Xems of PnfelicaUon.
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Business Cards, not exceeding 5 lines, paper in
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For the Agitator.
TO E. M.
I'm gazing on tho moon to-night.
Foil many a mile away
From where I’ve stood with thee, dear friend,
To watch its glimmering ray.
For I have left the city’e streets,
In other paths to roam;
Mid trees, and flowers, and murmuring brooks,
I now will find my home, ,
The moon’s bright rays are atffl the same,
As on that happy eve, ;5
When we together watched its light
Mid clouds, fantastic, weave.
Strange forms in yon bine fields of space,
Which ever shilling fled,
Like hopee, which I have cherished long,
But now to find tliem dead.
No more I stand as then I stood,
A free and careless child;
For we were both but children then,
innocent and wild.
What-cared we then for life’s cold cares—
For cares that were not known ?
Ah, wlial was then the world to us?—
A path with roses strewn.
Bot now, alas, the thorns appear
To wound the tender heart:
The first great grief we ever knew,
The fate that bade us part.
But lime has passed and left, his mark.
And now I feel that life.
To me must henceforth be a field
Of constant, earnest strife.
Delmar, Sept. L
The Lost Child.
Many years ago, there occurred in Obion
county, Tennessee, one of the most thrilling
domestic tragedies which move to tears by
the pathos of their mournful details. A
farmer named Riley, who lived near the al
luvial bottom which borders the Obion river,
had an only child, a daughter, some six or
seven years old. Little Ella was the darling
of her parents, and a favorite with all who
knew her. To great beauty of person and
sprightliness of manner, she added an un
common share of the win Some graces of
childhood. Her merry prattle and ringing
laughter were like the cadences of a sweet
song echoing through the home and the hearts
of her parents.
Having no companion in her sports, her
playground was limited to a small area imme
diately around the family mansion. There,
busy as a bed, she romped and sported,;com
muning with nature and herself in the thou
sand unnamed and unnamable ways which'
the beneficence of Providence has provided \
for the amusement and instruction of childten.
Her prolonged absences from the house, being
almost dally, were consequently seldom no
ticed.
One afternoon, in mid winter, she was ob
served, immediately afier dinner, to take her
bonnet and gloves and go out, apparently in
an unusually frolicsome mood. For some
lime she was seen or heard merry-making in
her usual places of resort. Mr. Riley was
absent from home on some neighborhood
errand. His wife and few other inmates of
the house, busy with household duties, had
not observed that the voice of the child had
been for some hours silent in her play
ground.
The shades of a long winter night were
darkening over the fields, when Mr. Riley
returned home, and found his family in con
sternation at the prolonged absence of little
Ella. The search for her, which had com
menced at dusk, was continued by all Uhe
members of the household until every nook
and corner of the premises had been minutely
and repeatedly inspected. The child was
nowhere to be found.
The painful conviction now forced itself
upon the minds of Mr. and Mrs. Riley, that
tittle Ella had wandered off from home, and
was lost. The night had fully set in. A
cutting wind blew fiercely from the north.
The cold was intense. Every moment
sharpened the agony of her parents,' and
roade them tremble for the fate of their child;
exposed to the fierce inclemency of the wind
and cold.
As soon as the domestic search had proved
rmiless, it was decided to alarm the neighbor
. 00 Mnd extend the search to the surround
mg fields and woods. Mounting a still un
fabled horse, Mr. Riley flew to his' nearest
“aigbbor, with the tidings of his calamity,
hence a message was despatched to the next
aighbor, and so on in succession, until a
circuit of many miles in extent was in active
commotion. Alfknew and loved little Ella,
a respected her parents, for they were good
neighbors and excellent people. As fast as
oof or foot could bring them, they came
pouring in f ro m all quarters, men and boys,
goved and coaled for the winter night’s ex-
Posute, and the loving search for the lost
T onie of the neighborhood.
Apian of operations o was adopted, and
.Jfied into immediate execution. Detailed
w s ® a N bands, with a prescribed circuit
widi l^e P rem ' Be3 > widening outwardly
each addition signed to each squad, they
S a n the search by torch-light, and, with
aerted s 'S nal . 8 > 10 indicate its progress ahd
,i ■ h was a touching, and, at the same
beat*' a ,S 00t *)y s 'ght, to see those bold drum
cold' t * le ' r benevolent feelings, through
1 an d darkness, to seek, and if possible,
cir ? Ve ° ne wa nderer f rom their rural
the 6 touc h °f nature spoken of by
of J rcal ram alisl nad made them all feel
la to the missing child,
sea u * on § ! * ,e weary and fruitless
an i c . Wenl on. The morning rose, cold
han<,| C j u P on t * )e benumbed and ex
mile • C j. m P an y- An area of more than a
Hji ln . , meler around the house of Mr.
log. baen searched.. No sign of the
10s ‘ c >»ld had been discovered,
taat recruits arriving from the more dis
places or lhe neighborhood, to fill the
hie bn«- aose w^om fal'gue and indispensa
easiness compelled to retire, the search
YOL. Y,
was resumed upon the same plan that had
been pursued during the night. Every pos
sible place of concealment for a dead body
was examined. Shouts were exchanged be
tween the different detachments, and occa
sional guns fired to attract the attention bf
Ella, if still alive, and elicit some guiding
voice or sound in response. The echoes re
verberating through the woods, or flung back
by the hills, soon died away upon the wintry
air, and all was again silent and voiceless as
the grave. There was no sign to indicate
the direction sbp had taken. The frozen
earth refused to retain even a little footprint
to guide the deliverers upon her track. -
Still that noble band of youths and men
faltered not. Cold, fatigue, and wakefulness,
and hunger, combined to oppress them. But
what were cold, exposure, and hunger, lo
them, when they remembered that a lone
child, the beloved of all their hearts, was
wandering, without food or shelter, through
gloomy solitudes and over frozen earth, or
that, perhaps, her fair little form, rigid in
death, was lying unburied in some dark
covert, or exposed on some wintry hill ? The
thought quickened their pace and speeded
their search.
By noon of the second day, the area of
the search had extended to more than five
miles m diameter. No tidings or sign of the
lost child bad been heard or seen. Hope
had clouded into doubt, and doubt was fast
sinking in despair. About three o’clock in
the afternoon, on the circumference of the
outermost circle of the search, and in the di
rection of the Obion Swamp, a freshly-torn
fragment of some garment was found cling
ing to a bush. It was identified as of a piece
with the apron worn by little Ella on the
evening she left home. The news was soon
communicated to all, and at once concentra
ted the company and the search in the di
rection which it was now certain the child
had gone,
Mr. and Mrs. Riley had kept even pace
with the rest until the morning of the second
day. Buoyed up the hope of finding
their child, and driven almost to madness by
the tortured agony of a parent’s heart, they
could not be persuaded to absent themselves
from the search. They were compelled, at
last, to yield to the conviction, that two bit
terly cold nights and one bleak winter day
had made them childless. With a grief 100
deep for tears, they returned and awaited, in
their now desolate home, the result of the
search for the body of Ella. Alas 1 for the
riven hearts of those who sit in the silence
of an unutterable sorrow, awaiting the return
of the lifeless form in which have been
garnered up the rich treasures of a parent’s
love.
a. c.
In a short lime after the discovery of the
torn fragment of Ella’s apron, her body was
found. It was lying upon the ground, cold
and perfectly rigid. She had evidently died
of cold and exhaustion many hours before.
Forming a rude hearse of poles and bark,
with an overcoat for a covering, they placed
the body upon it, and began their tearful and
silent procession towards the residence of Mr.
Riley. '
Ye who dwell in great cities, and see the
funeral pageant of the yo'Ung sweep along
the crowded thoroughfare of fashion and
commerce, glittering with the trappings of
wealth and blazonry of pride, scorn not the
severe simplicity of this rustic procession.
It is the tear of the mourner, and not (he
nodding plume and the sable drapery of the
hearse, that sanctifies and ennobles the fu
neral cortege in the -eye of reason and of
Heaven.
Few persons, indeed, could have witnessed
that rustic procession to the home of sorrow,
bearing the causo of that sorrow in their
midst, and withheld the tribute of a tear to
the scene. Innocence and beauty had faded
from the earth, and old men and young men
mourned for its departure. A sweet voice
was silent, and forever, in those rural re
treats, and all wept that its cadence was
stilled, and its melody gone, like the hushed
(ones of a broken lute to relur/T no more.
The veil of darkness had been drawn over
the lustre of bright eyes ; light had gone out
in the houseof!a neighbor and a friend, little
Ella was deadj and there were old men and
young men in tears, bearing her lifeless form
to the home of her parents.
With slow and measured step they bore
the body of the maiden, and deposited it in
the presence of the parents. Little Ella was
buried the next day in the neighboring grave
yard, where a neat tombstone, with the in
scription of her name, age, and catastrophe,
point out to the visitor the last resting place
of the lost child of our narrative. It was
never known how she came to wander off
from home on the fatal afternoon ofTier loss.
—Home Journal.
Keeping Promises with Children. —A
gentleman of very nervous temperament once
palled on Dr. Dwight, President of Yale Col
|ege. One of the Doctor’s boys was rather
boisterous, and pestered the nervous gentle
man somewhat, whereupon he said to him,
“My boy, if you will keep still while I am
talking with your father, I will give you a
dollar.” Instantly the boy hushed down as
quiet as a sleeping lamb. At the close of the
gentleman’s remarks he attempted to leave
without giving the boy the dollar; but Doct
or Dwight was too fast for him. He pul a
dollar into the man’s hands saying, “You
promised my boy a dollar for good behavior.
Give him that, as you promised. If sir, we
lie, our children will be liars also.”
Beauts' and Wit —Handsome features
alone are incapable of expressing real beauty
as speech alone is incapable of expressing
real wit.
THE AGITATOR.
EebottuJ to tbe ZBvttmion of tbe of iFmOom awtr tfie SpmO of fficalt&g ftifomi
WHILE THEBE SHALL BE A WRONG WEIGHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE.
VYELLSBORO, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 23, 1855.
From the Montgomery (Alabama) Mall,
“Another Hat Pull, Joel.”
A short yarn was spun to us last evening,
of and concerning the experiments in mill
ing of a couple of friends oi ours, now or
lately sojourning for health and pleasure at
the Talladega Springs. It is unnecessary to
give the names of these gentlemen, but we
for convenience will call them, respectively,
John and Joel. They, it may be remarked,
have great similarity of tastes, and among
other penchants, are very fond of Ashing ;
and everybody knows that the vicinity of the
Talledaga Springs offers fine opportunity to
the skillful knight of the fly.
Thus John and Joel—there being no reli
gious services at the Springs that day—went
out Sunday before last, to the mill of Mr. P.,
a mile or two down the creek, with a view
lo a dinner of small trout and bread. With
them went their invited guest, Mr. Smith,
and “Miles,” “contrived” them down a bot
tle or two of wine.
The parly was snug; the wind was propi
tious, and the fish altogether amiable. A
cosy, nice dinner of brown and crisp moun
tain fish was soon washed down with a few
glasses of champagne; and then cigars were
lit. As the smoke curled languidly about
their noses, Satan, (who was invisibly pres
ent, without an invitation,) suggested to John,
that that mill was a ‘slowcoach,’and couldn’t
cut much lumber; and John expressed the
sama opinion of Joel. Joel thought differ
ently, and so did Smith.
“Let’s try her,” said John.
“Agreed,’’ said Joel and Smith.
It was short work ; a large pine log lay at
right angles across the carriage of the mill;
and it was agreed to “let her rip” through
this. Accordingly the gate was raised and
immediately the stillness of the “grand old
woods’’ was broken by the rapid, sharp
strokes of the saw. In a minute the log was
brought up and the saw went rapidly through.
“Now stop her,” said Joel—Smith and
John essayed to do so.
Bet the mill wouldn’t be stopped, but went
clattering away, as hard as ever!
“Stop her, John, or by the Lord Harry
she’ll split herself in two,” shouted Joel.—
But all the fixtures were obstinate and refused
to yield to the exertions of- John and Smith.
On went the saw, while John and Joel
spired.
Presently the carriage presented some me
tallic obstruction to the passage of the saw,
but “true as steel,” it went against the ob
struction—and then the teeth flew. [Some
pieces of mill-iron had bqen left upon the
carriage way.] But yet it ceased not—up
and down I up and down I the true steel to
the dull cast iron, until suddenly a small
flame broke out among the dust and splinters
near the point of contact.
•‘Great G-d, John,” said Joel, “the infer
nal thing is on fire. What shall we do?”
“Run down to the creek and bring up
your hat full of water,” said John. Joel
looked affectionately at his handsome tile,
which is always kept neatly brushed, but
submitting to a dire necessity he straightway
made it a fire bucket and commenced fighting
the flames. John and Smith’s straws were
unavailable ; nevertheless, they did all those
wild, inconsiderate things which most per
sons will do, in case of fire, when there is no
possibility of doing any good.
Still that toothless saw ripptd on, singing
a demon song as it scraped against the dull
cast iron. And the fire still kept gaining a
little.
Joel labored faithfully, and every two min
utes brought up his hat full of waier and
threw it upon the fire. John stood despair
ingly leaning against a post in the mill, and
halloed to his friend, as he seemed to pause
at the brink of the stream—
“Another hat-full Joel, for God’s sake I
The infernal thing will cost us 81200 apiece
if it burns'!”
“Besides my hat” said Joel; but he bro’t
the water and poured it on.
On went the devilish saw, rasping and
tearing itself to pieces.
At this juncture, Mr. P., the owner of the
mill, having heard the racket and seen the
smoke, came down to the mill, and with great
difficulty the saw was slopped and the fire
put out. Joel was grievously “blown,” with
carrying water in his hat, and John was
quite used up with excitement, while Smith
was breathless at bis exertions at some lever
which he supposed might have some influence
in quieting the demon saw.
“Gentlemen," said the proprietor, very po
litely, “it is easy enough to see why you
couldn’t stop the saw after you set it a-gqing.
This mill has some new arrangements which
I can easily explain—”
“For Heaven’s sake, Mr. P.” said John,
no explanations on that point! It’s the first
mill I ever set and I shall never
start another ! Just send us- your bill for
damages, and let’s say no more about it.”
“The “boys,” paid $6O for not knowing
how to slop a saw, and that night John, in a
feverish sleep, (he has that blessing, chills
and fever) shouted to his room mate —
“One more hat-full Joel!”
The best way to discipline one’s heart
against scandal, is to believe all stories to be
false, which ought not to be true.
We go to the grave of a friend, saying:
“A man is deadbut angels throng about
him, saying, “A man is born.’’
Habit is everything. It either makes or
breaks a man. If they are good, he goes
starwards ; if bad mud wards.
A fellow in lowa jumped so high, the other
day that he saw (ho dogstar wag his tail.
From the Baltimore Patriot.
Col. Forney and President Buchanan.
Col. John W. Forney, editor of the Phila
delphia Press, attended an anti-Admioistra
lion political meeting which wag held at Tar-'
rytowo, New York, on the 2d instant, by (he
friends of John B. Haskin, Esq., anti-Le
compton, for the purpose of securing his re
nomination to Congress. At this assemblage,
Colonel Forney made a long speech,"which
we find fully reported in the New York pa
pers in his own journal. It is known
that Col. Forney was one of Mr. Buchanan’s
strongest political and warmest personal
"friends. But we must let the Colonel speak
for himself, in the following extract from his
speech—thus:
“My fellow citizens, I may be a little per
sonal, because, appearing before you as I do,
I am impelled, if not compelled, to refer to a
portion of the political’ history in which I
have borne a prominent part. My relations
with the Executive of the United Stales be
gan with early boyhood—from a long lime
before I became a voter. I was bis intimate
confidant and friend in early youth; and
down to the present hour, or rather to a peri
od one year ago, I sustained towards Mr. Bu
chanan relations not only of intimacy, but
of more than intimacy. Had be been ray
father, had his blood run in my veins, I could
not have been more devotedly attached to
him. [Some applause.] I believe that these
sentiments of affection, were reciprocated.—
We had tried, in our good old State of Penn
sylvania, for many years to elect this gentle
man to the Presidency. It fell to my lot,
born in the county in which he grew to man
hood—born in the county where he read
law—born in the county where he still has
his residence—born in the county where he
says he expects to die—and knowing him
thus well, it fell to my lot, I say, to do a good
deal of the hard work intended for the fulfil
ment of the aspirations of himself and of the
wishes of his friends.”
Here follows in detail a full history of the
friendly part taken by the speaker towards
securing the nomination of Mr. Buchanan
for the Presidency in 1844, also in 1848,
1852, and finally in the triumph—after long
suffering—at Cincinnati, in 1856. During
all this time, no sacrifice, personal, financial
jst otherwise, was too great, in obedience 40
the one leading object of serving a friend.—
Day and night, night and day, year in and
year out, it was the same mutual, harmoni
ous friendship, the same unceasing oneness
of purpose upon the part of Mr. Forney, to
advance the interests and secure the trium
phant elevation of Mr. Buchanan to the high
est office in the gift of a free people.
Mr. Buchanan was elected, and still the
close intimacy continued, Mr. Forney and his
friend cordially agreeing in political sentiment
upon all questions.
“It was not as we are told in Mr. Forney’s
speech, the Ostend Conference. It was not
the Pacific railroad. It was nothing but the
single issue, should the people of Kansas be
permitted to dispose of their own affairs in
their own way? Should they vote on all
their domestic institutions—not on Slavery
alone, but on all their institutions—unmolest
ed by the bayonets of the Administration on
the one side, and the onsets of a
eign marauders on the other ? No man felt
more deeply in respect to Kansas than did
Mr. Buchanan. No man talked more freely
about it. In his letter of acceptance, and in
the speech which he delivered to the commit
tee appointed by the National Convention in
his parlor at Lancaster, (and I happened to
be present and hear it,) he laid stress on the
great principle that the will of the majoriiy
in that Territory should prevail. Why, he
has said to me a thousand times, “The South
must vote for me. It is Fremont or Buchan
an. They must go for me. The North
must be secured ; and the only way to se
cure the North is to convince these gentlemen
that when I get into the Presidential chair I
will do right to thejteople of Kansas. ‘I arn
now sixty-six years of age,’ he said. ‘I have
reached that time of life when I can have no
arabiliop for re-election; and if I have, the
way to secure re-election is to be strong with
my own people at home. I have watched
this struggle from my quiet retreat in Lon
don. • I have seen what I conceive to be the
mistakes of others. lam not responsible for
the Administration of Mr. Pierce ; therefore
I will inaugurate a new system,.and will show
to these gentlemen that a Pennsylvania Presi
dent will stand firmly by the pledges of a
Pennsylvania gentleman and a Pennsylvania
Democrat.”
The speaker goes on to say that he could,
if not too sacreligiously encroaching upon
private confidence, produce letters which
would divulge some singular secrets, but re
frains from so doing. Time progresses, and
Mr. Buchanan is inaugurated President.—
The Kansas question became a bone of con
tention ; Mr. Walker was appointed Gover
nor of the Territory, having instructions co
inciding with the original views—embracing
popular sovereignty in its widest range—as
mutually approved by Mr. Forney. A change
however, came over the whole aspect of af
fairs. Mr. Buchanan had swerved or yielded
to undue influences, while Mr. Forney re
mained unaltered in sentiment.
“But," as he remarks, “when the dark and
damning deed at Lecompton was perpetrated,
then I saw for the first time, that those gal
lant men in the Territory, Walker and Stan
ton, (and those who had sided with them,)
had been deserted; then I discovered I had
been carried along, and that (he entire Dem
ocratic press of the country had been car
ried along, by the Administration, hnd that
we were called upon to turn back on our
pledges, and to betray qur manhood. [Ap
plause.} Something too mush of that, gcn-
tlemen. When the cup was presented to my
.lips; I refused it. [Bravo and cheers,] Ad
ministrations might change. Presidents might
changer but I had been-too fully and too
personally committed on this subject to go
back to Pennsylvania, and to turn roy back
to pledges which I had both spoken and writ
ten to thousands of men. I did I not believe,
however, for a moment, that the {Administra
tion was resolved to make the betrayal of the
principles of the party which pul! in power a
test; and so, when 1 went to Washington, I
called on ray old friend, and said; to him :
“Well, Mr. Buchanan, for the first timfe in
our lives we are at variance; I find myself
standing by one principle, and, "having fol
lowed your lead, you have deserted it.”—
“Well,” said he, “cannot you :hangetoo?
[Laughter.] “If I can afford toi change,
cannot you afford to change?' if you and
Douglas and Walker will unite!tfi support of
my policy, you will not hear al whimper of
this thing. It will pass by as summer
breeze.” I told him it was very well for him
to say sc ; that an Administration surround
ed by office holders and expectants, living all
the time in an atmosphere of fit fiery, might
be led into such ideas. I said; that' there
were thousands of expectants |who could
come to him and say, “Mr. Bucjianan, you
are right. Mr. Buchanan we down on
our knees. Please to walk over us. Please
to trample on us, and we will be rendered
happy.” I said to him, “You may believe
your policy is right; but I tell you, sir, that,
there is a still small voice in the people which
instinctively rejects and abhorjs] fraud, and
this is dishonor. |j j
“I do not claim to be more honest than
any other man. I have done-j-as all politi
cians have—some things which may not
square exactly with the rules of! religion and
right. I regret that f have done! them ; but
this I will not do. [Cheers,und cries of
‘Bravo.’] 1 have reached the Stature and
the years of manhood, and I ca rnot go back
to Pennsylvania and becohie file slave of
power. [Applause.] 1 cannot.] But then,
Mr. Buchanan, you may tolera ct this differ
ence of opinion. General Jackson tolerated
differences of opinion in his Iriends. Col.
Polk tolerated differences of opinion, for, as
you may recollect, you differed with him on
the subject of the tariff, and yet you remained
in his Cabinet. Mr. Pierce tolerated differ
ences in his Cabinet; and herfi ;we are, the
men who carried you into the place you now
occupy, asking nothing at youf hands, hav
ing refused your favors, haying trampled on
all the patronage tendered to tfipm, because
they desire to serve you independently, here
they are, asking only to be tolerated in the
indulgence of an honest opinion!” The re
ply to that was: “Sir, I intendj to make my
Kansas policy a test.” “Well!, sir, I regret
it; but if you make it a test with your offi
cers, we will make it a testijdt the ballot
box.” * * * i i
“Oh, gentlemen, the chapterjthat shall de
tail the manner in which this Administration
has used its patronage will held black one;
and when our children and pur children’s
children come to read it, theyjwill not be
lieve that an American citizen, lelected to the
Presidential chair in the face olHsuch a’peo
ple, covered with the armor of could
have gone into that chair to have used his
army—aye, his army ! —and the! treasury of
the nationPyoutmoney and mirje, your offi
ces and mine, foT'Jhe purpose; of putting
down a gallant band oilmen for standing
honestly by the plain truth. [Ap
plause.] And I would that when the histo
rian comes to write, he should not be com
pelled to write that the President* was born in
Pennsylvania. No, gentlemen, there has
not been an element lacking to relieve the
unredeemed infamy—not one] j There has
not been a single circumstance lacking.—
Thejy have gone on step by sfep, with the
treat! of fate and destiny, trying to crush out
the brave and gallant spirits tbit have stood
forth asking for nothing but td ;be permitted
to do right.” j !
An Honest Confession.— A fhrmSr and
his son Hans, having been to [market in the
next town, and disposed of theij* load of po
tatoes, got ready to rSturn homes The farm
er laid'himself comfortably doim and com
menced sleeping while Hans drpie the horses.
Soon Hans commenced thinking about the
big peas and pork his mbtherj had promised
to keep for him until his returij,[smacked his
lips and drove the horses fasterJ
The old man lifted himself upon his elbow
and exclaimed: “Hans; don’t drive them
horses so fast; they had a good; full load this
morning,” laid himself down [and snoozed
again.; A little lime the horsjs were driven
slower| then Hans thought about the pork
and pejas, and imagining the old man asleep,
whipped up the horses to a ful speed.
The old man sat up in the wagon a second
time and exclaimed : “Hans how many
limes do -you want me to tell jjcju not to drive
them horses so fast 1 ■ Oh, hoy, if I .would
have done so with ray father lj”|
“The devil of a father you must have,had,’’
replied Hans. I i
“What,” cried the father, ‘fßoy, 1 had a
darned sight better father than elver you had.’’
A railroad conductor wh >| wore a long,
roomy, while linen sack coat, a standing
collar, and - buttoned up to l lie chin, had a
dispute with a female passenger. The lady
wontho'victory gloriously, bvilhe following
brillant and destructive charge:—“You are
a ptirly fellow ain’t you? You are the fust
conductor I ever' seed agwiroi about among
a passel ove decent wimmir g folks in his
skiii.talf Ain't you shamed oye yourself?"
He probably was, for he (eft that car quickly,
and unbuttoned the shirttail poat. —Boston
Post, ’ I
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TEACHER’S COLUMN.
Has a Schoolmaster the Eight to Fan*
In the Court of Quarter Sessions iu Phila
delphia, on Thursday, a case of some inter
est, not only to parents and guardians, but to
the teachers in public schools, was on trial.
From a report of the cases in the Ledger,
we quote as follows :
“The case was one in which a teacher had
sued a lady for assault and battery, which, it
was alleged, was committed in the school
hause, Germantown road and Phenix street.
The defendant was charged with having en
tered the room, and seizing the teacher by
the hair of the head, dragged her to to the
floor and otherwise maltreating hdr. This
treatment created:quile an excitement among
the scholars many of whom ran out of the
room terror-stricken. The defence was that
the teacher had severely punished a child of
the defendant. This child is about nine
years of age, and has lost the use of her
right side ; and, it alleged, that for talking in
school she was struck on the hand with a
piece of ratan, which drew blood. This
coming to the knowledge of the mother, she
immediately called at the school, and com
mitted the assault, though, in answer to a
question from the judge, she stated that she
did not go for that purpose, but was exasper
ated by the teacher telling her that she had
whipped her daughter, and would do so agaia.
“All the evidence in relation to the treat
ment of the-child was ruled out, as no justifi
cation for the assault, and the defendant then
plead guilty. Judge Ludlow, in passing the
sentence of the court, said : •"
“This case comes before the court under
peculiar circumstances, as it is intimately
connected with the good discipline of our
public schools. The rule is no doubt cor
rect, as the law is, that when a parent places
a child within the walls of a school, it to be
under the care and control of the teacher.—
This must be the case in any and every
school. When the child is thus placed, the
first thing to be inculcated in its mind is obe
dience to the rules and regulations, of the
school, and if it disobeys them, it must re
ceive the punishment due to the offence. If
it should once become understood that a
mother can go into a school-room and inter
fere with the teachers, imperiling the lives
of the scholars by creating a panic, lher&
would be an end to all order among the -pu
pils. If there is any wrong done by the
teacher, the parent has a remedy : first, by
an application to the directors of the school,
and, second, by a resort to the law.
“The evidence in this case is, that the
punishment was not unnecessarily severe but
under no circumstance could the assault on
the teacher be justified. I have therefore
nothing to do but maintain the authority of
the teacher of the schools in the exercise of
their duties., I regret exceedingly to be com
pelled to do so in this case on account of the
mother, who appears to have been very much
excited at the time of the assault. The sen
tence of the court is, that the defendant pay
a fine of one cent, and undergo an imprison
ment in the county prison for the term of
twenty-four hours.”
Is the. moon Inhabited.
• Ii has long been known that the moon re
volves on its axis in the same time in which
it revolves round the earth, and that it con
sequently always presents nearly the same
side towards the earth, while the opposite
aide is never seen from our globe. No bod
ies of water nor clouds can he seen on the
moon by the aid of the most powerful tele
scope, nor is the apparent direction of stars
close to iits edge changed by refraction, as
would be the case if an atmosphere envel
oped the moon. Hence it has been inferred
by Whewell, the reputed author of a lata
work entitled, ’’Of Plurality of Words,” that
the moon has no atmosphere or water, and,
consequently, no inhabitants.
inference is shown to be inconclusive
by a recent discovery by the astronomer
Hensel, whose study of the moonjs motion,
continued for many years, has established
the fact that the centre of the gravity of the
moon, instead of being like that of the earth,
at the centre, of the figure, is beyond that
centre, and farther from the side next to the
earth than it is from the other side by sev
enty-four miles. The nearer side of tho
moon, therefore, is a vast extended protu
perance or mountain seventy miles high ;
and any fluid, whether air or water, would
flow downwards from the nearer to the fur
ther side of the moon, where, for aught we
know, intelligent living 'beings may exist.
The nearest side of the moon, cannot be in
habited, at least by beings to whose existence
air and water is essential, as is the case with
all terrestial animals. .
The late celebrated mathematician, Gauss,
proposed as a means of settling the question
whether the moon is inhabited, that a high
monument should be erected on the steppes
of Siberia, as a signal to the inhabitants of
the moon in the hope that they might be in
duced to erect a similar signal to apprise us
of their existence. The discovery of Heif
sel shows that the experiment could be at
tended with no success, inasmuch as the in
habitants of the moon, if there are any, hie
ing on the farther side, could never see a
monument on the earth.
It may not be uninteresting to add, that
it has been discovered, within a few year*
by means of long continued, hourly obser
vation with the barometer, that the moon
exerts an appreciable influence on the pres
sure op the atmosphere ; and also by means
of long continued- magnetic observations,
that it exerts an influence on the decimation
of the magnetic needle,
ish a Child?