T.:17. 1 1113 220
IP=
TOW AND A:
Oautrban illoutinD, November it), 1850.
THE RAILWAY.
The`•silent glen, the'sunless stream ,
To wandering boyhovd dear.
And treasured hill m many a dream,
Tht-y are no longer here;
A huge red mound of earth is thrown
Across the so urild and lone,
'Phe stream se. cola and clear ;
And lightning steed and' thundering sound,
Pass hourly o'er the unsightly mound.
X& this alorie for many a mile
Along that iron Way,'
No verdant banks or hedgerows smile !
In ,stimmer's glory gay ;
Thro' chasms that yawn as though the earth
Were rent in some strange mountain birth,
Whose depths excludes the day;
We're borne away at headlong-pace,
To win ,from time the weary race!
The waysideTnn, the homelike air,
Ne teener tt-mpts the guest.'
'To o taste its unpretending fare
Or seek its welcome rest.
Tue piancing team—the merry born—
The cool fresh road at early morn—
The coachman's ready jest;
Al', 'A ' to di.tatit dream-land gone,
shrieking crakos are hurrying on._
Yet greet we them with thankful hearts,
. eves ;h;.t own no tear,
nothing nor, the space which parts
The distant fr'm the dear,
Thr Wele that to her ch•risnrd nest
mr the trrd's exult.ng breast,
Hi f‘sond its rival here,
like her's e•too tan haste,
'f Ire bl:ss of incetlng hearts to taste.
For r^a I car." the line
1 approaching train,
A deem it still. 'mixt me and mine,
A r'o to but aelcome
I us in a 11'01 Id , Wrl.llse Uri
! , ..ur to Fever inexr
Uri h. re may try in vain :
r,32: us twor'e man . )• an art
to keep apart.
THE CHIA - Ars FAITH
tv Ist: Isic et - rt 1:& coat s:h.
I : , etc bov, a li:tle clulil, of; th, , e‘e
Ight creatures whose
c.st ,isems mete of heavea than of earth—
• , 2:mtpse stirring our hears. ail.'
• 1!le-Y1 cri pirer and linker thought. Bc
• ••• !• rra:.cte was more of a t cherub than
:... e Ilicm—with hip glaibtithe
-tatmess, his c foster ing.guk.l
• 1.- :40i+. Snrh he rralr, at
heavy '114141- on him :
• 1 ••••• :tt•cr Jane al burn i:ig. r - a r -nn;- ,
vi ea() tilt? /111:1.!11.111,1
11:(V.Ionlef.s ~.farcely vt hi er
•' •. • .;;,‘ LcJ. lite 1..,r, tgi'.l
' A ;2,11 iii,j,114:.(1A . , am! the pale face
t•Il • ler of It.'.urtil:l;
onc.s arottit./ it'; then intlec,l a
et tort would flit acimas it. or I,ltceilni the
. • es—A 10.3 k such as tve assign to angels m y
lien some find faucy - eems to bring
ar u 4, ure;+lll-4 for mortal ;fiefs beyond
1: , .; rerrr.
-ickners for anti so yoong--tbe
o; l } p! fever with a babyfrume; but life
h (+to aiw-ti the victory ; and qnirker even
•h c rit.,l venture to expect ; the pulse rani-
grew round and rw..y. and the little
ft:ied up nazi]. Health was restored
h. t•ut not strength ; we thought thi, for a
EMI
c, ,1.,1 not won,ler that the vceaLevekl
tht sr office, an 2 atilt he waited on in
y 4, and even weeks, passed by ; then
s - as t•• 011,1 tivw the complaint had kit ita bitter
!elle Francle could not welk a step, ; or
Kl.
:6 and tether's and painful were the rernetlies
'e: "e ::o; yet the brace time bean bore sioaq
e :hat wondertuliortoode, almom herourn,
all who have ri -- "artrbeti 'by seflertng
liken the :raelabte hevAll 10 i 3 early
niu.4 at e.nme tune or other hire remark•-
• Fraticte's htrt,:u.te mt ht have atloideti an ex.
