A MOMENT WITH THE DEAD, nn«:mtthMiteßt, ittent if*A ■ ■ ;- : - ; wAlto^w ■'> ’■■ ■•• '■'T • - ,;■) ■ :l on.Jii* w*y r * ''' Hero brotiww, to dust.i 'O, riledt *le«p«rtl ; rart,‘r«9i on, ?gr thee no moreTUfIWPT >• Yor wheq a few itort yenre heTfigono , I iJ{ tab, mmet with yon*teop.‘ ; - Octavio, r - ■■ ’ Firitn tii OMa-'Purmen INSIDE OUTWAOD. !’ OR .THE ; ■ DffMBSNOB .BETWEEN OABHMBHB .AND CAUCO. ST ; H*LtfM L BOSTWIOK. ‘‘Did I lelV yoif pbgut it, Eunice?” "About,what?” •‘My going totlje, city, wrong aitjq outward,” “What tfo you mean ? ,} said Eunice. "Oh, I.see you never hpard the, story, so I. wilj, tell .you.. Two years ago I spent a few weeks with my friends the Wilmots, near the city of A .In the family were two young'ladies who /bund it necessary to.do a great deal of shopping, and not a little visiting lathe city, and of course patronized the rail road connecting their little village with the Green street Depot, to no trifling extent. “Now you. shall see what a handsome and gentlejnaqly conductor we have on ibis route,” said. Bell Wilmot to me, as 1 took a luxurious cushion do a crowded car lor a first ■miscellaneous trip to A< , “He is my. beau ideal of a conductor/ added Kate.; “let. the car be ever so crowded he is sure to And. a place for ladies, and never objects to our band boxes and qarpel bags, as many ill-natured fellows, drest in a little brief authority, are apt to do, and if our purses are short after a shopping excursion, he often — liiiteVrbapsody was interrupted by the slart ipg of the train. "We were whirled into A in about twenty minutes, yet 1 had an opportunity to notice that the labeled official was indisputa bly very considerate to our party. He opened the window'.which was swollen, by damp wealhor at a look from Kale, and ordered a Dutchman, smoking meekly upon the plat form into the baggage car, at a symptom of fainmess from Beil. - I could but acknowledge that Fanny Fern should odd to her-list of models a ‘model conductor,” taking this one for her original. Arrived at our destination, I was again en tertained with my friends' praises of the va rious merchants and milliners they were ac customed to patronize. “I always purchase silks at Weaver’s ; tbev are so conscientious, and never try to naim o(T an inferior article upon a customer. At Mrs. Lasalle’s you will find a superb as sortment of gloves and embroideries. The proprietress is a reduced French Countess, slid one of the most lady like persons you ever saw rattled Bell Wilmot. “And if yotf wish to buy shoes,'be sure and call at Marvin’s; they are so accommodating; Kiev never make wry faces, if you happen to break a string, or loosen a clasp, or any older such trifling accident,” added Kale. "This was enough, yet if I needed more to convince me of the superior excellence of these aristocratic shopkeepers, that afternoon’s observation would have furnished it. No sooner did the rich brocades, and crapes and ribbons of the fair Misses Wilmot flutter in side a shop door, than every attendant, from proprietor to errand boy, proceeded to don their most obsequious smiles and agreeable deportment. It was not strange, Eunice. 'The young ladies carried heavy purses, and weTe-tasily persuaded to lighten them. The afternoon passed pleasantly and fa iigumgly enough, to dialling and shopping, in shaking hands with old acquamiances, and trying to bow gracefully to new introductions, and on our return, amid many expressions of satisfaction as our purchases were enrolled and exhibited before Mrs. Wilmot and Aunt Lucy, the'girls forced me to confess-lhat the A merchants and the A and 0 conductor far surpassed any others io the known world. And so it wqs, almost daily, for the first iorimghi of my stay. At one time we called on a celebrated dentist for some trifling tooth operation He was an acquaintance of Bell’s ana sue presented him-to mens her-friend, ue was very handsome and his voice and smile captivating to one who'Couid appreciate music and sunshine, Eunice, I was amazing ly pleased with (hat man. I who am so fus tidinus, I fancied him the impersonation of skill and benevolence—the head nnd the Pearl the means and the end—glorious com binations for those who set themselves up as ihe world’s healers and teachers. He im pressed me as one of the few to whom science may safely commit her priceless treasures, sure that they would be used only for the blessing of humanily. Ah, Eunice! 1 had only seen the silken side I “Pray go on,” said Eunicq. One rainy morning I received a letter from Home, giving notice that my young sister was about to take a Western tour with a friend. “New dresses of course, are requisite,”.wrote my mother, “and I wish you to procure and send them immediately. Then followed a hat of the articles needed. This letler had been longer than usual on liie route ; that moment, I knew sister Lib, smid a sympathizing conclave of wailing milliners, marveled my long delay. The articles must be.purchased that very, day, raining as it was* and moreover I must go alone; Bell and Kate had'•gone to bed with hair In curl-papers, and hovels under their pillows.. Toward noon the rain-abated,; and I notified'my friends of my- determinA tibn... to go to A—; —, The young ladies' started with astonishment. “To morrow, I’ll be at your service,” said. Bell, but nqt.to day.' VVhy you’re crazy look'av.the.clojtds—you’ll take a dreadful cold—don’t get .salimstriped tissue; it frays shockingly,” . . I dressed, walkedto.iheislation, Bata few mds distant,' arid found .myself half an hour too. early, .Very, soon tho iclouda and raip fall in ; cataracts; ' Nevertheless, 1 •mbbornly adhered to my determination, the more stubbornly, that I knew the girls would Jbr thi Agitator* .d '**’ 1 v' 1 * 1 -" 1 -' 'V' '‘-c ' ’y - ■^itf.iuwreaTflv, 1 .- ■- 'iGOBBi STUEtROCE & GO.', - iJWSLit- ridicule me without mercy if I returned,. But 1 looked at my dress, and thought of mybon net, and was thankful that the old brown .veil f found crumpled in my, pocket would protect! the latter.' My mantilla was'of watered stilt,' handsomely lrimmed, apd f femembeped p, lady told me that water would spot it. How.! foolish I had been to Wear it, “Well Eunice, wW do you suppo.se I did ? I turned it wrongaide outward 1 It was lined' with the usual black muslin, from which (he gloss had disappeared in spots., I was (he. only occupant, of the Ladies’ saloon .and en-. joyedihefull .benefit of an eight by ten look-,, dog 8 Ia " a -( 1 in it ind ipwing.wjial.a! ludicrous figure my old veil and rusty gar ment made, in contrast with my hoe cash! mere traveling dress, with its richly trimmed basque, the idea of going to thecily thoroughly disguised, at once presented itself. The skirl of my dress was separate from th? body, apd I had lined it for comfort in. the winter, with’ an old gingham dress clean and whole, but I must confess, sadly faded. Well, I turned this wrong side outwards, also,”' “You don’t mean to say that you went to' the city in that style,” said Eunice. . “1 did, and enjoyed it too, convinced that [ was doing a sensible thing. But you shall 'hear. Scarcely was my toilet completed, when the whistle sounded and drawing the thick veil over my face, 1 made my way to the nearest car. And now commcuced the development. The handsome and gentleman ly conductor nearly knocked me over in the doorway, in his willingness lo pioneer a lady in blue silk and four flounces, a satchel, a bat box, a parasol, and a lap-dog safely out upon a platform. Returning, while t stood gazing vacantly at the rows of hats and bools before me, none of which moved to relin quish a seat in my behalf the model conductor pointed to an uncomfortable corner seat, be tween a black woman with a baby, and a white woman with two babies. Of course I expected it, and the cunning pranks of the little African made my hard seat endurable. “Well, 1 reached the city, and made my way lo Weaver’s fashionable store. The skies were weeping briskly, and I, carrying a blue cotton unbrella, probably did not call up golden visions to the eyes of the young gentlemen clerks who lounged upon the coun ters, nr sat with feet elevated at alarmingly acute angles, as I entered. When I enquired for silk, tissues, gernadines, and fine summer dress goods, there was one undivided stare. “It would take too much lime to tell how some stained silks,, and half cotton beragqs were first produced','and now I eventually convinced them ihat i understood their proper quality. Suffice it to say 1 purchased noth ing there, though templing articles were fin ally displayed before me, but suited myself at less pretentious establishments. “Next to Mrs. Lasalle’s 1 went, whose anathemas upon me for detecting the cotton laces presented me for linen, ('till not repeat, but must say they were delivered in a very uncounless like rage, though in excellent French, “I did not try the shoe store that day, but in passing Dr. R’s office, something prompted me to enter. 1 had been amused and not the least disappointed by my afternoon’s experi ences, but now a little anxiety mingled with much curiosity. I bethought me of a ner vous loolh-ache that had robbed me of sleep for a portion of several nights, and which 1 had sedulously concealed from the family, chiefly because Aunt Lucy’s infallible remedy in such cases was whisky and ginger, boil ing hot, a remedy to me, infinitely worse than the disease. Perhaps Dr. H. could noma something less objectionable. “1 rang gently, and was admitted. The Doctor, who was talking and smoking with a dashing young man, glanced at my dress as I entered, and without further notice, went on with the conversation. Finally 1 institu ted a slight cough, and he turned toward me with— “Well, old lady, what’s (he nuttier with you 7" “1 enquired in .a suffering voice, the cure for an aching tooth.” ‘“Crooked iron, inarm, applied cold, is the best thing, and animal magnetism is next best. Ever try it, hey 7” And the moo of science winked and grinned at his compan ion, who ejected a quid of tobacco from his mouth, quite near my poor gingham skirt, and laughed immoderately. In two seconds 1 was in the street, and on my way to the Depot, queslioning myself, whether there are such qualities yet remaining in our world,' ks uhbopght honesty ind kindness. My doubts were to be removed. The train stood at the Depot as I came in sight ‘and I hurried my steps lest it should depart without roe. “I managed to gain a seal, but had no limd to purchase n ticket and when the con ductor came, I fell for my port monnaie to* to pay the necessary fare; It was gone.— An exploration of my pocket to its lowest depls availed .nothing; and I was in a difem* raa. I explained the matter'to him, assuring him' I should leave the train at the next sta tfen, and would there bdrrdw ih’e amount;— He left me, muttering hik suspicions' that thb story' waa a iiej apd went his rounds. "Soon after, some one touched my elbow and on looking around, 1 1 was greeted "by a lank, ragged, uncombed Irishman, : who' smiled bnd' held something toward me.'' It was my pbrt monnaie. ' , r Faith andhav’tit I been sarchin, the, cars; for ye this ’ bltSs'ed while,’ saldho j ’twas meaeir.that sdw ye'iake yes- handker chief anfl send thisbre filing a apiqhing on tne paving jSlbheg. And ye did n’l seo Pat Cfugatl aftCf if T had’r been comln tho satfie 1 rpud> jt precioas' hurtt ye might have had for it.’BleSs the until idred. uncorrupted Irish heart! J “And now I was at 0. Station, 1 nnd 1 the A 'l* Vv ‘>vJ WEU.SBOKOUGH, TtOGA CpI'KTY, PA., TlllifiSOAY MORSIKG, KOVBIHER 15, 1835: .nv.. ■.? u.C/ilaiJ;: I’Ajfyrb-,/ vt-.v 4<4nq,/\ --& :ltil Or j !;?!: j L.> ' ,r 'rHK‘ ACrfATiiif 'op 1 imbvGßT ia tbb BBthHnita of 1 1 J'_'l >l..' ; - 1 ' . „ - , ~ , " v! ‘ - [ *1 ,t| * H ,« . ' " * S'* 1 ' .. •• .i, 7 I ' ! T*~ sun, though, it was 16,w weat, was shi ning., brightjiy*. .I to the La, dies’ soom, anii.aoon. emerged therefrom a well dressed lady,,with p. uncovered bpnqel of.thelatest importation.’ ,As^he-conductor crpssedihapjatform t? give orders ! stepped , upend/tendered ray.fare,“saying my purse; hadbpen found and.rtetornedlo me. • You . have a vivid imagination, Eunice picture, the Countenance of that gentleman: “ Did you relate' your ■ adventure to the young ladles ?” said Eunice. j “No, indeed ! When the goods-cable, they' word’ delighted witlf them, nffirmiqg thal ;• tfiiS i sillc come from Weaver’s no J othet mer chant had nnythlng like It, and this from Mrs. LaSalle’s, they remembered seeing it thei-e !” I kept ray own counsel; and o6W Eunice what do you think of it all 7” ' ' " “I think the wisdom you purchased was cheep enough at all'events, Yet there is one other place to which I wish you had gone.” “And where is that 7” “To church,” said Eunice I!!!!!! M !! JtfiuTAßY Literature.— American pa pers are remarking on the absence of all lite rary efforts in the Crimea, and are therein nothing-very much to their own glory—a charanterislicdifference between the surround ings.of an English army. The contrast is fair—the self laudation ia not unjust. Our readers know that when the Yankees marched into Mexico, they carried with them la print ing press, and published a newspaper along the line of invasion.—Across praries, through dangerous passes, over mountain ranges, sometimes on mules, oftener on men’s shoul ders, occasionally in wagons, traveled!press, paper, type, and ink,, editors, contributors, and pressmen, fighting, foraging, writing,: working onward. Infinite were the uses of the press. It carried orders through',the’ camp. Every morning the soldier read in it the story of the previous day. It anticipa ted the gazettes. It desseminaled orders of the day. It perpetuated the gossip of the camp; reflected public opinion in the army ; made known every wantj supplied every in formation ; exercised, inspired, and animated every heart. Had the Americans been in the Crimea, they would have had daily papers at Balnklava, Eupaloria, Yenikale and Constan tinople ; and these papers reflecting the hu mors, incidents, and life of the camp—would have ranked among the best historical docu ments of the war. As it is, our soldiers in the Crimea are indebted to the Lopdoo Jour nals for authentic information of what occurs, In me camp Usclf, a„J a mne ur iWu or their own tents. Jonathan is far ahead of us in some respects.— kthenenm. An Injured Man. — A merchant in a town near Boston, had a customer more dreaded who was always ready lo taste early fruit without buying any, eat raisins by the hand full dip into (he sugar-barrel (or big lumps and fill his snuff box from the jar on the counter, under pretence of taking a pinch. This game got lo be insufferable. He had a barrel of choice apple sauce in (he store, a fact which our sponge discovered, Who seal ed himself beside it, and when theslorekecp er’s eyes ware turned he would dip into the barrel and scoop out a handful! at a lime and take it down at a gulp. The dealer had seen lhe whole by means of a looking glass which reflected the store, and he resolved upon a plan to fix him. “John,’’ said be to a young man, giving him a wink,” why did you not throw that ap ple sauce away ?” Without wailing Tor John’s answer, the sponge broke in with— “ Why” what’s the matter with ill It’s first rate, I think.’’ “Yes,” said the storekeeper," it was, but a cat and four kittens were drowned in it last night I” The victim turned pale and moved towards the door. He felt as if he was an injured man, and silently vowed not lo patronize that store any more How to Spoil a Boy —To spoil a boy, give him a rich father, this will give him a taste for idleness, while idleness will give him a taste- for billiards, ballet dances, fast' horses, and brawling. This in time, will lead to br.oken shins and broken heads. The for mer will belong to (he young man himself, the latter lo his parents. To do a-person good,- money should bo earned. Dash inher ited half a million, but as he did not inherit the frugality which acquired ft, Dash lost by tho operation. Dash" goes it stogt” on cham pagne suppers, pash is now training'(or the delirum tremens; the effects of which' will be, that in a year Dash will go to the lunatic asylum,'because he mistook his house fora clipper shipend undertook to cast anchor by throwing his man-servant out of the fifth' story, into the cistern. A gentleman, a few evenings since, while taking' a swim in the lake ; at Buffalo, N. Y.’, was‘horrified, on casting bis-eyes towards the beach, to behold h rag-jtieking female de liberately pin his shirt, white pantaloons,' stockings, eic./irtlo hor baaket/'aDd vamose. Pursuit was in vain, and the‘“denuded-one” was compelled to make upthedeficienoiesof his wardrobe with blasphemy. In fact, 1 in the language of scripture, “He clothed himself tfith turses, ns with a garment.” i >< ' | 1 “Hill6o, steward 1" exclaifrfed a Tellow itj cmeoftha'steamboatsf nfler haring yetired to beiji ' ;•»,>■. .'»-® W»i ■- V- .#■--'! ; s • r.\ ! ■ A great error prevadeSithe. community in 'reference to. the kind of..an. education .the.; lyou.ng should receive. Too much, attention, fa bestowed upon showy accomplishments,- 'Education is valuable just- in-proportion l to its■ usefulness. Theprinciplesof truth' and vir- ■ jtue impressed, with an ahiding-seuse of Chris tian'duly, upon the youthful: mind, will nefe essarily produce uprightness of\:onduct and correct principles of action.' Nothing is re ally ttoblei in the cenduct of'men, thslisnol the result of choice, produced by a iCOrrect' system of entightehrhetS The plodding outontatoir may, 6‘y a force of circumstances and fixed habit, move in the path of recti tude ;i,but this'is the result of accident, not of choice. 1 The divine spark that should animate the breast is wanting. There is none of that soulclevaling sentiment which prevadps the heart of every freeman, caus ing him lo perceive the truth and to adhere with unwavering firmness lo its dictates. An educated man feels a slinging .remorse when cver his actions do not'correspond.to the dic tates of. conscience. The prison statistics of the United States show that about three fourths of the convicts cannot read or write. Observation everywhere proves that it is the uneducated that idle away their lime and plunge into ell manner of' excesses and bru tal habits. Money and time expended in ac quiring an education is so much capital in vested towards the future and enduring glory of our couhtiy. Every minute spent in cul tivating the mind adds to the pecuniary re sources of the individual. The following el oquent remarks frum an eminent scholar (Ur. Channing,) will meet with a hearty re sponse from every friend of popular educa tion "I am not discouraged by (he objection, that the laborer, if encouraged to give Ifme and strength to the elevation of bis mind, will starve himself and impoverish the coun try, when I consider the energy and efficiency of the mind. The highest force in the uni verse is mind. This has changed the wilder ness into fruitfulness, and linked distant coun tries in a benificent ministry to one another’s wants. It is not to brute force, to physical strength, so much as to art, to skill, to Intel ectual and moral energy, that men owe their mastery over the world. It is mind which baa-conquered matter. To fear then that, by./calling- forth.a people’s mind, we shall impoverish and starve them,: is to be fright-• eoed.al a aljndow, I believe, that with the> growth of intellectual ann moral power ro the community, its productive power will in crease, that industry* will become more effi cient, that a wiser economy will accumulate wealth, that unimagined resources of art and nature will be discovered. I believe, that the means of living will'grow easier, in propor tion ns a people shall become.enlightened;' self-respecting, resolute and just. Bodily or material forces can be measured, but not the Torres of the soul, nor can tho results of in creased mental energy be foretold. Such a community wiM tread down obstacles, now deemed invincible, and turn them into helps. The inward moulds the outward. . The power of a people lies in its mind; and its mind, if fortified and enlarged, will bring external things into harmony with itself, if, howev. er, 1 err in this belief, if, by securing lime nnd means for improvement of the multitude, industry and capital should become less pro ductive, I will say, .sacrifice the wealth, and not the' mihd of a people, “Nor do I believe that’ the physical good of a community would in this way be im paired. The diminution of a country’s wealth, occasioned by general attention lo intellectUal'and moral culture, would be fol lowed by very many different efforts from those which would attend ah equal diminu tion brought about by sloth, intemperance and ignorance. There would, indeed, be less production in such a country, but (he character and spirit of the people would ef fect a much more equal distribution of what would be produced; and the happiness of a community depends vastly more on the- dis tribution than on (he amount of its wealth. In thus speaking of the future, I do not claim any special prophetical gift. As a.general rule, no man is able to foretell) distinctly, the ultimate permanent result of any great change. But as to the case before us we ought not lo doubt. Ills a part of our duty to believe, that by nothing-can a country so effectually gain happiness and lasting prosperity, as by the elevation of all classes of its citizens.— To qne'stion : this seems’ an approach to the’ end of lime. “lf this fall, The pillared firmament is rottenness, And earth’s base built on stubble,” Let do one bring forward the plea, that poverty prevents him frOm storing his mind with useful knowledge* He might just with as-much propriety:-say that, he was 100 poor to follow his; .daily, vocation.-. An educated laborer becomes.Simore -successful producer.; A. farmer that adapts his grain to ils proper soil, andi applies the, rights kindiof nourishing; stimulantslo; lliaUsoit,.will; earn far, more,' lhan he who > prepares- and;-sows his- fields without'intelligepce;—Efercior. A'vrorrihn iri Bdatdn I has‘ Commenced'suit of divorce agSinslher'husbandi 1 because he' wolifd : no^allbw-h : ef i to ;j hpply hhr the stopper of the molasses jug every lime shV^sfedlt—a’ pfivlllßgOtVhidh* Wiry; Yan kee Jfpman considers, sacred.; r :: , ’ A’persdfr out fn’fdwli grpss-seed gQtherdd'frbm ijid itj* refctV ! lude.’* l;as it is m iTlfle traveled 1 " tilli}'-*'-' if-v ijancatloii of tbeioutb. |[u* ! #V-» ;b: . ;5. y-r Proprietors. It hM been said, (and I for one think, trnlj,) That K e’on a cat may glower upon a king I” And so, perchance, who chooses to, Is duly . lifceosbd, of hackneyed themofl td rhyme or sing; And so I slog of that which out of view lay, Bat just before the fatl'Wltid cum? to fling | Tho crisp, dead leaves about—a welcome comer, June's lato-born peer and slater— ljojiak Sumuca. *T Is bat a narrow rift in Autumn's clouds, . Through which thy softer skies Just now appear; A bunt of sunlight through the gloom that shrouds Thy charms, 0, Second ChiJUbood of (he Tear! Tor thou ddst type that second bhjth which crowds The young child's cradle on the old man's bier; Yet there is healing In thy balmy breath, That robs tho garner of tho Heupec— Djuthl Westemlmgentle dalll&noo with June — . - Wtti ffuira.ttre With thy blue skies o’ercanopyiug, at noon. noth’ field add To refit In their Autumn an^cn; ' And }hodgh the birds cume not as then, to tune ; Nature’s groat harp, and sanctify the scene— Wo lore tlieo not the loss,—ooch has Its time, June with its birds and Autumn with its rime. Tho latest Joy, we mortals love tho best; Sommer’s last hoar is lovelier than ju first*— Tho moUier clasps her last bom to her breast, i The sweetest heart-floWer that whoever nurst ; | The miser drops UU lost gain In-tho chest i As best of all—and yet *t U most accursed' So In thy arms wo seo the year decay, ; Lfjviog thee hotter as thou fad’st away. November P, 1855. t M. TI. Copa. I Letter from the West J~ Fhiend Cobb; —The “West 11 is a drejary country to some,'and I will tell you why. They start with buoyant spirits, bright an ici pationa and a glowing future before them, but become weary, sick at heart, and lose I teir courage long before they reach their place of destination. Many, perhaps, have never been a hundred miles from their homes before— always surrounded by friends, whose hearts were overflowing with sympathy, yet they take their, families and start for some point, perhaps unknown to them, in in the far off west. But who, that has ever traveled upon crook ed railways nnd lake steamers, docs not an ticipate the many knocks and thumps that (bey-will receive long before (hey finish their journey. But they are going west—they Teel .the weighty responsibility—many hours of waking dreams have been spent in consider ing the subject, and many nights of drowsy, feverish sleep, while their minds were ram bling away out on some *asi prarie, and there dreaming of beautiful farms, fields of waving grain and comfortable homes already occu pied by their joyous families. They wake from their dreams only lo run these tilings through their minds again. Truly it. is a great undertaking. There is a vast respon- sibility attached to it; Their success in the happiness of their families and the ftture prospect of ciTcit ohiMron nil depend upon that journey west. With these feelings they pack their goods, bid adieu to their friends and start-olfVwhile their tears fall pnd wot the path in which they are traveling. One would naturally suppose that so great an undertak ing should engage the attention and enlist the sympathy of those whom they meet, but they soon learn by experience that and baggage-masters, ticket agents and hotel keepers, hack-drivers and little, (easing, fruit and novel pedlars, care little about any one except lo gel his money. They, perhaps, ex change a few words of sympathy wi'h a fel low traveler if they moke his acquaintance, but he : stops at the next station or takes a dif ferent route, and they are left alone again. Nature begins to present a different face — they see no friends with whom they may converse, and they begin to look back with sorrow to the unhappy day when they resol ved to leave their friends.’ But their story is not half told yet, for their journey is but just commenced. It is evening and~they are of Dunkirk, Buffalo or perhaps Detroit—we will say Detroit to make the story short, and |i hey step aboard the cars for Chicago, two hun dred and eighty two miles distant. Perhaps they never rode all night in the cars before, and may think they are going to have a pleasant lime, but they will gel mistnken. it is nine o’clock and dqrk as pitch, and nothing can be seen from the windows now to excite their curiosity. Conversation has ebbed except with here and therein individ ual, who is still trying lo press upon the per son who sits beside him, the wonderful trans actions (hat he performed while young, i But fie fails to'interest him and nothing now greets ' my ear except ihepuff of the engine and the continued rumbling and rattling of the pars, together with the pestering babble of apself conceiled fop silting right before me. AH’ are growing sleepy and they begin lo nod on the right and the left. They are weary and would -be glad to Ije down upon their'seats' and take a nap, but 'every car is crowded 'to suffocation and there are four or five of them. Some are so tired (Hot they occasionally get into a drowse, bur ore soon roused up by a voice crying out Battle Creek, Paw. Paw, TerreCdupee, or some other name ihjw have not been accustomed to hear. And tho tthey’ edntinue the whdle night, and it is a lorg one as every one will testify who has experienced a similar ride. It is day .-light novi and all are er lookmg put of the windows upon Lake 1 gun, extending ; as it does hundreds of 1 beyond, the .reach of, their feeble vision ,it a beautiful, scene—new indeed to mi Tiogian, and, yvhoi ,makes it m? re bej and. mpre novel, there ,is a terrible gal now-dashing ..waves' and spray all.ov docks,.-Neptune.must be very angry morning.v'A, few vessels, are lying pi 'beach ; and seamen are busy going u|> downithsir rope-iadders-r-poor honest It Iheyifeel as if ihey-jrare laboring for.hu ilyij, Butrhere- wolgo whir;inlo : ChicB hundred- tracks apparently -on ■.cither All rush from the cars, while porters, a of them, themsfelyea to t | in order, to let.tfhPeleifo'KnoVhoWttUcb tHo K'(iiiMWh6f''hhvd , fltß hbnbfdf repri mg dtfeiPi''i'sfiuvild’ ; say , dofei Hwt -pb A‘ .:*l: 1 NO. 17. For Oie Agitator. INDIAN i SUMMER, (The hack is crowded as full as il can be,and another gping to the same place. The bar roornisTnll! of traveler*; and mattyof' thVm hnya xpaahed tbeqnelve* and are trying to look,briBkjsbui- ibe poor hungry fellowscan nptafieciJt.' TwoibirdsMaf them; are sick, absolutely sicKrryou iato read theword home (ft ,gJraots ; every face:; It 'rains/.the wind Wave, everything's wetland dirty, thoyara hungry, have had no and everybody is (easing them for their money, and why should they not be sick 7 To be 'sure that' I am not mistaken in this estimate of human nature, I will, get in conversation - with some of thenrn Sir, you are traveling; allow me to ask what part, of tho- country you are from. “In-di-a-na, took the cars last night—l’m going to Mm-e-ao-ia.” Ab ! do you expect, sir, to. belter your condition by going away out in Minnesota? “Don't know; but if 1 had my money back, and was a ihome again, 1 reckon ibis ohlff would stay there.” He gave this- last a, sort of Hoosier kink, as much as to say that he had a little indepen> deuce led after all. But the truth is, the poor fallow has lost his courage. He rode last night on the cars—is now in -‘Chicago, surrounded by stores, groceries, .dockyards and depots—unable 'to get even a glance at the country and yet he is sick of it. He is a stout looking fellow and you would think 'CSpal)lß”Of'latringTf3e»«au,polj4n "a day, yet the poor boy is absent from nis mother and his heart is broken. What do you suppose he will do, if he should go to Minesota? Well, a good share of those who go west are as chicken hearted as he is.. ’*-r Perhaps it may bo interesting to some of your Tioga- readers to stale a few things which 1 haye seen in the west. I will do it: la a word I have seen (he most beautiful country, the most extensive farms and by far the wealthiest farmers I ever saw in my life. Some of these farmers, who are now worth from eighty to a hundred thousand dollars, came here a few years ago with from two to three hundred only. They have obtained their wealth by the growth of the country. Everything is progressing in this region. New town's are springing up all along the railroads. There is about twenty five hun dred miles of railroad in ibis state—lllinois. Churbhes, school-houses, academies, stores and dwelling houses are constantly being .erected—farms are being purchased, fenced and cultivated—men are going into business on every side, and a person traveling through this country soon loses himself in the gene ral bustle, and for the lime being forgets that there is an east. Most of those living along the lines of railrords are sharpers, and are bound to get rich out of the traveling public. Prices.—Pine lumber along tho railroads, ‘from 17 to 825 per thousand feet. Cultiva ted farms, wiih buildings, shade trees &c., from 25 to 840 per acre. Uncultivated land from 5 to 815. . Praries are not swamps by any means, but rolling meadows ready for the plow. This is the character of those lying between Chicago and Rock River—south of that they are level. Let a man look out upon these prairies for twenty minutes, and if he does not conclude that the farmer, who tries to plow the hard, stony hills of Tioga, is de basing manhood, then I am no judge. Friends, who have requested me to write to them concerning the West, will please con sider the engagement fulfilled by this letter. Respectfully Yours, . J. B. CASSODAY. Jbhcl, Illinois, Sept. 25, 1855. Curious Love Letters. Madame: —Most worthy of my admira tion, after long consideraiion, and much med itation, of the great reputation, you possess in the nation, I have strong inclination, toi become your relation. On your approbation, of the declaration, I shall make preparation, to move my situation, to profess my admira-' lion, and if such obligation, is worthy of ob servation, and can obtain commisseration, it will be an aggrandization, beyond all calcula tion, of the joy and exultation of, Yours, Saks Desidehation. The following in the reply : Sir—l perused your oration, with much deliberation, and a little consternation, of the great infatuation, of your weak imagination, to show such veneration, on so slight a foun dation. I suppose your animation, was (he fruit of recreation, or had sprung from osten tation, to display your education, by an odd enumeration, or rather multiplication, of words of the same termination, though of great variaiion, in each- respective significa tion. Now, without disputation, your labori ous application, to so tedious an occupation, deserves commendation, and thinking limita tion, sufficient gratification, 1 am, without hesitation, Yours, Sally Moderation. i Voltdres. — A letter from the Crimea tells the following tale: “Vultures are vdry numerous in the Crimea. They smell the powder and await the coming of the throw themselves on their victims. After one of the recent combats, an English officer was found on the battle iield, who had .just expired, pressing in both his arms onp, of those birds of prey, dead, like himself, and which he bad crushed in a last effort of agony 1” t ' As women are more affected by theprevo lence of Immorality, than men, it is really strange that they do* not frown down thoso vices of men, which are so frequent. Many a female who would nbl refuse to dine 'with a profligate, would think herself foully in suited were she Invited to lake tea with a courtezan; but the only difference bet Ween the two is, one wears pantaloons 'and the other pddialeltes—the' moral is the same. The WorlO’s Shippiko.—The shipping of the world iS estimate*] at 145,500 vessels, and the 'nggVeghte Tonnage at 19,500,000. — Hunt's Magazine estimates that' at 850 a ton the'shipping’of the worfd is worth the enor mous amount'of Of this filteen a'ird'a hairTHillior.s bf tonnage, mote thrift'ttri' and ; a hair miflions beldng to the Aagto Saxon race. United States’' 40,500 vfessela.an'd 5,661 , r 416 fonriaigej Grftat Brit ain', 35,960 vessels, and 5,043,270 •’ toadage. Concentratiort of thought will always en sure success upon every subjocti'whetherin Writing or • speaking. l A randomf ftnd scat l tcred shot will seldom hiMhe mark. l 1 ■■