sat tit:tatty gutetkvatt; PITISLIBICED EVERY THirBSDAr By COOPER:', SANDERSON dt CO., E,.0 Smars, Inf. A. .6fOP.TOX, • TERMS--Two Dollars par wank psyaol• in all cases In advance. oFFlcßl — Sotract - Egr conmot as CENTR4 SQuARE. eiir. All letters on business should be dul dressed to CooPirn, ANDIDISOIf th Co. FAREWELL Farewell! and will it never fade, The grief condensed in that one word? " Why folloa-s the long night no day? 'Why Is the soul so stirred ?" In dreams a shadowy form I see, Whose calm, sad enze is fixed.on me; The moonlight gleams across the floor, But the one presenve comes no more. Could I have shared my grief with thine, And sought like thee for strength divine, I had not known the fearful spell Which lingers In that word, farewell. Stars look down through the lonely night And greet me with their holy light ; Those cold, Pure rays no joy Impart To one who " bears a haunted heart.' Alone in memorY's Silent halls Pale spectres gllsle upon the walls, Where on my soul In anguish fell. The Import of that last farewell. It was for thee I tuned the lyre, For thee I wooed the muse's lire Alas.! sweet lyre, ones gaily strung, The music of my soul is dumb; I touch the chords; one walling sound Echoes unceasingly around. No harp shall sing nor language tell What thrills in that one word, farewell The '• wreath of flowers with silken chain,' f. 50 changed for coils of seething flame, 'Pill dark with sin and dim with tears, Roll on the lone, impassioned years, As with despair from all I turn, Down where smouldering ashes hurl), Pour out my soul in ime wild knell, One walling ery—Farewel I, farewell ! THE DESERTED ROAD =EIDE Ancient road! that wilarsi deserte,i Through the level of the SWf•epillV, towards the crowded tuurket Like a ,treant without a salt— standing 'by thee, I louk I.ekward And, as in Lli,f light ul dreams, the years deseenil :Ind Vanish. Like thy whitely tented lean, Ilvre I stroll along tht• As In yt , llth ' S'lttliarted 11,111: Jill! I IlliSs tin, 0111.ttlivs And drivtd...llll4l,—flori: Nian II ae cr . °, .1 01 .10%1141 htiel“,ts llt the will, Vlth thllr w:this trg)hi lhd tht•lr orehr- , I no. oil Ilit• W11.1•1‘1, , LOllll, tlii,ng Mt.., And 111,. 1:111.•11 .401, 1 , 1111,1.13111 , 4 nt Illr cb,,, 1.1.• I l i t I Ilt• G•;1•N, 0, ht. pik.s, iivll.l, 11 ,, L11101 , 1:, 111 .111oiont Ilion ail u•tirpor of Iho rule Rolls In 11.•ry, iron rattle, Exultation, gnli• :411.1 Itt.gt, tt.tl lint the 1.0,40 tt 111111 I Itrtti ilittt tlitettgli Ity 1111111 it bit fttNot it'll, -1.11 Ito tlettlitlt,, 111, stilt I hkt:4ll gr:o and ~:011 I I it t I ,t p-10 lS 110 p - 110,114h t•1•11/11It•y 1 .1:1, 1114:N1 a ,allll th 111.•. litcritm From the French !UM ru 4il:011 1(1411 N(Jthilw can nit Ii ti viiti ( ;e(wg'', 1"'" i`h IY 111011L . N considerable least I supposed.. recel \ lug lo : u l.tl cr from ILc Brut that my lei (cr had been received just Ilefore Cllr clost2 or the ('cartes loan, in which they Mut 1 , 111*(1;-zed tothe amount t \\ - enty thmistuni dollar,: that if thought it too tintsli, it large profit might lie immediately realized, the stock had gone up. A po.h,eript, in this liand of I Ir principal, suilgratralated ills And 1 ." Alhrrt " ha, s finished lon i itsci„.,:zii:ia of fortune. had 11 , Illendid pri.jvct in no nt•ztd, but nobody li,itun to, pt.!. It•Ilow, tt,., 1.- We '%sera three friends, inet tegethei bewailing the rigors of f”rlune. Our lamentations, however, molt the turn they usually take among com panions whose age dia'S, not eXCeell twenty years .t work which would create my reputa tion, could a publisher only he met with willing to undertake the expense of printing." ' I hitNe,tiSkell our principal," added 1, to increase my salary, after four years if assiduous service ; and lie answered, that of such clorks he could find as many as he wished for six hundred francs a-year." "My clear fellows," Nterrupted iieorge, " although we Ira ye neither one or the other any hopes of making a for tune, eould we not get the eredit of being rich To what good asked 1. " It gives one a position in the world ; a large inheritanee augments the eon sideratiall ill which we are held—every- thing becomes easy.' " i rementber, - tsars tny answer, " having heard in my childhood Of a cousin who went to Jamaica or Martin ique, and never returned." "That is just wind we want; We will bring this cousin to life, or rather we will kill him. yes ; Jacques Meran died at Martino ue, leaving a sugar plantation, fifty slaves—in short, a for tune valued at two million francs—all to his dear c,,usin Louis Meran, from attachment to the name." We laughed heartily at the joke, of which I thought no more ; but Inv two reckless friends, George and ,ilbert, spread abroad the talew.t 1 en we broke up, with all the seriousness imaginable. The next day people came to compli ment. Inc. It will of course be under stood that I disavowed all cause ; but no one would believe me—my two friend's had affirmed the truth of the report. In vain did I assert that it was yike. Many remembered cousin Jacques; some had „actually seen hint embark at Nantes, in 1T59. Among tile number of these vi,;its was one of the most agreeable. With the whim of a young mail, I had sonic (line previously 'ordered a frock-coat in the new fashion, 'without having the means of payment; !he garment was worn out, and I yet owed half die bill. There had been , for sonic time a coolness between my credi tor and myself, whose importunities I wished to avoid. The rumor of the legacy made him hasten to find me. - Snell was the penalty I paid to the foolish pleasantry of my friends. "Good day, Monsieur Matthien," said I, with some embarrassment as he entered ; " you are come for the tiny francs:" "Does Monsieur huagint , that I am 1 11 i/Ik:big of such a I !irk ? No; it was for the mourning.'' ' What, mourning? The mourning for your (ousin, Monsieur, the mourning of an heir-at law. Without doubt you want at com plete suit ?" "rat thip time, Alonsieur Nlatthien, it would be impossihle," I hope Monsieur dues not think of withdrawing his favors front me. ( 'Oat, vest and pantaloons black—freak of dark bronze for the morning." " I tell yo - ti again I have not yet re ceived—" " I entreat Monsieur not to speak of money.; it will ecnue soon enough," added the tailor, who had already taken out his scissors, and passed his measure roundiny waist. I was, in truth, in great want of clothes, and permitted him to continue. No sooner was he gone, than another individual entered, who immediately began— " My dear Monsieur you must do wie a great service. Buy my house. You are rich, Very you want; real estate: Fifty thonsand francs are nothing for you—only the half of your income ) and at present I am in urgent want of money. I expected Monsieur Felix to buy it; but he floes not decide, and I have some pressing engagements to settle." " I buy your hoose? what folly !" 