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* an<l l"* e unutterable
Are .badowed in ber eye*.
A* jc autne deep udruffled utream
Are rlucJi and Summer ekien.
, trsed through early womanhood,
(• - m dreamy, tweet girl life,
u ,. - wd the ro*y threshold, but
To bud herxlf a wife ;
Ob gentle should he lead her step*
Ai jtig the path of life !
A .J * 'be cla*p* her small white hands
I'p tn bia arm* o strong,
His often, like a Summer sigh,
i>r 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