Terms of Piiblicsilioii*
the TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR is pnl.
* i every Thureday Morning, and mailed to mb
bribers at the very reasonable ,prise x>r P!« Dot
ua^erannum, invariably inadu.net- It.su.tend
“* nntifv every subscriber when the term for
e l. ch he has paid shall have expired, by the stamp
oil" on the margin of, the last paper.
The paper willlhen be slopped until* further re
tS.s be received. By this arrangement no man
fSi?ulv S It is sent free ofjK.tyge to any Post-office
within the county limits, and to those living within
he limits, but whose most conyenrentposloffice may
i_ in an adjoining County,
Business Cards, not exceeding '5 lines, paper in
eluded,H peryeaiv
A MOTHERS GIFT—THE ElffLE.
Remember, love, who gave thee this,
When other daya shall come!
When she who had your earliest kiss
Sleeps in her narrow home;
Remember, ’twas a mother gave
The gill to one she’d die Ip save.
/ That mother sought a pledge of love
| The noblest for her son ;
And from the gills of God above
She chose a goodly one—
She chose for her beloved boy.
The source of light, and love, and joy.
And bade him keep the gifl, that when
The parting hour should come.
They might have hope to meet again,
In an eternal home.
She said her faith in that would bo
Sweet incense to her memory.
And should the scoffer in his pride
Laugh that fond faith to scorn.
And bid him cast the pledge aside
That he from youth had borne.
She bade him pause and ask his breast,
If he, or she, hod loved him best.
A parent’s blessing or her son.
Goes with'this holy thing;
The love that would retain the one
Must to the other cling.
Remember! ’lis no idle toy—
A mother’s gift—Remember, boy.
Perils of Sea Diving.
IVe /iad a lerrible excitement cine day last
week, says n correspondent writing a private
letter home from one of the vessels of the
American expedition in Sebastopol harbor.
One of the divers, Harris, the English marine,
»first rate fellow, and bpld as a lion, went
dona exitming the outside of the ship on
which they were at work. He had been for
ward and was going aft, along the bottom,
in sixty feet of water, when he suddenly sig
nalled for more air, and though the pressure
».is instantly increased, two more signals for
■‘air," and to “come up,’’ followed in rapid
succe--ion, and then ceased all reply to sig
mils uiveji. Thinking the fault was in the
air pump,’ the speed was increased until a
pipe bursting near the engine showed hat the
tnisc was foul. They ihen sh -uied to ihe*
oilier doing parly, in a row bnat at a liitle
distance, to come to the rescue. That diver
was brmight up bv his lenders, anil ihey re.
commenced rowing for the steamer. Mean
while poor Harris made no more responses
in ihe anxious signaling of his tenders, and
they had itied m vain to haul him up—the
“Ilie-1 1 no” was also foul. The pump was
kept slowly in motion, but we knew that no
air was reaching him.
The row boat was coming as fast as possi
ble, but I thought it would never arrive. At
last ihey came alongside. The diver’s hel
met was closed, strong hands worked rapidly
end silently, and in an instant he was low
ered out of sight—the hose of his suffocating
companion in his hand ; there was an inter
val of two or three minutes of fearful sus
pense, in which no word was spoken by any
[of the score of men who gathered there,
save the whisper—“it must be too late.”—
Suddenly, a second colum of rising air bub
bles appeared. “The hose is cleared—he
has air,” several voices spoke eagerly. Then
followed the signal for rising, and up they
came, poor Harris all stark and motionless.
“Slop the pump, he is dead,” said one, un
screwing the eye-glass through which he saw
the ghastly countenance and frothy lips.—
But the cold air striking his livid face, the
eye lids half opened and closed again. “He
Is alive!” ihey all cried joyfully, and remov.
ing the helmet and dashing water on his head
and breasl, he presently began to breathe
perceptibly, nod af.er on hour’s diligent rub
bing from ns many strong and willing hands
as could get around him, he began to come
lo consciousness. He suffered great pain for
hours in the head and breast, but is now alto
gether recovered, and diving as usual.
On ihe whole, it was such an occurrence
85 1 hope may not hnppen here again ; that
lan inmules, in which we had the conscious-
ness I hat a tnah was dying for want of as
sistance which we could bv no means give,
1 cannot think of without k shudder. The
lose had got fast under a port-cover in such
1 "ay as to cut off the air suddenly and en
lrci- The life-line was fast on some old
raging down in the mud under ihe bottom
3 ' a ship, where he had crawled in his
-ea ous search after holes or injuries. He
n' eS n 10 co °lness nnd dexterity of
e olher diver, who providentially followed
e and cleared if before descending to
t us giving him air two minutes sooner
,' en , e could otherwise received it j and it
-time late enough.
L' V |' n;i c * ress ' s gntia percha or rub
r c oth, large and loose, in one piece, pants,
waistcoat and sleeves, into which the
jiV b rn m above by his lenders.
■ or h 5 heavy flannel drawers, &c.,
q* old| nary apparel.
bead T ' n, ° 'his ample casing, ihe
’an ill' .with a cb'se-filltng woolen
anil, P “ rf, a>t jJn fe nnd helmet of iron put
a f B ,lUer ' 0 tallow globe, much larger
ihrreloi n ' !l - ,n the head, and provided wnh
;vp *' U '’’■‘iows, grated apd glazed, called
,'i|' 'he front one is always open
j s n l w re r isin f’ upper part of ihe dress
?lai!7| S l * ,e hreaslplate, being
l,Hj„ '"een ns edge and a covering me.-
alioe I?' wn ' < 'h is then firmly screwed to its
IPO , • meana of a wrench, making thecnn
»•„(, ' n ""'er-iight. Heavy cowhide broeans
Ibiek l ' ea d ihree quarters of an inch
tt(,i c A 6lron f ! rubber wrings for the wrist,
•leaves i> ' eV j n,s a ' al «r from entering Ihe
•ome 4veml r llB g ’ rdle ; of shol > wei B hin fl
hie. Ts he V * P £lun<da i complete the at-
sheath ‘V. ied . rOUDd ,he wais, >
is starteri Dl^e ** aced ln hi* belt, the pump
ready , ' !f e ’ glnBs screwed in, and he is
fh'ed ii ru The dress being now
" sir, the shapeless body and limbs
THE AGITATOR.
ScboteO to tfic ZZxttnfiion of t|>e of iFmijom tfce SprcaO of Reform, j
WHILE THEBE SHALL BE A WRONG UNRIGHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN’S INHUMANITY TO HAS” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE,
vol. rv.
.of the monster swelling to a size fitting that
of his head, makes altogether a hideous fig
ure, which you are not. sorry lo.see .vanish
out of sight, wondering what son of recep
tion the mermaids will give him if he falls
in their way. The fish are not afraid of
them—ihey sometimes bring up a pocket
full.
The hose which supplies the pir is of gut
ta percha, of half-inch bore, and attached to
the helmet just at the bump of self-esteem. —
The escape-valve is below jt. The life-line,
by which signals are transmitted, is passed
through a loop on the right eye-glass,so that
the slightest motions are fell. He usually
descends pan of the way at least, on a rope
ladder, but is sometimes lowered by the life
line from the first. The pressure of air is
gradually increased as he goes lower, more
force being required, of course, to supply the
air. If the pump is worked by hand, it re
quires four men to lend it—two of them turn
ing at once, and frequently changing. Two
“tenders” stand by—one holding the hose,
and the other the life-line; the latter literally
holding the diver’s life in his hands, as anv
inattention to the signals frequently might
cause his death. Once on the bottom, or on
the ship, our merman walks about as else
where.
Our divers for months past have averaged
perhaps, four and a half hours under water,
and hard at work, per diem. They have
frequently, however, been down six, and even
eight houis, in water from thirty to sixty feel
deep Thev can descend one hundred and
fifty feel, but do not like lo work deeper than
one hundred feet—the increased pressure sen
sibly affecting the head at n greater depth.—
The large pay which divers receive, and the
extra accommodations which they hawe on
hoard here, made all ihe forecastle men anx
i..us In enlist when a recruit was required ;
but very many were obliged lo give it up on
a single Inal, while others, (like Harris,)
went regularly lo work from the first day.—
They ail have s'ale,rooms to sleep in, and a
place at the male’s table; and, for some of
them, who have always been sailors before
the mast, at ten or fifteen dollars per month,
with forecastle fare, the change, with triple
pay, makes quite a favorable turn of fortune.
Be a Whole Woman.
Young woman, you are entering upon the
voyage of life which is ! a pail of destiny.-
Before you, wide open, is the path of honor,
right and upright womanhood. You aro lo
become a wife—a mother—a counsellor—an
adviser—a friend. Duties more delicate than
others, because thep underlie all others, will
be devolved upon you. You must do your
part towards fashioning the character of a
generation, and shaping the destinies of a
Slate. To accomplish the task set for you,
you mnst be a whole woman. Aim lo instil
into every act of your life the noblest princi
ples of your sex, and stamp in burning let
lers upon your conduct the whole truths of
womanhood. Turn aside from the gilt and
gauze, and file meaningless butterfly display
of the world’s Vanity Fair. Shut your eyes
and stop your ears to the alluring forms and
tongues of vice. Be a whole woman. Learn
to sew, to wash, to cook, to bake, to read, to
talk, lo act. Give us the true lady, who is
not afraid to soil her hands by contact wilh
honest dough, nor twirl her finely moulded
arms in a pot of greasy water. Give us ihe
vyoman who knows, bow lo keep a house in
sVder, to make beds, to dust chairs. Lei her
be able lo shed the graces of intelligent con
versation around the pathway of her daily
life, and lo impart the energy, the vigor, the
honor, which shapes the impulse of her own
life, to all with whom she comes in contact.
Leave the feeble accomplishments of ihe un
meaning fashion to her who is made up of
silks and furbelows, big busiles and paper
soled shoes, whose powers of admiration are
excited only by carefully cultivated mustach
ios-, and whose sympathy is kindled only by
ihe last flashy, sensual'and foolish French
not>hl. Let them continue to weaken and
poison society, and become ihe moihers of
worthless and wicked sons. But ihe true
matrons of America are of another class.
Old Barly Willard was a wheelright by
trade, nnd though an excellent workman was
remarkable for his habit of procrastinating.
He would promise, and then break his en
gagement over and over again, with as little
scruple and as many “positive lasts” as a
theatrical star. Having pledged his word to
a very urgent customer for the third time,
that he would have his cart done by a certain
day, Barly again failed to keep his engage
ment, and, on the arrival of the owner, the
carl was still unfinished. “Well,” s.ttd the
customer, “you have got ttiv can done by
this lime of course.’* “Yes,” said Barly, “I
had done the work, and supposed it was quite
ready for you, when I discovered I had made
a mistake—a very unaccountable mistake—
that wit) pul me hack fora fortnight.” “Ah,
indeed,” said the customer, “what’s the
trouble V' “Why vou see I have made a
mistake—l never made such a blunder before
in ray life—l have committed the ridiculous
mistake of making both wheels for the same
side; they are both off wheels.” “Is it pos
sible 1" said the customer, who was thor
oughly mystified, and allowed Barry another
fortnight to finish the carl.
A drunkerd upon his desih-bed demanded
a glass of water before receiving divine con
solation, ‘-Upon one’s deaih.bfd,” he ob
served, “it is but right to be reconciled with
our mortal enemy I”
Why are lawyers like a lazy man in bed
in the morning 1
Ans. they lie first on one side,
and then turn over and lie on (be ofher.
WELLSBORO, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. APRIL t
O'Connell and the Irish Bank Crisis.
A run was being made for gold by the
peasantry of the surrounding counties; and
clouds of clamorous frieze-coats might be
seen pushing and fighting at the doors of oil
the banks in L . The Bank,
however (which has since proved itself to be
as solvent as any establishment in Ireland,)
enjoyed at that time the least confidence, and
was, of course, the more set upon. I had a
few of their one pound notes, though I be
lieved they were vtry good, if people would
only have faith in them, still, as I feared the
panic itself might bring about the catastrophe
it apprehended, and it was saut qui peat
everywhere, 1 thought it would only be pru
dent in me to save myself; so 1 mounted my
nag, and trotted with my bundle of notes
into L.
On arriving al the bank door, the Babel
o( mixed Irish and English was terrific. Men
and women tugged and struggled together for
precedence, and I couid hear the exclama
tions, “There, you have torn the coat off my
back making us much fuss about your dirty
thirty-shilling note, as if it were a pack loud
of ten-pounders you had.”
“Arrah, ye'll be all served," cried out a
droll fellow on the verge of the crowd.—
“Here’s the Counsellor coming, and a bag of
gold on his back.”
All looked in the direction the lasi speaker
poinied 10, and there, sure enough, I could
se,e approaching the burly figure of O’Con
nell, who was one *if ihe directors of the
bank, and had just arrived from Dublin. He
had not exactly a bag on his back but he
carried a parcel in his hand.
“Let me pass, my good friends,” said he,
“and you shall be served.” And he pushed
shoulder foremost through the crowd, who
made way for him, and gave three cheers for
the “Counsellor” as he passed.
The Liberator, as he was called, mighi
have been twenty minutes in the bank, when
a hurrah was raised from those who stood
nearest the bank door. “Didn’t I tell you,”
cried a fellow, crushing his way out, and
blowing with his breath to cool five hoi sov
ereigns which he held with difficulty in his
hand ; “Didn’t 1 tell you the Counsellor
would settle it? There they are at it hard
and fast as tallow chandlers on a melting
day, making sovereigns like wioky, and
they’re shovelling them out upon the counter
as hoi praiies from a pot,” and he blew again
upon the sovereigns and held them up to be
touched. Seeing and feeling was believing.
and there, sure enough, was the gold, warm,
as if from the crucible.
“Glory lo you, Dan!” shouted out the
crowd, who now really believed that Ihe
Counsellor was making sovereigns in 'he
bark parlor lo meei Ihe run. “What’s ihe
use of crushing ? you can’t break a bank,
whenlthey’re melting out money like that."
My icuriosiiy was at iis height, so, with
one trem-mdous effort, I gained admission,
and there, sure enough, were the clerks la
ding out burning hot sovereigns from copper
scoops to the people, who crowded to the
counter, and who, snapping and blowing iheir
fingers, were picking up the coins as you
might, roasted chestnuts.
They say the ruse was not a new one, and
that O’Connell revived it, in the case of the
Bank ; but it was not the less merri
torinus and successful on that account. The
clerks were really engaged in the back par
lor healing the sovereigns on fire shovels
over a large fire; and rushing qui with red
faces and in a furious hurry, they threw ihem
“hot, all hot,” to the cashiers, who counted
Ihem out with iron curling tongs to the cus
tomers, who believed that the work of coin
ing was going on over innumerable crucibles
in the back parlor. 1
The plan had a double advantage—it in
spired confidence, and made the process of
money-taking so slow on the part of the pub
lic, who were perpetually burning their fin
gers, that -the bank, with n very limited
supply, was able to meet a demand which,
under the circumstances, was necessarily
slow. The clerks could serve the people
as fast as the people could count the hot sov-
ereigns,
The ruse, which had almost instanlane
ous effect in allaying alarm, O’Connell main
tained was perfectly justifiable. From igno
rance, a panic, which might have proved
fa'al 10 the hank, arose and he thought he
had a right lo allay it by plaving on this
same popular ignorance. A bank that could
serve sovereigns at will frnm an oven, could
never, of course want gold, in the imagina
tion of a simple people.
A Rough Bedfellow. —There is a good
story going the rounds of ihe pnpers, told of
a man in Arkansas, who had been drinking
liil a late hour al night, and then started.for
home in a slate of sweet obliviousncss.
Upon reaching his own premises, ho was too
far gov to discover any door to the domi
cile he was wont to inhabit, and therefore
laid himself down in a shed which was a
favorite rendezvous for the hogs. They
happened to be out when the newcomer ar
rived, but soon returned to their bed. The
weather being rather cold, they, in the utmost
kindness, and with the truest hospitality, gave
their biped companion the middle of the bed,
some lying on either side of him, and others
acting Ihe part of quill. Their warmth pre
vented him from being injured by expo
sure. Towards morning he awoke. Find
ing himself comfortable, in blissful ignorance
of his whereabouts, he supposed himself en
joying the accommodation of a tavern in
company with other gentlemen. He reached
out fais hand, and catching hold of Ihe stiff
brussels of a hog, exclaimed : “Hallo my
gnodTr-iend, you've got a ■ »■ of a. beard !
When did you shat? lest ?”
Pons and Funning.
•Do you mean to say that the pun-question
is not clearly settled in your minds ? Let
me lay down the law upon the subject. Life
-and language are alike sacred. Homicide
and herbicide— that is, violent treatment of
word with fatal results to its legitimate mean
ing, which is its life—are alike forbidden.
Manslaughter, which is the meaning of the
one, is the same as man’s laughter, which is
the end of other. A pun is prima facie an
insult to the person you are talking with. It
implies utter indifference to or sublime con
tempt for his temarks, no matter how serious.
I speak of total depravity, and one says-all
that is written on the subject is deep raving,
1 have committed my self-respect by talking
with such a person. I should like to commit
him, but cannot, because he is a nuisance.
Or I speak of geological convulsions, and he
asks me what was the cosine of Noah’s ark ;
also whether the Deluge was not a great deal
huger than any modern innundation.
A pun does not commonly justify a blow
in return. But if a blow were given for such
cause, and death ensued, the jury would be
judges both of the facts nnd of the pun, nnd
mSghl, if ihe latter were of an aggravated
character, return the verdict of justifiable
homicide. Thus, in a case lately decided
before Miller, J., Doe presented Roe a sub
scription paper, and urged the claims of suf
fering humanity. Roe replied by asking,
When charily was like a lop? It was in
evidence that Doe preserved a dignified si
lence. Roe then said, “When it begins to
hum.” Doe then—and not till then—struck
Roe, nnd his bead happening to strike a bound
volume of the Monthly Rag-Bag and Stolen
Miscellany; intense mortification ensued, with
a fatal result. The chief laid down his no
tions of the law to his brother justices, who
unanimously replied, “Jest so.” The chief
rejoined, 'hat iio man should jest so without
being punished for it, and charged for the
prisoner, who was acquitted, nnd the pun
ordered lo be burned bv ihe sheriff. The
bound volume was forfeiied as a deodand,
but not claimed.
People who m ike puns are like wanton
boys that put coppers on the railroad tracks.
They amuse themselves and other children,
but their little trick may upset a freight train
of conversation for the sake of a battered
wpicism.
1 wish to refer lo two eminent authorities.
Now, be so good as lo listen. The great
morplisl says, “To 'rifle with the vocabulary
which is the vehicle of social inlercourse, is
lo tamper with the currency of human in
telligence, He who would violate ih« sanc
tifies of his mother tongue, would invade the
recesses of the paternal fill without remorse,
and repeat the banquet of Saturn without an
indigestion.”
And, once more, listen to the historian :
“The Puritans haled puns. The Bishops
were notoriously addicted to them. The
Lords Temporal carried them to the verge of
license. Majesty itself must have its Royal
quibble. ‘Ye be burly, my Lord of Bor
leigh,’ said Queen Elizabeth, ‘but ye shall
make less stir in our realm than our Lord of
Leicester.’ The gravest wisdom and the
highest breeding lent their sanction lo ihe
-practice. Lord Bacon playfully declared
himself a descendant of Og, ihe King of
Bushan. Sir Philip Sidney, with his last
breath, reproached the soldier, who brought
him water, for wasting a casque full upon a
dying man. A courtier, who saw Othello
performed at the Globe Theatre, remarked
that the blackamore was a brute, and not a
man ‘Thou hast reason,’ replied a great
Lord, ‘according lo Plato his saying; this be
a two-legged animal wiih feathers.’[ The
fatal habit became universal. The language
was corrupted. The infection spread lo ihe
national conscience. Polilical double-deal
ings naturally grew out of verbal doublc
meanings. The teeth of the new dragon
were sown by ihe Cadmus who introduced
the alphabet of equivocation. - What was
levity in the lime of Tudors, grew to regicide
and revolution in the age of Stuarts."
VVho was that boarder who just whispered
something about the Macaulay-flowers of
literature t There was a dead silence. I
said, calmly, I shall henceforth consider any
interruption by a pun as a hint to change mv
hoarding house. Do not plead my example.
If I have used any suchj it has been only as
n Spartan father would show up a drunken
Helot. We have done with them.— Atlantic
Monthly.
Recently, in one of the San Francisco
courts, a young ladv, his school teacher, was
prosecuted by the mother for severely welling
a young rascal’s back. The verdict of Ihe
■jury was in effect, “served him right.” We
give a portion of the bov’s testimony, the
wit of which atones for his rodeness : “I
asked her to do a sum for me, and she re
fused.” “What was the sum 1” asked the
counsel for the 1 defendant. “To substract
nine from twenty-eight.” “Could you not
do it “I suppose I could, but the arith
metic said I couldn't substract nine from
eight without borrowing ten, and I didn’t
know where to borrow it.”
“I tell you what, Julius, I had a monstrous
'spine wid massa dis morning, down in de
cotton patch.”
‘•You don't see so, C®sar; wat! 'spute
wid massa ?”
“Yes, I toll you for one hour, wa 'spute
togedder down in de cotton patch.”
“VVa, wa, wat you 'spute 'about J”
“Why, you see, Julius, massa coma down
da whar I wos a hoein.’ and massa he say
squash grow best on sandy ground, an’ I eay
so too; and dare we ’spute about it for mor’o
one hour.
9, 1858.
A Utile Bewitched; \
The popular idea seems to be tballthe long
eared tribe have been deprived of the power
of speech since the days of Balaam, but we
had this morning ocular and auricular proof
of the fallacy of this belief. As iWe were
coming down Broad street, we noticed a linle
this side of the Planter’s Hotel, ajcrowd col
lec'ed around the wagon of a countryman,
and we stepped up to leatn, if possible, the
cau«e of the excitement. | i
The wagon was drawn by a couple of
mules—one of them a rather bad! looking
specimen, who seemed to hail from| a region
where corn and oats wete rarities--—the other
decidedly better looking and giving unmis
lakeable evidence, we thought, of Having been
better fed. The wagon was loadtjd [with that
delightful esculent so popular in thejSou'h—
sweet potatoes. Prominent in me cirowd we
noticed a Mule black-eyed, gray haired man,
who was busily engaged when we came up
in negotiating a trade for one of the mules—
and strange to say for the poorest looking
one. ‘ -
•‘Now, my friend,” said the littlejrpan, ‘‘l
want this mule—l have a first-rate match for
him and want to make out the pair. How
old is he ■ r
‘■Five years, last spring,” promitjy replied
the countryman. j
“Golly ! what a lie !” tyjed the mule, prick
ing up his ears.
Country started—the crowd looked fright
ened—and one or two colored gehtfemen in
continently fled, as if the devil were of the
parly. i
“Who—who was that V asked the dealer
in potatoes at length, having somewhat recov
ered his voice and senses. ' j S
“Whv, me !” promptly responded the mule.
“What are you lying about! You k!now you
have had me over fifteen years.” i
“There, my friend,” said the little man,
“your mule contradicts you—and he ought
to know his own age.” | j
“I’ll be derned if I know what tolnllake of
you or the mule,” exclaimed the countryman,
“I know he’s only five years old, for 1 raised
him myself. ; !
“There, you lie again,” said ihe mole.
“Take that,’’ exclaimed ihe own
er, forgetting his fear for ihe moment, and
striking ihe poor animal over the paoutb.
“Don’t do that again,” said thei mule, “or
I’ll kick you.” i j
The countryman’s eyes almost popped out
of his head, and there Js no telling, what
would have been the result, had| not some
one arrived who recognized Ihe li'jtle man as
Signor Blitz, the well known magician and
venlriloquist—which explained ihe [mystery
and relieved the countryman.— Des
patch. | |
An Astonished ofi
our distinguished litterateurs, sinee:ihe break
ing out of the revival, was invited lo spend
the evening in a select company at the house
of a common friend. At the,appointed hour
our friend went, expecting to meetiajfew kin
dred spirits and to enjoy the delights of lite
rary and scientific conversation. |As he en
tered the room he thought he detected an air
of restraint and solemnity on the countenan
ces of those who had assembled, tfieieffecl of
which was not at all diminished] by one of
the number breaking the oppressive silence
with the remark: “1 see we have present
with us a distinguished literary geptleman,
and, I doubt nut all of us would jbe glad to
join him in a petition lo Ihe Throne of Grace.
-Let us pray.” At once every eye! was di
rected toward Ihe unfortunate gentleman,
who, although an eminently moral than, was
rather unaccustomed lo vocal And
while try ing to think of some courteous phrase
in which lo decline 'he unexpHciedliiiviiaiinn,
his embarrassment was heightened by seeing
the whole company kneel, as if-u a set
tled thing that he was lo lead in!prayer.—
Seeing the condition of things, no other al
ternative was left to him than to pray as best
he could, it is enough to say ibid the com
pany were edified, and that the vicyrfi is care
ful, before accepting an invitation ioja partv.
In ascertain whether he is expected to lead
in prayer.— N. Y. Post. | j
Sin, &c. —The Chicago poet truly says
that sin doesn’t always come dirjeqtly from
the devil A torpid slate of the fiver, or
those cold dumplings at bed have pro
voked the “old man” with his deeds, into
masterly activity. Many a time, inihe wick
ed is only to be billious, and to bejdtobolical,
is just to be dyspeptic. Many a pa|ieni has
sent for the wrong doctor, calling Corf a divine
when he simply needed a prescriptiotj ; think
ing he had failed in worship, whet) he had
(ailed in washing; bewailing an, impure heart
that he could not cleanse, and forgetting a
pair of hands, looking like a couple |of toads,
that he could. 1 I
Lucid Vehoict. —The following! very In.
cid verdict of a coroner's jury, wejfind in the
last Untonville (S. C.) Journal: i \
“State of South Carolina, Union -District:
Inquest held before me, J. Hamilton, Magis
trate, and twelve jurors, and Dr. |Rj. S. Gil
iman, over the body of a while infant child,
found floating in Tiger river, just below John
Thomas’ boat-landing, on the 23d day of
March, 185 S ; after a careful examination on
the 24th of March, the jurors rendered in the
verdict that ihe child came toils death by be
ing killed, nnd then thrown into theiriver.”
David Brown courted a lady |upsuccess
fully for many years, during which lime he
overy day drank her health; but being ob
served at last to omit the custom, la gentle
man said; “Come, David, yourlojd toast.”
“Excuse me. As 1 cannot make bar Broun i,
rn feist h*f* i :
Advertisements will be charged $1 per square of
fourteen lines, for one, or three Insertions, and 2j5
neats for every subsequent insertion. All advertise
ments of less than fonrteen lines considered as, a
equate. The following rates will be charged
Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Yearly advertising:—*,
3 months. 6 months. 12 mo’a
Square, (M lines,) - $2 50 $4 50 $5-d0
SSquares,. - . . 400 600 800
J column, 1000 1500 20 00'
column,-- . . . .18 00 30 00 40.00
All advertisements not having the number of In
sertions marked upon fae kept in anlil or
dered oat, and charged accordingly.
Posters, Handbills, Bill,and Letter Headland
kinds of Jobbing done in country establishment**
executed neatly and promptly. Justices*, ConslaT
bles’and other BLANKS,constantly on hand and
printed to order.
NO. X^XIX.
Last evening as we were walking leisurely
along, the music of choirs in three churches
came floating out into the darkness around
Us, and they were all new and strange tunes
hut nne ; and that one, it was not sung as we
have heard it, but it awakened a train of long
buried memories, that rose to us even as they
were before the cemetery of the soul had <t
tomb in it. It was sweet old “Corinth” they
were singing—strains that we have seldom
heard since the rose coloroflife was blanched ;
and we were in a moment back again to thb
nld church ; and i’ was a summer afternoon,
and yellow sunbeams were streaming through,
the west windows, and the silver hair of the
old deacon who sat in the pulpit, was turned
to gold in its light, and the minister, who we
used to think could never die, so good waa
he, had concluded “application” and “exhor
tation,” and the village choir were
the last hvmn, and the tune was “Corinth.”
It is years—we dare not think how many
since then—and the “prayers of David tho
son of Jesse,” are ended, and the choir are
scatterred and gone—the girl with blue
that sang alto, and the girl with black eyes
that sang air; the eyes of the nne were like
a clear June heaven at noon,. They both be
came wives, and both mothers; and they both
died. Who shall say they are not singing
“Corinth” still, where Sabbaths never wane
and congregations never break up? There
they sat Sabbath after Sabbath, by the square
column at the right of the “leader;” and to
our young ears their tones were the very soul
of music. That column bears still their pen
ciled names as they wrote them in those
days in life’s June, 183-, before dreams of
change had overcome,their spirits like a sum
mer’s cloud.
Alas, ihal with ihe old singers most of the
sweeter tunes have died upon the air I but
they linger in memory, and they shall yet be
sung in the sweet reunion of song that shall
take place by and by in a hall whose columns
are beams of morning light, whose ceiling is
pearl, whose floors are gold, and where hair
never turns silvery, and hearts never grow
old. Then she that sang alto and she that
sang air will be in their places once more.
How Nigh Mb. Cole came being Is.
sulted.— There lived in Smith county, Mis-,
sissippi, a man by the name of Cole, who had
employed an old, one-eyed, knock-kneed
Irishman, by the name of Lockridge, as a
school teacher. Lockridge was but a very
limited scholar, and a loose disciplinarian,
and «ithal had the weakness of his nation—
admiration of woman generally. Cole, with
"horn be boarded, had two daughters, and
Lockridge could not allow so favorable an
opportunity to puss unimproved, so he began
to breathe soft and wiching words into the
ears of the elder, and wished to marry her.
Cole soon found out what was going on, and
became exceedingly indignant. He told
Lockridge he must leave his house, ns he had
offered an insult to his family. Lockridge
saw that remonstrance was vain,so he began
to speak to Cole in the calmest manner, rather
denying, as decidedlv ns he could the impu
tation : “Mislher Cole, I have thought well
of ye, and Misther Cole, as to yer biggest
girl, she is, to be sure, a very large, Stout,
and good looking «ench, but she isn't quite
as nate a woman as meself would like to
call Mis'hress Lockridge. As for the youn
gest, Misther Cole, she is a slatternly, empty.
headed, ill-mannered and lazy thing, ihal
nohodv, tMisther Cole, could think well of.
And, Misther Cole, ef it was not that I’ve
always liked you as a gentleman, and would
not hurl your feehns, I*d tell ynu how mightv
mane yer wife was !’’ Lockridge left iho
neighborhood ; but. Cole always thought he
c-.irne very nigh insulting him the wav he
talked.
Why Mou.N-r.uxa auk Cold. —li is a cu.
rinus sciemitic fan ihai ihe aloms of air, as
we ascend, are at greater distances from each
other. If th<- distance between any two
.Toms is diminished, they give ou; heal, or
render i' sensible ; whereas if the dis'anee
heiween lliem be inercasi d, ihey store i away.
The tipper sliaia are sensibly eolder than
lhe lower, noi because ihe aloms have less
heal, but because llteh-ai is diffused through
a larger space when ihe atoms am funher
apart. One pound of air at ihe level of the
sea wiihin ihe irnpics, m.cv be said to contain
no more heal than ihe same weight at the
lop of ihe highest mountain, perpetually cov
ered with snow. Is ii for this reason that the
same wind which is warm in the valley, be
comes colder ns it ascends the sides of the
mountain, i'he diminishing pressure allows
ihe air 10 expand and store away its heat. It
is, therefore, not the' snow on the lop of the
mountains which cools the air, but it is ihe
rariiy of the air which keeps the snow ilself
from melting. As a general law, the de
crease of temperature amounts to one decree,
Fahrenheit, for every three hundred feel in
perpendicular height.
Dinisg Hours.—On Davy Crocket’s re
turn to constituents, after his first ses
sion in Congress, a nation of them surround
ed him one day and began to interrogate him
about Washington,
“What time do they dine at Washington,
Colonel ?” asked one.
“Why,” said he, “common people, such
as you are here, get their dinners at one o’-
clock, but the gentry and big ’uns dine at
three. As for representatives, we dine at
four, and the aristocracy and the Senate
don’t get theirs till five.’’
“Well, when does the President fodder?”
asked another.
“Old Hickory,” exclaimed the Colonel,
(attempting to appoint a lima in accord mca
with the dignitv of the s’atton,) ‘ Old Hie’*-
'■ uc!' pa J.-s-i’* •’! ft -1 gc . • ,>«y- v
Rates of Advcrtisinjs.
Tbe Old Village Church.