O J E DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOW-^ISTDA.:
Stjarsiian filorning, JCoocmber 5. 1857.
Stletftb IJuttrs.
[From the Knickerbocker.]
THE UNSEEN BATTLE-FIELD.
I There is an unseen battle-field,
In every human breast,
Where two opposing forces meet,
And where they seldom rest,
That field is veiled from mortal sight,
Tis only seen by one
Who knows alone, where victory lies,
When each days fight is done.
One army clusters strong and fierce.
Their chief a demon form ;
His brow is like the thunder cloud,
His voice the bursting storm.
His captains, Pride, and Lust, and Hate,
Whose troops watch night and day,
Swift to detect the weakest point,
And thirsting for the fray.
Contending with thus mighty force
la bat a little band ;
Yet there with an unquailing front,
Those warriors stand!
There leader is of God-like form,
Of countenance serene ;
And glowing on his naked breast
A simple crest is seen.
His captains, Faith, and Hope, and Lor*.
Point to that wondrous sign ;
And caring on it. all receive
Strength from a source divine.
They feel it speaks a glorious truth,
A truth as great as sure.
That to be victors they must learn
To love, confide, endure.
That faith sublime, in wildest strife,
Imparts a holy calm ;
F r every deadly blow a shield.
For every wound a balm.
And when they win the battle-field,
Past toil is quite forgot ;
The plain where carnage once had reigned,
Becomes a hallowed spot.
A spot where flowers of joy and peace.
Spring from the fertile sod.
And breathe the perfume of their praise
On every breeze to God.
Stlttfti Calf.
|
ITHE COUNTERFEIT DOLLAR.
I A rich dressed lady, followed by a man ser
vant. stopped at a market stall one Saturday,
Bud bought a pair of chickens of the old huck
ster woman. The lady offered a five dollar
I: b.I! which the huckster could uot change. A
I r an making some purchases at the same time,
| offered to oblige the huckster by taking the
I bill, and giving five gold dollars for it. He
I pre them to her, and she returned the just
jj change to the lady.
The latter had not walked a square before
she discovered that one of the gold coins was
I r-nnterfeit. She took it back to the market
| iroman who insisted npou her taking a gold
| hilar instead, saying that she would see the
: ■ baa who had eiven the Lad one, the next
; tin? be passed, and make him take it back.
I willing not to lose the dollar, the lady
1 Wnsented. A few days alter wards she passed
I I ? stall again, and stopped to ask if the wo
| r.an bad yet seen the man who had given her
I ibe counterfeit dollar.
S" Laws, no, honey," was the reply. "I
isn't going to let you keep it, being as you
re my best customer, but I just passed it the
ery next time I had to make chauge, and no
ns. Never you mind, honey, the womau as
gave it to served me the very same trick last
I was glad to get a chance to pay 1 er
I am very sorry it is going any further,"
t i the lady. " I came here on purpose to
tit and destroy it. I thought I could bet
r afford to lose it than many auother. Now
shall always be sorry I did uot do my duty
■tien I had it in my power."
I " Laws, then, I wish I'd kept it, for Peg
■L. who I gin it to, will likely pass it off on
poor body ; and it does seem fair that
big bugs should lose what must be lost,
■whow. I will just see if Peg has got it yet.
■ you're willing to wait a bit."
1 No—Peg had not got it! She would have
Iorned to keep it so long. But choosing her ■
'tim with some discretion, among those she j
••'d big-bugs, she gave it to a middle-aged
m, whose fingers were so cold that he was
particular In examining his change than
lia - Arriving at home, he found the doll
■ had, but conld nor remember at what stal-
B~ iiß d received it; so in great indignation at the
■honesty of those hucksters, be had made up
mind to pocket his loss,
went to church regularly—or, rather, to
Methodist meeting—but of all things, he hated j
I P poor-plate, which was passed around every
■"day for contributions. Yet be generally ;
■' something into it, because folks' eyes were
H. n . him. The next Sunday when it came
t'id. he maliciously put tlierein the eoun-
dollar. "There,' 1 thought he, "you
B"' welcome to that V
uot blush, or look, or feel ashamed,
would uever know the cheat. How-
when the preacher read in the Bible-les
iß'" Ananias and Saphira, he had to
himself with the remembrance that the
miracles is past.
■ f W afternoon a lady called upon him, and
■°®plxiu6d that a counterfeit dollar, which
B ?iven to such a huckster, had been
B 3 rred to another who had given it to
B* 1 had come to redeem that dollar, as
B r COtl -cience troubled her about it, and the
BPposed it was still in his possession, of
BTbe avaricious man always took great care
WL"' re P utot D. He protested that the mar-
BT „°® 4n he mwtekeo, as be conld show
H '
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
were all good. She must have given it some
other man.
The lady was so sore that ahe hesitated,
and was inclined to urge the matter, when
the unlucky wife said to her husband :
" George, you put a gold dollar on the poor
plate. That must be it."
Shame and and anger suffused his face ;
but he said plausibly, " Oh, perhaps so ! I
did not think of that! Now what a pity ! I
should have observed more closely. But I will
make it up another time."
41 1 feared it would be so. It has gone to
the poor, who can least bear its loss," said the
lady. " But it is my fault, and I must trace
it out. Who is your pastor, sir ?"
Being iuformed, the persevering lady called
upon him.
To go back a little. When the deacon, or
whatever he may be called, saw the little gold
coin deposited amidst the the copper and
small silver on the plate, he was passing
around the meeting, he was rejoiced, and as he
was also treasurer, he took the amount home
and placed it in the fund. The ministers to
that church are supported by voluntarily con
tributions, and the time being come for paving
the allowance, to their pastor, it was counted
out, and to make change, some money taken
from the poor fund, the counterfeit dollar be
ing a part of it.
The good man received his pittance with
joy, which was shared by his needy wife and
their uice children. There was much plunniug
and plotting as to the spending of the smull
! sum. All extravagant hopes from it were
j brought into due compass, and every dollar
appropriated in the most absolutely necessary
manner. The father retired to write a sermon
upon the bounty of God, and the wife who was
banker and disburser, went to put away the
money. Then she detected the base coin.—
With indignant flushing cheeks she took it to
qer husbaud.
"Oh!" he said, "It is hard, hard! But
the Lord will teach us how to do without it.
He feeds the young ravens."
41 Do you think it would be wrong to pass
it, husband ? I mean at some of those rich
dry goods stores. I can't do very without my
gown. We are so poor! Others would not
miss it. It came to us as a good one. We
need not be too particular."
44 Oh wife," was the reply, " this is a tempta
tion of Satan. Passing a counterfeit dollar is
just the same as telling a lie, and setting oth
ers to tell lies too. Throw it into the fire,
that it may deceive and disappoint no one
else, and forget we ever had it. That is all
we can do.".
The wife, discontented and sad, returned
to her work of mending the children's clothes,
i Her eldest, daughter, a girl of twelve was iron
! ing in the kitcheu. She came in with a woeful
i face, saying:
" Mother, dear, look here ! Futher's best
; linen neck cloth was hanging on the chair, and
: baby pulled it off and switched the corner of
it into the fire. It was half burned up before
1 I could pull it out. What will father do?"
The child was reproved too sharply, for not
taking more heed, and went away crying to
her work.
It is too bad," said the mother, " that we
must be the ones to suffer always. But father
shall not be the loser by the carelessness of
his people. I won't put up with it ! That
bad dollar came from the congregation, and
it shall go back to them !"
So she put on her bonnet, and went to the
gentleman's furnishing store, kept by Mr. 8.,
a memlier of their church. She bought her
husband a new neck cloth, which she hoped
he would never know from the old one.
That very day the lady called and asked to
see the Rev. Mr . She told the story
of the counterfeit dollar, and asked if he had
seen anything of it, saying that she had come
to redeem it. The minister said that it had
luckily fallen into his own hands, and joyfully
did he hasten to his wife's room.
'• God verily numbers the hairs of our heads,"
he said. "He will not suffer one of his little
sparrows to fall to the ground. Give me the
bad dollar, for a lady has come to give us a
good one iu its place."
Then came the agony of confession of the
hitherto honest wife. She will weep and writhe
to her dying day at the remembrance of that
look of surprise and wounded trust, which her
beloved husband's face wore as he heard it.—
She went at once to the lady and told her all.
It was a brave deed, for she was a minister's
wife, with a whole congregation watching to
detect a slip from uprightness. The lady, she
feared, would re|>ort her delinquency, but she
had fallen into merciful hands, and her fault
was kept secret. They went together to the
furnishing store.
The store keeper examined his till and desk.
There was no such dollar to be found, and uo
one could tell to whom it had beeu given.—
One of the shop girls had probably passed it
without seeing that it was not gold. The la
dy left a dollar to replace it, should any one
bring it back, and went home disappointed.—
Her husband was a magistrate, and she knew
that'he was so strict in bringing offenders to
justice, that she never mentioned to him this
counterfeit, for fear of gettiug the market-wo
tuan into trouble for parsing it, knowing it to
be such.
That night her husband came home from
his office, looking exceedingly weary and sad.
His wife pressed to know the reason.
" Oh," said he, " the duties of my office are
cometiroes so paiuful! I have just bad to
send such a nice lady-like woman to the lock
up for the night because it was too late to ex
amine her at once. She seemed in great dis
tress about something ; but she can't speak a
word of English, so I couldn't make it out.—
I think, though, that her husband is sick."
" Why not let ber go. and take her up again
in the morning."
" Well, she is accused of a serious charge—
counterfeiting—aud her distress may be all
sham, only a plan to get her husband off. I
don't want him warned. I bare set a watch
about the house, but can do no more until
rooming. There are great number?of counter-
I fei f gold dollars in circulation, and 'this wo
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
raaD, he neighbors say, has tried to pass three
within a week. I have been very anxious to
discover the rogues ; and I don't believe this
woman had had anything to do with it.—
However, I had to shut her up, the neighbors
are so indignant. To-morrow it will be look
ed into, and the woaian set free, I have no
doubt."
44 Perhaps her poor sick husband may die of
anxiety and alarm, meanwhile."
" Well, put on yonr bonnet, wife. You can
speak German. I should feel easier, I confess
if I knew more about this matter, and will go
to her residence."
The wife hastily made ready. They had to
go to a dirty narrow court, peopled by the
lowest Irish. When they arrived aud inquired
for the man, they were shown into a destitute
room, with out fire or light, at the door of
which they had knocked, but received uo an
swer. When they approached the bed, a man
spoke as if just awaking, aud said iu Ger
inad :
44 Olga, have yoa come ? lam so cold, and
I have been dyiug for a drink of water. I
conld not reach my medicine, Olga, and it is
long past the hour. But, poor wife, you have
gone through much, no doubt—aud have they
paid you ?"
'I he magistrate sent the officious neighbors
for fire and light, while his wife gradually broke
the news to the husband, for he had not heard
of his wife's arrest. The neighbors were
afraid to tell it to a man so ill. He was ly
ing, wasted by a low fever, almost to a skele
ton. He seemed horror-strickeu at the idea of
of his wife's disgrace, and turning away from
the lady, he wept bitterly. From ejaculations,
and fragmentary sentences, she gathered that
he belonged to a noble family iu some little
German principality, and had been obliged, on
account of sympathy with Hungarv, to fly
with his wife. They bad expended all their
means before they had been able to get any
imploynieut, and siuce the failure of her hus
baud's health, the poor wife struggled to sup
port them both with her needle. He turned
to his visiters again to explain about the
counterfeits. He said the neighborhood and
market people gave his wife bad money re
peatedly, thiuking shrewdly that she, being a
foreigner, would not be likely to know the
true coin well. \\ heu she ignorantly tried to
buy things with this bad money, she was harsh
ly treated. Therefore, when s'he had another
gold dollar given to her, he supposed she had
shown it to her neighbors to ask if it were
good, and had not been able to make herself
understood by them. He had not seen her
since she left him to take home some shirts to
Mr. B.'s furnishing store.
The magistrate perceived that these people
were innocent, and weut at once to obtain the
woman's release, while his wife staved and
busied herself in procuring comforts for the
destitute invalid, without consulting him at all
about it, for she saw that his proud spirit re
belled agaiust receiving as charity even the
means, of prolonging lite.
It was not long before her husband return
ed, and never was there a sadder or tender
meeting than between the sick man and his
liberated wife
Although medical attendance was procured,
and every comfort placed befare him, the suff
erer died that night, with his last words the
lady who had thus enabled him to have the
comfort of his wife's presence in the last, dark
hour.
The lady herself, however, felt keenly self
condemned. She told her husband the whole
story, shedding tears of pain.
" What a dreadful chain of sin and sorrow
I have occasioned," she said.
" I do not think you were to blame," her
husband replied, "for you only left the dollar
to be given to the true passer."
" Oh, no ! I was almost sure that the mar
ket would not be particular. I thought she
would get rid of it the first chance she had.—
Yet, I said, "that is no concern of mine." It
was indifference to right which has had the
force of intentional wickedness. See what a
series of sins I occasioned. The market wo
man gratified her revenge first, and did a dis
houest act besides ; then that hateful hypocrite
put it into the poor-fund in church—cheating
in the temple. The moment his wife spoke of
his contribution, I saw detected guilt in his
face, but he told more falsehoods—he pretend
lie did it by mistake, and that he would make
it up ! Theu the poor minister's wife, over
tempted by poverty to be dishonest ! Oh,
what agony it will always be to her, to remem
ber it, and to me to know that I occasioned
it! Aud the starving, innocent German lady,
who came uear being deprived of her husband's
last kiss ; and who endured hours of misery,
knowing that he was suffering in her absence 1
Oh, husband—
" One i!l deed,
Sows countless seed,
I shall never forget this lesson. Pray God
that every one of my sins of omission nmv not
be followed by such a train of mischief !"
To be reminded of her fault, the lady had
the dollar set in a plain bracelet, and wore it
constantly upon htr arm. Every day the base
coin left a green mark from corrosion, and, as
she washed it off, she thought how blessed it
would be if the cousequences of siu could be as
easily effaced. But that, she knew by expe
reience, could not be. In three days since she
had suffered to slip through her fingers, had
brought sin or unhappiness to herself, the two
hucksters, the hyyocrite, the minister's wife,
and the persecuted foreigner. They—none of
them—won hi ever, during their whole lives,
escape from the consequences of her culpable
neglect, in not stopping the circulation of that
counterfeit dollar.
" Times are improving and men are
getting on their legs again," said a gentleman
to his friend. " How so ?" " Why, those
who used to ride an their carriages now
walk."
)&* A wise man will speak well of his
neighbor, lore his wife, take a home newspa
per en<3 pur for it in fj<*roe
44 REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANT QUARTER."
The Animate of Thibet and India.
The following is the substance of a paper
on the aboTO subject, read before the British
Association for the advancement of Science,
by Herr R. Schlagintweit :
The existauce of the Yak, or Tibetan ox,
in a wild state has been repeatedly doubted,
but we fiequently found wild yaks. The chief
localities where we met with them were both
sides of the range which scperates the Indus
from the Sutlej, near the origin of the Indus,
and near the envirous of Gartok ; but the
greatest number of them was at the north
of the high Karakerum range, as well as to
the south of the Kueuluen, Turkistan. In
Western Thibet, particularly in Ladak, there
are no more yaks in a wild state at present,
though I have no doubt that they have for
merly existed there. They seem to have been
extirpated here, the population being, though
very thin, a little more numerous than in Thib
et in geueral. As Ladak has been occasionally
more visited by travellers than any other part
of Thibet, the want of the yak here has proba
bly given rise to the idea that they are no
more to be found in a wild state at all.
Amongst all quadruped animals the yak is
found at the greatest height; it stands best
the cold of the Snowy Mountains, and is least
affected by the rarefied air. But at the same
time the rauge of temperature in which a yak
can live is very limited ; the real yak can
scarcely exist in Summer in heights of 8000
feet. We often found large herds of wild yaks
—from thirty to forty—in heights of 18*000
to 18,900 Euglish feet ; and one occasion we
traced them even as high 19,300 feet—a re
markable elevation, as it is very considerably
above the limits of vegetation, and even more
than 1000 feet above the snow line. The hy
brid between the yak and the Indian cow is
called Chooboo, and it is very remarkable that
the Chooboos are fertile.
The Chooboos, which are most useful do
mestic animals to the inhabitants of the Him
alayas, are brought down to lower places,
where yaks do not exist, and where, conse
quently, they cannot mix either with yaks or
with the Indian cow. We had occasion to
see and examine the offspring of Chooboos as
far as to the seventh generation, aud in all
these cases we found the later generations nei
ther much altered nor deteriorated ; and we
were moreover informed that there was never
found any limit as to the number of genera
tions. The Kiang, or wild horse, has beer,
often confounded with the Korkhar, or wild
ass, though they differ considerably in appear
ance, and inhabit countries with very dissimi
lar climates. The Kiang exists in the high
cold regions and mountains of Thibet—the ass
in the heated sandy plains of Sindh and Be
loocbistan. The Kiang is found in great num
bers nearly in the same localities as the yak ;
he does not, however, go up the mountains so
high as the yak, but the rauge of his distribu
tion is greater than that of the yak.
The greatest elevation where we found Ki
angs was 18,600 English feet, while we traced
yuks as high up as 19,300 feet. The regions
where the yak and the kiang are found, are,
in a zoological point of view, altogether one
of the most remarkable and interesting of our
globe. The highest absolute elevation coin
cides here, it is true, with the greatest height
of the snow line, or rather it causes the snow iiue
to be higher. But those high plateaus and
regions, though free from snow and ice in sum
mer, remain a desert throughout the year.—
The amount of vegetation on them is less than
it is in the Desert between Suez and Cario, in
Egypt. Nevertheless, these high, sterile re
gious are inhabited by numerous herds of large
quadrupeds ; and besides those already men
tioned numerous species of wild sheep, ante
lopes, and a few canine animals, chiefly wolves
as well as hares, are abundant. The herbiv
orous animals find here their food only by
travelling daily over vast tracts of land, as
there are only a few fertile spots, the greater
part being completely barren.
The great scarcity of vegetation, particu
larly the entire absence of mosses and lichens,
has a very different effect, though an indirect
one. on the occurrence of birds. The small
plauts are the chief abode of insects, the want
of mosses and lichens coinciding with a total
absence of iiuraus, limits, therefore, to its
minimum the occurrence of insects, the exclu
sive food of small birds in all extremely eleva
ted parts of the globe, where grains are no
more found. We indeed met. travelling twenty
consecutive days between heights of 14,000 to
18,200 feet, only with three individuals be
longing to a species of Friugilla, but occasion
ally a few large carnivorous birds, as vultures,
were met with. The Gorkhar, or wild ass, an
animal, which, as I mentioned before, has
been ofteu confounded with the Kiang, or
wild horse, inhabits chiefly the rather hilly di
stricts of Beloochistan, part of the sandy
plains of Sindh, and it is to be found, if I am
not mistaken, to the westward of Beloochis
tan, in Persia, where it is called Koolan.
Dr. Barth lately told me, that, according j
to the description I have him, he thinks the i
asses he saw in Africa identical with the j
Oorkhars, or wild asses of Sindh and Beloo- j
chistan. I will now try to give an explaua- |
tiou about the fabulous Unicorn, or animal i
which is said to have one horn ouly. This an- j
imal has been described by Messrs. Hue and :
Gabet, the famous travelers in Eastern Thib- j
et, according to information they received, as
a species of autelope with one horn placed un
symmetrically on his head. Wheu my brother
Hermann was in N'epaul he procured speci
mens of horns of a wild sheep (not of an ante
lope) of very curious appearance. At first
sight it seemed to be but one horn placed on
the centre of the head ; but, on eloser exami
nation, and after having made a horizontal sec
tion of horn, it was found to consist of two
distinct parts, which were included in a horny
envelope, not unlike to two fingers put in one
finger of a glove. The animal, when young,
has two separate horns, which are, however,
placed so close to each other, that the inte
rior borders begin very soon to touch each oth
er ; later, by a slight consequent irritation,
1 the horny matter forms one wtrotertop+ed mfs
and the two horns are surrouuded by this hor
ny substance, so that they appear at first sight
to be but one.
In conclusion, allow me to say a few words
| about migratory birds. There are no m'gr.i
tory birds in the Himalaya ; we nowhere and
at no season found flocks crossing the Ifiraa
lays, as many birds of Europe cross the Alps,
between Italy and Germany. The Himalayan
birds do not change their abodes on a lartre
scale ; the different various heights themselves
afford them the opportunity to select the cli
mate they require iu different seasons. In the
plains of India, however, chiefly in Bengal, a
large number of birds disappear during the
breeding time ; they do not, however, leave
India altogether, but select their abodes in
lower, impenetrable juugles of the delta of the
Ganges and Brahmapootra, calLd the Sunda
bunds, where they were fouud by my brother
Hermann in large quantities, whilst at the
same time they entirely disappeared iu Beu
gal Proper.
A STAMPEDE ON THE PRAIRIES. —About an
hour after the usual time at which the horses
were brought in for the uight, hobbled, and
otherwise secured near the tents and fires of
their respective owners, an iudistinet sound
arose like the muttering of distant thunder.—
As it approached it became mingled with the
howling of all the dogs iu the encampment,
and with the shouts and yells of the Indians.
In coming nearer, it rose high above all these
accompaniments, aud resembled the lashing of
heavy surf upon a beach. On and on it rolled
towards us, and partly from tny own hearing,
partly from hurried words and actions of the
tenants of our lodge, I gathered that it must
be the fierce and uucotitrollable noise of thou
sandsof panic-stricken horses As tl.is living tor
rent drew nigh, I spraug to the front of the
tent, seized my favorite riding mare, and, in
addition to the hobbles, which coufined her,
twisted the long lariat round her fore legs,
then led her immediately in front of the fire,
hoping that the excited and maddened herd of
horses would divide, and pass on each side
of it.
As the galloping mass drew nigh our horses
began to snort, prick up their ears, and then
tremble ; and when it burst upon us, they be
came completely ungovernable from terror
All broke loose and joined their affrighted
companions, except my mare which struggled
with the fury of a wild beast, aud I only re
tained her by using ail my strength, and at
last throwing her ou her side. On went the
maddened troop, trampling, in their headlong
speed, over skins, dried meat, &c., and throw
ing down some of the smaller tents. They
were soon lost in darkness of night aud the
wilds of the prairie, aud nothing more was
heard of them, save the distant yelping of the
curs, who continued their ineffectual pursuit.
This is a stampede, and is one of the most ex
traordinary scenes I ever witnessed, as may
easily be imagined by any one who reflects
that this race of terror is run in darkness, ou
ly partially lighted by the fitful glare of half
extinguished fires, and that it is, moreover, run
by several thousand steeds, driven by terror
to ungovernable madness.
M RS. PARTINGTON ox WEDDIXGS.— " I like
to 'tend weddings," said Mrs. Partington, as
she came back from one in church, aud hung
her shawl up, aud replaced the bonnets in the
long preserved bandbox. " I like to see young
people come together with the promise to love,
cherish and nourish each other. But it a very
solemn thing, where the minister comes into
the chancery with his surplus on, and goes
through the ceremony of making them muu
aud wife. It should be husband aud wife.—
It isn't every husbaud that turns out to be a
man. I declare 1 never shall forget when Puul
put the nuptial ring on mv finger and said,
" With my goods I thee endow." He used to
keep a dry goods store then, aud I thought he
was going to give me the whole there was in
it. I was young and simple, and didn't know
till afterwards that it meaut only one calico
dress a year !"
POWER OF THE SCN.—A distinguished chem
ist in a recent lecture, while showing that all
species of moving power have their origin in
the rays of the sun, stated that while the iron
tubular railroad bridge over the Menaie straits
iu England, four hundred feet long, bent but
half an inch under the heaviest pressure of a
train, it will bend an inch and a half from its
usual horizontal line, w hen the sun shines up
on it for some hours. He stated that Bunker
Hill Monument is higher in the evening than
in the morning of a sunny day ; the little sun
beams enter the pores of the stones like so
many wedges lifting it up.
KEK.V. —Wc know a lady who will relish
this ; —" One of the sex writes, rather spicily.
" that though a tew American ladies live in
idleness, the majority as vet work themselves
into early graves—giving the men an opportu
nity to try two or three in the course of their
own vigorous lives."
friyA cuntrnglawyer meetirg with a d-rewd
old friend on a white hore determined to quiz
him. "Good morning daddy! Pray what
makes your horse 'ook so pale in the face "
" Ah ! my dear friend," repliel the old man,
"if thee had looked through the halter as
long, thee would look pale too."
A FEMALF. IRISH BILL. —An Irish woman,
who had been convicted of illegally selling spi
rits, on receiving sentence, f rvently clasped
her hands and prayed that " h's Honor might
never live to see his wife a poor widow, and
obliged to sell rum to support the children."
A lover has been pithily described an
a man, who, in his anxiety to obtain posses
sion of another, has 10-t possession of himself.
S@*A tailor, who io skating fell through
the ice. dtcared that If: would ti*er again
hftru s hot jooa* for a cold duck
VOL. XVIII. XO. 22.
THE CRASH —A FKARTCLTAL*. —We talked
soraewbat, and had our say, about those dear*,
the hookers, that promenade and crowd the
streets just like a band of troopers ; but'tother
[ da? we saw a sight we cannot help relating,
and so will tell it as it was, without one !iu
abatiug. A young lady, and full of life, rig
ged out in finery gay, was sailing o'er tho
crowded walks, before the breeze uwav. It
really was a s| loudid sight as thus she oiore'd
along, borne by a st-ff north western wind,
th it blew quite fresh and strong. She really
looked like proud ship, just at theclo.se of day
moving along with all sail set, from skysail
down to stay. The crowd looked on with
wondering eyes, and smiled them at the tight,
and prayed old Boreas he would keep bia
breeze fair but light. For such a craft. &4
this they saw, with such a spread of sail, could
se roe withstand the la?t, or e'en this
present gale. As thus she skipped it o'er tho
walk, she felt but little gloom, and far ahead
as she could see, there was no lack of room ;
for little boys, and boys grown men, like boats
on the river, would leave the cbauuel when
their eyes this big ship did diskiver. But sud
denly the maiden's eye and face grew dim with
fear, for coming upon the narrow walk, and
drawing nearer, near ; another craft just like
herself, and spreading all her sail, " with sol
dier's wind" was drawing through the very
narrow trail. There was no room—oh, city,
shame ! for two such crafts to pass, and should
they meet, thus booming on, what sad result.?
alas ! Both saw the danger in their way, both
trembled with affright, and each asserted
'ueath her lips that she aloue was right. Tho
crowd looked on with blanched cheek, as on
they nearer drew, and thought that one would
surely yield, and let the other through. Oh,
foolish crowd, didst ever kuow a woman thus
to yield, acknowledge conquered l>y her sex,
and conquered leave the field ? There was a
crash, the two had met, und thousands held
their breath, and closed their ears they might
shut out, the fearful knell of death. For miles
around the air was full of fragments scattered
wide, 'twas then the crowd recovered thetn,
and hastened to the side. Oh, what a scene 1
an hour before where youth und beauty reign
ed, was only seen a jaugled mass, and ground
with hoops was stained.— Milwaukee Ameri
can.
M ANCFACTCHE or WATCHES. —The maroufac
ture of watches forms one of the principal
branches of Swiss industry ; it is confined,
however, particularly to the cantons of Geneva
Neufcbatel, Vaud and the Bernese Jura. This
depends entirely upon local circumstances,
which in the cantons of Geneva and Neuf
chatel, are abundunt capita', cheap labor, and
absence of other trades, with the natural love
for the fine hand work ; and, in the Jura, the
inclemency of the winter, which forces the or
derly, patient and industrious people to indoor
employments. The division of labor is carried
to such un extent, that a movement of a watch,
worth twenty-five cents, passes through fifty
or sixty hands.
The above mentioned cantons probably man
ufacture two-thirds of the watches in the
whole world ; the total annual number has
been estimated at 1,200,000. The most ex
pensive and finest watches are made in Gene
va, as also many chronometers. Watch-casea
are chiefly manufactured, and it is calculated
that several hundred chasers and many enamel
painters arc employed in this work. The small
watches mounted in bracelets, kc., arc princi
pally made here. In the canton of Neufcha
tel, the towns of Lode and Chnux de Fonds
are the chief localities of trade ; all the valleys
surrounding these towns are occupied by
watchmakers and their families. These val
leys contain many factories, which, however,
generally manufacture cheap and inferior watch
es. Comparatively few clocks are made.
A GEM FROM JOHNSON*. —The following pas
age from l)r. Johnson's "Journey to the He
brides," is a beautiful rendering of a truth
which cannot be too often rehearsed in tho
public ear :
Life consists not of a series of illustrations,
aetiou, or elegeu' e joyuteuta; the greater
part of our time passes in compliance with ne
cessities, in the performance of daily duties, in
tlie removal of small inconveniences, in thn
procurement of petty pleasures ; and we are
well or ill at ease, as the main stream of life
glides on smoothly, or is ruffled bv small ob
stacles and frequent interruption. The true
state of every nation is the state of common
life. The manners of the people are not to
be found in schools of learning, or the palaces
of greatness, where the national character w
obscure, obliterated by travel or instruction, by
philosophy or vanity ; nor is public happiness
to be estimated, by the assemblies of the gay
or the banquets of the rich.
The great ma.-s of nations is neither rich nor
gay ; they whose aggregate constitutes the
people, are found in the streets and in tho
villages, in the shoj s and the farms ; and from
them, collectively considered, mnst the meas
ure of general prosperity taken. As they ap
proach to delicacy, a nation is refiued ; as
their conveniences are multiplied, a nation, at
least a commercial uation, must be denominat
ed wealthy.
It is an easy tling to be a controver
s.Vnßt, but to be a candid seeker for truth—
that is not so easy. To play the lawyer ou
one side or another is not difficult ; though it
may give scope to finer talents than are needed
to find the right without either logic or learn
ing. The highest happiness as well as the
best philosophy is to see good iu all, and to
believe it where we cannot find it. There is
nothing truer than this ;—God admits into
his courts uo advocates hired to see but one
6ide of a question."
Felix M'Carty, of the Kerry Militia,
was geDeraily late on Parade. " Ah, Felix,"
said the sergeant, " yoo Bre always last."—
"Aisy. Sergeant Sullivan," was the raphe,
I " sor'y seice oce EJUS* i>* last "