n the Borough of Allentown,
.linty; Pa., every. Wednesday-, by
!MINES & DIEFENDERFER,
er 'annum, payable in adiance, and
.t paid until the end of the year.—
iseontintied until all arrenrages are
At 3
02 00
No pip
paid.
117"0 • toe in Hamilton street, two doors west
of the berman Reformed Church, directly onto
site Moser's Drug Store.
87Letters on business must be POST min,
otherwise they will not be attended to.
JOB PRINTING.
Haying recently added a large assortment of
fashionable and most modern styles of type, we
liro prepared to execute, at short notice, all
kinds of Book. Job, and Fancy Printing.
Isortrti.
THE INIJLIN SUMMER
Strange season. evanescent
As childhood's sunny thought—
Bow sad and vet how pleasant
Are the feelhrs.thon host brought ;
The sky is bright above us,
• The nir is bland as June.
And the brook to joy would move us
By its happy little tune.
But we miss the merry singing,
• Of the birds among the trees.
And the flowers that late were flinging
Their odors on the brecze.
Amirthe cattle that were feeding
, Upon the mountain side,
And the flocks their young ones leading
Where the rivulets do glide.
Now, we only hear the rustle
Of the dry leaves as we tread, ,
Or the timid squirrel startle
From the branches overhead,
Or the sportsman's gun resounding
Among the naked bills.
Or his greyhound's fleet foot bounding
Across the rocks and rills.
We.feel the sun of summer,
But its verdure do not see.
"While there comes a whispered murmur
From every leafless tree,
intbli checks the voice of gladness
That else might ring again,
And brings a drowsy sadness
To fasten on the brain.
Yes 'tis the Indian summer;
, For treacherous are its beams ;
And as fading as the glimmer
Of happiness and dreams,
The very mists of morning,
Though heralding fair days,
Are shadowy forms of warning,,
Which vanish while we gaze.
Thus summer's ghost keeps beckoning
Our willing feet to roam,
'hile'We forget 'the reckoning,
Of winter days to come :
And yet so sadly pleasant
Is all we feel or see,
That in the dreamy present
Forever Would we be.
phut! . 110
aappened to never knew
Ernest to be behind the time crc this—'
She was intenitipt«l in her sulilopuy by the
sudden opcidng of the' door of the drawing
room, when a man of middle age, with a lofty
carriage and dignified deportment, entered the
apartment. At the first glance, one could not
have failed to have noticed that there was a
marked resemblance in features between the
new-comer and the young girl we have so
Lily described—the color of the . eyes was the
same, and there was something about the form
ation of the month and chin which at once be-
The old fellow taken somewhat aback bv,this
spoke that a relationship of sonic kind existed
turn of affairs, corrected the mistake by saying: between them.
I didn't mean to sing dish hymn,
' Well, Ellie,' said the gentleman, in a good-
Immored tone, drawing up a chair, and taking
I only meant mine eyes ish dim.
The clerk still thinking it a combination of
a seat beside her, you seem to be in a medita
the couplet, finished in the preceding strain. tire mood, this veiling. May I inquire upon
Tho old man at this, waxed wroth, and ex- what your thoughts arc wandering ? Nay, I
needn't ask •• ' tell-tale blush is sufficient !
claimed at the top of his voice :
I dink the dcbil's in you all, [ km ow r) what Was the nature of your re.
Dat rash no hymn to sing at all. ! Captain Edgar, Captain Edgar, you
[show us a lady's bonnet, and we will . oavc much to answer fur ! Ila !he ! he!'
you what sort of a woman she is. If it is full I Indeed, father, I was not thinking of the
ID - _Y young clerical gentleman relates the
following anecdote of one of his Dutch brethren.
The old fellow was about commencing his spir
itual exercises one evening, when to his being n
little near sighted was added the dim light of a
country church. Af.er cleat ing his throat and
giving out the hymn, prefacing it with the apol
ogy—
`'The light ish bad, mine eyes ish
I scarce can see to read dish hymn.
The clerk supposing it was the first stanza of
the hymn, struck up to the tune of common me
tre.
of ribbons, cupids, bows, etc., she is as full of
love and poetry, as a country inn of politicians
and loafers, if it is decked with simple, plain
colors, and a couple of mjcst knots, she is a
perfect jewel, sweet, sunny, mild, but as aftec-
tionate as a freshly nursed kitten. If stuck all
over with a paradise of clover, three story os
trich feathers, wax hollyhocks, and juniper ber
ries, put it square down that she will always
remain single, and will never see her fortieth
birth day. Bonnets are a true index of women.
[l:7An Albany lady (a lady of experience
contends that a kiss on the forehead denotes rev
erenco for the intellect ; a kiss on the cheek
that the donor is impressed. with the beauty of
the kissed one ; bUt that a kiss imprinted on the
lips shows love.
El:7Don't always look for mere beauty in a
woman. Those who think a girl is prefection
just because she has cherry lips, hazel eyes, and
a shower of curls, knows no more abobt female
calico than a boiled lobster does• of moral phi
losophy and the ten commandments.
I:l7Who'n your wife begins to scold let her
have it out. Put your feet up closily over the
fire place, 101 l back in your chair, light one of
your best cigars, and let the storm rage on.--
Bay nothing, do nothing, know nothing. •
07• The New York Dutchtilan says that it.is
•so dry up' in lowa,' that the, people have to
sprinkle the rivers to keep the boats from kick
ing up a dust.
II:7"A sawyer, after sawing with a very dull
saw, cxefahned, Of all the saws I ever saw
saw, I never saw a saw saw as that saw saws.'
butlL7'Where twenty persons have stomachs,
t one has brains ;
° hence brewers grow rich,
while printers remain poor.
13:7'Nothing like pro water for honest men's
WO. • , : , •
910
Auer') to Iota! nub (General llcturi, ,I.4,grirulturr, atiroJion, Rionlitti, 51nummint, 311arlafg,
VOLUAIE IX.
51.—(_cOrilliitg Tait.
ERNEST DEFOREST,
Olt VIE
REWARDS OF HEROISM.
TALE OF TILL GREAT FIRE IN NEW TOIIN
Don't you bear the bell, boys ?
Turn out ! turn out•!
Its booming peal is on the nir,
While all around is liquid alarJ.
Turn out! turn out l—llo.NEYwm
ITwas on the evening of a lovely day in the
month of November, 1833. and everything
was quiet in the usually noisy streets of Gotham.
It was that particular season of the year de
nominated "Indian Summer ;" a season un
known to all climes except our own, when a
sort of dreamy stillness settles down upon every
object ; a season
when comes the calm, still day,
As still such days will come,
To cull the squirrel and the bee
From out their winter home;
When the sound of dropping nuts is heard
Though all the trees are still,
And twinkle in the smoky light
The waters of the
At the window of a large and splendidly fur
nished mansion in the lower part of the city,
sat a most lovely girl looking forth upon the
street, and intently scanning the appearance of
such persons as passed along the resounding
pavements. She was not more than seventeen
years of age, with a slight and sylph-like figure,
a pair of melting blue eyes, that looked as if
they hail borrowed their hue from the bright
depths of an August sky, while her hair, of a
golden hue, fell in showering ringlets over her
sloping, snowy shoulders. She was alone at
the time we have introduced her to our readers,
and had sat there by that open window for
some'moments, and the joyous smile that she
had at first worn had given place to a look of
sadness as she gazed with a longing eye down
the fast darkening stijoet.
• Why, what cotaa have detained Min so
long ?' at length she muttered ; something
must have h to• him. I
captain at all. My thoughts were occupied
with a pleasanter subject.'
How so, Effie ? I can't see how they could
have been more profitably employed than in
thinking of your future husband.'
• Fathcr,•l have told you, repeatedly, that I
did not wish to encourage the attentions of that
man. He is personally disagreeable to me, and
I wish that sonic means could be devised to pre,
vent his coming here.'
Effie, you arc a stubborn, disobedient gttl
Captain Edgar is my denrest friend,—for years
he has been sailing one of my largest ships, and
I have always found him a man of honor. lie
has proposed to me for your hand, and although
I am known to the world as the rich merchant,
Albert Loring, still I am not disposed to carry
my exclusiveness too far. Captain . Edgar be
longs to a good family,,Effle, and is a rising'
man. What objections can you possibly have
to him 1'
4 Simply because
. he is old enough to be my
father. I'M sure he's quite as old as you are,
and he is vain, pompous, and conceited. More
than all this, he is tyrannical to the poor sailors
under his command, and such a Man can never
make a good husband. I have it from the best
authority, that he treats his crew more as if
they were,brutes than men, and that he is ex
ceedingly cruel upon all occasions.'
' The best authority,' repeated Mr. Loring,
with a sneer ; ' yes, I know who that best au
thority is ! You have been told all this non
sense by that youngster, Ernest DeForest, who
apprenticed himself to Captain Edgar three
years ago. The Captain has been obliged to be
a little taut with the lad, for he has a liTeat no
tion ofshowing insubordination uponcaaions,
And ho has availed himself of the tit les when
rho4a ! 3 been sent hero with messages fr Edgar,
t
(QOl5OOllll wind. against him.' . ii..._.
JJJLUEII _ _
UDlallal---11111'12ill TELPIIII3)
ALLENTOWN, PA., NOVEMBER 8, 1861.
'No, father, indeed.:you are mistaken. I'm
quite sure that he newer told me anything except
the truth.'
.0"
Then you admit that he lies told you some
thing about Captain Edgar ?'
Effie turned scarlet. Unwittingly she ‘ had
betrayed herself, and in spite of all her efforts
she trembled, as the keen eye of her parent was
bent upon her.
0, you needn't answer without you like.
That tell-tale blush is sufficient. lam satis
fied that the ungrateful villain, whom I took on
board that ship . out of charity, has blackened
the character of her commander to one with
whom especially lie wished testand well.'
Charity, father ?'
Yes, charity, Effie ! Did I not take pity
upon ,him when he came whimpering to my
counting-room one bitter December day and ask
to be employed in my office ? I had no place
for him then, but I directed Captain Edgar, to
take - him on board as an apprentice, so that he
might become a thorough sailor, and be enabled
to obtain an honest livelihood. Do you not call
that charity ? If not, what is it ?'
I'm sure, father, that you do not know as
much as I do about the matter, or you woul.
not say What you do.'
I think I see,' replied Mr. Loring, bend
ing a stern glance upon 'his daughter, ' you are
becoming far too partial to that beggarly
boy. It never occurred to me before. I must
put a stop to it.' Remember that Ernest Defor
est is not to 'set his foot inside this house again.
If he does, unpleasant consequence's may result
from it.'
Just at this moment the door bell rung, and
Mr. Loring rose and proceeded to his study,
saying as he left the room, - that he expected a
visitor. Effie continued to gaze in an abstract
ed manner down the street. Presently she saw
the form of a man coming towards the house,
and as he drew nearer, her heart beat. quick, and
the rich blood mantled in her cheek, for she
well knew that it was one that she desired to
sec. In a moment the figure stopped before
the house. A white handkerchief was waved
from the parlor window, when the man at once
stepped down to the basement door, and was
quickly admitted by one of the servants, who
seemed disposed to forward the views of Ellie,.
to judge by the stealthy manner in which she
closed the door behind the new corner.
Ile was a youth apparently about twenty-two
years of age, with a fresh and ruddy complex
ion, a clear blue eye, regular features, a fine set
of teeth, and a foyfi'almost faultless. lie was
dressed in a ~blue jacket and trousers, with
checked shirt, coarse, it is true, but scrupu
lously clean, while his dark crisp locks just
showed beneath the rim of a light cloth cap set
jauntly on one side of his finely formed head.
Where's Miss Effie ?' inquired he, of the
servant who had admitted him`. as he seated
himself in one of the kitchen chairs.
She's ❑p stairs, and «•ill bo down in a
noment. But you must look out—old M
Loring is in his study above, engaged 'with a
a visitor, but should he mistrust that you were
hero, it would not take him long to find his way
down to this basement, I can tell you
No, I suppose not.' •
You must be cautious and talk low. But I
hear Miss Effie coming, so I suppose you. can
get along without Ate; ' saying which, the ser
vant took her departure. A moment after and
Effie entered the room.
0, Ernest, lam so glad you've come. What
has detained you so long ? I have been look
ing from the parlor windows for nn hour, ex
pecting you every moment. And such a scene
as I have had with father ! He says that you
must never set your foot beneath his roof again,
or it will be woe for you, and what do you
think, he is determined that I shall consent to
wed that odious Ciiptain Edgar.'
- 4 The abominable villain ! lle is all that is
base and vile, Effie ! a brutal coward, and a
blackguard ! A vain, conceited tyrant, who de
lights in tormenting his fllow•men.'
4 I know all that, as if by instinct. But,
dearest, what aro wo to do ?'
You must steadily refuse to consent to the
marriage, on the plea that you are yet to young
to think of such a thing. By this method you
will at least gain time. Something may turn
up in the meantime to our advantage. I thought
when I,managed to get into your father's em
ployment, although in a menial capacity, that I
should have been enabled to have won his favor,
but I have been most bitterly disappointed. I
do not know but what it would have been better
to have gone boldly to him at onetr, proclaimed
who I was, informed him of the deep anddcath-
less love,l bear you, and asked for your hand.'
'O, no, no, it never would have done ! You
do not know as well as I the intense hatred that
ho bears for alll-yoUr race, or you would not say
so. Depend upon it, dear Erneat, my plan was
the best. By getting into his employ in a hum
ble capacity, we havete'en enabled to Meet,
which we never could have effected by other
means. An assumed name has in this case been
beneficial.!'
Wouldn't he raso.if he knew who I actually
was 1'
' Hush ! don't" , k above your breath,
Ernest. Were he to find you here, .1 do not
know but he would slay you.'
Well, dear Effie, I will make my stay short.
Don't forget what I have told you. Steadily
refuse to wed' Edgar, and trust to time. eir
curustances May occur to alter the prospect of
things.'
' Good•night, dearest !'
' Good-night !'
Effie retired to her chaMber, to dream of hap
piness and flowery fields that stretch away into
the bright YiStaS of the futuni.
" 0, morning life ! 0, morning love !
0, lightsome days, and long,
When honeyed hopes around the hear
Like summer blossoms sprung !"
In the meantime 1 . 1..‘ Loring. the weal
Pearl street merchant, having left the parlor
where he had been conversing with Effie, repair
ed to his study and throwing himself into a
cushioned armchair, in a moment thedoor open
ed and a visitor was announced.
' Ah, Edgar ! how are you ? Take a seat ?
ak h,
II e a cigar, will you ?'
T new collier vas a man about fifty, with a
line se of
of teeth, a bronzed complexion, good
figure, though rather too brawny, and jet black
hair slightly sprinkled with gray. Ile threw
himself carelessly into an arm-chair similar to
that occupied by Mr. Loring, took the cigar
proffered him by that gentleman, lighted it at a
lamp standing upon a table, and said :
' Well, Mr. Loring, what's the news ?'
' Not . much, Edgar. I've had a talk with
Effie this evening about that little proposal you
made to me, and she is as obstinate as a mule
' What can be the matter ?'
' I think I know."
' What is it ?'
You know that boy that was apprenticed to
to you on board the Cavendish ?'
-Ay, right well, and a line lboking fellow he
is, too.:
' ! almost too fine for your interest, I
should think !'
IVliat the deuce do you mean, Mr. Loring ?'
Haven't you often .sent him with mtssages
to my house ?'
' Yes ; but what of ?'
Edgar, you seem positively stupid, tc-night !
You do, upon my soul ! Did it never occur to
you that that good looking feilm;, as you style
him, when he came to this plaice with messages,
might chance to become acquainted with Etlie ?'
' Whew ! now I understand you ! By the
lord Harry, Mr. Loring ; but I'll give that fel
low fits !'
What can be done ?'
' Stop a little—let me think. ram to sail on
the twenty-fifth of next month. Of course he
will go with me. He will not be likely to come
up missing, some dark, stormy night during
these winter passages, will he ?'
' Captain Edgar, I'm shocked ! Surely, you
do not meditate a (rime."
' Mr. Loring, that DeForest, must be got rid
of by some means !'
' I wish we could get rid of him, if it could
be done Without. committing a crime,' replied
the merchant, in a musing tone.
Leave it nil to me, sir ! I know the ropes !
But he musn't be left at large until the time of
my departure. Ile might persuade Ellie to
elope with him.'
• Sure enough—but what can you do to pre
vent it ?'
' Don't I tell you I know the ropes ? Leave
everything to me sir. I have an empty tank in
the lower hold of the Cavendish. To-morrow
morning I'll send him into that tank to clean it
out, and when once he Is in the're, I will not be
likely to vitt on the cover and keep him their
will I ?'
' Tmteed ?'
Ay, indeed. And when once there, way
down in•the hold, he may sing out as loud as he
pleases—nobody will be likely •to hear him.'
Captain Edgar, you have a great inventive
genius.'.
0, passable. But I must be going, I have
two more calls to make before I repair on board.
Good night to yon, Mr. Loring.'
' Good night, sir.'
The Cavendish, one of the line of London
ckets, was a fine ship of about six hundred
tons, a large vessel in those days, before the
rage for mammoth clippers Caine into fashion._
She was lying at the foot of Pine street, taking
in her cargo, and getting ready to sail on. the
twenty-fifth of the ensuing month, her regular
day. Captain Edgar had risen and taken his
breakfast, and had gone down into the hold to
see how the men were getting on in stowing the
cargo. They had not as yet commenced oper
ations for the day, • and the hold was deserted
save by young DeForest who had come down.
"at the command of the captain.
' Ernest,' said Edgar in a kind tone, ' have
you been in that large tank in the fore hold,
lately ?' „ •
' 110,,Bir,.iletstuee the last voysge.!.
I think it must want cleaning out. I will
go down with you, and I want you to crawl in
and let me know whether you think it is,clean
enough to pump water in. I expect a great
number of passengers this voyage, and it may
be as well to till it.'
Ay, ay, sir.'
Unsuspick,ty, of guile on the part of the cap
tain, young DeForest repaired to thehold, and at
once crept into the huge tank which was built
of-wOutl and calculated to hold about live thou
sand gallons of water. But no sooner had he
reached the bottom than Captain Edgar clapped
on the cover and bolted it down, thereby render
ing his victim a close prisoner. lle had taken
tl.e precaution to put some bread and water in
the tank the night before, and as the top of the
cell was perforated with a number of auger
holes, he had no fear of his suff;,cating. It was
a most cowardly and brutal trick, and well
worthy the man who performed it.
Ira ! ha ! ha !' laughed the monster as he re
paired to the cabin to obtain a dram, ' that was
well done, any how. I'll keep him there safe
until the ship is at sea, and then let him out.
Perhaps I may find a way to do for him before
the ship makes the light of the Eddystone
At any rate try it—he must not stand in my
way.'
Day after day passed away, sadly and weari
ly enough to Effie Loring; fur she lnia not seen
Deforest. from some cause or other which
the reader will have no difficulty in determining,
he came not near her, and she was at a loss to
account for his absence. In the meantime Cap
tain Edgar redoubled his attentions, although he
could not have Riled to perceive that his visits
were most unwelcome to. the maiden, and that
she fairly loathed his presence. Nevertheless,
as his suit was backed up by the father, Edgar
continued to persecute her with his attentions;
till at length the - annoyance became so great,
that added to her anxiety on account of Ernest,
she became seriously ill, and was taken to her
room in an upper story of the mansion, where
she was put under the charge of a skilful medi
cal practitioner. To this gentleman Effie Im
parted the secret cause of her illness, and he
had the humanity to give orders that no one
save the nurse and himself should be admitted
to her sick 'chamber. By this means she got
rid of the importunities of Captain Edgar, but
her anxiety on account of Ernest, kept her in a
weak and nervous state, which threatened to
throw her into a brain fever.
In the meantime young DeForest was con
fined in the empty water tank. lie had no
difficulty in at once divining the cause of his in
carceration, but after * trying the strength of his
lungs, a few times, and finding that it brought
hint no succor, he settled down with it sort of
dogged resolution to await the result of the ad
venture, and be revenged at some future time,
should an opportunity offer. The niece fact of
his finding a quantity of bread and water in the
tank, convinced him that Edgar did not intend
to starve him at any rate, so he resolved to bide
his time with patience.
Days and weeks rolled away. It was a dad;
and stormy night on the 17th of December, and
the snow Hakes were driven through the keen
frosty air, spreading a mantle ofpurity over the
house tops, and lying in drilled heaps along t h e
deserted streets.
Boom ! boom ! boom ! comes the sound of the
greart fire-bell of the. City Hall upon the wings
of the stormy eight.• All is confusion and. wild
dismay ! Thousands rush from their bids and
out into the tempest drenched streets. A red
light, like the lurid glare of a distant volcano
rises upon the bosom of th , c ., inky sky ! It
spreads in every direction, for the keen frost •
air congeals the water in the hose of the eng,ines,
and the hardy firemen stand aghast with fold
arms, awaiting further 'orders ! The fit
gale drives the devouring flames from iLa,l4
to warehouse, from dwelling to dwelling—it, 1
an ocean of flame! At length the mansion o
Mr. Loring is surrounded by the raging element,
and quickly wrapped in flames that came burst
ing from every window. Tremendous elluris
were made by the firemen to save the building,
but they were all in vain. The mansion was
devoured! Mr. Loring himself, with his coat
olf, was toiling to secure his. books and some
portion of his property, and so busy was he,
and so worldlyAninded, that he had actually for
gotten his sick daughter in the upper story !
A wild shriek however soon calledhis attention
to her situation, and he ran into the street.—
/
His house was now liter Ily enveloped in smoke
and flame, but at one f. the wlndows of the
flfth , s(ory, lie spied 11* • daughter &antic with
terror, standing as it eemed to him in the very
midst of the flames. A long lad er was pro
cured, and placed against the trebling walls
of the burning mansion, but of al bat immense
crowd, not ono could be procu d who had the
hardihood to go up and assist her Idown. The
. .
risk appeared too gr t ! .
~.
• rive thousand do ars to any man who will
go up and help my ck daughter down that lad
der !' cried the dis ruled father: But no ono
. . . .
moved. The risk appeared too terrible.
Captain Edgar you arc a sailor•,' cried the
NUMBER 6.
'lt was a most perilous fent, but with unex.
ampled daring the youth, whom the reader will
have no difficulty in imagining was Ernest De-
Forest, who, on hearing the outcry of
. flre, had
managed to burst off the lid of the tank and ef
fect his escape,—ran up higher—until amid the
most agonized suspense, he reached the window
where Effie was standing wild with terror,
seized her in his arms,and bore her to the ground
.in safety, though his clothes were 'nearly all
burned from his back, and his limbs in spots
scorched as black as a piece of charcoal. Tho
next moment the walls of the mansion fell in
with a horrid crash, leaving nothing but a mass
of smoking ruins. •
At a little distance removed from the scene of
the conflagration, young DeForest was holding
in his arms the person of Effie Loring. The
father was standing by, and - after gazing for a
few moments iu silence upon the pair, ho
said :
Young man, you have done bravely, and
richly deserve the prize you have won. Take
her—she is yours. Tlie twenty thousand d
lars too shall be paid you. As for you, Capt.
Edgar, let me never behold your face again !'
I want none of your money, sir. I have
amply sufficient for all my wants,' firmly replied
Ernest t ' but your daughter I think I have fair
ly won !'
You have, indeed. But why do you say
that you want no money? Are you not a poor
sailor boy ?'
Nut I indeed ! lam the son of George El
lery, the man von so bitterly hate !'
Prodigious ! Well , I shunt, revoke my
plighted word ; Effie is yours.'
The Process of Coining Gold.
A Mint Of the United States has been comple
ted in San Francisco, and is probably at this
time in active operation, coining daily vast tree
sires of •golden ore. It was intended that it
should be prepared to coin thirty millions of dol
lars annually. The following description of the
system which is about to be established there,.
will afford a good general idea of the ordinary
process of coining gold.
The metal, after being received iie deposit
room, is carefully weighed, and a receipt given.
Each deposit is incited separately in the melting
room, and moulded into bars. These bars next
pass through the hands of the assayer, who with
a chisel chips a small fragment from, each one.
The chip is then rolled into a thin ribbon, and
tiled down until it weighs exactly ten grains.—
It is then melted into a little cup made of cal—
cined bone ashes, and all the base metals, cop•
per, tin, &c., aro absorbed by the porous mate
rial of the cup, or carried off by oxydation.—
The gold is then boiled in•nitric acid, which dis
solves the silver which it contains, and leaves
.the gold pure. It is then weighed and the
amount which it has lost gives the exact pro
portion cif impurity in the original bar, and a
o tificate of the amount of coin due the deposi- •
tor is made out accordingly. After being as
sayed, the bars are melted with a certain pro
portion of silver, and being poured into a dilu
tion of ni tric'n cid and water assume a grauula
ted form. In this state the gold is thoroughly
boiled in nitric acid, and rendered perfectly free
from silver or any other baser metals Which may
happen to cling to it. It is next melted with
one-ninth
.its weight in copper, and, thus al
loyed, it runs into bars, and delivered to the•
coiner for coinage. The bars aro rolled out in a
rollingmill until nearly as thin as the coin which!
is made from them. By a process of annealing.
they ate rendered sufficiently ductile to be
drawn through a longitudinal orifice in a piece •
' of steel, thus reducing the whole to a regular
u•idth and thickness. keutting machine next.
punches small round pieces from the bar about
the size of the coin. These pieces aro weighetti
separately .by the " adjusters," and if too heavy
they are filed down—if to light remelted. • The.
pi ceeltich have been adjusted are run through(
a milling machine, which compresses them. to•
the proper diameter and raises the edge. Two•
hundred and fifty aro m:lled in a minute by the
machine. They are again softened by the pro. ,
cess of annealing, and after a thorough cleaning..
are placed in a tube connecting with the stamp—
ing instrument and are taken thence one at a
time by the machinery, and stamped between' .
the dints. They are now finished, and, being:
putlito a box, and delivered to the Treasurer
for circulation. The machinery, of Course, for
all these processes, must be one of the nicest
kind. The weight scales aleae,in the deposit
room of the California Mint, cost ev,ooo.
MIMS
Cr.7'Among the many ingenious ancliabor,•
saving machines on exhibition at New
State Fair, is one invented by p,gentlematithbau
Connecticut, who says that when it is: wenn&
up and set in motion; it will,chass:abog over at
ten acre lot, catch, yoke, andming him, or, by
a slight change of gearing, it tvill: , chop him into,
sausages, work his bristles into shoe brushes,.
and manufacture his tail into corkscrews,
in the twinkling of a .bod post.
(1" - Love may be defined as a little sighing, au
ttle crying, a little.dYing o and a deal of. lying; .
agonized Loring to his intended son-in-law, who
was standing by his side. Surely you might
risk something for your promised bride ?'
I dare not do it, Mr. Loring. It is morn
than my life is worth to 'ascend the ladder !
Look, the walls are almost ready to full !'
' I sect, I see it, sir ; but you arc not the
man I took you to, be.' Ilien after a moment's
pause, Mr. Loring called out in a loud tcnc, ' any
man among this crowd who will go up that lad
der and rescue my sick daughter, may elaimher
hand in marriage, and I will give Win twenty
thousand dollars besides. I care not if ha be
the lowest street scavenger ! My word is
pledged in the presence of all here present !'
Mr. Loring, I accept the first part of that
ofll2r,' said a voice among tho dense mass of
people; and in an instant a young man in the
garb of a sailor rushed up the ladder in the very
midst of the flames !