Imericak volunteer. . PDBHSnED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BY Jotan B. Bratton.'', TERMS. Subscription.— One Dollar and Fifty Cents, ■aid in advance ; .Two Dollars 11 paid within the voar; and Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid within the year. These terms will be rig idly adhered to in every instance. No sub scription discontinued until all arrearages are paid unless at the option of the Editor. ■Advertisements —Accompanied by the cash, and hot exceeding one square, will bo inserted throe times for One Dollar, and twenty-live cents for enoh.additional insertion. Thoseofagreat •ter length in-proportion. > Job-Printing —Such as Hand-bills, Fosting bills, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &o„ &0., exe cuted with accuracy and at the shortest notice. fSnEticnl. SU HM K B LO NCI NG . Ah! my heart is ever waiting, Waiting for the May; Waiting for the pleasant rambles AYhere the blooming.hawthorn brambles, With the woodbine alternating, Scent the dewy way. •Ah! my heart is weary waiting, Waiting for the May. •Ah! my heart is sick with longing, Longing-for the May j Longing to escape from study To the young face fair and ruddy, And the thousand charms belonging To the summer day. Ah! my heart is sick with longing, Longing for the May. All! my heart is sore with sighing. Sighing for the May; Sighing for tho sure returning, ■ When the summer beams are burning. Of sweet flowers that dead or dying All the winter lay. Ah ! my heart is sore with sighing, Sighing for the May. . Ah ! my heart is pained with throbbing, , Throbbing for the May i Throbbing for the sea-side billows. Or the water-wooing willows, Whore in laughing and in sobbing, Glide the streams away. , ’ Ahl my heart,, my heart is throbbing, Throbbing for the May. Waiting, sad, dejected, weary. Waiting for the May j Spring goes by with wasted warnings, Moon lit evenings, sun-bright mornings f Summer conies, yet dark and dreary Life still ebbs away. Man Is ever weary, weary, . Waiting lor the May. THE CHILD'S GARDEN. Beneath the budding lilacs, A little maiden sighed— The Hist flower in her garden ' That very morn had died. I thought as that child's,sorrow Rose wailing on the air, My heart gave forth an echo,, Long bound in silence there. For though time brings ns roses. And golden fruits beside, We’ve all some desert garden Where life’s first primrose died. ®iocellniiEDUo, Mr. Brown’s Mishaps. Mr. Elinhalct Brown was a bachelor of thirty five or thereabouts one of those men who seem to be born to pass, through the world alone. Save this peculiarity, there was nothing to dis tirigiiish Mr. Brown from Ibe multitude of other : Bkiwos who are-born, grown up and die in this world of ours. _ It chanced that Jlr- Brown had occasion to visit a town some fifty miles distant, on mat ters of business. It was his first visit to the place, and he proposed stopping for a day.an order to give himself an opportunity to look leisurely along the street, he was all at once acoosled by a child of five, who ran up to him, exclaiming; -‘Father, I want you to buy mo some more ° a " Fa'llier was it possible that he, a bache lor, was addressed by -that title 3 He could not e *lvgi 10 were you speaking to, my dear l” ho inouired of the little girl. - -I spoke to you, father, said the little one, ■. thought Mr. Brown, “this is cm taTam’not your father, my dear,” he said ; ■ chdd'lauglied' heartily, evidently think- father you areshe'said. “but you are going to buy me some candy. ~\Vs, yes, I’ll buy you a pound, if you won t ' call .me father any more,” said Brown, nervous- j& ' y The litjflß girl clapped Her hands with delight. HI The promise was all she remembered, lilti., ■ Mr. Brown proceeded to a confectionary store, and actually bought a pound of candy, which ho placed in the hands-of tho-httle girl. |ip. In coming out of the store they encountered iN , the little child's'mother. ' lir ‘ r “Oh. mother,” said the little girl, “just see C■ ■ how much candy father has bought mo. Wi- “You shouldn’t have bought her so much at W- a time, Mr. Jones.” stud the lady, "I m afraid S' y she will make herself’sick. . But how did you happenriifgft home so quick? I did not ex- Jones!—l—madame,” said the embarrassed ll - Mr. Brown, it’s a mistakel ain’t Jones at all, fe It isn’t my name. I am Eliphalef Brown, of , and this is the first time I ever came “Good heavens! Mr. Joncs, what has put this sillv tale into your head? You have con cluded to change your name, have you S per haps’it is your intention to chapgo yopr wife Mrs. Jones’ tone was now defiant,; ana tlps tended to inbrease’Mr. Brownes Cmbarassnicnt. “I havn’t any wife, nladamo ; I never had 4ny. On my word as a gentleman,' never was jo you intend to palm this tale otf . ” said Mrs. Jones, with excitement. “If ymTarenot married, I’d like to know who la "i ? ,” VC no doubt you are a most Respectable W” and Mr. Brown, and I conjecture, from Shat vou have said, that your name is Jones; f. a Jne is Brown, m'adame, and always was. *“ ( ijfcK.”'P*id her mother suadenly ta j. ■ h( , P child by the arm, and leading her up to'lln Brbwd, “Melinda, who is' thfs gentle *““Wbv. that’s father!” was the child’s imme diate reply, as she confidently placed her hand “You hear that, Mr. Jones, do you? You hear what the innocent (ihild says, and yet f,. v e the unblushing impudence to deny that you are my husband I The voice of nature, Sneaking through the child, should overwhelm Vou. I’d lik= t 0 know, if you are not Her •father, why you are buying candy for her? But I presume you never saw her ’ before in ;your life." , ~, T ,in ..j never did. On my honor,'l never did. 1 ■told her I would give her the dandy if she wouldn’t call mo father any more.” You did, did you ? Bribe your child not to tall you father? Oh, Mr. Jones, that is infa mous! Do you intend to desert me. sir. and leave mo to the cold charities of the world? and >s this your first step?” Mrs. Jones was so overcome that, witnoiu warning. sho fell back upon tlie sidewalk in a feinting fit. ’ . _ Instantly a number of persons ran to her as- • • - Jim m ran BY JOHN B. BRATTON. YOL. 45. sistance. “Is your wife subject to fainting this way 1 asked the first comer of Brown. She isn’t my wife. I don’t know anything about her.” “Why, it’s Mrs. Jones, ain’t it?” “Yes, but I’m not Mr. Jones.” _ _ “Sir, said the first speaker, sternly, “this is no time to jest. ”1 trust that, you are not the | cause of the excitement which must have occa sioned your wife’s fainting fit. You had bet ter call a coach and carry her home directly. Poor Brown' was dumbfounded. I wonder, thought ho, whether it s possible that I’m Mr. Jones without knowjng it. Per haps I’th really Jones, and - have gone crazy, in consequence of which I fancy that my_name is Brown. And yet I don’t think I am Jones, In spile of all I insist that my name is Brown. “Well, sir, what are you .waiting for ? It is necessary that your wife should be removed at once. Will you order a carriage ?” Brown saw that there was no use to prolong the discussion by a denial. He, therefore, without contesting the point, ordered a hackney coach to the spot. Mr. Brown accordingly lent ah arm to Mrs._Joncs,-who had somewhat re covered, and was about to close the door upon her. . . Why, arc you not going yourself 1" “Why, no, why should I ?" “Your wife should not go alone; she .has hardly recovered." Brown gave a despairing glance at the crowd around him, and deeming it useless to make op position where so many seemed thoroughly con vinced that he was Mr. Jones, followed the lady in Where shall I drive ?” said the whip. don’t know,” said Mr. Brown. Where would you like to be carried 1” ‘■Home, of course," murmured Mrs. Jones. “I ddn’t know," said Brown.' ••No. 19, H street,” said the gentleman already introduced, glancing contemptuously at Mr. Brown. - ••Will you help me put, Mr; Jones? said the lady.; I am not fully recovered from the fainting fit into which your cruelty drove me.” “Are you quite sure that I am Mr. Jones? asked Brown, with some anxiety. ‘•Of course,” said Mrs. Jones. : “Then,” said he resignedly, “I suppose X am. But if you believe me, I was firmly con vinced this morning that my name was Brown, and to tell the truth, I havn’t any recollection of this house." ' ’ Brown helped Mrs Jones into the parlor, but good' heavens, conceive the astonishment of all, when a man was discovered seated in an arm chair, who was the very fac simile of Mr. Brown, in form, feature; and in every other re spect! ... “Gracious I” exclaimed the lady, which — which is my husbaud ?” An explanation was. givon, the mystery cleared hp, and Mr Brown’s pardon sought for the embarrassing mistake. It was freely ac corded by Mr. Brown, who was quite delighted to think that, after all, he was not Mr. Jones, with a wife,and child to boot, , . Mr. Brown has riot since visited the place where this comedy of errors happened. Ue is afraid of his iudcntiiy. -3 :<: - - • • A HERO. Miss'.Pnrdoe, in a recent work,, relates the following interesting anecdote: At the battle of Montmirail, a young officer, named Durosier, chanced to be in attendance oh the Emperor at the moment when it became essential to dispatch an order to One of the gen erals of the Division ; and Napoleon, hastily summoning him to his side, gave him instruc tions to deliver it without delay- . ‘•Spare neilher yourself nor your horse, sire, he sternly said; for there is not a moment to lose, and return at once to report to me that ray order.has been promptly obeyed.” , Durosier galloped oft amid a shower of shot and shells, and within a quarter of an hour he was again beside the Emperor. His duty was | behaved well, monsieur," said Napoleon, when he had received his report: •‘you have a Stout hoait and a clear head, though you are still only a youngster, I give you a captain's brevet, and attach you to my [person. What is your name?” “Durosier. sire.” ... ‘.‘lt seetiis familiar to me. ■ Ou what occasion have I before heard it?” **l was the colonel of the boy battalhon, your "Alfl Iremember. Well, that is an addi tional reason why I should attach you to my Pe “lt n is too late,, sire,” murmured the young soldier.” , , “Too late, Captain Durosier,—and why . “Sire, they have hit me,” and as he spoUehe withdrawn handkerchief saturated with blood, from the breast of his coat. “All will soon be oyer—Pira V Empereur, Viva la France. .He -reeled for an instant in his saddle, and and then fell heavily into the arms-of an officer •who had sprang forward to support him. Du rosier was a corpse. ... , j So young !—so young !—and so brave -—and to die on his first battle field!” exclaimed the emperor, as he bent down, for an instant, oyer the body. Poor boy ! Poor boy !" Then setting spurs to his charger, he gallo ped off as if unable to linger over so sad a spec tacle.— Episodes in the French History. fler.Qii Poverty. Talking about the heroism displayed upon the battle-field, what is that, asks a contempo rary i compared ttf'Thj) liepism of poverty . Think a minute over the idea. The hod car rier who supports a family of eight children and two dogs on a dollars day,,displays more true heroism than is required to effect a con quest on a’ battle-field., . General SabrOjWill face a battery of ,S hundred guns without flinching,, but if called upon to face ah unpaid creditor fouFtiffies a ’week, as" Trowel' the'bricklayer, does, when out of Work, he woffid grow low spirited, ?nd take to arscnio in a fortnight. The heroisffi of, the. is Kept; (fp Kf bass drums, clarionets, and prais'e from the newspapers. Such heroism may or may not be a better principle: but there is no qqestion ing the courage required in the prosaic' dhti6a 0 f ife—the bringihg up a family 'by shedding prespiration at the rate of ten cents ail hour. Is there.? Fidelity. Never forsake a friend. When cnerniea ga thcr around—When sioaness falls on the heart -when the world is dark and cheerless-then is the time to try true friendship. They who turn from the scene of distress, hetray their hy pocrisy, and prove that interest only theW. If you have a friend, who loves you and Studies your interest and happiness oe Siire to sustain him in adversity. Let him leel that his former kindness is appreciated, and that his love was not thrown away. Real fidel ity may bo rare, but it exists in the heart. Who has not seen and felt Us power ?_ Ihey only deny its worth and power, who never have loved a friend, or labored to make a friend hap py. A Singular monstrosity. The Philadelphia correspondent of the New York Tribune, under date of April 2d, has the following: “A child, seven months old, was recently brought to the Jefferson College Hospital from the western part of the State, having appended to its left cheek a large mass of flesh, somewhat resembling a tumor. This mass grew more rapidly than the child itself. At birth" it was no larger than an apple, but when brought here last-month it was nearly a foot long. • Its face was neither smooth nor regular, but was divided into several globular masses, while pul sation was distinctly perceptible, regular and uninterrupted, from'ferty to a hundred beats per minute. It was traversed by a large arte ry, showing that it was largely supplied with blood;. The tumor was connected.to the child s cheek by a pccuiiar caul-Iil;c membrane, pierced with holes, and its presence was a source of con stant irritation to the child, though supported by the mother’s hand. How to remove this huge tumor without destroying the life of the child, was tho great surgical problem. The parents, warned of the clanger, were yet ex tremely anxious to have the frightful parasites taken off. Dr. Pancoast, under whose charge the patient had been placed, decided that the use of the knife would result in a fatal hemor rhage, and determined to divide the caul-like membrane by using a French surgical instru ment, the ecraseur, which, by forcing down the skin, and bruising the .vessels thoroughly be fore the chain of the instrument cuts .through the mass, effectually prevents all serious blee ding. The operation was performed in presence Of an immense assemblage of medical men, stu dents and others. • : “The child was placed under the influence of ether, when. all pulsation in the parasite was observed to cease. The instrument being ap plied, the chain.was rapidly worked until the parts were well compressed, and afterwards vqjry slowly. ■ In fifteen minutes the tumor came awav with the instrument, the chain hav- ing worked through the connecting, membrane, while scarcely a drop of blood followed the re- i moval, and but one small vessel required a liga- I ture. The surface left'on the'cheek was about two inches square,’and the tumor weighed two , and a half pounds. The whole operation was , entirely successful, and. the child lives and has fully recovered. But the extraordinary part remains to be told. The tumor-thus takeh off was found to contain a living child, imperfectly developed, it is true, but still a living child. Fingers were seen, and a portion of a rudimen tary, arm. The intestines were well developed, and no doubt was entertained of its being a male child. A. body, presumed to be the heart, contained, imperfectly formed, auricles and ventricles. The mesenteric arteries and veins were of large size. The dissecting knife, came repeatedly in contact with the 'asseous matter of a rudimentary skeleton. Fat '.was found in large quantities everywhere. It was, in fact, a repetition of the Siamese twins, only less per fectly developed.. These results .were received with profound’ astonishment, by the crowded audience who witnesped.fthe. operation, the . caseijBsaid.to.be tiqiquc in the uimalsoTbomau malformation. V Sensible Advice to loans Men. The following article from the CayngaCAip/, contains so many valuable suggestions, and such pithy advice to our young men that we publish it, and hope that every person, both old and young—male and female—will carefully rend it, and then cut it out to read the next time they are afflicted and tormented with the blues. Every word of it is true, and, by re membering its injunctions, you will be greatly bonefittodThat n'ever’ll do young man 1 H o use to stand on the sidewalk and whine about hard luck, and say that every thing goes against you. You are not ot half the consequence your talk would load us to believe. The world hasn’t declared war against you. You are like all the rest of us—a mere speck on the earth s surface. Were you this moment to go down m living tide, but a bubble would linger for a mo. ihent upon the surface, and even that would vanish unnoticed. The heart is full^of -hope and ambition, but is not missed when it censes to beat.' One such ns you would not leave a r '*You are a coward—a coward— in the battle. There’s no fight in yon. You have surrendered without a struggle, and now whine because you are beaten! You are not worthy of a triumph for vou have not yet earned it. Ip the garret, hilt," and dripping cellar are ten thousand he roes who would put you to shame. They must toil or starve. The strife is a desperate one with them, lor they wrestle with want, while ragged and despairing ones watch at the lone hearth the fearful contest. Strong men look death in the eye when their sinews are strung bv the wail of hungry childhood. Shame on you! In the full vigor of heal h and manhood, -no mouth but y.ur own to fill, and no back but your own to cover, and yet crouching under the first scourginga of adverse fortune. You know nothing ot thestoiwfor vou have seen but the summer. One cloud has frightened you, and you think you are hardly dealt by. You will bo lucky, if you find no darker shadows across your path. Stand up, young sir, pull your hands from your pockets, throw off your coat, and take fortune by the throat. You may bo thrown again and again, but hang on. Put away the nonsense that the world is all against you. Totn’f so./> Yourdes tinv is in your own strong arm! With an un bonding will,- and honor and truth for your guide, the day is your own. . „ Ho capital, eh ? You have capital—God has given you perfect health. That is an immense capital to start -on. You have . youth and strength—all invulnerable: Add- a will to do, put your sinews in motion, and you will win. A man in full health and strength, should never whine or despair because fortune does not pour a stream of gold.in eagles into his pockets. If you have no money, work and got it. Industry, economy and integrity will do wonders. From speh beginnings fortunes have been reared.— They can be again. Will you fry it? Or will you wait for the stream of gold to run by, so that you can walk dry shod into the Eldorado of wealth 7 Or, will you mpet the waves defl hflfly, and be th'd architect of your own for- U is glorious to conquer in the strife. ivil Company. Saphronms, oi wise teacher,.would riot suffer even his grown up Sons and, daughters to asso ciate with those Whose conduct was' riot, pure and upright. “Dear father,” said the gentle Eulalie to hiril one day, when he forbade her, in oompdny with her brother, to visit the vola tile Lucinda: “.Dear father, you must think us very childish, if you imagine that we would be exposed to danger by it.” The father took, in silence a dead coal frorri.tho hearth, and reached it to his darigHter. It will not burri you, my child; take it.” Eulalie did so, and behold her delicate rirhTte hand was soiled and blackened, and, as it chanced, her white dress also. “We cannot bo tori' careful in, handling rioals,” said Eulalie, in vexation. “Yes, truly, said her father. “You see, my child, lhat coals, even if they do not burn, blacken, bo it is with the company of the vicious. If a man is happily married, bis “rib” is worth all the other bones in his body. , “OUR COUNTRY —MAT IT ALWAYS BE BIGHT —BUT RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY. CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 1859. 03” Fashionable drosses make dean crossings. 03” Lies are hiltlesa swords, which cut the hands that wield them; 03” What is that which shows others what it cannot see itself I A mirror. 03” The costume of the SpaMsh ladies has not changed lor two hundred yc^ns. 03* Ink is a caustic which sififteUmes burns the fingers of those who use of it.?' Q3=- Whatever enlarges hope,; will also exalt courage. ‘ 03” An indiscreet personls like all unsealed letter, which everybody can- peruse. 03” He is no moan philosophd|.who can give a reason for half of What ho thinks. 03” To speak harshly to a pfeon of sensi bility is like striking a harpsichord yith your fists. ■' 03“ Religion and modiclne.ar&ndt. tesponsi blc for the faults and mistakes of their doctors. 03” To act upon a determination made in anger, is like embarking in a vessel during a storm. ' ■■■!' uC?" Always bo up at sunrise if you wish to have tho most golden of prospobts. lt Is with life as wlth cofloe: ho who drinks it pure must hot drain'ft jp the dregs. Q3=- \xy- Speakbnt little, and to tiio purpose, and you will pass for somebody.'; Ky- If a man roapoth whatsoever ho scweth, what a harvest ot .coats and breeches our tailors will have one qf these days, K?” There are one thousand'five hnhdred square miles ot ice in the Alpine range, from eighty to six hundred feet thick.- It is a pretty saying of an bid writer, that men, like books, begin and.end with blank, loaves—infancy and sonilitjv ~, D'y- A head properly constituted can accom modate itself to whatever pillows the vicissi tudes, ot jbrtuhe may place under it. gy- Fools line the hedges which bound the road of life: what can the wise man do hut smile as he passes along jt 7 \xy~ If men break their promises, remember int God never breaks his. Ho promises—“As ly days thy stiongth shall bol” . K?” A gentleman was. threatening to beat a dog which barked intolerably. !“ Why,” ex, claimed an Irishman, ‘‘would yon beat tho dum baste for spakin’out 7” •; When Jemima went to school, she was asked why the noun bachelor .was singular.— “Because,” she replied, “ it is so very singular they don’t get married.” ; To do good to bur enemies is to resem ble the incense whose aroma perfumes tho fire by which it is consumed.' ’’ , a?* In the conception of M nhomet’B paradise, thcro is ho distinction between aperfeet woman, and an angeV. , ■ i Qy Jllen are never Constant or fixed huf when,thcy,4re worn but or rusty. ' ' . 'V--'—'”'’’'!' ■/ - 05” True beauty Is bnl vlrfiio tnsdo visible -in outward grace. Beautyyiceiara; disjoin ted by nature herself. ' 05” Wisdom Is the olive which springs from from the-heart, blooms on thetongue, and boars fruit -in the action. 05- Life may bo merry, as well as useful.— Every poison that owns a mouth has always a good opening for a laugh. 05” The man who encores a pathetic song is capable of anything—even of sending his plate twice for soitp when it tickles his palate. . Q - a, man passes for a sage If he seeks for wisdom i if ho thinks ho has found it, hods a ibol. . ■ • A New Nursert, Rhyme.— • A wife, to dress In the mode, I guess, - Picks a husband’s bones quite clean. And poor Mr. Spratt Must cry “No fat!” y Blood is the mighty river of life,the myste rious centre' of' chemical and- .vital actions -os wonderful ns they arc indispensable, soliciting our attention no less by the many problems it presents to speculative ingenuity, than by the practical conclusions to whiph .those specula lions lead; It is a torrent impetuously rushing through every part of the body; carried by an elaborate net-work of vessels, .which, m the course of the twelve months, cpnycy to the va rious' tissues hot less than three thousand pounds weight ot nutritive matoHpl, and convey (com the. various tissues three!thousand pounds weight of waste. At every foment of our byes there is nearly ten pounds of this fluid rushing in one continuous stream, from the heart through the great arteries, which branch and'branch like a tree, the vessels becoming smaller and smaller as they they are invisible to the naked.eye, and then thev are called capillaries, (haip-like vessels,) al though they are no more toy be compared to hairs! than hairs are with cables, ihese ves sels form a net work liner thaw tho flnest kce so fine, indeed, that if we pierce the surface,at I almost any part with a needle, we open one. of them, and let out its blood. Ip these vessels the blood yields some pf its nutrient materials, and receives in' exchange spme of the wasted products of tissue; thus modified.- tho stream continues its rapid course backwards to the Upn-t throuch a system of veins, which com mence In the myriad of capillaries that form the termination of the arteries; ; The yems. instead of subdividing like the arteries, become gradu a ly less and less numerous, their twigs entering branches, and the branches: trunks, until they reach the heart. No sooner has the bipod poured into the heart from the ve.ns .han .t rushes through the lungs, and from them back again to the heart and arteries, thus completing the circle, or circulation. , , | This wonderful stream, ceaseleMly piroula ling, occupies the very centre of the vital or- I midway bstween tho functions of nu trition ind excretion, feeding, and stimulating the organs into activity, apd removing from them all their useless material. In its torrent, upwards of forty different substances arc hur ried! along: it carries gases, it earr ea salts-it even carries metals and soaps! Millions of or gaiiizcd cells float in US liquid; and of these cells, which’by some are considered organized entities, twenty millions are aaid to d.e at eve ry pulse of ,thc heart, tp tcTeplaced by other millions. Tho iron wh.ch it, washes onward can bo separated. Professor Berard used to exhibit S lump of it in bis lecture-rtom—nay one ingenious Frenchman has suggested, coins should be struck fifoih thp mejnl extrac ted' from the blood of .great men, Let no one suggest that we should wash our hands with the soap extracted froth Similar sources. BlackivoodsMagaztne . qy Snooks wonders where all the pillow cases go to. Ho says he never asked a girl what she was making, while engaged in white sewing, without being told it was a pillow case. Boluntffr. ■i : " VARIETIES. : The Hirer of. life.; , —.» Ml ~ r,! sy-i- s. •. —. I—— Death of Dr. Franklin. As I rapped at the door, who should come to open it but old Sarah Humphries. I was right clad to see her. for I had known her a long time. She was of the people called Friends; and a mighty good sort of. a body she was, too. The great people set a heap of store by her, for she was famous throughout the town tor nur sing and tending on the sick. Indeed, many of them, I believe, thought they could not sicken and die right, if they had not old Sarah Hum phries With them. Soon as she saw me, she Sa - Well, David, how dost ?” „ .. “ Oh, much after the old sort, Sarah, said I; “ but that’s neither here nor there —1 came to sue Dr. Franklin.” ... , , •• Well, then,” said she, " thou art too late, for he is just dead 1” “ Alack-a-day!" said I, “ then a great, man is gone.” , , , “Yes, indeed,” said she, “and a good one, loo; for it seemed ns though he never thought the day went away as it ought, if he had not done somebody a service. However, David, he is none the worse ofl for that now, where he is gone to: but come, as thee come to see Benja min Franklin, thee shall see him yet.’ And she took me into his room. As we en tered', she pointed to him as ho lay on his bed, and said— ■ ’ . , 1 .. There—did you ever see anything look so natural?” • And he did look' natural, indeed. His eyes were closed—but that you saw he did not breathe, you would have thought he was m u swept sleep, he looked so calm and happy. Ob serving that his face was fixed right towards the chimnev, I cast my eyes that way, and be hold ! just’ above the mantle-piece was a noble picture. Oh, it was the picture of our Savior on the cross. I could not help calling out , “ Bless us all, Sarah 1 what is all this . “ What dost thou mean, David 1" said she, quite crusty. _ “Why, how came this picture hero, Sarah« said I. “You UnoW that many people think he was not after this sort.” “ Yes,” said she, “ I know that top. But thee knows many who make a great fugsabput religion, have very little, while soum who say very little about it have a great deal. , ■ •, “That's.sometimes the case, I fear, Sarah, 8a “ Well, and that was the case,” said she, “ with Benjamin Franklin, bat, be that as it may, David, since thee asks me about this pic ture. I’ll tell thee how- it came here> weeks ago, as he lay, he beckoned mo to him, and, told mo of this, picture up stairs, and beg gcdl would bring it to him. His face brigh tened as he looked upon it; and he said- -‘ Ay, Sarah, there’s a picture worth looking at. — That is the picture of Him who came into the world to teach us to love one another. Ihen, looking wistfully at it for some lime, he added. • Sarah. Set this picture up over the mantel piece, right before me* for I hke to look o.t U. When I had fixed it . up, ho looked at it very much,, and, in the end, as thee; sees, he died with his eyes fixed upon it.’ ’ In treating upon this. topic,: bcorrespondent - of the. OKio'Farmer writes:—;! have about come to the conclusion that it is unwise.-and ’unprofitable to permit cattle to escape the con ifinement of the cattle-yard until about the mid- t die of April. If grass conies forward unusual- ■ ly early, they may be turned into pasture at an, ! earlier date. Ido not claim. that those who have large herds of cattle, and extensive grazing lands well established in grass, will always find it the most convenient, and the most economic course. Those, however, who follow a mixed, system of husbandry, raising horses, cattle and hogs, and who cultivate most of the grains and grasses, will find the following advantages from , the mode of springing which I suggest: ‘ 1. The early grass will become belter esta blished, and it wilt therefore yield more abun dantly, and betlcr sustain the stock during the grazing season. 2. The fields and. pasture lands will not be injured in productiveness, and in facility of cultivation, by being compactly trampled in the wet weather of early spring.— 3. Cattle retained on their regular dry food, in the cattle stables and in the yard, will do quite ns well as those permitted to roam over the farm, ■ and to obtain an occasional' and meagre bile, of immature grass. ’ They acquire a disrelish of dry forage, while they cannot obtaina sufficient amount of green. 4. Let this mode of spring management of slock be adopted, and farmers will more carefully husband their straw and other rough food, Wide-spreading straw piles which now disfigure fields, and which encum ber and frequently interfere with the cultivation of much good land, will no longer be found upon the premises of the prudent, economical and pains taking farmer. 5. The last, and most important advantage, resulting from this ■ mode of managing cattle, is this: the manure ; made and preserved willbe increased four-fold.’ One Use op a Man when Dead. —A very worthy fisherman by the name of Grizzle was drowned'some time since, and all search for his body proved unavailing. After it had been in the water some months, however, it was discov ered floating upon the surface, and taken to the shore, whereupon Mr. Smith was dispatched to convey the intelligence to the afflicted widow. Mr. Smith—Well, Mrs. Grizzle, we have found Mr. Grizzle’s body. Mrs. Grizzle—You don’t say! Mr. S.—Yes. we have—the jury has sought on it, and found it full of cels. •' Mrs.' G.—You don’t say Mr. Grizzle’s body is full of eois 1 - ' • Mr- B.—Yes. it is; and we want to know what you will have done with it ? Mrs. G.—Why. how many cels should you ihink there is in him 1 „ Mr. S.—A bushel, or over. Mrs. Q.—Well, then. I think you had better send the eels up to the house, and set him again! Indian Anecdote. Bbquaahcquash, an Indian of tho remains of a tribe in Connecticut, was some years, since brought before'a justice'of the peace on some charge dr other, which Ido not recollect. John happened to bo drunk at tho time, and instead of answering directly to the questions put hy the justice, merely muttered out: “Your honor i„ very—very wise—y.y-your honor is very wise, Isay.”' Being unable to got any other answer from him, the justice ordered him td be locked up till the next day, when John was brought be fore him perfectly sober. «Why, John,” said tho justice, you was ns drunk as a boast yesterday. When I asked you any questions, the only answer yon made was--; 1 Your honor’s very wise—very wise.” . »l)id I call your honor wise ?” said tho Indi an with a look of incredulity. ’ • •Yes,” answered the magistrate. ('Tilon,” replied John, “I must have been drunk, sure enough.” An old lady, whoso son was about to proceed to tho Black Sea, among her parting admonitions gave him strict injunctions not to bathe In that sea, for sho did not want him to i.como home a “ nigger.” ■.-*-r;''rr«v Y“- : AT S2,OOPER ANNUM. The Ansel’s WmsPEii.—A superstition of great beauty prevails in Ireland, that when a child smiles in its sleep, it is “ talking with an. gels.” The idea is thus poetized by Loveii, with whose numerous exquisite productions many of the Volunteer readers are familiar: A baby was sleeping. Its mother was weeping, . For her husband was far on the wild raging sea, . And the tempest was swelling, Round the fisherman’s dwelling, And she cried, “Dermot darling, oh! .come back to me.” Her beads while she numbered, , The baby still slumbered. And smiled in her facV.as she bended her knee, Oh ! blessed be that warning, My child, thy sleep adorning. For I know that the angels are whispering with thee. And while they are keeping. Bright watch o’er thy sleeping, Oh,.pray to them softly, my baby, with me, And say thou wouldst rather, They’d watch o'er, ray father. For I know that the angels are whispering with thee. The dawn of the morning ’ Saw Dermbt returning, And tho wife wept with joy her babe s father to see. And closely caressing Her child, with a blessing. Said, “ I knew that the angels were whispering • . with thee.” ■ _ A Determined Duelist. The duel in which a brother of the late Phil ip Barton Key was killed by Lieutenant Sher burne, twenty-three years ago, is described as follows by an ex-midshipman of the United States Navy : . , ** It was fought in the month of June, 1836, on a vacant lot of land lying between the Capi tol dt Washington, and the Navy Yard. The day was intensely warmand just as the tight was ended, there rose oneof the roost frightful thunder storms I ever witnessed. This rendered the bloody afiray the more remarkable. At about ,8 o’clock in the morning, I was called on by a friend of young Key. who informed-me thata duel was to be fought.;and he eagerly solicited mo to interfere, and, if possible, pro vent it. I replied that I would Interpose to the best of my ability, though I certainly, had no especial interest in cither party, mqmrcd of my informant if it were not possible that he had been-misinformed 1 He replied that there could be no mistake about it: for young Key had, the dav before, borrowed the dueling pistols of the Hon. Henry A. Wise, and that everything had been arranged. li°. nc ® , ca Wise, and asked him if he had loaned his pis tols to anyone! He replied \kat he had. That a young them for -the purpose of praoticWte, and that he had loan ed them; -but wits confident that nothing like a ',duel was o« -frtlA ‘ for.Jhft whig]*l am sure I would hot loan them to a youth lor any such purpose.’ Still, being urged by my friend, X instantly-repaired to the locality where it was Said the duel was to be fought. On pur am »al, wo found .young Key and his antagonist, Sherburne, on the ground. I believe that .a shot had already been exchanged: but of this I am not . certain. Key and Sherburne were both midshipmen in the United Stales Navy, and their cause of quarrel, as well as I can re member. originated while both were on the Cu ban station, and had its origin in the ward room. It had nothing to do with women.— 1 Sherburne was a native of New Hampshire, a young man of merit, exceedingly modcst. and opposed to dueling from conscientious consider ations. 'He endeavored to effect a reconcilia tion but Key was inexorable. Sherburne, I am very sure, fired once in the air, refusing to seek the life of his’antagonist. This produced no effect on Key: ho insisted that the fight should proceed. Sherburne then Said to his se cond, “If ,he will not accept any accommoda tion,! will certainly kill him.” At the next fire, Key fell mortally wounded, a ball having passed entirely through his lungs and chest, producing infusion of the heart. Sherburne, accompanied by his friend and surgeon, Ur. 11., with the consent of the friend of Key and as surgeon, approached the dying youth, asked his forgiveness, and tendered him his hand, lie was repulsed with the spirit of a demon, and indignantly bidden to be off. “AwayJaway. exclaimed Key. in the voice of death; “leave: me. I came not here to whine and whimper.— j I came hero to fight—to be avenged—to mam* j tain my wounded honor. The chances have i been with you. and I die-/c«iang to youmy last and eternal execration and defiance! In \vo minutes after he was a corpse. Tub Weather.—When you wish to know what the weather, is to be, go out and, select the smallest cloud you can see. keep your eye upon it, and if it decreases and disappears, it shows a slate of the air,that is sure to bo fol lowed bv fair weather ; but, if it increases in size, you may as well take your great coat with you if you arc going from home, for falling wea ther will not he. for oft. The reason is this : when the air is becoming charged with electri city, you will see every cloud attracting all less ones towards it, till it gathers into a show er : and oh the contrary, when the fluid is pas sing off or diffusing itself, even a largo cloud will bo soon breaking to pieces, and dissolving. To spoii. a Daughter.—l. Be always tell ing her how pretty she is. 2. Instil into her miud a proper love of fine dress. -3. Accustom her tp so much pleasure that she is not happy at homo. 4. Allow her to read nothing but novels. 5. Teach her all the accomplishments, but none of the utilities of life. 6. Keep her in the darkest ignorance of the mysteries of house keeping. 7. Intimate her into the principle that it is vulgar-to do anything for herself. 8, To strengthen the latter belief, le; her have a lady’s maid. 9. And lastly, having given her such an education, marry her to a moustached bachelor, who is a clerk on a salary of 5250 a year. * Backbiting.—Never say of , ; one who is ab sent, what yoij would be afraid or ashamed to say if he were present. ‘‘Ho of whom you do light to speak evil,” says a wise moralist, “ may hear of it, and become your enemy; or if ho do not, you will have to reproach yourself' with the meanness ot attacking one who. had no op portunity of defending himself, Never listen to those who deal in scandal; he who slanders one to you, will slander you to another. Tale bearers make tale-bearers: and hence Dr. South said “ the tale-bearer and tale-hearer should bo hanged together, the. one by the ear, and the other by the tongue.” ■ The Mobmons.-Tlic Utah correspondent o( the Chicago. (Illinois) Tribune, has noted down the socialstatus of that Territory. The result is ns follows: 387 men, with i or more wives . of these, 13 have more than 19 wives ; 730 men with 6 wives, 1100 men with 4 wives, and 1400 With inert than one wife. • X&i&iss 6* v .v. : D&irtfel. DOUGHERTY, Esq.V At Tin: CoituEHOEHKNT OTr THB ’Eaicxamau Ilian School, ox ins IQib of Fbbbwet. 1 am entirely aware that the a'plendid audir crioo which fills every seat In this spacious,pat has assembled exclusively to witness'the core, monies which will commence when I have ces. sed. Arid, indeed, the sight’to bo presented to our gaze is deserving oven of Such a presence, for it ca’nnot fail to fill oiir hearts with pleasant emotions, and engage oiir 'minds with profitable thought. ‘We will behold a band of youth, who having stood tho test of > thorough examine, lion, present themselves with becoming confi dence to receive tho highest honors this insti tulion can confer. [Applause.] And,' having received them, will, take a respectful leave of their hinorod professors- a, heart throbbing farewell of each other—give a parting thought to tho dear scones of the past-then, throwing off the gowns of scholarship, separate, each to start on the greatjouiney of manhood. Consulting your wishes arid sharing J n ‘hem, I will not mar your anticipated plonTOrobynny studied and tedious dissertations on thepresent stale of our public schools, but doem l wll be&t discharge tho highly honorable duly to wMoh l have been invited by tho Board of Control, by a few words of mutual congratulation and Joy. ous exultation on the triumphant injeess of pur system of education, and of the Philadelphia, High School, the crowning gldry of it all.— rGroat applause.], i »e’ The lawgiver, Lycurgus, declared tliatjgp great object of government was the oducaHgtt of children. Thus, the youth of Sparta■MW ITom their birth, trained to the service of their country. In their early boyhood they wore taught to hurl tho jaVelin, to pitch the quoit, to leap, to wrestle, and to race j to be brief of; speech—to despise luxury—to bo ready for tho foe—to endure privations with apparent plea sure—to sutler pain without a murmur, and die without a groan. [Applause.] All, all that Lacudiomon might hold her own amid the States of Greece. They fulfilled their destiny. The: fame of their country attest bow gloriously they lived—at the pass of Thermopylio how bravely kO. 45. ’ thcy,died. [Applause*] . c;i - ; • If, then, the rudest of Republics—to say - 1;, nothing of the more polished States pf the past if tho modern monarchies of; .Europe recog nise the importance ot Edricilion tie tho masses, how vital is it here, whore alone man inherits; the rights of his exalted natnW). whore govern-, ment, social order, the public weal, the bless ings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity depend, under heaven, on the education of pur. children [applause]; not only in the physical training which will prepare tho tody lor the storms of war, but tho elightened culture which will fit thorn to fulfill tholr duties to society and discharge tho sacred trusts ol American citizen ship. [Applause.] ... r ■ Prompted by such incentives, ahd following tho advice of Our peace-loving founder, the people of Pennsylvania inaugurated a system of education, Which, leaving religious tuition to the respective parents and pastors, which, ban ishing everything that tends to dlsscntion, teaches the children to love each Other, and brings them towards maturity—the males ready for tho struggles oi the outer world, while our fair daughters; cast their serene influence m every circle, making homo happy with a tbour sand joys—the noble mates and mothers ot American men. [Long continued applause.] That the schools may thrive, worthy citizens devote,"without reward, unnumbered hours to ' 'their management—tho State provides a super- Intending: officer, and tho people contribute millions'every returning year. Andnowoacn morn, us the sun rises arid gilds tho carth^tn. its glory, there goes forth from the homelKpl Pennsylvania, on mountain, in vale and fowl, in city, town and hamlet, fronr marble palacj , and lowly cot, an army of youth, six hundred thousand strong, who. march, with light stop and buoyant heart fo the schools, there to.receive weapons, not for bloody war, but to. conquer ignorance, to, destroy prejudice, to preserve peace, and plant on still loftier heights tho ban, ner of our State’s prosperity. [Applause and cheers. ' ' Long after our system was in lull tide of sue. cessful operation, tho aspiring boy who had mas terod all tho studies oltho school—vyhosecen franee into the groat colleges and universities was-barredbjr difficulties,' had to forogo.thq r yearnings of hi* aoul, or toil bn even fn despite of fortune’s-frown. ■ .To aid him’thfs iristltutlou opened its wide portals—bid him, enter—wel coming him to drink deep pf the waters pf knowledge, and. pluck tbe Hesperian, fruit ot science, where no serpent guards from mortal touch, but which all around in ripo prolusion bands, enriching him who takes. [Great ap plause.] , .. .. Aye, in this High School, founded by. tho people and fostered by the State, neither exalt ed station nor commanding wealth can gain ad mission for one pupil—all who enter its walls as scholars have earned the right by individual merit and intellectual toil. [Applause.] Hero this son of tho laborer and of, the millionaire, . tho Christian and the Hebrew, are seated side by side, ond the prize of pre-eminence’is within i the grasp ol all. There have already gone forth I from Us walls those who have grown up manhood I and made their mark wherever known. [Great . applause.] , ■ . , _ Hundreds are in the workshops of industry-, their practical knowledge graced and beautified by education; happy in their toil, they stand forth the noblest typo of American freemen, Many are in tho marts of merchandise, accumu- ; laling wealth from every clime, and aiding m. all the giant enterprises of the day.. In the paths of science they are probing deep the mys teries of nature, .and catching at thoughts to benefit mankind. As physicians, they are te. ; ccivirig the smiles of joy "as health begins again to bloom on tho chock of tho patient. In tho, forum, they are touhd matching tho mightiest id tho swift race, for famo and fortune. In.tho army .and tho navy, they have pledged thoir honor to preserve tho integrity of our beloved Union, and defend its flag against the legions fit , tho world. [Applause.] Some. returned m triuniph homo irom Mexico; while others—re vered bo thoir memories I —fell in their country ’s ' , cause, and repose in death Upon the field pf , battle." [Applause.] Some with tho pen. are the watohftil guardians of the people s rights, the pioneers of public .opinion. Some are aur voylng our ocean shores, and pointing tnp wavo toSsed mariner where the big Ship may npat Woly to land. ' And others have dedicated their , aaVS'fdToaohing how fo steer safely through tho Worms oi this life, and arrive at last in )W» ha ven of immortality. aro worthy.men, and no graduate has ypt dishonor ed the High .School witli iho commission of a crime. [Groat applause.] ■ j. ' Tims have wo prospered in tho past, pi let us guard, with never-ceasing care, these gratia- - Ties of tho mind. Lot us -flelond them from every attack of the fanatjo, whpthpi' secret and ; insidious, or ojlotj defiant. Let every defect be ■ plainly pointed out, am} remedied at qnco. Let, iis (father judicious reforms from ovety State, and mould thorn in our, system.. Lot tho Legis lature, by proper statutes, elevate still higher the. standard ol general education. [Applause.] Let high schools, ajid seminaries 'flourish in 1 every cornet of bur Commonwealth. Then, how radiant will be onr future I when every one who hero inhabits shall enjoy the blessings of liberal education. [Applause.] Then will vlr. trio shine in public as in private Hie, and high filacos be won by merit, riot crlnging pycophan cy. Then will laws bo passed lor tho general welfare, not associated gain. Then will social order reign in onr cities, and the very air be harmonious with the music of prosperity! [Ap plauao.] . i. ... • Adhering to constitutional liberty, and P ro ; Tiding for universal education, our beloved Pennsylvania shall stand proudly conspicuous amid her sister States—mightier than Romo when , the, nephew of groat Julius rc| B ne “ , grander than Greece when Pericles paid court to the people of Athens. . ■. ■ ,v. i Mr.-D., on taking bis scat, waa gicoted with round after round of applause. Gov. Medabv at Lecompiok.—“ His Excel-, lencv" went into a barber shop at Lecompton to get shaved. The barber is a black man. and belongs to Judge Klmprp. •• As soon as seated, the following dialouge oc curred : • ' • ■ . . Gov. M—“ I’ll shave by the mouth.” Barber —“ Don’t know. Massa, about that. Gov.—“ Why not. Tom 1” . .. Barber—” Case, Massa, Gnburnura stay 6 mighty short Urns in Kansas."