American volunteer. (Carlisle [Pa.]) 1814-1909, April 21, 1859, Image 1

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PDBHSnED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BY
Jotan B. Bratton.'',
TERMS.
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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."