.ftJLIAR PER A®UM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOWOVI:
Ttursday Morning, July 18, 1861.
S;lcrfci) Pottrn.
BITTERNES.S.
We sat among the ripe white sheaves ;
Tlie western skiff- were golden red ;
We had a book : we turned the leaves;
But not a word we said.
A sudden lull-a thrilling pause ;
We seemed at once one thought to have, ■
We little could divine the cause
That such a moment gave.
A minute that comes once and goes ;
That must be snatched at once or lost ;
0 foolish heart '.-but soiuetbiug rose
In me. Our fate was crossed.
Wo rose up from the shining sheaf;
Wc looked back at the setting sun ;
We scarcely spoke—we seemed to grieve
The g'dden day was done.
And <>n the morrow 1 was gone,
Wc could not speak for paultry tear
17,( morrow 0,1
And we find euch a bitter one,
\<ir meet for niuny a year.
, - - *——• 1 ■ • ■ ■
i s 1111 ;i nto us.
|~" [From the Printer.]
I WASHINGTON'S VISION.
BV WKSTI.KY BRADSHAW.
Ibelast time I over saw Anthony Sherman
si > on tlie 4th of .July, 18.VJ, in Indepcudeiioe
. ire. lie was then ninety-otic, and be
ing very feeble; but though so eld, his
an" eves rekindled us he looked tit Inde
dice Ilall, which, he said, lie had come
1,;,, B; >o:i once more before lie was gath
home.
What time is it?" said ho, raising his
-"iiblitiff eves to the clock in the steeple, and
- .-storing to shade the former with a shak- j
[ .'hand—" what little is it ? 1 can't see so
l.f now as 1 used to."
lUIf-past three."
! "Come, then," lie continued, " let ns go in- 1
••the Hall: 1 want t > tell you an incident of j
Washington's life—one which no one alive ;
mows of except myself, and if you live, you
will, before long, see it ver.ficd. Mark me, I
,BJ not superstitious, but you will see it veri- I
Led
I Reaching the visitor's room, in which the i
Lcred relics of our early days are preserved, I
Lr at down upon one of the old-fashiohed <
■c ten benches, and my venerable friend rela
k ' i me the following singular narrative,
■ ;i, from the pccaiiaritvof our national at-
H. .t the present time, I have been induced
■ ;re to the world. I give it, as nearly as
■ - Lie, in bis own words :
' When the bold action of our Congress, in
a";*',ing the independence of the colonies, be
cs/re known to the world, we were laughed
ei scoffed at as silly, presmnptuom rebels,
. om British grenadiers would soon tame into
mission; but, undauntedly, we prepared to
I'-ke good what we hud said. The keen en
nter came, and the world knows the re-
It is easy and pleasant for those of the
-sent generation to talk and write of the
gs of Seventy-Six, but they little know—
"her can thpy imagine—the trials and suf
-rhigs of those fearful days And there is {
thing that 1 much fear, and that is, that
ti.e American people do not properiv appro
bate the Loon of freedom. Party sjiirit is
iy-ariy becoming stronger and stronger, and,
it is checked, will, at no distant day,
'imiermine and tumble into ruins the noble
; -RL-tnre of tie Republic. Let roe Lnsteu to
n narrative.
" From the opening of the IP-volution, we
f rienced all phases of fortune —now good
■ Row ill, at one time victorious, and at un
-r conquered. The darkest period we had,
- hfer, was. I think, when Washington, af
""sreral reverses, retreated to Valley F-rge,
; he resolved to puss the winter of '77
1 I have often seen the tears coursing
our dear old commander's care-worn
'ds as he would he conversing with a eon
- 'al officer about the condition of ids poor
' s You have doubt less heard the story
Washington going to the thicket to pray.
