Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, July 03, 1852, Image 1

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5410 0ap filontinn, Itta 8, 1252.
From the Northern Christian Advoesti. •
Hi maniacs MA CZA.T.
Shame upon ihee, craven spirit !
Is ifmanly, just or brave,
If a troth has shone within thee,
To conceal the tight it gave I
Captive of the world's opinion—
Tree to speak—but get a slave.
All conviction should be vatient,—i.
Tell thy truth—f truth it be ;
Never seek to stem its current ;
Thoughts, like rivers, find the sea
It trill fit the widening circle .
Of Eternal Variety.
Speak thy thought if thou belietr'st it;
Let it jostle whom it may.
Len although the foolish scorn it,
Or the obstinate gainsay,
E re ry.eed that grotris to-morrow;
Lies beneath a clod to-day.
our sires, the'noble-heattbd
pioneers of things to come,
g a d, hke thee, been weak and timid,
Traitors to themselves, and dumb--
irbere would be our present knowledge—
Where the hope Millenium 1
Where would be triumphant science,
Searching. with her fearless eyes,
Ibrongh the infinite creation, -
for the sou) that underlies—
Boni of Beauty, soul of Goodness;
Wisdom of the earth and skies.
Where would be all great inventions,
Each from bv•gone fancies born,
Issued lint in doubt and darkness,
Launched 'mid apathy and scan 1
how could noon-time ever light us,
But fur dawning of the morn
Where world be our free opintois 4 =
Where the right to speak at all,
if nor sires, like thee mistrustful,
Had been deal to duty's call.
And concealed the thoughts within them,
Lying down for fear to fall
Thaugh an honest thought, ont-spriken,
Lead thee into chains or death—
What is life compared with virtue !
Shalt thou not survive thy breath
Hark ! the future age invites thee !
Ltsun ! trembler, what it saith
li demands thy thought in Justice,
Debt, not the tribute of the free;
Have not ages, long departed,
Groaned, and toiled. and bled Cur thee I
11 .he past have lent thee wisdom;
Pay it to futurity.
The diligence limn Paris to Chalons stopped one
remaq, just after dark, some miles beyond the
atielawn of flouvray, to set an English lady and
et ehild at a lonely roadsi!e Auberge. Mrs.
Iselin expected to find a carriage ready to take
or to Chateau de Senart, a distance of some
goes, whither she was repairing on a visit, but
a4l that it had not arrived. The landlady, a
ii.enarvedooking woman, who showed her into
he ,as hail :hat served at once as a sitting room
ki . ehen, observed that the roads were an mud•
'y and difficult airtight there was little chance of
erl, arriving before morning. " You had
Ler !herefore she said " make up your mind
"lei? here. We have a good room to offer you
iron will be much more comfortable between
patrol cleanwarm sheets, than knocking about
sour rough country, especially as your dear child
ems sickly."
MI Martin ihow , h much fatigued by her jonr
.er, he , ;:aled. A good night's rest wascertainly a
ertPlisg pro , peci. but she felt so confident that her
truld not neglect her, that after a moment
yrepheil : • thank you, madame, I will sit up
r l an hour or no, it is not late, and the carriage
2F come, slier all. Should it n6l, I shall be glad
'Y"r room, which you may prepare for me at
:y rare
The hostess, who seeme4 anxious her guest
sreei,Lnat remain in the great room, suggested
sofa fire might be made above; but Mrs M.
hersell so comfortable where she was—a
of la4pts was blazing on the hearth—that she
41%1 at first to move. Her daughter, about
, e years of age, soon went to sleep in her lap;
Std she !terse!, found that while her ears were anx
3afly listening for the roll of carriage wheels, her
Yes occasionally closed and slumber began to
%lc it; insidious approaches.
!a Order to prevent herself from giving way, she
s a , easore,l to direct her attention to the objects
hand her. The apartment was vast and lighted
tore by the glare of the fire than by the dirty can
-6'5 stuck into a filthy tin candlestick, that stood on
* ° ( lheJotig tables. Two or three huge beams
Wretched across half way' Op the walls, leaving a
Plee filled with flitting shadows above. From
IS'se depended a rusty gun or two, a sword, sever
al bags, hanks of onions, cooking, utensils, Brz.
There.trere few signs that the house was much
'Wed, though a pile of empty wine bottles lay in
° ,! e mer The landlady sat at tome distance
rarnAhe fire place with her two eons, wig/ laid
their heads together r.nd talked in whispers.
MIL Martin began to feel uneasy. The idea
Stirred her mind that she had fallen into a Wort
r oirbers—and the words C' bale elleP (it is .ebe,)
vbich vas all she beard of the whispered conver-
Mon, contributed to alarm her. The door lead.
s ag into the road was left ajar, shd for a moment
'4O felt an inclination to start up'and t eseape on loot.
She was far from any otherhabitifirin, and if the
People of the house entertained any evil &slimy
her allsurpt would only precipitate the dalainmene.
;lam'.:'(:':_ :'~e~.,L'c&r.::~iT - '~ ;~i~
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So she resolved on patience, but listened attentively
for the approach of her Wends. All she heanf was
the whistling of the wind, and the dashing of the
rain, which' had begun to fall just after her arrival. ,
About two hours pawed in this uncomfortable
war. At length the door opened'and a man drip•
ping. wet came in. She breathed more. freely; for
this new comer might frustrate the evil designs of
her hostess, if she entertained any.: Ha was a
haired, jovial faced looking man, and inspired her
with confidence by the frankness and ease of his
"A fine night for walking i" cried he,' shaking
himself like a dog who has scrambled ow of a pond.
" What have you to give me? Salute, messienre,
et mesdames. lam wet to the skin Hope I dis-
turb nobody. Give me a bottle of wine."
The hostess, in a surly, sleepy tone, told her ed
eat son to serve the gentleman ; and then address.
lug Mrs. Martin, said :
" You see your friends will not come, and you
are keeping us up to no purpose. You had better
go to bed."
"I will wait a little longer," was the reply,
Which elicited a kind of shrug of contempt.
The red haired man finished his bottle of wine,
and then said :
v Show me a roods, good woman—l shall sleep
here tO•night."
Mrs. Martin thought as he pronounced these
words, he cast a protecting glance towards her; and
she felt less repugnance at the idea of passing the
night in that house. When therefore, the red hair
man, after a polite bow, went up stairs, she said,
that as her friends had not arrived, they might as
well show her to her bed room.
" I thought it woultecoine to that at last," said
the landlady. " Pierre, take, the lady's trunk up
In a few minutes, Mrs. Martin found herself alone
in a spacious room, with a large fire burning on
the hearth. Her first care, after putting the child to
bed, was to examine the door. It closed only by a
latch. There was no bolt inside. She looked
aroural for something to barricade it with, arid per-,
teived a heavy theft of drawers. Fear gave
strength. She hall lifted, half ptished It against the
door. Not content with this, she seized a table to
increase the strength of her defence. The leg was
broken, and when she touched it, it fell with a crash
to the floor. A long echo went sounding through
the house, and she felt her heart sink within her—
But the echo died away and no one came ; so she
piled the fragments of the table upon the chest of
drawers. Tolerably satisfiedin this direction, she
proceeded to examine the walls. They were well
papered, and after careful examination, seemed to
contain no secret door:
Mrs. Martin now bank down into a chair to re
flect on her position. As was natural after having
taken all these precautions, the idea sugges•ed it
self that it might be superfluous, and she smiled at
the thought of what her friends won'd say when she
related to them the terrors of the night. Her child
was sleeping tranquilly, its rosy cheeks half buried
in the pillnd•. The t 1 hail blazed up into a bright
flame while the unsnuifed candle burned dimly.—
The room' was full of pale, trunbling shadows, but
she had no superstitious fears. Something posi
tive could alone raise alarin. She listened atten
tively, but could hear .nothing but the howling of
the wind over the roof,Land the pattering of rain
against the window panes. As her excitement di
minished, the latigue—which had been forgotten—
began again id make itself felt, and she resolved to
undress and go to bed.
Her heart leaped into her throat. For a moment
she seemed perfectly paralyzed. She had undress
ed and put out the candle, when she accidentally
dropped hbr watch. Stopping to pick it up, her
eyes voluntarily glanced towards the bed. A great
maps of red hair, a hand a gleaming knife were re
vealed by the light of the fire. Ater the first mo-
Mehl of terrible alarm, her pesende of mind return
ed &le felt that-she had herself cut off all means
of ePeape by the door, and was lett entirely to her
own resources. Without uttering a cry, but tremb
ling in every liritb, the poor woman got into the bed
by the side of 'her child. An idea—a plan—had
suggested itself. It had flashed through her brain
like lightning. It was the only chance left.
The bed was so disposed That the robber could
get from beneath it by a narrow aperture at the head
without making a noise ; and it was probable that
he would choose, Irom prudence-, this means of
exit. There was no curtail'_ in the way, so Mrs.
Martin, with terrible decision and noiseless energy,
made a running noose with her silk scarf, and held
it poised over the aperture by which her enemy
was to make his appearance. She had resolved to
strangle him in delence of her own life and that of
her child. •
The position was an awful one; and 'prohablr,
hail' she been able to direct= her attention to the sur
rounding tircumstances, she might have given ;ay
to her feafa and attempted to raise the house by her
screams. The fire on the hearth, unattended tn,
had fallen around, Ind' novi gate only a dull, gull
en light, with an occasional-bright gleam. Every .
object in the vast apartment glowed with a resiless
motion. Now and then a moose advanced stealthi
ly along the floor, but, startled by some noise ondef
the bet, -vent scouring back in terror to its hole.—
The child breathed steadily in its unconscious re.
pose ; the mother endeavored also to imitate slum
ber, but the man under the bed, uneasy in his poii
lion, could not help occasionally making a slight .
Mrs. Martin was occupied with only two ideas.
First she reflected on the extraordinary deluaicn
by which she htebeen led to see enemies in the
',triple of tho house iind a friend in the red haired
man; and secondly it struck her that as he would
fear no resiatinte from a woman, he might push
away the chairs that were in his way, regardless of
the noise, and thus avoid the snare that was laid for
him. Once she thought that whilst her riven - tie''' .
was strongly directed to one siot, he had made his
exit, sed was leaning user . her ;* but she . arde=
ZEOAIIDLESS OP , r'z. 1 • ' ."
ceived by a flickering shadow on the opposite. wall.
In reality there was no dingir that he would com
promise the success of his sanguinary enterprise ;
the shrieks of a victim put on its guard might alarm
the house.
Have you ever stood, hour after hour with your
fishing-rod in hand,, waiting with this feiobious pa :
tience of op angler for a nibble 4 lire have, you
have some faint idea oldie state of mind in which
Mrs. Marilli with far other. littera* At eitatte::-
passed the time, until an old clock on the chimney.
piece told one after midnight. Another source of
antiety no* present, itself-=the fire had naafiy
burned out. Her dizzy eyes could ieaicely see
the floor, as she bent with fearful attention over the
head of the bed—the terrible noose hangingi like
the sword of Damoclesi above the gloomy aperture.
is What," she thought, he delay hie appearance
until the light has completely died away 1 Will
it nut then be impossible for me to adjust the scarf
—to do the deed—to kill this assassin—to Save my
tielt and my child 2 0, God ! deliver him into my
A cautious movement below—the, dragging of
hands and knees along the floor—a heavy suppress
sed breathing—announced that the supreme mo•
ment was at hand. Her white arms were bared to
the shoulders; her hair fell wildly around her face,
like the mane of a lioness about to leap upon its
prey; the distended orbits of her eyes glared down
upon the spot where the question of life and death
was soon to be decided. Time seemed immeasu
rably lengthened out, every second assumed the
proportions of an hoar. But at last, just as all lines
and forms began to float before her sight through
an indistinct medium of blending light and dark.
ness, a black mass interposed between her eyes
and the floor. Suspense being over, the time of ac
(ion having arrived, everything seemed to pass with
magical rapidity. The robber thrust his head care•
fully forward, Mrs. Martin bent down. There was
halt•choked cry—the sound of a knife falling to the
floor—a convulsive struggle. Pull! pull ! pull !
Mrs. Martin heard nothing—saw nothing, but the
scarf passing between her two naked feet. She
had half thrown herself back, and holding her scarf
with both hands pulled with a desperate energy fcir
her life. The conflict had begun ; and one or the
other Must perish. The tobber was a powerful
man, and made lurioini eflorta 'o get loose; but in
vain. Not a sound escaped his lips—not a sound
ftom hers. The dreadful tragedy was enacted in
Well, Mother Guerard," cried a young man,
leaping out of a carriage that stopped before the
door of the Auberge neat morning, '• what nears
have you got for me? Has my mother arrived ?"
n ls it your mother.?" asked the landlady, who
seemed quite good humored after her night's rest.
" There's a lady up stairs waiting for some Iriends,
but she does not speak French easily, and seemed
unwilling to talk. We could sca , cely persuade her
to go to bed."
" Show me the room ! ' cried Arthur running into
the house.
They soon arrived before the door.
''Mother! Mother!'' cried he, but received no
The door is nnly la..i.thed, for we have no rob-
bers in this part of the cotintry," said the landlady.
But a formidable obstable oppose) their entrance.
They became alarmed, espebially when they heard
the shrieks of the little girl, and burst open the do,or.
The first object that presented itself was the face
of the robber, violently upturned Irdrit beneath the
bed, and with protruding tongue and eyeballs; the
next was the form of Mrs. Martin, in the position
in which we had left her. She was Still pulling
with both hands at the scarf, and glaring to
wards the head of the bed. The child had thrown
its arms around her neck, and was crying; but she
paid co attention. The terror of that dreadful night
had driven her mad. '
WILL YOU TAKE A SHEEP.- - A valuable friend and
an old farmer, about the time. that the temperance
retorrit was begining to exert a healthful influence
in the country, said io his hired man:
"Jonathan, I did not think to mention to you
when I hired on, that I think of trying to do my
work this year without rum. How much more most
I give you io do without?"
" Oh,' said Jonathan, don't care much about
it—you may give me what you please'
said the farmer, I will give you a sheep
in the hill, if you will do without.'
Agreed,' said Jonathan.
The oldest son then said—
' Father will yougive me a sheep if I will do
without rum?'
Yes, Marshall, you dhall hate a sheep if you
will do without' .
The - youngest son, a stripling, then . said—' Fath
er, will you give me a sheep 111 will do with
' Yes, Chandler, you shall have a sheep alio, i
will do without rum.' .
Presently Chandler spoke again.
" Father; had not you better have a sheep
too PI
This was a poser; he hardly thought that he
Could give up the " good creature," yet, but the ap•
peal was born a source not to be easily disregarded.
The result was that, the demon wad hencetortli
banished from the &bruised.
lluvaaea Pie.—Strip the Skin off the tender stalk
of rubarb, and Mice them thin. Put it in deep
plates lined with pfe cruet, 'Atli ai thi k lager of
rhubarb. A little grated lemon peel may be added.
Place over the top a thick crust, press it tight round
the e.lge of the plate, and perforate it with a folk,
that the crust may not burst while baking, and let
the juice of thepie escape. Bake about one hoot;
in a slow' oven. Rhubarb pie must not be quick
baked. Sortie stew rhubarbiturcire making 'it into
pies, but it is best without stewing.
0 - 3. The Rini of SalibaOven assurances thtt
he will not eat the mistienatiet.
The Odd Heldegre'm.
A yoaiig blergymin satin
,his study composing
a sermon. It was a bright spring morning and, in
order to concentrate his thoughts on the subject be
was writing Mr. Burton was obliged to, olose the
window blinds and ihht out the beatify of natlikb,
Which to him Was moat atiniciiie. In in obscure
light, his pen was beginning to move quite rapidly
When the wind blew his blinds open, and sent his
manuscript fluttering across the floor. The bunlight
gushed in, and at the same time, Mr. Burton's ideas
flew out.
iiiinea his chair and looked out of the wind
ow. Seamy charmed his eye, and the music of
singing oirds fell on his ear. Nature at that mo•
ment, appeared considerably . mote attractive i)uti)
theology. The green, leavel of the trees caused
im to forget the leaves of hit manuscript. The
plumage of the birds made him disgusted with his
grey goose quitls Yet Mr. Burton felt that he ought
io labor that morning.
In casting about hlin to find , an.excuse for his
idleness, he saw a chaise drive down the street and
stop before his own door. A good looking, plain
ly dressed young man helped oat a graceful, pret
ty girl and they mounted the steps together. Mr.
Button heard the door bell ring, and presently a
domestic came in to inform him that a young gen
tleman and lady wished to see him on particular
gl A marriage I am sure," thought the clergyman
He was not mistaken, The young man in a
frank, off-handed manner, told him that he had
called for the purpose.of being married to his com
panion ; and the girl's blushes told the same story.
Very well," said Mr. Burton, 8g lam always
ready to make young people happy. You love
each other V'
is We would wait a day or two if we did not,"
replied the youth. •
His companion blushed again.
" Have you witnesses 1" Asked the Clergy
" We are not rich," answered the bridegroom,
and could not afford the expense of bringing any of
bur friend* with us. Ifyou think we bad better
have %%funnies perhaps yod Might call in game
" It will be *ell Milo do," tia ill the Elarkiiinti
ca'led iu a kolinger itroth et and the house
" We are in something of a hurry," said the
bridegroom, as Mr. B. paused in the doorway to
gite dcime Orden!, to a domestic.
" I have got to go to mill this afternoon, and he
a long drive home."
" Stand up here then, and I will dispatch you,"
said the clergyman with a vain attempt at gravi
" You, George Chambers. promise to take this
woman to be your lawful wife P
George nodded.
" To love her in sickness and health, to share
with her your Joyi and sorrows, your bed and board
you promise 1"
Another nod.
And you Mary prehnise to take this man to be
your husband V
A nod and blush from Mary:
.g To love him—honor him r ,
Another nod.
" And obey him,"
A doubtful look from Mary.
" In all things reasonable f" asked the clergy=
And she nodded.
" And to make him a true and affectionate wife
Will you promisor
Mary gave a decisive nod. Mr. Burton added a
tew words, and pronounced them man and wife.—
Mary wiped her eyes and George drew a long
break The cletgyman made out his marriage
certificate to which the witnesses put their names ;
and ended by giving them a few Words of advice.
At the same time,Gecirge slipped something into
his hand, done up in a piece of white paper. At
terwards, the bride and bridegrcioat rode oft in the
chaise ; the house-keeper went to the kitchen
laughinz, the younger Burton returned to his book,
and the clergyman to his sermon.
Ae the latter sat down to write thinking all the
time of the queer marriage ceremony he had just
performed, he listlessly unfolded the bit of paper
the bridegroom had placed in his hands Perhaps
the preacher was anxious to know how much so
odd a man had fah able to pay =for his marriage
certificate. From the size of the piece, Mr. Burton
judged that his fee must be something handsome.
It was larger than a half eagle—larger even than an
eagle. Could it be a twenty dollar piece? The
paper being folded and re-folded, it was sometime
before the clergyman could get at the coin. Risco
flashy t,t It'll tithe wis considerably excited At
knoll he saw something very bright.: The sun
shone on it. It was ti new red cisr Mr. Burton
was a little disap'pointid ; but laughing at the ludi-
Crous inittake, he locked the cent op in his 'desk,
and devoted himself to his rierrnrie doting the re
mainder of the forenoon.
Six years had passed away. The successful Cler•
giman was one evening surprised tO si visit from a
stranger. A well dressed, fine looking than, tiftett,
his hat, bowed respectfully, and offered Mr. Burton
his hand.
, .
" Your memory is better than mine, if we hive
ever met before," said the clergyman." -
" ?Ay name is George Chambers." • ,
Mr. Iktfton . 6iti forgotten that be had ever kneei
such an iinlitridnal.
t thipt f can refresh I your memory by men-,
noning an ineident,"said gimp. you remem
ber marrying a . Coopleeis years ago, and receiving
for youriroubla one pent. . -
Mlle Mr. Burton laughed,-weatto, his, desk, and took
from ismall drawer a e roilo!paper. ' Unfold.
ing this, be vioJueed the ieteper in teletieeto the
1 qtestiee:
.. ;.:~~ y
-0 Yes ; I remember all about it now.
a tam the
"I remember yotir Countenance."
" You undoubtedly supposed that I Intended to
moult yon 1 0
- No-:-Ithenght you were poor '"
" ;So I was." 1 did not know that I could afford
'you any more Marriage you know is sort of lot
tery. Bad !wen you fire or ten dollars, ,, and of
apoor wife in return, you must - confeu it Woriki
have been a miserable bargain. Well, sir the wife
you gareme is a prike: lt, has taken me six long
years to find out all her virtues.
He placed a purse ir4 the hands of the astonished
minister, who hesitated to accept it
" You need not scruple to takait ; thanks to my
wife, lam now tolerably a rich man." , .
_The odd bridegroom took his departure.
Mr. Burton.ettarttiried the contents of the purse
*ith lively curiosity and he was not a little stir:
prised and gratified to find that they conaitaed of
ten half eagles—bright, shining—fresh from the
mint. • •
And that was the tat the c er n
''ret heard
of the odd hrhiegroom.
Island of Ceylon ; the %atio of elephants to tierfOriii
heavy labor can scarcely be estiiiiaced. A trav
eller saw a troupe of them at work near Colombo,
in the commissariat timber yard, or the civil engi
neer's department, in removing or stowing logs,
and planks, or in rolling about heavy masses of
stone for building purposes. I could not (says be)
but admire the precision with which they partorm
their allotted task, unaided, save by their own sa
gacity. They were one morning hard at work,
though slowly, piling up a quantity of ebony. The
lower row of the pile had been already laid down,
with mathematical precision, six Irv, "side by side.
These they had first rolled in from the adjoining
wharf ; and when I rode up, they were engaged in
bringing forward the next six for the second row in
the pile. It was curious to observe- these uncouth
animals seize one of the heavy logs at eabh end,
and by means of their trunks Lift it tip on the logs
already placed, and thee arrange it crosswise Upon
them with the moat perfect skill. I waited whilst
they thtis placed the third tow, feeling d edricisity
to know how they would proceed when fhb ildiber
had id be lifted to a &eater height. t °MI' a the
logs' weighed nearly twenty hundred weight. There
*as a short pause before the fourth row was touch
ed ; but the difficulty was no sooner ifereeived,
than it was overcome. The sagicioes animals se
lected two straight pieces of timber, placed one end
of each piece on the ground, with the other resting
on the top of the pile, so as to form a sliding for the
next two logs ; and having seen that they were per
fe,ctly steady and in a straight line, the four legged
laborers rolled up the slope they had just formed
the six pieces of ebony for the fourth layer on the
pile. Not the least amusing part of the perform.
ance was the careful survey of the pile made by
one of the elephants, after placing each log, to as
certain if it v:ere perfectly square with the rest.—
The sagacity of these creatures in . detecting the
weakness in the jungle-bridgeri thrown across some
of the streams in Ceylon is not less remarkable. I
have been assured that, when carrying a load, they
itivarisblt pais one of the fore-feet upcin the earth
covering dl the bridge, to try its strength.; and it
that (eels MS weak to carry them scrosO, they will
refuse to proceed until lightened of their load. On
one such oecrulion a driver . persisted in compelling
his elephant to cros a bridge against the evident
wish of the animal; and, Ili Wes expected by his
comrades, the rotted itmeture guee, may, elephant
and rider were precipitated into the river and the
latter was drowned.
in'in the course of a rezent letter to the, Editor
from a correspondent in Millsmil, there occurs this
passage, which struck us rather lavghtermoving
than otherwise: " Deputy Sheriff P—z—; of this
city was recently called upon to arrest a duly reg
istered " Attorney and Counsellor at law and Soli
citor," etc, on the charge of.having forged city or.
dere ; rathera small business by the way. Aber
'the arrest of David, the aspersed wished to be: ac
companied among his friends for .the purpose of
procuring bail. The sheriff, in - whose breast kind
ness and mercy are blended about, ' of and af,' with
the sternness and dignity and justice, complied ; but
his efforts were all unavailing. Night was draw
ing oa i tcavarrle its small hours, and he conld not
wait any fonger. Thu accused most go to jail. As
a last small favor, "David," wished to go home
and break the sad news of his arrest to the com
panion of his bosom. In view of this mournful task,
he was. , much agitated._ f!. Oh. Mr. P—," said'
he, " this is the hardest of all ! How will my dear.
wife bear up under the blow, she isa delicate crea.
ture, Mr P—, and her ruflerings will ,
me!" A sympathetic tear started into the north..
west corner ol the officer's left eye, rolled down ,
his manly cheek, rest for a moment upon his vest,. ' ,
and then diffract.' itself upon the snow flakes upcn
the ground, warming and melting even their obdu
rare hearts. They were met by a stalwart Amazo
nian whose large face shown with.the lartibent glo.
ries of an autumn sunset. David in a faltering
voice broke to her the terrible intelligence that she
drds to be robbed of her " bosom's lord." P—
, siood by to bear oluini Kelm should faint. " I am
sigrested deaf,, for, forging." " What the d—l is
' thal was the Alleoing.qciery of the" sensitive"
tamale. They accuse Ma of writing other people's
names, and are going to patMe in jail, aaij Itivg —r:
" Who to thunder is gelid to do it, P ‘ aver tepli
edam' ( 1 solicitous" wife; add riithipt waiting for
a reply, she proceeded to pile pp anathemas loud
and deep' on the heads of those who had , shught to
place r trim in chicanes vile., The sheriffr WV, over.;
whelmed by the affecting 'Cane; yet, sett a ruling
•gpaition" strong lor the luilicrons, hii touched the
priscineOightly-ander the fifth rib, with
tit gently pl ber, David,; shers delicate creature,
. .
isiet she 1"--gifickArcker:
Decent.lles of Lire:
There ate, some persona in the world, - lays the
Cincinnati Nonikiriel, Who ite order to screen them.
selves from the charge of eittaManee andtali";
iry to do. under the of decency. • Thopirper'
sons. will, many acterwhich, if they ' had true
Rem of decini t y; they would hesitate to petpetrate.
We think the tdlowing.are s few.otthe, Maur Plig4
bees that 'come under the agnomen of not bet*
decent :
It is not decent for a person to make a show
above his or her, pastansr... • • ' '• ••
it is not decent fora person to sup la debt When
he does not intend to pay.
It is not decent for persons to be always talking
iN el their4isighbons. • ; '
It is not decent to ascribe ,intirrpper tnotiiii to
every °name tbmir in coitus with. • •
. It is not decent for one to appropriate others re:
coniary means for their own gratification.
It is not decent for young people to show no re.
erect to,Me Aged.
is.notdebeiit to be irsistoll yourself always.
. h is not decent for young people to keep them.
ielyes. foi tiehOw. • -
It is not decent in persons going to plieesemgse•
men:s to incommode nthere diflerent &eels
It is not decent to spend your money in foolish•
ness, when you have debt; that ought to be paid.
It is not docent to slam your family by spendl
ng your money for liquor. , • • . •
It is not decent to be sending clog,. forjhe young
negtoes of Attica, when you halt id iiiuip nearer
It is not decent to Nay °nettling and mean tome
It le not decent to cheat your neighbor, becaus
you have more knowledge than he.
A Scars ni vat HOLT Leirn—Tne Wer.wor
atscea NUR HARAO.-4'hiis Well was to the with.
west, without the town. This was the direction she
would have come from ; and of all the wells, 166
alone was sweet and good. * • • • • *
As we eat; bamels trams and knelt by the well
and then the veiled girls came out in w long , file,
each with their pitcher on their shoulder, si in Holy
Writ it says " Rebbaxi Came with her pitcher on.
her ettoillder." And they one by one let down
their pitChers: the bearded men met to indulge ity
draught they ask for. At such a well could any'
sell in vain! The Bible says :—" she hastened and,
let doiin hei pitiher Upon her Bahr)." Wilb. puff•!;.
family there fi ti rope; this ii attached to handles
of the , pitchers, and the drawer—generally as now,
a woman or maiden—lets down the pitcher, thi
rope held by their hand. And here we eat and saw
this very scene.. We might pursue similee frotbiek;_
the dress, even the veil, for tie hear, when Hebei.
ea knew the man .who sat in .the. field was Isaac,.
she toot a ved.aiid !covered herself. • This. Rhos*
she had done so before, or she would not have end
ready, or even at all. r. •
The objection that Ehezar made > was one 114
would arise this day among alleatseie, and perhaps.
among them only ; " peradventure, the woman wilt
not be willing to follow me to this land " The well
like many others, had a square stone at the top,
with a circular hole to draw water, and near stood•
—this is usual aiso.zriuteurrons.stintirtcongtis, some:
higher, dome lower, kir the different description of
animals to drink out of, and we read, "she hasten..
tened anJ emptied her pitcher into the trough."—.
The pitcher itself, as may be seen from the Nine,
vah and gentile° excavations, was of exactly the -
shape used still. Little did those laughing girls—
Relarrekati, Raohels, and Sandie, perhaps—think of.
the reason we watched their.every motion soaks&
ly, and of thedeep.interest tee took in every step of
what seemed to them a mere daily duty, but to uI
a wonderons record or the past.—llon E. Walpole,
otrards in the East. „. _
Tat BOY AND TNT BRICT7A Fatur.—A bey
hearing his fatiier.say, " poet sule.that
not work both Wais,",said : " abutter applies thin
rule about.his,work, I will test it by.rny play." •,.
So setting up a row of bricks, three or four inch
es apart, be tipped over the first, which, strikingthe
second, caused it to fall on the third, which over:.
turned the fourth, and so on through the whole
course, until all the bricks lay prestmta. ,
" Well," said the boy, "each •brick kerked
down his neighbor which stood neit to him; I Oily . ,
tipped one. I will see if raising one will raise al t
the rest."
He looked in vain to see them rise. .1
" Here lather," said the boy, " 'tis a poor rule,
'twill not work both ways. They , knOck each other
down, but will not raise each other up" .
" My son," said the father, "bricks artd,ataa, ;
kind are alike made of .play,, aFtivc in kopekiag.
each other down, bat not disposed to help each
other up."
" Father," said the boy, di does the first brick
represent or resemble the fist Mirror'
The father replied in the following,
le When men fall, they love companyi but when
they rise, they love to stand alone, like fonds:
brick, and see others proistrate below them. Bat,
my eon, this is crintrary to b that liamerity Chesil
which we ought ail to possess, and newer let it be
so with you."
A darkie having been to California ) , thus speaks(
of his introduction to iritt, rtin&isco::—A.As ,sotta
as day landed in Ile ribber, der mods began to wa
ter to be on rfe, Min d, soon dey waded to de ,
abere,,deg di'd:qs4,tini,goold but dey found. such
a larga,surOy nogo to pat, dat der gums crack
ed like baked clay in a lalakyaid"
..134r An itemizer;. al ! an, evening sewing pa r ty, :
reptma that . one yeneg lady made . the ey.ponbeino ;.
" ljhotight J shoat have died l". one. hundred
and iiveatiei;iht times; and !he ; pp! shy eagni•y4 4
e, you seer 1 9 one hundred end Wei-tem
, ,•'.-:-:'•-;•_-.;=:.'..,..,,