filje Jnwrftfln Doluntccv. PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BRATTON Jc’ICENN3C»Y, .rricE-soi rn market square, .r»«u»-Tiro Collars por year If paid strictly . «iivance: Two Dollars ami Fifty Cents if paid lD .n,tn throe months; after which Three Dollars lit ti« charged. These terras will bo rigidly ad- f u ‘, in every Instance. Nosubscrlpilon dis ..Tmnnd until all arrearages are paid, unless at ti'iaoptlon of the Editor. professional (Karts. *£~ p ; UUMiUCH. I WM. B. PARKER. H UMRICH & PARKER, A TTORNEYS A T LA W. Office on Main Street. In Marion Hall, Car lisle. Pa. Pec. 2 18S8- . rTNITED STATES CLAIM AND REAL ESTATE AOENOYI M. B. BUTLEE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, nmcoln 2d Story of InhofTo Building, No. 3 South jlanover Street, Carlisle, Ciuuborlaud county 1 Pensions, Bounties, Back Pay, Ac., promptly • C ApplUiidlon* by m all, will receive Iramcdlulo "rarVkular attention given to the selling or rent ing of Real Estate, In town or country. In all let ter of Imiulry, please enclose postage stamp. July 11. wtf7—tf T7\ E. BELTZMOOVJER, • « * ' ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, CARLISLE. Pa. .£9* Office on South Hanover Street, opposite Uentz’s dry goods bloro. # Dec. 1,1805. I. J. SHEARER, Attorney and Counsellor at Law, has removed his office to the hitherto unoccupied room in the North East corner of the Court House. Jun. 23, ’(ill—lV,_ W KENNEDY, Attorney at Law t Carlisle. Ponna. Ollieo sumo a* that,of tiWAmcvlcan Volunteer.” Dec. i. JWiB JAMES H, GRAHAM, Jh., ATTORNEY AT LAW, NO. U SOTUII HANOVER ST., Carlisle, pa. OFFlCE—Adjoining Judge Graham’s. March 81, I8?,(J-tf EL. BHRYOCK, Justice of the , Peuco. Olllco No 3, Irvlnta Kbw, Carlls.o. April IHlit-rly 2R. GEORGE 8. SEAIUGHT, Den tist. From the JJaltivwre College o/ Dental try. Ofllco at the residence of his mother East Louther Street, three doors below Bedford Carlisle, Polina. Roc. 1 1S05: HR. J- 8. BENDER,. Homoeopathic IJ physician, Olllue No, H, South .Hanover st., IjfinorlT occupied by John Dee,'Esq. . Juno 3,18(13 ly. DR. F. Y. REED. Homeopathic Phy sician, has located in Carlisle, Ollieo next uuur lo bt. Paul's Evangillcai Chureli, West Loulhcr Street. Pullouts hum a distance please call In the forenoon. ... March 17, lb7U-Um* JMJWARD SHILLING, M. D. PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON, jVo. 25 Fqst Fom/ret Street, CARLISLE. Dr. Shilling was associated with Dr. Zltrer, In Ibis place, for a your or so, and has been practic ing m BJclUuson township, for three yeais. All pridesfifoual business promptly attended to. April?, 1670—3 m B. HIIIOJS T B, Attobney and COUNSELOR AT LAW, rirru stelet, below etfESTKirr, Cor. Library. PHILADELPHIA Oct 4, IS 09—ly ROBERT OWENS, S&ATB ROOFER. AND DEALER IN NLATE , LANCASTER, PA.. All Work Guaranteed. Orders Left at this Office will receive promot attention. 'October 11, 1800—ly. —■«■«—— mm* Jbats anti «Eaps- JjIRESH SUMMER ARRIVAL Off ALL THD JS SW STYLMH Off HATH AND CAPS. , ILo subscriber has Just opened at No. 15 iVorfA fliiaorw Street, a few doors North of the Carlisle Deiwsit Bank, one of the largest ahd host Blocks of It ATS and CAPS ever offered In Carlisle. Bilk Hats. Cussimero of all styles and qualities, Stiff Brims, different colors, and every descrip tion of Bolt Hats uow made. , „ Tbs Duukard and Old Cushioned Brush, con ituiuly ou hand and made to order, all warrant- give satisfaction. ’ A full aaaoi tmont of MEN’S, BOY’S, AND . . CHILDREN’S. HATS. - have alaq added to my stock, notions of differ ent kinds, consisting of LADIES' AND GENTLEMEN’S STOCKINGS, Aicft Ties, Suspenders, Collars, Gloves, Pencils, Thread, Sewing Silk, Umbrellas, do PRIME SEGARS AND TOBACCO ALWAYS ON HAND. Give mo a call, and examine my stock as I feel ttufideul of pleasing all, besides saving you mo* ney ' JOHN A, KELLER, Agent, No. loNorth Hanover Street. May. 1869. £JATS AND CAPS I DO YOU WANT A NICE HAT OR CAP ? Iff 80, DON’T PAIL TO CALL ON J. G.CALLIO, NO. 29. WESI MAIN STREET, Vhire cun bo seen the finest assortment of HATS AND.CAPS ever brought to Carlisle. He takes great pleas ure lu inviting his old friends and customers, uud nil UCT7 ones, to his'splendid slock Just re ceived iroia New York and Philadelphia, con skiing tn part of lino . BILK AND CASSIMEBE HATS. besides an endless variety of Hats and Caps of the latest stylo, all gt .which he wWI sell at the Lowwt Cash Prices Also, his own manufacture Huts always on hfl.no. and HATS MANUFACTURED TO ORDER, ffo has the best arrangement for coloring Hals undull kindsof Woolen Goods, Overcoats, <to., at the shortest notice (as he colors every week) and on the most reasonable tonus. Also, a flue lot ol choice brands of TOBACCO AND CIGARS ulitrji on hand. Ho desires to call the attention puraous who have (?0 U N T It Y F U R B town as he pays the highest cash prices for ho Uiuo. Uivo him a call, at tho above number, his »ld •laua, as he feels confident of giving entire aa .is faction, h»y ißfly. ISpots anu Slices. gTKOHM & SrONSLER, iVo 13 tv*." . anover Street, CARLISLE, PA. ,'fhanlcrul fiir tha p.Lrouago extended thorn do now announce their usual laigo ■tact of SpUINU STYLE® of BOOTS AND SHOES tpon L.-UnUtt' AND MISSES’, 1 , U«ifTei’ AND DOYli’J YOUTH* AND CHILDS’. wiilch are naritelftt for comfort and beauty AIHO TRUNKS AND VALIS3ES, UEN AND BOYS' HATS, AH of whloli will b, sold »t amall pruflta. Call "“•“M all and |[,t a fall equlvulsuUl fur jour ,:.i,~_ ~ . . . . . . i ..: „. ~ ... A ~,,..,.... . & ,... s ik . c., c.,- •• • ... ..); • . .4. . . ......tiZw/ i r-: • $ • t:- ..f , i • %Iv ) . • . 'J. .1 :. ~.,...... . .. I. . .c. 41 1 ., •,,. 4, , : 1 " ' • ....I 1111 ''' ... ' i:, - • 1 1 . i r t : , & .. f f .-4 C .. ..i I r 1.,. 1 . : • •- , . . v • ,-... x • f , 1 . c. ~ ' ' ' ' ..... , c.,? Y,: . I 1 . 4 1 t .4 % .114 • 1 t ' ..: t , ~ i , •, -- f , '.: 4 ' 4 , ,t 4. . , ~ . .t.i , ,,, - e•—• . . . . • BY BRATTON & KENNEDY. ilfUscdlanemis QREAT COMMOTION DRY GOODS, On account of the reduction in Gold, thd Dry Goods Merchants whounderstand their business and the certain signs of the times, haVe reduced then’ loom their goods correspondingly. Thesnb farmers have just received from the cities a largo and full assortment of nil kinds of FOREIGN & STAPLE GOODS, which they will sell lower than they have done since 1801. SILKS, W<Jhl Do Lalhcs, Alpacas, Poplins, Serges, Bom bnzlncs, Tumiso Cloth, Grenadines. FLANNELS OF ALL KINDS, Plain and Fancy, Linen Table Diapers. Cotton do., Checks, Tickings. Qlughams, Counterpanes EMBttOIDERIE a full lino; White Goods In great variety, HOSIERY, GLOVES, TRIMMINGS, and a full slock of DOMESTIC GOODS, Calicoes, Muslins, by the piece or, yard; Grain bags. ■ CLOTHS, CAB3IMERS, &0., of all kinds and at the lowest prices. CARtETS, OIL CLOTHS, Druggets, Window Shades. Matting' " MILINERY GOODS of all kinds, Including Ladles and OhUdrcns Hals and Sundowns,, and the bfat assortment and best quality of line Ribbons In the county.