111pmin g Democrat,
HARVEY SICKLER, Publisher.
VOL VII.
Ppraiittj pcmocraf,
A Democratic weekly
Ttmi—l copy 1 jer, (in advance) $2,00 ;if
not paid within six months, $2.50 will b churned
NO papor will bo DISCONTINUED, until all ar
oarages aro paid; nnloss at tho option of puMishor.
RATES OF ADVERTISING.
TEH LUTKO COHSTITVTK A SQUARE.
One square one or threo insertions $1,50.
Every subsequent insertion less than 6 50
fiasL ESTATC, VEBSOHAL PROPERTT, and GBHSBAL
ADVERTISIHG, as may be agreed upon.
FATKKT MEMCIHXS and other advertisements oy
the column:
One column, 1 year, S6O
Half column, 1 year
Third column, 1 year,
Fourth column, 1 year, 20
Business Cards of one square or less, per year,
With paper, SB.
X3T EOITORIAL or LOCAL ITEM advertising—with
out Advertisement —15cts. per line. Liberal terms
made with permanent advertisers.
EXECUTORS, ADMIKISTBATUKS andAl'Dl
tOß'S NOTICES, of the usual length, $2,50
OBITUARIES,- eieeeding ten lines, each ; RELI
GIOUS and LITERARY NOTICES, not of general
Interest, one half the regular rates.
or Advertisements must be handed in by Tcas-
BAT NOOE, to insure insertion the same week.
JOB WORK
•fall kinds neatly executed, and at prices to suit
the times.
All TRANSIENT ADVERTISEMENTS and JOB
WOKE must he paid for, when ordered
justness gtoUcr*.
R7& W E LITTLE, ATTORNEYS AT
LAW Office on Tioga Street Tuukhacoeck Pa
WM. M. PIATT, ATTORNEY AT LAW\Of
fice in Stark's Brick Block Tioga St., Tunk
nannock, Pa.
H S. COOPER, PHYSICIAN A SURGEON
• Newton Centre, Luierno County Pa.
L, PARRISH, ATTORNEY AT LAW
• Offi -e at the Court House, in Tunkhannock.
Wyoming Co, P*
W~ RHOADS, PHYSICIAN k SURGEO N
• will attend promptly to all calls in his pro
fession. May be found at his Office at the Drug
Store, or at his residence on Putman Sreet, formerly
occupied by A. K. Peckham Esq.
DENTISTRY.
DR. L. T. BURNS has permanently located in
Tunkhannock Borough, and respectfully tenders
his professional services to its citizens.
Office on second floor, formerly occupied by Dr.
Oilman.
6030tf.
PORTRAIT, LANDSCAPE,
A Mil
SSNTHENTAI
IFAINTZNG,
Sty y+". HUG EH, Artist.
Rooms over the Wyoming National bank,in Stark's
Bnck Block,
TUNKHANNOCK, PA.
Life-size Portraits painted from Auibrotypos or
Photographs—Photographs Painted in Oil Colors
All orders for paintings executed according to or
der, or no charge made,
KT Instructions given in Drawing, Sketching, I
Portaait and Landscape Painting, in Oil or water
Colore, and in all branches of the art,
Tunk , July 31, 'g7 -vgaSO-tf.
NEW
TAILORING SHOP
The Subscriber having had a sixteen years prac
lic&l •iptriftoct in cutting and making clothing
now offers his services in this line to the citisens of
■icgOLSoi and vicinity.
Those wishing to get Fits will find his ahop the
fijj* to get them,
-nSG-6mof Jot, R, SatTH
boltonT+ouseT
JIAIIKISHTJKG, PKNNA.
•' BT?H1 "' Ting Ut *'Y purchased the
EH LEE HOUSE property, has already com
mencediuch alterations and improvements as will
render this o d and popular House equal, if not supe
rior, to any Hotel in the City of Harrisburg.
fu iVSr toe * P &tron * is refpect-
GEO. J. BOLTON
WALL'S HOTEL,
Y'HIS establishment has recently been refltted an
* furnished in the latest style. Every attention
wh tt.T TeD V eomfort anJ convenience of those
rno patronize the House.
NORTH BRANCH HOTEL,
MESHOPPEN, WYOMING COUNTY, PA.
w . H. CORTRIGHT, Prop'r
H tbe proprietorship of the above
lender the h' ' ander 'gned will spare no efforts
• •" - 10
w..awiiGßi.
MEANS' HOTEL
'OW" ABJUa T *
B- B. BARTLET,
ILATEEFT,, BBANIA*DHORGA, ETAIAA B Y.
PROPRIETOK.
nd h BE?T ARR??J?D'H U ° n# * LAB9ItST
is fitted up Hi th. "f, ln tbe
Wd no a r . ln °^ m ,® d,rn " nd "nproved style,
(JTTMTHLN KTAH • it | PLOIMAT MD
F v 5 .Vf p r n 8 Ho for all, *
V i, s4l, ly, '
OIIIELL k BAIIATYIE S CQLIMI
A LARGE
STOCK! OF
SPUING
GOODS,
JUST RECEIVED AND
For Sale
CHEJLP,
ALL KINDS OF
Produce
TAKEN IN EXCHANGE
FOR GOODS
AT
1
BUNNELL * BANNATYNETB
Tunkhannock, Pa.
vbnil.
TUNKHANNOCK, WYOMING CO., PA. •• WEDNESDAY, AUG. 7,1867.
INTERESTING TRUTHS.
To slumber in the open slr,
On meadow twenty perches square,
Without a mate the space to share—
That'a roomy!
To stay in Morpheas' arms until
At midnight, pitchy, dark and chill,
Aroused by foot-pad's whistle shrill—
That's gloomy I
To leave at eventide your spouse
At work alone on shirt or blouse ;
Whilst in a club-room you carouse—
That's roviDg !
To sit at home, and there amuse
One whoso companionship you choose.
And would not for a kingdom lose—
That's loving !
To take on balcony your chair
la summer, after Sol's hot glare,
And snitf the perfumed evening air—
That's breezy !
To find, just as your box of snuff
You ope, a very sudden puff
Give to you more tuan quantum, sriff—
That's sueezy!
To make, as Barnums do, untaught,
A princely fortune out of naught,
By catching dupes, yet ne'er caught—
Thai's clever!
To find yourself so very rich,
That in the gutter gold you pitch,
And don't wish any more of "sich"—
That's never!
THE POOR WASHERWOMAN.
"I declare, I Lave a mind to put this
bed quilt into the wash to-day. It does
not really need to go, either ; but 1 think
I'll send it down."
"Why will you put it in, Mary, if it
does not teed to go ?'' asked her good
old aunt in her quiet and expressive way. |
"Why, you see, aunt, we have but a
■mall wash to-day ; so small that Susan
will get through at one o'clock at the la
test, and I shall have to pay her the same
as though she worked till night; 60—"
"Stop a moment, dear," said the old la
dy gently, "stop a moment and think.—
Suppose you were in the same situation
as poor Susan is, obliged, as you tell me,
to toil over the, wash tub six davs qui of,
the sever., for the bare necessaries of life, j
would you r.ot be glad once in a while to ;
get through before nicht, to have a few
hours of day-light to labor for yourself:
and family, or better still, a few hours to
rest ? Mary, dear, it is a hard, hard way
for a woman to earn a living ; begrudge !
not the poor creature an easy day, This
is the tourth dav in succession she has ris- j
on by candle light, and plodded through
the cold here and there to her customers'
houses, and toiled away existence. Let
her go at noon, if 6he gets through ; who
knows but that she- may have come from
the sick bed of some loved one, and counts
the hours, yes, the minutes, till returning
fearing that she may be one too late ? 1
Put it back on the bed, and sit down here,
while I tell you what one poor washerwo- i
man endured because her employer did
as you would to make out the wash." And
the old woman took off her glasses and
wiped away the tears that from some
cause bad gathered in her aged eyes, and
then with a tremulous voice related the
promised story,
"There was never a more blithesome
bridal than that of Ada R. None ever
had higher hopes ; more blissful anticipa
j tions. She married the man of her ehoice,
one of whom any woman might be proud.
Few, few, indeed, had a sunnier life in
prospect than she had.
"And for ten years there fell no shadow
on her path. Her home was one of beau
tv and real comfort; her husband the
nme kind lovmg man as in the days of
courtship; winning laurels every year in
his profession ; adding new comforts to
his home, and new joys to his fireside. —
And besides these blessings God had giv
en another: a little crib stood by the bed
side, its tenant a golden haired baby boy,
the image of its noble father, and dearer
than ought else conld offer.
