I: qaagaira lato TOWANDA: Eiatttrbdg Morning, Nonctnbtr 23, MO. PLODGH, LOOM AND ANVIL. B? EPICS SARGIUNT The camp has had its day of song; The sword, the bayonet, the plume, Main crowded out of rhyme too long 'The plough, the anvil, and the loom ! Oh, not upon our tented fields Are Freedom's heroes bred alone; The training of the workshop yields More heroes true than war has known. Who driv.ts the bolt, who shapes the . steel, May, with a heart as valiant smite, As he, who sees a focman reel In blood before his blow of might ! The skill that conquers space and time, That gra t es life, that lightens toil. May sprinr , ' from courage,more sublime Than that which makes a realm its spoil Let labor then, look up and see, His craft no pith! of honor lacks; The soldier's rifle yet shall be Less honored than the woodman's axe, Let Art hisiown appointment prize, Nor deeth that gold or outward height, Can compensate the worth that lies In tastes that breed their own delight. And may the time come nearer still When men this sacred truth shall heed ; That from the thought and from the will , Must all that raises man proceed! Though pride should hold your calling low, For us shall duty make it good; And We from truth to truth shall go, Till life and death are undestood. (From Frazer't Magazine.( hi .any IF IE IVS , TI 1 . , E 2 OR, THZ ALIBI. ,It was one of those bright and beautiful •April niornergs which nature sometimes thrirws in upon cur easteTri shores, as it iu compensation tie months ct f r, al , l fickleness, that' I awoke fro:n the en ,,,y slumbers of a mail coach passenvr, just in t:mr• to drink in, at eye, ear, and nosehe brilliant FilarMc . . enlivening dash; and invigovating odor Of my notice wares, as thOy leaped up in exulting hoes to kiss the roegy barrier which Scotland ryp i:es to, the fury of the German Ocean. I. was, cre long, to piss a barrier of a different devcription, • (low. happily, a modern one,) betwen two sis mr n : or, i:r plain En,glish, to erticir the town r ;Pr wick upon Tweed, a few m iles beyond which, •on the soutt.ern side of the border, business oblig ed tne.m. proceed , • At the inn door, where we stopped to change hor-e., in this capital of "no mart's land," whale . 4 c,ital.i:ants assert their anomalous independence he si;ealt in.; a dialect which they take care shall be neither Scotch nor Englith. I also exchanged, t:;e briet remainder of my journey, a taciturn (ymmer- place sort of a fellow•passenger, from , Caose wooden physiognomy f never dreamed of et;lacun4 anythiri4, for one fr6m whose molest, yet speak mg countenance, and the interest she evi• l sac exciier} in the few who ~,Were sstie at that early hour ; it was impossible to avoid auguring a great deal. The coArli door was opened, and wii!:•swirriming eye, flu,hed t•heek, and silver hair blowing about an the morning wind, a venerable looking old man look.leave; with more than parental tendemesir of simply•dressel, yet genteeflooking young it-o man ; who, returning his tremulous "Gov} bless a:td reward you !" with an almost filial farewell, drew over her lace a thick black veil, and sat down rwlsite to me. I never felt more inclined, and at the same time at a loss, to open a conversation. To intrude on female sorrow is unjustifiable. That of my new eompan ;on seemed of a gentle, sobaned eort, aria• tag more from , sympathy for offte'rs than personal can-es ; and, ere long,lputing back her veil with rile reviving cheerfulness of one ribose heart is ;:;iitened of an unmerited burden, she looked cam ly out on the fresh morning aspect of nature (sci . in .unison with her . own pore ar.d innocent counte. naner..) and sa id," in; the tone of one breathing at length from the pressure of painini thoughts, " flow iNeautitui everything, doss 'Molt this fine Spring mor. Nrig 1:' ' It does, indeed," said I, struck with the conf,t ing naivete of this instiduntary reitaik and suppose you are the more sensible of it from being a young traveller." I-fetr only answer was one of ',lose quiet, iutehigeut 3miies which admit of sari uu translations, and which I chase to constree into assent. Coupling the remark with the circumstance of her only luggage being a small band box, 1 set her down for a firmer's daughter of the nighbor. IloOd ; I suppose, •like myself, you are not going t "lam going to London, sir," said she, with a • toneofcaim selfixtsis. mien, as if such a . journey had been to her a dairy occurrence ; and so indeed it was, not metaphorically, bat literally. "To London !'' repeated r, with more surprise titan I could well account for. " Were you ever there before !" " Oh, yes!" was the reply,render ed more piquant by its singular composure, " I came from seventy miles beyond it the ditY before yesterday." • It would be quite superfluous to say that my cu riosity was excessiveli excited by this unexpected answer ; and. I dare say my readers will set me down (as I did myself when it was too late) as a very stupid fellow for not having the dexterity toil • - gratify it. Bat my companion, as if ashamed of having so tat committed herself to a stranger. and rater- a young gentleman, (though I hare a wife and five cluldrca written upon my face, I believe pretty leg ibly,) sat back in the coach, and answered r e • or two indifferent questions *rim that laconic gentle. nets which is infinitely more d isionniging num sal- Nit silence. ILlelt I had not the smallest right to ask in direct terms—" My dear, what could make you . navel seviral hundred miles for one day 1" ai:td as THE . '-BRADFORD *.REPO !.TER.. I saw she had not the least mind to tell me, I real ly must plead guilty to the weakness of being asifamed to use the advantage my station and knowl edge of the world gave me, to worm out a secret ; which from a stleatlear that I saw trickling down behind her veil,l guessed must be fraught with more el pain than pleasure. The struggle between my curiosity and better feelings was still going on, when 'the arrival of the coach, near my,friend's gate, gave the latter an ittL voluntary, and not very meritorious triumph. Now that sill idea of intrusion was at an end, I could ven ture upon k indness, I said, (I am sure in honest sineerity,)The l idra of your going such a long journey by. yourself, or with chance company, grieves me. Can I ibe of any use in recommend ing you to the proteCtion of the guard, or other wise !" " Thank you, sir,a thousand times," said she, rai sing for the first time a pair of mild innocent eyes to my face ; " but He who put it in my mind to come, and blessed the purpose of my journey, can carry me safe back again ; and I should be silly, indeed, to mind going a few hundred miles by land, when, trusting to Him, I am about to sail to (he other end of the world. lam muctiobliged to you, sir, I am sure, though," said she again ; and it we had been destined to go to another stage together, I certainly should have known ail. Time, however, on all occasions despotic, is in exorable when armed wth a masl.coach horn. I could only shake hands.with the gentle being I left behini me, slip a crown into the guard's palm to look well allot her, (which I was glad to (bid be took as a tacit affront.) and turn my thought•, by a strong etlort, to my Northumbrian friend's affairs. These occupied me fully and disagreeably al; the morning ; and early in the afternoon 1 was for ced to run away Irom my friend's old claret, and old stories, (tor I had shot snipe on WA lands with my first gun; sorne, twerny years befor...) to fulfill an engagement in Edinburgh early on the follow iog day I compounded for this outrage nnthe old gen! le. man's hospitality, by accepting his carriage to con vey me back to Berwick in time for a coach. which 1 knew would start ifolll thence for tbeNcoth in the course of tbe evening ; and no sooner did I find myself once more at the door of the King's Ann's, than the circumstance brought full on my memory the romantic occurrence v hich had been, for the Lust few hours, eclipsed behind a maggot dusty law papers, zrtil the portly persons of a brace of hard . featured .and harsh-toned Northumbrian attorneys 1 found myself a few minutes too early; and as I stood on tAe steps, shivering in the cold evening breeze, end pondering on the vicisitndes of a nor thern April day, [could not help asking the land lord (a civil, old-fashioned floniface,) " Pray, sir, do pop know anything of the history of that nice, decent-locking siotnan wire s:arted from your house i With me, this mornlnt -, , for London ?'r • "'Know, sir !" said he, as if in compassion for my ignorance, " ay, that I do ! and so floes all Ml . :wick, and it would be well if all Englat:d and Scotland knew it too. If ever there was a kind hear and a pretty face in Berwick bounds, it's sure ly Mary Fenwick's " It's rather a long story, though, sir, and the hor ses are just coming round ; but I'm thinking there is one goes with you as far as Hadiling,ion that won't want pressing to give the outs and ins nal', So saying he pointed to a stout, grazier-looking personage, in a thick great coat and worsted cum. hatter, who, by Iris open countenance and manly, yeomanlike bearing, might have been own brother to Grandie.Dinmonl himself. ".This-gentleman," said the landlord, with a respectful glance at my. sell, and a familiar nod to the borderer, [t substan tial wool-stapler in Berwick, but passing, in quest Of his pastoral commodity, halt his lite among the neighboring farms,] " wishes to hear all about Ma ry Fenwick. You've known her from the erg, I may say, and been in Court yourself, on the trial yesterday; so you'll be able to'give it to him la his heart'a con tenL" The last words were drowned in the mule of the advancing, coach. In jumped I, and in ePambored the'llorderer ; reconciled to the durance of an in aide birth by the sharp east vrind, and the pleas ure of talking of Mary Fenwick. Having exrla►ned, for the rake of propriety, tha t my interest iu the , daraseharose from the singular circumstance of i.ne so young, and apparently in experienced; travelling, about six hundred miles, to pass one day in Berwick, my parity ru•a•risciv. illy begged my pardon, and assured me that no one Lem fe!l the least uneasiness on the score of Mary's =in "There's a blessing on her errand, sir, and that the very stones• on the road know; and, besides. she's so staid and sensible, and has so much digni ty about her, that she's as hit to go through the world as her'grand mother." To all this I assented the more readily, that this very had made me forego all inquiry into what I wished so much to know ; and even now listened to it with all the more satisfaction for the hint she had thrown eel, ati...itof regret for not hav ing told,rne herself. " Does she bdlong to this place," asked I, " that you seem to know her so well V' " Ares sir; born and bred in Berwick boonds.— She was a farmer'sdaughter, a Aile out 01 town, arid just what a farmer's daughter should be. Her mauler, a clever notable woman, taughtlaerto bake and brew, and knit and sew; in short, everything thatmacy girls in her station are now too. fine to (13. They think these good old-fashioned - things Make them ungenteel, but they never made Mary Fen tiick so; for I am sure, air, bot for her suitable dress and simple manner, you might have taken her for a lady m . ' "Well, Mary came often in her father's little cad to'market, to sell ;tier better and eggs rwe've a great trade in ea* here, you know, air,'" and some how or other, she fell in aviih" a young man of our town, a merchant's clerk, who wastaken with her g,ood looks, and cared for very little else : His old PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA:, ,BY E. 0 " ILEGANDLINM OP VCNONCIATION FROM ANT QUANTA:TO k father, however; [the old man who pat Mary in the coach this morning,] maie many inquiries about his son's sweetheart ; and as lie beard noth ing but good of her, he had the sense to see, that though one of a largo hard-working family, she would be the very wife to. reclaim his gay, idle, thoughtless son, if anything would. " And very idle and extravagant be was, sir! The only son of people well to do in the world, and a good deal spoiled from tidal, he neglected his bu siness whenever he could, and loved dress, and horse racing, and all that, far too well. But he re ally loved Mary Fenwick ; and no sooner daw that she would not so much as listen to him while an this went on, than he quite left off all his :wild courses, and became a new man, to gain her favor. " It was not done in a hurry ; for Mary had been brought up very piously. and had a horror for every thing evil. But Dick Mensal was ''very clever as well as handsome ; and when he pleased, could make one believe anything; end really, to give him his due, as long as he had any doubts of Mary's love, no saint could behave better. At last howev er, he fairly gained 'her innocent heart; though I believe it was as much by the aid of his good fa ther and mother's constant praises of himself, and doming fondnessjor Mary, as his own winning ways. " When he saw she loved 'him, and R was not by halves, though in her own gentle way, he want ed to marry her immediately ; and Mary's father would have consented, for it was a capital match for a portionless girl. NW Mary said " Richard, you have kept free of cards and dice and folly, one half yeat, to gain your own wishes ; let me see you do it another, to make my mind easy, and then trust you till death divicles us." biek stormed and got into a passion, and swore slie:did not love him ; but she answered, " It is because I do, that I wish to give you a habit of goodness be lure you are your own ma=ter arid mine. Surely, it is no hard• ship to be for six months, what you intend to be all the rest of your life." to Ilicreard was forced to submit; and for three of the six months, behaved better than ever. But hab it, as Mary said, is oven thintt ; and this had, for years, set the wrong way. NV oth the summer came fairs arid idleness, and junketing=, and; worn of all, races, into the neighborhood. Dick first staid away with a bad grace, and then weld, just to see how well he could behave, and ended by losing his mo ney, and getting into scrapes, just as bail As ever. "Fur a time be was much whameti, and felt real sorrow, and felt that Mary would never for give Lim; but when she did sn, sweet, gentle, soul! once or trice, (though her pale face was reproach enough to ary man,) be began to get hardened, and to laugh at what he called her pen siveness. Mary was twenty times nearer givira him up, but his parents hung about her, and told her, she could only save him from peidition, in 'VI), she thought so herself; and this joined to her love for him, whirls was all the deeper for its slow giowp, made her still r eady to risk her own • welfare for his. It is not to be told how much she bore of idle ness, extravagance and hilly—for vice wa. never as yet laid at his door—in the hopes that when these wild days were past, Richard would Soule main into a sober man of business. At last, howev. er,..to crown all, there came players to the town ; and Dick was not to be kept either bcfu . re or be. hind the curtain. lie fell in with a gay madam of an actress, very showy to be sure, but not more to be compared with Mary Fenwick than a flaring crockery jug to my best china puncli•bowl. She persuaded him that to marry a farmer's daughter, *as finite beneath him; and, to be kept in awe by her, more contemptible still. 'So to make a long story short, sir, Dick, after trying in vain to force his heart•broken Mary to give hint op, (that he might lay his rain at her door.) had the cruelty to tell her one nigflt, as he tar lier.goitig home to her father's from noising his oWn sick mother, that he saw she was not a fit match for him, either in birth or breeding; and that, ,if he . ever marnetl, would be to a wife of more liberal ways of think- "He had been driuking a good deal, it is true, and was put to his base conduct by a stage favorite: but when be found, that instead of a storm of re proaches, or even a flood of tears, poor Mali- pale, and shaking, and kept saying, " Poor Richard! poor, poor Richard !" he grew sobered, and fain woold have softened matters a little. But she summoned all her strength, rind ran till she came to her lather's gate ; arid two days alter, when the old Manse's drove opt in, their post chaise, to try and make it all up, and get their eon put once more upon his trial, Mary was off—her parents could not tell whither." " And where did she go," asked I, ffir the first One ienturing to interrupt the honest Berwicke'r's con amore narration. "It came out, sir, afterward that an uncle in London had formerly invited her to tome np and visit him tuid +now, that her engagement was so , sadly broken off, she told her parents it would save her mach misery to leave home for sr while, and even go to service to keep out of the way till Dick DLinsel should be married—"Ur hanged r cried the father, in his passion, (as he alterwards acknowledged.) little thinking how near it was be. ing the case. There was a salmon smack lying in the river just then, whose master was Mary's cou sin; so she slipped quietly on board in the dark, and got safely to Londmr." " How long was this ago T. , said L "Oh ! about fife or si.v Months, perhaps : let me see; it was in October, and this is April. Well; sir, Mary staid but a shod time at her uncle's, as idleness was a thing she never liked, but-thnattgh his wife (who had been housekeeper to a nobleman,) she got delightful place in the same family, as upper nur sery maid ; which her gentle manners, steadk tern- Perr, 11 4"/ long experience in her father's family madetter every way.fit fo9, " She had been long with them, when Lord was appointed to a government in the lel dies, and as he resolved to take out some' of his younger children, nothing would serve Lady S— but Mary must go with them. they *em grown so fond of her, that her cares on the voyage would be worth gold; and then her Maid, sober, dignified ways, made her a perfect treasure in a country where, I understand, girls' heads are apt to be turn ed. Lady S-- knew her story, and thought it recommendation enough; so her parents were written to, half Mary's ample Ages secured them by desire, and she too went. down the seaside to be in the way to embark at the last moment, when all the tedioui outfit for a great man's voyage, was over." " So this explains a hint she threw out about go ing to the world's end !" said I. " Yes dir; She would have been half way there already it it had not pleased God to send a contra ry wind, to save Dick Mansel's lile." " His life! poor wretch!" said 1 "Did he take a worse course still I" "Pretty bad, air; not quite so bad as he got =edit for. I'll tell you as short as I can "There came about Berwick, now and then, a scamp of a fellow, whom every body knew to be a gambler and a cheat; and whom none but such little dogs as Dick Manse! would keep company with. This man, sir, was known to be in or about town last autumn, and to have won !bone) , of Richard - both on the turf and at the card.table.—. they had a row about it, it seems, high words, and even a scuffle: but few knew or cared ; and Jack Osborne went away as he came with none the wiser. " But about six weeks or two months ago, it be. gan to be whispered that he had been missed of late from his old haunts, and that Berwick was the last place where he had been seen ;. and good for nothing as he was, he had decent relations, who began to think it worth while to inquire into it.— The last person in whose company he had been in ourtown, ‘vaseertainly Dick Manse: who when asked about him, denied all knowledge of his old comrade. But Dick's own character by this Gine had grown very notorious ; and though no one here, from respect to his family, would t.ave . breather) sueh a notion. J. ck Osborne's stranger uncle felt no scruple in insinuati4 that his nephew had met with foul play, and insisting on an Inquiry. .In the course of this, a very suspicious circum stance came out a volt - cf rtstuts, well known to be Osborne's, were foetid in Dick's possession, and a story of his having received them in part payment for some =ambling debt, was of entitle very riffle, if at all b•-lieved. There were plenty ol people who could depose, that on the 22d of (k•tuber at a tavern dinner. the two had a quarrel, and had high words, though .. they were aLerwards seen In go out separately, and seemingly good hiends. " The next step in evidence l% 3S, Iwo people having relented late.'diat evening, and on passing a fit:le stunted iltiek`C't, about hall a note front town; hearing somelliitig like groans nod cries; which, however, they paid little attention to, being in a great hurry. This caused it to he searched ; and in the old sand pit, near the spot, to the surprise and horror of all Berwick, were found the remains cf poor Jack Osborne ; his clothes, from the dry nature of the ground, were in quite good preset cation. '• Things began now to pot on a face terribly serious (or Dick Manful, especially as another man came forward to Pay, (peopte idorod b e ver y cau tious, tdr,) that he had met Dick—or some one like him—on the road to that very spot, just before the hour when me moans were heard; and that, on being addressed by his name, be passed on and ;are no answer. " Between the qna.vel and *the pistol's and the groans, and the dead body, and above all, the evi dence of this men, a complete case was made out for a Jury, arid there was Many things besides to give it color; especially poor Dick's re.in reckless habits, and his evident confu.sion when first asked what he bad been doing on the 23d of October. To those tv:to raw his conscience-stricken look; when aware of the drift of the question, her wan no doubt of his guilt. " Dick was committed fur trial ; and, oh. sir, it was a sad Jay for all who knew his worthy parents, and had seen the creature Pmself, grow up before them a pretty cmly•haired child, and then a manly spirited boy. His behavior in prison, was dogged and soften; and he seemed to scorn even denying the fact to those who should suppose him enilty, as moss did; but on his poor father (.vbo would nev er credit it) urging him to think, fur his gray hairs, whether some means of proving his Innocenee might not yet be found, he at length said, though wrung from him by his parentf distress,' Where's one person on earth who could clear me of ibis liar. rible charge, (but even tf she were angel enough to .lo it, I suppose she's left England.) and that's Mary Fen wick. This is a judgment en me, Luber, for the, usage of the girl 1" The 'agonized p.ments lost not a moment in writ. in; to Mary the most pathetic letter a broken heart ever penned. They feared she could have sailed. But it pleased God btherwise; and though the wind that first kept theta, had changed, they were de tained one week longer for reasons of state. Mary carried the letter to her good mistress and told her all. • "She readily got leave for the journey, and was offered a fellow servant to take care of her, but she was stentlfast in declining, it. " f would Wish no an necessary Witness of poor Richar4 shame and his parent's sorrow, my lady;" said she; "God will protect one who i•go- Mg to return good for evil." • " There' was not a moment lost, to let Mary ap pear at the assizes yesterday, and get back to Ports mouth in time; so into the malt she stepped, runt and arii vett hem as soon as a letter could have done. . Whet they save her, the poor old Manses almost fainted' for joy. They kissed and wept over her, as they hat' done many times when their sons wild ness c 7ieved her - gentle spint; but thee soon rug" MEARA GOODRICIL to look up to her as a guardian angel, come to save their gray hairs from despair and disgrace. . "They would have proposed to' her to seend comfort Richard; bin gbh said MIMI: • " We have both need of our streivh to-morrow. Tell him I forgive him, and bloss , God for bringing me to save him, and pray that it may not be from danger in this world deice_ " She was quite worn out with latigae, it may be supposed, and glad to lay her innocent head down ono more on her mother's bosom, in the bed where she was born, and where she had hardly expected ever to lay it agai She arose quite refreshed, and able fur the ha U trial, (and hard it was to one so modest and retiring.) of:appearing in court, be fore her whole towns-people on so, melauehpty an occasion. 1 ‘ She 'was indulged with a chair, and sat as math ett of sight as positible, surmdnded by kind friends, till she should be called on. The case for the i pmeecution was gone lido . ; and a chain of eir cumstantial evidence made •out so 'tlektpemtely ,againsepoor Dick, that the crown counriela rath er flippant young mar—said, "This is .a hollow case, you will see my lord. Nothing short of an •alibi can bring him MU' " ' And that shall be proved immediately, my lord, replied—very unexpectedly--some of the pri soner's friends. IVe have a witness here come more than.ihree hundred miles for the purpose:' and Mary, shaking like a leaf, and deadly pale, was placed in the box. The counsel had nothing for it but to examine her. I,shooetl be sorry' to say, sir, he wished to find her testimony- fufse; bet the ingenuity; and he did not trite lilte laWyers have a frightful pride in showing hollow ' case to be overtni tied. At all events, Iris manner was any ! thing but cucintraging to a poor frightened girl; but he little knew that M.try could be firm as a rock where duty was concerned. " On being desired to say what she knew of this business, Mary simily averred, in as kw words as possible. that Richard Mansel trot have been 1 in Overton 'Wood at the hour assigned for the mor ider of lack Osborne; as lie was at that very time I with her, on the road to S.-- farm, exactly on the other side of the town. " Very pleasantly - engaged, I dare say, my dear, " said the counsel, but I am afraid the court will not he the more disposed to almit raw evidence on that acronnt." lam sure they ought,' said Mary, in a tone of deep and F lemn sincerity, which dashed the law)wr a good ' Cnt,r said he recovering II chard Mau'el met you, you say on the road In S—, at a iuk after the hoc; of nine, on a certain evening Pray what feasott mty you have fur remembetitnz the•bour Bee:111.e had Maid to give !Its moth er her nine o'clock draught before 1 lehlniwn ;. and bocatp3e, jo,t as T got my father . s pie the church clock snuck ten ' ' Ve.y acct . :rate? And pray what leads yoij o orl be r 0 pot.l:lVe., aS 10 the day 1" c Because the 1e1y? next evening I sailed for London in a smack, whose sailing day is always on Finlay, and Thurs. day - must have be . en the 23.1. cr . v er y logical indeed! And new my dear, to come more to the point, how come you to remem • her this meeting itseff so very particularly? It was not the first I dare say.' & Nn, sir,' said Mary .her paleness giving way to a flush of insulted dq. nity ; hut it was the last? 1 remember it, because we were engaged tcrpe married ; . and on that very night !and I ble:.l God i was ne other) Richard Mansel told me, and not tefy Rindly, T was - rte . a fit wife for him ; and ull that had been ;erg on between us so long was forever to an end! 1 have a right to remember this, sir, I think." ‘• Mary 'ltrAt made, to muter strength and utte ranee for this testimony, all the exertion nature would permit. She fell back, tainting into her ta titer's arms, anti a murmur of admiration ran throe 21,1 the court. " This is an alibi, with a witnes.s" said a sfrrevrtt barrister. not likely a irlfsearded sweetheart would i-anie sic hundred ;stiles to per jore- hersetf for a s.crinnilrel like this!' In corrobo ration of Mary's simple lostinmy, shOultl any be verptired, there was handed_ to the jirry a house wife, or pocket-book, Whose - few leaves of memo ramlnms cent:tined, (-evidently written down at the mortieni, and 4ettel with U a still disceenibte tear,) Oct. 23d—this day, parted ferever in this world with poor Richard Manse!. Gc4 grant we may meet in the n r I.' " " flit id they mhet World, Sir`!" said 1, when my horie.l friend had got rid of some thing troul , lestime in his eyes. r' No, sir; Mary felt was better cithe'lwise and no one thirst press" It upon her. She wrote hith a tettei, though, is !rich no one else saw, and 1 hear he says life was hardly woilit saving, since he has lost Mary. Poor devil! We)! see if ill r 3 gll3 - 41 sempb Willso ber him." Little more pa‘sed between me and my blind, :14; the Fietis of Dunbar were now in view. I t ave since been in Berwick, and find Richard lives With his parents, a milder mid a wiser man than they ever expected him to be ; and Mary is married in India, to a young chaplain, up 1.1 - e country, to whom , Lori! hai promised a living in her ot% na tive North, on his return to A Posts.— A "homier" of rather wanly means recently visted this eiiy, 'rich introductory leffera for the purpose of buying a consi.lerablo amount of goods upon credit. The jabbers to whom he applied were very courteous, but did'irt exactly ICitracle. 41VIta:"Er the matter," inquired the buyer. "N'othing particular," was the reply, "only we iletr't like thiA credit bus•ineas." " Well, but I don't ask for only'lltirly clays." " Very true, but you - trright die you know." " Die 7—why who the d—l over heard of any bodfidyinifin thirty dugs?" Oz;r- Why is a young, female jumping upon one leg like a horse going at its fastest pace ?—Because it is ganorging. ' W1MED33717.11 kt 3 Mug , a Itioute Dealer. A tew nights since, n sucker appeared at one of the linnecrons - monte bunks in this city, arid inquir ed, with 'a mellifluous nasal twang hong to his voice,hlte an ,Enlian aurtd rneut, , ,to a piano -11 they 'lowed a Man to bet bi:;piie on them 'ere kcerds The dealer looked up imd. his eye rested on the person of an individual, who was neither tall net shortice called tohnd, for he . would hare measured the same eater Way you took birn—who stood looking at the game, and who had just asked' the qtestion. lie was a quaint ganius, for- this world, and he seemed to know it: Hid hair hmig down in king bristles, and his head talked for all the world like a Flat Ilead Indian; 'twits a long, low, • rakish looking head, and stuck upon a pair of shoul ders that seeked broad enough -to sustain the Rho dian Colossus. His body was as large its a pun cheon of rum, and his leg; resembled kegs of laid: A pair of eyes like in a plate of 'Goshen Imam, displayed a world of avarice in their' mink 10, ha gazed upon I the various piles of Money ; and there he stood, the Very'shape of an into: toga tory— u Yes, you may bet yonr -pile, - said the dealer. The little man hitched Op his pants, and &ter quite a tong search, excavated horn the depths of his capacious shut pocket, a bag containing his pile, and slapping it down on theta-collo, he exclaimed. ) " Here 1 goes—two ounces on that boss." t The cards were turned and, he lost. Again, and he won. The money fluctuated like' the pendit-, turn of a clock, until:rite dealer concluded be had Woe sirtficinstit to cover . flte amount in the grren one's hag and conserinently prepared to weigh it. ‘Vhile the :tales were being adjusted, the !add mart stood like a pillar—a snort pillar—wttli his lit. tle black eyes eirciimsetibed to focus, nl the in tensity cfthe gaze he heel upon th 6. shiniog' heaps spread out before him. Firitme Lad frowned upon 'ldol, anti his'ioin,l greasy feature's reflected that , frown upon thelninic. Ti. lie meantime an idle c ing crowd hail gath ered rouna.to look tor," specimens,'' and the deal. er ever ready to gratify) the curious, proceeded to empty the dirty look bag, u her to ! " the mono. rain labored ; and bicught forth ; tri t i7 About that tithe, two buttrMs ;are way on our vest—a general v,ufl.tw broke the Untle tr.rtn . .!4 rev. ery—Zl rap 'on the fare bn•ke his nose—:-.4en he broke for the loot vri:h a broken tumbler •fly - ir,g at hi:, back, anal a broken, v.-11*C . hi:. only Vvevie:il4. Rich I.cre The fell-ettirg al'iniratale hit nt thoNe 10ve..N14 sa-gr.is ho tuaulge in an extravagant protiiplity of honeyed words and hyperbolic phrases, a ilea addreNsizi; their thileitteas, we take from the Aber. dcen Independent. Such a rich .piece of lit.. erautre idiouli) be preserved:: 3.1( , ,t 1,-:»scendf•hl and egrngic.u.i Alki : Would that my pen were flipped M the dyes of the rainbow, plucked frOin the wings of an argil and mended with the prayer of an Mfant's wit t then i might expect to paint the burrfing brightness of that flame which thy-thrilling eloqience has.enz Unified.- Thou sun-beam of sentiment ! soft moon• light at modesty ! thy voice is as gentle as the first stirring of an ifilant"lstlream—thy step light as the silketi-tooted zephyr which -fanned with the tiring of perlimie the newborn paradise—thine eyes are two Linn:ants ? stole from a seraphic crown—thy lips are rivei , rose buds, moistened by the honey dew of alieethm—thy words are like drops of am ber—lthy teeth are snow-flakes set in a bed of vet- ' bena. Sweet ',spirit of camphor, double-distilled essence at hommpathy; ;our-kro . ut of my hoptx, sauce of my thoughts, butter-milk catsvps of 'my , faney; '''.'gt• r filly of innocence, loge-cod of perfec tion—thou art the julep, of my- dreams, ginger pop of my waking visions, and' etierry.bounce of my . ret•oller•tion. Thou ant as harmless as a tiger, handsome, as ar: elephant, melodious as a lion, meek as the hyena spotted as the leopard, bsiglii as the struzgling, sneezing sun-Tight, passing the mortal cracks of an old barn loft, or a greased streak of Woe Itgldiring Chtirned to a consistency in the , millly way, and peppered with a shower Of turnip tops, comets, and percoon roots from the crust of eternity. The onion of the soul ! pickled primp:, I • kin! pieserve*drab' of the garden ol Ilesper ide.— Thy glance is' as iteffing as old batter in summer time—thou nit a drop 91. water horn the cup of the, gods, or the juice of.a Kitten pine apple. To Crar A Fmsla.—A felon generally appears on the„eril of :be fingers cr thumbs; it is extreme ly pitinhil for weeks, and sometimes for months, and, in tno-t cases, cripples or Alisfig,ures the fin ger or thumblhat falls a victim to it. Hot it can ea sily be cured if attended to in time. As soon as the pain is felt, take the thin white skin of an rp, which is found inside next to the F pot it_ rotiad !tr.• end of the finger or thumb affected, and keep it there untilifie pain subsides: hs semi as the skin becontes dry, it will be very painfol, and .ikely continue so for half atr hour or more; but be not alarinett ,tilt•giows painful, bent - ft;' Wu-di bo of short duration in comparison to what the disensi3 wonkl be. - A cete wilt be elattain...':', A 1.1,1 y of l'alladetpitia gave a water-melon to her new eook, autl.taid hei to have it served, up for (limier. As the nreton did not make its appea rance at the . 'nape, tune, the Italy askettr-g. Why dal you not tiling ty that ineton.V , 1 " Sure, ma dam,'' was the reply, o the devit must hEve I)}eit away with it.•kor I so sooner put it inthe p't wallet; than it was all gone!" • Dian ? what kind of telre is it ilidt you .wan' to he—hardware, glass• ware,stune;o arc, or crock. ery!•warer , " Not ail, kind oi. ware, Simon.— What do you mean 3" " Why, thistneruin . ., when . it lightened i you'said, when' it stormed, person, always ought to be•teare." "'Peggy , pin this boys ears to his shodfilet-blaatts' ? and put.hiutto-bed." A pm Irt, 1850
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers