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BY W. BLAIR.
°LITHE 25
tint Vottrg.
WEB ARGUMENT.
0, life is short, and love is brief;.
Life ends in woe, and love in grief;
Yet bothAr bliss are giyen.
Ahd wise philosophy will teach,
Who one enjoys enjoyeth ea.,h,
:And 'comes most near to heaven.
Now: Ton and I, clenr girl, w ill know
All bliss is fleeting here below,
As mornlists do prove.
Then let its haste ; while youth is rife,
to snatal4he fondest joy in life,
And.enly, jive .tolove.
O love, it isthe tender rose,
• That for a.,little season blows,
And withers, fades and dies;
Then seize it in its budding grace,
And in thy. bosom give it place,
lie its pureet perfunie, flies.
Love is the, bubble that cloth swill/
ike—wine,autlym=ilowinfrb a ,
A:3 22 oraMit sparkling there;
Then, Lasts thee, dear, its sweets to Bip,
And, let them melt upon thy lip,
,Or they will waste in air.
O love, is the <l , ?wdrop brig ,t
That steals upon the flowers at night,
And lingers there till morn ;
The flower cloth drop, with Ihe day,
The sun dissolves the drop away ;
So love is killed by scorn.
o„_love_islike_the_lineting-spark
'Midst fading embers in the dark—
'Tie brightest as it dies;
But 'fis a l'hcamix with swift wings,
And forth from its own ashes springs,
And soars for genial skies,
Thep taste love's joys, while yet you may
,For they w•iih,ayintry age decay,
4nd coldness with them smother;
And if young, love sjmuld.eyer find
O]ue maiden's heart to prove unbind,
He soon will seek another.
0115allauton
ifittslVA:ooA..l3):WAi'qD)VititsiNual
"Also, to ray beloved nephew, I 'will
:and bequeath my private escritoire, and
,all contained therein, in acknowledge
ment of his never-ceasing kindness."
This was the only part of the will I es
pecially noticed. To be sure, I realized,
"in a-sort of a way, that all my forty or
fifty cousins had been in some way re
inembercu, but for all that, my thoughts
had been wool-gathering, or some where
,else, until my name was mentioned.
And co the old lady was dead. I re
;membered that Iliad a sort of a sad feel
ing that I had not tried harder to have
made her life a happy one. Naturally
lithlt-finding. and especially suspicious of
Sortune-hunters, I had kept a proper
.distance, only writing once a year, and
,culling as often. I was quite surprised
'that 1 was mentioned at all, and even
when my name was ,mentioned I could
.hardly realiie it.
But owning a thing raises one's curios
ity as to what it is like; so when the
rest were at last satisfied, I looked around
for my property. Up stairs and down
stairs I searched, but no escritoire could
be found, until at last I was beginning
to think it was all a hoax, when some
one suggested looking in the garret. So
'with slow, indifferent steps I crawled up
the queer old stairs, and the first thing
that' I beheld was my escritoire ; hot,
sad to relate, a more dilapidated looking
afilcit I never saw. The knobs were bro
ken off; and the doors half hanging by a
few rusty screws. In fact, my first thought
was that my aunt had insulted' me. But,
out of respect to her, I had it taken to my
"bachelor's hall," as I called it. Perhaps
'with a little fixing, it might be made to
look quite respectable.
.So 'that afternoon found me, with ham
mer and screws, doing the best at it. But
even with all my pains -taking, it was
not beautiful, and I half fancied my
dreary room looked all the more dreary
for my new posession.
At that time I was a book-keeper in a
bank•with a small salary,-and no pros
pects of advancluent. Not that I could
not have done anything else, but there
seems to be a sort of faeination in a bank
to one who has been employed for a long
time which keeps them there even when
they know they could do better some
where else.
As a gencial thing, I was quite con
tented. My pay came regular, and my
being economical kept me quite nicely.—
Of course, under present circumstances,
could never think of marrying, and the
prospect of always living in those dull
'MOMS alone was not very pleasant.
13ut I remember this particular night,
all the blue devils were let looSe on me.
I was completely discouraged. I think
there axe times in . the. life of every one
when they are left to contend alone with
. 811 the horrors of darkness ; when some
,imp, bolder than the others, dares whis
per in his ear,-
- "Your life is a failure. The world
would be better without you ?"
I endured such thoughts as long as pos
sible. then concluded it would never do,
and looked around for something to help
dispossess myself of my tormentors. AV
eye fell on my newlyacquired property,
I had never looked it careful ly over ; so
I ..began to pull out the drawers, and
soon was quite surprised to find how in
terested I was. There were a few old pa
pers, and in one drawer I found a pack
age of old letters, yellow and wrinkled
with age. On the outside of the package
was written, in my aunt's well known
writing, "Lost at Sea." So even she had
her story. I had always wondered why
she had never married, and that "Lost at
Sea" explained the whole mystery. Put
ting them carefully back I continued my
explorations until I concluded I had look
ed it all over, and was just going to re
tire when I happened to think that some
times such old-fashioned affairs had secret
springs.
So I went over it again, trying with my
thumb and fingers every place that might
possibly open, and at last I was reward
ed. Sure enough, there was a slide, and
back of that a sort of box form which I
drew out a paper. I remember I felt a
little ashamed to find my hands tremble
as I opened the paper. I glanced at the
date. It was only the week before my
aunt had died. The words blurred before
my eyes, but I managecLto read. It seem
ed to be a continuation of the will, and
read as follows :
• ‘.`Also. to my. mephew I will bequeath
the sum .of . forty. thousand dollars, to be
_ aid at _the end=of--thre- 'ea —a Nyvizlin-,2•:,
itirli at that time
own exertions, to add, thereto the sum of
ten thousand dollars. At the same time,
the greatest secrecy must be preserved
concerning his future prospects. Also,at
the end of that time, he must be able to
swear that he has.never revealed thepos
session of the will,, or the money will be
left to charitable institutions."
Then followed her name in full, and al
so that of a prominent lawyer.
Well, here was fbod for reflection. I
couldsearcely realize, at first, that it could
be true r lat f thought-I—knew-enough-a--
bout forms to be sure it was a that
would stand balm the oddest thing I
had ever heard of: But she was always
up to odd things ; besides, I thought she
was not pleased with my easy way of tak
ing life,•and had taken this means to Wake
me up, trusting to my well-known curios
ity fur finding the Will.
She had certainly succeeded in arous—
ing me. Sleep forsook my • pillow that
night ; one moment 1 would imagine my
serf rich and respected, then, like a grim
specter, would come the conditions of the
will. How could I, without any help,
make ten thousand dollars,was more than
I could tell. I must leave the bank, that
was sure; but what to do, or where to go,
were questions that could not be answer
ed that night, or the next,
At last, I became so stupid and unso
cial that my friends all left me in disgust.
I grew poor and haggard, and at the end
of g, mouth could hardly realize I was the
same person as the gay, careless boy of a
month before. I hardly knew how it
would have ended for me, if just at that
time I had not xeceived a letter from an
old friend of my.aunt's living in Wiscon
sin, saying his daughter was going to New
York to attend school ; that she was not
accustomed to traveling alone, and as the
place in which I lived was.quite a rail—
road center, and to prevenfher making
any mistake, would 1 kindly.meet her at
the two o'clock train on the twenty-fah
of the present month. She would be dres
sed in brown, would wear a blue vail,and,
to make her still more easily distinguish
ed, she should carry a sheet of music.
Fun. once my thoughts were taken away
from my • fortunes, and I found myself
wondering what she would be like, and
how long she would have to wait.
The two o'clock train found me anxious
ly inspecting the passengers as they poured
out of the cars. Sure enough there were
plenty with brown dresses and blue veils,
but none with anything that looked like
music in their bands. I concluded she
had not come, when I heard a musical
voice at my elbow say :
"I do l,elieve you are the gentleman
papa said I would find here to help me.
Arn't you Mr. Collin wood ?"
Yes, that was my name, and there was
the brown dress, blue veil and sheet of
music ; and more than all that, there was
the most charming specimen of humanity
I had seen for many a day. I recogniz
ed her immediately. She had to wait two
hours, and you may be sure we improved
every moment.
After I had seen the last faint flutter
of the blue veil through the car window,
I went back to my lonely room more
gloomy than ever, and, my thoughts were
very much divided between thousand dol
lar bills and Miss Dalton.
HencefOrth, I wan a changed man. I
was ready to work, and willing to do any
thing that was honorable,and would bring
me money. And it was perfectly wonder
ful how well I succeeded. People seemed
to help me of their own accord. There
is an old saying, "The gods help those
who help themselves," and I proved it
true. Not that I rose to honor by any
royal road, but the end of the first year
of my probation found me with a thou-,
sand dollars to show for my work, and
better yet, I had faith in myself: If I
never saw a cent of the forty thousand
dollars, I could take Bare of myself, and
sometimes not so terrible far in the future,
might allow myself to think of something
better than always living alone.
About this time I found a chance to
invest my little fortune on what seemed
good security, and it proved profitable,
for before I had time to think much a—
bout it, my thousand dollars . had doubled
twice. I don't believe there ever was a
happier fellow then I then.
A few days after my goad fortune,bus
iness called me to New York. I had not
forgotten my pleasant acquaintance, and
from her father lied learned she was still
I 1u ‘i • Z .." I /Al I C 1 11 ; k :4 1 ,' •
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 25,1872.
there. As I had her address, I felt at
liberty to call. She really seemed pleased
to see me, and I, well, Ido not want to
make this a love story,so I won't tell how
I felt. At any-rate, my visit lengthened
from two days to the week, and at the
end of that time she had promised she
would be my wife at the end of a year.
Fortune continued to favor me, in ac
cumulating money, at the end of the year
I had my ten thousand dollars all ready.
I. hastened to the place I had left my pre
cious will, almost dreading to look for
fear it had disappeared ; but no, it was
there, and I took it to the lawyer who had
signed it, asked him to put me in poesess
ion of my property, as I had fulfilled the
conditions to the letter. He looked it
over, then said :
"Young man, I am very sorry to dis.,
appoint you, but this will will never stand
in law, for the very important reason that
your aunt did not have forty thousand
dollars to will to any one. She said She
was goiug to make a man of you, if pos
sible,and am happy to find she has done
it. You have my congratulations."
Well, I must confers, at first I did feel
pretty badly about it, but I managed _to
live through it. ,I determined to' visit
Miss Dalton at once, tell her all about it,
and see if she was still willing to take me
for better or worse.
As soon .as_pissil le afterAwtriw' ,-
re Ift - Cd — the whole story to her. I was
hardly prepared for the way she took it.
One moment she seemed ready to cry,the
next she could hardly keep from laugh
ing. At last - she - found - voice enou-glrfo
say, "0 Charley, I knew it all the time.
Your aunt told father all about it." The
loss of my forty thousand dollars did not
trouble me much after that,for one month
from that time Miss Dalton became my
wife.
WORTH BEADING AND WORTH HEED
nco.---Let not your tongue cut your
The first step towards happiness is to
forget one's s.elt:
Let it be seen and felt that your aim is
to be—not to seem to be.
Men may ,judge us by the success of
our efforts ; God looks at the efforts them-
The chains of habits are generally too
small to be felt, till they are too strong
to be broken.
The best charities are those which are
daily dispensed in pleasant words and
kindly to all round.
Blessed are they whose eye is serene ;
whose voice is gentle ; whose heart is
sweet; whose life makes happiness.
Nothing can tend more to the health
of the body than the tranquility of the
mind and the due regulations of the pas
sions.
If good people would but make good
ness agreeable, and smile, instead of frow
ning in their virtue, how many would be
won to the good cause.
A true religious instinct never depriv
ed man of any single joy ; mournful fac
es and a sombre aspect are the conven
al affections of the weak-minded.
Never mind where you work; care
more about how you work. Never mind
who sees, if God approves. If he smiles
be content. We cannot be always SAC
when we are most useful.
chief secret of comfort lies in not
suffering trifles to ve..x: one, and in, pru
dently cultivating an undergrowth of
small pleasures, since very few great ones
are let on long leases.
,AN EXAMPLE FOR 'MEN} MEN.-
Those extra nice young men who never
wish to soil their hands with manual la
bor, but aspire, to professional and lazy
'gentility," can learn a good lesson from
the course pursued by the nephew of the
late Colonel Holt, of Hartford, Conn.,
who received from his uncle an immense
fortune. At the time of Colt's death, the
nephew was learning his trade of machin
ist, in his uncle's shop, working diligent
ly every day, [subject to the same rules
as other apprentices. On his death, he
became a millionaire.; but choosing a
guardian to manage his property, he
continued at his labor and served out
his apprenticeship.. Now, when he walks
the fine rooms of hi: house, or drives a
'handsome and costly team, he has con
sciousness that if his riches take to them
selves wings and fiy away, he is with the
means of getting an honest livelihood,
and can make a fbrtune for himself. He
was a great mechanic, and is not asham
ed of it again. Labor, with its accom 7
panying dirt, is not dishonorable or -de
grading; laziness, and its almost necessa
ry evils, are disgusting and destroying.
Dirty hands and a sense of independence,
are to be preferred to kid gloves and the
consciousness of being a mere drone in
the human hive. lools rust of neglect
—wear out from use. Neglect is crimin
al—use is beneficial. So with man's ca
pacities—better wear them t. at than let
them rust.
The men who are working at the boil
ing furnaces and rolls, in the machine
shops and fitetories, on the farms and a
mong the hills, will in ten or twenty
years be our legislators, leaders and man
ufacturers and capitalists. All men can
labor but all cannot save. Those who
save and use their savings to the best ad
vantage will be the men to stand in the
front rank. Those who do not will live
and die and be forgotten like the horses
that haul the iron. they make or the pro
duce they grow. To eat and drink and
sleep and work is not all of life. The ur
gency of these wants blind the true ob
ject of living. There is room in the world
for all the good, industrious and think
ing men that can lift themselves above
the common level of humanity.
Silent contempt always is the sharpest
reproof: .
Patrick 'Henry.
In the Atlantic for July Parton begins
his story of Patrick Henry. His narra
tive begins in October, 1776, when Jef—
ferson, having resigned his seat in Con—
gress and having declined the mission to
France with Franklin_andDeane,sethim ,
self to the work of reform in his own State
—"a slovenly, slatternly old England in
the woods, where the abuses and absurdi
ties of the old country were exaggerated."
There is a clear account of the abuses
which Jefferson and his friends sought to
do away, and prominent among these was
the intolerance of the established church,
which Mr. Parton illustrates by the case
of three Baptist preachers who were ar
raigned as "disturbers of the peace" before
magistrates who were determined to con
vict them. Patrick Henry rode fifty miles
to defend them, and the following account
is given of his performance—it was more
than a speech—on that occasion :
, "He entered the court house :while the
prosecuting attorney was reading the in
dictment. He was a stranger to most of
the spectators, and being dressed in the
count: - ntrancp
_.ry manner, Ais entrance excited no
remark. When the prosecutor had finish
ed his brief opening, the,new-comer took'
the indictment, and glancing at it with an
expression of puzzled incredulity, began_
ora man who
LO bpeak --- ni ora man who hak
heard something too astonishing for belief :
"May it please your worships, I chink [
heard read by the prosecutor, as I enter
ed the house, the naperano_w_hold in my_
hand. If I have rightly understood, the
King's attorney has framed an indictment
for the purpose of arraigning and punish
ing by imprisonment these three inoffen
sive persons before the bar of this Court
for a crime of great magnitude—as dis
turpers of the peace. May it please the
Court, what did I hear read? Did I hear
it distinctly, or was it a mistake of my
own ? Did .1 bear an expression as of a
crime, that these men, whom your wor
ships are about to try for misdemeanor,
are charged with—with—with WHAT ?'
"Having delivered these words in a
halting, broken manner, as if his mind
was staggering under the weight of a mon
strous idea, be lowered his voice to its
deepest base ; and assuming the profound
est solemnity of manner, answered his
own question ; Preachin 3. the Gospel of
the Son of God 1'
"Then he paused. £very.eye was now
riveted upon him, and every mind intent ;
for all this was 'executed as a Kean or
Siddons would have perfbrmed it on the
stage—eye, voice, attitude, gesture. all in
accord to plioduce the utmost possibility
of effect. Amid a silence that could be
felt, be waved the indictment three times
round his head, as though still amazed,
still unable to comprehended the charge.
"Then he raised his hands. and eyes to
heaven, and in a tone of pathetic energy
wholly nncescribable, exclaimed 'Great
God!'
,`At this point, such was the power of
his delivery, the audience relieved their
feelings by a burst of sighs and tears.
The orator continued:
"May it please your worships, in a day
like this, when Truth is about to burst her
fetters, when mankind are about to be a
roused to claim their natural and inalien
able rights, when the yoke of oppression
that has reached the ilderness of Ameri
ca, and the unnatural .alliance of ecclesi
astical and civil power, are about to be
dissevered—at such a plriod when Liber
ty, Liberty of Conscie nee, is about to
wake from her slumbering% and inquire
into the reason of such charges as I find
exhibited here to-day in this indictment
—' Here occurred another of his appall.
ing pauses, during which he cast piercing
looks at the judges and at the three clergy
men arrigned. 'Then resuming, he thrill
ed every hearer by his favorite device of
repetition: am not dweived—ac—
cording to the contents of the paper I now
hold in my hand—these men are accused
of preaching the Gospel of the Son of God!'
He waved the document three times round
his head as though still lost in wonder;
and then, with the same electric attitude
of appeal to Heaven, he gasped, 'Great
God !'
"This was followed by another burst of
feeling from the spectators ; and again this
master of effect plunged into the tide of
his discourse :
`May it please your worships,there ara peri
ods in the history of men when.corruption
and depravity have so long debased the
human character, that man sinks under
the weight of the oppressor's 'hand—be
comes his servile, his abject slave. He
licks the hand that smites him. He bows
in passive obedience to the mandates of
the despot; and, in this state of servility,
he receives his fetters, perpetual bond
age. But may it please your worships,
such a day has passed. From that period
when our fathers left the land of their na
tivity for these American wilds, from the
moment they placed their feet upon the
American continent, from that moaleut
despotism was crushed, the fetters of dark
ness were broken, aad Heaven decreed
that man should be free, free to worship
God according to the Bible. In vain were
all their sufferings Rad bloodshed to sub
jugate this new World, if we, their off
spring, must still be oppressed and perse
cuted. But, may it please your worship;
permit me to inquire.once more, For what
arc these men about to be tried? This pa
per says, For preaching the gospel of the
Saviour to Adam's fallen race
'Again he paused. For the third time
be slowly waved the indictment round his
head ; and then, turning to the judges,
looking them full in the face, exclaimed
with the most impressive effect. 'What
laws have they violated ?' The whole as
sembly were now painfully moved and
excited. The presiding judge ended the
scene by saying, 'Sheriff, discharge these
mon.' "
DO THE RIGHT.
Do the right, 0 child of pleasure !
Let thy heart be free from stain,
Spurn from thee each selfish treasure,
Love the good and thou shalt gain.
In the gilded haunt of beauty
_ Oft the demon doth .invite :
Bear n mind thy noblest duty
-81, in the wrong and do the right.
Do the right, 0 child of sorrow?
Never let thy hopes grow faint;
For the sunshine comes to-morrow—
Strive to be a worthy. saint:
Even though life to thee seems dreary,
And thy prospects dark as night,
Never let thy faith grow weary—
Banish w.ong and trust the right.
Do the right and never falter,
Never be ashamed to own,
That the right thou wilt not palter,
Nor its happiness disown.
• Be a good and faithful servant ;
Though your station in the fight
May be humble, yet, if fervent,
-lion - wilt - conkre - r - w;ith - the right.
TOASTS AND SENTimEwiik';--May the
honest heart never know distress.
May we be sla•
— duty: - -
May care be a- sti n gern where virtue
. resides. ;
May hemp bins these whom honor can.
not.
May our prudence secure us filer — rdi:
but enable us to live without assistance.
May sentiment never be sacrificed by
the tongue of deceit.
May our happiness be sincere and our,
joys lasting.
May the smiles of conjugal felicity com
pensate the frowns of fortune.
May the tears of sensibility never nev
er cease to . flow.
1 , 1 -- tiff' iferrnenta - be foffid-
_ay tlfe roaa co prei
by none but those whe deserve it.
May avarice lose his purse and benev
olence find it.
May the liberal hand have free access
to the purse of plenty.
) May the impulse of generosity never
be checked by the power of necessity.
May we ever keep the whip-hand of
our enemies.
May we, always forget when we forgive
au injury - .
May we learn to be frugal before we
are obliged to be so.
May we treat our friends with kind
ness and our enemies with generosity.
May reason be the pilot when passion
blows the gale.
IDLENESS.—Idleness is the nurse of all
vices. It moves so slowly that they all
.overtake it. The Germans and Italians
say in overbially that "Idleness is the dev
il's pillow. Some effect to excuse this
dydra-headed habit by asking what harm
can a person do when he does nothing.—
The reply is ready and plain. He who is
passive in allowing decay, is himself a
destroyer. While standing still and re
fusing to help, he obstructs the move—
ments of others. We are told in Holy
Writ, "By much slothfulness the building
,decayeth, and through the idleness of the
hands the house droppeth through." And
again, it is said, "I went by the field .of
the slothful, and by the vineyard of the
void of understanding, and 10, it was all
grown over with thorns, and nettles had
covered the face thereof,and the stole wail
thereof was broken down." The words
of Cato the elder are, in the proverb,
"that one who does nothing learns to*do
evil." Idleness has been described to be
a moral leprosy which soon eats its way
into the heart, and corrodes our happiness
while it undermines our health.
The Frankfort Yeoman. tells this :
"Once upon a time a young Kentucky
physician, who had been regularly ed
ucated for his profession, was called to
the bedside of a patient that he had been
attending with his best care for some time
but who obstinately grew worse and
worse, until now his end seemed very near.
"Doctor," said the sick man, "I am dy
ing—l am certain I am dying, and I be
lieve you have killed me." The doctor
seemed to think very earnestly for a mo
ment or two, and then quite gravely and
seriously replied : "Yes, I see that you
are dying ; and, on reflection, I believe
that you are right—l believe that I have
killed you ; but I here take an oath that
if God will forgive me for having uninten
tionally murdered you, I will never mur
der another—l will never give another
dose of physic professionally •as long as
I live." And he kept his oath ; he at
once quit medicine entirely ; turned his
attention to the study of law ; obtained a
license in, due course, and, after a • few
years' S'ithees:dul practice, became one of
the most ensilhent circuit judges of that
day'in Kentucky—now, nearly forty years
ago."
THE SECRET OF HEALTH. —First, keep
warm. Second, eat regularly and slowly.
Third, maintain regular bodily habits.—
Fourth, take early and very light suppers
or better still, none at all. Fifth, keep a
clean skin. Sixth, get plenty of sleep at
night. Seventh, keep cheerful and re
spectable company. Eighth, keep out of
debt. Ninth, don't set your mind on
things you don't need, Tenth, mind your
own business. Eleventh, don't set up to
be a sharp of any kind. Twelfth, sub
due curiosity.
how terrible to die unprepared. Yet,
every tick of the clock,and one soul some
where is launched into eternity.
Old truths are always new to us, if they
come with the smell of heaven upon them.
The last dead lock—the door of a I)ur
ial vault.
A Philosophical Darkey.
An elderly darkey, with a very philos
ophical and retrospective cast of counte
nance was squatting upon his bundle on
the hurricane deck of one of the western
steamers, toasting his shins against the
chimney, and apparently plunged in a
state of I rofoand meditation. His_dres,s_
an • appearance indicated familiarity with
camp life, and it being soon after the siege
and capture of Fort Donelson, I was in
clined-to disturb his - reveries, and on in
terrogation found that he had been with
the Union forces at that place, when I
questioned him farther. His philosophy
was so much in the Falstaffian vein that
I will give his views in his own words as
near as my memory will serve me.
Were you in the fight ?
I had a little taste of it, sa.
Stood your ground, did you ?
No, sa, I runs.
Run at the first fire, did you?
Yes, sa, an' would hab run soona had
I knowe'd it was comin'.
Why that wasn't very creditable to
your courage.
profession.
Well, but have you ne regard for your
reputation ?
Reputation ! nun to me de side of
ut-our=
Do you consider your life worth moth
hen other people's ?
It's worth more to me, sa,
Then you must value it very highly ?
Yes sa I does more dan_all dis world
more dan a million dollarsiTsa; for what
would (lathe to mouth to a man wid de
bref out of him ? Self preserbashun is de
first law with me, sa. • -
But why should you act upon .a differ
ent rule from other men?
Cause, sa, different men sets different
value upon derselves; my life is not in de
market.
But if
ou lost it, you would have the
satislat; ib - n — cirknowing that you thafor
your country.
What satisfaction would dat be to me,
when der power of feelin' was gone?
Then patriotism and honor are nothing
to you ?
Nuffin' Whatever, as—l regarded dem
as among de varieties.
If our soldiers were like you, traitors
might have broken up the Government
without resistance.
Yes, sa ; der would hub no help for it.
I:wouldn't put my life in de scales ginst
any gubernment dat giber existed, for no
gubernment could replace de loss to me.
Speet, dough, dat de gubernment safe, if
da all like me.
Do you think any of your company
would have missed you if you bad peen
killed ?
May be not, sa. A. dead white man
ain't much with dese sogers, let alone , a
dead nigga : but I'd a missed myself,and
dat was de pint with me.
It is sane to say that the darkey corpse
of that African will never darken the field
of carnage.
ARE You THERE, MOTHER.-A moth
er, busy with her household cares, was
oblidged to go into an upper room, and
leave two little children alone for a
time. So she gave them some books and
toys to amuse them, which answered very
well for a time. But, by-and-by the
house seemed to grow so still and lone
some; they began to feel afraid. So the
eldest went to the foot of the staircase,
and calling ~ith a timed voice, said :
"Mamma, are you there ?"
"Yes, darling," said the mother, cheer-
ily.
"All - right, then," ,said the little one,
more to herself
,than to her mother. So
she went back to her plays for a time.—
After a while the question was repeated
with the same answer and the same re
sult.
Oh, how often, in our loneliness and
sadness here in the world, we forget that
God still is overhead. But if we only
send up our prayers to Him, we shall
ever get a condoning and quieting answer-
WHERE WE ALL BEGET.---Composi
tion of a little boy, in the Bishop Scott
Grammer School,Portlandi Oregon.— Ver
batim et libertaini.
Oxen is a very slow animal. They are
very good to break up the ground.
I would rather have horses if they didn't
have" colic—which they say is wind col
lected in a bunch. Which makes it dan
aerouser to keep horses than oxen.
If there were no • horses people would
have to wheal their wood on a whealbar
row. It wood take them two or three days
to wheal a cord a mile.
Cows are useful to. I heard some peo
ple say that if they had to be an ox or a
cow they would sooner be a cow, but I
think when it come to be milked on a
cold winter morning I think they would
sooner be oxen, for oxen don't have to
raise calves—lf I had to be an ox or a
cow I would be a heiffer but if I could
not he a heiffer and had to be both I
would be a ox.
THE ACCEPTED LOVER.-Emerson
preached a whole discourse in a few lines
thus: "The accepted and betrothed lov
er has lost the wildest charm of his mai
den in her acceptance of him. Slut was
heaven while he pursued her as a star—
she cannot be heaven if she stoops to
such a one as he."
PoLL-Evth.—J. D.. Jefferson county,
N. Y., writes, I send you a sure remedy.
As soon as the sore is opened, wash with
Castile soap, clean; then take lunar caus
tic, and be sure to get in• to the bottom of
the sore ; leave it in six hours. Then
make 4 whash of white vitriol and rain
water, not very strong, stirring it bor.!'
oughly with the Castile soap, and wash•
the sore with it every morning. This cur;
ed a valuable horse. fbr me.
82,00 PER, YEAR
~~CI1ry~M~~~,~'~t~:~
Wit and ;tumor.
Why does a freight car need no loco
motive ? Because the freight makes the
car-go.
One of our We tern railrmulsi ga4 a
- maleeliieemo — tive engineer of the beautiful
blonde order. She makes the eparks fly.
If a sweet disposition does not come to
a lady by nature, it will come to her by
express—if the express brings her a new
bonnet.
- •
heard, of a secret which was Ea
big that it required all the women in tow . a,':
to keep it, and then then could not do Ku
without the help of their. husbands.
A colored preacher at Sparta, Ga:, some•
time ago was heard to say in a funeral
sermon of a deceased tkrudder : 'He rumi
nates no longer among us; he have exon
erated from the syllogisms of this world's
discrimination, and when he gets to de
cold dry stream of the_river-Jordin, the
Heiosmes and Periphens will meet him
dare to row him over on' dry land to the
silvestering city.'
A drunkani_Nvistagpring-islong
ingnt the top of_ his voice, "_Rock me to
sleep mother,rock me to sleep," when sud
denly a voice from the other side of the
street startled' lam by exclaiming, "I
don't know Oka rocking you to sleep
hut.l'll stone you to-death-if--you.-don't
dry up."
"Fred," said a father to his son, "I hear
that you and your wife quarrel and wrang
le every day. Let me warn . you against
such fatal practice." •
"Whosoever told you that, father was
totally mistaken ; my wife and I haven't
spoken to one another for a month."
minister at a colored wedding who
wished to be harmonious, said : "On such
occasions it is customary to kiss the bride,
but in this case we will omit it." To•
which the groom replied : "On such oc
casions it is customary to pay the minis
ter $lO, but in this case we will omit it."
A stip] yis told of a Virginia planter
who was missing corn from his crib. One
night he told a colored boy to set a trap
in the crib. The next morning the boy
came running to the house exclaiming,—
"Massa, if dare isn't a white fellah out
dare at de corn crib, shaking hands wid
dat steel trap !"
— Moon STORY.—The following good sto-.
ry, not before related, is told of ex-Secre
tary Seward, when a Senator from New
York, and Robert Toombs:. Toombs hav
ing made a speech in the Senate brimming
with abuse of Mr• Seward, the latter, at
its conclusion, walked straight from his
desk toward the enraged Southerner. It
was noticed that his right hand was under=
neath the rear pocket of his coat. There
was an apprehension that he was conceal
ing a pistol, and Mr. Toombs' friends
crowded around him. When Mr. Seward
reached' him, he drew out his hand, and
opening his snuffbox politely invited his
adversary, to take a pinch of snuff. "My
God," said Mr. Toombs, "Mr. Seward,
have you no feelings ?" "Take a pinch of
snuff, it will soothe your agitation." Ho
then returned to his seat, and with-out a
ny allusion to Mr. Toombs or his speech,
made an able argument in favor of his
measure, which was carried.
GOING A FISHING.—The folloWing is
an "order of suppleis" recently sent to an
American (Ga.) grocer, by a fishing ex.-
ciirsion party :
DEAR Six : Myself and a couple of
friend leave this morning on a fishing ex
cursioK, and you will please send us, by
bearer, the following articles, which, if
you prefer it, you can charge to either
Jack Brown or Ben Lockett. Either ,of
them is the safest :
Four pounds ofsalt and a small keg.
of whisky.
One pound of peper and a demijohn of
•
whisky.
Ten pounds of lard and a large jug of
whisky..
One canvassed ham six quart bottles
of whisky.
Three good, stout fishing lines and threo
pocket flasks of tip top good whisky.
One paper of large Limerick hooks and
a gallon of whisky in any old vessel you
don't use.
• Three fishing poles and three . canteens
of whisky.
Also, send one pound of sugar and a
small jug of whisky.
P. s.—As we will be gone several days,
and as snakes are bad on the river at this
,season, my physician has just stepped in
and suattested - that we had better take a
long a little Wliisky. Send it, and enter
it on your books v, ith other items above.
P. C.
It is not possible to ask a man to re—
turn borrowed goods, books, money, or
anything else, without putting in peril
the beautiful friendship on the strength
of which he fleeced von. He was a shrewd
man who said to his friend wishing to bor
row, "You and I are now good friends.—
If I lend you money and you do not pay
it, we shall quarrel. If I refuse to lend
you, I suppose we will quarrel. There
are two chances of a quarrel, and I think.
I will keels the money rather than run ,
the risk of losing it and von."
Ile had in mind the old' saw :
"1 bud my tudney and my friend,
I lent lay motley to my friend s
I tisked my money of my friend,
I lost my money and my friend."
: - *_lrtirliendoliara in gold, according to
the figures at the taint, just about
1103 tuna,