The Waynesboro' village record. (Waynesboro', Pa.) 1871-1900, March 07, 1872, Image 1
BY W. BLAIR. VOLUME 24. *tint pottrg. DEAD IN TUE SHIMS. NY JOAQUIN MILLER His foot prints have failed us Where berries are red, And madronos are rankest, The hunter is dead ! - The grizzly may pass By his half open door; May•pass and repass On his path, as of yore ; The panther may crouch In the leaves on his limb ; May scream and may scream— It'is nothing to him. rone ear• e Tam Like columns of stone , And tall as a pine— As a pine overthrown! His camp fire gone, What else can be done, Than let him sleep on Till the light of till Aye, tombless! What of it! Marble is dust; Cold and repellant ; And iron is dust. Poor Lonely One. 'Tis the same old, old story, so oft re peated but always new ; for time, with wings so fleeting, fans into existence bright flames that fiercely burn, flames fed anew by the warming breath of love. She loved! oh how deeply loved she - wh - or ;11c. ~lie one in whom she relied, as upon some higher power. Was that love idolatrous, or why was the idol broken ? Was it to teach : a lesson of diviner love, of which the heart knew not, that we heard that aad voice sighing in strains pathetic as those of the Undying One? Place not thy trust below Where changes come, But build thy faith on high, Poor lonely one, , • There is a Rock of Strength, When chill winds blow; .• • Cast there thy anchor deep Nor terror know. When waters wildly dash, And waves run high— When darksorne are the clouds O'ercast the sky, Put not thy trust below, There is a Guide, Who when the billows roar, Bids them subside. The stars are shining still, Poor lonely one; Bidding their Father's will, Which will be done. Put not thy trust below Where changes come, But build thy faith on high, Poor lonely one. Pisttliattrous Ijtatting. MY FIRST VISIT TO N. YORK It was my first visit to the city. I was rather green, and pi rhaps showed it in my looks. Alter a long walk which I had tu keu to see the sights, I had wandered into a quiet sort of a street where I stood wan dering which way to go to reach iny,ho tel. just at that moment a forlorn look ing woman carrying a large bundle ap proached me and said : "blister, I'm it poor woman, and my husband's so sick he ain't able to do any work, and me and my pour little childreu is almost starviii' ior bred: Won't you be good ei.ud' to give me two shillins?' I looked at her a bit, and see I : "Hain? t you got no relations nor neigh bors that can help you ?" , "Oh, nd, sir•; I'm too poor to have rela tions or neighbors. i was better oil once, and then I had plenty of friend." "That's the way of the world, thinks I; we always - have friends till we need'em." "Oh, sir; if you only know'd how hard I have to work, you'd pity me—l know you would." "What do you do for a livin' ?" ses I, 'for she looked too delicate to do much." "I do fine washin' and ironin'," ses she; "but sick so much that I can't make enuil to support us." And then she coi fed, a real graveyard Coil: "Why don't you git some of Schenek's Pulmonic Syrup ?" ses I. "Oh, sir 1" ses she, !`l'm too poor to buy medicin', when my poor little children is dyin' for bred." That touched me—to think that sich a delicate young cretur as her should have to struggle so hard, and I tuck out niy purse and give her a dollar. "Thar," ses I, "that will help you along a little." "Oh ! bless you, sir, you're so kind.— Now I'll buy some medicin' for my poor husband. Will you he 'good enuff to hold this bundle for me till I step back to that drug store on tho comer? It's so heavy -111 be back in a minnit," ses she. I felt so sorry for the poor woman that I co Atha refuse her sich a little favor, so 1 tuck her bundle to hold it for her. bhe said she was 'fraid the fine dresses might git rumpled, and then her customers would not pay her'; so I tuck 'em in my arms very careful, and she went to the store af ter the medicin'. There was a good many people passin' by and I walked up from the corner a lit .tle ways, so they shouldn't see me stand ,. than with the bundle in my arms. I began to think it was time for the woman to cum back, and the bundle was beginin' to get pretty heavy, when I thought I felt sumthin' movin' in it. I stopped rite still; and held•my breth to hear if it was anything, when it begun to squirm about More and more, and I heard a noise just like a tomcat in the bundle. I never was so surprised in my life, and I corn in an ace of lettin' it drop rite on the pavement. Thinks I, in the name of creation what is it? I walked down to the lamp post to see what it was, and, Mr. Thompson, would you believe me, it was a live baby f I was so completely tuck aback that I stagger ed up agiu a lamp post, and held on to it, while it kicked and squalled like a young panter, and the sweat jest poured, out of me in a stream. What on earth to do I didn't know. Thar I was in a strange city, whar nobody didn't know me, out in the street with a little young baby in my arms. I never was so mad at a female wo man before in all m *.f• any _ so nn - 1 - 6W - rike a drattd fool as I. did that rninit. ressted I started for the drug store, with the ba by squallin* like rath, and the more I tri ed to hush it the louder it squalled.. The man what kept the store sed lie hadn't seen no such woman, and I musn't bring no babies in Char. By-this-time-a-everlastiu crowd - of p-co ple—men and wirumin—was gathered a round; so I couldn't go - no - whar, -- all gab blin' and talkm' so I couldn't hardly hear the baby squall. I told 'em how it was, and told 'em I was a stranger in New York,and ax'd'em what I should do with the baby. But thar was no gettin' any sense out of 'em, and none of 'em wouldn't touch it no more'n if it had been so much pisen. "That won't do" says one feller. "You can't come that game over this crowd." "No b -indeed," ses another little rusty lookin' feller—"we've got enulf to do to take care of our own babies in these dig- gin's." "Take your baby home to its ma;" said another,`and support it like an 'onest man.' business to'em, but drat the word could I git in edgways. "Tnke'cm both to the Tooms," ses one, "and make'em give an account of them selves." With that two or three of 'em cum to ward me, and I grabbed my cane in one hand, while 1. held on to the bundle with the other. "Gentlemen,"—ses I—the baby squeel in' all the time like forty cats in a bag— " Gentlemen, I'm not gwine to be used in no sick way. I'll let you know that I'm not gwine to be tuck to n i'rooms. I'm a stranger in your city, and I'm not gwine to support none of your babies. My name is Joseph Jones, of Pineville, Georgia,and anybody what wants to know who I am, can find me at the American—" "Major Jones," ses a clever-lookin' man, what pushed his way into the crowd when he heard my name, "Major, don't be dis turbed in the least," ses he ; "I'll soon have the matter fixed." With that he spoke cto a man with a leather ribbon on his hat, who tuck the baby, bundle and all, and carried it tato the place what they've got made in New York a purpose to ke3p sal pour little or liais in. Some years age—we do not remember how many, but suppose it to be a dozen— there was a newspaper announcement a bout a man who had left a package of money at Earle's Hotel, then on Park Row, New York, to be put in the safe for safe keeping, receiving for it the usual check from the clerk. Upon presetning his check, a day or two later, he could not get his package—the clerk was horrified to discover that it was missing. It hap pened that a check had been presented, which was an exact imitation of the check given by the clerk, and on this bog us check the package had been innocently enough delivered to*the person claiming it. The depositor brought a suit to recov er $15,000, the alleged amount of the de posit left at Mr. Earle's. For years the matter was in litigation an the courts, go ing from one tribunal to another, and keep tag Mr. Earle "on the keen jump" (as Emerson has it.) The result of it all has been that Earl had to pay the $15,000, and a good deal more and expenses, a mounting in all to no less a sum thans42,- 000. This amount Mr. E. has paid in cash, to settle this troublesome job; and now, having a few months since paid the last instalmint and ended the ugly matter, he received, a week ago,(he was in town a day or two ago and told his old friends of it,) a package from Boston enclosing a letter. The package was the identical o riginal missing package from' the-safe— was identjfied as such—and with it were papers which have proved beyond a ques tion that the actual amount deposited in the hotel safe was not $15,000, but only 8560 ; and it was also revealed that the depositor had a confederate. and that the whole operation was a swindle and a rob bery. A duplicate check was made so like the other that there seemed to be no dif ference ; and the two rogues have doubt less divided the "swag" which the court° have decreeded to the plaintiff: The note, which revealed these facts, was signed "How-aid," with thii interesting addition: "A Consientious Scoundrel.—Hartford (Conn.) Times. Preaching and hearing, and reading and discluraing, they may be a kind of ploughing or harrowing, or some such piece of husbandry ; • but it is a hand out ..)f the clouds that sets the seed of ever lasting life in our hearts. An exchange s - tys: A white man in one of the bar-roams in Alabama,the oth er day, offered to pay for a quart of li quor if a negro present would drink it at one pull. The offer was taken up and the darkey is now a colored angel. A Remorseless Swindle. A FAMILY NEWSPA.PER-DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, LOCAL AND. GENERAL NEWS. ETC. WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, MARCH 7,1872. TRANSGRESSORS' FATE. At 11 o'clock on Saturday week a close carriage drove up to the Coates street en trance of the Eastern. Penitentiary. The door of the vehicle opened, and a man with a big diamond on his bosom alighted. He helped from the carriage another man in citizens' dress. The latter wore a slouch hat, a brawn overcoat, and black necktie. He had a moustache and small chin whiskers, and his face was very pale. Then another man, also wits a• big dia mond in his shirt emerged from the car riage. He was fi)llowed by a younger man in citizens' dress. The men with big diamonds were deputy sheriffs. The four advanced to the huge stone entrance and stopped before a massive i ron door. On:. - of the deputy sheriffs '•-; - _ - : grating noise noise was heard, and a small wick et in the huge iron door opened. The deputy sheriffs accompanied by the two persons iu citizens' dress, walked in. "Straight ahead to the warden's office," said Mr. Ogden, the gate-keeper. The deputies nodded, but said netting. As - the — littleWibla!Velosed again with a clang the man in the brown over-coat gave `,,a start and his face turned a little pale. He glasced at -the solid masonry and then looked furvitiy at the great iron door through which he bad just entered.— Then a sigh escapod him, and dropping his eyes on the stone pavement, he totter ed on with the officer. To the Warden's office was but a step. The deputy sheriff's opened the door ,and walked in. They were evidently. ex pected. The prison clerk, Mr. A. L. Ourt sat on a high stool behind a desk. He got down a great book, and opening it picked up a pen. 'He looked at the war= den, who was standing. by. The deputy sheriff's approached the - latter and handed him some papers. Meauvhile the gentle- ly, dropped into a seat. The warden read the papers and handed them to the clerk. he then looked at the two prisoners in cit izen's dress and bowed coldly to the man in the brown overcoat. THE EXAMINATION. The clerk glanced over the papers, and then gave a little cough. lie nervously picked up the pen and beckoned to the tainting figure in the chair. The man in ti e drown overcoat tottered over to ward the desk. • "What is your name, ;sir ?" asked the clerk. • "Joseph F. Marcer," was the answer in a faltering voice. "What is your age ?" "Thirty-seven." The clerk then nodded to a deputy keeper. The latter approached with a pine stick, marked off in feet aid inches. He stood it up behind the prisoner's back and took a good look over the top of his head. "Five feet eight," he called in a cold ~ usiness-like voice. The clerk nodded and put it down. The deputy took a tape line and drew it around the prisoner's chest. "Thirty-six inches, chest." The clerk nodded and. put it down. Then followed a 6ritical examination of the prisoners eyes, hair, complexion, marks *Jr scars, and other physical pecu liarities, all of which were duly de3 Jihad in the huge ledger. The clerk'then nod ded to the man in the brown overcoat, and With• a shudder he reeled away from the desk. "Next man I" said the clerk. The oth er young man advanced to the desk. "What is your name?" said the clerk. "Charles T. Yerkes." Age ?" “ korty. ,, Precisely the same examination was then gone through with as -in the case of other prisoner. After all the entries were made the clerk handed a paper to the dep uty sheriffs and they de arted. He then gave two tickets to the under-keeper.-- "This way," said the latter and he mov ed towards the door. The two prisoners followed him. In fifteen minutes they re appeared from another door dressed in new gray trowsers and gray jackets. They also wore gray caps. "Marcer in 71 and the other one in 89,” said the clerk. The keeper noddel. "Come along," said he, and the three slowly disappeared across the carriage-way and up the stone stair=case. The keeper' inserted a massive key, the great iron door opened heavily, •and the two passed. It closed•again with a clank. • "I suppose," said the reporter, "that is the end." "Yes, sir," said the clerk ; "that is the end. They are buried from the world for a long time, and perhaps forever." : WHO is YOUR FRIEND.—Who your friend ? Not the b.ry or girl, man or wo man, who tries to lead you astray, tempts you to do wrong, mocks at the sacred things, or give you bad advice or had ex ample. Such a person is your enemy,— not to him. Who is your friend? The person who tells you to do right, to walk in truth, to be faithful in good works; the person who urges you to pray, to study .God's word,to be always at church, to look forward to full membership with his people, to grow in grace and in the knowledge of the Lord. Such a person is your friend. Listen to him. • Ido say that to pass through the cus toms of society, its complaisance, its Apt teries, its wide lies, and its thousand little permissions, and come out unscathed, is not easy. Ido say that to pass through business in the way which it is conducted and keep your garments white, and main tain a pure character, requires the ut most endeaccr.—Beechcr. THE HOUR OF TRIAL 1 trtxs The Government of Children. The government of children says Hen ry Word Beecher ' has been a source of dissension in the household since the world began, and will be, presumably, till the "new heaven and the new earth" are pro duced. Children ought to be an element of harmony in the family, and to bring to he-Parents-u-eouncels-and--ca-opera tive love. In many cases this is the hap py result. Where it does not produce this effect, it may be from any of a variety or causes. The mother, sometimes, has an intense and excitable affection for her children, which, when roused up by anything that to her seems like injury, takes on the form of a fierce instinct, such as we see in t h e lower animal kingdom. At other times, the mother feels in an egree - .er - s.pecia an. pee tar ownership in the.child. And truly the mother has a right that the fatha has not. She travailed ; she buro it; she suffered.— Chiefly upon her fell the weariness, the watching, the anxiety, the task of early training and instruction. Her life is like a fountain poured out for the child, and _whenever_she_sees-or—fears-that her—long labor of pain and patience is 1 able to be i_r_tvented_by_the -intrusion of one who, though farther, and in law made even su perior to her in the control of children,it rausEs resistance which, springs, fom the tae very roots of moral sensibility.. A woman may often press this right unduly. But no t and thoughtful man will fail to reeogze a reason of justice in a wo man's claim to have much of the man agement of the children,provided she is really seeking their advaniage. R Since men do not as yet produce angels, but only littls unripe men over a gain, c'iildren must always ue a source of more or less tr mble, inconvenience and annoy ance in the house. Both parents Must take their shale of the patience inevitably re . uired. Amon, other thin . s children's Lotse must 'e borne Int . They must not Le too sharply curbed ; and yet, for their wn good and the welfare of the fami y, they must not be lawless nor boisterous within doors. Out of doors, and in pla) - rooms remote from hearing, let them shout. It is good practice for the lungs. But in, or near, the common sitting room, they should be trained to quietness. It is best they should early feel .the responsibility of contributing to the common good. The household' is a little commonwealth. The child is a• new citizen. He must early be taugb the duties of citizenship. It is an evil influence which permits the child to sacrifice every person's comfort in the house fbr the selfish sake of its own enjoy ment. I tlmay be plea: ant to the child for the moment,but it sacrifices a higher good. A child cannot learn too early order, sub ordination, obedience, and a willing con tribution of its own pleasure for the good of others. If restraint, or even discipline be needed to secure these results, it is best that the child be subject to them. Health and freedom may be secured without al lowing children to make nuisances of them selves. For another reason it is crdel for parents to leave their children untrained and boisterous ; such children invariably are objects of dislike to all about them.— They are the neighborhood talk. No pa rent by neglect of discipline has a right to take sides with the parent who desires an orderly family ; where the children are not vexatious despots ; -where a man may feel reasonably safe from an irruption of bears and bufildoes in human form ; and where the sharp irritable selfishness of over-indulged children shall not be his daily portion. They will not Learn. The world learns its lessons slowly.— Much of the world does not learn its les sons at all. The young are everywhere growing up amid tie ruins of other lives apparently Ivithout inquiring or caring for the reasons of the disasters to life, - fortune, and reputation that are happen ing, or ha* happened, everywhere around them. One man with great trustsof mon ey in his hands, betrays the confidence of the public, becomes a defaulter, and blows his brains out. Another, led on by pow er and place, is degraded at last to a poor demagogue without character and influ ence. Another,aby surrender of himself to sensuality, becomes a disgusting beast, with heart and brain more foul than the nests . of unclean birds. Another, by tasting and tasting the , wine cup, becomes a drunkard at last, and dies in horrible de lirium, or lives to be a curse to a wife, children and friends. There is an army of those poor wretches in every large city in the land dying daily, and daily reinfor ced. A young girl, loving not wisely, but too well, yields,herself to a seducer, who ruins and forsakes her to a life of shame and a death of despair. Not one girl, but thousands of girls yearly, so that, a great company of those whose robes are soiled beyond cleansing, hide themselves in the grave during a twelve-month; another great company of the pure drop to their places and 'keep filled to repletion the ranks of prostitution. Again and again, in in stances 'beyond counting, are these trage dies repeated in the full presence of the rising generation, and yet it seems to grow no wiser. A clever writer has to say concerning dress : "To come to the conclusion of the whole matter : to be well drsed re• quires first, to be neatly dressed ; next, to be appropriately dressed; last, but not least, to be dressed within one's means.— The costume that is unpaid for is not a becoming one to anybody ; and robbing Peter to pay Paul is poor policy at best." There is nothing like beginning life with settled economical principles. Ex travagsno is a habit easily contracted and goes on increasing in volume as a snowball does when rolling down a high hill. OFT IN THE STREIT NIGHT BY TOM MOORE Oft in the stilly night 'Ere slumber's chain has bound me Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me; Of boyhood's years, • The words of love then spoken ; The eyes that shone, Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hedits now broken! Thus in the stilly night • 'Ere slumber's chain has bound me, • Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. When I remember all The friends so linked together, I've seen around the fall Like leaves in wintry weather, I feel like one • Whdtreads alone Some-banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are Whose tarlands dead And all but he departed ! Thus in the stilly night 'Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. A Masonic Story. Two men had been fast friends. In an evil hour they quarrelled. They did not speak, and had not applrT ... for years.— Mutual friends tried the\trt of reconcilia tion in vain. They were Wowed enemies for life. One of them became a Mason after the estrangement, and it_hapPened that the other remained. ignorant of the fact. One evening he too. was admitted to a lodge. Almost the rst.• voice he heard, and certainly 'the 'first face he .I.w, was that of • _ ed over the ceremonies of initiation, and was obliged, according to usage to,,ad dress him by the :title of "brother.". This was a peculiar situation, and' a severe or deal for both. Atter the lodge was clos ed the Apprentice sought the Master, and without any preliminaries, the following colloquy ensued commenced by the new ly made Mason. "Are you a • member of this lodge?" • The answer was "I am." . "Were you present when I was elect ed ?" . "I was." - -, "May I ask if•you voted?" "I did." Now will you tell me how many votes it requires to reject a candidate on ballot for admission ?" The worshipful Mas ter answered, "One." There was nothing more to say. The initiated extended his hand, which was warmly grasped by the other, and utter ed with thrilling accents, deep emotion mellowed his voice, "Friend 1 Brother! you have taught me a lesson I shall nev er forget." This is a little ray of Mason light. No language is so eloquent as the silent throbbing of a heart full of tears...-. While this kind of cement is used in our moral edifice, should it not be enduring? SOCIAL IMPORTANCE OF THE FIRESIDE. —The fireside is a seminary of infinite importance. It is important because it is universal, and because the education it bestows, being woven in with the woof of the childhood, gives form and color to the whole texture of life. There are few who can receive the honors of a college, but all are graduates of the hearth. The learning of the university may fade from the recollection, its classic lore may moul der in the halls of memory ; but the sim ple lessons of home, enamelled upon the heart of childhood, defy the rust of years, and outlive the more mature but less vi vid picture of after years. So deep, so lasting, indeed, are the oppressions of ear ly life, that you often see a man in the imbecility of age holding fresh in his re collection the events of childhood, while all the wide space between that and the presenthour is blasted and forgotten , waste. You have perchance seen au old half obliterated portrait, and in the at attempt to have it cleaned and restored you may have seen it fade away, while a brighter and more perfect picture, paint ed beneath, is revealed to view. This portrait, first drawn upon canvass, is no inapt illustration of youth.; and though it may be concealed by some after-design still the original traits will shine through the outward picture, giving a tone while fresh, and surviving it in decay. Such is the fireside—the great institution of Prov idence for the education of man. IlifsELT.—Look most to your spending. No matter what comes in, if more goes out you will always be poor.— The art is not in making money, but iu keeping it; little expenses, like mice in a barn, when they are many, make a great waste. Hair by hair, heads grow bald ; straw by straw, the thatch goes off the cottage; and drop by drop the rain comes into the chamber. A barrel is soon emp ty if the tap leaks but a drop a minute. When you mean to save, begin with your mouth; there are many thieves down the red lane. The ale jug is a great waste. In all other things keep within compass.— Never'stretch your legs farther than the blankets, oryou will soon be cold. In clothes, choose suitable and lasting stuff, and not tawdry fineries. To be warm, is the main thing ; never mind the looks.— A fool may make money, but it needs a wise man to spend it. Remember it is easier to build two chimneys than to keep one going. If you give all to back and board, there is nothing left for the saving bank. Fare hard and work hard while you are young, and have a chance to rest when you are old. A Knock Down Argument. There is much infidelity of a kind which cannot be easily argued, out of men's minds. It . has its seat in the heart; and nothing in the shape of argument can affect it, iso long as the skeptic remains in health, strength or courage. But times of storm r ' . cr' • this bravery and courage fails, and then this infidelity flies like a dream. An English paper reports that a Air. Bradlaugh, a noted infidel, having con cluded a lecture, presented his doctrines to the people and called upon • any per son present to reply to his argument, if they could. • A collier arose in the as sembly, and spoke somewhatas follows : "Maister Bradlaugh, me and my mate Jem were both Methodys till one of these r • • ' 1 -11 • • infidel and used to badger me 'bout'tend ing prayer meetings; but one day in the pit, a large cob of coal come down on Jem's head. Join thought he was killed and, all, mon ! but he holler and cry to God !'"fhen turning to Mr. Bradlaugh, with a,kuowing look, he said : "You man, there is now't like cobs of _ _ _ _ _ cow infidelity out man. The collier carried the audience will hint, for they well knew that a -knock in _the_head_by_a_big—chunk of coal would Upset the coarage_ond with it the Bkep- ticism of stronger infidels than "my mate Jon." Many an infidel has discarded his infidelity and cried to God for mercy in sickness cr in danger, both on land and sea; but who ever-heard of,a Chris tian turning from his faith in the hour of peril; and forsaking God when (Lath was at the door. A NAan GRAvE.— Among, the countless throngs who daily -pass and re pass Trinity, New York, how many know that within a few feet of the great crowd ed thoroughfare i of Broadway, is a grave vhieh covers all that remains of a once beautiful and fascinating young lady, the records of whose sorrows has dimmed the eyes of thousands. No date of birth, no indication of family. and no date of death appears on the stone that covers the grave of-Charlotte Temple.. The most beauti fuigirl of New York,—as it•was exclaim ed,—she attracted the attention of a young officer, a member of .England's old est families, who with his regiment enter ed N: Y., when the British occupied it, after the battle of Long' Island. Char lotto, then only seventeen; was wooed and won by the dashing officer. Soon af ter he deserted her and then—the old sto ry—she soon after died of a broken heart. A little 'daughter which she left was ten derly dared for, at a proper age she was taken to England, and a fbrtune of one hundred , thousand dollars settled upon her by the head of her father's family, the late earl of Derby, grandfather of the present Lord Stanely: She, like a true daughter and a true woman, returned to New York, and erected the monument that now marks:the mother's grave. Couldn't Understand. Two negroes, bargaining for some land the price of which was $9OO, said they had only half so .much. money. "Very well," said the land agent, "I'll take $450 down and a mortgage for the balance in a year." 'Sarah° scratched his head a moment and replied, "But I say, boss, s'poss a fel ler hain t got no morgitch ?" The agent explained that he would t Ike a mortgage on the land to secure the balance. "But boss, I haint got no morgitch." The agent again explained, but the darkey. couldn't see it, and disclaimed the ownership of a single "morgitch." The other darkey here came to the rescue, and lucidated the pint." Says he, "Sambo, don't you know what a morgitch is ? Den 1 tell you. S'pose you pays de boss $450 down; den you gives your word on de honor of a nigger dat you'll pay hint de udder $450 in a year. Den S'pose on de last day eh de year you - pays de bosss449 —and don't pay him de udder dollar, why den de .morgitch says de boss can jes take all the money and the land, and you don't have nuffin—nut a cent." "Golly, boss, a morgitch makes a nig ger mitey honest." A. young man was enlarging to a lady friend on the character and qualifications of a young lady, who was a mutual ac quaintance. The youth wishing to com mend her goodness with her heart, laid his hand upon the region of his own. heart, and said, "She is all right here." A female herb doctor at Detroit recently solicited the privilege of curing a paralytic. She ordered the patient's undershirt taken off and burned to ashes, and the ashes giv en him it small doses, and also rubbed on his chest. It is a fact that the man soon recovered, and is free to think that her queer remedies cured him. SENSIBLE TO THE LAST.-A sensible shoemaker, who made a princely fortnne by the sale of an extensively advertised shoe string of his own invention, wrote this stanza, which now adorns his crest : If you are wise and wish to rise, Then pitch right in and advertise ;. / If you are not, then sit down sot, And let your business go to pot, Gluttony is the source of all our dis eases. As a lamp is choked by a super abundance of oil, a fire extingnshid by excess of fuel, so is the natural health of the body destroyed, by intemperate diet. A man in Meriden, Conn., did without tobacco last year, and gave his wife silty dollars at Christmas, as the result of his economy. Go thou and do likewise. ' A family paper it? a. family ire:l:lnc(' 82,00 PER YEAR II IN NEC a n d uinor. - by does a rooster cross the street?— to get on the other side. What makes more noise than_a-pig_un-+— a a gat What looks most like a half a cheese ?--t the other half. Which side of the horse invaria_bl • : : a most hair on it? The outside The cat is a wonderful builder; we have seen a cat run up a house in five minutes. Garrison says that the viomtn' question r,g one. it wasn't. At a church fair in Philadelphia one woman took seven premiuinsHiut—was— put in jail for "taking" them. A boy in lowa has a silver quarter stuck fast in his throat. It can't beatj quarter or it wou Boston paper is "in favor of women voting if they want to." A Western pa per "would like to see the men who could make them vote if they d]d'nt want to." How does a pitcher of water differ from a man throwing his wife over a bridge? One is water in the pitcher, and the other, is pitch her in the water. A woman, on being separated from her husband, changed her religion, being de termined to avoid his company in this world and the next. - - - "Come here, my 'dear, I want to see you all about your sister. "Now tell me truely, has she got a beau ?" "No, it's the janders she's got, the doctor says so." A fellow out west gets off the following definition of a Isidow : "One who knows what's what, Band is desirous of furthei information on the subject." Always catch a, lady when she faints but do not rumple her hair, it makes. her come to before she is fairly ready. • • "Papa," said a boy, what is punctuation?' 'lt is the art of putting stops, my child: Then I wish you'd go down into the cel lar and punctuate the cider barrel, as the cider- is running.a.ll over the floor. rAlwyer one asked a Dutchman con cerning a pig "iwcourt." • "What ear-marks had he?" Vell, yen I first bacame acquainted mit de hock, he hab no ear-marks except a tri short tail." _ • An Irishman being asked what he came to America, for, said: "Is't what I came here for you ma ne?— Arrah by the powers! you may be sure that it wasn's for Want, for I had plenty of that at home. SAYINGS OF JOSE BILLINGS.—Tho only thing that makes a mule so highly respect able is the accuracy of his kickings. I have known people to have so little character, that they had no failings. ' If you have got a horse you ask two hun dren dollars lin., and are offered seventy five for him, always sell him, don't spoil a good horse trade for one hundred and twenty-five dollars. To make a goose good eating, bring her up tenderly. A little boy defines snoring as "letting off steep. You can't convert sinners by preaching the gospel to them at half price. Any sin ( ner who is anxious to get his religion in that way is satisfied with a poor article. Revenge sometimes sleeps, but vanity always keeps one eye open. The only human being on the face of the earth that I really envy is a laughing Christian. Men of little authority are like men of little strength—always anxious to lift something. There are two kinds of men that I don't care to meet when I am in a great hurry —men that I owe, and men that want to OWG me. THE NATURE OF AN amt.—Early in the rebellion; when the Federal forces were stationed at. Beaufort S. C there was an' old dakxcy by the name of Lige Jackson, who deserted by his master, was left to take care of himself as best he might. Lige was considered a chattel of weak intellect, and moreover he was exceedingly awkward in bis.attempts to play the role of a house servent. He smashed and destroyed pretty nearly everything he laid his hands upon, and having waited upon nearly every officer at the poet, each in turn, after living him the benefit of a good cursing for his stupidity turned him adrift. It happened that Lige was a witness in a case that came before a court-martial, and beir , called up to give his testitro iv, • was objected to on the part of the detenil ant, ,who stated that he didn't believe the nigger was of sound mind. Stand up, Lige,' said the court. "Do you understand the nature of an oath 7' Lige scratched his head for a moment, • and then turning up the white- of his eyes he replied: "Look a yam, masse; dis nig ger hes waited on 'bout half de ocsif4rq since day fus corned to dis place, and ifho don't 'stand de nature of an oaf by dis time, den dare's no wirtn in cussing.' The court considered Lige a competent witness. Glashier, an reconaut, says that the voice of woman can be hcaid in a balloon wtlo - .'.° at the height of twia miles, while that of • • a< man ininpot he heard when higher than 'a.' Mile.