tIEUICAN.VOJjUNTEEII. ft IBLI3UED EVERT THOttSDAT MORNING BT JOIIIIB. pralton. ; TEWS. osGßiniON. —Ono Dollar,and Fifty Cents, in advance; Two Dpllara il paid within the and Two Dollars and Fifty- Cents, if not within the year. These terms will bo rig idhorod to; in every instance. No sub tion discontinued until all arrearages aye unless at the option of the Editor. ►VERTrsEMENTS- —Accompanied by- the cash, lot exceeding ono square, will ho inserted i times for Ono Dollar, and twenty-five cents aoh additional insertion. Thoseofagreat sngth in proportion. • ' ' as IXand-hills, Posting- I'Paraphlots, Blanks, Labels, &c.,&0.,0xe- PWith accuracy and at the shortest notice. lip',, ~ FENDER. n.’jfii’f.tnvl •■ , • v •- In myjhenvt there liveth a picture . n r oWl'kitchen rude and old, (TOfcSfe the flro light tripped o’er the ratters, VripJjSji# reddened the root’s brown mould ; the steam trom the kettle hummed on the foot-worn hearth, f %%tSpnghout all the livelong evening mcasurC3 0< drow w mirth. f Manse of three light shadbws ithat frescped that rude old room— ®iuso of thtfvoicea echoed ’mid the rafters’ gloom— oCauae of the feet bn the fender, „,;Six restless, white little feet— ‘houghts of that dear old kitchen to mo so (resh and sweet. i the first dash on tho window, Id of the coming rain, rhere are the fair young faces it crowded against the pane 1 bits of firelight stealing 4 m* dimpled cheeks between, struggling out in. the darkness shreds of silver sheen. if the feet grew weary a dreary, dismal day, _ ... wo tied them with snow-white ribbons, ivinghim there by the way. ■ 3 was fresh day on the fender lat weary, winter night, ho four little feet had tracked it im his grave on the bright hill’s side. ;liy on the darksome evening, is evening of rain.apd sleet, thy feet alone on the hearth-stone ? where are those other feel ? hey treading the pathway of virtue ,at will bring ns together above ? _ ~lV'c they made stops that will darnpou sister's tireless love f 5- •V.Vi A Bride of the Abyss. WO! :og THE BLACK FOREST had deepened into twilight, and twilight SiSpidarkitcss, and the sombre mantle Of night fe’vlaanow resling like an eternal Canopy of dcso pMlroh over the vast, wilds of- Bohemia, whose SSnffihty solitudes are seldom broken by the of man. Near a small cottage on the out ig%g&n of the great Black Forest, two persons SlSere'.standing—the-one a gloriously beautiful feSmaiden of not more than seventeen summers; fWe’Other, a dark browed man •of twenty-wc. Er^^mear, -evidently awaiting his, master’s « easing subject forms the theme of con ntait isvapparenty-for,-suddenly-' noising i and pointing toward the moon which it from Behind a dark bank of cloud, iVcxolaih.s in a tone of deep emotion . ill remember yon not two short years very spot, in the presence of, yoti snOTowy crescent, I knelt.at yonrfeet and hand? Too spurned me from ' you with withering scorn, and.your hand was clasped by the miser—the old- dotard, Orasltn . ji VTdu -are now his betrothed! and yon moon ,/ which towers majestically in the heavens, is ■■• the same that. In-held me honest and industri -CUp, but now beholds me branded with the napie of outcast 1 aye, of felon 1” - .\V;il;;Lce. ycur words are wild—your man strange!” exclaimed the maiden, throwing iS'Wjlejj ‘white alabaster arms upward in the mpon- P-’ilSght with d gesture of surprise: “I am be- Bipblhed to another, Wallace, but, as! have ever dMon true to you in heart, bear me witness, 'that it is not fr>.ui love that I am-the betrothed «f-the wealthy Craslin!” and her voice was t Subdued in tone, and her words were spoken , r fast and hurried. My father. Wallace, is very ’’■old. and his late fntercourse with the world has 'chafed his mind, and strengthened hfs love for - cold, and—and —” i 5 ■ <‘And lam poor, and the heir of poverty, ’ ydti would say. Lulu.” The young man i n ter - Tup.ledher with a hitter sneer. “Craslin is lipoid and trembling on the very verge of the |f‘ gravdfbut Lulu, ho has gold, ha 1 ha! gold ’ | -; ( -‘>Hist, Wallace 1 my father is at home, and should; he hear you, harm might come. I would fiiyfhaugbt to displease you, and yet you must much-I may love you, I can hot I'/.’- ; my father has said it, and his words f’'sSatie as the decrees of destiny 1” 1,0 A v dftrk cloud of hopeless passion pwCpt like |i- i pah of.deaih over the countenance of the man, fe. as seizing her by the hand, he exclaimed pas p. -siohatpiyt , i , • B.- ■ bjjalu! bad you been true you nyght have KO'Saved me, but now t arn lost forever! Lulu, , ' turn ypur eyes from me, turn your face from | v.' toynasSe. vfhile I tell you the secret that rises 1 firofh tity bursting heart! Listen! lam —Oh, V ; 'v Qod ! I.affl — Sdntano. the Brigand ! and you, 2; Ltiia, «oti Hd*e tffltdp me what Lam 1” “As though some dread spirit had turned her. htopd-ii? ice and her face to marble, mute and japtiSpless the maiden stood. Not a word, not a.whispcr come from her trembling lips—not a Sighbeavtd her throbbing bosom. Her eyes, F' ofolLand dark, gazed upon the form of the spep,- m ’rkwSln a wild, quivering glance,.her hands dropßcd powerless by her side, and the man lOOkedupon the form before him ns though he beheld: a spirit of tho invisible world! " Wesl.Lulu. I am indeed the terrible Santano, tM demon of the Black Forest! but hark! tiibs’e shouts! they come! tho bloodhounds «« on my track! They tread in mv very . footsteps! Ha 1 but I w.ll foil them !”* - n’-tHe spoke to bis steed, and grasping the mai den by the hand, in a moment was in the sad '' ““ with her in his arms. Applying the spur, Brtunced into the forest, whde tho shrill bay rif and the fierce shouts of ed inen came ringing upon the stillness of Jeener and deeper the bandit struck into the - Hark recesscs of the forest, and tho interwoven i branches began to cast a midnight sltade upon the mossy 1 turf of the. wood-path, which the nrvWof the moon might not illuminate or enli veW witha single'Hash of light. The roar of wsteA -the deep yet regular sound of n cateraot ■ rushibg over a ledge of rook, now filled the air, ' ' and for »ipomont drowned the bay of the blood ‘ ‘ hbuhdi.'and the shouts of tho pursuers. Aa she waa thus hurriedly borne along into >' the recessi bf : the forest, the maiden awoke from the spell that bound her senses—awoke ‘ and fonad the arm of Wallace encircling her . waist, while the maddening flash of his dark ■ eyes gleamed, in the surrounding gloom. A vague fecling of terror seized upon., her mind when she. thought of Santano, the brigand, but as she gazed upon the face of him who held her and saw the features of Wallace Cameron, her ifirkt, her only love, the bandit and his crimes 'Were forgotten. . S Wallace, what mean those cries f Why Vwe thus swiftly along the forest-path . ithcr do we ride f ” 'award 1 Lulu, onward ! Hark! those shouts ;*m ' • BY J. WOODBURY LEWIS BY JOHN B. BRATTON. YOL. 45 swell nearer, clearer! A moment, Lulu, and we are safe! a tangled thicket'Opposes our pro gress ; the forest grows darker; the midnight shadow deepens; one more effort, Lulu, and wo have foiled them!” He spurred the noble steed into the opening brush wood ; the branches gave way before the restless impetus of 'his mad charge, and quick as thought they were upon the other Side of the dense copse, and standing upon a shelving rook that reached far put into blank space and hung over a fathomless abyss ! . The horse, with a snort of terror, and trem bling in every limb, recoiled from the brink of the precipice, and sank quivering back upon his haunches. ’ , ■ “Lift your head, jLulu, and gaze around . Gaze upon yon ihun'a'crvoiccd catcract—upon this shelving rock —above at the full-orbed moon—below the dark abyss where dwells eter nal midnight 1 Is it not a beautiful scene Lu lu —a pleasant place where —” “Wallace, Tis a fearful place!—the dread cataracts of Bohmer! Ha, my brain reels— my senses falter! I—” “Lulu, in life thou hast been mine, and why, when the blood-hounds bay, and the impreca tions of ray enemies are ringing like a knell of death in my cars, should I part with thee? why should'l seek to escape to foreign lands, and return after a long lapse of years to find the roses withered on thy cheek, the glance of youth fled from thy beaming eyes ? Mine hast thou heeh in life, mine shalt thou bo in death 1 Nay, start not, dearest, nor tremble. Gather closer to me and pillow thy head upon my shoulder! closer, closer, Lulu thy bosom to mine—thy hand to mine—thy heart to mine! is its" pulsations with love for me 1 It speaks in thy heaving bosom! Dost thou fear the abyss? Dost thou dread the leap ? Ha, ha, Lulu, the moon is brightand gleams upon our nuptial couch i Thecatcrapt fills the air with thunder; tis our marriage music! Mine hast thou been in life 1 and —” “Thine in death ! thine forever !•” shrieked the maiden, raising her arms in the moonlight, while her dark eyes gleamed with supernatural lustre. ■ “Thine in time! thinc'in eternity ! farewell, life! farewell, hope! Thine, Wallace, thine alone!” With clasped hands, face to face, and hp to lip, the spurs sunk rowel deep in the side of the already maddened steed ; there was a mighty spring—a rushing sound in the darkness of the abyss, and ns the horse and riders vanished in the deep gloom forever, the shelving rock echoed to the trembling footsteps of a gray haired man, who raised his hands on high and gazed into the fathomless void : while above the bayr ing of the hounds, the shouts of the pursuers, and the eternal thunder of the cateraot, arose the words: - “Ha, ha 1 Lulu, in death wo are united 1” Mourning Customs. A .French writer gives a summary of the dif ferent observances among mankind, relative to mourning and funeral--cclatndntcSf- which- we think will interest our readers. All the world, says he, are acquainted with the grandeur of Roman obsequies, and funeral games. The Greeks also burnt the corpses of distinguished men, with funeral feasts, and the lamentation of hired weepers, though they generally dis played a less sumptuous grief, and better regu lated piety. - The Persians buried the bodies of the dead ; the Scythians ate them ; the Indians enveloped them, for preservation sake, in a sort of locker,: the Egyptians dried them, ex i hibited them on festal days, placed them at the table among their guests, guarded them, as their most precious possessions, and loaned and borrowed money on these strange pledges. In, onr time, the custom of dancing at funerals is only practiced in India and among some anv? age nations; but funeral entertainments still prevail in many European countries. Amongst others the ceremony of interment is solemn and silent, which nevertheless does not interfere with tne wish that all may be forgotten as spee dily as possible. Wu observe more ostentatious rites for persons of consequence. ‘ Their carna ges follow them to the graves, and sometimes their horses aro paraded, which having been made to fast, seem to partake of the affliction of the occasion. The Orientals, from whom wo borrow this custom, wont further—they made the horse in funeral processions weep, by blow ing a peculiar kind of powder up their nostrils- In Italy, the mourning was formerly white for women, and brown for men; in China it is white; in Turkey, Syria, and Armenia it is bine; in Egypt, yellow; in Ethiopia, gray. Each,of these colors had, originally, its mysti cal signification. : White is the omblom of pu rity; celestial blue indicates the space whore the soul ranges after d.eatli; yellow, ortho tinge of dead leaves, exhibits death as the end ot all human hopes, and man falling like the feat ot autumn ; gray represents the color of the oattn, onr common mother; and black, the funeral costume now adopted throughout Europe ana America, is an allusion to the eternal night. In England, the sovereign never wears black ; bo is clothed in dark purple as mourning. Till the roign' of Charles VIII, white was the funeral garb in Franco. Tho Emperor Leopold, who died in 1705, used to suffer his beard to grow in disorder during the whole period ofmonrmng In this ho imitated tho Jews. The dowagor empressqs never left off weeds, and their apart ments were hung with black till their death. The Chancellor of Franco is the only person who never wears mourning. Tho brothers, nephews, and cousins of Popes never wear it ; the happiness pf having a Pope in tho family is too*.great to allow thcmto.be affected even by his death. ... But the most remarkable of those usages is, perhaps, that of the people of those ancient na tions, who dressed themselves as women when they lost their relatives, in order, it is said, that the ridicule' attached to their vestments might make them ashamed of their grief. The Ladies of Japan in the Stereoscope. A gentleman who returned not long sinco from Japan, called uppn us a few days, since, for the purpose of showing us some sketches of Japan and its people, which he had mounted for the stereoscope according to the manner de scribed by us in the articles on Jlr. gang’s in vention. One of the sketches gave an cxceed ingly pretty view of Nagasaki; but the more interesting pictures were those of a group of females. Their faces were very attractive, front the expression of gentleness, which is their chief characteristic. Wcaro sorry, how ever, to have to destroy lire pleasuring illusion which exists as to their innocence. If we judge them by our standard, they are the most im moral on tho face of the earth. The gentleman referred to, assures us that tho women who bring you tea in tho public gardens, which abound, are, without any exception whatever, women of looso character. At Nipon, it is dif ficult even to guess at their nupaher, so nume rous aro they. This class of women are not looked upon in Japan with the same contempt os here; on tho contrary, they frequently make good marriages, and ore invariably well and kindly treated : and. in cases where they have been purchased by the,keepers of such houses from their parents when very young,.these men, if the girls give promise of beauty, expend con siderable sums on their education, and in teach ; ing accomplishments.— Ex. Tlic Number Three. ■ There is a strong prejudice in favor of the fig ure seven. The ancients spoko of it as the “sa cred number.” There were seven plagues.— The week is divided into sevendays. Ourcon stitution is changed every seven years; and the poet' has rendered memorable that figure by a production never to 'be forgotten, namely:— “We are seven i” Tlnit mathematical para dox, nine, has also its votaries, most respecta ble computers. There were also nine wonders. Let mo ask, however, what is r.ino but the square of throe? As for throe, its history, its beginning dates from the creation of the world. It is found in every branch ot science, and adapted to all classes of society. : Now, only have patience, and I will state, explain, prove. I commence with tließible. Whontho world was created, we find land, water and sky : sun, moon and stars. Noah had,but three sons, Jo nah was three days In the whale’s belly, our Sa vior passed three days in the tomb. Peter de nied Ins Savior thrice. There were three Pa triarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Abraham entertained three angels. Samnel was Called three times. “ Simon, lovest thou mo ?” was repeated three times. Daniel was thrown into a don with throe lions, for praying three titnes a day. Shadraeh, Meshecb and Ahednogo were rescued from the flames of the oven. The Ten Commandments were delivered on the: third day. Job had three friends. St. Paul speaks of faith, hope, and, charity, these three. Those, famous dreams of the baker and butler were to come to pass in three days; and Elijah prostra ted himself tlnee times on the body of the dead child. Samson deceived Delilah three times before she discoycred the source of his strength. The sacred letters on the cross are L H» S.j so' also tiip Roman motto was composed ot three words—“ /« Hoc Sigrio.” There are three con ditions, for man—the earth, heaven and hell; there is also the Holy Trinity. In Mythology, there Were tlireeigraces;, Cerberus, with bis three headss'Neptune holding his three-toothed statf ; the Oracle of Delphi cherished with veneration the tripod ; and the nine muses sprung from three. In nature,-we have male, female, and offspring; morning,, noon and night. Trees grouptiieir leaves in throes; there is throe leaf, ed clover. Every ninth wave is a ground-swell. Wo have fish, flesh and fowl., The majority of mankind die at thirty. What could bo done in mathematics without the aid of the triangle; witness the power of the wedge; and in logic three premises are indispensable. It is a com mon phrase, that “ throe is a lucky number.’! flames of (lie Months. The, names of flip months wore given by the Romans. - January, the first month, was so called from Janus, an ancient ,King of Italy, who.wos deified after hia death, and derived from the .Latin word JanuarsUs.' . February, tho secorid month, is derived from the Latin word Feburo, to purify, lienee Febru arius; for this month tho ancient Romans offer ed up expiatory sacrifices for the purifying of tho peopled . March, the third month, anciently the first month, is derived from the word Murs, the god of war. . April, tvio fourth month, is .so called from tho .Lati#>-*AprtUiB,Hi. o.,opening j /hocanaoin this, months the vegetable world opens and buds forth. • • • , '/’! !. May, the fifth month, is derived from the La tin word Majoroh,'so called by Romulus, fn-ro .spect toward the .Senators: hehco, Mains, or May.' ..ii-wt’", r , - Juno, the sixth .month, from the Latin word Jnnius, or the youngest of people. July, the seventh mouth, is derived from the Latin word Julius, and s.o named in honor of Julius Caesar. . 1 ‘ August, the ,;ctgjith month, was so tailed in honor oftjA.u'gitstiis, by, a decree of the Roman Senate, A. D. 8; Soplcuiber, the ninth month, from the Latin word Scptom, or seven, being tho seventh irom March. _* ■ October, tho tenth month, irom tho Latin word Octo, tho eighth, hence October. November, tho eleventh month, irom tho La tin word.Novem, nine; being tho ninth month from March. T ' December, the twelfth.month, irom tho Latin ot Decern, ton; so called because it was the-tenth month from March, which was anciently tho manner of beginning the year. A Case for Phrenologists, TheEan Claire (Wisconsin) Telegraph nar rates the following singular case of surgery, Tho case is that of James Campbell, a laborer in the employ- of George C. Irvine, Esq., of Dunn co., whoso brains were literally knocked out by the falling of a tree some six weeks ago,' and strange to say, he is not only still lj vl JJS’- but has regained all his faculties, and bios fair to recover his usual sound health. Dr. Crock er, of Dunnville, the surgeon, in attendance; thus describes tho case. ; . 1 . “I found the'jpatient lying insensible, with a large hole bioken in the left side of the skull just over the ear —both the IMV-frontal and pa rietal bones shattered, ih two pieces, one an inch and a half by two inches square, diiven completely into the brain and portions of the brain protruding. After re&oving the frag ment of the bone, I then removed three-fourths of a, glass of brain in conjunction with three pieces of the tree, which had also been driven quite into his head. From the first there was a copious discharge of thin watery fluid from j the ear, of course from the Eustachian-tubc. I considered the .case hopeless, as for several days after first dressing the brain continued to obze out, and pieces as large as a walnut' sloughed off before the wound began to cicatrize. The case presents also a remarkable mental pheno menon, which will interest phrenologists- The patient, before the accident, was never known to sing or whistle a tune in his life—but no sooner was he able to speak than he began to sing with perfect correctness, and now displays a taste for music amounting to a passion." A Young Woman Splits a Visiter’s Head with an Axe.—lt has been stated that a young man, named Sparks,'was murdered in Newcas tle, Botelourt county, Va., on the 14th instant, by a woman, named Polly Tucker. A corres pondent of the Salem Register says : “ Young Sparks; who was partly intoxicated, went to the house of n Miss Polly Tucker, and knocked at the door, desiring admittance, which was refused. He then went to a window and raised the sash, and put his head through, and in a good humored way threatened to enter the house in that way. ■'TSliss Tucker, it seems, had an axe in her hand, and Threatened to strike him with it. He her to strike away, which she did, with effect, striking him, poll of on the top of the head, inflicting a mortal wound. He lived about six hours, apjf died apparently with out much pain. Ho did/pot speak after the blow was given. It was one of the most delibe rate and cool blooded murders ever perpetrated. The murderess has since asserted that she had the axe ready for two weeks, for that purpose, and that sbo committed the murder coolly and deliberately. It has created an intense excite ment in this community. He was the only child of his mother, who is utterly prostrated in con sequence of the murder of her son, and it is be lieved-she cannot long survive the awful deed.” •• I’m losing flesh,” as the butcher said when he saw a man robbing his.cart. “OUR COUNTRY —MAY IT ALWAYS BE RIGHT—BUT RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY. CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, MARCH 31, 1859. (t SOMEBODY HAPPY.” ‘•Never go to bed at night,without making sure you’ve done one. good action, or made somebody happy.” ■■ , ,! .. “Humph,” said Harvey Latie, as ho closed with this sentence, a very interesting little book his Aunt Harriet had sent him from the city.— “ I don’t believe there are many folks do this : I’m sure I never did." But.Harycy, whose life was just taking hold of its thirteenth year, re volved the question in his mind, whether he had ever made anybody, happy in his life. ■ . • Alas! it was a very, meagre array of good deeds which his mcmOryimarshnled before him —he remembered saving Mary Jones from fall ing into the river one dav by polling her oft a rotten plank on the old bridge ;t and then there was little Hope Mathews—all Jast winter he took her to school on bis sled, for she was such a little Dobbin, sho never could have bea ten her way through tho s wiuds t and would have run quite a risk of being buried in the snow. !" , . The truth is, Harvey Dane wtiS a semsh boy. and, like a great many older and wiser people, ho was utterly unconscious ot the fact, and would have been as much startled by; this an nouncemenl, as you could possibly be if it were made oP'yourself. ;. “ I can take the wheat along for you jest as well as not, because I’m goin’ beyond the mill with this load o’ hay.” , j ■ , These words broke in suddenly on Harvey s meditations, and looking ont..of the window, ho saw Uncle Josiah,. who boro.'thiS cognomen throughout the neighborhood, standing in the backyard, in his Old straw hat and farmer s blouse. At that moment the-" hired wan came along with twolargo bags of wheat ready for the mill; and Undo. Josiah took one of these, andihe two men carried them' to the load of bay that stood just outside of the gate. Now, Harvey, like, all.boys,thad an especial penchant for. mounting nloadjOf bay; accor dingly, in less than two-minutiyi, he was out of the gale, hat in hand, saying my importunate ly, “.Uncle Josiah, let me go down to the mill with you ; come, now. don ! t siyy no.” .. “ Well, I guess they won’t object to taking on a few pounds mofa,” answered Uncle Josi ah, who was one of the kindest-hear ted men in the world.-as he glanced at' his fat oxen. In a second more Harvey was duly mounted on the hay pile. Uncle Josiah took up his long whip, and just then tile face of a little girl put itself outside the front door,- It was a pale pretty face, with soft hazel eyes,'and long braids of brown hair. . ■ ■ , !• Oh, Harvey, where in the world are yon going on that hay tasked aw eager voice. ■■ Down to the mill, Annie ?” ■ “ How I wish I could* go, too !" . “Oh, Annie Clark, .who ever;hoard of a girl riding on a hay-load , -i- f • Here Uncle: Josiah ’subjoined* “Let her get on if she’s a mind to. Von cap move that bag of wheat and make ro(im forh(;i) Run; Pussy, and get your bonnet;” . '• ■■ . 1 ,With a cry of delight, bounded 'browvrunilfits cpgt^^fs^wf} v this fashion— I' ■ ..“’All-the boys in the vinage.vwill, laugh at mu, I know they will, for riding on. a hay-loud with a girl- . I shall he nahni^ed-to show my face at school on Monday raotging, and I know I shan’t hear the last of it'forjiyyoar to come. I just won’t make my self ; (t laughing-stock for Annie .Clarkand il I don t go, she can t, be oause she won’t know the way 1 , back,.’ ■ _ But just at that moment the book-no had been reading recurred to .Hurley's ,mind, and also the sentence with which it concluded; and. then something rose, and whispered in his I heart- “ Poor little Cousin Annie—bow much she is to" bo pitied,.after all; now her mothers dead, and she’s shut up therein the great city nine months in the year, and! only has a sight of the country when she cbtncj up to visit Aunt Mary ! She’ll bo perfectly bejside herself with delight, at riding down to thc'old mill; and no matter what the boys say, I guess, Harvey Lane, you’re too much of a min to bo afraid'Of them, or their laughing, when you know you re been doing a good action,” . 1 Just then Annie rushed outof the gate, bon net in hand, crying—” I’m ready, Harvey, I m ready.” , . “Well, how are yon going to get on hero: you can’t climb. Anniol” asked Harvey as he removed the wheat bag. ■ Uncle Josiah, however; settled.this question, as ho took Annie in his long, irms, and tossed her up, and with a shriek,half of fear, half-of delight; she landed on the hay. -It was. a soft mellow day iij the Indian sum mer; and as you grow older! dear little chil dren, you will ’learn to love/those days more than any the- year brings us',j There were no clouds on the deep, serene skyn.and the maples still had tufts of crimson l(Aves clinging to their branches. The barbettes grew thick albng the roadside, and lookei like, red beads strung among the green leav;|; and every lit tle while the children could hjar the prattle of a brook or the dropping of nits in the woods. Harvey was very happy —oh,|ho\v much hap pier than if ho had ridden aßne with the little disappointed face of his cousiq Annie haunting him all the way. She was ilmost beside her, self; clapping her hands at the sight of every new object, and calling to tie blue birds and robins as they sWam through the air; and cer tainly it seemed to Harvey inat the country never looked - so pleasant fls iy did on tout day. At last they reached the M ; and here was a new wonder for Annie. They alighted, and Harvey took his cousin tbrodgh the old mill, with its bags and barrels of newly ground flour, its wonderful machinery, and 'the old miller. “ as white,” Annie whispered lo : Harvey, “as though it had snowed all over him.” Then they went to the stream, and saw the waters dashing and foaming over the great wheel; and here Annie did not speak one word; she stood very still, lost in wonder. . At last they started for home,-and although it was'fwo miles from the mill, Annie didn t mind it at all, but darted from one object to another, like a bird m the spring: and her laugh-oh, if you. had heard it, you would have thought it was sweeter music than the birds made. - “ Oh, just soo here, Harvey, I’ve found ever so many huckleberries!" suddenly cried, out the child, as she sprang out fronutho edge of the woods along which the road |ay. “No,you haven’t, Annie-; all the hucklo berries were gone two months ago. *• But yon just come and see for yourself, Harvey.” And Harvey went. “ Oh, no. these arejuni per berries, Annie. Don t you know them . “ No ; are they good to cat?” she Said, with a look of disappointment. . “Yes, but theyke better for medicine. I re member now, t'hcard Grandma Watson say she wanted to get Some very much for her dropsy. We’ll pick some of these for her, Annie.” Harvey took out his handkerchief. Annie tried a few of the bemes, but insisted they I weren’t half as good as huckleberries: but she was very assiduous in helping Harvey, and in a short time they gathered about a quart, and tying these in his handkerchief, the boy and his cousin started home again. , „ “ Well, this has been a first-rate Saturday, mused Harvey Lane, ns ho stood that night at the front door, watching the stars come into the sky. “And I’ve made two persons happy, anyhow— Cousin Annie and Grandma Watson. Wasn’t the old lady tickled when I gave her the junipers! Well, it seems so good that in fu turo I mean. to try to make somebody happj every day of my life; and 111 ask God to show me how.” i , ... . “ Little children, go thou, nnd do likewise . Home Magazine. The Glass of Venice. . tl mtiy appear strange, but it is true, that with all our improvements and inventions, our ancestors did certain things that, far surpassed anything we can produce in the same way, ana in fact, our modern novelties are often hut-the result of searches after lost arts and dead knowledge. Thus is ft with the glass manu factures of ■“ the bride of the sea,” artistic \ e nis. Although her wondrous story seems one of fable, and the Doge witli his retainers has now forever passed away, yet, in tire public mu seums of aft and in the cabinets of connoisseurs (which being freely translated means " know ing gentlemen.”) there are to be seen evidences of her industrial art and iter workmen s ski.l. In very early times her glass manufactures were celebrated : and. when in the thirteentli century, the Venetian' republic aided in taking Constantinople, she made good use ol the con quest by learning secrets from Eastern nations concerning the manufacture of colored glasses and enamels. At' the commencement of the sixteent/t century, the filagree glass-work was introduced on theisland of Mu ratio, where.lhc furnaces were placed, and a goblet °f Jltis njan ufacture has been bid $l,OOO for. 11ns. fila gree work, though well understood by our ma nufactures, is seldom made, for, from some cause, the delicacy of the Venetian lints and threads seem to be again unattainable. It uas produced by making thin rods of glass by im bedding strings of colored glass or opaque white glass in colorless glass, and these thin rods 'were healed, and then blown, twisted, and uel ded, and then moulded Into goblets, vases, and jugs; The effect is very pretly.and unique, the Stem and thick parts presenting a mass of varied colors which gradually thin and spread out into the form of the vessel, which seems to be made up of a series of colored curves that ' harmonize with the design of the goblet. It is ah excecdingly.elcgant manufacture, and might, ; we should think, be advantageously .revived in another republic whose Hag is composed ol stars and stripes. A correspondent, writing from Philadelphia to the Louisville Democrat, relates the follow ing: While an aged and poorly clad female wasas king almost at the corner of Fourth and Chest nut streets, a smart looking young sailor passed i within a few feet of her gazing for several sec -ends- omher hazardfface.;- ■ She, approached, £hp and extended her. palm in silence. InStantly his hand found its jvaytb his capacious pocket. and when he drew it out it was filled with gold and silver, which he-forccd her to accept, saying ■ “ There, good m.other ( take this : you may ns well havo.it as the landsharkes. The last cruise I had out of New York found'me with four hundred dollars on hand, but ns the neigh bors told me my old mother was dead, I got on a spree with the money, spent it all inside of a week, and then shipped again.” ' “ Oh, good, good sir ! you arc too kind to an old body like me. For your sake I will take it. Oh, you remind me of my poof son George, who shipped and was drowned. Oh, George. George White,whereareyounow.” “ George White?” hurriedly exclaimed the now excited sailor.— “ Why, that’s my name 1 And you —you are my mother!” ■With this he seized her in his arms, and ca ressed her affectionately, while the big tears of joy, rah down his bronzed cheek. The poor woman was entirely overcome by the recovery of her long lost child, and wept and groaned al ternately. A carriage shortly after convoyed liriewli'at'aTier the mother and son away, leaving many a mos tened eye among the crowd who witnessed the scene. . An American sloop-of war had put into an English port, and the first lieutenant went ashore to rcconnoiter. In the course of his travels, he'entered a tavern where a number of British officers were carousing. They at- once recognized the lieutenant’s nationality by his dress, and resolved to amuse themselves by bullying him. •• Well, comrade.” says one, "you belong to the United States, I see.”. . “ Right,” was the answer., “Now, what would you do to a man who should say that your Navy did not contain an officer fit for a bumboatl” continued the En glishman.. ' “ I would blow hisbrainsout!” returned our lieutenant, with great coolness. ' There was silence among her majesty's ser vants, for a moment; but finally one of them; more muddled than the rest, managed to stam mer out: “ W—well, Yank, I say it!” The American walked to bis side and replied calmly ; “It is lucky for you, shipmate, that you havp no brains to blow out!" Bow low the head, boy : do'reverence to the old man. , , , . ■ • Once like’your vicissitudes of lire* nave su vered the hair,, and changed the'round merry face to the wiry visage before you. Once that heart beat with incidents co equal to any that you have ever felt t aspirations crushed disappointment, as you are destined to bo. Once that form stalked proudly throngh.thc gav scenes, a beatf ideal of grape now the hand of Time, that withers the flower of yesterday, has warped that figure and destroyed that no ble carriage. Once, at your age, he possessed the thousand thoughts that passed through your brain ! now wishing to accomplish deeds worthy of a nook in fame ; anon imagining lito a dream that the sooner he awoke from the better. But ho has lived the dream very nca*, through. The time to awake is very near at hand: yet his eye over kindness at noble deeds ot dVmg, and the hand takes a firmer grasp of the sfttff. Bow low the head, boy, as, you would in your old age bo revereued. [£?■ Julius—" Sam, 1 feels as\j’d like' to hab my name handed down to posterity,’’ Sam—“Bo hanging will hand you down Trrnn dc gallows into do hands ob do diltocxion ists. if you don’t alter your ways, niggerV , Julius—o no, Sam! I feel 1 shall dic\ no ble death !”l ■ \ Sam— 11 What! ondc battle-field ? V Julius —“ No ; dal's all ployed out now ; uuy I want to lay, down on do hearth and mix m yN 1 ashes wid do g rate! ” A Touching Incident. Brains. Respect llxo Aged.' AT $2,00 PER ANNUM. How lo Presem Women. Tlicro is nothing in the world that we think so much of as wo do of women. Our good mo. ther is aworaan—wife, sister, and pretty cousins are women, anA tlieir daughters will be, it /Heaven spare them!) they live long enough.— "And there is a love of women in general which wo do not deny. A line, magnificent specimen of the sex, full of life and health, a ripe, red cheek and (lashing eye,- is' something that does one good to look at, as she illuminates the hum. drum sido-walks and every-day streets. A North River steamer, under full headway, with colors (lying, is rather a pretty sight—rather stirring and inspiring: and we pull up our tired nag to see her pass, and admire the swell she cuts. Comparatively, however, the steamer sinks into insiguilicauco, or some other very deep water, by the side of a well-kept, well dressed woman. There is no rubbing it out; women are the charm, blessing, beauty, and bliss of life—(men’s life, we mean, of course.) Any means that can be devised for preserving them, should be publicly made known. . They are didcrent from any other kind o( (ruit.' You can not pickle them,. You can not do them up in sugar* hud ,set them in a cold room, with a paper-soaked in brandy over their mouths. You can put them in cans and seal them up, air tight, without it jnring their form and flavor. Now, as men arose dependent up on women for life’s choicest blessings, a proper mode of preserving them becomes of great mo ment, and wo are sure that the public will thank us for an infallible recipe. ■ Have the fept well protected, then pay the next attention to the chest. The chest is the repository of the vital organs. There abide the' heart and lungs.. It is from the impressions made upon these organs through tho skin, that tho shiver comes; it is nature’s-quake—the -alarm-bell at tho outset of danger. A woman may never shiver from tho effect -of cold upon her limbs, or,hands, or head; but let the cold strike through liqr. clothing, on her chest, and oil'go her teeth into achatter;and tho wboloor ganism in commotion. One sudden and severe impression of cold upon tho chest lias Stain its tens of thousands. Therefore, white tho. foot arc well looked after, never forget the chest.— These points attended to, tho natural connec tion of the dress will supply ihc rest, and the woman is ready tor tho air.. Now let her visit her neighbors; go shopping, call upon the poor, 1 and walk for the good ol it, for the tun ol it. Kdep her away from tho stove or register.— Air that is dry and burnt, is more or less charg ed with-gasses evolved by the fuel,'and is poi son. Go up stairs and make the beds with mil tons'on. . Fly around the house like mad, and ventilate the rooms. Don’t sit pent up in a sin gle room with double windows. Fruit will not retain its fullness or flavor in air tight cans; neither wilt woman. They need air.— If the shiver come on during these operations, go directly and put something more about the chest. . . Again : Do not live in a dark room. Light fades the carpet, but it feeds the flinvers. No living animal or vegetable can enjoy health in darkness. Light is also as necessary as air, and a brown tan is tar preferable,even nsamat tcr of beauty, to a sickly paleness of complex- ion. Thus'much in regard-(o the physical moans for preservation. The-moral aremietins import arit. .Every, 1 woman should be'nmn-icd to an ex cellent mail. Marriage, it is tine, brings care and’wear, but. it. is the ring worn that, keeps bright, and tbc watch that lies still and unwound that gets out of order. The sweet sympathies involved in relation to the family, tho new en ergies developed by new. responsibilities, the new compensation for alf outlays of; strength bring about a. delightful play of the heart and intellect, which, in their reaction upon the body, produce an oflect that is npthing iqss than pre servation, Thou, there is a higher moral power than this—one which wo speak o( soberly and honestly. No one is completely armed against the encroaching ills Of life, who has in the heart no place (or religion. Tl'ie calmness,,the pa. tionco and the joy and hope,'that ace in posses sion of that woman, heart is right in its highest 1 relation, can never tail to preserve and highthen 1 every .personal power and charm that she pos. 1 sesaos. - , ’ Tliorol yon have tho recipe. Some of it is not tho less sober truth. It lies within II the cure Cor many a disease, —tho preventative for more. It might be made longer; hut when rye see its preaerptions universally adopted, it will bp time to bring forward tire remainder. •‘Go in, Tfffe!’’ The residents of North "Water street were af forded no little amusement a few days since, by the incident narrated to us in substance as lol lows: A countryman, tho owner of a largo but usu ally good matured dog, drove in town on the day staled. Near the railroad crossing on Water street, “Tiger” fell into bad company, a regu lar muss ensued.’ Taken suddenly and almost unawares, the countryman’s dog seemed hardly to comprehend whether It was a “free.light” in earnest, or only the rough sort of play of village “bounds;” until ho found himself in a “throat .to-moutb” contest with a regular fighting char, actor in the shape of,,a trained bull-dog, and getting tho worst of it. His maslcr, however, by this time comprehended tho nature of tho muss, and springing from bis wagon caught the bull dog by his “narrative,” and endeavored to separate the combatants. " “Lot that dojf alone, or I’ll lam yon over tho head!” growled a rough and excited looking customer, standing by—who proved to bo the owner of tho bull. ■ “Oh, then, you want ’em to fight, do ye 1” ejaculated homespun, dropping the end '; and then at the top of his voice, shouted, “Go in I’igc* I” • And Tigo rfW“go in.” Instantly the tide of battle was turned. Tigo secured and was mak ing good use of his vantage ground, when Bull’s owner suddenly became converted to a peace maker. Suiting tho action to tho idea, he made a feint to release his dog from the vice like jaws of Tiger. ■ “Lot that dog alone or I’ll lam You over the head!” shouted (bo countryman; and ho straightened up and swelled out to such huge proportions, that “Bock street” desisted, ter ror-stricken at tho menace. .Tigol- pui'sued his work in hand until the pi teous “ky-ye I” of his assailant seemed to pro duce pity in tho heart of tlio former; for ho re laxed his hold, and the latter slhnk aivay, with the appearance cf three legs behind. As the countryman jumped into his wagon ho called out to the bull-dog’s master.—“ Whe never you want another light, jnst say the word, as me and*Tige alters travel together!” Geneva Gazelle. An Editor in Heaven.—A paper published In a neighboring State, alter giving rt long obi tuary of a deceased brother of the quill, thus, in glowing strains, concludes: . ; (t Are wo not glad also that such an' editor is in Heaven ?” ■ • n There the cry of 'more copy, shall never again fall upon his distracted ears. There hu shall never bd abused any inofo by his political antagonists, With UeS and detractions that should shame a doriion to promulgate. There ho shall bo no mpro used as a ladder for the aspiring to kick down ns they reach the desired lioighth, and need him no more, there ho shall bo able to see the immense masses of mind ho has mo ved, all unknowingly and unknown as ho has boon during his weary pilgrimage on earth. There ho will find all articles credited, not a clan of his thunder stolen—and thorn shall bo Vno harrid typographical errors to set him in a fWer. Wo are glad tho editor is In Heaven. , Mr. VtVight, our candidate for Auditor,Gent crab, is ri native of Philadelphia) and a resident of what was the borough of Frank for t uqder the old municipal division of-the, county. , ;Ho has served for seven years in the State Legisla ture—four as a member of the House (the. last as Speaker of that body,) and threfe as a Sena tor. During this long term of public service, he has become perfectly familiar witlnhe affairs •of'Our State government, in all their multitudi nous details, and baa earned for himself a repu tation for honesty, fidelity, and conscientious ileVotiori to Democratic principles, of tvfncli anjr public man might well be proud. Mr. Wright possesses all the qualifications that arc so es sential to ibe'inlportant position of the chief of I he Accounting Department of pur Government! He has capacity, experience, and above all. that fearless integrity of character which insures aii adherence to the strict line of. duly under all circumstances and in every emergency. .Id short, he is a man wlipm the people can depend upon, and to whom they may entrust their af fairs in the most implicit Confidence.. If qnah fications so requisite in all public servants, art. yet estimated at their proper value, lie will W. elected by a triumphant majority. , Maj. Rowe, our candidate for Surveyor Gen-' era), is a resident of Franklin county. He is already well known to the people of the State;, having been elected to this office in 1850. Tho. lideliiy and efficiency with which he has ,dis charged his public duties, have earned for him the unlimited confidence and respect of all par-, tics. His nomination for h second term, is'thi best possible endorsement that the. Democracy; of Pennsylvania could give hini. and his past, course is ah earnest of what may be expected of him in the future. The people will hardly’ consent to a change which will deprive them!; selves of tho tried services of so valuable an offi- ; ccr. '.it The Convention, as will be "seen, repodiafeu the State Administration, by the decisive vote of ' 74 to 37. ~ We would have’ been much better.-', pleased,' lihd no such vote been,taken. For .the . sake of ■,conciliation and peace, we would hdvc.' t prefcmrd.lo see tho question of endorsing Gov. Packer waived for the present; so that he might ’ have had an opportunity, if so disposed ~torc- ' trace his steps, and repair the damage his. fac tious course has inflicted upon the organizaliod ' of lire Democratic party in Pennsylvania. But ns the test was presented by one'of his owii friends, in tho face', of an unmistakable senti-•• rnent against him, it Imd to bo met ,boldly, and/, in sucl) a way as to involve no compromise of principle, or of fealty to party discipline arid party usage. Hie Governor has only himself to blame for the senlenceoif condemnation which NO. 42. has been passed upon him. His own acts have provoked it. Nominated and elected by the votes of an united IkcmoCrntty, they had a right', to expect of him a faithful adhesioq to the par- , ty, and an ardent direction of the influence p{ . his administration toward maintaining unity of feeling and hannony Of action among its mem- ' hers. But ho those to make a troublesome na tional question—Willi Which, ds aStatcExecu tive, he had no concert—the pretext for : array- , mghirasolf against , the greit majority of hid political friends, and fdr encouraging the disor ganization and division in our ranks which have conspired to bring about our recent do-.- foals. At llio last general election, in partlcu-,,, lar, the Governor’s appointees, with but two of three honorable exceptions, were found arrayed in open hostility to the regular nominees of the ; party, and in many. instances, in union with, the Opposilion which defeated them. If, these, acts were not advised and sanctioned, by the Executive, they at least were quietly acquiesced''- in by him ; and it is an established rule of eth ics, that whep a man permits ip be done what ■ho has the power to prevent, he is justly charge able with its results. If the existence of tho Democratic party is to be preserved, it must ; purge itself- of‘all the factious and turbulent elements which have been too long sufl,crcd;.W -• 1 distract its councils and impair lire., unity in , • which alone its strength consists.' Better ttT ■ meet defeat, boldly, with ils organization intact-," ! than to purchase a questionabloasccndency-by-. ! yielding to . those who have shown,.by tfieit, previous acts, that they are ready to betraycthd 1 party into thc hands of the enemy whenever their own selfish interests happen to be thwart 1 . ed, , ; . . This emphatic rebuke will not he relished by Governor Packer and his mutinous adherents,! But the honest and true Democracy of Uni Commonwealth, in whom, after all, is our oniy reliable hope of future success, will approve, iti. Mr. J. T. Headley is publishing, in a religious paper *• The Dairy of a Chaplin in the Army of,the Revolution.” From it we extract t tho following:— - . . , .... “•At the ballln of Bunker Ilill, as the Brit-, ish were advancing through Charleston to the attack, a soldier entered a house where the husband lay sick. Ills wife'was young and : beautiful, and hearing the soldier in the nerft room, went out to'meet him. lie immediately advanced insulting proposals to her. Being angrily repulsed,'he attempted violence, whai' her screams aroused her sick husband,from his , btd. Nerved with the sudden ckcitcmcnt, he leaped up. and seeing his wife smuggling in the arms of a British soldier, ran liirii through the body. The man fell back on the floor, and! an his eyes met those of his destroyer, lie shrieked, dot, !‘my brother!” Tho recognition was, mutual, and with the exclamation, “ I have murdered mv brother,” the over-excited invalid 3 husband felfdcad on tho corpse. These unimp-: py brothers were Scotchmen. Ono had emi grated to America several years before, tho oth-, er had joined the English army, and alter d" long separation, thus met to perish tbgeiher.” CoxsTAsxisoriiE ExLioniKSEn.—lstalubobl— the City of the Sultan—is last becoming infidel, and it promises at an early date to be illumined witlTn stream of light from Christendom. 1 Gaft; pipes are now being laid down, by flip order- of the municipal council, in its streelswhich, here tofore, Imvo been almost Impassable alter dark. Knowledge and-scienco afe botihcl by no con-"- scrvatlvo prejudices or national peculiarities.— They attend the footsteps of the enterprising in all ages, and desert the laggards in the progress of civilization. Athens,'once, the school.and centre of the world’s civilization in arts and sciences, has lately been illumined with gas by English mechanics; and Constantinople, once tho focus of eastern learning, is now seeking, light from the same source. Schools of philo sophy and art flourished at Athens and Consfan. tinople, when, the people 6f England'lived in. caves and had no written history. Rome—thu Imperial City—once mistreSs of the world, has also lately been receiving gas light from Eng land, bnce hei- farthest and most insignificant colony. . O' Whim you sec a man bn a moonlight night • trying to convince his shadow that it is improp er to follow a gentleman, you may be sure that It is high titne for hirii to Join a temperance so--' ciety. ... [£7* A large portion of . the swamps of Flori da is said to be capable of producing Hvo hun dred bushels of frogs to the aero, with alligators sufficient for fencing. [tv” Now is the time to trim yobr grape t ines; Jf put off too late, they will ho injuird by ‘‘ bleeding.' 1 ITT" The road ambition travels is too narrow . for friendship, too crooked for loVc, too ragged ( for honesty, too dark for silence. ITT'“Good morning. Smith, you look slee py ” “Yes,” replied Snlith, “I was up all night.” “Up where? 1 . 1 . ..".Up stairs in bed." [HT-Tlio latest novelty is. a dog who lias a whistle growing bri the end of his tail. Heal ways calls himself when wanted. ; > . O’A Souihcrn paper says “ a man named. Philip Jcfsec. died in Russel county. YaV, ft' short time since, at the unusually great age of One hundred and twenty-nine year’s.” - Ffoih the Reading Gauttc, ME STATE CONVENTION. A Thrilling Revolutionary Incideitlr
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers