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
!<i s chair to the stand in hopes of (ini-liiug
his story, but liai'ri ! Come boy, just move
your chair back, and not make yourself quite
so conspicuous" lie moved back, and soon
I slipped out of the room aud was soon forgot
, ten by all but myself ; fait often in tiie course
lof the evening did I wonder where the bov
was. About nine lie came in, and I expected
a scene, but no question was asked, and he
1 passed on to his room. I could not refrain
from a-king my -ister where Charles spent his
evenings. " Oh," she said, "he generally
goes over to the other house ; they take a
i piper, aud always read it aloud, evenings.—
I This then was the mystery ; the boy could
not have the privilege of reading at home,
and went to the neighbors.
1 fi-lt sick, heart-sick, and home-sick, and
longed for the quiet of my own home. But a
whole winter was before tne, and something
must be done. At last >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 <H
; minish ; the cat retu-ned to natural propor
tions. and crept slow ly away ; the voices be
came |e-s harsh and threatening, and the roisc
in the street was subdued to unbroken silence
I looked into a universe of light, with nothing
visible, until indistinct forms appeared on the
i horizon, coming toward me and defining them
' selves as they came. One was my mother,
clad in grave clothes, bat as she nenred, her
habiliments changed to the fabrics which glit
tered in the prophet's vision when he looked
over the "great congregation which no man
I could number." Directly she stood by me ;
and recogriiz tig every feature, I saw that each
age-mark was gone ; her cheek was fresh as
the young girls when she first blushes at the
whispered words of love, and, stooping to kiss
me, the apparition went out, leaving another,
stiil more beautiful and youthful ; it was the
figure of my voting wife, who died in the birth
of lu-r first child. She held an infant in Iter
arms who reached down and ran his tiny fin
gers through tnv hair ; but when I tried to
take him in my arms, infant and mother were
gone. Strange, that I felt no disappointment;
I knew they were but pictures that linng iu
i the galleries of a father's heart. Everything
; changed to an existence of indescribable pleas
l ure ; 1 laughed and danced like one mad with
J the exhilerution of unexpected deliverance from
1 torture ; the air catne into my lungs grateful
ly ns the np-gnshing of eoo! water to the lips
of a thirsty drinker. The aroma of celestial
gardens seemed about me ; I believed tli3t I
was in the territory ot souls, aud wondered
i how any one should fear to die. I could hear
sounds in tiie street, bnt they seemed to pro-
J long and swell like the sound of a great or
j gun. Millions of symmetrical creatures pa-s
-'ed in review a'ong a horizon of silver and
gold, and yet 1 was conscious that they were
but tlie creatures of a distorted imagination.
"Presently 1 became conscious of returning
sense ; my limlis felt unwieldy and of too great
proportions to be moved by the strengthening
will ; my eyes opened and began to discern ob
jects returning to natural dimensions, and I
. began to comprehend the conversation of per
sons in the room. The whole operation had
not occupied half an hour, but I had lived
centuries of indescribable horrors, and emo
tions of happiness which are incomprehensible
to the sane and wakeful mind. My sight was
I preserved, and the fragment of steel is stili in
my possession, which, like tiie key of St. Pe
ter, unlocked celestial splendors.
QUOTING SCRIPTURE.—A short time ago,
says tlie Glasgow Guardian, a primitive
preacher, while discoursing in a chapel in New
castle, took occasion to mention the many
trials and difficulties which often had beset
• hi- path. " But," said lie, "in the midst of
all ray difficulties, I am led to persevere in
in the good work by the following passage of
Scripture coming into my mind: 'Faint
heart never won fair lady !'" Tais is about
as good as the editor of the Glasgow Reform
er's Gazette in complimenting Lord Chester
field for his sensible remark that "evil coui
j muuicatious corrupt good maimers."
A GOOD REPLY.—An Irish carriage-driver
marie a very nappy and charaeferi-tie reply
tiie other day. A gentleman had replied to
Pat's "Want a carriage sir?" by saying,
• 1 " No, I am able to walk," when Pat rejoined,
" May your honor long be able bat seldom
willing."
To teli all your secrets is generally folly,
. | hut that folly is without guilt; to comniuni
■ ! cate those with which you are entrusted is
■ j always treachery for the most part combined
I with folly
Catacombs of Palermo.
In the Independent, George Allen Bntler thus
> 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