IMMEtEI
GI
7.IIIATIEVi Zo
TOWANDA:
tOrbncsbag Blaming, October 4/, 1810.
(For the Brad(brd Reporter)
THE POET BOY.
IMMEI
Beside a sweetly murmuring stream,
At the soft close of day.
Beneath a lone star's twinkling beam,
A youthful minstrel lay.
H i s gentle heart was strangely sad,
And wildly ached his head,
For hopes that served to make him grad
Dad with their love-light fled.
Lone time he lay ab in a dream ;
No sound bruke on his ear,
Save rippling music from the stream—
Tunes to that minstrel dear.
The vesper star, that brightly shone.
Loulied down with angel eye,
On this fond, saddened, gentle one,
From the far, deep, blue sky.
And then the welcome Queen of Night—
Her silvery flag unfurled.
Resplendent in her silvery light.
Rose o'er the sleeping world. .
The poet bm•'s fond soul was
With ealm..serene delight;
And thus thought he while gazing oti
ThP shining beauties, bright:
Come, dp , appointments seek my way,
As you hare done before;
And troubles, meet me day by day--
I'll persevere the more;
Let obstacles of every kind
• Retard my path to fame—
They shad discourage not my mind;
(1 yet shall win 'a name."
• • • •
Hark! Hark! Fame's thrilling trumpet sound
\,i l NAME all loud and far,—
'Tis his l—that name loud echoed round.
A nation's brightest star.
'Twas perseverance made him great,—
He a-a, a dauntless one
And tliough he seemed to cope with Fate,
A r...ble wreath he won.
Ceniv! although miefortune's mark—
Pre,s on ! like him you'll gain -
The meed deserved: for that bright spark
"rwas never given in vain,'
Penick, Pa., Sept. '49. TROLI AS
(P,zm the New European Magazine.)
THE DREAM.
Y Imd a Dream which was not an a Dream "—DyanN
monz.t all the various means by which man-
Lind have sought to penetrate into the mysteries of
I,tmoy. non , : have been more generally adopted.
or wore implicitly relied upon, than divination by
dreanis; and even now, that the pure light of truth
3n.1 philosophy has detected the errors of sopersti
tine, and pierced the deceptions 01 the astrologer,
<till is these a mysterious grandeur, a solemn beau
ty in those shaiowy visiolis, sent to us in the dark
ness and <fillness of night, that, in defiance of our
l'AnlAr 1 11 112PMelp. we are sometimes loth to be
hr-ye them merely the rain fancies of an over-heat-
iinaLtination, disclosed for no purpcse but to
roork and de(nde our dormant faculties. Nor do
feelin=g exist only amongst the weak and ig
r-ralt : a belief in ihe'nrerlictions contained in the
• ' -• , 11q 01 steep, has been upheld by many of our
tc and:most learned; and those hying. not in
. !Is P. Mrt; of the Heathen mytholoizy, nor yet in the
e,linal barbarity of Gothic stiperi•inion but in
• .• itiz•••••ni learnin_ and . iefinement. Nlaiik
when. after •peakenz of Tentilltan
!he 1 1 , )xx r•r ,k 1 tin Pi dream.. he
Thai tiII:CW:IS h.ur be,ll
.1r,.,,. r•an i;04 , ..•t0tt v, Ito believe , the liolv
• • :sn hn 11:N. ,L•••rw• of a -
•n 1 al 1.11111; their svr
•1 . r. 1.1:1 . 1.110 .e%eurl ;1.1 1 11'.S• 1 " 11, """
• •Jn n lrrli. marred auJ profane. - I could
, •11W.1.1 Whet alVtillrg 21..ai as Mat I ha.r
1,..,,tp,m,1 tt tin' have believed., that in rnnntPuir td
cal:in, ov, dreams havesomettrnes prov
ed the haibin.le•-rit LOP and served as a wanting
of if:m: l er •hut a- I am v, ell aware that tit: wou'(l
prove au . .11111..,t to-I:. I stoili content m)-
s.'l with the grave au!liortiv already cited. arid
vepta4e even in &it -kiptiei-m. to !elate
errO7li.!;4llrl . %l 1.1( 3 J ...t% 1 - 1,4. In the-, rel!et.'
