McCollum IC (6trritson, Proprittors. AUTUMN. FEOX "RUE DISLIIIESITED, A MIANA." B - Y S. W W.T. Hail, lovely Autumn! thee of 'seasons all That end the roliug year, I most adore. At Thyapproath, Pornonia smiling comes, And pours her bounteous horn Th' husbandman, With joy, beholds a meet reward for all His toil. Plenty reigns not here, but would, bad England% marshaled hordes, for deeds of foulest Wrong surpassing e'en the Hoeft and Hun of Old, °e'er vezed•these sunny shores; ne'er seat. tered Devastation c ivoe and. death o'er Georgia's Fair dninain ; ne'er forced oar gallant soup to Leave th'. soil untitled, their homes and friends forsake, And fight th' batt'es of the free.* How balmy Is.thecooling south disporting 'mid the Serried grove, and toying with thetcrimson Lessestibrat - aasble o'er thwrosuret !Swell The Atainglrearena glow ;ith tints which rival In voluptuous hues Italia's , Skies. With what luxurious robes of !Purple and of gold Sol drapes the &cling lacer, as.toward his ocean couch he igirels his Finding earl- •Loveiy scene! transporfiog to The soul that Nrure's inspiration feels! Ay,.magnifieently grand, beyond all Power of portraiture with tongue or pen, Are the Creator's work's, that fill the pensive, Cultured soul with love fpr Him who out of Chaos *peke th'wondrotis globe, adorned it With such multifarious charms, and sent It forth to run, in ceaseless gyro, 'mid kindred Spheres, around th' throne of everlasting light. lb/Maier, is made to the period of our revo lutionary strur,gle. NOTHING TO P. 4 Y. -Nothing to wear and nothing to eat „ Are nothing at all to shinning the street— There's nothing worth singing at this time of day ", Bat the glorious freedom of *Nothing to Pay." Ify friend round , the corner, you see by his look. h compelled to take care of both sides of the book ; While his neighbor next door is so radiant and gay - Ton may bet on your life he -has "Nothing to Pay." John Smith in his office sits calm and sedate; The wave has submerged him, he yields to his fate: his notes hare lain over, they'er out of the way;_ 'For same time, at least be has " Nothing% to Pay." Tim Noolan, his porter from over the sea, is as free from all care as a lark or a bee; Tim blesses the gods, as he moistens his clay, That unlike employers, he's " Nothing to Pay." The school boy who sighs for the beard of a • man, And to be isnurEsnErrr as soon as he ran, May comfort himself that, what'er the delay, Until twenty-one be has "Nothing to Pay." The , maiden who weeps fee the false one that's gone ; And left her deserted, 4tisaadresed, ilono, Ms this consolatiero...tbcnigh lovers will stray, Lovely damsels, unlike then, hare " Nothing to Pay." ' The4oldier who gone to the .land of the sun To fight against Sepoys erilietnows—al noe— ls ineki at least, as he comes froia the fray • Minns arms. minus legW, that be's `Nothing to Pay." The"panimr in poor bout, who lives without Provided with food and velment to wear, - May chuckle once more,. that while others de. fray His erpeosee; itelonly ', Nothing to Pai.”, Bata 'truce to all jeitiiig—ifm,atters don't mend Very soon, Hessen only know* where they will end—: But this much is eertain—there will be in the Bay 1 / 4 . State (perhaps there's alfeady) the "Devil to ..• Pay." B P. From the New York Evening Post. PANIC POETRY. THE EAT OF TICE DERECTOOL. Respectfully. Dedicate d to the Directors of the R. R. C o,e by a Fleamized Stock. holder. Who, when th&:timea were good and bright, And apeAlationliit its height; Made Railroad sham appear all right? Directors Who, when my money was paid in, Aunred me - that the road,Must win A large per centag on the " tin r Wh 3 made the cost increase so tact, And shared in contracts long-and Test, An&fdled their poekski to the lases Who flattered me with hopes of gains \‘ From "branches" "airAinen," trains , " And"feeders," Wading to the mains? Directors. Who, when the chine* seemed rather blue FOr dividends and earnings ton, - "Cooked" the accounts to make them "de?" Directors, Who know the arta of financionl, And charge fat fees as eodorserb, And tork at pleaatue, 4 ' bulls,' or "bears?* • Who when grave doubts arise in this, Seek lands "where ignormnea is Miss." : And think large " sella" there not amiss r Who swell the load-of Boating debts, And set alLsorut of traps and nets, i Who catch theyublie with their frets - = ' • Dirttore. Whom should stockholders' gourd with care, Lest they be cheated'" hide imd hair," • Aod all their hopes prove empty air, • An Old;Baohelor'stollioqny. "PArree, CLervart. l'arrEn. Ohl dear me, what shall I ado!" said a di , .ccinsolate old bachelor, to himself as be raised his - drooping eyes toward heaven and despairingly throwing himself down in hi , old aim chair, which fell to him as his portion from Lis great-grand sire's estate. " Here it has been raining these two long days and nights, and everything looks frowningly upon me,a poor old bachelor, doomed to live and die unknown." Walking up to the mantle-piece he takes down a hag mint of a looking-glass; be then takes a survey of his face which has been long neglec ted: "Firstly;my hair it considerably gray,wlll I can get me a sleety wig by going a few miles, and I'm sure that will, make me look ten years younger; then there is my fore head, that will betray me, but I can get some powder (not gun-powder) such as the ladies use, which will cost me but little or nothing. on't that be complete! Yes. 11l try my luck- again, I'll fool some pretty' young 'damsel—see, when shall 4 start r As theys words fell from his lips,' his great mouth opened, and to his surprise, not a toollh to be seen. Shocking! it was too much for his feeble frame- 1 again he sank back into his old armed-chair. "No, not give it un— til go to the dentist this,.day and get me a whole set of pearl-whi;e feetb."; So saying lie takes doin his hat and bU'itons up Lis coat; at the same time looking wistfully at his old friend—his walking stick—but that won't desso he'walks joyfullyaway,intending to return in the morning apparently a young man about twenty five. Soft were the rays of the risingaun that threw their gal-like tints around the lone domicil of the Old Bachelor. With much difficulity the little gate at the lower end of the garden opens—a tall,graceful and apparently young man emerges from the dense thicket, which has been known for many years only as the haunts of an unknown Old Bachelor. With a light heart -and , an elastic step he soon reaches his home in safety: Again he is seated in his old arm-chair; how beautiful everything looks to him now. The birds never sang so sweetly, the little modest flow. ers which have long been unnoticed—now tone escaped his observation. " But,'", says he to himself, "no time is to be lost. Well, let's see who shall have the honor of claiming this hand; there is 'Squire lliggings. he has several daughters, but Mina is the youngest, not over fifteen, then the is such a sprightly girl, just the one to keep off the blues—ye., Mini it shall be—kings erivy me of my pretty little ife." Thus ran the Old Bachelor's thoughts. To-eight I will again set - out to seek happiness—yes, bliss, if I am so fortunate as to get Mina for my wife. All she will have to say is to whisper that title word, vzs, softly in my ear. .Is is not quite time yet," says our bachelor soliloquizing, " I shall pass off much more briHantly in the evening." Slowly the sun sank lingering in the west. Now a star peeps forth fiom behind the curtained ski, now another and another, now the whole heaven is bespangled, sparkling like so -many diamonds, now Luna . looks down smiling, doing her part of making the heart of our Bachelor happy. "It is time," says Le, closing the. door e ---a few Ainute's walk arid. he finds himself at the door 'of a stately mansion,—his heart fails. "Can 1 I can I! yes, I can.' Ile rings the bell, s -a servant appears and-invites , him into a beau tiful room brilliantly lightetand every thing speaks of wealth and splendor. Our Bachelor is taken with a slight cough, but soon musters courage enough to ask if Miss Mina is at home—the servant replies, she is; would yon -like to:see her! he coughs violently and re plies that be would. The servant leaves the room and soon a young and blushing girl en ters. Mr. Bachelor introduces himself as a merchant_ from New York. Miss Mimi is much pleased with the stranger's appearance. and time glides very pleasantly away until the clock strikes twelve! Mr. Bachelor whis pers in her ear,.and Mina blushing says yes; be 'grasps her delicate little Land that lies listlessly by her side, imprints a kiss on her rosy cheek, reminds her of to-morrow eve, and they part._ The bachelor soon arrivettat his lonely home, and again surveys- himself in the glass; scarcely realizing that Le is the sires being as yesterday, and again takes bit Old arm chair, but is scarcely seated el* be is sleeping. And such a sweet:sleep. A little fairy form with laughing eyes and rosy cheeks dances lightly up to his side, takes off his wig, and washes histice. . Mina . you rogue, is it you! She laughs, and dances 'merrily away. A terrible squall from his half starved cat awakes him. Well upon my Ward I bare had a strange dream, says the. bachelor, but thank my stars there aint a word of truth in it. Slowly the day rolls away with the bach= elor, but the evening shades find him at the door of the stately mansion; be is about 40 step upon the threshold alien he bears voices . in the arbor beneath, and Mina's clear tansi es! voice rings out upon the evening air. Ile leans against the -lattice for support; fresh 'breeze sweeps by and fans brow, and with renewed strength be rings the . The servant appears andinvites liar into the brill , iantlylighted porn. Everything looks fa , miliar, but Where is. Mina,_he eagerly inquires. Why intent ye beard f a 'pretty young me; chan4wonsltlew York arrived to-night'. and they have gene out walking. no( sits old friend of heti,' and I gneria"..they will step,' off brand-by. The bachelor waited to hear no more,but tied, he 'knew Atir eared' not whit her. Ars. Fatigue' 404' ready' Ili - sink ivisli::_detai;;., Directors Directors. Directors: Directors. " WE ABE ALL EQUAL BEFORE GOD AND THE CONaI'WITIUTION.".....jaines Montrose, SusquOanna Conntg, fenn'a, Ttursttap e Darning, Robrinber 5, 1857. he stopped at an Inn by the wayside and as ked for lodging for the night. In the morn ing-might have been seen, an old man leaning upon a staff. Stmogers passing paused to look at his.pale dejected Countenance, and learn his history. Be was the disconsolate Old Bachelor. Be totteted about a few day; apparently just on the borders of the rave, and finally disappeared—none knew or cared whither. And now young men take warning by the fate of the old bachelor—don't wait till your heads are silvered o'er with age, your face needs powdering, and you become toothless, but arouse from your slumbers in your youth ful dais. isr, DILL. THE HOMESTEAD. "How dear to My heart are the scenes of my childhood." How sacred the recollections that eltwer at :rand the snot where we were' born--; he spot where we ti rr: learned to look upon the beau t es of nartve--tbe green swwti— he waving corn—the sta.ely tree—and the little, clear bulding spring at its toot, from which,dti.ing lire long, long dAra of *rummer school, we slaked our ; or sought a short-relief from the, tiresome, sirst;glit , batleil school house bench; the rinp;ing brook, with its grate bank, and speckled trout, and liulo falls Ora: turned the tiny wheel. • The place where we 6 , 4 chased tire grty butte:fly and timid " chipmunc ;" where firm. we . tangled the grass of the mower by search; ing fur the delicioui strawberry, and where first Otte plucked the bright tempting cher rr, the tumult peach, the dainty pear, and are always enduring and ever glitefal apple. Where, with brother' and sisters, and little visiting friend*, we had our playirouses--our ovens, of sand—our acorn cups •and Bailees, and plates of broken china, and made the miusture stately calls and formal tea parties; and with what stately stride we imita;e4 the walk of our elders in doing it; where we play ed " keep• whool" and "preach." and anon with bard-back blossoms or cockerel's fea.ber in, our calla, we strutted forth, the embryo defenders of our country's tights, the volunteeis. Tie place where first we learned to linen to the rapturous notes of the free happy or chard melodist—tbe robin and her ns..-cLiates —to the chattering ssr.llow, and the plaint; ve s hippoorwi 11. 1 tie place Where first we learned to lisp be names of ater and mo•her; and to ut er the fi at pure sentiment‘ of laternal love or brother. and for "lister dear." But above all, and more than nil, ti'e a lero tlic hol y love of mo:ber tatylit infant tongue to rerete, and onr ini;nt to p•ay,"Oui FA:Le-, who art in Heaven_ how itcitocely and indissoluble con owed wi b, how wholly enshrined upon, the spot a Leie we were born—the old homestead —ate all tet_ol.ection of the pure go-ling joys of early yea.s! And who, in af.er life, can •ee a stranger lord of that manor, wirh oot a pang of so: row I Who would not tLeu feel that +such liasseasion is Fac ri I igi ouzil "Give, Oh, give me back my boiiie, iltiv own dear home." WHAT 11 . ;. NEWSPAPER DOES FOR NOTHING. —The follorajog article should be read and pondered well by '"every Man that takes a newspsper.without paying for it. The res ult ofroY:ebservation enables me to state, as a fact, that the I publishers of news papers are more poorly rewarded titan' any class of men in the United States, who invest an equal amount of labor, capital and tbo't. They are expected to du more service for less pay, to stand more si ontirg and . "dead beading," to puff anti defend more people without fee or reward, than ony other class. They credit wider and longer; get oftener cheated ; suffer more pecuniary loss; are of tener-de victims of misplaced confidence than any other ailing in the community. People pay a priqter's bill' more reluctantly than any other. Ittoes harder' with them to expend . a dollar on a valuable newspaper than ten on a valueless gewgaw; vet everybody aesils himself of the use of the editor's, pen and printer's ink. flow many professional and political- repu. tations and fortunes have been made and sustained by the friendly, though unreqnitted pen of the editor I How many embryo towns and cities !wive been brought into notice, and puffed into prosperity by tbe press ! flow tunny reiltrinis now in successful operation, would have fmndered but for the assistance of the "lever that moves the world ;' in abort, what branch of industry. or activity has not been promoted, stimulated by the press! And who has tendered it more than a mis erable pittance for its mighty services? The bazars of fashion and the haunts of appetite and dissipation are thronged with an eag er crowd, barit , gold in their palms, and the commodities there needed are sold at enor mous profits, though intrinsically . Worthies; and paid for with scrupulous ' ' punctuality ; while the counting room of di" newspaper is the seat of jewing, cheapening, trades, orders and pennies. It is made a point . Of honor to liquidate $ grog bill but not of dishonor to repudiate a printer's bill. STOPPING A Talan,—We remember an in cident that actually occurred on the Boston, Concord and Montreal Railroad in New Ham s'ilre,_a few Tears since. One day the engin. eer of a down train RAW a wagon on -the track atone of the crossings, and in it an old lady who was waiving, her checked apron and gesticulating violently. Stippming some thing was wrong he signalled urgently to break .ap", and barely succeeded in stopping the train before it reached the crossing. The engineer hardly yet,recovered from his ire. pidation, demanded of the old lady what was the matter I But she wanted to se* the con ductorsnd upon his Making , his ieppeanince under cousidentble excitementAhe asked him ' If there was apybodrou'ihri train who wanted to buy, seine blueberries t _Pie feelings of r; the conduCtoalheit - 4 very good natured main. may be better imagined titan described. The train was on time when it reached Con co rd.-:-.Bosion%touraot. - • jar Before marriage, a arum is very much ittivek'iritli the woman, and Afterward , the Omit I,rery mUch struck: by the sum. Pinch pime_cif b*rets all ttirpagt. . CON OICEEPE `AND THE GOLDEN CUP. BY R. SHELTON MACKENZIE. In Ireland, as in Scotland, among the low er ordets, there is a ptevalent belief in the ex istent e, and isupetnaturalrowers of the gen try commonly called "farie.,"_ liany and strange are the stories told of this . misterious and much dreaded race of beings. Loud and frequent have been the exclamations of surprise, and even anger, at the hard 4.rAu lity which made me ref Use, when twas young, to credit eit i tl'at was narrred of the won derful feats Of Dish faties—the moat frolick some of the entire genus. The more my dis belief wan manifested, the more wonderful were the legends which were launched at me to overthrow my unlucky and matter-of fact obstinacy. I have forgotten many of the traditions which were thus made familiar to me in my boyhood, but my memory retains auffiuient to convince me to what improbabilities Supersti tion clang—ands the more wonderful the sto ry, the more implicit the belief. But in such ca-es ;he fanatici-m was harmless,--it was of the head rather than of the I estt--of the im arrinalion rather than the rea-on. It would be et foc.unate if all superstitions did as little mis chief as Ws. It i• deeply to lie lamented that the mat lec-of-factednektrOf the Anterieans is not sub dued or mod.fied by any--even the slightest —belief in the old wood supentitions of whi t .li I ,peal:. Of fitlykoe they 'cannot, and they do not, possess the slightest item. They read of it, as if it were legendary, but noclicng mote. They feel it:not—they know i.--;hey are ale-eft:ire, dceadfuily actual. So much the wnr-e for them. Baying imbibed a sovelign contempt for the wild and wonderful ttadrzions which-mid been duty accied.ted in t neightco.hood, time ran of mind, I .never was particulatly clnyy in expres,.ing such contempt at every oppc r unity. Woen the mind of a boy sows • above the ignorance which: be-et; e!clets nan infetior station, who have had neither the chance nor the - desire of being enlrghien ed, he is' apt to pride hint-elf, as Id d ,on the " march of intelect" which has placed him superior to their credulity. Ninny years have passed since I happened tobe a temporary visitor beneath. the hospit able roof of one-of the better tort of farm( rs, io the county of Coik, during the .Midsummer bulid s. As usual, I there indulged in sar casm against the credulity of-the country.— Oue evening in particular, I was not a little tenacious in laughing at the very existence of "the frsily folk;" and as sometimes happens, tidreule acoomplirdied more than argument could bare rtfected. My hosts could bear anything in the way of argument—at least of argument such as mine—they eould even suf fer their favorite legends aril theories about the fairies to be abused; but to laugh, at them—chat was an act of unkiLdness which goi.e passed their comprebension, and griev iously taxed their pa:ience. My host was quite in despair, and almoit in angel at my boisb jokes upon his fairy legends, n hen the village schoolmaster came in, an uninvited but most welcome guest. A chair was soon provided for km in thewaim et-coiner—wir4ey was immediately on the the table, and the schoolmaster, who was a pretty constant votary to Bacchus,. lost no time in making himself acquainted with its flavor. spot our bp: I bad often seen bini before. He combined in his character a mixture of shrewdness and simplicity ; was a most excelent mathemati.. cian and a good clas-ical scholar—hut of the world he knew next to nothing. Frcro youth to age had been spent within the limits of the over which, cane in hand, he bad pre sided for more then a quarter of a century-;---- at once a telcber and an oracle I He was imbued with a belief of the superstitions of the district, but was more especially familiar with the wild legends of the rocky glen (the defile bear Kilwortb, commonly called Arag lin, once' faMons for the extent of elicit distil lation carried on there.) in which he bad pas sed awaY his , u , efully but, humbly employ. ed. •To this eccentric characeter my host tri umphantly appealed for proof respecting the existencti'and vagaries of the fairies. He wasted DO time in argument., bu?,glancing triumph. aptly around, declared that be would con vert. Me by a barticulirly well-attested story. Draining his tumbler, and incontinently iag anokher, Mr. Pairick McCann plunged at once into the heart of his narration, as fol lows t " You know the high .hill that overlooks the town at Fermori Handsome and thriv ing place as it now is, I remember the time when there were only two houses in that town, one of them was then in course of buil ding Well, there lived on the other side Corran Thietna (the mountain in question ; though Corrig is the true name) one of the Barrys, a gentleman who was born rich and good. I wish-we had mole of the stamp scow us now—'tis little the Whiteboys or IlibTnmen wopld trouble the country then,. Ile had a fine fortnne,.kept up a fine house, and lived at a dashing.tate. - It does not matter, here nor there, LOw many servants he had ; but I mention them, because one of them was a very remarkable fellow. His equal was not to he bad, far or near for' love nor money. "This servant was called Con O'Keefe.— He was a crabbed littlexcraa,. with a face the very color and texture of old parchment, and he had lived in the family time out of mind. He was such a small, dwarfi<ti; deenv to e, that no one ever thought of putting Lint to hard work. All that they did was, now and again, from the want of a better messer,- ger at this moment, or to humor the old Irian, to send him to Hathcoirnac post•ofice for let ters, But he was to weak and feeble to walk so far—though it wan only a matter of three_ or four miles ; so they - got him a little am, and he rode upon it,as proud as a general at - thehead of an army of conquerors. 'Twas as a play. to see Con nouuted on his donkey— .you could scarcely make out which had the most stupid)ook. But neither man or beast, tarn belp his looks. . , "At that time Ratheormae, though. ',tin but a village now, was .a borough, and sent two members to the Irish. Parliment. VAR not the great Curran, the orator i►nd patriot, member for Hathcormac, when he wag a young man I Lid mot Cologel Tonson get Enl o e An I r i s h pe e r, out-of this very borough, which bit son William is, to ibis day, by the title of Baron liiterdale. 2atheortna4; 1— . . . Does not his shield bear an open hand be tween 'two castles, and is not the motto, "Man us loc inimica tyrannis'—which means that it was the enemy of tyrantsl • Did not the Miter King of Arms make the • Tonsons a grant of these arms, iu the time. of Cromwell I But here I have !eft poor little Con mounted on his donkey all, this time. "Con O'Keefe was not Worth his keep, for any good he did ; but, truth to say, .he had the name of being band in glove' with - the faities; and, at than time Corran Thierna swarmed with them. They changed their quarters when - the . regiments from Fermay barracks took to firing against targets stuck up at the foot of mountain. -Not that a ball can hit a fairy (eicept'a Silver one cast by a girl in her teens, who Ilea never wished for a !crier, or a widow under forty who4has never sighed for"a second husband—so there is little chance that - it will eVet•be cast,) but they hate the noise of firing and the seed of gunpowder quite as much as the devil hates holy water. '-- , L'Tis reckoned lucky in these parts to have a friend of the fairies in the house with you, end that was partly the reason why Con 0 : - Keefe was kept at Barry's fort, Many and many a one could(' swear to bearing him and the ' good folk' talk together at twilight on his return from Rathcormae, with the letter hag: .My own notion is that .if he had any- thing to say to them, he ha&more sense than to hold conversation with them on the high. road, for that might have led to a general discovery. Con was fond of a drop, and when he took it (which was in an algebraic.• way, that is, ' any given quatoW)2lle had such fammis spirits, and his tongue went 113 glibly, that, in the absence of other compani,he was sometimes forced - to talk to himself, as he tottered home. 4 _ .. One night, as he Was going along, rather the worse for liquor, he t4ght he head a confused Found of voices ,n ; the *ir , directly over his head.. He steppe 'and sure enough, 11 4.1, it was the fairies, who wersil,ithattering away -like a bevy of magpies; shut he did not know this at the time. "At first he thought it might be some of the neighbors ,wanting to play_him a trick— So, to show that he was not. Afraid (for the drink had made him as bold as a lion,) wh i en , the voices above and aionibd him kept calling out " High. up, high up'!' he put in his spok e - and shouted as loud as any of them, "High up ! high up with ye, My lads !" Nu sooner said than done. ;He was whisked off ,his donkey in a twinkling, and was ' high up' in the air in the very middle of a crowd of `good people'—for it happened, to be one of their festal nights, and the cry that poor lit tle Con heard was the summons fur gathering all together. Although Con , had the reputa tion. at Barry's fort of being well acquaint ed with them all, you may Well believe there was not a single face among the lot that he - knew. " In leas than no time, off they went i wben their leader—a little morsel 'of a fellow, not bigger than- flop-o'-my Thumb—•lligh for . fur Fiance ! high for France ! high over r Off they went, through the air—quick as if they were on a steeple chafe. Moss and Moor—mountain and meadow=green geld and blown bog—land and water, - were all left behind, and they never once halted until they readied the coast of France. "They immediately made for the house (there it is called the chateau) of, A great lordone of the Seigneurs of the Court -and bolted thintigh . the key-hole into his wine -cellar, without leave or : license. Mow little Con was squeezed through I : never co'd understand, but it is as sure as fatethat he went into the cellar with them. They soon got astride of the casks, and commenced drinking the belt wines, without waiting to be invited. Con,. yon may be. sure, was not behind any of them, as far ash the drinking went. The more he drank the better reli,li lie had for their tipple. The good people,' somehow or other, did not appear at all sur prised ttt its being among them, but they 44 wonder at his great thirst, and pressed him - to take enough—and Con was tint the man - who'd wait to be asked twice. So' they drank on until the night slipped away, when the sun--like a .-proper gentleman as he is, sent one, of his earliest . bearn4, as a sort of gentle hint that it was 11111 time' for them to. return, They had a parting glass, and. in half an hour or so had crossed the' wide sea, and dropped little Con (' pretty - well . l thank yeti,' by this time) on the precise spot Ire bad left on the evening before. He had. been drinking out of a beautiful golden cup in the cellar, and, by some mistake or other,: it had - slipped up the sleeie of the large lopse coat he wore, and he had brought it .home with him. Not that Con was not honest enough, bu.t surely a man may be muted for taking a 'cup too much' in a witiecellar. "Con was soon awakened by the warm sun beams playing upon his fie... At first be thought he bad Leen dreaming, and he might have thought so until his dying day, but that when he got upon his feet, the sold en cup ;oiled on the road before him,--ana was prOof positive that all was reality. . 14 He said his prayers directly between Lim and harm. Then be put up the cup and walked home, where, his little donkey had returned on the previous night without him, the family had given him up as lost or drowned. Indeed, some of them had 'sug gested the probability of his hating gone off for good with the fairies. "Now, does not my story convince rou that there must be such things as fairiest— it is not more than twenty years , since . ' heatd Con O'Keefe tells the whole story from be ginning to end ' • and he'd say or swear with any man that the whole of it was true as gos pel. And as sure as my name is Patrick McCann, I do believe that Con was in strange company that night' • I ventured to say to Mr. McGirr that be ing yet incredulous, I - must have better evi dence than little Con's own declaration. To be sure you shall," said he; " Was not the golden cup taken up to Barry's fort, 11114 to be seen—as seen it .was—by the whole country • • . . I answered that,:" - Certainly if the cop : is to be'seen there, the ease is materially altered." " I did not say that the cup is at Harry's fort," said Westin; Only that it was. 'The• end of the story indeed, is nearly as strange as the beginning :—WhenCorCO`Keefe came back from this wonderful, excursion, no-One believed a word of What - he said fn= though it was•whispered that be was gre.rit with the . fairies, vet when the matter came triintibly before thorn, they did not credit it. Hut Con 'soon settled their doubts b; 'bringing foroard the cup, and there was no gainsaying that "Mr. Batty took the cup into his own keeping, and the name and - re.sidence of the French lord being engraved upon it, determ -1 shed (as in honor. bound) to send it. home again. So he went off to Cove without-any delay, taking Cun with him ; and as .there luckily was a vessel going off to France that very.day, he sent off little Con svith•the'cup and Ads very best Compliments. " 'l4`ow,..the cup was a great faiorite with the Flencyord (being a pied of family plate given to one of his ancestors by one of the old kinffs. of France, whose life he bad saved in battle.) and nothing could eqtfal the-hub bub and confitsion „that Arm* when it was missing, His lordship called for .some Wine at dinner, and wasJ angry 'when the lackey handed it to him inli-glass,' He threw glass, and wine, and all, ati the ' . ,servant's head— flew into a terrible passion.. --and swore by all that was good and bad,that he would not take any thing stronger than -water until the, cup' Was on the table again ; and that. if it was not forthcoming in a week, he'd • turn off every servant he had, without paying , them or giving them a character. "The cup was searched for, but all to no purpose. At last the week came ea an end —all the servants had: their clothes packed up, to be off in the morning. His lordship was getting dreadfully tired of drinking cold water, and the whole house was, as one may say turned topsy-turvy, when to the delight and 'admit-a:ion of all, in came Con O'Keefe, from Ireland, with a letter from Mr. Barry and the cup in his fist • " I rather think they welcornef him. His loPdsbip made it a point , to get ' glorious' that night, and, as in duty bound, the entire household followed his example, with all the pleasure in life. You may be certain that Con played away finely at the wine—you I:t s ow the fairies bad made, him free of- the cellar-sn he knew the taste of the liquor, and relished it too. There can be no doubt that -there. was a regular jollifiCation at 'the chateau that bight. - _ .-" Con remained in France fora month,and perfectly. in ,clover, for, from the lord to the lackey, every one liked him. When he re turned he had a heavy purse of gold for him self, nod many fine • presents for his master. Indee.l, while the French 'lord livid, which was fifteen good years longer, a couple of hgsheads of excellent claret .were annually received at Barry's fort, as a present front him, and there was no•wine in the country to eqnal it. As for Con O'Keefe, be never_bad, the luck to meet the fairies again, a mirfor-' Mine he very sincerely lamented. "AndAlat's the _whole story." I asked Mr. McCann whether he . really be lieved _all of it I That worthy replied in these words:— "Why, in truth, I must say, some pads of it requ ire rather an elastic mind to take in • but 'here's no doubt that on was sent 'over to France, where, it is said there was. a 'Opal to do about - a golden cup. s j sin positive that Mr. Barry used to receive a present of claret eveiy year, from a Fiery lord; for I've drank some of the best claret in Ireland from Mr, Barry' s cellar. If the tale be. true—and 1 have told it as I heard Con: O'Keefe tell it, especially when overcome by liiluor , .at which time the . truth is sore to come out—it is proof positive, that there have been fairies in this neighborhood, and that within the memory of man!" Such a logical cohclusion wis incontro vertible, especially when enforced by a face tious wink from the schoolmaster; so I even left matters as they were, and ligened with all • proper attention _ to , other stories in the same rein, and to the same effect. If the narrator did not credit them; most of his au ditors did, which amounts to much the s.:me in the end. Some other time, perhaps, I May be tempted to relate them, LIONIE.-rh is only shallow minded pretenders- who make either distin guished t !iglu a matter of personal merit or obscure origin a matter of reproach. A man -who is not ashamed of himself need not be ashamed Pl his early condition. It. did hap pen to me to be born in a lon , _ cabin, raised among_ the , snow-.drifts of New Hampshire, at a perked so early that when the smoke first rase •tiorn its rude chimney and curled over the frozen hills, there was no similar evident* of a white man's habitation between it and the settletnentston the rivers of Canada. Its remains still exist ; I make it an annual visit. I carry my children to it, and - teach them the hardships endured by the generation before them. I love to dwell on the tender recol- faction, the kindred ties, the early affections and the dairation and incidents which min gle with all- I know of this primitive family abode. I weep to think that none of those who inhabited it are now among the living; and if I fail in affectionate veneratior, for nim who raised it, and defended it against 'sav ant violence and destruction, cherished all domestic comforts beneath its roof, and thro' the fire and blood of seven - years' war, shrunk from no toil', no sacrifice, to save his country, and to raise his children to a condition better' than his own, may my name and the name of my posterity he blotted from the memory of mankind. , -:Daniel Webster. Estrum - tn.—lt is told of General Zachary Taylor that when Major Bliss brought him Santa Anna's despatch. proposing that the American army should surrender without further ceremony, the General, who at thi% moment was busy writing a private letter on hts ca:np chest, replied, without so much as lookiug up, - " Tell him to go to naming a piece seldom mentioned except by hard swearers and clergymen. ".But,"re monstrated the gallant Major ," that 4 s .), not strike me as appropriate language flibse in a case of this sort—it's a format official des patch, and requires, I suppose, a written an swer." "_Tell him to go to —l" reiterated the General calmly ; put it In proper diplo matic ph rase end all that sort of thing ac cording to your own taste—but that is, my answer. o_no or our cotemperaries is insisting that there iWinagic in• the number tinvicw, , lt remarks, that the. years 1817, '27, '37, 1 47,, and '57, have been retuaikatie for their nancial vevulions,.the alternate decades 6- ing the most severe, until superstitious peo• ple have come to regard the seven u an tad lucky_number, and '77, it is supposed:aril round thrillisoory with a most convincing 11. lustrislion, tlattunell4, .-Zinin6it/0-,. The there was a tiros .thW world was art _ unbroken wiiderni , rocks, hills Wtal mountains, save opt small valley, which ~ was distinguished Is lustitiauca.. and where ;reigned,W pei ,1 enquirer. At that time; too, the only , being that inliald; ted the earth was in, whose knowledge was confined to t ley. And - who is re them bei.eil among...atawbas as :be meths , er or mankind. r; She lived in a covet!), and her food consisted of the honey of flowers and i the sweet herriea'and oiler fruits of. the. wilderness. Birds without number,. and - the wild Ahearn% which found wresting place • in the valley - Made : the' only . music which she ever heard.. Among thel,wild animals,iwhich were very numerous. about . ber.home; she wandered without . any] datigerl but . the' 'beaver and doe were henfaworite companions.. In personal- appearancei she was eminently beautiful,,and the lap's iiif years only bad the tendency 'to increase .:‘,. tlue- brightness. of her eyett arra the grace ofher movements. The _ dress she 'wore was made of those bright green leaves which inftdd the -water lilies, and 'her . hairr. was as long as the grass which . fringed the waters of I er native vale. She was the ruling spirikof her perennial world, for even the very flowerthat bloomed about her sylvan home-were n versknoin to wither or die.. In spite of her. lonely condition she. l ' knew.not what it was tt be lonely ; .but ever and anon a stridige . deire fonod its way to her heart, which impellher to explore the wild, country' which s ur rounded her-horne-,' F m or any days she rest ed the - tin:ration to ' i l become a wanderer f • .° her Charming web. `. ley,, until it, so happens , on a certain's:or:ear ing, 0114'a - scarlet butte fl y . • madwits appear-, , In ance before the door - • f her Cave,. and thi ' hum of...its wings inleil her away.- : ::She oheyed the summons n d followed th e but terfly far up the rocky ravine, Until she came to the foot of a huge waterfall when she wart deserted by ;her ruystetious . iilot, and first became acquainted stith 'the e notion of fear. Iler passage of the - rivin'a had been compare • tively easy; but when she endiiavored, inter consternation, to retrace her s eps, she found her t-tlorts unavailing, a rd. fell to the ground in despair. 'A deep sleet then overcame her be n ses. from which :sh was not awakened until the night was- fir pent, . ud the damp-.. 1 Reiss of- the dew ;had alien upOir: her soft Liiinibs and for the first time n her life she , did -fed the pangs of 'bodi y pain. leor-, - ,-, r-ldrn and desolate indee 4-was her condition; and she felt that some g eat event was about to happen,- when, es sh lirico e rect her face and turned it to the sk she beldJending - over-her prostrate form and c lothed in a - • cloud-like role, theirnag of a ing socutiv hat resembling herself, onl 'that he . was more ; stoutly msde and - of uch s erner SApecl. her first emotion at this stra gwdiscovery nt was that of terror; but AA the , ysterious; be ing looked upon her in :indness i and raised ~ her lovingly from the g ound,lslie Confided in his ptotection, and li tenet'this words until the beak of day. - , - ' • • lie told her thin he as a, ra' e.-o(•the far off-sky, and that he had dlc: ered her t i l in her forlorn ' condition bile traYie . tig front : the evening to the morn; g star. liktrouricg to her rescue liehail brok n a command of the Gieit Spirit or Master o Life, and as he was,. afraid to retain 'to - the sky, he ;desired to' ' ;Apetid Illedays in. her cietY;.upon . earth. With joy did she accep this prOposal,.and, , as • tbe sun rose . above th distatit:Mountains; . the twain returned in sa etc to; the luxutian t . vale, where *a o man and woman ,' many moon 4, 'Nei lived, -and I ved ' in perfect tran- .. . , quility a,nd joy. ; : ' 4 - In' proce s s of tithe t e woman became a .. mother, from which . time, the; hap" piness of; the twain became m ore ntene, t se, bu they at lhe same time endured ote troubles thew they bad evCrknown_be ore. The man was unhappy because he had, offended the; Master of Life, and the mother was anxious about '- the comfort outthappin s.of her newly born child. Many and devo t ;were the e - praywrs (Area Spirit they offered. to the fortis gull et, once and protection, for hey felt asst from them were to be desceneke. race of - beings i -. more' numerous than t e stars Of heaven. The Great Spirit,, had co .pa.sistort.- on the.!e . tat two inhabitants the rth, and,. in answer tO"their prayers, be caused , a mighty !nod to pass over the world.mak ng the -mOnntains crowd closely together , ' ad rendering the world more useful ind be utifull by the prai i ties and' valleys and rivewhieh now cover it from the rising t o tite ' sating o f . the sun. • to , ww..a . • . i • - How TO FALL . ABLFEKL Dr. [l3iun, in his " Anatomy of Sleep," am . disco rses : " The. great. potat to be gained in ,0,. er -to . secure - - sleep, is to escape from thOug t, especially from .that - cl:ngmg, tepaciou, iMperions .. thought which in (nog cises. o 'wakefulness • i l has yo , session of the Min.„ l always effect ,' • this from the "following. itiple pretress: I 4:1 turn Myeyebails as far t_ the ri ht r dr left, or upward or. downward, asi .can, .ithout pain, and then commence rolling th slowly, with • that dirergence from a direct line ;of vision, - • , around in their . Pockets, ;and continue Acting „- this until I fall asleep, ) which (=his generally - within three minutes and always within five at most. I The immediate effect-fads proce-•• dare .diTers,from th-st of any o her which 1 i r have euer heard to procure- s l eep. It. not • mereW:diVerts thought iiito a new channel but actually suspends itk \ Since I berme aware of this, I have .endeavored, inpumera-:.. tile times., while thus•rolling my eyes,' to think : upon a weepier subject, and even upon that.. - whi c h . before' ,kept • me awake but I could • , not. Asltnig_,ai they Were mo ,ing amino - my mind -, was a blank. illf an one.doubts - this, let him try the .experimen binisel. , 1 . wish he Would ; lot him peruse he O and make it, I venture tosure hiin.that dhewlakes it in good faith, in be maimer . d . .., tilted, the promise of a "penn for his the ghts," orfor, - il . each of them; while the cifieratt n Is ha- pr - • gress, will add very. little tai hi.;: earth ;' Stich : being . its effects,..we eP.'impt w oder 'chit it should bring Sleep t s , . o a . ne f re,US, 14 . W . altefig -. _ man at night.. 5.4 philorplif f the. stet • • I t is very sitio.,4B, A f suspetrion o : thought...is. to the . ittind what a ansmnsibti Of.tratet- 0r 1.... laborla to the weary.bqy. -.1 enjoys flier ~ luxury of rest ; the strain litlOnk facultlis re.. , - wired; it falls asleep as natural ai itifelar: . ' mer in•his cliniOtiler toiling all ditriti l ihts . '' ri==3 jrzr A codittry ntort:ll to soot' to the city and pu gnu! Mankind. EGEND. piopos,34 baorr9l
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