fir• . . , 4,..5., A + . . • /. Ot- . • ..... 4 t , . NI ;• • •'.. rA' .0 1 . ... .. • • .-;,... •' 4 .1 4, t o f ' It St ..... . ' 0 - 1 . . 1...,, e . .. „ ~ 1 ~..... i • :. , 01('-..• I , . t.:. ••••„.. 2. 1. : ,, . _ , t , • „ ... . 4 . . . .2. .... . • ... • I, ~ L •,. 1 , . i U•S•' ' , ~' 1117,•" . , it. .% '''. • • , .. . ~--. • • ..7 . •••‘. :.•:' , 4 I •••• .I' , 4 7 . ' ' 'it4. • • , ...:. .".", .'...' :;i• ''',.., '. 1 ; , ' : • .. .. , • • •'. ~,, '..., ' -, .t •:'.' R '? ~• / ' • ...; - . • • . „ . • , ~, . „ " - _.___ _ • . , , . ). . • . . VOLUME 25. eft tVottrg. TWINKLING STAB. "Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are!" " 'Tis a sun far, far away, Givikg light to worlds all day." "Twinkle, twinkle, little star !" Were I in a railroad ear, Riding straight up to the moon, Would I get there pretty soon?" "Why, three hundred tedious days 'Would go by ere you could gaze On the pioon-man's shining face, ,Or his dreary valleys trace," should onward go, .Thirty miles au hour or so; To the „golden,fiqzzling sun, . How soon would IJo it come?" "Years Itwould take three•fif-two, Whirling through tLe heavens blue, • s_u - To • let passengers alight,' "'Twinkle, twinkle, lithe star; But if I went where .you are, 1 - 1 - awantreh - farther-must 7 l-rid - Through the universe so. wide! "Many million years you,'d be Traveling ere you'd come to me; Then the next bright twinkling star Would be full three times as far." "Oh! it takes my breatkaway, Little star ! 0 twinkling star ! I will-play they're angels-eyes- Peepipg at me from the skies." atliiirellaurops 'Sradinff. WHY HE DIDN'T. "But, Judge, you never told .me why you did not marry 11Eiss Van Horn. We all thought that matter was_ settled, but suddenly we were surprised by the news that you had married a stranger in the city, and Helen Van Horn was left dis— consolate. I wonder what has become of bier; she must have married well, howev er, she bad a fine chance to choose, for there was scarcely a good match in the city that was not at her command at one time." "Yes, yes," answered the gentleman ad dressed—Judge Hume, a distinguished, handsome, intelligent looking man of a bout forty-five years of age; a successful kwyer, %rho had some years before been raised to the judicial bench almost by ac :clam ation--"no woman could well have married better than Helen Van Horn.— "Why I did not marry her is a short, sim ple'story, .not without a moral ; and I 'will tell it if you care•to hear it. I have never told before, even to my wife, lu dicrous as some of its phases are. 6o take a segar—you will find it a s good one—and hear how, possibly, Helen Van Horn is not Mrs. Hume to-day : "You knew her father," began the Judge, ."and will remember that he was reported to be very rich. However, it turned out, upon his death, and after his debts were paid, that there was left a mere pittance tiff Helen, obliging her, the petted child ,of fortune, to live with extreme economy ever since." "Do you mean that she has never mar ried ?" asked his guest. "Married !" repeated Hume ; "no in deed ! .And in that may be seen. the moral of my story to which I referred.— But do not let us anticipate ; let us be gin at the beginning. • "09e evening, going to fulfill an en „reinent with. Miss Van Horn, as the tcrvant 'ushered me unannounced into the parlor, I found her engaged in an anima ted conversation with a singularly hand home young man, who, I saw at a glance, might readily become a fcranidable rival, and I felt for the instant a sharp pang of that unammble, disconcerting passion eal ousy. But as- my entrance had been un observed I was able to recover myself be fore'saying; in my blandest manner,`Good evening.” The gentleman started, and stiffly retnrned my bow. As for Helen, .with suffused cheeks she said, "Why Mr. Hume, I did not hearyou at all ; you are absolutely as gentle as a lamb,' ornewhat, angry'at her satirical tone, I observed that she was engaged in con :yersation and probably. did not hear me enter, and added that I had called to at tend her to the gallery to see the picture she was anxious about. "But really, Mr. Htime," she said some- what confusedly, looking from the stran ger to me, "I had entirely forgotten all about it, and so promised • Mr. Churchill here to accompany him to see 'Richelieu' to-night." "I glanced toward the stranger and he returned the .:lance with a slight frown on his face. I%liss Van Horn continued, "But oh ! I beg your pardon, gentlemen, I had forgotten you were not acquainted with each other. Mr. Hume, this is my friend, Mr. Churchill, of Richmond,' and she carelessly fell back into the chair, from which she had half risen for t4elo - "I am sorry Miss Van Horn has so treacherous a memory; but I hope, Mr. Churchill—with your approval—can be prevailed upon to defer his engagement, Tor I assure you the picture is a rare gem, and well worth seeing." I persisted in this, because I had become slightly roused by the indolent way of receiving the ho— mage paid her, and there seemed to be a gleam of triumph in.the face of my rival. "The young man looked at me gravely, then silently turned to Miss Van Horn for some expression of her wishes. He was evidently very much displeased at my interruption of their little Mete a tete, and was sufficiently , interested'in the lady to be seziously ruffled by my seeming rival ry ; he was not altogether_ pleased with the fact that she seemed as careless with. respect to her engagements, which did .not accord with his standard of women. He was a Well educated, comely young man t of good fortune, accustomed to be well re, caved by women. and yet—as he after— ward told me—he could not help for the moment some apprehension that the lady's choice for the evening might go against him, for you know I was called quite a lady's man in those days. "As for Miss Van Horn, she sat, mean while, demurely toying with a large tas sel suspended from the arm of her easy chair for a moment as if in deliberation, then exclainied : "Really, I am sure it inustbOverrivrono•in me to be so thought less, is it not ?", Here a captivating smile illumined hetheautifur features and par her bewitching lips, r just discovering Als, the pearly teeth bene p ath them, and she added, "Will you not settle the question, zentlenien,hetween_ynurselvesYr "The matter must be arranged in some way, and as I was the most intimate friend of the family, and my rival a c,ompara tive stranger, I was about to mo.gnani monsly withdraw my pretension and leave the deld, when, suddenly,there was—a loud ring at the front door, and Mis Van H-Prn started to her feet with the excla mation : "Ah ! that must be Dr. DeStul tus ! what an unfortunate, thoughtles girl I gm, for I do belive I am engaged to go to the opera with him to-night!" "That quickly settled the question in dispute between Mr. Churchill and my -self;and-with-a-common_impnlse_w_eJloth rose to our feet, smiled ataCli - dther pleas= antly, and with merely a hurried "good evening" to Miss Van Horn, J stooped for my hat which had fallen from hand in my surprise, and struck my head a gainst the. corner of the piano ' • Mr. Churchill rushed into the hall, almost upsetting the diminutive Dr. Stultus whom he met, the very picture of effeminacy and ultrg.-foppishness. "Descending to the sidewalk where the brilliant equipage of Dr. Stultus met our view, we .both simultaneously burst• into a laugh that seemed to break the ice be tween us, for we walked off together for several squares. As I complained of a severe pain in ray eyes from the blow I had received,my companion said. "I hope, Mr. Hume, you will pardon my recent rude persistence in my fancied engage ment with your fair acquaintance, and let us be good friends out of sympathy , for the denournent. As we are here at my hotel, let us enter and drink to the good fortune.of Mr. DeStultus." , "I gladly accepted the invitation and we were engaged In a pleasant conversa tion when a loud noise was heard in the street mingled with the cry of a woman in distress. "Suddenly starting. to our feet we rush ed forth to render. asistance. The first object that met our. i sight was Helen Van Horn covered with mud, but happily more frightened than hurt. Dr. Stultus was also in a wretched plight, but too much engrossed, as thight be expected from such a creature, with his own mis-• haps to give the least attention to his as-, sociate in misfortune, whom he left to struggle to her feet unaided, and to make her way to the sidewalk where her recent visitors met her, and where she hysterical ly explained how a huge truck. against which De Stultus' carriage had been care lessly driven, had left them stranded in the muddy street, fortunately and marvel ously, however, without broken bones. "Churchill called a carriage and we es corted:the wrecked demoiele back to her residence, at the door of which we con gratulated her upon her lucky escape, and bid her 'good night.' "My new friend then proposed that we should. drive at Once to the opera, whew he hoped' we might meet a party of his friends, to whom he would be pleased to introduce me, and in whose 'society we would - find surcrease for our disappoint nients in regard to „Miss Van Horn. assented. Churchill's friends were met as he had promised, and among them were two beautiful sisters, so attractive that they speedily drove all thoughts of a mere ly handsome girl, superficial and spoiled, like Helen Van Horn, out of the head of Churchill as well as my own. A charm ing evening at the opera ripened into a serious attachment on the part of Church ill and myself for these sisters, which end ed in our marriage, and no one ever had jester reason for saying, `There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough hew them how we will,' than I have! And now you know why I did not marry Miss Van Horn, and also bow .two men, for a moment about to be made enemies through the reckless, un scrupuloui coquetry of aninferior, eart less woman, by a happy stroke of fortune became-friends and brothers. "As for Helen Van liOrn, she still lives in single blessedness, and upon the mem ory of her many conqats, finding her chief gratification, for some years past, in recounting the various eligible offers she had refused, including always Churhill and myself among her rejected suitors. A. heavy speculation into which Dr. Stultus had been beguiled about the time of Miss Yall Horn's triple engagements for the same evening, resulted so disastrously for• him tbat her doors xvere at once rigidly closed upon that admirer, who disappear ed like a quenched meteor from society. Meduyhild - dccuyred the death of oh P:110/11/6•0" 441 , 1' it>iv -. );/11 . 4 ).!/-;?ffb 0 Ale) 4>o 111# 01 A 1 0 > i f ;ifl4 kill ;A )0 #KkrilIVA PACO *it -3 4 ;-/A PW Avi,-8r,4 __WA.YNESRORO 9 I _IILiNKIJN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 1,1872. Van Horn, which, as I have said, left the daughter no other attraction, than mere physical beauty, that had now' become so wed that it ceased to please marriageable - men, and she was no longer able to make three engagements for one evening. ''tier's him indeed been aJife of lost op portunities," Co-Education of the Sexes. 'The co-education of the sexes is a char acteristic feature of our common school system, in contradistinction of the Euro pean system of national schools. Every whet° in. the United States, except in a few of the large cities, the boys and girls are educated together in the public schools. What is the result? Are we ready to ad mit that in France, where the• boys and girls are educated apart, the standard of morality is higher than with . us ? Are wives and daughters purer ? Is woman more respected there than with us ? We are no believer either in celibacy of the clergy or. the separate education of the sexes. We were born and bred in .that benighted corner of the Union where common schools were first established, where they have since been nurtured and sustained, and where) men and women have been 'taught to think for themselves. Our pleasantest memories of school days are assocated - Witlithe bright-eyed-little girls who came to school on summer Anornings r bringing-Mavers-and=pe nies in their hands. We loved some of these pretty girls with the fulness of our boyish feelings. We have never forgot ten theffi. N obody ever informed us that it was dangerous to play with them, to - ramble with - them-round-the-pastures-af--. ter flowers and strawberries. No impure thought ever sullied our affection for them,' for no moral reformer had poisoned our mind with the notion that the boys and girls are intimately vicious. Bare-footed fanner boys were all of us, with tanned faces and hands used to toil ; and farmers' girls—xed-cheeked and bare-footed too, and dressed_in_homespun- tight us our firsch of faithllT-- Arstlessm faith - hr - the — purity - and-nOI-T1 bleness of . womanhood. They were our best, teachers. They made the old school house pleasant with the sunlight of their face, and merry with their ringing laugh ter. They softened our rpugh natures. We chose the girls we liked best at the spelling snatches, and never the worse for it. We hauled thegirls on sleds in win ter time, and slid on the ice together, and none of us ever thought of evil. Some of us even fell in love, and had dim notions, in sentimental moments, that away to the future we should marry some of these fa vorite girls; but the fancies were never realized, and they never did us any harm. School-master and school-Mistress were a like thrgotten : the old school house is in ruins. Two of the boys who sat in the school with vs, after `life's fitful fever,' rest in peace in California, where they found graves instead of gold. We turn in vain longings to the home-scenes which we nev er expect to revisit. The girls are all mar ried; our hair is turning gray ;-but we look back upon the past and feel devoutly thankful that our fathers and mothers and teachers had common sense enough to be lieve in letting boys and girls go to school together.' A Curious Argument. One of the old Fathers presents a cu rious argument in favor of the doctriu.e of the Trinity, running thus : ."The whole universe is modled upon and manifestly proves the Divine Trinity. Every great thing is true. Of intelligent beings there are three orders, God, spirits, and man. There are three abodes,heaven, earth, and hell. The heavenly bodies are of three classes, sun, moon, and stars.— There are three elements,, earth, water, and air. Man is triune in almost every respect. He is conposed of body, soul, and. spirit. His body consists of head, trunk, and limbs. Each limb has three members, upper arm,• lower arm, and hand; thigh, leg, and foot; and each limb has three joints. In his face are three features of sense, eyes nose and mouth; and three other features, fbrehead, cheek, and chin. His body consists of three' parts, -bones, flesh, and skin ; and the very cornering of his body is three-fold, hair s skin, and nails. Every tree and herb is three-lbld, roots, trunks, and bran ches ; is made of three parts, ark, wood, and sap; and produces three manner of things, leaves, flowers . , and fruit. Liv ing creatures are of three kinds, beasts, birds, and fishes ; they move in three ways, walking, swimming, flying ; and are of three orders of subsistence, carni vorous, herbivorous, omnivorous. We can not even think in an orderly manner with out acknowledging the Trinity, for every fit discourse consists of three parts,the ex ordium, the argument, the peroration.— There are three chases of savors, sweet, sour, and bitter. Actions are of three classes, good, bad, and indiilbrent, And so on throughout all the universe. God bath indeed everywhere written the proofs of the Divine Trinity that he must be fool or knave who denies it. Let him be an athema maranatha!" While we do not advance this .as a va lid argument, it is certainly curious. We do not believe that a similar array of co incidence could be brought in respect to any other number than three,—Harper's !Afonthly. The Spaniard 4 du not pay hyperboli cal compliments; but one of their admir ed writers, speaking of a lady's black eyes, says "they were in mourning for the murders they had committed." Themore earnestly you cxheirt your confident to secrecy, the nave likely he is To tell. To forbid Christians to read the Bible i s to interdict light to the children of light, Whom Great Men Marry. Robert Burns married a farm-girl, with whom he fell in love while they worked together in the plough-field. He was ir regular in his life,and committed the most serious mistakes in conducting his domes tic affairs. Milton married the daughter of a coun try squire, but lived with her but a short time. He was an austere, exacting liter al recluse, while she was a rosy, romping country lass that could not endure the restraint imposed uponher, so they sep arated. Subsequently, however, she re— turned, and they lived tolerably happy. Queen Victoria and Prince Albert were cousins, and about the only example in the long line of English monarchy where in the martial vows were sacredly observ ed and sincere affection existed. Shakespeare loved and wedded a far'- mer's daughter. She was faithful to her vows, but we could hardly say the same of, the great bard himself. Like most of the great poets, he showed too little dis crimination in bestowing his affections on the other sex. Byron married Miss Millbank to get money to pay his debts. It turned out a bad shift. Washington married a woman with two children. It is enough to say that she was - worthy - of - him,-and-they-lived-as married folks should—in perfect harmo- J • John Adams married the daughter of a Presbyterian clergyman. Her father objected on account of John's .being a lawyer ; he had a bad opinion of the morals of the profession. ' John-Howard,_the_great _lllanthro, ist, married his nurse. She was -altogether beneath him in social life and intellectual capacity, and besides this, was fifty-two years old, while he was but twenty-five.— He would not take "No" for an answer, and they were raarriedand lived happy together until she died, which occured two years afterwards. Peter the Great of Russia, married a - peasant=girl. — She-made an-exce and a sagacious Empress. Humboldt married a poor girl because he loved her. Of course they were happy. It is not generally known that Andrew Jackson married a lady whose husband was still living. She was an uneducated but amiable woman, and was most devo tedly attached to the old warrior and statesman. John C. Calhoun married his cousin, and their children, fortunately, were nei ther diseased or idiotic, but they did not evince the talent of the great "S tat e Rights" advocate. A Money Match. A recent letter from Boston tells this sad story : "A funeral posession passed by yesterday. A young man told me a story that I think has a peculiar sadness about' it. At Saratoga last season, at one of the largest balls, was a young lady with the most charming and facinating manners and graces. Her toilet was e qually as pleasing. She was the belle of the ball—an honor accorded her without dissent. Her attendant during the even ing was a young man dressed almost gau dily, and bearing himself with all the dis tasteful self-conceit of a brainless million aire. - He was the son of a Boston leather dealer. He met the lady at Saratoga for the first time last seast.n, and she, by di rection of her parents, who were also wealthy, sand who insisted upon the ar rangement, became his affianced. Previ ous to this she had met a young gentle man, also of Boston, of the utmost re spectability, of thorough honor and integ rity, ' but without fortune. To him she had been something more than a friend in fact, almost a betrothed. He was young, had risen by his own stern efforts, and was, it is said, posessed of sterling and promising abilities, which in time must have won him wealth and perhaps distinction. On the return of the, lady from- Saratoga last season her engage : ment prevented her from further inter course with her first suitor, and he was dismissed. His grief was pitiful. He strove not to reverse it by word or ac tion ; but the very efforts 119 so laborious ly made exposed the poignancy of his wounds. The lady lived with her hus band in the su.berbs of the - city at a large and costly residence for one month after marriage. By that time the abuse of the husband compelled an immediate separa tion, He was incontinently shipped to Europe, where he still remains, and the young wife was left to gradually decline in health until death ensued ; but not bea fore she had reproached her parents for driving her to the alliance which wrought such early ruin .and blasted such bright hopes and. expectations. As the funeral procession passed up a public street, the first lover, while watching with blanched cheeks and moist eyes the sad cortege, fell to the ground while suffering an attack of hemorrhage of the lungs. He was car ried into a physician's office near, where he died before the body of the one he so tenderly and truly loved was laid in its last resting place. GOOD ADVICE4—Speak well of your neighbors, or do not speak of them at all. A cross neighbor may be made a kind one by kind treatment. The true way to be happy is to make others happy.— To be good is a luxury. If you are not wiser and better at the end of the day, that day is lost. Practice kindness, ev?n if it be but to spell a word. Do not seem to be what you are not. Learn to con trol your temper agd your words.. Say nothing behind one's back that you would ,not say to ones fncte. A tigsirable second-hand argole—a young, ricL and aciiiable womtua, A Cedar Rapids editor envies the es sus for embracing 17,000,000 yggien. LOVES LINDIAEKS. There's something in the tireless speed Of years that o'er us fly, Which, though we give them little heed, Bring sadness to the eye ; Their flight so swift, their stay so brief, Their hast'ning to depart ; Their checker'd scenes of joy and grief, • Speak gravely in the heart. And love's landtharks, gemming thick Life's deep indented coast, Though telling loudly of the wreck Of hopes and treasures lost, Are aye,#ie brightest spOts,we see, As downlife.',o course we move— The gala-days of memory, Or festivals of love. Our birth-days-though like monuments They stand, to tell how fast • The scanty sands of life are spent, • Still ebbing to the last ; . Our birth-clays—howiwith greatful glee We welcome in trick morn, ; ' As if we held in simple fee The hopes that then are born. Our birth-days—chroniclers of Time; To warn us of his flight ; In childhood, youth, or manly prime, T ose ays are a ways • rig ; Then memor comes to visit love, Then love with fancy plays, And all the affections join to prove Those days the best of days. In Prison but in Luck. __The Jackson (Mich.) Citizen prints the o owing : Henry Miller, a drover, was sent to State Prison by to Recorder's Court at Detroit, in Febrary, 1870, for Grand larceny, for a term of three years. Miller says he housed his cattle one night on a farm in Wayne county, and the next morning his men drove an animal into Ike cars with his herd that did not belong to - hiniT — He - sold - itTand - was - arresti ed, and convicted as stated above. He had a father who was a millionaire living in Albany county, N. Y., but at his trial he neither applied for assistance, nor allowed him to be informed of What was occurring. He had a cousin with him, Charles Parker by name, from whom he exacted a promise never to write' o him cf to inform his relatives "of his whereabouts. Mr. Parker has faithfully kept the lat ter,portiou of his promise, as was evinced by a letter which .Mr. Miller received from him a few days ago. From this, which we have been permitted to see, it appears that Miller had sent his cattle to his father at Buffalo, and this was the last indication received by his friends to show that he was- living since his con viction; •He was literally dead in the outside world. His father became alarmed at his long absense, and set out to hunt him up. He traveled all over the world, says the let ter, and finally heard that his son was in California, took Parker with him and went there. Of course he was unsuccess ful, and returned home to die of a broken heart. Parker kept his secret faithfully and the old man died mourning for his lost son without a word of comfort or as surance to cheer him. He left all his property, some $900,000 in real estate and personal effects, and $BO,OOO on deposited in a bank, to his son, who by this letter, for the first time since his iucarseration, hears from his friends at home. Young Parker writes from Coopersville,this State where he is stopping a few weeks on bus iness. He will probably pay his cousin a visit before returning to New York.— Miller's time will expire in August, un less he loses a portion of his "good time." CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE.—The Lon don Globe publishes a statement which is an illustration of the danger of relying upon circumstantial .evidence, even when it !approaches positiveness. A gentle man went to the British Museum with a case opened, containing some valuable medals, for his inspection. He examined a particular medal, which was supposed to be unique, restored it to the tray, tnd after talking some time with the custo dian, were about, to leave, when the lat ter discovered that the medal was missing It was searched for everywhere, and could not be found, when it was suggest ed that the pockets of the visitor should be examined. 'Io this lie objected, and a policeman was sent for. • However, before he arrived, the medal was found to have slipped between the tray and the bottom of the case. When asked why he refus ed to be searched; the supposed culprit produced a. medal from his pocket, the exact counterpart of that which was in the case, remarked that his object had been to verity the authenticity of his own which being identical with the missing one and discovered in his pocket, would at once have convicted him of the theft. A POLITICAL RQUANCE.—This is the way in which Prof, Fawcett, the famous blind liberal member of the British Par liament, became acquainted with his wife. lie was at a social gathering on the even ing of the day when the telegram announc ed the death of President Lincoln, and heard from a girl of eighteen the excla maticn, "It would have been less loss to the world if every crowned head of Eu rope had fallen !" He 'asked to be intro duced to this girl, who has been his wife for five 'years, and is the most popular speaker and woman in England. A Detroit woman struck by 'lightning yelled "police T." , Nothing more unbecomea a heavenly hope than an earthly heart, Water drinkers are nQvcr drunk COINCIDENCE.—Newspaper workers run on "Coincidences" lately—for instance.— An Orange county (N. Y.) man cut off his forefinger with an axe recently. What makes this accident a curious one,' says the local paper, "is that his father met with precisely the same accident when about the same age." It is wonderful how accidents run in some families—how they are hereditary, as it were. We once . ewa_nuulwho_kno_cked his head a— gainst a door, and that man's son was ever afflicted with trouble of the head.— He was continually running it against some other boy's fist, and the amount of court-plaster which was used• on the scalp, the number of keys which were put down his:back to stop the flow of blood from his nose, and the quantities of oysters which were applied to his eyes to . reduce the swelling, were appalling to contem plate. We also knew another family, in which accidents were hereditary. A lady gave ' birth to a female child when she was fifteen years seven months and nine days old, and that female child was affio ted in the same way at about the same age—the only difference of account in this singular coincidence being that the child this time was a boy, so that - the ac cident can't very well be repeated. CATcniNG A TARTAR.—The Lock (N. Y.) Jaarnal says : _Diart,in_his_perara_b_ulatis port, very naturally dropped into one of the billiard halls of the city. While watching a pocket game and quietly smok ing his cigar, he was accosted by a pom pous individual with-the invitation, "Take a hand ? bet you five to one on .a carom , :ame_of_five hundred points." "Don't if Idi blandly vhcr. care i. .do," says Dion, blandly, whose name and station were entirely.,:unknown' to the profferer of the invitation. The money was staked, coats pulled off, and the game commenced. Certain persons who had been let into the secret by the knowing ones had spread the news abroad on the streets, and quite a crowd had got :together around -the-table, stretching their necks to See thefinale of the game. - Dion took the cue like a prince, and, with a smile ofmingled disdain and satisfaction on his lip, ran up, without saying a word 542 points ! Had his cue not proved de. fective, his friends say he could have made ,1000 easily. It is needless to say his opponent "wilted, and has not been seen in those parts since. A SHORT Smrox—Here is a lait'of philosophy worth reading. It is an ex— posure of a very common delusion. It is a good rendering of an old idea : "Two things ought to be strongly im pressed upon young people of our country. The insecurity of riches, even when ac quired, and the unsatisfying character.— There is no fallacy se universally cherish ed as the notion that wealth is surely a means of happiness. The care. of a large property is one of the most burdensome of earth's trusts. The only •material good that comes from an estate is to be made out of a moderate income far more easily than a large one, and with fewer attend ant disadvantages. Few thoughtful men' would undergo tLe entire stewardship of a large estate on a positive bargain that they should receive no more for taking care of it than ordinarily falls into the lap of the owner. The scramble for wealth is due to a wrong estimate 'of good when it is gained." Rev. Mr. Dye, of Fairfield county, Conn., was traveling through Western • Ohio, mounted on a tall, lank, raw-boned ani mal (a good frame to build a horse on,) when he came to the junction of two roads. and not knowing which might lead him to his. destinatior, asked a ragged, dirty looking urchin, Uhich of the two roads would lead him to W . The boy, in a rough anil uncouth manner, said,— "Who are you, ,old fellow?" Mr. Dye, being greatly astonished at the child's incivility, replied,—"My son, I am a fo.- lower of the Lord." "A follower of the Lord, ell ? Well, it makes mighty little difFerence which road you take, you'll never catch him,with that boss." A wife in Davenport, lowa,who wouldn't endure her drunken and abusive hus— band any longer, took advantage of his absence one day to sell out their house— hold goods and disappear with the pro— ceeds. The only article of household goods which she took along with her was the young . man who did the "chores" a round their little farm. She said she wanted something to remind het of her old home. • An original idea was lately started in Hamilton, Ohio, where a fee of twenty five cents was collected from all persons who entered the church to witness a wed ding. The money 'was given to the young people to start them in Ilre. It is only through woe we are taught to reflect, and we gather the honey world ly wisdom, not from flowers, but thorns. Sighs are the portion of the heart on In earth : praise will be the language of heaven. , False virtue is a sail that hides from us our sins. True hope isYnot deceitful. The just, sooner or later.tritunpli over the unjust. , A few vices will often obscure malty virtue's. Honey bees are winged xnerehartts— they cell their honey. Work is the weapon of honor. A full purse never lacks friends. It is Intter to be.,born lucky than rich "Mit any Xttmor. What object obtains the most smiles from a lady? Ans. The looking glass. What has the most 'followers and few est opposers ? Ans. The fashion. Why is a wise man like a mirror. Ans. Because the both reflect. A young lady recently discharged her boy r because he told her the wind shifted, What is that which flies high, lies low, has no feet, and yet wears• shoes? - Ans. Dust. 'The man who never alters his opinion is like standing water, and breeds reptiblip in the mind. `Dod 't tike too much interest in the af fairs of your neighbors. Six per cent. will do. A man out west is so great a miser that he uses only one eye at a time to save the other. - - Things are queerly connected. A late statiscian says if all our old maids should arry,_the _manufacturers of single bed steads would he utterly 'ruined. A man out West who has bed .divore-: ed from his ninth wife, is . recoitkniended. .to try a cast-iron female angel the next' ... time. • ns about Lock- • . . P °. The'folloliing congratulatory telegram vas ktely received by , a wedding pair : Tongratulation - s - on — yoift nuptials.—May v our future troubles be only little ones." A brick fell from a scaffold en the head of a passing negro. "Fling dim ere pea nut shells anbder way up dere, won't yet'?" was the reply. "That's Tery singular,": said a _young - lay to a gentleman who had justkissed her. "Oh, well, my dear Miss," he con— siderately responded, 'I can make it plu ral." A writer asks, in an agrieultural;paper, if any one can inform a poor •-mau the way to start a little nursery.:- Certainly; get marries]. a man is seen going 'towards a creek or river'with a NET, the sUpposition.. is that he is going "fishing for a purpose;" . ' so, when a young widower pays his re spects to, and gallants tuoung lady, it to be supposed he meaus'F'business." The. two cases are synonymous: • Little Nellie asked one day, very ab— ruptly, for some bread and butter. Her father asked her if she could not ask'pret tier than that, upon which she folded her hands piously and said,—"Please give me some bread and butter for Christ's sake." , robbers having broke into a gel;l 7 iliMan's house, went to the bed of the 'vent, and told him if he moved he was it' dead man. "That's a lie," said he for if move I'm sure that I'm alive." "Can you tell me Billy, how it is,that the rcoster always keeps his feathers so smoothe?"- Air.(...;:: "No!" ' --;,- ''F1 3 ;V,47," "He always carrieS, "rt v ~. • - ''',..- TiV'' r The mother of an unmankgetitqe , : 74, boy thus excused him to theliolieg: , --- "Sure, Patsy isn't a bad boYat but.: r he's only troubled with a rush amind to:: the brain:" . • A Terre Haute, Ind., paper speaks thus : "This is the bountiful year. The small fruit crop is immense, the wheat crop is huge; the oat crop is promising, and the baby crop is unparalleled." A Kalamazoo judge fined a reporter for appearing within the bar in his shirt sleeves. The reporter, however, proVed to the satisfaction of the.eourt that he had no coat, and the fine was remitted. It is a common trick of one of the prin cipal American Conjurors to make his wife suddenly disappear before the eyes of the spectators. If he could teach to oth ers husbands this trick of making wives vanish, he would have a fair opening for a fortune. A BIELTING OCCASION.—A Dutchman, the -other day, reading an account of a meeting, came to the words, 'The meeting then-dissolved.' He could not define the the meaning of the last word, so he look ed in his dictionary, and felt satisfied. In a few minutes a friend came in, when the Dutchman said, "Dey must have very hot welder dere ; I ret an agount of a meeting vero all de peoples melted avay.' Say what you have a mind to about. mules, they will have their own way when they make up their Mind to. In Louis ville, the other day, one of them kicked up behind, and after knocking, a pint of teeth out of the driver, he laid down in the shafts and went to sleep \yid' a smile on his face that was perfectly child-like and bland. A quitkeress, jealous °flier husband., watched his movements one morning and actually discovered the till:int kissing and hugging the servant girl. Broa,dbriin was. not long in discovering the face a his wile, as she peeped through the hall open door,, and rising with all the coolness of a gen, oral, thus addressed her ; "Betsey thee had, better quit p . eepiug„ or thee Will cause a, disturbance la the fat* !" Sub3criller far the 1;e:ord, $2,00 PER. YEAR