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VOIAM 26.
- GS elect OMIT.
BRIGHTER HURL
'Though dark the present hour may seem,
With sorrow; care and strife;
Though gladness may not shed her beam
Upon the sky of life; •
Yet fear not, for ainoidst the gloom,
One hope is ever ours—
'That joy may yet our lot illume,
And bring us brighter hours!
Droop not, but nobly struggle still,
For others look to thee ; •
And they would cease to strive with ill,
If thou shouldst conquered be.
in darkest night some star appears—
In wintm's hand some flowers;
.So shines Tor us in adverse years,
The hope of brighter hours.
With fearless spirit still press en- 7
Act thine allotted part!
_Life's high rewards wore never won
By faint and coward heart!
Keep on thy course and falter not,
Though the dread tempest lowers,
,But still, however sad thy let,
hope on for brighter hours.
.Caresimay be round thee.; doubts and fears
Thy trembliug.bOul oppress—
'Mourner! look upward through thy tears,
Thy Godisznear toblessl
Wheaihope'szearthly ray grows dim,
,A better light.is ours,
"Which leads us.o i li to trust in Vim
Nho gives us,brighter hours.
Slisallattroys Sending..
COTTERILL EXECEDO9I, 1819.
The folloWing account—says the Ha
gerstown Weekly News--we copy from. an,
•old pamplet o supposeing itmould be of in
terest to many or our readers.
William Cotterill, seur. and his elder
son William, were laboremand his young
er son John was, a weaver : ; they lived to
gether in a small town called Humming
ton, in Leicester county, .in England.—:
They . set out together fbr.this country, in
the beginning of the year 1819, leaving.
their wives and children in England. The
old man left . a wife and: son of about 17
years • his son William ,a , wife and two
children,
and John a wife and one child.
What their motive was for leaving them
in England„ could not be ascertained to
any degree of certainty; in short, these 3
sailed ;in, company with the deceased, Jas.
Adanni,and other passengers, in the ship
Ceres .rroin Liverpool for Baltimore, a
bout the end of February, 1819. Adams
the deensed, was from that part of Eng
laud opposite the coast of France, called
the "Lands End," and had a considera
ble sum of money, and a check on n nier
thantile house in Baltimore for a further
amount in his posession. It has been as
serted ; that he was a smuggler, but we
cannot-vouch for this, nor do we know
whether he left a family in England or
not
The three Cotterills made themselves
acquainted with Adams, and always ap
peared to be much interested for his wel-
Eire. After, their arrival in Baltimore
iii the latter part of April they all four
took lodging a in a boarding house, and
remained their a few days; t not being
able to procure employment, they pro
ceeded westward to Allegany county,
where they agreed with Messrs. Wood &
West, and set to Work together on the
turnpike on Thursday the 2Gth of May,
at which they continued until Saturday
es-Quinn. following , . Adams, believing
lie hairiest the check, which he brought
with him from England, determined on
Sunday morning following (the 9th of
May) to return to Baltimore, and searclf
lilt it, and in case he should not find it, to
guard against its payment, and then sail
for Engiand. The two younger Cotterills
proposed to accompany him as far as
Pratt's tavern, for the purpose, as they
said, of writing and sending a letter with
him to their relations in J 4 gland, and
leaving their father at the house of Messrs.
Wood tV, West, they with Adams started
down the road together. Between two
and three hours after their departure with
Adams, the two Cotterills returned, not
4. - long the road, but through the woods
having their pantaloons wet up to their
knees% On their approach to the house,
they were met by their father, who bad
been very uneasy, and appeared to be
greatly agitated during their absense. A
siort conversation took place in which
One of the sons was heard to say : "Fath
er, we have done it." When they arriv
ed at the house . , they immediately deman
ded their wages, saying they intended to
return to England, and in about three
quarters of an hour after, the three (fath
er and sons) set off, not along the road
but through the woods in the direction in
which the two sons had returned.
