American MS Bohnitfer
_ BY JOHN B, BRATTON,
VOL. 40.-
Jjocttcal.
TUB LAST GOOD WIGHT,
BT Et-LEN GREY.
bloao bor eye-lids—press thorn gently
O'er the dim and leaden eyes,
For the soul that made thee lovely
Hath returned unto the skies;
Wipe the dualh.drops from her forehead,
Sever one dear golden tress,
told her icy hands all meekly,
Smooth the little snowy dress;
Scatter flowers o'er her pillow—
Gentle flowers, so pure und while—
Lay this bud upon her bosom ;
There—now softly say, Good Night!
Though our tears flow fast and faster,
Yul wo would not call her back,
‘Wo ore glad her feel no longer
Tread life's rough and stormy track ;
Wo aro glad our Heavenly Father
Took tier white her hourt was pure ;
Wo arc glad ho did not leave her
All life's trials to enduro {
\Vo aro glad—and yol the teardrop
Falloth ; for, ulus ! wo know
That our fireside will bo lonely,
Wo shall miss our darling so.
While the twilight shadows gather,
Wo shall wail in vain to feel
Little arms, ail while and dimpled,
Round our necks so solily steal;
Our wet cheeks will miss tho pressure
Of sweet tips so warm and red,
And our bosoms sadly, sadly
Miss that darling little head.
Which was won't to rest there sweclly ;
And those gentle eyes, so bright,
We shall miss their loving glance.
We shall miss their soft G-_od Night.
When.the morrow's sun is shining,
They will ukn this cherished form,
They will bear it to (ho church-yard,
And consign it to (he worm ;
Well —whirl matter? It is only
Tho clay dress our darling wore ;
Gad hath robed her as an angel,
She hath need of this no more ;
Fold liar hands, aod o'er her pillow
Scatter flowers all pure and whiln,
Kiss that marble brow and whisper,
Once again, a lust Good-Night.
SKtftcrlliinrotis.
THE HUSSAR’S SADDLE.
' Old Ludovio Ilarlz always regarded his saddle
with the deepest veneration, and yol there appeared
nothing about it cipshts of exciting his idolatry.—
It was a Turkish saddle, old and deeply stained with
blood; yet to the bravo Ludovio it recalled a tale of
other days, when young, ardent, and enthusiastic, ho
first drew his sword in defence of his country, against
ills enemies.
Ho had been opposed in battle against the hostile
Invaders of his native Hungary, and many un unbe
lieving dag had his good arm and true sword smitten
to the earth. Various hud berfn the fortune of the
war, and too often was the glory of the holy crass
dimmed by tho lustre of the triumphant crescent.—
SucU asd disasters Were' soldom alludcd to by tho
brave hnesar, but ho loved to dwell on the successful
actions in which he had betsn engaged.
■ta 11 was in one of these fierce combats, that, sadden
ly cut off Train his party, ho found himself surruunJ
% cd by four infuriated Turks, 'But the recollection of
you and your angel mother,’ would Luduvic s«y
to his daughter,‘nerved my arm. I was assailed
by all my opponents. How three fell, 1 know not;
|fe but severe and long was (ho conflict with the last of
my foes; whoso powerful arm was raised against
I* me. Already I saw my wife a mournful w idow and
X my child fatherless, and these (earful thoughts in
g, fused fresh vigor in my arm ; ( article (ho infidel deg
?p. to death, hUffed hiiti from Ills steed, and rilled him
os ho (ay. Xi tills moment, several of the enemy
w- appeared in sight, but I was 100 much exhausted to |
ra renew the perilous conflict. My gallant horse lay
gj. wounded and in tho agonies of death. I throw my
£$ self on (ho Turkish courser, and forced him on at
JSU .(vis utmost speed until 1 regained my squadron. Tho
g© saddle was steeped in the blood of my foe, and mine
|ie mingled with it. When a cessation of hostilities
||r permitted (lie troops to rest for a space from tho
lH horrors of war. I hastened with the I roasurc, w liich
M .during the campaign, 1 had acquired, to my homo,
purchased the fertile fields around my dwelling, and
Hi: forgot for a season tlie miseries of war.’
Tho good Ludovio would hern pause. Tie stilt
retained i lively recollection of his lost wile, and he
'Val&cuulil not buro lo relate tlio circumstances ol lier
, and denllt, Af\er that sad event, his homo
ti became hatuful lo him, and lie resolved again to
engage in the arduousduticsuf a soldier. The liltlu
•Theresa was kindly adopted into tho family of hia
Vs**'- only brother, and Micro, after llio lapse of some years
Buur good hussar found' her blooming in youthful
boauly.
Ludovio arrived only in lime to close the eyes of
liis brother, who, on bis death bod, entreated him lo
%p beslow Theresa on Ms only aon, when they should
hove altainfld a proper ago. Grateful for Ins almost
parental Caro ofliia child, and moved by the silua
'S V lion ofliia brother, whoso whole heart seemed bent
!v / on Miia union, Ludovio promised that when hia
'i , ‘ dougliler should have attained the ago of eighteen,
•he should become llio wife of Karl, provided Kail
i.. 'lliicnaelf desired tlio cunnoctiun ut (hut time, and 1
with hia promise, the old mini died in
'■'.'vM^ncocc,
• This engagement waa concealed from Tliorcaa, •
it was known lo Karl, who exulted in the thought
this rich ]>riio would one day bo hia. With
habits and a coarse turn of mind, tlio delicate
: of Theresa had no charms for him, ho loved
■ Der not. but ho loved the wealth which would one
bo hors, and which ho looked on with a greedy
The thousand soft and nameless feelings which
a'*'jiAACcompaniod a generous and tender passion, wore
to Karl. It was a hard task to him to
his gentle mistress, nor did lie ever feel dis-
WMpoted to play (lie part of a lover except when sumo
seemed inclined lo supply his place. It was
a rurnl/efe given by Ludovio to his neighbors, at
termination of an abundant harvest, that Karl
':'lw.'firßl chose openly lo assert his right. lie had taken
or B rn nlcd that ho should open the dance with
What, then, was bis indignation, when,
entering the apartment, ho saw Theresa, her
//.,*)calender waist encircled by the arm of a young bus-
V asr, moving in Uio graceful waltz? Tlio evident
, •oporlorlly ofhia rival, whoso well knit limbs, firm
V . M®P* anc * ro .® ftn *J martial sir, formed a striking
,7 ■ contrast to his own clownish figure and awkward
wait, only increased his ire, and, in violent wrath,
b*d advanced to Theresa, instating on liia’rlghl lo
'. «ppen the dance with her. Theresa plashed her cii
gfemont, ho presisted ; sho refused his request and
ghod at his anger. 110 became violent and rude,
hussar Intel lorcd, and Uio quarrel rose ao high,
' jt9 to call Ludovio to the spot.
Karl, In u voice almost chookod with passion laid
' his grievances before him. Theresa, In a tone of
-libdlgnatlon, complained to her father of his insolence
■ ir-iind appealed to him whether sho was not at liberty
to select any partner for the dance she thought pro*
- ‘You have no such liborlios !' thundered out
-Vv' N ’|tarl. *Vou are my betrothed wife, and as such,
belong lo mo alone.*
Vlv Theresa cast on him a smilu full of scorn and
but It faded as she looked to her father,
.' .''Bfld a duudly paleness overspread her countenance
• . 7 enquired, ‘Father docs this man speak truth T*
/... Hm* docs my child,* was the reply; and sho dropped
at hi?( feet, ' v
The young hussar now knoll down beside her,
passionaiely kissed her forehead, and raising her in
Ills arms, boro her lo an adjoining apartment, fol
lowed by her father and Karl. Theresa slowly re
vived. Al first she saw no one, and breathing a
deep sigh, murmured, ‘lt was all a horrid dream !’
An anguished groan startled tier into perception and
agony. She looked and saw her father standing bo«
loro her, with folded arms and a countenance clouded
with grief. Karl stood near with an exulting smile,
and the hussar knell beside her, but his face was
buried in his hands. She found it was no dream.—
She looked at her father, ‘Father is there no hope ?'
‘Nona, my honor is pledged.' She then turned lo
the hussar, and placed for a moment her cold hand
in Ills; then rising suddenly, throw herself at the
feet of Karl. ‘Oh, Kurl, have mercy ! I love another
—you do not love me—have pity on us!' 'By all
the powers of houven and hell, you shall bo mlna
Theresa ! I appeal lo your father. Will your
father violate Ins promise to the dead ?' ‘I will not,'
said Ladovic, with solemnity. Then Theresa, ex
claimed Kurl, with fiendliko exultation,'no power
on earth shall save you from being mine !’ and thus
saying ho loft the house.
Theresa rose from her knees, and throw herself
into the arms of her lover. Tho presence of her
father was no restraint on her pure tenderness. Her
(oars fell fust on his manly countenance, hut his ag
ony was too groat for Hint relief. Ludovio was
deeply moved. Ho approached them, and endeavor
ed to calm their affections, and related the circum
stances under which this promise had been given ;
but his concluding words, ‘that ho must hold It sa
cred,’ threw him into a new paroxysm of grief. ‘Wo
must pail, then, Arnliold,’ said tho weeping Theresa,
*wo must part—uh I cun wo survive this cruel blow V
‘No,* said Arnliold, ‘no. 1 I cannot live without you :
lot us unco more entreat your father to have pity
on us!’ and tho youthful lovers throw thomscleos at
Ins foot, ‘Arnliold,’ said Ludovio, sternly, ‘thou a sol'
dior, and ask mo to tarnish my honor 1’ Arnliold
fell tho appeal; ho started up, raised (ho weeping
Theresa, out off with his sabro ono long bright tress,
embraced and kissed her, placed her in the arms of
her fattier and fled.
Every passing day earned with it some portion
of the lorlUudo of Theresa, os if eho saw the near 1
approach of tho period which was to consign her la|
a late so dreadful. Throe little weeks were all that
lay between her and misery. Ludovio endeavored
to sooihe her, but she would nut be comforted. Had
even tier affections boon disengaged, Karl would
have been distasteful to her; but with affections
placed on another, the idea of a union with him ap
peared insupportifblc.
‘.My dear child!’ would Ludovio say interrupting |
a passionate burst of grief,‘by what magic has Arn i
hold gained prsscssion of your heart !’ 'ho is an inis. 1
•ar.’ replied Theresa. There was something in this
reply which moved Luduvic; ho recollected that ho
himself hud imbued tho mind of his daughter with
sentiments ol respect and esteem for the character
of a good suldier ; and conscience reminded him that
ho had often exalted tho profession of arms above
tho peaceful nnd unobtrusive occupations of that of
(lie husbandman. Was it wonderful, then, that
Theresa should have imbibed something of this spir
it 7 or that she should have yielded her heart to ono
who possessed courage to defend her, and tender
ness to soothe her under the afflictions of life 7
Arnliold dwell near them; ho had been tho early
playmate ofThcrcsa, and with glowing cheeks a-nd
sparkling eyes, (hey had often listened together to
the warlike exploits which the good Ludovio delight
ed to relate to them; and to those conversations
might bo alii ibuted the passionate desire of Arn
hold to adopt the profession of arms. Accustomed
1 Io sco them ‘play together as children, and liking the
society of a generous and spirited bny, Ludovio for
got tho danger, when their childhood passed away,
of'llicir affection assuming quite a different charac
ter. It Wat so, and Luduvic now saw with deep
grief that his daughter was unalterably attached to
tho youthful soldier.
If Theresa was unhappy, her father was scarcely
lose so ; lie blamed Ins own imprudence, and on con
irasiing llio characters ol'llie two youths, a violent
conflict between Ins feeling aod Ins duly arose in
his breast ; but the stern honor of the soldier tri
umphed, and ho deemed himsell bound to complete
the sacrifice. Unable, however, to endure (ho Hglu
of tier grief, ho earned her to the abode of a youthful
friend, who formerly resided near them, but on her
marriage had removed la a village about sixty miles
1 distant. There ho loft Theresa, after receiving her
! solemn promise that she would return with Inin the
day before that on which “lie would complete her
[eighteenth year. ‘Father,’said who with streaming
I eyes,'l have never deceived you. If I live 1 will
return ; but do nut griovo too deeply, should my
heart break in this fearful struggle.’ Tho old hus
sar dashed awny a tear which strayed down Ins
scarred and sunburnt cheek, embraced his child and
depniled.
Time ware graduilly away, and at last tho day
arrived which was to soul Theresa's fate. It found
her in a state of torpid despair. Exhausted by her
previous struggles, utl seemed dead; but her mind
was awakened to new suffering. A friend arrived
lo conduct liar to liar father. 'l’lio good Ludovio lay,
apparently on thu bed’of death, and with breathless
impatience Theresa pursued her journey.
On her arrival, her father's sick room was not aul
iljry; (ho detested Karl was there, ond llioro too
waa the youthful hussar. ‘My child,’ said Ludovio,
'my days uro numbered; my fatu must soon bo de
cided, and, alas ! yours also ! To my dying brother
! solemnly promised, that on this day 1 would offer
you to his son fur his bride. Without fulfilling my
engagement, I could nol dio In peace; oven lliu
gtavo could atfurd no rest. Can you sacrifice your
self for my future repose?’ ‘lean 1 will,’cried
the unfortunate Theresa, sinking on tier knees,‘so
help mo Heaven I' ‘Heaven will bless a dutiful
child !' said Ludovio, with fervor. 'Karl, draw near,'
Karl obeyed. Theresa shuddered. ‘Karl,’ said Ludo.
vie, ‘yuu say you love my child; cherish her, I con
jure you os you liopo fur future happiness. In her
yuu possess a treasure; but I must warn you, she
will bring you but one portion of my possession.’
Karl started and retreated a few steps. ‘That, how
ever, 1 continued Luduvic, which 1 look upon as my
greatest oartlily treasure, I givo you will) my daugh
ter. You Karl, boliovo mo to have same virtues.—
Alas! alas! you linow 00l tho secret sins which
have sullied my life—llio rapine, ilia murder, but
onougb of this! I liavo confessed to my spiritual
father, and liavo obtained absolution for tho dark
catalogue—but on condition that 1 leave all my
woolth to the church os tin atonement for my trans
gressions. 1 could not forget that I was a father:
I pleaded the destitute state of my child—l implored
1 entreated—at length 1 wrung from the pious
father his consent that 1 should retain my greatest
treasure for Theresa. I chose my saddle. Keep it
dear child in remembrance of an affectionate father.
And yon Karl, are you satisfied to relinquish worldly
goods for the welfare of my soul 7 Are you content
to lake my daughter with this portion t
'Fool! 1 exclaimed Karl,‘doting idiot! how dare
you purchase exemption at my expense? Your
wealth is mine; your wealth must bo (bo portion of
my bride, 1 will reclaim thorn from those rapacious
monks, and (oar them from tho altar I*
‘You cannot, you dare not,' replied Ludovio rats.
Ing his voico ln apgor; ‘my agreement with your
father had reference to my daughter only—my woulh
formed no part oi it.'
•Driveller! dotard!’ vociferated Karl, Mhiuk you
that 1 will accept a portionless bride 7 You must
seek some other fool for your purpose; 1 renounce
her.*
'Givo hor to mo, father S’ cried Arnhuld, 'I swear
to cherish and protect her while 1 live. Givo |hor
to mo, and when eho shall he (ho beloved wife of my
bosom, 1 will lire for hot—aye, and die for her.’
Karl laughed In mockery. ‘You vsluo life but
Hltlo,* said lie, Mo talk ol sacrificing it for a woman.
K never know ono worth tho trouble of winning, and
least of all, Theresa.’
The young hussar laid Lis hands on hi* sabre.—
Theresa throw herself between thorn. At the same
“ OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS OS RIGHT—DOT RIOHTOR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY."
CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 7, 1853
moment Ludovio sprang from his couch, (ore the
covering from his head, snatched the saddle from
the wall where it hung, seized his sabre, with one
stroke laid It open, and a stream of gold bezants,
oriental pearls, and sparkling jewels foil down upon
the floor. ‘Wretch I worm! vile clod of earth,! art
thoa not justly punished ? Hence reptile, bcgonoi
before I forgot that thou art of my blood !*, Luduvic
raised his sabre, and tho dastardly Karl ded, with
out daring logivo utterance to tho imprecation which >
hung on his lips. I
Trampling under foot tho cosily jewels which lay
strewed around, Theresa rushed forward and cm* 1
braced her father, exclaiming, 'ls not this a dream 7 .
