AMERICAIf/VOLUIfTEEII. 1 yirDEranEO ;: 1 drlpW 8./i#raitoni. ;'TE.RiM,S ‘ Dollat' and Fifty Cents, MnlA In advance; Two Dollardll paid Within thq rear' ondiTwo;Dollard add Fifty Cents, If not Lid within the year. These terms will bo rig idly adhered 16 In-every instance. No sub scription discontinued: until all arrearages' are onid unless at the option of the Editor. v by thocxsn, and not exceeding one.square} will bo inserted Ahroo times for Qog,Dollar and twonty-flvo cents for each additional inpefttoiu Those of agreat lorlonilli In proportion,; , . Jod-FbWtino— Stich as Hand-bills, Posting- Vms> Pam'plilcfs, Blanks,Xabols, &o. r&o.,exe cuted with, accuracy and.qt- the shortest notice. TO IN .HER TinBTEEPiTfI YEIH. steps are dancing toward the bound Between the child and woman* .'And thoughts and feeling more profound, 1 And other years, are- coming; And though shall be,more deeply fair, Mpro precious to the heart j but never can’st though be again That lovely thing thou, art I And youth shall, pass, with all the brood Orn»ncy-fcd affection 5 And grief shall come wjth Womanhood, Ami waken cpld reflection ; 'Thou’lt torirn to toll and wolch, and weep b’er pleasures, unrdturnlng, i.iko one who wakes from pleasant sleep Unto the care of morning. Jfay, say not so! nor cloud the sun Of joyous expectation, Ordained tp'blcss the little one, • The freshUng of creation! Nor doubt that He. who thus doth feed Her early lamp with gladness, frill ho lier present help in need, Her comforter In sadness. Smile on, then, IiUIC winsome thing I All rich In Nature’s treasure j Thou host within the heart a spring Of self-renewing pleasure. Smile on, fair child, ami take thy dll Of inlrlli, till time shall end it; *Tis nature’s wise and gentle will. And who shall reprehend it 1 HERE'S TO TUBE, OLD FBIEXD. dt rnoitAs uooac. Long years liavo pass’d, old friend, since wc First met in life’s \ oung day; And friends lung loved by thee and me, Since dhoti h:ivo ilrnpp d away 5 Bat enough remain to cheer us on, And sweeten, when thus wo'ro mot, The ghass wo 1)11 to the many gone, And the few who’re lelt'to'ua yet. OurJooks, old Iriond, now thinly grow, And some hang white and chill 5 White some, like tlow’rs ’mid autumn snow, Retain youth’s color still. And jsOj in our hoaits, though one by ono. Youth’* sunny hopes have set, Thank heaven, not all their light is gone, We’ve sumo to cheer ns yet. Then here's to thoo, old friend, and long May thou and 1 Unis meet, .To brighten still with n ine and song This short life ore it licet, And still,.as death Comes stealing on, Lot’s never, old Iriend, lorget, Lv’n while wo sigh o’er blessings gouo, Mow many are left us yet. ,3iijs«lluneoiis, m REDEEMED O.NIS, 08, A LIFE’S LESSOR. BT STI.VANU3 COUD. "Mamma," spoke the boy, loud enough to bo heard by tho father distinctly, "ta papa Sick?" *• Yes tny child, don’t make a noise.” "I wont, T wont," said the little voice soft' ly, hut yet plainly. “But is papa very aick ? • Yc-s, Freddy. h For some moments the child was silent, and he seemed deeply interest* <1 in some meditation At length he wild—and there was a hopeful ness in his tone — "Miyniiu, wasn't papa sick when he struck you "Yea, yea, Freddy. But you must not speak of it again. Ue didn’t mean to strike me." "t shouldcn’t think that ho would strike such a pood mnimnn." ••He won’t again Freddy." "But will he evgr love mo again, mamma ? Will ho ever kiss mo ns he used to ?" ••Hush, my child." "But I won’t wuke pnpn up. Do tell mo if papa will ever love me any more .” ••Oh I hope ho will." ‘So he will, Freddy." There wan another silence of some moments and then the child spoke again, and this lime with a simple earnestness that was strange for one of his years. "Mamma, can Qod -hear us when we speak to him ?" "Yes. yes, my child." "And if I am good won’t he do what I ask him to ?" "Anything that is really for your good my sou.” ’•Well," I mean to bo good, I will bo good always so that God will help papa. Oh ma nta, if f am always good, won’t God make pa pa well, and make him love me once more ?" With one frantic yearning of her soul, tho doting mother caught her Itoy to her bosom, and wept. Alfred heard her stilled sobs, noise lessly, he raised himself on Ins elbow and gaz ed upon her. His own eyes were tilled with team, and marks of Intense pain were upon his brow, Ue saw his child—his noble, getter* °us child—pillowed upon tho bosom of Ins de voted wife, and the picture startled him.— IFhen ho settled buck , upon l»la pillow again bl« ; hnnda were elapsed, and his lips moved With some silent utterance of his soul. There was at that moment a mighty power within him, and iu the deblh of hip awakened love ho took a solemn oath. But ho watt determined that tho oath should not be spoken aloud until his life had in a measure proved his sincerity. Evening canto, and Alfred managed to cat a light supper which his wife hud prepared.— 'The night passed away and when morning Came, two officers came for Alfred Mantlon. "For what ?" asked the frightened wife, turn* Ing pale. "Only a witness,” was the reply. When Alfred canig down ho found that a Bupooha had been served, and that ho must ap pear ait court. The ofllcor could not tell him What tho case was. In a short time tho young man was ready, and when he readied the court* house he found' tlint on the evening of his lasi debauch, a man had been killed in a row at a drinking house where, ho had been present, Alfred Marston, was culled upon tho stand, but he icputd tell of nothing of what had hap* penoa on tho occasion, ulludod to: and ho was hot a little startled to learn that ho had boon in tip company of a gang of tho most desperate scoundrels Ami villains in tho city—that ho had been'seen drinking and plaWng with them. ! "Young man.” said the Judge; as soon as It Was found that Alfred had left tho place before tho man was.ki|lc<l, "I should hardlysupppso that oho like you belonged to such company— God grant that I mny not seo you again under spoh circumstances.” Alfred left tho court-house, and when lie had a.point where no one could see him. ho stopped. Ho towed his head and remained for • long time- in deep thought. At length ho BY JOHN B. BRATTON. YOl. 43. started up. and having clasped his hands ns though he'hcld something there which he did not wish to escape him, ho started dm With quick steps ho moved, and stopped not until he reached the Urge store of James Weston.— At the door he hesitated but it was only for a moment. 1 He went in. and ho had the good fortune to find Mr. Wetston alone in his coun ting-room; The merchant was n kind, generous looking man, somewhat past fifty* with a cast of coun tenance which marked firmness and decision of character. * » “Ah Marston, — is this you !” the merchant said, ns he noticed the young man. “Yes sir,” answered Alfred in a low tremu lous tone. He hesitated a moment, but his rcsbluliort tame back to him, and with tears in his eyes nnd upon his cheeks, he resumed. “tor God s sake sir. do not spurn me from you. Night before last'l was down—down Oh. God ! I cannot tell you how low. I was carried home. Yesterday I heard an angel speak, and as though a blaze had entered my soul, melted my evil geniusnway. This morn- j ing I have been before a magistrate. I was j cul)td up as a witness. I had been among the i vilest of the vile, and in the haunts of the innr- | dcrcraand ihieves 1 Once I thought I could I take the social glass in safety, but now I think ) so no more. In the glass lurks death, and I death alone, for me. Within the first ghiss | lies all my danger. If I k«ep clear of that. [ then there is no danger for me. And now sir. I have sworn that the accursed poison passes my lips no more. I can die. but my grave shall not close over the remains of a drunkard. Can you take me book here once more ? Oh give me one more trial—one more.” “Alfred Marston !” cried themerchnn’, ta king the young man by the hand, “are you earnest and sincere in this ? Is your resolu tion so Used that you will not swerve ?” •‘I canno swerve, sir.” Alfred replied sol emnly and earnestly, am not a villain sir. I know I have promised before, but I have al ways reserved t,he right to take a social glass with a friend. I have been unwise until now. Let what will come, from this day —let penury and want stare me in the face—let starvation lay my low —let *ngs cover me—and panpeis be hiy mates—from this lime forth, while I hnvethe mind of manhood and its memory left. I will not touch to tny lips a drop of bev erage that intoxicates. I ask you sir, to wit ness my oath, and-whether I come here again or not, do you despise me ns a wretch, beneath all honest contempt, if I break it!” Again the merchant reached forth and grasp ed the young man's hand. There were tears in his eyes, and his lip trembled. “Alfied,” he said, “your place has not been Ailed, for there has been a strange whispering in my soul that I had belter not do it. I have seen your noble wife go by, and I thought that you could not long be a brute with such a companion. ••Oh. sir.” asked the youth, while the tears rolled down his cheeks like ram. “You do not half know that noble being. And 1 struck her. Oh, my God ! when I knew it— when I first realized the whole truth -then it was that tiie blaze inched into my soul! When I heard her—but 1 cannot go on. Only be lieve me—” “I do; Alfred.—T do, come to me \rfTcH' you can. and the old place Is yours. When shall it be ?” J ' “SAy to-morrow.” “Then so hie it. And may God be with you and belp you. Lucy Marston sat by the window of her little kitchen, and she hod become uneasy, when she heard the door open upon the street, and in a moment more that well known step. Her bus ham! entered. He was pale but ho was sober. Her luarl leaped joy fully in her bosom and she turned away to hide the tears she could not keep back. Oh how hard she worked to keep hope within her power. During that day not a word was spoken upon what had passed. Alfred ate some din ner. and at supper time his appetite was good. That night he slept well, and on >h*» following morning ho ate his breakfast, and then prepar ed to go out. He had resolved not yet to speak upon tho one great theme ; but he would not go away and leave that noble being in pain ful doubt nil the clay long. "Alfred will you The wile could say no more. He gazed upon her bowed head, and then he resolved to tell her all. lie opened Ins arms ond pressed her to his bosom, and then in deep, earnest tones—tones which came gusing up from a re- - deemed and bounding heart all turned to sera phic music—he poured forth tho story of his redemption. Not one doubt now lingered in tho wife’s mind. Every word came to her loa ded with heavenly truth, and when the strain had ceased, she Hung her arms widely about her husband’s neck, and sobbed until her heart seemed really to break with the frantic joy that burst into life there. By and by tho husband and wife became more calm, and then Alfred caught his boy in his arms. "My noble child,” ho cried, while his frame shook with emotion, "you have helped to save your father. Yes, yes Freddy, God has an swered your prayer.” And then Alfred Marston went to the s - orc. Ho look his old place once more : lie found that alt tho clerks were generous ond kind--and ere he left the nlnee that night, they had all sworn vyitlt him that henceforth and iorever the social glass should bo banished. Time passed on. and each succeeding day Al fred Marston became more and more* firmly es tablished in tho noble course he had marked out. Many a time when he turned his thoughts upon the memory of the post, did ho wonder how ho could ever have been so wilfully, blind ly foolish, as to trust himself on the brink of the fatal precipice, from whence no answering good can come, but only destruction dark and ,„ l A ' l ' l , ln tlw house where tho dork cloud res ted so long, the sun shines brightly now. Mnimnn, sold Freddy, ns ho clings fondly nround his mother s neck, “won’t I nhvtivs ho good— nlwnys, nlwnys-bconuso father !s so very good to mo JV. F. Ledger. (D*“Why, Sambo, how block you nro !" said a gentleman, the other day, to a negro waiter at a hotel, "how in tho name of wonder did you get so black?" "why, look a here, mnssa, do reason am dla —du day dis child was born dcr was an o cllpsc." " Ebony received a shilling for his satisfactory explanation, and after grinning thanks, con* tinned: "I tell you what it is, massa, dis nigga may bo block, but he ain’t green, no how." [H7**‘How arc you, priest?” said the stran ger. ‘How arc you, Democrat?’ said tho parson. ‘How do you know that 1 am a Democrat?' said one. ‘How do you know that I am a priest?’ said the other. ‘I knew you to bo n priest by your dress, 1 said tho stranger. *1 knew you to bo a Democrat by your orf* dress, 1 said tho parsoa. Booth, the Actor. A friend (ells us an anccdole of Booth, (ho great trndgedian, which we do not recollect having seen in print. It occurred in the pnlmv days of his fame, before the sparkle of his black eye had been dimmed by that bane of genius, stiong drink. Booth and several friends had boon invited lo : dine with an old gentleman in Baltimore of l distinguished kindness, urbanity and piety.— I The host, though disapproving of theatresa..d thealre-going, had heard so much of Booth’s remarkable powers, that curiosity to sec the man had in this instance, overcome all his sera pics and prejudices. After the entertainment was over, lamps lighted, and thecompany sea led in the drawing-room, some 6ne requested Booth, ns a particular favor, and all Imcstnt would doubtless appiccirttc. lo rend aloud the Lord’s Piaycr. Epjth expreseed his willingness ' * to a (lord them this gratification, and' all eyes I | were lurned expectantly upoh hihi., Booth rose ( slowly and reverentially Horn Ins chair. It' I was wondcilnl lo watch UlO play of emotion j J that convulsed liis countenance, lie became 1 ; pale, and bis eyes, turned trembling,upwards. ) | were wet with tears. As yet he bail not spo- • I ken. The silence could be felt. It became ab-' 1 solutcly painful. until the spell was broken ns I if by an electric shock ns his rich-trned voice, i | from his while lips, syllabled forth, “Our futh ! <?r, who art in heaven,” eel., with pathos and perfect solemnity. j He finished. The silence continued.' Not n voice was heard or muscle moved in his wrapt 1 audience, until from a remote corner of the room a subdued sob was heard, and the old gentleman (their host) stepped forward will slreanmifc eyes and tottering (mine, und seized Booth by (lie hand. ‘ Sir.” said ho in broken • acreus, ••you have nflbnbil me a pleusuic for which tny whole future life will feel grateful. I am an old man, and every day. from my boyhood lo the present lime. I thought I had j repealed the Lord’s Prayer, but never beard it before, never.” “You are right.” replied* ■Booth: “to rend that prayer as it should be j read, has cost me the severest si ml v and labor 1 for thirty years, and I am far from being satis fied with my remit ring ol that wonderful prn -1 dnetion. Hardly one person m ten thousand who comprehends how much beauty, tender ness and grandeur can be condensed in a space so small and words so simple. That prayer of itself sufficiently illustrates the truth of tic Bible, and stamps its seal of divinity.” So great Was the tiled produced v says our informant who was present. ) that emm-r.-ation was sustained but a short lime longer, in sub dued monosyllables.— Jios'on Gozctlc. AN ARABIAN >STOBf. - ■ ’ 1 ' * ) It is related that a younfcman of graceful shiture nnd beautiful counl£qfthc<“.'resided.for jimily, nt'Bagdad. where bii.-was'hiost distin j gmshed nmong lhe sons of ihrb merchants. One | day. while he ml in his shop. a lovely damsel i approached: having lodkcd lil/bikn she perceived written over his door these : “There is no cunning equal to that of fben, since it sur* posses the conning of 'women,” ' “By my Veil,' swear,” said she, “this man shall be the sport df ferifalo cunning, and ho slmll change hib insoriptitm*” ‘ On the next* dhy-she relf&TUtl most richly 1 dressed. ntu*ndcd' uy-inany .tlavcsi : and unctr pretence of mirchbfiing somc.arliclcs, she seated herself in 1 they«u‘ng*ffiftTi*Hmop.' “Yon have "the graceful ness of my persons cfip\Rnyi)dne presume to of (lrm tlmt I am hurapbaekttbt” ' The young nm^WftS'festpititcd. *•1 appcal Blic; ''whether I am not showed, him hi r ty equalled Ihe tntion in its fourteenth night, saying, “Arc these features marked with small-pox,? or.’who shall da’*b insinuate that I have lost the-use of'OPC eycr* ' The mcrchant lic»* reasons for thus exposing to, his many charms, gem-rally concealed ■ under a (veil. ••Sir,” said she. “t am tendered miserable through the tyranny of inVTfather, a sordid, avenemus man. who, thougnjkbotinding in rich- j cm. will not expend lluhSmplJeat trifle to estab-' hsh me in matrimony.”-- iV • > 1 ••Who is thy father the mer chant. , • ;V: | ••lie is the Gi and-Carthy, V replied she, then departed. p; [ The young man in;a, transport of astonish- | menl and love, shut up thc'jloors of his shop, and hastened to thq iriburttl, where he found the magistrate. >- m .[ • I am come, sir,” exclqimpd ho, “to demand in marriage your daughter, of whom I am en-1 ttmouii." 1 ,f * | ‘ She is not worth}’,”.replied the judge, “of so handsome nnd so aniiobh|a male." • \ ‘•She pleases mo,”BD d kl|« young man; “do ' not oppose my wishes.” y I A contract tyos immediately Concluded ; the merchant agreed to pay flvp purses before the nuptials. ant),settle flftecn.ob a jointure. The I father still represented how unsuitable the bride t would prove,,but,thcyoung man insisted that: the nuptials should bo celebrated without delay, ! and on the next,night he WAS admilicd to the IHR OsTßicif. The cry of the ostrich so chamber of his bride.' But* when he had re-I greatly resembles that of n lion as occasionally ; moved the veil that.covered her face, lie beheld ! Ito deceive even the natives. It i» usually heard j such an object! l Moy,thC'Cord defend us from i early m the morning, and at times, also, at ( ih c sight of such .ugllnCs^l—for in her was' I night. Ihc strength of the ostrich in cnor- compnsed everything completely hideous. *ilc ; mous. A single blow from its gigantic fool (it passed-thewight as if he had been in the prison nlnays strikes forward) is snfilcicnjt to pros- of Davlem; among illy monstrous demons, trate. nay. to kill many beasts of prey, such as At dawn of day ho repaired to a balh r , and the hyena, the pansier, the wild dug, the jack- having performed' his Ablutions, ho retired to , all. ami others. Ihe ostrich is exceedingly his shop, and refreshed himself with coffee; swift of foot under ordinary circumstances many of lus acquaintances passing By. amused ~cct. . . themselves with jokes respiting the charms of what 1 fihcscorneth the horse nnd |uh rider.” On spd- 1 At length’ the IdvSV iSfr of fferWHtr- hit±i ciaJ occasions, and for a, abort; distance. Itsr contrived this aflalr appeared before him." She speed is truly nmrvtlnus—pcrhaps much -was more richly and voluptuously ornamented less than n ni'le and h rialf n toinOtc. Fts fectj limn on the preceding interview ;«o that o appear haKliy'td touch tli£ ground;,the length crowd of people stopped‘in tho street to gouc between each stride.ls not.unfreqiumliy twelve lon her. to fotuteen feet. Indeed, if we’-'nro to credit | “May this day,” said she. “be auspicious to tho testimony of Mr. Adamson, who says he : thee, my dear Olucddju; ma} God protect and witnessed the fact in Senegal, such is the rnpid- bless thee 1” ily ami muscular power of the os-rich, that ! The young man’s face expressed the Badness i'vtn with two men mounted on his bark, he j of his heart will outstrip an English horse in apeed ! The , “How have I injured thee.” replied ho. “that ostrich, moreover, us loug-wimlvd. if wc may ; thou hast m this maimer made me the object yf, use 1 lie expression: so that it is a work of lime , thy sport V to exhaust the bird. The food of the ostrich. “From thee.” answered the beautiful stran m its w.ld slut*, comi-.tR of seeds, lops, and • gcr, “1 have not experienced any affront, but buls of various 8 ribs nnd oi her plants : but ] if thou wilt reverse tho-inscription over thy it is d.lllculi to conceive bow u can live at nil. I will engage to extricate thee fiom every for one not unficquemly meets wuh it in re- ' ddllculty.” gions apparently destitute of vegetation of any j The merchant instantly despatched a slave, kind. Anderson « Africa. j desiring him to procure l from a certain writer A I,AZT C^B, — ■! want to Know,’ bawled out SpeargrasT ‘if that boy hamtgot through with them talers yet f ’ ‘Snakes alive ” responded the old woman, ‘you had better be lookin’ artcr that Jabez— here it’s night, and he hnint been and brought a single of them talers from the Held this bles sed day.’ ‘Tew bad,’ continued the old man: ‘I bet he haiul dug a bushel of potatoes this day. and I strictly charged him to be spry, and dig ond carry in fen bushels before sun-down, or l‘d give him the ull-fircdest walloping he ever had in his born days.’ With this piece of eloquence bunting on his lips. Spenrgrass look down a wattle and start ed fur the tatcr-Held. There stood Jabez—a great loblolly of a slab-sided, do-less looking whelp, digging for dear life, as though he was afraid dark would,catch him before he got the last potato out of the ground. ‘Why on earth,’ bawls out the old man. ainl you been and brought in them talers? Where are they? How many have you dug?’ •Well, dad. 1 responded the hopeful, trying to wipe the sweet fiom his brow, and straighten ing up his long lazy body perpendicular with the shovel handle. ‘l’ve been tuckerin’ away like sin nil the afternoon— 1 •Well. dad. there's one! I were a snaken 1 out another when you come, and ns soon as I tip the other out, lherc'll be just three of 'em.' Old Spenrgrass went in 'lemons’, and the way ho let loose with his wattle and JaLs z cut loose for home, was a lino illustration for the comic almanac. Boots in Kushia.— Tho Hussions arc essen tially a hoofed people. The commonalty do not understand shoes at all { and wlieit thoy have no boots, either go barefooted, or else thrust their extremities Into atrocious canoes of plaited blrch-bark. Next to a handsome knkonohnik or Ham head-dress, the nrtfclo’of costume most coveted by a peasant woman Is a pair of full sized men’s boots. One of the prettiest young English ladies 1 over knew used to wear Well ington boots, and had a way of tapping their polished shies, with her parasol handle (hat well nigh drovo mo distracted; but let that pass—a booted Hussion fcnmlo is quite another sort of persopago. In the streets of St. Petersburg, the „<*elgn of the log,” or a huge jack-boot with ; a,tremendous spur, all painted (ho brightest scarlet, is to bo found on legions of houses— ,;«.u Cp » rm . no, l Bold J ora wottr mighty hpo(s,.iis our imllyc brigade, pftor Alma, know full well; and jon ma|co a morning call on.a Hessian gen- p-Henry VTH.Rcnt for Thomas Moore onoc when ho was attending; puhlio worHhjp., «| r Thomas returned answer, that ho woqld wait upon tho King when ho had drat performed his service to tho King of Kings. ll (CT* "Ah, my friend whore have you been fpr a week back ?” ' ■ ■ * “For a weak back ? I ImVc Hot been troub led with a weak back. I thank you, 11 “No, no ! where have been long bpek ? M *'Dbn*t you call mo long book, you scoun drel 111I 11 - '}-n “OUU COUNTRY-MAT IT ALWAYS BB RIQIIi—BUT RIGHT OR IYJtONG, OUR .COUNTRY*” CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY I!); 1857. FEMALE STRATAGEM. '' |an mstcnpnon in lui«fa Df blue and gold, ex ; prosing ; "Tberc is no cunning equal to that ■ of women, since u surpasses and confounds that j of men." j The inscription was soon traced, and brought 1 by the slave to the master, who placed it over . the door of the shop. [ Then, by the advice of the fair damsel, he ) went to a place near the citadel, where he con j ceru-d with the public, dancers, boar-leaders, and those who exhibit tho tricks of monkeys— I in consequence of which, while he was silting the next morning, drinking' cofleo with his fa ther-1n law, the Cadhy, they came before him with a thousand congratulations, styling him cousin; the 3 oung merchant immediately scat tered among them handful of money’. The judge was astonished, and asked several questions. •My father," said the young man. “was a leader of bears ami monkeys; such has been the profession uf my lainily : bu‘ having ac quired some wealth, jvo now carry on the busi ness of merchants with considerable success." “But dost thou still,” asked tluS judge, “be- • long lo tins company of bear-leaders?" • I must not renounce my-family,** replied the young mau, “for the sake of thy daugh ter." ••But it i.s not fit," exclaimed the judge, “that such persons should espouse the daugh ter of one who, seated on a carpet, pronounces the decision of law ; one whose pedigree as cends even lo the relations of our prophet." • But my good father-in law." said the mer chant, “recollect that thy daughter Is my legi linialu wife: that I value each hair of her head ns much as a thousand lives : that for all the kingdoms of die world I would not consent to bo separated fiom her ” At last, howcvir. a divorce was formally ex ecuted; the money wliioji Iho merchant had set tled was returned: and he having applied to the parents of her who had contrived this strata •gem. obtained the lovely damsel in marriage, and during a long succession of years enjoyed the utmost conjugal felicity. A Cj.r.in Rku>.—A shrewd countryman was in New York the other day, gawky, uncouth, and innocent enough in appearance, but in re ality with his eye-teeth cut. Passing up Cha tham street, through the Jew's quarter, he >v&s continually encountered with imporlupllics to hit}'. From almost every store some one rush ed out, in accordance with tlio annoying' cus tom of that street, to seize upon and try to force him to buy/ At Inst & dirty looking fel low caught him by the arm, and clamorously urged him to become a customer. “Ilavo yon got any shirts?” inquired the countryman, with a very innocent look. ' *‘A splendid assortment, sir. Step lu «lr.— Every price, sir. and every style. Tho cheap est in the street, sir.” r “Are they clean?” “To be wire sir. step in sir." “Then.” resumed the countryman with per fect gravity, “put ono on, for you need it. Tho rage of the shopkeeper may bo imagin ed, ns the countryman, turning upon his heel, quietly pursued his way. Byinj'lTiffc to'lier Ilnsbant}. The following most;touching fragment of a Letter from q Dying Wife to her Husband, was found by him, some, months after her death, between .the IcAvps of a religious volume, which she wap ; sfr/r fond of perusing. The letter, which was literally dim with tear-marks, was written long before the husband was aware that .the,grasp of a fatal disease had fastened upon the lovely form of his wife',, who died at the early age of nineteen: ) ; .When this’ shall reach your eye, dear ,Q—■■ ■ , ( spme -day when .ypu arc turning over the relics of the past, I shall have passed away forever, iitid the cold white stone will be keep-, ing its lonely watch over lips you ; ha>e sb oftch pressed, and the sod will be growing green that shall hide forevd* from your sight the dust of] one Who has so often nestled close to your warm ; hearts For many long and sleepless nights,, when all my thoughts were at rest, I have I wrestled wjth the consciousness of approaching,! death, until at Inst it has'forced Itself on fhyl mind; and although to you and to 61h*ra it | might How seem but the nervous imagination of I a girl, yet, dear G~-—, it is so! Many weary | hours hayc I passed in the endeavor to rccon-: cilc myself ib leaving you, whom’ I lovj? So well, I and this bright world of sunshine and beauty; and hard indeed it is to struggloon silently and alone, with the sure conviction that I nm about to leave all lorcvrr and go down alone into the dark valley ! “ But I. know in whom I have trusted.” and, leaning upon His arm, '■ I fear no evil.” Don’t hlnme me for keeping even all i his from you. How could T sbbject you. of all ot hers, to such sorrow as I feel at parting, when time will so soon make it apparent to you ? I could have wished to live, if only to be at your side when your time shall come, and pillowing your head upon my breast; wipe the death damps ftom your brott’l and usher your depart ing spirit into its Maker’a presence. embalmed in woman’s holiest prayer. Bui it is not to be so—and I submit. Yours is the privilege of watching, through long and dreary nights, for, the spirit’s fml flight, and of tronsfening rnv sink head I rum your breast to my Saviour's ’ bosom! And you shall share my last thought; I the Inst faint pressure of the hand, and the last * feeble kiss shall be yours: and even when flash" 1 and heart shall have failed mo. my eye shall 1 rest on yours until glazed by death : and our spirits shall hold one fast communion, until gently fading from my view—the Inst of earth —you shall mingle with the first bright glimp ses of the unfading glories of that better world, where partings are unknown. Will do I know the spot, dcnr*G . where y»»u will lay me; often have we siond by the place, and ns we watched the mellow sunset, as it glanced in quivering flashes through the leaves, and bur nished the grassy mounds around us with stripes of gold, each perhaps has thought that one of us would come ofone ; and whichever it ought bo, your name would be on the stone We loved the Spot—and I know you’ll love it none the less when you see the same quiet sup light-and gentle 'brccyes ploy among the grass that grows over .your Majii’a grave. 1 know you’ll go often alone there, when I am laid there, arid psspim_ahflU. be With'you then, and whim per among l the waving 'branches t-v Jam not tost but gone before / V Trnjllns lu ProTfilencc, John Phcunix. of I lie California Pioneer, is n T. C. lie gets up some of 1 the befit things ofi the day. Here is One of Ids last eflorts: I ‘ Down in the old plantation.” writes an esteemed friend, “a planter and his favorite' slave. Zip. stood upon the piazza of the Man ( siew House, paring at the weather. A furious storm of rain was raging, accompanied by thun der and lightning. “Mnssn,” said Zip, '•hadn’t I belter go and drive in,de entile?” “Oh. no, they’ll do well enough ; the storm will soon be over, and a Utile rain won’t hurt them, any way-" “But, Mnssa, dose fine horses under dc trees: too bhd to leab dem out in de rain. I go and drlbo dem in." '•You need not (rouble yourself. Zip; they areal! right: we’ll trust them to Providence. But you had better come out of/thc rain your self.’' So saying. Ida master turned and wrnt into the house. Zip, protesting against such a trus tee, and cxlrcimly anxious for the fate of the horses, followed hia example; but as soon as the storm was over, ho took a slroll over the form, to estimate the extent of the damages— and there, directly tinder the Itts, where they had boen standing, he found both the horses dead: they had been struck by lightning. Half in triumph, half in dole, he ran to the house, and exclaimed: Mnssa what T tell you?" “What's the matter, Zip?” “Did’nt I tell you so?” ■Yes. but what's tho matter?” “Dare's bofe dc horses dead fls stones —struck by lightnm’. You trust to Providence! You’d better a trusted old Zip !" Tint Gold Ftsn.—Among the many mem bers of the animal kingdom from foreign parts which have been fully domesticated here, may he enumerated the gold fish, which are so fre quently seen in ornamental fountains and reser voirs. These beautiful fish arc natives to the Southern districts of Chinn, ant! generally speaking, are identical with the English carp. The first specimens seen in this country wore brought from England, wc arc told, by Mr. Robert Morris, who successfully bred them in sheltered ponds, after which ho introduced them into the Schuylkill. Tlioro arc plenty of these, fish now in the rivyr nlKivo tho dam at this city, and many of tho creeks In tho Interi or contain them in considerable quantities. So prolific arc they, that a pond soon becomes stocked oftcr the introduction of a few to com mence the colony. The naturalist Pennant, Informs ns that the gold flrsh wan first brought to England, in 1001. but was not generally known until 1728. It is completely naturalized, loth here and ip Europe ; and in Portugal, largo quantities of them are raised and exported in trading vessels, making an article of considerable oommcroc.~ In tho still, spring-fed ponds of Long Island, gold fish have been abundant ever since wo can remember; and they arc nnw constantly hawked about tho streets of New York, by urchins, who got for them from six to ten oents each.— Phila. Evening Journal. ‘Mibundbrstandino. The other day thb conductor of a train on a New York Railroad discovered an Irishman in the car, soon after starting from Rome, and demanded his fare.— : Pat declared he had no, money. Tho conduc tor, after lecturing! him, toid him to leave at tno first stopping-place, not far distant. Ac cordingly, Pat was one of the first to get oil at tho next station. But judgoof tho conductor’s surprise ond wrglh to find him aboard when fairly under way. 1 “bid I not tell you to get Ofi?” “And sure I did.” ape you hero again ?” “And sure, did you not say, all Bboard ?” AT 82,00 PER ANNUM Abstract of the Report of the Superintendent of Common Schools for 1866. During the school year the aggregate num ber or public schools in the State, outside of Philadelphia, was 10.007. being an increase of 228 ever the previous year, and an increase of , 1190 over the tofal of the year just prior to the , enactment of the school law of May Blh, 1854. The average time during which the schools were ' Kept open was five months and twelve days, : being on increase of two days over the tola] of , last- year, and of twelve days over the year 1853. The'numbcr of teachers in the common schools’of the State, exclusive of Philadelphia, was 12.357. b ing an increase of 214 over last year, and of 1227 over the year 1853. Inclu ding the city of Philadelphia, the total number 6f teachers was 13.327, of whom 8016 were imales. and 5312 females. The average salary of each male teacher per month was 623 29. being an increase per month over last year, of, 99 r i cents, and of $4 04i per month over the I year 1853. The avciagc salary of each female | teacher per month was £l5 85. being an in ! crease of 95 cents per month over Inst vear, ’and of £3 82 per month over the year 1853. The whole number Of scholars in‘the public schools, exclusive of Philadelphia, was 631.720, and including Philadelphia. 58G.743. The for* mer aggregate shows a decrease of 7290 since Inst year, and an increase of 57.171 over the year 1853. The decrease last year was occa sioned by the almost unprcceacnicd severity of lost winter, which compelled many pnpds to re main at home, and. on account of the snow* drifts, stopped some schools entirely. The County Superintendents suffered severely from the intense cold during that period, and one of them narrowly escaped freezing to death. Still tljese figures show a large improvement over the condition of things prior to the passage of the new school law The average cost of leaching each scholar per month is SI cents, exclusive of the building expenditure, or G2i Cents including It. The amount expended during the year for purcha sing ground, building school-houses, repairs, &0., was 3332.125 27. being an increase over last year of $05,026 Gl. and over the year 1853 of $lB4 008 04, and increase of 33G.G74 98 over the highest amount in any foimcr year m the history of the school system. The amount expendtd for tuition, fuel and contin gencies, outside of Philadelphia, was SI .280.- 345 61. being an increase 0f5134.390 over last year, end $470,443 G 7 over 1853. Including Philadelphia (he whole amount for the State was 51.895.454 01. With the building expen ses mentioned above, the total school expendi ture for the yiar was 52.227.579 98. The average rale of local taxation for school purpo ses. os calculated from the returns in 1257 dis tricts. Illve-sevrnths of Iho whole number.) is live mills and live-hundredths upon the dollar. In forty-three counties, the number of school houses reported as sufficiently well adapted to the purpose or grade ot school for which they me intended, is 1404; those which arc. not in their present condition, so adapted, but ore so susceptible of alteration and improvement as to become so, 32G2 ; those which ore. in all re spects. or in any essential particular, unfit to be the training places of youth, 2258. Twenty* . one counties report the number of school-hod* Sts with furniture in tho first doss at 545: number in the second class at-1958: in the third 1352.. Twenty-seven cobnUc? report (ho graded schools at 600': number lofi ftehoola in .which any successful attempt at classification has been made. 2205; (hose in which there is neither grading of the schools, nor classification of the pupils 1044. Thirty eight counties report the teachers agus thus: Under seventeen years 302 : between seventeen and twenty one years. 2020: between twenty , one and twenty five. 2480; between twenty-five | and thirty, 1200; between tinny and forty, j 908 ; between forty and fifty, 323 ; over fifty years of nge. 191. In tbirly-two counties, many of them tmrrter counties, the number of teachers born in Pennsylvania is 5010 ; and of and those bern out of Pennsylvania. 843. Thirty-four counties report the number of teachers who have taught less than one year. 1793 ; who have taught between one and three years. 2035 ; who have taught between three and six years. 1058: who have taught between six and ten years, 012; who have (aught be tween ten and twenty years, 389 ; who have tought over twenty years. 123. In thirty-one countic.A 2201 teachers havorrad hooks and pe riodicals dn leaching, and 32-11 have not. In thiny-lwo counties there were 2735 of the teachers who intend to make leaching a perma nent business, and 3049 who do not. Outside I of Philadelphia not two per rent Of all the teachers are graduates of colleges or normal schools. Not iwemy per cent, aro graduates of academies or private seminaries. About twenty-five per cent, have had the benefit of tuition for brief periods in academics and pri vate schools, ami nlmul fifty per cent, have re ceived their educational training in the common schools of their respective neighborhoods. Du ngn the Inst two )eors. under the inllucncc of the County Superintendents, and the stimulus of the graded temporary certificate, vast im provement has been made on the part of teach ers by private study and attendance upon vol untary teachers' institutes. In forty-three' counties the number of teachers who £ivc full satisfaction In their respective grades is 2370 ; those who may he called medium teachers, and may be employed till better cfln be procured, 3000: the number whose services hod belter he dispensed With, 2006. These unqualified teach ers ore tolerated in the schools simply because their places cannot as yet he supplied with such as are competent, ami to reject them would be to close the schrols entirely. Hut in this re spect the schools are not half so badly oft as they were two years ago. The County Super intendents have wrought marvelous changes In many respects. — Warrivfturg Telegraph. Thus as Piiraciiino.—The following, rela tive to irregular attendance at school from the Marysville Tribune, is true as preaching: “The school rolls will, ns a general rule, show what boys nro to bo in the future ; smo kers, Ppitlcrs. loafers, oiid beer-drinkers. The boy who can and will not allend school regu larly, is already on incipient vagabond or crim inal, and unless parents give iho most careful attention to such, (hoy take to the paths of fol ly and crime as sure as water runs down hill." Anecdote or lUv.Dn.DAßNEs.—Being somo (linos (ns eyon younger men might be) Inclined to sleep a llttlo during the sermon, n friend who was with him in his pew ono Sunday lately, hnv. Ing joked him an his having nodded now and then, Barnes Insisted (lint ho had been awake all (ho tlmo. “Well, then,’* said bis friend, /‘can you tell mo what (lie sermon was about?** “Vcm, I can,” ho 'answered j “It was about an hour and a half too longl" A Whim among Women.—Some difficulty has been experienced in endeavoring to account for the fact that (lie less rational portion of la dies wlio nro not very young, generally msko a mystery of their age. Ono can only suppose they wish their ago to bo regaled h« uncertain by reason of a dislike to be considered of a cer tain age. flints upon Beiiltfl—Clotting and; Cold Eolti‘ Goldd and coughs, catarrhs and croups, stiff muscles and neuralgic Jaws, aching teeth and rbeiimatic twinges, l with, frequent inflatnations and occasional fevers, are among the calamities usually looked for in “cold, frost/ weather/*— Indeed, the “ dreary lvinte^ ,, season, aij bhp fonrtH of tile year finest unjustly kenned, is fo many minds suggestive of ffozed toes and soro nosea, with a long catalogue of-intermediate nmludies, among which are influenzas, pneumo nias, Joint racking rhenms—all brofachial dlfll culiiea. \ •• • And some doctors, as well as many people* aro too apt to suppose that the prevention for oil these ills and ailings is to be found wholly In the quantity of the clothing wo surround our* solves with. The Boston Medical Journal, in a late nunt ber on the liygleno of Dress, making some JudU I cions observations on (ho errors of sudden end improper exposures, and advises thick shoes, heavy cloth, abundant turn, and plenty of gar ments, as the panacea in the matter of keeping the animal temperature above thodold catching point. ; . ’ But there is a physiological limit to dress as NO. 36. well as to every other hygienic ogent or appli ance. « Bundling up” is all very .well and very necessary to a certain extent; yet excess of clothing is an ovil, and is really one of the most frequent causes of a,feeble, sensitive, and mor bidly susceptible skin,and consequent suffering from exposure to sudden orgrbat alterations of temperature. •- t •' --• ' •' Of equal importance with tho antount of onfr clolhiug Is the quality ot our blood, andjho stato of its circulation. Tho skin Is the-.great regulator of animal heat, and one of tho princ!** pal organs of flood purification.. Horicty If wo over-clotho tho body, we certainly IcSHcri.itit power of self-protection, and in the end induce the very evil it is the object of clothing to pro* vent. Instead of “frilling on” all the clothing wb can endurb, a much better rule is to dress Just a* lightly us we can without actual discomfort. The life principle within is our main protec tion against the elements without; and tp~hayo the best protection under all circumstances of heat and cold, and oftheir ever-varying vtcissl- I turies, we must keep the vitality in free and vig orous play. The most prevalent error In dress Is too little about the loot, and too much about the neck: and chest. Since heavy neckerchiefs hnVo boon'ln fashion, throat ails and quinsies bare multiplied correspondingly. We have known ninny perr sons entirely.cured of a tendency to frequent attacks of quinsy by merely washing the neefe each morning in cold water, and substituting a light ribbon around the siilrtcoliarfor the ropu dialed heavy stock or thick cravat. How They Correct 'Em in Sing Sing Prlsori. There are various modes of punishing diso bedient and refractory convicts. Tho first of. fence, If not too serious, is forgiven upon prtf tnises of good behaviour. For slight offbnee* convicts are deprived of tobacco, or of dinner, or of slight little privileges usually granted them. For more serious offences they arolockb' oi op in a dungeon for a night or day or and perhops fed on broad and water. Tho usn- * * al severe punishment is tho shower-bath. A correspondent of tbo New York Tribune des cribes it : << While silting in the chapluiu’s office, which is divided from tho wash room by a partition, tho oars of (ho writer were saluted by cries of &gony, moans, entreaties, and promises from convict undergoing the punishment of tboshoVr*’ cr-bath. Going into (bo wash-room with ono of tho officers there were found, as tho presiding spirits of (ho apartment, throe or four degree*, who do tho washing of the prison. Tho fore man of (hem is a stalwart negro who officiate? in tho administration of tho bath. In ease'a convict objects to exposing himself to the pro cess, the negro unccrimomnusly thrusts him id the necessary attitude and fastens him there.— Tho hath apparatus was dripping wet when wo looked at it. It is situated In ono corner of life wash-room and is open in front. It consists of a sent with n hole In It, upon which tho robollAuS convict, divested of all bis clothing except hi* shirt, is mado to sit. Ho is there His ankles arc made fast through holes.in plonk* In tho floor. The wrists are fastened onoifher 1 side in tho some manner. A sort of i'treoden collar, Qfc.lbo neck ia tbo same sty lev . A wooden frouffh ( fs fhcn placed .around tho pfcck», wh]ch catches the wafer that Scatters to fhd distance of six Inches about Ibo'codvfcta hoiidLaDdlt runs down bis neck and body. Tho inter 1* then let on to his bond with a fall of about ibnf feet, in copious showers, to tho groat distress of tiio cuo viot. ’ It never fails of cooling their tem per and reducing them to submission—.for • while at least. About ono convict ner day, btf an average, receives this punishment. Tho yoko, an iron instrument, ' ty-ti'u pounds, is sometimes fastened around th?'- shouldiTs, and tiio wrists arc fastened, ultU.ttio arms extended, to tho ends of the ybktC TbU % is very puinlul punishment. Another ptlniSh-. , ' ment is that of «tho crown.’ It is formed of Irori ’ bands, shaped something like a bishop’s dap.— , It is worn day and night by prisoners who nro punished with it, and they ore obliged to cat and sleep with their heads thus encased/’ Spiritualism in Pennsylvania In tho city of Carbomlalo, a few years since, Rov. Mr. Hnrvcyi tho Methodist minister onco in charge of (ho congregation lb that place, be came infected with tho wild and visionary no tions, so prevalent at this day, that there aro actual communications with tho spirits of (ho deceased now had, through tho agency of vari. I oua persons called mediums. Mr. llacvoy be came a teacher in (ho Wyoming institute, and in consequence of funning wild upon (ho sulject I of spirit communications, liu was cast out of office; and persisting in his error, ho was depo sed from tUu ministry, 110 then attempted to preach on ids own account, connecting his reli gions services with spirit rupplngs. Quito a number of persons in that region were carried away with the excitement. Some of (ho most devoted members of the Methodist churches be came advocates and practitioners of this species of demonology. But, recently, one after another baVtf become convinced of (ho error of (hvfr wnysj and final ly, Mr. Harvey and Ida principal come out in n card, and owned their conviction (hat (lie whole is nn lm|HJS(nro opd a dolnslon. Ono poor girl, who sows for n livelihood, was perannded that she was (he spiritual wilo of (ho groat Napoleon. The spirits told her that she must dross more richly and elegantly; and sho who had been most demure and plain, appealed in the street, dressed lit tho most gaudy colors, to tiio great astonishment of her friends, Slid was about starling with Mr. HurVoy afld others lor Franco, when the ulf.dr exploded, having boon told by (ho spirits that shOinual not go there. An Eabteux Legend.— Tlloro is in Afghanis tan, a country abounding In legends, ono to this effect: That Satan entered Into a compact with tho people to teach them to cultivate the earth and bring forth its fruits, the produce, to bo dK vidod between (hem. The proposition being acceded to, tbo soil was prepared by tho laboruf of tho people. Safari then produced (ha scad, which in due course of time came up tomtit's, turnips, ami other vegetables, the value of- Which lies bem-aih tho ground. When thq time of di. vision arrived, tho Ignorant people (ook that which was above (ho surface. Discdyering IhOlr mistake, they complained loudly.- Satan heard their lamenting* with' composure'. And then to soothe (hum, blandly protnlscjd that ft should btf different next year, Tho people were to take all (he produce bonoath tho soil, and, as Satan (his tlmo sowed wheat, liarloy, and such like gralh, ho obtained alt tho profits, and they worn tricked Again, having nothing for fhelr share but useless roots. __ This leuond has a moral. Satan never sow* nny seed In (ho tinman heart that bflrtgrt forth any IVull by (ho growth of which ony but him self la the gainer. ; frriio (hat follows nature, la never out <ff his way. Nature fa sometimes: subdued; but seldom extinguished —Lord Bacon. . ( CC7~ There Is n 6 oourio of Ufa so weak, M that which is carried cm by exact rule and dis cipline. The least dobanch to sufep a toAu will nilu him.—iHoafciigne.' -
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers