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' 9 ' •:?•-,' ~.. • ... . . • --..- ........-- .._, , A FAMILY - NEWSPAPER. , . • ......_ - • FOR FARMER AND IVIECIIANICI -. . .. fElevoteb to Politics, - Nays, ,Citerature, ,Poetrv, illeclymics, 'Agriculture, the Eliffusion tioeful „Information, izeneral „Intelligente, 'Aftrusetnent, Illaructs, &c. VOLUME VII. THE LEHIGH REGISTER, is published in the Borough of .911entown, - Lehigh County Pa., every Wednesday - BY A. L. RIME, • Al $1 50 per annum, payable in advance, and I s 2 00 if not paid until the end of the year. No Paper discontinued, until all arrearages are paid 'except at the option of the proprietor. Anuwriserszwra, making not more than one square, will be inserted three times for one dol lar and for every subsequent insertion twenty. five cents. Larger advertisements, charged in the same proportion. Those not exceeding ten lines will be chareed seventy-five cents, and those making six lines or less, three insertions fur 50 cents. caA liberal deduction will be made to , those who advertise by the year. rir Office in Hamilton St., one door East of he German Reformed Church, nearly opposite "Friedensbote" Office. Poetical facpattment. The Heathen Child's Appeal We gaze up on the beauteous earth, With hs trees and flowers fair; • We hear the gushing of its streams, And we breathe its balmy air. We gaiteupon the wondrous sky, With Its many stars and bright :. We see the glorious sun by day, And the silvery moon by night. put ever. our lives are mournful, And ever we fear to die; For wicked are we and guilty, And our souls in darkness lie. We sigh for light, and peace. and hope. But-ever we sigh in vain— Pur,gods of wood and stone are made, 4.nd they never heed our pain. .. , r , We have heard of a land afar, 'Beyond the billowy seas, Where one ,true, living Con is lcnown, nom whose presence darkness flees We have heard of a precious Word, 'He has given to children there, * Richer by far thap ruby bright, —Or jewels that princes wear. We have heard that it speaks of a Friend, Almighty to save from woe ; And a home of bliss beyond the grave, Where all that love him shall go. "Would we were there, in that blest land ! It go that Friend we might find— Pr vinuld_he we're here, with pity deep, And a heart so vast and kind ! • - '`D, will not the happy children there The leaves - for our healing send, , Vhsiesie their holy God may know, And their Saviour make our friend flefore we'aome to our dying nay, Wall truth on out spritits shine; Or will they.let us in ruin sink, With no news of life divine 1 • The Step Daughter. We have rarely.,read anything more touch ingly beautiful than•the following lines. . Atte is riot mine, and to,rny heart Perhaps she isless dear Than those who of my life are part— This is the sin I fear: And ever in the.dread to err. By loving those the best, More gentle have.l been to her, Perhaps than all the re?t. • Ras in little fault occurred, That may rebuke demand • " • Ere I can speak a hasty word, vv it ' - .. Or lift a chiding hand, . An a gers form comes flitting by, • 'th looks so sad and mild— ' e floats softly from the sky, Tould'at harm my orphan child!" ' ' No--Witnesa,thou and all above, I'll cherish her as mine, •• r Or may . I losaher father's love, A love that once was Mine ! itliscellaucotte Oclections. (Prom Gleason's Pictorial ) The Faithful Clerk. You cannot stop the course of Cupid's ar rows ; they will hit where you least expee, tell, and leaven mark that no patent medi cine can cure. Mr. Boswell went to the great city, full forty years ago, as a poor but he had worked his way up by “clerking , ft,".until he went into business for himself.n? He then hired poor young men, like his' former self, and , among the vest took .Sgm, OEII 7 as a boy to do mes sages and run ermn -in particular, Sam was always despatched with small notes to hie master's house, and while he' was•sit, ting in the entry waiting Tor ‘ema'am" to 'return an answer—for .sho was. a terrible slowVenmsn—little Marley, the rich man's daughter; - made' his .'acquaintance. •Sam was cbright .boy, -rather- precocious, had an entertaining way to amuse the little