OiE DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOWANDA:
Thursday Morning, January 19,1860.
Stlufcb soetrg.
MOONLIGHT PICTURES.
0. moonlight, making pictures bright
Upon my parlor wall—
Thou bringest to me a childish voice,
A gentle, timid call
Of one who, with her little fare
Pressed 'gainst the window pane,
Would call throughout the twilight.time,
" o,moonlight, come again
And make bright pictures on my wall ?"
And when the drooping trees,
Were parted by the moaning winds
That came up from the
And quivering bars of silver light
Were moving o'er the wall—
The shadows of the boughs without,
And even the blossogns fall—
■ She'd try to grasp those shining rays,
And, in that soft, bright light,
She looks as now—unseen she walks
With angels robei in white.
I almost see her upturned face,
Her large and wondering eyes,
A watching now the fleecy clouds
Go sailing up the skies,
J almost hear those childish words—
They sxithe my hearts deep pain-
As clouds go drifting o'er the moon,
" O, pictures, come again !
O, whispering winds and sob fang seas,
I listen—now she's dead ;
Her little voice filled all my heart,
I heard not what ye said.
O,moonbeams, rest upon the grave
Where my blue-eypd baby sleeps ;
But come not to the dreary walls
Wherein a mother weeps,
Stlttlei Salt.
HOP ~VHJ.LJ.A-.
I harl not seen Luke Swinton for thirty
years ; and so long ago, we were class mates
and sworn chums. In the interim, I had been
knocked about, the very shuttlecock of fortane,
until at last the capricious dame gave me the
.means of coming nome—that is, to England—
•with the prospect of ending my days there.
1 said I had not seen Luke Swiulou for thirty
years, and yet, when he and I accidentally
jostled each other "on Change," soon after
my arrival, there was enough of the old face
Jvft for me to recognize it.
" You are Luke Swiuton." said I, mid held
out my hand.
"And you are ." lie looked inquir
ingly, and his palm slowly extended, touched
miue with a doubtful clasp, till he filled up the
sentence :
'"James Aslilmrton."
No want of cordiality when those words
'fell on his ear. "To tliink I did not know
you," said he. "But thirty years make many
and yours had been a roving life, by
*ll accounts. You shall tell me everything by
and by."
I shook my head. " Mine would be too
Jong a story iu detail, but you may (ill it lip
from the outline. I went away poor ; I have
not returned rich, though euough to supply
a bachelor's wants."
" I am sorry you are a bachelor my dear
fellow," said my old mate, eyeing me compas
sionately. " But there is a bright side to
•everything, and you can go home with me to
•dinner without its being necessary to ask
permission ; moreover, you can give orders for
your baggage to be forwarded to Hop Villa,
my little place out of town, without Icar that
your other half will lodge a detainer. De
pond on it, I shall not very soon part with
you."
" And can you really give me such nn in
vitation without the cognizance of the lady
that owns you ? Oh, happy Benedict!" con
tinued I laughing, " tell me where I may find
such a partner, and I will forthwith join your
fraternity."
"Don't talk rashly, James, but rather make
; all the preparations you need for a long visit
and joiu me two hours hence.,'
lie named the place of meeting. Both
were punctual, aud we duly arrived at Hop
Villa.
I did not expect to see such a lovely domain
as that which called mv old friend master, aud
its extent so far exceeded my expectations as
did its beauty. "So this *is your home?" i
asked, my face expressing both surprise and
,pleasure.
" Yes, all is really mine these boundaries
.enclose. I see you wonder how it came to be
,so ; but I do uot like to begin a long story
before dinner, so be patient a little while lou-
We were near the house when we came up
.on the gardener, who was examining the
•withered remains of an old hop-vine.
"Is it quite dead, Scott," inquired my
friend.
" Quite, sir. Shall f remoye it ?"
" I suppose you must, but I feel sorry to
,give the order. Remember, you procure and
plant another in its place imrned : ately. I must
Uiot have Hop Villa without one vine."
" 1 have been wondering," said I, "what
induced you to give this charming place the
jiame it bears—if, iudeed, yoa acted as its
-sponsors."
" Ah.thereby hangs a—or rather the—tale,
but wait till after dinner."
I must say I felt very forlorn, in compari
son with my friend, wlien I saw the joyous
greeting he receded from a handsome matron
.and half a dueen boys and girls, varying from
■six io eighteen, fa spite vf his mo|t-in-gttb
jious expression of face, when he informed me
that these formed only a portion of his " rxj
sponsibilities," for one olive branch was at col
lege, and the youngest tendrils of his house
hold vine would come in with the desert, one
might see his home deserved the name. Jt
was pleasant to receive a sort of reflected edi
tion of all their cordiality, and I felt my heart
AKj\Af.&*J Vl/vK xxrvjVJA I \V,\ V-VvAAiAv mOTVA i. .. Vt S 4J '
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
warm in return, although I knew their welcome
was more for Luke's sake, uot from personal
friendship towards me.
" Scott is just grubbing out the old hop
vine, Nelley," said my friend to his wife.
This remark called forth quite a chorus of
regretful expressions, and made me ask for in
formation as to the cause of such universal
interest.
"Patience, James," said Swinton ; "and
dinner," said a servant at the same moment;
so I was fain to marshal my hostess to the
dinning-room, and endure uncomplaningly
several jocose remarks on the subject of "hops,"
which were evidently generally understood,
though I could not comprehend their rneau
ing.
Much as I admired my host's charming
family, I felt glad when he and I had the din
ing-room to ottrself, with the prospect df an
unrestrained chat.
"My wife was a very fa!l-in-love with able
person, seven-and-tvventy years ago," said Luke,
after the door had dosed upon that lady.
" You need riot tell me what she was old
fellow," I replied ; "she is charming still, and
I would soon let her know my opinion if she
were a widow."
" Thank you I have no wish to test your sin
cerity in the mode yon so feelingly hint at.
I>ut, take my word for it, in those by-gone
days Nelly would have been bad to match. I
was intended for the church as you are aware,
and went to college with that profession in
view ; but during my first vacation, I met
Nelly at a Christmas party, and she changed
everything."
" Lid Nelly object to parsons, then ?"
"No; but her father did. The old man
was very rich, and had amassed his wealth by
trade ; so he was determined to have a mer
chant, and no other for a son-in-law. Nelly
was dutiful —though she owned regard for me
—and would enter no engagement unsanc
tioned by tier father. So the end was,'hat I
never went back to Cambridge, but entered
the old merchant's office as a clerk."
" Very chivalous, I am sure ; but I pre
sume you wounld have resigned crowns as
well as a mitre—iu prospective—to win N-'l
lyr
''Say as you will, it requires some self Jc.
dial to give up such fair prospects as 1 hail,
and take to plodding and quill-driving, with
no very definite notice of uny reward. Old
Stanley—Nelly's father—would only say that
if through my own unaided efforts 1 should
win a good position in the mercantile world,
he would not refuse rne when 1 asked for his
daughter. In the meanwhile, I was allowed
free communication with my beloved, and we
were bi th young enough to wait a few years ;
for I was only twenty when we met first, and
she was twelve months younger."
" Fur three years I toiled like a galley lave
ia my new vocation. Old Stauley smiled ap
provingly, and advanced itie fairly enough ;
but still there was an awful hill to climb be
fore 1 should dare to say a word about claim
ing Nelly, or, indeed, before circumstances
would permit me to marry without pecuniary
aid from her fattier. My wholecapital amoun
ted to £3,000 ; it was a legacy from a maiden
aunt of mine ; and many times during tlie>e
three probationary years had been tempted to
speculate with it, in the hope of taking fortune
ly storm, as it were, instead of winning it bit
by bit."
" I cannot fancy you a speculator, Luke,"
said I, "though 1 always considered you a
particular wide-awake individual. Do you re
member your school nick name, All Eves."
"To be sure 1 do, and 1 deserved it. Still
as you say, lam not naturally speculative. I
make the most of things in a regular way of
business, but run no ueedless risk Above all,
I hold that lie who endangers a pound more
than he actually possesses, commits a breach
of the command. " Thou shalt not steal."
Vet 1 have socculated desperately ; and it is of
my own gambling transactions 1 am going to
speak. I had made such satisfactory progress
under old Stantley's tuition that at length he
proposed I should invest my little capital, and
become his partner to the amount above named.
Well do I remember leaving home on the
morning of the day on which he made this
proposition. As 1 passed though the gate
which led iuto the shrubbery—you recollect
the place, James, for you spent uiauy a jovial
day at our house w hen we were lads—l was
attracted by the beautiful appearance of a
hop-vine which twined lightly around a sapling
hard by. I hud watched its grow th, and now,
as its flowers trembled iu the soft wind, 1
paused to admire it, before 1 passed on my
way. Before I returned iu the evening 1 had
made arrangements to become a partner iu the
house of Stanley A Co., and my little capital
was, I may say, iu my hands, ready to rein
vest."
Any person would suppose that under
such circumstances, I should be too much ab
sorbed in meditation on my commercial pros
pects to notice small exteruul objects. But
such was not the case. As usual I was " all
eyes," and-when I reached the little shrubbery
gate, I noticed that the plant, which in the
morning looked so beautiful, was now sunken,
and appeared as though scorched and with
ered. Curious to know the cause, I went iav
mediately to the library, amf took down a
work which would, I thought, enlighten me.
Jn it I found a description of what is termed
the hop-blight', and, on comparing my own
experience with it, I could scarcely doubt that
my favorite plant bud beeu thus suddenly
struck with disease. Still 1 was oot quite sat
isfied ; so I consulted the gardener, who bap
peucd to be at work on the lawu. lie shook
his head when he saw the vine. "It is the
blight sure enough," said he. "Very few
hops .will tbure Ue this year. It comes this
and colors a great euteut of couutrr all
at ouce, just as though & liamehad passed over
it."
" Then yon think," said J, " the crop will
be spoiled J"
' >'ota bit of doubt of that, sir."
"That will doj tbauk you." I felt very
anxious to know what had spoiled my vine so
suddenly.
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
" REGARDLESS OP DENUNCIATION PROM ANY QUARTER."
" The man returned to his work, and I
never waiting for dinner harried back to town,
to purchase every packet of hops I could lay
my bauds on It was a desperate game, for I
risked every thing I possessed, but no more.
Hops were then particularly cheap, for the
prececding year had been one of remarkable
plenty, and a few hoars before I began to buy
there was as good ft prospect for the coming
season. Thanks to my being ' all eyes,' I was
first in the field. I made no confidant—l did
ndt even tell Nelly what I was doing. When
old Stanley alluded to the partnership, I
asked quietly permission to reconsider the
matter. His face told uie that he deemed me
a fool, for his offer was certainly a thing to
jump at, and he informed Nelly in my pres
ence, and with a perceptible sneer, that 1 was
considering whether a partnership with him
would or would not be advisable. The dear
girl herself seemead almost hurt about it; but
i whispered to her that she must trust me en
tirely and say no more. Nelly had wonderful
faith in ray infallibility then. It would have
been a great comfort to me to tell her all
about that venture of mine, for I grew quite
haggard with keeping it to myself. And how
I watched the solitary plaut 1 If I saw the
least signs of amendment in its appearance, I
trembled ; and the more the leaves dropped,
the more did my spirits rise. I was like a fel
low by the sick bed of one from which he ex
pects a rich legacy. You see I not only em
barked my cadi, but all my future prospects,
in this one venture. If I lost the money, I
knew I should be sure to lose Nelly also. The
successful speculator is fabled as a shrewd
man, and his fellows talk of his talent for bus
iness ; the unlu.ky one is stigmatised as a
gambler and a madman,"
"My anxiety did not last long. The cer
tainty of a failure in the crops of hops became
known, and there was an outcry in the market.
Nobody knew where all the hops were gor.e
to. The brewers, calculating on diminished
prices, had but few iu hand, when the blight
came, and now they eagerly sought to increase
their stock You will guess how I held back,
and then sent in my precious commodity in
small quantities, and how my capital quadru
pled itself by the transaction,"
i " I see it all now," I interrupted ; " yon —"
"Stop, and let me finish Don't be rude
and spoil my story ; it is nearly done. When
, I had parted with my last parcel of hops, and
found myself the possessor of twelve instead
<>f three thousand pounds, I marched boldly
into old Stanley's office."
"I want to speak to yon about the partner
ship you were good enough to propose."
sat 1 I.
"So you think of trusting your fortune in
the concern ?"
"Not exactly the amount first proposed.''
" I quite enjoyed the misunderstanding, for
I saw lie thought 1 only wished to venture a
part of my cash, since he told me I had bet
ter retain the whole, as he should object to
having anything to do with a very trifling
matter."
" Yon are under a mistake, Mr. Stanley,"
I answered. " I wish to add a larger, not a
smaller amount to the capital of the firm. 1
have nine thousand pounds, the result of my
first mercantile venture, to add to the three
I possessed a short time back ; and then I
told lain all. I wish you could have seen the
old fellow's face. It was not the money he
cared for, after all, but of the fact of having
proved himself wide awake. He said —aud
lie could not imagine a great compliment—
Swinton you deserve to be my son-in-law."
"I went home with liirn that day, and after
dinner, when Nelly—she had no mother—was
going to withdraw, he said :
"Take Swinton with you and fix the wed
ding day."
" And so she did like a dpar, dutiful daught
er, as she always was. Old Stanley behaved
handsomely. This pretty home of ours was
his wedding present, and cost more than all
my fortune. I need not say now why it is
called llop Villa, and when I tell you that
the old vine we lamented the death of, to-day
is a veritable scion of the one which laid the
foundation of my happiness, you will not won
der at our regret at loosing it."
"Just one question more before we join the
ladies, Swinton. Was this your only gambling
transaction ?"
" Really and truly yes. Remember I ran
the risk of loosing my money to win a home
and a bride; and, having gained these, I
would endanger them for money ouly, think
yon ?"
" True, you need not enlarge upon it. Now
let us go to the mistress of llop Villa."—
Chamber's Journal.
A MEDICAL OPINION. —We need for our
dwellings more ventilation aud less heat ; we
ueed more out door exercise, more sunlight,
more manly, athletic and rude sports ; we
need more amusements, more holidays, more
frolic, aud noisy, boisterous mirth. Our in
fants need better nourishment tlmn colorless
mothers can ever furnish, purer milk than dis
tileiiescau manufacture; our children need
more romping and less study. Our old men
need more quiet and earlier relaxation from
the labors of life. AH men, both young and
old, need less medicine and more good counsel.
Our cities need cleansing, paving aud draining.
The Asiatic cholera, the yellow fever, the
plague, and many other fearful epidemics are
called the opprobria of our art, and fellow-cit
izens npbraid us with the feebleness and in
efficiency of our resources in staying their fa
tal progress. When will they learn that al
though we do not fail to cure these maladies,
the more precious secret of prevention is in
our possession and has dbeen for these many
years f — Dr. Hamilton.
Gcwocs.—A little plant'is found upon the
prarie of Texas, called the "compass flower,"
whicfe, coder all circumstances of climate,
changes of weather, rain, frost or sunshine, in
variably turns its leaf and flower toward the
north, thus affording an unerring guide to the
traveler, who, unaided by the needle, seeks to
explore those vast plains alow.
Facts about the Body.
There are about two hundred bones in the
human body, exclusive of the teeth. These
bones are composed of animal and eartlily
materials, the former predominating in youth
and the latter in old age, rendering the bones
brittle. The most important of these bones
is the spine ,which is composed of twenty four
small bones, called the vertebrae, one ou top
of the other, curiously hooked together and
fastened by elastic ligaments, forming a pillar
by which the human body is supported.
The bones arc moved by the muscles, of
which there are more than 500. The red
meat or beef, the fat being excluded, is the
muscular fabric of the ox. There ure two
sets of muscles, one to draw the bones one
way, and another to draw them back again
We cannot better describe the muscles than
comparing tbem to fine elastic thread bound
up in their cases of skin. Many muscles ter
minate in tendons, which' are stout cords, such
as may be seeu traversing the back of the
hand, just without the skin, and which cau be
observed to move when the hand is open or
shut. Every motion we make, even the in
voluntary one of breathing, is performed
through the agency of muscles.
In adults there are fifteen quarts of blood,
each weighing about two pounds. This blood
is of two kinds, arterial and venous. The
first is the pure blood, as it 'eaves the heart
to nourish the frame, and is of a bright Ver
million color. The last is the blood as it runs
to the heart loaded with the impurities of the
body, to be there refined, and is of q purple
hue. Every pulsation of the heart sends out
two ouuues of arterial blood, and as there are
70 to 80 beats iu a minute, a hogshead of
blood passes through the heart every hour.—
Iu fevers the pulsations are accelerated and
consequently death eusues if the fever is not
checked.
The stomach is a boiler, if we may use such
a figure, which drives the human engine. Two
sets of muscles, crossing each other, turn the
food over and over, churning it up iu the gas
trie juice till it has been reduced to the consis
tency of thin paste, 'i'liis process requires
from two to four hours.
Emerging from tLie stomach the food enters
the small intestines, where it is mixed with
the bile, and pancreatic juice, and converted
into chyle, These small iutestiucs are twenty
four feet long, closely packed of course, and
surrounded through their whole length with
stuail tubes which are like sockets, and draw
ing off the chyle, empty into a large tube
named the thoraic duct, which runs up the
back and discharges the contents into the jug
ular vein, whence it passes to the heart to as
siit in forming the arterial blood.
i'iie lungs are two bags connected with the
open air by the windpipe, which branches into
innumerable small tubes, all over the inside of
the lungs, ach terminati ig in a minute air
cell. The outer surface of these air cells is
full of small capillaries, infinitely small veins,
a thin membrane only dividing the air from the
blood.
The impure portion of venous blood is car
bonic acid, which, having a stronger affinity
for air than for blood, passes through this
membrane to a gaseous state, combines with
the air in the air cells, and is expelled with
the next respiration. Meanwhile the oxygen
ol the air unites with the blood, and becomes
purified ; then passing into the heart, being
mixed with chyle, it is forced through the body
as lite-giving aud arterial blood.
The skin serves an important purpose in
carrying off impurities of the system. It is
traversed with capillaries of the body. It is
also perforated with coutless perspiration tubes,
the united length of which amounts to twenty
eight miles, and which drains away from three
to four pounds of waste matter every twenty
four hours or live-eighths of all the body dis
charges.
The nerves are another curious feature of
the animal economy. They are, however, but
little understood. They act as feelers to tell
the wants of the body, and also as conductors
to will the muscles to act. They branch out
from the brain and spine over the whole frame
in infinitely flue fibres, like branches or twigs
to trees.
Fox Lox—There is often a good deal of
wisdom in the old nursery tales—but it is sur
prisiug how easily we forget as we grow up
the leasons they inculcate.
A correspondent lias sent us one of these,
which we lay before our readers as applicable
iu a peculiar manner to the present time.—
Some of our readers will probably cut it out of
columns for the amusement of their children ;
others will preserve it for the instruction of
riper years. The crafty Fox who played upon
the fears of the poultry, and by that means
decoyed them into his den, is a type of what
is attempted to be done at this moment under
our own eyes.
Once upon a time Chicken-Little strayed j
into n gentleman's garden, where she . had no
business to be, While she was scratching un
der a rose-bush a rose-leaf fall on her tail,which
frightened her so much that she ran with all
her might to Hen-Pen. " Oh, Hen Pen." said
she. "the sky is falling." "Why, Chicken-
Little," said Hen-Pen, "how do you know it?"
" Oh," said Chicken Little, " I >aw it with my
eyes, I heard it with my ears, and a piece of
it fell on my tail 1" " You don't say so !" said
Hen-Pen, "let's run 1" So away thev ran to
Duck-Lnek. "Oh, Dock-Luck," says Hen Pen
" the sky is falling !" " Why, Hen-Pen," says
Duck-Luck, " how do you knowjit ?" "Chicken-
Little told me !" " Chicken-Little, how do
you know it ?" "Oh, I saw it with my eyes,
I heard it with my ears, and a piece of it fell
on uiy tail 1" "Oh ! let's run as fast as we
can 1" says Duck-Luck. So away they ran
till tijey came to Goose-Loose. " Oh, Goose-
Loose J" said Duck-Lnek, " the sky is fulling!"
"Why, Duck," says Goose Loose, "who told
you so ?" " Hen-Pen told me!" " Hen-Pen,
who told you ?" " Chieken-Little told me!"
" Cbickeu-Little who told yon V " Oh, I saw
it with my eyes, I heard it with my ears, and
a piece of it fell oa my tail!" "Ob, come,
let's run'."says Goose-Loose. So away they
ran til! they came to Turkey-Lurkey. " Oh,
Turkey Lurkcy," said Goose-Loose, " the sky
is falling !" "Why Goose Loose jou don't say
so !"says Turkey Lurkey. " Who told you?"
" Puck-Luck told me f" " Why, Duck Luck
who told you !" " Hen-Pen told me." " Hen-
Pen, who told yon !" " Chicken-Little, told
me !" "Chicken-Little, who told you ?" "Ob,
I saw it with my eyes, I heard it with my ears
and a part of it fell on my tail !" " Oh, come,"
says Turkey-Lurkey, " let's be off, as fast as
we can go!" So they ran on till they come to
Fox-Lox- "Oh, Fox-Lox," says Turkey-Lur
key, " the sky is falling !" " Why, Turkey-
Lurkey," says Fox-Lox, "is it possible ! Who
told you so?" " Goose Loose told me!"—
" Goose Loose, who told you ?" " Puck Luck
told me !" " Duck-Luck, who told you ?"
" Ilen-Pen told me !" " Hen Pen, who told
you ?" " Chicken Little told mo !" " f'hicken-
Lit'.le, who told you?" " Oh, I saw it with
mv eyes, I heard it with my ears, and a piece
af it fell on my tail !*' " Oh, dreadful," says
Fox-Lox, " Come all of you into my den as
quick as you can !" So he ran in first, and as
Turkey-Lurkey followed him in he turjied
round, seized by the neck, bit off his head,and
threw his head on cue side of the door and his
body on the other. Nest came Goose-Loose,
and Fox Lux bit off his head, threw it on one
side, and his body on the other. Then came
Dack-Lqck. Fox Lox treated him the same
way. Then came in Hen Pen. Fox Lox treat
ed her the same way too ! Last of all came
Chicken Little Fox-Lox snapped at her and
gobbled her up at one mouthful. So that was
the end of them. And all this came from noth
ing but the foolish fright of Chicken-Little !
MINISTERING ANGELS. — I The beautiful have
gone, with their bloom, from the gaze of hu
man eyes. Soft eyes that made it spring time
in our hearts are seeu no more. We have
loved the light of many a snjilethat has faded
from us now, and iu our hearts have lingered
sweet singing voices, that now are hashed iu
the silence of death.
Scats are left vacant in our earthly homes,
which none again can fill. Kindred and friends,
loved ones, have passed away, one by one.—
Our hearts are left desolate. We are lonely
without them.
They have passed, with their love, away to
the land from whence they can never return.
Shall we never see them again ! Memory
turns with lingering regret to recall their smile,
ami the loved tones of their dear familiar
voices. In fancy they are often by oar side,
but their home is on a brighter shore. They
visit ns in dreams, II > ifing over our memory
bke shadows over the streams of moon-lit wa
tcr.s.
\\ hen the heart is wrung with anguiah, a id
the weary-oil is bowed with grief, do they
not come and whi-per thoughts of couifort and
hope? Yes ! sweet memory brings them to
n-', and the love we bear them lifts the heart
from earthly aspirations, and wo long to see
them in that bettir land.
They hover around us, the ethereal, dear
departed ones, the loving and the loved, they
watch with eyes that slumber not. When
gentle dreenaS are wandering to the angel land,
in whispers wakes the hymning sweet of that
bright, happy choir, revealing many a tale of
hope, and bliss, and teuderuess.au 1 love They |
tell of sunny realms ne'er viewed by mortal
eye, of forms arrayed in fadeless beauty, and
sound for lofty anthems to their great Crea
tor's praise in sweet seraphic numbers. And
this bright vision of the blest dissolves the tu
mult of 1 fe's jarring scenes ; they lade in air,
and then we glory in the thought that we are
heirs of iminor!ality.
And why is it that we regard with such
deep reverence and love, those bright celestial
beings of another sphere ? Ah !it is because
they take an interest iu our welfare, aw 1 joy
over our success iu the great battle of life ;
they are not purely selti-h iu their happiness,
but faiu would have us share it with them.
An Irishman was going along the '
road, when an angry bull rushed down upon
him, and, with his horns tossed iim over a
fence. The Irishman, recovering from his
fall, upon seeing the animal pawing and tear
ing up the ground, as is the custom of the
animal when irritated whereupon Pat, smil
ing at him, said, " If it was not for your blow
ing and scraping, and your humble apologies,
you brute, faix 1 should think you had thrown
me over this fence on purpose !"'
Goon ADVICE. —If the poorhouse has any
terror for you, never buy what you don't need.
Before you pay three centsfor a jewsharpsee if
you can't make just as pleasant a noise by
whistling, for such nature furuishes the machi
nery And before you pay seven dollars for
a figured vest, young man, find out whether
your lady love would not be just as glad to sec
rou in a plain one that cost half the money.—
If she wouldn't let her crack her owu walnuts
and buy her own clothes.
Boys and girls here is a word for you
get out of bed ewly in the morning—sing
dance and jump tiil your eyes are fairly open,
do up your chores and morning work with a
will, and tbeu HIE off to school with a light
heart and clear head, and you will be happy
all day. The active boy m ikes the active
mail, nod the slow, moping, listless, lazy man
was onee the boy who grumbled when ho had
a lesson to learn. Wake up then, aud off to
school.
A gentleman thought he'd like some
thing painted in the hall of a new house, and
chose the Israelites passing over the Red Sea
He engaged an Irishman for the job, who
went to work aud painted the ball red. Gen
tleman enters :
" Kiee colors, H., but where are the Israe
lites t"
" Oh, they've passed over."
S&r Why ia the Mediteranean the dirtiest
l of teas ? Bectase it is the least tide-y.
VOX,. XX. —NO. 33.
From Japan
The following extract from a letter publish
ed in the London Illustrated News, relates to
matters of domestic economy in Japan, not
usually mentioned by corespondents :
The fruit season is over. Apricots.peaches,
nectarines, pears, apples and loqnats, are the
luxuries we are plentifully supplied with ; but
when I tell you that the Japanese have a par
tality for unripe fruit, you can imagine how
few we eat, since all are a3 hard as ballets,
and for love or money wc could not purchase
a ripe specimen of an? of them. We stew
them, and thus manage to have a treat. This
season is—no wonder—a deadly one to the
natives- Unripe fruit is not eaten with im
punity : so the cholera comes in to claim its
victims. Dating the last two months as many
as twenty persons per/liem Lava died at this
place.
The scenery of Japan is perfection ; moun
tains. valley-, lakes, ri'.ers, and all the requi
sites for variety in beauty ; forests, terraced
hills, with unceasing vegetation—in fact, all
that the artist seeks, is to be met with in alb
loveliness ; but there the fasination of a Jap
anese exile ends. This is the bright side of
our picturp ; but have we not beautiful spots
at home ? So for scenery, the tourist will not
come so fur as Japan ; and he will regret it if
he does.
The Japanese are ruled by two Emperors
-one to govern their eternal welfare, a second
to look after tlteir temporal beatitude. Ho
has princes to rule the provinces, who pay him
horn ge yearly, and appoints governors when
they are deemed necessary. These princes or
governors are all watched and spied upon by
other appointed officers, and if they do wrong
they are reported at Jeddo. The consequence
is self-murder, or disappearance. All ranks
are under the authority of these great men,
aud they, in thoir tnrn, have to pay homage—
generally in a pecuniary manner —i. e., they
give of their salaries, gains, or incomes, a very
decent slice to win the great man's protection.
Thus their coffers are well filled.
The priests, having done their duty to their
secular lords, take care to look out for theur
selves—Juicing by appearances, the succeed,
for they are fat and jolly ; they have daily ser
vices—at daybreak, at noon, and vespers—tho
ladies seem more devout than do they men
The faithful throw some coins on the mattings
which the priest's wife, scrupulously no at,nicka
UT> and rockets.
The princes arc an important class, act as
Government newspapers to spread the Emper
ors' orders over the land. They have excellent
lungs, and are rarely troubled with bronchitis.
They like champagne and all good things.—
Their religion (Buddhism) is in form still
strikingly resembling the one they banished
two centuries ago. American and Roman
Catholic missionaries are here already.
DROWNING THE SQUIREEE. —When I was
about six years old, one morning, going to
school, a ground squ rrjl ran into h s hole in
the ground before me, as they like to dig holes
in some open place, where they cau put out
their head to see if ar.y danger is uear. 1
tbonght, now I will have fine fun. As there
was a stream of water just at hand, I deter
mined to pour water iuto the hole until it
would be full, and force the little animal up,
so that I might kill it. I got a trough besidu
a sugar maple, used for catching sap, and was
soon pouring the water it on the squirrel. I
could hear it struggle to get up, and said,
" Ah, my fellow, 1 will soon have you out
cow."
Just then I heard a voice behind me "Well,
my boy, what have you got there ?" I turn
ed, and saw one of my neighbors, a good old
uiuu with long white locks, that had seen six
ty winters. " Why," said I, " I have a ground
squirrel in here, and I am going to drown him
out."
• Said lie, " Jonathan, when I was a little boy
more than fifty years ago, I was engaged one
day just as you are, drowning a ground squir
rel, and an old man eaoie along and said to
me, " You are a little boy ; now if yon was
down in a narrow hole like that, and I should
come and pour water down upon you to drown
you, would you not think I was cruel ? God
ma le the little squirrel, and life is as sweet to
it as you, and why will you torture to death it
little Leiwcent creature that God has made ''
I Said ka, " I have never forgotten that, and
never shall. I never have killed any harmless
creature fir fun since. Now, my dear boy, I
want you to remember this while you live, and
when tempted to kill any poor little inmveut
animal or bird, think of this, and mind God
i don't allow us to kill his pretty little creatures
j for fun."
I More than forty years have since passed, and
i I never forgot what the good, rn.au. said, nor
have I ever killed the least animal' for fun
since that advice was first given, and it
not lost its influence yet. How fnany little
1 creatures it lias saved from being tarturod to
death I cannot tell, but I have doubt a
great unmber ; and I believe my wlnple life
| has been influenced by it."
# ———— ——
I do not think madam that any man
of the least sense would approve your con-
I duct," said an indignant husband. " Sir," re
torted his better half, " how ean yoa judgo
what any man of the least seuse would do."
—
A loafer happened in one of the print
ing offices at Idostou, a day or two ago, and
asked " what's the news ?"
"Two dollars a year in advance," was the
reply, lie subseribed-
KSy A traveler says that if he were asked
to describe the first sensations of a camel-ride,
he would say : " Take a music stool, and hav
ing wound it up as high as it would go, put it
in a cart without springs, get oa top, and next
drive the cart transversely across a ploughed
field, and you will then form some notio"; of
, the terror aud uncertainty you would exuori
enee the first tiice wou gjouuted a cam;-]."