AMERICAIf/VOLUIfTEEII.
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;'TE.RiM,S
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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.' -