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