1' i ■ IE amttfam- baluhtcir. ' . | ' ' ' ♦ ■ ' g JL - fl ■ ji# mmn./ mu-i itwi KSiSiHfsS;:; ' £'•-14'' w l-l- ; Ik-V % Ji- ♦ o ,tjiteo mouths; after-which Three Dollars 1 BKbe charged. Those terms will be rigidly ad« * j In every Instance. No subscription dm* ■■ ___ ' nutll all arrearages are paid, nnless a * " “ “ i ■— 1 ~ ‘ ■ -—■■' -'■" - ■■ ■ ' - ■ ■.. , jp;„„o n oftheEa.tor. BY BRATTON & KENNEDY. CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, MAY 25, 1871. VOL gjarotessionai ® atm IS AND 1 MgAL ESTA TE AGEJSTCY. |i \VM. B. BUTIiER, M ' ATTOUNKr AT T,AW. ■Hu m Franklin House, South Hnuover Street BKisle.Cuinboilnnd county. Penna. •|»Ppllcatlonß by mull, will receive immediate iKrt/cularultontlou given to the selling or rent- in town or country. in all leU j^jl/11.1870—tf Rri^nEMZHOOVER, WjTIOItFEY~AT~LAIF, 'll . CARLISLE. Pa. *•- MfOUko on South Hanover Street, opposite EKu's dry goods store. JK. 1, IMS. __ ■ ■mjtRICH & PARKER, 4 V A TTOR NEYS A T LAW. Hi;i ou Main Street, in Marlon Hall. Car' St Pn. B«.'J ISOB- ' ' attorney- at-law, Office with 8. Hepburn, Jr. ' - JTa.it Main Street, - CARLISLE, PA, ’■U,7i-iy [T KENNEDY, Attorney at Law V Carlisle, Penna. Office same o« thatol -\merlcan volunteer.” i 1. JS7O; iR. GEORGE S; BEARIGHT, Den !ti3T. From the Baltimore College of Dental try, Office at the residence of Ills mother iLoutlier Street, three doors below Bedford jslo, Penua. • » »I 1805. J&ats anij fflaus RE.SH.ARBI V.A-E - OF ALf TITS A EW STYLE A OF IAIS AN'D CAPS. ‘ jisubHorJbcr has Just opened at No, 15 North urrr Street, a few doors North of the Carlisle .sit Dank, one of the largest and best Stocks [ATS and CAPS ever offered in Carllslp. k Hats, Gassiraere of all styles and qualities, [Brim*, d liferent colors, and every descrlp iof Soft Hats now made, is PutikaM and Old Fashioned Brush, con iilyon hand and made to order, all warrant aglvo.uotiafa«tion. A full ossoi tmeut of ’ GENTS, BOY’S, AND ; CHILDREN’S. HATS. vs also added to my Stock, notions of diQer klndtf, consisting of* 1.33' .AND GENTLEMEN’S STOCKINGS i/iftf, Suspenders, . CWlnr.i, Gloves; Pencils, U bread, Renting Silk, Umbrellas, do lIJIE SEGARS AND TOBACCO ALWAYS ON HAND, re me a call, and examine my stock as I feel Ucut of pleasing all, besides saving yon mo»- JOHN A. KELLER, Agent, No. 15 North Hanover Street. .Vi'S AND CAPS I b YOU WANT A NICE HAT OR OAT ? - If so, don’t Pail to I’ai.i, on J. G. CAL LIO, m 29. WESJ MAIN STREET. ire can be seen the finest assortment of HATS AND OARS -brought to He takes great pleas iln inviting his old friends and customers, all now ones, to his splendid t*>ock just re d from Now York and Philadelphia, cou sin part of tlno SILK AND CASSIMERE HATS, Im an endless variety of Huts and Caps of latest style, all of which ho will sell at the rtf CUtft Prices. Also, Uls own manufacture Ills always on hand, and - - HATS MANUFACTURED TO ORDER. • lias the Deal arrangement for coloring Hats all klnusof Woolen Goods, Overcoats, «tc., at ihortest notice (os ho colors every week) and .ho moat reasonable terms. Also, a fine lot of Ice brands of . TOBACCO AND CIGARS >ya on hand. Ho desires to call thoattentlou who have COUNTR Y PURS ill, at ho pays the highest cash prices for Ue .re him a call, at tbd above number, his ild :>J, asJio fools confident of giving entire sa is "on. , , tl, 1670, SHumittS. See. M 'M * * MESOAMr'BELL. | W. F, KENWOOD mPBBLL~& MBNWOOD, PLUMBERS, IS AND STEAM FITTERS ‘Vo. 28 North Hanover St, V-, CARLISLE, PjA. iHTUHS, VATER CLOSETS, WASH BASINS. HYDRANTS, LIFT AND FORCE PUMPS, CISTERN AND DEEP WELL PUMPS, GAS FIXTURES, I SHADES AND GLOBES &o„ &c. ad, Iron and Terra Cotta Pipe, UHIMNEY TOPS and FLUES, A ll kinds ot RASS WORK •iß’am uu-.V Water constantly on tmml. IRK IN TOWN OR COUNTRY _ promptly attended to. attention given to orders for dial or work irom a dlstanco.-ffifi' Iw; special advantages wo are prepared to *. COPPER WORK •l descriptions for Still Houses [andjjotlier Po«es at homo or at a distance. COPPER PIPE 'nUlied lo order either drawn or brazed. ■fe. k k k k & k k k ! P. 1, 70—lv lOTIONS WHOLESALE AT CITY PRICES, constantly on band such as • SUSPENDERS, NECK TIES and • x BOWS. 3|HT FRONTS, Cambric and Linen Handkor m ' .-h’tocn and Paper Collars and Cufft, mmings Braids, Spool Cotton. WaHetta iwil BlttMonar >» wrapping Paper and Paper "Wi Soaps and Perfumery, Shoo Black, Polish, ludlgo, Seaars. Henu for circulars Q«e° ou r terms, and a full description of the K p* ddreaa . NAT'L. PUBLISHING CO., A GENTS—MaIe and Female, for sell- K.VPopular subscription Books.. Extra »ments to Agents. Information tree. ■ Ad* rStAm. Book Co„ 62 William it., N. Y. A P*H CT, 1871-4* IWrtricaL jjoofland’s GERMAN MEDICINES. Hoofland's German : Bitters, Hoofland's German Tonic Hoofland’s Podophyllin. Hoofland’s Greek Dili llqofUmd’s German .Bitters. A Bitters without Alcohol or Spirits of any kind, Is different from all others. Ills composed of the pure juices or vital principle of Roots, Herbs, aud Barics (or ns medicinally termed; extracts), the worthless or Inert portions of the Ingredl on ss not being used. Therefore, In one bottle of this Bitters there la contained as much medici nal virtue os will bo found In several gallons of ordinary mixtures. The Hoolsj 4c., used in this Bitters arc grown In Germany, their vital prim clples extracted la-that country by a sclentillo Chemist and forwarded to the monufactory In this city, where they are compounded and bot tled. Containing no spirituous ingredients, this Bitters is free from the objections urged against all others; podeslre for stimulants can be in duced from their use, they cannot make drunk ards. and cahoot, under any circumstances,'bavo any but a beneficial effect, Hoof land’s German . Tonic Was compounded for those not Inclined to ex treme bitters, and is Intended for use In cases when some alcoholic stimulant ts required m connection with the Tonic properties of I he Bit ters, Each bottle of the Tonic contains one bot tle of the Bitters, combined with pure Bnnta Cruz Rum, and flavored hi such a manner that the extreme bitterness of the Bitters Is over come, forming a preparation highly agreeable and pleasant to the palate, and containing the medicinal virtues of the Bitters. 'I ho price of the Tonic Is SI s') per bottle, which many por sonsvtblnk too high. They must lake Into con sideration that the stimulant used is guaranteed to bo of a pure quality; A poor article could be furnished at a cheaper price, but Is It not better to pay a little more and have a good article? A medicinal preparation should contain non© but the best Ingredients, and they who expect to obtain a cheap compound will most certainly be cheated , They are the greatest known Remedies For LIVER COMPLAINT. DYSPEPSIA. NER VOUS DEBILITY, JAUNDICE, DISEASE OF THE KIDNEYS, ERUPTIONS OF THE SKIN, and all diseases aris ing from a Disordered Liver, Stomach,orlMPUßlTY OF THE BLOOD. Rendhe following symptoms Constipation, Flatulence,-Inward Piles, Full ness of Blood to the Head. Acidity of the Stom ach, Nausea, Heart-burn. Disgust for Food, Ful ness or-Welcht In the Stomach, Sour Eructa tions, Sinking or Flutiering at the Pit of the Stomach, Swimming of the Head, Hurried or. Difficult Breathing, Fluttering at the Heart, Choking or Sullocutlng Sensations when In ■ » Lying Posture, Dimness of Vision. Dots or webs before the Sight, Dull Pain lu Uie Head, Deficien cy of Perspiration, Yellowness of the Skin and Byes, Pain lu the Side, Back. Chest, Limbs, &o„ Sudden Flushes of Heat. Burning In the Flesh, Constantlmagiuings of Evil, and Great Depres- k 8,011 of Spirits. All these indicate Disease of the Liver or Digestive Organs combined with Im pure blood. The use of the Bitters or Tonic will soon cause the above symptoms to disappear,-and the pa tient will ccorae well and healthy. X»\ Hooflmidfs Gveek Oil, jjyhtninff Cure for alf kinds of Pain* ana Acne*. Applied Externally.— lt will cure all kind of Pains and Aches, such as Rheumatism, Neu ralgia, Toothache. Chilblains, Sprains. Bruises Frost Biles, Headaches. Pains in the Back and Loins, Pains In the Joints or Limbs, Stings of Insects, Ringworm; etc. „ Taken Internally.— lt will cure Kidney Complaints Backaches, Sick Headache, Cholic, Dysentery, Diarrhoea, Cnolera Infantum, Chole ra Morbus, Cramps aud Pains lu the Stomach, Fever and Ague*Coughs, Colds, Asthma, etc. nr, MooflmuVs Podophyllin, OR SUBSTITUTE FOR MERCURY LS. '/•wo Pills a Pose, The moil Powerful, yet innocent Vegetable Catharllo known. ■ It u not necessary to lake a handful of Ihew Pills to produce tho desired . net ijulctily and powerfully, 1 The Stomach, and Bowels of all Iranuiitles. xno nrincinul Ingredient is Podophyllin. or the Al coholic Extractor Mandrake, which la by times more Powerful, Acting, aud Searching, than the Mandrake itself. - Its peculiar-S°nll ob upou the Liver, cleaning It speedily from Ml oh tirnr>iinns with all the power of Mercury,yet free frmn S tne injurious results attached to the U Fo” f alVd t iaeaseMu which the uso of c Is indicated, these Pills will give entire satis i ption In every case. They never fail. ala canes of Liver Doinplulnls, Dyspepsia, and T-tppma Coatlvenesa, Dr. Hooflaud's German regulates the Liver, and elves strength, energy, nn 3Ccep°your Bowels active with the Pine, jnd sssrssws SsSMWBI PHILADELPHIA. Chas. M. Evans, Formerly 0. M. JAOKBON * CO. „ Tiiese remedy)! are for *al® bydrof*l«U, store* keennraand • medicine dealers throughout the UulFedi&al*.Canadas,SouthlArasrloa and the West ladles. P HhW*-iT I’3 a poor 'lttlo aprrowful baby, • For B’dgot Is ’way down stairs; My tltten had stached my finder, AndDolly*won’t §ay her p’ayers. I hnln’tseen _my; bootlful mamma Blaco over 'po " " " ” And I ain’t lior tunn’est baby No londor, for B’ldget said so. My raa’s dot anodcr new baby; Dod glved Itr-Ho did—yesterday; An* It klos, It kies, oh so defTnli I wls’ Ho would tako It away. I don’t want no “ sweet ’ittlo slater!” . I want my dood mamma. I do; I want her to tlss mo, and tlss me, 1 An' tall mo hor p’cclous Lulul. Ideas my bid papa will b’ln’ mo,, A'lttlo dood tltton some day, ‘ Here’s nurso wld ray mamma’s new baby I 'wls she would tato it away. Oh, oh, what lnnulh r yet finders ' ' It sees mo yite o* Its o.vos, Ideas wo will t|?ep It, ani dive it Some tandy whenever It kies, I dess I will dive It to ray Dolly To play wld raos’ every day; And I dess,. I dess—say, B’ldgot, As’ Dod not tato It away. Ipsdlanwms. THE IDYL OF RED (IULCH. Sandy was very drunk. He was lying under on azalea-bush, In prettv much the same attitude In which he‘had fallen some hours before.. How long ho had been lying there he could- not tell, and didn’t care; how long he should lie there was a matter equally Indefinite and un considered. A tranquil philosophy, born of hla physical condition, suffused and saturated his moral being. . The spectacle of a drunken man, and of this drunken man In particular, was not, T grl ve to say, of sufficient novelty In Red Gulch to attract attention. Earlier In the day some local satirist had erected a temporary tombstone at Sandy’s head, hearlncr the Inscrlptlrn, ‘Effects of Me- Corkle’a wlske.v, kills at forty *ida.? with a hand pointing to McCorkie’e saloon.- But this, T Imagine, was, like most local satire, personal; and was a reflection up on the unfairness of (he process rather than a commentary upon the Improprie ty of the result. With this facetious ex ception, Sandy had been undisturbed.— A wondering.mule, released from his pack, had cropped the scant herbage be side him, and sniffed curiously at -the prostrate than ; a- vagabond dog, with that deep sympathy which the ‘species have for drunken men, had licked his dusty boots, and curled himself up at hio feet, and lay there, blinking one eve in the sunlight, with a simulation of ‘dissi pation that was ingenious and ’ dog-like In Its implied flattery of the unconscious man beside him. Meanwhile the shadows of the pine trees had slowly swung around until they crossed the jond, and their trunks barred the open meadow with gigantic narallols of black and yellow. Little puffs of red dust, lifted by the plunging hoofs of pas sing teams, dispersed In a grimy shower upon therecrumbeutman. The sub sank: lower null Inwcr ; uun sun, r?nnuy stirred not. And then the repose of the philos pher was-dlsturhed, as other phi losophers have been, by the intrusion of an uupbll osophlcal sex; ‘Miss Mary,? as she was known to the little flock that she' had just dismissed from the log school house beyond the pines, was takingherafternoon walk. Ob serving an unusually fine cluster of blos soms on the azalea-hush opposite,’ she crossed the road to pluck It, picking her way through thered dust, not without cer tain fierce little shivers of disgust, and then felinecircnmlncntion. And then she came suddenly upon f?andy. Of course she uttered the little staccato cry of her sex. But when she had paid that tribute to her physical weakness she became overbold, and halted for a mo ment, at least six feet from this prostrate monster, with her white skirts gathered In her hand, ready for flight. Bnt nolthi. er sound nor motion came from the hush. With one little foot she then overturned the satlracal head-hoard, and muttered ‘Beasts !’—an epithet which probably at that moment, conveniently classified in her mind , the entire population of Red Gulch. For Miss Mary, helm? possessed of certain riggld notions of her own. had not, perhaps properly appreciated the demonstrative gallantry for which the Californian had been so justly celebra ted by hla brother Californians, and had. as a new-comer, perhaps, fairly earned the reputation of being 'stuck up.’ As she stood there she noticed, also that, theslant sunbeams were heating Sandy's head to what she judged to be an un healthy temperature, and that hjs hat was lying uselessly at his side. To'pick it up and to' place it over his face was a work requiring some courage, particular ly as his eyes were open. Yet. she did ft and made pood her retreat. But she was somewhat concerned, on looking back, to see that the hat was removed, and that Sandy was sitting up and saying some thing. The truth was. that in the calm depths ofSamlv’s mind lie wnssafisfied that the raysofthosun were beneficial and health ful ; that from childhood Be had objected to lying down in a hat; that no people but condemned fools, past, redemption— ever wore'dials; and that his right to dis pense wilh tliem when he/pleased was inalienable. -This was the statement of his irtnerconsciousness. Unfortunately, its outward expression was vague, being limited ton repetition of the following formula; ‘Bu’shine all rl f ! Wasaer raaar, eh.? Wnss up su’shine!’ Miss’Mary stopped, and, taking fresh courage from her vantage of distance, ns ked him if there was anything that he wanted. ‘Wnsaup? Wnsser mnar?’ continued Sandy. ‘Get up, you horrid man.” paid Mias Mary, now thoroughly incensed ; Get up add go home.' Sandy staggered to his feet. He was six feet high and Miss Mary trembled.— He started forward a few paces and then stopped. ‘Wass I go home for?’ he suddenly ashed with great gravity. ‘Go take a hath,’ replied Miss Mary— eyeing his grimy persoD''wlth great dis favor. To her Infinite dismay, Sandy sudden ly pulled off his coat and vest, threw them on the ground, kicked off his boots and, plunging wildly forward, darted headlong over the hill In the dlreotion of the river. •Goodness Heavens!—the man will be drowned!’ said MlssMary; and then with feminine Inconsistency, she ran back to the schoobhoupe. and locked herself In. That night, while seated at supper with her hostess, the blacksmith’s wife, It came to Mips Mary to ask, demurely, If her husband ever got drunk. ‘Abner, responded Mrs.Stldger reflectively, ‘lot s see: Abner hasn’t been tight since last ’lection.’ Miss Mary would have liked lo ask if he preferred lying In the sun on these occasions, and If a cold hath would have hurt him ; but this would have In volved an explanation, which she dldn t care to give. So she contented herself with opening her gray eyes widely at the red-cheeked Mrs. Stldger—a fine speci men of Southwestern efllrescence—and then dismissed the subject altogether.— The next day she wrote to her dearest friend In Boston: *T think I find the In toxicated portion of this community the least objectionable. I refer, my dear, to the men, of course. Ido not know any thing that could make the women toler able.’ Proprietor. INicaL LULU'S COMPLAINT. f In less than a week Miss Mary had for gotten this episode, except that her after • noon walks took thereafter, almost un consciously, another direction. She no ticed, however, that eVery morning a fresh cluster of azalea blossoms appeared among the flowers on her desk. This was not strange, asher-little flock were aware of her fondness for flowers, and Invaria bly kept her desk bright with anemones, •syringas, and Jupiues; but, on question .. norance of the azaleas. A few days later Master Johnny tttidger, whose desk was nearest to the window, was suddenly ta ken with spasms of apparently gratuitous laughter, which threatened the disci pline of the school? All that Miss Mary could get fro pi‘him was. that some one had been ‘looking in the winder.*— Irate and indignant, she sallied from her hive to do battle with the intruder., As . she turned the corner of the school house she came plump against the' quondam drunkard, now perfectly sobrer, and.iu expressibly sheepish and guilty-looking. These facts Miss Mary was not slow to take a feminine advantage of, In her present humor. But it was somewhat despise some faint signs of dissipation— was amiable-looking, in fact a kind of ’blond Ramson, whose corniColored, silk en beard apparently had never yet known the touch of the barber’s rozoror Delilah’s shears. Ro that the cutting speech which quivered on her ready tongue died on her lips, and she contented herself with re ceiving his stammering apology with su percilious eyelids and the gathered skirts of uncontamination. . When she reenter ed the school room, her eyes fell upon the azaleas with a new sense of revela tion* 'And then she Jaugh'ed, and the little people all laughed, and they -were all unconsciously very happy. It was on a hot day, and not long after this, that the two short-legged boys came to grief threshold of the school I withapoilof water, which they had la boriously brought from the spring, and that Mias Mary compassionately seized the pail and started for the spring herself. At the foot of the hill a shadow crossed her path, and a blue sbirted arm dexter? onsly, but gently relieved her of her burr den. Miss Mary was both embarrassed and angry. ‘lf you carried more of that for yourself,’she said spitefully, to the blue arm. without deigning to raise her lashes to its owner, ‘you’d do better.’ In the submissive silence that followed she regretted the spepch, and thanked him so sweetly at the door that he stumbled, which caused the children to laugh again —a laugh, in which Miss Mary joined, until the color came faintly in her pale cheek. The next day a barrel was mys teriously placed beside the door, and as mysteriously filled with fresh spring wa terVvery morning. Nor wns tin's superior young person withoutotherquiet attentions. ‘Profane BUl.’—driver of the RlumgulUon Stage— widely known in the newspapers for his gallantry' in invariably offering the box, seat to the fair, sex, bad excepted Miss Mary from this attention, on Hie ground that he bad a habit of ‘cussing’up grades,’ and gavfe her half the conch herself. Jack Hamlin, a gambler, having once silently ridden with her in the same coach, after ward threw a decanter at the head of a confederate for mentioning her name in a bar room. The overdressed mother of a pupil whose paternity was doubtful had often lingered" near the astute Vestal’s temple, never daring to enter Us sacred precincts, hut content to worship the priestess from afar. With such tntArvalH K |,^ p]ftVp r imr s u n sTi?n e° °lVr ie f twilights, and starlit nights passed oyer Red. Gulch. — .Miss Mary grew fond of. walking In the sedate and proner woods. Perhaps she believed, with Mrs. SMdger.that the bal samic oders of the firs ‘did her chest good.’ for certainly her cough was less frequent and her step was firmer; perhaps she had learned the unending lesson which the patient pines are never weary of ,repeating to heedful oHlstless ears. And so, one. day. she planned a picnic on Buckeye Hill, and took the children with her. Away from the dusty road, the straggling shanties, the yellow ditches, the clamor of restless engines, the cheap finery of soap windows, the deeper glitter of paint and colored glass, and the thin veneering which barbarism takes upon itself in such localities—with infinite relief was theirs! The last heap of rugged rock and clay passed, the last unsightlv chasm crossed—how the wait ing woods opaned their long .files to re ceive them I How the children, perhaps, because they bad not yet grown quite awnv from the breast of the bounteous Mother—th rew themselves down ward ,on her brown bosom with uncouth caresses, filling the nlr with their laughter* and how Miss Mary herself, felinely fastidious and intrenched as she was in the purity of spotless skirts, collars and cuffs —forgot all, and ran like a crested quail at the head of her brood, until, romping, laugh ing and panting, with a loosened braid of brownjmir. a hat hanging by a knot ted ribbon from her throatshe came sud denly and violently, in the heart of tlio forest, upon—the luckless Sandy!, The explanations, apologies, and not overwise conversation that ensued, need not be indicated here. It would seem, however, that Miss Mary had already es tablished some acquaintance with this ex-drunkard. Enough that ho was soon accepted as one of the party; tnat the children, with that quick intelligence that providence gives the helpless, recog nized a friend, and played witi>hla blond beard, and long, silken mustache, and took other liberties, as the helplesi are. apt to do. And when he had built a fire against a tree, and had shown them oth er mysteries of wood craft their admira tion knew no bounds. At the close of two such foolish,;idle, happy hours he found himself lying atthe feet of the schoolmistress, gazing dreamily in her face, as she sat upon the sloping hillside, weaving wreaths of laurel and syrlnga— lii very mucivthe same.attitude as he had Inin when they first met. Kor was the similitude greatly forced. The weakness of an easy, sensuous natnre, they had found a dreamy exhalation in liquor, itl« to ho feared was now finding au equal intoxication in love . I think that Handy was dimly uncon scious of this himself. I know he longed to he doing something, slaying a grizzly, scalping a savage, or sacrificing himself In pome way for the sake of this sallow faced. gray-eyed ’ schoolmistress. As I should like to present him In a heroic at lilude, X stay ray hand with great diffi culty at this moment, being only with held from Introducing such an episode hy a strong conviction that it does not usually occur at such times. And I trust that ray fairest reader, who remembers that. Inareal Crisis, It is always some un i n teresti n g stranger or u n roman tic pol ice man. and not Adolphus, who rescues, will forgive the omission. So they sat there, undisturbed,—the woodpeckers chattering overhead, and the-woices of the children coming pleas antly from the hollow below. What they said matters little. What they thought—which might have been inter esting—did not transpire. The wood peckers only learned how Miss Mary was. an orphan, too; how he came to Califor nia for excitement; how ho lived a wild life, and how he was trying to reform ; and other details, which, from a wood pecker’s view-point, undoubtedly must have seemed stupid, and a waste of time. But even in such trifles was the after noon spent; and when the children were again gathered, and Bandy, with a deli cacy which the schoolmistress under stood well, took leave of them quietly at the outskirts of the settlement, it had seemed the shortest day of her weary life. As the long, dry summer withered to its roots, the school term of Red Gulch —to use a local euphuism—‘dried up’ al so. In another day Mias Mary would he free; and for a season, at least. Rod Guloh would know her no more. She .was seated alone In her school house, bcrbbeek rest ing on her hand, her eye* half closed In h. .tear, to one of t\ Mary— clpllue—« ginf. H( and other Bopreoeti thoughts ilonr passi Into the : peckers. itioredlSl duelled, ol the threat lose day-dreams In which Alias 'o the danger of school dis dy In the habit of indul 'ua full of mosses, ferns, md memories. Hhe was with these and her own ( gentle tapping, at the leard; or translated itself bronco of far-off wood at Inst it asserted itself She started up with a id..opened,tihejdo.Q.r. 00, md a Woman, the self-as icity of whose dress wofe ist to her timid, Irreso- lntel fetilap wi ir woodlai nipbd v, tlm\ n ied uV|p remem Whm Jtlnctl , ibeek. m ibokl s x id anew copti 1! ing. iary root motbeiol she was inly fasti her to aertion am la slnglar lute bear! Miss Mi jognfzed at a glance tbe dubious m >f her anonymoua,,pupll. Perhaps si is disappointed,perhaps she was oi lidlous; but.as' she cold ly invited .... enter, Bhe ; Half uncons ciously settled her white.odffs and collar, and gathered closer herowu chasteskirts. It was perirps, for this reason that .the emharrasser stranger, nftqr a moment’s hesitation, lift her georgeous parasol op en and sticking In tbe dust beside th* door, and than sat down at the tanner bench. Her voice was ‘I heer» S fc > .- b ?Eapj _ . . to tbe Bov to-morrow, and I oouldn-t let you go until I.came to thank yon foryonr ’ kindness to my Tommy.’ , Tommy'. Mias Mary said, was a good \oy, and deserved more than the poor at tention she could give him. Thank yoiii miss; thank yei’ cried the stronger, brightening even through the color which Rod Gulch knew facetious ly ns her ‘war paint,’and striving, In em barrassment, to drag the long bench nearer the schoolmistress. ‘lthankyou, nliss, for that! and If T am his mother, (Here ain’t a sweeter, dearer, better boy Hies than him. And if I ain’t much as sats it, thar ain’t a sweeter, dearer, aug olef teacher lives than he’s got.’ Miss Mary, Billing primly behind her desk, with a ruler over her shoulder, op ened her gray eyes widely at this, but said ndthlng. ‘lt ain’t for you to be complimented by Ihe iike of me,l know,’she wentoii hur rled\y. ‘lt ain’t for me to be cornin’ here in broad day, to do it, either; but I come to ask a favor,—not for me, miss,—not for roe, but for the darling boy.’ Encouraged by a look In the young schoolmistress’s eye,-and putting her li lac gloved hands together, the lingers downward, between her knees, she went on. In a low voice: ‘You see, miss, there’s no one has any claim on the boy but nve, and ain’t the proper person tobringhim up. I thought some, last year, offending him away to ’Frisco to school, but when they talked of bringing a schoolma’am here, I wait ed till I saw you, and then I knew it was all-right, and I could keep my boy a little longer. And O. raiss, he loves you so much ; and if you could only hear him talk about you, iu his pietty woy, and if he could ask you what I ask you now you couldn’t refuse him.’ ‘lt is natural,’ she went on, rapidly, in a voice that trembled strangely between pride and humility —-it's natural that he should take to yon, rtilss, for his father, when T first knew him, wasa gentleman —and the boy must forget me. sooner or later—and so 1 ain’t a goin' to cry about that. For I come to ask you to take my Tommy,—God bless him for the hestest, sweetest ooy that lives—to—to —take him with you I She, had risen and caught the young girl’s band in her own, and had fallen on her knees beside her. •I’ve money plenty, and h’a^ll^ours where you can go and see him, and help him to—to—to forget his mother. Do with him what you like. The worst you can do will bo kindness to what he will .learn with me. Only take him out of this wicked life, this cruel place-rthis home of shame and sorrow. You will— I know you will*—won’t you ? You will —you must not, and cannot say no I You will make him as pure, as gentle as your self; and when he is grown up, you will tell him of his father’s name—the name that hasn’t passed my lips for years—the name of Alexander Morton, whom they call here‘Sandy!’ Miss Mary, do not take your hand away! Miss Mary, speak to me! You will take my boy ? Do not put your face from ,me. I know it ought not to look on such as me. Miss Mary, my God! he merciful!— she is leaving me!’ , Miss Mary had ripen, and, In the gather twilight, had felt her way to the open window. Shestood there, leaning against tho’casement, her eyes fixed on the last rosy tints that were fading from the western sky. There was still some of Its light on her pure young forehead, on her white collar, oa her clasped white hands, but all fading slowly away. The suppli ant had dragged herself—still on ,her knees—beside her. ‘I know It takes time to consider. I will wait here all night; but I cannot go until you speak. Do not .deny uje now. You will !—I see it iu your face,—such a face as I have ’seen in my dreams. I see it in your eyes, Miss Mary!—you will take my boy!’ The last red beam crept higher, suffus ed M!ss Mary’s eyes with something of its glory, flickered, and faded, and wenf out. The sun bad set oa Red Gulch. In the twilight and silence Miss Mary’s voice sounded pleasantly. ‘I will take the boy. Send him to me tb-night.’ ' The happy mother raised the hem of Miss Mary’s skirts to her lips. Bhewouldv have buried her hot face In its virgin folds, but she dared not. She rose to her feet. . . ‘Does—lbis man—know of your inten- lon ?’ asked Miss Mary, suddenly. No; nor cares. He has never even seen he child to know it.’ 'Go to him at once, —fo-night,—now! Tell him what you have done. Tell him I have taken hla child, and tell him —he must never see-see —the child again.— Wherever it may be, he must not come ; wherever I may take it, be must not fol low! There, go now* please. I’m wea ry. and—have much yet to do!’ They walked together to the door. On the threshold the woman turned* •Goodnight.’ Rlie would have fallen at.Mlss Mary’* feet. Butatthe same moment the young girl reached out her arms, .caught the sinful woman (o her own pure breast for one brief moment, and then closed and locked the door. It was a sudden sense of great respon ■sibility that Profane Bill took the reins of the Slumgulllon Btage the next morn ing, for the schoolmistress was one of his passengers. As he entered the high-road, in obedience to a pleasant voice from the ‘inside’ he suddenly reigned up his hor ses and respectfully waited, as ‘Tommy’ bopped put at the command of Miss Mary; ' ■ ‘Not .that bush, Tommy,—the next.’ Tommy whipped out his new pocket knife, and, cutting a branch from a tall azalea-bush, returned with it to Miss Mary. ‘All right now.’ ‘All right’ j . r. , And the stage-door closed on the Idyl of Red Gulch.— Francis Bret Barte. Not long ago a gentleman had occasion to reprove his little son, aged four and one-half years, for an offence which had on other occasions called forth words of correction. The parent closed with, ‘And now, Willie,T don’t want to speak to you again about this!’ which was promptly and very decidedly responded to as fol lows : ‘Well, pa, I doesn’t want you to 1’ An exchange tells thatsome workmen, while tearing away a building In Musca tine, a few days since, brought to light a peck of shoe pegs which had evidently bean stolen and secreted by the rats, in mistake for oats, when the room was oc cupied as a leather store, several years ago. Rather dry living those rats must have had, If they depended upon those pegs for subsistence. They must have pegged out In a short time. BOOTS.UNDER THE BED. Miss Lydia White had two lovers: Tom Green and Willie Jones. Both were good looking, well-to-do young mechanics, and both loved her devotedly, If their own vehement asser tions could be credited. Lj dla was In sometbingdra dilemmaeoncernlng them. She had no particular preference for either, of them, but she wanted to be -.married. soraetimo,and-Mr.-.Whlto..was. opposed to long courtships, and Aunt Jept assuring her that her bad and table linen, would get yellow by being packed away in the bureau, so long; and she also took frequent opporlupities of saying that 'none of the girls ever was single after they had reached the ago of 18; no, notaralnill’ And ns Lydia cotinted her years four more than 18, of course this latter insin* uailon of Aunt Jaue’s cut deeply. • , Lydia turned the matter over seriously In her mind, argued it with herself vro and con/," 7 *" • ~- in-some degree'romanlic, and she had Indulged in gorgeous dreams of mmrylncr a second Napoleon os to cour _T, *.» /act frYnere wuo«t»y quality that she especially admired In a man, it was bravery. 'When she said anything about this in the hearing of Tom and Willie, they begged her to put them to the test—they would joyfully die for her If she stood in need of such a sacrifice, they assured her over and over again.’ One .Sunday evening, as indeed was frequently the case, Jones , and Green both happenened to call at Lydia’s at about the same time. Lydia went out of the room about nine o’clock on the pretence of bringing a book of engravings, but she shortly re turned in great perturbation., ‘What Is it? What is the matter?’ cried the two.lovers in eager chorus. ‘Oh! dear me I'slghed Lydia, ‘such dreadful, dreadful thing! Who would have thought it In our peaceful commu nity ! Oh, Me. Jones, Mr. Green ! You can not think how glad—hoW relieved I am that you are here. I should be frightened to death were it otherwise!’ and she dung tirst to one, and then to the other with a confidence perfectly in fatuating. ‘Tell us what it is?’.cried Green. ‘Enlighten us as to the cause of, this emotion.’said Jones, who had been to the Chicken Valley Academy, two tens,’ and used some large words. *Oh, you are both so brave!* cried Lydia, admiringly; ‘I feel as if I was by an army!’ Green drew himself up to his full height, which was just five feet, and.it must be confessed that beside the Her culean Jones, he looked like a Bantam, rooster, beside a Shanghia. ‘Command me!’ said Green, ‘only let me do your bidding!’ • ‘Ask ray assistance’ said Jones,, ‘and it shall be given free us the s’treams give to the sounding ocean !’ •Hush!’ cried Lydia, ‘don’t speak so Imid! Ho may bear you, and take the alarm, and kill us all before you have a chance to capture him.’ •He? who? what?’demanded Jones In a tragic whisper. ‘Hush! for pity ? s sake,’* said Lvdia; ‘he’a up stairs in the spare room ! Under the bed! Father had a hundred dollars paid him yesterday for a cow, and this is a plan to rob the house. I saw his boots stick out from under the counter pane.’ ‘Good heavens I* cried Green, getting uvDiiiu joues. ‘And suuii mg uuvio, mu, - suiu Jjydla, ‘twelves, I utp sure'!’ ‘Jupiter! what a giant he must be!’ said Tom. • - ‘Tom ! oil Willie! protect me!’cried Lydia, pathetically, and they both pro tested they would .shield her with the last drop of their blood. ‘Then go up stairs and seize the villain,’ said Lydia. ‘Yoii had better go first,* said Jones ‘I —don’t know the way.' ‘Nor-I,’ said Green, ‘and you’re the biggist; it belongs to you to lend on*’ ‘I will show,you the way,’ said Lydia. ' Aud the two gallant young men re luctantly followed her up stairs. She opened the door of the spare chamber softty, and they saw the boots very dis linctly; a most extremely dirty pair of cowhides, which looked os though their owner had tramped through 20 miles of swauip, aud made no acquaintance with rugs or scrapers, afterwards. ‘A—a mighty big man he must- be, with such a pair of feet,* said Jones. ‘Hadn’t we better call your father and Mr. Berry, the hired man ? ‘I think we hud,’ said Green timidly. . ‘I don’t,’ said Lydia, decidedly. ‘See! I believe the .boots arermbovlug. Oh, goodness me!’ And, sis she screamed, Jones and Green simultaneously made a rush for the door. Jones stumbled over a wash stand , ami wont headlong to the foot of the stairs, washstand and aIK And, Lydja, by clinging to thoskirtsof Air. Green’s coat, kept him flora following his rival. ‘What in the deuce is to pay here?’ asked jack Berry* appearing ou.the scene in his shirt and trowsers, and his light curly hair standing out all oyer his head, like the bristles of a lamp chimney brush. Lydia points to the boots. ‘Don’t touch him,’ whined Green. He may have a pistol or something about him, and hurt somebody.’ ‘You chicken livered whelp!’ cried Ber ry,‘you’re afraid .to see what’s behind the boots, are ye? Wall, I’ll show yod.’ And Berry seized the frightful objects and gave a pull so strong that he W:ent over backwards on the floor, with a boot in either hand. ‘Jupiter!’ he cried, I never saw any boots come off* so easy us that. Let’s see the feet.’ Aud diving under the bed, lie lilted the counterpane,* and disclosed — nothing. 'But where is the owner of tbtfboots ?’ cried he, scratching a bruise on his nose, and looking infinitely puzzled. 'Here!’ said Pa White, appearing at the door, ‘I am the owner; and here I’ve been hearing this terrible noise for the last 10 minutes, and thinking there was a fire over to the corner. But not a sign of my boots could I find. Who.put them there, Lydia?’ But Lydia was bathing Berry’s nose. Green and Jones had sense enough to see that they were de iron. Aud they took their departure with out any elaborate farewells* 'By jinks,’ said Green to Jones, on the way home, I’ve got an Idea: It’s my opinion that jade of n girl put them boots there herself, on purpose to try ua.’ 'Of course she did, said Jones, sulkily; women are as deceitful as the devil*’ Can a Woman Keep a Secret ?—The Nineteenth Century, a periodical publish ed in Charleston, thus treats this much' mooted point: * Men say women can’t keep a secret.— It’s just reverse—women can, men cant. Women carry with them secrets that would kill any man. Woman never tells; man always does. Woman suffers and dies; man blabs and lives. Man cannot keep n secret; woman cannot make it known. What is sport to the man is death to the woman. Adam was a sneak. Eve would have kept theapple a secret. Be ye faithful; Who ever beard a woman talk of her lover’s fiascos ? Everybody has heard a man gossip.— Men are coarse in their club room talk; women r.lined in their parlor conversa tion. Who ever heard of a woman tell ing.of her lovers? Who has not listened to tho'dissipation of.men; men boast; women don't. Women never tell tales out of school; men'are always blabbing. ho down with another old adage. Wo man can keep a secret, and, her ability to do so is proved by the conduct of a St. John (New Brunswick) girl, who did not tell her lover she was worth four mlllons In bur own right until after her marriage. 5T.-NO. 50. Anecilofo of lien Wade, i A decent regard for truth compels us to admit that reverence for exalted po > sltlon is not characteristic of the polltl f oa| society of Washington. And If ever . there was a.mnn who regarded with en i tire indifference the mere formal conven tionalities of society, it'ls the lute acting • Vice-President, ex-Senator Wade, of , Ohio, During, tholmpeaohment trial, i. have ocour , rep between himself and Chief-justice’ Chase,’ who presided. The session was to'open at twelve o'clock,m., and it was within twenty minutes of that time, and " the Chief Justice had npt made his ap pearance in the Vice-President’s room, which for the time, was used by Mr. Chase as roblng-room. The hands of the clock crept slowly but surely nearer tbe figure "Xtl,," when suddenly tbe door was thrown open, and in stalked (he Chief Justice. He walked hurriedly to I the wardrobe; but his robe of office was j summoned; this, that, and, the other I room, desk, and drawer were examined, I but no robe was discovered. I In the midst of this excitement, tbe I grim, honest old hero, Ben Wade, made I his appearance, with a nod aud a grunt, I to the flurried occupants of the room. Ho I walked to the hat-rack, and after deposi- I tlrie his hat went to a sofa on the other I side of the room; to leave his umbre[laln a safe place. Tne excitement was still I going on, when Wade, after learning the I' cause of the trouble, withoutenterlng In to the flurry of the hunt, leaned over the I sofa and with his umbrella hooked up an uncertain-looking black bundle. Seeing I it was the long-looked-for robe he held I it toward Mr. Chase with, “ Here, Chase, here's yer darned old frock you’ve been ■ making such a fuss about." The pages smiled a smile. The Chief Justice was, too overjoyed to do anything but speed- I iiy get inside of Ills robe; and if on that ■ morning tbe heated, crowded audience saw the Chief Justice look’redder than usual ihey no.w now the cause, of it. It I was all about that “ frock.”— Editor's Drawer, in Harper's Magazine for April How Poor People Hive.—Alexander 11. gets $8,250,nn0, or $2-5,000 per day. and has the run of,h!s entire dominions, in* eluding half of Europe, and one-third of Asia. Francis Joseph receives $4,000,000 a year, or $10,004 per day, with a.large al lowance of- bee. Joe has a. family, and the'entertainment given Prussia proved so expensive, that a little retrenchment has been found necessary. He lias sev eral pleasant residences In the city and country, witli out houses, stables, wood houses, etc., and Is very comfortably fixed up- Frederick William is hot paid cju.ito as well as his neighbor over In Austria, but manages, to keep nn appearances on $3,- 000 000 a year, or $8,218 per day. He is said to suffer for want of funds, and 1s forced to economize. Victor Emanuel manages to get along in Italy on $2,400,000 a year, or $7,849 per day, hilt tills is owing to the fact that the climate being hiild in his dominions he Is able to wear cotton clothes. Queen Victoria receives only $1,250,000 a .year, or $6,270 per day; but she owns several large dairy,farms, and her butter and milk command the highest prices in the London market; besides, she supplies the best families with vegetables. She has married several of her daughters to men of line incomes, who help her to pay .1..,- Kino nuau sue nuus uersetr preßseii for change. King William of Prussia Is not lav ish on personal apparel. His valet re cently gave him a hint of substituting a new coat' for a garment which he had worn two or three years longer than lie ought, and was thereupon summoned to the royal presence. ‘Where is ray old coat, Jean?’ ‘I have taken it away, your majesty; it is ho Ibnger fit to be worn.’ tWhat are you going to do with it, Jean 7’ . •I believe I am going to sell'it.’ ‘How much-do you think you will gel for it ?’ This was hard to answer, for no ‘.old do” Jew in the world would give a dime for the coat. Jean, therefore hes itated for a moment, and then answer ed : ‘X believe I shall get about a dollar, for it, your majesty.’ The king took his pocket book from the table, opened it, and handed Jean the dollar, ‘Here is your dollar, Jean,’ said he. ‘That coat is so comfortable j bring it back to me; I want it yet.’ Love op tub Beautiful.— Place any young girl under the care of kind hearted women, and she unconsciously to herself grows into a graceful lady. Place a boy in the establishment of a thorough going and straight forward business man, the boy becomes a self-reliant, practical busi ness man. Children are susceptible and reasonable creatures, and circumstances, scenes and actions always impress. As you Influence them, not by arbitrary rules, nor by stern example alone, but a thousand other ways that speak through beautiful forms, pretty pictures, ’etc., so they will grow. -Teach your children, then, to love the beautiful. Give them a corner In the garden for flowers; encour age them to put it in the shape of banging baskets; show them where they can best view the sunset; rouse them up in tbn morning, not with the 'stern “ time to work," but with the enthusiastic ‘‘ See the beautiful sunrise!" Buy fur them pretty pictures; and encourage them to decorate tbeir rooms in his.pr her child ish way. Give them an Inch, and they will go a in lie. Allow them the privilege and they will make yourhome beautiful. Once upon a time there lived a jovial Dutchman, whose name was Hans Von BhrimpetlfTel. He had a wife; He also bad a little grocery, where beer and such personal property woa sold. He gave credit to a parcel of dry customers, and kept his book with a piece of white chalk on- the headboard of the bedstead. Oiie day Mrs. Shrimpetifiel, in a neat fit, took It upon herself to clean the house and things. So she did, and she cleaned tho headboard, and with soap and water settled the old man’s accounts by wiplne away every chalk mark. Pretty soon, before long, the old vender of things came Into his house and saw whut ruin his frau bad wrought. Then he said; ‘Mein Gott, Frau Bhrimpetillel, what for you make a ruined man of me. I guess not? You make vlpeaway nil dem name and figures what I owe dem fellers what’s going to pay me before they get ready, and I lose'mores as swei hundred tollarsl’ His frau left the room iu fear and disgust. When she returned, .he had recovered the headboard with chalk murks, Then said she: ‘Kaunas, you l|ave made thorn all right again, don’t it?' ‘Well, mine tearcr frau, I make the figures all right, but I put down some petter names as dem old fellows vot you vlpedout!' An exchange says that an editor get ting tired of paying printers, resolved to put his own shoulder to the wheel. Here Is a specimen of his efiort at setting type: ~wa tqlnq mo sqAli do Sosj og our O.un settjug qejenfjej—Painters may tAIK aqou)' IT bo|Ug pllgcult xO agt tApa bnj Mg ponj gxpsilenco B ucq DifilonhA?.’ A good old Quaker lady, after listen ing to an extravagant yarn of a country shop keeper as |ung an her patience would allow, said to-him: ‘Friend, what a pity It Is a'sln to lie: It seems so necessary to thy happiness!’ Bates for 2l&DcrtiflhTg, advKRnsxMXKTa wui b* usertMl at Teh cent per lipe for the .first Ipsertioiv and v flva . cent per line for each frapeegaeni inserUotte Qttmx* ;eri7 balf-yearly,aod yearlyftdT«rtU«aj elite in ertod at *liberal redaction on the above ratea Advertieemenu sbonld be by the Gash. Wood sent wlthonfany length of tlma specified for publication, they will be continued dntllbrdered oat and charged accordingly. I JOB PRINTINO. , cUnns, HAHDBZZ&9. ozhooziAsa. andeyery other er description of Job and Cabo PWntlng. ©Mia ann Enua. Summer Is now hero.; . . . i The season of picnice Is codling., Our young folks will improve it. To Mrs. Stanton’s lecture, »iVhy Not?’ a lady replies, ‘O, because/ Hebe lies my wife Molly; let her Ue; she found repose, and so did 11 . The inhabitants of‘Bardlna are iiot Sardines. Tam transported to see yod,’ as the I convict said to the kangaroo. . Going out with the tide the brlilal party Out of church'. It makes a great difference In this world whether you put “Dr.” before dr after a man’s name. Cattle are dumb beasts, but by getting themselves together in larva' rnimii- Punch says;’what (n woman is called curiosity, In a man.la grandiloquently magnified into a spirit of inquiry.’ A wao says of a very prominent militia general, that Ills sword was never drawn but once—and then in a rafflel A Western paper has an article ‘on tbe cure of Idiots.’ A cotemporary says that paper is always dragging his family affairs into public. ■ What Is tlie difference between a church organist and tbe influenza? One stops the nose, and the other knows the , stops. y Why was Pharaoh’s daughter like w successful stock broker iu a money panto? Because she got a little prophet from the. rushes on tbe banks. That woman was a philosopher who,, when sbe.lost her husband, said she bad one great consolation—she knew where be was o’nlgbts. . The ladles give as a reason for their marrying for mouey, that they now very seldom find anything else In a man that is-wortb having. ; It is a bad sign when a preacher tries to drive home his logic by thumping the desk violently with his olenohed hand. His arguments are so-llst-ICal. 1 A i*nvHici an once advised Dr. Sidney Smith to lake a walk-upon an empty stomach.” 11 Whose stomach ?” asked the inveterate wit. The chap who took the thread of life to sew the rent of a house, bos gone aild invented a patent paint for cross-eyed needles. Many of our young Indies paint their faces to appear beautiful, but they cannot compete with nature. She does it In a manner that needs no help. A young man sitting by his girl, with whom he was quarreling, remarked, in a Polulunt'manner, that she was nothing- She said she wouldn’t admit that,’but aha would say that she was next to nothing. ’ There is said to be an organization of young females in Mifflintown, the object of which is to induce the young men to discontinue the habit of wearing mous taches. They tickle so. ■Do you think that raw oysters are healthy?’ asked a lady of her. physician. ‘Yes,’ be replied, ‘I never knew one to complain of beingout of health ini all my life,’ -Aw inalanoo la reported of tlio direful consequences resulting to a young lady by reason of the sadden stoppage of gam chewing. She has now fits, and in one of them bit off the lip of a lover. 'My dear,’ said a gentleman to a young lady to whom be thought to be married; ■do you intend to make a fool of me?’— ‘No,’ replied the lady; 'nature has saved me the trouble.’ A tanner, having married a butcher’s daughter, tho belis were rung in honor of the occasion. It was asked what .the bells -wore rung for. 'Only a union be tween skin and bone,’ Was the answer. A young doctor in a now settlement, on being asked to contribute :tpward on* closing and ornamenting the ..cemetery of the village, very coolly .remarked that if he filled it he thought he should be doing bis part. Two sailors were sitting on the gun-. Wale of their ship drinking grog. ‘This is meal and drink,’ said Jack, and fell overboard as be was speaking. ‘And now you have washing and lodging,’ cooly remarked Tom. • An Indianapolis gentleman’s claim for livorceis based on the ground that when lie married, four weeks ago, bis wife’s liair was block, but now it Is red enough to entitle her to a front rank in a tbroh light procession. 'SirAr.i. I help you to alight ?’ said a * young gentleman, addressing a bouncing country girl, who was preparing to Jump from a carriage iu front of tils office. *1 thank you, sir, sweetly replied the girl, ■but I don't smoke,’. A jewelry establishment in Indian apolis was alssed the other day, and the following placard In large, painted letters, explained the cause of the suspension of business: 'On a Jury. Will be back When' we hang the cuss.’ • ■■ Obituary notices are often uqcon scluusly satirical, as in this,, written of an old citizen of Koabvill .; ‘HowaSo most exemplary citizen and Christian. He had been lour times' married, and ho died iu perfect resignation.’ A lady interviewed a Governor on a railroad qiioßtlon. He asked her which aide she Was on, when elm replied that she wosou the fence. The Governor then gallantly responded; ‘Madam, I. wish no more agreeable position than to be sitting by your side.’ . . A lawyer ordering a tailor tb pur chase cloth, and make for him d suit of i clothes, paid for them whop completed, with a check, reading: ‘Pay. to — —— or '■ order, twenty-nice dollars, being for pro fessional services In a suit, brought for me by him, and conducted to asuccestr ful ‘clothes.” A man wbo.was annpyed by .clerks in the Custom house, was advised, te ppm plain to,the collector, which he did, pad eald : ■ SIP, I have been abused here'by some of the rascals In this place, and 1 came to tell you of it, os I understand you are the principal!’ ~ | A Yankee manufacturer, desiring to stock bis pond with hlack boss, wrote to Qteeley, to inquire the best way,to hatch them- The philosopher replies: ‘By all 1 means set the eggs under a Southdown . hen. But if you .want baas.fpr eatlqg, the best way la to set out an orchard .of bass-wood trees, and pluck.the fruit as it matures 1’ j ‘ Now, gentlemen,’ said Sheridan to bis guests, as the ladles'left'the room, * lot us understand each other. Are wo to drink like men or beasts.?’ Somewhat indignant,the guests exclaimed, * Like men, of course.’ ‘Then,’ he replied,, !we are going do get jolly .druuk, for. brutes never drink more chap they want.’ There was a deacon in New England by the name,of Hay, by trade A cooper. One Sunday he heard of a number of boys playing In front of bis house, and went to atoplhelr Sabbath breaking.— Assumlpg a grave countenance, be said, to them ; ‘Boys, do you know what day this la?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ immediately replied one of the boys, ‘Deacon Day, the cooper.’ ' A young lady at Versailles. Kentucky, was saved by her chignon from having her brains dashed out the other day, as she fell from a third-story window; whe-, ther tho chignon protected the bratps that were actually there, or .whether peo ple who wear chignons haven’t much' brains to be dashed out, is not quite set* tied to the satlstaotlon of the neighbors,