'''.l gt.:...1111iii_:...;.'..:1 - li,-... -. . -..i.....i.,:'LL'")::::::...;:"'4 SAMUEL WRIGHT, Editor and Proprietor. VOLUME XXVIII, NUMBER I.] PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING. 'Office in Northern Central Railroad Corn- Er . any's Building, 21,0ra - west corner Front and [Walnut streets. Tams of Subscription. ttine Copy per annum, if paid in advance , 4 . 4 4 . if not paid within advance, months from commencement of the year, 200 4 4:Dlez•zi.tisa C3c113-5.. No subscription received for a less time than six Months; and no paper will be discontinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the pub lisher. Mr . Money may be remitted by mail at the publish. 'er's risk. Rates of Advertising. I square [6 lines) one week three weeks, 44 each subsequent insertion, 10 1 " [l2 lines] one week, So three weeks, 1 00 each subsequent insertion, 25 Larger advertisements in proportion. A liberal discount will be made to quarterly, hal_ yearly or yearly advertisers,wbo are strictly confined to their business. DR. S. ARMOR, I_IOMTOPITHIC PIITSICILIN. Office and Residence in Locust street, opposite the Post °time; OFFICE PRIVATE. Columbia, April 25, 1857-13 m Drs. John Ar. Rohrer, ' APE associated in the Practice of ,lied Hclue. Col umbia, April Ist, 18584 f DR. G. W. MIFFLIN, DENTIST, Locust street, opposite the Pos Office, Columbia, Pa. Columbia. May 3, 1856. H. M. NORTH, TTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW. Columbia, Pa. Collections, promptly made, in Lancaster and York Counties. Columbia, Ma•: 4,1850 J. W. FISHER, Attorney and Counsellor at Law, ColumbiaC2Seca-uocribizt., Pct.. ,September 6, 1.756-lf GEORGE J. SMITH, WHOLESALE and Retail Bread and Cake Baker.—Constantly on hand a vanety of Cakes, too numerous to mention• Crackers; Soda, Wine, Scroll, and Sugar Biscuit; Confectionery, of every description, tee., Sc. LOCUST STREET, Feb..2, , 56. Between the Bank and Franklin House. B. ALPPOLD & CO., mm GENERAL FORWARDING AND COMMIS diaeaSlON MERCHANTS, SA L, RECEIVERS OF COA LA ND PRODUCE, And Deliverers on any point on the Columbia and Philadelphia Railroad. to York and Baltimore and to Pittsburg; DEALERS IN COAL FLOUR AND GRAIN, WHISKY AND BACON, have just received a large lot of Monongahela Rectified IVhiskey, from Fattsburg, of which they will keep a supply constantly on hand. at low prices. Nos. 1, 2 and 6 Canal Basin. Columbia, January 27.1854. 0 ATS FOR SALE By TILE BUSHEL, or in larger qnantitics at Nos. 1. 7 2 & 6 Canal Basin. B. F. APPOLD & CO. Columbia, January 26, JEW Just Received, 5 n BUS. PRIME GROUND NUTS, at J. F. v SMITH'S Wholesale and Retail Confectionery establishment, Front street . , two doors below the Washington house, Columbia. [October 25, 1956. Just Receive& 2 0 SUDS. SHOULDERS, 15 TIERCES HAMS. For sale by U. F. APPOI.D & CO.. Nos. 1, 2 and 6, Canal Basin. Columbia, October 18,1650. Rapp's Gold Pens. CONSTANTLY on hand, an assortment of these celebrated PENS. Persons in want of a good article are invited to call and examine them. Columbia, June 30, 1855. JOHN FELIX. Just Received, LARGE LOT of Children's Carriages, Gigs, Rocking Horses, Wheelbarrows, Propel. ere. ornery Swings, &e. GEORGE, J. SMITH. April 19, 1856. Locust street. riFIINA and other Fancy Articles. too numerous to V mention, for sale by G. J. SMITH, Locust street, between the Bank and Franklin !louse. Columbia, April 19, 1856. THE undersigned hare been appointed agents for the sale of Cook & Co's GUTTA PER- A PENS, warranted not to corrode; iu e laslicity they almost equal the quill. SAILOR & ItIcDONALD. Columbia Jan. 17, 1857. Jut Received, A BEAUTIFUL lot of Lamp Shades, viz: Tie torine, Volcano, Drum. Butter Fly. Red Roses and the new French Fruit Shade, which can be see, in the window of the Golden Mortar Drug Store. November 29, 19.56. ALARGE lot of Shaker Coro, from the Shaker settlement in New York. Just received, at H. SUYDAM do SON'S Columbia, Dec. 20,1656. HAIR DYE'S. Jones' Batchelor's, Peter's and Egyptian haw dyes, warranted to color the hair any desired shade, without injury to the skin. For sale by R. WILLIAMS. May 10, Front it., Columbia, Pa. FIRE dr. TROMPSOIn justly celebrated Com mercial and other Gold Pens—the hest in the market—just received. P. SHREINER. Columbia,April 29,1855. EXTRA FAMILY FLOUR, by the barrel, for sale by 11. F. A PPOLD & CO, Columbia, Ju no 7. Nos. 1,2 and 0 Canal Basin. WWI should any person do without a Clock when they can be had Co r 81.50 and upwards At SHREINER'S? Columbia, Aril ^..8,18555 SAPONEF[ER, or Concentrated Lye, for ma king Soap. 1 lb. is sufficient for one barrel of soft Soap or 11b.for9 lbs. Hard Soap. Full direr• lions will be given at the Counter for making Soft, Hard and Fancy Soaps. For sale by R. WILLIAMS. Colombia, March 31,1855. ALAUB lot of Baskets, Brooms, Buckets Brushes, &c,, for sale by H. SUYDAM & SON. WEIKEL'S Instantaneous Yeast or Baking Powder, for sale by H. SUYDAM & SON. a DOZEN BROOMS, 10 BOXES CHEESE. For z sale cheap, by B. F. APPOLD & CO. Columbia, October 25, 1856. A SUPERIOR article of PAINT OIL. for sale by R. WILLIAMS. Prom Street, Columbia, Pa. May 10,1E50 JUST RECEIVHD, a large and welt selected variety of Brushes, consisting in Part or Shoe, Heir , Cloth. Crumb, Nail, list and Teeth Brushes. and for Kate by R. WILMA MB, Front street Columbia. Pa. March 22, '5O ASUPERIOR article orTONIC SPICE BITTERS, suitable for Rote Keepers, for sale by R. WILLIAMS. Front street, Columbia. May 10,1858 FRESH ETHEREAL OIL, always on hand. and Co sale by R. WILLIAMS, May 10,16.56. Front Street, Columbia, Pa. TEST received, FRESH CAMPHENE, Paid for sale tr by R. WILLIAMS. May 10,1856. Front Street, Columbia, Pa. 10 00 " s ' Ner City Cured Herne and Shoulders, Just received and for sale by Feb. 241857. SUYDABI & SON. tirfstrg. The Birth-day of Agassiz [The following lines by Longfellow, were written in commemoration of the fiftieth birth-day (May 28. 1857) of the distinguished naturaligt, and were read among friends at a birth-day dinner, which they will long keep in fresh remembrance ] 31 50 It was fifty years ago, In the pleasant month of May, In the beautiful Pays de Vaud, A child in its cradle lay. And Nature, the old nurse, took The child upon her knee, Saying, "Here is a story book Thy Father has written for thee., CEI "Come wander with me," she said, 'lnto regions yet untrod, And read what is still unread In the manuscripts of God." And he wandered away and away, With Nature, the dear old nurse, Who sang to him night and day The rhymes of the universe. And whenever the way seemed long, Or his heart began to fail, She would sing amore wonderful song, Or tell a more marvellous tale. So she keeps him still a child, And will not let him go, Though at times his heart beats wild, For the beautiful Pays de Yawl; Though at times he hears In his dreams The R anz des Vaches of old, And the rush of monntain streams From glaciers clear and cold; And the mother at home says, "Hark! For his voice I listen and yearn; It is growing late and dark, And my boy does not return!" Somebody Somebody's courting somebody, Somewhere or other to-night. Somcboby's whispering to somebody, Somebody's listening to somebody, Under this clear moonlight. Near the bright river's flow, Running so still and slow, Talking so soft and low, She sits with somebody Pacing the oceates shore, Edged by the foaming roar, Words, never breathed before, Sound sweet to somebody. Under the maple tree, Deep though the shadow be, Plain enough they can sec— Bright eyes has somebody No one tits up to wait, Though she is out so late— All know she's at the gate Talking with somebody Tip-toe to parlor door— Two shadows on the floor— Moonlight reveals no more— Susy and somebody. Two, sitting side by side, Float with the ebbing tide. "Thus, dearest, mu y we glide Through life," says somebody Somewhere, somebody Makes love to somebAy, To-night. grirrtivto. My Daughter's Marriage. BY ALPHONSE SANET. Every ono has heard of the tulip mania of Holland. When at its height the precious bulbs were known to fetch one hundred thou sand francs apiece, till at last the Dutch gov ernment thought it expedient to interfere. Nevertheless, for many a day every new va riety obtained by cultivation excited the greatest enthusiasm. In the centre of green meadows studded with populous villages, many-colored plea sure-houses and wind-mills, and intersected by canals along which ships pass in full sail as on the ocean, stands the city of Harlem, the capital of North Holland. A villa, just outside this town, was, about the close of the last century, the residence of Mr. Deckers. The house, built in the form of an Indian pagoda, and covered with green tiles glist ening in the sun, stood on a little eminence in the centre of shady gardens, where distant views had been contrived with infinite care. The gardens were planted with exotic trees, and watered by an artificial river that mean dered among the fragrant groves, through which the eye would glance now on a Tar tar kiosk made of bamboos, then on a Chinese pavilion painted in bright colors and sur mounted by its bat and bells, and then again on a rude cabin such as are built by the hlo lucca Islanders. To this place Mr. Deckers had retired on the death of his