- ' • ________ • ir • - 7 5; 1 • _ , • • • 11 C r. 24 ; t : k - = 4167. r4s. . :• • 7 • f=r l 1; .4t ier 4 77 = - 4 • ,-., gl° • - 2 01'4t , . _ _ Qeuoteb to Politics, News, iterotiore, Poetrn, „Mechanics, /griculture, the Cliffusion of Useful Jinforinatiou, ERneral3ntelligence,'"Antusenient,Marliets , stc. VOLUME VIIL THE LEIIIGH REGISTER h published in the Borough of Allentown, Lchigh County. Pa., every Wednesday, by A. L. IllUllE, At 1.150 per annum, payable in adiance, and ic 00 if not paid until the end of the year. Nu paper discontinued, until all arrearages are paid except al the option of the proprietor. Office in Hamilton Street, one door East of the German Reformed Church, nearly opposite the ...Friedensbote „ " Office. 3nbcninitil agaiiwt THE FRI7KLIN FIRE INSURANCE COMPANY of Philadelphia. • OFFICE, No. 163.3 CHESNUT STREET, :fear Fifth Street. STATE:BI;NT OF ASSETS, $1,525 ; 049 68, JRlllllary Ist, 1851, rub:it:bed agreeably to an Act of ASSEMBLY, BEING * Virst Mottganes,, amply secured, ;;1,100,284 48 Real Estate &resent value 51111,- 000) cost. Temporary Loans; on ample Cola" v lend &curates. 130,174 26 Blocks (present value $76,101) cost. 63,085 50 Cash, &c. &c., 50,665 57 1,325:0 10 68 - PERPETUALOR LIMITED INSURANCES made on every det4cription 'el property, in TOWN AND COUNTRY, at rates as low as are consistant with securityf Since their incorporation, - a period oe tiventy-four years, they have paid Over 1/re millions dollars Loss BY Finn, thereby af fording evidence of tl a advaelitace of Insur ance, as the ability and disposition to meet with promptness all liabilities. Directors: Chatles N. Bancher, Mord. D. Lewis. Tobias Wagner, Adofp. E Bono, Samuel Grant, David S. Brown, Jacob R. Smith, • Morris Patterson, Geo. W. Richards, Isaac Lea, CHARLES N. BANCHER, President. Ca A ntts G. 13AxotEn, Secretary. 4.7 6 'he subscribers are the appointed A , ents of the above mentioned Institution, and are now prepared to make insurances on every description of property,.at the low est rates. A. L. RUfIE, Allentown. C. I?. BLECtI, Bethlehem. Allentown, Oct. 1852. 11-1 Y LIVERY STAI3LE. • The subscriber informs 1 41 . the public that he has pur allhavigs Cfiased the entire stock of &Seri, Cari a ges, &c., com prising the Livery Stable of Clutrles Sea greaves, in the borough of Allentown, and that he intends to carry on the businkinnore extensively than ever. He has added'a tramber of benutifol New Cal-tinges to Met stock, as well as increased the number of Horses. Ile is therefore prepared to furn ish all who may favor him with a call with GOOD and SAFE HORSES, and Vehicles of every description, from a first class eight horse Omnibus to a Sullcy or single horse. By a strict attention to business, and a de sire to please, he hopes to merit a liberal share of patronage. Charges moderate. 17‘Large parties will be furnished with conveyances, with or without drivers, on the most reasonable terms. rirGive us a call, at the old stand 'of Charles Seagrenves, first stable in Church Alley, north of Elatniltnn street. - WILLIAM R. LEFL Allentown, April 26. Q,=3m INETIAVIDI? Ujitiiill, ( LATE TAYLOR ' B,I4OTEL•) No. .f. 138 Couirtland Street ) NEW YORK. ;1,,„ The undersigned A .-.., . ID . ; ~.. '';': .. '•‘ respectfully announces 4 NZ ' I s i X '• d an d ' :-.. - tz to his . frien frien ds to the 'i:::' 4 :: h 11 . , traveling and business 11111111101il, II?! .;:, ' 4; public generally that he .-...-t , .!....- , has leased the , above be (ding; a , d • fitted up and finished it as a FIRST CLASS HOTEL. Visitors to the, City.. and . all others requi ring •superior accommodations; are solicited to tall, fissured' that no•painsin expense will ketsparid 'to- render• their stay comfortable and pleasant. •-• •, . - -. . . • ' J. 8.-STEBBINS, Proprietor. • Ilarffaving engliOd Major EiLt STECKEL, late of the "Eagle-Wel," tn-Allentown, who crljOye'.oiiite circle of Trion& 'it ad r -actfortin= tancesi inL,Easkein PeriOsyliatild i persons theititfit're*Wifait Ne . 'w,-Ydik 'fram.tbis sec , tiert-orcountly,will•fincTYCdurtland lfittect OcilePlit;titat'Ptiniftiyillania Home; ' 4- NeieleorlaStOtteszt - - 7 • ~, •-• 1—.3511 . vir4NTE , ; . Coro and Oats. for which- 4 higbear raprkeetrice 'will be paid by . PRETZ, GUTU & CO. .Ilay 4, 183)3. IP--aw A FAMILY NEWSPAPER. Elepartment. Have you ever heard of the Farmers, Who live among the hills, Where every man's a sovereign, Arid owns the land he tills, Where all the girls are beautiful, And all the boys are strong ? Oh! 'Us my delight of a summer's night, To sing the Farmer's Song. 'Tis here the tall and manly Green Mountain boys are seen ; So called because the Mountains, And not the Hyys, are green. They'll always fight to win the right, Or to resist the wrong— Oh! 'tis my delight of a summer's night, To sing the Farmer's Song. 'Tis here the best and fairest Of Yankee girls are caught, With every grace of form and face That e'er a lover sought; And every art to win his heart. And hold it long and strong— Oh ! 'tis my delight of a summer's night, To sing the Farmer's Song. 82,129 87 And here the Morgan Horses, And ttlach.Hawk steeds abound— For grace and beauty, strength and speed, Their equals can't he found ; They always "go it" fleetly, And they always "come it" strong— Oh ! 'tis my delight of a summer's night, To sing the Farmer's Sung. And the true merinos, Of pure imported stock, Are often seen to range the green In many a noble dock; Their forms arc large and beautiful, Their wool is fine and long— Oh ! 'tis my delight of a summer's night, To sing the nrmer's Song. You've often read of wonders Of oneieni Rome and Greece And of Jacon's Expedition To get the golden fleece ; Vermont has got the fleece away, And brought the sheep along— Oh ! 'tis my delight of a summer's night, To sing a Farmer's Song. And now three cheers far Bingham, And all true shepherd men ; May Heaven keep himself and sheep Till shearing comes again ; . • And then may we be there to see And help the sport along— Oh ! 'tis my delight of a summer's night, To sing the Farmer's Bong. Scle(tiatto. A Sketch for Young Alen and Boys. .Como Willing-In, you will go with us this afternoon; said James Grey to his cousin. .• 'No, James, I have already given you my reeves for refusing, - ,' was the reply. • fig for such reasons r You can't afford the time! Why, man—or boy, rather, for ne.ver be a man—what is one after noon, that you are so afraid of spending!' •luch, very much James. I have a diffi cut; plan almost completed,' and wish to fin ish it while the idea is fresh in my mind . 'That everlasting plea again. Some old Inachinery, enough to puzzle the brain of rehimedes himself. Are you going to in vent a perpetual motion? Ido declare you are enough to provoke the patience of a d saint. Forever moping over plans, diagrams, 1 and models, and heathenish machinery, .that would make one think your.room a pa gan temple. I expect you .will apply for a , patent for an improvement In the car of Juggernaut. But it is of no use to talk to you, for you are joined to your idols.' I would try to be somebody; he pettish ly continued, as he turned toward the door. 'Would yob, James?' was the quiet reply of Willituna, , well, I am trying to be somebody. 'You take a strange way for it.•though.— Here you are shut up in this dismal room, night after night, never enjoying a harmless trick with the - rest of us, or giving yourself any of the indulgences that makelife pleas ant Even a holiday makes ,no difference with you. One would suppose you loved the very sight of the tools and workshop, for you have them forever-with you.' 'Don't get excited; James;' said- William, smiling, 'Come, be serious now. • Do 1 neg ject any of my duties? Do .1' not perform as much-labor and succeed as well in my trade . fts any of you? And as for enjoyment no one loves .pleasure better than L do. L shoUld enjoy tc . sail wit you this Ofternpon very much, bgt my•menna of improvement are limited. and bpi little of my litpe can call my own.'• • • 'James we are machinists, causing' gross inateriur übmances. ,to itsaume,-...ahapes: of beauty. and fitness.. under tihe xiyatetieua. supretacy of eur Some call.,this a. law, a' common bitsaiitess,a mechaniCol op-. eration : but it is not so. There is a' men tal power to. which matter must bow, and there is nothing higher than to elevate The Vermont Farmer ALLENTOWN, LEHIGH COUNTY, PA., MAY 24. 1854. and ennoble our conceptions, so as to make Six months from that time saw William this plastic matter subservient to the best in a responsible office, with a high salary, interests of man: It is thus improvements and the patentee of several useful inventions are made. First, the ideal, then the corros- while James was a journeyman laborer with ponding outward form. In my mind there $25 a month. is shadowed forth, though but dimly—.' %Veil, James.' said Henry Gilbert, a 'Save me from such learned infliction,' ex- short time after, 'William is somebody, af claimed James. have no taste for - what I ter all.' cannot understand. Well, William, be a j 'Yes,' returned James, think we judged dreamer if you please, I am for active life him wrongfully once. I would give all I and its pleasures. Hurrah for our sail, and have in the world to live over my appren good-bye to the second Fulton!' tice life again. These leisure moments are 'Poor James! A mere hewer of weed iwhat make the man, after all, Harry !' and drawer of water,' said William, as, he closed the door and resumed his occupation. .W here's Will?' cried several voices, as James joined his companions in the street. 'Oh, in his room, of course, calculating how much beetle power it will take to draw an acorn up an ant-hill.' . 'Couldn't you prevail on him to come?— He is one of the best rowers we have' 'Prevail, on him? You might as well try to get an oyster to leave his shell! I was really vexed, and gave him a short piece of my mind. I told him, at length, I would try to be somebody,' said James, lighting his se gar and twirling his cane after the most ap proved fashion. 'Good!' said Elarry Gilbert, am glad you showed your spirit. He is a good-hear ted fellow, if he is full of oddities, and it .1 may:perhav4 start him from his .burrow.--.. 1 But what did he say?' ti 'Oh, after arguing the matter awhile he went off into a learned dissertation, in the midst of which I made my escape. He will never be anybody in the world, that's the long and short of it. James and William Grey were apprenti ces in a machine shop, where. various kinds of machinery were made. James, as may be inferred by the foregoing conversation, looked upon his employment as a necessa ry evil. To him it was mere manual labor, a given number of blows, a requisite degree of heat, certain expenditure of _strength—in a Word, it was toil in its most literal sense. William, on the contrary, viewed it with the eye of an artist. There was not mere ly the rough iron to be moulded into some uncared for machine; but, as he told James, a plastic material, assuming beauty by the will of man. He studied, therefore, not on ly the mechanical part of his trade, but his inventive genius was excited. Curiously led him to examine the uses and peculiar adaptation of the machinery he made, till at length his active mind suggested various im proVements. . All his leisure time was employed in the constuction of models, and his room might' have been taken for a miniature patent-of fice. The last year of his apprenticeship was nearly at its close. and William had not on ly improved, but had invented really useful designs. ' Looking over n paper one day, he read an offer of $2,000 for the best model- for a peculiar kind of maohinery-to be used in a cotton factory. ..Why should I not try,' said he. Ile understood what was wanted, and i rlay after day did lie study intensely on the sub ject. At length be grasped the idea, and it wits upon this he was at work when James urged him to join the sailing party. Late at night his cousin returned,. weary with pleasure, and found him sitting at the table, a sealed package before him, his cheeks flushed, an unusual brightness in his eye, and a peculiar expressionon his coun tenance; About n week artex. this, a gentleman .knocked at the door. It was opened by James who was alone. .1 wish to see Mr. Grey,' said the stian ger, glancing with a smile at the peculiar decoration of i Ile room. 'My name is Grey,' returned James, plac• ing a chair for the guest.- 'Allow me to congratulate you on 'your success, I\lr.Grey' said the gentleman, point ing to a counterpart of the model which stood upoi the table. "My success? Ido not understand you sir," said James. "Are you not Mr. Grey. the inventor of this delicate and important machinery." am Mr. Grey, but I am not the inven or of anything,' returned James, somewhat bitterly. .Here is the fortunate person, my cousin, Williain Grey,' he continued, as William entered. 'I rejoice in your success, young man,' said the stranger to William. •Your plan has met the entire approbation of the com mittee, of which I am one. My name is Wilson, and I am authorized to pay you the thousand &liars, and'also to advance you another thousand on condition that you superintend the erection of 'the work to be established.' ' • - Wiliam - was astonished; overwhelmed, and. after expressing his' thanks, added, ant' yet en apprentice,- and my Aline will not expire.withia three months. .Afterthat.l will accept your offer if. you. Wil l -. wait till then,' • . s , " - • ...,Aroappt,taticellsoid 44rrvilnon.-. glow, 'thenlltztille Ask yest. have you• Obtained ouch 'a knowledge of mechanic:lV • , 'By saving my leisure moments. joined to it love of my business as involving some of the best inrcrer.ts of man.' • Living Beyond Our Means. For the sake of appearance, to keep up display and make a figure in tho world, l multitudes adopt the vicious habit of spend ing more than they earn. Pride and fash ion exercise a merciless despotism over their purses. The- rich in their abundance do not feel the burden ; but when the same thing is attempted by those in moderate and , humble circumstances, then "comes the tug of war," In order to ape the attitudes of wealth,athey exhaust all their resources, and even strain the it credit until it is perfectly I threldbate.,. - There is mach in the habits and customs of society furnishing a strong temptation to this course—yet it is a serious evil. It is not right as between man and man ; it is an ex- travagence that carries in its train a pecunia ry injustice.. He who lives beyond his means must supply the deficiency from the ! pockets of his neighbors, very often upon the strength of a deceptive credit. His very display gives him an appearance of afflu ence that misguides the judgement of oth ers. He knowingly passes himself off for more than he is worth, and what is this but a species of fraud ? There is of course an end to this habit somewhere ; the commercial reputation of the individual must finally. be swamped by the number of his .unpaid indebtedness l . yet the whole process is one of dishonesty; even before this catastrophe reveals it. No Christ ian ought to be guilty of it. He not only disgraces himself thereby, but also jeopards the reputation of religion among men. It is, moreover, a very uncomfortable nab it. He who lives above his means gener ally owes more than he can pay ; and the father he goes, the worse' he makes his con dition. lie becomes a stereotyped borrow er ; pays one debt by contracting another; has a . great many debts to pay = littii4 'petty, annoying bills scattered in all' directiolis, which he does not knoiv how to meet.— They are constantly hunting hith with their unpleasant clamors ; they sacrifice his rep utation, and givE .. the community the just Mt preSsion that he is a poor pay-master. All this must be a source of great annoyance • and perplexity. far too great to find an ade quate compensation in a little meaningless parade. It would be far wiser, involve much less friction of the nerves, to shine less and enjoy more. The temptations of the habit ate both nu% merous and dangerous. It tempts a man to sacrifice his sense of honor, to place a light estimate upon - his word, to ba easy in prom.' ising, and very slow in fufillin,g. His moral principles become loose, and pass into the state of decay. His wants bribe liim,qmd he is likely - , under the plea of necessity, to do what under other circumstances he would not think of doing. Sometime she is lad to contract debts, and then move away, leav ing them unsettled and unpaid. Perhaps he runs his credit in ono place till he tuna it out ; and then does the same thing in an other, till he finally runs himself out. He is tempted to acts of meanness, not to say dishonesty, such as dodging his credi tors; and making promises which he does not seriously except to fulfil. His virtue is ' always taxed and stained • by his pride on the one hand, and the inconveniences of his extravagance on the other ; and between the two, the path of plain and simple honesty is made very difficult. Sins seldom go alone ; one form of wrong generally leads to anoth er ; and hence he whole proud heart rerjuires what his lax conscience permits, is on the highway of temptation. IVhat he may be led to do in certain crises made by his folly he cannot tell. He may be so severely chaf-. ed and . pinched . , as even.to be. guilty °l i the crime and murder.. And then again; ho w.ho consumes all and more than all, for the purpose of dislilay, has not a penny for the offices of charity ; he can give nothing to aid the poor, to promote the public good. or to disseminate the knowl edge of the gostile. 'He is altittys himself too poor for this work ; and quite likely soothes his conscience and corrupts his heart with the plea ,of his own proyerty.-- Ile 'Would be glad to do something, bvt cannot—he le sti poor. Very true; but Ibt . hun'tnquire into the reason.of 'his proverty... lle lidos too fast ; he :spends too much on himself and family ;' he keeps up more par:.- ade than he can support; and'-this is the aid reason why, he isrunable to ,contribitte to the interest's of .charityland heruivolencei. . How:. much, more commendable: in the sight of earth and Heaven is that' rnan.who is economical and • frugal that he may be lib eral ; who restrains his own passions from bxces.,i ve indulgence, that he may devote at least a portion of his substance to the cause of God and the interests of philanthropy.— Hisis a rare and valuable virtue, and when it shall be mote common in the Church of Christ, it will be less difficult to find the means for suhstaining and enlarging all her institutions of love.—Evangelist. Frightful Encounter with an Assassin. The house of Elias B. Paine, in West Newton, Mrissachusetts, was lately the scene of a most desperate, exciting and mysteri- I ous struggle, the particulars of which, as we gather from a friend of the family, are as fol low : On May day evening, last week, the f family had been entertaining a party of friends, and had retired at a later hour than usual. Upon going to his room, Joseph W. I Paine, the son of the occupant, who is but 22 years of age, retired to his bed, and pas- , sed two or three hours reading. About three o'clock he blew out the light, but was fortunately, unable to go to sleep, and lay in an unusually restless state for fifteen or twenty minutes longer, when suddenly he heard strange footsteps approach his room. Instantly he sprang from his bed; and seized a loaded pistol, which he had been in the habit 4 keeping in his possession since a recent sojourn in California, took post be hind n bureau in the thorn, and awaited the intruders approach. lie had not long to wait. The door opened cautiously, and he could perceive in the gloom the figure of a man gliding stealthily toward the bed he had just quitted. Upon passing his hand over the bed the stranger uttered a half sup pressed exclamation of disappointment, and young Paine - could perceive the gleam of a knife. He leveled the pistol with a care ful aim at the stranger's head; but checked hilnself with - the thought that it was perhaps some starved wretch seeking only plunder, and he would notwantonly take human life. With this impulse he laid the pistol upon tho bureau, and sprang upon the intruder who immediately assailed him with a dirk knife, cutting him severely in' various parts of the body, but as Paine succeeded in grasp ing his bands the blows were not heavy.— He at last succeeded in wrenching the knife from-the hands of his assailant, notwithstan ding his apparently superior strength, when the fellow drew a pibtoliwitich Paine grasp ed, and by extraordinary good fortune his little, fingerwas between the cap and ham mer just as the fellow drew the trigger! The - hammer of the pistol took . a small piece of flesh out of the finger. The fellow made• a second attempt to dis charge the weapon, but Paine struck .his arm and.the ball entered the ceiling of the - room. The struggle was then renewed, Paine in turn being the assailant, inflicting upon the fellow tivo.stabs with the, knife.— The min succeeded; howevet,'in getting out of the house,-but closely followed by Paine, and 'fighting the way inch by inch, cursing and swearing, through the parkir and the dining room, when Paine finding himself growing weak from the loss of blood, and fearing that the man would finally escape, tripped him over a picketfence back of the house, and both rolled down anembankMent of ten feet, viihen the stranger succeeded in disengaging,himself;and escaped just as the family, who hailbeerraroused by.the report of the pistol fited during the struggle in the house, arrived at the spot. `Ynung Paine had strength left to answer to his father's call that he was safe, but•had -to be helped into.the house and to bed, where he-still lies in a critical state. During the whole strug gle it did not once occur to him to call for help. None of the stabs arosueh as would be. very dangerous alone, the:Worst being a deep gash on the breast, about three inches in length, but his head, , face; arrns.and body are badly hacked. up, from - which he has bled profusely,. and having. been feeble for some time past r it• is thought he will long be confined to hisbed.• .' ' ' • ' kssissination Was 'evidently the object of the intruder, since he made no attempt to se -1 cure the young man's watch, which was hanging close to his head nt the head of the bed, but proceeded at once to his bloody work. Mr. Paine is joint editor and pro prietor of the Yankee Blade; _published in Boston,.an estimable young man, and.can give no rensop why he should be thus at- tacked. _The whole 'affair is enveloped in mystery. , • ' • Mr. Paine• says he thinks twice at least he thrust the knife to the hilt in the body of his assailant, and if se, he probably cannot long - escape detedtien.. It -is thought that tholellow had • been Watching the house, and entered as Soon ailie, supposed his victim had fallen to sleep. , Ho. left. behind him a dirk knife end pistol eit'iictiliai - triake, to-. gether with'the - balliiirerinto - the ceiling, Which Will probably•lead•to his identitica lion and arrest. The roads_in the. vicinity Were &arched ati stein after the affair as the heighbors could be Aroused. but no arrest -was made. Mr. Paine, senior, has offered a reward.o(ssoo for the apprehension_ of tho : desperadtr.... .• ._ ". • Wilier° is' a man in Tray so mean, that be wishes his landlord to reduce the price of .his board bill, because horhad two teeth extracted. NUMBER 34. A Yankee Wedeog in New York. Chancing a visit the office of Alderman —, the other day, we witnessed a hy menial ceremony that will bear narrating. The bridegroom was a weather.beaten 'Countryman, a pert of good-nature but so tall that in entering the portals orthe office, an involuntary obeisance was neces sary : while the artificial hollyhocks on the summit of the bride's bonnet just touched the elbow of her expected lord. Their en trance was preceded by an urchin in dtlabi dated garments, who claimed and received' three coppers as his fee for guiding them to; the spot. 'What can I do for you, my.-good friends ?t : asked the urbane Alderman, as_ if . in,utter ignorance of the object of their. •Pray be seated madame.' Well, Squire,' answered the•grootri, With" a glance at the filagree breast pin that 'fast ened a dashing ribbon around thei - laciy's• neck, 'old Mrs. Pettibone down to L.inn -1 you've hearn tell about her, - I reckon - e Well, really; L think—l-fittidjii . lt now— gueis not., • - • 'Not heard tell of her, Squire. b - Whythe , makes about the best punkin - sass you ever' put in your stumrnik, I reckon ; slips deown ; fist as slick as a greased tat craivlia through a jint of stove pipe.' • 'Very happy to be introduced to her, sir, but don't let me interrupt you. Pray, pro - coed.' . an, j.s ' so. Well, oldMrs..Petti . , . . bone gin' me her Dianthy, here,to get splid, ed to. She's a widder woihati; and Deacon Pettibone made ropes'of iheshoo. peg business, when he was larnt the business with him ; so you diskiver that I nat'rally liked ilia gall, - and the old' lady gin consent; so of you'll pronounce the ceremony, your money's ready.' • ~ S o you wish to be married, eh"?`: queried the Alderman, willing to - spend - a feiv pa , meet's leisure in conversation: , '..May•l ven. ture to ask what -induced you- to . break through a bachelor's life.' - •. • , ,* .Sartin, Squire ; sartin.- . Yew see its mat' rel. Who ever hearn tell of a- bachelor chippin' bird, or a - bachelor ? I' reckon 'nobody has. And then ain't doubt. , lies kinder net'ral. Ain't double roses, and double . mornin'-glories and doub'e pinyes, the pootyist, and don't everybody like them better than single ones ? : The amount on it is, nature - teachei it, Squire clear' throtighi the gogrammy. beginning" witii the robins. and shaven' oft with the apple blossoms.' . • .Very true, my good. sir, a ,very , philosov' phic view of the subject.' (Turning...to wards the lady.) And you madamehave you given this subject the attention it mbr- 'Never'rnind her, Squire, jest let me set 7 ,; tle that air business ;''taint no Icipder . ase trouble your bowe's about liistiathy . , Jes' you fetch out yOnebooks and firenway. 4 ".• The ceremony was soon performed Our ' 'Reform' Alderman has' carried' iirtptciVe- - mut even into that deportment of 'lifs .btisi- - ness--and a two alliar bill titas duly plac ed in his hatid by the newly-made husband. After he had congratulated the pair, Attrid• w hished them success, Jonathan - exclaimed.. 'Squire you're lli ta reg'lar trump, you are; and if ever you come to Lynn •you'll find a• stopple' place with me, and a reusie wel come. But Squire,' and Janrithiin facetious ly ins , rted his fore finger in the region of the Alderman's ribs, .1 am &ids. with..one horse bedsteads. I am. Good bye, Squire. Journal of Commerce. . • - A Short. 'tort' by Dickens. " • Dickens tells the followini story ot•arr American Sea 'Captain :- 4 0n his•lnst voy time home the captain had on board a young lady of remarkable personal• attraction—an phrase I use as one being entirely new, and one you never meet with in the newspaper. This young lady was beloved intensely by five young-gentleman, passengers, and 'in turn she was in love with them all very ar dently, but without any particular prefer• ence for either. Not-knowing how to make up her determination in this dilemma, she consulted my friend the . captain. The cap tain;.being a man of a original turn of mind. says to the young lady, 'Jump overboard and marry the man who jumps after you.' The young• lady. struck with the idea. and being naturally .fond of bathing, especially in warm weather, as it then was, totgc the .advice of the captain, who had n boat ready • manned 'in case of accident. Accordingly. next, morning, the five lovers being on deck' and looking very devotedly at the young la. - dy, she plunged bite the sea headforemost: Four of .the lovers immediately jumped in after her., When the young lady and her four lavere were got out again, site says to' the captain. •Witat acet to do with them now,- they are so• wet ?' Says the captain; •Tako the dry . one And the young lady did, and married him. - t".t...ittle boy, how many kinds of fire are' there 2' 'Four, Ma'am.' 'What are they called?' • 'Wood fire; coal fire, camp fire, and fire away like fury." . - - "That will - do, you may go to the head.".