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TERMS,. sgee.srepaidilligellitat tbitptfolitet-the• r. Anutiiiiertbestoente,i, mak ezoeeditik...gne: 14 1 :WA 2.. 1 .4400...WA. bet Itugesteitithreer_taur doll', egits..lbr eel* adOtioual baser ; •. . Jefr faiaetic -Bisteke;.Lab.di,4o4ll4; eireeatedwlthitcegnksy lottipm shortest notice. • ,-" ' ' A SONG FOR, THE ' BY wuXixit B: sties: Axes to.grind: . Axes to grind.: • Thiok &cleaves on the autumn. wind, Are xm3hing.“patriots7 with axes to-grind t - • The Cioths.from the North, and.the Vandals, too, • . And Southern petriota 'mot slew: • From the-Zest, where she fisherman braves theitidw.. - FromAtke West, wherelhe preitieserikrish and wide, Come hungry statesman and starringhind, . Swelling the chorus, Azis to grind .r Alit* to grind t Axes to grind: ; '. On every side the biiithen , Men whose lochs are heary ind . thln— Men whose hearts are Shrouded in ale.= Mena vrhoke services never were Men whose trumpets ay . :1 , 1911(11y 'brown— Med of 'wlsdcen and silly fools,- Mini who are leadets, and Dien - who are tools : Like ravenous Wolves with hunger Win& Are shouting the chorus, Axes to krind! Axes to grind! Axes to grind! - No hope for the laggard who falls behind ! Tumbling, scrambling, swearing, and all, For the dirty erumbet hat grudgingly fall From the Government table where "Old Abe" sits, Losing his patience, and losing his wits. - And slowly the-public stone goes round, Marking the time of the doleful-sohnd ; While its wasting fragments fly hero and there, And its withering sparks shed a-lurid-glare,— Wearing the life of a nation away, - - As the rushing stream wears the yielding clay. The glittering baits of the treasury gleam On the anxious, noisy, rushing stream, That comet, as the leaves on the autumn wind, Swelling the chorus, Axes to grind ! Axes to grind ! Axes to grind! The nation in this her dirge shall find! Wheriltome, in her - glory, forgot her truth, And a lust for-office' filled her yoiith— When her leaders hungered for every drib That could be filched from the '''priblle crib"— She tottered and fell in : sad decay, And her power forever passed away.! So will it be with oar own loved hand,, . In her history young—ln tier 'majesty grand ! Her virtue wasted—her honesty lied— Her patriots fallen—her glory dead: She'll fall is the leaves - in the autumn wind, Her requiem heard in Axes to grind ! THE MORNING LAND OF LIFE dwelkin a bright land far away— A beautiful morning land— Where the winds and wild birds sung all day, And the waves, repeating their roundelay, Danced over the golden sand. . . - I know the paths over its IoW, grean . hilLs, The banks where its Violets grow, The osier clumps by its laughinKrills, And the odor its every flower distils, Though I left it long ago. I, know where the sybil Summer weaves The charm of her sweetest spells; Where the soft south ;rind-and the low-voiced leaves Make a touching plant, like sprite that grieves - In the heart of a rose-lipped shell. I know the cliff where the lichen olings, And the crimson herries grow; Where the mists' are woven in rainbow rings, And the cascade leaps with its snowy wings To the shadowy pool below. But, alas! for me, its pleasant bowers, And the radiant bloom they wore, The birds that sung, and the sunny showers That kissed-the lips of the fair young flowers, Are never, never more! Ah, no ! the heart that has learned for years The love of sorrowand.pain ; The eyes bedimmed by!time and tears, The,lipe grown pale with unspoken fears, Can never return again. Yet, Eden home of the Eden time, '''When my:lonely heart rebels, Thy yokes podie through the rust and rime Of the weary World, like' the soothing chime Of distant Sunday bells. And when my path in the future seems With clouds and darkness rife, I wander away, in my waking dreams, To thy dewy-bowers and sunny streams, - Sweet Morning Land of Life. 'TIMOTHY POTTLFMOT. PARTS The last call now except on Timothy,' / said to myself as I pulled a bell an Lon don street, and began to square my neck tie till the servant sliould - open the door. I was setting out to Simla on a twelve month's visit to my brother, and Was finishing a round of farewell calls. The servant welcomed me with a smile, :and ushered 140 at enceinte the. back parfor, where Aunt Milts and my pretty cousins were gathered around the fire. So .a pliuie was made for me, and I drew in, and •we all chatted about the one absorbing subject. • Poor laddie !' said Aunt Mills, and you are really going away to India I' cNo doubt of that, aunt. But never mind I shall soon be back.? I hope you may; Dick-7hopo and trUst you may,' said Aunt Mills, shaking--her head, with a dismal end foreboding eipres, sion. '1 have known a great many-:go out to India who never came back again. The tigers are very dangerous—rattle snakes, too. They swarm in the beds, I'm told.' I promised to be , on my guard against those intruders, and aunt proceeded to de tail several encouraging oases of persons who had been pounced upon by hungry tigers and torn in small pieces. She specified, however, the case of a lady who had frightened a royal Bengal by hoisting an umbrella in his 'face—an expedient to which she strongly , urged me to resort in like circumstances. I promised to make a note of it, and, in the meantime, got my cousins to sit down to the piano. They sang 'Demo Sweet Rome,' and 4 Will You Not Come Back Again V and other ap propriate airs, very sweetly—especially Kate, who sings like a nightingale, if you know what that is, which I don't. But she sings sweetly, at all events; with such expression, too, as if her whole soul were in it. There was no light except the ruddy glow of the fire, and when it fell upon her shining curls and exquisitely chiseled features as she sat warbling, I thought that I. had never seen such a love ly girl before. Now, reader, don't fanoy I am going to fall in love with Kate—hot a bit of it. I loved her and I loved her sisters, just as I loved my own—nothing more. But I tell you that, as she. sat warbling there, Ii thought an angel could scarcely look more lovely. They wished Me to spend the evening with them, bat I could not; I had promised to take tea with my old schoolmate, Timo thy Pottledot, so i l rose to go. I proposed a parting kiss all round, and Aunt Mills of course submitted with parting dignity. The young ladies, on the contrary, were instantly in a flutter of consternation, and it was only after; a violent struggle with each that I succeeded. As for Kate, when her turn came she darted'out of the room , .up stairs. I pursued madly, four !Reps at a time. There was a great Alsol of darting to and fro, out of one. room into another, but at last beth tumbled promiseu %tidy into a corner, and I got one of .the moat-delicious kisses I ever had before or jisie r had sinoe...! The point heing i gaine4 ) itio - eimie:.donn stairs with me !pita st" iiiskreky, and then Aunt Mills and 'a Jou:J. 4 - , whole bevy of ootudne,,,gathered in the Vestibrde,to see 'me away. After a few words -of mutual encouragement, and s. warning, from Aunt Mills respecting the tigers, I 'stalled pat; ."on the way -to Timothy Pottledot's. It was a raw, gusty night, and I was ' glad enough when I turned into the . passage` leading to Tim's lodgings. It was a dark passage? and I had to grope my way along till I reached. the foot of the stairs. I felt my Keay-up a prodigiens length of stint' a very cautious ly, for I was in monientary dread of find ing myself launched down into - some un seen abyss. I had gone up what appeared to my excited imagination about a mile and half of stairs, when I reached the top landing and onocedded in finding the door. I felt for a knocker or a bell-handle but in vain, so I used my knuokles. kn ocked for some time without effect, but at laSt the door was opened by a woman, whose form was dimly visible in the light of an oil lamp in a remote kitchen. Is it the milk I' Etaid the woman, in a half whisper. I informed her that I was not the milk, but a friend of Mr. Pottle- . dot; is he in l' She said he was, and when I had stepped in she shut the door behind me, and after knocking at another door on the .opposite side of tie dark passage, opened it. 'and 'stowed me in. Tfu 6 thy witl 3 the dull lig,,ht-of a- tallow - candle; which N# 4B ;re r arealike a iiihthq* *l3. pile books. - He got: up.and rarigAny,,hama at. fee tionately, 'hut 0 -. .lipcierliiWt y . cle,';.L ly n ierir low sigrits. (lAA Wonder at , it the place was-too dismal for anything elSe. , It was soold;,ooliii4rtahle room with chilly draughts . blowing♦ about, and the - window:xxttled lOoki1);in itiframo. A few.black. aitiderii were carefully_ gathered into the centre of the grtte, - from the mid:, die of ,whiob L ardse a , slender ..thread: smoke-that wandered disconsolate up the afiipggey , Sit,dewn„isiid Tim; placing a chair for me close to the fender; yon dcrld,'. I sh - oalaiaiaginitliat, I did, for /fetilika an icicle ; so, to please Tim, I held my feet toward the grate, though I might as well have held them at the window. It isn't a very good fire,' said Tim, taking up the poker and looking dismally at the cinders ; I don't know what's wrong with it. It seems in a perpetual state of either death or resurrection. It was olearly in a state of death at that particular moment, and held out very little prospect of a speedy resurrection, although Tim (who fortunately did not use the poker, or he would, inevitably have ex tinguished it,) knelt down and blew at the cinders till they were colder than ever. g Never mind,' said Tim, rising, we'll have tea—that will be better. The bell was not in working order, so he went him self to order Mrs. Blobbs to bring in the tea. Mrs. Blobbs took so very long to execute this order that I just began to think she was not going to execute it at all, when she appeared with a small tray, furnished with a teapot, a plate of salt butter, two, slices of underdone toast, and four farthing biscuits, which Mrs. Blobbs had evidently been instructed to provide for the occasion. The tea proved to be lukewarm, and Tim to go in quest of Mrs. Blobbs for teaspoons and cream. He re turned with a couple of pewter teaspoons, but nothing in the shape of cream was to be had—the milk boy having neglected to bring any, and Mrs. Blobbs having no one in the house to send for it. So we sat down and drank the lukewarm tea, which bore in taste and color a remarkable resem blance to an infusion of senna. Tim had evidently intended to give us a comfortable tea, so he was sadly dispirited ; though I drank the tepid compound and chewed the underdone toast with as great an appear ance of relish as I oonld possibly assume. By the way,' said Tim, brightening up, do you like marmalade V I assured him there was nothing in the way of preserves that I relished nearly so much. I got a pot through from the old folks at home the other day,'. said Tim, open ing a sort of bunker that was under his window, and ranging about inside