- . - - •''' , -* . " l 42s l NgP"'";"' ' ' • • Ztg: 004 ,-1 • • • r r-t WRIGHT; Editor and Proprietor. VOLUME XXXII, NUMBER 4.3 PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING. Office in Carpet Hull, North-west corner of ,Front and Locust streets. Terms of Subscription mgluie.r.opyperannurra 4. i ,i fpaidin advance, f 1101 paid within three . month sfrom commencement ofthe year, 200 9. Coats a cscsico - yr. 1 . N13.1 übseription eeetved tor a lees time than six Am:oaths; and no paper will be di<montinued until all -..arrearege sa re patd,ualesfat the aptionof the pub u:rATorieytnaybvemittedbymail nnyepubiisls <cc s risk. Bates of Advertising. guar r[o, ines]one week, a 4 three weeks, *0 38 75 eachtubsequentinsertlon, 10 (LOines]oneweek. 50 three weekl. t 00 . et enchtub.tequentiniertion. 25 •LargertdvertisetnentHn proportion Al iberal liseoun 1 willbe !nude to gun rterly,llolo early . ° r:eArly t.lvertisere,veho are strietlyconfined othetr hueines.. DR. LIOFFER, DENTIST. --OFFICE, Front Street 4th door born Locust. over Saylor J.r. McDonald's Bonk store I COIUMbIII. Pa. 117 - Entrance, some u. Jolley's l'ho ogroph Go Ilery. [August 21, Ins. TFIOIVIAS WELSH . , JUSTICE OF TILE PEACE, Columbia, Pa. OFFICE. in Wlapper's New Building, below Black's Hotel, Front street. 117• Prompt attention given to all business entrusted o his mire. November 29, lOS7. H. M. NORTH, A TTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW LI. Columbia .I'n. Collections F romptly made ,i n Lnnewnerand Yorl, joun lien. Columbia May 4,1950. J. w. FISHER, Attorney and Counsellor at Law, Columbia, eeptemUer a , 18564 f S. Atlee B ckius, D. D. S. I)ItACTICES the Operative, Surgical and Meehan teal Departments orDenttstry: OVPICE Lortmstreet; between be Franklin notice mild Post Mice., Columbia, Pa :flay 7. 1859, Harrison's Coumbian Ink i, a superior article, permanently black. TV and not corroding the pen, can be bud in nu) uantity. at lift Venally :Medicine Store, and blacker /et is that English Boot Polish. Columbia. Jane 9.1959 We Have Just Received R. CUTTER'S Improved Chest Expanding Suspender and Shoulder Brace, for Gentlemen, and Patent Skirt Supporter and Brace for Lathe., jll,l the article thnt is wanted at this time. Come and see them at Family Medicine Store. Odd Fellows' Hall. [April 9.1550 Prof. Gardner's Soap. TsrE have the New England Soap for those who die TV not obtain it from the Soup Matt; it is plc.asunt to the skin. mid will take grease snow from Woolen Good., it is therefore no humbug. for you get the worth of your money at the Family Medicine Store Columbia, Juno It, 1858. CllO.lllll, or, Bond's Boston Crackers, for and arrow Hoot Crackers, valids and child/en—new articles in Columbia, ai the Family Medicine Store, April IG, 18.10. SPALDING'S PREPARED GLUE—The want of ...I, un airline is felt in every family. and now it can he supplied; for mending furniture, china. ware.ornamental work, toys. Ike., nothing there is nhing •superior. We have found it u.stful in repairing many articles which have been useless for months. You JIIII4MII it sit the ta.ounAz EMILY MEDICINE STORE. IRON AND STEEL! sluTiose,:!,, :mril .,,,,h lt v n e nd re srejq ve u i l tt New and Large • • BAR IRON AND STEEL! They are con.ttantly supplied with stock is this branch of his busbies, and con ruttish it to customers in large or small quantities, ut the lowest rates J. RUM VLF:: k. SON. Locust street below Second, Columbia, Pa. April 2d, 186 U. pITTRIL'S Compound Syrup of Tar and LD Wild Cherry, for Coach., Cold, tlre. F, r 4ale he Golden Mortar Drug Store, Front at. [ July 2 A YES'S Compound Concentrated Extract Suranparilla for the cure of Scrofula r+ Kiug'n Evil. and all gcrofuloux affections, a freah art,le just received and for ovule by R. WILLIAM:7., Front at Columbia, Sept. 24,1859, FOR SALE. 2 n n GROS4 Frietton Matches, very low for cash. LIU Joae 35.°59. R. WILLIAM, Dutch Herring! .IkNY one fond of a good Herring enn b' supplied at F. ERERI.IIIN'S G rocery St ore, No. Locust et. N0v.19, 1859. L YON'S FURS 01110 CALIWBI BRANDY and PURE WINES. especially for Medicines nd Sacramental purposes, at the Jan.:S. FAMILY lIIEDICINE STORE. NICE RAISINS for 8 ets . per pound, are to be had only at ESERLE:IN'S t7r6cry Store, No. 7I Locust street. March 10, 1500 G,IIIDEN SEEK—Fresh Garden Seeds, war ranted pure, or all klittlx,jtaat received at I;I3ERLEIN'S Grocery Stoe, March 10,1960. N 0.71 Losu-t wreer POCKET BOOKS AND PURSES. ALARGE lot of Moe and Common Pocket Books mid Purses, ut from 15 cents to two dollars each lit ulquurters and News Depot. Columbia, April 14.1 Va. A EMIT more of those beautiful Prints left, which will be cold cheap, in SAYLOR Cc PiIt:DONALD'S Pa. Aprll 14 Just Received and For Sale. 1500 SACKS Ground Alum Salt, in large or small qualititie.,ut APPOLD'S • 'Mirth° u•e. Claim an•in. Mays,VO. POLO CREAM OF CLICERINE.--For the core and prevention fa chapped 111111 d., are. For sale at the (; OLDEN MORTAR DRUG STORE, Dee. 3,1830. Front street. Columbia. Turkish Prunes! R a first rate tannic of Prunes you must go to F. FAIERLIUNtS Nett. 19, 19:A. Grocery Store, No 71 Locust st GOLD PENS, GOLD PENS. .JUST received a large and fine rmvortment of Gold + d Penn. of Newton end Griswold'it manufacture, at SA VLOR 11IcDONA LB'S Book Store. Agra 14: Front Pucci. above ',omit. FRESH GROCERIES. E continue to aep the best "Levy" Syrup, Mahe r P and Brown Sugar ,good Coffees and choice Tear. to be had In Columbia nt the New Corner ht tors. op %melte Od 1 Fellows' Nall, and.at the old stand adjoin ling the 'alc. 11. C. FONDBMS:111'1.11. Soma, Tobacco, &c. A LOT of firaratu SelarS,Tobseco and Snuff will be found at the soire of the Stpieribee. lie keeps only a firskrateartiele. Gall it. ' S. F. EBERLEIN'S Grocery Store. Oetly6 • Locust st., Columbia, Ps. CRANBERRIES, AT E%V Crop Mattes, New Citron, at J.l Oct. 20. IMP. A. M. RAMBO'S, SARDINES, • Woreestembire SOut4, Relined Cocoa he.. jest re curved Oct.... spd ton sale by • S. P. EISA LEIN. No. 71 Loroat CRANURRIE* IIIST reeenred • fresh 1 Cranberries and Now Corratio.ot No. 71 aim. Street. • Oct 21, EBERLON • gstutinito. rrom Blackwood's Magswinc Mrs. Beanchamp's Vengeance. 013 [CONTINUED.] CHAPTER II TIIE SORROWS OF WERTIIER Mrs. Beauchamp went up stairs to see Arabella Rackit, who was quarreling with Briggs about Mario, whom that orna ment of the Corn Exchange thought a namby-pamby kind of fellow. He was delighted at the entrance of his Emily; nor was Arabella less so, for she felt certain of having an ally on this question. But the widow did not enter very warmly in to the dispute; and, indeed, seemed to be somewhat preoccupied. If she had imagined that Rackit wou.d have rushed after her, and gently forced her back into the etcher, she was mistaken. If she now imagined that he would speedily present himself, she was mistaken. Mario and Grisi, Tamber lik and Verdi, Adam, Bede and The Idylls of the King, Epsom and the shape of bonnets, and twenty other subjects were discussed with more or less fervour, but no Rackit ap peared. At last the widow rose to take leave, Briggs expressed his intention of having a look at the likeness. She loudly protested there was no time to-day; but he as firmly declared there was time, and plenty; and he must "take a squint at it." A sudden thought seemed to strike her, and she con sented graciously to gn down in the atelier. In fact, she rather wished to see how the ar tist looked. They tapped at the door, but receiving no answer opened it and went in. Rackit was standiug contemplating the portrait, with both hands thrust amid his long dishevelled locks. Iris face flushed and his eyes spar kled as he saw her; and she also looked con fused. "You don't seem to have made much pro- gress," said Briggs. "You don't understand portrait painting, my dear fellow." "Probably not. I prefer photography." "Goth!" "Goth, if you like, but I do. It's done in an instant, and so cheap." "Very cheap," said Rackit, grimly. "But there is no talent required," sug gested the widow, anxious to propitiate the artist. "So much:the better," retorted Briggs.— "What's the use of talent?" "Thu cannot be expected to know that," said Rackit, with a sarcastic smile. "Oh. yes, I can though. I'll tell you what it is. Talent is the ape of Nature.— It does imperfectly what Nature does per fectly." "It's something more than that." "Yes, I know—it's a pretext for charging high." At which sally the ornament of the Corn Exchange laughed unctuously. But the others were unresponsive. lie was a little nettled, and turning to the easel, said— " Now look nt this portrait. Devilish clever, dare say." "You are very good," said Rackit, bow ing sarcastically. "It must be clever, because it costs so much. Very like Titian, and all that—but shall I be quite frank with you?" "By all means." "Then I must say that it isn't a bit like Emily.. It is idealized as you call it " "You are complimentary," said Mrs. Beauchamp, with some acidity. "It isn't a question of compliment, but of fact. Now, when a portrait isn't like, what does it matter how well it may bo painted?" "You understand nothing of Art." "No, but I do of likenesses; and this isn't a likeness." "How can you say so?" "Because I have eyes and see." "Will you be kind enough to point out any defects," said Rackit, interposing. "Well, the mouth is too delicate." "Too delicate!" "Yes, and the nose is much too small." "You know nothing of pictures," said the widow, impatiently. "I know a nose when I see it. Then, too he has given you a complexion of roses and lillies, when every body knows you are as brown as a berry." "Perhaps," said the piqued widow, "other eyes may see differently." "Then they dont see you as you are." "You are a great judge, I perceive." "I know a brown skin when I see one." "Of course. On the Corn Exchange you learn everything." "Now you're unreasonable, and out of temper, and all because I was frank and open. I'm sure Rackit has far too much sense to take what I have said in ill part." - - "That," retorted Mrs. Beuclamp, "is very plainly saying that Thave no sense." "The subject is getting hot—let's drop it. Oar appointment with I3roadwood was at two o'ciockz:—it only wants ten minutes now." "When shall I have another sitting?" asked Rackit, in a soft tone, to hfre. Beau champ. 'To-niorroir " she' replied. "And then we can continue . . . from the point at whichlon left o1£" • /A .it4it.." said the unconscious Briggs as ho walked out, leaving the artist to escort the widow-to the door. "Na ENTERTAINMENT IS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR-ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING." COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY 11ORNING, AUGUST 24, 1801 In escorting her he pressed her hand ten derly. Was it fancy, or was it fact, that the gentlest of pressures was returned by her? Fancy, or fact, Rackit was thrilled by it; and when a few minutes attewards I hap pened to look in, I found him in a state of great excitement. It require.l very little to make him oxen his heart to me; I haw he was longing to take me into confidence, and to confess the truth, I was not at all unwil ling to be his confessor. "It's clear she loves me,!" lie c.,ncludA "It certainly looks like it." "My dear fellow, whether she pres.,ed my hand or not, the mere fact that she heard illy declaration without anger, and is to give me more sittings, is equivalent to a declaration. Was ever a man 80 happy? Look at her— the portrait doesn't do her justice. Such eyes; sparkling with wit and melting with tenderness. Such lips: pouting with ca price and smiling with gaiety. MI this creature is. "How you run on!" said I, tryiugto calm ' "Run on, you stone, you log, you unim passioned what-you-may-call id Wouldn't you run on if such a glimpse of paradise were offered to you?" "But you seem to forget that the gates are guarded. Touching Briggs now—?" "Briggs be— Yes, you're right. There's Briggs. She can't be mine, she's pledged to him. Hideous nightmare!" "It seems to me that you ere in not the pleasantest situation. To be the lover of a woman engaged to another fool— no, I don't mean that—but it's Ilse Sorrows of Maher over again, and a very absurd story that was." "I shan't end it as Werther did, by blow ing my brains out. That process is too ri diculous; and the result so dirty!" "But how will you end it then?" "I shan't end it at all." "Eh?" "I shall enjoy the romance of love, with out mitigating it by the prose of marriage. I have lunged for some romance in life.— llers it is." "Can't see it." "I can. Look here; to love the affianced of another, is to feel your heart stirred with out danger. She never can be yours—there's the poignant misery, which ))ecomes a charm. Life is radiated with a passionate romance —you have your passion, your sorrow—and no increase to the weekly bills! With such a passion (and with such security), I shall become a great artist. Twill paint the sad ness of the world!" Ile dashed back his long hair as he said this, and seemed to call upon the universe for its applause. "The great dread I have always felt," he I resumed, "is lest I should fall in love with some marriageable woman, marry her, and feel the romance dwindle day by day to prose. Now this fear is removed. Like another Werther I sought everywhere for a Charlotte." "She's found, please sir," said Bub, his color-grinder and factotum, who entered at this moment. "Who's found?" "The Charlotte you wanted." "Haven't you been bothering about a vir gin for your Virgins of the Stint Well, I've found the very model you require, and her name happens to be Charlotte. A real beauty and no mistake. Such a simple chit! None of your academy models; no, no. Ny choice, sir. Eyes as long as snuff-boxes; a nose like a hawk's beak; and a mouth—oh! such a month! Besides, she has an air of modesty that 'ud take anybody in." "Then you know this paragon, Bob?" said I. "Intimately--I have Rtnod tea and shrimps," replied that knowing young scamp. "Bob is a devil among the women," ob served his master. "If you won'tconsider me taking a liberty sir, I should like to have your advice on a point." "What is it?" "Well, sir, it happens to be just something about marriage; what may be your honest opinion about it, sir?" "Um! . . Why . . . You see it all depends . . . Thero are times— Are you thinking of marriage?" 'Well, sir," replied Bob, "as you any, that depends . . . There are times when it don't seem a ball spec." . "Then marry." "And yet, sir, only think! to Ss one's self in a fis forever; forever's a long time, you know. Charlotte's very well, but suppose it shouldn't turn out well?" "Bob is right," said Rackit, turning to me as Bob quitted the room. "Forever is a deuced awkward word, you know. That's why I prefer my position with Mrs. Bean champ—there's no 'forever' in it." CLIAPTE a In. TEE GRATES WITHIN REACIT A troubled yet delicious night did the painter pass, revolving all the felicities and romance of his position. He was so fall of hope, that when the bootmaker called after breakfast for his "little aocount," Rackit hoped he should .be able to settle it on Sat urday—and not only said this, bat somehow believed it; and his conviction communi cated itself to the creditor, in spite of that man's long acquaintance with the promises of his debtor. - Faith moves mountains, and sometimes even creditors. I have often marvelled at the facility with which men, notoriously without means, contrive ti get trusted by men whom they have constantly loft unpaid, while others really possessing some outlying means, and known to have paid them way honorably fur years, cannot get the smallest extension of time. The man who never pays is more certain to be trusted man the man who pays irregularly. I suppose there is a sublime confidence in the former which imp uses on his creditors; whereas in the latter there is a secret mis t:l%lll;4,a painful sense that the hope may n .t be realized, an uncumf rtablo feeling at being asked ror money which ho hasn't got; and this perplexed, confused sneaking state of mind, communicates itself to the creditor. The buutmaker departed, and the widow arrived. Groat was the joy of Rackit to see her arrive alone. Ile helped her to take off her shawl, and observed with pleasure that she was agitated, and did not reply to his little questions and remarks. Iler agita tion grew greater, and communicated itself to him. A certain "all-overishness," which was at once pleasant and painful, made him fidget aimlessly about the atelier, pretend ing to be arranging the easel and the seat fur her, but really disturbing one moment the arrangement of the last. At last Mrs. Beauchamp broke silence "I have had a very unpleasant time since yesterday." "Indeed?" inquired thesympathetic paint- "Very. On quitting you, Mr. Briggs and I came to a serious misunderstanding—" "I hope not." "Nay, why should I mince phrases?—it was a serious quarrel." "Dear me! And what about?" "I was annoyed—l may say irritated—at the criticisms he permitted himself to pass on the work of a man of genius." "Pray do not mind them. I care little for what he say, so that you are not dissatisfied," "But I could not help feeling for you." "It was very kind." "And then his replies to me had a tone-- oh? a tone that no man who respects n wo man would permit himself, especially to the woman of his choice. ram not particularly sensitive, but indeed he was rude—rude, almost insulting." "Triple brute!" "I knew you would feel as I do." "That man must be a brute who would insult a defenceless woman, who ilft9 no weapon but her tears, no armor but hys terics." "Especially when she must submit to his ill usage—must hear the coarsest accent and rudest language, because she is to be his wife." "I have no patience with the fellow•." "Oh! had I known the man to whom I was about to link myself—and yet I ought to have known what tyrants you can be. I was a widow." "Then the lamented Beauchamp was ---T, "A brute! Most men are." "Nay, that I will never allow." "I thought Mr. Briggs, whom I had known from childhood, was different. But a woman never knows the real character of a man till she's married. He couldn't have loved me." Here the widow was on the point of weep ing, and this roused all the chivalry of Rackit's nature, as he confidentially inform ed me. "Ile neverleved me," repeated the widow. "Never!" energetically exclaimed the painter. "Eh?" "I repeat it: Never! I should not have ventured on the indelicacy of such a remark u,der other circumstances; but from the first that has been my conclusion. He is an egotist. I know him. I saw at onco that, hnwever be might admire you (as who does not?), he could not understand, he was in capable of appreciating you." She held on' her hand to him with a frank cordiality and an impulsiveness which was irrosistable. "You understand me." she said. "And to understand is to adore you," he replied, kissing the band be held in his. "Don't plague me at such a moment with idle gallantry. Do be serious—pray do." "Serious? I never was more so." "Pray don't." "Hear me calmly. I swear it is genuine passion which now speaks in tone, look, and gesture." "No, no, no. Don't say it." "But I have said it." "You cannot love me." "But I do." "You most not." "I must and will. From the very first moment of our meeting--" "You fancy so." "Fancy!" "You have an artist's imagination." "And the heart of a man." "Hush! I cannot listen to such words." "You bid mo be silent, and I obey. I will not tell you how in secret I hare hung upon looks, and treasured up your slightest words. I will cot allude to the blissful vis ions I have bad of a blissful existence pass ed forever at your side. I will be silent.— I know the barrier which circumstances have cruelly erected between us. But I must be allowed to dream of the paradise from which I am shut out." "Fortunately for you." "Don't say so. Had fate willed it other wise, and had you been free—." "Then you would in all probability have never giveci me a thought." "This is unjust." "It is the simple truth, and you know it." "You have no belief in me. "Men are so deceitful." "Nut all." "All." "You are resolved against me. But oh! would that I could prove the truth—if you were but free." "But I am not." "I know it. But if you were—" "What would you do then?" "Throw myself at your feet." And he suited the action to the word, adding, as she rose hastily, "I would say, here is my heart —accept it; here is my life, share it." Itackit had been hurried on to this pas sionate climax, in his eager desire to Make on impression; but it was like a dash of cold water in his heated face when the widow suddenly held out her hand to hint, and with a tone of trembling tenderness said— "And dare I trust you? If it is my en gagement which alone forms the barrier, be happy lam free." He was speechless fur a few seconds, and then stammered— " What? That is—you?—l'm bewildered." "As you spoke, the sincerity of your con viction stirred my heart. I felt you were in earnest, You are so, aro you not?" Quite!" he answered, though with Oa- ted fervour. "I felt that you were worthy of all confi dence, and the resolution was formed which at once sets me at liberty." How it was that hackie felt anything but enraptured by this announcement, I do not know; but this I know, that ho felt very much as we feel on awakening front a dream which we know to have been a dream, and yet cannot quite help believing as a reality. ['ere was a woman whom ho greatly ad mired—whom he had been loving, as he vowed, for several days, with an insurg-mt rage against the saperior luck of Briggs, who could call her his own; and yet no sooner did ho learn that Briggs was no lon ger in that enviable position—no longer bar ring him from the chance of being her bus band—than he began to feel utterly miser- able. Perhaps it was his general dislike to marriage; and he was not merely talking at random when he vowed that true happiness consisted in loving a woman whom you couldn't call your own. On her asking him if he was happy, he ve hemently protected that his felicity was su preme; but she would have had less than woman's sagacity had she not detected the complete change in his manner, and sus pected that by felicity he really meant quite another feeling. When I looked in upon him shortly nfter, impelled by knowing curiosity to hear the continuation of his story, I found him ex tremely quieted, and almost solemn in his manner. It required only sympathetic ex pressions on my part to induce him to tell me all that had passed. "Well," I said, "I congratulate you.— Your happiness is now about to begin. I never was in that condition myself, but I have always imagined that n man, when he has received permission to get the ring and the license for the woman he loves, must be supremely happy." He looked at me with a lugubrious air that was almost comic, and said— " Yes, I suppose I am happy now." "Suppuse?" "Well, to be quite candid, I don't think I should ever have discovered that I was hap py if you had not told mo so. Perhaps a bridegroom's happiness is of a serious kind. Certain his that I am awfully serious. It's a devilish ticklish thing, let me tell you, to feel yourself about to take such a plunge in nn unknown gulf." "But you love her, don't you?" "Passionately." "Then how is it that the idea—" "My dear fellow, love is all very well; but not uo man can be expected to bo gay when marriage comes tumbling on his head like a chimney-pot. You wouldn't like it yourself." "Then give her up." "That's easily said." "Do you want to be her husband, or do you not?" "Yes—anti no. Look here, I tell you what it is. There is a story of a soldier standing outside a shop-window looking at a picture of a military,execution, where the faithful dog is fawning upon the kneeling wretch, who is awaiting hie execution. 'I would sell myself to the devil for that pic ture,' said the energetic soldier, in his en thusiasm. A horrible old woman heard the words, rushed into the shop, bought the pic ture, thrust it into his astonished hands, and said with witch-like savageness: 'There's the picture, and yotsr soul is mine.' It seems to me that I am very much like that soldier." "I can't understand you. The other day you were in raptures about Mrs. Beau champ." "So lam still. No woman could be more charming, and if I wanted a wife—but you I,see don't, and that's the fact." "Well, you bad better tell her so before it's too late." "It's too late already. Besides, I don't like the idea of giving her up. She's an es quisite creature, and that's the truth.— Don't you think marriage a ,ery absurd institution?" "No, I ean's say I do," said I. "Then why are you a batobolorl" $1,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE. "Why? Probably because I'm not mar- tied." "Now, be serious. Help tne with your advice." "My advice is, if you love her, marry; if you don't, don't." The announcement cf Smythe Briggs in terupted our conversation. Ruckit had only time to whisper— "Now I'm in for a. scene! But if Briggs has come here to dispute my claim, he shall find I'm not a nose-of-wax. I may want your aid." Briggs entered, and after the usual futile attempts to stave off the real object of his visit, he turned away from the portrait of Mrs. Beauchamp, and said to me— "l say, Johnson, it's a deuccd hard thing we should always he dupes of women, though, isn't it?" "Very," I replied." "They make us all as blind ns moles—ex treme asses." "Speak for yourself, Briggs," said J, laughing.. "Well, I do speak for myself. That woman there," pointing to her portrait, "doesn't she look the soul of truth? Sho isn't the woman she seems." "Indeed?" "She seems mild, gentle, smiling, tender, doesn't she? Well, then, she is * * *if my marriage were not irrevoenbly fixed, wad if it were not for these disgw4ting 'thuna4em' "You don't mean to say—?" saki Rlck. it, eagerly. "Yes, I do, thmgh. Bless you, the cat is a gentle, quiet, graceful, purring animal, but we all know the claws she sheathes in velvet." "You astonish and alarm nlo—l mean for von," said Rackit. "I am astonished and alarmed for myself," he retorted. "You haven't to marry her.— I have." Back it looked monstrously uncomfortable, "You know," cordoned Briggs, ••I'ar not very particular. Women aren't angels. ‘'ire call them so, hat of course that's all gammon. And if Mrs. Beauchamp had only shown a littlo skittishness, I shouldn't much have minded. Nay, had shd ahcevs shown her real temper, I could have made up my mind to it, as she) makes up tier's to my not having a Roman nose. We arc none of us perfect. "Especially some of us," I said. "As you say seine of us. She's of the some. I'll tell you what it is makes ma so uncomfortable. For so many years—ever since I can remember—she has only sh wn her velvet paws, now, you'll own that * never once to give a hint of the claws, looks 5u. , ,- piciciously hypocritical, don,t it?" "Surely you must be exaggerating," said Ititekit "Nut a bit. Place yoarFolf irk my posi ECM "I can perfectly." "No, yuu can't; not until you r know all.— S u ppose you had chosen a wife whom you believed to be tender, amiable, without a bit of deceit, and then suddenly you find the ice crocking beneath your feet, while you are skating far away from the books, and no Humane Society at hand." "Yes 308." said Rackit, nervously.— "Well?" "You suddenly discover that your angel has a tempeT—a feminine temper—a temper A 1, and no mistake! All gentleness then was hypocrisy, and you are left to guel. what remnins behind." Briggs come cspre.sly to heap coals of fire on the head of the unfortunate painter, ho could not more maliciously have chosen his words. I a ,, lted him what wa4 the source of this change in his opinion of the widow. "I can't tell," he said. "It was only be cautie I yesterday made a row innocent re remarks on her portrait, and when we gut into the brougham she was in such n tan tarem! In fact we had a regular !row',— the first, and a surprised Observe, I don't lay much stress on that. Perhaps I was wrong. Be it so;—hut she Stir/Wed hergell to be so unjust, unreasonable. fantastic, and irritable, that I saw, as iu a flash, my whole married life before me—a horrible vista of brats and bickering." "Lovers, quarrels!" said T, nplinget lea Ily "Lovers' fiddleiticks," he repl.ed "Itsck•- it, old fellow, you have nn irritable temper; take warning in time and don't marry." "I won't," paid that nnbnppy man, gloomily. "At any rate do not marry one of those gentle creatures—they are lambs till they get you in their clutches, and then they're tigresses, Be warned by me." .PD'ye thins.," said Briggs to me, I•could manage to pot off the match a few months? Suppose I were to break my leg, now, would . there be achance ',flier marrying some one else." "No," Brad RaCkit. "it would only _rouse her sympathy tor you." Here Bob'etione in to say that a messenger was below; wanting to see Mr.. Briggs. That • gentleman went down stairsi leaving me alone with Rsokit,,.who looked question. at me. "This is awkward," I said. "I thought," said Rackit, "Briggs had come to dispute my claim, and I had armed myself to resist Wm fiercely. Instead of that, I find him willing to break his leg on the chance of getting rid of her." Briggs returned, crushing a. note in his hand, and showing the greatest agitation. [WHOLE NUMBER. 1,618. Ws a-ked him if anything was the nostter, any bad news "No," he said, "nothing. At least noth- ing unexpected." "You seem put. out.'! "Yet I ought to be jolly,--big,hly so. What I wished for has arrived; and when one's wishes aro realized, one is supposed t' be happy," "That'A a vulgar error," said Rae • Only the most superficial philosophy could propound such a view as that happiness con- gists in the realization of' our wishes. Men are asses, and don't knoW what to wish fur!" "I believe your right." "I'm sure I'm right. Brown wishes for the command of a ship. gets it and. has hie heal blown MT en the first 'broadside.-- Smith wishes Mary Jane to name the day; she names it, and he 'never stniles again. It's always so. Truc happiness, I maintain, consists in disaprointmcnt." "What a cynic you are! Ii you bad re !ived such a letter as ti.i4—hut I can't speak of it—it throttles me. Itackit, ral mi•erable." "So am I." 'Not so miserable as m.. "Worse." "Impossible:you don't ..vhat it is t.) live the woman who %To:l'f ,Illt r c " "You don't know what it is t•) love such en angel as Emily—an angel, ir there ever was ono on earth." "You said just now tho was a tigress." "5..) she is! None but a tigress coulThave written such a letter." He caught up his bat, cad n3ada for tho door Were are you go:at:'• "I don't know. Peihlp to drown my self—probably to the Corn Exchange. Gaod bye." lle vanished, leaving Rackit thoroughly miNerable. I have never thought Liarvey's Meditations ammg Sank: a lively work, but it is gaiety it-elf compared with the re flections which fell from the once gay and flighty Rackit. Never greatly outrapeefl by matrimony, the prospect of marriage, with a widow who had her "inGrtnities of temper," way far from cheerio,;. The grapes which hung ED) tempting when out of reach, seem ed unpleamtntly unripe now that he had clam bered within reach of them. ARTenCs Weatr mg his TRACEr.s.—Since I last tit you l'vo met with immenSo St=Css a showin my show in earls places, partio/S at Detroit. I put up at Mr. Russel's tav ern, a very good tavern too, bat I arJ sorry to inform you that the clerks tried to oum the George Game on me. I brandished my now sixteen dollar huntitt-cased watch-round considerable, & as I was dresst in my store clothes & had a lot of sweet-scented wagon grease on my hair, I tun free to confess that I. thought I lookt putty gay. It never once ' struck me that I luukt green. Bat up steps a clerk & axes me hadn't I better put my watch in the Safe "Sir," se: I that watch e. , qt sixteen doll Irv! Te•+ Sir, every-dollar or itl can't cum it over me, my ho3l Not at all. Sir. I know' , l what the clerk wanted. Ile wanted that watch himself.— fie wanted to make believe as • tho heloCitt it up in the safe, then he would set the house n fire and pretend as tho the watch was destroyed with the other property! Bet he caught a Tumarter when ho got hold me. From Detroit Igo West'ard hoe.— On the cars was it be-log kin fetnole, with a green-cotton umbrellor in one baud and a handful of Reform tra . cksin the Other.. She sod every woman should have a 'Spear.— Them as didn't deniand their Spears, didn't know what was good for them, "What is my Spear?" she axed, addressin the peple in the cars, "Is it to stay at home kdarn stockins & ho the ser-/are of a domincerin man? Or is it'my Spear to vote & isp_eak show myself the ekal of man? Ii there • a sister in these keers that has her. pt:oaer Spear?" Sayin which the eccentric:denude whirld her unth , oller round several times, & finally jabbed nao in the weskit -s hare no objeeshurt to yourgoia into the spear bizniss," sez I, "but,yo,p'ii_p' t ease remember I ain't a pickeril. .Dan:t.,Spepr me agizi if you please." Sha sot down.. At Ann Arbor, heirs seized with a =ldea faintness. I called for a drop_of tuthin;„to drink. As I was stirrin tho bcverageolp t a pale-faced man in gold spectacles lkAti 4 ktis band upon my shoulder. sod, :'l;osik,ztot upon the wine when it is red:" • . 4 .. 40 „„, Sez I, •*This ain't wine. .114 s is 1 01 d aye." ..11 siingdh like an Arldecand.bactrt Mc a @pent!" seti the man. , „ . • , • "I gueesnot," eed I, "when yots.znimligar in it. That)! the way I aliens take mine." "llev you sons .groan up, Si:?" the man axed. , "Wall," I replide as fput myself outside my 1 "e..f.aVt, , ,.,';,a 3 Y, sou Artemus junior 3s -goin on IS." , "Ain't you afraid-if you set this example be 4 him, he'll cum ton bad end?" "lle's own to awaited Lad alreidy. learnin the shoemakin bizness," I replied. "I guess wo can both on us git along with out your assistance, Sir," I observed se be was about to open his mouth agia. "This is a cold world!" sed the :Dan. '"Tha.'s so. But you'll git into a Witmer one by and by if you don't mind your own biznias better." i w. 1.4 a Efttla r i led at,froe feller beesinqo I never take anytbin only when I really need it. I afterwards learned he WWI a temperance lecturer. and if be ,Fan ESSI IM :t' a . EMIR EOM
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers