The Jeffersonian. (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1853-1911, May 05, 1853, Image 1

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    JDcBotci) to fJolitits, literature, 3lgvtntlttt, Science, jJloralitu, iRnir ciuval Intelligence.
VOL. k
NO. 28.
PiibliSleil by Tlu&dbrc Sclioch.
TMS 7) dollars' per'aTinntim in advnhce Tw'o
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mployetf by tho- proprietor, will be chaYged 37 1-i!
.No papers tliicontinued until all arrearages are paid,
except atthebption of the Editor.
JH? Adrbrt4.ements riot exceeding one square (six
teen lines will be inserted three weeks for one dollar,
and twenty-five cents for every subsequent insertion.
The Clrarpe for one and three insertions the same.
A liberal discount made to yearly advertisers.
TE? AlHetters addressed tb the Editor must be post-
IFaviir a general assortment of large, elegant, plain
indorliBniental Typ'e.wc are prepared
J to execute every description of
Cards, Circulars, Bill Heads, Note's, Blank Hcccipts
Justices, I.egal and other Blanks, Pamphlets, &c.
printed ith neatness and despatch, on reasonable
.Teffcrsoiiiau Republican.
The Mother's Grave.
"Father,a wake the storm is load,
The rain is falling- fast;
Let me gefyo my mother's grave,
And screen it from the blast.
She cannotsleep she will not rest
The wind is.roaring so;
We prayedLhat she might lie in pence
Mv father, let us go."
Thy mother llecps too firm a sleep
To heed tleuvind that blows;
There angel-iharms that hush the noise
Prom reacmg.her repose.
;ller spirit, in creams of the blessed land,
16 sitting Et Jesus' feel;
Child, nestle ll&c in mine arms and pray
Our rest ma jibe as sweet."
.From all boresback biters, inquisitive
people, tell-tales, and hollow-hearted evil
doers, deliver us.
From long-winded, prosy essays, ha
rangues and hail storing, from high vinds
of adversity and rich relations, delivpr us.
From whimsical wives, pet dogs and
fashionable daughters and 100 dollar
shawls, deliver us. ' j
From other people's babies and Itheir
mint stick, from harangues about smart
children and their capers, deliver ur
From rheraatism and lumbago, quack
doctors, drugs, pills and potations, diliver
From smoky shimneys, scolding ' rives
and washdays, deliver, us.
From amateur poets and love suanets,
fencing-masters and fish-hooks, deliver
From bogus money delinque sub
seribers'and protested notes, delivirr us.
From horse-jockeys Yankee-i)edlers,
street brokers and undertakers, deliver us.
i .From all king-craft,i witch-craft and
priest-craft, 'Good Lord' deliver as.
Signification or 'Erie.1 Tie ques
tion is often asked 'why Bo many storms
and disasters upon Lake Erie? l&hy the
difference between that and tls other
Lakes of the United States and British
America?' It is said to be causellbyt he
extreme shallownes of its water;! which
are more easily disturbed than tlswaters
of its neighbors. Hence the naoy 'Erie
and Indian name signifying 'insi,' 'the
mad lake.' This name, like aBlIndian
proper names, is very signified of the
boisterous charater of Lake Ertfl
A Cube for Sceatcbbs on Bobses.
Take white or red lead, mesjit with
oil, and rub it a few times on the part
diseased, and a cure will be effected. The
scurf should be washed off clean every
day with warm soap suds, and the lead
thoroughly rubbed in. A couple of
spoonfulls of sulpher given to &e horse
tce a week, will be of service to him.
I have found this .to cure when everything
else laiiea. too e
of Beekmantown
So says W. N. Ohatterton,
town, N. I. in the Genesee
Anecdote fob Parexts.-'IIb the La-
die's' Repository for April, isiho follow
ing anecdote, which the editor heard re-
jasea in a lamily circle a Jejr evenings
few evenings
flom Cali for- j
' "A brother just returned
nia was present Jn a congregation of
brother Owen, when a babelin the arms
of its mother bogan to cry.l A thing so
unusual in California, attracted not a lit
tle attention, and the mothek rose to re
tire. "Don't leave," said the preacher,
"the sound of that babe's ice is more
trtorosting to many in the congregation,
tkas that of my own. It is perhaps, the
ewcetost music many a iflfii has heard
since, long time ago, he t6& leave of his
distant home." Tho effect was instan
taneous and powerful, and large portion
cf the oongragation moltcdfcnto tears!"
XTJAn old balled thus gives the geDe
aloy of snow : 1
ly father was the North Wind,
Iy mother's Dame was M&fer j ,
Parson Winter married &m,
The Wife's Forethought.
Anson Kimball had been married about
a month. His business was at tin-making,
and he had a shop of his own, and
his whole stock was paid for, so he felt
quite independent, the future looking all
clear and bright. His wife was one of
those mild, loving creatures that hang
fondly upon the interests and affections
of the husband, and whose soul may sink
or swim with the fortunes of the being
it has chosen for a partner.
One evening the young couple were
sitting in their comfortable apartment,
the husband engaged in reading, the wife
working busily with her needle.
1 1 must be up early to-morrow morn -
ing, Linnie, for our party starts shortly
after sunrise," said Anson, as he laid
down his paper and leaned back in his
"Then you are going, are you ?" re
marked Linnie. There was just enough
of regret in her tone to render her voice
less lively than usual, but it must have
been a very keen observer that could have
noticed it.
"Oh, to be sure," returned the young
man, in a gay, laughing tone. " You
know the hands in the old shop go
tins salt water nshmg excursion every
year, and of course I must go with them.
We can't take our ladies with us on such
a trip, but you shall have a good time to
make up for it."
" You must not think, Anson, that I
envy you the pleasure you anticipate, for
I am sure nothing can give me more sat
isfaction than to know that vou are en
joying yourself."
"I believe you, Linnie ; and I assure
you I shall enjoy myself on this trip ex
ceedingly. So you will be happy too, eh !"
"Certainly," returned the young wife;
but the word seemed spoken reluctantly.
" Come, come Linnie, you don't speak
as you feel. Now, you don't want me to
go," said Anson, with a tinge of disap
pointment in his tone.
" If you think it would be for your
good to go, of course I should want you
" And how can it be otherwise ?"
" You won't be offended, Anson, if I
tell you ?"
" Poh, what an idea. I be offended
at you ? Come, tell me your thoughts."
" As the young man spoke, he moved
his chair to the side of his wife and put
his arms about her neck.
" Well," returned Linnie, in an earnest
but yet pleasant tone, "I was thinking of
the expense."
"Ha, ha, ha the expense. Why, it
won't be over five dollars at the farthest."
" But five dollars are considerable.
You know we are young yet, and all we
have is the house we live in, and your
small shop."
"And is not that enough? How many
of my young friends are there who are e
ren so well off as that V
UI know that you are fortunate, Anson;
but vet none are beyond the reach of
misfortune. For a few years we had bet- ,
ter live as economically as possible with
consistent enjoyment."
" So I intend to ; but what is five dol
lars to the amount I shall be able to lay
up in a year ?"
"Why it will make that amount eight
or ten dollars short."
"That's strange logic, Linnie."
" Not at all, Anson. You will spend
five dollars in money, and lose the time
of two working days.7'
" So I shall ; but I tell you, Linnie,
I'll work enough harder to pay for it
when I get back. So, I may, go, mayn't
" Of course you may," returned Lin
nie with a smile ; but I suppose I shall
have to go without a little sum I had
" How much was it ?"
"Five dollars."
" 0, ou can have that, of course, and
more too, if you want it."
" That will be enough."
Anson Kimball took out his wallet and
handed his wife out a five dollar bill and
the conversation turned upon other and
various matters.
Anson Kiniball wai like thousands of
others who are situated in like circum
stances. With a free and open heait he marked
out bis future for a field of enjoyment,
without taking care to mako much prep
aration for the storms he might be likely
to meet on the way. And then again,
like others, he mistook the character of
life's real enjoyment. He lost sight of
the higher and more noble sources of hap
piness, and dwelt too much in the satis
faction of tho physical appetites. True,
he enjoyed himself, and kept clear of all
extremes, but yet he failed to see that
his enjoyments were nearly all epheme
ral that he was laying up little or noth
ing for time to come.
A year passed away, and the annual
fishing excursion came in course along.
" Well. Linnie," said the young man,
" to-morrow the boys go down the har
bor, and I am going with them. Of
course you have objections !"
"No," returned the.wife, in her usual
pleasant tone, "if you can afford it."
" 0, there's no trouble about that."
"Don't you remember the conversa
tion we had a year ago on this same sub
ject!" asked Linnie.
" Yes, I remomber you talked then a-
j bout saving money, but we ain't any poor-
er now than we should have bcek if I
had staid at home."
"But tell me, Anson, have you laid up
as much during the past year as you ex
pected to ?"
" Why, as for that matter, I haven't
laid up much of anything. The fict is,
Linnie, you have drawn rather har'ler on
me than I expected." f
" But I haven't spent any more jboney
for trivial affairs and amusements than
, l J T Jl iT-Jl. T
i you nave, Vinson, ana jl uou i lumt x
have so much." i
" 1 didn't mean to blame you, myjdear.
I only mentioned the circumstance lo ex
plain why I hadn't laid up anythhg.
But never mind, there's time enougl yet,
and besides, we've 8njoyed ourselves. I
think after this fishing excursion is over,
. however, I shall begin to dock my e;pen
ses a little, for I must lay up a little lome
thing the next year." f
" We certainly have every chafce to
save money," returned Linnie, " for the
shop and house are ours without rent, and
we are free from debt."
Anson Kimball started at that lait re
mark, and turned his face toward the
window, but his wife did not appeir to
notice his emotion.
"You know, Anson," continued Mrs.
Kimball, "that you promised me I slould
i have five dollars when you went or an
other excursion, and I shall certiunly
hold you to that promise."
" Of course that's fair," returned the
young man, " but do you need it n(w ?"
" Yes."
" What are you going to do with i V
" You won't be offended !"
" Then, to tell you the truth, I
little sum."
The young man looked earnestly at
his wife, and though he evidently wiihed
to say something about her runnirg in
debt, yet, for reasons best known to lim
self, he kept quiet, and handed oveithe
five dollars. I
Anson joined his old shop-mates on
other excursion, and when he returnel he
thought some about beginning to cu off
some of his unnecessary expenses, but he
introduced no new system of operations.
Two or three times did he refrain torn
indulging some petty appetite, but he soon
settled back into the old track, andjthe
small bits of money slipped away as fast
as ever.
" Three years had passed away shce
the 3Toung couple were married, andjfew
could have wished for more social cm
fort than they had enjoyed during Jthe
greater part of that time. Fo; a
month or two, however, tho young nan
had been gradually growing more soper
and thoughtful, until at length he hadjbe
come really sad and down-hearted
His wife endeavored to cheer him jup,
though she was unable to learn tho caise
of his dejection. ,
One eveningjustbefore dusk, Linnieiaw
two men pass her window and enter jier
husband's shop. One of them she kney to
be the Sheriff, and the circumstance tpu
bled her not a little. She waited half an
hour for her husband to come to supper,
but he did not and her sufferigs
began to be acute. A thousand conjje-
; tures flitted through her mind, but tley
brought her no consolation, and at length
she determined to go to the shop d(or
and see if she could not over-hear some
thing of what was passing, feeling tlat
such a course would at least be pardona
ble. Linnie stole out from the front dicr
and went towards the shop. She placed
her ear to the key-hole and listened, tut
she could only hear an indistinct hum of
of voices, among which was that of ler
husband. The latter was evidently sup
plicating, for his tones were earnest aad
impassioned. Soon there was a move
ment of feet towards the door, and Ljn
nie hastened back to the house, and re
long her husband entered. He loolad
pale and troubled, and with a nervous
movement of his face, as though he would
have concealed the grief that bore hjm
down, he took his seat at the table.
Poor Linnie watched her companion
with an anxiety almost agonizing, but spe
spoke not a word until after Anson hid
sat back from the table. The .food ie
mained almost untouched upon his plate
when he moved away, and he would ha7e
left the house had not his wife stopped
"Husband," said she, in a soft, gentle
tone, at tho same time laying her hard
upon his arm and gazing imploringly in
to his face, "what is it that troubles you!"
"Nothing, Linnie," half fretfully re
turned he, as he made a motion as if to
remove his wife's hand from his arm.
" There is something, Anson I know
there is. Come, do not keep it from me,"
"There is nothing that you need know."
"But a wife need know all that can af
fect her husband thus. What is it, An
son ?"
"It is nothing but my own business, and
a wife need not know all that."
This answer was harsh, and the tears
gushing to Linnie's eyes.
"My dear husband," she said in tender
accents, "to whom, 0, to whom, should
you tell your sorrows, if not to her who
loves you better than life itself I"
"Forgive me, forgive me, Linnie I
meant not to wound your feelings. I am
very miserable and hardly knew what I
"Then tell me all. Come sit down in
my easy chair, for your brow is hot and4
feverjsh, There jjow tell me."
After the young man had taken the
proffered seat he gazed for a moment in
to the face of his wife, and a look of deep
anguish rested upon his features.
"Linnie," he said, " I may as well tell
you all, but you must not chide me, nor
must you despond, for all is not so dark
as might be. I am deeply in debt, and
to-morrow my shop and all that it con
tains, will be advertised by the sheriff for
sale. '
" In debt," murmured the wife.
"Yes. During the last two years I
have been purchasing stock on credit, and
paying for it as it has been convenient
At first it seemed an easy way of doing,
but it has proved fatal ; for when I re
ceived the pay for my goods, I forgot, or
at least did not sufficiently heed, that all
that money was not mine. I forgot that
more than halt of all the money 1 received
belonged to the men of whom I had pur
chased stock. Two notes fell due day
before yesterday. The man to whom I
gave them sold them in the way of busi
ness to a western firm, and now they
must be paid. To-morrow, an officer will
be placed in my shop, and nearly every
thing will have to be sold. It is not the
loss of my stock and tools that I care so
much about, for I have health and strength
and I can earn more, but it is the disgrace
of the thine- To think that I should fall
like this, nie a healthy, stout, good me
chanic." " How much do you owe ?" asked Lin
nie, in a trembling voice.
"Both notes amount to four hundred
"And haven't you any part of it I"
"Only aboutfifty dollars that lean col
lect readily."
; And if these two notes were paid,
you would be safe V
" Yes."
"Then, thank God, you will not suffer!"
exclaimed Linnie. And overcome by
her feelings, she sank upon her husband's
neck, and burst into tears.
"Linnie, Linnie," cried the young man,
"what do you mean !"
"Wait a moment, my husband."
The wife brushed the tears from her
cheeks as she spoke and left the room,
and in a few moments she returned bear
ing in her hand a small book. There was a
bright smile upon her fair face, and hus
band looked upon her with her astonish
ment. "Here my husband," she said, stepping
to his side and placing the book in his
hand, at the same time winding her arm
about his neck, "if you carry that to the
bank they will give you three hundred
and seventy-five dollars for it."
"Three hundred and seventy-five dol
lars !" repeated the astounded man, hard
ly crediting the evidence of his own sen
ses. " Yes, Anson," returned the wife, sin
king into her husband's lap. "That is
money that I have been laying up during
the last three years."
" lrou laid it up, Linnie ! But where
could Tou have got it?"
"You gave it to me yourself to spend
for trifles. You know I havo claimed my
share of such money. Do not blame me,
Anson ; but I feared that you did not at
tach sufficient importance to the aggre
gate of the small sums you were almost
daily spending. Once or twice I would
have remonstrated, but you could not be
made easily to see it. I was but a young
girl, and I feared to set up against my
husband, so I resorted to this means of
proving my position. 0, my dear hus
band, you cannot know what sweet
pleasure I experience in finding that my
experiment has been the means of such
"If your pleasure is equal to mine, then
you must be happy indeed," exclaimed
Anson, as he drew his fond wife to his
bosom. " God bless your Linnie, and
make me able to repay you for this. Now
I see to whom you havo owed the little
debts you have sometimes contracted, and
which I have helped you to pay."
" Yes," returned Linnie with a smile.
" It was to' you I owed them. And yet,"
she added, with a meaning look, and in
a lower tone of voice, "I have not drawn
quite so much from the amusement fund
as "
"Hush, Linnie. I know I have epent
more than I was aware of, but my eyes
are open now, and I see it all."
" And you do not blame me for what
I havo done T"
" Blame you !" exclaimed Anson, im
printing a warm kiss upon his wife's brow.
" Let my future course show you how
fondly you are cherished, and how faith
fully I will be guided by your judgment.
On the next day Anson Kiniball paid
off those who would have sold hisstock,
and ho had the pleasure of tearing his
two notes in pieces. He spent no more
money foolishly, and as he found the pro
ducts of his labor boginning to gather in
his hands his home grew brighter and
his enjoyments were increased. By stea
dy degrees he arose to a position of hon
orable affluence, but through all his suc
cesses he never lost sight of the gratitude
he owed to the gentle, faithful being who
had first opened his eyes to a knowledge
of the secret of success, and saved him
from pecuniary disgrace. He was an
honored and respected man, but he felt
that he owed it all to his Wife's Fore-,
1 To tell if young peoplr abe in
LOVE See if they relish salt pork; if they
do, you can consider tbenj convalescent,
From the N. Y. National Dciiiocral.
im and 1853.
This is a fast age. We live at locomo
tive speed. A century of life is crowded
into a year. The last seventy years al
most equal in rapid development of the
race, any previous thousand years of the
world '8 history. A distinguished writer
in the cause of Liberty, in the Revolu
tion, in surveying our country's future,
then attempted to be choked to death, by
the red hand of British monarchy, said
in effect, "Never since the time of Noah,
hath a people been placed in our position.
The future is in our hands, and we have
to begin the business of the icorhl anew."
Nobly has our country fulfilled this say
ing of the prophetic writer of the Revolu
tion. Let '76 and '53 stand face to face
for a moment, and the world will be
struck dumb by the miracle of contrast
which they present. Or, so bring the
matter home more palpably, suppose
Washington risen from his grave, for a
little while, and enthroned on the highest
peak of the Alleghanics, surveying as
with a supernatural scope of vision, tile
Land, from ocean to ocean, from noth
ern snows to the Gem of the Antilles.
What a contrast to the days of '76 would
meet the gaze of the great man! In '76
the United States consisted of 13 colonies,
pent up between the Alleghanies and the
Atlantic, with a population of barelv
three millions, struggling for life itself a
gainst the most powerful the most brutal
monarchy of the age.
In 1853, the United States consists of
thirty-one great Republics, cemented m
indissoluble union, with a population of
twenty-five million; her vast tentory
fronts alike towards the rising and the
setting sun, the Atlantic and the Pacific
are hei eastern and western boundaries,
they are not settled yet; by no means
finished; Destiny will take care of them.
Washington risen from his tomb and sur-
veying the land from the topmost height,
need not let his vision be checked by eith
er Niagara Falls or the Gulf of Mexico;
there is a great deal of United States yet
to come, beyond culf and cataract. .Ni
agara will yet sing the hymn of a Repub
lican continent. Call up Franklin, and
let him contrast the industrial resources
of '76 with '53. We can imagine the
state of wonder which would light up his
hearty, good-humored face.
In his clay, one John Fitch, and the
unextinguishable laughter of a crowd of
merchants and other respectable people
assembled on a Philadelphia wharf, tried
the expriment of propelling a boat by the
force of steam. In his day, also, Oliver
Evans, another madman of the Fitch
stamp, amid the pity or contempt of all
men of common sense, tried to propel a
wagon on the Lancaster 'pike, (near Phil
adelphia,) by the force of steam, suc
ceeded, too, but was set down as a mere
theorist and dreamer by all practical men.
Well; Doctor, look over the land, now!
The Continent is net-worked with iron
ways. The Locomtive is heard every
where, it is never silent, from the cata
ract to the Gulf. And the Hudson, the
Ohio, tho Mississippi, the ocean in the
east, and the ocean in the west, send up
night and day, the smoke of the steam
boat to Heaven; the very steamboat.Doc
tor, which John Pitch, in imperfect form,
tried one day on the Delaware river, and
in minature, upon the New York Kolch.
From the Aroostook to the Bay of
San Francisco, Doctor, the steam-engine
dumb matter fired into strong, terrible
life, at the command of science never
rests, not for an hour, nay, not for a mo
ment, out of the twenty-four. Through
the still night you hear its mighty breath
ings; its fires rise through the darkness
from ocean
to ocean; its iron tramp is
never still upon iron ways; and upon riv
er and sea, its hoarso anthem never dies.
But, as if this was not enough, Doctor
as if steam was not fast enough for this
hurrying age here comes the Ericssoi,
gliding up New York Bay, with its new
motor, destined to dethrone steam, even
as steam annihilated the stage coaches,
lumbering wagons and snail-like moving
hand-labor of '76.
Suppose that Franklin has learned
nothing since his transit to another sphere,
(and if the rapping utterances which the
mentebank supernaturalists put in Frank
lin's mouth, be true, he has sadly gone
back in every respect,) let us imagine
him, risen from his grave, and confronted
with Nineteenth Century Ericsson. How
tho great Doctor would open his eyes, as
he found 'himself on board tho Ericsson,
gliding down the Bay of New York, and
with the inventor of the new motor by
his side, cxplaiuiug in plain tortus the
features of his invention! Put Franklin
and Ericsson side by side and two centu
ries look wonder-struck on each other's
face. Not the expansion of territory, a
lone, nor the increase of population, nor
yet the miraculous advance of all indus
trial interests, nor even yet, the wondrous
life, given by science to dumb .machinery,
would excite the surprise of Washington
and Franklin, could they come back into
our world.
The greatest wonder of all, would be
the great progress which tho People,
the masses have made since the era of
the crossing of the Delaware. Ihen, tuo
masses wore a distinctive dress, which set
them apart from the. wealthy class, and;
wrote serldom on their very externals; please God, that batoaiu uiat scene
they were ridden down by odious lawj'shall be a talisnmn uP?n whiqli memory,
gathered from the charnel house of the ! shall ineffaceably inscribe,
rncf shrVi lis Tmnrisnnmonf: for nnd
I'") -v. t j
other fragments ,of tho legal Moloch of 1
the red and black ages; now, the mas
ses aro men, and not serfs or machines,
and they have risen into full manhood,
with the fragments of many an infernal
law, trampled firmly under foot. Now,
the wassess know no such word as "Go
back!" in their upward march; their fu
ture is in the care of a benign Destiny,
and all-paternal God.
It is a good thought, aud full of conso
lation for every lover of his kind, that
despite of all tho clouds that have low
ered upon our country for the last seven
ty years despite the thousand obstacles
which have from time to time blockaded
the pathway of the people yet still, "the
world does move!" and the Destiny of tho
Country and the People cannot go back,
but must inevitably inarch onward. The
next seventy years will tell the story.
From the Musical World and Times.
Father TaylGr the Sailor's
You have never heard Fatheb Tay
lor, the Boston Seaman's preacher?
Well you should go down to his church
some Sunday. It is not at the court-end
of the town. The urchins in the neigh
borhood arc guiltless of shoes or bonnets.
You will see quite a sprinkling of "Po
lice" at the corners. Green Erin, tooiis
well represented: with a dash of Africa
checked off with "douch faces."
Let us go into the church: there are no
stained-glass windows no richly dra
peried pulpit no luxurious seats to sug
gest a nap to your sleepy conscience. No
odor of patchouli, or nonpareil, or bouquet
de violet will be wafted across your pa
trician nose. Your satin and broadcloth
will fail to procure you the highest seat
in the synagogue, they being properly
reserved for the "old salt3."
Here they come! one after another,
with horny palms and bronzed faces. It
stirs ray blood, like the sound of a trum
pet, to see them. The seas tbey have
crossed! the surging billows they have
breasted! the louely, dismal, weary nights
they have kept watch! the harpies in
port who have assailed their generous
sympathies! the sullen plash of the sheet
ed dead in its vast ocean sepulchre! what
stirring thoughts and emotions do their
weather-beaten faces call into play!
God bless the sailor! Here they come;
sure of a welcome conscious that they
are no intruders on aristocratic landsmens
soil sure that each added face will send
a thrill of pleasure to the heart of the
good old man, who folds them all, as one
family, to his patriarchal bosom.
There he is! How reverently he drops
on his knee and utters that silent prayer.
Now he is on his feet. With a quick
motion he adjusts his spectacles, and says
to the tardy tar, doubtful of a berth,
"Room here, brother!" pointing to
in the yulpit. Jack don't know about
that! He can climb the rigging when
Boreas whistles his fiercest blast: he can
swing into the long boat with a stout
heart, when creaking timbers have par
ted beneath him: but to mount the pul
pit! Jack doubts his qualifications, and
blushes through his mask of bran.
"Room enough, brother!" again re-assures
him; and, with a little extra fumbling at
his tarpaulin and hitching at his waist
band, ho is soon as much at home as tho'
he were on his vessel's deck.
The hvmn is read with a heart-tone.
There is no mistaking either the poet's
meaning or the reader's devotion. And
now, if you have a 'scientific musical ear,T
(which, thank heaven, I Have not,) you
may criticise the singing, while I am not
ashamed of the tears that steal down my
face, as I mark the effect of good Old
Hundred (minus trills and flourishes) on
Neptuues honcst,hearty,whole-souled sons.
The text is announced. There fol
lows no arrangement of dickeys, or brace
lets, or eyeglasses. You forget your
ledger and the fashions, the last prima
donna, and that your neighbor is not ono
of the "upper ten," as you fix your , eyo
(with me) on that good old man, and are
swept away from worldly moorings by
the flowiug tide of his simple, earnest el
oquence. You marvel that these uttered
truths of his, never struck your thought
less mind before. My pen fails to con
vey to you the play of expression on that
earnest face those emphatic gestures
the starting tear or the thrilling voice;
but they all tell on "Jack."
Aud now an infant is presented for
baptism. The pastor takes it on onqtarm.
0, surely he is himself a father, else it
would not be poised so gently. Now ho
holds it up, that all may view its dimpled
beauty, and says: ''la there one here who
doubts, should this child die to-day, its
right among the blessed?" One murmur
ed spontaneous 2oi bursts from Jacks'
lips, as the baptismal drops lavo sin
less temples. Lovingly the little lamb is
folded, with a kiss and a blessing, to' the
heart of tho earthly shepherd, ere the'ma
ternal arms receive it.
Jack looks on and weepsl and bpwican
he help weeping! He was once as ,pu,re
as that blessed innocent! His mother
the sod now covers her often invoked
heaveu's blessing on her &on and well he
remembers tho touch of her gentle band
jand the sound of her loving voice as she
j murmured tho imploring prayer for hiror
and how has her sailor boy rcdeemeOJiis
. . , -1
youthful promise? lie dasuea awajiiia
scalding tears, with his horny palra;lbutP
I 'Gd anil
Ein no more.
Fat Fern