with his hand. The best I ever tasted, without exception. They said it was the nicest they had ever succeeded in making at home, and so they sent me through this pot to taste it. Now take plenty of it, Dick, it's good for one.' Tim laid down the pot beside me, and returned to close the bunker. I uncovered the pot and put in my teaspoon to take out some, but thought Tim's exhortations rather superflu ous, as there wis little more left than served to cover the bottom. I scraped out a small quantity'and tapped it upon the edge'of my plate. Oh, come, come,. Diok !' said Tim, that's nothing. Allow me.' He took up the spoon, but 'had 'no sooner looked into the pot than his face contracted into an expression of extreme indignation and die- , appointment. Hang that woman !' - he cried, striking the pot upon the table. It was half full yesterday, and I haven't.touched it since. This is too bad. 0, hang it, this is in tolerable !' Tim had bounced to the door and opened it. It's no use,' he said, slanniting it to again. It would just make her worse in other things. Confound her.' That woman,' he continued, glancing in the direction I suppose, of. the uncon scious Mrs. Blobbs. That• woman has no.more honesty about her than a—than a jackal. . She .charges me with mustard, though I never use it. She steahk.my tea and sugar.. She, drinks, my beer at the rate of two bottles to my one. Hang, it I won't Stand it. rknow What I will do." Tim glanced at the door to assure himself it was 'shut, and, after listening for a moment, bent toward me; and continued in a suppressed tone. Twill buys elk penny pot of jam and Fit some Croton oil into it. If that doesn't cure her: my name's. not :-.Pottleidot.' A - malignant smile overspread Tim's facei:as lie siowly recovered his position and proceeded to eat a farthing biscuit. ' How is your literary work getting on V asked,-when we had-finished tea. Tim, I should have tow you', /IS a literary actor. Not well at-all,'..replied.T-im, despond- Mgly. In feet, this morning I -got a most disheartening letter,aferfoot.ermilv er.' He vulled a - handful- of- letters 'out of his pocket and handed'inn One of them.' It' ran thllB : , MR. TIMOTHY •ROTTLELKYR-•-DlKir..Sir I am sorry to say tjuttl-eannokundertake i Wpay ioi,your •aisntriUagge—, Th014444.161ne , g THAT =OOUITRY , -H1 -TBl'NOfff LANCASTER CITY,' PA., TVI:SDAY 310 - RNING, APVIT, 2, 1861. • supply—it is indiscriminate-a b u s e, often in language so full of vitupersition and contumely as to be unfit for our columntl. We hope you will see it to be your duty —I can assure - you It_ would-be for your interest—to cultivate a less offensive style. I shall be glad to look over any contribu tion you may be pleased to: make, but at present I cannot undertake either to accept or pay for them. Yours, &0., Pziawaosic CODGERS. That is very unfortunate.' I said.— ' Have you any of the reviews to which he referi V Tim reached' across the table, and handed the a dumpy scrap book, in which were pasted leaves of journals and reviews. I proceeded to glance over some of them, while Tim knelt down close by the fendet and endeavored to excite' the, fire, to resurrection by pushing lc". little shreds of newspaper between the bars with his penholder. The reviews were really such as Mr.', Codgers had represented - them to be. They were written in a .spirit of intense and bitter oriii3iin. The first , one that turned up was a review of Bart on Recreation, and commenced thus We admire the sagacious--prudence of the publisher in prefixing to this volume a portrait of Mr. Bart. It is a guarantee that he really belongs to the genus homo. The low and rampant animalism of his book would inevitably have led us to a different conclusion' There was another beginning with 'Johnson said that Robertson's writing to sembled a little gold packet in a great bun dle of wool. Mr. Ferguson's writing bears a deal of resemblance to Mr. Robertson's; the only difference is that Mr. Ferguson's is all wool together.' A third commenced thus : 6lf extremes meet, the poetry of Mr. Smile is close upon that of Shakespeare, for it is unquestionably the most wretched driveling that we ever happened to have read.' I knew it was not Tim's nature to write thus but his spirit had been embittered by disappointment and neglect. I looked at the poor fellow as he crept by the cheerless hearth, his thin, sickly face blue with the cold, and, when I thought of his utter loneliness and misery, I felt no emotion but that of pity. I could not in honesty tell him that - Mr. Codgers was mistake a. I rather urged him to take that gentleman's advice and cultivate a healthier style. Some conversation about my future plans brought us to the hour when I must go. Tim bade me good bye reluctantly and with evident -pain, for I could see a tear glittering in his eye, and he wrung my hand as if we were parting for evermore. c Well, good bye,' I said, as I left him ; keep up your spirits ; there are brighter days in store for you.' I had scarcely got out and begun my descent of the dark stairs when I found that I had left my gloves behind. I groped my way back, and, finding the door opened, stepped across the passage and into Tim's room. Tim was sitting by the hearth, his head bent upon his knees, and his frame convulsed by emotion. 