AN ENCHANTED ISLAND. A wonderful stream is the Direr Timo, As It runs through the realms of Tears, With a feultleu rhythm and a musical rhyme, And a broader svWpand ft-snrge sublime, r And blends with the Ocean of Years. \ There is ft musical Isle np the river Time, 1 Where the softest U airs are playing; ' There's & cloudless shy and a tropical clime,' And a song as sweet m ft vesper chime, And the tones with the rosea are straying^ And the name of this Isle is the “Long Ago,* And we bury oar treasures there; There are brows of boanty, and bosoms of snow, There ore heaps of dust, bat w loved them Bo; Thoro aro trinkets and tresses of hair. There aro fragments of eengs that nobody sings, And n part of an infant's prayer; There’s a lute nnswopt and a harp without strings, There are broken vows and nieces of rings, And the garment ah© used to wear. There ore hands that are wared, when tho fairy shore By the mirage is lifted in air; And wo sometimes hear, through the tnrbnlent roar, Sweet voices wo beard in tho days gunc Iwforo; When the wind down tho river is fair. 0, remembered for aye be the blessed Tale. Ail the day of life HU night: When the evening comes with its beautiful smile, And our eyes ore closing to slumber awhile— May that “Greenwood” of Bools bo in sight. N. Y. Mirror. & 3CbU Of tt)t Sea. Front Ballou 9 t Dollar Magazine, THE RUNAWAY SHIP. BY CHARLES CASTLETOX. I had command of ihe old ship “Ever shot, ’’ a good ship, and one which had pm much money into ihe hands of her owners. She was built for (he India trade, and with the exception of one voyage lo Smyrna, site had sfucK (o the purpose for which she was put logeiher. On the present occasion, I was bound for India, and my cargo was made up of a curious variety, I had for passengers, an old gentleman, whose head was white, and his form bent with years, and his three sons, the youngest of whom was about five and thirty, and the oldest not far from fifty. Then there were several women and some half dozen children. We had doubled the southern copes of Africa, and were just poking our nose into the Indian Ocean, when a circumstance trans pired which was destined to try our nerves somewhat. One afternoon, one of the men in the foretop reported a sail very near ahead in the line of our course “Some homeward bound Indiaman, prob ably,” remarked Mr. Lee, my matt 1 nodded assent, and men went tn the cabin and told my passengers that if they had any letters to send home, they had bet ter have them ready, for perhaps we were about to meet a ship bound to Old England ! 1 hev went to worn upon my suggestion ai once, and in me course of ball an hour we had a letter.pig neatly sewed up and direc ts The wind was now a little south of east, so that we stood upon tour course northeast with freedom, and me homing snip was head ing very nearly upon us, though ns we came nearer she kept away a little furt tier to west wort “is n an English shin?” asked my while haired old passenac: “1 think it is,” was my reply: and just as i spone, mv second male came down from me mreinp, where he tind been wilh a glass, l nouced mat his face Inoked troubled, and aiso mni ne kepi back some remark which be was upon the point nf dropping, at the same time regarding the old passenger with n loot, which seemed to indicate I hat he was in me w»\ 1 took the him, nn.l careless it walked forward. Mr. Bucket, the mate in question, followed me. At me gangway 1 stopne.. “Wnal is it i askec, now turning and looking into his lac: ‘ Wtiv sir, lhai shin is the old Dorset.” “The Dorset 1 replieo “Jmpossi “Bui i nm sure ’ persisted Beckei.— "There's no! another ship in hnglanu wiih such a heure-hean Those two girls arn’l lo be mistaken “Bui are you sure that she has that figure' head “ “Certainly. You'll be able lo sec it from nere in a lew moments ’ “Bu;,” said 1, ‘The Dorset lias not yet had lime lo reach Sydney, let alone gelling back as far as this ’ "Of course not,” answered Becket, with a Keen "lance nboul him ; “bul don’t vou think o sum could run away without doing the er rand she had in hand "Eh ” That’s all 1 uttered a' the mo ment, lor a strange thought was beginning to worn ns way to my mina. "lou remember what sort of a cargo the Uor«e’ had, don’t you 1 ” mv mate remarked. 0- fours.- | remembered, for I met ihe cnnia,r o' the Dorset the dav before she sauce, ano had a quiet dinner wi'h him at Eon levs He was an old friend of mine, am, named Bumstead—Harrv Bumstesd— ano a« siood a sailor as ever trod a deck at se: Now ihe (acts, as they came crowding rn:ne: unpleasantly upon my mind, were mese Tne Dorse'sailed just two weeks bo lore i dm, and look oul Iweniv-Ihree con victs wnn had been sentenced in transpor tation. These, of course, he was to drop at Sydney, or Port Jackson, and as be hod pan oi a cargo for that place, he was to go there (irs: So [ knew that the Dorse! “had no Business running away from the Indian Ocean nov “What do vou think about it?” ashed llcckp;, who had been watching me. “Let me take the glass,” said I, without seeming to notice this question. lie b a nded me the glass, and I at once lenped upon the horsc-block and set the fo- CU:. Tiic coming slop was now so near itia. her hull was nearly all up, and my hrsi look was upon (he figure-head. There could be no mistake now. 1 could dislinct lv sec the two female forms clasping each oinet by the hands, which 1 knew to be the adorning feature of the Dorset’s cut-water. “Mr. Docket,” I said, nfler I hod satisfied myself upon this point, “that is tire Dorset, and no mistake.” “y® B—hut 8 —hut what do you make of it ?” “What do you make of h ” 1 asked ?” He pondered a few moments, and then said; “1 think the convicts have taken the ship ” “So do I,” was my rejoinder. As I thus spoke, I walked aft to where my first male stood by the wheel, and draw, mg him on one side, I told him my fears.— He leaped upon the rail, and gazed off upon ®ur neighbor, and when he reached the deck a gain, he was of my opinion. "It must be so,’’ ho said, “what shall we do !'> THE mmtev to rn:Sjmytok' of tfce area ot &vee*m‘i*& m COBB, STURROCK & CO., TOL. 2. That was the question. What should we do 7 The ship had now come to within half a. mile, and all doubts respecting her identity were at an end, I now knew that she was the Dorset, and of course felt confident .that the convicts must by some means have gained possession. “She didn’t have the best crew that ever was,” remarked Leo, nervously. “I knew some of her men, and they were as precious a set of scamps as ever breathed.” This made the matter worse still. Of my whole crew, I could muster but thirty men, counting the three able passengers, having set five men on shore at Si. Helena sick with fever, and being unable at the lime lo make their places good. On board ihe Dorset, of course, there would be ihe three-and-twenty convicts, and, in all probability, a good part of the crew —perhaps forty men in all.— What should we do? To let the ship pass on under such circumstances seemed hardly the thing for an Englishman, and to engage with such a renegade crew, seemed sheer madness. I asked my officers what they thought—and they thought just as I did. 1 explained the matter to my three passengers, and they said they would help it they could be assured there would be anv use. Bui during all this lime the ship in ques tion had been nearing us, we having steered so as to speak her, and now she was not more than two cables’ length distant upon our lee bow, “Ship ahoy !’’ I shouted through my trumpet. “Hallo !” came from the other ship “ VVhat ship is that ?” “The Ben Franklin answered the same voice, the owner -of which wore a Scotch can and red shirt. “Where are you bound 7" “To New York.” “Belong there?” “Yes.” Al this moment she had ranged ahead far enough so that I could see she had the Amer ican flag at her peak, which had been before hidden by her canvass. There were cer tainly forty men leaning over her rail, and I knew al once that we could not openly over come them. Allhu momem, had my ship been near enough, I could have jumped on board and engaged with llui'e men single handed. What had become of poor Harry Bumstcad, thought I, and the few men who might have remained faithful to him ! While these thoughts, and a thousand oilt ers, were wildly rushing through my mind, the D nroot Dll, 1 Kn«. _ :* ••j old friend, fur all the lies they had told in answer lo my questions. 1 had no thought or conjectures on lh» subject; hut that ship was ihe Dorset, [ knew jest as well as j should have known my own brother. As ihe ship passed on, 1 saw a face at one nf the qunrier windows. I seized Ihe glass and levelled it. It was Ihe face of Harry Rum stead, as sure ns late I And he waved a handkerchief towards me wilh the most fran tic gesliculalions. The sense of pain was just sinking into my whole soul, when an idea flashed across my mind that caused me lo fairly leap fr >m mv feet. All was now hope and bustle in my brain, and as soon ns possible I got mV wits into working order. “Put the ship upon her course again,” I ordered. “We can do nothing?” said Deckel, inter rogatively. “Wail,” said I in return. “It isn’t too late yel.” “But—” “Slop. Wail uniil I have shaped out a plan, and then you shall know it.” Ii was now quite late, for just as poor Har rv Bumstead waved his handkerchief at me the last time, the sun was sinking into the wes’ern waters. I watched the Dorset until distance and gloom combined lo hide her from me, andd knew that she was hound for the Atlantic. I saw her take in her lofty sails in preparation for the night, and I fell mv hope increase. The last I could see, she was steering southwest. As soon ns it was dark, 1 had the helm up and ordered the ship lo bo worn around upon the other lack, and ns soon ns this was done, I set the course due south, and crowded on all sail. The officers and men gathered round me and wished lo know wbal all this meant. “It means,’ answered I, “thatT will have those villains in irons again, if I can.” “But how?” came from half a dozen “I’ll tell you. Our ship is by all odds the best sailor, even with equal sail sol; but now that the Dorset has only topgallant sails over double reefed topsails, we can shoot ahead fast. By midnight, 1 calculate to be further south than she will be, so I’ll keep on this course until I am‘sure, and then I’ll run to the west’rd and lie in wailing for her.” “And what then ?” “I can tell you better when the time come". But be not afraid, for I wont fun into dneger.” The breeze held fair, npd we carried our royals and studding-sails below and nlofi.— At midnight, I knew wo must be considera bly farther south than the Dorset, but in stead of running directly west, I changed the course to west-south-west, knowing that thus we should come upon the other’s track soon etfough. At three o’clock I made a careful reckoning of our log for the last nine hours, and also of the point the Dorset must strike, if she kept her course southwest, and 1 felt sure that we were just where should be. My first move was to heave to and lake in sail; and then I sent the topgallant masts on deck end housed the topmasts. Next, 1 had all our arms brought upon deck, and I WELLSBOROUGH, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 6, 1855. found we had more than enough for a brace of pistols and a cutlass to each man. After this I had the pumps rigged, and hardly had this been accomplished before the lookout re ported a sail. I hastened forward, and could plainly see the outlines of the top-hamper of a heavy ship looming up darkly against the sky. I had the lanterns hoisted, and then set the men at work at the pumps. Ere long, the ship came near enough to hail. She pul down her helm, and laid her course'to run under our stern. “Ship ahoy I” came from the Dorset—for I could make-out the drapery of the figure head." I made my mate answer at my suggestion for fear the villains should recognize my voice. “Hallo! send a boat onboard!” yelled, Lee, just as the Dorset passed under our stern. • “We’ve sprung a leak, and our ship is sinking.” “What have ye got aboard ?” “Furniture and provisions, and forty thou sand pounds in money.” The Dorset hove to, and lowered a boat, which was soon alongside full of men. The villains quickly began to come over the side. “Haven l settled much yer,” one of them remarked, as he noticed how high we stood. “We’ve kept the pumps going well,” 1 said. “Where’s your gold? Let’s have that firsi. ” “This way,” said I, moving to the poop. .When half way there, I motioned fur the men to slop pumping. [‘Down !” I tillered and as I spoke, I gave the man nearest me a blow with my cutlass across the head that knocked him down. Only fifteen of the men had come from the other ship, and as my crew were prepared, these fifteen were down and gagged almost before they could realize that anything was out of the way. They were unprepared, and nearly all of (hem were unarmed. “Ship ahoy !” I cried, through mv I rum pet, speaking ns gruinly ns possible, to imi ta e the voice of the fellow I had knocked down. “Hallo 1 ” came in reply. “Send another boat. Wo can’t bring half. Send quickly, for the old thing is sinking.” The Dorset soon lowered one of her quar ter-boats, and came alongside, with ten men in it. They came hurrying over the side, «•- - 1 , - way, we fell upon them—not wildly, but with regular system —and in a short lime they were secure. My course was now simple. I firsi saw every man so firmly bound thal he could not even move, and then 1 called Iwenlv-four men inlo lhe Iwo boals, slill alongside, leav ing only six men on board of my ship.— We pulled for the Dorset ns smartly as pos sible. When we came to her gangway, I saw several heads peering over the rail, but we had taken the precaution to put on the Scotch caps of the convicts, and they had no suspicions. Deckel was the first on her fleck, and I followed nex'. “Got the money 1” asked a coarse fellow. “Most of it is in the boats now,” I replied. “Rig a whip, and we'll have it aboard.” The villain had nol noticed my weapons. I recognized m him at once the boatswain of the ship, a man who had been hired at Liv erpool, and whose character was not among the besi. As he turned to order the whip rigged, [ saw that my men were all on board, and drawing my weapon, I sprang upon him and cut him down. At the first onset on board my own ship, I hid been careful not to kill any one, for fear I might be mistaken ; but I was not doub'ful now, for some of the prisoners had confessed the crime. There were seventeen men aft on board the ship for me to capture, and we captured them without losing one of our own men, and only killing lour of them. As soon as our pris oners were safe, I made my way to the cab in, and in one of the quarter galleries 1 found Capl. Bumstcad. In the hold of the Dorset we found fifteen of the crew in irons. ijiimslcad explained to me, in a few words, what had happened. Only five days before, the boatswain, who had shown much insubordination during the the voyage, headed nineteen of the, crew, who had joined him, and having set the con victs free, they fell upon the rest of the cr&w at night, and made an easy - victory. The first and second mates they had killed, and the boatswain would have killed all hands, but the rest of the mutineers refused to have it done. Soft had been arranged that the; O J captain and his friends should be confined, and set on shore on the first out of the way island they could find. J It was soon arranged that Bumstead should' proceed to Sydney wi'h his fifteen faithful men, feeling sure' that the convicts could be .so confined as to bo safe. So I saw his pris oners faithfully ironed, and then look the mutineers on board my own ship, intending to carry them to Calcutta. There were 15 in number, four only having been killed in the conflict. That night the Dorset tacked and stood away for Australia, while we kept on up the ocean. We arrived safely at Calcutta, and before ( left, Capl. Bumstead arrived, and the mutineers soon alter paid for their crime with their lives. This life is too short for the indulgence of many hopes, the chasing of many baubles, or the seeking after riches which may take to themselves wings. I Ip you want an ignoramus to respect you, “dross to death” and wear watch seals as largo as brickbats. M T A rrM “ THE AGITATION OP .THOUGHT IS THEBEGINNING OF WISDOM.” v em’ ;u ;• The following is sublimely benutiflil and pathetic, and could only liovo been dictated by a heart that has experienced all lire bitter ness that is therein expressed. If any body can rend it without moisture in the eyes, they are worthy of marble.:— Hush ! she is dying! The sun light streams through the plate glass windows—the room is fragrant with the sweet breath of the Southern flowers—large milkwhhe African lillies—roses a nightingale would stoop to wjorship ; Cape jessamines and camllies with their large glossy leaves. Through the open casement steals the faint, musical tinkle of playing fountains ; the light, tempered pleasantly by rose curtains of em broidered satin, kindles up gorgeous old paint ings with a halo bright ns a rainbow. It is as if fresher sunshine were fulling eastward on the bower of beauty. The canary sings in his gilded cage—her canary ; and the mocking bird raises his clear notes higher and higher on the perfumed air. Why do you clench your hands until the nails draw the rich, rosy blood through the thin quivering skin? Why do you grind your teeth together, and hiss between them, that one word, hush? It’s a beautiful home, I am sure, and that Indy with her hand upon her bnsom, is as fair as any dream vision of the painter. / Surely nothing could be purer than that broad, high brow ; nothing brighter than these golden curls. And she loves you, too! Ah ! yes, any one can read that in the deep violet eyes, raised so tenderly to your own. Ah ! that is it; your young wife loves you. , She linked to yours the existence of an angel when she kheft beside you at the mar riage ahar and placed her hand in yours. For twelve long golden sunny months an angel has walked or sat by your side, or slept in your bosom. You know it! No mortal woman ever made your heart bow before a purity so di vine I No earthly embraqp ever filled your soul wiih the glory beyond the stars; no earthly smile ever shone so unchangingly above all noisome things, ns you earthworms call care and trouble. She is an angel, and other an gels have been singing to her in the long days of this pleasant June lime. “Hush !” you say, but you cannot shut the anthem notes of heaven from those un sealed ears! Louder, lighter, swells the 1.--, ~ „r t i.« - !■» | bri'’hler grows the smile on your young lips^ ~She whispers, “Dearest, I’m almost home, and you will come by and bv, and I am go ing to ask God to bless you !” lint you can not hear it—you turn away, and the big tears gather in the violet eyes. You had held her there on your bosom all day—all night ; are you tired? But ycTucan not answer. Closer—closer you clasp the slight, fair figure; painfully you press your lips to the cold brow—Carrie is dead I What is it to you that the sunshine is bright; what thal its cheerful rays fall on the broad lands—our lands ? What is it— nnw that she can walk on ihem no more? And what is dealh—her death? Few people knew her; no vice-president must be chosen to fill her place ; no nation will raise a monu ment to her memory I But she was yours; great God of ours—your all I No—yours and God's ; and your year of joy is over, and she rests on His bosom now in heaven. They have dug a grave for her. Spring flowe.is brighten over it, and the green grass smiles wiih daises and violets. You go I here, and ask God if you, ton, may come home I and when no answer comes, your proud heart ri«es up in bitterness, and with the bold, wicked words upon your tongue, yon pause for guardian angels lock down from heaven, and whisper—“hush I” The Virginia Washington Monument. The casting of the horse for this monument at Munich, is one of the great ferns nf mod orn foundry, as fifteen tons of bronze had to be melted and kept in a slate of fluidity. For several days and nights previously a large fire was at these huge masses, which required to bo stirred at limes. When the bronze was liquified, an ullimaie essay was made in a small trial cast, arid (o heighten the color some more copper was added. Suc cessively all iho chambers through which the melal had to flow in the form were cleared of the coal with which they had been kepi warm, and the master examined all the air spiracles and the issues of the melal ; Ihe props of ihe lubes were then placed, and every man had his duty and place assigned to him. Finally, Ihe master, amid ihe intense expec laiion of ihe many art amateurs present, pro nounced Ihe words, “In Iho name of God,” and then three mighty strokes opened Ihe fiery gulf, out of which the glowing metal flowed in a circuit to the largo form. The sight was magnificent; and in the little sen of fire stood the master, and gave his com mands about the successive opening of the props. Hot vapor pooreifrotn the air spira cles ; in the conduits Ihe metal boiled in wavesy slill, no decision yet, as the influx of the bronze in the very veins of ihe figure could be but slow. At once flaming showers jumped out of the air conduits, and the master pro claimed the cast to have succeeded. A loud cheer followed, when the master approached Mr. Crawford, the artist of the Washington Monument, to congratulate him on this suc cess. Another cheer was giVen IoM, deMil ler, (he chief of the royal foundry at Munich, who had personally conducted the work. Miss Fantadlino says if she ain’tdead, she has lost, her vital, spark—the man who used to “sit up” with her. im .j> ttwarm’it&agf nation. Dr.- SamneVJobnson was of opinion that most Irfrtg aritta from indiiTerenoe atwot the truth,'rather thanfrom a wish to deceive. People are not sufficiently anxious to be dot* rect; they say anything that comes upper moat,' Or what they think will please,"witboht reflecting whether it be strictly true or non It is a common error of tradesmen, from a desire to please, or worse reasons, to promise to have work done at a particular lime when they are not sura of their ability to do so, or know p'osi;ively they are not able. Many persons, also, either from heedless ness,' or design, say what they think will create surprise, without supposing that they are doing any harm. Perhaps (here is some truth in what they eay, but it is so magnified or exaggerated, with the view of exciting won der, that it has the character and effect of falsehood. Such people are in the habit of using the words, “vast, immense, grand,-sub lime, magnificent, tremendous,” and others of that nature, when words of a more simple meaning should be employed. “Father,” said a boy one day, I saw an immense number of dogs—five hundred I am sure—in the street last night.” “Surely not so many?" said his father. "Well, ihere were one hundred, I’m quite sure.” “It could not be,” said ihe father; I don’t think there are a hundred dogs in the village.” Well, sir, it could not be less than ten; this lam quite certain of." “I will not believe that you ever saw ten,’’ said the father f for you spoke as confidently of seeing five hundred as of seeing this smaller number. You have contradicted yourself twice already, and now :•!) ■; J A t " NO.-80; Falsehoods of Exaggerations. I cannot believe you.” “I saw at least our Dash; and another one.” This is on example of erroneons'reporting through eagerness to make out a wonderful case. For the same reason, an uneducated' man, who had been in the West Indies, hear ing some one speak of the sun rising at mid summer about four in the morning, said, “O, that is nothing to what he does in Jamaica. I have seen him rise there between two and three.” This man did not know that that was impossible, and (hat .we must go towards the poles, and not towards the tropics, in order to see the sun rise very early. It is common too, to hear people say that they have not been so warm in all their lives ; that some one’s gown is the prettiest they ever saw ; or that they never were so happy as at Mrs. Smith’s parly ; when it is obvious that they are alleging what is utterly impos sible for them to be quite sure of. A little real respect for truth, and desire to follow it at all times, aided by a little reflection on the meaning of the words we are about to utter, would save us from falsehoods of this kind. There is yet another species of falsehood, which consists in saying one thing but mean ing another; this ought at all times to be avoided, the same as positive lying. Pefsons who resort to this mean practice think that, because they do not lie in the words they use, they do not commit any actual sin or crime. But ihis is a mere delusion. The lie is com mitted fay the attempt to convey a false or wrong meaning, for the purpose of mislead '." a ’.'j"' -h « mode of.speakinc is there fore both deceitful and sinful. In the whole business of ihe world, truth is of great importance. We should not only observe it in everyihing relating to ourselves and our neighbors, but we should seek lo as certain it, and hold fast by it, in all things. If we study history, we should endeavor to gel the books of best authority. If we.culti vate science, we should make sure that we receive nothing which is not satisfactorily proved. Nothing but good testimony can prove ihe truth of an event; and nothing but experiment, and a careful observation of facts can prove the truth of anything in science. We should allow no. opinion to rest in our mind-unless we are certain, and have taken pains lo make ourselves conscientiously cer tain, that it is right, and not founded in error. Every wrong opinion, or supposition of what is false, lends to do harm in the world j while everything we know for truth, and every opinion and sentiment that we know to be rightly founded, tends to the good of man kind.—Chambers. The Law and the Constitution. —A new, or as some say, an old reading of this caption, is had as follows : Judge Wiles, as he is called, was once presiding in San Augustine, when a legal bully attempted lo intimidate him. Thompson having succeeded in packing a jury to suit his purpose, turned his attention to the Court, and remarked “If your honor please, here is the law which governs this case,” at the same time drawing a Bowie knife of an unusual size, and laying it before him across an open book, “Forewarned, forearmed,” said the Judge, and drawing from beneath his hunting shirt, not a colt, but a horse pistol, he very calmly rejoined— This sir, is the constitution, and is para mount to the law.” Mr. Thompson, finding himself thus ably matched, peaceub'y acquiesced. The “better part of valor is discretion,” says F^alslaff. We have heard of a cute trick by which those wandering women called gipsies, prac ticed often on young women. A number of young ladies were out walking in the country, who mol a gipsey woman who offered, for half a dollar apiece, to show them their fu ture husbands’ faces in a pool of water that was near. In their frolic they agreed to it, and paid her the money, the more readily as she promised to refund it if she did not fulfil her engagement. The girls were led to the water, each anxious to get a sight of her in tended, but instead of the form and face they expected, they saw only their own rosy cheeks and laughing eyes below. “Surely, you are mistaken woman,” said one of them, “we see nothing but our own faces in the-waler.” “Very true, Miss,” replied ilw gipsey, “but will not these be your husbands' faces when you are married 1" A Gentibuan said he should like to seo a boat full of girls set adrift png the ocean, just to see which way they sheuld steer." “Qh,” replied a lady present, easily answered. They would stcef Isle of Man, to be suit. - ’