On the 16th day of May, the dead bo
dy of Adams was accidently found, a short
distance below the road, in F i fteen Mile
creek, in a drear recluse spot, where
man is seldom knowp to venture. It was
much mangled about, the head and breast
and the clothe s ne ar ly torn of, and the
pockets rifted.. lir. Wood, to whom the
whole affair appe are d ve ry suspicious, im
mediately determined to pursue tbe"Cot
terills,. whom he strongly suspected , t
Baltimore. But they had already engag
ed and paid for their passage in gold, and
put their trunk on board the ship Frank
lin about to sail for Liverpool. They
were apprehended, and on '
examining
their trunk, a part of Adams clothes; his
watch, and some other articles known to
have liblonged!to him, were . found secret
ed about the pylons of the Cotterills.-3
Under these cii culDstaucts ey were com
mitted to the Balltimorerjai , and shortly
removed to . Allegany con ty. for trial.
Unwilling, however, to be t ed there, they
requested a further remo Ito Hagers
town- where after a ihir, patient and im
partial trial they were severally . found
"guilty of murder is the first degree,"
and: on the 22d., of November, 1819
the Bo* John Buchanan, Chief Judge,
pronounced the following sentence over
them. -
SENTENCE.
•
Wm. Cotterill jun.. and John aterill,
you have been tried :,ccording to the laws
of the country, arid in a fill and impar
tial hear ing juric , of* ynhi own choice
have been found go lty of Murder in the
first degree, which imposes ion the court
the duty of pronouneav , the sentence of
the law upon you. - ‘
It is unneassary :o recapitulate, or
make any comments ca the evidence
tOiad
duced against you, wlLeit folded a case
of unparalelled atrocity,. a wassuch as
irresistably to force a full . onvietion of
your guilt on the most hnitcollling hand.
Your case is of :to ardi*ry character
but one which is curkeil with the deepest
die of the blackest depravity—a case that
pains the mind to dweltupon. James Ad
onis, the unfortunate victim to your foul
and inordinate cupidity, was a native of
the same soil that gave you birth; he was
your companion on the long and perilous
voyage, whinh brought you from the land
of your fathers to this ; strangers togeth
er iu a foreigi country, friendless and un
known; then was everything in ordinary
feelings of hu.aanity• to hind you to each
other.
But differ nt, far , different were your
views and fi jugs.
Possessed t the fatal secret that he bad
a coniiderab.,! sum of money in his pos
session, you practised every outward show
of friendshii, and attachment. You call
ed him uncle, were artfully assiduous in
your attentions to his person, and wicked
ly won his confidence only to abuse it.
'Forgetful of every obligation human
and divine, and discarding the common
.sympathies of man, you burst the ties of
country, often more strong than those of
blood, and in an ill-fated moment, perpe
trated the shocking crime, which has bro't
you to this bar. •
Without provocation, without necessity
and impelled by no motive, but a thirst
for gold, or love of crime, you deliberate
ly and inhumanly imbrued your hands in
the blood of your countryman, your com
panion and your friend. In vain should
we search for any extenuating circum
stance in your behalf—Not a mitigating
ray breaks through the dark cloud of guilt
by which you are surrounded, unless it
can be perceived in the unnatural coun
sels of your father=-And you.are doomed
to make atonement with your lives.
Wm. Cotterill, :en. I turn with painful
reluctance to your case—You, have been
found guilty of the shocking and, unnat
ural crime, of counseling and inciting your
own sons to the perpetration of a most
horrid murder, for with* they must soon
be 'brought to an ignominious and untime
ly Send, and ushered into the dread pres
ence of a justly offended and avenging
God.
You, who should have watched over,
and guarded the morals of your sons, and
instructed them in the paths of virtue,
have seduced them to the commission of
the'blackest crime.
You, who should have been their pro
tector and their guide, have urged them
to their deatruction. On the counsels of
a father hangs the destiny of his son.
And in the present melancholy and
distressing instance, your unnatural coun
sels have tweu but too faithfully, too fa
tally purstad.
1 forbear to urge the painful subject
further.
The foul doed i, done ; the blood of the
moldered orics aloud for justice; the of
fended majeAy of the law must be ap
peased, and you must answer it to year
God.
- The judgment of the court therefore is,
(and 1 de, ply regret, that I am imperi
ously callr,t upon by the outraged laws of
the country, tu . pronounce such a judg-
ment.)
Your scatence is, that you'all be taken
to the jai of Washington county, from
whence yoit came, and from thence to the
place of ea ecution, it such time as shall
be duly 4pointed, and that each or you,
be there hanged by the neck until you are
dead,
Having discharged the duty imposed
on me by law, I now owe it to my own
feelings, and it is d,uo to you, to assure
you of my settled conviction, that not a
ny of hope is left you on this side the
grave—a r lid solemnly to warn and intreat
you,
egrtestly and liligently to employ
the small remnant your livesin prep
aration (by prayer Lod supplication to
the throne of grace' , ,r the awful moment
which will separate von from this world,
a nd all its cares ver—And may the
t;od of mercy i n CO awsion to your souls,'
incline your hearts i that state of devo
tion, necessary to y it entrance into a
nother and a bettel • 4rld. '
EXEt
The 25th day of l'ebruary 1820, was
thet h
executionday
e
ofappointed '.
the governor for
il . ootterill, sen. Wm.
Cotterill,land Job; c o
' tterill. The gal
lv
l o ws was cted neat town, between two
hills, '• AChalf past :0, the unfortunate
criminals were placed together in a- wagon
at the :ail.door, acconpanied by the der
gYau, surrounded by a guard, they pro
ceexl,. vattwardly, saiging_solemn music,
t o the pl4ce of execution. During the
cereminmseveral hymns were sung, zit all
i~ !L{
A 1,41311 LY NEWS*APE I ~R--•DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWS. ETC.
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 19, 1873.
of which they appeared to join with earn
`estuess. Their conduct was manly and
composed, and they 'appeaied to be atten
[. five to-the objects around-them. An in
credible: number of tieople were present,
The Rev. Messrs...Jim:lz and A ]len first
'amended the platform. Mr: Allen deliv
ered au effecting address to the assembled
multitude, after which Mr. Kurtz offered
up an able and very appropriate prayer.
The three criminals then ascended, ac
companied by the Rev.-Mr.--Clay-,--who-al
so offered up an appropriate prayer, dur
ing which they knelt, and appeared to be
fervently exercised. The clergy, having
performed their duties, took an affection
ate farewell of the unfortunate criminals,
after which John, the younger son, rose
and addressed the multitude.
CONFESSION of JOHN.
He acknowledged the guilt of his broth
er-and-himself—that-they-Ind occasioned
the death of Adams and consequently
that they merited death, but declared that
his father was innocent. He admonished
the spectators to take warning by the ex
-ample about to be made, and refrain from
sinful practices as such practices ha d
brought him to the awful situation, in
which he then-stood,-he also exhorted them
to endeavor to become religious, as the
only means of ensuring happiness in this
world and the world to come. The fath
er was placed between his two sons under
the suspending ropes, and when they were
fastened and their caps lowered, the Sher
if took an affecting leave of them. They
all stood up with firmness yet a while,
and continued to pray audibly and with
continued fervency, until the platform
sunk, and at once put an end to their sup
plications and lives.
Parson Brownlow Heard From.
We extract the following passages from
a recent letter of Parson Brownlow to D.
H. Hill, late Lieutant General of the re
bel army, who had written an editorial in
the Charlott (.IkT. C.) Home. exulting over
the death of Gen. Canby, and attributing
his death, with that of Abraham Lincoln,
Edwin M. Stanton, Geo. H. Thorms, and
others, to at retribution of God, because
in the late civil war they opposed the ef
fort to .destroy the Government of the U
nited States:
Your assumption that the death of the
noble George H. Thomas by apoplexy,
and the sudden deaths of Lincoln and oth
er loyal men, are a retribution of the Al
mighty for the side they took in the late
war, could be inspired only by the malig
nancy born of disappointed ambition, and
the spirit which possessed the devil, the
founder ofSecession of a preferance to ru
lim4 in hell to serving in Heaven.
1 am happy in the e belief that many
thousands of the honest masses in Tennes
see, North Carolina, and elsewhere who
-were misled and coerced into rebellion by
just such men as you Gen. Hill, now repu
diate your leadership awl loathe your
teachings.
If I were disposed to imitate you I could
give a long list of men in civil and mili
tary life, supporting the rebellion, who
have came to sudden and, in many cases,
dishonhrable deaths, but I' prefer not to
do so.
You rejoice over my paralysis as a pun
ishment of God, because, as you say, I
"cast . my lot with the Abolitionists." I
recognize the hand of God in my ease, but
I regard Him as interfering in my. behalf.
Probably not one man in a thosand would
survive the exposure and hardships to
which I was subjected while driven by re
bel cavalry into the mountains and in
carcerated in a rebel prison in mid-winter.
While I tun now in improving health,
with a clear conscience, nearly all the
men who were instrumental in my impris
onment, and who insulted me while in
prison, are dead. Most of them died with
delirium tremens, or in some other un
natural way. I would not parade their
names before the world,. as you would, for
when God lays His hand on a man I take
mine off, and I mention the fact in defend
ing myself from your attack.
I have noticed that you and others,
who .have assailed Canby and Thomas
since their death, never insinuated a
charge reflecting upon their personal char
acters while they were living. To make
accusations against a man after his death
which you dared not make while he was
living, would indicate to unprejudiced
minds that you are a falsifier or a coward.
As to myself, I shall go on in the even
tenor of my way, and at the expiration of
my term in the Senate two years hence, I
expect to revive the Knoxville Whig, for
the especial benefit of men of your stamp.
I am, &e., W. G. BROWNLEW.
Knoxville, Tenn., May 26, 1873.
Alphabet of Short Rules.
Attend well to your business.
Be punctual in your payments.
Consider well before you promise.
Dare to do right. •
Envy no man.
Faithfully perform your duty.
Go not in the path of vice.
Have respect for your character.
Know thyself.
.Lie not for any consideration.
Make few acquaintances.
Never profess what you do not practice.
Occupy your time in usefulluess.
Postpone nothing that you can do now.
Quarrel not with, your neighbors.
Recompense every man for his labor.
Save something against a day of trou
ble.
Treat everybody with kindness.
Use yourself:to moderation.
Vilify no person's reputation.
Watchfully guard against idleness.
Xamitie your conduct daily.
Yield to superiorjudgement.
Zealously pursue the right path.
Why are clergymen like brakemen P
Because they do a good deal of coupling.
BViNINL
See the shadows now are stealing
Slowly down the mountain's breast—
Hark ! the turret bells are pealing
Cherrily the hour of rest.
Now the mellow daylight closes;
All the earth from toil reposes; •
Every breeze has-sunk and died
- 'Tis the peaceful Eventide. •
O'er the vale the mists are failing;
Chanting hive Ward wends the bee ; .
One by one the stars are peeping
Through the welkin tranquility.
Murmuring, like a child a dreatning,
Starlight on its ripples gleaming,
Thro' the meadow the brook doth glide,
In the solemn Eventide.
O ! h_o_w_s_w_e_ek_at.day!s_declining,
'Tis to rest from earth-born care ;
Gazing on those far worlds shining,
Dreaming that our home is there.
Though the shadowy gates of Even
Shut our earth, they open Heaven,
Where the soul would fain abide,
In the Holy Eventide.
USELESS WOMEN.
It is an unfailing theme—old as crea
tion—the faults of woman 1
No doubt Adam harped on rainy days,
when there was nothing to be done at gar
dening,. and perhaps he had some cause
for complaint, for every intelligent person
will adtnit that he was sadly. taken in by
that metamorphosed rib of his.
Now a days wherever you go you hear
the same doleful•story.
Young men are afraid to marry because
the young women are so uselse. All they
are fit for is to dress up like dolls, and sit
in the parlor, and thrum the helpless pi
ano.
Well, who is to blame?
Not the young ladies themselves, most
assuredly.
Somebody says it is their mothers, but
we don't think so.
Don't everybody know ' that the young
men of the present day want the young
women to be useless ? Don't they want
them to dress up and sit in the parlor
Don't they praise their unsunned fore.
heads and their lily hands, and admire
the sweep of their silken trails, and the
glitter of their jewelry ?
The pretty talk that We hear sometimes
about girls helping their mothers in thp
kitchen is beautiful on paper, but who ex
pects anything of the kind from a young
lady ?
Baking bread, and coddling preserves,
and sweeping, and making beds are not
conducive to white hands and delicate
complexions ; and when it comes to wash
ing clothes and scrubbing floors—why,
good gracious ! that is all !
Young men never go into kitchens to
watch their darlings make pies and black
stoves—anywhere out of novels ; they
don't want to, and the 'rls don't want
them to ! They all knoN that Maggie
looks like any scullion wit out her pow
der : and smut on the fa is not becom
ing; and sweat and st m will take her
hair out of curl; and strawberries and
peaches, however delicious they may be
to the palate, put one's finger ends in hope
less mourning.
Nu; the young man of the present day
when he calls on the young lady, expects
to sit in the softest corner of the sofa, awl
Maggie is expected to be dressed like one
of the last fashion plates, with at least
twenty ruffles on her dress, and a bustle
as largo as Sallie's or Jennie's, or Annie's,
or else she isn't stylish.
You just listen - a moment to the con
versation of our young men as they smoke
their cigars in front of their club room
and watch the ladies pass by.
"There goes Miss B. Deuced stylish
looking girl ; grooms her hair well ; dresses
in elegant taste; plays a tip top toe game
of ember, toe."
"There comes Miss C. Drab and wine
color; striking costumes ; got a handsome
foot, and not afraid to show it. By George!
a feller needn't be ashamed to drive out
with such a stylish looking woman 1"
When little Miss D. passes by in her
plain dress, with nobody's dingy hair on
but her own, and a lint - full a year behind
the fashion, all the "fellows" stare at her,
and make remarks about one's grandmoth
er, and Noah's Ark, and wonder Barnum
—isn't after her. Not oue of them.suys
anything about the fact that she is a sen
sible woman, and has spent her life in the
kitchen cooking and mending for her fath
er and a half dozen young brothers and
, sisters. And yet men are all the time
crying out that they want sensible women
for wives.
Why don't they get them, then?
The sensible girls of this generation will
mostly be old maids, because men go in
for the girls who giggle the most, who are
dashing, who sport the most false hair,
and who pad the most atrociously. And
really it has been so long since a real ,wo
man, as God made her, has been in fash
ion, that we doubt if the men of today
would know to what specimen she belong
ed if they should suddenly behold her.
Gentlemen say; "Oh, ladies ought to
dress with more simplicity !" and then
they quoth Paul, etc.
suppose you try the sweet simplicity
dodge, young radies, and go to a bail or a
party in the traditional scant skirted white
muslins with blue ribbons, and your hair
au nature/.
You will have the pleasure of playing
wall flower to the end of the chapter.
If anybody thinks dress is of nn conse
quence just let her get into a rail Way car
with a lhded calico gown, and an old
shawl, and a last year's bonnet on, all inen
will be reading newspapers. They will
be very deeply absorbed. 'Vie papers
that day will be particularly interesting.
Credit Mobilier or the last murder -trial
f'S•7rl. s,
farce will be especially fascinating. They
will sit near the end of the seat nest the
aisle. and never see you. You may stand
there with your arms full of packages,
and shift from one foot to the other, and
stagger against their backs at every lurch
of the envie until the crack of doom, be
fore any of these gentlemen, who are cry
ing out for plainly dressed, will give you
a seat.
Next day_youjust-go-and dms up in
your new spring silk, with its frills and
flounces, and your stylish Dolman, and
your charming Paris hat, and your deli
cate gloVes, and your floating curls, and
go into a railway car, and a half dozen
gentldmen will forget that a newspaper
ever existed, and insist that they greatly
prefer standing to sitting.
Don't we know? Havn't we tried it?
Qcnilemen,_reform-yourselveal—lf-you
really desire women to be sensible, encou
rage diem to be so. Have courage to be
polite to ladies who are not dressed in the
height of fashion. Don't be forever talk
ingi ab ut style. Show the ladies by your,
condo t that you want them sensible, pure
minde , and useful, and you will have
them s , for they will do anything to_please_
you.
Grains of Gold.-
He Who cannot abide the eorm With
out flinching, lies down by the wayside to
be overlooked or forgotten.
Watch ! the enemy is after you., , He
is lurking unseen along your path. Keep
your shield with you, for you know not
when his blows will fall.
The dominion of fleshy lusts stupefies
the understanding and deadens the Cor
al feelings. No man' who is under the
control of his appetite can be either wise
or good.
They who doubt the truth of religion
because they can find no Christians who
ure perfect, might as well deny the exis
tence of the sun because it is not always
noon-day.
Not to him who sets out early in the
morning with resolution and gallantry,
but to biro who holds out till the evening
of life does the promise apply, "He that
endureth to the end shall be saved."
Theigiost-firm - and stable earthly struc
tures are but temporary, anti the most en
during earthly posessions cTme to an end.
No one therefore should look to them as
his chief good, or trust in them for happi
ness.
If you cannot be a great river, bearing
great vessels of blessings in the world, you
can be a little spring by the dusty way
side df life, singing merrily all day and
all night, and giving a cup of cold water
to every weary, thirsty one who passes.
Many a man's days deceive him, they
pass away like a shadow by moonshine,
which appears longest when the moon is
lowest. You may not have but half a
day to live, when you think that you have
not lived half your days.
Of
many a young man to-day whose
life • irregular, if not flagrantly crimin
al, ft d friends are saying, "Oh, he is on
ly so 'lig his wild oats, indeed, but not in.
the sense intended, not in the sense of bu
rying,them, but sowing them as the terri
ble seed of a more terrible harvest. It is
false,Tarents, that such a youth has rich
promise in it. rt is false, young man, that
you can transgress great moral laws and
form 'vicious habits, and on arriving at
manhood cast them off as easily as you
can change your dress. The law is that
you will reap in manhood what you sow
in youth; that and not something else.
Dr. Franklin on Death.
We have lost a most dear and valua
ble relation. But it is the will of God and
Nature that these mortal bodies be laid
aside when the soul is to, enter real life.—
This is rather an embryo state, a prepar
ation for living. A man is not complete
ly born until he is dead. Why should we
grieve when a new child is born to the
immortals ? We are spirits ; that bodies
should be lent us while they can allbrd
us pleasure, assist us in acquiring knowl
edge, or doing good to our lellow-erea
tures, is a kind and benevolent act of God.
When they' become unfit for these pur
poses, and afford us pain instead of pleas
ure—instead • of aid become an incum
brance, and answer none of the intentions
for which they wore given—it is equally
kind and benevolent that a way is provi
ded by which we may get rid of them.
Death is that way. We ourselves, in
some cases, prudently choose a partial
death. A mangled, painful limb, which
cannot be reswed, we willingly cut Off;
He who plucks out\a tooth parts with i
freely, since pain goes with it; and !;'
who quits the whole body, parts at once;
with all the pains and diseases it was lia
ble to or capable of making.
Our friend and we were invited abroad
on a party of pleasure which is to last for
ever. His chair was ready first, and be,
has gone before us ; we could not conve
niently start together. Why should you
and I be greived at this, since we are soon
to follow, and know where to find him ?
The Visilia (Cal.,) Times says the big
gest tree in the Tulare County forest of
giants, is known as "Gen. Grant." It
measures 87 feet 6 inehes in diameter;
this would give, by ordinary estimate, a
circumference of over 117 feet. The read
er can imagine what an immense area
that would be, supposing a section of the
tree to be cut out and laid upon the ground.
It would afford ample room for a double
'cotillion, or if the same section were stood
on edge against an ordinary two-story
building, its upper rim would be above
the eaves i and well up toward the chim
ney-top.. The same paper adds: Mr. I.
H. Thomas informs us that in the forest
Reweah, there are at least one thousand
trees . as large as the "General Grant,"
and ninny of them are undoubtedly larg-
WHY WOMEN ARE DIELEMaZ:-Al.-
other reason of the delicacy of our women
is the - far greater style affected by all class
es in dress, and the wearing of. coursets
during early youth. Naturally, if one
has attained a full and fine physical de
velopment, heavy skirts,close-fitting boots
and weighty chignons cannot injure to the
same extent as when these appliances of
fashion axe put upon the soft and yielding
muscles of a young and growing girl.—
The noble ladies of England exercise many
hours daily in the open air. They do not
disdain to don heavy calfskin shoes and
colored petticoats, in which to perform
this duty. This, of course would not a
lone make theta as healthy as they are,
were not their constitutions strengthened
by a proper physical education before 1
they are eighteen years of age, but it suf
--fices-to-retain---the
health. Our fair Americans early in the
day attire themselves in charming morn
ing costumes, with white skirts; and then
they are averse to soiling these by exer
cise, and the least dampness deters them
from a promenade. American ladies think
far more of dress and fashion and spend
more-money and timeen their toilets-than
any women in Europe. not even except
ing the French, from whom all our fash
ions come.
MraCTJEN Is THE SYSTEM.—Prof. By
att delivered a lecture on mercury in
Vienna, recently, when he exhibited the
leg bone of a man whose death had un
doubtedly been hastened by mercury
On striking the bone heavily upon tin',
odt fell thousands of little glittering
globules of mercury-bright metallic mer
cury—which rolling about upon the black
surface before him. collecting-here-and
there into drops. This mercury had been I
absorbed during life, and undermined
the_man's_system,_ and-proved-fatal-t I I
him. The mortality among those who
work in mines of quicksilver, or in the
works where it is reduced, is known to be
frightful.' In the celebrated mines of Id
ria, the men work alternately one month
in the mines and one in the smelting
house. But notwithstanding this, it ap
pears that of the hundreds employed there ;
one-forth become salivated.
"I Bar YOU !"—There is scarcely any
phrase in common use so shallow and so
vulgar as this one, and none grates more
harshly upon the cultivated mind. .It is
the mark of an untutored intellect. The
person who has no better argument is per
petually offering to bet ; it seems as, if he
wanted reasoning powers, and therefore
he backs every ,trivial allegation with a
bet. This is an expedient; however, which
no rational person should resort to. A
company of well-informed and sensible
men will entertain each other with easy
conversation for a whole evening, and, a
midst lighter matters, settle many ques
tions in morals or in logic, without ever
so much as thinking of a bet. It is no
more ne3essary to reasoning than swear
ing or slang are to language, but, on the
contrary, disgraces it ; and hence, even as
a matter of taste, the sensible man rejects
it.
LOVELINESS OF GIRLS.—Do you think
you can make a girl lovely if you do not
make her happy Y There is not one res
traint you put on a good girls nature—
there is not one shock you give to her in
stincts .of affection or effort—which will
not be indelibly, written' on her features
with a hardness which is all the more pain
ful because it takes away the brightness
from the eyes of innocencence and the
charm from the brow of virtue. The per
fect 'evilness of a woman's countenance
can only consist in the majestic peace
which is founded in memory of happy and
useful years, full of sweet records, and
front the joining of this with the yet maj
estic childishness which is still full of
change and promise, opening always mod
est at' once and bright with hope of better
things to be won and to be bestowed.---4
There is no old age where . there is still
that promise—it is eternal of youth.
DOMESTIC HlNTS.—Bread and cakes
should be kept in a tin box or stone jar.
A hot shovel lice over varnished fur
niture will take out white spot*
Frozen potatoes make more starch than
fresh ones; they also make nice cake.
To select nutmegs, prick them with a
pin. If they are good - the oil will instant
ly spread around the puncture.
Do not wrap knives and forks up in
woolens ; wrap them in good strong parr.
Steel is injured by lying in woolens.
Two gallons of fine charcoal will purl.
fy a dozen hogheads of water, when the
'smell is so unpleasant that it cannot be
used.
Let young men wear old gloves, hat,
and coat, till they can honestly afford the
new. It requires uncommon courage, but
it will have good results. Men who are
schooled to such deeds of heroism will re
fuse to endorse bad hills, will not vote Ibr
scamps, nor kneel in the mud . to please
scoundrels who give lavishly what they
have gained lawlessly, nor take with . pride
the hard of a villain, however exalted.—
John.
A. servant girl wbo was sent a day or
two ago to a druggist in New York, with
a request that h should give her some
castor oil, "disgitised as much as possible"
was asked by the druggist if she liked so
da wafer, and replied affirmatively. The
druggist thereupon gave her a glass strong
ly flavored with lemon, with much oil
cast upon the troubled water. Noticing
that she lingered after receiving this, the
druggist inquired the cause, and was.told
that she was waitinc , for the oil. "Oh,"! Said an old man: —"When I was young;
replied the man of drugscomplacently, I was 1200 e ; when 'old I became rich; 'but --
"you have taken that." The starled.wo- ine4: . Iq 4, , ,: ao siditi o n I found disappointments, ::',..; • •
span, gazedtit him in dismay a moment,.• . the latinities of enjoyment - were . _ ‘----,
stntl then exclaimed, "Oh murder, I wan.„.:,_, :nt_Jr,hall-.;nct - the means; 7 - ibert.the- - : -,--• --
tett it for a man who is very sick" ' 1 ineunS'estisie.*;,fieoltics were gone." , r ' ~:!';'
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d
112.00PRIZ 'TEAR.
wit cudXiintor.
An excuse is • worse and more terrible
than a lie ; for an excuse is a lie guard
ed.
A physician advised Sidney Smith to
take a walk on an empty stomach.—
"Whose stomach?" he asked.
A little one of only six summers being\
asked what dust was,,said, "Mud with
the juice squeezed out."
A cotemporary speaks of a certain tai
lor as being one of the old war horses of
tfte trade- A heavy charger, probably.
The weather
neighbors to lean
arable now forferuale
the fen •
'cross'the way.
e peop
"I live by my pen," said. - an author.
wishing to impress a young lady.
"You look as if you lived in one," was
the reply.
'A Monson street man, says the Pan
-bury-News; has - rigged - up a very ingeni
ous combination of pulleys and ropes for
drawing up his wife's back hair.
• • Indiana lawyer lately defended a
man for keeping bis saloon open after 10
o'clock at night. He made the plea that
it was 10 o'clockuntil it was 11, and won
Ida
n oo mg over the exchanges to find
the biggest liar in the country it is found
that he is on the Des Moines Register.—
He says : "The rats in Webster City' grow
larger-than-cats f Und-it-is -said-one—blow—
from a rat's tail will split a cellar door."
Somebod
_having_applied_to -an-editor
for a method by which he might cure his
daughter of her pai tiality for young gen
tlemen,
is kindly informed that there are'
several-methods of reform.
.The best are
to put her in a well and drop a few bads
of gravel on her head, or to bind her an
kles to an anvil and 'upset her out of a
boat.
A skeptic who was trying to confuse a
Christian colored man by the contradic
tory passage in the Bible, asked him bow
it could be true that we were in the Spiv.-
it and the Spirit in us. "Oh," rep lied he;
"fiat's no huzzle bout dat. It's like data
poker; I put it in de fire till it gits red
hot—now de poker's in de fire, and de fire's
in do poker."
Waxen Is THE MORE UsEpuz,.—"Cm•
sar," said a negro to a colored friend of
his "what do yoq tink' ide most pseful
ob de comets—do sun or de moon."
"Well, Clem, I don't know ditlshould,
be able to answer dat questioii; seein' - as.
how I neber bad much book lifrnin'."
"Well, Caesar, I spec' de moon ortor
take de fast rank in dat partikilar.
"Why so, niggar ?"
"Because, de moon shine in de night
when we need de light, anti de sun shine,
in daytime when de light am ob no con
sequence."
"Well, Clem, you is de most yarned
darkey I eberseed. I guess you used to''
sweep out a school house fair a llbin."
' GONE BACK ON Tim DOCUMENT :A
short time since a colored man entered
the office of the Clerk of the county Court.
in Virginia and advancing tc a table
where the Deputy Clerk was busily en
gaged, be produced a marriage license for
-which he had paid the-legal fee a fir days
before.
"Boss," said he, pokinz th, license un
der the nose of_ the absorbedeputy.
"What's it?" vas -the iffipatient
sponse.
"Boss," continued the darkey, "De la
dy declines dis document, and I fotch it
in to git Inv money back."
It was a little consoling to the darkey
to be toll', some men went further and
fared worse, but when assured his nibney
could not be reamed, he turned hall&
nantly on hisdoublesoled pump.and mut
tered as he made his exit, "Ebery-body's
gone back on the document".
You ARE A Bractc.--11,. certain college
professor had assembled his class at the
commencement of the term, and Was read
ing over the list of names to see that'all
were present. It chanced that one of the
number was unknown to the professor,
having just entered the class. 4
"What is your name asked the pro
fessor, looking through his spectacles.
"You are a. brick," was the Bustling
reply.
"sir," said the proLctsor, half starting.
Jut of his chair at the supposed impe . rt-
Hence, but not quite sure that .he under
stood him correctly ; I did not ex
actly understand your answer.
"'Von arc a brick," was again the com
posed reply.
"fitis is intoirable," said the profes.lor,
his face reddening. "Beware, young Ulti
how ynu attempt to insult me,"
"Inqult v,ltt !" said the student, in turn
astonished. "How have I done it 1"
"Did yott not say I was a brick?" re
plied the professor with stifled indigna
tion.
"No, sir; you asked me my. name, apd
I answered your question. My name ire:?,
A. Brick-:-Lirinh Reynold Ander. , : . :ar • _
sou' Ot." .
"Akiandeeri!" murmured the professor(,
sinkinglinek into his seat with confusiopL., -
was irmisconeeptionbn my part., Wilt, • -
von 'commence the lesson,
Brick l"
NUMBER, 2