- . - - •''' , -* . " 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