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l-f.:l,'i!'.i.f t t . '
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Utl'Hio .-.'la 'ilt; ' I ;;. !; ft r 'i ,
"ii V f:rt ! d llll.
ti lj.t'i) ,i'.r?i ";
; ii ; r. " '
.tiW l...r .. r.;i.
' : MI. B. MASSER; EDITOR AND PROPRIETORi
OFFICE,: CORNKR OF CENTRE A tttiY & MARKET STREET.
jramflg iirtogpapcr-actotrt to Holftfcs, HfKtaturr, --TOiwifttf, JTotttitti ttnttUoinbtfc rtD;scmc atttt the 'arts,' aortcutturfi larkets,r amttsrments, ?c.
NEW 8E11IKS VOL. 1, tiU. SiO.
SUN BURY, NORTIIUMBfe:'RLAN tt' 1'OUNJ Y,.pi., SATURDAY, .OCTOBER 1, 184$.
OLD SERIES-VOL. 0, NO. 4':
- . . tie- Civ 11 ' j ' i 11 .. . , - . r ',
, THE AMERICAN it publllhed evrr Saturday it TWO
DOLiUAiit pt wmum to b fmld h.Uf ynrlr in iidvinre.
N." Miwt (liae utinucd until all nrreiiriign m paid.
, AU t nninunioatinnt at Mian im hmliK-M relatiiif to lh(
ofltct, la iiuara attenti m, mult ba POST PAID.
',' , TO CLUBS.
. Threa eoplai to on atMren, '' '(300
'Sevan lht 1 100U
'Firiaart ' 1 Du IJ WUU
, Five eWlara in ailvauca Will pay fjt threa year's aubacrip
tion W the American.
baa Samara of 1 line, timee, . . f 1 00
.Pvery aubaaqoenl iniertijn, U
MIC sjunre. luuiuu.. .
llia.)iha, 1 37
- . i Mill
Buaineta Canto of Fiv Unea, per annnn,. SOU
Merrhanta aiid othera, aitvertiainc by the
fear, with the privilege !' inaertiefdif
feraiil advartiaenteiHa weekly. 1000
tW larger Advemaeineiaa, per agreement.
H. E. IvIASSEPa,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
6UWBUB.Y, PA. :
Buaiima vitriidwi t m m tiiiuntKia ol Nn
tiuirlrrland, Uniini. Lrtmint and t inlumbia,.
i-'-r ' Ralar ta i
P. St A HnviilMlT.
I.OWKM & B4RRIIR, '
(omkii A riaunaaaia,
.Mlait.
RaiKOLKt, McCAmnnH & Co
rtKimo,Moon & Co.,
TRB CHEAP BOOK STORE.
: DA1TIEL3 &. SMITE'S
CMaI Nkw k Skcond baud Boos Sio.
tfurtk Wert cornrr nf fourth and Arch Slrteli
i - PkilaHtlpMn.
Liw Book a. Th"olnfifal and Claaainl Booki,
MBDIOAL BOOKS,
lilOGKAPHlCAl.it HISTORICAL BOOKS,
- SCHOOL OOKS.
SciRSTiric and Matbkmaticai. Po tl
:. . Jtivtnih Books, in artai variety.
Ilymti Rnok and Prayet Booka, Biblfi, all iz!
j ainl firiri
Blank Books, Writing Paper, andStationary,
it' ' fa-" H'1-V.
tV Or price" are mnch l iwer than tbe Ein. pricei.
I if I.ihinriea nnd a mll paiwla nf h va purchaaed.
B"" impirted to orrier fr va Lond m.
Philadelphia, April I, 1848 y
"POTLT3T ENGLISH,
; GROCERS COMMISSION MERCHANTS
and Dralrra In Reed.
', .V. 3. Aeh St PHILADELPHIA
ConMantlv mi hand gpiifral awortinent nf
GROCERIES, TEAS, WINES, SEES,
LIQUORS, &c.
To which Ibey tnprrUnWy invite tbe attention
ot th public.
All kind of country produce taken in exi-hange
for Oroceriei or auld nn romtniaaion.
Philad April 1. i-48
BASKET
MANUFACTORY,
Ai. 16 &vuih Seamrittrft Eaut n'fe. down $ia!rt.
PHILAUELPHIA.
HENRY COULTER,
RF.SPE' TKtJIXY inloima hi frienda and
(ha pub ic. ttiat he coiialant y keepa on
hatiU Urge aoitment nf chi drena wilow
I oachea, Chairs, I'rad e. matket and Have.
liiH banken. and every variety of banket work
manufactured.
Country Werchanta and othera who wiah to
purchase inch uticea. good and cheap, would
do wei local on him. they are al manulac
tured by him inthe beat manner.
IMii ade phia. June 3. 1848. ly
' WM O MASON.
tt Chenxil t. S O 't nftor 5rf t . Philml'lnhm
Engraver al Bl'SINESS Ic VISITING CAROS,
Watch panera I.ahel Poor plate. Sal. ami
flainpi iorTjilrt Kellnwa S.ma of T" "
fcP fcf " AlwlV on hand a -neral aoriinnl
ol Fin Fi'cy J'da jttu'd p-n of every quality
Don Collar, in tt.-i iieiy. F.nsravera touN
and rr.ater ala .
A'ii'cy (affile If wwUf""" t'Ui'-r l"
" o'.'ii M per mail (piw fin) ' " P1""-'"""
atlelided to . i
Pb.fad. Ibi. Apnl 1- 1"4B y
Toirvr Y n r: t: 11 . T
Cva aave Iraiu IS la er Cent.
1V jp. crha.ioe their OILCLOTHS direct
fcuta Ihe Manuiaeliiiera
' PO C rF.R k CARVICH F.L
Have ryiniied a Warehmi". No MS North Third
Street il.e Race, erond door Souih of Ibe Ea
flailolnl, VHILAPFXPHIX
v1te Vhy -ialviay keey on hand a complete
...n.trj,...l T P' tenl ' C.rr age
:l.U US -3. 40- 48 and 34 incnea wine, r i
fttrad.lPamt-'t, and lain on th inaide. on '.lua.
im DrillM m: L'nen Table Oil ChKhr, ( ,nF
annat jeauable patterna. 30, 40 4nurt. 1(.h,
areile f,tnor O'l f foA. from 28 incr4ea lo 81
Jeet wiu. welt aeaaoued. and newe.t atyle
of pat)tia, all of their o o ir.anu acture Trana
ren'trWtndow Sbadaa.Ciptt;, kt All gooda
iwki.tanwd. ' !f ..... '
,Vhil- MT 91 i88 im
ittBMT T'd.nMlVVZ PlaVIfO rOHlBS.
ri HE HUBSC'IUBKR haabeen appointee, event
! for the aaUof CONRAD MEYER'S CF.LE
BRATEO PRE IU ROSE WOOD PIANOS,
m.ra Theaa Pianoa have plain. ma-
aiva and beautiful eitenor finiah. and, lor depth
a4 ton, and elegance of workmaff.bip. ar not
anrpaaaed by any in the Dnilad bUlea
- -I k... .n.iri.ineniiare hmhlv approved of by
"ibe meet eminent Prnfeaaort and ompo.era of
'Mum ia bia and other ritiea.
fof qualitiea pf ton, touch and keeping u
ion upon Cor,cer.V pitch, they cannot be aucpaa
i J k inuiria or F.uloneall Pianoa.
Jh4ce,l to aay that Madam Caatellan. W V
Wallace. Vleui '"l hit aiater, lh eel.
bfled pimi, apo many omera oi me mn u..
Xinquiahed performer b... given Ibeae inaliu
. ru.uM nver all otheri
They have al.o r eeived Ihe iat notice ofh
4k.. l..i F.hihmoiia and the laat Silver Melal
by lb Fianaem nartn in 184J. wa awarded
la them, which, 'with mhc prmiam from th
earn war. b ! toasn Na
a aouih Fourth it. ,
rrnr Another .lvr Mdal w.i ' C
Meyer, by 1b Frahklin 1tilit, Ocl I84S foi
!b, bl Pno M row Mhibitioa. . ,
.t it., exhibition of lh Franklin Inat)
tut O. I lS4jMb 4r- premium and medal w-aa
awarded ti i f. Mever for hi. Pianoa although H
bad hen warded ar th eiMbnion nf h year
,k. m.d Itraf he had mad at HI great
t impfvmnU In bii Inatrtrwenli within lb
st 1? niontha." " ' '. ' , ' . '" ' '
H .. .k. r..t .vhihltton of th Franklin
nil.' another Premium was awardd
11 n a..r for th beat Piano in lb hibitin
V. i i i.' J ,L A. t mWwmr Medal and
- w0f ye ceive - V V . 7 , 7. . .
- ' 4 L.., annar PiailOill lh lhlltB
4b e- - he-aod at lb rr.tnnflu-
Tbt Piano T'.. . t. Knot anmMhing
... i . fM.Udlnbia Ptii u -j
GEMS OF POESY.
THE AIROIIA BOREALIS
-.-;' i.
' Fitful meteoia!
Wondn-ua creature '
Of the (rreat creative power I "
Glancing hiiher,
Flitting hither,
Phantoms of the midnight hour!
Whejnce your coming 1
Whither roaming'!
What your misMon, prithee, tell 1
Vour history
Is mystery,
Dark the region where you dwell.
i Vain our dreams are '
What those gleams are,
Whence or w herefore, none can say;
Vainly science
Bidf defiance,
Your myst'ries are hid for aye.
II.
Do the Peris
From their eyeries
Far away near Heaven's gate
'Mid lightning blunt
Wing their descent
Earthward messenger of Fate
Or, gleaming far '
'Yond farthest star,
Light'st the fair assembling throng
For festival
In Heaven's hall,
Angelic dance, and seraphtc song!
Or from the Pyre
Of Hi-aven's ire down
Shoots thou in wrathful vengeance
'Gainst fated head
Of the misled
Of mortals old in error grown t
III.
"Vain gnessps all,"
A mystic pall
Hangs e'er the hist'ry of your race
Forbidding man
Your ways to scan,
Or going to and fro to trace.
Imaginings
No nearer brinsrs
Nor science wi'h her argus-eyne
Thy depths defy
Philosophy,
We know no more than what is seen
A glorious light
Adorning Niht,
Phantom spirits of tho sky,
Wandrring ever,
Resting never
In their pathways far on hiiih!
dry Item.
From Sharpe's London Magazine.
! ECO ELECTIONS
OP THE LIFE OP
GEN. Slli F;II- K Cli
I well remember the first scenes of my
existence, at thp least those when my
young observation bepan to look around. I
have some indistinct remembrance of a long
staircase, and a small room with a sloping
roo, a window, a leaden jrutter in tvorA,
some old flower-p rfs, and my sister be-dtinr
me for ptillin? the hatves; my mother
scolding her, with the harsh oice of my
father above all ; and although these are by
s;one sensations,! verily believe, could I find
out the miserable garret, should know it
again.
My nes and more perfect impressions
are of 'i nvat room, with curtains at the
wic,rfov;,nd a street in front, thronced
VMi people , my father dressed better than
us npisrnnors, mm my i"""
far different attire than I had ben accus
tomed to see them. I, too, was well and
and warmlv clad ; had cakes, and oranges,
and meat all I could desire. , 1 . :
I47.nr thochanee came about l neter Knew,
but I do remember hearin? that iy father
had been lucky,and some ot nisacniamian
ces (and he had nauzhty il'.beha ed men
. i i f ..I .. L- ik.i
always backwaros ana iorw.iu,, jw
he was a clever lucky fellow. r
My ideas then were tnai men aui oovs
2ht to swear, lor my fa'.her seldobspoke
0113
without swearing; but tn ine .omr,
should not, for my mother never did and it
always seemed td vex ner. oii tr
mildest, soltest-mannerea creams rrr
knew.and if Ithen had a redeemingliiality
in my character, it was iove i...,
tation (sometimes) of my mother's mnner.
My father was a lyrani in m
none of ui dared to say anything whta he
was at home; my mother always trebled
when he came in. I remember once i, the
atreet savins something to one of my Jay
fellowsiu which I mentioned that ty-as
aita if U'39 11 IP. for I heard my fathergay
M ; at that moment I received a blow otlhe
head, which leliea w
then I was lifted up by my clothes, hd
carried home. I never shall lorgeime rry
with, wk'.rh mv father (tor it was ne vo
struck me,) too' Ovef me 4,n(' '
he used even of killing me, rvrr
peated any . sayipgs of his, never
again as long as he Itved. " "
KnmetimM ou had IllenlT. I piuri.
fared acantilv : and I have seeir my rat
take the very lurniturt of the room, al
for tome days, nay wee, n mo
back. . I afterwards round ouv n
mwned. . .. '
This bor must so to 00001," md ml
father, out day, oi- he will ne,vrr be 6 fdl
n thine?. I have made a good thinajd
tkat nlrl houM lately, so aeud him ;w nd 4
school I wnt. I learned to read and write
" F said he to me one day, 44 you
must .do something for me to-night; be
ready when I call you, and say nothing;'
1 did not like the tone of his voice; nor
had I any, fancy for what 1 was to do, al
though entirely ignorant of its nature; Lut
with me to hear was to obey. ; I had been
asleep some hours, when I was aroused by
being shakt n, and my father stood over me.
He bade me dress myself, I did so; and
we went down stairs together. I observed
he waited till the watchman had passed,
and the sound of " Twelve o'clock" struck
on my ear. We walked many streets, and
at length came to a garden wall, under the
shade of which stood two mem friends of
amy father. One said, "Have you brought
the boy." . . .
Yes," said my father ; " is the. cart
ready." ,
He was answered in the affirmative, and
we proceded a f w steps ; at last one of the
men took a rope out of his pocket, and tied
it around my waist ; thpy instructed ine
how untie it,when I should be in the gar
den on the other side, and go to the garden
door and undo the bolts ; it I could not, I
was to come back, and tie myself up again
and he drawn back, If J was found, I was
to say I had got over the wall, and not
being able to gpt. bud., Lad hidden myself
till night, hoping to get out then. I was
very much frightenrc? ; but the fear of my
father was above all ; so thpy lifted me on
to the top of the wall, and lot me down on
the other side. They gave me two or three
tiisrs to remind me to untie the rope, which
T I ' i I ... ' . . iL . 11 T
1 tun, ana Raw u run up nver ine wan. x
ieu inciinen to sit oown to cry : 1 coma
not have been more than nine years old ;
however the fear of my father was para
mount, so I set off on my walk. I had to
cross the garden, pass round the glass-house
as they described it to me, get into another
garden, and then go under the gardener's
window, where I was to bp sure and make
no nnise. You may be certain I was like
n cat aler cream. At last I found out tbe
door, and contrived to undo it; at the other
side I found my father and the other two
men with the horse and cart. They left
meat the doir, soon returning with an im
mense quantity of grapes, so as to load the
cart, in which one of them drove off, the
othpr with my father shutting the door rery
gently.
We walked home gently ; it was half
past three as we came to our street. Again
we waited till the watchman had passed,
and I was soon in bed. It wasa great time
before I could rro to slpep ; when I did, I
dreamt that a srrea douheld me by the leg,
and I awoke crying out.
The next morning at breakfast the other
two men came in ; they laughed heartily at
old George the gardener, who they said
was half mad ; told me I was the finest lit
tle fellow in England, gave me a few half
pence, and congratulated my father on
having so clever a son.
.It is not my intention to detail all my
adventures; howl was dropped into cellars
by day, and at night oppned the doors fof
those abroad : or how I was at last so ac
customed to this sort of life, and so success
ful, that I could st?vnti behind a door with
out quaking whl'e the master of the house
or a servanj Raised up to bed. One thing
I must r.ierition : to steal was no part of
my bu-iinrss; to open the doors and make
the oeii of my wav home, was all I had to
i'.o.
I remember belnc concealed in a room
belonging to a jeweller in the neighbor
hood, and opening the window at midnight
as directed, (a matter of constant occur
rence ;) and that after I had been home and
asleep, I heard a bustle in my father's room,
and that my mother got up, and my father
groaned very mnch ; but I fell asleep again,
and should have forgotten it all in the morn
ing, had not my father kept his bed, and
looked very ill asl passed through his room.
However, he said nothing to me, and I
walked out alter breakfast as usual ; T soon
met a boy, a son of one my father's friends,
who, like me, was often employed in these
matters. He made a sign to me to follow
him, and we walked together into the fields.
We sat down under a hedge, and he asked
me if I had heard the news! I said, "No
what newel" " Why," said he, "old mi
ser Golding, the silversmith, is murdered."
I had lost all qualms of conscience as to
robbery, for although I knew it was wrong,
still the frequency or the event, my never
having been found out, and my fears of my
father, which I always concluded would be
my excuse, had deadened my feelings. But,
murler ! it struck me as if I had been shot
1 had, however, presence of mind not to
commit myself, and only answered by in
quiring the particulars. Robert, my corrw
panion, was very anxious to find out if I
had been there. The old man had been
found murdered, in a pool of blood, upon
the threshold of his own counting-house
the very room the window of which I had
opened to admit my father. I : however,
denied it to my companion, and we returned
together. The bill-stickerswere at work
2001. rewardl
My heart was sick when I went home,
I was told to sav mv father had gone to
M ' for a fortnight, a journey he often
took on pretence of business; for, be was
what tney can a weaver i agent, aim uig
something In that way.
After dinner I again ventured out, and
strolled into the crowd at the silversmith's
door. : Th first words I heard were, " Mur.
der will out!" " Them as had ny hand in
this is sure to b hanged !" &c. he. t pas
sed on ma cold sweat, and tat me down
on the tow wall of the , ehiiron-yard. j 1
looked un at the sun-aiai ana rea tnese
worrk. "The wicked shall be turned into
hell, and the people that forget God" This
wm the tlrst moment 01 my me mm 1 ten
any ymptomiof religion. " I had neverbe
for bioui-ht ot Pod but e nwne to
swebjr by. AIT day it haunted me., , Tn
Mv laibjleaUowt and hett ere' mt tormentors;
The poor old man." murdered. I could hot
doubt, by. my father? .thad been in the1
same room Vilh him only the night before:
. i . i i . . i
concealed under ohest of drawers, I saw
him lock his boxes, take flff his shoes, put
on his slippers, kneel down and say his
prayers, and heard him go into the next
room and get into bed. Now he M-ai dead,
only since yesterday! Might not I die tool
Nay, I must die some time or other; and
again the words Murder will out ." rang
in my ear. 1 could not go home ; I could
not stand still. I did not know where to
turn; however, I must got home, "or my
father would beat rrwf. My father! a mur
der 1 1 I, determined he : should be my
father no longer ; but, how to avoid it 1
And then my mother, my dear mother!
And so home I wenh . . . , .
At the door I met Robert; he was watch
ing for me, and appeared very inquisitive
to know "where I had been? why' I did
not come home sooner?" f could hardly
shake him off; but mv mother called me.
and I was breaking away from his hold
wnen 1 teit a heavy hand on my shoulder"
and looking up saw .the face of the chief,
constable of the town : a face I knew, well.
I tottered and fell.. What next took place
I knew not. No questions were asked me.
A posse of .constables entered the house;
my mother shrieked; all was confusion.
They went tip-stairs, and, in about half-an
hour, I saw my father brought down stairs
upon his bed, and carried out. He looked
ghastly pale, but said nothing. When he
was gone I own I felt relieved, fof I feared,
and never could love him j all my love Was
for my mother, and when they made me
walk" away with them I cried bitterly for
her. I "as locked up by myself in the jail.
I slept little that night; my misery was ex
cessive. My food tvas good ; 1 saw no one
but the keeper, and fee was very kind. I
determined, however, fro.'n that moment,
never to be concerned in robht ry again, not
even for my father believe f hated him
then. 1
At last I was taken before the magistrarns.
I had been too well tutored to disclose any
ihinjr, indeod I had bepn in my bed by half
past twelve, nnd not even my mother knew I
had been out, no qpe ever came into my
bed-room, and I had crept into the old man's
house after dark, whilst he was t supper. I
was. however, remanded. In tht? afternoon
of that day the chaplain of the jail came to
me. He wasa mild, kind, pleasant, but grave
mnn; he said nothing to me of ihe late mur
der, butjalked to me of God and hi all-see-njr
eye, left me a Bible, and marked down
certain places for me to read. In the solitude
of that cell I did read 5 every word seemed
to enter my soul. The promises of God lo
the good vexe 1 anil alarmed me, for I was not
good. Yet I would re;i l them again and again ;
and when t found tho promise that, "If the
wicked man would turn away from his wick,
ednes, he could save his soul alive," I
snemed as if I could not take my eye off the
lssajre : It was a treasure to me. I never
hull forget my emotion as I read the 130th
Psalm. Could I be included in this! I de
termined to ask iho chaplain, and in tho mean
ime, hoy ns was, I kneeled down and asked
God. How long 1 know not ; but 1 was sob-
bine as if mv heart would break, when I felt
soft hand touch me. I looked up; the
wner of the Bible stood over me ; his eye
were rilled wilh tears. I turned and clasped
his knees, and asked him if God would ever
pardon me; h gently disengaged me, nnd
sat down upon the side of my bed. We had
much talk together, but he never alluded to
the eaae of my being there. He spoke of a
Redeempr of Jeans Christ, and then said.' " I
found you praying; let me pray with you,
and he knelt down. So did I ; and he prayed
so mi'lly, so earnestly, so heavenly, every
word went to my heart. ! I was culmed. The
effect wns like magic; I no lonjrer feared the
sallows so much the anger of God. WheU
ho went away I eoul.l have worshipped him.
Bad thoiishts, however, returned as. my ex
citement pased away I would 'not betray t
I, indeed, confess! No: I would ibe a man ;
and ihen I fell asleep. ' i. I .
Is it to be wondered thai in me state ot
my feelincrs I sbauld have , dreamed ? . I did
I ream, and the impression of it s ti 1 remains
vividly upon my mind ; every thought is now
clear before me I thought that my fa;her
and myself had been hanged ; lhat we were
dead and hiy in' the churchyard. :iCold, very
cold, it was ; and 1 thoucht that my father
turned and tried to take hold of me, but he
could not ; sometimes, indeed, his fingers al
most reached me, and 1 shuddered oh, it
was if a serpent touched me ! On the other
side was my good clergyman, and he too put
out his hand towards me ; und I longed as
much for his touch as I abhorred that of my
father. Presently there came a dreadful fi
gure, and shook its hand at the chaplain, and
told my father to seize me t 1 can never de
scribe what that figure was like ; it haunted
me for years : 1 see it now, but no effort I could
ever make was sufficient to describe it. As
it spoke, my father again reached out bis
hand I I felt he must get hold of me,, and
by a violent effort rolled towards; the other
side. Tbe voice of the clergyman said, ,;lf
you come to roe you roust come wholly, en.
lirely, will youl" I looked at the figure, I
felt the cold icy fingers of any lather tney
began to touch and creep up my aide lo (rasp
meV and I cried oqt, "Yes, yes; whqlly: and
entirely ; 1 will, I will, indeed !" and. I
woke. : 'f : ''
My hair was on end ; a cold sweat rajs
down my face and limbs ; for many minutes
I could still but fancy f was dead, atid that
1 felt those colli fingers touch my side J pay,
even now I have a feeliiu? of the aensat.
U was, however, ilayiigni : frmop i wai.
backwards and forward, leruhed and a-
: -AoiilHtha lh6uBhiof beinV a man! of not
ptaeking, cam across me: but, child as 1
. .
was, 1 could understand the moral ot my
dream ; I even then thought I must go whol
ly to God, or that figure would have me. The
idea was tdo deadful for hesitation J I discard
ed all thoughts but one my resolutidrt ' was
made. - From that moment I believe I may
date that derision of character which ha so
materially conducud to my success in life.
My resolution, 1 said, was made; "yes;
wholly, wholly, 1 am resolved." I believe
few, conversions from, the ways of iniquity,
acting upon a mind as yet not fully imbued
with tho knowledge of a Saviour, were ever
so1 speedy and so fixed as mine 1 waited
with impatience nntil my friend the chaplain
osme asain, siid ihen, asking him to shut the
door, told him all, confessed my whole course
of life, nnd my determination to be hanged
at once ; and turning to my dear 130th Psalm
asked him if God would ever forgive me.
His explanation of the Scripture, of the mer
cy to be found in Jesus, and the reason why
he became a man, entered my heart like a
two-edged sword ( I absolutely devoured his
words ; I era veil more and more; so much so
that more than once the good mnn stopped
and stared at me as if he thought I was act
ing a part anil deceiving him.
"And what use km I to make of your con
fession?" he said.
' "Any use you please," said I ; and he left
me.
In his next visit he repeated the same ques:
tion ; t at once returnad the same answer.
"Do yon know your evidence will hang
your father?" . .
"Oh yes, and myself too."
"No, no, my boy," he said, "not you ;"
nnd he explained to me that the law would
deul very differently with mP.
I nkod his advice; he mi id, that unless it
were necessary, ho thought I ought not to
sv 3ny ming; om inni ine crime was wj
Jreartfi.il, the offender must be punished,
"Did 1 fctfow any thing of how the eld man
was killed?'? 'I ' . :
- I assured him, no; I w in bed, and did
not hear of it till morning. I did not even
see my father go to the house, only I was
told to get in and leave the window nndnnp,
which I did. " "But if I am asked again," I
s id, "I must tell the truth."
"I will endeavor," Said hp, "lo spare you
thati" and he kept his word. My evidence
wns not called for; the goo.ls wore found
upon an accomplice, who turned king's evi
dence ; it was Robert's father.
I pass over the honor of hearing my father
condemned, and the little joy I felt at my
own release. .Turned out of the gaol, 1 walk
ed straight home; I haled the noise of the
streets; every one, I thought, stared at and
hunted me. I longed to return to that quiet
cell whre I had learned nnd felt so much-
it appeared a blessed place. I hated liberty)
I feared the faces of my acquaintances; Dut
1 longed to see my mother and sister : I
opened the door and walked in. Alas! what
a scene awaited me ! 1 shut the door hastily
as one afraid ; as if the very Btdlies of the
street would rise up against me. I went up
at once to my mother's bedroom, for I could
see nobody below. The sound of my foot
steps brought my sister to the landing ; she
held tip her finger as a sign of silence, and
beckoned me towards her. When I came
up, we fell into each other's arms, and I be
lieve that silent embrace did mru to endear
us to each other than ' a" the years of our
childhood.. Alaa! we were alone In the
world ! Poor Clara had no thought of reli
gion ; my impressions were young, and al
though fixed, yet not strong. She took my
hand and led my into me mother's room
never shall I forget the feeling. I had been
prepared to find her unhappy, ill, in tears;
bull had expecteJ tokiss her, to comfort herf
to tell hei my feelings, and to hear her ap
plaud my new resolutions. ' My hopes of fu
ture happiness all rested upon her. I had
formed a thousand plans of working for her,
nnd teaching her all that I felt. She was so
mild and placid, I was sure she would listen
to mei and w" should do so many thingsto
gether. And then I loved her so intensely,
it was her kind voice which stood between
me and my father's anger; I had seen her
take even Mows for me. When, therefore, I
entered her room, it was in the hope and
with the purpose of laying the whole burden
of my soul before her.
Coneftufcd veti.
THE Ol TWITTED HI SB AND.
" A few months since, a fun-loving friend ie-
lated to us, says a New York paper, the fol
lowing amusing story, which we have never
seen in print. Last spring two steam-boat
agents, in Buffalo, occupied a double bouse,
and their families were on very intimate
terms. ' One morning when they were all to."
gelher, their wive ask d them for a little
spending money,' which they proyomngiy,
yet good naturedly, wiitihelil J ne women
resolved ta accomplish iheir object, and; threat
ened, id the event of a continued refusal, to
ell pnper. nyjs, and ,tbu buy what.they de.
airad.' The husband's sneered, and told them
to do ao ir they dared. Soon after the men
want not tpaHeruf lo husioes. and 'he women
warn loft to mature tbeit plans Mr. GVl bad
Hlmoat . .foremen.,, the, .mwrning's threat,
when while oating , n dinner, , he . was
retnin ded. of it by .overhearing' , his wife
dircoiinaa sofvaal. to wait untjl he gentle
men returned to their offices, and then go to
closet in oertajii room, get the bags be
WinttB'Wr5.: W.,'fna arVy tfcWn aspri.
vately as possible to Hay wood's store, sell the
ateljrl All this amused Mr. O. exceedingly.
He managed to gain the ear of his crony W.,
and informing him of what he naa neara' 1
suggested the propriety of appropriating the
rags, and drinking their wives' healths from
the avails of the plunder. The latter appro
ved the plan; and they instantly entered upon
its accomplishment. . Stealthly approaching
the important closet, each of the gents seixed
a bag, and slipping quickly out of the back
door, by dodging around out-houses and
skulking along fances, they succeeded in
reaching the store unperceived.. They then
repaired to the Jber Store, where they dis
posed of their contents, ohe receiving fifty
six and tho other sixty-nine cents. In fine
glee; at the success of tKeir undertaking, the
hopeful husbands then resoried to the Man
sion Mouse, and proceeded to spend the avails
of the rags for sundry " creature comforts."
All Went on merrily, nnd the fund was almost
exhausted, when, as they were leaning back
in their chairs, sipping each a glass of good
wine indulging in jokes and refreshments at
the expense of their wives an acquaintance
came in, and addressing the clerk, said
' Sam, have you heard what a fine haul Hay
wood made this afternoon ?" " No," repied
the clerk, "what was it?" "Why," said
the former speaker, " he bought two bags of
paper rags, and paid about ten shillings for
them, and when he opened them what do
you suppose he found ? Two new diess coatsi
worth forty dollars apiece, four good satin
vests, and half a dozen pair of broad-cloth
pants, and lots of other first rate clothing,
wnith at least one hundred and fifty dollars.
His boy don't remember of whom he bought
them. Pretty good afternoon's trade, isn't
it?" And off he went. In the meantime
Ihe husbands had been far from inattoefrive
listeners. Dropping his glass, and starting to
his feet, one of them exclaimed lo his equally
agitated accomplice " By Hevens! the wo
men have made us sell our best clolhes !
D-m it, what a pretty fix we are in." How
the clothes were returned, we know not, but
we have heard that the husband's expressed
a lively anxiety that the affair might be for
gotten, and the wives soon after appeared in
new bonnets and shawls, and have never
since asked in vain for spending money.
THE POST BOVS SONG.
The night is dark and the way is long
And the clouds are flying fast,
The night wind sings a dreary song,
And the trees creak in the blast :
Tho moon is down in the tossing sea
And the stars shed not a ray,
The lightning flashes frightfully,
But I must on my way.
Full many a hundred time have I
Gone o'er in the dark,
Till my faithful steeds can well descry
Each long familiar mark ;
Withal should peril come to-night
God have us in his care !
For without help and without light,
The beldest well beware.
Like a shuttle thrown by the hand of fate,
Forwark and back I go,
Bearing a thread Iie desolate
To darken their'web of woe
And a brighter thread the glad of heart,
And a mingld one to all,
But the dark and tho light 1 cannot part
Nor alter their hues at all.
On, on my steeds f the lightning's flash
An instant gilds onr way.
But steady ! by that fearful crash
The heavens seemed rent away.
Soho! now comes the blast anew,
And a pelting flood of rain ;'
Steady J a sea seems bursting through.
A rift in some upper main.
'Tisa terrible night a dreary hour.
Yet who will remember to pray,
That the care of the storm controlling
power
May be over the Post-boy's way ?
The wayward wanderer from his home,
The sailor upon the sen,
Have prayers to bless thorn : whore they
, roam, ...
Who thinketh to pray for me ?
But the storm abates uprides the moon
Like a ship upon the sea ;
Now on my steeds! this glorious' moon
Of a night so dark shall be
A scene for us. Toss high your heads,'
And cheerily speed away,' .
We shall startle sleepers in their beds
Before the dawn of day.
Like a shuttle thrown by the hand of fate
Forward nnd back I r,
Bearing a thread to the desolate
To darken their web of woe ;
And brighter thread to the glad of heart
And a mingled one for all ;
. But the dark and the light I cannot part
. Nor alter their hues at all. ..
7 In some Parish Chnrche it is the cus
tom to separate the men irom tne w4tnon
A clergyman, being interrupted by loua im
ing, slopped short w hen a woman, eager for
the honor of her aex, arose and aaid, " Your
reverence, tbe noise Is not among u." " eo
much the belter," answered the priest, " it
will be the sooner over."
ExFOBTATtoM or English Felons to
this Coott. -According to tho London
Time,, an association in England, of which
Lord Ashley is the President,, are busily aj
work weeding English society of the thieves,
felons, pickpockets and reprobates of alt de
scriptroris,'and sendtrtgl therh' 6ut to this coon.
try, . The Time denounces this expedient a
an "intolerable injury cnjuatifiably Inflicted
FARMtR .! AND MaVMt ION KB.' ''
Widower Smith't sragon stopped one morn
ing before Widow 5f0' doer( and he gave
the usual country signal that he wanted to see
somebody in tbe KoUsoj by dropping the reins
and setting double, with bit elbows on his
knees. Out tripped the widow, merry as i
cricket, with a tremendous black ribbon bit
her snow white cap. ' Good morning was spo
ken on both sides, and the Vidow Waited for
what further was to.be said.
" Well, Ma'am Jones, perhaps you ddn'tj
want to sell ohe of your cows, no howj nor no
thing any wnyj do ybuf" ' : ..
"Well, there, Mr.Smith, yba couldn't hav
spoken my mind belter. A poor lone woman
like me dosen't know what to do with so'
many creatures, and 1 should be glad to trade
if we can fix it ?'' '.
So they adjourned to1 the Meadow. Far
mer Smith looked at Roan then at the)
widow ; at ftrindle then at the widow ; at
the DciWning cow then at tbe widow again
and through the whole foity. The same call
was mado every day for a week; but Farmer
Smith could not decide which cow he wanted-
At length bu Saturday, when Widow Jones
was in a hurry to get through with her baking
for Sunday, and had " ever so much" to do
in the house, asall farmers wives and widowrs
have on Saturday, she was a little impatient
Farmer Smith was as irresolute as ever.
" That 'ere Downing cow is a pretty fair
crcatur" but he stopped to glance at tho
widow's face, and the walked around her
not the widow but tho cow.
"That 'ere short horn Durham is not a bad
looking beast, but I don't know" another
look at the widow.
"The Downing cow I knew before the late
Mr. Jones bought her." Here ha sighed at
allusion to the late Mr. Jones; she sighed,
and both looked at each other.' It was a
highly interesting moment.
"Old Roan is an old milch, and so is Briu-
die but I had known belter." ' A long stare
followed this speech, and the pause was get
ting awkward, and at last Mrs. Jones broke
out
" Lord, Mr. Smith, if I'm tho one you
want do say so."
The intention Of Widower Smith and tho
Widow Jones were duly published the next
day, as is the law and customs in Massachu
setts ; and as they were " out published they
were marrited." U. Hasting Weld. ,
THE DEAD-LETTUR OFaMCat.
The story of Allele Barron, published in a'
recent number ot tne Annktrmxnr, whicn
turns upon some missing letter), has brought
to mind an incident related by frank Gran
ger as having' occurred when hs wm at the)
head of the post-office department. A letter
was one day recieved from the poatmaator of
a town in New Jersey, enclosirur letter very
old and dingy, and covered with fly pocs in
every part, except where a tap) bad passed
over it, indicating that it had been for m long
time placed in tbe paper or card-rac oleoma
bar-room or shop. The superscription, if there
had been any, had entirely faded awey. The
postmaster wrota that be had found it in his
letter-box, and had tried in vain lo discover
who had deposited it there, iu vrder that it
might receive a propor direction, aa it appa
rently contained money. As it bad not been
advertised, it was not, in strictness, dead-
letter ; but he sent it to tbe department in
order that they might dispose of it. Tho
Postmasler-Geueral took the responsibility of
opening it and found that it was dated at Phi
ladelphia in the year 1821, (twenty .years be
fore) and enclosed a twenty-dollar bill of the
United States Bank. It was addressed by a
man to his wife, at a village not far from the'
post-office where the letter was found inform
ing her that ho (the writer) should start for
come in two or three days; but that, as his
brother was about to leave for home, he took
advantage of tbe opportunity to scud her by
him the enclosed sum of money where witn
to make preparationafor an approaching wed
ding . . ... ...
The Postmaster-General caused a letter to
be written to the address of the writer, in
forming him of the circumstances. ( In the
course of a week, i reply was received from
a female, who stated that the writer of the
lettet was her father, and the she to frhom it
w as addressed, was her mother, both of whom
were dead that, twenty years before, on tho
eve of her own wedding, she remembered
that her fathei and uncle had quarrelled, the
former having been led, from suspicious cir
cumstances, to discredit the latter assertion
lhat he had lost a letter containing money en-,
trusted to his care, and to insinuate that h
had appropriated the amount to bis own use
The consequence was, that all intercourse be
tween the families had from that time been
suspended, and that she should immediately
write to her uncle and cousins, who were stilj
living at a distance, to beg that the inter-s
course and friendship to long interrupted
might be resumed :' the) discovery of this
letter having satisfied her of what she bad
long suspected, that her father was wrong, and
lieved , her mind from a weight of painful
anxiety." '.'.''.'" 'i
Whether any faith r clua to thv manner
in which the letter had arrived at the offios)
at so late a period was aver ascertained, is'
not known ; the probability is, that tba tettaf
had been picked up at or near soma country
tavern on te road, and was placed, with1 (hex
variety of business cards and miscellaneous
papers which usually fijl th a tapes' otst the'
rnantel-piede of such a place, and' tber ii.
had remained from year to year, perhaps (ion,
oealsd from ootic by other papers and Jet-
tare, pntil, on ft change oi iandiordi, vn
improvement of the nouae ibo lan
aiora mot
disposed of it by depositing, it in tho najlr!f
tawfnf IMa.iv, e 9 MABE
H-lwey, Af.il t(
f . I ..t4 tf-i Ik.n , mT mw tluauahta.
oonWaata, and Msf ftMk it immj imaMtu
and then was taken away
wanted
od tbaUw tod " .
eiM. im a) iiwin we ai w "