' itisuot only true, but he used often to
to"in secret for aid from that (ion the in
r'i°::l.on of whose divine providence alone
"• 't us safely through those dark days of
'•Liuiilatioti.
bhie day, I remember it well—the chilly
7 whistled and how led through the leaf
"" treei! , though the sky was cloudless ami
su n shining brightly—lie remained in his
Triors nearly the whole of tiie afternoon,
hen he came out, I noticed that
3 -face was a shade paler than usual, and that
-'te seemed to be something on his mind of
7 4ban ordinary importance. Returning just
1 dusk, he despatched ati orderly to the
: 'wf of the officer 1 mentioned, who was
f ntl_v in attendance. After a preliminary
which lasted some half an hour,
.gton, gazing upon his companion with
ange look of dignity which he alone
- j command, said to the latter :
'' n °t know whether it was owing to
1 anxiety of n) y mind, or what, but this af
•' M, 1 was sitting at tills very table, eu
preparing a dispvtch, something in !
■ a partment seemed to disturb me. Look
. * u l'. I beheld, standing exactly opposite
a angularly beautiful female. So aston
' *"s 1— tor 1 had given strict orders not
, '''"'orbed —tliat it was some moments
~.7 '°ond language to impiire the cause
l' r - sf 'iee. A second, third, and even a
tevpj ' :oe^l( ' J repeat the question, but re
' an * W( " r from my mysterious visitor
•7..' Jai ' a ®''gbt raising of her eyes. By
Dtr .iT d stran k e sensation spreading
Kfii f me * would have risen, but the riv
'be being before me rendered vo
ftpossible. I essayed ouce more to ad-
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
dress her, hut my tongue hud become paral
yzed. A new influence, mysterious, potent,
irresistable, took possession of me. All 1
could do was to gaze s'cadilv, vacantly, at my
I unknown visitant. Gradually, the surround
ing atmosphere seemed as though becoming
; filled with sensations, and grow luminous, Ev
! erythtng about mo appeared torarify, the mys
-1 tenons visitor herself becoming more airy, and
I yet even more distinct to my sight than be
fore. I now began to feel as oue dying, or ra
ther to experience the sensations which 1 have
sometimes imagiued accompany dissolution I
did not think, I did not reason, I did not
move; al! were alike impossible. I was only
conscious of gazing, fixedly, vacantly, at my
companion.
" ' I'resentlj I heard a voice, saying, " Son
j of the Republic, look and learn!" while, at the
same time, my visitor extended her arm and
forefinger ea-tward!y. I now beheld a heavy
: white vapor at some distance, rising upon the
fold. This gradually dissipated, and 1 looked
upon'a strange scene. Before me lay stretch
ed out in oue vast plain all the countries of
the world—Europe, Asia, Africa, and Amer
ica. 1 saw rolling and tossing between En
i rope and America the billows of the Atlantic,
j and between Asia and America lay the l'aci
| lie. " Son of the Republic," said the same ;
; mysterious voice as before, "look and learn !"
" ' At that moment I beheld a dark, shad
owy being like an angel, standing or rather
floating, in midair between Europe and Atner
; iea. Dipping water out in the hollow of
j each hand, he sprinkled some upon America
with his right hand, while he cast upon Eu-
I rope some with his left hand. Immediately
a dark cloud arose from each of these coun
tries, and joined in mid ocean. Eor a while it
i remained stationary, and then moved siowlv
westward, until it enveloped America in it
murky folds. Sharp fl ashes of lightning now
gleamed throughout it at intervals, and I
heard the smothered groans and cries of the
American people.
" ' A second time the angel dipped front the
ocean, and sprinkled it out as before. The
dark cloud was then drawn back to the ocean,
: into whose heaving waves it stiak from view.
A third time I heard the mysterious voice,
| saying, " Son of the Republic, look and learn!'
" ' 1 cast my eyes upon America, and be
held villages, towns, aid cities spring up, one
i after another, until the whole land, from the
Atlantic to tie Pacific was dotted with them.
Again I heard the mysterious voice say, " Son
* of the Republic, the end of a century cometh
look and learu."
" ' At this, the dark, shadowy angei turned
his face southward, and from Africa i saw an
ill omened spectre approaching our land. It
flitted slowly and heavily over every village,
town, and city of the latter, the inhabitants of
which presently set themselves in battle array,
oue against the other. As 1 continued look
Ing, 1 saw a bright angel, on whose brow rest
ed a cr.nvn of light, on wh eh was traced the
word UNION*, bearing the American flag, which
he placed between the divided tiulious, and
j said, " Remember, ye are brethren!'
" ' Instantly, the inhabitants, casting from
: them their weapons, became friends once more,
' and united around the national standard. And
' again 1 heard the mystirious voice saying,
"Son of the Republic, the second peril is pass
ed— look and leant."
" 'And I beheld the villages, towns, and
cities of America increased ill size and num
j her, til! at last lhey covered all the land from
I the Atlantic to the Pacific, and their inhabi
tants became as countless as the stars in Heav
ier), or as the sand on the sea-shore. And again
I I beared the mysterious voice, saying, "Sou
of the R"publie,thc eud of a century cometh—•
; lock anil learn."
" 'At this, the dark, shadowy angel placed
a trumpet to his mouth, and blew three dis
tinct blasts, and taking water from the ocean,
spriukled it out upon Europe, Ada, and Af
rica.
"'Then my eyes looked upon a fearful
scene. Thorn each of those countries nroe
thick black clouds, which soon joined into
one ; and through this mass gleamed a dark
red light, by which I saw hordes of armed
men, who, moving with the cloud, marched
by land and sailed by sea to America, which
I country was presently enveloped in the vol
i time of the cloud. And I dimly saw the vast
armies devastate the whole country, and pil
lage and burn villages, cities, and towns that
I had beheld springing up. A my ears lis
tened to the thundering of cannon, clashing of
•.words, and shouts and cries of the millions iti
mortal combat, I again heard the mysterious
voice, saying, "Sou of the Republic, look and
! learn."
| " When the voice had ceased the dark,
shadowv angel placed his trumpet once more to
his mouth, and blew a long, fearful blast.
" ' Instantly a light, as from a thousand
suns, shone down from above me, and pierced
and broke into fragments the datk cloud which
enveloped America. At the same moment
I saw the angel upon whose forchea 1 still
shone UNION, and who bore our national flag
in one hand and a sword in the other, descend
from Heaven, attended by legions of bright
spirits. These immediately joined the inhabi
tants of America, who, I preceivcd, were well
nigh overcome, but who, immediately taking
courage again, closed up their broken ranks
and renewed the battle. Again, amid the
fearful noise of the conflict, 1 heard the myste
rious voice, saying, "6011 of the Republic,
look and learn."
" ' As the voice ceased, the shadowy angel,
for the last time, dipped water from the ocean
and sprinkled it upon America. Instantly
the dark cloud rolled back, together with
the armies it had brought, leaving the inhabi
tants of the laud victorious. There ouce more
I betieled the villages.towns, and cities spring
ing up where they had been before, while tlie
bright angel, planting the azure standard be
had brought iu the midst of them, cried in a
loud vo : ce to the inhabitants : " W hi!e the
stars remain and the heaveus send down dews
1 upon the earth, so long shall the Republic
1 last r
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. GOODRICH.
! " ' And, taking trotn his brow tlie crown,
on which still blazed the word UNION, he
placed it upon the standard, while all the peo
ple, kneeling down, said, " Araeu !"
" ' The scene instantly began to fade and
dissolve, and I at last saw nothing bnt the
rising, curling white vapor I had first beheld.
This also disappearing, I found myself once
more gazing upon my mysterious visitor, who,
in that same mysterious voice I had heard
before, said : " Son of the Republic, what
yon have seen is thus interpreted : three
perils will come upon the Republic. The
most fearful i 3 the second, passing which, the
whole world united shall uover be able to pre
vail agaiust her. Let every child of) the
Republic learn to live for his God, his Land,
anil Union !"
" ' With these words the figure vanished.
I started from my seat, and felt that I had
been shown the birth, progress, and destiny
of tlie Republic of the United States. In UN
ION she will- have her strength, in DISUNION
her destruction '
" Such, my friend," concluded the venera
ble narrator, " were the words I heard from
Washington's owu lips, and America will do
well to profit by them. Let her remember
that in UNION she has her strength, in DISUN
; lON her Destruction."
Call a Man.
Any one who is disposed to try a laugh will
do well to read on :
John Jackson was a very industrious, hard
working man, of twenty three years. Being
the eldest child and the only son, lie had al
ways remained at home, assisting his father
upon the farm. John was much respected by
every one in the neighborhood, and many a
bright-eyed girl had secretly thought that she
would like to change her name to Mrs.
John Jackson. But John was no " ladies'
man." The fact was, John was very i ashfal.
lie would ratio r hoe potatoes all day liiau under
go the ceremony of an introduction lo a young
lady. Not that John disliked the dear crea
tures ; far from it. We believe that he, in
common with all bashful, well meaning men,
entertained the very highest respect and ad
miration f>r them. And this, 110 doubt, was
the principal cause for his bu£ufuluess. He
felt that they were superior beings, and that
he was unworthy to associate with them upon
terms of equality. But we "cannot stop to
moralize.
Nancy Clark W3> the daughter of a respect
able farmer,whose lands adjoined the Jackson
! farm. Xauey was a pretty, sauuey little witch,
and she liked John Jackson.- When they
were children thev attended the same school,
and as lie was a lew years her senior, was us
ually her champion in the childish disputes that
arose, and her companion in going and return
ing. At last John became so much of a young
man as to be kept from school. John discov
ered too, tiiat lie had been growing iu stature,
and it seemed as if lie had been growing out
•ot shape. His feet and legs appeared very
' awkward ; he didn't know what to do with his
■ hands ; his face pained him, and taking all in
all, lie was inclined to think lie was uot aiorc
than half put together.
Now the tiuth was, John Jackson was real
ly a fine looking young man, and nothing but
his admiration of Nancy could have suggested
' anv such foolish thoughts about himself.
As novelists say, it was a lovely day iu Au
gust. The heavens were clear, selene and bcaii
tilul, the trees were laden with golden fruit,
and the beautiful buds twittered their songs of
love iu the branches. Earth—(there —we've
slid down to earth once more ; such lofty
flights—l hey make our head dizzy.) We were
about to say that " earth had yielded her hotiu
tifu! harvest ot a year's grass, and clover, and
I honeysuckles, which the noble yeomanry of
* Ciiesterville hadgurned wil Liu their storehous
. es" —but upon a second thought have conclud
ed to word it thus The farmers of Ches
terville were done haying."
! John Jackson's s.ster had a quilting that af
> | ternooii. had.gone to " Heath's
> Mill" to get some wheat ground, and John
was left to repair some tools, to be ready on
1 the morrow to commence mowing the meadow
grass. R.uddeniy it occurred to John that if
he remained about the house in the afternoon,
. he would be called in at tea time and required
to do the honors of the table. To avoid this
he quietly shouldered his scy the and stole away
to the meadow, half a mile distant, fully resolv
ed that he would not leave there until it was
" so dark that he could uot see to mow, aud
1 avoid seeing the girls.
; j The meadow was surrounded on tall sides by
| a thick forest, which effectually shut out what
i little breeze there might chance lo bestirring.
, The sun poured iis rays as though the little
> meadow was the focus point where the heat
was concentrated. John mowed and sweat —
i sweat and mowed, until he was obliged to sit
down and cool off. Then it occurred to John
1 that if he took off his pauts, he might be much
more comfortable. There could be no iuipro
p:ietv in it, tor he was entirely concealed from
observation, and there was uot the slightest
I reason to suppose that lieconld be seen by any
, j person.
So John stripped off, and with no cover save
his linen—commonly called shirt—lie resumed
his woik. He was just congratulating hnn
-1 self upon the good time he was having, and the
lucky escape lie had made from meeting with
the girls, when he chanced to disturb a hnge
black snake, a genuiue twister with a white
ring around hi> neck.
John was no coward,but was mortally afraid
of a suake. " Self preservation" was the first
- " passage" that flashed upon John's mind.—
1 Droppiug his scythe and spinning round like a
top. lie was ready to strike a 2:40 gait, w hen
• at that moment the snake was near enough to
hook his crooked teeth into John's shirt just
: above the hem. With a tremeudous spring
he started off with the speed of a locoaotive.
1 His first jump took the snake clear from the
; ground, and as John stole a hasty glance over
s i his shoulder, he was horrified to find the rep
: I tile securely fastened to the extremity of his
1 garment, while the speed with which he rash
" REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANT QUARTER.'
Ed forward kept the serpent extended at nu an- j
gle of ninety degrees with his body.
Here was a quandary. I f lie stopped the
snake would coil about his body and squeeze j
hitn to death ; if he coutinued the race, he
must soon fall from sheer exhaustion. On he
flew, scarce daring to think bow nis dreadful j
race was to end. Instinctively he had taken
the direction of home, a feeling of security
came over liitn. Suddenly flashed across his ;
mind the true state of affairs—his father gone j
—the quilting, and worst of all, tlie girls !
This new hftrror sent tlie blood back, curdling j
| about his heart, and be came to a dead halt. |
The ucxt moment lie felt the body of hecold,
clammy monster in contact with his bare legs,
his tail creeping around tlieni iu a sort of coz
ening manner, as though his snakeship only
mediated a little fun, byway of tickling Johu '
upon the knees.
This was too much for human endurance.— !
With a yell, sueli a man never utters save when
in mortal terror, poor Johu again set forward
at break-neck speed, and once more had the
pleasure of seeing the snake resume his liori
i zontal position, somewhat after the fashiou of
the tail of a comet.
On, 011 llicy flew ! John forgot the quilt
■ ing, forgot the girls, forgot everything but the
suake.
His active exercise, (he paid particular at
tention to bis running) together with the cx- |
cesr-ive heat, had brought on the uose-blecd,
I and as lie ran, ears erect and head thrown
back, his chili, throat, and shirt-bosom were
stained with the flowing stream.
His first wild shriek had startled the qaiit- |
ers, and forth they rushed, wondering if sonic ;
: mad Indian was not prowl ng about. By this j
tiuie John was within a lew rods of the barn, 1
still running at tlie t<p of his speed, his head
turned so that he might keip one eye on the.
snake, and with the other observe what course
' he must take. The friendly barn now con
cealed him from the sight of the girls. He
knew they were in the yard, having caught a
, glimpse of them as they rushed from the
liou.-e. A few more bounds, and lie would lie
iu their midst. For a moment modes - )' over
j came fear, and ouce more lie halted. Ti.e
| snake, evidently pleased with his rapid trans
portation, manifested his gratitude by attempt
ing to enfohl the legs of our hero within his
! embrace.
With an explosive " ouch!" and urged for
ward by " circumstances over which he had
no control," poor John rushed on. The next
moment he was iu full view of the girls, and
as he turned the corner of the barn, the snake
came round with a whiz, somewhat after the
fashion of a horse-whip.
Having reached the baru-yard, to his dis
may lie found the bars up. But time was too
precious to be wasted iu letting down bars.
Gathering all his strength, he bounded into
the air, suake ditto, and as he alighted 011 the
; other side, his suakeship's tail cracked across
the upper bar, snapping like au India crack
cr.
Again John set forward, now utterly re
gardless of the preseuce of the girls, for the
1 extra tickle from the snake's tail, as he leaped
the bars, banished all his bashfulness and mod
esty, and again he had the pleasure of finding
• the snake in a straight line, drawing steadily
at the hem of his solitary garment.
1 The house now became the centre of at
traction, and around it he revolved with tlie 1
speed of thought. Four times in each revo- 1
■ lution, as he turned the corner, his snakeship
, i came around with a ichi: that was quite re
; freshing.
' | While describing the third circle, as he
' came hear the group of wonder-struck girls,
1 without removing his gaze from the snake, he
• managed to cry ont: —
" CAT.!. A MAN !"
The next moment he had whisked out of
sight, and qnick as thought reappeared upon
the other side of the house :
" CALL A MAN !"'
And away he whirled again, turning the
corner so rapidly that the ichiz of the snake
sounded half way between a low whistle and
j the repeated pronunciation of double-o.
! Before either of the girls had stirred from
their tracks he had performed another revolu
tion :
" CALL A MAN !"
Away he flew once more, but his strength
, wa< rapidly failing. Nancy Clark was the
. first to recover her presence of mind, and
' seizing u hoop pole, she took her statiou near
[ the corner of the house, and as John reap
peared she brought it upon the snake with a
I force that broke his back, and his hold upon
John's nether garment at the same time.
John rushed into the house and to his room, ,
, and at tea time appeared in his best Suuday j
suit, but little the worse for the race, and to j
all appearance entirely cured of bashfulness.
, That night he walked home with Nancy Clark.
The next New Near they were married, and
, : now. whenever John feels inclined to laugh at j
. ! his wife's hoops or anv other peculiarity, she ,
! has only to say, " Call a man," when he in
stantly sobers down.
FeS" In Bangor, Me., there resides a certain
William S , a teamster, who is noted for
bis jolity, and also for keeping late hours, as
1 he usually goes home at 2 o'clock in the morn
i ing. Well, one stormy night about a year ago
1 William concluded to go home early, and, ac
cordingly, lie arrived at his house at just mid
: night. In answer to his knock, his mother
opened a wiudow and inquired :
[ " "Who is there
" William," was the reply.
" No," said she, "yon can't come that over
, me ; my William won't be home for two hours
yet."
Poor Bill had to wait till his usual time.
Jfcsf- " Father," said a lady of the new ;
school to her indulgent spouse, as he resumed
: his pipe after supper, "you must buy our dear
■ Georgianna an English grammar and spelling
- book, she has gone through her French, Latin
3 aud Greek, music, drawing and danciDg, and
now she must commence English."
THREE CHANCES FOR A WlFE.— When a man
has three chances for a wife it is a bard mis
chance if he should fail. The following is acase
which might have occured " down East," but
it is doubtful if any similar occurrence was
ever knowu in any other part of the world.
" I ouce courted a gal by the name of
Deb Hawkins. I made up my miud to get
married. " Well while we were going to the j
deacou's 1 stepped iuto a mnd puddle,and spnt
tered the mud all over Deb lluwkiu s new
gown, made out of her grauduiotber's old |
chintz petticoat. Well wheu we got to the
deacon's he asked Deb if she would have me \
for her lawful wedded husband ?
" No," says she,
" Reason ?" says I.
" Why," says she, " I've takeu a dislikiu'
to you."
Well, it was all up then, but I gave her a
string of beads, a few kisses, some other 110 j
lions aud made it all up with her ; —so we
went up to the deacon's a sccoud time. I was
determined to come up with her this time, so s
when the deacon asked me if I would take her
for my lawful wedded wife, says I
" No, I shan't do no such thing."
" Why," says Dob, " what ou airth is the
matter ?"
" Why," says I, " I have takeu a dislikin' to
you uow."
Well, then it was all over again ; but 1
gave her a new apron and a few other triuk
ets, and we went up again to get married.—
We expected that we would be tied so fast
i that all nature couldn't separate us ; aud '
when we asked the deacon if he would mar
-1 ry us, he said:
" No, 1 shan't do any such thing."
" Why, what on airth is the reason ?" says
we.
" Why," says he, " I've taken a dislikin' to
both of you."
Deb burst out crying, the deacon burst out
scoidin' and I burst out laughin,' and such a
set of busters you never did see.'
THE LITTLE ONF.S. —Do you ever think hew
much work a child does in a day ? How, from
sunrise to sunset, the dear little feet patter
around—to us—so aimlessly. Climbing up
here, kneeling down there, running to another
place, but never still. Twisting and turning,
rolling and reaching and doubling,as if testiug
every bone and muscle for future uses. It is
very curious to watch it. One who does so
may well understand the deep breathing,©! the
rosy little sleeper, as with one arm tossed over
its curly head, it prepares for the next day's
gymnastics.—Tireless through the day, till
that time comes, as the maternal love that so
patiently accomodates itself, hour after hour,
to its thousand wants and caprices, real or
fancied.
A busy creature is a little child. To be
looked upon with awe as well as delight, as
its clear eye looks trustingly into faces that to
God and man have essayed to wear a mask.—
As it sits down in its little chair to ponder,
precociously, over the white lie you thought it ;
•• funny "to tell it. As rising and leaning on
i your knees, it says, thoughtfully, in a tone
that should provoke a tear, not a smile—" if
I don't believe it." A lovely aud yet a fear
ful thing is that little child.
THE YOUNG WIFE —The marriage of mid
i die age is companionship ; the second marri
! a?e of maturity, perhaps the reparation of a
mistake, perhaps the palid transcrip of a buri
| ed joy ; but the marriage of the loving young
; is by the direct blessing of God, and is the re
-1 alization of the complete ideal of a lovely hu
man life. liCt tliose who have found that pearl
hold fast and keep it safe. Within the ('oor
where love dwells no evil thing should enter ;
and the lovimr bride, who would be the happy
wife, must specially guard agaiust her own im
patience aud despair when the lover is merging
into the husband, the flatterer into the frieud.
HONEY SOAP. —Take of smiles, soft answers,
tolerance, temper and tact, equal parts. Mix
well, and place ready for use to your husband's
hand. The above will be found a valuable
recipe for removing nil roughness and irritation
for giving smoothness and softness, and for
obviating all the unpleasant effects of domestic
friction.
An Eastern establishment that has been
! largely engaged in the manufacture ofßalmo
rai .-kirts is uow employing all its hands iu
turning out a new pattern of " red white and
blue." This skirt no doubt, will meet w.th
great favor among the ladies of the north where
theory uow is "show your colors !"
ftiir A lazy fellow begged alms, saying
that he could not find bread for his family.
" Nor I," replied an industrious mechanic, " I
am obliged to work for it."
jfey Be not penny-wise ; riches-have wings
and sometimes they fly away >of themselves,
■ sometimes they must be set flying to bring
1 in more.
1 m
S&- A word ol kindness is seldom spoken
in vain—it. is a seed which even dropped by
chance spring up a flower.
A gloomy theology is more to be condenied
: thau skepticism, for while this ou!y doubts the
true, the other confirms the false.
Life is a beautiful night, iu which, as
some stars go down, others rise.
The lovliest faces are to be seen by
the moonlight, when one sees half with the
j imagination.
1
ftgy lii these stirring times many men are
making up for lack in their early training,
by traiuing night aud day.
When you dispute with a fool, he is
sure to be similarly employed.
VOL. XXIr. NO. 7.
(gbutntional Department.
I From the " Educator."']
The Old Way.
I well remember my first teacher. It was
in those good old times when grammar and
geography-blackboards andmeutul arithmetics
were almost unknown in the country schools,
' that I was first initiated iuto school life.
The teacher was a man rather past middle
age—hnd evidently been loug in the business
—was very popular as a teacher, and I never
knew of hearing any complaiut.save that about
twice a year he was in the habit of laying
aside all the cares and auxieties of bosiuess,
and taking a glorious " spree " as it was call
ed. This, in those times, however, was not
considered sufficiently censurable to render a
man incompetent to teach the youug ideas how
Ito shoot, lie was, ou the whole, an amiable
man, and universally esteemed as a gentle
man, aud we looked upon Dim with consider
able reverence. The 'lntroduction' aud
' English Reader' which were our principal
reading books, he had thoroughly committed
to memory, (1 suppose from having listened to
the reading of them so often.) He would sit
at his desk while we were rattling away at
reading, (which we did standing up iu a row
I on the floor), and when we miscalled a word
we were suddenly reminded of it by the teach
er'- distiuct enunciation of the right word.—
This gave us au exalted opiuiouof his wonder
ful knowledge. We received no further in
stiuctiou than this in reading. We consider
ed that rapidity of utterance was the ue plus
ultra of a good reader, aud hence each one's
; ambition was to excel in this particular. Rut
our teacher's astonishing kuowledge of reading,
was fully equalled iu the ciphering line. 'Ciph
ering" was the great busiuess of the schoolroom
in those days. Alter reading and writing were
over in the ruorniug, which only occupid a lit
tle less than au hour, the rest of the forenoon
was spent at our ' sums 'as wo termed them.
It seemed as though our teacher had each par
ticular ' sum ' engraven upon his mind, for on
taking up our slates, (which was the fashion)
he would, quick as thought, mauifest his pro
found kuowledge of the matter, by robbing
out with his forefinger, that which was erro
neous, which was the sigual for us to try again.
Thus the young idea, instead of being taught
to shoot, was left) to shoot itself. The term
teacher was uot so applicaple in those times as
" schoolmaster," which was the title by which
he, whom I have called our teacher was kuown.
Ho was emphatically a ' master'—the ' rod '
beiug oue of the principal articles of furniture,
aud we were compelled to yield as implicit
obedience to the stern mandate of him who
wielded it, as though we were acting under u
military leader. The 'master' was always
grave and steru in the preseuee of the scholars
and never was known to smile iu the school
room. This was uot " rendering the school
room very attractive,'' which at this day is
considered so essential. I have written this
to show the contrast between the past and
present and hope that it may do good.
SPECIMENS OF ENGLISH ORTHOGRAPHY- xt
VARIOUS PERIODS. —The Lord's Prayer, iu the
time of Henry VI. (as appears by a largo
manuscript vellum Bible in the Oxford library,
said to have belonged to the king, aud to have
been given by hira to the Carthusians in Lon
don), was rendered thus —
" Oure fadir, that art in hevenes, halewid
be thi name, thi kingdom come to thee, be thi
wil don in eerthe, as in hevene, give to us this
day oure breed over othre substance, and for
give to us our dettis, as we forgiven oure det
tooris, and lede us not into temptation, but
delivere us from ivel. Amen.
In the translation of Wickliffe, 1380, giv
en in Bagster's " Euglish Ilexalpa,'' it is ren
dered thus—
" Our fadir that art in heuenes halowid bo
thi name, thi kingdom come to, be thi wille
don in erthe as in heuerie, geue to us this day
oure breed ouir other substance, and forgeue
to our dettonris, and lede us not iuto tempta
tion : but delyuer us from yuel, amen."
About a hundred aud fifty years after thin,
in the first translation of the New Testament
printed in England executed by William Tyn
dale, in 1520, (and reprinted by Bagster, it
was rendered thus—
" 0 oure father which arte in heven, hal
owed be thy name. Let thy kingdom come.
Thy wyll be fulfilled, us well in crth, as hit ys
in heven. Geve vs this day our dayly breade.
And forgeve vs oure treaspasev, even as we
forgeve them which trcaspases vs. Leede vs
not iuto temptation, but delyvre vs from jveil,
Amen."
Authorized version, 1611
Our father which art iu heaun, hallowed ba
thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will bee
done, in earth as it is in heauen. (iiuc us this
day our dayly bread. Aud forgiueour debts,
as we forgiue oar debters. Aud leade u not
into temptation, but deliuer vs from euil : for
thine is the kingdoiue, aud the power, aud the
glory, for ever, Auien.
-
A GREAT THOUGHT. —There are worse thing*
than war. Deterioation aud moral coward
; ice are worse than death ; and when it be
comes necessary to die for great truths aud
principles, how sweet and how beautiful is the
sacrifice. I.et no one imagine that this is our
I day of deepest darkness. Twenty millions of
people rising as oue man, thrilled by oue irn
: pulse, swept by oue spirit of self sacrifice,
holding right and justice to be dearer than
lite, and that life for these may be and shall
be offered up, will appear in history as the
brightest omen of the century. Civilization
and free government are not to fail here, but
to come forth moro glorious and secure from
trial. This is the clear poiuting of the finger
of Goo, and for this he strikes the awful hour
and summons men to their duty. Meanwhile
we hope that from the*a!tars of religion will
be breathed the holiest selectest intlueuce into
the cause of constitutional liberty as thecauso
of Gon.— Rtligiau* Magazine.