of Publication.
TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR is published
Morning, and mailed to subscribe
tTe ?rery« asoliablepriCeOf '
DOLLAR PER ANNUM,,®^
'■Ma in advance. It is intended to notify every
the term for which 1 he has v paid shall
r-^ n C : re d bv the stamp —“Time Out,” on the mar
yTe r CS tbc last paper. The paper will then be stopped
* ;C * farther remittance be received. By this ar
y S cD t no man can be brought in debt to the
•; r ;‘ \ fi ir\T'u:is the Official Paper of the County,
and steadily increasing circulation reach
*'*'o every neighborhood in the County. It is sent
to any Post Office within the county
' put whose most convenient post office may bo
County.
•v.-aess Cards, not exceeding 5 lines, paper incln-
Jcj per year.
s |SmESS DIRECTORY.^
Vu. tO'VKEY & S. F. WIXSOIV,
I fIOI’.XEYS <t COUNSELLORS AT’ LAW, will
i attend the Court of Tioga, Pottor and McKean
alien [Wclleboro’, Feb. 1, 1853.]
"S. B. BROOKS,
.rmRWYAND COUNSELLOR AT LAW
[UV EIiKLAND, TIOGA CO. PA.
• nui'uiudv of Counselors there is safety.”— Bible.
PU. ly-
DH. W. HE WEBB.
ricE Cone's Law Office, first door below
i Hotel. Nights be will be found at his
V, *J e f irs t door above the bridge on Main Street,
Tffarii Samuel Dickinson s.
C. N. WAKTT, DEffIST,
— L /'\FFICE at his residence near the
) Ac .iiletnj’* All work pertaining to
li ue of business done promptly and
L - LJ ' J “ [April 22, 1853.]
irrantad.
—DICRISS® I * house
COIIX I - v > s - Y
C Proprietor.
aosl« taken to aaJ from the Depot free of charge.
ipVS as rI. V a »IA house
r iVEI.LSBOnO’. PA.
L. D. TAVLOR, PROPRIETOR.
1-• J.vitflh j'ojiitl.ir house is centrally located, and
ltd’ll 'to the patronage of thu travelling public.
itfE K«CAW HOT Eli.
CORNING, N. Y.,*
2 FREEMAN, - - - - Proprietor.
.•islets- L"l:rings, 25 cts. Board, 75 cts. per day
£nms> Mfiir-il, ISSP. (ly.)
'"'j. C, WHITTAKER,
: I‘hyeiexan and Ruryeon. *
ELK LA XI), TIO G A ; CO., PENN A.
CJ'.i-it naJient 5 in nil parts of tho County, orre
:e:bcm l.r irt.itment at bis house. [June li,]
IS, O. CO EE,
silts rr ash hair-vresser ,
i,l‘jP .n tin* rear of the Post Office. Everything’in
S • ; hue \ulU-e done as well and promptly as it
.1 -ae iu the city saloons. Preparations for re
rx: rhn Ir.iff. and beautifying the hair, for sale
:l .' Hair ai.d whi-keis dyed any color. Call aud
elUl'uro. Sept. 22, 1850.
GAINES HOXEE.
E >\ YRKMILYEA, PROPRIETOR .
Gaines, Tiogrn Comity, Pa.
p:iN well known hotel is located within ca«y access
£■ [■f'.hebesth'hingaudbuntinggroußdsin Northern
£ k >.. pjlhs a. ill h • spared fur the accommodation
j£ ■ a--J-e joclters aud the traveling public.
t] l ' 14. I-’ I '.
THE CORNING JOURNAL.
st«gc W. Pratt, Editor and Proprietor.
nt Corning. Steuben Co., X. Y.. at One
■arnr.’lHfn Cents per year, in advance. The
r- 1 .• U-pnMlean in politics, and bu* a circula
:r mto every part of Steuben County.—
.c-.ruui < f extending their business into that
counties will find it an excellent ad
.'u.tjiaflnnu. Address as above.
[OIDERSPORT HOTEL
OmI.KKSI’ijHT POTTER CO., PEKXA.
8. P. Glassmirc, - - Proprietor.
bISH'jTKI. i- located within an hour's drive o
; u.c i c'cl tt.itc-r; of the Allegheny, Genesee, and
; rh cr-\ Xo efforts are spared to make
i.xe for pleasure seekers during thotrouting sea
:>u f..r the traveling public at all times.
■ui?vy iy.
JOHN 55. SIIAHESFRAR,
T A I Ij o K.
np- ncd liis shop In the room over
rt!h. KuK-rts Tin Shop, respectfully informs the
.1 'f Wcllsboru’ and vicinity, that he is prepared
:’o orders in his line of i business with prompt
-i-i de-r-uteh
(V/fn/y done on short notice.
f';t. 21, ISOS.—flm
WATCHES! WATCHES!
n 2E !i:i' zut ti fine aasurtment of heavy
mum LEV EH JIVXTER-CA.SE
Gold and Silver Watches,
---«Viil sell cheaper than “dirt” on ‘Time/ i. o.
•Time Pieces’ on a short (approved) credit,
--■-u of KiII’AIUIN'G done promptly. If a
’" it n<.t June to the satisfaction of party
-n-t charge will bo made.
» ai'jircciaicd and a continence of jiatron-
'ciilf j Jllt itoi{,
Juno 24, IS4S.
HOME INDUSTRY.
-- having established a MAR
BLE MANUFACTORY at the village of Tioga,
r: -«:: prepared to furnish
Honmnents, Tomb-Stones, &c.,
®.IOST & ITAUAJT MARBLE
solicit the patronage of this and ad-
a od -took on hand ho is now ready to ex
• tit r* with neatne-?, accuracy and dispatch.
•* den’.cred if detired.
JOHN BLAMPIKD.
? T -*:a Co., Pa.. Sept. 2S, ISSO.
SV.U. TERBEU-,
X. A".
Foie sale and Retail Dealer, in
'• - 1 . ; ; f.t'nd, Ztur, and Colored
■■ r>, !h,Camphcncand Burnivj
X-i and fHit.fi, J'ttrc J.iqttor* for
d-t. l/, rlfstfi Paints mid Brushes,
■’ "’J J tl'trlr., J'luvorimg Extracts, .t’C.,
’■ •■■'■.t! of School I’ooks —
I '.aLk 1ji■*j Staple and Fancy
-Mationary.
i :r ugji-xi and Country Merchants dealing
• : • jii \c aiti'.los can be supplied at a small
•• Xtw Yf.rk prices. [K>pt. 22, 1 Sa7.]
1 STOVE SHOP!
hoy’s iuu:g stoke,
V;" eon I'hi/ ,S!uces, Tin, and Japanned
emr-hnlf the naval prices.
' _ ' V.l* v .it*.-! (i v c n Cuuk Stove :md Trim
:Sls.oo.
fin and Hardware
r■ t r
any » >rs »• fl io nants anything in this line
'* nr price? before purchasing elsewhere.
'' e rhee-Mwo doois south of Farr’s Ho
’* i ■' ru s Store. CALL AXD PEE
H - iJ. DEMIN Gr,
, -,nncfi lo the people of Tioga County
fc. lt .' r< P'lred to till all orders for Apple, Tear
‘‘i 'fs-. CC! M lnr ' R'frgreen and .Deciduous
s,,r * ,rran,F Raspberries. Gooseberries,
• ‘.irawb* rricb of all acw and approved vari-
of Hvbrid. Perpetual and Sum-
M o,4 *. Bourbon, Noisette, Tea,
1:11 ri 'mhmp Rcm**.
BBERV Jneludinp all tbe finest now v»-
'-V< i... ** . «f Althea, Calycantbtls,
\VPno •-y’jnpuus. Viburnums, Wigilias ic.
*’ t-lxS—faeonle**. Dahlias. Phloxes. Tulips,
"jacinths, Narcissi*; Jonquils, Lil-
-4 doz plants, $5.
’’ or Pruning will be
THE AGITATOR
VOL. VI.
Hy heart h&s had a heavy shock;
Not agony, or bitter strife.
Bat from a blissful dream I woke,
To live once more my early life.
Long have I been a wanderer.
But yesternight I stood again
Where I have hoped, and smiled, and wept,
Where first I loved, and loved in vain.
“Full many a heart in the rebound
Is caught," so all the wise ones teach ;
And when no more I hear the sonnd -
Of Kitty's silvery laugh and speech ;
Nor saw the sunny glance and smile.
Now torturing, now blessing me,
My heart grew stronger all the while.
And proud to know itself so free.
When Mary’s soft blue eyes had healed *
The wounds that Kitty’s dark one’s made,
These roses well those thorns concealed,
This sunshine gilded o’er that shade,
And thinking of my plighted vow
I said last night with spirit free,
.1 care no more for Kitty now
Than Kitty cares for me.
But when they told mo she was dead;
That but a few short weeks ago
Her body found an earthy bed,
And ehe the homo that spirits know—
Faded from sight the vision new,
Faded those soft blue eyes, and fast
My own were dimmed as to myvicvr
Rose up the picture of the past.
1 I found her grave. A marble white
Gleamed coldly thro’ the moonlight pale-
Her name, her age, some sentence trite
Told briefly tho unwelcome tale.
And, kneeling by that lowly bed,
While brightly shone the lamps of night,
And summer breezes sighed, I shed
A few tears for a lost delight.
Farewell, farewell! I love once more
And know this love finds welcome meet-
The future may have much in store,
And yet old memories are sweet.
And sometimes in my sunny home,
Like far-off beaming stars, between
My later love and me, may come
The clear dark eyes of Kitty Green.
—Evomip Post,
One cool afternoon in the early fall, I
Chester F. Le Boy, a gentleman—stood on the
platform of the Albany depot, watching the
procession of passengers just arrived in the
Hudson lliver boat, who defiled past me on their
way to the cars. The Boston train, by which
I had come, waited patiently as steam and fire
might, for their leisure, with only occasional
and fa’nt snorts of remonstrance of the delay ;
yet still the jostling crowd hurried past into
the cars, and flitted through them in search of
seats, their increasing number at last warned
me that I might And it* difficult to regain my
own, and I followed them.
*T beg your pardon, sir.”
I turned, in obedience to a touch on my arm,
and saw a respectable looking negro man before
me, who bore the traveling bag and shawl, and
was evidently the attendant of a slender and
stylish girl behind him.
“Do 1 speak,” he said, bowing respectfully,
and glancing at the portmanteau I carried, on
which ray surname was quite legible, “do I ad
dress, air, Mr. Le Roy ?”
“That is my name—at your service—what
can I do for you ?”
“The young lady, Miss Florence Dundard,
who was to join you at Albany at six o’clock
this evening—l have charge of her.” Ho turned
to the young lady behind him.
“This is Mr. Le Roy, Miss.”
The young lady, whose dark blue eyes had
been scanning me, as I could perceive, through
her blue silk veil, now lifted it with an exqui
sitely gloved little hand, and extended the other
to me, with a charming mixture of frankness
and timidity. 1
“I am very glad to meet you, Mr. Le Roy,”
said she. “I thought I should know you in a
moment, Jenny described you accurately. How
kind it was of you to offer to take charge of me.
I hope I shan’t trouble you.”
In the midst of my bewilderment, at thus
being addressed by the sweetest voice in the
world, I managed to see that I must make a
proper reply, and proceeded to stammer out
what I thought an appropriate speech, when
the servant, who had left us for a moment, re
turned, and I abandoned it unfinished.
AS DIE FOLEY
“Did you see to my baggage, Edward ?” asked
his mistress.
“Yes, Miss ; it is all on.”
“Then you had better hurry to reach the 7
o'clock boat. Good bye, and tell them you saw
me off.”
I stood like one in a dream, while tho man
handed me two checks for the trunks and in
dued me with the light baggage he had car
ried ; but I was aroused by the young lady's
asking me if we had not better secure our seats
in the cars and answered by offering her my
arm. In ten minutes we were seated side by side,
and trundling out of Albany at a rate that
grew faster and faster.
I had no time to reflect, with that lovely face
opposite me, but what was the use. Some
strange mistake had undoubtedly happened,
and I had evidently .been taken for another per
son of the same name ; but how to remedy this
now, without alarming the innocent young lady
in my charge—how to find the right man, with
the right name, among several hundred people
and how to transfer her, without an unpleasant
scene and explanation, to tho care of some one
whoso person was no less, strange to her than
mine ! While those thoughts whirled through
my head, I happened to encounter those smiling
eyes fixed upon me, and their open, unsuspi
cious gaze decided me. I will not trouble or
distress her by any knowledge of her position,
I concluded, but will just do my best to fill
the place of ;the individual she took me for, and
conduct her wherever she wishes to go,if lean
only find wl(ere it is! I turned to her with an
affectation of ease, which I was very far from
feeling, and said, “it is a long journey.”
“Do you think so? Bat it is very pleasant,
isn’t it? Cousin Jenny enjoyed it so much!”
“Ah, indeed!
“Why, why, what a queer man !” she said,
-with a light laugh. -‘Doesn’t she Aever tell
you, as she does me in all her letters, how hap
py she is, and that St. Louis is the sweetest
place in the world to live in ? Dear me! that
I should have to toll her own husband first.
How wo shall laugh about it when wo get
there."
BeboteQr to tf)t 35*i
WHILE THERE SHALL BE A WHON& UNEIQHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN’!
WELLSBORCh TIOGA COUNTY, PA., T;
NOW AND THEN.
BY MARK SUMTER.
A Slight mistake.
:enacow of tfce men of
So it was St, Louis where we were going to,
and I was her cousin’s husband. X never was
so thankful for two pieces of information in my
life. | '
“And how does dear Jenny look I and what
is she doing 1 and how is dear Aunt Semen ?
do tell me the newsl”
“Jenny,” said I mustering courage and words'
“is the dearest little wife in the World you
must know, only far too fond of her scamp of
a husband. As to her looks, you can’t expect
me to say anything, for she always looks lovely
to me.”
“Bravo!” said the pretty girl, with a main
cions smile ; “but about aunty’s rheumatism ?”
“Miss, I mean, of course, Mrs. Beman, it
very well.”
“Well?” said my fair questioner, regarding
me with surprise, I thought she had not been
well for a number of years 1”
“I mean well for her,” said I, in some trepi
dation ; “the air of St. Louis (which ! have
since learned is of a misty moisture order) has
done her a world of good. She is quite a dif
ferent woman."
“I am very glad,” said her niece.
She remained silent for a few moments, and
then a gleam of amusement began to dance in
her bright eyes.
“To think,” she said, suddenly turning to
me with a musical laugh, “that in all this time
you have not once mentioned the baby.”
I know I gave a violent start and I think I
turned pale. After I had run the gauntlet of
all these questions triumphantly, as I thought,
this new danger stared mo in the face. How
was I ever to describe a baby-, who had never
noticed one? My courage sank below zero,
hut in the same proportion the blood rose to
iny face, and I think my teeth fairly chattered
in my head.
"Don’t bo afraid that I shall not sympathize
in your raptures,” continued ray tormentor,
as I almost considered her,” “I am quite pre
pared to believe anything after Jenny’s letter—
you should see bow she cares for him.”
“Him ! Blessed goodness, then it must be a
boy!”
“Of course,” said I, blushing and stammer
ing, but feeling it imperative to say something
“we consider him the finest fellow in the world;
but you might not agree with us, and in order
to leave your judgment unbiased, I shall not de
scribe him to you.”
“Ah! but I know Just how he looks, for
Jenny had no such scruple—so you may spare
yourself the trouble or happiness, whichever
it is—but tell me what you mean to call him?”
“We have not decided upon a name,” I re
plied.
“Indeed! I thought she intended to give him
yours.”
The deuce she did ! thought I. “No, one of
a name is enough in a family,” I answered.
The demon of inquisitiveness, that, to my
thinking, had instigated my companion hereto
fore, now ceased to possess her, for we talked
of various indifferent things, and I had the relief
of not being compelled to draw on my imagina
tion at the expense of my conscience, when I
gave the particulars of my recent journey from
Boston! Yet, I was far from feeling at ease,
for every sound of her voice startled me with a
dread of fresh questions, necessary, but impos
sible to be answered, and I felt a guilty flush
steaming upon my temples, every time I met
the look of those innocent eyes.
It was late when we stopped for supper, and
soon after I saw the dark fringes of my com
panion’s eyes droop long and often, and began
to realize that she ought to be asleep. I knew
perfectly well that it was my duty to offer her
a resting place on my shoulder, but I hardly
had courage enough to ask that innocent face
to lie on my arm, which was not as she thought
it, that of a cousin and a married man. .Rec
ollecting, however, that it was my duty to make
her comfortable, and that I could scarcely de
ceive her more than I had. already done, I prof
fered the usual civility. She slightly blushed
but thanked me, and accepted it by leaning her
head lightly against my shoulder, and looking
up into my eyes with a smile said, “As you
are my cousin." Soon after her eyes closed
and she slept sweetly and calmly, as if resting
in security and peace.
I looked down at the beautiful face, slightly
paled with fatigue, that rested against mine,
and felt like a villain. I dared not touch her
with "my arm, although the rebounding of the
cars jostled her very much. I sat remorseless
until the sleeper settled the matter by slipping
forward and awakening. She opened her eyes
instantly, and smiled.
“It’s no use for me to try to sleep with my
bonnet on,” she said ; “for it is very much in
the Way for me ; I am sure it troubles you.”
So she removed it, giving mo the pretty little
toy, with its graceful ribbons and flowers to
put on the rack above us. I preferred to hold
it, telling her it would be safer with me, and
after a few objections, she resigned it, being in
truth too sleepy to contest the point; then ty
ing the blue silk-veil over her glossy hair* she
leaned against my shoulder and slept again.
This time when the motion- began to shake
and annoy her, I stifled the reproaches of my
conscience, and passing my arm lightly round
her slender waist, drew her head upon my
breast, where it lay all night. She slept the
sleep of innocence, serene and peace, and it is
needless to say that I could not close my eyes
or ease my consqience. I could only gaze down
omthe beautiful; still face, and imagine how it
vrould confront me, if she knew what I was,
and howl had deceived her; or dreaming more
wildly still, reproduced it in a hundred scenes,
which I had never before paused to imagine, as
the face of my wife. I had never loved, unless
the butterfly loves of Saratoga and Newport
might be so dignified, and still less had I ever
dreamed or thought of marrying, even as a pos
sibility and far contingency. Never before, I
solemnly aver, had I seen the woman whom I
wished to make my wife—never before had I
so longed to call anything my own, as I did
that lovely face lying on my heart. No, it was
impossible for me to sleep.
In the morning we reached Buffalo, and
spent the day at Niagara. If I had thought
her lovely while sleeping, what was she,when
the light of feeling and expression played over
her fice, and she eloquently admired the scone
t&irom anir tt>e of Reform*
INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE.
imSDAY MORNING. DECEMBER 15,'1859.
before us, or was even more eloquently still.—
I don’t think I looked at the cataract as much
as I looked a¥ her, or thought the one creation
more beantifhl than the other.
- T§he was now quite familiar with me in her
unppcent way, calling me “cousin Frank," and
seemed to take a certain pleasure in my society
arid protection. It was delightful to he greeted
so'gladly by her, when I entered the hotel par
lor; to hare her come forward from the lonely
SdP±. where she had been waiting, not unob
served or unnoticed, to receive me—to have
'her hang on my arm—look up into my face—
tell me all her little adventures alone (how long
ittfeemed to me,) while every word, look and
sm3e, seemed doubly dear to mo, because I
knew the precarious tenure by which I held
tuy„ right to them. She busied herself, too,
while I was gone out, with our joint baggage,
and. rummaging all over her trunks to find a
box which I had expressed a desire to see. She
I ended my gloves, sewed the band on my trav
ing cap, and found my cigar case whenever I
id lost it, which was about twenty times a
l X.while she scolded me for the carelessness
Web she declared almost equalled her own.
long ago she had given over into my pos
ssion her elegant little portmonnie, “with all
e money in it, which she was sure she would
se, as she could never keep anything,” and
she bad ordered me to take out what she
intod for her traveling expenses,•! opened it
■th trembling hands when I was alone, and
amined the contents. There were, besides
1 the bank bills with which she had probably
en furnishod for her journey, and which with
plans care she had packed into the smallest
possible compass, as much gold as her pretty
joy could carry, a tiny pearl ring, too small to
it my finger, but not hers—which I am afraid
[ kissed—a card with her name on it, and a
nemorandnm in a pretty hand— " No. Olive
street, St. Louis," which I rightly conjectured
kas the residence of her cousin Jennie, whose
tusband I was; a very fortunate discovery for
oe. Indeed thus far 1 had not found the way
of the transgressor hard, in external circum-
stances at least, and when with her I forgot
jverything but her grace and beauty, and my
jrm resolution to be no more to her than her
busin should be; but out of that charmed
jresoncc made me miserable,
i I am afraid I must sometimes have betrayed
pe conflicts of feeling I had, by my manner;
jut when I wtfs reserved and ceremonious with
jer, she always resented it, and begged me so
jewitohingly not to treat her so, and to call her
oy her sweet name “Florence,” that- had I
dreamed as much as I longed to do, I could not
(ve refused her. But the consciousness that
vas not what she thought me, but an impos
•, of whom, after our connection had ceased,
d she had discovered the deception practiced
ua her, she could think or remember nothing
it would not cause unmarried self-reproach
d mortification, all innocent and trusting as
3 was, this reflection, more than any other, I
ofess, and the knowledge of the estimation
which she would forever hold me, after my
position was discovered, agonized me, and I
mid have given all I possessed to own it to
1.
er and I leave her sight at once, though the
nought of never seeing her more was dreadful.
I iut that could not be.
At last we reached St. Louis. Do I say “at
I ist?” 'When the sight of those spires and ga
bles warned me that my brief dream of happi
ness was over, and that the remorseful reflec
ts ons I had been staving off so long wore now
to commence in earnest, the thought of the
oming banishment from Florence was dreadful
II me, and the time seemed to fly on lightning
v ings as it drew near.
She was all gayety and Was astonished at my
sidness and absence of mind when so near
home and Jennie, and when we entered the
c image that was to convey us to our destina
t on, I had half a mind to take a cowardly flight
Either than encounter the scorn and disappoint
ment of those blue eyes; but I mustered cottr
age and followed her in giving the address I
f mnd in the portmonnie which, fortunately
v as the right one to the driver.
[“Almost home I” said she, turning her bright
f 160 towards me—we were rattling up the street
nod my time was short—“how can you be so
c uict?”
“Because, Miss Florence,” I answered, “the
t me has come in which I must confess to. you
t lat I have no more right in the house to which
v e are now hastening than to the name by
v Inch yod address me, and that my only claim
to either, is that of an imposter and deceiver.”
She turned her lovely face, wondering and
p uzzled towards me.
Thank heaven I did not road fear and aver
s on in it.
“Xo right! no claim !” she repeated, “what
c in jou mean
I confessed the whole truth, as nearly as I
Lave set it down here, denying nothing and
onccaling nothing, not even the useless secret
of my love for her. When the brief recital
v as ended, we both remained silent, but she
1; ad hidden her face, I could see she trembled
v$
iolently with shame and repulsion. The sight
of her distress was agony to me, and ,1 tried to
s ly a few words of apology.
“You cannot blame or hate me, Miss Dun
c ard, more than I blame or hate myself,” I said,
‘ for the distress I have unwillingly caused you.
Heaven knows that if I accepted the charge of
sj much innocence and beauty too lightly, I
1 ave heavily atoned since, in having occasioned
t lis suffering to you, and my own punishment
i i more than I can bear.”
The coach stopped as I spoke; she turned
>wards me eagerly, her face bearing traces of
iafs, and said in a low voice, “Do not misun-
etstand nto if 1 was so silent;”
The coachman threw open the door; and stood
v ’ailing. I was obliged to descend and assist
ler out. I hardly dared to touch that little
1 and, though it was for the last time, but I
v atched her graceful figure With sad distress.
he ttas already recognized, for the door was
irown open, and a pretty woman, followed by
tine looking, black whiskered gentleman whom
supposed to bo my namesake, rushed down
le steps. There were loud exclamations of as
mishment and pleasure; a cordial welcome,
nd some rapid questions to which Florence re
jrued very low and quiet answers, and quick-
ly extricating herself from the confusion, pre
sented me as Mr. Lo Roy, your husband’s name
sake, and the gentleman who kindly took charge
of me."
1 glanced at her face to see if she was mock
ing me, but it was pale and grave. Mrs. Le-
Roy opened her eyes widely, but was too well
bred to express surprise, and after introducing
me to her husband in-tbe'same terms, invited
me into the house. Hardly conscious what I
did, or of anything except that I was still in
the presence of Florence; from which I could
not endure to banish myself, I followed them
into a handsome parlor, where sat an old lady
whom my conscience told me was the rheumat
ic annt I had so cruelly belied. Florence her
self presented me to this lady, who was a fix
ture. and unable to rise from her chair, and be-
could stammer out an apology and retire,
related in her own way (how different from
mine,)’ the mistake by which she had been
placed in my care, and the history of our jour
ney, in which it appeared our host, Mr. Le Hoy,
had been a follow passenger. When she had
ended, they all crowded about me, warmly ex
pressing their thanks for my “kindness and con
sideration,” to my utter bewilderment and sur
prise, and cordially inviting me| to remain with
them, and mate the acquaintance of my name*
sake and family.
I detached myself from all this unexpected
kindness as soon as I could, for I fancied I read
aversion in the flashing and paling face, and
drooping eyes of Florence, and with one last
look at her left the room. A moment after, and
I felt the touch of a light hand on my arjn, and
turning, saw with mute surprise that she had
followed me into the vestibule.
“Mr. Le Roy,” she said hurriedly, “I cannot
let you go away misunderstanding me as I see
you do. If I silent while you so humbly
apologized for the noble, generous and honor
able conduct, I was not angered, believe me,
but because I was too much astonished, after
wards too much' moved and grateful to speak.
I owe you more than I can-say, and should he
miserable indeed, if a false shame, which you
see has not prevented my telling you thisVslhrd
prevent you from continuing an acquaintance
so strangely begun. Trust me, sir, I speak the
truth.”
I don’t know what answer I made, for the
revulsion of feeling was almost too great for
words, and the rapture .of knowing, as I look
ed down into that lovely face that it was not
for the last time, quite took away the little sense
I had remaining.
If you want to know how I felt, ask a man
who is going to be hung, how ho would feel to
be reprieved.
Well, how time flies. It certainly does not
seem five years since all this happened, yet
-qousin Jenny (my cousin Jenny now) so bit
terly reproaches-us in-bur Inst-letter, for not
visiting her in all that time, we have again un
dertaken the journey, but under different au
spices since Florence is Florence Dundard no
more, and sleeps upon my arm in the cars no
more blushingly, but with the confidence of a
wifo of nearly five years standing, and I regis
tered our names in the hotel book, as “Mr and
Mrs. Le Hoy,” and bless my lucky stars as I
rend it over. Even while I write, Florence,
lovelier than ever, as 1 think, makes a grand
pretence of arranging our baggage at the ho
tel where we stop, (and which has reminded
mo by past transactions, to write down this
stofy) or comes leaning over me to call me
“dear Chester,” instead of dear cousin Frank,” 1
as five years before, and to scold me for being
so stupid as to sit and write instead of talking
with her. Was ever man so happy in a slight
mistake.
Old "World Conservatism.
While Americans engaged in ship building,
in agriculture, in every department of industry,
are always on the alert to adopt any improve
ment from whatever source it may come, the
Frenchman, the German, and the Englishman
each deems his owp nation so superior that it
has nothing to learn from any other. This Con
trast between Americans and Europeans has
been exemplified a hundred times.
Some years ago the Messrs? Ilovey, of Bos
ton; embarked in an extensive series of trials
to produce an improved strawberry; it was
said that they fruited over 2,000,000 of new
seedlings, and out of these they selected two
remarkably large and fine Varieties. Has any
one ever heard of these being cultivated in Eu
rope ? On the other hand, our nurserymen are
so eagerly on the watch for any new varieties
of fruit that may be originated in Europe, that
when the “Victoria Currant” was first produced,
the Messrs. Parsons, of Flushing, (L. I.) paid
$3O for the first bush which they could procure.
Mow slow Were the English in adopting from,
this country the sharp bow for ships, and espec
ially in dispensing with the heavy bowsprit on
steamers 1 Like the Chinese, they look upon
the Americans as “outside barbarians,” and
like the Jews of old, they ask, “Can any good
thing come out of Nazareth ?” The compara
tive absence of this feeling was most strikingly
shown by Mr. Stevens when he visited England
with his famous yacht. While the America
was lying at Liverpool with the challenge fly
ing from her mast-head to sail against all the
English yachts for §50,0(10, Mr. Stevens noticed
a gaff on one of the English vessels which he
thought was better than any other that he had
seen. Notwithstanding the extraordinary cir
cumstances of the case, and though he knew
the attention of all England was upon his move
ments, ho immediately went to one of the ship
yards and ordered a gaff like the one ho bad
observed, and the Abierica had that English
gaff at the top of her sail when she won the
great race. The greater readiness of the Amer
icans to adopt improvements, from whatever
source they may come, is one considerable cause
of our more rapid advance in the arts, and in
material prosperity. —Scientific American.
Sound. —“A man,” says Dr. Johnson,- “is,
in general, better pleased when he has a good
dinner upon his table than when his wife talks
Greek*” *
How TO BECOME A REAL RsTATE AoENT.—
Marry a rich wife.
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NO. 20.
The Maiden and the Here,
On theoiight before tbs battle of Brandywine,
1 wai sent with a message from General Green
te Count Pulaski, a noble Polander, who took a
prominent part in our straggle for freedom.—
He wfc quartered in a neat farm-honso, near
the upper forts. After our business was finished,
the Count asked me to take some refreshments,
and at the same time called out—
“ Mary I my lass, Mary 1”
In an instant a rosy-cheek girl entered, her
face beaming with joy, it would seem, at the
very sound of Pulaski’s voice.
“Did you call me, Count?” said the maiden,
timidly.
“How often hate 1 told yon, my little love,"
he said, bending his fall form to kiss her cheek,
“not to call me Count; call me, dear, Pulaski,
This is a republic my little favorite; we have
no counts, you know,”
“But yon are a Count, Sir, -when at home,
and they say you came a long, way over tha
ocean to fight for us.”
“Yes, Mary, very .true—l did come a long
way—the reason was, I had to come. Now,
can you get for this gentleman and myself, a
little refreshment ?, He has a long Way to ride
to-night.”
“Certainly, sir,” and she Went out of tha
room like a fairy.
“Fine, pleasant girl,”'said Pulaski; “would
that I had the wealth 1 once bad! j would
give her a portion that would send half the
youth herabouts after her sweet face.
On tha morning of tha 11th of September,
1777, the British army advanced in full force
to Chadd’s Ford, for the purpose of crossing
Brandywine Creek,'and bringing on an action
with Washington. Sir. Wm. IloWe drove Max
well’s division across the creek by ten o'clock
at one of the lower fords.
The Hessian General, Knyphansen, with a
large force, advanced upon the creek, and Uni
ting with Lord Cornwallis, who commanded the
left wing of the army, crossed at the upper
ford of the river and creek. It so happened
that during the conflict, when carrying orders,
~l passed immediately in the direction of Pulas
ki’s quarters, that I had visited the night be
fore. Suddenly a sheet of flame burst forth;
the house was on fire. Near the doorsteps lay
the body of Mary, her head cut open by a
sabre, and her brains coming out of the terrible
wound. I had been there but half a minute,
when General Pulaski at the head of a troop of
cavalry, galloped rapidly'to the house. Never
shall I forget the expression on his face, as he
shouted like a demon on seeing the inanimate
form of Mary.
“Who did this 7”
A little boy, who had not been before noticed,
laying on the gras? With his leg dreadfully
mangled, replied : ‘ ,
“There they go!”
He pointed to a company of Hessians, then
some distance off.
“Hicilt-ivnEEL— men-, CHARGE!!
And they pm charge. Ido not think that
one man of that Hessian corps fiver left that
field except to be placed in the grave.
The last of Pulaski was on the battle-ground
of Brandywine. He and his sweet Mary fell on
that same field:
&dacafion. of Husbands.
Punch gives an excellent article on the Edu
cation of Husbands, worthy of the best days of
Caudlei as follows:
Itow suggestive is the new year of bills, and
bills of housekeeping ! It is fearful to reflect
how many persons rush into matrimony to
tally unprepared for the awful change thJft
awaits then. A man may fake a Wife at twenty
one, before he knows the difference between a
chip and a Leghorn. We would no more grant
a marriage license to 'anybody simply because
he is of age, than a license on that ground only
to practice as an apothecary, Ifnsbands ought
to be educated; We would like to have the
following questions put to young, inexperienced
persons about to marry,:
Are you aware ; siri of the pride of coal and
candles 1 ,
Do you know which is the moat economical,
flitch* bone, or the round ? I
How far* young man* will a leg of mutton go
in ft small family ?
How much dearer, now, is silver than Bri*
tarda?
?Jease to giro the .average price of a four
poster. '
Declare if you can,, rash youth, the sura per
annual that chemisettes, pelerines, cardinals,
bonnets, veils, icapes,''ribbons, flowers, gloves,
cuffs, and collars, would .come to in the lump?
If Unable to answer these inquiries, we would
say to him, “Go back to school.'’
lie that should bo a husband should also un
dergo a training, physical and moral. 11a
should be further examined, thus:
Can you read or write amid the noise and
yells of'a nursery ? ! N
Can you wait any given time for breakfast ?
Can you maintain your serenity during a
washing day ?
Can you cut your old friends ?
Can you stand being contradicted in the faco
of all reason ?
Can you keep your temper when you are not
listened to ?
Can you do wbat you are told without being
told why ?
In ono word young man, have you the pa
tience of Job ?
If you can lay your band Upon yonr heart
and answer “yes,” take your license and marry
—not else.
Jusi Out.—A Deacon residing in Ashtabula
who was acting in the capacity of a colporteur,
called at.a shop in Windsor, where they have
dry goods, groceries, hardware, and sometimes
a little whiskey to sell. The man who owned
the store was absent, and his wife officiated ao
clerk- The Deacon passed the time of day,
talked about religion, and finally asked if they
had tlje one thing needful, (meaning the Bible.)
The lady’s answer was;
“Xo, we are just out; but my husband H
going to Cleveland next week, and hewilljget
a h irrt-1— Wan cn C'hrouitfe. •
3 aaSras. 6 months, li hontHs
- $3,00 $4,50 $O,OO
5.00 0,50 8,00
?,00 8,50 10,00
8.00 £f,sff 12,50
15.00 20,00 30.00
25.00 35,00 50,00