Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, November 09, 1865, Image 1

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LLE POKT£B IS published every Thursday Morn-
J- O. GOODRICH, at $2 per aunurn, in ad
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For the Bradford Reporter.
,I !.tnJ beneath the cerule sky,
•>s n 't gentle blood nor heraldry,
:•: huge sledges in their hard hands
■ iiiag fanner is a King.
R , v 111 castes divides,
I.'LI and poo. distinctive sides ;
a:.-!!, through working soon and late,
, - without I states.
~ I. I uie a Queen each housewife is,
.. R .lanvhters fair are Princesses,
„ SS SSIO to whom She young are nought
-FIIII-d at her court and taught.
%V, t.IJ ! an artist's skill,
KM U>r BY the people's will,
1,-. ;:A wondrous engine ear,
•FA reigning Czar.
- LA! 1 th t gives to merit praise?
IIIUH as just will raise?
I inuiliia, I-vcr may it be,
1 .>.>[. IN Ml' of the laboring free!
w. A. s. :
11.• willu extracts arc from Barry j
iv 1 k, C Billed "Matrimonial IN
iVw married men or women |
• ri'C -gnizc tiic many hard hits in
~ -. [ t* * r wliicli foUows :
ti.. housemaid, having entered
- c: - study on household thoughts
ami armed with broom and dust-pan,
i as an intruder by the indignant
I exclaimed, interrupting her and
: my chair as I spoke,
ated precipitately, slamming the
- r, as she disappeared ; I step-:
r, turned tho key in the lock,
■ito my desk. " Sow then," I
ys.'if, " 1 think that matter is sat
tiled. How curious it is," I
" that all women folks take such 1
i -\v. eiing. Now, if there he i
, i islike more than another, it is '
I .ma were invented by the i
: . the patience of mankind."— ,
:uni. d to my writing.
. . minutes elapsed, a knock at j
r d sturbed rne.
i.- there ?" I asked,
it is," said the original Biddy. j
.it do you want ?" 1 enquired,
u. stress bids me come back and !
> tim room."
■ tu't be done," 1 replied : "go j
! y ■ h t, me in, sir ?" she asked.
1 answered,
n 1 ii tell the mistress,'' she said,
a few mimites 1 enjoyed comparative ;
Only my little boy, taking advan
tlio uiaid having left the dust pan i
ir, converted it temporarily into I
i-ing the handle ol' the feather i
a drumstick, and getting astride
was riding up and down the hall,
a door, 1 told him lie might take
' the yard and play with them
■ .-ti 1 resumed my writing, con
myself upon having disposed
• tut, the boy, and the sweeping
i id written six lines, perhaps,
ati tapping at my door disturbed
■A it was my wife, so 1 opened it 1
"■ i her. She walked in with
tie -tie air, and took a seat on
- v. tu mt speaking.
;Y , it j' J said, " What is it ?"
■ > x ictly what I came here to
-wen d," she replied.
Live to inquire of Baruuui,"
U1 can'T tell."
- : j"k ug matter, sir, 1 can as- i
>n tinned. How do you sup-1
. keep my house in clean i
. ii the servants are not al
tad dust when 1 tell them
1 iii' know," I replied, "but
iac necessity of one's coin-
I am writing, and raising
the m ssarily must. Why
. other room just as
• • confess puzzles me. The
•iii doesn't require sweeping.
;v ihan two or three weeks ago, j
-iw urie sweeping it "
: three weeks 1" echoed my
it iiail not been swept until then,
1 "• ni'd linda cart-load of dirt
-.s tiioroughly swept on Wediies
| ! •' Friday is my regular day for
: - ai.d cleaning throughout the
'• :: Vou will just let the servant
and sweep, I will he much
-' ■' l you."
dly, 1 don't think the room
i i-aid ; " besides, it being a
1 aid decided to remain at home
it will be very annoying for
ais moment ; and, indeed, I
And 1 resolutely took up my
'"i-uiaed writing.
■'s We red not a word, but sat
a ' L " ast five minutes. I did not
' a iiom my paper, although I
' • s were upon me, and that she
!i g me attentively. It is very
s -• nsitive man like myself to be
" - t't ul a woman's eyes for many
4 time. At last, throwing down
: leave me to my writing.—
"ii, and 1 don't want it swept,
tl'ut sweeping was done
•' ■ purpose than to raise a dust—
can go about witli a feather
13. O. GOODRICH, Puhlisher.
brush and a dusting cloth, and scatter the
dust which lias settled on the furniture
over the Hour again. What possible good
is accomplished thereby, I don't see."
" The obtuseness of some persons." she
answered, maliciously, " often prevents
their seeing good in anything."
•' Indeed !" was all 1 vouchsafed to re
At this moment Biddy made her appear
ance, complaining that some one had car
ried off her broom and dust pan, and she
could not find them. My wife regarded me
" If any one," said she, " has had the au
dacity to hide them, I shall never forget it
as long as I live !"
I made no reply.
" It is very singular," she continued,what
has become of them."
1 looked out of the window, and asked
my wifl; what the noise was that came up
from the yard.
" Well, if that was not too bad," she
said ; " there is that dear iittle boy out in
the rain without any cap on, and with the
dust pan and broom. What a careless girl
; you are to have left them lying where the
little fellow could get them. Go, quickly,
and bring in the child. After all, it is your
fault," she added, turning to me, "if you
had allowed her to attend to her sweeping
here as usual, this would not have happened.
Now, he has probably taken a terrible cold,
and will have the croup and die, for aught
I know."
Here the lad made his appearance, strug
gling in Bridget's arms. He was thorough
ly wet, and had apparently been thrown
irom his horse, for he was covered with
mud from head to feet.
" Look at his !" exclaimed my wife " can
he ever la- got clean ?"
" He's in a pickle," 1 said.
" Pa said I might go out, and take the
broom, too," said young hlipeful.
I frowned at the rascal.
" Is that true ?" my wife asked
"Certainly it is," I said. " And now just
see," 1 continued, " how wrong it was in
you to send Bridget to sweep my room, I
when you knew 1 vv s < s,gaged in writing.
It will all be owing to your ill management
of household alia s, i! that boy be sick ami
die. And if tins should be the sad result,
how you ever can forgive yourself, I do not
" But, mv dear," she said, looking im
ploringly into mv face, " I didn't send him
into the yard."
" I can't help that," I replied, " the fault
is yours, just the same. It all comes from
your confounded mania for sweeping and
dusting. I wish to gracious there was no
such a thing as a broom in the world."
" But," interposed my wife do you really
think the darling will be sick and die?" and
she clasped the lad, muddled though he
as, within her arms,
vv" I cannot tell," I replied, " how live min
utes' exposure to a warm spring rain ma}'
affect him ; but at all events," 1 added
smiling at her terror, " the fault will rest
at your door."
"Ah ! 1 see how it is," said my wife, her
confidence somewhat restored ; "it is the
old story enacted in the Garden of Eden by
our first parents—the man putting the
blame on the woman."
•' My dear," I said, "as it lias ceased rain
ingl, I think I will take a walk, and while I
am absent, you can let Bridget sweep and
dust my room ; but," I added, as I took up
my hat and coat, "if there be one thing 1
dislike more than another, it is Friday's
Mrs. Gray one morning askes her hus
band for money. The children's dresses and
the large gas bill account for the demand,
but the irritable husband is disposed to find
fault. " I believe," he says, "the servants
burn gas all night ; and if they do, it is
your fault."
" Ido not think, my dear, that the ser
vants are at all wasteful of it."
< "Then there is something the matter with
the confounded metre," I said. "Can't the
children get at it,and set the register ahead
in some way ?"
My wife laughed.
"Oli, you needn't laugh," I continued;
"it's a probable thing, as they are given to
all kinds of mischief. I'll go directly down
to the company's office, and enter a com
plaint about tin- metre." And 1 put on my
hat resolutely, and opened the door to de
" But you are not going without leaving
me some money, I hope," she said.
" There i' is again !" I exclaimed ; "mon
ey ! money ! it is always money with you
women. Well, how much do you want?
Come, don't keep me standing here forever,
when yon know I am in a hurry."
" Can you spare me twenty dollars ?" she
ask< d.
" No !" 1 answered.
" Fifteen then ?" she suggested.
"Scarcely," 1 answered ; "but there are
twelve; and now don't a>k me for money
again in a week."
"But what shall 1 do about the children's
spring clothing ?" she inquired ; "after pay
ing the gas bill, 1 shall not have any great
amount left."
"1 don't know, nor I don't care what you
will do," 1 replied. "The fact is, the child
ren are well enough dressed. I don't ap
prove of arraying them in velvet and
" Fifteen or twenty dollars," she answer
ed, smiling, "would scarcely be sufficient
for the purchase of any quantity of velvet
and laces. No ! all that I want is to have
the children appear clean and respectable.
1 can't abide to see them in soiled and fad
ed clothes."
"But they look well enough to me," I
said. " I don't see why their present clothes
are not good enough for them to play around
in, as they do ; nor why it is necessary to
buy anything new."
" If you had to attend to the mending of
their clothes, as I do, you wouldn't ask me
why I wanted to get them new ones."
" Well, well," I said, "there are ten dol
lars more ; but don't, for goodness sake ask
me for money again until"
\ " I ntil," interrupted my wife, smiling, "I
j want a new bonnet—which will be next
"My dear, 1 I said, impressively, " don't
speak to me of bonnets. If there be one
thing I dislike more than another, it is to
hear about a now'bonnet."
" But lam very economical as regards
i bonnets, you know, my dear," she said, " I
only have four a year, whereas most ladies
have a dozen."
"A dozen !" I exclaimed,astonished,"why
that is equal to one a month. It is pre
posterous. Does your milliner have many
such customers ?"
" Oh, yes !" Miss Modiste assures me that
there are some ol her purchasers who get
a new bonnet every month."
" I am thankful, my dear," I said, "that
i y°u are not one ; but, it appears to me, that
! four hats a year are more than you can af
ford to have, especially in such hard times
as these are. when every one should study
economy. Don't you think you can get
along with two a year ?"
" I really don't see how it would be pos
sible," she replied ; " because every three
months the fashions change, and 1 would
not, you know, like to be out of the fash
" Well, the fact is, my dear," I replied,
"that we must economize somewhere ; and
I think we can best dispense with new bon
.nets. As for being in the fashion, it is all
nonsense. If there be one thing I dislike
more than another, if is seeing you forever
studying a fashion plate."
; "1 am not forever studying a fashion
plate," my wife answered, with spirit : "it
! is rarely, indeed, that I see one. If you
want to economize, why don't you stop
smoking, and leave ofi" drinking wine?—
You men are always accusing us of being
extravagant, and spending our time before
a mirror; but in my opinion, and in that of
all the thinking portion of my sex, too, we I
are seldom as extravagant or as vain as i
your sex. You'll spend almost as much for |
one dinner, down-town, as would suffice to i
feed your whole family well for a week. As j
for vanity, I have never seen the greatest .
coquette staid longer before a mirror than ;
1 have you when engaged tying an elabor- j
ate knot in your cravat."
Leaving this pretty quarrel as it stands j
—though the intelligent reader will, of:
course surmise that the lady ultimately lias '■
her oufii way -we close our extracts from |
Barry Gray's charming book with this little ■
sketch of
"My wife has gone to visit her mother. !
" I am happy to be able to state that the |
children accompanied her. Peace, quiet- ;
ness and felicity reign in my dwelling. I |
come and go unquestioned. 1 stay out late
at night without fear of rebuke, i lie abed
of mornings, and no one insists on my get
ting up. My friends pass theevening with
rne, and there be none who tell me the next
day that the window curtains are filled with
tobacco smoke, and the parlor lias the fra
grance of a bar-room. If two or three
friends come home to dine with me, the
cook never asks why I brought them, nor
complains of a headache. What is more,
she does not insist upon having a new silk
dress every week, nor burst into tears if I
utter crude and naughty words. The fact
is, if there be one thing I like more than
another,it is to have my wife often visit her
CONVERSATION. —The power of conversa
tion consists in the habit of not thinking
of what is in your mind, of not groping and
ferreting about in the dull dank vacuities
of your own soul for any notions which
chance to he found straying there. He
alone can converse with any effect who
cares only to see that which hovers before
the mental eye of his opponent. Conver
sation is inconipatable with vanity. It. is
also the best cure for vanity. For the only
way to get rid of self love is not to think of
one's self, but to contemplate what is ex
ternal to one's self. Enter into the minds
of others, and you will gradually get out
of yourself. The secret of light conversa
tion is to speak of that only in which your
partner is interested; to twist about the
thought in his mind. To say that which is
already known is rude. Such conduct will
be resented. Y T ou will be branded as dull
and insipid. It is not rude, on the other
hand, to remain silent. Paradoxes are
good ; because they are not commonplace
generalities. Never d< cind to common
place, but force persons out of their ordi
nary grooves. If any man is talking of a
high subject, and you let slip a common
place, he will mil saj another word to you.
A look,without a word, is sufficient to show
that you have entered into his meaning.—
But if you say what does not require to be
said, it proves that you have not been fol
lowing him. In sum, the whole art of con
versation consists in not traveling out of
your partner's thought,but in receiving and
applying it ; and he alone naturally con
verses well who has got rid of vanity and
A MAONANIMOFS DANE.— During the wars
that raged from 1622 t > 1660, between
Frederick 111 of Denmark and Charles Gus
tavus of Sweden, after a battle, in which
the victory had remained with the Danes, a
stout burgher of Fiensborg was about to
refresh himself ere retiring to have his
wounds dressed, with a draught of beer
from a wooden bottle, when an imploring
cry from a wounded Swede, lying on the
field, made hiui turn, with the very words
of Sidney, "Thy need is greater than mine."
He knelt down by the fallen enemy, to pour
the beer in his mouth. His requital was a
pistol shot in the shoulder from the treach
erous Swede.
" Rascal !" he cried, " I would have be
friended you, and you would murder me in
return. Now 1 will punish you. I would
have given you the whole bottle, but now
you shall have only half." And drinking
oft'half himself, he gave the rest to the
The king, hearing the story, sent for the
burgher, and asked him how he came to
spare the lift; of such a rascal.
" Sire," said the honest burgher, "I never
could kill a wounded enemy."
" Though meritest to be a noble," the
king said, and created him one immediate
ly, giving him as armorial bearings a wood
en bottle pierced with an arrow ! The fam
ily only lately became extinct in the person
of an old maiden lady.
" WIFE, I am to live but a few hours at
most—l shall soon be in heaven." " You,
you'll never be any nearer than you are
now to heaven, you old brute ! You'd look
well stuck up in Heaven, I think I see you
there now." " Dolphus, Dolphus," hoarsely
growled the old man, " bring me my cane,
and let me larrup the old trollop once more
before I die."
During the year of 1847 the West was
flooded with a counterfeit coin. It was so
well manufactured that it passed readily.
The evil at last became so great that the
United States authorities requested that a
skillful detective might be sent to ferret
out the nest of coiners, 1 was fixed upon
to perform that duty.
1 had nothing to guide me. The fact,
however, that Chicago was the city where
the counterfeit coin was most abundant,led
me to suspect that the manufactory was
somewhere within its limits. It was, there
fore, to the capital of the West that I pro
ceeded. I spent five weeks in the city
without gaining the slightest clue to the
I began to grow discouraged, and really
thought 1 should be obliged to return home
without having achieved any result. One
day I received a letter from my wife re
questing me to send some money, as she
was out of funds I went to the bank and
asked for a draft, at the same time handing
a sum of money to pay for it, in which there
were several half dollars. The clerk pushed
three of them back tome, saying, "Coun
" What !" said I, "you don't mean to
tell me those half dollars are counterfeit?"
"1 do."
" Are you certain ?"
" Perfectly certain. They are remark
ably executed, but are deficient in weight.
See for yourself."
And he placed one of them in the bal
ance against a genuine half dollar, and the
latter brought up the former.
"This is the best counterfeit coin I ever
saw in m} r life," I exclaimed, examining
them closely. "Is all the counterfeit mon
ey in circulation here of the same chatac
ter as this ?"
" O dear, no," the clerk replied, " it is not
nearly so well done. These are the work
ol the famous New York counterfeiter, Ned
W illett. I know them well, for 1 have
handled a great many in my time. Here is
B"ine of the money that is circulating here,"
he added, taking half dollars from a drawer.
" You see that the milling is not so well
done as Ned Willett's, although this is
pretty good too."
1 compared the two and found that he
was right. I supplied the place of the
three counterfeits with good coin, and re
turned the former to my pocket.
A few days after this I received informa
tion which caused nie to take a journey to
a small village about thirty miles from
Chicago. I arrived there at night and took
up my quarters at the only tavern in the
piace. It was a wretched dwelling, and
kept by an old man and woman, the surli
est couple, I think, it has ever been my lot
to meet. In answer as to whether I could
have a lodging there that night I noticed
the host gave a particular look at his wife,
and after some whispering, I was informed
in the most ungracious manner possible
that 1 could have a bed.
1 have frequently in the course of my life
been obliged to put up with wretched ac
commodations, so I did not allow my equa
nimity of temper to be destroyed by the
miserable sleeping apartments into which
1 was ushered after I had finished my re
The chamber was of small size, and cer
tainly well ventilated, for I could see the
stars through the roof. The bed was sim
ply a bag of straw thrown into one corner
of the room, without sheet or covering of
any kind. This last fact, however, was
not of much consequence, as it was sum
mer and oppressively hot.
1 stood for more than an hour gazing out
of the opening which served for a window.
Before me was an immense prairie, the
limits of which I could not see. The tav
ern in which I had taken up my abode ap
peared to he isolated from all other dwell
ings, and save the croak of the tree-toad
and the hum of the locust, not a sound
reached my ear. Ii was a beautiful moon
light night, so bright that 1 could see to
read the smallest print.
At last 1 began to grow weary, and
throwing myself on my pallet 1 was soon
plunged in deep slumber. How long I slept
I know not, but I was awakened by a dull
sound, which resembled some one hammer
ing in the distance. I suppose it was the
peculiarity of the sound which awoke me,
for it was by no means loud, but conveyed
to me the idea of some one striking iron
with a muffled hammer, 1 rose from rnv
bed and went to the w.ndow. The moon
was now in the western horizon, by which
fact I knew that it must be near morning.
The son in! I had before referred to reached
me more distinctly than when in the back
part of the chamber It appeared to come
from soi'ie nuthouses which were situated
a hundred yards from the house
Now I am naturally of an inquiring mind,
and this sound, oecnririg as it did in the
middle of the night, piqued my curiosity,
and I felt an irrepressible to go out and dis
cover the cause of it. This desire, as the
sound continued, grew upon me with such
intensity, that 1 resolved to gratify it at
any price
1 put on my boots, the only article of at- j
tire I had discarded, and cautiously opened i
the door of my chamber and noiselessly do- j
Kccndcd the ricketty staircase. A few ;
steps brought me into the lower apartment,
which I found entirely deserted. I crept
quietly to the window, and unfastening it j
without making the slightest noise, was !
soon in the moonlight.
Not a soul was visible, but the sound I .
have mentioned grew much more distinct j
as 1 approached the place from whence it I
proceeded. At last 1 found myself before j
a long, low building, through the crevice ;
of which I could perceive a lurid glare is-!
suing. I stooped down and peeped through
the key-hole, and to my extieme surprise I
saw half a dozen men, with their coats off
and sleeves up, performing a variety of
strange occupations. Some were working
at a forge, others were superintending the
casting of moulds, and some were engaged
in the process of mining coin. In a mo
ment the whole truth burst upon rne. Here :
was the gang of counterfeiters 1 was in
search of, and the landlord and his win- ev
idently belonged to the same baud, for in
one corner I perceived them employed, the j
man polishing off some half dollar pieces,
and the woman was packing the finished
coin into rolls.
I had seen enough and was about to re"
turn to my apartment, when I suddenly
[ felt a heavy hand placed on my shoulder,
and turning my head around, to my horror
found myself in the grasp of as ill-looking a
scoundrel as ever escaped the gallows.
" What are you doing here, my good fel
low ?" he exclaimed giving me a shake.
"Taking a stroll by moonlight," I replied,
endeavoring to retain my composure.
" Well, perhaps you will just take a
stroll inside, will you?" returned the ruffian,
pushing open the door, and dragging rne in
after him.
All the inmates of the barn immediately
stopped work and rushed toward us when
they saw me.
" Why, what's all this !" they exclaimed.
"A loafer 1 found peepin' outside," said
my captor.
"He's a traveler that came to the tavern
last night and asked for lodging ; the lust
I saw of him he was safe in bed," said the
The men withdrew to a corner of the
apartment, leaving one to keep guard over
me I soon saw they were in earnest con
sultation, and were evidently debating
some important question. The man keep
ing guard over me said nothing, but scowl
ed fiercely. I had not said a single word
during all the time I had been in the barn.
1 was aware that whatever I might say
would in all probability do more harm than
good, and it has always been a maxim of
mine, to hold my tongue when in doubt.
At last the discussion seemed to be ended,
for the blackest of the whole came forward,
and without any introduction, exclaimed, —
"I say, stranger, look here, you must
die 1"
I did not move a muscle or utter a word.
"You have found out our secret, and dead
men tell no talcs."
I was silent.
"We will give you ten minutes to say
your prayers, and also allow you the privi
lege of being shot or hung."
Suddenly an idea struck me. I remem
bered something that might save my life.
I burst into a violent fit of laughter, iu fact
it was hysterical, but the}* did not know it
They looked at one another in amazement.
"Well, he takes it mighty Cool, anyhow,"
said one.
"Suppose he don't think we are in earn
est," sunt another.
"Come, stranger, you had better say
your prayers," said the man who had lirst
spoken, "time llies,"
My only reply was a fit ul laughter more
violent than the first.
"The man's mad," they exclaimed.
"Or drunk," said some.
"Well, boys," cried 1, speaking for the
| first time, "this is the best joke 1 have ever
seen. What, hang a pal ?"
"A pa!—you a pal ?"
"I ain't nothin' else," was my elegant re
"What is your name ?"
"Did you ever hear of Ned Willctt ?" I
"Y'ou may be certain of that. Ain't he
the head of our profession?"
"Well, then, I'm Ned."
"Y'ou Ned Willctt?" they all exclaimed.
"You may bet your life on that," I re
turned, swaggering up to the corner where
I had seen the old woman counting and
packing the counterfeit half dollars.
Fortune favored me. None of the men
present had ever seen Ned Willett, although
his reputation was well known to them,and
my swaggering, insolent manner had some
what thrown them off their guard, yet 1
could plainly see that their doubts were
not all removed.
"And you call these things well done, do
you ?" 1 asked taking up a roll of the
money. "Well, all 1 have to say is that if
you can't do better than this?, you had bet
ter shut up shop, that's all."
"Can you show us any better ?" asked
one of the men.
"I rather think 1 can. If I couldn't I'd
hang myself."
"Let's see it," they all eried.
This was my last coup, and one on which
my life depended.
"Look here, gentlemen, I exclaimed, tak
ing one of the counterfeit half-dollars front
my pocket that had been rejected at the
bank, "here is my last job. what do you
think of it ?"
It was handed hand-to-hand, some saying
it was no counterfeit at all, and some say
ing it was.
"How will you prove it is a counterfeit ?"
asked one.
"By weighing it with a genuine one," I
This plan was immediately adopted and
its character proved.
"Perhaps he got this by accident," I
heard a man whisper to another.
"Try these," I said, taking the other two
out of my pocket.
All their doubts now vanished.
"Beautiful," exclamed some. "Very
splendid !" said others.
When they had examined them to their
satisfaction they all cordially took me hy
the hand, every panicle of douht having
vanished from their minds. 1 carried on
my part well. Some questions were occas
ionly asked me involving some technicali
ties of the business ; these, however, I
avoided, hy stating that I was on a jour
ney, and v ould rather take a glass of whis
key than answer questions. The whiskey
was produced and we made a night of it.
It was not until morning dawned that i
we separated.
The next day I returned to Chicago and
brought down the necessary assistance,
and captured the whole gang of counter
feiters in the very act. The den was bro
ken up forever, and most of them were con
demned to serve a term in the State Prison.
I have those half-dollars still in my pos
session, nnd nevec intend to part with
them, for they were certainly the means of
saving my life.
A LITTLE girl said : '• Mother is Tom a
good cat ?"
" Yes."
"Well, lie will go to heaven,then,won't he?"
' I suppose so, but if you're not a better
girl, you'll never go there "
" Uh !" said the little girl, " I'll hold on
to Tom's tail."
Ax editor got shaved in a barber's shop
n cently, and offered the darky a dime,
which he refused ; because, said he, " I un
derstand dat you are an editor !" " Well !
what of that ?" "We nebber charge edi
i tors nuilin 1" " But such liberality will
ruin you." " Oh. neber mind, we make it
up off de gemmeti."
per Annum, in Advance.
A|vouxu lady who let her lids diop on be
ing spoken to tenderly by a young gentleman, is
anxious to recover them, and otters a handsome
reward for their restoration. A nanticalgentleman
of her acquaintance assures her that they could
not have been properly lashed or they would not
have been lost.
HAPPINESS consists in thinking you are
happy ; and misery in thinking you are miserable.
SIR ISAAC NEWTON'S nephew was a clergy
man. When he had performed the marriage cere
mony for a couple, he always refused the fee, say
ing, "Go your ways, poor wretches, I have done
you mischief enough already." Was he or was he
not a subject for a lunatic asylum ?
A YOUNG prince of the illustrious house
of Monaco, was asked why he had "married a rich
old woman. •• Mafoi ," was the gay young prince's
reply, "what poor man in a hurry to get an enor
mous bank note cashed, troubles himself to look
at the date ?"
AN editor in a neighboring city is charg
ed with grossly misrepresenting the condition of
its streets. One would think that an editor had
better do anything else than lie about the streets.
LAXDSEER defined photography to be "jus
tice without mercy."
SOME men, when they are perplexed in ar
gument, get out just as poor debtors get out of jail
—they swear out.
MILTON was asked : " How is it that in
some countries a King is allowed to Like his place
on the throne at fourteen years of age, but may not
marry until he is eighteenV" " Because," said the
poet, "it is easier to govern a kingdom than a wo
THE Southerners have found the "last
ditch." It is situated in an ante-room of the White
House, where applications for pardon are consid
WHY are young ladies at the breaking up
of a party like arrows ?—Because they can't go otf"
without a beau uud are in a quiver till they get
A MAN with a scolding wife, being asked
what his occupation was replied that he kept a hot
A YOUNG lady, on being asked if she in
tended wearing that finger-ring to church, said she
didn't intend wearing anything else. If she kept
her word, she must have had a cold time of it.
THE chap who was told that the best cure
for palpitation of the heart was to quit hugging
and kissing the girls, said, "If that is the only re
medy which can be proposed, I, for one, say let'er
palpi tat i."
AN exchange speaks of a chap with feet
so large, that when it r.iius, or lie wants to get into
the shade, he lie.- down on his hack and holds up
one foot. If fully answers the purpose of an um
A LOAFER who had been fined several
weeks in succession for getting drunk, proposed
coolly to the magistrate that he should take him by
the year at „ reduced rate.
A I.ADY, speaking of the gathering of law
yers tu dedicate a new court house, said, she sup
posed they had gone "to view the ground where
they must shortly lie."
A TIIIEF broke out of jail tlie other day.
Being re-captured, lie told the constable that he
might have escaped but e had conscientious scru
ples about traveling on Sunday.
Goon REASON FOR MOVING. —An honest Hi
bernian drawing a handcart containing all his val
uables, was accosted with: "Well, Patrick, you
are moving again, I see!" " Faith I am." he're
plied, "for the times are so hard, it's a dale cheap
er hiring hand carts than paying rents!"
"I'll take your part,"as the dog said when
he stole the cat's dinner.
A YOUNG lady objected to a negro's car
rying her across a mud hole, because she thought
herself to heavy. " e Lor's missus," said Sambo im
ploringly, '• I'se carried whole barrels of sugar. " j
A CLERGYMAN, at the examination of the
young scholars of his Sunday school, put the fol
lowing question : "Why did the children of Israel
set up a golden calf ?" "Because they had not mon
ey enough to set up an ox, was the pupil's reply.
THE lasli that man does not object to hav
ing laid on his shoulders—the eyelash of a pretty
THAT was a smart youngster who,on bear
ing his mother remark thatslu- was fond of music,
exclaimed, "Then why don't you buy me a drum?"
SOME young ladies insisted on naming a
gentleman's kitten Julia—it was so pretty. He
gallantly replied that he should be most happy to
gratify them, but it was not that kind of a eat.
"SAM, are you one of the Southern chiv-!
*lry ? "No. massa, I s one oli de Houthern sho7-
eirv, I shoveled dirt at the Dutch Gap Canal. '"
AM impatient boy, waiting for a grist,
said t) the miller, "I could eat the meal as fast as
the mill grinds it." "How long could you do so?"
inquired the miller. "Till I starved'to death,"
was the sarcastic reply.
AN Ohio politician was boasting in a
public speech, that he con d br ng an argument to
a pint as quick as any other man. "You can,bring
a quart to a pint a good deal quicker," repl ed a
Kentucky editor.
A WESTERN paper says:—"A cow was
struck by lightning and instantly killed, belong
ing to the village physician, who had a beauti ul
calf four days old."
" TIM, does your mother ever whip you ?"
"No; but slie does a precious sight worse,though."
" What's that?" "Why,she washes my face every
"I'APA, why don't you give thctelegraph
a dose of gin?" "Why, my child?" "Cause the
papers say that they are out of order, a d mamma
always takes gin when she is mt of order."
" A PENNY for your thoughts,madam,"said
a gentleman to a per, beauty. "They are not
worth a farthing, sir," she replied ; "I was think
ing of you."
"JOHN, did Mrs. Green get the medicne I
ordered?" "I guess so," replied John, "I saw
crape on the door the next morning."
A WRITER in Blackwood says : "When
people waiiT to speak of a native of Holland they
call liini an Amsterdam Dutchman, but when they
speak of the German race generally, they leave
out the Amster."
W HEN Caesar was advised by his friends
to be more cautious of the security ol his jierson,
and not walk among the people without arms or
any one to defend him, he always, replied to the
admonitions, "He that lives in fear of death, every
moment feels its tortures. I will die but once.*'
WAGER OF BATTLE.— This method of de
termining the guilt or innocence of an ac
cused person was recognized by the com
mon law of England for many centuries.—
When a legal tribunal failed to convict the
accused, the nearest of kin was allowed to
challenge him to wager of battle, upon the
belief that God would there defend the
right. If the accused were killed, it was
held to be a proof of his guilt ; if other
wise, it was a proof that he was innocent.
A case of this kind occurred in 1817, which
caused the Parliament to put an end to it,
A young woman was murdered by a man
in a wood He was tried at the Old Bailey
and acquitted. Her brother challenged the
murderer to battle with swords. They
were to fight until the first star appeared,
and he who should first "craven" was held
to be execrable. The man was kept in
Newgate until Parliament altered the law.
We take- thin instructive article from a
late number of Pall' Journal of Health :
All know that the less we exercise the
less health we have, and the mure certain
we are. to die before our time. But compar
atively few persons are able to explain how
exercise promotes health. Both beast and
bird, in a state of nature, are exempt, f rom
disease, except in rare cases ; it is because
the unappeasable instinct of searching- for
their necessary food, impels them to cease
less activities. Children, when left to them
selves, eat a great deal and have excellent
health, because they will be doing some
thing all the time, until they become so
tired that they fall asleep ; and as soon as
they wake, they begin right away to run
about again ; thus their whole existence is
spent in alternate eating and sleeping, and
exercise, which is interesting and pleasur
able. The health of childhood would be
enjoyed by those of maturer years, if, like
children, they would eat only when they
are hungry ; stop wh ui they have done :
take rest in sleep as soon as they are tired;
and, when not eating or resting, would
spend the time diligently in such muscular
activities as would he interesting,agreeable
and profitable. Exercise, wiinout mental
elasticity, without an enlivement of the
feelings and the mind, is of comparatively
little value.
1. Exercise is health-producing, because
it works off and out of the system itffwaste
dead and effete matters ; these are all con
verted into a liquid form, called by some
" humors," which have exit from the body
through the "pores" of the skin in the shape
of perspiration, which all have seen, and
which all know is the result of exercise,
when the body is in a state of health. Thus
it is. that persons who do not perspire, who
have a dry skin, are always either feverish
or chilly, and are never well,and never can
be as long as that condition exists. So ex
ercise, by working out of the system its
waste, decayed and useless matter, keeps
the human machine "free otherwise it
it would soon clog up, and the wheels of
life would stop forever !
2. Exercise improves the health, because
every step a man takes tends to impart mo
tion to the bowels ; a proper amount of ex
ercise keeps them acting once in every
twenty-four hours ; if they have not mo
tion enough, there is constipation, which
brings on very many fatal diseases ; hence
exercise, especially that of walking, wards
off innumerable diseases,when it is kept up
to an extent equal to inducing one motion
of the bowels daily.
3. Exercise is healthful,because the more
we exercise the luster we breathe. If we
breathe faster we take that much more air
into the lungs j but it is the air we breathe
which purifies the blood, and the more air
we take in, the more perfectly is that pro
cess performed ; the purer the blond is,and
as everybody knows,the better health must
be. Hence, when a person's lungs are im
paired he does not take in enough air for
the wants of the system ; that being the
case the air he does breathe should be the
purest possible,which is outdoor air. Hence,
the more a consumptive stays in the house,
the more certain and more speedy is his
This is the epitaph which might truth
fully be written on many a good woman's
tombstone. Mrs Stowe, in her last Chim
ney Corner paper in the Atlantic, treats of
this evil in connection with the domestic
fault of exactingness—that impatient qual
ity which stimulates a certain class of per
sons to be ever striving to reach a high
standard of excellence which they can
never attain, and which results in an over
doing of domestic work destructive to all
haopiness in the family. ID r remarks on
the subject are so pertinent, and so well
worthy of the serious Consideration of the
mothers of our land that we cannot refrain
from reprinting them here :
" What if the whole can- of expensive
table luxuries, like cake and preserves, be
thrown out of a housekeeper's budget, in
order that the essential articles of cooking
may be better prepared? What if ruffling,
embroidery, and the entire department ol
kindred fine arts be thrown out of her cal
culations, in providing for the clothing of a
family ? Many a feeble woman has died of
too much ruffling, as she patiently sat up
night after night sewing the thread of a
precious, invaluable life into elaborate ar
tides which her children were none the
healthier or more virtuous, for wearing.
" Ideality is constantly ramifying and
extending the department of the toilette
and the needle into a wo. id <>f work and
worry, wherein distracted women wander
up and down, seeing no end anywhere. The
sewing-machine was announced, as a relief
to these toils ; but has it proved so ? We
trow not. It only amounts to this, that
now there can be seventy-two tucks on
each little petticoat, instead of fifteen, as
before, and that twice as many .. arnu ets
art' made and held to be necessary as for
merly. The women *uil sew to tin* limitof
human endurance ; and still the old pro
verb holds good, that woman's work is
never done.
" In the matter of dross, much wear and
tear of spirit and nerves may lie saved by
not beginning to go in certain directions,
well knowing that they will take us beyond
our resource of time, strength, ami money-.
" There is one word of fear in the vocab
ulary of the women of our time which must
be pondered advisedly- TRIMMING. In old
times a good garment was enough ; nowa
days a garment is nothing v.bis ut trim
ming. Everything, from the first article
that the baby wears up to the laborate
dress of the bride, must be trimmed at a
rate that makes the trimming more than
the original article. A dress can be made
iu a day, but it cannot be trimmed under
two or three days. Let a iaithiul, consci
entious woman make up her mind how
much of all this burden ol life she will as
sume, remembering wisely that there is no
end to ideality in anything, and that the
only way to deal with many perplexing
parts of life is to leave them out altogeth
POISONERS. —The notorious Tofana confes
sed to the murder of more than 400 by
poison administered by herself directly. La
Spara and Bruilliers were destructive hard
ly in a minor degree. But the number of
victims who succumbed to the immediate
operations of those female monsters were
but of small account,after all, in the grand
aggregate of those who withered, stricken
by pulsions suppled and given at second
band. There was a time when a married
Italian lady's dressing-case was hardly
complete without a small vial of aqua To
fana. What the fair ones did with it many
a murdered husband or faithless lover, it
brought to life could tell. Poisoning has
i ever been the favored scheme of woman's
| murder practice, and for some obvious rea
son. It needs 110 strength of hand, no un
wavering presence of mind, face to face
with your victim ; it makes no noise, spills
110 blood, is quiet, undemonstrative ; and,as
far as murder can be, is elegant.
" OVERCOME evil with good," as the gen
j tleman said when he knocked a burglar
I down with the family bible.