Br IMRY J. STABLE. 37 TH YPh_R. TERMS OF THE COMPILER. itey"The Ilepublican Compiler is published every Monday morning, - by HENRY J. STATILE,' at 1,75 per annum if paid advance—s2,oo 8 per annum-if not paid in advance. No sub seri tion discontinued, unlegs at the option of t he pu , is er, unti a arrearages are pal.. ADtitICTISEMENTS 'inserted at the usual rates. Jos WORK. done, neatly; cheaply, and. with dispatch. sidi".l)ffir...e on South Baltimore street, direct ly opposite Wampler'S Tinning Establishment, one and a half gquares from the Court Jiouse. 412)oire ,portro. BY ELIZABETH ELLET. Come, fill a pledge to sorrow, The song of mirth' is o'er, And if there'e 7 simsliine in our hearts, 'Twill light our theme the more. And pledge we dull ' life's changes, 'As round the swift hours pass— Too kind were fate, if none, but gems Should Sparkle in Time's glass.' The dregs and foam together te to erown-the-cu p-- And well,we know the weal and wo That fill life's chalice up ! Life's sickly revellers perish, The goblet scarcely drained Then lightly quaff, nor lose the sweets That may not be retain'd. What reck we that unequal Its varying currents swell— The tide that bears our pleasures down Buries our griefs as well. And if the swift-wing 'd tempest Have cross'd our changeful day, The wind that toss'd our bark has swept . Full tnan:ypa cloud away ! Then grieve not that nought mortal. • Endures through passing years— Did life one changeless tenor keep, 'Twere cause, indeed, for tears. And fill we, ere our parting, A mantling pledge to sorrow : The pang that wrings the heart to-day Time's' touch will heal to-morrow ! Seat HAY CARRYING. A VILLAG.F., STORY. BY MISS MITFORD. At one end of the cluster of cottages. and cot tage-like houses, which formed the little street of Milton Cross,—a pretty but secluded village, in the north of Hanipshire,—stood. the shop of Judith Kent, widow, "Licensed," as the legend ; imported, "to vend tea. 'coffee, tobacco and snuff." Tea, coffee, tobacco and snuff formed. however; but a small part of the multifarious, merchandise of. Mrs. Kent; whose shop, the only repository of the hamlet, might haVe seem ed an epitome of the wants and luxuries of humble life. In her window . candles, bacon, sugar,. mustard, and soap, flourished amidst calicoes, oranges,- dolls, ribbons and ginger bre:ad.—l-Crockery ware was piled en one side of her door-way. Dutch cheese and Irish but ter encumbered the other ; brooms and brush es rested against, the wall ; and ropes of onions and bunches of red herrings hung from the ceil ing. She sold bread, butcher's meat, and gar den.,Stuff on commission ; and engrossed, at a word, the Whole' trade of Hilton Cross. Notwithstanding this monopoly, the world went ill with poor- Judith. She was a mild, pleasant-looking,. middle-aged woman, with' a heart too soft 'for her calling. She could not Say no ! to the poor creatures who came to her on a • SatUrday night, to seek bread for their _ohildren„ however-deep they might already be in her debt, or howeyer,- certain it.was that their husbands were, at that moment, spend ing, at the Checquers or the Four Ilorse-Shoes, the money, that should have supported their wives and families ; for, in this village, as in others, there were two flourishing ale-houses, although but one ill-accustomed shop,—"but one halfpenny-worth of bread- to this intolerable deal of sack !" She could not say, no ! as a prudent woman might have said ; and, accord ingly, half the poor people in the parish might be found on her books, whilst she herself was gradually getting in arrears with her baker, her' grocer, and her landlord. lier family consisted of two children —Mary, a.pretty, fair-haired, smiling lass, of twelve or thirteen, and -Robert, a fine youth, nearly ten years older, who worked in the gardens of a neighboring gentleman. Robert,' conscious that his mother's was no gainful trade, often pressed her to give -up business, sell off her stock, relinquish her house, and depend on his labor for support : but of this she would not hear. Many motives mingled in her determi nation: a generous reluctance to burthen her dutiful son with her maintenance-'—a natural fear of losing caste among her neighbors,—a strong love of the house which, for-five and twenty years, had, been her home—a vague hope that times would mend, and all come right again, (wiser persons than ,Mrs. Kent have lulled reason to sleep, with such an opiate !) and, above all. a want of courage to look her difficulties' fairly in the face. Be sides, she liked her occupation—its petty con sequence, its bustle, and its gossipry : and s h e had s sense of gain in the small peddling bargains—the penny-worths of needles, and balls of cotton, and rows of pins, and yards of tape which she was accustomed to vend for ready money—that overbalanced, for the mo ment, her lasses and her debts ; so th a t, i n spite of her son's presages and-warnings, the shop continued in full activity. in addition to his forebodings respecting his mother, Robert had another misfortune poor, youth was in love. About a quarter of a mile down the shady lane, which ran by one side of Mrs. Kent's dwelling, was the pretty lartn house, orchard. and homestead of Farmer Bell. Whose eldest daughter, Susan—the beau ty of the parish—was' the object of a passion. I almost amounting to idolatiy. And, in good I sooth, Susan Bell was well fitted to inspire such a passion. Besides a light graceful figure, moulded with the exactest symmetry, she had a smiling, innocent countenance, a complexion colored like the brilliant ,blossoms of the bal sam, and hair of a shining,, golden blown, like sAmiill grinithprr----Erlintrh . 51gritnlInrr; librathrr, .2rts;,..i;riturrs, 6tUrrilt s tamrstii Ruh' ~„farrigi 3iturrtisitto; 3lnasrmrat, kr. SONG. the fruit of a horse chestnut., _Her. speech was at once modest and playftil: her temper sweet, anti her heart tender. _Ae loked_RObert dear ly; although he often gave her cause . to wish that she Loved' him not; for, ROhert was Sub ject to ,the intermitting 'fever, called jealousy, —eauselessly—as he, himself would declare, ••• ._ • • • his natural sense to act—causelessly,and tently; but still .pertinaciously jealous. ' I have •said, that. he' was a fine young man., tall, dark and slender : I should add,. that he was f< gOod son, a kind brother, a pattern of sobriety and industry, and posSessed of talent and acquire ments far beyond his station. But there was about him an ardour, a vigor, a fiery reittless ness, commonly held proper to the 'natives of the south of Europe; hut . which may,sometimes, be - found amongst our own peasantry. All his pursuits.' whether of sport or labor, took the form of passion. 'At ten years old, he had gone far beyond all his fellow pupils at the Foundation Sehool, to which, through the kind ness-of the 'squire' of - the parish, his - mother had been enabled to send him ; and had even posed the master himself :—at eighteen, _he was the best cricketer, the best flute player, the best bell ringer, and the best gardener in the ' country : 7 —and, some odd volumes of ,ShakspeaTd: having come into his possession, there (vas some danger, at twenty, of his turn ing out a dramatic poet, had not the kind dis couragement of his master, to whom'some of --hisearly-scenes-were-shewn-hy-his-patron-and admirer, the head gardener, acted as a salutary ,check. Indeed, so strong, at one time, was the poetical furur, that such a catastrophe as ari entire play might, probably, have ensued. .notwithstrnding, . Mr. Lescombe's judicious warnings, hatrifrot love, 'the master passion. fallen, about this time,,in poor Robert's way.' and engrossed all the ardor of his ardent tem perament. The beauty and playfulness of his mistress, whilst they ,enchanted his fancy, kept the- jealous irritability' of his nature in perpetual alarm. He - suspected a lover in every than who approached her : and the firm refusal of her father to sanction their union, till her impitient wooer were a little more for ward in the world, completed his disquiet. .Affairs were in this . ,. posture, when a new personage arrived at Hilton Cross. 'ln addition to' . her other ways and means, Mrs. Kent tried to lessen her rent, by letting lodgings ; -and the neat, quiet, elderly gentle woman, the - widow of a long deceased rector, who had occupied her rooms ever since Robert was born, being at last gathered to her fathers, an advertisement of "pleasant apartments to let, in the airy village of Hilton Cross," ap peared in the county paper. This announce ment was as true as if it had not formed an advertisement in - a country paper: Very airy was the pretty village of Hilton Cross—with• its breezy uplands, and its open common, dot ted, as-it were, with cottages and clumps of trees ; and very pleasant were Mrs. Kent's apartments, for those who had sufficient time to appreciate their rustic simplicity, and suf ficient humility to overlobk their smallness.. The little chamber, glittering with whiteness ; its snowy dimity- bed, and "fresh sheets smell ing of lavender ;" the sitting room, a thought larger, carpeted with India matting, its shining cane chairs and its bright casement wreathed,, on the one side, by a luxuriant jessamine, on the other, by the tall cluster musk-rose, (that rose - of which Titania talks)Sending its bunches of odorous blossoms into the very window ; the little flower court underneath, full of hol lyoaks, cloves and dahlias ;•and the large slop ing meadow beyond, leading up to Farmer Bell's tall, irregular house, half covered with a flaunting vine ; his barns, and ricks, and or chard ;—all this formed an apartment too tempting to remain long untenanted, in the bright month of August. Accordingly-, it was, almost immediately, engaged by a gentleman in black, who walked over, one fair morning, paid ten pounds as a.deposit, sent for his trunk from the next town, and took possession on the instant. Iler, new inmate, who, without positively dedlining to give his, name, had yet contrived to evade all the questions ,which Mrs., Kent's "simple cunning" could devise, proved a „per petuarsource of astonishment, both to herself and her neighbors. He was a well made little man, near upon forty ; with'considerable terse ness of feature, a forehead of great power, whose effect was increased by a slight bald ness on the top of the head, and an eye like a falcon. Such an eye ;it seemed to go through you—to strike all that it looked upon, like a coup-de-No/di. Luckily, the 54. anger was so merciful as generally to wear qiectacles ; un der cover of. which, those terrible eyes might see and be seen without danger. His habits were as peculiar as his appear ance. lie was moderate, and rattier fanciful in his,diet ; drank nothing but water or strong coffee, made, as Mrs. Kent observed.. very wastefully : and had, as she also remarked, a great norm ber.of heathenish-looking hooks scat tered about his apartment : Lord Berner's Froissart, for instance : Sir Thomas Brown's Urn Burial, Isaac Walton's Complete Angler, the Baskervil le Ariosto, Cieethe's Faust, a Span ish l)on Quixotte. and an interleaved Philoe tetes, full of outline drawings. The greater part of his time was spent out of doors. Ile would even ramble away, for three or four days together. with no other companion than a boy, hired in the village, to carry whit Mrs. Rent denoininathis-edds and ends, consist ing for the:most part, of an angling rod and a sketching apparatus; our incognito being, as my readers have by this time probably dis covered, no other than an artist on his summer progress. Robert speedily understood the stranger, and was delighted with the oppurtunityuf approach ing so gifted a person : al thoueli he contempla ted with a degree of generous envy, which _a king's regalia would have failed to excite in his bosom, those chef dx7irres of all nations, which were to him as sealed books, and the pencils, whose power appeared no less than creative. He redoubled his industry in the garden, that he might. conscientiously. devote hours 'and half hours to pointing out the deep pools and shallow eddies of their romantic stream, where he knew from experience, (for Robert, among his other acconiplishnieniq. was no mean "brother of the angle,") that fi.lt were likely to be found : and, better still, he loved to lead to the haunts of his childhood— the wild bosky dells, and the sunny lanes, • where a - stidden turn in the track, an overhang ing tree, an old gate. a cottage chimney. and a , group of cattle or children, had sometimes formed a picture on which his fancy -bad fed for hours. It was Robert's chief pleasure toentice his lodger to scenes_ such as these. and to see iris own visions growing into reality under the glut% ing - peircil of are artist ; and lie, GETTYSBURG, PA. : MONDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1854. in his turn, would admire_and_ marvel at. the natural feeling of The - beautiful. which could lead an uninstructed country youth instinctive ly to the, very elements of the picturesque. A general agreement of taste had brought about a degree of association. unusual between per sons so different in rank : a particular instance • • -t-dance • • • - :Robert had been. for a fortnight, more than commonly btisy in Mr. Lescotnhe's gardens and hot-houses—so busy that he even-slept at the Hall ; the stranger, on the other hand, had been shut up, during the same period, in the little parlor, painting. At last they met : and ,the artist-invited his young friend to look at the picture which had engaged him during his absence. On walking into the room hehavv, on the easel, a picture in oils, almost finished. The style was of that delightful kind which combines figure with landscape ; the subject was 'My-carrying ; and the scene, that very sloping meadow—crowned by Farmer. Bell's tall,. angular house, its vine-wreathed porch and chimneys, the great walnut tree before the door, the orchard and the homestead—which formed the actual prospect from the windows becore them. In the foreground was, a wagon, and the fat nil y,some pi: s ching,s:llne 16ading,some raking after, all intent on their pleasant busi ness. The only disengaged persons in the field were young Mary Kent and Harry Bell. an urchin of four, years old, who rode on her knee on the top of the wagon, crowned .and . -wreathed —wi th garlands—o - • i bind-weed, poppies-and cornflowers. In . the front, looking up at Mary Kent and her little brother, and playfully tossing to them the lock of hay which she had gathered on-her rake, stood Susan Bell—her head thrown back,. her bonnet half off, her light and lovely figure shown in all its grace. by the pretty attitude and the short cool dress ; while her sweet face, glowing With youth and beauty, had a smile playing over it like a sunbeam. The boy was nodding and laughing to her, and seemed long ing—as well he might—to escape from his flowery bondage and jump into her arms. Never had poet framed a lovelier image of rural beauty ! Never had painter more felicitously realized his conception ! "'Well, Robert !" exclaimed our artist, a little. impatient of the continued silence, and missing the expected - wise, "Well ?" But still, Robert spoke not. "Don't you think it a good slbject ?" continued the man of the easel. "I was sitting at the window reading Froissart, white they were carrying the after crop, and, by good luck, happened .to look up just as they had arranged tbeinselyes into this very group, and as the - evening sun Came slanting. exactly as it does now, across the meadow—so I dashed in the sketch instantly, got Mary to sit to me—and" a very pretty nymph-like figure she makes—dressed the boy with llovrers,just ag he waidecked out for the har vest-home—the rogue is really a fit model for a Cupid ; they . are a gloriouS--famNr !—and persuaded Susan"—at that name Rdbert, un-. able to control himself longer; rushed out of the room, leaving the astonished painter in the full belief that his senses had forsaken him. The unhappy lover, agonised by jealousy, pursued his way to the Farm. He had, hither to, contrived, although without confessing his motive, even to himself, to keep his friend and his mistress assunder. Ile had no fears of her virtue or of his honor ;. but to Rbbert's roman tic simplicity, it seemed that no one could gaze on Saran without feeling ardent love, and that such a man as the artist could never love in vain. Besides, in the conversations which they had held together, he had dwelt on beau ty and simplicity, as themostattractive points of the female character— . Robert had felt, as he spoke, that Susan was the very being whom. he described, and had congratulated himself that they were still unacquainted. But 'now they had met; he had seen, he had studied, had transferred to canvass that matchless beau ty; had the timidity which to Robert had always seemed unconquerable ; had won her to admit his gaze ; had tamed that shyest, *coyest dove; •had become familiar with that sweetest face., and that dearest .fra.tne—Qh ! the very thought was agony ! In this mood he arrived at the Farm ; and there, working at her needle, under the vine wreathed porch, with the evening sun shining full upon.her, and her little brother playing at her feet, sat his own Susan. She heard his rapid step, and advanced to meet him, with a smile and a blush of delight—just the smile and the blush of the picture. At such a mo ment. *they increased his misery : he repulsed her offered hand, and poured forth a torrent of qll6BtiOns on the subject which possessed-his mind. Her innocent answers were fuel to his frenzy:—“The.picture! had he seen the picture? and was it not pretty ?—much too' pretty. she thought. but every body called it like ! and 'Mary and Harry—was not he pleased with them ! What a wonderful thing it was to make a bit of canvass so like living creatures ! and what a wonderful man the strange gentle man was ! She had been afraid of him, at first —sadly-afraid of those bright eyes—and so .had Harry—poor Harry had cried ! but he was so merry and so kind that neither of them minded sitting to him now ! And she was so glad that Robert had seen the picture ! she had so wanted him to see it ! it was too pretty, to be sure—but then Robert would not mind the She had told the gentleman"--"Go to the gentleman now," interrupted Robert, ''and tell him that I relinquish you! It will he welcome news ! Go to him, Susan !—your heart is with him. Go to him, I say !"—and, throwing from him with a bitter laugh, the frightened and weeping girl. who'had laid her trembling hand on his arm to detain hint, he dai teal from the door and returned to his old quarters at the Halt Another fortnight passed, and Robert still kept aloof from his family and his home. His mother and sister indeed, occasionally saw him: and sad accounts had poor little Mary to give to her friend Susan, of Robert's ill looks and worse spirits. And' Susan listemd, and said she did not care ; and burst into a passion of tears. and said she was rely happy : and coned never to speak to him again, and desired Mary never to mention her to him or him to her ; and th(n -asked her a hundred questions respecting his looks and Ins words, and his ni nes; ; and charged her with a thousand tnessa.- ges, which, in the next breath, she withdrew. And Mary, too young to understand the incon sistencies of love. pitied, and comforted, and thought it -pas. , ing strange." In the mean time misfortunes of a different nature were gathering round Mrs. Kent. The mealman and baker, whose bread she vended —her kindest friend and largest creditor—died, leaving his affairs in the hands of an actor dev of the next toys-n -41 w pest and tenor of the hood ; and, on the same slie "TRUTH 13XIGTIVT, AND WILL PD.V.VAIf.;" ' It was with a strangely-mingled feeling of comfort in such a son, and sorrow so to grieve him, that she beard Robert's voice at . her side, 'asking tenderly what ailed her. She put the !etters into his hands; and he, long prepared for the blow, soothed and cheered her. "All must be given up," he said, "and he would go with her the next clay, to make over the whole property. Let uS pay,' as far as our Means go, mother," pursued he; "and do not fear but some day'or other, we shall he enabled to dis charge all our debts. God will speed nu honest purpose. In the meantime Mr. Lescombe ' sill give us a cottage—l kriovr he will—and I-shall work for you and Mary. It will be something to live for, something worth living fur. Be comforted, dear Mother !" Ile stooped as he said . this., and kissed her ; and When he arose, he saw Susan standing op- - posite to hiM, and behind her the stranger. They-had entered separately, diirint , the con versation between the mother and the son, and Assn was still unconscious of the stranger's presence. She stood in great agitation:press ing Mary's hind, (from whom sh,, had heard the story) and immediately be ,, an questioning Mrs. Kent as to the extent of the calamity. •'She.had twenty pounds of her own, that her grandinother had left her—but a hundred!— did they want a whole hundred ? And would they send Mrs. Kent to prison ? and sell - her goods ? and-turn Mary out of doors ? and Rob ert ? Oh! how ill Robert looked,! It would kill Robert!! continued Susan, wringing her hands. "I would sell myself for a bonds woman—l would be like a negro-slave, for one hundred pounds !" •"Would you ?" said the stranger. advancing suddenly from the door. and producing two bank-bills ; "would you ? well, we will strike a. bargain. I will give you two hundred pounds for this little hand—only this little hand !" "What do von mean, sir ?" exclaimed Mrs'. Kent, "what can you mean ?" "Nothing but what is fair and honorable," returned her lodger ; "let Susan promise to meet me at church to-morrow, and here are two hundred pounds to dispose of at her pleas ure to-night." - "Susan ! my. dear, Susan !" "Let her alone. mother !" interrupted Rob ert; "she must choo-e for herself'.'" and for a few moments there was a dead silence. -- Robert stood leaning against the wall, pale as marble—his eyest down and hiS lips compressed. in a state kif forced coninosure. Mrs. Kent—her headturning now, towards the bank-notes, and now, towards. er.son 7-was in a st:ate of restless.and uncontrMlable ! Mary clung crying abOut her mother and SuSan—her color varying ,and, her lips quiver ing—slit4Unconsciously twisting and ,uutwist ing the bank notes in her hand. "Well, Susan !" said the artist—who had remained in tranquil 'expectation. 'surveying the group with his falcon eye—" Well, Susan ! have you determined 1" - The color rose to her temples and she an swered archly, "Yes sir! Be pleased to take back the notes. I love nobody but Robert and' Robert loves me dearly, dearly! I know he does ! Oh, Mrs. Kent ! you would not have me vex Robert—your own dear son. and he SG ill, would you ? Let them take these things They never can be so cruel as to put you in prison—you. who were always so kind ! and he will work for you, and I will %work tio you Never mind being poor, better anything than be ralse-liearted to my Robert !" "God forever bless you, my Susan !" "God bless you, my dear child !" burst at once from Robert and his - mother, as they al : . ternately folded her in their arms. "Pray. take the notes, sir !" repealed Susan, after a short interval. ",) , 19._!__that.1 will not do," replied the stran ger, smiling., "The notes shall be your's—err your's—and, what is more, on my own condi tions ! Meet are at church to-morrow morning, and I shall have the pleasure of bestowing this pretty hand, as I always intended, on my good "friend Robert, here. I have a wife of my own at home, my dear ! whom I would not exchange even for you ; and I am quite rich enough to afford myself the luxury of making you happy. Besides, you bayem claim to the money. These very bank-notes were gained by that sweet face Your friend, Mr. Lescornbe, Robert, has purchased the Hay-carrying ! We have had a good deal of talk about you, and I arn certain thatile will provide for you all. No," Continued he, interrupting something that Robert was going to say--"No thanks ! no apologies ! w'on't hear a word! Meet me at church tn-morrow ! But remember. young man, no mor e jealousy !" and, follow-ed by a glance from Sus in, of w hick Rohert might have been jealous, the artist left the shop. SPECIE IN TUE U. S. TREASC --,-The state went of the C. S. Treasurer, published in the Washington culun of Saturday, shows that there is at present in the various ikpositories. subject to draft, the stills of $26,248,1116 40, of which e.'5,849.903 is at New York : if. 4,619.052 at Boston : &4.397,51.; at St. Lohis Ono at the Nev.' Yoik Assay mik e 854 at the Mint in Philadelphia : 5 - !•1.686.959 at the Mint in :` , :cw ()Ile a us. and amounts at other places of it. ceived two letters -frons-this formidable lawyer,- one on account of his dead ,client: the baker,, the other in behalf of his living client, the gro.' cer- 7 who ranked - next Riming her creditors— both threatening that if their respective claims were not liquidated, -on or before a certain 'day, proceedings would be commenced' agiiinSt - lier --- LusagialuL It is in such a situation' that woman most eels her, helplessness---es ecially,that forlorn creature whom the common peop e, a -opting he pathetic langna m <re of Scripture.: designate 'y the expressive phrase. "a lone winnanA" oor Judith - sat down'to cry in powerless sor ow and vain , self-pity. She opened indeed. ier hopeless day-book—but she knew too well hat her debtors could, not pay. She had no one to consult- 7 4er her lodger, in whose gen eral cleverness she had great confidence. had Teen absent, o 6 one of his excursions, almost s low*. as her son—and time pressed upon er--for the letters, sent with the usnal indi ectness of country eonveyance;Originaily given o the carrier, - confided by the carrier to the •utterman, carried on by the biitterinan to the ext village, left fol. three days at a public ouse. and finally delivered at Hilton Cross, by return post-bov—had been nearly a -Weels on he road.. Saturday was the day fixed for pay ent, and this ivaiFfiday night ! and Michael as and rent-day`were approaching! and, tin • ble even to look at this 'accumulation of mist y, poor Judith. laid her head on her fruitless God- anti the,lnfideL Suppose there is a person to whom yo have given existence, who depends entirely npon you for his station, position, prospects, the menus of living, the air he breathes. the food he tiats,.the - -vely muscles, sinews, is es, flesh that completes Iris-,1 - riRY - - the &della-es- honor; right and, wrong, pleastiro and pain, who onee devoted nti theseT•iftg to your I,iitter- est . attoi most inflexible enetoy.-••••,Whotn you have in spite of hiniself saved from the Imi:it-a -ble:consequences his madness, ant reinstated with more glortotiS proSOgets than he possessed before, of renown aod,liiilspinets., Suppose such a person' when you spokti• dis credited your ward; that he Inuilio faith In your honor or intentions, and that' he was re ! solved' to act_as be Pleased Withotit' , constulting your wishes on any subject whatever in remotest 'iegree, Would not Such conduct, convince you that such a person's nature Was so radically' vicious and deprirvell; that left to' itself, it must become thoroughly irre deeinable ? Yet what more can you do than' 'volt have done. to save hint ? Kindness hits hen `exttosted. What remains hut . severity, to prevent bin example'ind corrnption from ruin• ing others? r Such is a faint resetnblauce of the case between God and the iitidel.:--21forg,em. Ancient Inhabitants of Nebraska. On the'ripper Missouri there . C%ititg n trnct Terre or bad lands at one time; probably, the bottom of an , immense lake.,:in *Welt. per. ished thousands of animals having now no representative on earth. It appeark 'tha't, the, waters of this immense pond were retutiiid by some convidsion of 'nature ,Or - otherTand the sediment at the bottom became indurated : 'file portion of the . valley, thus' excavated for Ms-a sntlitee of ninety miles in length and thirty in breadth. The remains of anituals which have lived and breathed long befiiie the advent of-man On earth are here found in such abundance as to form of, this tract an immerise cemetery of vertebrate. The brines are said to he completely petrified, and' their cnvitie filled with salicions matter. They 'are pre.: served in various degrees'of integrity, some Most beautifully' perfect, and others Voken., Two rettlltrkable species of rhinoceros—the first ever found in America—were discovered' here. and also' a sort of panther,•strialler than, the present'variety, and liketvisort number ot strange animals with long name's, unlikeany.' thing which man ever saw "alive. VV:e knew, then. - that there were once rindiVldtials in Ne braska as titions. and ,as strangely'Slinped, and as pugnacious 'as any squatter whom • the present, great rush of itntnigration will carry thither. Business. , . Tf you want bpsineSs;" says' our songibio friend of the bincastirian, advertise. If yeti are a hatter, make 'your name No' fitmiliar to the public that when 'a man looks his Ad hat, and says to, “linnst have anew hat," he Will think' of you. If you' area tai: lor, make ybuiself so conspicuous'-that a Matt will think of you 'every time ho briiiiheli his coat. When a' man' looks at his hoot. this muddy weather,- and says to ,himself, "I must go and buy a pair of water-proofi4," have your name so familiar to him that ho will' think of you and your place of business.' as he does-of his boarding house, when he is hungry.' It is the same way with evei7thing . iind'eVery.' body who advertises extensi rely. Their 11:1111e8 become familiar with the people, and are as sociated in their 'minds so unich with' goods and afticles of merchandise, that all Who want' what they - sell. are drawn. as by instinct, to their shops and stores. There• is nothing like advertising. If you do not believe in it, try' it, and be convinced. A Few Household Hints. Ti While?, The Teetli.—Mixbpney,wiLh flue. iy powdered charcoal-a:lid use the paste as a 'dentifrice.' For the Perviration rf the hands when:Sew•- inl..--Rub them occasiumilly - ; with dry whvAt, bran. . . 'ln &11l Neill and .S•gbr (/,!h a cake 'of' white soap's • few "tinici over it,Ond the needle will,penetrote easily: ro Clean k'nnifture Odico.—Shake off .the loose dust, then lightly brush :with, a faridkure brush. after' wipe closely with clean' flannel and'-rub With dry bread. ivilt make Omni took nearly new. , • TimmonirAr..-I'wo juvenile disputants diS. 4nissed'ai follows in our hearing a day or' two EMI '•I tell you. Goals everywhere!" ".11in'l—neither." "T know better : my Mother 'snyfi so." "Don't care if she does. lie ain't in that mire, (pointing up to the telegraph string) Cos that ain't holler !" . This rather staggered his little reverence for a but ere a minute hail elapsed. a trt urnphant smile lit up his facevis be responded.; don't care, tic's a//round i/ Lbw many a sceptic of larger growth might, out of the mouth of that -suckling," learn wisdom., FA 1,1, FA •4 1110 N.S BoxsKrs. —A eotem ''spreading" himself nn the Fall fashions. re- Marks that as to the Fall .Bonnet, there is noth. ing left of it to speak of. It has been gradual ly melting away, and it is now all gone except a small piece of wire, a feather from rt,spar row's tail. a flower and a half. and three inches of lace. It has apparently reached the last de gree of comparison, and we shall next either have✓no bonnet at all, or an imitation of the combination Of a coal hod and a gig top.—There is some_talk that the next fashion will he a Ahrolow of a bonnet ; perhaps it will ; it is next to it now. How GITN:i ARK SPIRgt). —A correspondent of The London ihrald deseribeshow the Russians. spiked the guns :—"The spikes are about four inches long: and of the dimen:ions of a tobacco pipe : the head flat : a barb at: the point acts as a spring. which is naturally pressed to the shaft upon being forced into the touch-hole.- 1 7 pon reaching the chamber of the gun it re sumes its pos;tien. and it is impossible to with draw it. It can only be got. out by (billing— no easy task. as they are made of the hartlest steel, and being ab,o look in the touch-hole, there is much difficulty in making a drill. bite_ as eifectudly as it should do. Its application is the work of a moment—a singl: tap on the flat head with the palm of the baud:mil- r 7-p e innst rrlichievon liars ai e those NV:10 liVer j , 14 on the verge. of truth. - _ - - TWO, DOUAI'S --A-111.11:. 9 - ituk - AETa - 9 • jßetter lose a supper than" take pkysio. jT7The young lady who caught a gentro nten's- me is requested to yettun it t ,., 10 - A tr - I.‘ ishtnan equiplainerl of ills physician, hat he )11ed 1-: ••t- , 4lrugs, that he was t ht lc stn, :tint so wit iid after he "got riP. lain soniew e ni pi young matt bas threatened to apply the Maine lavrto his ELM fryWantcd.--r A good strong ndhesive plas ter, to make busy-bodies, Mick to their own bu- Sinesh. _ trrlnieri you want a warmhath,,and can't pay for one, just piillyourneighbor's nose, and you . will soon he-in hot water: : :• 'a7"A .piece of the '.bright silver moon" ertvt lately Offered' i change at the hank, but tound deficient jn weight.: .. - • . UtThereit re many e shining qualitiesin the mind otpten, but ! there , ttre .none so useful as.discretion. ,1117"TheOrave.-- 7 -Ab n glyhole in the ground, which loiters'and Poets wish they, Were iti,:but take uncommon pains to keep din of. " [CI . When you are low-spirited, and feel like loOking-ityLthe World-througilLe-Arti take - to-the couritryinsteed of the bottle. :• • ' fr7 4 l7ho'sweetest :sound iri nathre is said to be the ,voiec,of..the latly - we love. is the nuth,who,cries 'lohoLe.r,s-' , . . Esonuotrs lIELD.--A field ofsweet,;patetoei in ti , :ott county, lowa, yields itl husliels LOkthe afire !.. .•- .. _1 .i. , c , r,7'The. barber, who dressed the heaa' ir i bar - re', has been engaged to -fix up , the locks of it canal."' - ' „ . trllingeistorhi now'lightel up'tsitif,gai o' nights.: Would not- the intioduction.tf gal pay . here ? rri—lt is estimated thnt there are three.hun tired rnillien pounds of paper used in,the.Univt ed . States annually. . 4 prayers and Goil'a mercy are like. two, buckets 'Ka well--while ono ascends, tho other descends. „ • • • I ga - A thrifty , wife wonders: why the :men. ean'tll/i nage to do something useful. Mightn't they as well' airitike thetnsetiTS . in siuoking' hams as smoking cigars 1- .1-I.)ne philosopher, ~is, worth 41, thouatON, grammarians. goodseiiseand reason ought - to be. the 'unipiro of all 'rules, both in i c-ient ati4' niOdern. • • (177" A Yankee," describing an-opponent. says: , 41 tell . , you what. Air,. that:Auxin don't, anibunt to'a sum in arithinetitr add . hi 4 and there's,nothing , wearry.l l, , ;e , r7fn the North Carolina Legislature' the'(4 . committee on the judiciary havelmen instruct ed t&report 'oft the piopriety ; 'olabolishing jury trials in the colony ',,!•• :A STEAM FMB 1 1 :11011,11; Gila Bdstow-Mto: city council of flosten have decided .tha4,.6.: steam fire engine' Should be pnrehasedfor the city at an expense of $B,OOO. • I:l7'The New York Dutchman says it is soliry np in lowa, that the people - haie . to`spiin . kle the rivers to keep the boats from kickluguv: 0, dust, • Itj'A fire-engine has just been iotro,dueed4 into one of the hack towns of Wisconsin.—The in-speeking.orit, callsitivfony Wheeled ;117 - A new bitch ..oreounterfult ;X'i, on „tho State Bank of Oltio,, is gektins intn ciroulatien,\ Look out fur die', they ire exceediog,ly will dune. 'Lle,tliat. lotgily praised, will tie clamor, pusly censured„, that rises hastily hitt? la me t w :11 be in danger dr Sitikingi;udtlefily . ton. , r;P•The disnater oinTergoing - ventign Lion, in Sun,' aniithe derelopmerita , InlVie are or LiN.lnwit char:lcier. rj..7./... rile ccjitress of ti!e I fr nocaster Litc•rary Ga zette snvS Ott winitil as' goon tiePtle' het' bohe n 111 CA nest, (if swihgle tow; as nitiari with whiskers to kiss•ber. ' , • Switsbelra , says that, ,weinen have great and grevious - wrongs. Among the num ! ber,: is the-neglect: which allow' s-them-teClive and (lie Sen.SP,le.wouran'that.' • ' Q'j'_The managers of the Nu tioha I Monument: n(tw in ceutrsc, of erection,. announce that, this grtUit work' hag now 'reached the 'height of IGO feet, and has already cost about ft 430,000. • toss CiP , 811X1E. —'On the 2ti . tit: a boat that %cns transporting specie on Ward the , English steamer, Vert". Cr_uz, was capsized , with 019 loss o r $70,000. Oh, this tariff! 1 .- Ttie heaviest tax pnyer• in the West, is N. Longworth, Esq., ,of Cincinnati, whose tax this year is 21.,544... The rate is sixteen and three quarter suills on the dollar. — A Western editor., in answer to a Complaint' of a patron that he did not give news enough, advised him, when'ncws was scarce, to read the bible, which he had no doubt would be •new'. to hius. . • Washington /Jabot says relialde,in formation leads it to, believe that llottATto SEY mom:. in spirt Of nll the efforts to 6f - cal will be declared Governor of eNew York another term. 1 . 77 - A padlocked umbrella has been inventptl for security to owners. A small padlock is. at fixed whichcannot be la eu oft, nor the umbrella, °pond, except with the key, too, 111 a m -tier is, supposed to have alivays iptkt ri- - -.Now, then, Themns.whn t are you bwin= in en my writing - ta ik V' &Ind an author to his . servant. —Only the- paper (hits written all' over; I haven't touctied the clean," was the pls . . J'An editor out West.--ofrerS his entire es tablishment, subscribers, accounts, &e., for a clean shirt and a good meal of victuals. lie been trying the experiMent r of endeavoring to, please everybody. GEN% CASs.—The Detroit Times says the as sumption that Getz. Cass had laid aside - pinttions for the Presidency. is entirely gratui n tons. His friends will hurry his Ilatne - fioward. in, their own time, and he w ill be a candidate: before the National Convention. fr7 -- One of the, political magnates of Boston._ having been asked. jest after the eicetion."Art4 he thought of the whig party thenr!'reptiiii Fit tell you what.. If I had a Ocilla fiet agam4t it for $lO, I. would make affuluyit that it 16 about to leave the State. • NO. 12. CZt tO 1,1 S SEE =EI
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers