IRICANVOLUNTEER, PUBLISHED EVERY. THURSDAY SIORNIRb BY Jolt ll B. Bratton. TERMS'. DsqmPTiON. —Ono DollaV and Fifty Cents, in advance j Two Dollars if paid within the and Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not , within the year. These terms will bo rig adhered to dn every instance. No sub pllon discontinued/ until all arrearages are unless at the option of the Editor. oveutisemknts —Accompanied by the cash, not exceeding one square, will bo inserted io times for One Dollar, and twenty-five cents each additional insertion. Those of agroat length in proportion. m-PitiuTiNG—Such as Hand-Bills, Posting 1, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &0., &c.,exe id with accuracy and at the shortest notice. ffortital. THE GIFT OP MVB. “Give rao,” I said, “that ring Which on thy taper finger gleams; Sweet thought to me ’twill bring. When summer' sunset’s beams Have faded o’er the western sea, And left mo dreaming, love, of thee I” « Oh, no!” the maiden cried; 1 “ This shining ring is bright, but caM; That bond is loosely tied, _ Which must bo clasped with gold! The ring would soon forgotten bo; Some better gift I’ll give to thee !” « Then give mo that red rose,” Said I, ■< which on thy bosom heaves. In edstiieiod repose, And droops its blushing leaves ; If thou wouldst have mo think of theo, Fair maiden, give that rose to, mio!” “ Qh, no I” sho softly said, “ t will not give thee any flower; This rose will.surely fade— : , It passes with the. hour;. A faded rose can never be An tfmbleni of my love for thee!” “ Then give me but thy. word— A vow of love—’(were bettor yet,” “ I criedwho puce lias heard • Such vows, can ne’er forget! If thou .wilt give this pledge to mo. Nor ring nor rose I’ll ask of tbee 1” «01i, no!” she said again ; 0 For spoken vows are empty breath, Whoso memory is vain When passion pursuetb j lf o’er X lose my love for theeT My vows must soon all forgotten bo!” Wf^ 1 -A* Then what,” I asked,wilt thou l » &■ ,yi£ ! v.O dearest I to thy lover give? j j'vK’or ring, -not rose, nior vow 1.. May I from thee receive : ! i"-JL nd yet some symbol should there bo To typify thy love for me f. •£’\‘ '' ' ' ! 'Then dropped her silvery voice Unto a whisper soft .and low; ff •<<Here .take this gift—my choice— M' 1 ’ , The sweetest love can know!” Then raised her head all lovingly, }.<' '■ And smiling, gave—a kiss to mo! which have passed away. Ye are ours hn more; were washed by the waves of time ESO&, Prom life’s bright shore.' fir-ijft.Te were tossed on the restless spray -To the distant past; . t.Js'^7 ; Bye gone years, a message we aend, / s Tis with fears o’crcast. . ' ■. X’ray keep in your shadowy homes T(io r smiles of old, t.'v O..’,'iAnd the hopes which were ever to us R|bv^..More precious than gold. ■Bjn:,- ■ The dowers which once wo prized. Sot them hot astray— HKjilViAgiiin;on our onward path,. . , them always. .. , „ ■. fxy- *i! s ,X,et them resOMhetr'fSf'oYTgraves; ''' Let those graves bo deep, . ‘ 'iSo that o’er them memory’s Watch si >i' i?.’ May no virgils- keep, / .' y .Lot no InourheVs sighs he heard, tears ho'sned';-'' . ~ s. ‘ 0! let us. forget our lost, t s l*V.., p ur loved—our-dead. THE PAST AND THE. FUTURE. S ' In the future wo then may Bnd | ' Blossoms bright and rare; ® 1 Our faith will ho Ann and strong, im- ' And onr pathway fair. ’M r -But, alas Iye give little heed . 9|K*;•• To onr wild request; Mi ’ Ye refuse, and we still must bear al' Our heart’s unrest. Mmlkimm. w . From the. Ne- Fork Sun, of May 27. STARTLING INCIDENT. k ‘ A Man Living Four Months in tub Sewers of York Underground Lifu and Oc- OBRBENCES. , . 7 ' Ifewill bo recollected that during tho early faurt.df tho past winter, tho tides at our wharves wtaro extremely heavy, and at one time all along tiwjijast river side lor the space of a mile or u*Qf,pVtho rats were compelled to leave the piers - ■ in shoals of thousands, making lor the time rare ' ’ activity among rat terriers and wharf loafers in - tllEfr destruction. A communication, just re . 'delved from a Western source (the Postmaster ' hf Chicago,) enclosing a letter Ironi a German, now;in,-that city, writing homeward, seems to make it authentic that one of the queerest in cidents of New York life which has over-been f recorded, at about that time took place in this city. 1 ♦ Leopold ilfeyor, a German citizen, then resi ding at 117 Avenue A, had come to this city to seek hid fortune among his countrymen. He S. was a kind ot king “ Chigcnier,” or rag-picker,” Xfrom where ho had acquired a small com potency in tliat lino, wliieh however, had been dissipated by tho speculations which tho lower ■' > cUss'Ol thh French have lately resorted to— ykfclttie Bourse. The transactions of that on* i’i'ii'-'.ormods machine had literally wiped out our Leopold, and ho had reluctantly quitted the-Frenalicapital to try his luck in “our land ofsjd'gold,-'’ as lie termed it in his Franoo-Gor- Vmanpatoius. ' Among all his experience, Leopold hod, at $V n h '■s s 1 one time, been a workman in (lie sowers of Pd ' 1 Tls'—tbat underground world;of Paris rng-piok i ers— and became familiar with its life and scenes. (tnow about its porquisitios and profits too, 1 ‘and somewhat of its risks. Arrived in this ■ areal; city, nothing doubting of its equally ex i,i tensive-subterranean avenues with those of Pa. xis he became extremely anxious to got into r. .and about among the sewors of Now Pork— Ei He ddsired to keep his adventure a secret also, P? ' In order to have the profits of the undertaking P --do himself alone. The difficulty of his enter pi' prise may bo somewhat considered when we re fleet that the -main sowers ot Paris are broadly ii ■ "constructed tunnels, some ton feet wide and > nine feet high. They convey as much water 1 through them as does onr Croton Aqueduct, and resemble it in solidity of construction.— il’hoy carry not water alone, but ventilation and ■ .air to many of the underground vaults and purlieus Of the Parisian city, which are unsoon and unknown to its earliest residents. 1 . For more than throe months Leopold prowled around the peers in the upper part of the city . r on the East River side, with the hopes o( seeing a sewer opening out into the river. Hohnd not suflloiont experience in city life and Cotton. ; B6ard' arrangements to know that entrance cbulddjehad through the street “man holes,” (apertures loft tor tiro purpose along the centre (Of .the streets, nnd covered over with iron cov o ,era, opening with ajkoy.) Such modes of hr. ■grass ln this country were under the control of ; ,J4hoSlu n ioipal Police and tho entry by thorn was H’llwfond the power of tlio poor rag-pickor. Meyer got into a sower which omp. mESKon Houston street, and tho big tides wliicli kept liim so close a prisoner, and by ho came so near losing his life, that, got out > 1,0 at OUOO started West, not only to BY JOHN B. BRATTON. VOL. 46. dispose of his gains by the enterprises in putting a little money into a western farm, but to see some relatives near Kasknskfa, in Illinois, and then to return to Paris, rag-picking, with a snug little sum ahead. The first experience of Meyer In New York Sewer Life was to get nearly scalded to death by an exhaust of steam from the factory of Hoo Sc Co., corner of Brbomo and Sheriff street. He stopped about that lo cality, as near as could be judged, because of some debris of stove pipe which bad become lodged in the sewer, and hero the steam was* suddenly «let off,” and poor Meyer almost as suddenly “let off.” He continued, however, to retreat along the extensive bottom of the sower, to escape the boiling fury of the vapot floods which rushed along. It must not bo supposed that Meyer came into the sewers unprovided with light, or (ho usual methods of working these street mines to ad vantage. He had both and all. His trowsers and under-clothing were of India rubber; India rubber shoes on his feet; a wire sack at his shoulder; ah iron rag-picker in his hand, and a small scoop in his side pocket, with a usual mining lamp, contrived to protect the user from the impurity of the atmosphere—these compo sed his outfit. His design was to make a straight wake for the Filth avenue. There, he reason ed, would bo the cream of buntingjgrbunds for I|is trade; and probably his reasons Were good, for he argued that in no part of tiro city do so many silver bpoons, forks and trinkets disap pear, through the carelessness of servants and (ho impurities of soap and waste'water, as in this, (lie palatial part of our city. But several difficulties beset (he sower adven- hirer before he could gain the promised land. He knew the direction of the streets, but not the course of the sewers. He advanced west, ward to Broadway, only'to find th£t its main sewers there turned off to the east. lie went along its easterly branch and there found a crook to the north. lie advanced northward and there, i,ts walls went south. In short, ho be came bewildered, and for the first time in his life doubted his capacity to navigate, under ground wherever ho chose to penetrate. This was the filth day of his entrance to the sewers. His little stock of provisions was giving out.-- The street corner air-holes of this part .of the city were not as frequent as he had before met, and the sewers were less purified because more distant from tlio rivers. In the clefts of ma sonry adjoining the street culverts, he had pre- passed a number, of nights with indif ferent sleep, which had awakened -Jilin some what, and now Meyer felt rather like. backing out from his disagreeable task. However, push ahead he must- He was yet in Bioadwny; that ho knew, and opposite the Metropolitan Hotel, where the savory steams from the Moskva. Le huuHa kitchens poured forth, to him, delightful odors. He pushed down Broadway, had a violent dis pute with a poor mangy dog; which had got be nighted down below and would not lot him pass, which dispute ho ended rather summarily with his iron picker, and tlien-shovbd along. At the junction with Canal street, he encountered quite a monster terrapin, crawling upward along Broadway. It had escaped from some restau rant before dinner, got into the street gutter, from thence into the culvert of the sewer, and most likely poor turtle never intended to go back (or his own dinner at all. This was quite a God send for poor Mcy<y. In the streets of Pails he had never fancied, that in those of Kew York eatable turtles; could be found, w&lldqg’ arbitiid in the sewers’, sower'openings are better, protected (herOi However#.ho out , vvlHr hia tcnifo,-and-speedily found an inleHnto his hard shell .Wevv. York', politician. ‘ t/dmd matches in liia pocket, copies of. Police Gazette and Herald, furnished a fire, and poor Meyer soon had some underdone turtle steaks to ap pease his hunger, . . Ho.now altered somewhat, believl lug. that among the restaurant openings of the Fulton street eating houses ho might obtain further provender, and then return relreshed to his up-towrt explorations. So he traveled along Broadway; knew Taylor’s by its rich odors: stopped to smell (lie candy whiffs'from Thomp son’s saloon; received ten minutes’ imnginary nourishment from Gosling’s restaurant, and, finally reached Fullon street. Hero be ran foul of, (he Sun office vault, with -its tremendous presses, running at great speed, under the street, and making so tremendous a noise that he took it for thunder. And he was not mistaken about the Fulton Street eating houses, lie got, through a crevice of the masonry, quite a libe ral amount'bf provisions, and then wended his way up town. Ho finally, by branching west ward from Broadway, lound;hisway to the Fifth avenue, and there he fairly picked up a small fortune, in about a month’s time. Breastpins, bracelets, rings, watches, souvenirs, knives and forks, children’s corals, whistles and calls, beads, Hits., lay grouped together in the slug gish streams on the level streets. The poor man’s eyes fairly danced with excitement —such wealth had now dawned upon’his imagination. His wire sack was filled ; his pockets wore filled; his hat was filled. lie look off his boots and strung them across his back, and those wore filled. Ho hud bagged countless treasures, and yet countless treasures remained unbagged.— However, ho must now get out of the sowers, with his treasures, unsuspected, and then ho was all right. Ho speedily retraced his way to Houston Street, and passed along Grand to the East River. Hero the high tides set the water back* to such a great extent, that on three different occasions ho narrowly escaped suffocation.— And this was the up hillvfart of his c:)roc|- —how to got out. Ho waited' one week—two—three —and four. Provisions wore scarce; the venti lation poor; no more turtles around; only a few scabby fish ventured in, and so Meyer liked to have got starved with all his wealth 1 After a while, however, a low tide came, and ho got out. After emerging, Meyer soon found that he had no good legal title to his street treasures ; that they wore the property of (ho owners, and subject to bo grasped by the police. A kind friend, to whom ho. had rendered many lavors, and thereby converted him to just the man for tho purpose, gave the requisite hint to tho Mo- Iropolitans—that of dividing tho plunder—and Moyer found it would bo hotter to leave tiro city, Tho next' afternoon after coming out from his subterranean life,. Leopold took tiro North River steamboat for Albany, bound west ward, and among nil the seedy German cents which had stood a hard sea voyage through all tho incidents of a trip from Fatherland, and a seedy countenance as well, (hat of Meyer was tho most conspicuous. And yet tho glow of $lO,OOO, or thereabouts, made in a few months lime, gavo him inward satisfaction, which made his poor suit and poor appearance more wel come to him than tho dross of many a brighter day previous. DLy" A waggish' husband recently cured his wife of divers ills in this wise: He kissed the servant girl one morning-and got caught at it, Mrs. J. was up in an inslant. She forgot ail her complaints, and the-man of tile house declares that be lias never had to pay a cent for help since. O” Recreation, says Bishop Hall, is intend ed for tlie mind as whetting is for the scythe, to sharpen tho edge of it, which otherwise would grow dull. A Bad Bot.—Daddy, I want to ask you a question ?” • “Why, my son ?’’ “Why is neighbor Lynch’s liquor store like a counterfeit bill ?” “I can’t tell, son.” “Because vou can’t pass it!" A Thrilling Adventure, “Father will have done the great chimney to-night, won’t be, mother, said little Tommy Howard, ns he stood waiting for his father’s breakfast which he cairiedto him at his work every morning. “He said that he hoped that all the scaffold ing would be down to-night,” said the-mother, “and that’ll be a fine sight; for I never like the ending of those great chimneys; it is so risky for father to be the last-up.” . “Oh, then, but I'll go. and seek him; nnd help'm to give a shout afore he comes down,” said Tom. _ _ “And then,” continued,.the mother, “if all goes right, we arc (o have a frolic, to-morrow, and go into the country, nnd take our'dmner, and spend all the day long in the woods.” “Hurrah,” cried Tom, as he ran off to hia father’s place'of work, with a can of milk in one hand and Some bread'" in the other. His mother stood at the door, watching him, ns be went merrily whistling down the street, and she thought of the dear-father he was going to, and the dangerous work he was engaged in; and then her heart sought its sure refuge ; and she prayed to Qod to protect and bless her trea sures.. Tom with a light heart pursued his way to I his father, and leaving him his breakfast went I to his own work, which was at some distance. In the evening, on his way home,, he went around to see how his father was getting on. ! James Howard, the father, and a number of other workmen, had been building one of those lolty chimneys which, in our manufacturing towns, almost supply the place of other archi tectural beauty. The chimney' was of the highest and most tapering that had ever been 'erected, and as Tom shaded his eyes from the slanting rays ofthe setting sun, and looked up in search of his father, his heart sank within him atThe appalling sight. : The scaffold was almost down, the men at the bottom were re moving the beams and ptjles. Tom’s father stood alone at the top. . ' _ He then looked around to see that everything was right, and then, waving his hat iu lho; air,, the-mcn below answered him with a long,'loud cheer; little Tom shouting as loud as any of them. As their voices died away, however, they 1 , heard a diderent sound, a cry of horror .and alarm from above. The men looked around and coiled upon the ground liiy the rope, which' before the scaffolding was removed should’ have been fastened to the chimney,dor Tom’s falher to come down by. . The .scaffolding had; been taken down without remembering to take,the rope up. There was a dead silence. ThTy'ill knew it was impossible, tg„.,lhrow the- fdpenip high enough to reach.the ,top of the phinySey; or even if hardly, They stood in silenfc.diginay, unrthlp TojpycSpy help, or Thick of pf aaieiy. •d - And Tom’s walkeil;, round and* round the little circidlthe dizzy height, seemed more and more fearful, and thc solid earth fur-, ther and further from him. He shut his eyes; he felt us if the next moment he must be dashed To pieces on the ground.below. The day passed as industriously as usual with Tom’s mother. She was always busily employed for her husband and children in some way-or other, and to-day sho had been birder at work than, usual, getting reidy for tile hoi'i day to-morrow. She had just finished her ar rangements; and her- thoughts • were silently thanking God for the happy home, and for all those blessings, when Tom ran in. Ills face was as white as ashes, and he could hardly get.his words out. ‘•Why, lad—thy father?” asked the moth er... ■ - ‘They have forgotten to leave him the rope,’ answered Tom',, still scarcely able to speak. The mother started up horror-struck, and stood for. a moment as if paralysed, and then pressing her hands over her face, as if. to shut out-the terrible picture, and breathing a prayer to God for help, she rushed out of the bouse. When she reached the place where her hus band was at work, a crowd gathered around the foot of the chimney, and stood quite help less. gazing hp with faces full of sorrow.. “He says he'll throw, himself down.” “Thee nunna do that, lad,” cried the wife, with a clear, hopeful voice: “thee munna do that—wait a bit. Take off thy stocking, lad, and unrayel it, and let down the thread with a piece of mortar. Dost thou hear me, Jem?” The man made a sign of assent; for it seem ed, he could not speak—and taking off his stocking, unravelled the worsted yarn, row af ter row. ' The people stood around in breath less silence and suspense, wondering what Tom’s mother could be thinking of, and why she sent him in such haste for the carpenter's ball of twine, “Let down one end of the thread with a bit of stone and keep fast hold of the other,” she cried to her husband. . ' . The thread came waving down the tall chim ney, blown hither and thither by the wind, but )t reached the outstretched hands that were waiting for it. Tom held the ball of twine, while his mother tied one end of it to the thread. “Now pull it slowly," cried she to her hus band, and she gradually unwound the siring until it reached her husband. Now, hold the siring fast, and pull it up,” cried she, and the string grew heavy and hard to pull, for Tom and his mother had fastened a thick rope to it. They watched it slowly and gradually uncoil ing front the ground, and the siring was drawn higher. There was but one coil left. It had reached the top. Thank God! exclaimed the wife. Site hid her face in her hands in silent prayer, nnd tremblingly rejoiced. The iron to which it should bo fastened was there all rigid—but, would her husband be able to make use of it ? Would not the,terror of the past hour have so unnerved him as to prevent him from taking ihe necessary measures for safety ? She did not know tho magical influence which her tew words had exercised oiler him. She did not know the strength that the sound of her voice, so calm and steadfast, had filled him—as if the little thread that carried to him tho hope of life opce more, had conveyed to him some portion of that faith in God, which nothing ever de stroyed or shook in her pure heart. She did not know that as sho waited there, the words came over him, “Why art thou cast down, 0, my soul, why art thou disquieted within me? hope thou in God.” She lifted her heart to God for hope nnd strength, but could do noih ing more lor her husband, and heart turned to God, and rested on him as on a rock. There was a great shout, “He's safe, moth er. he’s safe!” cried Tom. “Thou hast saved my life, my Mary,” said her husband, folding her in his arms. “But what ails you ? thou seemest more sor ry than glad about it.” But Mary could not speak, and if the strong arm of her husband had not held her up she would have fallen to the ground—tho sadden joy after such fear had overcome her. ‘Tom. let thy mother lean on thy shoulder,’ said his father, “and we will take her home.” And in their happy home they poured forth thanks to God for lifS great goodness, and their happy life together felt dearer and holier for the peril it had been in, and the nearness of the danger had brought them unto God. And the “ orin oduNTirr—may it always be bight tilt wrong, Oub couftritV.” Carlisle, pa. } Thursday, june i«> m holiday next day—was it n'dt ,d thanksgiving day?, ; Tbo habits of our‘fish have been .but very Mule attended to in this country. Our scien tific men, it is true, havo been.' very precise in their accurate classification, and in the use of their, ponderous nomenclalurc-Hhcy have de scribed our fishes even to the shape of. a scale, or the number of thorns in the’dorsal ftn, but they have not condescended to pote their habits, their food, their length' of, file,-with all such particulars as would interest common readers, and be of use to mankind. ■ . / No fish is more valued or more valuable than the shad; yet but.few of its habits of life are known. The books are silent, and angling gives no information. It was; for a long time, a commonly received opinion! that the shad spent the winter in some part of the Gulf of Mexico, and then as spring advanced, and the snow ceased running, canid along the coast and entered the rivers in succession. If this were tnie, there would be no uniformity, year after year, in'the run of’shad in eaph river. The very distinct varieties would all become inter mingled. But each river has Its own variety. Those of Connecticut river have long been known as possessing superior size find flavor to any others. The variety that seeks the Hud son as a spawning ground is ,casily;distinguish cd from ours. The fact of the distinctness of the varieties in each river tends, to the belief that shad go no farther than the mouth of the streams in which they are hatched. The habits of the Shad are unlike those of other fish. As soon as the snow-water has ceased running* they press up the river as far ns they can reach, in order to deposit, their spawn. In following this instinct they never stop Tor refreshment or food. Who ever found anything in the maw or stomach of a shad that would indicate the nature .of its food ? Who ever knew them to bite at a baited do riot feed from the time they enter the'streatn. until they sink down thin and exhausted into the deep places at the mouth, For this pur pose of nature tlio shad has been preparing iis self during the quiet luxuries of a. winter, and has become fattened for the use of tnan. or if it escapes his net, for the reproduction of its spe cies. • . •.. The shad lives bu t a single year. It is hatch ed in the, early summer—descends the stream as soon as it is large, enough—feeds.,and' fat tens inlhe Winter at the mouth of the Streams ascends in the spririgdo deposit its spawn—de scends to die at the bottom of the .ocean. This fact accounts for the uniformity iri- the size of the fish. A Connecticut river shad,seldom: goes beyond seven .pounds, and the, variation in size is comparatively slight* Tlie bass, on the other hand, which is known to live ninny years, •varies from half a pound in weight,to fifty,' evCn in our own river. It, has a lodger time to grow, and shows a much greater diversity of size. These considerations have Iftfely led to .the conclusion that one ;year gorily sas.The du ration of a shad’s life. ; What was inly. a mat 'ler, of conjecture and inference has jbeori lately • Iproyed by'nwftcjalrflsh in the State of New, York? brio of , these raisers of ffsh'froiri spawn,bos raised large numbers of shad, which he fed in ehrly life with Crumbled crackers, strewn updn-' thc- pond whero they , were kept,' and his provod-lheir -short hold on existence. .. He raised them' for the purpose of supplying the very large fish he had in his tanks and ponds with food. As this*science of breeding fish is known iriorb, the habits of the different species will be more easily described. The above is from the Hartford, Conn., C'ou rant, and may be taken as ’authority—for if the people on Connecticut river don’t know all about shad, who docs ? . An American at Jcddo, who had established a school ol a dozen Japanese young men, writes to the N. Y. Journal of Commerce an account of their progress. They appear to be apt scho lars. They found English Grammar rather difficult and barbarous, but oilier things they learned with rapidity ; “The next study was arithmetic, which was no study at all; for they seemed to understand it.by tuition. Like the Chinese, the Japanese used a calculating machine, with which they solved questions with astonishing rapidity atid accuracy,, leading me to suspect that they would be prejudiced against the Arabic figures and system of computation, or if they were wil ling to adopt them, that they would work with them awkwardly and vexatiously, To my sur prise and delight, they needed but little in struction, when they -walked through’ arith metic like old experts! They had never seen slate or pencil; and when they were given to each of them, and they saw the 'economy, as well as the convenience, above the calculating machine, and hair pencils, ink and paper,.they were ns happy as I hough they had received a fortune. , The Japanese have little of the poeti cal temperament; but they arc well endowed with the bump of good common sense and prac- . tical judgment, and cannot fail, to excel in mathematics and the mechanic arts. “Geography next came up, which was the more interesting to them from having in my : possession a good supply of the best maps, which were spread out before them os the stu-, dy was pursued. The Dutch had given them themost extravagant ideas of Holland, while the great United States had hardly been heard of, or if heard of, only under the name of Ame rica. I spread out my large map of the United States. I compared it with England, with France and-with Holland; I poinled out Cali fornia, and Oregon, and Washington Territory, so near to Japan, and directing .their eyes to New York and Bosion, told them of the popu lation, and commerce, and wealth of those and other cities, then exultingly paying, “That is the United States! That is my country!’’ New and grand ideas of the greatness of the extent of our country instantly seized them, and pointing ip Holland, which the crafty Dutchmen halTlaught. them to regard as the greatest nation in Europe, they laughed out right at its insignificance, and in scorn of the deception which had been practised upon them. They next compared Japan with the United States; nor can I ever forget the feeling of mortification and despondency, painted so legi bly upon their faces, when they saw the dis proportion, It was a noble feeling—one of pa triotism and human nature, and I could not but respect it and be touched by it. 1 IC7- It is a good sign and true when you see amid a little group of boys, one dart from ■ the rest, and tossing his arms above his head, shout, “There's my father! 'asho runs to meet him. You may be sure, no matter what bust* ness troubles soever that man may have, that there is a spot iu his heart still fresh and green, which' the cares of the world have no power to blight. ‘‘There’s my father!” With what a pretty pride the little fellow shouts this I He must bo, indeed, a brute, whose fatherly heart does not swell with love, whoso eyes do not glisten, who does not, at such a moment, feel amply repaid for that day’s toil, no matter now After all, Love is the only thing worth having. [From Life llhish'atei}. HABITS OF TDBSIIAD. Japanese at School, Modes ol Death. . A recent Quarterly Review contained the fol lowing article, which will be read with interest: To be shot dead is one of the easiest modes of terminating life t rapid us it is, the body has leisure to feel and reflect. On the first attempt by one of the frantic adherents of Spain to as sassinate William. Prince of Orange, who took the lead in the revolt of the Netherlands, the ball passed through the bones in the face, and. brought him to the ground. In the instant that preceded stuperfaction, he was able to form the notion that the ceiling of the room had fallen and crushed him. The cannon shot which’ plunged into the brain of Charles VII. did not prevent him from seising his sword by the hilt.- Tho'idea of an attack, and the necessity for de fence, was pressed on him by a blow which we would suppose too tremendous to leave an in-, terval for thought. But it by no means follows that the inflicting of fatal wounds is uccompa-; nied : by a pang. Prom what is known of the first cllecls of gunshot wounds, it is probable\ the itnpression is rather, stunning than, acute.' Unless death be immediate, the pain is'varied; by the nature of injuries, nnd these are past counting up. ; ' But there is nothing singular in the dying sensation, though Lord Byron remarked the physiological peculiarity that the expression is invariably that of languor, while in death from a stab, the countenance reflects .the natural character, of gentleness or ferocity, to the last grasp. Sorivo of these cases are of interest, to show with what slight disturbance life rimy go on tin 'dtp - a mortal wound, till it finally comes .to a full slop. A foot soldier at Waterloo, pierced by a musket bail in the hip, begged water of a soldier, who chanced to possess a canteen of beer. The woupded man drank, returned liis heartiest thanks, mentioned that his regiment was nearly exterminated, and having proceeded a dozen^ards on his way to the rear, fell to the earth, and, with one convulsive movement of the limbs, concluded his career. “His voice," said tlie trooper, who himself lolls.the story “ gave scarcely the slightest sign of weakness.” ■ Capt. Basil Ilall, who, in his early youth, was present at the battle of Corunna, has sin gled. cut, from the seclusion that consigns to . oblivion tlio woes and gallantry of war, another instance, extremcly.sirailar, which .occurred on that ‘occasion. An old officer who was,shot in the bead, arrived pale and faint at the tempo rary hospital, and begged the sugreon to took at* iiis wound, which was pronounced mortal. I feared so," he responded, with impeded utterance. “ and yet, I should wish very mu6h to live a little longer, if it were pos sible.” Ho laid the sword upon the stone at his side, as gentle, says Hall, as if the steel bad been turned into glass, and imrhcdiatcly sank senseless upon the turf. . “Is tlmtalso Tlfine.3” JS>,A beautiful reply is recorded of a Dekcarlian pCasant.-whoso master Was displaying to him tjjo grandeur..of his estates. Farms, bouses, and forests were pointed out in succession on every hand, as the properly of the rich propri etor, who summed up finally by saying; “In ahorf^l'th6ky^'sx%'i\rirfwMtipi^ltipgs. -I Tho'poor’tnan looked tlwiiglnfdlly' foijo 1 moment, tbett, pointing up to heaven; so lemnly replied; "And is that also thine ?” , -.Ariel is not this a question which may' well ,bb. addressed to every one who is rejoicing in the multitude of his riches : who,'as he looks around him secs the mercies that have been poured into his lap; may be not be asked—ls heaven also thine ? And if such a question may be asked of the rich, may it not be asked of all, whether rich or'puor ? And may we in all sincerity nsk the reader to weigh well the. words— ls Heaven also thine t Never Rains-iu;t it Pours.—Misfortunes never come singly, it is. said. HI luck is. al ways supposed to bo, a married article arid wherever it goes, to take its evil blood along with it. Good fortune, by the way, is very much an article ol the same character. If you will observe attentively, you will observe that one stroke of success is usually followed up by a variety of others, perhaps lesser ones, appa rently disconnected from tire first one ; yet re ally possessing toward it the relationship of a natural consequence. Their original coup is the “tide in the allairs of men” which has been taken at the flood, and what follows is the in cidental movement of that flood which leads to future. It never rains but it pours, in both cases; hence it is the part of wisdom, when the shower comes, whether for our. injury or advantage, to rember that the greater the flood the flood the sooner it might exhaust itself: and prepare for a reverse accordingly. Good luck cannot,last forever; neither can bad luck —which's a comfort to the afflicted. Counsels for the Young.— Fight hard against a hasty temper. Anger will come; but resist it stonily. A spark, may set a house on fire. A lit of passion may give you cause to mourn all the days of your life . If you have an enemy, not kindly to him, and make him your friend. You may not win him over at once, but try again. Let one kindness ho followed fay ariothor. till you have accom plished your end. By little and Utile, great things are accomplished. Whatever you do, do it willingly. A boy that is whipped at school, never learns his les son well. A man that is compelled to work, cares not how badly it is performed. He that pulls oil Iris coat cheerfully, strips up his sleeves in earnest; and sings while he works, is the man for mo. (Cr - A contemporary pathetically asks,‘what shall we do with Society ?” Lot it alone, we answer, and turn your attention to reforming individuals. Once gel men and women to think and act properly, and society will be all right. This cry about the depravity of society” is all a grand humbug, and is only used by men who' are afraid to particularize instances of vice and corruption. Like some fashionable preachers, they talk about the sins of the world, but ne ver allude to the sins of their congregation.” An Old Man in Love. —In Albany, an old gentleman, worth some half a million of dollars, fell desperately in love with his servant girl. Ho proposed and was accepted ; but the old gentleman’s children learning -how'."matters stood, threatened him with n berth in- the tuna- tic asylum. He became alarmed at this, and finally told the girl ‘it couldn’t be did.’ Young lady hears the announcement, and then talks of ‘cold pizen’ and blasted hopes. She consults a lawyer, and threatens to make Rome howl. Her lawyer brings suit for breach of promise, and to get out of the scrape the old gentleman pays 52500. A Keek Rebuke. A young lady of our ac quaintance. while Philadelphia one of the rainy evenings of last week, requested her sister to hold the umbrella for her. A gen teel-looking young man, hearing the remark, said: “I’U carry it for you. Miss.” Quick as thought the young lady replied: “How is it. sir, that you are at larjfe ? I thought all yup pies were kept at home or had muzzles on !■ The young man left. , AT 52,00 P£K ANNUM A Poem ill the Homeric Style. [The following is n good imitation of the soft stories published in the fashionable sensation papers:] On a pine wood shell. in an alley dark, where scattered ttjoonbcams, shining through a row of tottering chimneys, and an awning torn and drooping fell, strode back and forth, with stiff,' tense-drawn muscle and peculiar tread—a cal. His name w;os Norval; on yonder neighbor ing sbedhisfalher fought the cats that came in squads from streets beyond South Pitt, in search o( food and strange adventure. Grim- war he courted, and his twitted tail amT spine upheaving in fantastic curve, and clatrs distended, and cars Bally pressed against ahead thrown back defiantly, told of impending strife,. With eyes e-gleam, and screeching blasts of war, and pteps as silent as the falling dew, young NorVai crept along the splintered edge, and gazed a moment through the darkness down, with a tail wagging triumphantly. 1 ■ Then, with -an impression and “ growl, in direst vengeance, hissed, ho started back, and (crooked in body like'a letter S. or rather like a 0 inverted, stood in fierce expectancy. ! ■ ’Twas well. With eye-balls glaring and ears nslant.-and open-mouth in which Tangs stood forth in sharp and deadly conformity, slow up a post froin out a dark below, a head ap peared. . A dreadful'tocsin'of determined strife, young Norral uttered ; ■ then, with face unblanchtd, and moustache standing straight before his nose, and tail Hung wildly to the passing breeze, stepped back in-cautions invitation to the foe. , Approaching the other, and with prepara tions dire, each cat surveyed the advantage of the field. Around .they walked, with tails up lifted and hack high in air, while from their mouths, in. accents hissing with consuming rage, dropped brief but awful sentences of hate. . - '. Thrice.round the roof they went in circle, with an eye upon the foe intently bent; then sideways' moving, as is wont With cats, gave one Jo'ng-dfawn, terrific, savage yell, and buck led in.. The fur (tew. . A mist of hair hung over the battle-field. ' High ’hove the din of passing wa gonsirbSe Ihe dreadful tumult of the strife and battle of the struggling cats. So gleamed their eycs iriiffcnzy, that to me, who saw the conliict fronva. window near, not else was plain but fiery stars', that moved in orbits, most ccccn trier,' -- •: An hour, they struggled in tempestuous might —thchfairit and fainter grew the sound of war. until till Sound was hushed. Then went I forth witli-liinthurn, and the field surveyed. What saw’l ? j; Six olaws —of teeth, perhaps a handful; dud sa,vo fur,' nought else except a solitary tail. — That tail was Nerval's —by a ring I knew it. The car - was—but we’ll let the matter pass. The tale will do without the car.’’ The Corsair Chief. The crow.,of.a wcll-oarcd boat were scon has- tening towards the shore ; in the stern sat a .wrapped in (v lqjfsc olpafc; his head ,^eke4Apoft.dH'S!,hand,.in , ;a'ppndcri,ng'iBtii‘tude. and he seemed to take no part 'with the others in,lhe ;boat. . The lofty plume in his cap partly concealed ;hia features, but the broad sword .which was fastened to, his side, and four large pistols'Which hung from his belt, plainly indi cated His profession. - It was a fine moonlight night; the storm was completely hushed; the face of the heavens unclouded and serene; the waters, which a short time before dashed their white spray to .tho. sky, were now peacefully dancing in the light of the moonbeams, and all was silent and serene. The chieftain ordering his men to remain si lent until they heard the signal, first sprung on the beach, and ordered his faithful Hugo to follow ; he did so, and they proceeded. They hud not gone,far when , the attendant looking around suddenly slopped and exclaimed: “We proceed no farther!’’ “Why ?” Said Alberto, in astonishment. , “Because we dare not,” answered the ruffian. ■•Soldiers advance, and Alberto is your prison' »r. if ' “Treacherous villain,” said the corsair, “be this thy reward,” and he made a desperate lounge at him, but the other quickly springing aside, evaded the b'ow. “Tear that-bugle from him,” said ho to the soldiers, who now advanced, “or he will yet be. rescued.” But it was too late; already it had sounded an animated war note, and as the .last strains were dying o’er tiie waters, was answered as loudly' from . the boat, and immediately the splashing of oars was heard at a distance. “Distraction,” said Hugo, “wo will yet be lost: surround him quickly.” The glittering broadsword of the corsair Hashed bright in the light of the moonbeam, but not so bright ns the blaze from his indig nant eye t three of his antagonists had already fallen berjeath his powerful arm, when a faint scream was heard. Alberto, turning round, beheld Victoria endeavoring to rush to the scene of slaughter, withheld by two of the .sol diers. Maddened at the sight, he furiously at tacked his remaining assailants, and tried to burst a passage through them to reach the ob ject of his love ; the cowardly assassins poured around him in numbers : Alberto gave a wist- rl look towards the sen. and beheld his faith ful band pressing towards him. Their bright falchions blazed over their heads, and with a loud shout they sprang upon.the beach. “They came—’twas but to add to slaughter. His heart’s best blood was on the water.” ,0n the following morning a dreadful scene was presented to the eye —the entire bond of pirates had been cither slain or token prisoners —but ere they had been overpowered, their chieftain's death was avengedi for lingo was found a stiffened corpse among the heaps of slain. llonntni.B Pictujik op Life. —What a dread ful picture for an old man’s death-bed it would be, if ho could contemplate in one solid group and their original condition, nil that he had ea ten and drank, all that ho had worn on his per son, or converted into an article of lusure or convenience, for his use, during his life! What hogsheads of water, milk, tea, coffee, brandy, ale. wine, &c. What fields of waving grain! What ship loads of c'othcs. of timber, of trum pery and gew gnw! What an army of oxen, sheep, and smaller animals! What a universe of fowls, and birds, and similar ‘smaller deer And Heaven only knows what a mountain of dirt, imperceptible till presented In this form of accumulation ! If an infant could reason, and if at its berth it could be presented With such a spectacle ns a perfect picture of the task it would have in its life to complete, how it would shudder at the horrible conditions bn which it vfas asked to accept such existence! How it would beg to escape such punishmentTct We not only endure —-we loVe the labor—we only shudder at the prospect of its cessation. 03” Wisdom is the olive which springs'lVom tho heart, blooms on the tongue,-and bears fruit in (ho actions.- CC7“ ltd Who feives a trifle meanly t» the Vneaner trifle of.tho two. 05” When meft sbnso ns, wb should suspect ourselves j when they praise ns; them."> 05” Piolry is like claret—to bo enjoyed only when very now bt very old. ' 05” The slanderer is like the chafticleon—hb destroys his prey by a dart of his tongue. 05“ Childhood and genius have the same mas ter organ in common—inquisitiveness. 05“ The only kind oflico performed for us by our friends; of whfch Wo never complain, Is oWf iftmcral. 05“ It may bo very well for innocence to sleep in the bosom; but it had better bo Wide awako sometimes. - . NO. 1. 05“ What would our day bo,without its morn ing and evening twilights 7 A Serco and burn ing oyo without n lid. . 05“ « That’s the rock On which We spill, 5 ' Said a waggish hnib'dh'd to his Wile when she asked liim to rock the cradle. If ever you see any Common rascal Icl as readily as yoiir'selfinto a iiohse yoU visit, g 6 out of it immediately- - . , 05“ the man who has no conscience of.bia own to keep is generally life moiSl anxious fo bd the keeper of other = ttj?* An ait bjr which wo make one friend and one enemy is a losing game, for yeyenge fa it much stronger principle than gratitude.' . 05“ Ttio best sort of an anti-lefiter is. an if], dusfrioiis woman who keeps her hushanil’S aha children’s cloths monded. K7~A mind might ponder its thoughts for, ages and faol gain as much self-knowledge - 4Si tho passion of love shall roncli It In one day.- , KT* NplsodJr is more certain to bo ovcr-rcach od than your sharp fellow. If nobody olso evet reaches him, ho is very sure to ovetfeach hibt solf. . , , [X? 4- Ttiere are (fnths which some despise be cause they have not examined them, andwhich they will not examine because -they despisb them. , . K?* The follies of the fool aro known to thb world lint hidden from himself; those of tho. wise man are known to-himself and Hidden from the world! CG?- A young Tennessee girl recently nmrHctl a stranger, alleging that she should have plenty, of time to become acquainted with him alter* wards. '; K?” Tlib eaftli is d fonder ami kind mother id the Husbandman;, and yet at one season He at ways liarrowaHer bosom, and at another pliieki her ears. u ' OS'” An English InlSsiohafy heft in Sumaird lately wrote homo that he had “ had the melan choly of examining tlio oVob hr which his pto-: decessor was booked.” D2f A man' boasting in a Company of- ladledi that ho had a very luxurious head of hair, a lady present remarked that' U was altbgblHcf owing to the mellowness of the soil. C 3“ A bill is pending in OHO of pur wasterri legislatures to empower women to make con* tracts. They should by all Itleans bo autliofr I red to Contract—they have been expanding tod much. ' - Cl3^Delicate health sbems to bo taught fit some female schools; ft becomes a part of edu cation— the. finishing part, lor, she is not far from the end who “ wouldn’t bo hearty for all tho world.” IE?” It seems that the past winter was a very severe one In Utah.- Wood was’thirty dollars a coni; coffee eight dollars, and tea fdprlebli dollars a pound, hud scarce at that; rind bluet luxurios.at proportionate prices, '' Thousands have Wondered how the djr can adhere, back downwards, to tho smoothest substance. -The microscope reveals, however, that the little animal does it by. having tits' febl fitted with pimps, . ’ . K 7“ Many persons, When they find tliomsolvei in danger pf shipwreck lii, the-Voyage of file, throw tboir darling vicim;HV.eri»ard, as\.btHpr_i mariners their treasures, oniy tb .'flsh fhenr up again when tho storni is nvoh ... • ' Bs* A witness Was recently rtslted in one Of ' our courts How lie knew iltat a certain coaplo; • concerning whom he was testifying, were mad and wife. “Why,” said ho, “ I’vo heard ’ctil, quarreling more than fifty times!” . £7“ Never allow misfotlunu to hrakfe yousejt fish, but imitate the example of Fcnelnn, whtf, when his library was on iirti, exclaimed; •• God bo. praised that it is not the dwelling of a pooh' man.” ■ ' Qy The power for good width a clean, fru gal, industrious, sensible wotnan exercises ovof her husband and Children is only exceeded by* the power lor evil Which is exottised by a slot venly, extravagant, idle, foolish Woman. □y An unprincipled man annoyed sotno of the girls omplUjed in a factmy at PcterSburgh, Va., by following them to itnd from their boards ing house, offering them presents, Ktc.; until re cently the girls gathered arotmd him, en mam, and gave him a sound thrashing, lie left town that same day dm! lias net been heard front since. , (jyjlfr. B. Ilf. WdolsCy, an Alabama plaff for, who lately Imported a filiraber of camels for plantation service, writes to the Savannah Republican.lbat his experiments so furore satis factory. On the plantation tho cable) is awiN ward of course, but not rcsflvo, or unwilling, of intractable. A Happy Max.—George Wilkins Kendall; formerly editor of tho Mow Orieilhs I’icayuh'e,' but who fora number of years past has lived upon Ids /arm, near Mow Braunfels, Texas,wrifed thus glowingly,l6 a friend in Boston I have riow about tlvo thousand sheep, and aft lino stock. Have realized ovef setelity-flvopof cent, profit per annum on tho investment sioed wo have been here, which will do for hard times. Flocks are no\y in liner and healthier fcomliliort tlinn evert My good hick has now lasted three' years without intermission. 1 went to NowOc-r leans last Christmas time, frith my wife and old-, cst daughter j Was gone si* weeks, winch wad qnilo long onongli. I would’nt live in'a city if you would give mo one, fain in flio onjoymon'f .of tho very best health, and am holr ten ycard younger llian't was ten years ago—and tiVenty years gained in the life of a titan paSt (ho raftli die ago, is something W orth tho Whflp. Modmoji country as this for children on life! taco W tho earth. It id never tho liof hero; never too cold, always pleasant; 1 have a-sol of good neighbors, and shall sobfi have (ho right kind ol society arolmd (tie. - A Pi..tir.lr-f3r,(-rt!> l-'ACi.—A celebrated di vine says; " People mnf ask “What havO' yOu (b do With amusements 7” 1 have not to do with them; but God made chan <o do with them. This is human nlttfire r and friati takes a wrong course who tries to dam up human nature. I want to’ try to turn human nature In a right direction and to let them have good amusements, for flicyllko' thofu. Whore is tho man fluff does net like io hate atnnsc/nefit 7 Why I |ike (O' sea a kitteff wag its cavft tail. If tho ministers had done Iheif duty In trying to guide and direct tho amuse ments of (lie people, there woOld not be s 6 fOafiy bad amusements as thefo ii at thii da+. 05” We are told Of tf ta’Ukco in Kansas who was discovered a short lliUo since scouring an old gun barrel. Oh being usTtcd what ho intend ed to do with It, replied, lhathe was “fixing up” to go Into the liquor hnain&s, and to avoid the law was going to use this tfoiV mho fnStcsH ot glass tumblers, thereby mttkitog it owvdf-th&t he was selling liquor by the barrel. Ho Comd. swear to that, ami none of his accusers would bo permitted to go behind tho letter of his amf. niatton, to inquire or prove what kind of if bar rel ho Used, or what quantity it hold. O’Lewis, what did yen do‘with your UeW trousers ?” asked nu anxious ptfpal.' “I swopped thorn ofl.’’ “For what 1" ‘•A slung snot, Colt’s resolver, and a double pocket book full U 0 sogCr buttons Varieties,
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