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MIEMI
VOL. LIX.
THE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER
PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY, AT NO. 8 NORTH DUKE STREET.
BY GEO. SANDERSON.
MEER
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THE SUMMER SHOWER
Sweet rain !
Glitter, glitter softly down !
Patter over fields and down
Out upon the wave I see
Little shapes fantastioly—
Little shapes in silver shoes—
Flitting out on airy toes ;
Patter, Patter, welcome rain,
Over roof and over plain.
Sweteest rain !
Bless, 0 ! bless, this summer even,
Spirits in the clouds of Heaven,
Who do, laughing lowly, sit,
Weaving rain and pelting it,
At this scorching town or ours—
Scorching town and fainting flowers !
Globules silvery, crystal clear,
Bursting into spray mid-air;
Scattering perfume everywhere !
Sweteest rain !
0, steep each blooming spray in damp!
0, on the perfumed herbage tramp!
0, flood the garden's haunts-0, press
The shrubbery's spicy juciness!
Then bring thy fragrant lips to me,
0, sweetest rain, 0, luxury!
Oh! melt upon my mouth in bliss,
Me thrill with thy sweetest iciness!
Bless, 0, bless this summer even,
In the aloud built hall of Heaven,
Elfish spirits who gather, and
Like the wild bride of Hildebrand,'
Weave a woof of mist, and gem
With water-beads, and dropping them,
Bathe in life reviving showers
This panting. scorching town of ours ;
KEEP IT BEFORE THE PEOPLE
Keep it before the people,
That the earth was made for wan,
That the flowers wero strewn
And fruits were grown
To bless and never to bane ;
That sun and rain,
And coin and grain
Are yours and mine, my brother—
Three gifts from HeaTen,
And freely given
To one as well as another
Keep it before the people,
That famine and crime and wo
Forever abide
Still side by side,
With luxury's dazzling show :
That Lazarus crawls
From Dives' Halls,
And starves at his gate, my brother—
Yet life was given
By God from Heaven,
To one as well another.
Keep it before the people,
That the laborer claim his meed—
The right of soil,
The right of toil,
From spur and bridle freed !
The right to bear,
And the right to share,
With you and me, my brother—
Whatever was given,
By God from Heaven,
To one as well as another.
.A. MAAS.A.X.ED MAN'S EVE.
There's daggers in man's eye!"
[We think it probable that the follow
ing is an old story, though we never met
with it it contains so large a
portion of truth, as we must in all fair,
ness acknowledge, and is calculated to do
so much good, that it is worthy of even an
annual publication.]
Open the window,' Hetty, said my uncle
Andover, to the housemaid 3 let in a little
fresh air this fine morning.'
Hetty threw up the sash quickly, and
smash ! went a pain of glass. The poor
girl turned her frightened eye toward us,
but my uncle went on talking as if ho had
not heard the noise.
I Sir, Mr. Andover, please look,' said
Hetty, have broken a pane of glass, and
Miss Andover will be so angry !'
Angry?—for what? Here take this
money,' said he, and run off for the
glazier. I will pick up the pieces while
you are gone. Angry,' indeed ! Miss
Andover does not get angry for such
trifles ;, but be off before she comes home,
if you are afraid.'
Dear uncle Andover l—he screened
everybody from harm. All Camperdown
knew the value of his friendship. He was
jut turned of sixty, with a healthy, un
broken constitution, a fine flow of spirits,
and an even temper. He was benevolent
and untiring in his disposition to do good;
and as all the world knew this, he was not
suffered to remain unoccupied a moment.
All this, added to a large income, and a
large heart, made him one of the most
popular pen in Camperdown.
With all these qualifications, it was a
wonder he never married, for he was a very
handsome man, even at his advanced age.
But he was a bachelor from choice, I as
sure you ; for many a lady, even now,
would be glad to receive an offer from him.
Strange as it may appear, it is nevertheless
really true, my uncle was never in love—
that is, violently in love, as I am at this
moment—and therefore he never thought
of marriage.
My dear uncle,' said I, when the glazier
had gone, how has it happened that you
never married You have always been
rich, and from what I can now see, you
must have been very handsome.'
here my uncle pulled up his collar, and
settled his chin, casting his eyes toward
the Oafs.
'Why, as to that, Leo, I believe I was
tolerable well-looking in my youth, and I
cannot but say I had many inducements to
marry. My parents were very desirous
that I should fall in love, and many a
beauty was pointed out to me ; but
I sup
pose I had no turn for the tender paision.
The fact is, Leo, that I loved every woman
no well, that I was afraid of hurting the
feelings of the whole sex, if I gave one
the-preference. This was not, however,
the only reason,' said he after a pause.—
' I had another and a stronger one. - All
my life I have been watching the behaviour
of men to their wives, and I never met
one man—no, not even your father, and
he came of a gentle kind—who did not
scourge his wife the very moment she was
in his power. And, Leo, mark my words,
you will do it, too. It is human nature ;
it seems a thing not to be helped.'
Scourge their wives! 1 scourge a
woman !—such a lovely creature as Flora
Webb !' thought I. But what do yon
moan by scourging
I mean what I say. Do you think
there is only one kind of scourging? I
certainly do not mean beating, though
I many a fellow, if he dared, would strike
his wife, or slap her face, if she only acted
a little perversely, just as he had acted,
perhaps, only the moment before ; but the
scourging I speak of, is with the eye; aye,
you may stare, but it is the Married
.Man's Rye. Come, let us go to the
village ; I owe everybody a visit, pardon
, larly Ormsby, who has just married my
little pet.' Every
,young woman, by the
way, wati uncle Andover's pet. ' I cannot
tell in which way she offends his married
eye, but I will warrant that he has begun
his scourging already. There is your aunt
Phillida ; she sees this matter as I do,
and that has kept her from marrying.—
Before we settled in Camperdown, she
had plenty of offers, for rich women are
scarce. The old Mr. Root offered his hand
to her full thirty years ago.'
Look over the way, uncle; there stands
the little red-haired Davison, the meanest
looking man I ever saw. Is it true that
he made an attempt to address my siser
Fanny, while I was in Europe?'
Yes, he made a desperate attempt,
but he was repulsed with scorn. Do not
speak of it before your aunt, for it puts
her in a passion. I only wish we could
keep him from coming so often to Camper
down, for he is hateful to me, as well as
to her; and Mrs. Campbell—that is, our
Jenny Hart that was—has set her face
against him, and that has decided his fate
here.'
What ! is Mrs. Catipbell the Jenny
Ilan of the thread and needle store ? she
whom all the young men used to gaze at
so ? the one that every one was in love
with
Yes, and I will take you there to-mor
row. She is on a visit to New York to
day. Your aunt told her about Davison ;
and so, as I said, having set her face
against him, he will not find it very con
venient to settle in our neighborhood.—
Let him remain at Starkford.'
c Why, uncle, 1 never knew you so bit
ter toward any one before. What has he
done to merit all this ?'
Wail, Leo, we talked of scourging, of
married men scourging their wives with
the eye but this man for one that calls
himself a man, is more brutal than a sav
age. Just look at him ; a little paltry
fellow, not bigger than my thumb ; with
red hair, freckled face, a nose that you
can hardly see, deep-set little red eyes, an
ear like a long oyster, and a neck like a
crane. There he goes ; and he has a
laugh and a joke with every one he meets.
There comes our good Mr. Foster the en
gineer. Ab, Alfred Gray does not stop;
he touches his hat and walks on. It has
cowed Davison for a second ; but there
comes Job Martine the tax-gatherer : now
Davison has said a good thing, and they
are laughing at it. There comes our good
Mr. Parcells, see how Davison's hat goes
off to him ; there was a bow for you!'
Who is this Mr. Parcells, uncle ! I do
not recollect ever hearing the name be
fore.'
He is a retired merchant, and has
bought an estate at Wicklowe, in the next
village. He is very rich, and little Davi
son fawns and cringes before him like a
spaniel. I see it all now ; there is an
only daughter there, too. Miss Parcells is
not what I call an ugly woman, but if it
wore not for her immense expectations,
ugly as Davison is himself, he would look
for more beauty. The fellow has been
twice married. Yes, there he goes ; he
has left the others, and has walked off
with good-natured Jemmy Parcells.'
But, supposing that Miss Parcells is
ugly ? Surely this man can have no pre
t nsions to her hand ; and he is upward of
forty by his looks.'
4 There is nothing better or worse to be
;..aid of him than that he scourged his
wife to death. He married an only child ;
I speak of his - fir t wife, for the second
one, poor thing !—Do, lucky creature ! died
of pleurisy before he bad time to com
mence operations. His first wife was a
young lady of good birth, and, as was sup
posed at the time, of good fortune. She
was an intimate school friend of your aunt
Phillida, but their intercourse was inter
rupted after the marriage. Mr. Dell, the
father of Christiana, was reputed to be
rich, and Davison so ingratiated himstlf
with him, that, being a hypochondriac, and
not a good business man, the fellow soon
became his factotetn. Every thing fell
into his hands ; and the short of it is, that
he determined to have Mr. Dell's money,
and his daughter in the bargain, since he
could not get one without the other.'
Ah, uncle, I recollect now ; did I not
see a Mrs. Davison with aunt Phillida, at
the springs the summer before I went
abroad V
Yes, about four years ago, just before
she died ; and it was there that I saw how
the wretch treated her, and yet no one else
perceived it but your aunt and myself.—
Very few look deeply into such matters.—
Christiana was compelled into the marriage,
but your aunt thinks that if all the prop
erty had been settled on her, Davison
would have treated her differently. I doubt
it.'
It is scarcely possible to tell you in
what his deviltries consisted ; but they
were of such a nature, that in ten years—
it was a slow poison, that eye of his—he
fairly worked this gentle creature out of
existence. I only wish you dared ask
your aunt all about it, for women under
stand this misery better than men ; but it
almost sets her raving. Our principal
reason for quitting Starkford, was because
he had bought an estate there. Before he
married poor Christiana Dell, be was the
most devoted, the most obsequious, the
most tender of lovers. He had to work
hard to get the innocent young weature,
for her dislike to him at first amounted al
most to aversion. He consulted her taste
iti everthiug, and seemed to have Or will
but hers.'
'Well, Leo, only look at a man one year
after marriage, nay, one month, for he be
gan immediately. He could not bear to
hear her laugh ; he could not bear to see
her pleased with any one's conversation ;
he sneered at her whenever she opened
her lips—unobserved, mind, by others:—
By his hard manner, he drove off all of her
early associates, those who loved her dear
ly, and could have comforted her. His
eyes—that little red eye of his—was kept
on her whenever she opened her lips to
speak, or give an opinion; and it had the
power of a serpent over her. There is no
thraldom, Leo, like the thraldom of a mar
ried man's eye. He expected impossibili
ties, from her; for her eonstitution was
“IX'HAT COUNTRY IS THE MOST PROSPEROUS WHERE LABOR OOMMANDS THE GREATEST BEWARD."-BUOHANAN
LANCASTER CITY, PA., TUESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 24, 1858.
very delicate, and when she did the utmost
that her feeble strong h allowed, he sneer
ed at her. At table, he never helped her
to anything he thought she liked. She
could not bear rare meat, neither could he;
yet I am told that in his own house he
would not allow the cook to send the meat
up well done, lest his wife might perchance
get a piece she liked. He actually pun
ished himself, that he might scourge the
nnoffending wife. If, in the most humble
way, when she thought he was particularly
good-humored, she asked him for a shoe
not quite so rare, he would say some brutal
or unfeeling thing to her, for which the
very negro in waiting would like to kick
him. If he designed to out her another
piece, it was cut from a burnt, hard part,
equally unpalatable. She never ate a
mouthful at that wretch's table without
insult or taunt.
It was fortunate that this poor young
creature had no children; for his nature
was such that I verily believe he would
have tormented them, for the pleasure of
tormenting his wife. When she found
that all happiness wasdenied her iu this
world, she turned her attention to another
and a better. There she found peace and
love—a love tender and enduring. She
fell sick, at length, and then you should
have seen the hypocrite. Oh, how he
would run for the leecher and bleeder—for
the doctor and the clergyman ! You would
have thought him one of the most devoted
and tender of husbands. Almost every
one, save the servants and your aunt
Phillida, were deceived. Even the Doc
tor called him a pattern-husband.
How he must have shrunk from the
touch of the good clergyman, on the day
after the funeral ! The reverend man
dearly loved this pure and gentle wife, and
it went hard with him to part with her ;
but with all the confidence she reposed in
him, she never breathed a syllable of her
husband's undeviating petty tyranny.—
Rest, therefore, in peace, my sou,' said
he, as he rose to leave the room, placing
his hand on the cruel husband's head, as
she for whom we mourn is now an angel
in 1-leaven. You tenderly loved her ; you
sustained her in sickness and sorrow, and
you comforted her in her last dying mo
ments. Your conscience must acquit you
of the slightest intentional unkindness, for
you were all that a tender, considerate
husband should be. Grieve not, therefore,
like one without hope ; but let us imitate
the purity and integrity of her life, so that
in the end your spirit may again be united
to hers.
Would you believe it, leo ! the hypo
crite told all this to one of his friends !
There he comes again. Only hear that
laugh ! just so he roared and ide fun,'
when he was breaking his wife's heart at
home. Jokes ! No one could have a din
ner or a supper party without him. He
afterwards married Lavinia Marks, on the
strength of his goodness to his wife ; and
I have no doubt the same thing will ope
rate on the mind of Miss Percells and her
father. Poor Christiana Dell ! But she
is far happier where she is now, than she
could be, even if Davidson was not a brute.
But come, let us sally out ; it is visiting
time, and we owe a great many visits. So,
here we are ; this is Ormsby's house.—
Now, Leo, look out for the married man's
eye.'
The newly married couple were sitting
together very lovingly, and everything
around them was bride-like and comforta
ble. They jumped up quickly to welcome
us, for my uncle, as 1 said, was a general
favorite. Ile praised everything over and
over again, even the ugly clock on the
mantle piece had his kind notice.
Yes, I knew you would like it,' said the
lively little lady, but James does not
think it suitable for this small room. It
is rather large, to be sure ; but then
bronze is so much more fashionable than
gold. lam sorry now, since he dislikes it
so much, that I did not take the gilt one ;
but, Mr. Andover, how could I tell, then,
that he preferred the gilt one Then,
he thought as I thought, and as I uniform
ly preferred the bronze clock, why he was
only too happy to approve—were you not
James ? I never heard, then, of his dis
like to this poor clock ; but a month after
marriage makes a great difference, you
know, Mr. Andover.
While she was laughing out gaily, in
the pride and joy of a young bride's heart,
Ormsby was trying to catch her eye. I saw
that her prattle disconcerted him, and he
wanted to stop her but she ran on, and
my uncle listened with as much glee and
innocence as herself. Ormsby walked
across the room, so as to get in front of
her, uuder, pretence of pushing thq m plock
straight.
I believe James is satisfied with all my
purchases,' said she, 'but the foolish clock;
and if I could, I would change it for the
gold one. Why, only a little while before
you came in—'
Her husband caught her eye this time,
and her looks quelled her—for her laugh
and joyousness were at an end. She was
puzzled to know why her her little non
sense was taken amiss now, when it was
always pleasantly listened to before her
marriage. This was. evidently Uhe first
stroke of the married man's eye. It em
barrassed her ; she cast a timid lance at
her husband and was silent.
Did you see that fellow's eye 'lt' asked
my uncle, when on our way to the next
house. Now the poor child said nothing
amiss ; she was only a little birdish.—
Ormsby did not like the exposure. It
showed he had struck the false colors of
courtship, and had nailed up the red, stern
flag to the mast-head. Men are all alike,
Leo.'
Our next visit was to Mr. Emerson, the
chemist. He lived in the greatest harmony
with his wife ; they had been married sev
en years and had several fine children.—
The very moment we entered the house,
he cast a fierce look at his better half.—
.Myjear Jane,' said he with a look and
tone chat adly accorded with the tender
epithet, why do you shut out Mr. Ando
ver's dog ? Do open the door and let him
come,irr-,,Pray excuse her,' continued he,
casting as the marriage glance, and
looking mostkiey on us ; she has such
an aversion, tidy, such a foolish fear of
them, that my poor Romeo has but a sorry
time of it, for when my back is turned, he
is banished to the kitchen.'
Then why,' said thy uncle mildly, 'why
do you keep a dog, if Mrs Emerson is
afraid of them. lam very fond of oats,
and I should have two or three Maltese
and Angolas, if Phillida were not averse
to it. She dislikes oats as much as your
wife fears dogs, and in consequence, I have
baniehed them. Lao, my, son, step out
and drive Brans away from the door ; he
is scratching at it, and Mrs. Emerson must
not be kept uneasy.' Emerson here cast
another look.'
What,' thought I, do all men ohange
in this way after marriage My uncle,
as if divining my thoughts, nodded his
head, but I shook' mine. Never, Flora,
shall this eye of mine look otherwise than
tenderly on thee 1'
Did you see Emerson's eye ?' said my
uncle, when fairly on the pavement ; and
yet he is a clever fellow. How well he
talks, and how kind and considerate he is
to everybody, poor and all. He is really
a good man, and we could not get on well
without him ; and I have no doubt dust he
is, in the main, an indulgent husband.—
Now he might as well give no his fancy
for dogs, seeing that his wife dislikes them.
I cannot for my life conceive why he per
sists in it. Leo, it gives a woman a very
bad opinion of our sex, when she finds how
different a lover and a husband are. I re
member the time when this very man, that
lords it so with his eye, used to leave his
dog at home when he went to Brighton to
visit his sweetheart. He was tender
enough of her feelings, then. He gave up
smoking, too, knowing that she disliked
the smell of Tobacco smoke, yet the cigar
is hardly ever out of his mouth now. Did
you see what a sarcastic look he put on,
when I said that I gave up the cats to
please your aunt ? The expression amount
ed to this : Yes, bachelor Andover, but
there is all the difference in the world be
tween giving up your whims to please your
sister, and renouncing them to please your
wife. If Phillida had been your wife, in
stead of your sister, the cats would have
been paramount.' And, indeed, my dear
nephew, I am afraid this would be the
case. It is this fear which has kept me an
old bachelor.'
Our next visit was to Mr. Renshaw, a
retired merchant. He had an excellent
wife, and lovely children, all of whom were
in good health, and well managed. He
was so cheerful, and she seemed so muoh
at her ease, that I cast my eye toward my
uncle : but he 'shook his head. Wait
awhile !' said he, in an undertone.
How finely the children grow !' said he
to Mr. Renshaw. ' Let me see, your eld
est must be twelve years old, now ?'
c I really do not know,' was the answer.
cMy dear, how old did you say Augustus
was 1 You told me this morning, but I
really have forgotten already.'
But if it had been an animal,' said his
wife laughingly, , you would not have for
gotten. You always remember the age of
your horse and your—' her husband gave
her a look.
We saw several glances of the married
man's eye, for the first did not seem to
quell her sufficiently ; yet she said nothing
to deserve them. A woman,' said my
uncle, as we passed on to the next house,
' never knows when she may banter or trifle.
Sometimes her husband is in an easy mood,
and then he will fall into the nonsense of
the conversation ; for, after all, it is noth
ing but nonsense that one talks, in these
morning visits. Here lives our good Dr.
Fielding : let us stop here'
Doctor,' said Mrs. Fielding, after we
had chatted a little while, show Mr. An
dover little Mat's head, and see whether
he pronounces the lump a wen or a bruise.'
Ah, such a look as she got ! It stopped
her short at once. The doctor had no
desire that his old friend should suppose
him so ignorant in so simple a matter as
wen or no wen.
g I have no doubt,' said Andover, when
we left the house, that the doctor was
wondering and wondering about this wen,
just for talk's sake, bfeore we went in ; and
so his wife, feeling anxions, and for the
want of something better to say, blundered
on the wen. Are you satisfied now, Leo
asked the good old bachelor.
Everything that wealth and taste could
combine, was centered in and around the
house of Mr. Frazer, a manufacturer in
large business, and of Igreat popularity.—
He was still in the prime of life, although
he had a danghter married, whose first
baby was now on its first visit to his house.
Nothing, of course, was too good for the
child and its mother, and Mrs. Renshaw
revelled in unalloyed happiness. We
admired and wondered at the child's pre
cocity and beauty, till even the mother
was satisfied, and we were wondering what
we should say next, when Mr. Frazer came
in from his office.
After hearing all our praises over again,
and getting our opinion of his daughter's
looks, he cast a cross glance at his wife,
and said, My dear, I came near breaking
my neck over the child's . wagon in the
entry ; how could you let it stand there
Oh, father,' said the daughter, it was my
fault , it was I that left it there.' His face
cleared up in an instant ; for as my uncle
afterward observed, it makes a vast differ
ence whether the injury, or opposition, or
vexation, comes from a wife or daughter.—
But with this branch of the question I
have nothing to do at present. lam now
only speaking of the married man's eye.
The next visit was to Mr. Graylove, the
clergyman. I thought his wife could not
be afraid of dogs, for there were no less
than four lying about. Over one of them
my uncle stumbled, as he entered the par
lor : but instead of apologising to him, Mr.
Graylove cast a reproachful look at his poor
wife.
I told Mrs. Graylove,' said he, with an
other glance, that if she persisted in dri
ving old Carol from the hearth-rug, he
would take to the door-rug; and now she
sees I was right.'
Oh, never mind,' said my uncle, , mildly;
no harm is done : only that Carlo has
chosn a very inconvenient plane •of rest;
for be must be continually disturbed by
the opening and shutting of the door.'
Yes, but the door opens outward, as
you see,' said Mrs. Graylove ; 4 and peo
ple generally see him and step over him, if
he is too lazy to get up, as he was to-day.
If I had my way, dogs should never come
in the parlor: they are a perfect nuisance,
and I tell Mr. Graylove—'
The eye quelled her. What !' said I,
is it always thus? is the married eye
always ready to reproach I'
Our last visit was to a very aged couple,
Timothy Winter, and his wife. He was
an old country gentleman, of eighty-six,
affluent and respectable. On this day,
there were thirty-six children, grand-chil
dren, and two little twin boys, his great
great grand-children. It was their aged
relative's bright day. Surely,' thought
I,' this man has scourged his time.' Look
out for his eye !' said uncle Andover.
All seemed to hover about the old man,
and I kept wondering why the same fuss
was not kept up with the old lady, too.—
Very little notice was taken of her. There
she eat, in a corner by herself, smiling and
nodding, and looking so happy—poor old
thing !—but to my eyes, she did not seem
to belong to the people around her. She
was a delicate, lady like looking woman,With
a mild expression, and of quiet manners ;
while the brood were needy, oare-worn,
sinister-looking people ; rough and unedu
cated. Even the father, although of coarse
exterior, had a cast of superiority. We
often see this in families, and there is no
accounting for it.
The only one that at all resembled the
old lady, was the mother of the little twin
boys, who died of a broken heart, from ill
usage. Her husband was a brute, and
broke his neck in a horse race, just one
month after his wife's death. The children
were taken home to their paternal grand-' .
mother, and this, as I have said, was their
first visit. With that placid smile on her
face, old Mrs. Winter was the only one in
the group who felt a pang at the loss of the
children's mother ; and yet, living at a
great distance from her, she had never been
seen by the aged people.
No one, as I observed, paid much atten
tion to old Mrs. Winter; yet what had she
not endured for them all ! In some shape
or other, her assistance, her feelings, were
in constant requisition. To every one of
the ungainly-looking people, she had more
than acted a mother's part ; and yet they
showed more respect to old Timothy, who
had never voluntarily, my uncle said, done
them one kind act. Young as I was, I had
seen this before, in several families. The
descendants make a t reater ado with the
old grandfather.
Stand aside, Sally dear,' said the aged
woman, and let me have another look at
the dear little boys. Alas for their poor
dear mother ! What are their names, did
you say ? Henry and George ? Well,
they are very pretty names, but I wonder_
that one of them was not called Timothy.'
Old Timothy had some such feeling in
his own mind, for most old people have
this passion of wishing their name to de , -
scend to their grand-children, let the name
be ever so ugly. But if it was a mark of
respect to give the child his name, so it
was a mark of disrespect, or indifference,
to neglect doing it. To make this neglect
apparent to others, was offensive to old
Timothy ; so he cast his eye wrathfully
toward his wife : Nonsense !' said this
old man of eighty-six. He meant that
this look from his eye should have reached
her, but it fell on my uncle. Timothy was
almost blind, yet he did his best.
4 And yet,' said uncle Andover, after we
left the house, the old man was always
thought to be a kind husband.
But why," said I, sorely puzzled, why
is it that all hover around the old man ?
have observed it to be the case every
where.'
6 Why V said he ; why because men, to
the last, hold the purse-strings, my son ;
and because all their children, grand, great
grand, and great-great-grand children,
down to such . little ones as the twins we
have just left, have seen the man's eye
quell their mother—the mother of all ; she
that suffered for them, that nursed them
through many a desperate illness ; she that
has toiled for them up to her eightieth
year, and has forever interceded for them,
when the old man was churlish. The work
ings of that old man's eye—of every man's
eye—has made her and all old women
what they are, poor despised creatures ; so
that to be called an old woman,' is the
most degrading epithet that can be applied.
But their time is coming ; their day is
opening, Leo and those little twin broth
ers will not say Nonsense !' and cast a
fierce glance at their wives, when they,
tenderhearted to the last, are anxious that
their husband's name should be kept green
and fresh in the minds of their descendants.
Yes, my son, the moment a man marries,
his eye begins to scourge his wife ; but
many are now beginning to ask why this
must be.'
c To be sure, my dear uncle,' said I, ' a
man must often say and do foolish things,
and often act contrary to his wife's judg
ment. He must, therefore, be as liable to
the fierce glance of.the eye, as she is. The
only wonderful thing about it is, that any
men who tenderly loves his wife, can let
his eye fall on her as if she were his enemy.'
g No, Flora,' said I, never shall this eye
reprove thine!' Uncle Andover looked
up and smiled.
At the head of the broad street, we stop
ped to buy an orange of old Mrs. Tray.—
She was waiting for us, and keeping herself
in eight, that she might say a few words to
good bachelor Andover, a name by which
he always went, and to which he always
answered as readily and as innocently as
when he was called Leonardus, which was
his name. Mrs. Tray was not so anxious
that we should buy her fruit, as to hear my
uncle say a few pleasant words to her, and
to chat over the news of the day. Her
husband sat on the steps, smoking his pipe.
He was a poor, sorry, do-little fellow, blind
of one eye, and did scarcely any thing
toward supporting the household.
Good-morning, Mrs. Tray ! How are
you and how do you like the railroad ?
They paid you well for cutting through
your garden, didn't they V
Why, yes, thanks to you, bachelor An
dover. I remember that, full forty years
ago, you told me, then a young girl, and
you but a few years older, that—But may
be you are one of those who do not like to
speak of their age ; not that you are so
very old a bachelor Andover.'
I am turned of sixty, Mrs. Tray ; so do
not fear that you will hurt my feelings, by
classing me among the old. How curious
it is, Leo, that pople have an aversion to
be thought old, as if age were disgraceful.
Your good husband is looking well, too,
Mrs. Tray. He smokes still, I see."
Yes, Peter is quite well, at present ;
but I was telling him, as you came along
this way, that he had better come in doors
and smoke, as sitting in the sun, with his
head leaning against the cold brick wall,
would bring on his old headache."
A fierce look from the old brute stopped
her once. He scourged her with the only
eye he had.
We both laughed heartily, when out of
hearing.
g You see,' said my uncle, that it runs
through all ranks and degrees; and if every
ona would keep a look out, as you and I
have done to-day, the married man's eye
would be seen in every house. It is so
common a thing, that it is never noticed.
It is looked upon as part of the marriage
ceremony, or rather as having been engraft
ed upon a man in consequence of the
ceremony."
Yes, I shall now be forever watching
the married man's eye; but just for fun's
sake, if yon are not tired, let us go down
into this oyster-cellar, and see what kind
of eye old Cato has. I hear the pan going;
his wife is frying oysters."
His eye will work, too, depend upon
it!" said my uncle, with a smile ; he will
quell her—he will quell her!'
But no such thing. To our amazement,
his eye never shot an angry glance at the
poor heated, tired woman, doing her best,
as nine wives out of ten always do. My
dear uncle was quite put out' about it,
for he was loath to admit that the rule did
not hold good with all men. We stayed
half an hour, seated on a clean bench near
the door-way, chatting with the old man
and woman, who in the time, dispensed
two panfuls of oysters, nicely fried, to
their customers.
My uncle, as I thought, made several
efforts to provoke a shot from the eye of
old Cato ; I suspected he was playing false;
but ho denied it, though he said if the
glance could be obtained, it would not
signify whether it was provoked or whether
it came naturally. It was the proneness
to make use of the eye—the authority of
the married man's eye—that he rebelled
against.
But no unlucky word or deed from old
Dinah had any effeot upon her husband's
dim, blearded eyes. My uncle now set
in to talk," first to Cato and then to Dinah,
who was now preparing a third paa of
oysters.
I will show you Cato's eye yet !' said
my uncle.
I doubt it,' I replied.
How many children have you, Cato 'I I
used to see four or five playing about you,
a year or two ago, and now I only see the
little girl who carried out the oysters."
We have nine, =salt Andover, and all
doing pretty well, ceptin' Clarissy, who
lost her good husband, poor ting ! So I
told my Dinah to let her and de children
come home. Dat little girl is her oldest
girl.'
This comes very hard upon you, Cato.
I must tell my sister to look into it.'
Tanky, massa, tanky ; but it is not for
me to complain ; only Dinah, my poor
woman, I tell her she will cry her eyes out.
I have nothin' to do but to sit still half de
time and open oysters ; but tank God we
have a great run, massa ; and Dinah,
nobody can please de customer so well as
she, massa., Den when I have taken out
de shells, I does nothing' but go about and
'muse myself in de garden, or leau over de
wagons, and get tinge cheap. Bit it comes
very hard upon my poor woman dere ;' and
Cato cast a tender, humane glance at his
wife, she having ju,t, finished her oysters,
was turning them into a plate.
My uncle looked at me from the corner
of his eye, to see if I had observed the old
man's.
I saw it,' said I, it was a glance
worth a guinea.'
In a moment Dinah stood before us with
a tray, on which were two plates, each
containing six of the largest oysters I ever
saw. A little table was placed between
us, on which were a snow-white cloth,
bread, pickles, mustard, pepper and salt.
She turned aside to look at Cato ; but
oh, what a delighted eye the affectionate
husband cast on her ! He fairly rubbed
his hand with joy at this mark of attention
to us.
Dat's it, Dinah, dat's it ; now why
didn't I tink of die, too 1 But she is
always before-hand wid me, massa bachelor
Andover. I tink women are always 'outer
clan men in such tinge ; but when it comes
to open oysters den we beat 'em ! Yah !
yah !'
4 Oh, never mind it, Dinah, woman,'
said he, when the poor soul, in her haste to
hand my uncle a glass of water, knocked
over the mustard-cup, the contents of
which ran on his boots ; never mind it,
old woman ; massa don't mire, for I can
soon polish him up again, and I'll buy you
another mustard-cup.'
Here is a dollar toward it,' said my
uncle.
' And here are two,' said I, ' for not
casting an angry look at your wife, when
she knocked the cup over.'
He look mad at me !' said honest Dinah.
Lacky, !—why, young massa, Cato never
looked mad at me once in his life, as I can
recomember.'
Well, who would have thought it ?'
said my uncle, as we left the cellar. I
must own that I tried hard, at the first
going off, to provoke his eye to do its
accustomed duty. But look--look there!'
Little Davison came smirking along,
with Miss Parcelis hanging on his arm;
when just as he approached us, her bonnet
caught in the straggling branch of a wild
plum tree, which stood in a little group of
trees near the edge of the commons. The
ribbon gave way, and the bo .net was
jerked from her head. Oh, how assiduous
the fellow was, in extricating it from the
branch'! How devotedly he pinned the
ribbon fast, and how tenderly he tied the
bonnet on again! Then he laughed so
good humoredly at the joke, and at her
embarrassment, and he drew her arm in his
so gently, as they moved away !
He is engaged to her—he has her !'
said my uncle ; but remember this scene,
Leo, and mark his behavior a twelvemonth
hence. Here comes our little beauty.'
It was indeed my dear Flora, blooming,
with goodness,
health, and loveliness. I
forgot little Davison—l forgot the whole
world—as I sprang to her side.
She is beautiful and happy,' said uncle
Andover, as I told him of my engagement,
which I did as soon as we left the dear
girl at the Oak Valley ; but put off your
marriage as long as you can. Ah ! if you
had told me of your love for her, I should
have tried to persuade you to let her alone.
She is too good, too innocent, for the mar
riage eye.' What !do you think that my
eye will ever try to quell that bright,
beaming glance of hers ?' _ _
Yes, Leo, that it will. OH Cato has
the only eye that does not carry a savage
authority in it !'
Well, the short of the story is, that,
after a little coaxing, my dear aunt and
uncle consented to our marriage ; and it
so happened that a few months after, as I
was walking one fine afternoon with my
lovely companion on my arm, and my
uncle at her side—for he became very
fond of her—we saw Davison and his wife,
late Miss Parcells, in the very walk where
we had encountered them before. Instead
of her bonnet it was his hat that was knock
ed off by the branch, I dare say the same
branch, of the wild plum. But the tone
was altered now.
4 You would some this way,' said he,
looking fiercely at his wife, as he replaced
his hat on his head ; you are always doing
something or other to make me look ridic
ulous. Your .own foolish hat was dragged
from your own foolish head in this very
spot.'
€Do you hear 1 , said my uncle.
c I do,' said I.
' Did you see that look he gave her.'
c To be sure I did ; and how meekly she
bore it.'
c Flora, my love, how you swing about?'
said I, not thinking that it was my atten
tion to Davison's manoeuvres that prevent
ed her from keeping the path. c Don't
gaze on those people so,' said I, casting
the married eye on poor Flora, who was
only following my example. My uncle
was a little in advance of us and turned
his head in time to catch the look.
Leo, write this all down,' said bachelor
Andover, for the good of the female sex.'
I will,' said I, looking abashed ; ' Flora,
dearest ! forgive me !'
I' Daniel Webster's father made a
cradle for little Dan out of a pine log, with
his axe and auger ; and Lewis Cass was
rocked by his staid mother in a second
hand sugar trough.
A gentleman in New Orleans was
agreeably surprised, the other day, to find
a plump turkey served up for his dinner,
and inquired of his servant how it was ob
tained. Why, ea,' replied Blaoky, ' dat
ar turkey is been roostin' on our fenoe tree
niter ; so die mornin' I seize him for de
rent ob de fence.'
l A contemporary says, There is a
man up in our country who always pays for
his paper in advance. He has never been
sick a day in his life—never had any corns
or the toothache—his potatoes never rot:—
the weevil never eats his wheat—the frost
never kills his corn or beans--his babies
never cry in the night, and his wife never
scolds !' Ahem!
DERIVATION OF HONEYMOON.—It was
the custom of a higher order of Teutones,
a people who inhabited the northern part
of Europe, to drink mead, or motheglin, a
beverage made with honey, for thirty days
after every wedding. From this custom
comes the expression, to spend the honey-
[]'Does your arm pain you much, sir?'
asked a young lady of a gentleman who
had seated himself near her in a mixed as
sembly, and thrown his arm across the bank
of her chair, and slightly touched her
neck.
, No, miss, it does not, but why do you
ask
noticed it was considerably out of
place, sir,' replied she, that's all.' The
arm was removed.
Crr' The passion which Sophooles enter
tained for the drama often displayed itself,
superior to every feeling of personal in
terest or vanity. lie appeared once on the
stage in the character of not a word to
utter, but only to play at ball ; in order
that, by his peculiar skill in the art, he
might give the last finishing grace to the
representation of the tragedy.
CARDS.
DE MOVA L.—WILLIAM S. AMWEG,
it Att.-us). nt Low, has removed his office from his
former place Into South Duke street, nearly opposite the
Trinity Lutheran Church. spr 8 tf 12
H. REYNOLDS, Attorney at
1. - 3 Law. Utiles, No. 14 North Duke street, opposite the
Court House. may 5 tf 16
W T. ItIePHAIL,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
mar 31 ly II STRASBURG, Lancaster Co., Pa.
ALEES J. NEFF, Attorney at Law.--
OM. with B. A. Sheller, Esq., south-west corner of
Centre Square, Lanmxter. may 15, '55 ly 17
T R. JOHN MI'CALLA, DENTIST .-- Office
Nu. 4 East King street, Lancaster, N. apr 18 o'l3
XTEWTON LIGHTNER, ATTORNE Y
11 AT LAW, has We Office in North Duke ntreet, nearly
opposite the Court House.
Loncaster. apr 1 tfll
I)EMOVAL...—WILLIAM B. FORDNEY,
11, Attorney at Law, has removed his Mlle° from North
Queen street to the building In the south-east corner of
Centre Square, formerly known as Hubley's Hotel.
Lancaster, april 10
SIMON P. EBY
ATTORNEY AT LAW
OFFICE:—No. 38 North Duke street,
I➢Ry 11 ly 17) LANCASTZR, PENNA
F REDERICK
ATTORNEYS EARI?
LAW.
OFFICE.—No. I 1 No,ll DIRK STREET, WEST SIDE, LAN
CARTER, Pa. npr 20 1( 14
JESSE LANDIS, Attorney at Law.--Of—
fice one dour east of Lechler's Hotel, East King street,
Lancaster, Pa.
All kinds of Scriveniug—such as writing Wills,
Deeds, Mortgages, Accounts, will be attended to with
correctness and despatch. may 15, '55 tf-17
J AMES BLACK, Attorney at
lice in East Kiug street, two doors east of Lechler's
Hotel, Lancaster, Pa.
Atir All business connected with his profession, and
all kinds of writing, such as preparing Deeds, 51ortgages,
Wills, Stating Accounts. &c., promptly attended to.
may 15. tf•l7
JOHN F. BRINTON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
PHILADELPHIA, PA.,
Ham removed him office to hie remittance, No. 24g South 6th
Street, above Spruce.
Refers by parrniasion to
lion. 11. 0. Loxo,
" A. L. lIATzs,
44 FERMIS BRINTON,
" THADDEUS STEVENS
uov 24 1y i 45
E DWARD DUGOVERN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
No. 6 NORTH PURE STREET—NEAR THE COURT HOUBE,
LANCASTER, PA.
WILLIAM WHITESIDE, SURGEON
DENTIST.-office In North Queen street. directly
over Long's Drug Store.
Lancaster, may 27, 1856
REMOVAL. --DR. J. T. BAKER, HOLM,
tEPATEIIC PHYSICIAN, has removed his Wilco to
Lime street, between Orange and East King streets, west
side.
Reference—Professor W. A. Gardner, Philadelphia.
Calls f,om the country will be promptly attended to.
apr B tf 12
PE TER D. MYERS,
REAL ESTATE AGENT,
PIIMADELPHIA,
will Attend to the Renting of Houses, Collecting House
and Ground Rents, &c. Agencies entrusted to his care
will be thankfully received; and carefully attended to.—
Satisfactory reference given. Office N. E. corner of
SEVENTH and SANSOII streets, Second Floor, No. 10.
feb 17 1y 5
n RUG AND CHEMICAL STORE.
II The subscriber having removed his store to the new
building nearly opposite his old stand, and directly opposie
the Cross Keys Hotel, has now on hand a well selected
stock of articles belonging to the Drug business, consisting
to part of Oils, Arida, Spices, Seed., Alcohol, Powdered
Articles, Sarsaparillas, Ac. /cc., to which the attention of
country merchants, physicians end consumers in general
Is invited. THOMAS ELLMAKER.
feb 9 tf 4 West King street, Lane's.
•
TO FARMERS...Raving been appoint.
vi by Messrs. Allen & Needles agents in Lancaster for
the sale of their celebrated
SOPER PHOSPHATE OF LIME,
we would call the attention of Farmers to this Fertilizer, It
being superior to all others; and from the testimony of
those who have used it for sem° years past, we feel author,
ized is saying it is the best application for Corn, Oats-
Wheat, Grass and other crops which require a vigorous
and permanent stimulant, that has ever been offered to
the public. Apply to EO. CALDER & CO.,
East Orange street, 2d door from North Queen at., and at:
Graefrs Landing on the Conestoga.
TT 0 NIGM ACHER tle BAUMAN, TAN-
Imre and Curriers Store, back of Robt. ModerwelPs
Commission Warehouse, fronting on the Railroad and
North Prince street. Cheap for Cash or approved oredit.—
Constantly on hand a full aesortxaent of all kinds Saddler's
and Shoemaker's Leather,
of superior quality, Including
" Rouser's celebrated Sole Leather - V. also, Leather Bands,
well stretched, suitable for all kin& of machinery, of any
length and width required, made of a superior quality M
Leather, Furnace Bellows, Band and Lacing Leather, Gar
den Hose, Tanner's Oil, Currier's Tools, Morocco', Shoe
Findings, &c .
All kinds old Leather bought in the rough; highest Prim
given for Hidea and Skins in crib; orders will
rob be prompt.'
ly attended to. 6 ly 6
NO 32.