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THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
r u# per ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
, :rS day Morning, September 16, 1858.
GRIEF FOR THE DEAD.
, irt , that never cease to yearn 1
rimming that ne'er are dried!
jead. though they depart, return
,\i if they had not died!
rjc livins are the only dead ;
I c JeaJ live—nevermore to die :
,' often when we mourn them fled
r tfV never were so nigh.
A-d though they lie beneath the waves,
",'i-leep within the churchyard dim—
.t' through how many different graves
children go up to Him !)
w efr rv grave gives up its dead
' i*. it is overgrown with grass !
- why should hopeless tears be shed,
Or need we* tv. Alas!
. f hy should memory veil'd with gloom,
. 3 J like a sorrowing mourner craped,
- weeping o'er an empty tomb
Whose captives have escaped !
-. -., u t a mound—and will be mossed
Whene'er the summer grass appears
T'.el-red. though wept, are never lost ;
We only lose our tears.
yV, Flope may whisper with the dead.
Rr bending forward where they are ;
5: Memory, with a backward tread,
Otnmunes with them afar
flu:: ys we lose are but forecast,
And we shall find them all once more
Te look behind us for the Past,
Butlo! 'tis ali before!
SI i s 1111 auto us.
[For the Bradford Reporter.]
THE TEACHER'S INFLUENCE.
Sua low, repulsive looking, out of the way '
oi house, a female of seventeen commences
- libors as a teacher ; She is modest and !
•(•tending, but little acquainted with the j
Ij'lys of the world" and confiding ; she has ,
nuined to liecome a teacher—not to es
f toil, for she knows full well that the !
I .ful teachers' life is one of unremitting la- ;
• and anxiety, but she believes, aye, she j
I in her soul that God has a work for her
t jo among the children of her country ; she
I not entered upon this work without count
bits cost, estimating to some extent its far
I hing consequences, and her own respousi
In this humble building, is she found at all
| ier seasonable hours, either engaged in
I jmmiieating information to those around
1 • ur preparing herself for the pleasant du
.- of ln-r school; sometimes might she he seen
i e in the fields, or along the bank of the
muring streamlet selecting the sweetest
raj flowers to place upan the unplaned ta
in the school-room ; sometimes her hour
■ school would he spent in arranging the j
•greens around the rough uncouth window
i door casings, sometimes in cleaning the I
s.-j around the building and selecting the I
Istp!-_-asaut and suitable places for the small ,
" n to build their play-houses, aud the ;
.• ones to jump the rope or roll the hoop; ;
1 ?onietimes, aye often, would she retire j
r -i human vision ant 1 pour out her soul in
Pent prayer to that being who gives grace j
L s and upbraids not ; sometimes, too, did
'' MJ' ls gather near that spot and, unseen
"w, eagerly listen to catch Iter low whisp
she prayed for herself, for them and
" world—tears would trickle down their
while they listened to her earnest peti- ;
4 that she in ght be a good and faithful '
■•r and they studious, dutiful, conscicn
- olars : on such days was that school
• orderly, the teacher, if possible, more
a'l cheerful, and the pupils more obc
' !l ' -quiet way did this young lady spend
1 >'! r year until she saw grown up around
1 generation which she had educated.
• services were sought after far and near,
• diose to remain in the humble building
' th .-he commenced her labors, to con
>o instru'-t those committed to her care,
'be years came round no crowded hulls
1 with applause because her confiding
*■ irs had acquitted themselves with credit
(laminations, no editors or corespond
prepared fulsome articles to praise her or
f 1 hilars, no doting parent came scores of
f s 'o listen and be delighted with the per-
I lar ce of their children, still she labored on
1 h'f sacrificing labors were appreciated
• did visit her school, and were
. ' • to >ee their offspring under the charge
\ '' l a teacher.
: little dojthey know, who live in marble
of the wretchedness that is endured
\ 'lie shadow of their own dwellings, und
t edo those teachers know, who are en
• • m acadamies, high-schools, colleges and
'""its, of the hardships of those who are
the first elements of all science to
I b'O are ere long to become their pupils.
, ' they are in convenient, well furnished
' Occupying cushioned armed chairs, they
a best ow a thought upon those who are
ln hovels with no conveniences or
>"' rls even for their pupils or themselves.
. , apparatus is ut their com
'•'he common school teacher has nothing
. "t. in explanations and illustratious ;
. e seminations, exhibitions, newspaper
- arid the praises of the great, are sound
" '"mo and proclaiming the wonderful
w 1 former, the latter grope on in
it be for both if the teachers ol
■ ''yutr institutions of learning would sym
+ with those engaged in our com
ir j; * n P r ' mar y schools, if they would entei
a , 3i1 7 and feelingly into their tronbles anci
- • •<-. _'2 it i's sf tboj
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
would occasionally visit them in their humble
wayside " Peoples' Colleges," and speak to
them words ol cheer and encouragement.
This, Mr. Editor is no fancy sketch, no con
juration of the imagination. I seem at this
moment to see the smiling, sweet, benignant,
(not handsome such as the world calls,)counted
nance of that beloved teacher, as ber pupils
ran to meet her, if any of them were at the
school before she was, or as they gathered
around her when she came from her " bower
of prayer," her kind, persuasive but firm man
ner will never be effaced from my mind, Me
thinks even now I heer her polite requests,
her gentle reproofs, her well timed admonitions,
her sorrow dissipatiug, tear drying approvals.
But she died, died in the midst of her nfb
fulness, died as a good soldier dieth, at her
post. Ah 1 a day of sorrow was that, when
the scholars were told that Miss C. had been
carried home too sick to teach any more ; a
day of grief and sadness for little hearts and
a melancholy day for those more advanced,
who had listened to her teachings in days gone
by. Her willing spirit passed up to its Crea
tor, and the grave covered her body. Now
what was this teacher's influence ? for this is
the question to which my mind was directed
when I commenced this article. Did she live
for naught ? Did her acts, her teachings die
with her ? Ah ! no, no ! they live yet, and
act and teach. Think you those little ones,
that drank in every word, copied every act,
followed every example of their beloved in
structress, have forgotten all ? Some of her J
many pupils have become senators, judges, j
| and ministers of the gospel, and very many of
them have become teachers in other portions
of our country, and have carried into their
schools the lessons learned of her.
And where are the fathers and mothers that j
she instructed ? where the brothers and sis-1
, ters ? Have they exerted no influence upon :
i their fellows, which influence was received di-
I rectly from her ? Yes, the name of that kind, j
faithful, fearless, christian teacher is revered j
in that whole country till this day, although a
j generation has grown up who knew her not,
, only by her works. Years after her death,
tho>e who had been her little scholars in her
, last school, refrained from doing what she had !
forbidden, lest they might not be permitted i
to spend their eternity with her in heaven.— |
i No influence ! why with emphasis inay it be j
, said that she molded the characters and shap
ed the destinies of those under her care, and |
that influence is still operating in those who ;
know not whence it came. Eternity alone i
can unfold the amount of good doue by that I
devoted friend of children.
Such, feJlow teachers, may be your work if
you follow iu the right path. You will, you
must exert an influence, either for good or for
evil. Each word and act is operating npon
undying minds ; each day you are making im
pressions more euduring than the everlasting
hills. Look well then to your work, prepare
yourselves for it by patient application and a
rigid adherence to the strictest rules of morali
Has the faithful teacher no reward ? Yes!
a reward better, richer by far than piles of
hoarded gold ; more lasting than marble pala
' ces ; a name that shall grow brighter and
brighter when the names of conquerors have
: rotted in dark oblivion. What though no
fawing sycophants herald forth your achieve
: merits—no historic page records your glorious
| d e ed—no marble column proclaims to coming
generations that such a being lived, labored
and died. You have a record of your works
that shall outlive these all ; it is written in
1 souls immortal, and registered on heaven's
eternal records. C. 11. C.
THE FOOT OF A IIOK.SE.— It is a marvel of
mechanical ingenuity, which no mere human
; inventive faculty ever could have devised. —
i Often has the human hand been taken to illus
trate the Divine wisdom; but whoever may ex
amine his horse's foot, will find it scarcely less
curious. Though all parts arc somewhat com
plicated, vet their design is simple and obvious.
The hoof is not, us it appears to the careless
eye, a mere solid lump of insensible bone,
fastened to the leg by a joint. It is made of
a series of thin layers, or leaves of born, about
live hundred in number nicely fitted to each
other, and forming a lining to the foot itself.
Then there are as many more layers bc'onging
to what is called the coffin-bone and fitted into
this. These are all elastic. Take a quire of
paper and insert the leaves, one by one, into
' those of another quire, and you will get some
: idea of the arrangement of these several layers.
Now, the weight of the horse rests on as many
• | elastic springs as there are layers in his tour
feet, about four thousand ; and all this is con
, I trived, not only for the easy conveyance of the
J horse's own body, but of human bodies and
whatever burden may be laid upon him.
You CAN NEVER RUB IT OUT —OSC pleasant
afternoon a lady was sitting with her little son
a white haired boy, five years of age. lhe
mother was sick, and the child had left his
play to stay with her, and was amusing him
self in priuting his name, wiih a pencil, on pa
Suddenly his busy fingers stopped. He made
a mistake, and wetting his fiucer, he tried
again and again to rub out the mark, as he
bad been accustomed to do on his slate.
" My son," said his mother, " do you know
that God writes down all yow do in a book ?
He writes every naughty word, every dis
obedient act, every time you indulge in temper
and shake your shoulders, or pout your lips ;
and, my boy, yon can -never rub it out
The little boy's face grew very red, and in
a moment tears ran down his cheeks. H's
mother's eye was on him earnestly, but she
said nothing more. At length he came softly
to her side, threw his arms round her neck,
and whispered, "Cau tbe blood of Jesus rub
it out ?"
Dear children, Christ's blood wn rub out
the evil you have done, and it is the only thing
' in the universe that cod do it. " Tbe blood
of Jesas Christ, His Sco, c.'cocfetb us from s"
" REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
(From Reynold'* London Miscellany.J
AN AMERICAN HEROINE.
A tall, slender figure, with brown hair fall
ing over the shoulders, aud a pale, resolute face,
clad iu a long flowing dressing gown, and hold
ing, a light high above its head, aud looking
steadily down on me, as I asccuded the stairs
—this was what I saw as I went up to mv
room in the Spread Eagle Inn, Grace church
St., on the night of the eighteen of September,
1848, as I am a Christian !
1 stopped short and looked at the figure, as
it was looking at me. I had not beeu drink
ing I was not walking iu my sleep, and more
than all, I knew the face and form—but what
in the name of common sense, was a young la
dy doing in the passage of an old Inn at that
hour, alone, and in such a dress ? She blushed
scarlet as I drew near, and wrapped her dress
ing gown more closely around her ; but the
next moment she was as pale as before, and
spoke to me eagerly and hurriedly, but in a
very low voice.
" Sir, are you the landlord of this Inn ?"
" I am not, madam."
" Do you know where he is ?"
" Down stairs in the coffee room, I think.
But what is the matter ? Are you iil ? Has
anything gone wrong ?"
She stamped her foot slightly with impatience
and looked me full in the face. Fine eyes she
had—blue and soft, in general—but now they
" Don't stop to ask such questions,sir! Bring
him here at once ; and come back with him
yourself. Bring pistols, if you have them, do
you hear ? And run for your life—for your
life !" she added, leaning over the bannisters,
and speaking in the very same low, hurried
I wag away in an instant, though I knew
no more of my errand thau the mau in the
moon. But I should like to see the man who
would not have done the same. Apart from
the fact that she was claiming my aid and pro
tection, there was something in the ring of that
voice, low as it was, and the flash of the eye,
that warned me she was not to be trifled with.
She would have made a good general, had she
been a man ; and, I wager my head, not a sol-1
dier would have dared to retreat, had she spo
ken as she did to me that night. But before I
finish my story, I must begin it. I am not a
blundering fellow My wile always says, if a
mistake can be made, I am sure to make it ;
and I believe I was going to tell you about the
landlord's coming, before I said what he was
coming for. Now, then, I will commence the
I asked the landlord about the party in the
evening. He looked at the book, and read
the names—Rev. Edward Williams, and ludv,
Mrs. Arnold, New York city.
"They ure Americans, then ?" I exclaim-
"So it seems. They came here three weeks
ago by the packet, and are going to Paris next
month. Very nice people they seem, but they
have queer ways. All Americans have, 1 am
" Yes—they seem odd to us, no doubt," I
said musingly, scarcely knowing what I had
answered. And then started for my room,
which was No. 40.
I must now proceed to state that Mrs. Ar
nold's room was on the second floor, just above
No. 40, and looking out upon Grace church
street itself. To it she went on quietly on that
eventful evening, at the hour of ten. Some
thing made her wakeful. She sat down at her
toilet table, and talked a while to the house
keeper, who had come up with clean pillow ca
ses, and asked many questions about the house
and family. How Giey broached the topic, I
do not know—but after a time they began to
think,Jand to speak about that strange pheno
menon, called " spiritual rapping." The Cock
Lane ghost was brought upon the carpet, and
various other stories told,till Mrs. Arnold grew
nervous, and laughingly declared she would
hear no more. Then the housekeeper bade
her good night,and she locked her door and be
gan to prepare for lied.
The room was large, rather dark, and full of j
corners and recesses The light of the two |
wax candles on the toilet table only served to
make these corners visible in their shadowy
gloom. The bed was high, and hung about
with (lark crimson curtains ; the furniture of
the room was dark, too ; and the cushions of
the chairs and the covers of the tables red al
so. It is n color which needs much light to set
it off to advantage ; it looked dismal enough to
her just then At one end of the room a door
led into a kind of a large closet, which was un
furnished, and looked out, into the courtyard;
but this door opened oat into Mrs. Arnold's
room and looked on that side. Sometime linen
was kept there ; and the housekeeper had evi
dently been there that night, for the key was in
the lock and the door a little njar. Mrs. Ar
nold would have preferred it shut, hut she was
too timid to cross the room just then.
She uudrcssed slowly, singing in a low voice.
As she bent down to unlace her boot, she hap
pened to cast her eye towards the clost, (she
had a vision like an eagle,) and to her surprise
and terror, she saw the door move distinctly—
only the lower part of it, for she had presence
of mind enough not to start, and the bed con
cealed the upper part as she was stooping. The
legend of that woman who saw the great boot
of a man tinder the bed, yet had the courage
to stay in the room all the evening, going on
with her ordinary household duties within
reach of the assassin's knife, till her husband
came and she was safe, flashed ncross ber mind
and taught her how to act. She yawned luxu
riously, interrupting her singing one moment
and then went on with a steady voice. After
she had prepared for bed, she folded her dress
ing gown around her, and brushed her hair be
fore the glass. In that mirror she could see
the door mote now and then, as if her visitor
was getting impatient ; and ouce it creaked.
She started, n*turallT, and threw ber slipper
against the wall, as if to frighten away the
mice, aud resumed her occupation. When that
was over, she went to ber jewel case, wbicb
stood iipoo tbe toilet table, and turned its
bright rorteutFCct fr. a heap before her Pl.e
I held a spray of diamonds against her hair,as if
to try its effects, she clasped and unclasped her
bracelets, and toyed with ber rings. Mean
while, the door creaked again, and letting an
unset diamond fall to the ground, and stooping
to pick it up, she SAW, with a rapid glance, that
a burl?, ill-looking man, was peering at her
from behind the curtains of the bed. He start
ed back, thinking himself discovered ; aud
in that moment of horrible anxiety—that
moment which, for aught she knew, might be
her last—what did she do ? She could hear
his breathing distinctly sharpened as all her
senses were, and almost felt the cold steel in
her heart ; and so made she herself a mocking
courtesy in the glass, and held the diamond
spray above her forehead.
" Duchess of Nemours!" she said softly.—
" Aud why not ? I should look well with a
coronet. I wish my husband was dead !"
She leaned her head upon her hand, and
seemed to think. A subdued rustling told her |
that the robber was retreating. The door
swung softly together—she saw it in the glass
—and her resolution was taken.
" Two diamond sprays," she said, counting
the gems aloud, as she put them back in their
case. " A ruby and an amethyst bracelet,a ru
by ring, and a gurnet. But where is the gar
uet necklace, by the way ? How me
to mislay it 1 And my husband's gift too ! I
wonder if I have put it in my trunk ?"
The trunk stood very near the door of the
closet. She went and unlocked it and tumbled
its contents out upon the floor, bending over it
with her light, while that man was within two
feet of her ! I wonder how she had the nerve
to do it. Indeed, she said afterwards that she
knew he was bending down too, and looking
over her shoulders at the trinkets as she turned
them over with a steady hand ; and that her
greatest difficulty was too keep from breaking j
out into hysterical laughter, and so betraying i
that she knew of his presence.
The bracelet was not there. She pushed the
things aside impatiently, shut down the trunk, 1
and placed the candle on the lid. Then she |
stood up, with her finger on her lip, and head
" Where can the necklace be V
She turned as if to go by the closet, towards
a chest of drawers, that stood in the corner of
the room ; made one step past it ; whirled sud
denly, and, pushing both hands upon the door
with all her might, locked and double locked it
in a second. She heard a terrific oath inside as
the robber threw himself against it, tio late ;
and, snatching up her candle, sped out for help, j
She found me as I have described, while I was j
coining up the staircase, and she stood at the
head of it.
In three minutes after she had spoken to me,
I came buck with the landlord, the waiter,
Charles, the head hostler, and boots."—
They were all strong men, and the landlord
had his pistols. Boots, I remember, carried
the poker, and I snatched up a large carving
knife, from the sideboard. What did thut
woman do, when she saw our procession, but
burst out laughing !
" You came as if you were going to join the
army in Flanaers," she said after she had rela
ted her dangerous adventure. " I have locked
the man up safely, and you will frighten hiin
to death with your savage looks."
I colored up to the roots of ray hair, and
gave my carving knife to Charles, and sneak
ed behind the rest. 1 believe, at that momeut
1 hated her.
It was a great sight to see her marching be- j
fore us, with her light in her hand. An Eng-;
lish woman would have fainted ut being seen in
dishabille by five men ; but she, with the frank, i
free bravery of an American lassie, let the cir- i
cumstances explain the dress, and marshalled ;
us quietly to the room. There was her book
upon the toilet toble, and there were the jew
els glittering iu their case—the contents of her
trunk as she had left them,on the floor,and the j
closet locked and silent. She put she key into I
the landlord's bund.
" Help the gentleman out !*' she said lazily.
I think she was the bravest woman 1 have
I ever seen, and I could not help looking at her j
with admiration and respect. She took a groat j
shawl from a chair and wrapped it around her '
form, slightly, and then stood a little aside
We heard the man breathing heavily, as the j
key turned in the look, and the moment the '
door was open, he made a savage rush out, |
knocking the landlord and Charles down, ns if
they had been two boys. But " boots" and 1
caught him ; and the hostler snatched a strap
from Mrs. Arnold's trunk, and we had him
bound in a moment. She sat in her easy chair
looking on quietly, as if she had been at play,
and when his eyes met hers, she smiled.
" You see I was too much for you," said she
He growled out, " You are a clever woman,
by jingo ! I didn't think there was a woman
that could bring Bill Nevius to this."
"Thank you ray friend; 1 uever had a great
er compliment paid me.
We led him from the room,aud the landlord
turned to her—
" Of course you will wish to go to Mrs.Wil
liams room," said he, " or 1 can give you one
near tne housekeeper's."
" No ; I think I'll stay here," she said, in
her short, quite decided way. " I suppose you
have not left any of your friends behind you my
man ?" she added, turning to the prisoner.
The fellow grinned and pulled at his fore
lock, said " No, my lady, 1 was all alone."
" That will do then. Good night, gentle
men ! Accept my thanks now, and I will of
fer them more suitably w heo I am not quite 6o
She bowed us out of the room, and locked
the door behind ns. Every one wak loud in her
praise but roc; and as for the prisoner.be swore
with a more emphatic oath thau I would like
to record, that six months or year was noth
ing after that ; and if he thought all American
woman were like her, be would cross the ocean
to find one iu his own station, tbe moment he
w&s set free. But I was silent. And when
tbe bousebraaker had been consigned to the
tender mercies of tbe police, aud tbe hotel was
aud T a'one fr. my rocai, T rcarcely
knew what to tlifnk. Such courage almost
frightened me; and yet 1 remembered how pale
she looked, and that she leaned asrainsl the
raantlepiece at first, as if to support herself ;
so I forgave her bravery, and thought of the
beauty of her eyes and the sweetness of her
voice, and sank to sleep at last, with the firm
resolution that another day should not pass
over my head before I had told how I had
learned to love her.
But the next day brought its own events, I
and what was worse, its own personages, with j
it. A carriage stopped before the door as I
entered from my morning walk ; a tall, bpard
ed man, with an honest, handsome face, dart
ed into the house, and op the stairs, three .
steps at a time. There was a cry of surprise
on the second landing—a murmur, and a sud
den mingling of voices, tlint roused mv enriosi-.
Tv to the highest pitch. I ran up to my own
room, and passing the half-open door of No. )
42, there was my divinity in the arms of the
stranger (ccnfoaud him!) calling him ' George,' ,
and kis3iug him in away that made me long '
to poison him. Down stairs / went, three at
a time, and collared the landlord in the hall.
" Who is that man ?"
"Just eoroe ? In 42?" he gasped, half
choked and quite surprised.
" Yes 1"
" Captain Arnold—Mrs. Arnold's husband.
Just come from a voyage to India. I say, sir,
no more midnight adventures now, I suppose ?
You never will have a chance to play the part
of a guardian angel again—eh, sir ?—think
so, sir 7"
My hand dropped from his collar, and con
signing him and Captain Arnold to perdition, |
I walked out to the rooms of a friend, and de
liberately swallowed a strong glass of lemon
ade. And when I came to my senses once !
more, Mrs. Arnold and her party had gone. I
hear she is in America now—in New-York,
and I have no doubt she will read this story
aud laugh till her lovely blue eyes fill with
tears over my folly. She will show it to her
husband, too, and he will laugh. Never mind !
I must take care that Mrs. Cathcart shall ne
ver see it ; she, at least, must never know what
a tremendous falsehood I told when I swore
on my bended knees that 1 had nn-er loved
any woman before, (she wouldn't marry me on
any other conditions,) and thereby alone can
my peare of mind be ensured. So I make my
bow to Mrs. Arnold's blue eyes—to the pub- i
lie, and the Spread Eagle in Grace Church
PINS ANT> NEEDLES. —The manufacture of
the indispensable little pin wn commenced in
the United States between 1812 and 1820,
since which time the business has extended
greatly, and several patents for the manufac
ture of pins have been taken out The mnnu- j
fact ure in England and other parts of Europe
is conducted upon improvements made licre.-*-
Notwiihstuiidirig the extent of our own pro
duction, the United Stntes imported iu
pins to the value of $40,256, while the same
year there were imported into this country
needles to the amount of §246,060. Needles
were first made in England in the time of
" bloody Mary," by a negro from Spain, hut
as he would not impart his secret, it was lost
at his death, and not recovered again until
1666, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, when a
German taught the art to the English, who
have since brought it to the greatest pel fee- !
tion The construction of a needle requires
about one hundred and twenty operations, but
they are rapidly and uninterruptedly success
WATER. —Potatoes contain 75 per cent (by
weight,) and turnips no less than P3 per cent
of water. A beefsteak, though pressed be
tween blotting paper, yields nearly four-fifths
;of its weight of water. Of the human frame,
I bones included, only about one-fourth is solid
matter (chiefly carbon and nitrogen,) the rest
( is water. If a man weigliiug one hundred and
forty pounds was squeezed flat under a liy
| hraulic press, one hundred and live pounds of
j water would run out, and only thirty-five
! pounds of dry residue remain. A man is,
therefore, chemically speaking, thirty-five
i pounds of carbon and nitrogen diffused through
j six buckets of water. Borzelius, indeed, in re
' cording the fact, justly remarks that the " liv
i ing orgaism is to be regarded as a mass diffused
■ in water ;" atul Dulton, by a series of experi
i ments tried on his own person, found that of
the food with which we daily repair this water
i built fabric, live-sixths are also water.
A SWEET BUT. —My neighbor T had a
social party at his house a few evenings since,
and the " dear boy" Charles, a five year old,
was favored with permission to he seen in the
parlor. " Pa" is somewhat proud of his hoy,
and Charles was, of course, elaborately got up
for so great an occasion. Among other ex
tras, the little fellow's hair was treated to a
liberal supply of Eau dc Cologne, to his huire
gratification. As he entered the parlor and
made his formal bow to the ladies and gentle
men, " Look-ee here," said lie, proudly, "if
any of you smells a smell, that's mc. r ' The ef
fect was decided, and Charles, having thus in
one brief sentence delivered an illustrative es
say on human vanity, was the hero of the
evening. Every one could call to mind some
hoy of large growth, whoso self satisfaction,
though not perhaps so audibly announced, was
yet evideut, and not better founded.
" RUNNING " A CHURCH.- —A man sitting on
the verandah of an up country inn, hailed one
of the oldest inhabitants and inquired the de
nomination of the church on the opposite 6ide
of the road. The reply was, " Wai, she was
a Baptist nat'rally, but tbey dou't run her
B®* An aurist wa6 to remarkably clever,
that, having exercised his skill on a very deaf
lady, who had been hitherto insensible to the
nearest and loudest noiser, she had the hnppi
i ness the next dav of bearing fro© ber husband
' In California.
VOL. XIX. —XO. 15.
A Visit to the Cliff Wine.
The following accurate and interesting de
scription to the fatuous Cliff Copper Mine wo
take from a recent correspondence of the Al
The first sight of the Cliff Mine surprises
you. At a foot of a bluff some five hundred
feet in height is built up, in the midst of woods,
n considerable village; Neat houses to the
number of a hundred, strangely similar in size
nnd shape, and lurge enough to admit two
families each, cover the sandy clearings Here
i rises a church spire ; there the smoke pipes ot
the raining engines. The whole village o!
some thousand inhabitants belongs to the Cliff
Copper Company, ai.d has deen built by them
for their five hundred miners and their families.
Everything indicates order, system und thrift.
The president informed us that the company
hud then in their hands some sßo,Uooof wages
saved by the miners, and left with them for
safe keeping. The workshops of the mine, sit
uated above ground, are full of interest. Here
some six or seven steam engines—the largest
150 horse power—are employed in drawing
the buckets of earth nnd copper up the shafts,
in stamping the rock in which the copper is
for the most part found, nnd in the various op
erations of the mine. Hy these means I,o<*U
togs of copper were raised und prepared for
market in tiie year 1857, of which CG percent
was in pure solid masses. The annual expen
ses of tiie mine amonut to nearly $250,000
Shafts are already sunk to the depth of 500
feet below the foot of the cliff, or 900 feet be
low its summit, where two of the shafts have
! their opening into the upper air. The sinking
of these shafts is a work of immense labor and
expense, nnd though the company has been, on
the whole, so successful, it has thrown away
half a million of dollars in the unsuccessful
sinking of a single shaft.
We finished our inspection by a descent Into
the bowels of the earth We arrayed our
selves in miners' shirts, pants, coats and lioots,
and put woolen caps on our heads, to the
: front of which were affixed tallow candles,
fastened by a piece of moist clay. No ragged
irishman, I imagined, ever looked half so com
ical as we, every mans' head shining like a
traveling light house. We squeezed ourselves
i through a hole in the ground, and descended .
as into a well, the space of seven ladder leugths
making in nil some three hundred feet. The
damp black rock trickled with water, the air
was cold, and unutterable blackness stared at
us before and behind. From the bottom of
the ladder we followed our guides through u
low passage way, cut in solid rock, now and
then eyeing some fearful chasm, or clambering
down some rocky gorge, till we reached the
wonderful mass of pure copper whichjias been
lately discovered, and on which the miners
! were engaged. This mass is estimated to
weigh some one hundred and fifty tons, and
to be worth from fifty to seventy-five thousand
dollars. A dozen kegs of powder were the
other day put under it und fired without effect
ing its separation from the adjacent rock.—
Twenty-six kegs were then tried with but par
tial success, one end being still Jleft hanging
to the rock. The blast shook the mountain,
however, nnd demonstrated, at least, the use
of gunpowder. Some four months will be re
quired to fut up the mass into pieces which
can be raised to the surface.
Silver is also found mingled with tiie copper
; although tiie miners are said to pocket the
greater part of it. One of them is said t<>
have sold in Detroit silver to the amount of
SSOO, which from time to time he bad secured.
; The temptation is strong, the work is hard,for
it js carried on by night as well as by day, and
the wages of the miiurs are not greutly above
the wages of common laborers, being, on an
average tea shillings jx-r day.
A Ilorrn L CONVERT Recently the Meth
| odists held a great " revival in Wiscousin.—
I Among the converts was one whose previous
profession had been "Three Card Monte."—
Times being somewhat hard, he found little
profit in his legitimate " practice," and became
"converted," as the Elders say. One night,
at the suggestion of an Elder, lie rose to edify
the congregation with his experience, and thus
■ " delivered," himself : " Ladies and gentlemen
I mean brothers and sisters ; the Lord has
J blessed ine very much—l never felt so happy
before in all my life—(embarrassed) I say J
never felt so happy before in all my life—(very
i much embarrassed) —if any one thinks 1 ever
! did, they can get a lircln bet out of meP*
BRIGHT TO run LVST—A shoemaker, for
I the purpose of eclipsing an opponent who lived
j opposite him. put over his door the well known
j motto of " Mens consent recti, " (a mind cou
| scious of rectitude.) His adversary, to outdo
' him, placed a bill on his window, with the
j words "Alen's nnd ll 'omens consent recti
, &3?*A Quaker having soid a fine-looking
blind horse, asked the purchaser : " Well mv
j friend, dest thou see any fault in him?" " No,"
j was the answer. " Neither will he see any
; in thee," answered old broad brim.
fifcirA distinguished Indv once reproved her
| librarian for putting books written by male
and female authors on the same shelf. "Never
: do i',"said she, "without putting a prayer book
j between them."
Rudolph says that once upon a time a
! colored cook expected company, of her own
j kind, and was at. loss to entertain her friends.
Her mistress s-iid, "Chine, you must mike an
apology." " Good Lord ! missus, how can I
I make it ? I got no eggs, no hotter, uor noth
ing to make it with."
KSF* A man who avoids matrimony on ac
count of the cares of wedded life, is compared
to one who would amputate a leg to save bis
• toes from corns.
A Traveler announces that he one* be
held people "minding their own business!" This
I happened at sea—the passengers be ng toosidc
to aUcr.il to each other's cohcuuj.