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