Terms of Publication. THE TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR is pub. I,shed every Thursday Morning, and mailed to sub scribers at the very reasonable priee of Oat Don um per annum, invariably •« advance. It is intend ed to notify every subscriber when the term for which he has paid shall have expired, by the stamp —“Time Out,” on the margin of the last paper. The paper willlhen be stopped until a further re mittance be received. 1 By this arrangement no man can be brought in debt to Tb* Agitato* iB Official Paper of the Coon tv with a largo and steadily increasing circulation reaching into! nearly every neighborhood in the County. It is sent free of postage to any Post-office within the county limits, and to those living within the limits, bat whose most convenient postoffice may he in an adjoining County. Business Cards, not exceeding S lines, paper in cluded, $4 per year. j LIFE'S LESSON. She is gone! alas no longer May we wander side by side. Every day my love grew stronger, For my fair and gentle bride— Memories of one year ago, Only deeper make my woe. Oh! how fast that summer faded, Flowers and music came with spring; Soon the glowing sky was shaded, Every bird was on the wing. When the Autumn breezes blew. My heart's rose was withering too. Daily growing dear and dearer, Heart in heart, and hand in band, growing ocflr and oenrert * To the happy spirit-land. When the snow-flakes coldly felt My sweet wife was slumbering well. But for me the lonely-hearted Where for comfort can I turn, My one earthly joy departed, A life lesson 1 must learn. Standing by this early grave Learn to suffer, and be brave. Learn to smooth the way for others, 1 Raise the fallen, and the weak Leo rn to love my erring brothers, Words of cheer to all to speak— And till faith is changed to sight To do battle for the right. VIRGINIA. Gen. Harden’s Resignation. BY B. P. SIIIIXABAB. The General had been many years in com mission, and it seemed to the anxious ones who were waiting either for death or resigna tion, in order to advance, that neither of those desirable events would ever take place. The old man was tough and clung to life and office with all the tenacity of a dog to a bone. He was a rare specimen of the “good old fellow,” and not a voice would have been heard among the youngly ambitious to move for his removal. Their patience at last became exhausted, and after consulting together they agreed upon a ruse by which the General would be driven into a resignation. Having laid their plans, they prepared to carry them into exe cution. One of them meeting the General the next day shook hands wittr-him very cordially and (old him that he had justTiearif of his resig naiion, which he hoped was not Hue, and, before the General had a chance losreply, begged the old man to partake of suppenwith a party of his fellow-officers the next evening, as a parting tribute. \ The General was much surprised, and in\ formed his friend that he hadn’t any inten tion of resigning, and couldn’t think, for the life of him, where the report came from. After a few remarks more on both sides they separated. , * - The General plodded along by' himsell, thinking over whal he had said, and mutter ing—“ What does it mean? Have 1 said anything about resigning when I have had 100 much wine on? Perhaps I have.” “Good morning, General,” said another officer, meeting him; “bow are you this morning, sir ?” “Very well, very well, thank’ee,” replied the General. “So,” continued the other, “you are going to resign, General; well, you have served the State long and faithfully, and I should think you would like to rest,” “Where did you hear about my resign ing’.” said the General, more surprised than before. “Colonel Jones told me,” was the reply ; “I was in there after you had gone last night. Why can’t you meet us to-morrow night at the tavern, General’ We think of getting tip a little supper, in hOnor of your resig nation. “Thank you,” said the General, “I’ll be there.” The General turned away with the impres sion that he had, the night previous, while under the influence of the Colonel’s wine, given the intimation that he was going to resign. “Hang my longue at both ends,” said be ; “this is a queer state of things. I never thought of resigning. But——” “Ah, General, good morning ; glad to see you,” said Col. Jones, coming abruptly upon his superior. “Well, your intended resigna tion gives the boys a chance to manifest their regard for you. They are having a fine supper preparing to come off to morrow night, in your honor, and you must reserve your fire.” The General laughed, slapped his friend, ihe Colonel on the back and said, “Certain ly, Jones, the 1 fire of the flint is here yet. Good for twenty years." He did not dare to ask Jones for an ex planation because it would be an admission that he was weak headed and approaching toward dotage to acknowledge that he had been overcome by wine, and that was the only way by which he could account for Ine resignation which they spoke about. He had rather actually resign than labor under' such a stigma as this, and accordingly he said: “Well, Jones, you know I’ve been In the service a good while, and want a little quiet; so you see I think it best to resign. The poetry of dying in the harness is very well, but hang me il 1 fancy it.” They shook hands and parted ; the Gene ral m a whirl of excitement and the Colonel 10 TtI eVer !" un al *^ e succeBs of the ruse. next night a splendid supper was pre pared and a large number of military guests Th n alten ded in the tallest figure. ® eneral was there in full regimentals, is lace was glowiug with the excitement of e moment and from oiher causes; and the note affair, as the village paper said the e*t morning was splendidly gotten up; appmess waved her illumined wing over the oeno, and the' genius of cheerfulness rested ln S° nia ‘ content on every heart and beamed THE AGITATOR. gefroteg to tftc Sfttnffion of tf)t of iFmirom ang t&e of ©caltßg Reform. WHILE THEBE SHALL BE A WRONG UNSIGHTED, AND UNTIL “ MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE. YOU. IY. upon every countenance. The Colonel to quote the same authority, “presides with the usual dignity," and when the cloth was re moved he called upon all (o fill their glasses to respond to a sentiment which he had to offer, which he would preface by a few re marks. “We have,” said he as our honored guest this evening, our beloved General Hardun, whose long service has been fully appreciated by us in common with the whole community. We rejoice to meet with him on this occasion although our meeting is not one of unalloyed festivity. There is one bitter ingredient in our cup. Gen. Hardun has signified his in tention of resigning I This announcement, I need not say was unexpected as it was painful. Our connection has been so long and intimate, that parting seemed impossible, yet such is the decree of fate. But while your flag floats in triumph over your head we will remember the undying glory shed upon it by the illustrious man who now with draws from its support. I pledge you the health and long continuance of our gallant friend, Gen. Hardun.” Tbe speech was received with nine cheers, a “Tiger,” perhaps, but whether tbe growl which resounds from all sorts of jungles was then known is a matter of doubt. The great est enthusiasm was displayed and his health was drank in three brimming glasses, one after another. As soon as silence was re stored the General rose to respond. “Friends,” said he—holding to the table, for his emotion made him unsteady, and his voice was husky from the same cause— “ Friends, your kindness overpowers me. I never (ill this moment dreamed (hat I was half so much regarded by you. Gentlemen, fellow soldiers, brethren in arms—it gives me pleasure to meet .with such good fellows. My association with you has been of the most pleasant, I may say glorious character: We have long served on the tented field, and fought and bled and died, so to speak, or would, have done so at duty’s call, cemented together like bricks in the deadly imminent breaches of war. With a full remembrance of this I will, that in view of all your regard and of the feeling you display about losing me, I should be an ingrale if I allow a selfish consideration to inspire me. Therefore, whatever Lmay have said about resigning, I hereby retract, and declare that I’ll stick to you to the last. It will be impossible for me to leave such a glorious set of boys.” A shout of laughter responded to the Speech and Col. Jones gave an extended wink around the board very expressive of the belief which he had that moment entertained that they were all especially humbugged, and that -Asiai-*, The impression con tinued till the next day, when the ones who ordered the supper had to pay the hill.— Boston Gazette. Cariosities of the Censas. Among the curiosities of the Census, says the Albany Evening Journal, “The ages of all those (orly-ijiree thousand brides and grooms, in this Stale, will of coarse be inter esting to our readers. Mr. Hough has sought it all out, and his co-adjutor in this statistical gossip, has printed it in his plainest type. — Among the husbands, who were not chickens, were two who took the vows at the age each of 85 years. One of them joined himself unto a damsel of 66, and the other with more vernal tastes, sought felicity in the society of a girl of 40. Of young wives (could their mothers have known that these goslings were out?) there were thirteen who were only 13 years old! Seventy were only 14 years old. Two hundred and forty-nine were 15 years old, and of “sweet sixteen” wives, there were 676. Of the baby husbands who also es caped maternal watchfulness that year, four were 15 years old! One of these was picked up by another baby—a girl of 14—another was entangled by a 15 year old female—an other was entrapped by a tough young lady of 22, and the fourth was kindly taken in and done for by an experienced woman of 23. There were twelve husbands who were only 16 years old each. There were thirty-eight who were only 17 years old. There were (their impatience increases) one hundred and fifty-nine husbands, who were only 18 years old, when they undertook to solve that con nubial paradox that two are one. It will not at all surprise our readers to learn that sixty three of these infants married women older than themselves. The tastes of two o/them, led them to select wives 40 years old—rather, they got selected, poor chickens, by these old hawks, who had unquestionably been watch ing for them ever since they were out of the sbel I. The age amongst the men at which there was the most marriage, was 23. The age at which most women married in that year was 20. The oldest bride had reached the maturity of 77. The groom in this case was a year younger. The three favorite hymenial periods of life among the girls of New York, in 1855, were at the ages of 19, 20 and 21. Correspond ing to these, among “the boys" were the ages 21, 22 and 23.” Boys.are sometimes endowed with remar kable memories, We know a family in the city, consisting of one girl and one boy—the latter about several years old. They were silling one evening around the table engaged in telling each, other, how far back they could recollect. The little girl recollected when she was a “doll that cried.” The boy here spoke upand said that be recollected worse than that. “How worse,” chimed in half a dozen voices in a breath. “Why, I recollect four weeks afore I was born, and I cried all the time for fear I’<L be a gal !’’ WELLSBORQ, TIOGA COUNTY. PA., THURSDAY MORNING. DECEMBER 10, 1857. Our pages have still to depict dark scenes and dark localities; for crimes and poverty are rampant jo the great metropolis of Amer ica. Yet though we shall conduct our rend*, era into the gloomy Tartarean regions of the city, where want, suffering, vice and murder mingle and blend in horrid association, there will not be all that is dreadful—not all dark ness ; for even in these fearful precincts, some choice, sacrificing spirits, animated by a love for the Giver of ail good, and charity for their neighbor, are endeavoring to do the work of regeneration ; trying to diffuse ibe lights of knowledge and the practice of virtue, lending a moral radiance to the murky scene?, in which they labor. Go two squares direcily east of the Tombs, and you will find yourself in the veiy centre of the Five Points, that noted locality, where the demon of wickedness appears to exercise in such full power his dominion. There are grocery stores, clothing stores, milk stands—yet so wretched in aspect, that they correspond pari passu to the poverty and filthiness which surround them. In lhe evening Iho visitor is surprised at the crowded appearance of the place. The streets are almost impassible. You are jam med and jostled on all sides, and every grog gery seems to be full, and doing a swimming business. Poverty and crime a ppear to level all, for their is no caste, no classes, but all are on an equality, and carouse, drink, and swear together, without fear of being affected morally or mentally by low associations,— Nor is this all. Even color ceases to exert its privileges, for white and black, long hair and woolly head are on familiar terms. In speaking to a police officer of the im mense throngs rushing to and fro in these streets, he informed me that almost every room contained a family, and nine-tenths of the whole population were thieves and pros- j unites. On every side are indications of abandon ed humanity. Ragged children, reeking with filth, are playing neglected in the streets, using the most profane language, committing petty thefts, and doing other things signifi cant of the penitentiary, or the gallows, in maturer years. Poor, forlorn, degraded pros titutes, festering with disease, and broken by dissipation, stand at the door to invite the cu rious traveler to enter their miserable domi cile. On some of the corners are congrega ted four or five youths, from fifteen to twenty years of age, with so much peculation in their countenances, that the passer by instinc tively claps his hand on his pocket, and breathes freer as he leaves them in Jhe dls.- laucc. .\ll eyes appear cvfl eyes; ana ine whole locality smells of corruption—even the meat on the butcher’s stalls looks black, sus picious and diseased. An effluvia pervades the whole atmosphere, and though people live in that sink of corruption, there is no indica tion of healthfuloess in their countenances, which are sallow, wan and downcast. About eleven o’clock at night the revelry at the Five Points commences, and is in full blast at twelve. The dance bouses are numerous, each fur nished with a bar where liquor is sold at three cents per glass, collects the little money pos sessed by the thieves, prostitutes and murder ers, and supply them continually with poison ed fluid in the shape of drink, increase in a tenfold degree their debased animal instincts. One of these, a subterranean place of revel ry, once kept by the notorious negro, Pele Williams, is thus described by the Rev. L. M. Pease, Superintendent of the Five Points House of Industry, in his monthly record of the Institution, from the proof sheets of which we are permitted to make this extract. “The toll was paid and pocketed, the door opened, when, passing down four steps more, we stood aghast in the assembly room of the far-famed Pete Williams, familiarly cajjed ‘Uncle Pete.’ Doctors, lawyers, ministers, statesmen, officials, high and low, and even foreign dig nitaries, have all paid their tribute to this mysterious personage. ; In his presence the distinctions of wealth, position and character, die as by enchant ment. The while-gloved aristocrat, the buck ram pimp of fashionable life, so fat loses his drawing room tastes, as to join harmonious bands with the greasy fingered negress. In his presence, too, all social and political an tagonisms are forgotten, and northern and southern demagogues in ‘glorious union,’ for sooth, take the floor with Five Point wenches, (superior to themselves, us sinning from ne cessity, they from choice,) leaning on their arras. The room was some twenty feet square, and ten feet from floor to ceiling. When 1 had regained my self-possession, I commen ced looking'about me. At my left stood a score of beings of both sexes, some well and soma ill dressed, and some scarcely dressed at all, grouped together at a counter, on which stood a basket of cigars, tumblers, and a number of half emptied decanters, • which were in a few moments thoroughly drained and replaced by others. On the same side, midway the room, and elevated some three feet, sal two colored men, one with a violin, the other with a tambourine, while all around the sides was a mongrel row of lolling, smoking, jesting, laughing men and women. Among ihero sat a sharp featured, dark whiskered, black-eyed andgentlemanly dress ed Saxon, with bis arm clasping the waist of a low necked, short-sleeved, flat-nosed, wide nostrilled, thick-lipped slouched E'faiopiao, while above them hung a picture of our country’s father. Shall that arm ever again clasp mother, sister, daughter, or .wife 1 A blow from the fist of the presiding ge nius on the low desk before him was ihe sig- Features of New York Life. nal for another ‘breakdown.’ A dozen cou ples were on the floor in as many seconds, and the dance commenced. ‘Up, down, for ward, backward, right, left, cross,’ in quick succession was beard, followed by many and as rapid evolutions. The spirit of the dance is fully aroused; on flies the fiddle bow fast er and faster; on jingles tambourine, ’gainst bead and heels, knee and elbow, and- on smash the dancers. The excitement becomes general. Every fool, leg, arm, head, lip and body are all in motion. Sweat, swear, fiddle, dance, shout and stamp, underground, in smoke and dhst, and putrid air! (O thou Christ! in this image didst thou make roan, and for such as these did thou die!” Such is the graphic description of a dance house, given by (his intelligent and self sac rificing divine, and even this picture, thus masterly drawn, is not dark enough (or the dark original; for these midnight orgies of the most depraved of both sexes, seldom end, without bloody noses, black eyes and swollen' lips, and often murder. It is to such haunts that thieves who have lived expiration of their sentence to Blackwell’s Island or the Stale Prison, return, to run the same career of crime, and meet the same penalty when delected. The Five Points fire fatal to all good ; and as well might the mariner of yore attempt to steer through Charbydis and Scyl la, as a resident of that locality escape being swallowed up in the vortex of corruption.— A criminal man cannot there reform; there is not a small saving plank, be must wreck again. It is in this pandemonium that parents, for getting the strongest instinct of the human bosom, parental affection, which is the last divine attribute that leaves them, train their sons in all the wily ways of the adept thief, .and the young daughter, just flowering and blossoming into womanhood, to forget the promptings of innocence, and tread the paths of shame and prostitution. How horrible it is to reflect on such depravity, and how dread ful is the punishment visited even by nature herself on the victims of transgression ! The young girls who commence a dissolute life never ripen into womanhood. Directly they commence to sin, like flowers with the ‘worm in the'bud,” they commence to fade, and in a few short years, poor, wan, and blasted things, ‘unannealed’ and unpilied, they are gathered like rubbish, and thrown into Poller’s Field. —Life Illustrated. A Battle Incident. At the battle of the Thames a laughable incident occurred, which is thus related by one who was in the engagement : open order, with the-cannon pointing ■ the road, by which the Americans were ad vancing. General Harrison immediately took advantage of this and ordered Colonel John son’s mounted regiment to charge at speed by heads of companies, (so as to expose the least possible front,) pass through the open inter vals and form in the rear of the British for ces. This movement was brilliantly execu ted by the battalion under the command of Lieut. Col. James Johnson, his brother, Col. Richard M. Johnson, at the same time char ging the Indians with the other battalion. It happeneilhal in.one of the companies under James Johnson’s command, there- was a huge, brawny fellow, named Lamb; he weighed about two hundred and forty pounds as good humored as big, brave men prover bially are. Lamb had broken down his Ken tucky horse by his great weight and was mounted instead upon a short, stout wild Ca nadian pony, from whose sides his long limbs depended almost to the ground, while his bulky frame rose high above the beast, look ing not unlike an overgrown boy astride of a rough sheep. When the charge was made Lamb’s pony took fright and broke into a run. Lamb pulled until the bit broke in the animal’s mouth, and all command of him was lost. The little pony stretched himself to the work, dashed out of the ranks, soon out-stripped all the file leaders and rushed on in advance of the company. Lamb was no longer master of his horse or himself, and he was in a quan dry. If he rolled off he would be tram pled to death by his friends ; if the horse lushed upon the British lines with him, so far ahead of the rest he must be killed.' Either way seemed inevitable, and, to use his ex pression, he thought “he’d jtsl say something they could tell his friends in old Kentucky when they went home.” He stuck both heels in the pony’s flanks and urged him to his utmost speed. On they drove, some fifty yards in from of the leading file, Lamb's gigantic person swaying from side to side, and his legs swinging in a most portenlious manner—the little Canadian “pul ling foot” all he knew how, his tail straight, hts nostrils distended, his ears pinned back and hts eyes flashing from under their shag gy foretop, with all the spleen of a born devil. Just as he got within a stride or two of the British, Lamb flourished his rifle and roared out in a voice of thunder, “clear out of the way, for I am coming!” , To his surprise the line opened right and left, and he passed through unhurt. So great was' their astonishment at the strange appari tion of such a rider, and such a horse-moving upon them, with furious velocity, that they opened mechanically at his word of command and let him pass. As soon as he gained the rear of their position, Lamb rolled on the grass and suffered" his pony to go-on his own road. A few minutes more and he was with his comrades securing the prisoners. An English writer says, in his.advice to young married woman, that their mother, Eve, ‘married a gardner.’ It might be added that the gardner in consequence of his match, lost bis situation. . A Sad Story. ‘ The Cincinnati! Gazette relates the follow, ing incident which occurred at: Xenia on the 4tb inst: * I “Among the passengers in (he train from Cleveland was a young- man perhaps 80, and a lady some few years bis senior. The gen tleman was plainly clad, but' the girl was dressed in the extreme of fashion, and rouged beyond brazen wamonness. It was frequent ly observed by the passengers that the young man appeared to be earnestly remonstrating with (he girl, and seemed to be deeply affect ed. At Xenia both left the cars, and it was apparent that the course of each lay in differ ent directions—the man to this city, and the girl to the West. As the Cars were about starting, the young man kissed her a hasty good bye, and both burst into tears. The conductor, seeing that there was aotne deep grief at heart, invited,the gentleman (o a seat in the baggage car, as more .secluded from the gaze of the crowd. ‘Any vyhere,’ said he, ‘only coma with me. I'must speak to some one, or my heart will break,’ • After J becoming a little calmed, he said : ‘that lady and myself were raised together ; with moss for carpets, a&orns for cups and saucers, and pebbles for walks, we played in childhood. She was a few years older than myself, but we were inseperable. She grew up to womanhood, was married, then sepa rated from her husband, and sought the city and became a wanton—a heartless disgraced courtezan. Steeped in sin asi she is, shame less as she may be, T could pot but kiss her good-bye, for she is my sister! She has already hurried a loving mother to the grave, and brought disgrace upon : her brothers and sisters. But while she acknowledges it all, and sheds tears of apparent contrition and re gret, no remonstrances can change her course. She has just been home to make us a visit, but has left again for her residence in the city, to drown in the wantan’B|life the remem brance of what she was, andwhat she might have been. ‘Do you blame me then ?” turn ing to the sympathizing conductor,"‘Tor weep ing as I do over one so loved .'and fallen V ” How They Catch Husbands Out West. •—Unthinking gentleman, I Mr. Green, has lady pul under bis charge by anybody, per haps by gentlemanly strangqr, who, in con fidence stj )e, asks him to see her ashore, when they arive at Snagville. Mr. Green, rather fascinated hy his young protege, more or less. Very dull on boardjsleamboal, pas sengers tired to death. Mij, Green prose cutes intimacy, and meets with bewildering success. Passengers continue to he very eugbVa 'iVuuiun i mlnti a ituie scanuat I just to pass the time. Green’s, young lady is observed by other ladies—kind, good, sweet ladies —lo cry a great deal in very conspicuous parts of the vessel, and sud denly muffle up her face and sob, or else run. Lady passengers, full of pity, conclude at once that Green is a wretch. Ask girl if he isn’t; girl “boo-hook” Grand in dignation scene ; gentlemen passengers hold a meeting ; noble, impulsive hearts, let out their fine manly feelings;: high-ioned moral captain looks grimly and virtuously saga cious ; winks to passengers. Takes Mr. Green aside, and bullies him about the girl ; Green turns blue. Captain balls him a vil lain before the folks, and orders a marriage forthwith. Green declines!. Captain pro duces two revolvers, a bowie-knife, and a clergyman. Green “caves in” and consents. Young lady overwhelmed, ladies overwhelm ed, everybody overwhelmed, especially the captain’s clerk, who exchanges winks with the bride when unobserved by the rest of Iho parly. All cheerful ;f captain stands champaigne ; gentlemen ; ladies all sympathy to bride; dinner and report in newspapers. Green turns up a widower three days after among thje iPolicans. Bride has run away with porl-mpnnaie_ and shirt studs !” j Incidents of the Late Disaster. —ln the recent railroad disaster'to a freight train on (he New York Central,|a (dll, slab-sided, lank-haired Yankee drover was along with six’horses in a car that was'.prccipita’ed down the embankment. It rojle'd ovei and over until it reached the bo’lomjof the hollow be low, and rested upon its side. In a minute or two, the terrible sublimity of the scene was broken, and the consternation of the spectators changed to upon seeing the door of the upset car thrown open and the head and body of the Vermont drover pro jecting out of‘it; his elongated physiognomy expressing the most unmitigated astonish ment. - 1 • " - "What on airth," he exclaimed, "ere ye doin' on /” ! [ The effect was irresistibly comic, and the spectators had to laugh, in spite of the ca lamity.* Apropos Retobt. —The Democratic pa pers, quite generally, boihj North and South, take occasion to use the financial panic and the resulting misery atfiong the working men of the free States to point a contrast between the systems of slave and free labor very much in favor of j the former. The Mobile Mercury and the Post of our own city are jubilant over , the condition of the slave under the patriarchal distribution of hog and hominy at the South. The former paper exclaims , f “Show us a single slave south of the Po tomac who has not as much to eat as usual”— to which Iho New Yorli Times very aptly retorts • “Show us a single cart horse north ol ths Potomac which the crisji has deprived of bis fodder." I i Advertisements will be charged 91 per square of fourteen lines, for one, or three insertions, and 25 cents fur every snbseqaent insertion. All advertise* meats of less titan fourteen lines considered as a equate. The following rates will be charged for Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Yearly advertising;— 3 months. 6 months. 13 too’a 1 Square, (14 lines,) - *2 50 $4 50 9SOO 2 Squares,- . . . 400 600 800 J column, • ... 1000 15 00 20 00 1 column.. ... .1800 30 00 40 00 All advertisements not having the number of in. sertions marked upon them, will be kept in nntil or. dered oat, and charged accordingly. Posters, Handbills, Bill, and Letter Heads, and all kinds of Jobbing done in country establishments, executed neatly and promptly. Justices’, Consta. bles’ and other BLANKS, constantly on hand and printed to order. ’ m. xix. ,Tha Rev. John Johnson, D. D., Jala of Newburgh, New York'&vas full of anecdotes respecting bis own adventures among the people whom he was in the habit of visiting on very familiar terms.! Indeed, he was pretty well known by every man, woman and child in the town, where he lived and preached for half a century, A correspondent tells us one of the many pleasant incidents in which the good mao’s life abounded : Walking out back of his house, where a new street .was opening, he saw an Irishman, hard at work with a crowbar, striving to dislodge a huge stone from the ground where it was held fast by the roots of a tree. His patience was fairly exhausted by the vain struggles he made and at last, he exclaimed, in a passion : “The devil lake it! The devil take it!” The old pastor approached him, and, quietly-remarked that he ought not to make such free use of the name of the Evil One, and certainly not wish to throw such a big stone as that at him. The Irishman was quiet in a minute, and striking his,' crowbar into the ground, and leaning leisurely on it, he turned up his face at once to the Doctor and the sunlight, while roguishly played those indescribable forerunners of genuine Irish wit, be replied': “Och, then, and it is yourself that’s findin’ a fault wid me for sayin’ that same, when its. yees and the like.of yees that’s paid by the years for abusin’ the ould gintleman all thd time!’’ The old pastor turned away to smile, and enjoy the retort. The Pisrot.—An Irishman driven to des peration by the stringency of the money market, and the high price of provisions, procured a pistol and look to the road. Meeting a traveler, he stopped him with, “Your money or your life 1” Seeing that Pat was green, he said : “I’ll give you all my money tor that pistol.” “Agreed,” Pat received the money and handed over the pistol. “Now,” said the traveler, “hand back that money, or I’ll blow your brains out!” “Blizzard away, me hearthy,” said Pat, “divil the dhrop of powtber there’s in it, shure!” Two Irishmen who were traveling .together got out of money, and being in want of a drink of whiskey, devised the following ways and means : Patrick catching a frog out of the brook went ahead, and at the very first tavern he cntiumr rv -*asf, ’ “Why it is a frog,” said the landlord. “No sir,” said Pal, “it is a mouse.” “It is a frog,” replied the landlord. “It is a mouse,” and I will leave it to the first traveler that comes this way for a pint of whiskey. “Agreed,” said the landlord. , Murphy soon arrived, and to him was the appeal ihide. After much examination and deliberation, he declared it to be a mouse ; and the landlord, in spile of the evidence of his senses, paid the bet. Wo copy the following queer anecdote from the Gateshead (Eng.) Observer : “An American minister called upon Mr. Spurgeon, and said,-in the conversation, that he had a congregation in the Stales of over three thousand people. Spurgeon: And have you blacks in your congregation 1 Jona. than : Oh, yes. And do you all worship together, or do you have partitions and cur. tains? Oh, the blacks are behind a curtain. And do you take the Lord’s supper with the blacks behind a curtain ? Oh, yes. Now, sir, do you 'know what a monomaniac is ? Oh; yes. Well, sir, lam a monomaniac—a monomaniac on the subject of slavery. (And Spurgeon dashed his hand into his pocket, and, bringing out his penknife opened it.) Yes, sir, lam a perfect monomaniac. I’ve no control over myself, sir; and if you stay here ten minutes longer, I may put this knife into you hypocritical bosom. So I warn you. Be off? I feel it rising on me ! be off, I say. (And be hustled Jonathan to the door, ner vously handling the knife all the- while.) “And did you really mean to stick the lel low !” said the friend to whom he related the story. “Why, no,” said he “perhaps not quite that; but lam going to America before long, and I wanted them to know before I go, that they won’t humbug me about Slavery.” Life in Arkansas. — A stranger was qui etly riding along the wood, when a rifle cracked and a ball tore through his hat. He pulled Up and discovered an old settler “dodging under the smoke to see whether ho had 'brought the varmint.’ ” The following talk ensued : “What in h 1 did you shoot at me for?” “Excuse me, stranger; I’m considered powerful quick on the trigger, I am, stranger, jand as I just noticed you cornin’ through the timber, I allowed that you were riding my horse Bill. But now, I look closer ana see my Bjll ar whiter about the legs. It’s a mighty fine day stranger. ‘Won’t you step to my cabin, just on the far edge of the next clearing,’ and take a horn ? I've got a gourd of as powerful fine whisky as you ever sol to.” To give brilliancy To the eyes, shut them early at night, and open early in the morn, ing; let the mind beiconstantly intent on the acquisition of human knowledge, or the ex ercise of benevolent feelings. This will scaicely ever fail to impart loth* eyes an intelflgen! and amiable expres&ko. Bates of Advertising. Tit for Tat.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers