Br IMRY J. STABLE.
37 TH YPh_R.
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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