and ewe( ed tee in widerlake the
' ‘f , !em now fast sinking inio itisrt•inne
I
hnve nften heard narra , e4l 11,
mend ul el) tallier; a geil,l,l-1,
hrKe iudzmesit and veru•uc I can rely with poi
r •n r . fden^e. He n•as an officer in ti arm y
'!10 circstm , tances occurred nesiily foil) ys,iss
upoi his retuning with Isis regirr Phil
Eu_-
lan•! after an absence of lons , duration He is
ollsged to.•repair to London immediately after lit
arilval, wyhenc•e he purpos•ed selling off 1.4 t 1,.•
north of England where his family was then semi-
ding. After many delays,, occasioned by business
at the War Office, he concluded his arrangements,
and determined to leave town on the third of No
vember. The nignt preceeding his departure ar
rived and he fell 'asleep in 'excellent health and
spirits: but awoke from his slumber in the utmost
horror, for he had been disturbed by a dream:
wnn-e dreadful subject was heightened by a nun.
wenors and circumstantiality seldom to be obsery
in these " fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train?
It was some Tinutes before he could recollect him
, cell_ r feel assure(' that he was actually in safety ;
13 ,1 e al length, recalling his weakened enetves, he
, rnile 4 l a! his vain fears, and once more composed
' irtie]flt? reol. He slept, arid again the some vis
ion appeared to him with added terror. He thought
'tat he was ravelling through a beautiful country,
eeh with verdure. and rich in cultivation ; when,
as he Journeyed on, rejoicing in the hilarity which
.tione around him the prospect became suddenly
C hanged; the green hills and smiling valleys
were transformed tea bleak and barren heath - , dark
r,guds obscured the heavens, and night came sud
'ettty on. Presently he reached a building, which
a. tint bore the appearance of a church ; but as he
approached nearer proved tote an inn. lie enter
al the gate which led to the house, but found the
nx,es.t ldliculty in proceeding. Sometimes his
rtt *, i a lr '
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feet seemeli fastened to the ground, and an hens
Bred times he 'humbled over impedimehts *hid'
appeared to lie in his path, the nature of which he
was prevented by the darkness from discovering.
Still with that blindness and obstinacy which usu
ally characteiizethe,dreamer, be continded to ad.
vanes, until allast,'the moon shining out, he found
himself standing a!oritna4a church-yard, and cas
ting his eyes upon a grave. rte befGre him, Colo.
nel beheld his own namelagelptured on the
marble! Struck with surprise, he - ed again,
hut it was no longer there ; and, • passing rough
the.churrh.yardswhich now offered no ebstruc •
to Acs steps, he entered the inn The visirrn then
became confused, and nothieg was clearly defined,
until he rimed him-elf in his chamber Here a sen
sation of tear seemed to hang upon him, and he,
was oppressed by the feeling of intense expecta r
non so often experienced in dreams. Still the
church-yard appeared a. a prominent feature in the
scene. The room seemed surrounded with win.
dons yet all presented the same arhastlyapecraele,
of graves and tomb stones. gleaming white is the
moon shine; which premed, as he gazed upon
them, to gape beneath his eyes. At last he went
to bed, but scarcely had he laid his head upon hhe
pillow, when the door of his chamber opened, and
he beheld a figure in whom he recognized the
landlord of the inn, advancing towardajtim with a
knife in his hand ; followed by another holding a
lantern Agonized by fear, the dreamer strove to
shriek- for help and mercy, but his tongue, refusing
to perform its office, slave to the roof of his mouth.
At this crisis his agitation awoke him, and he fouad
himself sitting upright in hie bed ; cold drops were
hanging on his brow, and he trembled as if an ague
titr. nor were his feelings much less unpleasing af
ter the first agitation had subsided. The church
yard and the dagger still haunted his imagination;
and, as he lay iu silent darknees, a thousand fear
ful tales arose to his rememberance, of travellers
who had fallen by the bands of assassins, and oth
ers who had strangely disappeared from the high
way, and whose fate was yet shrouded id silence
and mystery. 'ln justice to Colonel B.'s character,
which might otherwiselsuffer in the reader's estima
tion, from his indulging ideas so little consoliant
ivith his reputation as a soldier, I must remind him
that, at the period of my narrative, travelling did
not possess all the ease and accomcklation it now
enjoys. Stage-coaches were yet in their .infancy ;
the inns had sometimes a very ill name ; the roads
were bad. and occasionally frequented by such as
scrupled not at saying Stand to a true man; so that
a hang journey was then regarded, as a matter not
only of consequence, but even hazard. In these
days of peaceful travelling and " genteel accom
modation for man and horse," some ridicule would
justly attach itself to him, whose sleep should be
ilkutbed by an approaching journey; but forty
years ago, people might have dreamed of being
murdered in the road between London apd York,
without incurring the charge of unreasonable
To retain to my narrative, Colonel B---, tons
trig himself from these sombre meditations, made a
solemn resolution.to "dream no more," and, fat
ling into a peaceful and undisturbed slumber, he
awoke nest morning without a trace of the childish
feelings which had so lately agitated him. The
information he received on ari.ing, however, dad
not inc.ease his exit ilant ti(111 ; he had determined
to make the j:aimey. on lio.seback, attended by a
tavorre servant, but, to his great vesat ion, he
tound that the man had been taken sciinu , ly ill in
,noise of the mght,.and was now totally win
t,. proceed There was not inflow procure :m
-otile, attendant. and he was therefore 'obliged 10 ad
vale, alone. Ciihniel H.— -et oil. he 10-s of
to. en:n i t:onion ;it thieve a dam p over l h as spar
ts, but he beauty of the-mornin g. and the gaiety
the St . t•tit t . -n o n I Ps' Wt . I h it_ mind It. Its t.l onted
PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY, AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
..eo-ot% aod hr• rode gaily along. coryin L . ! the
fre-h air and .he bri4lll:.unAttne. Ile ease F 11 , e
city ; and now the aiyeatance ot the country. and
all Ole thou-and etrohanimenu• which et en The rrill
%cld and ,he litele..t , 1 , 1;010w...of Novernb r
note,. weir hi- 'Hie tender feelutgbarope bt
h.- rnoar. to. to. antiowateil Ito. approaching bap-
Isi sr rei.•,tno %%thl the beloved rux•oe'y he
144.11 e -tt . J ed from : and it tva, not
,1•.• 1 ; ••• qn • vo.rimencernetit of hip ,
j • - t. I. , Velle lln the Cireinn•
A ,it•:1 .lAti ,• .0 dir hint the preeed
11.4 II t• recr,lleoirm of hr
a l iiondn LIAVe In so
atirciell : e, not wl,ll.,landing the con
;en.p... ;mad e%en sna,ne, with which he now regar
ded hr-I,oltsh tenor-, el could not dwell upon
c „,• 0 „,;„,,,,,, a allow a certain
of a we, nor prevent a secret hope that
his lodging for the next night might not borderup
on a church-yard; nay, be even determined that
this should not happen, and that he would cautious
ly avoid every ihn from which a tombstone should
be visible. Not that he was by any means super
stitious: on the contraryi he knew few people so
free from credulity as himself; he only avoided
the fulfilment of the dream so far, lest, as was must
probable, it should excite a repetition of the night
mare, and that be should be sorry for. Having
thus former', and above all, accounted for his reso
lution, he dismissed the subject fronOis thoughts
and proceeded as gaily as ever.
And now the sun began to decline, and evening
to close in ; Colonel B—watched the bright orb
as it set belting the distant hills; and thsn, having
lingered till the last streak of gold disappeared from
the horizon, he quickened his pate towards a vii
' lege which appeared at distance, and where,
his horse being &tigued;'he hoped to obtain quar
ters for the night. The shades of evening were
falling thick around him as he entered the village;
the chill blast of a November night moaned through •
the trees, it was a lonely place, and the Colonel be
gan to doubt, from its wretchedness of appearance,
if it could afford accommodation for himself and
his horse. At length be thought he could distin
guish a sign-post in the distance ; he quickened his
EMI
BE
pace, and soon became convinced that he was rip
proaching.some house of entertainment; bet es he .
came nearer, a slight laming in the read disclosed
to him another cbject ; he started, and, for • law
momenta, felt more than he liked to own, even .to
himself. " Was h poieible I No it could not be;
the twilight had deceived him;' bat a few paces
convinced him that it was no delusion, for exactly
opposite his intended lodging stood the village
church, with its usual accompanment of graves and
tombstones. His immediate impulse was to pass
the house without farther hesitation; but, recover
ing from his surprise, he now began to reason with
'mself upon tl►e folly and impropriety of suffering
his ► agina non to be so acted upon as to refuse they
shelter tv h was thus afforded to him, and which ,
the situation o is horse rendered almost necessa
ry ; while by pate ling he risked , the chance of
being' fienighted in a 'iart, of the country entirely
unknown to him ; and what motive could lie as
sign fur acting thus? A dream forsooth ! a night
mare accastrined by a disturbed mind, or a hearty
supper ! No, an officer in the British army would
not allow himself to be led astray by every turn of
a distempered lancy ; he would enter the ►nn.
By the time this manly resolution was adopted,
Colonel B. had arrived 'at the place of destination;
where, having examined the house, his determi
nation bgar► to waver. It was situated quite at
the extremity of the village, and lather apart from
any other habitation; and, whether it' was really
so, or that the di-tempered state of his nerves in-
fluenced his judgment, he knew not, but it certain
ly appeared him that the place wore an aspect of
seclusion and gloom very unlike the air of cheer
ful comfort which usually . .oharacterizes an inn.—
"It is a mean looking place," said he, " and the
accommodations will be wretched."
lie looked again at the churchyard, and became
every moment more strongly convinced of the bad
accommodations of its opposite neighbor. "It was
a miserable plaice :he daubted indeed if he should
he aisle to obtain a bed them; it was evidently lit
tle more than a common hedge ale-house; and it
would only be putting them to inconvenience
should he attempt to stop." lie was startled in his
meditations by a dismal sound, harsh and discor
dant. " I A murderer hanging in chains, perhaps."
No, it was only the creaking of the sign -post over
his head, as the wind impelled it upon its rusty
hinge. The owner of the house now came for
ward ; a ferocious looking person, with an expres
sion of sullen malignity in his countenance; look
ed as if he had not been shaved for a month, and his
manners, if not decidedly uncivil, were so disa
greeable and abrupt, that if the traveller's resoln
lion had before began to falter, the sight of the inn
keeper soon overthrew it entirely; and, having in
quired the distance of the nearest town, which he
found to be very trifling, Colonel B. wave the spur
to his jaded horse, and theChureh-yard, the gloomy
inn, and the ferocious inn-keeper, were soon left
far behind.
Fate now seemed determined to atone for her
former unpropitious treatment; after riding about
half a mile, the traveller reached a town Whose
cheerful appearance afforded a contrast the most
striking to the lonely village he had just quitted.—
The inn, a pleasant looking place, stood surround
ed by other house- , , arid nothing like a church-yard
was to be descried. Rejoicing in his good fortune,
Colonel B. dismounted, and entered the house; he
wa- conducted into a room whose naturally pleas
ant aspect was now heightened by the braze of a
cheerful fire: the attendants were civil, the simper
excel tent, and as he enjoyed the luxury of his pres
ent situation, he blessed the 1 - timidly warn mg,
which, by exciting his apprehensions. however mi
neeessarily. had induced him to exchange a bail
lodging fur one so lull of comfort and convent-
GEM
The event g passed rapidly away. by means of
the usual amusements of a :urinary night at an inn,
eating and yawning; and; at ten o'clock, the colo
nel ,'estred to be shown to his apartment. As he
looked round the pleasant chamber to which he
was conducted, bis mind again reverted to the lone
ly inn. and its appearance ol desolation and ntisery;
but alhoulh acknowledging the superiority of the
quarrs he hail chosen, and never for a moment
repenting ol his choice. he yet could scarcely help
as the events of he day passed in review
before him. hi his present state of ease and se
runty, his spirits exhilarate l and his limbs at rest.
he marvelled that hi. mind could have been dis
turbed, or hi- actions controlled, by a cause so triv
ial and childish ; and the result of these. his calm
meditations, was, a secret resolution of never dis
clo.sine, the circumstance to a single human being.
He now began to prepare himself for bed ; while
he was engaged his attention was attracted by the
noon, which, shining,in all the lustre of a clear
aperture of the window curtain. Attracted by its .
beauty, Colonel B. approached the window to take
a more distinct view of the fair planet; when,
drawing asidethe intervening shade he Mood trans
fixed in shuddering horror, for a cemetery lay be
fore him, where the moon Islas gleaming white up
on graves and tombenoties„„itith a brilliancy which
rendered every object as clear as if he bad beheld
it in open day light ! For a few
_moments he felt
completely unnerved ; the dteam was again before
him, and he dwelt upon its strange fulfilment, un
til his blood seemed curdling in his veins ; and he
turned from the window unable to endure ilia ghat'.
Hy prospect it presented to his view. The loneli
ness of his situation, the church-yard, all seemed
accomplished, all but the dreadful conclusion of
the vision; he looked around-hint* gloomy der
pondency, till overcome by the horrors his isuagi
boa conjured up, he resolved to leave the house,
and had actually quitted bis chamber forcible pur
pose, preferring every alternative to passing the
night in his present situation, when the order and
quiet which seemecito reign throughout the building
only disturbed at isivtervals by the laughter of some
loiterers at the bar, once more recalled him 'lo the
absurdity of his apprehensions; and chiding him:
self for his cowardice, the Colonel returned to his
INIESZ
CCM=
itinuosicsa Oy plinntitivison raoll ANY et:urn:l.li
room, with a full deteliminatton of driving the dream
from his remembrance. and sleeping in peace.—
As a proof of his assumed courage, he now advanc
ed boldly to the window, gazed with a steady eye
Upon the scene without, admired the moon, mede a
few observations upon the effects of light sail anAle
and ended by whistling a tune moat perseveringly,
from beginning to end. Still he did not neglect
taking every precaution in power against the pos
sibility ofsurprise ; he fastened his door carefully,
examined every part of the room, and having pre
pared his pistols, laid ,hem by the side of his bed.
But notwithstanding the firmness of his iLsolution
he could 'not think of actually lying down without
a slight feeling of awe ; nay, he had at one time,
half determined to pass the night in an arm-chair;
which idea however he abandoned as too unrea
sonable to be indulged ; and shortly after. retired to
bed. leaving the light still burning. Overcome by
fatigue, Col. B. soon fell asleep, but his slumbers
vele broken and uneasy, and from these he was at
length awaked abruptly by a noise which sound
ed close to, it not actually, within his chamber
The agitated *me of his mind which all his phil•
osophy had not quite succeeded in calming, ren
dered every accidental sound a subject of apprehen
sion and he listened attentively, but all was again
silent and he concluded that the disturbance which
in the contusion of his thoughts, on awakening, he
fancied so near, had, in reality, arisen from the de
parture of some of the guests. His slumber appear
ed to have been of some continuance, for the light
was now expiring and its fitful gleam, as the blue
flames rose and fell in the socket, mingled unpleas
ently with the broad light of the moon. He was
summoning up energy to arise and extinguish it,
when he was again startled by the sound which had
awoke him. The lamp had given its last faint strug
gle, like a troubled soul clinging to the life it is
about to leave forever, when another light mingled
with the pale moonshine end the traveller now
perceived that it glimmered through a door which
had been so carefully concealed that it had entirely
escaped his observation, bat which was now open
ing slowly and cautiously Doubting if he were
not still under the influence of a dream Colonel B.
flied his eyes upon the aperture, which continued
gradually to widen, and he soon became aware
that he was no longer 'the sole inhabitant of the
chamber; the light, however, would not permit
him to discover the number of his adversaries ; and,
being ignorant how many he had to cope with, he
committed himself to the protection of Heaven, and
placing his hand upon one of his pistols, remained
perfectly still, awaiting the aPproach of his murder
ers with firmness and resolution. They paused,
and whispered together for a few moments; and
then, with slow and noiseless steps, drew near the
bed. There were two men ; and the former as
they approached bidding the other Hold up the
lanthorn." the Colonel perceiv'ed its dim light gleam
ing upon-a knife which he held in his hard. 'They
were now within a few paces of the bed and on
the event of that moment depended the fate of the •
Colonel; he felt that it did so; and, rousing every
energy to his assistance, he raised the pistol with a
firm hand., when, in the next instant, his antagonist
lay weltering, in his blood. The other immediate
ly flew ! and Colonel 8., springing from the bed
found that his aim had been surely taken, the bul
let having penetrated the heart of the asoassin. in
this man he recognized the landlord of the inn
Thus the dream was, in every respect, accomplish
ed : and by attending to the n.yste-sous warning it
conveyed. the traveller and escaped a dreadful fate
and had execu ed a just retribution upon the mur
derers.
Some years after this. the accomplice- who had
escape-1, was hconglit to ingtice, and hanged, for
a murder committed by himself and his master,
many years before. in the same house. At his
death. he made an open confession, not only of the
crime for m. hich he sphered, but also of his having
assisted his master in his attempt to assassinate
Colonel 8., from the commission of which act they
had been so mysteriously and st) providentially
prevented. The traveller himself reached home
in safety, though in a maze of gratitude and won
der; and, from t .at night. continued. as may be
easily supposed, to the end of his days. a devout
believer in dreams and visions of all species and
.descrip:ions
Ltruar.—Bad as may be the nature of
man still the honor fur noble deeds, the respect for
virtue, the abliorence for that which is ignoble or
base will ever influence bodies of men when acting
on first impulses. When the Haiti-it has perform
ed his pan—when the end is gained for which he
has been employed ; those whom he has most ben
efitted will cast him from them, and the very men
who had lured him to the deed, will spurn him as
if his touch were contagious, as is his very pres
ence breathed infamy.
There is a man tip the.cormtry who always pays
for his paper in advance. He into never had a sick
day in his Gk—never had any corns, or toothache
—his potatoes never rot—the weevil nevereats his
wheat—the frosts never kills his corn in the night,
and his wife never scolds. Reader, have you paid
the printer in advance
Bryn' AT Hoarc: — r• i shall be at home next Son.
day night," a young lady remarked as she fol.
lowed her bean to the door, who seemed to be
somewhat wavering in his attachment
" So shall I," was the reply.
Kr Let young people remember, that their
good temper will gain them more esteem and hap
loess than the genius and talents of all the bed men
that ever existed.
Thbre is a man down ewe who has snob a good
temper that be hires himself out in annum to
keep people cool.
Ettneoesu—A toast drank at a lats ealabtation
was—Ac Woman! ahe requires no ealna—she
speaks for herself!"
M!CP!
PT THE LATL WILLIS GITWSD
Somme. yet beautithl to view.
Mouth of my Aran t thou dawnest hems
With sad and faded leaves to strew
The Summer's melancholy tiler;
The moaning of thy winds I bear,
As the red sunset dies afar,
And bars of purple Clouds appear,
Obscuring every western star.
Thou solemn month! I hear thy voice;
It tells my soul of other day..
When but to live was to rejoice.
b i
When earth was love! to my gaze!
Oh, visions bright—ob. eased hours,
Where are their living raptures nowt
I tisk my spirit's wearied,powers—
I ask my pale and fevered brow !
I look to Natore,ind behold
My life's dim emblems rustling toned,
In hues of crimson and of gold—
The year's dead honors on the ground:
And, sighing with the winds, I feel.
While their low pinions murmur by,
Row much their *weeping tones reveal.
Of life and human destiny.
When Spring's delightsome inoments shone,
They came in zephyrs rum the West,
They'bore the wood.lark's melting tone,
They stirred,the blue lake's glassy breast;
Through Summer, fainting in the heat,
They lingered in the funtst.shade
But changed and strengthened now, they beat
In storm. o'er mountain, glen. and glade.
How like those transports of the breast
When life is fresh and joy is new,
Soft as the halcyon's downy nest
And transient all as they are true!
They stir the leaves in that bright wreath,
Which Hope about her forehead twines
Till Grief's hot sigh around it breathe,
Than Pleasure's lip its smile resigns.
Alas, for Time, and Death, and Care.
What gloom about our way they Bing I
Like clouds in Autumn's gusty air,
The burial-pageant of the Spring:
The dreams that each successive year
Seemed bathed in hues of brighter pride,
At last like withered leaves appear.
And sleep in darkness side by side!
Tire HeNGARIAN PEASANTeT.—There are few
countries in which the hamlets are so cheerful in
appearance as those of Hungary : the houses are
externally cf the most scrupulous cleanliness; the
whitewash is continually renewed, and the wind
ow-frames are generally painted in bright green.—
Tire doors are set deeply into the walls to throw
oil the rain, which in those mountain districts pours
down like an avalanche; and the receding arches
being neatly formed, give a quaint and comforta
ble look to the dwelling. A peep into the interior
is equally promising ; the white or chintz curtains
at the Windows, the coverings 'of the beds, and the
cooking utensils are all bright and cleanly looking,
but I never ventured on a closer examination; hav
ing received a hint of caution not to be disregard
ed, in seeing the maternal or fraternal care with
which members of the same family, seated on the
sunny side of their cottages, relieved each other
after the Spanish, of certain uncomfortable colo
nists.' The habitations of the German peasantry in
these villages may generally be distinguished from
those of the native Hungarians, from their convert
ing the enclosures of their cottages into gardens,
where gourds spread their golden fruit and broad
green leaves over the fences, which are formed of
w ithes neatly wrought in basket-work; and dahlias :
son-flowers. and other gay-colored blossoms flaunt
in the sunshine, interspersed with vegetables and
fruit-trees ; while the yards of their neighbors are
reserved as respectables for their agricultural im
plements ; a small plot of griound beneath the
windovifs being, however : in 'alrnos , every case,
appropriated to a crop of tobacco, which produces
a very pretty eflect with its long rich leaves, and
white lily like blossoms. Although a considera
ble quantity of tobacco, and that of very fine qual
ity, is grown m Hungary, it is entirely in the hands
of the peasants, and its culture demands too much
care, and yields too small a return, to render it an
object of speculation to the nobles. who, with their
hemp, corn, and particularly wood, realize agrent
er profit at a less expense of labor and outlay.—
, The City of the Magyar.
Nor BAo.—Dow, Jr„ in allusion to the exclusion
of many would-be-church-goers, from the sanctua•
ry, by reason of the high pew-rents in our " fash
ionable chute) es," characteristically remarks:—
"There is a high duty upon the Fashionable waters
of divine grace; and you have to pay at least a
penny a piece fi:r nibbling at the bread of life.—
To go church in any tolerable kind of style costs a
heap a year ; and f know very well that the reason
why a majority of you go to Belzebub is, because
you can't afford to go to Heaven at the present ex
orbitant prices!"
Tax Tiara -ro Rear.—How often Jo we hear
men excuse themselves for subscribing to a paper
or periodical, by saying they have no time to read.
When we hear a man .thus excuse himself, we
conclude he has never found finis to confer any
substantial advantage either upon his family, his
country or himself. To hear a freeman thus ex
press himself, is truly humiliatingand we can form
no other opinion than that such a man is of little
importance to society.
, Lnri Errinscsens:—Smill acts of kindness!
bow pleasant and desirable do they make life !
Every dark object is made light by them, and
eve 7 tear of sorrow is brushed away. When the
heart is sad and despondency sits at the entrance
of the soul, a trifling kindnessdrives despair away,
and makes the jasth cheerful and ph:avant
A Paornswc Sos.u.—" Won't 3101 sings song,
air I" said a lady to her lover as they were alone
one evening. The !vier soon commenced the
popular air, " I won't go home till mosciing. 6 And
sore enough-he did'st.
°Cr God don give a midi measure of faith toe
Brat saint, and a great. faith to a little ehrigian, that
each may esteem the mho; above himeni
___..
ocrogea
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a~ F s~,t~i<an~.
611/1
OEM
TratMO titan: -.- . - •
These amiable and peaceful inhinds, ihtrittr lie
_treated at all times with the . greatest, kie44.4 4 .
Milkers and others having** ear, Ind Manage
ment are often chargeable for inoch-of thatdillktol
ty they encounter in the proseeution ortheienesine-'
tire vacations, 'to their own indiscretiopibf *-
tempting to Forreet bad hgtrits byfir s :4nm rern4ates,
which serves only to
- confine the evil, arid•not un
- frquently become the source of Othetii tii:iiV no As
!tut iiity. of attention is capable to Criertothe et lanai
ty. Many a valuable animal has been naiad lay
harsh treatment, especially during thelini ' sea.ron
- alter dropiping their first ertil,:iithen they are patties ,
lady timid, and should, Franey:may be approach
ed and managed with the Mist gintle cite. It
sometimes happens that a degree of intermeacem .
ce or excoriatitin of the udder, itentsfoned • either
by an undue secretion of milk, or the sobs, of ;the
calf's jaws while sucking, produces restiveness,
and renders the oreration of milking. otte iit gteet
1. difficulty; but ender each ebrumslances the kind
entreatment should be adopted, and no beating or
flagellation, however light; allowed. Great tare
should also be taken to ascertain ; if poiriible, the
game or origin of the evil. Animals naturally dis
posed to gentleness, may, Undet such circumstan
ces be utterly ruined inn few weeks. Fastening ,
up the head. twisting the nose, and perhaps no less
objectionable and certainly no less cruel plarifice of
compelling the animal to stand on three legs tin
ring the operation of milking 1:-411 of which are
recommended by some,—orhonld never be practic
ed until all other resorts of a more gentle and toodi
fying.character have failed. ,- -
In milking great care should be used not io ex
cite fear or occasion pain. The folloWing article,
which we copy from one of oar eastern exchanges,
contains several valuable saggestioni, and should
be perused and pondered by every one who has
the management of eb*s. ,
g: Havinu milked more or less every season
since I was a " wee-bit boy," says the
_writer,
" and having seen it done so eootly as to injure
the cow, I propose to give a few rulei for it, which
I have learned from my own and Others' experi
ence.
•
. 1: Have you got a stool to sit on.
2. Have your finger nails pared short and smooth.
3. Sit down and clean the bag, and wet the teats
with the first stream of milking. '
4. Then set the pail under, and milking as fast
as you can conveniently—the faster the better. A
cove will give more milk when milked fast, than
when milked slow.
5. Milk as though the teats were full toithe last,
otherwise it makes them slow to " strip" in Italie
6. Never scold or strike a cow for running about
the yard or kicking. It generaily does more hurt
than good.
7. If she runs about, have patience—talk kindly
to her, and tie her up, as a last resort, till sbe is not
afraid.
8., It she. kicks, sit forward far enough for Your
knee to come forward of her leg, and she cannot
easily but you or spill the milk.
9. If she switches her tail, in " fly time,"' fasten
it by parting the hair, and tying it round her I n .-
Use a string, if the hair is not long eaough.
10. If she holds up her milk, butt with your
hands. What.else does a call butt for but to make
the mothir give down her milk ! •
We have only to remark• in conclusion s that by
'following the above rules, much trouble and per
plexity will be avoided, and tha most refractory
animal rendereilin a short time perfectly quiet and
Narm.coss HEART—When Bonaparte died, it
is well known that his heart was extracted, with
the design of being preserved: The British, phy
sician, who had charge of the wondrous organ, had
deposited it in a silver basin, among water, and re
tired to rest, leaving two tapers burning beside it
in his chamber. He Often confesses to his friends,
while narrating the particulars, that he felt very
nervously anxious as to the custody, of such a
deposit, and though he reclined, he did not sleep.
While lying thus, awake, he heard, during the
silence of the - night, first, a rustling noise, then ni
plunge among the water in the basin, and that
the sound of an object falling, with a rebound, '
' the floor— all occurring with the quirikness 0
Thought. Dr. A. sprang from his bed, and *
cause of the intrusion upon his repose was explain
ed—it was an enormous Normandy rat dragging
the heart of Napoleon to its hole. A few moments
more, and that which had been too vast in its am
,bitioo to be satisfied with the sovereignty of conti
nental Europe, would have been found in a mote
4iegraiie d position than the dust of Cesar stopping
a beer-barrel—it would have been devoured as the
gripper of a rat ! "To such vile uses must we
come at last !" .
When a crowd of gentlemen standing on a car•
ner, see a party of ladies coming, they should new.
er stand aside to let them pass, as it will be'ean.
sidered impolite 1 but by permitting thb ladies to
walk around th• t il they will get an oppmtunity of.
staring them iu • face, which is an evidence of
gentility.
; Nearly all the suicides in this coratry ars •try
- ituirignens Yankees rarely make way with them-
Selves—for nearly every one thinks he has a
chance of becoming President, and at any ratio, hie•
curiosity prompts him to live on just to sea what
he will come to.
Osottscr.—Dobbs says be has one* Ilmemsst
obedient boys in-the All be his to do, is to
tell him to do skits pleases, and be dose it• smat
Wing a vgnl•
bleu we like bastes; the axe blue they con-
Age ihe further you eau hew them. Ladies ere
JON violets, *O. =Olt etui rativiug-they -swear
the better you love therm
El
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