wife, leaving his business to the management of his son; and here, from morning to evening, during the fine season, he was busy with his men sifting the soil of flower beds, watering and ticketing his tulips of which •he boasted to have the finest col lection in all Holland. One warm afternoon in the month of June 1785, Mr. Deckers, standing in the centre of a dressing room hung with garnet velvet and richly furnished in the style of the time, was giving orders to some half dozen lackeys who, hurrying about with a bustling air, were finishing his toilet. It was easy to ' divine that he was preparing for some im portant business. In fact, his son was now old enough to marry, and his ambitious father was on the point of going to solicit for him the hand of Miss Van Selkirk, the daughter of a banker ut Harlem. Mr. Van Selkirk, the father of the young lady in ques tion, was one of the most influential persons in the country, for in addition to the parti ciple Van which he placed before his name, he was mayor of the town, banker to the stadt holder, manager of the affairs of the India Company, and extremely rich. - An alliance with this family had been for . some time the neplus 2t/tra of the ambition of Deckers. For years past he had spared neither money, pains, nordiplomacy to bring the affair to a favorable issue, and we leave the reader to imagine his delight when he was at last informed that Van Selkirk, charmed by the personal qualifications of, the young man, had made an appointment to meet the father that very day at four o'clock, to come to an understanding on the matrimonial business. After calling for his gold snuff-box and gold-headed cane, and getting his ruffles and shirt frill perfumed with vanilla, the old gentleman tucked his cocked hat under his arm, and, followed by two footmen in full livery, directed his steps along his garden walks towards a pretty gondola inlaid with colored wood, and manned by six lusty rowers, which was in waiting at the foot of the steps of the white marble landing place beside of the artificial river. The boat shot away like an arrow, preceded by a runner, who, wand in hand, trotted along the bank; it glided through the windings of the river, and on coming to the spot where it joined the Harlem canal, the running footman opened the gate that closed the entrance, and the boat went on towards the town. An hour after, Mr. Deckers, having land ed, walked through the streets of Harlem preceded and followed by his attendants, and returned the salutations on either hand as he passed, until, on coming to one of the narrow streets near the market, he suddenly stopped in an ecstacy of delight before a low, wooden house with a first floor pro jecting over a lower one, and having all its outside joists embellished with beautiful wreaths sculptured by some artist of the sixteenth century. But it was neither the architecture of the house nor the ornaments on the joists which attracted his admiration;' for his eye was fixed on the ground floor oc cupied by the shop of a shoemaker named Peter Schwartz, as announced by a sign board over the door. In the winduw of this shop—a window glazed with round panes of green glass having knobs in the centre like the bottom of a bottle—stood a Japan' flower-pot, in which, waving on its delicate stem, was a superb semi-double tulip, whose glossy pearl-gray petals were relieved by arabesques of the brightest carmine; and it, was because this tulip, superior in beauty to any possessed by the wealthy amateur, was a new variety, that Mr. Deckers stop ped. How could such a treasure have got into the shop of the artizan? Forgetting at once the flight of time and the object of his walk, he entered the shoemaker's shop and inquired where he had obtained that tulip. "Ah, ald Mr. Deckers," gayly exclaimed' Schwartz, on hearing this question; "that astonishes you, eh? Well, then, it is one of my own raising." "Of your raising!" "Why not? That is a specimen of what I can do." "But what is the use of such a flower to you? These, I fancy, would be far more serviceable," and he drew a handful of gold coins from his pocket and laid them un counted on the shoemaker's stall. (Ildrpres Weekly "So, so! a few pieces of gold for a flower uniquo in the world!" repled Peter; "in deed you are too generous, and I am bound to thank you very much." "Are you dissatisfied with the amount? I will quadruple the sum." ".No! my tulip is my own, and I won't sell it." "Come, say how much you want, for I must have the flower, cost what it may." "Well then, it depends on yourself wheth er you have it or not!" And laying down his work, ho took the millionaire by the hand in a most mysterious manner, and then putting his forefinger to his lips to re quest silence, he led him to the end of the dark shop; when there ho cautiously open ed a door which turned noiselessly on its hinges, and raised the corner of a tapestry curtain which was drawn before the en trance. Mr. Deckers saw a. small room hung all over with tapestry similar to that before the door, and furnished with a degree of richness most extraordinary for an artizan's dwelling. Through the lead-trellised win dow of the little apartment a gay sunbeam had just found its way and glistened on the gold and enamel of some jewels laid on a what-not, throwing as it passed a warm mellow tint on the flaxen hair of a young maiden, so intently engaged with her needle that she neither saw nor heard anything of the interloper. "Well! what say you to that?" asked Pe ter Schwartz, as lie let fall the curtain, with the air of a miser closing the entrance to his hoards. "What a lovely creature!" answered Mr. Deckers, for a moment forgetting the tulip, so absorbed was he in this charming vision. "Well," said Peter, "that is my only daughter; she and my tulip are my two treasures, and one shall not go without the other." Ms guest took one of the oak stools that stood in the shop, and sat down on it with- out saying a word, to hear what the shoe maker meant. "You, Mr. Deckers, continued the latter, "have a son who is old enough to marry, and the angel you have just seen will soon be nineteen years of age. Now, present your son to my daughter, and if the young folk are pleased with each other, let us marry them; this tulip shall be my child's wedding portion." Mr. Deckers, on hearing this proposal, bounded from his seat and rushed out, giv- "NO ENTERTAINMENT IS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING." COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, JULY 11, 1857. ing the shoemaker a look of ironical con tempt. But Peter, without being at all moved, continued with a significant shake of the head. "Yes, Mynheer Deckers, you may take it or not, as you please; and let it also be clearly understood that your son must be to my daughter's taste, for her happiness is my :thief object." On leaving the shoemaker's shop, Mr. Deckers suddenly remembering the object of his journey, pulled out his watch; but as he saw that the appointed hour had long past; instead of going further he went back to his country house. Yet all along the road, and the whole evening, the memory of Peter Schwartz's tulip was uppermost in his mind, and all night he did nothing but dream of these rival flowers. Some twenty years before, Peter had es poused a young woman of remarkable beau ty; but, two years after their union, she died of a fever, leaving her husband and a a little girl some six months old. The poor man, usually so gay, was well nigh mad from grief; but on beholding in the cradle the poor little creature which had no friend in the world but himself, he check his tears, and thenceforth loved the child as a man loves the only object that can hence forth be dear to him. One fine Sunday in spring, the shoemaker, as he was walking with his daughter, then seven years of age, on the plains lying round the town, chanced to find a bulb which was beginning to grow. Curious to see what it might be, he picked it up, and planted it in a little garden behind the house having a fine southern aspect. The root flourished wonderfully, and proved a tulip of the rich est colors. Any other man in Peter's posi tion would have hastened to sell the flower to some wealthy amateur, who would readily have given a hundred of florins for it, as it belonged to one of the finest of known vari eties. But Peter looked further, and perceived that he might ultimately derive much great er advantage from it; from that day forth he cultivated his Japanese plant with all possi ble care. He gathered the seed, and sewed it in his little garden, till after years of toil and patience, he at last found among his plants a specimen altogether different from the mother-flower, and finer than all known species; and this was the precious specimen which he was so proud to display in his shop- window. In the midst of the busiest part of Harlem stood the warehouse of Deckers & Co.; and here, on the next day, was Mr. Wilhelm Deckers. Now, instead of being a short, stout, red faced fellow, like most of his countrymen, Mr. Wilhelm was a tall young man, whose long hair, handsome moustache, and mouth a la Vandyke, presented nothing of the Dutch man of that day; he was the suitor for whom Mr. Deckers had resolved to solicit the hand of Miss Van Selkirk. Not that the young man cared much about the match, for having studied at the University of Prague, he had passed a great part of his youth in Germany, and had contracted the love of the beau ideal common to the German poets, so that he pro- ' fessed but very moderate admiration for the substantial charms and ruddy complexions of his country-women; nevertheless, hie fath er had so often told him that a man in his position could not remain a bachelor, and needed domestic enjoyments, he had so often and so highly extolled the charms, the for tune, and the advantages to be obtained by a marriage with Miss Van Selkirk, that the young man had consented to please him by marrying. Suddenly a messenger in his father's livery entered the warehouse, announcing to Mr. Wilhelm a visit from his parent. Nearly at the same moment the boat, en tering from the branch canal, was impelled by its lusty rowers into the crowded basin, and glided through the fleet of merchant ves sels, where everybody was eager to salute the lordly Deckers as he passed. On learning his father's arrival, the young man hastened to receive him, but the cx-merchant, having already landed, strode on, muttering to him self, and not heeding the salutations of the crowd, so absent was he. "Dishonored," said be to himself, "quite disgraced, if any rival should get possession of that flower!" "Ah! good-day, father," said Mr. Wilhelm to him, approaching and taking his hand; "how do you do?" Then without awaiting an answer to this usual question, he drew his father's arm through his, and turned towards the dwelling house. "Well! now! father," gayly exclaimed the young man, when they had entered a charming little study decorated in Chinese style, and with windows of colored glass, set in a complicated trellis work of lead, to im itate the woden lattice ornamented with transparent shells, which replaces colored glass in the boudoirs of Pekin. "What suc cess in your matrimonial mission yesterday?" "Wilhelm, my lad," began Mr. Deckers, somewhat embarrassed, "are you seriously in love with Miss Van Selkirk?" "I—not the least in the world, for I have never seen her." "Would you not rather have some one of less wealth, but far superior in beauty?,' "What! have you not told me a thousand times that Miss Van Selkirk is incomparably beautiful?" "Ugh! Ugh! that depends on tastes. Cer tainly I am far from saying that banker Selkirk's daughter is destitute of charms, but perhaps you would think her somewhat stout." "In that case, my dear father, let us say no more about her." "That is precisely what struck me, and therefore I thought of solieting for you the hand of a person of admirable beauty, and who will please you, I am sure." "You are of my opinion that a man pos sessing fortune like ours can marry to his fancy; consequently, provided the lady is well educated, and I find her to my taste, no matter about her dowry." "Well said, my boy, for fortune does not make happiness; go and dress yourself, and I will present you to her immediately." "But, what a hurry you are in! to-morrow or nest day will be early enough, won't it?" "To-morrow may be too late, for such a treasure must have plenty of admirers." Mr. Deckers had evidently tamed down his pride finely since the day before. "Well, let us go, as you so much wish it; I shall be ready in ten minutes." Half an hour after, father and son had taken their seats under the richly embroider- 1 ed flag of the boat, and the pretty skiff, still preceded by a runner on the bank, glided like an arrow along the grand canal towards the market-place. On the 10th of July, 1785, the town of Harlem presented the gayest aspect; all the vessels moored along the canals had their many colored flags ,raving in the sun; cooked viands, beer, and gin, had filled the hearts of the poor with gladness; sailors, porters, and fishermen were walking about in their holiday suits; there were sports on the water, canary-bird singing snatches; in short, the whole population were rejoicing over the marriage of Wilhelm Deckers with the Shoe maker's fair daughter. On the evening of the same day. Messrs. Deckers, father add son, left the residence of Peter Schwartz, each bearing away one of the artizan's trea sures, for if the young man carried off his fair bride in a close chair, the old one took under his arm the inestimable tulip, in ex change for which he had thrust two hundred thousand florins among the wedding presents. On the ground of being the owner, Mr. Deck ers was afterwards anxious to impose his name on the precious plant, but of what avail is even the will of a millionaire against tradition? The old