ONE DOLLAR PER ANNUM, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOWAN I) A : Siitnrifim fHorninn, -febrnarn 3, 1833, Jwltfftb |)orfnr. [From the London Athenaeum. THE PROUDEST LADY. BV T. WKSTWOOD. Tin: QUEEN is proud upon her throne, Ai.d proud arc tier maids so tine ; But the proudest lady that ever was known, is a little lady of mine. And <>h ! she flouts me. she flouts me, And spurns and scorn- and scouts me, Though 1 drop on my knee and sue for grace, And beg and beseech, with the saddest face, Still ever the same she doubts me. She is seven, by the calender— A lily's almost its tall— Hut <>h ! this little lady's br far The proudest lady of all. It's her sport and pleasure to flout me. To spurn and scorn and scout me : Hut ah ! I've a notion its naught hut play— And that, say what she will and l'eigu what she may, Slit can't well do without me ! When she riiles on her nag away, l(v park and road and river, la a little hut. so jaunty and gay. Oh ! then she's prouder than ever ! And oh! what faces, what faces ! What petulant, pert grimaces! Why. the very ponv prances and winks, And tosses his head, and plainly thinks lie may ape her airs and graces ! But at limes, like a pleasant tune, \ -iv. etcr mood o'ertakes her : Oli! ttmn she's sunny as skies of June. And all her pride forsakes her. Oh! she dances round me so fairly.' 1 ih ! her laugh rings out so rarely! Mishe coaxes and nestles and purrs and pric'j in my puzzled face with her two great eyes, And says, •' 1 lore you dearly!" Oh ! tlm Queen is proud on her throne, And proud are her maids so fine ; But the proudc-t lady that ever was known I- this little lady of mine. Oood lack ! she flouts me. she flouts me, And spurns and scorns and scouts me : But all' I've a notion it's nought but play— And that, say what she will and feign what she may. She can't well do without me! Stittftir ©ale. mims Not far from the siraggling village of Neshan Foot in C/ydesdale, stood, many years ago, asmali collage inhabiied by a widow anil her two daugh ters. Their poverty arid misfortnr.es secured for them ascertain degreejof interest among their neigh bors; but the peculiarities ot the widow prevented much intercourse between the family and the in habitants of the district. hi her youth " daft Jennie," aS she was called in the village, had been the belle of Nethan Foot; but by coquetry and love of admiration, she had excited great jealousy among the girls of the coun try side; ami her success ir: securing the handsom est lad in the place as her husband, had not tended to increase her popularity. Those days, however, hail long passed away A terrible calamity had be fallen her; arid one single night had deprived her of home and husband. A sudden flood, or" speat," ol die river had inundated their cot'age; and in their endeavors to save ihe wreck of their furniture from destruction, her husband had iost his life, and her eldest daughter received such injuries as to leave her a helpless cripple for the rest of her Jays. Jennie, never very siong-minded. broke down completely under these accumulated mi-lortunes ; and though her bodily health was restored af er the fever which followed, she rose up from her sick be.! an idiot, or rather what is called in Scotland •• dull, that peculiar s'ate of mind between idiocy anil mania. The charity of a neighboring proprietor gave her a eotiage rent tree, the Nethan Foot people gave what help they could in furnishing it, but ihey were themselves too poor 10 do more, so that the whole support of her helpless mother and sifter devoir ed on Annie Livingstone, the younger daughter, a handsome girl of fifteen years of age. It is only by living among Ihe peasantry of Scot land that we learn fully to appreciate the warm heart and heroic self-sacrifices which are often con cealed under their calm exterior and apparent cold ness o| manner: and no one unacquainted with her ! previous history eould'have guessed that Annie Liv- ' tngstone. the blythest haymaker, the best reaper, : the hardest worker in the field or house, the most | smiling, cheerful, and best conducted girl in the j valley oi Nethan, had some sorrows which fall to 1 Ihe lot 0! a few in the world. Day after day she 1 had to leave her bed ridden sister alone and unten j eed to spek a scanty means ol subsistence for the \ fimi yjn out of-doors labor: while more than half j of trer hours of res; arul refreshment weie occupied j in tunning down to the cottage, to Fee that Marian I w.yiited nothing, that her mother had remember- ; ed torn ike ihe porridge, or having done so, had ; ihven Marian her share instead of devouring it ail I t erse!f But a jvant of caie of her helpless daugh- ! •er was not the only tiling Annie had to dread hom j " daft Jennie." The peculiar temper and disposi- j 'ion of her girlhood subsisted still, and no longer ae P' in check by intellect, displayed themselves in a thou sand vagaries, which rendered her the laugh stock of the village, and caused bitter moriifi- C3!lon to hr daughter. Once or twice Annie Liv" c' er endeavors, she not only brought upon her- I teproaches, curses, even blows, bul by excit l-'S 'he revengeful cunning ot madness, occasioned ■"* perpetration of malicious tricks, which greatly a dded to her previous annoyances. b was wonderful that in such circumstances the v ung girl contrived to keep her temper and good h"1 s; but she was well-principled and strong "•'niled, and as she sometimes said when the | " ; jh'jors pitied her for what she had to bear— -n, woman ! but the back is made for the bor- | !?n i an 'J He that has seen fit to give me heavy lias given me'also r stout heart and braid -ers to bear them. AnJ better than all, He has given me my ain dear Marion to be a help and comfort to me in all my difficulties." " A help lassie? A hindrance you mean." '■ No, woman, a help Guile kin my spirit would fail me out and but if I had no Mari'n to k*ep trie up—to read to me out ol the Lord's book—for you ken lamno a great scolard mysel'—and to learn me bonnie psalms and hymns to eing when I am dowie (disheartened.") The picture displayed by these simple words was a touching one ; but much more touching was the reality of Anfiie's devotion to Marian. When hei day's labor was over, she hurried back to her I poverty-stricken home; and having swept out and dusted the kitchen, and set on the kettle for tea— an indulgence which she labored hard to afford the invalid—she would creep up the ladder-like stairs to the loft, which was her sister's sleeping cham ber, and, wrapping her in an old shawl, would car ry her down stairs, place her in her own peculiar chair, anil wait upon her with die tenderness of a sister and the watchfulness of a slave. When tea was over, the open Bible was laid on the table ; a splinter of the clear cannel coal of the : country, which the very poor of the district frcquent ; ly used insteaJ of can Jles, was set on the upper | bar of the grate ; and by its flickering light the two j sisters would spend the evening together, the young. • er employed in darning and patching their weli worn garments, the elder in reading to herjrom the holy volume. Meanwhile " daft Jeanie" would I wander in anJ out, backward and forward, some times amusing herself woh playing spiteful tricks jon Annie—to whom as years rolled by, she seem ed to take a strange antipathy—someiimes sitting cowered up on the hearth, maundering and moan ing, and in spite of their efforts to the contrary, producing the most depressing effect upon her i daugriter s spirits. At such times it was useless to try to induce her to go to bed ; her naural perver i sity seemed to find pleasure in refusing to do so, tiil Annie, worn out by her hard day's woik, was ready to fall asleep in her chair, and was yet una . ble to go to bed till she had seen her mother safely i in hers. In spite o! these disadvantages, however, Annie grew up a handsome, cheerful girl, respected by all who knew her, and dearly loved by those who were intimate with her. But she had very few in timates. She had 110 leisure to was'e in idle gossip, she could not spend an evening hour rambling by the sparkling Nethan water, or by the banks of ihe stately Clyde; no one ever found her ioiering in 1 the hay-field alter the sun was down; no one ever met her at a kirn (harvest home) or other rural gaye y; and on Saturday at e'en' she would hurry home to Marian, rather than join the group of merry lads and fassies gathered round the village well. Marian was her one engrossing thought— to be with her, her grea est happiness ; and rio hol : ulay pleasures could in her eyes equal the delight she felt when. 011 a summer Sabbath afternoon, she carried her helpless charge 111 her arms to the top 1 ot Dykiebolt's field, and let her look at the trees, the sky. and the tushing water, and listen to the song of the lark as it fluttered in the blue ether : above them, or to the mavis singing in the old ap j pie tree thai hung its branches so temptingly over I the oichard wall. But a time came when what had hithetfo been ! Annie's greatest pleasure, was put in competition with one tar greater; when the heart that had lav ished so much affection on her crippled sister, and had stooJ steady in filial duty to a selfish and luna tic mother, was subject to a trying ordeal. One eventful year, when an early spring and in- ! ; tensely hot summer had caused the cornfields of j Blinkbonnie to ripen with such unheard of rapidity I that the Irish reapers had not yet made their ap ! pearance in their neighborhood, it was announced j j throughout the vale of Nethan, that 1! every man, ; woman and child in the district did not aid in set ting the harvest, halt the crop would be lost. Now, as David Caldwell, the tenant of Blinkbonnie farm was a great favorite in the neighborhood, everybo dy who could handle the fickle, responded to his appeal, and made quite a 1 ploy' (fete) of.going to reap at Blinkbonnie. Marian Livingston-* had i been so great a sufferer (hat season, that Annie had given up farm-labor tor ' sewing work,' as shefail ed embroidery, that she might be more at home with her sister, and secure a larger income; but sedentary employments v ere so repugnant to her natural active habits, that she rejoiced at the neces sity which forced her to join the reapers, for David Caldwell himself had asked her to come, and he and his family had been too steadily kind to Maii an lor her to refuse such a lequesi. even had she wished it. But she did not wish it; and she was among the first of the reapers who appeared at die farm. Biinkbonnie wa, as its name suggest, a very preiiy place. Srnated on the slope ola penile hill that faced the south, it was the earliest (aim in dial part ol Clydesdale : and as ihe winding river bath ed the foot ol ihe hill, and the woods ol Craigne than clothed the opposite bank, it was aiso a favor i e resort ot the young people of the neighborhood, who found a drink of May Caldwell's buUeimdk', or a bile ol her pease-meal soones, a very pleasant conclusion to their evening strolls. In short Blink bonnie was as popular' a place as the Caldwell's wete popular people, and everybody did their ut most to get the corn in quickly. As we have said, Annie Livingstone was a good hand at the ' heuk,' or sickle it was natural thai the best " bernlster," or binder ol sheaves, should be selected for the part of the field where she was ■ and much rural mirth and wit was thrown in the endeavors of the two very different people to secure this honorable title, and its attendant position. They were Altck Cald wptl, the farmer's brother, a journeyman eaipenter of Neihan loot, and Jamie Ross, the blacksmith, who had been friendly rivals all their lives, and were so in the present instance ; but Annie was by general vote chosen umpire between them, and sire gave judgment in A lick's favor. In those days the Clydesdale lasses wore tlioohl Scottish peasant dieas of the short gown and pent PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. "REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." coal, one which we fear is almost exploded, but which was as becoming us it was convenient. In it many a girl who would have looked common place in modern costume, appeared piquant, if not pretty; and to Annie Livinas'one it was peculiarly suited. Her broad but eloping shoulder, and her ronnded waist, showed togre.it advantage in the close fitting tight gown, whose clear pink color, contrasting with the deep of the liiisey-woolsev pet ticoat gave a look of freshness and cleanliness to her whole appearance, which was enhanced by the spodess parity ot her neckerchief, and the snowy : whiteness of her throat. In short, with her well knit figure, her rosy cheeks, her smoothly snood | ed hair, her dark eyes, and her " wee bit month . sir® sweet anu bonnie," Annie was altogether a very comely lassie ; and when she blushed and, looked down, as Alick thanked her for her judg ment given in his favor, he thought her ro very pretty, I hat he was strongly tempted to catch her in his arms and give her a hearty kiss—a mode , of expressing admiration, at which many girls in their primitive district might have been more flat tered than annoyed ; but there was something in Annie Livingstone's whole manner and conduct which made it impossible to take eucli a liberty ; with her. ; Nevertheless; when the reapers returned home that night. Alick refused his brother's invitation to remain at Blinkbonnie; and he not only contrived to keep near Annie all the way home, hut was waiting for Iter next morning at the end of Dykie bull s field to escort her to the farm, and make himself agieeable to her on the way ihidier, by j promising to show her where she could find some I wild flower roots, which Marian had long wished ; lo have transplanted to their li'de garden. " It is a pity, Annie that you do not turn this kail yard ol yours to betler account," Alick said that evening, when, on tii9 flea of carrying the roots for her, he accompanied he. down to the cot lage; "it would'grow pota'oes and turnips as well as kail, and that would make a pleasant change for Marian." Annie blushed. " May be so,- she sai J, ingeniously," bul I have nae time for garden-work. I wish whiles that 1 i had, for Marian is terrible fond of flowers " The hint, so unintentionally given, was eeizej wi:h avidity, and from thai time forward many of Alick's leisure hours were devoted to Annie's gar- i den, anJ no: a Sunday passed over without a visit j to " daft Jeane's collage to bring a nosegay lor Marian. Such considerations affected Annie very much ; but Alick s weekly visit, after a lime, gave i her almost as much pain as pleasure. It was de- ■ lighlfdl, certainly, to Fee how happy they made; Marian; and to lierselt, personally, they were in i every way gratifying, s.ie did so l.ku to hear her ; sister and Alick talk together, to listen to their re- j marks on the books they had read, am! the thoughts i they had thought ; and to fee! that, unlearned as ! she was, she could appreciate the intellectual gifts ' which both posses-e.l, and which they had the pow er giving forth so well; but she sum found "hat to her mother Alick's presence was very distasteful. So long as he was there, she kept tolerably quiet— a stranger s presence generally has a certain con trol over persons afflicted as s e was ; bul the rrro ment he quitted die house, she idemnified herseii for her enforced good behavior by increased res'- lessness and ill-temper. She abused Alick in no measured terms, ill treated Annie worse than ever, and made Marian suffer in consequence. And yet it was impossible to put an end loAl. j ick s vi-iis. It Annie told him not to come to tiie cottage, lie said with a srniie, " that he would not. if she forbade him, come ben the house; but he could not leave the garden uncared for, nor could he do without seeing her and Maii'n on Sabbaths in Dokiebutt s field. Man n would miss him iihe did not come to see her, and bring her nosegay, and carry her down to the waterside, or to the bon- i nie fir wood on the Lnriaik road ; it was so dull for I her poor body to spend ilka Sabbath in Dykiebulds field. Besides Mar'n liked him to come, whalev- j er Annie did " Poor Annie's heart beat fast. 0:i Aiick !'' she began, hut suddenly recollect ing herself, she stopped abruptly, and no persua sion could induce her to finish tier sentence. She felt intui'iveiy that it was not only to talk to Marian that Alick came sooftPn She was consci ous that it was not Marion s -yes fie sought when he spoke those beautiful words which caused Iter heart to glow, and .which seemed to shed on earth, and tree, and sky, a glory they had never known till now. But she fell, also, that this ought not to be, that in her peculiar situation she was not enti tled to encourage such attentions and yet, alas • she could not be so unwomanly as to tell him plain ly that she understood whv he lavished so much kindness and time on her sister. No, she had noth ing for it but to let things tuke their course, and strive to guard her own heart ag linst turn *sSha no longer, therefore, inteirlicted his v isi s. but she took evety opportunity that oflered to leave him alone with Marian, arid steal out, meanwhile, to the most sequestered spots near at hand, where she might commune with her own heart, and seek Irorn heaven the strength necessary losaonfice her own hopes of happiness to the claims ol duty, and the comlort of her helpless chaiges. Thus time stole on, till one of those lonely strolls she chanced to meet some of h-*r acquaintances walking along the road in the Cratgtieihati direc tion. They greeted heartily, and asked whether she would come with them to iha preaching. "The preaching V she said. '• What preach ing ?" " Eh, Inssie, did you no' hear that Mr. Cameron ol Carnbns, is to preach the night in he Campfield ? He is a real grand preacher. You had best come." Now this invitation was very tempting to Annie, for she could 00l afford In go ntore than once a lor night to church at Lanark saeiV mile- distant, and she hkeJ nothing be.n-r than a • grand preach er while enough of the old iwagtuinve Carne o.iun teuiparament remained in her to mako an open air service more agieeable in her eyes than in a church. " Vou see Annie." her friends contributed, " the day's preaching is a kind of trial, to see if die folk care lor good doctrine ; and if ihey come, we hear tell that Mr. Cameron will preach there like other babbath. Sae, come awa, like a good lassie.— Marian can weei spare you for time." " Maybe she Cdn spare tne the day," Annie an swered, " for Alick is down by yonder the now, sac she will no' be weary in, for want ol me. Just bide a minute til! ! spe " And away she Hew to make the proposal to Marian. She gave her unqualified approbation to Annie's going; but a shadow passed over Alick's face, even while he volunteered a promise to re main with Marian during the sister's absence, and added, wi'h a laugh, which somehow had little mirth in it, that he had just been telling Maiian that he thought he must set on Ihe kettle himself the night if he was to get his tea with them, for Annie seemed 10 have forgotten them altogether. ' Oh,no, 1i! sort the kettle," Annie said nervously as she lilted it from the crook, and proceeded to fill it with water at the well; but Alick look it from her saying at the same tirne'that " it would set Iter better it she gaed to her ain room, and made her* self braw for the preaching." The touch of bitterness in his tone as he said this, brought die tears to Annie's eyes. He liule guessed how willingly she would have given up the preaching, anything to spend an hour his com pany, it it hul been right-, but she fell that it was not so for enlier of their sakes, so she brushed away her tears, smoothed her glossy hair, put a silk handkerchief he had'giveu her round herjneck ; and having seen that Maiian had everything she requir ed, ahil that her mother was quietly asleep in her chair, she hurried to j >in her friends. It was a lovely September evening. The leaves were bright with (he tints of early autumn ; the apple trees tor which CiydesJaie is famous, laden with golden f.uit, hung temptingly over theorcbard walls; and die high-road, passing through a gently nndula nig country abouded 111 charming peep 3 of me ever-flowing C yJe. whose varied banks, some times rich irr wood, sometimes hemmed in by rnessive rocks, and someiimes skii'ed by eenily sloping and extensive meadows, comprise some of the faire-i river scenery in Scotland. Annie. however, walked iorward with a heavy heart. \\ hat was it to her that the sky was bright, and the sun brillian. ? dia liie sott, fleecy clouds pded them selves up lorms round the horrizon, and that all nature seemed happy and joyous? There was an oppression on her spirits she could not j shake of!—a feeling dial some cnaes of tier fate' was at ham! whim -La had no power to avert, but whose consequet.ee would take the life Irom her heatt, the glory hom her sun and sky. Alick had spoken to her as he had never done before, as if he thought that others might have more influence over her than Le had as if ehe'could care for any one tiling or person to fix her thoughts on the place to which site was going, and for what purpose, Alick's voice rang in her ear—Alick's sad disap pointmenl look flaunted her memory; and she reached her ilesiinaitori long before she regained her composure. J he Campfield was a small holme washed l>y the Nethan Water, which, making a sudden whirl at ihal point, surroundedJt on three sides,'while the fourth was boun-'ed by a wood hill, which separa'- ed it from the ruined Castle ot Craignethan. It was a tradition in the coun'ry ;i!ia! (lie* spot had been a camp ol die Covenanters, in the days ot Claverhouse, and that a band/if Royalists had been defeated there before ihe"ereat, battle ol Bothwell Brigg. Die people ot|die district still point out die padi by which- the Covenanters gained the hill that commanded Cruigeihan Castle: and allege that, for a time at least, die Royalists were in their hands. At ad events, lire place, is so connected in their minds with rheplays (if the Covenant, that it is a favorite site for a field preaching; and nothing can be more picturesque than the scene it presercs tin der such an aspec. The steep hill-side, the rriur muring water.J'he sofr twymv turf, the crowd of listeners, in every attitude of earnest attention, hang ing on the eloq lent words of diejpreacher, take one back to trie old times when, in caves and dells and bleak inoorsiiles, the stern men of ihe Solemn L°ague and Covenant listener! to truth at the risk of their own live*, and those of their nearest and dearest. Jusi snc.L a'preaeher as might have led these warlike ami determined men as Mr. Cameron, ol C.nnbns. lie whs old in' years, with silver hair and wrinkled brow; bul he had a clear, penetrating eve. and tin look of power, mingled with gen leness, tiiat uncompromising fove of right and truth, which strike conviction to every heart, and ron-e men's souls to do or die. At arjy other lime Annie Livingston would have listened to the preacher with a kindling eye and glowing cheek, but to-day she sat there, pale and cold, struggling to qiHI the tempter thai whispered to her to forsake her natural duties for the love oi one who was becoming dearer to hpr than all th-* world beside. She tixn I her eyes on the minister —she endeavoie lin Inflow his word, but the prayer fell unheeded on her ear; and when the full sneli of Hie p-t.iim, preceding the -srmun. rose into the air. her voice, generally the clearest, and sweetest of Git? congregation, quivered and was silent. But the rnu-ie was not wholly wi hout influence on tier toiiured heart; ami when ihey resumed iheir places to givo ear to the sermon, her spirits felt more at tuned to ihe duties of the hour. I he text 21 ven out was ihts :— ;i No man havin n pill iiia hand to the plough, a*ld looking back, is fn tor the kingdom of God." Anino started as the words were uttered, and as she. listened to the doctrines which Mr Cameron deduced from them, she felt as if he runs' have known her inmost thoughts, sc forcibly di i fie warn his iiearers of the sin of for s aking die true and nartowr path o! duty, to follow die devices of their own heaits, so power- Itillydid he pres%np->r (hem the necessity of sacri ficing a!i that was most T he eolor came am! wen! In Annie's cheek arid j her eye- fnled under his steady glance ; but she ; answered faintly— i "I did me in i>. Alick; and think you would ; only do what is rignt and pruJent il you married her." '• A id yon Marian," he Mid. 'timing to the poor i ciipple. <• What do you think ' That a man is ihe be ter ola wile," die *a d [ tJHietly, " and dia' as yon will never get Annie, j vou might j is' as well take Ellen." Aiick looked distressed, and muttered " Pnr . 1 consider marriage in a higher and holi er hght ; and il \ ir.ie refuses me, 1 must e'en rest as i am. Son w von'have my thought on the tria :er. and yon must never again instill me by be lieving li e nonsense ol ihe Neman Foot chatters." An I thus things wen! on, month afer month, vear after year ; and 'he only comfort poor Annie had in her life ofiri ti was the convic'ion that she was doing her duly. As age advanced on da;t Jennie, -he became more unmanageable; and ad 'he exertions her daugh'erc niid make were scarce ly sufficient to keep her eccentricities within bounds, and to support h-r and Mauan. Uu. An nie contrived ii somehow : an.l not even Alick guessed lite biiter s'nigifes, the personal sacrifices, he weinc and the starvation she enduied to keep her poor mother from ihe parisli. and to provide (or .Marian he 1 lie luxuries which in her pesitioa were actnal necessities. 1 lie end !iuw\evcr came ut le ig h.and when it was least expected " Lai. Jeauie" took a fever and died, and Annie's toils were cnmparaiively hght thenceforward ; but in one particular it seem ed as il dm release hud come too late, for Alick, weary of waiting *■> many years as Jacob did lor L'ah, h.;d quitted Nethu i Foot a few months pre viously > .me sj .I he h.iil gone 16 EJinburg, soma said u> Luitdon . but at .*ll even's, h3 had di*a; • peaied entirely from ilia neighborhood ; and in those days of heavy postage so little intercon sa was kep. up Ivtwe.-.-i distant friends, '.hat even his brother at B inkboaaie only wrote to him at lot g nilerva.f. I'hus it happened that neatly a whole yeprel-psed ere Alick learned "that dult Jeanie was gone at las', and a' the folk thought poor Annie had a good riddance of her; but nevertheless she looked mtiir nl and pale than she had ever done before.'' The news cause f A'ick to hurry back to Ne'haa Foot, and one beautiful spring morning he reached tbe home of his childhood. He had walked horn Lanatk; and, somewhat orercome with heal and