aU' the BEA4HWE WAUK. it KUMitra jUMffr wowmiw. ' After '.t*" And «nk *dowi «th*%d?!«ifcti p*l«*n •> -J ■ ; ■ ttaSwfctwfcirv* f. '«* i.Sw Nor moon no t tUfWiaevM, , '■ ’ They did BOf data i Though ' . Which, Wfewi iWdooHj , And Silence’* impaawontdWntH!«g« round; • • Sec lined wafcdertdf tatoewlAd* O aQlemnnieatihJtihfcatt . . “ Of Nature ! I here knowfegnlhaf IboO art . ' Bound uato nun’* by cord* hercatmot < And whtUimo they an pl'ttegK . Soto attest hi* own supernal Mftyr ; still runneth thy aid atrdng. The eliuikened ooH ! ~ ' . Pqr though we new apphe Of the gray water and tho thaded rock,— Dark wvretnd atone; tmconaciotuly, were ftaed Into the plaintive apoaking that wh need - Of abaentdriend* and meiuoriea uofhraook; And, bad we a«eq each other** face, we bad Seen, h*ply,cach waa aad. BaUAjStning TVuaaenp*. SELECT MISt'E fVom (It LiUlt Pilgrim, BOBIK HOOD OF SHERWOOD FOREST. BY GRACE GREENWOOD. 1 have said that Newsteid Abbey stood in the heart of old Sherwood forest. This, you will remember, was the favorite domain of that prince of outlaws, bold Robin Hood. There is Rule forest land about there now—- none, indeed that We should so call—all (be woods being enclosed in parks, and as care. Tolly kept as gardens. But, as I journeyed through the country, my thoughts so went back to the old, old time, that I almost ex pected. whenever we passed a grove of trees or a shadowy glen, to be suddenly surround ed by Robin'Hood’s merry men, armed with long bows, and clad in Lincoln greenr^_ You have all doubtless read many stories of Robin Hood; but if you will listen to mine, I hope I shall be able to tell you some things that you have never heard before. Robert Pilzooth, Earl of Huntingdon, was born at Locksley, in this connly of Notting ham, about (he year 1160, in the reign of Henry 11. He was left an orphan in his childhood, and placed under the guardianship of his uncle, the abbot of Sr. Mary’s, in York. This priest professed to be a just and holy man ; but, as it often is when poople make great pretensions to piety, he was far enough the other way. In those days, priests were greatly feared and honored, antLcoold do nrettv much as they pleased ; so fte abbot of S:. Mary’s, who was a hard, avaricious man, found no difficulty in taking advantage of the young Earl Robert. By such wily, wick ed ways as only priests know, he took pos session of all his nephew’s estates and reve nues one after another—pretending that he only meant to talc* cam of iham left! Robert. whom he accused of being a wild lad, should squander them In dissipation. Robert bore this for awhile, and tried hard to keep on peaceable terms with his uncle ; bat the old man was very provoking. He,would sit in the refectory of the splendid Abbey, at a din ner table loaded with every luxury in the way of food, served on massive gold and sil ver platA, and with half-a-dozen bottles of pood old wine before him,.and then lecture noor Robert upon temperance, self-denial, and sober, godly living, till Robert would smile grimly, and play with the hilt of his dagger in a way that (he old abbot did not like. * When the Earl of Huntingdon came of age, there was not a handsomer or mare gal lant young man among the nobility and yeo manry of England. He was tall, straight and athletic, with a quick, bounding step, and a brave, broad(breast. He had a command ing but pleasant voice, a hearty smile, clear, honest eyes, ruddy cheeks and lips, and his head, which he held rather haughtily, was crowned with clustering light brown curls. Though he belonged to a proud, aristocratic family, who, in tracing their pedigree, could go back, back, till, for aught I know, they lost themselves and their reckonings in the fogs of the first morning after the deluge— Hubert was not an aristocrat. He sympa thised with the common people, in that day shamefully imposed upon—taxed and (yean nized over by the bold barons am) hard-heart ed priests. He joined in all the merry-mak ings, their manly and warlike exercises; He became so skillful with fus bow that it is sail), be frequently sent an arfow.the distance of a mile. Froth among his friends be selected four'eomrades, who were always lrue to him —John Nailor, whom die nick-named " Little Mn,” Gfeorge-a-Grecn, Muck, a miller’s son a,od a jolly friar called Tuck—the only priest Robert could abide. One day, a small sprig pf the nobility, one Sir Roger, 'of Doncaster, taw him mingling with the hdneat yeomen in their sports, and sneered at his vulgaMas(es. ■ Robert replied by challenging him to n shooting match. Sir Roger-a arrow missed the target altogeth at, and stuck fast in the trunk,of a tree far-, iber on.- Robert; took aim at this shaft and. spin it clean nprto the middle. Then alt the yeomen shouted, and laughed ; and.Bir Roger **■•« so edraged-thatho was foolish.enough to accept a sbcood .challenge to a wresdiqg match, Earl Robert it brew-him so often that! be never felt fairly. On his {egs, but seemed always to;£e,bumping egaifiat.the ground. Allan his eentea werei'quite bumped out of, ' hun, and be lay.stiffomd, at ill. t E»rJ Robert tevivad him and. helpcdhim mortified aod.suUen, *tt4.i«ver, «fter had a mean, bitter spite against hia brave conqueror. If was not long after ,Robert; oafnpaf‘age, Wore he iwaa quite .cooviocedjlhfikjit; Wes vain to hope lo get his property out.pfithe close clutclj «f W* raseread relalive^ ; There/ *ma no aie, in.ihjt appealing to }W fJ Jtipg.; r *** dekd,ap7l V ~ ' ,j»r u •»•» •;>-.i. -■; T-’lmi'S! ‘W.SMJO rti ~• •r#OL*i !• *lb n , ;'£ulii: k i-'.rKM togetlwf Jhp fripnds, threwup bis |UTp, RpbioHopd, anitpqk’ W-wM •!$• time $ (btiijg «W jbjpftMqtfo but an iridpp^h? ! k “P w it la guitp 100 lale to my hero.outa goot}, hpoeslmnn, h.as'done won-, den ip ityrt way. iS. fcnapaite—for long, loitg ago it gpl Robin Hood was a. robber tJJutjn thopeold days, when aDd baMns rpbbed andpriests rol?bgd: alj, dp-Rtfey* ing bosinear deal morerespecta ble than it now to.and tto p&ly diferpqoo be, tween Robin Hood. and. tbeofhetsvwas, that he took onlyf«?ralhe rich and powerful, while they robbed .the poor and detepceless. The brave outlaw,.' was joined by the. best archers in (he .country, (o the number of a hundred stout mep and bold. These men he clad alt in Lincoln greep.a dress which made it hard to distinguish them at a little distance from the forest foliage-amid which they lurk* ed. When ony one pf these men was killed, or took’the slrankb notion to return to jus friends and turn honest man again, Robin Eldod would set out on a recruiting expedi tion. Whenever he heard of a young man of uncommon strength and hardihood, he would go disguised, and try him in wrestling or archery —then, |f 'satisfied, persuade the yerfman to enlist. This Was most often easi ly done—for those were, bard limes for the people, and Robin Hood had flattering tongue. So he kept himself m his hundred archers, and with them haunted the merry greenwood —Barnsdale in Yorkshire, Plomptou Park, in Cumberland, arid Sher Wood in Nottingham shire. Past, or through those forests ran the king’s highways, whereon traders, nobles and priests wore obliged to travel. But after Robin Hood became sovereign of these for ests, few journeys' could be safely made in their vicinity, Sometimes, just when travel lers began to breathe freely, and speak above a whisper, thinking themselves out of danger, Robin was down’ upon them, and they were obliged to come down with their money, or stand as targets for his archors. Knowing that it was not good for holy men to be cum bered with too much worldly wealth, he al ways made free with the purses of rich priesls. The old abbot of St. Mary’s himself, who once ventured to pass through Sherwood with a.rioh store- of gold and silver, guarded by fw» hundred men, fell into his hands. After ship on bis horse with his face toward the tail, and so sent him off toward York, fretting anmfuming, and some of Robin’s men said, swearing—but that could hardly have been. The money so wrested from the rich monks and arrogant barons, Robin Hood constantly shared with the poor, and so filled many a sad'home with mirth and comfort, and made glad and grateful the hearts of the widow and the fatherless. He was always tender and kind to women and children. Noble la: dies with retinues and treasures could pass in safety through his forests. One lime, a dan dy young nobleman, meaning to take advan tage of the generous outlaw’s gallantry, un dertook to pass through Sherwood, lending a train, in the disguise of a lady ; but at the first sight of a bond of archers, he showed himself so much more of a coward than a woman, that Little J[oha suspected him, tore off his veil and hood, and velvet mantle,.and made him pay nearly for the insult be had put upon womanhood. ' V ‘ USI. Of the thousand and one adventures rela ted of Robin Hood, I have only room in this short history for two ; the first showing how he made a friend—the second, how he won a wife, ’ . One morning, near- Sherwood, forckt, Rob in Hood met a young man walking slowly, drooping his bead and sighing deeply, and he thought to “'this poor fellow must be. melancholy,. mad, or in love—ld cither case he is to be pitied.” So he kindly ques tioned the youth,!who proved to.be a : yeoman by fhe namp ofpJWlßSoarlocke, He.(rusted Robin Hood . from the first, and told him he was grieving because n fair maiden whom’he loved, and who loved him, was that day to be mbrried by her friends to a rich,.old, man whom she detested. Robin. Hoed inquired the tjme and place to (he wedding, (hen tell ing Will to be of good heart, bounded off in to the forest, - . . , About noon there was a great ringing of bells at the church—then come the wedding parly and their Sr lends. The bridegroom looked very prdtid and pompous m his gold laced, velvet 'doublet and white silk hose; bul.he was wheezy and hard of hearing, and -sogoulythal. he had a little page lb ‘lift his; feel, first bna then the other, .tip the altar steps. The arid looked, wistfully around.for ‘her lover,’who was hidbobind f ,a pillar,waiting for Robin The cereond-, ny begap, and ’ Will was . gehing desperate. wheh,a tall man in' the dresp'lpf a heggatv standing near thealtar, dtew. id from his‘mantle and, t)lewa slarlhbgj blast. Instantly, fifty men in LipcaKgrehi? burst into the church and dispersed the bjn , dal pariy~dlt Iwfthe ribw> the whojnßbmd’Hbft! cOfrfl mahded- t<£ rt»rfy ttte faithfhl pair' at bhcO. ! If vak do^;%yietter'.«t\^ ! was the fost ftiertd af Rotna Hobd; - “, >■'>'*'«& ■ 6no'd4y}dfUrtuibgad<^V ! RlQhih t Hdd'd'- whs lerf-intdthepifk of thd'BarlfbfiT'tiaWiP ,ftt l ,. i 'Thh«;'4»' suddenly %tfdl that ‘bones, tud'siM W8fl ! oladlTDlfehti*bllb*Odhy Shf'Tbefiiatya hnSflttid’ 'leading by,the bridle a etfvrtitcli 1 dal' hands. Tma maiden KobinJt|p<^swg9i*- ft' wpjij*a - u/ j,u*v.ii^;Tr»' R*r

■ replied ike,l outlaw* “that l am' Robin-Hood, king Of l Sherwood v At wikd wotdi'ajl sik bfftHk ri)emdf>tfm¥ put ,Spurs to their hqnea ike prince Waa glad to fol)6wv scbwUiig 'Stflfi sing as he wedl, ’ Thka *£3. seems to Jrtvb been a ranahtic yq»dg,woroaD,;ftiDted, and fell into Robin Hood’s areas.' Andhe,nbt knowing exactly what (o do. for a lady in such a’ case, carried her to a brook,' and was abdet todip her head in the water, when she suddenly bafte to heK self. She then related ; to herpreserver how that bad prince, whom she hated with ail her might, had long been urging' her lo go with him to his wicked court; end how that after* noon, while she was walking in the park, he had surprised and carried her off. She told this story, reclining On a mossy hank; with Robin Hood sitting at her feel, looking (ip into her face. At last the twilight shadows began to fall, then be sighed, and said-— “ It is getting late, tny lady, shall 1- conduct you home 7” But the Lady Matilda bent toward him, blushing and'speaking very softly,' and' said, “you have saved me from shame and’ sorrow, henceforth I belong to you.” Robin Hood started up gladly, then sank back sadder than before, and said, “ No, lady no; you have been too delicately reared for an outlaw’s wife.” He then told her that though she might pot dislike forest life in the sunjmertirae, yet When the fall rains and winter frosts CatOe. ehe would find the cave in which he Uveddark and chill, and would sigh for her father’s cas tle halls. I But lady Matilda was strung arid healthful and had little fear of colds or. rheumatisms; she thought Robin Hood excessively hand some, and fancied that he would be the beet protector agajnst that naughty prince she could have; so she looked into his face with her beautiful blue, beseeching eyes, till he could resist her no longer, but lifted. her on her palfrey, and walked by her eida toward Sherwood forest, talking to her, holding her hand, and loving her better' and belter every stepr-They wera married at the camp by, jolly friar Took, and ha 3 a merry wedding feast. The nbxt day end Jo* 1 wirewmr too ■ taKetr sent a messenger to the Earl of Filzwater, telling him how they were married, and ask ing if be had any objections. He sent ward back that he disowned his daughter, .and nev er would forgive her; and made some rather unhandsome remarks upon the character or his son-in-law which roused Marian’s spirit. But the o|d Earl missed his only child and was so lonely in his grand castle, that at last it seemed to him he must see her, or he should die. So he disguised himself as a mendicant minstrel, and went to Rodin Hood’s camp. He was kindly received, and feasted with good game and excellent wine. After dinner, Robin Hood Hung himself down on a , bank of wild violets fora nap, and Marian began scattering daisies over him. The Earl watched them in their happiness and. thought of his own loneliness till be could stand it no longer, but bowed his head in his hands and I burst into tears. Marian knew that sob— she had beard it once before, when her motb |er died. She dropped her flowers, ran to her father, flung her arms around his neckband wepuviih him. Robin Hood sprang up and jouied' them! and all was-made up among-the' three. Earl Filzwater became quite Ibndof his son-in-law, though he often warned fiim that he would Come to the gallows if he- did' not mend-his ways. But Robin Hood never changed for better or worse. He continued to'lake-from the rich, and give to the poor; to play tricks and seek adventures in. disguise to tight the Iroopa-'of the king and the ; sher iff of. Nottingham; to bale, and war on all private Jo the lus|; He lived to be an old man, loved by the. poor, hated by. thq, rich, , : ~ At length he- fell ill of a lingering feyer, and, unluckily* went for heljp his, aunt— Elizabeth de Staynten, Prioress of.ffjrklesa nqnnery in Yorkshire—a woman who >haff great skill in medicine,;, His olff .epeipyi’Sir Roger, of Doncaster, bearing of tjiis, went - to her, and telling her shphadio h’erppwer a great gnemy (o, the church,,urged her on to a dark and a cruel,depd. , The Prioress wept., aloqejo Rgbip : Hood, as he lay (tossing end gasping with the fever, and pretending grpst' kindness, said she nWRI bleed jhim. He stretched out his arm and she opened ja large vein. 1 The blopd spouted bui.fiercel jtipl'flrst, Bpffran long , youthen qqlougb T? MpV'- ifl.Pood, again apd again, ; his , weaker weaker;. Put |hq, stern old ;om ;aq alvvays.spsvprpd. “ back cq,hi? P*l lcu f «od fainted,; :| 9i(i) .ihc Prir. i press 8(pod apd -lpoked !on jh/rir W 1? h«!d» : stony face—and stilt jhe .flkcpuch on which ho lay was all afloat with hiabtood. At Wit hW 'whito lips nioved'and eif brie Word that ioucfitedibecrdel hoa'rt;bf' ithe^TriOriM; 38 It Wakthe Aamdbf'His'nidihef' j kef 'otw» : "&ti& T‘" fotwa'rdiib; ■bind 1 uff the arm- abdfrtdpthe. bteediig—hW tbla IMS'! t’Hbßifl'lSdbdltvas'deaid l h!,! ff* c,! night ■p«noo» I was ‘ fifhi and'.jWpriin ceased to urge.’ Here is the’secret revealed'. Martin has losl allTclish for lKbtightofobreV-; vation, and ia only happy while in company with ethers of kindred habits,’ Redding he hates. oiid yp ts3 : cprrieVV,.,^' Who hWrioi witpeesedihocpapgetbaihoyi, came over ilartip prown. 'if was npi n rpjf, id'change—great efiadges neyjjc .Itjyai' a gradual, radical change. First-it hlindep him to the beauties oflnaiurev and religiotj, and (hen toa|M;enjoyineaiS'orvhome uniiFf|» -nally he saw beauty*only inlhe achievement* of. the clown* ordn being chief aotoiin a bar* roOtn cijabi'orsome hin'dred«ihtwemontB; : '« Great "etijarbdtdl iqiJenyM 1 ! ; r Airfii i tafeMori® i 'wX.Ti” ':il i;t-u Siz MKiißfi'tiifn m-WTOSaifiriu his «* the- ayiyrej" 7«if n i M if fiapr iif a r , yp. *5? *c : —■•' •■-•■•■ -■ ■ ■ i • •■*- ■ ■ . m-t ; nr * . .i i ..a vt. I. * ■ "i tSi'Kti) VAk'Lea&r. ■■’■'■■ -■:-'=■•-a-ty■afctCOjlTCßAST. '-f ,?A;i It is an established 'maxim, that, dhe of the sorest, 1 and perhaps the pTesaanrostlwjiysVof arriving at Ihd truth ls : by comparison.-: It is atapywfe, theWsitWiwtkytd determinewto live Worth ;' nitf hbhce; although We may-hot measure; We may arrive j6st ;eetl!oiia|es. "-We W w 111%$ fresriarks, in ordey ; ld sljow v thMjOdr pyect is to conjie as m»r as yyo 9Pd *0; .trtjih^- :’l|j this instance, comparing sl %i w « intend to run . , . , - JOHN During a JqQg pWriqtl,- the IriahNgjwptoViif-' feredlremthe hauteur, Mpf jpjqsiace pf the nation Inwhom tileir Jestipiea hap become united, but were 90 divided among themselves, that they could never be brought; tomake common cause against the common enemy, who had deprived them of their nationality, and-was hostile to the religion handed down [to them from St. Patrick. Alter the defeat of the army of James 11, at the battle of the Boyne, the energies of the Irish seamed pros trate. Tn© Prince of Orange lost h» oppor tunity to humiliate the party that hadjopposed hiiWio that memorable campaign ; ( ahd they, at length, became so low, that little, was left for their greatest enemies to desiris. But tjhe culminating point had been teached, and a brighter day 1 began to dawn upon the unhappy land. The light of a few brilliant minds began) to exhibit to-the. eyes of man kind the political darkness that had been spread over the fair face of the island, and a few manly hearts dared to begin to plead at the tribunal of genera! sympathy; for (heir unhappy and oppressed -country, 1 Foremost- Smong them was'Emmet. Disdaining to sue when Supplicatipn was of little avail, his fiery spirit, unable to brook the insult end contumely of his country’s oppressors, nobly resolved to resort to the last, but; often best argument of the oppressed, the sword ; and thenceforth everythin'' - attainment .of (I heart, his counl ties of kindred, make life desin sacrificed to this society of a youi not divert him ft Ho missed hi: iog etlempl; bi friends, and desei erlies he bed stL all he pos seised, with What af «ou| .did be bohr'up against his misfortunes.. 'When upon the very threshold of death, his unco'n-, quered spirit defied the executors of his enemy’s vengeance, and before his burning eloquence bis judges trembled as if (hey had already lasted of the punishment their venal conduct deserved. He chose to die, ralhe'r than live to hear the groans of his suffering countrymen, or retract the principles for which ho had contended. His death was his coun try’s proudest triumph. In dying, he be queathed to it a name and spirit which will eventually make triumphant the cause for wHiCh he contended. j(| Ireland vtas again prostrated. Again was the foot of the oppressor upon her neck ; and again a few gallant spirits, impatient of the law’s delay, resolved to cut their way to lib erty by the sword. Bqt through the mad ness of an infgrialed zealot, alt their schemes were defeated ; and the mature deliberations of intelligent and patriotic minds were en tity overthrown by the insane rqnlings and demoniac disposition of ibis one man—John Mit'chell. When, clubs were formed for the training, of the peasantry, John Mitchell be gan his,political career as a petty officer (pro bably a drill sergeant in one of them.) Suc cess, on a email scale elevated his ideas of his own importance, and he ventured to give his views through the press. , His (jrsi efforts in l bie, ,I,‘no displayed such ignorance of the rules which regulate dhe'English language, thgt.it was impossible to prjnt his: epistles in (he. respectable journal to which hb,addressed them; but.as he appeared to bo> enthusiastic in. the cause in wbich h be had enibarked, he was encouraged : to, pefsevere.v 'He 'ditf so; and.was in course of dime regularly connect ed with the pressi' t Thß positido hd now occupjedrenlitled him tothb 'privilege of at lending' the' trieefings of the leddetb; and hlejng endowed trilh a prying inquisitiveness, and unlimited asauraitM, he obtained posses ion of sOmo of Ihbir secrets. ija order to keep-Mm froth betraying them, (hey admitled Hud to their councils, Butthey dld.not JtnoW the man. • As soon aslhey became| acquainted with his, disposition, they expefledjhim. 'For, With 4‘ m'eanness unparalleld, fhe plabs jhat h'& heard 'pjdppsed'tih'd upon ip their he < mm wi*•»OKin.he was MnDpcjed qsbisown. and .jtaptaf. spflaewhai Butj jwliwi respect of all who. kb?FiA'd?i. refused employ "}% OT opmSMiM an 3 p eciiohs nv,u JH&- • peopff. by .'“duoing them.iO-Diipr iMrpe#. of reason and the eipfcjso of, ttebighem/ac-, ulijea of luffiefent personal, fyftfcge* t?,l placebtpi kt iho head nounte<[" u J>oa-iho -wing* -of bolts.di the heads or His trCmbiing and awe stricken enemies. His countenance lighted as by something supernatural, ibis words tied' the weight of prophecy, as he denounced bis country’s oppress Ors. and-pointed to the bea. con light the Teachings of his fancy had dis covered in the future. Mitchell, under all circumstances, was but a ; special pleader; and whether before the people, the bar, or the judges, sought to secure his personal lib erty by the faults in the statute books. met was (he lion, whoseundaunted heart op posed singly the whole power of bis enemies. Mitchell was but the mouse, who made inef fectual efforts to nibble through the meshes in which he had entangled himself. The course of Emmet’s life was that of the stream whose source was tna eternal glaciers of libferty, the noise of whose pure waters dashed and chafed against the rocks of despotism, until overcoming all obstacles, they at length reached the sea of universal freedom. Mitch - ell’s waS like that of lha babbling, brook, whose source is egotism, stealing its puny way through different lands, ■' and partaking of Hie impurities of every soil; through which it passes. . light Signs of a Hard Drinker, 1»< Sign.—' When drinking is associated ifl the mind with times and places, such as Chrisimas and New Year’s day, the fourth of July, &c., or with the sight qfr a tavern or grocery. 11 ■ B ad Sign. —A disposition .to! multiply oq.- casions ol drinking, such as hold or heat, A new hat or coat, or piece of furniture, trails for new comers, and for mistakes in business. 3rd Sign . —When the desire of drinking returns a stated.times |n a day, as before breakfast, .before dinner, in the afternoon or evening, or when meeting with certain per flniyi S. , Ath Sign. —When (here ia an anxious de sire for concealment—a taking, of a .glass privately, or using of means .to .prevent dis covery by the breath. slh Sign. —When a man drinks as much as he thinks he cap bear without exciting a suspicion in the minds of others. Sign. —When a man boasts) of bis power to drink or let it alone and talks loud T fy and earnestly about opr free country—his being a free man and that temperance socie. ties design to unite church and state—or that they are a speculation, a money-making, or a political contrivance. 7th Sign. —When a man refusesjo join,« temperance society because wine, beer, and cider, tea, &c., are not prohibited in the con. stilution, This is an infallible sign that the objector loves rum, Btk (Sign.—When a man is irritated at tho efforts made Ip suppress intemperance; ob. jects to, the measures of temperance societies; tells about the members drinking behind the door; of their buying rum, and calling it pit, and when .he pleads that the moderate use will do no hurt. . Reader; do any or all these signs apply, to you and especially does this plainness of speech ofitsnd.you-l Then you have reason -to be alarmed and flee from the bottle as you, would flea from-the pestilence.— Standntd, 4rcltilecli and Builders. The laie Mr. Alexander, architect of Roch ester bridge;'and other’floq buildings in Kent, was once under dross-e?atiAinalion m a special jury case at Mepdstpne,by Sergeht,afterwards Baron Garrpw, tvjjo wished to detract from, the weight of his' testimony; After asking him what was his narrib, the-sorgeht proceeded!: “ Yon'are'd'bhilder, I believe 1” J ,; , ’ ,l ", “No, sir, f art nof a' Builder, ! art ah' ar chitect.” . ' “ Ah! wellarchitect pr huilder or architect, they! are much I aupMsbf** “ I beg your pardon, sir,' l can not ed&ii that; I consider them totally different.’’',"' “Oh, indeed !—pejhap?' you will slate wherein this great-difference consists”' ; 11! “ A n architactvsir, prepareB the ceivea the design, draws 6ul,lJio specihcaijSt|s —in isHort, supplies thn mind; ls merely the tfip carpiaiUef—the ' builder is-in Tact the mnchihe pthp'architecV the power thatpms the machipe tplotherj and sets it a going,” v ' - ' y ! " s “ Oh, Very'wcllj Mr. Archjiect. that Wjll d,'f Ms of sugar," {ptyj-. „.,