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B.W. ,LuR.
VrottilfE::::27:
:_?())IGETIE,X . O . 7..
:•• ,;:.
,SWhenibilthelan ckf isplendori
1-Thy IteitrVis ;
tor wbeli .9•411,5 r eye) uye„,gfqing.":',
On, the • pilgeantry oft e~ear(l
. Ar whin gay plumes are ,wavips
In the"danter's - uigq. - wiud; --
Iyhereyo!rg-heafts76eat-withjeyousnel
Ar when liii4i4lapring:time,pUtteth on
Her perttitheii rabes.Oftoweis;
, And w4hd'ritig r zephrs kiss:the-leaves ,
,
Or when prod:arms are,bendiug.dowr
With hkiditia.:f4 - 4ii,td - thee,' '•••'• ' • •."
Xay; think not theupf„Fue. j
when the brightjalid„beautjful..,
0 1 All'PAs*Ai t kYi.
And the withered leaves of Autumn
Are whispeiing - 4 decaq
JaPt . o f,§-o**
PP its ,stem tprlosn, ,• - „ .
• And the breath_ of dying Sowers
• On' the'sighing breeze
-Or whelyntdewy evening,
iNthileintiiipisattitinone, ;
- Lbw whisfietink winds shall waft - to thee
Some well - remembered. tone ;
.Or When the waning moonbeams sleep
'Upon tbe-.deep „
I Then, sometimes, let.tby : gentle thoughts
klndly, upon me.: ' ;' '•
I would that tbis might be to thee,
4i,days to eeine,*token : '
-Of bright and joyous hoirs:pa§t, • :-
And wads of love once .spoken !
• Surely' then wilt remember all—
V 1 ,,.
e. once-loved—Abe 'departed—
The friends thatgatbered round.thee, ';
. Tlie'fond and the true.hearted:
When thoughts of otlier,days shall steal
Thy gentle spirit o'er,
Like strains of wafted music _
Eroineome fair_liut fading shore,
And Memory's light shall linger round
Each once familiar spot,
Full *ell rlindw, deep•cherished one,
Thou wilt forget me not.
Pistellaiti6li - lleadi4E,
HOUSEHOLD IDOLATRY.
When George DMAIy was married he
thought lie had• attained the summit of
human feeility ; and his mother and sis
terssaid, George is not happy it will
be his own fault."
. George Dunkly was the village carpen
ter..• He had a , good business; a pleasant
house of his- own ; sober habits; youth,
health and strength iu his l'avor More•
over, being fond of readiug, he had a re.
spectable library already. and meant to
.have a larger one before he had done.
"Ah r said he to himself, rubbing his
hand gleefully, "what pleasant winter eve
nings we shall have—Margaret and I—
when wo both have done work, and have
nothin,.„o•'else to do, she to listen and I to
read aloud" And George really laughed
ed, he was so brimful with the pleasures
,of anticipation.
Margaret was young too, and healthy
And strong. She was pretty, moreover,
and faithful and affectionate. - She really
loved George for himself and she bad
worldly wisdom enough to line him none
the less-for his pleasant house and his
_good business.
So George and Margaret were married,
And the honeymoon passed away blissful
ly. George was happier" than ever.
But time wore on, and George began
to wonder; according to his notions he
had ample cause for wondering.
For one thing he wondered that he had
not found out before he was married that
Lis house, instead of being, as in his sim
plicity he had always considered to be,
respectable for its external neatness and
internal cleanliness, was, in flict, a very
pig sty (or something near it) for dirt and
.dust. That it was so, he had Margaret's
word for it; and he had, besides, the evi•
deuce of more senses than one, in the.en
tire purification of every "stick and straw"
that this house contained. He had before
known his pretty young wife to be a fa
mous cleaner, and he had pleased himself
with the thoughtnf.hersuperiotabilities
in this way; but now- he found that he
had not known half the reality.
At first, George was pleased to find that
Margaret's gooequalities were not dimm
el by marriage ; aud, week after week, he
lore with exemplaiy fortitude' the inflic
tion of mops, pails, brooms and brushes,
the strong odor of soap and soap-suds dai
ly renewed, and the inconvenience of cur
tuinless windows and damp floors. By
and by, however, he began to wander how
it was his with never got tired of scrubb
ing and scouring, and how soon or how
long it would be before his house would
be to rights. • .—•
Vain were the expectations he fo'rMed.
The 'Muse Was neverlo rights.: Every
day had its appointed duties; and of these,
the first and tbremost was- to scrub tug!
clean. If the dinner was ill-cooked, or
not cooked at all, or kept back half an
'hour, whar of that? Was there not the
washhonse In whitewash? and ; ciaild any
do two things at once? If the house
-was"turned out at the window,", and the
once ccinthrtable sitting room had no
chair for Greorge to sit upon when he came'
in from work,, what Of, that?', Had not
Margaret been ,hard at work all day too?
Hadn't she been Varkishingall the chairs
..'. , i . ~ 1 !
~ ~-
.: r'
anel :fables,, awl : innkjtig there !shine, Wig,
coking.glasses? gao she twn whpion.-;
defining?. bees ele.a.riPg of
the 'Corner di pbotirds,A.44 4he , pleeets, 77
And'ihadaleheVitlwtboArf_work,yet
to get .tinclugh,ANArP,rfter S t ai , :ivoilljci he
do' IHi :id l er be'Pus )Ifith
them well ilia ,
'ißei(ll-1,. where. is .... dirt 'ic!*T/e•'# o . l / 1
'`l•liey...'are-dirty,"G'eorge; and'lonly
ewePt•theparlor , -yesterday:- And' 'thei?,
that'filtly pipe " '''''''
.".Why
,igatiiyet;" pilatit 00-
tured ly., . 4 ..‘y on ..didihilsed to. ohjee,t
my . smoking. now.: and .thetur you , • didit'l
Say 'filthy pipe' before-we were married.
' "Well,. 'I do , ;tiow i then; , I deolitre it
inakesteverything smell : of itobacco.:. •rglie
pattor,do'.kfi.t iuto-afterzyou have
been smoking there. v. •_, ,".
wa good-natured and:forbear
ugf. but it was3lard. work for, him to ; swal
low the risiug auger ;. nevertheless he did.
it.
'•Well, Margaret," saldhei "I won'l, go,
into, the ,parlor then,, if you mill just make
the 'kitchen comfortable and come, and elk
with me. I aia sure you hPVP fin
ished cleaning for to-day.at least„ •
,Come,
11l ;put, my. pipe down And. read to' you.—'
have,not had a quiet hour with you for:
'many Along day.- -; -, • •
Ah, Margaret, ! Margaret, what evil, spin-,
it was it.thutprompted you to say "There,
hold yourlougne I . Just like you men !
Think ikottien'haVe nothing to-do but:wait
upon you. Dan'L you see I have two
hours' work, to do yet before I, (with strong'
emphasis on that ./;) before /cart sitdown?"
George Dunkly darted from the house.
It was eleven o'clock' when lie returned.—
He had been setting in the tavern' drink
ing, for there was 'comfort there—of a sort.
This was scarcely four months after mar
riage.
* * * *.
Ten years IMSSed away, and still the
great object of Margaret's life was to "bus - -
tle about" and to clean. Her house was,in
deed, a picture of 'rod housewifery—when
it was to rights, which was one day in sev
en ; and her children (she had three) were
orderly, and clean, and well-behaved, and
—timid. Good reason they had to be tim
id. Dankly 'dwell was not greatly chang
ed externally ; but his dreams of domes
tic happiness had passed away like dreams.
He never, after that "one slip, again de
graded himself by excess; for his princi
ples were . sound. But his home-;--alas
Well, ten year's passed away, and Mar
garet, careworn and weakened by her con
stant exertious,. Sh&was very ill.
Her recovery was despaired of. With re
turning, or rather with awakened affection
George nursed her, and watched by her
bed. At length the crisis was over; dan
ger had passed ; and very slowly Marga
ret recovered strength.
One evening it was a fine summer eve
ning—she ventured, leaning on her bus-,
band's arm, to quit her wary couch and
cotter to'the window. It was partly open,
and, shielded by the curtain she sat, still
s.tpported by her husband, watching the
setting sun. Presently childish voices
were heard below, and Margaret listened.
They were the voices of her two elder
children.,
"George," said little Margaret to her
brother,"tit titer says that mother is getting
well again." .
"Is she really ?" said the boy in a tone
that seemed to tremble.
"Ah, that she is; so father says; and I
say, George, you take care ; you know it
wasn't I that m tde those scratches on the
wash house wall.
No, Margaret, no," replied little George,
with agitation and fear in every tone;
"but don't tell mother! 0, Margaret,dear,
pray don't tell mother !"
It was a hard and painful lesson, but a
most blessed one. There is not now a hap
pier home than George Dunkly's ; for
Margaret, his Wife,: has 'learned that the
excess of some 'kinds of excellenco is a
vice, and has had the magnanimity to sac
rifice. her house idolatry at thci shrine of
family love.
Do wild birds' and beasts know N ihon
Sunday comes? In thickly peopled re
gions it is easily conceivable that hawks,
crows and wood-chucks should come to
know the day of bells as the day of safety.
'There' are no men in the meadows; the
horses stroll-the hillside; the wise. of the
axe 4aci the voice of the-ox-driver are not
heard. The shy and vigilant verthin
that frequent farms know Sunday. I
have verified it so often,that. l i ve not a
shadow of doubt left.— Thomas K. Beecher
Like a bell • that's rung for fire; like a
careless auctioneer; like, iofttime, a grace
less liar, raiSehicf-roaking tattlers,g(i;stop
ping you with quaking fear, , whispering
as you lend an ear—" Mercy on ps, did'
you - hear? "Betsey Bean his got a beau:"
No man was ever so deceiycd by anoth
er ag by himself.
i.r,.;:rl;,ii ,27 AM . EL 'Y'' NE - '''l7" - ii-*.." '-' • DE ifiiiitiiiiiii - tittitiAruitz, LOCAL *lnv GE xpr t ax NESS. ETC.
o rd., IP I. Aria W'
',..1i:.. ' ... . • -' ,
itNESBORO', 'FIAALTAN- SDAY, DECEMLBERI7,IB74.
•
A Si tin g e
. I*-tli+TW
Thirteen years ago a young min wooed
and won a younglady_ina village 'aid
far:frOm.-Daven'port, i•lT.be:pareats 4the
-girl objected, and, there was, a dsal-oftyoub-, ,
le; but ,fieilly die' couple were married at'
the home 'of the bride. Three mOlitlie Ed'
;he bridegroom daiired to`-move td
iornitribirt-thelamilrof-his wife-op ,
1-llartnfigfationraiiirthii BAIA' Was .
the - hnshiiid - started" Tor - the - Pacific
tviithout ler.i.. :After- tbelitist , Six
no:tidiogs from'the !husband were ,
ved-.+-a
nd in less than a year news.
.tbat he..was dead. . ln 18.6.3,the wid
tied yell who hadi
+lied' *din , Gefinany rltlidjlieribed
itisband:ivite•eatirelpignriiint arthe
that , hih 'bride iiidow. -I - - But:
.e.ofignoraneir is -
' •• 8 hortly: ,after4he • martiage- the.
.and purchased a farm is Scot t Couxa-•
and mx•thifi faria the couple have•Jiy,
, ver since, and several children have
their union,
oiirloW4eks• ago , ' theifiitt Usband - of
woman arrived in Davenport, and.On:
in. vinquiries :learned the history. of
wife's marriage.,Then berade out to
4.'2
861 1 lt r itiOttiriltuite fOr 'her that her
loid:Was 'ftWair from -fionle; , forelia
Wei/very" much-affected."- , She-talit-hi'm:
tbakshe supyesed .dead„. and .go par
tied iinfitiliero.and chided liimlciiiiegiedt
ing her as T stOik
to tell; the i. 610: gist of it being tharite
had, determined nemer, to.retUra..uptil he
became rich., 177rigA,?,
But his wife was miserable in his presence
I —anithe'wies'iniserable, tool • "-":-,
The eminf lhefconferenee was, that.the
first., husband return ed to Davenport to
consults iaW3 , :el4afid 4id'of 'the 'c,on
pultation that the'htibtatfid'vent t'o'
the:wife antd , ll4ll Artilther-len :Pik with
hprgfin4„,thpa the two.kepar . ated . ,,,neFer
meet again, for the 'man determined' to
eress,the ocean .and speed the balance of
his i daya 'in G6rinany. ' • . • '
; The day that he left the 'wife 'entered
hersuit for dirrce, on the.,ground of de
sertton ; the, notice wiig'firwith served on
the . defendant, and hacceptpd'Seritice.--' .
At the ' next term of the Cirenit Court the
defendant's naMe will be 'called, and there
wit be no response. There will' be default,
and decree. 0..-diY9P:le grAnktqd- Ap4 may
be the wife..,till : be marrieda second time
to the father of her children, and, so
main contented in the delightftillanne in
which she now :liired.in elegance . and cone
fort.--Davenport Gazette.
•
He ivho boasts 'Of' being perfect japer
feet in his folly., I haVe been a gold' deal
up and down
.in the world, and I never
did see either a perfect-horse or a perfect
man, and I never. Shall until two Sundays
come together. You Cannot' get white
flour out of a coal-sack, nor perfection oat
of human nature , be who looks for it bat'
better look for sugar in the sea. The 0/
saying is, "Lifeless,fitultless." Of dem
men tee should say nothing but goad,
as
for the living, they tire tarred more
less with the black brush, and half an.ey
can see it. Every bead, has : a Sofi,,p4a,F,
in it, and every heart, hai its black
Every rose has its p'riciles; and every 'da:
its night. Even the sun shows spots, aui
'the skies are darkened with clouds. NN
body is so wise but he has fully eioug
to stock a stall at Vanity Fair. Whey
I could not see the fool's cap, I have rtel
ertheless heard the bells jingle. As Opt
is no sunshine without some shadows,
all human good is talked up with more
less of evil ; even poor lacy guardians hay,
their little failings, and parish beadles at
not wholly of heavenly nature... The best
wine has its lees.- Alt men's 'faults ut
not written on their foreheads, and L
quite as well they are n0t,..0r hats Foul.
need wide brims; yet as sure irs egg are
eggs, faults of some kind nestle in every
man's bosom.. There's ,no telling 'when a
man's, faults may show themselves, for
. 1
hares pop out of aditch just when you ,
are not looking for them. A horse that,
is weak in the knees may not stumble for
a mile or two, but it is in him, and the ri
der had bettor hold him up well: The
tabby eat is not lapping milk ' just now,
but leave the dairy open, and we will see
if she is not as bad a thief as the kitten.—
There's fire in the flint, cool as it looks ;
wait till the steel gets a kuock at it, and
we'll see. Everybody can read that rid
dle, but it is not everybody that will , re
member to keep his gunpowder out of the
way of the candle.—John Baughman.
INCIDENT OF OVERLAND TRAVEL.—
Among the passengers ,by the westward
bound immigrant train Was a Mrs. W. S.
Credilml, au aged lady from Albert, Me.,
Poor, feeble and alone, she had left her'
home to cross the continent on an immi
grant train to see her children residing
iu this State. • Two grown daughters -a
waited her at San Jose. and her son had
gene up the road to meet her: He found
ner worn out with the tittigues of the pro
tracted journey in acoinfortle,ss immigrant
car, and very weak. .About. 6 o'clock in
the eveningshe reclined., her head on his
shoulder and fell asleep there. . just . after
the train left San Leandro-a gentleman,
who had got on the taain at that place,
noticing something peculiar in the atti
tude and appearance of the old lady, ap
proached her-son and inquired, "What is
the matter with, that lady?" "Hush,"
replied the young man,, "don't wake my
mother." "No 'fear," said the gentleman'
"she will never Wake . rigain in this world."
He waS*.right... ' 9, nie,tly 'leaning on the
breast of her on the, poor old lady-bad
yielded to fatigue 'arid"peacefully fallen
into a slumber from' w ielrelie - passed 'in
'to that deeper sleep that' kedge neither
waking nor weariness. The immigrants
composed her limbarto rest, and brought
'the body to this city for • the bereaved
children.—San. Francisco Chronicle.
We all have Faults.
t)i- ; •,;
BY MARY kw/TaIiLET:
Be f ore/ma a kiss; }no;
c 9, 41 1, 3. 71 tA
w r!/CdAWV , •. ,. . • :.
For tin - idle word - that. X p:vp
-.„.,...
. H ad rankted a night , arid day ?
* fi/iiNiiiilitti f f
I,• %kali& alifhtifi3 loitished'tci ' •
1 Plfit_poiy..4 apd,stiag oiirtha !,T:1,113.
. Grgvy'aiit,oraii
.r ;
Bitt iingdiet spirit: . • ;
: Weight' , no xua , tteriiiright,i •• ; , ~ • • ~. •
AndPßlF9,9m l Ft'.°E•ilj.eft49uP! 4 Pr b
• ylts, ,rs,s,s , pn , piit of sight..,
I let s iiip?.,g6l.o.4, 3 l:fii'nioriiinfe •
nuised"oly Wrong
- Wittuniaty :
..; ...ft?: • ,t,
°M:l4 it t9!! t4M1414,. help me , ,• r.
train,
hat 'Oftaie;lS Wlma pi' . s ig n"; I.
.re '••
, •
aignihr " • •
Bat siditifeisvelniirg , +Wallows gathered; i•
•Mp hbartibegsizito•bniu ~ ,, t , .r., ,
s,fisiok*nsagetwo i ttf,4is4pfluence - , „
I / . 1 9'4494 "or Als , r•etlF!!'- •. •
Leaping against 'tOn•lovi ''l '
tiei3tteet.,:-; . •i• - = , i •
strained mq ear hit; step &Mir ~;- •
Iwthecrowdioilhurryinghleeti .;:i • •
Far Aff? tootheidigunfOt difitgic i 44311 • ••
1 9499;4.:4vVh114wPift'
34,t:t0 a pyle l irptead nuci94
tread,.
'' f "_V „
Anai;siiip,lt ut attibet.
•ii•,11: I. .7t
Some griefs; , tbfouglk.fleep an 4 bittpTx
in a t q ur qq , • 0 _
some reta i n the old, old fain
• .A,s l i re'en r duiee: • a " "
I did notlinOwiri'thelinorning • --
When I coldly turned away, .(1:.:
That I should . miss and mourn that kiss
'to my I:lying:day 1?"; • '
iiA Story •.of Life mict.Death.
. .
In'taiVience, Susie' M. Sinith a •
young
ladrabOdt,iieirenteen mears'of age, daugh
ter of Dr. Q.vouleaf•• ii)nith, after, a. short
illness, died,,on ,Weduesaay r Sep,tennber
9 at 6,o'eleck in, tlie' evening, and From
that' tiinif r u 'Fridai;'ni 12`o'clack; 'the
body'Was'aj pittentl:y. pesecsied in partly
other. : .; ' .• ,
,On Wednesday : the,Aay of hpr, death,
she said ,"Vather I have ,attended ply
min funeral." Slie &scribed- it as- very
real,dechiied, her Self 'perfectly' .eonsei o us'
of what she was saying;:and , also spoke:
of singing.and,gave. the names: of :#b B&
she had heard. She continnpd, i ratiould
during the day,, - ,when auout`six
o'clock, she' passed to yiblent • spainisl i ii .
gradual Paleness iiVerstliend her'facrefrom
the forehead ;! she, became speech less', clos
ed -her oyes, and,to;the senses of, .those a
bout her' bedside. life was extinct. The
unseen power.
• The body
. Was . novi possessed by a spir
it that was cheerful; lively, and not nu,-
like - its ,natural occupant. '
The doctor was about to ask if she
hadn't better be laid Itack, when the
saine'force'agoin lifted them, carried them
both backward—he to his- feet, and she
falling •to her.first position in bed, appar
ently agaiu as dead as could possibly be.
. A few minutes elapsed—the doubt was
settling into certainty—when a mild voice
opened conversation which continued three
hours; during this time it acknowledged
that this body lied been controlled by spir
its out of the•flesh. .
A trance sleep followed.
The next morning the body opened its
eyes and said to 'the doctor, "Please lie
down on the side of the bed." He obey
ed, and the voice !szid,."Who am I, uny
way ?" He replied, "You are Susie Smith'
It answered, "No, I ain't; Susie Smith
died last night," and thil3j?pinion it main
tained. , ' •
On Friday - the- sympteins were again
worse ;. there were several fainting spells
but after. twelve. 'clock thero were no in
dieetioni of life.
The next morning, while in - ti lower
room, and. endeavoring to decide where to
lay the hody,an apparition, or Susie Smith
as the incredulous or credulous will have
it, walked into the room with plain foot.;
steps and said, "Right otr the school hill,
right on' the side. of the : road"—then dis 7
appeal ed.
The location indicated' was selected.—
In Denmark, near Brighton, Me., the bo
dy lies in a new selecteddot on the school
house 'hillside.
The illness and decease occurred at the
residence of her sister, corner of Cedar
- and Franklin streets. The young lady
resided in Lawrence for a number of years
and was organist at Webster Hall, with
a large circle of acquaintances. We ad
vance no explanation or theory to cover
.the case ;, we give the facts, easily attest
ed, and the ctreumstauces warrant the
truthfulness of the statements.—Spiritual
ist Scientist, Boston:.
T9rrible, - Fate
the'fillOwing are theddtaklii of 'a ter
rible ealitiiiity that overtook-the family of
Mrt, William S... , Berudon, a.farmer, of
Gage county,, N„ebraaka,;.„ On Apvember
10 he noticed that , the prarie several miles
frail' hie dioefling;':ii a s' en' fi re: heaiy
wind:Bol6odg about:' faint: text *day;
blowing directly:; fro* the , fire toward his
house, wariteti Mtn that Idan ger, was grow:
ing . imminent. His .children ' were now
crying through 'fear, and his wife) Was' itn,
;orth:l244loM te make the beiit'Of'tinie,
Arangetnents 'weie soon , for - :the
jouriiiiy,r and in ;it I.W.o;heree- wagon ' , they:
sfarteiluntore thsta ; ton.miles. in
,advauce
jf the fire,, with every i
tilde 'to,' got Ont of' its reach' GOod
tiidd Was: made by the 'team; and hot iti
titlate-lnAhe evening; when : the. wind-in ,
greased in fury, was there any apprehen
eion of danger. ' Abort the 'Whid
increased: M s htriica - rO. itd..the .flames
began to . approach:. theth terrible
eneed;and :awful ,gratdeur. . Faster : and
faster they came, and Mr. Herndon says _
bat it was evident-OEllm woula'Oner
take thena.in a.f0194 1 941.t144 3 -:- A.Vltt vests
to be done under the circumstances. was
it question that -had4abe.decided" quick=
The Ibrses. had. tot ;become. nman
ageable, and , were ,as, likely to;
,oyerturn,
the wagon and, stare,for the flames as any
Other way. ''A — miersby piecettif groat&
Has some two miles distanf,lancitear this
was a small branch isf tster. r froui,which
he' rein ein liefect 'He liad - - - friiqu'en try water-
ThiiiwitailloTenly dance
for.life,:. awL haitily.e.leavinelliis ,wagon'
and team to their fate, he startedwith all
baste for the marsh, -with- his youngesit
child, a lad of eight years, in his arms:—
It .wes : for life,was.
coming, stud ti?py mitp, one grand effort
to,get out of its reach; ; 'ales'Tit Was
unavailing,. • The little dalighter waS the
first that was overtaken, and the mother:
Was prone •to stay, iihd,, ,up , _ her life
with her; darling, &le, she kept on, while
thellalues Welt' yet 'Wore that'w hundred ,
yards' behind,. and little • Mary was.. left
upon her ktiees„.oraying that her ]dean ;
enly Father might take her to His bosom
and save her mother and fatheraiki little'
brotherfrom, perishing. Death soon came
far her,, and not ,long, di Deathd
4 wait . the.
'brother and" in
meat S the mother', werwolifire;
and 'she mai unableto .piciceelk I The. fat.
ther, with desperate determination togave,
his little son, pushed- on, hut already his
clothes Were - on' fire, audithe-little boyitlie
pride' of his;heart, :was struggling. .frea
bipsel.C.from...the tortlirss, and soon 149
svf!, at rest in dpttii. s body, but.
hin
dered_ the " 'progress' of the'lether, ' an& te,
save 'himself he 'deteriiiited - th' abandon
Thus freed 'of all• iimumbrances he
succeded: in reaching the , atm m. After.
the fire gad psssed
,tpy he retraced his
steps and gathered in brie place the black-
Asa& charred remains of his,lat,e house
,d,
an WIDOWS VS. WIDOWERS.—We
tc never been Able), to comprehend, why
much sympathy should be manifested,
'behalf of poor widows Rua 'go l ittle for.
Divers. Of the two, the latter-in niost•
;ances, are the most pitiable, helpless.
despondent -
When the man:dies; the woman seems
tccept the situation ;• she gathers her
limes, -mach or little, together, and.
isfers all of the deep„ and ,holy ; love
bad lavished upon her liusbind; to
,her
(ken.' Thus panoplied; trasting
I, she moves 'ori in the even tenor of
' breasting all.the Storms, and over
ling all.difficplties, until she has rear
, useful and:..happy
In. the other hand, when a man losee*
wife, iu"most- inks he seems' to lose
reason. His, home is broken up—bis
scattered. He heeotnes a sort
of monomaniac. He throws hiniself into
the matrimonial market, a kind of second
hand man, or commodity, which must be
disposed of on some terms immediately.—
He falls.head over ears in hive with:every
thing that wears calico. The puppy love
of eighteen is tame compared to his fren
zied devotion to any and .all who will lis.
ten to him. His only cure is death or
matrimony. We really pity and sympa
thize with the widower, and as we have
several now residing in our city, we might
as well state, in this connection, that we
know of a large number of respectable
ladies who join u.; in our condolence, and
who would be' willing to sacrifice them
selveson the hymenial alter fur their re
lief.
TITE SACKFUL, pr EA,RTII.- A rich. man
had by an unrighteous lawsuit obtained
from a poor widow a small. field, ' by the
produce of which she was just able'to'
maintain herself. The inconsolable wo-:
man came to the merciless man with the
humble request that ho would allow her,
to take away a sackful of earth from her,
former - possession. The rich man consent
ed with a contempuous smile ; so the wid
ow went with a large• sack, and dug and
shoveled till it was quite full from the
bottom-to the top. • Wlfen she had finish
ed, she asked her plunderer, who had been
looking on, to help her to lift the sack up
on her shoulders. To this he also con
sented, and exerted all his strength in or
der to lift the load ; but it was of no use
—it was too heavy.
As he was about to go away to fetch a
strong laborer to lift it, the widow held
him back, and said, Triend I stay here;
as I am obliged to give up the whole field
to you, therefore I will leave You the sack
ful of earth also. But can you answer
me the following question, 'As this sack
is already too heavy fir yOu, will not the
whole field weigh still more heavily on
you before God'sjudgment-seat, and crush
you to the ground 1'
The mans' 'conscience was touched by ,
this reproof, and he gave • the Uld up a
gain to the widow.
Dammam—What wondrous consola
tion,. comes to . us in` those - blessed,-,hours
when the body lies resting. The spirit
roams at 'will; nor distance, space;• Or tithe
can separate us fromour loved: The treas•
ures snatched away - by, deatitiareiaurs a-,
gain. • .-,Forms only dust tc.day,,are-wit
us is by-gbae years. • The same tint of
hair and Shade of eye; the same-rieh col
oring, of lip, and expanse-of !brow - 3 the
same expression.; The little -pealliarities•
which,endeared, them to,cnr heart3,,anake
dreaming a blessed . reality.
tiewiiPt we ate to
i nig; "Of,' dotild Settieagitin r
Beraived mother. you are' comforted when
your- baby, nestles iayour arms again, .
the little fingers ,thrill, you. when, wander
ing as of old. 'The Wee face'brakes bite'
smileft'•at•Your!cliFos!.;You w O .OO 4 01 4
baby thneforever, Alass f l - Yon must aivalt,e,
-awake 'to' find , etapty 'Cradle; empty
arinia; l'Ciaginelleart -- •
There is more pleaeure:ja drellii3 than
in, realities. 2 The .wseakeaeg jembitter,s
both., Brother, sister,,,have _p.m awaken
ed from the '0 Miny.dreains of, yoa th ? Are
the' 11613,4 lon detail'? Have
frieridsforsaken your? • Has disease elainf=
e& you forihisltre.y 2 .Because that .was so
bright, , tins, , so, dark. , w 11 yowp.,lAoly-,
your fifo to be ,a f failure? _lf you cmanot,
,
you *mu; *lll ybu not be What
you - can? Can 'yoit kindle aittea ?
you live aright?. ••• s• , :,:s ,
A ''FriitfgE slice time!
age' abimetVeenty:Yeiiis •Of
agel,: arrived -, hi Baltiintirefront;Englaiml,
and • . commenced to look for; wOrki at ; his
trade. Al:ter,several dqyefri,ntiesi”leaFnli,
the, titaioe says' .he,entered a litre facto:
Ty on I' o 6i - ribald' ;Street:and inqiured 'Ph."
tvoriChf the. "siiperintefideut: ' l'he• lat
ter qttestioned asking - him his name
and ‘tdiere'ho Viai'frori andother"' partic
, ulars about untidy; He • told the su- -
Ferintendent tha:t his mother resides .in
aikijand7 And; had reared: him; is father
baying quivre4ed with : her when he, ; ivae,
anpfaut; abondened them,' And
`it' Was'iirtipesed that Ird had t - come - to
inerica,:-but•nottidings'hidibeen• received_
froatr..himw , ..When the .y:oung Man , had:
ecniciudgd,. ! the superintendent , .. who for
many, years had bea4 • emPlo,yed bythe e
firm with ' whom pregknit 'engaged,
said' to :the astonished" yontif; 4 .1 ani • y o'ur
• They. diseussed : family matters
at length, and the fathnr,,hearing from his,
son that iiis,Rotheq ,had c never, ceased to
mourn their tinforlinatiie difference end
bleitbSenee, clete'rthitietl to 'proceed at once'
to.EuroPe 'and•iiiing , :hee to this 'country!
and endeavor in the: future•yeats to atone
for the rnistaico.an,d errars,c,f the ipast,; 7 -.,
He secured employment for his son, an d .
obtaining the ; necessary ; le,avo Absepee
from, his, empkers, weels
fog "raighttid, intending to bringlii . ekwith
him 'on retilru' the *ife'froar who ihe
had beeu so long separated; - •• • •'• •-•
THAT ELOUR,TRlC:7—Y,estrtlay.ploro.7.•
ing,Says the - Detroit Free Preis; au limo.
centloCking young' man.' was ' .
-loefing'a•
round theClentralllepot with one Ottlicise
small -lung-testers, which, throw aliandm
fat er flour into,a,plaies.face,jtist as:he
imagines ,heis going to blow up to one
and fifty' pounds: There was an
old man waiting' around 'for "the train to'
go, and' he was at'once'ittraCted to the
machine. Ho saw others blow, and when,
told, it would n ot cost him a cent,l e
x , i pitch-,
He was rilleivcd ..6 blow two 'cif
three then the young' man' told'
him to put in a regular hurricane, and
beat everybody by five rounds. The old.
fellow threw back his -coat, got the pipe
in his mouth, and theii'• his eyes opened
like traps as le sucked' in, all.tho air he ,
could., After a second. or two lie let go,
and the.flourstruck hi''. lie didn't: say
a word foi'a ' He softly' laid'
down the pipe; Niinked- his eyes; and spit
flour, and as the roar of laughter increas
ed, he backed up against the wall. and
said : 'You kin la, and laf,' but I swan .
to gum I'll lick somebody for that, even
if I don't never lead another cluss'ineet
in.!' And he did. •
A ROUT InLENEss:----Many young ,
peo
ple think an idle . life mitst 'be a - Pleasant
one, but there are none`who enjoy. it' -so.
little and are such burdens tolltetuselves o
as those who have nothing to do., ,'Those
who are obliged to work . hard all day pp ,
joy their short period-of rest, and recrea
tion so mtich,.thrat'' they are' apt,te think
if their life were spent in ,rest,:aud i ,.recre, ,
stint) it would, be thepos4 . leasautTof all.:
But this is a sad mistake, ; asthey would
soon find Out if thorn - m(l6'a trial of `the
life they think so•airecable:" One'who is
never:busy can never enjoy rest, for, .rest
implies relief from previous labors; and
if our whole, time wore spent in amusing
ourselves, we should find it more Weari
some than the hartleA ;day's - work; Ite
creatioli is oifly valuable as it unbends us ;
the idle can know nothing of it. Many
pelvic leave off busineis and settle down
to a - life of enjoyment ; but they 'general
ly find that they are not nearly so happy
as they were before, and are often glad to
return to their old occupations to escape
the miseries of indolence.
It is impossible to blunt .
the fine edge
of some people's fastidiousness.. An in
stance at hand is the k of a lady in this
city who got, up and went out of church,
last Sunday, because She conSidered the
minister's remark that We all wanted to
"get into Abraham's bosom," as both ma
licious and indelicate.
'Wkat.shall we do withiAlau,glitersr
inquiLsMrs. Livermore,' — iiiid Western
editor %n inhuman iv - retch, replies ;
they are like - their' mothers—Wear - false
hair, cor s ets; and high-heeled shoes, pow
der and paint—wriugibeirTecits.nt mice.
Contentment is na luxury,
artificial ponyv, • ' -' - • -
$2,00 PER YEA R
NITILBER•26.
ait 31 , 1 m oIN---
Lazy husbands are knowiroutAVestas
stove Avatcheis. :
FortiOns- 1
o `• is ngan -4 at t -estrie-ant , :ofihr
Woods and stare at peoplapassiniby with
as much impudenee,as . a sewing, traehtae
or lightning rod agent. . -
Wolvai are' in some
'A sOmethat'sirnple woman was asked
whetheriler husband feared q
,God,•an
plicd, guessfpr• 11P. PPY9r,
oat an §uuday'ti" Withnutliiking his gun
.
The name of .the Sheriff,a, white couu 7
ty, Pk, is i lle . .ll,Stprius, tither was
an,eecerilrie ; gentfew an, • ifot111)e ti,d;
son " thew Otiniect'leipeef,iveljr,._'_Hell:
Staruni,Attity Sterns ~ nod , Sue:w Sterols..
- -
•Nineteen years ago 'fa
a Tennesiee' the.r
rifused to let his, daiighter go to a Clindy.:'"
disatipeartd. , The'other day
she , rebirued,-iifted eleven:children ont:ef
the; wagon, .and -ttie house' and-.
to.Ok O ,LK her ,thiPgs !" • coyly. I.Y, the
hadn't been gone ovei'a da)r. . '" ' "
• • .
eon , :
gregs, , _ )14• wet
clay,..aryl3o;u,p agidde,palizl,ps
lees, ,
Dent who mdde deiiniligs?"' •
"Sit daivii; stir," said'the grettetiet stern—,
ly;- -- "srg :4. • .
any system . nb. tbeolßgy.
ANktoits' I'6' MAKE A 'S'Air.-- , l3`ruce.
noticnig'shice kept a general store in tfie
northera:patt of the State. 1,11 , ta1l coun- n
tryman stalked into his estaliehmeqoue
day yith feet 'encased is moceasiont,
and planting 96e - of theta 'ion u barrel, a-ii.k
ed Brace if eduld fit him with.a pair
of boots. - , •- 3
• • "Cedillalyi", said the latterfAnd.aftor
, glancing at •,the foot procedett to
dawn i boa fabled "tiascirted,brogt, tits; 13: - •
t 01.3," 'selected Pair '.of the -former' - &-sti •
and handed it to•tiug ceimtrymanwitli the,
polite request; ,`,l'fry„that one." ..
. „The. elgvemyere tried,, but .tetAo_pti,r- . .
pos,e. Ole ,combined pulling of a dozen
horses iouldn't get "those 'boots on his feed.'
Twelves'were• next tri ed;. bu t 'with no: bet- •
ter•sieeess...s:AVith • as , air •of • assurance •
13ruce:haoded'hiW the.lhiScenti., I ).MPthSir •
rid the same fate' of the others.
The conorym i ttu looked blank-,Brune
p ,
he Wits
- equal to - Ile Criidr
ge ' • Quretly turning • the'llNirovel;
as io enipty its. contents' 'on the: floor, ha •
sinilingly•handed. the amid thetastowelt
ed• csminer„witli- the
,reque4:; , ,
"Hire; :put on mind,: of thin, .socke
try,on the hox.
A Yankee out-west.who , rccently..wrote
'home tn:his mother. hat he had seen a
live Elotiater',.. has sent tier' 'another e p istle' '
Wmitbru: etiquette. • Here' it is :
tern- peoplego'lheir death on - etiquette.—
You can't tell a man here that, lies, as
you , can : down east, without,fighting. -A
few days, ago a man.was telling two of his
..
neighbeis in my hearing a pretty
sfety.'"Sayel, ''stranger,thats a 'whopper.%
SAYS he; 'lay • there, stmnger,'.attd.l44lv-•
twinkling of en.eye,,l hung : myself In .a
ditch, a perfect,quadruped, the Arse for
wear audlear. Upon another, &Casten,
034' I. fo' a' ueVer saw before, its '
yitnnan.paWsed him,.`that isn't , a:secimen •
ofiyour Western. women, is it ?' bays, he
`you • are afraid, of the fever And
stranger, ain't you ?' Very mpch, says I.
Well,' 'replied - he that' lady is in:) , wife;
and if - you• dinft apologise in two minute.% •
by the •honor , of 'a gentleman, I sWear thu t
thets, two pistols,' which he held in his
hard,fshall cure you of the disorder entire
ly-so don't'faar stranger.' I knelt do*ii
and 'apologised. 'I admire the country '
much, but darn :no if• I eau stand so" much ,
etiquette, it always takes me unawares."
. .
. 1 . 1 I:14D IntsumAN.-An Irish Priest
was'stAndirig at the corner of a square a
bout. the hour of dinner, when one of his
countrymen, observing the worthy father
4perple*ity, thus addressed him:
,"0, Pather O'Leary, how is your riy
ci•enee?"
•'"Mightily put nut, Tat," was the rally.
."Putout! who'd- put out your river
once;?"
. . _
! you don't . understand ; that
just it; I am invited to dine at one of
the houses in this Square, , and I have ihr
gotten the name, and I never looked at
the number, and now it, is nearly one
clock."
0, is that all ?" was the cry;' "just
now be aisy,.your riverence, I'll settle that'
for you." .
So saying, away flew the goad : natured.
Irishman.round the square, glancing. at.
the kitchens,. and when he discovered a,
fire that denoted hoipinditV, ho thunder
ed at, the door and inquired:
"Is - F ter O'Leary here?',
As might i•e expected, again and again he
was repulsed. At length an angry foot %
man exclaimed
. "NO ; bother' on 'Father o'l,,lary,
ig nr4:here' 'to-day, 'and 'the cook• is' :in li
mp; and is waiting-for Father
• Paddy leaping from the door as if the
steps were on fire rushed up to the aston
ished primt..saying.
-"All is rightt your riye,reace; you dine'
at 43, and a mighty good dinner you'll
get."
"0. -Pat !" said the grateful, pastor,
"the blmings of a hungry man be upon'
you..
-"Lbfig life and berpiness-to your river: -
ence! -I have got. -your malady, -only
witgly I had your curet"
=MOM
', '-•' 1,-