, . •''' •- • . ,•,,: . :..I ?},'[".''l''. • • •'. ' ' • ' - •.•'' . 1 '•• ' - ..- , ' • : "..i ~....: ;- tg i..:3 “..; .. :, ri. i,41, .!/-..."'" I' .1' i , 171 : :'.• :.r .:..- . ..; i . 1 . • , .• r , ',...,,•,. ':--- -'`.••• -,i -.."' •` - . , .. 5: :. ••-•,., _4. • 1. :: . • ~,.,.. •,:t..,. • „1 „. ,. ... t .. i ..1..: . : ,p , .,:.• et 4.;;; ,... • :, .. , j! . 47...:J.--.",. i:.. I. —I . % ; i 4 : - .....-.., 41.,....„... ..„,.,;.,„, - •,......,,„ ..,, . . . -.....-- . ... _, ..... , . " • . .. :..... ~ • • :. :• ~. ;••••••/, i.. , . _ .. . „ ...a . - :,. •: . :4. I. _ . . , .. .... .i. ......, ;I 7 4., -•'.- ... . .-. . ..• .-: .- -. . r l . ' 11' ; • • . • ' ,- ~..;-,f ".{ f•'` ~.. • .) • .. .. - . . . . , ... . .. ' •", ~, .r , : .. : ..7 4-' : k ' _ . . • , ' .., , SAM TEL WRIGHT, Editor and Proprietor. VOLUME XXVIII, NUMBER 473 ZOBLISIIRD EARLY SATURDAY MORNING Itritein Northern Central Railroad CCM,. pany's twrllt-west corner Front and /Maned streets. Terms of Subscription. 'Oar CaTy.per.T4 "V=lft=hree neerafirs frOirreateMeneernens oftke year, 200 9. 045-22.tass tr 011zovrjr. Tisratbseription received for a less time than six tenths; and no paper will be discontinued until all larreavages axe paid, unless at the optional the pub • fisher. 101-111aney may be remitted by mail at the publish • er's risk. •' Rates of Advertising. square 16 lines) one week, • three weeks, 4 me& suesequeniinsertion, 10 ['Vines) oar week. , 50 three weeks, 1 00 ace subsequent insertion, IS .Larger advertisements in proportion. .A liberal discount will be mode to quarterly, half. yearly! or yearlyadvertisers,who are strictlyconfined to their business. • DR. S. ARMOR, HOMEOPATHIC. PHYSICIAN, COLUMBIA, PA. Orrice emu Itmuesxcz—Second Sueet, one door from Walnut Mardi 13, 1838. II F.Viki% : TUSTICH OF THE PELCE, Columbia, Fa. .0 OFFICE, in Wliipper's New Huiliking, below Black's Hotel, Front street. El — Prompt attention given to all business entrusted to kis care. November 28,1857. DR. G. W. MIFFLIN, • DENTIST, Locust street, a few doors above the Odd Fellows. , Hall, Columbia, Pa. Columbia. May 3. 1856. H. M. NORTH, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW. Coluntbin,Pa. Collections, ; roraptly mode, i n Lancaster and York Counties.. Columbin,Mny 4 1850. J. W. FISHER, Attorney and Counsellor at Law, ColuixeicsLea, dam. Columbia, September it, 146 -if , GEORGE J. SMUT, WHOLESALE and Retail Bread and Cake Baker.—Constantly on hand a variety of Cakes, too numerous to mention; Crackers; Soda, Wine, Scroll, and Sugar Biscuit, Confectionery, of every description, he., 4kc. • Locus' sritiarr, Feb...1. , 50. Between the Bank and Franklin House. • Cold Cream of Glycerine, vo . the Cnre and Prevention of Chap -1 ped Hoods. For elute by Dr. E. B. 11EITR. Col.. Nov. 7,1:47. Golden Mortar Druy, Store WISTIR'S BALSAM. OF WILD CHERRY, for Cough', Coldu, ice., for •ale at McCORICLE & DELLF:TT'S Family Medicine Store, Odd Fellowa' Hull. Columbia, Oct. 31, 1e57. WOOLLEY'S All Healing and Strengthen ing Salve, for xute ut McCO RIMS h DELLETT'S Fa m; Medicine. dtore, Odd Follows' Columbia, 0ct.31.1857. C 0133 Starch, Farina, Rice Flonr, Tapioca, Saga) Oat Meal, Arrow Root. he., at the FAMILY MEDICINE STORE, Odd Fellow.o Hall. Sept. Q6.'57 TOST received, three dozen Dr. Brunon's VI Vegetable Bitters, a certain cure for Dyspepsia; slut, a fresh lot. of Sap Sago and Pine Apple Cheese, Farina and Corn Starch, at D. BERK'S Sept 5, 1557. Grocery and Liquor Store. HAIR DYE ' S, Jones' Batchelor's, Peter's and Egyptian hair dyes, warranted to color the hair ally deeded shade, without injury to the skin. For sale by R. WILLIAMS. May 10, Ffo/11. at., Columbia, Pa. SOM:110N OF CITRATE OF MAGNESIA,or Por gaily° Mineral Water.—This pleasant medicine whteh is highly recommended ns a substitute for Epsom dolts, Seidlitz Powders, dee.. can be obtained fresh every day at Le. E. B. LEEK'S Drug Store, Front at. frt. LIMPS, LAMPS, LAMPS. Just received at Here* Drug ntore, a new and benuntul lot of Lamps of all desemptious. May 2,1857. I"6t I art eo o 'ming just received and for vale by H. SUYI/AM & SUN. ALARGE lot of City eared Dried Beef, just received at U.SUTIOAX iC SON S. Columbia, December 80,1856. TT OOFLAND'S German Batas. For sale at MeCORKI.E & DELLETT'd Family Medicine Store, Odd Fellows' hall. July 25. WV. COUNTY Produce contently on hand an d for sale by 41. SUYDAM & SOS. HOMINY, Cranberries, Raisins, Figs, Aim ands, Walnuts, Cream Nuts, &c., just received SUIVAII 84 40,03. Colombia, Dee. 20,1960 A SUPERIOR lot of Black and Green Teas, Coffee and Chocolate, j ert received 01 OIITDANI h scnes Dee. 20,1856. Corner of Front and Union sts. TUT RECEIVED, a beautiful