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The AGIT and stea dily increasing circulation
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the County.
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llodcd.^-^
the BONDMAID.
„ ,L. hnd-.cspc fall the shades of night,
r ji„ darkness all things fair and bright,
And one bv one the stars shine out on high,'
nitotr with glory all the Summer sky:
f. nLr heart there rests a deeper shade ;
r and not God, the darkness there has made,
■fir „f Hope illumes the gloomy night,
Hr „g the promise of a future bright;
Some of free men, and the and of brave,
Yields no protection to the helpless slave.
reach content, and oven thankfulness,
a d lell her she lias cause her lot to bless—
™ «he is ignorant, untrained, and poor,
Ml her life and fortune to secure;
if. tell her she is fair; 100 (veil she knows
tL; *i(l but fills the measure of her woes ;
Ynd the great power of thought—which were she
fcrholhst! richest heritage would be,
not her own, each talent that God gave
,slill her master’s, she a purchased slave.
fedora! the biller mockery of that word.
r„ Hose who all their life the name have heard,
Yet know and feci with agony of heart
[hat m its blessings they can have no part;
Yho while they sec the care of church and state
To make die while man prosperous and great,
reel ill the misery and degradation
VUlch slavery fastens on this boastful nation,
Worn. 1 die cry from east to western wave,
3al no redress, no justice for the slave.
Jblifel a precious blessing to the free
[Ye bondman finds no charm, no hope in thee ;
afcomy the future, as the dreary past,
[ibor and fellers, this year like the last.
Bel laid ranks and stations comes one hour,
frteijm and slavery bond beneath one power,
jjjok! to her the hour ihabendslhis strife
Moot be Death, but the first dawn of Life,
Life Everlasting, peace beyond the grave
Sleie there shall bo no master and no slave,
Virginia.
OP A KIGHT,
OR,
nit JEDEDUII lII’.OWX BECAME A TEETOTALER.
BY LOUIS N. BBEBICK.
liwascleien o’clock at night, and Je
aed.ili Brown had not yet returned to his
taw.
]i was a circumstance which raised in the.
mmd of Mrs. Brown mingled feelings of in
jignalion and surprise.
Among the menial qualities of ihe lady in
jjestioD, were an abundance of those gen
•nlire of termagancy, and she was not
inclined to allow any infringement of her
matrimonial rights with impunity. That she
rally entertained for her sterner half a deep
Ejection, lo say the least, all who are
anyways acquainted with the domestic affairs
a the Brown family, can truthfully attest.
Ml it is a mailer of universal recognition
sat Mrs. Brown had a very exalted idea of
her own merits, and was constantly endeav
:nng lo inspire her husband with a due sense
:f the priceless treasure he possessed in her!
In the language of a celebrated Roman—
liglit/y modified for present application :
N’ot that she lore d Jedediah less, but herself
lore.” \
Allowing the extreme view, that Mrs.
hown took in regard to the course of con
loci pursued by Air. Brown lo be the true
ice that individual was deserving of the
trongest censure.
The impatient lady sal before the cheferfui
ti'e m the little parlor, the sharp outlines
! < her features fully exposed by ihe ascend
og 3ames, deeply ruminating upon the sub-
Wother woes. Presently she arose and
eitedwith malignant grasp the unoffending
fiercely attacked the glowing
it would seem that she stirred up at
“Osame time her anger, for its flames burst
3Ssiona(£]y forth.
Its 100 bad!” she exclaimed aloud, “it’s
» aad— a's really abominable, that Jedediah
Md so far forget himself, and me as to act
atrocious manner.”
glanced at the clock, and then sealing
continued :
Tins is— let me see —three, four limes, as
a mug soul that he has similarly oul
dth'i k e '' n?s ' v ''hiu a single month ;
,j. en he has the audacity to excuse him
uJ°jl '* le "found of ‘political excitement.’
should just like to know what reasons
" bc f° r a man to make a beast of
J! ecaus o a new President is to be
a| ea soon.”
° su Ppf crr| ent to the question, she
etpin/ 0 " unconsc ' ous cat who was
on ! /t e corner of the hearth, such a
i“' ar > °ok as must have thrilled that
"test h Wll * l feelings of the in
jd o r d otror ’,' vere ' ts faculties of the hu
or i and it mot the gaze of its mis-
V..J? 01 ? 0 ' n S '0 allow ibis slate of
: i e c of , J on ger! I’H leach him that the
! peci' S |.° SOm ' s entitled to a little more
Jiliame !| S 1 sbarno — a hurtling, everlast
jeven | ' ' ,at be s ,hould leave me to spend
,ev Ehrnf S - nc 6' c^te h, and alone, while he
e ln scenes of wickedness and
‘•i’ll no S . nC S . ia,t <--d 10 her feet.
Kif his ait Por b ' m ano, her minute ; no,
■co j| ~;; e an <l future happiness depend
I,; sd(] J "go to bed!”
; f onic( e V° f lbe veracity of the lady to
° aCI tbal ber ass edion was not
41! ° bed^' 11 * 1 rown ,o °k a lump and
P ai'nfji l ,
!ts °aic«h bccn an hour, it might have
his r Ps ,j U ,I)ore > when Brown approach
-101,e- did not, however,
° ’hat -dinn r°°l’ afler turn ' n S die corner,
ei ? c,c rizt!d 1 IC ° sla,e hncss that usually
ls mini i i" m ' nor did he reach it as
,e *sel hea,,„ 3Vc been expected ; for. like
;i mc s run °. lo windward, he lacked sev
i:e ' a ad ( " rnm curb- stone to cutb
i'P' of >»“ oace being seriously in
he was 1"° \ lmselfin ’ho gutter.
r 'P anchor a ' enou gh to make port
r on lus own doorstep.
YOL. Y.
For Tho Agitator.
Truth compels us to admit, however re
luctantly, that Brown was—drunk !
As he sat upon the lower step, his head
sunk upon his bosom, his badly damaged
hat crowded over his brows, his neckcloth
askew, with a knot in a position under his
left ear, rathef suggestive of a murderer’s
fate, and his entire outward appearance'in
dicative of an utter regardlessness as to his
entire personal aspect, or anything else per
taining to this terrestrial sphere, a moral re
form lecturer would have gone into eostacies
at the thought of possessing such a subject
to exhibit before an appreciative audience as
an unique specimen of total depravity.
Whether Jedediah Brown, at that precise
moment, had a realizing sense of his true
condition, it is uncertain the air was keenly
cold, and it may have been that which moved
him. Certain it is, that he appeared at length
to come to the conclusion that justice to his
own self demanded that he should find some
more attractive quarters.
Accordingly, he assumed as erect an atti
tude as possible, and, by a marvelous stroke
of good fortune, succeeded in reaching and
grasping the doorknob.
Then from his pocket he procured a latch
key, and set about effecting an entrance.
To form a determination to do a thing,
and to effect the “consummation devoutly
to be wished,” are two distinct affairs. So
Jedediah Brown discovered on this occasion.
The door was large, and the key-hole was
small ; the night withal, was not one of the
lightest.
“This is a sing’lar thing,” muttered Je
dediah, in a very thick tone of voice, and
with exceedingly long intervals between some
of his words, “this is a dreadful singular
thing : I think, I really do think, that on the
whole, its about the most sing’lar thing that
ever I knew, where the key hole has gone
and hid itself. I know 1 left it here when I
went away, I am sure I did—and now where
is it!’’
He ceased from his endeavors to find Ihe
missing orifice for a few moments, as if
the last sentence he utiered had awakened
weighty thoughts in his mind. Then he
made another futile attempt to discover it.
“Its gone, sure,” he said ; “the key-hole
ain’t there. P’rhaps somebody’s stole it—
it was a brass Trey.hole, and somebody may
have 109 k it for gold and stole it. Gr else,”
he mused, as a faint idea of a wrong pdrpe
traled against him on the part of his wife
crossed his confused roind, “or else she’s
took it inside to keep me out; shouldn’t
wonder at all,”
Concluding lo make one more effort, he
this lime succeeded in finding what he had
searched for so long.
“Well, well!” he uttered, “this is a go;
the key-hole was there all the while. | Jede
diah Brown, if you wasn’t such a respecta
ble person as I know you to be, I should be
tempted to say you wore drunk I”
He entered and after stumbling over a hall
table and oversetting the hat stand, he man
aged to grab hold ol the stair banisters.
Then, with a fresh exertion, he gained the
parlor doors.
The fire was still burning bright in the
grate, and Jedediah Brown thought it flick-
ered up reproachfully as he advanced into
the room. So he turned hta. back to the
blaze, and steadied himself with a chairback.
Happening to raise his eyes, he was as
tonished to behold a man at the further ex
tremity of the apartment. The thought of
thieves at once entered his mind.
“Who’re you, I say ?” cried Jedediah, in
a louder key.
Still the importuned said not a word.
“Now, look here, you vill’nous, thieving,
ugly-looking scoun’rel, if you don’t answer
my question, I’ll sacrifice you, I will. Do
you hear! What business have you in my
house at this lime o’ the night?”
As the last inquiry elicited no reply, Jede
diah, moved by his rising passion, without
further expostulation, seized a footstool, and
employed all his strength in the effort, he
fired it at the head of the fancied burglar.
The tremendous crash of hroke'n glass
which followed, awakened the deluded man
to the important fact that he had shivered
into fragments his wife’s costliest mirror, and
that the imaginary thief was simply its re
flection of himself.
Before he had lime, however, to make
many reflections upon the matter, he was
startled by the cry of “Thieves ! Murder !
Police!” and a variety of other frantic
screams in the shrill voice of his wife, who,
awakened suddenly by the noise, had arose
and thrust her head from the bed room win
dow overhead.
“Police! police! help!”
Again it rang out upon the still night air.
“What’s the muss I” cried a vigilant guar
dian of the public safety, as he.made his ap
pearance.
“Burglars!” screamed the lady in while
hysterically.
“Where?”
“Below in the parlor—l hear them now,
help, qu^ck!”
“Another policeman at this moment ar.
riving, the door was forced open, and two
entered.
Mr. Jedediah Brown, becoming alarmed
at the manifestation he heard, was reeling
towards the door.
“Ha, here he is !” cried one of the officers
triumphanlly.
“Nab him!” exclaimed the other.
“Why, blow me if he ain’t drunk. He’s
been below among the wine.”
“Stand off!” cried Brown, assuming whal
he intended should be a dignified altitude.
“Stand off! Do you take me for a thief?”
“Well, now, I shouldn't wonder at ail,”
said a policeman number one, in aa ironical
THE AGITATOR.
to tf)t BSxttnoion of tt»o of iPmftow atiiJ tfje SjjccaiJ of f2?ealt6g i&tfotrm* i;
WHILE THERE SHALL BE A WRONG UNRIGHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAH*’ SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE,
WELLSBORO, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. SEPTEMBER 9, 1858.
tone, “if we did ‘take’ you for a thief—as
far as the station house at any rate."
“What’s that ? arrest me in my own house
—drag me from the bosom of my family V’
“It won’t do, old feller; you must come
along with us.”
“Never ! I say never—no never!”
“Have you caught the monster? Where
is he?” cried the trembling voice of Mrs.
Brown as that courageous female made her
appearance on the stairs, and peered over the
banisters into the room.
“It’s ail right, ma’am” said the officer;
“he’s safe enough now.”
Just then her eyes fell on her husband,
and from him they glanced around the room
till they rested on the ruined mirror. She
comprehended at once what had occurred,
and the direct indignation against the unlucky
Jedediah arose within her breast.
She was about to vent her wrath against
him, when a brilliant thought struck her.
She would not recognize him ! The officers
believed him to be a burglar, and she wauld
not undeceive them. It would be a gloxious
revenge.
“What a horrid looking man he is!” she
uttered, in a tone of apparent alarm. “Hold
him light, don’t let him gel away.”
“He is rather a hard ’un, that’s a fact,”
replied the officer, “but don’t be frightened,
ma’am Jie can’t escape.”
“What a blessed thing it was you came as
you did. I wouldn’t have had him found
me for the world. What should I have done
if he had ?”
Jedediah gazed at his wife wi h open
amazement pictured upon his countenance.
He became a little sobered by what had
transpired, and was sensible enough to wish
himself well out of the embarrassing position
he was in.
“Why, the horrid wretch, he knows my
name I” screamed the lady.
“Know your name ! Well, I rather think
I’d ought to know your name, seeing as how
I gave it to you.”
“Oh, you wretched man.”
“Now, look-a-here, Mrs. Brown, don’t
come it 100 strong ; don’t pretend that you
don’t know who I am.”
“How should I know? Thank goodness,
I don’t keep company with such as you.”
“Ain’t I your husband
“Oh, lake him away, do—the scandalous
creature.”
“Come,” said the officers, grasping him,
by either arm, “you can’t remain here any
longer; come along.”
The injured Browp resisted this-appeal as
well as he was able.
“I tell you you’re wrong!” he cried,
grasping ihe door wilh both hands.
“Oh, of course we're wrong—of course
we are; but never you mind, and come
along with us, and it will be all right.”
“Bui this is my house, I say, and that is
my wife and she knows it.”
The officers, however, were not inclined
to credit his words, and insisted more strongly
than ever that he should accompany them.
But only by carrying him bodily along could
he be removed.
“Tell’m they’re mistaken in the man,”
implored Jedediah, appealing to his wife
when he found that he could not otherwise
convince them of the truth. “Tell ’em who
1 am and they’ll let me go.”
Gut the good lady only shrunk back, and
uttered a small scream, as if shocked at what
she heard.
The rage of her husband was redoubled
by this act of perfidiousness.
“Woman!” he vociferated, turning a last
look upon her as she stepped upon the stairs,
“beware what you do, don’t trifle with a des
perate man ! Speak to these men or your
doom is sealed, “You won’t? Very well ;
the consequences be upon your own head.
I'll have a divorce—l’ll separate from you ;
yes, madam, and I’ll take the children ! Do
you hoar that, Mrs. Brown ? I’ll lake the
children to myself, and leave you a ruined,
destitute, wretched, heart-broken female be
ing!”
It didn’t occur to the infuriated Brown just
then that he had no children. He had ever
cherished strong hopes, however, of having
an infinite number of those useful household
ornaments, and his ideas were not as clear,
by any means, as usual.
Before he could utter more, he was upon
the sidewalk, and the door of the house was
closed and fastened. Mr. Brown, upon his
arrival at the station house, was thrust ig
nominiously into one of the dark cells, and
left to meditate at his leisure up on his hu
miliating position.
When, ihejjnext morning, Mr. Jedediah
Brown made ms appearance before the ma
gistrate, escorted by his captor of the night
previous, he presented an aspect truly deplo
rable. He was not the Jedediah Brown of
former limes, and it would have puzzled his
nearest friends to recognize him. The work
ing of his mind, and the liquor he had drank,
had left him in a miserable plight.
The justice, pulling on his severest frown,
inquired into the particulars of his case.
Turning to the prisoner, he said.
“So you were caught in the act, were you ?
Well, burglary is a serious matter, as you’ll
find out. What is your name ?”
“Brown,” replied Jedediah ; “but there is
a mistake.”
“Brown, eh ?” interrupted the justice;
“well the name’s against you; there have
been four'een burglaries, not to speak of
other crimes, committed in this district by
men of that name within the present month.”
“But I’m an innocent person ; it was in
my own house they; arrested me.”
“Everybody is innocent that’s brought
here, of course! But we’ll soon see how
you stand. Where! is the complainant in
tKlr case?”
At this moment a lady entered.
“There she is,” said the policeman.
The prisoner looked up, and met the eyes
of his wife.
“What iiave you to-say in regard to this
man, madam ?” asked the judge.
Mrs, Brown did not immediately reply.
She looked for a moment longer imo the face
of her husband, as if astonished and bewil
dered, and then she exclaimed :
“Why, can it. be possible? Is it, then,
really you,'Jedediah ?”
Then addressing the magistrate, she con
tinned:
“I find that it is only my husband, and
have no complaint’to make. But it was so
late when he came home last night, and he
was so disguised, that I was unable to rec
ognize him. -
Jedediah Brown said not a word. He
knew full well how the matter stood, and he
felt not a lilile shame for the ridiculous part
he had enacted. He retired with his wife,-
very passively, vowing in his own mind
never to be caught in alike scrape again.
And that is how he became a teetotaler !
Tombs, of the English Kings.
The correspondent of the iV. Y. Chronicle,
writing from London, describes his visit to
Westminister Abbey, and reflects, with a
great deal of truth, as well as republican se
verity, upon the vices and follies of royalty.
“The walls of the cloisters, the aisles and
the chapels of the cathedral, are everywhere
crowded with inscriptions and monuments of
the illustrious dead. For nearly a thousand
years this has been the final resting place of
England’s statesmen, warriors, authors, di
vines, nobles and kings. Here the nation's
monarch’s have been crowned and here they
have been buried. The very chair in which
Edward the Confessor receiued his scepter,
and the rude block of unhewn granite on
which the kings of Scotland were invested
with power, stand here as they have stood
for centuries. More than twenty are known
to have been crowned in this rough old oak
en chair, from the founder of the Abbey
down to the little delicate woman who now
sits so quietly on the British throne.
It is among the tombs of the kings that
the ostentatious pomps of this world are bro’l
into most striking contrast with the solemni
ties of the next. Here is perpetual winter;
here the cold hand of death keeps down re
bellious spirits, who, while living, brooked
no supremacy ; here rivals in life are broth
ers in the grave; here the heartless Elizabeth
sleeps side by side with Mary her victim.
“Drop upon Fox'd tomb a tear.
Twice trickle to his rival’s bier.”
“What now, to these royal skeletons, and
mouldering ministers of state, are all these
solemn mockeries ; the cold stone; the gild
ed effigy ; the statue of eloquence wilh dumb
lips; fame blowing a noiseless trnmpet; a
pair of broken-winged, blubbering marble
cherubs, and the truth-concealing epitaph !
“After all; was it fur this, that the dust be
low us kept the world so long in such a
pother?—Tell us, Buckingham and Cecil,
and Richmond and Villiers—and you, dukes,
princes, bishops, generals, courtiers, was it
merely for six square feel in this well-propor
tioned-bone-house that you toiled and in
trigued, and flattered and fought? And you,
Tudors, Stuarts, and Plantagenets, were the
“wars of the Roses,’’ and the long and bloody
feuds between you all merely for the honor of
rotting in a royal tomb? And you, heartless
old woman, down below—‘whom lying cus
tom has styled “good Queen Bess,” —was it
only to moulder in the next cellar, and be
eaten by neighbor worms, that you impris
oned and persecuted, and finally murdered,
that poor sister Mary of yours ? No answer ?
Ah, well 1 Sleep on quietly, old bones 1—
Nobody cares to “torment” you “before the
time.” What is left of you is no belter than
common plebeian earth. The dead beggar at
St. Giles can answer questions quite as well
as you, ye marble coffined carbonates of
dukes, and phosphates of queens and kings 1”
The Long Path. —The Autocrat of the
Breakfast Table is in a happy vein this
month, and wilh reason. He proposed to
the sweet young school mistress, and was ac
cepted 1 It was done on Boston Common,
thus: .
“It was on the Common that we were
walking. The mall or boulevard of our
Common, you know, has various branches
leading from it in various directions. One
of these runs downward from opposite Jay
street southward across the whole length of
the Common to Boyleston St. VVe called it
the long path, and were fond of it.
I fell very weak indeed, (though of a tol
erably robust habit) as we came opposite the
head of this path on that morning. 1 think
I tried lb speak twice without making myself
distinctly audible. At last I got out the ques
tion, “Will you take the long path wilh me?”
“Certainly,” said the school mistress “with
much pleasure.” “Think,” I said “before
you answer ; if you take the long path with
me now, 1 shall interpret it that we are to
part no more !” The school mistress stepped
back with a sudden movement as if an arrow
had struck her. .
One of the long granite blocks used as
scats was hard by, the one you may still see
close by the Ginkotree. “Pray, sit down, I
said. No, no, she answered softly, I will
walk the long path with you !’’
The old gentleman who sits opposite met
us walking, arm in arm, about the middle of
the long path, and said, very charmingly,
“Good morning, my dears.”
“Boy where does this road, go to?”—“I
don’t think it goes anywhere. I always see
urn here every^ morning.’’
THE DEACON'S MASTERPIECj
OB THE WONDERFUL 4r ONE HOSS SF
BY OLIVES W EM) ALL HOLMES.
Have you heard of Ihe wonderful one-hoss
That was built in such a logical way
It ran a hundred years to a day.
And then of a sudden, ah, but stay,
2*ll tell you what happened without delay;
Scaring the parson into fits,
Frightening the people out of their wits,—
Have you ever heard of that, I say 7
Seventeen hundred and fifty.five,
Georgius Secundus was then alive,—
Snuffy old drone from the German hive 1
That was the year when Lisbon town
Saw the earth open and gulp her down.
And Braddock’a army was done so brown.
Led without a scalp to Us crown.
It was on the terrible Earthquake day j [
That the Deacon finished the une.horse
Now in building of chaises, I*ll tell you what.
There is always somewhere a weakest spot,-|-[
In bub, tire, felloe, in spting or thill, | j
In panel, or crossbar, or floor, or sill, I i
la screw, boll, thoroughbrace,—lurking still|
Find it somewhere you must and will,— j •
Above or below, or within or without,— \
And that is the reason, beyond a doubt, | ;
A chaise breaks down but doesn't wear out, } 1
But tho Deacon swore (as Deacons do
With an “I dew vara” or an “I (ell yeou,**)
He would build one shay to beat the taown
V the kcounly V all the kenlry raoun*;
It should be so built that it couldn* break di
—“Fur,” said the Deacon, “*t*s mighty plain
That the weokes’ place inns’ stan* the strait
’a 1 the way t’ fix it, uz I maintain,
la only jest
To make that place uz strong uz the rest.”
So the Deacon inquired of the village folk.
Where he could find the strongest oak.
That couldn’t be split nor bent nor broke,—
That was for spokes and floor and sills;
He sent for lanccwood to make the thills;
The crosrbars were ash, from the struightesi
The panels of whilewood, that cuts like che
But lasts like iron for things like these;
The hubs of logs from the “Settler’s Ellum,*
Last of its limber, —they couldn’t sell 'em,-
Never an axe had seen their chips,
And the wedges flew from between their lip
Their blunt ends frizzled like celery tips;
Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw.
Spring; tire, axle, And linchpin too,
Steel of the finest, bright and blue;
Thoroughbrace bison skin, thick and widb*;!
Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide j
Found in the pit when the tanner died. '
That was the way lie “put her through.”—
“There I” said the Deacon, “naow she’ll dew
Do! I tell you, I rather guess
She was a wonder, and nothing less !
Colts grew horses, beards turned gray.
Deacon and Deaconesses dropped away.
Children and grand-children—where were ll
But there stood the stout old one boss shay
As fresh as on Lisbon earthquake day!
Eighteen hundred ; —it came and found
The Deacon’s masterpiece strong*and sound.
Eighteen hundred increased by ten?—'
"Hansum kerridge” they called it then.
Eighteen hundred and twenty came;—
Running-as usual; much the same.
Thirty and forty at last arrive,
And then carnc fifty und fifty-five.
Little of all we value here ;
Wakes on the morn of its hundreth year I
Without both feeling and looking queer. |
In fact, there’s nothing that keeps its youth, ;
So far as I know, but a tree and truth. \ {
(This is a mural that runs at large; . j ■'
Take it.—You’re welcome.—No extra charge.)
First of NovEUDEa.—the earthquake day.—'
There arc traces of age in the onc-hoss-shay( \
A general flavor of mild decay, J 1
But nothing local as one may say. j |
There couldn’t be—for the Deacon’s art I '
Had made it so like in every part ! |
That there wasn’t a chance throne to start, j f
For the wheels were just us strong as the tfiiljg,
And the floor was just as strong as the sills,, • |
And the panels just as strong as the floor, ;
And the whipplelrce neither less nor more, ;
And the back cross-bar as strong as the fore, i
And spring and axle and hub encore. '
And yet, as a whole, it is past a doubt j f
In another hour it will be worn out! ; i
First of November,’fifty-five t ‘
This morning the deacon takes a drive,
Now, smalt boys, get out of the way i , [ -
Here comes the wonderful onc-hoss shay, I I
Drawn by a rat tailed, ewe-necked bay. ‘ |
“Huddup," said the parson.— Off went they, i
The parson was working his Snnday’a text,—|
Had gut a fifthly, and slopped perplexed . j
At what the—Moses —was coming next. :
AH at once the horse stood still, I -
Close by the mcel’n’-housc on the hill. j
—First a shiver, and then a thrill, j
Then something decidedly like a spill,— !
And the parson was sitting upon a rock, \
At half-past nine by the meet'n’-liousc clock, —‘
Just the hour of the earthquake shock! : ,
—What do you think the parson found, i
When he got up and stared around ? ;
Ttie poor old chaise in a heap or mound, 1
As if it had been to the mill and ground t ;
You-sec, of course, if you’re not a dunce, I
How it went to pieces alt at once, — }
All at once, and nothing first, — i
Just as bubbles do when they burst
End of the wonderful onc-hoss shay.
Logic is logic. Thai’s all X say.
[Atlantic Monthly.
Somebody's Dead. —There is black crape
on that door ; somebody’s dead. Yes, lyith
in has fallen another chip from the block' of
humanity, and the axe-man Deatlfi is swing
ing his weapon for another blow. There !
the bell is tolling, somebody’s dead ; slow;roll
the sounds, and how they icsound, reaching
clear into the heart of the thoughtful! t The
coffin maker is fixing a coffin : somebody’s
dead. That beautifully polished box jrpust
soon moulder and rot; the worm will crawl
over it—worms, (he only witnesses of ,riior-.
tality drooping away, departing from shape
and suhs'ance. There goes the hearse;
somebody’s dead ; all the lime mankind Uue
dying ; and earth is our producer antPcon
sumer, and will tie no crape upon her <|oor
and wear no black in mourning for ourillpss.
While we are dying she smiles and ladghs
and dances on in her perpetual joy. ' ]
“Fellow Citizens !” said a North Caro
lina candidate, “I am a Democrat, and never
was anything else. There are three topics
that now agitato the Slate: the Banklthe
Tariff and the Penitentiary. I shall I pass
over the first two very briefly, as my senti
ments are well known, and come to jheSPen
ileutiary, where I shall dud! some time /”
Rates of AdycrUsins-
Advertisements will be charged SI per square of
fourteen lines. Tor one, or three insertions, and 55
cents tor every subsequent insertion. All advertise*
Hicnls dr less than fourteen lines •
squaie. The following rates will bo charged to*
Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Yearly advertising :~
3 months. 6 months. 13 mo’*
: ‘Square, (14 lines,) -$3 50 $4 50 96 Ot
SSquarcs,- .. .4 00 600 800
J column, - ... 1000 1500 30 00
column,. ; . .18 00 30 00 - 40 00
All advertisements not having the number of In*
sertions marked upon them, will be kept in until or
dered out, and charged accordingly.
Posters, Handbills, Bill,and Letter Head*,and all
kinds of Jabbing done in country establishments,
executed neatly and promptly. Justices’, Consta
bles’and other BLANKS, constantly on band and
printed to order.
NO, 6.
Telegraphic Instnuneats.
it
HAY.
As the electricians are supposed to be ex
perimenting at Trinity Bay and Vulentia,
with the various recording instruments in use,
it is of interest to knowjwhat are the chief
differences between them!
* The Morse Instrument, in common' use
from the first in this country, transmits
messages by the alternate breaking nod re
connecting of Ihe electric current. The cur
rent allowed to flow a moment produces a
dot, if a little longer a line. The operator
laps on a single key, and the messages are
recorded by an alphabet .composed of a com
bination of lines and dots, thus :
3hay, 1
r
In the hands of an expert, the speed of this
instrument is about twenty words a minute.
The Cook and Wheatstone instrument is
the one that, until lately, has been generally
q#ed in England. A needle on a dial plate
revolves, pointing out the letters, which are
insetibed around the circumference like the
hours of a clock. This is a
much more intelligible process to outsiders,
but it is slow, accomplishing, at the fastest,
only about fourteen words a minute.
The House Instrument prints the message
in Roman capitals on a long stiip of paper,
by the revolution of a type wheel, the opera
tor playing on a key-board like that of a
piano, with a key for each letter. The prin
ting is done by clock-work, the use of the
electric current being to preserve equal time
so that the letters of one machine may cor
respond to those of the'other. This instru
ment prints twenty-five to thirty words a
minute.
mwn
i r Pv
I trees;
; Jee,
The Hughes Instrument is a combination
of theMorse'and House inventions. In the
Morse Instrument, two or three pulsations of
the electric current are required to indicate
one letter. In the House Instrument, it re
quires from one to twenty-eight pulsations.—
In the Hughes Instrument, it requires but a
single pulsation for each letter. The me
chanism by which this is accomplished is
simple, though the principle on which it is
pased is complex. The type wheels at the
respective stations revolve to print lire mes
sage, and Their revolutions are governed by
vibrating springs. These springs cause them
to revolve in exactly the same time, There
is an acoustig principle involved, viz: that
two springs which give the same musical
tone while vibrating, vibrate the same number
of times per second. The springs are there
fore chosen and regulated by sound. Thi*
instrument, it is evident, economises both
time and elecric power. Its exceeding sen
sitiveness to the least perceptible pulsation of
the electric, current adapts it especially for
long lines and submarine cables. It is cn
pable of writing forty words a minute with
about one-tenth the battery power of other
instrument, anti sends messagesiboth ways at
oncel At least, so its inventor claims, and it
is to Bo tested on the Atlantic cable.—Al
bany Eve. Jour.
The N. Y. Express louches, in an inimi
table manner, a very delicate subject in the
following paragraphs. They should be read
and pondered upon by all classes of readers:
“Our young men are a painful study. As
they lounge about the streets with bold, leer
ing faces, poisoning the air with oaths, or
whirl madly along, behind lashed horses, or
loom up dimly amid the smoky glare of haunts
of folly, sin and shame, it is sickening to think
that with them rests the future of the coun
try, and in ihenv lies its hope. It is no won
der that the hearts of fathers and mothers
and sisters are filled with dread and grief.—
No wonder that the perpetual and earnest ad
vice to the young man is to go into “ladies’
society.” The advice is good. There is
positively safely for him in the society of a
modest, gentle, kindly-and sensible girl.—
There is comparative safety for him in the
company of a vain, giggling, It tiling girl.—
“The most empty-headed and empty-hearted
of coquettes, is a more harmless companion
for him than a cursing, tippling fellow, who
thinks mainly of all manner of silliness and
sin, and will travel fast, although hell yawns
at the end of the road. Yes, your young
man’s salvation is in the sweet smile and
voice, the beautiful graces and accomplish
ments of some fair creature, attractive alike
in mind and body. But your young man
dare not go and see a young woman he fan
cies, and make a friend and companion of
her. VVill not all the Mrs. Grundies think
and say that it means something, and imme
diately and vigorously set to work to whimper
their suspicions loud enough (or the world—
including the respective families of the young
persons —to hear them? Is not your young
man a flirt, a desperate fellow, in whom there
is Hanger, if be is known to go and see a
half a dozen girls : at the same time? [las
not this fine propriety which pervades our
modern life, something to do with the terrible
outlawry and viciousness of the young men ?
Has not rigid, ghastly etiquette driven them
from the parlor to the rum shop and worse ?
In the days when some of us were boys and
girls, it was not a proof that two young peo
ple were engaged to be married, that they
were often together, happy in the interchange
of interest and sympathy and all kindly feel-'
ing. And somehow there were better boys
than there are now ; and'girls, 100, for that
mailer.”
During n't) examination, a medical student
being asked the question, “When does mor.
lification ensuereplied. “When you pop
the question and are answered ’No.”
He who turns sp\ for pleasure would not
stickle tu he hangman (or husitussi.
• O i
The Young Hen.