Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, April 27, 1850, Image 1

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TOW ANNA:
o atur bap filantittp;• `S oil V, 1850.
(For the Bradford Reporter.)
THE UNION.'
ST E. MASON
Colombians, thy country saw freedom unfold,
od not galiN by purchase with silver or gold
got blood of brave freemen was shed on the plaint
Defending that Union we now should maintain;
Then cease this vile discord, our councils to mar,
N upward ascending with with freedom's bright
Let ensigns of lirion be ever nnfurrd, [star,
tl,re peace to our nation and peace to the *odd.
Q ncemonarvhs of Europe, their forces combine,
To pot down Republics as treason and crime,
0 'et not Colombians forget their fair fame,
oar Vision in twain ;
end talk of dividing
Icturb not the ashes of Banker's hill lseight,
Where row sleep in union, the good and the great,
Tske heed to tbeir warning.take heed to their call—
.Vn.ted you stand, but divided you fall."
northward or southward to freedom grow cold,
kr:l not warm'd by friendship, like patriots of old,
Snaa ipirti of discord usurp reason's place,
and b rin g nn our nation both shame and disgrace.
told n ye freemen, forbid tl ye brave,
each lend a hand. his loud country to save, •
;:lin our f}thers, that fourth of July,
r: t rainta!nt our r nioA, or_fight 'till we die.
O'cease now this wrangling, this jargon and strife
Our Union is dearer to freemen than life,
D et not chose millions be now hath'd in tears
l a menting, the sadness that liberty waers;
3ulac: like our fatherr who freedom unforril,
Not merely for sell; but the good of the world.
them he thy councils like councils above
raa: cometh.to freemen with purest of love.
!:e Un.-‘111..^ cacred as freedom's first birth,
!.•f-eedlin slavery sent down upon earth,
, •t biess:tigs that heavenly plan [man.
'1 1 :e of.each state, and the ereat nghts of
?•eserv^ it ye freemen by pledging your lives.
p:edzing your fortunes, your honor likewise,
P . -t.err• it unsullied from shore unto hore,
Thatii,h monarchs may tremble, let freemen adore.
Experiences of a Mc ical- Eludent
OR THE VWTE4.
Some years ago, myself and fellow.student wen
11aaLsii for the summer months. An accident
ttt,cli we need not 'ielale, and which was follow.
-lty a severe attack oft he pelarinyi chained ri a
7 ,,,, 0 Pr to my room fur several weeks. :fly corn
a. 0. , n, whose name was St. Clare, was a young
:natio` :ugh spirits and lively temper ; and though
nsiuraiiy kind and affectionate, escaped, as often
Its be could, from the restrain'. of a sick loom. In
-ine of hrs walk%. he chanced to encounter a young
whom he Jell in love with as the phrase. is,
a: ties: sight. and whose Seauty he dwelt upcia with
a wanwh of g.:lMisiasm not a little tantalming to
are. like my. , ;elf, who could not . 3 eholi it. The
'ids!, however, quitted Dawlish very suddenly; and
my friend in ignorance of every other particu
lar concerning her than that her name was Smith,
and her residence is Londcr. So vague a direc
lon he, however, resolved to follow up. We re.
:timed to town sooner than we otherwise would
rare done, in order that the loier might commence
ha inquiries. My friend', Was worthy of the ro-
she bore—Melville G. Clare—a name
..,a; was the delight of all his boarding-school court
aiiir toe jest of all his r.cqu tintances in the
sc't , )ols. .
Ile was the gcle son of Thomas St. Clare, of
-e Hail• an..l banker N0.,--Lombard street. An
rcreatric man did the world account him. "Very
remarked the heads of the houses for whole
ist;e brideg, " that the old man should insist upon
his son studying medicine and surgery, when every
"Ile knows that he -wit) inherit at least ten thousand
a year." , t Nothing to do with it," Was the argu
ment of the father; " who can tell what is to hap
pen to funded, or even landed property in Eng-
And The empiric disease takes in the world ;
and in all its quarters, medical knowledge
:Dar be made the key to competence and-wealth."
Wade quietly discussing in my own mind the
ranous relative merits between two modes of ope•
ra'•on for political aneurism, at my lodging in town,
some three weeks after my return from the country
hills and rains, (some ungallantly add, of thick
klee also,) my studies Were broken in , upon
,a
:lesserrger, who deman.led upon my immediate
:ampliance with the arms of a note he held in hid
•
=and. It ran. thus;
Let me pray you to set of! instantly with the
bearer in my carriage to your distressed friend.
M. ST. CLARE."
Oa reaching the house, tile blinds were down
nd tt:e etniters'elosed ; while the muffled knocker
Sespoke a note of ominous preparation. " How
are you," I inquired, somewhat relieved by seeing
frrend up, and though wan looking, bearing no
:talks of severe illness. " I hope nett ingrhas hap
?vied 1"
"" Yes," the deadliest arrow in fortune's quiver
hi been shot, and found its mark. Al three this
Illtuirtg, my father's valet called on me to Pay
:is master was in convulsions Suspecting it . to be
aretum of apoplexy, I despatched him oil for
4 beroombie, and on reaching his room f found my
tear!. verified. Abercombie arrived. He opened 1
he temporal artery, and his senses returned, when I
y unfortunate parent insiated on informing me
eon arrangements he had made in my favor, re
!Petting the property; and on my suggesting that
:At books might previously require to be looked
• over, he interrupted me by saying it was useless
You are the sop ,ot a ruined man." I : stared,
" Yes, such have I been for the last twenty years!
shave secured to you a thousand pounds to finish
Your education, and that is all that calamity has left
410 my power to bestow." For some moments I
vas led to doubt his sandy. -
"What then can be contained within those two
massive chests, so carefully secured I"
- " Old parchment copies of my mortgages. Your
fortune Las only changed in aspect; before you
zero in existence, the atihor of your being was a
bettgar! My credit alone has supported me I
THE :' BRAIN I RD .'''' REPORTER
have with diffiCulty been able to invest in the fonds
for your wants the paltit sum i thenticned. May
you Prosper benpr than your father, and the bright
ness of your day make by for the dearness of his
closing scene. God's blessing—." Ills head
sank on the pillow, and falling into a comatose
state, he slept ibt four or fire• bona, when his
tnutsition irdtiz time to eternity wy.s as as gentle as
it was
_unnoticed.
"For my part, I merely remain :here Ulf the
last offices are perfOrmed. All his Whin* .will be
committed to the solicitors, then the fortune and
residence which I looked forward to enjoying as
my own mast be left to others."
" Courage, my dear fellow," said I , "there is
no .space too great not to allow of the tun's rays en
livening it—neither is that heart in eiistence which
hope may not inherit."
The funeral was over, the mansions of lath
er relinquished, and St. Clare himself duly forgot
ten by his [fiends. The profession, which be be
fore looked upon as optional in its pursuit, was now
to become his means of existence; and in order to
pursue it with greater comfort to arselves, we
took spacious rooms, which enabled us to live to
gether, in—street, Borough, in the neighborhood
of our hospital. One morning it so happened that I
had something to detain me at home ; and St. Clare
proceeded by himself 'to his studies. - From the
brilliant complexion and handsome countenance of
a former day, his appearance had degenerated into
the pale and consumptive look of one about to fol-
low the fiend for whom his sable livery of wo was
worn.
Give me joy, Dudley !--joy, 1 say; for life i%
bright once more !" exclaimed Si. Clare ; returning
late in the evening, while his face was beaming
with gl-dness. •
"1 rejoief to hear it," sa id I " What has hap.
pened :"
St Clare explained. Ho had met his unforgot
ten mittress of Dawlish. She hadintroduzed him
toiler father, with whom she was walking, and
whom he recognized as a Mr. Smith, an eccentric
and wealthy acquaintance of hiideceased'paren's
Mr. Smith .0 vited him to dinner the next city , . To
cut short my story. St. Clare-soon received permis.
sion lo pay his i t ddresses to the lady; 4 1 - i ; WO so
long secretly loved; and Mr.Sm kb, si:ho tiad orig
inally been in unde, and was at once swing and
generous, promised sixteen thousand porkdb to the
young couple, on the condidtion that St:Cl:ire would
follow up his professor'. The marriage was to be
concluded immediately after'St. Clare bad passed
the College of Surgeons; which he expected to do
in six mouths
Dudley, I have an engagement to-day, and
shall not he at home-until evening.," said St. Clare.
returning frdm the hospital one morning; " but as
we mdfit dissect the arteries of cbe neck somewhat
more minutely before we go op for examination.
1 wish you would get a subject. lam told you cm
have one Within two days by applying to this man,"
giving me the card of an exhumer in the'Borough.
" Very well," I returned, setting oft.
" Which will you have, sir?" asked a traff:Oer
in human clay, whose lineaments bespoke the to
tal abience of human feeling from his heart—" a
lady nr a jemman ?"
" Whichever you can procure with least trouble,"
I replied. " When can you bring it to my' lodg-
Ins r'
"The ,lay an?r to-morrow, sir."
" GooJ ! What is your price I"
ig Why, sir, the market's very high• just ricisv,.as
there'd a terrible rout about these things so I
mcst have twelve guirma.i."
" Well, then, at.eleven the evening after tomor
row, I ehall expect you." 1
The n?glit passel on, no CI there appeared—the
next, sfill he came net—and eleven on the lollow
ing evening found him yet absent. Surrounded
with books, bones, skulls and other requisites for
surgical stddy, midnight surprised me, when a gen
tle tap at the dOor put my reveries to flight."
" Two men in the street, sir, wish to see you
there.'
" Very well," said I, and recollecting the ap
pointment, I descended,
_and found the exhumer
and another.
1 , We called you down, sir, to get:the woman out
of the way : because, you know, these thiligs don't
do to gossip about. Shall we take it up stairs?'';
'• Yes, and I will follow behind. Make as - Little
noise as possib:e."
"No, sir, trust its for that—vre're pretty well used
to this sort of work. fern, give the signal ;" when
the party addressed, stepping into the street, gave.
a low whistle on hii fingers, and something ad
vanced with a dull rnstling . noise, which proved to
be a wheelbarrow containing a sack. They Lad
filled the guttbr with straw, and over this driven
the barrow. In' an instant two of them seized the
sack, and without I:nuking any more dis:urbance
than if they had beef walking up stairs, they ear
ned it into my apartment; and the vehicle it seas
brought in was rapidly wheeled off.
ft is moat for stddents to carry on their dissec
tions solely in the thektre td which they belong—
but as there are many annoyances from the low
and coarse set too often mixed up in these places,
SC Clare and myself • had determihed to Ohooite a
lodging where we could pursue this necessary, but
revolting, part of the profession, in private. With
-I,in my bed-room was a dressing 'closet, which, as it
w as well lighted, we devoted to thil pUrpose.—
Having'carried in their burden and laid it down,
they returned to 'the sining-room, through which
was the ot_ly communication with the other.
Could'nt get yea jemrnen, sowe brought yea
lady this time," skid the man.
"Very well. 1 hope the subject is a recent one,
bee - ease I may not be able to makii use of the body
for two or three days. - .
"As to th e time, she bad been li cried, sir, that's
none to speak of!". while a grui of ark ex presaion
gathered around his mouth; and tough ignorant
of ita meaning it made me recoil, from the air of
. horror it fluut. over features- already so
..t.t s' •
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA; BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
" asaLsoixso or Disiirounos 'Juni LIT traarzo."
• ,
revolting in expression. I went into the armlet to
take a glance at the subject, fearing that they might
attempt to deceive me. They had had it on the
table, and a linen cloth swarthid road 'sirik the
only covering. I drew aside the corner which con.
cealed the face, and staribd, for never till that in.
stunt, had I seen aught that came so near to my
ideal pictureof female loveliness,
eventhirrigh the
Nit touches had been painted by the hand'of death.
As the :light of the :candle fell in the shrouded
figure before me, it composed the very scene that
Rembrandt wonld have loved to paint, and you, my
reader, to hale looked on. Her hair was loose
and motionlais, while it whole length, which had
strayed over the neck and shoulders, nestled in a
bosom white as snow whose pure, warm tides
were now at rest forever! One Thing struck me
as singular—her rich; dirk tresses* till held within
them a thin, Might comb. An oath of impatience
from the men 1' had left in the next room drew me
from my survey.
"Where did you get the subject; my men?"
inquired, as I put the money into the mad's hand
"Oh, we hadn't it from a town church-yard, sir.
It carne , up from the country; did'nt it, Jena I"
"Yen," replied the mid addressed, and both
moved quickly td depart, while I returned to gaze
on the beauteous object I had left, and which af
forded me a pleasure, so mixed op with all that was
horrid, thatj sincerely hope it will never fall to my
lot to have a second experience of the same feel-
To me she was nothing, less than nothing; and
though, from long habit, I had almost brought my-
Benito meet with indifference the objects which:are
found on he dissecting table, I could not gaze on
one so young, so very fair, with feeling the
springs of pity dissolve within me; and tears, fast
and many, fell on . lips I refrained not from ku.sing,
notwithstanding mortality had set its seal upon
theni; as yet—
Before decay's efracing fingers
Had swept the lams w here beauty !Inger*.
Her eyes were closed beneath the long lashes.—
I lifted one lid ; the nrb beneath was large and blue,
but "soul wag wanting there." So great was the
impression het beauty made upon me, that, step
ping into the next room, I took my materials, and
made a drawing of the ;placid and unconscious
form so hushed and still. Hooked upon it at this
moment, and fancy recalls the deep and unaccoun
table emotions that shook tiro as I made it. It
must have been an instinctive--; But to pro
ceed : I saw but one finger to my, sleep—the love
ly that felt so moist and cold against my face?—
where was 1? what light was glimmenng through
the Windows? It was the ~break of day. Worn
with fatigue, I had falliri asleep over my drawing.
while the candle had burned out in the socket, and
my head was resting on the inanimate breast which
had been deprived too soon of existence to know
the pure joy of pirlowing a fellow-heart it loved.—
I arose, and retired to a sleepless couch. In the
evening, while over my modicum of coffee, in
came St. Clare
,He appeared haggard and wild.
whilst ever now and then his eye would gaze on
vacancy, and closing, seemed to shut out some un
pleasant tbou_ l hts that haunted him in ideal reality.
" Well, St. Clare. ,what has detaine t d you r'
" Death !" said ire, solemnly. "The sole ie.
maining relative to whom Nature has given any
claim on my affections, is r o more. A mother's
simer, and not a soul is left me ncii on earth to
love, save Emily and my friend. I feel most un
accountably oppressed—a dread sense of ill per
vades me ; but let me hope that ill is past."
" Well, think of it no more,',; I replied, and
changed the conversation. "I have procured a
female subject, beautiful and young; but I feel
more inclined to let it rest and rot amidst its fellow
clods ofclay, than bare so fair a bosom to the knife.
It is well that the living held a pre-occupancy of
my heart, or such a beauteous form of death—"
"This note has just been left for you, sir, from
Mr. Smith ; who requests an immediate answer,"
said my servant, entering. I read aloud its con
tents:
"Though unknown in you, save by name and
the mention of another, I call upon you as the
friend of one who was my friend, to assist me in
unravelling this horrid mystery On Tuesday at
two, my dearest Emily went out with the intention
of returning et fo Since that hour, I hare been
nnable to obtain the slightest information respect
ing her. 1 have called in your absence for St. Clare
twice; he was unexpectedly out. Surely I have not
mistaken him I Ne caanot have nett up the meas
ure of mankind's deceit, and abused the trust re
posed in him ! Let me pray you, for the love of
IleaVen ! to give me the least clue that you are
possessed of that may lead to her discovery.
I know not what r have wijnen, but you can un
derstand' i 6 meaning. Yours,
d • .>
'San? ortirrli.'
Starting from hie seat with an 'air of a maniac,
St. Clare abstractedly gazed on empty air, as if to
wait confliction. Too soon it came, and seizing a
light h^ dashed towards the closet where he knew
the body was to be. For the first time a dark sus
picion flashed upon me, and taking the other can
dle I followed. The face had been again covered,
and St Clare, setting the light upon the table, stood
transfixed— just as we feel the pressitre of some
night-mare dream—without the rower of drawing
his eyes away, or by dashing aside the veil, toend
this suspense of agony, in the cittrtgigity of desrair.
Every muscle of his body shook, while his pale
lips could only mutter—" It must be so? it must
be so!" end his finger, pointed
. 16 the shrouded
corpse, silently bale me to disclose the truth. Mute,
motionless horror prevaded me Throughout: thfu,
springing from his trance, he tore . away the lin,en
from the features it concealed. One glance suffic•
ed. True, the last twenty-four hou had fobbed
them of much that was lovely , but t hey were cast
in a mould of such sweet expression tbuirmce seen
was to be remembered forever.
Cut nod wildness he dung himself
upon the body, and embracing The pallid clay,
seemed vainly trying - to kiss it back to life. I
watched
.his countenance till became so pale,
here was:only one shade of difference between the
two. In an instant; froth the strained glare, of his
fited glance, his eyes relaxed, and a lifeless inani
mate expression of nonentity succeeded their for
mer tension, while with his hand will retaining the
hair of the deceased in his pasts he sunk upon the
grOund.
Assistance was called, and from a state of insen.
sibifilitt he gaseed into one of depreision.
IiII our efforts to disentangle the locks he had so
wanly loved, from his fingers were in vain—the
locks were, therefore, cut off from the head.—
Through all the anvils - It of his soul he never spoke.
The last words to which his lips gave utterance
were these—" It mast be so, it must be so." For
bouts he would stare at one object, and his look
was to me so full of horror and reproach t could not
meet it.. Suddenly he would turn to the hair, and
fastening his lips upon it, murmur some inarticulate
sounds, and weep with all the biuemess of infan
tine sorrow.
The reader will remember it so chanced thot f
never was introduced to the heroine of my tale ;
bat all doubt was uow removed as to the identy of
the subject for dissection with the unfortunate
Emily Smith. Ar lie , : she camp by her death was a
mystery that nothing seemed likely to unravel.
Not the slightest marks of violence could be
found about her person. The arms were certainly
in an unnatural position, being bent with the palmt
upward, as if to support a weight ; and . seemed to
have been somewhat pressed, but this might be ac
counted for by the packing the body. All besides
were the appearance of quiescent death.
She was opened, and not the slighest trace of
poison presented itself. Immediate search bad
been made for the men. They had absconded and
all apparent nneans - ol inquiry seemed hushed with
the victim of science in it its grave.
Some years passed : SL Clare was dead ; the father
of the unfortunate Emly was no more. Foitone had
thriven with me, and being independent of practice,
1 had settled in the west end of London, and mar
ried the object of my choice. I was soon occupied
with the employments of my profession, and
amongest the rest that of surgeon to the —Dis
pensary.
Seven years tiller my first commencement 1 had
to attend to a poor man who was attacked with
inflammation of the brain. The violence of the
disease bad been subdued, but some strange/wan
derings of delirium still haunted him. In a paroxysm
of this sort he one day exclaimed to me, as I was
feeling his pulse; " Cut it off: Cut it off! it says so;
off with it r , Paying no attention to this, I replac
ed his arm within the covertid, but dashing it out
he seized mine, and demanded—" Does it not say
if the right hand oflend,thee, cut it off !"
" Yes my man, but fotrit: is a useful member—
take my advice and keep it on ?"
" I will not; it has offended me; aye, damned
me to eternity. It is a murderous right hand !"
But,l will not drag the reader through the incbher
ent ravings of guilty delirium ; it suffices to say,
that after some considerable pains Z elicited the
following story from him.
" It's just ten years to-morrow since waA dis
charged from four months' imprisonment. in the
house of correction. I was then just twenty. In
the same place I met a gang of resurrection men;
and they said what a jolly life they led, plenty of
money and all that, when one of 'em told me the
rest what they did,and if so be ishow they could'nt
split he'd tell 'em. Well after making me take an
oath (I tremble now to think of it) that I wouldn't
tell, they let me into it. This was to kidnap all
the greenhorn; that didn't know their way about
town, and carry them to a house the gang had in
alley, near Blackfriars, where they Were to be
suffocated, and &XI to you doctors for euttir.g up.
Well, it took a long time" to bring my mind to such
a thing, but they persuaded me we Were all des
tined to go to heaven or hell, before we were born,
and that our actions had nothing to do with it. So
I agreed, when the time came round, to enter the
gang.
On the day we were :et loose there were four of
us loitering near the coach Stan 3 in street. A
gentleman was walking up and down before an
inn, rooting af his watch every now and then, and
casting his eyes round to see if a cowl was com
ing which he seemed to expect. Presently ho
Met florin one who knowed him, and I saw him
take a letter and read it, and then say to the other,
I can't come this instant, because 1 expect a fnend
in half an hour, and must wait for her; but stay;
Icon write a note, and pct her off, when he step
ped inside the inn, and came out in ten minutes,
with a note in his hand. One of na bad been a
servant in a cutting-up house in the borough, and
Gnawed him afore ; stepping up, he askjd if he
"could carry the note for him 7 The other was in a
hurry, and said, yes, giving' him half a crown to
take it into the borough', and thingot into the coach
and drove off. Instead of going with it, he had
teani't to read and breaking the note open, found
some one was coming to meet the gentleman by
half-past two. "I'll tell ye what, my boys," says
he, "here's a fish come to our net without looking
for it, so well have her first." Shortly after, np
comes the coach with a lady in it. meanwhile,
One of our gang had got another coach belonging '
to us for the purpose, which was in waiting; so the
villain tells her the gentleman had been obliged to
go somewhere else, but he was an oldservant, and
if she would get into his coach, he would drive
het' ro the house where the gentleman was waiting
to receive her. She, never suspecting, got in , and
was driven off to the slaughter-house, as we called
. it. She entered by a back yard, and frightened by
the dark, ditty way and lonely 'poking rooms, and
Trot seeing him she expected, site attempted to run
off, but that was of no aim ; and taking her to a
moat for the purpose, in the middle of the house,
Viberomo one could hear her scretainiitg, she was
locked up for the night. Well, I was uncommon
struck with her beautiful looks, and begged very
hard to let her go—they said it would not do, be
cause as how they would all be found oat. So die
she Must the next order- they bad for a corpse..r.
That very night came an order, and thy swore I
should: have the killing of her, for being spooney.
enough to beg her like. I swore I would dot do it;
but they said if I didn't they would send me in
stead, and frightened at their threats, I agreed.
In the room where she slept was a beJ, with a
sliding top to let down and smother the person who
was lying beneath, while the chain which letdown
was fastened in the room above. They had given
her a small lamp in order to look at her through a
hole, that they might see what she was about
After locking the aim inside (for they left the key
there to keep her easy, while it was bolted on the
out) and looking to see there was no one: in the
room, nor any other door she knelt by the bed-side,
etid her prayers and then laid down in her clothes.
was at ten—they watched her till twelve.—
She was sleeping soundly but crying too, they said,
When they took me up into the room above, and
with a drawn knife at my throat insisted on my
letting go the chain which was to smother her be.
neath, I did it ! Oh, I did it—hark I starting up,
don't you hear the rustling of the clothes? a sti
fled cry I No, all is quiet! She is done for; take
her and sell her !' " and from that he fell into his
old raving manner once more.
The next day he was again lucid, and pulling
from his bosom an old purse, he said—" I man
aged td get these things without their knowledge."
It contained a ring with a locked engraved 7.-E. S."
and the silver plate of a dog ' s-collar with the name
of " Emily on it. "That," he remarked : "came
from a little Spaniel which we sold." _
I had made a finished miniature from the rough
drawing taken on the srst evening of my seeing
Emily Smith. This had set in the lid of a snuff
box, and anxious to see if he would recognise it. I
silently placed the snuff-box in his ban!. flit
mind but barely took time to comprehend and
know the face, when flinging it from him with a
loud cry, his spirit took its flight to final judgment ;
and I vowed from that day a renunciation of the
scalpel forever.
[ From the Louisville Jowl:sal)
SPRING
BY J. R. BARRICIC
The winter winds and storms are past.
The sully blasts are blown,
The coke of spring is heard at L=l,
In blithe and joyous tone;
The tittle streams, from frost set free,
With gladdening music sing;
The south wind comes with songs of glee
To welcome in the Spring.
The heart of, earth its foliage wide
Unfolds likesummer's rose;
Through wood and stream a'quickening tide
Of life and beauty flows ;
The light of May is on the sky,
Its sunshine on the wing,
While winter's shades and shadows fly
To welcome id the . Spiing.
Th.e flowers arc gently springing up
On hillside and on lawn,
The daisy and the buttercup
~. Breathe in the balm of morn;
'he rills and brooks soft-answer make
To birds on soaring wing,
The mingling strains of nature wake •
To welcome in the Spring.
I list me to the cheering song
ATV robin and the wren,
The mocking bird and jocund throng
Of warblers in the glen;
The winds and zephrys too rejoice.
While every living thing
On earth notpoars a grateful voice
To We!Come in the Spring.
4 Meta* Story;
One winter evening a country storekeeper in the
Green Mountain State was about closing his door
for the night, and while standing in the snow out
side, putting up the window shutters, saw through
the glass a lounging, worthless fellow within. grab
a pound of fresh butter Iron the s' elf, and con
sealed it in his hz.t.
The act was no sooner detected than the revenge
was hit upon, and a very few minutes found . Cie
Green Mountain storekeeper at once indulging his
appetite- for fun to the fullest extent, and paying
off the thief with a facetious sort of torture, for
vrhich he would have gained a premium from the
old inquisition.
" I say, Seth !" said the-storekeeper, coming in
and closing the door alter him, slapping his hand
over his shoulders, and stamping the snow off his
Seth had his hand on The door, and liis . hat upon
his head, and the roll of butter In his hat, anxious
to make his exit as soon as possible.
" I say. Seth, sit clown; I reckon now on stall
an eternal night as this, a little somethin' warm
wouldn't hurt a fellow."
Seth felt very uncertain, he had the butler and
was exceedingly elisions to be off, but the tempta•
lion of something warm sadly interfered with- his
resolution to go. This hesitation hOwever, was
soon settled by the right owner of The butter taking
Seth by the shoulders and planting him in a seat
close to the store, where he *as in such a manner
cornered in by the boxes and barrels, that while
the grocer stood before him there was no possibili
ty of getting out, and right in this vcry place sure
enough, the More keeper sat down.
" Seth, we'll have a little warm Santa Cruz,"
said the grocer, as he opened the stove door, and
stuffed in as many sticks as the place would admit;
"without it you'd freeze going borne such a night
as this."
Seth already felt the butter settling down closer
to his hair ; and he jumped .up declaring he must
go
'u Not till you hare had something warm, Seth:
come, Fre got a story to tell you too ; sit down,
now,-and Seth was again pushed into his seat by
his tuning' tormentor.
i• Oh! it's to darned hot here," said. the petty(
thief, attempting ,to rise.
"Sit down—don't be in such a plaguy hurry,'l
retorted, the grocer, pushing him back in his ohai4
But got the cows to fodder, and the wood td
split, I must be going," said the persecuted chap.
But you mustn't tear yourself away, Seth, in
this manner. Sit down, let the cows take care of
themselves, and keep yourself cool; you appear
to tie a little fiagety," said the roguish grocer, with
a wicked leer.
The next thing was the production of two amok- .
ing glasses of hot rum toddy, the very sight of
which, in Serb's present situation, would have made
the hair stand erect upon his heed, had it not heed
well oiled and kept down by the butter.
Seth, I'll give you a trait, now, 'and youu - cari
butter it yourself," said the grocer, with an .air of .
such consumnlate simplgity, that poor Seth be
lieved himself unsuspected. Seth, here's—here's
a Christmas goose, well roasted, eh I tell you,
it's the greatest eating in creation. And Seth don't
you never use hog's fat, or common cooking butter .
to bairns it with—come, take your batter-4 mean
Seth, take your toddy." -
Poor Seth now began to, smoke as well as met',
and. his mouth was heremetnealiy sealed up, as
though he had been born dumb. Streak after streak
of the butter came pouring from under his hat, and
bis handkerchie was already soaked with the
greasy overflow. Talking away, as if nothing wa›.
the matter, the grocer kept stuffing the wood into
the stove, while poor Seth sat bolt upright, with his
back against the counter, , and his knees almost
touching the red furnace befoie.i . 0 -;
" Plagney cold night, said the grocer.—
"Why, Seih,•you seem to perspire as if you were
warm! Why don't you take your teat a! Here,
let mo put your Lai away ?"
"No exclaimed poor Seth at wiqi a spas
modic cffi.irt so get his tongue lose, clapping both
hands upon his hat. " Na, I must go; let me out;
I ain't well; let me go:'
A greasy cataract was new pouring down the
poor mane face and neck and soaking into - his
very boots; .so that he was literally in a bath of
oil.
" Well good night, Seth," said the hurnerous
Ternionter, "if you will•go?' arid adding, as he
arted out of the door, " I say, Seth, I reckon - the.
fun I've had out of you is worth a ninepence, so I .
ehan't charge you fur that pound of butter in your.
hat." •
Young Men.
What are you . doing fer the improvement of
your minds? Are you aware that you are on the
great tallway of time, rushing and_ whirling past.
the station of youth ? The world is all before yt.o
—it is . yours—God gives you a lease ofit !—You .
see the philosophers, the statesman, and the 'teach
ers of the present time—are there places to be fill
ed! What mean those telegrapfipostslavd wires?
those cars and boats? . those fast printing presses !s.
They are monuments of genius—the genius of Men
now paSsing away. Up—bestir yourselves, a ala a
fi-na purpose andg stern resolve to penetrate still.
farther into the, arena of nature, and open to human
grze mysteries unrevealed from the foundation of
the world. Prove the nobility of your nature, by
deeper (livings into scientific research, by a higher
flight of genius, and by a wider range of thought.
iShall the mind of the succeeding age be charged
with effeminacy or imbecility? These gcestione
I
Iwe cannot answer. Young men—their answer de-_
! pends upm you. We see what has been done in
• fifty year:: we are staggered by the sight, and ex
claims-how slight a prospect - of such a vision in
the 'lnure ! Who are to be the men of eminence
in the age before us? Not you who are lounging
there on. the sidewalks, or in the streets—not you
who are spending your time with boisterous com
panions, repeating unmeaning gibes and senseless
Ijokes—not you who are wasting the midnight MI
ovet Eugene Sue and Paul deSock —not you who
frequent the bowling saloons and bar-rooms. No
- 7 . you must pass through a -different discipline; you
must bend down the undivided energies of your ar
dent souls'to tke persevering, unremitting and la- .
, la
borious. study. You must acquire an intimate and,
; thorough acquaintance with the world, discover the
hidden intricacies of-human character, and acquaint
yourselves'N the operation of natural laws. Yoe
must bring truth from chaos to the golden sunlight
of order and system.., This has been the work of
the mighty minds fif' the last century.
Say you that ymi have no time for this? that
your hears arc theke cf toil? that the workshop,
the counter, and the miil demand your time? .So
they do—but that toil will indurate mind as well as
body. It is the anion of manual and mental toil,
that makes the iron men who grasp th mighty
thiggs of the universe. You indulge, thean idle
1 ,
whim. The mind can be revolving' orerght • things,
white the hands are in "motion. In your leisure,
even if it be in the silent hours of night, . eed the
immortal mind with food worthy of it, and. the
hours of toil v. ill be cheered by the light of. intel
lect. The mighty mind of Franklin gave birth to
t sublime imaginings, even while at the compositor's
case, and thipmssman's lever. Learn to think—
think deeply that you may act-wisely.
.- "
L ' I say Cully," cried two di.lintiug darkeys,
ap
pealing for a decision to a sable =pito, " which
word is right, 4 ly-zactly or de-zactly 7"
The tabie umpire refected • a t•.ioment ; and then ®
with a look of deep wisdom ; Raid - 4 ' I can't ;tell
pre-ractly."
. Experimental Philosnpliy is said to be asking a
young lady to marry you. Looking indiflerent and
saying you were only in fun when she refuses you
is natural philosophy. Committing suicide under
like circumstances, is moral philosophy.
recently heard a gait] awry of two' persons'
engaged to fight a duel. After the first fire; one of
the seconds proposed that they should' shake hands
and make up. The other second said that he saw
no necessity for that, for their hands had r ,been,
shaking k ever sinze they began.
They are as tondo' titles in the East as we are
in the great West. Among hitt other high-sounding
titles, the Wine of An bas that of "I"rd of Then
four Umbrellas." This looks as if be - had repare,l,
himself for a long reiri.
Vaitinti4 'V.