Newspaper Page Text
BY BLAIR. '
Forget thee ! Ask theviolet blue,
In yonder flowery bed;
If it forgets the pearly dew
That trembles on its head.
Forget thee ! ack the vesper star
That gilds the evening skies,
If, in the blazing amplitude,
It e'er forgets to rise.
Forget thee ! ask the bird of flight,
With rich and glossy wing,
It forgets' the moorland green,
Of sweet and early spring. _
Forget thee ! ask the blushing rose
That opes ita pe s ,
If it forgets the rain that throws
Its fragrant moisture there.
Forget thee ! ask the blighted heart,
Bereft of every friend,
If it forgets the holy spot
Where weeping willows bend,
Forget thee! ask the mother now,
With sad and tearful eyes,
If she forgets her cherub's brow,
So guileless in the skies.
Forget thee ! ask the harping throng
That fill the courts on high
If they forget to sing their song
Of triumph through the sky.
Forget thee ! ask the child of light,
Wreathed with undying flowers,
If he forgets the wreathiet bright,
Culled from celestial bowers.
Forget thee ! I can ne'er forget
A face so sweet as thine;
Thine image is forever set
Within this heart of naine ;
And - when 'neath other skies I be, -
And brave the ocean's foam,
Josie, my_ thoughts_willtnrn to th ee—
Too the and thy bright home.
WHAT WAS STOLEN.
About five :years ago I received infor
mation that a larceny of great magni
tude had been committed in the residence
of Mrs. Hillheigh, on Rolvat - St. My
first inquiry was, "How was the larceny
committed ?" and next, "What was stol
The last was answered by Mrs. Hill
heigh, who furnished a list of the miss
ing articles, among which was a mina
ture breastpin of peculiar make. It was
in the shape of a hand holding a small
gold fan open, and when a concealed
spring was touched the fan closed and re
vealed a minature of a gentleman: This
and a large number of valuable diamonds
were among the articles taken,
From one of the servants I learned that
about seven o'clock in the morning a mid
dle-aged woman, with kmasculine cast of
features, had called witli'a letter for Mrs.
Hillheigh, saying it was of the greatest
importance, and must be delivered by
herself to the lady, and that in private.—
This woman was shown the way to, and
was permitted to enter the room where
Mrs. flillhei,gh was sleeping. In a little
while she came down stairs, aid without
saying a word to either of the two ser
vants who were busy in the main hall,
passed hurriedly out of the front door in
to the street.
Mrs. Hillheigh did not come from her
room at the usual hotir,that morning, and
one of the servants fearing that she was
sick, went to her bedside, found her in a
profound slumber, and the same time dis
covered a small vial which had contain
ed either on the bed. A physician was
sent for, who, by the use of proper reme
dies, brought the lady to, and after that
it was discovered that •the jewelry had
When I heard this the truth of the
matter flashed through my mind in an
instant. A man disguised as a woman
had entered the house under pretext of
handing Mrs. Hillheigh a latter, had
placed her under the influence of ether
and then robbed the jewel casket, which
was found with the lid forced off.
That it had been done by some one
well acquainted with the lady and her
mode of living I had no doubt in my
own mind, and when I suggested to the
lady that it might be some friend of her
family, she laughed at the idea, for, ac
cording to her statement, her friends were
all wealthy and necessity would not
prompt them to commit such an act.
Again I. questioned the servant who
had admitted the visitor, but the only de
scription I could obtain from her vas
that the woman,was rather tall,was dress
ed in a maroon-colored dress, with over
skirt of she same color and material, and
further that she wore short curly hair,
and that there was a small scratch, ap
parently a fresh one,.on the right cheek.
It was not long before I chanced to get
"on a track of the jewelry," as we call ob-•
tained a clew, and• in a small jewelry
store kept by a Polish , Jew, who, was
known, to be a "hum" for receiving sto
len goods, we found some of. the jewelry
in a highly demoralized state, for the val
uable diamonds had been removed from
Said Sanog, the jeweler, to me in an
swer to a question, "So help me mein got
ness, I didn't was know dot dings vas
steal goods ; If I know dot, I never buys
dr'm, but I dells you dot was a mans mit
gurly hair, and ein scratch on dot right
side von deface, vat sells deSe dings."
'This corresponded in a measure with
the discription of the woman by the ser
vant girl, and now I was satisfied beyond
a doubt that my conjecture about the thief
being in disguise was correct.
I left my Polish friend, reached Emos
nas street just as I saw a man with a cur
ly head of hair and a slight scratch on his
He looked at me for a moment v and
denly threw up his right hand to his fade
in such a manner searto hide the scratch
from view. I then advanced toward him,
when he suddenly turned and crossed to
the other side of the street. "That's my
man," I said to myself, and_in_e,few_mc , -_,
ments overtook him and had him in the
The man was about thirty-seven years
of age, spoke several languages fluently,
and was evidently well educated. When
I charged him with the crime the color
forsook his face, and for a moment he was
speechless ; but when he recovered the co
urn -d-to-his cheeks. He inffi!,nant-
ly, yet in a quiet and gen eman y man
ner} denied the accusation. ]ie claimed
to be almost a stranger in the city, having
only. arrived *e day before by steamer,
and. offered to exhibit letters as recom
inendation, but I declined to see them at
"That is the old respectability dodge,"
I remarked to the brother officer who
was present : and then, turning to my
friend, said : "You run a fine chance of
being just where the dogs won't bite you
- for some time," for I felt sure that I had
the right man. •
I started for Mrs. Hillheigh's residence to
get the servant to come to the prison to
see if she could recognize in the prisoner
the person who had visited the house in
female attire ; but I had been gone but a
short time, when my attention was attrac
ted to a notorious woman of the town sea
ted at the • window of a house, and noticed
that a lace collar which she wore around•
her neck was.held together by a breast
pin, which corresponded with the descrip
-tion furnished- of-the-one-stolen.
Entering the house I made myself known,
and_asked_ ermission to examine the •in
which the woman said had been given her
as apresent by a friend. The jewel was
passed into my hand, and I was looking
for the secret spring, when the door of the
room in which «e were was unceremoni
ously open& by a man who, the moment
he saw me, attempted to retreat, but I
stopped him the instant I caught Bight of
his features, for he also had curled hair
and a slight scratch on his right cheek.—
While talking to him and examining the
jewel I touched the spring which I had
been looking for, and the little gold fan
closing exposed to view a portrait of the
husband of Mrs. ;.11illheigh.
A. brief inquiry followed, when I learn
ed enough to satisfy me this time beyond
the question of a doubt, that I had the
right party, and therefore took him into
custody, and also the woman. He made
a full confession of the larceny, and im
plicated the woman, saying that she, as
we term it, "put up the job" and he exe
My next step was to take the prisoner,
who gave the name of Charles Weliward,
and confront him with Mrs. .Hillheigh
and the servant. The moment the lady
saw him she extended her hand in a cor
dial manner, saying, "Why, my dear
nephew, how do you do? when did you
get back?" He made no reply but hung
his head as all guilty ones do when de.
tected, and I informed the lade that he
was the thief. She was loth to believe it
at first, but his own admission convinced
her of the truth of what I had said. The
matter was hushed up, and Mrs. Hillheigh
was not anxious for newspaper notoriety,
and with means which she furnished her
nephew he left the State.
Shortly after making the arrest I re
turned to the prison and caused the release
of the unfortunate young man who had
fallen under my srspicious eye. Every
thing was fully explained to him, after
which I ascertained that he was the per
son he represented himself to be, and a
mong his letters of recommendation was
one from a particular friend of mine. He
said he had come here in the hope of find
ing employment, but had not offered his
services. I apologized for the indignity
I had heaped upon him in placing him
under arrest, and told him I would do
what I could to make reparation. Through
my influence I obtained for him a situa
tion as book-keeper in Riehbox's bank,
which place he fills to the present day.
A Hindoo priest called in all the mem
bers of a large family, one of whom was
known to have committed a theft, and
thus addressed them : "Take each of you
one of these sticks, which are of an equal
length, and put them under your pillows
to-night. I do not at present know the
offender, but you must return the sticks
to me to-motrrow morning ; and the one
belonging to the thief will have grown an
inch during the night." The faintly re
tired to rest ; but bdore he went to sleep,
the man who had committed the theft,
cunningly cut off an inch from his stick,
firmly believing, by this means, to attain
the length of the others by next morning.
The sticks were returned, and, by compar
ing them, the priest was instantly able to
pitch upon the offender, to his great sur
prise and dismay.
TESTING IT n PRACTICE. party. of
gentlemen in a saloon disputing, over the
question whether the American system of
treating or the European system of not
treating, was preferable Couldn't settle the
matter by talking, so they went to work
testing it by practice. Fiist .. f.ach
took a-drink by himself. Then each man
invited a single friend to drink. After
that each single friend returned the com
pliment. And finally each man in the
party—there were six of them—asked all
the rest to drink. When that all was ac
complished, not a soul in the room could
tell where the discussion originated, or
what it was about.
A FAMILY NEWSPAPER--DEVOTED TO. 1 &TITRE, LOCAL AND GENERAL NEW S . ETC.
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., TITURSDAY, FEBRUARY 29,1872.
'Twas none of His Funeral.
A western paper tells a story of a deaf
gentleman's mistake. It seems that in the
procession that followed good Deacon Jones
to the grave last Summer, the Rev. Mr.,
Sampler, the new clergyman of East
Town, found hiniself in the same car
riage with an elderly man lie had
never before met. They rode in •grave
ence_for a few moments. when the cler-
gyman endeavored to improve the occa
sion by serious conversation.
"This is a solemn duty in which we are
engaged, my friend," he said.
"Hey? what do you say, sir?" the old
man returned. "Can't you speak loud.
er ? I'm hard of herin' I
"I was remarking," shoutedthe clergy
man, "that this is a solemn road we are
rave ing o-. ay.
"Sandy road? You don't call this 'ere
road sandy, do ye? Guess you ain't been.
down to the south deestrict. There's: a
stretch of road on the old pike that beats
all I ever see for hard travelin'." Only
a week before Deacon Jones was tuk
sick, I met film drivin' his ox team along
there, and the sand was pretty nigh up
the hubs of the wheels. The Deacon us
ed to get dreadfully-riled 'bout that pie%
of road; and East Town does go ahead of
all creation for sand."
The young clergyman looked blank at
_the_unex ected turn iziven to his remark;
but quickly recovering himself; and rais
ing his voice to the highest pitch, he re
sumed the conversation: '
"Our friend has done with all the dis
comforts of earth," he said solemnly, "A
small spot of ground will cover his sense
"Did you say clay, sir? cried the old
man eagerly. "Tain't nigh so good to cov
er sand with as medder loam. Sez Ito
Mr. Brewm last town-meetin' day, "if
yoted_cart_on n few dozenloadsL-land there's
acres of it on the river bank," sez I—`you'd
make as pretty a piece of road as there is
in 'ar or coun y. odhs
_afford county.' But we are slow foJ
in East Town,sir.
It was, perhaps, fortunate for the cler
gyman at that moment that the smell of
new made hay from a neighboring field
suggested afresh train of thought.
"Look !" said he, with a graceful.wave
of the hand ; "what an emblem of the bre
vity of human life ! "As the grass of the
field so man flourisheth, and to-morrow
he is cut down."
"I don't calculate to cut mine till next
week," said his companion. "You musn't
cut grass too 'arly ; and then, again, you
musn't cut it too late."
"My friend 1" shrieked the clergyman,
in a last desperate attempt to make him
self understood, "this is no place for vain
conversation ! We are approaching the
narrow house for all the living."
They were entering the graveyard, but
the old man stretched his neck from the
carriage window in the opposite direction.
"Do you mean 'Squire Hubbard's over
yonder ? 'Tis rather narrer. They build
all them new fangled houses that way now.
To my mind' they ain't nigh so handsome
nor so handy as the old fashioned square
ones with a broad entry runniu' clear
through to the back door. Well, this is
the gettin' out place, ain't? Much obleeg
ed to ye, parson, for your entertaiuin' re
The Lesson of Life.
'When everything is counted, it will be
found that the sum total of our lives re
solves itself into but two things—antici
pation and memory The pleasures and
miseries of the moment arc ephermeral,
and only to be taken note of as they leave
their record in the past. In youth, life
is richest in anticipation; but as years roll
on, the mind acquires the habit of look
ing backward, and when old age has
come, there is nothing left this side of the
grave. Fortunate is the man, who in the
midst of the cares and turmoils of a busy
and often unsatisfactory life, has a hap
py childhood to look back upon—. a pic
ture gallery of loving faces that once
formed a home circle, a record of sunny
years, which includes gentle tones, kind
actions, cheerful surroundings, smiling
skies, twittering birds, blooming flowers
and innocent amusements. 'Whoever
robs a child of these, robi him of more
than he can ever return to him in any
other shape. A close hard narrow life,
lived in childhood, only dwarfs the future
man's whole moral and affectionate nv
ture, but leaves him no memories to fall
back upon when the present is ,unsatisfy
ing. Make your little child happy. Pro.
vide for him what enjoyments you can,
be they great or small, and begrudge no
money that you can spare him in Secur
ing him these. In doing this you are not
only giving him present pleasure, which
is a great deal,as in youth impressions are
stronger and more rapidly received, and
the capacity for enjoyment consequently
greater; but you are really layingup a
store of happiness for him in memories
which shall last him all his life. Let the
atmosphere which surrounds your chil
dren be so impregnated with affection that
they shall breathe it in, as it 'were at eve
ry inspiration, and their hearts will grow
larger and their blood run clearer and
purer for it. Let your own lives, moth
ers,. and fatherS, be so upright and pu're„
that When - you 'have' passed away, your
Memories shall be enshrined in their
,a halo "will surround them like
the flureola. 'of* a saint. Sittting, - . tny
'friend, by, the evening fire-side; sitting in
ycar emy-huir 'rest - mid looking at
the warm light on the rosy face of your
little bliy or girl sitting' 'on the rug be
fore you, do you ever wonder what kind
of remembrance those little ones will
have of you,,:if God spares them to grow
Why is a chicken just hatched like a
cows tail ? Never seen before.
The following extract ,is from Mark
Twain's new book entitled "Roughing It,"
now in process of publication. It is an
amusing illustration of a back-settler's
view of New York life: ..
In Nevada there used ,to be current
the kw, of an adirentuie" of two of her
nabobs, which mayor 'may, not have Oc
curred. '•l•give it for *what it is - worth. •
'olor ;. e
Colonel 311 a had seem somewhat of th
world, and knew more or f lyss of its way;,
but Colonel Jack was from.the back ,set
slements of the states had - led a rife of
arduous' oil, and had ne;ier seen a
These two, blessed , with' sudden wealth,
projected .a visit to New . ; York—Colonel
Jack to see the sights, -and „Colonel Jim'
to guard hii Unsophistication 'from: mis
"lrtune. Th 7 eached San Francisco in
the night, and sailed :in the morning. Ar
riving in New York, Colonel Jack said :
"I've heard tell - of carriages all my life
and now I mean to. have a .ride in one ; I
don't care what it costs. Come along."
They stepped out on the sidewalk, and
Colonel Jim called a stylish barouche.—
But Jack said :
"No, sir. None ''of your 'cheap-john
turnouts for me. I'm hereto have.a good
time, and money ain't any object.
mean to have the noblieit rig that's' go
ing.: Now here comes the very, trick.—
Sto that eller one with the u ictures on
it—don't you fret—l'll stand all the ex
So Colonel Jim stopped an empty om
nibus and they got in. said Colonel
Ain't it gay, though. Oh no I reck-
on not ! Cushions, and windows, , and
pictures, till you can't rest. What' would
the boys say if they could see us 'Cutting
a swell like this in New York ? By George
I wish they could see us."
: dow, and shouted to the driver !
"Say Johnny, this suits me !—suits
yours ru y, you le . wan is , s e
bang all day. I'm on it, old man Let
'ern out ! Make 'em go ! We will make
it all right with you sonny r'
The driver passed liis hand through the
trap-hole, and tapped for his fare—it was
before the gongs came into common use.—
Colonel Jack took the hand, and shook it
cordially. He said : 1
. "You twig me, old pard ! All right be
tween gents. Smell of that and see how
you like it !"
And he put a twenty dollar gold piece
into the driver's hands. After a moment
the driver said he could not make change.
"Bother the change, Bide it out, Put
it in your pocket."
The omnibus stopped and a young la-'
dy got in. Colonel Jack stared for a
moment, then nuged Colonel Jim with
"Don't say a word," he whispered. Let
her ride if she wants to. Gracious, there's
The young lady , got out her portemon
naie and handed her fare toColonel Jack.
"What's this for? said he.
"Give it to the driver, please."
"Take back your money, madame. We
can't allow it. You're welcome to ride
here as long as von please, but this she
bang's chartered; you shan't pay a cont."
The girl shrunk into a corner, bewilder
ed. An old lady, with a.basket climbed
in, and proffered her fare. -
"Excuse me," said Colonel Jack. "You
are perfectly welcome here, madame, but.
we can't allow you to pay. Set right down
here, mum, and don't you be the least un
easy. Make yourself as free as if you was
in your own turnout."
Within two minutes, three gentlemen,
two fat women aid a couple of children,
"Come right along, friends," said Colo
nel Jack ; "don't mind us. This is a free
blow out." TheL be whispered to Colonel
Jim. "New York ain't no sociable place,
I don't reckon—it ain't no name for it.
He resisted every effort to pass fares to
the driver, and made everybody, cordially
welcome. The situation dawned on the
people, and they pocketed their money,
and delivered themselves up to covert en
joym,nt of the episode. Half a dozen
more passengers entered.
"Oh, there is plenty of room," said Colo
nel jack. "Walk right in and make your
selves at home. A blow-out ain't worth
anything as a blow-out, unless a body has
company." Then in a whisper to Colonel
Jim, "But ain't they cool about it too.? Ice
bergsain't anywhere. Reckon they'd tackle
a hearse, if it was going their way."
More passengers got in, more yet, and
still more., Both seats were filled, and a
file of men were . standing up holding; on
to the cleats overhead. Parties with bas
kets and bundles were climbing up on the
roof. Half-suppressed laughter rippled up
from all sides.
"Well, for, cleAn; cool, out-and-out check,
if this don't' hang anything that ever I
saw ? "l.'m Injuii," whispered Colonel
Jack. • ' •
. c . rowded his way in ,
"I weaken," said ,Colonel Jack. "Hold'
on, driver 1' Reek you= seats, ladies sand ,
gents. Just' make yourselveg. free—every-.
is paid for:- • -Driver,rustle. these folks a-.
round just as , long as thev're.a mind to,go
—friends of ours, yoif know. Take them
everywheres and if you w...trit more-mon-,
ey, come to the St • Nicholas, and. viol -
make it all right. Pleasant journey. to yoti,
ladies and gents;- pit just as long as Toni
please—it shan't, cost you, a ce.nt.": '
The two comrades got. out, and Colonel
Jack said—" Jimmy, it's the s 6 o i ablest
!'ace I ever saw. The Chinaman waltzed
in as comfortable ad anybody. ' B'George,
we'll have to barricade our doors to-night
or some of these ducks will be trying to
sleep with us."
Why should not a chicken cross the
road? It vrould be a fowl proccedina,
Hold not thy head so high, my friend,
For surely thou must know,
The heaviest heath of wheat will bend
The stocks on which they grow,
And everywhere the 'loveliest flowers
Bloom nearest to the ground—
The , sweetest songsters of the wood
In lowly shades abound.
• o no y ea_. so sigl, my
Though rich in land 'or gold;
The throngs that on thy steps attend
' Speak not the thoughts they hold ;
Their true respdct is only paid
Where worthiness they see—
Whose deferential haws are made
Unto thy wealth, not thee ! •
E o no y, ea ng
Whate'er thy station here ;
For brain will triumph in the end—
What then will be thy sphere ?
We envy not thy lordly tread,
' Nor at thy - lot repine—
Who could not hold erect a head
That weighs so light as thine ?
A Sad Story in Real Life.
, Some two years ago a young German
girl, Fanny l'lsessor, modest, handsome
and industrious, was engaged to be mar
ried to a country man named John Emig,
a - mechanic - of - unexceptionable character
both residing or having friends here. A
bout the time set for the wedding, the fa
ther of the girl died suddenly, and in con
sequence the wedding was postponed, the
betrothal still continuing, the ai rl helping
tio - support - h - er - widowed - motire b r - and - litmt--
ly,the young man working at his trade—Efs
a cabinet-maker in Steubenville.
'Last Christmas day, as we understand,
was the day appointed.the second time
for 'the wedding, and the preparations were
ma e a . -u gem-111e, even nsth—provid
ing, by his own hand, of the necessary ta
a; • ~or—housekeeping T -
fortunately, about this time, he was taken
suddenly sick, and boarding with a fami
ly in which there had been small pox dis
ease. The lady with whom he boarded,
knowing the relations between the parties,
but unknown to him, sent a message to
his betrothed at Wellsburg to come up
and nurse him.
Never hesitating, she went, as she sup
posed herself in duty bound, 4nd in a short
.time the young man recovered, not hav
ing the small-pox at all, but some other
illness. She then came home, was treated
as parties supposed to have been in con
tact with small-pox usually arc, and the
wedding was again, for a few days, defer
Shortly after, in apparent good health,
she returned to Steubenville on Tuesday
of last week, was married, on Thursday
was taken with the small-pox, and on
Saturday night following she died of the
terrible discasa, She died among friends,
it is true, but her very mother could not
see her in her sickness, and on Sunday
she was buried out of sight, hastily and
with hardly an attendant. She was a Cath
olic, but lfather Bigelow, the faith fu 1
priest, was then, also, on his death bed,
and the Holy rites of the Church could
not be performed over this daughter of af
It is a sorrowful story, and a true one.
True.and loyal woman as she.waa, her
heart was in her troth, and her truth and
loyalty led her to her death. Without a
guestion, when others hesitated, she went,
in his deadly peril, to the side of him she
loved ;.and as bravely.and as truly as ev
er soldier did, she died at the post ofdu
ty. Nay the flowers of the early spring
bloom over her humble grave— Wellsburg
SAVED BY A HORSE.—Some years since
a party of surveyors had just finished their
,day's .work in the northwestern part 'of
Illinois, when a violent snowstorm came
on. They started for their camp, which
was in. a grove of about eighty acres in a
large Parairie,mearly twenty miles from
any other timber.
The wind wivi blowing very hard, and
the snow drifting so as nearly to blind
When they thought they - had nearly
reached their camp, they-all at once came
upon tracks in the snow. These they look
ed at. with care, and found, to their dis
may;that they were their own tracks:
It was nbw plain that they were lost on
the giiNat parairie, and that if they had to
.pass the night there, in the cold and snow,
the chance wasthat not one of them wonld
be alive in the morning.
While they were shivering with fear and
the cold, the chief man of the party caught
'sight.of one of the horses—a grey pony
known as "Old Jack."
Then the chief said, "If any - one . can
show us our way to camp out of tids blind
ing snow, Old Jack can do It; I pill take
off his bridle and let him clooSe,z at2cl
can fellow him. I think hewilLshow us
our way back to camp.". • •
The horse, as soon as be found hiniielf
Free, threw his head AI tail" into thn
aa . if proud - of the, 'trust that had been-put
Upon hinil %A!'h6n he &nulled. the breeze
and gave a loud snort, which .seemed to
say : Nome on, boys Follow one ; I'll
lead you out of this stripe:' . lie then
turned in a new direction, and trotted a
long; but tot so fast that the 'men could
not follow him. They lad mei gone mom
`than a mile whoa .they saw the cheerful
blaze of their camp fires, and.they gave a
loud huzza at the sight, and for Old Jack.
A Georgia negro, to whom Senator
Suinner's supplemental civil rights bill
was explained, characterized it as "trap
to kill fool niggers." "You see, sah, some
fool Diggers will go to de Pulaski House,
and jess set hissell down by a white man,,
and de white mau will jess fro dat ar nig h
ger out the winder and broke his neck,"
Wine and SatialPressure.
One who makes a careful study of the
drinking customs of America, and the
phenomena of intemperance in
will soon discover that the samteot'of the
evil tree of drunkenness is ellishion, old
but not venerable, of regard'ing alcohol in
some form as the established and proper
symbol o and good social fel,
lowship. Subtract the social element from
the drinking usages of our own country,
;ly for the sake of stimulation,
or not at all, and you remove - a - system — of
social pressure without which few men or
women would contract drinking habits.
The young American usually learns to
use wine and spirits, not because of any
instinctive appetite for alcohol, not be
cause of its-pleasant-tasteotot because of
••.• . •• ificial stimulant, but aim . n
ly because be finds himself in company
where social drinking is fashionable, and
he wishes to imitate, or fears to offend, his
associates and superiors. An occasional
,ginss; accepted under social pressure or
ostentatiously quaffed as an evidence of
budding manliness, speedily breaks down
ll early scruples, and engenders the alco
hol appetite. Thenceforward no outside
pres Sure is required to maintain the drink-'
ing habit. A fire has been kindled with
in ; our young American has joined the
ranks . of the steady drinkers, and in his
turn helps to perpetuate and extend the
social custom - 3Vliieh has entrappel
Thus do drinking usuages descend from
generation to generation ; and thus does
drunkenness propagate itself.
pressure and worry, of "closing up" one
year, and "opening auother,in your trade,
or in your social duties, you have had no
time to sit down quietly, and let memory
.o retros ecting, please put it down as an
engagement with yourself for the earliest
I ussible evening. Then . send your thoughts
I:7to—child-hoed i —and-let them—wa -
slowly over the path by which you have
come to be what you are. Think of all
you can, the important and the little, the
sad and gay together. Let memory awa
ken honest pride or tinge the cheek with
shame—no one need see it. Unwind the
ball of life regularly, if you would see
what it amounts to ; do not slip it off in
tangled handfuls of hasty recollection,tho'
occupying but an hour or two, as much
changed in your notions and feelings a
bout yourself, as if you had been travel
ing abroad as many years.—N. Y. Obser
HINT.-If a youth is wooingly dis
posed toward any damsel, as he vales his
happiness, let him call on that lady when
she least expects him; and take note of
the appearance of all that is under' her
control.. Observe if the shoes fit neatly,.
and hair well dressed. And we would for
give a man for breaking , off' an engage=
ment if he discovered a greasy 'novel hid
away under the cushion of a sofa, or a
hole in the garniture of the prettiest foot
in the world. Slovenliness in a woman
will ever be avoided by a well regulated
mind. A woman cannot always be what
is called "dressed," but she may be always
neat. And as certainly as a virtuops wo
man is a crown of glory to her- husband,
so surely is a slot enly one a 'crown of
Tnr. Parsras-r.—Scime people are al
ways wishing themselves somewhere but
where they are, or thinking of something
else than what they are doing, orof some
person else than to whom they are speak
ing. This is' the, way to enjo y nothing
well, and to please nobody. Isis better
to be interested with the best.. A princi
pal cause of this difference is the adoption
of other people's tastes to the cultivation
of our own, the pursuit after that
we are not fled, an& to which, consequent
ly, we are not really inclined. This folly
pervades more• or less all classes, and arises
from the error of building our enjoyment
on the false foundation of the world's opin
ion, instead of being, with dim regard to
others, each of our own world.
PAnnsa TIME Hant.—Eireminate men
have long considered it the thing to part
the hairof their heads in the middle, while
on the other hand, dashing young : women
given to masculine ways, 'delight to ap
pear with short cutly hair, parted at• the
side. In both cases the parties show them
selves in their true character. _lt would
be well if the law allowed them to.change
costumes with etteh . - By a Paris
letter it appears that this attic-patting is
to be the-fashion. We• doubt' it, mainly
because such a division =mot be becom
ing unless long tresses are sacrificed, and
few of the belles will consent to that. It
is'fortunate this is the case. We do not
deny that a handsome girl adds to--can
we say her beauty? no, rather her style
.—.-by.parting her hair at the side, but it
gives such an •air of fastness ' that we
shouldlnot like the customto become gen-
Trill.. We are of the same opinion in the
matter as was the gentleman of tilting
hoops, who said : "Well, I rather do like
tilters, so long as they are only worn by
other fellows wives.
KEEP TIIE BEAD Coot.—Hall's Jour
nal of -Health says that the human scalp
is often diqPQsY , d, and intolerable head
aches result from. 'Wearing the ordinary
hat, which excludes the air altogether, aid
ed by the custom of many of keeping the
hair plastered close down upon the scalp
with the various forms of hair Rils
pomades which occasions baldness in
multitudes. It is of the utmost import
ance to the health of the hair that the air
should be allowed to have f ree access to
every hair and to every root of it.
Cast no dirt into the well that has given
you• water when you were thirsty.
$2,00 PER • YFAR
- i # and ,humor.
aia Adam" first plant•in the'Gar
den of Eden? His foot.
iy is a leaky barrel like a coward ?.
Be use it runs.
What is the difference between a girl
and- a night' trap -.7 • One is ' born to Wed,
the other is worn to bed.
Why should people marry in the win-
Tef? - 13 - ecause ladies want muffs and gen
tlemen want comforters.
Josh Billing sa a he will never pa
tronize a lottery long as he can hire
anybody else to o him at reasonable/
Two reasons why some persons don't
mind their own business : One is they
haven't any business ; and the other, they
haven't any mind.
/ 7 Did you know," said a cunning Gen
tile to a Jew, "That they haug.Jews. and
jackasses together in Portland - r"lndeedi"
retorted Solomon, "den it ish yell dat you
and I ish not dere."
A man went to borrow -a mule of a
neighbor, who said the animal was from
home. Meanwhile the mule chanced to
bray, upon which the borrower exclaimed,
"How? did yon not tell the mule was
abroad?" The other replied in a passion,
"Do you,_pnefet. the mule's word to mine?"
A Twiloufm—A Down-Easter ar
rive, in New York, and took lodgings at
one of the high houses. Telling the , wai
ter he wished to be called in the morning
for the boat, both of them preceeded on
their wind . ns wad" dpward; till, having
arrived at the eighth 'flight- of stairs, Jon
accosted him thus 7 --"Look-here, stranger
if you intend to call•me:at'sbtliVolock ' in
le morning, you mig' ~as we , .0
now, as 'twill be thuti time before, I can
get down again.."'
"Well, Mr. Smith I -want to. ax you a
"Propel it, den."-.
‘'W by am a grog shop like a counterfeit
"Well, Ginger, I . gibs dat up." ,
"Does you . gib it up
• Rase you can't
"Yah yah, nigger, you talk so much
about your counterfeit dollars, just suc
ceed to deform Rine why a counterfeit dol
lar is like an apple. pie !"- ' • . •
"0, I drape de subject, and dun% know
"Kase it isn't current."
"One-eyed Winston" was (and-probably
is) a negro preacher in Virginia,: and his
ideas of theology and human-nature are
very original, as. the following anecdote
may prove. A gentleman thusnaccosted
the old man ,on 6unday ;: ••
"Winston, I .understand ; yml believelieve
cry woman has seven devils. Now, how
can you proie, it?"' ' • '
• ‘‘‘Vell i 'Sall, did You'neber read in do
Bible how de sebekkiebbles was east out'er
,Mary Magdelene "?' ; '"••• , —, l ,, •
"Oh ! yes ; I've'read, that,
"Did you, eber bear 'of 'em bein' cast
,ont of any odder woman, stair " '
"No, I never did."
"Well, den, all de odder gotlem
A LEAP YEAE SinnY.—Judge ChM
' hers of the Belmont county, Penn., com
mon pleas, is an "old bachelor." At a
party at St. Clairville the other evening'
a young lady was standing in a draught
when the Jude stepped up and remarked.
"Miss —, f will protect You from the
draught, with my person." She replied,
"Do you promise thus to guard and pro
led me?" Through his proverbial gal
lantry he replied, "I do.'!-- Extendingher
hand she remarked, "Judge you will recol
lect this . is leap . year." The Judge was
for a moment nonplused, but finally sue
•oeded in saying, "You roust ask my
i inother." "
How HE ,DECIDED.--A poor Turkish
slater, of Constantinople,. being at work
upon the reof-ef-a-house, lost his footing
and fell int4,Allettarrow,street upon a Mall
who chancEd to be passing , at the time.
The 'pedestrian with killed by the concus
sion, While the slater escaped without ma
A son of the deceased caused the slater
to be arrested and brought before. the Ca
di, where he made the most gravecharge,
and claimed ample redress.
The Cadi listened attentively, and in
the end asked the' slater what he had to
say in his defence. . .
"Dispenser of justice;' ausweredthe ac
cused, in humble mood, "it is evenas this
man says ; but God forbid that there
should be evil in my heart., .Tam a poor
man, and know mot how I can. make a
The son of the man who had been kill
ed thereupon demanded that Condign pun
ishment should be inB cted dpbn' the ac
The .Cadt' tnedithie'd 3 few lhoments,
and finally-IMM ....` • •
"It shall be 80,1:-
• Then to the later he continue 4.:: -
"Thou shalt .stand in the street,:juhere
the father .of this man stood NO:A thou
dicrst fall Upon him:" •
And to the accuser he added—
("And thou shirt, Wit — ioTpleare thee, go
upon. thO roof, and full upoix the culpror,
even as he did fall upba thk father. Al
There is a man in, a lunatic asylum in
England 'till° bellow?, the British govern
ment wiehez to build anima foundry is