American iH&f fllimtor.
VOL. 48.
AMERICAN VOLUNTEER.
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY HORNING BY
JOHN It. BRATTON.
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|Wital.
THE OLD CdDPLE.
It stands in a sunny meadow,
Tho bouse so mossy, and brown,
With its cumbrous old stone chimmos,
And tho gray roof sloping down.
& 4 ,
Tho trees fold their green arms round U ,
The trees, a century old;
And tho winds go chanting through them,
And the sunbeams drop their gold., •
Tho cowslips spring in tho marshes,
And the roses.bloom-on tho hill;
And bosido the brook in tho pastures
The herds go feeding at will.
The children have gone and left them;
They sit in the sun alone! ‘
And the old wife’s ears are failing,
As she harks to the well known tune—
That won her heart in her girlhood,
- T.hat has soothed her in many a care,
And praises, her now for the brightness
Her old fuco used, to wear.
She thinks again of her bridal—
How, dressed in her robe of white.
She stood by her gay young lover
lu the light.
Oh, tho morning is.rosy as over,-
But tho rose.from her.check is fled;
And tho sunshine still is golden,
But it falls on a silvered head-.
And the girlhood-dreams, once vanished,
• Como back in her winter time,
Till her feeble pulses tremble ,
With tho thrill, of spring lime’s prime.
•And lookingTo-rth .from tho window,
She thinks bow the trees have grown,
Since, clad in her bridal whiteness,
She crossed the old door stono.
Though dimmed her eyes bright azure,
And dimmed her hair’s young gold;
The love in her girlhood plighted
HaS.nover grown dim nor Old.
■They sat in peace in tho sunshine,
Till the day was almost done;
And then, at its close, an angol
. Stole over tho threshhold stone*'
- t HXj folded'their' hddds'together—' -
Ho touched their eyelids with balni ;
Aud-thelr last breath-Abated upward, ,
Like the close of a solemn psalm.
Like a bridal pair they traversed •
The mystic road,
That leads to the beautiful city,.
\* Whoso builder and maker is God.”
Perhaps in that miracle country
• They will give her .heir lost youth babk;
And flowers of a vanished spring-time,
Will bloom in the spirit’s track;
One draught from the living, waters. ■
■ ■ Shall call back his manhood's prime;
° And' eternal years shall measure
Tho lovo tbC-t outlived time. '
But, the shapes that thoy lcft behind them,
The wrinkles and sil/cr hair.
Made holy to u& by the kisses
Thoaugel hadpHnlod there;
Wo will hide away ’heath the Willows,
•When the day is low, in the West:
Where tho sunbeams cannot find them,
Nor tho winds disturb their rest.
And wo’ll suffer no toll- alo tottibstono;
- 1 With-its ago and date, to riso , . ,
O’er tho two who'aro old no longer,
lu tho Father’s Houso in tho skies.
l&teliaaeGuc
THE “iHillvEWilKE’S” DUG.
Lortils his name was—lofty we Mostly
called him for short; hut with strangers he
answered to “Mister Loftus,” nothing less
than that. Passengers and visitors to the
ship used to try and make friends with him
«n the usual coaxing way, hut he never
took the least notice of them. If they had
anything to say, they must call him by his
proper title—talk straight out, with no non
sense about “ good fellow,” or “ fine old dog,”
or any such phrases ; then ho would listen re
spectfully, and understand what was said,
too.
I sailed in the Makewako with him going
on eight years, and will say I never had a bet
ter shipmate. Orderly and good-natured,
ho never made the least trouble, find wouldn’t
allow anybody else to enter, if he could help
it- I don't think he would interfere between
the officers and the crow, blit when wo wore
bringing emigrants Loftus would always put
a stop to disturbances' among them. He
would single out the loader in the fight, throw
him, and hold him down.until the others came
to the rescue. Sometimes lie had to throw
two or three, but the steerage soon learned to
stow shilalahs whenever Mr. Loftus appeared.
I remember one time, we wore lying in the
Wellington Dock at Liverpool, iaking on a lot
of Fardownors—and the Steward had some
difficulty with oho. Ilia only argument was
a rope’s end, and when Lofty thought the
poor Greek had enough he intimated as much'
quite plainly. But by somo moans the stew
ard contrived to get a line in his collar and to
make it first in the main rigging; then the
Fardownor had to suffer. Pretty soon the
dog parted the line with his teeth, quietly
wont ashore, and rolled himself over and over
in the thick, black tide mud—stole 01 board
again and crawled, whole length, into Mr.
steward’s berth. After that he wouldn’t go
to market for a long time, and on the whole,
I think the steward got rather the worst of
it.
' Ho did all our marketing—Loftus did, and
never once made a mistake to rhy knowledge.
They would try tricks with him sometimes,
out wore.very likely to pay for it by loss of
hie custom. He was acquainted with most of
the market-men, and if one did not treat him
'roll ho would go to another.
' I sailed in Stirling & Field's Lino five
years before I got to bo first mate, and then
the very next voyage I camo near losing the
number of my moss.* While we wore in Liv
erpool tho cholera boko out among the ship
?l ng V™ W in thafc steaming mud hole
Qm the first of July until tho lost of August,
before we could get men enough to take the
craft *to sea. Meantime wo lost poor Captain
Hepworth—the beet officer in the Line—and I
came pretty nigh-going too. Loftug watched
me and tended mo like a true friend, and I do
believe if it hadn't been for him I never could
have pulled through, for there was hardly
anv one to even pass a cup of water.
When the new Captain came down from
London he called on me, and I didn’t like his
looks at all. Ho was smooth spoken enough,
too, but his eyes were vicious, and I felt sure
wo should have trouble. lie said the ship
was quite ready for sea, and as soon as I was
able we would sail. Not to make farther de J
tention, I. was carried on board in a cot, and
we hauled out of dock on the next tide.. In
the cabin I found another cot, beside which a
young lady was sitting with a fan, while Cap
tain Darcy was busy preparing the state
rooms. . I then learned that our cabin passen
gers were an old man named, Archer and his
grand-daughter Jennie.
Poor old Mr. Archer! He was far too ill to
undertake such a voyage, but he insisted on
going with the ship, feeling sure he should re
cover when the cool Atlantic breeze began to
blow.. Well, the first Sunday at sea wo bur
ied him.
: Little Jennie Archer was left entirely alone,
without a friend in the world, save an aunt
in Brooklyn to whom she was going. The
good, strong-hearted girl bore up bravely in
that sorrowful time, and oven in her deepest
grief found opportunity to render mo a thou
sand kind- services. When I first began to
crawl out into-the cabin I noticed Captain
Darcy’s evil eye often wandering towards her ;
with a .peculiar expression that alarmed mo. j
I was troubled and didn’t know what to do.
I could not say anything to Jennie, and, un-1
able to stand alone,-I could not in any way
protect her. In this difficulty Loftus canie to
my aid. Ho would guard the lone girl better
than I, and his dislike to Captain Darcy was
stronger even than mine. ■ .
And so I contrived that Jennie and Loftus
should become great friends. She was the
kindest and gentlest little soul that ever
lived, and the dog learned to love her more
than he over did another human being. Lof
ty never had a mistress, the M;ikevoke was
his mistress, and he clung to the ship through
all her changes, crew,, officers, and owners.
But to Jennie he seemed to attach himself as
dogs, usually do to their owners, or oven more
closely. Afterfairly, und rstandingthat she
must be watched, arid protected, he hardly
I left her an hour in the day, and slept before
her door at night.
By the time.l was able to go about a little
—and out on deck when the sun was not
too warm—Tcnnie Archer had quite won my
heart ends! was much hurt to find that she
grew more reserved as health returned to me;
the little womanly ministrations, which had
been so grateful, were graduiily discontinued.
Yet weovere very friendly, and being the only
idlers in the after part of the ship, we were
with each other a great deal. Curbing plear
sant evenings,,on deck and morning readings
in the cabin wei-e the happiest hours: I. had
ioyor.known.;,. But I .did not believe that, I
was making any progress in her affections
—that is, I did not think that she would over
care for me ns I did for Her. I was pleased
to see, however,,that the captain’s attempts
to be agreeable were quietly but decidedly re
pulsed. He saw it, ton, after a while, and
his hateful disposition thereafter began to
show itself. He persecuted poor Jennie with
out mercy whenever be could find an opportu
nity, and though Loftus and I were seldom off
duty, he yet contrived to.muke her suffer from
his spite in a thousand ways. Her simple
dignity and unswerving faith in herself du
ring these trials made me love her very dear
ly. Sihe never complained to mo at all, not
even when 1 found her, tine time, weeping,
heartbroken, and frightened, with little bits
of a note from him scattered .over the floor.
. Captain Darcv made no secret of his rage
andvengeful temper; he.seemed to consider
that ho owed defeat to me, and hated mo ac
cordingly. “Yon thinkyourselfd-— d smart,”
ho would say; hut I’ll show you I’m not the
man to he baulked by any such whelps as
you and thatdog. Yon-may do your’d—-—rest,
,but I’ll master her yet, and then I.will settle
’with t/oa, young man.”
didn’t mind his threats much, knowing
him to be cowardly. like other mean souls;
but I kept closer watch thanever overJennio,
and fed Loftus with my own hand, to which
care I think he owes his life.
On the thirty-fifth day out wo were off the
banks, and about noon 1 went up with cap
tain Darcy to take the sun. Lofty assisted
in the observation, as he always did with the
utmost gravity, and Miss Areher added .her
smile to the brightness of the hour, happy
—-thought I—to know our voyage was so
nearly done. While workitig up my calcula
tions I noticed the captain hastily descending
the. cabin gangway 1 thought it odd he did no"t
wait for the result; and directly I was f.irth
or surprised to find that Loftus had also dis-
I didri’t think much about it all
though. . t was alone with Tier for, perhaps,
the last time, and I lingered a good while be
fore going below to make my entry in the log.
It seemed to mo that she had never looked so
kindly upon me as then, and I came very
near telling her how dearly t had learned to
prize her favor, and asking that it might be
mine forever. But I felt as though that
would bo taking a certain advantage of her
needing a protector, and, in some sort presum
ing upon the claim I might bo supposed to
have—so the words which trembled on mV
tongue wore not spoken,
they had been.
Entering the cabin at last, wo wore star
tled by sounds of-strife, evident' struggling,
fierce growls and a storm of curses. For the
first time Jennie’s courage gave way; yet,
even then, she seemed more hurt than afraid
as she leaned against mo, sobbing, . “ Oh,
Heaven I he’s in my room !” ’
And so indeed it was. Crouched down in
one corner—n pitiable sight indeed—lav
Capt. Darcy with Lnftus’ tooth in his throat.
Ho still clutched the leather bolt which con
tained Jennie’s little fortune, and in a sailor’s
bag at his feet I found everything else of the
least value which she possessed in the world
.—overt the letters to her friends.
Lottos must have seen indignation and hor
ror in my face, for he immediately renewed
his attack with the utmost ferocity, and it was
only by Jennie’s best efforts he was prevent
ed from killing the wretch on the instont—ho
wouldn’t listen to me at all. As it was, Capt.
Darcy had to. be carried ashore when wo ar-
rived, and I remember they used the same
cot that I was brought, aboard in. During
the fever which followed he was delirious
part of tho time, and I had gathered from his
wild'talk that he had hoped, by reducing
Jennie to utter poverty, he could make her
dependent upon .him and submissive to his
Wilh '
Thanks to Loftus, the robber was caught in
the act, and I half envied the dog his reward
of fond gratitude. Ho accompanied her to
Brooklyn whoa her friends camo for hor, and
after that ho used to run over there every day
or two. As tho Captain's duties fell to my
hands I was unable to leave the ship for more
than a week, but as soon as I could get off I
made a visit to Jennie in her new home. A
very nice place it was, atvay out on Clinton
Avenue, and 1 found her delighted With it, as
well she might, be. Her friends, too, were
just the pleasantest sort of. people, and re
ceived me very kindly, L'.ut somehow I felt
disappointed and uncomfortable, though I
couldn't tell why for the life of mo. Jennie's
manner tome was the same it always had
been, except a little embarrassment
she was very friendly, and confiding as ever,
but yeti felt that in Clinton Avenue she was
very far away from me and from the life \vo
had lived together. Then, there was a good
looking.ymi ng chap at the house who played on
the piano and sang with Jennie, and who had
all those pleasant little accomplishments
which show cultivation and good-breeding.
Well, I liked him—l hadn't any spite at all
—but couldn’t help thinking, that 'longside
Ibis fine gentleman’s graces my. plain sailor
ways appeared to small advantage. So I did
I not enjoy my visit as I had anticipated, but
I went away ns early, ns possible, vexed and
j dissatisfied with niyself and everybody else.
, Captain Darcy got an idea into his unset-.
| tied mind that Jennie and I were going to
proceed against him for piracy on the high
seas, and though I assured him that neither
of. us had any . such intention, he became
frightened, and suddenly; disappeared from
his hotel before. I believed him able to go
about. I have never soon him or hoard erf
hint from that day to this. When I reported
his flight to. Sterling & Field, our owners,
they seemed rather glad than otherwise, and
much to-my surprise immediately offered the
command of theMakewake tome.
During the long days of convalescence,
when I could do hut little else, I had dreamed
again and again of the time when I should
be captain of ths Makewake, and, be in po
sition to offer Jennie Archer a home as well
as a heart. These had been visions of happi
ness to me; hut now, when they might he re
alined, their brightness faded fast—it seemed
highly improbable'.that I should over make
Jennie an offer of anything at all, and being
captain of a liner didn’t amount to much any
way. However; I accepted tho proposition I
gladly enough, and thereafter staid by the
ship more closely than ever.
L.oftus still continued his visits to Clinton
Avenue, being oyer there, indeed, at least
half the time, though ho,always came home
at night. My first experience there had not
been of a sort to encour age my going again
—so, when the Makewake was nearly ready
for sea, I sent by Lnftusn note to Jennie, ap
ologizing for not calling and sayinggood bye.
Of course I half hoped he would bring some
little reply from her—and so he .did. She
wished particularly to see me, and begged I
would come to her before I sailed.jrVell, I
was delighted 1 I spread all the light canvhs
X could carry, howled over there—gay its
a lark. Tho very first thing I .saw was Jen
nie walking around the grounds with that
good looking young fellow—talking so ear
nostly and . gazing _np.i6,.h)Rface in.sueh a
[charming way—it just took mo flat aback ;
I wished myself aboard ship again and out
side the Hook. I don’t know hut I might
have run away, only Doftiis attracted . the
children’s attention, and then ’twns too late.
, I had not been in the house ton minutes
when I- noticed an undcr-danding of some
sort between Jennie and the handsome young
gentleman. ' They hade mshlfafions and side
glances, and looked toward mo : —as Ithought
.—and, finally, it ended in his presenting to
me, on behalf of Miss Jennie Archer, a very
fine gold chronometer and chain. He deliver
ed it with it .little speech of which I hardly
heard a word. I was so confused. Passengers
aboard ship,often met in the cabin on coming
into port and gave thodfficerssomethingoroth
er to remember the voyage by, and I-had cer
tain phrases which were always used on such
occasions. I got them off now as well as I
could, and. sat down in a corner to think the
matter over.
I.don’t like people who are over sensitive,
easily grieved, and perpetually, feeling hurt.
I think it generally shows amoan disposition
but I do suppose that'was about’my state o
mind, This, thought I, is what she wantoi
meibr. This watch moans pnymoht'ih full
of all demands against her ; and she didn’t
want.’mo, even while going to Liverpool and
back, to have an idea ’that she was under any
obligation to me. A valuable gift settles the
old accounts, and loaves her free to open new
books. "What a fool I have been ! But I'll
not bo any more—l'll never trouble her
again,.that’s certain. .
Such bitter, gloomy reveries as those kept
coming all the afternoon. Meantime 1 hard
ly knew what to do with the watch. I car
ried it about in my hand a long time, and fi
nally shut iip the velvet case containing it,
and stuck it into my coat pocket. . I thanked
Jennie in an awkward, cold way, And felt an
ugly satisfaction in noticing how surprised
and grieved she looked. , I do not think, how
ever, that any one else perceived my spiteful
temper. I never had better success among
young folks than that afternoon* I determin
ed to show that I didn't care for any one par
ticularly, and tried my best to bo entertain
ing-and agreeable to all the girls in the house
—succeeding, ns I said, hotter than ever be
fore. But my heart—tlio whole time—was
filling more and more with sad, troubled emo
tions. Gradually pride and vexation gave
wny to the old tenderness for Jennie* and as
I thought of tlio long, weary hours I hnd to
pass, without a hope of her, in the very place
where wo had so lately been happy together,
I realized how Hear she had become to me
—how utterly desolate and lonely I was des
tined to bo. At last, I could keep up the ap
pearance of cheerfulness no longer, and de
termined to steal away—never to return.
I looked all abodVquietly, for Loftus, and
after some time found him in a lit le summer
house in the garden." ’Twins now quite dusk,
hut with him I recognized Jennie, her arms
about his heck,-her face hidden in his long
fleecy coat,' She started as I spoke, and would
have run away, but LJtiis was seated upon
her dross and would not move. “Tm sorry
to,part old friends," I said, “hut Loftus and
I must go now,, Miss Jennie. . I wanted to say
" Miss Archer," but douldn'ti’
"And are you going away angry, when we i
have always understood each other so well ?’*
How ashamed and repentant I felt, finding i
the poor girl had been crying I “No Indeed,
Jennie," I answered, “I am not angry now.
Forgive mo for hurting you by accepting your ;
present with snob‘bad grace—l was vexed
then but am nay any more. Believe me, I
dp understand, and X see; you could not have
told me in a more delicate way. Good-bye
Miss Jennie —do not feel troubled about mo :
I afterwards wished
I'll try never to think of. you again as I used
to." ,
"What have I done so dreadfully wrong
that vou should change so ? Only tho watch?
Is that ah ?
" Pray don't think you have-done wrong.
You havo always been fair and sincere,, with
me arid I have only myself to blame. I shall
esteem, and respect you as ever/'
“OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS BE Ri||t—BUT, RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.”
CARLISLE, PA, THURSDAY, OCTOBER. 10, 1861.
at ail. He walked from one to the other,
growling, troubled arid perplexed. When
Jennie began to ery .be seized my arm,
dragged mo across tliejfloor, and palled mo
down at her feet. ‘ f
The darling girl her arms around
my nook, nestled her'EpjMd'ful Load upon my
shoulder, arid Without tt word we did under
stand each other right well at last.
, We have oftemtried to persuade Loftus to
stay at homo and keep Jennie company while
I am away in the Mak'ownko, but he never
w-onld desert the ship, i Whenever we arrive
in New York, though, the instant we touch
the dock lie bounds tell his dear mis
tress her husband hna'cume home.— Harper’s
Weekly. " ' ~, ■
Perhaps the heat watermelon patch in Bucks
county is that of Mr. well, “ for the sake
of argument,” and to keep from hurting his
feelings,' we’ll call him,.Mr. Thingumbobs—
Mr. Thingumbob did not embark in that
branch of horticulture to which watermelons
belong, merely fbr tho fnu of the tiling. Ho
went into it to. make money, and ho has done
it. If Mr. Thingumbob lias a weakness for
anything in the world, it is for that species
of pocket furniture which, the preachers pi-
I ously denounce ns “ the Vile dross of earth,”
and the b’hoys style “ sponduliohs " and
“ Spizzcrmotum.'.’ If ;Mrj|Thinguinbob were
to suffer a watermelonbfothemarket value of
fifteen cents to fall from bis cart and wreck
itself against the pavemcljt, he wouldn’t get
■done feeling bad about the less within the
ensuing six weeks. In, short, Mr. Thingum
bob is the stingiest man you ever saw, and if
ho ever dies of a broken licart. it will be over
the loss of a shilling. You have often seen
such men, hav’nt you?
Last Saturday Mr. Thingumliob brought a
load bf watermelons to town, and as wo ga
zed into the cart whore they reposed in sul-’
leu grandeur upon their pullet of straw, we
remarked to; a oonsidorablbbumbor of spec
tators, and to the comm unlit at large, that
II they are indeed very fine’’ I —-a remark which,
wo are proud to perceive,/elicted the .cordial
though silent approbation gf everybody with
dn„tb& squi.4-
than finished the observation, when up conics
Blynks, and says to Mr. Thingumbob:
I “ Stranger, these melons .of yours are per
fect whales—l’d like to swindle you out of
' one of them." ...
“ Well,” said Mr. Thingumbob, “if yon
can swindle me out of one of them, you are
welcome toft.”
“Oh, I was merely joking.about.that,”said
Blynks, “ Butroally, I am very fond of water
melons, and can probably oat more of them |
than any six men you oversaw; it’sastonish
ing what a quantity it takes to do mo. How
many of those large ones there of yours do
you suppose I could eat: ” ,
“IVhy,” said Mr. Thingumbob, measuring
the size of Blynk's mouth with his eyes, and
casting them down till they rested at a point
near the lower extremity of his vest,- “,I don’t
suppose from your looks that you could oat
more than one.”
“One! why, great goodncssstrahger, what
are you talking about? I’ll tell you what I’ll
do—if you’ll furnish mo six of the best you’ve
got, and if I don’t eat them every one, I’ll
make you a present of the finest hat in town.”
Mr. Thingumbob looked, at Blynks with
both eyes wide open ; then took off his hat
and looked at that, and then clapping it on
his head and pressing it firmly, exclaimed:
“ If I don’t do it blow me.”
“ All right,” said Blynks, “hand out half
a dozen.”
Mr. Thingumbob began to hand out the
“ perfect whales," one. by,one, while Blynks
laid them down on the pavement with their
ends against the curbstone. .
“ Hold on,” exclaimed Mr. Thingumbob, as
ho rested the last one on the side of the wag
on-bed, ready to bo lifted off, “suppose you
should eat’orn all up, who’s to pay for ’em ?”
“ Nobody, of course,’! answered Blynks,
“in that case you lose; but if I fail to eat
them then I lose, and am to give you a ten
dollar lint."
“ Go ahead,” said Mr. Thingumbob, hand
in? down the sixth and last melon.
Blynks drew forth his jack-knife, and say
ing to the bystanders, as he seated himself on
the curh-stoUo, with his foot in the gutter,
'‘Gentlemen, 1 would like to invite you to
join mo, but circumstances over Which I have
no control, force mo to withhold the courtesy,”
he split the best looking melon in two, and
taking one-half of it oh his lap, Commenced
leisurely to eat it,'
“ Well,” said-ho, after having finished it,
rising and W>P)ng the blade of his knife with
tho tail of his onnt, “ that will about do me
for this time; I’ll lay that.other half away
till after dinner ; I’ll try another after sup
per, and I think by about Monday night or
Tuesday morning I will wipe out tho pile.”
“Hallo!” exclaimed Mr. Thingumbob,
springing to his feet in tho cart, “ that won’t
do —you wo got to finish them now.”
“ Finhh them now ? What the deuce do yon
mean by that? I hope youdon’t expect mo to
oat them all at once ?”
“Of course 1,d0,” said Mr. Thingumbob,
excitedly “ that’s what you said you would
do, and you’ve got to do it.”
“ Look here; old man, I bet you a new hat
that I could oat six of your watermelons, but
I didn’t tell you I would sit down in tho pub
lic street and make a confounded hog of my
self.”
• Than nay moforthoone you’ve out open,”
said Mr. 'lh ngumbob.
“ I shan’t do any such thing,” said Mr.
Blynks, “I am still willing to eat the bal
ance of the pile ; but if I do, I am going to
take my time for it."
“ I seo now what you’ve bodn after all tho
time—youjust wanted toswindlo mo out of a
watermelon.”
“And, you think I've done it, too, don’t
you?” • ■ '
“Yea, I’ll bo'clarncdirt don’tT'Trutyou’vy
got to pay for it, or there will be aflght right
“ Payj.you for it ?—-bo hanged 1 Why, didn’t
you tear mo at the start, that if X, could
swindle, you.put of one X would bo welcome
to “TV>II—yes—X b«Ii«T9 I did," laid Mr.
“>Wo may be friebds, thou 1 You will visit
me when you return ?”
“ No, no, Jennie, : tl-could not do that. If
you ever need mei*r-Blmn be only too happy
to serve you; but, otherwise I hope this will
be our last meetingiiftho world. After ail you
have been to me, ond'all I have dreamed you
might be, I could 1 not bear toosce you happy
with another, even though bo is more worthy
of you.” ' ;r . 1
Sho turned away, covering her face with
her dear little bands,.’sobbing as if her heart
would break :, “ Oh, mother, what shall I
do! what shall I do 1” -,
I had been standing at tho doorof the sum
mer-house, much farther away from Jennie
than I used to be ih;<mr talks aboard the
Makewake, aud Lofty qid.not understand it
HOW BIYSK’S WON THE WJTEItfIELO;
Thingumbob, shoving his hat aside and
scratching his head, “but you told me you
were only joking." ,
“ And 1 toll you so now. I’ve been jok
ing along, and if you can't see the point of
the joke by this time, you are igjgreater eight
bigger fool than I took you to be.”
■ Mr; Thingumbob put his watermelons back
into the cart In silence, and almost in tears,
kicked the unfinished half into the gutter,
and mounting his vehicle, drove slowly across
the square.
About half an hour after, wb saw him driv
ing alone, crying at the lop of his voice!
“Heb-r-b’s them watermelons 1"
A Touching Incident.
What parent on rending the annexed ex
tract, can fail to reflect on the lesson it sug
gests? How important that when the parent
has departed, the example left behind may be
such as the child may be thankful for. To
watch for and train the budding thoughts of
an artless child is one of the noblest offices
that father or mother can fill. Truoly it has
been said that “out of the mouths of babeis
and sucklings” strcnth lias been ordained.
What could give greater strength to the wid
owed heart, than such a scene with her little
daughter.
She knelt at the accustomed hour to thank
God for the mercies of the day, and pray for
his care during the coming night; then as u
sual came the earnest “God bless dear mother”
—but the prayer was stilled, the little hand
Unclasped, ond-a look of agony and wonder
met the mother’s eye ns the words of hopeful
sorrow burst from the kneeling child: “I can
not pray for father any morel” Since her lit
tle lips had been able to form the dear name,
she prayed for a blessing upon it; it had fol
lowed close after mother’s name, fur he had
said that must come first, and .now to say the
familiar prayer, and • leave her father out.
No wonder the pew-thought seemed too nuich
for the childish mind to receive.
I waited some moments that she might con
quer her emotion, and then urged her to go
on. Her pleading eyes mot mine, and with a
voice that faltered-almost too much for utter
ance,.she said.:
“Oh mother, I cannot leave him all out, let
me say “thank God that I had a dear father
once! so I coin still goon and keep him,in my
prayers.”
And so she always docs, and my
stricken heart learned-a lesson from the lov
ing ingenuity of ray child. Remember to
thank'God foP’the mercies of the past, as well
as the blessings of the future.
Spirited Cav.u.rv Horses.—A writer who
professes to know the points of a good “war
horse” thus speaks of these aiiiinals: '
“ Dull, sluggish horses can never bp trained
to the point requisite for an efficient cavalry
horse. Almost as much depends, in a suc
cessful charge of cavalry, on the horses as on
the man. Indeed it may be doubted wether
■aw recruits mounted on well, drilled, horses
would hot lie moiV sei'vici?abl6 than veteran
troops mounted on clumsy, “low-spirited” an-'
imals. At the hattlc of the pyramids the hor
ses of Muzad Bey’s cavalry charged, repeated
ly in squadrons after their riders were killed.
So did the .French horses at Waterloo on the
English, under the same .circumstances.'
And after the Marquis Humana was' com
pelled to leave his horses on the shores of Den
mark, after tho embarkation of the troops for
Spain, we all remember, how they formed
themselves into two hostile armies, ns the
ships of their late masters faded in the dis
tance, arid charged upon each other with such
fury that the earth shoo'k, for miles around,
and the terrified inhabitants of the country
fled panic stricken to their horses. So terri
ble was the slaughter of those find Andalusi
an horses, that out of a body of 10,000, but a
few hundred remained alive
A Krss in tue Dark.—The editor of the
Cincinnati Nonpareil, recently had occasion
to. pay a visit to Dayton in the oars. lie says
ho noticed a gentleman and a lady seated in
close juxtaposition, and judging from their
conduct, one-would imagine they wore exceed
iy intimate. In front of the comfortable pair
sat, two gentlemen, editors of the two German
papers in this city. When near Dayton the
train passed through a long dark bridge. —
Amidst the thundering and rattling of the
cars, a very suspicious concussion was heard
by those nearest the lady and gentleman al
luded to. As we.emerged into the daylight
one of the German editors slowly drawing
his spectacles down over his nose, exclaimed,'
“ Yell, 1 links dat ish a tam pad pridge, 7
hears him crack one, two, three, four times!"
The lady drew down her veil, and for the
remainder of the trip the pair looked mute
and quiet.
HussiVx Wife Show.— The wife show is
now the last lingering relic of What was once
a popular national custom. Here the sons
and daughters of tradesmen wore wont to as
semble to select their partners for life. The
girls would come decked out in all the valun
ulo ornaments the family could raise, and
sometimes carry in their hands a bunch of
silver teaspoons, or playing gracefully wi :h a
largo silver ladle as it Were a fan; while the
young men, also appearing to the best advan
tage, would stroll by them; and, on seeing
any young lady who particularly struck their
fancy, would politely inquire about her dower
from the parents, who invariably accompa
nied the blushing damsels. The custom so
far exists to the present day, that had I been
matrimonially disposed, I might have selected
a. wife without even the trouble of advertising,
to say nothing of saving the time which the
more conventional customs of my native land
doomed requisite for a courtship.
Didm’t AA'ant to be a Widow-. — A nmn in
La Croaso, AViaconsin, a few das ago, rushed
in tho rivor, swearing that ho would drown
himself. AVlion ho had waded into thodopth
of his waist, his wife seized him by tho hair,
and then, as a local editor describes it, she
“led him back till they reached a place where
the water was about two foot deep ; where she
pulled him over backwards, soused him un
der, and pulled his head up again. ‘Drown
yourself—(down he went)—leave roe to fath
er the brats I— (another plunge)—get drunk I
—(another souse)—and start for the river!—
(another dip)—-Dll him ye to leave me a wid
ow, and all the men at tho war 1 ’ After
souseing him to her heart's content, she led
him into the house and closed the door.
(C7”A cynical individual on reading a pa
thetic story in one of tho papers, noted in his
memorandum book as follows: Somebody,
whistled, teacher calls up big boy on suspic
ion. Big boy comes up and holds out his
handrsullen-and-iavage:-—Noblo“little~boy
comes manfully forward and says “ It was I
whistled, sir,” at tho same time extending
his hand. Teacher simmers down and lets
’em both off. (Mom. —Noble little buy thought
teacher would not lick him if he told the
truth, but knew big boy would lick him if he
didn’t.)
A Qceer Story, The study of Words.
The Philadelphia North American says, at One cannot claim to have power over lan
the head of a file of men on their way from guago who is unacquainted with words. Hi«
New York to Washington,-through this city, I acquaintance ought to bo larger than he can
we encountered a man who has probably seen I gain from the best dictionaries. This is es
as much of real life as any other person liv- j sential, as is also a wide knowledge of books
ing, Louis Napoleon alone excepted, Cap- in general, and of the use of words that may
tain B. ton years ago was a log cutter or wood !be understood by general reading. Yet even
chopper in the Clearfield pineries, working in this knowledge is meagre. It is like the ao
tho employ of ex Govenor Bigler. He lived quaintance one has with the faces ho often
in a cabin entirely alone, miles away from meets in the streets, while the criticism of the
any settler, and where the silence oft lie ft rest passions, tastes, and proclivities of each man
was broken by no other sounds than the strokes is somewhat like the knowledge of indiyidu
of his axe or the baying of his dbg when up- al words which every one ought to possess who
on the track of a deer. He was bitten, one pretends to write well in his own language,
day in mid-summer, by a monstrous rattle- There is, indeed, no bettor method of com
smiko, hut never losing his presence of mind, ing to a knowledge of words than by studying
he dug but the wound with his hunting knife, them in many books. Words are marvelously
and pounding into powder his blackened to- like men. They are affeetd by oircumetan
bncco pipe he moistened it with saliva and ces, they possess more or less individuality as
hound it upon the wound. 'The poison Was men do; they have moods, are subject to ohan
drawn to the surface by the application, and- ges, ns men often are; they belong to many
excepting a rigidity of limb, which still re- families, and those to different notions, each'
mains, he experienced no. further ill effects of which possesses its peculiarities,
from the deadly bite. t This simile I would use at present more OS
. On one of his few visits to the town of Clear an introduction to the matter which follows,,
field, for a supply of tobacco and whisky, he than for any deeper purpose that the reader
chanced to save from drowning the child of a might attribute to me. I appeal to this rcaem
wealthy citizen, who rewarded him by a pres- bianco to bespeak a favorable reception by
ent of three hundred dollars.' The man never him, of tbemetbod of. free quotation I intend
returned to bis cabin, but receiving the wa- to employ, although at Some time, the courso
ges due to him be set but for Philadelphia, I take may approve the doctrine more closely,
where he engaged a teacher, and in a brief Books are accustomed to teach that we must
period taught himself to read. Tic was preach- leiirn the origin, nest the. etymology, and nf
ing shortly after this, hut finding himself pur- torwards the Use of words we .study. But’
suing a mistaken vocation he blossomed out Kichardsou’s Dictionary will supply each of
as a cancer doctor, in, which capacity ho trnv- these facts at too easy rate. It is altogether
oiled over the entire west and south, return- too ready to be sought for any other purpose
ing to Now York with about three thousand than reference, yet I question wether a better
| dollars. Ho married a wealthy widow in medium is at hand for followlng.qut just tha :
New York,’who died a month after her mar- courso that books indicate. "...-A
ringe, leaving him:heir to every dollar. He When these material have been winnowed
a second venture six months afterward, till nought appears to him except chaff, :a wide
bis wife eloping at the end of the honeymoon field yet remains for the ardor of and onerget
with a native of Hamburg returning with a i« laborer. He may strike out boldly; sure,
pile to his own city. Disgusted with the sex though he only gleans, of gathering not senu
ho eschewed woman’s society, and went to tily, where those who were bolder apdstrong
speculating in patent rights, and with a sort or than he, have reaped bountifully,
of success that in a. year cleaned him out of, . This, yet new ground for future .discover
the last dollar. lie secured a position upon ies, is the range of English classics, ton sol
the police force of New York, and in the dnm assigned an excellent position by those
course of his duty canie upon a discharged who would bo called scholars, and sometimes
convict. The convict gave him certain infer- left entirely out.of view by men from whom
mation, the truth of Which ho could not doubt, we ought to expect broad scope of thought.
A heavy robbery had been committed on the It is not inaccessible. Chaucer, Shnkspearo,
continent; The convict had been.engaged in ’Milton, Jeremy Taylor, four representative
it, and know where the plunder was still se- authors, four favorite writers, may be had at
creted. Tho rover purchased the secret from the book-stores, or ordered from metropolitan
the fellow, went to Europe, disclosed it’to the publishers, at a moderate . pecuniary cost,
authorities, and was made (lie possessor of a No one knows who Ims not already proved it,
reward amounting to about SBOOO. how much that is worth learning of words
.With tins money he returned to New York r| my be gained in an observation reading of
and then to P, iladclphin. At tho Girard these books. • They do know that study them,
House one night he met a Texan, who won how often in seeking for the meaning of a.
from him four, thousand dollars at a single word by its use, exquisite beauties of thought,
sitting. The society of the gambler charmed concealed before, are all at once exposed to
him, and ho went, with hiin to Galveston, tS- eight. .
king the-remainder of his capital with him. As a chid would lead its playmate through
•He went upon a.ranche, and was engaged in the fields in pursuit of tho flowers he bad dis
alj.eep grazing, with Hon. Amns.KondaU as a covered, so,would one better qualified by his
I ncair peighlijir..;...Secession Awoke out atylaat, jintefest-than hie Bxperienoein the capacity of
and.our rover was compelled to fly hy night guide, lead thee gentle render, where strong
Ito Galveston, where he got upon a vessel men have before trodden, that he loves to con*
bound for Cuba without any other possessions template in the flowery fields of literature,
than the clothes upon his person." He was Chaucer is an bid poet. He is the father of
twice wrecked in returning to New York, English poetry, His stylo is vigorous, sim
where he arrived a mere bundle of skin and I pie, powerful, yet adorned; with true poetic
bones, .\ 4 I grace. Arid it is so delicately shadowed with-
Aftor alternate wealth and poverty, sfhrva- in tho’ obscurity of an incident dialect that
tion and luxuriousnesa, nakedness and dandy- the curiosity of the reader is added to his de
ism, he at length turns up as an officer in a light in the contemplation of tho poet’s ima-
I military company, asking only to give h!s life P ca - Geoffrey Chaucer lived four hundred
1 for the cause of liberty Ho loaves in Texas years ago, hi England. His history is just a
I a fine rancho. His sheep, he supposes, have little obscure, his character little known. But
lorigsiiice been’confiscated to’feed tliercbelar- bis works have existed from the days’of man
my. For his real estate ho lias no fears. Its' lisoripts through tlireoccnturiscsoftypography
confiscation, when United States laws return and they are fresh and beautiful to-day,
in force; xvill again be enforced, in Texas, as
well as in Secessiain general, he firmly be
lieves. Such men as he are the best possible
soldiers. They not only avenge the wrongs of
tho North, but are fighting for their own prop
erty. The more wo have of them the better,
A Good One.—As a representative of the
“fluid sod” was helping Mr. Blank to get a
safe in his office one day, and not being ac
quainted with the article, inquired what }t
was, for ?
■ “To prevent papers and other articles
which are placed in it from being burnt in
case of fire,” said B.
“An’ ailro will nothing ivir burn that is
put in that iron thVunk ?”
“ No.“
“ Well, thin, yer honor, ye’d bettor bo af
ther getting into that same when you die."
Mr. Blank told him to open the windows
and let the Cool air in.
Ei.oq&enCe.— A negroorntor thus concludes
an account of the death of a colored brother:
"Do last word dat lio was hoard to say, do
last word ho was known to speak, do last
word ho was noticed to utter, do last word he
ehor pronounced, do last syllable, ho heahed,
do last idoa ho ober ejaculated ; yes. my brod
ron, do berry last word ho was known to
breavo forth, sound or articulate, was ‘Glo-
ry
Suoli amplified perorations are sometimes
to bc-heard from orators of renown.
Spurgeon.— The following anecdote is told
of Spurgeon : An elderly minister called up
on him congratulating him upon his success,
and mildly rebuking him for his eccentrici
ties. Mr. Spurgeon took til roe p’enco out of
his pocket, and said I “ Dr. B.,.the other day
I was so annoyed by an organ-grinder that I
gave the man three pence to go away. Now.
will you take the same sum, or shall 1 make
it six-pence? ”
!C7“John Brown, jr„ son of the loader at
Harper’s Ferry, is successfully canvassing the
region of Titusville, Pa., for, picked riflemen. .
Ho travels In gray shirt and trowsors, with
largo revolver and howio knife protruding
from his pockets. lie is a largo, muscular
man, and is supposed to bo a man of muscle,
with desperate resolves, anxious to avenge
the death of his father.
(£7* A Zouave having his hair cropped close
to his skin, had just taken his sent and thrown
off his hat, showing a skull suggestive of n
whitewood scrubbing brush with most of the
bristles worn off.
“ Suppose you iron tod to bother that Zou
ave completely,” said a lady to her compan
ion, “would you know how to doit?”
“ Not especially, answered her escort. '
“Well, I’ll tell you,” said the bright-eyed
vixen, “ask him for a lock of his hair."
.o*At an evening party lately, a young
man from England was boasting of the pedi
gree, wealth and importance of his ancestors.
‘‘Oh yes,” Baid H., ‘‘yoUriatlicr and mine
spent part of their lives together.”
“ Where was that?” sharply replied the
other.
“In the Bloomingdalo poor house,” was the
stinging reply.
CT - It is a torture to enemies. to return
their injuries with kindness.
A father came home from his business at
an early evening, and took his iittlegirl upot)
his knee. After, a few drovd-like caresses,
she crept to his bosom and fell asleep. He
carried himself to her chamber, and said,
“ Nellie would not like to go to bed and say
her prayers.*’ Half opening her large blue
eyes, the dreamily articulated, ‘ -
“Now 1 lay hie down to sleep,
1 pray the Lord—’’
then adding in a sweet murmer, “ He knows
the rest,” she sank on her pillow, in His
watchful cure who “givoth his beloved
sleep.”
Precocious; —ln one of bur borough schools
not long ago, a member of the committee
asked the niombers of a class which was un
der examination :
“What was the cause of the saltncss of the
ocean ?”
Soon one little girl raised her hand, flushed
with the discovery which had flashed upon
her mind.
‘You may toll,” said the committee man,
“Salt fish, sir,” said the pupil.
The committee man immediately proceeded
to the next class.
No SnbPEit Eater. —“ Reflect, my breth
ren," exhorted a chaplain, .‘‘ that whosoever
falls this day in battle, sups to-night in Para
dise.” The fight began, the ranks wavered,
the chaplain took to his heels, when a soldier
reproachfully j-oferred him to the promised
supper in Paradise. ‘‘ True,, my son, true,”
said the chaplain, “ but I never eat supper.”
O' Two gentlemen noted for (ficirTjbnd*
ness of exaggeration, were discussing- the
fare at the different hotels. One observed
that nt his hotel he had tea so strong that it
was necessaryto confine it in an iron vessel,
“At mine,” said the other, “it was so weak
it had no strength to run out of the tosspot.”
I A school-boy having good-naturedly helped
(another in a difficult cyphering lesson, was
I angrily questioned by the Dominie.
“ Why did you work this lesson?”
“ To Ussen his work,” replied the young
ster.
“ I wish that boy belonged to me,” said old
Roger.
“ What would you do with him? ”
“ I’d p-p-’pnirit his funeral for d-day after
to-morrow, and I’d s-s-seo that he was ready.”
Don’t you think I would make an ex
cellent soldier ? ” said a timid gentleman to
his wife.
“ Tes, indeed, an admirable yrauny-dear.”
l£7“Qnod faith is the richest exchequer of
Governments', for the more it is drawn upon,
the firmer it is, and its resources increase
with its payments;
An exchange gives the substance of the
verdict of a recent coroners jury on a man
who had died in a state of inebriation;—
-‘■-Death-from - hnngmgnrnnnd'aTuarshop;” '
OC7” An advertisement in a newspaper is
tike a circle in the water, continually spread
ing itself. Throw in yourrocks and try’it.
OIT* Wo rather think that the most reluc
tant slave to tu’ee that we ever saw was a poor
fellow who had his fingers in one.
NO. 18. ‘