jf j! .M P® ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. : jtorsday Morning, May 19, 1859. Stledcb sodrj. ' DON'T STAY LONG." j Ak of yearn in* ter.derncM flrscath her laahct lice, ud t p* anr a (weet pleading song. . :..pert. with a parting kUs, lklu*ed one, don't stay loug." ; • a.most always on her lip. Her gentle parting words. -•ret a* the fragianoe from rose lea vex A en by nit lephyra stirred, A lid l.uger.ug in the memory L u >ougs of Summer birds. And in his heart they nestle warm, a nen other scenes amid ; he slays not tdl aiie weary grows, And Iter fund ever are hid 1: icars winch lie .n bitterness beneath each veiling lid. vnd ob. how ma y hearts are kept By that love uttered song ! T . re > arceiy one who on life'a waves ll* >wiftly borne along, < . ebst ha* beard from sonic dear lips, ire iwcel word- " don't stay Isng." ill i s tlll anto us. Indian Life. in CAIT. JOHN S. FORD. • r of a band of Camanches usually • tan to his people very early in the in purling the news, and discussing This is succeeded by his orders. 'A . a iiange of camp is contemplated, the a gather the animals, saddie and pack I 1 !ge are takeu down and placed no.- The men and women ride after :.e fashion. Very young children are on ui k, at an age they would not be suf ' in. manage a horse, with us, in an eucio- The point of destination is known to i Le fuinilus leave as they get ready, ex : ui -"ine extraordinary occasions, or when .. . ■ apprehended. In any event, they a number of warriors on the lookout c n v -de It is almost impossible to np i a C'amaoche eainp without being dis covered When moving with their women and chil a arty of Camanches exhibit scenes of - tin- women talking, laughing, and j g kadi lliaih to keep them in places ; i with bow and arrow in hand, beating •- for small game, shooting snakes, run • i T • r -keltc-r in every direction ; mules ig at half speed over rocky places, with - r - trn.liug on either side, making a i -c louder than so many empty wagons ; i g warn, is with gaudy trappings, frolick- j ng and gibing ; when all these things are Mid together in a discordant mass, then it | ' n ally exciting to be travelling with the red I Mi-iren of the forest. netimes a Slamprdf. occurs to give addi tioMl variety to the scene. On such an coca-! t t dogs of the celebrated chief, Buffalo 1 iiumpli, feltcalled upon to do something; they i&vf chase to the running horses. Buffalo lumph became furious ; with strong bow ' udv arrows, he followed the dogs. The J was over un undulating prairie kind of aitry, and lasted some miles. The cunning tlie animals eluded the impending harm. 1 (- r.• 11 chief, with all his subtlety, was a long ' e followed by his canine companions. The "ei.ery —the stampede—the chase—the marl ''•nt-d Indian, made a panorama worth seeing, hardly paying for the trouble of reading. A halt being made, the women arrange eve rything— take care of the horses, set up the : zes, unpack the wood and water, and rook. I The warriors lounge about, gather in groups '■rd talk over matters and things in general. | f they cannot properly comprehend or account 'r, in any way,they possess considerable incre dulity. They deny the tales they hear of the N'<-ed of railway locomotives. Wheu some of 'hem were informed a steam car could ruu m the Culorado to Chihuahua, iu Mexico, they declared it impossible—"a horse could "b' run that far iu a day." ti ' . v have a game which may be called unt the bullet." The players sit down in a c'rele—siug & curious kind of a soug ; one (•' 't- a bullet, changes it from baud to hand, his arms in every possible direction. cienViV* tbi . ,lks bi lnan 'P'i'ations have suffi iin pi fc/v * U ' v^'fi c d the man appointed for that ;•' „ ' ho ! (ls °u(- both hands, and lets ivim fc 'nn bullet is. Every guess constifnn'n° n< lk ° r lbe ol ' ier - The number of icrro ~ !* 0 ' s ' we believe a matter roiv* = ln ti - ' ta H:s are kept with ar rhniiro hn i' S a P re!lt many articles lv one n"t !i - e ' s o,lc garment, and on bet wr,'-n him ? D6, i er rarts with ' U sta,lds oetween him aud nudity. I. r2i!, C thlS n e VS ,Ol ' Ward ' the womcn get Whor? !5 J are talkat 've, great *'th ' a " d , seem t0 e,, j°J a bit of scandal JIZrS hS their m °re civilized Sd n , e ® f peculiar amusements Cam- ■'' lu relished in circles polite. A tbon *° man UeVer seems bappy I anim- i Ln . vemlnlz ' l1 g• ,, The luckless little 1 they h|H V e ® Vuur ® d by those oppn whom I tbA ? ! tcd > th <7 get the ful! benefit of THE BRADFORD REPORTER. The children are roaming about examining every thicket aod hole, bathing, shooting ar rows, and making all those interesting uoises incidental to promising juvenility. The Camanches formerly owned large droves of horses. They have thinned them greatly within the last few years, by being compelled to kill them for food. Being shut out from the mustang range, between the Nueces and Rio Grande, was the cause. Horse meat with them is preferred to any other. The neck, im mediately beneath the mane, is considered a rare delicacy. The meat has a coarse fibre, is glu tinous, smells badly, has a peculiar sweetish tast?, which remains in the mouth for nearly a day. We never liked it even when starving for want of food. The liver is little better. Never commit tho indiscretion of applying a piece to your nose. A sudden rebellion of the stomach often follows such an imprudence.— Mule meat resembles beef in flavor. A fat mule makes very palatable eating. Young fawns are fine. Terrapins, rattle-snakes, prai rie-dogs and pole cats are very good. The Mcscalero Indians take their name from I the mescal plant. It belongs to the order of j plants usually called "bear grass," has a white ; head like a cabbage, is cooked by digging a 1 hole in the ground, building a fire in it, re moving the coals and ashes, and lining the bot tom aud sides with prickly pear leaves, depri- , ved of thorns by burning, putting in the mes cal, covering with cactus and building a fire ; upon the same, which must be kept up for twelve or fourteen hours. The edible part is soft and tastes like an Irish potatoe. It is covered with a thin fibrous substance. When j on an expedition between Pecos aud the Rio Grande, the Camanches use this and the spe- j cies of the maguey. The latter is cooked by simply roasting. It has an unpleasant taste. These plants will grow upon sterile,islands. A Camanche will eat liver, a young fawn, and many other things while raw. In Shanaco's camp, we saw au old rascal who offered to bet j he could eat anything. For a plug of tobacco he proposed making a breakfast upon a sub stance banished the farthest distance from our tallies. He was the nastiest thing in human shape we ever saw. Camanches, live, as our phrase is "from hand to mouth." They have little providence. When provisions are plenty, they consume enormous j quantities. They do not bear the pangs of hun- ! ger with the stoical resignation one would sup pose. Iu this particular, as in almost every other, the Deluwares are infinitely superior to j them. The Camanches have a religion ; they prac- j tice incantations, and believe in removing dis ease by charms and incantations. The Camauche enjoys a modicum of real | pleasure. His roving, devil-may care kind of life has attractions even to the white man. j THE EMPTY CRADI.K.— '• The mother gave, in tears and pain, The flowers she most did love, She knew she'd find them all again, In fields of light above." The death of a little child is to the mother's heart like dew on a plant from which a bud has perished. The plant lifts up its Lead in fresh ened greenness to the morning light, so the mother's sonl gathers from the dark sorrow ' through which she has passed, a fresh bright- ; ening of her heavenly hopes. As she bends over the empty cradle, and in fancy brings the j sweet infant before her, a ray of divine light is i on the cherub's face. It is her son still, but | with the seal of immortality on his brow. She ■ feels that Heaven was the only atmosphere where her precious flower could unfold without spot or blemish and she would not recall the loss. But the anniversary of its departure seems to bring its spiritual presence near her. \ ' She indulges in that tender grief which soothes like an opiate in all her passions nnd cares 1 of life. The world to her is no longer filled with human love and hope—in the future, so I glorious with heavenly love and joy, she has i treasures of happiness which the worldly, un- ! i chastened heart never conceived. The bright ' i fresh flowers with which she had decorated her room, the apartment where her infant died, are emblems of the far brighter hopes now dawn -1 ing on her day dream. She thinks of the glory and beauty of the New Jerusalem, where i the little foot will never find a thorn among the flowers to render a shoe necessary. Nor ; I will a pillow be wanting for the dear head re ! posing on the breast of the kind Saviour. And j she knows her infant is there, in that world of eternal bliss. She has marked one passage in | that Book—to her emphatically the Word of ' Life—now laying closed on the toilet table, which she reads daily : "Suffer little children, nnd forbid them not to come unto me ; for such is the kingdom of Heaven. POWER OF THE 8181.F,. A little girl had been attacked with a severe pain in her head, which ended in blindness. She was taken to an erai neut occnlist, who pronounced her incurable. She wished to know what the doctor said about her state, and her mother told her. " What, mother!" exclaimed the child, "am I never more to see the sun, nor the beautiful fields, nor you, my dear mother, nor father?—O! how shall I bear it I" She wrung her hands, and wept bitterly. Nothing seemed to yield her the slight est comfort till her mother, taking a pocket Bi ble from the table, placed in her hands. "What is this, mother ?" inqn'red the disconsolate girl. "It is the Bible, my child." Immediately a score of its most consolatory passages presented i themselves to her mind. She paused, tamed the poor, benighted eyeballs toward the ceil ing, while an angelic expression played on her , countenance, aud then, as if lifted with the Iloly Siprit, breathed forth in an impassioned, ; but scarcely andible whisper—" Thy will be doiu on earth as it is in lleavtn IT is a beautiful fact that the sweet bells of Easter morning once charmed away the bauut* ing spirit of poor Cbatterton, and stayed the band be had raised against bis own life. Jr yon want an iguoraipus to respect yon, "dresd to death," and wear watch seals aboat tbe sire of & br.ckbut. PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. " RE9ARDLKSS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANT QUARTER." Making Perfame. Have any of the uninitiated ever had any idea how perfumes are obtained from flowers? It is to many a mystery, any occult art, a pret ty kind of alchemy, a mild witchcraft. There is a rough notiou of machines like miniature wine-presses, where the flowers are squeezed, and bruised, and mangled, and made to give up their perfumes in a rude masterful manner, though it is rather puzzling to think how mig nonette, or sweet pea, or any other flower which loses its odor when crushed or dead, could be treated thus to any advantage. There are, it appears, four moaes of obtain ing the perfume of plants and flowers. The first is by expression—a mode only adopted when the plant is very prolific in its volatile or essential oil ; that is in its odor. The outer rind or pellicle of the lemon, orange, citron,and a few others of the same class, is chiefly sub jected to this process. The parts to be ex pressed are put into a cloth bag, and placed under a screw press ; sometimes laid, without 1 any bag at all, on the perforated plate through which the oil is to run. Wheu all the oil is expressed, it is left standing iu a quiet place for some time, to allow it to separate itself 1 from the water that came with it. It is then 1 poured off and strained. The second method is by distillation—a method used for lavender, cloves, seeds, herbs, but uot for the rarer flow ers, the odors of which are lost by heat ; only to be gained indeed by loving contact and care- j ful influence. The only notable fact in this process of distillation is that, in France, they apply fire directly to the still ; in England they distil by steam. Excepting for this difference this mode of chemical manipulation is too well known to need description here. The fire ap plied directly to the still sometimes gives a burnt odor to tha distillate, which is not en tirely disgareeable in some combinations. Maceration is the third process. Purified i beef or deer suet is placed with purified lard : in a clean metal or porcelain pan or steam bath, j When melted, the flowers required to be used i are thrown iu and left to remain from twelve to forty-eight hours ; the liquid fat is then strained, and fresh flowers added. This is re peated as often as is necessary ; and the po matum obtained therefrom is known as six, twelve, eighteen or twenty four, according to the strenth of the odor. For perfumed oil the same process is goue through ; fine olive oil being substituted for lard and suet. Orange, rose and cassie, are prepared thus ; violet and reseda are begun thus, aud finished by eufleur-1 age. This is the daintiest method of all. Eriflenr nge or absorption, is very little practised in England, though uniformly used in France for all the finest odors. Square frames with glass bottoms are spread with a layer of fat about a | quarter of an inch thick, and then sprinkled abundantly with flowers. They are suffered to i remain forty-eight hours, when a fresh supply j of spent and exhausted blossom is given; which process is repeated over and over again until the pomatum is sufficiently powerfully scented. For perfumed oil, coarse cotton cloths are sat urated with fine olive oil, and laid on frames j of wire gauze. These are treated in the same I manner as above ; and, when thoroughly per- ! fumed, arc placed under a screw press aud the i oil wrung from them—rich flowery oil, such as 1 Juuo or Venus might have used, and been : proud of, too. ! Odors are extracted from various parts of ! plants or flowers ; different in different kinds, j , The roots of orris and vitivcrti ; the stem or : j wood of cedar, santal or rosewood ; the leaves , of mint, thyme, and patchouli ; the flowers of i roses, violets, and other flowers ; the seeds of the Tonquin bean, and carraway, the bark of the cinnamon ; many gums and resins—ben zion, oilbanum, Ac.; these are a few instances of the various odoriferous parts of the differ- ; ent plants. Some indeed are more varied in their odoriferous elements. For instance, the ' j orange tree gives three distinct scents, and j i most flowers give two, according to their man- j : ner of preparation. From the leaves of the orange tree, comes petit grain ; from the flow ers, neroli; from the rind, the essential oil ; known as Tortugal. Again the orange flow-1 er of neroli, macerated in pomade is known as j orange flower pomatum. This, chopped up fine and put in rectified spirit, makes extract Ide finer d'ornnge, which is one of the most ; valuable bases to the perfumer—passing, with slight modifications, for sweet pea, magnolia, and scents of that class. Orange flowers dis tilled with water give the otto known as oil of neroli. The petit-grain, a quite different odor, | is extracted from the leaves and young unripe fruit of various species of citrons, and is used for scenting soaps. The neroli petale and bi- j garade help to form Hungary-water and eau de ! Cologne. The water which was used in dis-1 tilling the oil of neroli, when freed from oil, is eau de finer d'orange, a cheap and fragrant cosmetic of three qualities. The first is made from the distilled flowers ; the second, of the water used in distilling the oil of neroli ; and the third from the leaves, fiowers, and unripe fruit of every knd of orange trees. They are easily tested ; the first turning rose color nn der a few drops of sulphuric acid ; the second turning rose color, too, when quite fresh ; but after a short time this chemical result and the aroma both disappear ; the third does not change its color at all under sulphuric acid, and smells more of lemon than of orange. Who does not know the magic virtues at tributed to almond-paste ? But the largest amount of the almoud perfume of commerce comes from distilled laurel leaves and the ker nel of stone-fruit; also, from the skin of bitter almonds. The essential oil of almonds is got from the Dut itself; first pressed into a cake, then moistened with salt and water ; from the fermenation of this is produced the amygdalin and cmulsine coutained in the almonds. Laurel leaves and other analogous substances give the same results under the liko treatment. Four teen pounds of almond-cake yield one ounce of essential oil, which must then be dilated with spirit to become pleasant, the contracted , essence being too powerful to be tolerated. It , is much used ID eoap, cold cream, Ac., being esteemed as a good cosmetic Mlrabete is i m itated oil of almonds, made from benzole, (a product of tar oil,) and patented by Mr. Mans field, of Weybridge, England. This mirabane was used for perfumiug soap ; but it did uot succeed, and, after a short time, the license was withdrawn, since then this mirabane, or chemically speaking, nitro benzole, has not been applied to any of the general uses of per fumery.— 5. PUSH. I)R. FRANKMN'S SON. —Speaking of the son of Dr. Frankliu, the Newburyport Htruld snys : As the name of Dr Franklin is prominently before the public, it may uot be uninteresting to give some account of his son, William, about whom we think little is known by the commu nity at large Unlike his father whose chief claim is for the invaluable services he rendered to his country in her greatest need, the son was from the first to the last a devoted loyal ist. Before the Revolutionary war he held several civil and military offices of import ance. At the commencement of the war, he held the office of Governor of New Jersey, which appointment he received in 1673. When the difficulties between the colonies and the mo ther country were comiug to a crisis, he threw his whole influence iu favor of loyalty, and en devored to prevent the Legislative Assembly of New Jersey from sustaining the proceedings of the General Congress of Philadalphia- Tliese efforts did but little to stay the tide of popular sentiment in favor of resistance to tyranny, and soon involved him iu difficulty.— He was deposed from office by the wbigs, to give place to Win. Livingston, and seut pris oner to Connecticut, where he remained two years iu East Windsor, in the house of Capt. Ebeuezer Grant, near where the theological Seminary now stands. In 1788, he was ex changed and soon after went to England.— There he spent the remainder of his life, re ceiving a pension from the British Govern ment for his fidelity. He died in 1813 tit the age of eighty-two. As might have been ex pected, his opposition to the cause of liberty, so dear to the heart of his father produced ail estrangement between them. For many years they had no intercourse, when in 1781, the son wrote to his father. In his reply Dr. Frank lin says:— " Nothing has ever hurt me so much, and affected me with such deep sensations, as to find myself deserted in my old age, by my only son ; and not only deserted, but to find him taking np arms against me in a cause wherein my good fame, fortune and life were all at stake." In his will, also, he alludes to the part his son had acted. After making some bequests he adJs : " The part lie acted agaiust me in the late war, which is of public notori ety, will account for my leaving him no more of an estate he has sought to deprive me of." The patriotism of the father stuuds forth all the brighter when contrasted with the deser tion of his son. INFLUENCE OK A GOOD NEWSPAPER. —Show j us an intelligent family of boys and girls, nnd we find a family where newspapers are plenty. ! Nobody who has been without these silent pri vate tutors can know their educational power for good or evil. How important then to se cure those which tend only to good ! Have you never thought of the innumerable topics for discussion which they suggest at the break fast table ; the important public measures with which, thus early our children become familiarly acquianted ; great philanthropic questions of the day, to which unconsciou.-ly their attention is awakened, and the general spirit of intelligence which is evoked by these quiet visitors? Any thing that mukes home pleasant, cheerful aud chatty, shuns the haunts of vice, and the thousand and one avenues of temptations, should certainly be regarded, when we consider its influence on the minds of the young as a great moral and social blessing. tefr A city buck visited the Shakers at Leb anon some time ago, and as he was wandering through the village encountered a stout, hearty specimen of the sect, and thus addressed hiin : " Well, Broadbrim, are you much of a Sha ker ?" " Nay," said the other, " not overmuch, but I can do a little that way." " I should like to see you perform." " 1 can accommodate thee, friend," said the other quite coolly, and seized the astonished j customer by the collar and nearly shook him out of his boots. _ I TIME'S GnATirrnr AND REVENGE. —Time is a 1 good and faithful friend, but a most revenge- i ful and remorseless enemy. Like n deep feel- | ing and love desiring human heart, it treasures I up a grateful memory of kindness and a good service ; and is sure, sooner or later, to make | payment with the addition of compound inter- j est. But for every instance of neglect or abuse ! it takes certain and terrible vengeance ; and ! none who incur its anger can escape its puuish mcut; for, like dentil, time is inexorable. jSaT Wc donbt whether any other country exhibits a larger amount or proportion of use j less talent or misdirected energy, than ours.— Our clever voting men, in fearful superabun dance, addict themselves to law, to physic, to commerce, mainly because these seem the only pursuits which promise wealth and distinction. There has been no day of the last forty years, in which there were not four times as many trying to live by trade in this conntry, as were needed in that occupation—twice as many as could possibly succeed. PROGRESS. —" You see, grandmama, we per forate a hole in the apex and a corresponding aperture in the base ; and, by apptyiug the egg to the lips and forcibly inhaling the breath, the shell is entirely discharged of its contents." " Bless my sool," cried the old lady, " what wonderful improvements they do make ! Now, ID my young (feva, we just made a hole in each end and sucked." (From the Home Journal.) Courting in New England. FROM MR.EZSKIKL BENTON TO M it.ABRAHAM FITCH. SMITHVILLK, N". H. March 22,1862. MY DEAR ABE: —Since I last writ, I've beeu puttin* a climax on my life, by gittiu' married. Now, you needn't hoist your eye brows, and whissel—cause it's ull over. When I look back and kinder think of it coolly, I lay it all to my goicg into the quire. Ned and Bill Sims, and Joe PrcstOD, and half a dozen of 'em, had been at me more nor a month, wantin' me to come up and help 'em in the base, but I fought shy, tellin' 'ein I never could sing in meetiu'; but the truth was, I know'd ; I'd feel plaguy queer up among all them gals, I for female 'ciety always did take the starch ! starch out of me wondrous ; and aunt Barbara, I you remember, used to say that I was the awi- i ardest feller among the young women that she ; ever did see. Well, they pestered me so about i goiu', that what did Ido at last but go. I'd rather had a double tooth out twice over, but' then 1 was nshayied to say " no" any more.— So, on the next Sunday mornin' after I promised 'em, I dressed soraethin'smarter than ordinary and scented my handkerchief with peppermint, j and when I got to the church, had half a mind to give it no, but juss then Bill Sims come up and clapped nie on the back, and sez he, "Come Zeke, we're goir.g to have a prelude this moruiu'. We must - turn out strong oil thatand so I hud nothiu' else to do but just to go along up. Somehow or 'nother we went I up the gal's side, and when \ got to the top of ! the stairs, there, sure enough, was the hull of 'em, and hearin' my new creaky boots, what did they all do but turn clear around and look j straight at me. I tell you, I felt s'reaked, and i my head begun to go round ns if I'd been a ' driukiti'. I couldn't 'xackly see which way to go, but I tried somehow to git over where the fellers was ; when the fust thing I know'd I | tuiss'd the step, and went sprawling head fore- ■ must, and would have beeu down in the middle aisle, if it hadn't been for the front ol the gal lery. I got up us quick as I could, but my pantaloons was nil dust, my coat wus torn up the back, and the gals was a snickering as if they'd bust. This made me kinder desperate ; so 1 sat down and began to look at a music book awful hard, just as if notbin' had happen ed. But I didn't sing a note that mornin', and never was so glad as when meetin' was over. When the folks began to go out, 1 hung back a little, so as to get away unbeknown ; but the rest of them in the quire seemed to be awaitin' for something. I hud to push ahead, when I'll be bound if there was one of them gals there was a dozen that sez, so provokin', " Why, Mr.Benton, your coat is all torn," juss as if I didn't know that. I didn't say nothin' back, but hurried out, and slipped round under the shed till the folks was gone. Well, Abe, it was three Sundays after that 'fore I weut into the quire ageu ; for by that time, I gues sed it had all blown over, and Joe and the rest of 'em were at me all the while. That time I tuk partickler pains to be on hand as soon us the church doors were open, and got in the quire seats fust, so I tuk the gals, you see, one at a time, and not all in a me s s like before.— Well, I got along fust rate that day, and be gun after a few weeks to get used to it, when i something new turned up. One Sunday even ing I had taken my place at the end of the seat towards the gals ; and juss across the lit tle aisle at the end of the gals' seat towards us sat Hetty Burroughs. Now you recollect Hot ty—you know you cant skeer up many prettier faces than she's got any way. Well, that day her ribbon fixins set her off astonishen'. We were short of music books, and so, when we was standen op to sing the fust hymn, Hetty sez to me, sez she, " Mister Benton will you look over me ?" I kinder started but tuk hold. Well, when I begun to sing, I found that my voice was a little llusticnted, and that made Hetty Ink straight at rne, and then 1 was flus ticated wuss. and then I looked at her, and then she got to shakin', and down went the book clean over the front. "Ke chunk " it went, and made everybody jump. When llettv saw the book fall, she came nigh fainting, and grabbed my arm—not a purpose, you know, but kinder accidental. Well Abe, it was that what did it. For yon see, when meetin' was over, Hetty sez to me, as wc was going out. sez she, "Mr. Benton, I was so confused I didn't know what I was about. I beg pardon for taken hold of your arm." " Lor, ma'am," sez I, "why I liked it." And then Hetty blushed, and didn't say nuthin'. And then sez I, " J only wish you'd just take hold of my , arm and let me see you home." Well, do you ! believe it, there was Hetty and me a walking home that evening, arm in arm. When I left I her, and got to our house, I set down, nnd it I was for nil the world like a dream. I set up : all night rubbing my eye- - , aud a thinking nnd I theu I'd guess it wasn't ine but some other fel ; ler. Well the folks in the house didn't know what to make of me ; for I went on mighty curious, and not as I used to. I was consid erable 'stracted and couldn't eat nnthin', and I broke a tumbler, a meat dish, and two cups all in one day. As this was being rather ex pensive, the folks couldn't stand it any better nor me. Next day, after our walk home, I went to see Hetty, thinkin' I'd have a glorious time ; hut when I got to the house I set like a mum my, and conld't get up steam to ssy nuthin' nice. Yon see there was nothing there like a mnsic-book to start us. Well, I sec Hetty off and on for a fortnight longer, and all the town got a talkin' how I was sparking Hetty Bur roughs, and then I made Dp my mind that what was to be was to be, and so I calculated on makin' the thing sartin us soon as possible I seed that Hetty wasn't vexed at my stoppin' in 60 often ; and when a gal ain't vexed at you in such circumstances, yon may be sure she's rather taken with you. That's my flosophy— yon may want to nse it sometimes, Abe. Bo one evcnln' as T was a sittin' by H p tty, and had worked myself np to the sticking pint, sez I. " Hetty, if a feller should ask you to msrry bitn, what wud you ?U7 ?" Tbeu she langbed ai.d seashe, " That would depend on who asked VOL. XIX. —NO. 50. me."—Then scz I, " Suppose it was Ned Wil lis." Sez she, " I'd tell A rd Willis, but not you." Thnt kinder staggered me. But I was too cute too lose the opportunity, and so f sez agen, " Suppose it was mr 1" And then you ought to have seeu her pout up her lip, and scz she " I don't take no supposes." Well now you see there was nothing for me to do but touch the gun off. So bang it went. Sez 1. " Lor, Hetty, it's me. Won't you say yes ?" And then there was such a hollababalloo in my head, I don't know exactly what tuk place, but I thought I heered n yes whisperiu' some where out of the skirmish. Any how, after that, Hetty and me was en gaged, amis ix months after we were married. The day we was married we went off in the afternoon ears for Boston. When we got to Brattleboro', Hetty asked me together a glass of lemonade. Well, while I was in for Ibe lemonade, off started the cars and when I got out, with the lemonade in my hand, there they was, a hundred yards head start. Lor ! didn't I holler 1 " My wile ! My wife ! " I yelled like a Injun, and run like a Injun too.—Away went the ears, and I follur'd, scrcamin' and blowing and holding the lemonade all the time. Then I threw away the glass ; then I Itt my over coat go ; tticn my hat blew off ;and then I fell down. Mowed out, by the side of the track.— The first that roused me was Hetty's Toicc : " Zekel, Omy Z -kel ! are yon dead ?" You 6ee Hetty, seein' the cars was startiu' and I wasn't back with the lemonade, got out her self on the other side, and let the cars go with out her, and so I had been a cliasia' the cars, and Hetty had been a chasiu me. But, no matter, we're all happy agen, and I remain yours, EZEKIEL BENTON. AN ELOQUENT EXTRACT.— Generation after generation," says a fiue writer, " have felt as we now feel, and their lives were as active as our own. They passed like a vapor, while na ture wore the same aspect of beauty as that her Creator commanded her to be. The heavens shall be as bright over our graves as they are now around our paths. The world will have tig; same attraction for our offspring yet onboru that she had once for our children. Yet a lit tle while, and all will have happened—the throbbing heart will be stifled and we shall be rest. Our funeral will wind its way, and tho prayers will be said, and then we shall be left behind in silence and darkness for the worm. And it may be, for a short time we shall be spoken of, but the things of life will creep in, und our names will soon be forgotten. Days will contiuue to move on, and laughter and song will be heard in the room in which we died ; and the eye that mourned for us will be dried, and glisten again with joy ; and eevn our children will cease to think of us, and will not remember to lisp our names." CONSTANT EMPLOYMENT.— The man who is obliged to be constantly employed to earn the necessaries of life and support his family,knows not the unhappioess he prays for when lie de sires wealth and idleness. To be constantly busy is to be always happy. Persons who have suddenly acquired wealth, broken up their active pursuits, and begun to live at their ease, waste away, and die in a very short time. Thousands would have been blessings to the world, and added to the common stock of hap piness, if they had been content to remain in an humble sphere, and earned every mouthful of food that nourished their bodies. Persons who are always busy and go cheerfully to their daily tasks, arc the least disturbed by the fluc tuations of business, and at night sleep with perfect composure. #©-Avoid quotations, nnless you are well studied of their import, und feel their perti nence. My friend, , the other day, while looking at the skeleton of an ass, which had been dug out of a sand pit, and admiring and wondering at the structure of that despisod animal, made a very ma! adroit use of one.— " Ah !" said he, with the deepest humility, and a simplicity worthy of La Fontaine, "trs are fearfully and wondertully made." THE STRONG DRINK or THE ANClENTS.—Anti quarians assert that the strong drink of the Hebrews was fermented liquor, not a dis tillation, for the art of distilling was not known before the Christian Era. It was the same liquor which was used in Egypt before the Exodus, the art of making which the He ; brews learned fnun tlie Egyptians, who, accor ! ding to Diodones, of Sicily, ascribed it to Osiris, ' who was the Bacchus of that ancient people. I It bore the name of " Pelusinm," as it was first manufactured at Pelusinm, near the mouth of the river Nile. It was the wine (barley wine) which Joseph gave to his brethren on their i second visit to that country to buy corn, and lon which tlicv became merry with him As ' grapes did not fl air sh in Egypt, they had no j wine of that commodity there. I A VERY Porrvrn T. ENDORSEMENT.— The Cincinnati Gazette says, that a few days ago a business house in the city had occasion to write to a correspondent in one of the interior towns of Indiana, " What is the standing of Mr. ?" Indue rime the correspondent replied to the query as follows : " If yonr question refers to Mr. -*s real responsibility to any limited amount, we answer it is good ; but to say that he is obstinate and mulish, but faintly expresses his peculiarity of disposition when an account is presented Fie usually pays a debt at the extreme tail end of an execution, and then doles out the cash trf the constable as though he were driving a nail in his coffin. The money shaver who took tb latt scat in the last car of a railroad train, so as to have the use of his money while the con ductor was reaching hirj, was not a circum stance to the grim-death grasp with which Mr. holds on to his purse strings. ITe meant to be honest, but his neighbors say that a fivo cent piece produces a wr >1 strabismus that affects his vision quite painftrily The firm concluded to dose their account at "the tail end of an execution," and •'drum'' r.o more ir. that direefftm