Are you indeed restored to mo 7 Can this bliss bo i
real ?' ,
‘Forgive mo my child,' exclaimed Ludovio, ( (hd I
pain I have been obliged to give your genorousjtcart.
My effort to make that wretch resign his claim to
your hand has been successful. Grudge not that 1
part of our store has boon appropriated to the holy I
church—not to purchase forgiveness of tho sins XU
mentioned, and of which, thank Heaven, 1 am guilt
lilcss, but to bo (ho blessed moans of saving yoq from,
a miserable fate. Kneel down, my children—ay©
, support her, Arnhold—lay her,, innocent bead on
ynur bosom, and receive the fervent benediction of
an old hussar.'
Pattern 'Wives.
BY FANNY FSRN.
Mrs. Violcl was ono ofyour pattern wives,.never
laced her boots without consulting her husband.
Uor dross nialter always kioud, scissors in hand, till
ho had turned over in his mind tho relative udvan'
l*gos of flounces and tucks, boddicas and basket:
waists. Mrs. Violet was merely on echo of Mr.
Violet, her voice wos soft and low, her motions slow.
and proper : and she hung on his arm, and cuddled
up tu his side in a manner convincing to tho most
skeptical that sho was * tho weaker vessel.*
Now I suppose you think Mr. Violet was master
of his own house. St. Peter I no more than you are !
There was a took in the corner of that little meek
creature's eye, that wua as good as a lauded musket,
and Mr. Violet fetched and carried accordingly. Not
that she ever raised that musical voice above a sigh*
mg whisper ; no, indeed ! she left that to the strong
minded monster women, who never road this passage
in John Milton—' do for God only, she for God in
him.’ Nevertheless, Mr. Violet's knowledge of tho
world was confined entirely to the length other apron
siring, stilt it was always 1 husband 1 and * dear Via*
lei,’ even when the poor wretch knew that tiis life
wasn't worth two cents, did ho abate ‘one jot or
lilllo' of his matrimonial loyalty.
[ Wlut gave me convulsions was to hoar her defer
to Ins opinion in company, and then to see him
fuichcd up in the middle of a sentence, at a gentle re*
minder from the too of her slipper under the table !
Every night. Violet stepped mtolho confession box,
never daring to swerve u particle from the truth, so
fully was ho impressed with the idea of Mrs. Violet's
clairvoyance. How ho tended the baby, and lied tho
children's pinafores 1 how ho sowed on missing but*
tons, when the blinds were doted'. How lovingly
Mrs. Violul looked over his hymn-book in meeting!
how sweetly she smiled when she offered him the
cricket! how touchingly she turned tu her husband
to reply for her, when a neighbor asked her a ques*
lion. How ho didn't know any more Ilian" you do I
tho contents of Ins letters till she had inspected the'
same. How his best coal and vest wore locked up
ou Sunday night at snndown, lest ha should bo tempt
ed to mako himself for some other Violet—bow 3 he
hud to oat 4 pickcd-up dinners,' on the full conviction,
thathlia rtr«*i turkey illd'WiJirto'hpd "g^dhiT"^ltT her
niHlincr’a. How Tommy had & 4 soldier cap* made
of the Evening Transcript, before his paternal could
got a birds eye view of it. How Mrs. Violet gave
him private tuition m pulling on her shawl affection
ately, which exhibition was to come off in public the
first favorable opportunity, (low all tho humbugged,
kcensighled (?) public remarked, Mr. and Mrs. Vio
i let V
How Mis. Violet died one djy, and how her bus- 1
band drew a long brualli, and look a vow to find her
antipodes if alto crimed on leir-i firms, and how lie
married a saucy hlliu bounty, who cuffs his oars In
public, and loves him like ten thousand in private,
wiio minds tier baby and darning needle, and leaves
him in undisturbed possession of Ins liberty and his
ledger. Happy Violet ! ho behoves, with mo, now
m blue eyes and Paradise.
A Coquette Rebuked.
Lord N , a nobleman both by nature and
birth, was noted fur his strict virtue, his unassuming
manner, and grace and elegance of person, ilo hud
in a r nrd when quite young, a lady of equal rank with
himself, though she was by no means handsome, but
lie loved her with an almost romantic fervor.
The countess of L was a most superbly
beautiful woman, and once, in company with a num
ber of friends, boasicd ibui she could conquer Lord
N if she could only gain his attentions long
enough. The boast was received with doubts.
• Hu is eminently a Christian man,' said one.
• A (ig for his Christianity,' said the countess, con
temptuously. * 1 101 l you I oan make him ‘ suo me
Cur u smile,’ 1 wish 1 could gala his arm for ono
quarler of on hour.’
Her wisli was gratified, that very evening at a
brilliant parly, Lord N- ■ and his lady appeared-
Olazing with costly jewels, radiant as a perl, the
unprincipled countess riveted every eye, she was in
deed fairer than a poet's dream. VVitli the most
delicate manoeuvring she gained the attention of
Lore] N ■ t and walked triumphantly through the
bluzo ofbcauly, casting significant glances on those
who had heard her idle boast. {
Uul though os polite as the most accomplished
man of the world, she could see that Lord N
was totally unmoved by her elegant stylo, or her
coquettish airs and glances. Finally, as ho gave
some little quotation, which ho considered delicately
complimented by the approval of Ills wife, the coun
tess ventured to sneer, she was piqued because ho
quoted his wife, that plain Lady N ,before Itor,
the imperious, the acknowledged belle of the whole
empire. Luid N turned his dark eye fully
upon her, 1 my dear madam,' ho said, in on cmpljajio
manner, ‘ one approving word from my wife is wftrlh
a thousand from any oilier woman, however brilliant
or beautiful she may bo.'
The blood mounted to the check and brow of the
countess, she felt how sublime was the dignity of
virtue, but one did nut yol despair. Seeing Lady
N conversing with one of the blandest of
sovereigns, she exclaimed, — 4 Look, my lord !do you
not boo how entirely engrossed your lady seems with
the handsome king 7 you should bo jealous.'
• I am not,' ho replied, still more severely,' my wife
and 1 have a motto, that honor wilt never suffer it
self oven to bo tempted,—and as fur myself, wilti
rolorenco to Lsdy N , I can soy In the divine
language of scripture, * (ho heart of her husband doth
safely trust in her.'
The coquette was silenced, tier animation gone,
those who noted it know the reason why. As for
tho countess she was ofton afterwards hoard to
declare that could eho obtain a husband Jiko Lord
N alio should consider herself tho happiest
woman in tho world.
Ingenuity op a Sailoh. —Several Bailors on
board of a vessel had brought a supply of tobacco
with ihora. How woro (hoy to csoapo the revenue
Cercbortis at (ho goto. “1 liqvo It," said ono of
them, biting upon an idea, and scratching his head
with glee, “I’ll jump Into tho dockland while
they’re making a groat fuss to aavo mo, you bolt'
with tho loaf!" Tuwas immediately carried out.
Tho tar who was almost amphibious, plunged into
tho dook, crying at tho same lime lustily Ibr help.
Tito alarm was given; lights procured,,and tho
officers from every part attracted to tho econo,
and while tho search and uproar continued, the
companions of tho apparently drowning man got
safely away, )
A BICU SKETCU-LEROY JENKINS.
While riding not long since,ln tho old county of!
St—’ff— d, in Virginia, and passing along a rarely 1
frequented road, 1 hoard a noise that at once arrested
nty. attention. It was a soliloquy in a loud key, and
interlarded with an occasional oath, to prove that the
Colloquial was in earnest. Guiding my horse quietly
In the direction of the voice, I saw a follow about
ha|roornod, deliberately cutting a long hickory swich,
[and talking to himself at tho same lime with groat
' earnestness. I thought at first that ho intended to
{ vtdlip his horse, that stood near by, and 1 was about
turning off, when a now sot of phrases in his self.
' lajft'arrested my attention, and made mo the witness
of jho following 89000.
..‘Well, now, Leroy Jenkins, I expect you’ll catch
gpiiil, in a little white. It won’t bo lung first bofbro
I Loroy Jenkins's hido gels painted some. I'll pay
[ypth Leroy Jenkins, for all tins, you trifling curse
I
* Being in sumo doubt whether Leroy Jenkins was
of his horse, or ofsomo expectant combatant
I preparations, of a character simitar.ld those
ItjfeVo mentioned, wore quietly progressing a short
distance off, I determined to await the issue of these
fierce threats, and throwing my log aver my saddle,
I prepared to become a spectator of the fight, and
perhaps an umpire when one party or tho other had
got enough.
-'My friend of the hickory, as soon as ho had cut
saj trimmed liis switch, and satisfied himself of its
elasticity and unbruken strength, laid it down on tho
grdund, talking all the lime, in a very loud (one of
Le?oy Jenkins.
Deliberately taking off Ms coat, and hying it on a
tog, he took up his flail, and the first I heard of lus
•uOoceding soliloquy was as follows i
‘ Now Leroy Jenkins, ain't you ashamed of your*
sqlf; you nasty hound you, and 1 am just now going
to give you your billers, you infernal mean reptile
you !’
In tho mean time I loaned n litllo forward to catch
B glimpse of liis antagonist, but though the cuisl
was comparatively clear, I could sue no human face,
save that of tho speaker, and I was now very sure
lhat.ho did nut mean the horse, for ho look an oppo
site direction. 1 had small time, however, for reflec
tion, for as his speech waxed warmer, ho stepped a
little forward, and alined u sort of a back handed
blow, which descended with a keen soundand conoid
ertfulo force on hit own back I
* Thcr?, you infernal devil, take that and that (allrow I
shrow, tho switch descended) —That's for your mean- >
ness, Leroy Jenktns. Now, sir, what are you going 1
tq J ell your wife, when you got homo, about tho |
money you got for her eggs and whortleberries, you
mbitn pup? You spent it for liquor did you 7 There |
lake that (shrow shrow shrow ) She told you Leroy (
Jenkins to buy her u looking-glass and enough cali
co to make her a chicken bonnet, and where are
they, you darned cuss you 7—gone for liquor, hey 7
(shrow, throw, shrow.) Well, 1 don't care if it docs
hurt you—il serves you right. Lcioy Jenkins, for
making a beast of yourself usd for fooling your poor
wife, you mean whelp you. You know sir, when
you loft homo, she told you that you could not pass
near Simmons's without spending all that money.—
You know she did, don’t you 7 Now, sir, lake that,
(shrow, shrow, y and didn’t you promise her, Loroy
Jenkins, that you wouldn't go near Simmons's, ond.
would buy bora nice glass, und the prettiest kind of |
1 calico for her bonnet 7 Didn't you know, you cussed ,
1 moan dog you ? Ycs. sir, you know you did, (shrow,
shroWj'Bhrow, and the hickory descended with fright
ful keenness,) and, Leroy Jenkins what made you
i Sißih a fool as to go by Simmons’s at all, when you
i Walker standing in the door, ready to Irinil
■ yoti'Jind to treat all your money up 7 W/isl made
i you do tint, you rotten herring you 7 (shrow, shrow.)
Well, sir, I’llpay you for all this, (shrow. shrow.)
Yuq will go to town and spend your wife's money
for whiskey, will you V and the blows were now per
petrated with moro ficquency (tian the words. Al
though almost dying with suppressed laughter, I
watched the infliction of this self-acting punishment, I
winch was bestowed with far mure zeal than Were I
tho llioujand of stripes whereby Sanclio was In dis 1
enchant the Lily.love of his master. At length Leroy
Jenkins stopped, whether through tho pilro exhaus
tion, or because ho thought the delinquency was
sulhcicnlly punished, I urn uiublu to say Throwing
away Ids switch, w inch by this liinu wns a little
flayed ul the end, ho resumed his coat and Ins speech.
‘ Now, Leroy Jenkins, now, sir, you have got licked,
and wull licked, 100, Una tune, and I lie very next
lime you do tins trick, I'll lake the hide off you.—
Yuu floor that, don't you 7 and now go homo, sir, (<>
your wife, and beg her pardon, you mean cuss you !'
1 stepped away unporccivod by tins justice-dealing
culprit, but 1 never think of tins scene without an
irresislublo desire to Lugli. And even now. when
ever there happens to bo a liltlu breeze in the family.
I can always make my wife smile by lulling Itor I'll
go into the woods, my dear, and as a punishment for
having vexed you, fur u while I'll play Leroy Join
kins.— Spirit of the Timet.
Aa Abandoned Woman Turned Sailor*
A young womsn, known ul the Points as ■ Shorty’
wift arrested yesterday on suspicion of having rubbed
some one, os she appeared lo have plenty of money,
which alio was squandering with a perfect looseness.
Upon being brought boforo the magistrate, she said
that about thirteen months ago she came off Black
well's /eland, having served out a three months im
prisonmenl as a common prostitute; and not wishing
to engage again in (ho same business, she assumed
mole attire and determined lo go on u sea voyage.—
Consequently eho proceeded to Nantucket, uudor tho
garb of a sailor, and then took passage in a whaling
ship fur a three years’ voyage. In tins disguise she
maintained her position among Iho men in the fore
castle for over seven months, until the fifth of July,
after founding Capo Horn, the ship put into Riu fur
water, and while she lay at anchor, by a meto ac
cident her box was discovered. Tho fact was sown
communicated to tho captain, who transferred hie
fumalo sailor lo (ho American Consul. Thu Consul
procured rospccUblo clothing for her sex, and dis
patched her lo this port by one of tho return vessels.
About a week ago she arrived hero, having over BGO
which alio had made by her trip, eho was spending
it ul tho various groggcrics on the Five Points, which
fact looking rather suspicious, it was supposed to
have been stolon, oousod tho officer to arrest tier.
Tins singular fumalo has a vary good countenance,
short stoturo.and broad build, her hair was cut short,
sho both smoked and chewed tobacco, and talked
sailor lingo very fluently. which is gonncrully of a
very plain nature, embellished now and (hen in their
own peculiar way. Her manner in walking, and (ho
movements ofhor body, would appear to on observer
us if slio was a young man dressed up in Iconic
clothing.
The investigation appearing satisfactory to (ho
magistrate,she was discharged from custody.— N. Y-
Merchantt Day Book.
Flowers.
The very name is suggestive of till that is frosh
and lovely in nature. Tho germs that sparkle in
her diadem—tho rich embroidery and tho glitter-
Ing adornments of hor gayest and her simplest
robes—the poarls, the rubies, tho diamonds, tho
sapphires, tbo gorgeous jewels that enrich, and
beautify her lair person—aro limy not sweet flow
ers 1 Tho highest and tho lowest, the rich, and
the humble, those who uro gifted with high Intel
lect, and (hose of limited capacity—all unite in
this ono sweet sense of the boaulilu). It is a sud
house that has no flowers in it; hard and harsh
souls which can lot tho summer-time glide away,
and find no pleasure in looking upon this choicest
of nature’s gift. Wo may oxpool to find tho ex
quisite blossoms of our own land, and raro exot
ics, in tho lordly dwellings of tho rich; and wo
see humbler, but not leas lovely in the homes of
the poor, as carefully attended and cherished as
their means nod limited lime will permit, even
though h bo one small flower in a little pot, strag-1
gllng for Ilfs io a smoky garret.— AU/any Adv. 1
KIIOHLAWD DIARY.
Highland Mary was Mary Campbell, from
Campbelltown, in Argyloshire, and lived in Colls*
field, in the humble situation of dairy-maid to Col,
Montgomery. She also lived at one time as nurse
maid' In the family of Burns’ friend and patron,
Gavin Hamilton, where he visited her. Mary
had gone to the West Highlands to makearrange
monls among her friends for her marriage with the
poet, and on her return to Greenock—where it
was appointed they should meet—she was seized
with fever of which she died, a few days before
Burns even heard of her illness. This was the
cause of their sudden separation.
Although Mr. Denham travels oversome of the
grounds touched upon by “Heather Jack,” yet, as
no relates incidents, many of them unknown to
the general reader, we believe it wilt repay for the
time lost in the perusal: “Most people, most read
ing people,” writes Thomas Denham, “are more
or less acquainted with the bard’s two beautiful
effusions—‘Highland Mary’ and the address to
•Mary in Heaven.’ Poor Highland Mary was a
beautiful, interesting, and innocent young crca*
lure—for human loveliness, goodness and great
ness
Can nesilo in (he lowly build,
As wed's in caatlu ha'
And though brought up in humble circumstan
ces, Mary had charms which attracted many woo
ers; and says Allen Cunningham: “There was
not wanting the temptations, &c., to allure." 13uI
nothing could win her young affections from the
peasant poet—’.hey were betrothed. Mary was
go homo to the western highlands to make ar
rangements for their marriage. “And their adieu,”
says Cromeck, an author, “was performed in a
sinking, moving way. Tho lovers stood on op
posite sides of a small brook, face to face; they <
laved their hands in the running stream, holding a I
Bible between them; pronounced their vows, to be 1
'faithful to each oilier, and parted never to moeli
1 again !” I
I Byway of continuation, Burns’s own words!
(are: “At the close of tho following autumn, site j
(crossed the sea to meet meal Greenock, where l
she had scarcely landed, when she was seized I
1 with a malignant fever, that hurried my dear girl
Ito her grave m a few days before I even could
1 learn of her illness.” The Bible they made use
jof on their final parting, was afterwards in the
| possession of Mary’s sister, in two volumes, on
jeach of which is inscribed a quotation from itsell
in Burns’s handwiing. On the first, “And yo
shall not swear by my name falsely—l am the
* Lord.” On Itj.e second, “Thou shall not forswear
thyself, but perform unto the Lord thy oaths.”
There is something exceedingly touching in this
phase of poor Burns’s existence, and the pathos
und Jeep feeling evinced in these two admirable
poems can well attest how his sensitive heart
must have writhed under tho harrowing affliction
which wrenched the lenderest, dearest chords.—
Long songs pall upon the ear, and ’tis customary
to abbreviate them in singing; but 1 cannot sec
(how one link of this sweet chain can bo spared
i without marring its beautiful symmetry. May
I God amend tho taste that can mutilate “Highland
I Mary.”
Moore** Wife.
I “Moose's wife,” says an Knglish paper, ‘ was
|a ballet girl named Delay Dyke: but not a word
is said of her in Lord John Russell's Life of the
This event must have been a terrible blow
to tho poet’s whole family, and especially lo his
mother, who expected that ho would have married
a countess in her own right at the very least, with
an ample fortune. Indeed, he did not summon
up courage to mention the event to her for three
months. She was, however, a most excellent
and devoted wife. Wo scarcely know that she}
had any relations of her own, for they are not once ,
mentioned; hut all her thoughts, desires and affec-1
lions were given up to her husband and his faim- 1
iy-” __ _ :
‘•That** the Allegory.’*
A miser being dead, and fairly interred, came to i
the banks of the river Niyx, desiring to be ferried 1
over along with the other ghosts. Charon de-1
manded Ins fare, and was surprised to see the nu-i
ser. rather than pay it, throw himself into the river |
and swim over lo tho other side, notwithstanding
all tho clamor and opposition that could ho made
to him. All Tartarus was in an uproar, and each
of l lie judges was meditating upon some punish
ment suitable to a crime of such dangerous conse
quences lo the infernal revenues.
“Shall he be chained to the rock along with
Prometheus 1 or tremble below tho precipice in
company with the Daoatdosl or assist Sisyphus
in rolling his stone 1”
“No,” said Minos, “none of these; wo must in
vent some severer punishment. Let him be sent
back lo the earth, to see the use his heirs are mak
ing of his riches.”
W msTLiNO.— -Speaking of bores, wo can scarce
ly imagine one capable of inflicting more twisting
misery than an ihlolerablo whistler. A dulcet p p
fife wo can stand, when all the nation is “armed
and equiped,” &c., on training day, and the drum
with its Hang, Hang, Hang, serves to drown its
screams; but lo listen to a bad air, badly murdered
by a poorer pucker, wo prefer death in some easier,!
if not quicker way. We always think of the
French stage-driver, who being annoyed by such
a boro, suddenly turned upon him with, “my
fricn, vat for you all (ho time vislesl You loss
your dug , ch ?” Tho whistler was plugged.
A late wilier says that tho mind that is capable
of sorrow is capable of good. A beautiful senti
ment and as true as beautiful. Hearts are like
oranges, the more juicy they are the more virtue
they possess. “The springs of pity in the eye”
never dry up till the fires of passion have com
pletely evaporated the fountains of benevolence
winch Nature places beneath the bosom of every
undershirt.
Don't bo afraid to marry n woman because she
is a little cross and snappish now and then. Re
member (ho best appius are produced by engraft
ing on n crab. A woman that scolds and gels
feverish may be rather trying to tho patience but
sho is always the divinity of cleanliness. Indeed
it is hei love of neatness that makes iter fret. It
Mrs. Sourby had no more care for her parlor than
that good-natured piece of diminity, Mrs. Flatu
once, she would care no more for airly bools than
sho does. Uul ns sho differs in this respect from
tier good naturoJ neighbor, a spoiled dog on her
front slops gives her a rush of blood to the heart
that can only bo subdued by a resort to hot water
and broomsticks. Again wo repeal don't cut a
girl booauso she scolds.
The Republic says; "Wo have just road, in
a newspaper issued in a miner town, in an adjoin
ing Stale, a very pathetic obituary notice of a
gentleman lately deceased, of whom it is said that,
"born of poor but honest parents."
Upon which tho Louisville remarks:
"What eccentric parents this chap must have had,
to combine in their composition both poverty and
honesty; but still they are not as singular, perhaps,
as some have boon. Wo often road of a man’s
parents being poor but honest; but wo never road
an obituary yet wherein it was said the man’s pa
rents wore wealthy, but honest. Will editors
please notice when they come across such an In
. Blanco V’
AT $8 00 PSS APoil
m 5.
©DOa nnu EnJys.
Annoying—the flies.
Wanted—Cement in China*
An extensive tanner—*lhe son*
Time and tide waits for no msp.
Retreating—folks to the springs.
Economy is the poor man’s mint.
An Edinburgh paper stales that an American
lias invented a machine which is to be driven by
the force of circumstances.
Look bewitching—the ladies In (he new style
jes-me-quick bonnets.
Something more rare than poetry for Ibepfcopie,
-People for the poetry,— Diogenei •
The young man who ran away from
cause his mother would not let him wear rild£-
boards to his shirts, in now acting as guard
to o charcoal wagon.
How superior to nature is aril A pair of na*
lure’s Jot black eyes, when properly brpagbt to
focus, have always received our admiration) bat
an artificial black oyo is abominable.
Somebody says that when David slew Ooliah
with a sling, the latter fell stone dead and of course
quite astonished, as such a thing bad never
hia head before .
“Did you say that my brother Jim dido*l know
as much as Smith's yellow dog 1”
“No, I said Smith’s yellow dog knew more than
your brother Jim.”
Sometimes So. — lf the speculator misses bis
aim, every body cries out, “he’s a fool,” and
sometimes, “he's a rogue.” If be succeeds, they
: besiege his door and demand his daughter In mar
i nage.
The Proof.—That man is not totally deprav
ed- is shown by (be fact that whenever we soetwo
dogs fighting, we always lake the uido with the
smaller one.
Swearing. —Do not accustom yourself to swear
ing. There are words enough in the English lan
guage sufficiently expressive of all our passions.
The Two Great Objects. —The discovery of
what is true, and the practice of what is good, are
the two most important objects in life.
A dealer in ready-made linen in New York ad
vertises his shirts and chemisettes under the mel
lifluous appellation of “malo and female envel
opes.”
In summer, people should never elefp after sun
rise. The most beautiful portion of June is that
part sacred to dew-drops and early robins. A man
of (ruo pooiic feeling is always stirring with (bo
lark, tolerates no bed after day break, save a bed
of roses.
The editor of the Transcript has had a silk um
brella returned to him that was stolen six months
ago. No reason is assigned for the rash act of
returning it.
In every situation, and on every occasion, study
to be firm, resigned, moderate in your desires,
temperate in your enjoyments, and by avoiding
UlO pursuit of delusive pleasure, you will secure
tranquility.
Some genius liae announced it as hia belief that
JI here will be suoh facilities for travellingi “blm
fby,” that you can go any whore for nothing and
oomo back again.
A delicate and interesting female, a Lapland
giantess, measuring sovon feel (wo inches, and
weighing twenty-five stone, is being exhibited at
Aberdeen, Scotland,
So soft a pillow is death to a good man, so wil
lingly, so gently does he leave the world, as a
weary traveller goes to bod at night.
When a woman gets a new drees or bonnet,
you’ll find that, for a fortnight afterwards, she will
he more in the streets and In other people's houses
than a t home.
\V lien we see a person perambulating the streets,
with hands in hia pockets, a cigar in his mouth, pa
tent leather on his leel, and hat set jauntily on one
side, we do feel like inquiring how bis credit
stands with the washer woman.
Funnv Piiedicamknt. — While a parly of twelve
ladies wero in bathing at Newport, (R. 1.) the
other day, the horse ran away with the wagon
containing all their clothes. How they reached
homo can bolter bo imagined than described.
When a man tabes a full mofnlng bath, niqo
million mouths are opened to thank him; for every
pore of the skin has separate cause lo be grateful
fur its daily ablution.
The French feed hens with bread soaked io
wine to make them lay. Soaking bread aod eggs'
in ibis country, ofion makes “old cooks” lay |p
tlio gaiter. Wo don’t know how it would affect
hens.
Ilublis aro easily formed. Use yourself to
woodcock lor a month or two, and you will soon
come lo relish game dinners as well as you do
bean soup 01 fricasseed mackerel. Try it on.
Don’t dispute against facts well established,
merely because there is something unaccountable
to them. That the world should bo created out
of nothing is lo ua inconceivable; but not thorelbro
to be doubled.
“Dick, 1 say, why don’t you turn that buffalo
robe t'other side out I—hair eide in is the wann
est.” “Uahl Tom. Do you suppose llie,an)mal
himsolf didn’t know how lo wear his hide T 1 fol
low ins style.”
Somo people make strange mistakes as to the
nature of angels.” There's not a word in (ha
whole Bible about a female angel! They are
always to the other sex.
Young ladies who become faint on being “pro
posed to,” can be restored to oonsclousDesa by
just whispering in their sox that you were only
joking.
A very promising young man In this neighbor
hood commuted suicide the other day,by jumping
out of his boots und lodging on his standing col
lar !
A movement has been made in Philadelphia tp
establish a homo for decayed merchants. inNevk
York they are trying to got one up for decayed
politicians, but as there ia pot vacant ground
enough for such a purpose, U will probably fail.
Mow many fond mothers and frugal housewives
keep their pretty daughters and preserves for some
extra (occasion—somo “ big bag” o t other, till
both turn sour. This seems to us to bo marvelous
poor economy.
“Sammy why don’t vour mother mend ,lhof rip
in your trousers V 1 “Oh, she’s gone to the sew*
ing circle, to make clothes for poor children!”
Champagne bottles, it appears by experiment*
are worthless unless they will boar the weight 0/
a dozen atmospheres imprisoned within thepa.
No man is obliged to think beyond his Jlgh*
and wenever leave good sonde behind uJi wS.wfyli
,t 6 get beyond it.