gentleman's baptismal pretensions were soon set aside, and, in spite of him, the pretty flower has always retained the name of MY DAUGRTER'S MARRIAGE. Sut Lovegood's Shirt The first one I met was Sut, (after cros sing the Iliwassee,) weaving along in his usual rambling, uncertain gait. His appear ance at once satisfied me that something was wrong. He had been sick, whipped in a free fight, or was just outgrowing one of his big drunks. But upon this point I was soon enlightened. "Why Sut, what's wrong now?" "lleap's wrong; durn my skin of I hain't most dead. Lite off'n that ar' hoss, George, and take a horn while I take two, (shaking that! everlasting flask of his at me,) and plant yerself on that ar' log, an' I'll toll ye if I ken, but it's most beyont tellin'. I reckon I'm the durndest fool outen IJtaw, 'cept my dad, for he acted boss, an' I hain't dun that yet —alters in sum trap that cudn't kech a sheep. I'll drown myself sum day, see of I don't, jest to stop a family dispersi tion to make d—d fools on themselves." "How is it, Sut, have you been beat play ing cards, or drinking which is it?" "Nary one; that can't be did in these parts; but seein' it's you, George, I'll tell you; but I swar I'm 'shamed—sick—sorry —and—and—mad, I am." "You know I boards with Bill Carr, at his cabin on the mountain, an' pays for sich as I gets when I hew money, an' when I heven't any, why he takes the one third eve it outen me in cussing; an' she, that's his wife Betts, takes out Vother two thirds with the battlin' stick, and the intrust with her tung, an' the intrust's more'n the prin. cip'l—heap more. She's the cussedcst wo man I ever saw anyhow, fur jaw, breedin', and pride. She can scold a blister onto a bull's face rite on the curl in two minutes. She out breeds ev'rything on the rover—an patterns after every fashun she hears tell on, from bussils to breeches. Oh! she's one of 'em, an' sumtimes she's two or three.— Well ye see I'd got sum homemade cotton truck to make a new shut out on, and coaxed Betts to make it, an' about the time it wur dun, hero kums Lawyer Johnson along an' axed fur brckfast—l wish it had pizened him, durn his hide, an' I wonder it dident, for she cooks awful mixens when she trys. I'm pizen proof myself, (holding up his flask and looking through it,) ur I'd been ded long ago. "Well while he wur a satin', she spied out that his shut was stiff an' mity slick, so she never rested till she had wormed it outen him that a preparation ov flour did it, an' she got a few perticulers about the perceed ings tu, outen him be 'oman's art—l don't know how she did it, perhaps he dus. Arter he left she sot in an' biled a big pot of paste, nigh on to a peck uv it, and souzed in my shut an' let it soak awhile; then she tuck it and ironed it out flat an' dry, an' sot it np on its edge agin the cabin in the sun. Thar it stood as stiff as a dry hose hide, and it rattled like a sheet owe mum, it did. It wur pasted together all over. When I cum to dinner, nnthin wud du but I must put it on. Well Betts an' me got the the thing open arter snm hard puffin', she at one of the tails an' me at tether, an' I got into it. Darn the everlastin' newfangled shut, I say. $1,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE I felt like I had crawlt inter an old bee-gum Sit full or pis -ants; but it wur like old Law yer Johnson's, an' I stud it like a man, an' went to work to build Betts an ash-hopper. I worked powerful hard an' swet like a hose an' wen the shut got wet it quit its hurtin'. Arter I got dun, I tuck about four fingers ore red eye, an' crawled up into the cabin loft to take a snuze. "Well, when I waked up I thot I was dal or bed the colery, for all the jints I cud muve wer my ankles, wrists, and knees— cudn't even move my head and skasely wink my eyes—the cussed shut wur pasted fast onto me all over, frum the pint or the tails to the pint ove the broad axe collars, over my years. It sot me as close as a poor cow dos her hide in March. I squirmed and strained till I got it sorter broke at the shoulders an' elbows, an' then I dun the durndest foolishest thing ever did in these mountains. I shuffled my britches off and tore loose from my hide about two inches ov the tail all round in much pain and trib ulation. Oh! but it did hurt. Then I tuck up a plank outen the loft an' hung my legs down trough the hole, an' nailed the edge of the front tail to the edge of the floor be fore, and the hind tail I nailed to the plank what I set on. I onbuttoned the colter and wristbands, raised my hands way up above my head, shut up my eyes, said grace, an' jumped through to the groun' floor." Here Sut ruminated sadly "George, I'm a durnder fool than ever dad was, Hess, Hornets and all. I'll drown myself sum ov these days, see of I don't." "Well, go on, Sut, did this shirt come off?" "I—think—it—did. I beam a noise sor ter like tarin' a shingle ruff off ore a house, all at onst, and felt like my guts and bones wur all that reached the !lure. I staggered to my feet an' tuck a luck up at the shut. The nails bed all hilt their holt, and thar it wur hangin' arms down, inside out an' as stiff as ever. It looked like a map ov Mex ico jist arter one #e the wust battles—a patch ove my hide about the size ore a dol lar and half bill here; a bunch of my liar about the size ore a burd's nest thar; then sum more skin; then sum paste; then a lit tle more har; then a heap ove skin; then more bar; then skin; and so on all over that darn ed, new-fangled, everlastin, infernal cuss ore a shut. It were a picture to look at—an' so were I. The hide, liar an' paste, wur about ekeally divided atween see and it. Wonder what Betts, durn her, thought when she dum home an' foun' me missin'. Specks she thinks I crawled intu the thicket and died ov my wounds. It must have skeered her good, fur I tell you it looked like the skin of sum wild beast torn off alive, or a bag what bed kerriod a load ove fresh beef from a shootin match. "Now, George, of I ever ketch that Law yer •Johnson out I'll shoot him, an' if ever an'oman talks about fiatnin' a shut for mo actin, darn my overlastin' pictur of I don't flatten her. It's a ritribution sartin, the biggest kind of a preacher's regular ritribu tion. Du yu mind my drivin' ore dad throu' that ho'net's nest, and then racin' ore him inter the creek?" "Yes." "Well this Is what comes ove it. "I'll drown myself sum ove these days, see of I don't, of I don't die from that orful shut.— Take a horn, an' don't you ever try a sticky shut as long as you live." "Advice," Gratis A lawyer residing in Ithaca, New York, and enjoying an extensive practice, is desirous of emigrating to San Francisco. He thinks the climate would suit him, and knows his wife would be delighted with it, for she says so. His only hesitation in starting at once arises from the provident fear, that sufficient patronage might not be secured to maintain himself and family. To be better enabled to decide, he addresses a letter to the editor of the San Francisco Golden Era, through the recommendation of a friend, and con cludes it thus: I have been in the profession since IS3O, hare a large library, and would like to be assured of business enough for a fair living. You can doubtless inform me— Ist. Whether the business is flourishing or otherwise, and whether the profession is over stocked? 2d. What board is at first-class hotels or boarding houses? 3d. What would be the rent of a dwelling house and office? 4th. Any information generally that would be appropriate? Your attention to this will oblige. Very truly, yours, BENJ. G. FEnnts. To which the Era man responds that ho handed the note of Mr. FERRIS ton facetious Lyeurgns, who, like himself, was once the owner of a "good library," but is now a por ter in Front street, and in three days receiv ed the following in return, covering very sat isfactorily all the points of inquiry: "Inquiry First—Thanks to the three thou sand lawyers in:San Francisco, 'the business is flourishing.' Some twenty-five of the profession manage all the legitimate legal business in the city, while the remaining twenty-nine-hundred and seventy-five live by treating strangers to fighting whiskey, 1111 superintending their conveyance from the gutter to the station house, and defending them before the Police Court the next morn ing for two dollars and a half. One such case per month is considered a 'flourishing' practice, although some of the more energetic have been known to secure as high as two in a week. [WHOLE NUMBER, 1,406. "Second—Board for a family of five or six at a first-class hotel may be had for three or four hundred dollars per month. This infor mation can be of little importance, however, to a lawyer. Such of the profession as do ' not take their chances at the lunch tables, or 'ranch' themselves, invariably 'board' round, like a country schoolmaster, and aro kicked out at the end of the week upon refu sing to settle. This i. practised for the dou ble purpose of living without cost, and pros ecuting landlords for assault and battery in Looting them out of the house. "Third—This question need not be an swered. Ica lawyer cannot swindle a land lord out of a year's office rent, when once in posession of the tenement, he is ignorant of the first principles of his profession, and can not du otherwise than fail in Sun Francisco. "Fourth—The only items of 'general infor mation' to be imparted are, that the idea of a lawyer paying board or office rent is an ab surdity; that instead of a library, he must provide him.elf with an armory of Bowie knifes, pistols and slung-shots, that the safest way for a lawyer to proceed in San Francisco, who expects a 'fair living,' is to commence practice with seventeen thousand dollars in cash, and leave the country as soon as he reaches the bottom dollar." The Indignant Boy A youth about 16 years of age, named Richard O'Neil, was arrested and brought before the Police Court, yesterday forenoon, charged with stealing a bottle of wine, valu ed at 50 cents. The case excited consider able attention from its magnitude, and some half a dozen fledgling lawyers volunteered in his defence, but the lad has probably read the papers, and know that a young limb of the law always managed to get his client in the State Prison, the House of Correction, or else heavily fined, so he re jected the offers with lofty disdain, and ex pressed his intention, in a whisper to Offi cer Ingalls, of "going in and winning." O'lsireil is as sharp featured as a child weaned on vinegar, and appears about as bright. Ile seemed in excellent spirits when his name was called by the clerk, and in a loud, and distinct tone declared that he was not guilty of the crime alleged. Officers were called to testify in the case, and their evidence seemed conclusive; but the Judge thought a few questions by the prisoner, not inappropriate, and accordingly he was allowed to ask them. "Will you swear that I took the bottle?" asked young vinegar of the °Meer, who arrested him. "I found the bottle on you," was the reply. "Will you swear that it was wine in the bottle?" asked Richard, with a sardonic grin. _ The officer turned pale, stammered, and was evidently confused. The boy saw his triumph, and his grin was expanded into a horse laugh, that was promptly suppressed by the officers of the Court. "That's a pretty witness." sneered Rich ard; "I'm accused of tcaling a bottle of wine, and yet I'd like to see the first proof of the charge. Get down, spoony, leave the police, and go into the rum business." The Court rebuked such shocking levity, and inquired of the youngster whether he had drank any of the wine which it was alleged he had stolen. "I beg your pardon, sir, but what did you ask me?" inquired the prisoner, earnestly. "I wished to know if you drank any of the wine?" repeated the Court, blandly. For a space of five minutes, the boy look ed at the Judge, apparently too astonished to speak. At length his haughty bearing gave way—he turned from the bench, and with his head bowed upon his breast, burst into tears, and sob after sob disturbed the stillness of that gloomy court room. "What have I said to wound your feel ings?" asked the Judge, in a mild tone. "I don't mind being accused of stealing the wine," said the boy, digging his knuck les into his eyes, and trying to speak free of sobs. "In fact, I did take the bottle, but to think that I should lira to be suspected of drinking a drop of d—d fifty cent wine is more than I can bear. Send me to prison now, and I wont object." Instead of a prison, ho got fined $5 and costs, and the last our reporter saw of him, he was trying to induce Officer Ingalls to to hold his jacket while he went round the corner and got the money.—Boston Herald. Ilow To AVOID BLIND PERSONAL.—Sher. idan Knowles beingadvised by Sir E. Bulwer Lytton to read Gibbon's Decline and Fall, in order to get a good plot for a new play he had engaged to write, went, in his übtial im pulsive manner, immediatly sub,cribed to Saunders & Otley's public library. Paying I down his subscription for three months, ho walked away. Being on the eve of going into the country, he did not take any books then, but on his return to London, nearly four months afterwards, ho called and asked for the work in question. The clerk looked over thenames, and said, "Your subscription has expired, sir; I cannot let you have any books until you have paid for another quar ter in advance." The wrath of tile Irish dramatist was roused, so he soundly rated the clerk, declaring that "Saun lets C Otley were a couple of swindlers:" One of the partners hearing this came forward, and re proached Mr. Knowles for his personal insult. "Personal, my dear sir." said the wit, "not a bit of it—if you are Mr. Saunders, damn Mr. Otley; if you are Mr. Otley, damn Mr. Saunders; I would not be personal for the world:" The partner smiled at the felicitous retort and put Knowles on the free list.