American volunteer. (Carlisle [Pa.]) 1814-1909, May 18, 1865, Image 1

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    VOL. 61.
AMERICAN VOLUNTEER.
rVBUSDBD EVERY THURSDAY MORNINCt-BY
IOIIK B. BRATTON.
■T-JS H M S
, SußSciuPTioif.-r-Two Dollars ,if paid within thq
I year ; and Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid
> within the year. These terms will he rigidly-ad
hered to in ?vory instance. ' No subscription dls
continued until all’ arrearages are paid unless at
the option of the Editor. > - 1 >’
1 Advertisements—‘Accompanied by the oasr, and
'not exceeding ono square# will .bo inserted throe
; tunes for $2.00, and twenty-five cents for each,
additional insertion. Those of a greater length in
'proportion. ’' , ,
Job-Printing—Suoli ns Hand-bills, Posting-bills
Blanks, 1 Labels, &c v &c.»-executed with
aocruraoy and at tho shortest notice.
poetical.
a MAnprii.
‘The Spring is hero; the sweet May blooms,
Like snow- flakes, whiten all, the air ;
■ X smell the delicate perfumes
Of apricot and pear.
I wander down the garden slopes,".
And take the path that nearest loads
To whore,the blind assurance gropes
•My buried sWro,of seeds.
Nature fails mo not! She, keeps
, ~ Her promises saorod as of old ;
. Sco.wQcra bor glad fulfillment peeps
'•Up through the 'softened mould !
Pansies and pinks and daffodils—'■
A bravo array of bursting green ;
Prophetic of tho bloom that fills
The.summer days with sheen.
A handful of unsightly flood—-
That was the simple gift I brought,’ «
And, 10, in answer to tho deed*
•A miracle is wrought I
ON THE PROSPECTS OF PEACE.
.E’en now, from half the threaten'd horrors freed,
See from our shores the 'leasing sails recede ;
See the pr.oud flags.that,“to*tbo wind unfurl'd,
Waved in' proud ’triniripb ■‘round -a vanquish'd
world,
inglorious fly j* and qeo thoirbaggarQ crow,
Despair, shame, rage and Infamy .pursue.
’Hail.hoavon-borh peace; tby grateful 'blessings
pour ' -
'On this glad land, and round tho peopled tfhoro - ;
Thino are tho joys that gild tho happy scone,
Wlthi tboo gay pleasure frolics over tho plain, .
And. smiling plenty loads the prosperous train.
Thou, 0 blest land, with genius unoonfm’d,.- : ■
With, polished manners and tho-.iliuminod' mind,
Thy future race on- daring winga shall soar; •
Each scionco trace and ail the arts explore,
'Till' bright religion beckoning fotho Shies,
Shall bid thy sons to endless glory rise. ,
< BtellaiiEOim
HOff. GODFREY CHOSE HIS WIFE.
‘. Godfrey, old boy,’ said Henry Clayton, as
he tilted book his chair and pot bis feet on
■the rriantle-pieoo,. ‘ when is the wedding to
■be ?’
‘ Whose jrodding ?’
‘ Miss liiuirti Somers, or Jenny, which is
it?’
‘ I dori’t know, I’m sure.’
‘ Now don’t ~bO mysterious, Godfrey, you
are n constant visitor, ind all Our sex are
talking about.the match. Don’t pretend you
have not selected one of the sisters.’,.
‘How dp yon know whether either of-them,
Will have me ?’ " , ' r
1 Dop’t bo absurd, old boy. Dome, be trank,
Which is the. favorite sister.?’. \ * •
Well, frankly.,then, I have, visited ■ the;
family lor covoral tponths, ns you know, but
J.'oannot decide. Laura is certainly the hand
, sbmeat, with her flashing black eyes and
queenly mariner ; but Jenny sterns,' although
the youngest, to bo the most womanly and
useful of the two. Yet I'cannot be sure, of
that. My entrance ie the signal for oprdiol
welcome.and smiles, and let me call at what
! -hour I will they are always dressed, and ap
parently disengaged. To be sure, I always,
■ in the morning, have to wait before Laura is
' yisiblri.l ; ... i ' . i
•.pop in unexpectedly, and notice the in
ternal economy.’ . ■ i v ...
‘ How can 1? ~ A card at the door will pat
' the lady on.her guard, or,even the notice of
!' h gefftlemari, visitor.’, ■■" ,
‘Go therb in disguise. As a washerwoman
for instance? ’ . . , ?
-Good I I will.’ , ' . ,
■ ■‘ Go there as a washerwoman ? onqd Ulay
exactly; tu t I will obtain adruitliihoe
'"id a morning’s privacy.’ :•
. f Well, let ipo know.the result.'
iaura and Jenby were the children of.
' widower, who, although.in moderate oirouH)-
etiinoeß, moved in fashionable sooi|ty. At
the end of niy short,sketch he was about to
; giitiply the lamented Mrs. Sfimers’ place after
pearly ton years’ mourning, and, although a
kind Pud indulgent’parent, hud no objection
-to his-daughters’ marriage, and, indeed, had
’t,old thorn so; ' Laura, whose high spirit re
: sonted the probable supremacy of a step-mo
’ ther, tad already .selected Godfrey Horton as.
Bor hilsband; and Jenny, who was. younger
and gentlor in‘spirit, had tried to conquer a
carefully conceived preference tor tbe same
nerson. All his attentions were ascribed by
her as .d brotherly regard, though every, act
' of kindness and courtesy touched her to the.
it was the.morning after a-large. ball, and
the sisters, were in the breakfast room togo-
Laura, with her glossy black hair brushed
. negligently off, her face, with the rough tum
bled' braids ofJaat evening’s coiffure gathered
'jbokely. in a comb, wearing a spiled wrapper,
torn stockings, and presenting rather an
' alarming contest to the. brilliant ball-room
belle, was loungingon'tftspfp. Jenny, in a
neat morning dress,;with a large gingham
apron and Saif smoothly blushed into a pret
ty knot, was washing-the breakfast dishes.
There is an old roan at the door with
some artihoial flowers,’ said the servant, op
‘‘ ening the dining room door, ‘ will you see
Kim?' •' i .
*,No,' said. Jenny. ;
‘ Yes,’ cried Laura. ,
Thekorvant descended to obey the last or
der.. ■ , 1
/ '^o*
la .a few niinutea the old man catered the
room:
; pe was - pdoHy blfld with a coarse blue
cloak, Hftrhich was maoh too large for him, his
hair, was white, and he wore a very long
board add moustache of the'same snowy hue.
Making a very low bow, he placed the great
large basket oa the table.and began to show
his flowers.
1 * I have a bunch of blue flowers here,* said
ho, taking them from the basket/ ‘ that will
just suit your, golden-hair, Mias/ and.heheld
them up to Jenny. .
* ,‘lt.was niy sister'whio wished to look at
youi\flpvrers/ said she, quietly.'. 0
‘ Yes, bring them here/ was Laura’s impe*
’ .
.-The old man's eyes followed Jenny, as she
Wished, wiped, and put. away! the dishes,
swept the room and dusted it,, and then sat
down beside Laura, who was still looking
oyeytho flowers. - . . : •
. ‘ See, Jenny, this, scarlet bunch. ..VflU -it
not be lovely, with-a few dark leaves,-io.wepr
with a,dow silk/ . *’
1 But ypu cannot afford it jusf now/ whis
pered Jenny. ’
1 Yes I can. Father gave me some money
yesterday/ said the extravagant housekeeper.
‘ To pay the last dry goods' bill/
* "Well, I can'have that carried to my pri
vate account/.
‘ Oh 1 Laura, Ihate to hoar you talk so of
that private account. It seems so much like
cheating father.' ...
‘ Nonsense 1 it wifi stand till I, get mar
ried, then I can easily save it out of my
housekeeping money,' : -
‘ I shouldn't wish to .marry in debt,’said
Jonnyl . . i 1
The pedlar looked at the slater.
; You had better take this bunch of blue
flowers, Miss,’ said be to Jenny, ‘ if it ain't
convenient to pay for it just now, I will call
again,'
. ‘ No’, I shall .not take them.’ ,
‘ They are very becoming, Miss; Look iff
tho glass.’ ■ • • .. '
‘I wish my hair was light,’,.said Laura,—
I’d like to wear blue. Godfrey Horton said
last night that forget-me-nots were bis favor
ite flowers-' : . ■ 1 •
Jenny colored, and .planing' the liutroh in,
the basket, said, “ Come; Laura,; decide. You
aro keeping one waiting whose time is proba
bly valuable, ’ and then passing a chair, she
added, ‘ be seated, sir, you must bo tired.'
.‘ I am tired, indeed,’ was the reply.
‘ I will take that, scarlet hunch, also
those red camelids, and this white cluster,'
said Laura. " . ,
‘ But, sister, yon can’t afford iti,’
‘ Yes l oan ; Godfrey Horton is rich.’
■ The old man bit his lip.
‘ Think,’ said Jenny, in an'undortofie, 1 if
you love him, how much it will grieve him if
ho should discover this deceit.’
■ '.‘Nonsense.! Well, I’ll toll you'bow to ss
medy it. Lend mo some money out of-the
housekeeping funds ?’ *
‘ Laura, steal from father.!,
, ‘ There,-don’t preach.’ ;
1 Miss-Jenny,’.-said a servant, entering at
that moment, '• tho dinner has dome.'
Jenny..left tire room, and Laura.still turned
over the gay ■flou’ers, while, the old. tnaa poin
ted out their various beauties; his eyes in the
meantime, \<ere running over,the late disor
dered hair, shabby dress and lazy position,
whilehementally contrasted her with Jenny.
‘ Not decided yet.?’ said . Jenny, after a
short absence.
* No. Come here/
‘I can't., father has sent home.a calf's
bead'and I -am -olfraid to truat it entirely, to
Margaret ; ’I must superintend the dinner,
make a 'pudding, and the pnrlor must bo
dusted, aqd there is my white mull to bo:fin
iehed/' ‘ ‘
‘Before I'd bo thedrudge that you are/
cried .Laura. . .
‘ Drudge 1 nonsense I I have time, for en
jonment, and father cannot have a comforta
ble house if some one does not. superintend,
these, things. When I marry you may do it/
she laughed merrily. ■;
* As if 1 should, not marry first I' said Lau
ra. . * There, I have chosen all that I. want/
1 Shall I call again for the money V asked
the old pedlar. *1 shall be happy to add the
Misses Somers’ on .my list of customers/
* Ye6&oaU Laura., .
j So pedlar-;'fcb>k,,iip the basket, and
walked home, threw aside’ the wig. beard,
■ and disguise’, arid .wrote ah avowal of his
heart and hand to Miss Jetiny Somers, which’
was accepted.
Laura Somers had two sources of profound
speculation. One was, ‘ why Godfrey Horton
proposed to Jenny instead of herself?' Ihe
other, ‘ I wonder why the old mao never
called to be paid for those exquisite flowers V
Yu ask.me,,,to. describe l can't dew.
It.well. .It hanirgdrany pedigree, it iz like
ttielwmd,' it bloweth when and .where i>liBt
,eth. '.No man can be witty:when .he. wants,
to, ehny more fchanbe ken 4)0 hungry\when,
he wants to, it, pummeth to him as-luv duz,
he oan't tell how nor wHi. •• , .
Wit is wisdom at pi iy, w.hile humor is on
ly goodaiat.u re on a; frolic.
t Wit is ‘ like’great strength-A dangerous
onq. •, .
'Eherq is.pothibg that seems thw suit.a wo
map’?, liarte so milch as jewelry., .
God-save the,-pbools I.,’a-ud dank lot,thorn
tup out, for if it wasn’t for,, them wise then
ooiildplt git a, livep. v. . • .' - J( . > .
■Some peupfle’s branea are lokated in their
beds.- , ■ ■ ■ -
We are told that there .wasn’t eopything
tnado in vain, but I have thought that all the
time spenfiu manufacturing striped'snniks
and muskeetera was wasted. ‘
t ; Xf.thare waz nuthin but truth in this world,
a phool wild Stan just.as good a, chance ;aa a
wise niari. , • ' ■ „
- True poll tonoas consists in bein'very anxua
about nothing. , , „ ;
Bobbers come just like ram, they fall on
the just and unjust. ; ■ .
If a man is as wire as a sarpent, lie can
afford to bo harmless as a dove.
The host place to worship God—is out
doors. " . ‘ , 1 '
Wo are apttu halt them who wont take our
advise, arid dispise them who dp.
■ It ie dredful esy to ho-a phool—a man can
bo one.nnd not kno it. ' • . :
Elegant lezzure— ohaying plug tprbaoker,-
and spitting in a dorg’s eye. - ■ ..
Beal happiness don’t consists so.much in
what a man don't haveaz it.diiz, in What he
don’t want , ... ‘ ,
Fear is the fust lesson larn’t and the last
one forgotten- ■ ‘ ; -,
Nobody but a-phool gits bit twise by the
same dorg-* - :
A pet lam alwus makes a cross ram.
: Bpitaffs are liko oirouss bills, there is more
in the bills that is ever ferfprmed.:.
Peace iz the enamel ov the soul. ;
P Tew boa heltby—eat onions and go naked.
. ,Jo«b Billings on
“OUR COUNTRY—MAY ’IT ALWAYS BE ECHIT—BUT RIGHT OR WRONG OUR COUNTRY."
• *
Edward’s Temptation.
' bv noBATio Atofin, jit.
It wns six o'clock in the afternoon*. At
this time the great wholesale warehouse of
Messrs. Hubbard &• Son was wont to close,
unices the pressureof business compelled the
partners to keep open later.
The duty of closing usually devolved upon
Edward Jones, g, boy of fourteen, who had
lately been engaged to perform a few slight
duties for which he received the sum of fifty
dollars annually. He was the * boy/, but if
be behaved himself sans to win the approba
tion of his employers his chance of promo
tion was good..
.Yet there were some tilings that rendered
this small salary'.a . hhrd trial to him—cir
cumstances with which his employers v werf
unacquainted. His mother was a widow.—
The eudden death of, Mr.'Jones had thrown
the entire family upon their own resources,
oua theso were indeed lint slender., - •
, There was'an'elder sister who assistad'her
mother to sew, and this, with Edward,s sala
ry, constituted the entire income df the fnm:
ily. Yet by meahsof untiring,industry, they
had continued, thus far to live, using strict
economy, of course. Yet they had wanted
none of the absolute necessaries of life. ■ ’
But Mary Jones—Edward’s sister—grew
alok. She had taken,a severe cold which
terminated in a fever. .This not only cutoff
tile income arising from her own labor, but
also'preventing hpr mother from lioocmplish
itig ns much as she would otherwise have
been able to do. , " .
On the morning of the day on'which our
story commences, Mary had expressed a lon
ging for an orange, in (her fever it would
have been most grateful to her.
It is hard, indeed, wheb we are obliged to
deny those wo love that, which would be a re
freshment and benefit to them.
Mrs, Jones felt this and so did Edward.
‘T only wish I o'Alfid buy you. one, Mary,’
Said Edwftrd. just a? he set out for the store.
‘ Next year I. shall receive-a larger .salary,
and then we shan’t have to,pinch so niuoh.’
‘ Never mind, Edward,’ said-Mary, smil
ing faintly. ‘ I ought not to have asked, for
it knowing how hard you and mother find it
to get along without me.’ ■
Don’t trouble yourself about that, Mary,’
'said Mrs. Jones, soothingly, though her heart
pahk within her.at*he thought of her emyty
larder,, ‘Only got well; and we shall get on
well enough afterwards.’
It was with the memory of this scene that
Edward went to the storejn the morning.
All around him were boxes of rich goods
representing thousands of dollars in. money.
'. ‘ Oh,’ thought he, • if I only had the ,value
of one 1 of these boxes how much good it would
do poor Mary,’ and Edward sighed.
The long day wore-away at last, and Ed J
ward was about to close the warehouse.
But as he passed, the desk of his employer
his attention was drawn to a bit of paper ly
ing on the floor beneath.
picked it op, and to his great joy found
it to.be a ten dollar hill.
The first thought that flashed; upon. him
was, ‘ How much good this will do Mary.—
X can buy. her the oranges sheawauts, and
she shall have some everyday. And perhaps
she would like a chicken.' • ' . •
But a moment later hie countenance'.fell.
‘lf isn't mine,'die sighed. ‘.lt must be
Mr. Hubbard’s. This is bis desk, and he
must have dropped it.
‘ Still,'urged the tempter, he will never
know it; and after all, what are ten dollars
to him 'I He is worth •» hundred thousand /
Still Edward was not satisfied. Whether
Mr. Hubbard could spare it or not was. not
the question. It was rightfully his and must
be given,back to him. . ■ . ’ .
‘ I'll go to his house and give it to him this
very night,’ said Edward. ‘Otherwise I
might be tempted ttt keep it.’, ■ '
. He determined to go to Mr. Hubbard's be
fore he went home. The sight of his sick
sister might perhaps weaken his resolution,
and this must never be. He must preserve
his integrity at all hazards.
He know where Mr,-Hubbard lived. It
,waa a largo, fine looking house, on a fash
ionable street. He had passed it several
times and.wondered whether a mon niuat not
feel happy who was able tolive in suoh a style.
.Without any.unnocessaryidelay. therefore,
he went to.the house, ascended the steps, and
rang the bell. , , / . . ' ' '
A; man servant came to the door. ■
‘ Well ?’ he said. '
•Is Mr. Hubbard at home?* .; ,
‘*Yes, but he has only just come in, and X
don’t think he can see you;’ was the rather
■supercilious reply. •• 4 -.i’,l >' ■'
* I am in his employ,’ said Edward,; quiet
ly, ‘ and Xhavejust come from the store. | I
think he will see me if you mention this to
him.’ '' ■ .
* "Very well, you can coine in.’•
Edward .was . left-'standing in the-hall,
while Mr.[Hubbard was sought by the ser
vant. • . , ■' ~
* Well ?’ he asked inquiringly, ‘has any
thing happened V ,
: ‘No, sir,’ said Edward, ‘but I picked 1 up
this bill near your desk,'and supposed you
dropped it. 1 thought I hud better bring it
here directly.’ .. J • .
‘ You hnVp dono well,’ said Mr. Hubbard,
i and I will remember it Honesty is a very
valuable quality in a hoy just commencing 4
business career. Hereafter I shall.have por
febbionfidedoo in your honesty;’, ~
, Edward whs gratified by bis assurance, yet
pa the door closed behind him, and he walk
ed but into the street,, the thoughl of his sick
sister at home again intruded upon him, and
ho thought regretfully how much good could
have hoed done with .ten dollars. Nqtth.vt
ho bad regretted that he had been honest. —
Tltere was,(i satisfaction in doing right: ■
Mrs. Jones brought some-to.iqt to her
daughter’s bedside, but Mafy.motipned.it
away. ' ‘ ■' ■
‘I thank you for taking the trouble to
.make it mother,’ said she, ‘ but I don’t think
: I can possibly eat H.’ ■ , .
‘ls there anything that you codld relish,
Mary?’ ,• " .
• ‘ No,’ said she, hesitatingly, nothing that
we can get.' :. ' •
Mrs! Jones sighed, a sigh which Edward
echoed. :: • ■ ~'v
It was, with a 1 heavy heart that i l , a war a
started for the warehouse the next morning.
He had never felt the oraving ifor wealth
which now took possession of him.
‘ He set about .his duties as'usual. About
two hoo,i;s after ho had arrived at the ware
house, Mr. Hubbard entered. Ho did not at
first appear lo notice Edward, but In about
.half an hour Biimmoned him 1 to the office,
which was partitioned of from the remain
der of the spacious robins in which goods
were stored. / ~
He smiled pleasantly as Edward entered
his presenoe. .' , ' , .
.‘Tell mq frankly,’ he said, ‘ did you not
feel an impulse to keep the bill which Jou
found last night f’
CARLISLErPA- TMBSDAY, MAY 18,1865.
* 1 hope you will;!)
Mr. Hubbard,’ said
did.’ ■;
‘ Tel! me all ibnul
with interest. 1 IVli
you. I should hpvo
I know that,’.'’em
it bo offended .with me.
Id ward, ‘if I say that I
it,’ said. Sir. Ilulibnrd,
t was it that withhold
have known it;’
Edword.
dd you from taking it?’
r ou what tempted mo,’
mother and sister are
□ .sewing for.a living,
ly at.the best. But a
loeftoic sick, and since
ird lime, Mary’s ap
is- not relish food, hut
‘ Then wlipt with!
‘ First, I wiU tell
said Edward., * Sly
obliged to depelid up
and we live but poo
fortnight since Mary
then wo have had a
petite is poor, ah'} d
we are able to get he nothing better. When
I pinked up that bill could not help think
ing how much I migl .buy with.it,for her.’..
‘ And yet you.,did ; t take,,it ?’
' No, sir, it would tjive boon wrong, and 1
could not have lockedyou. in the face after
it.’ T,::' ; . ■
Edward spoke in. intone .of modest confi
dence. ' . . - .
MK Hubbard'-, wont'to the/doak and wrote
ft check. ■ , .-t
. V How, much do.tpfy you.n6w.? ; 'jho asked.
. * Jftftj'.didlurs a yea^saVd'jfid.^iird...
* Henceforth'yourdjtiesyiidlhhe increased,
and I will pay you twf hundred.. Will that
•please you ?* .
1 Two hundred dpi
'Edward, liis eyes
4 Yes, and nt.tho em
-increased, if, as I Ini
,ue to merit my.cohft
4 Oh, sir,
ward, full of.grajti.tu
..‘.JJy prescribing y
same you arc in .pi
will pay you ono r]u?
is a chock far iifty d
cashed at the hank,
may have the rest o
Edward flow to. th
don' riches Imstone
he purchased a supj
he .knew would bi
then made" haste liui
fortune,
[lata a year \*- exclaimed
ailing \\dth,delight.—
cf 4 the year-lbalj.wijl bo
vebp,doubt, you .cuntin
1eic0.,,,';
I bank you. V. said Ed
pr integrity.v As I pre
iscptj need of money, I
rtor in advance. Here
•liarsyou can
And; by the wav, you
the day to yourself/
bank, and \vitb;bis sud
l to tpo market where.
Ly of provisions, such a.«
welcome ,at home, atid
ic to. announce iris good :
A weight seemed b.fall off; the hearts of
mother ami daoghte a* they,heard,lns Tiur
tied,story,Wad thanked God for
bestowing upon her ft son whoso good prin
ciples liml broughtitliem this great relief.' •
And Mr. llubbird.slept.-none, the wora' 1
that night that atji slight pecuniary,sacrifice
be had done a kiinj action, confirmed a boy
in his integrity, aftruggUng
family. I f there nVe more employers as con
,'siderate as h«, thork-wbuld lie ( fewer tlishon
estclerks. -rip'.'— V 1 ,-
A TERRIBLE DUEL.
' A few years since as a New .England gen
tleman, whoso name avo. 'shall call Brown,
was passing a few d«iya in one of our West
ern cities. be. luui/ithe., misfortune uninten
tionally to offend the susceptible honor of a
tall, militia colonel,iwlio waa one of his fellow
boarders.. .His applogies not being satisfac
tory,;ft challenge- I ,was isonf to him, which*,
however, hejleelined. from conscientious scru
ples* ,’Xhq colonel, whbi by ;the,-way, had
won in two or .three encounters quite-a repu
tation : as a duelist, at,once conceived that
his opponent, was a coward, rind resolved to
disgrace him in the face of all the assembled
wisdom of the bouse, Accordingly,-the next
.day at dinner, time, in marched the duelist,'
.formed .with a cowhide, and,advancing to
Brown’s chair, proceeded to,dust liis jacket
fqrMm'in the most approved stylo.* Brown
was.astonished. Luckily he.had been lieu
tenant of niilitia in. his .native State, and.he
knew the - importance- of incommoding his
enemy by a diversion., So seizing-.aigravy
tureen, he tossed..the contents info the-face of
colonel, and before he could
recover from-the drowning sensation thus oc
casioned. 'be sprang upon tho table,-add be
gan to shower upon.him with a.liberal hand
me contents of the dishes around;’'' '-'''"
.“You avo an internal— r-~~ > "
“ Coward," the. colonel; was about to. say,,
but at that,moment a'plate!oh greens struck
full upon liis.mouth, and' the word was block
aded. lortt forever; '
“ Ha V' cried t|ie New Englander, wlinse
blond was o.iiw, up, ".(bird q(greens, are you ?
Taki'! a pntnlopind and iie/mrled n ceiling
volley, of bard, potatoes at him. .'■ ■■■ .. .
’ P Excellent, eggs hero,- capital, with calf's
head,” and crash camp ;a plate of -salt-boiled
eggs against the sideof lliepolonol’s omnium.
.The.blow of the cowllii:|a,.which had, hith
erty descended iipunith’O’ Yankee’s head and
shoulders,, now began .to fall .’ more [weakly
and wildly, and it, became, evident,that the
gseailant, half stunned, choked, and partially
.blinded,'w,as getting ~the worst-of- it.' His
courage ,wns 6oz|ng o,ut.
“Take a' turkey?” shouted Brown, as a
npble old gobbler defcendodifairly upon the
colonel’s bead, end, bursting, filled his hair
and-,eyes.‘with.delioio.Cid looking etulfiing.—
“ Here’s the fringes,Vibe ,continued,’as the
equash.Rnd jelly followed,;;.;■; -j.
By thisitiine the; .colonel was .'irretrievably
defeated, and as his mOfoilessopponent seized’
a huge plum pudding, [steaming: hot,' and',
holding it above his heads with both hands,
seemed about to bury him beneath it, he
quailed ,in terror,.add: throwing down his
cowhide, turned aboutiartd ,made,® rush for
the door. . ■■ ■ r /■’” 1' • I
Stop for the pudding, colonel, stop for
theipudding,” : . ■ ' ■
He did not esoape.from. the ridicule .wliieh
the affair occasioned. He subsequently chal
lenged four, persons, against whom .bis ire
was particularly exo ted, and they all con
sented to fight, but availing themselves of
the. privilege of-thqi’challenged;,party; tip
pointed pudding bagflfor their weapons. At
length the unhappy duelist, finding no.fene
willing-to shoot or tdjjjehhot.at,' was obliged
to. quit the Stats.,
ThE Mir.LEg’B ; Poß’kait. —A worthy rail-,
ler' wishing for 1 a port ’ait of,himself, applied
to an artist to hive itmainte'd.. , .’’’.V
•But,’safe!' ho, ‘l,jhra ;a verv indUstroms
roan. I wSnt tio be pointed ,08 looting out of
my window i but when any one"looks, at me,;
I Wish to pop my’h^tp"in, 1 So.ae»net to, ho,
thought lazy or; as Spending; too mpoh,tisbe at
thewiadoW,’ ", .-I.'',
..‘Tory well,’said tile, pdmter., “It .shall
bo' dime so.’ ,1 . • ! l
! Hq painted tho mill .and. the mill window;,
b Tho r miller looked hs it. "m, . .’
, Wary well,’’said US.- “ But where is my
self lookm’g out?’ ... ■■ , ; ~ ~
• Oh I’ said the painter, ‘ whenever any one
looks at the ‘niilf, jou ,knqw [ you pop jour
head in of courso, to prifservo yopr,credit tor.
’ fight,’’ Said ’the, Imillor;. “ I’pu;
content-just so. . I’m in the mill now, am t
•I? Just so—tliat/will do.’ „ ,
rr-p- A. German writer aays a young girl is
a fishing, tod—the - eyes;; are the
smile the bait, the lovw, .the, gudgeon. and
marriage the'batter in which he u fried.
o i ml:.- i
: A DAUGHTER’S STItATAGE.iI. ;
' . ,
Judy© Rob© lived in BellvUlc, on the hanks
of n great river in the West, Every year he 1 j
went to ’Washington, and his voice was often !
heard in the balls of Congress. Yet though .
he was culledgreat, he was not good, because
ho was very fond of drinking wine, brandy,
&c.,! and frequently tlie gambling rooms, so ‘
the, city. .These habits gained f
upon luiu daily, until they conquered all big
moral strength. His townsmen refused to
eehd him SB tlieir delegate any longer.
Judge Rose had an amiable wife an d three,
pretty daughters/ Mary, the oldest daughter,
was his special'pet. He thought more of her ;
than he did of himself, and no wish of; her’s
went unsatisfied.', She was of a sweet dispo
sition,'and so obedient and respectful to her I
parents and kind to every one about, that she 1
was beloved by everybody. And though her
father’s dwelling was the most elegant, and
they had beautiful grounds and servants, and
horses and carriages; and fine clothes,, she
never put on airs as many do; but was mod
est and retiring. , , • . 1 *
' Mr. Rose and.hls wife and daughters were
all members of a Christian church. He was
often suspended from its fellowship, and on
promises of repentance received again. His
influential position in society, an.d the pious
conduct of his wife, and daughters, caused
modi pity for them, and elicited pinch pa
tience. They hoped by love and forbearance
to restore him wholly. Bht all the love ol
hia family and of.the church, could not.s'top
this erring man in hia downward course.
At lust so low*did ho full as*to lose all self
respect,‘and 1 frequent the lowest whiskey
shops ; ntowri. Daily he went out nnshaved,.
unwashed, ragged and almost naked, and
wiien drunk would sing a low sonfe- which
wbuld draw .around him a crowd of boy s, to
jeer’and laugh, and scorn the once dignified
Judge.- In personal appearance he was now
the lowest, of the low* .
It is npt to.be sQpposed that Christian and
temperance men allowed such a man to ruin
himself without efforts to save him. Earnest.’
and persevering endeavors were put forth,
prayers, were offered up, and his family left
no avenue to bis heart unentered. But all
were alike useless and hopeless. His wife
and daughters wept and prayed, bat despair
ed entirely. • ;
Mary, his pet. often labored to save her
father from open disgrace, if not from private
sin. She became very sad, and refused to at
tend church,or go into society. When her
lather was sober he had sense enough to see 1
the sorrowful change in his,once happy Ma
ry*nn # d seemed to regret his course mare for
her sake than for his.
One morning he started as usual for the,
efrinking shop. He was a horrible object, in
decent to look at; as well as-filthy* ■ His wife
tried to hold him back, and get him, at least
to put dn soroe'decent clothing but he ■would
not yield. . Mary made her, appearance, by .
h's side bare.armed aqd bonnetless, wirtv an
old-whiskey bottle in her hand. Taking her
father’s arm, she said: :
“Gome, father, I’m going too.”
-• V Going whore ?” said ho, starting at her
,as if horror struck'. ■ - ' ’
. “To the dram shop. What is good for you
is good for me.f’ .’ ■
Then she began to 1 flourish her bottle and
aiiig one .oTithe low songs she had heard him
sing inlthe .
“Go back, girl, you are crazy. Mother,
fake her in.” ,d
“ But I am going, father, with you to ruin
my ,soul and body;. It is of no use to mo to
be good, while you are going off to the bad
place. You’ll be lonely there without your
.Mary. - ’ ■' .
“Go away, girl,"you’ll.drive me.mad.’
; “ But you have been mad.for a long time,
rand.l am going mad! too. What do I care,
my .'father is only ,a poor despised drunkard;
hia ..daughter may as well drink'and He in,
the gutter too.’! ' .'■•»••!«. ,■ •
So Mary phlled away at her father’s arm
and went on to. open the gate. Ho drew
back ; still she dragged on. and euhg louder.
A few hoys began to run towards them, and
"then her father broke from her , hold, and
went into the house. There lie sat down, and
putting ,hia faoe.ih his hands, wept and sobb
ed aloud; Still Mary staid out,
“ What is the matter ?” asked Mrs. Rose.
V Mary .is crazy, and I made her so. I,
wisHtl Was dead, : Do go; and get her in, I
wonlt go out td-day;” ■ ; - ,
■' Mrs; Reap went, out and told Mary, what
her father.bad.said, add then she went-in.—:
She sat down itith hei 1 botfloiuher hand,
and all day she kept on the’ old tigs. Mr.
Rose .was in o terrible state for the want of
his .accustomed bsHrauidnl,.and frequently/
■ would,go,to .the door,.bub Mary (.was ready at.,
his Side on every Occasion;. ■ Mrs. Ruse prej.
pared her meals .with extra .ogre, and
her husband two oupa of coffee,‘ and the lat-‘
tec. part ofrthei day; ho laid down to, sleep,—
When lie woke tip' Mary waa.lstill there in
her,rags,.and her bottle by hep side. . -
’ u With much, trembling and shakiDg, ho put
on a;good.' euit ofoluthes, and. dsked his wife
to: send,for a borber. : Then after tea-ho said.
“ 1 am going out,” ■.<
“ Where f’ . , f V. • : ’ -
. “To tjie, temperance hall. Go with mo
and see.it I don't go,there.” -,- ' ,
So! Mrs’; ■ Bose yven t with him to the door of
the.'halh.'Mary still saying: . ■■
“I.muet 'fojlow. for I’m afraid ho will go
to the whiskey shop without mo.’’ ~
' But his'wife.saw.' him, go up stairs.and on;
for the.theoting room, and the door close up-,,
on him. .Then ; she and Mary went hpmo tp;
rejoice, in trouibliug, at the resuU.of tbo sttat
agem.
• .#
SPEAK CENTLI.
'Gently, mother, gently,
:■ Chide thy little one/
flTia a toilsome journey,
It has just begun ,*
Many a vale of sorrow,
, Many a rugged stoop, ,
‘ Xieth in its pathway,
‘ -And full oft ’twill weep.
Oh, then, gently, gently.
Kindly, mother, kindly,
.Speak in tender 1 tone;
That d*iar child, remember,
Echoes baok 'thino own, .
- Toacb-in gontlo accents,
Toaoh in words of love, 1
, Lot tbs'softest breezes ,
Its young heart-strings move.
Woalcl'st thou'haro the sotting
Of a gem most fair, • . -
■ In a orbwn of beauty
It wore thine to wear ?
x Mother! train with caution
That dear little one;
- Guido, reprove, and over
Lot.the work be done
Gently, mother, kindly.
Surprise, joy, and some distrust, pervaded
the minds of the assembly of, temperance
brothers when Mr. Bose walked in.. He was
invited forward and asked to speak whatever
he’ wished.
. He rose, and told the tale of the day and
added, “ when I saw how my angel daughter
was transformed into a low filthy creature;
when t knew how much lower she would
have to descend if she-went with me, 1 ab
horred myself. She vowed to go everywhere
X went, and do everything I did.. Oould I see
her do that? Her loveliness stained, bet
character ruined ? No, sir I if it kills mejl
will leave off, and never touch, taste or hoo
die more, from this night henceforward and
forever. And now, gentlemen, help me to
be a man again.”
■ The building vibrated with the-cheering,
stamping and clapping,.and a gush of song
arose from those manly hearts which might
have been heard for miles. . Oh I “ there is
joy in - heaven over one sinner that repent
oth,” and should there not be joy on earth ?
. -We hope God converted the soul of Mr.
Bose, for he became a good man, and his fam-.
ily were very happy. But wo hope no other
daughter will have to resort to so painful a
remedy to save a father ’ ' -
Trick of am Esquimaux Doo. —One day
on feeding the dogs, I called the whole of them
'around me, and gave each a capelin, or small
dried fish. To do this fairly, I used to make
all the dcgs encircle me until every one bad
received ten capelins apiece.:, Now, Barba
kark, a very young and shrewd dog, took in
to hie head that ho would play a white man’s,
trick.' So every time ho received his fish, ho
would back .square but, move a distance of
two or three dogs, and fproe himself into line
again, thus receiving double the share of any
other dog. But this joke ofßarbekark’s be
spoke too much of the game many men play
upon their fellow beings, and, as 1 noticed it,
I determined to check his doggish propensi
ties ; still, the cunning and singular way in
which ha evidently watched me, induced a
moment’s pause in my intentions.' Each dog
thankfully received his capelin, as his turn
came round, butßarbekark, finding his share
came twice as fast as his companions, appear
ed to shake his tail twice ns thankfully as
the others. ■ A twinkle in his eyes, .as they
caught mine, seemed to say, “ Keep dart ;--/
these ignorant fellows don’t know the gtrtno
I’m playing. I’m confounded hungry !”
Seeing my face smiling at his.trick, henow
commenced making another change, thus get
ting three portions to each of the .Other’s one.
This was enough, and it was now time forme
to reverse the order of Barbokark’s game by
playing a trick upon him. Accordingly, ev
ery time I'bame to him ho gut no .fish'; al
though be changed ,his position rapidly
three times, yet ho got nothing. Then, if
over there was a picture of disappointed plans
—of envy at other’s fortune, and sorrow at
Cad misfortune—it was to be found on that
dog’s countenance as he watched his compan-'
ions receiving their allowance. Finding he'
could not succeed by any change in his po
sition, he withdrew from the circle to whore
I was. and came to me crowding his way be
tween my legs, and looked Up in my face as
if to say, “ I have boon'e very bad dog. For-’
give roe, and Barbebark will cheat his broth
er dogs no riioro. Please, sir, give me my
share of capelins.” I went round three times
more, and let Him have the fish, as be had
shown himself so sagacious, and so much
like a repentant, prodigal dog .—Captain
Ball. •* .
■ 'Business Rules foe Young Men.—Tho
world estimates men by their success in life,
and; by general consent, permanent stoooss
is evidence of superiority., , . •
Never under any circumstances assume a
responsibility you can avoid oorisiste'ritly with,
your duty to yourself and others. In other
words, mind your.own-business.
Base all your. actions,upon a principle of'
justice, preserve your integrity of character,
and in doing this never reckon on cost.
Remember that self, interest is more like
ly to warp ybur,judgment than all other cir
cumstances combined, therefore look well to
your duty when your interest is concerned.
N over attempt to make money at the CX-J
pause of your reputation.
Be neither' lavish nor miserly ; of the two
dvoid, the latter!, , A mean man is universal
)y;'d'espised, but public favor is a stepping
stone to perfefmont; therefore generous feel
ing should be cultivated. •
Premise little ■ think muoh'and do more.
Let your expenses be such as .to leave a
balance in your pocket.. Ready money is
always a friend in need.
Kriep clear of law suits, for even if you
gain your case you are generally a,loser.
, Avoid both borrowing and lending.
Liquor drinking, smoking .sugars, and
chewing tobacco’ are bad habits; they impair
the mind and pocket, and lead to. a waste of
time. They tend to let one down, but never
to lift one up, ! in the regard of the virtuous
and - the.good. , •
Never, relate your misfortunes to others,'
and' never grieve over what you cannot pre
vent. i
. PioEONs oN.i Dbonk.— A San Francisco
paper reports a ourioqs story. A farmer liv
ing on oaa.of the, ranches in the vicinity of
thatjoity, was rocoutly surprised to eeo a large
flock of pigeons, after, flying around bis barn
yard , alfew .moments, suddenly, fall to the
ground. Wondering at the phenomena,'lie
•concluded to watch, them. , An antiquated
Th'6maa-oat, perambulating the yard, seized
upon one 'of the young pigeons arid made a
hearty meal of it. Soon after Tbomas-oat
commenced staggering about like one intox
icated, and falling over, gave up the ghost
with a disriial yowl. The fnrmor’s.wifo, who
had picked rip a number of tl)0' pigeons for
the prirjjose of making pies of them, on learn,
.ing df poor, grimalkin’s fjite, thought the
'.birds, were poisoned-end threw them down. -
Thri farmer gatheredJoyer two hundred of
'them' and throw thorn into an. old out,house.
In the. morning.his. wife found the. pigeops
.alive and.roostmg’on a wood pile. Inquiries,
were.pihde, aud.it was ascertained
neighbor, havirig been troubled by frequent
visits of .’pigeons; .had soaked some grain in,
whisky and scattered it about his premises,
so that-the 1 pigeons, became intoxicated—in
fact, dead drqnk.„ They recovered, hqwever,
but poor puss, became a victim of alooholio,.
stimulants,' imparted by infected pigeon merit.
, jgg-,? 1 Got out of the yard,” Baid a big,
fooling.navy officer to a carpenter who, had
offendqd him, u you shall not .work for the
United', State*.” ’ The. carpenter walked to 1
the, gate and with the greatest iangi jroid
asked - him if Bo might .wock’in
States. ,’
Ky”, The Bloonisburg Star says the vindict
iveness and madness of the Ahs in that town,
is.auohithat if.thay rejoice with; them they are,
ipad, if they mourp ,>vith.them, they fnad;
1 and if you do’ neither, thej are mad.
- NOv4S.
~ . s f
. NICHOLAS SICIIhEBY.
THE ORIGINAL.B«I!F.ERB.’
„,A oorroepondeht, sends the fqliowiDl; curi
ous account of a recant conversation, lie haH
with a gentlemanly Nnglishmah/now .travel
ling in this country. VTo give it for whatev
er it is worth: : c,;-■
, , In the midst of c familiar chatiienslcod.—
..‘Did you ever read Dickon's Nicholas Niok
leby V ' :
I answered ‘ Yea.' ' •
- ‘ Well,’ returned he, ‘ Old Squeaks was my
old master, William. Shaw. And here you
the rested bis.story; One day when 1 4 ‘
was about nineteen years l,was passing
bya bookstore on Holbnrn Hill, London, near
the Saracen’s, Head Hotel, X-saw o finely,
though ooroioally-dov.ised picture Of a sohqul
nnister. On stopping to observe itmore care
fully I recognized the lineaments'of my old
Yorkshire schoolmaster, Shaw, andl went in
and purchased the volume containing the pic
ture, and foupd. that it was Dickons’,..Nicho
las Niokloby. A short, time afterwards, I
meb'an old schoolmate by the name of Bish
op, from whom Dickens got the facts of the
school part, of the story’he told me .that he
hud put Dickens in possession of themns the
surest way he knew of to pay off old-Shaw
for his brutality, . ... . ,ia.l.
I asked bim in what part of Yorkshire the
Shaw Academy (Dotheboy’s-Hall), was situ
ated, and his reply was at Bows. And then
by peace-meals examined the oharaotors of.
Squeers (Mr. Sbaw,) Mrs. SqUoors : (Mrs.
Shaw,) Miss Squeers (Miss Helen Shaw,) and
Master Waokford (Mi;. Johnny Shaw.)’; Mrs,
Shaw was to a dot as Dickens represents
She used to take all our lead pencils, paper,
shirts. Collars, &c., and either sell them or
give them to Johnny.' 0 what a batefdl lit
tle fellow ho was; he’d steal our balls; and a»
wb didn’t dare speak to his father about them,
ho always kept them. Miss Shaw is unfair- *
ly drawn by Dickons; she was Well educated
and considerably refined, having been sent to
a first class JadieS’V boarding‘School. Mr.
Shaw was a very passionate man .and when
.enraged at a boy in school, would order two'
boys to hold him . down upon a table, one
[ holding down his head, the other bis feet and
then .would gash bis bare back with birch
sticks. But no boy, in school daredcry.when
whipped, for it he did the other hoys pinched
and kicked him when they.got him hut of
doors. ' Mr. Shaw Sever taught any branch
es except reading and spelling. The reading
exercise consisted of-Biblirfeading from tho
whole school, oho hundred and twenty hoys,
two versss apiece; and the writing exercise
of two. lines, of -large and small hand. If
any boy in cither of these exercises didn't
satisfy Mr; Shaw, he' would forthwith lay
him out on the' table, order two' boys to hold.
him down and flog him,till, he got tired; One
day getting mad .at,a boy for a slight fault in
penmanship, ha Struck him. with a rod and
cut open his right cheek. The assistant
masters Were orphaned boys whom cruel
guardians Imdcpprentiood toyhhm.. ..One.of.
them kad a large fortune,left to. him by his
' parents, but his. giidrdinn bad apprenticed
him to Shaw as' a farm-boy and teacher,' ana
, had kepttho fortune for himself.; iMr. Shawls
largo farm was cultivated by tho boys. If
. they didn’t work hard,.enough they.-were
flogged Or allowed.half rations. Bor nearly
two months they had to work at baying, tho
school being divided into throwers and ra
kers. After the baying; old Shaw,would say
to the boys in the writing class, ‘ I’ll not flog
the rakers for their hands are sore ; hut wo
upto you, throwers 1’ ,
Ho used to go to London twice a year, and
then the boys had to'write letters telling their
parents what a good man Mr. Shaw was/and
how kindly he treated them. Before the lat- v
tors were written he used to say, ‘ 1 defy any
b>,y of you to say that I ever tooTc away a
collar, shirt, or even a'pin from' birdbut
Mrs. Shaw always (lid that part of the bust-.,
ness. Wnen in London he quartered at the
Saracen’s Head., Ouoe in three weeks tha
boys wore ranged in rows, and the assistant
masters went around andeaw whether each
boy had his load 'spoon'; knife and * u
hand; if he hadn't them, he lost his pocket
money for ;>va or three months. 1 ; After, the '
publication of Nicholas' Nibk)eby,:slr. Shaw
lost all his'pay scholars, and so ho ,appren
ticed his apprenticed scholars to shoemakers,
blacksmiths, and Carpenters. Mrs. Shavr in
about two years afterwards' died of a' broken
.heart. Her. contemptible olc(.husband .died,
almost an idiot; ’ Helen married a low drink
ing fellow; Johnny became a London.loafer,’
and the Second soni'Jonathao, who' studied
medicine,- spent wliatbver wiia left’of ths old
man’s property atOong his felloir'stu.dents in
drinking and high living generally,;.but. for.
some years has been the village physician in
his native place, Bows, John Brpdio actually
existed in John Doata, the village shoema
ker, who had the. humane' habit- o£ .helping
the boys in ,I'U nn ing away from Shaw’s dun
geon as he called the sbfaoql. ... ... .
When a hoy onmo tb'sbh'obl.his clothes and.
other things were taken poasessionof by Mrs.-
Shaw, and he was given pints’ of., leather,
which had been worn bya generation of boys
before him, and which ,bad been so patched
with different oolored’pieoes nf olotH that the
poor, schoolboys mistakenly called .them J
oseph’s coat ,of many colors.’ IVhen, Mr.
Sliayr and all.the contemptible tribe of York
shire schoolmasters had been shown iip and
ruined by Dickens’ Nicklehy, the London.
Despatch came otit advising Shaw .and his
fallow sufferers :to prosecute Dickens for li
bel, but my brother and, 1, who by bitter ex-,
perienoo kne’w ( ,the truth of Mr. Dickens’. ex
position, wrote to tho editor of, that paper,
assuring him that tho book'was almost’liter
oily.true. And then the Despatch pitched
into old Shaw .more:savagely than, Diokens,
had done. Nicholas Niokleby, or,, rather a
yo.ung Londoner, came into the,school as as
sistant, teacher after I left.'•
,A Wife ts Trouble.—' Pray, te|l,,me my
dear, what is the cause of those tears ?'
>* Oh, such a,disgrace !’ V’ ;’‘ ' . j
- ‘ What is it, my.dear 71 don’t keep me in
suspense!’ ’ »
■, l Oh, I have opehedohe of yonh letters sup-,
posing it to ha addressed to myself- ! Cer
tainly it looked more like.MrS. than Mr,*' i
‘ls that all! What harm can there’he in
a wife’s opening her husband’s,letters V .
‘ No harm in the thing itself hut the con-
£uoh a disgrace ;;v'Wi-i.;.- ,
, - '.Who has dated to write me ,a,,lettor..unfi6
to be,readhy'mj-.wiie ■
: 'Oh no, it is in .ihe iiniist chaste
and ibeautiral language. But ; fchdcoiitonta !
the contents I’. , . ; vt-.s ■ >':ir
. Here the wifehurried her face rn her hand-''
kef chief and commenced sobbing aloud,, while,
her buhband'eagerly nahghf up the fetter and;
1 commenced, -reading' the’’epistle -that 1 had,
nefirly, broken- bis wife’s:, heart.' t Jt was a.
bill .from ; tha. printer fop l^iree,
sabsofiptioh for the newspaper I
U®- Tha . ia uQiJpulitedly o i
| ; moi9 importauqe than a horse race. *