'YLII4.7SEM Z.O TOW AND A: tUtbncebag Morning, November 7, 1849 THE BELLS. ST IDOLS •. POl Hear the sledges with the bells— • Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells ! Hnw they tink!e, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle Wan a crystalhne delight; - Weeping time, time, time, To the uptinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, hells, bells, Bell•, bells . ; bells— From the jingling and.the tinkling of the bell 4. Hear the mellow wedding bells Golden bells! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the ha'my air of night How they rine out their delight !:: From the molten-golden notes, . And all in tune, What a liquid ditty floats To'ihe turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats On the moon ! Oh,from out the soanding cells, What gush of euphony VOIUMILIOU3 wells, • ow it swells! How it dwells On the Future !—now it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the- ringing Of the bells, bells, bells— Of the bells, hells, bells, bells, Bells. hells, bells— To the rhyming and the chiming of thebells! • Hear the loud alarm bells✓ t . • Brazen hells !. What ■ tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! In the ‘tartled ear of night How they scream out their affright ! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Gut of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic are, • Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire, . And a resolute endeavor Now—now to sit, or never. By the side of the pale-faced moon. Oh, the bells, bells. bells.! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! Dow they clane, and clash, and roar! W haL a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear, it fUlly knows, By the twanging And the clanging, • How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling - And the wrangling, How the danger bulks and swells, [bells— By the'sinking or the swelling in the anger of the Of the bells Of .the bells, bells, bells, hells, Bells, bells, bells— In the clamour and the clangour.of the bells' . Hear the tolling of the bells= Iron bells! What a world of solen!n tho't their monody compells! In the silence of the night. How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that 'floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people—ah; the people— They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who, tolling. tolling. tolling, In that muffled mon•-tone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone— They are neither man nor woman— They are neither brute n r human— They are Ght"uls:— • ' And their king it is who tolls:-- And he rolls, rolls r Ils, Rolls A pean from the hell! And his merry bosom swells With the pean of the hells ! And he dances, and he ; Keeping lime.lime, time, In a • in of Runic rhyme, To the peon of the bens— • Of the bell•: Keeping time time, time, In a sotl of Runic rhyme. To the ihmhhint of the Fells-7- Of the b. 11.. hell, To the sobbing of the hell s Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In a happy Runic- rh‘tne, ro the rolling of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells To the tolling of the bells— Of the hells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— To the moaning and the groaning of the bells I KIND W0RD 4 ,. .) NOT COST Mocn.—They never Lister the tongue or lips. And we have neve beard of any mental trouble arising from this (toas ter. Though they do not cost much-1 They help one's own nature. Soft words soften our soul Angry words are fuel to the flame of wrath, and make it blaze more fiercely. 2:Kind words make other people good. natured. Cold words freeze people, and hot words scorch them, and bitter words make them bitter, and wrathfnl words make them wrathful. There is such a rush of all other kinds of words in our days, that it seems desirable to give kind words a chance among them. There are vain words, and idle words, and hasty words, and spiteful words, and silly -word's,. and empty words, and profane Words, and boisterous words, and warlike words. Kind words also produce their own image on men's souls. And a beautiful !mage it is. They smooth, and quiet, and com fort the hearer. The shame him out of his sour, morose, unkind feelings. We have not yet begun to use kind words in 'mach abundance as they ought In be used-4asdial. It we would enjoy ourselves ;re mMst lake the '►orld as it is, mix up a thousand spine of sunshine --a cloud here and there a bright sky— a gifiri n da Y , Cah n to-morrow—the chill piercing winds of a llatalli, and the bland, revisits air of summer. . . . . . . . SHE . , . , i D . . ABR .' F _,, llO . . REPORTED; . • • , . . :, ~ • Thsrslock had struck midnight, yet still the seam at mss toiled on, though her fingers were long since weary, and her heart rad almost unto death. Her candle flickered low in the socket, and at last flat ed up as if about to go-out ; she rose, fit another, and still toiled on. T h e sleet drove against . the window pane, rattling like shot upon the frosty glass, and the step of the trusty watchman without was the soul sound:that echoed in the 'streets; the whole city lay dumb ; yet still she toiled on. She had a piece of work which it was necessary to fin ish by the next day. and so, though hungry, and sick. and spiritless, she was forced to toil on, The tread of .the watchman grew fainter, the tempest deepened, and at last the hour of one struck The scanty fire which had warmed that miserable apartment, had expired two hours before, and cold chills began to steal over the thinly clad inhabitant. She cast a wishful glance at the dead embers of the hearth, turned over ber work, to see bow much remained. and, sighing heavily, resum ed her needle. And thus hour after hoar that lone ly and friendless. orphan toiled on. Left fatherless and motherless, she tried to keep op a brave heart, and as long as health lasted had succeeded. But her incessant labors gradual) unde-mined her strength. Her constitution, over. tasked, gave way. She became thin and pale; and sometimes was troubled with a hectic cough. The severe winter, finally, had brought a tempor'ary.;ill ness, "during which her last penny had been ex hausted ; and it was not without great exertion, for work was scarce, that she had, on her recovery, obtained something to do. That which she had in hand was to be finished in:an incredibly short time ; but anything was better than starvation, and she had thankfully-undertaken , . the task. 4 The night wore on. The storm raged fiercer and more icy and the poor girl shivered continual ly. Still the piece of work was far from being fin ished. At last, tears began to fall upon her lip, at first slowly, then faster and taster. Finally she sobbed convulsively. She could not longer sew; her emotion was too great, so she laid down I)er work, and gave free vent to weeping. "O, Father in heaven !" she cried, lifting her clasped handei, and looking upward with streaming eyes, "is there no relief from this? Must I still struggle in body and soul! Teach me to say, Thy will be dolie !" Renewed sobs choke,( her utterance, and bury ing her face in her hands, she wept with a violence that shook the trail chair on which she was sitting. At last the tempest of her grief gradually died awa ; her sobs grew less frequent, and .finally, were heard only at intervals, tike those of a child which had erred itself to sleep. Exhausted nattre had liven away. She slumbered. And as she slept r-he dreamed 0 bless God for dreams! They come to .he head ul care, and pov erty arid a 0.111.-11, soothing the worn-nu: strug.er. and stringing the soul anew for the snite of the morrow The rtr h and pn,yerous know not what ure luxury of drerurang is. But in dreams the tarnished beggar sits at rctre lull board ; the bari,k nipt forgers tus shame. ahr,l surrounds his wife and children once more with w ealth; and the mourner beholds again a s, , ,ile of the loved one. and(claspe (t the wile or aught to his throbbing heart s ' She (beamed. It fits . . however, herdream was not a plein.ant one The actoat wove nsell ton , much it thr• ideal ; and her thoughts were still of , ;fi , t• ;• o•-• Ilt . PA , rl A .0111" I (.2 IA r t 41. t lU 11 was t, tlt•e t , ,hat. a. eve.) snit p•int dre. 11. r W lUI 11 . 0 ire anti rnore difficulty Yet ru. , 41w.4 at 1.4.1 ghe eonld swat ihe ilri ving...l,••.t a d ‘ca4it• thn neh the i:herb* .Ir,f;:. rill 1 0 r);.: - ; .1" f•X ed ,he .lowti As f4.le. ner “..? 1. w.,:v11 hid be '..3.•k of 11. • • •.Ir ver , I • CONI • I I' Air •in r e io..e, , A rn I 1 mule over her •• t,:es Sthe sli2l,lly, Fional are! m04t.1 wo , k_ like a (111,1 cant/ L s mother in tts eltirr. hers The storm meantime had ettaged without, and the wind, late ly so violent, now moaned low and plaintively, while the mu-icalchaunt of the watchman, crying '• three o'clock. and a starlight morning," sounded sweet and cheerful after the roar of the spent tem pest She was dreaming when she smiled. The waste of snow had disappeared, and The icy bank on which she leaned; and in their .place a field of fragrant spring flowers opened before her sight as she sat on a soft mossy seat.' The gurgling ot wa ters hum ing over the pebbles, and, the morning songs of the birds were in her ears. The dew glit tered among the grass, tretriblinacn the leaf ottbe rose, or pattered on the earth with slow, musical sound, as the breeze stirred the trees around her. A pleasant but subdued radiance was over the whole landscape; and oh! how light and happy she felt. Morning began to dawn, bet still she slept !—yes, blessed be God, she slept! The gray dawn stole into her room, at first timidly, lingering at the win dow, and nestling around her form, but finally ven tured further into the chamber, explorineevery cor ner, and penetrating into each . crevice as the mor• ning advanced. It was now broad daylight, _bitter cold was it, even in that morn; but the over•wea ried slumberer slept on. 'She had dreamed again ; and now she was happier than ever. For, as she gazed around the beautiful landscape, the light had seemed to brighten, and she saw two figures approaching her, band in hansj, whom she recognized immediately as, her fattier and mother. She would have sprung to meet them, but an in. vinctble, though delicious lassitude had stolen over her, and she waited tilt they came up. How • her heart beat when she 'saw them . soddenly behold her, and with a glad cry rabid forward and deep PUBLISHED- EVERY WEDNESDAY, AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. THE SEAMSTRESS. BY CHARLES J. PATTBRBON 14 REG6BDIIIIII op DENENCLATION ,FROII MIT QUARTER." her in their arms. A smile of exquisite delight wreathed her lips as she thus dreamed, and in her sleep: he looked like an angel. The dawn brightened. , The winter sun came forth, sharp and clear, and shooting into the room, brought everything out distipctly. Amy lingering round the head of the sleeper and glittered on her hair, crowned her as with a halo of glory, and made her look even more beautiful than before. At this moment the door opened, and an old VIO. man entered, followed by aboy. It was the kee. per of the house, attended by the lad sent for the work " Hcsh," . said the woman as she Paw her lodger. " Poor thing ! she has sunk to slee'pe_zbansted. It is a pity to awake her. " Are you sure she is asleep?" said the boy, in a low, thrilling whisper, as, advancing into the room, he obtained a full look into her lace. And he shrunk back. The woman started, looking wonderfully at the lad, and then, by a sudden impulse, crossed the room on tip-toy, and laid her hand on the shoulder of the sleeper. But the next instant she drew it quickly away as if the touch had shot an ice•bolt to her heart. " She is dead !" said the lad, awe-struck She is with angels—thank God !" said the wo man, bursting into tears. " I knew it would come to this, but did not think it would be so soon, or I might have saved her by sharing iny own scant fire and crust with her. But yet thank God !" Yes ! cold, and hunger, and weariness had done their work. • Her prayers had been kindly answer ed, and she bad found reliel! The dream had passed into reality; the reunion with her parents was not all a vision ; but at whemoment the:ideal had changed to the real, and the free soul " walk ed into Paradise," who can tell ? She had found rehe. But there are others. almost, if not quite, destitute, who will struggle and strug gle on. Is diem no one to care for these Fall Transplanting Mr. E. C. Frost of the "Highland Nurseries," Seneca Lake, New York, writes, in the September number of the Albany cultivator, on the subject of " Fall Transplanting" to the following effect: Persons' of limited experience differ in their opinions, as toihe relative advantage of spring and fall Tor transplaiiiing trees, while the most experi enced fruit grow l ers prefer the fall for hardy kinds. Some believe that the apple, pear, plum, &c., can be moved with the least injury in the fall; while the peach and apricot will succeed best in the spring. Mr. Downing says, in relation to the peach, —"North of New York it is better always to make plantations in the spring. South of that limit, i may usually be done with equal advantage in au tumn. My experience has confirmed me in the opinion that in our latitude tall planting for the peach is better than villa. if -et on dry ground; and they "honk, be placed on !loather. Oil the sth 6th and 9th at November, last I set in the orchard one t: ousand five huqdred. worked on peach trees: an I now. on examining them, find that all ate alive but ten; the trees are not only alive, but ate making a good growth, so that the rows can be seen hall a mile. I have sis.hundred peach trees, which have been in the orchard Irom three to five years, the most of which A ere transplawed in the fall, with success equal to those set last aetumn. The manner of preparing the ground, and treat ment of tho:.e set last fall, h.ie been as follows • The field we+ sowed with buckwheat last sea. son ; alter that was harvested, straight furrows were plowed' one rod apart, then furrows were run the other wad• the -ante distance; where the furrows en s-ed each other wait a mark for a tiee, *and the plowing. assisted in digging the hole.. The roots were !..et no deeper than the ploirzh run ; they were hided op a little more than would be required for p !art trig. Ea•ly in the spring they were examined to see whether all had kept their position, and if the frost tia.l siarieti any during the winter they were atten ded to. Ab',ut the middle of Jane each' row was the ame as a row of corn, with a two horse team, having a short whifflettee fur the offside horse; two men followed the plow, and hoed each tree. The groand has since been plouil clean and sow. ed with buckwheat, but none allowed to grow within two feet of the tree. This field occupies a highland t bleak position ; front being a level eminence, the balance sloping north and wes t. • REMEDY soft CHOLLSA.—The following valuable prescription far the elective core of the cholera has been - received from J. Booker, Esq., vice consul at Cronstadt, Russia:—" The principal point a to at tack the disease the instant it is suspected : take a stimulating dram, with peppermint, and a few drops laudanum; cover yourself up as warm u possible to promote perspiratior. ; apply hot substances, such As water brain; salt and even sand to the limbs, and pat - a mustard poultice over the whole ttomsch.— As soon as perspiration breaks ant, and the beat. ing of the pulse is restored, the complaint may be looked upon as conquerall ; if it is neglected till its last stage, to the above simple means, M. Booker says that no person need fear fatal consequences. Qtr. Every married man should_ let his wife have the management of the Home Department, and give her, as Secretary, the control of the dif ferent bureaus. ,fit won't do, however, to let her have the cohtrol of the Treasury or War Depart ment. Ammevi Uson Eaant.—ln sickness their is no band like a woman's hand-kto heart like • we., men's bean—no eye so untiring—no hope so fer vent. Womaa by•sick man's•eoach is divinity impenionastd. DOING Al% APOTHECARY. It will soon be a mooted question, to whom re ally belongs "the knife"—Dodge or Horn, for Dodge is every day " doing something rich, or "do ing" somebody very brown. Dodge has been laying on his oars for a spell, here in Boston, recruiting his health, he says: for, though he fattens others by tne laughing com pounds he gives them, the business , has made him thin as a rail, and empty as a flute. :Well, Dodge was going off a few days to the IVhite M Irritains, up in New Hampshire, and as these are consider ed cholera times, Dodge popped into a "Shotecary pop," to get somecholera medicine ; not that the complaint wouldcondescend to take hold of a body like Dodge, only, rays he, there's nothing like be ing on hand when the bell rings. " Have you got anything that's good for Cho. feral" says the incorrigible, addressing a ,sage, grave and reverend disciple of Esculapius, stand ing behind the counter in a dark store. " Well, ye -as," drawled the old 'uit, "1 have an excellent article for the chol-e-ree. It aint none of your molasses and ginger roots, but a rale good, warranted article;" and as Galen turned about to get Ins "tauff,'l, Dodge daubed his finger in a paste cup on the counter, and smeared it over a French soap label he had in his hand. " That's the article sir—good, I'll warrant it," says Galen, handing down several honks. " This, eh?" says Dodge, looktng at the labels, "That," echoes Galen. "flow muchia it, sir " Fifty cents." ft Well, that's not dear, if it's good ; you'll war rant it first. rate, eh?" says Dodge. Yes, I do; made it myself—know what's in it —twenty•two different things in that compound, and every one of 'em is good for the chol-a-ree." " Well, that's all right then, them," Dodge re plies; now let me see what you havegot for colds, coughs, and so on. I've been some troubled lately with a cough, and I'm going out into the country; the doctors tell me I ought to travel—too much confinement in town don't agree with me, so I'm to the country ; but I like to take a few medicines along, you know ; can't be had very easy. Peo ple don't know much about these things in the country, you know." " Exactly, sir, you act prudently ; nobody ought to venture in the country, sir, without taking plen ty Of good wholesome medicine along with them; that's always mkadvice." ( I .of course it was," thought Dodge. The old mtieine man fumbled in his drawers and cases, al brought forth sundry bottles of various sizes and shapes. and finally found the prescribed stuff for coughs, over which he duly delivered a warm and thrilling eulogium ; and during its delivery, Dot slipped a Mule of the cholera mixture into his — fists, pasted on the soap label, and enveloped the bottle in one of his stray programmes. " Well, you say this is good for colds or coughs?" says Dodge. " Good ! I -know it's good—made it myself—have used it in my own family every day these forty MIS " Don', tell me eo !" ephoes Dodge "Yes I do, too, and I warrant it; none of your Saispt flier slops, or Mrs. Tilley'e stuff, but the real op and down cough cold corer compound," sail; E 5121 "Mighty small chance of it in that bottle—pow. erful, I suppose, what there is of it?" observes Dodge. " Yes sir, I warrant ye its powerful stuff on colds and the Finn like," replies Galen. " Well, I take your word for it, sir," says Dodge, " but there is a mighty mess of stuff afloat now, in the medicine way, that aim good for much." " Exactly, a great deal of sugar and sweet oil, molasses and water, and sich like, but I don't keep none ol them stuffs about me; what I sell for medi cine I know to be medicine, and I don't sell any thing else," said the eloquent Galen, elevating his wrinkled front, and shaking his spectacles out of their place on the ridge of the old medicine man's nose. " 0 ! I'm satisfied, sir," says Dodge, " that your long experience and oteerration, in the practice and dispensation of medicine, mail have qualified you, amply for your business. Now, sir, here is an article I bought a few days ago, for cough mix ture, (here Dodge drew forth the bottle he bad ta ken from the medicine man's collection) lend me a mirk screw if you please—never mind sir, my knife will do—(with the knife he drew the cork) there, Sir, just taste that-.-what do you call , THAT." "That I" said Galen, smelling the bottle—" that, sir, (another smell) that sir, is brandy—(another smell and a taste) yes, brandy, very poor stuff at that, (another taste) yes, nothing but poor brandy, and a little camphor and peppermint P' ' "That's what I thought," says Dodge. "Now I'm alemperance man ; I never drink brandy or any other spirituous liquors, ander any pretence, so after getting one smell and alight taste of hot stuff l I oprked it up and laid it by." " That's right, sir, pertecdy right, sir. I don't be lieve in this mixing up brandy with medicine; all stuff'," observes Galen. , " So I think ; let me see," says 'Dodge--" what does the label call the stuff, anyhow F' " 0, some high kicky French or Dutch stuff—sa von sup—superfine, superfine savinge r of reckon it wants.to say," says Galen, handing back the decoction to Dodge, who requested him to pour the contents into his slop pail, which Galen did. " Well, I guess I'U be in this attatooon," says the incorrigible, "and get a few of your mixtures rather like them ; so I'll -bid you good -morn- tog." t , !Int. sir, I utought I put two bottles of my chol e-reeimixture on this counter here; didn't pm get me V' " Yee, 1 dud ' gd one, but I sari it bock to you," says Dodge, ;whoring up bif speckled cane: "I O'HARA GOODRICH. gave it-to you, and you've emptied the darned stall in your slop pail !" "Where's Boston'?" says Dodge, varnosing around the Mat corner.— Yankee .ladc • That Fire &gime. Some years ago, the worthy citizens of --, in the State of Aldine, voted in their united wisdom to purchase a fire engine. Thereupon as order was transufited to Ilunneman for one of his crack tubs, and a eompany was formed to take charge of i: up on its teception. But the most difficult matter in relation to the affair was to select a:proper foreman. However, after a na'ure deliberation, their choice was fixed upon Esq. W., a worthy exrepresentative and trader of the town, who had seen the machines in operation on one or two occasions ; during a transient visit to Boston. in due course of tune, the chairman of the board of selectmen received I; bill of lading of the engine, and in a few days after rumor announced to the company that the rdoop Suan June was coming np the river with the tub on board. T:.e b'hoys dropped their hoes, scythes and pitch forks and started for the landing. As soon as the sloop touched the wharf, they took possession of it, vi et armis, and snaked her on to the wharf. After carious conjectures as to the mode of operation of the critter, they attached the suction hose in order " to see her minim." At this moment the chairman of the board of se lectmen approached, and in a totie-of authori:y told the boys that the machine cost the town too much money to be plaYed with, and "they'd betteron hip that leather pipe before the foreman came or he would raise Ned with 'em." By this time the worthy_foreman (whciipon the first intimation of the arrival of the engine, had gone and donned his ruffled shirt and ref resenta five suu) arrived to asume to active dunes of his office. " Fall in, boys." he exclaimed, " man the rope two andtu•o ; Fin fo•eman, and 1 . 11 go shead. Now then, forward march." And off they started, up the hill, down " Rag ged Lane," over the Bridge, up to " Sleepy Hollow around " Dogtown Corn : " across " Ten Shares." and through every highway and byway of the town until their weary legs and the setting sun admon ished them that it was time to tie op. That was a great day for the town and the fore. man, and•for an hour after tea he sat and expatia ted to his wife upon the responsibillities of his sta tion. At length ho retired : and was soon in the arms of Morpheus, while hM worthy spouse lay r ide awake wondering when her valiant lord would have an opportunity to distinguish Her reflections, however, were soon disturbed by a bright glaring into her chamber window.— Could it be possible? There must De fire some where. " Husband, - husband," said she, " there's a ere." "Stalk her up !" shouted t h e new. foreman, half waking. " There's a fire, I tell you," said the. Poh ! lot it bum." . " There's a fire, and I am going td get up to see where it is." " ['shawl yr.n fool—you'll only get your deeth of cold.") " But I tell you there is a fire, shooting up like blazes." "They are only burning brush at Sleepy Hollow." " No, it is t'other way." " Well, I s'pose 'tis Trues brick kiln." " Why, good Lord it is Deacon Butmau's house up to Five Corners ! all of a light blaze !" •$ Well, get into bed, you fool, and let it burn ! Thank the Lord, one new engine is nowhere near il!" Csuan or THANlETriaEss.—The lOtto:Ting anec dote show the perseverance of some of the daugh ters of " Mother Eve." Besides one gentleman and two ladies,. traveliug in a stage-coach in Per- mart, there was a small, sharp-featured, black-eyed woman, who had questioned her companions to her satisfaction, and had nothing further to do, until the arrival of a lady deeply veiled, and dressed in mourning who was no sooner in, the seated, than little woman commenced her examination 'as fol lows, namely: have you lost friends V' " Yes I have." " Was tfiey near friends?" "Yes, they was." "Was they relations?" Yes, they was" " Was they near relations ?" " Yes, they was." " how near ?" "A husband and a brother."— " Where did they die ?" Down to Mobile: "what did they die with?" " Yeller Fever." " Was they long sick ?" "Not very." " Was they sea• faring men ?" " Yes they wee." " Did not get their chistir " Yes, I did." " Was they hope. fully pious ?" " I hope and trust they was,"— " Well, if you have great reason to be thaaktul." Hu tai character will not be boricealed. It hates darkness---it 'rushes to- the light. The most frg itiVe deed and word, the mere air of doing a thing the intimated purpose, enforce/we character. If you act, you show character; if yon sit still you show It. You think because you have spoken noth ing when others spoke, and nave given no opinion -on the times, on the chnroh, on slavery, on parties and persona, that your Verdict ii still expected with curiosity as a reserved wisdom. Far otherwise ; your silence answers very lord. You have no oracle to utter, and your fellow men bare' learned that you . Cannot help them; for oracles speak. Doth not wisdom cry, and understanding pat forth her voice I— on . , AN Enrrea's Jov.—The Iti hatond Palladium says that an Editor was recent! . elected to the In diana Legislature from Wayne , minty, wlio was so elated at his success, that he caught himself by the seat of his trowsers and tried to hold himself out at arm's length. It is added in a postscript, that he would have accomplished the feat if ballad not let go to spit on his hinds i They . wbo will =Woo ad for ono - . Om; know little of brim= character and prove that their hearts are ai coldies,their judipmeets are week. ME _ lOU CAN TAKE MY UAT BY UNCLE. TOBY We were once coming over the railroad from Viishintrun city to Baltimore, when we observed a particular sort of a man rinititt hard by—a tall, slim, good natured fellow, but one who somehow appeared to bear the impress ol a person who liv ed•by his wits, winter) upon his face. A friend, who was with me, nusw•ered by inquiry as to who he.was, and at the same time asked me to keep between the object of my notice and himself lest he should, come over to our seat : as my compan ion said that he knew him but did not Wish to re cognise trim here. • "That is Beau Hickman," said he, "ti man that is universally known in Washington as one of the Most aceoMplished fellows in the city —.always rea dy.to borritiw of, or drink with yon. He•never has any money, however, and 1 - am cutioits to know how he trill get over the road without paying, for he'll tin it in some way." " Probably he has got a ticket—borrowed the money to buy it with, or something of that 'sort," said I. " Not he, Beau Hickman always travels free, and boards in the same way. He never pays mo ney when wit or trick wit pass current in its place," said my friend confidently. "What a shocking bad hat ho has got on," -paid I obserriog the dila . pidated condition of his beaver. "It's some. trick of his doubtless, for the rest of his dress, you observe, is gyve genteel." " Yes, 1 see." My friend went to tell me how Bean had done his tailor out of a receipt in full for his last bill, and the landlady at his last ingenuity and He owed me ten dollars," said my - friend, "but in at. tempting to collect it of him one day, 111 be hang. ed if ho iiiirnt get ten more out of me; so I think I shad let the mat'er rest there, for fear of doubling the sum once more.'• At the 'same moment the conductor entered the opposite end of the cars, to gather tickets from the pisSerigers, and give them checks in return. Ma ny of them as is often the practice with navellerd, who are frequently called upon on populous routs to show their tickets, had placed theirs in the bands of their hats so that the conductor could see that they were all right,, and net trouble them to take them from their pockets at each stoppirig plaCe. ••• As the conductor drew nearer. Bean thrust his head out of the car window., and seemed absorbed in eniecoscenery templating the on that side of the road: conductor spoke to' him for the ticket—there w s no answer.' "Ticket, sir, - said the conductor, tapping him lightly on the al oulder. Beau sprung back into the car, knocking his hat into the road, and leaping it in one minute nearly a mile b?hin,l. He looked first towards the con ductor, then out of the window after his hat, and in a ruming fit of rage exclaimed : " What the d—l do you strike a man in that way for?' Is that your business is that what the com pany hires yon for?" " I beg your paidon, sir, I only want yout tick et," replied the conductor, meekly. " Ticket ! Q yes, it's all very well for you to want my ticket, but I want my hat !" replied Beau, bristling up. a Very sorry sir, really. 1 barely desired to call your attention, and I top,: the only means in my power," said the conductor. "Ton had better use a cane.to attract a penson's attention next time, and hit him over the head with it, if he happens to be looking over the other wan!" replied the indignant Beau„ 4 , Well, sir, I am ready to apologize to you again, iryou wish, I have done so already once," Bai!. the now disconcerted official. " Yes, no doubt, but that -don't restore my ptop erty that's gone." •4 1 Well, sir, I cannot talk any longer. I'll take your ticket, if you please," said the conduCtor. "Ticket! Haven't you just knAcked it out of the window, hat and all! Don you wantto add-insult to iniury 1" " 0, your ticket was in your hatband'!" suggest ed the. conductor. "Suppose you stop Ile train, and go back and see,'' said the. hatless Beau, with indignant aconi depicted on hi' face. " Well, sir, I shall pass you free over the road then," replied the conductor, attempting to go on with his duty. " The price of a ticket," said Beau, "is one dol lar; my tearer cost me aV! Your good sense will at once show you that there is a balance of $4 in my favor, at any rate." The conductor hesitated. Beau looked like a gentleman to one not perfectly well posted in the human face; he was well dressed, and his indig naiioa appeared more honest. " 111 see you again after I've collected the Wh ets," replied the conductor, passing on. Beau sat in silent indignation, frowning at' every body until the conductor returned, and sat down by his side. Bean Then, in an earnest under tone, talked to the conductor "like a father," and 'we saw the crest-fallen man, of ticket)! pay the hatless passenger four dollars! The trick was at once seen through by both my - friend and myself, and the next day, over a bottle .ot wine, Beau told us that he was hard up, bad'nt a dollar, picked up an old hat at Gadsbesin Wash ton, slasped his cap in his pocket, and resolved that the hat should carry him to Baltimore—and it did, with foikr doßan'in the bargain/ . AITI7OII. PRZMATION Mier numerous trials made by M B. Majlink with different salts ter the purpose of convening water contained in a tin vessels into ice, daring their solution be thi mately gave the preference to the mixture of four amtees-of nitrate of ammonia, four =WOW BO iarbonite of soda, and ; Jour ounces of 101 l wliqe with the mature of **hate of soda 'aid remistio acid, he obtained ice only alter seven home. ; I .'w EWA RMllltalp 10a