Volunteer. V-- |^' Ttn> Dollars nor year If paid slrlotly ‘ M „ 3 -„• Two Dollars and Fifty Copts It paid ! vfl o, C reo months; after which Three Dollars •“ iSJSSod. Those terms will ho rigidly nd- Ivory Instance. No subscription dis- R,',lml until all arrearages are paid, unless at of the Editor.. tlipo fjrofessiioual <gatHB. irTuVMBWa. I WM. i. I 1 ARK E j-gSIRICH & PARICKR, a ttohneys a t la ir. 100 on Main Stroot. lu Marlon Hall, Car- ,J’ n 2l. ISOS- [ITED states claim AND 1 .17, JCS.TA TE A Q EEC Y! I/ U. B. BUTLER, ATTORNEY AT LAW, ,In "d Story of luhoirs.Bnlldlng, No. 3 South jver” Street, Carlisle, Cumberland county {Sioiw, Bounties, Back Pay, &c„ promptly Mentions By mull, will receive Immediate fUcul'aratteution given to the soiling or rent [f flcal Estate, Intojvn or country, ' In all lot il Inquiry* please enclose postage slump. •11, ISG7—ti E. BELTZIIOOVEB, iTIOM&E'F-AT-LA W, CARLISLE, PA. • OHlce on South Hanover Street, opposite its’" dry goods store. , . Vl. Witf. 31. J. SHEARER, Attouney and CoUNSKiiLOU at Law, has-removed his to the hitherto unoccupied room In the i East corner of the Court House. i 5, ’(s—lV ' r Y KENNEDY, Attokney at Daw I Carlisle, Peuim. Office anmo n.s thnto/ American volunteer.” , ». 1. J&SB- L. SHRYOCIC, Justice, of tbo Peace. Olllco No 3, Irvin’s How, Cnrlisl o. ly ‘ .. GEORGE S. BEABIGHT, Den- I'tkt, From the Baltimore College of Denial fry. OUlcenttho residence of Ills in other LonMicr Street, three doors below Bedford die, Peuun.’ ,1 18W. h. J. S. BENDER, Homoeopathic friiyslcian, Olflco No, fl, South Hanover st., [crly occupied by John Lee, Erg. b a, 16(iD— ly. to. r. Y. REED, Homeopathic Phy liclau, has located in Carlisle, Office next [ to St. Paul's Evauglllcal Church, West [her Street. Patients irom a distance please n the forenoon, pcli 17,1870—Cm* 13. B. HIRONS, Attorney and COUNSELOR AT LA IV, FIFTH BTttEET, BELOW CHESTNUT, Cor. Library. • Philadelphia. Ul,‘lBC9—ly )BEIIT OWENS, SLATS ROOFER. r D DEALER IN SLATE LANCASTER, PA. • All Work .Guaranteed . Orders Loft at-this Office will receive iptiittenllou. October 11, JBo9—ly. p?ats ani> fflapg. ESH SUMMER ARRIVAL OP ALL THE A EW STYLES • OF ATS A JjT D (JAPS. • I subscriber has Just opened at No. 15 North er Street , a few doors Worth of the Carlisle it Bunk, one of the largest and best Stocks rSand CAPS over offered in Carlisle. Huts, Casslmere of all styles and qualities, irlmsj, different colors, and every, descrlp- Soft Hals now made. - Duukard and Old Fashioned Brush,con i' on hand and made to order, all warrant tivo satisfaction. A full assortment of BOY’S, AND ' CHILDREN'S, HATS. ; also added to my Stoolc, notions of dltTer ilds. consisting of. RS- AND GENTLEMEN’S STOCKINGS, fcj, Suspenders, Collars, Gloves, - Pencils, - Thread, Sewing Silk, Umbrellas, &c ME BEGABS AN D TOBACCO ALWAYS ON HANI». ; me ft call, and examine ray stock aa I feel |ent of pleasing all, besides saving you mo- JOHN A. KELLER, Apent, No. 15 North Hanover Street. iTS AND CAPS I YOU WANT .A NICE HAT OR CAP.? Ip so. don’t Pail to call 6n J. G. G-A LLIO, AO. 2D. WES 2 MAIN STREET, • can bo seou the finest assortment of HAT,S AND CAPS. nought to Carlisle. Ho takes great pleaa ! inviting his old friends and customers, I new ones, to,his splendid stock Just re- Irom Now York and Philadelphia, con ;lu pan of fine SILK AND OASSIMERE HATS, s im emi/oss variety of Hats and Caps o style, all 61 which he will sell at th si Um Prices, Also, his own manufnotur f* 1 always on btmd. ntt«2 Ala .MANUFACTURED TO ORDER, lias the best arrangement for coloring Hats 11 kinds of Woolen Goods, Overcoats, &c., at iwtest notice (us he colors every week) and o most reasonable terms. Also, a line lot ol 0 brands of TOBACCO AND CIGARS son hand. Ho desires to call tho attuntlo wns who have COUNT RYFUR9 .as ho pays the highest cash prices for tlio him a call, at tho above number, his »ld ho feels confident of giving cjiliro Hauls ' 181X1. Uoote antj Slioes. IYID STROHM, W. D. SPONSLER, JOHN W. STROHM, EW .UID F«mUR p, SHOE, TRUNK AND HaT I . STORE. [o. 13, Hoym HANOVEK HTKBET, l_ „ CAT.-USEE, Penn’a. doors Boutb o/Inbofl’s building, uavojnat opened tbo largest and best block boots and shoes ’arllsle, and continue almos • goods In our line as every ' consists In all kinds and Childrens’ strong Leather 23 and Childrens' Lasting r e Kid, Turkey and French 3oys’ Calf, Buff and Kid ’ Call and Buff Congress Joys' Lusting Oaltors and -oys' Calf Tina Buff Oxford Baskins and Overshoes; mt.-Welt and Carpet Sllp -CuUdreus^F^-a^d-Sax-- 3s ami prices f Traveling Uses, together with a line will sell to suit the' times, ID„M ALLS PKOFITS.*» ro, In issuing our. card, It mul Invitation to all In arougb oar stock without ms to buy unless suited In ) shall' always try to deal troJght forward manner, or afall equivalent forhls will avotl themselves of tojcaffand see us. JTBOHM & SPONSLEB. ’S, BLOWERS, jE AT THE NURSERIES, thing 'each trees, Grape Vines, irry Plants, Rhubarb, Or joneral Nursery stock.— :auaplanted, the best va nato, Cauliflower, Popper, 3, «to. Hweot Potato© and jo quantity. Hardy and WEBS jat Inducement offered to iba, for tbo purpose of any mi far club pricelist, All ■wfcto and promptly for- HENRY a. RUPP, instown, Comb, Co., Pa. 'MI! will change and ird to a permanent black * no poison. Any one can laU for 8U Address CO., Springfield, Moss. BY BRATTON & KENNEDY. ■ miscellaneous. rji he FIRSMORT6A6B BONDS of t;he Ghicago, Danville & Vincennes railroad Total amount to bo Issued. Capital Stock paUUn, EsUmnlccl Cost of Road (UO mlle.sj, EstlmalecUEarulngs per annum, Net Earnings per annum, Interest on the Loan per annum. Amount of Bonds per mile of Road, Amount of Interest per mile, . Amount of Net Earnings per mile/ Iho Bonds follow tho completion of tbo Road —nave tbo Union Trust Company of N. Y. as tboirOfllclal Register and Transfer Agent—and are sold at present at 05 and accrued Interest. Tboy bear examination and comparison, bet tor, it is believed, t ban any other now before the public, in tho llxed and unchangeable elements of Safety, Security and Profit. They beargood Interest-Seven per cent. Gold for forty years—and are secured by a Sinking Fund, and First Mortgage upon tho road, its out lit, and net income, the Franchises, and all pres ent and future acquired property of tbo Compa ny. . They depend upon no new or half-settled ter ritory lor business to pay their interest, but upon an old, well settled, and productive coun try; assuming that arailroad built through the inJnrt of such n region olTors bettor security for both Interest and ■ Principal limn a road to be built through the most highly extolled wilderness or sparsely settled territory. This Kail road possesses special advantages, in running into and eutof the City of-Chicago, an important Railroad and Commercial Center; in running t hrough a lino of villages ahdold farm ing settlements an the richest portion of the State ofllllnois; In running near to deposits of Iron Ore'Of great extent aud value, and over broad Helds oi the best coal in the 'State—which mining Interests are its monopoly. Aud besides the local and other business thus assured* there will bo . attracted to this road the considerable traffic already springing up “ From the Lakes to the Gulf:” as with Its southern Connections It forms a Trunk Lino 15 miles shorter than any other route, from Chicago to Nashville. These Bonds are therefore based upon a Real ty and a Business that a few years must inevi tably double—and competent Judges say treble —ln value. • Governments Selling while the price Is high pay well If put Into these Bonds, and Trust .or Estate Funds can be put Into nothing better. Pamphlets, with Maps, Ac., on hand for dis tribution. Bonds may be had directly of us, or of our Agent In Carlisle. . A. L. SPONSLER. No. —, Wesf'Malu St. W. BAILEY LANG & CO.. Merchants, , ■ 51 Cllirstreet, New York, * Agents' for the sale of thcßonds. Jan. 27,187(1—2ni CITIZENS OF CUMBERLAND My COUNTY. Wo have now on baud and Just received from the cities, and from manufacturers, the largest stock of new, cheap, and good goods to bo found In any two stores in the valley. We have the best assortment-of CLOTHS, CASSIMERS, SATINETTS. JEANS, FLANNELS, TICKINGS. GINGHAMS. PRINTS, MUSLINS. DRESS GOODS, Silks, Merlnoes, Repps, Delaines, Alpacas, Coburgs, Plaids aud Stripes. RIBBONS, HOSIERY, GLOVES, Zephyrs, Towels, Yarns, • : Linen and Cotton Table Diapers, • CLOAKINGS, low prices andilue HANDKERCHIEFS, COLLARS and CUFFS Velvets. Trimmings and more notions ;thau can bo found anywhere under one roof. FURS AND CAR PFTS, Oil Cloths, Druggets, Blinds, Coverlet's, Quilt Hoop and Balmoral Skirts, S H AWLS, of every description. In fact a splendid assort ment of goods, and more given for the dollar than anywhere else. WOO L, at the highest price taken In exchange. Give us a call ■ Oct. 2U. 1809. v QARPETS I CARPETS ! ! FRYSINGER & WEISER, CAR P E T S T O RE, No, 23 East Main Steeet\ CARLISLE, in the bentz hotel. The largest mid cheapest assortment of CARPETS, OIL CLOTHS, MATTINGS, WINDOW SHADES, LOOKING GLASSES, MAT AND CARPET CHAIN’S always ou hand. Wo tiro prepared to furnish purchasers with' all grades of Carpets at the lowest rates. , . FRYBINGER it* WEIBER. March 17,1870-Gra 1870. 1870 SPRING AND SUMMER IMPOTA TION. RIBBONS, MILLINERY AND STRAW GOODS ARMSTRONG, GATOR & CO. IMPORTEK3 AND JOBBERS OK BONNET, TRIMMING «t VELVET RIBBONS ■ -Bonnet Bilks, Satms aud Velvets, Blonds, Nets, Crapes, Jiuchcs, Flowers, Feathers ORNAMENTS, STRAW BONNETS AND ,LADIES* HATS, TRIMMED AND UNTRIJIMED, SHAKER HOODS, &c. 237 add 239 BALTIMORESTREET, BALTIMOREMD. Oflor the largest. Stock to bo found In tide Country, and unequalled In choice variety and cheapness, comprising the latest Parisian nov elties. Orders solicited, andpromptattentlon given, Feb. 21,1870—2m* JgGGS! EGGS!! EGGS 11! From light Brahma fowls, pea combed, strictly pure from Imported stock. S 2. 00 PER DOZEN. No order will bo booked unless accompanied by the cash. • A few pairs for sale. 81.00 PER .PAIR. A few Half-Breed Italian Bees for Rule fu movable comb hives—cheap. Ad dress C. U. HOPPER, P.0.80x 147. Carlisle, Pa. March 3,1670- rjmE MARY INSTITUTE, Carlibee, Penn’a, A BOARDING SCHOOL FOR OIK LH. Tho Ninth Annual Session will begin on Wed nesday, September Ist, For circulars or any thor information address REv. WM. C. LEVERETT, M. A. • Carlisle,tPenn’a April 22,18 G EARMERS.— Their Sons, and others can make money rqpldly, selling tho NEW .USTRATED FARMERS’ MANUAL, edited by Goo. E, Waring, Jr., Practical Parmer and Author, and late Agricultural Engineer of N. Y. Central Park. The best book for Fanners over issued—All need It before planting. It Is a sound labor saving, money making book. Thousands have bought It,and thousands more want It, 15th Edition ready. Live Agents wanted. Profits urge. A. H, HUBDARD. 400 Chestnut Ht- Phlla. March 17,1870-4 W TTIOR SALE OR RENT.—The House ft. in which I live, with or without tho lota ad* Joining, WM. J. SHEARER, J ffo- ]?0 South HanovorfSt. MoroU U, 1870—Ut AN EARLY FOE.U BY PRENTICE Tho following beautiful lines from tho pen of the late George D. Prentice,and which have nev er before been published, are copied from tho, handwriting of Mr. Prentice for tbo Norwich Advertiser, from an album of a Norwich lady, In which they wore written In 1525, when Mr. P., was twenty-throe years of ago : $2 fiR) 000 2 100 000 •1 500 000 2 080 800 879 70S 175.000 IS 000 1 200 ■0 1»1 Tho signal from tho weeping strand Floats o'er tho waters blue; It bids mo press thy parting Imml, And breathe my last adieu 1 But oft on Memory’s glowing wing My heart will fondly stray, And still to thee with rapture spring, ■\Vhcn I am far away. Oft when tho rising da\vn shall blush Through Night's empurpled shroud, And all her changing beauties rush Along tho Eastern cloud, Remembrance brighter chftrms will lllng Upon thy youthful day. And touch Affection's dulcet string, Though I am Jar away. Ahil when paloEvouiug’s raven hair. Streams o’er the lading west, And Heaven rains down her glories there Upon the Ocean’s breast, My Spirit In that holy hour. Will yield to Memory’s sway, And own thy dear resistless power, Though I am far away. The Sim has sunk with fading beam Down Evening's shadowy vale; ButseoJ—his softened glories stream From yonder cresoni pale I And thus afi'ectlou’s chastened light ’ Will display, To gild the gloom of Sorrow's night, When lam far away. : . fiti%lariaticou%. Many years ago a young Englishman, a medical student named Astley, went to Limn. The love of adventure was strong upon him, and all he met with in his own country was too tame to satisfy it. Proud of the profession for which he was studying, and trusting to it for subsis tence, strong and healthyiii body and in mind, he left England with a bold heart, aud this was the life ho led, and what came of it. At a time when the difficulty of pro curing subjects for anatomical study was very great, and when to procure ttienr honestly Was impossible, and the preju dice against dissection was so strong that no one was willing to submit the body of any one connected with him to examina tion, it known that there were men who made it their business to obtain at no small risk, bodies, generally those of.the newlyburiedir-wbioh they sold to surgeons, or indeed to anyone who of the ghastly • This class, known as ‘‘body snatchers” and “ resurrection men,” has died out, since there is happily now little prejudice against what has been most triumphantly proved to be a necessary branch of scien tific study;,but at the time of our story their hideous work was a thriving and profitable one. Richard Astley, in common with the rest of the profession, availed himself of their services, and many times, in the black night, his door was opened to those who dia not knock, but who were ex pected and waited for, and who, entering silently, stealthily deposited a dead bur den upon the table prepared for its recep tion. Old and young, men, women and children, all In turn lav upon that grim table, and Astley’s skillful instruments cut their way'to secrets that were des tined to benefit the living. Though he was not' hard-hearted, it was not unnatural that in time ho should grow so much accustomed to the sight of bis subjects as to feel, nothing.but a mo mentary pity, as he put aside the cluster ing curls of infancy,.or uncovered the face of a man,struck down in the glory of ripe years. ■ • HENTZ One night, ns many nights before, the stealthy visit was paid, and Astley took his Jamp to examine the new subject.— Neither strong man nor tender child this time, but a young and beautiful woman. The dead face was so lovely that it did not seem possible that the light In the closed eyes, could hot make, it lovelier. The fair hair had fallen back, and gave no shade to the white brow, and the long, fair lashes lay in a thick, fringe upon the violet tinted undeiiids. • ' She wag very tall and slender, and her hands—one of which hung down as she lay upon the table—were very long and perfectly shaped. As Astley lifted her hand to lay it on her breast, be thought' how beautiful it must once.have been, since now, when there was not the faint est rose tint to i.olievo the deadly palor of it, it was so. exquisite. She wove but one garment, a Jong flannel shroud, very stralghtly made, through which scanty drapery herslender limbs were distinctly visible, and below which her delicate feet were seen,bare to the ankle. Astley was troubled as he hud never been before. The idea of treating this beautiful corpse as he had done all others brought to him in like manner was re pulsive to him, and he recoiled from it as from the thought 'of gnerilege. But how could he rid himself of the lovely incum-r brance ? It was possible that the men who had brought it might be bribed to take it back again, and if they should re fuse—but he was incapable of distinct thought upon the subject, and could only determine that in any case the beautiful thing before him should ho treated with reverence and respect*. He gently cov ered it from head to foot with a long white cloth, and,locking the door of communi cation, between his bedroom and that in which it lay, threw himself upon his bed without undressing, for the night was nearly gone. . . But his sleep was broken, and his dreams were feverish, and in some way all connected with what lay-in the next* room. Now It seemed to him that she glided in through the looked door, with hands folded on her breast, and eyes still fast closed, and stood by his bedside, and now his dream was that ho had openetl a vein in one'of the delicate arms and that warm blood.poured from It fast; and finally he woke with a cry of horror from a ghostly dream that ho had.eUtereiTttrs room, and found that some unknown hand had anticipated him in the work of dissection. The horror was upon him after; he awoke to know it was a dream, and open ing the door he looked in upon the table. No change there of any kind. The long sheeted figure lay in the half light of dawn, as ho had seen it before in the lamp-light, very straight and still. Tt was not until nearly noon that Ast ley raised the covering to look once again upon the lovely dead face, and when he did so saw with wonder, not unmixed, with terror, that a change bad come upon it. He not tell what it might be; the deathly pallor was there still, but In some way the face was,not the same. Ho looked upon it long and curiously. Sure ly a change had passed over the eyes, for they were still fast shut, tjiey looked now ns though closed in sleep rather than in death. Ho lifted an eyelid tenderly with his linger; there was not death in the eye; unconsciousness, trance, there might be, but not death. ■ He was certain now that she was not dead, though lie could notilnd life in her pulses. NoV hours he strove to call back the spirit, until at length color returned, and warmth, and life, and she lay before him, sleeping tranquilly like a child. He had placed her on his bed, aud now sat by her side with a throbbing heart, to await her awakening. She slept so long, and in the waning light looked so pale, that ho feared she was again about to fall into the strange foefiritt. EIMIMIM A ROMANCE IN LIMA. CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, MARCH 31, 1870 deadly trance from which ho had with so much difficulty recovered her. In his .terror of that, he cried out for to awake, and the sound of his cry awoke her with a start. Ho had prepared a-speech that was to calm and re-assure her when sho awoke bewildered to find herself bo strangely clothed and lodged ; but she no more needed calming and re-assuring than an infanttoo young to know its’mother from any other woman. Sho looked around with a wandering gaze that was almost Infantile, and her eye, resting upon Ast- . ley, sho sat up in the bed, and asked I him, in his own language,,for food. It was evident that she had no recollection | of illness^ nnd neithe r anxiety nor curi osity as to her present conditloji. She ate the food that was brought to her with appetite, and would have risen from (ho bed, apparently unconscious that she wore no garment but a shroud, had not Astley persuaded her to lay down and sleep again. He left "'her sleeping, and went on to another room, profoundly puzzled. Here | was this beautiful woman, ignorant, and Almost helpless as a child, thrown unou him for protection, ns it was clear that she did not remember anything which would lead to the discovery of herfriends. It was possible that her senses had left’ her altogether, never to return; the love ly creature might bo,a harmless idiot all the reft of her days. Her speaking En glish was another puzzle. She might be an English woman—her beauty was cer tainly of the Saxon type—or she might only have learned ihe English language; but if so, how came that knowledge to have besn retained when all else seemed gone^ His perplexity was interrupted by the entrance of tbe cause,of it. She stood at the door, wrapped round in one of the bed coverings, looking at him with a sweet, childish, vacant expression, that was touching in its helplessness. I must J call her something, he thought, as she stood, apparently waiting for him to speak; “her name shall bo Mary.” “ Are you better, Mary, and will you • sit in this chair ?” , She paid no attention to the inquiry, but took the offered seat, and began si lently rocking herself to and fro.- It had such a ghostly effect to see her there by i the lamp light, robed in the long white drapery, with her beautiful face still pale, no longer deathly, rocking herself in si lence, that Astley,felt a sensation very like fear thrill through him, for ho could not bear this. He took up a book,'the first ouo that came to hand—and offered it to her, asking if she would read., She took it with a childish smile, and laying it upon her knees, began to flutter the leaves backward and forward, playing idly with them. ‘Good heavens!’ said to himself, ‘she i’s mad. imbecile at. I must do something with her.’” > But it was impossible to. think with her before him’, and, taking her‘by the hand, he said: . » ‘How, Mary, you must go back to bed, and to-morrow —-’ She did not.wait for tbe end of the sen tence, but rose at once to do as she was bidden-, threw down the.book;and letting fall the coverlet;that enveloped her, walked quietljrback td^heinner room. -Astley fastened the door, and felt as if he was going mad from sheer bewilder ment. She must have .clothes thefhst thing, and how were they to bo procured without taking some one into bis confi dence ? Even if he knew where to go for. them, he knew nothing of what a woman’s clothes should be. It was evi dent, then; that some one must be told of tbe extraordinary adventure, and It was also evident that it must be a.woman in whom ho could cdnttdo.'as lio requlred I practical help of the kind uo man could give hini. 1 The morning dawned before he could arrange and settle a plan, and finally he decided' that he could not, if. he would, rid himself of the charge of her. therefore she should remain in his house, aud he would toll all to the woman acting as his housekeeper, who chanced to.be absent at the time, hut whoso return he was ex pecting that very day. He would bind her to secrecy by the* most solemn.oath he could devise, and If she failed to keep it, why—at any rate he was in a terrible scrape, and this seemed the best thing to be done; The woman returned early In the day, and Astley at once told her all, and implored her assistance. To his great relief,she agreed at once to do all that lay in her power for the unhappy young girl, and a few arrangements made. Astley left the house for the day, determined ,to shake off the unpleasant impression, the whole thing had made uprn him Returning at night, lie found the young girl comfortably clothed, and looking less pale and 111. His housekeeper told him she had been dressed like a child, having apparently no idea of assisting her at all. It would bo impossible to describe min utely how intelligence dawned and grow swiftly in'the poor girl's rtiind It was not a gradual growth as from Infancy, but came in fitful snatches. ' The greatest change came first, when her face bright ened from Its sweet, blank vacancy of expression at Asf ley's approach, and then she began to Wait upon him like a loving child, and he with infinite patience soon taught her to read and write. She also learned to sew, and was not unskillful in such woman’s craft; but what he taught was learned quickest, best. ’ Two years passed, and Mary had de veloped so rapidly that she was much like other women in knowledge and ac* quiremenls, but she had no memory of anythin'.' - before her trance. Astley told her the whole story, and urged her to try to recall something of the time before, but it was in vain, her memory wasgone. •And the present time was so happy that they cared little fov tho past. Bhe was something belonging so .entirely to him, oven her life she owed to his coife, and loved him so intensely, there' Ixfingmo cue in the world whom she knew or loved ! beside, that lie could hot"fall to bo very happy ; and the mystery of the bond be tween them enhanced its charm. They were married, and still she lived in the same privacy as before ; her hus band and his love sufficed for everything, £\pd she shrunk from entering a world of which she knew nothing. Astloy’s acquaintances bad long ago decided that if ho was not mad, he was at least ccceutrlo enough to make his so ciety undesirable, and had fallen off, one by one, leaving him none but a profes sion. He had the reputation of being skillful, and his practice was a large one; his spare hours were devoted to his home, which was his heaven. ~~Two~raore'years ffassedrycars-of-most perfect happiness. Mary differed nowin nothing from other women, save from that blank existence of more than twenty years. Her memory of that time never returned, and she lived entirely within doors. Astley had one evening taken her for a walk, and the unaccustomed sights and sounds of the streets had terri fied her so much that ho never repeated the experiment. At times a longing to mtroduce his beautiful wife to his old friends and re latives in England was very strong, but the difficulties of explanation, or of de ceit, which it would involve, combined with her extreme aversion to iho project, always prevailed, and the Idea was dis missed ns if the thing was impossible. Six years had passed since the event ful night when Mary had been brought as one dead to Astloy’a door, when walk ing one day in the streets of the oity, ho hud met an old friend whom ho had not seen since his departure from England. The recognition was mutual, and Astley insisted upon his friend’s returning with him to dinner. The Invitation was cor dially given and willingly accepted, and thinking to surprise Mr. Holt by the sudden sight of Ills wife’s loveliness, ho said nothing of his being married, pictu ring to himself what.his astonishment would! bo wheuiio saw her. Though bo hud anticipated some ovi denco.of surprise, he, was quite unpre pared for the excess of emotion,disp lay ed by Mr. Holt upon bis introduction to Mrs. Astley. The color left his face for ft moment and then returning violently dyed in crimson, and the words of ac knowledgement fft wero stammered out almost unintelligibly. Recovering bis composure by a stroug effort be offered bis arm to lead Mrs. Astloy to dinner, but sbe quietly declined it, laying ber band upon ben husband’s. During tbo whole time of .dinner Mr. Holt scarcely moved bis eyes from Mary’s face, who did not seem at ail disturbed by his in tense gaze, and took no notice of ber guest beyond what hospitality demanded. Astley’s suspicions were excited long before the meal was ended, and bis heart took a jealous leap as lie thought it pos sible that bis friepd was falling iu love with bis beautiful wife. He ‘cursed the impulse that had induced him-to bring Holt home with him; and busily invent ed excuses for ridding himself of hie guest as soon as possible. Holt’s agitation increased to positive illness before long, and rising, lie asked Astley to accompany him to another room. He wae scarcely able to walk, and Astley took him by the arm and asked him if be was ill. 'lll I’ he groaned, ’I wish I were dead.’ He'eat down aud covered his face with* his hands. ‘You will think me a fool/Astley, but the likeness of your wife to mine , has overcome me. ’ ‘X was married eight years , ago.. I married aii English girl with your wife’s hair and eyes ; her height, too, and with her sweet voice. I brought her over here directly'after dur marriage, and we lived the happiest life in the world for two yenrp—and then she died.’ Astley was silent. He dould think of no words of. consolation that- would not be a mockery to a man who had lost such a wife as Mary. ‘Died,’ Holt continued, after a pause, ‘while I was away from her. I had gone ■ a three days journey, leaving her in per fect health, and I returned to line! that she had died suddenly immediately after my departure aud was already buried.’ . ‘How long ago ?’ asked Astley, hoarse ly. A horrible light was breaking in upon him.. ‘Six years. I left Lima the following day. I never oven visited her grave, but returned to England at once; and now after thebe years I find your wife so like her in every feature that my old wound is torn open afresh, and intolerable.an guish has made me cry out in this way.’ Astley '’started up and laid his hand upon his friend.’s shoulder with a grasp like a vice. His voice was harsh and dry, and bis eyes were bloodshot and star- ing. ‘Holt, for God’s sake let us do nothing, rashly. - Come with me to your wife’s grave, and let us be very sure.’ Holt looked up aud saw all in Astley’s face. ‘Speak,’ be shouted | ‘she is my wife! Tell me how you met her, speak quickly while I cau hear you, for there is a souud of a cataract in my ears that deafens me.’ Anti he fell in a swoon at Astley’s feet. He might have died in it for all Astley could revive him. He stood blindly star ing at the pafe face, but was incapable of so much as holdiugbbl'a hhud to him. Holt came to himself beforplong, and rising up haggard aud wild, repeated his demand that Astley should toll him where he had met his wife. And ho did tell him, sparing nothing.; saying plainly out.that she had, been brought to him by the body snatcliers as a subject, that she had lain as dead upon his table for a night, sheeted aiid shroud ed like a corpse. ‘And you dared —’ burst in Holt, who was almost beside himself. saved her life,’ said Astley, geutly; ner had softened as ho had thought of that restoration. ‘lVell you come-with me to the grave that we may be very I sure.' ‘ •No. no,- no,’ Holt moaned ; the fury was passing away, and giving place to a dull sorrow. ‘I can bear no more. It is us certain, more certain than death, that 3 T our wife is mine. God help us!’ . ■Which of the men-was the most to bo pitied? There was some moments of horrible' silence, in which each lieard.tKe beating of his heart, like a heavy-drum. Holt spokeagain. . 'Ask Edith to come here. Surely she cannot have forgotten me?’ ‘Mary—l call her my Mary. It will only distress her. I give you my word of honor that she has no juemmy of anything before the trance.’ But when be saw the passion in Holt’s face he judged it best for Ills sake. that she should come. Since he chose to hear from her own mouth what he had refus ed to bellevS from his friend’s he should do so. • She came quickly at the sound of the loved voice and' gilded into the room, looking like an angel of peace between two, evil spirits. She stopped short-as she caught sight of Astley’s face all drawn and sot with the effort to suppress his emotion, and then threw her arras around his neck with a cry of love and' terror. * But he unwound his arms, and for the first time drew back from her embrace. ‘Mary, my love’—Holt's eyes flashed fire at the tender words and tones—‘tell Mr. Holt, if you remember anything in your life before you awoke from your trance in this Jiouso ?’ T do not,’ she said, ‘I remember noth ing. I have said it so many times.’ ‘Swear it,’ cried Holt. ‘f swear It,’ she said, 'hy iny husband, Richard Astley.’ Poor Hoit! He threw himself at her feet, clasped her knees, and crying pas sionately: ‘Oh, Edith ! have you forgotten m°. your husband, David Holt? Oh, juy darling, you must remember me, and how happy we were for that short two years ?’ But she broke from hla grasp, and threw herself Into Astley’s arras, crying out: ‘Send him away! What does he mean? Send him away!” She was pale and trembling with terror. ‘Let her go !’ shouted Holt, ‘or by ’ The oath was interruptedly Astley. ‘Holt, God knows I will try to do what is right, add for her sake I ask you to bo culm.’ He placed hen In a chair, where she sat weeping forvery fright, and went on : ‘You shall say all you can to bring the past to her memory, and if she can re member in tbo faintest degree I will give up my claim to yours. But If she does Vint—Oh. Holt. I saved her HfoP The struggle was an awful one, and shook him ns the wind shakes a reed. ‘You tell her,’ said Holt, bitterly; ‘per haps she will believe what you say. At any.rale, she will listen to it I’ lb was hard to begin the cruel task »yet for her sake he undertook, it, his voice trembling, though he tried with all his will to steady it* ‘Mary, love, listen. You know that you must have lived twenty years before you was broughtihere that night.’ ‘I do.not know,’ she said; ‘I cannot remember.’ ■ 1 '• ‘But it must have been so, for you were a woman then. 7 ‘X cannot understand,’ she repeated, •I have no recollection of anything be fore that time.’ Astley turned to Hoft with a look of agony. ‘You see how It is; let us end tliis torture.’ ‘Give me back my wife!’said Holt, fiercely. ‘You will not take her,’ Astley cried, ns the thought of his doing so against her will struok’him for the first time.* ‘She is mine,’ said Holt. ‘Goon; tell her tbo whole story. If she does not understand it. due will believe it when you tell it to hor.’ The sneer with which the words were spoken was a cruel one, but misery had made him cruel, and fie scarcely know what he said or did. And Astley told her all in a very fow words. She looked bewildered. 4 ; ■lt must be true if you say so, but I cm not recollect; ami oh, Astley, I lovo only you.’ ‘She must come with me,/ shouted I Holt, savagely. The demon had got the better of him, and the poor wretch, mad with jealous pain, spoke bitter and un jusfc T words, that made the terrified wo man o'ing more closely to Astley for pro tection. * The scene must bo ended for her sake, ,aud Astley besought Holt to leave them i till the next day, when, If they could but I decide upon what was right it should be done. For her sake, too, he condescend ed to plead with the frantic man ; and seeing that Mary had fainted in his arms, he laid her down, and led Holt from the room, that the sight of her might no longer madden him. His rogo died out from simple exhaustion, and, throwing himself into a chair, he wept like a child. Andey roused him This is an awful tragedy; I wish to heaven I had died rather than played my part in it. There are not upon earth two men so broken-hearted as you and I. .Let ua accept what is inevitable, but let us spare what anguish we can4'> that unhappy woman. Leave mo now, and to-morrow I will see you again V Holt rose passively. . .‘You are nobler than I,’ he said, as be turned to go. It seemed to Astley that his grief was but beginning when he tified to explain the whole thing clearly to Mary.. The torture of putting it into words was so intcnsa.thai all before was nothing com pared with it, when at length she com prehended. and asked him if lie wished her to leave him, even that agony seemed slight contrasted with what he endured in telling her that.he believed sho ought to do so.. Loving as sho wan, she could not com prehend the sacrifice to duty which Astley was striving to make, and her thorough ignorance of Ihe waiid rendered it 1m- I possible to make her understand what jqr position would bo if she remained where she was. And yet this was a case —so Astley tried to persuade himself—so ervtraordinarj:, so different from anything that had ever been in the world before, that no Jaw, hunjun or divine, could ap ply to.it. But above all the thought rose dominant, that by whatever mystery of unconsciousness deprived of. memory, she was still Holt’s wife and not bis, and with this thought piercing him with a sharp sword, he said that ho believed she ought to leave him. She rose up, cold and proud In a mo ment and would have leffrhim, then, but at the threshhold her spirit failed, and, she turned again to throw herself at his feet, with tears aud sobs. Night lias veiled many sights of woe, the clouds of night have many times been pierced by cries of anguish, bitter cries for faith and patience, going'up above the stars right, to the feet of God, but night never shrouded deeper woe than this, nor bitterer cries never pierced the slmddering darkness.. When morningdawned they were both very calm and still. Their tears were shed and their eyes were dry. He hud decided for the right, though his heart wgs broken in the conflict; and she, woman-like, had accepted the right, not becauseit was so, but because ho said it was so. o ‘I shall die,’ she said in a voice from which all passion bud departed. ‘lean bear no more and live, but I can berp even this aud die.’ Who cun describe that parting?. When the sun set, it was upon Astley broken hearted and alone. Holt had taken away his wife. days passed, and Astley never left his desolate home. He made no dis tinction of day ornigbt, but lay down.ti sleep—if the stupor which from time, to time rendered him unconscious could bo eo-calJed—at any hour that sloop came to him. •At the close of the seventh day ho tried for the first time to look his fate boidly in the face, ‘I am not dead,’ ho said, 'therefore it is clear that this grief will not kill me.’ .That night lie u s dressed and went to bed. The night six years ago, when the sheeted figure lay upon the table; and he dreamed fantastic dreams of terror con nectedwith if, came to mind more dis tinctly thhn it liad'everdone before. His sleep . was broken and feverish, and haunted by wild dreams. Twice he av/oke feeling certain that he had heard a ittiOcking at the. door, and twtee ho slept again when he, found .that all was silent. But he awoke a third time id the gray dawn aud heard the sound again, a feeble knocking at the outer door, which ceased suddenly. XIo rose deter mined t.o ascertain the cause; ho unbar red and opened the door, and there fell forward across the threshhold the dead body of Mary, Mus. Partington on the Byron Bi'amial. —‘What do you think of the Byron scandal?’ aaked’.a caller, of Mrs. Partington, as they spoke of this and ‘Byron’s candle?’ said thodame, as she indistinctly’ caught the sound; and not wishing t'-» appear unposted, she went on like an arrow, hitting near the murk, ‘I don’t.think it is near as good as ’kerosene, and it don’t give half the light, besides daubing up everything wit|i grease, and being disagreeable for the oil-factories when it is blowcdout; but the gastronomic light Is better than cither, ami I should choose one as soon as t’other before I’d take to candles again.’ ‘But, my dear Mrs. P.,’ said the caller, ‘l.mean the Byron scandal by Mrs. Stowe*’ ‘Ah,’ said she, stil not quite compre hending, ‘well, she’d better lotdt stay in he mould, for Byron’s candle, so long distinguished, will sputter ami smoke if lighted, and she’ll smutch her finger* with it, she may depend on it. II can hardly be worth putting a new wicked ness in it, either, ami it isn’t worth re . viving, though she may’ do it with im purity.’ Bhe was in a muddle, the dear old dame, but there was u squinting of wis dom in her remarks,- though it came in by and the caller changed the subject. Home After Business Hours.— Tim road along which the man of business travels in the pursuit of competence or wealth, is not a macadamized one, and by well-springs of delight. On the con trary, it is a rough and rugged path, be set with “waitnbit” thorns, and full of pit-falls, which can only bo avoided by the watchful eye of circumspection. Af ter every day’s journey over this worse than rough turnpike road, the wayfarer needs something more tiuimfcst; quires solace, and he'deserves it. He is weary of the dull prose of life. Happy is the business man who can find that so lace and that poetry at homo. Warm greetings from loving hearts, fond glances from bright eyes, and wel come shouts of children, the many thou sand little arrangements for comfort and enjoyment that silently tell of thoughtful and expectant love, the gentle ministra tion that disencumber us into an old and easy seat before we are aware of It; these and like tokens of affection and sympa thy, constitute the poetry which recon ciles ua to the proso of Ufo. Think of this, yo wives and daughters of business men ! Think of tbo tolls, tho anxieties, tho mortification and wear that fathers undergo to secure for you comfortable homes, and compensate them for their trials by making them happy by their own firesides. Tho sober and industrious man’s home should bo made a happy one. In one of our courts, lately, a man who was called on. to appear as a witness could not be found. On tho Judge ask ing where ho was, a grave elderly gentle man rose up, and with much emphasis, said: ‘Your honor, he’s gone.’ ‘Gone! gone!’ said tho Judge, ‘where la begone^’ ‘That I cannot inform 3’ou, f replied tho communicative gentleman, ‘but he’s dead.’ This la considered tho most guarded answer on record, I The Docroit Fooled.—A poor Yan j koe doctor was once called from his bed mi. a stormy night with the.startling summons: ‘Doctor, I want you to come right straight away off to Banks’s. His , child is dead.’ ‘Then why do you come ?' ' 'He’s pisoned. They’ve given him laudlnum instead of paregorlok.’ ‘How much have they given him ?’ ‘Do’no. A great deal. Think he won’t get over it.’ The doctor pushes off through the storm, meets with diver’s mishaps by the way, and at length arrives at the house of his poisoned patient, and finds all closed. Ho knocks at the ddor, but no answer. Hu knocks furiously, and at last a night-cap appears from a chain berwindow, and a woman’s voice sfjnaks out, ‘"Who’s there ?* ‘I-loU, he a man ‘The doctor, to bo sure; you sent for him. What is the matter?’ *Oh, it’s no matter, doctor. Hphraim is hotter. Wo got a little frighted, that’s all.’ • ‘How'nuioJi laudanum did heswallow? ‘Only two drops. Taint hurt him al all. Wonderful bud storm to-night.’ The doctor turns away, buttoning up his over-coat under his throat, and tries to whistle away his mortification and anger, when a voice calls.• ‘Doctor, doptor?’ We)l,‘\vhat do you want?.' 'You won't charge nothing for this visit, will you ?’ Luxury-ok Easy Dress.—The follow- ing, clipped from the “ Laws of Life,’* is especially commended to the careful per usal of ladies who indulge in the habit of tight lacing; Very few ladies know how to appre ciate an easy, hualthfuldress. They think their dresses are loose, when a man or boy put into one as tight would gasp’for breath, and feel Incapaoleof putting,forth any effort, except to break the bands. Ladies are so accustomed to the tight fits of dress-makers, that they “fall to pieces” when relieved of them. They associate the loose dre u « with the bed or lounge. To be up, they must bo stayed up, and to recommend n comfortable dress to them is not to meet a conscious want.of theirs. It is a groat pity, none the loss If they could mice know what ft luxury it is to breathe deep and full at each respiration, to feel the refreshment which the system takes in by having the blood enlivened and sent bounding through the arteries and veins, to have the aids to digestion which such process g'lves, to have their own strong, clastic muscles keep every organ in place and themselves erect; if they could for awhile know this blessed luxury, and then be sent back into the old, stiff straight jackets, they would fume and fret,and rave in very despera tion if they could not get rid of them. As It is,.they prefer to languish and suffer dreadfully, and die young, and leave all of their friends and their hus bands, .and their littlp children, and I do not.see any other way but to let them be sick and die till they are satisfied. , If only the sinner was the sufferer it would not be so worth while to make an ado, about it, hut the blighting of future inuo-' cent lives which must follow, renders the false.habits ofbur women In the highest degree criminal. Two Curious Needles. —The King of recently visited a.needle manu factory in his kingdom, in order to see what machinery, combined with the hu man baud, could produce. He was shown a number of superfine needles, a thousand of which together did not weigh half an ounce, and marvelled how such minute objects could he pierced with an eye. But ho was to see that in this respect-even something still floor 'and more perfect could be created. The borer—that is, the workman whoso business it is to bore fhe eyes in these needles—asked for a hair from the monarch’s head. It was readily given, and with a smile. The matt plac ed il at once under the boring machine, made a hole la it with the greatest care, furnished with nthread, and then handed the singular weapon to the astonished king- Tin 1 second curious needle is In posses sion of Queen Victoria. It was made ut the celebrated needle manufactory at Redding, and represents the column of Trojan in miniature. The well known Roman column Is adorned with numer ous scenes in sculpture, which immor talize Trajan’s heroic actions in war. On this diminutive needle, scenes In the life of Queen Victoria arc represented in re lief, but so finely cut and so. small; that it requires a magnifying glass to see them. The Victoria needle can, moreover, be opened. . It contains a number of n.eedles of smaller size, which are equally adorn-, cd with scenes in relief. Hojih Honesty.— Everybody says that everybody should bo honest; but every body is not hou' st, either abroad or at That we should be honest in oiir home. I trade, weiirMsand measures,'dealing with jour neighbors and with* strangers, is also early right. That n strong principle o f integrity should govern us—:ls just what every true man not only admits hut, be-' •lieves ai d contends for. There is no such a thing as being too honest. Hon esty is a virtue better than gold, richer than rubies, more precious than gems and costly trappings... It is a much richer adornment.for manhood or womanhood than wealth can, purchase or place se cure. To be honest is to be both like a child and like an angel ; and Christ said, of such as little children , is the Kingdom of Heaven. But we wish to write’a word—a strong word—in .behalf of honesty. There are many people who are very honest away from home. They moke home promises only to break them. As husbands, they make a thousand and one promises to their wives, ahd hint a thousand good things, and raise many pleasant expectations, they never seem to think of again. As wives, they prac tice n thousand little deceits, equivocate and quibble many times, when straight forward hone.-ty was just the thing re quired. A-* parents they conceal, go round the truth, deceive, and often ac tually falßify'tp their children, when the truth Is'always better, always the heat. Tho children pee their parents’ double dealings, hoc their want of integrity, and learn from them to cheat, deceive, and equivocate. The child is too often a chip of the old block. Blbbina tarried long at the wine the other night, and after swearing lustily at several contumacious doors, (each l»f -wdriclr—Nvae—uotMda-owm r )- rofused to open to him, finally descend ing an old maid's stoop, seized the door pull, and gave a desperate jerlr. Tho pull and about live yards of the bell wire came out, and Bibbins, whose, weight on tho Fat Men’s Register is 210 pounds, richochetted with a double-bucked som ersault down the steps into the street.— He was found in a heap, and rescued.— On regaining his speech he said : ‘Don’t y-o-r k-n-o-w any better’ll t’r slam a d-o-o-r that way?’ A Great Curiosity.— The groat na tural curiosity, known us Sunken .Lake, is situated in the Cascade Mountains,' about seventy-five miles north-east of Jacksonville, Oregon. Tho walls are two thousand feet high, and almost per pendicular, running down to tho water and having no beach, The depth is un known,, the surface is smooth and un ruffled, and it lies so far below tho sur face of tho mountains that tho air cur rents do not ttllhct it. Its length is esti mated ofc twelve miles and Its breadth at ten. No living man has, it is said, ever reached tho water’s edge. Tho lake lies ‘silent, still aud mysterious in the bosom of tno everlasting hills, like a huge well scooped out by the hands of genii.' A Western editor puts above the door of his sanctum —Lady visitors aro reques ted to go to tho devil when they wish to btaln an Intoylow with tho editor* VOL. 56.—N0. 42 My bojV said a clergyman, ‘don’tyou know that it- Is wicked to catch fish on Sunday?’ ‘Well, I ain’t sinned much yot,’ said the boy, without taking his eye from the cork; ‘ain’t had a bite.’ A few years ago au ingenious gentle man managed to get drunk free of ex pense almost daily iu the streets of Lon don by falling down in a lit, with a small placard on his breast: 'Don't bleed me, but give mo a glass of bot brandy and water. 1 x’AiLuit, in riding, came to a dead \r.tbe lioree, in beating off tbo ight bis hind foot iu. the stirrup, \snilor observing it, exclaimed, X, -old Dobbin? -If you are \on, I mustget off.’ A arAKRYixa bachelor anxiously asks if it would bo of any use to attempt to„ make love to a young lady after one has" stood on her dress till he could hear the gathers rip at her waist? At one ol the ragged schools in Ireland, a clergyman asked the'qucstlon : ‘What Is holiness*.” A poor Irish convert, in dirty, tattered rags, jumped up, and said : ‘Pluse your riveronce, it’s to be daue Inside.’ ‘You must be a brave man,’ said a rough old customer to a spindle-shanked top. .... . ' man ‘Why,’ replied the rough old satirist, ‘because it must take a deal o’ courage to trust that soft brain o’ yourn a top o’ thorn ore legs.’ ‘Mother, what did father pray to General Grant in church for, yesterday?’ asked tho bright little daughter of a min isterial friend, lately. *1 don’t know that, he did dear.' ‘Why, yes; don’t you know? He was always saying, ‘Grant, wo beseech the©.* A member of the Wyoming Legisla ture, seeking to sustain a point of order, Jerked off ills coat, with : ‘Mr. Speaker, if some reliable man will hold these duds, I’ll teach him thatb© is out of order.’ The point was sustained. An old cynic at a concert tho other night road in the programme tho title of a song, viz: • ‘O give me a cat iu tho valley I love.’ Heading it attentively, ho growled out: ‘Well, If I had my choice, I should ask for a bcdatcad .’ ‘What harm is there in a pip©? 1 says young Puffwoll ?’ ‘None that! know of,’ replied bis companion, ‘except that smoking induces drinking; drinking In duces intoxication; Intoxication induces the bilo; bilo induces jaundice; Jaundice leads to dropsy; dropsy terminates In death. Put that in your pipe and smoke Hates for ADVKRTisE3fKNTs will bo inserted at Ton Cent pen lino for the first insertion, and five cons per lino for each subsequent Insertion. Qnar orly half-yearly, and yearly advertisements in serted at a liberal reduction on the. above rates Advertisements should bo accompanied by the CAsn. When sent without any length of time specified for publication, they will bo continued uni 11 ordered out and enarged accordingly. JOB pointing, OArfiis, HAZTDBThtA, CIRCULARS, and every otb or description of Jon and Card Printing. (Bents at mtevatuve. I . (The annexed humorous reportJs from the Committee op- Swine at a recent Cattle Show near Kali Biv6r, Mass.' The authorship Is charg ed upon J. C. Milne, editor of the iVeKT:J. ' THE HOG. e S I U B the Hog. Not him In Common styes, Hut that which roamed unpenned In Paradise, And furnished next to that best gift, dear ma dam, Au extra spare-i lb for Old Father Adam. Now If you doubt, when Eden's garden fair Bloomed fresh and lovely, that the pig was there; You'll certainly allow, (please don’t forget.) He weni v wilh Noah, in, out ol the wet. Yet there are some, who this plain fact dispute, And out of that old ark would crowd the brute I Hnld my friend Doan to me, the other day, (My friend, the Treasurer,) In Ills Toutin' way, "How can you prove, sir, that-ln Noah's boat The hog was gathered with tho sheep and goat?" Of that, (quoth I,) one can not bo mistaken. For wasn’t It there that Noah saved his ba.con ? A r»d did he not, though on tho surging brine, Have his Ham there whene’er ho chose to dine ? Beau censed tobrlsllc—’lowqd 'twnseven so, The '‘crltlor’, figured ut that Cattle HUow. I O, much abused ami much despised boast! slight thee most, who know thy merits least; . „■ Who would make light of thee, should try. thee llrst, Then \yilh thy praise thcy’ii iuter-lord their verso. Without thy presence at the festive board, Tlckllngtho palate of creation’s lord, In bake or fry, or even In a slew. Pray what could wo, or our good housowifes do?” More grief would seize on many a bosom stout, It, by perchance, the hog should once stop out, And life become, 'mid all Its varying scenes, hike Sunday morning without pork and beaus On beef and mutton, Englishmen expand, But pork’s the crowing glory of our land— Pigs are true Patriots, in the Buckeye State They die to make her Cincinnati greats Pork to the Jew fs every way unclean. ' •Howe’er prepared, with or without hls bean ; Thougn Paul felt free from Moses hereto swerve, 7 ho Jew still deems it binding to observe; We go with Paul—as every one supposes— As for the Jew—why, he may go to—Moses. A ticklish position—standing upon :rif!es. - . Pleasant exit—To be smothered in kisses. When is love deformed ?—When It is all on one side. •Onb oi the few immortal names that were not born to die’—John Smith. An Englishman wishes to know if the children of Ham were Hamericaua. Why does a pretty girl never need a mirror ? Because she is a good looking (g)lass herself. Do you know any word that contains .all the vowels ? Unquestionably. In girls we love what they are,, in young men what they promise to be. • Why is a beef-steak like a locomotive? It is-not of much account without it's tender. , lobe any body nowadays one must first be viewed, then reviewed, and, fl unky, interviewed. A contemporary, speaking of a large baby, says it was four weeks old when it was born. :n Adam and Eve partook of the knowledge’ did ~ they study the branches?’ ; Willi tree of higher A Cincinnati editor lias been caught by a net/ Tt was a brunette, and ho HJtes it- # A critic makes mention of a class of Americans in this .wise-; "They all belong to tliat keen, nervous 'sallow-laced' breed of mankind who are qualified at a moment’s notice to keep a school or edit a newspaper.” . —Jno. G. .Saxe broke his arm, the oth er day. Too bad ! hope it hasn’tper manently Injured his humerus —[Lowell Courier. Thanks for your kind condolence; I would write A merry rhyme, In answer, if I might: nul then—confound the fall!—the very stone That broke my Jiunun-m hurt n\y /tumy-bone * J. G. S. While the South Carolina Legislature was in session, the notes of a menagerie bund were heard outside the Hall, when a member made a motion that ‘ dis hon orable body move to de winder to see de show pa*a.’. Of course it moved. A OLEUfiYMA.N* last sumraertvisited the celebrated Hooaaic tunnel, and encount ered a sprightly looking Irishman, who, in reply to the question, ‘Lo you think this work .will* pay?’ promptly replied, ‘.Faith, no! Rut thin it’ll bo a great ornament to society.' • - Mlstkess.— *l hear you’re going to be married, .Eliza?’ Eliza.-‘Yes’m.’ - Mistress—‘And what*is be?’ Eliza (apologetically)—‘Well, ’em, he’s only a joiner; you see, we can’t all have gentlemen.’ hrlu A fft\i hall; fot file*, cant ami the\s ‘How now, t oing to gofc\».
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers