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Ocuotcb to politio, Nctu,9, L'itcraturc, p 2griculturc, tl)c Miffuciion of tbcfitl tlfoiination, Tuncyal 3 atelligence,'Auntotincut,iliarlicti, stc.
VOLUME VIII.
THE LEHIGH REGISTER
II published in the Borough of Allentown, Lehigh
County, I'a., every lialnesday, by
A. L. RUJJE,
At $l5O per annum, payable in advance, and
$2 00 it not paid until the end of the year. No
paper discontinued, until all arrearages are paid
e;tnept at the option of the proprietor.
Mice in Hamilton Street, one door East of
the German Reformed Church,.nearly opposite
the ..Friedenshote" Office.
Tall .ffin 3PA a
ME
UallalS3l.tQlit+R
Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods
IN ALL THEIR VARIETIES
A T TEE
'New Cheap Store
Get= 4S Gilbert,
IN BOROUOII OF CATASAUQUA, PA
These gentlemen, take this method to in
form their friends and the public in general
that they have received a very .large and
well selected stock of 11 inter and Nywing
Goods., which tin y are .now ready to dis
pose off to their cus t omers at the lowest
prices.
Their immense stock has been selected
%%len the utmost care and consists of
Clothes, Cassinters, Satinets,
tlannels, Gloves and Hoseiry. besides De-
Mines, A lapaccas, Debashe,G inghatns.Pla in
and Figured Poplins, Aluslins and Prints,
Boots, Shoes, Hats, Caps, Queensware,
Hardimare,' Looking Glasses, Stationary,
Books, &c.,
To which they invite the attention of their
friends and the public generally, confident
that the fullest Satisfaction, both in price aria
qunlity, will be given to all who may favor
them with a cull.
'1:110 highest •prtees will be paid in ex
chtingy for County produce. •
iVII6 , have reason to be thankful for the
favors received thus fur and hope by atten
tion to business, disposing of their goods at
small profits,„good treatment towards their
customers to. merit still a greater slurre of
GETZ & GILBERT.
customers. •
September 14
Groceries Fish Sall.
The undersigned have just received an
entire new Stock of Groceries, Fish and
Salt which they intend to sell at the low.
est prices at their Store in Cutasauqua, Le
high county. GETZ &GILBERT.
September 14. du—Om
COAL 1 COAL !
Thu undersigned have opened a Coal
Yard in Catasauqua, and will constantly
keep on hand all kinds of Cod• Which they
sell at greatly reduced-prices..
GETZ & GILE3ERT.
Septemfaer I-I. I—Gin
Ready-made Clothing.
The undersigned keep all kinds of Ready
s,tade Clothing, on hand, and will make to
roder, at the lowest possible prices...
GEM & GILBERT.
Catasauqua, Sept 14. • 11-6 m
WIEDER & BOY ER,
No. 25, West Hamilton street, Jlllentown.
4 Thankful for past favors and
hoping by strict attention to busi
ness and a desire to please, to mer
elr•-: it a continuance of the patronage
so liberally bestowed on them, and wishing
the people to understand the fact, that they
are both PRACTICAL lIATTERS—Lboth
having served a long apprenticeship at the
business 'and understandin" o ,thi business
thoroughly in all its variouslaranches, , they
are confident they cart .MANUFACTURE
HATS of all kinds inferior to none in the
market, and also a little cheaper, because
they perform a great deal of the labor them
selves and buy their material from the imper
ters for cash, and understanding the bust
ness they employ none but good workmen,
and doing a large business they can afford
to sell at small profits.
These are some of the reasons why you
often hear the remark that "Wieder & Boy
er sell such beautiful Hats at such astonish
ingly low prices. They always have the
latest Philadelphia and New York styles
on hand, so you need not be afraid of hav
ing an 'old fashioned Hat, stuck on you.—
Hive us a calla It don't matter what is the
shape of your head, we will insure a fit.
Kit 'Country Merchants would do well to
give us a call, as we will wholesitle them
hats and caps cheaper than they can get
Them in the pity. Also a large assortment
el' all kinds of straw goods whicf} they will
sell cheap. TERMS CASH.
Allentown, lYjarph 16.
WANTED•
Tiinothy Hay., •Wheit, Rye, Corn and
Oats, for'whi4i the highest market price
will be paid by
paraz, GUTH 6t, CO.
May 4, 1563.
A FAMILY NEWSPAPER.
Poetical Ocpartment.
I did love thee Lilly Lee,
As the petrel loves the sea,
As the wild bee loves the thyme,
As the poet loves the rhyme,
As the blossoms loves the dew—
Hut the angels loved thee too.
Once, when twilight's dying head
Press her golden sheeted bed,
And the silent stars drew near,'
VI/hite and tremulous with fear,
While the night's repelling frown,
`Strangled the young zephyr down,
Told I all my love to thee,
Htpeing, fearing, Lilly Lee.
Flu'iered then her gentle breast,
With a troubled sweet unrest,
Übe a bird too near the net, •
Which the fowler's hand bath set ;
But her mournful eyes the while,
And her Efirit speaking'smile,
'fold me love could not depart
Death's: pale arrow from the heart.
Hushing from that very day
Passion pleading to have sway,
Folding close het little hand,
Watched I with her till the sand,
Crumbling from beneath her tread,
Lowered her softly to the dead,
Where in peace she waits for me,
Sweetest, dearest Lilly Lee.
As chaSel heart loves t h ' wave,
As the blind silence loveS the grave,
As penitent loves prayer,
A 4 the pa 1 ...! passion loves despair,
Loved and still love I thee,
Angekstolen Lilly Lee. •
Be strong in truth! No cause can fail
While truth's its cornerstone :
No hope can die—nu bosom quail,
While truth has there its home.
No tyrant's steel may pierce the heart,
And break each human tie,
But• truth will live to act its part,
When time itself shall die.
The gory hand may shdire its spear,
And sound its (head alarm;
But none who stand for truth need fear
such futile power to harm.
Then strike once more, nor dread the blow,
That pamper(' Inillion . b
But 'nave for truth each pungent throe
On life's broad baule.field.
A brighter day will dawn, and soon
Its sun to zenith rise,
When high above the earth will loom—.
Truth lives and never dies!
Tho CrUarctoi,or of et Happy Life
low happy is he born and taught,
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armor is his honest thought,
And simple thought his utmost skill
Whose passions not his masters are,
Whose soul is still prepared for death,
United unto the worldly care
Of public fame, or private breath;
Who envies none that chance cloth raise,
Or vice; who never understood
How deepest wounds are given by praise;
• Nor rules of state, but rules of good ;
Who bath his life from rumors freed,
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose stale can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruin make oppressors great;
Who God doth late and early pray,
More of his grace than gifts to lend ;
And entertains the harmless day'
With a religious book or friend;
This man Is freed from servile ham's
Of hope to rise, or fear to fall;
Lord of himself, though not of lands;
And having nothing, yet bath all.
Zelectiollo.
In a dirty and obscure alley of Paris was
once—ay, perhaps a hundred and fifty years
ago—situated a house, the front and arrange
ments whereof, from foundation to, roof, had
been altered 6,y additions, demolitions, and
repairs, so that the poor mansion would not
have recognised its old creators. The house
was composed of two stories, if a species of
garret, With an earthen floor, and low roof,
which covered two-thirds of the room, and
to which you ascended by a steep ladder,
might be called one. It is with this garret
that we are to be made acquainted. There
were two windows to the garret one looking
out upon an alley, and the other upon a
courtyard. riCthis room might be observ
ed several frames, and pieces of canvas
ready fur tho brush, for it was the abode of
- 11-tf
LILLY LEE
I=l
Tie Strong in Truth
The Two Artists.
ALLENTOWN, LEHIGH COUNTY, PA., JUNE 14,.1854.
an artist, and one who had but little order in
his own composition, for the pictures were
suspended some nne way, some another, all
carelessly amid without symmetry, inclining
at random from the perpendicular, accord•
ing as the nail upon which they were bal
anced was more or less removed from the
centre of the frame.
Several unfinished paintings and sketch
cs,sparkling with imagination and life, orna
mented the large portion of the chamber,
while a shelf, that served for n library, sup
ported some fifteer. or twenty volumes on
painting poetry, etc.
A stone, its mullet - yet moist with white
lead, was placed on a walnut table, a large
easel and canvas stretched upon it occupied
the centure of the room. The window skil
fully covered with blackened paper and can
vas, gave but a small ingress to the light,
which came in with a bright ray, falling up
on the face of-a rubby and stalwart peasant,
who, in a grotesque attitude, exhibited two
ranges of broad, white sharp teeth, feigning
a most extravagant and violent fit of laugh
ter. The only other person in the room
shared not in his merriment. A youth ap
parently. about eighteen or twenty
.years of
age, of a grave and silent demeanour, of a
dark coMplexion, with bright eyes and
steady glance, stood before the easel, a pal
let in one hand and a brush in the other, ap
parently embodying the extravagant and
strange grimace of hit companion. And he
could not be aught else but ill-satisfied with
his work, for his contracted brow, compres
sed lip, and sudden quick motion convulsive
with dissatisfaction, left no doubt of the state
of his mind.
Twice or thrice he stood back to survey
his work, his eye travelled rapidly from the
original to the copy, then gave a touch, ef
faced it, touched again, stepped back,-com
pared once more, the result of all being "ul
fez ate--" and here he stopped, like a
good Christian, searching by whom he
should swear. •At length better thoughts
came over hint. "God help the who can
imitate such tints?" and much as he strived
after selt.control, With a moment's struggle,
and an attempt to restrain his anger, he
raised his hand, drew the brush. over the
canvas, mixing the colours with the motion
and tracing a curve varied with all the col
ours of the rainbow. After completing this
peculiar process, which appeared to be any
thiw but a balm to his irritated feelings, lie
threw himself down, his forehead resting on
his hand, and lapsed into prostration, as
though a fainting fit had seized him—the
prostration, the despair of genius, which
looks in at heaven. acrd yet cannot ascend
to the blissful scene.
The peasant who served as a model, with
out a single word, seeing his master thus
immoveable, shut his mouth, seated himself
upon the floor, and commenced n vigorous
attack upon a piece of brown bread. He
waited until it was night,fall, and seeing his
master still fixed in the same attitude, and
immoveable he, with RS little noise as, pos
sible, glided from the room. •
Thus lie remained depressed and pensive
giving signs of being still awake by some
convulsive motion ; once he raised his bead,
looked around, covered his eyes, clenching
his hand and striking his forehead fiercely.
Thus sped on the hour, and he tasted not
food,.thus night found him, and he slept not
and the next morning at daybreak he sallied
forth exhausted and overcome, but now with
rather an expression of sadness than that of
his first fit of despair. .11e donned his cap
with its broken feather,
and enveloped him
self in a long cloak. By a natural and in
voluntary motion he twisted and caressed his
budding moustache, end bearing with him
proof of his recent excitement in his hollow
eyes and pallid complexion he descended the
steps and emerged into the street.
He was a good ChriStian, and a Christian
of the seventeenth century ; so his first act
was to go to the nearest church ; he there
heard mass, waited awhile, and grown more
composed, was ahem leaving, when a hand
touched him lightly on the. shoulder, and n
familiar voice exclaimed, "God' be with you
Alphonse."
He who thus spoke was a man over sev
enty years of age, well made, a pleasant
countenance, and olive complexion, with
proofs of having been good-looking, quick
black eyes of genius, which told of war and
art, with all the enthusiasm of one excelling
in both: [lip mouth was small, and fur
nished with only two or
. three straggling
teeth, but in person he . was active; in up.
pearance genteel and cheerful. He wore a
black camblet cloak-, old and threadbare,
doublet' ding, with handsome flowers and
slashed, but in no better plight than its com
panion ; he wore knightly hose; or pedow
eras, as they were then called, with coloured
lacing, a long and shining sword, a' cap set
on one side, in a martial and soldier-like
style, much worn and threadbare, uvidencing
poverty from 'afar, but clean and brushed
most carefully.
It was a scene worth observing, the meet
ing of these two men—One entering life, the
other leaving it ate one all hope, the other
memory, and both battling it with destiny,
bath looking at eacliother with oyes that be
trayed a fiery soul, a genius of flame, a vol
canic imagination, a life Which enthusiasm
wasted as with a file, and this athwart the
prism..of the future youth, and the veil of the
past old age. W hoeve r had seen them thus
would not have confounded them with•com
men souls, but would have exclaimed,•Much
is there of good and evil within those fleshy
prisons, a heaven or.a hell, glory or suicide
awaited the one ; the other had braved and
overcome a hundred combats throughout life
against a hard and unmanageable fate.
Aid so it was ; the old man was a poet,
but unrecognised amidst the host, known
and respected at least by some artists of en- 1
thusiastic genius, who, in that dark age•for
learning could alone appreciate the florid
and ardent genius of that aged man.
Our young painter knew, loved, and re
vered him, as a profound philosopher, phi
lantropist, and brave soldier, and he had his
verses by heart.
Arai the first salutation, the poet sudden
, ly exclaimed, "l3ut this paleness, those red
wearied, and hollowed eyes. Do not, my
boy, waste a life which may be glorious;
wastq not thy heart : this means—"
"It means," said the painter, interrupting
him even rudely, "a night of watchfulness
of sorrow and torment of rage and despair;'
and he grasped his companion's arm rough
ly; and checked a convulsive sigh.
'What a youthful love !' exclaimed the
old mut with interest ; •but no, I see anoth
er fire than that of love shining in those eyes.
No it cannot • be, young man ; tell me what
has happened.'
•W hat has happened ! To lose my hopes
of glory, to—to fall.'
•Thoti hest undertaken more than thou
shotildst.'
I could not advance one line, one inch
and there must I remain—there be confound
ed with the crowd.'
•No young man, thou host not been born
for such a fate ; no, raise thy head, elevate
it, thinking upon glory.'
'Glory ! yes, I dreamed of glory, and to
you I owe those dreams which are my des
pair.. I wished to live admired or to die, not
a common existence, one of those. which cow
er in the mind, and now how zany I soar
aloft ?'
glad I thy touch, brush and imagination!'
exclaimed the other with a look of enthusi
asm, and plaCing his hand upon his shoul
der, animated with genius and poetry.—
'Thou hnowest not the treasure that is thine
work and I promise thee lame.'
'lt is a II in vain; already it loses its charm
for me; I shall exhaust myself before emerg
ing from the crouch' answered the youth,
with apparent apathy. Then came a mo
ment of silence, and he continued, "You too
have dreamed of glory ; you too, have com-
Rosed verses, comedies—and What has been
the result; your glory is in this cloak, in this
doublet.'
'True," said the old man sorowfully—
'true, I am poor, forgotten, infirm, perscuted ;
behold my glory. The ungrateful goddess
I have worshiped, caressed, and so much
admired. What a return!' and be bowed
his head, but only fora moment. lam poor
.true,'-he resumed, with the bold air of a po
et and a soldier. 'I am poor, but honored,
and -those dreams of love and happiness,aud
rho.. .0 1, oracters I have created, with their
virtues, qualities and pr.. , ions, good or bad
nt will ; those characters 1 lova as my crca
tures—those works which.are my children,
those moments of illusion and delirioro, those
celestial delights that delicious volition,
vague, free as the air ; those worlds I live
in, tell me, do they not conipenente for all
i those troubles all the misfortunes of life ?
1 And who shall take them from me? What
avails the glory of man in comparison with
these creations, the godlike pleasure of crea
ting! The deep furrows in his brow disappear
ed, his eyo shone with the double light of
youth and enthusinsm, - his head -noble and
erect, his disdainful glence . seeming to spurn
the earth, he is no longer man, but genius
and inspiration. The young painter felt
controled by the eagle eye and fascinating
glance' of the old man. lie dropped his
eyes, ashamed of his weakness, when the 1
other exclaimed,—
" 'Let us go to your room—let me counsel
you. Labour will not assume tire Place of
genius—you have overurged your pencil.—
Remember, it is the moment of inspiration
which yields the roaster-piece, and it is then 1
that the gifted can ascend beyond their corn
peers7 it should b . seized and caressed when
it arrives; but can never be compelled to at
tend upon your will.' -
Reader, that hint was the road to fame,
which was pursued by a young man 'who
lived to see his name glorious and famous
amongst the greatest of his day.
A Relict of the Revolution.
Of that venerable relict of nobler days,
and of a husband one of the most admirable
men that ever adorned and served any coun
try, We mean Mrs. EwAnyrn HAMILTON,
we find in one of the Northern journals the
following notice :
erhe widow of Alexander Hamilton has
reached the great age ninety-fiVe, and re-
tains, in an astonishing !degree, her facul
ties, and converses with much of that ease
and brilliancy which lent so peculiar a charm
to her younger days. And then the old la
dy, after passing the compliments and. con-
FOR FARIVLER AND MECHANIC.
gratulations oldie day, insists upon her vis
iters inking a merry glass from Gen. Wash
ington's punch-bowl, which, with other por
tions of his table-set, remains in her posses
sion.' •
'llirs• Hamilton completes, on the 16th of
August next, we believe, her ninety-sixth
.year. Slight of figure rather small in size,
and originally of what seemed a feeble or
ganization, she has yet passed to her pre
sent remarkable age with an almost total ex
emption from dis'ease, in spite of the severe
misfortunes which overcast her life in its
very prime. We allude to the bloody death
I first of her eldest son Philip, a young gen
tleman of great promise, and soon after, the
fall of her beloved lord, by what was noth
ing less than a deliberately executed assas
sination ; for Aaron Burr knew when, upon
the mere pretence of a quarrel, he summon
ed General Hamilton to The field, than he
would not decline to ineec ., 4t:'but would
never take the life of a follo4-being in pri
vate combat.
To return, however to his widow. Her
admirable virtues and sense, with the firm
yet gentle courage and cheerfulness Which
these bestowed, and a piety as simple as it.
was unshaken, have no doubt gond fur to up
hold by the forces of the mind the natural
weakness of her body. When last we saw
her less than a year since, she was still in
the habit of going on foot, and unattended,
to visit friends who lived half a mile from
her. Two years before we had seen her in
a very hot summer's day, arrive at her own
house on H. st., Washington, (the Menou
buildings,) from a morning's walk to visit
her old friend, Judge Cranch, on Capitol Hill,
to the east of the Capitol. The distance
which she had trod for this friendly purpose
is a good deal above three miles.
She never was .what the text which we
have taken calls her, brilliant ; for the wo
men who shine or blaze with that sort of
light, seldom have the genuine one of their
sex ; its gentleness, its pure warmth, its
sure womanly sense, which rather perceives
than reflects, and sees at a glance all it is
fit that a woman (nature's most delicate and
ingeniods work) should see. Though very
pretty, vivacious and winning, Mrs. Hamil
ton was never dazzling. Neither her man
ners, though high• bred, nor her conversation
though spirited and full of sense, were at'all
of the showy order ; she never said a silly,
she never said a brilliant, thing in her life.
There was no flash about her; she . shone
only with the soft brain which radiates from
what i n a woman not boys t.or maturer cox
combs lispingly adore, nor false sentiments,
lists dilate upon, but what the heart and the
understanding of all however shallow or cor
rupt, own,with not mere admiration but love
and awe—every thing that is most feminine
which is, we take it, a good,cleal better than
angelic ; (or the must confess that, so far as
can be judged from tlt most commend Story
descriptions, we look upon one woman as
worth full forty angels.
In short, she was just the wife for one of
a spirit so high, faculties so powerful, a phar
eater' so strenuous, and affections so fond as
those of Hamilton, and accordingly there
could be no tenderer union' than was theirs.
Not only did her loving, serene and cheer--
ful temper gladden whatever he could
-snatch for brief intervals of repose or enjoy
ment, but her perfect discretion made her
the confidence, and her admirable sense the
counsellor, of his affairs ; in many of the
weightiest of which he thought- it wine to
have such a woman's opinion. She' shar
ed, as far as she could, his labours; and,
when she could not, often sweetened them
by her presence. His papers, in particu
lar, she kept in order for him ; and it is to
her zealous care of them we owe the pres
ervation of that large and (in every sense of
either the merely curious .or the historical
ly.valuable)' precious body of the Hamilton .
innnusciipts,:which our government acquir
ed by purchase in 1840, and of which se
lected portions are now seeing the light in
a Congressional series of some nine or ten
volumes, edited by Mr. John Hamilton who
had previously given to the world a more lim
ited selection, with a biogrophy of his father.
Of the value of these papers to the secret
history of our public fakirs, during the space
of thirty years (1775 to 1804) which they
cover, no one is in a better condition to speak
than ourself; f6r we were entrusted on the
part of the family with a choice out of a still
Vaster body, of the fifty-seven folio yolumes
which, offer excluding whatever wits of no
interest, went into the hands of the govern-
CZ@
They give a prodigious idea of
ton's abilities, usefulness nd the confidence
and the influence which these commanded
for him, almost from the first moment when
a mere boy of nineteen he first drew as the
captain of a volunteer artillery company,
General Washlngton'i attention to the su
perior discipline of his cOrps and the skill
ful service of his guns. Novae ditt any
man possess a more remarkable power of
mastering at once whatever he set about.—
Introduced at the age of twelve into the count,i
ing-house of a consideiable shipping mer
chant in St. Croix, we find him at only four
teen entrusted, during his principal's Oar
sencer in this country, with his correspon.
tietiee nod the management of ail his °Vera.
NUMBER 81.
1 tions of buying:selling, shipping and all ilia%
Already ras is seen in his boyish letters to
Ito a young friend] he hasbegunto look. tot
the state of things rising up in this land of
ours, and to foresee in it a country and a ca
reer which the West Indies could never.
give him. At sixteen he is in, Columbia
College, N. Y. perfecting his boyish Littin:
and Greek. At seventeen ho is Itlreadk
writing for the public journals, in behalf of
the cause of the colonies, papers so striking
that they seize .upon the general attention,
and are attributed to the best writers. In'
his nineteenth year he has not only become
a strong popular orator, but has studied war
as an art, more especially the artillerist's
part of it ; and raising a company, (chiefly
at his own charge) has joined Washington's
army in the Jerseys, and made upon that
cautious commander so strong an impressbn)
that he transfers him to his personal staff as
chief aid-de-camp,, with the rank of lieuten
ant-colonel. Here it is well known that be
fore he was twenty he became one of Waal'-
, ington's most efficient officers : but, though
equally true, it has escaped attention that,
until that veteran of science, Steuben, took
service with us, it Was Hamilton who first
supplied our systems of tactics ; and Ham
ilton who besides drawing up many of Gen.
Washington's important papers, wrote the
admirable Instructions to John Laurens—
a master-piece of ability—under which he,
when Dr. Franklin had failed, brought
about the Armed Alliance of France. Ham
ilton was then twenty-one. In 1781, per
ceiving that the struggle had become on our
part one of finance, he turned financier, and
took charge, under Robert Morris, of a part
of that department, quickly displaying in it
that singular capacity Which led. Morris to
say on the formation of our present govern
ment, that there was but one men in the
country—Alexander Hamilton who might,
as Secretary of the Treasury, re-instate the
public credit. It is well known that the
present Constitution is really his plan, but
few are aware that its original proj,ect (stilt
in existence)was drawn up by him in 1784
when be was only twenty-seven years old.
We could tell mucli'morb ;' but space fails'
us.
BED-BUGS.
Speaking of bed-bugs, a friend of ours'
who put up at the lialamazoo House, tells
the following "strong one :"
"You see I went to bed putty all-fired
used up, after a hull day on the road before
the plank was laid, callcalatin' on a good
• snooze. Waal, jest as the ski yen began to
ease off, I kinder felt suthin' tryint to pull
.off nay shirt, and di gin their feet into the
small of my badk:lo kot'a good hold. Wrig
gled and twisted, and doubled and .pucker
ed—all no use—kept ageing it like bin.--
Bimeby got up and struck a light to look
around a spell—found out a peck of bed-
I bugs scattered around; and More droopin'
off my shirt and runnin' down my legs eve
ry minit. Swept oil a place on the floor,
shook out a quilt, lay down - arid lcivered up
in it for a nap. No use—mounted right on
to me, like a parsel of rats on a meal-tub---
dug a hole in the kiverlid, and crawled
through and give me fits for tryin' to hide.'
Got up again, went , down stairs and got the
slush bucket from the wagon. Brought
Up and 'blade a circle of tar on the floor-'
lay down on the floor on the inside, and felt
comfortable that time anyhow. Left tho.
light burnia,' and watched 'em. 'S'e:e!em
get together and have a camp-O;O4P' ahgui
it and then they went off in a . `ialthifObith
an old grey-headed he one, at tliii'loN'tigt4
up the wall, out on the ceiling‘tililh'ertk •
to the right spot, then* dropped right plural).
into my face. A fact by thunder.
"Well, I swept'em up again, and made
circle of tar on the ceiling too. Thought I
had'em foul that time; but I swan to rifan
they didn't pull straws out the b'ed, and
build a reg'lar bridge over it.!'
Seeing an incredulous out'
visage, he clinched thirstorY,LliuoF4,4'
"It's so. whether you beliayii,cell not;'
and some of walked &chi . '
Bed-bugs are curious critters andno mistake;
specially the Kalatimzep kind." Grand 'Ha l ,
er Eagle.
A Truth for Pundit'.
The Rev. Dr. lilff, a marl ofemineut prac
tical wisdom, as well as of tlie eminent pie
ty says, 4.1 um prepired from experience to
say that, in nine cases out of ten, the hoards
of accumulated money given to tho children
by whom they were foyer earned, and who
acquired no habits of industry, or thrift, or
laboriousness, prove, in point of fact; rather
curse than - a blessing. lam prepared to
s ubstantiate that a$ a mattcr of fact, not
merely from my own knowledge of the sub.
ject, but from the statement of men who
have been of watchful and observant habits,
cultivate not' only in Great Britian, but in
America. But it is a melancholy fact, that:
so little do parents know of the nuoaortnis
ery they are accumulating fot:tht;ii chil—
dren in heaping up these hoards kir them—
so little dio . they think how big with misery
these hoards are.? Let parents think of hl
solemn malt, And' dO good with their wealth
instead of troultofing it up to their 13411drem
8