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,"