OK- OJILAR P£R ANNUM, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOWANDA : (ffinrcbap fJloritinp, 3nnttarn 1, 18S7. Selected THE LIGHT AT HOME. The lifiht at home ! how Bright it beams When evening shadows 'round us fall; And from the lattice far it gleams, To love, and re t, and comfort call. When wearied with the toils of day, And strife for glory, gold < r lame. How sweet to seek the qniet way, Where loving lips will lisp our name Around the light at home. Wheu through the dark and stormy night, The wayward wanderer homeward hies, How cheering is that twinkling light, Which through the forest gloom he spies ; It is the light at home ; he feels That loving hearts will greet Lira there, And softly.through his bosom steals The joy and love that banish care Around the light at home. The light at home ! wbcne'r at last It greets the seaman through the storm, He feels no more the chilling blast That beats upon his manly form. Long \ears upoa the sea have fled, .Since Mary gave her parting kiss. Hut the sad tears which she tlieu shed Will n :>w be paid with raptnroas bliss, Around the light at home. The light at home ! bow ."-till aud sweet It peeps from yonder cottage door— The weary laborer to greet— When the rough toils of day arc o'er. Bad is the sou! that does not know The blessings that its beams impart. The cheerful hopes and joys that flw, And lighten up the heaviest heart Around the light at home. Miscellaneous. BLYIXii OUT A PEDLAR. FROM rOi:TF.R , 3 " SITRIT OF THE TIMES." Everybody on tlie we stern water knows Char ity 1> ; at lcfiit his acquaintances think they tlo. Charley is a little fast ; travels the river eight mouths in the year, aud has sometimes IH I JI known to engage in a quiet game of brag-, ordraw-poker, "just for the amusement of liis fellow passengers, nothing 1 else.'' To tho-e who know Charley, it is unnecessary to add. t : t lie very generally succeeds in " umusing" But to our story. One sweltering August day, (.'hurley was traveling on one of the dusty thoroughfares known county roads, in tlie btate of Hoosier. Choked with dust, half melted with the heat, jaded with a hard-trot ting horse, that would insist upon waltzing around every black stump at the road-side,aud with not a grocery upon the whole line of the road, our traveler was of course in a most be nevolent humor. Somebody bad to be victimized, or Charley would not be able to sleep that night. Tlie on ly question was, who it should be, and that was soon answered. A short turn of the road brought him sud denly upon a Jew pedlar, whose pack pf jewel ry was temptingly displayed at the road side, h' 1 who was chaffering with a young HoosUr for the sale of a breast-pin, and assuring his cMotner "'poll his onner," that the article in question was the very counterpart of the pin worn by Queen Victoria at her coronation. Charley was dressed la Hoosier , and a sb.irper eye than the Jew's might have readily taken liiiu for what lie seemed to be, an unso p.blicutcd deuizen of the very ruralest (vide (Wester, nest edition) of the rural districts. Lining up his horse, he cast an admiring tbnee at the glittering treasures of tlie ped- Jar. " Why. oil feller, you must lie right from Gl.foniy," said Charley. ' T didn't think Uitre was that much real gold in all Hoo sier." " Dere novv-.ii young man, do you hear dat ? i'trsh a sin utleman ash knowsh golt, Lear vot be saysh." This W! is addressed to the Hoosier, who had >t expr"ssed some vague doubt as to the pu utj oi the metal. Charity got off his horse, hitched him to a j "wo-eonicr, and sitting down by the ont ' r '3'l pack, seemed lost in some abstruse men 's ft calculations. ihe Hoosier proved rather a slow customer. | ,! ' truth was, he had not a cent of money, sent or prospective, and the Jew hud began l hs|,ect as Hindi, so lie turned his attention i Us new game. }ot can I sells you to-day, my goot frent, I 1 pur of ear rings vor your sweet-'ai t, or a nice • n.ont ring vor Yr finger ?" Diamond ! why t hat's what they cut glass p *'n, am't it ?" said Charley. f ihe J,w entered iuto a lengthened history ) b diamond and its uses, embracing some • ! b cot yet generally known to the scientific *or!d J | And is a!i these things pure gold ?" asked fe; -U.lirlev. i •' a " ( ' e vrr y besht—uo jewelers 1 ' • but right from Californy." | , might you ask a feller for this ?" 8 , VTas n l'b) of magnificent proportions, an I pdntcd glass about three iuches by I ' n a flimsy riin of washed metal, and r or (be Indian market something near I ? Itnts1 tnts - I my front, scein' its yon, I'll sell it Zay vive dollars, datsh two dollars K Is •! ' ln so '( vou 10 de governor's vife for r '-ut vcew." I "Auck it on his shirt bosom, but when B '^|? Ke rearing it to chnrch next Sunday, old Jew" opened his eyes slightly, and soirf thing about its being " more par • '"t -i '■ !\ let \*yr " Article after article was priced by Charley, aud expatiated upon by the Jew. " Well, old feller," said Charley at length, " them's all very well for retail prices ; but how much will you knock off for wholesale ?" " A at you meansh, my frent, by wholesale ?" " I want to buy you out and go into the bu siness myself." Tlie Jew looked at him for a full minute be fore he answered. He was taking his measure, and he thought he had it. Taking Charley confidentially by the arm, and leading him out of hearing of the Hoosier, lie said to him— " Veil, now, my goot frent, I will tell you jusht how it isb. I have been iu dish bishuess jusht three yearsh, and I have made all so much raonish as I vant. I only vant to shell out my shtoek and quit de bishuess, and live upou my farm in Ohio, de resht of my life.— My goot frent, I vill sell my shcwelry to you so sheap as you cannot buy it in New-York. Yyou shall have it vor jusht vot it cosht me in de old country. I shall sharge you nossiug vor ze carriage, and nossing for ze duties." TV ell, that's fair enough, at any rate," said Charley, " but how am I to know what thev did cost ?" " Oh, my goot frent, you vill take my vort vor dat, I knowsh," said the Jew with an air of half-iujured innocence. It was now Charley's turn to take the Jew's measure ; and after a look, which the latter sustained with a placid smile of virtuous con fidence, he said— " Well, old boss, you liev got an uncommon honest face, that's a fact. Give us your hand; I could lake your word for a load of corn, with out mensuriu' it, any day ; you'll liev to do the calculatin', for I ain't got no lerniu'." The Jew took another long uneasy look at his customer, but the stolid simplicity with which the latter met his gaze, was too much for his penetration, and lie sat down beside the pack to make an inventory of its contents. " Just the cost in the old country, remember old feller." " Yesh—yesli, jusht de cosht ; nossing vor ze duties or carriage." The Jew drew forth a greasy memorandum book, and opening at a blank page, spread it upon his knee preparatory to taking an " ac count of st uck," as the merchants say. The first tiling taken up for appraisement was a 11., shy watch chain, which the Jew ventured to value at ten dollars. " Cheap as dirt," said Charley ; " couldn't be made for twice the money in this country." The Jew winced ; he had evidently lost five dollars by not saving fifteen, and he determin ed to make it up on the next article, which proved be a breast pin of even more imposing proportions than the one which had first cap tivated Charley's fancy, and the jew boldly put it down at fifteen dollars. " Come, come, old boss, that's pilin' the agony a little too high." " Bon my onner, my frent, it cosht me fifdeeu dollarsh, in Barisli." ' Too much—too much—say tcu dollars, and put it down." " My goot frent, you vill ruin tne —say twelve dollarsh—come now, 'low me little bro flt." The winning srn'le with which this was said, conquered, and the pin was put down at twelve dollars. Two long mortal hours, did the Jew per spire over his task. The sun seemed to have been up especially for tlie occasion, and never shone half as intensely before, while the wind brought the dust from all points of the compass at once. At last, the inventory was completed, and footed up some ine hundred and odd dollars. The Jew rolled the pack up, and for the hun dredth time wiped the mingled perspiration and dust from his brow. " Well, what about the leather contraption that you carry 'em in—you'll throw that iu I s'pose, won't you ?" " Veil, veil, I s'posh I musht do dat," said the Jew with a pleasant smile. " How much did you say it all comes to ?" " Nine hundred and vorty doo dollarsh and vivty centsh." " You must throw off the two dollars and fifty cents, and call it even nine hundred and forty." " Veil, veil, vo vont shtand upon o'rifles—it shall be ash you say, my frent." " All right, then, old filler ; haie you got a pen and ink about you ?" " Vot vor you vant pen and ink, frent ?" " I want to give you my note for the money.' " Your note ? Vol vor I shall vant your note ? I vant your mouish, not your note ; 1 don't know you." " Neither do I know you," said Charley, " so there's no advantage 011 either side.. Besides, that's the way I always trade. I was willing to take your word for the cost of tlie things) and it's darned strange if you cau't take my note for the money." Tlie Jew fairly danced with rage. " Well, old feller." said Charley, during a temporary lull in the storm, " are you going to stand to your bargain ?" " No—no—no,"screamed the infuriated Jew, "give me my mcnish, and you shall have ze goodsh." " Young man," said Charley, turning to the Hoosier, " can you tell me where I can find a justice of the peace in this neighborhood ?" " Daddy" happened to be a justice of the peace, and the young man gave very explicit directions how to find his house, about two miles further on ; and mounting his horse, Charley rode off, vowing that if there was uny law in the land, lie would see whether a man could make a fair bargain arid then back out from it. The young Hoosier is prepared to make his affidavit, that the oaths and curses in which the Jew sought to relieve his overcharged feel ings for the next hour, actually killed two young birch saplings that stood near. " Pa, is Pennsylvania the father of all other States ?" " Certainly not, my child ; bat why did you abk that question " Be ra tr e f c.c that the new "-paper" call it Pa PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. " REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." Manufacture of Whiskey in Ohio. Cincinnati, Ohio, lias now become the great est whiskey market in the world, and the Ohio valley the greatest whiskey producing region on the face of the earth, and therefore it may be worth while to devote an article to this subject. But few people, comparatively, have taken the trouble to make themselves acquain ted with the extent of the business in the Uni ted States, or of the nodus operandi of con verting corn into whiskey. This is probably to be attributed to the fatt that a prejudice exists against the business. Although the visi tor at " Porkopolis," as some call Cincinnati, may be ignorant of the existence of huge dis tilleries around the city, the huge columns of black sinoke that roll up night and day, and in some cases every day and night in the week, the acres of hog pens and the contaminated at mosphere soon make hiui acquainted with this fact. Notwithstanding the fact that little is known outside of those immediately interested iu the business, of the various improvements, connnec ted with the distillation of liquor, no branch of busiuess has drawn more heavily upon the in ventive genius of the age than this, and it has been as favorably affected by modern improve ments as any other. The latter have vastly increased the capacities of distilleries, and en larged the margin for profits, by increasing the relative v.tld o.' grain, and improving the qual ity of the article produced. Distilleries may therefore be said to have attaiued as near "a j o.ut of perfection as it seems possible to bring them, inventive genius having apparently ex hausted itself in this line. liiis certainly would be the impression re ceived upon visiting one of the extensive dis tilleries in the vicinity of Cincinnati. Steam is made to perform nearly all the labor. Few men are employed, and they do little else than look at the machinery as it performs the work. Tlie distillery that we propose to notice par ticularly is situated convenient to the Miami canal. A railroad connects the distillery with this canal, whence the supplies of corn are ob tained. "i he latter is transferred from canal boats into large boxes set upon cars, and conveyed to a huge bin where stocks are kept. This bin is also connected by railroad with the distillery, aud the corn on beingconveyed from thedY rnier to tlie laftc-r is thrown into'the hop per of a large corn sheller which separates ihe grains from the cob with great rapidity. The corn being shelled, is carried by elevators to the second story of the building and emptied into the hoppers of mills, by which it is ground, and the meal deposited in "tlie first story. The cobs are taken by machinery from the "sheller and thrown in the vicinity of tlie boilers,where they are used for fuel. ihe meal, as it is ground, is carried bv ele vators into the upper part of the building, and thence it is conveyed to the back part of the establishment and deposited in large tanks on tlvi firt floor. Ilere the distillers make what they call mash. 'lhe "cooking" is performed entirely by steam. From these tanks the mash is drawn ufi into other tanks of equal dimen sions, situated 011 either side, where it goes through the cooling process, and receives the yeast. In the latter tanks the mash remains two or three days, until it becomes thoroughly worked by the yeast. Here it frequently spoils in conse pience of bad veust or unfavorable weather, but when no accident of this kind happens, it is drawn off and run into still. Tlie latter is about thirty feet high and five or six feet in diameter. The mash is boiled in tlie lower part of this still, aud the steam escapes through a pipe connecting the upper end of the still with the worm. The latter is set in a large cistern filled with cold water, and here the steam is condensed, - rid from this worm' the whiskey is drawn in tlie lower story, and I thence it is run into a cistern in the " whiskey," I house," where it is barrelled and made ready for market. What remains in the still after : extracting the whiskey is called " still slop." | l'liis is drawn off into tanks which stand out j of doors, and it is upon this that distillery hogs j are fed. Ihis is, in brief, the process of man- i ufacturing whiskey. It is a simple and rapid i one. It requires 011 nri average about four i days to convert the corn into whiskey, and a ' d.stilter's cn| ital is therefore turned over once every week—corn and whiskey being both cash articles The quantity of com consumed in this distillery is about one thousand bushels ' per day, from which about four thousand gal- j lons of whiskey is produced. This gives for j this single establishment a consumption of 320,000 bush'ds of corn per annum, and a pro duction of 1,210,000 gallons of whiskey. There are other distilleries in this vicinity, the rapacities of which are severally two or threw times greater than the one we have de scribed. The quantity sold in Cincinnati year ly is l ine million gallons. This is not more than onc-lialf the aggregate production of Ohio and Indiana alone. Presuming that the pro duction is eighteen million gallons, and we find that the consumption of corn to be four I and a half million bushels, to produce which requires a million and a quarter acres of good land. It is probable the production of whis key in the Ohio valley is fifty million gallons per annum, involving a consumption of twelve and a half million bushels of corn, the average value of which is five million dollars. j®©** The Jews had no surnames, rior bud tlie early Greeks and Romans. Latterly the Romans used three names ; the firs, correspon ding to our Christian name, the second the class or rank name, and the third the family name. Modern surnames began to be used about the tenth century, wheu nobles look tiie name of their estates ; middle class sons of their fathers, as Johnson, Thompson, Ac., and others of trades, as Smith, Cooper, Tailor, Ac. Fancy names also were given to foundlings,''and nickuames became surnames. fiSf* An artist of oar acqnaintance drew a horse and cart so naturally the other day, that when he put on the traces, tbey commenced drawing bim. When last seen, the artist was I p-iUing ooe y. nd th<* quadruped f h° other DODGING A DTN.—Some can scent a dun at any distance, and can dodge him effectively.— It is a knack acquired by long experience. If the dun, however, by his experience, becomes expert, the dunned stauds a slim chance of es cape. We heard a story the other dap of old Dr. G., of Portsmouth, which is to the point, as regards amateur dunning ; for there is a wide difference between the amateur atid the profes sional. Dr. G. was a man of great integrity and worth, and his business habits were on the square, exacting every thing that was his own and paying every man his due. He held a note against a gentleman of Hampton for some con siderable amount, and wherever he met liirn the Doctor was ready, note in hand, for the payment of an instalment. It became at last an agonizing dread with the debtor about meet ing tlie Doctor, particularly ut tlie time when troubled with a disease known in the financial parlance as " shorts." Bat whenever lie met him the Doctor's dun would be antiiipated by his debtor's movement for lii.s pocket-book,and frequent payments were made without seeing the note at all. He knew that the Doctor was honest aud that it would be all right, and several payments were thus blindly made. A great dearth of funds made hirn more shv of meeting the Doctor, and as lie passed thro' the town his eyes wandered in all directions to cotch a glimpse of his dread and avoid him if possible. He succeeded for awhile, and out generaled the old man several times : but fate does not always favor tlie brave, and tlie Doctor from a distant position saw his victim tie his horse to a post and enter a store. He made all the haste lie could, and entered the store just as his debtor dodged behind a rice cask. " Didn't I see Mr come in here ?" ask ed the Doctor. " He did come iu here, sir," said tiie shop keeper, " but lie has gone somewhere now." Tiie Doctor said lie was not in a hurry, and could wait us well As not ; he saw his horse at I the door, and thought would bo back before ! long. The man remained hid, and the old j Doctor waited a long time. At Inst he went i out. Shortly after Mr. himself went | out, and was just stepping upon his wagon, wheu the Doctor darted at him from a door- j way. " Well, Mr. ."said lie, "you needn't dodge rue any more. That note has been paid np these six.months, and I have been trying to see you that I might pay yon back twenty dollars that you over-paid me." A CROCODILE AND SERPENT FIGHT—A wri ter in Merry's Museum thus describes a fight which he witnessed between a boa constrictor and a crocodile in Java : "It was one morn ing that I stood beside a small iake, fed by one of the rills from the mountains. Tlie wa ters were clear as crystal, and everything could lie seen to the very bottom. Stretching its limbs close over this poad, was a gigantic teak tree, and in its thick, shining, evergreen leaves lay a huge boa, in an easy coil, taking his morning nap. Above him was a powerful ape, of the baboon species, a leering race of scamps, always bent on mischief. Now the ape, from his position, saw a crocodile in the water, ris ing to the top, exactly beneath tlie coil of the serpent. Quick as thought, he jumped plump upon the snake, which fell with a splash into the jaws of the crocodile. The ape saved him self by clinging to the limb of a tree, but a battle royal commenced in the water. The serpent, grasped in tiie middle by the cro codiie, made tlie water boil by iiis furious con tortions. W hiding his folds round and round the body of his antagonist, he disabled his two hinder legs, and by his contractions made the scales and bones of the monster crack. The water was speedily tinged with the blood of both combatants, yet neither was disposed to yield. They rolled over and over ; neither be ing able to gain a decided advantage. All this time, the cause of the mischief was in a state of the highest ecstacy. He leaped np and down the branches of the tree, enrao several times close to the scene of the fight, shook the limbs of the tree, uttered a yell, and again frisked about. At the end of ten minutes n silence began to come over the scene. The folds of the serpent began to be relaxed, and though they wr-re trembling along the back, tlie head hung lifeless in the water. Tiie cro codiie was also still, and thpug]) only the spines of ihe back were visible, it was evident that lie too Was dead. The monkey now perched himself on the lower Innbs of the tree, close to the dead bodies, and amused himself for ten minutes in making all sorts of faces at them. This seemed to be adding insult to injury. One of my companions was standing at a short dis tance, and taking a stone from tiie edge of the lake, hurled it at the ape. He was totally un prepared, and as it struck him 011 the head, lie was instantly toppled over, and fell upon the crocodile. A few bounds, however, brought him ashore, and taking to tlie tree, he speedi ly disappeared among tiie thick branches." IftSr An Irish officer, not very conversant with law terms, was lately tried for an alleged assault. As tlie jury were coming to be sworn, the judge, addressing tlie major, told him that if there- were were any among tlieiu to whom he had any objection, that was the time to challenge them. " I thank your lordship,"said the gallant prisoner, " bui with your lordship's permission, I'll defer that, ceremony till after my trial, and if they don't acquit me, by the piper of Leinster, I'il challenge every mother's sou of them, and have 'em out too." IPS?* " On the torn!) of Pureeli, the musician, in Westminster Abbey, it is set forth thai •' Pnrcell is gone to that blessed place, where only his harmony can be excelled." The widc-.v of a celebrated pyrotecuiclan war. so pleased with this epitaph, that she deter mined to adapt it for her husband, and wrote accordingly, that " he was gone that bUi'id place, where co!y hi? fi*e-v*>rkf rouM bo ex veiled." PERSONAL APPEARANCE or JOHN HANCOCK. —One who saw John Hancock in June, 1752, relates that he had the appearance of edvane ed age. He had been repeatedly and severe ly afflicted with gout, probably owing in part to his custom of drinking punch—a common practice iu high circles in those UJYS. As re collected at tins time, Hancock was nearly six feet in height, and of thin person, stooping a little, and apparently enfeebled by disease.— His manners were very gracious, of the old style—a dignified complaisance. His face had been very handsome. Dress was adapted quite as inueh to the ornamental as useful. Gentle men wore wigs when abroad, and commonly caps when at Lome ; at this time, about noon, Hancock was dressed in a red velvet cap,with in which was one of fine linen. The latter was turned up over the lower edge of the velvet one two or three inches. He wore a blue damask gowu lined with silk, a white embroi dered waistcoat, black satin small clothes, with silk stockings and red morocco slippers. It was a general practice in genteel families to have a tankard of punch made in the morn ing, and placed in a cooler when the season re quired it. At this visit Hancock took from the cooler, standing 011 the hearth, a fuil tank ard, and drauk 6rst himself, and then offered it to those present. His eqaipage was splen did, and such as is not customary at this day. His apparel was sumptuously embroidered with gold, silver, lace, and other decorations fash ionable among men of fortune at that period ; and he rode, especially ou public occasions, with six beautiful buy horses, attended by ser vants in livery. He wore u scarlet coat, with ruffles ou the sleeves, which soou became the prevailing Fashion. Sir UPRIGHT—" Sit upright! sit upright, my son !" said a lady to her son, George, who had formed a wretched habit of bending when ever he sat down to read. His mother had told him that he could not breathe right un-' less lie sat upright. But it was no U3e, bend 1 over iie would, iu spite of aii h : .3 mother could i say. " Sit upright, master George !" cried his i teacher, as George bent over his copy book at school. "If you don't sit upright, like master Charles, you will ruin your health and possibly ; die of consumption." This startled George. So after school he said to his teacher : Please s.r explain to me how bending over when I sit can cause me to have the consump tion ?" i " That I will, George." replied his teacher. ! " There is an element in the air called oxygen, j which is necessary to make your blood circu late, and to help it purify itself by throwing off what is culled curbon. When vou stoop vou i cannot take in a sufficient quantity of air to ' accomplish these purposes ; hence the blood j remains bad, aud the air cells in vour iimgs in-' flame. Tlie cough comes on. Next the lungs ulcer ate, and then you die. Give tlie lungs room to inspire plenty of air, and you will not be in jured by study. Do you understand the mat ter, now, George ?" " I think I do, sir, nr.d I will try to sit uu right hereufter," said George. gity " 1 Some years ago,' writes a Southern correspondent, ' when a sermon was considered short that continued less than two hours, and ' meeting' often held till the small hours in t! e morning, three ministers of different denomina tions held a meeting together. It was custo mary for every minister, after preaching, to j ' call' for members. The first took for his text j the words of Peter, 'I go a fishing: He j preached about two hours ; then called for j members, but received none, and sat down.— j The second remarked, that as lie followed his J brother, he would take tlie words following for his text: ' I also go with thee. 1 He likewise preached a long discourse—calied for members, ! fas it is ' called') and sat down. The third, i who was in favor of short sermons, arose, and j remarked that he would follow the example oi j his brother ; and he chose for his text, ' And \ they toiled oil night, and caught nothing !' He i rather ' had 'cm 1' " When railroads were a new institution, it was a frequent amusement to observe the consternation the fiery monster caused as lie ploughed his way through the world, over the hills aud/ar away. They are quite as great u novelty in some parts of the country as they were hereabouts twenty-five years ago In Georgia, a thort time since, a boy from the woods was at the depot when the train was on the track, and as ho was gazing in stupid wonder at the fixins, and wandering in the cars, the whistle shrieked its unearthly sound, and in a moment more the whole tiling was driving ou at the rate of "two forty." "Oli, lord} !" screamed the boy, "stop it, stop it! I ain't a gwine !" and bursting open : the door, he stood on the platform between ! the cars. Just then the train was crossing a deep and cavernous looking gorge on trestle work, and seeing the trees and fields far he low him, the frightened houby fell on the floor and fainted away. Presently he came to, and looking up at the conductor, who stood by him, he cried with horror, "Say, stranger, tell rue, 011 lordy ! has the thing lit 1" B©* First class in Oriental philosophy will stand up. " Tibbets, what is life ?" " Life co isis.ts of money, a horse, and a fashionable wife." " Good ! Next : What is death ?" "A. paymaster who settles everybody's debts, and gives them tombstones as receipts iD full of ail demands." " What is poverty ?" " The reward of merit Genins generally receives from a discriminating public." " What is religion ?" " Doing unto others just as you please, with out allowing them a return of the compliment." " What is fame ?" " A six line pnff in a news paper while living, aud your fortune to your enemies when dead.". There axe ooly three wsye of getiiog cut ftf a errs pe-~-write out, berk on* Irut rbe beet wy to keep oat VOL. XVII. NO. 30. HELENA. —George W. Kimbeli, Esq., the America:: Consul at St. Helena, commu nicates some interesting 1 facts about the Island of St. He'eua. Instead of being a "loue bar ren is.f,' he represents it as one of the most beautiful, in the romantic wilderness of its -cenery, with green valleys and wooded knolls, and says its 7,C00 inhabitants breathe the purest air and enjoy the finest climate in the world. At Jamestown, the only city of the Island, is a safe anchorage, and the arrivals of vessels average about three a day. The an chorage is secure at ail seasons, the accessible nature oi the harbor needing no pilot; the ever constant trade-wind blowing a lair breeze for the homeward bound, hospital free to sea men of all nations, a regulating time ball, the abundant supply of the finest water In' the world, flowing from more than two Lundred springs, and the dispatch that all ships receive, seldom being detained more than twenty-four hours, will ever as now, make it a favorite re sort for ships from the eastern world. Men tion is made of the tomb of Napoleon, and of Longwood House, where the Emperor died Both places have changed. He srvs : Longwood House is in the last* stages of rapid decay, and is now U3ed a3 a granary, while the sleeping room where the conqueror lay is now a stable. The room in which bo d.ed is filled with grain and agricultural im plements, while the flowers and pretty garden that once encircled the house, have ail passed aw.iy. The new house erected by the Eng lish Government for his residence, still remains in perfect repair, and occupied by the Lessee of the five hundred acres of Longwood farm. The Tomb, ensconced in a iovely vidiey about a mile and a half from Longwood. from which the body was removed in lb4o to France, is a single vault walled in with stone, and encircled by an irou railing, over which droops the sacred willow. A roof of canvass protects the vault from rain, into which the visitor descends by steps. Just at hand is a spring of delicious water from which Napoleon drew bis supply daily, carried by Chinese servants to bis housu —and here beneath the willow was his favo rite retreat, and the spot of his choice for bunal Thousands of visitors every year still make a pilgrimage to these historic 'grounds, though empty of their gresttc-ss and former beauty. Seen*, E or THE MISSISSIPPI. —Lift A bucket of water from the Misaisvppi at New Orleans and s;k yourself a question, " From whenoj came it ?" and the answer may be. From the sandy deserts of New Mexico, from the pine h'lis of Carolina, from the cotton fields of Georgia, from the British possessions north of 49th degree of north latitude separated by a thin ridge of ice-covered rocks from streams that flow into the Arctic Ocean, or from bowcr3 of orange and magnolia that perfume the cane fields of Louisiana, from the frozen lakes that gem the bosom ot Minnesota and Wisconsin, or from the sunny fountains that gush up from the flowery plains at Alabama and Tennessee, from the lake bound peninsula of Michigan, from the hill 3ides of waving grain in Pennsyl vania and New-York, from the tobacco fields of Virginia and Maryland. It may be part of those mighty volumes that roll their never tiring waves through lown and M:sscur : , through Illinois, Indian and Ohio, through Kentucky and Arkansas, Mississippi and Texas. It is a part of the ten thousand little rills that come hymning their wav from that mountain range wherein arise the' Colu mbia and Col- ratio of the West, or of those from whence the Delaware and Susquehanna hasten away to meet the rising of the sun. In tho spurs of the Allegheny it has saluted the springs ot the Rosnoke and the Saluda, and far beyond the Black Hills it has locked arms with the mighty Suskashawn as he hurried on his cheer loss journey to Hudson's Bay. The springs of Connewango listen to the roar of Niagara,and the fountains of the Platte overlook the cra ters of the extinct volcanoes of Utah. It has fertilized a country greater than tho empire of Alexander, and has carried a richer commerou than all the rivers tributatry to imperial Rome. —Louisville Journal. r©" A few days since,' writes we!como ' J I). E.,' of St. Lords, ' in company with one of the best of his race, and a resident of Chan ton comity, of this state, he told the following anecdote concerning a locrl preacher in his section, who, being a veritable personage, I wtfl suppress lbs name : At a hoeial meeting of his fellow church-members, among other things, each was relating his causes for joy and sorrow, when Rev Mr. said : 4 ln my family of children, I have much cause of jov, and also much to distress me. There's my son .a good, reverent, dutiful boy ; but there's my son Bill, he's an audacious scamp. He left h's poor old gray-herded father manv a day ago. and it's been a long t : me since I'vo heard on him ; and when I last hoard on him, he *.v s 'way up to the Galeners, a raftin'saw-logs, playing ".seven up," end boss-racing; but, thank tho Lord, lie's ma kin* hv the trip I Ain't he sister ?' * Yes, brother, he is, and no mistake I'" CwJ* An extensive dairyman at Glasgow made a rule of giving his cows a sheaf of corn each on New ?.r\ morning, and on one oc casion, the evening before, he gave orders to his cowkeeper, who was an Irishman, to bo sure to give each cow the sheaf of corn the first thing io the morning. When the master went into the yard next morning, the first thing he saw was a number of sheaves placed round the pump ; he asked Pat what he had been doing that for " Why, faith, ycr hon or, I have given him no more than his allow ance. for be gives more rniik than all the cowa pht together." *_ AgsT" A gentleman observing a girl, who was left-banded, placing the knives and I forks oa the dinner-'ahhs ia the sam® awkward position, remarked to her that she wa laying them left-banded. "Ob, iudade !" said she, ; "so I nave J Ba riearsd, sir. to help m* i turn the table round
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers