41751LIDIEM V 220
'2 %Rf AI ST BD
WEDNESDAY.. JANUARY .27: 1847.
(From the Daily Sun.) •
THE MINIATURE.
IL Sketch of thlama of Temperance.
DT DANILL STROCK,ipt
In taking a ramble lately, through the lower
girt dour city, we paused at a little-hovel, in
to which we had several times accompanied a
friend. ItWarvthe residence of an unfortunate
being, whom, all effort to reclaim from the
hatit of intemperance, had hitherto been una
vailing. Formerly in extensive business. he
had occupied all influential position in society ;
and even when rum bad reduced him to po
verty, the pride imbibed in his former condi
tion remained. Hence he regarded Temper.
sure societies as assemblies of the low and
tolgar portion of the community, and consider
ed it insulting to be requested to join them ; and
thus fortified by a contemptible pride, his evil
habit resisted all the entreaties of his friends,
the advantages of business, or the tears of his'
_ •
As we stood deliberating whether or not to
enter, a sound of lamentation issued from the
apartment, which, growing more audible, we
could distinctly recognize as the voice of sup
plication. frequently -interrupted by the over.
'borings of sorrow. It was the wife and
daughter of the drunkard, bent in bitter agony
before the throne of Clod ; and although we
could define no words. we well knew the bur
den of their petitions norcould we refrain from
mingling our own earnest prayer that it might
be answered.
A good intention will excuse seemingly awki•
ward actions, and after mucli hesitancy we
knocked at the door. To our satisfaction we
were recognized and eottlially welcomed. It
were useless to add another to the many de.
seriptions of the abode of the drunkard's faini
ly—the abode of desolation, loathsomeness and
sorrow—but we were shocked, with the appear
ance of the inmates, consisting of the mother,
her daughter, apparently about nineteen years
old, and a son art five. Tamed by fear and
hunger, the little fellow approached and hid
his face an our breast, 'while tears coursed
down. his cheeks. H s sister was the persimi•
fication of famine. tier cheeks were yellow
and sunken, tier eyes ho low, and her every
limb like that, of a ske'etim ; the fine elastic
step, and upright gait of youth were gone, and
she appeared as though unable to sustain her
mitering frame. • Yet even amid this wreck of
youth, the pensive loveliness of her counte
nance, her smooth nark hair, and her open
brow, testified to the beauty which had once
made her an object of deep and affectionate-re
gard—and once, when she raised her eye, we
thought we perceived in its .sudden flash the
index of a mind, groaning fur an opportunity to
boar from the aceumulations which were crush
ing it, to that position for which it had been'
created.
Her history, with which we were partial's'
caused us to gaze upon her with
the derpthtt emotion. The shameful conduct
id the father had entailed shame and affliction
Lynn his child, and the one whom she had long
and ardently loved rejected her withlhe cruel
Mlection, that sheW as a drunkaq s (laughter.
That expression suidr at .snee intiOer soul, and
'she withdrew frotni'society to drag out her ex
istence iu hopeless misery.
The pause which ensued at our entering.
did not long continue. The mother's mind
ined to be laboring tinder an amount of
grief, too great to be Contained ; and amid ma
sy interruptions she confided to me, her tale
olsorruw, It was mingled with the remorse
of being, in part its instrument—for. on- the
tight which made her a bride. she filled the
fiat glass of wine, and offered it to her hus
band.
"Oh ! sir," she exclaimed, •• the memory
sf tins, haunts me by day and by night. Ile
vas then all that youth, and health, and hope
could- make met admired by friends, and
rourtvd even by the envious. How little did
I Mink that that one act, would be the origin
of this misery- .woulddeprive him of all his
honors, all his happiness and that when I
would implore him with bitter weeping to re
tool, 1 would rise in shame and despair, to
choke the utterateee of, my. words."
Hut downward course, had been gradual.—
ijay company. the ruin of the young husblind,
had operated so 'powerfully upon him, that to
gratify his passion for it, he would frequently
'Pend the entire night, atter the fangtica of bit.
mesa, to dissipation and revelry. Even in
the counting house, much time was spent with
idle friends, and consequently his business be
gan to decay. From the social party he was
•kd to the ball room..from that to the theatre,
sod lastly the tavern.' But by a happy coinci.
dente, in his very krst exit from the latter
Plate, while shouting with his boisterous
P°.i o / 13 , his eye met the searching ,gsZe of a
friend, for whom he had entertained the great
est defereace> his voice immediately -sunk to
ieate, and he stole home overcame with
ihante and conviction. The incident was nye.
ro, leading him calmly to - compare his course
and prospects with thitse of other days ; and a
reformation ensued which cortitnaed more ihan .
rt But where avarice or aelfisliness'are .
