111 I * c. F. READ #c , H. H. FRAZA.pt, EDITORS. i'oef' t s yA LITTLE Gana. ISLE. little green file la a lonely lake • • There is In the 'aka -northwest ; 0, the lovelieit ishr in the month of May! There the wild birds sleep and the wild birdi wake, To flutter and sing as the breeses shake . . Their young in each mosaboilt nest : 0, that lone little, iste! - HoW loved it the vrhile, .1 was wild and arkerry as they!_ The flowers are bright In the velvety grass, , And blighter around the springs 0, sweetest Bowers of the month of May! As over the waters, as dear as.glass, - The snowy swan and her younglings pass, Her bugle-horn tune she sings 0, that bright little isle! How I loved it the while '- I' was tuneful and roving as thq ! A rocking canoe, of the white•wood tree, • I had in that pleasant h&c ; • A kiaglike bark for the month of May !" ' Where the running pine and the roses be, My sisters paddled along with me, _ , Our coronets gay to make; 0, that dear little isle! How I loved it the while I was young and light-hearted as they ! 0, little lone isle of the silent like, _" Far off in the cool northwest, My spirit is thine, in the month of May! Thou art beautiful yet, though billows break O'er my light canoe, and theorillows shake Their locks where thi4ovely rest 0, thou sweet, blessed isle ! • t I will cherish, thee, while There are tears for_such`dear ones as tiler. j.ife, Pessoii. From the 'New York .Ledger. 3T31171111111213V,' -OR.- - TELE - TWO CITY CLERKS. 13T - srLr.orre.ccinn, JR. "Show me - how a young man spends his money" said a wise and good merchant, "and I will tell you at.onee his futuie . prospects:" There is much truth in. this ; and an inci dent of real lite is now present id Inftnemory 'whit:lllday 'help "point the inure! therein contained. . . . Oliver Hudson and Albert Ryder were of the sanie age ; both .were reared in the same' town y they had equal advantages in, all social' and , moral points; and the most aente.observ er Of human nature could not have told which had .the best mind. They Were as near alike as,tAlo_youtlis could .be ;.anteyen their par ents Occupied' social and pecuniar- positions °filme same degree. They - were' good, hon est:boys, and generally respected' and belov ed. At the. age of fifteen, these tu•o boys earns to the great city: - Their parenis had obtained go id places for the m, and bright hopes light ed!tip their paths.tbii ver Hudson . was placed ~ia'the store of a merchant named Elisha Rushton, and Albert Ryder ttiok a position exactly corresponding in the sture of Hugh Buxton, Both the merchants Were wealthy ;" both 'honorable men; •and both engaged in the same kind of business.- A' sear .passed away, and nt the end of thautime the two. boys had become pretty thoroughly acquainted with city life and City manners; and both had • formed a habit of spending their evenings either in the streets, or at some place of amusement. Their com panions did so, and they followed the exam ple.• . One evening. they were party given by a friend, ai took - Altoer freely of wink ing morning, Oliver Iludat yore head ache,, and with a _pervading his whole frame. debau'eb.' He had frequently' taken 'a glass of wine before, and thotiThrit no harm ; though he knew his mrither,would be very unhappy were she to know it. On the present occasion, Oliver felt badly. The idea that he had committed a heinous crime was not with him ; but he knew that he had done wrong. It was the :first touch of thebarbed point in his soul:, Innocent in-in tent, the result of his sin was . heavy upon him. COuld he bare continued on in the same course the next morning's sorrow would not have been so deep—the. next lighter atill— c until, by and by, familiarity" with the feeling would have blunted it to the soul, and it could be laughed off over a glass of " plain soda:" But this was the first fall, and the youth 'was -startled. The events of the previous night were dim and indistinct in his themory after ten o'clock. Ile had been intoxicated ! He had been in social companionship with those who were not good men. ' Ile bowed his heal and thought if his mother. Angelic presence! God surely sent thee . in Wit all-important hour! • There mine a tap upon his door, and -the servant handed in a letter. It was from - his mother ! It contained twenty dollars in hazdc-notes, with her good counsel and • love. si t e wrote him ill the news, and finally closed her letter thus "And now, my own dear boy, suffer me to speak with you once more as of old. Do not think for one moment that to lead yoU in the right path, I, know your love for your mother would guide you aright.— And ,yet I cannot help praying for you continually. Evety night I am upon my knees asking God to bless an 4 guide you. When you hear the clock strike nine in the evening, you may feel that you can join your prayers with mine, for Then am I praying for my first-born—my well beloved son. Remember your mother, and' you cannot go astray. OM you will not allow another to usurp my place in your confidence. You will not forget the promise you gave toe when you were pure and virtuous. That promiae, well kept, must ever keep you as you were thin. , " I send you a small awn of money,' beciuss I know your pay is not , sufficient to supply you with many. superfluities; This will pure6se books, so 'that your evenings may be profitably spent. I know that, my eon will make et good use of his mother's to; ken ,of undying. love. Be sure that' - , your hooka are of a true, manly character ; and combine' sound in tellect with Ileum in your matter for reading. I 'ln ow that in the daytime your business keeps your wind occupied.. It iis that your evenings may be morally and profitably spent that i'your mother most .earnestly Prays." The angel came at the right - moment Ol iver read these two paragraphs Over a second time, and then fell to weeping. - He knew that he was to his mother as the apple of her eye—as the very joy -fount of her soul Had he done as he promised her he would do ? Mal he done as his own good sense told him Pat' should have dope? No. He knew that beyond the bound Of - right, the single step is wrong:: He folded the letter carefully up lad put it - awat,.and 'then .pressed his lands upon his brow., , ge 'stood so . a few moments, and finally he turned his eyes homeward. . • . . • ...-, , ~... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ~ . . ' '.. - +.--'-'.- '-':.' ' -•':0 - :1-: - .".- - -- ,-. . . . . . '• " , . . , . . , • ~ . .. . ~.. - • . . • ~ . . . • • - ._ . ' . --.- - ..... ... ... , . . . - . . . . , . - . ~_ ... i , . ..' . . 1 :: • ' 6. ~ ..., . . • . ... . .. . . ~ . ,:- .. ..i , ::. ..-, .).• . • ~.•••1TH. . ...H .. ,... '::: . . .. ._. . . .• .• .. .... .. --. . • •,!. ~ • ... .... ........ ~., . . ... ~ . • . • .. . .. . . . . ... . ._ .._ • _ . , • '[._ • . • • . . • • . . . . . _ . . . .. . - . . . . _ . , .... . ..,.... -..- , A : -I ' -.. : . - • 1 ''.;- . : .. . . • , . r. •., .. , . \ • . • ~ ... , . ' ' ' - ' . • , , , . . , , • MUTLIER," he said, a Gee. '-neart-sent tone, "I will betray' thy eon et never again!" • . • • Albert Ryder awoke on. that 'jute morn ing. with a head-ache too. But;,alits !he had an evil adviser witlihini. 17; , - " One glass of brandy , Al., *id you'll be all right!"`ss. ' So „Albeit took the glass . of :.ln.andy, and under, its stitnulitin,g. influence huffelt physi cally better, • '4 On the next evening Albert e around to Rushten's store and asked °lifer to go to the theatre with him. ,But Oliver ysaid he had an engagement he epuld not brea And so, evening ',a ft er evening, Albert came after his, friendtiow fure theatre— now for a, stroll up Broadway ' ', w for a whist party--or_mayhap, for it me , of bill. iards,—and always .ii• was the sane answer. "Tam engaged.. I . ! r ook . ye, Olive," cried Albert, as he mute one evening for . his . friend .' to go and see a new circus coMpany, " whit do you mean! Aint there a female in theiquestion?" "Yes, Albert,-1 must. acknottiedge- that . • "Aha—l've found.you,- - haVe I A female eh? . - Oh, Oliver, .1 didn't think tat of you. , .gave I A . ..idn't think t at of v.. But wit is she? , Cirnte—out wi it :.Who i 4 she ? .. ; . - \ ,"My'...Atotheri Albert !o ! , 1" Eh ? your mother ?" repeated4he . giddy youth, with a sudden softnesti Jo .tone. " I didn't know she was in the city:" l i - f ' ' " Nor' is she. AL ' But her n e. prayer. ful love is with me ; jand my sac 'd promise .1 is with her !" . I t, . . . " But; you used .to go with iN, 01. ' you Were not.thus a month ago." . "Because I did not realize how surely I was falling away froM my promi.:," replied Oliver, promptly. - "You remen •,,er the last evening we spent together.: , 0 the next morning I had. a headache." "So did 1 01. ; but I soon: got Over it." . " And so did I get over min Y; and over my. heart=ache, too. ' I saw then,"lbert, that I was not safe while spending Tr! :) evenings abroad. I saw how 'I was de.parti :g from the precepts of one who lilies only ft. the good of her children. No, Albert, cannot go with, you any more. I have 'I 'ked at the matter in all its bearings, and I k ow there is no safety for us in spending cl r eVenings abroad. The influer.ces-are all ba. In this great city the good and pure ir dueneei of life are confined to- the home eir4e, and cer tain socialaSsemblies of-good pedlzde. They are not found in the streets, and,:much less are they found in !Wise saloons - Iv 'ich we have sometimes visited : ' No. Let us break from them. Come to my room. I.ify'rnother has sent me money, antl I have bong t some val. able books. cimii to ray coo -,' and we'll read them to each Other. Coulee "Nc, io ' "OliveA-nct now. ' / Conte you with me. Come this Once." :' • " Ah—' this onc:o . is a dangert[, s step, Al. One step from the edge of a i - reeipieeis death! One step from the pathof flight is Wrong ! . you will coo a with me, we will pass our evenings toget Think, Albert,. before, you make up our mind. You know your mother loves y aswell as my mother - loves] me; and st('" would be -equally sad to knoW that ,you hi ~:fallen" " Pshaw ! Don't be a fool, e bvor! Do you suppose I haie no eyes? Don't you suppose I know what is safe, an I , hat isn't? Do you suppose-PM going to `shut up in a store all day, and their shut m self up in a house all night?. - No! not by 'lon chalk —now I tell you!" • -T " You misunderstand me, Al shut myself up all night. 1 fre ~"tusgs - and then for exercise' '.*ltiittery every morning be: " Pooh'! That's the time whi sleep. But you wont go with ri ." No---1 cannon" 1 . " Well, then I Must find somebody else. And, mind you —f ine of these drivs well see if you wont change your mind.l " If' ro I find 1 am' wng, 1 nit certainly shall," was Oliver's reply, as h'' companion turned away-. 1 The two, youthS had Sup ' that their conversation was heard only by hernselves • J - but they were mtstaken t in this , They had stood by . the door of the countidg room, and Mr. Flushton was within, thong he had not yet lighted the gas. He had jut started for that purpose whea:the first requ tof Albert Ryder was made. A natural d 're to hear what would be his o.oung clerk reply in duced him v.) listen. So' ha h heard the whole; and he was,not sorry. • Elisha Rushton 'was 'a good d true man, caring nothing for 'opinions whi sound rea son would not sustain, and ready to do all the good which lay in his power. .nce he bad been in the habit .t f . trying to 4erlook the moral characters of his clerks, an of ad vising with, them, and offering them 1 ;stance in the path of Right. 1 But he had '' il v received i ss the title of a meddler for his firr4;fforts, and had 'been .imposed lupim m his*eond. So. now he had established this titie rule: He would give no advice which vraii not asked, unless he saw a youth in intme4te danger'; and . all his clerks knew that anyiextended ir regularity would be the sure sighalior their discharge.. 1.-- ,f, -T,1"'"! , ~ For three months after- the conversation _took place between , Oliver'amt Albert the former was watched by his employer very narrowly. There seemed to .bEio, subject of more than ordinary, import ' ,toretipying his thoughts; for sometimes, when hjecould gaze unnoticed upon the handsome, li#ppy, health ful face of Oliver, he would sic!, for half an 'hour without once removing Ma eyes from the object of interest. ~. ,li . 1, h,_ One evening,, as 'Oliver sat. *tone in his chaMber, the servant-girl came #nd informed him that a gentleman wished to elcome up and see bid. - the youth bade her Ito show him 1 up ; and in a few minutes afteqards he was not a little surprised upon seeing b is employ er—the• wealthy merchant hithself-- - --enter his room. 1 t i - i. common civilities wenttpassed, and tb n Mr. -Rushton; sat.• downj , and looked ar ' und. He saw a neat, sunatantial book , well idled with good btibks ; a few etioice pictures upon . historical iiuljects; _and ,-, a table, upon which ;were 1.444 paper, pens and ink, drawing materials, iiiid a flute.— The merchant glanced at the tiliok which Oli ver bad just laid doWia,-with his t mark" care fully, placed where he bad left of reading, and saw that it was " CoOrra's Vaum..". "Do you read Latin ?" . - 014 r. Rushton. asked. ,r t r Not much, sir,".loplied tile, youtb, mud , , ' -. ."..V12Eg1DC),n. AVID Eqedfflr .aOADA - 01 1 . * L4wgplr, amp wn0.a.0099 estly, "i t studied it $10113,3 iwien at school, and 1 tho I might as wellVivote apart of my time t tas not. 1 find that I can get along very )(ion by reading a little every evening.' uvery •evening ? Do you spend every iveaing here'?" Alinost, sir, I go to s good lecture pm std then." • "Then you dolt go out much evenings 1" “ No, sir." " Don't you like it ?" Well—l should like to walk out oftener, perhaps, if there were any pleasant places in which to walk ; but this city doesn't afford many such, sir." • "But most young men of - your age find plenty - cof pleasure abroad in th; evening." "I suppose so, sir. And .yet it is but a flashing pleasure, after all. • 1 fear 'many of them are purcintsing present • pleasure at the eost' of future suffering. No, sir—l find pleasure abroad. I will not say-that there is none to be found. There may be much. In feet, I know there must be much of real pleas ure to be found - in our great city by those who are • thoroughly acquainted, and know' where to look for it.. Ido not mean that the city is void of Bond, or of true pleasures. But, sir, I am—" . un.•- :You - are what'?" " sir—l do not feel-safe tO trust my self in the society of those • who _seek their pleastires away froth home every eVening.- , 1 may be weak, but if I am, I am: willing to acknowledge it; However, 1 have one con solation : It' I ;don't venture near the fire 1 shan7t be burned." "You'are right, Oliver—very right,' -re turned the tnerehatit, ‘varinly; and then -he added, in a sort of business tone-- . "But l must broach the subjeet.upon which ['called. How do you like your botiiding place r " Why, sir—l like it as well as I think I should ally hoarding-house," answered ()Byer in surprise. • " Would yoti object to changing , it ?" pur sued Rushton. . . "Of course not, sir, ifyou, wished : it." "- t - du wish it; aid I'll tell you why : I have tt very small family—only - my wife and one child—and I would like..to - have one of thy clerks always by me. Very often I want to look over accounts at home; and then I often Want to send business errands to the store in the morning before I wish to go down myself. •If you'll come and LoiLrd with. the you shall have a better room than this* and I'll keep you for nothing; so you'll have three dollars ands half per- week to buy . books , with ; and," moreover, you shall have the free use of my library.", " • "Speak Ont." "I will do anything you wish, sir." The merchant seemed surprised. He had supposed that . the youth would tire been deeply moved by the proffered attention. "L oily wish you to please yourself, Oli ver," he said, a little more coolly than he had before spoken. • "I will speak piaitily,,sir, for 1-know you will not be offended," returned the"youth,.col oring. "My parents are not wealthy, but they are honorable and . respected by all who know them. • I appreciate your kindness, sir —but--1 shout 4 not feel happy—l—l—should . not feel at home in any house whet* there was a class privileged above tne.. You may . think me foolish—but—really, sir—" , Poor Oliver broke down. Tie couldn't tome at it as he wished. At first a look of utter astonishment settled upon the tner chant's face ; but gradually the light broke in upon hirn, and the old expression of pride' Amine back-. " Aha—l see, I see," he cried. t‘ You think. I meant to Lake you into my house, and place you on a social par with my servants'?" Oliver looked surpriSed in turn. "Am I right?" " W hy—y es, sir." I don't ently go to ,ewalk down arc the store n I want to e, then? "And •would you thank_ me for tlatr " Yes, rsir ; bemuse I am clufident that you would propore nothin g to a . dependent which was not - meant for g "Thank you, Oliver—thank ydu. • But I meant no such. • I have 'no *on—a—l meant for you to txane and occupy a place in my family as an honored and respected member of that family. Now Will you comer Oliver lludson started ti d caught his eniployer by the hand. Ile ied half-a-dozen times to speak; and finally managed to say - " I should be very happy, . sir—very— Imo „ * - * * The dwelling of Elisha Rushton Was - one of those quiet, unasseiliiiii , structures' which would seldom be notice d as the abode of wealth were itacit tor the exter.sive conser vatory, the open garden. and,, the carriage hope,- Where land is alino,it worth itswn superficial 'area in silvjr . coin, .only grea t . wealth can retain such sources of gr ifica don. Within the merchant's house, al, was a izi substantial and of real worth. - The furniture •as massive; the ornaments pleasing to the ey and " to sense ; while the whole was made ' su - lent to comfort.' Mrs. Rushton wail a woman of sound, Practical 1 1' , havirig . started in life as the wife of a oo "elerki-lind being able now to look back - n the past - , and feel that - at ev ery upward tep she -had been - by her hus band's side. ever lagging behind to be lifted up,, rise pint g upon him to drag him back. They had, but one child—a daughter— named Emily, She' was now fifteen—just a year younger than Oliver. She _was what fashionable people would call " io-59." She was not a beauty, because there was no par ticular "style" to her features. In frame she was full and plump; and in feature fair and rosy.. H e r face was a bed of roses and sweet smiles, and her-laughter was inspiring. In short, sto; was one of those whom. Love marks for its own; Her appearance inspired none of that awe .and distant- admiration which your set beauty commands ; but the I first feeling upon becoming acquainted with Emili...Rushton was confidence and love. And into that society was Oliver Hudson thrown, Fior awhile be seemed - fearful of' approaching too near; but gradually this feeling wore off, and at the end of six months they were free and easy in each others soci ety. And _this feeling had not been Oliver's alone. No, - no. - Emily had fora long time treated him-differently from what she treated all pther naleceequauttances. She had been more disitant and reserved, and tie More res. pectin!. But, as.we just said, this all wore A and they beeame , happy as could be in each other's society. Oliver was a bettet looking youth than moetof those who visited there, and then he hid , that in his soul 4 and . , CNA MONTROSE, THURSDA , , JULY 16, 1857. brain which supplied the mate ial for many a happy and profitable hour. . ' Three years had passed &laity frOm the time of the two boys entrance nto the great city. They were now eight n years of age. i Albert Ryder was an exce4nt salesman, and as he managed to stick to! his business durintbusiness hours, his emiloyers asked no questions. But Oliver Hada* saw what many others did not see, for be looked thro' the eye of love and solicitude. !He saw that Albert's face was not so fresh end fair as it used to - be; the eye -win not ko clear and bright; and the step web not so fihn and buoyant. : l' " Albert," he said, as th e tiro met one evening at the stAre of a mutual friend, who was on the verge of bankruptcy, Od with whom the former had asscitiated much of late, " will you let me speak a feW plain words to you ?" . . " Pooh ! What's the use? I know all you would:188Y, 01." "Never mind, let me spatlc. Corae--Aet us walk." - , There was something so cairn and i4incere about Oliver's manner, and at the rare time so dignified, that Albert could not raise ; so they walked 0ut... - . . . _ "Albert," commen ced , the other, in a deep, earnest tone,. " you are goinedown hill !". . " Met_ Down jilt?" repeated Albert in surprise, „ ” Yes—you are going down hill, . You are. becoming the slave of appetite !L,Stop.— Let me speak. , I.aim at your good; - Albert —at your good alone. God bear pe.wit ness when I say—For yonr .good If would sutler much!' You are not sate. Ah—you can feel it now. Your eye, Albeit, is not the eye you brought froM beneath YOU'f moth er's roof! That red .and blurred expression I cannot see but with ph . Albeit-I-my friend—my well' beloved—you are standing upoit the brink'. You cuti return now in safety—a little while, and it may be too late. You are becontiny an inebriate!" "Stop. Oliver !" cried the young niedigal. "You wrong me now. Yot know better than that. Albert Ityder become a drunkard ? You know better !" "Albert—answer me truly : What makes youreye l so red, and your flee patle?— What makes your hand tremble, and your lip crisp and crackled? What .makes you shun tate so often, and refuse to listenl Tell me, fur I know - that you ha,caaiptc.pcvof vf my love." . Albert was silent fur some moments, and when he spoke ins voice was low and !alter ing. " If I shu n ned you, Oliver, it was because I didn't want to hear your lectues." " Well, my old" mate—rify,„ companion. of other days," said Oliver, pt s sgg hand upon the other's shoulder, and lipeaking with a trembling voice and tearful eye, " this once let Me .speak, and I will trouble you ne more. You may after this seek those who ea flatter you more fully, and speak more tileasing language to your ear. Only t'.; , 'od grant that they may not turn your mother ' s. laiiefest hope from the path of rnanhooa." I AlbCrt bowed his bead, •and wafsilentl ;and Oliver: continued; in, the same touching devoted tone, " klbert—gire me your erening and I !will give you peace and joy! Oh !listen.to !me now. Lay down is new rule;: Maki , your evenings subservient to your real good:. ,Spend - them in your. own home, Over your !books. Cast oil' the evil compapions you 'have found and find better ones.? Seek for : good and true men, and cultivate alaste for iknowliAge. Loiok at bim wholki store we bare just left. One year ago be started . iii ;that store with a clear cash capital of thirty !thousand dollars! Now—nolo=he is not worth one penny !' Aye—be is worse—he is deeply, deeply iu debt! 17.0 u know what has done it." -1 "Yes, Albert you. Fill,' it was wine; then it was a stronger drink;' then it was evenings abroad, searchinefor pleasure in saloons, and on the street = corners. And, finally, the gaming-table finished the work! Am I not right I" • " How should I know 1" "Have you not seen him.tbere I" " In. "Aye, Albert—have you not visited those earful dens with him? Have you not 'lost iour substance at the gatni4 table?" "Oliver, you've been dogging me!" " Hush! Speak not in tl4t, tone to me, Al ert. not so to die only man in all is great wilderness of humanity who has the honesty to tell you time truth, and the love to care. for you for, yourself! I have Watched you,—aye—vrith au schin. heart ! But the secret is locked , up in the bosom of Your friend. Not even „to my ownimother would ',whisper it.' , &Ware, Albert,—be- Ware of the 'precipice! , You are upon its Verge! Turn and be safe! If you want companionship I will. intioduce you into a . sbeiety at once genial and pure. What say you ?" I "I—l—know you mean well, Oliver • but yOu are entirely mistaken. I am as s afe as you are. I can let •drink alone at any mo ment!" "Then do it while you have the power; for I do assure you that the power will soon leave you! The very , glass that you leave untested, if you please, Is, surely one more pcirtion of power,if tasted, towards_ binding more firmly the hains of your. enslavement. I - 4e . who (An' let-drink lion if he pleases, may not see that be is gridually losing that very power upon which be . founds his hope of safety. Come Albeit;—come with me! " j" Nut now. - Ah, r here tome some friends. They are searchifor toe. Good night, Oliver." - ,Thus speakingthe reckless youth tithed away and joined a party of three like him. self, and they went off atter such pleasures as they were in the habit of finding—joyless, math*" plessures--withe -in a night, and leaving only the dry, . . sharp thorns, stork and pie Oliver wet— . his misguided friend until he hid passed from sight, and then, with a sad heart, he tunted tovrarth his own peaceful' home.. (Time sped on, and finally Oliver Hudson began to grow unhappy. 5 . . Ho had been ad. vaned from post to post; until he was BOW beacl book-keeper, with at salary of three thbusand' dollars per annum. Mr. Rushton ncitieed the young man's dejected , manner, but for a while he said nettling. Emily no ticed it, too; and, she aiked him wfiy be was oo sad and thotightful.l , . He put her oft' many times but at length she was determined to. be put off no more. She found Oliver alone one evening in the parlor, and she went to his side and placed her arm-about his neck. " Oliver," she 'said, in a low, earnest.tone, " tell me what It i:s that affected you so.— You have lost some near friend—some one whom you loved well. Come—l will sym pathize with you. Trust your secret to my keepinv. " " Y ou e synipathize cried the youth, starting up from his seat, and gazing almost wildly upon the lovely girl. . nu—you —Emily Rushton! Oh! you know not my- He stiumled a moment—the tears burst from his eyes—he caught the hand that glid ed down his arm, and pressed it to . his lips. And then with a deep groan,he hurried from the room ! Emily gazed after him in Aston ishment; but gradually the light broke in upon her, and with a sadden tiemor she sank down upon the seat he had left. The maiden called to mind a hundred little words and actions of the past—she reflected npon'the scene which bad just transpired— and then she bowed her . head, and • bright drops trickled down the long silken lashes and fell upon her bosom. - Her - father found hei• thus. lie wound his arm about her, and asked her why she, wept. - " I have discovered Oliver's secret !" she' said. "But he knows' it not." . a a a • -* a a Tile wealthy 'merchant took his_ young book-keeper by the band and gazed into his face. "Olier," he said, with' a loci!: and tone of - firm purpo4e, "I Wish to know why you ate so elianged. Tell rue, sir. if you have one feeling of respect for 'me left, I wish you to tell me." . • The youth struggled .with hts emotions awhile, and finally he answered in a spasmod ic, broken tone,-- -"I will tell you, sir . but, 0, you' must not•think I have roken faith with you. I could nut help it! But henceforth I may_ re deem-all. I can stay beneath your roof no more, I cannot remain . The young man brOke down here, and turned away to hide his emotions. " Oliver Hudson," spoke the merchant, almost sternly, " I thoiight you knew - me. better, Your preSent course .iiidimte.s but little confidence - in one who has thus far been to you a true friend.' 1/0 you remember a conversation you held with Albert Ryder some three nionths before I took- you into, my family?'-' •Oliver -started, for the memory of that meeting with his quondam companion flashed upon him at once. . • Yes, sir," he; replied. well " "And Loverheani every word you•utter ed on that occasion," resumed the the mer chant, earnestly. "1 knew, that one who held the principles you then advocated; who held in such deep reverence the memory and lessons of a mother; and who was determined to live up to them, must be a pure-minded, -honorable, and virtuous youth. For. three months thereafter I watched you narrowly; and-I engaged one in whom . ' could confide to watch you evenings. The result was, that I found you to be• all 1 hoped. And then eama a deeper and more important plan. I had a child whoie future welfare was my most anxious study. She must have com panionship; and early companionship does much toward shaping human destiny, .She would soon find associates in the opposite sex. I looked around, and among all her acquaintance•l could not find the youth whom I eyed fully trust; There may have been many; but I did not put confidence in the influences which surrounded them. " I brought you here; Oliver; and when I found how firm you were in truth; hOw stern in duty ; and' how mild and , gentle in disposition, - 1 hoped that, you might -live on to manhood, and that, at the proper time, 1 might place my child in your keepin_ she might be yours to love and honor--y -to guard and protect—yours forever! She loves you, Oliver—she has loved you a long Lime. She %quid be ' very übbappy if you were to go. kway ; and, should you stay away, one of the brightest hopes of ihy lite would be. wrested from' me! IVhat say you now!" - "God bless you!" And that was enough. • From That hour the old joy came back to Oliver's Ewe, and he was happy as man can be. He held Emily to his bosom, and told his love;and when she smiled the happy answer, t hey wept together for pure joy. And yet time passl on. Oliver Hudson became the partner of Elisha Rushton in bu siness, and when he had seen the full bloom of manhood he led Emily to the altar, and became the , husband of one of the fairest and noblest daughters of the city. His aged mother was present at the. nuptials; and as she gazed upon her boy she felt that in the pride and joy of the present moment she was more than' repaid for all her care and anxiety in the past. - Oliver had looked ,for his old friend, Al. bert Ryder, but he could not . find him. He ,had left Mr: Buxton's store, and they knew 'not where he had gone. Time rolled on, and Oliver became a fath er. One day as he was coming up from a ship, the cargo of which belonged to him, he saw a poor, bloated ragged outcast lying un der some ioards on the pier. He stopped and gazed into that face. Could it be possi ble!. Yes. It was Albert Ryder! - Oliver spoke lo him, but he was senseless. Then he went back to the ship, and , called up two of the men, and had them carry the senseless form to the nearest place of refuge. Here he engaged a nurse, and provided for all the' poor man's wants ; and left a note for Albert, in which he stated that if he'ivould, try to help himself, he should be saved. At the 'end of a month, Albert Ryder took- Ins place s in Oliver's store. He wan thin, pale, and - weak ; and his frame trembled ;and but for the stern kindness, and mild prompt. ness of his true friend, he would have Wen back. But he conquered the enemy at last. He became a man once more, though - not the happy, joyous "men he might have been. His youth was gone, and all its memories were sad and bitter. "He was a man, indeed, but, alas I there , were traces .of the wreck which could not be effaced. Away is the quiet churchyard of his native villaga there -was a grave, o'er which the tall grass,of a twelvetnonth waved. His mother's mould ering form hiy there! Her grey hairs had ' I ELPRAZIER, PUBLISHER—VOL. 8, Pico: been brought down In sorrow to the =TOW house of clay, and the prodigal , knew that he was guilty ! Oh ! had it • not been fot that, he might have been happier. But he-sought the balm of a contrite heart, and asked God to forgive him. He performed his duties well, and was a faitaful clerk and salesman. He re garded his ,employer—h is. companion in youth—bis savior now—with feelings of deep est reverence and loge. He emulated Oli ver's virtues, and strove to repay him for all his kindness; but Oliver's happiness he could not reach. That was based upon the sure foundation which he had-neglected- - the foun dation which could not - now be erected upon memories 'such as burdened his soul. "Alas!" he said, as he sat one evening in . Oliver's pleasant parlor, and held Oliver's eldest boy in his lap," how few of our youths realize that otie great truth of city life: As a young man spends his'evenlngs, so shall the influence thereof remain with hint through all the alter years." Under the head of "The Stranger Aloft," the Chien° Journal' has the following glo: rious and glowing article,. radiant with a faith as sublime as its imagery is perfect : There is a splendid fiireigner coining this way, even into our flintily circle—our nice cozy family of Planets—end is making him self at home, about our heartbstone, the Sun. The juvenile portion'of the household, the - lit:- tie felloWs of Asteroids huddled together - to keenwarm—we hope he will se, them in time, and not tread on the children. jupiter, max be, will gird his belt a little tighter, and Herschel; we see, wears as midi jewelry- as . ever. while the only fighting member of the family, Mars, , with a flush in his face, keeps going about as if nobody was coming. This foreigner, hOwever, is not altogether . estranger; he has visited us before, but a long time ago, and his sojourn was as brief as a ballad. Very grand be is With his splen did trains a number 'of mites longer than tire . army Xerxes led, and in a great hurry he seems to be, like one pn businesi bound, but if he could or would tarry a moment before he goes a visiting, just lung enough to comb, his hair, we think it mightbe safely passed to the ea edit of his personal appear:mice. But that being none of our business it will not do to be strenuous • and indeed, who knows what sights he may have seen, to cause each par ticular hair to stand like - quills upon the fret ful porcupine?Sights' in that upper deep stranger that darence saw in his dream. , \Whoever he is or whatever he hasseen, he is just a guest, and we are all hospitable peo ple, we Planet. and wish him, like good Christians, right welcome, for is it not writ ten,.!‘ Forget not to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained Angels una wares?" remember it • We . have'called him a: foreig ner and a Stein ger ; perhaps we were a.lit tle too fast, for it , may be he is "only .a traveled gentleman, ands one of "our , folks;" in fact, a first - cousin; who has been abroad, and returned at last, with the news, to the old homestead. A pla i n family, we ale : rural people, in deed, as anybody can tell, who on a clear night loiAts'off at the lights of the great Astral City, so Far and so many,lbat they seem, wo ven into a silvery scarf of delicate lace,; aa if God had flung it down from, fits great central throne, and it'fluttered there in sight, forever for a ' token. Now, fur anything we know, our illustri pus cousin, the Comet, is on his way from the Capital--4 king's conifer, pe rhaps—and r hascrowded threaded the streets, .and has passed the suburbs fad has crossed the great azure fields of the country of God, and, has gone out of hid lay, for memory's sake, and has come to ouflittlp settlement: But it is - strange what queer stories some people tell of him as it he was a lawless fel low, and was'out on a " lark " instead of on dlityi We think it unkind, this gossip, and itia protest He is a dashing feliew, we know, but then they are no Sabbath-day journeys he takes. The country we live in is one of magnificent - distances, and even the thought is breathless that only goes to the neighbors, and flies to the starry cottage whose small lights twinkle in the oueskirts of our hamlets. Who knows but-he has seen the lost Pleiad in his Wanderings; has met" Orion in armor on his way; has counted the jewels in the sword hilt otPersens? Perhaps. he has flat tered the hair of Berenice,.'or paused at the Northern Crown, or heard the Harp of Heat en, as, he passed, , or bearded the Lion in his starry den. Aldebrand may have glared at the Stranger; the river Po, that flows through 'the fields of the Blest, perhaps he forded dry. shod. A pilgrim Co the Southern. Cross, he may have played St. George to the Dragon, distanced Pegasus and paid court to Androm. .eda. Did Arcturus delay him, or the Beth. intimidate, or Sirius turn bite aside? Did he dash along , among the Nebulae, those morning clouds of creation, those visible breaths of Deity ? Did be solve the myste ry of Cassiopeia and linger around the ruins of the brilliant world that went out like a ta per three hundred years ago ? The laboratory of God is somewhere ; did he paw' it, when the doors were ajar ? There is a sinless world among the stars ; did thdy see the Comet in their offing? . And our guest himself; is hitt solid glebe, making a mighty wake of light, and glowicg like a furnace, or is it a magnificent Will o'r the Wisp floating about the Cairene? What' if it should be an abandoned world, drifted, from its 'Moorings, dismantled and'lost, and wandering like a ship in a winter sea? ' Or a wild outlaw madly plunging from system to system, and• . making terrific descents upon peaceful planets, scattering confusion and death? - And if this bust should be, and the Ader roida are indeed the sparkling ruins of some pleasant world'destroyed by such a visitant, and the route of the Comet across the path of earth has been truly divined, and our small craft should be just -there atrit dashes into our unfenced highiray—what then I If a huge globe of granite and red sand•stoue, why, there might.. be more Asteroids in our solar circle, and ilrag,menta, like the pieces of a min. ror shivered by a blow, might each reflect the sun, and move in orbits of its own.. If such a thing could be, and human life remain, how wilder than *dream and madder than *death: The child playing in the garden among the flowers, mother stretchigg forth her hands in vain-the garden and We homestead In two worlds. The wife just parted from her hue: band, might be divorced by a broad abyss of empty, unnavigable air. The daughter of THE STRANGER ALOFT. BM some house and heart, who went with blee• sings from the sheltering reef; would • ne'er retail. The hunted debtor on one slde,Of the cleft, mi,ght lime his Creditors afm., as on their island world, they 'drifted out to . sea. ben on one small planet of their OM would • be two that love, for whoni *lime the rain 'should all. a narrow ribbon of groin Ogri.nF be woven; and theeloudy bow yet keep Lsoct * promise good. Somevrhere, alas! upon one atom of the world alone, Juan Fernandes in the sallies) sea, a soul might dwell whose ato ry no De Foe should ever . write. - And such & thing might be, that this bold - comet should entice away a simple satellite to wander in its train, should .hasten it be yond the lead and line of teteieople•ray ; be. yond the cloudyMaOlen of Heaven; away. where light has just bqun to be ; beyond the stars; beyond the reach of sumaier and of dun. , There are no outlaws 'mid the world' of God ; true as His. Word, the splendid engine moves harmonious; as docile,.our. far sentry : Neptune, on his rounds sublime; as.the bright planet dew poised on the aspetesleaf., The world is going somewhere; our little amity of planets are on'd journey, and sure: ly it is pleasant thus to-travel- together: -way towards the 'dim north west where the _ constellation of tho Eagle spreads his star lit wings, we' are moving—the, kingly s u n and his splendid company of retainers. Along the highway of heaven we are go ing; and to angels' eyes, it must be a pageant worth beholding. - Who knows but what we are bound to some far distant court, ruled by an elder' sun Who knows .what grander I 'grouping, by and by, may light the' hollow of our cloudless nights? And these Comets limy be the couriers of our radiant prince, whose. torches flare afar, ashastening to and fro, along the route we go, they ever and anon, return with tiding*— "-the way is clear--niove on," and , wheel a. - gain, and for awhile, are seen no more. A fragment of their route, like an arc of Apol lo's broken - bow, the Astronomer - hat grasped in that weak hand of his and has completed the orbit, and- calculated the return of these heralds of the king. .lf• no - world beguiles them, and makes them loiter by the way; lo ! here their blazing torches startle the witch ing world, true to the prephet word, and•a; gaitc those tidings come to Science' listening ear; "the highway clear, oh; liege, the pass on !" -• • No blind and blundering vomderers are a they,•to plunge among the , peaceful fleets and wreck the craft whereon aGA d&cended, and an Eden smiled. On some high mum's. sion, the Comet goes and comes • to ualsbc• swinges the - pendulum of the e arth; whose' souls a summer zephyr may ,waft',forever from,,orriarted lips, it is even'as some swift cloud that drifts along the , sky, in whose pear ly and: crimson folds there may be death; but what a dolver Of beauty there is in the rain; what a breath of blessing in the shadow; - what a token , of hope in the bow. In - God's good keeping all, the sparrow's flight is guided; and the route of the falling leaf. Wandering, they be, these _Comets, but not test, for their route and time-are-they not .all recorded in the boOks of the Admiralty of high heaven ! • • - • There, indeed, is the' strangpr, the fiat In the seas, Yet'she drives boldly on in the teeth of the breeze. Now her imws to the breakers she steadily term; • . Oh! bow brightly the light of the binnacle barest Not a signal for Saturn this rover has glee; No salute for our Venus, the Sag star of Heaves; , Not a rag or a ribbon *defiling her spirt. It has saucily sailed by "the red planet Mars:" She his doubled triumphant the Cape,of theft*, .. And the sentinel stars without firing a neat.: - Now, a Saga the rfbre and the misses untested, • She is bearing right gallantly dowa on the world" • "Helm a port !" right Show a light!" 1 : She wlfl run us aground!" • • "Irue a gun! 'Bring her to!" • " Saillaioy, whither bound r - Avast there, ye lubbers!. Leave the nuider'skiief ' Tis a craft "In commission"—the Admiral's own- And she sails with sealed orders, unopened as yet; Though her anchors she weighed before Lucifer sett Ali! she sails by a chart no thughtsnaueouhl make; Where,esch.eked that an trail, and emit wave that Where each Planet is enduing, each star is at rest, With its anchor "let go" in the blue *fibs blest; Where that sparkling Seek the asteroids Se; Where the searfotredeteredng Is thug es 4410 : - Where the breath of the sparrow ie adning the air .• On the chart that she bears, you will .ind that all there! •- Let her pass on in - peace to the pert whetme she mune, With her tackling* of ire atyl her strounert &flame, A T.usfire Breti.—We saw the talking bird Mino at his home, in Tremont street, No. 74, s few days i h and were muck tw washed and pleased. It is - difficult to give an adequate description of hire. He is about the size of the. American crow blaek-bird, though a little heavier. Hie length, from the tip of the bill to the end orhis tail featheri, is about twelve inches. He has a yellow bill .one indi in length. His plumage is remark; ably beautiful, when it glistens in the rays of the sun. It is a very rich variegated purple and green. The wings are nearly black, with white bars near the rod& The feathers the head are-very short, fine -and thick, and resemble the richest gloss of dark velvet...— He has a long and beautiful 'Appel of bright yellow extending from the back of his bead to the nape of his neck. There is else a small yellow oblong mark on each aide of his bead. His legs and claws are yellow. Us tongue is long, pointed - at the'end, broad in tie Mask and fiat, thus differing fronrthe parrot, Wl** is round, short, and somewhat curved. Mr. James Mann, the well known Inside r inist, informs us that the Um birda, - in ogled, are natives of Jiva, and that they are rare even in that island ; moreover, that they -sel doni talk. They -haves great appetite, mid will eat , voraciously cooked or raw mest, bread,potatocaind fruitialt4so they *PP" to relish simpla meal and niiik. Mr. mann possessed a Mino bird some/years ago; *id& could whistle and imitate different. sounts i but it could not pronounce words.- - - The bird Mine, in Tremont Street, the property of Mr. J. Chtilsey, has a fine tenor voice, and shows whit may:truly be termed intelligence. We have scitin several persons looking 'Admiringly at him,nnd have ; . heard -him say, in the most distinct. manner, after, he has good Intently,. apparentlyAbiteein to the ronveroation, - "A)ty pante A; " tar-waiting some thne, as itegeeting item. Onset to be ,bestowed-wpon be bas raised his beautiful bead lad ptoudly "1 Mino Is a pretty . lf. no perms caws any words of preiskbeluMpr about bialuipt cage a few times, turns bis Udt toile aeon fished spectators, and indiguantly and empist• - ically saYth ln a sharp tone, i* Go sway I ,p away I"; He then gives .a loud , and .bearty guffaw, exactly like tbe "Its-hahi l" of a bah man being. MEI
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