-asp Fntkt Agiuar. CLIII A. BT 1. UOlf. A •£»«>*,fliU, ipi deep and low,. . ~ . ' LilmUiO Wft •pirttdf » dnutt,' L .■' A ToicdaM rigfa u beard. How oJm, ' ' , -Bn! ArtlAtiwW to ■ - * >1 llieif w»Wh 'lit pftwwfed Bedd. ; ■v: >,'!,(* Ok *tort W»pittrtle*,i " anead ~ , Upon (be alaipfea* amur,fl»ke’» breast, 7bv fflro M aMde.jUialJorvtnj preaa Upon thypnrt brdw’rßarfsn while, To show, e’en-in it* perfectness, - TJion artless pftw tiansylph* of light 7 AndtlpU low sigh, scares heard ebon - - ' The tendering fairy's nmmmnlig tone That grieve* for unrequited lore, - .A*-tithetwilightinardooe,. ■ '■ , • Bha pith upon the tinytof , . And *igh», apd wee pa her pearly leva, And pour* cdmpUimngly her grief Into the Zephyrt fending ear*— ■ • ’ dta it'thi dreaming tptrft’ssleh, ■ A* o’er the gulden field*-of light .It wander*-where the eternal* lie, And spttkle on the hrowaf fyigbt 7 •Or, 1* ’t the drtim pf those lone hoar* That in the fhtore. gentle'one,-' £,en 'miiitbo fiireatof earth's bower, . Like lwillght, when the day i* done, Way o’er thy tout their shadow* flingj . and'deepening a* they Sow, TTlll, in thy spirit’s sorrowing, Tboc'll link beneath thy weight cf woe 7 Ot ieH the yearning sigh for lore, Mow, germ-like in thy infant breast, for vine dad bower and leafy grove, AnJ Cupids to thy bosom prest 7 Sweet child*. J** hwf »f lore is thine, ieafy dad green .»M foil of bloom. Where tendrils gently ronuf? thee twine. And flowerets yield thee rich pe’Auae, Bat buwers beyond the star gemmed shy. Where lore shall live and glow forever, Noftrust grow cool, nor anguish sigh, Nor bliss be lost, aor friendship sorer, Are wailing thee my child; o’pn now The angel’s wing is Battering algb, And casts its shadow o'er thy brow, ' Wailing to bear'thee to the sky. And thou art for tho ambrosial bowers, Too pare for earth, my stricken one— Heaven culls the Surest of earth's flower*,' And plants them round bis shining throne. SELECT MISCtLLAM. FilfPEßlSilL THE CAUSE AHD A HEXED?. Vh, Riddle Any ooe who will observe must see lhat tb e poor are crowded into cit ies, which they are very unwilling to leave —(hat our lands are uncultivated wastes, while the hands that should make them blos som as the rose, are learning the arts of pau perism and crime in unwholesome dens and caves of the earthra dirty alleys where sun-light, pure air and greeo%rass are sup plied in homoeopathic quantities, or totally forbidden. There must be some great under lying cause Tor this; a cause outside the in dividual dwellers in such places. It is not man’s natural propensities which induce him to build and crowd into great cities, those great ulcers on the bosom of mother earth, for man in a state of nature never commits such a blunder. When the earth is free to all, people distribute themseh-e over it, aod enjoy the common blessings of nature.— It is not until civilization has made large ad vancea that light, air and tamin' twenrnn pensive commodities. It is not until the land becomes monopolized by a part of mankind that the rest are crowded into a given number of square inches of space ; aod to my mind nothing is plainer than lhat the great remedy for city pauperism is land limitation—a law which shall limit the number of acres any one man may own to the number one family may be able to till. So long as thousands of acres of land in the immediate vicinity of large cities shall lie waste, and all occupa tion or cultivation of them be prevented by the avarice of a few owners, »o long must these cities be cursed with crowded alleys, pauperism and crime. I As 1 have already stated facts to show that the poor cannot be driven out of your city, even by the prospect of starvation, nor coaxed bv wanes on the terms usually offered, it is but fair to say that the fault is not wholly theirs, They are first driven into the city, and having acquired its habits, cannot reason ably be exacted to break them all up with out a great effort. hi the coarse of our first year of farming experience, I discoveied the causa of the uni versal trouble about girls, and since that lime have had no diffiuclly. Ido not know how it is in other states, but in this, there is a dole ful lock of agricultural laborers, especially m the domestic department, and in looking for the cause I take into account that Penn sylvania was principally settled by Germans and Irish. As it is scripture wisdom to look 01 the rock from whence we were hewn, and dhe hole of the pit from whence we were digged, let us recall the Dutchman—by no means a myth—who thought the pretended freedom of this country all a humbug be cause a man could not whip his own wife. — Wo have a neighbor who was lately clearing a piece of ground on the aide of a steep hill. A German resident inquired if he would plow ill . . • „ "Oh nowas the answer, “it is 100 steep. “Oh, by shure we plow that in Germa ny.” “Plow that I Why man, a horse could not walk on it! How would you plow it 7" ,■ “MU vomans!’ 1 was the-sturdy response. “With women, Charley!” exclaimed the owner of Jbe tillable land, doubling his hav ing heard aright. “Ofi yes, hitch eight vomans in; they blow dal very goot.” While the Pennsylvania Railroad was in course of grading, some Irish lived in a shan ty near. The women carried all the coal used, from the pit a rode distant. ■ The own er of the coal told one of the husbands to bring his cart and draw coal for his family. “An’ be mo faith, an’ what would she have to do thiol" was the reply. These are extreme cates of the spirit of our ancestors, but 1 assure you, sir, the blood has net run out in the did Keystone State, as you will see at once by referring to pat laws which declare a man’s title' to the services of bis wile, end enable him to collect her wages,!— lo the cities the peculir marks are fast wear ing out; but in the rural districts,, the old sturdy German spirit which 1 bitches “de vo mans in de blow” is still very precepjtable in Us workings. From all hare been able to make. It is my firm conviction ; -vi,; * >il'. h r;.. COBB, STCRrOCK i CO;.’ " VOL. L that, on an average, each Pennsylvania far mer's wifedpes as ranch drudgery ns three house'servants in any slave State in this On- It is a ter; common thing Tor a woman to milk from five to night, cows, prepare all the soft feed the; g# and .givo .it to them—the men throw down the fodder and sometimes help loohuro.* She lakes care , of the milk and makes the butter, enough generally for family use and to buy what groceries are wanted. She, takes care of the poultry, feeds the lambs, makes and works whatever gar den is made.and worked, except perhaps, the digging, and perhapd*sbe does that too.— Then, she makes and mends and washes all the clothing for the family, and cooks all the food. She knits all the. stockipgs and' darns them sews on all the buttons, and, oiler a fashion, does the work of three or four peo ple In sickness or health, in fair- weather or font, her toil goes on without intermission. Sleepless babies at night must not interrupt early breakfast in the morning; and cows must be milked before fly-lime, despite head aches or crying children. As to paying a nurse for taking charge of a newly-arrived baby and its mother for one, two or tljree weeks, I never knew of but two instances of the kind in all the rural districts; and in these, sympathising friends not a few, thought the ill-used husbands bad ample causa for di vorce, although they themselves had got so many removes from the plowing women as to bear with the whim pretty patiently. The husband who provides a girl at one dollar, or one dollar and twelve and a half cents per week, for three or four weeks, to do all the work of the family and look alter wife and baby, has done all that public opinion requi res of him. True, it is not always good economy, for instances of long illness, fretful children, con firmed ill health, or heavy' doctor’s bills, are not uncommon results ; but these are provi dential evictions. As a consequence of this system, a farmer's wife generally forgets how to write her own name by the time she is ten years married, and two years from the wed ding day would not undertake to write a let ter to her nearest friend except on a great emergency. How women thus situated can be fit to train children, is a question which answers itself; but that thousands of women are so situated, in this state, every body rtiay know by opening bis eyes, and this while tbou sundavbf ponr women are suffering (or want of vtoih, naa uer force, to hecnmn paupers. The remedy for both evils is for each Penn sylvania farmer to become ashamed of requir ing from his wile as much work ns any hu mane South Carolina planter would exact of two stout wenches. Then, let him build a widow’s collage within sight and call of his kitchen door, appropriate an acre of his poor ly cultivated land to the special use of the oc cupant, plant half a dozen fruit trees on it, a few currant and rose bushes, a grape and Itop vine, whitewash it nicely, put up a hen house four feet square, no matter how rough, raake.a cave of (ike dimensions, and give the whole a nice home-look ; then go to the city and hunt up a decent widow, with a fam ily, rent her the house and ground for ten or twelve dollars a year, and engage to give her and her children work, i The entire improvement Could bo made for one hundred dollars ; and ten dollars a year would pay a very good interest on it and the y aljie of the ground. It would be a sure in vestment. Or it would be as safe as money “leA at the broker’s.” As many may doubt that a house can be built for so little, let me give some description. When logs are plenty and convenient, it is my impression a snug little house sixteen or eigh teen feet square could be put up and made comfortable for fees than one hundred doll ars ; but when they are not to be had, ordi nary laboring men can build a nice liue board house by placing four sleepers on stone tests nail boards to these, upright, .first at the cor ners i have scantling of lengths to correspond to the sleepers j fix them seven feel above by props until the top ends of the boards are made last to them, when the 1 prime difficulty of the building process is over. Side it up with boards running up and down, nail strips over the cracks outside and in; lath to the inner strips and put on one coat of plaster as smoothly as possible, which will make it Close enough. Let the front and back wall bo sev en feet high ; fix cross ties half way up the roof for the ceiling, and the room will be high enough for comfort and health. The' cheap est and most suitable roof is of rough floor ing boards, the grooves filled with a mixture of iwo-tbirds coal tar and one third linseed oil, giving the whole a thorough coating after it is put on, and sprinkling it thickly with sand.' By, having the reof extend’’over one fool 6t eighteen inches, and putting brackets under, making a window and door-in front, a window in one gable with a hood ■ over it,- a chimney in the other, a door St the other side with a little rough perch over one "for both doors, the outside whitwashed and at We part- ly shading .it, a house of sxteeo : or eighteen leet square, would be pretty andattractive.— With the little'hen house, barb and ad 1 oven OfCal and 'clay,'’ its young fruit trees, truck patbh, bushes and green, a ward, it would be a paradise compared to the rooms occupied by the poor id farge cities. ; Then the .labor of ihe iOmatCs’, if, well directed, would hie a Wes. sing to a farjnet, that dollars and cents wilt not cortipiite, A decent widow woman Within call to come in odd do "chores,” where she cpiild. look (Mitabd oee r that all was Well about her own domicil, would be a valuable acquisition to the over-taxed farmer’s wife; .while little boys and .'gifts would be a greanttsiatanoe farmelr in bpxn planting, fruit 'pteWogiTltSelo nn TT ■lrv.'tß) - I 'la-psi'P 1 li ;-i .'fill ■fe-y; if WBUSBOSOWH, TIOGA C.): (iftw O) L'4? j. ui ■, 1 I.'!m “■THE; AMTATIO^'j tK’ £ weeding and ihg, (Sfr/ibd-gdibg, anij Vsribtos olbef 'mater#, Thm a 'closs pt laborers wouli begji# -'’w •''-"mijitV nof dila Cases lilce the ooe l amabout to relate are pouch tpofrequent io our country, and they •re such* too ns should be guarded against by all who have an interest in education. The in* cident was brought lomindby hearings com* plaint made by the parent ofa poor boy, who had been grossly neglected by the teacher of the village school. Neglected because he was poor and comparatively friendless ( Many years ago when I w«aa small boy, I attended school in ihetown of —Amoef; the scholars tbers'was a boy named George Henry. His father was a poor drinking man, and the unfortunate boy had to suffer in con sequence. George came to school habited in ragged they word the best he had; he wasltmgh and uncouth io his man ners, for he had Seen brought bp in this man ner ; be was very Ignorant, for he had no op portunity for education. Season.. aAer season, poor George Henry occupied (he same seat in (he school room, it was a back corner seat away from the other scholars—and there he thumbed bis tattered primer. The ragged condition of his garb gave a homely cast to bis whole appearance, and what of intelligence there might have been in his countenance, was beclouded by the outer covering of the boy. He seldom played with the other children, for they seemed to shun him; -but when he did, for a while, join with them in (heir sports, he was so rough that be was soon shoved off out of the way. The teacher passed the boy coldly in the street, white other boys, in better garbs, were kindly noticed. In (be school young Henry was coldly treated. The teacher neglected him, and then called him an idle blockhead, because be did not learn. The boy received no incentive to study, and consequently he was moat of the time idle, and idleness begat a disposition to while away the time in mis chief. For this he was whipped, and the more idle and careless be became. He knew that he was neglected by the teacher, and sirriply because he was poor and ragged, and with a sort of sullen indifference, sharpened at lime* by feeling of 'bitterness, ho plodded on bis dark thankless way. . —..wai years. | Most of the scholars who were of George Henry’s age, had passed on to higher branch es of study, while he, poor fellow, still spelled out words of two syllables, and still kept his distant seal in the corner. His father had sunk lower in the pit of inebriation, and the unfortunate boy was more wretched than ever. The look of clownish indifference which had marked hia countenance, was now giving way to a shade of unhappy thought and feel ings, and it was evident that thmgreat turn ing point of his life was at hand. He stood now upon the step in life from which the fate of after years must lake its cast. At this lime a man by the name of Kelley look charge of the school. He was an old teacher, a careful observer of hutnau nature, and a really good man. Long years of guar dianship over wild youths had given him a bluff authoritative way, and in his discipline he was strict and unwavering. The first day be passed at the teacher’s desk of our school, was mostly devoted to watching the movements of the scholars, and studying the dispositions with which he had to deal. Dpon George Henry his eyes rested with a keen, searching glance, but evidently made little of him the flrst day; but on the second day he did more. I It was during the afternoon of the second day that Mr. Kelley observed young Henry engaged in impaling flies upon the point of a largo pin. He went to the boy’s seal and after reprimanding him for bis idleness,'he took np the dirty, ta’Uered primer from his desk. . . “Have you never learned more than U in his book?" asked iheteacher. “No sir," drawled George. “How long have you attended school t 1 ’ “1 don’t know, sir; It's ever since lean re member." “Then you must bo an idle reckless boy, styd the teacherr with much severity. “Do you realize how many years you have thrown away? Do you know how much you have lost ? What sort of a roan do you intend to make in this way.? 'One of these days you will be too old to go to school, and then, while your companions ore seeking honorable employment, you will, be good for nothing. Have you parents."' “Yea, sir," answered the boy in. a hearth subdued voice; •’ “Anti do they wlsh you to grow op ah ig norant worthless roan ?" '' '■ . The boy had bong down bi» head and .was silent | but Mr. Kelley saw two great tears ; toll down bis cheeks. In an instant the teach er saw that he bad something besides an idle atnbborn roiodtO deal with in the ragged scholar before 1 him. Be laid bis hand on the boy’s head, and id a kind too* he said. “[ wish ybu"to stop after school is dismis sed.