"But I must not dwell on"those happy
days, my story has to do with other days.
It was with them as it has often been with
others ; just when the cup was the sweet
est it was dashed away. A series of mis
fortimes and reverses occurred very rap
idly, and swept away from them everything
but iove and their babe. Spared to each
other and to that, they bore a brave heart,
and in a distant city began a new fortune.
Well aod strongly did they struggle, and
at length began once more to see the sun
light of prosperity shine upon their home.
But a little while it stayed and then the
shadows fell. The husband sickened and
laid for many months upon a weary couch,
languishing not only with mental and bodi
ly pain, but oftentimes for food and medi
cine. AH that she could do the wife per
formed with a faithful hand. She went
from one thing to another, till at length,
she, who had worn a satin garment on her
bridal day, toiled at the washtub for the
scantiest living. In a dreary winter, long
before light she would rise morning after
morning, and labor for the dear ones of her
only home. Often she had to set off
through the cold deep snow, and grope her
way to kitchens which were sometimes
smoky and gloomy and toil there at rob
bing, rinsing and starching, not unfreqnent
ly wading knee deep into the drifts to hang
out the clothes that froze even ere she had
fastened them to the line* And, when night
came, with her scanty earning she would
grope through the cold and snow to her
oftimea lightlcfls and flreless home, for her
husband was too 6ick to tend even the fire,
or strike a light, And ®b, with what a
" To Speak his Thoughts is Every Freeman's Right. "
shivering heart would she draw near fear
ing she would be too late! It is a fact for
six weeks at one time she never saw the
face of her husband or her child, save by
the lamp light, except on Sabbath. How
glad she would have been to have had,
once in a while, a small washing gathered
for her,"
"One dark, winter morning, as she was
preparing a frugal breakfast, and getting
everything ready beforo &he left, her hus
band called her her to his bedside.
"Ada," said he, almost in a whisper,
"I want you to try and come home early
to-night; be home before the light goes
out; Ada."
"I'll try," answered she, with a choked
utterance.
"Do try, Ada, I have a strange desire
to see your face by day-light. To-day is
Friday; I have not seen it since Sunday.
I must look upon it once again."
"Do you feel worse ?' 6he inquired.
"No, no, I think not, but I want to see
your face once more by sunlight. I can
not wait till Sunday."
Gladly would she have tarried by his
bedside till ihe sunlight had stolen through
the little window; but it might not be. —
Money was wanted, and she must go forth
to labor. She left her husband. She
reached the kitcbeu of her employer, and
with a troubled face, waited for the basket
to be brought. A smile played on her wan
face as she assorted its contents. She
could get through easily by two o'clock ;
yes, and if she hurried, perhaps by one.—
Love and anxiety lent new strength to her
weary arms, and five minutes after tbe
clock struck one, she was just about emp
tying the tubs, when the mistress came in
with a couple of bed quilts, saying;
"As you have a small wash to-day, Ada
I think you may do these yet." After the
mistress had turned her back a cry of ago
ny, wrung from the deepest fountain of the
washer-woman's heart, gushed to her lips.
Smothering it as best she could she set to
work again, and rubbed, rinsed, and hung
out. It was half past three when she start
ed for home, an hour too late!" and the
aged narrator sobbed.
"An hour too late," she continued after
a pause. "Her husband was dying; yes
almost gone! He had strength to whis
per a few words to his half frantic wife, to
tall her, Knot lie lonnrerl to Wilt ,pnrvn her
face; that Tie couTa not seener then, he
lav in the shadow of death. One hour she
pillowed his head upon her suffering heart
and then be was at rest."
"Mary, Mary, dear," and there was a
soul touching emphasis in the aged wo
man's words, "be kind to yonr washer wo
man. Instead of striving to make her
day's work as long as may he, shorten it,
lighten it. Few women will go out wash
ing daily unless their needs are pressing.—
No woman on her bridal day expects to la
bor in that way : and be sure Alary, when
she is constrained to Jo so, it is the last
resort. That poor woman, laboring now
so hard for you, has not always been a wash
er woman. She has seen better days
no doubt, and I know she has passed thro'
terrible trials, too. I can read ber story in
her pale face. Be kind to her; pay her
what she asks, and let her go home as early
as possible,
"You have finished in good time to-day
Susan," said Mrs. M., as the washer woman
with her old cloak and hood on, entered
the pleasant room to get the money she
had earned.
"Yes, ma'am I have; and my heart, ma'-
am, is relieved of a heavy load, I was to
afraid 1 should be kept till uighL and I am
needed at home."
"Is there sickness there ?" said the aunt
Tears gushed to the woman's eyes as she
answered; "Ah, ma'am ! I left my baby
almost dead this morning; he will be quite
so to morrow. I know it, 1 have seen it
too many times ; and none but a child of
nine years to attend to bim. Oh, 1 must
go, and quickly !"
And, grasping the money she had toiled
for, while her baby was dying, she hurried
to her dreary home. Shortly after thay
followed her; the young wife who bad
never known sonow and the aged matron
whose hair was white with trouble ; fol
lowed her to her home 1 She was not
too late. The little dying boy knew his
mother. But at midnight ho died, and
and then kind hands took from the mother
the lifeless form, closed the
closed the bright eyes, straightened the
tiny limbs, bathed the cold clay, and fold
ed about it the pure white shroud; and
did more; they gave what tbe poor so sel
dom have, time to weep.
"Oh, Aunt," said Mrs. M., with tears in
her eyes, "if my heart blesses yoa how
much more must poor Susan's. Had it
not been for you she would have been too
late. It has been a sad but a holy lesson.
I shall always be kind to the poor washer
woman. But, aunt, was the story you
told me a true one, all true I mean ?"
"The reality of that story whitened this
head when it had sean but thirty summers,
and the memory of it has been one of my
keenest sorrows. It is not strange, there
fore that I should*pity the poor, washerwo
man ?'
era committee of the Illinois Legisla
ture visited the Inßane Asylnm at Jackson
ville, during the last session of the Legis
lature. When the committee was going
through the bnilding, an insane man, who
had evideutly boon something of a politi
cian, approached one of the legislators and
said ; "Ah, how do you do, sir ? You got
elected at last, didn,t you 1" Tbe honora
ble drew himself up with a consequential
and patronizing air, and said , "Oh yes, I
got elected." The crazy man, with a grave
look replied: "Yes, you did, A great
many fools get elected now."
Fou THE GIRLS-IIOW TO GKT A UUSBAIVD
—From an excellent communication pub
lished in the Columbus (Miss.) of June 8.
we copy the following "expressly for the
girls
lieing old, and therefore allowed license
for teasing the girls on matrimonial sub
jects, I consult them about their future
prospects often, and find that the opinion
obtains with them, that the young men
were never so slow in proposing as in these
days ; which we must admit, gives them a
good, not to say, all-powerful reason for not
taking a husband. Now, young ladies, the
whole secret with nine-tenths of you, of not
being able to get off your parent's hand,is
simply this , you don't know how lo work.
You cau't keep house.
You can't make a pair of breeches.—
You can't tell, for tho life of you, the dif
ference between bran and shorts, or which
cow gives buttermilk. The young men gen
erally came out of the war "with the skin
of their teeth,' with no fortune, I might say
but their wardrobes of gray and their grey
canteens, and to marry with them now, rest
assured, relates more to making a living
with the assistance of a loving industrious
helpmate, than indulging in opera music,
moonshine and poetry. Do yoa know
what they say of one of your butterfly
young ladies who has held in the parlor en
gaged by the hour listening to "elegant
nothings !" Nineteen times out of twenty
it is this—"Well, she is all right for an
evening's entertainment, hut she will not
make a good wife ?"
There if no possible objections to the ac
complishments of music, painting and the
like, as such, but the idea is to set these
parlor amusements aside for the period
when the stern duties of married life call
for your practical knowledge. Show the
young men that yon can do your part of
double business ; that you can cook a meal's
victuals on a pinch, that you can sweep up
and dust and darn old stockings, and save
a penny toward an accumulated pound
that you will not be a dead expense to him
through life. Believe me young friends,
as many true, heroic, womanly hearts beat
over household duties, as flutter beneath
the soft light of a parlor chandalier.
Your kiss is just as sweet, your smiles just
as bright, your heart as happy and tender,
after a day's exertion in a sphere worthy
Miswf
ambition to dt your part in life ; cultivate
industrial habits, and let the parlor accom
plishments I have roughly enumerated go
to thunder. It is astonishing how soon a
domestic young lady is found out and ap
preciated. It is because she is such a rare
exception to the general rule-
CHURCH MUSIC.
God has established so intimately this
law of nature, that "out of the Heart the
mouth speaketh." that it is impossible that
music and devotion can be divorced. The
melody which the heart makes in itself,
strives and rushes to the utterance of the
lips; and the sweet repose of the soul, in
its rapt communion with God, is nursed
by the harmonies which are going on, day
and night, around the throne of God; where
the sea of uplifted countenances reflects the
light of His countenance, and ten '.housand
times ten thousand tongues utter the vol
umed music that bursts from as many
adoring hearts. No scene on eaith can
as much resemble this, as a whole congre
gation, lifted np on their feet, and joining
in one chorus of musical worship. This
is the only true conception of ecclesiastical
music; and when this is realized in prac
tice, one most important element is gained
of the beauty of holiness.
In order to do this, the melodies of the
Church should be simple; to bespeak
those feelings oi devotion which are among
tho simplest of the humau breast. Its
harmonies should be broad and grand, to
embrace the whole soul, and bear it strong
ly up. Its symphonies should be short
and easy; its voluntaries fitted to tbe
character of the occasion, aud the spirit
of the sermon. There is no occasion in
which human art should so studiously
conceal itself, and become the secret niis
trant of heaven, as in the music of religious
pathos, penitence and praise. When these
requisites are met, the music oftlu Church
become what it ought to be—congrega
tional—the music of the whole—beautiful
to the ear, and to the soul.
Hut these requisites are too often scorn
ed by the ambition of modern act. Tbe
taste that is bred at operas and concerts
soon learns to discredit the legitimate char
acter of ecclesiastical compositions, and
craves the higher excitement of music;—
its unusual harmonics, itk minuto beauties,
its exquisite detail. It grows to love the
art for its own sake ; and to admire the
performance, instead of feeling its design.
When this occurs, the music becomes a
mere exhibition ; it is delegated, as a work
to a few ; and tbe congregation are listen
ers, instead of worshippers. Here are
two essential absurdities—substituting the
the means for the end, and making that
which is beautiful in itself offensive by be
ing out of place. So far as this practice
prevails, it perverts this beautiful part of
sacred worship, and spoils it of all the
beauty of holines. — A. H. Vinton's ser
mons.
To be a Democrat is to be a lover
and supporter of good government, an en
emy anarchy, and a foe of despotisms
Democrats stand by the rights of all nun
and recognize the distinction of races, as
made by tbe Creator of all.
Before the execution of Maximilian, Me
ia and Eirimon, Mejia's wife ran distract
edly through the streets, carrying a new"
born babe, ,
CURIOUS ANTICS 07 MRS. SCRUG
GINS' COW.
"We use to keep a cow when we,
lived in Cincinnatter. And, oh massy
sich a cow I She nsed to come up as reg
lar to ber milk as clock-work. She d
knock a the gate with her boms jest as
sensible as any other hnman critter. Her
name was Rose. I never knowed how
she got that name, for the was black as a
kittle. Well, one day Rose got sick and
wouldn't eat nothin, poor thing 1 and a
day or two arter she died; I rally do be
believe I cried when that poor critter was
gone. Well, we went a little spell with
out a cow; but I told Mr. Scriggins it
wouldn't do no way nor no how, for have
another cow we must: and he gin in.—
Whenever I said must, Mr. Scruggins
knowed I meant it. Well, a few days ar
ter he cum home with the finest eow and
young calf you ever seed. He gin thirty
dollars for her and the calf, and two levies
to a man to help bring her hum. Well,
they driv her into the back yard, and Mr.
Scruggins told me to cum out and see her,
and I did ; and I went up to her jest as I
used to did to Rose ; and when I said
'Poor Sukey,' would you believe it, she
kicked me right in the fore part of the
back. Her foot cotched into my dress,
bran new dress tue, cost two levies a yard,
and she took a levy's worth right out, jest
as clean as the back of my hand, I screach
ed right on, and Mr. Scrnggins coched
me as I was droppin—l wasn't quite as
heavy then as I am now—and he carried
me to the door, and 1 went in and sot
down. I felt kind o' faintish, I was so
'bominably skeered. Mr. Scruggins said
he'd lam her better manners, so he picked
up the poker and went out. But I hadn't
hardly begun to git a little strengthened
up, afore in rushed my dear husband, flour
ishing the poker, and that wicious cow ar
ter him, with her head down and tail up,
like all mad. Mr. Scruggins jumped into
the room ; and afore he had time to turn
round and shut the door, that desp'rate
cow was in tue. Mr. Scruggins got up oq
the dining table, I run into tbe parlor.
I thought I'd be safe there, but 1 was
skeered so bad that I forgot to shet the
door, and, after hooking over tho din
ing table and rolling Mr. Scruggins off, in
she walked into the parlor, shaking her
head, jest as mnch as to say. "I'll give
you A touch now " T J*mr*c<l on A chftir,
but thinking that wanT bigb enough, I got
one foot on tbe brass knob of the Franklin
stove, and put the other on the mantle
piece. You ought to have seen that cow
in onr parlor. She looked all round as if
she was 'mazed. At last she looked into
the looking-glass, and thought she see an
other cow exhibiting passion, like herself.
She shuck her head and pawed the carpet,
and so did her reflection, and, would you
believe it; the awful brute went right into
ray looking-glass! Well, then I boo-ood
right ont. I 'spoße she thought she heard
her calf, for she poked her head into Mr.
Scruggins' book case—no doubt she smelt
the calfskin covers. All this time I was
gitting agonized. The brass knob on tbe
stove got so hot that I had to sit on the
narrow mantle-piece and hold on to noth
in'. I dassint move, for fear I'd slip off.
Mr. Scruggins come round to the front
door, but it was locked, and then be cam
to the window and opened iL I jumped
down and run for tbe window, and hadn't
more than got my head out afore I beanl
that critter comin' arter me, Gracious,
but I was in a hurry. More haste less
speed, always; for the more I tried to
climb quick, the longer it took me ; and,
would you believe it? just as I got ready
to jump down, that brute of a cow cotch
ed me behind, and turned me clean over
and over and over clean out of the win
dow. Well, when I got right side, (as
they put looking glass boxes,) I looked up
to the window, and there stood that cow,
with her head between the red and white
curtains, and with another piece of my
dress dangling on her horns. Well, hus
band and ine was jest starting for the little
alley that run alongside of the Loose,
when that cow gin a bcwl, and out of tbe
window she come, whiski.V her tail about.
It cotched on fire in the Franklin stove,
and it served her right. Mr. Scruggins
and me run into the aily in such haste we
got wedged fast. Husband tried to get
B head, but I'd been in tbe rear long enough
and I wouldn't let him. And, would you
believe it ] that dreadful cow no sooner
seen us in the alley, when she made a
dash. But, thank goodness, she stuck fast
tue. Husband tried the gate, but that
was fast, and there was nobody inside the
houso to opeD iL Mr. Scruggins wanted
to climb over and unbolt it, but I wouldn't
let him. I wasn't going to be left alone
agin with that desp'rate cow. if she was
fast; and I made him help mo over the
gate. Ah, dear! climbing a high gate,
when you are skeered by a cow, is a dread
ful thing, and I know it! Well, I got
over, let husband in, and tben it took him
and me, and four other neighbors, to git
that dreadful critter out of the alley.—
She bellowed and kicked, and her calf bel
lowed to her, and she bawled back again ;
but we got her out at last, and sich a time,
ah deat 1
"I bad enough of her. Husband sold
her tor S2O the next day. It cost him sev
enty cents to git her to market; and when
he tried to pass one of the $5 bills be got,
would yon believe it ? the nasty rag was a
counterfeit. Mr. Scruggins said to his dy
ing day that he believed the brother of the
man that sold him that cow bought it baek
again, I believe it helped to worry my
poor husband to death. Ah, child, yon
better believe I know what cows is."
The old lady's agitation was so great at
this point of tbe story, she dropped a stitch
| in her knitting,
TERMS, fa.oo Per. AVITtM, in Ad-raaoo.
fJijjf auto ftjier&ijse.
OWED TO PBIKTEBB.
When inkless printers stoop to credit.
And find too Iste that men wont pay
What ehsrm etn soothe the Scribes wbo edi 17
Whet art can wash the debt my 7
The only art their case to better,
To briog the money when 'tis due,
To gl>e repentance to the debtor,
And wring the pocket— is to sue.
-
'•I'LL MENTION rr TO HIM."—TWO young
lawyers, Archy Brown and Thoe. Jones, were
fond of dropping into Mr. Smith's parlor and
spending an hour or two with his
Mary. One erening, when Brown thrfMaty
had discussed almost every topic, Brown sud
denly and in his sweetest tones strode oot as
follows :
"Do yon think, Mary, yon oonld leave fk
ther and mother, this pleasant home, ail its
ease and comforts, emigrant to the far Weak
with a young lawyer, who baa little besides
his profession to depend upon, and with him
find a new home, which it abonld be yonr
joint dutv to beautify and make beaaliful and
happy like this 7"
Dropping her head softly on his shoulder,
she whispered:
"I think I coold, Archie." "
"Well," said he, "there is Tom Jones who
is going to emigrate, and wanU to get a wife j
I'll mention it to htm." Indignantly aba re
plied, "you need not trouble yourself."
A FEW HARD THINGS Experience and
observation have taoght men that it is:
Hard to quit chewing tobacco.
Hard to keep from eating to mad*.
Hard to drink liquor and not be intemper
ate.
Hard to pay our debts.
Hard to resist temptation.
Hard to believe a man yon know to bt n
liar.
Hard to turn the other cheek when yon are
struck. ,
Hard to borrow money from friends whey
Hard to love our enemies.
WELL Put IN. —At Adams' Eaprets Office
in Philadelphia, Tuesday, directed to the Uni
ted States Hotel, Atlantic City, was a box
made cf latch wood, light almost as pasteboard
tbns tenderly inscribed :
" TO THE EXPRESS AGENT.
"This package contains a dock of a bonnet:
Expressman, I pray you, place nothing upoa
it.
'Tisjinade of a ribbOD, a straw and a feather,
The whole with a postage stamp fastened to
gether.
Its owner, a damsel, is youthful and
fair,
But, like Flora MTlimsy, has nothing
to wear'
Beware, then, expressman! I warn yon take
beed,
And forward this bonnel with ears and with
speed." 1 •
An unmitigated wretch complies tiro fob
lowing memoranda for young ladies : "Hart
a good piano or none, Be sure to bam *
'dreadful cold' when asked to 'favor the com
paqy.' -Cry at a wedding, but don't faint.
Always scream at a spider. Never leave
your curl papers in the drawing room. Drop
your handkerchief when yon am going to
faint. Mind yon are 'engaged' if yon danfk
like your partner. Abjure ringlets on a wet
day. Never faint unleea it ia convenient 4a
fall into the arms of the young gentleman yon
love. Remembcc, it ia vulgar in the extreme
to know what your mother ia going to have
for dinner. When you go aboppjng be runs
to take your ma along to carry the handles M
" SAM," said a terrible infant at breakfast
table, a few mornings since, to a lovelorn
swain, "can fishes run ; they twim by using
their fins end tails." "Well, then, what did
Cousin Sophie mean when she said you look
ed in the morning like the last run of shad ?"
ll is believed that when Cousin Sophia
caught that "terrible infant" alone, her con.
dtict toward him was not caressing.
A young gentleman named Torn, recently
married hia cousin of the same name. When
intetrogated as to why he did so, be replied
that it had always been a maxim of his that
one "one good turn deserved another," and
he had acted accordingly.
A pert yonng lady was walking one morn
ing on the Steyne, at Brighton, when encoun
tered the celebrated Wilkes. 'You see,' ob
served the lady, 'I am come oat for a tittle
suit aod air.' 'Yau had better madam, get a
little husband first.'
lied noses are light-houses to warn ftps
gers%t tho sea of lije off the coast of Malaga,
Jamaica, Santa Crux and Holland.
Hood's famous poem, the " Song of the
Shirt," origioelly bed the title "Tele of the
Shirt." Before the poem wee published, its
author aaw something ludicrous in his title
end so changed it to its prases* *■.
The road ambition travels is too narrow for
friendship, too crooked for too fogged
for honeaty, aod too dark for science.
NO. 1, .