jj: DJILAR PER ANNUM invariably in advance.
TOAVAT\ :
Thursday Morning, February 7, 1861.
Stltriti Jloctn;.
LET ME REST!
BV ASM* *• H - VADKK.
lam weary, let me rest
On thy broad and tender breast;
Suffer me awhile to lie
Without kisses, silently,
j am sick er sin and earth.
In my spirit is a dearth,
That no human love can fill,—
Throbs, n> human voice can still.
1 am weary, let me rest ;
Oh! the aching in my breast.
Oh ! the thoughts that sweep along,
That I cannot clothe in song,
Thoughts of childhood's hopes and fears,
Thoughts of childhood's bitter tears,
Thoughts of days forever past.
Thoughts of love that could not last.
I am weary, let me rest ;
Oh! that tittle word, how Mest!
Pure as aught to mortals given,
Seeming less of earth than hea\en .
When the soul is bowed with c3re,
<), how mild it breathes the prayer,
r.est, the longing spirit cries ;
Iteat on earth, and in the skies.
Though I won :d not scorn the rest,
Pound upon a himiau breast,
l>t their stay wiii sometime break,
.And the frightened dreamer wake.
Wake, to live through loveless years,
Wake to bitter, bitter tears.
Dearest, let thy head and mine
<)u our Saviour's breast recline !
Iftis c 111 an 10 ns.
An Old Time Picture.
f Wherever a railroad has mode ith wav, the
old fashioned village inn disappears. It flies
before the coming engine like a wild flower at
tiie touch of the plough sbure.
The picture of a New Yoik village inn has
liecome historic —a thing of the past. It aud
the stage coach were lovely in their lives, and
111 death they will not be divided.
What New York country hoy—hoy twenty
vear. ago ! does not remember that inn
cannot shut his eyes aud see it now, as it
stood a rambling structure, with low-browed
" stoop " and well-worn step, and the traces
of time and storm upon its battered gables?—
1 lieie was the bar-room ; here the great lire
ip'nce, with its huge old knob-aiidircns, in the
old fashioned winter, bearing a pyramid of
ih while around it the rush-bottomed chairs
jwdrawn on in a great circle. And where
lis the old Boniface, w hi* " capon lined," shuf
fled aMind in his slippers and stirred the
towing logs with a great shovel, till they
Ir sred again ? And where is the old village
quire that sat there in the corner, and nightly
lured the nation " from war, pestilence and
limine where the village gossip that re-
Itailed to the crowd of idle listeners the
lemail scund/e of the day ? The walls are
Icovered with old handbills ; nil tiiat remains
I (I cue i.> a fragment about a carding machine,
while the top of the bill, "where the wool
ought to be," went away in a whiff, as it
lighted somebody's pipe, while in lieu thereof
" Constable's Sole," done with poor pen and
pale ink, is attuched to the wall with four
sections of an unfortunate wafer. Here an
impassable horse is getting aw ay from an iu
describable man ; there an old placard of a
"Caravan " hangs in tatters, a green parrot
having allighted on a blue elephant, and a
r&mpaut lion having thrust his nose into the
I 1 pocket of a stage driver's coat that hang 3
Irotn n wooden [tin, but grandest of all is the
pc'.ure of the stage coach labelled the " En
terprise," that is drawn by four spanking
r •■, with three legs or so apiece, is pi tin g-
I'"tErectly into a thunder cloud, while "John
Jkvrsand family" stand aside to seethe
r Drld go by !
I Here is a bunk, strown with buffalo robes,
irooghcoat, the advertising half of an old
ifspaper, a whip with an Alexandrine lash,
•id & village loafer ; and there, in that dim
rorner, is a cage with wooden bars pointed
the tops, and a narrow shelf beneath,
through which, aforetime, little green tum
blers and round black bottles came and went,
B 'the weather wns cold or hot, or wet and
or the wind blew from the north, or
"there was a great calm." Then there was
the dog, huge shaggy and old, old as long ago
88 *e can remember, eld before that, forever
Bs 'eep under the buuk, or forever lying with
his nose between his paws in the open door.
It is summer, and a summer Doon. The big
yellow watch hangs motionless, the black
'®ith s hammer intermits, a man lies asleep on
'he dry goods box, and the merchant stands
"'il in the door. A thirsty dog is lapping
•iter at the trough by the pump, and a drone
" wring Lis prayers on its edge. The bar
roo<n is silent, all but the heavy breath of the
master and dog, and the drowsy hum of
flies - The fire-place is greeu with asparagus,
the winter is over and gone. Faintly in
' 8 distant is a sound—it is a bee iu the gar
etl—shriller, clearer—it is a shout. Louder,
er , Dearer, it is the horn of the coming
t!*^' it winds np and down among
■"• notes like a bugle, abrupt and emphatic,
then with a " dying fall.'
The landlord arouses himself, the dog is
* ' * be post master comes out upon the
P B , the tailor looks out of the window.—
e ratl ' e °f wheels is distinguished, the jing
'K of bo l 1 s nn( j t he crack of the long whip.
fr°*? k'"' over the bridge, here it comes,
s to with a flourish, and the four-in-hand
Dha °P before the door with an em
mukeB the old coach rock and
like a ship in a swell,
i ffr * r ' s tbr °®" opeu, and one woman in
' empr ? f, s ! the depleted mailbag
i-, , r °"b from beneath the driver's feet
' - B 'lers aud wheel horses alrcadv ate
meeting the " relief," as they defile out from
the shed, the leaders gay with tassels and the
bright plated rings.
" All right,'' is the cry ; the " ribbons " are
in hand ; two sharp notes upon the horn ; the
woman in the green calash comes out again ;
the coach door goes to with a bang ; the whip
is whirled off with a whistle, and, by some
slight of hand, explodes exactly between the
off leader's two cars, and away they go, while
clouds of dust roll up behind the dusty "Loot"
and hide the small boy towed by the straps
like a small boat astern.
The " Columbian Star,'' and a letter for the
lawyer are taken out of the bag ; the tailor's
needle is flashing again through the scam ;
the sparks begiu to fly at the door of the
Blacksmith—the landlord lies stretched at
length on the bunk, and the world has gone
by lor a day !
Happy village ! Would that the Rip Van
Winkles of the valley might awake from their
long, long sleep ; but not the stage horn's
herald note ; nor yet the voice of the steed
whose neck is clothed with iron, with thunder,
can disturb their dreamless repose ; for no
sound can reach them where they lie.— Auburn
Democrat.
Sayings of Children.
When Neliie was three and a half years
old, she chanced to visit a cousin, a few months
older than herself. They played harmoniously
for some time, but at length a dispute arose
about a few beads, of which each determined
to gain possession Just as it seemed evident
that a struggle would ensue, a new idea struck
Nellie. Relinquishing her hold of thecoveted
prize, she exclaimed, while her countenance
glowed with satisfaction, at what she felt to
be a conclusive argument—" Oh, Lizzie, yon
should remember the Golden Rule, to be kind
to each other—give me all of them."
An artist allowed little Fannie to look over
while he drew a landscape for her. After
watching for a few moments the progress of
the picture, she exclaimed—" Oh, .Mr. Wells,
do tell me how you make t coy off so beauti
ful." The artbt prized the compliment, al
though the critic was only ttiree and a half
years old.
Eddie's grandmama reprimanded him for
an net of disobeieuce, and told him it washer
duty to let his mamma know how naughty he
he had been. "Oh. DO, grandmamma," said
he, " 1 would not trouble her with it."
A little boy kneeling at his mother's knee,
to say his evenings prayer, asked ieave to pray
in his own words, and with a child-like sim
plicity, said—" God bless little Willie, aud
don't let the house huru up—God bless papa
and mamma —God bless ine A make my boots
go on easy in the morning."
Little Georgie, an interesting boy of four
summers, had been taught by his mother to
pray, and she had otten told him that to pray
to God was to talk to him, and tell him just
what lie wanted. At night, after he bad re
peated the Lord's Prayer, lie was accustomed
to make a short prayer of his own words.—
Though Georgie was generally a very good
boy, and loved his parents most tenderly, yet
it sometimes happened that he needed correc
tion ; for, like all children, he liked to have
his own way. One day, being unwilling to
yield to his mother's wishes, she was obliged
to punish him, for she did not wish lier little
bny to grow up a wicked and unruly son. At
night, when it was time for him to repeat his
prayers, he could not forget his naughty ac
tions ; arid, as lie had been taught, he talked
to God about it in the following manner, feel
ing all the while very serious, though Lis lan
guage was so childish : " O Lord ! bless
Georgie, and make him.a good boy, and don't
let him be naughty again—never, no, never :
because, you know, when he is naughty, he
slicks to it so !"
Would it not be well for some of my little
readers to make use of " Georgie's prayer ?"
Boot's JEWF.I.RY. —The following item, which
we clip from the .Vet/' Hampshire Journal of
Agriculture, will prove particularly interesting
to ttiose who patronize "gift store"enterprises,
and such like benevolent schemes to put into
the hands of purchasers jewelry which is " it
self worth more than the price" of the par
ticular article that is ostensibly purchased. —
It would be well for the public to make a note
of it !
" I came through Lynn, Boston, etc., to
the little manufacturing village called X. E.
Village, and learned something about making
the bogus jewelry with which the country is
flooded either by pedlers or gift-book enter
prises. One company is making ear drops of
a composition called oreide, which will sell for
gold, but is not worth so much as brass. The
other company is manutacturing gold chains
out of German silver, brass, oreide The
process of making was interesting to me, aud
may be to others, l'l' give it : The links are
cut from wire or plate, according to the kind
of chain ; sometimes soldered before putting
into a chain, and sometimes afterward. After
it is linked, it is drawn through a machine to
even it—boiled in vitriol water to take off the
scales caused by heating—drawn through a
limbering machine, and dipped in acid to clean
it, after which it is dipped in a solution of
pure silver and finally dipped in gold coloring
—making a chaiu which will sell at the rale
of $l2 or $lB a dozen. This is the gift-en
terprise jewelry which is marked ' Lady's
splendid gold chain, sB,' or 'slo,' 'Gent's
guard chain, sl2,' etc. The ear-drops cost
less, aud are often marked higher."
Nine-tenths of the jewelry displayed on our
streets is bogus matter, hardly worth a shil
ling a pound, but which costs nearly as much
as the pure stuff does. The ostentatious dis
play of metals or precious stones, is becoming
au index of flash characters and of persons
in the lower ranks.
A YOUNG LADY remarked the other day
that she would like to do something so as to
have her name appear in the paper. We ad
vise her to get some ODe to put bis name iu
with hers.
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY R. W. STURROCK.
Half an Hour in a Railroad Ticket Office.
Traveler—"New York;" planking the price
of a ticket. The ticket clerk jerks out a
ticket, and jerks in the money almost in an
instant, without a word, aud the traveler gives
place for the next comer, who perhaps has
the same destination, but who occupies much
more time in making his wants known, some
thing after this style :
" What's the faro to New York ?"
" Four dollars."
" llow long afore you start ?"
''Ten minutes."
" Ah—er—can you change a fifty dollar
bill ?"
" Yes, sir."
"Give me change iu Hoston money (laying
out the fifty) and in five dollar bills if you
can."
(Change is made and ticket thrown out in
almost a secoud of time.)
" Do you get iu New York as early now as
usual ?"
"Yes, sir."
" What time does the Felidelfy train leave
to-morrow morning?"
" Seven, thirty."
By this time the gent has gathered op his
bank notes, folded them up,put them smoothly
into a pocket book, poked his umbrella into
the stomach of a heated individual from the
rural districts who was waiting nervously be
ll ind him, and by the delay caused the collec
tion of a half-a dozen of other applicants for
tickets.
Next comes the countryman's turn.
[Breathlessly]—"Ticket for Boston ?"
" You are in IJoston now, sir."
"Oh ! oh—er ! Yes, ah! ah! ah! ah! ah!
I waut to go to Plymton —ville " —[no show
of money.]
" Forty-live cents ?"—(waiting for a show
of funds.)
" Yes ; wal, I'll take one ticket."
" Yes, sir, forty-five cents."
Bv tliis time cent from the rural district
comprehends the pay in advance principle
adopted at all well-regulated railway stations;
—and fishing into the profound depths of his
pantaloous pocket, withdraws, in a capacious
band, a miscellaneous collection, which, from
hasty glauce, appears to be composed of a
piece of cavendish tobacco, ft lead pencil, a
a piece of red chalk, large jack-knife, u polit
ical medal, leather shoe-string, ft couple of
buttons, a suspender buckle, and some change.
From the latter a twenty-five cent piece, two
half dimes, two three cent pieces, aud four
cents are laboriously extracted and deposited
on the counter, from which they are rapidly
swept by three or four dexterous passes of
the clerk, who turns to serve a lady.
" I want a lady's ticket to Providence," —
depositing a five dollar note. Clerk throws
out ft "lady's ticket," which bears a striking
similarity to, and in fact would be called a
twin brother of a "gentleman's ticket,' and
also the change at the same time. Lady
cautiously examines a bank note she lias re
ceived in exchange. "Is this a good bill
" Certainly, madam, we give none other."
Lady retires perfectly satisfied. The next
customer is an illustrious exile, whom we have
every reason to suppose has recently fared
sumptuously upon a repast in which onions
must have figured conspicuously as a vegetable
and moderate-priced whiskey as the principal
beverage.
" Shure, what is the phrice of a tickhet
now to Nee Yarrk ?"
" Deck passage, two doilars and a half"
" Wouldn't you take a dollar and seventy
five ents ? shure it's all the money I've got
at all, at all."
" No, two dollars and fifty cents."
[Persuasively]—" Shure, wouldn't ye take
two dollars /"
"Not a cent less than two filtv. [Em
phatically.] Pass out your money or pass
on !"
Put finding blarney and persuasion of no
u*e in this instance, counts out his cash, which
the quick eye of the clerk discovers to be a
little*short of the required amount.
"Three ceuts more."
The stray three cent piece is reluctantly
dropped from Patrick's warm palm, and the
individual who succeeds anxiously inquires
" what time the live o'clock train leaves," and
is seriously informed "at sixty minutes past
four."
The next inquires—"Has Mr. Smith bought
a ticket for this train ?"
" Can't say, sir ; don't know him."
" Oh, he is a dark complectioned man, had
on a dark overcoat, and an umbrella under
his arm."
In consideration of the fact that about
fifty " dark complexiotied " individuals, with
" dark overcoats " on, had purchased tickets
of the clerk, some having umbrellas uuder
their arms ami some not, it is not extraordi
nary that he does not rucollect which one is
Mr. Smith.
All the time these negotiations are going
on, eager interrogators ou the outer circle of
the crowd about the office are propounding
questions, aud a runtiiug fire of them aud re
plies fill up every possible pause.
" When does the next train start ?"
" Ten minutes to five."
"Say you ! What do you tax to Mans
field ?"
" Seventy five cents."
Sailor—" Purser, give us a card to New
Bedford." Slaps down the gold coin, sweeps
ticket and change back all into the crown of
his hat, takes a bite of the weed, and rolls off
to a car " well forrard."
" Does this train stop at L.?"
"No ! this is the express train."
" Which one does ?"
" Accommodation—leavos at 2 1-2 o'clock."
" Ticket-'n'arf to Providence."
" How old is that half ticket ?"
"Hey ?"
" How old is the child you want the half
ticket for ?"
"'Twecn seven aud eight."
"Js that the boy ?" pointing to a lad about
" REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
eleven, who was endeavoring to make himself
look as short as possible, by erookiug his legs
and resting his chin on the counter.
" Yes, that's him, s'pose you only charge
half price for boys."
"Full price for him, sir."
" Full price ? why he's ouly a boy ; yer
hadn't ought to charge full price."
" Big enough to occupy a seat, sir ; full
price if you please."
The applicant reluctautly draws out the
money, and the boy grows some eight or ten
Inches in stature in as many seconds.
" Ticket for New Y'ork," says another,
throwing down a ten dollar note. The (Jerk
gives a rapid glance at the bank note, fol
lowed by a keeu, searching one at the appli
cant, and then replies : " Counterfeit." The
dropping of trie under jaw, the blank aud
stupified amazement of the latter at this an
nouncement proves at once the official's judg
ment was correct, and that the applicant was
unconscious of the character of the note uutil
he tendered it in paymeut for a ticket.
The Crocodile and the Boa.
A foreign correspondent thus describes a
light which he witnessed between a boa cou
strictor and a crocodile in Java :
It was one morning that I stood beside a
small lake, fed by one of the rills from the
mountains. The waters were as clear as crys
tal, and everything could be seen to the very
bottom. Stretching its limbs close over this
pond, was a gigantic teak tree, and in its thick,
shiuing evergreen leaves, lay a huge boa, in
an easy coil, taking his morning nap. Above
him was a powerful ape, of the baboon species,
a ieering race of scamps, always bent on mis
chief. Now the ape from his position saw a
crocodile in the wuter, risiug to the top exact
ly beneath the coil of the serpent. Quick as
thought, he jumped plump upon the snake,
which fell with a splash into the jaws of the
crocodile. The ape saved himself by clinging
to a limb of a tree, but a battle royal imme
diately commenced injthe water. The serpent,
grasped in the middle by the crocodile made
the waters boil by his furious contortions. —
Winding his folds round and round the body
of his antagonist, he disabled his two hinder
legs, and by his contractions made the scales
of the monster crack. The water was speedily
tinged with the blood of both combatants, yet
neither was disposed to yield They roiled
over and over, neither being able to obtaiu a
decided advantage. All this time the cause
of the mischief was in u state of the highest
ecstacv. He leaped up and down the branch
es of the tree, came several times close to the
scene of fight, shook the limbs of the tree,
uttered a yell, and agaiu frisked about. At
the eud of ten minutes a silence came over the
scene. The folds of the serpent began to be
relaxed, and though they were trembling along
the back, the bead hung lifeless in the water.
The crocodile was also still, and though only
the spines of his back were visible it was evi
dent that he was dead. The monkey now
perched himself on the lower limbs of the
tree, close to the dead bodies, and amused
himself lor ten minutes in making ali sorts of
faces nt them. This seemed to be adding in
sult to injury. One of my companions was
stauding at a short distance, and taking a
stone from the edge of the lake, hurled it at
the ape. lie was totally unprepared, and as
it struck him on the side of the head, he was
instantly toppled over and fell upon the croeo
dile. A few bounds however brought him
ashore, and taking to the tree, iie speedily dis
appeared among the thick branches.
THE COOLEST THING ON RECORD. —As Gen.
Scott's army was marching triumphantly into
the city of Mexico, a procession of monks
emerged from the gate of a convent situated
ou the eminence to the right, and advanced
with slow and measured tread until they met
the army at right angles. The guide or lead
er of the procession was a venerable priest,
whose hair was whitened with the frost of
many winters. lie held iu both bands a con
tribution box, upon which there was a lighted
candle, and when within a few feet of the ar
my the procession halted. As the army pro
ceeded, many a true believer in St. Patrick
dropped some small coin or other iuto the old
priest's box. And, when it was observed that
a soldier was searching in his pockets for some
thing to bestow, the old priest would step for
ward and hold his box to receive the donation.
Ultimately, there came along a tall, gaunt,
limber-sided, gander-looking Yankee, who, on
seeing the old priest, thrust his hands into the
very depths of his breeches pockets, as iu
search for a dime, or something of the kind.
The priest, observing this movement, advanced
as usual, while Jonathan holding forth a
greasy looking roll of paper, commenced very
deliberately unfolding it. The old priest an
ticipated a liberal donation, and put ou an air
of the most exquisite satisfaction. Jonathan
continued to unroll piece afti r piece of dirty
paper, until at length he found a piece of tri
twisted smoking tobacco. He next thrust his
hands into another pocket, and drew forth a
clay pipe, which, with the utmost deliberation,
he proceeded to fill by pinching off small par
ticles of the tobacco. When this was done,
having replaced his tobacco iu his breeches
pocket, he stooped forward and lighted his
pipe by the old priest's caudle, and making an
awkward inclination of the head (intended,
perhaps, for a bow,) he said, " Much obleeged
to ye, Squire !" and proceeded on.
A WAG on being asked what he had for din
ner, replied " A lean wife, and the ruin of a
man for sauce." His dinner consisted of a
spare rib of pork and apple sauce.
THE GAME OF LIKE. —In youth, hearts are
trumps ;in manhood, dimonds and clubs, but
at the close of life spades are sure to win.
WHY is a dog with a broken leg like a boy
at arithmetic? Answer—Because he puts
dowu three and carries one.
"Providentially Directed."
Devoutly inclined persona frequently imagine
that the suggestions of their own human na
ture are the iutimations and directions of
God.
They love to be guided by Ilim, and they
love to think that their pleasaut desires aud
purposes are inspired by Him ; thus they
easily deceive themselves. An amusing in
stance of this took place ut a certain confer
ence. Among the attendants was a very
beautiful, intelligent-looking young lady, who
drew the admiring gaze of many eyes, par
ticularly eyes maseuliue, always on the look
out for pretty feminine faces.
During the intermission, at noon, a spruce
youDg minister stepped up to the presiding
elder, and said, with an air of secrecy :
" Did you observe the young lady who sat
by the first pillar on the left ? '
" Yes," said the elder, " what of her?"
"Why," said the young man, " I feel irn
pressed that the Lord desires me to take that
lady for my wife. I think that she will make
a good companion aud helpmate in the work
of the ministry."
The good elder had nothing to object.
But in a few moments another youthful
candidate for the ministeral efforts and honors,
and for the name of husband, came confidently
to make known to the eider a like impression
in regard to the same young lady.
"You had better wait awhile. It is not
best to be hasty iu determining the source of
such impressious," said the prudent elder.
And he had well said, for hardly were the
steps of the second youth cold at his side, ere
a third approached with the same story, and
whiie the worthy confident marvelled, a fourth
drew near with the questiou—
" Did you uotice the fine, noble lookiug wo
man sitting near your left!"
" Yes," cried the swelling elder.
"Well, sir," went on the fourth, victim of
that one unsuspicious girl, "it is strongly
born in upon my mind, that it is the will of
the Lord that I should make proposals of
marriage to that lady. He has impressed me
that she is to be my wife.''
The elder could hold in no longer.
" Impossible ! Impossible !" he exclaimed
in ati .excited tone. "The Lord never could
have intended that four nun should marry that
one woman!"
A SCOTCHMAN AND AN IRISHMAN thrashing
for a dutch farmer iu Fishkill, the former ob
served to the latter, who was fresh from the
bogs of fvillarnev, that in course of long resi
dence iu this country he had remarked the
uncommon docility of the horse, that amoug
the many instances of their tractability, he
had actually seen them employed iu thrashing
out wheat. " Arrah, my jewel," cried Bat, "I
am half a dozen years too ripe to believe
that." The Scot insisted that what he said
was true. And Pat, staggered at length by
his serious and repeated assertions, exclaimed
in tones of wonder, " And how do they
hold the flails?"
A GEM. Rev. Mr. Stockton, Chapiaiu of
the House of Representatives, at Washington,
in his address on the recent last day, after de
scribing in glowing language, our glorious na
tional inheritance, exclamed:
" Aud shall such a heritage as this be sun
dered and destroyed? Clasp thy broken staff
with shame, O flag of stars, superseded aud
dishonored by the pitiful Palmetto ! Start
from thine eyrie, thou eagle of the morning !
j shake from thy pinions the dews of the night,
aud relume thy vision in the splendor of the
j sunrise, lest the rattlesnake, crawling up the
I cliff, shall steal on thy slumbers and strike thee
1 uuaware."
THIRTY THOUSAND APPLES ON A SINGLE
TREE.:— " William R. May, ofPomfret, (Ct.)
picked forty bushels of apples from one tree.
He had the curiosity to count the number of
apples iu one peck, and fond 190, making 700
in one bushel, and 30,400 apples grew upou
the tree.''
So we sec it stated. The apples must have
been rerti small. Thirty large apples make a
peck ; from forty to forty five of medium size,
and about sixty small ones. But here we have
190 ! They could not have been much larger
than a Delaware grape.
DISADVANTAGE or BEING WHITE.— " Well
Diuah," said a would-be belle to a black girl,
" they say that beauty soon fades ; do you see
any of my bloom fading ? Now, tell me
plainly, without any compliments."
" Oh, no, Miss ; but deu me kiuder t'ink—'
" Think what, Dinah ? you're bashful."
" Oh, no, me no bashful ; but deu me kin
der t'inks as how Missa dou't retain her color
quite as well as colored lady.'
A FRENCH paper says that bv an accident,
charcoal has been discovered to be a cure fur
burns. By laying a piece of cold charcoal
upon a burn, the paiu subsides immediately.—
By leaving the charcoal on oue hour the
wound is healed, as has been demonstrated
on several occasions. The remedy is simple,
and certainly deserves a trial.
MRS. PARTINGTON says she has noticed
that whether flour was dear or cheap, she had
invariably to pay the same money for half a
dollar's worth.
" You want nothing, do you ?" said Pat—
an' if its nothing you want, you'll find it in the
jug where the whiskey was"
THE bill prohibiting slavery in Nebraska,
has been passed iu the House over Gov.
Black's veto.
TnAT mad wag, Prentice, says tall gentle
men are always successful, because the ladies
are all in favor of hymen.
AN editor of a paper iu Indiana, wants to
know if western whisky was ever 6ecn "cumin'
thro' the rve
VOl_i. XXL. —NO. 36
(fktaiional ftpatfmtat.
THE SCHOOL MISTRESS.
t
Besiui: an unfrequented road,
The rustic school house stood—
Its modest front and moss grown roof
Half hidden by the wood.
Around its latticed windows clung
Sweet flowers and fragrant vines,
Aud just In front—like sentinels—
Grew two protecting pines.
Few trav'lers ever pasasd that spot.
But stopped awhile to gaze
Upon a scene that brought to mind
Their happy scbool-boy days.
And none e'er turned away but left
A blessing and a prayer,
For both the Teacher and the taught
Who daily gathered there. i
It was my lot one summer morn,
To journey o'er this road.
And there for full au hour or more
I rested with my load ;
One after one across the fields,
The tidy children ran,
Ambitious to secure their seats
Before the school began.
A score of faces, bright and clean.
Soon gathered at the door—
A happier group I've seen not since
And never saw before.
The merry shout—the ringing laugh.
With music tilled the air—
And iny sad heart forgot Us grlofs,
The sin'ess glee to share.
Ilut soon a watchful child proclaimed
The mistress near at hand,
And murmurs of delight were'breatbed
Throughout the little band.
I'll ne'er forget that lovely face—
I see it yet in dreams—
And ever to my spirit's evo
An angel face it seems.
As rapidly she pressed the turf
And passed the easy stiles,
Her glowing cheeks and rosy lips
Were wreathed with radiant smiles.
Amid her charge she stood at last—
Each answered to her call:
Her usual greeting then I saw—
A kiss for one and all.
This o'er she led them in and soon
Low murmurs filled the air ;
I listened breathless and in awe,
To her impassioned prayer.
The sweet " amen " the children said :
Aud then a hymn they sung—
And then I heard the studious hum
From every busy tongue.
I trust I was a better men
When I resumed ray way,
Aud never shall ray heart forget
The lesson of that day.
(J God ! on that young Teacher's head
I.et thy best gilts descend ;
As she to those young sinless souLs,
Be thou to her, a friend.
Permanence of Teachers.
[Extract fmn\ report made by Hon. J. T XOKTOX, on the
schools Of Farinineton, ft., to the Legislature, May
Ibid.]
The chief advantages of a continuance of
the same teachers are uniformity of discipline,
and systematic arrangement of studies. It is
as reasonable to expect a child will be trained
when placed every six months under the
charge of a new guardian to exercise parental
control, as that cur children will be well dis
ciplined under a constant change of teachers.
It usually takes a teacher, particularly a good
one, half a season to get his pupils well train
ed in his harness ; while an experienced teach
er in the same school will have them all ready
at once for their work.
Hut the chief objection to a change of
teachers is a constant chauge of studies, and
methods of study, which have an effect to dis
sipate the mind and render the scholars super
ficial. A new teacher cannot know the state
of a scholars' mind, or his qualifications to en
ter a particular study, as he wishes to exhibit
to the parents great improvements in his pu
pils, he puts them into new studies or new
methods of study, and pushes them forward,
so that they may appear to have learued a
great deal. However successful he may have
been in his nudertakiugs, his scholars can only
have begun to acquire a perfect knowledge of
their studies or peculiar methods of study,
when another teacher comes in with different
studies and methods, atid those of the previous *
teacher are laid aside, unperfected. Some
few scholars have sufficient talent aud indus
try to break through with the difficulties and
become proficients ; but as a general thing,
much of their knowledge is superficial. Go
into such a school aud question a scholar of '
12 as to his studies:—"Have you studied
grammar ?" " Yes, two winters.'' Question
him, and he understands not one principle.
" Have you studied geography ? Yes, four
years.'' " How far have you studied V "To
Europe." " Why have you got no further ?"
" Because every teacher puts me to the begin
ning." And so on in arithmetic, history, Ac.,
and still worse in writing. Xow our schools
with permanent teachers have as regular a
sj stein of studies a? they have in college ; and
when a scholar has thoroughly completed one,
he goes into another. And little valuable can
be acquired in any other way. It fs true, this
slow and sure method of improvement may
not be so striking to a parent, but its utility it
very obvious to tlie school visitor. Audwhilo
be may hear some parents suggest, that an
improvement may be made in this or that by a
change of teachers, he may reply, it is true
some things might be improved, no teacher it
perfect in all thiugs ; but you will not find one
teacher in a hundred, who, all things consid
ered, will do as well in your school as the one
you now have. I would therefore advise you
by all means to continue him.
As a general fact, a competent efficient fe
male teacher in a summer school, will, if cou
tiaued in the same school, make a better teach
er for the wiuter syhool, than any tnale teacher
iu her place.