- Do not bo afraid for I wish to assist you'if 1 cdn." 11 ■ ’ George looked wonderingly into the mas* ■ ler’i'facei for there was something in ,the tone 1 of the voice which foil upon his ear that aoun ded strattgely; tb him and ha thought, (00, as he looked' around that tbeTrest of the schol ars-: regarded him with kjpder countenances than usual: A r dim'drought broke in upon bis mind, that from cause, he was going to bo happier 'lhan’before, -4:tWr the school was 'Haolpy: icmainbd in. V" rsv^/vr .w! ,V% i.’l ilnir:- iT. •L*r rt'tri} *|| *** ?' • \ '.’•’i' P'j'wti: '''fill r "ti'"f "<1 -1'- ,• .!■ >vinavam wwsoqituiia, 0? iUTO PA., IHpSDAT MOBMNG. IfABCH m m ' ;■ --'f -”* - I 'B ■•' yi ;;■ M'-V I V'i *-inl 1 * ':tTU fii bis him lobia deski NoW, said MrKel)y,“f>rth tofcoowwhy it is'(bat you base never learned ariy more. Ybu look bright, ahdloOk aslboogh you might make? a smnrtimari. Whyis jt that I find you So ignorant ?’ 1 , 7 “Because nobodyeverhelps me.replied the boy., Nobody cates for me, ifor lam "poor,” By’; degrees the' kind-hearted ” teacher. got the poor boy’s whole hiaiory, and whilogen eroua-teara bedewed bis. eyes he said;’ . ,’' " “You havebeen wronglyjrpaled Gfsorie, very wrongly; but there h? yet time,for re demption, , If. rwUl try td teach you, will you Jry to learn T” “tea—oh, yes. quickly uttered the hoy.in earnest tones., Yes—l should love to learn. I don’t waht tp be a bad boy, be feelingly ad ded,' while hip countenance glowed with un wonted animation: " Ur. Kelleyiproroised to,purchase books for the boy as fast as he .could learn to read them, and when George Hear; left the school room his face was wet with tears. We schol ars who had remained in the entry saw him come out, and pur hearts were warmed to wards him. We spoke kindly to him, and walked with him to his house, and his heart was too full for utterance: On the next day, George. Henry commen ced studying in good reamest, and the teach er helped him faithfully. Never did T see a change so radiant and sudden as that which took place in the habits of the poor boy. As boo a as the teacher treated him with kindness and reapectj the scholars followed the example, and the result was, they found in the unfortunate youth one of the most no ble hearted, generous and truthful playmates in the world. Long years have passed since those school boy days. George Henry has, become a man of middle age, and in all .the country (here is not a man more beloved and respect ed than he is. And all is the result of one teacher having done hjs duty. I You who are school-teachers wcmember (he responsibility that devolves upmiyou. In this country of free schools, there should be no distinction between classes. All are alike entitled to your carej and counsel, and the more weak the chiltl the mqre earnest should be your endeavors to lift him up.and aid him. Fashion In Old Times. New England al the trying period to which it relates: Late in the after noon of one of the last days in Mav, ’79, when I was a few months short of fifteen years old, notice came to Townsend, Mass., where my father used to live, that fifteen soldiers were wonted. . The training band was instantly called out, and my brother next older than myself, was one that was selected. He did not return till late at night, when all were in bed. When ■I arose in the morning, I found my mother in tears, who informed me that brother John-was to march the day after to-morrow, at sunrise. My father was at Boston, in the Assembly. Mother said that though John was supplied with summer clothes, he must be away seven or eight months, and must suffer for want of winter garments. There was at this lime no store and no articles to be had, except such as each family would make itself. The sight of a mother’s tear always brought alt the hid. den strength of the mind to action. 1 imme diately asked her what garments were need-, ed. She replied, “pantaloons.” “Oh! if that is all,” said I, “we will spin and weave him a pair before he gbes.” “But,” said my mother, '‘the wool is on the sheep’s back, and the sheep are in the lasturc." I immediately turned to a younger brother, and bade him take a salt-dish and call them up to the yard. Mother replied, “poor child, there are no sheep shears within three miles and a half.” “I have some small shearsia the loom,” said I. “But we can’t spin and weave it in so short a time. “ I am certain we can, mother,” “How can ydu weave it t There is a long web of linen in the loom.” “No matter, I tan find on empty loom.” By this time the sound of the sheep imade mei quicken my 'Steps towards Che yard. 1 requested my sister to bring roe: the wheel and caids, while I went for the wool. I went into the yard with my brother, and secured a white sheep, from .which I sheared wi|h my loom shears, half enough for the well: we then let her go with the rest of the 1 Sent tho wool in with myslsier. Luther ran for a black sheep, and held hen-whils; I cut off wool for'my fUUng and half the warp,and then weallbwed her logo with the remaining pan of her fleece. ; . The Wool thus obtained , was duly cafded and spun, wished,’steed ahd dried $ iUoorti was found a few' doors off, the web got ,in, woven sod prepared, out and made (wo ijf three hours -before .my; departure, lhat is to say, in forty hpure (Vein the com mencement, without help from any rr|dderh improvement. The igood .qld .lady closed bj saying, “I felt no wept pot— was serving, roy country ; I wqsassiating ray poor mother; I was. preparing a garment for, my darling brother.. , .. .. i. ..The garment, being, finished, I retired and, wept* till my overcharged anffburstiug heari waarelieved. . * ■. n ,-i That brother wai'one 6f Gen.i Stark's Min diers, and with such a spirittb cope with,: ncedwoworider that Burgoyne did . not eXe curt bts threat ofmatching through America; * 1 1 7* * r Ji ,• ia.a wJhoolmasrtrbkeafitoU-maker; Becauta be caneaiflMOßU.' 0 m iii. 5 'l.; [m .KOBV.it T rrt r„j ' '-' r ■■■’ .-.i : ■'i rp :?r . < . . ■ PUBLISHERS. .& PRpPRT^roES. * r .v [l** following beautiful poem !■ (jam tin pea of air. Wm.R. B**x Of Coming, N. Y n who read a poem in (hit place a little lime since.- > The great excellence of this poem consists in its naturalmsi. There it k charming naitx/q Of 'expression seldom ihdnlgod in (hit Alexander Smithean tjje. We find H iff Phtakm for March, io.ifa.] ' ■■ B E SS IS, BeMs wean a gown of red, _Ahottiespungown sod apron Utter Sho baa no bat upon her bead, , And her wec brown fist are without • ehoe. Beaale hashair tthe the sunset's fold, Arid her, ayes were boro fiora tbs deep bias isc In their depths is a story told— Iloro Bessie *«d the lores me. Bessie's hands are hard with toil. And her cheeks are dark with the wind and rain; Bat ber lips aro rich with the rosy spoil, That if orich I taste, I most taste again. Bessie hsa'rie’or a silkin gown. Nor.a crimson hat our a necklace fine, Bnt she weaves of cowslips s golden crown, That I’d rather than any queen's, were mine, Bessie dwells in a lowly col— A lonely cabin' with trembling walls; ' ■Tis old and poor, but she thinks it not, And lores it better than lordly halls. She counts the stars as she goes to sleep, And loves to listen to the pattering song, That over her bead the rain-drops keep, 1 In the April weather, all nightlong. Bessie’s step is light as a fawn’s, And her voice like the chiming of silver bells; 1 hear it oil in the .summer morns. But 1 dare not whisper what it tells! Lingering and dying round my heart, Ever and ever its echoes be; ■ Who shall diride us, or what shall part 1 I.lore Bessie and she loves me. Origin of Silk. Id the early stage of the Christian era, the inhabitants of the little island of Coos, in the jEgean, near the coast of Africa, were ac customed to manufacture a species of silk'or rather a sort of thin gauze, from the web of a worm, which they fed upon leaves of the oak, the ash, and the pine trees; and this Coan manufacture, the invention of a woman, was tong admired and extensively used, both in the East and at Rome, tor female dresses. They were however, after a while superseded by the Chinese sjlks, which at that early period were so cosily that but few, compari lively, could afford to wear them. Aurelian is said to have complained that a pound of silk was sold at Rome lor twelve ounces of gold. The Phoenecian women sdroalimesam. an intarmnitii-o than two hundred years after the age of Pli ny, the use of silks as a garment was entire ty confined to the female sex ; and it is said that the Emperor Elagabolus was the first Roman who, by the adoption of this efferai nito habit, “sullied the dignity of an Empe ror and a man." Silk wag supplied to the Romans by the agency of the Persians, who id their turn, procured it, with quantities of aloes, cloves, nutmegs and sandal wood, from the Chinese merchants, and conveyed it to their own country, at first by long, toilsome and dan gerous journeys in Caravans, and subsequent ly by vessels which carried on a beneficial trade between the silk merchants of China and the inhabitants of the Persian Gulf. As the use of silk became more arid more indispeosible to the Romans, the Emperor Justinian, id (be middle of (ho-,sixth century seeing with concern that the Persians had se cured, both by land and sea, the monopoly of this important supply, and that tho wealtlT of his subjects was continually drained by a nation of enemies and idolaters, tried various expedients'to remedy the difficulty but with-' out success. Finally two Persian monks, ac tuated by some stronger impulse than that of patriotism, and encouraged by the promises and persuasions of Justinian, penetrated the, Silk growing country,and concealing a large number of the eggs, of tho silk worm in a j hollow cane, succeeded in returning safely { and in triumph with their spoils. These eggs were batched by artificial heal, and the worms' being carefully taken care of, and fed on-mul berry leaves lived, and labored, and wove their golden tombs and soon the Roman s achieved a greater perfection in the art of ed dealing the insects and manufacturing the silk than the Chinese Ihemsqlves. Siuceihat period the culture and manufacture of silk has never been confined exclusively to any distinct portion of the earthy but has been en couraged and practiced whenever end where evter it could be made profitable. The south ern countries of Europe, however—France, Italy and Spain—still retain the supremacy which they obtained in the sixth century; and it is from these countries that we now de rive our finest silks and most costly and'lux urious laced. —Boston Journal. Qdbbr Dodge. —lt his been discovered tbtfl the keeper of a larger beer collar in /be Bowerf, New York, for the purpose of eva ding the law requiring him 4o close his place do Sunday, bits'been in the habit-of holding pretended religion# services therein, officia- I (rig himself astho leader of thecefefhonies. He P takes the Bible, reads a chapter or two, serves earih of his hearers with a glass'of beer, and takes up : a collection] As the Constitution' pfdbably'did not contcmplato'sb much liberty of consciences, hra arrange ments will bo interfered with by the pd lice 1 , ■' Woman’s RiOßTsPsootAiusD.— Old Chan ticleer awakes in the morning, flaps his wings, vociferates (ft the top of his Voice: “ Woman rilfcs h-e-r-e!” fmrriediatelya - neighboring rdt&tef OhsWors-ijgSo they do hrt*-e !” Thia.U 'no soon'Srnitered than a third re appndi at; a considerable distance—“So theyl do l’’ In this woman’s fightd era it is significant ~fot old-ChanlictoQt is a keen observer! and k'bows, , iaii. . iZ—wH <■■ fit's • ®°** - oocaa. i v; r-tbpo on a idtiuoißidfligb, n* Wi waa notorioustor legyftui balMitruh? «cmg:iiecwd thirl. iWhile.here j».*M:i£ vited to auead a gay and fashionable patty* to .ha gtvpDi intbofpllpwiogeyening at the rwideaca qf Judge „ visiting Judge war terribly, perplexed,, about andean end hit mina how hS ‘should, hirasejf of tpe (in ihdto days ready sede shirts'were'npt as now, articles of mbrchan; dize,) when he wSa. called on hit, bis ',rpdm, by r * fi-r-- i ranoiher limh of the Jaw. ?ht a Jpdge. ‘ ‘After passing the. usual com* pliroents, Judge A—— -remarked. . See hgfC, C—! have just beeo. invited to' a£ tend a petty rigid* ttjtfgiWr'iU a clean shirt. for the. occasion—hoping,. no doubt, mat his friend wouM'pWfici l the loan of one pf his. But being a oft of A wag uid reliahiog a good amazingly, hft Jw«h ded to have* little fhh. andAt.tbb'eaibb fttoe learq his judicial friend a legion concerning his negligent , (here’* no difficulty about that, l ean have you One made. But do you think iVtmn'te' in time? said Judge A ■■ ■ No doubt about it. I have a shhrtmakor who is perfectly prompt and reliable, and I can vouch for its being ready. All right, then if you’ll be sure and attend lo it. ' • )* * * »*v ■'i .•» -H i m 37. You may depend on if, said the. fudge's friend. ,Il shall be here by half-past six (0- morrow evening. ■ 1 ' 1 ’ v; C —, in going homo that night, edited at (ho lady’s and ordered her to go to $ -’s store, get nine yards of bleached ■ domestics and three yards of linen, and make a shirt of it for Judge A———, and.deliver it as bis room, on the following evening, at half-past six precisely, and charging her par 1 -, ticularly there was 10l be no disappointment and not to deliver sooner or later than half past sir. - But Mr. B- , expostulated thorns man, ydumehn three shirts, don’t you, out Of nine yards! Do 1 ns 1 tell you, Madam. Don’t you Sup. pose 1 know what sized shirt is required by ray friend ? Early next morning the cloth was procured and the making of the shirt entered upon— About six o’clock in the evening, C , all altired-and ready for the party called on the Judge, when he was saluted on his en trance with— See here, that shirt has not been sent yet! ;*• ■Oh 1 says C., pulling out hil-’watch,- it is not time yet, it lacks a quarter to the time for I told her to hare it here by half-past six. The couple chatted away a while when prbsently a timid knock at the door was heard. Judge A. jumped to open it, when a little girl asked if thatu-aa imw.tv i U |»i ’a room L make for you. Itlv ‘norharf" All right, my nice little Miss and straight' way began to prepare for donning the much coveted garment, remarking, it is well made' and handsomely done up, too, Smart wo man that, Mr. C. f Oh! yes; I knmv she would not disap point you in any respect. By ibis time ihe Judge had commenced pulling it over him. Ho pulled, aad pulled, as yard alter yard passed, and still bis,(mad was enveloped in the shirt. Ha complained of its size, but his friend told him be bad got Sj twisted, but to hurry ou as 'twas lime they were at the party. Again he set himself to tho task,' and by hard struggling got through, binding himself enshrouded in a shirt hvo yards long and four yards broad,covering over all the floor with its ample drapery t In God's name, said the Judge in astonish ment What is it this Ibe woman bos sent mel looking with consternation upon the mon strous shirt around and beneath him. What is it 1 say 1 It was with much difficulty that C, could restrain his laughter, but approaching his enshirted friend and pulling the huge collar ! down so that he could see his face, be gazed with apparent wonder, and observed. What ft silly, stupid woman! 1 told her to gel Just enough to make three shirts; instead of making three she htis put the whole nine yards-into one shir! !* But we must hurry up and make the best of a bargain,* for it is high time we were at the party this minute. You can push it down into your trowsers and! no -1 body will be Ihe wiser. So at it the Judge 1 went, his friend assisting him, as yard after 1 yard was piled away in his unmentionables,' (they didn’t wear tights in those days) and 1 thus ho went to Judge B.'s party,yf not (he 1 finest dressed, at least the largest shifted getf* ■ tioman in the crowd. * C. promised never (o’Wow on his Judicial, friend, and kept his word, until he learned that thd Judge was compelled to toll it on himself, for unfortunately be carried the big' shirt home, ajid Mrs. Judge wanted to' know what'tremendous big woman’s s—ft (hat Wati in his trank T He had to om with iVi >nd it being told by the Judge himself, Mr.’C •'- fell at liberl toll it also; which hedotosf sometimes id this infinite merriment qf all who beor him. : - “Mr loye," says Mrs. Foozle to her hus. Wind,.“oblige me with a five pound note'tow day, topurchasea new dross.’’ ■ > ■ ‘‘Shan’t do any such things Agnes >;• yen hailed mjj «• bear yesterday." m --“Lor; love, that wasnothlnjp; f thoanVby it (bat you were fond of hugging/’ 'i “You little—,i have.no five, but here’* a ten.” • r:'- ■ ' ■■ l > ’ FtATTiiSY.—“You ftatter ,mp, rnsdam.’’, taid a ,iop, upoq,being told by .a ladylhqtdiia bal waa.a vpry fine 0ne..,., , . f c i"j. ; “Nqt at all, sir,” replied she, ‘‘l.only-pnaisa the hatter. Had. the head pcTape worth notice, I should not have thought of (hehau” A KwrW Poist iii’ our vicinity, the otter ijiy.raya Courier, tr|e ( d to put down his iW* qnestion j “If did dove ihat peyet' feitehw.'wWedla Itgotir? "Why,” retorted MtfUayjelih'Dg “I mppcfeci toaubady ibot «< /” % gees
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