,e motives to action, no permanent good can
effected. In proportiun as his business re.
tled, fear of the cause which had injured it de
eased, until at length he began to smile con
temptuously at the morality which had so long
ltyred hin t from his highest enioynient ; fie
r.iturned to his former course—but again here
lormed ; and thus long continued, alternately
changing, sometimes abstaining even for years
tro na . •
l i ntoxicating drink. and then plunging in
t their vortex deeper after each successive re
jr.m. till. in the struggle; his buisiness was
ruined, his credit and influence gone, and him. ,
if the consummation of all tviekednees=a
„3" ll artr, penniless., diseavetf, loathsome.—
' his natural'pridb beet not' yer forsaken him,
"'Nil it proved agorae rather than a blessing..
Re would not sign the •plettc of abstinence,
•••
• -
, _
- •
Jl t ;jt I I• - . , ,•'' •
•
.
.
I
• tfc,
. •:! " a
as_ • . R
because he.consider himself as. pciasessed Of
sufficient moral strength to ito as he plitised;
nor join. a Temperanbe ESociety, becausa , the:
company would-be vulgar.- :Titus, ruled by,
the grant impurseof an evil palmitin, aided by a'
contemptible pride, be sunk, as 'we,have seen,
lower and lower kr , tke-grades of wretched.
. ,
It is a strange feature of human nature, that
a slight incident has often more effect to rouse
the mind by reviving old association4lhan a
powerful train of present circumstanees. :Wane,
past life appears a dream of sunshine, whose
walking is a stormy scene that surrouuds us ;
and hence, though.we may be surrounded by
friendiand admirers; the transient remembrance
of one being whom we formerly loved, can
throw a gloom over society, and make us lone
ly amid a - erowd. Such an incident occurred
in the family of which we are speaking—and
what honor, and wealth, and shame, and the
ties of affectiou had vainly demanded, was ef-
fected by a seeming trifle.
• As is usual with the inebriate, all that could
be exchanged for money' had long since disap
peared from the house of William A—. One
little article alone remained sacred. :It was his
own miniature, and the circumstances connec
ted with it were affecting. It had been given
to the now miserable -wife, sometime- before
marriage, and when in consequence of leaving
the city on account of his health, he had but
faint expectations of again seeing • her. The
bright sunshine of that Imply-period still danc
ed before him ; and drunken and degraded as
he was, he had long regarded that object as a
talisman too holy for his polluting touch. But
rum he must have ; there was no way of ob
taining it but through the picture, and though
at first he was shocked with the idea of sacri
ficing so dear an article, yet from each succes
sive temptation his scruples grew weaker, un
til on the morning of our visit, he went to the
spot where lay the last relic of his prosperity—
hut it was not there. The wife had ever clung
to it as to a child, and hoping he would not de
mand it of her, she had concealed it about her
person. But she was mistaken—at seeing - it
removed from- where it had always been, he
immediately guessed the reason, and reckleas
through despair and passion, he rushed before
her and demanded it. A thunderbolt could not
have been more dreadful. She plead, wept
and conjured up all those phantoms of memory,
that et, often bind the heart in their spell—but
in vain; threats and personal violence caused
her to deliver it.
.Bot one look at those young
noble features and then at his, and her feelings
overpowered her; she hid her face in her tatter
ed garment. and faltered while sobs choked her
utterance. "William, William, the night I re
ceived t h is you Whispered. " Let no hand take
it but the hand of death." "
• .• on, never," she added to us, in conclusion,
" never could I think that he would deprive me
of that one object. I have wept over it. and
cherished it until it has become like one of my
own children—l have shown it to them that
they might see what their father once was t and
shamefully and foolishly I have long hoped
that I might see him as a man, what he was
when a youth—hut this morning has torn from
me the last hope that was left for this desolate
home."
She sank upon a eltir with exertion, the
:laughter left the room, and my little compan
ion screamed in terror at the scene he could
scarcely understand.' A painful silence ensu.
ed. Suddenly the door opened, and to our"ut
ter dismay the 'husband and father entered.-- . .
Rigged and miserable. he was, bin a glance at
hi., face convinced ma that 'he had nut been
drinking, and hope fot himself and his family
dissipated 'ihe first emotion of terror. When
near the middle of thiroom, he paited, turned
round, and immediately recognized us; and
before we bad time to rise. or even speak. had
e •izecl our hand, with frantic energy, and-ex
el timed:
" Sir, you have known me hitherto as a bru
tal wretch ; you have plead with me, and rea=
soned But this happy day has buret
the bands of my slavery, and to-night enrolls
my , name as a candidate for the Sons of Tem
perance. See their Constitution." and he drew
one, from his pocket. l have read it again
and again, they are a noble band, and in a week
1 will be one of thetn."
could say no more. for his wife rushed
to his arms, and the daughter who had beard
lus.exclarnation,Jturried wildly into the,roont.
We r, juiced as one 'of the family, for it was
open( those evynts fovivhich every temperance
man, however humbled, has by his influence
contributed a portion.
• Mary;' he suddenly exclaimed, drawing
something from his pocket. , " take this,
.1 have
brought it home, and lei do hand depriv'e you
of it but the hold of deal/,.{'
Ori leaving that morning.
A— hnrriedly proceeded towards the tavern ;
but his feelings were so acute,3hat although no
stranger to evil actions, the performance of the
present one required the whole exertion ,of his
bad passions ; althotigh his will had acquiesced - ,
yet the reactioncif conscience. aided by the last
scene at home, almost maddened him. He
reached the tavern door, but the giiant•spell of
a power hitheno unfelt, drew him from . the
threshhold. Three times he vainly atitempted
to enter, until at last, with a deiperate plunge,
he leaped upon the fluor, and from that to the
bar, where he demanded his usual 'Morning ;
drinaht. :
Ilaveycnr the g. tin?"" sneeringly look•.
ed the bar-keeper. HeMsde no reply;
Then, as we don't want drunkards here,
yin] can go about your business.!' .
A—, with a strong effort. plunged hts,
hand into his pocket, and. proddeing the minia
ture, glittering with gold and jewels, asked its
Value. •
. .
little over the old aeore.'! replied the
erafty knave. brightening with the hope ()ranch
a bargain; and with hypocritical suavity , he
handed to his victim the now full glass.
•• Shall we'conte to it settlement ?":
Never," shouted A—. I know too
well the value of this picture: for it over io
grace your hands." ' '
Stop, stop," cried the disappointed,. but
=
PUBLISHED EVERY *EDNESDAt-0 TOW/lAA, BILIDYORD COUNTY, PA.,. BY E. 0. & 11. P. GOODRICH.
`.tai.44*su As? iaturrat."
~. • I
_
rrushedthrough:the„dnor, and was foo d
out ofeighi. : After roaming -about for a long
time, it occurred to . him, that, by_ taking the
miniature to jeweller, whOm 'he bail known
fiord a*biiY, - he might obtain for it something
like its real Value. Ile - immediately hastened
to the' place. ' - Like himself; this individual had .
been a drunkard; but on entering, he was is
tonished,to observe the neatness and regularity
which reigned around. His friend was in con-.
versation with:two . gentlemen ; but at the en
trance, of A— he arose, - andlelightly nodded.
gith evident . shante. and einharrassmenti ha
approached the counter, and ezclaimed I
have code; sir; on 'it strange errand."'
. .
s*/th ! what is it V' . . • .
. Can you. tell, tuo,the !alas this.like-
Fleas ?"
Yod' wish to sell it I"
•
I do."
•• Then I cannot buy it, because. I
fear that as soon as you will have received the
money, you will exchange ,it for liquor.. But
I can do you a much greater favor.
What is it ?"
•• Persuade you to join the Sons of Temper.
ance. I know that 'likeness. • We'started in
life together; we, came drunkards, miserable
outcasts - together—but I received an invitation
to join the Order; I accepted, and it has made
me a man again."
••• But they area secret society."
A= if you were to build a house would
you Invite the robber to, examine every door,
and lock, and stairway. and inlet, until they
became so familiar that he could find his way
through them in the darkest night I"
" No, I would not. But what has that to
do with the Sons of Temperande ?" •
"The Order possesses just enough secrecy'
to guard it from the spy and the impostor. It
is a moral edifice, possessing a perfect right to
conceal ever item of its pian o from the robber
who might otherwise enter, as he has in corn.
mon societies, and overturn or derange every
thing fair rod lovely. Here, the mechanic,
the scholar, the gentleman, the rich and the
learned, meet in one great brotherhood ; our
badge is universal benevolence. I was once
like yourself, bit am now reclaimed ; many of
my acquaintances are reformed, and thousands
and tens of thousands, ate pressing on to join
this Fraternity of Love. They are the honor
able of the land, and wherever one is seen, his
friends point to him with pride. and exclaim.
" Behold a Son of Temperance " '
Here is a Constitution." said one of the
gentlemen we have before noticed, " you can
read it fur yourself."
NV ith a throb of hope. A— sat down to its
perusal. The result is known. and he now
lives to cheer his renovated family and to bless
the Sons of Temperance."
Battle of Hebei;Radio.
The her and the Inn as they flow from the
Alps towards the Danube, move nearly in pare
lel. lines, and nearly forty miles apart. Al they
approach the river, the space between them be
comes one elevated' pine forest ; crossed by two
roads only ; while the mere country paths that
wind through it here and there, give no space to
marching col u ms. Moreau had advanced across
this forest to the Inn, where, on the Ist of Dec.
he was attacked and forced to retrace hie steps,
and take up his position on the father side, at
the village of Hohenlinden. Here, where one
one of the great roads debauched from the
woods, he placed Nay and (touchy.
The Austrians, in four massive coltimns
plunged into this gloomy wilderness, designed
to meet in the open plain of Hohenlindere; the
central column marching along the high road,
while those on either side made their way
through amid the trees as they' best could.
It was a stormy December morning when
these seventy thousand men were swallowed
(tom eight in the dark defiles of Hohenlinden.
She day before it Lad rained heavily. and the
roads were almost impassable; but now a furious
snow motifs darkened the heavens, and covered
the ground .with one white unbroken surface...—
The by-paths were blotted out. and the sighing
pines overhead drooped with their snowy bur
dens above the tanks, or shook them lowa on
the heads of the soldiers as the artillery wheels.
smote against their trunks. It was strange
spectacle, those long dark columns, out ofsight
°reach other, stretching thrmtgh .the dreitry
forest by-themselves ; while the falling snow,
sifting over the ranks. made the unmarked way
still mote solitary. The soft and yielditig ma**
broke the tread of the advancing :hosts. While
the rumbling of the artillery and ammunition
and baggage wngonsgave forth a muffled sound.
that seemed prophetic of some mournful catas
trophe. 'f be centre column alone had a bun
dred cannons in its stein. While behind these
here five hundred wagons ; the whole dosed
op by the slowly moving cavalry. .Thus
marching. it came, about 9 o'clock, upon Ho
henlinden, and attempted to debouch into the
plain. when : Goucby fell upon it with tech fury,
that it Was' forced backinto the woods., In
moment the old forest was alive witb•estnes,
and its gloomy recessea illumed with the, blaze
of orCllery., Gotichy, and Ney, put forth. tn
credible efforts, to keit* this immense , fore.
from ,deploy ing, intei the (Ten. field. ,The two
former struggled with the onergv ofilesperation
to hold their ground, and'Othough. the.- 1 914fets
could not,see the.enentfeljne.,the, gotta was
so thick, yet they took aim atAlte, 4linthes that
isenestfroin. the. wood,' and thus ! the two armies
fought:, The - pine treepwere 'sin „. 1 7/ 0 AA"
reeds by, the artiliety, wad feltwith a c rash - .on
the Austrian columns,, whils_ the, freak- fallen
snow turned red witk the. flowing blood. In
.the meantime Hichenpanse.seha had bee? sent .
by a circuitons route with ,a single.oftvisioo for
attack the enemies
_teary had accomplished
mission., Though hie - dish:ion had - been, co t .
in two, and irretrievably separated by' the
'lrian left wing, the brave general: eimtioned
advance and with only thfte . that:wand men'fell
boldly on :flirty thonsand.Austrians. . ks - soon'
as -Moreau beard---the, sound If his caution
'through the forest and ealli ilia own', ii isPreatt
amid the enemy's ranks.-he, - ottlered.lfte and'
touchy to charge full on' the - 4.usWian gender.
Checked, then overthrown, that broken column.
~. t ' Yi: i ~. ..
was rolled back in disorder, ;and utterly rooted:
Campbell.' the poet,.ettiod in ainwer, and gazed
on this terrible scene. and in the :midst ot the
fight composed, in parkthatatriking ode which
is known wherever.our language. is spoken.
The-depth of•the dark forest .swallowed the
struggling home froM sight, but still there issued
forth from its shouts and . Mingled
with the thtinder r of *Mon; and.all the cot:Aped
:noise!of battle', The Aueitrians were, utterly
routed, and the frightened.ravalry ;went plung,
ing Ihrotmh' the eroWds :of fugitives into the.
woods; the.,aitillerymen cot their traces; and
leaving vine'behind. Mounted their horses and
galloped away ; .and that magniffcentcoltimn, as
rent by some violent.explosion, was hurried in
shattered fragments on every. side. Fur miles
the white ground was sprinkled with deiid bo
dies, and when the battle left the Einem, and the
pine trees again stood calm and silent in the win
try night, piercing cries and groans issued out of
the gloom in every direction ; sufferer answer
ing sufferer as he lay and writhed on the cold
snow. Twenty thousand - men were scattered
there amid the trees. while broken carriage and
wagons. and deserted guns. spread a perfect
wreck around.
Fiat Love.
First Lore if like the little bloom
Which fine in Spring is efisi ;
Chilled Love is Qs that - little bud,
When bitten by the blast.
The Ent it throws Its perfume round.
Its golden fruit is shed—
The last falls withered to the ground.
Its germ forever dead:
First Lore hi like the little rill,
Which first in Spring doth run—
It winds along with merry - trill,
And dancesin the slur'.
Chilled Lore Is like that little 'Warn;
In midsummer's hot ray— -
Its turbid tides no longer gleam,
But dwindle fast away.
May ours be like the vernal blow,
And share its happiest part,
And like it, may we never know
The blighting of the heart.
The Fall t,f the Leaves.
Th. progressive decay of leaves, which , had
begun about the end of the last month, proceeds
with steady pace. and their vital actions and
properties have been wrought upon, leo as to
cause the changes of color and shrivelled aspect
observable in the foliage of most of our trees.—
It is summed that plants, in autumn. continue
to absorb oxygen during the night, but lose the
power of giving it out again, and restoring it to
the atmosphere during the day, and that in this
way some of the juices become so acid as to
change the color of the int.
This may be the case to a certain extent, and
in some trees : but it does not appear to apply
to all. These leaves which become red—such
as the cherry—may be affected in this way ;
but this is far from being the_gesteral eolor.—
The plane- tree acquires a tawny color ; the
oak, a yellowish green; the hazel, a yellow _ ;
the sycamore, a r dirty brown ; while the, maple
becomes pale-yellow ; the hawthorn. I tawilk
horn-beam, a bright yellow ; the ash, a fine
lemon ; and the elm, an orange.
These varied hues give to woodland scenery,
at this season ol the year, its gorgeous appea
rance. He who now look. upon what he
sees taking place before him, not merely with
a painter's or a poet's eye. but with the spirit
ofa Rhillsopher, has ample roam lot inquiry
and investigation into the causes which enable
some trees to retain unchanged their leafy hon
ors, while others are compelled to resign them
to become the sport and plaything of the wintry
blast.
What id termed the fall of the leaf has been
the subject of numerous speculations and hy
potheses, all alike unfounded and unsatisfactory.
' It strikes us that the moat universal and efficient,
as well as most simple cause of this act has been
overlooked. ' What we are about to smie refets
merely to the fall and not to the death of the i leaf ;
the one of which actions is vital, while the
other ether is i in a great measure, if not solely.
Mechanical.
In what is termed the azillei of almpit of a
leaf, that is, the point where it joins the stemor
branch, upon careful inspection will be found a
bud ;or future stem or branch. This bud. in
the greater number of trees. begins to swell in
autumn 4 indeed in fey, warm season it actually
expands to its full size and length; as it should
do in spring ; and as this bud is always imam
drately above the old leaf, so in the process of
expansion it pushes the footetalk of the leaf
downwards. and cadges it 'to break off at the
joint or given point of connexion, which sub
sists between all leaves and the stem or branch.
Evergreens retain their leaves till 'spring, as the
budsin their sidle de not swell till that time.
As a satisfactory proof. that this is the real cause
of the fall of the leaf, we may observe what hap:
pen, when shrubs are transplanted. Irby thin
operation the life of the plant be not destroyed.
though the present leaven wither, new buds
will expand, and push the old , leaves off ; but if
the vital principle be destroyed. the leaves - will
wither as before, but will /attain attached' to
AO stem—a , circumstance which every Need
realtidnir decrial evidence that therptatit is
Mostseeds add fruits ate vms p'etfictqf Apen
ed. and furnish Col.i—stiere of subsistence 'to
Man. bird; and beast. is 2 timeof shun
clatuw..a terasid• of ptenty—and that portion
which cannot be consumed at the period of its
matnrityls stored up in various ways, arid , by
:different means. as ptorisiontigainst a. time of
need. , .Though we (in
.Englami) boast not the
sine and its elustenng grapes. or tread its take
into one vats. the animation, of the wine coon-
Wes is nearly equalled , by'the: hop:gathering
and. cider-pressingear ustdfancl; Western, and
_ • •
starthetnatouties. •
Teri B►'D,—A young macron being req'nee.;
ted to danee . aSeMeh creel With *couple, of SOW
fooking maids. . objects, on. the . ground,, that
rpiekluerlid not agree with him."
Johnny Boyd 3.leigh itl4.
I=!
.As I was going past Mr. Josh Barter's tav
ern, the other day, I heard, a terrible polite' in
the bar-room. and thinks 1; I'll just put my
head in, and see what's the matt. r. Who°.
rear roared a heap of fellows, " here's John
ny Beadle, he'll go, and that makes ten ;" and
they' haurd me,in among them. " What'Sthe
occasion ?"'says I. "A sleigh ride over to
Shaw's. (every body goes to Shaw's that goes
a sleigh riding.) with gals, fiddle and frolic r
Whonrah I" says I, " I motion." sayi Dr.
Patridge, •' that every gentleman go right
straight now, and get his sleigh and his lady,
and meet at Hank's corner ; ' and with an.
other whoorah, we burst out of doors, and scat
tered.
I ran full speed to the widow Deans's. Her
daughter Patty is the handsomest girl in Casco
bay. I had - given her some ptetty broad hints,
and only walled for a good chance to pop the
question. And out it shall come, this very
night. says I.
I bounced inter the *Mow Mean i e Out of
breath, add was neat catching Pauy in the
suds. She had just done washing. and Waif
wringing out. standing in the midst of tubs.
mops, and kettles. She was struck all of a
heap at the sight of her spark, and would have
blushed nicely, I guess, if she hadn't been - as
red as she could be .already. ss•A word in your
ear, Patty." says I. giving her 'the wink, and
stepping into a corner, I told her what was
brewing. " I'll run and botrow the deacon's
sleigh, and come back right away." says
"0, you needn't be in such a tearing hurry,"
illy, she. " for I'v got to shift from top to toe.
You see what a pickle I'm In." ' A h,Patty,"
says I. " beaufy y When unadorned's adorned the
" Well. I vow." says Patty, says she.
And off I shot, for how was I to follow up such
a bold speech ; but I could'nt help .sniggeting
all the way to the deacon's to think how swim
mingly matters were going on. I was so full
of this, that I entirely forgot to make up a sto
ry to fob off upon the deacon, till I got almost
to the door ; for the deacon is a sworn enemy
to all frolicking, and so is his mare. " I'll
tell him I want to carry a grist to th,i
But that will be found out. "No matter, so it
is after election, as the politicians say."
The deacon gave a mottol squint at me fare.
when I did my errand, but I was safe behind a
,shirt collar. He then fell to chewing his cud
and considering. e " Mother's clean out." says
I, " both rye and injun." The deacon spit.—
" Well, neigbor, if you are Ideated to trust a
feller, there's two shilling beforehand." " Poh,.
poh, John," says he, walking nit and pocket.
ing the money, " not trust you 1 hear that:—
Now, Joshua, tackle up Suky. drive
the critter slow, John ; and now think on'i.
you may bring my grist, that is now at the
mill—and look sharp at the miller. John, when
he strikes the toll measure." It was too late'
to stick at lies now. So I promised every=
thing. jumped into the sleigh, and steered to
the widow's with flying colors." .
It is the height of gentility, you must know,
-
for a lady to make her beau wait as long as
possible on such an occasion. I sat over a
heap of warm ashes in the widow Beans's par
lor, listening to Patty stamping about in her
stocking feet, in the chamber overhead. for one
good hour. Then I stood up to the looking
glass and frizzled up my hair, changed my
shirt-pin to a new place, thought over some
speeches to make under the buffalo skin, and
finally laid a plot to lug in the awful question
in a son oh slantindickular fashion.
At last Patty appeared in all her glory ; I
was just ctooking my elbow to lead her out,
‘vlien in came Mrs. Bean.
Where are you goin' to, Patty .?"
" Over to Shaw's, a sleighing."
What and leave your o,4:lasi° Dolly all
alone, to suck her fingers ? A pretty how d'ye
do that, after coming all the way from Saco to
see you."
Here Was a knock-down argument. -411 my
plans of courting and comfort welted down and
rail off in a moment. I saw directly that the
widow was resolved to push big Dolly Fisher
into my sleigh, whether or no ; and there was
no 'remedy, for the widow Bran is a stump
that is dehhet to be got round or moved outof
the way. I said something about the- small
size of the sleigh, but It wouldn't do—she shut
my mouth instantly._
"Let Let Me alone," BONS she--"I went a
sleighing afore you was' born, youngster. If
I don't know how to pack a sleigh. who does I
Patty Bean. stow yourself away here, and
ehrink- yourseliiip small. If their amt room,
we must make rdord. zis the fella*s deed to say.
sow, Dolly, hoist yourself in there."
She tumbled into the sleigh Itpft a awl from
a shovel, of eats toad 4 pumpkins into a gon
doll. It was chuck hill of her. 0 she's a
whopper, I tellye."
" Why, Johnny Seedier says Mrs. Bean,
" in my day they used to pack us layer on
layer."
Ai this hint, I sneafied rouoil to Patty, to
begin the second layer on her lap. But the
widow was wide awake. She clenched me
ky the collar, and patting upon 's kneel
trio titivers sesi.": save she.--;
•• Plant your fest fiat and firm. niece ; jump
op. Johnny I end now. • away with her. my
tad." •
By this time I had got so ravin' mad that I
could hold'in" no longer. t fell lout of the old
mare. and if 1 didn't-give it to her *Witt right.
then there's none o' me. that's all. The' ilea
eon counted the *else on het Bide a week at
tetwards ; when he called on me fora reckon
ing, which was made with chalk upon the up.
per flap of nts.every day. bat. Sukey not un
derstanding such fakes. took the bit in her
teeth.and shot off.right and mid, like a streak
of true Conneeticut lightning! lettiina r hoe: ,
we skimmed, ()Yet it f And the Inises. and
barns. and fences. and the 'pig
-- styie t dew by
us, like vleede by, o
the moon. .* Yonder is
tiank i s . cofnertihoota!" . and whoa.] !"
.
answered all:the Istlitrand gentlemen With one
voiCe.• 'gutty; scared with the ITOill2, turned
the corner with a II:rt. and the sleigh was-bet
tom up in ! Whoa there, wltoa !".
The lirsi Thing that ',knew. I was tu the bot
tom of a snow bank jammed doWn under hall
a ton -of I) .fly Fisher ! I thou_ght, I never
should see daylight again, and When they haul
ed me out, I left a print in the snow Very mach
-like a cocked up hat knocked into the ~middle
ef'next week, as the sailors say.
flowsomever, no bones were broken. .We
shook our feathers and crept into our neat again,
laughing as, loud as , the beat of them. The
sleighs were formed intoa string: the' fiddler
following, and away, : we started on the road to
Shaw's—bells jingling, fiddle .sounding, and
everybody hallooing and Screaming for joy.
Peter Shaw heard - the racket two miles off.
for he was always on the lookout of a moon- ;
shiny night. He fell to kicking up a dust in
the best room to put it to rights, and when we',
arrived - the floor was swept, the best japancan
dlestick paraded, the fireplace filled with green
wood, and little Ben was anchored-close under'
the jam, to tug at the brokeniwinded bellows.
No fire appeared, but there were strong symp
toms of ii, for there was no lack of smoke. and
part of it missing the way up thechinney, stray
ed about the room, *hid] gave alb a chance to
hit off another compliment upon Patty's bean
ty,.as being the cause of drawing. the smo - se.
Everybody laughed at the novelty of the idea.
But there was no lime for chat. As 'soon as,
we hal taken a swig of the hot stuff all around,,
we sat the fiddler down by the_ jamb, teak the
floor, and went to work, might and main. the
fiddler keeping time with the bellows. Not to
be prolix, we kept it up, frolicking and drink
ing hot stuff, till midnight, and while it fasted.
the fun was real geniwiue, I tell ye. But as I
cast a sheep's eye at Patty, I
took a notion
that she and Slab Golding were rather thick.
considerin'. Thinks I, she wants to make me
jealous, to spur me on ; so seeing them in closp
confab, as I was canteringdown outside, I por
ed my head between them and cried boo I But
the cat was soon out of the bag. We paid the
reckoning, four and sixpence a piece. Think
of that. Every-body grumbled. but Peter
Shaw didn't care. Then followed- the crowd
ing of sleighs. taking in the ladies at the door.
Such a hubbub and confusion-1 But when
my turn come, lo and behold ! Patty Bean
was missing, and so was Si Golding ! Here
is the end of my story ; and whoever wants to
know the particulars that happened on the tide
home, must ask Dolly Fisher. The - deacon
will tell you what apickle Sukey came home in;
haw much I " paid for the - whistle." Fi
nally, whoever went to our meeting-houig the
next Sunday morning. knbwr very well how
Patty - Bean and Josiah Golding are to square
accounts.
The Starling,
these birds are very social, flying and feed
ing and roosting in large-flocks. Id feeding
they will associate with the rook, the pigeon,
or the daw. There is something sigularly
curious and mysterious in the conduct of these
birds, (says the Journal of Naturalists.) previous
to thew nightly retirement, by the variety apt',
intricacy of the • evolutions they execute ;at
that time. They will form themselves perhaps
into a triangle, then shoot into a long pear shap
ed figure. expand like a, sheet, wheel into a
ball, as Pliny observes, each individual striving
to get into the centre, dec.. with a promptitude
more like parade movements than the actiotis
of birds. As the season advances these prodi
giouv flights divide, and finally separate into
pairs, and form their summet settlements.
Charles Waterton, whose practical observa
tions en Ornithology are well known. made
twenty-four holes in the wale of an old ruin:
near his residence in Yorkshire, to induce the
starlings to remain and breed there. In the
foil wing spring each , hole was occupied by a
pair of starling!.
Ho says, The starting shall always have a
friend in toe. I atheire it for its fine shape and
lovely plumage I protect it for its wild and
varied song ; and I defend it for its innocence."
Ilroods of young goldfinches_ appear, linnets
congregate, and rooks are very noisy as • they
return home at sunset ; the little flycatcher die- •
appears. and the owl hoots, butterfi es and
moths are still numerous, and lady-hirdi are
often seed.
fin MARRIAGE Vow.—Perliaps (here is
scarcely an ordinary oath administered in any
of the transactions of life so little regarded—
so even little remembered by all classes, ad that
taken in the most solemn manner. end in the
presence of the Almighty. by the husband and
wife, Love. honor. and obey." How many
wives . 4 hive. honor, and obey" their, lords
How many even'think of doing so I And. yet
there is an oath recorded against them.' every
simple violation of which is'a distinct-perjury:
A Qvici Vii.—DominiCo, the harlequin.
going to see Louis XIV at supper. fixed hie
eye on a dish of partridges. The. King. who
was fond of his acting, said, •• Give that dish
to Gomioteo." And the partridges, too, sir ?"
Louis. penetrating into the artfulness of the
question..replied, And the urtrulgea, too."
The dish was .
Resit tare is the hest of all books
—full of truth and rich in elequenee. Of its
1 morality. cou reed have no tear. It will
chasten you?• affections, purify your thoughts.
"'enlarge and strengthen your intelleet. soil ele
, taste- your mind to the contemplation of thi -gs
heavenly and divine.
KIFti!CO 0 : 1,
to dPgneit a kiss to he a gentle Pe oc uosion of
the lips. the sensation produppd appending al
iogethre on the tvenetic influence naturally
prerading the partimiiissin:i. •
. .
A lilt AT Saleimr.—An erthli-ty parr
remarks that. in these date. ^ a poor man's
earnings. brought home (lay by (lay. are ear.
tied nut of the house on the backs Of his (laugh
,
tere." •
htutruer.e. the word 66 Murder " by ten• rst
sand.• and the product is 66 war."
I*.Z./E - 11311L . etta'