— Kid Gloves, (best make,) Jewelry, Fancy Goods and Notions In great variety. This MAMMQTH SLOCK OF GOODS tno largest lathis section of country, it offered a. prices that defy competition, and nil wo ask is a fair examination by good judges of goods to satisfy the public that this Is the place to buy and save money. LADIES’ UNDER. WEAK, A' nice assortment of Ladies’ Under Clothing very handsomely stitched and trimmed at reasonable prices. WUOI i taken In exchange for goods. BENTZ & CO. - At the old Dry Goods stand established Feb ruary Ist, IWO. March 3.—70 The great medical discove ry! DR. WALKER’S CALIFORNIA VINEGAR BITTERS, More than 600,000 Persons IrtfFr testimony to their Wonderful Curative Effects. WHAT ARE THEY? TAEY ARE NOT A VILE FANCY' DRINK Made of Poor Rum, Whiskey, Proof Spirits, and Refuse Liquors, doctored, spiced, ami sweetened to please the tusto, called •‘Tonics',’’ “Appetlz* era,” “ Restorers, ’’ Ac., that lead the tippler on to drunkeness and ruin, hut are a true medicine, made from the native Roots and Herbs of Cali fornia freo-fiom all Alcoholic stimulants. They are the GREAT BLOOD PURIFIER and LIFE GIVING PRINCIPLE, a perfect Renovator and Invlgorator of llio System, currying off all poi sonous matter, and restoring iho blood to a healthy condition. No person ran take these Bl< tors according to Directions, and remain long unwell. Bloo\vlll be given for an incurable case, pro vided the bones are not destroyed by mineral poisons or other means, and the vital organs be yond the point of repair. . • For Inflammatory and Chronic. Rheumatism, and Gout, Dyspepsia, or Indigestion, bilious, Remittent, and luiennLtiont Fevers, Diseases of the Blood, Liver, Kidneys, and Bladder, these Bitters have been most successful. Bitch Diseas es are caused bv Vitiated Blood, which Is gener ally produced by derangement of the Digestive Organs. A leuuse the Vitiated Blood whenever you find its ini purities bursting through the skin In Pim ples, Eruptions or Bores; clean-o it.when you find it obsiiucted and sluggish in the veins cleanse it'.wheu ills foul, and your feelings will tell you when. Keep the blood pure and the' heall hof - the system of’so many thousands, are effectual ly destroyodumi removed. ■ ’ In Billotis, Remittent,and Intermittent Fevers these Bil'iers have no equal. For full directions read carelully the circu ar argund each boltlo, printed in lour languages—English, Gorman, French and Spanish. J. WALKER, Proprietor, 32 Commerce St., N. Y. R. U. MCDONALD A CO.. Druggists, and general Agents. Sun Francisco ami nacrumonto..California, and 32 and 3i Com merce Hi., New York. SOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS & DEALERS. March 7.187U-3in QARPETS I CAKi'ETB 1 I PRIMER & REISER, CARPET STORE, JVb, 23 East Main Sieeei, CARLISLE, In tho BENTZ' HOTEL. Tho largest and cheapest assortment of CARPETS, » OIL CLOTHS, MATTINGS, „ _ • WINDOW SHADES, LOOKING GLASSES, MAT AND CARPET CHAIN’S always on hand. We are prepnt I f “™,K purchasers with all grades of Ca.peta at the lowest rates. & WEIBER. March 17.1870—8 m qarrtage building in ALU ITS BRANCHES. AND REPAIRING Dono promptly and at reasonable rates. CARRIAGES, BUGGIES, AND SPRING WAGONS, Always on hnncl or nindo order. I will exchange CARRIAGES, BUGGIES, or SPRING WAGONS for Good lIORSI'.S. ■ Second Hand Wagons of all Hinds Taken In exchange for work, A. SENSEMAN, and t n bo^blio , 'ln d general B logivo him a cal’”" 8 Remember the old established place, on Pitt street, north of the Railroad Depot, Carlisle. A FIRST CLASS livery In connection with the nbove establishment. r H. K. PEFFEU. May 12, 70-ly EGGS!! EGGBM! >m light nrnhmn fowls, pen combed, strictly pure from Imported stoclc. $2.00 PE’K DOZEN. No order will be booked unless accompanied b A'rw'Surs forsnle. 61.00 TER PAIR*. A tow ' Half-Breed Itqlluu Bees for Kale In movable comb "hoFfSr, drcHB ’ X»;o. llox H 7. March 3.1870- .. Carlisle, la. The new article of food.— For twenty-five cents you can buy of your DYUgglst-or Grocer ngatllligc of Rt b Farlno manufactured from purf Irish Moss or tun greon, which will make sixteen quart, of Blan 0 Mango, and a lllto quantity of Puddings. Cus tards, Creams, Charlotte Russo, Ac., Ac. It Is by far the cheapest, healthiest aqd most delicious food In tho world. RAND SEA MOSS PARING CO., s'» park Place, N. Y. pFEIL & CO. I*llo DUCE COMMISSION MERCHANTS No. 10 NOUTK WATIStt SXKBiST, Philadelphia. Solicit consignments of all kinds of PKODUOJfI •Also, Uuttor. Lggs Poultry. Ao, &c. , fll „ n!man Philadelphia Itefuroncus-N. C. MusaoUnan, Esq.. Pres't Union Dunking Lp.. il»ll»deluiiia, Messrs. Allen & CUflord, and Messrs., Henry “'ihU.-PtoU* send for Weakly Prlco Odrrent firoe of charge. Jdaroh 10, it>7o—6m # . fio.etoi, , WATCH MOTHER I • * • Mother, watch the little feet Climbing o’er the gardoa,wall. Bounding ihrough'the busy street, . Ranging collar, shed, and ball* Never count the moments lost, Never count the time It costs— Lost those little feet should stray, Guido them, mother, whllu you may. * Mother, watch the little hand Picking berries by the way, Making houses in the sand, Tossing up the fragrant hay, Never dare the question usk, “Why to mo the thankless task 7“ These same little bauds may prove Messengers of Light and Love. Mother, watch the little tongue, Prattling cloquont’and wild; What is said and what Is sung • By thojoyous happy child, Catch the .word whllo^yet.unspoken, Stop the vow before ’tls spoken ; This same longue may yet proclaim Blessings in a Savior’s name. Mother, watch the little heart, Beating soft and warm for you ; Wholesome lessons how Impart— ’ Keep, Of kqop that young heart true, Extricating every weed, Sowing good and precious seed, Harvest rich you theu may see ’ Ripen foretcrnlty. 4. • - - . • MiAt'ALII3ITVIIS. ;i he PAixrfiu or roYthrdah. BY AMELIA B. EDWARDS, My father was a trader and distiller at Schiedam, on the Maas. .Without being wealthy, wo enjoyed the means curing* every social comfort. Wo cave and received visits from a few old friends, we went occasionally to the theatre, and my lather had his tulip garden and sum mer-house at a little distance from Schie dam—on the banks of the canal which connects the town with the river. But my father and mother, whose only child I was, cherished one dream of ambi tion, in which.fortunately, my own taste led me to participate. They wanted mo to become a painter. ‘Let me but see a picture by Frantz Linden in the gallery at Rotterdam/ said my father, *ami I 'shall die happy.’ So at fourteen years of age J was re moved irom school, and placed in, the classes of Megser Kesler, an artist living at Delft. Here I made such progress that by the lime I. had reached my nineteenth birthday, I was transferred to the atelier of Hans Van Boos, a descendant of the celebrated family of that name. Van Boob was not thirty-eight or forty years of age.lind had already ac quired considerable reputation as a paint er of portraits and sacred subjects. There was an altar-piece of bis in one of our finest churches; his works had occupied the place of honor for the last six years at our annual exhibition, and for portrai- tme he numbered among his patrons most of the wealthy merchants and-bur gmnasters of the city. Indeed, there could be no question that my master was rapidly acquiring a fortune commensu , rote with his popularity. ■ Still he was not a cheerful man. It was whispered by the pupils that he hail met with a disappointment in early life by the Judy for a nioro wealthy suitor. Ho came from Freißland.iu the north of Holland, when a very young mah. He hud always been the sume gloomy, pallid, lidior-luviug citizen. Ho was sparing of, domestic expenditure, and liberal to the poor. Tills every one could tell you, and no one knew more. ..... The number of his pupils was limited to six. He kept us constantly at work, and scarcely permitted ua to exchange a word with each other during the day. Standing there among us silently, with thedightfrom above pouiing down upon his pallid fuee, and becoming absorbed in the folds of his long, black dressing gown, ho looked almost like some stern old portrait himself. To tell tiie truth, we were all somewhat afraid of him.— Not that he assumed any undue autho rity : on the contrary, he was stately, silent, and frigidly polite; but his polite ness had in it something oppressive, and we were all happier out of his presence. None of us resided under ids roof. I hail a second Hour in a neighboring street, and two of my fel low-students occupied rooms In the same house. We used to meet at night in each other’s chambers, and to make excursions to the exhibitions anti theatres, anti sometimes, on a summer s evening, we would hire a pleasure boat and row a mile or two down the river. We wers merry enough then, and not quite so silent, I promise you, as in the gloomy studio. In the meantime, I was anxious to glean every benefit from-my mim’er’s in structions. I improved rapidly, and my paintings soon excelled those of the other five My taste did not incline to sacred subjects, like that of Van Boos, but rather to the familiar rural scenes of Rerglmm and Paul Potter. It wojb my delight to wander about the rich pasture lands, to watch the amber sunset, the herds com ing home to the dairy,The lazy wind mills scarcely ruffled by the passage of the public trcclcslutt/l (canal boat), in depicting scenes of this nature, ■■The slow equal, the yellow-blossomed vale, The willow-tufted bnult, the gliding sad, I was singularly fortunate. My master never praised me by word or look, but when my father came up one day from Schiedam to visit me, bo drew me aside,, and in a voice audible to the rest, ho told him that .‘Messer Linden would do credit to the nrofesßlon,’ which ho delighted the good distiller that he straightway took me out with him for the day, and having iriven mo fifteen gold pieoes as a testi mony of his satisfaction, took me to dine with his friend, the Bunrgmeiater Von Gael. It was an eventful visit for me. Upon that evening I lirst fell in love. Few people. I think, would at that time have denied the personal attractions of Gertrude Von Gaol. Yet I do mil know that it was her features so much as her soft voice and gentle, womanly grace that fascinated me. Though so young, she performed the honors of her lathers princely table with self-possession and good breeding. In the evening she Bang some sweet German songs to herown simpio accompaniment. Wo tallied of books and poetry, anil I found her well read in English, French and German literature. We spoke of art, and she displayed both judgment and enthusiasm. . . . ~ f . . As wo took our leave at night, the bur gomeiater shook mo by tho hand, ami told me to come often. J fancied that Gertrude s blue eyes brightened when ho said It, and I felt tho color rush qhickly to my brow as I bowed and thanked trim. ‘Franz,’ said my father, when we were in the street, ‘how old aro you?’ ‘Jjist twenty-two, sir,' I replied, sur pi i-md at the question. 'You will not be dependent on your brush, my hoy,' continued ray father, as lie leaned upon my arm and coked back at the lofty mansion wo had Just left. 1 have been neither wasteful nor unsuc cessful, and it will be my pride to leave vou u respectable income at my death. J I Inclined my head la silence, whilst I wondered wlmc would come next. ‘Burgomclster* Von Gael is one of my oldest friends,’ said my father. Thavo often heard you speak of him, sir,’ I replied. t ‘And ho is rich.’ ‘BO I should suppose.’ , . MTIQ , ‘Gertrude will have a flue fortune, said my father, aa If thinking aloud, I boWed once more, but this time rather nervously. ’Marry her, Frana.* CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 2, 1870. I dropped his arm and started back. 'Sir!' 1 faltered, ‘l—l—marry the Frau lei n V6n Gael ?’ ‘ And pray, sir, why not?’ said ray father, curtly. Ho stopped Short iu his walk, and leaned both tils bands upon the top of his walking stick. I made no reply. ‘Why not, sir,’ repeated my father, very energetically. ‘What could you wish, for better? The young lady is handsome, good tempered* educated, rich. Now, Franz, if 1 thought you. hud been such a fool as to form any attachment without ‘Oh, sir, you do me injustice I' I cried. ‘lndeed, 1 have done nolhingof the kind. But do you think—do you think that ah o would have me?’ ‘Try her, Franz, ’’ said my father, good hmnoredly; ns lie resumed my arm. *lf I am not very much mistaken, the bur-, gomeiater Would ho as well pleased as myself* As for the fraulein—women are easily won,’ We had by tills time reached the door of the iuu where my father was to sleep for the night. As ho left me his words were— ‘Try her, Franz; try her.’ From this hour I was a constant visitor at the house of the Burgomelster Von, Gael. It was a large, old fashioned man sion. built of rod brick, and shunted upon iho famous lino of houses known as the Boompjw. In front lay the broad river, crowded •with meiohant vessels, from whoso masts iluttoi.cd the flags of all the trading na tions of the world. The trees, thick with foliage, lined the quays, and the sunlight dickered through the .leaves upon the spacious drawing room of Gertrude Von Gael's, home. Here, night after night, when the studies of the day were,over, I used to' sit.with her beside the open window, watching the busy crowd beneath, the rippling river, and the rising moon that tipped thcginasts and city spires with silver. Here wo read together from the pages of our favorite poets, and counted the first pale stars that trembled into light. It was a happy time. But there came at last a time still happier, when, one still evening, as we aut alone, conversing in (infrequent whispers, and listening to the boating of each other’s hoaits, I told Gertrude that I loved her, and she, in answer, laid her fair head upon my shoul der, with a sweet confidence, as if ..con tent bo to rest forever. Just ns my father had predicted, the readily sanctioned our be trothal, specifying bub one condition, and this was that our marriage should not take place till I hud attained my twenty fifth birth day. It was a long time to wait, but I should by that time perhaps have made a name in my profession. I Intended soon to send a picture to the auupal exhibition, mid who could tell what I might not do in three years to show Gertrude how dearly I loved her. Aud so our happy youth rolled on, and the quaint old dial In Messer Von Gaol’s tulip garden told the passage of our gol den hours. In the meantime I worked seduously at my picture. 1 labored ppon it all the winter, and when the spring came I sent it in, with no small lanxiety as to its probable position upon the wails of the gallery. ; It was a view of one of the streets of Rotterdam. There were the high old houses, with tljeir gables and carved doorways, and the red sunlight glittering on the paned of the upper windows, the canal flowing through the centre of the street, the old white drawbridge, witli a barge passing beneath, the green trees deep in the sha .Lawrence When It whs quite finished and about to he sent away, even Hans Van Rons nod ded a cold encouragement, aud said that it deserved a good position. He himself had prepared a painting this year, on a' more ambitious scale and larger canvas than usual. it wns 11 sacred subject, and represent ed the Conversion of Ht. Paul. His pu pils admired it warmly, and none more than myself. We all pronounced it to be bis master piece, and the artist wns evidently of our opiniou.. ,Tbe day of exhibition came,at last. I bad scarcely slept the previous night, and the early morning found me, with a num ber of other students, waiting impatient ly before tire yet unopened door. When I arrived it.wanted an hour to the time, but half tlie day seemed to elapse before we heard the heavy bolts give way inside, and then forced our way through the nar row barriers. I had down up the staircase and found myso'f in the first room, before I remem bered that 1 should have purchased a cat alogue at the door. I had, no patience, however, to go back lor it, so I- strode round and round the room, looking eager ly for m.y picture. It was nowhere to be seen, and X passed on to the next. Hero my search was equally unsuccessful. •It must lie in yte third room,’ said I to myself, ‘where all the best works are hung. Well, if it bo bung ever so high, in ever so dark a corner, it is, at all events, an honor to have a picture iu the third room. 1 But though I spoke so bravely, it was witli a sinking heart” X ventured in. I could not really hope for a good place among tiie maguates.of the art, while iu either of the other rooms there had been a possibility that it might receive a fa vorable position. The bouse bad formerly been the man sion of a merchant of enormous wealth, who had left it, with Ills valuable collec tion of paintings, to the State. The third room-had been bis reception chain her, and the space over the maguib cently curved chimney was assigned us tiie place of honor to the best painting.— The painter of this picture always receiv ed a costly prize, for which lie was like wise indebted to the munificence of the founder. To tills spot my eyes were nat urally turned as I entered tiie door. Waslflreamlng? I stood still—l turned hot and cold by turns. Iran forward. — It was no illusion. There was my pic ture my own picture in its modest little frame, installed in the chief place in the gallery. _ . , , And there, too, was the oflictal . ard stuck in the corner, with the words, ‘Prize Painting’ printed upon it in a shining gold frame. Iran down the stairs and bought a catalogue, Hint my eyes might be gladdened by a conllrmatlon of tide Joy. And there sure enough waa printed at the commencement, ‘Annual Prize Painting— View in Rotterdam —No. 127—Franz Linden.' I could have wept for joy. I was never tired looking at my picture. I walked from one side to the other, I retreated, I advanced closer to it, I looked at it iu every possible light, and forgot all but my happiness. , ~ ‘A very charming picture,’ said a voice at my elbow. It was an elderly gentleman, with gold spectacles and an umbrella. I colored up and said falteriugly : 'Do you think so?' T do, sir;’ said the old gentleman. ‘I am an amateur. lam very fond of pic tures. I pi’esurao that you are also an admirer ol art?’ -—I bowed. _ . ‘Very nice little painting, indeed— very nice, 1 lie continued, as ho wiped hla spec tacles and adjusted them with an air of a connoisseur. ‘Waters very limpid, sky transparent, perspective admirable. IMI buy it/ ♦Will you,’ I exclaftned joyfully. Oi thank yon. air.’ ‘Oh/said the gentleman, turning sud denly upon me and smiling kindly,‘so you are the artist, are you? Happy to make your acquaintance, Messer Linden. You are a very young man to paint such a picture os Hint. I congratulate you, and— l’ll buy it/ , , So wo exchanged cards, shook hands, and became tffio heat friends In the world. I was burning with impatience to sue Gertrude and tell her the good fortune, but my now patron took my arm tint* said that ho must take tho.tour of the rooms in my company, so I was forced to comply. Wo slopped before a large painting tlmt occupied'the next best position to my own. It was my master’s work, the Conversion of St. Paul, and while I was telling him of my studies in the atelier of the painter, a man started from before us and glided away, but not before I had seen anti recognized the pale countenance of Van Rons. There was something In the expression %of his face that shocked me—something that stopped my breath and made me shudder. .What it was—l scarcely know; but the glare of his dark eyes and the quivering passion of his lips haunted me for the rest of 4he day, and came back again in my dreams. Isald nothing of it to. Gertrude that afternoon, but it had effectually sobered, my exultation. I dreaded next day to return to the studio; blit to my surprise my master received me as ho never had received pro before. He advanced and extended bis hand to mo, ‘Welcome, Franz Linden,’'‘ho said, smiling, *1 am proud to call yon.my pu pil.’ The hand was cold, the voice was harsh, the smile was - passionless. My companions crowded round and con gratulated me, and in the warm tones of their young, cheerful voices, and the close pressure of their friendly' hands, I forgot all (hat had troubled mo in the manner of Van Rons. Not long after this event Gertrude’s father desired to have her portrait paint- 1 ed to.console him*for her absence, lie *nid, when I should ho so wicked as to taUe her away from him. I recommend ed my old master, -whose tutelage I had recently left, and Van Roos was sum moned to fill, a task that I would gladly have performed had it been in my pow er to do* so. Rut portraiture was toot in my line. I could paint a sleek, spotted milch cow or a drove of sheep far belter than the fair skin or the golden curia of mi’ Gertrud*. She could not endure the artist from the first. In vain I reasoned with her— all was of no use, and she used to say at the end of every such conversation, that she wished the portrait was finished, and that she couid no more help disliking him than—than she coyld help loving mo. And so our arguments always,end ed with a kiss. • But this portrait took a long time.— Van Roos was in general a rapid paint er, yet Gertrude’s likeness progressed at a very alow pace, and like Penelope’s web, seemed never to be completed. One morning I happened to be in the room—a rare event at that time, for I was hard at w6rk upon my new landscape: and I was struck by the change that hud come over my late master—he was no longer the same man. There was a light in his eye and a vibration in his voice that I had n6ver observed before, and whenho rose 'to take-leave there was a studied courtesy in his bow and manner that took me quite, by surprise. Still, I never suspected the truth, and still the portrait was as far as It ever was from being finished. It nil came out at last, and one morn ing Hans Van Roos made a formal offer of his hand and heart. Of course be was refused. ‘But, as kindly as was possible, dear Franz.’ she said, when she told me in the evening, because be is your iriend, and because he seemed to feel it so deep ly. And you don’t know how dreadfully pale he turned, and how he tried, to re strain his tears, . I pitied him, Franz indeed, I was sorry.’ And the gentle creature could scarce keep from weeping herself, us she told mu not see* van jlujos'.ioi some months after this disclosure; At last I met him in front of the Stale House, and, to my surprise, for tho sec ond time in his life he extended his hand. *A good day to you, Messer Linden,’ said he; ‘I hoar that you are on the high road to fortune.’ - ■‘l have been very fortunate, Messer | Van Roos,’. I replied, taking the proffer ed hand ; ‘but I shall never forget that I owe my present elficleny to tho hours spent lii your atelier. } A peculiar expression flitted over his face. *lf I thought that,’he said hastily, ‘I should esteem myself particularly, happy.’ **■ ‘There was so odd a difference in tho ■way In which he uttered tho beginning and end of this sentence—so much burry : and passion in t ho first half, such a de liberate politeness in the last, that I start ed ami looked him full lathe face. He was ns smiling ami impenetrable ns a marble statue. ‘J too have been fortunate,’ he said, after a moment’s pause. ‘Have you seen tho new church lately huiU at tho east end of the Haring vliet?’ , v I replied tlmt I observed it in passing but I Jmd not been inside. ‘I have been intrusted,’he said, after n, moment’s pause, ‘with the suporln-* rtendenco of the interior decorations. My ‘Conversion of St. Paul’ is purchased for the altar-piece, and, I am now engaged In painting a series of frescoes upon the ceiling. Will,you come in some day and give me your opinion upon them ?’ I professed myself much flattered, -and appointed to meet him in tho church on the following morning. He was waiting for mo at the door, when I arrived, with a heavy key in his hand. We passed in, and he turned the kev in the lock. *1 always secure myself against intrud ers,’ ho said, smiling. ‘People will come into the church if I leave the doors un fa-tened, and I do not choose to carry on my art- like a sign painter, in. the pres ence of every blockhead who chouses to stand and stare at mo.’ Jt was surprising in what a disagreea ble manner this man would show his teeth when he smiled. The church was a handsome building in that Italian stylo which Imitates the antique, and prefers magnificence to tho dignified sanctity of the Gothic order A row of elegant Corinthian columns supported the roof nt each side of the nave, gilding and decorative cornices were lavished in every direction. The gorgeous altar-piece already occu pied its appointed station, and a little to tho left of the railed space, where the communion table was to bo placed, a scaffold was erected, that seemed from where I stood to almost come lu contact with tho roof, and above which I ob served tbo yet unfinished sketch of a masterly conception; Three or four more, already completed, were stationed at regular intervals, and some others were merely In charcoal upon their Intended sites. ‘Will you not cotne up with me?’ ask ed the painter,. when I had expressed my admiration auffloifently, ‘or are you afraid of turning giddy?’ I felt somewhat disinclined to impose the trial on my nerves, but still more in clined to accept it; but I followed him from flight to flight of the frail structure without daring to look down. At lost wo reached the summit, and, as I hud supposed, there was hardly room enough for tho aftlat to assume a silting posture, and ho bad to paint while lying on his back. X had no fancy-to -extend* my self on tills lofty couch, so I only lifted my head above tho of his flooring, looked at the fresco, and descended immediately to the flight below, where I waited till he joined me. ‘How dangerous it must bo,’ said I, shuddering, ‘to let yourself down from this abominable perch.’ ‘I used to think so,’ ho replied, ‘but I am now quite accustomed to it. Fancy,’ said he, approaching the edge of the scaffolding, ‘fancy falling from hero Into the church below.’ , ‘Horrible!’ cried I. ‘X wonder how high It is from the lev el of tho pavement,’continued Van Roos, musingly; 180 foot, I dare say, perhaps 200.’ I drew back, giddy at the thought. ‘No man could survive such a fall/ said the painter, still looking over, ‘the thickest skull would bo dashed to atoms down there.’ • ‘Fray, come away,’ said I, my head swims at the Idea^,’ ‘Does it,’ said ho, turning suddenly upon me with the voice ami eye of a fiend. Does it?' Fool!’ he cried as he seized me around the body in his iron grasp, *%ol, to trust yourself hero with me—me, whom you haVo wronged, whose life you have blasted ; mo, whom you have crossed iu love and in fame. — Down, wretch, dowm? I’ve vowed to have your blood, and now my lime has come.’ It sickens mo even now to recall that horrible struggle- At the .first word I had sprung back and seized a beam over my head. Ho strove to tear it from mo. Ho foamed at the mouth the veins rose like knots in his forehead; and still, though I folt my fingers strained and rny wrists cruelly lacerated, still I Held on with the terrible energy of one who struggles for his dear life. It lasted a long time—at least It seem ed long to me. and the scaffolding rock ed beneath our feet. At length I saw his strength failing. Suddenly I loosed my hold and threw my whole weigh against him. He staggered, heshrioket he fell. I dropped upon my face in mute hor ror. An age of silence seemed to elapse, and Dio cold dow stood upon my brow.— Piosently I heard a dull sound far below. X crawled to the edge of the scaffolding and looked down. A shapeless mass was lying on the marble pavements, and all .around the p'aco was red with blood. I think about an hour must have elapsed before I could summon courage to descend. When'at length I reached the level ground, I turned my face from what was so'near my feet, aud tottered to the door. With trembling hands and misty .oyes I unlocked it and rushed into the street. It was many months before I recover ed from the brain fever brought on by that terrible day. My ravings, I have been told, were fearful ; and had any double existed in the minds of men as to which of us two had been the guilty one, those ravings were aloue suflicient to es tablish my inuocenco. A man in a de lirious fever Is pretty sure to speak the truth. By the time I was ab’e to leave - my chamber,.Gertrude had also grown pule ami spiritless, ami unlike her former self. Rotterdam was insupportable to me. I found myself a hero of romance— a lion—a thing to be stared at wherever I went; all of which only served to shat ter. my nerves still more. In short, change of scene and air was recommended for us both ; sows thought we could nob do better then marry and taken wedding tour for the sake of our healths'. Aud I assure you, reader, it did us both a great deal of good. Pnss in Hoots. The youngest of a family of sons in herited only a tom-cat, who, noticing his master’s sadness, spoke kindly to him, and assured him that he could provide plenty for both of them to eat, If his mas ter would give him a dress, boots, and a sack. Puss was provided with what was need ed, and dressed himself and went to a rabbit warren, where he arranged a trap with his sack and some cabbage leaves. He hid himself behind a tree, and in a short time secured a fine rabbit. Rabbits were a favorite dish with-the king. Puss therefore presented himself Gamboa, takes the liberty of presenting to youflfcagesty this line rab bit,’ The king, was pleased, and sent hia compliments to the ‘Marquis of Cara has.’ an puss culled his master. The marquis went in to bathe one dos, when puss hid His muster’s clothes, and as the king’s carriage came along he call ed aloud 1 for help, aud his majesty order ed. his servant to provide the marquis with some flue clothes from the royal wardrobe. Clothed iu royal apparel the marquis was invited to ride with the king. The route home was over au estate belonging to an ogre and enchanter. Puss hurried along In advance of the royal train, and paid it's respects to the lord of the castle —the ogre. . Puss became friendly with the enchan ter, and inquired if ho really could change himself into an animal. Tito ogre replied by immediately changing himaejf into a lion, at which puss was much frightened. Puss inquired if he could change into a little animal, such as a mouse or a rat, as she was afraid of a lieu- Tiie chanter, without thinking, became a rat, and puss devoured him at oucel When tiie king drove past the castle, puss begged them to ‘enter tbe castle of tjio Marquis of Caraban.’ , Tho king ac cepted, and was so charmed will) the gooe qualities and riches of tiie marquis, that be gave him bis daughter, the prin cess, iu marriage. Puss having kept his promise to ills muster, was highly honored for-it, and lives the life of a gentleman of leisure, only hunting rate and mice when it pleases ills fancy. Thu Whong Man Poulticed.— At a famous and fachionahlo watering place, a gentleman one night was suddenly seized in bed with an excruciating pain in tho stomach, which neither brandy, No' B, or any other remedy could remove. Hie wife, after trying a numberof things in vain, and having exhausted all her stock of remedies, loft her husband's bedside for tho purpose of getting a warm application.. Guided on her return by a light shining iu a chamber, and which she supposed wns tho one just left, she softly entered, and was not a little sur prised to find her patient apparently in a deep slumber. However, thinking lie might be still suflsrln,', ebe gently ra sad the bcd-olotbes, &0., mid laid the scald ing poultice upon a stomach but not tbe stomach of her husband, which no sooner touched the body of the person than he, greatly alarmed, and writhing under the torture of tho burning application, shout ed: ‘Hallo! hallo! what in the name of heaven ami earth are you about?’ then, with one spring fr.om his bed, be. made for the door, and rushing down stairs, declared, in a frenzy of excitement, that some one bad poured a shovel full of hot coals upon him. .ThO"oman, overcome with excitement and alarm, gave frantic screams wliiclrhrought her husband hur riedly in fiopi the next room to her res cue. The husband was so much excited, and also so much amused with tbe sin gular mistakb' and the ridiculous position of bis better half, that be forgot ail bis pains ; but early tho next morning be, ins wife and trunks, loft for parts un known. Tito poulticed gentleman still retains the handkerchief—a beautiful linen fabric, with the lady's name upon it, wblob lie considers of rare value. The ‘Truolove* is the name of the old est vessel now afloat. She was built in Philadelphia in 17(>4, and Is consequent ly 100 years old. The vessel was butjt originally for the merchant trade, but -durliig-ti)eJlevolulion.was used as u pri vateer. She was captured by a British war vessel In 1780, and was purchased from the Jirltlsh Government by parties in Hull, England, from which port she now hails. Since 1807 she has been cm plaved in carrying ice from Norway to the English market. Bho is said to bo in as good a condition as ever, and still bard at work. Here is n pointed paragraph for typos: “ * of my existence, give mo an -v-/ -said a printer to ilia sweetheart. Bho imme diately made a at him, and planted her Jjtiiy between his I’s, nearly putting a, to tils existence. “Buoh an outrage/' was tho! of Faust, looking tfs at her, ‘•is probably without a |] In this $ of the country, and la a good subject for ai.” 70L. 56.—N0. 51', jvi;ric.\i.ciA L The certain-euro of neuralgia Is found Injudicious eating and exercise; and not only so, a permanent cure cannot be ef fected iu any other way, while these are always efllcient. In neuralgia the blood is always too thick, impure and in excess ; and us diet and exercise combine to render these condition's, some rules in relation to them are desirable. These will bo adapted to sedentary persons, to those who live In doors generally,such as women,students, bookkeepers, and (he like. It is rather better to eat thrice a day, morning, noon, and night; that is, Is soon nfler sunrise ns practicable, for the breakfast; dinner about! o’clock; supper before sundown. Eat nothing whatever between meals. Breakfast, a single cup of coffee, or tea; some cold bread and butter, with a dish of berries or stewed fruit in the suminet time, and nothing ©lso ; in winter, meat, fish, or poultry, or, lu their stoad, a cou ple of soft boiled eggs. Supper should be made of cold bread and butter, and a cup of warm drink ol some kind, and nothing else. Dinner the same os breakfast, adding one vegetable, and some fruit, raw or stewed, ns a de.*ert, and nothing else. A different kind of vegetable may bo taken every day for vaiie'ly ; (he Kind of meat may be changed at each meal. The object in t.ho specification above made ia (6 discourage variety at meals, because it is this which tempts all to eat too much. Persons at times have felt at the table that they had eaten enough ; but on seeing a very inviting dish unex pectedly brought'ln, a good meal has been eaten dr this last variety. The gen eral and hurtful error is that too great a variety is spread on our tables, not only occasioning trouble of preparation and a groat l«as r but also a positive injury. In the temptation of the appetite. The rea der may try it upon himself on any two days. A dinner of one vegetable, one kind of meat and bread ; at dinner the next day, let a groat variety be presented; lie will eat double the amount at this re past, with this remarkable difference: an hour after the first meal, he ,wiii be entirely comfortable, will feel as if he had eaten quite enough'; an hour after the latter, there will be decided discomfort.a ilness, a feeling as if some kind of re- lief was desirable, ami in too many cases a resort to the decanter, with a vain hope of a riddance in some way. It cannot be denied that the first steu toward intem- perate habits has been taken in using liquors to remove the unpleasant conse quences of over eating. A .very great aid overcoming a habit of too heavy eating will be found in silting.down’ to a table -with"only three varieties of food.—Dr. Rail. A Western Marriage.— A far west ern marriage ceremony, thirty years be fore the Pacific Railroad had annihilated the ‘Far West,’ has thus been described to us: i&fccnc— Potato field.—The magistrate iahis shirt sleeves, busily plying the hoe. Enter two Candidates for matri mony, who follow him closely along the row. The raagistrtite at first pays no„at tention to them. l ße you the Squire/ the youth asks. ‘Yes,* and the hoe rises ajid falls faster than ever. - * ‘We to be married I.’ the youth desperately exclaims. Thus admonished, the twain follow him anxiously along, hand in baud, un til the end of the row is readied. Hf/Yl yut/, ' T'fmV leans for the moment upon his hoe handle. ‘Do you (to the youth) solemnly swear by thunder, to take this woman for your wife?' ‘Yes.' ‘oo you (to the girl) solemnly swear, by thunder, to take this man for your husband?' ‘Yea.’ ‘Then, I swear, by thunder, you are man and wife,’’ A Fish Story.—We met a boy on the streets yesterday, and without the cere-o roony of asking opr name, lie exclaimed: ‘You just orter been down to tbe river a while ago!' ‘Why?’ we enquired. ‘Because, a nigger was in there swim ming, and a big cat-fish came up behind him and swallowed both of bis feet and went swimming along on top of the wu-, ter with him, and they came up behind another big fish, ami tbe nigger swallow ed his tail, and the nigger and two fish went swimming about!. ‘Well, then what ?' wo asked. ‘Why, after a while the nigger swal lowed Ids fish, and the other fish swal lowed the nigger, and, that’s'the last 1 saw of either of them.’ ‘Sonny,'said we, with feelings of hijmn for thb boy, ‘you are in a fair way to nfc com© the editor of a .Radical paper,' and we left him.— Kvchanye. A friend, says the Philadelphia Sim day J>iitpalch, has a thoroughbred pond er dog, which Is said to.he the most elli imnt animal of its kind in the United States. It. never lets any chance slip by it, this pointer doseu’t. The other day, as it was trotting down Tenth street, its master observed that it ran up the front steps of a house and pointed dead at the door-plate. Our friend \Vhistled and whistled, but the dog refused to budge an inch. -Upon going up to see what tbe mutter was, he found that.the doorplate bore the name of *A. Partridge.’ It is awful hard to beat that dog at his busi ness. He only needs a hint—just a mere suggestion. He has even been known to point at children in tbe family when his mnstergets mad at them, and make them quail. About Sardines.— I The French sar dine fisheries Involve the outlay of very largo sums of money. It is a great busi ness on the coast of Brittany, especially at Cuncarneau, where about thirteen thousand men are employed in carrying it on. The sardines are caught with bail, Uie 'substance used being the roe Of the cod, for providing which fisheries have been established on the shores of the North Sen. The mere item of bait money amounts to SSUU,OOU a year. After being caught and cleaned, the sardines are dried in the open .air, fried in boiling oil, and then packed by women and girls in the neat boxes in which they are sold. Mu. Maui; Twain lias had his fortune told, lie remembers as much as follows: Yours* win not, in Uie beginning, a criminal.nature, but circumstances have changed it. At the ago of nine you stole sugar ; at lifted! you stole money ; at twenty you stiiUi horses; at twenty-live you committed arson ; at thirty— har dened in crime—you became an editor. Since thon your descent has been rapid. Yon arc’ now a public lecturer. Worse things arc in storo for you—you will bo scat to Congress; next to the penitentia ry ; and then, dually, happiness wilt come to you again—all will bo well—you will be hanged!” \V>: heard a good tale on a certain slow railroad the oilier day. On this road the train waa frequently delayed by cattle upon the track. This had happened sev eral' times, but dually the locomotive came upon clear sailing and for ten or fifteen miles the train rattled along at a lively jot- All of a sudden, however, the engine began a lively blowing, showing that trouble had come again. At tills, one individual, who had been watching tlio trees llv [mst lliu windows, and had just persuaded himself into the belief Unit lie was riding into glory at tlio rate of a leaguo at a lircalb, jumped up with sur prise and the ejaculation : ‘Well, X’li be hanged, if wo haven't caught up with these blarstod cattle again!' Hates for 3Unn:txoinQ. ADVERTISEMENTS Will bO inserted at TCQ Cent per. lino /or the flrst Insertion, and flvo cova per lino for each subsequent Insertion, Qn&r orly half-yearly, and yearly advertisements In serted at a liberal reduction on tho above rates Advertisements should bo accompanied by tho Cash. Wncnscnt without any length,of tim specified for publication, they will bo continued until ordered out and onarged accordingly, JOB PRINTING. cards, Handbills, circulars, ondevory oth or description of Jon and Card Printing. (srms o( Kitetatute. DA3JE OI.UPU’, Little Dame Dimple, so merry and wise, Shaklhg your tangled locks oyer your eyes ; What are you plotting this sunshiny day, Under the apple trccsovcr the way? All the birds you know, you queer little olf. Sometimes I think you're a blrdlo yourself; Clasping tho honey-bees homo as they pass,. Watching the crickets that chirp in the grass. , Where Is your sun bonnet, dainty and neat? Whore aro the shoos for your bare little foot 1 •Little brown fingers that hide thorn so well, What will you do if your secret I tell? One chubby hand holds the frock at your knee, Filled full of treasures most, wondrous to see; Beetles that crawled lu tho dust atyour feet; Grasshoppers, pebbles and clover heads sweet. See ! thorb’sa hutlorlly gleaming like gold, Down goes the frock with Us riches unfold. Dear Little Dimple, wo older folks, 100, Drop our old treasures to reach for tho new. Missouri girls arc aweet — they are Mo. lasses. How to lay a good fire. —Contradict ymir wile. Tub best kind of servants for hotels— fnn-exporienced. Tub man who would try tostab a ghost would slick at nothing. . When Is an ox not an ox ? When ho is turned into a meadow. Wiry is an axb like coffee? It must bo giound before it cm be used. A disgusted woman in lowa sued for a divorce because her husband had given only one present—a coral necklace. . Pride— ‘Whnt is pride my son?’— ‘Walking with a cane when you ain’t lame,’ replied the intelligent boy. An Illinois grave-digger, who burled a, man named Button, sent a bill to his widow us follows: .‘To make one Button-hole, $2 5Q.’ ‘Comb here, sonny, and tell mo what :he four seasons are.’ ‘Pepper, mustard, salt and vinegar— them’s what mamma seasons with.’ 'Jane, give (ho baby some laudanum, and put U to sleep, and bring me my parasol. lam goiuu to a meeting for the melioration of the human race,’ ‘That is a very fine watch,’ sjiid one negro to another ; how much did they charge for it?’ ‘Duuno/ was the an swer. ‘De man wasn’t in de.store when X bought it.’ ” An insurance agent, urging a citizen to get his life insured, mid : ‘Get , your life Insured for ten thousand dollars, and then, if you die, the widder’s heart will sing foisjoy.’ ‘Didyou present your account to the defendant?’ inquired a lawyer of his client. 'I did, sir*’ And what did he say V ‘He told me to go to the devil.’ — ‘And what did 3’ou do then?’ ‘Why, then—l came to you/ A notice of a recent steamboat explo sion, in a Western paper, ends as follows: ‘The captain swam ashore. 86 did the chambermaid ; she was insured for fif teen thousand dollars, and loaded with iron.’ Considering tho fringes, tassels, cords and braids now used in. making up la dies’ dresses, it is suggested to say of them eleirautlv uuholstßrftd mahioH.rtf alaK/v»- In the absence of any other messenger, a colonel sent word to the band, by a surgeon, that some music was wanted.— ‘Can't blow a note/' said the drum-ma jor, *for wo haven’t had anything to eat yet.’ ‘No excuse at all,’ said the doctor; •blow away; there’s plenty of wind ia an empty stomach.’ Josh BilmncJs says: ‘Menuy people spend tbeir lime in trying to find the hole whur sin got into the world. If two men break through the ice into a mill pond, they had better hunt for some good hole to get out, rather than git into a long argument about,the hole they fell in.' ‘Tub fact is,’ said an elderly wife, *a man does not know howto straighten up things. Pl© does not kno,w where to commence. I don’t wonder,’ she re marked in conclusion, ‘that when God made Adam he wont right to work and made a woman to tell him what to do.' , A prudent master advised his servant to pm by his money for a rainy day. In a few weeks his master inquired how much of his wages ho had saved. ‘Faith, none all,’ said he, ‘I did as you bid mo; It ruined yesterday, I took a drop, and it all went.* n A lady, out with her little boy and girl, bought ibo boy a rubber balloon, which escaped him, and flew up in the air. The girl seeing tears In eyes, said; ‘Never mind, Neddy; when you die and go to heaven you’ll uit if.' oon Piatt says: ‘I waa in love once with a fat girl. She-was very lloshy— .She whs enormous, but the courseof true love ciuno to grief. I was sitting with her in* the twilight one evening. I waa sentimental; I said many hard things; [ embraced part of her. She seemed dis tant. She frequently turned her lovely head from, me- At last I thought I heard •a murmur of voices on the other-side.— I arose and walked around; and then found another fellow courting heron the left fiauU. I was indignant and left.' At Glenn’s Falls, New York, a mer chant hired a new clerk, and of course initiated him at once intoilthe mystery of the ‘cost mark.’ The same afternoon the nowiy inducted knight of the yard stick was showing some goods to a lady customer, when she demurred at the price of the articles. The feelings of the merchant may be imagined when the young mail called at the topjof his voice ‘What shall I sell this for? It is mark ed Sl.fiO, and cost 50 cents.' Mixiianics.— They are the palace builders of the world ; not a a tick is hewn, not a stone is shaped in all the lordly dwelling of the rich that does not owe its beauty and fitness to the skill of the mechanic". The towering spires that raise their giddy heads among the clouds depend upon the mechanic’s art for their strength and symmetry. Notan edifice (or devotion, or business, or comfort, but bears the impress of their hands. How exalted is their calling I A GENTLEMAN wlio has passed some time among the Cossacks of the Ukra ine tells of some strange customs still prevalent there, one of which many perhaps interest our fair readers. When a young woman in the Ukraine,' feels a tender passion for a young man, she goes at once to the houso of his. parents, and nys to him, “f’omagai bo"*,” which means, “bo you blessed of Ooti.” Tlio young woman then sits down and talks to the object of her choice as follows: “Tho goodness I seo written in j our countenanco is a siiflleioiit assurance to me that you.nro capable of ruling h 'roving wife, and your excellent qualities encourage me to hope that you will make a good husband. It is in tills belief that I have taken tho resolution to come qnd beg you, with ail duo humility, to ac cept me for your spouse.” tlhe then addresses tho father and mother and solicits their approval of, and consent to tlio marriage. If she meets with a refusal, she refuses to leave tho house, and such conduit is usually crowned with success. The parents ol tlio young men nevir put tlio maidens away'if they still persist in their stay, believ ing by so doing they would bringdown tlio vengeance of heaven upon their heads.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers