OiE DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOWANDA : Thursday Morning, December 13, 1860. ROCK ME TO SLEEP. There i a a sentiment in the following lines which will find an echo in every breast against which the storms of life have beaten. Many a man, scarred in the warfare of life, will fed his eyes moisten in recalling the potency of s mother's love : Backward, turn backward, oh. Time in your flight. Slake me a child agaiu. just for to night 1 Slother come back from the eeholess shore, Take me again to your heart as of" yore— Kiss frm my forehead thv furrows of care. Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair. O'er my slumbers your loving watch keep- Rock me to sleep, mother—rock me to sleep 1 Backward, flow backward, oh, tide of the years ! I am so weary of toil and of tears— Tod without recompen-e—tears all in va n Take them and give me my childhood again ! I luve grown weary of dust and decay, Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away— Of sowing for others to reap Ruck me to sleep, mother— rock me to sleep ! Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue, Mother, oh mother my heart calls for you ! Many a summer the grass has grown green, Blossomed and faded—our fact , between— Vet with strong yearning and passionate pain. Long I to-night tor your presence again ; Come from the silence so long and so deep- Rock me to sleep, mother —roc.. me to sleep . Over rov heart in the days that are llowu No love like m .tV.r-l -ve ever has shown— No other worship abides and endures, Faithful, uuseia-.il anJ patient like yours— None like a mother can charm away pain, From tile sick sou. and woi id weary brain ; Slumber's soft culm o'er my heavy lids creep— Rock me to sleep, mother—rock me to sleep ! Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold, Fall on my shoulder again as of old— Let it cross over my forehead to night, Shading my .'unit eyes away trom the light. For with its sunny edge shadows once more. Haply will linger the visions of yore. Lovingly, so fly, its bright billows sweep- Ruck me to sleep, mother —iocs tne to sleep . Mother, dear m .thcr . the years uave bcou long Since I last listened to your lu. abv song, Sing then, and auto my soul it snail seem Womanhood s teat's have beeu ou.y a urcatn , Clasped tu your heart in I v iug embrace, With y our light lashes kist sweeping my face ; Never hereafter to wlke or to weep. Rock nte to sle.-p,—tu her —ro.u me to sh op ! Hlisttllsntou 5. [From the Chicago J .u;....! ] Who Lives There ? and V. r ho Yonder ? WHOEVER has traveled over an unaccustom ed region can remember a curiosity that i>"-ses i vd iiun to known the story of the dwellet -> lit re I i itliei'i'. And he can remember, too, that f ss in whom lie felt the most interest, were Cot the occupants of the Lest houses lue bold itar.ng, square building:, window pierced and "'iservatory crowned, tliul stood up stiff and stark hv the roadside,did not shape an "? " for him, though its matt-rial was hewn stone or fine marble. lie cared nothing about those ho went and came over its thresholds Bat sometimes a cottage of a Itotne, twinkling through the clu-teriug vines and green tree-, a hit of low browed New England "stoop'' before the door, a well sweep d> lined against the >ky übove the humble roof-i idge, marking the spot with an accurate accent, will linger in the memory with an exclamation point stand ing sentry, long after the little picture has faded from (he s'gl.f. And if one thinks about it, lie will discover that it is not the new dwellings that please him mo>t ; that of the two, the old house with its i: ssy roof and chinked gray walls, w iudowle-s v \ squirrel haunted, standing like an empty - is amid the clustering cheery trees, and kif ,I'ter dwelling stepped bravely out in front 1 very grand in paints and proportions, be •' e old te st best. Something human at ■> to the f.g cabin that do. s not belong to : -v 'den castle ; we like to fancy when will .' .I . Is strolled tu> its walls ; when pine and -ier made a censer of the swallow-lnidt ' mti.'V, and loaded the air with perfume; v'> the bit of dimity t' a once adorned the -'t.t and delight of the house, curtained the • "lie window so neatly ; the window that, I'eneii hy the evening fire, shone like a S'i'i face, with snow-white hair parted evenly a -i flawing down each s : de. \\ e l.ke to sain J r>d twilight and hear them tell what they *iit do in the golden by and by; talking ciieer ". T ll f the better days,while the father smoothes aa ax helve with which he means to do battle, a;i( * die mother turns lite potatoes handily out Jffl the r sung bed under the forestick, and l,r usiies [!..■ r dusty jackets with a wing. The '•••' : e lif.j—the big bed's brood of one—lias cotureii p lir t Wil y out f rom p s c'uily hidiug, i!| d a little breathing handle ti|on it as near T ' ;iVen -is children ever get without dying.— Ile 'sys are busy mading a "figure four" in ' r -r : the clock that winds with a string -vsoff the minutes of that "day of small ; ' :il -sthe cricket claps i:s glos-y hands in B, "'t'l crevice in the hearth for joy; plenty hangs in flitches along the roomy •ihs • the red light glitters on a rifle at rest " J ii its wooden hooks over the fireplace ; and ' i-iiioned tin lantern made to pepper darkness with candle-light ; and pewter • w '" te plates careened upon a d.s -• -he'f brighten up now and then like so eyes in astoui.-hment ; the so g of the ' e swung |rom the top-most hook,"fills = itnce like a speech." Envy has not rank y- • K'sse>Nion lias not cloyed, t ride has not • '.eel ; they have been joyful since, but as sonic say, joy is an uncertain guest, "n tip-toe and ready to be going Joy Castle, but peace was iu the hovel ; ce taut fk,*,d like a river; peaee, that had . w °rds ; pence that abides always. thJ i* l ' e . huU ai d cabins nud gray old houses d J , een l' v cd in long, lhat have been , Oiten, aud where childreu were horu Jj g ago o have "children's children rise up and call them blessed," that have stories to tell as prove, more conclusively than the learn ed talk of Naturalists, that Eve was the oiolh . , er ot us nil. The R, tiltoad is a great assimilator : it shakes people up together in a dice box, and ! trituration frees th< in from many of their pecu f liarities. But not from all. That man over r there, who has built his home iu*t in the rear f of his barnyard—about whose door, like armored bearings, are logs couehant and hogs rampant —who was surrounded himself with a cornfield, and left his harrow turned tip in the fence corner, all its teeth di-pluyed like a hungry shark's, advertises himself from "down on the Wabash," quite is plainly as if lie had borne a maker's mark on his forehead thus ; "Iloosier" You will find the bones of the old " prairie schooner" he cauie in, ' woman," babies, and all if you look, while the yellow eurelipped us to his ears and tail, that walked between the hind wheels and just beneath the manger slung up astern like a ship's boat, has had, like other dogs " his day," and sleeps there in the Indian Summer sua this minute, a tattered yellow rug. The man living yonder, who has made a museum of his barn-yard : three wagons with nine wheels among them ; ploughshares and no handles ; plough handles and no share ; lanky ; colts with no mothers; calves untimely orphan ed ; odds and ends of old fanning mills and threshing machines; pieces of all sorts of chains and harnesses, is a line specimen of u shift ing, shiftless, dickering" Yankee. Over there is his brother but his better ; neat, New Euglandish ; rows of tin pans shin ing in the sun, pleasanter to iook at than the shield of Achilles besides the milk house by the spring ; old-fashioned vines trailed up over door and window—withered now, but | showing the route they went when "spring caine slowly up this way ;" —a giimp.se of a cheese press scoured v. bite as the steed (?; " the beautiful maiden I'riscilla" rode home on from Iter wedding, seen through the open doors; festoous of apples ; festoons of blue j yarn adorning the chambers; necklaces of pumpkins swung "from pillar to post;" turkeys 1 suggestive of Thauksgiving and good cheer Whi.-k him ever so swiftly, he does not forget i to bring his days with him; Forefathers' Day j ami Thank-giving, Christmas and New Years; I i nor seeds from the choice apple trees under i tl.tj bill, tiiat swayed their leafy heads over the 1 ! -tone wall, laden with red, and golden, green russets, temptations for young wayfaring j Yankees en route for school, i And for his good wife, she did not forget the " sampler " tile girls wrought, nor the i : " ri-ing stni " bed-quiit with a piece of every- ; i body 's dress in it, :ior the home-made iiueu.iior j the home-made heart and ways, for that mat- ' t.-r. Nor, if she tie very old-fashioned,did >he forget the wheels, little and teg, nor the reel with a tick to it,nor the swift—we never wrote that word before ; >lie called tiiem " swifts," ' von know—nor tlie loom her mother had, or • Jit r grandmother, out of which came the trea- I ' >ures of the " chest of drawers;"' it was as tag j i and as homely a a barn, but -lie brought it, \ 1 and set it up in tiie place over the wood house ! and looked lovingly upon it. Over yonder iiv.s a man not quite so neat mi] pains taking, but a iittle more da.-lty ; the whitest of white houses, the greenest of green i blinds ; lie white wa-h*s his fences, his trees, • his p.gs ; lie does not draw his words as if he ; was making clock peiidiilms but is bri-k, short i and cheerful ; not troubled with catechisms, (nought the Fourth of July with him, and .-wears—figuratively speaking—by the tstute of New A urk. As for his wife, she has a lov- j ing memory dud dearly de iglits to talk about " York tjlute," and the good things site left ; -he lias a patch of dill in tiie corner, and of i carraway, to carry her back to '.lie good old times when in dre-s of glossiest siik.well saved and a snowy handkerchief not slut ken out from the smooth folds of tne ironing—whata savage word " inuugiiiig "is for such a bu-i es.-! and a sprig of the aromatic caritiinalive, she went for!lt with a song in her mouth,to church on tho.-eold Sundays when she was younger. Just here is a house, a red lions.- ; red be hind and before; red to the top of the chimney Squatted beside it, is an out-of-door oven, shaped like a well to-day gray cat just from a nap on an ash-heap An acre of cabbages—tiie j only sigiit, by the way, that reconciles us to ! figure of "a sea of heads," —11 inks the cat; a pair of square bellt clumsy hor-es in breast harness and bear skin liuuics, are standing by the door,and ail proclaim the .Mohawk Dutch man strayed aw ay to the banks of the 'Cedar.' But the Railway car is a divining rod to find new and fresher homes for them all, and its touch is just now ihe " touch of nature" j that " makes the whole world kin " • A SABBATH SCHOOL INCIDENT.—At a meet ing in the Exeter Hall, London, where there was a vast number of Sabbath Schoolchildren | assembled, a clergyman arose on the platform and told them of two bad little boys whom he had once known,and of a good liitie girl whom he afterwards learned to knew. This little girl had been to Sabbath Sclrool, where she had learned "to do good every day." Seeing two litt'e boys quarreling,she went up to them l told them how wickedly they were acting,made j them desist from quarreling, and in the e.d told them to attend Sunday School. These : boys were Jim and Tout. " Now Children," i said thegentleman, 'would yon like to see Jim':' All shouted out with one voice," Yes Yes !' " Jim, get up!" said the geutleman, looking over to another part of the stage. A rever- | end looking missionary arose and looked stnil- j ingly upon the children " Now would you liijie to see Tom?" " Yes ! Yes !" resounded through all the j house. " Well, look at me—l am Tom, and I too have been a missionary for m ot? years. Now, I would you like to see little Marry Worn! ' Tf e respose was eveu more loud aud earnest i ! than before, " Y'es !" i ! Well.do you see that lady over there in the i j biue silk bonnet ?—that is little Mary Wood, • and she is my wife !" PUBLISHED EVE BY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY R. TV. STURROCK. > i A Picture of Life. . I " Charles come here." Slow ly the boy "approaches his mother, when the latter gives him a smart box at his ears, adding ; "There, take that ; and now go to _ 1 work." " Why, mother, what have I done?" " Done, you have not done anything, only , | set poring over that old paper for an hour." . " But, mother, the chores are doue, and it t I is storming." " Co under the shed, then, and saw wood." | And lie went, the boy of fourteen, dwarfed 1 alike in body and mind, the former by hard : labor on the farm, the latter by hard words , and " hard knocks" Poor boy ! and this was the nephew that I had so longed to see, for I ■ i remembered him as a sprightly boy of three | years, all life and animation ; and this was 1 the sister that I had come so fur to visit, and this was my first observation day in tiie family circle, for sickness had hitherto confined me to my room, where all had beeu smiles and kind attention. My si-ter was some years older than myself, but being only sisters, we were much together, and had few if any se crets tipit we concealed from each other, and for awhile after we ma.ried, the one going to ward the rising, the other the setting sun, we had kept up a iegular correspondence, but the cures of a growing family and poor health -oon checked the letters and at last they ceas ed entirely. Once she had visited her "old home" and friends, and brought Charlie her first born with her, a bright lad of three -innmers. Eleven year- hud passed when I decided to make her a visit and see how she prospered in the far west. Success had crown ed their labors, and to the casual observer, nothing was wanting to make life agreeable. Ihree lovely girls wandered from to room. The oldest threw down her book, which instead of reaching the tubie as she had designed, tell to tiie floor. Instead of saying, " Pick it up iny daughter," the mother gave her a quick slap on t lie head which sent her reeling ; and picked it up herself. Quiet was scarcely re -tored ere another offender, for some light cause, received a box and an angry word, aud thus the afternoon was spent 1 was in hopes j that such scenes were not common, and wait I ed impalieuliy for the evening, but alas ! it came all too soon, for as much as my feelings i had been tried through the dav, they were wor.-e tried iu the evening. The candle was placed on the stand in the centre of the room ; the father, tired with his day's work in the • woods, had leaned his c! air against tiie wall and was already snoring; the mother with ht-r youngest in her lap, rocking by the fire ; I with my fect on the fender and nobody by l the light, Chari.e hunted up his paper (which ; had been tucked uwav) and timidly drew up !1 had sought their pillow save my s'ster and myself; an unpleas ant silence prevailed O e room ; I was think ; ing how to begin ; I knew that my sister's h.-urt WHS in the right place if I could reach it ; siie ii-ked tne what 1 was thinking about ; I told her I was thinking of our mother ; I a-ked her il site temembered how tenderly aud lovingly she reared her family—how sue syna | palh'Zed with all our little imaginary wrongs and troubles—how .-IK* taught us lo'prav and ; slug, us' well as read and work ; iiow pleasant ly we spent our evenings, when mother would tell us some pleasant story, or brother Charlie would read the newspapers? It WJI- enough, already she was weeping on my bosom ; no promise was asked or given, but I heard her go softly to iter boy's room, and as she returned I heard her murmur, " (iod blevs him," and i knew the good work ; was begun. It was some time before all the i lit tie outbreaks w ere dispensed with, but a look was sufficient to still the tempest, and ere spring, the time for my departure had arrived, a loveiier and pleasanter family could not be found. Charles accompanied me home to Cn i-ii it's education, and he promises still to ful fil the hope of early years. "WHY, you rascal," said Radciiffe, the great physician, to a paviour, who dunned him "'do j'ou pretend to be paid for such a piece of work ? Why, von have spoiled niy pave | inent, and then covere I it over with earth to iiide your bad work." " Doctor," said the pa viour, "mine is not the only bad work the earth hides." "You dog, you,"said Radciiffe " you are a wit. You must be poor ; come iu, and you shall be paid." — MANY a true heart that would have come back like a dove to the ark, after its first transgression, has been frightened beyond re i call by the savage cruelty of au unforgiving ; spirit. JONES" RELIEF.—One Jones, who had been sent to prison tor marrying two wives, excused himself by saying that when he had one she I fought liin), but when he got two, they fought with each other. SHARP —A Scotchman a-ked an Irishman why were half farthings coined in England. The answer was, "To give Scotchmen au op portunity to sQbscribe to charitable institu tions I" " REISARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." Sensations on Taking Chloroform A correspondent of the San Francisco Mir- I ror gives the following vivid description of the sensations he felt while under the intoxication > of chloroform, in which he had beeu placed for the purpose of haviug a silver of irou ex tracted from his eye : 1 "My last sane recollection is of the surgeon applying the handkerchief to my mouth ; then t the room began to magnify to gigantic propor tions ; a common lamp was transformed to a ' candelabrum, more luminous and costly than i ever lighted the grandest eatiiedral of the 1 world. The surgeon became a giant of pro - digious proportions, holding a huge, gleaming - | knife, with a single blow of which be might [ ! have severed me. The sound of voices in the ■ j room seemed like the clnmorings of a vast mul i | titude during the burning of ft city, and a sign ! ! board, screeching outside, conveyed the idea • j of a furious mob collected in the street for •I my execution. On entering the rooms I had I j noticed a large cat sitting asleep on a shelf, i which turned its head lazily toward me und then resumed its slumbers ; tiiis crea ure be - | came a hideous, vampire-like monster, with I : great fiery eyes, and with fangs and clawr like what were fabled to belong to the griffiif, : walking round, and blowing fetid breath on ; me, and pressing its frightful paws on my i i reast. But the worst of all was a brace of gigantic men sharpening instruments for my I uia-ection ; I could hear the whirring of the • i stone and the shrieking of the highly tempered • knives as the grinders laughed at the intended , dissection. One was more jocose and heart i less than the rest ; he was my implacable en emy ; we had quarreled and fought about a , school mate love. Presently I felt their keen knives at every joint ; I shrieked and screamed, bhiephemed and besought my tormentors, but i stiil ihe instruments hissed through my quiver ing flesh and grated along every bone. lam saii.-fi"d that all these emotions were experi enced within a moment after the first inhala -1 tion which began the process.of stupefaction. So swift is the evolutions of thought when sense is subdued, and when the phantom mon arch of dreams leads the son! through endless ■ avenues,swifter in its journeying than the short j lived fire which fails from uu overburdened i cloud. "But a gradual revolution of mental percep ■ tion succeeded ; those frightful spectres began ! to recede ; the men and knives began to describes one of the strange sights at Palermo, i the Sicilian city which lias just come into the I possession of the victorious legions of Gari baldi : " The strangest of all the strange sights at ! Palermo are the catacombs of the Capuchins. ( We are all familiar with the character of the Roman and Napolitan catacombs,underground t excavations, remarkable for their great extent, and for their associations with the history of , the early Church. The Palermo catacombs have a frightful peculiarity of their own. Y'ou , descend from the little church, just outside ! ■ the walls, not into deep, subterranean pes | ! sages, but into a succession of vaults, well ; lighted, aud of no greater depth than au or dinary cellar. These vaults are long aud nar row corridors, on either side of which, in ! niches cut oat of the wall, ranging in ghastly ranks are preserved tiie bodies of the dead, riot confined out of sight, but each in tnegurb appropriate to it while living, or else in a long robe of winding sheet. Below these niches are wooden coffins, with windows at the sides to show the faCes of the occupants. Over head, ripar the ceiling, are skeletons of chil dren sittincr, or of men reclining ; all perfectly preserved, some with the skins still covering the bones, others have nothing left but skull, and shoulders, and hip bones, with the arms in front, piou-iy crossed. Some peculiarity of the soil prevents the ordinary decomposition, and men buried nearly two hundred years ago still survive iu this skeleton company. Strange to say, tliey are not permitted to rest in peace. On the 2d of November in every year, the jrurdes mortis, or festival of the dead, their relatives llock to this dismal place, the; wt-il known mummies are taken out of their glazed coffins and dressed in gala costume. They number not less than six thousand in all ; aud I know of nothing more fearful than for a J living man to find hiros If, as I did, uuespect eolv among this army of dry hones. | " The most horrible feature of the whole exhibition is, that nearly every face wears in its fossil decay and ruiu a dreadful ludicrous add comic gaze down upou you, have a sort of a grim vitality of their own, and through j the entire array it seems as if there was a dumb intelligence—a cmte correspondence arid sympathy —irt the sinister and almost wicked way in which they return the curious j stare of the intruders. Y'et you cannot help stsring in spite of all this, arid the eye wan ders from on" group to another, with a strange aud morbid fascination. " tSoroe arc large-limbed, thick-skulled.com ' placent iu theirsuccessfulpreserralioti;others, with worn and weary h" ks.as if tired of such | stiff, calcareous companionship ; others, who seemed to have twisted and wriggled their joints i joc, and must stand perpetually stiil, or fail to pieces ; others, with tiu-ir ruined i heads hung down, as if in contemplation of their ended earthly life ; and others, indiffer ent and idle, some indignant, like the ghosts ! that Danle saw in hell, with scowls and grins sarcastic—all siieut, sepulchral, almost infer nal. " One such sight is sufficient for a life-time. As I write, 1 recall those spectral forms with a thriil of horror—the monks and priests in scarlet and black, t'ue children in fuil holiday garb, and the women, most hideous of all, in capes and shawls, and satins." An Interesting Sketch. Apprentices are invited to read a little way side story, which is but one of the thousauds like it that margin the highway of life ail ! along to its close : On Friday last, we dropped in at a station house, to see w hat items might hp gathered from the criminal docket of the tell-tale slate ! of the attentive Chief, and having taken all that was of interest to us, about jiassing out, : we met iu the door way one of the most loath some human beings it lias ever been our lot to I encounter. We stepped aside, quite willing to give the rag-muffled, man—for he had beeu a man once—the largest privilege in passing, i and was nstonised indeed when catching a j 1 glance nt u- he advanced, presented his hand, I and called us by nam*. We took his trem bling hand. though at first we could discover nothing in his haggard features tint at. uli re minded us of any former arqua ntance ; but when he mentioned his name, and the name of I j the paper on which we learned the beginning ! of the " art preservative of all arts," the ver italile " Bill Philips." anoid fellow apprentice, | stood before us. We had toiled sde by side | in a newspaper office (the Lycoming Gazette) i bearing the name of the county iu which it was located, in the northern part of Pennsyl vania, and we had known him then as an un commonly bright boy, a natural wit, a pet among his fellows, and withal the quickest and most correct compositor in tiie office. Leav j ing the office and business on account of ill health before we had completed our profession, we heard little of Bill, except that, for some trivui cause, he iiad run away from his em ployer, (who was likewise his benefactor) and but once heard of him us leading a rather dis sipated life in the city of Philadelphia. We sat down on otic of the station-house benches, and he recounted his adventures from the un lucky day on which he threw his '• wardrobe" over bis shoulder and turned his buck upon iiis employer, down to the time ot our acci dental meeting in the station-house door,where he had come to procure lodging for the night. It was the old story, and here he was, atter twenty years of wandering, a poor, miserable, friendless, dissipated creature, whom to de prive of his glass was to remove the prop which now served to sustain life. We took the poor feilow to better quarters, and, turn ing homewards, began thoughtfully to contrast the career of the fellow apprentice we had just left, with that of others, who, in the same office, served out their full apprenticeship, and aftcrwari's filled some of the highest po sitions in their native State. There was Ellis Lewis, until lately, Chief Justice of the Su preme Court of Pennsylvania, who cot only VOL. XXI. NO. 28 served his time there, but afterwards owned and edited the Crjzette, leaving it only to fill ? still higher and more respectable positions.— > Then there was another, a round faced, smart 5 boy, with nothing like the mother wit that Bill Philips possessed, but be was steady in his habits, served faithfully, and to-day Wil : liara F. Packer, the Governor of Pennsylvania, recurs to that as the period when he was, by ' honestly and steadily serving out bis time, ' laying the foundation for that success which • has since so abundantly crowned bis efforts. f Look at it, boys ! Tiiero are but two methods ' of accomplishing the journey ot life among 1 the close growing years that intervene between the begrining and the end—the one leads yon ; through a career of honor and usefulness, the 1 other terminates where poor Bill Philips will soon lay his weary bones—in Potter's Field. —Newark Mercury. i THF. VALUE OF A WlFE. —Quite an amusing | episode took place at the house of a promi nent clergyman of Cape Ann, Mass, a few days since. A couple presented themselves as candidates for matrimony, but the gentle man had ueglected to procure the customary certificate, being possessed of the idea that the minister could fill out one. After some delay, the necessary document was procured from the town eleik, and the banns were eon sumatcd. The happy bride,in orange wreaths and blushes, turned to adjust her bonnet, while the newly made knsbaud drew forth his wallet to liquidate the clergyman's fee. " What's to pay ?" quoth the bridegroom. " We leave those matters to the discretion ot the parties," replied the clergyman. " But what do yon usually get?" " That depends upon the circumstances of the parties married," answered the clergy man. " Well, there," said the happy bridegroom, in a tone of satisfaction, depositing a one doi [ lar bill on the tabic. "How much did yon give him, John?'' . the bride, turning from the glass. " A dollar." " One doiiar ! Well, if I had thought it wasn't worth more than a dollar to get mar ried I wouldn't have come here. Let me see ' your wallet," she continued. ' , The new husband very obediently passed all his treasure over to his better half, when she proceeded to draw a bill of much larger ; denomination, aed laid it with the other on j the table. "There," she continued, "if it isn't worth j that to get married, it isn't worth anything," 1 and passed back the wallet and proceeded to ! tin -h her toilet. But John was not disposed to sanction such wholesale extravagance on the part of his new . spouse, and no sooner had she turned to the g.iiss liian he hastily snatched the bill and ; placed it in his wallet again. The ncwlv married pair took leave of the clergyman—the one gratified that she had re . pressed ht r husband's niggardliness, and the . other chuckling that that he had not been forced into prodigality. ! IMPRESSIVE PERORATION. — Tllev. Dr. Spring, of New York, lately preached his fiftieth an ! niversarv sermou, and closed his discourse a* j follows :] The half century is gone ; gone like some star that has been twinkling in the curtain of the night ; gone like the dying cadence of dis tant minstrelsy, as it vanishes into the air; gone like the word just spoken, for good or for evil, never to be recalled ; gone like the clouds which disappear after they have ex | hausted their treasures upon the earth ; gone like the leaves of autumn,that are scattered to the winds as they wither; gone like the phan j turn which, in pursuit, had a semblance of rc | ulity, but which, in the retrospect, is melted away—gone, as yesterday has gone. Why do 1 say here, gone ? Nothing is gooe whose in* flnence remains. The man, the woman, the Sabbath, the prayers, the weeks, the months, j the years that some of as have beheld vanish, S one by one, in the mysterious past, live still in God's universe. Past ! What is past? What : is the momentous present —this now this nc | cepted time ? What is the never-ending fn l ture ? They are but parts that make up the grand uuit of eternity—eternity that was,and is, and ever will be. All time is a unit, where the angel at Heaven's high court records as well the. responsibilities of preachers, and where the ureat Witness and Judge will ren der to every man according to his works." ARITHMETICAL PI ZZI.E. —lf four dogs, with sixteen legs,can catch twenty-nine rabbits,with eighty seven legs in forty four minutes, how ' many legs must the same rabbits have to get away from eight dogs, with thirty-two legs, in seventeen minutes and a half ? Wehavefieen sums iu the books neatly as sensible as this. "BII.LT, my boy," said a short sighted and rather intemperate father to his son, a bright [ little frllow of about five summers, " did you take my glasses ?' "No, pa, but ma says she guesses as you took 'ein 'fore yon come home.' "Ilenry, you ought to be ashamed, to throw away bread like that. You may want it some day." "Well, mother, would I stand any bet ter chance of getting it then, should I eat it ; up uow ?" — B®"An afflcted husband was returning from the funeral of his wife, when a friend asked hira how he felt. " Well," said he, pathetio a 11v, " I think I feel the better for that little walk." The reason way whales frequent the nrtic seas H, probably, because they supply the " Northern lights " with oil. ttg- If exercise promotes health, those who collect old bills for editors, should be among i the longest lived people on earth. f A very rare combination —dollara and