1, It - is no fatly. It is a safe invest ment. After some repairs, in two Years J. M..6loorza, ALFRIIII Itramßots•••2c. it will be worth double. I have your word ;" and he left without giving me time to reply. So well did he propagate a report of my, purchase, that in two hours after wards, Monsieur Felix came to me in a great hurry, apparently out of humor. " You have cut the grass from under my feet, Monsieur," said he, on enter ing ; " I cannot do without that house, and thought it was already none, as I had made an offer of forty-nine thous and francs, believing that the owner would come to my terms. But there is no hope of starving you into an agree ment ; so, without further preamble, come to offer you an advance of fifteen thousand francs upon your bargain." Fifteen thousand francs coming—l knew not how—to inc who had so much trouble in earning my eight hun dred francs of salary as clerk to the registry of the ('ou•ts of law. Although but little acquainted with business, I saw the advantage to be derived from my position, and replied : " It is impossible, Monsieur, fin• me to give you an answer at this moment; return at live o'clock ; ineantiine I will consider the matter." Al a quarter before the appointed hour. Monsieur Felix was again at my door. Said I, " 1 IlUd 110 WWI for that house, anti did not even think iiliout it, when the proprietor came to be' 111 to purchase it ; and it appears that the liottm• is now mime, As it nits you, and any other will cli, tt , 11'01i 'or air s I accept .vour offer." - " Y ni shall la• paid in a rimitnight, in ill Paris," the _pur haser, thilighleil with Illy in liu-iine,s Parer ON Park ! l WaS SO little zit•eus towed to that currency, as to imagine that it \multi he towessory hetlit to the (•apital l'or payment, anti therefore w rOte 10 LI eltllinterehtl hete , e, the (111/3 . one Wil(Ne address f knew, as from that I received regularly an annOity of live hundred frittles loft tilt by oile of WY utiole,, sod %\ !deli runi l ed ;t ~ccicuuu• purtim, of ineome, With what impatience I waited the expiration of the time, when I wrote to :Messieurs Hugues tool liergeret, that having certain funds to invest, I begged their advice as to the safest mode. It appeared that the words "certain funds" have very different aceeptations in tom rce, ;o•eordillg, to the name and po sition of biro who us,td them. The news 10 . to inheritance must have reached Certain funds, situated as I was, WaS n uuulcst uianncr of sp`Cifyillg Twenty thousand dollztrs! The letter fell front my hands ; the amount fright ened me. I wrote instantly to my correspondents, informing them tltatnll large a sum went beyond my means adding that no remittances having been received from Martinique, as they sup posed, I was unable to satisfy their claims. The aIISMCr came in a day or two, stating that as I did not appear to have confidence in the Cortes loan, they had sold out my stock at a profit of eighty thousand francs: and hogged me not to feel uneasy, as remittances were always slow in coming froth distant planta tions; in the interim, my signature would furnish me with all the money I could want. lin , prospectus of a Ger man bunk oa.s inclosed, in which fifty shares had been secured for toe. Eighty thousand francs! Either I understood nothing of commercial mat ters, or the clerk had written one or two naughts too many. :Nly situation be t:trate embarrassing. I was overwhelm ed with congratulations, especially when I put on my new suit of black. The ed itor• of the newspaper thought himself obliged to give a biography of my cousin J 1104 tit, and asked mu for additional particulars. I was besieged with an noying questions. In Whitt Way would tnrnish my house ?—what would I do for public establishments? lout' be nevolent ladies wrote to recommend to my notice tire institution under their guardianship. I was ruined in post ages; for, in the midst of all my riches, whether real or imaginary, I had no 111011ey. Fortunately, from the moment I was to be rich, no one would take a sous loom me, and tradesmen courted the honor of giving ate credit. A t last I decided on going to Paris.— Immediately on arrival, I went to my hankers, who reeeied Die as the inher itor of great"wealth. " I regret," said liergeret, " that You mistrusted the Spanish loan, for the stock has: ;main gone up. NO matter, however, you have smite left." Will pin have the goodness, Mon sieur," said I, "to tjll me precisely how inuelt these funds are %vol.( li, which you have bought for me?" The ealculation is easy. Twenty thousand dollars at so much the dollar —and the suni already paid. 1r you sell to-day, you till pin about twn hundred twenty 1110US:111(1 fralIVS into your pocket.'• I opened Illy eyes 11/11Sit'Llr, I \VI) hundred "I N\ en Y re you quite I.l'l'l itin ' certain a., any one call be, xvith ill ❑ leNv hundred frano,," I dill WitSh to alq.e:4r too ninth the ""vii'v , and replied That is well. You spoke also of a " Yes, the establishment of this bank has met with some difficulties; but the atfitir Is not less good; we are on the eve of terminating it, and the et•ili \\•ell up." 