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A FAMILY NEWSPAPERS _____
— 727-7:- - - -- ••:.;__ - _._ I_
TT ril Ili • -
riellOteb to Nctuc, Literature, lip clan), Zama
VOLUME V.
THE LEHIGH REGISTER,
As published in the Borough qf Allentow . n, Lehigh
County, l'a.,every Thurnloy
)11Y AIUGIJSTIP; L. MIME,
At Rl 50 per annum, payable in advance, and
K2OO if not paid until the end of the year. No
paper discontinued, until all arrearages are paid
except at the option of the proprietor.
ADVERTISEMENTS, making not more than one
square, will be inserted three times for one dollar
and for every subsequent inset lion t wetityfive
scents. Larger advertisements, chargd in the
'same proportion. Those not exceeding ten lines
will be charged seventy•five cents, and those
making six lines or less, three insertions for 50
cents.
o;r'A liberal deduction will be made to those
who advertise by the year.
rir Office in Hamilton St., one dooEast
the German Reformed Church, ncarrly
opposite the "Friedensbothe (Vice."
.1 Cll.l.1 4 6 E
IN FREY'S
LiN e, staliii six mewl
JACOB J. STINE,
RESPECTFULLY informs . his friends and
the public in general, that he has lately pur
chased the Livery Establishment of Major
William fry, and continues the Livery bu
siness in all its various branches in the rear
of the German Reformed Church lot, (en
trance by Church alley from East Hamilton
street) where he is prepared to accommo
date all who wish Horses and Vehicles, at
the shortest notice and on reasonable terms.
He has furnished himself with a new lot
of horses, and his vehicles, have undergone
a thorough repair, which places him into a
position of keeping the very
model of a
Livery Stable,
and hiring out no broken-down, balky, run
away, ring-boned, spavined or diseased hor
t.es, but keeping the right kind of stock,
which can travel well, and do credit to his
establishment. His carriages and vehicles
of every description will always be kept
clean and in good order.
All orders left at the office in the stable
will be punctually attended to. •
Large parties can be accommodated with
omnibusses and carriages on reasonable
terms..
By punctual attendance to business. he
expects to merit and receive a reasonable
share of public patronage.
July 24
PROCLAMATION.
WHEREAS, the Hon. J. Pringle Jones
President of the several Courts of Common
Pleas of the Third Judicial District, compo
sed of the 'counties of Northampton and Le
ligh, State of Pennsylvania, and Justice
of the several Courts of Oyer and Terminer
and general Jail delivery, and Peter Haas,
and John F. Ruhe, Esqrs., Judges of the
Courts of Oyer and Terminer and general
Jail delivery, for the trial of all . capital of
fenders in the said county of Lehigh. By
their precepts to me directed, have ordered
the court of Oyer and Terminer and Gene
rid Jail Delivery, to be holden at Allentown
county of Lehigh, on the
First Monday in Srptrmbrr, ISSI,
which is the Ist day of said month, and
will continue one week.
NOTICE is therefore hereby given to the
Justices of the Peace and Constables of the
county of Lehigh, that they are by the said
precepts commanded to be there at 10 o'clock
in the forenoon, of said day, with their rolls,
records, inquisitions, examinations, and all
other remembrances, to do these things
which to their offices appertain to be done,
and all those who are bound by recognizan
es to pros e cute against the prisoners that
•are or then shall be in the jail of said coun
ty of Lehigh, are to be then and there to
prosecute 'them as shall be just.
Given under my hand in Allentown, the
Ist day of August, in the year of our Lord
'one thousand eight hundred and fifty one.
God ;aye the Commonivealth.
. .
OSEPH F. NEWHARD, Sher
Sheriff's Office Allentown,
August 7, 16 . 51. S
N. B. Magistrates are desired to forward
their returns in criminalcases to the Deputy
Attorney General at once, and to request
prosecutors to call at his office before court,
and thus afford sufficient time to prepare the
indictments, and other matters necessary for
trial. The amount of unsettled business
renders this at Present absolutely necessary.
August 7. •
BUILDERS:
31141®M =WM at
The undersigned will take orders for
Window.glass, of all sizes and of every
quality, at a discount of 40 per cent. on the
orizinal manufacturers prices.
Il e Will also take orders for Cumberland
pails at:s3,o per keg.
ii)leztowp, July 10.
[From the Pictorial Drawing Room Companion.]
Love grew pout) , all it once,
And he wished his bands were riven;
Wisdom checked him fora dunce,
That his short wings sought the heaven.
I U-3rn
Scicctionci.
It was night on the battle field.of Cerro
Gordo! The thundering artillery, with its
dirge-like echo, had long since ceased, and
deathly silense reigned where, a few hours
before, mortal waged against mortal in dead
ly, combat—where wild despair reigned in
every heart, and death counted his victims
in direful numbers. The moon feebly mov
ed among the ominous clouds that shrouded
the ice-peaked Orizaba ; and as its pale rays
fell on that fated field, what a scene ofhor
ror it dimly lighted ! Proud and bold men
who, in the morning walked forth with all
their strength and grentneili, were now writh
ing, in the cold arms of death. The cow
ardly and effeminate, who were almost forc
ed to join the deadly combat, were now pe
teously calling on their dying comrades for
a draught of water to assuage their feverish
thirst. En the dim darkness, black figures
tvero moving among the dead, who, were it
not for their human forms, might have been
mistaken for fiendish spirits, escaped from
the infernal regions, to Mild their midnight
revel where Pluto himself would scarcely
dare appear. But Pluto could not yet clam
them as his, or they were guerillas, and
their hellish occupation to rob the dead and
dying. But momentary darkness no lon
ger concealed the deeds of these fiends in
human form, for the moon finally sailed tri
umphantly above the dark mass of clouds
through which it had long struggled ; and,
casting d flood of white light over this great
death bed, revealed another scene.
From beneath the shade ola copswoorl
slowly emerged the form of a soldier—slow
ly, for he was wounded. The bandage
around his left limb, and a deep gash on his
temple, showed he had been where the bat
tle was most fierce and that death had been
at his side dealing his fatal blows. Al
though wounded and sufferin,g, his step was
still proud, and in his very gait might be
rend the noble bearing of a haughty spirit.
The full Mexican uniform well became his
stately figure, and ns he stooped to fill his
flask at a small rivulet, the rays of the moon
fell full upon his face; a face where was
written in legible characters, the history of
a soul that scorne to be conquered ; five
J. B. MOSER.
¶-4w
poetical Department.
Past and Present
1 remember, 1 remember,
0, how. can I forget ,
The hours when firm we roamed together,
The days when first we met?
The promptings of my boyish passion,
The throbbings of my heart,
Untortured to the worrs cold fashion,
It knew no fickle art.
I remember, I remember,
•
0, never to forget,
Each look of kind and dear assurance
That on thy fair brow set.
Elysian moments, quickly fleeting.
All to sweet, too dear to last ;
Those moments now my soul is greeting,
Those stars ofjoy that light the past.
I remember, I remember,
0, let me not forget,
How much of pain there is and sorrow.
Our saddened thoughts to whet.
But, though with joy the past is teeming,
Smiles there are fur us to•day;
While sunny skies are o'er us beaming,
Let cankering sorrow find no sway:
[From the Home Journal.)
Love and Wisdom
Love went forth one dewy morn,
With a figure by his side ;
He, of smiles and roses born,
She, a sober, earnest guide.
With his quiver, on he sped,
Holding Wisdom by the hand,
Where the softening shadows led,
And the fragrant breezes fanned
Weary grew his little feet,
And he spread his glossy wings,
Fancying he thus should meet
Angels, with their shadowings.
Wisdom still his fingers pressed,
And where blossoms scent the sky,
Bade him there his limbs to rest,
I\or again attempt to fly.
So she fled his tiny grasp,
While amid sweet buds he pined
Ever for a seraph clasp,
That he dreamed the earth enshrined
Gathering up the crushed flowers, near,
Wept he tears of eloquence;
And, in search of angels here,
Ile leas wandered ever since.
SILVERI° VELEZ.
A TALI: or TUN MEXICIN
'2griculturc, tl
I=
ALLENTOWN, LEHIGH COUNTY, PA., AUGUST 28, 1851.
and independ cut as the proud eagle that
soared from the neighboring peaks, who,
when his enemy approaches, plumes his
wings to soar but higher. A mournful,
agonizing groan reached his ear ; he gras
ped his flask more firmly and hurriedly re
traced his steps. It was his comrade, his
bosom friend ; as he rusted his head on his
arm, and cooled his parched lips with
water, a blessing fell from the lips of the
dying soldier.
That day Silverio Velez had seen death
'in its most frightful form. One brave form
after another had been cut down at his side,
but their dying breath was pointed with a
horrid curse. Ile had seen bold officers
reel front their steeds, and their last words
were to rally their comrades ; but here, on
his bosom, rested his only friend. The on—
ly one that had power to soften his inflexi
ble spirit ; and protect him. Once more he
attempted to speak. Silverio bunt low, and
these burning words sunk deep in his heart.
"Love and protect your mother, for she
is now your only friend."
When grief takes hold of the strong mind,
it is like the raging torrent sweeping every
thing in its onward course ; that heeds not
the feeble barriers of men, but plunges on
until lost in the ocean of despair.
It was a fearful time for the proud mind
of Silverio Velez. The lifeless form of his
comrade was close to his heart ; its gleam
ing eyes were fearfully fixed upon him.—
The clotted hair lay in wild disorder on
that nobly brow, and the firm set teeth
showed that death had struggled hard to ob
tain its victim. Silverio pressed him with
an iron grasp to his heart, and sent forth a
fearful shriek—a shriek of wild despair.
I lark !.it is a strange echo for this terrific
place—an echo ; no, it is the voice of a fe
male, and in a moment the form of , his
mother is at his side ; such a mother as
many a son would be proud to love and pro
tect. Silverio gifting to his feet, for the
voice of his mother sounded on his ear like
music from a better land. Ibt siezed her
hand, and wish a fervor pressed it 'to 'his
lips.
.'Loved mother, why here nmong the
(lead and dying ; such scenes makes stout
hearts shrink ?"
"My son, lam in search of you. Jalapa's
walls could enclose me no longer ; you are
wounded and must not remain here to die.
"On this field braver hearts than mine
have ceased to beat. Listen !it is St. Ma
ry's bell fur vespers ; hasten to t h e convent,
and 1 will follow when I have paid the last
tribute to Pedro Ruiz."
Ile pressed her hand once more to his
lips, then placed her in her carriage on the
road to St. Maw's. Silverio fixed, his (lark
and tearless eyes resting on the motionless
form before him.
Well has it been said, that there is no
grief like that which does not speak. The
mournful sound of the convent • cell was
echoed, and re-echoed, through the neigh
boring mountains. It fell on the agonized
heart of Silverio, like a mournful requiem
for the souls of the blest; and as the laSt
note was lost among the hills, he was calm,
fearfully calm ; and wrapping his cloak
around the corpse, ho took a long sad look
of that ghastly face, then sorrowfully pro
ceeded to bury the dead. With much ex-'
ertioti he dug a shallow grave, and covered
Peteo Ruiz with the cold turf of the hill.
side. Ile then took the nearest mountain
path that led to St. Mary's, pulled his black
Cap firmly over his brow, and strode slowly
on, wrapped in the deepest sadness of heart.
The thick black clouds tlip , had long been
lowering over the frozen peak's 'of Orizaba
Nevada, now loomed up high above the lior
rizon, and cast their broad shadows on the
rugged mountains. A fearful storm was
approaching. The distant roaring of the
wind, mingled with the piercjeg Cry of the
vulture, produced music so . dissonant, that
nothing could imitate save the union of
Heaven's sublimest notes with the grating
and discordant sounds of Earth's wildest
musician. The Heavens were gathering
together their united powers to give veal()
theii rage in a terrible tempest. Yet Silve
verio heeded not this foreboding language ;
but as he gained the summit of a precipi
tious hill, turned to take a parting look of
the field 'where so many of his brave coun
try men were embraced in the arms of death
with the green turf for their pillows and
winding sheet, and the ravenous birds to
sing their burial dirge. A dismal land
scape was before him. In the back grounds
lay huge mountains stretching their tops far
up into the heavens, as if to embrace the
still blacker clouds that were driven about
by the approaching storm. Never was a
range of hills, on one of which, Silverio fix
ed his tnomnftil gaze. .
11l fated hill; what tongue will describe
that terrible conflict? what pencil paint that
Unearthly scene. And where is die heart
can realize such agony ? that which wres
ted many a heaven—born soul from its un
worthy keeper. May thy proud and lofty
brow be long reared to heaven as a feeble
monument to the eons of Mexico that, were
willingly sacraficed on this the alter of their
country.
A sudden blast of the gathered tempest
ended his short prayer ; the wind and Moira
c Diffusion of thief
swept by- him, precipitating in the vale be
neath trees and rocks in wild confusion.—
This with the lightning's glare, and the ar
tillery of heaven's echoing notes, aroused
him from his insensibility : but he awoke
only to stare grim death in the face. Ills
wounded and swollen limb refused to sup
port him longer; his brain was reeling with
a luverish dream. A low tree stood before
him, extended as if to receive him ; he rush-
ed forward and siezed its trunk, it, reeled
and rocked in the storm, but Silverio heed
ed it not ; reason was dethroned and des
potic madness now held the supire.
It was vespers a t St. Ala ry's ; a solemn
awe rested on that "consecrated pile," while
there arose on the gentle evening breeze
the holy incense of prayer. Yet within
those massive walls there was none to wel
come ; prayer was a stranger.
In a lonely apartment on a low couch lay
Silverio: His emaciated 'countenance and
rolling eyes, indicated that fever !mil mad
ness were there ; as the brains of the roll
ing sun cast a higher shadow into the room,
he turned and with a vacant look gazed at
the ceiling, as if some image hovered near.
Then seizing a goblet at his bedside,. he
hurled it with a giant's strength where his
eves had been fixed.
"Death, thou fell, inhuman monster, come
not here; for with this mighty arm will I
dash thee.frorn existance !"
These words'had scarcely escaped hiin,
ere a gentle hand was laid on his arm and
a sweet voice half in commanding and half
soothing tone, fell on his car. Silverio, calm
yourself. it is not death you see, but a vain
figure of your own conceiving. At this he
made a plunge for the hand, but it eluded
his grasp, and his arm fell powerless at his
side. A low groan escaped him, and he
was lost in sleep. IV ben he awoke if was
midnight, andlor the first time since that
fearful night, was he conscious of his situa
tion. lie stared wildly around, if possible
to tell where he was. The room was small
and very scantily furnished , but by the
faint flicker of a.wax taper, he saw at the ex
tremity of the room a figure of the Virgin ;
before it kneeled the slight form of a female.
Iler position indicated the most fervent
devotion, while in a low musical voice she
breathed forth her soul in prayer; long and
fervently did she pray for hint that was af
flicted, that his mind might be prepared for
the dreadful news that awaited him.
Silverio feared to break the heavenly
spell. His soul was thrilled with strange
music ; every note sinking - deep and deeper
into his heart.
But what did he hen r ? dreadful news
awaited him ! was there yet another cup
that he must taste to the dregs? He tried
to speak and learn the worst ; he turned his
head slightly, when a darting pain brought
from his lips an exclamation. She arose
and cautiously approached his bed ; one
glance told that reason had returned, if but
for a moment. Then seemingly concions of
what she had said, returned to the side of
the virgin.
Silverio closed his eyes ; was not this
one of his feverish dreams, the work of his
imagination ; or was it real. "Dreadful
news ! what is it ; tell me, 0 thou minister
of Heaven !"
Minoa came to his bedside and said, "Be.
quiet and compose .yourself, if you value
your life. I will retire, when the Abbess
will come, and tell you all."
"The Abbess, no ! I'll not hear a word
from her—tell me from those sweet lips, it
cannot be the news from such a source.—
Sorrowitself would lose its dreadful stin,
and `become—"
"blush !" said Minoa,"l must leave you,"
and as she glided quickly out of the room
the mournful notes of his voice still rung in
her ear • , while her heart bent to strange
music, but she soon hushed its wild throb
bingrs, for what has caused it ? the half con
cious words of a brain that still wandered.
Silveri° was alone, he attempted to raise
and follow the receding foatsteps, but he fell
back weak and exhausted ; then, for the
first time, he felt his weakness and depen
dence—his heart was subdued, his proud
and lofty spirit humbled. And as the Ab
bess noiselessly approached his bed, he ex- ,
tended his hand and said, "May the great
God of the church bless you for all your
I. ind ness."
"Ileaven be praised for restoring again
your reason, and now you must compose
yourself tosleep, for you have suflered long
and much."
~ One more favor grant, and I will die
with a murmur. Who was 'that beautiful
being that just left me ?"
“Ninon her guardian's bride ! never, un
less she loves. , -•you Must not say more to
night. 0, my Mother, where is she ? tell
me but where she is, and 1 will go."
"She cannot come to. night ; but I will
sent the old confessor to stay With you un
til morning."
Before lie could say more she was gone.
Silverio slept not. /lid fever yet raged.
At intervals over his frame a sudden chill
ness would come, then he would start from
his couch, and scorn the feeble assistance the
old confessor offered—then, tired and
.ex
!mated, would sink back on his pillow, and
with a faint smile of gratitude receive from
E
orma
lIIM
the hands of the confessor the healing
draught. Anon before his eyes would stand
his mother, in all her stately beauty, but on
her brow rested a frown, a fearful look, that
a demon might envy ; suddenly her costly
robes were. changed the unassuming garb
of the lovely Minoa, but she was not alone,
at her side stood Pedro Ruiz, a fearful sight.
A crimson stream was issuing from the
wound on his brow and noiselessly trickling
down his already clotted garments ; and in
feverish madness wildly called on the con
fessor riot to join them in marriage, for Pe
dro was a dying man. Dead ! for he him
self had burried him.
Morning came and the fever's rage had
passed.away. The good abbess came and
placed her hand kindly on his brow ; that
hand he hurl felt its touch before. Ile open
ed his liquid eyes, but it was not her, and
,he murmured, "It was a dream—an angel
that I shall never see again."
Long were the days spent by Silverio in
recovering, for fever and the agonizing tor
ture of his broken limb, : had brought him
very low. The kind abtess and old confes•
sor were constantly at his bed-side to ad
minister to his every want. But what now
was life to him, for as soon as he was able,
they had told him his mother was dead ;
that in the storm of that dreadful night her
carriage was thrown from a bridge and the
servant alone escaped to call assistance, but
it came to late ; morning dawned before they
found her body, far down the raging stream.
his soul ‘vas sick; Pedro and his moth-
er was dead, yet he could not die. News
came constantly that his countrymen had
been defeated, that fields were strewn with
the dead and dying of his brothers, yet he
could not be at their side :o share their fate.
At times a flood of sunshine would light his
gloomy soul, making his henry heart bound
with its former gladness. 'Twas the image
of a midnight dream. A beautiful image
that stood ut his bed-side—knelt at the vir
gin and preyed ;0, pray for him, _There
was sweet pleasure in the thought, yet why
should he dwell upon it, it was but a dream.
A fairy imagination wafted through the
brain : yet he would stroll over the beauti
ful vale and around the convent, and dwell
upon the thought until with a fevered brain
and tottering step he would return again
sorrowing to the convent.
It was beautiful sunset. The western hills
were environed in a sea of golden light,
with a few faint rays strugling in the vale
to be mournfully reflected by the high dark
walls of - the convent. Silveri° slowly
walked from the ponderous gate and choose
a narrow path that led to the wood farther
than he had dared to go. He walked on,
thinking of the battle field. the interest of
his country and his own glory. He longed
to -resume his place in. the army, still he was
scarcely yet able to bear his sword. Bitter
dispondency sunk deep in his heart, and
he sat down on a mossy seat to ceinmnne
with the sadness that was fast consuming
his soul. Ile thought of his mother who
had left herquite home in Jalappn, to search
fur hint among the dead ; and of her dread
ful death. Then of his sickness in that dis
mal room, that midnight dream, the beauti
ful spirit kneeling at the Virgin- Clod
if it was real, then would life be sweet, if
1 could but win her.'.'
A gentle hand touched his shoulder, he
turned and it was her. lie throw himself
at her feet, and in an attitude of worship
exclaimed.
"Thou spirit from heaven, listen to my
vow. No other god will I worship but thee.
No other idol shall this heart ever know.-
13e thou of heaven or earth, [ will live but
for a smile from thee."
.Rise, noble Silverio." said Minoa, •''our
brain still wanders Listen, the sun has long
since sunk behind the hills, the ground is
already damp with falling devel rise and
follow me to the convent, it is not yet safe
for you to stroll so far."
"Be thou only my guide, and I will follow
through the deepest gulf of sorrow."
"Listen, and I will pilot you. A black
and wicked soul, one staunched in crime
has just. been summoned to the bar of God.
The faint light that glimmers in yonder but
sits at the head of the body, the keeper of
that soul. Ile was my guardian, and for
the last month have [ watched his sufferings.
The night of the battle of Cerro Gordo, he
received his death wound, and soon after
sent for me to attend him in his dying hours.
His heart was seared with the foulest deeds,
yet there remained one faint ray of its ori
ginal beauty, and on me that was directed.
fie prayed to live for my sake, but just heav
en would brook no longer such wickedness,
and wrested him from earth that his fiend
ish plans might not be executed." •
"0 blessed i 1 inoa, it. wasnot then a dream!
It was no angel that I might not nee again !
but n beautiful being of earth and can I hope
to call her mine."
said Nlinoa,"for here comes the
old father to open the gate."
Alinoa sought her lonely cell and tried in
vain to quite the stuggle in her bosout.
She was weary . with long watching ; n long
month had passed with no congenial spirit
near to whom she could unburthen her
soul, but the kind impassioned words of Sil
veri° sunk deep into her heart and revived
NEUTRAL IN POLITICS,
/kinuinincitt, str.
NUMBER 47
thoughts of the midnight scene-thoughte
that had been choked as unholy, and the
frightful ravings of a sick bed. But now she'
weighed them in a different balance. Her
guardian dead, his plans to make her his
bride defeated, and she was free.
""That was the orphan Minoa, her guar
dian placed her here under our. protection
until! his return from the army, When he
will claim her as his bride."
Business soon called Minoa, to Las Vig
as, but not being long detained there, she
went to La Pueblo, for from this point she
could learn more easily of the army : yet of
the fate of Silverio she could learn nothing,
Weeks and month passed. She read of
the. American army making sad inroads ire
her native country, of thousands of her
countrymen being slain and cities aband•
cloned, yet nothing could she learn of
Sil
verio. Gloomy sadness sat brooding over
her spirit, and the conviction slowly came
to her mind that the brave Silverio had fal-
len, that his noble form had been trampled
on and rode over by the rushing throng
that no friend was there to recognize his
mangled corpse, but was buried with thous
' ands in one common grave. Iler heart al
most ceased to beat, and she prayed that she
too might die.
She assumed the garb of a sister of chati- ,
ty and visited the sick, wounded and dying;:
moistening the fevered lips and aching bror
endeavoring in a sweet, sad voice, to pre
pare their untutored souls for the awfu
change that awaited them. She was truly
a messenger of mercy. The dying looked
into her sweet pale face and thought to be.
hold there the celestial brightness of angel
By a reflection from the lamps that li
the city she saw how death, the consoler
laying his hand upon many a hearts, hac
healed it forever. Life, what a bitter thing
to her, death came not.
News came that the Americans had gain
ed a new victory, and that a number of the,
dying and wounded had been sent ton neigh
boring village. Thither Minor directed her
steps, white a sickeningshudder ran through
every vein, and ns the high and massive
dome of the church was dimly seen in the
distance her courageous heart began to fail
for she knew its consecrated walls echoed
not solemn prayer, but to the agonized groans
of the dying : and 0, agony in the extreme,
Silverio might be there and dying. She
entered in haste the time worn porch, for
she felt that all would soon be ended. Hops,
fear, sorrow and an aching heart, all would
soon be swallowed in joy inexpressible, or
silenced by death. The massive door was
opened and she entered on her errand of
mercy. As she passed many a "head turned
on its pillow of pain" and the dying ceased
to groan. Her presence fell on their hearts
like a ray of the sun on the walls of a pris
on. Slowly she passed on, closing the
sightless eyes of the dead and concealing
their faces where on their pallets they lay
like drifts of snow by the way-side. Sud
denly she pausedand the color faded from
her parted lips, while a cold shudder ran'
through her frame as her quick eye caught
the form of one kneeling nt the dying couch
of a silver headed father. A plaintive mus
ical voice fell on her car, like words of kind ,
ness on a broken heart.
..Spealto once more and say you sari
her, that she yet lives—that the beautiful
Minoa bathed your aching head at La Pou.
bla, while i roamed the wild country
over and never could see her, save in a via l
ion ; and at last in desperation, joined thr
army to bury all thoughts of her in the will
conflict."
"Yes, noble Silverio," lisped the dyin
father ; "and I see her now orelse a brie
angel from heaven to show my weary spi
it there."
Silverio sprang to his 'feet, and with
glad cry clasped Minoa to his heart. Ti
father closed his eyes and .murmure:
"Father, I thank thee. Now let thy servo:
die in piece."
They knelt at his dying pillow, and, in t 4
consecrated temple he blessed them, and l►
fore God and the holy angels pronoupcl.-
he beautiful Minon .and noble Silverio or►
IMPUDENT QUESTION.—To ask an u•
married lady how old she is. To ask a !O
yer if he ever told a lie. To ask a door
how many persons he has killed. • To silt
a minister whether ho ever did anythig•
wrong. To ask a merchant whether he v..r .
er cheat d a customer. To ask a youngia
dy whether she would like a. beau. l ' o•
ask an editor if he had more than am
shirt. •To ask a subsciibcr if ho has pdd
the printer.
Itn" ,, La me l 4 ' sighed Mrs. Partington,
"here I have been sufferin' the bigamiese of
death for three mortal weeks. Fust, I.tt•as
siezed with a bleeding phrenology in the
loft hamshiro of the brain, which was ex
ceeded by a stoppage of the left ventilato of
the heart. This gave me an inflammation
in the borax, and now I'm sick with the
chloroform morbus. There is no blessin'
like that of health, particularly when you r
re sick."
rirThe poor man's peny unjustly
twined, is a coal of fire inn rich ire• d e
'Puree
•