IRICANVOLUNTEER,
PUBLISHED EVERY. THURSDAY SIORNIRb BY
Jolt ll B. Bratton.
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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,