'ould that a•rip .also Lr sold I inquired " You hold fifty shares," replied the hanker, " which have advanced four hundred and liftyliorins, making alto gether nearly sixty thousand francs." " Although as yet I have paid tooth- " Without a doubt," ,was the answer. "'That is singular, but since you say so I submit. I should like to make a safe investment of the whole ; - will you be so kind as to specify one?" "our five per . cents, Alonsieur--our tiye cents-LI know. of nOt4ing safer. At the present rate the gain will be six. can understand that all these little mat ters worry you, You will soon have to deal with much larger sums," " By placing all that I bold in the five percents ; I should have an income of—" " That its soon reckoned. Threelum dred thousand or thpreabouts ; the quo tation at eight makes 'elghfeel:(thouSand INe(en,?Otzet itt/ciliigelteer. francs---say twenty thousand to make a round sum." "Twenty thousand francs of income?" said I ; " when could I receive it?" "Oh, to-morrow, if you confide the transaction to our house." "That of course," was my rejoinder; " what other could inspire me with so great a degree of confidence*.' The bunker bowed. Will it be believed? to the midst of all these treasures, I felt a certain embar rassment in asking for a small sum, of which I stood in the greatest need ; for, after paying the expenses of my jour ney, I had but five francs left. Such, however, was the force of habit, that I could scarcely believe myself legitimate ly possessed of more than my little an nuity, which was not yet due. " Dare I ask," I inquired, with a blush almost of shame on my check, "can I without indiscretion, beg you to advance the for the moment a small sum, which I want on arrival in a strange city ?" ". Eh, my dear Monsieur, my chest is entirely at your disposal. How much do you want—three, four, ten tMutsand francs ?'' " I du not ask so 100(41; a thousand Will be sufficient." " Will you have it in gold or notes ?" Called the cashier. May I beg of you," said the hanker, leading the way as I lose to depart " may I beg you to con tinue your good will to our house Y" "Certainly, Monsieur—you well de serve it," I replied, with the confidence which the certainty of posses.ditg all in come or twenty thousand franes begall to give me " Thera is yet, one favor which I wish to ask," said liergeret ; you are '• not acquainted with Paris ; you have, per haps, but very few relativtts here—come and take a hunily diluter with us to day ; my wife will he delighted to make your aCqUaintanee." " With the greatest pleasure." " We dine at six ; if you have no en gagement for the evening, we shall have a few friends, and hope you will stay." There arc few moments which I re member with more satisfaction than those of my leaving M. Bergeret's house. I began to bolieve in the reality of my fortune and had a thousand francs in my pocket—a pleasure which had never before happened to me. The fifty golden Napoleons gave me eNtraordinary im pulse; in fact, 1 - stood grtutly in need of them. possessor of twenty thousand francs of income, I was obliged, on my arrival in Paris, to leave my trunk at the-office of the diligence, not having the memis of paying I'M' n 10 1IgIIII-1% 1 110 \t :11.1 after wards took a conch to the tir . st hotel pointed out Iv use, where I VSI.2II,IISIIed myself in a handsome apartment, and put on my suit of mourning. I arrived with so touch punctuality at M. lier•- geret's, that he had scarcely had time to finish telling my story ta his wife.— She liowe er 1.10 hrurd enough to cause me to be received as a friend of the house. Every one did the amiable to me; I met a beautiful woman, and over heard whispered retntu•tcs made about me—nu:des,. bearing, great skill, splen did business talents! Thus, when NI. Bergeret entreated me to regard his house as my own, I promised willingly, although I could profit but little by the invitation. Madam !fugues would linve me to dine, when I met with other in troductions and invitations. Now that I was rich 1 could almost have confined my expenses to souse few presents arid fees. Meantime my two friends, George and Albert, had heard with alarm the success of their report, the truth of .which they dared no longer to deny.— They had been frightened by my depar ture for Paris, which all the world at tributed to difficulties in the liquidation of my debts; and I had soli - bred my self to he deceived by what was con certed between us merely as a joke. Three days after my return nmn Paris, any faithful servant announced their names. " Let them conic in," was un reply, for I did not receive all the world. On seeing my handsome time-piece and gilt candelabra, and the new furniture with which I had decorated my apart ments, they opened their eyes in con sternation. "'lltere is much dilliculty in gaining admission hero," said Albert_ " Yes, 1 ain besieged by persons with all sorts of solicitations and projects; but you,. my dear friends—you will al ways be welcome. You are come just in time to accompany toe to an estate which I have suite thoughts of purchas ing; it is not a large atrair—one hun dred thousand franncs. " I lake it to Ia venue di tansc (tl ,• aid • \yid] a significant jerk its head. " TWO league, only Intl I talo: you n ettrriagv." " V(1111 . t.arritKo " My carrittgo," You have a carritAge? " Ves, and two dapple grey horses, which I brought from Paris; as yet I have no saddle horse, that being 'mire diliieult to find." rqy two friends retired to one of the windows, where they whisperett to one another, looking all the time very lugu- "hear Louis," they - said, "you know hat your mush' is nut dead?" " I don't know if he I,e dead, for I ain ot very certain that he ever• lived." " You know that this story ot• your uheritanee is all a joke." " I am persuaded that only you and I . . believe Si),' was my answer. " We have done great wrong," rejoin ed fay frienqs ; (' great wrong in what was intended only as fun. It causes its uuu•h sorrow," " On the eontrury, I thank, you for it." It is our duty to distlvow it ; we are going Iu publie to declare ourselves guilty." "I entreat you to leave things just u they are ; a few days inure of credit will prevent the necessity of displacing my funds." George and Albert regarded me as completely deranged. " Come," said I, " let us lose no time ; the carriage is ready ; I will tell you as We go along.: I have spoken to a book seller, Albert, who will print your man uscript." Truth, however, always comes out. Some who were on the watch were sur prised that nothing arrived from Mar tinique ; well advised people shook their heads when speaking of me. The -edi fice so quickly raised tumbled down with equal rapidity. The best tat' said some, " he has ended by falling into the snare which he laid for others. For my part, I never believed it." I comprehended that the storm had broken out, on finding one day a dozen notes on my table. They were all nearly the style of the first one I opened. " M. Grignon presents his respectful 'Compliments to M. Meran; and having an urgent need of money, begs that he will be so good as to pay, in the course of the day, the little account which he ha. 4 the honor to enclose." My answers were all alike :—' M. Me ran thanks M. Grignon for the bill which has been so long asked for, and sends the amount." One letter only contained no request for money ; it was from a friend whom I had almost forgotten. Fearing that I had been duped, he wrote to lend me five hundred francs, should I wish to remove from a place where so many rumors were circulated prejudicial to my character. My reply gave the ne cessary information, which I concluded: " I am rich, not by an inheritance which I never believed, but because it was de termined, in spite of my protestations, that I should he rich ;, and I have, in reality, been made very rich ,L I scarcely know how. This is what I would wish you to say to those who talk of me." I ONN'e more than fortune to my singu lar situation, since it has assured me of a friend on whom I may count in ad versity, should it ever visit me. For another week I was the subject of con versation. "He has been fortunate, if you will ; but I say he is a clever fellow, who has known how to take advantage of circumstances ; it is not everybody who could manceuvre in this way." For my part I was for a moment tempted to applaud my own genius, yet a little reflection convinced me that talent had nothing to do with it. I quietly took my place in society as the possessor of twenty . thousand francs of income, and still keep it. Moralizing on ray sudden elitucge of position, I can only look upon it as one of those strange freaks of fortune which all the world allows to he so unac countable. LAW AND MANNERS ON THE ROAD Ali of us have ideas more or less (.or reet, in regard to the law which regu lates Our use of the highways; and, at any rate, good sense and good nature ale usually very safe guides. A few words on the stliject, however, may not he amiss. It is commonly said that every one has a right to hall the road. This is practically true, and eomes about in this wise: you and I meet upon the road— our legal rights arc exactly equal, and both have right to Mir own several NVII.VS without obstruction, so, popularly, we •say I own hall' and you half. The law steps in to facilitate matters, and directs each to turn towards his right hand.— The road should be " worked " wide enough for two teams abreast, then each num has a clear title to a passage on his right hand side Of the way; and no One has a right to obstruct another while on his own proper track. This is true whatever the load or the team ; for if' one litlO llri\e :k troth that Itllol her can bass 1)1111 but With ditYleldly Or not at all, then their rights are no longer equal. This- point beemnes very im ronallt in Winter, for it is no joke to turn your horse and fall into the deep snow while your neighbor goes smooth ly along, in, the hentett path. No one has a tight so to load his teaut as not to be aide to give up half the tract to who ever demands it, hadlllll.ll 111a3' choose t he part which pleases him or any portion of his right hand half the way :111(1 the team must yield it to him. This is clearly so in winter, and 110.101 M is obliged t414-:.dep into the snow for um) or two horses,— This is the law, and the Court awards it. Now for the nanners Alto mad, which, in some instances, 4 vary from the law thereof. The first requirement of mad man ners is good nature and an acconnno dating spirit. Do to others as you would have them do nt you. _Always be willing to yield more than half the space, then you will be pretty sure to Ire eqnally well treated. They who exact inehes will have inches exacted df them. I your neighbor has a heavy load, consult his convenience as far as possible; yon may sonetime be loaded. It has become a Practical rule of cour tesy to lure out for wood and logs, and fot other heavy teams 111 winter for they say, "we often cannot turn out and never safely, so if you want wood accommodate us;" which we arc very willing to do. But remember ii was a favor, not your right, -and you have a reciprocal duty m perform, (me which, 111111 sOlTy 10 observe isnot always borne mind. When you have unloaded and are returning en . ipty, just recollect I cut had the whole 11 . 101 in the morning, and it is no inure than fair that pal should be part icuktrly obliging to those whom you meet now and give them their full share of the path. One word in relation to teams going the same Wll3' ; in which ease 11111113' Slll.Oll to think there is neither law nor manners. When It team comes up be hind you, which desires to proceed faster than you do, the team has a right to a reasonable space and opportunity to pass on—ill fact to half the road for that purpose, and your obstructing lihn in his lawful desire is both bad manners and bad law. If your load is heavy, do tile best you can. In most cases the very least that can be asked is that you stop. This is particularly so in winter, when it is a heavy tax 4)11 a team to force it into a trot in deep snow—made necessary by your continuing at a walk. My reinark above in relation to the emptied wood sled applie.s here, and if one wishes to pass ,r( - 11 . 1, remember that while loaded you had the whole road. • One relnark more, to and for the ladies. First to them. If out walking keep ill the path—never step into the snow or mud for any ordinary team.— If you meet the team, step into your right hand track or part of the road and all goes on easily. If the team comes up behind, step into your left hand track ; then, as sleighs are built, the horse in the other track, as before.— NVhereas, if you continue in your right hand track the horse or the team must travel wholly in the deep snow in Order to pass you and the driver will lie tempted to scold his wife as proxy for the female sex generally. I have to say for the ladies—always turn Out for them. They are entitled to the right hand half, and will you run over them because, in their eon fusion at meeting one of the " lords or creation," they happen to take their half out of the wrong side? •I close this somewhat lengthy disser tation with um appropriate aphorism Wheel grease is a great lubricator, but good manners are a Vastly greater one. --ECtaremOnt f iV. IL) Eagle. Aky- A lawyer having some legal bus iness to transact with a widowed lady, took occasion to inquire her age... The matron, who had long since defred the " widow's weeds," attempted to look prim, and much younger than she re ally was, as she replied : Thirty-five years, sir." Then turning to the daughter, he said : " May :I be so bold, miss, as to inquire your.age?" " Certainly.; I am a little past thirty _ . tw,,o;three years yourigtr than mothe:" TIIE POOR WASHERWOMAN " I declare, I have half a mind to put this bed-quilt into the wash to-day. It does not really need to go, either; hut I think I'll send it down." " Why will you put it in Mary, if it does not need to go ?" asked her good old aunt, in her quiet and expressive way: "Why, you see, aunt, we have but a small wash to-day ; so small that Susan will get through by one o'clock at the latest, and I shall have to pay her the same although she worked till night: " :-;top a moment, dear," said the old lady, gntl3 - , " stop a moment and think. Suppose you were in the same situation Susan is, obliged, as you tell ine, to toil over the wash-tub six days out of the seven, for time bare neee4saries of life would you not be glad once in a while to get through before night, to have a few hours of daylight to labor for your self and family, or better still, a few hours rest? Mary, dear, it is a hard, hard way for a woman to earn a living ; begrudge pot the poor woman an easy day. This is the fourth day in succes sion she has risen by candle light, and plodded through the eidti here and there to her enstomets' houses, and toiled away her existence. Let her go at noon if she gets through; who knows but that she may have come from the sick bed of some loVed one, and counts tile hours, yes, the minutes, till site curt return, fearing that she may be one too late? Put it back on the bed, and sit down NVIli le I tell you what a poor washerwoman endured because her eni ployer.did as you would wake 0111 the wash." And the 0111 woman took off her glasses and wiped away the tears that from some cause had 'gathered in her aged eyes, and then with tremulous voiee related the promised story. - . - " There Was never a more blithesonie a•idal than that of Ada ft. None ever lad higher hopes; more blissful antiei- rations. She marrit‘d the man of her •hoice,'one of whom any woman might ,e prowl. Few, few, indeed, hall a unnier life in prospect than -I,e had. " And for ten years there fell no Sh, adOW Oh her path. ltcr hom e \va s One of beauty and real comfort : her husband the .ante I:ind, loving num as in days of courtship; \chilling laurels every year in his profession; adding ne \\• eonilin'ts to his hoine, ;Ind new joys to his fireside. And beside these Ideas in, did hail givtdi anollier; a little ern, stood by th e bed-side, its tenant a theintus't of its lather, and dearer 111,11, ooglit else mull offer. " Rut 111111,1 not d‘‘ ell on ;lee, hap py days, lnc -dory [o do ith olhor days. it v.:is thew a, it ha- 11r11•11 hi•en with other,: ju-t when t eup \va,..t e ,Nvt•l let it Nvo, : ‘va n . A ,e vs or misiortunr•- and revere, oe etirred \vith ' , tart lin-g rapidity, and , wept \vay froin them everything hot love anti Owl! . hahy. : -, tared to oath nlhcr and to I hal hey hon. , a brave heart, :HA a (li , tant city began a ilyNy 1. , 11 and , trongly did nil at Irugtlt hogati loive 111 It t. see If' sunlight prospority shine (gain lainie. 11111 a little \ellile it stayed ul them the shadmv, fell. Tito hus- Ind sickened anti maily mil a weary I :lllgui,hillg nut only with mental and budil\ - pain, but oftentintys fur fi)O t t told luedi,•lll,.. that she could du, the \\ \\ - it tiftil hand. She ' Went rroni one thing tee anlitlier till at 11'11011, \VIM had ‘corn a Satin garment on her bridal (lay, toiled at the Wash-tul, for these:wriest living. In a Oreary Ion! , before light, she ‘could ripe after 111 , 01611 g, and labor t'or the dear lilies home. often had to through dill Vold, deep snow, mid group her Acay..tii kitchens which were. ,mnetinms sinokv gloomy, and toil thort , at rubbing, rins- ing and not unfroiltiontly wading knot, iltion into Ow ,hilt, to hang Hitt the elotlies that rhvie even ere site flistene<i them to the iiin•. .Anil, wh.en night eanie, with her scanty earn ing she would group through the eohl to her oftenthrie:: rireles: home; for her lioshtind \vas too ',irk to tend l•\ - ell the tire, orstrikea light. Awl oh. Nvith what a sitiverhor heart would il.raw your. fearing . she \\mid he toe hi! It is a Fact that for six NVeek, at o tillle She IleVer SZINV till' face or her ',kind or 1•101 d, hy the ialap rht, on ti;thhath. I ONV _lad I.` \VI ii 1,1 II:I Vt• IWOI I to haVe had, (Wee a \\ * hill', a aliall NV:1 , 10112 Lrathcred 1• het' "thie dark, winter twiriiiittt as ,The was prepariug a frtkgal breakfast, :tml getting t‘verything ready before she left, her husbaud called her to his bedside. " Ada," said he, almost in a whisper, want you to try :knd com e early tu night; I honw before the light goes, Ada I'll try, - zinswored - 11 c, \vitit oked utterance. " try, Ada! I have a strange de- sire to see your face 1,4; daylight. 'I'() day is Friday; I ha \ - e not seen it sine( Sunday. I must look upon it one( "Do you frt•l worst• ?" asked slit nxiously, feeling leis pulse as silt poke. " No, I think not, t,ui I want to svg your fare once ntort , l sunlight ; cannot wait till Sunday." Gladly would she have tarried by bedside' till the slllllight had stolen through the little window; but it might not be. 'Money was wanted, and she Must go forth to labor. She left her husband. She reached the kitchen of her employer with a troubled face, waited for the basket to he brought. A smile played on her wan face as she as sorted its contents. She could get through easily by two o'clock; yes, and, if slw hurried, perhaps by one.— Love and ati..xiety lent new strength to her weary :inns, and five minutes after the (+wit - struck one, she was just about emptying the tubs; when the mistress came in with a couple of bed quilts, saying: " As you have a .mall trash to-day, Ada, I think you may do these yet."