girl, so that by-and•by she used to enquire of her mother "if he were not coming of some errand again soon ?" And there never was any long suspension in his calls, fOr it eith er rained and his master wanted an umbrel la. or a friend was invited to dinner, or he had something of importance to communicate so Sam was despatched with the message. And then he was a great favorite with the old lady—for he was very exact and truth ful—two excellent traits in any messenger. For years this sort of transmitted intelli gence was conveyed by Sam. He was no longer the little boy, but a toll, graceful youth, and little Nancy was some way in her teens. Now, he used to be invited by the daughter into the sitting room; he was no longer called "Sam," but Samuel. Miss Nancy and he discoursed or concerts and theatrical exhibitions, and once in a while Samuel attended the same church, and used to peep over to his master's pow and catch a glimpse of Nancy's black, lustrous eyes.— But what if she did return the glance." thought he, "I am the son of a poor widow and only a clerk ; it is all nonsense to think of being a favorite, only as I am faithful in the old man's service." Buttomehow Nan cy_did show winning ways.—She half in vited him to come and take a seat in the pew —or rather, she said, "we have always room enough,"—and when she gave her birth day party she insisted upon Samuel's being invited. The old lady thought at first it would never do, but Nancy pleaded so hard at last she told her father in consideration of his faithfulness he ought to be invited, and none of the company would recognize him, yet she would delight to introduce him as Mr. Offing! She did so, and many inquiries were made by sundry young belles to know "who was that handsome young man 1" All this flat tered Nancy's vanity, and increased her af fection. She now had low conversation when he came of errands, and once her moth er detected her in writing a note to him. She reprOved her for her temerity, which seemed not a bit to abate her attachment. Finally her mother thopght of sending her Irvin home to abate the silly girl's love, and being obliged to tell the secret to the father, he pro tested she should be sent. to a convent rath er than disgrace herself in this way. But Samuel was so well versed in his mercantile affairs ; he knew so much better than himself the character of his customers, and had such a ready tact at detecting any evasive artifice. that he saved him thousands annually; and this fact was not to be over looked by dismissing him from service.— But the affair with Miss Nancy was not to be passed over without a reprove! Roswell had always been on the most intimate terms with his clerk, and how he could so repri inancl him as to accomplish his purpose and destroy his attachment for his daughter, was to him a puzzling enigma. He was mis taken, however:lp one of his conclusions, which wl s tno 'father ever had so diffl cult a after toadjust before. A fter a sleep less night, Mr. Boswell called his clerk into his presence. At that very moment he was reading a note which ran on this wise : "My parents may banish me to some for eign shore, or they may immerse me within the walls of a convent; yet I will surmount all harriers and-eventually:be yours. They may cramp my movements, but they shall never destroy the affection nor the love in my heart towards the 'despised clerk.' N." "Offing," said Mr. Boswell, "is there any business on hand requiring your immediate attention V! • "None,sir." replied the young man, "save a few unanswered letters to• some cotton dea lers ;" and he twirled the loving ndte in his hand as if one of them. “Samuel,” said Mr. 8., with a loud hem; "Sam, I . here there is an attraction between yofi andinydaughter. Report yourself like a man—is it so ?" "It is, sir," replied Samuel, manfully; al low me to say, sir, I will never marry her without your consent." "Keep her affections and not marry,—hey boy,—do I understand you ?" "The affections are her own, sir. will use no improper means to retain them, Mr. Boswell—but perhaps you are too late in pushing these inquiries." "Offing ?—you scapegrace!" replied Bos well half indignant, and half playful, " you always will have the last word.' He then changed his tone, and inquired about the liabilities of Petingill & Co. Mr. Boswell, evidently was a relieved man. He had done his duty in reprimand ing the young man, and he could inform his wife of it, and let her proceed as she thought prOper. Nancy, in the meantime, showed no re luctance to be driven whithersoever they might send her,pnd the convent in a South ern State wes selected. Her outfit, was now rapidlypurchased and made ready, and the day arr ived for her departure. Sequel man ifested no outward signs of regret, and the great object , seemed to unobservant eyes te„ be accomplished; .c . Nancy,' upon her arrival, wrote bit& ca. cerning the delig,htful home she had entered. , She seemed• docile and obediente—roved. her parents More - than ever, and tegged ALLENTOWN, LEHIGH COUNTY, PA:, JULY 20, 1853. sere them that they need have no nnxiety on her behalf. She stayed a year with the Lady Superior, really inproving in all her graces and charms of feminine loveliness, when her fathei Avcissiddenly taken ill, and she was summoned at his-bedside. , The interview was a long and private one —but Mr. Offing, ate clerk, was likewise found by his bedside the same afternoon.— "Samuel," said Mr. Boswell, ‘.l am about to leave the world. At such a time every thing but one's character seems of little worth. You havo been all in all to _me in my business transactions. Do you love my daughter still ?" said he, pressing his hand. ..Our affections are unchanged ?" re marked Samuel. • "Then," said Mr. Boswell, "she is yours Call her." "Nancy, you have my dying approbation to marry this young man, and remember it is in consequence of the discreet and implicit obedience you have both rendered us when we were opposed and indignant at the thought of your marriage. , Here is my will call your mother. Samuel read it, and see if it is satioNctory." He did so, and they were all moved to tears. Samuel was appointed his executor—he was likewise his successor in business, with a cash capital of fifty thousand — dollars, de posited in his own name for his benefit, be sides some ample provision - for his wife and daughter. , "And in consideration of the sterling integrity and a manifest desire to please," was inserted before the devise of Samuel Offing. The clerk now sbcceeded his master ; the marriage soon followed, and the happy couple are still respected, affluent and be loved—aa exarriple, to all aepiring young men, early'restricted by poverty, to be faith ful and devoted to their employers, being assured that this is not a solitary instance where a promotion ensues as the reward of undeviating rectitude. (From the Boston Olive Branch.) Mother's Influence. 'And so you sail to•ntorrowi Will ? shall miss you.' 'Yes, I'm bound to see the world; I've been beating my wings in desperation against the wires of my cage these three years. I know every stick, and stone, and stump in this odious Village by heart, as well as I do those stereotyped sermons of Parson Grey's. He calls me 'a scape grace'--'pity I should have the name with out the game,' said he'bitterly. '1 haven't room here to run the length of my chain.— I'll show him what I can do in a wider field of action.' • 'But hot►• did you bring. your• father over ?* 'Oh, he's very glad to be rid of Me ; quite disgusted because rve no fancy for seeing corn and oats grow. The truth is, every father knows at once top much and too little about his own son ;. the old gen tleman.. neVer understood me; he soured my temper, which was originally none of the best, roused all the worst feelings of My nature, and is constantly driving 'me from, instead of to, the point he would have me reach.' 'And your mother ?' 'Well, there you have me; that's the only humanized portion of my heart—the only soft spot in it. She came to my bed- . side last night, ,after she thought I was asleeagently kissed my forehead, and then knelt Ty my bed-side. I've been wander ing round the fields all the morning, to try to get rid of that prayer. Old Parson Grey might preach at me till the milleniuin and it wouldn't \ ntove me any mare than stone. It makes all the difference in the world when you know a person feels what he is praying about. I'm wild and reck less, and wicked, I suppose ; but I shall never be an infidel while I can remember my mother.. -You should see the way she bears my father's impetuous temper; that's gr.tce not nature, Harry ; but don't let us talk about it—l only wish my parting with her was well over. Good bye; God bless you, Harry ; you'll hear from me if the fishes don't make .a supper of me;' and Will left his friend and entered the cottage. - His mother was moving nervously and restlessly about tying up all sorts of myste rious little parcels that only mothers think of, 'in case he should be sick,' or in case he should be this, that or the other, inter rupted ' occasionally by exclamations like this from the old farmer : 'Fudge—stuff-- great over-grown baby—making a fool of him—never be out of leading strings ?' then turning short about and 'facing 'Will as he entered, he said-- WeII, sir, look in Your sea-chest, and you'll find gingerbread and physic, darning needles and tracts, , bitters' and Bibles, pep permint and old linen rags, and Opedeldoc. Pshaw I I was more of a mat( than you are when I was nine years old. Your mother always made a fool of you, and that was en. tirely Unnecessary, toci,lor you' were always short of what is called common sense: You ite" . tient, tell the captain you went to sea be- You.didn't know'enou gh fi to be &lands maw; orAtincy.n ouevor,di anything.right. in your life- except. by xtaident.. , tYon•are. as like that ne'er do well, Jack Halphine, as two pens. If there is anything in you, I hope that salt water will fetch it out.— Come, your mother has your supper ready, Mrs. Low's hand trembled asithe passed her toy's cup. It was his last meal under that roof for many a long day. She did not trust herself to speak—her heart was too full. She had heard all his father so inju diciously said to him, and she knew too well from former experience the effect it would have upon his impetuous, fiery spir it. - She had only to oppose to it a moth er's prayers, and tears, and all enduring love. She never condemned, in Will's hearing, any of his father's philippics,.al ways excusing him with the general remark that he did'nt understand him. Alone, she mcilirned over it, and when with her hus band, tried to place matters on a better foot hill for both parties. Will noticed his mother's swollen eye lids ho saw his favorite little tea cakes that she had- - busied herself in preparing for him, and he ate and drank what she gave him, without tasting a morsel he swallow ed, listening for the hundredth time to his father's account of what he ,did when a young man. must half an hour, - Will,' said his father, 'before you start, run up and see * if you have forgotterrany of your duds.' It was the little room he had always call ed his own. How many nights he had lain there listening to the rain pattering on the low roof, how many mornings awakea ed by the chirp of the robin in the apple tree under the window. There was the little bed with its snowy covering, and the thimsand and one little comforts prepared by ;.hie mother's hand. He turned his head—she was at his, side,' and her arms about his neck. .God'keep my boy !' was all she could utter. He knelt at her feet as lb the days of childhood,and from those wayward lips came this tearful prayer.— .0h God, spare my mother, that I may look upon her face again in this world.' Oh, in a few days, - when that voice had diyi out from under the parental roof, how sacred was that spot to her who gave him birth ? There was hope for the Bay ? lie had recognized his Mother's God. By that in visible silken cord she still held the 3vande rer, though broad seas rolled between: .Letters came to Moss Glen—at Mated in tervals, then more irregularly, picturing.on-. ly the bright spot in the sailor life, (for Will was proud, and they we to• b scanned b his father's eye.) The er usual . e temptations y of a Sailor's life, when in port were not un known to him—of every cup the syren pleasure held o sto his lips, he drank to the dregs ; but there were moments hi his mad dest revels, when that•angel whisper, !God keep my boy.' palsied his daring hand, and arrested that half uttered oath. Disgusted with himself, he would turn aside for an in-. Atant. but only. to drown again more reck lessly that still small - torturing voice:' Can't you Buy for Less. The following good joke is told of Charley C., a notorious wit, and a clerk in an exten sive hardware house in Ono day, C. was standing in his store, which is a double one, having a door cut in the wall between the two houses,. when he was accosted by a very grave personage, wearing a long drab coat, and whom he knew to be a deacon, with the query— " What's the price of nails?" ' , Six cents," replied C. ' , Too high," said the deacon. "Can buy them for five and a half." can't you buy them for less ?" asked C. ""No replied the deacon ; "but can get all want for that." Turning on his heel, the deacon went out and entered the door of the next house, while C. slipped through the middle door, and, having pulled off his coat, and picked up a hammer, met the deacon, who, not re cognizing him, inquired the price of nails. "Five and a half cents," responded C.— Whew 3" whistled the deacon. "Too high—can buy,the beat at five and a quar ter." • i.Can't you btiy for less ?" asked C. , No," said our friend, ”but.cima buy at that." Away he went again, and walked up stairs, through another door—the up-stairs being occupied by another firm ; and C., sliding into the lower house again, and go ing up-stairs, again met the deacon, who for the third time, inquired the price of nails.— aFive and a quarter cents I" replied C. ii•Fivw..and a quitter I" ejaculated the deacon'. .‘oCad . buy'the. beat at five cents," r o!No less ' i iiiiked • , " said the deac:opl as be,,was about to leave, Milan took bah:toe / film and said— oFrkerirl,,l'va quoted nails to' you at six, at five , ,:ard .a hilt and five'and :quarter cents ;,each time You:said you' could buy thein for less: Now, • kithen'lyou preach' again, just let kris* COTTOb. orate your sfiderdehts.' . • it is needless unsay the'enterprisingdea can 'made his exit in double quick tithe, with out having' the grace to reply•to the =ink ed:Opting clerk. - • • Mothers, and Fortune Hunters. The article in the last Blackwood, enti tled 'Minor Morals,' contains • a passage which,'we imagine, to be of particular, in terest to some ladies i Here it is : , There is one large department of our subject, which we must treat very briefly. We al lude to those frightful hypocrisies which are so commonly practised in private life, and which society does not censure. Some of them may indeed, bo described as of a blameless character. Although you are morally convinced that Crossleigh and his wife are the most unhappy couple in exis tence ; and that, when alone together, they fight with the ferocity of tiger-cats ; it is, we own, rather agreeable' than otherwise to find them referring to each other, before company, in very complaisant terms, and habitually employing the sugared epithets of the honey-moon. There may be, in all that, a deal of false pretence, but no one suffers by it. • Very different, however, is the deception which Mrs. Crossleigh prac tises on account of her daughters. The young lady, Ociavia, is the incarnation of a vixen; and in her the hereditary bad temper of both her parents is so concentrated, that she has the entire mastery over them.— _Some_glimmerings_of_common sense have made this amiable virgin aware that an ex hibition of these ,valities is not likely to win the admiration of mankind—for the taste ofrefruchio was decidedly peculiar ; and it required considerable self-confidence tO nadertrike the taming of a shrew—rind she usually appears abroad in the, guise of a meek Oriseldio. Nor is she unbacked by her mother, who, in order to get rid of her, has heaped a whole Hiindlayah of false hoods upon her soul. Her object is to get Octavia suitably. married, and for that pur pose she spreads her snares for weak-min ded young men only; One milk-and-water curate with a pulpy countenance, and an in tense veneration for the excellencies . of the Cyprianic age, wes very nearly Made a vie tim, and had just :nade up his mind to . porp' the question, when the sound of an ill-ad vised skirmish up stairs, and an assault upon a terrified housemaid, made him take to his heels as though he had seen the shadow of Apollyon. Most beautiful it is to have a mother piously returning thanks for tie comfort she has received from her childreßl and indicating rather than expatiating upon the extent of their manifold virtues. But mothers are apt to be partial judges, and it is always safe for those meditating matri mony to have recourse to some less interest ed testimony. Indeed, parents are never to be relied on. Sometimes they are mis led, at others they are wilfully misleading ; and in either case, perhaps, there is an ex cuse. One kind of hypocrisy, however; we denounce _as loathsome. It is that of the cold, determined -fortune-hunter, who, having no wealth' of his own; or having squandered it, aspires to make. his fortune by a matrimonial alliance. Fools very often entertain this idea, and in them it is less discreditable_; for, not-beink gifted with any strong. perceptions, they merely follow, an indolent impalse, assume no false features beyond.tbe appearance of a stupid admira tion, and, in nine cases out of ten, would be tolerably kind to their wives. Many a fool is, by no means, a bad-hearted fellow; be sides, as he cannot, by any possibility, dis guise his folly, the lady has herself to blame. But the case•of the clever fortune-hunter is different. He has, not one ato:n of feeling in his whole composition. He cares noth ing for the womsn he is pursuing for the sake of her money—he merely regards her us a necessary, and not unfrequently a dis agreeable, condition. No art that he will not practise—no disguise that he will not assume, to gain his purpose. Come she ,of a strictly' pious family ? He forthwith ap proaches her inn methodistical garb, attends prayer-meetings, takes an interest in tract societies, and is eager for the conversion of the Jews. Is she sentimental ? The miscre ant, though he never previously read a fine of poetry in his .life, crams himself with Moore and Byron, and expatiates upon the passion of the bulbul for the rose. What ever bo her inclinations, or his tendencies, he tries to adapt himself to those; 'and not unfrequently succeeds, for he is a clever scoundrel; and gifted_with histrionic power. Many of the deepest tragedies of4ornestie life—many a sad story of a broken, beak, more mournful and melancholy than,Vere imagination could devise, have arisen from the successful machinations of such cold blooded villeins; and yet society does not visit these offences with any marked'repro bation. Hypocrisy, deception, false pre tences—all ' are' tolemte,d .within;; a certain range, or passed over witbouC,reprObation, however notoriously they may tie exhibited. larA eprig of the law, expecting soon the appointment of • Judge, , Was : qusationed as to hukquallfications, and the penalty he should attach to the uf , art 4 0,4 , 4 13 04ed 'NA th profound 'gx l o 4l .Y•; "Arson, arson J , l yvPuld.,:,nieke ih§ fellow pay o:l l undtect,dol!cuit,and innOsi'the . girt " sar Y a attacker' in these said a viughlarmer to a sun.inunt traveler. 'Look as though you had beim in foreigrp NUMB +'R 42'.• Mil An Exquisite Story by Lumartine. • In the tribe of Neggdeh, there was horst!, whose fame was spread fir and near, and a Bedouin of another tribe, by name Daher, desiied 'extremely to Haying offered in vein for it his camels and s his whole wealth, he hit atiength - upon the , following device, by which . he hoped to gain' the object of his desire:— He: resolved to stain his face with the' juice of an herb, to clothe himself-in to tie his legs and neck together,- so as to appear like a lame . beggar.- Thus equip.; pod, ho went to wait for Naber, the owner: of the horse, who he knew. Wad',4l",pti*ihit way. When he saw Naher on his beautiful steed, ho dtied ouriiiViak .1 um a - poor stranger ;. - Inr• three ; :thiyi I have been unable to.moVe from this allot to' seek fur food. I am dying help me,. ands heaven will reward you.' The Bedouin kindle 'offered to take him up on his horse and carry him hortie.' - '• But, the rogue replied,' !I cannoC,rise ;. P have no strength left' Naber touched with itity, dismounfecl,led' 'his horse to the spot, and, with great' .Aifft.- culty, set the seeming beggar on his' But no sooner did Daher - saddle, than setaili s-I:67tW and galloped off, calling etitAs• 9; fie,did:sii- ' :Yr - 'lt is I, Daher. I Imvegpt the horse, and am Oil with it.' , • Naber called after him to stop and listen. Certain of not.b . ejng pursued, lie turned,.andi halted at - 1 .- shortodistance ftotn Naber,. who' was armed with.n spear. • - 'You havertakeri my horse,' said the•lat.• ter. , Since:heasen-has willed it, t wish you joy of it I conjure you never to' tell any one how:you obtained • , - 'And why:nat.'?" 'said Daher. •Becalfse, ° sard . _ the noble Arab, 'another" Man 'might 6k:really, ill, and men would fear to help him. YOmtvotild 'be the' eause'.of many refusiug'to j)erform an act of charity,• for fear of betng 7 deires I liave be.' dn b e en. . Struck with 'Shame at these words, Daher' was silent fur r.trkomerit, then springing from the horse, rettirned.;,,kt.to its owner, embra cing him. Nabe s iyn - iitchi.hitn:ccompany him to his' tent, wher.i . ,f''lliek.:lnient a AMP:, dnys together, and becanteifti,stefiientis for life. q. Indian Outrag - 07:*A-4. 1 5- .51 1: THE CREEKS —The Chernkee' , Att4Cate' informs us that a short time since , a.deputy ' marshal of the Northern Districts ot•the State of Arkansab went into the , Creek!Na- - thm and arrested a•G'reek,,charged,with auk ling whiskey, to the Indiana. The, chief of the district, thinking. it an insult nicipal authority'and a•violatiOnicifittie of the Creek Nation, interfeied:drid•sec,thii Indian at liberty. The AdVocate eirpres:t ses its regret at tha'occurrencei' and - thinks it will put the territorial rightitof the:Creuka: in danger : not becayse the chief is notrig.hte, but that it will bring oti a conflic:t tvith•the . United States, who are strong, and theJndi uns who are too weak to. defend , theraselv"de against injustice. . THE WINNEBACKES.—Thei-Winnebagoes i , are committing alarming'outrages- in this vicinity. It Is well lcnovv thit ber of their) have left 'their holde en-We' Upper Mississippi, and around Elk river and the'nountl inie'rven-* ing between that stream and this On the 14thlinst., one of them, While under . the influence 01 liquor, attackedjklr:,Beirry . with an axe, inflicting severe attTluatigeiouni wounds on his Ilf11114and• lead: 'A few aairiii" since one of the' band, while druiiki-diie.' charged his gun twice at 'or in the directiOo of JJrs. Leonard, wife of •C. E. Leonard; Esq., of Cold Spring, l'heY also' cow belonging to Mr. Leona - rd. Sflveritli other similar outrages . comtnitt i ed:' - by ^this' tribe have comp to our knowledge: A hen; vy responsibility rests somewhere, ; in, allow-' ;no the commission of these critnes,WeekAf-' ter week; but we forbear eoritmeniothtil vtip are in possession of certain ftictwliddli Willi set this matter right. before 'the - Falls St. ./Inthony Aspress, lurid Mk' • A •S 1T UATION .:=:-Two yelling officers Walla' travelling in the Far West, ther? {l.4gY aloPP = cd to take b upper , at a smalLroaksidelav- - . ern, kept by a very rough Yanhce Woman. The, landlady, in , ii . calico sen. n bannet.- and bare feet, stood at tie head ilf4heribii, lo' pour but. She, inquired uhhtif, guests 'if thcfy chose long awcoteniiig`reahoil, sweet- - ening .in their coffee:' TheAitst: . 'Offlhar, , supposing that .liing sweeteningt a' inearit , late portion..of the article. theittoF,it,accord4- ingly.. What, was his dismay whav,fter saw • their hostess dip , heT.finer.deepAivall i fpro.-. an earthen jar of betty thars*Lnesphere and then.:titir ; it-2.(tli I :fmger) 4 rtial.44filhe' goad: '.His cumpaiimne.seefingMl4iore- , i oi * (erred !short i!ivelonifie;": ,u on! .. whiag 'the , woman picked jip:ta - 'lat 8.7 . of maple sagas' that lay m p;hti!ny !Maefloor' beside kek,,arid liiiirfg" - ' ; iaci,,fiut ft iot6 7 the- cilP. s ?:l3atti: iffe :gent, Well' 4ispenseit with . ♦'coffee -- thtit.evening. This. anecdote we heard fiom the Sister of one of those of.. •ficers. —Alin , Lealle;: .
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