4 I say, Tim, what's this ?' Tim started, and, hastily brushing his eyes with the cuff of his coat, pretended to be busy with the fire. What's all this, Tim?' Tim rose, seeing there was was no nee trying to hide hide his feelings, turned and took my hand. His eyes were already swollen, and his cheek wet with tears. Dick,' he said, don't think me child ish ; you are the only friend I have left, and when I found you, .too, gone, it was too much for me.' My dear Tim,' I said, g I feel as if 1 could throw up the whole thing, just to wait near you. Bat I'll do better. Give me a pen.' I sat down and addressed a note of introduction to Aunt Mills, telling her, in a few words. of Tim's loneliness, and asking her, for my sake,- to show him all the kindness in her power. Call with this,' I said, sealing the note, and call as soon as you can. You must take my place at Aunt Mills', and she will take mine with you. Now, you'll be sure to call V • I will,' said Tim ; she'll soon tire of me, like all the others ; but for your sake I'll call.' Tim took the tallow candle, and when he had snuffed it with a penholder and a paper knife, showed me down stairs. On reaching the foot a wild gust of wind blew the candle out. We shook hands Warmly in the dark. Good bye, Eqok ; a prosperous voyage to you.' Thanks, Tim ; God bless you ; good bye. PART II I reached Simla in the - early part of 1857. In May the mutiny :broke out and so disturbed the poital arrangements that I only got one letter from England at the time I was at Simla. In the Autumn of the year following I returned, and, having nothing to detain me at South ampton or London, came on without delay to Edinburgh. It was evening when I arrived, and I stepped down to the Piaci sophimil Institution, in hopes of meeting some acquaintances. I picked up The Mercury in the News ,Iteeat and glanced over the local news. The para graph caught my eye- at once; . RELEBENTED TO MR. TIMOTHY POTTLB 4 DOT : We' understand that the presenta tion, to. the talented and philanthropic editor of Northern Review, is to be made to-night , in the . Queen Street..flall JeCob Wimple, M. P., in the Chair. In . addition" the handsome epergne to be 14 ( Mcluitecl te Mr, - Pottledot, we arelappy to learn• that a silver tea-set will be presented `to' his myself; <'l coinoldenee of name,' `I: said: to 4l didn't think there were`two , Tiinothy Poddledots in Scotland. If it hisdn'tbeen for the Mrs. Pottledot 1 should positively„. have fancied it was Tim. It surely oan't - be his fatlier2 • Queen' Street Rail is next door te.the . Philosophical, and the meeting (aflftutiet; on referring to my watch), must be going op.. I stepped`round, and thiugh•the was: quite full, a half Grow% induced 'the deer/zeal:ler to let ' .me in. The ball was bfilliantlp;lighted,and filled .With alash ionible company, but so crowded that there Wit seatoelY standing room; and all roonid see. oyet the heads in . fro4,•_wiS. thiObiad Id - a- little 'gentleman who Was speaking — on "the ''platform. • Ile had WOll 9 14 12 45-41/91Penk of -whiAcCfap.tl4B 'l4t. 4gentlemair ba4. - and his fan- was 164 - red" and lifivtite-C-Witli, ‘limu-LAlorrboxwma - imi tumm]iitrr as if he had been Speaking for It consider= . able time. His geetures were very "ani mated, espeoiallf, with lde right atm, whieh- waved- exultingly* the air, = as if he were oraokilig a coaohinan's whip. He was sayirig . that if any' man more than another deserved a. pledge if public coe fidenee it was Timotht'Pottledot; and there was any : present-more: suitable than anotlierit WWI •,an epeninss. 'A lily,' 'he said, beautiful idea -it silver lily. The" lily grows ; so has Mr. Pottledot grown in powek. grown, in usefulness,. grown, in public) estimation. The lily is'of - silver, solid and sterling ;,.and is not Mr. Pottle-: dot of sterling metal, solid through - 114' through? The lily is perennial;- so is Mrj Pottledot. The lily. beats "fruit in this glass atop ; so' does - he. Have we not the fruits of his labors in our new schools,. int oar healthier literatere, in the increased' success of all philanthropic schemes 1- 7 Nay, have we not his infant' son jtreuumr , dons applause, during which the little man waved his arm with increased exulta tion] rising np, as we hope, to 'follow in the footsteps of his illustrious father, , and form the crowning gloiy of the Pottledet name 1' Who is.that ?". I asked of a gentleman next' me as the speaker disappeared amid loud applause. 6 Mr. Burt, the author of the book on Reoreation' I thought I remembered the , name, but had no time .for reflection, aethe lion of the evening rose up ,to reply, and was wdlcomed by a perfect storm of oheers and. clapping'of hands.., I looked, and instantly began cheering so vociferously as to take the people around me by surprise. Virliy ? Because there was no mistake about it. It was Tim ! The same black hair, the same black eyes, the same fine forehead, but otherwise how different! His cheeks were quite ruddy, his face beamed with sunny smiles, and his voice (when the en thusiasm of the people allowed it to be come audible) rang short and pithy, and elicited great applause, especially ' hen he made some endearing reference to his wife. I waited impatiently for the close of the meeting, and then, after considerable struggling, succeeded in reachiV the retiring rooms, where I found Tim in the midst of a groap of congratulating friends. g I cried 4 let me join the rest.' Tim started, and no sooner caught sight of me than• he broke through the others and grasped my hand. It's Dick, as I live ! Why, where in the world have you come from l Well never mind.; it's all right, yon are here. Have you seen her Her I thought he surely could'nt mean Mrs. Blobbs. I Her P repeated Tim, with a merry twinkle about his eye. 4 Oh, your, wife ! No, I was'nt aware that you had one' an hour ago.' What ! you were'nt Tim fell a laughing, and laughed till I, thought he would have burst a blood-vessel. I could'nt understand it. As soon as he was able to speak, he introduced me to Mr. Burt of Burt's Recreations and to Pembroke Codgers, and to several others. Then, bidding them all hastily good night, he dragged me out to a cab in waiting ; bundled me in, gave the cabman the address, and told him to drive like the mischief.' I am not in a condition to say whether he drove like the mischief or not, bat he very nearly drove us into it, for he dashed round the corners with a frightful reckless ness that nearly pitched us over, cab and all, and put the lives of about two hun dred people in extreme jeopardy. Tim chuckled very much. I was puzzled ; thought it must proceed from his joy at seeing me again. W e pulled up before a house in Rutland street, and as soon as the door was opened Tim (without even giving me time to leave my hat in the hall) hurried me away to the back parlor. Here we are !' eried Tim, throwing open the door and pushing me before him. Here we are !' A young lady was crossing the room as I was thus unceremoniously shot in. Could I believe my eyes? It was cousin Kate ! Oh, you old sinner !' I shouted, making a sudden lunge with my stick at Tim, who reeled back upon the sofa, and lay laughing to his heart's content. So this is what you have been at, is it ? Ah yoa cunning old rascal. Kate and I congratulated each 'other heartily. She looked prettier than ever, especially when I quizzed her about Tim. Tim sat rubbing his hands and relishing the thing excessively, evidently regarding himself as the happiest fellow in, the world, as I was strongly disposed to think that he was. Well, but where's Tommy?' he said at length ; 'Dick haent semi' him yet.' Timothy was in bed, but I must see him at once. Tim would listen to no objeo tions ; so, leaving buttruotions with Kate to send out the servant to knock up every person that had anything to sell, and get a splendid supper ready, 'in honor of Dick's return,' Tim led me up stairs.' "He is just my.image; said Tim, every body says so, and his eyes are like Kate's as eyes could be.' We entered the handsomely furnished bed-room, and the gas, when turned up, showed a cradle in one corner, in which there was visable a little head furnished with an imperceptible nose and cheeks of disproportionate bulk. ':Well,' said Tim, bending fondly over his child, and stroking a chubby little arm that lay out over the clothes, 4 do you think it liki3 me Well,' I said, there is a resomblimoe. l I did not think it tresessary , t,o add , that its membranes to it batter padding was in:nem:gay 'greater, and that, for the life of me, I could not , have distinguished ,that child' from any Other of the Same'age that I had every seen. Ah ! bat its eyes, wait 'till you see them,' • Said Tim. Kate's to a T look here.' Tim. raised a 'little eye-lid ; with his fin ger, but nothing was visible exeept the *hits, and the other eye-lid was raised with no better aweless. • 4 Never mind, _ said Tim, g you'll , see them -the - morning. I never '-aaw a resemblance like it.' I bent down and hissed 'one of, the fat cheeks and fingered the chubby arm, and felt my 'heart traria 'toward the little . bahe, to the grata delight 'Of'TiM ; who saw: how it' arm. in:a 'aibment, ATA '_loivored the pa Ana: went Own "Otairli p 7ll d Kite (who •wsa-; a ilditallitett*eiffalY iftetina4."Aill. 1 1 1 :n ' t 0 / 41 ' lna 'how an We haireorde Jam t 3 how, through my' mite; ~Whad " .become: quite at home at. Aunt ; and:be and Kate presently. found. out-that;they,liked each other rather -better -than anybody : else- and how he - begat:to feel himself a different man; and- find that the world Was pleasanter, :and:- the hearts about - him : warmer 'than he ever dreamed of; and how on,. looking over Burt's book a gain, ;. tictigktt, it one of, the:l:pa he.lusi aver Seen, and wrote. ; a review-of. that. &Dad him several. friends. Burt and . Codgers among the rest; and how he married Kate right MT, and found hituself, in consequence as happy as the day was long. ' Everybody seemed to love' him; ''becanse he loved everybody And now, before hehad been a month married, - he-got-the editotship of The Northerw Reviewand had only been six months editor when the publishers-and other friends had made him a-handsome present, as I bad already seen. All, owing to you. Kate,' said Tim, drawing his little wife,to him,;.' I loved you and through.yetk everybody else.'. Then what of Aint Mills V I asked. I sent her and the girls to spend a ?Beath with the old Phe_ at, home. They got on glOriously together.' And Mrs. Blobbs r said I laughing. Well, I diirnt giie her the Croton oil, after all. I bought the jam, but the good influences had beghn to 'work at that time, and I me the jam to Mrs. Blobbs as a present. Yon can't think. how motherly she soon became: I missed nothing more ; I began to -think it must have been the cat •that took away , my -things. When I left, I gave lifts. Blobbs a Bible, and do you know the good old soul wept like a child.' We had a happy evening of it—we three—and sat up -talking about by-gone dayi till the fire becaine almost as low as it was at MO. Blobbs' ; but when he and pretty Cousin gate bade me good night, and he told me I should see Timmy's eyes, and other marvels connected with that precocious infant in the morning. Tim looked a very different man from what he did when he wrung my hand and bade me good bye at the foot of Mrs. Blobba, stairs. And I hay& never met a poor, disconsolate bachelor since but I have told him of Timothy Pottledot, and advised him to go and do likewise.' How JED MISSED Iv.—Some folks are in the habit of talking in their sleep, and Miss Betsy Wilson was of the number.— This peculiarity she accidentally revealed to Jebediah Jenkins, in a careless, conver sational way. Jebediab had just finished the recital of a matrimonial dream, in which the young lady and himself figured as hero and heroine, .he having invented the same for the sake of saying, at.the conclusion, it was g too good to be true,' and by thus - speaking parables, assuring the damsel of which he dared not speak plainly. g I never dream, ' said Betsy, ' but I sometimes talk half the night, and tell everything I know in my sleep.' g You don't say.' Yes ; I never can keep a secret from mother. If she wants to know anything, she pumps me after I've gone to bed, and I answer her questions as honestly as if my life depended on it. That's the reason I wouldn't go to ride the other night. I knew she: would find it out. It is awful provoking.' SoMe days after this, Jed called at the house, and entering the parlor unannoun ced, found that Miss Betsy, probably over come by the heat of the weather, had. fallen asleep on the sofa. Now Jed, as the reader has surmised, had long felt an overwhelming partiality for the young lady, and yearned to know if it was returned , ; but though possessed of sufficent courage to mount c the immi nent deadly breach,' or breeohes, (connu bial ones, we mean,) he could never mus ter spunk enough to enquire into the state of her lieut. Bat he naw bethought himself of her confessed somnambulic ler quacity, and felt that. the time to ascertain his fate had come. Approaching the sofa; he whispered : My dearest Betsy, tell me, oh, tell me the object of your fondest affections.' The fair bleeper gave a faint sigh, and responded : I love—let me think—(here you might have heard the beating of Jed's heart through a brink wall)—I love heaven, my country, and baked beans. But if I have one passion above all others, it is for, roast onions ! ' The indignant lover didn't wake her, but sloped at onoe, a sadder, but not a wiser, WE HOPE So, Too !—A young lady of extraordinary intellectual capacities,' re cently addressed the following note to her cousin : Dear Kuzzen.—The weather whar we is air kold and i 8 porie whar you is it air 'colder. We is all well, and mother's got the his Terrioks; brother Tom has tot the Hoppin Koff, and sister Buren has got a baby, and I hoap these few lines will find you in the same kcmdishnn. Rite soon. Your opheoshnute Razz. ' PRIDE AND SKIRTEL—LittIe Alive A , dressed and prepared for a walk, was skipping back and forth through the entry, waiting for her mother to go out. Her little cousin sad_ he ;was going out, too. No,' said alioe, you : can't go— you, are not dressed up.' Her uncle laugh ingly remarked, g That the pride stuck out quite early.' No,' answered Alice, 'lt isn't my pride, it's my new MOri3oll skirt that sticks out so.' g*The Little Pilgrim has the following Little Susie peuriug 'over a book in which angels -were -represented-as winged beings, suddenly -remarked with much ve hemence=-'Mamma; I don't wont to be an angel—and I rwedn't—,need I? 'Why, Susie ? questioned her mother. 411runph leave off my pretty clothes, and . wear feddera like when ! KISSES. Oh, lam me and go,". Said the maid of my heart, tuid protforellits lip - As a hint to depart,— . - . 6 The midnight appioaolies, My mother will know, My kindest and dearest! 0, kW me and goi." • • She 'gave me the blesting In suokst sweet way, The thrill of Int pleasure Enticed toe to stay; So sis Maid Ain thalsosenta its ff lJatnp.•;3 . 1 0, kin me and 0; 1 . 1 .: Eli;LI, O.OD "Pk I Imo NIPPY!" • iittioS# l- Arehe - sprang, like's fit* a' liar trundle bed; "Ms morning—bright morale/0 -good tttorning, . PaP• 0, eve me 'one kisrfoi good niondnesnainmn! Only just look at my firetky-, etenanr,, Chirping hie sweet ;Good morning to Mary i Thelma s :Feetting streight'into my eyetti-- Good morning A° you,Air. Buts, for you nee . Barly to wake my bidie and me, . And make is hippy ham can NO "'Happy' you meiybe, nit deer Httle girl," At tao mother struck, aortaß a olug.ering curl— " Happy you can be - lint think of the One Who wakened, tldi Diehl:deg, bothlostaid thesun.". The Miles .gisktusgtesl her bright Mee with a nod:. Ma,may I av, then, good Morning to God?" "Tes,littleding ode, - surely.yon may.; Kneel as yon kneel every morning to pray." Mary knelt solemnly down, with her eyes Looking up—earnestly—into the. slice.... Aiid Iwo little hands, that were iblded together > . Softly-she laid on the lap of her mother, "'Good morning, dear Ifather in Heaven," she said; " I thank thee for watching my snag little bed, For taking , good care-of me all thadarkni,ght, And waking me up with the beautibil light ; Gikeeprne from naughtiness all the long day, Dear Father, who taught little children to pray 1" An angel looked down in the sunshine and smiled, But she saw not the angel, that begat:Wale:WU! _ . . I AND JENNY DAVIS. On a sunny crammer rnoraing p Early as the dew-was dry, Up the hill I went, a-,berryi u g, . Need I tell youtell - you why ? Farmer-Davis had a daughter, • And it, happened tlud. I knew On each sunny morning Jenny Up the hill went berrying too. Lonely work is picking berries, So i joined her cm,the hill; "Jenny, dear," said I, "your basket's Quite too large for one to fill.?' So we staid—we two to fill it, Jenny talking—l was etill— Leading where the the hill was steep, Picking berries up the hill. • " This is up-hill work,'! said " El.) is life," said I, "shall we 'Climb it up aline ? or,-Jenny, Will Jou come and elimb with me ?" Redder than: the bliuthing berries Jenny's cheeks AL I A MI OM. While without delay she ailswered, "I will come and climb With you." A FLEET IVTAAR.Titor, BY AN IRISHMAN. Lady C. was a beautiful woman, but Lady C. was an extravagant woman. She was still single ' though' rather -passed e x '.. treme youth. Like most pretty fepales; she had looked too high, and estimated her. own loveliness too dearly,. and now she refuped to believe that eh was not as charming as ever. So' no wonder she still remained unmarried. Lady C: had about five thousand pounds in the world. She owed about forty thousand pounds ; so, with all her wit and beauty, she got into the Fleet, and was likely to remain there. Now is the time I speak of, every lady had her head dressed by a barber ; and the barber of the fleet was the handsomest barber of the city of London. Pat Philan was a great admirer of the fair sex; and where's the wonder 1 Sure, Pat was an Irishman. It was one very fine morning when Philan was dressing her captivating head that her ladyship took into her mind to talk to him, and Pat was well pleased, for lady C.'s teeth were the whitest, and her smile the brightest in all the world. 'So you are not married Pat,' says she. Niver an inch ! your honor's ladyship,' says he. And, wouldn't you like to be married?' again asked she. Would a duck swim Is there'anY one you'd prefer 1' Maybe, madam,' says he, I you niver heard of Kathleen O'Reilly, down beyond Doneraile. Her father's cousin to o'.. Donaghew, who's own steward to Mr. Murphy, the under-agent to my Lord Kingston, and—' cHnsh !' says she ; sure I don't want to know who she is. But would she have you if yon asked her ?' Ah; thin, Pd - only wish I'd be after thrying that same, And why don't you V 'Sure I'm too poor.' And Philan heaved a prodigious sigh. Would you like to be rich V Does a dog bark V If I make you rich, will you do as 1 tell you 1' Mille-murthers ! your honor, don't be tantalizing a goer bay' ' Indeed, lam nOt,' said lady C. So listen. How would you like to marry met' Ah, thin,my, lady, I believe the; King of Russia himself would be proud to do the same, lave alone a poor divil like Pat Philan.' Well, Philan, if you'll marry me to morrow Pll give you one thousand pounds.' 0, whilabaloo ! whilabaloo ! sure Pm wad or enohauted• by the good people,' roared. Pat, dancing round the room. g Bat there are conditi.ons; says Lady C. After the first day of our ntißtials you must never see me,again; nor claim me for your wife.' / don't likctthat,'..oys_Pat, for he had been ogling her ladyship most desperately. g But remember Kathleen O'Reilly. With the money /W. give, you, you may go aid marry her.' ,f, That's three ,', says he. 'Bat, thin, the bigamy never apppar against you,' says her ladyship. Only remember you must take an oath never to call -me your wife "aftei to=morrow; atufriever to golelling all the stciry.' g Never'a word! rll iver say.' Well then,"-says she ; 6 there is ten pounds. Go - and bay a-license, and leave the rest to me_; '_: and then she explained to him where he maa to. go and, when he was to come, _and_all that. The next day:Pat was true to his ap- 1 pOiritment, - , and I found , two 'gentlemen already withler: ladyship. Rae lou:got - the licenser says she. i Here it is, my lady,' says he ; and , gave it to ler. 0 311 e. handed it to one . . of the : gentlemen, who viewed, it ,attentiVely. , Then, *tiling' - 4i two , servants, ..She I turned to the gentleMini - WhO - Wee reading, ' And sure'. 'enough, in ten' Minn* Pat Philin - was the husband of the lovely' Lady C.- • ' t.That will says she to her husband; as he gave her a hearty kiss ; g that'll do. Now, .sir,give MnnitinarrivooeTtificate.' The_ Old:Fgeillfeinaii tie thefive pound note she gave him, he retired ; with " hni'olerk; ffir *lie; enough, I forgot to tell;jetc that he was parson lady, tti . :one Servants. : • says she I;sad presently the, wardeq:appeared;., ,:'Will you be :good. : .xelogg4, 7 4od,,tady, C., gutiti;wo l oo. mi , .),1,A104.9fT: Waal fvi4:4 o lA 13 9.-• 8 0 4 , 4giqugh tp send 14 A 4 4;410 1 04V 100 ;kokyfiLalltia9v,,.., . „. • nr replied c tlkat - 3rOte rintst-iiiiy:Wthtkeindpodndsi6 befqre lean let yon ;:n".2ov:a • • sl am a married , woman.. I r qu 5na. 4 47, 2 taWmy 'husband, Int not,me.!, 44443 Smiled at Philan i who,knaumagugito like the appearauae,ef thirw. •• ; .r , g PardOU me, my; l 2 4.Yi Iv*P911 1 1), you an , Biagio.' g I tell you I, inn. I Whete'aYour.husimati . There sir and she" pointed' tothif tonished barber there hoiititniti: Eitel is my marriage certificate, Whitilf•td peiuse, at your leisirre, My servants y_on.4l det were witnesses of the teremony; -- •&41r detain me,:sir, at your peril; The warden was -dtuntoilounded and. LPL wonder, poor Philan would have , ttpilirearq but neither _party •, would, let, him.c. Tke lawyer below was, eonsulted. Theregult was evident. In half, an him ,I#sai:o7 was 1101sua--Aer husband, a prtsoner fot debt to the amount' of forty thousaUd pounds. ' Well; eir, fot some time, Pat tbougbilif was in a dream, and the oreditaiiii tliotfghV they were still worse: The they had a meeting, and'finding how-they had been tricked, etwori they'd detain trial Pat forever. Bat as they-well• knew that: he had nothing, and would'nt feel muchi shame in going through the., Insolyetkt„ {court, they made the best of a bad barl, gain g and let hike go. Well, , must know, about a we#, after this, Paddy Philan was sitting. by I little fire, and thinking ever, the wenderflit things he had seen , when, as 'sure as death; the postman 'brought him:a leiter,.thtkfiredr he had ever , received, which •le 'took h ovret.: to a friend of his, one Ryan, ifruit:sfiller;) because, you see, he was no great' handl at reading writing, to decipher for him.' •It ran thus.: Go to Donaraile and _marry Sathloolk O'Reilly. The instant the knot fulfill my promise, for •maltitig you comfor7. table for ltfe. But.ae you value your ligsl and liberty, never . breathe a syllable , of Wha l t ‘ is passed. Remember you , are power, if you tell your story. The money will be_tti,l e to you directly, if you enolopg ) me your marriage certificate. I send yot,t;', 50 pounds' for present expenses. O happy Paddy! Did'nt he start next day for Cork, and dicrnt he marry Kat Ev-: leen, and touch a thousand pounds B r the powers he did.. And what was mores he took a cottage, which perhaps, yoi know, not a hundred miles from Bruffip,, in the county of Limerick ; and i'fav, forgot his first wife entirely, and paver, told any one but himself under the promise of secrecy, the story of his Fleet Marriage.. POVERTY NOT so GREAT A COUSE,—If there is anything in the worldthat a young man should be more thankfnl &iv than another, it is poverty which neoedsi tates his starting in life under . very great . disadvantages. Poverty is one of the hest tests of human equality in existence. A taiumph over it is like graduating with , honor from West Point. It demonstrates; stuff and stamina. It is a certificate of worthy labor, creditably performed. A young man who cannot stand the test, is not worth any thing. He clan . never ritte i above a drudge or pauper. A young man, who cannot feel his will .harden, as,:the, yoke of poverty presses upon him, and` his" pluck rise with every difficulty poverty' throws in his way, may as well retire into some corner and hide himself. PoVeitty saves a thousand times more men thartit ruins ; for it only ruins those who are net particularly worth saving, while it saves multitudes of those whom wealth would have ruined. If any young man who reads this is so unfortunate as to be,rieh, I give him my pity. I pity you, my rich young friend, because , you are in danger. ,You ; lack y stimulus of effort and (m 440104 09 which your poor pompanion, poSeesSes::l r cl will be very aph if you haie a soft place in your head, to think yeniself !Olive Witt; and that sort of thing makes you nietifi`; and injures yen. 'With full pockets gaud' full stomach, and fine liner' ancletitiaoleffi on your back, your heart and soul pletliork4 in the race of your you will tit:Pima self surpassed by. all the poor boys around; yon, before you know it. No, my boy, if you are poor,. thank Qoa ; and take courage; for. He intends to give. you a chance. to ,tnake something of per-, self. If yen -had plenty of money, ten chances to one, 'it - spoil pit f0r,..e11, useful purposes. 'Do you lack ' education Have you - been cut short of the text liar? Remember that edtalation, likesonte other things, does not consist - in the dultittide. of things a man possesses. , What can you. do? That is the question that settles business for you. Do.you.know your bust . , awes Do you, know men, and.-how-to. : deal with them t Has your mind, by, any, means whatsoeverreceived that discipline Whit& &iyes to its, action pettier and;fit,:e 7 , tilty ? IfsO,_then:yoft are more di, and a thousand times better thin the one 'who 'odllCge with his brain full of that wide!' hi - iiiintiot apply to the business of life—the atpilin- -, Lion of which has - been- iu ti6tditse4odili: o eiplinary process as far . as he is 0011043TUME0 There are 'very. few men.in thlittorldlesi than thirty ' years of 'age, •unmarried; iwbo; can : afford to be rich. • One of the,grwate6i benefits to be reapi4d frnnk..iiregnfiffpfigi disasters, ,is the saying , -40VP,1r22 young Ting' LAircrairricit VerktMAltildta JOB PRINTING ESTLEaralga ir No. 8 NORTH DUKE STREET , 0 ' The Jobbing Departsnintriditished with new and elegantbype - -hreid*"deacripi. and is under thetharge Of a'PW.tical and ellead TriikiliD — The Proprietohtareptipartd to PRINT. CHECKS. m rOOO #PTIW Ltdit, BLANKS, : • OLICENRAND BILL HEADS ANDI4RIMIWAkidtriND-4,004/16,21 • PROOR PAPER ROWER AND PhI&PEUXT4, i to k ii . 4 - • 'BALL VIOICITES RIM P with : neatness, =wag and dispatch, oaths limit= bit taistis, andlis iimannertiot a% . sen•,a-b.r . gay mel ' unthe "' l,;+ ASP 6 Orden leem, a' distance. - propasv iik4en4Q4 to. AM:ll44m* ,11EiON, • , NO.B Northikake stre4L•net#fr .g.N2 ort.sm, 11047-Thquirifet shtekrateiersitansono -- • • :. 4.1114 RB. W-&YLAIS Abbill-WEINTZEL COM. f "l4" ' iQ Pa tiffl: lp= "l" Iht• 9 1 4 C f rPF4 I6 ... • ' ` , • vutemciiticii r 616beirdi * setaSierittiithal it " w dratri ll aNWrnie r • _ litirket irtnstoitwm9tb,l o 4k at% jlbla - 1a , !3.ty , z1 mon . . i l lo gic ;. T " it- , ..,-c t izliw.t4. ' r:itrk • , 3 a... _ 1 41410, 4 4 11l Atirl i tiani0 11 1 1 6( i ..' ' .oraii sdearg la L'S.Eli baz t 7:
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers