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I WEEP BESIDE THY GRAVE, MOTHER.
I wept beside thy grave mother,
My heart is weeping.still,
And fondly lingers near thy tomb.
Oh yonder lonely hill; -
I did not hoar thy parting words,
; I did not See thee die;
Cut thy Inst message came to me,
When death was hovering nigh.
I’ve been a truant boy, Mother,
And caused thee many a pain,
Cut I would heal the wound I made,
, Cbiild’sf thou return again;
nliy.bdj'lah heart'wbttld not obey
■Thy mild commands, 1-know,'
And o’er my waywardness to thee,
■ My:tears wilt ever flow.
i was thy cherished pet. Mother,
Thy love was fond.and true,
Thy kisses oft bedew'd my cheek,
Erp manhood’s care I know;
Affliction’s child from infancy.
Ye loved me but the nioro,
Arid o’er rne wept ns oft ye tho’t,
Life’s pilgrimage was o’er.
I’ve wandered hinny a league, Mother,
From whore we used.to dwell;
No cherished' one is near mo now, -
Of those ! loved so well;,
But oft my, weeping heart returns
Across tho.foaming sea, ,
To .where thy precious relics lie,
Arid there it weeps for thee;
LIVE FOR SOMETHING.
Live for something; be riot idle—
Look about thee for employ;
Sit riot down to useless'dreaming—
' Labor is the sweetest joy.
Folded hands are ever weary.
Selfish hearts are never gay.
Life for thee hath iriiiriy duties—
Active be; then, while you may.
Scatter blessings in thy pathway! l _
Gentle words and cheering smiles
. Belter are than gold and silver,
. . With their gjief dispelling wiles,
As the pleasant.sunshine (alle’th v’
Ever’on the grateful earth,
, So letr sympathy arid kindness
Gladden well the darkened eartti.
Hearts flint are.qppressed and weary;
Drop the tear of sympathy,
Whisper words of hope and comfort,
Give, and thy reward shall be .
Joy unto thy’soul returning ■
Prom this perfect fountain-head;
Freely, as thou freely givest.
Shall the grateful light be shod. ' :
—jyi : ;
The Old Man’s Story.
* BY CHARLES DICKENS.
( A chilled, slow, earthly, fixed-old man. A
“ (Cadaverous old man of measured speech.. An
old man who seemed as unable to wink, as if
hisjcyclids had been nailed to his forehead. An
oldjnan whose eyes—two spots of fire—had iio
motthriolion, than if they had been connected
with the back part of his skull by screws driven,
through it, and rivotted and bolted outside,
among his gray hairs, - , r „ ,
The.night had turned so cold, to Mr; Good
; child’s sensations,, that ho shivered; lie re
marked lighll'y.-and hall apologetically, •• 1
think somebody isSvalUing over my grave. ’
, “ No,” said the wierfl old man, ■•* there is no
One there.” . ■
Mr, Goodchild looked at Idle, but Idle lay
'With f)is head.enwreathed in smoke.
- * •* No one there?” said Goodchild.
“There is no one at your gratfe, I assure
you,” said the old man.
■ ' He had come in and shut the door, and he
now sat down. He did not bend himself to sit,
4a other people do, but seemed to sink bolt up
’ right, as if in water; until the chair stopped
, “ My friend, Mr. Idle,” said Goodchild, ex
) i tremely anxious to introduce a third person into
the"conversation. ■ .
“I am,” said the old man, without looking
at him, “ at Mr.Adle’s serviced”
• : “If you are an old inhabitant of this place,”
-franc/s Goodchild resumed ““ V
’;-“Ycs.”
“ Perhaps you can decide a point my' friend
and I were in doubt upon, this morning. "They
hang^ondemned criminals at the castle, I be,
J believe so.!’said the old mart.
i “ Arc i heir faces, turned towards that noble
prpspect ?”
“ Your face is turned,” replied the old man,
“ to the castle wall. ■ When you are tied up,
you see its stones expanding and contracting
Violently, and. a similar expansion and contrac
tion seems to take place in .your own head and,
breast. Then, there is a rush of fire and earth
quake, and the caslltT&prings into the air, and
yon tumbld down a precipice.”
. 'His cravat appeared to trouble him. He put
his hand' to his throat, and moved his neck from
.side to side.. Ho was an old man of a swollen
characterof face, and his hose was immovcably
hitched up on-one side, ns if bv a little hook in
serted in, that , nostril. Mr. Goodchild felt ex
ceedingly .uncomfortable, and began to think
the night was hot, and not cold.
, “A. strong description, sir,” he observed.
. ,“ A strong sensation,” the old man vejoin
ed.
Again Mr. Goodchild looked to Mr. Thomas
Idle; but Thomas lay on his back with his face
attentively turned towards the one old man.
and made no sign- At this lime Mr. Goodchild
believed that he saw two threads of fire stretch
-from the old mail’s eyes to his own. and there
attach themselves. (Mr. Goodchild writes .the
present account of his experience, and, with
(be utmost solemnity, protests that lie had the
strongest sensation upon h<m of being forced to
look at the old man along those two fierj’ hints,
from that moment.) !i •
“ I must tell it to you,” said the old man,
with a ghastly and a stony stare.
‘"What ?”■ asked. Francis Goodchild.
‘-•You know where it took place. Yon
dcr!”
Whether he pointed to'the room above, or to
(he room below, or to any room in that old
.'bouse, or to a room in some other old house in
that old town, Mr. Goodchild was not, nor is,
nor over can he, sure.' He was confused by the
circumstance that the right forefinger of the
One old man seemed to. dip itself in one of the
threads of fire, light itself, and make a fiery
Start in the air, as it pointed somewhere. Hav
ing pointed somewhere; it went out. .
“You know she was a bride,” said the old
•roan.. ~
. “ I know they still send up bride-cake,” Mr.
.Goodchild faltered. ‘ * This is a very oppressive
air.”
“ She was a bride," said the old man. “ She
was a fair, flaxen haired, large-eyed girl, who
BY JOHN B-. BRATTON.
VOL. 44.
had no character, ho purpose. *A weak, crcd-.'
uloub,' incapable,, helpless! nothing.',. Ngt.likp
her mother.: No, no. It .was her fatheryvhbiie
character she rijlebtcd. '■ ! ;■’ " vi.r • ...
•'’Her mother had lakeh care to.'scqprcleirefY-;
thing,to herself, for her own life, Avheii.
therof this girl (a child at that time) died—of
sheer helplessness; no other dfsbfdcr—and then
he renewed the acquaintance that had once sub
sisted between the mother and .him. He had
been put aside for the flaxen-haired, large-eyed
man (or nonentity) with; money, He could
overlook ' that / for- money. -He
compensation in money.
“ So, he returned to the side of that woman,'
the mother, made love to her again, danced at
tendance on her, and submitted himself to her
whims.. She wreaked upon him every whim
she. had, or could invent. Tie boro it. And
the more be bore, the more he wanted compen
sation in money, and the more he was resolved
to have it. • .
“ But, lo ! Before he got it, she cheated him.
In one of her imperious, states, she froze, rind
never'thawed again. She put hen-hands to her
head.one night, uttered a.ciy, stiffened, lay in
that attitude certain hours, and died. And he
had got no compensation in money, yet.—
Blight and murrian on her! Not a penny.
“ He had hated her ihrqughout that second
pursuit, and had longed for retaliation on her.
He now counterfeited .her signature to an in
strument, leaving all shc'had to leave, to her
daughter— ten years old then— to,whom the.
property passed absolutely, and appointing
himself the daughter's guardian. When heslid
it under the, pillbw-of.ihe bed on which she lay ,
he bent down in the deaf car of Death, and
whispered, • Mistress Pride, I have determined
a long time that, dead or alive, you jurist malic
me compensation in money.’ '.
“ So, now there were only two. left—which
two were, he, and ihe fair flaxen-haired, lai-ge
eyctl fooljsh dangliter, who afterwards became
the bride." ■
“He put her to school. In'a'secret, dark,
oppressive, ancient, house, he put her to school
with a watchful 3ml unscrupulous woman.—
I My worthy lady,’he said, • here’s a uiirid to
be formed ; will you help ine to form it V She
accepted the trust. For which she. too,-want
ed compensation in money, and had it.
“ Thiri girl was formed in . the fear of him;
and in the conviction that there-was no.-cscape’
from him; S..e was taught, from the first, to,
regard him as her future husband—the man
who mustmarry ber-rthe desiiriy that, over
shadowed* her—.tiie appointed certainty that
could never be avaded. The poor fool was soft.
\yhito wax in their.hands, and took theimpres
sion that they pu t upon her. It hardened wiili
time. It became a part of herself—inseparable
from herself, and only to be loin away from her
by tearing life away from her.
“Eleven years she lived in the dark house
and its gloomy garden. He was jealous of the
very light and air goiting to her. ami they kepi
her close. . He stopped the wide chimneys,
shaded the little windows, IcftJ.be strong .stem
med ivy to wander where it would .over, the
housri front, the moss to accumulate on the nn-
Iritmried fruit-trees in the rcd-wallcd garden,
the weeds to overrun its green arid yellow walks.
He surrounded her with images of sorrow and
pfaoe amjol'the stories tha t .were told of
it, arid then, on pretext of correcting them..to
be left in it in solitude, or Tii.-vct.L- to shrink about
it in the dark. When her mind was must de
pressed mid. fill lest,, of terrors', then be .would
come out of one of gje hiding places from which
he overlooked her, and present'himself, as her
sole resource, ‘ - •
“ Thus, by being,from her childhood thoono
embodiment her life presented to Her of poyrer
io coerce and power to relieve, power io blind
and power, to loose, the ascendency- over .her
weakness secured. She was twenty-one
years arid twenty-one days old when he brought
her home to the gloomy house, his half-witted,’
frightened, and submissive bride bf three weeks.
“He had dismissed the governess by that
time —what he had left to do he could best, do
alone —and they came hick, upon a rainy nighi,
to the scene of htrlong preparation. She min
ed to him upon the threshold,- as the rain was
dripping from the porch, arid said :
“ ‘ 0, sir, it is the death watch licking for
me!’
• Well ! he answered. ' ‘ And if it were ?’
“ ‘ 0, sir !’ she returned to him, ‘ look kindly
on mo, and be merciful to me ! I beg your par
don. I will do anything you wish, if you will
only forgive me!’
“ She was not worth hating : he felt.nolhing
but contempt for. her. - But, she had long been
in'the way, and he had* long been weary, and
the work was near its end, and had to be work
ed out. V
V * You fool,* he said. •Go up the stairs !’
“ She obeyed very .quickly, murmuring, • I
'will do anything you wish !’ When ho came
into the bride’s chamber, having been a little
retarded by the heavy fastenings of the great
door, (for they were alone in the house, and he
had arraigned that the people who attended on
them should come and go in thoday,).he.found
her withdrawn to the farthest corner, and there
standing pressed against the paneling as if she
would have shrunk through it: her flaxen hair
all wild about her fade, and her large eyes
staring at him in vague terror.
“ • What are you afraid of? Come and sit
down by me.’
“ ‘ I will do anything yon wish. . t beg your
pardon, sir. Forgive me!’ Her monotonous
time as usual.
* Ellen, here is a writing that yon must
write out to-morrow, in your own hand. Yon
may as well be seen by others, busily engaged
upon it. When you have written it all fairly,
and corrected all mistakes, call in any twd peo
ple there may be about the house, and sign
your name to it before them. Then, put it in
your bosom to keep it safe,’and when I sit here
again to-morrow night, givc.it to me ’
•1, ' v **■ a V* ' v Hb the greatest care. I
will do anything you wish.’
, “ ' Don’t shake and tremble, then.’
•-n ‘ , i 1 try ,ny utm <>st not to doit—if you
will only forgive me !* . "
Next day, she sat down at her dcskf and
did as she hud*bccn .told. He often passed in
and out.of the room, to observe her, and always
saw her slowly and laboriously writing: re
peating to herself the words she copied, in ap
pearance quite mechanically, and without car
ing or endeavoring to comprehend them, so that
she did her task. He saw her follow the direc
tions she had received, in all particulars; and
at night, when they were alone again in the
same bride’s chamber, and he drew his chair to"
tho hearth, she timidly approached him from
her distant scat, took the paper from her bosom
and gave it into his hand.
“It secured all her possessions to him,’in (he
event of her death. Ho put her before him,
face to face," that ho might look at her steadily;
and he asked her, in so many plain words, nei-.
ther fewer nor more, did she know that ?
, “ There wore spots of ink upon the bosom of
,hcr white dress, and they made her,face look
whiter and her eyes look larger as she nodded
her head. Thcre'were spots of ink upon the
hand with which she'stood before him, nervous
ly plaiting and folding her white skirts.
“ He took imfc-by the arm, and looked her,
yet more closely and steadily, in the face.
'lTiavedone with yob;’'
J■ y Suc’sjiliiihh:-,.'and' uttered a low, suppressed
pry.; : ■’■. ; 'V V.
..;‘;t‘,l ammot ejrtng to kill you. I will not
endanger triy.yourp. . Die!’ ’
.. V’lle. sat [before her in the gloomy bride's
chamber, day after day, night after night, look
ing the word at her when he did not utter it.—
As often as her large unmeaning, eyes were
raised- from thc.hands-in which-she rocked: her
head, to the stern figure, sitting- with crossed
arms-and knitted forehead,: in’ thfc chair, they
read init v ‘Difc!’ When she.dropped asleep in
exhaustion, she was called back -to shuddering
Consciousness by,the whisper, ' Die !’ When
she fell bpoil her old emreaty to ho pardoned,
she was answered ‘ Die.!’ When she had but
watched, and out-suflered the long night, and
the.rising sun flamed itiio the .sombre room,
she heard it bailed with,'Another day and not
dead ?—Die!’ /
“Shut up in, the deserted mansion, aloof
from.all mankind, and engaged alone in. such a
struggle without any respite, it came,to this—
that either hemustdie'or she. He knew it very
well, and-concentratcd his strength against her
feebleness. Hours'npon hours he held her by ■
the arm, when her arm was black where, he
held it, and bade her Die ! .
“It was done, upon a'windy morning, before
sunrise. Ho computed the time to behalf-past
four : but his forgotten watch had run down,
and he could not be sure. She had broken
away from him in the might, whit loud and
sudden cries—the first of that kind to which
had given yerit—arid he had to put. His hands
■over her month. - Since then, she had been
quiet in the corner of the. paneling where she
had sunk down : and lie had left her, and had
gdne back with his folded arms and his knif
ed forehead to'his chair. ■'
“Paler in the pale light, more, colorless than
ever in the leaden dawn, he saw her coming,
trailing herself along the floor towards him-'—a
white wreck of hair, and dress, and wild eyes,
pushing itself on by an irresolute arid -bending
hand* . .
‘o,.forgive me ! I will do any tiling. 0,
sir. pray tell me I may live.’
“ ; Die!’
•‘‘Arc you so resolved!
forme?”
•• -Die!’
‘■llerjarge eyes strained! themselves with
wonder'and fear : wonder and fear changed to
reproach; reproach to.blank.nothing. It was
done. He-was'not at first so sure it was done,
but that the morning sun was : hanging jewels
in her hair—he saw the diamond, emerald, and
ruby glittering among it in little poihtsi as he
stood looking down at her—when he . lifted, her
and laid her on Her bed. ■ r
“She; was; soon laid :in the, ground. And'
now they were all gone, and,he had coiiipensa
ted himself well.
“lie had apnind to travel; Not that he
meant to waste his money, for he was a pinch
ing man and liked his nioney dearly, (liked
.nothing else, indeed.) but that he- had grown
tired ot the desolate house, and wished to turn
his back.upon it and have done with. it. ' But
the house was worth money, and money must.',
not be thrown away. He determined to sell it
before ho went. That it -plight look the less
some,laborers tO‘.wprk; in nie overgrown gar
den, to cut out . the dead .\yood, trihi the ir/
that drooped in Ifcnvy masses over the windows
und gables. and.clear the walks, in which the
weeds were glowing niid-leg high.
; “He worked, bimseif, aloiFg with them. He
worked later than they did. and. one evening
at dusk, was left vyorking alone, with his bill*
hook in his bund—one autumn evening; when
the bride'was five weeks dead;
“ ‘lt grows too dark to work longer” he
said to hunself,-‘I mnsi give over for the night.’
••He detested the house, and was loathe to
enter it. He looked- at the dark, p'orefi waiting
for him like a tuinb. and felt that it was atiac
cursed house. -Near to.tiie porch, ana near to
where, lie stood, was a tree, whose branches'
waved before tho old bay-window of the bride’s
chamber, where, it- had been done. The tree
swung suddenly, and ma.de him start, it swun
again,'although'tbp night was still. Looking
up into it, he saw a figure among the branch
es. , .
“It was the figure of a young man; The
face looked down, as his looked up : the branch
es cracked and swayed : the figure rapidly de
scended, arid slid; upon its feet before him. A
slender youth pi about her age, with long light
brown hair; •
“ ‘What thief are you ?’ he said, seizing the
youth by the collar.
“The young man, in shaking himself free,
swung him a blow with his arm across the face
and throat.'. They closed, but the yourig man
goi from him and stopped back, crying, with
great eagerness and honor, “Don’t touch me !
I (vonid as lieyo be touched by the Devil !’ .
“He stood still, with his bill-hook In his
hand, looking at the young man. For the
young.man's look was the counterpart of her
last look, and ho had not expected- ever to. see
that again. -
“‘I am no thief. Even if I were. I would
not. have a coin of your wealth, if it would buy
me the Indies. You murderer !’
„ ‘.‘_LWhat!’ - '
' “‘I climbed it,’ Said the young mail, point
ing up. into the tree,'for the first time, nigh
for four years ago. I climbed it to look at her.
I saw her. I spoke to her. I have climbed it,
many a time; to watch and listen for her. I
was a hoy, hidden among its loaves, when from
that hay window she gave me this !’ -
“He showed a tress of flaxen hair, tied with
a mourning ribbon.
, ;• ‘Her life,’ said the young man, ‘was a life
of mourning She gave me this as a token bf
it, and a sign that she was dead to every one
bin you. If I had been older, if I had seen
her sooner, I might have saved her from you.-
But she was fast in the web when I first ciimb'
ed the tree, and what could I do then to break
it?
“In saying these Words, he hurst into a fit
of sobbing and crying ; weakly at first, then
passionately.
“-Murderer! I climbed the tree on the night
when you brought her back. I heard her from
the tree, apeak of the death watch, at the ,'dpor.
I was three times in the tree while you were
shut up with her, slowly killing her. I saw
her. from the'tree, lie dead upon’ her bed- ’ 1
have watched you,-from the tree,.for proofs
atid traces of your guilt. The manner of it is
a mystery to me yet. but I will pursue you un
til you have rendered up your life to the hang
man. -You shall never, until then, be rid of
me. I loved her! I oan know no relenting to
wards you. Murderer's I loved her!’
“The youth was bareheaded, his hat having
fluttered away in his descent from the tree.
He moved towards the gate* He had to pass
him to get to it. There was breadth for two
old fashioned carriages abreast: - and the
youth s abhorrence, openly expressed in every
feature of. his face and limb of his body, and
very hard to hear, and verge enough to keep
itself at a distance in. He (by which I mean
the other,) had not stirred hand or foot, since
ho (hid stood still to look at the boy. He fa
ced round.’now, to follow him with his eyes.-
As the .back of the bare light-brown head was c
-turned to him, ho saw a red curve stretch from
t: T7T: r T~
i.. . • ... ; • . : *
“OUR. COUNTRY—&AT IT ALWAVS BE RIGHT-BUT-RIGHT I OR : WRONG, OUR COUNTRY* 1
CARLISLE, PA., THIfkSDAY, DECEMBER 1857.
his huml to it. * lie he threw the
bill hook; where if had .{Alighted— t say; had
alighted, and -not,.woul<F,(ilight.: for; to hjs
j clear perception'tlm lhing-iyas done before he
did it- It, cleft the heaoKj and it remained
there, and the'boy lay face. .
“He buried, the body the night, at the
foot of the tree. As aoonjis it was iight jn the
morning,,.hp worked atpdrning up all the
ground, near, thejrec, anp|linckfng and hewing j
at the neighboring btisheijand undergrowth.—
. When the laborers was nothing sus
picious. and nothing wnß : ,6u'spcctcd.
“Put he had, in a- moq|crit, defeated all his
precautions. anddcstroyc&tthe triumph of the
schem.eiie had so long cbhfcerted, and so sue-'
cess.lully worked out. Hbmhd got rid of the
bride, and had acquired:dipr fortune without
endangering his life : but dow, for a death by
which he had gained nothipg; he had evermore
to live with a rope aroundjffls neck.
“Beyond-this, he was cjSfihcd to the house
of gloom and; honor, Which®; could not endure.-
Being nfraid-to sell "it pf tofifuit it. lest discov
ery stiould be mnde,’ lie was forced lo live in it.
He,hired, two old pcbjire'..man and wife, for his"
servants ; and dwelt in iK nnd dreaded it.—
His great difficulty;.for .-jaiitong time, was the
garden. Whether he keep it in trim,
whether he should suffer i£tb fall into its for
mer state of neglect', be -the least
likely way of attracting atjention to it ? ,
“Hc.dook • the' midtjje feurso of gardening
himself.'in’his evening.lcisi(re;: and call
ing the old serving man ti£’hclp him:' ; v ’btty of
never letting him ' work, tlifcre alone., A'nd ho
made himself tin arbor ; o'vgr . against the tree,
where he could sit and see'that it was safe.
. "As .he seasons changed; and the tree chang
ed, his mind perceived daggers that were al
ways changing. In the ledfy.timo ho perceived
that the upper boughs were growing, into the
fdrm-of the 3’otlng man—ttlftt / lhcy made the
! shape of him exactly, sitiiijg in tC torkeil branch,'
swinging in the wind. livthe time of, the fall-;
ing U-avcs he perceived thlit they' came down
from the tree, forming telly tale letters on the
path, or that tliey.lmd i’; tendency to httap
themselves into a churcl{.yard mound above
the grave. In thewinter.fwhen the. tree was
bare, he perceived that thl| boughs swung at
him the ghost of the Wow. the young man had
given, and .that .they threatened him openly.—
'ln the ,spring, when the s'ap' was ; mounting in
the trunk; he asked, himself - , were lhe,dried-np
particles of Wood mpiiiititjg with it: to make
out more obviously tliis'jyear than last, the
leaf-serened figure of the young man, swinging
in the wind ?- ■ , ■
"However, he turned hjs 'money over and
over, nnd ktill over.Hb wSs in the dark trade,-
the goldidnst trade, and most se'eret tradbs.that
yielded, great;, returns.; Ift ton y'ears he had
turned his money over so many times that , the
traderaantfi shippers whew.had dealings with
him. absolutely .did' ridt. oricc—when
they declared that he bis fortune
twelve:hundred per"oflpt. jl'; ; ,
“He,possessed his richeS ; ,;one hundred years
ago; .when people could, b.cftost easily. He had
heard..\Vh6 the youth, wgsf. from hearing of
the'search that* tvaS;made him : but it died
away, and the youth was forgotten, i
“The annual round of ichanges ip the tree
tbO bUrfarnt of
thunder storin over this ptace.' Tt liroku at
( midnight, and raged iilF morning. The ’first
intelligence lie bvnnl trnm hi. Void serving man
that morriing, was, that the’tree, had been
struck by lightning.• ': - .
"It had been riven down the stem in a very
surprising manner, and the stem lay in two
blighted shafts, one resting against the house,
and one against a portion of the. old red garden
wall in which its fall had made a gap. The
fissure went down the tree lo a little’above
he. earth,, and there stopped.. There wasgreat
curiosity .to see the tree, and, with most of his
fears revived, he sat in Ins arbor—grown quite
nn old man--watching the people who came to
see it.
“They quickly began to come in such dan
gerous numbers, that he closed his garden-gate
and refused to admit any more. But there
were certain men. of science who travelled from
a distance to examie the tree, and in an evil
hour; he let them in—Blight nud murrain on
them, let them in !
“They wanted to dig up the. ruin by the.
roots and closely examine it, and the earth
about it.. Never, while he. lived 1 They offer
ed m’onoy’for it. They ! men of science, whom
he could have bought by the gross, with a
scratch of his pen ! He showed them the gar
den gate again, and locficd.and barred it.
“But they wore bent on doing what they
wanted to do. and they bribed the.old serving
mail—a thankless wretch who regularly com
plained when he received his wages, of being
underpaid—and they stole into the garden by
night with their lanterns, picks, and shovels,
and fell at the tree. ,He was lying in a turret
rooni on the other sideof the house, (the bride’s
chamber had been unoccupied ever since,) but
he soon dreamed ol picks and shovels, and got
up- ... ...
•' lie came to an upper window on that side
whence he could see their lahtefs, and them,
arid the loose earth in a heap which he had
himself disturbed and, put back, when it was
•last turned to the air. It was found ! They
had that minute-lighted oil it. They were all
bending over it. One of them said, 1 The skull
is fractured and another, ‘ See here the bones:’
arid another, ‘ See here the Clothes ;’ and then
the first struck in again, and said, ‘ A rusty
billdiook !’ -
' “Ho became sensible, next day, that he was
already put under a strict watch, and that, he
could go nowhere without being followed. Be
fore a weak was out, ho was taken and laid in
hold. The circumstances Were gradually piec
ed together against him. With a desperate ma
lignity and an appalling ingenuity. But, see
the justice of men, and how it Was extended to
him ! He was further accused of having pois
oned that girl in the bride’s chamber. lie, who
had cat'elully.and expressly avoided imperilling
a hair of his head for her. and who had seen
her die of her own incapacity !
“ There was doubt for which of the'two mur
ders he should be first tried : but the real one
was chosen, and he was found guilty, and oast
for "death! Bloodthirsty wretches! They
would have made him guilty of anything, so set
they were upon having his Jffe. ■
“His money could do nothing to save him,
and ho -was hanged. lam he, and I was hang
ed at Lancaster castle with my face to the wall,
a hundred years ago 1” ;
03*" Most of their faults woman owe to us,
whilst we are indebted to them for most of our
better qualities. —Charles T.cmesle. .
you .wish to keep mind clearnndbody
icalthy, abstain from ali.fermontcd liquors..
K 3 - Don’t bo too severe upon yourself and
your own failings; keep on, don’t faint,-bo en
ergetic to the last.
’ \W In the choice of a lover, a woman consid
ers more how lie appears in the eyes of other
Women, than in her own.
Moat women are endowed with such na
tural endearing charms, that oven their very
presence is generally beneficial; -
f> * A ji
• 'iWT N® fl ♦ fl
■ ' B fl ■ e r v•^kAj-'
~ H jfl .B■ fl S B fl fl B B , O / H ,fl
■ >lir •; iIP-: >r tt' w'Jv W j^ 7 Jv
Courting—Sad Predicament,
An Xov\;a paper tells the following good joke
which happened .some time ago, but will lose
nothiiig'by-ifs age .
AiCertain.’maW.inisoarclrJof a wife, .being out
on a courting expeditionrhs is customarywith
young men, Came late bri Sunduy evening, and,
in order to keep his secret ironi his young ac
quaintances, determined to bo, at homo on Mon
day morning, blight and early, so that his ab
sence Wou|d not be noticed. But his.affianced
resided several miles from the town in which he
ho sqjournedpamt so. to overcame the distance,
ho required the use bl a horse. Mounted on
his horse, dressed ■in his fine white summer
pants, and other flxins in proportion, he arrives
at the residence of his inamorata, he* is
kindly received and this horso properly taken
care of b3' being turned into the pasture tor the
night; The evening,' yea, the, night; passed
away, but how to the young man .is nobody’s
business. Throe o’clock 1 in sho morning arriv-?
ed. Our hero was.awakc-r-nay, ho had been so
all night—but it matters not—throe o’clock' Was
thc-tinic to depart, so that he might arrive at
homo before hie comrades were stirring. .Not
wishing to distuib the family or his lad}' love,
who were then wrapped in the arms of Morphe
us, ho sallied forth to Catch his horse. But
hero was a difficulty—the grass was high and
covered with dew. To venture in with’his white
pantaloons, would rather take the starch out of
them, and lead to bis detection. It would not
do to go in with his white unmentionables, so
be -quickly made his resolution. It was three
o’clock in the morning and nobody stirring, so .
ho carefully disrobed himself of his whites and
placed them in,safety upon the fence, while "ho
gave cliase, with unscreened pedals, through ,
wet after the horse. But the steed was
fond of clover, and had no notion of leaving it.
But our hero was not to bo thwarted, although
he began to realize the trhfli of the old adage
about the course of true love, &c., and finally
the horse was captured.
.Returning to the fence where he had safely
suspended his lilly white unmentionables—O t
Mirdhile Dictu,' whpt a horrible sight, met his
eyes! The field info which his horse had been
turned was not only a horse pasture, but a, calf
pasture too, and the.naughty calves' attractcd
by the white flag on the fence, had betaken
themselves to it, and, calf-like, had almost oaten
them up; only a few well chewed fragments of
this once valuable article of bis wardrobe now
remained*— only a few shreds—just sufficient to
ipdmate what tliey had been. : What a pickle
this was for d nice young man to be in.
It; was how daylight, and the industrious far
mers were upland about, and our hero, farfrom
home, with no covering for his travelling appa
ratus; It would, not do to go back to the house
'of his lady love, as they were now; all ,up* arid
how could he get in without exhibiting himself
to his fair one which liiight ruin the match. No;
no that wouldn’t do. Neither could he go to
the town in’that plight.' There Was oply one re
source left him,'and that was to secrete himself
in, the bushes until the next night, and then get
homo under cover of the darkness. This ho
resolved to do,,and accordingly bid himself in
a thick groiipo of bushes.
Safely hid, be remained under tlio cover of
the bushes for.some time, and it may be imag
ined that his feelings toward the calf , kind were
not of flic most friendly character j but ere long
his seclusion was destined'to be intruded upon.
The family of the fair one seeing Ills horse still
pTussed. . Sho. only knew IjbMiad left, about 3
I o’clock in tlio morning; things didn’t look right;
ifliehad gone, why did he leave Jus horse /
Suspicion was.awakened.: Bye and bye, the,
boys, who had been out to feed the calves, re
turned with the remnants of the identical white'
garments, which adorned the lower limbs of their
late visitor. They were mangled and torn to
shreds. An inquest was immediately held over
thbm. Some awful fate had befallen the unfor
tunate young man. The neighbors were soon
summoned to search for his mangled corpse,
and the posse with all speed set off with dogs,
and arms to the search. The pasture was wef
scoured, and the adjacent thickets, when lo !
our hero ivas driven from his lair by the keen
scent of the dogs, all sale, alive and well, but
minus the linen. An explanation thou ensued
at the expense of oiiv hero, but.be was! success
ful. in the end. He married the girl and is now
jiving comfortably in one of the flourishing towns
in lowa.
Tlrc Way lo be Happy.
A story is related of two travellers in Lapland,
which throws more light on the art of being
happy than a Whole volume of proverbs and
aphorisiris." " .
Upon a very cold day in winter they acre
driving along In a sledge, wrapped in furs from
head to foot. Even their faces were closely
covered, arid you could hardly see anything but
their eyebrows, and those were white and glis
tening with frost.
At length they, saw a poor matt who had sunk
en down benumbed and frozen in (lie snow.
“ We must stop and help him,” said ono of
travellers
“ Stop and help <” replied the other, “you
will never think of stopping such a day as this !
We are half frozen ourselves, and ought to bo
on our journey’s end as soon as possible.” ;
“ But I cannot leave this man to perish,” re-
joined the more humane traveller, “I must go
to his relief,” and he stopped the sledge.
“ Come,” said ho, “ come, and help mo to
raise him.” • • ,
"““TNbt I,’.’“replied the other, “I have too
much’-regard for my own life to expose niysoll
to tin’s freezing atmosphere more than is neces
sary. I will sit hero, and keep myself as warm
as I Can fill you come back.”
So saying, he resolutely kept his seat; while
his companion hastened to relieve the perishing
nninpvhom they had so providentially discov.
ored. The ordinary means were used for restor
ing consciousness j hut the traveller Was,SO in
tent upon saving the life of a follow creature,
that he forgot his own exposure, and What W ore
the consequences ? Why the very efforts which
ho made to’warm the stranger, warmed himself.
Ho had the sweet consciousness of doing a be
nevolent act, and ho also found himself glowing
from, head to foot, by reason of the oxortioris
which ho had made. And bow was it with Iris
companion, who was so much afraid of exposing
himself? lie was almost ready to freeze, not
withstanding the efforts ho had been making to
keep him warm!
The lesson to be derived from this little inci
dent is obviohs-
Tho soorot you dare not tell your mother
is a dangerous that will bo likely to
bring you sorrow.”
03?* A man had. better have all thp afflictions
of all the afflicted, than bp given up to a ropin-.
ing, grumbling heart.
O'?* It is a dangerous thing oven to .assist an
envious man, for whilst ho receives your suc
cor, ho feels yorir power and his own dopehd
nnoo, atjd that excites the gangrene of ids moral,
constitution.
Vu?~ A new-laid egg, broken, into a cup of tea,
coffee, or chocolate, and well beaten tup, is an
excellent ingredient in tho breakfast of a person
having a deficient appetite; and will be found
very substantial. - . -
D 2” If you desire tho commop people to treat
you as a gentleman, you must conduct yourself
as a gentleman should do. fb them.
CET" Lovely woman—An article manufactured
by milinors and dross makers:
“Who wants but little on her head,
’. But much below to make it spread.”
AT $2,00 PER ANNUM
A Singular Suicide.
In the little town of Dover, wbjcli is situated
oh the Cumberland river, in Middle Tennessee,
there’lived, some lime ago, an eccentric and in
temperate old bachelor,by the name of Kingston.
On one occasion, when prostrated on his bed by
excess and suffering actually from those things
and .horrors peculiar to his situation, he sent for
one of his old boon companions to come and
visit him. Sliyrack. for that was the other’s
name, came duly into Kingston’s room.
“ What’s the matter, Kingston?’.’
“ Shyraclcj shut- the door.”
“ Loci? it 7”
“ Eh'?”
■•‘Dock the door?” ■ '
“ Certainly, my dear hoy.” . , , ..
“ Shyrack, I’m going,to kill myself.”
“ My dear fellow, let me entreat,you not to do
it.”
“I will.”.
“No, no—oblige mo, apd don’t.”
“Must do it.”
“Don’t, it’ll bo the death of yon,”
Sliyrack was quite cool and jocose, little
dreaming that so terrible an event was actually
going to take place.
■ Kingston had, as tho last eccentric act of his
life, taken a chisel and mallet to bed with him,
and now, with a desperate I'csolve, he seined tho
extraordinary tools of death and in an instant
drove the Wade of tho chisel into his breast.'
The .hair, rose upon Shyrack’s head and fright
spread like a sheet ol snow over his face.
“Kingston! Kingston .'..my dear fellow —you
—d d rascal, Kingston! do.you' want to. have.
me hung ? Hold on! dont die till I call some
body!”. i
Shyrack ran to tho door and called like a mad
■man to some people across the street:
“Hallow! here! say! you, mister! all you
stupid people! make hasto over hero, or there
will be u murder!”
The people crowded into Kingston’s house.
'“Don’t die, Kingston .' Don’t chisel that way!
Don’t die till you tell me'who did it!”
- “X’did it myself,” said Kingston; faintly.'
“There, that’ll do; how, my dear fellow,
you may die,,’ replied Shyrack, taking. a long
.breath, and wiping prespiratioh from his fore
head. ' ■ ' ■
. And Kingston did die, in that ■ extraordinary
manner, leaving his:fate to bo recorded as a sui
cide, that was almost a murder.
Tiic Bankruptcy of To-day and the. Bankrup
tcy -of ■ FormerTiixics.
“And so, my, neighbor, Ben Barrows, has
failed, eh ?” said my uncle Joshua,
“Y’es, sir,” was my reply, “the concern stop
ped a week ago, and I am told.that their, neigh
bors, have been anticipating the event for some
time past.”
"“Indeed ?” continued the old gentleman.
“Why! could not have believed it possible.”
Failed a week ago I and It was but yesterday
I saw Mrs, Barrows and her daughter Slag whirl
'past in their carriage the sahlo aa oyer both
dressed in the very height of fashion,'and, as
oyer, full to overflowing with gaiety and life. ,
And. I bethink rao now how at the ballet, Inst
night, I was amazed at the lavialuiyss so foolish
ly displayed by the junior Barrows, as.he tossed
upon the stage bouquet alter-bourpict. And so
too, 1- marked' with what vehement applause—
what energetic and long continued chipping of
the hands—the elder Barrows greeted eachdaz
nipt, eli 7 —uy~a -oiinkriVpt, niitr-t, . -ok
graced withal by the presence of a bankrupt's
wife and'daughter.each dressed and jeweled out
as gaudily as the gayest there.
“But stay,” continued my uncle Joshua ris
ing and stepping towards the window,“who and
what hove we here, at Barrows’ door? —you see
his house-rthe third beyond that Ihmp’post on
the corner? 1
As riive, it’s the porter of Tap & Faucet; the
wine' dealers 1 And look! the chap has got
one, two, three, four baskets of champagne in
his wagon.
Ah, X remember, this is the night the—Club
hold their meeting, and its Ben’s turn, I sup
pose, for the supper.
“Alas I” my uncle went on, as ho resumed
. his scat, “these things were not .so managed in
my day. Then, if a man failed to meet his en
gagements, add was compelled to suspend, ho
honestly surrendered to his creditots everything
ho had called his own before, and ho arid ilia
family—no matter what the circle may have
been that they had hitherto mbv.ed in—conform
ed themselves at once, and’readily top, to, their
altered circumstances.”
Borer shall I forgot when that old flrm,B —
Brothers & Co., on wharf,'went ty the
board. It was a year or so after the last war.
I Poor old B—! Everything went I he cov
ered up nothing, he made nothing-over to fami
ly relatives, that fho creditor might bo defraud
ed of llisjust due. B a—atvny Went tho house,
the plate, the coach, everything but honor.
That, indeed, remained Untouched, unsnllied.
“Can the sariio bo said of Benjamin BatroWS,
and such as he?” sriid my uricle, bitterly. “I
fear not. Your failures, now-a-days, afe for
the most pat t friero'shams,—mofe sliamsi
A than gets embarrassed—concludes he’ll
suspend—lays off awhile upon his oars, coolly
telling his Creditors to wait some six, nine, or
twelve months—and then, by and by, whom the
fancy takes him, he starts again,—again to stum
ble, more like than not.”
Thus spoke my uncle Joshua. Young Amor
ica may call him an “Old Fogy” if it pleases,
but there bo those who are thinking that until
ideas akin to his prevail more generally, « tho
good time coming” will be a long while in mak
ing its appearance
A Word to American Ladies.
-A recent number of (ho New York Lift 11-
luslraled, contains an excellent and timely ar
ticle under this caption, evidently written by
one of the sex to whom tlio suggestion are ad.
dressed; The writer says wo are in .the fnidst
of a financial pressure, and banks ate breaking,
merchants .failing, and old-established “sus
pending” on every side, Ottf fathers, brothers,
and husbands, come homo. With perplexed brows
and doubtful (aces, and eye oiir housekeeping
and shopping bills with anything but ad approv
ing glancd. Economize—save—retrench 1 is
the watchword of the hour.
And it is our plaice, as women, to sot the ex
ample of roiorm'.yi this matter. There is no
country in the world where so much respect is
accorded to women, and whore • flet' social post
fion is so exalted as in the tTnilod States. In
all the records of the ’days of red-cross knights
and olden touratnents, there is no such beauti-
ful example of Chivalry as we have recently be
held in the sad shipwreck of the Central Ame
rica. The ladies were saved; the delies te, cling
ing women, and the little children were carried
in safety to the rescuing brig, while the strong
men stood looking on, in the very front of an
awful death I The women were cared for with
the tendorest attention, and the heroiemen wont
down into tho waves without a complaining
Word I
In a country whore woman is held in such
estimation as this, ought she to shrink from an.,
sacrifice necessary to maintain tho standard?
But tho reckless extravagance and empty fiiv
plity of the modern fine lady constitute the sur
est mode of losing this high national position.
Look at the fashionable woman orI857! Sho
wears a silk robe which cost a hundred dollars;
her “love of a full hat” was cheap at fifty, and
she sports a sot of Honiton’at sqVenfy-flvo.—-
Sho carries a small fortune tourtd her wrisls.
dangling at her throat,, and,gloaming on her
fingers, in the shape of crosses, rings, and brace
lets, She buys all tho foolish trinkets and ex-
travflgarit trifles which catrih hot Oycrimlhyrjljfop
Windows, and caps tho.'climaSc
hystericUs when her husband.
Mont! Is fh ist h osca iff Si afol. wn man JTrnpj" '
. Our streets, balNrbomsj'ariil places of jdiulic
resorts aro .ctbivded \ytllf these. walking,adver
tisements, general criiiila’flon seems fb-jlreTail
as to wihcn flimii
and tile richest jewelry, and
slide and prudent, wlio have not moral cpijrjjjb
.to declare independence, ate drawn' into 1 its
vortex of extravagance. ■
Our .very churches have boconie nothing rijoro
than shotv rooms tor the last new bomlut' arid
the latest moire antique ,of llm raslllbtfriOle’avSr'i
shippers. IVhydo not the clergy.remonstrate
ajainst such a state of things? ; dVo liaypisero
mons on politics, scrnmiia omamuscmenrsi ser
mons on finance,, ami why not sermousiOp driest
A clergyman, has just as good right to, insist
on his hearers coming to Church in plain'arirf
inexpensive altiro asdic has to exhort- tlVctH'W
all! Let’ the ladifcs bo- as extravagant dnil fqn£>
tastic as they, may he at tho opera-house, ap;L
asselribly-room, surely the liquse qfCqiJ slfoiiUj
be sacred to' Something hotter than fdlbTolljmitf
fashion! ■ . - a .-... 'lraiaiks
, 1
NO, 25.
I7e (irmly believe that ninny of the faihutdm
the mercantile world-are entirely-owing,to.the
recklessness o( ivoman and the ambiihtbf 'riilß
ery, stiicido and distress for whibii ShO fstlhi#
indirectly called upon to answer, ispOr/cctly in
calculable. A man will endure-tilmost any de
gree of embarrassment before-.ho wilt bonsSht
that his wifij Shall dbiiy diersolt an accustomed
lu&nry,,oV be exposed to. the ridicule or ccfi'Suro
of her particular clique. ' • u KOT
Now, it is your plain and simple dufy.ififtllri*
of America, to stand up by you 1- husbaiidsfaides
and help them bear the heavy pressure*at Ulift
great commercial crisis!' It is of ftp iiseloW
In your.elegant boudoir, fc’lnsping yourjewelldir
hands together, and bemoaning your Incapacity
.to.act Help to institute a reform" in
question, and your Imsband will have ,souio,
substantial proof of your sympathy and affee?
lion. . :
Lay aside yotlr cosily velvets arid
deny yourself that coveted .winter
your back resolutely upon tfvery extravagance*:
A (rue woman never looks lovelier than'Whw.
arrayed in a simple calico orgirigbariVd^csvaritf l
a straw bonnet worth seventy-live cents; iWhafc
if the Mrs. Potfpbais of your acquaintance pas«;-
by you with averted C3*esl haven’t you the nior
al courage Jo value Ihclr fn endsb f p; a ISiri'Olfe f
worth ? VTo respect (ho woman who,.in 'fliesei
hard times, dare appear in public drcssca nt*en
-cxpcnslve raiment I ‘ .
Oh, for the good old time when orio
dress 5 ’ Was the stand-by for four years | ;
nearer the heart of our- commercial
than we "dream of; it is more closely allied' to*
the workings of our gigantic iriotearitilo svSteih*'
than many would he willing to beliovoy Alltbafc.
wo.need is sonic fair leader of the beait
to take the helm and steer a slup.wifli, faticO,
sails! ■ The present time is nin excellunfoppor
tupity for the experiment, ftnd wo are quifo surc?
that the .wise and sensible- of the wortdnWill
gladl\ r ri'eloonio the advent of a dress refrom*,,
, . Scalping n ffoiimn on, tk Plain's,;;' 7 ,. :
Some weeks ago, news from Car,spn Vnlleji
was published of the almost total destruction,©^
10 emigrant train. A woman, who was ofiq tit
the train, was scalped and left for dead.--
turns out,-.howoVer, that she was not dce.dyand,
she has since recovered to tel! the eXtVaordinarJ;
story of her sufferings and her resolute, coder
nncoj which deceived the savages,
Bluffs Beacon, of tliolGth of Sept., Urns tells ill?
tale: ' ' ■ ■' '
An instance of the most remarkable forlitndd
and heart-rending cruelty wo ever, heard-ofi IS
related to ns, by a black man by the name of
Scott, who has recently arrived here from Mis
souri,' by way of the i’hiins, He informs us that
a short time before bo ilnivyd at Stoney Point,
on the Humboldt river, the Indians attacked,a
train of six men, one woman and a eljild. The
men were all killed but one, who. made bis es
cape. The Child was also killed, aud its fnutbet
shot in several places with arrows; scalped,and
left for dead. .
All the while they were scr.ljdngbcr and strip
ping the clothes from her body, she was perfect
ly conscious of what they were doing, bnt feighi
ed,death, and let them tear the skin--from her
. :—w.j,.,,!.
■ atroncc-Ordakc her into hopeless captivity. At
oho time, when they had left her for a moment,
she ventured to change her position, in order*
if possible, to relieve .Jiorseif from the tme'ohi
fortahto posture in Which she Was lyihg; bht OB
their return, they Very soon discovered that she
had moved ; and for fear'that life mightmot: Up
extinct, they to ok hold of the arrows that Were .■
still stickingin her hody,ah,d_worked iFietnabodif
in the wounds,‘and pushed them dpeperainto
her flesh, ahd stamped upon her with theft
licelS. • _ •- mil.
All this she endured Without tittering a groafij
or drawing a breath that could bo perCeivedhy.
(be savages, and in that condition Was lift ltd :
food, tor the wolves. Fortunately, however,W
train Came along before she had lain long, i’ft
that condition, and dressed her wounds, and
brotaght her along with them; and not the Ten'sf
remarkable fact attending the whole matter' is
that she is fast recovering from her wounds.-rv
Her head, we are told, is nearly well, and ,thq -
arrow wounds doing better than anv oiie cxpcct- ■’
cd. ■" • u>:.i
Blessed arc.tfjc orphan children; for they iiavd
no mothers to spank them. , r
A hospitable hum Is never rtslinmed of hit
dinner, when yon-come fo dine with him.
A groat hum is one who can make his 'chil
dren obey him when they are out of liis sight! ' •
There is a policeman in every man’s conscience
—even though yon may hot alwavslind hlni-orT
the heafi . ,
T-lio young man Who cast liis cye oh. a young
lady coming out of church, has had it replaced,
ahd now sees as Well as ever. •
A simple girl cndeavois to commend hcrSelf
by the exhibition of frivolchs accomplishments,
and a mawkish sentiment which is as shallow a?
her mind.
•ta . ' .J - j•'
. “ Did you ever see sncli a mechanical genius
as ray son 1” said ah old lady'-lie has huido il
fiddle out of his head, and has wood, enough to
make another.” ‘ .
' “Isay, Pat, wlmt nfo von about—sfrecpihg
out'ttiat room/ “A T o,” answers Pat, tipm
sweeping out the dirt and leaving the rpoin.’*.--
“ I atii about to do for yoii Wbat Satati never
did for you,” said a quaint parson, in Ins vale,
dlctory address to bis flock j “ that is,' I siiah
leave you,” - -
A distinguished antiquary wishes to know in
whose possession is the chair .on which “ Ver
biim sat.”
A candidate for Civil Service, boiiig asked iib
name tlio principal divisions of the Anglo Saxon
race, answered, “Epsom and Newmarket.”,
The linen drapefs’shopmen declare, that they
cannot think of going to India; the Capo, they
say, would bo somewhat more in their line. ,
IV hoover is afraid of submitting any question,
civil or,religious, to the test of free discussion,
is more in love with his own opinion than with
truth. ::i
It was a maxim of Con. Jackson's, “ Take
time to deliberate; but when tho hour.for actiiii
arrives, stop thinking and go iri.” , . - h
The Arabs have a proverb on what is,called
tho-“ lucky man.” They say, “ Fling him ib
tho Nile and bo will come up with a fish in his
mouth. ” 1 ' ’
Diogenes, being asked of what b.oa.st (lie bite
was most dangerous, answered, “Of wild beiisi.A,
"t of a slanderer; of tame, that of a flatterer.”
,f you would inoroasj,the size and pronjineneb
of your eyes, just keep an account of the niquey
spent foolishly, and add it tip at.the end of- the
quarter. .
x . rrr ■ 1 ■ ;;
If.riinning after w omen bo a sinf it, is very
easily checked. All that is ngepasafy-js for
tho women to stop running away , from the
men. .
Miss B. says that tho first time rt young, man
squeezed her dress, she felt ns If she was iivthb
land where rainbows came from. flow-noetic
a little Jmgging makes people I •.
Fact, Fun, and Fane/.