--..-.
_
- -
, -
.... .
I _ 4l ,
,r
, r .
.....„ •,_... r ..,
-AC.
-- - ~••
. ,
•
- -.
. .. _ . I
: .
...-
•., -..
. • -
r _... ........._ . ~... _....
....„...
L.
2 _ .
, ~,...
...
...... .
- . 6 .
:_
~_
U
SAMUEL WRIGHT, Editor and Proprietor.
VOLUME XXVIII, NUMBER G.]
.PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY HORNING.
• Qffice in Northern Central Railroad Com
?zany's Iluilding, north-west corner Front and
ihi'idnut streets.
Terms of Subscription.
"-Otte Copy per annum. it paid in advance,
of not paid within three
months from cominetwetnent of the year, 200
Con.tst ca Copy.
Nn subseription received for n levn tine than
six
months, and no paper will be di-continued until all
arreurages use paid, unless at the option of the pub•
ti her.
i[> :Noisy may be remitted by mail at the publish
er's risk.
Rates of Advertising.
I Fq u are [6 lines] one week
three week',
each quhcequent insertion, 10
1 " [l2line.] one week, 50
1 MP
three werke. _
-• each .üb.equent ingertion, 25
Larger adverti.entent. to proportion.
A liberal th.count will be made to quarterly, half.
yearly . or yearly advertisers,tcho are strictly confined
to their InPuaec..
DR.S. ARMOR
HMEOPERIC PHYSICIAN. Office and
ne+ItIPTICC iu Locust Rtteet, oppoiiite. the Poiit
Oilier; OFFICE PRIVATE.
Columbia, April 25, 1457. Can
Drs. John tr. Rohrer,
M associated in the Practice of ,liledi-
Hcme.
Col unilria, April 1gt,15.5G-Il
DR. G. W. MIFFLIN,
DENTIST, Locust street, opposite the Post
Office. Columbia. Pa.
Columbia, May 3, 1,933 1
IL M. NORTH,
A TTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW.
Collection.. I roinvtly made, in Lancaster and Vorl.
Counties.
coluntlim. May 4,1950.
J. W. FISHER,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law,
Sepirmt , t , 1,4", ti
GEORGE J. SMITH,
_ •
VTIIOLESALE and Retail Bread and Cale
v Baker.—Cougantly on hand a variety of Cakes.
too nurnerou, to mention; Crackers; Soda. V 1 oar ; Scroll.
and Sugar Biscuit, Confectionery, of every description.
ac., tax. imeusT STRBF.T.,
Feb. 2,'56. Between the Bank und Franklin House.
B. P. ILPPOLD d CO.,
Alort•
GENERAL FORWARDING AND COMMIS
SION MERCHANTS,
RECEiVER:.i
COA {.AND 1 ItODUCE,
And Deliverers on any point on the Columbia and
Philadeiphia Railroad. to York and
Baltimore and to Pittsburg;
DEALERS IN COAL. FI.ODR AND GRAIN,
WIIIt3RY AND BACON, hove pi-t revel ved
litr,,o lot of Monongahela Rectified Whizloty. from
Pitiqirg, of which they will keep a i•uppl: eon.dontly
Oil hand. at low price.. Non. 1, 2 and 6 Cala' Rosin.
Columbia, January g 7. 1054.
0 ATS FOR•SALE
THE BUSHEL, or in larger quantities,
jJ at Nos. 6 Canal Basin.
B. F. APPOI.I) & CO.
Columbia. January _A. 1850
Just Received,
JO BUS. PRUE GROUND
ct io NUTS, at J.
ner F.
NVltolesttle mut Reim! Confey
etttithlishment. Front ttireet, two floon below the
11 - wthingtott Columbia. [(hilober 2J, 1036.
Just Received,
2
0 TpIDS. 15 TIERCE , . HANTS.—
For sale by B F. A PP01.1) & CO..
No.:. I, :I and U, Canal Basin.
Columbia. October IS, 1t.56,
Rapp's Gold Pens.
CONSTANTLY on hand, an assortmrat of
tht,e celebrated I'F.NS. Persona to want of a
gond article are invited to call and examine them.
Columbia, June 30, 1335. JOHN FELIX.
Just Received,
A LARGE LOT of Children's Carriages,
Itnelring Horses, Wlteelliarrou=. I'reprl
lcr•, Nursery Swings, It.c. 0 EMIG
April 19,1956. Locust rtrect.
CIIINA and other Farley Artielee. tno numeron• to
mention, for tmle by G.. 1. Sh e ITII, I.oeut4 street,
between the Bank :mil Franklin House.
Columbia, April IS, 1656.
THE undersigned have been appointed
nuents for the .ale of Cook & Co'o GUTTA PER
CH& PENS, warranted not to corrode; in c lustwity
they almost equal the quill.
S~TLOA &
Columbia Jan. 17, 1557.
Just Received,
•
A BEAUTIFUL lot of Lamp Shades, viz: Vie
bonne. Volcano. Drum. Boner Fly. Red Ro'ru,
nod the new French Fruit Shade, which eon be hCCII
ut the window o( the Golden Mortar Drug :Store.
November 29, I 8:.,"6.
A LARGE lot of Shaker Corn, from the
kom.er settlement in New• You k. poet reeeived,
at 11. SUYDAM & SON'S
Columbia, Dec. 20, 5..5r;
HAIR DYE'S. Jones' Batchelor's, Peter's and
Eryptinn hair dyes, warranted to color the hnir
any desired shade, without injury to the skin. For sale
by It. WILLIAMS.
gay 10, Front M., Columbia. Pa.
- PARR & TIIOMPSON'S justly celebrated Com
_l2 mereinl and ocher Gold Pen.--thi• bro.l in the
market —lt received. I'. SHREINER.
Columbia, April V. 15.55.
- FXTRA by FAMILY FLOUR, by the barrel, for
snle D & CO,
Cnlnnibin.Jone 7. Nnc. 1,2 nail U Cannl llncin.
WRY should anyperson do without a Clock,
when they can be had for 5.1.5° and upwards.
at ti I I IC EIN Ewsr
Columbia, April 4?, 1955
LQAPONEFIER, or Concentrated Lye, for ma
king Soap. 1 lb. I. •uiliment for one barrel of
-Soft Soar', or I lb.for 9 lbs. (lard Soap. Full direc
tion• will be given at the Counter for making Soil,
ilard and Fancy Soaps. For sale by
It. WILLIAMS.
Columbia, March 31, 1855.
A URGE lot of Baskets, Brooms, Buckets
&0., for sole by H. SUMANI
-WEIKEL'S Instantaneous Yeast or Baking
Powder. for cule by 11. SUYDANI at SON.
20nozr. - s 1 1 1100AIS. 10 BOX ES CIIEFSE. For
sale cheap, by D. F. APPOLD & CO.
Columbia, October 23. 1.36.
A supE.lo,t article of PAINT 011.. for ,tle 13y
R %VILMA %IS
Trom :•::ireet. Columbia, Pa
May 10. 1..56
-J UST nucEivrt).n Inrer nod %%0,11 crlert&l-Isjnrtet:i
of EttliAfir , . entvq.itog to part of Shoe. !bur, Cloth,
Crumb, Nail, Hat and Teeth
R. WILLIAMS.
Front street Commbia, Pn.
.March 22. —.-o;
A SUPERIOR and eI r orTONIC SPICE BITTER
SS
suitabie for Ilotel Keepers, Mr .ale by
H. WILL/ANIS%
Front street. Columbia.
May 10,185 G
FRESIT r.TIIT:REAL Oli., nhenye nn hand. rte.(' co
Arlie by It. AVII.I.IANIS.
May 10, I eSG. Front Street, Golumben. P.
TEST received, FRESH CA NI Pit ENE. end tier sate
by R. WILLIAMS.
!Hay tooesc. Front street. Columbia, Pa.
10"11 LW.% Nen, City Cured Dame and Stiouldere,
UV 3.1%1 received and for sale by
Feb. SI 0,3;7. SUYD‘SII. SON.
ttrii.
Song of the Editor
I=
DIM
The Editor I n his sanctum sat,
With a visage grim rind sour,
All tt us silent without. save the wind in the street,
And the Charley pursuing Isis usual beat,
Calling the midnight hoar.
I lin peepers were swollen and red,
And the rushlight n as melting away,
"And to-morrow," to himself he said,
"Is publication day!'
EM
IVrite! write! write!
I fear I am growing dumb!
I've divers notions in my head,
Which feel. like it toll or two of lead,
BM they vanish Ile coon as they come!
Brush and scissors. and paste—
Poole, nod ' , Meson,. and brush!
111 could collate one bright idea
I could write with a perfect rush!
A nod, a start, and a nod!
My pen worn down to a stump—
pause, and ponder. and scratch my pate,
My peepers the size of a pewter plate,
And my =cones: on the desk I dump;
Nod, tad. nod,
As I =it tutnhled up in a. heap—
What a sin that subscribers should be so scarce,
And the paper so very cheap!
Write. write. write,
With paper all blotted and smeared;
Write, Write, writc,
With eyes all blinded rind bleared!
Briih, and seksorg, and paste.
Paste, and scissors, and brush—
"cis enough to drive an Editor mad,
And ins kindly feelings crush!
0 man, who no paper will lake,
To ainni , e your children and wife,
”ri.t not the pens and ink ye waste.
flat the Editor's precious hie!
Write. write, write,
For a livelihood I must,
I wear out my shoes collecting the news,
And walk till Fnii like to bust!
Trudge. trudge, trudge,
With cheeks both hollow and thin,
'Trudge, trudge. trudge,
Anil all for a little tint
For plen‘ure I have no =pace,
Not n moment to loon have I!
Rags and ill•grace, "tare me full in the face,
So 'root. I igge e, or ditr.
wnLe. Wakr,
Ye who learning 1n..1,1 a= nnuglg;
D o ye not know, fur a donut or RO,
What o u r children can be taught?—
Tuke, lake. lake,
The paper and read the news;
Don't let your ofr.prilitt , live and die
Like a parcel of wild Yahoos!
Scratch. arrateh. geratch,
%While toy bruin to owing away—
Fierateh, strain,,
Till my head is turning gray!
0 man, for a moment think
flow the PRINTER to,, rob of his labor.
When a paper you fob, from a front door knob,
Or borrow one of your neighbor:
11 - rite. write, write,
011! but I'm weary unit wont!
\Vrite, write, write.
And the cocks err crowing for morn!
And Avheia for home I start,
I reel like a famished rat,
Folks say on the sly, as I totter by,
"Voar hr goes ?rah a brick in his hat!'
The editor in Lis raltroim sat.
With a vi-age s•tvage and .our,
All teas silent without. FaVe the 'wind in the street,
And the watchman parading his usual beat,
Chiming the IllithIE:131
ni4 sirs Wen' sn,,hbrn Ilml red,
Nrinie the taper was melting sway,
"And to-morrnw," to Ilia - Nell lie said,
"Is publication flits
stltrthanz.
From Dr. Dnrilois Anglo-Boson
Marion Wilmer
declare I don't quite like this!' solilo
quized Mrs. Wilmer, a wife of three months,
as she walked up and down her tastefully
furnished parlor, one pleasant summer after
noon. She was a little, graceful woman,
with a face which owed most of its charm to
its brightness and vivacity; for though her
mouth looked like a cleft rosebud with a
stray sunbeam in its heart, and her eyes
were blue as the skies that strike out from
the edges of some May cloud; Marion 11711-
mer's face had but very little regularity of
features.
She was a warm-hearted, impulsive young
woman, who loved her husband with all that
strength and devotion which makes a wo
man cling to a man through good and bed,
sacrificing and suffering for him to the end
of her life.
Thus Marion Wilmer loved her husband.
But she had been tenderly cared and petted
in her childhood; she was accustomed to re
ceive homage bat to give none; and, though
full of beautiful impulses, her mind had
never been educated, and she was not in the
habit of analyzing her own feelings.
Frederick Wilmer was a proud and happy
husband, loving his young wife almost to
idolatry, and never dreaming that she might
be at times a little exacting and selfish in
her love. Now, it is certain that a heart,
that has room for only one affection cannot
be a very large one, and newly married
,vomen should do well to remember this. A
wife should, of course, have the first place
in her husband's heart, the chief scat at his
table, the best room in his house, and the
prettiest furniture; but there should be seats
and rooms, too, for others; and that love
which ignores every other tie, demanding
all for itself, is pure selfishness. There are i
other genes beside the diamond, and this
may not lose auy of its brilliancy because it
is set in the midst of them.
There was a shadow on the brow of Mrs.
Wilmer, that day, as she walked up and
down the parlor, with richly carved sofas on
the one side, and crimson-cushioned chairs,
and marble tables on the other. It was the
heaviest shadow that had been there since
that morning when she turned away from
"NO ENTERTAINMENT IS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING."
COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, AUGUST 15,.1557.
the altar with Frederick Wiliner, a newly
made wife.
'I think it is too bad that Charlie Stevens,'
continued the lady, swinging absently in
one hand a locket containing her husband's
likeness and hair, 'should take up so much
of Fred's time. Now, they've all gone off
on this fishing excursion, I shan't see any
more of him till night, I suppose. I know
Fred is very fond of fishing, and it's the first
time he has gone out since he was married,
but, then, Charles takes him once a week to
the association, and there's always some
thing coming on—some meeting, or nobody
knows what. I think after a man's married
he belongs exclusively to his wife, and that
his friends should understand this and let
him alone. I can't have others sot up their
claims to Fred beside mine, that's certain;
and I just wish I could devise something to
keep Charles Stevens away from us. Fred
has got me, (bless his heart!) and that ought
of course to satisfy him.'
She was still for a moment, but the cloud
did not lighten on that fair brow, and no
smile wavered on her settled lips, or in her
musing eyes, which looked, without seeing
them, at the elegant figures on the Turkey
carpet; for pretty Mrs. Wilmer, to speak the
plain, unvarnished truth, was actually jeal
ous of her husband's regard for Charles
Stevens; she really believed (why will wo
men be so petty and narrow minded,) that
this lessened, in some degree, his affection
for herself—took away something that be
longed exclusively to her.
Now Frederick Wilmer and Charles Ste
vens bad known each other from their child
hood, and there was something beautiful in
the brotherly attachment that had grown up
and strengthened between them. They
would have gone to the world's end to help
each other. The young merchant had been
indeed, under large obligations to Charles
Stevens, for rendering him assistance, at an
important crisis of their business. The
friends of both young men often laughingly
protested that as they could not marry each
other they would not marry at all; but Fred
Wilmer had proved the fallacy of this asser
tion, for the blue eyes of Marion Worth had
won a place in his heart which his friend
had never occupied.
Charles congratulated Frederick warmly
when he heard of the engagement, although,
perhaps, he conquered a secret pang when
he remembered the evenings they used to
pass together, and thought how seldom
Frederick now ever spared one from his be
trothed.
Well the young people were married and
went to housekeeping. Charles was fre
quently a guest at his house, and admired
Marion greatly, but jealousy is prejudiced
and unjust, and, alas! it makes one evil.—
She did not reciprocate his feelings. But
she ought to have rejoiced in this brotherly
bond, and strengthened it by every word
and deed in her power.
'There, that will be just the thing,' said
Mrs. Wilmer, swinging her locket and chat
elaine vehemently. 'l'll give a party next
heck, and not invite him. This will be a
pretty strong hint as to my wishes respect
ing his future relations with my husband;
but what will Fred say? No matter, it will
be very easy to make him promise that I
shall give out the invitations, and that he
will not mention the party to a human be
ing. Then when he finds that Charlie Ste
vens is not here, he'll certainly be surprised
and, of course, he won't like it; but I guess
a little of my coaxing will make the matter
all right.' And she smiled—but somehow,
that smile did not brighten the face of
Marion Wilmer, as her smiles usually did.
* * * * * *
'l'm in a prodigious hurry, Stevens, and
I can't stay, indeed I can't to discuss the
matter now;' and the young man hurried
from the desk where Charlie Stevens was
sitting—for he was clerk in a bank. 'See
here,' the speaker turned round suddenly;
'we'll see the thing to-night, at Wilmer's.—
I've had an invitation, though we are mere
acquaintances, for it's to be a large party,
and I shall see you there, of course.'
The young man looked up with a ques
tion on his lips, but his friend was gone.
'lt must have been an oversight on all
sides, or else it's all his wife's doings,'
mused the young clerk, as he dipped his pen
into the inkstand and run the line of figures
on the book before him for the tenth time,
although the sum involved no rule but that
of simple addition. 'lt struck me the last
time I was there, that the lady was not very
cordial!'—his brow here lowered. 'Well,
there's one thing, if they've treated me to
such a marked slight as this, I shan't trou
ble them very soon again, that's certain.—
But, then, there's Fred; it will go hard—
very hard to give him up. Hang the whole
race of women, I say; and yet, if he desert
me, my best resource, I'm thinking, will be
to take one of them either "for better or for
worse:"
'Well, haven't we had a good time, Fred?'
And the young wife threw herself down by
the side of her husband, and surveyed, with
real pleasure, the disordered parlor, and,
the tables confusedly scattered over with
heaps of china, and glass and silver, inter
mixed with broken pieces of cake, and cream
and fruit.
'Yes, a. most delectable one; and do you
know what I thought when you stood at the
table, Marion?'
Looking down, and smiling with the dark
eyes in her face, she replied—
'No; something I shall like- to hear, I
know?'
'That, though there were a great many
lovely women around me, none, after all,
could compare with a certain Marion Wil
mer.'
'Oh, Fred! did you think that?' And she
looked doubly beautiful now, with the smile
coming up into her blue eyes, and the blush
into her fair cheeks.
'I did, most assuredly, dear. But,'—ab
ruptly changing the subject--`it's very
strange that Charlie Stevens wasn't, here to
night. I missed the old fellow all the time.
Perhaps he's ill. I must go around to the
bank to-morrow morning, and see what's
the matter.'
Marion blushed again—not from pleasure
this time—and for a moment she wished she
had asked her husband's friend to the party;
but the truth must come out now.
'Fred, you remember you told me I might
give out all the invitations to this party?'
`Well' I didn't invite Tour friend Charlie
Stevens.'
'Didn't invite him, Marion?' said Freder
ick, in a tone between surprise and displea
sure. 'What in the world prevented you?'
'Because—because—Fred, I don't like
him as well as you do. He comes here and
takes you away from me many evenings,
and seems to consider his claims greater
than my own.'
Frederick gave a significant whistle.
'Now don't look so cross, Fred,' pleaded
the wife, laying her hand on her husband's
shoulder.
'Marion, I would not have had you done
this thing fur a thousand parties. 'Charlie
Stevens is a true friend to me, and would go
further to serve me than all the people
together who were here to-night.'
This praise wag not very pleasant to the
young wife. A little frown gathered over
her face.
I think you set too much store by this
friend of yours,' she said. 'I can't for my
part see in what his great merit or attrac
tions consist.'
`ln his noble soul and his warm heart,
Marion. I must call on him to-morrow
morning, and make up this matter, some
how. It will be a very disagreeable busi
ness though.'
Marion burst into tears.
'And make your Wife ridiculous by throw
ing the blame on her.' I would not have
believed you could du this, Fred, oven for
Charlie Stevens' sake!'
Her tears softened the young husband at
once, and be was ready to do almost any
thing to call back the old smiles to that
bright face; then he saw plainly that he
could not apologize to his friend without
implicating Marion, and he finally concluded
to let the matter drop, hoping that Charlie
would hear nothing about the party. And
so .Marion Wilmer had triumphed. With
her woman's arts and fears she had come
between her husband and the best friend he
had on earth. How many a wife has done
such a thing?
Frederick Wilmer and Charles Stevens
did not meet for several days after this; and
when the former called to invite his friend
to dine with him he felt at once that he was
no longer the same Charles Stevens of the
old time. He talked and joked after the old
fashion, and said the old words but his man
ner, and even his very smile had lost their
old heartiness; and Frederick felt it all.
Men have not the tact of women in mak
ing apologies, or getting out of an awkward
dilemma. The young merchant had it
several times at his 'tongue's end' to allude
to the party, and apologize in some way for
the inadvertedcy on his part. But he could
not implicate Marion, and he was too con
scientious to tell a falsehood. So they part
ed, and Charles Stevens did not come to
dinner because an imperative engagement
prevented; and after this Marion had Fred
erick all the evening to herself.
'l'm very sorry you can't go, Marion; but
I'll run down and tell them not to wait for me,
as I shan't leave you alone.'
`Yes, you will, Fred,' answered Marion,
lifting her head from the pillow, and faintly
smiling. shall sleep until your return;
so your being here wont do me any gocal.—
Kiss me now, and then run off.
Mr. and Mrs. Wilmer had ridden down
with a large party to the shore that day;
but she had been taken ill with a severe
head ache, to which she was subject, and
obliged to keep her chamber in the hotel,
while the rest of the party were preparing
to go on a sailing excursion.
Well, then, if you insist upon my going,
good-bye,' and Wilmer laid back the uplifted
hand very tenderly on the pillow, and left
his young wife to that best physician of
head and heart—sleep.
When the young man reached the shore,
he found a large addition had just been
made to the party, among whom was his
own friend Charles Stevens. They met cor
dially of course, with mutual expressions of
surprise and pleasure. which were inter
rupted by' the hurried preparations to em
bark.
The sailing boat was not very large, and
when the ladies were seated, the boatmen
thought it unsafe to put off with so large a
party. On this account, a number of the
gentlemen volunteered to take a, small boat
that lay on the shore near them and among
them were Charles Stevens and Frederick
Wilmer.
It was a beautiful day when the two boats
swept from tllc shore—the one riding over
the waves with her white sails leaping in
the wind, and her green sides breasting the
blue waters, as if she knew and rejoiced in
the proud manhood and womanly loveliness
which she carried.
The small boat was quite filled by the six
gentlemen on board of her, who, waving
their bats to the ladies, plied their oars right
bravely, as they followed in the wake of the
larger boat.
* . *
The afternoon wore brightly on, but ere
long, the wind sprang up and strenthened,
and thick black clouds began to pile them
selves in the sky.
Again the heavens grew black with great
masses of clouds. The wind freshened.—
The two boats had seperated long before
this; but now both were turned homeward.
Fiercer and fiercer stormed the wind, madly
hurling up the waves; and the boats now far
apart, rocked and quivered as they ploughed
through the white foam.
Frederick Wilmer and Charles Stevens
were the only two on board of the smaller
boat that understood perfectly how to man
age her, and she was by no means well con
structed to ride against the wind. Two of
the gentlemen, thoughtlessly standing up in
it, grew dizzy, lost their equilibrium, and,
in attempting to regain it, fell to one side,
nearly capsizing the boat. In Fred's alarm,
the oar fell from his hand into the sea. lie
leaned over, making a quick, blind motion
to secure it, the boat dipped again, and when
she was righted again, Frederick Wilmer
was in the sea.
Ire was not an expert swimmer, and, after
battling for a moment with those wild waves,
he went down, and there was none to save
him.
The men in the boat sat horror bound.—
None of them, except Charles Stevens, could
swim well, and the shore was at a distance;
it would have been certain death to have
committed themselves to the waves.
Frederick Wilmer rose again; and Charles
Stevens saw that white, uplifted face—the
face that had beamed up all along his path,
from boy into manhood—and his heart
stood still for pity.
A moment more, and he had thrown down
the oar, and sprung into the waves. Ho
clutched the young merchant by his long
hair, and beat for the shore. It was a ter
rible struggle fur life. Frederick was com
pletely exhausted, and soon a little more
than a dead weight upon his friend; but
courage and skill triumphed at lust, and
thoroughly exhausted himself, Charles Ste
vens drew his friend upon the shore.
'My husband—my dear husband! Is he
drowned?'
White as the dead were Marion Wilmer's
lips as they asked this question, while she
stood upon the wet sands, with the wind and
the rain beating through her long, unbound
hair.
The storm had roused her from her sleep,
she had rushed out on the piazza, staining
her eyes for the large vessel, which was not
in sight, and in which she fully believed her
husband had sailed with the party. She
observed the smallest boat, and thought it
was filled by a party of fishermen, who
would understand well enough how to man
age her, but her eyes were bent in another
direction, and it was not until the swim
mers nearly reached the shore that they at
tracted her attention.
Suddenly a change came over her face.—
She grasped the railings of the piazza, and
gazed with distended eyes and quivering
lips on the two forms that one moment rose,
and the next were buried under the spray.
It was some distance to the shore, and the
young men reached it before she did, though
she rushed almost like a spirit over the
sharp rocks and wet sands.
'No, he will revive soon; don't be alarmed!'
said Charles Stevens to the frightened wife,
and then fell to the ground, overcome by
his long struggle with the waves.
There was help at hand, and the two
young men were conveyed to the hotel, and,
in a short time, both were restored to con
sciousness—to learn that the storm had
abated, and that both the boats had, after
imminent peril, reached the shore.
rilffi
It was evening, and Mr. and Mrs. IVilmer,
with Charles Stevens, sat together in one of
the chambers of the hotel.
'Charles, my dear old fellow, to think I
owe my life to your said the young mer
chant, lifting up his pale face from the hand
that rested on the arm of his chair, for he
had not yet regained his strength. 'There
arc debts too groat for a man ever to cancel;
there is a gratitude too deep for words.—
Charlie, what shall I say to you?'
'Nothing at all, Fred. It is enough of a
reward to think that leaved my best friend.'
'And to-night, if it were not for you,
Charles'—she had never called him Charles
before—'instead of sitting here Ly Fred's
side a happy, happy wife, I should have
been a--'
The lady could not finish the sentence,
for the tears that sprang from her heart into
her eyes—those eyes that bent down on him
from their blue depths, a glance of gratitude
that he thought repaid him fully for what
he had done. He smiled lightly.
'You would have made a charming wid
ow, certainly, Mrs. Wilmer; but, notwith
standing, I had rather sco you a fond and
loving wife.'
And then the memory of their recent ne
glect of Charles Stevens smote the heart of
Loth husband and wife; but Marion felt it
$1,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE
fax more keenl
of the two. She was an
impulsive little woman, and in her gratitude
for the life more precious than her own,
which he had :saved, her pride entirely van
ished, and she determined to confess the
wrong she had done to the preserver of her
husband.
'I am very much ashamed of it, but I
cant keep it back now,' she said, turning
round her tearful face, and flashing up
through it her smiles on the young man;
'but I was really jealous of you, Charles, and
—and when I gave my last party, I didn't
invite you because I thought my husband
would care less for me if he loved you Em
much. It was very, very wicked, and God
has punlidted me for this feeling: but still,
if you knew what a young wife's tenderness
is for her husband, you would not find it so
hard to—to do what, with these tears of
penitence and shame, I ask you now to fur-
give me.'
'To be sore I will,' answered the hearty
tones of Charles Stevens, as he lifted the
little hand Marion Wilmer had presented to
him to his lips. 'We will never speak of it
any more.'
And then Frederick Wilmer rose up and
stepped towards them. He took the hand
of his wife and the hand of Charles Stevens,
and clasped them both together.
'We have been brothers till our lives,
Charles,' ho said,' and it is right now I
,houhl bring you a sister. It is the hest,
the only reward that I can bring you.' And
Charles Stevens tirew his. arm around Marion
Wilmer.
'Marion, my sister!'
'Clinrh!s, my brother!'
And so there was 'hence' made between
EMI
'And now, you may take Fred to the club,
and the aqsociation, and to all the fishing
and hunting, frolics in Christendom, fur all
I care,' laughed Marion.
'Look here, I don't know but the tables
will be turned, and I shall be jealous of you
Charlie. Marion is most too willing to turn
me off.'
Mrs. Wilmer clapped her hands in her
own dainty, graceful fashion, and laughed
a laugh, so full, and sweet, and frolicksome,
that both the listeners could not chose but
join in it.
But Marion's face grew sober ngain as
she 5:6(1—'1 shall never forgot the lesson
which the last three weeks, have taught mo.'
And she did not: she was never jealous
of Charles Stevens again.
From liolloehold ltiorcla.
French and English
An oath, a red wig, red whiskers, a white
great coat with a cape, a thick stick, and a
bull-dog in a string, were characteristic ex
ternals of an English :Miler on the French
stage, during the time when Englishmen
were anything but honored guests in France.
A few years ago, a favorite comic song, sung
on the Boulevards, was an Englishman's
dream; in which, in a series of stanzas, the
dreamer imagines ho is on the point of death
by pistol, by poison, by drowning, and by
the hangman; but starting up at the critical
moment, he wakes and exclaims at the end
of each stanza—
h, what haprilllCsß, if K•c could go on dreaming forever
Even now the popular notion of English
melancholy and affection for suicide still
dwells among the French in spite of railroads
with their hundred thousand travelers per
season, and we know not how many ten
thousand British permanent residents in
France and French residents in England;
yet the bull-dog has been exchanged for
most marvellous stories of our devotion to
steeple chase, cricket, and course of yachts
and 'gigs.'
In a recent collection of stories, purport
ing to illustrate the eccentricities of several
nations, written by Monsieur Charles Newil,
we have stories of Englishmen which could
certainly have only been written by a
Frenchman, after a week in London, lodg
ing in Leicester square, and studying Eng
lish character nowhere beyond the purlieus
of Soho and the confines of Regent street.—
All the Englishmen so drawn have the same
peculiarities—a disgust for life, a passion
for sport, a habit of drinking porto and grogs,
and of smoking of cigars at all times of the
day.
Thus the story of Ephraim Wheat, Esq.,
opens with Ephraim examining the decora
tions of a long file of carriages, drawn up
before the Club of Coventry, in Piccadilly,
i then, entering the porte cochere, and ascend
ing the staircase leading to the club, he
asks a powdered and liveried footman if
Monsieur Tom 'Wild is in the drawing room?
to which the lackey replies, bowing respect
fully. 'Yes, your honor.' 'Wheat proceeds
to the drawing room, and finds Wild lean
ing with his back against the chimney-piece,
chatting to a circle of friends. Ile call-' him
on one side, into a little private room, say-,
ing to a waiter. who was engaged in arrang
ing chessmen, 'Davis, a bottle of port, and I
cigars:' port and cigars being, it seenk, the
inevitable accompaniment of every English
interview. These having been brought on
a silver salver, the door shut, and orders
given that no one should be admitted,
Ephrinm Wheat troceeds to confide to his
brother-in-law, Tom Wild—in a melancholy
dialogue too long for us to quote—that his
passage is taken in the Emerald for Balti
more; that it is not for business or for plea
sure that he is undertaking this voyage; but
that he, the unhappy Wheat, having the
reputation of being the first pistol-shot in
England, has heard of an American, one
[WHOLE NUMBER, 1,411.
•Joe Erickson, who has eclipsed him; being
able to split six bullets on a knife, in six
shots, at fifty paces. Accordingly, he has
sent to Paris (of all places in the world!) for
a pair of pistols—and intends starting in
stantly for the United States; where, at
Baltimore—near the praries, and the Huron
Indians—he intends to challenge the Amer
ican to a match of two thousand five hun
dred shots. If victor, he will return by the
first vessel sailing for England; if vanquish
ed, he will hang himself!
'My poor sister, my poor niece!' exclaims
Tom Wild, 'have you the courage to make
the ono a widow, the other an orphan?'
'Oh!' replies Ephraim, calmly taking
an envelope sealed with black out of his
pocket, 'I have prepared for that, and you
will be my executor. Mistress Wheat will
have the finest diamonds, the best horses,
and the most ceinfiirtabie chateau in the
county of Durham; and, as for little Mary, I
have left her--'
At this ?tage Tom r,ees that argu
ment i 9 perf.ctly lo , t on his brother-in-law,
and changes the subject to horses, hounds,
parties -de crickets, itri ti yachts; telling
Ephriam he cx.pects to win enormous sures
of money in bets by new arrangements he
has recently made.
'How, pray?' cries Ephriam, evidently
piqued.
'Why,' replies Tom, 'as you are leaving
England, I don't mind telling you that, as
you have for two years always beaten ma
on the turf at Epsom, and in regattas at the
Isle of Wight, beside steeple chases and
skiff matches, I have determined to regain
my lost honors and money.'
He proceeds to explain that he has bought
the best horse of Lord Yarmouth, as well as
an extraordinary little mare, and had order
ed a clipper, to be built in Newport, on the
model of the America, and a gig from Searle,
on a plan of his own invention. Wi:h the
help of these, in the absence of his brother
in-law, he hoped within fifteen days to have
in his drawing-room the gold cur of the
Derby, and the silver oar of the Lambeth
regattas.
Ephriam Wheat, Esquire, fired by the
challenge, swallows the bait, and exclaims:
'Are You in condition?'
'Feel my arm,' replies Tom Wild.
And Ephriam, 'feeling with all the care
of a surgeon seeking for a fracture, finds the
biceps of his brother-in-law as bard as iron.'
Ho takes leave declaring that he shall delay
his departure to be present at the race.
A month after this conversation, Ephriam
Wheat, Esquire, in a cherry colored jacket,
leather breeches, rind top•boots, galloped past
the stand, beating his only adversary, Tom
Wild, by five lengths. Tom Wild had lost
four or five hundred guineas, and was dis
graced as a jockey, among his friends, the
members of the Coventry; but—noble self
sacrifice!—he had saved his brother-in-lase
from Baltimore and Joe Erickson.
But on the night after this victory, amid
the 'howrahs' which accompanied each liba
tion of port and champagne from the cup of
the Derby, the vision of Joe Erickson, the
Backwoodsman of Baltimore, tormented the
peace of Ephriam Wheat. Soon he again
proposed to sot out for America; but, the
night before hia departure, he is informed
by his valet that Tom Wild has just launched
a gig fifty feet long, in order to challenge
the rowers of the College of Oxford—a col
lege we never heard of before. Forthwith
Ephriam Wheat orders hie trunks to be un
packed, and sends for Mr. Noulton the boat
builder.
The day of the Greenwioh regatta arrives.
Tom Wild makes his light skiff fly over the
muddy waters of the Thames. No Epltrie.rn
Wheat appears. The president begins to
call over the names of the entries. Suddenly
a murmur arises in the crowd on the banks
of the stream. Four stout watermen ap
pear bearing on their shoulders long pi•
rogue made of a single plank of mahogany
bent by steam.' Two of the watermen walk
into the water, waist deep, to float the won
derful canoe. The other two lift into it a
stout fellow dressed in red flannel. 'Hurrah!
for Ephriam Wheat!' cry the crowd. Tom
Wild first shouts with joy; then thinks him
self a fool to sacrifice his reputation to his
brother-in-law. The race begins. Trm
Mild rows his best, but Ephriam wins with
the impossible canoe by a quarter of a
length; and, for a month, forgets Jeo Erick
son.
At the end of that time he rushes in to
Tom Wild, haggard and wretched looking,
to inform him that Joe Erickson had sue
' ceeded in splitting nine bullets on a knife:
and that he is determined to set out, fired
by
the challenge,for America that night:
Tom Wild, ashamed of his double defeat at
Epsom and Greenwich, declares that he will
ga too. They reach Liverpool by the ex;
press train; and, finding that the packet
does not sail for six hours, enter a tavern
on the quay. of course order 'des grogs' and
pile the grate with coal. They are disturbed
by the snoring of a man in a bearskin jacket.
They wake him up. The conversation turns
on pistol-shooting, and Bearskin challenges
Ephriam to hit the head of a nail at fifteen
paces. Ephriam fires first; end the ball;
just glancing off the nail, is buried in the
plaster of the wall. 'Not bad,' cries the
stranger, 'Joe Erickson will not have quite
robbed you of your money.' Joe Erickson?'
exclaim Ephriam and Tom; but at that ma
ment, as the American is driving down a
ball with a mallet, the pistol explodes, and
kills the identical Joe as dead as Julius Ca,-
sar. 'Devil!' exclaims Ephriam Wheat, Es
quire, 'the charge Wad rammed too hart:L—
ife would have missed the rail after all.
lOU 5..! , ` l• • . •'