— After the mistress had turned her hack a cry of agony, wrung from the deepest fountain of the washer-woman's heart, gushed to her lips. Smothering it as best she could, she set to wt•ork again, and rubbed, rinsed, and hung out. Tt was half-past three when site started for home, an hour too late!" and th 4 aged narrator sobbed. "An hour too late," continued she after a long pause. " Her husband was dying ; yes, almost gone ! He had strength given him to whisper a few words to his half frantic wife, to tell her how he longed to look upon her face; that he could not see her then, he lay in' the shadow Of death. One hour she pillowed his head upon her suffer ing heart, and then she was at rest." " _Mary, dear," OA ,there was a soul touching emphasis „ins the aged woman's words ; "be kind to your waSherwoman. Instead of striving to make her day's work as long as may be, shorten it, lighten it. Few women will go out washing daily unless their needs are pressing. No woman on her bridal day expects to labor in that way ; and be sure, Mary, when she is constrained to do so, it is the last resort. That poor woman, laboring now s o hard for you, has not always been a washerwoman. She :has seen better days. She has passed through terrible trials, too. I can read her story in her pale, sad face. Be kind to her ; pay her what she asks, and, let her go home as early as she can., " You hare finished in good time to day, Susan," said Mrs. M., as the washerwoman, ,with her old cloak and hood on, entered the pleasant room to get the money she had earned. Yes, ma'am, I have; and nay heah, ma'am, is relieved of a heavy load. I was so afraid I should be kept till night, and I am needed so at home. "Is there sickness there?" said the aunt kindly. Tears gushed to the woman's eyes 'as she answered. " Ah, ma'am! I left my baby almost dead this morning; he will be quite so to-morrow. I. know it • I have seen it too many times; and none but a child of nine years to attend to him. Oh, I must go, and quickly !" And, grasping the money she had toiled for, while her baby was dying, she hurried to her drearyhuine. Shortly :titer they followed her'; the young wife who had never known a sorrow and the aged matron whose hair was white with trouble, followed her to her home! the home of the drunkard's wife, the drunk ard's babes. She was not too late. The little dying boy kneW its mother. But at midnight , he. died, and then kind hands took from the mother the breath less form, closed the bright eyes, straigh, tened the tiny limbs, bathed the cold clay, and folded about it the pure white sh mud ; yes, and more; they gave what the pour so seldom have—time to weep. "Oh, aunt," said Mrs. M., with tears in her eyes, " if my heart blesses you how much more must poor Susan's. Had it pot been air you she would have been too late. It has been a sad, but holy lesson. l 'shall now always be kind to the poor washer-woman. But, aunt, was the story you told me a true ale, all true I ineawr "The reality of that story whitened his head when it had seen 30 suns hers, nd the Illellffiry Or 11 has been one of 1:et.11(. , 1 sorro\vs. 11 is not st ralig 11 1 , rolt,rt4, that I should !pity the rot THE PINE TREE MONEY. (%11,15i 11 John Hull was the 'mint was ter of Massachusetts, and coined all the money' that was made. His was a new line of business; for, in the early (lays of the colony, the current coinage con sisted of gold and silver money of En,- land, Portugal and Spain. These coins being scarce, the people were often Mreed to barter their 1 . 0111- ino.lities instead of selling them. For instance, if a man wanted to buy a coat, lo• perhaps exchanged a bear skin for it ; if he wished a barrel of molasses, Ile might purchase it for a pile of pine boards. usket balls were used instead ill farthings. The Indians had a sort of money called wampum, which was mad(' of clam shells; and this sort of specie wits likewise taken in payment of debts by the English settlers. Hank kills had never been heard of. There was not money enough of any kind in tunny parts of the country to pay their ministers, so that they had sometimes to take quintals of fish, bush els of porn, o r c ord s of wood instead. As the Is(ople grew more numerous ;ld their trade With it(' all Other iu i.reused, tile \Valli Or current money was still mon:sensibly felt. The general paSSed a ill\V I'M" establishing a coinage of shillings and six-penees.— Capt. .1. Hull was appointed to illittltl tacqure this inoney, and was to have one shilling out or every twenty to pay hint for his trouble. Hereupon, all the oh] silver in the eolony was handed over to Capt. Hull. The lmttered silver vans and tankards, I suppose,and silver laicldes and bro ken spoons, and silver hilts of swords that had figured at court, all such curi ous old artieles were doubtless thrown into the melting, pot together. But by far the greatest pa rt of the silver con sisted of bullion from the mines of South America, which the English buccaneers (who were little less than pirates) had taken from the Spaniards and. brought to :\las.sachnsetts. All this old and new silver being melted down and coined, the result was an immense amount of shillings and six-penees. Each had the date of 1652 on one side, and the pine tree on the other side. Hence they- - were ealled pine tree shillings. And for every twenty shillings that lie coined, you will remember, ('apt. John Hull was entitled to put one shilling in his pocket. The magistrates soon began to suspect that he would have the best of the bar gain. They offered him i large sum of money if he would give up that twen tieth shilling, wkieh he was continu ally dropping into his pocket. But Capt. Hull declared that he was per feetly satisfied with the shilling. And well he might be, for so diligently (lid lie labor, that in a few years his pockets, his money bags, and his strong box was overflowing with pine tree shillings. This was probably the ease when he vamp into possession or his grandfath er's chair; and as he worked hard at the mint, if was certainly proper he should have a comfortable one to rest himself on. When the mini master was grown deli, a young man, Samuel Sewell by name, came eon rting his only daughter. His daughter, whose name 'I did not know, but we will eall her Betsy, was a tine, hearty damsel, by no means as slender at, some young ladies of our own day. (In the contrary, having always fed heartily on pumpkin pies and dough nuts, Indian pudding, and other Puri dainties, she was as round and alp as a pudding. With this round, • Miss Betsy, did Samuel Sewell fall love. As he was a young man of .1 (diameter, industrious in his busi ;, and a member of the church, the mint master readily gave his consent. " Yes, you may-take her," said he in his rough way, "and you will find her a heavy burden enough." • On the wedding day we may - suppose that honest John Hull dressed in a plain coat, all the buttons of which were made of pine tree shillings. The buttons of his waistcoat were six-penes, and the kirees of his small clothes were buttoned with silver threerpsttoes•--7 ThuS attired he sat with great dignity in his grandflither's chair; and...being a portly old gentleman, hs:eompletsly filled it from elbow. ta_elbow7.l.onalie opposite side of the room; between her bridesmaids, sat his Betsy. She was blushing with all her might, and looked like a full-blown peony, a great red apple or any other round and scar let object. There, too, was the bridegroom, dressed in a purple coat, and gold-laced waistcoat, with as much other finery as the puritan laws and customs would al low them to put on. His hair was cropped close to his head because Gov ernor Endicott had forbidden any man to wear it below his ears. He was a very personable young man ; and so thought the bridesmaids, and so thought Miss Betsy herself. The mint master was also pleased with his new son-in-law, especially as he said nuthing at all about her portion. So when the marriage ceremony was over Capt. Hull whispered a word or two to his men-servants, who immedi ately went out an‘i returned lugging in a large pair of scales. They were such a pair as wholesale merchants used fo: weighing; a bulky commodity was nom to be weighted by theta " Daughter Betsy, master, "go into one side of the scales." Miss Betsy—or Mrs. :-. 