SAMUEL WRIGHT, Editor and Proprietor. VOLIDIE XXIX, NUMBER 9L] PUBLISHED MU MURRY MORNING Office in Northern Central Railroad Cern rang' s Building,north-westcorner Front ant, rianut streets. Terms of Subscription. Fite Copy per artnum.i f puld in advance, s• •• •• if not ;mid within three snonthsfrom commencement of the year, 200 ea. Coate Copy. No subscription received for la less Lima than *is months; and no paper will be discontinued until al , infrearages are patd,uniessat the option of the pub fisher. TEr %Toney may be remitted by mail atthepublisle et's. risk. Rates of Advertising. 1 square [6 lines] one week, 40 OS •• three weeks. each iutisequentinsertion, 10 [l2lines3 one aver 50 three weeku. 00 as enell n =crawl. 25 Larceradvertisemeni,ta proportinn .1%. I iberni ilt.roacit will he inaile to gal rierly. hal yearly or yearly id sertisers,who are otrictllconfined to their business. lintrg. The Jolly Mariner: A. BALLAD roux 0 'RIX D. was a jolly mariner As ever hove n log . ; He wore Ids trowsers wide end free, And alwros ale his prog, And blessed his eyes, in sailor-wise, And never sLirked his grog,. Up spoke tai. jolly nimbler. Whilst u Biking up end down •'The briny sea bus ptnkled toe, And done me vet, Epown; 'But here I goes. in these here clothes, A cruising in the town:' The 51 , 4 fir all the curious things That chanced hi.' eye to meet, As this undaunted cornice Went sailingup the street, Wa-, tripping with a little came, A dandy all eompletel Ile stopprd.—that jolly mariner,— And eyed the stranger well:— ' , Whit; that may be,'' he caul, says he, “ls more ihus I cut to I; But neer before on sea or chore, Was such x hotot) lie met a lad) in her ho.-poi, And than lieaid ban hail: "Now blow me tight: but there's a Bight To manage al In go t 1 new r saw so saint' a ,•raft With -sett a spread o' soil! "Observe lbe emit. be on, nod er:, She'd make a pretty prize' . And dn.. nuprop , r way, He s; ot.e about but ey That martnma are wont to Lice 111 anger ur surprt.e. lie Pow a plumber on a roof, Who tondo 14 1111,111) 111,1:• - ": , lopotate ahoy! , the rov, r tried, `lt makes a oat or ;trio To sea) no copper•bottoming Vour upper-Llt.clhs woo tad He met a yrllow•beurdrd matt, Amd asked about the way, But ow a w trd could tte mate out of w•hut the. clap would . 1.711:.6 he meant to cull him names, By ncreaming'•Nix fur-m 11" Up spoke thi- jolly isr.rieer, A At() the mail i'iod he, "I bravely% sated there thirty years elm the Ftor/n To bear the qltame of such a _name As I have heard 'rola thee! "So take thou thatr'—nna laid mum flat, But soon the man am•e, A lid heat the jol y mariner Acme hi• hi,. Idly ito4e, Till he was faun. truant very pain, To) icid him to the blows , Twas then tii• jolly manner, A wr tehed jo ly tor, Wished he was in njolly boat Upon the sett u far, Or riding fast, before the blast, Upon a tangle ,Tarl Twu.. then IMAM:Iy mariner Returned unto bis +hip, And told unto the wondertug crew The awry of los trip, IV,th many oaths and curses, too, Upon his wicked IT: As hoping—so this mariner In fearful words hamngurd— Ilis timbers might he shivered, end His leward scnppers danged, (A double curse, and vastly worse Than being shot or hanged') If ever he—and here again A dreadful oath ho swore— If ever he, except at sea, Spoke any ignancr more, Or like a son of—something—went Arusing oaths shorn! gEtEttiDll,s. Front t'humbere Journal The Cock and Bull Club. I have never seen a ghost, and I don't want to see one. If anything of that nature, under a mistaken notion of benefiting me by warning me of a danger, or pointing out a treasure-hole, or putting me up to a good thing on a future sporting event, should pre sent itself, I should be frightened to death; there would, if I know myself, be another ghost in the room in about half a minute.— As for devilmay-care dogs who visit necrop °lines alone and at midnight, or who are prepared to .eit up in their solitary beds and pronounce their own names solemnly three times, with the intention of raising their fa miliar spirits—l don't believe such creatures exist. What man dare do—n-ith reason and respectability—l dare; "who dares d o more," I have good authority for stating, "is none." When a certain spectral light steals into my bed-chamber upon a sudden, I am accus tomed to make me a sort of Crimean tent of the blankets, whereupon I emerge only at long intervals to breathe; I have lost more pounds of flesh in this manner, thmugl, moonbeams, than any African traveler sur renders to the sun. Well do I remember that particular terror in my boyhood, which resulted in my remaining at five feet seven, nstead of six feet one and a half—the alti tude attained by each of my brothers; that •hock from which my constitution took two entire years to - recover itself, during which, at youth's most growing time—l did not apt preach the stars by a single inch. I was about nine years of age when the frightful incident occurred, and what is called—by very old persons who have forgotten what school was—a happy school boy; that term, however, was, just then, applicable to me enough, since I had got away from my place of durance and instruction for a few days of Easter vacation. I was staying at the house of a cousin, who lined in the outskirts of a large provincial town, of which—as I kept in mind with unutterable awe—he was then the Mayor. Cousin Richard was short and stout to a degree that I should be now in clined to term "podgy;" but being invested with this supremo and mysterious dignity, ho seemed to me to possess a presence more imposing than that of any other being upon the earth's surface. When he said: "You must sleep in the red room, Harry, since you are so fund of getting up early, and then you won't disturb the house in the morning, in putting on your boots," I submitted without remonstrance. That I did like getting up early—so that I might enjoy as much of the present immunity from my schohutic privi leges as possible—that I did commonly make a tremendous noise in pulling on my boots, was true enough; but that I should be put in the red room, the state-apartment dedi cated to exalted guests, away from the rest of the house, and,—almost to a certainty —haunted, seemed a mode of prevention worthy of the worst days of the inquisi tion. Had my father proposed such a proceeding, liad my schoolmaster, had, indeed, any authority with whom I could grapple, and of whose powers I could cal culate the extent, I would have protested manfully; but the edict of the Mayor ap peared to settle the matter beyondE lispute. arid I knocked under at uneo with an Asiatic servility. 51 50 I need not say how the rest of that after noon was embittered by the thought of the night that was to tbllow; those who are ac quainted with such terrors can easily enough imagine them; those who are not can never be mittle to understand them by mere de scription. Enough to say that ulanat nine o'elock, P. M., I found inyi-elf in the big bed in the red room. inn cold b.rth of per spiratioti, with toy eye: tightly closed, eteleavorin4 to go to sleep bef ire the adults of the house should have :mired. As long as the of tongues anti feet continued. however much ill the distance. my mind would. I knew, be emnporatively tranquil.. and sul t ieet to the influence of the dreamy god; but if ~nee the sense of solitude should creep over me. slumber would become inn. possible, and I should fall a victim to the dreadful powers of darkness for the rest of the night. I did go to sleep, in accordance with these prufouod calculations; but unhappily, and C intrary to them. I awoke about three hours afterward.. It was midnight. I did not require the weird accents of the cuckoo-chick upon the stairs to tell me that. I ptisses.sed as acrrtc a perception of that ghostly time a jahlermei: of their diimer hour. or station masters. of the period when the night express is wont to firt4t fur a moment between the trembling walls. The moon {Vag shining through the shutterless windows, and throw ing all kinds of suspicious shadows atito-t the old red rooom. Red room. Why red? The marrow in my youthful bones caught such a chill at the bare idea, that I did not care to _repeat the question. Two oaken cupboards, which in my haste I had forgot ten to examine, began to harass me with anzieties about their contents. I slipped cautiously out of bed. Good heavens, was somebody holding on to my nightgown, or —? No; it was a long one, and I had trod den upon it with my own foot—that was all. I approached the doors, and, without taking the liberty of opening them, turned their keys, which happened fortunately to be out side of them. Comforted with this ingeni ous device of my own, I had retired to my couch, and was once more courting slumber. when a tormenting thought seized hold. of Alia,trie .11ori flay me and roused me up again. I had forgot ten to look under the bed. I lay awake, en deavoring to reason with myself upon so absurd an anxiety, but nothing came of it, except a singing of the ears and increased suspicion. I thought I heard respirations from under the mattress; I heard groans; I began to feel the mattress move under me. "No, dash it nil!" cried I, as I sprang to my feet and lifted the valance, "I an, not going to be frightened to death in this man ner, by nothing." By nothing! Oh, was it nothing, though, that met my affrighted gaze under that bed! I was beneath the blankets in about a quarter of a second afterwards, in a state of terror that absolutely for a little time deprived me ofsensation. My imagination, fertile as it always had been in conjectures of a horrible nature, had never, indeed, come up to the reality of what I had just seen; a robber, a ghost, the arch-enemy of man and boy himself, any or all of these I had been, in a measure, prepared to find in rile red room, but a Coffin—an enormous Coffin—large 'for the shoulders. and taper ing somewhat delicately towards the feet; to find an article of that description under my bed was a shock unexpected indeed. (here it was, however, sure enough, with a double row of handsome gilt nails all the way round, handsome initials over the spot "NO ENTERTAINMENT IS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEA.,TRE SO LASTING." COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 27, ISSS. where the face would come, and a little in hcription, doubtless setting forth in a hand some manlier the virtues of the deced--ed party. The five hours which intervened be• twecn that discovery and daylight I passed in picturing to myself the features of the murdered—l had not a doubt of him or her having been murdered—and in estimating the chances of the return of the 'nor !Firer to the red room. No sick man ever longed for the morning as I longed, and with the tirbt f.tiut streaks of ihmn, I was standing, in my scanty drapery, by tho side of my cousin's pillow. "Richard, Richard," cried "there's murder in the house, and they've put the coffin under my bed in the red room." '•Pouh; pooh, you little foul," replied he; "go back again; I'm the Mayor this year, it's only Me big box which the mace is kept Notwithstanding this constitutional weak ness of mine, which has not much abated with years, the supernatural has still a wondrous charm for tae, and I snatch a fearful joy from the tales of ghosts and spectres. My happiest evenings—with the most miserable nights to follow—are spent. weekly, at a Society fur the Investigation of Spiritual Phenomena, or, as some of the unbelieving have disrespectfully termed it, the Cock-and-Bull Club. We assemble every Friday, at seven o'clock. If the po. lice were suddenly to break in op•o. our speculations, as we -it, thirteen in number, looking at one another, around a table with lighted candles, they would, I believe, pro ceed to collar and shake us, with a view of discovering who had swallowed the dice No written accounts of apparitions are ad mitted, no published records of any such may be tefered to, and it is es se th.it the narrators in some sort be personally tte quainted with the mt .e of wh.vh they speak; it is not indispensable that the indi vidual should have seen a ghost himself— although 'mire than one of our ,ociety b:ite been highly favored in that way— , o that the narratio obliqua, so popular with the historians of a dead lan,g,ni , e, is the get eral form amongst us, too, of our c,nunquica tions frutu without the world. I rarely speak much i(3 , tilf, lint listen— s may he iiiiagined —with the vora cious attention. The tine° meinhers of t an • .ociety who inter••-t no• In ist ale!1(y ttoo 1S ilkinson, and Arnold. The naturo of their• rektions is ciiniztionly as different a. their re-Teethe characters, and for that reason—rather than Lee:twit. or any peenlmi wonder belonging to them—l will repeat, in Ln ief, the three s t II •, 41 0.4 favored us Ile) wood, who is the son of a (lean, posses-es, ttith the exception of the C• 111.10. meats, all the popular attributes of that dignimry: he is stout, and rosy 1, 1 .0ut the gill-; takes several glasses or port during the little slipper which concludes oar spir itual investigations; and, by -ion, means .1r other, it always happens that Inn• obtain , osse,ion of the only armicliair in the room. There is a tentter-of-fam-ness, and a)p-crier of :111 Y care fir effect about what he has to say, which I love to listen to—ia bile it makes my blood run culd—on rtec,mut of its obvious truth. I. ••My fAther," said he last night, "was, as most of you are aware, before he was made a dean, the vicar of Tredlingtom The vicarage-house was a small one; and to ‘: it and to residences of the like humble kind I had been exclusively accustomed up to the: age of fourteen years. I knee• nothing ofl paneled oak chambers, secret staircases, passages in the thick r , of a wall, and all the machinery of romantic discomfort, ex cept through books. Tredlington it. re I had the dream which I am about to relate —was not in the least degree allied to lidolpho; and yet the dream I dream there was just such a one as dear old Mrs Radcliffe might have had herself after a pork supper. I dreamed that some half-an-hour before dinner, and immediately after the bell had rung for dressing, my cousin—a lad of the same age, who was then stopping with me—had mischievously lucked me up alone in the drawing-room, and there left me. Anxious not to displease my father by being late, and not daring to leap out of eith •r of the windows—which were on the first floor—l strove, in my dream, to find sonic other mode of egress.. There were several large pictures hanging: up on the walls—quite strange to me, but which, as is usual in such cases, produced no astonishment—and pushing these aside, one after another, I found behind the last on the east wall a flight of little stairs. which led, to my groat joy, up into my bed- GEM "I told this dream to the whole breakfast party the next morning, when this and that solution Isere given; but although the im pression still remained, doubtless. in my mind, no circumstance arose for several years to cause me to refer to it. I was a young man Of about one-and-twenty, and at college, when my father's elevation to the deanery of Donnington took place. This game cousin of mine was my fellow student, and accompanied me, at the vacation, on my first visit to the fine old cloistered place which I was proud to be able to call my future home. A little banter upon this pardonable vanity of mine assisted I , y the spirits of youth. brought on between u• what is popularly termed "a scritnntage;' and my father happening to be out just a: the particular time of our arrival, although it WSW nearly the dinner-hour, my oousha playfully pushed me by the shoulders int, the new drawing-room, and lucked the dote behind me. At that instant the dinner bed rang; in the nest I rocognihed completeb\ tho room of my dream, and walked to tin last great picture which hung on the oast ern wall, for a means of egress, as naturallj as I should have walked to the door. Be hind the pi;tore was a secret stair leading into a secret chamber which had been se' apart fur my reception, and I very much a - n ished the servant who brought up tr) trunks by appearing therein through a slid ing panel. As for the secret staircase, if any of this company will do mo the honor to come down to Donnington, they shall loch me into the drawing-room, even after the first dinner-bell has rung, as erten as ever they please." Arnold the youngest and Latest joined of the society, but notwithstanding—or per haps I should say, by reason of—that cir cumstances, he is the most enthusiastic of us all. He told us, after Heywood had finished, the following story in a quiet un dertone, such s.s the brook sings in "to the sleeping woods, all night, in the leaf:t. month of June," and with eves that Itoked through and through us while he spoke, as upon soma strange uncanny sight beyond. 11. "My father was left a widower in his first year of marriage, his wife having died in childbirth with us twins—myself and my brother George, whom some of you have mistaken at times, you know, fia• ate. My poor mother herself had been also nue of twins. For n few months after her death, her two sisters stayed in toy father's house to comfort him and look afßr 1/9 children. I was, however, soon put out to nurse, and George only remained at home. lie slept in tiles:nue room with his two aunts. I had been front home about a week or so, when Aunt Ginn, on awaking about midnight, fined her sister out of bed, and walking about the room. She knew Maria suffered from 'a raging tooth,' so merely informed her where tho laudanum was, and went to sleep again. Next night, as the two sisters were undressing, Sll,llll said: 'Be sure to put die bottle so dint that you still know where to find it, and riot run the risk of your death of cold, ni you did la.it '"I had ant the tootll,l,tho and never left toy bed et all,' telt::1 :llttritt. " "filen you t have thole it in your Tern, for I you th• pl.til ly ns I ever 4,1 w you in illy life.' So, with mutual C.- erimination and denial, tlisy retired to rest. "Again Silvan was awakened, and ngitili she vii‘v her sister pa iii lib ut the roam •' 11.rri 1, come to Ssi t•he; •the fire iv out, and the culd will only increase the = "Her sister turned a pale f.tea towards her, with an inilescr;bably sorrowful and touching expre-sion, bat said nothing.' Susan, thinking, he • t' te seriously ill. %%as about to leave the lied, hen. to her extreme astoni-hment, the perceived 11laria fast asleep beside tier. "It was my dead mother, then—the very image n sister—who she had lisibed Upon those two nights. SLI , IIII fainted with eTcess of fear, and did not waken her bedfellow till after dawn, when nothing unumal was to be observed. She told, however, all she had seen; and Marin, who Wag much the bolder of the two, prom ised to keep vigil next night, upon condi tion that my father was not to be inlbrmed of the matter, which she knew won I dis tress him greatly. She attributed the thing herself to fancy and a disordered system. That night, then, they both watched; and when they had been in bed some time, they heard the front door of the cottage open— my mother had been accustomed in her lifetime to carry, for convenience, a latch key—and a well-known gentle footstep pass up the stairs end go into my father's room. Presently their own chamber door opened, and, dressed in a white garment betwixt bed gown and dressing gown, their dead sister glided in. She gave them an appealing. almost reproachfol look, and then turned to the little cradle where her baby-boy was sleeping, and stooped down as if to kiss it. Once again she seemed to beseech them dumbly, and left the roem with a slow, noiseless trend. It was some minutes be fore they dared to speak. Maria longed to address the spirit, but her tongue close to the roof of her mouth. In the morning they asked my father whether ho had seen any strange sight or no. •• saw nothing unusual,' he replied; but when they told him all. he confessed, not without some effbrt: 'And I, too, for these last ten days have seen her every midnight.. I hear the key in the front-door; her tread upon the landing as of old; but her face, vs she stands by my bed•foot, seems worn and piteous, and I know .die has some grief she may not tell. I have spoken to her many times, but she does nut answer me. I know not what to do.' After Poino more conversation, n sadden thought flAshed upon my father's mind: and, saddling his horse himself, ho rude of at full speed to the town about ten miles old, where I had been been intrusted to a respectable nurse. In that ',bort interval which I bad passed away from home, h i found me shockingly altered; half-starved. Ind ill, and bruised. Another nurse instantly obtained, who, Imwever„ rebind tied it my own home with sae. Never tIVITC was Seen by mortal eye that messenger from the dead; the boundless love hin b had burst the barer of death itself—the affection of t mother for her child—was never tried so erribly again." It is our custom to (nate upon. and an dyse every statement; those only which ;an stand a good deal of sifting are thought worthy to be enrolled in the tecor.ls of II e society, and unless to concern ourselves in such investigations at all is a proof of gill we cannot certainly Us said to he .asily satisfied. Wilkinson cross-examined Arnold un this story of his with his usual rough acuteness, but without ut all shak ing his evidence; it was impossible for any one who had heard the story to suppose that the narrator himself was otherwise than in earnest. There is a certain mystery an! stipornatore about Wilkinson himself in our eyes, from the fact of his being a lrysalter—the attribute of such a charac ter being utterly unknown to and unmange able by us—but othciaii-e he is very far lion being an appropi bite vehicle for a spiritual narration; it is marred the more by the circumstance of his always having n cigar between hi+ cob, the end of which always' \rabbles against his tongue, and clips his English. The somewhat t anatmer of his relating the following occur rence will, it is likely detract from the vrailembluncc; bet that it really did Imp pen as described, I out well assured. "I have an elder sister who is mar ried to a country gentleman in Sossex.— She has been his wife thi.,3 twenty year,. and has an abundance of einidi-eri. The first governess of these child' en was a Mis- Beauvais, of Dunkirk. She era- of a reservril and taciturn disposition, and alihough pc:- forming all her duties admirably, was rather respected by her pupil, than beloved, She never looked quite like other people, and had an old fashioned manner of dres-imr. In particular, she wore her :krises %cry large at the shoulders—pillowed sleeves, as I think they were then called. I hare seen her many times. and remember her perfectly well: but one sight of her would hose been sufficient for recollection. She was a very remarkable, a most extraordinary looking person —s ery, indeed. (And here tine dry -alter took sin El profu-ely, as his custoin is when more than usually pleonastic.) She had on ancient father v. ho canoe every Christ mas to take her home to Dunkirk for her few weeks' holiday—a wonderful French man, quite silent and all puckered about the lips like an umbrella. In my nieces' old drawing books n• are several pretty so ber nail 21CL/rate likenesses of him, which ill resemble earleatm es. Perhaps when they get away from the English folks, and the pert and fills were alone together, they shed some natural tears; but their behavior, as it seemed to me, was far from being af fectionate. 1 happened to be 1 , . S , ItOCX WliCat Jlunsieur Beauvais last came for his (laughter. It was in especially bitter winter twenty years ago, and that writs it e,,ldeSt. day. The earth was scrapped round in its white shroud very thickly, but no snow was foiling. Ile had brought a. little open cat rioge with hint from the neighbor in r town, because it ran lighter user the choked roads than a close one would have done. There was, thercfl(re, but little:own fur Miss Beaus ai,'s luggage. "She had been a:twist:moil on these jour neys to tithe all her possessions away with her, and she was evidently much distressed on this occasion nit having to leave s into of thein behind. Two large black boxes of hers were left; locked and well corded.— 'You will be store to keep them safely mad ame,' she said to my -1- or; but she seemed to say it with a sigh of suspicion. "We watched the two stiir figures drive slowly along the kalless avenue and over the white hilbtop beyond. 'A strange pair,' we remarked, and soon forgot them both, as governesses raid governesses' flai i e r s are apt to be forgotten. Ott the two black boxes was written, in that infinitesimally small hand-writing of her's, that it was drientla to open them under any pretext. It was evident that the poor lady mistrusted the honesty of perfidious Albion. "Wo read goon afterwards, in the news paper—as soon that is as the newspaper of That time and in such snowy days, could reach us—that the Dunkirk sailing paoket, in which we knew they had intended to take passage, was lost with every soul on board. Nevertheless, in hone that some thing might have deranged their plans, we made every effirt to ascertain tilt ir fate.— Repeated letters to the continent ob'ained no answer. and indeed Miss Beauvais had often affirmed that she had no friend upon earth except her father. mwcover, the alert: in the packet.oflice described the two singular persons, I.; ho had raid fa- berths in tho doomed ship, with an accuracy tint left no room for doubt. Years rolled away --ten, fifteen, twenty years (the diy.alter here took. at least half an cuuco more shaft . than he could conveniently carry), and their deaths became a certainty. Tho few small bills which Miss Beauvais left behind her, hail long been settled by my si s ter; but -hero was one somewhat larger one which still continued undischarged—a. milliner's. Cite governess' pupils grew up and had 4overness's fur their own children; the ser vants of the house had departed or died: lucre was no one about the place he+ides •ny sister and her husband who remembered , •'or Mi•s 'Beauvais, or knew whose those deck hose+ were thlt were one 117 , 11 he other, put away in the old lumber closet ip Ptairs." ••flay I be allowel" ohnerceal the dry salter ut this point, "to deviate front the 81,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE. s triety's rules F o far as to read a portion my sister's letter relating to this matter and roceited but yosterdly moraine?" Leave hating I , een granted lty 'sirens acclamation, he read as follon,: "Wc drove to Lnglib,rmigh I: =t to Iliaa Davies' the milliner, ami making my purchases, she ob.erred •By the by, madam, can there sti'l no• hope of poor Miss Beauvais being :dive, 0 or tno=t I consider those few pounds siii ewes me to be a Lad debt?' "I was distressed at having put off On matter so long, and paid her at once, tlseiv mg that I would have the btu:es npaWN which have been left with us these twcut: years, to see whether their contends wen worth anything. On our wzy, I con niunicated this intent:on to rtedorid, appro‘ed:of it. There was no ccrl ant in tit. pony catriage to olerhear us; .:n1 cc:- to.in that neither cf us mentit - ucd the nt-ut , sult , et i uently. We sat do , ' n to ddanco within a half an hour arter In the middle of it, and dorill,ic .1 cortver , t lion about the new gre..todwlse, Ltz,•y—ti maid who eame to me laQt autumn, if :vau. remeuther—rushed into the dinio! - ;-rootto quite v.hlte, and trendinn; She could not Speak at 11 for terror; i n : I sent rrederid and tile man-servant out tdl tha room, and contr . .% ed to OOf " have seen such a stran:te trn,' she hi,perea; she lice ::010, soli-. I warmer I hnd str& - ',.;tl/ t. 4et away front thc,. Wliat is slit: liLL,?' I t,k,:l as cluivtl as I e,)(11,1. ' 'Like nobody I eterse.v: in my li n, . ma ' ain—with hard grey eyes the atitl in the strangest (Ire s-; very :arr ., : pulled oat abave the sleet She the t,hl bhiek boxes that are up in the corner, N% la/ the foreign dire:;ti•.m' upon tilem.' "I tried to quiet the ;rl, who Logan t' soh afre-h, and to convince her that it rip all fancy; and f iederiek .p.hc to her ai-o. She was not, however, to he shaken in the least, and I firmly believe she has seen Mi-- Lleauvais. Trederie has proini , ed me, upon hi , honor, that so lung as I live those boxes shall never Lo opened." 'Tut I have not promised," :111 , 1e1 the dry , altee in coneln , ion, I ein down to-rnorl - ew in F.. 7 11-Is.c% to sae ‘.l he done." ror my part I sheull 11Ite e'ctremely ti, see what is in those h Be., but net enle , c the n:a I,y da31;::,! t, aud at smnebotly Something on my I.S.:nd Dark masses of my threatcoirg f flow creatures, el , taketl and cowl Ltd; ellocti a• eqnipped with noiseless golo , d,es and daggers diminishing to a point, wherefitan drips a gout of gore; nn executioner, '0 itlru half mask and a chopper, w ith its edge turned towards me; %ague ntol unhnown shapes following, with a deadly unsweas utg purpose. whithersoeaer I take my ft i;;locii ed way; a thoustutd staaogers with uplifattl j tight hand o, exclaiming together, al tisti cally, and in the pause of slow music: "We swear, see swear," and doing it; dozen intimate friends striking, at my breast with a curious and varied collection of v-ea ports, from nn overwhelming sense it duty. and averting their looks for pity's sake; secret cc Javes„,settio g down my name in Mood, with a variety of other dismal pic tures selected from the haunted chaml ers of imagination, had been presented to the in dreams for ninths. I was rendered miserable through having been tanlo n free mason, with the terror of varying aboot with trio so tremendous a secret. I felt that I was fated to be the Inthappy wretch mho should betray that which had been held saered by multitudes for more than a thou sand years. Not was this idea tgethor without grounds; for to en great a pitch of nervousness had I orris ed that I was eon tinually whispering the matter confiden tially to myself, and then, in the belict that 1 had spoken alud, looking horror sttieken around me; or, not seldom, I would write it down upon slips of paper; which I after wards took care to tear up sztuill, or put them into the fire, or devoutc.i them. Once, however, when engaged in this practice, a high wind, coming io at t::e open window, scattered these int creftil , g disclosures in every (lit ertion, and drove me as nearly mad as a sane man could go. There was as many as twenty distinct rena lations of the most mysterious fact in the world's history thus set `lying over space, an that any ono might run and read them. Nineteen of the-c 1 recovered by means cd almost superhuman exertions. To a were reclaimed at the peril of life and limb from n neighbor's wail with ch,ra ., x at the top of it; three of them had 1,-(1-ed in a very lofty tapering tree, whkh prarti•aily j demonstrated the dreaded fact of env qy!.i!-; line leaves becoming poplar; e were ear tied into tho river, and had to It: , re-emtd by a heat; seven had c'n whir:ol Mt r rite kennel of a proverbially savago which. hoverer, seas so impressed hy toy cages haste and furious vehemence, that he vac: :fed his quarters at the first sunumtrs, au fled, how ling, to the utmost extent of his chain. Otto was brought dowo ft- tin a ohim acv pit by a very small '.weep. who, Ito at for too a n d Cur himself, prof cd to t.ty bLI:— Lc:ion that Le had newer been taught to read; ono 1 found 1::e kitten a: l lee with in the garden, w Lich PreseuliY put to death accordingly, without opt, [WHOLE NUMBER., 1,47 s aft.-: the manner of the tribunal of i`Te>tphalia; tric could 2wzcliere, Le Tnere emne a here, patent u the tir,t pater-hy, 8:1 et;pl:cit btAution of !i0 V.Tr .tny on ,icunar an , i 1;e:: T:Lin ‘v1..,11 :L znaks, he Illy,: stol: , e::::ite,l we to fre:::..y. went :11.0.ut dt.ni.w.nri g - of rny 11,e.: 11.v1 seca piece raper in the \Vita: pa:icr? Wi:of on it?" Inquircd \flint was on :t queit:un not o . 1).3 an:-we:elNeyy readily. I did not n'o vnnd ';urty and I 1J._::1,1 . ,e.ltly ,:en heti 1,1-.\ cc:: And c I alco.ained :-.etr:,•t any I lEEE 1 MC` On my Mln.!, never- 11,1 %,1 . 7 di LurdLn it was { u: rlr p:n,;, L_.t.• n:lr ejsej,u g, v i).C:1!: In~~ t the COI, V.1....tt I kIICW, and MEM ,1;; , :it . ti;r:tn./ (~•r h.) .....nLt.~la.ti •~1 ~c k7:l ,er ' =El= ESE i :!.r tl.,!,"ty than in t ME MEI .\-',:t!,cr 1 oti olz u•yEclf ..'L-:o. I.v:dor in e 1;1..1. t ;Le l ,l-; lit- 1 .id cimie up .v:th w i:1 tlict c,:n- t.itt L,F \\ ::ich I enzi id =ME , t 1 ! ,u4l: 1 v.vol n cue I tc r.:.ture, the oa, • t y et rh.ch In I'o,l I v - a- t., : he chat!' or:ng ci:,ac t4y:h. One, .1 re- 11.1V-V • C tl l! 4,1 ;1. N‘l., f• 11,e (.;,!,./ 1!:10 p ,inted I: t! W .0 . a ill. W 1/1.101.! .1, C.ll', r . 1.1.41e..1 2/10 1 tit.) rkAticr t 0a 1) , Itty ():.: , 1 , 1 I,:m , elf. 319 .1 1,c..1.:J• at locgt4 su I v. n, vi,;;gc I t,.) tal.c a ftiewl t‘i ~, 1:.1 t, ,•f c,,urse, c t," I,ct I t.ll Mtn of 1 .1 AV:I9 Loniinually corit•utn- tht. •lII:Cl•iV ii . :^ nm ri., - , 11,111:;-, it ortr , rl.r.sing listened patiently ills sad recital—he vas u. sery %% Invao iag 2, uan , ,; man, only rather He—"l have a pl.in whieb, 1 think, \VIII L , llofit. pet: 3inir thr wh.ilo thing is noti.c , o—l nra ready to e,iirne a treele.;:en znysein f 7 2.-a, you see, v.lll Lave a t,nfi,lant--al,cin-r. in whcin v.-)u :nay v•orr tr 11'e will re- t 1:o11,7 yr s'. cticry day , , ~, the. or up thy Bru=c. tI r)rd, th. , y I)usl:,ess—nad. I'p-iv. v.(' 11 c.! :11, nt a.i, f.e.,:ret, if rt • nt:l r , 2!icre T"l.lr l'Illia." Sr.:.. att.: , a tel 1 ale and re.:;,:1 , :•.. ni lent- - ; wit!. the tls iu c::r ledgrt fur s r!., ut (f J n.y f,r getting it. do:10, 11.11:1 I.l.•Wri to my 11. , uPe from. the Treoe,:ing I:is in 5:704:z7,11. I !I'll bccn I—cl,il J.,nes moro t!lan ny c f '.cndin4 Limn littl.o Innnecu!:enlie and I was tilorerore as we wero vitt; t aflcr cr cur wine, he ieque,,e.l of me :he tQmporary lean of .7:1 ttS fl:CrO 1 . 7114 amount it'irea , ly between I nr , red mi an amend ment that the Kim Fhimil ba cleerex-c..1 by an , half, to which. after a slight discussion, my frienii acee , ied, turd retitel to rest ap arently sath•fiel with a fire pound note of mine in his Inn-Fo. We hi !)ca:ei morn, for tho in a d•wl,:c- eanveniel. , :e of co:Tel,ing urc.n ray al! en ter,:c, and lva n