W. BLAIR.
- VOLUME 24.
~, e itti Vottrg.
ENG TSB BELL SOFTLY.
Some one has gone from this strange world
of ours, •
No more to gather its thorns with its ilow-
No more to linger where sunbeams must
fade,
Where on all beauty death's fingers are
laid ;
Weary with mingling life's bitter and sweet
Weary with parting, and never to meet,
Sorim one has gone to the bright, golden
shore
Ring the bell 'softly, there's crape on the
door.
Angels were anxiously longing to meet
One who walks with them in Heaven's
bright street;
Loved ones have whispered that some one
is blest,
Free from earth's trials and taking swee
• st—
Yes! there is one more in angelic bliss,
One less to cherish and one less to kiss;
One more departed to Heaven's bright
Ring the bell softly, there's crape on
door.
, some one is resting from sorrow and sin—
Happy where earth's conflicts enter not in
Joyous as birds when the morning is bright,
When the sweet sunbeams have brought.
us their light,
Weary with'sowing and'never to reap, ,
' eary_wi . or, an. we coming s eep,
Some one's departed to Heaven's glad
ilUtolls ca
ALICE CAREY.
After this sweet singer passed away,
newspapers gossips, as they will sometimes,
took up certain old and half-forgotten sto
ries, iu which her name was connected,
with that of a person once well known in
literary circles, and rehearsed them in the
public ear. From what we know of the
maiu himself, we never believed it possible
for a ‘toinan like Alice Cary to have any
feeling toward him higher than grad:tale
for service rendered ; and we always felt
something of pain and repulsion whenev
er we heard their names associated.
It was, therefore, with a feeling of deep
stttisfietion that we read, in the Indepen
dent, from the pen of Mrs. Mary Clem
suer Ames, the true awry of her love and
life. Here it is :
"If a public career comes to a woman
ly woman, the secret almost always lies
ia the story of her heart. Alice Cary wa,
born a singer. 'Whitter'a words of her are
tenderly true :
"Foredoomed to song she seemed to me;
I querried not with destiny ,
I knew the trial and the need,
Yet all the more I said, God speed !"
, "Had she been a happy wife and moth
er, her song would not have been less,but
gladder. But it was not the "facility di
vine," it was the inexorable facts of fate
that made her a writer by profession.—
Had she married the man whom she lov
ed, she would never have come to New
York at all, to coin the rare gifts of her
brain and soul into money for shelter
and bread. Pambe Cary, in her. touch
ing sketch of her sister, Alice, written last
spring, sags of her: "If in her mortal life
a ie ever felt any deeper or holier affection
than that fbr her kindred, except in dreams
, of poesy, she rolled the
s stOne over the
youth of its dead sepulcher, and sealed,
it with everlasting silence. Among the
things hallowed by her use there was not
left a single relic which could reveal such
a secret. And so, knowing there was one
chamber in her heart kept by her always
as a safe and sacred sanctuary mine is
surely not the hand to lift from it now the
solemn and eternal curtain of the past."
"Yet; no less because of these words
sacrilegious hands have rudely attempted
to lift it. The sanctuary of that pure heart
is ruthlessly invaded even in the grave.—
A story under the title of the "Unknown
Love of Alice Cary," in the ne.spapers,
is still gaveling through the length of the
land. It asserts that in her youth•she was
affianced to Rufus IV. Griswold ; that
he was false to her.—forsaking her for a
woman of the world; that, long after,
when. he returned to New York friendless
poor, and sick, she forgave him the great
wrong that he had done, and nursed him
till he died. This story, in many conflict
ing phases, was often, to her great annoy
ance, told of her during her life. The fact
that Rufus W. Griswold did in his last
will bequeath to her his personal effects
was made much of in print and in private
circles, and used as an unanswerable proof
that at one time he had been her lover.—
Within a week I have read in a letter in
the New York•Esening Post that the will
proved the love and relationship between
the two persons beyond a doubt. Yet
no less, iu its foundations; the story is
false. Referring to it ones, while we two
sit alone together,Mice said to me: I will
tell you just the truth. If you ever think
it necessary, you can tell it." I believe
it to be ,but justice to her sacred life, with
which idle gossip is yet too busy, to tell it
now.
"Bereavement in death and in life had
made her Western .home too desolate to
be borne. These, with the impulse of the
brave will that served her to the la s t,
brought her to New Yorkto make not the
life that she would have chosen for her
self; yet a. life worthy to be lived. "Ig
norance stood mob the stead of courage,"
•
A TAMMY NEWSPAPER-t-DEVOTED TO, LITERATURE, LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWS. ETC.
she said. "Had I known the great world
as I have learned it since, I should not.
have dared ; kit I didn't. Thus I came."
The leading literateur at that time was
Dr. Rufus W. Griswold. He had com
piled the books called "The Female Prose
Writers and The Female Post of Ameri
ca." - Ile -was pharply on thelookout for
every-hew genius in literature that • ap
peared. He had visited the sisters in their
Ohio home, and in 1850 obtained a pub
lisher for their volume, and had added
both their names with selections from their
poems to his own "Poets of. AmerLa."—
He knew everything necessary to their
success in the sphere of labor which they.
cho.e, while they practically knew mins
to-nothing—He_encouraged_and_ helped
them in many ways, and thus command
ed their gratitude.
"For Alice_to incur_a_debt_of_gratitutle
was to pay it, if at the cost of her life.—
Yet even the good will of one type of
man to woman is often a misfortune.
Her soul may be white as snow, yet he
cannot take her innocent name upon his
lips without smirching it with somewhat
•f-his_own vilem ss. His vanity has been
flattered by idle women, ti coniT7=s
become not only the habit, but the twee*
situ, of his morbid and miserable soul;
till, where he knows he has not won it, he
ye is base enough - to beast - of it. Such a
man (judging by every record left of him)_
"was Rufus W. Griswold.
He was a man of poetic teznperment
of fine scholarship, of generous . impulses,
and, in certain directions, of_ rare gifts,_
yet
yet no less he was a man of fickle fancies,
of violent temper which often fell upon
his nearest and dearest friends of mons
trous-vanity, and-of-ungoveriled..passions._
"I never was engaged to him in marriage;
I never loved him," said Alice Cary to
T enuld not have loved such a man
I learned him in his best phases.
Fiiine to pity him because he wu.s
n_w_
owmt_eaemy:Asa_friend_l_mvel
him much, and before his death I . found
it in my power to pay back in part my
arge cel o gra iul e. ' en ere urn
to New York; - poor and-sick;-with-certam
death before him, I, with Miss , hir
ed a room and nurse for him. From
that they have made the romantic story
of my nursing him for unrequited love.—
It was old Betsey who nursed him. You
know how big and strong she is; yet e
ven she became worn out, for his sick
ness was long and very painful. Many
unkind, even cruel things have been said,
because he willed tome his personal ef
fects. Besides• the books and picture , :
which he bequeathed to the Historical
Society, they are all that he posessed, and
he kit them to me, not more out of per
sonal regard than from a desire to repay
as far as he was able the money which I
had expended for his comfort during his
lass lung sickness."
"In the profoundest sense Alice Cary
never loved but once. The man whom
...he loved is still alive, gossip, with its
keenest scent, has never found or named
him. With all her fulness of affection.
hers was an electric and solitary soul.—
He who by the very patent of his being,
was more to her than any other mortal
could be, might pass from her life, but no
other could ever take his place. A proud
and prosperous family brought all their
pride and power to bear on a son to pre
vent his marrying a girl uneducated, rus
tic and' poor. "I waited for one who
never came back she said. Yet I believed
he would come till X read in a paper his
marriage to another. Can you think what
Ha would be-loving one, waiting for one
who would never come ?
"He did come at last. I saw him.—
His wife had' di xi. Alice was dyinc , .—
Tne gray haired man sat down b side
the gray-haired woman. Life had dealt
prosperonly with him, as' its wont with
men.. Suffering and death had taken all
from her save the lustre of her wondrous
eyes. From her wan and wasted face
they shone upon him full of tenderness
•and youth. Thus they met with life be
hind them—they who parted plighted lov
ers when life was young. He was the
man whom she forgave for her blighted
and weary life with- a smile of parting as
ever lit the face of woman,"
The Sealed Fountain.
There has been much distress this Sum
mer in many places from wells and
brooks going dry, People have learned
what a thing to be grateful for is even
the common blessing of water.
John Foster compares our life to a
sealed up reservoir containing a certain
amount of water. How much is in it, we
have no means of knowing. We must
keep constantly using it, and there is no
means of replenishing the supply. Eve
ry day the amount deminishes, and soon
it will be gone.
What a solemn thought it is that eve
ry night we are twelve hours nearer eter
nity than we were in the morning I How
can we put off gettingleady for it? How
can we alloW such trifles as occupy us eve
ry day to draw our minds off wholly from
this great concern? What comfort will
it be to us, when the last hour comes, to
remember that we were clad in the finest
and most fashiottable raiment; and that
we fared suwptously every day, or even
that we were most diligent and Etudious
in oui daily tasks, and took a high stand.
lug arnoL,g our mates, when there lay our
Bible all unread, its teachings unregard
ed ?
Remember this sealed reservoir, and
how fast you are using up its precious
contents. Some of these hold very little
more. How will it be with you when
you have quaffed the last cup ? . Will
you then be sure of a welcome where the
blessed "river of the water of life" is flow
ing forever.
If four quarters make a yard, how
many will make a garden ?
WA.YNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., TItURSDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1872.
SEEING THE POINT.
A boy returned from school one day
with a report that Ilia scholarship had
fallen below the usual average.
"Well said the father, "You've fallen
behind this month, have you 2"
"Yes, sir."
- --"Howrdid - lhat -- -happdnr
•
"Don't know, air."
The father knew, if the eon did not.—
He had observed a number of dime nov
els scattered about the house; but had
not thought it worth while to say any
thing until fitting opportunity should of
fer itself: A basket of apples stood up
on the floor. And he said:—
"Empty out those apples, and take
the basket and bring it to nme Calf full
of chips."
Suspecting nothing, the son obeyed._
"End now - ," he continued," pat thoie
apples back into the basket."
When half the apples were replaced,
the sun said:—
"Father, they roll off. I can't put
in any more."
"Put them in, I tell you."
-
' "Put thetn in ! No, of course you
can't put them in. Do you expect to fill
a basket half full of chips and then fill
-it—with—apples ? You_said—you—didn!
know why yuu fell behind at school, and
Till tell - you. Your mind is - like — that
basket. It will not hold more than so
much.- And here you've been this month
filling_it up with chip dirt—dime nov
-1 clic
The boy turned on his heel, 'whistled
and said, "Whew' 1 I see the point."
Not a dime novel has been seen in the
house lrottrt :t-•ay-smee,
Other and older persons might well see
the same point. A mind filled with fic-
ion hatee and rejects truth. • person
ending-historyoart,--science,or---travels,
may !row - wiser - ever • -da•-•-but-a—man
might read fiction a hurls re. yea s, an.
ktiow no more when he finishes than when
. - •
--There_is_real_sin,And sorrow, and_ suf
fering enough in the world for us to pity
and relieve, without wasting our tear& o
ver the troubles of some fictions "Matilda
Jane ;"—and there is work,• and enter
prise, and adventure enough in real life
to engage our powers without resorting
to cheap novels for inspiration and el
citement. But unfortunately the girls
who will shed
,as many tears over some
heroine's fictions sorrow as they would
while peeling a pan full of onions, are
the very persons who would turn up their
noses at a suffering beggar, and leave a
sick person to starve unvisited in a gar
ret. And the boys who wax heroic over
the great doings of some count, hero, or
cut-throat, are too lazy to make an hon
est living, and are willing to have their
mothers wait on them and black their
boots while they lie in bed after sunrise,
or smoke cigars, and swear, to prove that
they are men !
Don't fill your apple basket with chip
dirt. •
A THOUSAND MILES,
Sitting quietly at my desk this calm
evening, the wind hushed• outside, and
the sound of conversation unheard in the
house, how can I believe that in spite of
all this silence lam not at rest ? Is it
true, as I have been told it is, that while
I sit in my arm chair, 1 am at the same
time traveling more swiftly than th e
swiftest bird can fly ? If SO then in
what carriage am I drawn and where is
the steed which draws it? You and I.ire
traveling more rapidly than the swiftest
antilope can run. The world itself is our
carriage, and tha Power which drives it is
force which the Supreme Being who made
the world and us, has brought to bear up
on it.
• Look at the sun in the early morning.
It is seen in the eastern sky, just rising o
ver the hills or the tree-tops. Higher
and higher it climbs until noon; and then
lower and lower it sinks, until it goes out
of sight beyond the western hills. Men
once thought that the sun did thus travel
every day from east to west. We are not
to trust the appearance; it tells us false.—
It is not the motion of the sun over our
heads, it is the motion of the earth itself,
which snakes the sun appear to rise in the
east. Every day the earth turns around
carries us and all its burdens of hills and
forests and rocks and seas with it. digit
as, riding swiftly in a railroad carriage, we
sometimes for a moment think the trees
and houses, rocks and fences to be hurry
him past us in the opposite direction; so
the world carrying us swiftly onward
from west to east , has made it appear
th tt the sun and moon and, stars were
traveling from east to west.
But who can tell how fast the earth is
turning on its axis? Why any boy or
girl who has studied arithmatic can tell.
lour the earth is 25,000 mile in circum
ference and turns once round in exactly
twenty four hours. Now, divide 25,000
by 24, one hour, and I. ad it to be a lit
tle more than one thouand. So while
you and I are sitting by our evening
lamps, quietly reading or writing, we are
being . whirled along our journey, never
stopping, and at the rate of more than a
thousand miles an hour.
SOHO HON GOMIS.
Many thousand stars are burning,
Brightly in the vault of night I
Many an earth-worn heart is yearning
Upward with a fond delight.
Stars of beauty, stars of glory,
Radiant wanderers of the sky 1
Weary of the world's sad story,
Ever would we gaze on high,
What garment is too light to be either
modest or useful ? The shift of the wind.
A Man With Nerves of Steel.
Young Donaldson, the dearing teronaut,
who made a balloon ascension at Reading,
Pa., on the 30th of August last, and per
formed a series ottrapeze feats when' a
mile or more from the earth, repeated his
thrilling performance in Norfolk on Mon
day last. _There_ was mo_basket_to_the bal
loon,- but its - place was supplied by a trap
eze similiar to those used by circus per
formers, and above the trapeze was placed
a hoop, secured to which was a suit of
heavy clothing to be used by the aerial
voyager when he encountered the cold cur
rents. The Norfolk Journal, in describ
ing the ascension, says that when the bal
loon was released from its moorings and
reached a great altitude ,Donaldson sud
denly. and
ienly, and apparently with little effort,
'threw himself into a sitting posture on the
bar, kissing his hand to the crowd below:
Suddenly, 'pretending to lose his balance,
he fell backwards, sliding head down
ward until he caught by his toes on the
side ropes that suspended the trapeze bar.
In this perlious position he swung to
and fro for several seconds—a time which
seemed an age to the - awe-stricken crowd
e ow. was curious o o -erve e vary
ing emotions of the crowd—as varying as
the positions of each individual. Some
were filled with admiration of the courage
- of - the-daring - man — and—kept—their-*yes
riveted on him. Others, shuddering with
horror, turned away with pallid face and
beating hearts and covering their eyes
with their hands to shut out the dreadful
sight. Faint shrieks were heard from the
ladiw, and some turned to leave the spot,
but true to the characteristic of their sex
—curiosity—concluded to take one more
look, and looking once looked again—
-Throwing-hilm3elf-birek-hritis-seat owe
bar, the mronaut sat astride the same.—
Then be. : an a series of _ • mnastic evolu-
tons—' a ancmg himself on his ac
b,l ;
side ropes,_u_pward grandly and stead
ily rose the balloon, cleaving the air like
a mighty bird. At length it looked like
a mere spec. in he clou •s.
Opera glasses and telescopes-were brought
into requisition, and by their aid Donald
son could be seen still performing his
gymnastic feats. After rising to a tre
mendious height the balloon hung for
few moments seemingly suspended in mid
air, and then sailed off in a southeastern
direction. When the balloon was a mere
speck in the distance, invisible to the na
ked eye and almost through the.powerful
telescopes, the man with nerves of steel
and the heart of a lion repeated his dar
ing trapeze feat of hanging head down
ward, suspended by his toes. Such a scene
was never before witnessed in Norfolk,and
seldom anywhere in the world. The dis
cription of such a scene reads like a ro
mance, but the reality far surpasses the
most vivid powers of "word painting,"and
we desist from the vain efforts to depict
it.
When the mrial ship had reached an al
titude of about half a mile, and struck
the colder current of air, the mronaut was
observed to climb up to the hoop and get
his suit of thick clothes. Descending to
the bar, he dressed himself, and then re
sumed the gymnastic display—exercising
himself to keep warm. Those who were
fortunate to have telescpes saw the bal
loon gradually descending. , Occasionally
the mronaut would throw down a bag of
sand to enable the balloon to rise—the
country probably not being suited for a
descent. Late in the evening it was ru
mored that Donaldson had descended safe
ly near Kempsville, in Princess Anne Co.
How TO BECOME A. MILLIONAIRE.-
John McDonough, the millionaire of
New Orleans, has engraved upon, his
tomb a series of maxims he has prescribed
through life, and to which his success in
business is mainly attributed. They con
tain so much wisdom that we copy them.:
Rules for the guidance of my life,
1804.
Remember always that labor is one of
the conditions of existence.
Time is gold: throw not one minute a
way, but place each one to account.
unto all men as you would be done
by.
Never put off till to-morrow what you
can do to-day.
Never bid another do what you can 'do
yourself.
Never covet what is not your own.
Never think any matter so trifling as
not to deserve notice.
.-I'ffsver - give—out that which does not
first come in.
Never spend but to produce.
Let the greatest order regulate the
transaction of your life.
Study, in your course of life, to do the
greatest amount of good.
Deprive yourself of nothing necessary
to your comfort, but live in an honorable
simplicity.
Labor to the last moment of your ex
istence.
Pursue strictly the above rules, and
the divine blessing and riches of every
kind will flow upon you to your hearts
content.
First of all remember that the chief and
great duty of your life should be to tend
by all means in your power, to the hon
or and glory of our Divine Creator.
The conclusion to which I have aril
ved is, that without temperance there is
no health ; without virtue, no order,
without religion, no happiness ; and that
the aim of our being is to live righteous
ly, wisely, and soberly.
JOHN MCDONOUGH.
New Orleans, lifarcli'9, 1804.
It is better to be proud of , your . pride
than vain of your vanity.
Never get trusted bemuse you think a
better time for payment will come. Pay
as you go.
AN ANGEL. BY THE DEVI.
BY PANAY FALSE.
They tell me unseen spirits
Around about us glide; •
Beside the still waters
Our erring footsteps guide ;
'Tis - pleasant; thus believing •
Their ministry on earth ;
I know an angel sitteth
This moment by my hearth
If false lights on life's waters,
To wreck my soul appear,
With finger upward pointing
She turns me with a tear :
'Twere base to slight the warning,
And-count-it-little worth.—
Of her, the loving angel,
That sitteth on my hearth. •
A few weeks since, while on a visit to a
grammer school of West Chester, recita
tion in history claimed the attention of a
class. The lesson was a review of a num
ber of the leading historical events - of - the -
Western Continent. The young lady who
conducted the exercise, at its conclusion,
She wins me with caresses gave an opportunity. for auy questions,
From passion's dark defiles; but as the time for recess had come, after
She guides me when I falter, the pupils had withdrawn, I wrote on the
And strengthens me with smiles; black-board the following exercise : "Men-
It may be, unseen angels tion seven historical events that may be
Beside me journey forth, considered Eras in American history—
I know that one is sitting giving the date of each in chronological
This moment by my hearth. order."
A loving wife, Oh brothers
An angel heard below ;
• lasiyour_ey_es are holden
Too often 'till they go;
Ye upward look while grieving,
When they have passed from earth
Oh ! cherish well those sitting
This moment by the hearth.
Ten Hard Dollars.
Those people who are interested in
anLmone will serha sbe s rated by
reading the following story from the
Chirstian Weekly, by Dr. Spaulding:
"Mi. father was a oor man. A. large
an , growing am y was . epen• eat upon
him iorits daily—breaduning—home
one wintiy_ev_eamgfrorn — a - weeks - will n-a
neighboring town with ten hard-earned
dollars in his pocket, he lost them in a
light the
111. snow. Long 134 rui 3 was .AIT!
-search for-them. .After the .snow was
gone, again and again was the search re
newed, with the same result. The snow
fell and melted again for a whole genera
tion, and the story of the lost dollars was
still fresh in our family circle ; for a sil
ver dollar to-a poor nmu in
was larger thatca full moon.
"About a mile away lived another fa
ther of a family in similareircumstances.
He, too, knew how much a dollar cost
dug out of rocky farm. At least once or
oftener, eve.iy week for forty years he had
occasion to pass our door, giving and re.
ceiving the common neighborly
.saluta
tions, and every time with a weight in
creasingly heavy on his conscience. But
all such pressure has its limit ; and when
that is reached the crash is the greater
for the severity of the strain. In this in
stance it was as when and old oak rends
its body and breaks its limbs in falling.
"One day, completely broken down, he
came to my father in tears, confessing :
found your dollars lost in the snow
forty years ago. They have
.been hard
dollars to me, and I can carry them no
longer. lam come to return them, and
ask your forgiveness, and as soon as I
can I will pay you the interest."
"The scene was like that when Jacob
and Esau met over the ford Jabbok.
"He did not live long enough to pay
the interest, but quite long enough to fur
nish a practical comment on the text :
"The spirit of a man will sustain his in
firmity, but a wounded spirit, who can
bear ?" Who will say that conscience,
though slumbering in this life, will never
awake to punish the offender in the life
to come ?"
"If any man wants hard moron, let
him get it dishonestly, and he will had it
the hardest money that he ever saw—
hard to keep, herd to think of, and hard
to answer for in the judge day.
LEARN ALL YOU CAN.—Never omit
an opportunity to learn all you can. Sir
Walter Scott said that even in a stage
coach he always found some body who
could tell him something he did not know.
Conversation is frequently more useful
than books for purposes of knowledge.—
It is, therefore, a mistake to be morose
and silent among persons whom you.
think ignorant, for a little sociability 'on
your part will draw them out, and they
will be able to teach you something, no
matter
.how ordinary their employment.
Indeed some of•the most sagatious remarks
are made by persons of this ilescrilltion,
respecting their particular pursuit. Hugh
Miller, the Scotch geologist, owe not a
little of his fame to observations made
when he was a journeyman stone mason,
and working in a quarry. Socrates well
said that there was but one good, which
is knowledge, and one evil, which is ig
morance. Every grain of sand goes to
make a heap. A. gold digger takes the
smallest nuggets, and is hot fool enough
to, throw them away,teCause he hopes to
find a huge lump sometime. So in ac
quiring knowledge we should never de
spise an opportunity, however .unpromis- •
ing. If there is a moment's leisure,spend
it over a good or instructive talk With
the first you meet.
Winowa—An exchange paper, the ed
itor of which no doubt lately "eet up"
with a widow, goes on thus : For the oth
er half of a courting match .there is noth
ing like an interresting widow. There is
as much difference between courting a
damsel and a widow. as there is between
cyphering in addition and the double
rule of three. Courting a eirl is like
eating fruit, all very nice'as far as it ex
tends, but doing the amiable to a blue
eyed bereaved one in black crape, comes
under the head of preserves—rich pun
gent, syrupy. For delicious courting,
we repeat, give u$ a live ridden,"
diurationaL
ED/TED BY D. B. M.
HISTORY IN Scaooie.—lt has been tru
ly observed by .a celebrated English mor
alist—that to remain ignorant of the lead
ing events of history is always to contin
ue in the, infancy of knowledge. It would
seem that under a conviction of the truth
of this apothegm, the Legislature of our
State wisely placed the study of History
among the common school .branches u-p
on Teacher's Certificate.
When the pupils convened again their
teacher directed the attention of the class
to the board. A question naturally arose
as-to-what-constitutes ras history_LFor
it soon became evident that a great num
ber of important events, would be presen
ted to the student of history—not only a
mounting to seven,—but even seventy
times seven I They were informed that
the leqding events of American history em=
braced either such as had, or would be
likely to have, the chief influence on those
which were to follow. This ex • lanation al-
lowed a pretty arge margin tor the eXer
cise of judgment, as to what complexion
marked the historical facts to be inquired
ints;trnd-the-lEttitude-whieh-it-alloweri,
- -jar_teth inie interestto the invest i4ation.-
At any rate, there wits such a very gen
eral spirit excited, in the • whole school,
lIIEMI
into a committee of the whole! So the
school were informed that during the rest
of the session, they would be allowed to
consult their test-books, or the historical
works in the school library for materials
from which to derive their res ective au-
swers. t was aso intimate , to t em t• at
within the last few years,events had trans
pired of great national interest and influ
ence, but which have not yet been record
ed on the pages of any historical work.
Under the above circumstances the pu
pils commenced their investigations, and
it is believed that an hour and a- half has
rarely witnessed ihe work of a school-room,
in which the scholars ware more• interested
or more closely engaged, in an exercise.—
The slates were 80011 all in requisition,and
the authorities to be consulted. In a short
time a number of full answers was exhib
ited. But the long period from the dis
covery of the Continent to the present time,
abounds with such a. mass of leading e
vents that the more considerate and the
best informed of the investigators, found
that the chief difficulty must consist in
making a selection of seven, great and chief
historical incidents. To such it became
evident that it would be easy to compile
a list of chronological facts, without ever
coming within a century of the invention of
the Telegraph, the laying of the Atlantic
Cable, or the building of the Pacific Rail
road.
If such was the difficulty of the pupils,
that of the judge of their performance was
scarcely less so. It would certainly nev
er do to ignore the events of the last qua
ter of a century,—and yet, there were e
nough prior to and during the Revolu
tionary War, to have swelled our chrono
logical table to its full compass. As the
slates were handed in, (most of them be
ing filled with the real material,) I glanc
ed over them and soon ascertained that
there were several that comprised the re
quired number with the proposed condi
tions all included,but scarcely two of them
were alike in every respect. Very Boon,
perceiving that deciding on the respective
merits of the answers would b 3 an endless
task, the teacher suggested that her pu
pils might wend a part of the afternoon
in wrighting them out on paper, and, as
I did not leave the place until the next
day,the several exercises, some 25 in num
ber, were copied and handed to me during
the evening.
It will be seen that by confining the Eras
of American history to the number o f
seven, a very limited view must be taken
of the histo I I=l events that have trans
pired, connected with this Continent since
the voyage of Columbus. It is • believed
that the students of history will find a
very profitable exercise in constructing a
chronological table V the leading events
of this Continent. It might well be extend
ed to ton or even one hundred times the
number named—a,nd'such a hand-book of
chronology, taken in connection with the
exercise of searching for the incidents and
reasoning upon them, in regard to their
dependence on, or relation to each other
—especially if they were traced in con
nection with an atlas—would go far in lin
parting•an interest in historical reSearch
es,—While it would create an enthusiasm
for both Chronology and Geography,
vrhich the separate technical pursuit of
these &portant branches of study could
never confer.—Pa. School Journal.
sarA woman at Westfield; Mass., con
tributed to the growth of the town, last
week, by giving birth to two eons and two
daughters.
Dr. Hall has writen a long article to
prove that it is unhealthy for man and
wife to occupy the same room, but we
know of some wives whowould make it
unhealthy for their husband to sleep any
*hero else.
$2,00 PER YEA,
ktooniN43lll
Yl3 it and al, nt or.
'What can a man have in
_his pocket
when it is empty ?—A big hole:
litaps of ladies have got their mouths
puckered up because this is leap year.
• A _Wayne.boro!_lady SliyiLthe_latZ
thing out is--her husband.
A young lady recently betrothed says
that "C. 0. theans, "Call on Dad."
A Troy girl says she had rather have her
corsets tight than her 'fellow.
Ram—an animal whose butt is on th
wrong en
. ....--..,
Nebra ka, has an edit4*la2y that he ,
spells wire, yf. --/
If seven days will make one week, how
many, will make one strong?
Simpkins says it is the priviledge 'of
hoops to surround the lovoliest of all things
amon_ which are
_iris and whibky.
mi...
"Our children will have immense tax
on their hands," mid a gentleman. "0,
horrible !" exclaimed an elderly lady,
"what a blessing we have nails ott-cars---
A Revenue assessor in .Ohio, asking
the usual questions enquired: "Did l your
wife have any income last year ?" "Yea
sir replied the assessed; "both girls.
A reporter who obtained entrance to
a studio of a noted young lady sculptor
states-thEtt-shc-wor-kethwithlherarrnscbwre -
to the shoulders, and her ankles likewise.
Goodness gracious.
It is said thatif
ou take two letters
fApney, tb9rg orni, ..e Gpwi
tve heard of a man w o oo mon
„ey from two letters, and _there wasn't any
A chap who was told by a clergyman
to "remember lot's wife'," replied that be
had trouble enough with his own, without
remembering other men's wives.
says Sam Slick, "he paints his name ovor
the door, and calls it a tavern, and makes
the whole neighborhood. as init . as him
self."
"John" said a master to his apprentice
as he was about starting on ajourney,
"you must occupy my place While I am
absent." "Thank you, sir," replied John
I'd rather sleep with the boys. •
An lowa husband, a few, menthe ago,
agreed to give his wife, three dollars . a
week to remain in comparative silence,
deducting one cent for every superfluous
word she uttered. She now owes him
nearly enough to pay thp national debt.
In the quaint old town •of Burlington,
New Jersey, lived colored divine, who
was known among his ebony .countrymen
by the euphonious cognomen Of."Brud
der Jacksing." Some years ago; the a
bove mentioned "brudder" was preaching
to his "deluded bredderin,". when, all of
a sudden, getting much excited, and pick
ing up the elegant nex Bible s which re
posed before him, upon that sacred alter
for the Srst Sunday, held it poised in mid
air for a moment, when down-it came like
a thunder bolt to its former 'resting place.
This was noticed instanter by one of "de
belubbed," who thinking, perlps, the
whole proceeding totally wrong, immedi
ately exclaimed in a voice loud enough to
be heard all over the room : "Brudder
Jacksing, if yer wants to try dim 'speri
ment over again why just pleaso take de
old Bible."
"IT ISN'T CAToarao-"---The. following
little story, is told atthe . ex_pens9 of a lady
school teacher, iotathousand miles from
this place, who ri'Very4r,oliefly Anxious
in regard to the prevention- small-pox in
her school, and therefotastriolly enforces
the'fule that.whenever. &Case, of:sickness
is reported in the family of,any.one oilier
pupils, the. upil mutt britig. a certificate
froth. the' family 'physician - Stating 'that
the disease is not , ' eorittigiousOfaihng in
which the pupil must iemainawak, 'until
all danger is o'er. • few days .ago she
was informelthat.one of her pupils, a lit
tle girl, of Teutonic extraetion; had sick
ness in her family. On being questioned
the little girl admitted "she had sick at
her house; that her mother was, sick.—
She was. accordingly, sent. home. The
next day she returned ~to the schoOl and
shyly siding up to the teacher, with her
finger in her mouth and her little bonnet
swinging by the strino,, she said :
we've got a. little baby at our
house, but mother told me to tell you it
isn't catch/IL
TRUE As PREACHING.—Every capital
istof a town ought to use his means in.
stimulatinf some wealth producing in
dustry. The man who iuvests his money
in an establishment that makes plows,
Threshers, mowers,, woolen goods, etc., i 3
local benefactor, There is no mistake a
bout it. All such enterprises naturally
stimulate the growth awl add to the,
wealth of the community in wbich the
are established , . Every &liar kept at
home has its adviintages, more or less, to
every citizen. The most wealthy and
prosperous cities and towns . in the world
are those that work on the co-operative
plan—that aim to build up their own.
merchants, Manufacturers,, mechanics, la
borers, &c. gvery- cent diverted ron:
home consumem lessens to a greater or
lesa.extent, the ability of . home Vlgt trt)
lACC4 their l~abilatic,,: