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I CAN OT CALL UR MOTOR., The marriage, rite is over, And though I turn aside • To keep the guests from seeing.., The tears I cdulit.not Mae, I wreathed my fiAce in smiling, And led my little brother To greet my father's chosen,' But•I could not 6,11 her mother.., She is a fair young creature, With meek and gentle air, With blue eyes soft and loving, And silken sunny hair ; I know my father gives her The love he bore another, But if she were au angel I could not call her mother. To-night I hear her singing • A sung I used to love, Vk.en its sweet notes were uttered By her who sings above; It wined m heart to hear it And my tears I couldn't smother, r er word was hallowed the dear 'voice of my mither My father, in the sunshine Of the happy days to come, Muy - hirlf - forget - the - shado That darkened our old home; H;s heart no more is lonely, But me and little brother Must still be orphan children— God can give us but one mother. They've borne any mother'; picture Irom its accustomed place, And set beside my father's A younger fairer Lice ; They've made her dear old chamber -- TIT I 4.) k •I ,? I , But I will not forget 1 bee, y .own—nry I I I o • itlictellaurous THE SAILOR'S REVENGE. The tiger frigate was homeward bound after a voyage of many months, (luring tvhich time matters, with some exceptions, had gone forttard very pleasantly. The credit of this evidently did not belong to the captain, for he was a surf•, drunken brute, d had amused himself during much of the voyage by approaching the - men unseen, kicking tinm and striking them with his rattan, and sometimes with son►e heavier implement. But the sail ors dared not rt omit even this treatment; and ter the sake of the second mate, who was a great and deserved favorite among then►, they here it in silence. Among the crew there was a young man by the name of Bob Manly. He was a noble fellow, a goal sailor, and a general iiivorite %%WI all except the cap tain, who appeared to have an esteeial spite against him, simply because he was a true man. One day Bob was seated below, when .one of his favurites by the name of Jeseph Alete if ; apprombed him aml said : Bob, the voyage is nearly over. By to-morroW night we may expect to:ice (Iry land." • "Yes, and I thank heaven it." "Why do you speak so earnestly, Bob?" "I want to leave the slip." "1 did not think you were in such a Lurrv." "But I tell, .you I am. I have long felt. an inclination to thiottle that dog; and then I saw him strike rtt to-day, Joe, I could scarcely ressraiu myself:" ` . oh, I don't mind. He is a drunken Least, and not worth noticing, corisidering that everything else goes along so pleas antly. '`i can't look at it in that light. He is our chief officer, and ot. - rht to be a gen tleman. If he should strike me, I—," "Oh, it is, not likely he would strike you." "I think it is very likely.", "Why so ?" "I couldn't help but frown to-day when the wretch struck you. He tabserved it, and though he did not say anything at the time, I could read his intentions at a zlance." "Suppose he should strike you, Bob?" "I believe I'd hurl him at toy feet and place- my heel lipon - his cowardly neck." "Then you'll swing from the yardarm." "I know it." "It would be hard to die - for such 'a man as he r " "True. Well, I don't know how I should act in case-of a blow. I never yet have received one, and I hope I never will. I could not endure the degradation. Why, Joe, I really believe if I were to be flogged on ship board it would render me a raving fiend' for the remainder of my life,if it did not kill me on the spot." • At that montent Bob was summoned on deck. Ile quickly obeyed, and set a• bout performing the duty devolving upon him wliVionitlacrity-ttal cheerfulness in keepinelfill) his character. He glanced quickly.around,:but ihe.captain was not to be Seen. • Suddenly Bob felt a violent blow upon the hoed. He staggered and fell to the deck. But his sense§ did not forsake Mm. He was satisfied from whence the blow tame, and looking op be saw the captain standing near him. to a thorrient Bob bad not the power to Move, or he certainly would have leap upon the captain like a tiger. As it was he could but exclaim, "Oh, you ac cursed brute! But I will be eves with you." 'rids' wad enoUgh. A guard of marines. ; Was instantly called; and. in a few mint ! Ines flitunt himself in ;irons: and a. Boy_at HIS - t been a sador,.for twenty years, had -sever received a blew. But now his hook had arrived and he must submit to that which he had always . '" believed would, be the death of him. The night passed slowly. Morning came, and the hours of dawn rushed on. Toward evening the crew were startled -by the dread summons of the • boatiwain and mat'etoat the4ipal hatchway —a 'stun - imps thatAl sends a shudder through eirery, manly beartin a frigate: "All hurt& tewituct3.s.punishment, aho y The cry-Appeared harsh and unrelent ing..-Jt pierced, every part of the. ship, and no heart but felt a dismal echo was there to be found save he who, claimed to be master there. In a short time the crew bad crowded around the mainmast. All must come. All wore sad races. ' Soon the officers were ranged on one side, and the captain, takiik his place a mong them, cried out, `'Master•at-arms, bring up the prisoner." All was silent as Bob was brought on deck, guarded by marines, and plaeed upon the gratings. . tain began, "YouTßobert-Ma • ly, are about to be punished tbr using dis• tcspe,tfal la-tignage-aud-threats-towa-r -your-captain.—Have-you got anything to say ?" "I've used no disrespectful language," - replied Bob in a firm voice." "What?" cried the captain, not call •me an accursed brute?" "I did." "And what kind ,of ....mi what k. call that ?" "Respectful to you." "How ?" "It is complimentary, for you are worse than a brute." The captain could hardly suppress his rage, but he did so, for he knew that his So he asked, "Did revenge was to come. you not threaten me?" "I do not recollect that I did." "Did you not say that 'yoti would be even with me ?" "So maddened was I with the bloW vou gave me that I might have said such a thing. If I did, I repeat it now, and 1 swear before my Maker that I will be a venged for the 'first blow you •gave me and for every one I receive now!" "Boatswain's mates do your duty," yelled the captain. "Stop an • instant," said Bob, calmly., Then he c‘ontitittecl, "Mates, I can't blame you fin. striking the blows, because vou must. Let me say in advance that tiOr give you fir it. But for you, captain, I say once more, stop this work or you will find it the bitterest of your life." "La) on, mate," yelled the captain. "My last warning." "Lay on, mate." . • Tho keen scourge hissed through the air and fell with a cutting wiry sound upon the mark. 8010 trembled visibly, but his teeth were set and no sound es caped him.. The first blow barely left a mark ; but as the successive ones fell, red ridges began to appear, livid lines of bruised and mangled flesh were drown, the muscles rose in knotted cords, and the whale of the naked body showed a livid and purple color. sixteou—seventecn, and the ridges broke, the blond poured down upon the deck. Twenty, and a groan—the first— escaped Bob. Then he cried, aithcugl► the voice sounded faMt, "Farewell, mess mates, threwell !" Twenty-two. Bob sank, only sustained by the rope - attached to his thumbs.— Twenty-three and twenty-four—did they not fitll upon the back of a corpse? "Cut him down," growled the captain, as he turned away. The order was obeyed. Every one ex pected to see Bob fall on the deck lifeless. But• not so. No sooner were his bands free than he bounded up and leaped toward the captain like a tiger. The officer drew his pistol as he detected the movement, but he was not quick enough. The wea pon was dashed aside by the frantic Bob, and the wretch clutched by the throat. Then Bob lifted him from deck as if he had been. a child. Nearly every officer rushed to the res cue of the captain, but it was of no avail. Over the bulwarks into the rolling sea went Bob and his persecutor, the wronged sailor still retaining his grip upon the throat of his inhuman foe. Afearful wail escaped the captain. Ef forts were made to save him ; but the crimson surface where the. two men dis appeared proclaimed all efl►rts useless. , The brave sailor felt that he could not live after such a humiliation. He resolved the villain captain should die. with him. That you may find success, let me tell you bow to succeed. To-night begin your great plan of life. You have but one life to live, and it is most important that you do not make a mistake. To night begin carefully. Fix :Your eyes on the fortieth year of your age, and say to yourself; "At the ace of forty I will be a temperate man, I will be as industrious man, a benevolent•man, a well read man, a good man, and a useful man. I will be sue% a one. I resolve, and I will stand to it." ' Live as lone as you may, the' first twenty years form the greater part of your life. They appear so when they are passing ; they seem to have been so when we look back to them, and they take up more room in our memory than 'all the years that succeed them. Never speak loud to one another, un less the house is on lan. .., . . . WAYNESBOROc„nAramNICONNTY _ ;Pk; MICIRSIII74_.NOVERBER 13, 1873. - • .. • . . . licSin'e - attei.Childreri; 'are ° Grown. - Nothing on eartlisgrork asfitst-as dren. It wasyesterday,,and that lad was . . . . , . , -,d-goire-tiow-i--liiifoot-isin the field,'.his hand is . upbn the'swOrd. is no. more childhood for him or,for us -- • Life has claimed - When atbegiuhig is made, it ie like a ravelling stocking—stitch by stitch give way; till all are gone. ' 'The house has not a child in it. There , is no more noise in the' hall—the bays, men—, it is very orderlf,now. ;,Tbere . are no more skates or slide, bate s r , :strings left scattered about. Things are neat enough now. There is no delay of breakfast for sleepy folks ; there is no longer any talk before yop•lie dolvn, of looking after anybody and tuck ing up the bed clothes. There are no dis pules tdsettle, nobody to get off to school, no complaints, no importunities for im possible things; no rips to mend, no finger to tie up, no faces to be washed, or collars _to be_arranged_;_there_was_never such peace in the house I It would sound like music to have some feet clatter down the trout stairs! Oh, for some children's noise! What used to ail us that we were hush:, ing their hind laugh, checking,ih c ir noisy frolics, and reproving their slaming and banging the doors ! Nfirevish our neigh= boys woult only lend us an urchin or two o nu e a *trie noise in these prelim. A house without children ! It is like a lantern and no sandal !—a vine and no grapes !—a brook with no water gurgling and rushing in its channel! We want—to be tired, to be vexed, to be run over, to hear child life at work with all its varie ties. "did you During the secular days this is enough marked.' But it is Sunday that puts an American house to proof. This is the Christian family day. The intervals of public worship are long spaces of peace. file family seems made up on that day. The children are at home. • You can lay your hand on their heads. They seem to recoznize the greater and the less love— to God and to friends. The house is peace ful, but not still. There is a low, melo dious thrill of children in it. But Sun day comes too still now. There is silence Unit aches in the ear. There is too much room at the table, too_ much at the hearth. The bed rooms are a world too orderly. There is too much leisure, and too little care. • angunge Alas! what means these things ? Is somebody giowine old ? Are these signs and tokens ? Is life wanting? PAY YOUR SHALL BlLLB.—There is one evil resulting from the panic which though comparatively small in itself has a serious effect upon local trade. It is the tendency of people generally to get all they can and to keep all, they get. A, B and C each owe D $5. The amount is small but if they would make the eat io settle it would enable D to pay E $l5 and E in return might close accounts with F who would then liquidate his little in debtedness to A, B and C. Thus the thing works in a circle and by mutual ef fort at accomodation all are relieved. $5 seems like a small sum—but when one lacks just that,amount to keep a, note from going to protest and can't get it, the figure assumes huge proportions. There are some yam take advantage of the cry of "panic" to avoid paying small bills.— With such, of course, argument is useless but there are many who thoughtlessly neglect to settle small accounts which they are abundantly able to do, that may make a note of this and go to bed with a clear conscience, feeling that they have done all they could—and that is as much as can he asked—to "'relieve the stringency in the money market." HOW,,,LONG AND HOW MANY.--HOW long do you think it took to write the Bi ble? Fifteen hundred years. From Mo ses, who wrote Genesis, to St. John, who wrote Revelations, it was that long, long time. How many people helped to write it? More than thirty. There were Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Paul and Peter.— ['here were Moses, Ezra, David, Daniel, and Samuel. Some wee shepherds, some farmers, some fisherman, some tent ma kers, some kings, some judges, some prin ces ; some were learned, and some were unlearned ; and yet they all agree in what they write. There is not so much as a word of diSagreement in the whole book. How could that be ? Because God did the thinking of the Bible. Thizthoughts in the Bible, are all God's thoughts. Those thirty men only did the writing. They wrote just what God tald them.— How many different sections of books are there in the Bible? Sixty-six, all bound together, making one beautiful whole. It is a bjessed book. Prize it above all the books in the wide, wide world. Make it the man of your counsel and the guide'of your life. tour life can never be a fail ure if you fellow its instructions. You will live for a purpose, and save your soul, and not thyself only shall be saved, but others through thee. SUSPICION.—Some men always suspect the motives of others, and manifest a restless spirit in their persuit id life.— This is the result envy or cowardice,. or both. They are always . whining about other persons trying to injure them in their calling, or detracting from their reputation ; when in fact few _people, be stow a thought. uptin,either. You cannot draw blood frog' a turnip, neither can you destroy a good reputation. Men who see the necessity of constantly defending themselves have great reason to suspect something in themselves, which they seek to hide beneath their own defence.— Shakspeare uttered a truism when he said: "Enspencion haunts the4gailty mind.% Ott 1) ta . Oh I ,-no, we,ne'et! forget theet Thou :h the' blendin". Willeisr waves ' . .lta s shidoitTilviopinkbraricheS: O'Or:theirloriely peaceful graves. ' • Thookh the fordli loved, , the,eherlshed. Have lotigidnee from us tied, • They are still our dearest 'treasures We ne'er forget our dead. , • At the - dawn of early-Morning.; At the evening's - hour, of prayer, When our path is bright .and sunny, Or dark wkthelouds'of care ;. When we boW o ur heads so rrow. Or whed joys areroinid us'spread7- Whate'er our lot in life may be, We ne'er forget our dead.. Tliose who have passed bloominkyoutb. The bright, the fait, the gay: Those who - have meekly borne the heat And burden of the day?- . • They now are calmly resting , • In their quiet, solemn bed; Yet in memory still they live— We ne'er forget our dead. What We Should Sleep On. One may imagine the internal impuri ty-of a feather bed after it has been slept u on a month a , ear • but Live ten and That baffles imaaination ! secretions of, nobody knows twenty years! The reekin, ow many, to. les, in some cases sie: an dying bodies, are stowed away in these ticks, -and when they are heated up by your kindly warmt* thy come out and attack you with their countless little en venomed darts, just when you are least active, , least able to resist them. Is not this reason enough why languor and head aches follow such • a nights rest? I al ways shudder when , I get into a "hospi table" 'feather beds Some housekeepers wash them every five years. I should want them washed every five weeks, and then not feel safe in them.' - 'Theirs is reason enough for discarding feathei beds, but what shall we take in their place? Hair is elegant and comfor table, but very expensive, and it needs cleaning at least once a year—oftener, in fact, which is an additional expense.-- Clearly, everybody can't have hair. Straw if often changed, is a good bed for those who work hard and sleep soundly, and delicate people sometimes put their feath er bed under it, spread a thick comforta ble over it, and find- themselves far more refreshed than when sleeping on feathers. But husks are better still—not the coarse, soiled, mildewed article; but the inside husk, soft and clean. If we want the beet bed we can make from them, we will wet, braid, and then dry , them; then undoing, strip them with a fork or - guage. as we choose, or this can be done withcut braid ing, which only curls them. A merry evening or two, with the children to help will prepare enough for a bed. Put them into an open tick, so that they may. be readily aired ; spread a comfortable over them, and you will have a bed scarcely inferior to the best, hair mattress for com fort and durability. This material, makes good pillows also, does nicely for children who do not mind the slight rustling; but hair is still softer; and it costs no wore than feathers. • PRESENT DUTY:— . IIc) way to make easy times is as clear as daylight. Let every man. or woman who owes money pay it at once ; if it is possible. Be willing to make a sacrifice in order to meet promptly ail your .engagements. Stop grumbling at the . faults or mis takes of others, and attend faithfully to your own affairs. Deal fairly, leniently, and cheerfully with all persons who owe you or are in pe. con ia ry trouble. - Ii you are out of debt, thank the Lord; and then go around among yourAriends, and enemies too if you have them, and ren der them all the assistance in your power. Don't hoard your money; but loan it or use it_ to relieve the needy, on the same principle as yoti would give bread to the needy in a day of famine. Do what you can in every way to re lieve pecuniary distress, to check the cur rent of financial embarrassments and re store public confidence. If you are a bank officer or director, don't be cross a minute. Smile, as a Chris tian, from morning till night. Give an encouraging word, if possible, to all, and by all means strain every nerve to help all who need it. A BABY Snow.—At the baby show at Manchester, N. H., the following premi ums were given : A flue gold necklace to Mrs. J. H. Stevens, of Bedford, for a boy under sia'motiths ; gold - cup to Mrs. Hen ry J. Hazeltine, of Manchester, for best girl. under 12 months; gold medal to Mrs. Norris C. Gault, of Hooksett, best boy under 20 months: $lO gold •-coin to Mrs. Thomas Gerald, of Manchester. for baby with the reddest hair ; pair of gold mugs to Mrs. Charles H. Clement, of Derry, for twin girls twenty : tivo months old ; gold medal to Mrs. Thomas Burns, of Nashua, for twin boy- n years old ; three gold medals to Mrs: Cyrus R. Bacon, of West Henniker, for triplet boys. There will be another baby show next year, probably- more extensiire than this, for the committee have doubbled the premi ums and offered .a gold medal to each child entered in order to bring their babies aloqg with their pumpkins and pigs,' for ebb aulusemet of the pub lic. Adversity exasperates fools, dejeeta cowards, draws out the, facilities of the wise, puts the mcidest to the necegeity of trying their skill, awes -the opulent, and makes the idle industrious, Much may he said in favor ofadversity, but the worst of it ie, it has no friends. "Sam and ,Pile:!":. * A. -day 'ortwdsince, Harry Blanchaid, secret service detective , ' hit° , Sagi-' -naw-,co,mity iittOr eniair-who was charged with ~hoiing,tan. i pefed with the" mitits.--,, He had the name and ileibription" of , the inan, , and Wiiii„infiirmed before , starting that lid: would have look .out. or he, *quid get,WAtni% or a bullet put into him, aa the'vft4law, •Samuel Large,,bad ')ltated 'that, he Waiildlieverbe taken with=' out `having made a red fight: _ Many , direndeftilnaki this -boast, but lacl(the 'backbone" to act up to their words, and Blanchard did not pay much attention to .thewarning. After he arrived at Sap naw he made a' few cautious -inquiries of an ex-Detroiter, and ascertained,that Mr. Large was stopping with a relative abOut twelve miles from Wenona. - He went down 'the river, and at Wenona learned . that' Large and his brother-in•law had left for-home about two hours before, and armed. He was alio informed, that Large lad in some way received a hint that "one of those Detroiters" was coming_ up to see him and 'would, therefore, be on. his guard. Blanchard hired a horse and started for the house over a road a fbot deep with'mad and water. It was within an hour of dark when he came in sight of the place where he hoped to find his man. He hitched his horse in the woods, looks ' littis • • _ • • - this revolverand - - - -Iralketfrboldt, the house. The children badwitneised . . • • . were prepared for him. Large's brother-in-law opened the door, spoke civilly, and Blan chard took the seat which was offered to him. There was no sign of Large, and it was sometime before the detective hint ed at his business. lie first made inqui ries abont pine lands, and thete asked' af-, ter-the-price-of-real- estate, so -that-, the man was in doubt whether hie'visitor was a speculator or an officer of the law.— Blanchard finally asked, as if merely in quiring for an acquaintance, "Oh, by the way, have you seen Sam, Large lately 7' "Is it Sam or me you ' want ?" replied the man, and he was not done sp eaking before be hauled out a' navy revolver, half as lon as his arm, and held it on a line with B lanchard's eye. The men wt re about four feet apart, and for a long thir ty seconds there was not a move or a sound to. disturb the ticking of the clock, The revolver was cocked, herd with a hand that did not shake, and the two i i men looked steadily int( .each other's eye. The wife sat at the 9the end of the room &spectator, and one of t e children stood behind the f'ather's chair. The detective thinks he lived a whole week's time. in that half minute. He saw "shootwln that man's eye, and' was almost afraid of startling him into pulling the trigger as he replied in a subdued voice, "Sam is the man I'm after." "That's . a different thing," said the man, lowering his, revolver. "He went out of the back door . as you came in, and is three miles into the woods by this time." Of course he would say nothing to criminate his relative, to aid in his arrest, but he was very friendly with Blanchard after be bad ascertained that he was not after any but Sam. He even walked down to where the detective hitched his horse, and his parting words were : "If you'd said you wanted me, or raised a finger, I'd have bored you thro' quink'n wink ! If you want to catch Sam, I've no particular objection, but your best and surest way will be to shoot him first, and then arrest him afterward." TRAT'I3 PURTY Coon.—Stotesbury lost his nose in early life during an interview With a patent hay chopper, but he suc ceeded in procuring a wax nose of such marvellous construction that only keen scrutiny 'could detect the fraud... One night limit winter,' while Stotesbury was on his way to Miss Johnson's, a tremen dous fire broke out, and Stoteshury stop ped to look at it. He became deeply in terested and drew quite near to the flame. The heat was so great that Stotesbury's nose gradually softened, and assumed seething of the shape of a raw oyster. He did not notice it, however, but went calmy onward to Miss Johnson's. When he entered, the servant girl at the door gyve one startled look at him and began to laiikh in a, most boisterous manner.-- 4 Stotesbury, indignant; pushed onward to the parlor; as he entered, Miss Johnson rose to receive him. As she caught a glimpse at his 'nose she stopped, looked amazed, and then buried her thee in her handkerchief in a convulsion of laughter. "\Vbat is the "meaning of -this extraordi nary conduct, Miss Johnson ?" demanded Stotesbury. "Oh, Mr. Stotesbury," she, said, "please excuse me; 7 but .wha—wha —what's the matter with your nose ?"-- Stotesbury went to the pier glass, gazed at that cereous oyster on his face--jam med his hat suddenly on his head, and fled from the room. As he reached the entry, he found Miss Johnson's little.bro ther just in the door, and, as that urchin perceived the condition of Stoteshury's face, he gave one wild yell and shrieked, come here, come here quick, and look at old Stotesburv's nose!" Then Stotesbury emerged all at once from the front door and went home. ,He is now wearing an 'lndia-rubbei nose, and he goes past Miss Johnson's without ringing_ the bell.—Max Adder.* NEVER SAY FAIL. Keep pn-hing—'tie wiser Than sitting aside, And dreaming, and sighing And waiting the tide. In life's earnest battle. They only prevail Who daily march onward And never say fail. Few men are wise enough to Prefer the blame that Is useful for them, to the praise that Wimp them. , „ • The etkama..,of Life. - • - There:are. a . thousand. things in this world to afflict and sciddenbut, oh I bow many thatitre beautiful ; end good I• The world' teems , with' beati,ti 4 .- wi th objeds which gladen .'the eye: and warm the heart. We; :alight' he hippy if we"would. There am ills that we cannot escape—the' approach of dise4e. and death, 'of misfor tubei.ttie shackling of: 'earthly , xies, and the eanker•worm kvi,ef, 77 -but a vast ma avoided. of the evils that toliet - us• might he avoided. • The curse of intemperance; in terwoven as iils - with all the ligaments of, society, is one which' never. strikes but to' destroy. • There is hot'eneinight pa up.' on the record of its progress..4—nothlng tor shield it *um the heartiest execration of the human-"race. It should not exist—k ought not." DO away with all' this—let wars come to an end, and. kindness mark the intercourse' netwecn man and inari.-- 1 We are too selfish;-"as if. the world .was fe made-r us glows: • Rol much happier would.we be were we. to labor more erg estly to promote•each Mii's good, - G.. has blessed hil'yvith a home which is n dark. Thetiqs .• s' sine everywhere—i • the ski, - upon ,the earth—there would in mint hearts, -if weould look around us. The storms • die sway, and a , taight: sun shines out. Summer drops her Meg : ed curtain upon theearth, which is very beautiful changing breath upon it., God reigns in ,•• -n:--Martnnr - notat - ir-B-•,ZO ful ; and we can live happier t - han we do. The Fire That Old Nick Built. ' Here is a capital imitation of the style of "The House that Jack Built," worth to become a household favorite; < War—This is the fire that Old ,Nie built, ' Standing Armies—This is the fuel. tha feeds_theArt-thatiOßLNick built. Military Schools —This is the ax tha n cuts the wood that feeds the fire that Ohs Nick built. Love of Glory—This is the stone that grinds the as that cuts the wood that feeds the fire that Old Nick built. Public Opinion• -This is the sledge, with its face of steel, :that. batters the stone that grinds the as that cuts the wood that feeds the fire that Old Nick built. Peace Convention—This is one of the blows wequietly deal to fashion the sledge, with - its face of reel, that batters the stone that grinds the ax that cuts the wood that feeds the fire that Old Nick built P ace Seeiegy—Thj's is the smith that works with a Will to ,give force to the blows that we quietlk deal to flashon the sledge, with its face of steel, that batters the stone that grinds' the ax that cuts the wood that feeds the fire that Old Nick built. Etvrnal Truth—This is the spirit so gentle and still that nerves the smith to work with a will to give force to.the blows that we quietly deal to fashon the sledge, with its face of steel, that batters the stone that grinds the , 'ax that cuts the wood that feeds tlie,lire that Old Nick A GOOD STORY. = We hear a-good sto ry told of a man who went to the frontier to see a friend. The family • consisted of the husband, and two grown sons. The old lady was the only one of the family who did not take a little of the "Oh be joyful." Sittin&by the fire a few minutes the old man tipped him.a wink, and the visitor followed him out. Stopping by a tree he pulled out a long necked - bottle, remarking, have tolteep it. hid, for the boys may get to drinking and the old woman will raise the deuce." They took a drink and returned to the fireside.— Soon Tom, the oldest 'son, asked the visi tor out to see a colt,, and taking him be hind the ham pulled out a flask, remark ing, "I.have to keep this hid, for• the old man will get drunk and the deuce is to pay,"and they both took a drink and re turned. Soon Bob stepped on the visitor's toes and walked off; the visitor following. As they reached the pigpen, Bob drew out a good sized bottle remarking, "You know the old man and Tom will get drunk and I have to hide this." The visitor con eluded' he could not drink confidentially with the whole family, and started home. "An effeminate man,'" says a recent wri ter, "is a weak poultice. He is a cross between table-beer and:gingettpop, with the cork left out; afresh water mermaid found in a cow pasture, with her hauds filled with dandelions. He is a teacup full of syllabab ; a kitchen in,tr.)wsers; a sick monkey with a blonde mustache. He is, a vine' without any tendrils; a fly drowned iu oil ; a paper kite in a dead calm. He lives like a butterfly—nobody can tell why. , 'He is . as lazy as a slug, and has no • more hope than last year's summer fly.' He goes through life on tip toe, and dies like cologne water spilt over the ground. There is a clever lad in Binghamton, N. Y., who will get his living in this world and no mistake. For playing tru ant maternal authority cut Whig supper: Casting one fond,look at the authoress of his existence, ha paused at the door to say : "Mother, I am' going to die, and when I am nd more, I wish the docfor to cut me open and look at my stomach." The maternal heart was filled 'with awful for tbodings; and the_materrial yoke ask ed what he meant. wish it to be known," he answered, "that I died of star vation." This wag enough.. The small boy wag triumphant, and retired to his iittle bed gorged to repletion:': "Fred," said a young man walking up street, the other day, after listening to his wonderful story, "do you know why von are like a harp struck by lightning ?" 'No,' says. Fred. "I give it up." "Because a harp struck by Itghtning guisii lee $2,00 PER YEAR', , kritlint °2 Etit,it;d On a tombaton inscribed,- 4 she di A Supreme Coo "the best little worn What is the di and jeweller? other saki orate , Punotuatilin was first used liteisture, in 1520. Beforethattimewordwidsentenc ea weriputtogetheilike is. ,i t - - ' • - -"You are as u Cain", said a man to= fiis wife., " "'she replied,-"imi: are certainlyAbl. > bearit."' 'J he' guardian of a woMan'shahiii , ness is 'her husband% love; ' and 'of" bar:. honor, her-afiktionlok him. hr, dOes the "girl .of .the period" Make the best_bousekeeper?:l3ecause-she - makei so Much bustle about a little waist.' Indiana SACO teacherhad.bis eye bldekened the other day by telling a far 'in4,4hat the earth revolved. Such non sense is not allowable in Indiana. . . A-Califoritia-paper-tells:-Oont a toy, , elimbing- a tomato vine to get . away from a-mad-tioi--jomato-v*. ; : normous ,size' in California, and so do lies.. Ven some man slaps me on 'der shout:7 der, and say, "I vas glad to hear you vas so well," nod den stick behind my • back his fingers to his nose, I haf my opinion of dot feller.. The editor of the Huntsville (Mo.) , Herald pips the question in his paper in. this fashion : "There's a cedilla girl "in this town who can carry our - smoke house keys for life, if shelf WAY say the word: A little boy asked his mother what blood relations meant. She :explained that,it in:ant near, relatives, .ete. After thinking a moment, he said, "Then, moth er, you must he the bloodiest relation. I have got." A German, speaking of a severe head ache he had the previous evening, said to his companion : ".ISfinetot ! mine head it ached so pad I couldn't raise it off niine pillow until I gets up and walks around a little !" A spread-eagle orator of New York State wanted the wings of the bird to fly to every town and county, to every vil lage and hamlet in the broad land, but be wilted whenn naughty boy in the crowd sang out, "You'd be shot for a goose be fore you had flew mile." At a weekly meeting.a straight-laced and most exemplary dOmfl submitted a ' report in writing of thkdestitute widows • who stool in need of *lett from thb congregation. "Are yoit ears, desk" asked a sober brother, "that.yoa haveent: braced all the widows I"' Se said be be", . lieved he had. , A Green Bay merchant put out d sign: of "ice water free." Another put out a sign of free lemotade, and a third, offered every customer ten cents in "monl. A fourth man, who couldn't think .ot any. thing better, got up a dog fight,. and drew all the turowd.ti , • • ,4.• Spinks says that when he is burISV shall not be particular about the phf; , " and things on the hearse, but be woul. like to have somebody in the. procession carry his life insurance pegs" on a pole, that the people may see 'what rich !widow he has left. "flow now ?" we said to Jones the etl er morning, finding him loOking Unusual ly cheerful and sprightly. notwithstand ing the fact that he had been up, pretty near all night. "You don't seem ,to, affected by the crisis." And Jones mere ly remarked, "No such thing. rts a boy." Daniel Webster is not the only bright boy born in New Hampshire. The }34- ton Globe has heard of another youth re• siding in Dover—who refused to take a pill. His crafty mother thereupon se• , cretly p)stced the pill in a preserved pear, and gave it to him. Presently she asked, "Tom, have you eaten the pair." He re• plied, "Yes, mother, all but the seed." In Connecticut a certain magistrate was called to, ail to liberate a worthless &A tor. ' • `"Well, John," said'the magistrate on, entering, "can you swear thatyou -are not worth twenty dollars, and that-you nev er will be ?" "Why," anstred theotlikvathetcha grined at the Lion, "I Ciiiliskiti4hift £am not vmetkihat amount I*7l "Well, well," 'returned the tee "I can swear the rest, so go alo Andrg the man was sworn arid . . fie ed. TAE HORSE PPrum:N.—The following is "The Horse Petition to his Driver," as published by the Society for the Preven tion of Cruelty to Animals. It is the de sire of the lady managers that all chil dren should commit this pretty appeal lo memory ; Up the hill ; whip mesnot ; . Down the hill, hurry we not; In the stable, iiirget me trot:; ' - Of hay and core, rob me nor; • With sponge and brush, neglect' ma not; Orenft. /17 hod,•deprive me not; If sick or cold. chill me not Vit.!, bit or reins..ierk me not; And %%hen you tiro itiittz, sticilfot fie ,- ENE :tenday, Prussisi,i4 'ii:torsee AtikingAnvii TON iri 4ie world'!: --nee betweeit a jailer ruches celli and' 'tlie • • .
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers