WAIAME giro
TOW ANDA:
SatuOap fanning. langnist 5. 1854.
,stltritl) ottr.
"ALL.THY WORKS PRAISE THEE.*
az multi' ROWILTM
Th. moonbeams on the billow)! deep,
The blue waves rippling on' the strand.
The ocean in its peaceful sleep,
Tho shell that murmurs on the sand.
The cloud that dims the bending sky.
The bow that on its bosom glows,
The sun that lights the vault on high,
The stars at midnight's calm repose,
These praise the Power that arched the sky
And robed the earth in beauty's dye.
The melody of Natortos.ihoir,
The deep;toned anthems of the sea,
The wind that tones a viewless lyre.
The zephyr on its pinions free,
The thunder with its thrilling notes,
The peal upon the mountain air,
'be lay that through the foliage floats,
Or sinks in dying cadence there:
These all to Thee their voices raise,
A fervent song of gushing praise.
The daystar, herald of the dawn,
As the diok shadows flit sway,
The tint upon the cheek of morn,
The dew drop gleaming on the spray,—
From wild birds in their wanderings,
From mreifillets leaping to the sea,
From all earth's fair and lovely things.
Nth living praise ascend to Thee:
These with their silent tongues proclaim
The varied wonders of Thy name.
Father. Thy hand hath formed the dower,
And dung it on the verdant lea;
Thou bad'st it ope at summer's hour,—
Its hues of beauty speak of Thee,
Thy works all praise Thee ; shall not man
:Mks attune • grateful hymn!
Shall not by join the loftiest strain,
Ethtied from hearts of seraphim I
We tune to thee our humble lays,
Thy mercy, goodness, love, we praise.
cgclutt. Galt.
i:OMETHING ADVANTAGEOUB,
A FAMILY FRACAS
1 once alencied a very poor old man, of the name
ct Jordan, in his last illness. I call .him poor : yet
he was not in want, and had about him the corn
..orts of,tire. When he was near his end, he said
:
•• D 0.2 or, I want to know the truth from you.
in the habit of being flattered , by the world
here was a time, indeed, when it fooled me to
in , p of my bent f' but that was long ago. Do
43. Ila:er me, but tell me your real opinion Shall
1 so. , n die, or shall I yet linger on a brief career in
world I am quite willing to be done with?"
•• You desire me," replied I, " tb be candid with
'u and I will. You are on your death bed."
• Haw roan shall I be immortal!"
‘ .. 1 . 1.ai I cannot Say But your hours, as lie as
utii'an experience can teach me to predict, era
:1U rnbeted
He was silent for a few moments, and a *Bei
rpasm passed across Ai., face.
• Well," he said, "it is the lot of all. I - have
11 enough." '
' Is there no friend or relation, Mr. Jordan,"
rail 1, "to whom you vrou'd wish to r.end I You
a•e here, as you have often told me, gage alone in
1)1.11 , 1;;.1. Perhaps you woo would like to / revive
some 01. l recollections before yciu leave the world.'
'• Not one," he said.
" Are you so completely isolated r' •
" Most completely. I have tried all relations
and found them wanting. But still I have remem
bered them and made my will. It is nvw between
the mattress and the sacking of this bed, and Mr
b taw, the only honeat attorney I bare ever met
h, and lA ho resides to Lincoln's-Inn Fields, will
carryinly intentions into effect. I was rich once in
early life. Now dark a day !"
"What day "
To day. How dark and misty it has come
crer,
His sight was piing, fast, and I felt certain that
I would require but little patience, and is small
isacr.fice of rime, to see the last of Mr. Jordan.
" Yes," he continued !peaking in an odd, spas
make mariner, " Yea, I was rich, and had many a
crawling sycophant about me, many smiling faces
at my board ; but there came a reverse, and, like
lair flowers at a sudden frost, my friends hid their
heads. I was nearly destitute, and thinking and
believing that the tie of blood woukl be strong
enough to bind to me, in my distresses, thosewtth
whom 1 claimed kindred, and whom had been de
lighted to claim kindred with me, I went to them
a Trtvnr '
" And tailed."
" And (ailed, as you say. They dropped from
me one by ens. Some remembered slight offen
ces, some were newer at home, some really thought
I must have been dreadfully.improvident, and. on-
LI they were convinced I had not been, could Dot
&Rat me. Doors were shot in my lace—window
Minds polled_down as I pawed. I was shunned as
a peslilenee—rny clothes were in rap—my step
feeble (roan long want otcommon necessaries ; and
than an old sehool companion died in the Wee In
dies, and left me twenty thousand pounds, which
I received' through the hands of Mr. Shave."
" A large fortuee. And your relations?'
" Heard it, and were frantic. I disappearedfrern
Ulan all From that day — to this, they' have net
heard from ate. D 9 yen love wild flOvirs 1"
" Wild flowerbl" '
' Yes. ' Here are herbs, jut from the teeming
garden. Look, too, how yen cherub twines dims
In her hair! The stream flows deep to eternitj."
" Mr. Jordan, sir," i cried, Mr. Jordan dmyou
know me +"
THEi.:.,BRABFORD --- -.REPORTER.
" Come hither, laughing, gentle spirit," he said.
" Bring with you your heap of floral gems. Yee,
I know this is the sweetest violet, Mary, my Mary!
God knows I lore yob."
It wu a strange thing at that moment, but the
blind of the window, which I had drawn op to the
top,came suddenly rattling down,snd the:foom wu
quite dark. I raised it again, then turned to the
bed; Mr. Jordan was a corpse !
What a remarkable change had in thou few mo.
manta come over the old man's face ! The sharp
lines of age had all disappeared, and there wu a
calm, benign expression upon the still features,
such u in life I never saw them wear.
4 ' A restless spirit is at peace," I said, as I lelt
for the will where he told me it was placed, and
found it. It was merely tied op with a piece of
red tape, and addressed to Mr. Shaw, 20 Lincoln's
Inn Fields; so I resolved to trust to no other me*.
senger, but to take it , in my hand myself. I told
the landlady of the house that her lodger was no #
more, and that she would no doubt hear immedi
ately from his solicitor; and then I left.
" Well, Mr. Shaw," I said, atter I had mention.
ed the manner of Mr. Jordan's death, " here is the
will, sir ; I presume I have nothing further to do
than to thank you for yotir courtesy, and to bid you
good evening."
" Stay a moment," he said. "Let me look at
the document. Humph! a strange will. He leaves
the form of an advertisement here, which is to be
inserted in ill morning papers calling his relations
loge bar to hear the will read."
" Indeed !"
" Yes. Well, I shall, as I see that lam named
trustee, do as he wishes. He statekthat he is very
poor."
" Why, he spoke to me of £2O NO!"
" Did he, really 1 A delusion, sir, quint a delu
sion. £20,000! Hu had that amount twenty-five
years ado. But, sir, as you have attended him, and
as 1 happen to know he had a high opinion of you,
I should like you as his friend, to be wi:n me, as
it were, in lu;ure proceeding connected with this
will.'
" In which there is a mystery, eh, Mr. Mawr
" A little perhaps a Ilnle bit of post mortem re•
venge, that is all, which I am not now at liberty to
descant upon. But I will take care to coincide with
you, and I shall hope that you will follow an old
friend to the pate."
I promised that Much, and dtili attended the
funeral. It was a quiet, walking affair, and from
the manner of it I felt guise convinced that there
were no funds to make it athet*ise. A mood of
earth alone marked the spot, in the little church
yard at Barnes, where Mr. Jordan slept the sleep
that knows no waking. A drizzling rain came
down. The air was cold and eager, and t returned
home hom the funeral of Mr. Jordan about as en.
comfortable as I could.
• * • • • • •
The next day the following advenisement ap•
peared in the morning paper, and caught my eye
as 1 eat at breakfast:
‘! If any of the relations of Mr. John James Jot
dan, deceased, will call at the office of Mr. Shaw,
30 Lincoln's Inn Fields, they will hear of some
thing ad santageous.*'..
I made op my mind to call open Mr. Shaw do•
ring the day, and about three o'clock reached his
chamber; or rather, I reached the staircase leading
to them, and. there I had to stop ; for it was quite
besieged by men & women, who were all eon vers.
I .g with great egarness.
" What can it mean t' said one old woman
•, I'm his aunt, and of course I speak for my
Ned I"
" Well, bat bother your Ned," said a man ; be
hardly belongs to the family. I'm his brother.—
Think of that, Mrs. Dean."
"Think of what ye Iwo legged goose I"
1, Poh, poh I" said another man ; 4, I knew him
very well. I'm his cousin. Halos!—what this
who ere you I'
A woman in tattered garments, bat who still look
ed like a beautiful one, stood hesitatingly aC the
foot of Me stairs.
" Is this Mr. thaw's I" she said. 44 Hash, Mary,
hush ! don't, my dear."
" But I'm hungry, mamma," said a little girl,
who was holding by a handful of her dress.
" Oh, Mary, do not, dear ; we—we - shall soon
k o home. Hush, dear, bush ! Is this Mr. Shaw's I"'
" Tev," said; a fat woman, " and who is you,
pray I''
" I—l saw an advertisement. I am hi. sister
Grace's only child. My name is Mary Grantham
This is my only child. U. is fatherless and bas
been so for many a day.'•
What," cried a Ingo, " are yoiitur Mary tbro
be broke his heart about V'
" Broke his fiddlestick," said the fat woman.—
" He was fifty when he died."
&aka kis heart kw met" asked the poor-look
ing woman with the child. " Good God, do I live
io bear that?"
" Yon had better go up to the solicitor at once"
`whispered I. " Come, I will show you his doer."
I 'made way for her through the crowd of persons
and we soon reached the chamber. " Here is
another of Mr. Jordan's relation's Mr. Shaw," said
1. (c' I find you have had quite a levee."
II I have, indeed, doctor. You must come at
twelve o'clock next Monday, madam, when the
will of Mr. Jordan will be teed by me to all fees
eat?'
lihank you, sir," She was about to leave the
diatribes when I interposed— .
" Varian me, madam," I said, " hat as I was
the only person with Mr. Jordan at the time of Itis
decease, I wish to ask Too a qustioo• It I mis
take not, your name was the laM that passed his
lips. . 1 Maly, my Mary," be said," God knows
that I Wed you ' 0
Sba sank into a chair and bone into tears.
" Yoo. then," I added, a' an the Meg whom he
loved. Mi. why did you pot, it you,eass weep for
Dim new, mimes* the pameiour ,
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH,
gg ,ttliiiigt, tisiNtlNditiTiois /goal ANY A1ti8111Z."
I did love him," she cried, " God knoll's, sad
be is now with his God, knows how I loved hiM.
But evil tongues came between us, and we were
separated. He was maligned to me, and I was
wearied by treaties and tears until I married anoth
er. She who has turned me from him, and sever
ed two hearts that would and should have been
all the world to each other, confessed the sin upon
ber death-bed."
" Who was it l" said Mr. Shaw.
" His mother ! From no other source could I
have believed lb. tales that I was told. But I did
not then know enough of the world to think that
there were mothers who could malign their own
children. We were separated—my husband died,
leaving me that last little one of many. We were
very, very poor—no one would help us—an ac
quaintance showed me the advertisement, and
urged me to come—it was a false hope. But I
find that there are strong arms and brawling
tongues below, that I cannot contend against."
" Never mind that," said the solicitor, 14 it is
my duty to read the will on Monday, and as a re.
lesion at is your duty to attend at the same time. I
tell you to have no expectations."
I saw Mr. Shaw try to slip some money' into
her hand, and I saw a crimson Bush come over
her lace as she said, " We can still work," and
then fearing that she had been harsh to one who
wished to be kind, she shook his hand in both of
hers, and said," God bless you, sir ; I thank you
trom Jny heart."
"-Bing, bang ! came to the door of the chamber
a minute atter Mary left, and upon its being open.
ed, a min of about five or six and thirty made his
sppeirance.
" Something advantageous !" he gasped, for he
WU oat Of breath ; " what—what ia Rl—Give it
me, give it me ! How much 1 Good God, don't
let anybody else have it. I'm his youngest broth
er—give it me."
" If you will attend here at twelve, on Monday,
the will will be read."
Bang, bang,
.bang !
I'm thoroughly beseiged,' . said Mr. Shaw. Now
madam, who are you!"
" Something advantageous," screamed a mas
cultne,looking woman. '4 I'm a relative—what is
it—come on my dears. Here's my five dear
daughters and my baby—come along."
" Bevil with you," cried the youngest broth
er, pettiahly.
" Did you speak to me, you wretch," said the
lady, and she planted a blow in his lace that made
him reel again. " Take that"; 1 know you are a
sneeking hound, you used to be called the chim.
pancee in the (tinily, you poor scorched up look
ing bundle of cat's meat."
Several more arrivals now took place, and poor
Mr Shaw was fairly bewildered. Sounds of con
tention arose on the staircase. Shrieks from fami.
ly combatants came upon our eats, and finally, I
advised Mr. Shaw to paste a placard on the outer
door of his office, oh which Was written. .
" The will of Mr. Jordan will be read here on
Monday next, at twelve o'clock precisely."
The riot gradually enfolded The eve cattle on,
and all the relitions of the deemed had been gone.
Mr Shaw and I supped together, and I promised
to be with him punctually at 12 o'clock on Mon
day, for I was as curious as any body could be to
hear the will read, and at all events, anticipated a
bustling scene upon the occasion. I was not doom
ed to be disappointed.
It is a habit of mine rather to be too early, than
to be too tale, and itt the present instance I found
it a most useful one, for I really almost doubt it I
boo ki have got into the chamber of Mr. Shaw at
all if I had been later than I was. I had fairly to
push Mrs Mary Grantham in despite a vigorous
opposition, and a man stopped my own entrance,
crying—.
t' Who are you f What relation are you I"
" His granfather's uncle" said I ; and if you
don't make gray there, I'll pull the nose off your
CM
It was well that Mr. Shaw occupied very-spa
cious chambers, or otherwise he c3uld not have
accomodated one ballot the persons who came to
the reading of the will, and newer in my life did I
see such malignant looks pars from one to the oth
er as shot from the eyes of the relations. It was
a most pitiful picture of human life.
' Ladies and gen.lemen," said Mr. Shsw, ahem
ahem!'
There was a death like stillness
" Ladies and gentlemen, I am commissioned to
read to you the--the—what shall I call it!--it is
hardly a will—of the late Mr. Jordan. No, it cer
tainly ought not be called a will, properly speak
ing, is a testamentary"
" Read, read, read !" cried a dozen vocal
u Well, ladies and gentlemen, I am glad to see
you are all in 'respectable mounting."
( 1 Except one," said the younger brother;—
u there's Mary bathe was so fond of. Oh, dear
me, she only comes for what she can get."
Mrs. Grantham burst into tears. There was a
little shabby piece of black crape, upon her atm,
and another upon the arm of the child.
" I could not," she said ; " I could not do more.
God help me; 1 bad not the means."
" Read, read !" cried all the voices.
u Ahem," said Mr. Shaw, reading; u I, John
James Jordan, being very poor, and having in vain
called upon every relation I have in the world for
assistanee, and found none, have to state that my
heart was filled with bitumen end uncharitableness
towards them. Bat still I think they are not dead
to all feeling; and this being my last will and testa.
meat, I desire that my debts, ounormtiog to the stun
of one pound, three sbillinp, and eight pence, be
?aid forthwith oat of my estate ; that my funeral be
.frictiy private in Barnes' churchyard, where 1 last
parted with one Whom I loved, but who has gone
abroad, I am told; and to that one my relations
wile will inlet a tomb slope, I beqoesetep.-" _
1. Hark ! will yoo r cried one ;" be quiet. Go
d • • *
an—yes, ya• Oh! you wretch, where's you feel•
Mg.! Go to the--
11 Really, !idiom and gentlemen" aid I, " this is
most indecorous."
" I bequeath," 4ontinued Mr. Shaw, " my dying
blessing and torgiveneu
Mr. Shaw then folded op the will, and put it in
his pocket, saying—
" I wish you all good morning, ladies and gen
tlemen. I sold the few clothes and other matters
he died pasiessed of, and paid for the funeral, and
his debts; being myself minus one shilling and tour
pence, which I hope you will some . of you pay.
It is quiet impossible by any words to fairly de.
pict to the reader the appearance of Mr. Jordan's
relations at this moment. If the fabled Gorgon's
head had suddently appeared, and transformed
them all to a stone, they could not have looked
more completely paralysed and panic-stricken.
" A tombmpne."
" A tombstone," said Mr. Shaw. " A small one
would not cost mach. You could put on its, suit.
able inscription. Here lies—"
" Lies here—never mind," said the brother,—
" Never mind. I-oh, that's all, is it."
"You are a humbug," said the masculine wo•
man, to Mr. Shaw," and so was old stupid Jordan''
" Go to the deuce, all of you," showed another.
"A tombstone, indeed."
Mr. Shaw was wiping his spectacles.
" Ladies and gentlemen, allow me ,to add—"
"Oh, stuff, stuff; bother. A tombstone indeed.
I shan't stay another moment. An old thiel—l
wish a tombstone had been down has throat. Come
on. 'lt's a do." •
' l ,llot, ladies and gentlemen !"
They were quiet deaf to the remonstrances of
Mr. Shaw, and in a few moments the chambers
were quiet clear, with the exception of Mrs. Mary
Grantham, who was sobbing bitterly. She then
rose and looked at me hesitatingly. Then she
looked at Mr. Shaw, and she seemed to be strug
gling to say something. She placed her hand in
her bosom, and drew forth a ring tied to a black
ribbon, and then v:ith a c.rovolsive effort she spoke
—'• This—this ring—it is my only valuable pos
session. It was given to me thirty years ago by
him who is now no more, my cousin John, who
loved me. j have clung to it in pain and sorrow,
in difficulty aml distress. I have never parted with
it. I seemed to be not wholly separated from him
while I bad it near my bean. Bot now, great
distress forces me—to—to part with it. Will—will
neither of you, gentlemen, boy it of me. I shrink
from its going into the hands of utter strangers."
"Humph,"- said Mr. Shaw. "There are a
couple of sovereigns for it.
She took the money, and then, after one long,
lingering lotik, and a fervent kiss at the ring, she
laid it on the table and tottered from the place.—
I was about to follow her, but Mr. Shaw held me
back.
" Hold, hold !" he said,
You're a brute, sir," maid 1. " Take your
bands off of me; I will boy the ring of you and
give it back to her It breaks her heart to part wall
it I see."
" 1 shan't part with it," he said; " you are a very
hasty man, doctor."
1 was very angry, and bounced out of his office.
I looted eagerly about for Mrs. Grantham, but
could not see her. I walked hurriedly across the
square, and as chance would have it, 1 went in the
same direction she did. My first impulse was to
speak to her, and my second thought was to lollow
her, and see where she went. She crossed Hol
born, and traversed some of the long streets that
head in the New Road, where she arrived at last,
and finally parried at a stone mason's yard.
I could have shed tears at that moment, for now
1 felt why she had parted with her cherished ring
She stayed about a quarter of an hour at the stone
mason's, and then she came out and walked slow•
ly away. I did not follow her further, but went
into the mason's yard, and said to him—
" Did that lady gite yciti an order ?"
"Why. yes, sir, such i one as it was. She has
got me to do a stone for two pounds, end she's paid
me. I'm to meet her at the.chgrch-yard at Barnes,"
to-morrow morning at &Clock, with it, and put
op. It's only to have on it the name of John
James Jordan, and under that, " God bless him."
I walked away wttb a son of mist about my eyes,
and it was an hour below I recovered my compo
sure. " I will meet her,' thought I" at the grave
of her last love, and I wall be a triend to her it she
has never another in the world. She shall have
her ring agairr if I force at from the lawyer. She
shall have it. I'll go and get it now at once."
I suppose I looked In a very tolerable passion
when 1 got back to Mr. Shaw's chambers. for he got
behind a table when he saw me, am/ said.
" Come, come, no violence."
" Hark you sir," said 1; " you have got the ring
There's your money. then it to size directly, sir.—
Mrs. Grantham, poor thing, is going to morrow
morning, at nine o'clock, to plane a' stone at the
grave of Mr. Jordan, and I intend to be there, and
give her ber ring."
" Oh, very well. Bother the ring—l don't want
it. It ain't worth half the money I gave for it.-
1 here it is ; don't bother me."
I took op the ring, and then pit down two sow.
ensigns, and casting upon him a withering look,
which to tell the truth he did not seem ,much to
care about, I left the chambers.
A soft, damp, white mist covered up all objects,
and made the air uncommonly raw and chilly, as
on the following morning, just as the clock of the
church ea Barnes chimed dues quarters put eight,
I entered the cbuteltyanl.
The Am thing I then did was to fall ow, some
body's grave, for I was looking for Mrs. Grantham
instead of minding where I was walking; and then
a voice said—
e' There you go again, as violent as usual, doe.
tor," and is the dim mist I saw Mr. Shaw, the so
lichee, 10 my great =prim
I was going to say tosttoutioa s but at that moment
I was nearly knocked down aagin by somebody
brushing put me. A gleam of sunshine came out,
and the mist began to clear away, few yards ofl
was the grave of Mr. Jordan, and kneeling by it
was Mary, his first love, with her child by her
side. Mc. Shaw stood to my left, and at her feel
there knelt a respectable looking young man I rec
ollected as Mr. Shaw's clerk.
" Good God ! Richards," sail Mr Shays ; is that
goal What is the matter r!
" On, sir," said Richards, "I have come to ask
your forgiveness. The spirit of my poor old father
stood by my bedside all night. Oh, God ! Oh, God !
it was dreadful ; and I knew what it was for. Oh,
forgive Ole. I peeped into the will, sir, while
you went out to dinner—Mr. Jordreskwel—and
—and I went round to all the relations, and sold
the secret for two pounds a piece, and—and—"
Mr. Shaw gave a jump that astonished me.
" Doctor, doctor," he shouted, "tor God's sake
run down the London road and bring tbe man wit
the gravestone. On, good gracious. Oh, curse
you Richards. Ha, ha, ha. Oh, here he is. Oh,
bless you, for a prudent stone mason ; you shall go
well paid for this job.—Hip, hip, hip,—horrah."
I thought to be sure that Mr. Shaw most have
gone mad. There was a man looking over the
railing of the churchyard wi:h a spade on his shoul
der, and to him Mr. Shaw said :
" Five guineas for that spade "
The man thought he was mad, and tried to run
away, but be dropped the spade, and in another
moment Shaw's coat was off and be was dig
ging away like fury.
"Where's the stone T" he cried, " bring the stone.
That's right. Poke it in—prop it up. That's the
thing—all's right. Here we are —Another knock .
All's right—all's right."
" Lot," said the stone mason, as he lifted op his
bands; " look there."
I looked in the direction he indicated, and there,
to my astonishment, I saw arriving cams, coaches,
cabs. and wheelbarrows, and each contained a
a tombstone. A regular tight ensued at the entran
ce of the churchyard, and engaged in the fight I
recognized the relations of Mr. Jordac. Heavens,
how they cubed each other.
" Hold," cried Mr. Shaw , " your are all too late,
'Monet you had information you ought not to
have Lad. There is already a stone on Mr. Jor
dan's grave, and placed, too, by one who knew
what you all knew. Listen to the conclusion of
the will,—" And to that one of my relations who
will erect a tomestrme to my memory, I bequeath
my blessing and forgiveness, and eighty thousand
Pounds in bank stock." Madam," -s-to Mrs. Gran.
tham—t: I congratulate yon."
" And there's your ling," said 1; " Mr. Shaw let
us shake hands. 1 understand you now."
" Ha, ha!" said Mr. Shaw. " Ladies and gen
tlemen, you had better all of you keep the tomb.
stone for yourselves. You can grt the name alter
ed, for if you don't I'm very much afraid you will
not find them " something advantageous."
THE Wit ls.ccr —There is a little Insect in
China called cocus pe la, which turns to wax after i t
is full grown and ready to die. The Chinese take
great rains to hatch this insect from the egg, which
are carefully preserved and properly treated. As
soon as the eggs are ha - ched they are induced to
ascend,' tree. Fixing themselves on the branches,
the young insects speedily commence the forma
tion of a white waxy secretion. which, becoming
harder suggests the idea of the trees being covered
with hoar frost. The insect itself becomes gradually
imbedded, or changed into wax. The brancltes of
the trees are now scraped, the collected matter con•
tituting the crude wax. The time of collecting
probably caries in different districts, some authors
give June, and others August. as the period at
which the wax harvest takes place. At the latter
period—August or September-=the waxy matter I
becomes so firmly attached to the tree, that its re
moval would be attended with much difficult) ;
and it is of wax thus left, and at this period, that a
sort of cocoon is formed, which the eggs of the
insect are deposited. The nest or cocoon, which
is stated to be of size of a rice-grain, gradually in
creases until, the following spring, it becomes as
large as a hen's egg, suggesting, when attached to
the branch, the appearance of a fruit. The cocoons,
called la chung or let tsze, which enclose multitude,
of eggs, are removed, sometimes together with a
piece of the branch on which they were fixed, and
reserved far the further propagation of the insect.
A t.wsys I:art-arr.—Never do anything rashly
So reader, just sit down, rest your elbows on the
Lible, make your arms two pillar', rest your chin
upon the palms of your hands, look straight ahead
and hi ,k—tak• : a cursory survey of your past and
present life. What a queer thing it is; almost ev
ery thing has turned out different from wbat you
expected. How you have changed in purpose, in
condition, in character and in everything &Ante the
small amount of clay which you inhabited became
animated. After you have reflected fully on the
varied events of your life, and reviewed yobr past
existence in all its bearings, go to work and make
the beat of the circumstances around you, be they
what they may. This is the best advice we can
•
give you.
Qtr A good story is told of a Michigan man
who recently went into Indiana to buy • drove of
horses. Be was longer than he had intended is
be absent, and failed to meet a business engage.
went. On being father reproached for not being
at home, he made doe apology. " I telly/to
how it is squire, at ivory little darn town they want.
ed me to stay and be President of a Bank."
1);:r 'Sever be east down by trifles. If a spi lei
breaks his thread twenty times, twenty times is IE
be wind it again. Make up your mind to do a
thing is mammas, and you will do it. Fear not it
trouble eon's. upon you; keep up yotn spirits
tough the der be a dark one.
THE SONG OF LABOR.
Drive the plough, the 'bottle throw n
Wield the woodman's axe.
Delve sod dig the earth below—.
Exertion ne'er relax.
The tree w.ts made for man to tell,
The mine for bim to sink,
His task to clear the wooded drill.
And dam the river's brink.
Brothers come I Jet's reap the cont.
And stack it high and dry ;
We'll gather ripe and luscious scut,
Beneath the autumn airy :
From every field. and every dale.
Let sounds of labor rise;
'T will make us manly, noble, hale.
And all lire's b:essinas prise.
1 , Let drones, who dream away the hour
Of dull, insipid ease,
Do as they will—our labor power
Shall - always rise o'er these.
Then quick ! beat out the molten bar,
And make the anvil
riag—
We're happier than the drone by far.
And labor as we sing.
A Micetoart Ben 800 Stoat —The editor of the
Grand River Eagle has a friend who has been slop
ping, as he alleges, at one of the hotels in Kalarna•
zoo. His story is pretty fairly told, and he posses•
es talents in the way of spinning 't yarn" that would
do credit to one who has entertained his mess in
the forecastle of a whaler, or relieved the tedium
of a watch on deck. " You see I went to bed prat•
ty all fired well used op, abet a hull day on the
old road before the plank was laid, calkalatin' on
a good ennoz. Waal, just as the shivers began to
cast off, I kinder felt suthin' tryin' to pull off my
shirt and diggin' their feet into the small of my
back to get a good hold. Wiggled and twisted,
doubled and pockered--all to no use—and kept
goin' it like all sin. Bimeby I got up ani struck
a light to look around a spell—found about a peck
of bed-bugs scattered around, and more droppin'
my shirt and ronnin' down my legs every mind
Swept a place on the floor, shook out a quilt, lay
down and kivered up for a nap. No use—mount
ed right on to me like a parcel of rats on a meal
tub—dog a hole in the kilter 11d, and crawled thro'
and gave me fits for tryin' to bide. Got up a g ain,
went down stairs and got the slush bucket from the
wagon, brought it up and made a circle of tar on
the finer—lay down on the floor on the inside, and
telt comlortable that time any bow. Left the light
bumm' and watched 'em. See them get together
and have a camp meetin' about it; and they went
oft in a squad, with an old gray beaded one at the
top, right up on the wall on the ceiling, till they
got on the right spot, then drapped right plump tn•
to my fare. Fast, by thunder. Waal, I swept
'em op agin' and made a circle of the ceding too.
Thought I had 'em fuut that time ; but I swan to
man, if they didn't pull straws out of the bed and
build a bridge over it." Seeing an iilicredible ex
pression on our visage, he clinched the story thus •
" It's so whether yon believe it or not, and corn.
of 'em sraficedacrou on skits. Bed•bags are cur,
ous critters and no mistake i 'specially Kalamazoo
kind.''
Got]) BEATING —Of all metallic subs'ances
upon which man exercises his manufacturing in
genni.y, there is probably none which admits of
being wrought to ao extraordinary a degree of fine
ness as gold. The process ofbeating gold is a very
nice es welt as curious operation. One of the most
preliminary steps to this process, is to alloy the
gold—for it is found that a minute per centag,e of
silver and copper is necessary in order to impart to
it a sufficient malleability. The geld and its alloy
are melted together, and then are moulded into
ingots, which are flattened out by heavy rollers,
into thin sheets, about four times as thick as mill
nary printing paper. These thin sheets are then
divided into pieces of about an inch squire, and
one hundred and fifty of these pieces are lute:leas.
ed with as manyvelinro leaves, four inches square,
and are then beaten with a heavy hammer until the
gold has expanded to the size of the vellum. The
pieces of gold are then quartered alter having
being interleaved with six hundred pieces of gold
beater's skin (which is a very tough iilbrane
procured from the intestmes of the Da) are ricked
one upon each other, and are again sobjPeted to a
more careful beating, with a lighter hammer, cn'il
the gold has again expanded as far as its envelope
will admit. This process of dividing and hammer
ing is repeated several times, until finally a good
leaf is produced, which is about one eighteenth•
thousand of an inch in thickness. Thus for a few
guineas, a large room might be carpeted with gold.
0:::r Of all happy household, that is the happiest
where falsehood is never thought of. Mt peace it s
broken up when once it appears that thereis a
in a house. All comfort is gone when suspicion
has once entered—where there must be a reserve
in talk, and reservation in belief.
Kr My son, would you suppeas that the'
Lord's Prayer could be ergraed in a space no lar
ger than the area of a dime r
4 Well, yea, fates if a dime is as large in ea•
erybody's eye u it is in yours, t think there would
be na difficulty in putting it on about four times'
Sensible boy that. •
•
Jot sz Vosinzasistra, implicated in the Lan.
caster pension frauds, and who lied to England far
safety, recently called ou,,our bituister u London
with the view of obtaining a passport. We need
hardly add, that the request was prorptly refused
by Mr. Buchanan.
Rwl.asrsuitsrits —Dwies are emirs: events ars
God's. This removes an iLfiaite burden L am ib•
ahouldeni of s nuseratile, infripied, dying creaiono.
Otr A coasts/ torlistdosl who ,was caught iII
the *VIM wheal ofasaw milt says ho intcais to
spply fors pension as he W a survivor of the Rs
, eihr iDe.
NitiiVisuwAi 4_41