assortment of It" Glass Ink SLII/14111, at the Headquarters and Neves Depot. Columbia, April 18,1857. EITEA Family and Superfine Flour of the best brand, for •IsiC by U. SUYDAM it SON. TIfST received 1000 lbs. extra double belted Buckwheat Meal, at Dee.9o. MU'. H. SUYDAM &BOWS. WMERL'S Instantaneous Yeaot or Baking Powder, for sale by 11. SUYDAM & SON. - ORR k TBODIPSON'S justly celebrated Com mercial and other Gold Pens—the b.lit in the anarket•—illelreoeived. r. SaI:LEINER. Columbia, A ern:M.lB5S. WRY should apyperson do without a Clock, when they can be had forlll,Boand upwards. t SHREINER'S? .Cotambia,Arril2S,lMS BRIT 111 Imported Harlem Oil, for sale at Nil Dr. E. B. HR R'S Golden Mortar Drug Store, Prom otreet.. Colombia, Pa. [Feb. 6. IPS& nwatur. AND Dl,OOll. OIL CLOTIIS, 3711 widthh IL and Carpectiags e fot sate chop. by Om 10,1837. 1. O. 11R1JNER is CO. MEATS ANDCAPS, suitable for the season, and at krer prices,auite Corder ofThird'and Union sts. Lc)!)KIN . .Corper tar Tined and ffluiou sts. _u 1.10.18 CHELP Whiac,Bed and 'WedLow Wool Fildstetaant Wool Yarn, of 101 dolor* 6614.1451a1itie.. at October Id, 1957. BRUNER'S. SALT by the sack or baabal. and Mackerel by the barrel or retail, at 1.0. ORAMER fr. Co 8. October 10.11117. Pssomus •ND `TORACC6, or different j brands, wholesale mid cotsll, h_y October 10, 11157. - • i.e. BRUNER& CO. MARLS and Rock Sals„ by tkc sack or bunkel,fin sate loot. by Ott.lo, E ORATE'S ELECTRIC OIL.. had receive.D itaalituipply of tais papaw' rammed?, sad Coe oak by , R. WILLIAMS. /Jay 10,1IM. PeoatScreet, Colombia, Pa. 4,,ARGEasporMsead allopeo. all size. and leapas, 4l oa bead and Coracle at - 7110$. WELSH'S._ March It, - 1957. " No. T. Hier street. • 4 NEW let of WHALE AND CAA. GREASING 'OILS, received at the stereo(' the subscriber. R. WILLIAMS. • 19 1956. Front Street, Columbia, Pa. CEEI The sunbeams, lost for half a year, Slant through my pane their morning rays; For dry Northwesters cold and clear, The East blows in its thin blue haze, And first the snowdrop's bells are seen, Then close against the sheltering well The tulip's horn of dusky green, The peony's dark unfolding ball, The golden-chalked crocus burns; The !ant nozeissus-blades appear; The cone-beaked hayacinth returns, And liens her blue-flamed chandelier. The willow's whistling lashes, wrung By the wild winds of gusty breech, With sallow leaflets lightly strung, Are swaying by the tufted larch. The elms have robed their slender apriy With full-blown dower and 'embryo leafy Wide o'er the claapitts arch of day Soars like a cloud their hoary chief. —[Sec the proud tulip's flaunting cup, That lames in glory (or au hour,— Behold it withering,—then look up,— How meek the forest-monarch's flowar'.— When wake the violets, Winter dies; Whera sprout the elin-buds, Spring is near; When lilacs blossom, Summer cries, 4 'llnd:little roses! Spring is here!l The windows plush with fresh bouquets,: Cut with the Mar-dew on their lips; • The radish all its bloom displays Pink as Aurora's fingertips. for less the good or light that showers Oa beauty's changed corollwiltades,— The walks are gay as bridal bowers With rows of many-petalled maids. The scarlet shell-fish click and clash In the blue barrow where they slide; The horseman, proud of streak and splash, Creeps homeward from his morning's rids !Sere comet the dealer's awkward string, With neck in rope and tail in knot,— Rough colts, with careless country-awing, In lazy walk or slouching trot. —Wild fitly from the mountain side, Doomed to the close and chafing thills, Lend me thy long, untiring stride To seek with thee thy western bills! I hear the whispering voice of Spring, The thrush's trill, the cat-bird's cry, Like souse poor bird with prisoned wing That site and sings, but longs to fly. Oh for one spot of living green,— One little spot where leaves can grow,— To love unblamed, to walk unseen, TO dream above, to sleep below! (Atlantic Hintlay On the twenty-second of August, fourteen hundred and egbty-five, a poor woman hav ing started from the town of Leicester, on the previous day, was pursuing her journey on foot, with a little boy some two or three years of age strapped on her back, and a small bundle in a handkerchief in her hand. As they proceeded they were incommoded by the rapid marching of numerous bodice of men, all armed and intent on some great business. In answer to her questions, a soldier would sometimes tell her to move on and hold her tongue; but once or twice a more civil respondent informed her there was a great fight townward, and that the pre tender Richmond was marching to London, and King Richard was leading them to meet the invader. The woman had never heard of either Richard or Richmond—there having been no political newspapers in those days—and went on without fear. When she came to a large and open field, she saw the armies drawn up in hostile array, and being afraid to force her'vray through, - and too tired to take the necessary roundabout, she was fain to rest herself under a thorn bush at one end of the Florin. Putting her little son upon his legs, and telling him not to move from her side, she watched the pro-' ceedings of the forces before her, without being able to imagine what they were doing or what it was all about. At the end of a tremenduous crowding and yelling, and shoving and hurrahing, - she sawn. man very hot and tired throw something; she could not tat/ what, upon the thick-leaved bush under which she lay, and gallop off with all "Tommy," she said to the child, "what's that the gentleman flings among the branches?" "Odds bodkins!" babbled the child, "it's the fine hat o' St. Thomas from our church at home." • "Can thee reach it, Tommy, dear?" "Eee, if theell bowid I tip to't." The woman cautiously rose, and raising the boy in her arms, was in the act of bold ing him forward to grasp the Bain t's hat, when a great bevy of horsemen rode up, One leaped from• his shed, impetuously dashed at the hush, upsetting the poor woman and her boy, and seised the glittering prise. "The English crown, by'r ladyel" he said; and kneeling on one knee, offered it to a pale, vitamins looking gentleman, who had dismounted from his horse. The gentieman,towever, smiled and said. "You know the plaon that fits it, Lord Stan ley,"' and bent his head as be spoke. Lord Stanly pat it over the auburn locks of the cavalier, and ,immediately a great cry was heard all over the field: "God save King Uonryt 'pod save the King?" Tho woman seeing what a. treasure, she hid 'Missed, began 'to exclaim:' Please remember me; 0 King, for it was My little" Toraniythitt found that *;‘) crown" ' ' "Did you my little . , man! " said lianizi happy to take otfense'at anything. . I. o. naumrs co. I Inttrg. Spring Has Come. HT OLIVES NVENDAIS, 1101=6. = griertivt,s. Long Life 'Under Difficulties "NO ENTERTAINMENT IS SO-CHEAP AS READINO,-NOR'LA.NY COLUMBIA, PENI4 MAT :29;1858; "I 'feckins I did,'ZT replied the, Child,- in its indistinct kind of prattle. . • „. , "Here, give him some money,, ,some, you," said the generous and ecororqical monarch; and several purses were instantly, thrown into the woman's lap. The. party were turning.away. "Another thing, may it please you," said the woman. "I've beard down in Shrop shire that the king's touch cures the evil; now Tommy be very bad, and can't livn.un less he be delivered—" . The king stroked ,thc boy, on ,the chin, half in sport, and mid; "Do you want „to be cured, my boy?" , . , • , "St. Doddlekine if 1 don't,", said. Tommy; and the operation was complete._ The child we have : said was not . more . than three years of age,, but .ther. .werealready deep f inarka,upon his, face, and in dentions almost like wrinkles nponhisluvw. He looked prematurely old and his ,saintly. aUusionl, and, very, decided way of _speech gave furtnerevidence that his mode of thought was greatly in 'advance of his Jeers. He was very little, and was feeble, on his, legs. So, when the battle was over, the mother strapped him again upon her back, a,cidwith light heart and heavy pocket, recommenced her journey to Shropshire. On first coming in sight of the Wrekin, so great was bar delight that she•suddenly stopped and fell upon her knees. Tommy, who had climbed upon her shoulder, was precipitated .over her head, wad. fell. with great violence on the ground. - • • . "Drat the child," said • the.unfeeling• pa rent; !.'thee can't live to enjoy thy-fortune, if thee breaks thy bones in this guise. Get up, Tommy. ;rust thee snapt off.thy tother leg? for the right one bo scarce mended since the millers donkey kicked it in twain. Art thee killed?" she cried, in a louder voice when Tommy,lay quiet. "Clean dead such a tumble as this—" The boy opened his eyes,and said, Potterkind, I think I be." . The woman gathered him up as if •he had been a broken piece of crockery. —"Thee bast cracked thy two legs," she said, "and, three of thy ribs; thou bast had measles that crooked thy back, and hoopingeough that wore out thy chest! thou , bast king's• evil, and art in a deep decline, and canet eat nothing, and never sleeps o' night.— Thee can't live, Temmy." "Hold the tongue o' thee," replied the invalid. "By the Splutters of York, I won't die nowhere but in my little bed at home.— So, get thee on, mother, for I think I shall never survive the sundown." Tommy, however, did survive, and when twenty years were past he had grown to his full height, which was not much, and was strong for so very delicate a person, and as his mother before her decease had pointed out to him the rafter between which and the thatch she had hidden the ransom money of the ECglish crown, ho considered himself above the necessity of work, and indulged in complete idleness and independence.— Being idle and independent, he did many foolish things; among the rest, he fell in , love. A girl was coming through the church yard with a pail of water upon her head, a beautiful, fair-haired, light-figured girl—the ornament of the village. This was Tom my's sweetheart. "Good evening, Susan Freddy," he said. "Fatherland! how sweet thou lookest; give us a kiss, Susan." "Out o' my gale, Tommy the trifler," said Susan, but stopping nt his address. "What would such a dying like apparation do .wi' a kiss if I gi'd ye one?" " 'Twould maybe keep me alive," replied Tommy, for I've such a pain in the chest." "Try a poultice," replied the• fair physi cian; little brown paper and tar would be o' more use to a ghost than over a kiss of mine." • "I feckins," said Tommy, "perhapsyou're right. I really wish I could die once for good, for nobody ever thinks I can live a year. Hark ye, Susan Proddy, I like thee so that I wish to make thee rich. If thou'lt mar ry me I promise to die within twelvemonths, and thee shall have all my coin." "That be a good and tempting offer Tom : - my," replied the girl, with a laugh, "and I'll think on't.. Clear the road, or I'll souse thee with the water can." And so saying, she brushed past the unfortunate wooer, and tripping gracefully over the stile, was lost to view. "Dodderflops!" said Tommy, "if I could only hope to live a few years—but it is use less to hope it. I've had the jaundice, and the small-pox, and the sweating sickness; I've broke all my bones; I've had my head cracked; I've had my jaws out of joint; I have a cough as loud as a shepherd's dog; I have falling sickness; I have a complaint in my liver; I have a twist in the spine; I have ague every spring anti autumn, and scarlet fever every summer; I have enlargement of the heart, and disease of the kidneys, and elongated uvula; and lumbago every winter, and sciatica all the year. a I marvel I doesn't die." But the marvel continued, and when twen ty years or more were past, Tommy was still a walking catalogue of human woes.— Every part of bins seemed to go wrong except the heart. lie was Witt to his only love, Susan Proddy; but Susan had left the vii lage for a long time. Stir) had married'one Dodger, a, miller deem Valelleld,' and had forgotten all about Teo:oy, the trifler; and his proposal of marrlage; But Tomaty_had never forgotten her. In the Inidat'of all his pains and diseases her image Isfen- shrilled, the, snly. bright-. thing,that shone upon Tommy's darkened. life.l4 He kept himself.comutantly informed 'of .all _her :pm-, eeedings; 1-When news •camo of her_t6 the. village,Toremj , listened with morn efirnest ness.mnd interest than 'any - one 'else; and once, when he was absent for'five - weeks, it began, to be whispered than he had 'been making inquiries where Wakefield was, rind how the journey to so distant a plaCe might be accomplished; and shortly after 'that a rumor came to Susan •Proddy's- mother, that a - stranger had stopped the nurse who.waa earrylog - Susates child, and had..kissed-the baby and placed round its neck a"goldchain and a ring, with a beautiful coronet on the seal, so that the . mother -flattered that the donor was a great lord, and nrined 'Prosperity to her daughter from so propitiona an event. Tommy heard the4eport with great satisfaction. "Odds splutterface!" he said, as he lay groaning on his bed with gout and rheumatism, in addition to angina pei4oris-and - spaims in' the itomach. '"I be glad the nobleman's - chain and - ring, a' mother's old purse, is so highly valued. Ah, Susan Proddy! the miller never loved thee as I did=and its very hard that I Can't ci pect to live maim than a few moaths; for shOuld' like . to see what comes o' thy fair child—the nurse called her Susan Proddy, which - gave me palpatation of the heart. 0, if I could live twenty years to learn what fortune befalls the darling Susan'the second it stint o' no use wishing. I shall be done in three weeks. But Tommy was again disappointed.