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JOB PRINTING of every kind in Plain andFan ,v , iv tew words with her seemed to satisfy '' "L >ut one and all accosted her with the n,.'. fq ro i wful kindness, as if deeply o v evt by Ltt>r unfortunate position. There E. O. GOODRICH, Publisher. VOLUME XXV. was a brief inquiry after her health, an ad monition to submit implicitly to the prison regulations, and consider them all for her good, and a declaration that they should take her back again to their service at the expiration of her sentence if she behaved well. Jacobs made suitable responses and very humble acknowledgments ; but one thing struck me as remarkable, and it was never omitted in one of their visits—they never went without asking if she had come to a proper repentance of her great sin yet, and Jacobs as invariably answered, " I'm afraid 1 have not." This was so regularly done that 1 at last concluded it must have some religious signification known only to the Jews. The conduct of the Josephs toward their convicted kitchen-maid was certainly more amiable than Gentiles gen erally show in like circumstances. But we matrons and assistants soon began to think that the cause might be found in Jacobs herself. A more civil or submissive creat ure no prison officer could desire to have in charge. In fact, Jacobs required little care; she scrubbed the stone floors, made the rough bags, was locked up at night, and even attended the chapel with the same un murmuring humility. Jacobs gave no trouble ; and anybody accustomed to look after female convicts will have an idea of what a rare jewel she must have appeared iri our eyes, and what a contrast she pre sented to the other women of the ward. I ain not going to enter on the woes of an assistant-matron, but the unexampled good behavior of my new prisoner, while it spar ed my nerves and temper, could not but gain my best regards. 1 positively liked Jacobs before she had been a fortnight un der my charge, and the poor Jewess seem ed to return my good-will. There was no trouble she wouldn't have taken, no haste she wouldn't have made to serve me ; she ran without being called, fetched and car ried without being bidden; and when allow ed to clean my room, as a reward for good conduct, because it conferred additional lib erty, she made everything look as bright and polished as if it had been new. J was pleased, of course ; but cleaning and scour ing seemed to be Jacob's hobby—an uncom mon one for a Jewess—and still more rare among the inhabitants of our wards. All the time she could spare front prison work was devoted to sweeping, scrubbing, and polishing up her own cell in every corner. Walls, floors, and even the ceiling got the benefit of her exertions : she reached them with an agility which nobody could expect from her squat figure. Almost the entire ward was indebted to her in this way, which brings me to the only troublesome inclina tion Jacobs ever showed. There was no such thing as getting her to rest or remain in a cell more than two or three weeks ; once it was fairly scoured out, and there was nothing more for Jacobs to clean, not a speck of dust left on its bare walls or in its four corners,she became uneasy,restless, always imploring leave to change with her next neighbor. Prison-rules do not recog nize such humors : but, as in the working of every system, rules will be relaxed and modified according to character and circum stances,so in female convict establishments, the good-will of officei-s, the consideration of directors, and sometimes the general de sire for as much of a quiet life as can he got in such places, admit of small matters and allowances beyond the strict regula tions. Jacobs seemed to understand the fact, and took her measures accordingly.— The only request she ever made to directors, lady-superintendent, or chaplain—the outy privilege she ever coaxed from me,in return for her spontaneous services—the only ap proach to intimacy with her fellow-prisoners she ever tried, was for leave to exchange her cell. There was a report among us—l know not how it originated—to the effect that the Josephs had made interest in her favor with the prison authorities. What ever the influence brought to bear on the case might be, certain it was that Jacobs's request was always granted ; she got leave to exchange. I could not be as obdurate as the directors to a: creature who served me with such zeal ; and as for her fellow-pris oners, though by no means inclined to assist or gratify each other generally, they were somehow willing enough to oblige Jacobs. In short, before half the time of her sen tence elapsed, she had made the round of the ward • and at last requested, with her usual pertinacious humility, an immediate transfer to No. 49, the last cell at the ex treme end of the corridor, and the only one she had not tried. No. 49 was indeed a sort of forgotten or unused cell, partly because it was out of the way, and partly because there was a dark tradition attached to it. I must tell you that my ward formed part of what was called the old prison—a division of the building much more ancient than the rest, which, in former times, had been appropri ated to male convicts, and a noted burglar was said to have escaped public execution bv hanging himself in that very cell. Such stories never can be got to die out, partic ticularly iij prisons ; but it was hushed up as far as possible, to save the officers troub le in case the cell should be wanted. Thai did not happen, to my great satisfaction,and No, 49 was left in its emptiness till Jacobs took a fancy to occupy it. Whether she had heard the tale or not I had no certainty; it was very likely that some old inhabitant of the prison would soon make her awarp of it. I advised the Jewess against her meditated exchange, told her she could not expect to have another, after going round the ward as she had done, warned her that No. 49 was the most solitary, and probably, from its long emptiness, coldest of all the cells; but nry advice and warnings were all in vain. Humbly obstinate as ever in Jacobs would go, and in she went. I de termined in my wrath that she should not make another flitting in a hurry, whatever recollections of the burglar might arise.— But to my agreeable surprise Jacobs ap peared to think nothing about him ; she scrubbed and cleaned and polished No. 49 with as much energy as she had shown in her former apartments—if possible,l thought more. The ward-women were unanimous that she know all about the burglar, but in the cell Jacobs remained, as if perfectly satisfied at last ; and when nearly a month had passed away I congratulated myself on the prospect of no more removals. In the meantime the Josephs kept pool ing to see her at her grate,chiefly the moth er and daughters ; indeed, I observed that the gentlemen of- the family, having doubt less more business on their hands,were but rare visiters, particularly the son Samuel. TO WAND A, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA.. MARCH 9, 1865. The dialogue was always the same,conclud ing with the accustomed inquiry regarding her repentance, which Jacobs continued to answer in the negative ; and it appeared to me that the Josephs heard that reply with increased sorrow every day. Their ex-kitchen maid did not seem to share their grief; she made the accustomed response humbly and calmly, as if certain that the requisite amount of contrition would come in good time ; and I could not help think ing it a sort of Jewish penance which made her take to the scrubbing and scouring of her out-of-the-way cell more resolutely after every visit. Things had been going on in that fashion for some time. It was mid-winter, and, be sides being unusually cold, a season of pe culiar concern to us matrons and assistants. Whoever has had to do with female convict establishments will be aware that, in the dark December, or rather the Christmas and New-Year times, there is always a dis position to small riots among the inhabit ants of the cells. Whether it arises from the remembrance of former festivities, con trasting with the monotony of prison-life, or to some occult influence of the season acting on the spirits and tempers of those difficult subjects, I cannot say, but certain I am, from woeful experience, that more windows are then broken, more blankets and sheets are torn up, more fietce battles fought, and more women carried off scream ing to the dark cells, than at any other per iod of the year. We had nothing of the kind as yet, and were hoping to get over the troublesome time in comparative quiet; but increased watchfulness was neverthe less considered nedfessary, and those who did the night-duty were enjoined to make the round of the wards more frequently than usual. A dreary business it was for the assistant-matrons to whom the work generally fell to pace about all the long winter night through those gloomy stone passages, wrapped in a cloak, and with a lantern in hand, listening for every sound, looking in at the inspection-hole above every cell-door, and anxiously wishing for the six o'clock bell, which would relieve their watch. I was on that duty one night about the middle of December. 1 had made the stip ulated rounds, and found every thing quiet, when it occurred to me, about three o'clock in the morning, the weariest hour in the whole watch, that all night long 1 had not looked into or even approached No. 49. The cell, as I have said, was out of the way ; there was a sort of bend or angle in the passage which led to its door, and might have suited its ancient use—namely the condemned cell of the old prison. Jacobs had never given any trouble, and was cer tainly not a breaking-out subject. 1 felt it no neglect of duty to leave her alone from hour to hour,while all the rest of the wards were duly inspected ; but for regulations' sake, 1 felt that I ought to see the door of No. 49, as this was almost my last round. Back 1 went in its direction, and let me re mark that I had on a pair of list-slippers, which were thought perfect treasures to a matron on the night-watch for their noise lcssuess ; but judge of my amazement and confusion wlieu, on softly approaching the cell of my model prisoner, 1 caught a low rasping sound, as if something were being done with a file of chisel. There was a faint light, too ; I shaded nn r lantern, and looked through the inspection hole. The gas was burning very low, and crouched in the corner, with her face close to the floor, but working with both hands, and a small bit of iron, as if to widen a crevice she had made between it and the wall, I saw the hitherto quiet and most manageable Jacobs. She had not heard, and couldn't see me ; and, great as my surprise was, my curios ity to know what she could be about, or in tend by making that ere vice, was still great er. I stood for a minute or two watching iter work, and soon perceived that the ob ject was to get her fingers in to get some thing out. The effort seemed desperate,for her hands were scratched and bleeding in many places by coming in contact with the sharp edges of tne stone and the broken bit of iron ; but at length she succeeded in getting two fingers into the crevice, and out with them came a string of beads so brilliant that they flashed like so many drops of lire in the faint gaslight. " What on earth are you doing-, Jacobs?'' said I, speaking out of my own astonish ment ; and the Jewess turned round with a far less amazed look than mine must have beGu, " You have caught me, miss," she said,in her customary low and humble tone. " I knew you would ; but you won't be hard on me ; you are a merciful lady ; the Jos ephs will make you any present you like ; and maybe you would be good enough to take this," she continued, coming close to the locked door, and presenting to me, through the inspection hole, a small but very brilliant pin. " No, Jacobs," said I, " I will not take any bribe from you, and I want nothing from the Josephs ; but I want to know what you have been doing up at this hour in your cell, and what was that you took out of the crevice between the wall and the floor ?" " I'll tell you all, miss,and leave my ease to your charity," said Jacobs : "thank my stars, the women are too far off to hear a word." I knew that was correct, and it made me stand at the inspection-hole to hear her tell, in the dead silence of the win ter night, one of the most singular tales of device and endurance that I ever heard. The string of - brilliant beads was an old fashioned diamond necklace, valued at I forget how many thousands. It had been sold or pawned—Jacobs would not decid edly say which, but I believe the latter—to a grand-uncle of the Josephs. Some inti mation of the diamonds and their wherea bouts reached a noted gang of burglars, for they made an attack on his premises one night, and carried off, amoug other spoils of less value, the precious necklace. The grand-uncle had pursued them with all the forpe of law, and with all the power of riches. Many of the gang were tal;en, and among them the leader,in whose possession the diamonds were believed to remain. But no bribe, 110 promise that the Jewish attor ney employed for the purpose could offer, would induce him to give the smallest in formation regarding the place of their con cealment, The man was a strange and des perate character,and owed the firm a grudge on account of a brother in the same trade, whom they had been instrumental in bring ing to justice for an unsuccessful endeavor REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER. after those very diamonds. He stood out stoutly against every persecution. The Jew should get no knowledge out of hint ; he would make no confession ; he would not beexecuted : so the burglar kept his word in the manner already mentioned, leaving his cell invested with traditional terrors for all future prisoners. But the Josephs's attor ney, in the course of his frequent conferen ces with him and his associates, made one discovery, or rather guess. From Lints in advertently dropped, and looks involuntari ly cast, he took a suspicion that in spite of prison-searches and other improbabilities, the diamonds had been smuggled in with the chief of the robbers,and hidden in some crevice of his condemned cell. Like a pru dent son of Israel, tho attorney had kept that surmise for his own future benefit; but years passed, and 110 opportunity for acting upon it came within his reach. Ho grew old, infirm, and ready to retire from busi ness, in which it appeared he hail not real ized much money ; and then it occurred to him, as a proper and profitable course, to sell his suspicion for a respectable sum to the surviving relatives of the diamond-los er. According t > Jacobs the bargain had been a still' one, though, owing to the lapse of time, the failure of memory, and the al terations made in the old prison, it was im possible for the attorney to say what cell the burglar had occupied. By judicious in quiries, however, the Josephs found out that such a cell still existed, marked and made memorable by its peculiar legend ; and their kitchen-maid, Jemima, being of pure Jewish race, and a distant relation, volunteered to recover the family treasure by an expedient and for a reward which no body but a descendant of hint who served the fourteen years for Lillian's daughter would have thought of. It appeared that she had fixed her affec tions on their son Samuel. And on the strength of a promise that she should be made Mrs. Samuel Josephs, if her scheme proved successful, this true da tighter, of Ja cob (of course with the connivance of the family) stole plate and other valuables,con cealed them in her box of clothes, incurred suspicion and search, was committed,tried, and sentenced to a year of penal servitude within the prison where the diamonds were believed to be hidden. She depended on her own ingenuity for getting into the dreaded cell and discover ing the hiding-place ; hence her frequent removals, her scrubbing and scouring pro pensities, and, I sincerely believe, her hum ble services to me. How she contrived to bribe the woman to those exchanges with small articles of" jewelry brought to the prison, and retained in spite of hair-cutting and changes of clothes, Jacobs frankly confessed, for the pin she offered me was one of tliem. But the most curious part of the business, to my thinking, was the Joseph's regular question concerning her repentance, which was nothing less than an agrecd-on signal, and meant, "Have you found them yet ?" Jacobs made a perfectly clean breast —there was nobody within possible earshot—and when she hail told me all the poor Jewess concluded with that sad and simple appeal : " I leave my case to your charity, miss." Perhaps it was weakness, perhaps it was something worse, in an assistant-matron ; but, notwithstanding the gravity of that title and office, I was but a young woman at the time ; moreover, 1 was keeping com pany on my Sunday's out with Mr. John Adams, my present lord and master. We were engaged in waiting only till he got a step higher in a certain city office, and could begin housekeeping with respectable prospects. My own little romance made me sympathize Avith poor Jemima more than I ought to have done, according to strict regulations. 1 promised on the spot never to report, never to reveal her secret. When the Josephs eante next visiting day there was a variation in tiie dialogue. Jemima solemnly assured them of her com plete repentance, and the unfeigned joy which sparkled in their Jewish eyes would have given any body unacquainted with the secret an immense opinion of their moral princijWes. After that no stone was left unturned, no effort spared to abridge the time of Jemima's penal servitude. Every official,- from the Home Secretary down ward, was besigned with applications and petitions, and what influence they brought j to bear on the superior authorities was j never made known to me ; but Jacobs got her sentence commuted, and was released from my ward and custody within one month, reckoned from that memorable night. She went her way exactly as she came.— There was nothing remarkable in the de parture of the Jewish maid but an unusual amount of humble thanks and acknowledg ments to all the prison-matrons, especially myself. The next sight 1 got of her was on one of my Sundays out, when the Jo seph's carriage passed me, and there was my model prisoner seated beside the large mother, and quite as well overlaid with finery. Jf Mrs. Samuel recognized me she did not appear to do so. Our ways were different, and we never came in the slight est contact. But two years after, when Mr Adams and I were thinking of going to church together, a very handsome wed ding-dress was sent home to me, with a small brilliant stuck in the one corner of it, and I knew the gift came from Jemima Jacobs. GENERATION after generation have felt as we do now, and their lives were an active as our own. The heavens will be as bright over our graves as tliey are about our paths. Yet a little while and all this will have happened. The throbbing heart will bo stilled, and we shall be at rest. Our funeral train wiil wend its way, and the prayers will be said, we shall be left in the darkness and silence of the tomb", and it may be but for a short time we shall be spoken of but the things of lilts shall creep on and our names shdll be forgotten. Days shall continue to move on. and laughter and song will be heard in the room where we died ; and the eyes that mourned for us be dry and animated with joy, and even our children will cease to think ot us, and will remember to lisp our names no more. "I hope you will be able to support me," said a young lady, while walking one day with her intended, during a slippery state of the pavements. "Why—ay—yes," said the somewhat hesitating swain, "with some little assistance from your father !" There was some confusion and a profound silence when the lovers' colloquy had ended. 0. S CHBISBIAN COMMISSION CAMP DISTRIBUTION, Vu., Feb. 22, 1865. j U. S. CHRISTIAN COMMISSION. ) I -MR. EDITOR : Having had twelve weeks | experience in the U. S. C. C., 1 propose to I give in your valuable paper, (with your ap proval of course,) to the people of Brad i ford county, a little account of what 1 have , seen, hoping that J may thereby induce the I good people of that county to greater ex- I ertioii to do something more for the benefit | of our noble, self sacrificing soldiers, and j just let me say right here that 1 tliiuk if | ever the true spirit of Christianity has been I exhibited by men on earth, it is done in the Christian Commission. To see men leave their homes and families and go hundreds, 1 aye, thousands of miles to administer to the necessities of the needy soldiers, with ! out pay, with hard fare and hard work, looks something like true Christianity. Now let me say something of the wants of our dear soldiers. It is not expected that the Chris tian Commission is to do what the Govern ment ought to do, but to fill the vacancy left by the Government. The soldiers in health needs very much a house-wife, which will contain a little thread, a needle or two> a few buttons for pants and some for shirts, its the buttons frequently drop off; they want combs, they want handkerchiefs and towels, they want pens, ink, and paper and envelopes, they want reading matter and mittens and gloves, none of which are fur nished by the government, and if they are obliged to buy of the sutler or at the store, it takes most of their wages, and then their familie must suffer; and then Uncle Sam does not always pay as soon as the work is done, and then they have no money to buy with. Now the Christian Comuv'ssion fills as far as possible that deficiency for the healthy soldier. Now let us look after the sick and wounded soilder: the thing he wants most is a friend, and being from home and among a set ol men where stern neces ity would seem to oblige each to look for himself as best he can, the appearance of a "Christian delegate among them with the milk of human kindness in his heart, sym pathy in his countenance, is like the oasis to the weary way worn traveller in the des ert. Then the warm gushings of the heart flowing not only in looks aud words, but also in the bestowment of such things as are necessary for his comfort, will do very much to cheer, encourage, and recuperate the worn out energies of a suffering soldier. Often have I heard them say, "it does me so much good to have you come and talk to me, I do wish you would come oftener." Then when the appetite is wanting, to have a little jelly,a taste of canned peaches, or berries, or tomatoes, or something of that kind, will often induce an effort to take something, and I have often heard them say " that does taste good,.let me taste again." Oh, you can baldly conceive the difference it will make in their appearance. And then in such a state of the mind, you can with great prospect of success, point them to the Saviour, recommending him as the j friend that stieketh closer than a brother. Now to the christian I appeal, and to the genuine disciple of Christ especially, with out regard to denomination or preferences, I appeal with confidence for aid to the Christian Commission. Our common hu manity demands a little sacrifice at your hands for the benefit of those who have sacrificed so much for you. To the patriots I appeal in behalf of your country's brave defenders, do not T beseech you let a sordid selfishness prevent you from coming to the relief of our suffering, dying soldiers. In short 1 appeal with all the sympathy of my heart, to all classes both old and young, the high and low, rich and poor, that you will put your hands to this great work of philanthropy and christian benevolence. I can assure you that your benefactions will not be misapplied to any considerable ex tent, as 1 have the means of knowing that a more noble hearted, honest, rigidly eco nomical company of men are not to be found than those engaged in the Christian Com mission , the most rigid economy is prac ticed in regard to the living of the dele gates and the judicious distribution of the stores. As another inducement for you to come to the rescue, I tell you that God has blessed the Christian Commission far be yond the expectations of the uiost sanguine He has not only the hearts of our own peo ple, but foreign nations are pouring their offerings into the Christian Commissions treasury (instance, Honolulu has sent us S18,000). Friends of the cause if you could meet the hundreds'of soldiers in the chapel of Camp Distribution and sec and hear some praising God for his mercy, others pleading for-mercy at the foot of the cross, and others by scores asking chris tians to pray for them, and hearing them saying in the sincerity of their souls, I have found the Saviour previous, 1 am sure your resolution would be made immediately, I must and will have a part in such a work as this. We have prayer meetings every morning at 9 o'clock, and prayer meetings and preaching every evening. Yours truly, E. P. COBURN. AN exchange says, our junior partner returned a pair of trowsers to his tailor last week because they were too small in the legs. " But you told me to make them tight as your skin," said the tailor. "True," quot colleague, "for T can sit down in my skin, but I'll be split if I can in those breeches." The tailor caved in. pei* Annum, in Advance. Oil AND SALT IN NORTHERN FENN'A. Of late there has been much light thrown upon the theory of internal views of oil and salt by the borer, and is acknowledged that no exact measurement of oil or salt water levels can be relied upon for the discovery of either of the substance in the basin where they are both known to exist, for each have been found upon different levels in the same basis, and without special re gard to the sandstone strata, or oil rock. It should be remembered that the course of minerals flowing underground bears but a remote resemblance to that of rivers on the surface; there being in the one ease constant descent, with a free passage from the higher to the lower level, from the source of the stream to the ocean when, in the other, the oil and salt vein in the bowels of the earth may, from internal causes, be thrown above or belowits origin. In the western oil district of the State, where gas and salt water are found in the same locality, it is considered a sure index of Petroleum ; and, no doubt the same will prove true in the northern oil district,where | they have a strong show of gas and salt I water, extending over a territory embraced 1 in Bradford, Tioga, Potter, M'Keau, and i Cameron counties, which cover the eastern j bituminous coal and oil basin of the State. \ In this district the people are running wild !in land speculations, particularly on the j water of the Sinnamehoning River and its j branches, where many oil and salt wells I are now being sunk. Some are already . down to the first sand-stone stratum, and producing gas and strong salt water; in | dicating beds of rock salt in that vicinity. | The water now boiling from out of these I wells, is producing more thau one pound of j salt to the gallon, which is stronger than i the Tioga well, where salt has been made. Enough salt "water is already discovered and tested to know that Pennsylvania is now independent of the Syracuse salt stock monopoly, and will soon produce more than she consumes.— Petroleum Recorder. GOD'S LOVE INEXHAUSTIBLE. —Suppose a meadow in which a million of daisies open | their bosoms all at one time to the sun.— On one of them, while it was yet a bud a little stone has fallen. At once crushed and over shadowed, it still struggles bravely against all odds to expand its pet -1 tals like the rest. For many days this ef fort is continued without success. The tiny stone, (a mighty rock to the tiny flow er,) squats on its breast, and will not ad mit a single sunbeam. At length the flow er stalk, having gathered strength by its constant exertion, acquired force enough to overbalance the weight, and tossed the intruder off. Up sprang the daisy with a bound ; and in an instant another floweret was added to the vast multitude which in that meadow drank their fill of sunlight. The sun in the heaven was not incommoded by the additional demand. The new comer i received into the open cup as many sun beams as it would have received although no other flower had grown in all the mead- I ow—in the earth. Thus the sun, finite though it be, helps us to understand the absolute infinitude of its Maker. When an immortal being, long crushed and turned away by a load of sin? at length, through the power of a new spiritual life, throws off' the burden, and opens witli a bound to receive a heavenly Father's long offered but rejected love, the j Giver is not impoverished by the new de- I maud upon his kindness. Although a . thousand millions should arise and go to , the Father, each would receive as much of j that Father's love as if he alone of all fallen creatures had come back reconciled to God. j —-Rev. Wm. Arnot. THE BUTTERFLY AND THE SWALLOW. —One bright summer's day, as I was riding out,a large, richly colored butterfly rose in the air, and kept on its way a short distance before me. As the beautiful creature flut-1 tered amid the splendors of noon-day, dis-; playing its brilliant tints, it seemed to have ; reached the very acme of insect happiness. , While I watched it, of a sudden something ' darted from above with the speed of an j arrow, and the butterfly vanished. It was I a swallow ; in quest of food lie had de- j scribed the gay insect,and thus suddenly j had cut short its career. The incident may seem trival, yet it has j its morral. Many a youth are like that! butterfly, delighting in idle display, and intent only upon pleasure. In a career of folly they journey onward towards eternity 1 without the suspicion of danger. How dreadful to think that their course may be ' suddenly ended, and death bear their souls ' away unconverted, unprepared. Young ! man, cease from your dissipation, your ! levity, your love of self. Young woman, I cease from your vain thoughts, your ambi-; tion to be envied, your criminal neglect of j religion. Time has its vanities, but eter- j nity has its verities ; and what compari- i son between them ? Death is on the wings j and may the next moment snatch you j from your dream of pleasure and your ca- 1 reer of sin. The voice of God says, "Fa vor is deoiteful, and beauty is vain ; but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised." "A prudent man forseeth the the evil and liideth himself ; but the sim ple pass on, and are punished." MR. Toot, coming home late one night from meeting - , was met at the door by his wife. "Pretty time of night, Mr. Toot, for you to come home—pretty time,three o'clock in the morning ; you, the father of a fami ly !" "Tisn't three—it's only one ; I heard it strike ; committee always sits till one o'clock.'' "Mr. Toot, you're drunk. It's three in the morning" "I say Mrs. Toot, it's one. I heard it strike one as I came round the corner, two or three times /" 0, THE TONGUE. —The slanderer of which ever sex is a pest in any society. They are a character made up of a combination of vices, the most prominent of which are, lying,backbiting,idleness, hatred, revenge. No single one, but altogether these vices are found in their composition which make them as miserable as they strive to make others. Idleness is burdensome, envy in creases to madness, and through lying revenge is sought. This is but a faint picture illy executed of a community's greatest plague. Wonm grown, bad are worse than men, because the corruption of the best turns to the worst. HOW AN OIL WELL IS BORED. A correspondent of the Boston Trawler, writing from the oil regions of Pennsylva nia,gives the following description of the manner in which oil is found : "In selecting a spot for a well, the arte sian driller raises a derrick about 110 feet in height, bringing up a steam engine of' about six horse power, and then, after driv ing down an iron pipe about six inches in diameter'through the earth and gravel some fifty feet or so, to the first strata of rock, introduces a drill, of about two and r. half inches in diameter, attached to a temper screw, and thence to the "working beam" and engine, with which he bores now at the rate of eight or ten feet per day into the solid slate and soapstone, say one hun dred feet; he then comes to the first strata of sand stone, which may be ten or twelve feet in thickness ; and boring through this comes again to slate and soapstone of a bluish cast,and working on, say for twenty feet or so, he reaches the second strata of sandstone, out of which there comes rush ing up, when the right vein is struck, in flammable gas, salt water and petroleum. The bore of the well is enlarged by a rim mer, and then an iron tube, in sections of about fourteen feet and closely screwed together, is inserted in two sections and run down to the veins of oil ; a flax-seed bag, which expands when wet, is fixed be tween the tubing and the walls of the well, in order to prevent the surface water from descending ; a "plunger," or valved piston is introduced into the tube, and the sucking rod being attached to the "working-beam," the conduit pipes and tank, which may hold sixty barrels, being in readiness,the engine moves and the precious treasure gushes forth. This is what is called pumping a well. In the "flowing wells," that is, such as send the oil out spontaneously, the drill must go down into the third strata of sand stone, hut this in some instances is very deep. In a well on Watson's Flat the drill has reached the depth of three hundred feet, and yet the third bed of sandstone is not reached." NUMBER 41. REMARKABLE FOCXTAIX IX FLORIDA.—TAK ; ing a narrow path we crossed through some dense underwood, and all at once stood on the banks of the Wakulla Spring. There was a basin of water one hundred yards in diameter, almost circular. The I thick bushes were almost growing to the water's edge, and bowing their heads under the unrippled surface. We stepped , into a skiff and pushed off. Some immense fishes attracted our attention, and I seized a spear to strike them. The boatmen laughed, and asked me how far beneath the surface 1 suposed they were. I answered about four feet. He assured me they were at least twenty feet from me: and it was ! so. The water is of the most wonderful transparency. Dropping an ordinary pin in the water—forty feet deep—we saw its ! head with perfect distinctness as it lay <>ll ; the bottom. As we approached the center. I noticed a jagged grayish limestone rock : beneath us pierced with holes; one seemed to look into unfathomable abyss. From its gorge comes forth with iramensive velocity a living river. Pushing on just beyond its mouth, 1 dropped a ten cent piece into t ie water. 1 which is one hundred and ninety feet in 1 depth, and I clearly saw it shining on the | bottom. This seems incredible. I think the water possesses a magnifying power for 1 ; am confident that the piece could not be | seen so distinctly from a tower one hundred and ninety feet high. We rowed to the north side and suddenly we perceived in the water fish which were darting hither thither, and long flexible roots, luxuriant grass on the bottom all arrayed in the most beautiful prismatic hue The gentle swell occasioned by the boat gave to the whole an undulating motion. Death like stillness reigned aroud, and a more fairy scene 1 never beheld. So great is the quantity of water here poured forth that it forms a river of itself large enough to float flat-boats with cotton, The planter who lives here has thus transported his cotton so St Marks. Near the fountain we saw some of the remains of a mastadou which had probably drank from it. The bones were of immense size, and showed the animal to have been one of the largest of his class.— Travels in Florida. CARELESS PEOPLE. —OnIy the other day our nerves were worked up to explosion point by an account of a surgical operation, by which a woman's trachea was opened to remove a silver dime which had lodged these. And how on earth did a dime ever getin to a woman's wind-pipe ? Simply be caure she was careless, and laughing with her mouth full of small coins. Was there no other place where she could put her ten cent pieces? We do feel sorry for a creeping baby when it gets hold of the bars of the grate by mistake, or cuts its fingers, or humps its head, but with grown people, who suffer from their own recklessness,we have very little patience. What is the use of a women converting her mouth into a pin cushion, and then ex pecting our sympathy, when a sudden sneeze or an unexpected cough perils her life ? What is the use of a man balancing him sdlf on an oscillating chair, instead of sit ting up straight like a Christian? Are we expected to find vinegar and brown paper for the contusion on the back of his head when he finally comes down with a crash ? What is the use of women picking their ears with a long knitting needle, as half the women do,when a child running against her would send the instrument three inches into her brain,if she has any? WHAT MAKES A LADY. —When Beau Bruni mel was asked what made the gentleman, his quick reply was, "Starch, starch, my lord ?" This may be true ; but it takes a deal more to make a lady ; and though it may to some seem singular, I am ready to maintain that no conceivable quantity of muslin, silk or satin, edging, frilling, hoop : ing, flouncing or furbelowing, can per I se, or per dressmaker, constitute a real la ! dy. \\ as not Mrs. Abbot Lawrence just as much of a lady when attired in twelve-cent calico, in Boston, as when arrayed in full court dress at St. James, London ? "As Mrs Washington was said to be so grand a lady," says a celebrated English visitor j (Mrs. Thorpe), "we thought we must put on our best bibs and and bands ; so we ; dressed ourselves in our most elegant ruf j lies, and were introduced to her ladyship, i and don't you think we found her knitting, and with her check apron on ! She re j eeived us very graciously and easily, but | after the compliments were over she re ! sumed her knitting. There we were with out a stitch of work and sitting in state, but General Washington's lady, with her own hands, was knitting stockings for her husband." Does not that sweet republican simplicity command your admiration ? IT has been said that a chatting little soul in a large body is like a swallow in a barn—the twitter takes up more room than the bird.