BY W. ELATE?. VOLUME 25. elect pottq, BAITING-BEYOND BY JANES F. !MARYS 0, tome one is waiting fel In the beautiful realms On the shores of Eden's Where all is perfection Life's river will soon heal Uniting the earth-brol 0, what would invite me When some on' is wail When - earth has so little . And heaven so much t( lVhen soni(one is waitim 0, why should' I shudd( How often-I-long-to-be-0 To_meetwith_thathear_t_ Fcir why should I wish tr When some one is waif The beggar, the homeless That worship at povert Will some one be waitiril Will they have a welccs Yes, tatters and rags are And unto each call w' Some other as soft and . • From someone that's w, I know not how soon de Perhaps a few dips of May carry me into that But though I am nearor Still ever by faith I cai •e_d one just over tho That's watching and waiting for me, ; If heaven is bathed in a flood Of-splendor,_of grandeur, of If one never longs for repose r And never grows feeble and old, Then why should I tremble at death ? 0 why should I ever despond? Why blanch at the thought of the grave, When so much awaits me beyond? alliscellautous Xradin.ff. Caught in His Own Trap. Lennox Ray sprang from the train just -as the June sunshine was dropping down :the .west in a flood of golden glory, and the air .was fragrant with the perfume of new-mown hay. and dewy with approach ing twilight. "Well, this is rather purer than Lon don air !" sighed Lennox, drawing a deep breath of delight as he hastened up the green lane to the widq, old-fashioned &rm. house, carrying his valise in his hand. "I wonder if Nannie got my note and is look ing Mr tne. Hallo !" This last exclamation was drawn from Mr. 'Ray's lips by a big, ripe cherry, which, descending from above somewhere, came into suddep contact with his nose. He looked up, and there perched like a great bird upon the bough of a huge cher ry tree, and looking clown at hint, with dancing eyes and brilliant cheeks, was a young girl, t.retty and wilful enough to net a man crazy. "How-do, Lennox? Come up and have some cherries !" was her mischievous greet ing, with saucy dimples playing about her crimson lips. "Nanuiet Is it possible ?"• exclaimed Lennox, sternly. "What! that the cherries are ripe? Yes, and splendid, too! Have some ?" returned the nymph, coolly holding out a great ru by cluster. "Nannie, will you come down from there!" said Mr. Ray, not seeniing to no tice the cherries. "Yes, to be sure, now you've come, and I lave had all the cherries I wanted." And while Mr. Ray luoked ou iu stern disapproval, the young witch swung her self lightly down from her perch, am: lit <m the grass at his feet. "Now don't look so -serious, Lennox, dear!" she said, slipping her little hands into his with a coaxing motion. "I know it's tom-boyish to climb the cherry trees, but then it's such fun." 'Nannie s you should have been a boy," said Lennox. "I wish I 'had Then I wouldn't have everybody scolding me if I happened to move. No, I don't either.; for then you wouldn't have fallen in love with me.— AT hat made you, anyway, dear 1" she said, with a fond „glance aud a caressing move ment. "Because you are a sweet darling !" an swered Mr. 'Ray, melted in spite of him self. "But Ido wish, Nannie, you would leave off these hoydenish ways and be more dignified." "Like Miss Ishman ?" asked Nannie. "Miss Ishman is a very superior wo man, and it would not hurt you to copy her in some respects," said Lennox, coldly. The tears sprang into Nannies eyes at his tone : she loosened her arm from his, and dropping down on the emerald grass at his feet, began to braid a bracelet of the long blades, in silence, with a grieved expression around her sweet mouth which be did not see. "There ?" cried Lennox, pettishly.— , oNow you look more like a five-year old :baby than a well-bred young lady." "Nannie threw away her bracelet .and got up again. "I didn't mean to vex you. Shall we go in ?" she said gladly. They went into the parlor, and Mr. Ray took a seat in a great arm-chair, while liginttie flung open the window and drop- ped, down on her knees beside it, Jetting her glossy culls fait in a great shower on the window sill; "Now don't do that !" exclaimed Mr. Ray, drawing a chair near his own. "Come liere,•and sit:down like a rational being. Nannie gave a rueful glance at the stiff= hacked chair, -but giving her curls a toss backward, obediently went and sat down. "I wish you would put up those fly-away edris-a-nd-dvess-your-hair-as-other—young ladies do," said Mr. Ray. "And see here, Nannic, I want to have a talk with you. go. The supper bell rang at that instant, and, anxious - to escape before the rest of the family came in and saw her tears, an - ad - hastily answered, ".Ye,s, let me go, Lennox!" and ran out of the room, and up stairs to her own chamber. They were at supper before she came down again, with smooth curls, and no traces of tears, but with a bright light in her brown eyes, and a firm look on her pretty face; and as she went through the hall out to the vine-shaded porch where the tea-table was set, she murmured, •"Yes, I'll go ! And I'll teach you one lesson, Mr. Lennox Ray. See if I don't. It was Lennox Ray's intention to join his sister's party in July, but his law bus iness prevented him. When Nannie re ceived the letter expressing his regrets, she only smiled, and said to herself, "All the better ! I shall have time to learn my lesson more thoroughly by September, Mr. Lennox !" It was nearly the middle of September before Mr. Gay, heated, dusty, and weary entered his room in the Scarborough ha tel where his sister's party was stopping. "Dear little Nannie !" he said, as he made a careful toilet, before going down stairs. "I am dying to see her, and I know she'll be glad to see me. A mo ment of her sweet naturalness will be quite refreshing after all these artificial women. They don't know I've come, so I'll just go down and surprise them." As he entered the apartment amid the flash of jewels and rustle of silks and lac es, he met his•sister Laura. "Lennox ! you here?" she said, giving him two white hands. "Yes. Where's Nannie ?" "She was on the terrace, talking with a French 'count, a moment age. Ah there she is, by the door." "Au!" said Lennox, dropping Laura's hand, and making his way towards the door. But it was difficult, even when he drew near, to see in the stylish, stately lady, whose hair was put over a monstrous chig non, and whose lustrous robes swept over the floor for a yard, his own little Nannie of three months ago. Lennox strode up with scarce a glance at the bewhiskered dandy whom she was chating, and held out his hand with an eager exclamation : "Nannie !" She made a weeping curtsey, and lan guidly extended the tips of her fingers ; but sot a muscle moved beyond what ac corded with well-bred indifference. "411 ! good evening, Mr. Ray." "Oh, Nanuie ! are you glad to see me r said Lennox, feeling his heart chilled within him. "Oh, to be sure, Mr. Ray—quite glad. Allow me to present Count de Beaure paire. Mr. Ray, monsieur." Lennox hardly designed a bow to the Frenchman, and. offered his arm to Nan rile. "You will walk with me a little while?" "Thanks ; but the niusic is beginning and I promised to dance with Mr. Blair." But afterwards,"said Lennox, the chill grow iugcol der. "Thanks again ; hut .1 am engaged to Captain Thornton." • "When, then ?" ,demanded Lennox, with a jealous pang. "Ah, realy, my card •is so full I hard ly know_ I will try to spare you a waltz somewhere,"—with an indifferent glance. Lennox bent down, and spoke with bit ter reproach in his tone, "Good heavens, Irannie ! What affectation is this?" She favored him with a well-bred stare. "Pardon ! I do not .understand you." And taking the arm of her escort, she walked away with the air of an empress. Lennox sought his sister. • "Laura, how have you changed lien nie so?" he demanded. "Yes, she is changed— greatly impriiv ed. Isn't she perfect 1" "Perfect? Rather too perfect to suit me." A AMILY NEWSPAPER---DEVOTED ' TO LirEitexp - ak, FOCAL - AND GENtit.4l. NEWS. ETC. WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1872. "To-morrow ; I shall see more of Nan nie l" he thought.. _ But to-morrow, and to-morrow, and to morrow It was always the - same, and, "that - elegant 'Miss Irving,'-' as they styl ed her, was always in demand. She play ed the rote of an accomplished lady, icy hearted .coquette to perfection ; and poor Lennox, from the distance in which she kept him, looked on almost heart-broken -var-ying_between wzath,jealousy,pride and - despair. "Nannie I" said he, one morning when f Id her alone, "how long is this to Lf_you_ain!t_pleased with the re- Jur own advice, I am not to YMT - must excuse me, Mr. Ray ; lg to ride with Count de Beau- afternoon, as Laura and Nannie dressing for the evening, Len d, unannounced, into Laura's where they sat alone. tght I'd drop in and say good you went down stairs," said he. u. London to-night:" Jevated her eyebrows a little. en isn't it ? But since you are ill give you some commissions." leedn ' t. I shall• only, stay in town or a ay. "Indeed ! Where are you going?" "Oh, I don't know," was his savage re l P Laura gave him a look of cool surprise. "At least you will take a note to George for me." "Yes, if you get it ready," said he, un graciously. "Very well ; I will write it now." Laura went to her own room, and Len nox stood moodily at a window. Pres ently Nannies who .had not spoken one word, came and stood near him. "Are you really going away ?" she ask ed. "Yes, I am," was the sharp answer. "And won't you tell us where F" "I don't know myself—neither know nor care!" he growled. She slipped her hand in his•arm, with the old caressing movement he remem bered so well, and spoke gently, using his name for the first time since he came. "But, Lennox dear, if you go away off somewhere, what shall I do?" He turned suddenly, and caught her to his heart. "Oh, Nannie, Nannie !" cried he passion ately, "if you would only come back to me, and love me:--if I . could recover my lost treasure, I would not go anywhere.— Oh, my lost love, is it too late ?" She laid her face down against his shoulder, and asked, "Lennox, dear, tell me which you love best, the Nannie you you used to know, or the fashiona b 1 e young lady you found here ?" "Oh, Nannie, darling 1" he cried, clasp ing her closer, "I vouldn't give one pre cious toss of your old brown curls for all the fashionable young ladies in the world. I 'wouldn't give one careless ring of your merry 'laugh for all the" polished belles in society. I wouldn't, my (Farling, I wouldol." Nannie laid her arms caressingly a round his neck, -and said softly. "Then I think you will have to take your old Nin nie back again, and pet her and love her as you used to do.; for 'I am as sick and tired of the fashionable young „lady as you can be, Lennox, dear. And Lennox passionately•clasping her to him, begged to be forgiven, and vowed be would not exchange his precious little wild rose for ali the hot-house flowers in Christendom. "Laura." Lennox called, tapping on Laura's door a little later. "Well ?" answered Laura. "You needn't write your note. I shan't go to town to-night." "Lennox, I never saw such a fellow to take fancies !" cried Laura. "Are you crazy ?" "No ; I have been, but I am coming to my senses now," said Lennox. * * * * * * Lennox and Nannie have been, sedate married .people several years ; but I never heard that Lennox complained in th e least of his wife's want of conventionali ty, or ever wished to pursue the acquaint ance of the fashionable lady whom he met at Scarborough. GOOD NEWS FOR SOME.—Better than all quack medicines is the invigorating Dower of the sun. Here is a bit of news for ball-beaded people. Says a. writer from the silver mines of Montana. "A friend of mine who had the misfortune to be bald-beaded, knowing that there is a wonderful invigorating power in the sun's rays, last spring •threw away his hat, and worked in the gulch .all spring, summer and fall, bareheaded, and also for the first few days at midday. For a few days the rays of the hot sun on his head were al most unbearable : after that time he ex perienced 'no uneasiness whatever. The result was that in the fall he bad a good head of hair. And in this experiment he was not alone—several of his acquaintan ces who were bald-headed having follow ed the same plan were fortunate enough to experience the same result?' mg is what to last ?" asked Nan !July. mg are yoti going to remain the nil creature you are ?" tve you wished me to come here re my manners, Mr. - Ray ; to elegance of society ?" she said, 'annie=--" sister thinks I have been an apt o apt, by heavens !" cried Len- h her sweetest, hollowest graceful gesture of adieu, and titTeananrzzlethard-disgust— 'Published by Request.- OPEN TEE DOOl. BT T. C. o'sexE. Open the door for the children, Tenderly gather them in— In from the highways and hedges- - - In:from the places of sin. Some are so young and helpless, Some are so hungry and cold; Open_the door for the children, And gather them into the fold. Cuoans.—Go, gather them in-- Go, gather them in,— For our biassed Savior Bids them come to him. Open the door for the children, , See ! they are coming in throngs ; Bid thenksit down to your banquet, . Teach them your beautiful songs ! Pray you the Father to bless them, Pray that His grace may be given ; Open the door for the children,— ' "Of Such is the Kingdom of Heaven." Open_the door_fothe_children, Take the dear lambs by, the hand ; Point them to Christ, the Redeemer, Welcome them into your band. Jesus .will gladly receive them, Quickly their tender hearts win ; 0 en the door for the children, And hasten to.gather_them in Delaware,. Ohio. The Habit of •Fretting. SOME WHOLESOME ADVICE BY A LADY. Fretting is both useless and unneces sary; it does no good, and a great deal of harm ; yet it is almost a universal sin. More or less we are all given to it. We fret over almost everything,ln summer because it is too hot in the winter because it is too cold ; we fret when it rains be cause• it is too wet, and when it doesn't because it is dry ; when we are - sick-or a nybody else is sick. In short, if anything or everything does not go just to suit our particular whims and fancies, we have one grand general refuge—to fret over it. I am arraid fretting is much more com mon among women than among men.— We may as well own the truth, my fair sisters, if it isn't altogether pleasant. Per haps it is because the little worries and cares and vexations of our dail" life har ass our sensitive nerves more then the ex tended enterprises which generally take the attention of men. Great wants de velop great resources, but the little wants and worries are hardly Ft vided for, and like the nail which strikes against the saw they make not much of a mark, but they turn the edges terribly. I think if we looked upon all the wor ries of one day as a great united worry, self-control to meet it would be develop ed. But as they generally come only one or two little things at a time, they seem so very little that we give way, and the breach once made in the wall soon grows larger. Now, I don't believe in the cant that a woman must always, under all and a ny circumstances, wear a smiling face when her husband comes home, or that she need to take her hands out of the dough or drop the baby on the floor, or run to meet him at the doOr. But Ido believe—nay, I know, for,i have seen it with my own eyes among my friends— that many a woman has driven a kind husband away from her, limy from home and its sacred influences, nd caused him to spend his time at a billiard table, or in a drinking saloon, amid ceaseless profane in fluences, simply by her ceaseless fretting over trifles which were nOt worth a word, much less the peace and happiness of home. I know that many a mbther has turned her son against her own sex, and made him dread and dislike the society of wo men, by her example set constantly before him. I know that many a mother has brought up and developed a daughter just like herself who in turn wreck and ruin the comfort of another family circle.— And knowing all this, my sisters—and brothers too, if they need it—l know that -we ought to set our faces like a flint a gainst this useless, sinful, peace.destroy ing and home•disturbing bath of fretting: How Dona THE LITTLE ..1111713Y BER.- One of the sweetest stories we have ever read is told by a Los Angeles correspon dent in the San Francisco , emerald. On the eastern slope of the San 'Francisco; range of mountains is a rift in the solid: wall about 160 feet deep, 30feet:10N - s een& 17 feet wide. For years it has 'been se lected as "the home of the bres,":and from the opening they issue forth' in &solid col umn one Loot in diameter. Hare the bu sz little fellows have improved the shi ning hours until they have stored sway, it is estimated, near ten tons of honey.— They guard their treasure jealously, and fight for it if any attempt is made by the vandal man to help himself therefram.— During the last four years th Bytave, by actual measurement, added fifteen feet to their store. As the climate is so mild that, at almost any season, flowers may be found blooming, they are not compell ed to feed upon their store, bat are con stantly adding to it. ' Be loyal to the nature you bear; con secrate your lives to every good and no ble work, faithfully labor for the elevation and perfection of our common humanity, and the angel will sweetly smile upon you, and you will be hippy, both in this life and that which is beyond the grave. Ifyou will be happy, you must do all within your power to bless others. By making others happy, you fill your own life with sunshine and happiness. Scolding Women. BY swnrrinuAn. It's a dreadful thing for a woman to swear, but 'it's worse to be forever scold ing. And if I were a married man, and must choose between swearing and scold ing habits in my wife, I should choose an occasional swear to a continual scold. But the pity is the men don't get the privilege of choosing. Instead' of this nine married women out of every ten are habitual scolds. It isn't the cares of wifehood, nor the trials of motherhood .that steal the roses from the cheeks. Oh, no ! It's the habit of scolding and fretting that . nine out of every ten wives indulge in. Of course you'll say that this is a mon strous falsehood, and call me a sour old maid, envious and jealous of my more for tunate married sisters. , I'll not deny that I'd rather be a mar ried woman than a single one, but as hea ven is my witness, I'd rather live an old maid to the end of my days than do as so many of my sisters do, marry and become fretful, scolding wives. nder—the—men—learn_t. _their_homes,and _gradually_grow_indiffern ent to the charms that won them, when so many wives forgit to be charming, and fret and scold whenever they cangecure a listener. There's care and vexation enough in the busy life of any man to make him mug ferreat attdqciiet at home. But to be met with a fretfulomplaint of his Mary Ann's daily trials every time he steps into his comfortable home is al most enough to drive any reasonable man to distraction. Oh of course I know. there is another side to this question, but it's not my pur pose to present it at this time. And in conclusion I've only to declare it to be the result of careful observ , ayi n that I have discovored the truth. The chief cause of so many married men ceasing to devote their spare moments to wife and home, is that the wives firBt cease to be attractive, and actually drive their husbands from their sides by their own unlovely behavior. And scolding and fretting at little things is the .most common and most unlovely of all. Blood will Tell. When Judge Marshall lived in Rich mond, his opposite neighbor was Colonel Pickett, father of the Confederate Gen eral George E. Pickett, of Gettystuirg fame. Colonel Pickett was a man of wealth lived well and was not content unless ev erything about his household bore the marks of good living. His horses were his pride, and were conspicuous every where for their splendid appearance, be ing sleek, fat and highspirited as.abun dantfood and excellent grooming could make them. Judge Marshall's horses, on the other hand, were notoriously lean and unkempt. Everybody but the JUdge had long remarked this. At last it was brought to his notice, with the suggestion that his carriage driver neglected the horses, sold much of their food, and appropriated the money to his own use, a good deal .of it going, no doubt, for liquor. The Judge called him up without de lay. "Dick, what is the reason Col. Pickett's horses are in such splendid condition, while mine are almost skeletons? lam afraid you neglect them, don't half curri them, and don't half feed them." Dick, not expecting an attack, was fair ly posed. He hemmed and hawed awhile till he could gather his negro wits about him, and then said : "John, look at you—is you fat ?" "No," said the Judge ; "decidedly not." "Well, look at old miss" (Mrs. Mar shl—"is she fat ?" "Den look at me—is •I fat ?" “ No. ” "Den look at yo' horses—is dey fat ?" ant:, "Now den, yoit jes' look at Kunnie Pickett. He fat, his caldge driver fat.— His - horses fat, his dogs'fat—all fat De taaof is, Mars John, fat run in de Pickett fam'ly, and it don't run in our'n. Dat's all." "Well," said the judge, after a little reflection, "there is a good deal in that. It never occurred to me before." He !turned back into his study, and Dick was ,never troubled any more. , A newspaper up in lowa tells of a sub- Igscriber who stopped his paper, and in less. than a Week was kicked by a mule. The :murrian broke - out among his cattle, and he lost one-fourth of all he had. His best :sow with a litter of twelve pigs overlaid mine of them. One of his horses, in jump :ing the fence, broke one of his legs, and had to be knocked in the head. His eld est child fell down stabs and dislocated its shoulder blade. , ' alis wife's best Brah ma hen fell into the well and wail' drown ed. That same old sow broke and destroy ed all the duck nests. The man himsslf was seized with dyspepsia, and everything :he eat disagreed with him. He could riot sleep sound at night on account of bad .dreams. Bunions came upon his toes and 'hangnails upon his fingers. And his good wife, suspecting the cause of all this evil, %went to the newspaper office and renewed ,the subscription again. A good joke is told of a Florence mer chant who recently took a trip to Canada. While taking dinner upon one of the Co median steamers, said merchant very inno cently took an egg, broke its shell, and emptied its contents into what he ,su ppos al to be an eup. After arranging it sto suit his taste, he raised the supposed , egg cup, when lo it was a china napkin sing. The indignation of the merchant and the mirth of the guests were alike .unmistakable. A Story of President Grant. Gen. Grant is said to be a bad man. Perhaps he is ; I don't know. If he is he has changed wonderfully since he left the army. As proof of this I will give an in cident which came under my observation : While our'army iay at City Point, on the James River, at the mouth of the Ap- . pomattox, in Virginia, my duties, as as sistant Adjutant-General of U. S. volun teers, called methere to consult with Gen eral Grant. One afternoon while•walking out with the,General, (he being in milita ry undress with nothing to indicate his rank) we passed a boy of 10 or 12 years of age, fishing. Grant—Have you good luck to -day? Boy— Not very ; they don't bite to-day. Grant—You have got a few here ; won't you give them to me? The tears started in the little boy's eyes, as he said : "I have had no breakfast, and no dinner, to-day, and if I don't sell my fish I shall have nothing to get a supper.' General Grant inquired as to his histo ry. The boy was a native of Michigan, and his mother was a widow. To obtain $• • fa - support his widowed mother, he - went - in to - the-army-as-a-waiter-for-a- Captain of the Michigan -troops,-whose name I cannot recollect. The Captain was dead, and he had not a friend left. Grant—Do you know where: Grant's headquarters are? Boy—Yes, sir. Grant—Bring your fish up there at ten o'clock, and he will buy them. Punctually at the time the boy was on hand, with his string of fish, but was promptly stopped by the orderly in front of the quarters. Gen. Grant, over-hear ing the order, stepped out, took the little fellow by the hand, led him into his quar ters, and becoming satisfied with the truth of his story, procured for him a suit of clothes, a.hat, a free pass on the railroads home, and gave him $5O in money. Now-Grant_may be a btu:Lim:l=llm not going to argue the question—but I don't believe you can make the mother of that boy believe it.—Ravenna (0.,) Dem ocrat. Varieties. • Kindness is stronger than the sword Oil and truth will get uppermost at last. Imaginary evils make no small part of the troubles of life. Grace and beauty are flowers from the rock of utility. Every one in some'point path seen clear er than his fellows. What ought not to be done, do not even think of doing. Passions are the racks that urge men to confess their secrets. No man has a right to do as he pleases unless he pleases to do right. A ship should not be held by one an chor, nor lite by a single hope. Liberty. without obedience is confusion, and obedience without liberty is slavery. Orititude is a duty none can be excused from, because it is always at oar disposal. The hand is the instument of instru ments, and the mind is the form of forms. Indolence is to the mind like moss to a tree; it bindeth it up so as to stop its growth. ' Life is the voyage, in the progress of which we are perpetually changing our scenes. Every branch of knowledge that a good man possesses, he may apply to some good purpose. The world would be more happy if per sons devoted more time to an intercourse of friendship. Courage, the commonest• of the virtues obtains more ap lause than discretion, the rarest of them. Wait for others to advance your inter ests, and you will wait till they are not worth advancing. Little wrongs done to others, are in their ultimate consequences, great injuries inflicted, upon ourselves. Success is full of promise until a man gets it ; and then it is like a last year's nest from which the bird has flown. To he free from desire is money; to be free from the rage of perpetually buying something new,is a certain revenue; to be content with what we possess, constitutes the greatest and certain of riches. A sneer is the weapon of the weak.— Lilts other evil weapons it is always cun ningly ready to our hands, and there is more poison in the handle than in the point. But how many noble hearts have been withered by its venemous stab; and festered with its subtile malignity. The best medicines in the world, more efficient in the cure of disease than all the potencies of the chemist's shop,a,re warmth, rest, cleanliness and pure air. Some per sons make it a virtue to brave disease, 'to keep up' as long as they can -move a foot or bend a finger, and it •sometimes suc ceeds • but in others , , the powers of life are thereby.so completely exhausted that the system :has lost all ability to recupe rate, and slow and sure typhoid fever sets in, and carries the patient to a premature grave. Whenever walking or working is taa effort, a warm bed and a cool room are the very first indispensable steps to a sure and speedy recovery. Instinct leads all beasts and.hirds to quietude and rest the very moment disease or wounds assail the system. *2,00 PER YEA R Ii IL :3 WA Mit and alamor. When does a er work a miracle When he turns his i erse to grass. "What are you doing?" said a father to his son who was tinkering at an old watch. "Improving my time, sir." Josh Billings says he-never knew a dog. of any breed whatsumever to take hydro foby after he had been thoroughly vacci nated with buckshot. It was once said of.a penurious money lender that he kept the trunk Containing the securities near the bead of his bed, and laid awake to hear them draw inter est. A gentleman who had been arguing with an ignoramus until his patience was ex hausted, said he didn't wish him dead, but he would be glad to see him—know more. It is rare that an open field is struck by lightning; yet it is no unusual thing, in harvest time, for a farmer to find that his entire crop of grain or corn has been shocked. A New England pick pocket has re•' cently accomplished the most astounding feat of light fingering on record. He has picked a Methodist minister's pocket and realized $lOO therefrom. A Debat . , Li don, "Is it w discussed the ques cheat a lawyer ?" In and mature delib ''as,-"nott wrong but, for the trouble." ,/ After a full discu' 4 _, eration, the decisio too difficult to payj A gentleman met another on the street who was ill of consumption; and accosted him thus : "Ah, my friend, you walk ex ceedingly slow."—"Yes," replied the sick man, `:but lam going very fast." , A lady who asserts that her opinion is based upon a close observance. says that men, as a rule, regard their wives as an gels for just two months, namely: a month before marrying her, and a month after burying her. A King's fool condemned' to die was allowed to choose the form of death, he chose old age. An lowa girl being asked the same question; remaraed that if she must die she preferred to be smotbered— with kisses. A gentleman was fretting about the loss of an overcoat and umbrella that had been stolen from his ball , and petulently said, "Besides, it's such a waste of the articles, for the thief is pretty sure to go at last where he will need neither of them." Once on a time a Dutchman and a Frenchman were traveling in Pennsylva nia, when their horse lost a shoe. They drove up to a blacksmith shop, and no one being in, they proceeded to the house to inquire. The Frenchman rapped, and called out : "Is de smitty wittin Shtand back," says Hans, "let me sepeak. Ish der blacksmith's shop en der house?" At length it is proved that a man has more vanity than a woman. This is tho way it came to pass : A curious investi- gator watched while a thousand men pass ed a looking-glass used as a sign on the sidewalk in'Broadway. The result of his observation showed that nine hundred and ninety-nine men glanced complacently at their image as they passed. The other man was blind. Four hundred and fifty two women passed during the same hour and a half, and none of them looked in the mirror--=-all being engaged intently examining each other's appearance and dress. An Irishman who was known to have a wholesome dread of the infernal fire, was taken by some of his friends, while intoxicated, to the glass-house, where they left him until about midnight to sleef) the liquor. The foreman at that time happened to espy him sleeping in the corn er, and thinking he Nis one of the work men, he walked over to him and waking him up asked what be had worked at.— Patrick, having, been waked xtp so sud denly, and seeing the light of the tires in full blast, thought he was in hell, and re plied to the foreman : "lowly mother of Moses, it's in limbo I am atlast ; well, Mr. Devil, I used to work at shoemaking in the other world, but• as long as you have me here you can put•me at what you like." A Frenchman, who knew very little of ' out language, unfortunately- got into a difficulty with a country-man, and fight , he must, and that,•too, rough and tumble. But before he went at it, he wanted to know what he Ahould cry if he found him self whipped- After being informed that when satisfied all he would have to do, would be to cry •out "enough," at it they went; 'but poor Monsieur, in his difficul ties, forgot the word, and finding his eyes likely to be removed from their sockets, 'be 'began to cry out, hut instead of saving -what was told him, he commenced bawl ing•l ustily : • "Hurrah I hurrah!" To his astonishment, the country-man kept pounding harder; when Monsieur, finding there was no use in Hallooing, turned and went to work in such good earnest; that it was not long before the country-man sang out in a stentorian voice: "Enough !" "Say that again," said the Frenelman, "Enough ! enoudi !" the countryman again. When the Frenchrosp in his turn ex claimed: "Bogar. dat Is do core viopl s4r . , try in' to say !on time ago,"
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