OSE HOLLAR PER ANNUM, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOWTVISTDA.:
Ciatnrimn Wonting, Jnljj 21, 1855.
ftltdtb Dpottrj.
ONE BY ONE.
One by one the sands are flowing,
One by one the moments fall;
Some are coming, some are going—
Do not seek to grasp them all.
One by one thy duties wait thee,
Let thy whole strength go to each,
Let no future dreams elate thee,
Learn the first what these can teach.
One by one (bright gifts from heaven)
Joys are sent thee here below ;
Take them readily when given,
Ready, too, to let them go.
One by one thy griefs shall meet thee,
Do not fear an armed band ;
One will fade as others greet thee,
.Shadows passing through the land.
Do not look at life's long sorrow ;
See how small each moment's pain ;
Rod will help thee for to-morrow,
Every day begin again.
Every hour that fleets so slowly
Has its task to do or bear;
Luminous the crown, and holy.
If thou set each gem with care.
Do not linger with regretting,
(r for passion hours despond ;
Nor. the daily toil forgetting,
Look too eagerly beyond.
Hours are golden links, God's token,
Reaching heaven ; but one by oue
Take them, lest the chain be broken
Ere the pilgrimage be done.
(L : Mutational.
[For the Bradford Reporter.]
In an article published some four weeks since,
1 >poke of the importance of selecting a pleas
ant locality for our school houses, and also of
having the grounds around them decorated
with ornamental shade trees; atid in short,
overv thing about them as pleasaßt and invi
ting as any private dwelling house iu the dis
trict
1 will pursue this subject, by calling atten
tion to the structure of the houses themselves.
1 do not projjose to enter into detail upon this
subject, or to say how the benches, desks, Ac.
should be made. There are several books awl
pamphlets upon the subject of school architec
ture, in which these matters are treated at
length—some of which should be consulted by
any au<] every person who is to construct an
edifice for the accommodation of the youth of
the commonwealth. There has also been a com
mittee api>o'uited by the proper authorities to
make a full report upon this subject;—thisre
port will soon be spread before the public. So
it would be out of place for me to enter into
minute detail, even if I were disposed to do so.
I shall content myself, therefore, with sub
mitting a few general remarks. To convince
any one that our school-houses are miserably
constructed, having no regard to the comfort
or health, or physical well-being of those who
are to spend their time within them, needs no
argument. Children are at school just at the
precise time when they need the most watch
ful care to be exercised over their health, when
bad habits, as regards the laws of health, will
produce the most disastrous results. A child
at this age may, and no doubt many do, con
tract habits, or plaut in the system the seeds
of disease that will torment them as long as
they live and bring them to a premature grave,
;u-t because parents think that it is of but lit
tle or no consequence what kind of seats their
young children occupy while confined in the
school-room, or what kind of desks they have
to write ujH>n, or what means they have of j
wartuiug and ventilating the house, provided 1
always, their own houses are furnished with
tae easiest cushioned chairs and sofas, and the
rcost approved patterns of stoves and veutila
ting apparatus.
It is the duty of the citizens of everydistrict I
' provide a good comfortable school-liouse for
of their children. Not a
smoky, ffinrry building, located at the corner
'here three or four roads cross, upon a spot so
barren that no one deems it worth cultivating,
ia 'l so contracted that four-lifths of the house
ia the highway, and so bleak that even the
--met of animals warns them to shun the
Not a house with slab seats, with legs
iODg that three-fourths of the pupils are un
ie to rest their feet upon the floor while sit
- "pon them, and rough planks for desks, so
• and arranged that part of the scholars
sit so bent over when writing that they
' ? iQ danger of producing curvature of the
lue , while the other part, if they write upon
planks, will elevate oue shoulder while
( ""mr is correspondingly depressed ; thus
■ "'""ing, a K j n rde other case, a distortion of
'pinal column. Not a house so open and
ex posed to the winds that the furred
of the frozen zoue would suffer with
' al one dme, or iu one part of the room,
,' r ],,^ OSe l h e Aery regions of the South,
as much with extreme beat at
p'aj tUUeS au( * ' n ol fi er localities. Not a
£ w ' Q uowing grain, or caring meat, or
' ? oat the eyes of the scholars. No, not
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
such a building as this should be provided for
our youth in which to receive their impressions
of the arts and sciences. Temples dedicated
to the sciences, where the youth of the com
monwealth go up to offer oblations to the
muses, and slake their thirst at Pvrean springs,
should be located in quiet, retired spots. The
school-yard ought to be the most inviting place
in the whole district—the house itself a model
of architectural beauty and utility ; everything
around and within it, should be so inviting that
children and parents shall be lured to the place
by its beauty and superior accommodations. —
Spacious apartments, high walls, neat and con
venient desks, comfortable seats, good accom
modations for warming and ventilating each
room—clothes rooms well supplied with con
veniences for keeping the outer garments of '
the scholars in a good condition, should all be
provided for our peoples' colleges. Instead of
such buildings, our children arc obliged to sit
upon seats without backs, with their lower
limbs dangling, or if they have anything to
support their backs, it is quite commonly the
sharp edge of the plank that is used for the
writing desk. The floor not unfrequently is
so open, that in winter the feet of the teacher
and pupils are exposed to a current of cold air,
while the stove or fire place is far better cal
culated to smoke the inmates than to warm
them. Those nearest the fire suffer with heat,
while the teacher is endeavoring to raise the
temperature sufficiently to keep those from
freezing who sit the farthest from the fire.—
Very frequently there is no place for the hats,
bonnets, coats, shawls, cloaks, Ac., and all are
thrown together—the one coming to school
first will therefore have his at the bottom of
the pile, no matter how valuable or how much
injury may be done, llow can children who
attend school learn lessons of order and system
in this arrangement of their wardrobe?
Is it to be wondered at, that young children
who know nothing of the importance of an
education, should dislike to go to school arid
be confined in a pleasant day, for six long '
hours in such a place, and sit on benches that
will cause every bone in the body to ache ? j
Why, if parents are obliged ouce a week to sit
upon the same benches but one hour, they will
groan and complain of soreness the whole I
week, and very often will they make an excuse .
for staying from meeting that the seats are so
uncomfortable. Still these same parents deem j
it little better than robbery, to levy a tax to
make the school houses where their young chil
dren are to spend six hours—five days in the
week, more comfortable. There is not a seat
in the house that the poorest man in the dis- j
trict would not be ashamed to offer to a visi
tor. If parents would only spend three hours
one day iu each week in the school house with
their children, and be obliged as they are, to
sit on the same awkward, comfort-sacrificing,
health-destroying seats, write upon the same
rough, haggled desks, or rather apologies for
writing desks, suffer with them from cold and
heat, as the mercury alternately rises or falls,
gaze upon the same unsightly, disfigured, smok
ed, patched up walls—suffer as they do from
the inconvenience of obtaining water, and from
the want of proper out-houses, play iu the same
barren, shadeless, fenceless, muddy, contracted
yard, or dusty, noisy, filthy road, breathe with
them the impure air that is constantly inhaled
in crowded rooms, bear as they are obliged to,
the head-ache and debility caused by breathing
such an atmosphere ; —I say if parents would
do this, instead of seeing school houses situated
in the highways, and built as cheaply as pos
sible, because they are paid for by taxation,
and as uncomfortable as possible, because no
body but the children and the teachers are to
use them, and with as few conveniences as pos
sible around them, because it is not absolutely
required bv law to have them ; instead of this,
we should see them located in the most delightful
spot in the district, upon large lots, surrounded
with trees and shrubs, and out-buildings, while
the interior corresponding to the external,
would invite the youth of the district to come
and spend their joyful, happy, youthful days
withiu their walls, there to learn lessons of or
der, neatness, as well as those of science and
art. Make our school houses as comfortable
and convenient as we do our best dwelling
houses, (I do not say as expensive,) and we
shall not so frequently be obliged to drive our
young children to school. X.
July 9, 1855.
THE TATTI.ER. —There is no being 011 the
habitable globe more degraded and more con
temptible than a tattler. Vicious principles,
want of honesty, servile meanness, despicable
insidiousness, form its character. Has he wit?
In attempting to display it he makes himself
a fool. Has he friends ? By unhesitatingly
disclosing their secrets he will make them his
most bitter enemies. By telling all he knows,
he will soon discover to the world that he
knows but little. Does he envy an individual?
His tongue fruitful with falsehood, defames his
character. Doe 6 he covet the favor of any
one ? He attempts to gain it by slandering
others. His approach is feared, bis person ha
ted, bis company unsonght, and his sentiments
despised as emanating from a heart fruitfal
with guile, teeming with iniquity, loaded with
envy, hatred and revenge.
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
" RESARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
Ut istell antaits.
The Yankee Pedlar.
Old Squire who, some years age, lived
in the town of TV , in New Jersey, was
" death on pedlars," and wouldn't allow one to
come withiu gun shot of him if he could help it.
It so happened that oue Nat. Tucker, a Yan
kee pedlar of the most incorrigible kind, in dry
goods, clocks,and other" notions," chanced that
way, and having heard of the aversion of the
Squire to itinerants of this class, he looked up
on him as fair game, and determined to " sell"
some of his wares and the old man at the same
time. Accordingly the first house he drew up
at 011 enteriug the town was the house of the
Squire. It was at the close of a warm day in
July, and the old man sat complacently smok
■ ing his pipe under the porch of his house. As
N'at approached him with a clock under his arm
and a dozen of silver spoons in his hand, the
old man majestically waved him off, at the
same time exclaiming : " Clear out ! Don't
you come in here—l dou't want any o' your
tribe round me ! I know you !" " Wal, I
mus 'low, Squire," said N'at, good naturedlv,
" that you've got the advantage of me, for I
dou't know you, and I guess your neighbors
don't nuther, for they tell'd me you was a good
Christian, and never turned a hungry man away
from your door." The coolness and self-pos
session of Nut caused the Squire to pause, for
he was a whole-souled, hospitable man, and lie
began to think he might be mistaken in Nat's
true character. At length he inquired, look
ing the visitor steadily in the face, " Answer
me oue question—ain't you a pedlar ?" " Ped
lar be denied ! —110," said Nat. "Then what
are you briugin' them things in the house for ?"
queried the old man, pointing to the articles
which Nat was carrying. "Wal, the fact is,"
replied Nat, " I don't much like to leave these
silver spunes in my wagon, for somebody might
make love to'm, and as for this ere clock, I
couldn't afford to lose it, no how, for it's jist
one o' the greatest clocks out. I want a bowl
of bread and milk nation bad, and if you'll ac
commodate me I'll thank ye, and if you won't,
I'll hev to go further, and if anybody axes my
opinion of yew, in course I'll tell 'em how good
you are to strangers." This settled the mat
ter, and N'at was invited in. The Squire's wife
was out, but the old man soon placed a bowl
of pure milk and some white bread before N'at,
who laying aside the old fashioned spoon
which the old man brought him, supplied its
place with one of his own, and proceeded to
" go in" as though he had fasted for a month. ;
When he had about half finished his meal,
Nat remarked, as he paused to turn his spoon
over and eye it admiringly—" how much bet
ter milk tastes out'll new silver spune, than it
does out'll old one !" " Yes, I spose it does,"
replied the Squire, who had all along been eye
ing the remainder of the set, and wishing lie
was the possessor of them, that he might as
tonish the old lady (who by the way was given
to strong-miiidcduess, that is, wearing the
breeches) on her return. " I got them ere
spunes very cheap," remarked Nat again, as he
swallowed a large mouthful of the " lacteal,"
" and I've no doubt my Nance'll lie delighted
with 'em." " I spose you wouldn't care about
partiu' with 'etu, would you ?" asked the Squire,
hesitatingly. " Wal, no, I don't keer much
about it," answered Nat, "but, seein' it's you,
I mought, and I gesss there's some more of the
same sort left, which I kin git before I go hum.
Tell you what I'll deu, Squire—if you'll give
me them ere spunes o' yourn and seventy-five
cents to bute, jest to pay me for my troube,
they're yours." " Done !" said the Squire, and
immediately he was put into possession of a doz
en plated spoons, for which he exchanged a
dozen solid, old fashioned silver ones and " the
boot." Nat seemed to regret his bargain, and
showed no disposition to take the old sjioons
which the Squire laid in a bunch before him,
when the latter fearing he might alter his mind
and demand his property back again, left the
room for the purpose of stowing them snugly
away.
A broad grin passed over Nat's face as the
old man disappeared, and rising from his seat
he approached one of those solid, old fashioned
English clocks, specimens of which may yet
occasionally be met with, which occupied a
position in one corner of the room. Opening
the door, Nat carefully cut the cords which
sustained the weights, so that the slightest jar
would be sure to part them, and then thrust
ing his knife up underneath the face of the
clock, he clipped all the cogs but one from one
of the wheels, closed the case again, anil had
but just taken his seat when the Squire enter
ed. " Tell yon what, Squire," said Nat, as
suming a frightful expression of countenance,
" I begin to feel bad—'fraid I'm goin' to have
one o' them dratted fits which takes me down
sometimes. Yes, there it comes !" he yelled,
and immediately after he jumped froin his chair
high enough almost to touch the ceiling, and
came down upon the floor with a force which
shook the house to its foundation. " Bang !
hang !" went the weights in the old clock, and
" rick 1 rick ! rick ! click ! click ! snap ! snap!"
went the wheels, till the Squire was fairly
dumb-foundered, and knew not which to attend
to first, the old desk or Nat, who lay writhing
upon the floor. The scene did not last long,
however, for Nat very speedily recovered ; and
then the Squire alluded to the noise which the
clock had made. Nat examined it, and pro
nounced it worn out. He told the Squire he
had better either make a rat-trap of it, or sell
it to the first seeoud-hand furniture man that
came along. Then he incidentally and quite
carelessly mentioned his own clock, and com
paring it with the Squire's, pointed out the
new improvements, especially the " alarm" ar
rangement, at all of which the old man was
eousumedly tickled, and the upshot was that
the clocks changed owners as the spoons had
• lone previously, Nat receiving the old clock
worth about twenty-five dollars, for a ten-shil
ling article. Nat now thought it about time
to travel, and accordingly departed. He stowed
the old clock, together with the Squire's spoons,
carefully away in the bottom of bis wagon, out
of right, and stsrted. but had not gone fsr
when he met the Squire's wife, of whom he
had managed to get a full description, both
with regard to her temper and appearance, re
turning homeward. " Ain't your name Mrs.
B. ?" he inquired, as they met. " Yes," said
the old lady, snappishly, "but what's that your
business?" "Oh, nothing," replied Nat, "on
ly I didn't know but what you'd like to buy a
few notions—a pair of scissors, for iustance.—
I stopped into your house yonder, and the
Squire tell'd me he had broke your's since you
bin gone—but he said he wouldn't buy any
new ones for you, and you shouldu't buy any
for yourself." " Did he say that ?" said the
old lady, defiance flashing from her eye. "He
did so," replied Nat, "said you shouldn't buy
scissors or nothing else without his consent."
" It's all very well for him to talk that way
behind my back," said Mrs. 8., " but he wouldn't
do it if I was there. I'll show him whether
I'll buy anything or not 1" she continued deter
minedly, as she immediately proceeded to pur
chase numerous articles to the amount of about
three dollars, all the money she had with her,
after which she proceeded homeward boiling
over with wrath, and Nat proceeded on his
way whistling. Words would fail to give a
correct description of the scene of crimination
and recrimination which followed when the
Squire's wife reached home, and we shall not
attempt it, but shall pass on to an incident
which occurred some time after. The old folks
had become reconciled to each other, and went
by invitation to a neighboring town. While
there they found their way into a show-shop,
and almost the first thing that attracted their
attention, was their old clock. It looked as
natural as ever, and was altered in nothing
save its history—they learned for the first time,
from a label upon it, that it had once been the
property of Gen. Washington, and that it had
been bought at auetiou by a gentleman, togeth
er with the documents proving its identity, and
sold to the proprietor of the show for tn'o hun
dred dollars! Nat Tucker was the lust pedlar
that ever " sold" the Squire.
WHAT O'CLOCK IS IT? —When I was ayounar
lad, my father one day called me to him that
he might teach me how to know what o'clock
it was. He told me the use of the minute
finger, and the hour hand, and described to me
the figures ou the dial plate, until I was pretty
perfect in my part.
No sooner was I quite master of this addi
tional knowledge, than I set off scampering to
join my companions at a game of marbles ; but
my father called me back again : " Stop, Hum
phrey," said he, " I have something more to
tell you."
Back again I went, wondering what else I
had got to learn ; for I was certaiu I knew
all about the clock, quite as well as my father
did.
" Humphrey," said he, " I have taught you
to know the time of the day, I must now teach
you to find out the time of your life."
" The Bible,' says lie, " describes the years
of man to be three score and ten, or fourscore
years. Now life is very uncertain, and you
may not live a single day longer; but if we
divide the four score years of man's life into
twelve parts, like the dial of a clock, it will
allow almost seven years for every figure.
When a boy is seven years old, then it is
one o'clock of his life, and this is the case with
you ; when you arrive at fourteen years, it will
be two o'clock with you ; and when at twenty
one years it wall be three o'clock, should it
please God thus to spare your life. In this
mauner you may thus know the time of your
life, and looking at the clock may perhaps re
mind you of it. My great-grandfather, accord
ing to his calculation, died at twelve o'clock,
my grandfather at eleven, and my father at
ten. At what hour you and I may die, Hum
phrey, is only known to Him to whom all things
are known."
Never since then have I heard the inquiry,
" What o'clock is it ?" nor do I think that
I have ever looked at the face of the clock
without being reminded of the words of my
father.
WHAT lIE DIED OF.— We overheard once the
following dialogue between an Alderman and
an Irish shop-lifter :
" What's gone of your husband, women ?"
" What's gone of him, yer honor 1 Faith
and he's gone dead."
" Ah, pray what did he die of ?"
" Die of, yer liouor ? He died of a Friday."
" I don't mean what day of the week, but
what complaint 1"
" Oh, what complaint, yer honer ? Faith
and its himself that did not get time to com
plain."
" Oh, he died suddenly ?"
" Rather that way, yer honor ?"
" Did lie fall in a tit ?"
No answer.
" He fell iu a fit perhaps 1"
" A fit, yer honor ? Why not exactly that.
He fell out of a window, or through a cellar,
door—l don't know what they call it here."
" And broke his neck ?"
" No not quite that, yer worship,"
" What then ?"
" There was a bit of a string or chord, or
something like that, and it throttled poor Mike."
The editress of the Ladies' Repository
says : " Kisses, like faces of philosophers, vary.
Some are as hot as coal tiro, some sweet as
honey, some mild as milk, some tasteless as
long-drawn soda. Stolen kisses are said to
have more nutmeg and cream thau other sorts.
As to proposed kisses they arc not liked at all.
A stolen kiss is the most agreeable. We have
been kissed a few times, and as we are not ve
ry old we hope to receive mauy more." An
Exchange very impertinently inquires—" At
what hour may the lady be found in her of
fice ?''
"Sammy, Sammy, my son, don't stand
there scratching your head ; stir your stumps,
or you'll make 110 progress in life."
"Why, father, I've often beard yon eay that
I he only way to get on in tfcis world was to
I scratch-a-head."
Effects of Wind and Water on Climates.
In a short article, a few weeks since, we
described the particular influence of the "Gulf
Stream" upon the climate of Western Europe,
and presented the opinion entertained by some,
that the waters of the Amazon River were the
cause of this wonderful current. In Lieut.
Murray's new volume, " The Physicial Geogra
phy of the Sea," we find this question discussed
with rare ability, and with profound knowledge
of the subject. He compares the Gulf Stream
to a water heating apparatus for buildings.—
" The warm waters," he says, " which are con
fined in the Gulf of Mexico is such a heating
apparatus for Great Brittain, the North
Atlantic, and Western Europe." Instead of
attributing this stream to the waters of the
Amazon, he says, " the furnace is the torrid
zone, the Mexican Gulf and the Carribbean
Sea are the Chanldrons ; the Gulf Stream is
the conducting pipe, and its heat is taken up
by the genial west winds, and dispersed through
out Britain and the west of Europe." 111
another place he says, " it is the influence of
this stream upon climate that makes the
Emerald Isle, and clothes the shore of Albion
in cver-geeen robes ; while in the same latitude
011 this side, the coasts of Labradore are fast
bound in fetters of ice." In an article in the
American Journal of Science, Vol. 45, Mr.
Rcdfield says, "in June 1831, the harbor of
St. John's Newfoundland, was clothed with ice ;
yet whoever heard of the port of Liverpool,
20 degrees further north, being closed with ice,
even iu the dead of winter."
It is indeed a peculiar arrangement of Him
who rules the wiuds and the waves, that the
temperate climates of different countries in
Europe are dependent 011 a hot water sea basin,
situated near the American continent, and that
this hot water should pass by large tracks of
countries on this side of the Atlantic, leaving
bound in icy fetters, and dispense its favors to
nations on the other side of the ocean. But
so it is, and requires the wiuds as well as the
waters to distribute those genial favors to
western Europe. During the past winter this
was displayed in a remarkable manner. For
about four weeks easterly winds had prevailed
in Great Brittain and Ireland during which
period the warmth of the Gulf Stream was
prevented from being wafted to those coasts.
The result was, that the most intense cold
within the memory of man was experienced
there ; ice formed in large quantities on the
sea coast, and, as a world's wonder, the navi
gation of the rivers Thames and Mersey was
greatly obstructed, and the port of Liverpool
almost ice bound for some days. In Irelaucl
the effects of this severe cold was such, that
thousands upon thousands of small birds—
larks, thrushes, Ac., —which do not migrate,
were found dead in the fields, and on the high
ways. In Scotland, the effects of this severe
cold were more wonderful still. Hugh Miller
—that eminent geologist and keen observer—
in the Edinburgh Witness, says, " the present
intense frost—coincident at new moon with a
stream tide—has killed manv of the littoral
shell-fish around our shores, and they now lie
by thousands and tens of thousands along the
beach. On the beach below Portobelio, *and
for at least a mile ou the western side of the
town, they arc chiefly of two species, Solen
Siliijua, or the edible sprout-fish or razor-fish,
and Moctra Stultorum, or the fool's cockle,
both of them molluses which burrow in the
sands above the low water line of stream tides.
The sprout fish, when first thrown ashore, were
carried away by pail and basketfull by the
poorer people ; and yet of their shells enough
remain in the space of half a mile to load
several carts ; but the fishes themselves,
devoured by myriads of birds, chiefly gulls, have
already disappeared. It is probable that both
species will be less common on our coasts than
heretofore, for years to come ; and their whole
sale destruction by a frost a few degrees more
intense than is common in our climate, strikingly
shows how simply, by slight changes of climate,
induced by physical causes, whole races of
animals may become extinct. It exemplifies,
too, how destruction may fall upon insulated
species, while from some peculiarity of habit,
or some hardiness of constitution, their con
geners escape."
Had the genial west instead of the dry east
winds, constantly prevailed in England during
the last winter the atmosphere of that count; y
would have been moist and warm as usual, and
110 such severe frosts as that described, would
have been experienced. From these new facts,
we can form some new and more correct ideas
of the effects of the winds and waters upon
climates ; and how they effect the destiny and
welfare of nations, and living creatures, on
the land and in the sea.— Scientific American.
DESTRUCTION OF ANTS.—A correspondent of
the Philadelphia Ledger says :
We give you a sure remedy—procure a large
sponge, wash it well, press it very dry ; by so
doing it will leave the small cells open—lay it
on the shelf where they are most troublesome,
sprinkle some fiue white sugar on the sponge,
(lightly over it) two or three times a day, take
a bucket of hot water to where the sponge is,
carefully drop the sponge in the scalding wa
ter, and you will slay them by the thousands,
and soon rid the house of those troublesome in
sects. When you squeeze the sporge, you will
be astonished at the number that had gone in
the cells.
ttsF* The six degrees of crime are thus de
fined : He who steals a million is only a finan
cier. Who steals half a million is only a de
faulter. Who steals a quarter of a million is
a swindler. Who steals a hundred thousand
is a rogue. Who 6teals fifty thousand is a
knave. But he who steals a pair of boots or
a loaf of bread, is a scoundrel of the deepest
dye, and deserves to be lynched.
tST A great man commonly disappoints
those who come to visit him. They are on the
look out for his thundering and lightning, and
he speaks about common things much like other
people : nay, sometimes he may be even be
reen laughing.
VOL. XVI. —NO. 0.
THE CORSICA* WOMEN. —With the approach
of evening, the temperature underwent a sadden
change, from the driest heat to a damp cold.
A tomb by the wayside attracted my observa
tion ; a man was buried there, who Lad shot a
peasant in a love quarrel about a vounggirl to,
whom he was a suitor. Nothing interests man
kind so much as the romance of the heart.—•
A simple love tragedy makes as deep an
impression on the mass of heroic action, and is
often cherished in the memory for centuries.
The Corsicans are very demons in jealousy, and
avenge love as blood. My Companion related
to me the following example : A young man
had left the maiden, whom he was addressing,
for another. One day, as he was sitting, on
the public square, in his village, at a game of
chess, his abandoned mistress preseuted her
self before him with a torrent of imprecations,
and drawing a pistol from her bosom blew out
his brains on the spot. Another maideu once
| said to her lover " If you desert me for another,
you will repent it." Two years elapsed, after
tiis desertion of her, when he led a bride to the
altar. As he was coming out of the church
door with her, the rejected one shot him dead ;
the people only exclaimed, " Evviva, well
done 1" She was arrested, and condemned to
three months' imprisonment. Young men
rivalled each other in aspiring to her hand, but
none desired the young widow of the murdered
man.
The Corsican women, who sing the bloody
songs of vengeance, are also able to combat
wit!) gun and pistol. How often have they not,
gallantly fought alongside of the men. It is
said that the Corsicans were, in a great part
indebted for their victory over the French,
at Borgo to the heroism of the women. They
also fought in the battle of I'ontonuovo, and
everybody yet speaks of the Giulio Francesco,
of Pastoreccia, who wielded a guu by the side
of her husband during all that disastrous
conflict. .She was engaged hand to hand with
a French officer, whom she overcame and took
prisoner ; but wheu she saw the Corsicans
dispersing in flight, she gave him his liberty,
saying, at the sume time, " Remember that a
Corsican woman vanquished you, and restored
your liberty." The Corsican women are the
living female figures of Tasso and Arioste.
A KNOTTY TEXT. —There was once an itin
erant preacher in West Tennessee, who possess
ing considerable natural eloquence, had
gradually become possessed with the idea that
he was also an extraordinary biblical scholar.
Under this delusion he would very frequently,
at the close of his sermon ask any of his
congregation, who might have a " knotty
text" to unravel, to speak it and he would
explain it at once, however it might have
troubled less distinguished divines. On this
occasion, in a large audience, he was particu
larly pressing for some one to propound a text,
but no one presuming to do so, he was about
to sit down without an opportunity of showing
his learning, when a chap by the door announc
ed that he had a Bible matter of " great
concern." The preacher quite animatedly pro
fessed his willingness and ability, and the
congregation was in great excitement.
" What I want to know," said the outsider,
" is, whether Job's turkey was alien or gobler ?"
The expounder looked confused, and the con
gregation tittered, as the questioner capped tho
climax by exclaiming, " I foteh him down ou
the first question !"
From that time forward the practice of ask
ing for " difficult passages" was avoided.
THE FLTIRE. —What is more simple and
beautiful ami true than this from IKE MAR
VAL ?
" The past belongs to God ; the present on
ly is ours, and short as it is, there is more in
it than we can well imagine. He who can
measure it with his purpose is doing a man's
work ; there are few who do it,and many who
do less. A man cannot go around it in a day,
lie cannot measure it with a bound, nor gather
up its harvest in a single sheaf. It is broad
er than the vision and has no end.
SCENE IN THE CARS.— Xcrvous old Lady.—
Dear me, what makes the cars stop here'! Is
there anything the matter ?
Smut Young Man. —Yes inarm ; a chaw
of tobacco is lying right before the locomotive.
As soon as it's removed, we will be under way
again.
Scene closes, the old lay* giving ati extra tic
to her bonnet string, and an inquiring look at
a small leather satchel with a cloth handle.
A lawyer once approached a pretty
Quakeress, and said she looked so charming ho
couldn't help giving her a kiss.
" Friend," said she, " thee must not do
it."
"Oh, by Heaven, I will."
" Well, friend, as thou hast sworn, thee may
do it ; but thou must not make a practice
of it."
fiKtr CI ristians in Greenland very seldom, if
ever, absent themselves from public worship on
account of the weather. When it is so cold that
their breath freezes and forms icicles on their
faces, they yet go long distances—men, women
and children, through snow and ice, storm, &c.
to the house of prayer. Through much great
er sacrifice than the Christians of more favored
lands do the poor Greenlaudcrs obey the in
junction not to forsake the assembling of them
selves together.
A bickering pair of Quakers were late
ly heard in high controversy, the repentan
husband exclaiming, " I am determined to
have one quiet week with thee 1" " But how
wilt thou be able to get it ?" said the taunting
spouse, in " reiteration," which married ladies
so provokinglv indulge in. " I will keep thee
a week after thou art dead, wa£ the Quaker s
rejoinder. _
fray LORENZO DOW defined a death-bed re
pentance to be the burning out of the candle
of life in the service of the devil, and blow
ing the:>uus in the Lord'c face.