Illi
VOL.
THE 'PEOPLE'S JOURNAL.
reimisuED IssErn: THURSDAY MOR&INfi,
BY ADDFON AVERY.
Terms—lnvariably in Ailvnince:
One copy per annum,
Village subscribers,
• TERMS OF ADVERTISING
1 sqoare,-of lines or int , rt;on; t?.11.71i1
- a <4
0
. " ' -every 4ub , ..eiltien: insertion, :23
R.u'e and figure wor!c, per , T , 3 insertion:, 3.40
Every subequent in4ertion, - - :ill
1 euhunn,"une year. . • 9.5:0
1 co:ninn. qix month., I:i.tifi
Adulizti- - renr , ' or E%eeittors' Notice., '2.011
Ehori - r- Sa!e-., per tract. - 1.59
p r ace , :ion ti Card: not exceeding eight lines
I, o ,r:ea for .$l.OO per annum. • . ..
AI! le:ter: on liu , iness, to ceenre sit
teirion. ,hould be addres:cit (1104 Paid) . to
the Pubh-ber.
0,31 E BY ONE
Ond.by one the ands'are. flowing;
one one the tnnmenti fall;
s ome are' Cowing, ionic , ore going
D o not sirice gra,i) in o alt.
One :It , (111:,ez tlwe.
\\-11,0e -tret:2'.ll ize !,) each ;
Let 11,, i'.l!•are &e lm- e',:,re thee,
Learn :holt ‘c - hat the,e c:ltt teach
One by one (Inizht gif, from Heat en)
Joc+are sew ;hee here ;
Take the•n reatiiiy o !,en _icen,
Ready. ion. to ie; :hew go.
One by one :hy gr cG 'dm!! meet thee
- Do no fear an ,arm , •d h did :
One will fade gree7 thee.
Shadow , : pa<>iuo ihrongh the land.
Do not look at life's long sorrow ;
See how small each moment's pain;
God help thee for to-morrow,
Every d it
Every ie):ir 111.1
H a , i to ..1; to do or Le'lf
LW/1;11 1 11i 1110 F1'441111. 411141 1141:y,
if thou set each gem whh care
Do t i nt linger c ith rPr.rre.:•inz.
o r a—pcma,
rsnr 11y d tily
Look 109 eagerly beyond!.
•
Hours are golden links. God's token,
Reaching [leaven : but one by ow
T3INC them, lest the chain be broken
Ere thy pilgrim;_.: be done.
From Graham's Saturday Evening Mail
THE SILVER CUP.
Tit !.1115. M. A. PtSISOS
CHAPTER I
...The morning blink- fin heavy
oad+. but it shut:: it , &en on a clear, i:tarry.
John Ivers sat in his little room. a
despairinz man. His hands
thisi:ed ti , ..fhtly over his face, biU nr.i
tude sorrowfql. it was (.1 y
ti s;:e. that lie Was lab(
deep aliliction. A miniature in a phtin
morocco case, lay withlu a hand's i•asp„
open, and till dint with the ttnr that
had, just fallen upon it. Like a com
forter came the sun, and touched the
brown locks Nvith tints like gold, and
brightened up the well-worn colors in
the homely carpet. Vet, thouuh the.
soft warmth ii:e_fered caressingly on
his brow and his locked ting.ers, dohn
heeded it not. What were sunlight
and :he 1.114 . :ii ;l.y to more
P,:sed Lilo. -ei., If' lie ttought o f
sunlicrht, he saw under its ,dadaess
tombA.m.- : a d when the VV,-t: LTretV
l::! t:: 'e " day can no:
reach
)11c. orirt r ot tl,e nn,rn ,3t0,n1
harre Vi• t!!)Vt'red IV (111 . 4. :A
lay Ilea:. I,raith.d with
ornaments of horn and peail, and it
was while attomplina 'CO s o und a f e w'
notes upon it, that the tears gushed
forth, and he abandoned to
grief.
An hour passed, and still his antis
were ti , itly clonclied. The brown
curls no loner brigLtened by the sun,
fell in clouded masses, hiditn‘ the blue
veins that swelled over his brow. The
hitch was lifted, the deo4 npet:ed !len
tly, and an old lady :,..0a on the tin esh
old, gazing with an anxious manlier
upon the silent fimire. A black rib
bon handed her cap, a =uu« r kerchief
was folded over her bosom. The locks
brnuothlr parted upon a wt inkled brow
were white and alisteniticz like eilver,•
yet the blue eves shone with a tender
beaut'.
In her army lay au infimt of three.
months. Fr,t;zile a , a wreath of snow
it 5, emc-,-1 cheol;c trau7'arently
delicate. fin loci wit!, a ! laic
eyes were :,!-0 VerY
their 'glance = wandered dreamily
as it' some 01,..tec, the. could'
tut rind. A z..athes.; strangely mature
rested upt,n it, tiny features; pour
baba —it wa, inc.therless.
Finding that her son took no notices
of this interrilpthm. the good woman.
slowly entered, and cloned the door
again with a careful hand. Smoothing
the infant's clothes, which were of the
plainest, she moved noiselessly towat'd•
him, and said with a broad, Scotch ac
cent,
..T. Am, my son."
"Let me 'be, mother ; don't speak
to the;" lie answered; never looking,
up. •
" But I must speak to you, John,"
she said again, as a tear rolled down
her withered cheek, and fell upon. the
'~IH Na
- • • .
, A
-4- . 1.
. •
infant's )17:a. You' Must listen. •to
yu - ur auld inother,.my son. Bessie is
gave—who AYouh4, recall her Have
ye na heard of the babhy whosemoth
er's tears *et its . Wilidingsheet 1 lot
that I think there's l (My truth in' the
story - , because, in •God'i providence;
the dead canna ken our mortal woe ;
but there's na comfort in it, my son, to
the living. Your groans and tears fall
heavy on the heart of your avid moth
er, and Oh JOhn, it's woe that I can
na coretlirt
As she said this she turned quickly
to stoop over the fhce of the babe.
The tears poured from her eyes - note,
aturshe could not check the sob that
sprang,to her lips. For a Moment the
young man bowed his.•head upon the'
table ; taco he sprang from his seat,
apd walked the.floor, striving to com
mand his voice, but he could not. • •
" Ftn'sure the Lord's bin•verra kind
to ye, John ; you're a young man yet,"
continued the mother after a few mo
ments of silent vveepiag, ; " you have
strem , th and talents, and we're in 'no
damrer of starvation y'et- Bethink,
John, trial.l twice'went through,
and—"
$l.OO
123
Volt never loved.as . l did, mother
—never, itevez !" he (lied passitinate
ly, flopping in his walk, and pressing
his hand upon his heart.-
The widow did not answer him di
rectly, ooh glanced upwards, saying
with a tremulous lip, "The Lord above
knows!"
I wish I was under ground !" ex
claimed the young man with bitter
carner..tnes.-2:. •• There's no use for me
to hope. to plan, or to love—no use.
Everti• thing g•)e wrong. 1 can not
keep a little money by me ; I can not
afibrd to study music as I should to
make it profitable, because of poverty ;
every thing goes Wrang . -1 - have noth
ing to live for. - •
Puir wee bit thing I" murmured
the old mother gazing mournfully at
the babe ; puir wean —your father
cares na for ye, nor for the muthet
that nursed him mabbe."
• " Mother, mother," cried John fall- -
ing upon his knees, and hiding his face
upon her shoulder ; ".bow can you,
speak so, when you know I would die
for you I" and . his strong sobs shook
her frame. - She laid het - faded cheek
ag.ainst his brown curls, and pressed
her lips together that she might not
• weep. Then She silently lifted the lit
tle one up close to his fare. As he.
felt the velvety pressure of the Eplt
hand, instead of catching the baho to
Li; le-east. he sprang again to his feet
with a look of home:, and sliuddering
lv cost her life ; Oh, baby,
that von had never been born l Maw
(lod.take thce frith tine mother."
•• John, John exclaimed the old
woman \vitt' a stern dignity, "it may
he you will rim the words Ye ha' spo
ken. It's a puir bairn at best ; a 'bird
with a broken wing ; and its eyes seem
yearning after i-lea Teri., It has na
, .milk like other bairns, and cruel .it
seems it ninA. ha' its fathers hate.
! you never were a bad son
to me—ye canna bLt au ow:aural pi -
rent. See !-the bit creature smiles to
ve ; look, 3ohn, it's asking you to
love it.
The youn , man bent patkingly over
th . e child, and t‘ ached its dimples with
his finger ; Mill it s,fifiled, and
,with its
:•weet, inarticulate language, wooed
him to smiles.
Play for him JThn. just one or
two of your sweet sounds. My aln
ear is aching; for the music you never
' make of inte. Tak' your flute,.John,
your mild mother tak' it td
and play sdnie'gude, solemn air,
one that 1 love.'
Silently and with evident reluctance.
John took his flute, and ran . a wild,
• melancholy preludeovei : its .keys.
• ‘• Lo . ok at your hoy ;" said his moth
' er softly, "play on but watch him."
It did seem as ii' the babe controlled
its restieSs motions, its large eyes turn=
ed towards its father ; presently the
little lip curled as if with grief„and
although it did not weep, 'the lip quiv
ered on, till Joh n springing from his
seat, cried, " I cannot bear it ; never
ask me to play again, mother ;" and
de.-hing his flute down, he almost flew
from the house.
• • TIIE ACCIDEN:T.
Time went on; and the - babe thou7,h .
still very fragile and tiny ti.;r its
seemed healthy. and likely ter: thi - ive.:
John bad learvzi to loye,.nay almost
worship his child, and spent hours by,
his, cradle side' playing a flute or viol;
But indeed it seerni'ae if the red
would come to ,histheek 'na' meter
the mother would atm saY to a:neigh
but 3 " and do but mention /ar name,
and he gaes.bv himself. Ah.! 'twas a
sore stroke." . Bessie was a bonny crea
tore with an 'swept face
. and
canny smile. 'l'Cae wonder' it a'maist
broke ihis- heart, :par, bny,:and they
but ane year: marrieitt Ye would ea
, believe," she would add in the honea
.DE''O6TED'TO THE .PRINqPLES.OF DEIOCILACY,-AND -THE DI§SEILNATION LITERATDRE, AND NEW§
CII.II''I ER II
COUDERSPORT, POTTER COUNTY, PA., NAY 24, 1855.
. .
Pride of her Scotch heaft,. " how the
bairn-takes to the music. His fivaers
!It twitch; an' his hit lips open;.an' it's
my thocbt.that God 'll make up his
troubles to him.. aften seen the
motherless seem special cared fur, and
gifts gi‘en them that idlers bac not.
John.ll gie him a first rate schooling ;
he's . doin' Terra weel now."-
Seveo.years bad gathered mold up-,
on liessie.s grave, wtien one bright
.
mornmgJohn' was brought home to
his little cottage, dreadfully burned.
Neighbor after neighbor crowded about
the door to ,hear the sad news; and one
of the women after going in, was soon ,
seen holding her apron to her eyes,
and leading Jonnv by the hand. The
boy struggled, an - d' tears rolled 'dOwn .
his delicate cheeks, but he still hugged
to his bosom his father's violin and
how. "He did not want to go away,"
he said, "he wanted to see granny and
ask' her why she cried so ; he wanted
to see 'what the tall man was doing to
his father, and what made his father
cry so loud ;" but after a while the
child.was pacified and consented to go
with the woman to her own home. '
As the two were crossing to the
humble dwelling, a gentlema'n ap
proached on horseback He scanned
the boy narrowly, then reined up his ,
horse, and exclaimed with an air of
perplexity, Charlie—no ; hut surely
'tis Charlie, why should he• he -Were
but then the clothes—the clothes. My
good woman," he cried, as the neigh
bor was slowly entering her, gate, hair
ing also been attracted by his•earnest
ness, ‘• «'hoo child is'that
"Jonny Ivers,' sir, the man that's
just burned so badly ; Jonny, look up
to the gentleman. if it was n't for the
accident, sir, I'd gCt him to play for
you do play sweetly uilon the fid
-o
dle, sir."
" No matter," returned the gentle
man, " I have. a little son so like I
thought it was he ; let me see if I have
anything for Jonny ;" and plaiting his
hand in his vest pocket, he took out a
five dollar gold piece, and throwing it
to the child, .rode on.
For some time John's life was des
paired of, but by his mother's skillful
attention, and the devotion of the kind
physician, he was at last pronounced
out of danger, though it was feared he
would be a cripple for life.
"God tempers the wind to o the shorn
iamb, John," murmured Its mother
tl - 10,thiwz hack his bright locks.
"Oh! but it's hard ; trouble, trouble,
trouble ;" replied the languid sufferer;
too weak_ to wipe the tears away that
trickled down his clier-I.ls. "Just as I
Was zettiag -a snug little• sum-. too, to
send .Tonny to school -with. Oh ! itts
very d."
'You should be thankful that my auld
heart is not bleeding above your grave,
Jonnv Ivers, and that your boy hasa
father yet. You should_ be thankful
• that vou cau,see the sun shining, my
puir boy ;- for it came nigh that you
was blind forever. John. As to little
Jonnv. the Lord will take care of him,
res. if ve should never be able to do
a stitcii work amain, GocHI take Care
o Jormv. • S.) don't ha‘:e an ill thought
about him, my sun, but spend your
breath in praise of a covenant-keeping
God. Ye've na bin hunted like the
wild beast to his lair amarig the rocks
of the mountains, and cowered under
your plaid wi' your biuid 'turning to
ice, and the sword of red murder not
a foot from your hiding place.• Ye're
na seen your children dashed to pieces
Iry the musket butts, and their inno-:
cent dabbling the green heather.
0! John, ye.ve suffered; puir bairn,
but ye ken little what real suffer
ing
"Whistl who is that, mother 1"
" the bit bairn, God l'dess him,
playing Auld Lana Synei ye could - na
do it better yoursel'
..A-scarlet flush dyed the cheek of
the fair invalid; : his eves shone with '
unwonted ,brightness, aiid.the the tears
that trembled no upon his lashes,
were those of'uninixedjor. 1-Es me-
ther sthle to the do 4, and looked with
in the .adjoining room. There sat the
voting, genius, heautiful with earnest
his, curk;failihg over the bent
Gnus, his rapt crlances watching, the
gliding bow as it ' called iiirth at his
Lidding 'harmonies that filled his soul
besre he, knew what music meant.
Hoot, John, ve•re crying now,.
. ye wad na cry if ye could . see
how \reel - the bairn holds his ho*, as'
if :he'd hen born wi' giftie. His
eyes•louk: so like his mothers. - 1 (John
turned his face to the wally that one
Wad finiikit N ' y s ersel ' a'most. Weel,
ireet;'nev'er .you - fear for little Jonny,
boy, there's a Siller cup for him
somewhere, and for a' yOu'Fave him
- such unwelkim gieeting into this world,
.puir callant, ye may drink out of his
cdp vet. .
CHAPTER 111
• THE SENATOR'S 50:e. •
The windows ofi stately mansion
. .
were
.draped in mourning. From the
closed shutters, long, - long streamers
of black crape. Now and then a sorr
rowful face appeared above, pale and
wet with tears. The domestic:, spoke
in Whisp'erS, every tread was muffled . ;
and throughoht'all that great house one
could:not meet aisMile.
It was in the darkened p'arlor where
the little corpse was Shrived,within a
canopy of white velvet. He was nut
yet placed in the coffin;' he seemed a
thing too fair to shut from life. How
had those light curls been treasured!
White, fingers- had twined them, ad-
miring eyes 'coveted but a thread of-the
line gold that shed such a lustre•-on the
pearly forehead. Loving lips had
pressed -the rose to ripeness on his
cheek, -and his had answered, but now,
how still they were? Had those hands
beat time to infant song? Had love,
and joy, and grief, aridchildish wonder
sent their angels to look out from those
dull eyes Why then this quiet Why
the alive that chilled the warmer hearts
beating in that gloomy room?
Thou alone eans*t, answer, dread death.
Poor mother! she came in supported
by, hiving arms, and- she tottered up to
the'corpse. In her hand rested that of
a beautiful little girl, who asked all
'manner of innocent questions, while the
tears - fell more f o r, her mother's an
-guish than her own.
"Why does he lay so still, say mother?
I . waked up this morning, and 1 did'ut
hear him laugh. Nurse says he is dead;
is that what you are crying for ? What
is dead ? Was you ever dead, mamma?
You hurt nit• hand, you hold it so hard.
What makes it be so dark ?"
"0! my boy, my Charlie !" was the
sad and only response—"y ! my boy,
have I lost you ?"
"When Charlie got lost before, you
cried very bad. mamma ; but he came
back again, Won't he get 'up by to
moriow
"Hush, my daughter," said her
father, sadly, and. then he pressed his
lips together—gave way to nature with
a gush of tears, and folded his sobbing
wife to his bosoM. With one great
effort,.at last, .he checked his sorrow,
raised his wondering child, and bade
her kiss the dead doy. She complied,
but : shrieked as she felt the clammy
coldness, that "she did not. want to kiss
him any more, that he was not like her
'hfother now."
There was one voice, one form. one
charm less in the . stately mansion of
Charles Hampton. But yesterday the
Senate rang with applause at men.-
lion of his name. AVhat cared he to
day
ilut yesterday he was proud and con
-scions of inborn greatness, Walked with
a kingly mein.
To-day his ,head drooped on his
breast, and, his eyes were bent. down
wartN, as if ever looking On a grate.
But yesterday he had thowrht I will
gather wealth for. the sake or my boy,
and in all this Union . there Shull be 1.
none like him.
To-day, so much of beauty as form-
'
ed his dreams of coming splendor, so
much of intellect as.gave a promise of
some time ruling nations, so much of
genius as bade fair to rank with the
£t eat names of
.earth was—(LSl aitd
a 1h es.
Tim mother bereaved of her darling,
was inconsolable. Her grief threat
ened her life, and her husband was Mi t
despair. "If I could only see some]
child who looks like rdy lost Charlie
1 should. be happy," she constantly:.
moaned. -
One day Mr. Hampton betlioup:htl and lightened it too ; and then sweet
him of the little fellow Whom he had? i sounds grew rife, as father and son ac
once met in the suburbs of the city.--.!I companied each other on flute and
A ray of hope lightened his heart; he j violin.
took a. horse and was soon at the dooti I • Then the father . whose locks'. were
of the humble cottage. d beginning, to silver even thus early,
"John, John," said the mother; I was proud of his son. He bad lkmd
"there's a fine looking gentleman wants him speak before his peers, whi!e the
to see you. . Let me knoothe the pilloW i applause of fair and noble women
my son, and who knows hut what good made his eyes swim in tears—tears
Providence has sent him for SOME wise horn of the excess of happiness.
purpbSe; Walk in, will you please', Sometimes a beautiful girl hung on , a
~,
sir,my son will be glad to see you.". the a. rn of the Senator's adopted son ; , 'N ' S : hen 'Mr. Train paid the boy SatnrdaY
In the next room little Johnny was and the gentle, winning deference with night, &di to.d low hr. could not stay. Tb - ci
still-laboring through the intricacies of i which she regarded him, told the s e - ,-!, 0 -!,.., , per 0a- -tirori•ed: -How's this;'.
"Add Lang Syne : " i et . o. of h er yi
Jung heat t. Aye ! the
~rid he ;'-hlyn't 1,10 , n i e h we b ll by you thiiWeelti'
~ j o •i so ie n ye fi r ri e d ilV t.
".i . want to ..t - le your child;" - ,said the proud claw:fuer of Ilttrupton : , and the , ~"t". : ,;',...'', , i,4 , ,1 i r,•‘,",r , ,',. „ t r. .:
stranger. - - son of the hone,t, high-Minded .1.,htl 'vi h he pay r' '•No. s:r,l' an-no,•ered rieth, "it
"Here, Johnny, come out here, 'a
hers, were betrothed lovers: 21!nti a 1 - .i.''.,,' l ) . Y!' • "v; , -%;!, v.11.. , :'s the diineultv,
gentleman wants ye," said the proud weddite , ' came off ; a scene of Spleudor '!'"" r;:".,.l''"'rtli"Y hesitated 10 give liii
re - , 't. I i.rwl,i, l i v,..1) ~1 , ....e , i,,,b,t it war. ,
grandame. . . . suited to the magnificent fottone of O‘r .1; , • si-d. "t . ;uni e con e, " Seth. you Won't
"And my, fiddle, too ?" asked John- the bride's father. Good grandnostli-, eas e tne.l know ; 'di' r.,ise your wages." “11,
ny, presentinr , himself in the siek er Ivers, her . brow aS placid-as a stun , -r:' allswevtd the brave buy respeelnlll,
--y
i
room.. Abashed c at the earnest glance. iner's sky, beloVed by all who looked ou are very good to toe, very good, -ir; hut
:111(10 be a liC2Ult.ei.er. 1 atu afraid of the
bent upon hint; he tumbled at the stops upon her, .sat in the dignity of a lieu ,sissies, f o r i e..no,n for , ' e , . that the 111.ble. says,
of . his Violin, looking shyly now and brocade, the gift of Mrs. Hampton, -.1 he wages of sin i's deaill.7 ' .
then under his - eyebrows. . - and a cap fashioned by the fair hands Seth let'. The own af.erwards said it was
• Fstrangerl l
or a while the could not of the bride, receiving tbe.congiatula- -I In4rea.est se moo he e er_lrid preaehed to
I at& ii. se, hauseriousl lo dr-vking ..bout
speak, hut at: length, taking from his Lions of the company With a grace tif. ~I , `:i:,g u ,, business; bu. he did not, an - a - hilt
pocket an ele , frant case, he • laid the manner is refined as it was natural. 1 butt faith y Lure „,w10; wi,ness to the Bible
picture bilantly_ before the sick manj 1 . The next day Jelm.lvers and his deci..ridon. Are .v years af,erwards ht.. died
he in SCrilb:e de,oh of a drunkard, and within
"It is lie;',' cried, John Ivers. mother partook ofj the morning.
meal ss . moults his son, iu U. fi of into.; ication, fell
"Our Johnny," echoed the grand.: in their own house, the.giit of "theit ia.,-, ,lie ri‘er 4IPt Wni drowned. Is it not
mother, in great astonishment. • . child:
,It N - s, a beautiful little dwell , &on:emus' to tamper with the wages of sin on .
"Yes, I had a little boy, of whom - inn ore the bank of the Potomac, and s , "Y -ter"'“
this childis au exact counterpart.. We surrounded with fruit- and shade trees .
laid him in the grave last week,, and in abundance.- To heir astonishment None but the contemptible are ap
my poor wife is broken. hearted.' I the tea was brought theri in a silver 1 prehensive of contempt..
.
came good friends,' to . borroW your cup delicately chased, and lined with,
little one. Let him go home with me; gold, .
the sight of him will restore my wife, Tears trembled in the good Mother's
I am certain; and you know me, per- .eve , ,; tears °flow: and gratitude, as
haps; at least my name is familiar in site said, in a broken voice, "Did I not
Washington." - tell you John, my son, that there was
• "We know you, sir," said both moth- a silver cup somewhere for our noble
er and son. bow? Little did we dream we should
It was settled that the Senator should each'have one, and so. beautiful, too!
call for little Johnny the following day, Little did we think to see our johnnv's
and bring a suit of the dead boy's name in a' the papers, and the great.
clothes—that Johnny, accompanied by 1 of the' laud glad tbr a smile from.his
his grandmother, should leave for tht . bonny lips. `.:fib! John, pair, bairn,
city, for.the little fellow; was unwilling you thought you was so unfoitunate;
to go without her. • and von wished the bit boy dead.—
* 0 * 0 0 ~ , DMA you .4 ee how theLordhas brought
. JOUNNI'S NEW SIOTIIETI. it:about ? And Bessie, a saintin fleav=
"Mother, oh ! -mother-I' you'll be so cm : is happier than we all. .
glad! Charlie has Come to life a • oain. - "Aii! John, 'the morning blinks
1 told you he would," cried Lilly- sometimes on heavy clouds, but it shuts
Hampton, dancing into her mother's its eel, on a clear, starry night."
TOM.. • -
,
SMUT OF THE N. H. PUSS.
"Charlie will never come hack, my
child,". aid the motile' languidly, sink
ing hack upon the couch, from tvlurh
she sprang on the abrupt entrance, of
her little da_qglitt3r,.. and the. quick l.ec
tic tlu p ir•feterit iutu white, and the fibs
grew colorless.
"But he has come, 'mother, and you
won't cry any more; be has come, and
here he is."
"Where did you find this childr
almost shrieked the mother, springing
to her feet, her eyes di•tended and
fixed upon little Johnny ; "oh ! are, voo
deceiving me? am I dreaming tlas
my lost buy come indeed from the
glavel"
Words can never depict the eager
joy with which the invalid folded little
Johnny to her -bosom, ran her thy - o•rs
nervously through the soft curls, held t
him off and dreN. , him tOrward zorain,
exclaiming rapturously, "Sci
so very like him ; my dear buy, vti ill
you lore me! will iou be my child -7
wilbyou call me mother?"
CHAPTER 1\
T 111.60011 FORITSE.
•
.Fnom the time that little Johnny was
cared for, John Nets rapidly recov
ered. From that hour, fortune §miled ;
for the good. Senator used all his influ
ence to procnre the young man a po.t
under covernment. Then how rapidly
the little slielk•es in the neat -sittbr-.
room l*gareto be filled with good and
valuable books,' until there grew the:
nec e s,,,4 for a book-case, with gl'ass
doors, With thi< C 3 luxurie.;,
and John ittdui e i i elegant t, - ete3 to
his heart'- eoll:eni. l piano-1;11 to, and
aliarp Were added to niusiral ,t,tr.
and many a sweet and plaintive str..ia
of meitidy found its way to the pubb-h-
er, and from thence to the hearts of tun
:people: John bt.tcame a popular c nn
poser; invitations \vete sehthiM fr,tn
musical societies, and ane clubs
paid him handsome sums flir hiS bean
tiful flute solos, and so at lenhth John
ivers was famous iil-his native - St tte.
His good 01d in ther, 11ith her 'Scotch
tongue, but thorough American
no lonffer delved around the little
kitchen, busied about many thing r:.
with anxious brut, - and sprit, but sat,
in her, neat cap and I,mcl,ien
for her " two .1 modes:" And such a
picture of 7:elitle, contented old avc, as
she was—ahrays ready with' a smikt
and a good wtod,-always telling of the
mercies of God, and sending the rays
of l.kr sunny nature wherever she
moved.
Often a tall young maii: - 3 - yith eyes of
bright blue, and brown curls cluster
over a handsome brow, darkened the
entrance of their cottage—darkened
Cr '
The Concord Reporter presents
ju-t.views upon tlie duty - of each
pally to z:uppott its own press.
It a Iv-
No party can lurtz Maim:tin itself,
without the aid of the press. - It is the
qt eat levei of public opinion.in a free
c. , untre. and whatever May be said to
the cialtrdry, no party can long exist.
without the aid of efficient and well
corid uct of grins oft:pinbvi. It is, there
the dory Of all pt,ittes, to support
the preys which advocates and sustains
its Opinions and its interests. We are
aware that large numbers, formerly
belonging to the old Pierce organiza 7 ,
thM, still coMinue to support the
Pi;.rre Thug Press. They should.
let've no support from the patty whom
- they so constantly traduce.. Let them
their own fallen -and waning:
for the aliment which feeds
th'eir m.dice and sustains their ability
tH traduce their opponents.
ILpotter has also a lengthy anti
~.eathing article from the pen of Mr.
I;ittke. upon the administration. • The
foilc ? wing description has much of
truth in
:Mr. Pierce was a great man arnon r ,c ,
Deputy Sheriffs, bar-keepers, and.
hostler:: at Concord. He finds himself
pigmy amonf , the men by whom he
surrounded ' at Washington. He
\Vas the author and motive spirit of a
very dirty and corrupt sy, , tem_of
poli
tics at Concord, now with it•i dirty
took repudiated by the people of this .
State. That system he carried to
V:at,hingtou, and attempted to Maugu
nile in tics gri!af thentre d national
f.oiitic.s. He s,l‘7 it kicked out of doori
ity tio2 real _NIL:: i)fthe nation, and him
loolivd upon as a charlatan and
impo-tor in tateq - nan , hip. all the
Cu'dninistrations thlt have 'vet exited
is lids country, Mr. Pierce's will go
duivn to postelityas the wealiest, the
most corrupt and tno,t cuntelptible.
AFRAID OF THF, WAGES
want yonr bey in t..y shop," said a shop
keeper to a poor vßio•.y; 1 have htdagrett
trimb'e c ciirr, and now I want
li; to I"khow he'.• honest The;
fir it was tittle h to he
end -tie thoiitthi . it won:d
,he world to have 6ilil go in
'i.e knew he v. oii.il suit
fir h r d %veil itverp.m.h.!re. -
t,‘"h e n hon-.eir,ml...cLoo tn.: was
with hi. good foriii h e
;.; his mother wnit nei.her mr...her nor sun
any iiiitr; about Mr. Trains store; it
a- 10 thit over piirt of th.i . town, hit h;i
• %i,.• widly.'s in tine s - ) ie.—
h r:a,u, To the nest onct.ly morning: tend
winning he was putictu.itty at his lie V 7
The week paQsed away. When he came
hone to dinner or su r f ei, his mo her u-ed to
a-h how he iked it. t A fir s ., he e lid, •pce s ty
well(' and then. Ito didn't ex..c.ly know"
Ciii,‘Not %cry and Saturday, he told
lit Inn her p.natn v, th:it ..he did not like n at
all, and w,t,n t io lig to siay.."•lVhy, Seth,"
e .eia.med his moffier, grieved and mortified at
the ch.inge. yon difficult to Snit as all
this come. to .? Do you know how' important
o iel: io t oar busine— ! NVhat will Mr.
Tram 511:: ''• Mn" her. - an.wered the boy
-.he shop it a grog-shop; and 1 canna 6:ay
there. - The mother's tumuli was stopped; in•
deed, afier tha" she had no wish to have him
recia.n,; but she was vcry -sorry that the case
NO. 1.