, 7 .- s!e to many : bolt a dealer Iron was given in
t,opeful arti altitih :he little, fellow him
:toted the elect of each tlawesi‘ing remedy,
raattinz each stage of progress. and showing off
r itager gladnes.s every s:ep attained, from the
ireeping on the hand, and knees, to' the tiptoe
around the room, bo , clmg, oci by chaits and
ta:...(1. then to the clinging to -snore loving, band;
114,- -] then at last ties graceful balancing of his light
✓sir. until be stood quite erect alone, and so mov
e..'.aatyon.
I; was in anturen this illness seized on the little
fest when the leases were turnine,?:rul the or
,l f . . , uits. becoming ri,}e. His nu:se attributeikt
a ..o h s satioi on a paak•l bank at playonec4
u...cettain autumn ilayS ; but he, in his child
way. zlvrays mann:tined " It was Francie him=
red.herrtes in the holly bower.' How.
re: this may hay e, Leen, the season and the time
at,:eittiy impre-.std n;son his mind. !nail
Lts long ocnutinetnent In the house, his trionqies eons
:.itiany turned to outward otteets, to tLe estemal
tare of nature and the season's ehanee, and erer.
more his. tette Aror,l of Lo?e was this, 11Len the
simmer carae3!"
He kept it up throu;horn the Ion; crimes and the
we a k e,ohJ livr.. l z A fair; 11: - .tecanrage had been
profried for hit*in whk:h. we:l
s wrapped op for
•le to 1 , and resirog oa &oft eu_shanta, he arcs
iv drawn alter; by a serraot. to 6 ; 15 own ;rest ,te.•
and the sin:La:ran of msoy a young beholder.
1:•-• when soy tme—axemptuq to reconcile hint
:he bet:et to his position---expatiated on the beauty
cornfor, of his new acquisition, ener look
w.. 1.1 word would show how fat he.went beyond it,
as quickly mterruptuig, he wool l exclaim, " Wait
tai the rummer comes—then Frantie will walk
lip in 7
Dwin,; the Trativ !Isere iris a laufal awns ; it
THE • r.BRADFORD ._.__REPORTER
shook the windows, moaned in the old trees, and
howled down the chimneys with a most menacing
voice. Older hearts than Francie's quailed that
night, and he, unable to sleep, lay listing to it all
--quiet, but asking many a qUtalion, his excited
nine), Wormed similitudes to the sounds. One time
it was poor fade children cruelly turned out, and
wailing ; then something trilling, with its last hoarse
cry then wolves and bears, from lar.oß other lands.
But all the while Francis knew he was snug and
safe - himself : no tears disturbed him, whatever the
noise may have done. Throughout the whole of it
lie carried his one steadfast hope, and in the morn
irg, telling ot it all, with all his inenordlous thoughts,
he finished his relation, with the never•failing word
of corniest, "Alt ! there shall be no loud wind, no
wakirr? ni.'hts when once the summer comes'."
' The summer came with its glad binls and. flow
era, its balmy air; and who can paint the exquisite
delight of the sneering child that had waited for it
so long! Living almost continually in the open
air, he. seemed to expect fresh health and strength
horn each reviving breath he drew, and every day
would deem himself capable of some ;greater aeon,
es it to prove that his expectation had not been in
vain.
One lovely day he and his little playfellows were
in a group amusing themselves in part of the gar.
den when some friends Passel through. Francie,
longihg to show how much he could do, intreated
hard to be taken with them " along the walk juatto
the holly bower."' His request was granted, and
on he did walk ; quick at first, then slowly slower ;
but stil upheld by his strong faith in the summer's
genial influence, he would not rest in of the
otlerca arms, though the fitful color went and came,
and the pauses grew htful color went and came,
and the pauses grew more and more frequent. No;
'with a heavy sigh he admitted, " 'Tis a very. long
walk, now : but Francie must riot be tired ; sure the
summer is come " And so, determined not to ad
' mit . fairgue in the face of the season's bright proofs
around him, he succeeded in accompli3lung, hie lit-
I tie task at last. . •
• Thus the summer passed away, and again came
the changing autumn, acting on poor little Fiancie
to degree he had never reckoned on, and with i . s
cliid; damp airs nearly throwing him back again
With a greater effect even than before ; he had again
tried the watt to the hr fly bower, the scene of his , 1
self accusing misderneanor,:as the causet
,'
rest: above his ea d.
his suf
ferings. 'He sat down to t!, gs
the autumnal breeze swept through them, the pol
ished leaves and bermes red did rustling play;" and
as little Francie looked uptranls tee suds them, a
memory of the former year, and of all-the time that
had passed since then, seemed for the first time
moumfi:llj to steal over t:is heart He nestled in
closer to , his mot! er's side; and slit! looking up,
with nitre thoutilitful eyes, lie said.
• • 31 ant ma , is the summer guile gone!"
•• Yes, my Jailing. Don't you see' the scarlet
terries. the toed of:winter for the title birds!"
, "Quite gone, mammal and Francie nog quite
well!"
Ha mother rooked array; she could not beat her
cht!tf to eiee , the telltale tears his mournful brie
words called np, or; know the sad echo returned by
her own de.-pondurg thoughts. There n-as a mo
me.nt's silence , only broken by the blackbird's song ;
and then she telt a soh, a centle kiss, upon her
hand, add looking doit-rt, she saw bet darling's Glee
—yes, surely now it was as an angel's—gazing up
ward to her, brightly beaming, brighter than ever ;
and his riaNy bps just parted with their own sweet
smile again as he excla'nieil, in joyous tones.—
'- kltunina, the summer will come again r
Precious was that heaven-bom•word of childish
faith to the care-worn mother, to cheer her then,
and, with its memory of hope, still w sustain her
throughmany an after experiment and an=ions
• watch, until at tam she reaped her rich reward in
the complete realization of her bright one's hope.
Precious to more than her such words may be, it
Olgarely stemming our present trouble, whatsors'er
it be—bravely enitnring, persevering, encouraging
others and ooritelves, " even as that little child"—
we : hold the thclught, that as the revolving year
brikts mond its different seasons, as day sr:ix-mils
to night—end even as surely as we look for this,
and know n--so to the trustitt heart there comes a
stns--,t May be soon or late, it may be now, or it
may be that'—when Ibis grief or grievance will have
passed away—.and so 'twill all seem nothut—whim
the summer comes.
Tat Cow Tate.—On the parched &Wolof a rock
on the mountains of Venezuela grows a m te with
dry and leathery foli.ne, its large woody smuce
ly penetrating into the rowel For several months
in the year rts leaves are not 1120islinied by a show
er, its branches
s took as it they were dead and with
ered; but when the trunk is bored, a bland and
nourish.ir milk flows from it. It is at sunrise that
tt e vegetable fountain flows most freely. At that
IMO, the blacks and natives are teen eordir4 from
all pans., provided with large bowls to. receive the
rni!k, which grows yellow and thickens al its sur
face. Some empty their vessels on the 'pet, while
others carry them to their saildren. One imagines
be sees the family of a shepherd who is distributing
the milk of his flock. It is named the pato de coca
or cow tree.
Goon Avvicsz—Never attempt to suite the grill
;
ty, where_ by a misdirected, °moo hasty blow, the
innocent, :be lattant, and the good may suffer
Sorer anernpt to expose a villain, if your efforts lit
Jump so are laxly ro injure those who have been
the unsuspecting dupes *lbis artifice- Serer wa
ger a Larger sum than you carry in your pocket.--
Never shake hart& with a man if you arenas glad
to`ktenim. Sever forr,e t when you reed e.
, to te
cone' Jour friend and be even more careful so
oiler your salutation tb thane thwarts pwin Never
quarrel without a sufficient cause, bat, if it be nee
mary to take op a quarrel, then see that quarrel
firmly pot to an end. Never betray confidence of
any kind, bat more particularly that Of a woman-
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PL, BY E. 0
:t of dr~ioic~attoa VW . . 3 ' l IJI “ QUA*TZL"
htradere is a MIL
A gentleman in New York, formerly of this sec
lion, related the following incident while we were
enjoying the luxury of a tool sea tweets on a hot
simirner's night. The subject of convetsatinn was,
the narrow escapes from death that are often ex
perienced by mankind in the ups and downs of
life.
When my father, said he, emigrated to Jefferson
cocnty, in the days of its first settlement, he loca
ted with his family in one of the southern towns,
Among other improvements on hos premises, there
had. been erected, one of the first essentials to a c
new settlement—a saw mill. it was one of those
old fashioned concerns, common in those days,
ti=ed with the huge undershot water -wheel, long
heavy pitman, and cumbrous saw-trame. Those
cow ieldly wheels are now quite forgotten in the
improvements that have been made in these agents
WI I shall never forget the OSA attached to my fa
ther's mill.
I was engaged in getting out lumber when an
aceideut happened to the water-works, azul I went
alone the next day to repair the damage. Care
lessly kneeling upon one of the float•boards of the
wheel, withozit observing the position of the Crank,
I proceeded to survey the nature of the derange
ment. While thus occupied, I did not observe the
alight motion towards • revolution which haileom
meneed by the wheel, capsed by my weight, and
my attention was first called to the nature of my
situation by r slow heavy pressure above my knee.
At a glance I comprehended the Igieril that I was in
and Made an effort to extricate myself. but I was
too late : I was fast wedged between the floats of
the wheel and the dill of the flume.
With considerable alarm I now observed that the
crank of the wheel was turned up, and that my
weight had slightly moved it from the perpendieu
lar. A moment's reflection increased my alarm,
as I fully comprehended that the heavy pitman
and the saw frame above that, were pressing with
their combined weight upon the crank.
To complete the horror of my situation, I per
ceived that the crank was moving almost imper
ceptibly, and I knew that without instant relict I
should inevitably be crushed to death between the
wheel and the flume. I gazed around and called
kindly for help; but no human being was near . ;
aml no answer was git en to my cries. My eyes
fell again upon the crank ; itiwas still moving and
drawing me into the awful death. .1 now looked
around for acme object to interpose between the
wheel and the flume, and saw an axe that I had
brought with me lying at one end of the wheel;
but the joy that was lit up within me by the sight
' or this object was 4ispelled in a moment, on find•
iag that I could not reach it. In my desperaiion I
then tried to wrench something from the Wheel,
butt ceryth.ng resisted my ntmost strength. My
last hope was that somebody might pass upon the
road which ran along the opposite bank at the
stream ; this hope died within me when I reflect
ed how seldom it was that nacelle= came that
way.
The crank had now reached an inclination of,
about thirty degrees, and I knew that its motion
would soon become fearfully accelerated. My I
limbs had ,giadually benumbed, as the circulation '
of the blood was interrupted ; and in a sort of Tut.
less despair I laid back upon the wheel, and then,
in obedience to maternal instructior, I called op
heaven for help. While thus I lay, half supplies.
tin; and half complaining, my thoughts turned
with sort of impious alacrity, from the Almighty to
a noite on a bridge that crowed the stream below
the in at, and I fairly screamed with delight as I re.
cognimii the sound to be that of a horse's tread.—
After crossing the bridge the horse commenced a
slow trot, end t knew there most be a rider upon
him althotagh the bushes on the roadside prevent
ed me horn seeing Lim. When the sound came
opposite the mill, I halloed, as I supposed, loud
enough to be heard forty times the distance to the
road; but owing to exhaustion my voice could not
have reached far, for the horse did not stop. Snit
the sound moved on, and as I fell back, in utter
despair apart the wheel, it seemed to me that the
horse and its rider, in 'that steady tramp—tramp—
were barbarously treading upon my beast.
This disappointment was so great that, for a while ,
I settled into a partial onaincionsnes.s. A scceak
of the pitutpu OS the crank, however, recalled the I
again lathe horrors of my simation. My limbs
had beet gradually dawn down so that the wheel
would moo commence crushing my body; the
et ink would, in a menus or two, wain a horizon
tal position, after which the wheel would revolve
with tearful rapidity,, mei I wds handy without
hope. Then my heart went up to Heaven in an
earnest heanfelt prayer, and 1 reproached Er yieli
fur the selfish manner, in wtichl had looked up
to the Goan Throes bat a moment before. The
metes of my past life flitted palpably hetore my
vision, and with great humiliation ; I besoncht tor-1
girEnesr for the error of my ways. This comma-
won gradually reconciled me to my fate; and `feel- '
rug oo pain, in my reverie, it seemed that I was
floating in &dace, atmosphere up to the realms
of bine.
These dief4htfpl amenities were interrupted by
a sound orsometAing near me, and gradually open
mg my 'eyes, I discovered the fture of s man
standing on the beam by the flume. He seemed
to be an angel from Heaven. Again Inspired by
hope, I gave a taint cry of joy. The man. named
round, a.nii as he saw` me in an Laciest he Decoded
to the crank, and endeavored to raise it with his
shoulder, but could not. He then seized a plank,
and placing it under the crank, secured it from lo
wering any flintier down. The= I beard him ad
justing, a lever, and is a 'bort time, the inexpressi
ble tenacity of begin myself radea/ly elevated
loom my terrible simatiori, by the slow taming
tack of the wheel, tamed me to faint entirely
away.
Merl I again' arcked my ries, 1 was lying ep
os the green grass, and my preserver, by dean
my limbs, bad partially restored sesrlibly to my
halt dead body. With both hands 1 feebly pav
ane of his, not endeavoring tU *peat ; and the plea.
sant but anxious smile that lit up his =utterance,
told me that he appreciated my acknowledgamMits
of gratitude.
My deliverer happened to be amen with whom
I was well acquainted, and he was also the man
that passed the mill when I was i 0 my perilous si
tuation. He heard a faint noise as he rode by, but
being engaged in thought he was not attracted by
it. While going up a hill shortly afterward, the
train of hut reflections was broken, and then it oc
curred to him that possibly the noise might have
been a cry of distress. To be perfectly sure, be
turned his horse and came back, and thus seas I
most providentially rescued.— Iraterlown Journal.
A traveller from journeying
In e,oontries far away,
Repassed the threshold at the close
Of este calm Sabbath . day ;
A voice of love, a comely face,
A kiss of chaste delight,
Were the first things o welcome him
On that blessed Sabbath night.
He stretched his limbs - upon the hearth,
Before its friendly blaze.
And conjured up mixed memories
Of gay and gloomy days;
And felt that none of gentle seal,
However far he main.
Can e'er &Ivo, eau e'er forget.
The quiet joya of home.
Bring me my children r cried the sire,
With eager earnest tone;
I long to press them and to mart
How lovely they hare grown ;
Twelve weary months have passed away
Hine* I went o'er the sea,
To feel bow sad and lone I was
Without my babes and thee."
'Refiesh thee, as 'tis needful," said
The fair and faithful wife,
The while her pensive features paled
And stirred with inward wife ;
• Refresh thee.hushand of my heart,
I ask it as a boon
Our children are reposing. lore:
Thou shalt behold them soon."
She spread the meal, she filled the cap,
She pressed him to partake:
lie sat down blithely at the board,
And all for her sweet sake ;
Bat when the frugal feast wa• done.
The thankful prayer preferred.
Again affection's fountain flowed;
Again is rcice was heard.
"Bring me my children, darling wife,
I'm in an ardent mood ;
My soul lacks purer aliment.
I long for other food:
Bring forth my children to my gaze,
Or ere I rage or weep,
I yearn to kiss their happy •yes
Before the hour asleep."
I have a question yet to ask;
Be patient. husband dear.
A arranger one suspicions morn,
Lid scud some. jewels here ;
Until L , take them from my care.
But yesterday he came.
And I restomfAhern with a sigh :,-...
Doth thou approve or blamer
I marvel math, sweet wife, that thou
sboaldst breathe such words to me;
Restore in man. resign to God,
Whateer is lent to thee ;
Restore it with a willing heat,
U. grateful for thy trust I
Whate'er may tempt or try as, wife,
Let as ba ever just.,"
She took him by the passive hand,
And op the moonlit stair.
She led him to their bridal bed,
With mute and mournful air;
!She turned the cover down and there
fa grave-like garments dressed.
Lay the twin children of their love,
In death's serenest rest.
These were the jewels lent to me.
Which God has &sped to own;
The premons caskets still remain,
But. sh. the O&M, are Aorta
But thoo didst teach me to resivi
What God alone can clam
Be gi•eth and be takes easy,
Blest be His holy name r
The father gazed upon his babes,
The mother drooped apart,
Waite all the woman's I.oflol. gushed
From her o'er burdened heart :
And with the striving of her
Which srrunc the tears she shed.
Were mingled low and loging word;
. r co the utmonscioes desk„
When the sad sirt has looked his fill,
11. veiled each breathless lace,
And down in self abasement bowed.
For nomkort and for grace;
Wkh the deep elogeace of erne,
!mined forth has sestet met.
Nose 4. and stood erect and calm,
In spirts aged and whole.
• les:rats thy tears, poor wife," to said
- I ream this leesan stilt
God rm. and God l ean rake away.
Blest be Ms holy will!
Blest &Wilted:Wrists (or tLey tors •
From sio and sorrow freer
Lad am I not joyless, love.
WI& faith. hope, lore, and thee."
Q;:- The .1/bury Defame says with more troth
than poetry, that the only people that hope, are the
poor. The rah live in fear. Redoes a man m
one par of breeches, and his view of futurity is as
buoyant as a ecnt. Make a millionane of hint,
and he will worry from pear end to year era Eve
ry gale of wind not only snits his vessels, but his
spirits, and the same continua:ion that only breaks
op the nap of the loafer, fills the mind of the rich
man with fear,and trembling for the stock he owns
in some intiarance company.
wasissoasay trisaaph, of whirl' the
won dies as owe, sod is saneeeded by re
=me ; milereas bigiTesees, which is the nobles
of all mirages, wails a perpetual pleasure.
Somebody says : albs devil a.v troubled
a busy ma 4 " This we know to be take. Stew
use busier man t ou the edit:, and yet be is few
teams if be Me no mom than ow n devß r' to no 4
tie him, especially whom " copy " is atom
MEM 'GOODRICH;
The following remarkable story has all the inter
est of a romance; yet it istnre t and the parties are
still living
It was in the memorable year of lAI4, when the
allied armies were concent about Paris.
A young lieutenant. of not rt-as engage&
with three Hungarians, • r having received
several smartstrokes from his sabre managed to
send a ball into his shoulder, to pierce his cheer
with a thrust from a lance, and to leave him for
dead on the bank of the river. •
pn the opposite side of the streem, boatman
and his daughter had lateen watching this unequal
fight with tears of desperation. But what could an
old unarmed man do, or a pet-chilli of sixteen
However the old soldier—fur such the boatman was
--had no sooner seen the of f icer fall from his horse,
than lie and his daughter rowed most vigorously to
wards the other side.
EWELL
Then when they had deposited the wounded
man in their boat, these worthy people crossed the
river with the faint hope of reaching the military
hospital In time.
" You have been badly trrateJ my boy," said
the old guardsman to him; "but here am I, who
have gone further on, and come home."
The sitenceand fixed attitude of Lieut. S. show.
ed the extreme agony of his pains, and the hardy
boatman anon discovered that the blood which was
gathering about the wound on the left side, would
shonly terminate his existence. He named to his
youthful daughter. '
"'.Lary," he said, " you hare heard me fell of
my brother; he died of anothersoch wound as this
here. Well, now, had'there only been somebody
by to sock the hurt, his Zile would hare been
sa red."
The boatman then landed, and went to look for t
two or three soldier to help him early the officer,
leaving his little daughter in charge of Min. The
girl looked at the shfieterfor a minute or two,—
What was her emotion when she heard him sigh
so deeply, no , that be vras resigniniT life in the first •
Rower of his age, but that he should die without a
mother': kiss.
' My mother ! my dear, dear mother 1 ." eatB he,
I dm weiroce—'l
woman's heart ioldber witat he would hare
Het bosom , heaved with sympathy, aliJ her .
eyes ran over.
Then she rernembeted what her father had said
she thought how her uncle's lite might hare been
saved. In an instant, quicker than thought, she
tore open the other's coat, and the generous 'girl
reealleil him to life with her
Amitkt this holy operation ; the Petinil of fcitstt , ps
was heattlantl the Noshing heroine Heil to the
other ensrof the boat. Judge of her father's surpri.-e, I
as be came up with two soldiers when be saw Lieut...
S—, whom he exceed to find dead ; open hip
eyes, and act for'his deliverer.
The boatman looted at his child, and saw it all.
The poor girl came to himi with her heed bent
down. She was about to excuse herself, when the
lather. embracing her with mihnsizsm, raised op
her spirits, and the officer thanked her 13 these pro
phet:v words:
You have saved my — life—it belongs to yon;'
After this she tended him,•and became his nurse ;
nothing would he take unless d came from her
hand. Isles wonder that with vetch a nurse he at
length recovered. Mary was as pretty as she was
good.
The Boa Waits Daughter.
Meanwhile master tapi.l, who is eery busy in
such c:wes, gime him another — wound, and there
was a<ty one *ay to Ore eery deep.it was
The boatman's daughter became Madam S—.
Her husband is now, not 'a
ample lieutenant, bit
a Heineman! general . , and the boatman's daughter
is as elegant and rueful a lady as any you see at
wait —London Anima
Worm tr roc worms HISEI--Ricianl Burke be t
ing found in revery, 'Lardy slier an extraordinary
display of pciWers in the house of Commons by his I
brother, Edmund, and questioned by Mr. Makine
as to,tbe came, replied : bare been wondering
how Ned has contrived to monopolize all the talents. I
of the family ; but diet), again, I remember, e , hen . 1
ire were at play, he teas always at a ork." The
force of this anecdote is increased bf the fat i!iat
Richard Burke was consi lered tut inferior, in net- t
oral talents, to his brother. Yet the one rose to ,
gosamess, while the other died comparatively ob
sense. pool MIA to yoor seams,_ yams; man, if
Too vroold rise ; bet work ! work work!
• A F.arrnsrs Wire—There .is teaching Re a
faithful wife ; nailer God cur steal or wee fur this
life depetals on her. If she .is desponding, )
own sanguine spelt catches the inf e ction ; but if
she is sail full of hope and estee . Jy, her smiles will
cheer yoo in this world ; prosperity and happiness,
depend chiefly on our wives. Let a man marry
one, therefore, "equal to either fortune," whoonin
adorn his ricbm or la-41iters his poverty ; and who
miler all eirrumetances, will be truly his help
mate.
To Piers-vs —Few parents teatime boll tench
their children may be tariff at loam, by devotisq
a few miaow* to their iniarnerion every (lay. Let
a parent mate the expe-iment wit' his sou of um
yews old, for a viagle week, and only &bin the
boars which are not spent in school. Let,Ean make
a companion of his chit], convene with him la/ma
lady, pet to him quegiori, answer inquiries. crap
municate facts, the math of his madam or observa
tion, awaken hiscuriosity, explain difficulties, the
meanizq of things, and the reason of thins, and
all this in an easy, playful manner, without seem.
in to impose a task, and be will himself be =kn
ished at the pagans which will he mode. -
inr The Albany Dutchman mania that a gen
tleman of that city has invented a vraier-pceof abort,
for which be has sates oat a patent The tows
are vaade of sheet coo, While t.tia radio maims nt
a hand.aavr, web the taiga set wide.
Howie tab a Vole.
►n a neighboring. Sate there is a county yrlitch
has always beat diVided bettkeett family parties,
and elections are nowhere more hotly ecnitested.
In former year , there two parties were Tyerrally
headed by. Major 13—, and old Squire o llohn
A—, and every returning election for members
of the Legislarure witneed a conflict between•
them, in which each found the other "'worthy of
his steel.' , Year after year the COMPSI . IraS kept
up, and neither gained any material advantage.--:
The majority for either never exceeded toror•.
About the year 182—, the excitement was at the
highest, and it taus experte l i 'that the race would.
be even closer than u'nal. But as the canvass pro
gressed:the major exhibited an elation of fpiritk
and old John a corresponding depresston, which
equally, though differen'tly, affected the friends of
both.
One day, about a week before
,the election; tie
Squire, and one of his warmest friends, whom we
will call Jones, were at the house of the former,
esaminin4 the
. calculations be bad made—accord
ing to which' die , Major would be elected by one
tote There. was, however, one man counted
among the Major's friends, who was considered a
little doubtful.' To Secure his tote would be to
change the eleCtion, and while they were endea
toring to devise some scheme by which this could
lie effected, Old John happened to look out and
sear the man himself, triton) we trlttcall Long, not
far off approaching the house. A brightthouteat
seemed stidierdy to strike him •
" I „Tat it, Jones, bat ha,e'nt time to explain
pick a varier with Long, and- don't take ofletwe
a: anything I do."
Joneabelieved implicitly irkold Jain, and nod
ded, wondering what was to be done.
By this tinie Long came up, and was cordially
welcomed. Tjetty Foot! oh) John had occasion to
leave fir some porpo-e, and returning in about f eu
minutes, found his visitors ertgagedin a hot dispute_
about the election. Long made some attempt to
' change the subject, but Joueet would not perm,'
I and began to use rough language. !Jere John in
terferedtandA expressed sulirise at the conduct of
• Jones. A temporary cessation hollowed, and the
dispute was renewed with create: spence on the
part of Jones. Jones had taihen has rue. Again old
John iuterpci-ed, and threateneCto drive Jones oitt
• of the house if he persisted. • The calm was this
; time of still shorier di:voila:l, and th e di-pate 4 as
.
'%.- - ziau renewed. Old John rose from his seat, and
marched up to lone!, seized him by the collar
Jones made a sham of resistance, but suffered tien
tled to the door, and sterhytarily rejected.
. Haftare u Len he reached the vie, he tnnted his
wrath upon old John, swearing, that he had alwas
supported him. but that he had now been itnprkt.ed
on for a •man that had always Wen against him, and
'••hc . d never gct his Doti ag;:zils •
AA soon as Jones let, old Juba tumedio I.aug
and seerred much affee:e,'.
,J hare lost one of my best friends, Mr. Lorpz,
. .
but—" • ..
Long eagerly interrupted him : '
" No Squire, if you've lost one, you've gained
another. rut 04- to ro'e for re!"
A Mast of gook! oW Nash anon followed, at J that
year ukl Juhn iris elected by came rote !
Jones and old John krpt dark till the election
aas over, but after that they had many a hearty
laugh aver the frene we have described above.•••
_V. Y. Spfrif of the Tastes.
Tug HoYcr Bee rr _tam& —The native tribes
of America say that hire-bees were ortinilly in
troduced =mg them from Europe, but when and
by whom none of them could all. The only name
they have for them is the " white min's fly," and
they regard their wider dint/skin as mdieating the
encroaching progress of the white seftlers. It is
said that the first planters in New' England' never
site- any bees there; that the English introduced
them to Boston in 1670: and that since then they'
hare spread ores the w hisle continent Wasliit.'g,
ton irveq has written an account of the progress
which the hire bee is making w-tivartis in Amer
ica 7 and about silty years ago, when Bertram I:1-
(1134 i d 1..-:tr it was that westward, azi.ntg the Cit - ek
tndians, he had keen no bees, be was told by a DT .
Grant that there were fcsr or none west - of the is
thmus of Florida, and but one hive in Mobile, whrcli
had been lately brought Europe, dui Pag,:ts.;t
true that there wens none in the country,-act
finding any when they toot possession after the
Sparitrii and French. , flarsram wasaLso assured by ,
the tra.lrts that there were no bees in West
whirb he thought 'extrauldusary and almost
ble, since they were so name - cis all along tl.e
eastern coast, horn Nora Scotia o East Fionila, ,
evenin Abe wild forrella, as to be Alsocghtt by the
generality of the itthaintants abor - gires of that coo-
Lenexa. At the preens time the honey-bee is abun
dant throughout the United States, bosh as a den
ten of the forest and a dependant on man. Gen
speaking. die setter in the 'backwoods pre
fer- the precarious but tarp-wits supply afforded by
those swarms which Lave deserted Man. and tArti
op their abode in Eessmes of rocks or hollows 0
trees, to the more regular, bet less *bandit:it 1..02-
ply, horn hire. of his ova.
The archer of .1 Toff, es the Prairies. KITS ike In
dians t o sadthe bee a the haahi.'ner of the white
man, as the beffilo h , of the red mall: and say that
in ropertinn as th bee adcars-cw, the Indian aria
az rie
the buffalo ire. wi Ur ld bee is said be sel
dom met with , at great distance hoar the !rat
tier. Whey- the orypee firs crosser the M.si-s
-sippi, the lAil , with satpr s e, ImmJ me hoilow
trees of their *vas swillenly teernin:,l 'Biel honey ;
acal nothing can eaceeil the greedy , retort' Kith
which they ban quet r for the error tune upon this cm--
booed friattri of the wilderness. At pnwitra, to
honey-bee swanns in risynads.us the waste grimes
and foresee the Ara anJ interred the prairies, an.i
emend atone the aural bottoms of the rriws.—
Uri/alias:at , :raol au= Pre t:, to J. H Fr....l.aLsi;
Zit/IMM 5410