away, were parted, us though. In a grmlo, sweet surprise, alto had heard the call— I “Little Ellen, come to Heaven I" Ho untied (ho lilllo blue hood, end period back the curie, heavy with hour froet end icicles. He lore away (he blanket, end foil whore (lie heart Imd throbbed, but life had frozen at its spring long be* foie, The touch of the round, hard arm chilled hie Inmost nerves—but he lifted it, for it grasped some* thinrf lightly in its palm* He unclenched the stif* fonod Anger*, and took ewny the treasure—purple end while flowers of (he prairies, wild asters and dairies; frozen, like herielf, In her dying grasp. Poor little th|ng, they told her story wo!) enough. Bhe had always loved flowers,'bud of Paradise that aho wait and when she had left her' father 1 * aide, they had beckoned her, waving their bright heads among (he tall grasses. Bhe loitered to pluck them —wandered on—growing weary, lay down to sleep —and awoke in Heoven. Suspense bad nerved the parents' hearts to on* rldro certainty. They looked on the shattered oos-' Perfectly,young man,” replied MissVerjuice; kot that hud enshrined their treasures, and bowed to " only, when my nephew married, I assumed all his iho, dispensation of Providence.. But when the debts, and am now rtady mytelf io pdy. your claim!" thought, of,that.first night—lho agonizing realize* " Fairly trapped, by Jupller!” exclaimed Scatter* tion that she had .been almost within hearingof the ly, in on ecstucy of delight. beating of their hearts carno over them, it broke tho “Stop—slop 1” cried .the unhappy gardener, re. seal of calmness, and the fountain of grief poured coiling from the withered luce, bearded lip, and forth its deep .bitterness unchecked. , shorp nose of the ancient spinster; “I relinquish The blighted blossom was bedewed with (ears of my claim—l’li write a receipt in lull.” many an honest eye that hud seldom opened its . 11 No sir,”,said Sciitlerly, "you pressed me fbr sluice of sympathy. Rough men, who hud almost payment (his moment—and you shall take yqur forgotten how to wo?p, in the hardness of their life’s pay. or I discharge you from my employ." : rugged path, looked into her coffin, and drew, their I "lam ready. l ” said the spinster, meekly, sleeves quickly actress, their brimming, eyelids.— ] Tom shuddered—crawled up to the old lady—shut .Warm-hearted Irish women touched the golden his eyes—mode up a hoiriblo .face, and kissed her curls, an cl ejaculated—"Thodarliht I Rest her soul while Mr. and Mrs. S. stood convulsed with laugh* with angels—uvdurheon!" ‘ iter. "Suffer little children to come onto me," said- Five minutes afterwards Tom entered the gar* tho Sivioqr, “ and ho hath taken her.” whispered dencr’s lodge, pale, weak and trembling, and sank one stooping to give Iho last kiss to the waxen lips, Into a chair. before they wore sealed up, till the morning of the "Give mo a glass of water, Phoebe!” ho gasped, resurrection,.' "Dear! what lias happened?”, asked the Utile Ellen was burled near her home. The snows rest lightly on hergravonnw; but in tho summertime the grata waves whfopcringly over her, and (ho dni alct tho died; to gather, dot her Jlltfo mound. - It was filling that shi', tho-fairest, purest, hoaveniicst flowerof all should eleep under (he flowers of Prof, rio do la FleurJ ; A KISS DN. DEMAND. Wo bollevo the following excellent story, original* (y appeared in the New York Spirit of the Times. If it did not, wo crudtl tho author, tho " Old Un,” fur it and servo it up for those of our renders who arc fond of the 11 Toast of reason and tho fiuw of the soul. 11 It was a very peculiar sound, something liko the popping of a champagne cork, something liko the report of a small pocket pistol, but exactly like nothing but itself, ' ll wua a kiss. A kiss implies two parties—unless U bo ono of those symbolical kisses produced by one pair of lips, und walled through tho air in token of affection or admiration. But this particular kiss was genuine. The parties In tho cusu were Mrs. Phoobu Mayflower, the newly married Wife of honest ’rum Mayflower, gardener to Mr. Augustus Scatlerfy, and. that young gentleman himself, Augustus was a good hearted, rattle brained spendthrift; who had employed the tvvo.br throe years which had clipsed since his mo* jorUy in making •• ducks and drakes" of tho pretty little fortune-fall him by his defunct sire. There was nothing very bad about him except Ids prodigal habits, nnd by these ho was the severest sufferer, Tom, his gdrdendr, had been married a few weeks, und'Gusl. whu had failed to'bo at tho wedding, and missed tho opportunity of **saluting Ihe bride," took it into.hia head that’ll was both proper ond polite that ho slniuld do so on tho first occasion of his meeting her subsequently to that interesting cere, many. Mrs. Mayflower, the other parly interested in the case, differed from him in opinion, and the young landlord kissed her in'spile of herself. But slid was not without o champion, for at tho precise moment when Soatlerly placed Ills audacious Up*, fa contact with the b Mom log cheek of Mrs. Mi,Tom entered thu garden and beheld the outrage. . 'vJkVhst are you doing, Mr. Seattcrly," ho rested? ‘•0, nothing, assorting my rlghlsj was only saluting th^brldo.” ".Against my vvlll|Tqrumy,’* sold the poor bride, blushing like a nn'U wiping tho offended clr«eK.wiili her checkered apron. -Ami ril mako for it, if litre’s law in sii'fij Sc.illerJy. ' * ‘ • M I dun’t ‘mean to," answered the gardener, rather dryly. 1 , " You’re not seriously offended at tho innocent liberty I look ?•" ■ Yea I be," said Tom. V Well, If you view it In that light," answered Scalturly, “ I shall fuel bound to make you repara, limu You shall havo a kiss from my bride when I’m married." “ Thai you will never bo." “I must confess," said Scottcrly, laughing, “ the prospect of repayment seems rather distant. But who knows what will happen. I may not die a bachelor after all. And if I marry—l repcat.it my dear fellow—you shall have n. kits from my wife." . “ No ho shan't," said Phoaho, " he shall kiss no. body but me." »• Yes ho shall," said Soalterly. " Have you’got pen, Ink end paper, v l’om ?" “Tube sure," answered Tom. " Hero they bo, all handy." , Scullurly sal down and wrote as follows ••Tine Willows, Aug. —i 18—. Value received 1 promise !» pay Thomas May* flower, or order, ono kiss on demand. Augustus Scatterlv. “There ynu havo a -legal document," said I ho. young man, as hb handed the paper.to the grinning .gardener, “ and now,goud folks, good bye." “ Miclakes will happen in the bast rbgulntcd fain, ilios," and it so.chanced that in the autumn of the. saute year, our bachelor mot nl the springs n charm* ing hello nf Baltimore, lo whom he lost his heart incontinently, din person and address were attrac tive, and though his prodigality hod'-lmpalred- his fortune, still a rich old maiden aunt, who doled nn him, Miss Persimmon Verjuice, promised lo do the handsome by litm on condition of his.marrying nnd settling quietly to (ho management of his estate. So, under these circumstances, ho proposed, was ac cepted,'and was married, and brought homo his beautiful young bride lo reside with Miss Verjuice at Ilia Willows. In the early days of (bo Imnoy.monn, one fine morning, when Mr. and Mrs.Scallorly and I ho maid, on aiint were talking together in 'tho garden, Tom Mayflower, dressed in his best, made his appearance, wearing u smile of most peculiar meaning. “Julia," said Augustus, carelessly to his young bride, “ this ia my gardener, coino to pay his re* specie to you—honest Tom Mayflower, a very wor. thy follow, I assure you." Mrs,. Soalterly nodded condescendingly to the gardener, ,whn gazed upon her with upon eyes of admiration. She spoke a few words lo him, inquired about his wife, his flowers, &c., and then turned away wUh>lhe aunt, as if lo terminate the inter view, * But Tom could not (nko his eyes off her, and he stood guxlng snd admiring,nnd every now snd then passing (ho,back nf hla hand across his lips. “ What do ymiihink of my choice, Tom?" asked Soalterly, confidentially, .Oh splendiferous!" said (ho gardener. '•Roses and (lilies in her checks—eh 7" said Scat, lorly. •• (lor lips are red os carnation, and her eyes as blue os larkspurs," sold (he gardener. “lam glad you like your new mistress; now go to work, Tom." ■■ <• 1 beg pardon, Mr.,Scatterly,but 1 called to see you on business." “Well-out with it." u Do you remember anything about saluting, the bride?" “I remember I paid the customary homage to Mrs. Mayflower." . “Wall, don’t you remember what you promised in case ofyour marriage 7” “No I" • Tom produced the promissory note with e grin of triumph. “ It's my turn now* Mr. Soallcrly," “ What do.you mean ?" “ I mean to kiss Mrs. .Soallerly." . “Go to the douce, you rascal!" “Ohl what is the matter?" exclaimed both the ladles, startled by So / Because then the clothing is more loose and lhe skin Is left more tree.. But when we He dowri lhe clothes are pressed against the skin much more than when we are up. , To hawDleep refreshings then, we should remove the external clothing as we would at night. The if we need sleep It will bo refreshing. But ss a general fact it must be acknowledged that it is the beet not to sleep at ell during the day; to keep active, and then early at night to rest. Then sleep will be worth the white. Indolent people have a pernicious way of doling in (he morning, taking a second hap. The habits. should be so active, and everything in our power so regulated, that we sleep soundly, and oh the first awakening, which,-with good dietetlo and other habita throughout, will be early, wo tbould rise. Do not wait in the vitiated air of your room to sleep more. Rise, wash, drink some cold wa ter, and if possible go Into the open air. It will sivo a good appetite a keen relish for the plainest food, vigor, health, and strength of body, and peacefulness and contentment of the mind. Try It idlers, regularly for three months, apd then lell us if we are nbt right. Try U ye students, literary men, merchants and ye ladies; It will glva you a good circulation, warmth of extremities, and glow of the ohcck, natural, healthful and beautiful. Try it all. • . Rules for Homo Education* The following rules we commend to all oprpa troha end friends for ihieif excellence, brevity end practical utility.; They are worthy of beingprint ed In letters of gold, and being placed In a contpl* cuous position In every household. It Is lament* able to oontemplato the mischief mlseryand rain whlchore iho legitimate fruit of those deficiencies which are pointed out In the rules to which W« have referred. Let every parent end.guardian read, ponder and Inwardly digest* - ‘ 1. From yoar chlldreo’s earliest infancy, local* cate the necessity of Instant obedience* .. .. 2. Unite firmness with, gentleness. Let.yout children always understand that you mean exactly what you soy. . 3. Never promise them anything unless you are quite sure you can give them what you promise., . 4. If you tell a ImlechUdtodoeomething.sbow him how to do it, and see that It la done. 5. Always punish your children for wilfully disobeying you, but never punish (hem In anger. G. Never let them perceive that they can vex you, or make you lose your self-command. . 7. If they give way to petulenee and temper* wait till they' are calm, and then gently reason with them on the impropriety of ihelr eondubt. > 8. Remember that a little pruent punishment when the occasion arises, Is much more effectual than the threatening of a greater punishment should the fault bo renewed. . t 9. Never give your children anything because they cry for It. * ■ 10. On r>o account allow them to do at one lima what you have forbidden under the like clrcum* stances* at another. ~ - 11. Teach them that the only sure and easy way to appear good Is to be good. • . v - > • 13, Accustom them to make ihjslr Utile recitals with perfect truth* .. * . ‘ 13.. Nevoc.allow of laid bearing. . ■ jW. , genet. Is-tho appointed, ana Ihoooro method Of soourina. happiness* ' - *’ 15. Guard them against lbs. Indulgence tff an angry and resentful spirit. If these simple rules were reduced to practice, daily practice by parents and guardians, how much misery would bo prevented—how many in danger of ruin would bo saved, and how largely would the happiness of a thousand, domestic circles be augmented! . It Is lamentable to see how extensive is parental neglect, and to witness the sad and dreadful consequences In the utter ruin of thoua* anda. Stormy Women, . The editor of the Albany Knickerbocker dlicour* sea thus: ■ What Is moro disagreeable than a stormy wo* man 7 A friend of ours, who lives in Pesrl street, says that he has been on Ihe unfathomed deep, when tha heavens, pregnant with the direst vengeance, were delivered of their children of wrath—when mighty Jovo rode his thundering chariot over tho mountains of Iho see, and (ho red lightnings glared at his courser's feel—when the demons of (he lent* post hollowed in the blast, and (ho angel of destruo* (ion spread Ids dark plnluns over (he marihefVbark; but all those unutterable horrors didn't begin with his wife when out of temper. When she saw tho mercury of her husband's anger, begin to rise, she'd throw fat Into the fire, and in (wo minutes be further up the ladder of wrath than he could ever climb without taking off h|s boots j and the way ha would catch hot dumplings on his head was not slow,— Some women love to scold, and enjoy themselves best when in a violent passion, and they are as dn« lovely as lobsters, and se distasteful a* stale mush, room. We'd rather encounter a wild cat in tbo.for* eat than a pettleoalod demon In anger* WIFE—MISTRESS—LADT. Who marries for love lakes a wife; who manias for the sake of .convenience takes a mistress; who marries from consideration takes a lady*. You are loved by your wife, regarded by your rnlstrdiS, tolerated by your lady* You have a wife for your* self, a mistress fur your house and Us friends, a lady for the world, Yuur wife will agree with you, your mistress will .accommodate you, your Indy will manage you. Your wife will take Cairo of your household, your mistress of your house* your lady of appearances. If you are sick your wife wilt nurse you, your ralstpss will visit you, and your lady will enquire after your health. Von (nke a walk with your wife, a rido/wlth ycurmfe* irons, and Juln parties with your lady* Your wife will share your grlefe, your mist re* a your mooej% and your lady your debts. If you/ dir, your wife will shed tears, your mistress lament, and your lady wear mourning. A year after your death, your wife marries again, In six ftionths your mis tress, and In six weeks or sooner, whoa mourning is over, your Indy. A Now Hampahlrn Farmer, going to a parish mecting.,mpt his minister, and told hlcn that hli. society thought of Increasing hi* salary. “1 beg of you not to-think of any such thing,” laid iha minister; ‘-Tor Il ls about as much business, to col lect my present salary as.l wish to attend lo;lf It should bo increased, 1 should be obliged let def old my whole time to collecting It. 1 * A young gentleman asked a lady onoday “what shn thought of the married state In general V— “Not knowing can’t toll,” was the reply, “ but If you end I were to put.our heads together, 1 could then glva you a definite answer.' 1 Addison says, 1 never knew a man of good tin* demanding, a general favorite wlihwonienf some singularity In his behaviour, some whim in hie Way of Ufa, and what would bavtmado him ridi culous among men baa recommended him.to the other sex. . lUtiisr Sharp.— A wag, had kept, up i oo'nfln* ual fire ofwitiloiem at a social partyi whsn » tleman, who enjoyed snuff heller thaib Jd«ei rf iW pnn, sharply observed; •" : V ! 1 “If you keep on you; will toakd aWry ,*Ieo«nl person leave,lho hoiim,” < , * A “That would boo sorry Joke, w f* the dry WMJT ••for-you would certainly bo very lonesome," - i): j. i.