1 . eA..1(,. 6trripon, -PHs "The 'Cashier to bis Love. Ny dear Eliza—l am lost - Unless you send relitT; Yan have the power and I-will - o My application . I want from you's sort . of loan, • _ Not easily defined--, A loan of something you can spare ; Tu 1 e repaid in kind, . I- wish the matter laid before The Bank of Lore, my, dear, Of which you are the President, Director and Cashier. -Your Board, rfrost will give the case A fair consideration, . As lam sure.the hills wilt have aA noble circulatitrtr! In short, the 'subject 1- propose For discount, is myself, , And'think the name of Jones as good As Rothschild Or as Guelph: • I'll take yoar'" Yes" for thirty days, Endorsed by Parson-Waite, Or lake yourself at once, and pay Exchange at current rate: And thus you have my handand heart Presented.in due form— • . A hand froin peculation free, A heait with true love warm. A lease for life I offer you -Of all nay .land‘—in Spain— • And Turther, as collateral, - • - " Affection's golden chain. An inventory of my hopes •Would make a splendid alto*, (I. send a Rail Road specimen Afade up a year ago;) And t •as the future looks so fair, I need a fascia). friend; share Thejoin me on the way, and share The brilliant dividend. Ortr very-prosperons,'loYe, . An Imy position Imre Emildes me'by broker:,ge, A wetly sum itv clear. - it rt with my stipend, and my chance At skinning WeSteru loans, I'm getting on so tam)u,ly• I want a Mrs. Jones. Fm told you Kaye a private' fund, Bequeathed byj.Unele Frank, - (Some twenty thousand, is it not')` That's idle in th'e tank ; Just send a ehtAne ler this amount, Drawn in. the usual way, And Fil allow you inlerest, lore, • Until our wedding:day! oak. -_`llave you seen the new scholar? asked -- Mary Lark, azirl . or nt-iiffeor fourteen yeari a. , she ran to meet a group of schorltlinate.; who were corning to'wards the school-house; •zke elks the most comicat figure you ever saw. Her cloak is made opt of calico, and her shoes aio brogans, such as men and toys 4)lr.re - s,l've seen lier,'-replied Luc; Brooks; '-he is the new'n'asber-wornan's." - daughter. I lime theu:Tlit . Mr. Brow)] would have taken' her into the academy; but I sur pose he- likes' the money that comes through suds as welh as any.. It is cleaner of' course.' ' And the air; rang with -the loud laugh of the girls. 'Come let us go in -and examine her,' con tinued Marc, •as they ascended the step;-of the school-house; 'I am thinking she will make some fun for us.' The frirls went into IVO - dressing room, where they found the newiicholer. She was a mild, intellirrent , lookiog child, but very poorly though :tidily clad. The girls went around her,—,Whisperittg and liughing with each other, -while she stood trembling and hlushintr in, one corner of ,the rootn,,witb ,,ut even venturing to raise 14ef eyes from the When they entered school, they found that the little girl was far in advance of those of her age to her Studies, and was placed in clsea with-those two or three year's her sen ior. This seemed, en the whole, to - make those 'girls wbo were disposed "to treat her unkindly dislike her more; and she, being of a retiring disposition, through their influence had no friends, but went " - and returned• from school alone. 'And do you really, : think,'said Mary Lark, as she went up to the little girl a few weeks after she entered • the school, 'that you are go ing to get the medal I It. will correspond nicely with your cloak 1' • And she caught hold of the cal and held it out from her, while' the girls around joined a loud laug; 'Calico dress take the Medal'. I gtiess_she will ; I should like to see Mr. Brown giving it, to her said another girl as she caught hold o of her arm, and peeped . uuder the child's bonnet. The little girl struggled to release herself, and when she - was free, ran home as fast as she could go. • 'Oh, mother,' she said, as she entered her . mother's humble kitchen : 'do answer Uncle William's letter sod• tell him we will come to Ne sr York to live? 1, don't like to hie in Bridgeville: The girls call me 'calico 'cloak,' and 'brogans,' and you don't know, mother, how unkindly they treat me.' 'Lizzie, my clear's/Lid her rnother,`you_must expect to meet those who will treat...you unkindly on account of you l / 2 . poverty; but you must • not he discouraged.: Dd right, my child, and . yOu will eventually come olf con queror. . ..* - • , • -Although !drs. Lee tried to encourage her cbilL4 yet she knew-that ahe had to meet with severe trials.for ofie so young.- tßut, mother, they are all unkind to, me,' replied Lizzie, itheee.,is not one who loves - me! - And the child buried her face in her hands and sobbed aloud. '--- In -Bridgeville deaderny there were a few' selfish, .uoprineipled girls ; and the others joioedthent in terizing the littleCalieo Cloak,' :is thee called her ; from thoughtlessness, and : frorn-bive of sport. But they. knew not.how - deeply each' sportive word pieieed the heart of the little stranger, and hOw many bitter tears - she 'shed in secret over their' onkirid- Ws. Lee, leareitik:ilat the scholars Fiji!' c, onti ntied their unjust tieatment towns fib her resolved to accept her brother's invita. te. . tion,altlro lie was a poor man,and become a -r of his - family, Loping that while eie her child could continue her studleS, and perhaps, through . his influence, lead a happier life among her sanol-mates. Accordingly, at the end of the term,she left Bridgeville, and removed to New York. Al though 'Lizzie had been a member cif tithe school but one terra, yet she gained the in - dal, and it was worn -from the Academy b neath the despised garment. Weeks, months and years glided away t the students of the Bridgeville Academy, and the little 'Calico Cloak` wasforgot ten. Thoil who were at, shcool with her, had left to enter upon the business of life. ' Twelve years after, Mrs. Lee and her daughter left town, a Mr. Maynard, a youn clergyman, came into Bridgeville, and we settled as pastor of the village church. f i t was reportedat the sewing circle, the wre' . following his ordination, that it was expectefl he would bring hit bride into town in a feW weeks.- There was a great' curiosity to self her, and especially, after it was reported that she was a talented young authoress.- A few weeks after, Mr. Maynard gratifl4 their curiosity by walking into church with his yoting-wife leaning on his arm. She was, a lady of great intellectual beauty, and ever body (as they always are at first,) wan deeply interested in the young minister am, his wife. The following week the ladies flocked t. see her, and r t he promised to meet them at th next gathering of the sewing circle. The day arrived, and although it was quit storiny,Mrs. Deacon Brown' parlor was fillc( with smiling faces. The deacon's carting was sent to the parsonage after Mrs. Maynard and indue time arrived, bringing the lad With it. The shaking of hands that followe her arrival can only be imagined by those who have been" - present on such an occa. sion. •Ilow, are you p!eased` with our vil l age aske 1 a Mrs. Britton, after the opening exert eises were over, as she took a seat be ide Mrs' Mavnard. like its appearimce very much,it certain ly has improved wonderfully within the las twelve ream' 'Were you ever in Bridgeville before r ask e 1 another lady, as those around looked tome What su.prised. was here a few months, when a (Alibi, re plied Mrs. Maynard. Their curiosity WA.3 excited. `Have you friends here?' asked a third,afte a moment's silence. '1 -have dot.- 1 resided with my mother,tb: whlow Lee. We lived in -a little cottage which stood upon the spot now occupied by a large store, on the corner of street. `The widow Lee!' repeated• Mrs. Britton; • well remember the cottage, but I do not re' collect the matne: 1 T -think 1 attended school with you at the academy,' replied Mrs. Maynard; 'you were Miss Mars Larl, ao.o you not 1' 'That was my. name,' replied ilia a smile passed over her features at being re l cognized, •Ittw I am really ashamed that tnli memory has proved so recreant. was known in 14 Academy as the little; `Calico Cloak:- Perhaps you can remember! Me by that name The smile faded from Mrs.l3ritton's facet and a deep blush. overspread her features! which, in a few titoinents after,was'seen deep ening upon the face of the others piesent. There was a silence for some minutes,when Mrs. Maynard looked up, she found she had caused considerable disturbance among t 4 ladies- of her own age, by making herself known. 'Oh ! I remember very well when the little] 'Calico Cloak' went to the academy,' said are old lady, as she looked up over her glas.es fi nil I think if my memory serves me right some of the 3 oung ladies present will owes .Mrs. Maynard an apology. - - '1 have no intention, whatever, ladies,' re plied Mrs. Maynard, 'to reprove any one pre -1 'sent by snaking myself known ; but as it may! seems to some that such was my intention, 11 will add a few words : Most of the youngeil ladies present will remember the little 'Canc., Cloak;' but no one but the wearer knows how deeply each unkind word pierced the little 'heart that beat beneath IL And, as I . again bear the old .academy bell ring,it brings bac flesh to . spy mind the sorrows of childhood , But.let no lady mistake me, by supposing c'herishi an unkindly feeling towards any one I know' that, wherever the past may hay been you - are now my friends. But, ladies, let - me add if you have children, learn a les son from my experience, and teach them t treat kindly the poor and despised. A calieO cloak may cover a heart as warm with affec-I t ion, and as sensitive to sorrow,as one that beats' beneath a velvet covering. Whenever you nieet a child who shows a disposition to des pise the-poor, tell it the story cf the littl -Calico Cloak;' ii, will carry its own morn with it.' , , 'That is th'e shortest and bt.stserinon I eve beard,' said the old lady again,as she put he handkerchief ander her glasses; 'and I do uo believe that its moray effect will be lost upo any of us. ' The old lady was tight. The story wen. from one trkanother,uh t til it found its way in to the old academy. Iftt that very time little boy was attending school there, whos: Mother was struggling with her needle t. give him an education. The boys often math sport of his patched knees and elbows, an be would run sobbing home to his mother But, when the story of - the 'Calico Cloak reached the scholars, the little boy becans: very popular in school; and the children fro.•l that time were ttery•kind to 'Little Patcbey, as he had always been called. - When Mrs. Maynard heard the story o , ( Little PaYchey,' she felt that she 'was wel repaid for all she had suffered in her child hood. "TEw iltrm."- , —The following is froth th • letter of an American noir travelling in Italy r —At sunset we reached Gaeta. This place abotinds in :historical interest, and it is here that the Pope found refuge when he fled from the Republic in 1.849. Among the legend of the place is one to the effect that he an the King of Naples, who bad come to visi him - in his ezile went onboard of an Amerii. can frigate, The commander iiielcomed them in these tends: `Pope,,bovi are sou t - King, how d'ye do f R e eve, Lieutenant hue -you speak French; parley'vou:s with tb Pope, while the-King come I go down au have a drink . King, come on! "WE ARE ALL EQUAL BEFORE GOD AND THE CONg'FirtITION."--Jzoigs Buchanan. Point CHEWED lIP BY A WHALE. -. :0: _. BY N. P. WILLIS. I=ll=l My most intimate acquaintance at Scanset was a Nantucket "skipper" who had once been chewed up by a whale—his surviving to tell the story, of course, being simply be• cause the dainty leviathan, not liking the taste of him, had dropped the unwilling mouthful out again npon the clean table cloth of the ocean. This was forty years ago, and it is a rare instance, yon will allow, of a motilel proring pleasant company so long after being rejected by a reluctant stomach at sea. should ask pardon, however, for speaking thus familiarly of one of the best specimens of manhood that 'I" have ever had the happi ness to meet—a sea captain now in his see.- enty-third year, -as tall, stittight, vigorous and cheerful, at this advanced age, as when a mate of. twenty-five—one of the most res pectable citizens of New _Bedford, at present, and enjoying a comfortable independence, from the capture of the whale that wouldn't eat him, and of other whales who similarly left him unswallowed. But I must give you the particulars of the half mastication of Capt. Gardner, who, by the way, in addition to his singular experience as a moutlifel, has the 'peculiarity of being the son of the first white male child born on Nantucket. "Newly arrived at the honors.of captaincy, our Nantucket skipper was cruising along the coast of south America justoff Peru— when there was a.cry from the mast head, "a whale ho 1" The direction was. given, the sails trimmed for the overtaking of the monster, and When, within - 11 mile,, the boats were lowered, each with its crew of six. Quietly afloat lay the amphibious Shylock of the sea, and as the swift hat came within harpooning distance, the _inevitable iron, hurled by the strong arm, penetrated his vi tals. Not as usual, however, did the struck monster go out of sight; turning and taking straight for his enemies, he rolled over his huge bulk to get a fairer grip, and brought his jaws together upon the boat's prow— the forward half of that slight structure, cap tain and all disappearing like the best part of an apple tart in the munch of a hungry school boy. The remaindei of the crew had jumped ortrborud, and as the whale, with another roll, dived- down Is die out of sight, be threw up the unsWallowed cap tain—the relief boitt pulling instantly to -the spot, and taking the crushed morsel and the five swimmers safely from- the water. It was the chewed up tight hand of the captain. as he sat by me at the table, which had at first excited my curicsity—stimulating the inquiries which :drew front hint, at last this thrilling story—the stump, or wl a' is 'visible below the coat sleeve, looking like a twisted, rope's end, but still retaining clutch enough to carry the chowder spoon to his mouth. Four of the whale's teeth were driv en into him, one entering his skull, a second breaking his collar hone. mi arm, and the fiurth crushing his-hand— the remainder -of his body • being limply squeezed into a jelly. The healing of the wound in the bead left a cavity like the side of an egg shell ; and though the hair has still grown over it, it after forty years the size of The tooth that did it.— I laid the ends of my three fingers very com fortably-in the hollow. Capt. Wrdner, providentially, though so nearly eaten up, retained lull of his senses. His first mate was,yoatig, but a very smart lad,-and possessed fortunately of Yens kee aptitude--good at everything; and with the aid of the sufferer's directions he did the work of a surgeon. The captain ordered him first to make splints and then to set his broken arm—the collar - bone being left to heal itself, unset as it remains this day, with out perceptibly affecting his erect shape, or the action of his chest, and the other wounds being bandaged in the usual way. He was then laid on the cabin floor, and with a bed 'made of some of the lw.v,s of an old log-book, he was ktipt as cool as was any way possible —for it was the hottest of South Sea. Feel ing, however, that his life depended on the exercise of his strong will, he gave • orders that he should_ by no possibility be allowed to seep over five minutes at si time. And with this vigilant watch kept up for five days, the ship navigatftl, by his directions, as he lay on the cabin floor, entered the port of Peru. A boat sent immediately cat shore, brought on troald the Emperor's physician, who, on looking at the prostrate man and examining hiri wounds, advised only that they should send for a confessor. Othey prescriptions the medical man thought would be useless, as death was ',evidently close at hand. But the captain was of a different - opinion. " A physician for the soul is very well at the proper time and place," said he, "but at present I want one-for the body—and I hap pen to know of one who will-cute me!" It so happened that in a previous touch at the same port, Capt. Gardner had heard of the sick mate of an-American vessel who had been left - behind by his shipmates, and to whom as a charity to a suffering countryman, he then °tiered 'a passage home. The man's Message of- reply was that he fortunately stood in no need of kindness, as lie was under the care of a Spanish doctor who lived at Von, a village back in the mountains, and who had taken him to his house and treated him like Lis own child. And for this kind old doctor Capt. Gardner now sent with all convenient haste—dispensing at once with 4ny further attendance by the physician of the Emperor. Early on the second morning' arrived the "good Samaritan," and theses comfort in his first took and encouragement in his first words. lie could cure the crushed man if he had him at his house in the-mountains. But how to get him there? There.-was no road —only a mule path along the edges of preei pices, climbin g wild cliffs, and scrambling through tangled ravines—forty miles of foot path penetianng the depths of wilderness. But the'Captain's Yankee ingenuity sec onded the good will of the doctor. lie con- Gloated a new vehicle as be biy—in the.oth- Or physician's opinion—dying on, the door.-- A couple of -king, light spars were brought by his orders,ited a hammock was rigged to awing suspended from the centre. His friend had two mules, and with the spars fastened to their aides, they were to walk like the bearers of 'a, palanquin, one., before and the other &Mild ; tantlenr hammock, in which he could-ride, he was sure, quite, as comfortable as men could carry him. And of the two day's journey thiii - made over the meentains, Capt. Gardner's descrip tion was one of. glowing remembrance. By the elasticity of the spats vidiiett supported him; he was borne without jolting, and part of the time he slept most refreshingly. But the path Was a giddy one to a sailor's eye along the edge of cliffs, where a simile falae step would have dashed him and his males " into a grease spot,' and-now and then turn ing where his 'two spars formed. a bridge from mule to -mule ' .ofer chasm—hundreds 'of feet of jagged rocks, nearly perpendicular, stretching away below, as he looked occasion ally over the side of his mattress. They arrived safely at the mountain .home of the old Spaniard, however, and here all - was coot - tint and. kind care. They-only dif fared on one point. The doctor thought the broken collar-bone should lie set ; but the captain resisted. He had felt the bi'oken ends knit where they were, he said, and Na ture's mending would do for him, and he was right, for, after forty Nears, be opened his shirt bosom and showed me•the ridgy projec. lion of the broken bone, strong and healthy, and doing as good service as a whole one that very day at,Scrinset. It took two weeks of kind nursing to pia him on his legs again, and then with a grate ful farewell to the kind oid doctor of Pura, Captain Gardner 'returned to his ship, taking command, and once more pursuing. the object of li:s voyage. And soon harpooning the requisite number of whales, lie Lcturned pros perously home. • For an instrurce of indomitable energy this can hardly be outdone, I should think ; and to see the eiect,loble-looking and , hearty oid man of seventy-three, as I saw him an hour :or two ago, walking home to his dinner, with a light step and good appetite at New-Bed ford, forty years after being eaten up by' a whale in • the. South Sea-, is to get-a fine idea of the stuff of a Nantucket whale man I Voyage around a Pudding. Dr. Bushwhacker folded his napkin, drew it through the silver ring, laid it on the ta ble, folded his arms, and leaned back in his chair, by which we knew there was somethig at work in his knowledge box. "My dear madam," said-he, with an aboriginal shake of the head, there are a great many things to be said about that pudding." Now, such a remark at a •serFon of the year m hen eggs, are five for a shilling, and not always fresh at that, is enough to discom fort anybody. The doctor perceived it at once, and instantly added, "in a geographical point of view, there am ro>oy things tO be said about that pudding. My .flear madam," lie continued, " take tapioca itself; what is it, • and %%here does it come from ?" Our eldest boy just emerging from chick-, en hood, answered, " 85 Chambers street, tio doors below the Irving llouse. "True, my dear Young friend," responded the doctor, with a friendly fat on the head ; " true, but that is not what•l mean. Where." h . mi „.,, c „ d „ Tonnt;nts;ner lArlk through his spectacles, and a bushwhackian nod, " does tapioca come from I" de Janeiro and Para ?" " Yeq, sir ; from Rio de Janeiro in the southern anal Parain the northern part of the lirazils, do we get bur tapioca; from the roots of a plant called the Mandioca, botan ically the Jafropha Muniliot, or, as - they say, Cassava. The roots are long and round, like a - sweet potato; generally a foot or more in length. Every joint of the plant will pro duce its roots like the cuttings of a grape vine. The tubers are.dug up from the ground, peeled, scraped, or grated, then put in long sacks of flexible rated—sacks,s'x feet long. or mom; and at the bottom of the sack they suspend a large.stone, by which the flexible sides are contracted, awl then out pours the' cassava juice in a pan placed below to - receive it. This juice is poisonous, sir, highly poi• sonous, and very volatile. Then, my dear madam, it is macerated in water, and the residumni, after the I.lritile part, the poison, is evaporated, is the innocuous farina, which lOoks like small crumbs of bread, and whiCh we call tapioca. The • best kind of tapioca comes from Rio, which ie, I believe, abotit five thousand five hundred miles from New York; so we mist put down that as a little more than one-fifth of our voyage around the . puddirig." - This made our eldest open his eyes. - , • "Eggs and milk," continued Dr. Bush whacker, "are home productions ; but sugar, relined sugar, is made partly of the moist and sweet yellow sugar of .Louisiana, partly of the hard and dry sugar of thirs West-Indies. I will not go intoth - e`process of refining su gar now, but I may observe here, that the aim gar we get from Louisiana, if refined arid made into a loaf, would be quite soft, with large loose chrystals; while Havana sutras, Rubjectedio the same treatment, would make a white cone almost as compact and hard as granite. lint we have mad 6 a trip to the Antilles for our sugar, and so you may add Meet) hundred miles moreLfor the saccharnzu. "That is , equal to nearly one-third Qf the circumference of tire pudding we lire upcin, doctor." . .. . " Vanilla," continued the doctor, " with which this pudding cs so delightfully llsvored, is the bean of a vine that grows wild in the multitudinous forests of Venezuela, - New 1 Granada, Guiana ' and in fact, throughoht South America. The long pod, which looks like the scabbard of a sWord, suggested the name to . the Spaniards;- myna meaning scabbard, from which conies the diminutive, vanilla, or little scabbard - -appropriate en ough, as-every one wilt allow. These beans, which are worth here (rota Six to twenty dol lars a pound, could be as easily cultivated as hops in that climate ; but the indolenCe of the people is so great, that not one Vene zuelian has been found with sufficient enter prise to set out one acre of •vanilla, wide!' would yield On a small fortune every year. No, sir. The poor peons, or peasants, raise their garabanzu for daily use, but beyond that they never look. 7They plant their crops in the footsteps of their ancestors, and, if !it had Lot been for their ancestors, they would' have probably browsed: Oti the wild - grass of the Banos or plains. Alt t there are a great many such bobs haughig.at the tail of- some ancestral kite, even in this great city, My dear learned friend." "True, doctor, you are right; there," tcs t " Well, sir, the . anilla is gathered from t e wild vines in-the woods. Off i ttlet the bid 1- go, pima of his noble !mostly, and. *ls borne under a bick-l'ond of the re6rge be ns front' the tries, after the red monkey has It d hi.J. pick -of the Lest. A few reals pay On --- . fur the day's work, and then, bey,for the coat- pit ! There, Signor Olfogie- meets the Marquis de Shinplaster, or the Padre Corcor ochi, and of course gets - whistled out of. his earnings With the first- click of the gaffs.— Then back he goes to his miserable hammock, and so ends his year's labor. That, air, is the history of the flavoring, and you will have to allow a stretch across the Carribbean, say, twenty-five hundred miles,for the vanilla." " We are getting pretty well round, don tor." Then- we have Ranee here, wine-sauce— Tenetiffe, 1 should.say, by the flavor. from beneath the cliff Of sunny-sided Teneriffe And ripened in the blink Of India's sun." We must take four thousand miles at least for the wine, my learned friend, and say nothing of the rest of the settee.' 'Except the nutmeg, doctor.' 'Thank you my dear young friend ; thank you. The nutmeg I To the Spice Islands in the Indian Ocean we are indebted for our nutmegs. ' Our old original, Knickerbockers, the web-footed Dufolimen,have the monopoly of this trade. Every nutmeg has paid toll at the Hague before it yields its aroma to our graters.- The Spice Islands ! The almost fabulous Moluccas, where neither corn nor rice will grow ; where , the only quadrupeds they have are the odorous goats that breathe the fragrant air, and the Anusky crocodiles that bathe in the higb-seasoned waters. The Moluccas, "—the isles Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants bring Their spicy drugs." There, sir ! Milton, sir. From Ternate and Tidore, and tie rest of that marvellous cluster of islands, we get our nutmegs,. our Mace, and our cloves. Add twelve- thousand miles at least to the circumference of the pudding for the nutmeg.!' "This is getting to be a .pretty large ptul dimr, doctor." "Yes, sir. We have already traveled twenty-five thousand five hundred miles a round it, and wow let us re-circumnavigate, an t i come back by the way of Mexico, so that we can get a silver spoon, and penetrate into the interior." Foolish Virgins. In olden -times there were "five foolish virgins." We are afraid that. there ate fully aunany as that at the present day. Some of them were horn fogliell by the example of their weak-minded mothers; and some of them have made themselves foolish. See that dashing belle, flounced from her heels to her arm pits, and bedizened with jewelry„, pearls, gents and precious stones. Her mother thinks her an angel ; and she. thinkilleisellan archangel; but she is a 'fool ish virgin'—that is all she is. He vrlio made her endowed her with an immortal soul, anti pointing her to an eternal hereafter, sa id to ednrning be outward, the adorning of plaiting the hair, of wearing gold, or of puttiq ; on apparel, let it be the hidden man of the beam, even the ornament - of a meek and quiet spir....whick is in the tight of God a great price.' Ihri. all the adorning that this foolish virgin has is She has no solid education, no mental cultu.„ and nO noble and generous heart. She is not rpralified for any u-efuliress in the world, ti4e fulness except as a frame on which to exhibit dry goo& and the dressmaker's skill. And when she shall appear before her Maker,strip ped of her 'outward adorning,' and without that precious 'ornament of the heart,' what a miserable figure that foolish wirgin will cut. It is awful, to. think of the future of these mere butterflies.of fashion. What is she good forl She could not make. a -loaf of bread, nor roast a turkey, nor bake a pudding. Ste could not knit a tidy, though she often knits her brow. She could not darn a stonking, though she could darn everything else. The most simple article of dress that adorns her body she could net make. 'She . toils not, neither does she spin, yet Solomo n, in alihis glory, is not arrayed like her.' she has eery little mind. Her head is hollow. She can only talk of theatres,balls, fashion and beaux. Her moral nature is wholly uncultivated. She spends more time in examining fashion plata,tlian in examining her poor-little heart; more, time in reading lot& stories than in reading the blessed Bible. What on earth is she good for I She is a bill of useless ex pense to her father, and It barren fig tree in the moral vineyard. The world would be better off if this foolish tirgin no longer cumbered the ground.—And one of these days the scythe of Time will cut her down, and the miserable' flirt trill go to her last ac 'count. Girls, young women, consider your ways. Have a high and worthy rrpose,— Ma - ke yourself a-blessing to this world. Ab hor to be Flora 11F . Flimsy, as.you would rib ber to be any other fool. He useful,be modest, be good, be 'Wise virgins:tend when the great bridegroom shall come, you shall go with him to the marriage: Tlow Bonus Cot:" TS 111xue.—The art of making bogus coin has .nearly reached per 'fection, and some of the spe, eimens of Ameri can halves and quarters exhibited ciliate are siogond an imitation of the genuine, that it requireit More than a casual glance to detect 'the fraud. Of all the begun Money - we have seen in the hands of the Police, taken from the counterfeiters, the product of the Lock port mint is' the !Jest, although 11111 &' Co. did well in their., imitations. The, Buffalo Republic tells how this coin is made. The material from clinch it is manufactured, and which forms so perfect an imitation of the; genuine, as to require airractised "eye to de tect the difference, is composed of pure grain tin and nickel—the tat ingredient serving to hartin and give the ringing 'Sound. The maids, a specimen- of which wa i t found in Bishop's garden at Lockport, areslisped like bullet meads, with two parts thitt'open I .and shot together like shears.' :At one ex tremety a mould is ma - de,codipifised of plaster of Paris in n plastic state,of sufficient breadth to admit the insertion of several genuine coin', which are 'diced between the two sides and shut together. t After the plaster 'of 'Paris has sufficiently hardened the rnouhl is 'opened, Peeving both lidos of the coin distinctly im pressed on the two.arnis of the mould. , The melted composition itv then- run in tiirough . on oriffce, and after cooling, is takeifout and galvanized. 'The cost of gre:_in tin i ents'of the ingredients', is fifty cents per pound, making the cost of bogus coin 'about fifteen evils on the dollar., A young girl who happens to be• the daughte,r of a real; genuine - farmer, should. cOnifdei herself particularly fortunate. Her position is one which contains all the elements which go to make -up n lofty Character : it is culculitted to . bring out all the energies,, to develop all the mitural gifts, and in time,with proper gutdes,tb Make her one of the'greatest women in tlA,.worltl. If there be in life a sheet* iibove all others, where the daugh ters may grow up healthful{ beautiful, useful, graceful, intelligent, and ptire, die situation I [Attie to be; as one of the household band, is the home of the honest and independent farmer or planter. ,I would, say to young girls whom lines have fallen in - such 'pleasant places,' do not overvalue pier peculiar ad , vantages. You are the'highly favored among women. The circutnstanCes in ,Which you are placed are such as are best calculated - to develop your powers in a threefold forte . ; physically, mentally; , and Mortally. J would hate you value your rdvantagea, improve every one of them to- the fitmost, and place a proper estimate ttproi ydurselves. You have every opportunity tO tilaKe yourself noble, beautiful, intellectual, and useful women ; do this then, and, each in her owq, pefson 'assert the dignity of labor." Consult your parents, and form yourself a purpose in life. They place before your brother some aim, some standard, some goal which his exertions are to reach. Why . .not, then give you 'something to live for' also Why should you be the only cypher in the family , f When you have 'finished' schoel;_ don't for one moment be lieve"that you are 'educreel.' Don't 'dress ttpl in your finances tt retera, and sit down on the parlor sofa, waiting_for that yonng at 'Ketchum & Cheatem's! to 'call round.' ; let him show off his laces, embroideries, &e,, Acc.; - and near thetil too, fOr all you care about it. Iteipember that, 'let others do as they will, as for sou,' you have something else to do.thati sit down; fold yofir white hands, and wait to be married. 'You have an influence in society to 'wield—duty as a daughter and perhaps as a sister to perform; and then von must not forget yourself—for you have a mind to be cultivated, health to be regarded, a heart to be educated, and an immortal soul to be saved. 'ls this not a great deal . of work I Yes; trust me, if you only set about it, 'with a you will find every moment employed, and etery day lob' short for the accomplishment of all yolir duties. You know how much you can assist *lonia in all her varied departments of domestia soon only—the dairy . , the - poultry-yard, the store room, the sewing basket, the garden, the shrubbery;tind twenty other things over which her, watchful eye presides ; but while you are doing all you can for. her,please don't neglect papa. Now I see you smile - incredulously, saving to your nice self, 'Why, what in the world canrdo for papa I' Oh, a great dell, ifyou only assume the responsibility.. Be sides preparing him sotne refreshing delicacy When - he comes in, as he expresses it, 'hungry as a hawk,'or singing him a sweet song when his mlnd is Oertisked, you can talk with him and learn him .abolit his fields, his stock, or his building s ; you - :an read him his agri cultural books, (for there is a,great deal of 'head - works in-farming), and thus improve vour own mind while adding also to his Suppose, then, that some day pti , on infriortont business, though it is in the he.. • -f harvesting; he quietly takes his seat in tile 'goesand on his way rejoicing. 'Ah Squire*, glad to see you ; hut how the world did you get up to town g This is yooi hissiness season, is it not • E:=Emni - The old Man smiles; a deep iig,K -flashes in his shltw-gray-eye'-=-(is it pride or love ?) he quietly replies : ')`es, sir, it is ; but my NI.UV attend to all that." Oh !• wouldn't you gory u that 1 I would I can see no necessity in the world, for your troubling yourself about marriage, but if Marra Thornton,' that intelligent, handsome and succesful yoOng planter, will keep on coming to consult your -papa about this or that—always contriving by the Ailly, - to ter minate his consultation With a walk, or ride, or a' fete a-lite with papa's `Mary,'why tben you-needn't be surprised, on slime fine eve ning; to hear-yourself respectfully to become Mrs. Thornton. Then I wish you to'retnember that marriage is only a question of will with' you—not a necessity. Your good parents are not at all anaiona to get rid of,nucli a sweet, sensible, brave, sad beaUtiful child ;.and yotcif you don u t think you have 'a call' to become a tfife, have been Wa well. educated to fear the nettle of 'old maid.' But if you love "tarty, and your will I ik won,- (which for his sake, poor fellow, trust, is the case), than; like an frone.st,, dear little girl, as you are—having far too much love for your lover, and too much respect for yourself to `flirt, r say les' immediately—and heaven bless you both " 011TLINE PQR.TR47B.—AbOtit, t flir ty years ago, says the Louisville Journal, when Sir Edward Lytton Bulwer was a bridegkoom and the present Lady Bulwer his bride, that exquisite poetess "L. E.L." (Lettie E. Landon) wrote and published an account of their characters and personal appearance. They „were both quite young, mrd each of -them in - delicate health. The blidegroom,l .was described as pale and fascinatlng. tine the bride - was painted as. a fragile and fairy like creature, of surpassing loveliness. The to der tints of-her cheek were said to be "Ake kuie leaves crushed .on iVory . ." The dt.tterip- Lion was,read everywhere, and the public,ad ruiration and the public sympathy were deep ly excited for the charming young pair, who, it was thought, must soon pass away from a _worrd too cation and rude for such gentle and lovely, natures ~ ,as theirs. • Ah, little ! •dreamed the reader then, that,.aftei a very few Yea.ra, the gentle bridegroom' would strike the tender bride, that site would seek: redress by publishing a series of coarse,: fierce, and vituperative novels and pamphlets - against hirer, and dna; after a few more years, she, grown to be a sturdy, red-faced, and-mtiSbu lar.woman, would pttrsee him in his canvass for, Par:iament, Jake Fie stand upon. tl% hustin_gs in reply to' his public speeches, call Oren Ehm to: confront her, shout. ',coward" at him in his precipektale ftightfrom her prer ence,,ind. announce- her e .determiostioo to persecute him' . till , fre, should cry To mercy, and . humbly lnake her amen& for -011 bit villainies. . 'True manhood bows but to superior moral and intellettual worth. _ Farmers' Daughters. Now. Engla, i d Coth littaking; We take the following pleasant eitteeta from a pretty, live y tale, entitled "The Red Ear,'? by T.-S. Aut rut.: - . , , • "Kate Mayflower,a wild romp of a girl, from Boston—at last some in the city re garded her-as such—was spending a Jai weeks, in, r?--., I whiCie invitations came to Knee a husking Party.at'Ephriam Bradley's. The o ld than lived some three miles from the village. Kate had beard about husking psi ties. - Her'verung spirits leaped up'wben the announcement - wart made that one was to be held in the ueighbOrhood, and that sbe was • inviteo to Lie prdisent. It *as a fino.frolic that,frenV all she Lad heard, would just suit her temperament, and she set 'off, when the time came, to make up a party, in the mer riest POssible mood• Evening lied clo'S ' ed iii on the arrival of the party from 10•--=---;i who quickly joined some_ - ' re: score or two of young people in a large kitch en, where lay Leaped up in the centre a huge `pile of Indian _norm . ' All that to be "Ihusked I' whtspered 2 Kate as she entered tlittifootif. , ' dh, yes; all that and more perhaps; was • the smilihg reply...', 'We have come to work, , you know. 'Now, , gala,' .said old Mr. Bradley; who stood looking on'aS the young folks gathered i with bright faces around the golden graid, • 'now for a good of -fashioned time. If there is not i a Intlf a dol n weddings before Christ - , mas ' I shall say there is no virtue in red eats.' As he ceased ;down dropped, amid gay voices and laug he r, the whole company upon the floor, inl graceful et`id, ungraceful positions; rn a circle around the Flirt of corn. --' Here's moth* frii:yoit, it ate,'-cried one of the girls who had come with-her, making a place by her side, and down sank Kate, feeling for the first time- a little awkward and confused. ' Beside her was a Stout country youth, whose eves were dancing with anticipated pleasure. The city girl eyed his rough brown bands, coorse garments and unpolished face, with a slight feeling-of repulsion, and drew a little j from him towards her friend.- • . 'Oh; pigmy, of food,' said he, turning broadly around;" and addressieg her with, a familiar leer, 'the l itighter we get in the bet ter. "Lay the In rids close if you went a good fire. All free and easy here' . Ile had grasped an ear of corn, and was alteady stripping down the husk: 'Ai, red ear, by jingo!' suddenly burst from his lips, in a tone of triumph ; and, as lie spoke, he sprang towar d , or rather upon Kate, with -. the grace of a piling; hear, and kissed her ' witiva 'smack' that might &tie been.heard a dozen rooms off.l . Ere she bad time to re cover frpin the su rprise, and it must be ad - mined indignationi occasioned by this Inlek• .- pected assault upon her lips, the here' of the first 'red ear' was' half around . the Circle of • struggling girls, lasing right a nd left with a skill and heartiness' that awoke-sheets of ap plinse from' the Yo,dig ' fellers' who envied his good fortune. 1 • That was a new phase in the life of Kate... She Lad heard of ••issing as an amusement among the your. folks, and hid, often' thought that the ortom was lob good' to be come obsolete r b . t r „rtpractical view and . a personal Ia:4LT/zip:dam like . this; ' wiess thing her imagination bad, in none of its vagaries, . conceived. An old fashioned, straight-backed,'.. flag-bottomed chair' stood near, and unwilling • to tilfst herserf again upon the floor, Kate drew that into the Circle, arid seated herself close to, the pile f . Corn jujustas\ the young ..sl on ai , l.cottitr th letect .) fir' task of kissing every ' nisi rare ° , .7. . said he, smacking Lis lips, as be threw hi use,. - , 1 lucky r - • • her feet.- _ 'Masa t • Kate's iedignat a . hall by Ala time, ~ rio melted away unde a lively sense of thetudic. roes, and she con d' not help laughing with the ro - ettiest. , Sooanothei red - ear was an- - commenced and the ' the kissing Such stru gling, wrestling, scream ing ings anti la,ughing ate never had heard nor seen. TN youngman who held ihe . prize had all the nerve i• quired to go th rough - with' I * 1 his part, as Kate clearly proved when it CAM , to her turn to receipe a setae. The stniggle was long atd well sustained' oti tbe' pint of the maiden; but Nr fate was to be kissed ' " and kissed ley a rug,h, youtt countrynsan whom she knew ot-before. The deed was don; and then tl4 blnshing, panting girl • was fed back' in triumph' to the room from which die, had eicaperT. - . Red ears were in platy that evening. Jr was shrewdly guessed tharevery young - man came with at least iwo in his pockets, for tile girls av - n•wed th'at never. before hal Farider "Bradley's -field of corn proilbeed So Many. As for Kate, she wa kissed Mid kiiitrd' atitri-*— ifas she j ai legil to er Mend—making* stir. tee of necessjtY; site 'setahitted . With the Itindliest graoci idaginable; , arid if the truth must be told, enjoi/d the froliC With as lively. 4 rut as any one present: .. . . se • So ft *as at old farther Bradley'!: *ken Kate went hack to, Boston, sire ,was. free to . own that she bad' enjoyed a new kind.'of merry-making, and avowed her determination to lax at old Epliraini'a Bradley's when thee next busking came 'off. --,„ --4,44MP---------- WHAt A . WOUOT motto Posszse.—We Call thaintentioaot our lady readers to* the following catalougd from- the - Italiani-_the perusal of which rilliat: interest them Inner. By hohling this tableau . iti one hand and a mirror -in •the other, a woman can, in• less, than two minutes, render an exact account of het persenal ellen/Is. New, observe* the improiementl - l'Ure - IVO ladies who ham _ come to fifty year. _Without ever being able to know positive!) injwhat regard they•are held. To be esteetned beautiful, it is necessary for a whinaii to have: . • 3 . white things—thi skin, teeth and hands;; .4 black things—eyes, eyelashes, eyebrows; 3 rosy things—the lips, bosom and nits things--,the body, hair and hands c 3 short things—thesteeth, ears and trmgue; narrow thingi—Waist, twouth, and instep; .broad Things—forehead, shoulders i sad intelligence; 3 small -things—the nose, head tord s kiett 3 delicate things—fingers, bps, and s chin;- 3 round things—the ain't,. leg, and dOirer; In all 30 accomplishments, which coned. tutes a perfect woman. But perfectiowitnot of this world_! 1414P-BUiIMING AT EAST Bosrox.-46em arereigllt'new Teasels of. Dearly 10,00 tow ageolow building is the different sbiti tt r i s at East toeton, employing affeed .046-4 /scib. gqes,—ipite a revival front the recipe eta 4.• onion of the bueinem
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers