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