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