AMERICAiN T X OLUNTEEJi: PUBLISHED EVERY TRURSDAY MORNING BY Jouii B. Bratton. terms. mmsoßirxioN.-Ono Dollar and Fifty fcents, -im advance; Two Dollars if paid within tlio I mul '"and Two Dollars and Fifty ConfS, if not ?’ C mUniin the year. Those terms will ho rig- FnUU od to in every instance. No anb “L 1 discontinued until all. arrearages are Mdd unless at the option of the Editor. .’ F * DVE btisemf,nt3 —Accompanied by the cash, and not exceeding one squarej will bo inserted throe times for One Dollar, and twonfy-flvo cents lor each additional insertion. Those of agreat tor length in proportion. ’ Job-Printing-— Such as Hand-bills, Posting bills, Pamphlets; Blanks, Labels, &c.. Sc., exe cuted with accuracy and at the shortest notice. fattiral. THINGS TO CHERISH. The eye that looks with love on thee, Jj That brightobs with thy smile, Or mutely bids thee hope again If thou art sad a while; The eyes that, when no words are breathed Gaze fondly into thine— r / Oh, cherish them, ore they grow.dim, They may not always- sliipdl ■ The faithful hearts awivmd thee. That and y-outb, -TVmflmiß and care ne’er yet have scared. Nor ravished of their truth j The heart whoso boating we have beard When throbbing near our own— Oh, cherish them I those beatings bushed ; Barth’s dearest tones are gone. The days when there are hearts and eyes That throb and beam for thee ; The few fleet hours When lifo doth seem Bright as a summer sea; Tho thrilling moments when to speak . The.tull heart’s joy is vain— Oh, cherish them I once gone, alas I They ne’er return again I COUNTRY GIRL BY ST. CLAIR LAWRENCE- The red rose bloometb oh her chock, The modest violet in her face, The one doth of her beauty speak. The other tclleth of her grace. The one an” index to her health, , The other to her heart (rich pearl I) But speaketh clear, the princeless wealth. And sweetness of the Country Girl. There’s happy joy within her words, And music in her merry song, Which like the warbling of the birds, Alone, to woodland wilds belong. No. plaintive lay. of bird confined, Amidst thelcity’s dizzy whirl. Or. saddened note was e’er designed As music for the Country Girl. . ■ She wears no gay attire, J tis, true; Or gaudy trappings bought with pelf, No precious stones of emerald hue, But then she is a gem herself. A princely gem more rich by far, Than that, possessed by. Court or Earl—. A bomteous, blight and shining star , • Of virtue, is the Country Girl. . -JEWlaiitoim' . From 'lhe London Family Herald, SHE WOULDN’T BE JEALOUS . “ No, by Jove !’’ exclaimed Harry Vane, as be threw himself back in an easy chair and gracefully removed a fragrant Havana from his Ups for the purpose of, exhaling the clouds of the perfumed s poke ;■ * no, by Jove !’ he repeat ed, ‘ X woiildn’t marry a jealous woman if she was the richest heiress in the world. I tell you. Walter, it wouldn’t do for my wife to be joal-. ous. ’This being eternally constant to any one little bundle of lace and divjnity is an utter im possibility to a man of my constitution.’ I have a natural taste for variety, you see: and ; the. most I want of a wife is to keep house for me, and take .care of things, and give me a lit tle leisure to make myself agreeable to woman kind in general. When nothing more agreea ble turns up, why of course then shc.can have the privilege of entertaining 'me. which, with the consolation of knowing that her husband is the most accomplished lady killer in town, will, I take it, be ample, compensation for all her services in my behalf.' IJut you see if she were any way jealous slid might not think it SO* * '’ • ’ ’ \ “ It would 6fl possible,.! should think,” "said Walter Everett “ that she might ViOV.inclined to disagree with you* ,1 shoujd think any woman who loved you would naturally object to such an arrangement," ' “Oh, pshani, Everett!” exclaimed Harry; ‘that proves you to be a novice. Don’t you know that love in a female heart is made up of just two elements —vanity and self-sacrifice.— Just give a woman a husband she is proud of . arid you—or, that is, you might not be able to —but a man of my accomplishments can coax her into anything under the sun. Wait till I marry—l’ll show you how to manage a wife.— I’ll show you how to unite all the freedom of a bachelor with all the privileges of a.Bencdict.” , Walter smiled, and puffed away at his cigar in silence. ’ The two young mert were clerks in a largo mercantile establishment in the city. They oc cupied apartments in the same house, and were ■ generally on very close and' intimate ■ terras.-: Perhaps it may not be necessary to inform the reader that Harry was something of a cox comb, though he was by no means as immoral as might be inferred from his own .account of himself. This Walter knew arid he could thcre -forc listen to his occasional strains of gasconade with the utmost serentity, even though perfect ly aware at the time that the speaker entertain ed serious ideas, of finally bestowing the inella ble honor of his name and protection upon a certain little cousin of his own Miss Susie Stan ton. That his confidence went so far as to lead him to conceal from the said young lady the sentiments so frequently expressed, wc can not vouch. . Indeed, the writer rather has the idea that the two frequently talk' I over in pri vate this unfortunate failing of their mutusj friend, and studied frequently to devise some method of reducing the proportions of Harry’s organ of vanity. •Nothing, however, very effectual was accom plished during the courtship, and in process of time Mr. Harry Vane entered the state of mat rimony under the full conviction that his lov ing Susie possessed not one spark of jealousy, and that her overweening affection for him would lead her to accept with unfeigned grati tude and joy whatever attentions it might please him to bestow upon her, and to,prcserve a discreet silence in regard to whatever she might see in his outgoings or incomings'that was pocuhar.Or mysterious. To do Susie justice, she was not naturally of a jealous disposition; but besides her innate amiability in that respect, she had a little bit fif that shy. womanly pride, which made her resolve that sho wouldn’t he jealous. No, in deed, she would not bo pointed at as a jealous wife, neither should Mr. Harry Vane have the pleasure of insinuating that ho managed his tyifo, that she was duly instructed and train ed at home to look conveniently in the other di rection whenever ho choose to open the invinci ble battery of his fascinations upon any inno cent and unsuspecting young female, No, no ; the little lady was too cute for that. . It therefore happened that whenever at aball pr party Mr. Harry. Vane made- himself parti cularly agreeable to any lady, Mrs. Harry Vane also cultivated the same individual. If Mr. Harry Vane only danced with the young lady, or escorted her out to supper, Mrs. Harry Vane contented herself with the most' amiable inqui res after the said young lady’s health, and gra- t I &.uttrican BY JOHN B. BRATTON-' 1 YOL. 4 5. cious hopes that the family at home were quite Well. 'lf Mr; Vane danced twice or thrice with the young-lady, Mrs. Yano straightway invited her to call,-and intimated that she would very soon give herself the pleasure of visiting the young lady, and if matters went still further, and Mr. Harry Vane indulged in a little tete a tetei or a flirtation, Mrs. Harry Yane immedi ately fixed a day, and asked the young lady, to . At home, too, if Mr. Harry Yane exclaimed with enthusiasm, ’-By Jove, but that Miss West hafim splendid figure!’ Mrs! V. replied with equal enthusiasm, “She "has,* indeed, and she danced admirably.” .Or if Harry remarked that ‘Araminla Waters was decidedly the hand somest woman at Mrs. Morgan’s party, Susie added, gently, ‘that rumor said she was as am iable and accomplished as she was handsome and fascinating.’ By this sly way of fighting fire with fire she had succeeded in extinguish ing a half-dozen glowing penchants in the bo som of her liege lord ; while, at. the same time, the uniform sweetness and amiability of her 6wn conduct could not fail to deepen the admi ration and respect which Harry had possessed for her when he married her. ■ ■> So it went on for a year or two, and Susie found , herself a mother. After that, things seemed to mend a little: but baby’s charms soon lost their power, aiid Susie’s.trial took an'- othcr form. Her loving heart, which was con stantly, though quietly, watchful of Harry’s lightest fndvement, was wounded at its most sensitive point. Harry frequently left home without inviting her to accompany him, or oven informing her of his destination. Much as her anxious fears were startled hy this new shadow Upon her domestic peace, Susie had the discre tion to say nothing, but meanwhile to double her assiduity in winning him to homo pleas ures. All her efforts, however, availed, her lit tle ; at least one evening in the week he contin ued to spend away from her. At first she was afraid he might be entering upon some course of dissipation, but careful observation soon con vinced her that whatever sin might bo laid to his charge, the love of liquor was not one; and as drinking forms an ingredient of nearly all forms of dissipation, she finally came to the consclnsion 1 that, as of old, his wandering, in consistent heart was starving after-some new. light of female beauty. It is possible that at this juncture she: may have taken her cousin Walter into confidence.: Ofio beautiful morning in July, Harry seemed in no hurry to go to town. He lingered read-' ing his newspaper after breakfast:till nearly 9 o’clock, arid then dressing himself carefully in his handsomest, suit, carelessly bade his wifq good morning, and strolled leisurely .up the road.instead of going down it, to his place of business. The quick perception of jits wife had noticed a strange, quietude in his manner all the morning, rind she smiled a quiet smile to herself, as she stood before the mirror in her own room, arraying herself in her most becom ing walking costume; for Mrs. Harry Vane Ifas going out, 100. , , . She fitted a dainty pair of bools to her pret ty foot, qnd tightened the fastenings of-her sweetest pdir of kid gloves, put on her most bewitching- bonnet, and then look the last glance in the mirror to assure herself that there wasnltri sweeter or more captivating little wo man than'Mrs Harry Vane. ‘Ho has good taste, at any rate,.’ she soliloquized,"and that is one consolation.’ But‘the little half sigh which closed the sentence intimated that it wasn’t so very consoling after-all. ' _ After her own 'toilet w as completed, tahy was dressed in his richest and most spotless robes, and Mary was .'entrusted , ri’ith the pre cious charge, and bid’ to follow her mistress. — Down the rsgd.tripped ■ thejiilte Jady, taking the shortest There lay the steamer, with flags flying and whistle blow ing, just ready to convey a parly of happy ex cursionists down the river., Mrs. Harry Vane tripped lightly over the pier, followed by Mary and baby, and the next moment the gallant steamer,with its holiday company Was fairly under way. Mrs. Vane walked Icianrcly-l’o the lore part of the yssseirand, there,'apparently very, much to -hti*'-CsuppriscJ ■■discovered, Mr. V. sitting in most atteiitiVe. proximhy to a hand-, some and showy youtlg lady, who was evident ly quite the slave of Mt'Vahe’s fascinations. • Why, good morning, Ifanwi" exclaimed Mrs. Vane, in her sweetest aBiT most cordial tones; “this is, indeed; a delightful surprise;' I had not anticipated your company. ; , After you left home I happened to notice the adver tisement of the excursion, and baby seemed so ailing lately, that I thought it might do him good to take an excursion : so I dressed myself as quickly as possible, and hurried down here.’ What could Mr. Harry Vane say in reply to this most amiable wife like greeting? Mrs. Vane was not at a loss, however, to fill up the pause which his hesitation occasioned. y, . “ That lady is a friend of yours, I presume me to. her, Harry, said she, turn ing to the lady. ‘Mr. Vane’s circle of friends previous to our marriage was so very exten sive, that I have not even yet made the aoquairi tanco of air them. I hope, however, to know them all in the course of time, for nothing gives me greater pleasure than to entertain Harry’s fricmjs. Your name is—-- ? I didn’t quite understand."" " " “ Miss Wentworth,” replied the lady, boW- ing stiffly. “Ah 1 yes,' Miss Wentworth,” said Mrs. Vane, complacently. ‘ I do not recollect of hearing Harry speak of- you ; but it is all the same; my memory is very treacherous ; and in deed ha might have mentioned your name, oa 'surilly, you know, a dozen times, and still I might have forgotten it. But bless me ! where is the baby ?■ Mary come here.” Mary answered the call, and placed tho blue eyed little wonder in tho arms of its delighted mamma. , “Mamma’s precious little darling ! Was it warm ?—so it was. Mamma will take off its hat —so sho will, i There—does it see its papa ? —there,.so it docs, and knows him, ton—pro- cious angel! See 1 Miss Wentworth, sec how well the little darling knows its father, and it isn’t four months old yet.” And Mrs. Vane danced the chubby, red-faced little thing up and down in Mr. Vane’s face, and asked, enthu siastically, “ Didnlt Miss Wentworth think he was just the image of his‘pa?’ There were several of Harry’s acquaintances on board, by whom the affair was thoroughly understood ; and it was not long until the story passed from lip to lip, and smiles and titters and jokes at poor Harry’s expense circulated in every direction. lie excused himself as speedi ly as possible from the society of the ladies, and walked moodily to the other end of the boat, and there stood contemplating what he should do to extricate himself from this dilemna. What tho deuce am I to do?” ho solilo quized. To blow out at her, would only raise a row and circulate the story ; and I can’t get rid of her, for the boat won’t put baok, I sup pose, on my account. God !if the water wasn t so hot, I'd drown myself. To bring that rod faced little imp with her too ! It is a pretty child enough, though ; of course it couldn’t be anything else, and bo my child; sho looses deuced pretty herself, too, to day. She’s a vast deal prettier than Madge Wentworth over was —the baggage 1 If I ever get safe out of this scrape, catch me risking my reputation for nq- other bold flirt like her ?” Meanwhile Miss Wentworth, who possessed a womanly tact in her way, bad overcome in a measure the embarrassment of her first meotingwith Mrs. Vane, and had entered very affably into conversation with her. The baby, as if determined to do its part, was as sweet tempered as its mamma, and cooed and laughed to.tho infinite delight of Miss Wentworth, who was, or pretended to bo, exceedingly fond of pets. Mrs. Yane’s amiability was perfectly ir- 1 resistible, and when Mr. Yane r<tfirned he found the two ladies on the best po= s \?n ? terms. When dinner was announced, Mrs. Vane called Mary to, lake the baby, and rising ex claimed, “Mr. Vane, give your arm to Miss Wentworth,” at the same time appropriating the other to her own use, “and we will Hurry into dinner. This stiff breeze gives one such an appetite."’ At dinner, Mrs. Yane’s first attentions were given to Miss Wentworth, and the least failure upon the part of Mr. Yane (who to tell the truth, was a little absent minded) to observe the wants of that young lady, was reprimanded by Mrs. Vane. “ My dcarj Miss Wentworth will take some more fowl,” said Airs. Vane.,Harry dear, help Bliss Wentworth to some of those delicious peas. Miss Wentworth, allow me to assist you to some of this sauce; I assure you it is deli-' cious.” After dinner, the two ladies, with the baby, retired lo the ladies’ cabin, and Harry enjoyed an hour’s immunity from the society of cither. He retired aft to enjoy (!) his Havana. . Let'ns hope that its fragrance served, in some measure to calm his troubled^mind. It was nearly dark when the excursionists returned, and Harry called a crib for the ladies, and directed the driver ■to drive to his own re sidence. . “ Harry, my dear, how can you he so impo lite ?’’ said Mrs. Vane. “We must see Miss Wentworth home first by all means. She has been coirinlainirig of fatigue , for the last two hours, and I must protest against her being driven a mile or two out of her way upon, my account.”. Harry was obliged to acquiesce, and Mrs. Vane had the satisfaction of leaving Miss Went - worth.at her own door, and bidding her a nipsl affectionate farewell, with the hope that she had enjoyed the day, and wOuld experience no inconvenience from the fatigne it had ocoasion ol her. Ten minutes later, Harr}' Vane was stretch ing his weary limbs upon asOfa in his own qui-' ct parlor. Mrs. Vane hustled about and pre pared a most delicious tea for her loving lord. At first his vexation betrayed him into a few unamiable reiriarks; hut the real tenderness Of Susie’s manner, as she handed him the smo king cup of Souchong upon the lounge, and Soothed and petted away the headache which op pressed him, silenced his irritability, and won him back to good-humor. . , ■ That was the last of Harry Vane’s wander ings. The name of Miss Wentworth was nev er mentioned in his house; and, save his peni: lent confesson, (made that night with his wea ry head lying upon, her bosom. , “ Susie, I have wronged you ; will you forgive roe ?” to which hcr.pnly answer was the .kiss of peace and trust and a glrinoo more eloquent , than any speech.) there was no illusion to his faults. . "■Susie is gray-haired now, and her failing strength is supported by the tenderness of her grand daughters; and it may be that to. them, she sometimes repeats the story of the Woman who wouldn’t be Jealous. i Power of Kindness. A young school teacher had one large l)oy, Joe Stanton, who was thej-ingleadcr of all Mis chief. The first day ho managed to make the school a scene of roguery and coufunon.. The poor teacher went home with a heavy heart. ■ The next day she thought if she could gain the confidence of this boy, and have him on her side she would have but little trouble with her school. .;As it closed in the afternoon she spoke 'Wihcify ' to him, asked his help in Closing the school-room door. He readily complied. As she turned home ward, Joe followed. At length she inquired, “Have you any sisters, Joseph ?” * * The right cord was touched. had.one sister,” he said,“Little Mary,but ghe died ; n ftnd thus encouraged by the ready Sympathy of his hearer he went on to tell that Mary was his only sister, and.that- he used to take care of her, and play with her, and carry her oukof doors, and drew her in the wagon he bad made for her, and that she loved him more than any one else did, and always used to run to the door to meet him when ho came home. “But now she is dead,” he added, “and I have not anybody that lakes care of'me. She had a fever, and she did not know me when I spoke to her, and in just a week she died. Her grave is right over here, and perhaps you would like to see it some time.” The teacher willingly went with him, asking him still further about little Mary as they pas sed along, till at length as they approached the grave and s«t down upon a stone near it, poor Joe could no, longer wipe away the tears, as he had done, when one by one they trickled down, for the fountainsTvere broken up. He covered his face with his hands and wept aloud. “She’s dead,” he exclaimed again, “and no body cares for me now.” # “I will care for you, Joseph*” said the kind teacher, as she laid her hand upon his now un covered head, and then she spoke to him of heaven, and the happy meeting of those whom death has severed, and of one who cares for us more than all earthly friends, and who will help us if wc wish to do right. Then ns he grew calm, and they had risen to go, she told him of her own sorrow, of the fa ther whom she had lost, of her loneliness, of her wish to be useful while she supported herself by leaching, of how hajdfho Westbrook school seemed to her, and how she still meant to do the best she could for him, and for all of her scholars. . “I'll help ye, Miss Mason,” responded Joe. “I’ll help you all I can,” and then the old mischievous twinkle coming again, he added, “I guess the rest of the boys won’t trouble yon much. They’ll do pretty much as I want them to.” Joe was subdued and won by tho power ol kindness. And hard indeed must bo thp hcarl that kindness will not win. Forgiveness.— The bravo only know how to forgive; it is tho most refined and generous pitch of virtue human nature can arrive at.— Cowards have done good and kind actions — cowards have oven fought, nay, sometimes con quered ; but a coward never forgave; it is not his nature; tho power of doing it flows only from a strength and greatness of soul conscious o( its own force and security, and above all the little temptations of resenting every fruitless attempt to interrupt its happiness. Addison has loft on record tho following sentence: “Two persons who hove chosen each other out of all tho species, with tho do-, sign to bo each other’s mutual comfort and on tortainmont, have, in that very action, bound themselves to bo good-humored, affable, joyful, forgiving, and patient, with respect to each other’s frailties and imperfections, to the-end of their lives.” O'OITH'TIir—KAT IT ALWAYS BB JtIGIIT— -BDt- ik&tFH OR WRONG, OUIt GOUNTRT. CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1858, “Mother, mithcr, mother!” sobbed a,Sweet voice, in agonizing. tones.- It was,dark and cold in the low, dismal attic; but close pressed to the frosted windows lay the face of Sammy Hants. ■ His soft hair hung over his tearful face, and his thin hands clasped the rough win dow sill, and his whole frame shook as thb keen blast found its way through the. crevices around hie stone chimney. , It was a sound you never would forget—those half-sobbed,hal f moaned words —'Mother,.mother, mother, mo ther!’ You would have'felt. that. little, heart was ready to burst with its unutterable weight of sorrow, and that grief might be the com panion of childhood as well ns old age. Below stairs the fire leapt and-sparklcd, and crept gaily over the logs in the lirc-plaae, for you may find fireplaces in the Inglenook, even now. , Everythin;; wfus in order, und Mrs.' Haniz, the stepimother of Sanun;", was sitling.placidly before the fire, sinolhing the folds of her clean apron, and in a self-satisfied manner Stroking a tabby cat which lay in her lap. • o . Her three children were sitting enzily in little cfe.irs by the fireside,' and Mr. Hhntz was talk ing Willi a brother who had just arrived to spend Thanksgiving with them. • The wind blew fiercely without, and once, when an unusual tempest seeracd.to shake the foundation of the house, the father turned sud denly to his wife arid said: , • '•Where is Sammy •Gone to bed,’said she tartly. •What made hira.go so early V asked Mr. 11. And in a.tone which precluded further inquiry, his wife answered: •. ... , ‘Because lie was too lazy to sit up, I sup pose.’- ■ . " ■ • ■ ' For a few moments Mr. Hantzlooked vacant ly into a corner of the room, and thcntjU'ering a pipe to his brother, seemed to forgot that little Sammy had been mentioned. - 1 Eight years before, Mn llantz had been sit ting by the same fireside with his first wife, gentle Sarah Lee. Sammy was upon his lath er’s lap, and Saul), with her hand upon, her husband’s shoulder, was talking of what they would do when Sammy would be old enough to have a thanksgiving of his own.; Perhaps Mr. Hants’s, memory was bringing" out those old pictures in a- fresh-light; and iho.-may have ■paused to wonder if he had changed since that wife of his first choice and purest love sat be fore him. However i t was, no one knew. Men arc often ashamed of their best and noblest thoughts, and hide them for Hear" they! may be called unmanly. Whether the old adage may bo true or not, that ‘a moiVci" is the same all the days of her life, but a father changes when he gels a new wife,’ we do not pretend to say ; but it \yas a fact that the second Mrs. Haniz and her chil dren, were apparently first in the 1 thoughts and afloctions of Mr.-Jtlantz. ) ' The morrow was Thanksgiving, and from early morn had Mrs. Haniz been very busy in preparing for the great, dinner pf the coming day.. ■ ' ( _ . - More than two months beforetebe had partly promised Sammy that if he was a’good boy,and behaved, himself, he might.®? Leo’S'to, spend Tliahtcsgmifgw i?lia tiio-moth; crless child had hoped and planned, and bepn happy upon the events of that" .day. He had many times gone to bed supporless, and never cried' at all because he fell asleep thinking of the good dinner he should have at his grand father's. Although but two miles away, his stepmoth er seldom allowed him to go. there, because -as averred, ‘They set him up against, mo, and make him look uglier than ever.' But once in a while she was obliged to let him ,go, for fear that "the people would talk about it/ She was a first, class member of the church in Inglenook, and her. praise for charitable deeds, and kindr ness to the poor, was in all the neighborhood. She was one of those Christians whose‘right hand knows what the left hand doeth,' and whose religion, was for the praise of man,rather than the approval of God ; and whose judg ment I leave for a just judge to pronounce at a coming day. , , , , Many a time had poor Sammy had a boxed ear, while the minister looked out of the win dow, and been sent supperlcss to bed, whileshe told visitors that JlO was sick, and while he slept shivering under a few old blankets in the garret, she displayed a snug warm bed room below, as‘Sammy’s room.’ Through all In glonook she was proverbial as a model step mother, and none but he who watches over motherless children knew of all that poor Sam-, iriy suffered. No human . friend knew of the wrongs done to his childish nature; of the harsh repressing of all exhuberance and of the bitterness which grew up in his heart towards all but his grandfather. He was like his moth er,and sitting on her father’s knee, he had been told by the old man how gentle and lovely she was, and that she was with the angels now, and he a motherless boy. So the young ohilij’s heart clung- to the old man who was kind to him, and the great holi day of the year was that upon which, he could get away-from the sound ol his mother s voice, and the fear of her hand—when he could leave the chill fireside at homo, wherejnr always sal behind the new family group, and would climb on the lap of old Mr. Lee, and with his soft curls lying close to the white hair of the old man, listen to the stories told of his mother, and then have a nice supper upon.tlieTOund ta ble, drawn close to the fire. Ibis year he had anxiously waited for the dry leaves to drift through the woods in October, and for the hist November snow to come,, because at Thanks giving be should visit bis grandfather. And the day before has at last come. He was up before the stars were out of sight, and had a ttp'6nrthO»^ kettle boiling; and the‘potatoes in. All .day long his little feet had pattered here and there —to the. barn, tp* the well, aowii cellar, up stairs, in the pQhtry, and through the kitchen. There surclyTicver was a housewife who needed moro- waititng upon than Mrs. Hants, ana Sammy did it all. His lingers smarted with cold, when lie picked up great baskets of chips; his back ached when ho lugged in armful after armful of,great hard-wood sticks for the kitch en and ‘spare room’- fire place; hungry stomach craved a piece, of the smoking- pies, which he had to drag from the brick oven; and he longed for one ‘doughnut from the neripmg panful he had to. carry away. His little feel and slender arms were very tired ; but he never complained a word, and to all his mother s pro voking taUiits and needless fault-fmdmg.ho was silent; but when all was done—and it was nine o’clock —he could not help asking her if he was to go to his grandfather’s to-morrow; and when he heard her say,‘No! I want home,’ he could hardly totter up stairs. When there, he dropped into an old chair, and moan ed, oh, how sadly ! ‘Mother, mother, mother, Howmany childish hearts moan mother.—. How many ache and break for want of a moth er’s love! All over the world poor orphan children send up a wail for mother 1 Love and Heaven 1 Bitier indeed is the. cry ; but docs not God hear it. and shall he not justly reward the oppressors of little children ? • Thanksgiving morning dawned brightly and clearly upon Inglenook; but Mrs. Hantz wait dome without a mother. MB" Ih I ed on herself that day, for after calling the poor little boy many times, she went up s.airs and found him still sitting, white and chill, .by the window, with tears frozen upon his cheeks, and his soft hair woven with the frost work «n the glass. ■ , Little Sam had gone to hold his Thanksgiving with the angels. AN ESSAY. The following 1 beautiful essay, published by the SI. Louis Republican, as.read by a young, lady-nt tlio St. Louis High School, is inspired by a lovblv fancy. It will remind the reader of the sketch in Shirley,' “When the morning stars sang together, sJ and'of Blanco White’s splendid sonnet, “ Mysterious Night “LET THEKEBE EIGHT.” “In the beginning,” deeper than Egyptian darkness was that which enveloped the earth. ■ No twinkling star relieved the' solemn black ness of the sky, nor tiny ray from the fire-fly’s feeble lamp enlivened the chaos; but all was si lent, heavy darkness. Af.ound the throne of the mighty God was collected all light, which there'shone with illim itable splendor. At last-thb omnipotent voice of the Creator pronounced the words, “ Let there bo light,” and from tlio throne there issued a vast flood of glowing radiance which descended on the swift wings of morning to illume tho earth. Then arose a-mighty shout of joy from tlio assembled host of heaven, and God said “ it is good.” Darkness drew kor sombre mantle around her, and fled affrighted to tho secret caves of the earth. . ' The light danced merrily on (ho sparkling waves, and penetrated the deep ocean.' -Sottiy it called the hidden verdure from the cold.bo som of. the earth, and joyfully it was obeyed.. The merry, insect sported on its wing, and life was throughout the regions tl tiro earth. - Water.resolved into vapor and floated as flee cy clouds in the ahv ■ Then the seven colors bent, in a loving em brace across the sky, forming the rainbow arch, and 'parted to do their appointed work., .• The red, painted with fiery pencil the robes ot Aurora i kissed the delicate petals of the flow ers, then divided into the sea, and left a glowing blush on the spa-shell’s cheek. . Green moved quickly over the earth, touching trees and grass with its refreshing color. Yellow spr mg to the sunset sky and penciled it with its' bl ight golden line;.then glided gently to the.peeping, stars, and loft her-color in their mellowed rays i moved along the sea shore on the shirting sands, arid sought the dark caverns ot the earth at last, where it left its magic im-. press bn the glittering metal.. Blue spread the heavens with its soft othorial azure, then rested on the bpsonuof the clear, transparent waters. Purple wont to the overburdened vino, and left its tint on the -luscious.grape. Violet, abashed, fled to a modest flowret and hid in its jeweled crip. . . . Orange, as it passed over the lipids, colored the little wild flowers with its brilliant hue, then 'sought the delicious fruits of the South, and I smiled upon them. . . Again wero-tho colors sent on their mission when man was created. Red tinged the rich blood which coursed through his veins, pressed Ids cheeks with the .glow>of'health, and lingqrcd enraptured, on the lips of a life-long kiss. ; Bine dwelt in the mild radiant of ids beaming eye. Yellow danced- in'tho wavj' ringlets of his hair, and the seven colors, united in a bountiful combination,, left their snowy impress on his noble brow. • Then God, the maker, pronounced in loving tones those thrilling words, “Let therobo light,” and living light from the Divine Spirit illumina ted man’s frame, and he became an immortal being. : ■ ' . . ' Ho looked at the earth and saw the springing flowers and the creeping reptiles, lie gazed and beheld the vast ocean, swelling and dashing, and the tall forest trees covering the earth for many miles, and affording shade to the innumerable animals that dwelt in peace and harmony.. Ho raised his eyes to the - heavenly vault studded with stars, and strove in vain to penetrate the mysterious curtain. The man reasoned: ■“ Who could bo the author of these wondrous things ?” And ri mighty voice repli ed, “It is I—the First and the Last.” And man worshipped the great “I am,” for lib felt that Ho was his maker. But soon the clouds obscured the light; the tempter came with his insinuating wiles, and man forgot his God. Then came Death, tho King of Darkness, to take tho place of the lost Light. But God was merciful, and sent the glorious Sun of Righteousness to drive darkness away forever. . ' ■■ Tho heavenly decree “lot there bo light,” has been issued every time a now soul is born into tho kingdom of Christ, and whenever the light of intolligonco.boams upon the sotil; though often.in mercy tho Good Father's voice remain ed silent, and the weeping friends, and Hie heart broken mother lament tho birth of an idiot child, for those blessed words.havc not yet been spo ken j' but they are spoken when “The soul freed from its cumbrous prison.of Greets the efomal morn of a heavenly day.” At last when “ the earth is consumed by lire, and the earth passes away with a groat noise,” tho light will return to Heaven, and shine with renewed splendor around the “ Groat White Throne.” There for an eternity will it shine, reflected on the pure and happy faces of tho Blest. Alphabet of Proverbs. —A grain of pru dence is worth a pound oKcraft, Boasters are cousins to liars. Confession of a fault makes halfamonds. Denying a fault doubles it. Envy shoototh at others and wounds herself. Foolish fear doubles danger. God reaches us good things by our hands. Ho has hard work who has nothing to do. It costs more to revenge wrongs than, to bear them. Knavery is tho worst trade'. Learning makes a man fit com pany for himself. Modesty is a guard to virtue. Not to hoar conscience is the way to silence it. One hour to-day is worth two to-morrow. Proud looks make foul work in fair faces. Quiet con science gives quiet sleep. Richest is he that wants least.. Small faults indulged are tho little thieves that lot jn greater. Tho boughs that bear most hang lowest. Upright walking is sure walking. Wise men make more opportunities than they find. Yoii never losoUby doing a good turn. Zeal without knowledge is lire without light. Legal Restraints on Quackery.— The London Times hopes to see a proper: measure introduced into Parliament to regulate the med ical profession, and, if possible, to raise the standard of its qualifications, but expresses its lack of confidence as to the effects of a law on the restriction of quackery. The really effec tive portion of the medical bill will be, in the opinion of the Times, not that which is nega tive, but that which is positive, not that which prohibits, but that which establishes. To fine quacks and confiscate quack medicines will not go far to exalt medical science or to promote the health of the community, to raise the char acter of the recognized practitioner, to make his examinations more searching and his position more honorable, to hold out the prizes only to such as have passed through a proper training, ami have-deserved-a proper license : these more positive cnaotmenls will, it is argued, do far more for the elevation of the profession and for the sanitary condition of tho public generally- AT §2.00 PEE ANNUM. A Blow (o Crinoline. No sooner has this latest, most significant and universally- adopted invention in ladies’ clothing come in vogue than a blow is given to it that we fear will bo fatal. The medical fac ulty is attacking it, and With a vigor that wo fear will kill it oft’ more quietly than it is in the habit of doing with its patients. An eminent French gentleman has giv-eft his opinion that by reason of it the wearer is fear fully subjected to catching cold, and inducing diseases peculiar to the female sex. Ho has in hibited its use by the ladies of the French Court. An English doctor, adds his opinion upon the subject in the same direction. A Mr. Lupp.rin eminent medical practitioner, in a letter to the Medical Times, says: “I have been consulted this week by a lady sullering from rheumatic pains in her knots ; she had never been troubled before, and she be lieves that there is no tendency to rheumatism in her family. She had noticed the advent of pain ever since she had taken to crinoline, and refers her pains to it, as through the rotundity of iia hoops, &c., all the warmth usually retain ed to the legs, &c., by the clothing, is dissipa ted by the currents of air circulating m the space between. As this appears to be very fea sible, perhaps others nf your readers may have observed the same ellcct produced by the amp litude of existing fashion.” Cangltl on tho Jury, The following, which wo heard told as a fact some time ago, is too good to bo lost, and may be beneficial to some 'gentleman who has a young, unsuspecting wife A certain man, who lived about ten. milts, from K—-, was in the habit of going to town about once a week and getting on a regular spree, and would not return until he had liipe to “cool oft,” Which was generally two or three days. Ilis Wife was ignorant of - the cause of his staying' out so long, and suflered greatly from anxiety about his welfare. . When he would return, of course his confiding wife wcOld inquire what had been, the matter with him, and the invariable reply; was “that he was caught on thc jury and couldn’t get off.'’ Having gathered his corn and placed it in a large heap, he, according to custom, determiu* cd to call in his neighbors and have a real corn shucking, frolic. . So he gave Ned, a faithful servant, a jug and an order to go to town and get a gallon of whiskey—a very necessary ar ticle on-such occasions. Ned mounted a mule, and was soon in town, and equipped with the whiskey* and remounted to set out for home, alb buoyant with : the prospect of fun at . the “shucking." . When ho had proceeded a few hundred yards from town ho concluded to try the “stuff,” and not satisfied with once he kept trying until the world went' around so fast that he turned I oft the mule, and there he went to' sleep and the mule to grazing. It was now. nearly night and when Ned awoke it was just before the break of day, and so dark that ho was unable to make any start towards home until, light. As soon as his bewilderment had subsided so that he could get tlio “point,” he started with an empty jug, the whiskey having run out,and afoot* for the mule had gone home.-- Of course ho was contemplating the appfoatfdn of a “two year old Jiicory,” or ,a piece pf twisted hide, as ho went on at. a rate of two-lorty. Ned reached home, about breakfast lime, and “fetched up” at the back door with a decidedly guilty countenance. ~ “What'in the thunder have you been at, you black rascal," said his master. Ned, knowing his master’s excuse to his wife when he got on a spree, ilotermincd to tell the truth, if he died for it, and said: “Well, master, to tell the truth, t was kqtch on the jury and couldn’t get oft,” -y " Transference op Vitality.—Tlio trans ference of vitality, which seems to occur when young persons are habitually placed in contact with the aged, is well attested by very compe tent authorities. A distinguished author, Sir James Copeland says : , A hot uncommon cause of depressed vital power is the young sleeping with the aged. This,-however, explained,, has been,too long re marked. I have occasionally met with the counterpart of the following case: “I was, a few years ago, consulted about a pale, sickly, and thin boy, of about four or five years of ago. lie appeared to have no specific ailment, but n slow and remarkable decline of flesh, strength, and of the energy of the-functions. After in quiring into the history of the case, it came out that he was a very robust and plethoric child up to his third year, when his grandmother, a very old person, took him to sleep with her; that ho soon after lost his good looks, and that he continued to decline progressively, notwith standing the medical treatment to which ho was subjected. Happiness, True and. False.—Trite, hap piness is of a retired nature, and an enemy to pomp and noise; it arises, in the first place, from the enjoyment of one’s self, and in the next, from the friendship and conversation of a few select companions i it loves shade and sol itude, and naturally haunts graves and foun tains,: fields --and -meadows ; in-short,-it- feels everything it wants within itself, and receives no addition from multitudes of witnesses and spectators. On the contrary, false happiness loves to bo in a crowd, and to draw the eves of the world upon her. She does not receive any satisfaction from the applauses which she gives herself, but from the admiration which she rais cs in'others. She flourishes in courts and pal aces, theatres and assemblies, and has no exis tence but when she is looked upon. — Addison. Queer. —One of the most remarkable facts recorded by M. Boudin is the immunity which towns, especially the larger and more populous ones, enjoy from accident to life by lightning. Thus between 1800 and 1851 not a single death was recorded from this cause in Paris; and in 1786 it w&s calculated that out of 750,- 000 deaths iii London during thirty years only two had been produced by lightning. Compa ring these numbers with the total number of deaths Irom this cause; and with the’fact that twenly-five per cent, of all happen under trees, he holds it reasonable to conclude “that light ning finds more victims in the open country than in cities.” The average annual number of deaths by lightning in France, from 1835 to 1852, inclusive, was seventy-two. In 1835 there were 111. A Yankee editor says that ho liked todio a larfln’, to see a drnnkin’ chap tiyin’ to pocket tho shadow ofaswingin’ sign for a pocket hand kcrcliicf. rrv Did yon over know ared haired man who had a very clear notion of where scarlet began, and aulnlni terminated 7 . . Aunt Betsy has said many good things— among tho rest that a newspaper is like a wile, because every man ought to have one of Jus own- “Boy, did you let jplT that gun ?” exclaimed an enraged schoolmaster. what do yon think X will do to you ?” «Why let mo od’.” , ■ Exemplary Patience. Judge Olin was violently attacked, iri court, by a young and very impertinent attorney, but ' heard him quite through, imd'.roade no reply. After the adjournment for the day, and when all bad assembled at the hotel where the judge and many of the court had their lodging, oho of the company, referring to the scene at court, asked the judge why ho did not rebuke the im pertinent fellow. “Pcrmitmo,”said the judge, loud enough to call the attention of all the com pany, among which was “the. fellow” in qnca- ' tion, “Permit mo to tell you a story. Myfath-’ cr. when ho lived down in the country, had; a dog—-a mere puppy, I may say. ; Well, this . pup would go out every moonlight night, and bark at the radon for hours together.”'' Hero the judge paused, os if he had dona wilfi lhd story. “Well, well, what of it?” exclaimed half a dozen, of; the audience at'onco.' “Oh, nothing—nothing whatever! The I moon kept ' on Just as if nothing had happened." It is scarcely necessary to mention.that the lawyer left in double quick time, for another part of the house. ’ ’ SO. 15. The admirers of crinoline will be prdiid to learn that the invention of balloons is owing to a similar contrivance. The French give a cu rious anecdote of a simple occurrence which led the inventor of such machines—Montgolfier to' turn his attention to the subject. It is to this cflcctA washerwoman of the Rueaux Juifs, in the Marais, placed a petticoat on a basket work frame, over a stove to dry._ In order to concentrate all the heat, and to prevent its cs onping by the aperture at the top, she drew the strings closely together which are-used to tic it round the waist. By degrees the stuff 1 dried, became lighter, and the stove continuing to heal and ratify the air concentrated under tho frame-work, tho petticoat began to move, and at last rose in_thc air. The washermoman was so astonished that site ran out to call her neigh- ■ hors ; and they, seeing it suspended in the air, were amaized. One individual, however, a simple paper-maker from Annohny, 'ftaracd Montgolfier, as much astonished hut more ace; siblc, than the others, returned home, and with out loss of. time, studied the work ofPrie-tly .on difierent kinds of atmospheres. The result was the discovery of the first balloon, called Mont golfier's, of which he was the inventor. As the nautilus probably gave tho idea of a sailing ves sel, so also do very simple causes often produce great and unexpected results. Chamber's RccolUeiipns. ' ■ The Nebraska Post, under the above caption > gOetb it thus: •. , A few days since, wo received a letter from a friend at the cast, making inquiries in regard to our territory, from,which wo clip tho following questions, and append the answers. We have been in Nebraska but a short time, and our knowledge being somewhat limited, wo hope dno allowance will be made for any misstate-, mints. , “ What kilid of country do you live in?” “Mixed and extensive. If is made up prin cipally ofland and water.” • . . •“ What kind of weather?” “Long spoils pf wtnlhcr are frequent. . Onr sunshine comes off pricipally during tho day time:” ... “ Have you plenty of wafer, and how got?”- “ A good deal of water scatfored about, and generally not in pails and Whiskey.” “Is it hard ?” , " 'J “Rather so, when yon have to go half a mile, and wiido in mud knee-deep to get It.” ' “ What kind of buildings 7” “Allegoric, lonic, Anti-Caloric, Log and Slabs. Tbo buildings are chiefly qnt.doors, and so low between joints that the chimneys all stick-out through the roof.” V . . : “ What kind of society ?” , « Good,bad,'hateful, indifferent and mixed.” . “ An aristocracy ?” “ Nary one.” “ What do your .people do for a living most ly?”- ■ , : “ Some work, some lazo round, duo’s a, shrewd business manager, arid several drink .whiskey.” ,: “Is it cheap living there ?” “ Only.flvo cenfsaglass, arid tho waferthrown , “ Any taste for music ?” “Strong. Buzz-and buck-saws in tho day. time, and wolf-howling and cat-fighting* of nights.” . ; :■■■■, «< Any pianos there ?” ' “No; but wp have cow-bolls, and n tin pah in every family.” - ’ “ Any manufacturers?” . “Every household. All our children are home productions;” “ What Could a genteel family jn moderate circumstances do there for a living ?” “ Work, shave notes, fish, hunt, steal, or if hard pinched, buy and sell town property. “Are your,people intelligent?” “Some know everything that happens, - and. some things that dp not.” “ Would they appreciate a well-bred family ■ of sons and daughters ?” . , ■« Certainly.' Great on blood stock; would take them to the next territorial lair, and ex hibit them. Dear friend, your questions are answered. Bring on your well-bred stock and make your home with us.” . " OXlt Tight. —“ Uow flushed, how WOak ho is! IVhat is the matter with him ? “ Only-tight.” “Tight?” “ Yes intoxicated.” “ Only light.” Man’s hest.and,greatest gift, his intellect degraded; the only power that'rai ses him from brute creation, trodden down un. der the foot of a debasing appetite. . “ Only tight,” the mother stands with pale face and tear- dimmed eye to see her only son’s disgrace, and in her fancy pictures tlio bitter woe of which this is the foreshadowing. : “ Only tight,” the gentle sister whose strong. , est love through life has boon given to her hand some lalcnledbrother, shrinks with contempt and disgust Irom his embrace, and brushosaway the hot impure kiss ho prints Open her cheek. “ Only light,” and Ms young hrido stops in tlio glad dance she is making'lo meet him, and : .checks the welcomes on-her lips to gaze in ter- 1 ; ror on the reeling term and flushed fiico pf him who was the “god of her idoltry.” “Only light,” and the father’s face grows dark and sad as with a hitter sigh-ho stoops over the sleeping form ot Ids first born. He lias brought sorrow to all these affection ate hearts; lioJias opened the door to a fatal ; indulgence; lieTuis brought himself dowti to a level with brutes; ho has tasted—exciting, the appetite to crave the poisonous drought again; ho has fallen from his-high and rioblo manhood, tp babbling idiocy and heavy stupor ; brought grief to tits mother, distrust to his sister; almost despair to Ids bride, and flowed his father’s head with sorrow, but blaiiio him not lot he is “ only light.” ‘ ' Ministers’ Salaries i*i New York.—llenry. Ward Beecher has a yearly salary of 55,000 and t parsonage rent free, and, with his literary ear nings, his income Is 12,000. 13. Chapin has $5,000 per annum, amt makes a 3 much mpro . by lecturing. Dr. Bethuhc has $2,600, but. la-,' the possessor of a fortune outside of hisprofes-' sional earnings. Dr. Adams, says our authori ty, has $5,000 and a rich wile.. Dr. Hawks $O,OOO n year and a' house. Dr. Taylor, of Grace Church, has $lO,OOO and tlic Oho parson age adjacent to the churdi. Kbv. Messrs. Tyng, Bellows, Osgood, Chcover, and other leading clergymen receive from $B,OOO to $O,OOO per annum. Perhaps it is only fair (o add that gcnl/cmen of equal ability in other professions usually re ceive a larger compensation than those men tioned ab6vo. ir?" *<l shouldn't cnro nluch about tho bugs,” Saida thin, pale lodger to his andlady, <■ but the fact is’ ma’am, I hain’t got the blood to spare.” ty-7- Tho British soldieta found in Delhi an idol with largo diamond eyes. That idol waa unlike tho ghost of Hamlet’s father. It had speculation in its eyes. OS’"Tho advice given hy an Irishman to.his English iVidnd,' on introducing him info a regu lar Tipperary row, was, <« Whotiver you aoo a head, hlt.’f Invention of Balloons. Questions Answered.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers