MY , BLAIR, . , A kAAlll l T,3slrol o .l4,l l pl.4o#l*E)Clieq, , l*44#ltE ? : LOCAL AND GETIMPLA.L . ' NE'W'S.
VOLUM 25.
Ailed poen!.
A LETTER TO SASTA CLAUS,
BY BIIILY HUNTINGDON )TILLER.
Blessed old Santa Claus! king of delights,
Wile are youOqingtheselong winternighte
Filling your rinig,t‘with trinkets and toys,
IVepilerfnl gifts,for : the girls and,boye •
Wale yon:are planning for everyttiing,niee,
Ilray,.let me give you a:hlt, of advice.
Don't•take it, bard, if I say in youx..ear,
you were partia
Loading the richlolks with everything gay:
Snubbing theimor ones who came in your
Now, of all timeßin the yearTl aid sur
This is the time t.p.remember the poor
Plenty. of . children there are in, our city
Who. have no fathers or mothers to -play. ;
Plenty of people whose working and heeding
Scarcely can•k:eep all their, dear i ones from
" needing
•
Now,•if I came,every yearin December,
They are the ones I would surely remember.
Little red•hands . , that are aching and cold,
You , should,h4ve mittens your fingers to
• hold ;
Poor little feet..with'your frost-bitten toes,
—You should be clothed in warmest of hose;
On the dart h - e - tirth 7 would.ig t,
Till the sad faces were happy andobright.
Don't von think, Santa, if, all your -life
• through,
Some one had always been caring for you,
Watching to guard you T by-night - and - brilay;
Giving, you gifts you could never repay,
Sometimes, at least, you wrml4l cioh to ca_
HoNv,many children have nothing at all?
Safe-in your quiet chamber at night,
Cosy and warm-in your blankets so white,
Wouldn't you think of the shivering form,
Out in the cold, and ihn wind, and the storm?
Wouldn't you think of the-babies who cry.
Pining-in hunger and cold, till they die ? •
Once on a•beautiful Christmas, you know,
Jesus, our Saviour, -was born here below ;
Patiently F tooping to hunger and pain,
So He might save us, His lost ones, from
shame ;
Now, it we love Him, He bids us to feed
All,His poor brothers and sisters who need
Blessed old Nick! I was sure if you knew it,
You would remember and cirtainly do it ;
This year at least, when you empty your
. .
•
pack,
Pray give a portion to all who rimy lack,
Then, if you chance to have anything over,
Bring a small gift to your friend,
Till TIDB DF DEATH,
The tide rolls on, the tide of death.
The never ceasing tide
That sweeps the pleasures from our hearts
And loved ones from our side.
That brings' afflictions to onr lot,
And anguish and despair;
And hears from youth's unruffled brow
The charms that lingered there.
The tide rolls on, wave after wave,
It's Swelling waters flow ;
Before it all is bright and fair.
Behind it all:is .woe.
The infant from•its mother's breast,
The gay and blooming bride,
Are swept away and borne along
By that resistless tide.
The tide rolls on, the soldier's eye
Grows dim beneath the swell.
The scholar shuns the mystic lore,
That he bath loved so well ;
The monaach puts the crown aside,
And labor's weary slave
Beloices that his limbs will know
The quiet of the,grave.
The tide rolls on ; like Summer's brooks
It &Meth to the sad;
'But like dark Winter's angry tide,
It rusheth to the glad.
From kingly hall, to lowly cot,
From battle field and hearth,
It sweeps into oblivious sea
The dwellers of the earth.
Roll on thou dark and turbidWavc, .
Thou can'st not bear away
The record of the good and brave,
That knoweth not decay.
Tho' fierce may rush the billow's strife,
Though dee p thy current be.
Still faith shall lift thy beacon high,
And guide us through thy sea.
Stistetlaucour) Patting.
Outwitting a Bachelor.
BY MRS. FLORA A: RALLY.
We were up to our ears house-cleaning,
amidst the noise and din ,we felt almost
as if it were necessary to hold on to our
heads, lest we lose them, as we seemed to
be losing everything else.
There were masons and carpenters down
stairs, and up stairs were paper hangers
and painters, while Bridget and her as
sistants were present here and there,
and everywhere.
I remember I had on a faded calico
and a huge gingham apron, and, with a
cloth in ri►y hand, was engaged in the,lau:
&Me pultuit of rubbing a window clean,
when I saw' John coming up the street
with my brother.
Nothing very serious in that, I hear
c 0 112 one say,
Well perhaps ; not, to you; • but my
.brother was the most fastidious of mortals,
and abhorred . house-cleaning above all
things else. He kept his suite of rooms
is a,certain hotel in a city East, and, when
it became an absolute necessity that they
.should be cleaned, he packed his valise
.and took a little pleasure-trip; coming
back' in' time 'to find everything the per
fection of good orderand,neatness.
Ent he was a handsome, broad-should
ered fellow, cheerful and good natured
and was proud of him--as I well could
be—,and mourned very much because he
mas,.,so wedded to his bachelor's life.
yc l u see, John and I 'were very. happy
together, and my pet drgam had been
that,brother Will would see me, and envy
us enough to,go and do likewise ;„ bUt - he
had • 't • uite
_otten overlis idea that wives
an ouse-c eaning invariably go together,
and : this visit—in the muss that we were
now—would effectually put an end to all
-drenming r and-strengthen Ails_prejuclice_
enad.
last year,
Nevertheless, I tried to see on y • e
best side of the matter, and gave him a
true .sisterley, hugging, that he returned
with interest, and for a minute or so,,in
our delight at seeing each other,. I doubt
if he noticed. he carpetless floor, the cheer
less walls, or the board that held mortar,
and the shayings 'and tools that always
accompany a carpenter.
Not five minutes after however. wbile
I Was reading a letter John had brought
me from one of my school girls friends
-I hadn't been married long enough'to
have forgotten them—l heard Will say,'in
that positive manner of his :-
-- "It is all very—well, John,for you-to
talk, now that you are married and can't
help yourself;' but, as for Pe, I would be
strung up. head downwards, an fed on
bread and water, before I 'would marry
the best woman that ever wore petticoats."
"It would-make-a-difference-ithe-wore
pants, I suppose ?"
• "Your let
my lady, or you would not find time to
interrupt us," he returned loftily. "As I
was saying, John, if I really could make
up my mind to marry any one, it would
certainly. be the inevitable Bridget, .who
could
,do her own work, attend to her
house-cleaning without any of my assist
ance, and never question my doings or
my goingslct them be what•or where
they would. or
or
"We can't forget, brother Will, that
,you do not speak from experience. Look
out that we 4n't cry `sour gra' es,' with
some reason," said John, with a laugh.
"Sour grapes, indeed! Well, say as you
please, my shoulders are broad enough to
bear it ; but truth, you as well as I know
that there is not onc, household out of a
•hundred but what have their skeleton hid
away—in the forin of trouble—that the
world wots not of."
"Possibly,. but Lizzie and I haven't
found our skeleton yet."
"Only two years married ! Wait un
til you can talk of ten or fifteen, and then
see if 'you can't find a skeleton to disturb ,
the'quiet of your conjugal felicity."
"You are a skeptic, brother, - don't de-'
serve a wife, anyway. I prophesy for you
a long walk through the • swamp, and a
crooked stick alter all."
He laughed merrily, as I started to see
if at least one room could not be made
comfortable for his lordship.
After tea, which was served in tolera
ble good order, considering the general
state of things, and John and Will - had
gone.down street, as men.always will of
an evening, I fell to' cogitating ogta very
perplexing subject.
My letter that afternoon announced the
coming of my intimate friend, Jennie
Janison ; and anxious as I had always
been to have her visit me, and especially
to Meet my ln other, I Was iu disniaY at
the thought of her coming now ; but a
moment later I concluded - that it Would
Knry CLOVER
be wiser to accept the inevitable with as
much grace as possible.
There was a sigh or two smothered, for
like all young housekeepers, I A'as desir
ous of having my home the perfection of
good order and neatness, with no jarring
in the domestic machinery ; but sturdy
common sense told me that everybody had
to endure house-cleaning at one time or
another, and if my friends chose to come
at such a time, they must accept the situ
ation as best suited to theni.
I had scarcely settled the matter in my
own 'mind when a cab drove up to the
door, and Jenny—fresh and blooming as
when we parted two years ago—came run
ning up the steps.
I was quite as glad to see her as though
ohe had been,. a sister, and told her so-o
ver and over again, while she pinched my
cheeks and assured me I was as rosy as a
girl, though I was an old married woman:
But all this school-girl gushing could
not Wake me long forget my carpetless
sad' dismantled home, and sitting down
We-a-tete. that was carenilly covered with
a sheet, to protect it from the dust and
dirt, I told her all about it, a little dole
fully it natty be.
"You silly goose, yon, as if I would
care. Why, Lizzie, we'll have some fun
out of this, albeit they say 'fun' is a low
word. That brother of yours deserves to
he taken down a peg in his skeptical no
tions, and lira:mine that we know how to
do it. You see, I be maid-of-all-work,
and your right hand -woman in general,
and we will make order come out . of this:
confusion in little less than no time.
"You!" and I looked at the elegant
gray poplin; that was ruffled and .be-pan
iered _enough to drive'a modiste mad,. then
at the nicely-fitting -gray - walking-boots.
the beautiful auburn hair with its curls
and its frizzes, the sweet piquant face, and
the'red, ripe lips, and laughed immoder-•
, ately.
"Laugh, if yon will, Lizzie Biermerton ;
you ought to rem ember school days enough
to know that what I begin I can accom-
W.ViNEISItORO:; 4'.; 4 ' :ClitriSTTY . ,:lq:, THURSDAY, DEvontß, 26,1.872:
!WM
tere-tinol
Set your (gra 'tot,Oittle
.woman. Will Heldberg shall never guess
that lam your beloved' friend. Dresti is
a metamorphoser, remember, and. when, a
woman will, she will." •
•
The merry girl dancA Out, of the room
slnging, and what could I do with such a
witch, only to wait and 'bide the' conse
quences ?' ,
If I had intimated•that my greatest de
sire was to see her and Will married, she
would have found it convenient
. to take
herself home again immediately, and Will
woul*et have stayed in the house a min
ute. As to this plan ' I was very doubtful,
but I was forced to accept it. ' .
"An' it plase you, ma'am, will I be of-.
they suiting the likes of ye 1"
Jezmy stood .before me metamorphosed,
indeed. Hei cdrls and frizzes were combed
straight hack and twisted in a littlt! knot
behind, and she. had purloined one of my,
cast-off-calicoes-and-an apron, two-thiTds
-as_large_as laerself; her sleeves were rolled •
' above ,her elbows, and a pair of Bridget's
eat er s Des r" -- leteo
leather shoes comp) ; - (1 - 47picture.
"Sure an' will ye give me an answer,
ma'am, or I'll :be afther 'gain'," Ole said
a little sharply, as I 'Persisted in 'laughing
at hei;droll appearance.
."Y•;:, I think you may stay?!
"Sure then; ma'am, what ahall,l s do for
yer
She had scarcely said it; when I heard
John and Will coming; and with• a quick
—"Remember, I am the newigirl, Jane'
Cleary,: and don't spoil. this fun for any;
politeness to Jenny Janiionr—she was
out in the kitchen entertaining Bridget.
before John and Will had fairly into
-the-house.
The next morning the:new, girl, Jane,
in clean white apron waited on the table,.
and I saw, with secret delight, ehat my
brother's eye kept following her as she
went to and from the kitcheir.
"Tha is
. a deuced Jae-looking girl of
yours, Lizzie ! Look out or she will rival:
-eQes—l—have—been trying all th -
morning to find out which is the prettiest,
mistress or maid;" he said, at length. dur
ing one. f her absenceirom the room. .
John of course, had 'been let into the
secret, but he kept his face admirably
grave, and I tried to• pucker up a frown,
and assured him that I thought be had
better things to do than co come here and
admire my servant girls.
As the week wore away, I began to flee
Jenny's bright eyes were not used without
effect, and, in her new character, she was
quite' determined to win my brother in
spite of himself.
I was. doubtful still, for, despite his
many. words to the contrary, I knew him
to be full of .family pride ; but when tho
masons. and carpenters had left the 'Mime,
and the paper-hangers were quite throti,gh,
he - surprised me by volunteering to stay
home and help Jenny and I put doWn car
pets, as John could not leave the store.
Jenny gave me a triumphant look,
which I dared not ,return, for Will was
looking straight into my 'face; but • every
part of my face was aching to laugh at
the sight of her comically oil face.
I tried to look severe, and kept scowl !
ing at Will but all to no purpose. Jenny
had been quiet, and inclined to be reserv
ed before, but had lain it all aside now,
and returned Will's sallies With interest.
• In truth- —though I knew her to be full
of life and mischief—l had never ken het
so bright , and wity before, and could not
wonder that 'Wi l .l admired her straight
hair, faded calico and all.
We boasted of a little library in this
new home of ours, and Jenny took it up
on herself to put this rcom to rights ; but
it being very high, we were forced to im
provise some steps in order to reach the
top shelf; and we did so by putting an
ohl-fashioned stand on top of a table, and
climbing to it by the aid of a 'chair and
another stand. .
I had use for the other stand, and took
it away, promising to bring it back in
good time ; but, being busy, I forgot about
it, and Will found her puzzling over the
mode of descent.
"I will help you down, if you will prom
ise to listen to a story I have to tell you."
"Thank, ye, I'll not make promises.—
Mrs. Biemerton herself will come for me,
after a bit."
"But Jenny, Jenny Cleary, don't you
know that I love you" (he had known her
only three weeks then,) "and want you to
be my wife !"
"Shure an' I don't think Mr. Heidburg
wants an Irish did for his wife ; he's jok
ing."
"I am not joking 'I do not care wheth-
er you are Irish, Dutch, orPanish, I love
you for yourself', and I want you.to be my
wife."
I- was just bringing the stand, and heard
so much, and I didn't think it quite right
to listen for her answer; but an hour af
tcrwards, when I went to call. them for
tea, .I. heard a sound something like a kiss
—only I wouldn't dare to say it was one,
but his lips were suspiciously near •her
own, and I was told that Jennie Janison
would be,my sister by-and-by, Bridget, or
not, as the case might be.
So I knew the, secret was out, and Jen
ny, with blushing cheeks, came down to
tea, her own dress, to receive my con
gratulations; and about Christmas time I
bad a mauve silk; and John got white
kids—you can guess for what.
That was five years ago: Will annen
ny keep house, and have two babies now,
and when we laugh at him for being out
witted; .he-turns around and says •Jenny
was caught_at her own game. But one
thing is certain he can tend babies splen
didly, and bears house cleaning like a
martyr; but he insists that his wife knows
how to clean house better than any one
else, for she made him love her while she
was doing the very thing . he hated ; but
I notice that -
some days ni lie eats
without grumbling in almost any conveni
ent llac; •
'"TOUB
•
, If you cannot on the ocean
flail among the swiftest fleet,
Rocking on the highest billows
Laughing* the storms you meet ;
You can atilnd'among the sailors,
Anchor4lyerwithin the. bay,
You can:fend•a hand to.help them,
As they Munch their!boat away...
If'You are too weulitcijoUniey
Up the mountain steep and high :
-You•can`stand Within the valley,
. While the multitudes go by;
N'ou,can chant in happy measures,
Asithey slowly pass along, , .
Tho' they may forget the singer,
They will forget the song.
If you have not gold and silver
y • command ;
If you cannot t'wards the needy.
-- Reach - an - ever open-handl--
You_can_xisit_the_sf .
O'er the erring you can weep,
You can be a true disciple,
- Sitting at the Savior's feet.
If you cannot in the conflict •
• Prove yourself a soldier true,
It where fire and 'smoke is thickest,
There's no work for youto do, -
Wien the battle field iR silent;
You can go with careful tread,
You can bear sway the"Wonnded,
You ban cover up the dead.
otTthenstimildly - waitisig —
For some greater work to do ;
Fortune is a lazy goddess,
She will never come to you.
Go and toil in any vineyard, '
Do not fear to do and dare,-
f you want a field of labor,
You can find it any where
Advice "to the, Girls.
We have charity for fast girls. We
have often found them generous and warm
hearted, and are full ready to believe that
their disregard of conventionalities is of
ten the boldness of innocence. Ftir ex
ample, in some families the chamber of
the sister is the resort of the brother in the
first place ; then of the cousin, who is al
most a biother, 'and then of the brother's
most intimate friend, who is treated as
one of the family. When this free style
of living is transtbrred from the shadow
of the, family to the apartsments, of a
crowded h.otel or boarding house, it gives
Occasion for much free speaking and free
thinking—fora style of judgment that of
ten does the girls great injustice.
We have said that our Americans had
their faults. The want of conventional
limits of propriety between the sexes is
one of them. The young French girl is
kept secluded, and never suffered to see
a gentleman unwatelied. In America,•
from early childhood, little girls and boys
grow up" together—and on the whole it is
best they should: But in order thatithis
liberty should produce good effects•, , pa
rents and guardians should incessantly
teach certain limits of propriety. There
are certain places, times and modes of
in
tercourse that are proper. There are cee
tain other places, times and modes that
are improper, and it ought to be a part, of
the early training of , every girl to teach
her this. Every approach on the part of
a young girl to any personal familiarity
with a young man, such as she mint most
innocently take with another girl, exposes
her to misconstruction which it was the
duty of her mother to prevent by timely
warning. ,
,A. favorite author has said that such
personal adVances, on the - part of women,
were "immoralities of manners," even if
the intention was inuocent.' So girls, take
care—respect:yourselves—respect your sex,
and do not give the enemy cause to speak
reproachfully. Listen, all of you, to what
a man says. It is out of some old-fash
ioned Father's Legacy, or some such an
tiquated book. He says : "A fine woman
has a power over us which she very little
dreams, but a little too near acquaintance
often dissolves the illusion and converts
the angel into, an ordinary girl." Let a
mother tell you, girls, that mothers, when
they send their boys into the great world
and its temptations, hope much from the
influence of gOod women.
Did you ever think of this when you
tell young men that you dote on !inkling
—when you urge wine upon them at par
ties ? Some mother, some sister, may wish
that you would lead her son or brother to
nobler, purer conceptions of life. Ought
not some higher motive to govern your in
tercourse with the young men of your ac
quaintance than merely ,the desire to fas
ten their admiration on yourself—to please
them at'any and every Lazard ? Be sure
that a young man who is pleased through
his lower nature, because, you encourage
his indolent and self-indulgent habits, and
take part with his least elevated impulses,
will think of you, by and by only as a
part of Something unworthy, which his bet
ter self Will seek to outgroW.—Mrs. if, B.
Stowe.- -..
Writing of Henry Wilson, Vice Pres
ident elect, - Colonel Boynton says : "He is
an exceedingly plain man—without wife
or daughters to do the honors of his home,
and being also a poor man, never having
learned "the ways that are dark and tricks
that tiie'vain," by which money flows in-
to the coffers of poor congressmen, he has
steadily maintained a style of living in
consonance with bis pecuniary condition.
Whether he will materially change this
when assuming his new role remains to be
seen."
It is very difficult to
. keep your own
peace of mind, if people thrust pieces of
thei- upon you. -
Woman.
The Christian Union says,: "It strikes
us.that society is ,so arranged that, the,
American. young, lady his a pretty easy
time of iecompared With her brother" .
- That is just what is the matter. Oar
society ia so arranged that .the young la
dies, are considered more asornamental
pieces of furniture, to be dressed and trim
med, and tucked and frilled, and paraded
for show,' thin as intelligent human be
ings, with minds and bodies to be eultiia
ted and improved. , . -
When young men arrive at their prop
er age, they seek some useful and remu
nerative occupation and strike out into
the world, boldly and independently, to
make a living for themselves,
When a young lady. arrives at sixteen
she becomes a walking advertisement for.
the milliner and dressmaker, and spendi
her own time' in tucking and frillir e' , and
trimming unmentionable garments that
_woubleostlesd, look neater, wear longer,
and ,wash and iron easier if made plain.
- ITU onlythis, but - tt►ey neglect - the - edii 7 m
cation and improvement of their minds,
to totinie,and money,tcHortnumentrth• - •.
bodies. We can name more than one.
young lady, who appear upon the .street,
and ,an society, decked out in all the glory
and style of the day, who cannot tell,lor
their lives; whit the clothing on their
backs' cost, if they have given them the
number of yards and, cost per yard, and
cost for making. • Ought not such girls
better be studying arithmetic, than learn
ing to dress?
What our American women lack more
-than anything else is, independence-i,
dress, ft matters not how ridiculous,may
be a certain fashion, nor how poor a man
-may be, hie wife and daughters must dress
in the same style and wear as good mate , .
rial as their wealthier neighbors. What
-if-it-doesmakeltwomanappearridictilous
and silly and, vain, "other people" dress
soanctsoaini I i , p.•
‘. '•c•
differently. What if the 'dry-goods mer
chant, the milliner, and the dressmaker,
have not been paid ; "you would not have
a lady go out dressed differently from any
other ladies, would you '1" Well, yes, we .
most decidedly would, and most other men.
would too. Men have mighty little res , ;,
pect for an overdressed woman, and espe-,
eiaily if they know her husband cannot
afford to pay her bills. They would res..
pect and admire her independence , if she
dressed ever so plainly; provided she dreSs-
ed neatly, and their admiration would be,
increased if they knew she ,never dressed
beyond her husband's or father's ability
to pay.
These girls whose whole time is occu
pied in dressing, cannot, of course, learn
much of household duties; and when they
marry- and they generally find plenty of
men who are fools enough to many them
—then their troubles have just commenc
ed. The first article on the list of house•
hold necessaries• is a "hired girl"—there
are no "servants" in the country,' and we
write from a country and not from a city
stand-point—if she undertakes to find this
necessary appendage to housekeeping, will
soon ascertain that "hired girls" are diffi
cult to obtain. Most girls are like her
self—know nothing about. work—and if
she finally finds one who has the necessa
ry knowledge, she is informed that girls,
"don't' hire out to do housework." Not
genteel! why not'? A brother works out;
on a fait: ; .another is employed' s& a sec
tionland on the railroad ; another .is a
smart, blacksmith or carpenter, but the
sister cannot work because it is not ."gen
teel." Offer her a situation in a store or
milliner shop, and she will jump at the
chance, because that is "genteel.'
It is perfectly right and honorable for
her brothers to hire out 'at anything they
can find to do ; but she can't do it. Her
bead is filled with false notions, and no
amount of coaxing or argument will
change her mind.
Girls, here is where you make another
mistake. It isjust as genteel and honor
able to cook a dinner as to trim a hat; to
wash dirty clothes as to measure tape be
hind a counter; to scrub a flooras to cut
a dress.
Any honest work is honorable, it mat-.
ters not what it is. The man who wheels
dirt or saws wood for a living is as much
entitled to resPect as the• man who prac
tices law or sells dry-goods for a living;
and the woman who does house work or
washes for a living•is more entitled to re
spect that:. the 'lady", who employs her
time in studying the fashions, dressing and
gossiping, and thereby deforming her
body and belittleing her soul and mind.—
Bradford Chronicli.
Spotrr COURTSIIIPS.-A geologist once
traveling in a stage coach in England,
happened to sit-opposite to a lady ; glen
cps were exchanged, and mutual admira
tion seemed to be the result. Eye lan.
gauage was soon exchanged for verbal
conversation ; after a few interchanges and
petrifactiona; they began to talk about
living subjects—from generalities to spec
ialities—from the third person plural to
the first person Singular. Bald the gen
tleman :
'I am still unmarried.'
'So am I,' quoth the lady.
'I have sometimes thought of marrying,'
said the former.
'So have I. the latter responded.
. Then a pause ensued.
'Suppose said the gentleman, 'we were
to marry one 'another--I would love and
cherish!
said the fair one, 'would honor and
obey: . . . .
in two days they were married. Few
will admire such a precipitous courtship ;
is is altogether too short. " .
Sir Thomas Brown says: ."Sleep, is
d'eath's 'younger bittlel", • MO
that I nevii'dare trdSt: him without say
ing my prayers," ' • '
Profanity.
The man whose tongue is ever ready
to give a round oath, is by no means tit
to be chOsen for a companion or friend.—
Yet'the vice of profanity is one of the,
time. Many individuals who rank as re
spectable members of society, think little
•of garnishing their conversation with pro
fane expressions and • strut about as if
proud of their vile habit.
Nov it is &rule of rhetoric that vigorous
expressions should be:sparingly used, as
a continual effort to :be 'forcible gives
sameness to the style,' and 'weakens it:
As a matter of artistic taste, therefore,
we should infer that a very small amount
'of profanity is necessary to invigorate a
man's conversation. .As a matter ofgood
morals,: we ; are, of course, forbidden to
swear at all. An oath thrown into the
speech of a man 'Whose *usual tone is one
of • Moderation, strikes us with startling
effect, while the talk of one wh'o'garnishes
his conversation with an embroider of
curses passes un eed .
-- There - is - a - perpetual-fusillade- of—mere
blank cartrige.s in the sha se of rofanit
:wearing so on y.wea . -
ens the effect of a man's conversation, con-.
sidered objectively, destroys the individu-
al's power of expression in the course of
time. -- A profane man; instead-of-stop,..
ping,to,analyze an opinion, and state his
regons for holding it, asserts bis conviction
with an oath whose earnestness is suppos
ed to supply' the place of argument.
Instead of selecting an appropriate ad
jective in praise of an object, or a .power
ful epithet in its denunciation, he uses an
execration - to expresshis feeling in the
matter. This course saves trouble in ran
sacking his vocabulary, and the, wortli,
grow rusty in the, memory of speech and
their uses are soon forgotten. A mind,
that is accustomelto profanity grows too
lazy for
iiiTtor thinking.
Oaths thus become syanbols for a num
ber-or(1-s;-itTI-for'promses-of-th-oughtii-
and in the end abridge a man's - capacity
of utterance if he depends Upon Mem. In
most cases, swearing is simply a habit;
but if a man would seriously reflect after
givinm b vent to some blasphemous expres
sion, he would assuredly feel his selfres
pect shocked, and endeavor to check his
course,ere he becomes deadened,to shame,
and utterly regardls of the estimatiOn
in which he is' held by others. .
Ages of Distinguished Men.
Although most of us have been accus
tomed to speak of Mr. Greeley as an old
man, yet, says the New York Times, if
we estimate his life by the standard which
often prevails among distinguished men,
we are justified in saying that Mr. Gree
ley's life came to a premature close. If
medical men are right in the opinion that
smoking is injurious, and that even mod
erate indulgence in stimulants tends to
shorten life, surely the absence of these
habits in Mr. Greeley should have tended
to prolong his days. It m,ust he remem
bered that Mr. Greeley was much young
er. thin many men whose names are asso
ciated with his own in American political
history, or who have.been on the stage of
public life during the whole or a portion
of his cancer. Mr. Seward lived to the
age of seventy-one, and Mr. Thurtow
Weed still dives at the age of seventy-five.
Mr. Webster was seventy when he died
and Henry Clay, to whom Mr. Greeley
was devotedly attached, was seventy-five.
Old Ben. Wade enjoys very fair healthat
the age of seventy-two. Mr. Chase is
sixty-two, and Mr. Sumner is only Mr.
Greeley's age. The, late James Gordon
Bennett was seventy-one
,•when - he died,
and Martin Van Buren was eighty. The
newly-elected Governor of New York is
older than Mr. Greeley by thirteen years.
If we look to other countries, and turn
to the men who have , led very active and
hard:walking lives, we find the compari
son equally striking. M. Thiers is sev
enty-five. ' Lord Brougham lived to the
age of ninctyrthree—no doubt an excep
tional instance; . brit the present Premier
of Eng.land, Mr. Gladstone, is sixty-three,
and his great opponent. Mr. Disraeli, is
sixtyseven—six years Mr: Greeley's sen
ior. Palmerston lived to the age of eigh
ty-orie,, and , the present Chancellor of the
Exchequer ; Robert Lowe, is only Mr.
Greeley's, and is expected to do a great
deal of hard night work, to say nothing
of his inc es sant attention to office duties
during the day. Mr. Greeley, then, can
not properley be described Lis an' old man.
A few days ago the inhabitants of a
country town in England . were filled with
conjecture at the following sign, painted
in' large capitals on the front of' a house
recently fitted up and repaired : "Mrs.
Brown, dealer in all sorts of ladies.". All
was consternation. Inquiry was instant
ly set on foot as to who this Mrs. Brown
might be, but no one could tell. She was
a stranger in the town. Thes econd week
. after the mystery , was unraveled. The
house,painter returned to finish his work,'
and Concluded by adding, "and gentle
men's wearing apparel."
A certain genial bald headed gentleman
while _ Pgris, went one. day to the Zoo
logical Gardens. The weather was op
pressive and he lay down upon a bench.—
Presently he went to sleep, and was soon
awakened by a warmth ahout the head.
An infatuated 'Ostrich had come along,•
and, mistaking his head for an egg, had
sentled dOwn with a determination t o
hatch it out.
In the Supreme Court Judge Blank
was speaking of the death of a mutual
friend, and remarked "He has . gone to
heaven." Judge Goldshorough unmea
lately replied :;"Then .you will never meet
him again?' "Well, well," Judge Blank
quietly answered; "yOtx will Pever be there
to decide on that - •
• MOO PER YEAR
i t and al it ntal.
Why is abu ,
Because he carries
Why is the• patpt for ladies' faces like
a fiddler's rosin ?
,They v.fs,both used is
drawing.a beau.
What animal could have dispensed_with
the ark? Why the dog to be sure, might
have set up a bark. .
‘! i r. )5., is your customer B. a man to
be trusted ?" "I know of no one snore so,
I He is to be trusted forever."
The Cieeinnati
~E4quirer has reduced
itemizing to a 'science. Here is a late ex
ample: Henry Layman, shoemaker, Terre
Haute, bed cord---.-jealousy.
A sChool girl was recently 'asked at ati
examination, by the clergyman, what Ad
am lost by his fall, and when pressed re
plied, "Isupposeit was his-hat."
It is said of a fashionable•lady, Who.
went to a party not long since that shl
arrived there about the first of the eve•
fling, but the last of her drs did not ar
rive-until 12-o'clock.
"Correct likeness of youtself sent and
,your fortune told." .. Young,Green
seer to the above advertisement, receives
a looking glass and is informed that he
can tell his own fortune by counting his
Money.
r""Sir" said one of the Barbury shore
tars to•a rusty old captain, "did you ever
know coffee to hurt any one?" "Yes,
you fool you," was , • the response :"I knew
a-bag-full-to-fall-on-a-mares-head-once 7
and kill him.",
College boys are so full 'of the mischief
that they ought to be spoken to. It has
just come to our knowledge that thelearn
ed and distinguished President Of one of
our colleges has been made the victim of
a practical joke which we are induced to
record with the expression of our regret
that the boys willdo such things. It seems
'that the worthy President went down . to
Virginia, where he was, personally a stran
ger, to attend an elcesinstical meeting at
which manreminent ministers , v. ere to be
piesent.., o,n arriving, he was surprised
to find that, after,
.making himself known,
no attention whatever 'was shown 'Limn,
and from certain ominous whispers', helm
ferred that fie was an object. of suspicion.
His position was embarrassing, and the
conduct of his brethern inexplicable. In ,
vain he sought to make himself agreeable
or useful, and when at last he was con
strained to make a formal demand, he was
informed that a few dayti before'his arriv
al a letter had been received from' the'
President of the College which ho profess, -
ed to represent, stating that, he should be ; ,
unable to attend, and that a man who was,
unfortunately out of his mind wasiravel:'
inft'around the country pretendingtcrbe•
the President-of the college,.and would"
very likely present himself, at the meet
inn.
The truth flashed on'the reverend Doe
tor's mind in a moment. He had been
"sold" by his students for a crazy man ;
some of the rogues having got up the let
ter and despatched it in advance of his vis
it. After much difficulty, with aid of
other letter in his possession, he succeeded
in dispossessing the minds of the breth
ren of their first implaksions, and he took
his seat as a member. Rut they kept a .
bright look out on hini all the while, lest..
the crazy should get the better of him.
Be Happy Now.
How old are yen.?. Twenty-five,? Thir
tv ? Are you happy to-day! Were you
happy yesterday? Are you happy, gen :
erally,l If so, you have reason tq, judge
that you,will be happy by and bv. Are
yeti so busy that you have no 'time 'to be
happy? and are you going to be happy •
when yeti are old, and you have not so ,
much to do? , No, you will not. You now
have a specimen of what you will be When
you are old. Look in the face of to-ddy.
That is about the`aVerage. -That
you what you , are.o.niug to be. 'What you
are carrying withyounow ig what you
will have by and by.. If you are so con- ,
ducting yourself* that you have peace with
God, and with your fellow men, and with
your faculties ; if every day you insist
that duty shall make you happy, and you
take as much 'time as is needful !for the
culture of your social faculties, you will.
not be exhausting life, and it will be con
tinually replenished. But if you are sav
ing everything. up .till_youxet
. to, be pn.
old mani habit .will stand like a tyrant
and say, , "You Would not enjoy yourself
before and you shall - not nor. How nin
ny men there are who have.grouud
ground•to make , money, that they might
be happy by and by, but who, when they
got to be fifty or sixty' years old, had Vq
ed tip all the enjoyable nerve that was in
them: During' their early life they car
ried toil and economy and frugality to the
excess .of stinginess, and NORA the time ,
came that they, expected joy, there was no
joy for therii.—Beecher.
If a man wishes to know the strength
of evil let h im try to abandon. it.
A great man is always willing: to be
little.-;—Entersoa.
LOye keeps no-books. It has no ac
cOunbi.- • . .
• Itis always florid tide in the eternl
pean.
Omnipotence romizflies k;*pgth,
n=ER.29
cart ljke his boots
.- calves there. ✓