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PEMBEItTON, 18. ii. tin soft name poetic is, .. r in my heart will blended be, h<> Ming amid these lovely vales In sweetest minstrelsy. i to tin echo of her lute, -taut lauds, enraptured by the strain : v native bills my soul breathes out Its situple, sad refrain. 1 ki. >• that Susquehanna's waves, us the - round emerald islands dunce, •il'ul, ami fraught with legends old o; Indian romance. r i the mush- of the dipping oar, t! • light canoe across the tide, \ ,ii_'. red chieftain proudly clasp lib I ad-decked, forest bride. . [I , t chi 'ML her girlhood's borne, WOMAN' trust went forth a loving wife, -t. d, nii-stie duties happy moved Til: sorrow broio her life. [ i 1 m> murmur from lier holy lips, When drank she of bereavement's bitterness ; T. • f.o ri.l v of lleav, n is now . ue more," She sighed, "but mine one less." ■ tla- .hangj when o'er her spirit s dream, V melancholy dyed suffusion came, i . is <1 not that sorrow's withering blight L>t spoiled her fragile frame. ■■tt like the fragrant summer leaf, fdls in its full lustre to the ground : :'p as hushed when its majestic sweep, With richest chords was crowned. a !i r < -ve r mountain, through ravine, N stuns brilliant paintings be ; • s !i, v.ho praised each forest scene, B .a my RE verie. :•. lsiD. | - ~TE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS" lev T. s. ARTHUR. iv bid we were struck with ' ■ F AN eminent physician, and ] . ,t • !' it hundreds of times since. I in making returns, reported SS AII necount against a gentle -14.! I I utly failed in business. . iod for nothing," said the M has sunk everything,and • it'., his family on the world penni ;•! ysieiaii D"IK the bill, quietly tore PH UEA and then turning to the unfor • i icbi.u's account, wrote across it— tied." Rather a losing business that," remark- | the collector. hope to be able to say the Lord's' • • : is LONG as I live, was the physi- 1 • s culm reply, " Forgive us our debts J : rgive our debtors. With what J ye mete it shall be measured to . • 'gain." - nuudreds of times since then, in • xperiencc and contact with men '! ught of that physician's re al very lew have we met, who, d say the Lord's Prayer witli *• g FOR a curst; instead of a bless : LI E LORD forgave their debts as g ve LI T .r debtors, their chance of MILL ■!' would not lie worth A frac- : • T f forgiveness is not confined M .fessor—to bini whose lips re- LY the holy words of the holy > ■ tar as our experienne and ob ■ they who profess to have "had VE:I, because they had sinned - rigid in their exaction of the ' n tiling, as liie men who assume i f life or conversation. \YC i general terms. There are . •4 ■i• 11 -jn -■ in both classes, but not, AN 1 t I believe, in one more With an individual of the ! 1 -INN, WO have now to deal. We be haul with liini — we shall ate his ilefeets ; for his purpo- : ' ami when he sees what is stly strives to overcome it But ! self-interest blind us all. — ! Mr. Harvey Green, notwith ' had passed from "death into' •■■l ii.td the evidence of the change ••' that " lie loved the brethren." V ' y 1 BVI II was a shrewd man of busi est M UL! his dealings, y<*t ever his own. lie took no advantage - and WAS very careful not to let l advantage "1 him. While act- L'l I eept, " Owe no man anything," 1 sight of a debtor, nor rested gation remained in force. A ' WAS that Harvey Green pros tmngs of this world- -not that VERY rich, but so well off as to "as., nable want supplied. . 'M d, a few years ago, that A 1 A ilkins, after an unsuccessful W ''H fortune, continued through N years, failed in business. Few d harder or suffered more; a", last IN: yielded to the pressure ' nm-taiices, he sunk down for a • ate in mind and body. Every 'ie had was given up to the credi- I'lypcrty P.IID but a small percect ;T-ir claims — and then lie went world, all his business rela ■ up, and, under the heavy dis • his situation, bravely sought 1 his large dependent family E. O. GOODRICH, Eufoliwlier. VOLUME XXVI. things needful to their sustenance and growth in mind and body, i Among his creditors was Green. Now \\ ilkins belonged to the same church that numbered Green among its members. W hen the latter heard of the failure he was a good deal disturbed, although the sum owed to him was not over three or four hundred dollars. On reilectiou, he grew more composed. " AVilkins is an honest man," said he to himself. " He'll pay me sooner or later." It did not take long to sell off, at a bad sacrifice, the stock of goods remaining in the hands of the debtor, for he threw no impediment in the way of those who sought to obtain their due. " Ah, my friend," said the latter,'on meet ing with Green, a few days after' closing up of his insolvent estate, " this is a sad business ! But if God gives me strength I will pay off every dollar of this debt before I die. An honest man can never sleep soundly while he owes his neighbor a farth ing." " The right spirit, brother Wilkins," an swered Green ; the right spirit! Hold fast to that declaration, and all will come out straight in the end. Though 1 can't very well lie out of my money, yet I will wait patiently until you are able to pay me. 1 alway said you were an honest man; and 1 am sure you will make good my words." " God helping me, I will," said the debt or ; his voice trembled, and his eyes grew moist. O, how dark all looked in the fu ture ! What a weight of grief, mortifica tion and despondency on his heart ! The two men parted, and each took his homeward way, the debtor and the creditor. The one with countenance erect, the other sad and depressed. 1 hat night Mr. Green prayed, " Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." Yet scarcely bad the words died on his lips ere he was musing on the chances in favor of his ever receiving from the penniless Wilkins the few hundred dollars due him by that unhappy individual. There was no sympathy for him in his heart; no thoughts of his terrible prostration of spirit ; noth ing of pity and forgiveness. A selfish re card for his own interest completely ab sorbed all humane considerations. Time passed on. Mr. Wilkins was no drone. An earnest, active man, he found employment—not very remunerative at first, but still sufficiently so to enable him to secure many comforts for his family, and to provide for their education. One, two, three years glided by. With the growth of his children, his expenses in creased, and kept so close a tread upon his income that he had not been able to payoff any of the old obligations although he never iost sight of them, and never ceased to feel troubled on account of their exist tence. 0, debt, debt, debt!" he would often sigh to himself. " What would I not give to be able to say, I owe no man anything. But with my large tamily and limited in come what hope is there !" This was his depresed state of mind one day when Mr. Green called in to see him. Many times before this the unhappy man had been reminded of his debt. " llow are you getting on ?" inquired the creditor, fixing his eyes steadily upon poor Mr. \\ ilkins, who felt a sense of suffocation and slightly quailed before his tyrant. " I have much to be thankful fur," meekly replied the debtor. "My health has been gootl, and 1 have had steady employment." " Y'uu are living comfortable." " And we are grateful to a kind Provi dence for our blessings." " Y our salary is one thousand dollars ?" " It is ; and I have six children to sup port." "You ought to save something. I've been easy with you a long time ; it's three years now, and you haven't offered me one cent. If you'd paid me five or ten dollars at a time, the debt would have been less ened. I wish you would begin to make some arrangements. Y'ou ought to save at least two hundred dollars from your salary. 1 know plenty of men who get oniy eight hundred dollars a year, and have as large families as yours." 1 lie eye of Mr. \\ ilkins fell heavily to the floor ; he felt as if a heavy weight had been laid upon his bosom. He made no reply, for what could he say ? 1 have always upheld you as an honest man," remarked Green, in a tone of voice that implied an awakening doubt as to whether this view of the debtor's character was really correct. I hat is between God and my own con science,' said H ilkins, lifting his eyes from the Hour and looking with some sternness into the face of his persecuting creditor. " For your own sake, I trust you will keep a clear conscience," returned Green. " As for the present matter between us, all I wish to know is whether you mean to pay my debt, and if so, when I may expect to receive something." " llow much is the debt ?" asked Wilkius. " It was three hundred and seventy dol lars at the time of your failure. Interest added, it now amounts to four hundred and fifty," said Green. " 'I here were other debts beside yours." " Of course there were; but I have noth ing to do with them." "The whole amount of my indebtedness was twenty thousand dollars. The yearly interest on this is more than my whole in come. I cannot pay the interest, much less the principal." " But you can pay my small claim if you will ; you could have paid it before this time, it the disposition had existed. You tald of conscience, but I'm afraid, brother \\ iikins, in your case there is a very nar row foundation of honesty for conscience to rest upon. I don't put much faith in the professions of men who live after the fash ion you live, aud yet refuse to pay their debts. I'm a plain spoken individual, and you now have my mind freely." 1 he tone and manner of the creditor were harsh in the extreme. "l'erhaps," said Wilkins, with forced calmness, "there may be less ofdishonesty in my witholding than in your demanding." "Dishonesty! Do you dare I" The cred itor's face flushed, and his lips quivered with indignation. "1 here are ten creditors in all," said \\ ilkins. with a regained composure. " Let me put you a question. I owe John Mar tin six hundred dollars. Suppose I had six hundred dollars, and little prospect of ever TOWAXDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., NOVEMBER 23, 1865. getting any more and were to pay the whole of it over to John Martin, instead of dividing it equally between you and all the creditors, would you deem the act right on my part? Or would you think Martin re ally honest, if lie were to crowd and chafe me until in very desperation as it were, 1 gave him the whole of what mainly be longed to the others ? Would you not say that he had possessed himself of your prop erty ! 1 know you would. And "let me say to you plainly, that I do not think your present effort to get me to pay oil' your I claim entire, regardless of others equally as much entitled to be paid as yourself, at all indicative of unselfishness, or a spirit of genuine honesty. If I have any money to pay, it belongs equally to all my creditors, not to any one of them exclusively." To be turned upon thus by a man who was in debt to him, to be charged with a dishonest spirit by the poor creature whose relation to society he regarded as essenti ally dishonest, this was to much for the self complacency of Mr. Green. lie rose up quickly, saying, in a threatening tone : "A ou will repent of this insult, sir ! 1 have forborne for years, believing that you were really honest ; but for this forbear ance 1 now meet with outrage. I shall for bear no longer. You are able enough to pay me, and 1 will find away to compel you to do so." Left alone with troubled thoughts, poor Mr. \\ ilkins felt not only humiliated and wretched, but alarmed for the integrity of his household. There was no way in which his creditor could extort the sum due him except by seizing upon bis household fur niture. That Green would do this, he had but too good reason to fear ; for lie had done it in other cases. His tears proved net altogether groundless. On the next day, ;i sheriffs writ was served on him at the suit of Harvey Green. " What do you propose doing ?" asked Wilkins, on meeting with his creditor a few days afterwards. " To get my monev," was answered stern 'y- " But I have nothing." "We will soon see about that! Good morning !" Mr. Green imagined that the indignation felt toward \\ ilkins was directed against his dishonest spirit, was, in fact, a right eous indignation, when its spring was in cupidity and wounded pride. It was the day before the trial of his cause against Wilkins, when he expected to get judgment by default, as no answer had been made by the defendant in the case. And it was his purpose, as it had been from the beginning, to order execu tion as soon as the matter was through the court, and seize upon any property that could be found. Evening came, and Mr. Green sat with his children around him in his pleasant home. A sweet little boy knelt before him, his pure hands clasped in prayer, while from bis lips came, musically, the words taught by the Lord to hits disciples, "Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors." There seemed to be a deep mean ing in the words, murmured by innocent childhood, than had ever before reached bis perceptions. His thoughts were stirred; new emotions awakened. The prayer was said, the little one arose from his knees and lifted his rosy lips for the good night kiss. " Father," said he, turning back after going across the room, " I'm not going to let Harry Williams pay me for that sled. It got broke all to pieces the next day after I let him have it." "He bought it from you,"said Mr. Green. " I know he did ; but Harry's mother is poor, and lie only gets a penny now and then. It will take him a long time to save a dollar ; ami then the sled is broken, and , no good to him. I have a great many more i nice things than he lias, and why should I i want his pennies when he gets so few?" " What made you think of this ?" asked his father who was touched by the words of his child. "It came into my mind just now when I was saying my prayers. I prayed, "For give us our debts, as we forgive our debt- j ors." Now Harry Williams is my debtor, j is lie not ?" " Yes, my son." "Well, ill don't forgive him bis debt, how can I expect God to forgive me my debt? If I pray to him to forgive me my debts as I forgive Harry, and if 1 don't forgive Harry, at all, don't 1 aak God not to forgive me, father?" The child spoke earnestly, and stood with his large, deep, calm eyes fixed intent ly on his father's face. Almost involuntar ily Mr. Green repeated the words : "If ye forgive not men their trespasses,' said our Saviour, 'neither will your Father forgive your trespasses," " I'll forgive Harry the debt, father, I'm sure lie isn't able to pay for the sled ; and I have a great many more nice things than he has. If I don't do it, bow can I ever pray that prayer again ?" "0, yes, yes ! Forgive liim the debt by all means!" replied the father, kissing his boy. That evening was spent by Mr. Green in closer self-communion than lie had known for many years. The words of his child had come to him like rebuking precepts from Heaven, and he bowed his head, hu miliated and repentant, resolving to forgive in the future as lie would be forgiven. On the morning that followed, as Mr. YVilkins, from whose mind the cloud had not lifted itself, who was yet trernblingMor the home of his children, was passing from his door, a lad placed a letter in his hand. He knew the face of the boy from its like ness to that of Mr. Green. " More trouble," lie sighed to himself as he tluust the note into his pocket. An hour afterward# he opened it, and, to his bewilderment and surprise, found within his account fully drawn out, and receipted with the signature of Harvey Green. He low the receipt was written, " I stand re buked. I must forgive, if I hope to be for given." It was with difficulty that Wilkins could restrain a gush of tears, so great wan his instant revulsion of feeling. And, if Har vey Green could have seen his heart at that moment, his debt would have been paid fourfold. No amount of money ponred into his coffers could have produced such a feeling of heavenly delight. ONE hour gained by rising early, is worth a month in a year. REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER. I FUN, FACTS AND FACETIiE. KINUNF.SS and cheerfulness can remove uiore than half the wrinkles out of the forehead of age. A DUTCHMAN a few days ago, picked up a bound volume of documents, on the hack of vliich was stamped "Pub. Docs." "Teifel," said he, "vat kinder poolts vill dey print next? As I lit" here is one on pap toys. '' \\ itv cannot a gentleman legally possess a short walking stick V—Because it can never be lontj to liim. A MAN in getting out of an omnibus, a tew days since, made use of two rows of knees as banisters to steady himself, at which the ladies took offense, and one cried aloud, "He is a perfect savage! ' "True," said a wag, inside, "he belongs to the Paw-knee tribe." , "WHAT is the chief use of bread ?" asked an examiner at a recent school exhibition. " The chiet use of bread," answered the urchin, appar ently astonished at the simplicity of the inqui y, "is to spread butter and jam on it," ON the door of a parish church, not a hundred miles from Pendle Hill, was recently af fixed the following notice : "The church wardens will hold their quarterly meeting She lay some time insensible. Her first trembling exclamation on recovering was: "1 hope there was no editor in sight!" " CABBAGE," says the Edinburgh Review, "contains more muscle-sustaining nutriment than any other vegetable." This probably accounts for the fact or there being so many athletic fellows among the tailors. A VERV absent-minded individual being upset from a boat in the river, sunk twice before he remembered that heconld swim. lie fortunate ly remembered it just before he sunk the third aud last time. A great invention is memory. A GKXTI.KMAN lately heard a laborer grave ly inform two comrades that a seveuty-four-pound er is a cannon that sends a ball exactly seventy four miles. "I think see a new /ec-ture in this case," as the lawyer said when his client informed him that lic had plenty of money. A POOR, thoughtless old gentleman sat down the other day, on the spur of the moment. Ilis screams were frightful. A CONFECTIONER in New York has brought his business to such perfection that he is now of fering to the public his candied opinion. IF there be no tints of affection in the morning haze of life, it will be in vain to seek them in the staring light of the late moon. A PERSON who lias been traveling "Down East," says that he saw plenty of pine-orchards, but no pine-apples. "On, mother, do send for the doc toil's aid a little boy of three years. "What for, my dear ?" "Why there's a gentleman in the. parlor who says he will die if Jane don't many him—aud Juno says she won't." A YANKEE lawyer who was pleading the cause of a little boy, took him up in his arms ami held him up to the jury, suffused in tears. This had a great effect, until the opposite lawyer asked the boy : "What makes you cry ?' "He's pinching me," said the boy. AN Irish dragoon, on hearing that bis widowed mother had married since he quite I li< - land, exclaimed, "murther! I hope she won't 1..0 > a son oulder than nie ; if she do, s. 1 sh t!l lose the estate." A JUDGE Ha id to a toper on trial fur drunk enness : "Prisoner, you have heard the complaint for h bitual drunkenness ; what have yon to say in your defense V" "Nothing, please your honor, but habitual thirst." [From tlru November Atlantic Monthly. ] THE PEACE AUTUMN. BY JOHX o. WHrrru.it. THANK GOD tor rest wlisrf- none molest. And none can make afraid,— For Feaee that sits as Plenty's guest, Beneath the homestead shade! Bring piko and gun, the sword's red scourge, The negro's broken chains, And beat them at the blacksmith's forge To plowshares for our plains. Alike henceforth our hills of snow, And vales where cotton flowers : All streams that flow, all winds that blow. Are Freedom s motive-powers. Henceforth to Lahore's chivalry- Be knightly honors paid : For nobler than the sword's shall be The sickle's accolade. Build up un altar to the Lord, O grateful hearts of ours! And Shape it for the greenest sward That ever drank the sliowais. Lay all tlic bloom of gardens there, And there the orchard fruits ; Bring golden grain from sun and air, From earth her goodly roots. There let our banners droop and flow. The stars uprise and fall : Our roll of martyrs, sad and slow. Let sighing breezes call. Their names let hands of horn and tun And rough-shod feet applaud, ho died to make the slave a man, And link with toil reward. There let the common heart keep time To sncli an anthem sung, As never swelled on poet's rhyme, Or thrilled on singer's tongue. Song of h( r burden and relief, Of peace and long annoy ; The passion of our mighty grief And our exceeding joy! A song of praise to Him who filled The harvests sown in tears, And gave each field a double yield To feed our battle-years ! A song of faitli that trusts the end To mutch the good begun, Nor doubts th p. aver of Love to bi ud The heart of men .; one! AN HOUR WITH ANDREW JOHNSON fflWoriffl (brrespdndmce of Oie FirankUn litpository. WASHINGTON. Oct. 31, 18H5. I was of those, in an humble way, who fashioned Andrew Johnson into a Vice- President at Baltimore—having publicly supported his nomination before the meet ing of tin- Convention and voted for him in that body. I have since then had occasion to complain of my own work, and have never after the inauguration, been free from grave apprehensions as to "be wisdom o! that choice. Dill"; ring with most men who besiege the Executive department in this very important particular, that the admin istration has no honors I aspire to, 1 may differ with most ol' them also alike in the frankness with which I counsel, waen in vited to do so, and in the convictions which result from contact with rulers. 1 found myself here on Friday for the first time since February last, and during the afternoon of the same day, called at the \\ hite House to set President Johnson. I found the halls, ante-cliamher and til! oth er available spaces around the Executive room, crowded with a motley set of men, with an axious female face here and there giving variety to the scene -all waiting, and some from day to day to gain an inter view with the President and plead for res toration of citizenship and property. Soon the door opened and a genteel lady emerg ed from the President's room with a large official envelope clutched nervously in her hand, and a benignity of countenance that told more plainly than words that another citizen had been born again to the Republic. .Soon after another and then another came witli like trophies of success, and as each one passed out the mass would sway tow ard the door to catch the name of the next one called. In a little time I gained admis sion and iiad my first interview wit.li Andrew Johnson as President. There are few men who could make a more favorable impression upon a stranger on first acquaintance, then the President. He differs from Mr. Lincoln in most exter nal characteristics, and in many contrasts favorably. He lacks Mr. Lincoln's jolly* humor ; improves upon his ungainly ways; is vastly more diplomatic, and wears a un iform and quiet dignity that, would have been shockingly out oi place in his lament ed predecessor, but which well becomes the Chief Executive of a great Nation. Ilois about live feet ten ii. height, rather stoutly and symmetrically built, has long hair well silvered by the frosts of time, rather a cold grey eye that looks as if in its calmest, glances there slumbers behind it quite enough to quicken it ; a chiseled Roman face, usually sad in expression, at times re lieved by a genial smile, and in manner and dress serenely plain and unaffected.— Such is, in brief,a portrait of Andrew John sou, but two years ago the despised, the reviled of traitors ; the man upon whose head fell their fiercest denunciations and against whom were hurled their keenest and deadliest shafts, and now the President oi the United States with his foes at his feet supplicating his pardon, and charged with the highest duties and responsibilities ever imposed ou mortal man. He meets the visitor cordially,and speaks in the softest tone and in well measured sentences. There was little formality—the usual greetings and thence was passed to questions of graver moment. However reticent lie may be on some issues.he seems to have no reserve as to the policy he con ceives to be the true one to bring back the insurgent States. He discussed the posit ion of those States and their people with great interest and occasional warmth, and with a frankness that left 110 doubt as to Ins purpose. lie holds that they were nev er out ol the 1 nion ; that secession, how ever accomplished as a fact, cannot be ac complished in law ; that the supreme au thority of the government in those States was not overthrown by rebellion, bat sim j.lv in abeyance, and of course it logically follows his prenvses that, since rebellion has ceased, the Mates resume their proper place in the In; m and restoration is ac complished. Tins, in brief, was the stand point from which the President discussed per Annum, in Advance. the question of reconstruction for more than , ; an hour, and answered suggestive object-: | ions at times with an earnestness that de monslrated how ardently he is working to give success to his policy. I could not but remind him that his theory stripped all ! j traitors of the protection they might claim j as public enemies ; that it would stamp as | , guilty of treason within the law, every man j who aided the rebellion, .and of necessity I demand at his hands commensurate punish ! ment for what lie must hold as unmitigated j crime—as appalling murder and desolation | for which there is extenuation to be plead. } "You have," I added, "given us on every j " hand the Nation's monuments of Mercy— " where will be its monuments of Justice? " Davis is a proclaimed assassin, as well as " traitor—his agents have died, another "(Werz)will follow—how are the principal ; "to atone to a people doubly bereaved in : "their liomes and in their chief sanctuary "of power?" To this the President answer ; ed witli much animation that the measure i of, and the time for,atonement were yet for I the future to determine. 1 shall not soon forget the emphasis with which he declared I that the .South must come back and be a | part of us, and "it must come," he added, i "witli all its manhood—l don't want it to come eviscerated of its manhood !" To this i proposition abstractly there could be no ' objection made. We want the South with j all its manhood, which I would conceive to | be the Southern people with their treason i abandoned and their crimes punished—not j punished revengefully ; not in imitation of | the Jiuillotine of France or the Inquisition .qui' Spain ; but by making the leaders who I conspired to overthrow the government, strangers to its honors and its citizenship and thus through life the monuments of the power, the justice and the magnanimity of ' the mightiest nation of the earth. The ! President said that such may be the meas -1 ure of punishment ; that he had pardoned j but lew who would come under such a rule; : that there are exceptions to all rules, and there were both civil functionaries and army officers who might be pardoned with | propriety. He said that he had not yet gone as far in his amnesty, either general or special, as Mr. Lincoln proposed. He ex j plained what is not generally known, that iiis pardons are mainly of business men, many of whom were Fnion men, who must ' have pardons to enable them to sell or mortgage their lands, or to get credit in ! their business operations ; and added that iie had not yet reached the consideration of such cases as Lee, Stephens, Longstreet, i Beauregard and others of that class. He spoke freely of the proposed trial of Davis, and said that as yet the government , had not taken any steps in the matter. If he is to be tried in Richmond, the trial must : necessarily be postponed until the civil au thority is fully restored, and then it will be | a question for consideration under the con ; dition ot affairs which may at that time ex i ist. As \ irgima is still practically under martial law, certainly wholly under milita ! ry rule, I judge that many moons may wax and waue before we can have a great State j trial. Ido not question the wisdom of ihis j delay, for it is certainly better for the gov ( eminent to ; void the danger of attempting j to convict <>fconstructive treason in Wash ington. ti: in to force a trial which might af lord a technical escape for Davis and have the great questions undetermined. It I ! were going to guess on the subject, I would | say that Davis is more likely to be paroled 1 during the next year than to be tried, and ! ;i lie is ever hanged, he must do it himself. llie President is clearly adverse to con | liscation and that question is practically j settled. Whatever might be the views of j > Congress, confiscation is not possible with 1 in Executive determinedly hostile to it and ; with the pardoning power in his hands. 1 1 iufer .however, that on this point Congress ' will harmonize with the Executive, as a i number of even the radical leaders, such : ;ih (j roe ley and Sumner, openly oppose it. j li our credit can be sustained otherwise I am content. Five years hence we shall all be wiser on that point than now. 1 believe that the President will wield all his pow< r to effect the admission of the representatives of the rebellious States into \ < 'ingress during the next session. The! f mate being organized the question cannot eome up tin -re until it is brought up in or der : but there wili tie a strong pressure to h ice the admission of the Southern inein ln-rs by placing their names on the roll when the House meets. This Mr. Mcl'her son will not do, and s sibly as a protection against the wrath which he is so continually provoking by bis overbearing and irritating demeanor, lie has always the Grossest dog in the neighborhood, the troublesome, breechy steers, &c., and is continually in hot water with some of his neighbors in consequence of the depredations committed by his unruly livestock. A few weeks since Van Am burg's Menagerie, traveling through Col umbiana, was obliged to pass his residence. A little before daylight, Nash, the keep er of the elephant Tippoo Saib, as he was passing over the road wiih his elephant, discovered this psuedo-Quaker seated upon a fence along the roadside, watching a bull which he had turned out upon the road, and which was pawing, bellowing, and throwing up a tremendous dust generally. In fact, from the fury of the animal's de monstrations, one would have taken him for one of the identical breed that butted the locomotive oil" the bridge. "Take that bull out of the way," shouted Nash, as lie approached. "Proceed with thy elephant," was the re p!y- NUMBER 26. "If you don't take that bull away, lit will get hurt," continued Nash, approach ing, while the bull redoubled bis beliigcr eat demonstrations. "Don't trouble thyself about the bull, but proceed with thy elephant," retorted Friend Shavey, rubbing his hands with de light at the prospect of an approaching scrimmage, the old fellow having greet confidence in the invincibility of his bull, which was really the terror of the whole | country around. Tippoo Saib came along with his uncouth shambling gait ; the bull lowered his head and made a charge directly upon the ele phant. Old Tippoo, without even pausing in his march, gave his cow-catcher a sweep catching the bull on the side, crushing in his ribs with his enormous tusks, and then raised him about thirty feet in the air, the bull, striking upon his head as he came down, breaking his neck and killing him instantly. " I'm afraid your bull has bent bis neck a little," shouted Xash, as he passed on. "Bent the devil," cried old Shavey, with a troubled look at bis defunct bull : thy elephant is to hefty for my beast, but thee will not make so much out of the opera tion as thee supposes. 1 was goingto take my family to thy show, but I'll see thee and thy show, blowed to blazes before I go one step, and now you may proceed with thy elephant and be d —d please," the " please" being added as Shavey took a second look at the stalwart elepha it keeper. THE DEATH OF FKIEXUS.-There is something very sad in the death of friends. We seem to provide for our own mortality, and to make up our minds to die. We are warn ed by sickness —fever, and ague, and sleep less nights, and a hundred dull infirmities ; but when our /Wends pass away, we lament them as though we had considered them immortal. It is wise--we ose, it is wise that we should attach ourselves to things which are transient; else we should say that 'tis a perilous trust when a min ties his hopes to so frail a thing as woman. They age so gentle, so affectionate, so true in sorrow, so untried and untiring—but the leaf withers not sooner, the tropic lights fade not more abruptly into darkness.— They die and are taken from .us and we weep ; and our friends tell us that it is not wise to grieve, for that all which is mortf perisheth. They do not know that We grieve the more because we grieve in vain If our grief could bring back the dead, it would be stormy and loud—we should di.s turb the sunny quiet of day—we should startle the dull night from Iter repose. Hut our hearts would not grieve as they griev now, when hope is dead within us. A SLIGHT MlSTAKE. —Acotemporary voucli for the following story : A young lady phy sician, who was in love with a fair patient, but was unable from bashfulness to reveal his passion, wrote her a passionate declar ation, and left it on the table, where tin servant, naturally enough, thought it was a prescription and took it to the chemist's, who the next daj sent it back to the poor doctor with an apology that he was "out of the ingredients necessary to make up what he wanted." A soLiiiEß passing through a meadow, a large mastiff ran at him, and he stabbed the dog with a bayonet. The master of the dog asked him why he had not rathei struck the dog with tne butt end of his weapon. "So 1 should," said the soldier, " if he had run at me with his tail," ANONG the inventions at the Ameriaan Institute, New York, is an ingenious ar rangement by which buttons may be at tached to any garment without the use of needle and thrread. Bachelors and women with irritable husbands should make a mem. A MOTHER, admonishing her son, told him he should never defer till to-morrow what he could do to-day. The little fellow re plied, " then mother, let's eat the remain der of the plum pudding to-night !" CAN you let me have tweuty dollars this morning, to purchase a new bonnet, my dear ?" said a wife to her husband, one morning at breakfast. "By and by, my love." " That's what you always say, my dear, but how can 1 buy and buy without anv money?" The husband handed over. CALL IT (JCII.TY. —In a recent case of as sault, the defendant plead guilty. "1 think 1 must be guilty," said lie, " because the plaintiff and me were the only ones there was in the room, and the first thing" 1 knew 1 was standing up, and he was doubled over the floor. You'd better call it guilty."