4 ewell as we 11111 St lloW dill her—did as she was hid, like a Mail/it child, without any question of why or wherefore. But what her father could mean unless to make her husband pay for her by the pound, tin which case she would have been a dear I .a 0 , - ga she had not the least idea. And now," said honest John I lull to his servant 4, "bring in ilia( -Aro box hither." The box, to which the mint master pointed, tras a huge, skin *e, .rou-,ound chest; it was ldg enough, my children, for four of you to play in. The seriquits tugged with might and main, but could not life this enormous receptacle, and were finally obliged to drag it across the floor. Capt. liull then took a key out of his girdle, unlocked the chest and lifted its ponderous lid. Behold it was full to the brim of brig-ht pine tree shillings fresh from the mint, and Sam Sewell thought that his father-indaw had got posses sion of all the money in the Massachu setts treasure. nalt, it ,was the Whit toaster's honest share of the coinage. Then the servants, at Captain 1. - 1011's command, heaped double handfuls of shillings into one side of the scales, while Betsy remained in the other.— Jingle„jingle WPM the shillings, hand ful after handful were thrown in, till pluinp and ponderous as she was, they weighed the young lady l'roin the floor. " There, non Sewell," cried the hon •st mint master, resuming his seat in lis grandfather's chair, "take these hillings for lay daughter's portion.— 'se her kindly and thank heaven for ler, mc it is not every wife that is worth ler weight ill silver.' The children laughed heartily at thi., egend, and would hardly be convinced ut grandfather had made it out of his lead. He assured theta faithfully, how .vcr, that he found it in the pages of a ..rave historian, and Ivied merely to tell t to them in a funnier style. grandfitt her," remarked Clara, "if wedding portions now-a-days Were paid as „Nliss Betsy's was, young ladies would not pride themselves upon an airy figure, as many of them do." LOW STEAM. In the days when high pressure learners were the fashion, opposition and raring the eustom on the Vestern lakes, we heard, felt and ughed nt the following, did l . n 1 Brundage j utake of the Columbus: The General Wayne 111111 Culurnbus were both up at Buffalo for Detroit, and steam up 'ready for a start. Captains, clerks, mates and engineers were on the wharf electioneering and telling all sorts of lies about their own and the rival boat. Brundage headed off Cap tain Pratt, Of the Wayne, who had in tow a squad of twenty-nine passengers, Anise leader bargainer was a strong unified woman of forty-five, who didn' iiite like the " nasty, high pressin ' teamhoats, „ what Idlers blow in' up esides sealant' folks." But, my dear woman," said Brun age, "if you will just step this way a )haute, [lt convince you that the 'olunittus can't Itlow up. It's impossis Brundage got the company to the gangway, and then brought out from !he kitchen a bucket of water, not Warmer than milk just ruin the cow. "'There, madam !" cried the exultant and truthful officer; " we never hem our water hotter than that. No, you see we can't blow up; and if we should don't you see the water ain't hot cnougl to hurt anybody We carry I, or steam we do." The argument prevailed, :Ind the 'oltim bus got that lot of passengers. 1 pun another oecasion. Brundage was at the canal packet landing, as the boat came in from Rochester, on Saturday evening, exercising all his eloquence to induce a company of very piously in chimed travellers to take the Columbus, which was to leave Sunday morning. They objected to going on a Sunday boat, but still didn't like the expense of ly ing over in Buffido till Monday morn ing. Brundage's explanation satisfied and decided them. ' Ladies and gentlemen,' said lie " we don't do any Sunday work on the Columbus, only just to get her out of Butlhlo. You see, we get up steam enough Saturday night to fast us all the way to Detroit, and then just as soon a s we get past the light-house, we lash the wheel and let her jog along herself. She's been through so often, she knows the way just as well as any of us." They went with him. "OFF-HAND" JOKE A sturdy sergeant of one of the Mas sachusetts regiments being obliged to submit to the amputation of his hand, the surgeon offered to administer chloro form as usual ; hut the veteran refused, saying—" if the cutting was to be done on him, he wanted to see it," and lay ing his arm on the table, submitted to the operation without a sign of pain, except a firmer setting of the teeth as the saw struck the marrow. The oper ator as he finished looked at his victim with admiration, and remarked— " You ought to have been a surgeon, my man." "I was the next thing to one afore I misted," said the hero. ",What was that ?" asked the doctor. . . " A butcher!" responded the sergeant, with a grim smile, which, despite the surroundings, communicated itself to the bystanders. Ittir Socrates was generally a good than. •What it pity he died of drink. siiir,;Young - lady, most young men wouhlz:rather Bee tile ring on-your third finger, than an ink spot on your first. --Ex alar - PX:AXV • Bintmes.l -Na t „sypifigv,p er ansn square oi ten, sr:tamper cent. lbr tractions-or a RNA!. ESTA.I4 Ai _p un AlYPEEVrtitairg, - i , - drat, suutt-canti - for *alga iposcquant hair, PATENT liTazdannat and other atk;,,, u ,'A:liy. the Half Ons ooool Llocmia, year, - aaa • Third ooltunn ll , onecyear OftenOftenorlesa; " so - 10 Lbutriess oards, dye Unesor lawone year,... .... . .. ' Laden Jun, .... llcamtors' notices.... .. ............. ... .. 240 Administrators' notces ace ees' notices, ZOO' At Aa irtors' notices,...- 1.50 Other "Notices," ten — lina7,"or less, three times, - A DESPERATE) STRibliit , Several: years ago, when the .seuth ,of Ireland was, as it ever has been Within the memory of the oldest inhatoitants; in a disturbed state, a gentleinan, ad vanced in years, lived in a retired coon-: try house. He was a bachelor; and whether trusting to his suPPosed-,pepti laxity, or imagining that the general alarm among the gentry was less, he continued in his lonely mansion long after his neighbors had quitted' theirs for a safezresidence in town. He had been indisposed for several days, and, on the night he was attacked,.ha# his supper in his bed-room, which" was on the ground floor, and inside a parlor with which it communicatett The Ser vants went to bed ; the house was Shnt up for the night, and the tea-party with its appurtenances, by a providential oversight, was forgotten in the old man's chamber. Some hours after he 'had retired he was alarmed at hearing a window lifted in the outer apartment; his chamber door was ajar, and the moon shone brightly through the open casement, rendering objects in the parlor distinct and perceptible to any person in the in ner room. Presently a man leaped In through the window, and three others followed in quick succession. The old gentleman sprang from his bed, but un fortunately there were no arms in the apartment; recollecting the forgotten supper tray, he provided himself with a case-knife, and resolutely took his stand behind the door. He had one advan tage over his murderers—they were in the full moonlight and he shrouded lu hupenetrable darkness. A momentary hesitation took place among the party, who seemed undecid ed as to which of them should etiter, for, acquainted with the locality of the house, they knew well where the de voted victim slept. At last one of the villians cautiously approached, stood a moment in the doorway,. hesitated, ad vanced a step, not a whisper was heard, a breathless silence reigned around, and the apartment before him was dark as the grave itself. " tko on, blast ye! What the deuce are ye afeerd of," said the rough voice of an associate behind ; he took a second step, and the old man's knife was buried iu his heart! No second thrust was re quisite, for with a deep groan the rob ber sank dead upon the floor. The obscurity of the chamber, the sudden destruction caused by the deadly thrust, prevented the ruffians in the outer room from knowing the fate of their companion. A second presented himself, crossed the threshhold, stum bled against his dead associate, and re ceived the old man's knife in his bosom. The wound though mortal was not as fatal as the other, and the ruffian had time to ejaculate that he was a dead man! ' said the m Instantly several shots were flred,but the old gentleman's position sheltered hint from the bullets. A third assassin then advanced, leveled a long fowling piece through the doorway, and actual ly rested the barrel against the old man's body. The direction, however, was a slanting one, and with admirable self possession he remained steady till the murderer drew the trigger, and the ball Passed without injury ; but the flash from the gun unfortunately disclosed the place of his ambush. Then com menced a desperate struggle—the rob ber, a powerful and athletic ruffian, closed and seized his victim around the body—there was no equality between the combatants with regard to strength, and although the old man struck often and furiously with his knife, the blows were ineffectual, and he was thrown heavily upon the floor, with the mur derer above him. Even then, at that moment, his presence of mind saved this heroic gentleman. He found that the blade of the knife had been turned, and he contrived to straighten it on the floor. The ruffian's hands were already on his throat—the pressure became suf-" focating—a few moments more and the contest must have ended; but an acci dental movement of the body exposed the murderer's side—the old man struck with his remaining strength a deadly blow—the robber's grasp relaxed—and with a yell of mortal agony, he fell life less across his exhausted antagonist. Horror-struck by the death shriek of their comrades, the banditti wanted courage to enter that gloomy chamber which had already been fatal to so many. They poured an irregular volley in, and leaping through the open window ran off; leaving their lifeless companions be hind. Lights and lamps came presently— the chamber was a pool of gore, and the old man, nearly in a state of insensibil ity, was covered with the blood and en compassed by the breatless bodies of his intended murderers. He recovered, however, to enjoy for years his well won reputation and to receive from the Irish viceroy the honor of knighthood, which never was conferred upon a braver man. Old Benjamin B—, of —, Connec •at, or, as he was called by his neigh " 'Uncle Benjie," had an uncoil / uerable desire to open a conversation with every man he saw, whether stran ger or friend. He one day met a person who proved to be more than a match for him. Siding up to the gentleman, whom we designate as R., he remarked ; Nice weather for shoats." R. motioned with his hand towards his ears and mouth, but said nothing. Uncle Benjie interpreted his silence Into an assent, and continued : "Want to buy any BhoatB down your way ?" Again the stranger shook his head and repeated his pantomime. you don't, dew ye?" said Uncle Ben, and then for a few moments re lapsed into silence. At length he re turned to the attack. Raising both hands, he exclaimed : "Well, I never saw a sheep eat so much in my life." Hereupon R. drew a slip of paper from its pocket and wrote : " I am hard of hearing." " 0, you be, be ye?" said Uncle Hen: jie, raising his voice to a pitch whieh, severely tried his lungs. " How did It happen ?" The stranger shouted in answer : " Talking to a fool," at the same time rising and quietly walking away. For a moment Uncle Benjie was,uon plussed. Turning to the bystanders,,he remarked : " Well, I guess he must IiE . I . . ve, , beejp, talking to himself when it, liapiibik.t.".l47l, ' An industrious housevirlfe,, with.: out any aid from a physieian - , is genang ally mending. Ite,. If you . *mild makeL'oalia , to' fir some heads Makethem.trflfOOlS64l4'o'. A YANKEE TRIAL
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