— Eighteen years after his visit to Wakefield, ' he foUnd his way to Warwick, where, in St. Mary's church, a noble marriage was to take place. Stephen Honeydew was about to become the happy husband of Susan Prod dy.'s daughter, lovely Susan Proddy Dodger; and from a gallery at the side our friend, the valetudinarian was a witness to the ceremony. Susan Proddy, now Mrs. Dod ger, had lost some portion of her youthful beauty, for she was now rather crooked, and not so graceful in her walk as when we saw her crossing the churchyard with the water pail on her head. But in Tommy's eyes she wits. Venus, and all the Graces still. As ,the ,procession went forth, he stvgered down to the porch, and placed himselLso exactly in the middle that the bride was forced to touch him with her sleeve as she glided past. Thetottehof her arm gave him newlife. He ceased to cough for a moment; a flow-of warm blood rushed into his heart. He looked round for the original Susan Proddy, but a fat man at her side pushed him out of the way. , 10 "Spladders!" exclaimed the invalid, "I always hated that miller—but what's the use o' hating or liking either? I can't have long to live, only it would bo so pleasant to survive to see if there's ever a family from this here wedding. I'll keep my ears open for this Master Honeydew, but they can't keep open long. I've got the colic, . and knots on my ankles and cataract in my eye, and swelling in my joints, and a wen on my neck, and carbuncles on my arm. So I must get home in time to die:" Perhaps all these diseases counteracted each other, and left Tommy in perfect health. He found means before ho left Warwick to forward to the bride another ring which he had taken out of his mother's store: a plain gold ring with the commencement of the motto ".Aoni," perhaps it was' the ring of Richard himself, or at all events an Knight of the Garter; and having placed this last memorial of his affection for Susan Proddy in the hands of her daughter, ho returned in peace to his native village. And did he die? No. Ho had said he would keep his ears open, but many things passed in those agitating days of English history which never reached the Shropshire village where the afflicted Tom resided. Mr. Honeydew, who had married Susan the sec ond, was' a constable and sheriff's'officer, who made himself very useful to Henry the Eighth. He ferreted out rich abbots, and turned nuns out of their houses. He hanged refractory monks with his own bands, and enriched himself with the spoils of the mon asteries. When a cloud came over his for tunes in Mary's time ho turned it aside - by wearing a white sheet, and, after penance, being received into the holy church. He compensated for past sacrileges by presiding at the Smithfield fires. He broke Latimer's head with a blow of a billet of wood, and pierced Cranmer with a red-bot poker. He was a servant of his sovereign and his Conn try,nnd thought obedience the first duty of a subject. When Elizabeth came into power be re canted once more, and was so useful in the discovery of plots, and exacting fines from traitors, that he died immensely rich, and was buried in Westminster Abbey: . Of all these eltatieti'Tommy continued ignorant. He bad been surprised at the visit of certain commissions to purify the church of popery and break all the crosses; and after a' few years ho was again astonished by another visit of other commissioners to introduce popery again, and restore crosses. "Faddlekicke," he said to an officer of the first commission, in the year fifteen hundred and forty-four, "who sent thee here to break off Bridget's nose and take away the thumb nails of SL Jockster of Covetntry2" , "Who but the great man Master Honey dew,",replied the man, while he plied the hammer and split St. Bridget's shoulder into fifty fragment/. "lie is a stout and true hearted Protestant, and high in favor with our Lord the King." 1 =OM in fifteen htindred ml4l:fifty:five he 1 : "By cross and who has sent thee hither with, thy ti(iiv'i,ei/4d wooden image? 'NE old Birihefrivas - good - enOugh for we." by, Air Stephen Honeydew," relied' the Map, firing the saint against the wall by a long nail through' her leg. Ile is true - and holy Catholic, and high in favor with our Lady the Queen.", - "Odds Wiggington!" said Tommy, "can this be the, husband, of Susan Proddy's child?" And he made inquiry, and found that the' daughter of Dodger, the miller of Wakefield, was Lady Honeydew, one of the grandest ludieS' abOut the court. "Hatt .she ever a son?" he inquired of the work man, Who was . giving Baidget's cheeks a rub with.sand paper. • "Ah, marry bath she," he said, "a goodly boy of ten years old. He never misseth a burning of• heretics; for already the saints have•given him a spirit of the true faith." "I wish I could look on him afore I die," said. Tommy," but: there ain't no chance:— I've lost my teeth; my head be bald; my back be bent; I ha' no taste in my mouth; I have singing in my ears; I've congestion of• the spleen; I've a softening of the brain; 'l'm afflicted with dropsey; I've erysipelas in the face; I've got lumbar abscess and in termittent fever. I must get me to bed, and die in a day at furthest." But Tommy was deceived once more.— When the churchyard of the village was filled with two or three more generations•of his coteraporaries; when Elizabeth was suc ceeded on the seat which she had made a throne by a Scotch pedant who made it a schoolmaster's stool; when all the England of his early days had disappeared, and the battle of Bosworth had begun to be consid ered pretty nearly as ancient as the battle of Marathon, there came down a gentleman to the little Shropshire village, and inquired his way to Tommy's cottage. "How do, father?" he said, jauntily lift ing up his Spanish hat, and lotting the feather trail on the kitchen floor. "We have heard of thee at court, old gentleman, and the king wishes to see thee. Say, wilt jog Londonward, and shake hands with King Charles?" "I 'feckins I will," said the old man; "for by'r ladye I began my knowledge of kings pretty early, seeing I saw one day both King Richard and King Henry. But, by the crook o' Weston, we must make haste, for I havn't long to live now." "Have with you tire.: • "," said the gallant. "You shall be the guest of my Lord Bremer ly, and shortly shalt thou see his Majesty." Lord Bremerly received the Shropshire pbasant very kindly, Lady Bremerly was delighted to study such an old "put," and with the tasteful graciousness of the time amused herself by putting vinegar into his beer, and filling his apple-pie with pepper and mustard, and tying ribbons across his path to make him fall; and once succeeded in tripping him at the top of the great stair case, and had hint taken up insensible when he had reached the lowest step. AU the gay people in the neighborhood were enchanted at the infantile playfulness of the countess. She was the most aristocratic of all the fami lies in the countiy, and so indeed was her lord; between them they constituted the very acme and perfection of high birth and noble breeding. "Do you know," she said one day to Tom my, "that some.of my ancestors came from Shropshire—'tis an immense time ago, be fore the Crusades, I believe—and even you wern't born then. Look—this ring and ehaiu—did you ever see anything more quaint and old?" "Odds Sitters!" he said, "I've seed they before. Tell me, fair mistress, what was the name of thee afore thou wast married to my lord?" "My father was Earl of Boshfield," she said, with a laugh; "great grandson of the famous Sir Stephen Honi D'Euz, who was so great a man in Henry's and Mary's time. He married—let me see, bore's a book that tells us all about thom—he married Susan Proddy, and was descended from a noble family who came over with William, and assumed their name from the motto of their house, Pro Deo et rege. See, hero is the ring with a coronet, and under it the words." "I knowed her well," said Tommy. "She was Susan Proddy's child, as married Dodger, the miller of Wakefield." The countess laughed long and loud,— "You pronounce the names incorrectly, Master Thomas. She married Reginald D'Ozier, the head of the great family of the D'Oziers of Coutances, who were called the millers from their prodigious strength and the battle axe with which the fought in tho Holy Land; and you degrade them into th. plebeian Dodger! See, here is another ring, with the explanation of the name you ca Honeydew." .She took from . a cupboard a plain gold ring, and showed it to her visitor. "Jackersl but this is more odd nor the otberl I sent that 'ere to thy grandmother's grandmother the day she married the con stable in 'Warwick church. And I do tell thee, the name was Susan Proddy and Ste phen honeydew. I seed 'em both, and I wanted to marry' thy grandmother's great grandmother myself, and I would, too, only I was so sickly and weak." "Get. thee to thy butter-hatch, and get strong," said the countess, pettishly. "Thou host outlived thy strength and memory; and I will hve thee "cudgeled to death if thou bre r ithest: word more about your honeydews a l nd Proddys and Dodgers." $1,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; .$2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE. Tommy hobbled as well ho was able to the buttery, and there endeavored to recover his courage and drown hisremembrauces of Susan with such copious draughts of beer that in less than a week he expired of reple tion and indigestion. ne was buried•at the expense of the illustrious family of the Iloni D'Eux, and on his tombstone was written: "J memory of Thomas Parr, who died in tic year 11335, ai the age of one . hundred andfifty•three." A Night in a Railway Station Who does not remember the night of January, 1856, when, after a cold day, with deep snow on the ground, there canto up that furious, bitter wind which piled drifts along our streets, filled up our railroads, and buried for the rest of the winter many a lit tle country lane? I do, for one, and will tell you why. A dear friend of mine who lived at on the Delaware, about ten miles from the city, was very ill, and twice a week, during the winter, I went to see her, going out by the Now York railroad, which passes close by her residence. On that Tuesday I went out in the mor ning as usual, and when it was time for me to return to the city, my friends sent me in their sleigh to the.station house, and left me there about seven o'clock in the evening, momentarily expecting the ears. Another sleigh drove up, and a young la wns lifted out by an elderly gentleman, she called "Uncle." "I don't like to leave you here, Nell," he said. "Why, dear Uncle, has not father done it every week this. winter? The conductor knows us, and brother Will always meets me at the depot. I wouldn't miss to-night for anything. lam going to sing Costa Diva, you know, and I have been practicing it this six months, for one of these musical evenings. Why, I must go. Don't you see it is imperative. Father trusts me alone.— lie will be alarmed if I do not return to night." "Well, well. But it is so bitter cold, and blowing so," he added, doubtfully. "Never mind. In five minutes at farthest I shall be in a good, warm car. In another half hour with Will in our carriage, and soon after that snug at home. So, don't worry about me; and don't wait, uncle.— You know you promised amityou would not wait; she said it was madness to go out at I ail with your sore throat. I have come so often alone, why need you fear now?" ' "Well, are you. warm? The wind goes to one's bones!" "Do look at my furs! Lined cloak, muff, shoes and all." "Well, I shall leave John here with you Good night, dear." "Good night, uncle." Hardly her uncle out of sight when she turned to John, the coachman, who was stamping his feet upon the platform— " Are you very cold, John?" she asked. "Yes, miss. S got chilled gearing up, and I'm after forgetting my tippet." Another sleigh jingled up. Out of it sprang a tall young gentleman, muffled up in a thick shawl. The driver had a lan tern, and taking it from him, the gentleman held it aloft and surveyed those who were to be his fellow passengers. "Ah, Miss Clare, how do you do;" be ex claimed, gladly. And Miss Clare answered his greeting,•callibg him Mr. Woodworth. Ile went on to say-how - surprised ho was that be was in time for the ears, for the snow had been so drifted that he had been more than an hour in reaching the station, lie had only come on because ho thought the cars might be a little behind time on account of the snow. Miss Clara, too, had thought she would never arrive; and she was so sorry for poor John, whom her uncle had left to take care of her, and who would be most frozen in waiting and walking home. "Let him go in the sleigh with my man; he passes your uncle's house," said the gen tleman. "I shall be most . happy to take care of- you. Ws a bed night for walking —the - wind •is so searching and the snow drifted." Miss Clare gladly assented, and I was heartily pleased to see the poor, ehilled fol low wrapped up in a robe, driving off in comfort. We heard aftervraids that on ar riving at her uncle's, he reported that as the cars were coming, he thought he might leave Miss Ellen in Mr. Woodworth's care. So her relatives passed the night in comfort of mind and body. The station house was a 'little frame building consisting of only one room, with no fire in it. It sheltered us from the wind, but nevertheless it began to get bitter cold, and I listened eagerly for the cars.. A half hour passed and they had not come. My two companions in misfortune still talked merrily, with an occasional wonder at the delay, and speculation on its cause. Mr. Woodworth had hung the lantern upon a high nail, and I could often see their faces. That of Miss Clara was pretty and delicate. Just now it was all smiles and rosiness.— Mi. Woodworth's was dark, moustachioed and handsome. I was much interested in the pair, Vat my interest met with no return, for neither of them noticed 'me any more than if I was invisible. • I' knew by their conversation that they were'not"mere acquaintances: Theieswiui subdued, half expressed tone, sometimes a ![WHOLE NUMBER, 1,452. warmth, and sometimes a hesitation, which seemed significant to me. r imagine that the circumstance of their being so alone here made them more reserved, imposing a. sweet restraint, which secretly whispered how near they were to each other: Another hour passed. Even the lovers were cold now. The cutting wind stole in at innumerable crannies, piled heaps of snow here and there on the floor, and swept across the railroad as if it would carry our little tenement with it. The telegraph lines sounded out long, wild notes, the Storm King's own Alolian harp; making fearful music for his majesty. The fine, hard snow, driven against the thin walls, seemed like a battery of needles. "The snow must hare drifted very much to detain the train so long; perhaps we had better return," said Mr. Woodworth. "That would be impossible. I could not walk so far in this wind, even if there were no snow drifts," the lady answered. "But I would call at your uncle's and send the sleigh for you." .'.' She cast an uneasy, fearful look around, and then an appealing one at him. "You are afraid to be left alone? Then I certainly shall not leave you." I observed the fondness of tone was bal anced bye studied look and manner. "The cars will surely be here inn minute or two, now," she answered hopefully, "and. if they should come while you are gone! I feel afraid to-night." I knew it were in vain for mo to attempt to reach my friend's residence, but I felt that I must stand still or sit still no longer. I must walk about briskly or I should to sleep. I commenced the agonizing prom enade, which did not cease till hour after hour passed by, for I.did not dare to stop. At first I was in such pain with my hands and feet that I was quite heedless of my companions, and my attention was not ar rested until I heard low murmured words of comfort. I looked at Miss Clare, tears forced by pain were rolling down her cheeks, and Mr. Woodworth was pitying her. lie begged her to take his shawl, ,but she posi tively refused. "No, no," she kept replying, "I don't want it indeed! Do, pray, keep it on—you will freeze without it. I can't bear to see you take it off." • Concern for him was in her tone. "Then allow me," he . said, with a gentle apologetic glance, and drew her within it— close to him—into the warm shelter of his I= The necessity excused it. She felt that it did, and did not refuse to let him hold both of her hands in one of his. Thus for ono Of us, at least, was happi ness wrung from that bitter night. I continued my painful walk; I 9arewmy arms about like a coachman. I rubbed my hands and stamped my feet; I ran and jumped. I would not let the death-sleep creep over me. My frantic walk was always past the window, and I stopped each time to look for the glowing rod eye of the locomo tive—how ninny thousand times to turn away in disappointment. The lovers stood in silence. At last I saw:that her head'reAed upon his shoulders, her whole weight leaning upon his arm.— She was almost sleep, while he only thought of the delight of such a burden. "Sir," I ventured to say to him, "your charge is in a critical state." "Be so kind as to let her alone, sir," said he angrily. "She is losing the sense of pain." "She will sleep away her life, sir," I an swered, "you had better let her suffer— shake her roughly--you had better arouse her even by sharp pain than let her die!" "My lore!" he cried, starting, affrighted, and holding her from him; "my darling, my very life! wake up!" She opened her eyes languidly, smiled, leaned upon his shoulder, and fell asleep. With one arm around her waist and the other grasping her hand, he tried to make her walk. Her feet refused to• move; ho was only dragging her along. "You must rouse her sharply said I. "What can I do?" "Pinch her, or shako her." Ile threw an indignant glance at me. "You are answerable for her life," I said warningly. He hesitated, but did not re sort to my measure. Ile stooped over her and gently kissed her cheek. It was enough. Her bewildered eyes sought his face. Was it to make the cure complete or was it only an afectionate impulse that be more warmly and hastily repeated the remedy? She drew back, and the warm blood mounted through her pale cheeks to her very brow. go et plained in deep, earnest tones. She was aroused and walked as quickly as she could to and fro, rather seeming to avoid leaning upon his arm. Yet she was not angry. ' When she became fully able to stand alone, ho asked me to walk with her, and then once nose seeing that the shawl was wrapped around her, for she had it all now, he went to the door. Miss Clare sprang towards him. "You will not go out to perish in the snow-drifts! You will not leave us alone!--- Oh, Mr. Woodworth, the cars will be her•- in a minute, perhaps. Oh, stay with me!" "I must make the attempt to reach son! • house. I should not have forgotten every thing in my own happiness, as I have r• 'culpably done. You must have warmth an , care, or else, poor beautiful darling, yvt may die!"
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