ST I:E&NRY J. STAIILE
37" YEAR
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11E1)0iCe pactrn.
The Laborer and the Warrior.
I .
BY EWES SARGENT
The camp has had its day of song;
The sword, the bayonet, the plume,
ilave crowded out of rhyme' too long
The plough : the anvil and the loom!
0, -not upon our tented fields
Are freedom's heroes bred alone
The training of the workshop yields
More heroes true than war has down
Who drives the bolt, ~who •slotpes_the steel,
May with a heart as valiant' smile,
As he ‘i , bry sees a foeman reel
_ Iu blood before his blow 6f might; '
The skill that conquers space and time,
That graces life, that lightens toil,
Irlay spring from courage more Hiblime
—Than—that—which—makes--a—realm—its—spoil.
Let labor then look.. up anesee_
Ilis craft no path of hunor
The solflier's title yet shall be '
Less honored than the woodman's axd;
Let art its own appointment prize.
Nor deem that gold. or outward light
Can compensate the worth that lies
In boasts that breed their own delight.
And may the time draw nearer still,
When man this sacred truth shall heed,
That from the thought and from the will
Must all that raises man proceed;
Though pride — may — kold our calling low,
For us shall duty make it good ;
And we from truth to truth shall go,
Till life and death are understood.
,Gclect Afilioccilaull.
THE BOY HEROES.
A SKETCH OF EARLY WESTERN LIFE
When Kentucky was an infant -State, and
before the foot of civilization had trodden her
giant forest, there lived upon a branch of the
Green River, an old hunter by the ‘name of
John - Slitter. - His hilt - Was upon the southern
bank or the stream, and save-a small patch of
sonic cozen acres that had been cleared by his
own - axe, he was shut- up by dense forests.
Slater had two children at home with him:—
two sons. Philip and Daniel—the former
fourteen and the latter twelve years of age.
Ills elder children had gone south. Ilis wife
was with him, but, she had been for several
years ail - almost helpless cripple from the ef
fects of severe rhetimad sm.
It was early in the spring, and the old hun
ter had just returned from Columbia, where
he had been to cafry• the produce of the win
ter's labor, which consisted mostly of furs.
Be had received quite a sum of money, and had
brought it home with him. The old man had
for several years been accumulating money,
for civilization was gradually approaching
him, and he meant that his "childreii — siforuld:
start on fair terms with the world.
One evening, just as the family were sitting
down to their frugal supper, thei were attract
ed by a sudden howling of the dogs, and as
Slater went to the door to see what was the
!matter, he saw three men approaching his hut.
He quickly tnieteds the dogs, and the stran
gers approached • the door. They - asked for
something to eat, and also for lodgings for the
"light. John Slater was not the man to refuse
a request of that kind, and he asked the stran
gers in. They set their rifles behind the door„.
unslung their packs, and room was made for
them at the, supper table. They represented
themselves travelers bound further west, in
tending to cross the Mississippi in search of a
settlement.
The new comers were far from being agree
able or prepossessing in their looks, but Slater
took no notice of the circumstances, for he was
not one to doubt any man. The boys, however,
did not like their appearance, at all, and quick
gl4inces which they gave each other told their
feelings. The hunter's wife was not at the
table, but she sat in her great easy chair by
the tire.
'Slater entered into conversation with the
guests,' but they were not very free,ai=ul. after
while the talk dwindled to occaFional ques
tions. Philip, the elder of the two, noticed
that the men cast uneasy glances about the
room, and 'he watched them narrowly. His
fears had , become excited, and he could not
rest. Ile knew that his father' had a large
:sum of money in the house, and his first
.thought was that these men woe there for the
:purpose of robbery.__ _ _
Atter the slipper was over, the boys quick
ly cleated off the table, and then they Went
out of doors. It had become dark. or rather
the night had - fairly'serin, for there was a
bright .moon, two-thirds full, shining down
upon the forest.
"Daniel," said Philip in a low whisper. at
the same time casting a look over his shoulder,
"what do you t k of these 'ere men ?"
"I'm afraid they e bad ones," returned the
youneboy.
"So am I. I believe the mean to steal fa
ifimihi Vruzgagrr----.Frutitrit tg Rgrirulturr, ittraturr, lirts unit .krirurro, Alarkrts, &mat m nth nu "sorrily! 3ntriligurr, icnurrtising; .3iiittsruituty—b:
ther's money. Didn't; you notice how they
looked around ?"
"Yes "
"So did I. If we should tell father what we
think, he would only laugh at us, and tell us
47.
e were lerfect scare-crows."
"But we can watch 'em." •
"Yes, we will 'watch 'em, but do not let
them know it." ' - .
The boys held some further consultation, and
then going to the dog -house, they set the
small door back, so that the hounds might
spring forth if they were wanted. If they had
desired to speak with their father about their
suspicions, they had no chance, for the,stran
gers sat close by .him all the evening.
At length, however, the old man signified
his intention of retiring, and arose to go out
of doors, to see the state of affairs without.
The three followed him, but they did not take
their weapons. The -old lady. was asleep in
the chair.
- 'Now," wZdspered Philip, 'get's take two
of father's riff s - up to our bed—we may want
them. • 'We are as good as men with the rifle."
Daniel' sprang to obey, and quickly as possi-
blethe boys slipped twcirifles from their poet: 7
ets behind :the great stove chimney, and then
hastened back and emptied the priming from
the stran_ers' rifles, and when theirfather and
the straners,returned, they had resumed-their
i~-`n 1~1
The hunter's cabin was divided into two
apartments on the ground floor, one of them in
the end of The building being the .old man';
sleeping room, and the other the room in which
the company at present sat. Uver head there
was a sort of scaffolding, reaching only half
way over the large room below it, and . in the
opposite end of the building from the little
sleeping apartment of the hunter. A rough
ladder led up to the scaffold. and on it, close
up to the gable end, was the boys' bed.
There was no partition at% the edge of this
scaffolding, but it was . all. open to the room
below. •
• .
Spare bedding.was spread upon the floor of
the kitchen for the three travelers, and after
everything had been arranged for their comfort
the boys went up to their, bed, and the old
Man retired to his lithle room.
The two bdys thought not of sleep, or if they,
did, it was . on-ly to avoid it. Half an hour had
passed away, and they could hear their father
snore. Theu they he - ard a
.movement from
those below. Philip crawled silently to where
he could peep down through a crack, and saw
one of the men open his pack, from which he
took several pieces of raw meat by the rays of
the moon, and moving towards the window,
shoved the sash,back and threw the pieces of
flesh to the-dogs, —Then he went back to his
bed and laid down.
At first the boy thought that this might he
'thrown to the dogs only to distract their atten
tien ; but when the man laid down, theTdea of
poison flushed through' Philip's, mind. He
whispered his thOtight to' his brother. The
first impulse of little Daniel as he heard that
his poor dog were to be poisoned, was to cry
out, but a, sudden-pressure—from—the-hand—of
his brother kept him silent.
At the end' of the boy's bed there was a
dark window, a small square door, and as it
was - directly over the dogs' -house, Philip re
solved to go down and save the, dogs. The
undertaking was a dangerous one ; for the least
noise would arouse the.villains,and the con
sequences might be fatal. But Philip Slater,
found himself strong in beak, and he determin
ed upon the trial. His father's life might be
in•his hands ! This thought was a tower of
strength in itself.
Philip opened the window without moving
from the bed, and it swung upon its leather
hinges without noise. Then he threw °lf the
sheet and tied the corner of it to a' staple by
,which the window was hooked. The sheet
was'then lowered on the outside, and careful
ly the brave boy let himself out upon it. lie
enjoined his brother not to move, and then Le
slid noiselessly down. The hounds had just
found the meat, and they drew back at their
young master's beck, and Philip gathered the
flesh all up. He easily quieted the faithful
brutes, and then he quickly tied the Meat up
in the sheet. There was a light ladder stand
ing near the dog-house, and setting this up
against the building, Philip made his way back
to his little loft, and when once safely there
be pulled the sheet in after him.
The strangers had not been aroused, and
with -a beating heart the boy thanked Clad.
He had performed an act, simple as it may ap
pear, at which a stout heart would have quail
ed. The dogs growled as they went back into
-their kennel, and if the strangers heard t iem,
• they thought the poor animals were grow — g
over the repast they had found.
At length the hounds ceased their noise, and
all was quiet. An hour passed away. and so
did another. It must have been nearly mid- -
night when the
. 42191 moved again. and the
lad Philip saw the rays of a candle flash up_
through the cracks of the floor on which stood
ids bed. Ile would have moved to the crack
where he could peep down, but at, that moment
he heal d, a man upon the ladder. Ile uttered
a quick whisper to his - brother; and they lay
perfectly still. The -.man came to the top of
the ladder, and held his light up so as he could
look upon the boys... The - fellow , seenia to be
rreertl‘: vs-tisfied that they were asleep, for be
GETTYSBURG, PA.: MONDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 1854:
soon returned to the' ground floor, and then
Philip crept to the crack. He saw - the men
take knives, and he heard them whispering.
"We'll kill the old man and woman first,"
said one 4 pf them "and then we'll hunt the
mone • . If those little brats u' there oin tin_
to the scatted) wake up, we can easily take
care of them."
“But we must kill them, all,".said another
of the villains.
"Yes,'" returned -the speaker, "but not the
young ones first ; the. may make a noise and
start the old man up."
Philip'a heart beat with horror.
"Down the ladder outside ! quick !" he Nvliis
pered to 1 .- lither. "Down and start up the
dogs ! Run for the .fli-ont door and throw it
open—it isn't fastened ! Oh, do let the-dogs in
the house as quick as you can !. I'll look out
tor father while You go."
Daniel quickly crawled out through the lit
tle window, - and Philip seized a rifle and crept
to the head of the scaffold. Two of the'villains
were just approaching the door of his father's
room. They had set the candle down' on the
_floor.,_so_thatits_light would fall into the bed
room as the door was opened. Philip drew
the hammer of his rifle back, and rested the ,
,muzzle upon the edge of the boards. One of
-the-men-had---his-hand-upon-the-da,tchr--The
boy hero uttered a • single word of heartfelt
prayer, ans ten e-pu ITd - the rigger. - ie
villain whose band was upon the latch, uttered
'one sharp, quick cry, and then fell upon the
floor. The bullet had passed through his brain.
For an instant the. two remaining villains
were confounded, but they quickly compre
hended the nature and- nosition of their enemy,
and they sprang for the ladder. They _did not
reach it, however, for at that instant the outer
doer was flung open and the hounds—four in
number—sprang into the house.. With a deep,
wild yell, the animals leaped upon the villains,
and they had drawn them upon the floor just
as the old hunter came from his room, "Help !
help us ! father," cried Philip, as he hurried
down the ladder. "I've shot one of them !
They arepurderers ! robbors ! Hold 'em !-hold
'em theAioy -continued. clapping his hands
to the dogs. Old Slater comprehended the na
ture of the scene in a moment, and sprang to
the spot where the hounds had the two men
upon the floor. The villains had . both lost
their knives, and the dogs_lta_d so_wounled, them
tl.at they were incapable of resistence. With
much difficulty the animals were called off, and
the two men were lifted to a seat. There was
no need of binding them, for they needed some
more restorative agent, as the dogs had made
quick work in disabling them. •
After they had been looked to. the old man
cast his eyes about the coom : They rested a
moment upon the body of him who had been
shot, and then turned, upon the boys. Philip
told him all that had happened. It seemed
some time before the old hunter could crowd
the whole teeininn. truth through his mind,
but as he gradually co rehended it all, a soft,
grateful, pond light brokt, over his features,
and he held out his arms to sons.
"Noble, noble boys !" he tittered, as he
clasped them to his bosom. "God bless you
-for this ! Oh. I — dreamed not that you had
such hearts."
For a long time the old man gazed on his
boys in silence ; while tears of love and grati
tude rolled down his cheeks, and his whole face
was lighted up with the most joyous holy pride.
Long before
_daylight, Philip mounted the
horse and started for the nearest settlement,
and early in the forenotn the officers Of justice
had the two wounded men in charge, while
the body of the third was removed. •They
were recognized by the officers as criminal:4 of
notoriety ; but this was their last adventure,
for the justice they had so tong outraged
fell upon them and stopped them itt_ their
•
career.
Shotild any of our readers chance to pass
down the Ohio.river, let them take notice of a
large white mansion that stands upon the south
ern bank, with a wide forest park in "fro - nt of
t, and situated some eight miles west of Owens
boro'. Ask your steamboat captain, who
lives there, and he will tell you, "Philip Slater
& Brother, retired flour merchants." They
are the coy -heroes of whom you have been
reading.
EVERY :MOMENT SCNDAI —ln different na ?
tions every day of the week is set apart for
puhl ic_worshi p Sundayby_the
day' by the (jrceians, Tuesday by the Per
sians, Wednesday by the Assyrians, Thursday
by the Egyptians, Friday by the Turks, and
Saturday by the Jews. Add to this the fact of
the diurnal revolution of the earth, giving every
variation of longitude a different hour, and it
becomes apparent that every moment is Sun
day.
~ J . 77- l le is only worthy of estee who knows
what is just and honest, and dares to d o it_
who is master of his own passions, and scorns
to be a slave to another's. - Such a one, in the
p - 00, es tThove rty - , - is alar - blat - er man. and merits
'mole re , pect, than those gay things who owe
all their greatness and reputation to their ren
tals and revenues.
17 - The lady_ who did not_thiuk it respecta
ble to bring up her children to work has late
ly heard from her two sons. One of them is
bar:keeper on aifflat=boat,',and - the oilier is
steward of. a brick. yard.
"TRUTH IS MIGHT'S', AND:WILL PREVAIL." •
THE GREAT PLAGUE-.
In Dicken's Child'S History of England, vol.
X, we find the following respecting the Great
Plague that prevailed in the city of London, in
the seventeenth century
“During the winter of 16G4, it had been
A member of-Gov. Stephen's Northern Route
exploring party ina long communication trAlie
St. Louis RepuVican,-Written from . the head of
Yellow StOne River, says from the incidents of
the party thus far:—"On Sunday, after a march
of some 10 miles, the butfaloes were 'reached. --
They were before and on each side of the train.
For miles ahead it seemed one vast drove yard.
They *ere estimated by some as high as 500,-
000-200,000 is considered as a very low es
timate. Drawing up the train at our usual
halt, at noon, a large herd were about a half
mile ahead. The hunters. six-in number, were
immediately despatched, well mounted on
spare horses,reserved for that especial purpose,
and the whole train had an opportunity to wit
ness a buffalo hunt. The hunters dashed in
among the herd, picked out the fittest of the
, crowd, and then, separating the selected ones
from the herd, soon dispatched them. In an
hour the wagons were sent but a small distance
from the route, to receive the choicest pieces of
the buffalo. In the next two `day's march the
hunter' '-were kept some distance ahead, to
-44-eep off the by fl-tlotS was the only way_the
sale pas-age of the train could be insured
I through the sea, of flesh. The pack mules and
spare n mals-- foil owmg- on-the train-being-to
numerous to be separately led, were hard to
control ; and, despite every precaution and.care
one - horse and four mules were lost--"they get
ting mingled with the herd. Every effort was
made to reclaim_them—hours spent in their
attempted recovery. The effort was useless."
At,:i fire in Willjamsburg„
day night a Weetc, two boys peritied , ; fkiving
been literally charred in their bets. -
whispered a .out that some few people had died
here and there ola disease called the plague, in
some of the unwholesome suburbs of London.
New was not published at .that time as it is
now, and some people believed these rumors,
and some disbelieved them, and they were.
soon forgotten. But in the month of May.
1664, it began to be said-all over the town that
the disease had burst out with great violence.
in St. Giles, and that the people were dying in
great . numbers. This soon turned out to be
awfully . true. The roads out of London were
choke up by people endeavoring 'to escape
from the infected city, •and large sums wore
paid for any kind of conveyance.
The disease soon spread so fast that it was
necessary 'to shut up the. houses in which sick
people were, and .to cut them off from-commu
nication with the living. Every one of these
houses was marked on the outside of the door
with are cross, nn thewords :—"to'rd, have
znercy Cin us !". 'The streets were all deserted.
grass grew in the public ways, and there was
a dreadful silence in the air., When night
came oh, distant rumblings used to be heard,
. . , t t i ( at i-cart
attended by men with veiled faces and holding .
cloths to their' mouths, who rang doleful bells,
and cried in a loud and solemn voice, bring
'out your dead !" The corpses put into the
carts were buried by torchlight in great pits ;
no service being performed over them—all men
being afraid to stay for a moment on the brink
of the ghastly graves. In the general fear,
children ran away from their parents, and pa
rents. from -their children. Some were stabbed
or strangled by hited nurses, who robbed them
of all their money, and stole the very beds on
which. they lay. Some went mad. dropped
from their windows; ran through -the-streets,
and in -their pain and frenzy threw themselves .
into the river.'
These were not' all the horrors of the time.
The wicked and dissolute, in wild desperation,
sat in taverns, singing roaring songs, and were
stricken as they drank, and went off and died.
The fearful,and superstitions persuaded them
selves that they saw supernatural sights
21ini—ming swords - in the sky; gigantic arnis - and
darts. Others pretended that at night, vast
crowds of ghosts walked round and round the
dismal pits. One madman, naked, and carry
.
ing a . brazier full of burning coals upon his
head; stalked through the streets, crying. out
that he was a prophet, conunissioned to de
nounce the vengeance of the Lord on wicked
London. Another always went
. to and fro,
exclaiming:—"Yet forty days and London
shall be destroyed !" A third awoke the echoes
of the dismal streets, by night, and by day, and
made the blood of the sick run cold, by calling
incessantly, in a deep hoarse voice :—"O, the
great and dreadful God !1'
Through the months of - July.and August,
and September, the Great Plague raged more
and more. Great fires were lighted in the
streets, in the trope of stopping the infectiob ;
but th6re was a plague of rain, and it beat the
fires out. At last, the winds Weli - UStnilly
rise at that time of the year, which is called
the equinox, when day and night are of equal
length all over the world, began to blow and
purify the wretched town: The deaths began
to decrease, the fugitives to return, the shops
to open again, and pale, frightened faces to be
seen in the streets. The plague _had been in
every part of England, but in close and un
wholesome London it had killed one hundred
thousand people."
Buffaloes by the Acre.
VOLTAIIMS D.saTu.-The awful details - of
Voltaire's death are not too well known to need
repetition. The following authentic anecdote
may he interesting: ,
".Some years age; an individual well.known
and highly respeeted'in the religions world.
narrated in my hearing t e o owing inci en .
In early life, while with a college companion
he was making a tour on the continent, at Paris
his friend was seized with an alarming illness.
A physician of great- celebrity was speedily
summoned, who stated that the case was a criti
cal one, and that much would depend upon
minute attention to his directions. As. there
was no at hand upon whom they could place
much reliance, he was requested to recommend
sornacontidential and experienced nurse. He
mentioned one, - but added, 'You may think
yourself happy, *lced, should you be able to
secure her services: but she is so much in re
quest among the higher circles here, that there
is little chance of finding her disengaged !' The
narrator at once ordered his carriage, went to
her residence, and, much to his satisfaction;
found her at home. Ile briefly slimed his er
rand, and requested her immediate attendance.
4131 it, before" consent to acceinpany - you, per-
Mit me, sir,' Said she, Ato ask you a single ques
tion :Is your friend a Christian ?' 'Yes, he re
plied; 'he is indeed, a Christian in the best and
highest sense of the term ; a man who lives.ln
he fo oIGod. But I should like to know the
reason of Yoni - inquiry?'- she answered,
was the rse that attended Voltaire in his
s ness, and for all the wealth of ;Europe
I would never again see on infidel die.' "
INGENUITY OF A CAPE KEEPER.-A gessip
ingcorrespondent, writing from Paris, under
date of September 11411), says: !'A gale keeper
has revealed himself this week as-en
indivld
ual understanding Parisian character in a de
gree that would have insured him success as
comic author. His cafe was unknown. til.
attended. unsuccessful: He had placed a
lovely damsel at the counter, but to no pur
pose. He
_furnished excellent coffee, ,but
without effect. Atlas'., driven - to ,desperation,
and thoroughly knowing his men, he loaded a
pistol, rammed down the waddiug..bard, and
fired it in the air. There was an immediate
inroad of promenaders, and a spe,edy gather
ing of policemen.. Groups collected, at the
door. Coffee began to flow,in an-uninterrup
ted stream. Pistols and coffee for several
hUndred at least. Tha,lady.at the counter
was found exceedingly beautiful, and inqui
rers represent her as a miable. , / The proprietor
is to be tried and fined fqr harboring gunpow
der; but he will like that all the - better. He
will be in the papers without the expense of
advertising. He is on the high road to for
tune, for , that one trait of genius.
GRAVF: JOKING ! -A practical joke, bordering
dose on the graie, was played 'off, in•Sevitti
nah, Georgia, during the late preValence of the
yellow fever in that city, upon the arrival 'of
the steamer Florida. - As the passengers, one
by one, came down the gangway, they were
stopped by a wag of
. a mechanic, who, with'
foot-rule in hand; proceeded to measure them
for their cotiThs, with the simple inquiry, “whe r
ther they would havb them made.of mahogany
or pine."
INTEREsTiNG CORRIGSPONDENCV.. -"DCO,r .
I am sorry that .1 cannot accept your kind
offer, as I am already engaged; but I am sure
my sister Ann would jump at it. Your obli
ged Eliza L."
‘.flear, Mks Eliza L., I beg your pardon ;
wrote your name in mistake, it was Miss Ann
I meant to ask—have written to her per bear
er. Hoping soon to be your affectionate bro
ther, J. IL" The doctor and Miss Ann Were
mar ried.
PRETTY Gooo.—An exquisite compliment
was paid the other evening to a lady in our
presence. She had just swallowed a petite
glass of wine, as a gentleman in the company
asked for a taste.
•'lt is all gone," said she, laughing, "unless
you will take some of it froin my lips."
should be most happy," he replied, "but
I never take sugar with my wine !"
A BM FiDDLE.—A newapper correspon
dent says that a bass viol has been construct
ed at Vienna, thirteen feet high, provided with
pedals, to act upon- the finger board. This,
however; is nothing to thegreat violin in
many, which is su large - as to , require. two
horses to draw the how, - and - oriiititroke produ
ces a sound that vibrates six weeks. •
A ScitooLuor's ASPIRATION.-011, how. I
wish I were a fountain, for then I could he al
ways playingl,--Punch.
Ze t r"l sell peppermints on Sundays," re
marked a good old lady who kept a little can
dy shop, "heeauso they carries 'ern to church,
and eats 'etn, and keeps awake to hear the shr
anon ; but if you,want pickleA limes you must
come on week days. They're secular corn-
.',17- . NVe were amused with a remark we
heard in the street yesterday evening.—"lial
too, Bill," said a fellow to one of his tipsy
companions, who was standing against a lamp
post, that your post rl
"Not exactly," said the tipsy ss • " .
have a lean upon it."
r, - "Naturu is limited, but fancy is bound
less.
TWO. DOI;LARS A,IYEAR.
PRESERVING BUTTER. —The farmersOf iber
deen-,-S,-ntl and, are said to practiee the follow-`
ins method' of curing their butter, which gives
it a greaVsuperiority over that of their:- neigh
bours:—“Take two quarts of the best connubn •
gait, one ounce of 'sugar, and one ounce of eom•
tido one ounce this comti- _
Ei3:l
um sa
sition for one pound of butter, work it well in
to the mass, and close it . up for use/ The: but.
ter cured
, with this mixture•apPears of a - ilieh
marrowy consistency and tine color, and nosier
acqnires, a brittle hardness nor tastes silty:
have eaten butter cured with :the aboye leotn.
position that has been, kept for three years, and
it was as sweet as at first.' It must be noted,
however, that butter thus cured,' requires 40.
stand three weeks or a month before' ttsed.
If it is sooner opened the salts art- not stilliiient
ly blended• with it, and somertithes tholi()Olness
of the nitre will be perceived,-Which
appears afterwards:"
KICLING FowLO-Oply. ,turketes, snd geese
should be bled to desth- 7 -tlicileslortheebiek'in
becomes dry i nsi iid,from 19si ot blood. l -The
plan, says the Chronicle, is tO. take
a-blunt-stick,-
wooden sword,-and
! smart
blow on the back of the neak,tibOtit:#l third
joint from the head ; deat-htollowi jrka,xl),.otunt,,
SWEETTOTATO PUDDING. 1 -ono ;Dougtof
mweet
while hot,-through tt grater,' thelfinisrfhi bet
ter. To this, add half a dozen"-eggs,
ten, three quarters' of , a pound-or tine vigor,
three do: of butter. some grated nutpieg,and
lemon rind, and a glass of
,Old brandy,
paste in thelish,-,ind when the, pudding.is
done, Sprinkle .the top, with white sugarlfitic
ly pulyeritted. This is a di§h fit to grace the
table of an Egtperor.
-IitANSAIf INSECTS:-The•49rkanarra Travel
let tells a good story 6f a - citizen of that , State,
who, 'while' on hoard of a steamer ori the.MissiS
sippi; was asked by a , gentlethan , whetherAbe
raising of stook was'attended by-muela Mika
-ty or expense . 4 1 , ; .; v'
"Oh, yes,: titrszverl.;—they auffei. much from
inaeala.'"
• . -
Why,: :whit kind !o! ..insects,
"Insects!
Pray ?"
I=
"Why—bari, 'catamounts, w olves, and Bich
like insectS."< , • • • .
_The stranger Stopped further ,inqniryi nor
did he deem it necessary to explain to: thaAr
kansian some passages in.GoldsmithisNaittrAl
, p-A southern paper: states thatA:yqung
gentleman of Alabtu»a, generally,,
his Qlsagitwos proclivities, „recently i nttentlied
the Auburn camp meeting. made, hicnstilf
quite serviceable in .gallanting the youttgln
dies, but at lasOltwe,weep to, say it,) , yvongid
up with a glorious fizzle..: yor We t
table with his bulcioea, scnte tripemWpl9o44
to him by a , servant, which l he pitOckinto4in
the most cadaverous manner. An Aittempritto
cut it proved a failure, and turaing.his,hend
with dignified, ontempt, he exclaimed, ttWri
ter, take away this plate. These kfitteressfsgt has
got rags in 'em
you, keep your .eye:on nty,korse,
my son, while,i,step',in 'Oak?
"ices, (Stranger,geta,,hs drkuk at4cotpos
ont.l, Wjlere,is ltorap, *Tr ' ,‘, 4 *?l3
ruan'd away ) , sir,"., '9)idte.t!,l, tell you to tajce
care of, Minn. you - acarpip„?!!, ,or. you told
too to,lcecp,,an eyq op, hirn,,a
got clean out of ,
CO"lin exchange tella a,story, of a, miserable
drunken sot, who staggered into a Sunday
S4';hool. and for a few minutes.listene,d vory,l4-
tentively to ,the questions
,propounded ,to the
scholars, but; being anxious to, show his . know
ledge of -'scripture," he stood up leaning on the
front of the pew with both hands: 'Parson
B ," said he, “ask me some of them hard
ques'shuns."
"Uncle Joseph," said the domino, with a sok
ernn.faee, in a drawling tope, "don't you know
you arc in the bonds or sin and the depths,of
iniquity ?" •
"Yes'ir, and in the gall of bitterness, t 00 . 7-
Ask me another ques'shuri 1" .
. AIAWY as STRATAGEN.—A lawyer in Ban
gor. Me., wishing; for some particular. reason,
to-get an adjourmncnt of court., went among
the jorors, and reported that ten cases.of chol
era had occurred that morning. The courewas
obliged to adjourn fbr want of a ptineh
SHARP LAD.—"Thanes, of what fruit is ci
der made 3"
.. Don't know, sir*
"Why, what a stupid boy ! .what did you
get when-you robbed FarmerJones' orchard?"
"I got a licking. sir." 7:-
Swedei.burg says, •though the virgins be
saw in heaven were beautiful, the wives were
inewuparatively more beautiful, and went on
increasing in beauty evertnoro." Is not here
an inducement for the _iris to _•t married'?
_
What girl would willingly remain single . inthis
world, at the expense of her beauty in the tuiitl
13:7The celebrated "Doesticks," describing
a New York boarding-house, snys 'Ne'can-a/
ways -tell when they get_a new_hired_glit by
.I=..m am l l 3_
I.
ISO
Knowledge is the treasure, but judg
ment the treasurer of s wise man,
NO; 6.
MS
11Mil
SZE
•
e biscuit.