' ‘' ' " OPn COUNTRY—MAY IT TO OB- - e; OL. 46., LUCAN VOLUNTEER, HED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BY OHN B, BRATTON. -'.terms. •• ■JMS;PTiON.~Ono Dollar and Fifty Cents, paid Two Dollars if paid within the year; Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid witbin : These terms will bo rigidly adhered to in No subscription discontinued until are paid unless at the option of the 'V- - ■ - —Accompanied by the cash, and ■ not'Wxdfecdih'g lono square, will be inserted three ■ timds forjOnei'Dollar, and twenty-five cents for each •’-%ddluoi)mwbVtion. Those of a greater length in jprwotfcidilS-^ ’ ;Joa-E|B . Pampblel accuracy 1 t ■ 'Cor.', ?an.i'- fill''- hTG—SucR as Hand-bills, Posting-bills, flunks, Labels, Ac. &c. t executed with 'at tbo shortest notice. ■ ” nan, ' rtia, • Alb- Jrij,; • ftotkal. lon the loss of a child. ; lint sleeping with shut eyes, no more the sun shall rise; '"Plough ho shall wake anon, and sob •’nlcndor of eternity. i! how still and deep his rest! inds are folded on his breast; »sod his limbs, and calm his face— to both in mien and grace.. how few, though,.llls years— , ig of more smiles than tears; ' our fondest hopes wore cast— it beloved, because our last - was fairer than a mourn imor, when the rose is born; , -r • iw, as fleeting aa the rose, ’ P a *° hoalccps, Hko winter enOws. V , longthe day will seem—bow long hia sweet and ploaaant song j music of oiir homo is fled, our little bird is dead. Mm* fl^?°PB w^6ro ; when the y.oara have flown; solemn bed shall bo pur own ; ,ppMnd there, where ho bos gone before, souls.shall meet to.part no more. • ’Afe two' rosebuds crushed in snow Jv .^ rc cheeks of Bonnie 8011, violets that grow . . the; daises in the dell her eyes—tho.stars of night No’or a mortal heart did swell such pure and fond .delight, As .the eyes of Bonnie Bell, . [ ;’<^^^- : M u sso trembles on the lip ' ' - Of the fairy Bonnie Belli J -jfiy Oh ! I'd give such sweets to sip, [ ft « v r ‘v Wealth that Croesus ne'er could tell ; f; rALi r -. ! --;X'W£>uld coix my brain and soul, ly Could tho mintage by a spoil 1 >3Phat would waft mo to my goal— . I -Waft anil win mo Bunuiu Bell I i tho sound of silror ftnbj - . Xs lhci voido of Bonnio Bell; ‘ ■ it, like hubbies on the wine, Pure as pearls in ocean shell, larklo through her golden theme; Joyful ris a marriage bell jonld glide adown life's stream. ( v & Tlri one boat with Bonnie Bell, t - : BONNIE BELL. ,«.r 'I Told iny Love. .glories of a sleigh-ride in tho spark ■ - air of a Canadian winter! The and exliilerating—keenly bright,. i«jSwßHßjt a different degree of lucidity from bright- summer’s day. Broad, ex —the city receding behind us, IMal |rsos, leaping onward to the music of bolls, make for the broad, bdund- The fir forests are claspod in a ghostly slumber. Far away on our those pathles funeral groves whore P!idm£wplVes aggregate in hundreds. To the 1 ridge of hills sloping down to tho : is locked up in tho iron mana ;; cleSjOfitfie Winter King. Ahead, and right we are bound—over waste, Andiplain, and clearing—lies a snugly shol- the head-quarters of the “lum the voyagcur. Our destination is ifotqmt&so far. ; destination is a broadly-spread, with its almost numbor- consisting of cattle*sheds and roofings for winter,fodder, other concomitants'Siirroun- all palisaded by zig-zag fen- out-works to protect the oom fortobldpitadel. Within it, warm fires blaze ■on^^^i?^i& onil tho huge and odorous logs ! oglin' , broad and bounteous hearth, ijnmon chamber, raftered and intiquo gothic hall, are warm ■Ug eyes. Bearded men and there—laughing maidens and ; hunters, who have just shak :Jieir f»rs at tho portals, Be. yet musical baritone of tho 3 it goes by, stinging cheeks, ito purple, and making tho muts of mirth and laughter ire.aJ blasts; and our leaping -flying along rather—to tho P musical bell, is fast, first ap trminus, pfks tho reader, “who . >“ * - 1 hasten to answer, fife- ’tr 8 ?- our * mm blo servant, the jodirrator, Dick Harding by name, but a few from tho banks of the Isis, with rospeot. I add a few of my Rather good looking; a fair tith wonderful vigor straight louldor; am five feet ton and in play the fiddle, a game of the temper of an angel, Thad irty of adventurous sportsmen, something worthy of Alexan flshing tackle, spears, and " had done no inconsiderable ig the denizens of the Canadian 1 1 i j ,” and hunted tho bold and picturesque fastues i • seakV> i- Enough# myself; Now for my compan -1 (~ioh9.',' . i .i. Place mix dames, therefore—for nestling by i.jny.aido, wrapped up in rugs and worm furs |‘ iB;’Botft.d’ArviUe— a bright-eyed, rosy-lipped’ toughing Canadian, as lovely a girl woman of ’ seventeenas glance of man over rested com. phtoanttyiupon. Tho Canadian mother and theiKgmdhifather wore expressed in her name. i lambent oyos had exorcised their ore this; and the modula troim#sy»|ce unequalled for its low, soft : .BwedtheaiSffiPmplotod the young syren’s tri- by tho way; for we had ox. ,‘Ohangod,ha-;confidonco as yet on a subject ; very, near my heart. to a merry sleighing party, form—ostensibly to hunt upon : U VWt’itiyaJo, which accounts for my two rifles .•Md'ftrnmumtion lying in the sleigh, and for . the npble.deer-hound, tho third “individual,” 1 Stellamou*. jvho.had curled up his great body at our feet, and aided to keep them warm. I had known her brother —a young officer in the Canadian Biflcs—had killed “bar” at the “Salt licks” ■with him ; hod met lota and her family on board a St. lawronce steamer, and was now a guest at their house, enjoying their frank and bounteous hospitality. “Hurrah 1” Through tho keen, sonorous air, sleigh and horses bound along! “Cling, clnngl” gO the chiming bolls. “Crick, crack!” goes the long thonged whip, with a sharp,, cheery significance. .My “Madawasko Cari ole," a sleigh which is the perfection of loco motion, is not less perfection that the fiery steeds, with their sinews of elastic steel, which I drive. Driving a sleigh tandem is the easiest thing in tho world, when you are used to it. I was a member of the. “Tandem Club,” and reck oned a crack hand, of course. I exulted in my skill now, as I boro my rosy companion through tho air, and tho whip wont “crack—• crack!” like a double-barrel going off, and the sweet bells sang and chimed. Oh 1 sweet sweet echoes of far distant wedding-bolls 1 I thought—and tho crisp snow was split and shattered into diamonds under the grinding, of tho hoofs and the attrition of the ‘runners;’ and with an exhilaration I could not repress, I gave a vigorous “hurrah!” which convoyed itself to Lota, wrapped up in moose and bear skins, and warm ns a toast. A sweet, girlish laugh echoed my exulting shout, ' “You appear to enjoy this, Mr. Harding!” sli6 s*xici “If I don’t—’“Crick—crack!” filled dp the hiatus. What a pair of beauties IPhoebus Apollo never drove their like bown the stoops of the heaves ! The wily Ithacan never raised such cattle when he cleared the stables of Rhesus of his horses! “Crick-—crack!” and tho gallant horses neigh and toss their arching necks, and tho bells are chiming and tinkling, and tho mad, ex.ulting rush uplifts one like- wine. . I remark, to myself, that the sky has deep ened into an intense, still darkening blue— darkening with a strange, unearthly, tonebri ous inkiness, betokening a coming snow storm. " No matter—“ Windy-gap” is right i ahead, and the welcome lights will gone out of tho casement soon, for the afternoon is wearing. On wo go—but I do, not see them yot; and yet—but no—it’s all right! "Are you warm—quite snug, dear Lota?" said I, half turning to look at the rosy, exqui site face peeping forth with so much furtive coquetry from its encadremeni of white cozy furs. I “Oh, so comfortable!” she answered, with n nestling movement, and a smile which made my heart leap joyously upward. ' But my attention was called away to the creeping, crepcscular inkiness Of the sky. It was light, yet not daylight, but blue light—to coin a word, the wintry hue of livid darken ing- steel, always, the precursor of a fierce change in the weather." This only niado. tho long'Tevel plains of snow gleam with a lustre ■the mord dazzling arid intense;' I remarked this, but with a momentarily divided and wa vering sense. I had never, familiar as wo had grown (and I was “honest ns the skin between your brows,” as .die was, in fact) —I had neversaid "dear Lota” before, and tho words were yet in my ears like a sweet old burthen. T loved her with all my heart and soul, but I had never told it. I yearned to toll her so now; but I thought it scarcely fair—not up to the mark of my’manhood— to take what seemed an unfair advantage of tho - protection I was supposed to extend over her. I magnani mously resolved to wait—choking down tho words—but not for long. Meantime, “crick—crack!” went the long whip, and still “cling—clang” went the chim ing bells, and the horses held on with unaba ted pace and splendid vigor, blit— where had “Wmdy-gap” gone to all this time? for the time was up, and we should bo there by this time, “Goodness!” exclaimed Lota, all at onee, “how strange the sky looks; we shall have more enow—a heavy fall, too.” “I fear so,”. I replied; “but n’imports, we’ll soon bo out of it.” “Wo are very long, I fancy,” she continued reflectively; “you have driven there quicker than this before. Oh, Heaven!” she cried, with the suddenness of a revelation, “can we have lost tlie track ?” , The blank question harped with a horrible jar on my most vivid nerves. Now or never was the time to be quite cool. “No, I think not," I replied, with assumed carelessness; “we shall come to our land mark, presently.” “A clump of firs—an old mill, farther on; yes," she added, “I recollect; but we should have passed them‘long ere this; Ch, I fear we are lost!” A cold chill seized me as I tacitly admitted that she was in thp right. I could not ac count for my error, if such was the case, I looked round the horizon, but beheld no friendly sign; it was only a ‘circle gathering closer, and growing darker all the while, Suddenly, my bravo deer hound lifted up his head, and uttered a low growl, The hor. sed'gave a startled swerve just as suddenly, A strange, lugubrious, but appalling sound came all at once from windward, wailing like a death cry—=a prolonged, awful, groaning discordance —over the white gleaming snow; and then it died away, The horses halted, trembling; only the shivering tinkle of the bojls broke the death silence that fell like a n eclipse over all, '•What is that ?” asked Lota, in a shudder, ing whisper, as she clutched my arm, I; f listened, _ **lt Is the wind sighing, and 'dying away in the pine forest,” X answered. “And wo do not go near the forest," she said, , “Hark 1 there it is again, Oh, what— whai can it be 7” Again the indescribably hideous and lugu brious sound broke forth; clearer—nearer. It increased ; it multiplied; the horrible cre~ scenco, howling, shrieking, and raving, was not that of the wind this . time. Merciful God 1” gasped Lota; the wolves!’’ I never understood, till that moment, what the concentrated essence of literal, deadly horror might mean. I never experienced the shook before, or since, and I have, in my hunting excursions, faced my danger and played out the game manfully. To have lost the way was terrible enough; but—the wolves —and Lota I An instant I was numb and dumb. It was true, however, The severity of the weather, the migration or scarcity oftho ani mals on whom thoSo unclean creatures preyed, had made their hunger a raging, devouring madness. They were encroaching on civiliz ed territory, and losing their usual oharaoter isticund craven cowardice, wore approaching the habitations of men, haunting village and settlement. Woo to those in their path 1 As the infernal howl rose lingeringly again, the horses dnrtod_ away with a shrill, neigh of fear, and I guided them—-beginning to recov er myself—-in an opposite direction;'while “Terror," my noble hound, stood upwlthove ry fang bared, and every hair on end, waiting for the enemy he had already scented. If my good horses had gone on so admira-; bly at first, they sped off now like arrows from the bow; fojytbe madness of fear added wings to their speeoj aa that of hunger did to our panting pursuers. I was growing cold; Lota was pale, but calm. I felt proud of her, though it was certain that if wo escaped not speedily, the brutes would run us down, and then, horror of horrors! what a fate for Jier! I had two rifles, a revolver, ammunition, a spear, and a wood-hatehot in the “sleigh.” I conveyed my intention to Lota. “Can you load these weapons with those cartridges V I asked. “Yes,” was the answer; and she loaded a “Fuller” and a “Manton” with true hunter’s skill. I took one rifle—looked back—the pack was increasing; I fired, and Lota loaded; and one after another fell, to be devoured by their ravenous comrades; and still the horses sped on. 'i'he accursed things wore, for all this, gain ing ground. Doubts, fears, hopes, trembling wore at my heart as I turned to the sweet girl whoso life or death were all in all to mo, and said: “Lota! if we die together, remember that I loved you-—none hut you !' I tell it to you now, if I may never again !” “Kill mo first,” she whispered. “I hear your words; I echo them. You have my heart, Richard .” “Oh, Lota 1 besf beloved! what a moment to confess; and I know not if I fool pain or gladness most." “There are now.no secrets between us,” said Lota, smiling; “take this rifle ; give mo the pistol; one kiss—so! they oomo. Save mo from them at any cost.” I thought my oars would have split at their dreadful yells, for they were now upon us, opening out to surround us; and though the horses hold bravely- on, I dreaded, every in stant, that sheer terror would paralyse them. It is scarcely, possible to conceive the unut terable horror that was circling us both; young lovers with beating hearts, forever, from that hour, interchanged with each other. With .lolling tongues, eyes of flame, hoarse; deep growls, they had ceased to bay and howl, they wore closing in upon us. I remarked one hugemonstor in advance of the rest; his object being evidently to leap into the sleigh from behind. I fired—and missed him! The next moment his huge bulk came scrambling over the back; his paws were on mo; his fie ry breath on my ohepks; and I expected, as I murmured a short prayer, to feel the fangs of theabhorrent brute in my flesh. I A flash I ; —a crash I—a gush of blood—and the creature tumbled backward, shot through the neck, to the spine, by my bravo Lota 1— Then I plied hatchet and split skull after skull, while the sleigh tore on; but I was giv ing up all hope, and turning round—oh! Hea ven!—to ■ spare ray darling a more hideous, fate, when shots and .shots rang around, and troops of dogs and hunters camo swiftly to our aid, and—and we were both saved I 'Providence had directed" the sleigh to “ Windy-gap;” our firing reached the hearing of our friends, and brought them but in. hot haste to aid us ; We wore saved; and as I bore her fainting form into ■ the hospitable hall, and clasped her tenderly to my bosom, you may guess how sincere was the gratitude I breathed in silence to Heaven. , . It was the prelude to a wedding, which oc curred soon afterwards; and you maybe sure I never forgot my fight with the wolves, how pluckily my noble Lota backed mo, or, the somewhat original but apropos mode in which “ I told my Love." [Translated from the German ] THE MAGIC BOX. A housekeeper’s affairs had for a long time been becoming very much entangled, and the poor wpnian know not what to do to got out of her difficulties. After a time she bethought herself of a wise old hermit who lived in the neighborhood, and to him she repaired for advice. She re lated to him all her troubles, saying, “ Tilings go on badly enough; nothing prospers in-doors or out;- pray sir, can you not devise some re medy for my misfortune ?” The hermit—a shrewd, rosy old man— bogged her to wait, and retiring to an inner chamber of his coll, after a short time brought but a curious-looking box, carefully sealed up. “Take this,” said he, “and-keep it for one year;- but you. must, throe times a day and threo tidies a night, carry it into the kitchen, the cellar and stable anil sot it down in each corner. I answer for it, that shortly you will find things improve. But be sure, at the end of the year, to bring back the box. Now, farewell,” The good woman received the precious box with many thanks, and bore it carefully home; The next day, as she was carrying it Into the cellar, she mot a servant who had boon secret ly drawing a pitcher of beer, As she wont a little later, into the kitchen, there she found a maid making-, a supper of omelets, In the stable, she discovered, deep in mire, the best cow standing, and the horse uncurried, had hay instead of oats, So’every day she discov ered and corrected some now faults, ' At the end of thp year, she, fhithful.to her promise, carried the magic box bnpk to the hermit, and besought to allow her’to keep it, as it had had a moat wonderful effect.— “Only lot me keep it one year longer, and I am sure, all will be remedied," The hermit smjled and replied, “I cannot allow you to ko°P the box, but the secret that is hidden within you shall have." Ho opened the box, and lo 1 it contained nothing but a slip of paper, on which was written this coup. “ Would you thrive most prosperously. Yourself must every corner see,” Two Ginns Rescued fEoji Australian Sa ■ vaoes.— The Sydney Herald gives an account - of the rescue of two European girls froni Fra -1 zer Island, believed to be the only survivors out of all the passengers wrecked in the Sea Bello, They were taken from the natives of the island on the 22d of October—wore found sixty miles inland. The Herald says “the girls appear to be about the respective ages of fifteen and six years; their appearance is heart-rending; their bodies, emaciated from long suffering and exposure to the weather, are covered with a coating of hair; the skin, stained by their tormentors to assimilate with their own, has become spotted and wrinkled as if from old ago; tho noso has been flattened by force, the limbs distorted, and the vacant stare of idiocy has loft those poor creatures scarcely in appearance human, and although enabled gradually to recognize such things as they must have been jn the habit of seeing hourly before they fell into the hands of the natives, their acquaintance with their mother tongue is, ns yet, apparently guito gone."— Other Europeans are believed to be prisoners' of the blacks on Frazer Island. O'Tho difference between an oyster and a chicken is, that one is best just out of tho shell, and tho other isn’t. CARLISLEi [PA.. THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1860. Many years since, soon after ,the opening of the Norwich and Worcester Railroad, a stout looking innocent, about six feet iin his stock ings, -with thews and thighs to'match, stood in the Depot at Worcester, gating 1 with evi dent admiration at tho “ bran pew cars” and “ snorting 1 ' locomotive which had just arrived at that station. A roguish citizen who stood near him. watching Ins undisguised wonder; attentively, and drawing'near,; entered into conversation with him.' Ho wag “down from Vermont, arter, work, and wanted "to got a chance on one o’ these Railroads." “Dol" said tho joker,.“why;don’t you go and see the Superintendent?" * “AVaal, would if I know Where to find him.” I “Oh, well, eomo along with jftc—l’m going right by his office.” '' ! ' And accordingly off went the twain, straight to tho store of that demurest.(if all hoaxers, Jom_B., who stood like, a patriarchal spider, waiting for an unsophisticated human fly that might flounder in his not. i “Ah 1” said the wag who acted as a pilot, “ there he is. Hero’s a young! man, Mr. 8.,' who wants a berth on tho road as brakes man.” Jem -was posted immediately. “Well, I don’t know:; we’ve had a great many applications for the post; and, in fact, I had engaged a man to go out upon this train,' hut ns ho was not up to his engagement, I will talk to you. Ilave you been accustomed to railroading ?” “ WaraJ, no, I hain’t, hut I guess I could learn it mighty soon.- What’s the wages ?’’ “ Thirty-six [dollars a month and your clothes.” , ‘‘Waal, Mister, I’m ready, of you say so, to take right hold.” - ‘‘Tory well; then I’ll send you out On this train; hut I wish to put you on your guard with reference to one matter, and that is, that there is a trouhloaome sot of fellows continually hanging around the train proton ding, to belong to ,the road. Some of thorn may interfere with you—if they do, put them off at once—tell them I put you on tho train; and take no impudence from any of them.— As to your duties—when you hear one whis tle, screw on your brakes.; if two alarms are sounded, screw them down hard ; and when three are given, loosen the brakes for the train to go on. I’ll go with you and put you on tho train. You return here to night, and then r I will see about your boarding-plaoo.” ; . Accordingly, down they went, to the station, and there the pretended superintendent show? cd his employee the brakes and inode of using them, leaving with him a fresh .injunction to ‘‘ knock down any one who attempted to in terfere with him." ‘ .Before many minutes the Vermonter had: a customer; The whistle souhded, and on wont thp brakes. , . , , aro y°u doing there. with that brake7■. * snouted ,a ' brakesman; “jump off there in a hurry, .jfiwm* don’t want your beachbroke.’?. ,' Jonathan looked at, his rude interrogator (a small man) with contempt, but disdained to reply. * , . 1 “ S-h-ree 1” wont the whistle, and now brakesman screwed away for life, until snap 1 went the chain. This was the cup too much, and off went the infuriated brakoman for assistance. “What are you doing there?” asked the conductor,' who returnee! with, the man, and stepping upon the platform, placed his hands on Jonathan with a view of summary eject ment. ■ A brief struggle, ensued, at tho con clusion of which the ■ conductor; lay prostrate upon his back, with the small brakesman’s head jammed between his legs; “Come on, ye darned heathens!” shouted Jonathan, now fairly aroused; “ come on—l’ll larn ye to cut your didos around me. I’m hired, I b(3; Mr.— : hired mo for this busi ness, and if I don’t learn ye to tend to yer own business, it'll bo coz yer stoutor’ri I bo.” A fresh, struggle ensued between our hero and some hair a dozen others employed on the train, who had, gathered around, and Jon athan was-finally overpowered, when an ex planation took place, and the Superintendent's store was sought for,* but could not be found, as tho incorrigible wag was not so incautious as to make the engagement in his own store; and although he was strongly suspected of being tho author of tho practical joke, no proof could be had; for by a shrewd • management of - the face and cool assurance, hidden by a different dress, ho succeeded in arguing Jona than out of the supposition, the latter having charged him with the joke. The best part of uio joke was tho denouement. The actual Superintendent; hearing of the affair, and of tho indomitable pluck, displayed by the Ver monter, sent for him and did,actually engage* him; and it is said that ho now fills a satisfac torypost upon one of the groat Western Rail ways, But such jokes being serious with six foot ©rs, Jem has been compelled'to forego similar luxuries from that‘day to this, Origin 0/ Various Plants. Every gentleman farmer ought to ho some what acquainted with the origin and history of all ordinary plants and trees, so as to know their nature; country, and condition, Such knowledge, besides being a source of groat pleasure, and very desirable, will often ona blo him to explain phenomena in the habit? of many plant? that otherwise would appear inexplicable, , Wheat, although considered by some as a native of Sicily, originally came from the cen tral table land of Thibet, where it yet exists as a grass, with small mealy seed. Rye ex ists wild in Siberia. Barley exists wild in the mountains of Himalay. Oats wore brought *ro ] u jNorth America. Millet, one species, is a n . at ! v ,° India, another of Egypt and Ab- Maize _ (Indian corn) is of native growth in America. Rico was brought from South Africa, whence it was taken to India, and thence to Europe and America. Peas are of unknown origin. Vetches are natives of Germany, The Garden Bean is from the East Indies. Buckwheat came originally from Si ■boria and Turkey. Cabbage grows wild in hicily and Naples. The Poppy was brought from the East. The Sunflower from Peru.— Hops came to perfection as a wild flower in Germany, Saffron came from Egypt, The Onion is also a native of Egypt. Horseradish from Sputh Europe. Tobacco is a native of Virgmia, Tobago, and California. Another species has been found wild in Asia. The grasses are mostly native plants, and so are the clover, except Rucerno, which is a native of Sicily, The Gourd is an Eastern plant.—t The Potato is a well-known nntivo of Peru and Mexico. Coriander grows wild near the Mediterranean. Anise was brought from the Grecian Archipelago. Lord Burleigh, a great English states man of the time of Queen Elizabeth, used to say.. “ I will never trust any man whoso ro J ligious principles art! not sound; for ho that is false to Goa can never bo a true man.” Hiring a Brahemao. TEE YANKEE LOVER’S SOLILOQUY. ■ As thin as a hatchet IV,o grown, And poor as Joli’s turkey, by golly; I stand like a scarecrow alone, . Sad victim to love's melancholy ! I feel most confoundedly blue, Life's rose is turned to a thistle; My sweetheart has turned out untrue, And sacked mo as slick as n whistle I Though lively and keen as a rat, • And playful as any young kitten, •Sho has.goftho sharp claws of a cat, Au 4 has showed 'em to mo thro’ tho mitten. Of our village girls she's tho bpllo, And plump as a partridge sho grows Ilor lips for two cherries would sell— Her cheeks aro as red as a rose! Like two bran now dollars her eyes, Her nose is turned, neater than wax, Her bosom with Venus' vies, Her hair—it is finer than flax. I courted her day after day, In tho hopo her affections to win, But my trouble is all thrown away— Like a fool, - 1 have been- taken in ! \f. I am laughed at by all of our folks— They expected a wedding to follow, She turned out a tarnation Honx, Her heart like a pumpkin, is hollow! As thin as a bean pole I grow, And crabbed and cross as a boar, My is love-cracked, I know— ;l shall lie down and die in despair! The Brave Soldier, The Constitutional gives the following an ecdote of the late war in Italy: “During the battle of Magenta tho combat was exceedingly severe around tho railway station, and as tho French regiments advanc ed, men were busily employed in removing the wounded, fearing that if their comrades should by chance be obliged to fall back, the men lying on the ground would be trampled under foot. An officer perceived a soldier on his knees near his musket, busily employed in binding up his head with a handkerchief having received a thrust from a bayonet, which had passed through hjs ebook and entered Ids loft eye. The officer asked him what ho was doing, arid seeing that he was badly wound ed, told him to go to the ambulance. “To the ambulance,” said the soldier, “and why?” “ Because you have lost your oye,” said the officer. . ' “ Yes,” said the soldier, “ but the other is still good,” at, tho-same time pointing his musket to show that ho could still take nun. In a quarter of an hour after, the railway station was in the hands of tho French. A ball fired by tho Austrians struck the arm of ' of a French soldier who was climbing up to One of the windows and ho fell. Tho same officer ran and raised him up. ■ “Ah, is that yon captain?” said tho same soldier; “ thank you, but the rascals have bro ken my arm.” *?■ . .. Wes,” said tho officer, “ have you not had enough of it now?” The soldier did not for a moment reply, but, after taking up his musket, ho said, with a smile, “it is only left, captain; the other is still good,” and ho again hurried to tho com bat. Tho captain went on also, and in a few minutes, again saw him fall down froin a shot in the breast, “Poor follow," said the officer, leaning over him. Tho soldier heard his voice, and with dying accents, said, “ Captain, you must not bo angry with me, for if I had loft the field, two other men would have boon hit, whereas, in my case it makes no great matter, as my time was evidently come." And the poor fellow, foiling back, expired.. It was tho officer who told tho story, and in his turn was killed at tho battle of Solferino. ; Such is tho fortune of war. Tlie. Llama. Tho current number of the'. Foreign Quar terly Jlevieip puts its seal to the following af fecting particulars* respecting the Llama, which it describes as authentic. “The Llama is the only animal associated with man, and undebased by tho contact.— The Llama will bear neither beating or ill treatment. They go in troops, an Indian walking a long distance ahead as guide. If tired, they stop,-and the Indian stops also.— If the delay is. groat, the Indian, becoming uneasy, toward sunset, after all sorts of pre caution, resolvoson supplicating the boasts to resume their journey. Ho stands about fifty or sixty paces off, in attitude of humility, waves his hands coaxingly toward the Llamas, looking at them with tenderness, and at the same time in the softest tone, and with a pa tience I never failed to admire, reiterates ic io-ic-io. If tho Llamas are disposed to contin ue their course, they follow tho Indian in good order, at a regular pace, and very fast, for their logs are extremely long; but when they are in ill humour they do not even turn their, heads toward tho speaker, but remain mo-; tionless, huddled together, standing or lyin"- down, and gazing on heaven with looks so ten der, so melancholy, that wo might imagine those singular animals had the consciousness of another life, of a happier existence. The straight nock, and its gentle majesty of bear ing, the long down of their always clean and glossy skin, their supple and timid motions, all give them an air at once noble and sensi tive, It must bo so, in fact, for the Llama is tho only creature employed by man that he dares not strike. If it happens (which is ye ry seldom) that an Indian wishes to obtain, either by force or throats, what tho Llama will not willingly perform, the instant the an imal finds itself affronted, by word or gesture, he raises his head with dignity, and without attempting to escape ill-treatment by flight, (Jtho Llama is never tied or fettered,) ho lies down, turning his looks toward heaven.— Largo tears flow freely from his beautiful eyes, and sighs issue from his breast, and in half or three-quarters of an hour at most, ho ox pires._ Happy creatures, who so easily avoid sufferings by dearh. Happy creatines, who appear to have accepted, life on condition of its boing happy! The respect shown those animals by the Peruvian Indians amounts ab solutely to superstitious reverence. When tho Indians load them, two approach and caress tho animal, hiding his head that lie may not see tho burden on his back. If he did, he would fall down and die. It is tho same in unloading. If the burden exceeds a certain weight, the animal throws itself down and dies. The Indians of tho Cordilleras alone possess 'enough patience and gontionoss' to manage tho Llama. It is doubtless from this extraordinary companion that ho has learned to dio when overtasked.” jjgyA summons Ims boon loft at the resi dence of Dr. S. G. Howe, in Boston, ordering him to appear before the Harper’s Ferry in vestigation committee at Washington. lie has not returned from Canada yet.- i "^T 011 ' lam B oin S East, what shall I toll your folks ?” Oh, nothing—but n they Bay anything about whiskers, you can juafc toll them Fvo got a few.’ 7 Swapping Horses. Old Ben Gray was an old toper, and Old Ball was his favorite horse. Now Old Ball was a famous good riding-horse, and the eye of every jockey in tho neighborhood had been attracted by Ins fine points; but Old Bon knew tho valuo of Old Ball too well to part with him. "When ho was top-hervy what horse could car ry him so steadily,as Old Ball; or, when en tirely overweighted, would so carefully select a soft, sandy spot for tho rider to fall on, and then so patiently wait until sloop brought so briety ? So the efforts of tho jockeys to swop or trade him out of Old Bull had boon in vain. But oho day Old Ball failed to select a spot free of stones for Old Boh to' drop on, dr be came impatient for his feed and loft,' ofiiiir some other way angered his owner, who straightway swapped with his neighbor Jones receiving as “ boot,” a “ mint drop” of the BentOmstamp and tho largest denomination. But before the day was over Old Ben sorely repented himself of his trade, ■ Besides being “ chiseled” absolutely in the trade! how could he get on without Old Ball ? But Grey knew Jones, and ho know Jones knew Old Ball; and he_ further know that there was no chance of getting Old Ball back unless he played his .game “ mighty silky." , . Old Ben matured his plan, and then mount ed his “Jones hos;” .and timed .his departure from the court-green so as to pass Jones just as ho was unhitching Old Ball from tho, tree to which.he had,been tied during the day.— Reining in. his horse, he drawled out: “Oh, Mr. Jones, this morning when I was a tradin’ Old Ball to you, I reckon I was a little drunk, and I didn’t toll you of ono of Old Ball’s tricks. Now I don’t want any bo dy hurt by anything I done ; add now I just want to tell you if ever you. come to a river, and Old Ball takes a notion to lie dmvu in the water,, just you get right off, fur Old Ball's gwin to do it certain." Jones of course, declared himself cheated in the’trade, and claimed drawbacks Tor dam ages. But Old Ben said ho only warranted Old Ball sound, “ an’ Old Ball is jes’ ns sound ns a Mexican dollar, an’ jes’ you break him of that little trick, an’ he’s jes’ as good as any man’s hos,” « Finally, after Jones’ proposal to “rue" had been rejected by Gray, a now swap was agreed on, the Jones hos for Old Ball .oven, Gray re taining tho X. . Accordingly, bridles and saddles were changed, and each man mounted his own horse, when Old Ben gave Jones another piece of information about Old Ball. “ Mr. Jones,’’ said he, ’there’s.jes’ one oth er thing about this hos I’d like to toll you: as long as I’ve been riding Old Ball ho never yet did take that notion !” SMOKING. Some five years since, says tho Christian Observer, a gentleman in Philadelphia, lit the' . bead of ono of the most, extensive ;vud wealthy banking-houses in the country, literally died I of starvation I Ho was an inveterate smoker, and. seldom was/without a cigar in his mouth, oven during business hours. The habit con tracted, in early life led to tho use of a cigar, whether lighted or not, permitting its moist ened and chewed surface to remain under his tongue, which terminated in cancerous ulcer ations. At first it was not regarded with any anxiety,„ but inflamation was an attendant evil and the immediate cause of death. The roots of the tongue ulcerated, and tho throat sympyathised with them, until it was almost impossible to swallow or breathe. Tho only nourishment months previous to his death, was of a liquid character; even that at last could not bo received, so swollen and inflamed was the seat of tho disorder. Death from starvation and suffocation finally closed the J scone, tho victim, being otherwise in perfect health, except greatly emaciated. . i “Humble Occupation.” It is time this absurd expression were ban ished from the vocabulary of Americans. It is still rooted in many minds, that one man stands higher than another in consequence of the particular vocation by. which he gains his livelihood., Some men speak deprecatingly of the humbleness of thoir daily vocations; not meaning thereby that they are thiovss or ras cals, but that they labor honestly with thoir hands in some useful employment. Wo can toll persons that there is no such thing as an humble occupation, unless it is dishonest, and that no man in, consequence of his occupation ranks higher or ranks lower than another.— All occupations have the solf-samo object— the, supply of human wants. All arc honora ble.' All arc in themselves equally honora ble. One man is endowed with the faculties required for ono employment, and another man has a gift for another; but all honest men labor for the same saend end, namely, the good of human beings. 'Benjamin Frank lin, at the compositsr’s case, was as honora ble a person as when he was embassador to France; and ho was laboring for the same ob ject—his country’s good. We do not say that all men are equally hon orable, for they are not. If wo had the honor of knowing Benjamin Franklin when ho was bobbing at the case, wo should have treated him with far more respect and consideration than some others, for the simple reason that ho was a greater and bettor man than they.—. Ho was also a capital printer. When he was transferred to other spheres of labor, ho re mained the sdmo Benjamin Franklin ho was before—a groat, wise and useful citizen, and, as such, deserving of all honor; but not one with the more honorable because ho • had changed his vocation. No profession confers honor. No honest work degrades. It is ex cellence in one’s vocation, and not the voca tion itself, that confers distinction. Lot is hear no more of “ humble occupation.’’ A gentleman complaining to his boot maker that a pair of boots recently sent to i hinj were too short, that he wanted a pair to cover the whole calf, had the following Jue his hat. . r ~ ■from the N. K Journal of Coitimerce, Feb. 3. Terrible Conflagration in New York. A Tenement House Totally Destroyed—About Tweniy-five Supposed to he Burnt to Death —Between Twenty-Jive and Thirty Bodies Burnt and Injured—List of the ICUled and Wounded, About twenty minutes past 7 o’clock last evening, the Fourteenth Ward was the scene of ono of the most disastrous conflagrations that has visited our city for a long time, aud which has boon attended with great loss of life. The Are originated in the tenement house No. 142 Elm street, near- Grand, occu pied by a baker, who had a store on the first floor. Like lightning almost, tho fire spread ,so rapidly that in loss than five minutes the stairway leading to the upper floors and hall-, way wore one mass of flames. There wore supposed to have been about sixty or seventy persons, mon, women and children, in the building at the time, and the only means of escape being by the stairway, the loss of life must, therefore, be more serious thou it was supposed at first. The escape of many by jumping out of the upper'windows, and their miraculous rescue by the firemen, shows that all communication was cut off with the lower portion of the. building. Several were seen on tho roof of the building, and tho cries of those within could be heard for some time af ter tho flames had reached tho upper stories. One woman was . observed at one of the upper windows, beseeching some one to come to her rescue, but in a short time she and that was the last seen Of her, Sorgt. Ar- : mount succeeded in rescuing a little girl, and,' in coming out, fell ever the body of a woman, lying in the hall. A woman, whose name could not be ascertained, jumped from the roof of tho house into tho alley-way, and was picked up in a dying condition. As soon as . the firemen reached the scene of conflagra tion, they worked nobly to rescue the lives of those in tho building. Groat credit is due to them, ns they rescued no less than from twen ty to thirty women and children. The im mense height of the building was such, that' for some time it was found imprudent for the l firemen, to go within, but many, regardless of the danger, entered, and through their efforts'. rescued many, . Tho burnt and injured wore carried to the drug store opposite, and to the the-, neighborhood, where their wounds were dres sed, Some wore taken to, the. hospital, and J others to the residences of some of their friends. Detective O’Keefe succeeded in sav ing the lives of a woman and four children.- The fire burnt until hear 11 o’clock before it was got under. Several of the adjoining buil dings were damaged by fire and water.- Elocution of James Stevens. At ton minutes before ton o’clock this morn ing, James Stevens, the. wife-murderer, was' executed ou the gallows in the yard of the' City Prison. There were between one and two hundred persons present, arid the cere monies were conducted in the. most solemn' manner. The Rev’s. Mr. Knapp and Skinner were with him atari early hour, administering spiritual advice, and just before he was taken • from his cell, joined with the’ culprit in his last prayer. lie passed a very quiet night,- and seemed to long for the moment which would end his sufferings.- He several times . expressed a hope' that they would hang him as early os possible/ About a quarter before' tori o’clook, Stevens was conducted from the coil,-the black cap having been placed upon -his head, and the - I noose around-Ids nock, A black- cape was thrown over his shoulders, and as he loft the' - prison he walked with a firm step 1 ,- brit at the same time leaning upon the' terms'of fwo De- - puty-Shoriffs/ As soon' as ho' got .under the ,- scaffold. ho raised his head, took a,look at.tho’ rope and then remarked, “ be as quick ns pos-’ siblo.” Sheriff Kelly then asked him if ho' : had anything to say. Stevens replied in a few words, which but few could hoar. The Rev. Mr. Knapp then asked him if ho was ready to die, and ho said, “I am, and I am innocent.” They then shook hands with him, and ns he did so with Sheriff Kelly, his Idst words were “be quick." Tho fatal cap was then pulled over his face, and almost at the' same time tho rope was out, and Stevens launched into eternity. . Ho died from straw--. gulatiqn, no bones being broken. In fact, tho execution was miserably conducted, so far as [ related to,cutting tho rope, for it seemed more like hauling him up gradually than a quick jerk, The culprit made several struggles, hut none of a desperate nature, and at tho expi ration of forty minutes ho was lowered down;- and life pronounced extinct. A rosewood coffin was near, and after tho inquest, the bo dy w r as .handed over to his friends.—.Y. 1Y Jour, of Coni, Of Fuel, 3, The Gamiilin’g Hells ■of Washington’.—• A correspondent of the Hartford Post thus speaks of the gambling hells of Washington v Tho gamblers, it is said, have suffered se-‘ vorely by tho scarcity of mone}’ bore, and sov- ; oral well known establishments arc reported as nearly bankrupt. There are about forty of these “ hells” mostly on Pennsylvania av